Photo of Bob

Here is a photo of Bob and his bike while in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

A celebrity in Wisconsin

Gregg here: Sorry that the following story is somewhat brief, but what it lacks in detail in no way diminishes the sentiment shared by Bob. On Friday night, Bob arrived in a town in Wisconsin called Fremont, population about 670. This is, of course, after taking a night ferry from the town of Ludington, Michigan to Manitowoc, Wisconsin late the previous night, and fighting omnipresent and serious headwinds most of the day. Once in Fremont, he was received and treated like a celebrity. Turns out that there was a news article or television story about him that many of the folks had seen, and upon being ushered to the area where the town was hosting a two-day fair type of event, folks came up to him and conveyed their knowledge and support of his adventure. People offered and insisted that Bob accept their cash donations. The grand total was not important, but Bob was blown away by the generosity and enthusiasm. Fans included older residents, young women, motorcycle dudes, etc. If I recall correctly, he also met the mayor and was interviewed by the local newspaper (he was promised a copy of the article). I imagine Bob will write about this in greater detail at some point, for the level of enthusiasm in his voice after such a long day and fun party was impressive.

On Saturday, Bob fought long and hard pedaling into the headwind. There were times when he was forced into the easiest of gears despite being on flat terrain and as a result, his total mileage when we spoke around 6 or 7 p.m. was only 50 or so miles. However, he was eager to get in a few more miles in the next two hours and sure enough, he managed another 30 miles in those two hours making Saturday's grand total 81 miles. All things considered, he was pleased.

It should be noted, in case not previously indicated, that Bob left his trailer in Ann Arbor with his brother to ship back to NJ. He estimates that he is about 30 or more pounds lighter, and that's net of the addition of the bike panniers (frame bags). Other comments: other than the hassle with the headwinds, his legs feel great. He's also considering a more northernly route that would take him on Route 2 until Montana where he'd begin to head southwest; the route was recommended to him by his brother's son Scott (my cousin) who knows many truckers who prefer hauling their cargo across this somewhat less treacherous alternate. I think that Azar mentioned that Bob was still unsure about it and may yet go through Denver. I suppose he'll make it a game-time decision. And, as always, he continues to meet supportive and generous people who offer water, food, accommodations, and on occasion, free ice cream!

No word from him today, Sunday, but I'll post again (and much more regularly hereinafter) once I hear from him.

Gregg

Since Ann Arbor

I had a very late start from AA because the bike needed adjustments and I had to buy panniers, a rack, etc and sort out what I was leaving and what I was taking. I didn't get under way until 3:20pm. My brother, Jess, drove me to the edge of town. It was extremely hot.

I got maybe 27 miles and stayed in a weird motel. The office had a phone and you had to dial "0" to get someone to come and register you. I got the manager's wife, who is an invalid and she said her husband was out delivering a truckload of sand but would be back shortly. It turned out he took 45 minutes.. The office area was run-down and the A/C barely worked. But the room was in many ways the best I'd gotten. A 2-person sofa faced a TV on a stand. There was a kitchen table w/2 chairs, a full-sized refrigerator, a full stove and kitchen sink w/cabinets, a microwave, a double bed and a 4-person sofa! And this A/C worked.

I got a decent start to the day and was making a great day of it - over 90 miles, but ran into a thunderstorm. I got off the road immediately and there was a house with a full porch on 2 sides of the house. No one was home. I waited it out, high winds and all and it took 1hr45min. So I could only go a little farther, to a town called Ionia. I stopped at a state police office to ask about the least expensive motel and the police office had closed at 4!

There was every kind of fast food joint available, but I chose Subway even though I was not watching the fat intake. Got my sandwich, chips and a soda, and headed out for a motel. A couple pulled me over less than a mile away. They had seen my shirt in the store (the back says: LA to NJ), and just had to talk to me. They immediately offered me a place to stay and I follwed them home -- nearby. They both bike, but on tandem bikes. They were very nice. I don't have time to go into any details about them and their place but it was unique!

I was not on the road much before 9:30 this morning, and suffered through intense headwinds. Yesterday it was all from the west and I was going due west. Today it was due north and the headwinds had shifted to from the north. I barely got 65 miles. A fellow had pulled off the road and waited for me to come up to him, again, because of my shirt. A few quick questions, and an invitation to a meal and a place to stay. I am using his computer now and chose to send the e-mail rather than update the blog. Of course, he is a biker, but not a dedicated road warrior.

He has 2 kids at home, 2 at camp, and he's leaving in a few days to go to Wyoming with the boys and go back-packing. It is a church-related organized trip. Nice kids. Got a choice of sandwich stuff and some pasta for dinner, with watermelon, and lots of ice water. Neat!!!

I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget it, but I don't have the paper in front of me. If I recall correctly, his name is Harley Blake.

We reviewed my routing and he showed me a bike trail that I can use for about 17 miles, where I'd need to turn off it. It is paved and has zero vehicles on it. I must do 75 miles tomorrow to make the 8pm ferry at Ludington, MI to Manitowoc, Wisc. It is a 4-hour trip, but Wiconsin is back an hour, so if I make it, I arrrive at 3am, WI time. Yucccch. If I miss that departure, I have to wait 12 hours.

PS: The bike trail was gravel and unusable with my skinny tires. I stopped for breakfast after a short while, and wasn't there long when Harley's son appeared to return my water bottles to me. Dumb me had left them in the fridge. What a very nice thing for them to do, to chase me down!

It is Sunday, and I am in Ann Arbor and taking a full day off, having arrived last night at 8:30 pm. It was a 90 mile day.
The first order of business is an apology. I pass info by cell phone to my wife, who relays it to my son, Gregg (sometimes I talk to Gregg directly). As you know, when A tells B who tells C and then tries to recreate the details in writing, a lot of "facts" get garbled. I know Gregg has apologized in advance for such mistakes, and reiterated that he feels bad if he made egregious mistakes, so I won't waste time and space being anal about them. Maybe some day I'll set the record straight on a bunch of them, but later on, who'll care? With one general exception: mischaracterizations.
I have met so many helpful generous people who have gone out of their way for me, and some with an astonishing amount of grace, as well, such as Mary Gearan, wife of the President of Hobart College, who plopped me down at her dinner table when she had dinner guests, and even was thoughtful enough to hand me a plastic baggy of goodies (desserts) to take to the room when I left. (By the way, I did not go to a dorm room but to the brand new condo-like housing for (special?) alumni. I sure felt special and their daughter took photos of me with Dr. Gearan!
While I do not diminish the Gearans' generosity in the least, perhaps the most giving persons were Charlotte, from Richford, and her soon-to-be-niece, Lisa. It was getting dark, and cold, when a car stopped opposite to me to check on me. They had passed, then came back. It was a young couple. The man remembered his brother's bike trip the previous summer when so many people were helpful and friendly to him ... he was paying it forward, though he didn't phrase it that way. I told him I had been told there was a motel just ahead, in Marathon. He said Marathon wasn't ahead of me but behind me, on a different route! (The people who sent me looking for the motel forgot to tell me to turn north back aways.) This driver went ahead and damned if he didn't return in 15 minutes. He handed me a Gatorade, saying the woman in the Quikway fast food place at the gas station ahead had given it to him for me. He'd asked her about a motel and she said not for 20 miles. So he told her an old man would be coming in soon, and he was going to take a drink to me. She wouldn't take money for the drink. When I got there, I was so cold I couldn't stop shaking. My toes were numb. Charlotte had to carry my hot cocoa to the table for me because my hands were shaking so much. By and by, I had a sandwich, another hot cocoa, and an ice cream bar (an ice cream a day is my big treat on this trip). Charlotte would only take money for the ice cream bar. I had asked about the police, but the nearest station was 5 miles away and I wasn't going to ride in the dark. Charlotte's niece, Lisa, had been sitting in a booth waiting for her boyfriend to take her home ... he was working very late. Lisa is about 7 months pregnant. We had all agreed I would camp in a nearby town park, on the pavilion, when Lisa offered to let me stay with her and her boyfriend, Henry, age 46, if he agreed. So we waited, until 11 pm, as it turned out. Henry agreed. We put my bike and trailer in a storage shed at the gas station and went to their place. It was indeed an extremely humble place, much cluttered, but there was a bed, electricity and running water ... plus a momma cat and kitten ... very beautiful and friendly. Lisa and Henry took me back to the gas station in the morning. These were people of extremely modest circumstances, but the outreach was as handsome as anyone else's, maybe the more so!
Equally as generous and welcome was Nicolas Ortiz, on day 1. I'd gotten a flat late in the day (a staple through tire and tube) and was sitting beside the road changing the tube. A car pulled over just past me, then a cop car just before me, lights flashing. I thought he'd stopped a speeder, but no: the cop had gotten a call that a biker was in trouble, and Nicolas, in the car, had stopped, being a good Samaritan. I messed up putting in the new tube and it was getting dark fast. I thought I'd camp out and they both said the black bears were too dangerous in this area. So Nicolas offered to take me and all my things up the road to the town of Sussex, where there is a bike shop, and within 100 feet of it, a motel. He had a little Ford Echo, but it swallowed my bag, and almost the trailer, but we tied the trunk lid down with the bungee cord from the trailer set-up. The bike, with the front wheel removed, fit in the back seat. He drives 110 miles a day, commuting to Newark, and this little car looked new yet had 225,00 miles on it. We talked en route. Nicolas is from Colombia and I mentioned that my son's ex-wife was from there and that Gregg had visited several cities there. Then Nicolas said: "Why pay for a motel? Stay with me." So I met his wife, Angela, and their teenaged son. They served me an ad hoc dinner and an ice-cold beer, and I had a good sleep on their couch. Nicolas leaves for work at 6 am and dropped me off at the bike store. We unloaded all my gear then discovered the shop was closed on Tuesdays! So he dropped me off further down the road opposite a Wal-Mart where he had bought a bike for his son once. Unfortunately, they only sell, not service bikes. Nicolas gave me his home telephone number and his cell phone, in case, and for me to let him know how it goes.
I decided to hitch 25 miles back to the last known bike shop location, holding up the wheel and tube along with the hitching thumb, and someone stopped within 5 minutes. When he asked the problem, her said he could take care of that ... that he's a biker ... that he lived 3 minutes from there, so we went to his place, and voila! ... job done. Except: either the valve was defective or he screwed up, because 1 hour later, the tire was flat. The next bike shop determined that the air leaked out slowly and at some point, pressed the valve back into the tube so that the tube got slit evenly on either side of the valve. I was at a gas station (across the street from where I had this flat) checking out bike shops in the yellow pages, and none were close. I chose 1 when the station owner said that Route 206 was 5 or 6 miles down the road. When I called them, I got a message that they open at 11 am (a half hour away), so I chose them. A young man was having a small thing checked on his car and offered to drive me. Justin had just finished his 2nd tour in Iraq, in a tanker group, and was with his lovely wife, Lindsay. It turned out that 206 was a little further, but that the shop was another 15 miles on 206. Justin took me all the way! The shop also discovered 2 anomalies with the wheel, neither of which caused this flat, but could, in the future, so they repaired them. And I bought 3 more spare tubes, this time of the best quality, made by Continental, at 50% more money. I needed 3 hitches to get back: the 1st man was about 75 years and an ex-biker. The second was a cop, who could only take me to his town line; and the 3rd had also biked.
It was noon by the time I got under way. Thank you, Nicolas (and Angela). You are very good people, indeed!
I was walking up the very steep hill to the top of High Mountain, the highest spot in NJ, and Justin overtook me. He had been to an interview in Oakland and was coming back to his in-laws place in Pt. Jervis, which I was going to pass through. I had a lovely 4.5 mile downhill, except that I had to constantly brake to hold my speed to 25 mph, else the trailer makes the bike squiggly (I did hit 30 when the road had a super-smooth surface and no debris on it). In fact, my hands and forearms ached after pulling on the brakes so much.
In Pt. Jervis, I stopped to rest on the grass at a tiny park in front of a short but very steep hill and was there maybe 15 minutes when Justin came by. Justin did not recognize the route I had described earlier because I used route numbers and he knew street names. He told me of a bypass, along the Delaware River shore, to avoid the big hill, and said I would pass right by where his mother-in-law lived. I said I’d stop by for a cold beer if I saw them, but I never did see them.
If I got it straight, Lindsay and Justin went to high school together but hadn’t dated until after HS. When he enrolled for the military, they married.
Eventually, Justin wants to get a college degree and become a SWAT member. Yuckk. I wonder if Iraq did that to him. I hope he mellows into a more conventional police role.
He and Lindsay are great people!!
Saturday, 7/7, was the fullest day of riding yet ... on the road for 11.5 hours (including breaks). The legs never tired, but I did start to run out of basic energy and took several breaks later on the day. Somehow, even after dinner with my brother and sister-in-law (Jess and Anitra) and lots of conversation, and a late shower, I was not sleepy and made notes in my little diary book, then read until maybe 1 am.
Interesting things yesterday: one fellow passed me in his car, then pulled off the road and waited for me to bike up to him and waved me over. Bernie was wearing a red tee shirt emblazoned with "French Laundry Coffee," not something you see every day. Bernie is a biker and wanted to see if I needed anything since he had some expertise. When he said he did not have a cold beer in the car, well, there wasn't anything I needed, except maybe cold water. I thanked him for his concern, warmly, and moved on. Less than a mile up the road, there was Bernie, with 2 water bottles (ice and water) and he gave me a gel pack (energy booster goo) and 2 energy bars. I am not fond of gel packs but I wound up eating this one, albeit with lots of iced soda to get the taste out of my mouth, They are icky. And later I ate the power bar too ... less icky but pretty sweet.
At another point, a woman stopped beside me and offered me a refreshing swim in her pool. No come-on. Her teenaged son was in the passenger seat. Had I been unable to make to Ann Arbor last night, I’d have taken her up on it. I got the feeling I’d have had a free dinner and place to sleep.
Still later, another woman had stopped ahead of me and was walking back, as though to get to a nearby mailbox. Except she approached me holding out a hand that held a pear. She said I looked like I needed refreshment (I did!) but I had to decline: it is the one fruit I do not like. She seemed hurt, saying she nothing else in her car to offer. I told her she was sweet to stop but that I was OK, had water, etc. Nice looking woman, too. I guess I really looked bushed. There were maybe another 12 miles to go. Fortunately, the last few were downhill!! Yeah, I won one.
Future entries, by Gregg, will be episodic in nature, diary-like happenings. When I next post, it will probably be essays, and maybe some entries by category, such as: Be Careful What You Wish For; Observations (these are all over the map – pardon the pun); Exotic Cars Seen; Everything You Never Wanted to Know About Roads; Sun Poisoning (at least, that’s what my mom called it); and more.
Bob

Latest on Bob is that he has successfully made it through Canada and is back in the U.S. He was detained at the border though for a couple of hours as the bridge he chose to cross stopped allowing pedestrians and cyclists to use the bridge after 9/11. They offered to drive him in a pick-up truck but they were too busy to get to him. After a while, one of the staff who felt bad flagged down a random pick-up driver and asked for Dad to get transported. The driver agreed and Bob was helped with putting his rig in the back. Stop and go traffic ensued and upon disembarking, he realized that a couple of minor pieces of gear were left behind somehow in the pickup. Bob wasn't terribly concerned with the losses though since he was able to jury-rig his set-up.

Thereafter, while cycling on ahead in Michigan en route to Pontiac, a Harley-driving motorcyclist pulled Bob over to ask about what the trip was about. After a short while discussing the adventure, the guy offered for Bob to stay overnight at his nearby home. Bob accepted and was told to ride a few miles ahead and look for the Harley in the front of the guy's house. Bob thought that meant about 3 miles or so and despite efforts to find the bike, it must have slipped by. By the time Bob gave up on it, he figured he was a good 8 miles from where he had initially met the guy. Bob mused that either his navigation/sighting was off or the guy wasn't on the up-and-up. Either way, he had to keep on cycling.

Now concerned with finding a place to sleep for the night, Bob found someone to ask about the closest motel and was told that it was about 20 miles down the road. At this point, it was towards the latter part of the day. Despite the adventures from the day, Bob made it that final 20 miles and slept overnight in a town called Imlay City, Michigan. His brother thinks he is about 94 miles from Ann Arbor, so unless Bob is snag-free tomorrow, he might not get there until Sunday. It should be noted that he rode 73 miles despite the nearly two hours lost today.

The next entry will likely be from Bob himself while he's in Ann Arbor. Should be much more factual and entertaining from the first-person perspective!

Gregg

Argh, the rain!

Bob called this morning with a definite gloom in his voice. He reported having stayed in some random motel last night in a small town in Ontario called Simcoe. It seemed to be nice enough though apparently only a mile or so from a larger, nicer town. Unfortunately, he only made it to the next "nice" town before the heavens opened up. Frustrated by the heavy downpours and the inaccuracies of the weather reports he had checked, he resigned himself to wait it out in an Arbys restaurant. When he called me, he was upset about the loss of time and mileage and conveyed his concern about getting to LA in time for his childhood friend's (Gene) daughter's wedding. Azar later conveyed to me his considerable annoyance with the whole situation. She also relayed that he was miserably cold thanks to an overzealous air conditioning system and undoubtedly, the lack of bodyfat to keep him warm.

Shortly after speaking with me, two gentlemen approached him and asked out of curiosity about what he was doing there. After explaining his trip and showing off his bike rig, they commented that his tires were of the racing variety and not very conducive to long-distance, puncture-free rides. Apparently, the two men are officials of some sort in the local government and are also avid cyclists. They offered to give him a new set of tires that they swear by so long as Dad cycled over to some motel that was a few miles from Arbys. Bob agreed, cycled over to the motel, and met up with the men who promptly took his bike, dismounted his wheels, and changed his tires for him. Bob insisted that it wasn't necessary, but Canadian courtesy prevailed. Thereafter, the three of them went to dinner and feeling an absolute need to reciprocate such generosity, Bob excused himself to find the waiter and pay for the meal. Lo and behold, the two men had already beaten him to the punch! He seems to be pleasantly amazed by how he has embraced by nearly every community he's visited.

As of tonight, July 4th, he's in Tillsonburg, Ontario which is about 200 miles from Ann Arbor, Michigan. If he has better luck with weather and if the terrain isn't hilly, he could it make it there by Friday.

Bob's in Canada, ay?

Well, since Bob doesn't have the capacity (one could argue that it's not just a technical obstacle) to post updates while on the road, he's asked me, his son Gregg, to do so on his behalf.

Bob left NJ on Monday the 25th of June after a very busy and tiring weekend. As of the Sunday night preceding his departure, he hadn't even finished packing his gear nor the suitcase that Mom is expected to bring with her when she meets him in LA in August. He wound up leaving in the early afternoon rather than in the morning as was previously planned.

Almost immediately, he ran into mechanical problems. He had flats, drivetrain issues (poor gear shifting), and challenges simply staying upright given the odd physical properties of pulling a trailer behind a light aluminum road bike frame. Fortunately, he found helpful people in almost every town he visited. At one point, while disabled on the side of the road talking to a police officer, a good Samaritan offered to put Bob's gear in his compact car and take him to his home overnight since the bike shop was closed for the evening. Bob accepted and enjoyed their hospitality (dinner and an ice cold beer), their dog, and a surprisingly pleasant teenager son. The couch worked fine; he was safe for the night.

Bob's major problems, however, aren't confined to the many flats and stretched cables; it's the hills! He's reported walking up 4 out of 5 hills even if the gradient is modest. Without the trailer, he strongly believes that he'd be up them in no time. During his training, he put a number of heavy bricks on the trailer and drove around town to simulate the conditions he'd face while on this trip. If it helped at all, it certainly does not seem to be evident as even pushing the bike up some of the steep hills has been a challenge! As such, his goals for an average daily distance of between 70 and 100 miles are way off, but as the trip progresses, he believes his strength and endurance will increase and that he'll make up the lost time.

On Thursday night (I think), Bob was trying to figure out where he could camp for the night. He found this park and was considering all of the logistics involved with setting up camp, but wound up speaking with a young girl (maybe 19 or 20) who had just finished her shift at a local diner. She offered the home she shares with her boyfriend (in his 40s) for Bob that night, and he gladly accepted. His relief at having found safe and warm accommodations were quickly dashed as he arrived at what was described by him to be "Appalachia." It was the equivalent of a shanty-house in the middle of the woods; by his account, it was messy ... something straight out of the movies. Whie there were a toilet and a sink, the tub did not work. While he showed his gratitude to them, he was pretty startled at the bleakness of their circumstances, and yet their generosity. They made coffee the next morning and he went on to reclaim his bike and get back o n the road.

Eventually, Bob made it up to his alma mater, Hobart College, in Geneva, NY on Saturday (after waiting a rainstorm for about an hour). His plan was to hook up with a gentleman (possibly a former classmate who lives in the area) with whom he had been sharing correspondence, but didn't have the number to dial to reach the guy. Insert the world of technology; he called me Saturday in the early afternoon and asked if I was near a computer so that I could get to his e-mail and find the guy's number. I was in Central Park and without computer access, but I was able to use my buddy's Treo smartphone and after a few minutes, I found the number. That's the good news; the bad news is that when Bob dialed, the guy wasn't around. Somehow though, he managed to find the College President and when the President learned of Bob's adventure, Bob was invited to dinner as a virtual guest of honor at the President's home with his wife and another couple. They served pasta; Bob was VERY happy about that. Thereafter, he was offered a clean, albeit absolutely bare, condo-like suite for the evening and again, he accepted. The condo was newly built and had not been put in service yet, so only bedding was available, but no glases, silverware or cookware in the kitchen. But the A/C worked! And the shower was winderful! Bob's comments about this were entertaining to say the least; he just couldn't get over the contrast of being in the most primitive setting in Appalachia earlier in the week to dining with his College President in a near-regal element thereafter.

He was told that Sunday's ride route would be pretty flat but as usual, the information was bogus and Bob struggled again with hills. On Monday, however, he made pretty good time thanks to much gentler terrain and sure enough, his trip became an international one as he crossed the Peace Bridge connecting the US to Canada. He spent the night in Crystal Beach, Ontario on Monday night in a nice motel room with heat, cable TV, and vending machines. He was a happy man.

His original goal, before running into so many mechanical and topographical delays, was to arrive in Ann Arbor, Michigan to visit his brother Jesse by July 4th. This posting is dated July 3rd and Bob's message to me this morning was that he believes that he's about 200 miles from Windsor/Detroit. He expects to get halfway there today and if so, he'll likely arrive in Ann Arbor on Thursday. Thereafter, he's hoping that Jesse's U. of Michigan colleagues, who happen to include at elast one cyclist, will help him map out a flat-as-possible route to LA. Bob originally wanted to go through Denver to visit his son/my brother Michael, but it's unclear if those plans have changed. I get the feeling that most of his decisions at this point are going to be made on the fly.

Please note that all of the information in this post and future posts are subject to the inconsistencies of my memory or Azar's intepretations of Bob's stories, and while inaccuracies are very likely, the sentiment remains constant... that he's a loon who is undeterred in this amazing adventure. Please leave comments to this and future postings. Bob has been calling me a few times a day, and I'm sure he'll want me to relay your comments/questions/criticisms/support to him.

Gregg