Three adages illustrated

mostly sunny, around 70; 9:50-5:50, 57.8 miles
It's nice to get a hand up. The trip's third flat, coming only eight miles into the day's ride, almost undid me. I'd used my two new tubes days before, and the extra spare had its own hole. We discovered that after mounting it, so the tire came back off. We then tried patching two of the tubes I'd blown earlier, but they still leaked. As I grew increasingly frustrated, a car stopped to ask if we needed help, though they couldn't provide what we needed. Then the man whose home we had stopped in front of came out. Quickly Jay called the nearest bike shop to verify they were open, then drove us back twenty miles so I could buy new tubes (and replace the tire tools I'd broken). Then it was back to Jay's place, where he gave us pizza for lunch before seeing us down the road. Thanks, Jay - you Ohioans are incredible!
It's nice to give a hand up. Ten miles later I saw a couple struggling to push their car back onto the road. I stopped and added some extra muscle, helping them accomplish their goal. I know it amounted to little, but they appreciated it. It felt good to be on the giving rather than the receiving side for once.
You can never go back to Rome. (or is it 'back home'? Well, they both rhyme.) Today's ride covered the territory we hit after reclaiming the car, when pulled ligaments in her knee meant Sue could do NO walking whatsoever. She would pull ahead and busy herself with needlepoint and crosswords, envying me as I trod through the hot, humid miles. We again had our trip enhanced when the tiny hamlet of Rome, OH (birthplace of the Rome apple) amazed us again with midwestern hospitality.
If anything, the visit to the burgh depressed me. The store with the soda fountain, where the owner regaled us with tales of his Indian chief ancestors, had closed shortly after our 1993 visit. The widow who cooked us dinner and breakfast had moved to Columbus. The post office that hooked us up with a camping spot - closed for the weekend. The whole town seemed but a shell of the place I fondly remembered.
Interesting sign for a specialized business - in Portsmouth we cycled past the Gallia Shoelace and Narrow Fabric Factory. Talk about finding a niche!

A day off...

... with good friends - no better way to spend a vacation day.
I should always remember to schedule an off day on these trips - they heal the physical aches as well as recharge the soul. We began the day by attending a service at the Red Oak Church, then toured the adjoining cemetery where Aunt Jemima is buried. For the afternoon we went to the movies (Mission Impossible 3), amazed that they only charged $3 a ticket. (Try close to $10 back home!) Steve then took us on a tour of Ripley's historic sites associated with the Underground Railroad. (In that era, the town was known as the Black Hole of Abolitionism.) Steve and Darcy then treated us to a first-class dinner of grilled steaks and Zatarans rice.

Philosophies of bike touring

sunny, 70; 11:15-5:50, 59.6 miles
As we head (mostly) north, we enter a new variety of terrain. Now we hit land dominated by farms and gently rolling hills. Still scenic, though with more subtle beauty. (It's still much prettier than Kansas and eastern Colorado!)
I had two talks this morning. First I spoke to the sociology class Steve teaches at the community college. Talking to older students proved fascinating. We ran a contest, awarding a book to the person asking the most interesting question. The winner asked, "You mentioned how warmly you have been received. How do you think that reception would change if you were black, or Hispanic, or Arabic, or an old bald guy with a limp?"
Good thought! I had to admit that a segment of the populace would let prejudice color their reaction. Far more important, I suggested, was how you project yourself. If you treat people with suspicion (or even worse, fear), they will pick up on that and treat you accordingly -- making it a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you don't give them the benefit of the doubt, why should they bother trying to change your mind?
If you instead treat the people you meet with respect - in effect, tell them, "I trust you until you give me reason not to" - you will get that back. Granted, at some point someone will betray that trust and take advantage of you - but you must remain focused on the hundred good experiences, letting them overwhelm the bad one. This I most firmly believe.
Darcy arranged a talk at her middle school a half-hour later. We showed the To Tell The Truth video before I strolled into the gym, getting a huge ovation. The kids enjoyed the talk, peppering me with questions. Afterwards we took pictures of Tim and I with our hosts before we rolled down the road.
Silly biker games - When you see a line of traffic coming at you, wave at every car and see how many people wave back. Actually, the only silly part would be keeping track of the return waves - often, glare on the windshields keeps you from telling whether they're waving, but I wave anyway. I look at it as being a good ambassador on a bike, showing motorists that bicyclists are nice people (sometimes) and deserve a share of the road. Perhaps they'll treat the next cyclist they see with respect, or ask about their trip. And as we learned on the walk, sometimes a person you waved at will seek you out later and make your day.

Riding at our own paces

sunny, low 70s; 12:00-7:15, 81.7 miles
Today's challenge came before we mounted our bikes: plotting our route around the perimeter of Columbus. We spent an hour at the library (with the eager help of the librarian) finding the best combination of farm and country roads to take us north.
I then stopped to visit Hopewell Culture Nat'l Historic Park while Tim got a jump on the day's long ride. By the time I got started at noon, the cycling conditions were perfect - high 60s, slight breeze to my back, flat roads. I started with a time trial, seeing how far I could pedal in 30 minutes: 9.7 miles, an incredible 19.4 mph on a loaded bike.
The ride ran through land turning more agricultural. By the time I finally caught up to Tim in Dublin, where we'd planned to finish, he suggested making use of the wonderful weather and jam it another 16 miles to Marysville. Now we'll have a short day tomorrow to Kenton, where I have two speaking gigs arranged.

Library ladies

60s, increasing clouds; 9:30-12:40, 35.0 miles
Good thing we had a short day today - we managed to finish before the predicted showers arrived. Of course, tomorrow will likely end our streak of dry biking days.
We had a delightful evening in Kenton. Sharon Moore (from the library board) and Janet Eibling (from the local Keep America Beautiful chapter) arranged for our motel room, then they treated us to dinner in town. From there we proceeded to the library, where I gave a presentation to an audience of ten -- including a young boy who was interested enough to purchase my books. After Sharon took us back to the room, she saved me from disaster by returning to the library to retrieve my video and DVD that I had left there, bringing them back to us. Thank you thank you thank you! Another fine day as we near the end of our trek.

Stormy weather

high 50s, cloudy, windy; 10:30-4:00, 60.6 miles
On some days, the ride is the highlight. Not today. After eighteen consecutive days of wonderful weather, a storm system and cold front moved through Ohio. The downpour started last night, drenching the town while I talked at the library, and continued through the night. As I biked the quarter-mile to the high school this morning, steady rain greeted me.
By the time I finished, the rain had paused, leaving a sky filled with angry clouds and the promise of more rain to come. Heading north on US68, I fought a steady wind from the west. When those gusts combined with the air turbulence from the passing trucks, handling the bike became difficult, and I feared being blown off the road.
However, our luck held. After reaching Findlay (a town with stately homes and friendly people - I'll have to explore it on a future trip), we took a succession of off-the-beaten-track roads with NO trucks. Other than a dozen or so drops of rain, it stayed dry. The wind also shifted, providing at least a little boost from behind. We made Pemberville earlier than planned.
Perhaps to compensate for the chilly wind-blown ride, I had a great time at the school, talking first to seniors and juniors, then sophomores and freshmen - about 650 students in all. The older kids responded to my contest ("The best question wins a book!") with several thought-provoking queries like, "What is your main goal in life?" and "Did taking the walk strengthen your marriage?" I chose Tawne the winner for her question: "You mentioned the man who just walked across America to lose weight. What was your motivation?" After the assembly ended, a few students came forth to talk further, and one asked me to sign his tee shirt.
Mr. Davis warned me about the younger kids, and unruly bunch. "I just broke up a fight in the hallway, and twenty kids asked if they could back to the classroom and skip the talk. Good luck!" Despite his warning, they stayed attentive, and I gave the contest book to the student who asked, "Did you ever feel like quitting?" When I gave it to him, he confessed to dreaming about riding his bike cross-country when he finishes college. I may have inspired another adventurer!
Now we're ensconced for the night in Pemberville, experiencing another first -- the first night I've ever spent in a fire station! I called up the fireman who had befriended me when I biked through here in 2004, and he said he'd find a place for us for the night. When we arrived, we found out that the place was the volunteer fire department - the last shift left at 5:00, giving us the run of the place (as long as we didn't play with the sirens). Shower, kitchen, laundry, computer, TV - and a lot bigger than the hotel rooms we'd been squeezing into. Of course, if they get an emergency call tonight ... that would likely be like a mega-alarm clock.

Dodging raindrops

40s and wet; 8:40-12:20, 35.3 miles
The rain pounded down all night, continuing as we crossed the street to breakfast with Larry (who grabbed the check) and crossed back to the fire station. Ten minutes later, after Bill Smith (owner of PhotoSmith, a professional photographer) had taken our portraits in front of the fire trucks and starting down the road, the rain had paused. For thirteen miles we rolled north through a semi-rural landscape down wet roads.
Two miles later, the moment we entered a stretch of strip malls and chain stores outside Toledo, the rain started anew. For another ten miles we fought heavy traffic through the city, with spray from the passing vehicles mixing with the water from the sky to keep us plenty chilled. Finally we left the city and entered Michigan, the terrain returning to rural. We now endured intermittent rain and continuing cold up to La Salle, where Tim arranged for his sister-in-law Carol to pick us up. We had envisioned cycling directly to Tim's door, but the miserable conditions (and my freezing wet toes) convinced us that we didn't really need to cycle another forty miles.
The rest of the day I relaxed at Tim's before his mother, his brother Tom, and Carol came over for a barbecue. Now I must psyche myself to re-enter the 'real world' tomorrow.
After all, if your vision of America is colored by the 6:00 news, you probably never believed the America we discovered really exists. And that would be a shame...