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!