Yesterday, after the guys took off for the golf course, Harriet and I decided we would check out the bike trail and bike into Hampton. Now, one of the Great Truths of the Universe is that a road that seems flat and short in a motorized vehicle becomes moutainous and about 50 miles on a three-speed bike into a stiff breeze. Especially when you're old. So the road south from the park to Highway 3 was a real challenge to my stamina and biking skills. But finally, the trail turns east along the highway, and we made better progress, even with a side wind. We stopped at a farm on the way at one of the plethora of garage sales and picked up snacks at a stand supporting the local food pantry.
At the edge of town, the bike trail turns north--a huge relief with the wind behind us. Then we followed it east across the north edge of town. When it appeared we were headed back into the countryside, we were afraid we would end up in Dubuque, so we turned and rode through the cemetery. I was able to show Harriet where the cemetery pond had been when I was growing up, that was a perfect Currier and Ives ice skating rink in the winter, complete with a six sided warming shed and wood stove.
At the edge of town, the bike trail turns north--a huge relief with the wind behind us. Then we followed it east across the north edge of town. When it appeared we were headed back into the countryside, we were afraid we would end up in Dubuque, so we turned and rode through the cemetery. I was able to show Harriet where the cemetery pond had been when I was growing up, that was a perfect Currier and Ives ice skating rink in the winter, complete with a six sided warming shed and wood stove.
From there, we followed side streets downtown. Since it was nearing lunch, and we were being overtaken by the nap virus, we let our boyfriends know that they could pick us up in town and buy us lunch. Two lucky guys, right? While we waited, we explored some of Hampton's delightful specialty shops--the Cornerstone Cottage, the Wood Cellar, and the Orange Possum. At the Orange Possum, I spotted a pair of Minnetonka boots and fell in love. There are not many name brands that make my heart beat faster but Minnetonka moccasins is one of them. The clerk said that was the last pair they had of that style and Harriet told me if they were my size, I was meant to buy them. What could I do? Of course, it isn't really surprising that the last pair to sell is a size 10, but still.
By that time our chariot arrived, and after a great lunch at the Rustic Brew, the bikes were loaded and we headed back to the campground for naps. We recovered our energy and appetites enough to indulge in a hearty supper and then walked some of that off with a trek to the beautiful spillway and some sunset picture taking. Thank goodness for digital cameras, because I do go overboard for sunsets and ended up with about 25 photos. It's hard to beat the sunsets on Beed's Lake on a perfect night.
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