19 May 2007: Paying It Forward

Gurnee to Highland Park, plus Chicago downtown: 35.6 mi; 60s/low 70s
I was ready for a casual ride. After connecting with my friend Tim at the Metra station, we planned a leisurely jaunt east and south into downtown Chicago, riding much of the way on bike paths. Along the way we'd stop at bike shops, hoping to get a feel for whether I could write and market bike books here.
We nearly missed a turn on the McClory Trail in Highland Park. As I quickly turned to gain the trail, I noticed a signboard listing the town's bike paths. Might as well check it out, I figured as I grabbed my brakes. Tim didn't notice me stopping, so he collided with me, sailing over his handlebars, landing on the ground, and declaring, "I broke my finger!"
The finger was bent at a 30-degree angle. Not taking any chances, I called 911 on my cell phone, and the ambulance, fire truck, and police car arrived in under two minutes. They carted Tim off to the town's hospital three miles away, leaving me wondering what to do wtih two bikes.
As I stood there looking desperate, wondering if I should lock his bike (and risk having his unattended gear stolen), an SUV pulled up and the passenger asked if I needed help. They threw Tim's bike in the back, and asked if I needed a ride also. Rather than disassembling my fully loaded bike to get it the car, I said I'd just bicycle over myself. As I biked away, I idly wondered if I'd just donated Tim's bike to strangers.
By the time I reached the hospital, they'd already dropped off the bike and left without leaving a name (I wanted to send them a book!). It's like I always emphasize in my talks - if you need help, people will come through.
Luckily, the fall had only dislocated Tim's ring finger. By the time I saw him, the staff had x-rayed him and put the finger back in place. In a few more minutes they'd splinted the digit to his middle finger and discharged him. Since it was 1:00, we rolled a couple blocks into downtown Highland Park and had a leisurely lunch. We then caught the next train (at 2:30) into downtown Chicago. In the city we spent an hour cycling about, stopping at one bike shop and checking out the urban sculptures. Finally, we caught the train back to his home town of Palatine.
Before cycling home, we stopped at a Thai restaurant and ate outside. Kenny, a retired aircraft mechanic, saw our bikes and stopped to chat. Entralled with our tales (and offering up a few of his own), he kept us company throughout dinner. I then pulled out the last copy of my book that I carried and presented it to him, much to his delight. I have to keep the good karma flowing...

18 May 2007: Go with the Flow

Mukwonago to Silver Lake: 32.4 mi; high 60s?
Adaptability - thats' the key. On tours like this, you must take what comes up and fly with it. Especially when you attempt to overextend yourself, with eight hours at school before hitting the road for up to three hours of riding.
First, Jasonn took me to his high school, where I talked to three consecutive groups - my only high school this tour. While peer pressure must have kept many of the kids silent, enough interacted to keep things rolling - and a few seem quite impressed. Afterwards, one teacher snuck up and gave me a Mukonago High Girls Track Team tee shirt.
Between talks, as I snacked on the muffin and banana they provided for refreshments, I chatted with another one of the Quintet, Sue Van Vleet. When I told her I lived near Boulder CO, she remarked that she had good friends in Boulder. The wife was a professor at the University, and the husband was an ENT named Pete Lilledahl. It took a few minutes for the name to register. "Lilledahl? My wife sees Dr. Lilledahl when she gets a sinus infection!"
After my three talks, Jasonn carted me over to Rolling Hills Elementary, where the school had huge posters welcoming this 'famous' author. Earlier, the teachers had taken the fifth graders out to pick up litter, and they presented me with a picture of the classes with the trash, all made into a refrigerator magnet.
Shannon met me out front, and took me to where the kids were excitedly waiting my arrival. She said she had never seen those 72 kids so raptly attentive, not making a peep until I began asking them questions. Following that presentation, I lunched with Shannon and other teachers in the faculty lounge.
I now had a chance to enjoy some of the phenomenal weather, as I rode three miles to Eagleville Charter School down a gorgeous winding country lane. At the old school, Jodi Gebhard (another of the Quintet) ushered all grades into the gym to hear my presentation. Again, they inundated me with questions (including one of two for the day asking how I brush my teeth). I finally had to cut it short, knowing that one more school awaited me.
They'd arranged for a student's parent to take me back to Clarendon Elementary to save time, so we squeezed (a little too hard, I found out later) my bike into her Suburban. At my final stop, third graders Emily and Ian waited at the office to escort me to their waiting classmates, where Anita Nicoson (the last of the Quintet)
had more refreshments available. I repeated my spiel for the last time this tour, and they stayed attentive despite the fact that I'd probably kept them past normal quitting time.
Before I could start my ride, I discovered my squeeze job had broken off a nut holding my bike rack on. Luckily, the janitor had a replacement nut and bolt to save my day. As I finished the fix, another teacher (who apparently hadn't heard about my talk) came in, shaking her head. "I don't know what's gotten into little Charlie," she said. "He's over in the schoolyard, running around picking up litter."
With my rack repaired and my gear reattached, I headed down the road a half-hour later than expected. As I rolled south, I kept hearing a new squeak that I couldn't isolate. After 23 miles I finally stopped to find that I hadn't attached my pannier properly, and was lucky it hadn't fallen off. I fixed that, then found a new way to stack my camping gear on the rack that didn't require as much muscle power to hook the bungees over.
I made good time to mile 32, when I stopped for a power-bar break. Hopping off the bike, I noticed I no longer had a sleeping bag, jacket, or poncho. No wonder it had been easier to hook the bungees - they hadn't had enough tension to hold the load! Not knowing if the gear had fallen out a mile back or nine miles ago, and since I was already behind schedule, I called Tom to pick me up and help me go find my 'litter'.
Though the day ended on a less-than stellar note, I still classified it as a success. It sure feels like I've cut my teeth as a professional speaker!

17 May 2007: the Life of an Itinerant Litter-vangelist

Waucousta to Brookfield: 55.7 mi; 68 @ 3:30
The incredible days continue. This morning I spoke at Waucousta Lutheran School, to an assembly of students and visitors. David Wege had set up forty chairs, then needed seven more to handle the overflow crowd. He started the show by playing To Tell The Truth while I hid in the kitchen. After I revealed myself, my tales enthralled the school kids and adults alike, resulting in several more book sales.
After photo ops in the parking lot and questions from the local reporter, I headed back into the Kettle Moraine park. With all afternoon to cover a shorter distance, I spent more time hiking the Ice Age Trail. After satisfiying my forest fix, I headed south at 12:30.
Another beautiful ride, another picture-perfect day. As I neared Milwaukee, farm fields turned into subdivisions and country lanes into commercial highways. I had plotted out a fairly direct route, but when my north/south road had a gap at the interstate, I veered east and stopped for new directions. It didn't cost me any miles, and despite the urban scenery, I enjoyed the ride immensely.
My hosts for the night, Jasonn and Loren Webber, had arranged a cookout with Shannon Korth, another of the Mukwonago Quintet, the five teachers at four schools that asked me in to speak. (Nothing like ending with a bang!) He'd also invited neighbors and in-laws to guarantee a merry time.
Jasonn's diversity impressed me greatly. The cookout's venison he'd shot, butchered, and cooked himself; he and Loren spoke German at home to their daughters so they'd grow up bilingual; his backyard featured a playhouse on stilts he'd built himself; he proved an authority on local birds. Later, as we wound down, he engaged me in a lively discussion on the current state of health care and environmental activism.
Now I'm left pondering the enduring mystery, the arcane art of planning these adventures: how do I strike a balance between schedule and spontaneity? Just like last Friday, when the Kings invited me to stay an extra night in St. Ignace, I got a wonderful invitation to linger in Wisconsin. Jasonn and Shannon mentioned that tomorrow was school district day at the ball game: 150 teachers and staff of the Mukwonago district, along with their families, were having a tailgate party in Milwaukee, followed by attending the Brewers-Twins game. They knew they could snag an extra ticket...
Last Friday, I could have stayed in St. Ignace - but then I would have had to finagle a ride north to cover the missed day's mileage and keep me on schedule. I didn't want to impose in that fashion.
This time I would have loved to accept - it's the type of opportunity from which memories arise. If I'd been facing a night in a motel otherwise, I'd have jumped on the chance. However, I had close relatives awaiting me, and they'd already altered their plans to host me. I wouldn't have felt right canceling on them.
Therein lies the eternal dilemma. On the walk we had NO schedule, NO deadlines. The freedom to be spontaneous exhilarated and enthused us. Unfortunately, I can't talk at schools and libraries without scheduling them beforehand. All I can do is put a priority on flexibility as much as possible: if an opportunity arises, bypass a day of biking. I haven't had a tour yet where I biked every mile between start and finish. (This year's continuous stretch lasted longest - 790 miles - but it ended when my host drove me to his home in Appleton Tues night. If not then, I knew tomorrow I'd have another gap, when Jasonn drives me to Mukwonago High.) Of course, my goal has never been to bicylce every mile coast-to-coast, it's been to discover the country by bicycle while inspiring others. There is a significant difference.

16 May 2007: the Vacation gets an Extreme Makeover

Appleton to Waucousta: 71.2 mi; high 40s to ~60
It was another day free of speaking engagements, letting me engage in more recreation. I started with a short hike in High Cliff State Park, looking out over Lake Winnebago and spying a deer in the woods. I then headed south along the lake, then east and south to the Kettle Moraine area - home of the Ice Age National Scenic Trail. The weather was superlative - blue skies, pleasant temps - and the scenery charming. I love this Wisconsin dairyland, lakeview, and glacial landscape!
I made it to Waucousta shortly after 4:00 to see my name on the highway billboard for the school. David Wege gave me the warm Wisconsin welcome I'm getting accustomed to, asking about my trip and inviting me to relax. After I typed in two blog entries, David took me to his place for a shower, then he gave me a driving tour of the area. A fantastic dinner followed at the Fin 'n Feather, then David took me to the highlight of the day: the Extreme Makeover house in Dundee.
Last year, 41-year-old Matt Koepke was diagnosed with a virulent form of brain cancer. Four months later he died, leaving his widow Kris to finish raising their four teenagers. She also had an aging, small house in Dundee WI to maintain.
Though she was hosting a fundraiser for the high school choir in the house that evening (just imagine the hubbub from twenty kids playing bunko), she gave me and the choir director the full guided tour. Not surprisingly, the place was awesome - and filled with over-the-top furnishings. After moving in, Kris saw a price tag of $2400 on one light fixture; one end table cost $4000; the dining room set had an estimated cost of $20,000.
In addition to the fanciest new accoutrements, they incorporated pieces from the old house to retain its flavor. In one daughter's bedroom, the old (well-weathered) front and rear doors found new life as the headboard and footboard for her bed.
Some of the touches went overboard. All five bedrooms had TVs with cable modems - but Kris was responsible for the monthly rental on four of them. (They got removed.) The crew also wired the DVD hookups into the linen closet, so you could just point the remote at the wall to play and stop a movie. Of course, it would get old going to the linen closet to insert a new disk into the player.
Considering how quickly the crew assemble the houses, glitches naturally occur. For instance, take putting in the plumbing before hanging any doors. In one bathroom, the toilet was so large that the door, when hung, would not close. That required a quick trip down to the road to Kohler (who donated all the fixtures) for a smaller model.
The relayed stories of life on the set entertained me. When Kris moved in, she found the fridge was full of bottled water with all the labels removed - the crew couldn't be seen drinking (and endorsing) a particular brand. Also, whenever the cameramen filmed, they didn't want to see the crew eating, so the crew would throw any food they had into any available cupboard, drawer, or closet. Kris kept finding leftovers hidden away in surprising places for months.
Though Kris received the house free of charge, she still held a small mortgage on the original house and property. The hidden cost, though, lay in taxes. The tax asessor had come by just a few weeks earlier, reappraising the house for its new, highly inflated value. She, of course, was now liable for the increase. She was working out something with her father that would allow her to afford that.
After our late tour, David took me to my hosts for the night. Tim and Kiersten Immel lived nearby in a house Tim (a carpenter) had built the previous year. Since it was late, we chatted for only a few minutes before we turned in for the night.

15 May 2007: Adventures in Navigation

Marinette to Kaukauna: 84.3 zippin' miles; lows 60s, late rain
Ahh, the simple days of route finding are now behind me. Yesterday my route notes read:
* follow M35 51 miles to Menominee, left on US41 over the bridge to the library
The superb route that Maureen charted for me ran like this:
* US41 south to T Rd, left and immediate right on Old Peshtigo Rd
* Cross US41 to Frontage Rd south, then cross bridge on 41
* Left on first street (Front St), follow to end
* Two quick rights, and immediately left on Y Rd into Oconto
* Left on S Rd to Little Suamico
* Continue on J Rd to end
I then stopped at a Subway for lunch and directions. The clerk directed me to three men sitting nearby who "know everything about the roads here." They gave me directions to the bike path along the river in Green Bay:
* South on Frontage Rd one mile
* Right at stop sign onto J Rd, follow it curving left
* At the light, turn left on Velp Rd
* At the third light, bear right on Military Rd
* In appr 2 mi/5 lights, turn left on Mason St
* Take Mason across the river, and the bike path is right there
This got me cruising through the Green Bay suburbs in record time, until I hit the Mason St bridge to find a NO BICYCLES sign. Of course, no signs tell bicyclists where they CAN cross, so I head upriver for a mile until I find a store to ask. Of course, they tell me the only good crossing is a mile and a half downriver. I bit the bullet and went back (out of my way) so I could sample the trail.
The trail was highly scenic, following the river for six miles or so, passing beautiful riverside homes and gardens. Much to my disgust, they also had signs declaring it a user-fee area: pay by the day or by the year. Okay, maybe I'm biased, but I find the idea of paying toll on a bike path abhorrent - if ahything, they should pay users a rebate to encourage them to get out of their cars. If you have something which could alleviate traffic congestion, combat obesity, diminish air pollution, and make the population healthier, why in the world would you charge a fee to discourage its use?!?!? I must give Green Bay a grade of D- for its hositility to bicycle commuters. (And this in a state that pioneered rail trails!)
Since today's ride held the distinction of this tour's longest, and I had an early library talk at 4:00, I left my morning school talk at 9:35 and cranked on the pedals. For hours I averaged over 17 mph, only slowing when I needed to verify directions. As I left the metro area with time running down, I actually shifted up from my high touring gear, pedalling five miles at 21 mph to the final turn toward Kaukauna. I made that turn onto ZZ Rd at 2:50 - just when the rain started. For the last 45 minutes I endured a light rain into Kaukauna, arriving at the library at 3:35 - barely time to freshen up and change clothes in the restroom.
After an informal discussion with the book club, I met my hosts for the night: the library director Rick Krunwiede, and his wife Becky, a lactation consultant (i.e., she sells breast pumps). They treated me to a Cajun restaurant in Appleton, then we retired to their home for good company - just like we'd been best of friends for years. When their son Dave come home from his Geek Squad job, he entertained by juggling three stuffed chickens.

14 May 2007: Celebrity for a Day

Escaba to Marinette: 65.2 mi; 50s w/cool breeze --> ~80 degrees
For the first time in many days, the temperature warmed enough that I could finally shed my jackets by 1:30. The headwinds diminished to around 10 mph, easing my way somewhat, but I still barely averaged 13 mph. When I reached Menominee and took off my jacket, I finally noticed the underlying problem: the rear tire was rubbing horribly on the brakes. (The mechanic at the bike store quickly diagnosed a broken spoke, which likely happened late Saturday when my speeds started dropping.) Of course, there are two bright sides to my misfortune. One, it's a great way to get in shape for my other monster day tomorrow. Two, if I'd gone much faster today, I'd have missed my escort.
As I entered Menominee, a biker heading north called out, "Are you the biker I read about?" Jim had driven in from his home 20 miles away to escort me into town. I followed him to the bike shop, then to the library to check in with Pat Kosuth. We then went to a late lunch, where Jim told me of his upcoming participation in the World Transplant Games in Thailand. (He had a kidney transplant in the early 80s.) Jim then guided me to my hotel, then to the newspaper offices where I picked up a copy of the article they'd printed.
When Jim left to pick up his truck, I returned to the library to type in a blog entry. At 6:00, Jim met me back at the motel, where I was showered and feeling half-way human again. Together we biked to the Theatre by the Bay on the UW-Marinette campus. Maureen met us there, and she introduced me to Kevin, who would handle my lighting and sound. Gosh - I feel almost like a professional! The talk was great, with over twenty people attending - perhaps my best speech yet.
Afterwards, Pat and Maureen took me out for a late dinner and conversation. Past that, Maureen went over maps of the territory I would cover tomorrow, plotting a route through the Green Bay metro area that would keep me on scenic country roads and decomissioned old highways (and away from traffic) as much as possible.

13 May 2007: From Holiday to Hills and Headwinds

Munising to Escanaba (via Pictured Rocks): 8.2 mi to PCNL, 59.5 to Escanaba; low 60s w/chilly headwind
I extended my weekend by a few hours, spending the morning at Pcitured Rocks, hiking on the North Country National Scenic Trail, seeing a waterfall, soaking in the beauty. The North Country Trail begs for further exploration - add it to my long list of places to return to.
After lunch I had a brutal introduction to my new work week, pedalling to Escanaba for tomorrow's school talk. I expected some hills as I left the Lake Superior watershed, and I got a few - but I crested the last one at mile 6, then the land reverted to its typical UP flatness.
Unfortunately, my weather agony wasn't nearly so short-lived. Headwinds gusting at least 20-30 mph battered me all day, dropping my average speed below 12 mph. Facing well over five hours of riding when four should have done it can be discouraging, knowing the wind won't relent if I can just crest one more rise. To keep a positive attitude, I focused on tiny victories. Conquered the last hill? Success! Finished the 'easy' stretch and turned directly into the wind? Another win! Reached the half-way point for the day? Party with a Power Bar!
By the time I turned onto the four-lane divided highway US2, (3/4 done! Woo Woo!) the wind abated - or maybe I just lost the wind-tunnel effect of the narrow roads hemmed in by trees. By that time it hardly made a difference - I had too little in reserve to take advantage and crank up my speed.
I may have finally solved my biological mystery: why does my nose run like a broken water main whenever I bike down the road? I first thought maybe colder temps did it - but Niagara Nose kept gushing gallons even when the temps hit 70s last week. Then I figured maybe the trees and flowers blooming were releasing allergens that turned my schnozz into the Amazon. That theory got shot down as I hiked for 2-3 hours in the woods and along the beach, when my sinuses mimicked the Grand Coulee Dam. However, get off the trail and back on the bike, and five minutes later the floodgates open. By the process of elimination, I finally narrowed it down - I must be allergic to asphalt!

12 May 2007: Experiencing the UP

Newberry to Munising: 58.5 mi + 22.3 to PCNL and back; 40s early, 43 in Munising
The vacation witin my vacation continues. Today, the highlight was Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, the first lakeshore preserved in the National Park System. After biking 58 miles to Munising and getting a room, I discovered that the tour boats giving the best views don't start their season until Memorial Day. No problem - it's only 10 miles by road into the park, and I've got a bike!
I took a wonderful hike to Miner's Beach, through a birch forest just coming into full bloom. I then strolled along the beach, looking at the highly polished pebbles as the waves rolling off Lake Superior melted away my stresses. Next week will be almost all business, but this was sheer pleasure.
The ride today covered the Seney Stretch. I didn't know what to expect in Michigan's UP, but I imagined rolling, glacial hills. Today I actually encountered one rise that qualified as a hill, though it was minor. Even that gentle terrain couldn't prepare me for the Seney Stretch: 24 miles of road straight as an arrow and flat as an ironing board. For the entire stretch, I never saw a car disappear around a bend or vanish behind a rise. Instead, I watched every car that passed me shrink into the distance until I could no longer make them out. Looking ahead, the pavement disappeared into a mirage of water, bounded by a line of pines. Thank heavens I had no head winds - on a ride where you could barely measure progress, to go slower would have been agony.

11 May 2007: Vacation!

Mackinac Island, then St. Ignace to Newberry: 12.2 island mi, 63.4 ride; 60s, cool breeze
Finally, a day with NO time constraints. To treat myself, I ferried across to Mackinac Island. Talk about delightful - a throwback resort with no cars or trucks allowed (only firetrucks, ambulances, or other emergency vehicles). People get around by walking, biking, or horse and buggy. The summer cottages and hotels are impressive, and much of the isle is a state park. On the north shore, you can just sit and watch the waves roll in.
With no time pressures - and facing intermittent head winds for over forty miles - I meandered on the ride to Newberry, averaging only 13.3 mph. For the first time, I saw other bike tourists - a group of five heading back to Charlevoix. By the time I finished for the day, I stopped at the first hotel since they had a hot tub.

10 May 2007: My Feets Didn't Fail Me Now; Neither Did Michiganders

Bellaire to St. Ignace: 83.5 mi; 73 @ noon, 50s at 2:30
Chalk up two more school presentations at the elementary and middle schools in Bellaire. AFter the first one, a boy came up with a magic marker asking for my autograph. Since he had no paper, I asked where he wanted me to sign. "My hand!"
After partaking of the potluck lunch at the school (it was staff appreciation day), I finally left at 11:25 - and I had to go 80 miles for my 7:00 talk in St. Ignace. If I hit my same average speed with breaks, I'd get there around 6:30 - barring any misfortunes. This is one of the days I'd been stressing over.
My feets (and legs, and arms) didn't fail me. Despite one rough stretch that featured eight back-to-back (-to-back-to-back...) hills, I averaged 16 mph the first 90 minutes to Charlevoix. Then I started going fast. The road hugged the shoreline (i.e., flat), and I found a wonderful bike path squeezed between the road and the water. The temps dropped 15 to 20 degrees as fog seeped in over the water. Even after Petoskey, when I had to rejoin the road, I still barrelled along - two hours at a steady 17 mph. I ended the day with a 16.5 average.
As I rushed into St. Ignace at 6:00, none of the three motels I passed en route to the library had yet opened for the season. Due to my late arrival, I just stopped at the library, changed clothes and washed up in the restroom, and prepared for my talk.
I had a small (seven people, counting the librarian) but enthralled crowd. When I opened it for questions after my talk, one woman asked where I was staying that night. Before you could say 'Michigan hospitality', I had a bed for the night.
Bill and Marian King continued my string of wonderful hosts. Their home was unique: built in 1956, it was constructed with GE's 'Kitchen of the Future', an all-steel unit including the cupboards, fridge, and oven in an integrated design. The rest of the house they'd decorated in a railroad motif - train bath towels, locomotive end tables, train telephones, even clocks that played steam whistles on the hour. For my guest room, I had the choice of Northern Pacific or Santa Fe.
On the stroll to their house, Marian filled me in on the history of the region. (I didn't know St. Ignace was the third oldest European-established city in the country, after St. Augustine FL and Sault Ste. Marie MI.) At home, Bill delighted me with his tales of a bicycle trip he took in the Upper Peninsula (UP) in 1944. Besides black-and-white photos, he had typewritten pages describing his days. Example: "Fish Camp to Trout Lake; 45 miles; start 7:30 a.m., end 9:00 p.m.; 4 flats."

9 May 2007: Answers, Rain, & Kids

Traverse City to Bellaire MI: 11.4 mi in city, 37.5 to Bellaire; rainy morning, partly sunny and 60s on ride
Into every ride, some rain must fall. And if I had to choose one day for it to happen, it would have been today.
The skies opened up while I enjoyed a breakfast of yogurt, oatmeal, and homemade jam on toasted homemade bread. Don and I got wet on our six-mile ride to the bike shop where I got some minor maintenance, but by the time we headed to the school (where Don stayed for my first presentation) it was barely spitting, and when I left school after lunch, the storm had passed.
The kids at Grand Traverse Academy were enthusiastic and receptive. Two great questions came up: "If someone gave you all the money you needed or wanted, would you do this full-time?" & "How much longer will you keep doing this?" (a question I'm certain Sue has thought of asking for years.) After the second presentation, one boy came up to me, looked me up and down, said, "WOW," and walked away to join his class.
The ride: again, hills, but again I ended with the same average speed. (For five days, I've hit 15.0, 15.3, 15.5, 15.3, and 15.3. Talk about consistent. If only I can hit that tomorrow.) I rode several miles on the TART, an exemplary bike trail following the railroad tracks. The trail took me by picturesque Grand Traverse Bay, and later I cycled beside beautiful Torch Lake. (One road had a great Adopt-A-Highway sign: "Bellaire Lions neatify this road".)
In Bellaire, the elementary school's only male teacher hosted me for the night. He took me on a tour of another MI ski mountain, this one a golf resort in warmer seasons. After dinner, we drove around Bellaire Lake, and then came home and conversed about kayaking (something I like more than biking!) and summer camps (Ken worked summers as a bus driver and chef and camps in MI).
At least I now have an explanation for Monday morning. (Don't we all wish we could explain Monday mornings?) When I woke up today, my watch said it was shortly past midnight, 1/1/1985. Obviously, my battery was on its last legs, and in its final act of defiance, moved itself up one hour Monday morning.

8 May 2007: Some Time for Relaxing

Cadillac to Traverse City: 45.3 mi; 65 @ 9:00, up to 75
Another great day, another great host family. Scenery kicked up a notch, so did the hills.
Had a relaxing start to the day, repacking my panniers, still searching for the best way to organize them. Vickie whipped up a fantastic breakfast with eggs, sausage, toast, and berries and cream, then I helped her install a new knob on a door they'd just painted. By the time I hit the road at 9:00, it was already warm, en route to getting hot.
In the early going, I struggled to maintain my speed. Had I worn myself out? No, there was a steady, imperceptible grade. After an hour, actual hills erupted, and I grutned up the worst and screamed down their backsides. I ended with the same average speed I'd been hitting.
I finished at 12:30, and rented a car to drive to Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. As always, the NPS site impressed me. At the Lake Michigan overlooks, fog rolling in off the lake made for dramatic vistas, with headlands jutting above the clouds.
My hosts for the night, Yvonne (president of the Cherry Capitol Cycling Club) and Don Cunkle, again made me feel at home. Don - a handy man who restores and gives away broken-down bikes, and who teaches Special Olympic kids to showboard - took me to the library talk, then over to Mt. Holiday, where Yvonne worked with the mountain biking crowd. In the winter, Mt. Holiday is the local (and non-profit) ski mountain -a solitary bump rising maybe 250 feet, with a chair lift going to the top.

7 May 2007:From Frenzied to Friendly

Mt. Pleasant to Cadillac: 64.8 mi; 36 degrees to school, 60s for ride
Talk about a surreal way to start a big day...
With a morning talk scheduled for 8:25, I arranged a wake-up call for 6:40 on the remote chance I would oversleep. Instead, I tossed and turned all night, waking up and immediately falling back asleep many times.
When I finally opened my eyes to check the time, my watch said 7:35. Panicked, I leapt from the bed, threw on my clothes, answered the hour-late wakeup call, and rushed downstairs. I stuffed a few muffins and an apple from the continental breakfast in a bag and biked three miles in near-freezing temps to the school.
My watch showed 8:15 when I got there - my agreed time to arrive. The school was locked and dark, so I had to call their number to get someone to let me in. The person who arranged my talk didn't arrive for another 30 minutes. When she got there, Holly remarked that I had arrived rather early. After all, it was only 7:45!
I have NO idea why my watch was off by an hour. I had set it ahead two hours when I flew in. I'm sure it was right when I left the airport, and the following morning waiting for the museum to open. I could swear I'd turned on the 10:00 news at 10:20 the night before. So am I resetting my watch in my sleep? (That'd be a trick - I have a hard enough time setting it when I'm awake.)
The talk went well (but for a DVD glitch) at the school. The ride to Cadillac excelled -- for the third day running, my biking speed increased, even with the late hills slowing me down. With the exception of one narrow, dusty stretch, the roads were a biker's paradise.
As I get further from the big cities in the south, I'm finding the Michiganders to be a very friendly lot. In Clare, Chuck and Mary asked me all about my trip as I stopped for a protein break, and were extremely grateful when I gave them a book (they reciprocated by giving me Cliff bars and Larabars). A half hour later, in Farwell, three different people stopped to ask about my trip or tell me about the road ahead.
In Cadillac, the Essenmacher family were incredible hosts. I chatted with Vickie and Andrea (who had just graduated from med school) until Doug came home. We then met another Friend of the Library (Rosemary, who first arranged my talk) for dinner as they treated me to Mexican food. After my library talk, they gave me a tour of the scenic town.
The library talk went well, even when we couldn't get the DVD to play. I regaled 22 people with memories of the road, and sold xsix books to boot That ranks as one of my best talks ever!

6 May 2007: Excess Miles & No Memories

E Lansing to Mt. Pleasant: 80.6 mi; 60s, cool breeze from SE
Today I covered six more miles than yesterday, in the same amount of time. I must be hitting my stride. Of course, seven or eight of those miles came courtesy of the MI highway system.
I had mapped out a route that took me nearly due north, requiring only a few miles on the area's main highway, US127. When Old-127 merged with that highway, though, big signs barred all bicycles. I bopped back a quarter mile to the last E/W road and asked someone about the best parallel route. After all, roads hew to the mile-square grid here.
True, he said, but all the farm roads heading north every mile quickly turn to dirt. He gave me the bad news: I had to head west six miles to find another N/S paved road. That forced me to then backtrack a mile or two east (into the wind) to reach Alma. (This, of course, violates US DOT regulations, which state that limited-access roads must allow bicycles if there is no adjacent alternate route.)
This was my return to my old haunts. Thirty-one years ago during college, I spent one summer vacation living in Alma and working outside Mt. Pleasant. So far, it's a bust - I haven't seen anything that stirred any specific memories. Sure, I vaguely recalled the main drag in Alma, a road that the local teens cruised up and down every Friday night. I also saw a sign for Woodworth Ave, which sounded familiar -- is that the street we lived on? Otherwise I'm drawing a blank. I know that it has been three decades. I was here in a different era, before the freeway bypassed the towns, before the internet and cell phones, before WalMarts proliferated into every corner of the country.
It's ironic, I guess. When I spent the summer here, I sold books (not my own) door-to-door. Now, I hawk books (my own) school-to-library. Has life really come full circle?

5 May 2007 - No News is Good News?

Ypsilanti to E Lansing: 73.4 mi; 60s, high thin clouds, tail or side wind
Pretty uneventful day - and when you're on an adventure, uneventful is not bad.
I had perhaps the best weather of any day 1 of my tours - filtered sun in the morning, high clouds in the afternoon, a wind that mostly stayed at my back (it hit from the side the last ten miles).
The road from Ann Arbor to Chelsea was a biker's nirvana. I've never seen so many bicyclists on one road in any of my tours.

4 May 2007 - A Day of Firsts:

Detroit airport to Ypsilanti: 19.9 mi; tail wind, 60s
It was:
* The first time I assembled my bike at an airport, rather than doing it leisurely at where I would stay that night.
* The first time I had not arranged my first night's accomodations ahead of time. I had checked out hotels on the web, so I knew which direction to head.
* The first time that I never trained with a load on my bike. It didn't hurt my speed, though - I couldn't have gone any faster without risking flats until I could get my tires properly inflated to 100+ psi.
* The first time a cop ever pulled me over on my bike -- and the first time I was ever happy to see those flashing red lights! As I cycled out of the airport, still getting used to the balance of my fully loaded bike, I hugged the right curb as cars that had picked up passengers zoomed past. Suddenly, two more lanes merged with ours, with cars that had dropped off passengers now whizzing by on my right. As I rolled down the middle of this four lane highway, still getting used to my balance, I wondered how I could possibly get over without dying. That's when the motorcycle cop pulled up, lights flashing to slow the traffic, ordering me to pull over. When I did, he kept going, only stopping when I began waving at him so I could get directions.
A side note: don't you hate it when an obnoxious tune gets stuck in your head, endlessly replaying itself? I had that all day. That feeling is even worse when it's the silly ditty you created a week earlier. (If you haven't heard my 'Camping Song', go to YouTube.com and search for 'litterwalk'.) I wonder if Lennon and McCartney ever felt like that...

The adventure nears...

3 May 07: Once again, the day nears for the newest adventure. For many reasons, this trip proved more challenging to prepare for than previous tours, between crises at home, other vacations, and the myriad problems trying to create new DVDs for my speeches. Hopefully it will all come together tomorrow.