July 17, 2020
the candy kitchen, an unwelcome tailwind, heat index, wyoming, donorcycle
Day Four: Muscatine to Wyoming
After waking up at 7:00, it took a couple of hours to eat, pack, and load the bikes. Since our campsite was off the route we used google maps to wend our way back. However, as I’d learned from my training rides, google maps can’t distinguish between a paved road and a gravel road, so it was slow going for the first couple of hours until we got back on the route at Taylor Avenue.
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We had a hot tailwind which, oddly, is even worse than a hot headwind. With a hot tailwind you get no breeze. Your speed is the same as the breeze, so it feels like it’s 150 degrees in absolute stillness without the evaporative cooling effect of the wind, and you get very hot very fast.
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We detoured into Wilton to go to The Candy Kitchen, which is on the National Register of Historic Places (but not, for some reason, mentioned on the ACA maps). The building in which it’s located was built in 1856, and historians trace a candy shop on this spot as far back as the 1860s. I was told it’s the oldest continuously operating soda fountain in the world, and googled it (a sure-fire reference source) but found that Goolrick’s, which has been in operation since 1912, is listed as the oldest. Interestingly, Wilton’s Candy Kitchen dates back to 1910, two years before that, when Gus Nopoulos came to Wilton and rented the place to make chocolates and sell soda and ice cream. I don't believe it ever stopped operating. Regardless, it’s a small piece of history.
I sat where Gregory Peck ate his lunch and ordered a turkey and ham sandwich and a vanilla Coke seltzer just like he did, but I did it with less panache. I also added a “black and white,” a chocolate shake made from vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup instead of chocolate ice cream. There's a booth where Brooke Shields once ate, and we got pictures of each of us in both. Because this was the height of the pandemic, the Candy Kitchen was one of the few public buildings we entered during our entire trip, and the only one in which we removed our masks. Since there were no other customers present the entire time we were there, it seemed a mitigated risk.
By the time we left the temperature had become uncomfortably warm. The swelter wasn’t too bad when we periodically turned east or west, but it was brutal going north because the southerly wind matched our pace. Karen was having some problems with her knee, and was also a bit frustrated about shifting as she continued her near-vertical learning curve. I let her know that for never having shifted a bicycle prior to six weeks ago what she was doing was astonishing.
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For this trip I had some potential places to stop with friends but didn’t know where I’d end up each night, so I couldn’t always let them know beforehand when, or even if, I’d be staying with them. When we stopped in Bennett I called my friend Steve, who lives in Wyoming (pop 523). I know him from work, but when I phoned he didn’t recognize my voice (I was out of context since I wasn’t at work). The background noise made it worse and he became very confused.
“WHO IS THIS?” he yelled skeptically above the motor of the 18-wheeler he was driving.
“MARK! FROM WORK!” I yelled back. “MARK BINGHAM!”
“WHO??”
“MARK! IT’S MARK!!”
We went back and forth for at least thirty seconds until he figured it out, after which his tone changed dramatically. Later I learned that there’s another Steve with the exact same first AND last name among the 523 residents, and he thought I was trying to contact the other one.
The temperature continued to climb, and it was “unseasonably hot” according to the weather forecasters. When we started running low on water, not ideal when it’s 95 degrees, we stopped in Lowden (pop 807). Karen waited outside with the bikes while I went into the grocery store, a large building which was completely deserted except for one person. The owner/cashier was running bags of groceries outside to his customers.
Once I had a gallon of water and two smaller bottles of very cold water in hand I went back outside to find Karen, one of the most personable people I’ve ever met, chatting with a woman of at least 85. She had seen our bikes and was curious about the trip. I usually get a lot of questions on a bike trip, but because of the pandemic we haven’t seen as many people out and about. The frigid water went down nicely and after filling our bottles from the gallon jug we took off again.
By this time the heat index was 105. Something you should know about the heat index: if a weather reporter says the words “heat index” and “temperature” in the same sentence, it’s like a Harry Potter spell. It means that, regardless of the stated temperature, as soon as you step outside your skin will immediately start blistering, then catch fire, after which you’ll spontaneously combust. Your ashes then float upwards, upwards, upwards into the sky. This is a known fact.
In Oxford Junction (pop 424) we stopped in the shade for a 45-minute break and a snack across the street from their tiny City Hall. I was imagining a meeting:
"Do I hear a motion about repairing the sidewalks?
"I motion we repair the sidewalks."
"Do I hear a second?"
....silence...
"Bill, there's still just the two of us in here. I'll step outside and let Randy in to second it."
When we arrived in Wyoming around 6:00 Roxanne, Steve’s wife, came out to the yard to introduce herself and to bring us some bottled water. Steve works ninety minutes away and wouldn’t arrive home until nearly 7:30. We pitched our tents and, right before we started preparing our dinner, Roxanne brought out three plates with large pieces of salmon (cooked and seasoned perfectly), baked potatoes, and a salad. It was really delicious.
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After we finished eating, Steve showed me his four motorcycles. One of them in particular is a beautiful machine, and another one of them he’s turning into a trike. They’re impressive, and he’s justifiably proud of them.
He was quick to mention early in the conversation that he always wears a helmet, which shows how well he knows me. Even if you’re wearing a helmet and obey all the traffic laws they’re extremely dangerous, which is why motorcycles are known by all doctors as “donorcycles” (as in organ donation). Ask your doctor if you don’t believe me. That’s not a judgement for those of you who ride. As long as you understand the risks, it’s a personal decision. I mean, really… how can a guy who pedaled across Beaumont on Interstate 10 say ANYTHING critical about doing something risky on two wheels? (Granted, I was Young and Dumb)
Friends and family have been texting us and telling us how hot it’s supposed to be tomorrow, with a heat index of more than 100, so we decided to wake up at 5:00 and stop riding at noon. I say “early,” but it’s just early for ME. It’ll be sleeping late for Karen. She’s one of those weirdos who wakes up at 5:00 EVERY day. I got everything organized for a quick departure tomorrow then took a Benadryl. It was suffocatingly hot in the tent, but fatigue and the antihistamine knocked me out right away.
distance: 59.6 miles
elevation gain: 2262 feet
moving time: 4:46:27
total time: 8:59:00
max speed 31.8 mph
calories: 2994
average heart rate: 94 bpm
max heart rate: 134 bpm
Today's ride: 60 miles (97 km)
Total: 213 miles (343 km)
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I sat in the same diner booth that Charlize Theron sat in.
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