On the Psychogical Benefits of Aspercreme

First of all, I stand corrected. Alex pointed out to me that having faced down 23 spiders at once (spiders with five o'clock shadow, cigarettes dangling from their fuzzy little lips, all of their names ending in a vowel...) would make it easier to deal with one spider in the future. Alex is tougher.

We made it to Petoskey by lunch time on Wednesday in a quick 24 mile ride. This gave us plenty of time to wash the laundry before going out to see a movie. The goal was to get a good night's rest before the long ride to Traverse City on Wednesday. The tough part about riding to and around Petoskey is that it has gigantic, steep hills. Also, we suspect there is a perpetual mid-latitude hurricane swirling around the area with its eye centered on the city, since we always have bad weather trying to get there. Throw in some bears, and you've got the place your mother always warned you never to go. The nice part about riding around Petoskey is that there are a lot of nice trails for cyclists, keeping you safely out of the rush of traffic.

As planned, we got up early Thursday morning and headed out in the cold to Traverse City. The Canadians felt the need to send us some 40 degree weather overnight. (Thanks a lot, Canada!) It did warm up and turn out to be perfect riding weather. For future reference, though, 31 is not a desirable  road to take. Occasionally there is a nice, wide shoulder to ride on, and there are some great farm markets along the way at which to stop for a healthy (or not - your choice) bite to eat. But much of the road has a narrow shoulder and a ton of traffic, and many of these people are in a tremendous hurry to get somewhere. It's kind of like when a snowstorm is headed for southern lower Michigan, and everyone races to the convenience stores to stock up on Camels and Pabst Blue Ribbon. Narrow shoulders + high traffic= stressful riding.

The ride to TC was 64 miles. Longer rides require a different mental strategy.  It's helpful to be aware  so that when you're spending too much time focusing on the burning sensation in your muscles, you can readjust so you don't miss out on the landscape you're passing. I think I missed a lot yesterday. With long distance, high traffic, and hills came more neck and shoulder and hand and everything pain, which I found very distracting. Once we had camp set up in the evening, I pulled out the container of Aspercreme I'd been carrying the entire trip. Alex didn't think it would help, but I decided to try it if only for the psychological benefits of having treated my aches somehow. Alex was right. Aspercreme just made me itchy and delivered no psychological benefits.

The main lessons we've learned on this tour are to get your bike checked out with a mechanic before a trip,  even if you've been riding and it seems fine, and don't go riding in cold and rain unless you
have the proper gear to wear in such weather. And also, Aspercreme has no benefits.

The first long distance bike ride in our family was taken by David and Alex just after Alex had finished 7th grade, so it is only appropriate that this last family ride before Alex goes to college would end with David and Alex riding to Cadillac to get the truck while I wait at the state park (which is packed and currently smells like bacon). They took off early this morning for the 44 mile trip, and finally unhindered by a heavy trailer and packs, they expect to make good time.

There is no laundry facility here at the park. We learned last year that the  closest coin laundry is four miles away. It's only four miles, right? You could ride a bike there. But I think I'll wait for the guys to get back with the truck. I'm ready to go back to my pampered lifestyle.

Things That Make You Tuffer

As we were recovering from today's short, but miserable ride, Alex pointed out that we were stronger today than we were yesterday because we had a miserable ride, even though, in his opinion, today's ride wasn't as character building as that one from Mio to Harrisville.

 Alex's philosophy doesn't seem to extend to encounters with spiders. We stayed at a quiet campground in Cheboygan last night after a perfect day of riding from Rogers City. The campground in Cheboygan was much smaller, and it was the first place we've stayed where no one has spoken to us. The residents didn't come out of their big, fancy motor homes except maybe to let their little dogs out, and the weather was beautiful, so???  The first thing we always do after a long day of riding is hit the showers, and here's where Alex was accosted by a menacing gang of spiders. The "big one" seemed to be the leader. It waited for him in various places (dangling above his head in the doorway, just to welcome Alex, it seemed), and sometimes gathered its minions for an even more impressive display of power.

I think Alex was pretty happy to leave that campground, even though we left in cold rain. Our goal was to make it to Petoskey today, which would have been about 48 miles. But the rain never slowed, and the temperatures never rose. 18 miles in, we stopped at a gas station, soaked and chilled to the bone, water pooling in our shoes. David kept checking with us along the route to see if we were ok or miserable. In that situation, what can you say other than okay? It's not like we could just call off the ride. I was reluctant to get back on the bike, but the plan was to ride six more miles and stop for lunch. I changed into a dry shirt and pulled on an extra pair of pants.

Six miles later, we arrived in Indian River, where David suggested we get a hotel room, order pizza, and save Petoskey for tomorrow. He got no arguments from us. I was thinking along the way that I would suggest never riding on days like today again, ever. You really need warm, waterproof gear to do that. And people who want to ride on days like this, well, nobody likes them.

So far we haven't encountered any spiders here, but I have some good ideas about how to help Alex build someone character in the future.

Tomorrow we're off to Petoskey to the hotel we always end up in after bad weather rides to Petoskey. Stay warm and dry, everyone!

Smelly Things

Something smelled funky in the tent last night, but I couldn't figure it out. We all took showers. I did the laundry... I sniffed my shirt. I sniffed David. Huh... This morning I put on my cycling jacket. Problem solved. I didn't wash that, and I'm pretty offensive after a few dozen miles of riding.

Early on our ride today from Alpena to Rogers City, Alex and David had a close encounter with a skunk. They won, and I wondered if the skunk might have smelled my jacket and decided it didn't want the competition. After riding for 94 miles in the same pair of shorts, it's really bad when you walk in to a camp store (at a campground that may or may not be a leper colony) and you notice how badly someone else smells.

Anyway, it was disappointing to make it to the campground today and discover they had no laundry facilities. This is why we carry a clothesline and pins with us - just in case we need to wash things by hand.

The ride today was tougher than it should have been. It felt like the wind was putting its palms on our foreheads to keep  us back. We practically crawled to Rogers City.

In between Alpena and RC, there wasn't much but farmland. But the village of Posen, proud home of the Potato Festival, was hopping. As we passed a huge Catholic Church, a man in the parking lot tried to wave us in. "Come on in to church!"  Had he gotten a whiff of us, he wouldn't have spoken. On the bright side, I now know that stretchy pants are allowed in church. So if you ever find yourself  in Posen, pull on your stretchies and visit the Catholic Church.

Once we got to Rogers City, we rode through town hoping to find lunch. David asked a lady walking with her two kids for directions to food, and before we left them, her daughter asked David if she could have his bike before his funeral. She liked that it held a lot of drinks. Small children can be so insensitive sometimes.

Our hard work was rewarded when we came upon an unexpected paved bike trail that took us along the shores of Lake Huron straight to our campground. We're looking forward to a dry night after last night's rainstorms. Perhaps nature wanted to give that other camp a good cleansing.

On a Scale from One to Leper Colony...

Fueled by peanut butter and jelly and ibuprofen, we left early for Alpena this morning, and we made it there in record time with no flat tires. We arrived at the bicycle shop in plenty of time, got a puncture resistant tire and a heavy duty inner tube for my bike along with some more spare inner tubes. The owner of the shop also worked on my bike's alignment, so now it doesn't get all squirrelly on me at higher speeds. The moral of the story? Take your bikes in to the mechanic for a checkup before you go for a big ride.

It was a perfect  ride between Harrisville and Alpena. There were some huge hills in the first 16 miles out of Harrisville, just in case you're interested in riding this route, but we survived these without having to stop and push the bikes up, and the rest of the ride was pretty flat. As excited as we were about our pace, in the distance I noticed the skies darkening. Since I've started writing this, they've opened up, and we've huddled into the tents. It'll be a rainy night, but at least it isn't cold.

On a scale from one to leper colony, I'd score this campground a solid "People of Walmart." Everyone needs a vacation, I suppose. The campground is populated with strange, irritable children with fallen faux hawks and some long-bearded guys in overalls I think I recognize from Bugs Bunny. Even some of the dogs are a little off.

I overheard some people solving a math problem that seemed appropriate for the venue. "There's only two beers in here." "Well that means twenty-two  of 'em's gone."

The neighboring camper came over to talk about biking while we set up camp. He's here with a big church group this weekend and invited us to join them later for some singing. Alex wanted to respond with, "You'll definitely hear my voice stand out. I like to think of myself as a modern day Frankie Valli." I'm mostly glad he didn't say this to a stranger.

Tomorrow we set out, hopefully not in the rain, to a new destination. I'm feeling confident in my improved ride. By the way, for my visual friends, I am unable to upload my pictures to blogger from my iPhone (I thought I had this worked out), so I'll be adding pictures when we get home. Meanwhile, I'll continue sharing pictures on FB.

Screw it! We'll just walk!

My tire was flat this morning after David filled it up yesterday afternoon, so he changed the inner tube. In the process, he discovered that my tire was in bad shape, and I'd need a new one. The closest bike shop would be in Alpena, where we plan to go tomorrow. Nothing to do but take our chances. 

Today's ride took us through Huron National Forest, miles of winding roads through beautiful country. We had a good 20 miles of quiet riding with very little traffic to interfere with the sounds of gears and crickets and birds. This is my favorite kind of riding.

Unfortunately, sometimes on  quiet rides there is nowhere to stop along the way, so when we ran out of water and became hot and thirsty, there were no businesses on our route where we could refill the water bottles. There was also no place to stop for lunch (don't worry- I made sandwiches). I kept hoping there would be somewhere to stop for water just over the next hill, but nothing ever materialized (thanks a lot, optimism!). Finally, we pulled over, and Alex used the water from the melted ice in the cooler to give us each a little more to drink. 

The first half of the ride, as I said, was fantastic. The Au Sable River would appear intermittently through the trees, sometimes with pasty white canoeists paddeling shirtless, sunning themselves like albino turtles. I haven't investigated yet how many Bigfoot sightings there have been in the Huron National Forest, but it seemed to me a great place for a Squatch to hide, along with his moonshine still. It had everything a moonshining Squatch would need: tree cover, a fresh water source... Why wouldn't he do this? What else does he have to do? And I'm pretty sure he would know how to deal with shirtless canoe people. 

We took more frequent breaks as the miles dragged on. About 1 1/2 miles outside of Harrisville, David got a flat tire.  Alex and I to went on into town to find something cold to drink while he pushed his bike in to change the flat. When a passing stranger outside the  grocery store asked us about our bikes, I explained our situation and asked him where to find a place to stay as we'd had kind of a bad day and didnt feel like setting up camp. That's when Alex noticed my tire was flat. Seeing we were in a tight spot, the stranger offered to take David to Kmart 15 miles away if necessary to purchase more inner tubes. 

After the patch work on the dead inner tubes didn't appear to be going so well, David gave the man a call from the hotel room we found to make life a little easier tonight.    I guess the only bad thing about staying here is that there is nowhere to wash laundry close by. I asked the owner if there wre facilities here, but she said no and proceeded to give directions to a laundromat. "It's only a mile," she said. "You could walk or ride your bike." True, but not what you want to hear after a lot of tough miles. I thanked her anyway but didn't explain. She probably thinks I'm lazy and rude because I may have rolled my eyes when she said it was only a mile. 

Tomorrow we set out early for Alpena to get to a bike shop before it closes at noon. At least that's the plan. 

Meanwhile, after David took his trip to Kmart, we were finally able to go out for a good meal. PBJ and bananas are great, but we needed some better fuel for our empty tanks. 

PS: the inner tubes David picked up are too big for our bikes. Let's hope the patch work he's done on the old one holds for the ride tomorrow. Also, Alex says he knows where we went wrong today and has suggested that when we are riding uphill in the future, we should push down harder on the pedals so we can go faster. What a scientist! 

Smokers Help Prevent Fires

After shivering through a long night in our tents, we briefly considered trying to rent a heated cabin at our next campground, but since the weather was fine otherwise, we decided to wait for an emergency that involved precipitation before caving in to pamper ourselves.

At the campground we departed this morning, a sign which read, "Smokers Help Prevent Fires" was painted at the top of a receptical for discarded cigarettes, proving once again that commas are kind of important. I would think about this message later in the day as we road past miles of skeleton trees charred black and gray from forest fire. Apparently the smokers failed to do their job.

Another sign at that campground read,  "No Animals in Bathroom." I'm not sure if this was intended to ease my mind before entering, or if it could be taken as a reason for the absence of goats.

There wasn't much of note along our 52.5 mile ride today. Some days are like that. You just keep pushing the pedals through landscape reminiscent of one of those old Very Brady Vacation shows. That's not to say it was an easy ride.

After obsessing over the weather reports last night, I was convinced that we wouldn't be dealing with any wind today, but a strong, cold headwind and hills slowed our progress all day.  We also changed our route after discovering one of our roads was a dirt road (our history with dirt roads is bad, but Alex suggested we try it anyway). Once we realized it was a mistake and turned around, Alex pointed out, rather eloquently, that the problem with optimism is that sometimes it screws you over. This was definitely true when it came to my belief that there would be no wind today.

16 mikes into the ride:
Me: Hey, David, how long before we turn and head east? (I was frustrated with the headwinds coming out of the north. Once we turned, I figured the wind would no longer be a problem.)
David: Roscommon is 22 miles in. We'll get sandwiches there.
Me: Yeah, but... Okay.

Communication can be challenging on a ride.

The winds were worse after we turned east, so nevermind.

Also, my tire went flat at some point, but David filled it with air at a place we stopped, and it seemed to hold for the last 7 miles of the ride.

Now Alex is icing an aching knee, and I am trying to rehydrate. It's ironic that the guy who gets the least exercise throughout the year is the one who currently has the most energy. Perhaps we should all follow his example and quit exercising so we can save all of that energy to put into a single bike tour.

Tonight we camp in Mio, a town which I can only assume was named after its founder's favorite cat.

We Were Wearing Stretchy Pants Before It Was Cool

We learned a couple things from last year's bike trip, but most importantly we learned how miserable it can be to ride in the cold. To prevent suffering, David and I both have added long stretchy pants to our riding wardrobe. Alex doesn't need them as his legs come equipped with thick fur. The day started out in the 40's and wasn't much warmer by the time we began our short ride from Cadillac to Houghton Lake. We were thankful for the extra warmth.

There are plenty of nice campgrounds up here in Northern MI. To make themselves more competitive, Camp Cadillac has a unique feature - goats. One can purchase goat feed for them and feed them over the fence. This is likely very popular among the camper and motor home people when their grandchildren come to visit. Sadly, our new campground is goat free. We should probably advise the manager about this clever, and noticeably missing, attraction so that the oversight can be corrected quickly.

Camp Cadillac also had Bob, the retired guy who said he came over to help us get our campfire going better, but I really just think he was bored. In a Stephen King novel, Bob would play the part of the good-natured and well-meaning  but quirky bystander.

I wasn't quick enough to capture many photos from today's short 35.5 mile ride, but I can fill in a couple details to help paint a picture of where we have traveled. I failed to notice a dead bird next to a bottle of whiskey on the side of the road (David told me about it too late for pictures, and out of respect for the poor bird's friends and family, I should probably not post its grizzly demise if I had photographic evidence - just remember the warning that the picture should have delivered.) In another place along the way, I did notice a sign advertising fresh "minure" for sale, so if you were looking... Along Houghton Lake Road, we came upon 8 Mile Road, where we paused briefly for an epic rap battle (never before had this been accomplished by anyone in stretchy pants). Otherwise, it was an uneventful ride, and those are the best kind.

When we arrived at our new campsite, a family in the adjacent site, who was nearly finished packing for its departure, gawked at us and asked lots of silly questions. How do you ride so far? Where's your tent? Where's your food? We have two cars for all that stuff. Mostly, I think they were in awe of our stretchy pants. They probably went right out to buy their own after they left. I am happy for them.