"Are you?" I responded. A moment later (and a moment ago), I slumped under the picnic table to avoid more lights. Maybe it's best to put the phone away for the night. 125 miles makes me sleepy anyway.
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Saturday, July 9, 2011
125 miles to Defiance
There are no typos above. Indeed, we rode 125 miles today and indeed, we're in the town called Defiance, Ohio. Fitting, as it defied our expectations of having a state park with a campground. Instead, we rolled into the Independence Dam State park just in time for sunset to find that there only *used* to be a campground. After zipping through the eight stages of grief and throwing a small temper tantrum, I cleaned up as best I could with my arsenal of Wegmans brand wipes and we convinced a local pizza shop it was okay to deliver here. Now, we're getting ready for sleep and hoping we don't get caught bring vagrants in the park. As we dashed behind a tree to avoid being in the stream of passing headlights a minute ago, Aaron said, "I'm too old and responsible to be hiding from the man."
"Are you?" I responded. A moment later (and a moment ago), I slumped under the picnic table to avoid more lights. Maybe it's best to put the phone away for the night. 125 miles makes me sleepy anyway.
"Are you?" I responded. A moment later (and a moment ago), I slumped under the picnic table to avoid more lights. Maybe it's best to put the phone away for the night. 125 miles makes me sleepy anyway.
Friday, July 8, 2011
the best and worst of mootis: week one
Many of you, dear readers, know that my cycling companion is a man of many nicknames. Perhaps the most popular nickname these days is "Mootis." So, now we're all on the same page reference-wise. At the request and suggestion of our friend Brad, I am here tonight with the first of what I hope will be an eight part weekly series: The Best and Worst of Mootis. (And heck, who says I should stop this once we get home?)
After receiving Brad's request via the Twitter, I spent the good part of the rest of today's ride thinking about what Mootis Moments from the last week really stood out. (Aside: for the record, we had a pretty decent day of riding despite waiting out the rain til after 11 a.m. - 68.1 miles total, landing us in the freight train section of a campground in New London, OH.)
So, without further ado:
BEST MOOTIS MOMENT, WEEK ONE: Two nights ago, we rolled into the Terrace Lakes Campground as the sun was setting and no staff people were to be found. What looked like what was once the bathhouse was a pile of cinders by the front gate. Mootis proceedex to walk us around the completely deserted campground, past the campers that sit empty til the weekends, until we came upon a few guys drinking Busch Lights by an end site trailer. I saw them eyeing Mootis up as soon as they saw him. Let's just say these didn't look like the type of guys who like being approached by a hairy man clad completely in spandex. Mootis staggered through a few moments of awkward explanation while I hung back semi-hating myself for being part of this sporty duo, and suddenly Terry, the sunburnred, ponytailed gentleman in the muscle shirt was giving us a ride in his golf cart back to our bikes, then we loaded our bags in the back of the cart, pushing the empty Busch cans aside, and we pushed our suddenly lighter bikes up the big hill behind Terry and his cart to a site right near the second bath house, which we'd have been lucky to find on our own, let alone while hauling our massive loaded bikes up the hill. So, cheers to you, Mootis, for breaking the spandex barrier, making a pal, and allowing me not to work so hard.
WORST MOOTIS MOMENT, WEEK ONE: This will be a less detailed description, but trust me when I tell you it's for the best. I'll just say that in our hotel room in Pittsburgh, I walked out of yhe bathroom and found our friend Mootis in a very compromising position with the Chamois Butter (or, "Chammy Butter," as we say). This substance is what we use to prevent terrible rawness in our nether regionz, by the way. My sense is that it is more essential for dudes than for girls. "Oh c'mon," you might say, "You've lived with this guy for more than two years and have been with him for more than three. How bad could it have been?" I'll just tell you that an image has been burned in my mind's eye and everything is different now.
As it turns out, both of these moments can be filed under the category of "shameless." I wonder if that will become a running theme.
After receiving Brad's request via the Twitter, I spent the good part of the rest of today's ride thinking about what Mootis Moments from the last week really stood out. (Aside: for the record, we had a pretty decent day of riding despite waiting out the rain til after 11 a.m. - 68.1 miles total, landing us in the freight train section of a campground in New London, OH.)
So, without further ado:
BEST MOOTIS MOMENT, WEEK ONE: Two nights ago, we rolled into the Terrace Lakes Campground as the sun was setting and no staff people were to be found. What looked like what was once the bathhouse was a pile of cinders by the front gate. Mootis proceedex to walk us around the completely deserted campground, past the campers that sit empty til the weekends, until we came upon a few guys drinking Busch Lights by an end site trailer. I saw them eyeing Mootis up as soon as they saw him. Let's just say these didn't look like the type of guys who like being approached by a hairy man clad completely in spandex. Mootis staggered through a few moments of awkward explanation while I hung back semi-hating myself for being part of this sporty duo, and suddenly Terry, the sunburnred, ponytailed gentleman in the muscle shirt was giving us a ride in his golf cart back to our bikes, then we loaded our bags in the back of the cart, pushing the empty Busch cans aside, and we pushed our suddenly lighter bikes up the big hill behind Terry and his cart to a site right near the second bath house, which we'd have been lucky to find on our own, let alone while hauling our massive loaded bikes up the hill. So, cheers to you, Mootis, for breaking the spandex barrier, making a pal, and allowing me not to work so hard.
WORST MOOTIS MOMENT, WEEK ONE: This will be a less detailed description, but trust me when I tell you it's for the best. I'll just say that in our hotel room in Pittsburgh, I walked out of yhe bathroom and found our friend Mootis in a very compromising position with the Chamois Butter (or, "Chammy Butter," as we say). This substance is what we use to prevent terrible rawness in our nether regionz, by the way. My sense is that it is more essential for dudes than for girls. "Oh c'mon," you might say, "You've lived with this guy for more than two years and have been with him for more than three. How bad could it have been?" I'll just tell you that an image has been burned in my mind's eye and everything is different now.
As it turns out, both of these moments can be filed under the category of "shameless." I wonder if that will become a running theme.
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Bike Route S: So long, ol' friend.
While I can't say I'll miss the terrain we faced in Pennsylvania, I'll miss the ease with which we navigated through the state. From Day 1 when we left the Valley Forge trail until Day 6 when we headed into Pittsburgh, the little BicyclePA Route S West signs pictured above were our guiding light. Now, we're doing things the old fashioned way with the maps Aaron has of Ohio and Indiana, plus the new fashioned way with my smartphone and Google Maps. It's worked out fine so far, but of course we miss not having to think too hard about where to go.
There were a few moments when we certainly questioned Bike Route S - it led us up (and eventually down) three official mountains and we were occasionally on roads that were seemingly unsafe for bicycles. But we had many miles of the Great Allegheny Passage, the old rail trail that was nice and flat, as well as some great views from atop the aforementioned mountains. But what I seem to notice most while pedaling along isn't the views, but the road itself, and the things most closely surrounding it. When you've chosen to travel the way we have, you spend a lot of time looking at the ground in front of you, either to make sure you're not about to roll over a pothole or off the road's tiny-to-nonexistent shoulder, or because you're huffing uphill at 3.7 miles per hour and all you can do is put your head down and deal with it. I've distracted myself with wildflowers, I've seen (and smelled) roadkill in varying states of decomposition, I've noticed that Pennsylvania takes better care of its roads than Ohio does. I've wondered if patched up spots along the side of the road are in fact safer than their jagged-edged counterparts. Riding on roads with rumble strips is terrifying not just because of the jolt they give you if you happen to coast over them, but because they suggest that drivers might do the same.
I imagine that as things flatten out as we continue through Ohio and into Indiana and Illinois, I'll probably look up more than I did through central and western Pennsylvania. In a way, I hope that's the case, at least for my neck's sake. Plus, wouldn't want to miss a second of those cornfields, right? But I also imagine that no matter what, I'll still be scanning the edge of the pavement for the next few thousands of miles, looking for whatever's there to be noticed and avoided.
day 8, rainy morning
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Thursday, July 7, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
ohio welcomes us
Bad news: Crossing a state line headed westward late in the day = crappy celebratory photo quality
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"shoppe" must mean it's fancy
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quick thoughts on pittsburgh
It's way past my biking bedtime, but we've splurged on a hotel in downtown Pittsburgh tonight (real bed! real shower!) so we're getting our money's worth and sleeping in tomorrow. (This means sleeping til 8 rather than 5:30 or 6:00 - not sure when I signed up for this aspect of the craziness). Anyway, here are some impressions I've had in my first few hours in this town :
- Pittsburgh, an unfinished trail and an assortment of arrowed signs, some leading to dead ends, others leading to treacherously shoulderless roadways, do not make a reasonable "recreation path." I put my life in your hands, for gosh sakes, and almost lost out.
- Pittsburgh, why do so many restaurants here close before 9? Even the really popular ones near the baseball park on a night when there's a game?
- Speaking of, Pittsburgh, nice baseball park! And good call shutting that bridge down during the game for fans and vagrant cyclists.
- Pittsburgh, after affiliating myself with two places that claim to be losers sportswise but really aren't in recent years, it was awesome to see your fans so happy about a single win and an above .500 record.
- But seriously, Pittsburgh, what's the deal with the roads you claim can be walked or biked on, but can really only be driven on at speeds of at least 75 miles per hour?
- Pittsburgh, you have a funicular!? That is so badass. Can I take it across the country?
- Pittsburgh, an unfinished trail and an assortment of arrowed signs, some leading to dead ends, others leading to treacherously shoulderless roadways, do not make a reasonable "recreation path." I put my life in your hands, for gosh sakes, and almost lost out.
- Pittsburgh, why do so many restaurants here close before 9? Even the really popular ones near the baseball park on a night when there's a game?
- Speaking of, Pittsburgh, nice baseball park! And good call shutting that bridge down during the game for fans and vagrant cyclists.
- Pittsburgh, after affiliating myself with two places that claim to be losers sportswise but really aren't in recent years, it was awesome to see your fans so happy about a single win and an above .500 record.
- But seriously, Pittsburgh, what's the deal with the roads you claim can be walked or biked on, but can really only be driven on at speeds of at least 75 miles per hour?
- Pittsburgh, you have a funicular!? That is so badass. Can I take it across the country?
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Tuesday, July 5, 2011
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