Day 41, 11 days to go, 103 miles, Wooster, OH

Good news first: You might remember that on day 22 Bob took a spill, hit his head and ended up in the hospital. Well, Bob lives in Wooster and entered out dining room to a big round of applause. Everyone was very happy to see him and that he’s doing so well. Rob, who broke his collar bone on Day 35 checked in to let us know that they’d put in a titanium plate and he is doing fine. I guess now he’ll have to get a titanium bicycle.


A few specifics about the day: 103 miles, 15.0 mph, 7,800 calories. Although the weather was generally cool, the road was very hot. Some roads are paved by dropping crushed stone on tar. Where there’s bare tar, it grabs your wheels like one of those ghosts in the movies who reach out and try to drag you down to boogey man hell. After the tar grabs your wheel, it grabs the next bit of crushed stone it sees, so that your tire looks like a hot fudge sundae sprinkled with peanuts. (I have to stop and clean them off the tire.) Going through macadam is simpler, it’s like going through quicksand. My tires have literally sunk into macadam patches in the road. The solution to this is just to avoid macadam.


We’ve encountered several “road closeds,” “bridge outs” and simple “detours” over the last forty one days. Some are on our direction sheets (“Turn left to gate that says, “Road closed” walk around gate, ride 1.4 miles til end. Slide bike under wire fence, turn left and continue.” Or “Follow road until concrete barrier “road closed,” dismount, carry bike over barrier, cross I-70W, cross I-70E, turn left and continue on shoulder of I-70E.” Then there are the unmarked, unanticipated closings like the one shown in the picture. The question in my mind is always, “How closed is it?” “Is it closed to me?” and “How far out of my way will I have to go if it is really, really, closed. Today the road was moderately closed; the left lane had fallen into the river. The right lane looked strong enough to hold me and my bike, so it wasn’t closed to me. I didn’t have to go out of my way.

“Mr. Tomato Head” lives in a small café in Frederictown (where their “small” sub is nine inches long). I guess with the outbreak of tomatoe-associated salmonellosis and the FDA warnings against tomatoe consumption, the cafe had to figure out creative things to do with their tomatoes. How humiliating, Mr. T. would surely be happier on a sub.

After dinner I took a little walk to get some exercise and was drawn to the town square by the sound of gospel barbershop quartet. It was the 11 th Annual Wooster Hymn Sing. The quality of the music was excellent, and not having been in church for 40 days, it gave me some spiritual solace. I didn’t agree with the theology that was preached between hymns, but the hymns and the music rang true.

Tomorrow’s ride will be very similar to today’s but a few miles shorter. Then it will be 10 days to go.

The whine: Today is day 41, there are 11 more days to go. I just have to gut it out and get through them. The ride is hard now. There is no more novelty to it. The scenery is beautiful but repetitive. There’s not much banter among the riders. The riders are all talked out. We know each other’s life story, views on religion and politics and favorite movies and books. So we're just grinding out the miles. It's important, but difficult, to remain physically and mentally focused. I can’t let up until the front wheel of my bike is in the Atlantic. I can do it.