As I reached the top step, the lady said, “They’re closed.” What a gut punch. After removing my sweaty gear and helmet, I nodded to them as I headed for the door. The parking lot was empty except for an older couple gearing up to climb back on their BMWs. Because I was on the TWAT and not driving by car, it took three hours before I finlly pulled off the trail at the diner, a chrome-and-neon oasis in the middle of nowhere.
He said it was about an hour away, so I bought some beef jerky to hold me over. Soon I was sitting back against my dry bag and flying through the sugary stuff without a care in the world.Īt a stop for gas, I asked the attendant how far it was to the Delta Diner. Rather than panic, I drew upon the wisdom of my YouTube tutors – Don’t cut the power abruptly Lean back and give it gas Ride it out until the bike stabilizes – and I recovered. Not far in, I experienced my first tank slapper after putting too much weight on the front wheel. So far, I’d only taken a few dabs and no falls, so I expected this to be my day to eat humble pie. The third day on the Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail called for sand, which had seemed treacherous on the YouTube training videos. A sense of accomplishment and a nice Irish whiskey buzz made for a more enjoyable night in the woods. That night by the campfire, I felt like a new man. I strolled to a gas station for a six-pack and a cup of ice that I filled with Jameson. For $2 in change, the sweat and dirt disappeared down the drain while the satisfaction of completing two days of off-road exploration lingered.
The campground’s coin-operated shower revived me. Late afternoon sunlight shines on the lake and filters through the trees at Chippewa Campground.
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