Beavers, beer and bays

After a couple of days fishing on Gull Lake with family (the walleye weren’t biting), I park my car in town at the Brainerd/Baxter Trailhead, pack a rack bag with some essentials and head out north on my Surly Cross-Check steel touring bike. Wildflowers line the trail, and pollen sticks to my grippy front tire, leaving a green stripe up the middle.

My first stop, at Mile 16, is the tourist town of Nisswa, which is bustling with Saturday shoppers and brunchers. Naturally, I beeline to one of Nisswa’s two breweries, Big Axe Brewing Co. It’s only 11 a.m., but I allow myself half of a 10-ounce pour of creamy Chocolate Milk Stout. On the way out of town, I pass the annual Nisswa-Stämmen folk festival in a park, and stop to listen to some live Scandinavian fiddle tunes.

The trail soon passes through a Hwy. 371 expansion project that looks like Paul himself went into road rage with his ax. And roughly from Pequot Lakes to Pine River, the trail hews a little too closely to the highway, and parts could stand to be repaved. I put my head down and pedal harder into a moderate headwind.

Soon enough, the trail gets prettier, and the towns get quirkier. Backus is named for one of the great environmental villains of Minnesota history: lumberman Edward Wellington Backus, who tried to develop the Boundary Waters. So the town square centers on something else: Colonel Cobber, a creepy 8-foot wooden statue of an anthropomorphic corn-on-the-cob, complete with a bizarre back story on a plaque.

Hackensack is even weirder. Did you know Paul Bunyan had a girlfriend? It’s true. A 17-foot statue of frontierswoman Lucette stands in front of Birch Lake; her name is also on a neighboring pizzeria. Hackensack, I know, is also home to Udom’s, which must be the best Thai restaurant in northern Minnesota.

North of Hack, the sloughs on either side of the trail are a hot spot for beaver sightings. I find one swimming furiously around a small pool, occasionally submerging with a whack of the tail. Another beaver joins him, and I score a snapshot of two beavers at a time.

A pivotal fork in the road appears. The main route veers west into the most adventurous part of the trail, and my favorite stretch of bike trail in Minnesota. For 7 miles, it whips, rises and falls through old-growth pines of the Paul Bunyan State Forest (of course), miles from modernity, before heading to Walker. If you’re tired, the newer Shingobee Connection Trail shaves off 8 miles to Walker. I save the shortcut for my return trip and hit the forest.

An hour later I arrive in Walker, bushed. Situated above a majestic bay of Leech Lake, Minnesota’s third-largest interior lake, Walker is an ideal hub for exploring the Paul Bunyan Trail, as well as the intersecting Heartland State Trail. Exhausted and famished, I’m grateful that I’ve booked two nights at Walker’s vintage hotel, Chase on the Lake.

Bemidji, bison burgers and Babe

On Sunday morning I take a couple of runs through the Chase’s classy breakfast buffet and head out for Day 2.

The trail moves into the woods, wetlands and meadows of Hubbard County, dotted with tiny villages with names like Laporte and Guthrie, whose primary landmarks are old cemeteries. There are few cars or buildings over a serene 30-mile stretch. Big black dragon­flies buzz alongside my helmet.

By noon, I return to civilization. Bemidji, “the first city on the Mississippi,” is another proud town on a big lake. I take the requisite photos of the iconic 1937 statues of Paul and Babe the Blue Ox, which dwarf my bicycle.

Downtown Bemidji is largely shut down on a brilliant Sunday afternoon. I admire the Beaux Arts-style Beltrami County Courthouse and pretend to look for Lester Nygaard’s insurance agency, or other locations from “Fargo” Season 1, which was set in Bemidji but filmed in Canada. Lunch is a juicy bison burger with fries and a side of coleslaw at Brigid’s, an Irish pub, while Bill, a local retiree, and I watch the Twins beat the Red Sox.

Checking my bike map, I consider an alternate route back to my hotel. I could cut southeast to Cass Lake via wide-shouldered roads, then return to Walker via the Heartland State Trail, sister trail to the Paul Bunyan. But a stiff 25 mile per hour southeast wind ripping across Lake Bemidji makes it clear that I’ll find it easier to return via the relatively wind-protected Paul Bunyan. Little do I know, I’ll soon be caught in a storm anyway.

Finishing lunch at Brigid’s, I take a moment to savor the trip. I’ve finally made it to the birthplace of Paul Bunyan, on a bike. My thighs feel like rocks. And now it’s just 100 miles back to my car.