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

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Ever hear of a watch-horse?

As written by Bob...

It was getting late. I had stopped beside a driveway and had a drink of water. I saw 2 horses trot quickly (and regally) down the 300 foot long driveway, on the other side of the fence, and eye me. I decided to go the handsome house (in the middle of nowhere, it seemed) and had to walk it because the driveway was mostly sand. Aimee Phillips and husband Ken told me it was not far to the next motel, but "why didn't I come in and have a beef sandwich?" which two of their four guests had brought from Chicago (the beef, that is).

At first I demurred, wanting to get to the motel before dark, but I WAS hungry and it seemed it would be dark anyway, and I needed more water, so I went in for the sandwich, and side dishes too.

They too had wondered why the horses took off from near the house, like watchdogs, so I called them watchhorses, but it seemed they were hungry and thought maybe I was bringing food (I really don't believe that, but it was not their regular behavior).

We had a nice conversation, and I got underway. They said it was only 10 miles to Colorado Springs and "all downhill." But first they explained why I had such difficulty having any kind of reasonable speed for so many miles since Denver ... I had climbed 2,000 feet over 40 miles. The rise is imperceptible to the eye, but my legs and speedometer sure knew. I was relieved. I had stopped several times to check the bike ... maybe the brakes were dragging, or - I didn't what "or." I have to tell you, it was discouraging, and tiring.

Well, there were some more slightly uphill sections, but it was late, it was dark, I was tired, and it was 7,000 above sea level, so I had more slow going. (I had my rainproof jacket and reflective vest on, and a good light on the bike, so traffic did not concern me, and there wasn't much of that anyhow. But when I did hit the downhills, wow! I could not see the road surface, though the lane markings were clear. And I could not see my speedometer, so I don't know how fast I went, but I would guess it was near 35 mph, and might have gone higher had I not judiciously applied the brakes.

Later I learned that I had only descended about 500 feet in elevation, so I must have climbed a bunch before the downhills.

I took the first place that came up because I did not know how far it would be to less expensive places, and I was cold and tired. It was 10:30 or so when I checked in.

Thanks, Ken and Aimee.

I got to Colorado City, maybe 30 miles south of Pueblo. Clearly I had gotten into adding elevation because I ran into a long slog of slow speeds, but I still wound up double-checking the bike/brakes, etc. Last night, the late sun did not get under the clouds on the horizon, so when it first darkened from shade under the clouds, it never brightened again.
Another downer was that several people had told me it was 20 miles to Colorado City, but the one who said it was 30 miles was correct.

I had a bad moment (now I was riding on I25, and 5 miles of it illegally: they like to throw bikes off when near a city because alternative side roads are available, except that the side roads disappeared 5 miles before the end of Pueblo). The bad moment came as I approached Colorado City's exit, and the info signs showed only gas and food services at the exit. Then came more info signs, but not till the last sign, just before the exit, did it show a motel there. What a relief!

Oddly, I25 is not consistently surfaced, and ride quality wasn't so great the last 15 miles. I have found as much as 3mph difference between supersmooth roads and others.

The motel had this computer available, but I was too tired last night.

Now, I am off! I expect to get to New Mexico today. Depending on wind and hills (it is sunny) and possible scattered thunderstorms, my initial target is a place called Raton. Time permitting, and motel availability in my favor, I'll go farther.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Colorado Springs

Gregg here: Bob called today to both report on the latest and to gauge how hurt my feelings might be based on his last commentary. I told him that he hadn't used good judgment in criticizing me so openly and before the finish of this adventure since I still have editorial control and can easily insert a ton of disparaging content! But, then again, this is his forum, not mine and with all that I have on him, far be it for me to not take pity on the guy.

Given Bob's adamant stance that he shouldn't cheat any miles out of the ride, he left early Sunday morning to ride about 40 miles so that he could make up the difference that he described in his earlier post. He rode several paths including one that was adjacent to a reservoir, called Dam Road. With a few wrong turns and other adventures, he got in his 40 or so miles and late in the afternoon headed south towards Colorado Springs, a distance that he estimated to be 70 miles. He had a tough go of it though and often found that his speed was in the single digits with maximum bursts up to only 13 or 14 miles per hour. He stopped now and then to check his gear to verify that it wasn't a mechanical reason for the slow rate of speed.

At one point, he decided that he needed to ask advice from some locals about the location of motels. He knocked on the door of a nice house and was told that it was only about 10 miles to the outskirts of Colorado Spring and that it was mostly downhill. He was also told that this town or area, known as Larkspur, was about 7,000 feet above sea level, thus explaining why Bob found it so hard to generate any sustained speed.

As has been the usual case, he was very warmly received and was offered to come in for a dinner featuring what was described to be some very special beef, "straight from Chicago". (Bob mused that the beef must have come from Colorado or Nebraska originally; who associates quality beef with Chicago?!) Bob accepted, enjoyed a nice meal, filled up his water bottles and decided to shove off even though by this point, it was already dark. He's not yet ridden in the pure darkness, but he continued on with his bike lights illuminating the way and with his jacket on (it had gotten chilly). He could see the white traffic stripe beneath him but for the earlier portion of this night ride, there were no material shoulders. There were some slight hills initially, but he then descended about 2,000 feet over the course of three miles; these are estimates since he couldn't see the data on his cyclometer. He was occasionally blinded by the lights of oncoming cars and couldn't see approaching road debris that clearly, but he managed to get through it and settled in at the first motel in Colorado Springs that he encountered.

He's leaving Colorado Springs today and will easily make it into Pueblo, Colorado as it's only about 45 miles or so. Once in Pueblo, he'll ask locals about motel locations between Pueblo and Albuquerque, New Mexico and plan the rest of today's ride and subsequent rides accordingly. From Albuquerque, he'll head west on or alongside US 40 which will take him straight into Los Angeles. According to MapQuest and my calculations, Colorado Springs is 380 miles from Albuquerque which itself is another 780 miles or so to L.A. This southern route definitely adds miles, but will largely avoid the 10,000+ foot monster climbs in the Rockies.

Gregg

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Caught a break

I left the bike for repair in Denver this morning. I had been unable to shift onto the big front gear without derailing, and could not shift at all onto the small front ring. If I had to have only one ring to be in, at least the middle was the best of the three. They told me the front derailleur (sp?) was worn out and that they can be expected to wear out anywhere from 2,000 miles on. Then they offered me an upgraded derailleur, which I accepted.
When I came to pick it up, it turned out that my derailleur was fine - it was just missing a pivot bolt, whatever that is. Besides, the upgrade derailleur wasn't made for this particular model and would not have fit. I got out for only $15 for the fix. The Gordon finally won one!
You know, I am a compulsive editor, even if I do not catch all my own mistakes in the monthly newsletter. So I am always surprised how Gregg gets so many little details wrong, mostly because we communicate by phone, and pronunciation/cell service quality intrudes. And I rarely remember to spell out key words. So the town of North Platte came out N. Flat, and Julesburg came out Jewelsburg. Then too, I speak in a rush and probably garble the message myself. But for anyone who may actually be trying to spot these places on the map, I suppose it can be frustrating. (Sorry, Gregg, I know you try your best. It is the situation ... and my compulsiveness.)
Now that I am at my oldest son's place in South Denver, it is a good feeling to be somewhat caught up on my e-mail and to have a full set of clean clothes for when I set out tomorrow.
I have not told Michael that I need a ride back to Hudson, Colorado, to complete the trip as though I hadn't had him pick me up there last night. One advantage: I may be able to skirt much of Denver without getting much into it, assuming I head south. Ooops. Cancel that. Mike can't take me back there tomorrow morning. I will ride 20 miles out in some other direction than south (my chosen route to LA) and then back, to make up the 40 miles I missed last night.
I think I forgot to say that I got caught in a thunder/lightning/rainstorm last night, 40 miles away. I got off Interstate 76 at the first crack of lightning ... I happened to be right at an exit, and I immediately went into a Mexican restaurant, named El Faro. It had a vestibule that I put the bike into to keep it and my gear dry. I had a wonderful dinner, but there was still thunder and steady rain, so I called Mike to come and get me, after first determining that no one at the restaurant would put me up for the night.
By the way, that Interstate permits bicycles. This is Colorado after all - a big big biker state (though mostly mountain bikers, not "roadies").
Another by-the-way: El Faro was the name of a wonderful tiny Spanish restaurant in the Village, in the late 60's. Inexpensive and great paella Valenciana!
As for my route to LA: I have determined that (for cars) the route through the mountains is 1,019 miles and thru Albuquerque is 220 miles further. However, I am dreadful on the hills and I do very well in heat, and even better in dry heat. If the gods are with me, the extra 220 miles is only 2 days of extra riding, and a whole lot less draining of my energy. It could even be faster!! Yesterday I was on track to do 135 miles before 8:30 pm so it is only headwinds and thunderstorms that will defeat me (and they get those in the mountains too ... just what I need when struggling at 5mph to get up a hill).
The next posting will be from my loyal (if now abused) son.
Regards to all,
Bob
PS: I believe that I still have enough time to make it to LA for the wedding in mid-August. However, one alternative plan, if time becomes critical, is to practice bicyclus interruptus. That is, I will stash the bike at some point - interrupt the ride to attend the wedding - then go back and resume the ride where it left off. Stay tuned.

Saturday, July 28, 2007

Almost in Denver

Gregg here: Last night, Bob made it to the town of Hudson, Colorado which is about 30 miles from Denver. It was a tough day mechanically; Bob's bike chain derailed 5 times and he had a flat tire on his front him. He checked the tire and tube thoroughly but was unable to find the cause of the flat, so he simply put on another tube and powered on. With thunderstorms approaching, he was faced with 20 mph winds with additional powerful gusts and he was only able to manage about 6 mph. After battling for 30 minutes against these elements and within soundshot of thunder (and with lightning sure to follow), he pulled off the road and went into a Mexican restaurant for dinner. When he came out, it was still raining and still thundering. He decided to call Michael in Denver and get a ride to his place until Saturday morning at which time, he'll get a ride back to Hudson to finish the ride. His comment was, "I don't want to fudge on the mileage."

Gregg

Friday, July 27, 2007

120 miles from Denver

Bob is in the town of Sterling, Colorado. It's 120 miles from Denver. Unfortunately, there are so few motels along the route, and he's been forced to stop for fear of not finding another before nightfall. Otherwise, he would have covered many more miles. A thunderstorm this morning delayed him and he didn't get on the road until 2 p.m. or so, but he managed to cover 60 miles in 4 hours. If tomorrow features good weather, he'll make it to Denver in one day. The forecast calls for scattered showers, so it's going to be tight. He'll be writing the next post.

Gregg

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Gregg here: Bob made it to Jewelsburg (sp?), Colorado which is in the extreme NE corner of Colorado. It's near US Route 138 and according to a trucker he met, quite near I-76 which might allow bikes. If so, Bob will take it all the way to Denver. If not, it's back to the original plan of taking US Route 138 to to US Route 6.

There are few motels en route and according to Bob's information, gleaned from those he's met, the town of Fort Morgan, Colorado may have a couple. Problem is that he's currently 178 miles from Denver and Fort Morgan is more than halfway. As such, he may not make it to Mike's in Denver tomorrow night after all, but instead arrive on Friday. The daily distances won't be a problem for Bob; he's more concerned about the winds. The temperature will be nearly twenty degrees cooler; it was 103 degrees in Ogallala last night. Bob didn't make it there last night, but instead in North Flat, Colorado. He found an inexpensive motel but it didn't have any a.c. or a fridge. Next door, however, was a bar/lounge/diner/bowling alley, and upon entering, a woman said, "Hey, you're that guy on the bike." Apparently she had passed him on the road. She offered him carte blanche at the buffet; he took advantage and then ordered a beer. She also gave him bags of ice for his drink bottles in advance of Thursday's ride.

More to come when reports back in...

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Getting Close to Denver

Gregg here: Bob finally made it to Kearney on Monday, but despite low winds, it was 94 degrees and high humidity and proved to be a tough day. Knowing that that Kearney would be his eventual destination, he was fortunate to be able to take many breaks along the way. By his estimation, he took his breaks about every 7 miles and re-hydrated, chatted with locals, etc. before finally arriving in Kearney around 7 p.m. En route, he stopped in the town of Grand Island, Nebraska and picked up one of the aforementioned Armadillos tires as well as a few other items including bungee cords to better ratchet down the bags attached to his bike frame.

On Tuesday morning, he stopped by the bike shop in Kearney to pick up yet another Armadillo tire. He asked the folks at the bike shop for their recommendations on best routes. Bob offered his ideas on three potential routes, but the bike shop guys were quick to eliminate two of them due to hills and other reasons. Instead, they recommended that Bob continue on US Route 30 past Ogallala, Nebraska and in Big Springs, Nebraska, switch to US Route 138. He estimates that this will be 7 miles from the exact northeast corner of Colorado. From there, he will head southwest until he eventually gets onto US Route 6 which will take him right into Denver, Colorado. There's no real rush since he doesn't expect to land in Denver until Thursday night. Thereafter, he'll take off Friday and visit with Michael before heading back out Saturday morning. He'll be internet-connected while at Mike's, so he'll likely issue the next post on this blog.

Gregg

Monday, July 23, 2007

Still in Nebraska

Gregg here: Bob reported having gone only 56 miles on Saturday thanks to rather hilly terrain in Iowa. I was surprised to hear this since most people, including me, think of Iowa as flat. While in Sioux City, Iowa, he had a very difficult time figuring out how to cross the Missouri. He asked four people for directions; two people were rather unhelpful while the other two were able to collectively give him enough information to find the right bridge to cross. Unfortunately, the logistics were quite difficult since upon approaching the bridge, it wasn't very clear how to get to the pedestrian/bike path which was on the other side of where Bob stood. He did see a few folks on a grassy path near the median and figured that he should follow suit. At some point, however, he knew he'd have to get past, over, or through what he referred to as a cyclone fence (I'm not familiar with that term) lest he wind up getting caught up in the vehicular traffic lanes. Sure enough, he saw why others had taken the path as there was a hole in the fence that was big enough to fit him and his bike. The whole ordeal, though, took him 90 minutes or so. Naturally, Bob wasn't thrilled with the inefficiency of things in getting to the Nebraska side. His eventual arrival, on the other side of the bridge, was to the town of South Sioux City, Nebraska.

Later Saturday evening, Bob arrived in the town of Norfolk, Nebraska. The first two motels he visited were booked. At the third motel, a young pregnant woman named Mandy also reported that her motel, a Super 8, was also booked, but Bob decided to ask her for help. She wound up calling 25 places within a 20 mile radius and again, no rooms were available. Turns out that the weekend featured a huge auto show complete with show cars, hot rods, suped-up street cars, etc. He also learned that many folks use the occasion to host family reunions, thus the booking of every available room around. Feeling discouraged and concerned, Bob asked Mandy if the Super 8 had a back room he could use or if there were any churches nearby. Just then, Mandy remembered that one of her motel rooms didn't appear on her computer screen because it was full of carpets and padding and was therefore unavailable for rental use. At Bob's request, she called and got the approval to allow him to stay there and after shifting around some of the contents of the room, he made himself comfortable. He also got a great rate of $35 for the night which included a hot breakfast! He is so grateful for Mandy's efforts that he promised he'd send a letter of commendation and appreciation.

Sunday netted him 86 miles, but it was a nasty fight with the winds. He engaged in a self-described stair-step approach by traveling south, then west, then south, etc. With the wind coming from the south, he suffered when that particular "stair" took him due south. While on US Route 30, he traveled mostly southwest and fared a bit better with the crosswinds. The weather was tough as it featured super hot and humid conditions. He eventually wound up staying in the town of Central City, Nebraska. Contrary to my prior posting, he is not yet in the town of Kearney (I misunderstood his voicemail), but he may make it there today, Monday, so long as the terrain and winds cooperate. It's approximately 75 miles away. He'll continue on US Route 30 which follows train tracks. He's thankful for that fact since the road will likely be flat and since the railway is quite busy. As such, he estimates that about 8 major trains go by each hour, some of which include 100+ cars. To him, it's a welcome distraction to count cars while he pedals along.

One more note about another previous posting; when I reported Bob's interaction with the motel owner who kicked him out, I failed to mention the guy's name. Bob read that posting and commented to me that his name provides the perfect climax and irony to the story and that he "never met a man more aptly named." Orville Putz. Enough said.

Gregg

Saturday, July 21, 2007

In Iowa, then Nebraska

Got work from Bob that he made it through Iowa, and is now in Nebraska. He mentioned something about Kansas, but from the map, I can't tell why that state would be on his route unless he angles in a southwesterly direction very soon.

In any event, his ride on Thursday was about 122 miles and he was quite happy with it. Yesterday, Friday, did not net him nearly as many miles thanks to tough winds. The winds were quite strong today as well, though they were either cross or tail winds and as such, he was able to keep on going without many problems. That is, of course, until a blowout today which damaged both the tire and the tube. He used his spares and was able to keep on moving, but he was concerned about no longer having spares and being stuck en route to Denver.

We've been unfortunately relegated to voicemail communications; his last one to me today was a request to help him find a bike shop in Kearney, Nebraska. He called Mike for help too. I found two bike shops in the town, called both, and asked both if they had the special Dunlop Gatorskin tires that Bob's become so fond of; neither did, but one did have the Continental Armadillos which are reported to be as durable as the Gatorskins. I left a message for Bob with this information as well as the address and telephone number of the bike shop, but it's not clear if/when he got it. I was hoping to hear from him tonight, but no word yet.

I'll pressure him for more details the next time I do hear back, and I'll of course post his comments. By my calculations, he's between 1,750 and 1,800 miles into the ride so far, though I could be a little off since I'm using MapQuest and trying to gauge the distance using various key point. Stay tuned for more info.

Gregg

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

A note from Bob regarding charity

Directly quoted from Bob: "I never intended to use the blog for fund-raising, just trip progress. But many have asked. Please post a comment with your e-mail address and telephone number, but I may not be able to get back to you til mid-August. If you wish, also say which charity you prefer. Thanks, Bob."

Today was a rough day

Gregg here again: Bob called today with a definite gloom in his voice. When asked how today went, he dejectedly reported that he'd only managed 25 miles or so today thanks to terrible weather. His story is as follows:

He got a bit of a late start and upon arriving in the town of Fairmont, Minnesota, he asked a local if there was a bike shop around. The guy pointed off to the not-so-far distance and warned Bob that the bike shop guy was a character. Once Bob found the place, he asked a guy working outside on some bike apparatus if Larry was around. The guy responded that Larry had moved to Mexico about 20 years ago and sold the bike shop to him for one dollar. Upon seeing Bob's reaction, the guy admitted that he in fact was Larry (last name Vogel) and was just pulling Bob's leg. The two of them enjoyed a nice conversation and thereafter, Larry refused to take any money from Bob for adjusting the cables on the bike.

I don't recall from Bob's call today when the following occurred, but he was told that thunderstorms were likely today and that they could be lengthy. Sure enough, they arrived right around Bob's visit with Larry. Larry offered Bob his shop as a place to relax and potentially sleep the night, although he cautioned that there were no "facilities" or creature comforts. At some point, Larry asked Bob to watch the shop while he stepped out. Bob has no idea where he went, but he was gone for a bit of time and eventually returned without a care in the world.

The rain stopped around 5 p.m. and Larry suggested that Bob try for the next town which was about 40 miles away. At 10 miles an hour, Bob would get there around 9 p.m., but it would involve many obscure lefts and rights and it just didn't sit will with Bob that he should travel on side roads at dusk. He instead opted to call it a day and asked Larry's friend, Greg King, for motel recommendations. I don't recall if it was Greg or Larry who offered a ride to one particular motel that was about 2 miles away, but Bob accepted and here's where it got interesting.

The motel manager was a strange fellow who offered Bob a room at a reasonable price. When Bob arrived in the room, it was unprepared and unready for guests. He asked the motel manager for another room and was provided with one that had no door locks. Bob begrudgingly accepted it. As he sifted through this gear, he realized that he left his water bottle(s) at Larry's shop. With it only being 2 miles away, he decided to cycle there but was concerned about leaving his gear in his unlocked motel room. He decided to ask the motel manager if it was okay to leave the gear with him for a short while. The motel manager, quite incredibly, said that he'd had enough of Bob's problems and to get lost! He then tore up the room slip! All of this was out of nowhere and Bob was both shocked and entertained by it all. The kicker: the motel owner's last name was Putz!! (Dad has his business card to prove it.)

He cycled back to town, found a second motel which was just slightly more expensive than the first one, and treated himself to the Chinese food restaurant (all you can eat buffet!) right next door. Tomorrow, Thursday, the 19th, he may get up super early and get a very early start to the day to make up some of the lost mileage.

He estimates that he's about 615 miles from Michael in Denver. He guessed that it's 9 days away. I suggested 8 days, but he was noncommittal thanks to the potential for hills, bad weather, attacking dogs, etc.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

In Minnesota

Gregg here: Bob called yesterday afternoon and reported that his overnight stay on Sunday night was in a town called Houston, Minnesota, about 10-12 miles west of the Wisconsin border. He managed 90 miles on Sunday alone thanks to less severe winds than those he had otherwise faced in central Wisconsin. The weather seemed to generally cooperate as well with temperatures in the mid to high 70s and only 54% humidity. As has been expected, a few thunderstorms stalled him here and there and while his route featured a mostly flat terrain, there were some moderate hills. Bob reports that it's so much easier these days to tackle them thanks to the freedom from the anchor that was his trailer. He is also fairly certain that his route will no longer include the northern pass through Montana since the additional mileage just doesn't seem to make sense. So, it's back to the original plan to go through Denver and see Michael.

On Monday, Bob got a late start on Monday morning thanks to inclement weather and choosing to sleep a bit late. Late in the day, he became concerned about where he'd find accommodations since the approaching darkened skies suggested that storms were soon to hit. Sure enough, torrential rains followed complete with hail and wind. Somehow, he made it to a town called Wyckoff and wound up eventually settling for the night in Spring Valley, Minnesota. We shared a laugh at the irony of both town names since our home town of Upper Saddle River, NJ is quite close to two towns that are similarly named. His mileage total for the day was a disappointing 60 or so miles, but he's optimistic about the ride on Tuesday.

It's now Tuesday night and sure enough, Bob had a great day. Total distance covered was 96.1 miles, his longest single day distance thus far. Turns out that the temperature was 88 degrees and with the high humidity, the heat index was about 98 degrees. He didn't seem to be bothered by it much fortunately.

While in the town of Brownsdale, Minnesota, he came to a detour in the road where the only options were to go on unpaved and gravel roads. As he studied his maps to find an alternate path, a woman stopped by to ask if he needed help. She indicated that the detour was only a mile or so long, but that the road was quite muddy. She further offered to put his bike in her car and take him to the end of the detour. Bob was naturally very appreciative and accepted the ride. Upon bidding farewell to her, he promptly got back onto the bike eager to get more mileage under his belt. Shortly thereafter, at another intersection, he found that his only options, aside from turning around, were gravel roads once again. As he told me this story, he shared his frustration that after traveling 1,300 + miles and avoiding even the smallest of rocks as best he could, here he would be forced to go though a mine field. He found that the conditions were even worse than they appeared; deep ridges that were cut by tractors were hard to see and made the 4 or 5 miles difficult and dangerous. As such, his maximum speed was 12 mph.

Later, after the gravel section, Bob stopped again to consult his maps. Just then, another woman stopped by to ask him about his trip. She seemed enthused and shared her husband's interest in cycling as well, then asked if Bob was interested in taking a short trip down the road to meet her husband who was picking sweet corn in a field. Bob was concerned about time and politely declined. He instead stopped at the cafe that was at the corner nearest to him to get a quick bite. Before he left, the husband showed up, introduced himself and they shared a few brief stories. He also helped Bob with setting forth a navigation plan to go around the town of Austin. The directions were helpful though not 100% perfect, but Bob's a natural when it comes to finding his way.

He eventually found his way to a town called Blue Earth, Minnesota. Shortly after arriving, a guy in a gas station across the street waved at Bob and asked him to come over. Bob obliged and they engaged in the type of conversation that he has been accustomed to... where are you going, why, etc. He asked the man for his advice on motels, food, etc., and was advised to try out an original root beer parlor in town. Sure enough, Bob stopped by and enjoyed a frozen custard along with his root beer. He eventually had to choose between a Super 8 motel and a place called AmericInn; he chose the latter and saved 25% while enjoying a spacious and clean suite with many amenities.

He confirmed that he will be going through Denver after all. It's not clear if he'll simply stay overnight or stay an entire day with Michael. More to come on that.

Feel free to leave comments to this and/or other posts. I am relaying them to Bob regularly.

Gregg

Monday, July 16, 2007

Photo of Bob

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

Sunday, July 15, 2007

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

Saturday, July 14, 2007

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!

Sunday, July 8, 2007

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

Friday, July 6, 2007

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

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

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.

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

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