July 22, 2023
Peter Löwenbräu Griffin Sr.
DAY TWENTYSEVEN
I’m up. All of my gear was packed last night and I even turned Fanchon around to face the exit. I’m ready. I head downstairs for the waffle and find they only have one side of the mix machine tapped. Chocolate. I’ve never had a chocolate waffle so I give it a try. It’s pretty good. I’m not a fan of syrup so I add a bunch of those little butter pats on top and the extra fat and salt on top of the crispy fried batter is really tasty. I’m halfway through when the guy brings out the insert for the regular waffle mix.
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I grab a couple peach yogurts and fill my little coffee cup to the brim before returning to my room. In the elevator I’m trying to hold all of these items steady as my grip slowly loosens. I make it to my door before I quickly set it all down, spill a little coffee, and get my key card out. This is not a tap it but an insert and it takes me a moment to slide it in and back out smoothly enough to open the lock. I get the green beep, handily open and then hold the door with my right foot, carefully pickup each item and move it to the carpet on the inside of said door, and repeat. Disability challenge unlocked. I turn on the weather channel and eat yogurt and last nights left over strawberries from Kroger. They’ve frozen solid the mini fridge and are delicious alongside the peach flavored Dannon.
Today is a big day. I’m riding from the E side of Indianapolis to Richmond and that means I’ll be home the next day. Am I really that close? Yes. Woah, almost home. In addition to proximity a good friend and riding buddy, Virgil, left Dayton yesterday by bike and got a hotel for two nights in Richmond. He has my route and will ride towards me today until we meet and return to his hotel tonight. I’m officially spoiled with all these clean sheet beds and folded arrow toilet paper rolls next to spotless porcelain. I’m losing my edge. Anyway, we’ll ride together back into our hometown full of joy and camaraderie.
On the road I find a chilly start. I noticed a random Buddhist temple on the map and pull in for a quick bowing session and to admire the stone Buddha statues. They have potted plants neatly arranged on the perimeter a building that I don’t enter. It’s early and I don’t hear any bells. I chant my motto - Everything that ever was is or will be is both temporary and in motion - and I’m back to pedaling.
A bike path leads me further E before I pass an older couple pushing brand new bikes, still tagged and shiny, up a small incline. They’re fine and doing their thing and I turn onto the avenue that cuts over to Rt 40, National Road. Lo and behold this section of the 40 has a bike lane that takes me all the way to the E side of Greenfield, but not without a pitstop at a donut shop. Two women handle the crowded shop in the Saturday morning rush. They expertly push donuts onto the undecided and after opening every conversation with the question, box or bag? They’re quick-witted and funny and tell me I can pay with my phone if I’m willing to step behind the counter. The donuts are insanely good and the coffee is about the worst I’ve ever had. I ponder any correlation.
31 miles in and I find V taking a break in front of an antique shop decorated with hubcaps leaned against the remnants of a long wooden bench now crumbling to termite dust. He’s on his phone and finishes typing before looking up and calling my name even though I’m standing right in front of him. V is 71 going on 15, 6’4” and lanky in a way that says I’d stand here all day if it suited what I’m doing. He’s strong on the bicycle, and fast, especially as I see he’s arrived on a brand new all black carbon fiber road bike he’s appropriately named Wednesday. He wears loafers over tall colorful supports socks, padded lycra shorts and one of his favorite kit shirts with rainbow images of the Wright Brothers and fixed wing airplanes. His helmet flashes beside him before he screws it onto his bald ass head and asks if I’m ready. I pull out an apple and my sunscreen and sit down on a table nearby, nope. That’s fine, he says. Everything is always fine with this guy and I wonder if that’s part of why we get along so well.
The roads to Richmond are still plenty with a detour and a few slow incline hills. We talk about lunch but I never stop. He stops though, every couple miles to wait for me to catch up! I tell him this is the curse of CF bikes, you simply spend more time waiting for the folks you’re riding with to get to where you already are. I’m on a steel 1994 Trek 520 with four panniers, a handlebar bag and a chair strapped to my rear rack. Different landscape, same world.
Much later we’ve returned to the hotel. Both bikes in the room, he showers and we start the laundry as I can’t shower until I have something clean to put on. There’s plenty of shampoo here and a shiny new Jeffrey exits the Holiday Inn with his friend Virgil headed towards the Culvers nearby. We’ve settled on this place for dinner because I’ve been craving onion rings since the Indy Cycle Specialist shop and now I’m going to have them come hell or high water. And they have ice cream.
Fat and happy we watch Family Guy reruns. Tomorrow I’ll be home and I fall asleep thinking about all of the last things I’ve already done on this tour - last time I camped, last time I charged the battery backup, last time rolled the bike through a lobby and onto an elevator while the patrons stared and wondered what kind oof life I’m living, last time I filled all my bottles and put on my riding gloves, last time I saw my wife in person and squeezed her up. I’m coming home.
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1 year ago
1 year ago
Today's ride: 70 miles (113 km)
Total: 1,073 miles (1,727 km)
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