Headwinds, Hills, and No Complaints

August 31, 2005

Wabash to North Judson

Dinner last night was at Mi Pueblo and it turned out to be surprisingly good. Of course, after riding all day in the rain, I would have eaten just about anything. Two ice cold Coronas washed down my tacos and I went back to the hotel, for a popcorn nightcap. The rain had abated by 8 pm. Wabash was about 40 miles northwest of the northern most edge of the remnants of Katrina. I turned on the news and learned of the extent of the damage and was just stunned. What else can you say?

I was out cold by 9 pm my time, which is 8 pm local time. I woke up at 7 am edt, partook of the house grub, and rolled out of Wabash stuffed.

I followed SR 15 back to the Northern Tier route. State routes in Indiana are hit or miss for bicycling and, since I didn't want to be hit, I got off this truck-filled road as soon as I could.

From the get-go I encountered a steady 10 mph headwind. The breeze in the cool morning air made for a definite improvement over yesterday's dreary slog. The backroads led to Chili (the town, not the food), then to Denver. I stopped in a market and stocked up on food, including a peach that looked better than it tasted. After Denver I missed a turn, but using my Boston cabbie skills (not to mention that only a complete idjut could get lost on the midwest road grid) I was back on route within minutes.

Believe it or not, this is the second barn I saw with a tractor design in the roofing shingles.

These cows came trotting over to see me. As soon as I took the picture, the black cow in the middle peed a deluge. Nice to meet you too, bossy.

This vulture was one of six hanging out near some road kill. Funny how the scavengers show up at the end of an 850 mile bike ride, isn't it?

After Deedsville and Perrysburg, I came upon a delicate problem. The peach on top of the Mexican dinner and popcorn had created a physical urgency of volcanic proportions. I briefly considered using the open air facilities, but managed to soldier on to the town of Fletcher.

A campground in Fletcher had facilities but a sign on the door said they were for registered campground customers only. Usually I try to respect the boundaries of private property, but I made an exception today. Frankly, armed guards could not have stopped me from using that restroom. I would have gladly paid for the privilege, but no one seemed to be around. So I bought a pop from a machine out of guilt (once a Catholic...) and headed out feeling muy bueno.

No mere sign can stop a determined biker without a clue on a mission. Hell, razor wire wouldn't have keep me from using this restroom.

More corn, more soy gave way to Royal Center and a lunch stop. I talked to a local who said the Amish employees of a nearby furniture factory commute on recumbents. I'd love to get a picture of rush hour.

I took the Northern Tier west to Buffalo. In the past I have been critical of Adventure Cycling routes, but now that I have 800 miles under my belt, I see just how good they are. I turned north on SR 39 and dealt with high speed traffic all the way to North Judson, about 25 miles from Buffalo.

Follow the black line through the corn and soy and you may find redemption. But, if you're lucky, you'll find a restroom.

Okay, you own a farm, and the corn and soy are planted. So what do you do? You go out and buy some dino skeletons to put next to the barn, of course.

While I was out riding my bike, the price of a gallon of gas jumped over $3, the result of production problems at the refineries in Katrina's wake.

I had been to my in-laws' only once before and had some worries that I would get lost trying to find them on the grid. Not to worry, I found their house without a single wrong turn. My father-in-law was standing on the hill in front of the house keeping a look out for my arrival.

I rambled up the stone driveway no longer worried about flats, or rubbing brakes, or busted rims. I made it!

Yeah, baby.

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Today's ride: 93 miles (150 km)
Total: 857 miles (1,379 km)

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