Tuesday, June 30, 2009
 |
| Stoker's Log Day Fifteen |
| 6/30/09 |
| From Dayton, OH |
| To Richmond, IN |
| 40.8 miles |
| 9.1 avg mph |
This morning we had Kate and Justin to see us off and to take a rare photo of us from more than an arm's length away.
They also compensated for our forgetfulness, driving after us to drop off a water bottle that we had left behind at the motel. Our other roadside encounter of the morning was much stranger: as we rode past a car dealership a very excited man held out $20 to me and shouted "Take it! You need it! Good Luck! Yay!" It was confusing, but much appreciated nonetheless.
When we reached Englewood we stopped for supplies at an Alto grocery store. I had never experienced Alto before; the selection is sparse and apparently at some of the stores you have to deposit a quarter in order to use a cart, but the prices simply can't be beat. I bought a bag of bagels and a handful of super cheap energy bars; unfortunately I got what I paid for with the latter and most of them ended up in the trash. Next to the Alto was a Goodwill, so I popped in to look for a sweater so that when we went out at night I wouldn't have to choose between wearing a dirty long sleeved cycling shirt or freezing in just a tanktop. Well, I was supposed to just pop in, but between their large selection and my shopping withdrawal I spent quite a while in there before coming out with a nice black sweater and a pair of shiny blue baller shorts to wear over my spandex during lunch breaks. I was excited to break them out when we stopped at Sarah's, a pizza and sub shop that looked like a rundown auto shop from the outside but was filled with delicious food and friendly people on the inside.
Unfortunately these were the highlights of an otherwise miserable day. We once again faced a headwind, and while it wasn't quite as bad as yesterday's I was in no mood for it. I was tired of riding through Ohio and its weather, especially when it turned into a storm that we had to outrun. At least someone was putting the wind to good use:
I was also still shaken up by a terrifying event that happened earlier in the day. We were riding on the shoulder of a main road when a red pickup roared past, then swerved away from us into the other lane. The driver rushed back towards his own lane but overcorrected and ploughed head first into the guard rail, bending it way out of shape. Fortunately the driver was unharmed, and his truck was tall enough to be barely damaged by the crash. He said he saw we were too close to the road (we weren't) and swerved to avoid us (with a delayed reaction, since he was well beyond us before he swerved). Kyle was pretty sure he was inebriated, even though it was just past 10:00 on a Tuesday morning. We're always on edge when we ride at night or through construction zones and big cities, but this was a sobering reminder that accidents can happen at any time, and that in most situations it isn't the automobile that fares the worst. A woman who witnessed the incident from up the road stopped to ask if we were okay, and when I saw the motherly panic in her eyes I knew that I couldn't tell my parents about our close call, at least not right away. (But I guess now they know, and hopefully forgive me.)
One upside of our alternatingly boring and harrowing ride was its brevity. We only had to make it to Richmond, IN, 40 miles away. That way a 70 mile ride the next day would put us just outside of Indianapolis, a crowded city with a horrible cycling reputation that we wanted to cross before sunrise the following day. So, just after crossing the border (yay!), we got into town in time for a proper dinner at one of my favorite places: Cracker Barrel, land of Stewarts sodas and oh so much starchy goodness.
I thought we would follow dinner with a normal, relaxing evening where I would blog or organize photos and Kyle would route plan. But Kyle had news that would throw our trip in jeopardy and leave us confused, desperate, and depressed. He had finally had a chance to look through maps of the west in detail, and he didn't like what he saw. "There's a 130 mile stretch in Wyoming with no amenities whatsoever." Clearly I had heard him incorrectly. Not only would we have to ride 130 miles from motel to motel, but there would be no bathrooms, food, or water on the way? "Probably few cars and spotty cell service as well." So not just inconvenient, but terrifyingly unsafe; what if we happened to get stranded that day? "Actually it looks like many of the motels in Wyoming, Montana, and eastern Oregon are about 100 miles apart." So we would be riding a series of centuries through uninhabited wilderness with no support or back up plan if we got stranded by bike problems or delayed by a head wind or injured by the long rides or surrounded by a storm or...or...or... It seemed impossible, or difficult and highly risky at best. We just kept looking at each other and the maps without anything hopeful to offer. We didn't want to quit now, but we also didn't want to go through weeks of pain and sacrifice in the midwest only to turn around and fly home before completing the trip. And how were we supposed to decide between the risk of riding across the west and the shame and disappointment of giving up? We talked about buying camping equipment but that would only solve some of our problems (and considering my hatred of and inexperience with camping it could create several new ones). It was all so demoralizing... and especially frustrating for me. On the one hand I couldn't get mad at Kyle since he had taken the enormous responsibility of route planning all on his shoulders, but at the same time I felt like he had gotten us into this massive undertaking without finding out or telling me what it really entailed. It didn't matter how much energy and effort we put towards the trip, unfinished planning and an inhospitable route might ruin everything. Our discussions circled uselessly and we just got increasingly glum. We finally gave up on long term planning and went to sleep, determined to ride as far as Indianapolis but unsure of anything beyond it.
| posted at: 08:30 |
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Tuesday, June 30, 2009
After a quick stop for breakfast, we were off to Richmond. While this would be a short day, we figured it would take us a while to get out of Ohio due to some stops we needed to make. But before we even made it out of Vandalia Kate and Justin had to hunt us down - we'd left a water bottle in the hotel room. Thanks guys!
Just west of Vandalia we passed through Englewood, which seemed like a nice town to make our stops in, and possibly the only other town we'd see before lunch. Our first stop was at Aldi's, where we picked up some awful tasting granola bars that we eventually threw away and a new bag of bagels. Although we rarely actually stopped to eat our bagels, we always try to keep a bag with us, in case we're ever stuck somewhere that we're starving or can't find other food. I think of it as a $2.39 a week insurance policy.
In addition to new groceries we also had to stop at Goodwill. Jillian keeps freezing at night when we go out to eat and she never has any warm clothing to wear. She keeps insisting she needs a big sweatshirt to wear at night, but I keep insisting there's no room (there isn't). She's also looking for a pair of modesty shorts - shorts to wear on top of her spandex when we stop somewhere to eat during the day. She eventually found both a black sweater and a pair of blue "balla" shorts, which are just blue basketball shorts that go down to her knees. Unfortunately I didn't think to get a picture at the time, but she walked out of the store singing "I Wish" by Skee-Lo.
The rest of the day was... boring. Winds picked up again, though not as bad as the day before, meaning we had slow going for a long time. Everyone always assumes that hills will be the worst part of a trip, but they're not. On a hill we might move three miles an hour, roughly the same speed we walk. But at least there's an end to it, and you know you'll reach it eventually. Wind is invisible, and it slows us down to a crawl with no reward in sight. It was so demoralizing that we took any opportunity we could find to stop. The day before we'd ridden three or four miles out of our way for a Wendy's and an opportunity to hide the bike on the leeward side of a building. Today we stopped at a park and hid near a tree.
There was nothing to see anywhere we rode, so we took to making up songs for each other. None of them were very good, but they kept us amused.
We reached Lewisburg in time for lunch, where we stopped at Sarah's Subs and Pizza.
Inside we had conversation with friendly ODOT workers, which was a nice change after the ridiculously mean ODOT woman we spoke to a few days ago. Food was wonderful and reasonably priced.
Unfortunately it wasn't long before we were off and riding in the heat and wind again. We passed through Gettysburg, which shared a town name with the town where we'd gone to college. Unfortunately this Gettysburg wasn't really much of a town, not even having a gas station for us to use.
Not too many miles later we passed into Indiana.
We'd planned to ride a few miles into town but we passed a Day's Inn that was advertising a good price and wifi. We couldn't pass it up, even though it would add another few miles to the ride tomorrow. Unfortunately we had to hand wash clothes to wear tomorrow. But there was a Cracker Barrel across the street, which made for a filling place to have dinner.
We also started seriously considering if we could seriously do this trip. We looked through all our maps, studying places in Wyoming and Kansas that seemed empty (130 miles without services?). After two days of punishing wind where we couldn't make any progress, as well as serious saddle pain, we had good reason to doubt ourselves. Across the street from our hotel was a UHaul - meaning it'd be easy to rent a truck, throw the bike in the back and drive home. But Jillian decided there was no way we were going to quit unless the bike was broken. So we decided that we'd at least make it to St Louis, so we could at least say we crossed the Mississippi. Tonight is probably the lowest point we've had on the trip.
| posted at: 08:30 |
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Monday, June 29, 2009
 |
| Stoker's Log Day Fourteen |
| 6/29/09 |
| From Columbus, OH |
| To Dayton, OH |
| 78.8 miles |
| 9.6 avg mph |
This morning we overslept, which very rarely happens on Kyle's watch. We blamed the comfy cloud bed and got going as quickly as we could after bidding farewell to my parents. We had to be ready as soon as our feet hit the pedals since our ride started with a sprint through construction and heavy traffic. My knees didn't appreciate the experience, but at least it was a nice, cool morning. Plus we saw alpacas and LLAMAS!
Also spotted: Ronald McDonald lurking on someone's porch. That's right, he's at it again, and this time I caught him on camera.
(Seriously though, who is buying or stealing these old Ronalds? It boggles the mind.)
Meanwhile the weather -- or more specifically the wind -- had turned against us. Facing a relentless headwind is one of the most frustrating and demoralizing obstacles that a cyclist can face. We crawled along as if we were struggling up a steep incline, but we couldn't see the mountain and we never reached the summit. We kept pedaling and pedaling without getting anywhere or seeing anything; the barren surroundings passed by in excruciatingly slow motion. We couldn't even talk because we could barely hear each other over the wind. When we spotted a Wendy's in the midst of this nothingness we stopped with a sigh of relief; it wasn't close to lunchtime but we needed the physical and mental break.
When we emerged the wind had only worsened, and it wasn't long before Kyle's saddle and hand numbness were driving him crazy. I eventually talked him into switching with me; if nothing else it would give us some much needed variety. In the end I only captained for 12 miles, but against the wind it felt like an eternity. Occasionally the highway split into old and new and we rode through stretches of neighborhood, an oasis for our bored eyes and shaded to boot. Unfortunately I learned the downside of neighborhoods: people live there, and people own dogs. As we passed a woman gardening, her black and white mutt tore off after us. Somehow I managed to steer the bike while keeping a panicked eye on the dog, yelling at Kyle to grab the Halt, and pedaling as hard and as fast as I possibly could. To my relief we managed to outrun the dog without having to spray it, but going from a slow push to an all out sprint brought on a lot of pain for both of us. The long, brutal day continued, and continued to get worse.
As I may have mentioned once or twice, there was almost nothing on this section of US 40. Getting to a bathroom meant turning off for a several mile detour each time; no big deal on a normal day, but highly frustrating with crosswinds buffeting us both ways. We were always overjoyed to see each oasis though. At one of the gas stations Kyle got so excited about their giant 89 cent drinks that he reminded me of the ridiculous guy on the posters.
See the resemblance to the goofball on the door?
Back on the highway the blankness and boredom continued for mile after mile, driving us both a little crazy. I started talking about pink elephants and Kyle narrated a series of offbeat and hilarious Stoker's Logs. Civilization arrived just in time in the form of bustling Springfield, Ohio.
As we rode through downtown Springfield I started seeing signs referencing Wittenberg University. Suddenly it hit me: this was the Wittenberg University I had discovered years before on the internet when I was looking for Hamlet themed products. (I'm more than a little obsessed with the play.) Of course Hamlet went to the one in Germany, but I had always wanted to visit the American version to buy myself a shirt and get postcards for my English nerd friends. And now I unexpectedly had my chance, assuming Kyle would agree to the not insignificant detour. Luckily I have a wonderful husband, even when headwinds have addled his brains. We consulted the Garmin and made our way towards the university, which turned out to be a longer and more difficult trip than we expected. I said a lot of guilty thank-yous to Kyle and fist pumped in relief when we finally spotted the school's banners. We rode along a brick pathway through the heart of campus until we spotted the student union building. I hopped off the bike and ran inside, only to find the bookstore closed. Curse you stupid summer hours! I asked the girl at the information desk if Wittenberg paraphernalia was sold anywhere else in town, but she wasn't optimistic. I was rather devastated, I'll be honest, but at least we got to photograph the campus and a statue that I pretended was Hamlet in a letterman's jacket and loafers.
And the search for a piece of Hamlet, even (or especially) if unsuccessful, perfectly fit the feeling of the day. Not only had we both started going a little insane, but I seemed to have mortality on my subconscious. Every time I commented on a beautiful or interesting sight in Springfield it turned out to be connected to death: a funeral parlor that I thought was a mansion, a cemetery entrance that looked like a park, a hearse that seemeed like a super sweet ride. It got rather ridiculous, and I was expecting to see ghosts by the end of our time there.
Soon enough we were back in rural and windy Ohio, but we were nearing our destination and our mood improved with every pedal stroke as we watched sun rays break through the clouds. Awaiting us near Dayton were Kyle's friends Kate and Justin and a Super 8 room that seemed to be decorated just for us:
Finally done with the day and out of the wind, we took turns collapsing on the bed and showering before joining Kate and Justin for dinner at Ruby Tuesday's. In between giant helpings of never-ending salad we talked about Ohio (where they live but are trying to escape) and of course our trip. Both of them are mountain bikers, so they understand our love of cycling more than most, just not how we do it on such boring routes (and after today we couldn't really argue). They asked what we'd learned so far, an excellent question that would take a lot of time and thought to answer fully. On a personal level we've learned an incredible deal about our limits and our strengths, and that if we're willing to seem absolutely crazy (and clearly we are) humor really can conquer all. On a practical level we've learned that no matter how much we drink we'll always be thirsty, no matter how much we sleep we'll always be tired, and no matter how much we plan every day will surprise us.
Here's to whatever surprises tomorrow holds...
| posted at: 08:30 |
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Monday, June 29, 2009
After bidding farewell to Jillian's parents (and enjoying an amazing Hampton Inn breakfast), we had to start the day with another sprint through construction, but this time on a Monday morning. Unpleasant, but at least we didn't lose our chain.One thing that surprised us was how rapidly Columbus disappeared. One moment we were riding in the suburbs of Columbus, dealing with big box store traffic, the next we were riding past llamas.
There really wasn't a lot to see in this part of Ohio - just miles and miles of corn. But every so often our travels took us through a small town. One of them even featured Ronald!
We saw more Mail Pouch barns.
Then the winds started to blow. Then I got miserable. Riding into a strong wind means that you start conserving energy, which takes weight off your legs and puts it on your butt. Before long, I was really hurting. Jillian was kind enough to switch with me for a little while (though it was probably in her best interest as well, since I was in a really foul mood).
While Jillian was captaining we even outran a dog. To celebrate, we stopped and got an Freeze.
Then there was more wind. This really slowed us down, because we'd go between four and five mph, when it felt like we should be going twenty. Eventually, after what seemed like forever, we arrived in Springfield. Jillian got really excited about Springfield, because it's the home of Wittenberg University - the school Hamlet attended. After initially missing it, we backtracked with the Garmin and found our way back to campus. Unfortunately the bookstore we closed, but we still took some photos.
Then we were back on the bike to fight traffic instead of wind. We stopped a few miles out of town to take a picture of some sun rays. They were pretty awesome, but it was very difficult to capture.
We arrived in Vandalia a little after dinner, and received a room with very appropriate art at the Super 8.
My friend Kate lives up in Findlay, so her boyfriend Justin and her came down for a visit. Justin is an avid cyclist, but he wasn't able to help us with our headset problem that was causing very shaky handlebars. They took us out to dinner and we split the hotel room for the night, since they were on their way to North Carolina for a few days.
| posted at: 08:29 |
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Sunday, June 28, 2009
 |
| Stoker's Log Day Thirteen |
| 6/28/09 |
| From Newark, OH |
| To Columbus, OH |
| 60.8 miles |
| 12.2 avg mph |
A delicious breakfast and a giant container of cookies to take with us helped to soften the blow of waking up at an obscene hour this morning. We loaded the bike into the truck and Anne drove us to the church where we had ended our ride two days ago -- no missed miles for us! She bid us farewell as the sun rose behind us and we sped out of the parking lot and onto a fenced bike path that ran along the railroad tracks.
As we neared Anne's neighborhood we were unpleasantly surprised by steep hills that nearly destroyed Kyle's knees, but soon we returned to flats and farms. I managed to restrain myself from taking more photos of cows and corn, which were everywhere. We then passed through rundown neighborhoods with torn up pavement and opulent neighborhoods with breathtaking private schools on our way to Columbus, a city which will always be characterized in my mind by gorgeous ancient churches and restaurants with "Dragon" in their name. I really wanted to stop to tour the Conservatory and other attractions, but Kyle quite logically wanted to get through the busiest parts of the city as quickly and as early as possible. Besides, my parents could drive us around Columbus when they met up with us later. That's right, they had driven from PA the night before, partly to see us and partly because my dad never turns down the chance to visit a new minor league ballpark. And suddenly there they were, right beside us! They spotted us and pulled over to discuss plans for the day and offered to buy us coffee or a snack, generosity which sadly failed since both Duncan Donuts and Starbucks were closed. (What is this place, and how does it call itself a city?) They were on their way to the Conservatory but were happy to delay their plans so that we could go too; they instead drove to the old baseball stadium and then on to the hotel to wait for us there. I don't think we offered the triumphant and exciting arrival they expected, however; our chain popped off in the midst of a construction zone where there was nowhere to pull off and fix it so we ended up coasting slowly and undramatically into the hotel parking lot.
The hotel was a Hampton Inn, which was amazing compared to our usual motels. The bed was a cloud and the shower was heaven. I think the room may have known it was too swanky for us, however, because we kept getting hurt in it; I nearly poked my eye out with the flag pole while searching through the bags and before Kyle had stopped laughing at me he clocked his head on one of the counters. I can see it now: "Couple's Cross-Country Trip Cut Short by Their Klutziness Off of the Bike."
Clean, happy, and mostly in one piece, we headed to the Franklin Park Conservatory, a wonderland of giant windows, exotic plants, and Chihuly glass. If you aren't familiar with Chihuly -- and somehow I wasn't -- he is a renowned glass artist who suffered partial blindness and other injuries but continues to create amazing pieces with the help of a team of artists. The conservatory's exhibits seamlessly combined his work with their plants, animals, and architecture. It was a wonderful sight and I vacillated between wanting to photograph everything and wanting to sit back and take it all in. (You can tell that the first impulse frequently won.)
We enjoyed ourselves in the conservatory for quite a while and still had time to walk around the renovated areas near the new stadium before heading to the Clippers' game. I found myself falling in love with Columbus. The stadium itself was also great, especially the sections in the outfield open to the street so that anyone walking by can watch the game for free. We also got to see the game for free, actually, thanks to one of my dad's many friends in the minor league baseball world. (He also just happened to know one of the umpires.) And we were treated to one of the more impressive between-inning acts I've ever seen: "Quick Change." The premise is simple -- a couple changes their outfits, hairstyles, etc. in lightning speed with only a flash of fabric or shower of confetti masking them from the audience -- but it's really quite impressive to watch in person.
Competing for our attention was the entertaining family behind us; the father kept asking his young daughter "Would you rather be at this game or _____" and realizing that she would pretty much rather be anywhere else, including school. The Clippers also had racing food products, always a good choice, and their seal mascot named LouSeal (which is mildly amusing unless you're an Arrested Development fan, in which case it is incredibly amusing.)
The game itself was fantastic, lasting thirteen innings before the Clippers gave up a run to lose 8-7. Unfortunately, we only saw eleven of those innings. I'm very stubborn about staying until the end of exciting games (and sometimes even really boring games, I'll be honest) but eventually I got tired and hungry enough to give in to the rest of the family. I probably pushed myself too far, because I was in bad shape as we drove across the world and back trying to find a restaurant. We finally ended up at an Applebees and life improved considerably when I had some food in me. When we made it to the hotel I was more than ready to hit the sack. And by sack I mean cloud. Sweet dreams everyone.
| posted at: 08:29 |
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Sunday, June 28, 2009
Somehow we managed to convince Anne to drive us to the Marne Methodist Church (where we'd quit for safety reasons three nights before) at sunrise. Imagine our surprise when her entire family was up and made us breakfast. They even gave us cookies to take with us! Staying at Anne's was amazing.
We managed to get a sunrise departure with nice weather. We were hopeful that nothing bad would happen today, since we were trying to make it to Columbus early enough to meet up with Jillian's parents, who were in town to see a minor league baseball game.
The ride started well. We had a nice bike trail from Marne to Newark, without any traffic. It was just the cobwebs - every hundred yards one of us would get a new cobweb in our face.
Riding on the bike path also meant it was fairly flat. We kept a really good pace through Newark, which had incredibly weird parking spaces in the middle of the street.
As we were leaving the area we suddenly hit hills. Nothing too long, but really steep. After two days of not riding at all, my knees gave out. Imagine our embarrassment at having to walk a hill in Ohio. But after that minor setback, we were able to keep a pretty good pace all morning. It was a good thing too, because I made a wrong turn on OH-37 and we ended up taking US-40 into Columbus instead of OH-16, as I'd originally planned. It ended up not mattering which way we took, since we were crossing through the city on a Sunday morning.
As we crossed through downtown, which had some really pretty neighborhoods, we were passed by a Volvo with Pennsylvania plates. Jillian's parents were on their way somewhere when they saw us and puled over. Unfortunately the donut shop we were outside of was closed, so after saying hello we were on our way again. We decided to meet at the hotel we'd all be staying at to the west of town.
West of I-70, west of Columbus, US-40 gets to be a traffic mess and the neighborhood gets to be a little rough (We found out the next day that there were a bunch of cars set fire that night where we'd been riding). I got sick of it quickly, so we turned north and rode Fisher Rd, which was much more pleasant. Unfortunately, that meant Jillian's parents didn't see us again on their way back to the hotel. It took us some time to get there too, since there was some unpleasant road construction without a shoulder. When we're in a situation like that and there isn't too much construction we've found the best strategy is to ride as hard as we can and try to keep up with the cars. This worked pretty well until our chain came off. Fortunately we were able to coast the rest of the way to the hotel. Jillian's parents got very confused about why we weren't pedaling and were going so slow.
Then we got to be tourists in Columbus. First stop was the Franklin Park Conservatory. They had some really awesome glass work by Chihuly.
We walked through the butterfly garden.
We wandered around and looked through the different biome rooms, which were fun. Then it was off to the ball game. But first we got to see a little bit more of the city.
At the game, Jillian made me act happy. In reality I was quite happy, just exhausted. Bike touring is exhausting.
One of the most awesome in between inning shows ever... Quickchange! Here they are before he throws confetti on her:
And here they are after:
They changed outfits probably a dozen times at a few different points in the show.
Jillian's father has an unfortunate curse where all the games he goes to go into extra innings. Around inning 12 or 13 we left, with the score still tied. Normally we would have stayed, but we needed to get dinner and go to bed so we could get up early. After driving back to the hotel and looking around a bit, we settled on Applebees.
After dinner Jillian and her mother went searching for a knee brace at Walmart (no luck). Jillian's father and I moved Jillian and my stuff to our room (it had been too early to check in when we'd first arrived), and then I was sound asleep in moments.
| posted at: 08:29 |
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Saturday, June 27, 2009
 |
| Stoker's Log Day Twelve |
| 6/27/09 |
| Rest Day Two in Granville, OH |
We started our day at the farmer's market, enjoying homemade fruit tarts for breakfast and watching Anne's superpower: the ability to knit or spin anytime, anywhere.
She also dyes her own wool, by the by.
We keep promising/threatening to buy her a sheep, clearly the next logical step.
When we got back from the market our wedding gift from Anne was waiting for us: massages from her friend, who not only massages people but also works on horses and just a few days ago brought her dog back to life with her magic hands after it was crushed by a fence. I don't think many other masseuses can put "literal miracle worker" on their resume.
When we were (reluctantly) done luxuriating and devouring Anne's handmade pizza with fresh mozzarella, we decided to play tourist, so Anne took us to The Hopewell Mounds. The mounds are, well, mounds of dirt. They aren't that impressive to look at from the ground...
...but from the air they form precise geometric shapes, and the history and mystery behind them are actually rather fascinating. The geometric earthworks were constructed sometime in the first few centuries AD by a people known only by "Hopewell," the name of the farmer who owned the property when the works were rediscovered. They seem to be burial mounds but they have also been found to correspond to lunar and other astronomical cycles. Basically no one can be sure about anything about them, but the theories are certainly interesting.
We learned all of this in the one room museum and then wandered the park for a while. Kyle amused himself by documenting my photoaddiction:
We also walked through moth hatching season; without warning the trees were filled with their cocoons and the air with their fluttering bodies.
My other entomological moment of the day was FINALLY discovering the purpose of the purple boxes we had spotted hanging from trees throughout the Laurel Highlands.
Apparently they are used to measure the Emerald Ash Borer population, an insect that wreaks havoc on the local trees. I'm glad that Anne's mother started talking about them because the mystery had been bothering me for days. (Often there wasn't much to look at or think about on those endless uphills.)
Our final tourist stop was at the impressive Bryn Du Mansion, but a wedding was about to begin there so we only got a quick peek inside the gates. I was especially sad that our visit didn't coincide with the polo matches that sometimes take place on the ample front grounds.
Then it was back to the house for our favorite things: delicious food and complete relaxation, the kind that occasionally let us forget that tomorrow we'll be back on the road again... at sunrise.
Here's to our absolutely wonderful hosts... and to their hammocks...
| posted at: 08:29 |
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Saturday, June 27, 2009
After an incredibly restful night at Anne's house we rose to a marvelous breakfast. I love breakfast. Then, while getting the tour of the garden, I played with the cat. Jillian took photos.
Then we were off to the bike shop. First task of the day was to get the wheel fixed. After several days of constant work at keeping the back true there was a chance we could put a new tire on the back wheel and avoid having any tire rub. Before we'd gotten there, Anne did a bunch of research and found a shop that worked entirely on recumbent and tandems. So we threw the bike back in the truck, Anne left for work, and her mother drove us to the bike shop.
Our tire had an unusual wear pattern. Good tread up on the outside of the tire, but well worn on the side wall.
We left the bike at the shop to fix the wheel and investigate our chain, which by now was actually looking brown. On our way back to the house we actually experienced some car problems, as a brake locked on the truck, causing a good deal of smoke as we pulled into the driveway. Fortunately it turned out to not be too big of a deal - otherwise it would have been hard to pick the bike back up.
While we were in Granville we met with Bob Rush, a local cyclist who had completed a number of long tours. He had a lot of advice for us, notably a route to St Louis. We decided to follow his advice, and until St Louis we'd be following US-40. The only tricky spot would be in Indianapolis, where drivers are rumored to be rude and some neighborhoods are known to be bad. He recommended stopping at a bike shop just inside the Indianapolis beltway, but I decided the better option might be to just ride through the city really early.
After receiving a lot of helpful advice Jillian started blogging and I took a seat on the easy chair in the living room.
Several hours later, Jillian woke me up to go pick up the bike.
The bike shop had determined the real problem of our rubbing was the size of the tire. We had been using a 2 1/4 tire, which gave us less than 3/16 clearance on either side. Our new tire would be 1 1/2, meaning we'd no longer be rubbing and giving us less resistance on the road. We also discovered that the chain wasn't bad, it was just very poorly lubed. Those problems fixed, we loaded the bike in the truck and were off to be tourists. Anne's mother drove us out to Newark to see the Longaberger Basket Headquarters. It fit perfectly with our random buildings (shoe house, giant coffee pot).
Unfortunately, we arrived too late to see the inside. We tried peering through the windows longingly, but it didn't really work.
Then we got a brief tour of Newark, which highlighted the bike path we'd be riding to get out of town. Our next stop was the library where Anne works. They had an awesome arch.
We wandered around the library (which was very nice) and Jillian took a lot of pictures.
We switched vehicles, and Anne's mother took the bike home while we went with Anne to the barn. As we pulled into the barn driveway, I heard a sound I loved. Dogs! And big ones!
Anne went off and did something with the horses. Jillian wandered away with her camera. I played with the dogs. Anne was working a new horse, so Jillian and I camped out on some chairs and took pictures (and played with the dogs, when they weren't hiding in the shade).
Eventually I was able to talk Jillian into brushing a dog for a photo. She was smiling through, so I think she enjoyed it.
Jillian also got to feed a horse (when it behaved).
The horses were fun, but it was time to get some ice cream. We went into town and got some delicious ice cream with the dogs, who hungrily ate their own dog sized ice cream at our table. On the drive home we received a tour of Denison University and Granville. Nice campus, pretty town. Apparently a bunch of New Englanders just packed up and moved to Ohio. Since they built the whole town together it has a kind of New England feel that Jillian and I both liked.
Dinner was delicious and afterward we went out with a few of Anne's friends, sharing crazy stories. It was a delightful way to end out first rest day in Ohio.
The next morning we got up in time to go to the farmer's market. On the way downstairs we noticed a ridiculously large spinning wheel. Anne has progressed from knitting to making her own yarn.
At the farmer's market we had some delicious lemonade and pastries. One of the really cool things about a lot of towns in this area were the brick streets. Apparently they run a bicycle race on this street every year. I can only imagine how that must go.
The pastries really were amazing, plus they had fruit on them. We at a ton of fruit at Anne's house. One of the problems with being on the road is a total inability to find healthy food. By the time we'd arrived at Anne's house we'd worked up massive cravings for fruits and veggies.
Back at Anne's house we were treated to a wedding present - massages! We actually got them outside at Anne's house, which was a very peaceful setting. Thank you Anne!
Right next to where we had our massages was the laundry rack. This was on it.
At a distance it looks disturbingly like a dead animal. But it was just wool drying. We decided that we'd just need to get Anne a sheep, so she could do the whole wool making process.
Anne took us back in to town to see the Newark Earthworks. The one we saw was the Great Circle, which at just over a thousand feet in diameter, is the largest. I stopped to read all of the signs.
Jillian took a lot of pictures, so I'd get bored and take pictures of her taking pictures. I call it metaphotography.
On the way back from the mounds we took a look at the grounds of the Bryn Du Mansion.
Then I took another nap.
After another delicious dinner, which was made extra delicious by the fact that it was grilled and not fried, like all the road food we ate, it was time for bed. Since we hadn't quite made it to Newark on the previous ride we'd need to do an extra 15-20 miles tomorrow, which meant a very early start.
| posted at: 08:29 |
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Friday, June 26, 2009
|
| Stoker's Log Day Eleven |
| 6/26/09 |
| Rest Day in Granville, OH |
Ahhhhh...relaxation. Staying with Anne's family is like staying at a friend's bed and breakfast, chocolate mints and in-room coffee maker included. After a restful night in the four poster guest bed we were treated to a delicious breakfast that went a long way towards curing our fresh fruit withdrawal. We enjoyed some down time and then headed off to the bike shop as soon as it opened, with a tour of Granville and Newark from Anne's mom on the way. The shop specialized in recumbents and other atypical bicycles, which is a good sign when you're riding something as strange as our contraption. We were relieved to learn that we probably weren't carrying excessive weight and that we could replace our back wheel with a narrower one to solve the frame rub problem.
We left the bike in good hands and returned to the house to meet Bob Rush, a friend of Anne's family who has completed many amazing endurance adventures over the years, most recently biking the Lewis and Clark trail from Ohio to Oregon. He shared his photos and stories (he has links on the local bike club's website) and gave us advice on how to navigate the worst cities on our route. He also warned us about the challenges ahead, like increasingly unhealthy food options and unavoidable bike problems, but above all he was excited about our trip and just happy to talk touring cycling.
After a relaxing afternoon we headed back to the bike shop and then on to the famous Longaberger Basket. We just missed their open hours but could sneak a peek at their impressive lobby.
Then it was off to the beautiful library where Anne works....
...followed by the barn where she works her horses.
Kyle quickly made some new canine friends (and made me make friends with them too)
After a driving tour of the Denison campus it was back to the house for a delicious dinner and good conversation on the screened-in porch. Afterward we joined some of Anne's high school friends for drinks downtown (though drinks for me meant water since I forgot that my ID was buried in our bags). We talked about everything from crazy college shenanigans to the library funding crisis until it was time for us to get back and turn in. Tomorrow we're taking another day off to be pampered tourists. It is definitely going to be hard to leave here...
| posted at: 08:28 |
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Thursday, June 25, 2009
 |
| Stoker's Log Day Ten |
| 6/25/09 |
| From St. Clairsville, OH |
| To Newark, OH |
| 100 miles |
| 10 avg mph |
With 112 miles to cover we needed an early start, and by some miracle we were ready to leave at sunrise. By another miracle the hotel breakfast was already out, so we could grab a quick bite before departing. We had a pleasant start; as much as I hate waking up early, I do like riding at sunrise. Maybe I'll admit that to Kyle someday. It wasn't long, however, before we noticed a familiar sqeaking and slowing; our wheel was rubbing against the frame, again. Kyle was worried that our problem was weight; the bike, the gear, and the two of us probably weigh almost 400 pounds all told (I'm always tempted to go to a truck weigh station and find out exactly) and much of it is focused on the back wheel. We tore through our bags, pulled out everything we could spare to send home, and mailed it away at the first available Post Office. We managed to lose 8 pounds of stuff; Kyle was astounded and kept yelling "8 Pounds!?!" at random points throughout the day. We also switched seats so that Kyle, who weighs more, would be over the front wheel instead of the back. It was my first time captaining on this trip, and I was initially terrified every time a car passed us. Kyle was probably terrified as well since I was wobbling all over the shoulder of the road. Eventually I settled in and straightened out - for the most part. You'll notice I even managed to smile for the day's self-shot. Unfortunately none of our strategies seemed to work; the wheel rub was just as bad if not worse. We eventually switched back, resigned ourselves to a slow and squeaky ride, and took solace in the existence of a good bike shop near Anne's house.
As we entered rural Ohio the cars were replaced by tractors and the buildings by hay bales. School buses apparently grew in rows along with the crops.
It was peaceful and open, and the yellow buggy signs reminded me of home. The charm soon wore off, of course; picturesque farmland is still pretty boring. For a while we occupied ourselves by watching three soaring birds that followed us for miles, circling far above us. We couldn't tell if they were hawks or buzzards, i.e. whether we looked like easy prey or near corpses.
We were hungry ourselves, so we stopped for a picnic lunch in a park pavilion near Quaker City (not actually a city). We had bagels with peanut butter - I of course added honeynut cheerios to mine - and talked to Steve and Daniel, two local guys who were eating at the next table. On our way out, the already charming park won a very special place in my heart by offering a freshly emptied and cleaned port-a-potty. I never thought I would be so lucky in my lifetime.
After a long stretch of riding in the hot, open country, we happened upon the Sugar Shack, which (like all of the other Sugar Shacks I've been to over the years) had delicious milkshakes. They also had - if you can believe it - a freshly cleaned port-a-potty. Lightning does strike twice. To add to its charm, the store's walls were decorated with the dancing food products that you see in movies about old movies and the parking lot bumpers were painted with rainbows.
In the dining area was, of all things, an exercise machine. I assume the owners were storing it there to save space or use it after hours, but I liked to imagine customers hopping on it after finishing some giant dessert. We had our own way to burn calories, however, so we reluctantly climbed back on the bike. I was glad to be into gently rolling hills but my foot, achilles, and knee pain wasn't letting up yet.
We soon found the holy grail of touring cyclists: a paved and shaded bike path...
...followed all too soon by the bane of any touring cyclist's existance: endless road construction.
I'm not exaggerating by much when I say endless. There were at least 20 miles of cones, signs, and dangerously narrowed road for less than a mile of actual work being done. When we asked one of the flaggers how long the construction lasted she just laughed at us and then gave us a very bitchy "No" when we asked to ride in the coned off section of the road where it was safer. I hate ODOT already.
Finally we emerged from the construction zone of doom and hit some really nice riding, including downhills and even a bike lane (!). Unfortunately around mile 90 it started to rain. It was getting colder and we were moving quickly, so the drops felt like needles striking my chest. Soon the needles turned into knives and we saw lightning on the horizon, so we turned around and sped to the nearest shelter: Pitter Patter Daycare Center, which was closed but had a wonderfully ample awning. We joined two motorcyclists who were also taking cover. We chatted for a while and through them found out that Michael Jackson had just died. Soon they decided to risk it and headed out into the rain and the setting sun. We decided to wait longer and were treated to two visitors: a woman who saw us riding apparently drove back to her house to pick up her husband, an avid recumbent rider, so that he could see our bike and make sure that we had found cover. We had a great time chatting to them and when they left we headed out as well, bearing with the light rain and keeping an eye on the lightning. At the next shelter, a gas station, we called Anne to let her know where we were. We considered asking her to rescue us, but we thought we had a good chance of making it. Besides, I had never broken the 100 mile mark before, and we were so close. "Let's get you that century" Kyle said as we headed back into the storm.
We soon realized that we had made a grave mistake. The rain picked up, the lightning closed in, and we found ourselves in the dark and surrounded by trees with no shelter in sight. We were more than ready to call for rescue now, but we had to find somewhere to stop safely first. I tried to find something, anything on the Garmin as we rode, but it's hard to operate a touch screen through a plastic bag. We started to see lightning on all sides of us and I became truly terrified that we would be struck. I prayed for a shelter, or at least avoidance of an electrifying death, but all we could see were trees and an empty road. We passed a park with no structures whatsoever, and buildings that were behind impenetrable fences. And then, finally, there it was: an illuminated steeple in the distance. We tore off towards it with a sigh of relief. In a final moment of insanity we took the long way around the church, a big loop that brought our mileage for the day to that all important 100, and then we quickly ducked under the front door's small awning.
It turns out we had already done a day over 100 miles on the way to Bedford -- thanks to odometer problems we didn't know it at the time -- but doesn't 100 miles at 10mph on day 10 have a nice, round, ring to it?...Maybe?...
Happy to have completed a century but much happier to be under cover, I threw on all the dry clothes I had and huddled on the rubber mat. As we waited I played with my camera and the rain and the lights, and nearly jumped out of my skin when a train went roaring past at the edge of the church parking lot.
It was still raining when Anne arrived in her family's truck. We climbed in and Anne presented us with towels and tupperware containers of food as we made our way towards warmth, safety, and the comforts of home. We were about to have a two day break, and once again we needed it.
| posted at: 08:26 |
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Thursday, June 25, 2009
Since there isn't much between St Clairsville and Newark, we decided to ride the entire 115 miles or so to Anne's house. Since we both remember Ohio as flat, we were optimistic we'd be able to get it done in no time.
However, not being crazy, we also started at dawn, knowing this ride would take us a long time, especially since our back tire was still rubbing on the frame. No matter how much time I spent truing it, by an hour into the next ride we were out of true and rubbing.
There wasn't much to see early in the ride. Enjoy this picture of a large chair.
After Morristown US-40 merges with the highway, so we turned south on OH-149. For the most part it was a very pleasant ride, the back tire just kept worrying me. Eventually I managed to convince myself that the problem was how heavy we were. First solution was to try putting me in the front and Jillian in the back, in order to bring more weight onto the front tire.
Riding with Jillian as captain was a bit like riding in a kayak. The whole front of the bike kept shifting back and forth. After three or four miles I finally discovered that it was because of where she kept her eyes. She had a tendency to watch where the front of the bike was (the boom), and see if was staying centered on the line at the side of the road. Like driving, you actually go a lot straighter if you look at the road fifty or sixty yards ahead. Once we got that straightened out, things were a lot better.
After ten miles switched we came to Barnesville. Still worried about weight, we took all of our gear apart and put everything we thought we could do without in a box to mail home. Our frisbee, my Tevas, and my notepad all went. Unfortunately, since I'm actually writing this in early August, I don't remember most of the other items. But the important thing is that it came out to eight pounds of stuff. Eight pounds! But I also noticed that our wheel problems continued to worsen despite moving me to the front. We opted to switch back for the remainder of the ride.
We also noticed that Ohio isn't all flat.
The road we were taking didn't have much of a shoulder, but it didn't matter at all. The drivers in Ohio were nicer than anywhere else we'd been. They would always wait until it was safe before passing, they'd give you plenty of room, and they wouldn't honk.
We stopped in Quaker City for lunch at a park pavilion, where we were joined by town workers a few years younger than us. Quaker City was everything I had hoped for in small town Ohio. However, I might just be remembering this town because it had an amazing roadside experience - clean, almost new port-a-potties.
We rode a number of miles in picturesque farmland. It would have been a perfect ride if it had been just a bit cooler.
In order to cool off we stopped for ice cream at the Sugar Shack. They had a fun wall.
They also had exercise and stereo equipment in the separate building where you could eat in air conditioning.
Just before we reached I-70 and subsequently US-40 I spotted a bike trail off to the side of the road. We immediately hopped right on.
Shade, flat riding, fresh pavement - Ohio was amazing. We even had Mailpouch barns to look at.
In Cambridge we passed the Frisbee Motel. Tempting.
As we got out of Cambridge we ran into seemingly endless construction. Ten miles of single lane, no shoulder construction. To make things even better, we couldn't see even a single person working. After a mile of that, we got frustrated and rode through the center lanes.
This stressed me out, since I was all nervous about having highway speed traffic on either side of me. We stopped to calm me down at another S bridge.
Then we had more of the same. Note the grates on the shoulder. Perfect for destroying a wheel.
Finally we actually saw people doing work. The flag lady said we were only half way through and got incredibly offended, like we were the stupidest people in the entire world when we asked if we could ride in the closed lane. It was really offensive. There's no shoulder or shoulder with grates everywhere, traffic is moving at 60mph, and there's an empty lane? We saw maybe, maybe, 50 yards of construction.
Fortunately, Ohio drivers and incredible and no one ran us over. Many of them even drove through the closed lanes to get around us. I love Ohio drivers. I hate OHDOT.
We saw a lot of weird purple boxes on the side of the road, and had been wondering what they were since at least Somerset, PA. Anne's mother told us later they were to measure how infested the woods were with Emerald Ash Borers.
In Zanesville we were climbing a hill when Jillian saw a billboard that said, "Rates need lowering?" She said, "In Pennsylvania, that would say 'Rates need lowered?'" I thought she was referencing the fortune cookie from two nights previous. It turns out she was just referencing the way people in some parts of PA drop the to be verb. Eitherway, I laughed and nearly crashed the bike. Weird things get funny on the bike. They get extra funny going uphill.
We turned north up OH-146. It also started to sprinkle and we played what we call the Shelter Game. Every time one of us spotted something that could become shelter in a storm, we'd memorize the mileage so that we'd always know how far we might need to ride back to find a roof.
By the time we got to Nashport the storm had developed into a full on thunderstorm. We took shelter at a preschool with a couple of motorcyclists.
Knowing that it was less than twenty miles to Granville (where we hoped to stay), we made a break for it when the rain stopped. We rode on to a gas station at the intersection of 146 and 16. There we spoke with Anne, who offered to drive out and pick us up. Foolishly, we refused.
We rode a few miles further before the skies opened up on us. I spotted a spire and we headed to the Marne United Methodist Church. Fortunately they had a covered entryway big enough to drive under. We stashed our trailer there, put on the more clothing, and did a few laps in the parking lot in order to make our mileage say exactly 100 - Jillian had never ridden a century before.
We caved and called Anne, who drove through the most violent rain I've seen in a long time to pick us up. Lightening struck things on all sides of us. But Anne arrived with food! After a twenty minute ride to her house, she fed us even more before we took quick showers and crashed in the guest room upstairs.
| posted at: 08:02 |
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Wednesday, June 24, 2009
 |
| Stoker's Log Day Nine |
| 6/24/09 |
| From Washington, PA |
| To St. Clairsville, OH |
| 44.5 miles |
| 9.1 avg mph |
We weren't planning on spending extra time in the room this morning; anyone who has stayed in a Motel 6 will probably understand why. Unfortunately I was right about the wet laundry, so instead of getting an early start we spent over an hour creatively drying our clothes.
On our way out we passed - surprise! - a guest laundry room. Somehow I managed to keep from strangling anyone. I'm sure my pedaling felt bitter though.
As we rode through downtown Washington we heard an unfamiliar voice yell out our names. I was pretty sure our fame hadn't spread that far - front page of the Bedford Post or not - so we pulled over very confused. It turned out to be our friend Anne's mom, who was visiting Washington but will be hosting us in Grandville tomorrow. She was having coffee with a friend who pointed out the "strange bicycle" passing by, and Anne's mother put two and two together and went running outside to find out if it was us. She treated us to coffee and pastries and her friend Mrs. Young told us about her daughter's bicycle and biathlon adventures. We also talked about the sorry state of public education, a conversation we seem to be having a lot these days. We asked about the bike shop in town, since we wanted to be carrying more spare tires and tubes, and Mrs. Young said she knew of it and gave us general directions. On the way out we encountered a vehicle even stranger and cooler than our own: the T3 Motion, or policeman Segway.
We chatted to its owner for a bit before heading further into town. The thing was, we just could not find the bike shop. We headed up and down the street (which was of course on a hill) but found nothing; the address we had corresponded to a bank parking lot. We even called Sheila to double check our information on the shop, and everything seemed to be in order. Finally we made one more check of the whole road and then gave up and rode on. I don't understand why we're having such bad luck with bike shops lately.
We made one more stop at a Rite Aid to buy me a second knee brace and insoles to cut down on my hot spots. Neither really worked, but it was entertaining to sit under a tent in the parking lot cutting the insoles with a pocket knife while our bag of still damp laundry hung out in the sun.
Finally we got going on the National Road, which we would take all day (no cue sheets needed!). We were excited to leave the peaks of Pennsylvania for gently rolling hills, and even more excited to coast down a long downhill into a flat riverbank road in West Virginia. It's the first time in a long time that we enjoyed the riding itself. I can't believe it given the general terrain of the state, but West Virginia will probably be the flattest, easiest state of the whole trip. (It also gets points for the restaurant with a large "Opening Soon?" sign.)
Along the way we saw what we thought was a cyclist repairing his bike, so we stopped to offer help. Turns out he was just stretching, but I'm really glad we stopped to talk. He solved the mystery of the Washington bike shop - it's been closed for over a year - and directed us to a bike shop and trail in Wheeling. There we bought tires and tubes from two great kids and I also picked up Nike cycling insoles. I was sad but not surprised when they didn't really work either; I'm going to be mailing a lot of insoles home. We found our way to the bike path, and then found our way onto it again when we ran into construction equipment and ambiguous 'trail closed' signs. It was entirely worth it. The path was paved and often shaded, and included (not scary) tunnels, bridges, and a viaduct.
Wheeling Island itself boasted two bridges, one a suspension bridge with a walkway that we crossed.
Overall it was a fantastic riding day. We climbed out of the valley and finished the day with more energy than we've had in quite some time. Things are looking up, especially since tomorrow we travel to Anne's house. We can't wait to see her, her family, and her hometown...and to get a break day!
| posted at: 07:29 |
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Wednesday, June 24, 2009
We were pretty pumped to be riding today, since despite not doing a lot of miles we were going to do three states in a day.
However, we had this minor problem before we could go anywhere. None of the laundry was dry. Jillian hung things out on the bike, while I borrowed a hair dryer from the office (They're not in every room at Motel 6) and went nuts trying to dry clothes.
Our next quest was to try to find a bike shop, so that our wheel and handlebars could get fixed. We spent an hour riding around Washington looking for the bike shop. We did get to see Washington and Jefferson College, which looked very nice. In fact, most of Washington looked pretty nice, and the cops had sweet rides.
While we were searching for the bike shop, someone ran out of a coffee shop and shouted "Jillian and Kyle!" This confused us, since we don't know anyone in Washington. But we stopped, to find that Anne's mother (who we'll be staying with tomorrow night) was having coffee with a friend. It turns out that her friend Mrs Young had pointed out a funny looking bike, and her mother had put it all together. They treated us to coffee, conversation, and directions to the bike shop.
We set off, determined to find the bike shop. Unfortunately, all we could find at the address (even after calling Sheila, for more clarification) was a bank and a parking lot. Frustrated, we rode to Rite Aid.
Here Jillian decided to do something about her feet, so she bought 4 pair of insoles for her shoes (they were buy 2 get 2 or something - to be honest I don't remember the deal, but financially it made sense). So we chopped up the insoles with my knife and fit them to her shoes, only to find out they pushed her toes into the top of the shoe. They weren't going to work.
From Washington we got on US-40 West, which we were going to be riding most of the way to St Louis. 40 has a number of S bridges preserved. An S bridge is perpendicular to a stream, but at an angle to the road. They were cheaper to build than a bridge at an angle to the stream.
40 also has regular mile markers.
Not too long later we crossed into West Virginia. 40 follows the Little Wheeling creek to Tridelphia, where it turns north. West Virginia became the best ride we've had yet - it was all downhill, losing about 600 feet over about 9 miles.
Following the recommendation of a cyclist we came across, we stopped at the bike shop almost on the corner of WV-88 and US-40 after stopping for lunch at Subway. Unfortunately this bike shop couldn't repair anything for us, but they were kind enough to sell us a spare tire. Jillian also tried some cycling specific insoles from Nike, though they ended up not working either. The two very young employees of the shop were also kind enough to point us to the local bike path.
We followed their advice and got on the path less than a mile away from the shop. Unfortunately, this route isn't reflected in the map on the route page. Originally I'd planned on taking 40 through a tunnel and a town, but everyone said this would be very dangerous. The bike path followed the old railroad route.
The bike path got rather confusing, as parts of it were marked closed but not actually closed. We were very careful to watch what the locals were doing and just followed them. It took us over a bridge, through a tunnel, and past some really nice areas of Wheeling.
Wheeling was a very bike friendly city, and we were able to follow bike paths all the way to the riverfront.
I was very hopeful that Wheeling would turn out to be an awesome city, but unfortunately a lot of it seemed to be falling apart. But they did have some really awesome parks and minor league hockey.
The National Road goes across a really awesome bridge onto Wheeling island.
Remembering our experience at Washington Crossing, we opted to walk the bike.
Then we were on Wheeling island, which wasn't as nice as I'd hoped. We crossed into Ohio over another bridge not much later. From Bridgeport, ohio we rode right up and out of the river valley on 40, making pretty good time. It also meant we started and finished at almost exactly the same elevation.
We spent the night at a Super 8, nearly across from the Dennys where we had dinner.
| posted at: 07:29 |
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Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Today started with yet more rolling hills - nothing much interesting to report. Surprisingly enough, we still hadn't lost enough altitude, so before long we had yet another long downhill. Sadly, this was likely to be the very last one we had before the West.
Our first town of the day was Mount Pleasant. There was a bike shop here, and we were hoping to talk to someone about the shaky handlebars as well as pick up a spare tire and some tubes. Unfortunately, the guy that fixes bikes wasn't in, so we had no choice but to ride on, handlebars shaking a little more all the time.
This part of PA seems to have a series of steep, but not terribly long hills. It made for very painful riding, since we were really hoping that we were all done with the big hills. In between the hills are rivers. As we were riding into Monongahela, we raced a coal barge (We won)
Since it was well past time for lunch, we stopped at a Sheetz, where we had a lengthy conversation with Mick, a retired steelworker. Mick was very nervous about our riding 136, since traffic moves very fast and there's a very limited shoulder. He was right, but there also wasn't much traffic when we rode it. The terrain looked nice, but it was more rolling hills.
There was a lot of very picturesque farmland, and Jillian spent a lot of time shooting pictures of cows and hay bales. I tried to ride away, but she spotted me.
On our way into town we passed the SPCA during a a bit of construction. Anxious to get off the road a while, I decided we'd stop and look at the dogs. I fell in love with a certain German Shepherd, who was also the only quiet dog in the bunch.
We rolled into Washington pretty early, which was good, since we were entirely out of laundry. Jillian took charge of hand washing the laundry.
We found out the next morning that the motel had guest laundry and we just hadn't noticed. Meanwhile, I tried to fix the bike some.
We were having quite a bit of trouble with our wheel. The tire we had on the back was a little large, and there was less than 3/16 of an inch of clearance on either side. If we hit even one bump the tire was out of true and we'd rub. We had been rubbing for several days, and trying to true the wheel at every stop was becoming my new hobby. I also took a few moments to tune up some other things that had been bothering me a while.
Dinner was at the Chinese Buffet nearly across the street. Food was pretty good, but the fortune cookies were so much better.
| posted at: 07:29 |
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Tuesday, June 23, 2009
 |
| Stoker's Log Day Eight |
| 6/23/09 |
| From Donegal, PA |
| To Washington, PA |
| 52 miles |
| ? avg mph |
There have always been things I dislike about my homestate: Philadelphia sports teams, for example. But I never truly hated being in PA until this trip. How did I never notice the state's horrendous hills? And why do they never end? We didn't cover a lot of mileage today, which let us get in before dark for once, but it was still a hard ride. I don't know how many more mountains we (and our knees and the blisters from our knee braces) can take.
We also discovered this evening that we've been slowed for two days or more by a mechanical problem: the wheel is out of true, or spinning crooked, and rubbing against the frame. The misalignment explains our speedometer malfunction. It has also been slowing us down, as if we were riding with the brake half on. The Appalachians would have been beastly climbs regardless, but we managed to make them even harder. I can't decide if I'll be elated or depressed if tomorrow is significantly easier now that Kyle has fixed the problem. I'm just relieved he was able to fix it, especially since the bike shop that we were counting on in Mt. Pleasant (which was much steeper than it was pleasant) was without their mechanic for the day.
We did, however, make several new friends. At the Sheetz we met Mick, a motorcyclist and retired steel worker who told us which roads to avoid and offered his phone number if we ran into any trouble. We also bought really cheap chocolate bars from the friendly owners of a closing mini-market. I'm pretty sure Kyle's favorite moment of the day, however, was when we stopped by a Humane Society with cages open to the street. It was full of loud, aggressive dogs... except for two quiet ones: a black lab and a german shepherd, the two breeds Kyle wants to adopt. I'm not convinced that he didn't set up the whole thing...
I found animal friends as well; I stopped to take a few photos of cows and suddenly the whole herd was wandering over to say hello. Those bovines do love the limelight.
We made it to Washington in time to go to dinner when normal people go to dinner, which was very exciting. Unfortunately we had to follow our satisfying meal at a chinese buffet with a marathon of laundry... hand washed in the ice bucket. Fun times.
I don't know if all of it will be dry by tomorrow, so we could be starting a long day in wet clothes. But whatever happens throughout this long adventure I can always take solace in the important message brought to me by my poorly written fortune cookie.
| posted at: 07:27 |
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Monday, June 22, 2009
Originally we'd planned on riding to Washington, PA today, a distance of 108 miles. But after yesterday, we decided that sort of distance would be pretty much impossible. The new goal would be Donegal, PA, just sixty miles away. We also decided this would mean we could sleep in a bit and have a sit down meal downtown.
The owner of the motel we stayed at (I think it was Wild Bill, but I don't remember) recommended a bike shop and a restaurant in town. Our first stop was the bike shop. The handlebars were acting a bit shaky. The mechanic took a look at it, but he had no idea what the problem could be. Everything looked tight. So we rode on, with me in a bad mood. Next stop was the restaurant downtown. I wish I could remember the name, but all I really remember was this genius Velcro screen door which kept all the bugs out but made it easy to walk in and out.
Breakfast, which was quite delicious and very inexpensive, was rather slow. That gave us plenty of time to interact with people. First Wild Bill came in and was glad to see we'd followed his breakfast suggestion. Then we talked with quite a few people that were curious about the bike. Finally we talked with one woman who was so curious she called the paper, who came over and interviewed us (Read the Article). As we were riding away from breakfast we got caught up in another conversation with Wild Bill and his friend.
We weren't able to get going until almost 11, which got even later when we stopped at the Giant Coffee Pot.
Further on, we met a giant herald.
We did a lot of climbing on our way out of Bedford. A lot more than we expected.
We're hoping that Pennsylvania will have the worst hills of the trip and that we can get them over with first. We have talked with a lot of people that have gone cross country, and they all agree that the Rockies are really high and often have up to twenty mile long hills. But on those you just pick a low gear and ride for a few hours steady, then get a pleasant downhill. In PA, you get only 3-5 mile long hills, but they're up to twice as steep in places. The downhills feel short, and the minute you're down the hill you have to climb all over again. The hills aren't as tall, but they're even worse to ride. Sometimes you don't even get a nice view!
Wild Bill had warned us the hills to the West of Bedford were worse than the ones to the East. Foolishly, we didn't believe him. This was what we could see of what would become the worst hill we've done so far. At the top was one of these:
Except then there wasn't a downhill. It was level a minute, and then we were back uphill. We had to stop again soon.
We also passed a combination Bed and Breakfast/Vacuum Cleaner Repair shop. Finally we summited.
This was apparently the site of a ship hotel.
We apparently had not summited. We did another mile of climbing.
Finally we were at the top. Except we found that we were now in the Laural Highlands. There would be no huge downhill, we'd just stay up on top of a plateau for many hours. The road became very straight.
In the midst of a giant wind farm installation we found a Subway. It was very hot, so the Subway, with AC and cold drinks, was very appreciated. We turned off US-30 here, and headed past Indian Lake.
From there we went to the Flight 93 Memorial. It is on a quiet, windswept hill. No one talks, you simply stand on the hill, looking at what was left, and staring at the field where the plane hit.
After we left the memorial we realized that we were running out of time. We started riding really hard through rural Pennsylvania roads. One road we took had loose dogs at every turn. We had to mace our first dog, a chocolate lab. I felt awful, but we can't risk a dog attack again, and if the dog turns toward the bike either he or us can easily get hurt. Looking back on it, I really don't see another option, but I still feel bad.
Just before we got to Somerset, PA we stopped for some more water. We were both exhausted.
Unfortunately, we still had a long way to go. We ended up climbing another huge hill at twilight and barely making it off the Laural Highlands by dark. When we finally saw the Day's Inn Sign in Donegal, I don't think we could have been any happier.
We had dinner at a McDonalds, since it was the only thing open at 10:15. I'm not even sure that we talked during dinner, so much as we just stared at each other and wondered how a rest day turned into a second epic ride.
| posted at: 22:00 |
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Monday, June 22, 2009
|
| Stoker's Log Day Seven |
| 6/22/09 |
| From Bedford, PA |
| To Donegal, PA |
| 59 miles |
| 8-9? avg mph |
After yesterday's adventures and our dinner of cheese cubes and wafer cakes, we needed to start today with a big, hearty breakfast, even if it delayed our start. The Bread Basket Cafe in downtown Bedford certainly delivered.
While there we felt a bit like celebrities. We rested the bike just outside the restaurant and it got a lot of attention, including from the people at the next table who recognized it from the hotel and from an older couple who asked if they could contact the local newspaper. A few minutes later, whadayaknow, a reporter showed up to interview us. Hopefully we'll make the Bedford Post! We also ran into our motel proprietor, "Wild Bill," who seemed to know everyone in town. Much later than we initially planned, we reluctantly left Bedford and got on the road.
We made a brief stop to see the giant coffee pot.
Also a giant elf herald.
The strangest sight of the day? The shirtless rotund man in suspenders who emerged from a car to shout "He's not pedaling!" in a perfect imitation of Vicini from The Princess Bride. I couldn't make up these characters if I tried.
It wasn't long into the ride before we met more hills...surprise! They weren't quite as bad as yesterday but they remained brutally steep and miles long. You know you're dealing with serious hills when they come with truck warnings.
The hills were also scarce on amenities. When we made it over and down an exhausting hill and saw a Subway in the midst of a construction zone we felt like we'd found a miraculous oasis. I also found hope in a Bed and Breakfast / Oriental Carpet Cleaner, the only business we saw during a long climb. I didn't understand their business combo, but the important thing was that we weren't destroyed enough to want to stop and stay there. For one reason or another we wanted to keep climbing.
As Kyle pointed out, at least the climb up Mt. Ararat rewarded us with a view.
It also used to have a hotel shaped like a ship until an arsonist destroyed it a few years ago.
By far the best part of the ride was visiting the Flight 93 Memorial. After seeing it I can't believe that I had never been there before, and that I might never have gone if it hadn't been almost on our way. No permanent memorial has been constructed yet, so the space isn't filled with statues and plaques and signs. Instead there is a small wall covered in mementos and messages left by visitors, a row of wooden angels with the names of those who died, and an American flag off in the distance, marking where the plane fell. It was beautiful, and real, and unifying, and I wiped away tears as I circled the wall several times, thinking about the person behind each angel, and the person behind each object left to honor them, and especially about the child who gave up his action figure.
Kyle and I didn't talk much about the memorial, but we understood what it meant to each other. It was something to hold onto during the long, difficult day.
Make that a long, difficult day punctuated by moments of panic. In fact, I'd like to address the residents of Pompey Hill Road: Why do you all need to own intimidating dogs, and what do you do to make them so angry at cyclists? (Except for the friendly Mennonite family whose giant dog was a perfect gentleman; thank you.) Ironically, out of all of the overly aggressive dogs we encountered, the only one we had to spray with Halt was a chocolate lab. The dog tore off running as soon as he saw us and stayed hard on the chase, refusing to respond to his owners' yelling and nearly running us into a car. (Partly because I was busy freaking out and being very little help.) I think Kyle will always feel a bit sheepish admitting that he maced a chocolate lab, but we didn't have much choice and our patience with dogs was running very low.
Really our patience with everything was running low, especially after we (or googlemaps) kept miscalculating distances. Once again we found ourselves riding in the dark...down a massive hill at 40-50 mph. (I'd love to tell you our exact speed, but the speedometer still breaks whenever we top 40). That last part may sound like fun, and honestly it was pretty exhilarating, but sometimes I would get distracted by that whole fearing for our lives thing. It was actually safer to go as fast as possible, since that meant cars didn't have to try to pass us, but adrenaline doesn't always listen to that kind of logic. I had no control in the stoker position, but that was actually better since I trust Kyle's steering much more than my own. It did turn me into a wind and bug shield though, which was highly unpleasant. I don't know how many bugs died on my chest and face that night, but I do know it was disgusting to have to pick them off when we finally made it to the Days Inn. Thankfully we were asleep as soon as our freshly showered heads hit the pillows, which, incidentally felt like clouds.
| posted at: 07:27 |
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Sunday, June 21, 2009
We started early today, knowing that no matter what we did, it was going to be a very long day. Directly west of Frederick are some pretty big hills. In fact, we think today will be one of the hardest days of this entire trip.
The first hill is one that I climb all the time. Roughly 650 feet over 2.8 miles. That's about a 4.8% average grade. We climbed it without any serious problems, and had a good time surveying the valley ahead of us.
After a brief stop in a park we were off to tackle climb two. Unfortunately, we could see this climb coming from a long way away, and the temperature had started to pick up. We had a short conversation here where we decided (perhaps out of Jillian's stubbornness) that we were going to do this ride, no matter what.
This climb ended up being 550 feet over 2.1 miles - again around 4.8%. Nothing too bad yet, but with the constant rolling hills between, we were feeling a little tired. At the bottom we stopped at a Sheetz for breakfast. Here we ran into some cyclists on their way to a race in Williamsport, MD. The were had also apparently been another race in Hagerstown. We were missing the races by a matter by a day, which is rather frustrating. They were impressed by what we were doing, as were impressed by them.
It's a long, flat road to Hagerstown, which was good. We ended up having to backtrack around the city a bit, since we had trouble finding the road we needed to get out. As we were headed out the weather started to look iffy, but by riding pretty hard all the way to Mercersburg, we were able to stay North of it.
We decided to stop in Mercersburg for lunch. First we rode to the Mercersburg Academy campus, which was beautiful.
We had a bit of trouble finding somewhere to eat in Mercersburg. We were there on a Sunday, and the entire town seemed empty. We finally found an open gas station, got some drinks, and then were off.
Our next stop was Buchanan's Birthplace State Park. We rode a little way off the road to it, but stopped soon because we were running out of time. We did snack on some food though.
Then we started the climb up Cove Gap. This climb worked out to 1150 feet over 3.1 miles - a 7% grade. It would have been a totally manageable hill, except for the trailer and the two previous climbs. For the first time in ten years I walked a bike on a hill. Not that far, only for maybe a quarter mile, but I was too tired to push it any farther. The view from the top was awesome.
From here we had a very fast downhill. Jillian tried to record it as a movie on the camera, but we're yet to see if the footage is any good. We did have a problem where halfway down the computer stopped recording speed. It seems that when our speed breaks 40mph, the computer stops working.
At the bottom was the town of McConnellsburg. There wasn't really much of a town, but I did insist on stopping for a Slushie. Then it was off to climb the next hill, which we could see coming all the way from town. This climb seemed to twist back and forth some. This climb came in two sections. The first was only 0.6 miles long, but at an average 7.8% grade. Again, I asked Jillian if we could walk the bike.
At the top of this first section, I noticed the handlebars were feeling a little shaky. If you're pushing a Pino, push by the stoker's seat - not the captains. The shaking isn't bad enough to really be worried about, but we definitely need to have it looked at.
Just half a mile later came the next section of hill - another mile at 6.5%. We climbed this one, and had a not so pleasant downhill, since it was getting late and we weren't sure if we'd make it to Bedford before 10pm, when the hotel closed up for the night.
At the bottom we had to decide if we were going to take the short, but steep, route to Breezewood or if we were going to take the longer route via the abandoned PA turnpike. Perhaps foolishly, we thought it'd be faster to take the turnpike. Unfortunately, the route we took involved a bunch of dirt roads. We'd been on the dirt road for three minutes when we were chased by a dog, which we outran. Riding on dirt got really old, really fast.
Soon we weren't really sure where we were. Fortunately we ran into a couple (and their dog) who did some cycling touring. They pointed us to the road we needed (which we had ridden past, not even seeing it hidden in the forest). This road led to another dirt road, which had a huge, stone covered hill. We walked the bike here too, but only because we couldn't find enough traction to keep going up the hill.
Eventually, we found pavement again.
A few miles later we hit the trail, which was very well marked.
It was a little eerie riding on an abandoned highway.
Even more eerie were the tunnels. The longest was about a mile, and had a crown to it, so that you couldn't see the end of the tunnel until you were close to halfway.
The miles between tunnels were spent avoiding large potholes and climbing easy grade hills. Finally, we reached Breezewood. I had originally intended for us to ride a circuitous route to Bedford, in order to avoid a highway, but now we were short on time. I called my parents and asked them to ask the PA State Police if it was legal to ride US-30 the whole way to Bedford. We rode on a little while before hearing back that yes, it was legal.
So we rode as hard as we could, since there was no way we were going to make it in before dark and a possibility we wouldn't make it before ten. Unfortunately, we got to Everett and discovered that you can't bike 30, you need to go through town. It looked like a nice place, but we had to fly through it.
We arrived in Bedford around 9:30 and started racing out of town toward the hotel. Jillian called her mother and had her call the hotel and beg them to stay open long enough for us to arrive. At 9:45 we coasted in and checked into Judy's Motel. Jillian hopped into the shower and I set off to find somewhere to get some food. Unfortunately, the pizza place (and only place to eat we saw) closed at 10 and I was a few minutes late. So I grabbed some refrigerated sandwiches and cheese from a gas station and walked back. It wasn't a pleasant dinner, but we were so tired and hungry we didn't care.
We also decided that although we didn't have an exact count on miles for the day (I found out later it was 102), there was no way we could do a 100 mile day the next day. So we decided to shorten our route and only travel to Donegal, PA. At only sixty miles, hopefully we'd get some rest.
| posted at: 22:00 |
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Sunday, June 21, 2009
 |
| Stoker's Log Day Six |
| 6/21/09 |
| From Frederick, MD |
| To Bedford, PA |
| 102 miles |
| 8-9 avg mph? (malfunctioning speedometer) |
As we climbed onto the bike this morning Kyle was still having doubts about the trip, and it's not like I was clicking my heels and leaping into the seat either. We had a good litmus test approaching though; early in the trip we would need to climb a massive hill. "If we start tackling that hill and decide that we can't take one more pedal stroke," Kyle pointed out, "we can always turn around and coast home again." We never did abandon the trip, which means we're even more dedicated, stubborn, or stupid than we realized, because the ride gave us countless reasons to turn back. Today was epic...meaning it yielded good stories (and what I expect will be a looooong blog entry) but was horrendous to experience in person.
One of our greatest cycling accomplishments before this trip was climbing what we call Hell Hill in Frederick, which took two tries...on unloaded road bikes. Today we would be climbing a different part of Hell Hill with our heavy tandem and without standing. We almost lucked out on the weight issue; Kyle's parents had planned to meet us in Frederick so that his father could ride with us and his mother could carry some of our equipment in her car and rendevous with us at the hotel. Unfortunately severe weather up north kept them from coming, so we were on our own.
With a slow, steady cadence we managed to make it over that hill and coasted into a Sheetz, where we ran into some cyclists who had just finished a criterion race nearby. (Really wish we had known about that!) Unfortunately that was only the beginning of our climbing for the day. There were four massive hills on the agenda and a lot of rolling terrain in between. It seemed like every summit brought sight of another climb in the distance.
After the second giant climb we had a brief break while we looked around Mercersburg Academy, where our frisbee friend Tammy attended high school. She never mentioned that the campus was ridiculously beautiful and could rival most colleges.
We called Tammy and she suggested some nice restaurants in the area, but we had no time for a sit-down lunch. Instead we ate standing up in the entrance to a park because we didn't have the time or energy to find the actual picnic facilities.
We were in such a hurry because of our motel, a mom and pop establishment that absolutely, positively did not accept check-ins after 10 pm. We didn't really expect to take that long -- we started at 6:30 in the morning, after all -- but we wanted a healthy cushion since the worst climb of the day was yet to come.
Hill #3 made Hell Hill look like Happytimes Hill of Rainbows and Ice Cream. It was steep and seemingly neverending, a mindbogglingly grueling climb in ever-increasing heat. It's hard to describe the experience because in order to survive you can't let your mind fully comprehend the climb while it's happening. I started counting sets of eight in my head in time to the pedal strokes; I have no idea why. But it helped me keep pushing and we kept crawling forward. It was hard to believe that the climb would end before our legs gave out. We started to understand why everyone who rides the Trans America route says that the mountains in the east are worse to ride than the Rockies. The Rockies are longer, but less steep, so as long as you reconcile yourself to the fact that you'll be going up hill for a long time it isn't too hard to settle back and just keep a steady pedal. But these Pennsylvania mountains, the misleadingly pleasant sounding Laurel Highlands, are steep and brutal and out to destroy cyclists. At two points we had to abandon our No Walking Rule and drag the loaded bicycle up the steepest sections so that our knees didn't pop out of their sockets. As soon as possible we would climb back on the bike to do leg press after leg press, unable to think or see straight as the climb wore on. When we finally reached the peak we were too exhausted to really celebrate, especially with the spirit-crushing knowledge that we had one big hill left to go, but we did take time to breath, smile, and enjoy the view.
The downhills were of course also steep, which made for rather intense descents. We learned the important information that our speedometer stops working around 42 mph, presumably because the magnet on the wheel gets knocked out of alignment. We're pretty sure that we surpassed 50 mph on our steepest descent. I never in my life thought I would go that fast on a bicycle. It was both exhilirating and terrifying; I'm just glad that I wasn't steering and that Kyle kept us from plummeting off a cliff or something. Mostly the downhills just made us happy because we didn't have to pedal and we could make up a lot of time.
What didn't help with our race against the clock was the decision to ride the abandoned turnpike. Once a busy four lane highway with tunnels, the 20+ mile stretch is now open only to bikes. We were looking forward to the unique riding experience, but unfortunately we needed to find it first. The directions from Googlemaps took us into increasingly rural areas until all of the roads were dirt and most of them were unmarked. Luckily I was willing to ask for directions at one point (cough cough) or we would have had even more trouble. Once we completely left civilization for mud puddles and forest the Garmin became our greatest friend. I road with it in hand as we tried to figure out what was a road that would get us out of the woods and what was a trail that would only lead us farther in. When we finally emerged from the woods fate decided to slap us in the face with a steep hill of loose gravel and stones that was completely unridable. Kyle hauled the bike up to the crossroads and then did homage to the first pavement we'd seen in far too long.
Finally we found the abandoned turnpike, now called the Pike2Bike.
It was a fascinating experience, to have a once teeming highway to ourselves, to ride the wide stretches of pavement surrounded only by trees and the sounds of small wildlife. We even saw where the government had used the abandoned pike to test rumble strips and other road innovations. It must have been even cooler to ride the Pike2Bike years ago when it looked more like a functioning highway. I never realized how bad unmaintained pavement can become over time; major captain points to Kyle for navigating through cracks, holes, grass, reverse potholes, and the like while staring straight into the sun. The only other cyclist we saw was on a road bike going the opposite direction and I don't see how his tires survived.
I was most excited about the tunnels...until we were actually in one. The first tunnel was over a mile long, slightly sloped, and completely unlit, which meant that the light at the end of the tunnel was barely visible for most of the ride. It sounds like a metaphorical problem, but I found it incredibly unsettling. The only sounds were the echo of dripping water and our tires on the moist stones. The only light was from our headlamps, which had to be trained straight ahead so that we could veer around the plentiful potholes and puddles, leaving the rest of the tunnel in eerie darkness. As absurd as it sounds, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone or something was about to leap out of the blackness. We rode as quickly as we could while still being safe; the only thing worse than going through the tunnel slowly would be getting a flat halfway across. The tunnel and its darkness dragged on but eventually we saw the most beautful sight:
The second tunnel was shorter and therefore easier, but it still wasn't a pleasant experience. Afterward we had more uneven pavement and a gravel downhill to traverse and then we were through. Even though it was interesting and blessedly FLAT, we weren't sad to leave the Pike2Bike behind. It's worth a try (if you can find an easier way to access it than we did) but I would never ride it more than once.
Thanks to our trek over the mountains and through the woods and into the tunnels we were running hard up against our 10pm deadline. We looked into a shortcut via a highway but it was closed to bikes so we had to navigate on the fly as the sun set. We sped up and down rolling hills in the dark, pulling out the Garmin every few miles, and at 9:35 we entered Bedford. When we hadn't found the motel by 9:45 we started to panic, especially since we had left a commercial area for neighborhoods. We didn't have the motel phone number, so as we rode I called my mother and had her call the motel. Then we saw it, the glow of the Judy's Motel sign. I leapt off the bike and ran to the door to find Bill, the proprietor, grinning as he told my mom that the cyclists had arrived.
We had our warm bed for the night; we just needed a warm shower and warm dinner to feel like ourselves again. Kyle was amazing and gave me first shower while he set off to find food. I almost had a complete breakdown when the shower refused to be anything but ice cold, but finally it warmed up and I stepped into one of the most refreshing experiences of my life. Dinner didn't work out quite as well; the only thing nearby and open was the convenience store, so we made a meal of cheese cubes and wafer cakes. Still it all felt like a hazy miracle; I'm not sure what was powering our legs during those final miles other than desperation for a bed. We didn't know it at the time with our broken odometer, but we broke 100 miles today, hills and dirt roads and all.
EPIC
| posted at: 07:17 |
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Saturday, June 20, 2009
Our plan was to take Friday the 19th off and then meet my parents the next morning for the ride to Bedford, PA. We had always planned to have a day off in order to change our gear and spend a little more time route planning. However, we hadn't realized just how badly we needed it.
One of our major problems was space. We had been packing our yellow BOB bag as full as we possibly could. Then we were strapping a backpack to the top of it to store food. Unfortunately, this meant that every time we stopped for Jillian to take a picture with her nice camera we had to take all our gear apart and dig her camera out. Similarly, our tools and rain gear were totally inaccessible. And there wasn't even really enough space for our food.
One of our first stops was Wheelbase, a local cycling shop within walking distance in Frederick (remember - we had no car). We bought a trunk rack as well as a Trek Interchange. Though it was the most expensive trunk we could buy, it was by far the largest and attached perfectly to both the rack and the bike. We wouldn't even need to mess with velcro straps. Our new plan is to put the camera, GPS, food and tools in the trunk where we can easily get to them. We also picked up a set of really dorky looking velcro straps that I can put on my calves to keep my rainpants from getting caught in the gears and chain.
While we were at Wheelbase we investigated the pain in Jillian's feet. The Achilles pain seems like it's caused by the sandal, so we're going to bring her regular mountain shoes with us. The knee pain is probably just overuse, and the hotspots don't seem to have much of a solution.
We also gave Emily a call and got her to drive us to Sports Authority for Jillian to pick up some clothes. We also thought about water. I was getting a little bit of back pain from the Camelbak. I was thinking about using a Camelbak Unbottle and simply strapping it to Jillian's seat. Unfortunately all the Unbottles they had were either damaged or discolored.
While we were out we also stopped at Target to get a bright orange duffel bag with a ton of exterior pockets. We're hoping this gives us a lot more packing options for our stuff.
I also stopped by the Trail House, the local outfitter downtown. We bought a cube, which is perfect for packing our maps, electronic gear, and travel towel. I also added a few mesh bags for the rain gear.
Unfortunately, it was looking like rain for Saturday. My parents had no intention of driving all the way to Frederick just to ride in the rain all day. We also didn't want to start the rest of our trip on a rain day. So we pushed everything back. This also meant we'd be able to hang out with a bunch of our friends that night, instead of going to bed early to prepare for a long ride.
We started with an awesome cookout with David's burgers, then rapidly moved on to scooter racing.
Then it was indoors, to lots of rock band.
Most of Saturday was spent doing some more last minute packing/shopping. To be honest, it's been a few weeks, so Jillian says we went to Target and Sports Authority this day instead of on Friday. It all kind of runs together. We also uploaded some photos on worked on the website some. It felt really good to rest. We also had a brief conversation about if we really were going to do the rest of this trip.
Then we were off to bed, since Sunday's ride would start very early. My parents would not be joining us, since they both had to be back at work on Monday. We were a little worried too, since tomorrow's ride features the first big hills we've seen.
| posted at: 22:00 |
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Saturday, June 20, 2009
| Stoker's Log Days Three and Four |
| 6/19-20 |
| Rest Days in Frederick, MD |
Initially I thought we'd be hitting Frederick too early in the trip; why would we need a break after only three days? Turns out there are lots of reasons we needed a break. We used the time to make changes to our packing scheme, including replacing the backpack with a duffel bag and buying a Trek Interchange Trunk that snaps on behind Kyle's seat. It cost $100, which seems rather steep for a small piece of storage equipment, but the compartments are perfect for the camera, Garmin, and other items we need to be able to access quickly, and the sides fold out to become very useful paniers.
Our bodies also needed time off. Ever since I started riding the recumbent part of the tandem I've had what are known as hot spots. Essentially the pad of my foot heats up and tingles painfully, and if I keep riding eventually it feels like stabbing needles and the pain spreads into my middle toes and occasionally up my shin. Really not pleasant. Usually the problem solves itself as soon as I take my feet off the pedals, but after a really long ride I might have some residual numbness. According to the experts -- meaning the random forums that I googled -- a certain percentage of recumbent riders get hot spots, probably from pinched nerves, and most of them just learn to deal; there are suggestions for decreasing the pain but no universal or complete solutions. I suspect that changing to a larger pedal could help somewhat, but that would be so expensive and inconvenient (because Kyle and I could no longer switch positions) that I'm trying all other strategies first. I got the open-toed Shimano sandals to try to help the problem, and they did succeed in delaying the onset of hot spots by an hour or so each ride. Unfortunately they caused another problem: incredible achilles pain. Apparently the back strap is too tight or otherwise poorly fit to my foot because by the end of our second day every pedal downstroke was intensely painful and now there are bumps on my achilles that seem more than blisters. The guy at the bike shop thought it was a foot position problem and suggested I move closer to the pedals, but I was pretty sure the problem was the sandals. Some experimenting around Frederick proved me right so I decided to go back to my old shoes, the lesser evil. Hot spots at least come and go while the achilles pain hits me every pedal stroke and continues to hurt whenever I walk down stairs or do a dozen other things off of the bicycle. I'm becoming increasingly worried about my feet and whether they'll hold up for the whole trip, or even for the next few days. I expected blisters, ankle tightness, or arch pain -- familiar adversaries -- not strange pinching and possible nerve damage.
My achilles pain was one reason that we decided to take two days off instead of one; this plan also allowed us to spend more time with friends. On our first night off we grilled dinner with Emily, Lee, and Dave, and thoroughly enjoyed the summer evening. Kyle was crowned the racer scooter champion (though Dave did beat him by abandoning his wheels and sprinting) and then we broke out the Rock Band.
It was a wonderful night, and also a glimpse at the summer we could have had, the summer we could still have if we quit right now. I can't say it wasn't tempting. We've had a rough start. Visiting so many friends and family members was fantastic, but what with the rain and the pain and the long, late days our time on the bike has very rarely been enjoyable. After watching me limp around the apartment getting disproportionately stressed out about packing today Kyle sat me down and asked if I really wanted to continue the trip. Was it worth the pain and all of the expected and unexpected challenges? Could we handle many more sunrise to sunset hauls? Would we be happier staying in Frederick and forgetting this whole crazy venture? I understood why he was asking those questions, and why he thought my feet and I might be close to quitting, but I just couldn't see myself giving up on the adventure, especially not this early. And I actually thought that much of my stress was because I was off of the bike, not because I was dreading getting back on it. When we're riding the purpose of each day is clear: to make it through the hard hours and reach our planned destination. It makes for a brief to-do list; I don't need to worry about what I'm going to wear or what I'm going to cook for dinner or how my schedule is going to fall into place. I like the straight-forwardness of it all, and knowing that each day we ride is a significant accomplishment in and of itself. During these days off we've done a lot of running around like crazy people, and I've also had a lot of time to think. I suppose that could be a good thing, but it's really thrown me off. I'm not sure about many aspects of the trip anymore, but at the same time I'm sure I don't want to stop. Regardless of how difficult it's been, I feel deeply committed to the trip now. In part it's because we discussed and publicized it so much (too much?) but I also just hate quitting once I've immersed myself. I don't feel like I've taken on enough legitimate challenges in my life, and I'm not going to give up on this one without a fight. I have a lot of pondering and discussing to do over the next few days, but the best I can do right now is take one day at a time, and tomorrow we ride again.
| posted at: 07:08 |
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Thursday, June 18, 2009
Getting up this morning was really hard. We had a real bed and a hot breakfast waiting for us. Consequently, we didn't get started until after eight. For the first time all trip we were going to spend some time on familiar roads. In college I rode from Gettysburg to Lancaster and we'd be using many of the same roads to get to Frederick.
My strongest memory of that ride was the mile long bridge in Columbia and the steep climb into Wrightsville. Both of our knees were already hurting when we woke up, this hill about killed them. Then we had a few more miles to our next stop: The Haines Shoe House.
Apparently a shoe salesman became quite wealthy in the area and used the shoe house as both a guest house and an advertisement for his shoes. Though we'd both driven by it a dozen times, we had to tour it. The inside looked... like a house. There was also a shoe dog house.
It had also started to warm up. Fortunately, there was ice cream.
And then we were back on the road. We rode right through York, which had a ton of traffic. But fortunately we passed a Walmart, where Jillian bought a knee brace. In West York, they had awesome parking meters.
And then it got really hot. Just past York we stopped at a Sheetz and had a little picnic on the grass. Then we turned off US-30 to go to Hanover, PA. The road turned out to have even worse hills than the climb in Wrightsville. Plus, the hills were rolling, so as soon as we did one we had another. The scenery was beautiful though, with great big fields of wheat.
Once we left Hanover things started to flatten out. By the time we reached Littlestown the hills had switched to long, gradual climbs followed by similar descents. Soon we reached Maryland.
Unfortunately it was also starting to get dark.
We pushed on, following an official bike route through beautiful countryside with wonderful pavement and a wide shoulder. When we reached Taneytown, we took a few minutes for dinner.
Then we rode on to Frederick, catching a gorgeous sunset on the way.
Unfortunately, catching a sunset also meant we would be riding in the dark. We turned both of red lights on as well as all three of our headlights and rode on as fast as we could. Though we'd been riding very slow all day - usually less than 9 - we were able to keep it above 12 here and often up to 18. It felt like flying. By the time we'd reached Woodsboro the sun was totally down. But due to the wide shoulder riding still felt safe. We stopped one more time (at a Sheetz) to hydrate and then pressed on again.
Night riding is a funny thing. On one hand, you hate it because it feels so unsafe and you have to focus so hard on seeing what's on the road ahead of you. On the other hand, there's less traffic, the temperatures are better, and there's a certain peace to it. This was good night riding. Though I wish we'd gotten in a lot earlier, this turned out to be a wonderful section of the ride and just the right thing to cheer us up a bit.
We didn't arrive at our apartment in Frederick until nearly 11. David was getting a little worried. After quick notes to our parents that we'd made it alive, we completely passed out and were asleep in moments.
| posted at: 22:00 |
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Thursday, June 18, 2009
|
| Stoker's Log Day Three |
| 6/18/09 |
| From Lancaster, PA |
| To Frederick, MD |
| 80.3 miles |
| 9.3 avg mph |
This morning we left my childhood home for our current home in Frederick, MD. The weather couldn't make up its mind, but I suppose that's better than downpour or heatstroke all day. Near the beginning of the ride we had a steep climb into Columbia and then crossed their impressive mile long bridge.
We then made a stop at a curiosity that I used to drive by at least once a month and yet never visited: The Haines Shoe House.
Five stories tall and featuring shoe-themed stained glass, the house was built in the 1940s by Mahlon Haines, "The Shoe Wizard" and a master of self-promotion. He built the shoe house to boost sales, but he also let newlyweds honeymoon for free there, a tradition that I wish continued today! We elected to pay for the $4.50 tour; no doubt reflecting all of the bad jokes that she's heard over the years, the tour guide's first bit of information was that "No old lady lives in this shoe; I may be getting old but I don't actually live here." Even though the inside turned out to be less interesting than the outside, the family running the house was very friendly and it was nice to learn about the house and eccentric Mr. Haines. Apparently after a falling out with his fiance Haines packed his things, got on a bicycle, and rode across the state until it broke down. (Hopefully it didn't give Kyle any ideas...) After the tour we bought icecream and enjoyed it outside by the shoe dog house and shoe bird house, and it was all very charming and amusing.
Other sights of the day included a ridiculously large horse farm, a dentist's office with two creepy Ronald McDonald statues on its front lawn, a row of painted parking meters, and a gnome surrounded by other oddities for sale.
Also wheat fields. Turns out I really like wheat fields.
Kyle also liked the wheat fields, though he was less excited about taking photos of them.
It sounds like a pleasant day, and in part it was. The problem was that after that steep climb into Columbia the hills just kept coming. The beautiful rolling farmland unfortunately didn't make the twisting climbs any less exhausting. We found ourselves creeping along at an average of 8 mph for much of the day. It didn't help that we were sore and beaten up from the day before; our knees ached and creaked and my always problematic feet were killing me. The miles crawled along and suddenly the sun was setting, which was picturesque but problematic.
We never thought the ride home would drag on so long, but there was nothing to do but keep pedaling. We strapped on headlamps, turned on the bike's flashing red lights, and headed down the road looking even more like a carnival attraction than normal. Thankfully we finally caught a break: flats with a slight tailwind. It felt like we were flying compared to the rest of the day. We still didn't make it home until 10:30 at night though, which is just no good at all. We don't want to be riding in the dark for extended periods of time and we'll usually want to be asleep before 10:30 since we're planning on many early mornings. Luckily we had already planned to take a day or two off in Frederick to recuperate and get things together, so we could crash -- finally -- knowing that for once we could sleep in...
| posted at: 07:02 |
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Wednesday, June 17, 2009
We woke up early at Fricker's. Fricker is currently living in a converted chicken coop on a lavander farm. Curiously enough, it's the perfect place for him.
He lives within walking distance from where he works, and within walking distance from the dojo where he trains. After his girlfriend fed us some pumpkin-chocolate chip muffins (we had a lot - they were kind of hard to stop eating). He gave us a bit of a tour.
Naturally, I also played with the dog.
Then we were off, a little late, as usual. Leaving Fricker's was a relaxing ride. Despite having a little more trouble following our route, we had a pretty good ride. Jillian caught an awesome picture in a park.
Around lunch time we stopped at a Dairy Queen for some food. We also had a lengthy conversation with a nice gentleman and his granddaughter.
When we were confused about where we were, we had to stop and check the Garmin. Unfortunately, we weren't sure how to make the display brighter. So we had to come up with a different solution.
As we approached Morgantown, PA the clouds looked awful. Then we started a lengthy, two mile long hill. At the top, the rain really hit. We donned rain gear and pressed on.
When we reached New Holland, we stopped at a CVS to get some food and use a bathroom. Around here I noticed I was getting very, very cold. I tried my rain pants, but they kept getting caught in the gears. So I had to switch to my cycling tights. Add a pair of wool socks, and a few miles later I started warming up. Eventually, we reached Lancaster where we discovered that the Eden road we were looking for was not the route we really wanted. We took a route right through the city, and finally rolled into Jillian's parents house as it started to get dark. They were more than just a little concerned that we had taken so long to get there.
They gave us some delicious food, and we passed out. It was another depressing day. Though we finished 86 miles, our pace had slipped slightly. We'd also gotten stuck riding in the rain and had finished in the dark again. Both of our knees had started hurting quite a bit.
End of the day in Mountville? Kinda demoralized.
| posted at: 22:00 |
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Wednesday, June 17, 2009
 |
| Stoker's Log Day Two |
| 6/17/09 |
| From Peace Valley in Doylestown, PA |
| To Lancaster, PA |
| 86.8 miles (yes, again) |
| 10.7 avg mph |
On the second day of our journey we were awoken by a rooster. (Technically our alarm rang first, but that's not as poetic.) We gazed groggily out of the misty windows, ate more pizza and muffins, and packed up far too slowly. Before leaving we got a tour of the lavender farm and gift shop barn, which also houses the dojo where Fricker does akido. (At least one word in that sentence is probably spelled incorrectly).
Oh, and Kyle found another friend.
Eventually we did get on the road, headed to my parents' house in Lancaster. It was supposed to be about a 70 mile trip, but somehow it ended up being 86.8, the exact mileage from yesterday. We met a number of charming people on our travels today: a trio of female cyclists, a boisterous man taking his daughter out for DQ, a couple also planning to ride a tandem across the country, several very nice fast food employees, and a young boy playing in the park who was quite the fan of our bike.
We were in the park in the first place because I had spotted a swan family and subsequently went crazy with my camera; most of the aftermath is on Flickr.
The riding itself was much less enjoyable than these breaks. We were slowed down by climbs, including one that went on for over four miles. Our knees started to protest loudly, and my left achilles felt like it was being crushed by the back strap of my shoe. And then the rain came. It wasn't bad enough that we couldn't ride in it, but it sure was miserable. It was especially bad for Kyle, who had a steady stream of water on his lower legs; until he stopped and dug out his heavy cycling tights he couldn't get warm and neither could his joints. To make it worse, it was getting dark. We were fully prepared for night riding, but that didn't mean we were looking forward to it. We were so cold, so miserable, so desperate to make it to Lancaster. And just when we felt like we were getting close, the road we were supposed to follow disappeared. Suddenly we were headed through downtown Lancaster with me navigating, something that will probably never happen again but which went surprisingly well. I probably shouldn't be proud of being able to maneuver through my hometown, but with my lack of navigational skills I'll take what I can get.
We rolled into my parents' driveway just as the sun was setting and apparently a few minutes after my father had gone out to look for us. After such a difficult evening it was wonderful to have my family there to comfort and feed us (and to loan us clothes and a bed -- thanks bro!). A warm shower and a meatloaf dinner later and all was well with the world once again.
| posted at: 06:27 |
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Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Neither of us slept well today, mostly because we both knew we were going to be getting up after only four hours of sleep. But we still managed to wake up quite excited to get going. After months and months of getting ready it was finally time to get on the road.
After a hurried breakfast we were on the road and off to the beach. Like all cross country travelers, we took the bike down to the water to dip the back tire in.
Unfortunately the skies were a little cloudy, so the sunrise wasn't as spectacular as I'd hoped. But then it was time to load the bike and get going. Jillian's mother gave us a new flag for the trailer.
And we were off. The houses close to the shore of New Jersey were spectacular. We had anticipated riding from about five until ten, when we'd stop at our friend Sheila's house for a while. Unfortunately, a certain donut shop may have gotten in the way, and we didn't depart until around six. We also had a terrible time in a few places where roads had the wrong name, or simply weren't there. Fortunately, it wasn't hard to find our way back to where we needed to be. We ended up showing up at noon. Sheila has new puppies.
I was exhausted. After Sheila fed us, I took a nap.
Around three it was time to get going. We gave Sheila a quick ride.
Then we were off again.
We rode straight for Pennsylvania. We crossed the Delaware at Washington's Crossing. It's a very, very narrow bridge, with a very pretty park nearby. We approached it in line with cars, to find signs everywhere on the bridge. We couldn't possibly read more than the one prohibiting horses. Halfway across, someone ran out of a little shelter and yelled at us. Only then did we notice an additional sign that said we needed to walk the bikes on a separate walkway. That would have been better actually, since we could have taken pictures, but since there was no way to get the bike onto the walkway, we just crossed in record time.
Once in Pennsylvania, we had nearly twenty miles to go until Fricker's house. Unfortunately, none of the roads had a shoulder, and none of them had a bathroom. Jillian ended up rather dehydrated, making for a very hard few miles.
Finally we came to a lake. Fricker was at the other side of this lake, and we only had to go a few miles and we were there. Unfortunately, the road we needed had a closed sign. We ended up trying to dead reckon around the lake. It took a while, but at least it was pretty.
Finally we arrived, close to dark. A rather depressing way to start our first day, finishing everything hours later than we'd originally intended. We promptly grabbed a pizza and went to bed.
| posted at: 22:00 |
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Tuesday, June 16, 2009
|
| Stoker's Log Day One |
| 6/16/09 |
| From Sea Bright, NJ |
| To Peace Valley in Doylestown, PA |
| 86.8 miles |
| 11.2 avg mph |
The first day of our trip began, appropriately enough, at sunrise. I'm not sure how Kyle talked me into waking up that early, but I'll admit that I'm rather glad he did. Accompanied by my mother and her friends who had graciously hosted us in their beautiful house the night before, we arrived on the beach as the sun struggled to appear through the clouds. We dipped the wheel of the bike into the ocean - nicely symbolic but also rather messy - and took a great deal of photos on the beach, on the playground, in the parking lot...(all on Flickr)
Thanks to Emily and Steve for the perfect shirts!
Before leaving, my mother presented us with a "Just Married" flag for the back of our trailer and we made about half a dozen final checks of our equipment.
Finally, we were off...over the bridge, through neighborhoods of impressive estates, and past a number of joggers who had miraculously convinced themselves to wake up at sunrise for regular exercise. We saw a number of amusing sights that morning, including baby emus, what appeared to be a potted plant farm, and a company named Probus whose logo looked suspiciously like a UFO.
Later we discovered interesting ruins, conveniently located at a point where Kyle wanted to consult the Garmin, so I was able to wander through them and take photos. I was tempted to walk through the ones that looked liked doors to Narnia, but I didn't want to strand Kyle in this world with the bike.
We also amused ourselves by making up songs. It was a brisk morning to say the least, and I came up with countless verses to "I'm a little windbreak," sung to the tune of "I'm a little teapot." Then we saw a painted mural for "Michelle's Magical Garden," which was clearly meant to show diversity and yet featured all caucasion children. We decided Michelle's Magical Garden was a television show waiting for us to write its theme song. That kept us entertained for quite some time.
Fifty miles into our ride we made a very important stop to visit my frisbee soulmate. The stars had aligned and sent Sheila home from Spain the day before, and we barely needed to alter our route to visit her parents' home. Sheila and I spent several hours catching up on each other's lives while Kyle played and napped with her dogs. We also consumed all of the food Sheila brought from Wegman's and gave her a ride on the bicycle. We wanted to stay much longer but we eventually had to press on.
Sheila's stories about her travels included Morocco, where it is apparently considered shameful for women to be seen heading to the bathroom. My small bladder and I would not be very respectable in Morocco. I actually ran into serious problems today when we had a long stretch without any bathrooms; there were miles of nothing and then one gas station, which was of course without a public bathroom. (Which reminds me, apologies to Wawa customers for my muttered obscenities.) I stopped drinking since I didn't want to make the situation worse, which was of course a horrible idea. I started to get dehydrated and Kyle had to carry us for a few miles while I pedaled woozily. Eventually we found a bathroom and I quickly consumed enough liquid to get back to normal, but I'm really beginning to fear the unpopulated regions of our trip.
Our final destination of Day One was Pleasant Valley, where our friend Fricker lives and works on a lavender farm. We had to take the scenic route around a lake because there was a road closed, but at least the path was shaded and had a nice view.
We also got to see some local wildlife when a deer darted across the road between us and an approaching line of cyclists. Starting at sunrise makes for a long day, however, so we were relieved to finally climb up Fricker's driveway.
He lives in what apparently used to be a chicken coop, but the only sign of its origins is the fact that the ceilings are too low to accommodate the claw foot tub, meaning tall people like Kyle and Fricker have to crouch in order to shower (I could just fit with a knee bend). Fricker and his girlfriend Lyssa provided us with pizza from down the street and the most amazing pumpkin chocolate chip muffins ever. They were pre-dinner snack and dessert and breakfast.
Predictably I suppose, we weren't very exciting houseguests. We enjoyed chatting over dinner but very soon after it was time for us to crash. We may have been on a futon but it was the most comfortable, wonderful rest imaginable.
| posted at: 06:27 |
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Monday, June 15, 2009
After spending an entire weekend running around buying things last minute for the trip, we're finally ready to go. We have a lot of stuff.
Around noon we headed off to Lancaster where we'll be leaving our cars with Jillian's parents. After tucking our cars very carefully into the corner of their driveway, Jillian and I got into her mother's car and headed off to Jersey.
I don't remember much of this part of the trip, since I was in and out of sleep a lot.
Once in Jersey we stayed with one of her mother's college friends for the night. We were treated to a delicious dinner and conversation with another Gettysburg alum. Naturally, we had to give rides.
Before we climbed into bed, I noticed the magazine on the nightstand. A hint, maybe?
Plan is to get up at 3:30am in order to make a sunrise departure on the beach.
| posted at: 22:00 |
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Saturday, June 13, 2009
The Plan: have everything ready a few days before departing, leaving time for a long ride or two with full gear in order to assess our packing strategy.
The Reality: run around like crazy people for the last few days, spending countless hours shopping, planning, and packing, leaving us with time only for brief (15-20 mile) rides just before it got dark, and never with a fully packed trailer.
These rides were still helpful, however, especially the one we took with me steering in the back. We learned so much pedaling in the other person's shoes and it made a difference immediately. On the following ride I had a much better understanding of Kyle's challenges and when and how he needed me to pedal, and he learned what and when he needed to communicate. I also realized how much I wanted to avoid the back whenever possible. It's incredibly stressful back there, especially managing starts, stops, and steering in heavy traffic. I'm also not as physically suited to it: it's hard to control something that heavy with my shorter and weaker arms. Thankfully Kyle is becoming increasingly comfortable with the back and is willing to remain there fulltime for a week or more until we reach more barren landscapes, unless of course an injury necessitates a switch.
I had been worried about packing from the beginning; I have never, ever been able to travel light. It actually went better than expected, perhaps because I've been thinking about and shopping for the trip for so long. I took 2.5 cycling outfits, 2 casual outfits, a long sleeved shirt, rain gear, and a bathing suit. Through the magic of a stuff sack, it fit into a very small space:
Fitting all of our gear into the trailer was a bit more challenging, so we ended up strapping a small backpack to the top. Still, it wasn't bad, and we'll be riding through Frederick on our third day so we can figure out what supplies to drop or reposition. We were ready to go, or ready enough. Off to Jersey...
| posted at: 06:20 |
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Wednesday, June 10, 2009
We're trying to get in as many rides as we can before the big departure so that we can prepare ourselves for the riding and also to test items like the trailer and new clothing. That's right, thanks to my brother we have a BOB trailer for our bike, and thanks to my mother we have a pirate flag to make it visible.
Our first test trip was to and from the Mt. Airy bike shop where we bought the Pino in the first place. Kyle needed to buy a few things and we wanted to talk to them about my foot problems. We lucked out and talked to a super friendly guy who also rides recumbent and has gone through foot hot spots, and he suggested a pair of cycling sandals that might help. I had wanted sandals ever since Kyle got his pair of Keen commutes, so after a test ride and some confusion about sizes I decided to buy Shimano SPD sandals (SH-SD60B). They're like a standard pair of velcro sandals, except the sole is inflexible and has the same clips as my cycling shoes. So far the sandals have worked well. I haven't gotten hot spots while wearing them (fingers crossed) though the designs in the footbed can be annoying during long rides. Overall, however, I think they were a great purchase, especially since we're riding cross-country during the summer.
If only getting to the shop in the first place had been so simple. Kyle mapped out a route that should have been 15 miles each way. Unfortunately, one of the roads on Googlemaps didn't actually exist, so by the time we reached the shop we had already gone nearly 30 miles. Usually I would have been happy for the additional distance, especially since I wanted to make up for skipping the 51 mile Lancaster Farmland Trust ride that day (because of travel and timing issues; we certainly love covered bridges and farmland). By the time we neared the shop, however, I was starving and being burnt to a crisp. Note to self: no matter what the hurried husband says, there is always time to apply sunscreen. When we finally stopped and I put on sunscreen the damage was done. I had certainly suffered bad sunburn before, but I'd never had the sensation of emanating heat for days. I couldn't even bear to touch my legs together. I did, however, get to use a leaf from the aloe plant that Kyle's mother gave me, which was pretty neat.
Other than the unexpected detour and the seering heat, the ride went very well. We had to deal with a number of narrow or nonexistent shoulders, which made Kyle vow to leave Maryland, but we didn't encounter any major problems. We could feel the weight of the trailer but only during steep climbs and head winds (then again, it wasn't even half-full). We enjoyed ourselves and still felt pretty good at the end of the ride.
...
Which was a good thing, since the next day we drove to Harrisburg to ride the Greenbelt with Kyle's father, brother, uncles, and cousins. We also convinced our friend Emily to come along, who had just arrived in Frederick for the summer. The Greenbelt ride, which was part road and part trail, took us through neighborhoods, along the water, and into forests. It was much more scenic and relaxing than the Scranton ride, that's for sure. We got to see a cricket game, river rescue training, and a lot of greenery and bridges.
I also liked that we were riding the Greenbelt in order to benefit the Greenbelt; that's good charity ride logic. I really wish the ride had been longer than 20 miles, but other than that I have no complaints.
Scratch that, I have one complaint: I am tired of people assuming that I do little or no work in the front of the bike. I heard so many cracks like "You getting a free ride up there?" and "Don't show my wife that bike" and "That looks like a sweet deal for you" and while I laughed I was not amused. Yes, riding in the back is more difficult overall since you have to steer, but I always have to pedal the same speed and at times I'm pedaling harder (Steep hills are becoming my thing; I'm weird). Even Kyle got annoyed on my behalf, and offered to make me an "Actually I'm working just as hard" t-shirt.
Otherwise it was an awesome day. After being waved across the finish line by enthusiastic volunteers with bubbles and flags, we picked up our Greenbelt t-shirts and enjoyed hotdogs in the shade. They also supplied Vitamin Water, which I had previously never tried. The liquid itself was ok, but the packaging was amazing. The label told me that I was drinking "dragonfruit" that helped Agnes bench press llamas. Good stuff. At the cars we had more food thanks to Kyle's uncle, and then we headed over to an outdoors store to buy me a pair of Marmot rain pants. One less thing on the list (which is still disturbingly long considering that we leave in about a week). But hey, yay for bicycling, and for a ride that was enjoyable and scenic and taken at a steady but not exhausting pace. I hope our trip will be the same.
| posted at: 06:11 |
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Sunday, June 07, 2009
Our last opportunity to get some training in came in the form of the Capital Area Greenbelt ride. My former roommate Emily was in town for a few weeks, so Jillian and I put her on my old mountain bike (which I bought specifically for the CAGA 07 ride) and the three of us headed to Harrisburg. By chance we all wore blue.
We met up with my family, some of whom were apparently able to avoid being in a picture.
This ride was also our first opportunity to try out Jillian's sandals. Jillian's mountain bike shoes had caused some pretty serious hot spots during the Scranton ride, so we were glad these worked a lot better.
After our rather miserable experience in Scranton, we were glad to be able to get a fun ride in before our trip.
| posted at: 22:00 |
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Tuesday, June 02, 2009
When I returned to school from my honeymoon I found that a certain science teacher had decided to cover my desk, bookshelves, and filing cabinet with up to six inches of shredded paper. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera with me, so I wasn't able to get any photos of it, beyond a terrible one on my cell phone.
Naturally I couldn't let that go unanswered. After spending a weekend moving Jillian to Maryland, I came into a large roll of pallet wrap. Several hundred feet. I started with her desk.
Then moved on to her classroom.
I also wrapped her scissors in many, many rolls of pallet wrap, and hung them from her ceiling.
Just for fun, I even left her a note on the board.
| posted at: 22:00 |
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