Riding For A Cure

For twenty years I have ridden the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Scenic Shore 150.  A charity bike ride (not a race) to raise funds for patient support and blood cancer disorder research.

Twenty years-ago the first ride had 130 riders and $30,000 was raised.

The goal now has grown to 1000 riders and $1,000,000.

Years ago The First Mate and I formed a team for organized bike rides - Team Swill.  Our motto is:  Where there is a swill there is a sway.  We're the original Swill Brothers.  We even formed our own brewery - The Swill Brothers Brewery.  We made hooch in the basement and that home brew actually garnered us three Wisconsin State Fair ribbons.  The brewery has been on hiatus but the bike team persists.  Team Swill fielded 11 good friends for the 20th anniversary ride last weekend. 

Anyway, I got this cool award because I'm the last man standing.

The only rider to participate in all 20 rides.

click on images to enlarge

Stovewood Construction

My neighbors John and JoAnn operate the County H Tree Farm.  As part of the Christmas tree operation they built a beautiful gift shop in the stovewood style of construction. 

Stovewood construction is characterized by uniformly-cut lengths of wood stacked in a bed of lime mortar perpendicular to the leading edge of the wall.  It looks like stacked wood for  your wood stove.  Thus the name. 

Anyway, if you visit John and JoAnn before Christmas you can cut your own tree and warm yourself in the gift shop alongside the antique pot belly stove.  It's all very cool.

I was out riding my bicycle the weekend before last and came across a barn located only feet from the edge of the road.  Some of the cedar shakes had fallen-away revealing the original stovewood construction.

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Imagine a barn constructed of these cedar logs.

No wonder it's still standing.

Learn more about stovewood construction here.

Mennonite Has a Birthday

Everyone had a perfectly fine weekend at The Platz.

There was food, beer, wine, conversation, sleep, food, bicycling, more food, beer, wine, hot showers (very nice), more beer AND wine, even more food followed by really, really good sleep.  Then more food.

To top it all off Mennonite had a belated birthday celebration.  

The Frau - coordinating with Mennonite's Frau - and an entire cadre of bicyclists that were eager to participate in a friendly prank. On the signal of a whistle the entire crowd serenaded the Pennsylvania farm boy with an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday. 

Complete with black handkerchiefs....

If Only the Dead Could Talk

More of the virtual cemetery tour.

A couple more veterans too.

The fella on the left has a modern flush marker. Probably a replacement of an earlier one.

He died close to the end of the conflict. As I snapped this picture I was wondering if he died in the war. Or did he return from the war and perish of natural causes?

It was easy to locate George in the US Census database. The 1910 census has him living with his mother Carrie and father Andrew in Gibraltar.

Finding anything about his service in the army was more difficult. No draft or enlistment records that I could locate.

Then - bingo!

Under Wisconsin's casualty lists - there he was:
George Daniel Anderson, Fish Creek, WI.

Listed halfway down the center column.

Dead.

Just before the war ended in November.









Here's a traditional stone instead of a VA-issue marker.

At thirty-four years of age, mention of military and a date of September 16, 1918 the clues suggest WWI.

A search of the US Census led me to a John E. Emery with a July 1884 date of birth in Wisconsin - but living in Nebraska in 1900.




A further search of World War I draft registration cards leads to a John J. Emery from Taycheedah.

That's it to the left. But the date of birth is wrong!

At this point the trail becomes a dead end. I am stumped.

Nothing to shed any light on how this Emery guy ended-up buried in a cemetery outside of Baileys Harbor.

Did he die in the war?

Company E, 128 Infantry is Wisconsin National Guard.

Maybe someone can shed more light on this story?

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If Only the Dead Could Talk

Captain J.A. Wilson.

Click on image to enlarge

Our virtual bicycle tour takes us to his final resting place. And that of his wife - Margaret - who lived considerably longer than her seafaring spouse.

I've dug-up the complete story on this.

It is fascinating.

Wilson plied the Great lakes for almost fifty years under the employ of the Goodrich Navigation Company of Chicago.

Born of immigrants - his formal education ended in Cleveland, Ohio at the age of fourteen. It was then he began his sailing career. He sailed saltwater seas to places as far as England and New Orleans returning to the Great Lakes to spend forty-six years in service with the Goodrich Line.

Margaret Collins was born of Irish immigrants - her parents settled near Baileys Harbor in the early 1840s to tame a parcel of government land. Margaret was educated in Baileys harbor - walking from the farm two and a half miles through the woods and an Indian village to school.

There were no roads in those days.

The Captain and Margaret married on December 8, 1887. Four children followed - John, Alice, Georgia and Arthur.

Following his death - Margaret operated a farm and what has been described as a fine hotel building at Kangaroo Lake. She was a successful forerunner in the summer resort business on the peninsula.

Ships and resorts.

A Captain and a Hotelier.

Even today - some things never change.

If Only the Dead Could Talk

Continuing with the virtual cemetery tour by bicycle I present you with a pair of graves marking the resting place of Civil War veterans.

As appears to be the case with most grave markers of this era no dates are provided.

However a web search is quite revealing.


Samuel Churches enlisted in the Army of the Potomac in September of 1861. In September of 1863 he was transferred to the National Reserve Corps due to a hernia. He was discharged in October of 1864 with the rank of Private.

Near as I can tell he was born in England in 1839 and immigrated to the states in 1851.

He married Ada L. - nineteen years his junior - on May 27, 1883.

He was still living at the ripe old age of 81 when the national census was taken in 1920.







John Brown enlisted in August of 1864 and was discharged in June of 1865 due to a hernia.

What's with the hernias?

John's discharge records indicate his rank as a Private. His grave marker says Corporal.

What could be the cause of the discrepancy?

John Brown was born in Connecticut in 1846.

Rest in peace fellas. It has been my pleasure to become acquainted with you.

Click on images to enlarge

If Only The Dead Could Talk

I was out riding my bike looking for cool cemeteries.

I know that sounds creepy but there is much to be learned by respectfully inspecting the resting places of the dead.

Here's a tombstone I stumbled-across. A massive slab of Door County dolostone marking the resting place of one of the peninsula's former sheriffs.

Learn about the interesting story of Hollis “Baldy” Bridenhagen's successor here.

Click on image to enlarge

If Only The Dead Could Talk

Out riding my bike last weekend with some friends and just had to check-out a simple country cemetery.

There were cattle peacefully grazing in an adjacent field.

The graves of children haunt me and I always wonder what the story is behind the life snuffed-out at such a young age.

And then there are the portraits of the dead.

Like this handsome young man...

Church?

Nope.

It’s a chapel.

And above the door it says - Saint-Michel prie pour nous.

Large numbers of Belgian immigrants arrived in America starting a century and a half ago.

And one of the traditions they brought with them was the simple roadside chapel.

Prayer chapels are very common in Belgium. Here they were built along roadsides for people to pray – often for a family member suffering from an illness.

Many of these still exist throughout Kewaunee, Brown and Door counties.

It’s unlocked and open for business if you want to talk with the Big Guy.

Sticking It To The Man

I’ve been trying-out a new way to walk the dog. I ride – she walks.

You’d think that riding a mountain bike would be easy. No so much though. You see the grass is just high enough to offer steady resistance that never allows you to conveniently shift out of that granny gear. It’s actually a pretty good workout.

For me and the dog.

Today was a shitty day – on a couple of different levels.

First-off, Girlfriend was naughty and ran-off into the woods and wouldn’t immediately return when summoned.

What was the attraction?

Some really slimy green critter shit that she just had to roll in. I haven’t a clue who left the deposit but the dog finally returned covered in the stuff.

Blech.

See this beer?

This is a refreshing bottle of Road Dog Porter from Flying Dog Brewery.

So what. Big deal.

The deal is if you read the label you might note that it has an awesome quote from Hunter S. Thompson.

Good people drink good beer.

Not too long before he died I had an opportunity to see the Gonzo Journalist at the Riverside Theater in Milwaukee. It was both surreal and worth it. But that would be another story.

Anyway - the Flying Dog label goes on to explain that this is - Good Beer - No Shit.

That sure is plain spoken. Can you really print that on a beer label?

I guess you can.

If you read the label further it goes on to say the following-

We spent four long years in court fighting for our first amendment right to display the phrase "Good beer, No shit" on every bottle of Road Dog. In honor of sticking it to the man...

This shit is some dark, rich and malty shit. The best shit you'll ever try and that's no bullshit.

6% ALC/VOL

Well said!

Biking the Stein

Out riding-about the countryside again.

The peninsula is probably the most perfect place to ride a bike.

Good scenery.

Plenty of small towns to stop for a bite to eat or a refreshing beverage.

Lots of cool-old cemeteries to browse.

If you stay off the beaten path there’s not a lot of traffic to contend with.

And you cannot get lost.

If you go too far west you hit the water. Same for north and east.

Head south and you might get lost. Then again – you might just be lucky enough to hit New Franken.

New Franken has a bar called the New Franken Stein.

I’m not making this-up.

Cold tap beers and some of the best charbroiled burgers you’ll find in these parts.

Burgers are a buck on Wednesdays.

Thursdays is nickel chicken wings.

If you visit - tell them Swamp sent you.

Back Yard Junk

Some people are natural pack rats.

They dump stuff in their yard and it seems they promptly forget about it.

I wonder sometimes if anything is ever going to happen to this beached and rusting boat. It has resided here for about two decades. Minimum.







Or these cool, old automobiles?

Rat's Chapel

There is this signage on one of my often-ridden bike routes.

I sure would like to know who this Rat person is and what his Chapel looks like.

It isn’t listed with all of the usual places of worship…

Chewy Capitalist Charity

I first met these three young entrepreneurs a year ago while riding my bike.

They were at the same location – the middle of just about nowhere but a bunch of dairy farms.

On the exact same date – early Sunday morning.

Peddling their yummy wares for the same price – nothing.

What’s for sale today – I ask.

Young girl - Lemonade and cookies! Oatmeal, chocolate chip and chewy cherry cookies.

Did you make them yourself?

Young girl – I made the chocolate chip and the oatmeal and my mom helped me with the cherry.

I see they’re free again this year. What’s that all about?

Young girl (obviously the threesome’s official spokesperson) – They’re free because you are riding your bikes to raise money to fight cancer we thought it would be a good idea to show-up with cookies and lemonade to help out. We did it last year you know.

OK. OK. What cookie do you recommend?

All three chime-in – Chewy cherry!

Good. I’ll take one.

I have to tell you that the chewy cherry was a good pick. Oatmeal, cherry and chocolate chips – and very chewy. It was excellent. (I need to get a hold of the recipe).

I still cannot believe you’re giving away these cookies for free.

All three in unison – Hey mister. We take tips you know!

I hit the tip can with the last five bucks in my fanny pack. The cycling team behind me helps themselves to cookies and lemonade and stuffs a twenty in the can.

Want to know where all those tips ended-up?

Yep. The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

Kids, cookies, lemonade and a touch of hucksterism. What’s not to like about that?

Small town America.

That what keeps America great and a smile on my face.

Riding With the Devil

You are absolutely not going to believe who I rode my bike with today.

And for a good cause too.

What's the world coming to?

We all agreed that Mr. Beelzebub spends way too much time in the shower. About three times longer than anyone else.

High maintenance is the devil...

A Little Longer Ride

Been doing some training and I'm going to do a 150 miler.

If the weather is cooperative I figure if I leave Mequon before 7:30 AM I can get to Manitowoc by 1:30 PM or thereabouts. Same for Manitowoc to Sturgeon Bay.

I plan on carbo loading the night before each leg of the ride.

Sprecher product.

Migrants, POWs and Labor Markets

The Door County paper runs a column a couple of times a week that is titled: Traveling Back in the Advocate Times.

It's a time capsule of stories from their archives dating-back ten, twenty, fifty, one hundred and a hundred and twenty five years.

Published are all sorts of useful tidbits including stuff like tax assessments, who built a new shingle factory, the going price for a barrel of pickled fish a hundred years ago, who got kicked by their horse, shot-off their finger, or the random cow that was struck by lightening. Marriage, birth and death records are included.

What has always struck me is a glitch in the birth records a couple of generations ago.

Namely a disproportionate number of Hispanic-surnamed parents. Mostly clustered about the summer months and hardly ever during the winter.

This would make sense.

Migrant laborers arriving for the seasonal harvest of orchard crops.


Traveling about the peninsula you'll still find outposts of crumbling housing.

Poking around inside you'll find rusted bed springs and dilapidated furniture.

I wonder what kind of stories these dwellings would tell?

During the war there was a general shortage of labor.

Temporary housing was built in Sturgeon Bay to house the thousands of shipyard workers. With military recruitment for the war effort and the boom in manufacturing farm help was hard to come-by.

Solution?

Prisoners of war. Believe it or not - German POWs were placed with farm families and orchard growers to fill the gap.

By the way - unemployment on the peninsula is not anywhere near as high as many places around the state. It's actually shown some improvement lately.

Whistling Past the Grave Yard

Germans are not the dominant ethnic group on the peninsula. They never were and never will be. Belgians settled the southern part of the peninsula and the Norwegians populated the northern portion.

Germans could be found east of the primary Belgian settlement near the town of Kolberg with scattered families around the rest of the county.

So - what's your point?

When I'm out riding about on my bicycle I am fond of visiting cemeteries.

Are you some sort of creepy ghoul?

No. I just like to visualize the lives lived and lost by the people that are buried there. Grave yards can be vast repositories of history if you don't mind taking the time to check them out. There's more on the subject over at the other blog.

Check out this grave marker-



It marks the resting spot of an early German settler.
What strikes me is the singular uniqueness of it.

It was crafted in Germany of porcelain in the form of a missal or bible and it lays flat on the ground. It is a bit faded and worn but hasn't been shattered by the grounds keeper's mower.

I cannot tell if it is the original marker or a modern-day or more recent marker.

Click on the photo to enlarge

Karst Topography

Karst topography: A landscape shaped by the dissolution of a layer or layers of soluble bedrock, usually carbonate such as limestone or dolomite.

The peninsula is known for rock. Rocks here, rocks there, rocks everywhere. Rocks, rocks and more rocks.

And pretty thin soils too - which has created an altogether more complicated problem for everyone's drinking water.

Talk to a farmer and they'll wax eloquently about the farmers in Iowa County who will plow the same fields over a lifetime and hardly ever hit a rock.

I once told my brother-in-law how I could look forward to a new crop of rocks every spring.

With a serious expression he said - You mean you get more rocks every spring? Are the delivered?

Frost heaves - silly.

They are either crumbled chunks of the underlying bedrock or glacial boulders being forced to the surface by the freeze-thaw cycle every year.




Which is why Door county is known for its rock piles.












And its rock walls.

And this magnificent glacial boulder.

This is granite - and not part of the underlying rock formation.

This came from somewhere in Canada during the last glaciation about 10,000 years ago.

Imagine the power of water and ice that were marshaled to transport that stone all the way to here in an ice sheet a mile thick.

And all that ice melted without the impact of an SUV or a coal-fired power plant.

These rare rocks are called erratics.

They are a gift of the glacier.