No tread on me.

Who is the target audience for this blog? Don't imagine it is you, dear reader, although I certainly don't mind if you read on. The true audience (part 1) is my Mom, so that she can keep track of me without having to try to call her from remote locations without cellphone service. Because of this target audience, the blog is sanitized to avoid mentioning alarming incidents. For example, I would never mention the 18 wheeler that ran us off the road and into a ditch today, that might cause unnecessary alarm.

The real audience (part 2) is myself. Bikers love to complain about stuff. That's why headwinds, flat tires, steep hills, bad pavement and similar travails are such common themes in bike journals. It makes us feel better when we vent about our difficulties, even though we know in our hearts no one else wants to hear about it.

Today I'm going to vent about tires. I started the ride with 2 new continental gator hardshell tires. These usually wear pretty well, but to be safe I arranged to have Geoff and Marty drop off a second set of tires in Traverse City, a little more than half way through the trip.

When I got a new wheel in Paxton Minnesota, the guys in the shop where I picked up the wheel noticed that my rear tire was a bit worn. To be safe, I swapped out the old gator hardshell for a brand new armadillo tire.

Perhaps there is a reason that they named this tire for an animal that flops over and plays dead in the face of adversity. After 3 weeks, the armadillo decided it did not like carrying the weight of a tandem and decided to play dead.

How in the world did we ride this without getting a blow out?

It handles all conditions (except riding more than 3 weeks).

It's pretty clear that inspecting my tires is not part of my regular routine. I hope I learned a lesson and will remember to do that in the future.

Today's entry is light on photos because it was raining (rainy day #5 for team S, #6 for team A). The forecast was for rain all day, so we didn't try our usual trick of hanging out in the motel until it stopped raining. We just headed off into a light drizzle at 9:00.

Despite the rain, the route was lovely as we headed down to Lake Michigan. We took a small road with almost no traffic. The smell of pine trees was so strong it was like kissing someone who had just shampooed their hair with Pine-sol cleaner.

US-2 often ran right along the Lake Michigan shoreline.

The Mackinac bridge awaits us tomorrow. Don't worry, we have a plan...

For the last 2 days we have been passing in and out of the Hiawatha National Forest. I feel like I should know at least a few verses of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's epic poem the song of Hiawatha, but all I can come up with is:

On the shores of Gitche Gumee, I forget the rest, so sue me.

A quick internet search shows that I don't have that verse quite right. It should be:

On the shores of Gitche Gumee,Of the shining Big-Sea-Water,Stood Nokomis, the old woman,Pointing with her finger westward,O'er the water pointing westward,To the purple clouds of sunset.

I always assumed those were the opening lines to the poem. In fact they don't occur until Midway through the third chapter of the poem.

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Anne AbbateWhen Alain was a young man he hitchhiked all over the world. He made it sound like fun, but I was sure he had experiences that would have crisped my hair if I'd heard about them. however, he was tactful enough not to tell them to his mother. I feel sure he would NEVER mention that a truck forced him into a ditch.Vita, does your mother read this?
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6 years ago

Viktoriya AbbateMy Mom loves to look at pictures, but unfortunately it is too complicated for her to read ( maybe fortunately in this case :-)).
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6 years ago