urban bicycle journeys

In early July I had returned to North Carolina after a three day solo bike ride from Chicago to Milwaukee. Did I need more Wisconsin? I had previously promised my friend Lyman, who lives in Austin TX, that I would do ANOTHER cycle tour, a week with him in Wisconsin starting on July 16. It is certainly cooler up there in the summer than North Carolina, Texas, or Louisiana. I had never cycled north of Milwaukee and had heard there are rail-trails all over the state.

Lyman and I met at the Milwaukee airport, both of us with Bike Fridays in a suitcase. We are spoiled as we now insist on separate rooms even though hotels in America have gotten seriously expensive. Two hundred dollars often seems the norm, so it bears to shop aggressively. For the LAST night of this trip, I had reserved a lower cost two bedroom Airbnb in an industrial area near downtown Milwaukee, atop a brick Victorian structure on a hill that also houses a bar/restaurant called Sobelman’s. The owners had agreed to watch our bicycle suitcases for six days. On this first day we Ubered from the airport to Sobelman’s around two in the afternoon. We found a shady spot on the sidewalk across the street and put our bicycles together.

At about 3:00 PM we started cycling north, first under the freeways towards central Milwaukee.

There is a lovely downtown Milwaukee lakefront trail which segues to an inland rail-trail. We hardly had to ride on any conventional roads all the way twenty-two miles north to Cedarburg WI. Threatening clouds were rumbling and weather reports talked of approaching tornado-level weather. If we cycled quickly maybe we could beat the cataclysm.

Chasing the weather was exciting and we were still not certain of our plans. On the Google Map of Cedarburg WI I had seen something in their downtown called the Stagecoach Inn. I telephoned them from a moving bicycle on the trail and they confirmed they could offer us two rooms. We cycled up at 5:00 PM and by the time the heavy rain started at 5:35 we were already installed at the bar of their adjoining restaurant.

The next morning was crisp and bright and we had no more rain for the rest of our trip. As a Milwaukee exurb Cedarburg WI is a prosperous small town with boutiques and expensive restaurants.

We set out that day for Sheboygan WI, forty something miles from Cedarburg and sixty something miles north of Milwaukee. This is a map of our entire six day long bike ride in Wisconsin.

As visiting Southerners, we thrilled at the summer morning’s low of fifty-eight degrees. It was overcast with a breeze and sixty-one degrees as we passed this public swimming pool at 9:30 AM. The kids seemed unfazed.

The first two-thirds of the forty-two mile ride to Sheboygan was entirely on rail-trails. On a bicycle it is an extra gift when you feel safe from cars.

Ten miles into the ride we stopped for coffee (for me, oat milk latte, one pack sugar) in the lakefront town of Port Washington WI. The coffee house was next door to this place. Sausage seems a big deal in Wisconsin.

North of Port Washington the bike trails continued.

Eventually we cycled through cornfields on conventional roads with negligible car traffic.

The only thing I knew about Sheboygan is that it was mentioned in the movie Home Alone, which our family watched repeatedly in the 1990’s when the children were little. A certain polka band was “very big in Sheboygan.”

Sheboygan itself has many former factories but adjacent Kohler WI has the famous maker of bathroom fixtures. The wealthier side of Sheboygan seems the north side, but our whole-house Airbnb on the south side was charming. These are the houses across the street.

In Wisconsin we had seen signs like this.

The City of Sheboygan’s website has fascinating detail about the importance of bratwurst (“brats”) and egregious errors in serving them, such as ketchup. Sauerkraut was also considered heretic. Brats should be fried, not grilled, and should be served on a square Sheboygan style hard roll, NOT a hot dog bun. That evening we cycled over to one of the recommended spots for brats; Al & Al’s on the south side; It was billed as a German restaurant and we took seats at the adjoining bar.

That day’s special was a single brat for $ 3.50. We got one each. They were fine; who doesn’t like a sausage? If you take the city’s website as gospel, Al & Al’s was breaking rules by serving them on hot dog buns. We considered these as appetizers and went on to order something else. Everyone at the bar was friendly but ultimately it was a locals bar and Lyman and I felt somewhat out of place.

On the way “home” to our Airbnb on the bicycles we noticed in the twilight these Southside Sheboygan establishments.

We cycled the next morning through downtown Sheboygan, which seems fairly well put together.

We were turning west! A bike path parallels the highway all the way forty-something miles to Fond du Lac, on the shores of Lake Winnebago. I made jokes of them naming the lake after the RV, but actually the RV’s are from a separate Winnebago County in Iowa.

It was a totally safe ride but three or four hours alongside a loud major highway did not have the calming effect of more remote paths. Somewhere along the way we found a picnic spot for peanut butter and jelly, on Pepperidge Farms whole wheat. I could not find Dave’s Bread here in Wisconsin.

We pulled into Fond du Lac (population 45,000) and the Fond du Lac Beer Company.

We enjoyed our one night in Fond du Lac, although I never even saw the Lake Winnebago lakefront. We stayed in the one nice downtown hotel, the Retlaw and ate at Theo’s 24, one of one or two fancy restaurants downtown. Lake sturgeon with mashed potatoes was fine, although not memorable. Their soup of the day was seafood gumbo, Louisiana style. I live in Louisiana part of the year, and this was not Louisianian.

The next morning, a Saturday, there was a farmer’s market in downtown Fond du Lac.

Twenty-two miles north of Fond du Lac, also on Lake Winnebago, is Oshkosh WI. Two days hence in Oshkosh would start the country’s and likely the world’s largest annual gathering of privately owned airplanes; over five days something like ten thousand airplanes and six hundred thousand people. Both of us love looking at airplanes and we considered biking up there, but without camping equipment there was nowhere to stay and our Fond du Lac hotel was doubling its prices starting the next day. We instead chose to cycle south, trying put some distance from the overpriced and overbooked hotels and b&b’s.

I use Google Maps on my phone to navigate in America. There are other apps but learning new software is exhausting. This day we first cycled eight miles on a conventional highway from Fond du Lac to a town called Eden WI.

Eden showed to be the beginning the Eisenbahn State Trail, a presumably lovely rail trail that would extend almost thirty miles south. Paved trails normally show as a black line and unpaved trails a dotted line.

Eden WI is barely a town, just a settlement of a few hundred people. Lyman wanted a Gatorade for the thirty mile ride to come, and he looked into a little mini-mart near the corner of Main Street and US45 but it had gone out of business. The Google Map at the point we stood was very specific. This should be the start of the Eisenbahn State Trail! (This is a zoom-in from the map above.)

There was no trail. Lyman and I gently looped around on our bicycles, enjoying the morning but not knowing what to do next. As I circled back towards Main Street I saw a guy standing in the middle of S Fond Du Lac Ave waiving his arms around.

He said he sees lost cyclists like us all the time, every day perhaps. He said the beginning of the Eisenbahn State Trail was actually not right here, that Google Maps is just plain wrong, The trail would start a half a mile from where we stood, just cycle a hundred yards to the south, then take the first left, then another left, in a way that we never would have known. We had failed to notice that this guy had put up his own tiny handmade bicycle directional signs on a couple of well placed telephone poles.

I wish I remembered his name. He said he owned many of the small businesses that we stood next to, that his family had lived in Eden WI for a hundred years. He and his wife love to go bicycling and had taken several long distance bicycle tours. He said that if we were impressed by the rail trails in Wisconsin, the ones in Minnesota were even better. He just wanted to talk. What a nice guy.

When we found the trail it was delightful, unpaved but smooth.

We stayed that evening in the town of West Bend WI (population 31,000) thirty-seven miles northwest of Milwaukee. The town seems thriving, wealthy even. New housing is being built around downtown. There are numerous manufacturers and finance companies based here. Wikipedia says the world’s largest maker of leather billfolds Amity Leather was in West Bend from 1915 to 1996.

We stopped for what I call soft serve ice cream and they call custard. Vanilla with chocolate sauce and chopped nuts, please; hold the cherry and whipped cream.

We had found a nice one bedroom Airbnb occupying the entire second floor of a downtown building, above a travel agency and next door to a steak restaurant that we did not eat at. Using online photos I correctly determined that one guy (me) could sleep on the sofa in the huge separate living room.

Across the street and down the block is a brewery. We sat on their terrace overlooking the Milwaukee River.

Somewhat later we had dinner across the street at The Norbert, which advertises as “inventive small plates in a trendy haunt.” The scene could not have been more different than the working class bar in Sheboygan two days earlier. I do not know this guy.

“Small plates” in Wisconsin were not all that small. Salmon ceviche salad was disappointing but the pork belly chalupas were delicious.

Lyman got steak sandwich on focaccia.

The next morning we cycled off into Wisconsin. Just a few blocks from our Airbnb Lyman insisted we stop at the circa 1889 courthouse in West Bend WI. His work as an architect in Texas had been in historic preservation of courthouses.

We ultimately found ourselves cycling on country roads passing through the fringes of Milwaukee exurbs. Some had put their politics out in the open.

We later picnicked under a shade tree with homemade peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Further on we found Robert’s Frozen Custard. Lyman had wanted a banana split. This ice cream parlor felt they had to have Fox News playing at the counter.

That evening we found ourselves in the strip mall suburbia of the otherwise colorful sounding Menomonee Falls WI. The “suites” of Springhill Suites by Marriott were actually just rooms with a sofa but the cable TV worked great and it was all very comfortable, except for the incessant roar of trucks on I-41 about a hundred yards from my window.

Dinner that evening was more soulful as we cycled about two miles in the summer golden hour to a former Western Sizzler that is now the locally owned Pepino’s. Almost all the other customers had left by the time we arrived at 7:55 PM but the vibe at the bar was jovial.

First course, each a bowl of tomato soup.

They didn’t have eggplant parmesan but our split of a spinach lasagna was satisfying. I am sure I broke all sorts of culinary rules by washing it down with New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. Here in working class America they give you a big pour.

Menomonee Falls is adjacent to the start of a westbound away-from-Milwaukee-traffic rail trail. The next morning’s cycling was relaxing. Those of us from hotter climates appreciated just being outdoors with a crisp lack of heat oppression.

I just had to stop and sing a song.

The trail continued through exurbs for thirteen miles but ultimately we found ourselves cycling west on country roads.

In these western exurbs of the Milwaukee area we had trouble finding somewhere to buy a Gatorade. We came upon Stone Bank Farm Market.

I love healthy but these ten or eleven dollar juices plus similarly expensive tea and coffee drinks were slowly and amateurishly prepared. Both our drinks tasted terrible! Many patrons were nattily dressed in country club attire. Among the fifteen cars in the parking lot, I saw one Ferrari and one Maserati, as well as various BMW’s and Mercedes’s. There were lots of posters about healthy lifestyles.

As we left, only a quarter mile away was the kind of retail business we might have been looking for.

There are subdivisions popping up thirty miles west of downtown Milwaukee. Even further west our day’s destination, the lakefront town Oconomowoc WI (population 18,000) seems to have been a resort for many years but there are hardly any hotels . We were still looking when we pulled into town in the later afternoon. We found a spot for an outdoor beer and passed these people at the bar.

We finally found a decent sounding Airbnb but the owner needed two hours. We passed time around a central public square with a picnic table. We didn’t see anyone around so I played a couple of songs on the ukulele.

An entitled looking young man of about fourteen walked by with two girls. He must have thought we were homeless or busking and walked up and dropped a five dollar bill. I tried to give it back. When I was fourteen that was a lot of money but he just walked off. This may have been the first time I was ever paid to play music!

The Airbnb was an entire 1920’s house about a mile from downtown. We cycled back into town for dinner. In the South no one eats outside in the summer. In Oconomowoc Wisconsin at a place called Kavos the golden hour light was mesmerizing as we dug into Mediterranean style entrees.

Our next and final day’s destination was back to central Milwaukee and that bar/restaurant/Airbnb called Sobelman’s. In most of America the worst kind of bicycle riding is across suburbia, navigating around the huge four to six lane arterial Veteran’s Highways or 15-501s or Virginia Beach Boulevards. This day here in Wisconsin we were able to cycle that forty something miles almost entirely on rail trails.

On our last day I was already thinking of the next Wisconsin bike trip. There is so much we had not seen! We had not eaten at a supper club, for example. I had read of these 1950’s era fancy destination rural restaurants with complex cocktail lists, presumably with a dark velour interior. This morning we passed something called Kurt’s Steakhouse. Perhaps it qualifies.

Closer to town I was again inspired. This ain’t no party and the video is less than a minute.

The final miles into our part of Milwaukee was through rail yards and heavy industry. Eventually we cycled up to our Airbnb. Thirty second silent video.

In Wisconsin style we sipped a shandy while putting the bicycles in their suitcases.

That evening we Ubered a couple of miles to downtown Milwaukee and actually did find eggplant parmesan which is obviously not a Wisconsin dish. Both on the airplane and around Wisconsin we had had people express fear or derision of even going into Milwaukee. Dinner on the sidewalk in its downtown was idyllic. They love the summer up here.

We both flew home the next morning.