a bit of bicycling
a small delay
looking ahead
Inside a tree on the bicycle trip down the Pacific coast highway
And this journey called life has taken me for some interesting turns. After a few years working in consulting to London and brief period in South Africa, I accepted a role with The Gates Foundation working on polio eradication in Nigeria. Here are a few photos from that time...
Holding a baby being immunized against polio with oral polio vaccine
This story's a bit longer, but the gist of it is that I had the great honor of receiving a traditional title from the Emir of Kaltungo... which I did not appreciate until the day involved wearing a cape and riding a horse
... and more photos and background on the polio work in Nigeria here. It's been an incredible experience, but all good things must come to an end, and I'll be moving on from that role shortly.
So this seemed like a good time to revisit the bucket list goals I set my sights on in my previous post. Believe it or not, I did manage to drag myself 26.2 miles! It wasn't speedy, and it wasn't pretty, and I sure as anything will not do it again... but it was an incredible experience. The moment I remember most was seeing a group of firemen all sitting on the top of their truck that they'd parked along the course to cheer for the runners. And it was so extraordinary that these actual heroes were cheering for us as though we were the heroes. It was an emotional and amazing experience.
Surviving a marathon
I'm still working on the languages and scuba diving, but I'm turning my attention next to the bicycle goals: bicycling the Tour de France route, and bicycling across the (non-cold!) continents.
I've signed up three years now to bicycle the Tour de France route with a charity called The William Wates Foundation. Unfortunately, my body had other ideas for me (which it seems to have the habit of doing more and more the older I get!). The first year, my hip decided it needed replacing (long story... due to a disorder with the way it developed... I knew a hip replacement was coming for some time, but didn't know it would be quite so soon!). And the second year, my knee had a bit of a melt down, and the meniscal allograft which had been transplanted into my knee 15 years ago had worn down and required replacement. So, as they say, third time is the charm, and 2017 is the year I plan to bicycle the Tour de France route.
I also decided to chip away on the continent goal and do some bicycling in my home for the last several years: Africa. In February, I'm going to begin bicycling with a tour group from Nairobi, and see how far the old body allows me to get. Hopefully all the way to Cape Town with the group, but I've just signed up for the first leg of the trip now and will see what the knee and hip think about the situation.
They truly were not joking when people said it's all downhill from thirty. Here's what I was up to for my 30th birthday...
Half Iron Man in South Africa
... and on my 31st birthday, I was on crutches recovering from a hip replacement! Today is incidentally another (to remain unspecified!) birthday. So, while it seems you can't stop yourself from aging, I'm hoping to demonstrate that that doesn't have to stop you from adventuring. Wish me luck! And let us also hope that I don't do this!
looking back
In the days after the Big Ride ended, my heart was heavy. I'd become so close to all of these people, and shared and amazing experience and bond, and they were all gone. It was a really tough transition back into the "real world".
I went for a run they day after the ride ended, and that served as day 1 of marathon training. I don't know what marathon, but I need to do something to keep myself out of trouble!
I like to make lists. I think they're nice. I've made a few throughout this trip, and now seems like a reasonable time to share them. So here goes...
Lessons learned
Bicycles work best when you keep the rubber side down.
Underwear is overrated
Flip flops are underrated
My bucket list
Learn (really learn) French and Spanish
Bicycle across every continent (except the really cold one... who needs that?)
Bicycle the Tour de France route
Run a marathon
Learn how to scuba dive
Things I’ll miss
The companionship
The beautiful simplicity of life on the road
The trail mix
The exercise and the endorphins
Possible funding sources to support my new life plan of being a fulltime bicycler
Become an immensely excellent blogger and rake in ad revenues
Game the lottery system (all those statistics courses have got to be useful for something! :o))
Become a day trader
Two days before my scheduled flight, I got an email from the UK Border Agency -- my work visa was approved. One day before my scheduled flight, my passport, shiny new visa and all, was back in my hands. On the day of my scheduled flight, I boarded the plane and headed off for a new adventure.
I'll finish with the motto that developed over the last days of the trip... while I may no longer be a Big Rider, I'll always ride big. :o)
I went for a run they day after the ride ended, and that served as day 1 of marathon training. I don't know what marathon, but I need to do something to keep myself out of trouble!
I like to make lists. I think they're nice. I've made a few throughout this trip, and now seems like a reasonable time to share them. So here goes...
Lessons learned
My bucket list
Things I’ll miss
Possible funding sources to support my new life plan of being a fulltime bicycler
Two days before my scheduled flight, I got an email from the UK Border Agency -- my work visa was approved. One day before my scheduled flight, my passport, shiny new visa and all, was back in my hands. On the day of my scheduled flight, I boarded the plane and headed off for a new adventure.
I'll finish with the motto that developed over the last days of the trip... while I may no longer be a Big Rider, I'll always ride big. :o)
the last day
We awoke in the morning with heavy hearts, and also many with heavy heads, a remnant of the previous night's celebrations. We packed up the gear truck as usual, all knowing that it wasn't usual. The next time our bags came out of that truck would be the last time. They'd be going into our hotels and cars, ready to be scattered around the country along with all of us.
As luck would have it, I'd managed to get myself stuck with one last breakfast duty, but I wasn't left behind because everyone lingered at the campsite this morning, saying their goodbyes and delaying the last journey. We rode slowly and in large groups through the forests of Maryland. Then the boys took off (typical! ;o)). Caitlin and I rode together through mile 15 or so, at which point it suddenly seemed a good idea to catch the boys. And catch them, we did.
I kept cycling and cycling, as hard as I could. Taking out all of my frustrations and anxieties on the road. I was on a free fall from space to earth... but on a bicycle. Suddenly I noticed that I was all by myself. I'd passed them all, and while this trip has been an amazing lesson in learning how much more you can do as a group than as an individual, it has also been a period of immense personal growth. Physically, I became much stronger -- if you recall on the first day of the trip, I was the little lantern rouge bringing up the rear of the train. And here I was on our last day ahead of all others (to be fair, I'm sure they weren't riding their hardest... but still, it was something!). In addition to gaining physical strength, I'd grown tougher mentally as well. Who in the world knew that if you just kept your marbles together minute by minute, you'd end up on the other side of the country? It was an amazing lesson in what you can do when you put your mind to it. And by "you", I mean YOU. If I can do this, Lord knows anyone else can do it. I am not particularly athletic. I am no fine physical specimen. I'm just a girl who decided to do something and did it. And if I can do that, then I'm absolutely certain you can set your mind to, and do, incredible things too. Okay, inspirational moment over... returning to the story. :o)
The last several miles of the route were on a bicycle path in D.C., and it was filled with other bikers, joggers, and walkers. As I was riding along, a fellow on a bicycle behind me must have ready my bicycle jersey (designed by the amazing Daria Kurkjy)...
... and noticed that it was our last day of a cross country trip. We started chatting, and he carried his journey on to show me through town so I wouldn't have to work out the route alone. We cycled around the amazing sites of D.C. together, taking pictures as we went, and it was glorious to have a personal tour guide to point all the cool buildings and history I would have otherwise missed.
We all met for lunch together at a Greek restaurant owned by a Big Ride alumni. He very kindly serves an amazing (and amazingly large) lunch of heavenly Greek food for the riders on their last day. He had also put together a collage of photos from previous Big Rides in the shape of the U.S. It was amazing to see part of the larger tradition in which I'd been able to participate, and also to see some of the phenomenal alumni -- one woman did not have the use of her legs but pedalled her way across America using a hand powered bicycle. Another alumni did the Big Ride once, lost a leg in an accident, and came back and did the Big Ride again with a single leg. Another rider had lost his leg and had a prosthetic leg. As difficult as this journey was for me, I can't imagine how much effort was required for these heroes to journey across America.
As the other riders trickled in, it wasn't immediately clear when we should be saying our goodbyes. After lunch, we were all going to bicycle onto the Mall and meet our families near the reflect pool. Perhaps that was the time? But then we had to meet by the gear truck to get our bags... maybe it was better then? Or perhaps now, over lunch, was the right time? I couldn't bring myself to do them... so I just kept shovelling Greek food into my mouth.
We rode two by two from the restaurant to the National Monument, spaced out by a few minutes between pairs, so that we could all get our medals and get to our families without mass chaos. Bestie and I rode in together and had to tell jokes the whole way to keep from crying. It was a bittersweet ending.
It was great to see my family, and I was so glad that they had been able to meet me at the finish. Also, my sweet friends Jen and Steve came and met me at the finish line. It was all a great swirl of emotion, and the afternoon passed in a blur. There were several logistical items to be sorted out -- getting to the hotel, collecting our bags from the gear truck -- and I was able to distract myself with these for a while. However, as I said goodbye to everyone (it could be put off no longer), my heart was so heavy. I said goodbye to Bestie last, and at that point I began to cry. When I walked into the lobby of the hotel, I fell apart and the tears ran freely.
My poor family had come all of this way and probably thought I would be happy to see them, but there I was sitting on the floor of the hotel room, a sobbing disaster. My sweet Mom kept pulling out goodies, like chocolates, and handing them to me in an effort to help patch up the situation.
That night, it rained outside. And of all things, I wanted nothing more than to be in my tent with the pitter patter of rain drops splashing down around me.
As luck would have it, I'd managed to get myself stuck with one last breakfast duty, but I wasn't left behind because everyone lingered at the campsite this morning, saying their goodbyes and delaying the last journey. We rode slowly and in large groups through the forests of Maryland. Then the boys took off (typical! ;o)). Caitlin and I rode together through mile 15 or so, at which point it suddenly seemed a good idea to catch the boys. And catch them, we did.
I kept cycling and cycling, as hard as I could. Taking out all of my frustrations and anxieties on the road. I was on a free fall from space to earth... but on a bicycle. Suddenly I noticed that I was all by myself. I'd passed them all, and while this trip has been an amazing lesson in learning how much more you can do as a group than as an individual, it has also been a period of immense personal growth. Physically, I became much stronger -- if you recall on the first day of the trip, I was the little lantern rouge bringing up the rear of the train. And here I was on our last day ahead of all others (to be fair, I'm sure they weren't riding their hardest... but still, it was something!). In addition to gaining physical strength, I'd grown tougher mentally as well. Who in the world knew that if you just kept your marbles together minute by minute, you'd end up on the other side of the country? It was an amazing lesson in what you can do when you put your mind to it. And by "you", I mean YOU. If I can do this, Lord knows anyone else can do it. I am not particularly athletic. I am no fine physical specimen. I'm just a girl who decided to do something and did it. And if I can do that, then I'm absolutely certain you can set your mind to, and do, incredible things too. Okay, inspirational moment over... returning to the story. :o)
The last several miles of the route were on a bicycle path in D.C., and it was filled with other bikers, joggers, and walkers. As I was riding along, a fellow on a bicycle behind me must have ready my bicycle jersey (designed by the amazing Daria Kurkjy)...
We rode two by two from the restaurant to the National Monument, spaced out by a few minutes between pairs, so that we could all get our medals and get to our families without mass chaos. Bestie and I rode in together and had to tell jokes the whole way to keep from crying. It was a bittersweet ending.
My poor family had come all of this way and probably thought I would be happy to see them, but there I was sitting on the floor of the hotel room, a sobbing disaster. My sweet Mom kept pulling out goodies, like chocolates, and handing them to me in an effort to help patch up the situation.
That night, it rained outside. And of all things, I wanted nothing more than to be in my tent with the pitter patter of rain drops splashing down around me.
reception @ the bassett
One of the youngest riders, Geena, turned 18 today, and we celebrated with birthday bagels. We had a pretty easy ride into Poolesville, Maryland despite a detour that added 5 miles to the day. We camped at the local high school and showered at the county pool down the road.
As tomorrow is the last day of the Big Ride, we had a closing reception at a local restaurant, The Bassett. Bridgett, an American Lung Association employee and organizer of the Big Ride, met us and talked about "re-entry" into the real world. Charlton, the ride leader, shared a few tips. The first was to "keep riding.... or stop eating" and warned us about continuing to eat at our current rate without continuing to exercise as much. He also reminded us that we "can't pee anywhere you like anymore". As we laughed and talked, my heart grew heavy.
I'd known that it was all drawing to a close. As we got further into our journey, the commentary of people we met turned from "Heck, you've got a long way to go. Hope you make it!" to "Well, I reckon you're about half way there" to "You're nearly there, it won't be long now. I can't believe you've come so far". I'd ticked off nearly all of the states on our route, and the vegetation had evolved from the wild cacti of the west to the more familiar deciduous greens of the east. So while I "knew" it would be ending soon, I didn't know it, know it until today. At these "closing ceremonies," there was no escaping it.
Throughout the evening, it was like a league of black clouds assembled right over my head forming a little storm -- one cloud scampered in from stage right proclaiming "You have such a happy, simple, adventure-filled life right now, and it's about to come to an end"; the next cloud appeared from stage left telling me "You're never going to see all these people that you've grown so close to again"; the next one seemed to assemble in little bits from all directions and told me "Your visa won't be approved, and you won't be able to move back to England"; and the last one swooped down from directly above announcing "You have no back up plan in life about where to live or what to do. You're a drifter with no future."
I might have been able to handle any of these clouds on their own, but together, when they teamed up on me like this, I didn't stand a chance. And, while I knew that some of the clouds were lying, or at least stretching the truth, I didn't have the willpower at the time to reason with them. It was a sad night of goodbyes as the little storm raged over my head.
As tomorrow is the last day of the Big Ride, we had a closing reception at a local restaurant, The Bassett. Bridgett, an American Lung Association employee and organizer of the Big Ride, met us and talked about "re-entry" into the real world. Charlton, the ride leader, shared a few tips. The first was to "keep riding.... or stop eating" and warned us about continuing to eat at our current rate without continuing to exercise as much. He also reminded us that we "can't pee anywhere you like anymore". As we laughed and talked, my heart grew heavy.
I'd known that it was all drawing to a close. As we got further into our journey, the commentary of people we met turned from "Heck, you've got a long way to go. Hope you make it!" to "Well, I reckon you're about half way there" to "You're nearly there, it won't be long now. I can't believe you've come so far". I'd ticked off nearly all of the states on our route, and the vegetation had evolved from the wild cacti of the west to the more familiar deciduous greens of the east. So while I "knew" it would be ending soon, I didn't know it, know it until today. At these "closing ceremonies," there was no escaping it.
Throughout the evening, it was like a league of black clouds assembled right over my head forming a little storm -- one cloud scampered in from stage right proclaiming "You have such a happy, simple, adventure-filled life right now, and it's about to come to an end"; the next cloud appeared from stage left telling me "You're never going to see all these people that you've grown so close to again"; the next one seemed to assemble in little bits from all directions and told me "Your visa won't be approved, and you won't be able to move back to England"; and the last one swooped down from directly above announcing "You have no back up plan in life about where to live or what to do. You're a drifter with no future."
I might have been able to handle any of these clouds on their own, but together, when they teamed up on me like this, I didn't stand a chance. And, while I knew that some of the clouds were lying, or at least stretching the truth, I didn't have the willpower at the time to reason with them. It was a sad night of goodbyes as the little storm raged over my head.
rest day in gettysburg
It was the 4th of August. I finally mailed my visa application today. My flight to England leaves on the 10th of August. My fingers and toes are crossed.
Gettysburg is a cute little town, but very touristy. I cycled through the battlefields, but, as usual, I think Daria describes the history of the town so well in her blog, that I won't attempt my own rendition. :o)
I spent the day with my sister BJ and her daughters exploring Gettysburg, which is steeped in the history of the Civil War. The famous Battle of Gettysburg was fought from July 1 - 3, 1863. It was the turning point in the Civil War and also the battle with the largest number of casualties.
The two armies suffered between 46,000 and 51,000 casualties. Union casualties have been estimated to be 23,055 (3,155 killed, 14,531 wounded, 5,369 captured or missing). Confederate casualties have been more difficult to estimate, but the most definitive work puts the number at 23,231 (4,708 killed, 12,693 wounded, 5,830 captured or missing). Nearly a third of Lee's army was killed, wounded, or captured.
The Gettysburg Address was delivered by Lincoln on November 19, 1863, at the dedication of the Soldiers' National Cemetery, four and a half months after the Union armies defeated those of the Confederacy at the Battle of Gettysburg. Although it is one of the best-known speeches in United States history, scholars have long disputed the exact wording. The Bliss version below is viewed by many as the standard text:
“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
Gettysburg is a cute little town, but very touristy. I cycled through the battlefields, but, as usual, I think Daria describes the history of the town so well in her blog, that I won't attempt my own rendition. :o)
I spent the day with my sister BJ and her daughters exploring Gettysburg, which is steeped in the history of the Civil War. The famous Battle of Gettysburg was fought from July 1 - 3, 1863. It was the turning point in the Civil War and also the battle with the largest number of casualties.
The two armies suffered between 46,000 and 51,000 casualties. Union casualties have been estimated to be 23,055 (3,155 killed, 14,531 wounded, 5,369 captured or missing). Confederate casualties have been more difficult to estimate, but the most definitive work puts the number at 23,231 (4,708 killed, 12,693 wounded, 5,830 captured or missing). Nearly a third of Lee's army was killed, wounded, or captured.
The Gettysburg Address was delivered by Lincoln on November 19, 1863, at the dedication of the Soldiers' National Cemetery, four and a half months after the Union armies defeated those of the Confederacy at the Battle of Gettysburg. Although it is one of the best-known speeches in United States history, scholars have long disputed the exact wording. The Bliss version below is viewed by many as the standard text:
“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
the hills of pennsylvania in earnest
What was a light tinkle of rain upon the tent when I went to sleep last night was a steady onslaught from above when I awoke this morning. Very happily, not a drop of it had reached my cozy cocoon inside. I was up very early as it was my team's turn for breakfast duty. As I walked back to our campsite from the bathroom, many of the riders had turned on a lantern or flash light inside their tents, and the multi-colored lit up tents look like little gum drops dotting the landscape. I realized that, while I'm generally a failure at putting up my tent, I kind of love it. The simplicity that a life on the move enforces is something I've come to savour.
I was really itching to mail in my visa application, and despite having to ride 100 miles today over hilly Pennsylvania, I was aiming to make it to Gettysburg in time to mail it, so I jetted out in the morning. Despite a flat tire, I made really good time, and the morning got even better when I spotted a Hardee's near the first checkpoint (I simply do not possess the ability to say 'no' to their cinnamon raisin biscuits). However, it turns out that the first bit of the ride was the easy bit. It got far hillier after the first checkpoint. However, I carried on at a good clip to the lunch stop. At that point, I ate very nearly my weight in food. I generally try to keep lunches light, but today I was absolutely famished. The last twenty miles of hills had completely depleted me of energy.
After stuffing myself full of all the food I could get my hands on, I took off with Caitlin with me this time. However, we got turned around heading out of the park that served as the lunch stop, and went several miles out of the way. Grrr, my plan for getting into Gettysburg to mail my application was not looking good. The hills we encountered throughout the afternoon were actually really rough and seemingly endless. As soon as we'd trudge ourselves up one, another one would show up. And another. And another. My rear end was so displeased with the whole matter, that, on multiple occasions, it threatened to resign and seek employment elsewhere. While the hills were not to my liking, the roads in Pennsylvania were fairly good for cycling. As Daria put it in her blog...
I have been very impressed with the cycling routes in Pennsylvania. In addition to the vast rail trail system that we rode on the last two days, Pennsylvania maintains a series of routes on its roads to provide cyclists with bicycle routes that cross the state. These routes were created throughout the 2000s. Much of the credit for this system goes to Former Governor Tom Ridge, an avid cyclist.
I had all of my visa application papers with me, and I was desperate to find a place to mail it today. I mean, I was seriously down to the wire -- if I don't get it mailed in soon, then there was no way I'd make my flight back to England. As we carried on battling the brutal hills through the afternoon, I began to realize that I wouldn't make it to a post office today either. I got more desperate and I got more grumpy, and poor Caitlin had to deal with me.
When we stopped in a cornfield to... powder our noses, I had a proper temper tantrum. A few years ago, I was in the airport on my way somewhere, and our flight had been delayed and delayed, and we were all tired and fussy, and I saw a little girl throw herself down on the ground and have a real temper tantrum, limbs flailing, mouth wailing. At the time, I was so exhausted and frustrated, I could think of nothing I'd rather do than throw myself on the ground beside her and join in. Ever since that time, I've lamented the social unacceptability of temper tantrums for adults. Sometimes it's just necessary. While, until this point, I've avoided having one myself, on this day, it was unavoidable.
It was cold. It had rained all day long. I have no visa. I have no post office. I have no life plan. I have no future. Or so I was telling myself. The inability to find a post office had spiraled out of control into a full blown life crisis. So I jumped up and down and cried and stomped. It felt amazing. Like gloriously amazing. Everyone should try it. Would most highly recommend it.
We carried on to a gas station just up the road, and went on what can only be described as a feeding frenzy. Despite stuffing myself at lunch, I was famished again. These hills took every bit of energy in me and drained it right out. I was so exhausted and out of it, I walked around the store four times looking for a Coke, and only found it when Caitlin asked me why I was tromping about and pointed out the Coke. I persuaded Caitlin to join me in my feeding frenzy, and we sat on the floor of the gas station munching on an appetizer of donuts while a pizza was baked for us and I continued my tantrum. Caitlin should get a medal for dealing with me that day.
We sat on the floor a while longer staring out the window and willing the rain to stop. We were still 20 miles away from Gettysburg, but I felt like I'd already ridden 200 that day. We were so exhausted. Lynn, one of the crew members, came along. We solicited a pep talk. We were staying in dorms for the upcoming rest day (hooooray!), so we asked all of the vital questions -- do we get a towel? do we have internet? do we get our own room? can a fairy come along and carry us the rest of the way?
We finally mustered up the energy to walk out into the cold, cold rain and get back on our bicycles. We plowed through the last 20 miles, fuelled by pizza and coke, and I've never been so happy to see a town as I was to see Gettysburg.
Before today, I was getting really sad that our trip was nearing an end. After today's really tough ride, I'm not so sure I'm so sad to see it all end. I think they make today's ride like it is to kind of ween us off the Big Ride. If that was their intent, I've fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.
I was really itching to mail in my visa application, and despite having to ride 100 miles today over hilly Pennsylvania, I was aiming to make it to Gettysburg in time to mail it, so I jetted out in the morning. Despite a flat tire, I made really good time, and the morning got even better when I spotted a Hardee's near the first checkpoint (I simply do not possess the ability to say 'no' to their cinnamon raisin biscuits). However, it turns out that the first bit of the ride was the easy bit. It got far hillier after the first checkpoint. However, I carried on at a good clip to the lunch stop. At that point, I ate very nearly my weight in food. I generally try to keep lunches light, but today I was absolutely famished. The last twenty miles of hills had completely depleted me of energy.
After stuffing myself full of all the food I could get my hands on, I took off with Caitlin with me this time. However, we got turned around heading out of the park that served as the lunch stop, and went several miles out of the way. Grrr, my plan for getting into Gettysburg to mail my application was not looking good. The hills we encountered throughout the afternoon were actually really rough and seemingly endless. As soon as we'd trudge ourselves up one, another one would show up. And another. And another. My rear end was so displeased with the whole matter, that, on multiple occasions, it threatened to resign and seek employment elsewhere. While the hills were not to my liking, the roads in Pennsylvania were fairly good for cycling. As Daria put it in her blog...
I have been very impressed with the cycling routes in Pennsylvania. In addition to the vast rail trail system that we rode on the last two days, Pennsylvania maintains a series of routes on its roads to provide cyclists with bicycle routes that cross the state. These routes were created throughout the 2000s. Much of the credit for this system goes to Former Governor Tom Ridge, an avid cyclist.
I had all of my visa application papers with me, and I was desperate to find a place to mail it today. I mean, I was seriously down to the wire -- if I don't get it mailed in soon, then there was no way I'd make my flight back to England. As we carried on battling the brutal hills through the afternoon, I began to realize that I wouldn't make it to a post office today either. I got more desperate and I got more grumpy, and poor Caitlin had to deal with me.
When we stopped in a cornfield to... powder our noses, I had a proper temper tantrum. A few years ago, I was in the airport on my way somewhere, and our flight had been delayed and delayed, and we were all tired and fussy, and I saw a little girl throw herself down on the ground and have a real temper tantrum, limbs flailing, mouth wailing. At the time, I was so exhausted and frustrated, I could think of nothing I'd rather do than throw myself on the ground beside her and join in. Ever since that time, I've lamented the social unacceptability of temper tantrums for adults. Sometimes it's just necessary. While, until this point, I've avoided having one myself, on this day, it was unavoidable.
It was cold. It had rained all day long. I have no visa. I have no post office. I have no life plan. I have no future. Or so I was telling myself. The inability to find a post office had spiraled out of control into a full blown life crisis. So I jumped up and down and cried and stomped. It felt amazing. Like gloriously amazing. Everyone should try it. Would most highly recommend it.
We carried on to a gas station just up the road, and went on what can only be described as a feeding frenzy. Despite stuffing myself at lunch, I was famished again. These hills took every bit of energy in me and drained it right out. I was so exhausted and out of it, I walked around the store four times looking for a Coke, and only found it when Caitlin asked me why I was tromping about and pointed out the Coke. I persuaded Caitlin to join me in my feeding frenzy, and we sat on the floor of the gas station munching on an appetizer of donuts while a pizza was baked for us and I continued my tantrum. Caitlin should get a medal for dealing with me that day.
We sat on the floor a while longer staring out the window and willing the rain to stop. We were still 20 miles away from Gettysburg, but I felt like I'd already ridden 200 that day. We were so exhausted. Lynn, one of the crew members, came along. We solicited a pep talk. We were staying in dorms for the upcoming rest day (hooooray!), so we asked all of the vital questions -- do we get a towel? do we have internet? do we get our own room? can a fairy come along and carry us the rest of the way?
We finally mustered up the energy to walk out into the cold, cold rain and get back on our bicycles. We plowed through the last 20 miles, fuelled by pizza and coke, and I've never been so happy to see a town as I was to see Gettysburg.
Before today, I was getting really sad that our trip was nearing an end. After today's really tough ride, I'm not so sure I'm so sad to see it all end. I think they make today's ride like it is to kind of ween us off the Big Ride. If that was their intent, I've fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.
the slowest morning and the fastest afternoon
We had an option of riding on the trail by the river again this morning or doing a really challenging, hilly bit. I hemmed and hawwed about it, but I'd heard tails that tomorrow's ride into Gettysburg, 100 miles of brutal hills, was the hardest of the trip. I decided going into that worn out wasn't the way forward, so I went on the trail with Caitlin, Sarah, and Kasey. I think we got it in our minds that since we'd chosen the easy route, we were going to take it to the extreme and have a blissfully easy morning. We puttered along on the trail at an easy 9 m.p.h., and stopped for a leisurely second breakfast in Rockwood, PA. We also stopped for a bit to repair Kasey's flat tire.
We figured that the others would have such a hard time with the hills that we'd have no problem getting to the point where the paths merged with time to spare. We figured wrong. The others had long since gone by the time we made it to the meet up point.
I actually have a harder time going slow in the mornings. It kind of sets the tone for the whole day. Also, I like to cover as many miles as I can in the morning, so by the time I hit a wall, I don't have so far to go. If I take it easy in the mornings, I still get tired around 1, but then still have a lot of miles ahead of me. So, while I enjoyed the leisurely morning of girly chit chat on the trail, I was rearing to go by the time we got back on the roads.
I think Caitlin felt similarly, so we took off together. It was a tough afternoon with some really difficult climbs. However, I've learned that big climbs means big descents, and I've learned to like them. When you hear the number "40", you may think of the number of days that Noah and crew spent on the ark. Or perhaps the number of days in Lent. However, when I now think of 40, it reminds me of today and how I went (Mom -- earmuffs) 40 MILES PER HOUR down the hills of Pennsylvania. It was glorious. And terrifying. I feel like such a wild child! I am usually the cautious child, but I've learned to love the feel of the wind in my hair as I whiz down the hills without squeezing the brakes the whole time.
We went through Somerset, PA today, the sight of the Flight 93 crash and memorial. Being there was incredibly moving. From the moment I walked up, a knot appeared in my throat and choked me nearly to tears. It's all too much to take in and comprehend. Mainly I felt immense gratitude -- for the sacrifice the passengers of Flight 93 made, and that I was born in a country where I can experience freedom in its full form, and for those who have made that possible throughout the history of this country. And also amazement at their bravery. And sorrow for their loss and for their families who continue living without them. And confusion about why it happened, and how different modern warfare is, and what a clash different cultures can make when they meet, and how complex our world is. And an immensely heavy and palpable sadness.
Also, a bit from Daria's blog on her experience there:
Visiting the memorial was an extremely emotional experience. Although the 9/11 tragedy occurred almost ten years ago, the memories of that day came flooding back. The crash of Flight 93 is particularly relevant to our journey as it is widely presumed that the intended target of Flight 93 was the United States Capitol Building in Washington, D.C. If the events of that day had unfolded differently, the Capitol Building might not exist.
Tonight was the second to last time I'll have to put up my tent (not that anyone, especially not me :o), is counting), and I borrowed some stakes to replace the ones I'd lost in my frenzied rain-induced panics to shelter my exposed belongings, or accidentally left at other campgrounds. They made a big difference, and kept the rain off me. I even enjoyed the light tinkle of the rain falling lightly on the tent. This was a campground with Wifi internet available throughout, so I felt like I was living the life of luxury that night. I sat in my tent, AND IT WAS DRY, surfing the internet. I reckon it's better to get the hanging of putting up a tent, such that it stays dry, late rather than never.
We figured that the others would have such a hard time with the hills that we'd have no problem getting to the point where the paths merged with time to spare. We figured wrong. The others had long since gone by the time we made it to the meet up point.
I actually have a harder time going slow in the mornings. It kind of sets the tone for the whole day. Also, I like to cover as many miles as I can in the morning, so by the time I hit a wall, I don't have so far to go. If I take it easy in the mornings, I still get tired around 1, but then still have a lot of miles ahead of me. So, while I enjoyed the leisurely morning of girly chit chat on the trail, I was rearing to go by the time we got back on the roads.
I think Caitlin felt similarly, so we took off together. It was a tough afternoon with some really difficult climbs. However, I've learned that big climbs means big descents, and I've learned to like them. When you hear the number "40", you may think of the number of days that Noah and crew spent on the ark. Or perhaps the number of days in Lent. However, when I now think of 40, it reminds me of today and how I went (Mom -- earmuffs) 40 MILES PER HOUR down the hills of Pennsylvania. It was glorious. And terrifying. I feel like such a wild child! I am usually the cautious child, but I've learned to love the feel of the wind in my hair as I whiz down the hills without squeezing the brakes the whole time.
We went through Somerset, PA today, the sight of the Flight 93 crash and memorial. Being there was incredibly moving. From the moment I walked up, a knot appeared in my throat and choked me nearly to tears. It's all too much to take in and comprehend. Mainly I felt immense gratitude -- for the sacrifice the passengers of Flight 93 made, and that I was born in a country where I can experience freedom in its full form, and for those who have made that possible throughout the history of this country. And also amazement at their bravery. And sorrow for their loss and for their families who continue living without them. And confusion about why it happened, and how different modern warfare is, and what a clash different cultures can make when they meet, and how complex our world is. And an immensely heavy and palpable sadness.
Also, a bit from Daria's blog on her experience there:
Visiting the memorial was an extremely emotional experience. Although the 9/11 tragedy occurred almost ten years ago, the memories of that day came flooding back. The crash of Flight 93 is particularly relevant to our journey as it is widely presumed that the intended target of Flight 93 was the United States Capitol Building in Washington, D.C. If the events of that day had unfolded differently, the Capitol Building might not exist.
Tonight was the second to last time I'll have to put up my tent (not that anyone, especially not me :o), is counting), and I borrowed some stakes to replace the ones I'd lost in my frenzied rain-induced panics to shelter my exposed belongings, or accidentally left at other campgrounds. They made a big difference, and kept the rain off me. I even enjoyed the light tinkle of the rain falling lightly on the tent. This was a campground with Wifi internet available throughout, so I felt like I was living the life of luxury that night. I sat in my tent, AND IT WAS DRY, surfing the internet. I reckon it's better to get the hanging of putting up a tent, such that it stays dry, late rather than never.
the hills of pennsylvania
From the very first day of this trip, I've heard about the hills of Pennsylvania. At orientation, the trip leaders talked about how the Rockies would be nothing compared to the hills of Pennsylvania. Although the Rockies are higher, the hills of Pennsylvania are far steeper. We were told that there were hills so steep in Pennsylvania, we could get to going over 60 miles per hour going down them. One reason the trip was organized so that we ride from west to east is that we wouldn't be strong enough to ride up them at the beginning of the trip. Bernie, one of the riders -- and one of the stronger riders at that -- is from Pennsylvania and told harrowing tails of the hills of Pennsylvania.
I've gotten myself so worked up about these hills of Pennsylvania that I have literally had dreams about them. I've convinced myself of two things: 1) I will not be able to bicycle up the hills, and will end up on the side of the road walking my bicycle up the hills, if not crawling. 2) If I do manage to make it successfully over the hills of Pennsylvania, I'd certainly be able to fly straight to the moon.
Today was my first real experience with the hills of Pennsylvania. And while the morning was a pretty tough ride -- and it was quite hilly as anticipated, with the steepest hill having a grade of 17% -- I think I'd built it all up so much that bicycling straight up a vertical wall would have been easier than the task of bicycling the hills of Pennsylvania as I'd imagined it.
We also bicycled through the Mingo Creek County Park and then entered the Youghiogheny River Trail, a railway turned into a dirt trail, that we stayed on the rest of the day. It's part of the Great Allegheny Passage, 350 mile trail between Pittsburgh, PA and Washington D.C. The trail is a "rails to trails" project, where a disused railway was converted into a trail of crushed limestone. As trains cannot go up steep hills, the grade is less than 1% at all times -- so even though we were going uphill all day, it was never very steep. Praise the Lord for trains! When we began on the trail, the ground we were riding on was just higher than the river. As we continued throughout the day, under the tree-provided canopies, we continually climbed until eventually we were high above the Youghogheny River and it looked like a slim line below.
I rode with Geena and Caitlin for most of the morning, and it was so relaxing to not have to worry about cars and traffic on the trail. For once, we were the only vehicles on the road! A Big Ride alumni, Fred Husak, very kindly provided lunch for us all. He and his family brought out Subway sandwiches (James Lynn, a sweet little man who has developed somewhat of a celebrity status on the trip and who I've never seen pass up the opportunity to stop at a Subway ("You always know what you're going to get"), was beside himself), fruit, cookies, and chips. I wanted to get into town early to find a printer to print some papers for my visa, so I took off before the others, and was trying to make good time to get into town before the library closed. Try as I may, it was hard to get much above 15 m.p.h. on the relatively softer surface of the trail.
On the opposite side of the river, a train line is still in use. On several occasions, I found myself riding along parallel to a train on the opposite bank, looking down up the distant Youghiogheny River, earthy smells rising up from the dark ground, and a leafy canopy of green keeping me safe from the sun. Life just seemed right.
I made it to town in time to grab the necessary papers from my luggage and jet over to the library before four. I was confident it would still be open. And had it been a day of the week the library is open, I would have been fine. But I arrived at the library to find it was closed on Mondays. FAILURE. I headed into town, feeling defeated, but found a bicycle shop, Confluence Cyclery, where the very kind owners let me use their computer and printer for free. I'm now one step closer to completing this miserable application! However, there was no Fedex / UPS in town, and the post office was closed, so I'm going to have to wait until tomorrow to mail it in to the UK Embassy in New York.
Confluence was a teensy little town, and I found out at the bicycle shop that most restaurants are closed on Mondays. I picked up some chocolate milk and blueberries from the local grocery store, Diamond Produce, and headed back to our campsite, Suder's campgrounds, on the edge of town. After convincing Bestie to throw some of my clothes in to her laundry when she went in town to the laundromat (in exchange for some of my blueberries... she has a weakness for blueberries), setting up camp, and showering off, I went to eat at the nearby Lucky Dog Cafe with several others. It's amazing how close we've all grown through the trip. At the beginning, mealtime conversation was polite, tentative, and awkward. At dinner tonight, we couldn't stop laughing. I am really going to miss this.
I've gotten myself so worked up about these hills of Pennsylvania that I have literally had dreams about them. I've convinced myself of two things: 1) I will not be able to bicycle up the hills, and will end up on the side of the road walking my bicycle up the hills, if not crawling. 2) If I do manage to make it successfully over the hills of Pennsylvania, I'd certainly be able to fly straight to the moon.
Today was my first real experience with the hills of Pennsylvania. And while the morning was a pretty tough ride -- and it was quite hilly as anticipated, with the steepest hill having a grade of 17% -- I think I'd built it all up so much that bicycling straight up a vertical wall would have been easier than the task of bicycling the hills of Pennsylvania as I'd imagined it.
We also bicycled through the Mingo Creek County Park and then entered the Youghiogheny River Trail, a railway turned into a dirt trail, that we stayed on the rest of the day. It's part of the Great Allegheny Passage, 350 mile trail between Pittsburgh, PA and Washington D.C. The trail is a "rails to trails" project, where a disused railway was converted into a trail of crushed limestone. As trains cannot go up steep hills, the grade is less than 1% at all times -- so even though we were going uphill all day, it was never very steep. Praise the Lord for trains! When we began on the trail, the ground we were riding on was just higher than the river. As we continued throughout the day, under the tree-provided canopies, we continually climbed until eventually we were high above the Youghogheny River and it looked like a slim line below.
I rode with Geena and Caitlin for most of the morning, and it was so relaxing to not have to worry about cars and traffic on the trail. For once, we were the only vehicles on the road! A Big Ride alumni, Fred Husak, very kindly provided lunch for us all. He and his family brought out Subway sandwiches (James Lynn, a sweet little man who has developed somewhat of a celebrity status on the trip and who I've never seen pass up the opportunity to stop at a Subway ("You always know what you're going to get"), was beside himself), fruit, cookies, and chips. I wanted to get into town early to find a printer to print some papers for my visa, so I took off before the others, and was trying to make good time to get into town before the library closed. Try as I may, it was hard to get much above 15 m.p.h. on the relatively softer surface of the trail.
On the opposite side of the river, a train line is still in use. On several occasions, I found myself riding along parallel to a train on the opposite bank, looking down up the distant Youghiogheny River, earthy smells rising up from the dark ground, and a leafy canopy of green keeping me safe from the sun. Life just seemed right.
I made it to town in time to grab the necessary papers from my luggage and jet over to the library before four. I was confident it would still be open. And had it been a day of the week the library is open, I would have been fine. But I arrived at the library to find it was closed on Mondays. FAILURE. I headed into town, feeling defeated, but found a bicycle shop, Confluence Cyclery, where the very kind owners let me use their computer and printer for free. I'm now one step closer to completing this miserable application! However, there was no Fedex / UPS in town, and the post office was closed, so I'm going to have to wait until tomorrow to mail it in to the UK Embassy in New York.
Confluence was a teensy little town, and I found out at the bicycle shop that most restaurants are closed on Mondays. I picked up some chocolate milk and blueberries from the local grocery store, Diamond Produce, and headed back to our campsite, Suder's campgrounds, on the edge of town. After convincing Bestie to throw some of my clothes in to her laundry when she went in town to the laundromat (in exchange for some of my blueberries... she has a weakness for blueberries), setting up camp, and showering off, I went to eat at the nearby Lucky Dog Cafe with several others. It's amazing how close we've all grown through the trip. At the beginning, mealtime conversation was polite, tentative, and awkward. At dinner tonight, we couldn't stop laughing. I am really going to miss this.
life goes on?
Brian’s description over breakfast of his panicked late night discovery of the rubber snake in his tent made me realize that I wear my heart smack dab in the middle of my sleeve. I was unable to contain my glee, and he guessed straight away that it was me. While I may have a future in law, I certainly don’t have a hope for poker.
Today’s ride was another short one as we covered the 61 miles from New Waterford, Ohio to Washington, Pennsylvania. Again, I rode with Caitlin for most of the day (we're becoming quite the riding buddies!) and we stopped ,after the first check point, for a second cup of coffee (it seems like I can’t make it without one these days!).
We crossed from Ohio into Pennsylvania today, and the changes were noticeable. The road quality improved (hello wide shoulders! :o)), but the flat lands were no more as big, rolling hills took their place; our steepest grade today was 15%, and it’s only supposed to get hillier as the week goes on. Fortunately, Rich has provided me, just in the nick of time, with the intellectual ammo I need to justify going down hills fast. As it turns out, going slowly down hills by having on the brakes the entire time can be very dangerous because it can cause the rims to overheat which can cause the tire to blow out. And the faster your wheels are going, the more inertia you have, and the more difficult you are to tip over -- kind of like a gyroscope. As such, I went 39 miles per hour today – yeehaw! Also fortunately, Rich has provided me with some good motivational music for riding up hills (I think he was fearing I'd become more insistent with my requests that he sing me a motivational song, and that he should nip that in the bud by giving me some songs from his computer to put on my iPod).
Many of the towns in this area have International names. We rode through East Palestine, Calcutta and Glasgow, and we saw signs pointing to Lisbon and Paris.
We didn’t want to make the same mistake as the previous day (ending up at a campground in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do all afternoon), so we stopped at a little dive bar several miles out from camp. We sat at the counter sipping cokes (kindly paid for by one of the bar patrons [I am on fire!]) and asked the bar tender what we should do / see in the area. She flatly informed us “there’s nothing to do around here”.
A list of banned patrons hung on the wall, and I commented that there were a lot of women on the list. I asked about what they’d done to make it on the list, and the bar tender started telling stories. Lynn slapped a girl, Deborah threw an ash tray at a man’s head, and the list of similarly appalling behaviour went on. The bar tender shook her head and said that a lot of people around there were trouble.
We didn’t spend too long at the bar and gave up on finding anything eventful to do nearby, so we headed to our stopping point for the day at the Whispering Pines Family Campground. Very happily, they did have a swimming pool, so we spent the afternoon swimming and laying in the sun.
For dinner, a delicious meal of chicken, vegetables, salad and cookies was catered at campground.
Also, another excerpt from Daria’s blog (what would I do without her?) about the nuclear power plant we passed by today…
After we crossed the Pennsylvania border, we headed east along the Ohio River and crossed over the river near the town of Midland. We rode past the two power plants that were generating the steam that I saw from Ohio. Both plants are located on the river and are operated by FirstEnergy Corp. The nuclear power plant is the Beaver Valley Power Station, which has two water reactors. The coal fired plant is the Bruce Mansfield Plant, which is FirstEnergy’s largest coal-fired power plant. They have three 800 megawatt units that burn 21,000-22,000 tons of coal per day when all three units are in operation.
Today we left behind the state of Ohio and the month of July. I am pleased about neither, as they both indicate our trip is drawing to an end. It's been such an amazing experience that I can't really imagine life where I don't wake up and ride a bicycle with my buddies each day. In fact, I can't really imagine my life at all as I'm not sure if my UK visa application will be approved and if I will be employed. I'm starting to panic about the whole business, as the end of our bicycle trip is a mere 6 days away, and I don't actually have the foggiest idea what I'm doing next in life! Perhaps it's time to start thinking about a plan B?? OR perhaps when we hit the east coast, I'll just turn right, head south, and carry on. The southern states, Mexico, Central America, and then South America should keep me occupied for a while... right? :o)
Today’s ride was another short one as we covered the 61 miles from New Waterford, Ohio to Washington, Pennsylvania. Again, I rode with Caitlin for most of the day (we're becoming quite the riding buddies!) and we stopped ,after the first check point, for a second cup of coffee (it seems like I can’t make it without one these days!).
We crossed from Ohio into Pennsylvania today, and the changes were noticeable. The road quality improved (hello wide shoulders! :o)), but the flat lands were no more as big, rolling hills took their place; our steepest grade today was 15%, and it’s only supposed to get hillier as the week goes on. Fortunately, Rich has provided me, just in the nick of time, with the intellectual ammo I need to justify going down hills fast. As it turns out, going slowly down hills by having on the brakes the entire time can be very dangerous because it can cause the rims to overheat which can cause the tire to blow out. And the faster your wheels are going, the more inertia you have, and the more difficult you are to tip over -- kind of like a gyroscope. As such, I went 39 miles per hour today – yeehaw! Also fortunately, Rich has provided me with some good motivational music for riding up hills (I think he was fearing I'd become more insistent with my requests that he sing me a motivational song, and that he should nip that in the bud by giving me some songs from his computer to put on my iPod).
Many of the towns in this area have International names. We rode through East Palestine, Calcutta and Glasgow, and we saw signs pointing to Lisbon and Paris.
We didn’t want to make the same mistake as the previous day (ending up at a campground in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do all afternoon), so we stopped at a little dive bar several miles out from camp. We sat at the counter sipping cokes (kindly paid for by one of the bar patrons [I am on fire!]) and asked the bar tender what we should do / see in the area. She flatly informed us “there’s nothing to do around here”.
A list of banned patrons hung on the wall, and I commented that there were a lot of women on the list. I asked about what they’d done to make it on the list, and the bar tender started telling stories. Lynn slapped a girl, Deborah threw an ash tray at a man’s head, and the list of similarly appalling behaviour went on. The bar tender shook her head and said that a lot of people around there were trouble.
We didn’t spend too long at the bar and gave up on finding anything eventful to do nearby, so we headed to our stopping point for the day at the Whispering Pines Family Campground. Very happily, they did have a swimming pool, so we spent the afternoon swimming and laying in the sun.
For dinner, a delicious meal of chicken, vegetables, salad and cookies was catered at campground.
Also, another excerpt from Daria’s blog (what would I do without her?) about the nuclear power plant we passed by today…
After we crossed the Pennsylvania border, we headed east along the Ohio River and crossed over the river near the town of Midland. We rode past the two power plants that were generating the steam that I saw from Ohio. Both plants are located on the river and are operated by FirstEnergy Corp. The nuclear power plant is the Beaver Valley Power Station, which has two water reactors. The coal fired plant is the Bruce Mansfield Plant, which is FirstEnergy’s largest coal-fired power plant. They have three 800 megawatt units that burn 21,000-22,000 tons of coal per day when all three units are in operation.
Today we left behind the state of Ohio and the month of July. I am pleased about neither, as they both indicate our trip is drawing to an end. It's been such an amazing experience that I can't really imagine life where I don't wake up and ride a bicycle with my buddies each day. In fact, I can't really imagine my life at all as I'm not sure if my UK visa application will be approved and if I will be employed. I'm starting to panic about the whole business, as the end of our bicycle trip is a mere 6 days away, and I don't actually have the foggiest idea what I'm doing next in life! Perhaps it's time to start thinking about a plan B?? OR perhaps when we hit the east coast, I'll just turn right, head south, and carry on. The southern states, Mexico, Central America, and then South America should keep me occupied for a while... right? :o)
my future in law
To say that it was foggy when we left Burton would be the understatement of the year. It was so foggy, in fact, that several riders decided to wait it out rather than try and tackle the overzealous humidity.
A few notes from Daria on today...
We headed out of Burton and rode into Middlefield, one of the largest Amish communities in the world. It was a quiet Saturday morning and there wasn’t much car or buggy traffic. It was an easy day of riding today, only about 60 miles, not too hilly and no wind issues. The fog kept the temperature quite pleasant.
I rode the morning’s misty ride with Caitlin, and about 20 miles in, we stopped at a Dunkin’ Donuts for breakfast sandwich and coffee. A lady eating there saw our jerseys that have the route map on it and asked us about our trip. Once we told her what we were doing, she handed us each $5 – without provocation! Seriously… law school, here I come.
Interestingly, I have seen a lot of signs advertising on the road side that maple syrup is for sale – it’s news to me that maple syrup is produced in Ohio.
Today’s ride was pretty easy at only 60 miles, and we arrived at the campground quite early. In hind sight, we should probably have stopped at the really cute town of Columbiana that we passed through about 12 miles back.
When we got to the campground, things looked a bit shady. There was a charred building and a woman sitting in a lawn chair outside of a trailer with a beer in hand. She was the campground manager and informed us that the campground office had burned down a few weeks ago. Also, the water was out and would be for several hours. It was really hot out, and despite the area being pretty remote, Caitlin and I decided to go exploring. It was early in the afternoon, and we didn’t have anything better to do.
We went begging for shelter at a local church, and they said they’d call us back. Then we went a mile back up the road to an Amish sandwich shop, got snacks, and just hung out inside enjoying the air conditioning. We went back to the campground and more riders had arrived by then and were just lazing around waiting for the water to be turned back on.
We had pizza and salad for dinner. I had passed by a small green rubber (don’t worry, I ensured this before picking it up) snake on the road today, and couldn’t resist stopping for it. Brian had previously disclosed his extreme fear of snakes, so naturally, his was the tent in which I chose to hide the snake. He wouldn’t leave his tent, so I had to enlist James’ help to distract him. James requested a “cone of silence” (his words, not mine :o)) conversation with Brian and got him away from the tent long enough for me to hide it. We weren’t able to see his reaction immediately because I hid it in such a way that he wouldn’t see it right away – hopefully it would be more like the middle of the night when he noticed it. :o)
Oh, on a random note... seriously, this is the most exciting thing to have happened in this town since 1985? They should really get out and do a bit more in Mineral Ridge!
A few notes from Daria on today...
We headed out of Burton and rode into Middlefield, one of the largest Amish communities in the world. It was a quiet Saturday morning and there wasn’t much car or buggy traffic. It was an easy day of riding today, only about 60 miles, not too hilly and no wind issues. The fog kept the temperature quite pleasant.
I rode the morning’s misty ride with Caitlin, and about 20 miles in, we stopped at a Dunkin’ Donuts for breakfast sandwich and coffee. A lady eating there saw our jerseys that have the route map on it and asked us about our trip. Once we told her what we were doing, she handed us each $5 – without provocation! Seriously… law school, here I come.
Interestingly, I have seen a lot of signs advertising on the road side that maple syrup is for sale – it’s news to me that maple syrup is produced in Ohio.
Today’s ride was pretty easy at only 60 miles, and we arrived at the campground quite early. In hind sight, we should probably have stopped at the really cute town of Columbiana that we passed through about 12 miles back.
When we got to the campground, things looked a bit shady. There was a charred building and a woman sitting in a lawn chair outside of a trailer with a beer in hand. She was the campground manager and informed us that the campground office had burned down a few weeks ago. Also, the water was out and would be for several hours. It was really hot out, and despite the area being pretty remote, Caitlin and I decided to go exploring. It was early in the afternoon, and we didn’t have anything better to do.
We went begging for shelter at a local church, and they said they’d call us back. Then we went a mile back up the road to an Amish sandwich shop, got snacks, and just hung out inside enjoying the air conditioning. We went back to the campground and more riders had arrived by then and were just lazing around waiting for the water to be turned back on.
We had pizza and salad for dinner. I had passed by a small green rubber (don’t worry, I ensured this before picking it up) snake on the road today, and couldn’t resist stopping for it. Brian had previously disclosed his extreme fear of snakes, so naturally, his was the tent in which I chose to hide the snake. He wouldn’t leave his tent, so I had to enlist James’ help to distract him. James requested a “cone of silence” (his words, not mine :o)) conversation with Brian and got him away from the tent long enough for me to hide it. We weren’t able to see his reaction immediately because I hid it in such a way that he wouldn’t see it right away – hopefully it would be more like the middle of the night when he noticed it. :o)
Oh, on a random note... seriously, this is the most exciting thing to have happened in this town since 1985? They should really get out and do a bit more in Mineral Ridge!
break in burton
I woke up pretty early to make sure that I was downtown in time for my fingerprint appointment. As the guy took my fingerprints and asked me about my summer and I told them of my travels so far, the secretary overheard us and handed me $5 as I left. Seriously… I don’t even have to try anymore. People are just throwing money at me… I don’t know what changed!!
After my fingerprints, I went back to Brian’s house and slept for several more hours. I woke up to an amazing home-cooked breakfast and we spent much of the day just hanging out and relaxing… it was perfect. Brian’s family took several of the other bikers downtown to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but I ran errands to get my visa application ready to send off – I’d gotten a lot of stuff done, but there are still a few things I need to get in order before I can send in the application.
I drove back to Burton and left the rental car at the agreed location. Geena and I ate dinner at a diner in town that was decorated with records and license plates hanging all over the wall. It had a juke box and served burgers and the like. I then stayed at the Goodwin Bed & Breakfast with Caitlin and Geena, and it was amazing to again sleep in a bed! I have been completely spoiled on this rest day! :o)
I didn’t get to see much of Burton as I was at Brian’s family’s for much of the time, but a just a snippet about it taken from Daria’s blog:
Burton is a delightful small town with a population of 1,450. A sizable percentage of the population is Amish. The center of town features a town square patterned after the village greens of New England.
After my fingerprints, I went back to Brian’s house and slept for several more hours. I woke up to an amazing home-cooked breakfast and we spent much of the day just hanging out and relaxing… it was perfect. Brian’s family took several of the other bikers downtown to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but I ran errands to get my visa application ready to send off – I’d gotten a lot of stuff done, but there are still a few things I need to get in order before I can send in the application.
I drove back to Burton and left the rental car at the agreed location. Geena and I ate dinner at a diner in town that was decorated with records and license plates hanging all over the wall. It had a juke box and served burgers and the like. I then stayed at the Goodwin Bed & Breakfast with Caitlin and Geena, and it was amazing to again sleep in a bed! I have been completely spoiled on this rest day! :o)
I didn’t get to see much of Burton as I was at Brian’s family’s for much of the time, but a just a snippet about it taken from Daria’s blog:
Burton is a delightful small town with a population of 1,450. A sizable percentage of the population is Amish. The center of town features a town square patterned after the village greens of New England.
city riding
I have not been impressed by Ohio’s roads. Haven’t they ever heard of shoulders? Haven’t they ever heard of repairing potholes? Shirley Franklin, a mayoral candidate in Atlanta, ran on the platform that she’d go out and personally fix a pot hole if it was reported and left unrepaired – and she won! She’s no longer the mayor in Atlanta, but I think that she may have a bright political future ahead of her in Ohio if she takes a similar approach.
It rained throughout the morning as I rode along with Kasey, Brandon, and Geena eastward along the southern bank of Lake Erie.
There was one bridge that was slippery in particular and had a tricky expansion joint at an angle that managed to catch Brian’s and Kat’s front wheels, and they both took a tumble on the bridge.
Our first rest stop of the day was near a cute farmer’s market / grocers / bakery and several of the bicyclers pooled their money together to buy boxes of pastries that, when paired with a cup of (free!) coffee the market provided, made for an excellent second breakfast.
Throughout the trip, I’ve kind of been hoping that someone would be waiting along the roadside with signs and pom poms cheering for us. Marathoners get these things, and I’ve been quite jealous. I mean, I don’t want it all day, every day, but I’ve been thinking that it would be nice to have just once throughout this trip. Unbeknownst to me, today would be that day! Brian’s family lives in a suburb of Cleveland, so as we rode into Cleveland today, they came out and waited in lawn chairs alongside the road for us with noisemakers, pom poms, posters. As we biked by, they yelled and cheered like we were great heroes and gave us Gatorade and energy bars. It was glorious and everything I imagined it would be. :o)
Thankfully we went into Cleveland in high spirits because the ride through Cleveland was certainly deflating. It was the first major city we’d cycled through on the trip, and it was less than fun. It seems the Cleveland drivers aren’t that keen on bicyclers because – though no driver has honked / yelled at me on the trip thus far, four separate drivers yelled at me in Cleveland. Somehow, I think that our route through Cleveland did not showcase its finest side. Also, I think that I focused all of my energy on avoiding potholes, not getting run over, and trying to avoid getting hit by the many cars, that I had no brain power left to sort out my directions, so I was perpetually lost in Cleveland.
Many of the riders have demonstrated their excellent powers of persuasion throughout the trip. People will be hand them donations for the American Lung Association right and left. They’ll go out for coffee and come back having not spent a dime. Jessica even managed to flag down the Schwann ice cream truck (that delivers to grocery stores) and convinced the driver to give her ice cream off the truck! I, however, have been a ridiculous failure at talking anyone into anything. I'll smile, tell someone what we’re up to, imply that charity would be appreciated, (and occasionally even throw in a bat of the eyelashes when appropriate), and hope for the best – and then sigh as they roll their eyes and charge me the full amount.
I had more or less given up on ever successfully persuading anyone to do anything, but today I just had to give it a try. The last barrier that stood between me and submitting my UK work visa application is getting my fingerprints taken. Though you’d imagine this could be done at any police station, the UK Border Agency is quite picky and only has a limited number of (very busy) pre-approved centres for this task. The only location within three states that had an open appointment tomorrow (our rest day) was in Buffalo, New York. It was over three hours away by car, which meant that I’d have to rent a car and spend seven hours on my very treasured rest day driving about –- a less than exciting prospect. However, there was an authorized fingerprinting centre right in Cleveland, near where we were staying on our rest day. Unfortunately, they were completely booked. Our route took us right by the building, and it just seemed silly to not stop by and ask if they could squeeze me in.
I worked on my speech all morning. I consulted the best beggars of the group and asked for advice. By the time I cycled by the Federal Building in downtown Cleveland, I felt I was as ready as I was going to be for my biggest begging test yet. I did have the tiny problem that I’d failed to bring a decent lock, and didn’t feel great about leaving my bike locked with my dinky little lock in downtown Cleveland. So I walked into the building with my bike hoping that I’d be able to keep it with me or lean it in the hall while I asked about getting fingerprinted, and saw at once that it was one of those high security types of places with guards, a bag scanner, and metal detectors. I knew straight away that I wouldn’t be going anywhere with my bicycle, but before I could even turn around to take it back outside, a guard was already barking at me that bicycles couldn’t be inside the building. I cringed at the thought of leaving my beloved bicycle (who has been my faithful and constant companion these many hours throughout the summer) unattended with only a wee little lock to protect him from the cold, cruel world of Cleveland (can you tell I didn’t really like it there? :o)); however, I knew that it was a risk I must take. So I locked my bicycle up to some bike racks just outside the building and turned back in.
I must have looked distressed, fearful, and grumpy (and I was all three) because the security guard asked me if I was OK. I told him I was and made my way to the fingerprinting centre. I took Geena’s advice (Geena is one of the more skilled beggars), smiled, made eye contact with the lady at reception, and presented my request. She made some calls and said that they could fit me in if I came just before 8 am tomorrow. I gasped and looked around me. Surely she wasn’t talking to me. Surely I had not just successfully persuaded someone to do something… especially not something like this. The government-y types and all of their rules and rigamarole – I didn’t actually expect them to budge! But it seems to have indeed occurred, and I practically skipped out of the place. On my way out of the building, I thanked the security guard for asking about me and told him my day had just gotten a lot better, and said sorry that I’d been grumpy.
I was hoping that this elation would be enough to propel me through the remainder of my ride through Cleveland, but the second half of my journey through Cleveland was the same as my first half -- miserable! I ran into Eric (despite being a very fast rider, he somehow seems to always manage to end up at the rear of the pack -- I asked him about it, and at least part of the explanation is that he sometimes pulls over on the side of the road for naps (?!)) and we rode the rest of the way together, but talking with someone seemed to be too much for my already addled mind. Any time I talked, I missed a turn / made us lost again. We tried one approach where one of us would talk while the other would be in charge of directions. Seems like it would work, right? It didn’t. In particular, there was one really big hill that we went down, and we realized only when we’d reached the bottom that we had missed a turn at the top of the hill. Before we both started crying at the thought of going all the way back up, I consulted the map on my phone and realized we could get back on course without having to trek back up the massive hill. Phew, major crisis averted. I think we were both so tired, burnt out, and ready for a rest day at that point, laying down on the side of the road and hoping for rescue would have been more preferable than going back up that hill.
At long, long last we made it outside of Cleveland and now all that stood between us and our rest day in Burton, Ohio was 20 miles. The rest of Ohio had been flat, so I assumed that it would be a flat 20 miles. That was a mistake. It was up and down and up and down and up and down again through the rolling hills of eastern Ohio that heralded our approach to the Appalachian mountain range. We weren’t moving along as quickly as we’d hoped, and I started to realize that it didn’t look like I was going to make it to Burton before the rental car store closed. And if I didn’t get the rental car that night, I wouldn’t be able to make it to my (miraculously achieved) 8 am fingerprinting appointment in Cleveland. I called the guy from Enterprise from my bike, and begged – for the second time that day – for him to wait for me. He said “It sounds really windy…” and it opened up the door for me to explain that I was calling from my bike (I may have mentioned that I was biking across America for charity) and was pedalling my hardest to get to him as quickly as possible. It seems that was just the right card to play, because not only did he say he’d stay open a bit late, he said that he would come and pick me up from our campsite!! Man, I am really on a roll with this begging business – I believe I may have a great future in law ahead of me. :o)
Josh from Enterprise was waiting at the campground in Burton when I arrived, and on the journey back to Enterprise, we managed to swap life stories. He was your classic middle American fellow -- young, had taken over the family business, married his high school sweetheart, and they were expecting their first child. He also very kindly gave me his own personal GPS (which normally you have to pay for), and told me to just leave it at the campground when we left to save me having to return it and he’d come and get it later. Greatest customer service experience ever! If you’re ever in Chardon, Ohio and find yourself in need of a rental car, I’d highly recommend the Enterprise there. And ask for Josh.
One of the riders, Brian, invited all of the younger bicyclers to stay over at his family's house nearby. I went back to the campground in my shiny blue Ford Focus to pick up my bags and Eric, who was going to ride over to Brian’s with me.
Prior to receiving Brian’s invitation to stay over, Caitlin and Geena had booked a room in a bed & breakfast nearby (it was our first rest day in a campground, and no one was so keen on the idea of spending a whole day sitting around in the sun). However, they were now trying to get out of the bed & breakfast so they could come over to Brian’s instead. I drove over to the B&B where Caitlin was standing outside looking quite distressed. Geena went inside to try and talk the lady at the B&B into letting them out of that night’s reservation while still keeping the next night’s reservation – a tricky matter indeed. Caitlin looked really upset, and I wasn’t sure what to do – I am a failure at situations where someone is upset and I’m supposed to be comforting. After debating for a moment what to do, I decided to go and talk to her and see if she’s okay. As I walked up, she grabbed me and threw her head on my shoulder. I hugged her back and racked my mind for something appropriately comforting to say. She started to shake and I was quite distressed that the situation was going from bad to worse -- I didn’t know what to do when she was sad, and I certainly didn’t know what to do now that she was crying! But then I heard a snicker and realized that the shaking was due to laughing, not crying. She said “Be still and pretend to comfort me – Geena’s inside telling the lady that I’m having a family emergency that requires us to stay somewhere else tonight, so I have to look really sad.” Thank goodness that I wasn’t facing the inside of the house where the b&b owner couldn’t see me because I just started cracking up and would have completely given away their ruse. I stood there hugging and pretending to comfort Caitlin until Geena came out, with mission accomplished, and we all got in the car and drove away laughing hysterically.
An hour later, we’d arrived in Columbus Heights, Ohio at Brian’s childhood home. His family was so hospitable and amazing! They grilled out and made us an amazing dinner, bought us drinks, let us take showers (with real towels!!) there, blew up air mattresses for us to sleep on, and let us do laundry there. And we got to be in a real house, play with real dogs, and they made a fire in the fire pit in the backyard and we sat around and roasted marshmallows. It was GLORIOUS!
We’d made it through our longest stretch without a break -- 7 days – and the amazing night at the Strahine’s made it all worthwhile.
It rained throughout the morning as I rode along with Kasey, Brandon, and Geena eastward along the southern bank of Lake Erie.
There was one bridge that was slippery in particular and had a tricky expansion joint at an angle that managed to catch Brian’s and Kat’s front wheels, and they both took a tumble on the bridge.
Our first rest stop of the day was near a cute farmer’s market / grocers / bakery and several of the bicyclers pooled their money together to buy boxes of pastries that, when paired with a cup of (free!) coffee the market provided, made for an excellent second breakfast.
Throughout the trip, I’ve kind of been hoping that someone would be waiting along the roadside with signs and pom poms cheering for us. Marathoners get these things, and I’ve been quite jealous. I mean, I don’t want it all day, every day, but I’ve been thinking that it would be nice to have just once throughout this trip. Unbeknownst to me, today would be that day! Brian’s family lives in a suburb of Cleveland, so as we rode into Cleveland today, they came out and waited in lawn chairs alongside the road for us with noisemakers, pom poms, posters. As we biked by, they yelled and cheered like we were great heroes and gave us Gatorade and energy bars. It was glorious and everything I imagined it would be. :o)
Thankfully we went into Cleveland in high spirits because the ride through Cleveland was certainly deflating. It was the first major city we’d cycled through on the trip, and it was less than fun. It seems the Cleveland drivers aren’t that keen on bicyclers because – though no driver has honked / yelled at me on the trip thus far, four separate drivers yelled at me in Cleveland. Somehow, I think that our route through Cleveland did not showcase its finest side. Also, I think that I focused all of my energy on avoiding potholes, not getting run over, and trying to avoid getting hit by the many cars, that I had no brain power left to sort out my directions, so I was perpetually lost in Cleveland.
Many of the riders have demonstrated their excellent powers of persuasion throughout the trip. People will be hand them donations for the American Lung Association right and left. They’ll go out for coffee and come back having not spent a dime. Jessica even managed to flag down the Schwann ice cream truck (that delivers to grocery stores) and convinced the driver to give her ice cream off the truck! I, however, have been a ridiculous failure at talking anyone into anything. I'll smile, tell someone what we’re up to, imply that charity would be appreciated, (and occasionally even throw in a bat of the eyelashes when appropriate), and hope for the best – and then sigh as they roll their eyes and charge me the full amount.
I had more or less given up on ever successfully persuading anyone to do anything, but today I just had to give it a try. The last barrier that stood between me and submitting my UK work visa application is getting my fingerprints taken. Though you’d imagine this could be done at any police station, the UK Border Agency is quite picky and only has a limited number of (very busy) pre-approved centres for this task. The only location within three states that had an open appointment tomorrow (our rest day) was in Buffalo, New York. It was over three hours away by car, which meant that I’d have to rent a car and spend seven hours on my very treasured rest day driving about –- a less than exciting prospect. However, there was an authorized fingerprinting centre right in Cleveland, near where we were staying on our rest day. Unfortunately, they were completely booked. Our route took us right by the building, and it just seemed silly to not stop by and ask if they could squeeze me in.
I worked on my speech all morning. I consulted the best beggars of the group and asked for advice. By the time I cycled by the Federal Building in downtown Cleveland, I felt I was as ready as I was going to be for my biggest begging test yet. I did have the tiny problem that I’d failed to bring a decent lock, and didn’t feel great about leaving my bike locked with my dinky little lock in downtown Cleveland. So I walked into the building with my bike hoping that I’d be able to keep it with me or lean it in the hall while I asked about getting fingerprinted, and saw at once that it was one of those high security types of places with guards, a bag scanner, and metal detectors. I knew straight away that I wouldn’t be going anywhere with my bicycle, but before I could even turn around to take it back outside, a guard was already barking at me that bicycles couldn’t be inside the building. I cringed at the thought of leaving my beloved bicycle (who has been my faithful and constant companion these many hours throughout the summer) unattended with only a wee little lock to protect him from the cold, cruel world of Cleveland (can you tell I didn’t really like it there? :o)); however, I knew that it was a risk I must take. So I locked my bicycle up to some bike racks just outside the building and turned back in.
I must have looked distressed, fearful, and grumpy (and I was all three) because the security guard asked me if I was OK. I told him I was and made my way to the fingerprinting centre. I took Geena’s advice (Geena is one of the more skilled beggars), smiled, made eye contact with the lady at reception, and presented my request. She made some calls and said that they could fit me in if I came just before 8 am tomorrow. I gasped and looked around me. Surely she wasn’t talking to me. Surely I had not just successfully persuaded someone to do something… especially not something like this. The government-y types and all of their rules and rigamarole – I didn’t actually expect them to budge! But it seems to have indeed occurred, and I practically skipped out of the place. On my way out of the building, I thanked the security guard for asking about me and told him my day had just gotten a lot better, and said sorry that I’d been grumpy.
I was hoping that this elation would be enough to propel me through the remainder of my ride through Cleveland, but the second half of my journey through Cleveland was the same as my first half -- miserable! I ran into Eric (despite being a very fast rider, he somehow seems to always manage to end up at the rear of the pack -- I asked him about it, and at least part of the explanation is that he sometimes pulls over on the side of the road for naps (?!)) and we rode the rest of the way together, but talking with someone seemed to be too much for my already addled mind. Any time I talked, I missed a turn / made us lost again. We tried one approach where one of us would talk while the other would be in charge of directions. Seems like it would work, right? It didn’t. In particular, there was one really big hill that we went down, and we realized only when we’d reached the bottom that we had missed a turn at the top of the hill. Before we both started crying at the thought of going all the way back up, I consulted the map on my phone and realized we could get back on course without having to trek back up the massive hill. Phew, major crisis averted. I think we were both so tired, burnt out, and ready for a rest day at that point, laying down on the side of the road and hoping for rescue would have been more preferable than going back up that hill.
At long, long last we made it outside of Cleveland and now all that stood between us and our rest day in Burton, Ohio was 20 miles. The rest of Ohio had been flat, so I assumed that it would be a flat 20 miles. That was a mistake. It was up and down and up and down and up and down again through the rolling hills of eastern Ohio that heralded our approach to the Appalachian mountain range. We weren’t moving along as quickly as we’d hoped, and I started to realize that it didn’t look like I was going to make it to Burton before the rental car store closed. And if I didn’t get the rental car that night, I wouldn’t be able to make it to my (miraculously achieved) 8 am fingerprinting appointment in Cleveland. I called the guy from Enterprise from my bike, and begged – for the second time that day – for him to wait for me. He said “It sounds really windy…” and it opened up the door for me to explain that I was calling from my bike (I may have mentioned that I was biking across America for charity) and was pedalling my hardest to get to him as quickly as possible. It seems that was just the right card to play, because not only did he say he’d stay open a bit late, he said that he would come and pick me up from our campsite!! Man, I am really on a roll with this begging business – I believe I may have a great future in law ahead of me. :o)
Josh from Enterprise was waiting at the campground in Burton when I arrived, and on the journey back to Enterprise, we managed to swap life stories. He was your classic middle American fellow -- young, had taken over the family business, married his high school sweetheart, and they were expecting their first child. He also very kindly gave me his own personal GPS (which normally you have to pay for), and told me to just leave it at the campground when we left to save me having to return it and he’d come and get it later. Greatest customer service experience ever! If you’re ever in Chardon, Ohio and find yourself in need of a rental car, I’d highly recommend the Enterprise there. And ask for Josh.
One of the riders, Brian, invited all of the younger bicyclers to stay over at his family's house nearby. I went back to the campground in my shiny blue Ford Focus to pick up my bags and Eric, who was going to ride over to Brian’s with me.
Prior to receiving Brian’s invitation to stay over, Caitlin and Geena had booked a room in a bed & breakfast nearby (it was our first rest day in a campground, and no one was so keen on the idea of spending a whole day sitting around in the sun). However, they were now trying to get out of the bed & breakfast so they could come over to Brian’s instead. I drove over to the B&B where Caitlin was standing outside looking quite distressed. Geena went inside to try and talk the lady at the B&B into letting them out of that night’s reservation while still keeping the next night’s reservation – a tricky matter indeed. Caitlin looked really upset, and I wasn’t sure what to do – I am a failure at situations where someone is upset and I’m supposed to be comforting. After debating for a moment what to do, I decided to go and talk to her and see if she’s okay. As I walked up, she grabbed me and threw her head on my shoulder. I hugged her back and racked my mind for something appropriately comforting to say. She started to shake and I was quite distressed that the situation was going from bad to worse -- I didn’t know what to do when she was sad, and I certainly didn’t know what to do now that she was crying! But then I heard a snicker and realized that the shaking was due to laughing, not crying. She said “Be still and pretend to comfort me – Geena’s inside telling the lady that I’m having a family emergency that requires us to stay somewhere else tonight, so I have to look really sad.” Thank goodness that I wasn’t facing the inside of the house where the b&b owner couldn’t see me because I just started cracking up and would have completely given away their ruse. I stood there hugging and pretending to comfort Caitlin until Geena came out, with mission accomplished, and we all got in the car and drove away laughing hysterically.
An hour later, we’d arrived in Columbus Heights, Ohio at Brian’s childhood home. His family was so hospitable and amazing! They grilled out and made us an amazing dinner, bought us drinks, let us take showers (with real towels!!) there, blew up air mattresses for us to sleep on, and let us do laundry there. And we got to be in a real house, play with real dogs, and they made a fire in the fire pit in the backyard and we sat around and roasted marshmallows. It was GLORIOUS!
We’d made it through our longest stretch without a break -- 7 days – and the amazing night at the Strahine’s made it all worthwhile.
(roller) coasting
Today's ride was 90 miles to from Napoleon, Ohio to Sandusky, Ohio. Perhaps not surprisingly, we rode through more farmland.
When I got into Bowling Green at mile 25, I rode by a place called Grounds for Thought, a combo coffee shop and bookstore. I knew our first rest stop was just down the road, but there were several bikes parked outside, and I decided to stop there as well for a second cup of coffee and a bite to eat. Normally, we stop for breaks and snacks in small groups, but somehow we all managed to end up at Grounds for Thought and had a nice little rest there.
I rode for most of the day with Kathleen and Caitlin and had all sorts of good conversations. We stopped at a gas station for a drink, and a man in the parking lot asked about all the bicyclers he'd seen coming by and what we were all up to. After we told him, he went back to his truck and brought back a bag of kettle corn. Apparently, he was Papa of Nana & Papa's Kettle Corn. We waited until we got to Sandusky to get into it, but once we opened it, it was gone in no time flat -- it was absolutely amazing! If you're ever passing through Ohio, I'd definitely recommend seeking it out.
Later in the afternoon, I saw the sign below and thought "Well, you had me at 'ice cream'... but smiling's nice too." :o)
We went along pretty speedily through the afternoon as we had our sights set on Cedar Point, the massive amusement and roller coaster park located in Sandusky. I grew up going to Six Flags in Georgia, but Cedar Point puts Six Flags to shame. We were staying at the KOA Bayshore campground in Sandusky and shortly upon arriving discovered that we could rent these little (air conditioned!) cabins at the campground for only $16 -- and they sleep four! At $4 each, this was a no-brainer, so Kathleen, Geena, Caitlin, and I shared a cabin for the evening.
We then hopped on a shuttle to Cedar Point, and were able to get discounted "starlight" tickets which are available after 5 pm. We started with the Millennium Force, one of their biggest roller coasters, and waited in line for eons. But it was amazing and definitely worth it. I think Kathleen may not have agreed with me. I looked over during it, and her face was literally green (previously, I thought this only happened in cartoons, but that turns out not to be the case!).
After dinner, we found a Chick-fil-A, and I ate it for the first time since arriving back in America. Every bite was as glorious as I remembered. Even Brian, who's usually a vegetarian, understood that Chick-fil-A was worth splurging for. We didn't stay too long at Cedar Point -- though definitely long enough to partake in a funnel cake -- and headed back to our lovely air conditioned cabin for an amazingly restful night's sleep.
When I got into Bowling Green at mile 25, I rode by a place called Grounds for Thought, a combo coffee shop and bookstore. I knew our first rest stop was just down the road, but there were several bikes parked outside, and I decided to stop there as well for a second cup of coffee and a bite to eat. Normally, we stop for breaks and snacks in small groups, but somehow we all managed to end up at Grounds for Thought and had a nice little rest there.
I rode for most of the day with Kathleen and Caitlin and had all sorts of good conversations. We stopped at a gas station for a drink, and a man in the parking lot asked about all the bicyclers he'd seen coming by and what we were all up to. After we told him, he went back to his truck and brought back a bag of kettle corn. Apparently, he was Papa of Nana & Papa's Kettle Corn. We waited until we got to Sandusky to get into it, but once we opened it, it was gone in no time flat -- it was absolutely amazing! If you're ever passing through Ohio, I'd definitely recommend seeking it out.
Later in the afternoon, I saw the sign below and thought "Well, you had me at 'ice cream'... but smiling's nice too." :o)
We went along pretty speedily through the afternoon as we had our sights set on Cedar Point, the massive amusement and roller coaster park located in Sandusky. I grew up going to Six Flags in Georgia, but Cedar Point puts Six Flags to shame. We were staying at the KOA Bayshore campground in Sandusky and shortly upon arriving discovered that we could rent these little (air conditioned!) cabins at the campground for only $16 -- and they sleep four! At $4 each, this was a no-brainer, so Kathleen, Geena, Caitlin, and I shared a cabin for the evening.
We then hopped on a shuttle to Cedar Point, and were able to get discounted "starlight" tickets which are available after 5 pm. We started with the Millennium Force, one of their biggest roller coasters, and waited in line for eons. But it was amazing and definitely worth it. I think Kathleen may not have agreed with me. I looked over during it, and her face was literally green (previously, I thought this only happened in cartoons, but that turns out not to be the case!).
After dinner, we found a Chick-fil-A, and I ate it for the first time since arriving back in America. Every bite was as glorious as I remembered. Even Brian, who's usually a vegetarian, understood that Chick-fil-A was worth splurging for. We didn't stay too long at Cedar Point -- though definitely long enough to partake in a funnel cake -- and headed back to our lovely air conditioned cabin for an amazingly restful night's sleep.
the flattest section of the big ride after the first 35 miles of small rollers
That's how today's ride was described on our cue sheet. Today's ride was just 70 miles in total, so if 35 of them are rolling hills, well call me crazy, but calling today the flattest day seems a bit of a misnomer.
The Park Association provided us with a breakfast of pancakes, sausage, and coffee. And the cue sheet was right -- the first 35 miles of today's ride were up and down and up and down. It wasn't so bad though, and we made it to lunch by 10:30. The last 35 miles went by quickly as I sped through them with Jim and Eric, playing guessing games all the while.
During today's ride, we left Indiana and entered Ohio, but the scenery -- soy bean and corn farms -- stayed about the same. We arrived in our destination for the day -- Napoleon, Ohio -- by noon and weren't particularly sure what to do with ourselves. We spent a bit of time at the library using the computers, and I filled out some of the forms I need for my UK work visa application.
We hung out at the camp ground most of the afternoon, and I happily managed to set up my tent under a shelter, so if I didn't have to bother with the miserable rain fly. Now this is my kind of camping. :o)
An older local man, Carl, came over to chat and informed us that we were currently located in the flattest county in Ohio, and he seemed to be quite proud of the fact. (Everyone's got to have some claim to fame, right?) Carl was born in Napoleon, Ohio and has lived here for all of his life.
Dinner was catered at camp, and was a southern classic -– fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, rolls, scalloped potatoes, green beans, lemonade, and strawberry short cake. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. :o)
I took advantage of the short riding day to get some extra sleep and go to bed early. While today wasn't difficult, we're in the midst of a seven-day stretch without a rest day, which is enough to make a body tired!
The Park Association provided us with a breakfast of pancakes, sausage, and coffee. And the cue sheet was right -- the first 35 miles of today's ride were up and down and up and down. It wasn't so bad though, and we made it to lunch by 10:30. The last 35 miles went by quickly as I sped through them with Jim and Eric, playing guessing games all the while.
During today's ride, we left Indiana and entered Ohio, but the scenery -- soy bean and corn farms -- stayed about the same. We arrived in our destination for the day -- Napoleon, Ohio -- by noon and weren't particularly sure what to do with ourselves. We spent a bit of time at the library using the computers, and I filled out some of the forms I need for my UK work visa application.
We hung out at the camp ground most of the afternoon, and I happily managed to set up my tent under a shelter, so if I didn't have to bother with the miserable rain fly. Now this is my kind of camping. :o)
An older local man, Carl, came over to chat and informed us that we were currently located in the flattest county in Ohio, and he seemed to be quite proud of the fact. (Everyone's got to have some claim to fame, right?) Carl was born in Napoleon, Ohio and has lived here for all of his life.
Dinner was catered at camp, and was a southern classic -– fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, rolls, scalloped potatoes, green beans, lemonade, and strawberry short cake. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. :o)
I took advantage of the short riding day to get some extra sleep and go to bed early. While today wasn't difficult, we're in the midst of a seven-day stretch without a rest day, which is enough to make a body tired!
zigging and zagging
We had a buffet style breakfast at the Valparaiso University Cafeteria, and it requires all of my willpower not to dive in to the pans of food and eat a whole lot. If I were to give in to this temptation, I'd have a seriously difficult time bicycling, so I try to keep breakfasts pretty small so I won't be too full to bike. On days with hot breakfasts like this, it's very difficult though!
Due to the way we had to build up the outside of my right cycling shoe so that my legs would be the same length, it's rather difficult to actually walk in that shoes. So I usually carry my flip flops with me to walk in and put on my cycling shoes only when I'm getting on the bike. So, as per usual, I went to breakfast in my flip flops and carried my socks and cycling shoes to breakfast with me. After breakfast when I went to put on my cycling shoes, I realized that I had somehow lost a sock on the way to breakfast. I cycled back along the path between the dorm and cafeteria in search of it, but to no avail. So I cycled the day looking like a complete goofball with just a single sock on.
Today was our second longest day at 109 miles, but it actually wasn't all that bad. Somewhere along the line here, things have gone from really difficult -- I would wake up each day pondering if I'd live to see the end of it -- to really amazing -- I now wake up each day looking forward to another adventure, day of cycling, and hanging out with my new found friends. It's been an amazing trip, and it's starting to dawn on me that it's not too long before it all ends. Perhaps if I don't think about that, it won't actually end? Denial is at least worth a try, right?
Today I rode with Kenny and Kathleen for most of the day, and we had a lot of fun. In the morning, we rode along through the sunny Indiana country side singing songs and telling our favorite jokes. I think my favorite was one that Kenny told...
Q: What's a pig's favorite karate move?
A: Pork chop
... which obviously isn't that funny on its own, but it was the way Kenny told it --like it was the most funny thing in the world, and the karate chop hand motion he managed to pull off while on his bike, and how hard he laughed about it -- that made it hilarious. It was one of those jokes where you weren't sure if you were laughing at the joke, or at the one telling the joke, but you just knew that you were laughing.
We also observed a new feature on our cue sheet today -- an upcoming "zig zag". Really it was just a few bends in the road, but we spotted it at mile 69.9 on the cue sheet, and eagerly anticipated it throughout the day. When we got there, we threw our hands in the air (ok, those of us who were capable of riding without hands -- I decline to state whether present company is capable) and screamed as we rode along the zig zag, like we were riding the world's fastest roller coaster. Much to our delight, there was also a zig zag at mile 77.4, and we repeated the same procedure.
We road through more farm land today (again, mostly soy beans and corn from what I can tell), and it made for a beautiful ride. We also passed through several other Amish and Mennonite communities, and we decided that on the scale of exciting things in our lives, getting the Amish riding by in carriages to wave is more exciting than getting a train to honk. The buggies move along fairly slowly, about 10 miles an hour, and we're able to pass by them, which is always a nice ego boost. :o) Interestingly, the buggies do have license plates.
Today we passed a road called Smilax, which naturally struck me as a combination of the words "smile" and "relax". I've decided smilaxing is my new life philosophy. :o) <-- That only encompasses the half of it, I'll have to think on what a relaxing smiley face would look like!
A few hours after lunch, we stopped at the Charlie’s Sweet Corn food stand by the side of the road and had a snack of blueberries there. We met an interesting character who worked there, a little old man, who started telling us about how America had, in fact, lost the war with England in the American revolution. The way he tells it, England was fighting to get rid of America, but we didn't want to take it. America lost, so the Americans over here had to keep it. I suppose that is one interpretation of those events... I got the feeling this fellow had an interesting interpretation of a lot of things.
About 12 miles out from our final destination for the day, we spotted the Humpty Dumpty Ice Cream Parlour in Wolcottville, Indiana. There simply was no resisting. Brian, Kat, Daria, and I sat around for a good amount of time, sampling quite a few of their of their many ice cream flavors. The sign they had on the wall raises a good point...
As we rode into Kendallville, I stopped at a drug store because I had an idea. I've been feeling quite masculine lately -- I spit, I eat bugs, I wee in the woods, I sweat all day, and I generally smell like a rotten fish. This summer, I am, for all intents and purposes, a boy. So, in a fit of feminine rebellion, I decided to buy red fingernail polish. I can't do much about all of the manly behavior, but I figured the least I could do is continue to do all those things while having red fingernails. When we got into camp, I painted my fingernails and toenails red, and I think I must have been on to something, because six other girls on the trip came up and asked if they could borrow it to paint their nails too. By the end of the night, there were six of us running around with painted nails. I'm feeling much better about myself now. :o)
We crossed into our final time zone, the Eastern time zone, today which means that we lost an hour. We camped at the Bixler Lake Park in Kendallville, and the Park Association provided a dinner of BBQ pork sandwiches with all the fixins'. It hasn't been too hot at nights lately, which has made for comfortable camping and restful nights.
Also, a few more excerpts from Daria's blog (she did so much great research and documentation that I'm snagging a bit [with permission of course :o)]) about today's ride...
Apparently, Indiana has an interesting history regarding its time zones. Although the Standard Time Act placed Indiana in the Central time zone in 1918, there have been disputes about what was considered the “official time” within the state since then. Currently, the state is split into two time zones, with the both the far northeastern corner (where we started our day) and the southeastern corner in the Central time zone. The rest of the state is in the Eastern time zone.
The Interstate Commerce Commission divided Indiana between the Eastern and Central time zones in 1961, but the time zone line has not been consistently observed. The state’s counties varied in observing different time zones in the 1960s and 1970s. In January 2006, the US Department of Transportation announced a rule that changed the clock for eight of 17 Indiana counties seeking to move to the Central Standard Time. Five of those counties returned to the Eastern time zone in November 2007. At that point, 80 of Indiana's 92 counties were in the Eastern time zone, while the other 12 were in the Central time zone. However, a bill was approved by the Indiana House committee in January 2008 for a referendum to allow residents of any county located near the Eastern-Central boundary to vote the time they wanted to observe. It is likely that the Indiana time zone issues will continue in the future. Many argue that the entire state should move to the Central time zone. I would vote for that today as riding 110 miles and losing an hour makes for a very long day.
I rode by a field of Longhorn cattle, not something I expected to see in Indiana. Apparently, they have been there for quite a while, over 150 years, so they are clearly there to stay. It was the home of Plainview Longhorns, a family-owned and operated forage producer and cattle breeder with an unmatched reputation for providing the highest quality, dry hay products and breeding cattle to the best bulls in the industry. They are a high-profile name in the agriculture community for their commitment to the production of organic hay products, and in the cattle industry for top-quality beef. They have also been featured in the Smithsonian Magazine as a Century Farm.
Due to the way we had to build up the outside of my right cycling shoe so that my legs would be the same length, it's rather difficult to actually walk in that shoes. So I usually carry my flip flops with me to walk in and put on my cycling shoes only when I'm getting on the bike. So, as per usual, I went to breakfast in my flip flops and carried my socks and cycling shoes to breakfast with me. After breakfast when I went to put on my cycling shoes, I realized that I had somehow lost a sock on the way to breakfast. I cycled back along the path between the dorm and cafeteria in search of it, but to no avail. So I cycled the day looking like a complete goofball with just a single sock on.
Today was our second longest day at 109 miles, but it actually wasn't all that bad. Somewhere along the line here, things have gone from really difficult -- I would wake up each day pondering if I'd live to see the end of it -- to really amazing -- I now wake up each day looking forward to another adventure, day of cycling, and hanging out with my new found friends. It's been an amazing trip, and it's starting to dawn on me that it's not too long before it all ends. Perhaps if I don't think about that, it won't actually end? Denial is at least worth a try, right?
Today I rode with Kenny and Kathleen for most of the day, and we had a lot of fun. In the morning, we rode along through the sunny Indiana country side singing songs and telling our favorite jokes. I think my favorite was one that Kenny told...
Q: What's a pig's favorite karate move?
A: Pork chop
... which obviously isn't that funny on its own, but it was the way Kenny told it --like it was the most funny thing in the world, and the karate chop hand motion he managed to pull off while on his bike, and how hard he laughed about it -- that made it hilarious. It was one of those jokes where you weren't sure if you were laughing at the joke, or at the one telling the joke, but you just knew that you were laughing.
We also observed a new feature on our cue sheet today -- an upcoming "zig zag". Really it was just a few bends in the road, but we spotted it at mile 69.9 on the cue sheet, and eagerly anticipated it throughout the day. When we got there, we threw our hands in the air (ok, those of us who were capable of riding without hands -- I decline to state whether present company is capable) and screamed as we rode along the zig zag, like we were riding the world's fastest roller coaster. Much to our delight, there was also a zig zag at mile 77.4, and we repeated the same procedure.
We road through more farm land today (again, mostly soy beans and corn from what I can tell), and it made for a beautiful ride. We also passed through several other Amish and Mennonite communities, and we decided that on the scale of exciting things in our lives, getting the Amish riding by in carriages to wave is more exciting than getting a train to honk. The buggies move along fairly slowly, about 10 miles an hour, and we're able to pass by them, which is always a nice ego boost. :o) Interestingly, the buggies do have license plates.
Today we passed a road called Smilax, which naturally struck me as a combination of the words "smile" and "relax". I've decided smilaxing is my new life philosophy. :o) <-- That only encompasses the half of it, I'll have to think on what a relaxing smiley face would look like!
A few hours after lunch, we stopped at the Charlie’s Sweet Corn food stand by the side of the road and had a snack of blueberries there. We met an interesting character who worked there, a little old man, who started telling us about how America had, in fact, lost the war with England in the American revolution. The way he tells it, England was fighting to get rid of America, but we didn't want to take it. America lost, so the Americans over here had to keep it. I suppose that is one interpretation of those events... I got the feeling this fellow had an interesting interpretation of a lot of things.
About 12 miles out from our final destination for the day, we spotted the Humpty Dumpty Ice Cream Parlour in Wolcottville, Indiana. There simply was no resisting. Brian, Kat, Daria, and I sat around for a good amount of time, sampling quite a few of their of their many ice cream flavors. The sign they had on the wall raises a good point...
As we rode into Kendallville, I stopped at a drug store because I had an idea. I've been feeling quite masculine lately -- I spit, I eat bugs, I wee in the woods, I sweat all day, and I generally smell like a rotten fish. This summer, I am, for all intents and purposes, a boy. So, in a fit of feminine rebellion, I decided to buy red fingernail polish. I can't do much about all of the manly behavior, but I figured the least I could do is continue to do all those things while having red fingernails. When we got into camp, I painted my fingernails and toenails red, and I think I must have been on to something, because six other girls on the trip came up and asked if they could borrow it to paint their nails too. By the end of the night, there were six of us running around with painted nails. I'm feeling much better about myself now. :o)
We crossed into our final time zone, the Eastern time zone, today which means that we lost an hour. We camped at the Bixler Lake Park in Kendallville, and the Park Association provided a dinner of BBQ pork sandwiches with all the fixins'. It hasn't been too hot at nights lately, which has made for comfortable camping and restful nights.
Also, a few more excerpts from Daria's blog (she did so much great research and documentation that I'm snagging a bit [with permission of course :o)]) about today's ride...
Apparently, Indiana has an interesting history regarding its time zones. Although the Standard Time Act placed Indiana in the Central time zone in 1918, there have been disputes about what was considered the “official time” within the state since then. Currently, the state is split into two time zones, with the both the far northeastern corner (where we started our day) and the southeastern corner in the Central time zone. The rest of the state is in the Eastern time zone.
The Interstate Commerce Commission divided Indiana between the Eastern and Central time zones in 1961, but the time zone line has not been consistently observed. The state’s counties varied in observing different time zones in the 1960s and 1970s. In January 2006, the US Department of Transportation announced a rule that changed the clock for eight of 17 Indiana counties seeking to move to the Central Standard Time. Five of those counties returned to the Eastern time zone in November 2007. At that point, 80 of Indiana's 92 counties were in the Eastern time zone, while the other 12 were in the Central time zone. However, a bill was approved by the Indiana House committee in January 2008 for a referendum to allow residents of any county located near the Eastern-Central boundary to vote the time they wanted to observe. It is likely that the Indiana time zone issues will continue in the future. Many argue that the entire state should move to the Central time zone. I would vote for that today as riding 110 miles and losing an hour makes for a very long day.
I rode by a field of Longhorn cattle, not something I expected to see in Indiana. Apparently, they have been there for quite a while, over 150 years, so they are clearly there to stay. It was the home of Plainview Longhorns, a family-owned and operated forage producer and cattle breeder with an unmatched reputation for providing the highest quality, dry hay products and breeding cattle to the best bulls in the industry. They are a high-profile name in the agriculture community for their commitment to the production of organic hay products, and in the cattle industry for top-quality beef. They have also been featured in the Smithsonian Magazine as a Century Farm.
the golden arches
Again, we packed up our camping gear in the rain today, and the rain stuck with us throughout most of the day. After a brief respite from the rain, the winds picked up, lightning flashed around us, and the air took on an eerie feel. The winds were blowing so hard that it was difficult to ride -- they were pushing us around like we were little toys. I was riding with Kim and Charlie, and we made a plan to stop at the next house or barn (though these were few and far between) and ask for shelter. Before we could find somewhere, the bottom fell out of the sky and the rain started coming down in sheets. It was difficult to see the road ahead of us and it felt like the wind was going to pick us up and carry us away. We knew we had to get off the road, but couldn't see anywhere to go. Just as we crested the next hill, we could see gleaming gold in the distance. It was the arches of McDonald's that rose out of nowhere as a shining beacon of hope in the distance. Never have I been so excited to see those Golden Arches! We quickly covered the ground between us and McDonald's, nearly slipping on a bridge expansion joint on a rain-covered bridge, but making it safely to shelter in one piece.
It seems we were not the only ones who had that idea. About ten other riders were already in McDonald's, and the other riders trickled in after us over the next minutes. In a team effort, we managed to transform the tidy restaurant into a swampland as drops of water trickled off of our soaked clothing. The rain didn't let up, so we made ourselves right at home, much to the chagrin of the McDonald's staff, and settled in to a second breakfast and kept the lattes coming over the next hours. Someone produced a set of cards, and once we got into a good game of gin rummy, we were more or less glued to our seats. I think we were at McDonald's for at least two hours.
At last the rain did slow (though didn't stop), and we managed to pry ourselves away from our leisurely breakfast and card game. Sarah and I rode together until lunch. Most days we have sandwich-y stuff for lunch -- my recent favorite has been nutella and almond butter on a graham cracker. However, sometimes we have dinner left overs that are put out as well, and any variety is a treat, so doing things like eating a potato out of your hand like an apple starts to become not only a reasonable, but an excellent idea. Today my lunch consisted of a potato, corn on the cob, and string cheese. Now I know that may not sound like much to be excited about to you, but after your body has been working so hard, all food seems glorious. Throughout the trip, I was really pleased with all the food -- it's hard to tell if that's because I was so tired and ravenous that roasted frog liver would seem amazing, or if the food was actually amazing. Either way, I was always quite happy with it.
I know we were staying at the dorms of Valparaiso University that evening and was excited about the time indoors, so I sped through the afternoon alone to get there and maximize the luxury time indoors. Somewhere along the way today, we crossed into our 9th state -- Indiana. Our time in Illinois was short, and we had rain every day, so I ended up with very few pictures from the Land of Lincoln. We travelled only through the Northeast corner of the state and saw mostly flat farmland with corn and soy beans.
And speaking of, the vast amount of soy beans we've seen growing across America makes me think they must be in everything! I expected to see lots of corn, but I wasn't expecting all the soy beans. It got me curious as to what they could all be used for, so I looked it up (thanks wikipedia), and it turns out they are used in most everything -- well, in most processed (animal and) people food products. In addition to tofu and soy milk, soy beans used as a cheap source of protein in animal food and pre-packaged meals. The U.S. is the world's largest producer of soy beans, and judging by the amount we've seen this summer, I believe it!
A bit more information on soy beans taken from Daria's blog:
We rode through more beautiful farm country and saw more corn and more soybeans. I expected to see a lot of corn fields on the BIG RIDE, but was not expecting to see so many soybean fields. Surprisingly, there are over 350,000 farms in the US producing soybeans, accounting for over half of the world’s soybean production. Soybeans are grown on almost 73 million acres of cropland. Roughly the same acreage is dedicated to corn.
I arrived at Valparaiso University to find that there was some sort of youth conference going on there as well, so I had to wade through this massive sea of boisterous teenagers to get anywhere. I guess I don't come into contact with too many teenagers these days, and I spent a little time just observing the hustle and bustle. It was an interesting reminder of the bizarre time in life known as the teenage years where you wear the most ridiculous things just because everyone else does, you wear braces, your body grows in odd, bursting spasms, you feel like an adult but generally behave and are treated like a kid, you feel uncomfortable in your own skin, you have to go to dances and pretend like you know how to dance, and cliques reign. I'm so glad those years are over. :o) In the evening, I got to do laundry, spend a bit of time cleaning my bicycle, and even catch the last bit of the Tour on the television.
It seems we were not the only ones who had that idea. About ten other riders were already in McDonald's, and the other riders trickled in after us over the next minutes. In a team effort, we managed to transform the tidy restaurant into a swampland as drops of water trickled off of our soaked clothing. The rain didn't let up, so we made ourselves right at home, much to the chagrin of the McDonald's staff, and settled in to a second breakfast and kept the lattes coming over the next hours. Someone produced a set of cards, and once we got into a good game of gin rummy, we were more or less glued to our seats. I think we were at McDonald's for at least two hours.
At last the rain did slow (though didn't stop), and we managed to pry ourselves away from our leisurely breakfast and card game. Sarah and I rode together until lunch. Most days we have sandwich-y stuff for lunch -- my recent favorite has been nutella and almond butter on a graham cracker. However, sometimes we have dinner left overs that are put out as well, and any variety is a treat, so doing things like eating a potato out of your hand like an apple starts to become not only a reasonable, but an excellent idea. Today my lunch consisted of a potato, corn on the cob, and string cheese. Now I know that may not sound like much to be excited about to you, but after your body has been working so hard, all food seems glorious. Throughout the trip, I was really pleased with all the food -- it's hard to tell if that's because I was so tired and ravenous that roasted frog liver would seem amazing, or if the food was actually amazing. Either way, I was always quite happy with it.
I know we were staying at the dorms of Valparaiso University that evening and was excited about the time indoors, so I sped through the afternoon alone to get there and maximize the luxury time indoors. Somewhere along the way today, we crossed into our 9th state -- Indiana. Our time in Illinois was short, and we had rain every day, so I ended up with very few pictures from the Land of Lincoln. We travelled only through the Northeast corner of the state and saw mostly flat farmland with corn and soy beans.
And speaking of, the vast amount of soy beans we've seen growing across America makes me think they must be in everything! I expected to see lots of corn, but I wasn't expecting all the soy beans. It got me curious as to what they could all be used for, so I looked it up (thanks wikipedia), and it turns out they are used in most everything -- well, in most processed (animal and) people food products. In addition to tofu and soy milk, soy beans used as a cheap source of protein in animal food and pre-packaged meals. The U.S. is the world's largest producer of soy beans, and judging by the amount we've seen this summer, I believe it!
A bit more information on soy beans taken from Daria's blog:
We rode through more beautiful farm country and saw more corn and more soybeans. I expected to see a lot of corn fields on the BIG RIDE, but was not expecting to see so many soybean fields. Surprisingly, there are over 350,000 farms in the US producing soybeans, accounting for over half of the world’s soybean production. Soybeans are grown on almost 73 million acres of cropland. Roughly the same acreage is dedicated to corn.
I arrived at Valparaiso University to find that there was some sort of youth conference going on there as well, so I had to wade through this massive sea of boisterous teenagers to get anywhere. I guess I don't come into contact with too many teenagers these days, and I spent a little time just observing the hustle and bustle. It was an interesting reminder of the bizarre time in life known as the teenage years where you wear the most ridiculous things just because everyone else does, you wear braces, your body grows in odd, bursting spasms, you feel like an adult but generally behave and are treated like a kid, you feel uncomfortable in your own skin, you have to go to dances and pretend like you know how to dance, and cliques reign. I'm so glad those years are over. :o) In the evening, I got to do laundry, spend a bit of time cleaning my bicycle, and even catch the last bit of the Tour on the television.
fool me once, shame on you. fool me twice, shame on me.
When I "woke up" (though how can one wake up if they have never slept?) the next morning, it was still raining. And I had 106 miles between me and our destination for the day, Coal City, Illinois. I wanted nothing more than to be in a warm bed surrounded with blankets, eating soup, and napping all day long. It was at this point that I started scheming. How could I make this happen? The only way I saw was to get a hotel room for the day (though acquiring blankets and soup would take some additional work, this would at least provide a warm bed), but that meant I'd have to catch a cab 106 miles to meet up with the group for the next day's ride. This would cost a small fortune. Not seeing any other options, I managed to drag myself out of the puddle (yes, the one inside my tent) that I'd been lying in and shoved all of my wet belongings into my wet bags. I didn't even know what to do with my broken glasses.
Sometimes I'm a little bit fussy, but this morning I was really fussy. We were all huddled under this little overhang like sardines in a can to keep out of the rain while eating breakfast when Noel started to sing. Now I will probably look back on this trip and remember Noel's early morning serenades with fondness. However, I don't have the ability to look on it with anything but contempt in the moment, so I decided that sitting in the rain was preferable to being in a can with a singing sardine, so I went and sat out in the rain. I didn't talk to anyone all morning, because I know that if you can't say anything nice, you shouldn't say anything at all. And my talking would probably have been more like growling, so sitting by myself in the grass in the rain was probably a good place for me to be.
As we got our cue sheets and rode out into the wet world, I knocked on Rich's window and told him to go ahead and start preparing a pep talk -- it was going to be a pep-talk-required kind of day. I sulked through the first ten miles, but by the check point at mile 20, I seem to have snapped out of it. I rode with Geena and Caitlin for a bit, who always make me laugh, and talking with them and just telling someone about my ridiculous night made it better. When we got to the checkpoint in a gas station parking lot, Lynn told us that a bridge ahead was out, so we were going to have to take a detour around it. Rich was out working out the detour, so all the riders were hanging out in the gas station in the meantime. The time in the gas station was a glorious break from the wet, rainy morning (well at least for us -- I can't speak on behalf of the workers there who had twenty-some-odd soaking bikers descend upon their nice, (formerly) clean little store). It also proved to be an excellent time for a second (and OK, third) cup of coffee. I read a newspaper, caught up on world news (it was depressing as usual), joked with the other riders, and generally got into better spirits. Hooray, I was winning the battle against the tent already by not letting it ruin my day!
It did continue to rain for the rest of the day, but I rode with Kate Montana, and we turned the day into a game. We pretended like we were in the Tour de France (except that ours was the Tour de Squish since that was the noise our soaking shoes made with each turn of the pedals), and we got a certain amount of points for each rider that we passed. Points were awarded based on how far away the rider was (we'd set our sights on someone in the distance and race to catch them) and on how speed of a rider they were. We made our way through the day quite speedily in this manner.
We arrived at camp and headed straight for the lake in the campground, as the gear truck hadn't arrived yet, and promptly jumped in wearing all of our clothes. We had sandwiches in the campground for dinner along with locally grown corn on the cob (so sweet and delicious!) and boiled potatoes.
The rain had let up in the afternoon, so when we got to camp, I laid out all of my belongings, still soaked from the night before, to dry in the sun or I hung them up on a tree to hang dry. I spent an inordinate amount of time setting up my tent. I may roast alive going to bed (it was SO hot out and even more so with the rain fly on), but I'd be ready for anything Mother Nature could hurl at me that night!
And it's a good thing too because it did storm throughout the night yet again. Thankfully my rain fly was on (properly :o)), and I fared much better than the previous night. I didn't even crush or destroy any of my belongings -- things are looking up for me! :o)
Sometimes I'm a little bit fussy, but this morning I was really fussy. We were all huddled under this little overhang like sardines in a can to keep out of the rain while eating breakfast when Noel started to sing. Now I will probably look back on this trip and remember Noel's early morning serenades with fondness. However, I don't have the ability to look on it with anything but contempt in the moment, so I decided that sitting in the rain was preferable to being in a can with a singing sardine, so I went and sat out in the rain. I didn't talk to anyone all morning, because I know that if you can't say anything nice, you shouldn't say anything at all. And my talking would probably have been more like growling, so sitting by myself in the grass in the rain was probably a good place for me to be.
As we got our cue sheets and rode out into the wet world, I knocked on Rich's window and told him to go ahead and start preparing a pep talk -- it was going to be a pep-talk-required kind of day. I sulked through the first ten miles, but by the check point at mile 20, I seem to have snapped out of it. I rode with Geena and Caitlin for a bit, who always make me laugh, and talking with them and just telling someone about my ridiculous night made it better. When we got to the checkpoint in a gas station parking lot, Lynn told us that a bridge ahead was out, so we were going to have to take a detour around it. Rich was out working out the detour, so all the riders were hanging out in the gas station in the meantime. The time in the gas station was a glorious break from the wet, rainy morning (well at least for us -- I can't speak on behalf of the workers there who had twenty-some-odd soaking bikers descend upon their nice, (formerly) clean little store). It also proved to be an excellent time for a second (and OK, third) cup of coffee. I read a newspaper, caught up on world news (it was depressing as usual), joked with the other riders, and generally got into better spirits. Hooray, I was winning the battle against the tent already by not letting it ruin my day!
It did continue to rain for the rest of the day, but I rode with Kate Montana, and we turned the day into a game. We pretended like we were in the Tour de France (except that ours was the Tour de Squish since that was the noise our soaking shoes made with each turn of the pedals), and we got a certain amount of points for each rider that we passed. Points were awarded based on how far away the rider was (we'd set our sights on someone in the distance and race to catch them) and on how speed of a rider they were. We made our way through the day quite speedily in this manner.
We arrived at camp and headed straight for the lake in the campground, as the gear truck hadn't arrived yet, and promptly jumped in wearing all of our clothes. We had sandwiches in the campground for dinner along with locally grown corn on the cob (so sweet and delicious!) and boiled potatoes.
The rain had let up in the afternoon, so when we got to camp, I laid out all of my belongings, still soaked from the night before, to dry in the sun or I hung them up on a tree to hang dry. I spent an inordinate amount of time setting up my tent. I may roast alive going to bed (it was SO hot out and even more so with the rain fly on), but I'd be ready for anything Mother Nature could hurl at me that night!
And it's a good thing too because it did storm throughout the night yet again. Thankfully my rain fly was on (properly :o)), and I fared much better than the previous night. I didn't even crush or destroy any of my belongings -- things are looking up for me! :o)
camping failure
We woke up to rain. The pouring kind. Throughout breakfast at the university cafeteria, I kept eyeing the windows to see if it had stopped (one can hope, no?). It didn't stop. And it didn't look like it was going to anytime soon. So, off we went in the rainy mess of Madison morning rush hour.
It was raining so hard that it was difficult to see road signs, and we started out the day by making a wrong turn, but got back on track before going too far astray. I rode with different people throughout the day – mainly Kim, Kate, Daria, Brian, and Jim -- and it turns out that riding with people makes the day so much nicer. Silly books on tape... what was I thinking?
Late in the morning, the rain let up and we spent most of the day on county roads winding through the Wisconsin countryside. Surprisingly (I don't know why this is surprising really... I suppose I'd just never heard much about Wisconsin), it turns out that Wisconsin is an absolutely beautiful state, and I really enjoyed riding through it.
To give credit where credit is due... I took the above from Charlie's photos.
We did have to ride on a gravel road for a few miles today, but we took it slowly and made it through without any trouble. It seems that Jim was not so lucky. When we approached the end of the gravel bit, he was on the side of the road changing a flat tire. Unfortunately, it was not just the one -- both of his tires had managed to go flat at the same time! Several of us stopped to lend a hand and wait for him. A few minutes after we'd been sitting around there, a loud sound, not unlike a gunshot, rang through the air. Around the same, I felt a bit of a jolt, and looked down to see that the side of my rear tire had blown completely out. Thankfully, Charlton, the crew leader, was nearby with the gear truck and had a spare wheel that we put on to keep me going.
Lunch was later in the day today, which I prefer. That way, at lunch you can be assured that most of the day is behind you and you're on the home stretch. Unfortunately, a bit after lunch, I had my second flat of the day. Thankfully, I've had so many now that I've become a lot better at changing them quickly. A Big Ride alumni, Jim Andresen, who lives nearby set up the afternoon checkpoint for us and brought all sorts of amazing goodies, including watermelon and Dairy Queen blizzards! These were truly appreciated on a day as hot as today.
I had a nice ride throughout the afternoon with Kate and Daria, and we put the Beatles on my speakers -- riding through the amazing Wisconsin countryside with the Beatles songs blowing in the breeze is not a half bad way to spend an afternoon!
We're staying at a campground again tonight, and on the way into camp, we saw a little girl skid on some gravel while biking and fly over the handlebars. We helped clean her off and waited for her parents to arrive, and she'll be fine, but it was a good reminder to be careful when cycling.
We ate dinner as a group at a nearby pizza joint, Rock Bottom , and I had a nice post-dinner walk and talk with Kathleen.
Throughout this trip, you've seen how much difficulty I've had learning how to properly assemble my tent. However, I do think we've now moved past that stage and are actually getting on quite well these days. Unfortunately, there's now someone else I'm having some trouble with -- the rain fly. I know it's a sensible thing, but it just makes it so hot inside the tent -- like a little sauna. And who can sleep in a sauna? Not I, so I went to bed with the rain fly off (I did not see a single cloud in the sky and figured this would be fine) so that the breeze could blow through the screen of my tent.
It turns out, this was a mistake. I woke up sometime between midnight and 1 AM, approximately 5 seconds before it started to pour. I was disoriented, half blind (I couldn't find my glasses), and could not recall how to work my rain fly. It started to rain. I had a choice to make -- I could either work out how to put the rain fly on properly (and let everything inside my tent get drenched in the meantime), or I could just throw the rain fly on and hope for the best. I chose the latter. It did not work out well for me. I managed to put the rain fly on both upside down and backwards -- a truly special thing indeed. I also managed to get completely drenched in the process, and by the time I crawled inside the rain fly and squirmed around the tiny gap between the tent and rain fly to get to the tent door, I realized that everything inside the tent was wet as well. It seems that rain flies do not work as well upside down, and throughout the night, the rain dripped steadily into my tent. Unfortunately, it was too late to rectify the error as it was raining so hard that taking the rain fly off, even for a moment, to flip it around the right way, was not an option.
One might think I'd been ridiculous enough for one night, but, in fact, I was just beginning. I noted that the rain was coming in more around the edges of the tent, so I tried to push together and pile up everything in the middle of the tent. In the process, I managed to crush my (prescription) eye glasses (which I had still never managed to find throughout this whole mess). I then realized I'd left my bicycle shoes and (non-water-resistant) speakers outside hanging on my bicycle. If the night were a contest to see how many things one could destroy in a single night, I feel certain I would have won. If you'd let a tasmanian devil loose in my tent, I'm convinced he could not have done more damage than I did that night.
I lied there soaking in a puddle throughout the rest of the night staring at the ceiling of my tent and seething. My tent may have won the battle, but I would win the war. And yes, it is now a war.
It was raining so hard that it was difficult to see road signs, and we started out the day by making a wrong turn, but got back on track before going too far astray. I rode with different people throughout the day – mainly Kim, Kate, Daria, Brian, and Jim -- and it turns out that riding with people makes the day so much nicer. Silly books on tape... what was I thinking?
Late in the morning, the rain let up and we spent most of the day on county roads winding through the Wisconsin countryside. Surprisingly (I don't know why this is surprising really... I suppose I'd just never heard much about Wisconsin), it turns out that Wisconsin is an absolutely beautiful state, and I really enjoyed riding through it.
To give credit where credit is due... I took the above from Charlie's photos.
We did have to ride on a gravel road for a few miles today, but we took it slowly and made it through without any trouble. It seems that Jim was not so lucky. When we approached the end of the gravel bit, he was on the side of the road changing a flat tire. Unfortunately, it was not just the one -- both of his tires had managed to go flat at the same time! Several of us stopped to lend a hand and wait for him. A few minutes after we'd been sitting around there, a loud sound, not unlike a gunshot, rang through the air. Around the same, I felt a bit of a jolt, and looked down to see that the side of my rear tire had blown completely out. Thankfully, Charlton, the crew leader, was nearby with the gear truck and had a spare wheel that we put on to keep me going.
Lunch was later in the day today, which I prefer. That way, at lunch you can be assured that most of the day is behind you and you're on the home stretch. Unfortunately, a bit after lunch, I had my second flat of the day. Thankfully, I've had so many now that I've become a lot better at changing them quickly. A Big Ride alumni, Jim Andresen, who lives nearby set up the afternoon checkpoint for us and brought all sorts of amazing goodies, including watermelon and Dairy Queen blizzards! These were truly appreciated on a day as hot as today.
I had a nice ride throughout the afternoon with Kate and Daria, and we put the Beatles on my speakers -- riding through the amazing Wisconsin countryside with the Beatles songs blowing in the breeze is not a half bad way to spend an afternoon!
We're staying at a campground again tonight, and on the way into camp, we saw a little girl skid on some gravel while biking and fly over the handlebars. We helped clean her off and waited for her parents to arrive, and she'll be fine, but it was a good reminder to be careful when cycling.
We ate dinner as a group at a nearby pizza joint, Rock Bottom , and I had a nice post-dinner walk and talk with Kathleen.
Throughout this trip, you've seen how much difficulty I've had learning how to properly assemble my tent. However, I do think we've now moved past that stage and are actually getting on quite well these days. Unfortunately, there's now someone else I'm having some trouble with -- the rain fly. I know it's a sensible thing, but it just makes it so hot inside the tent -- like a little sauna. And who can sleep in a sauna? Not I, so I went to bed with the rain fly off (I did not see a single cloud in the sky and figured this would be fine) so that the breeze could blow through the screen of my tent.
It turns out, this was a mistake. I woke up sometime between midnight and 1 AM, approximately 5 seconds before it started to pour. I was disoriented, half blind (I couldn't find my glasses), and could not recall how to work my rain fly. It started to rain. I had a choice to make -- I could either work out how to put the rain fly on properly (and let everything inside my tent get drenched in the meantime), or I could just throw the rain fly on and hope for the best. I chose the latter. It did not work out well for me. I managed to put the rain fly on both upside down and backwards -- a truly special thing indeed. I also managed to get completely drenched in the process, and by the time I crawled inside the rain fly and squirmed around the tiny gap between the tent and rain fly to get to the tent door, I realized that everything inside the tent was wet as well. It seems that rain flies do not work as well upside down, and throughout the night, the rain dripped steadily into my tent. Unfortunately, it was too late to rectify the error as it was raining so hard that taking the rain fly off, even for a moment, to flip it around the right way, was not an option.
One might think I'd been ridiculous enough for one night, but, in fact, I was just beginning. I noted that the rain was coming in more around the edges of the tent, so I tried to push together and pile up everything in the middle of the tent. In the process, I managed to crush my (prescription) eye glasses (which I had still never managed to find throughout this whole mess). I then realized I'd left my bicycle shoes and (non-water-resistant) speakers outside hanging on my bicycle. If the night were a contest to see how many things one could destroy in a single night, I feel certain I would have won. If you'd let a tasmanian devil loose in my tent, I'm convinced he could not have done more damage than I did that night.
I lied there soaking in a puddle throughout the rest of the night staring at the ceiling of my tent and seething. My tent may have won the battle, but I would win the war. And yes, it is now a war.
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