Is this a test?

Since I was going to end the day in Gilman, IL, the exact mileage was a bit unclear. Gilman was not a part of the route covered by the bicycle maps. It certainly appeared to be close to 80 miles, which is more than I like, but certainly could do if I had to. The weather looked to be perfect, the terrain was fairly flat, so it would just be a matter of time.

The last 10 miles were to be an experiment. They would be on US 24, a former major highway before the interstates were built. This is the highway that goes directly to the next day's destination. If it is reasonable, in other words have decent shoulders to separate me from the traffic. then I would like to use it on Saturday.

Today is my last day for a while using the bicycle maps, but they should take me all day until the last hour or so.

Or so I thought. They didn't take me 200 yards. I was sure that I was on the route until I noticed a town coming up that was not on the map. Yep, I screwed up again. The nice thing about Illinois (and I think Indiana) is that most of the roads go north/south or east/west. Since the road I was on was headed south, and the general direction for the day was southeast, I just continued south until I found a good road heading east, and hopped on it. 

It worked to perfection. An early start guaranteed a reasonable arrival time at my motel destination. I just needed to keep track of what towns were coming up, in order to replenish liquids, eat, etc. At lunch everyone in the restaurant was entertained by a car, on the property next door, that drove out of the car wash, then turned our direction and ran over a retaining wall. It's front was flush with the ground, but the rear was sticking up in the air. A tow truck arrived as I was leaving.

On the way out of town, I stopped at a shop to make sure I was still on the correct highway. The proprietor assured me I was. Upon on hearing where I was going tomorrow, he urged me to stay off of US 24. 

Finally, around 2 PM, I pulled onto US 24. It was awful. Like other roads that day, it was a two lane road, but it was much busier than the back roads I had been using, and the road was in poor condition. There was a one foot shoulder, and in the middle of it was a rumble strip, so I had no choice but to ride in the traffic lane.

I will try to find a quieter parallel road for tomorrow. Today's trip was 78 miles. Tomorrow will likely be similar, if not longer. The key difference is the change in the weather. The next several days will be cloudy with possible storms on Sunday and Monday.

Back home again, in Indiana....tomorrow. 

Is this a test?

Since I was going to end the day in Gilman, IL, the exact mileage was a bit unclear. Gilman was not a part of the route covered by the bicycle maps. It certainly appeared to be close to 80 miles, which is more than I like, but certainly could do if I had to. The weather looked to be perfect, the terrain was fairly flat, so it would just be a matter of time.

The last 10 miles were to be an experiment. They would be on US 24, a former major highway before the interstates were built. This is the highway that goes directly to the next day's destination. If it is reasonable, in other words have decent shoulders to separate me from the traffic. then I would like to use it on Saturday.

Today is my last day for a while using the bicycle maps, but they should take me all day until the last hour or so.

Or so I thought. They didn't take me 200 yards. I was sure that I was on the route until I noticed a town coming up that was not on the map. Yep, I screwed up again. The nice thing about Illinois (and I think Indiana) is that most of the roads go north/south or east/west. Since the road I was on was headed south, and the general direction for the day was southeast, I just continued south until I found a good road heading east, and hopped on it. 

It worked to perfection. An early start guaranteed a reasonable arrival time at my motel destination. I just needed to keep track of what towns were coming up, in order to replenish liquids, eat, etc. At lunch everyone in the restaurant was entertained by a car, on the property next door, that drove out of the car wash, then turned our direction and ran over a retaining wall. It's front was flush with the ground, but the rear was sticking up in the air. A tow truck arrived as I was leaving.

On the way out of town, I stopped at a shop to make sure I was still on the correct highway. The proprietor assured me I was. Upon on hearing where I was going tomorrow, he urged me to stay off of US 24. 

Finally, around 2 PM, I pulled onto US 24. It was awful. Like other roads that day, it was a two lane road, but it was much busier than the back roads I had been using, and the road was in poor condition. There was a one foot shoulder, and in the middle of it was a rumble strip, so I had no choice but to ride in the traffic lane.

I will try to find a quieter parallel road for tomorrow. Today's trip was 78 miles. Tomorrow will likely be similar, if not longer. The key difference is the change in the weather. The next several days will be cloudy with possible storms on Sunday and Monday.

Back home again, in Indiana....tomorrow. 

Moving right along

Yesterday's storm seemed intense, but comparing it to the one a week earlier in Red Wing, MN, which spawned 3 tornados, the debris which I rode around and through the next day, it seemed fierce but quite as bad. At least there were no tornados, but I was surprised to turn on the news and hear of all the damage. Caught on a bicycle, in that type of storm, one has to find cover and wait it out.

The weatherman was practically giddy in describing how pleasant today and tomorrow were to be. Cooler temperatures, less humidity, etc. Well, it is true that the temperature high was four degrees less than yesterday, but that doesn't feel much better.

Without the concerns today that I potentially faced yesterday, I took my time and started a little later, around 7:45 AM. The roads chosen for the route today were good: smooth surfaces and low traffic.

My only problem was a result in the numbering system for the roads, combined with poor signage. Once I had to knock on several doors before someone answered. I explained that I thought I missed a turn on my way to Osceola. She replied "This is Osceola." Her directions then helped me keep moving.

In mid-day, I crossed over the Illinois River, which was much larger than I expected. It seemed 2/3 the size of the Mississippi. Fortunately, there was not too much traffic at the time because I am very slow on the first half, and vehicles behind me were reluctant to try to pass on the two lane bridge.

After 45 days on the road, I have probably been passed by 15,000 to 20,000 vehicles, and the most dangerous thing I witness is when drivers behind me try to pass me as oncoming traffic approaches. I have seen several close calls, but nothing that put me in any danger. It made me, in my mind, go through potential triage situations, in the event that a collision occurs.

Today's route was 63 miles, and went very smoothly. Tomorrow I will be on the bicycle map for most of the day, then I will be free lancing, map wise, until I head south near Philadelphia.

May the peace of the Lord be with you. 

Hello Illinois! It's nice to meet you.

It is 4 PM, as I write this journal. I have been in my motel room in Kewanee, Illinois for a half hour, and as I look out at the trees being whipped around and sheets upon sheets of rain falling, I think "Except for the grace of God, I would be out there in that mess."

There were two major concerns for today's ride: First I wanted to make it across the bridge over the Mississippi River alive. Secondly, there was supposed to be a severe thunderstorm coming through in the afternoon. Could I get to Kewanee before it does?

Getting up at 5 AM, I had devotions and prayer, packed everything up, and was eating breakfast a little after 6 AM. The forecast was clouds, so I did not put on sunblock at the motel, but did apply it at the restaurant, since clouds in the blue sky, were few and far between.

Stopped by a convenience store for extra water, snacks and an Illinois road map (a brilliant idea from Karen), then set off for the bridge. The road I was on was a main thoroughfare, but traffic was light that early. Before 7 AM, I was across the bridge, pedalling through Illinois. Except for a big hill at the beginning, the terrain was relatively flat. In addition, the southerly wind was coming a bit from the west side, giving me a modest boost at times.

For once, the route chosen was excellent. Good roads, Little traffic. Because of the early start, decent terrain and modest tailwind, it certainly looked like I was going to be in Kewanee long before the thunderstorm would hit. Short breaks, quick lunch, and then back to pedalling.

All day long I wondered if I would get to my motel room before the storm. A week earlier, I was in my motel room seconds before the heavens opened up. Today, however, while the clouds were accumulating, they seemed pretty docile. Maybe the storm, if there was to be one, would hit later in the evening. Even when arriving in Kewanee, it did not look like anything even approaching the status of a thunderstorm was on the horizon. The only clue I received was a couple of isolated raindrops as I pulled into the motel. Within ten or fifteen minutes, the storm hit with all its fury.

Today's trip logged in at 81 miles. To get into a motel room by 3 PM, was testimony to the early start, good riding conditions, and God's Providence, in reverse order.

For the next several days, the weather is projected to be nice. I get to meet, tomorrow, one of the Illinois Red Cross volunteers that I served with while on deployment in New Jersey a few years back.

I am in amazement at how wonderful God's grace is especially since it is undeserved. 

Restful day of rest.

Tomorrow is the big push east. First thing in the morning, I cross the bridge over the Mississippi River, and enter Illinois. Initially, I will be following the bicycling maps, but after a couple of days, I will be free lancing until I get past Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. From there I pick up the Atlantic Coast Trail maps, and they will take me near Raleigh, my final destination.

Yesterday, I felt tired. Why would that be? It was a shorter day. Was it the heat? Headwind? Accumulated fatigue? I do not know, but it will be interesting to see how tomorrow feels.

The weather tomorrow is going to be lousy. It will likely rain at different times, but the temperatures is still expected to reach 86 degrees. A major thunderstom is anticipated later in the afternoon so it would be nice if I get to Kewanee before it does. But it is over 70  miles so that may not be possible. 

UNUSUAL EQUIPMENT: The most unusual piece of equipment on this trip is my  sunglasses. Fellow Rotarian, Dr. Jim Schrader, made an unusual pair that were specially constructed for this bike. In a recumbent, the rider leans way back, sort of like in a reclining chair. The problem is that with my bifocals, this means that I am looking through the reading portion of my lenses. In the new pair, the bifocals are on the top of the lense, not the bottom.

ACHES AND PAINS: Aside from general fatigue, I have had few problems. The chafing that I experienced on the inside of one leg, went away when I applied vasaline. The only nagging problem happened the last time I camped, in North Dakota. Somehow, I pinched a nerve to my right arm, that has been painful at times, but not, ironically when I am pedalling. At first, I could hardly sit still,  and sleeping was very uncomfortable. Another Rotarian friend, Betsy Baker, a physical therapist, (and the PT to the US Ski Team) gave me some exercises to help.  The biggest difference, however, was the hot day that I left the Minneapolis area. The heat seemed to lessen the inflation in the nerve. It is not gone, but I sleep better, and it rarely affects me off the bike.

43 days since leaving Everett. I will be glad when I see Karen again.

Blessings to you all. 

Another goofy, typical day.

From a planning perspective, the only possible problem was finding breakfast in the town of Lowden. There would be no services for 33 miles, so having a good breakfast would make the day go better.

The innkeeper last night indicated that the bar served breakfast, but they were not open. I looked in the book she put together about the area, and, sure enough, there was the Cozy Cafe a block down the street. Walking to the cafe, at 7 AM, it was already warming up. The bank sign had the temperature at 77 degrees already. The humidity was high because of yesterday's rain. Ah, here is the cafe!

It is permanently closed . But wait, I see between some buildings across the street, what looks like a convenience store on the next block. That must be what the innkeeper was referring to. So I saddled up my steed, and rode to the store.

This isn't a store! It is a fuel depot. Ah, but there is a gas station/convenience store down by the next corner. It was permanently closed. Ah, there is a cafe next door! Closed. 

I had a Danish pastry and a banana to get me 33 miles. I ate the pastry and held the banana in reserve.

The comments on the map said that the terrain got flatter as one approached Muscatine. I was looking forward to a fast ride, on relatively flat roads, getting to Muscatine by lunch time. So far it was not flatter, and I was encountering a pretty good headwind, 10 to 20 mph. Up and down hills, trying to stay consistent in pedalling cadence, regardless of the bike speed. I had reported two days ago that yesterday was going to be hot. Wrong. Yesterday was rainy. Today would be the hot one, and it was feeling like it.

Already I was pondering the potential need to knock on someone's door, asking to replenish my water bottle. I try not to ration out the water I have, but drink it as I go, reaching my destination having emptied the water bottle, regardless of how many times I had replenished it.

The next town, Bennett, was large enough to have a post office and school, but no place for food. Wait a minute! What is that ahead? It is convenience store! That wasn't on my map! I ate breakfast, refilled my water bottle, and took off. Isn't it funny how things work out?  Thank you, Lord.

Pedalling was slow but steady. Lots and lots of perspiration. At last, a sign announcing Muscatine. It was noon. It took 4 hours and 15 minutes to go 38 miles, including stops. My clothing, which was soaked yesterday from the rain, then dry this morning, was soaked again.

This stop was to accomplish several things: Get the bicycle tuned up; Rest, rest rest. I have to admit that the legs were weaker than normal today. They felt, at 38 miles, how they typically feel at 65-70 miles. A day of rest is needed.

Tonight we are expecting severe thunderstorms, and also tomorrow night. Hopefully there will be enough calm weather for me to get a haircut.

I had mentioned the other day that the brakes were failing. Yesterday, it took me over 150 feet to come to a stop when I had been going 20 mph. So imagine how good I feel now with new brake pads. It can stop on a dime.

One last thing for today, I am officially over the half way point, mileage-wise and day-wise. This is the 42nd day since leaving, and I estimated a 82 day trip, more or less. And the odometer passed 2,300 miles, of an estimated 4,500 miles (I would be pleased if it were less.)

No riding tomorrow, but I will give an update on a few items.

God bless you. 

 

Hallalujah! Rain!
Okay, it was the farmers rejoicing. They got a wonderful rain for their crops today. Bicyclers, however, were not rejoicing.

The reality is that it will rain quite a bit during a trip like this. I have been extraordinarily fortunate to have dealt with very little rain (while biking) this trip.

My weather app predicted 20% chance of rain today, so I put on plenty of sunblock before taking off for the day. Last night, I researched churches in towns which I was to be passing through, to see if I could attend a service on the fly. Sure enough, there was a 10 AM service in a town called Cascade. It was about 18 miles away. I left around 7:45 AM.

Everything went well until I got to the next town, and couldn't find the highway I wanted to be on. Asking for directions, I learned two things, neither of them good. First of all, my road would be unpaved for 8 miles. Secondly, rain and lightning were expected by noon.

So I set out on the gravel road. It was slippery and slow. So slow, that it became obvious that I would not be on time at the church service. Finally, I arrived in Cascade, and came to a stop sign. One block up was the church, with a full parking lot.

I decided to attend. It was a start up congregation, but there was a lot of vitality in the service. A guest pastor delivered the sermon, and I took lots of notes. The problem is that this sermon did not seem to have an end. Finally, at 11:30, after listening for 45 minutes, with no end in sight, I left.

Across the street was a cafe, and I needed fuel. 30 minutes later, I was finished, put on my rain pants and jacket, and took off.

The rain started out lightly, then got progressively harder until it was raining hard. It is not hard to ride in rain, but the harder rain kept obscuring my vision as it coated the lenses of my glasses.

Unfortunately, there were still hill after hill, most of them not daunting, but tiring nonetheless.

Finally, with 11 miles to go, I faced another road closure. The bridge was out. What now? I headed into town to find someone local who might help. A small bar offered several helpful locals. They came up with a "work around", but it meant several miles of gravel roads. I explained that I rode 8 miles of gravel roads this morning, but they felt these would be very loose gravel and dangerous, with heavy traffic as locals used this route. I decided to try it.

The rain had packed the dirt and the traffic packed the gravel, so this road was much, much easier than the morning's unpaved portion. Before long, I was on the home stretch of paved road and pulled into my destination, Lowden, Iowa. I was absolutely, completely soaked. I hope the clothes are dry in the morning.

Tomorrow will be my last day of riding in Iowa. I have an appointment to get the bike worked on. My clothing is desperately in need of cleaning, and I need a haircut. A day of rest will follow. My start east will re-commence on Wednesday morning.

May the Lord be with you.

Map reading 101

Were I taking a class on Map Reading, I would be taking remedial classes in summer school. Today was to be a pleasant, short ride to a town called Dyresville. Despite no urgency, I was still on the road by 8 AM.

I had looked at the map, and today's ride was simple. Just stay on Hwy 13 until I get past Elkport. So I could relax, enjoy the scenery, and not be concerned with directions until later. This area is very hilly, with a number of long, steep climbs. After an hour and a half, it was time for a break. Elkport must not be too much further.

Breaks are when I check the map, see what the next towns are, check mileages, figure out where to have lunch, etc. In perusing the map, I discovered that the highway going through Elkport was not Hwy 13. I was supposed to turn off of 13 a long ways back. So much for my map reading skills. The thought of going back and re-climbing all those hills was not appealing, but might be necessary. Even though I was way out in the country, there was a farm implement repair shop across from where I was resting. What were the chances it would be open?

It wasn't. But an employee was there working, so I asked him to look at my map, and advise me as to whether I should turn around, or forge ahead, finding a new route. I could see from his expression that neither choice #1 or choice #2 were good ones. Clearly I was way past where I should have turned.

I tried to make him think like a bicycler (only with a good sense of direction) and that settled his mind as to his recommendation. He urged me to go further on Hwy 13. There was another big hill ahead, but once past it, the topography became more level (perhaps less hilly would be a better description). When a non-bicycler thinks that hills are long and steep, you can bet they are. The thought of having me go back over those hills again helped him come up with Plan B.

It started with going to the next town, Strawberry Point, then turning this way then that way, etc. There were going to be more miles than I originally scheduled, but probably no more than if I turned around. I decided to go to Strawberry Point, then get directions from there. It was 7 miles down the road.

What a cool town! With a population of 1,500, it had a vitality about it. One fellow I talked with said it hasn't changed much in 40 years, and I think that added to its charm. I asked a man for directions, and his reply ,actually made them sound simple. Perhaps my reputation had preceded me, so he was trying to talk down to my level. But the directions were: Go straight on 13, turn left on Hwy 20. It goes right into Dyresville. Mileage was 37 or 38 miles.

Outside the grocery store, a man was cooking hamburgers, hot dogs and brauts on a grill. I bought a braut. On the other side of the door was a little boy selling lemonade for 50 cents a glass. I bought two.

The next town, Manchester, was even more bustling because of a larger population base. At lunch, I got advice on following old Hwy 20 instead of the new (read that as busy) Hwy 20. On the way out of town, I saw an old movie theater featuring "Finding Dory". Every town prior to this had converted their theater into something else.

Finally, Dyresville, 12 more miles than I had scheduled. Its Catholic Church has a Basillica, built 125 years ago, with a seat for the Pope when he visits. It is the only one in Iowa. The Pope has not got the message of its existence yet, but the church is ready when he does. It is quite an edifice. I went inside, but there was a wedding going on, and me without my tie.☺ I left.

During the day, my curiosity got the best of me. The corn was so tall that I thought it had to be 5-6 feet tall. I parked the bike, walked into a cornfield to see how it measured up to my 6'3" frame. It was way taller. At least 7 feet.

We are two days away from the turning point east. It is called Muscatine, and I will take a day of rest when I get there. Tomorrow, the temperature will rise over 90 degrees again. An early departure would be helpful. Instead of attending church, I will listen to the recorded sermon from North Creek Presbyterian.

Just how lost can you get?

It should be an easy ride today, so a little later departure time shouldn't hurt.

Listening, while packing, to the tragic ambush on the Dallas policemen. I don't understand all of the black Americans getting killed, but I do know this: the great majority of police are good people. Sometimes we forget what life would be like without them. I experienced that when I worked a gas station/lodge in northern British Columbia. The nearest Mounties were 135 miles to the north and 196 miles to the south. We were the only place in a 73 mile stretch. Suddenly, I was responsible for helping to protect the people and property there. We only had to show weapons once, but I completely changed my attitude towards police power. We have to have it to maintain safe and stable communities. Clearly, there is a spate of over-reacting officers, but let us not throw the baby out with the bath water.

 Stopped in a bakery downtown. Where else can you get a large bowl of oatmeal, side order of toast, and a large glass of orange juice for $5.25?

The ride along the river was wonderful. For the first time I saw a long barge, pushed by a tug. At some point the road needed to go through some hills, and the road started to climb. Overall the area near the river had rolling hills, so travel was scenic but not fast.

Then the event which changed the day happened. A bridge on my route  was out.  I followed the detour, hoping it was a short one. That ended up not being the case. I was being directed inland straight into the hills that I could see from the river.

The bicycling maps are very good as long as one stays on the route, but the roads around the route are not well identified.

Not having a clue where I was, or where this detour was taking me, I finally spotted a couple of farmers near the road. They were very helpful, and gave me directions which would get me back onto my  original route. They asked "Do you want short but steeper , or longer but less steep?"  I chose the longer route.

The farms looked healthy and prosperous. If corn is supposed to be knee high by the fourth of July, then the Iowa farmers are ahead of the game. Their corn is 5-6 feet high.

My hope was to get to a tiny town called Waterville, and have lunch. The bar was quaint with most of the walls covered with adages, signed dollar bills, stuffed animal heads, and plaques from pool tournments. I stepped onto the deck out back and the owner was cooking my hamburger on a charcoal grill. It was delicious. I cannot help but ponder where the residents work and play. The town seemed quiet for having two bars.

 The bicycle is starting to show sign of needing a "tune up". In particular, it is not shifting well, and the brakes are on their last legs. I have gotten by with soft brakes for awhile, but I have to admit that when I came to a descent, with warning signs indicating a 9% grade, I stopped to think up a strategy. To put 9% in perspective, Stevens Pass was a 5 % grade. The Orondo Grade was 6%. Some parts of the North Cascades Highway were 7%, but rarely have I had to deal with a 9% grade. At least, I was going down, not up, but I was envisioning the possibility of gathering too much speed, more than the brakes could affect, then losing control of the bike at high speed. I gently started down, brakes engaged until I could see where the curving road went. Once I saw it was okay, then I released the brakes and let momentum take over.

The point that of that story is that in two and one half days, I will be in a big enough town that it can sustain a bike shop. I already have made arrangements to have them address my concerns. Since my bike has disc brakes, I had difficulty 8 years ago finding a bike shop that carried the parts. This time I brought spare disc brake parts with me. 

Compared to Minnesota, the roads in Iowa have not been near as bicycle-friendly. Even busy roads lack proper shoulders for bicyclers. The drivers have been courteous, but I left the road into the gravel a number of times, just to allow vehicles room to pass.

After 53 miles, I reached a B&B near Elkader, my destination for the night.

May the peace of the Lord be with you. 

I 'm due for some rain. Hello Iowa.

Checking my weather app on my phone last night, there might be a possibility of rain today. It is amazing how little rain I have ridden in since leaving Everett.

Around 4 AM, I awoke to a roaring sound. Hmm, what is it? It could be a ton of traffic on the highway, but that seems unlikely. Could it be rain? Likely. Willing myself out of bed, I opened the door, and it was raining hard. No wonder it was so loud.

It is hard to get back to sleep, then hard to get going once I got up. Another look outside, and it was a steady rain. I hate starting the day in the rain. If it rains once I have started pedalling, that is different to me. Well, on to devotions then breakfast.

Before eating breakfast, I decided to get ready to go with rain jacket and pants on. Everything going got packed, and I opened the door to go next door to eat. The rain had stopped, at least for the moment. My weather app had changed its hourly forecast to a likelihood of rain all day. I left with my rain jacket on but open. 

The change in terrain in Minnesota was striking. When I first entered the state it was flat as a pool table. As I approached the greater Minneapolis area, it started getting hilly. On either side of the Mississippi River the highway paralleling the river was relatively flat, but the west side of the highway were heavily wooded hills, one after the other. It reminded me of Tennessee or North Carolina.

The River did not look so pristine today. Between the clouds and the light wind, the water looked dark and potentially menacing. I kept waiting for the rain to re-commence, taking off my rain coat while on a break. Walking outside of a cafe, after lunch, the sun was out and the skies were blue. I went back inside to apply sun screen. 

The  River started looking more pleasant, with tons of islands and channels, great habitat for fish and wildlife.  Going through one small town, I was a little uncertain on how to get through. The only recognizable road was the Interstate, which is verboten to bicycles. Finally I found what I was looking for, a new bike path that bypassed the Interstate. The only problem was the "Trail closed" sign blocking the entrance. My options were so limited that I squeezed the bike around the blockade, and rode on. At the end of the trail, a couple of miles down the road, I discovered the problem: there was a big road work project which narrowed the southbound road to a narrow lane. For me to get on it was to slow everyone behind me down to 10 mph, but what else could I do? The lane lasted for 1/2 mile, a long three minutes with a line of cars backing up behind. But soon it was back to normal.

I entered Iowa a couple of hours after lunch.

The town I am staying in is Lansing, IA, and it is really a neat little town. Busy, funky shops and restaurants. They won me over immediately by having an ice cream store when you first enter town. After a rain, the humidity soars when the sun comes out. It is only 82 degrees but feels like it is in the nineties.

Had a nice faith talk with a local man who was working in the yard. Having been a Christian his whole life, I am sure I could have learned from him.

Four more days of riding in Iowa, then I bust out to the east again.

Blessings.