Day -351: Our first overnight tour

May 21, 2020 to May 22, 2020

42 loaded miles in 2 days after a COVID-cold spring

We finally had our first overnight bike tour as a family—including the dog. 42 miles in 2 days, with one mid-ride melt-down, and a few “mechanicals” (mechanical troubles). Day One had us thinking of the Utah trip and asking ourselves, “are we crazy?” But Day Two was a different story.

The setup:- Clerie hauled the cargo bike with O. and most of the shared camp equipment—tent, tarps, food, water, etc.- I pulled the tandem recumbent with four bags (containing the rest of the camp equipment, electronics, bike tools and parts, my gear, L’s gear, and Clerie’s gear) and a third-wheel. L is a great little stoker. E is mostly dead weight, but she helps out for spurts when told.- J pulled the dog and trailer, along with two bags (containing his gear and mine).- A hauled two bags (containing gear for herself, E, and O).

Leaving Bloomington put us out on Highway 446. If you’re a local, you’ll know that you get a mix of drivers on 446, including partiers on their way to Lake Monroe. But it’s a busy route for spandex clad bike heros. It has a good shoulder for several miles, but it vanishes when you most need it it—on the slopes along either side of the lake. On either side is about a mile of 5% grade, which is respectable when you’re young, green, and fully loaded. J struggled on the ascent up the far side, and Clerie told me to take the others ahead to camp. After I left, a driver passed Clerie and J recklessly, only to get pinched between them and an oncoming vehicle. It was uncomfortably close for everyone. (In hindsight, dear reader, I wonder if I should have stayed so I could take up the lane behind the rest. But child psychology is a beast, and I’m optimistic that things will go better in the future, for reasons you’ll read about below.)

Ahead of the others, we had a potty break. O threw rocks in the water, because that’s just what he does.

Some friends of ours have some land near Deam Wilderness Area. The kids were thrilled to greet the horses while they waited a few minutes for J and Clerie to catch up.

Clerie took the cargo bike to the spigot to fetch water while I set up the tent.

Just chillin’ around camp. It's amazing what you can haul on bikes, isn't it?

Toads were the name of the game around camp. And ticks. Lots of ticks.

Angel was thrilled to wake up outdoors, but she obediently laid back down while the rest of the kids got the last of their Zs.

Our friends have a pond on their land that everyone enjoyed—especially Angel (bottom-right).

Deam Wilderness area is fantastic for biking. It’s been a place I’ve wanted to ride around for a couple of years, so it was great to be able to go, and to take the family along, to boot! We left most of the gear at camp, but J towed the dog trailer for the 12 dirt/gravel miles.

Six miles of gravel…and the fire tower – our mid-day destination – was closed. (Understandable, knowing it draws partiers, and you can’t pass each other up or down the stairs and keep your distance. We had buffs to act as make-shift masks for whenever social distancing was difficult. The weave is loose, but when you double it up, it’s better than nothing.)

We hiked from the tower, enjoying the ruins…

Getting back to the pond at camp, Angel cooled off as she had done at every puddle along the way, and scratched her back to celebrate.

Then she took a much-deserved nap. I didn’t think the old dog still had 12 miles in her (she used to run with Clerie and I as we trained for our respective marathons, but she’s slowed considerably since). But the weather was nice, we were slow, and she insisted on running the gravel route with us. Two days later, she’s a little stiff, but still happy as can be.

After 12 miles on gravel, we had a late meal, broke, camp, and began the 15-mile ride home. J had been dreading it all day, and the first mile took some time. Turned out, a loose quick-release on his back wheel (more on that later) had his rear wheel rubbing against part of the bike (the left chainstay). He also clearly had some heat exhaustion. We set the wheel, J hydrated and cooled off some (a wet buff on the neck can be fantastic, can’t it?), and his mood steadily improved.

We decided to ride in a set order when the shoulders were gone: J, Clerie, A, and myself. Taking up the rear, I would ride in the center of the lane and direct drivers to wait until they had an opening or we could pull over on a driveway or side street. Then I’d yell “car back” and we’d all make room. Nobody buzzed us. Several drivers turned on their blinkers behind us. Everyone performed well going up the big hill. At one point, a driver two or three cars behind us yelled a bit at A, as she had crept onto the grass instead of the shoulder —nervous, I think, because of the cars. I called back to her to get back on the shoulder to speed her up, only for someone to yell at us, “Get the f*** off the road!” (Never heard that one before, have you?) A cried, but kept on pedaling. When we pulled over, a passenger in the lead vehicle called out, “Bless you! And sorry for the people behind us!” We called out, “thank you!” to them—and to each car behind them. The yellers in the front seat of one car were apparently determined not to make eye contact as we smiled and waved. But a passenger in back of their car gave a tentative wave of recognition as they passed. A was frustrated for a while, but she shook the cloud of defensiveness much faster than I would have. Good girl.

Meanwhile, J said, “After they yelled at us like that, my adrenaline has me ready to ride harder up this hill just to show ‘em.” Good boy; nice to see him feeling protective of his little siblings.

We had no trouble going up the shoulder; sometimes drivers just need a little help knowing what they’re supposed to do when they’re behind a slow bicyclist.

Once up the nearer hill from the lake, we made good progress, and found the shoulder before long. The sun set as we approached town, and we were glad to have all our lights as we rode the last few miles through town. L remarked, “I get to stay up way past bed time. I’m so lucky!”

A driver in a neighborhood near ours called out, when they saw us on our loaded bikes, “Your family is so awesome for doing this! Are you almost home? Do you need an escort?” So that was a nice way to wrap things up. Good for the kids to experience the range of reactions from people, and nice to end it on a good note.

We got home just before 10pm. Clerie pulled out leftovers (including cake). And we all enjoyed leftovers as only bicyclists do. A thought she was being a bit naughty when she pulled caramel out of the fridge to go with some apple slices. When Clerie gave her the go-ahead, she could hardly believe it.

Disconnecting the dog trailer, I found that J’s axel had broken. No-name hub, rider, a couple of bags, a trailer, and a dog—I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. We’ll try a Shimano M475 on the next ride and see how it fares. But J rode that broken axel all the way home, I think. I had a tough time getting the quick release skewer out, because it had bent under the pressure.

Cheap hub + extra weight = dead axel. Makes me glad for the White Industries hub on the back of the tandem; two riders, four bags, and a trail-a-bike with a third rider; a stock hub might struggle.

Other mechanicals mainly involved things being too loose. My rear quick release was too loose on the ride out, so after applying some torque to the pedals, my rear wheel rubbed against the left rim brake pad—a ten-second fix. L’s crankarm shorteners and some nuts under a saddle started coming loose, a bolt on the Yuba’s “monkey bars” came out, as did a bolt on A’s pannier rack. Duct tape remedied the monkey bar situation, and a frame screw borrowed (in exchange for duct tape) from a bottle cage secured the pannier rack. It’s all making me appreciate Loctite; I’ve always used grease for just about everything. But when you need things to hold together day after day…

So the first day had us a bit shaken up—getting buzzed by the car and dealing with a tired, frustrated teenager on a shoulderless uphill just nine miles in…well, something had to happen just a few miles out to make us question things, right? But his triumph – after his doubts and dread – were a payoff moment.

In fact. everyone did really well. All the kids got scratches, some got bruises, but all showed grit, and all of them were in the groove by the end.

As L said, when we got home, “It gets better the more you do it.”

P.S. Some other lessons learned: Researching gear beforehand pays big dividends; the used MSR Dragonfly and Patagonia jackets were winners. The bungee cord mesh doubled the utility of the Yuba Mundo’s front basket. Duct tape is a life saver, though zipties would have been more assuring. And extra bags are wonderful—leaving stuff loose in a pannier bag is a huge inconvenience later, when you either have to rummage or remove the bag. All newbie lessons, really–and all stuff we’ve all read before. But it’s good to learn it for ourselves.

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Rachael AndersonYou all are amazing! Great job, J!
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