Only two more days of riding, then a day of rest! Or, wait a minute, was it one more day of riding, and two day's of rest? It was supposed to be the former, but ended up being the latter. Here is how it happened.
One thing I knew for sure, I needed to bicycle my way out of Monticello. It is a hub for vacationers because of the lakes there, so traffic, in July, is higher than normal. This being a Sunday, traffic should be at a weekly low if I leave early Sunday morning. My goal was to be a good 20 miles out of Monticello before 9 AM. My intended terminus was Frankfort, iN, a mere 38 miles down the road. If things still looked good, I might shoot to Lebanon, IN, another 15 or 20 miles. This all was to prepare me for the jump into Indianapolis on Monday morning.
There were two challenges to this approach: First of all, even the roads out of town were terrible for bicyclers. No shoulder to ride on, too much traffic. Secondly, I wished to worship somewhere. My thought was to find a church service as i worked my way south.
On the road before 7 AM, a quick bite at McDonalds, and off I went. There had been talk of several storm fronts coming through this area in the next couple of days, but there was no sign of inclement weather. My, this strategy of starting early Sunday was paying off. There was a little traffic, but very little.
I came across several churches that had potential, but they either were not going to start for quite a while, or, just the opposite, they were too far into their service. I kept pedaling.
About 10 miles out of Frnkfort, I saw a country church ahead on my right. It was the Pleasant View Presbyterian Church. The service was in progress, but I found an empty pew, pulled out my notepad for note taking, and settled in to hear what God might have for me. The sermon was about prayer, and how it brings us into a special relationship with God.
Afterward, I chatted with a number of kind folks (I was in bicycling clothes, the same ones that I had ridden 79 miles in yesterday, so you might imagine how I smelled), and the last group of folks asked me to join them for lunch. I accepted. This family, spanning several generations, were the nicest, kindest folks, and made me feel welcome, indeed.
Several things popped up that gave me directions as to where to stay. Firstly, there was a low traffic road near Frankfort that helped me decide to stay in Frankfort, not Lebanon that night. Then a text came from Stu Rhodes, with whom I would be staying Monday and Tuesday nights. He suggested that it was okay to ride in to Indy today if I wished to avoid some of the projected storm activity.
By the time, we returned to the church (my bike was locked inside), dark threatening clouds were forming. So I took off fast (for me) to Frankfort. And that is when the whole direction of the day changed.
I decided to ride all the way into Indianapolis, forgoing Frankfort. It looked like I would miss the storm, which one could see, in the distance, was dropping rain. I found the low traffic road, and pedaled on.
About five miles onto this road, and 11 miles out of Frankfort, the thunderstorm found me and started raining a good hard rain, typical of the midwest. For several miles I pondered whether lightning would strike a bicycler rather than all of the metal granaries I was passing. My glasses were coated with rain, and I was unable to see approaching rear traffic, little though there was. However without the glasses, I could see the mirrors fine. I doubt that drivers approaching would expect to see a bicycler on this road in the middle of a rainstorm, and I wanted to be ready to take preventive action if they didn't. Putting my eyeglasses in my coat pocket, I pedaled on, thinking that I was an idiot for not staying in Frankfort.
Finally, the rain started to slow down, and eventually stopped. My next problem to solve involved food and water. The large lunch was burned up, and the body was screaming for food. I stopped and ate the last two snacks, granola bars. My water suppy was also close to empty. A small town called Sheridan had a convenience store. Problem solved.
My goal was to reach a rail-trail called the Monan Trail. It would take me right into Indy, within a mile of Stu's house. At this point, I was pooping out. I knew I had 50-60 miles today, and a long journey still to go. Stopping to check my map, I discovered that my prescription eyeglasses has fallen out of my pocket. All I had left was my new sunglasses with the bifocals on the top.
Eventually, by God's grace, I found the trail. Asking a couple how far it was to Butler University (near where Stu lives), I was told it was an hour by car. Oh, Lord be with me.
The trail, called the Monon Trail was a good one. Aside from being level, and beautiful, the vegetation shielded me from the headwind I had been fighting all day.
The secret to maximizing distance while minimizing effort is much easier to do on a paved trail like this. You just have enough pressure on the pedals to keep you going, and it feels like you are gliding, especially without the headwind. Ironically, it had not rained on the trail, the sun was out, all my travails today had seemed a distant memory
Sometime after 7 PM, and 89 miles after I started this morning, I pulled into Stu Rhodes's house. A long day. A long week, 392 miles in five days. I am ready for rest.
The last several days have wonderful examples of God's providence. Whether it was protection from traffic and weather, or meeting wonderful people, I am thankful for His grace towards someone who is undeserving, me.
