Day 34. Park Rapids to Hill City, 79 miles

The morning started with a continental breakfast courtesy of the Super 8; I ate two mini muffins, grabbed a banana, hard boiled egg, apple, and mandarin (fun treat!), and hit the road at 6.

And by the road I mean THE TRAIL. The PAVED trail. I had been seeing all these lovely walking trails, but had not dared hope there would be one for me, and then all of a sudden I had a morning of 20 miles on tree-shaded, abundantly-benched, glorious trail.

It is, a local cyclist told me, the first Rail-to-Trail trail in the U.S., opened the year of my birth (and the bicentennial). I choose not to fact-check because I enjoy this truth, and it is harmless to believe so. I tell some runners I pass how much I love Minnesota. I announce to the morning in general that I love Minnesota. I stop and take selfies on bridges. I am giddy with Minnesota.

There are towns on this trail, with shaded pavilions and bathrooms and the like.

It was cool and lovely, and I knew the whole day wouldn’t be like this, so I reveled as thoroughly as I could. It was hard not to stop at every thoughtfully-placed bench and listen to the wind sighing in the trees (in my favor for the moment, the likely sine qua non of the a.m. rhapsody), but instead I just rode at a leisurely pace and enjoyed the heck out of it.

At some point post-trail, heading temporarily north—we’re back to going around things, though mostly lakes now 💙—I hit a non-town called Whipholt. It had no commerce or even a place of worship, best I could see, but it had a lovely little roadside beach on the unappealingly-named Leech Lake.

Inspired by a guy down the beach who stopped mid-run to admire the view and then remove his shirt to take a selfie with it as a backdrop, I also documented myself in the moment.

I got to the Hill City campground late afternoon, not expecting a whole lot. The host had called me to let me know the site I’d reserved was on a hill, and if I wanted to change it up for one on level ground right by the lake I was welcome to. Thank you, sir! When I got there he set me up with a site by the beach, and I hung out for a bit drinking Gatorade and watching folks of all ages frolic and gambol in the water. I knew it was going to rain, so I figured I’d wait to set up my tent; as it turned out, it rained twice anyway, but I managed to get the tent set up during the hour between. I kept all my stuff under the pavilion and made dinner and organized myself and watched the rainstorm from there, a pleasant place for all those activities. Two women sat down by the water chilling and talking through both rains, and a guy fishing off the dock threw on some rain gear and kept right on fishing. Minnesotans are undeterred by a summer rainstorm, a quality I admire. (They’re also undeterred by feet of snow, which I admire even more.)

And then this!

And this.

Hill City Park turned out to be pleasant surprise, and I tucked myself in for the night cozy and pleased to be sleeping outside.