The Minnesota Ironman is a very well supported and very popular jaunt from the Minnesota exurbs into near farm country and back. A lot of pretty, bucolic miles and a few plain ones alongside frontage roads.
Not sure if you're from these parts, friend. If not, let me caution you on two matters. First, something about that weekend seems doomed by the Gods of Meteorology. (Kali's less friendly cousin in the pantheon?) Unless you're a damn hearty soul, the winds can be, how shall we put it, bracing? Stiff? Sadistic? (If you're looking for amusement, go to a weather site like wunderground.com and check out the conditions from the last five years.)
Last, though this Republic of Tundrastan has a well-deserved reputation for topographic monotony, the Ironman course is anything but flat. It rolls up and down and up and down--and, if your summer legs aren't totally under you yet in mid-April, I dare say it seems to roll more up than down.
Did I mention the wind?
Flavimbo