Decent start time. Wanted breakfast at the Dairy Queen, but closed. Hit the MickeyD, which I normally avoid like the plague. A large group of older men talked with me, and I got good route info … a bridge was out on the route I had planned.
On the way, I called a friend in NJ, who was my back-up for emergency repairs at the building of the Ethical Culture Society, for which I am responsible. All the rain in the east caused flooding in the basement when the water table rose to the surface. Our building was draining the town. We settled on a sump pump to sit in the window well, but it was very shallow and he had to find a switch that would operate in a narrow range and at a low level. It was sure a relief to have a capable guy to fall back on.
Late afternoon coolness set in. I went after a sun block of SPF 100 I’d seen advertised on TV, but it wasn’t out on the shelves yet. Settled for an 85. Not nice stuff – heavy, icky. Kinda late in the game to be worrying about it, but I began the drill anyhow. I had already blistered on the arms and legs. The neck was tender too, and my nose had already peeled. The worst was my head. I always forget about the aero slots in the helmet and the sun burns my scalp in strips. No issue, until I go to scratch my head. Owwww. Somehow I remember to bring the spray sun block when I go skiing, but not on a bike ride. Dumbkopf. Well, it is worse on the mountain, because the UV rays increase intensity 5% for every thousand feet above sea level. Betcha didn’t know that.
I passed a lot of time today by reliving my memorable vacation in 1977, when I left Iran for the first time in 4 years. It was a 5-week trip, 4 of which were sans kids, in Europe. I then thought about various problems or things I was undecided about, and had a few revelations/solutions. I gotta do that more often – think long and hard and repeatedly. Somehow I was able to think outside the box when riding.
I got to Kentland, Illinois, and stopped at the first restaurant, at the edge of town. It looked like a nicer than usual place. As I was talking with the cashier girl, some departing patrons helped out. I got a motel name, she made a phone call, and I got a reservation, then moved to sit down for dinner. Just then a man approached and asked if he could buy me dinner. He said he’d passed me on the road some time earlier and was a huge Tour de France fan, and here I was, a bike rider. I explained that I was not the usual cyclist and barely ride when not on an adventure, but he didn’t care. His French accent was so thick I barely understood him. I joined him and his wife. He himself was a piece of work. He was born in the Pyrenees and came to Canada when he was 19. He worked as a lumberjack in eastern Canada, and also was a tomato picker on a gigantic farm owned by Heinz. He said he picked 2,000 pounds a day. Somehow I cannot visualize the number of tomatoes, by weight, but I am still impressed. Eventually he went way out west and worked with Eskimos (doing what, he never said). He told me he hiked to within 200 miles of the Arctic Circle. Then he became a gold miner and worked 2 miles below ground. I wondered if that was the real depth. He also has been to every country in the western hemisphere and in Europe as well. Frenchie was now 68. His wife was American and apparently they’d only been married a few years. By the way, the dinner portions were massive. The lasagna quality was “strange” – I can’t think of a better word for it, as a food critic. But I got fed well, free! I did have to rush off, as a thunderstorm was very near and I did not want to ride even a mile in lightning, though that’s exactly what happened. Multiple simultaneous strikes, huge, and close together. Only a few drops, but scary.
The motel was inexpensive. Owned by an Indian immigrant, who had lived in Atlantic City for 17 years before buying this place. I gathered he kept going west until he found one he could afford to buy. It was a little downscale and not well maintained, and probably would stay that way, but he was personable.
Why a Bike Ride?
Summer of 2009:
More adventure. The plan: Ride from St. Louis, MO to Upper Saddle River, NJ, via Ann Arbor (to visit my brother), then across Ontario and thru Buffalo to Hobart College (Geneva, NY), then south to the Delaware River, which I'd follow into NJ and continue southeast to home. From Ann Arbor, it is the reverse of the route I took across America 2 years ago.
With a meeting to attend in St.L., it seemed a good idea to ride back.
St.L. departure date: 6/15. Estimated distance: about 1,150 miles, or one-third my Cross-America trip. Theoretically, the wind would be at my back. The hope: a 100-miles-a-day average and 12 days in the saddle. Total elapsed time: dependent upon weather and equipment outages.
My son says it will be dry every night and drenching during the day, the other side of the road will be smooth whereas I'll ride in under-construction rubble, the wind will be in my face, and all roads will be uphill. With my luck, could happen.
No official money-raising, but if you want to contribute, the trip ain't cheap.
I will make the blog entries at sporadic points, with fuller descriptions at trip's end.
Summer of 2007:
It was a personal challenge, short and simple. I needed to prove to myself that this 70-year old man wasn't over the hill yet.
So, while I was at it, I appealed to 4 different constituencies to pledge financial support for my ride. The consitituencies do not overlap in any way. I raised money for:
The Ethical Culture Society of Bergen County, of which I was the President (2006-8): (http://www.ethicalfocus.org/). ECS is a caring humanist community that believes in deed, not creed, as expressed in social action.
Upper Saddle River, my home town, in support of all the volunteer services: the Fire Department; the Ambulance Corps; the Rescue Squad.
The Interact Club, at the Bergen Academies (a county high school with competitive admissions, where I am a substitute teacher). The club helps the hungry and homeless, and also pays the fare for children from the 3rd world to come to the US for medical treatment.
And last but not least (they are all equal in my mind), I hoped to kindle the giving for my alma mater, Hobart College, so we could present them with a sizable class gift in June, 2008, at our 50th reunion.
So you now have both the real reason ... and the good reasons.
And while I was at it, I wanted to try to show up those who said I wouldn't make it on the (ambitious) schedule I set for myself. I didn't, making an average of only 81 miles per day, when riding. I was done in by the steeps, the weight I carried, some bike problems, headwinds and afternoon thunderstorms. Color me humbled.
And now that the ride is over, I slake my need to write by adding occasional longer-view essays based upon the experience.
To summarize the trip, I covered 3,467 miles, solo. My route ran from home, in Upper Saddle River, in northeastern NJ, to Buffalo, across Ontario, then through Michigan to Wisconsin, across Minnesota, Nebraska, and into Colorado at the northeastern corner. I went southwest from there to Denver, then south to Albuquerque, and due west to L.A., across the Mojave Desert.
I lost approximately 4 days to weather, 3 days to visits en route with my brother in Michigan and my oldest son in Denver, and about 3 days to various bike issues. That leaves 39 days for being in the saddle. Never had a leg issue. Ate like a pig and lost weight.
A great experience. Read on.
Bob
More adventure. The plan: Ride from St. Louis, MO to Upper Saddle River, NJ, via Ann Arbor (to visit my brother), then across Ontario and thru Buffalo to Hobart College (Geneva, NY), then south to the Delaware River, which I'd follow into NJ and continue southeast to home. From Ann Arbor, it is the reverse of the route I took across America 2 years ago.
With a meeting to attend in St.L., it seemed a good idea to ride back.
St.L. departure date: 6/15. Estimated distance: about 1,150 miles, or one-third my Cross-America trip. Theoretically, the wind would be at my back. The hope: a 100-miles-a-day average and 12 days in the saddle. Total elapsed time: dependent upon weather and equipment outages.
My son says it will be dry every night and drenching during the day, the other side of the road will be smooth whereas I'll ride in under-construction rubble, the wind will be in my face, and all roads will be uphill. With my luck, could happen.
No official money-raising, but if you want to contribute, the trip ain't cheap.
I will make the blog entries at sporadic points, with fuller descriptions at trip's end.
Summer of 2007:
It was a personal challenge, short and simple. I needed to prove to myself that this 70-year old man wasn't over the hill yet.
So, while I was at it, I appealed to 4 different constituencies to pledge financial support for my ride. The consitituencies do not overlap in any way. I raised money for:
The Ethical Culture Society of Bergen County, of which I was the President (2006-8): (http://www.ethicalfocus.org/). ECS is a caring humanist community that believes in deed, not creed, as expressed in social action.
Upper Saddle River, my home town, in support of all the volunteer services: the Fire Department; the Ambulance Corps; the Rescue Squad.
The Interact Club, at the Bergen Academies (a county high school with competitive admissions, where I am a substitute teacher). The club helps the hungry and homeless, and also pays the fare for children from the 3rd world to come to the US for medical treatment.
And last but not least (they are all equal in my mind), I hoped to kindle the giving for my alma mater, Hobart College, so we could present them with a sizable class gift in June, 2008, at our 50th reunion.
So you now have both the real reason ... and the good reasons.
And while I was at it, I wanted to try to show up those who said I wouldn't make it on the (ambitious) schedule I set for myself. I didn't, making an average of only 81 miles per day, when riding. I was done in by the steeps, the weight I carried, some bike problems, headwinds and afternoon thunderstorms. Color me humbled.
And now that the ride is over, I slake my need to write by adding occasional longer-view essays based upon the experience.
To summarize the trip, I covered 3,467 miles, solo. My route ran from home, in Upper Saddle River, in northeastern NJ, to Buffalo, across Ontario, then through Michigan to Wisconsin, across Minnesota, Nebraska, and into Colorado at the northeastern corner. I went southwest from there to Denver, then south to Albuquerque, and due west to L.A., across the Mojave Desert.
I lost approximately 4 days to weather, 3 days to visits en route with my brother in Michigan and my oldest son in Denver, and about 3 days to various bike issues. That leaves 39 days for being in the saddle. Never had a leg issue. Ate like a pig and lost weight.
A great experience. Read on.
Bob
Saturday, August 22, 2009
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2 comments:
Hi Bob. Hot day forgot hat day gash day, but 70 miles under your belt and a nice rest in the afternoon as far as the motel owner I had a friend from daycare who's was also moved whose husband was in the motel business so after 17 years he probably did well in Atlantic City and went to a easier less expensive locale she was a wastrel and I'm assuming her husband was also she was also the ones that I met at St Patrick's praying to get pregnant since there aren't that many temples around she figured any holy place was a good place to offer up her intentions
Took 5 minutes to get back to comment she is not a wastrel that was voice text it is zorastrian. Always need to edit and review
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