We have news this day on the state's lumbering pursuit of an uninterrupted bike path between Minneapolis and St. Paul and the Canadian border.
As of today, the route consists of random chunks of paved path totaling maybe 130 miles scattered across the 300 miles between the Twin Cities and Grand Portage. The portions of that route without a path range from pleasant, generous highway shoulders to harrowing lanes of traffic shared with roaring semitrailer trucks.
The news? Within two years, dear readers, the paved bike path portion of this route could increase by as much as 1 percent, which would be considered a significant leap of progress.
This idea — a bike path connection from the metro to the North Woods — is not fanciful; it is state policy. The Minnesota Legislature has enthusiastically and officially authorized virtually the whole big project. The legislature has not, however, committed most of the money to pay for it.
But the idea is, again, not at a complete standstill. The Department of Natural Resources is in the final stages of design for a 3-mile path south from Grand Marais along Lake Superior to Cut Face Creek and the rest area on Hwy. 61. That would be the 1 percent progress, scheduled to open in 2020.
The 3-mile stretch is part of the Gitchi-Gami State Trail, which is also known as the Slowest Bike Project in Recorded History. Authorized by the legislature in 1999, during the Clinton Administration, the trail is supposed to stretch 89 rugged and beautiful miles from Two Harbors to Grand Marais.
So far, just 29 of those Gitchi-Gami miles are paved, partly because of legislative inattention, but also because the spectacular North Shore landscape creates unique engineering and political challenges. Case in point: The budget for the 3 miles of bike path south of Grand Marais is $5 million.
And even this small victory on the Gitchi-Gami is getting mixed reviews. The DNR's plan included a bridge to cross the Fall River as it cascades toward Lake Superior on the east side of Hwy. 61. The bridge, however, is right in front of the falls that are the river's final plunge toward the lake, obscuring the grand view from the beach. Scores of people at a public hearing last summer, and hundreds more on petitions, thought that was a bad idea. But the DNR has not yet budged.