Day 46: Monroeville, IN to Wabash, IN

June 27, 2008

70.92 miles, 5:36:37 Ride Time, 12.63 Average Speed, 27.89 Maximum Speed

I got an earlier-than-usual start - so early that the Whippy Dip (the premier dining establishment in Monroeville) wasn't open. Instead, I stopped at a gas station on the way out of town for a sandwich, but, finding it inedible, tossed it in the trash after one bite. Even the scrawny cat hanging around the store didn't want to eat it.

I stopped in Hoagland, about ten miles down the road, for a second attempt at breakfast, and this time found some acceptable sausage-biscuits, donuts, and chocolate milk. They handed me the cyclist log book, and I found I was the first rider to stop there this year.

Several flat miles down the road, near Yoder, three dogs ran out at me, and despite using most of my remaining pepper spray on them, it took a while to get away. Maybe it's time to start carrying a sharp stick, like Shamus, from Day 5.

It continued to be nice, sunny, flat and mostly windless as I rode past corn, wheat and soybean fields. Despite a few attempts, I failed to take an even mildly interesting photo of a soybean plant, or a field of soybean plants.

After Zanesville (pop. 602), I entered a 30+ mile section with no services - not even a pop machine. I continued to ride on flat, straight, traffic-free roads past fields of - you guessed it - corn, wheat and soybeans.

When I reached Salamonie River State Forest, the terrain finally changed for a few miles. The trees provided some welcome shade, and the little hills interruped the super-flat monotony of the last few days.

Around this time, I stopped at a house to verify one of the turns with some local people:

"Does that road go to the reservoir?"
"Why, I don't know; I've never [despite living here all my life, probably] turned that direction."

It always amazes me when people don't know the locations of things near their homes (in this case, literally a half mile away). I find it hard to relate to such an intense lack of curiosity about one's surroundings. (In fairness, it is possible that I suffer from a freakish surfeit of curiosity, given that I've spent a month and a half riding a bicycle slowly around the country, writing about and photographing all sorts of mundanities.)

A few miles later I reached Lagro (pop. 454), where, despite my map's warning that it contained only a post office, I was happy to see a few businesses. The first place I stopped at sold only beer and liquor, and the guy there seemed slightly offended when I asked if they sold soft drinks. He contemptuously (I imagined) directed me to the gas station up the street, where I found what I was looking for.

I was in there about fifteen minutes, and when I walked out, the sunny sky had turned dark. I decided to head for Wabash, about seven miles away. As I rode toward what was clearly a thunderstorm, a guy in an old pickup truck slowed down as he passed me, smilingly called out "You're about to get wet!", then roared off in his muffler-less heap. Thanks - that was certainly helpful. A minute later, a woman passed by, then pulled off onto the shoulder in front of me. "Put your bike in the trunk, and I'll drive you to Wabash. My husband just called and said the rain is moving this way." I briefly considered it, but then, after thanking her, decided to ride a quarter mile to a house and wait out the rain there.

The sky opened up just as I got under the front porch of the house. I rang the doorbell, asked the woman if it was OK to hang out on her porch for a while, and after receiving her assent, spent twenty minutes there.

It was easy riding into Wabash (pop. 11,743), where I checked into a slightly old, but perfectly acceptable Knight's Inn (half the cost of the Holiday Inn Express!). Joy Santee was driving up to meet me, and I learned, after I called to inform her that I had quit before the town of Peru, my original destination, that she was already nearby.

We drove downtown to the Market Street Grill and had a good dinner there, after which Joy encouraged me to attempt to eat an eight-inch tall piece of peanut butter pie. Surprisingly, I was unsuccessful - the pie was good, but it was like eating an entire jar of peanut butter, and I left a small portion unfinished. Shameful.

Afterward, we walked next door to Modoc's Market, a cool place, where we learned all about Modoc, a circus elephant that rampaged through the area in 1942. Modoc is apparently one of the biggest things to ever happen in Wabash ("First Electrically Lighted City in the World!") The girl handed us a sheet with the story, which (spoiler alert) ends with Modoc's owner stating "Modoc is contented and glad to be back with the other girls. It is nice to see her become a nice fat girl again." A feel-good story.

No soft drinks at this place in Lagro. They seemed slightly offended that I even asked.

I waited on this porch, outside of Wabash, for about twenty minutes while it stormed.

Still trying to gain weight, by attempting to consume this gigantic piece of pie

It was good, but it was like eating an entire jar of peanut butter. I couldn't finish it.

Joy Santee at Modoc's Market, where we learned all about Modoc, "the most famous elephant in America"* *For one week in 1942

[Doc 5163]

Today's ride: 71 miles (114 km)
Total: 3,334 miles (5,366 km)

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