Lost in Translation

We have been broken into teams and sent out to Thamel, Kathmandu's tourist district, on an "Apprentice" style scavenger hunt. Each team has received 500 rupees and a list of items to purchase for the lowest price possible. The team which obtains all of the items, which include things like an unusual fruit, something to teach with, something someone might purchase during a "gap yar", and something sweet, and manages to haggle well enough to spend the least, wins. 

My team consists of people who have not yet had the chance to exchange currency or purchase a Nepali sim card, and is running behind because we have to take care of these tasks first. We have no real chance of winning this challenge, but we decide to do our best and have fun with it. 

We make our way through the busy streets of Thamel, alternately trudging through thick mud, or stumbling over uneven cobbled surfaces. Street vendors approach us trying to interest us in their hand carved stringed instruments from the mountains, miniature chess sets, versatile wire trinkets, and tiger balm. The man selling tiger balm refuses to take no for an answer. He follows me for about ten minutes before finally giving up.

Store fronts display trekking supplies, golden Tibetan singing bowls, colorful clothing and wall hangings. On the streets further away from the center, live goats are tied to a post, eating some vegetation that has been placed in front of them, and chickens are jammed into wooden cages. Not far away, a recently butchered goat hangs in a store front. We turn our heads as a man finishes skinning it.

A toddler, 2 or 3 years old, sweeps the floor of a shop with a bundle of straw switches almost as tall as he is. 

Dogs are curled up under store fronts, napping. Occasionally, one hops up to follow us, sniffing at our legs. They stop to lap water from brown puddles. 

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The narrow streets are noisy, congested with honking vehicles. We frequently move out of the way as motorbikes and small cars fight their way through, competing not only with each other, but with the many pedestrians.  

We stop to spin Buddhist prayer wheels at a small shrine before returning to the hostel with our photographs and purchased items.

Buddhist Prayer Wheels

Then I see something that stops me. In the center of a four way intersection, a man sits in the mud. His black hair is long and unkempt. Swarms of people and honking motorbikes rush past him. He looks up at them, but no one looks down at him. There is mud on his chin. He pulls his knees to his chest, encircling them with his arms. His gray feet, caked with dried mud, are flexed, toes pointing toward the sky. 

I keep looking over my shoulder trying to process what I'm seeing, but we are moving too quickly away for me to understand. 

"We are all one  family," echoes through my head. 

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Namaste

We Are All One

I was headed down the ramp to board the plane when I noticed an older couple had gotten separated from their other family members, so I paused and stepped aside to waive them through.  The gentlemen protested at first, but I said, "So you can be with your family." He smiled and replied, "We are all one family, including you" before going ahead, and my heart smiled.

So many important and brilliant people have advocated travel and the experience of different cultures that I know I'm not really contributing anything new to the conversation, but I do believe it's true. Leaving our comfort zones and experiencing the world from positions of vulnerability and confusion can be frightening for most of us, at least it is for me, but it is one of the best ways to understand the world as well as gain a better understanding of ourselves. The most valuable thing I've gained from the limited travel in my life is becoming acquainted with interesting, deep, curious, kind, and grounded people. I've expanded my world by connecting with its residents, and to me, that's how life becomes richer and fuller.

Coming into Nepal resulted in a greater sense of culture shock than anywhere I've ever been. Reading about places in the world where it isn't even safe to brush your teeth with the water and where electricity and water and other basic comforts and necessities are not guaranteed to anyone doesn't compare with actually being in those places and experiencing what others regularly lack. To be honest, Nepal is a difficult place to get used to being, but I know for certain that after I return home, I will have a greater appreciation for the creature comforts I have always taken for granted.

For those of you who have traveled extensively, this is not going to be news to you, but for those of you who have not, I'll try to detail what kinds of things are different in Nepal than what we are used to. First of all, if you're squeamish, toilets are going to be a challenge. If they are traditional Eastern style toilets, you will need to squat to use them and hope and pray you do not lost a shoe. If they are Western style toilets, things are a little easier and familiar, but you may not flush your toilet paper as it clogs the toilets. Where does it go after you wipe?  In the trash can. It should go without saying that this get unpleasant over time. In many bathrooms, there are spray hoses and no toilet paper at all. You can go ahead and use your imagination on that one, and if you figure out how people get out of there all clean without soaking their clothes, please explain it to me. Go ahead. I'll wait...

During the monsoon season from June through August, it rains almost every day, and it is hot and muggy. The result is that even after you have showered, it is difficult, if not impossible, to get dry and stay dry. Once dressed again, you will most assuredly begin to sweat profusely anyway. By the way, the shower you have taken is most likely very cold.

Water must be boiled before you can consume it or brush your teeth with it, and visitors often use antibacterial gel on their hands, even after they have washed their hands with water, in order to avoid contracting any illnesses.

The streets are congested and dirty, and a traveler will be thankful to be walking once he/she has had the opportunity to ride in a car. The rules of the road are not clear, but if I were going to guess, I would say that it's mostly a survival of the fittest sort of situation. The most aggressive driver who survives has the right of way. As a pedestrian, you should also watch out for all possible vehicles. Once you hear the horn beep, the vehicle is already about to hit you.

Electrical wires line the streets and wrap around poles, appearing as easy to sort out as a can of worms. It comes as no surprise that there are frequent power outages.

All of this is not to paint a negative portrait of a place that is a very young democracy, closed off from the world until the early 1950s and difficult to travel to and from because of the mountains surrounding it. I would also not discourage anyone from going there, but one should always travel with open eyes. It's best to know what to expect so that you can accept it and maintain a positive attitude in advance.

I did not come to Kathmandu for a vacation, though. I came to work with others and talk about education and how to provide the best possible opportunities for children all over the world to learn. After all, we are all one family. More later.

Namaste

All You Wanna Do is Ride Around, Sally

Listen: some people over share, even strangers. I'll do a little of that myself in this post. Even when you aren't traveling by your own power, you can still be exposed to interesting characters. For long after our family bike trip to Rhode Island, the kids amused themselves by imitating an unfortunate couple from a campground somewhere in Ohio or New York. "IRV!! I need my MEDICATION!!!"

We packed up the tent this morning and got ready to travel to Petoskey together. We couldn't find an open space at a campground, so we had to find a hotel, which was fine with me because I believe camp bathrooms serve mostly to build character. We did have a beautiful site next to a lake, and there was an artesian well the locals spoke of with uncommon enthusiasm. I filled the water bottles with the magic elixir, which I assured 

David would rehydrate him better than any other water, returned to the tent, and announced,  "IRV! I need my MEDICATION!!" 

David had ridden into camp about 45 minutes after I had  yesterday, looking haunted by the mountains he'd conquered along the way. I tried to make him feel better with a personal sized cherry pie I'd purchased along with some fresh cherries at a roadside stand. 

I was excited about visiting Petoskey today because we were planning a bike ride along the path on the Lake Michigan shoreline. 

I know. I shouldn't be riding, but it was Petoskey, and I figured trails wouldn't be so bad. A little over 17 miles later, I felt exactly how wrong I'd been. I'm 95% sure my elbow is sprained and 100% sure I will be off the bike for quite some time now. I suggested that David get a black armband to match my elbow brace so people would think we were protesting something. 

Ordinarily, we can find a movie to see in Petoskey, but today there was nothing, so we found a winery/brewery instead for some tasting. A group of young ladies from the Ojibwe tribe were there taking their 80 year old grandmother out, as they did once a week. The lady next to us explained that she had been raised by her mother off the reservation, but as an adult, she chose to move onto the reservation against her mother's protests. I appreciated her respect for her elders and her desire to make her world a bigger place through learning. 

Our visit to Harbor Springs was such a drastic contrast to the values she talked about. We walked around the marina, as we usually do, and checked out the yachts. Beautiful as everything is in Harbor Springs, I don't think any of those yachts or million dollar homes could make me as happy as I am taking in nature on a perfect summer day. 

Tomorrow we're off to Cheboygan and camping again. Between the two of us, we owe this hotel $700. 

Being Flexible... Or Not

A few people have told me that after reading this blog, they were inspired to go ride their bikes. This makes me wonder whether they really read any of the blog or not or if maybe some of my friends are just not critical readers. Maybe it's me. Perhaps I've done something to glorify getting lost in sketchy places where the residents have domesticated dangerous, prehistoric animals. Or getting stranded with a flat tire in freezing, torrential rains.. Or fighting headwinds up mountains while being chased by ferocious, hungry dogs. I could go back and read my posts, but I'd rather not see all the errors I've made while writing through the brain fog that develops after a 60 mike ride. Whatever the reason, if you're going to ride, be prepared for occasional or possibly frequent disappointment. Today, I am disappointed. 

After setting up and waterproofing camp in Cadillac last night (a big storm was expected, and it didn't disappoint), I spent a sleepless night in part due to the storm and cold, but mostly because of pain. 

The truth is, I don't know what it's like to ride a bike without pain. Shoulder and hand and neck problems have made most long-ish rides very uncomfortable, testing my endurance at times. We have made adjustments to my bicycle so that riding long distance might not be so difficult, but there is always pain. The falls I took last week while practicing riding with clipless pedals exacerbated the problems, so there I was, awake all night. 

After talking it over with David this morning, we agreed to change our plans and make this an assisted ride. I'll drive the truck ahead and set up camp, riding shorter distances on my bike where  I can, and David will ride alone between campsites, unhindered by a heavy trailer behind his bike. 

Yeah, I'm disappointed,but when it was cold and rainy and windy this morning, I was thankful it wasn't going to be a ridiculously rough day on the road. 

We drove to Traverse City instead of riding and set up camp with a cushy new air mattress in the tent. Then David bought me a cookie at my favorite TC bakery and made me feel better. On the bright side, I will still get to enjoy some bike riding without the pressure of how many miles there are to go. And hopefully I'll heal up enough soon to take on those harder paths again. 

Peace and Mosquitoes

At the end of the school year, it is difficult to quiet the mind and learn to focus on fewer things at a time. To ease the transition, we left the bicycles at home and ventured into Michigan's Upper Peninsula for a few days of quiet; camping, reading, and sightseeing with limited electronics. (They are kind of handy when directions are needed.)

The cabins were clean and warm

Our campground's website advertised 440 acres of walking trails, bike rentals, and a heated in-ground swimming pool, among other amenities. It turns out no one had any knowledge of walking trails on the site, there were no bike rentals, the swimming pool had not yet been filled, and they failed to mention what they had most abundantly: mosquitoes. We did have a clean, warm cabin, though.  After regular showers in bug repellant, we were mostly able to fend off the blood sucking pests and settle down next to a fire each evening to read our books. It was refreshing to concentrate on one book, one set of ideas, for hours at a time. We discussed going to sit by the empty pool to read in the sun at one point, in hopes of escaping mosquitoes. I wondered if the gate to the pool might be locked, but then I remembered that as a former participant in the Warrior Dash, I had the necessary skills to jump the fence. Before we could carry out our plan, they started filling the pool.

There was still plenty of beauty to enjoy. Delicate ash moths fluttered from the campfire, alighted on our coats and knees and books, and disintegrated upon contact. Small drops of sap rained down on us from the maple trees, which sheltered us from the occasional showers of actual rain. When we were quiet for long enough, focused on our books, a bold ground squirrel repeatedly invaded camp and retreated, probably hoping we might drop something to eat.  The thunderous music of water rushing into a swimming pool blended with the incessant hum of mosquitoes played for us night and day...  Okay, maybe that wasn't great.

A visitor on David's breakfast plate.

A trip to Grand Island did nothing to save us from the mosquitoes. We caught the ferry (a.k.a. pontoon boat) across the bay to the island and had just enough time (three hours) to hike and explore before making it back to the ferry dock for the return trip at 3:00. Had we not made it back in time, it would have been us, armed only with some trail mix, some chips, and a couple granola bars, battling the elements of a dark, at times swampy, forest, possible bear encounters, and billions of mosquitoes over night. Before heading to the island, there was plenty of literature available to read to prepare for bear encounters. Its casual tone had me excited about the possibility of seeing a bear. "If one is observant, one may see a bear..." Even the parts about avoiding a "negative bear encounter" were encouraging, making me wonder if it was a good idea to boost visitors' confidence about their odds of survival in the described situations. I have no idea how many bears we may have missed, but millions of mosquitoes tormented us throughout the 6.7 mile trek around part of the island. There were no warnings or survival advice about these. Fun fact: black bears can run up to 30 mph, but I believe mosquitoes are faster. 

When waves crash into the center of this, it sounds like thunder, so they say.

Our other major excursion was a boat tour of the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. We had the option of taking a sea kayaking tour for this, but it was too chilly for us non-Yoopers to attempt. Even though on the day of our tour it got up to 70 degrees on shore, and people were wearing t-shirts and sweating a little (don't judge - you don't know how cold their winters are!), it was a good 20 degrees cooler on Lake Superior. Once we passed the protective barrier of Grand Island, and the wind picked up, even our sweatshirts didn't seem to be enough to keep us warm. I learned that no one lives on Grand Island year-round, the area receives 250 -280 inches of snow every year, and the bay between Munising and Grand Island freezes over with 4 to 7 feet of ice in the winter. It is a harsh place inhabited by people who are much tougher than I am. Even so, small, determined trees grow from the cliffs of Pictured rocks, hanging on for life even in the face of violent, relentless Lake Superior winter winds, reminding me that even in harsh places, fragile things can exist and thrive. 

Waterfall down Pictured Rocks

A tree clings to life like this for 60 years

Instead of visiting Marquette today to rent bicycles and ride some trails, we came home a day early. Riding in 50 degree weather in the rain is not our idea of fun.

As we drove back home though the U.P. today, we came upon a group of 8 - 10 bicycle riders, shoulders hunched over their handlebars in a cold, driving rain. I couldn't help but feel for them, knowing what they were going through. All that wishing for relief from bone-chilling saturation. Ultimately, I knew they would be okay.  While it's true this can be a harsh place at times, we aren't as fragile as we sometimes imagine ourselves to be.  Still, as I write this, I hope they are some place warm and dry tonight, feeling tough for having ridden through the storm. That could have been us today. That could be us in a couple of weeks. 

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. 

Cardinal Rules

There are things you just shouldn't do. You don't say Macbeth in the theater. You don' tug on Superman's cape. You don't spit into the wind. And you absolutely do NOT brag about having perfectly functioning tires on a bike ride. Alex did this yesterday, and no matter how we warned him, he kept doing it.

"Hey, we haven't even had one flat tire on this trip."

"Shhh! Don't talk about it, Alex."

Then later, "I can't believe we haven't had any flat tires on this whole trip!"

"Seriously, you're going to jinx us."

4.5 miles into the ride today, guess who had a flat tire. Fortunately it was a quick fix, and we had no further mechanical problems. The Universe pays attention to these things. As soon as you start to feel too good about something, as soon as you get a little too proud, the Universe levels things right back off. This is abundantly obvious on a bike. If you've had the luxury of coasting down hills all day, you'll be sure to pay for it with some climbs. If you've been climbing tough hills, you'll most likely be rewarded with some downhill. Unless you're in northern lower MI.

We told Alex  the flat was his fault, but he isn't accepting responsibility. He figures if he had upgraded Kevlar lined tires like ours, there would have been no problem. Of course he also blames David for the winds today. "Hey, it looks like the winds have finally calmed down." Ahem. The Universe was listening.

David often says about cycling that you just have to take what the day gives you. Today was a good day to keep that in mind. We had a little bit of almost everything to deal with while riding, including a busy, bumpy road with no shoulder, strong winds, hills, and of course, one flat tire. On the bright side, we did manage to outride a storm we saw coming. Those dark clouds were headed north while we were headed south.  Another bright spot was the miraculous recovery of David's knee. He had no trouble today.

I find that riding against the wind and climbing steep hills makes it difficult to relax. My upper body tenses up and exacerbates my neck problems. So I rode in a lot of pain today. If you are thinking of taking up distance riding, and you are young, I would recommend you start before you develop such problems as bone spurs and arthritis. I may need to take more permanent action at some point with my neck issues so that I can ride more comfortably.

I think they were expecting us to sing or play some jazz...

 As it was, I had developed a pretty bad attitude during the first 17 miles or so. Then we stopped to take David's picture in front of the "welcome to Denmark" sign, and some cows wandered out to the roadside to say hello. That improved my mood. (Mooood) Usually the pain comes later in the ride. I went from feeling regret just yesterday that the trip was almost over to counting the miles to the finish line today. Just as a watched pot never boils, counted miles never seem to increase. But eventually we did find our way into Manitowoc and a hotel. There is a hot tub here calling my sore muscles, and I'm thinking I've earned it today.

After 534 miles, not counting whatever riding we did in TC to get our laundry done, we are finished with this particular trip, our longest to date carrying the most equipment on our bikes at once. I'm pretty proud to have made it all the way here. I have been saying this is our first long unsupported trip, but I have to admit there's been support waiting in the wings the entire time. My parents have been prepared to come and fetch us if ever things got too messy, and that knowledge has been a great comfort. I'm glad it wasn't necessary, and now we can enjoy visiting them on our way back to reality. Or from reality. I haven't quite decided which is more true. It's been a great break from the ordinary, that's for sure.

Pretty sweet ride, huh?

Go drink some water and jump on a bike! As for us, we'll be on the SS Badger tomorrow afternoon crossing Lake Michigan to get back to our car.

Civilized Places Don't Let Their Turkeys Go Just Anywhere

Even the sign is shaped like cheese!

After a painful ride for David yesterday, we decided that we would reroute our trip once more to make the path to Manitowoc more direct. Today we find ourselves in Green Bay with one day of riding remaining instead of two.  Although we believe he's dealing with some tendonitis in his knee, David rode today's 57.6 miles like a boss. He's icing it up while we wash the laundry. Now that it's warmed up into the 80's, our laundry seems to be even more stinky than before.

The roads along our Wisconsin route are nice and flat so far, but we were still fighting a strong wind for much of the ride. While we still haven't seen any bears, we did witness a turkey wandering around town in Marinette, and outside of town a couple of ostriches saw us coming and started sprinting toward the road. I wondered what they would do if they didn't have a fence to keep them in. If I could've tossed a tow rope around one...

Unlike riding through the UP, we had less trouble locating "civilization" today, although the increased amount of McDonald's debris along the roadsides isn't really all that civilized. Almost halfway through the ride, we found ourselves in a little town right about the time we were ready for lunch, so we located a generic family restaurant, and decided to give it a try. I've gotten used to the strange looks people give sometimes when we walk in wearing stretchy shorts, but the problem with every small town diner we've entered is that there is nothing healthy to eat there. I've definitely consumed some unhealthy fuel while traveling, and it's reminded me why I choose not to eat so many of those food items any more. If you are a vegetarian or a vegan, there aren't many options out there, particularly in small towns.


Tonight we're trying out a vegan/vegetarian restaurant, so we'll hit the road tomorrow hopefully feeling less sluggish. I have just been informed that Manitowoc is only 37 miles away. So tomorrow should be easy, right?

Menominee: Oh, man, my knee?

Today is the first day we haven't needed our jackets to ride. The heat that's been plaguing the lower part of the state is finally creeping up to us, and it's a good thing because we're camping tonight, and I don't want to be cold anymore.  It was a 56.5 mile ride from Escanaba to a campground in Menominee, and while the terrain was nice and flat, we had a headwind today which only got worse as we progressed through the miles.

It was thirty miles into the ride before we came across a gas station/restaurant. Having looked ahead, we knew this would be the case. See ? Remember what I told you about riding in the UP? We were prepared just in case with PBJ and granola bars. There's nothing you can do, however, about a headwind, even when you know it's coming.

David is having trouble with his knee today, so that made the ride tougher for him. Hopefully he'll feel better with some ice and ibuprofen tonight so he won't be in pain riding tomorrow. We'll see. On the bright side, after watching that crazy guy walk across the Grand Canyon last night, this seems pretty easy. It's all about perspective.

I took no pictures today, so you'll just have to imagine a road with trees on either side, occasionally some houses, and occasionally a nice view of Lake Michigan. With sunshine and some clouds. There. Now you know what it looked like.

Tomorrow we're headed to Shawamo, Wisconsin. At least I think this is true. Alex is all excited about the prospect of cheese and has suggested that vegans may be against the law there because there will be cheese on everything, but I know he just wants to eat cheese. I think we've ridden about 430 miles now. Three more days of riding are left. Stay hydrated, people.

Porcupine: It's Not Just Road Kill

If you ever consider cycling through the UP, here's a friendly tip: pack some snacks because you never know when you'll come across a place to eat, and then there's no guarantee it'll be open. From what I've seen in the past few days, things open late and close early up here. Just because there's a sign advertising dog sled rides, it doesn't mean it's open right now. Well, that one's common sense.

Today we'd traveled over half way between Manistique and Escanaba before we finally found a place  to refuel. I should also mention here that the UP isn't particularly vegan friendly. It's hard enough finding something to eat without meat involved. We rode for an hour after I had decided I was hungry looking for any place to get a bite to eat. I wondered at what point we should just pull over and make up some PBJ's. We finally saw a sign saying there was a restaurant 5 miles ahead. It was a long five miles.

We encountered little wildlife today: three deer, one porcupine, and some old guy on a bike carrying his little dog in a basket up front and balancing a rake across the handlebars. I wanted to get a picture of the porcupine as I had never seen one alive in the wild. We've ridden past plenty of evidence of failed porcupine road crossing, so I knew they were around here somewhere. When I heard David yell,"porcupine!" I should've kept quiet, stopped my bike, and tried to get a picture. Instead, I also blurted out, "porcupine!"  further spooking the critter, who waddled too quickly into the tall grass for me to photograph. I also would have liked to get a picture of the old guy with the dog, but he had a rake, and I was unarmed.

The third deer we saw did what deer often do when we see them in the road: stand there and stare as if waiting for instructions. It finally ran off after David hollered.

Overall, it was a smooth, easy ride today. We're all feeling strong, and we probably could've ridden quite a bit further. There may not have been sunshine today, but at least there was no rain. You can't have everything, and that's okay. We met a couple of guys in Traverse City who had been riding for over three weeks- they started in Bar Harbor, Maine- and were headed west. This morning, when we left the hotel and I wasn't feeling much enthusiasm for a bike ride, I wonderd what kind of mental state you'd have to develop in order to ride for so long. We have a deadline, or at least we know how many days we have, but they didn't. It must take great discipline and patience to attempt such a long trip. I have some mental toughness to develop if we're ever going to be able to do that.

We saw a dumb movie this afternoon, had a great dinner, and soaked our tired muscles in the hotel's hot tub. Tomorrow may be a rainy one, so we're watching the weather tonight trying to determine whether tomorrow will be a travel or a rest day. We've ridden around 375 miles now, and we have only four more riding days scheduled. On Monday I wasn't sure I would make it this far. I'm pleased that I have.

Rain and Bears

Alex becomes acquainted with the local wildlife

We were happy to leave Naubinway early this morning to head toward something more like civilization. Also, the rain was coming, and we hoped to outrun it. We did get caught in a chilly rain for about 15 minutes, but that was long enough to get soaked. To warm up and get a snack, we stopped in at a little camp store, where an older couple showed us pictures of their backyard pet bears and talked about last night's Tigers game.

We rode into Manistique by 11:00, just in time to avoid more rain. The winds were also picking up, and we were ready to be warm again. The afternoon was all about napping, reading, and washing clothes. Pretty boring. We did walk to town and the lighthouse before dinner, and then it rained on us some more. Not to be a whiner, but I'm sick of crappy weather.

Alex claims the lighthouse as his own

The UP reminds me of one big ghost town. We've ridden past countless run down abandoned hotels, restaurants, cabins, businesses. It's sad, really.

Tomorrow we ride to Escanaba. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for better weather. Alex is still hoping to pet a bear. I am content to see images taken by the locals.

Pasties! De're Yooper Good

Art

After a very cold night with little sleep in the tent, our original destination today was Newberry. When David originally mapped out our route, he had trouble finding places for us to stay without our having to ride unreasonably long distances, so he solved the problem by routing us through Newberry. As we set off from St. Ignace this morning, we started seeing little motels and cabins along the way that he didn't find on the Internet, so David figured that if we could find a hotel in Naubinway, we could shorten our ride tomorrow and avoid some hilly roads.

When we arrived in Naubinway, the motels weren't immediately apparent. The one actual former motel in town was closed, and we found out that there were rooms to stay in above a diner. So tonight we'll be in a warm place at least. It's kind of like staying at your grandparents' house if they decorated each room one area at a time during different decades.  For example, the floors would have been done maybe in the '60's, the curtains are from the '70's, the wallpaper is from the '80's, the dining chairs are from the '50's, etc.

I'm not sure who Larry is, but our bikes are locked in his garage out back. The really great part about Naubinway is that they have a snowmobile museum. We haven't taken advantage of this attraction, but I'm sure we'll regret that fact. For days.

We're also really missing out on Newberry. I've been there once, so I feel sufficiently qualified to provide a little background on the place. Originally, Newberry was founded by a group of literature enthusiasts. Their reputation as book critics spread far and wide, and to this day, newly published books are sent to the citizens of Newberry for their expert reviews, and annually, books are selected to receive  the distinguished Newberry Honor Award. The town's traditional greeting when one is first introduced is to loudly announce what book you are currently reading and then demand to know what  your new acquaintance is reading. Failing to do this is immensely insulting to the residents.

The Upper Peninsula is an interesting place to ride. While not as quiet as riding in the countryside, as the traffic is heavier, and everyone seems to be in a hurry, possibly to get out of the UP, it still feels isolated. What qualifies as civilization is different here. For example, after miles of seeing nothing, we came across a diner with a large sign advertising pasties, and we felt we had reached civilization. There are no signs announcing how far it is to anything- perhaps they don't want anyone to feel discouraged.

 Places selling pasties are more abundant than roadside bbq's are in Texas. For those of you who are not familiar, pasties is pronounced with a short "a" rather than a long "a". These delicious pies, once prominently featured in the critically acclaimed documentary about life in the UP, "Escanaba in Da Moonlight", are the original inspiration for the Hot Pocket. We sampled this unique cuisine for lunch today and found veggies pasties enjoyable. Also of note, everyone listens to old country music. Possibly there's a law I'm not familiar with.

We still haven't figured out why there are signs advertising wild rice everywhere.

Tomorrow we ride to Manistique, a real town with actual hotels. Hopefully Larry will return our bikes in the morning. Before we leave the UP, I'll be sure to explain why you really aren't hearing banjos.

Forget about the raccoons and bears. Beware of the birds!

We left Petoskey early, even though it was in the 40's out. Sometimes you just have to bundle up because you've got someplace to be. It was a beautiful day for riding, and the fact that much of the route was downhill made it a fast day as well. Once we were out of Petoskey, we were also out of traffic, and the quietness of riding through the tunnel of trees and farm country was a welcome change.

I was looking forward to a nice Polish lunch at the Legg's Inn in Cross Village, which is located just as you emerge from the tunnel of trees, but when we arrived, we found that they didn't open until noon, so we bought some juice at a gas station, found a picnic table, and settled for some PBJ. The tunnel of trees kept us in heavy shade most of the time, so it felt good to be in the sun again.

A beautiful ride through the tunnel of trees

David and Alex, just before they jumped into the water and towed the bikes to the U.P.

Once we arrived in Mackinaw City, we found the Mackinaw Bridge Authority booth and obtained a ride for ourselves and our bikes across the bridge (bicycles are not allowed on the bridge, and I'm not in to being terrified anyway) for $5 each. Once we were across, it was only 2 or 3 more miles to the campground. So far we've been pretty lucky, and the campgrounds have all had clean, hot showers, although Alex said one of the shower stalls at the first campground had a spider in it which wouldn't let him take a shower.

We were assured here that they have had no problems with raccoons or bears, but after we visited the rocky beach for a bit, we returned to find our camp had been invaded by Blackbirds. They tore into a mostly  empty box of pasta, ripped open our box of matches, which was also in a ziploc bag, and dumped some of those out, and generally poked holes into and tore up whatever we had left out. I guess we won't be hanging the trailer up in the trees tonight.

Tomorrow we ride to Newberry, where we will get another hotel room, which is good because thunderstorms are predicted for tomorrow night.

Sometimes it IS about the Destination

Planning a trip like this is a lot easier than experiencing a trip like this. After packing up our equipment, we left behind that obnoxious squirrel who kept sneaking into camp and set off in the sunshine to Petosky. Today was work. We rode 65 miles in a little over six hours, slowed significantly by a cold headwind. I never took off my jacket today, but put on more layers instead. It was mostly a day to keep your head down and pedal.
On the bright side, the hills were much gentler, even if the traffic and the shoulders and the wind weren't.

You can never tell when you set out what the day will be like.  It was a relief to make it to Charlevoix because it felt like we were making progress. I tried not to think in terms of time and miles, but of landmarks instead, like the farm supply place we rode out a storm in last time we were on a bike trip.     It's always encouraging to see something familiar. Once we were within 20 miles, I reminded myself that this is a normal amount of riding to do when we're training at home, so it seemed reasonable.

For the last few miles of the ride, we were fueled by the promise of getting off the bikes, taking hot showers, and eating a hot meal. Within a few miles of Petosky, it started to rain, and I started thinking about going home. Being cold, sore, damp, and hungry gives me a bad attitude. The thought of camping didn't sound appealing at all.  When we finally arrived at the campground where we intended to stay, no one was working, and we could find no place to purchase fire wood , which would be necessary for tonight. It wasn't a difficult decision to go find a hotel room  instead, but this required climbing some steep hills . We pushed our bikes.

Tomorrow is a much needed rest day. We'll have no squirrels sneaking in to search for food. Tonight everything hurts, and it's all I can  do to keep my eyes open.  If only the squirrels knew when we were really most vulnerable...