Night37 Dunnville ON (Coordinates)

n 42 54.993, w 79 39.092
Long day. Late day. Sleep now. New York tomorrow!

Night36 Lambeth Ontario (Coordinates)

n 42 55.420, w 81 16.591
I'm beat, so I'm just catching up on coordinates.

Do I Look Happy?

Mom sent a copy of my birth certificate to Port Huron, and I rode down to the post office to retrieve it. The woman behind the counter, a pleasant looking person, was a bit frustrated with me as I questioned her for clarity about the forms I had to fill in. The reason I mention it is that she was at least the tenth unfriendly person I ran into in Port Huron. People in traffic, at the motel, at convenience stores- just unhappy. I was anxious to get out of Michigan.

Totally Tubular

I think the guy's name is Dan, and I never learned the girl's name, but they did me a solid. Last night as I was checking the pressure in my tires, they both blew. I didn't even know if I had two spares. I did, but just two.
I've been splitting the rubber at the base of the valve. The only way I know how, right now, to avoid it is to leave the tires alone.
Now that I'm down to no spares, and a recurring type of tube failure that's almost impossible to patch, I'm hyper-sensitive to the road.
After talking with ''Dan'' and ''girl'' for a while at a restaurant where we were both taking a meal break, I mentioned my predicament. Dan said he happened to have a tube that wouldn't fit his tire and that I should take it. What luck, really. I thanked him over and again; he was giving me peace of mind, not just a tube.
Dan has been cross country twice by himself, and now he and girl are heading up to Minnesota to see some friends. They were shocked to hear that they were the first people I've met who were also traveling by bike. (I've met many cyclists, but no one on a bike trip.)
My good luck continues. I might have to stop at Turningstone Casino on my way through New York.

Night35 Port Huron MI (Coordinates)

n 43 00.378, w 82 26.448
So here I am. Again. Six years ago I was in this exact same motel. I remember because I walked over to White Castle to get something to eat. It is the first and only White Castle I've seen. The picture here could be the house of the woman who let me sleep in her backyard the night before the last day of the first attempt. I can't remember exactly, but it seems familiar. I remember how crappy the roads are around here. Not just the shoulder, but the lane as well. The only other thing I recognized was a restaurant I had eaten at. It's now closed down.
Tomorrow I cross into Canada, and if my experience is the same as last time I'm going to be forced to find transport over the bridge. That means calling for a cab.

Today marks five weeks on the road. Because I'm so close to New York I feel as if I'm done, or I should be done, but then I realize I still have another week. And a week is still longer than any bike trip I've ever done in the past. A lot of miles left to cover. At the same time, the miles have been flying by. Not in terms of speed, but in routine. 75 miles a day is as nothing now. And honestly, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan I'm sure have their own distinct personalities, but to me they have been far too subtle to detect. One day is very much like the next lately. Am I anxious to get home finally? No. But I can't wait to see Von Reno again!

Night33 (Continued)

The trooper and I chatted more. He sighed more. I assured him I would just be riding down to the next exit. The shoulder here was wide and clean, so I felt very safe, and he finally did as well. He even gave me advice where to stay, and where not to stay in town.
We shook hands, and he wished me a good trip, and I thanked him. He really was a cool guy- didn't take himself too seriously, but obviously cared about his job protecting people.

Night33 Clare MI (Coordinates)

n 43 49.199, w 84 46.215
I didn't take a single picture today. I wish I had taken one of the Michigan state trooper who pulled me over. He turned out to be a really friendly and helpful guy. Turned out, because at first he was a mix between amused and exasperated.
''What are you doing?'' he said, as he got out of his car. I had stopped not because I had seen him, but because he pulled up behind me and sounded one of those emergency buzzes.
I told him I was just riding down to Clare, which at this point was only a couple of miles away.
''This is the freeway,'' he said.
''I've just been following Route 10 and it turned into a freeway,'' I said. It was perfectly true. And there were no signs restricting pedestrians or bikes when it happened. He asked where I was coming from. I told him Seattle originally, but today from Ludington.
''You rode from Ludington today?'' he asked. ''That's-''
''95 miles,'' I finished his thought.
He smiled. He sighed. ''I want to get you off the road, bring you to the next exit.'' He could tell by the look on my face that I had not come this far to get a two-mile lift. ''But you probably don't want that,'' he said.
He smiled and chuckled some more, and we talked some about my trip. He said he understood about the commitment and not wanting a ride since he had been riding his motorcycle into work every day, rain or shine. For some reason he couldn't today, and he felt like he had broken a promise with himself.
(Continued)

Testing

Phone Problems

Night32 Ludington MI (Coordinates)

n 43 57.312, w 86 26.559
The boat trip took four hours, and adding an hour for entering the eastern time zone made it close to 7:00 before I actually deboarded with my bike. I wanted to put some miles in, but the weather was still lousy, and I was drained from the ferry- like sitting in a car or on a plane for an extended time.
So instead of riding I opted to find a room for the night, get something to eat, and maybe get out on the road early the next morning. The room was cheap and comfortable. The calamari from the Italian restaurant was delicious. Two out of three ain't bad.

Crossed A Great Lake

8 States.

Unclear

I hoped to spend the day on the open deck, but the conditions continue to be lousy. There were some rumbles of thunder during the trip, but really it's just plain old rainy.

Inside

There are two decks that serve cafeteria-style food. There are multiple outdoor observation areas. There is a quiet room/museum. There is an arcade. There is a theatre. There are small state rooms. There are two TV viewing areas.
I'd rather be on my bike.

Boarding the Badger

The S.S. Badger. Once used to transport freight cars, it was built in 1953, put out of service as the railroad hit hard economic times, and reinvented as a passenger ferry in 1991. It's 420 feet long and 60 feet wide, weighing 8,000 tons. (There's a small theater with an informational movie, too.)
$59 for me, and $5 for my bike. Bye, Wisconsin.

Deadliest Klatch

With all of their pots soaking on the bottom of Lake Michigan, the old crew takes a well-deserved break. (You should hear the language- especially out of the mouth of that Menonite octagerarian!)

Night31 Manitowoc WI (Coordinates)

n 44 05.348, w 87 39.584
Lake Michigan in the background. Tomorrow, Thursday, I should be relaxing on the S.S. Badger, a boat that ferries its riders to Michigan. I know this seems to break the meticulous rules of this ocean to ocean ride, and it does. I don't make any caveats or excuses. Despite being a cheat, there are reasons I wanted to travel this way.
I've never been to Wisconsin. And now I have.
But mostly, when I attempted this ride six years ago, part of my plan to make it in time to DDFF and Geni's wedding on time was to ride the ferry from Michigan to Wisconsin. I made it to Michigan. I did not make it to Wisconsin.
In a few days I should be back on my original route.

Night30 Waupaca WI (Coordinates)

n 44 21.455, w 89 06.637
Big day, trying to make a two-day push out of Wisconsin.

Night29 Neillsvile WI (Coordinates)

n 44 33.102, w 90 35.749
I woke up kind of late at the empty house, so Day29 was shorter than average. No rain, no wind. A pleasant ride of long rolling terrain. Wisconsin is a lot less flat than I imagined it to be.

Night28 The Whole Story Part III

Remember that it was pouring, and after 85 miles, I was tired and it was late. What are the chances that I find a deserted house in the middle of the first monster storm of the trip? I don't know. And the fact that the house has a large, unlocked porch with roof and walls? It doesn't matter. I found it, and I was going to take full advantage of my luck. After setting up the tent and sleeping bag, and changing clothes- all kept dry in panniers and garbage bags- I instinctively snapped into my regular routine of charging my phone and iPod for the next day. What are the chances a rider in a storm stumbles upon a deserted house with enclosed back porch with working outlets? Very, very small, I'm sure. But, damn, I'm lucky.
The next morning, with fully-charged devices, I looked into the clear and sunny distance to see three motel signs rising into the air like church steeples, not even a mile away.
Near the motels was a McDonald's, and as I filled my cup with ice and Diet Coke, I felt vaguely as if I was Tom Hanks in ''Castaway'', returning to civilization. Of course, all I did was sleep on a porch, and I didn't have to perform any dentistry with an iceskate. (I would have, though!)

Night28 The Whole Story Part II

I didn't want to surprise or worry the homeowners. I had no idea whether they saw me pull into their driveway or not. I thought it best to at least let them know I was there. Maybe they'd be able to help.
As I approached the front door, I noticed a device locked around the handle. My mother used to work in real estate, and I thought this might be what they use to lock away a key for agents to access. It didn't look quite the same as those I've seen before, and I thought maybe instead it was some sort of alarm.
No doorbell, so I knocked, and knocked, and knocked. I tried to peek into the adjacent windows, but either they were opaque or the inside was completely dark. I looked for other windows to check, and worked my way around to the back of the house. The back porch was the first part of the entire property that seemed to say the house was empty. There was no door, but more than that it looked as though decorations had been removed. And now I saw that many of the windows, still covered by old curtains, were broken. The back porch had a sliding glass door, and I could clearly see that the inside was almost completely empty. A few tables with trivial decorations were left just to fill the space some. I knocked just in case. No answer.

Night28 The Whole Story Part I

I would have stopped in Elk Mound, because by that time it had already begun pouring. But Elk Mound didn't even have a mound of elks, let alone a place to stay. The next sign said seven miles to Eau Claire. I continued, and so did the rain, but only one of us was gaining power and confidence.
Then the lightning. It's a topic of discussion and debate among cyclists about what to do when you're caught like this. The wisest thing, ''they'' say, is to pull over, stay away from tall objects, get away from the bike, and squat on the balls of your feet. If lightning does strike nearby, it is less likely to travel through your heart if you are only minorly connected to the ground.
What really happens is this: every time lightning strikes nearby you duck your head for a second, utter something blasphemous, and pedal faster.
And that's just what I did until the lightning was striking on both sides of the road, and I spotted the house. It was still pouring at this point, and I had no idea how long it would last. I only wanted to get under a roof, and not knowing if the residents would let a soaking stranger in, I headed for a sure thing- the garage.
Under the tin roof the rain was deafening, but I instantly felt much safer. Time to get my bearings. No end in sight to the storm. Visibility as far as the road, a hundred yards, but no further. A car with grass growing around it, this garage, and the house. Me, soaked to the skin and a little cold.

Hybrid Man Saves Day

Before I was on this bike trail over the bridge into Wisconsin, I was on the other side of that wall hitchhiking from an entrance ramp onto Route 94. I tried to flag down pickup after pickup with no success. After 15 minutes a Prius stopped. Ten points for fuel efficiency, but zero for being any help, I thought.
Turns out the guy is a cyclist, and after offering to give me a ride, he said, ''You know, there's a bike trail over the bridge just on the other side of this wall.'' Shocked, I thanked him repeatedly, and found the trail. I've ridden every mile of this route so far, and didn't plan to hitch a half-mile-long shuttle over any bridges. Staying on the bike is what pleased me most.

M-I-Crooked Letter-Crooked Letter-...

''All right, then, I'll go to hell.''
- Huckleberry Finn
If any of my former fifth graders are reading this, they should recognize this qoute. Of course, it was much, much further downstream that he uttered these famous words, but this is that Mississippi River nonetheless.
I'm more than half way, but still this feels like a landmark.
And in a way, I, like Huck, have wanted to escape civilization for a little while. Maybe I'll ditch the bike and find a raft.

Night27 Oakdale MN (Coordinates)

n 44 57.116, w 92 59.148
After passing through Minneapolis and St. Paul, I started hunting for a place to stay. It wasn't a long day in terms of miles, but with all the traffic and stoplights and crimes being committed, it was a slow day. In the outskirts of the city I was sitting in a restaurant calling different local motels for a room. The cheapest I could find was $99, after one place wanted $135. I just need a bed and a bathroom, maybe a TV. An older couple overheard me on the phone and made a couple of suggestions. The man was willing to drive me down to one place to check it out, but I told him I didn't want to leave the bike. They pointed me down the correct road, and I got a decent room at a good price. Note: I have had 100% positive experiences with strangers, many going out of their way to help.
Caught up on Tour de France coverage, and got some good sleep not knowing what tomorrow would bring.

What Is It? 2

Music Quiz

Do, do, do do do.

Second Millenium

2,000 miles.
n 44 46.241, w 91 18.767

Two Tone

Today, Day28, over 1,900 miles, I finally got rained on. No need for sunscreen the last couple of days.

Al and Senada

The first thing Al and Senada offered me was a beer. Senada got the room ready, and Al and I sat on the deck drinking Heineken. When the room was done, Senada joined us with a beer of her own. We sat and talked and talked, and they were both interested and interesting. Like sitting with old friends, Senada is jovial and direct, and Al is dry and witty. (Al showed me a great joke I'll share with my Polish friends and relatives back home.)
In the morning we ate breakfast together. Senada cooked steak, two types of quiche, and crepes. We had fresh tomatoes from the garden, and mango and blueberry juices. To top it off, streudel with whipped cream. The best meal of my trip, with the best of hosts.
After breakfast, as Senada was running in and out of the house trying different batteries in her camera, Al and I chatted some more, and I repaired a flat on my rear tire. I ultimately hated to leave, but needed to get through Minneapolis and St. Paul. Senada finally got her camera working. She snapped pictures of me as I was leaving, and I happily obliged to giving her action shots by riding up the street the wrong way, turning around, and riding by. This took two tries before we got it coordinated.
Al and Senada- Thanks again for everything. I hope that our paths might cross again.

Minnesota

Copycat

The capital building of Minnesota, St. Paul's, looks to me like a cross between Washington DC's and Albany's. In addition, just to the left is that columned office. No Egg, though.

Namesake

St. Paul's Cathedral in St. Paul.

Minnesota Fruit War?

A grower from Wisconsin sneaked in and put up this sign.

Speed

Minneapolis was a speed bump. Straight through was the most direct, and would ultimately save me time and miles, but city traffic effects bikes just like other vehicles. When I'm riding in conjestion, I position myself as if I was a car. Riding on sidewalks would be crazy, if it were legal, since pedestrians are much more unpredictable than drivers.
Before leaving Minneapolis I was treated to a couple of sights of interest. The first was an obvious drug deal going down from the window of a car I passed. The second was a blocked street. The reason the street was impassable was that the police were frisking a couple of young men they had stopped right in the middle. I assumed they were police even though they were wearing fatigue-style uniforms. A crowd had gathered, and I slowly rolled up to the front. After waiting a moment I noticed the sidewalk was clear, so I continued on. As I passed the bust, I also passed another officer and couldn't help but notice he was carring not a handgun, but a high-powered rifle. At the end of the block some people were yelling at each other that the street was closed, and incoming cars would have to turn around. I took an unplanned right, and a left at the next block. Within moments I was
passing artsy cafes. This scizophrenia seemed to be typical of Minneapolis. One moment an art gallery, another, a gun shop.

Night28 Eau Claire WI (Coordinates)

n 44 51.042, w 91 36.849
In for the night with a roof over my head. It rained on and off all day, finishing with a nice big thunderstorm that's still rumbling outside. Wisconsin so far reminds me a lot of New York. More trees than Montana, fewer endless flats than Minnesota, and about the same amount of corn fields and strip malls.

New Tattoo

Inside my right calf. Okay, it's just road sludge and oil off the chainring, but it might make a cool tattoo.

Papa Needs New Shoe Parts

I caught up to a guy out riding near Minneapolis, and asked him if he knew of any bike shops close by. He said since it was Saturday they'd all be closed by now. I needed to get new cleats for my clipless pedal shoes. I installed some just before I left home, but I've worn them out already.
He turned off to eat, and not five miles down the road I found a huge bike shop, open. Found the cleats no problem as well. Good luck continues.

Night26 Montrose MN (Coordinates)

n 45 03.873, w 93 54.612
The Butterfly Inn is a beautiful bed and breakfast in Montrose, Minnesota. Like stepping back in time to the turn of the century. Two turns ago, that is.
Check it out: http://www.butterflyinnmn.com/

Backup

I picked up a riding partner late in the day. We only rode together for about three seconds, and we never spoke, but I was able to preserve our time together in this picture.
Nothing special about this day, but the night would prove to be one of the most memorable of the trip. Read about the Butterfly Inn.

Stats-ts-ts-ts-ts

Day18: 80 miles
Day19: 85 miles
Day20: 60 miles
Day21: 70 miles
Day22: 75 miles
Day23: 25 miles
Day24: 101 miles
Day25: 85 miles
Day26: 60 miles
Day27: 55 miles
Total Miles: 1,898
Total Time in Saddle: 141 hours
Total States Visited: 6

Night25 Willmar MN (Coordinates)

n 45 05.781, w 95 02.401
South Dakota, check. Another windy, but otherwise uneventful day. My first time ever in Minnesota, the land of 10,000 lakes. Some of the names I like: Mud Lake, Fish Lake, Big Fish Lake, Rice Lake, Big Rice Lake, Prior Lake, Long Lake, Long Lake, Long Lake, Long Lake, Long Lake, and Long Lake. Well, 10,000 different names is tough.