Epilogue: 9 September 2010: Leap and the Net Will Appear.

A month back on solid ground and as suggested by fellow rider Sarah I am participating in a commemorative "jersey day". I am pictured in a storage unit full of books that I am sorting for online sales as well as for a weekend book sale to benefit our UU church in Belfast.

I have been immersed in ride photos that I took as well as the 4000 plus taken by Mike Munk. The benefit of passing time has given me the perspective I need to pare the lot down to a manageable size. Neither my friends nor the local groups for whom I am doing presentations want to sit through hours of pictures and with distance I am able to distinguish the really splendid from those that can perish in obscurity. Waves of delight and nostalgia wash over me as I go through the pics-- exhaustion, tedium and demoralization don't show up at all. Every turn and bend in the road looks enticing, the open plains are enchanting and the hills look far less formidable than they did when I started toiling up them weeks ago.

Negative impressions? Our nation is seeing tough times and will continue to do so for years. The factory farming of beef and hogs is appalling as is the dominance of corn and soybeans-- most of which go to feed the cattle and hogs. The careless disregard of resources bothered me a great deal-- there were never ways to recycle drink bottles or newspapers, water is being sucked out of the rivers to irrigate otherwise arid lands, the towns have been drained of their vibrancy while around cities one finds with miles of parking lots and huge stores, the convenience stores and restaurants are flooded with cheap and unhealthy food and the evidence of our addiction to oil is most discouraging.

Leaving aside the big picture, however, there was plenty of bliss-- the lovely early mornings, the sweet silent freedom of two wheels, the superb scenery of the West, and the quiet beauty of the high desert. There was the supportive care of the "A Team" , the best group of t staff conceivable and there were the other riders-- fifty days in which fifty strangers became friends. People we saw morning and evening and in passing throughout the day-- fifty people who came together to share the crazy dream of cycling from the Pacific to the Atlantic. It wasn't all gorgeous and it wasn't all fun, but it was all part of the whole and I, at least, drew much support from the strength of the group.

In the weeks before the ride many people questioned whether such a trip made sense and John and I were both plagued with self-doubt. We didn't let our worries paralyze us-- we trained, made arrangements to get ourselves and our bikes out to Oregon and stifled the sinking feelings that attacked us in the middle of the night. Day followed day and one morning we found ourselves cycling out of the hotel parking lot in Astoria and heading east. How did I make it?

I leapt and the net did appear.

Day 50: Manchester to Rye, NH

Drank a drop too much wine last night at the banquet so got up feeling just slightly off kilter but I drank lots of orange juice and came around very quickly. Not sad to think that it was the last of 54 nights in a hotel but choked up several times during the ride as I realized that it really was coming to an end. My spells of sadness receded every time we hit another hill-- and there were plenty of them even though the ride was relatively short (about 58 miles with only 2500 feet of climbing). Sort of amazing that the hills never seemed to get easy despite the many that I managed to drag myself up. Next week I will try some of my local hills and see if they give me less trouble than they did when I was training.

I was in good time for a traditional last group gathering at "Me and Ollie's", a bakery and coffee shop in Exeter and knowing that we had only about 12 miles to ride left us all relaxed and convivial. When we reluctantly broke up for the final leg to the middle school in Rye where we would convene for the final bit of the ride, we were all torn between happy and sad. By the time we got to Rye it was hot and humid but we suffered through a group picture session, endured the waiting while the police escort was organized and had the inevitable very last minute flat (not mine, thank goodness) which was fixed in just a couple of minutes by Jim, our fabulous mechanic.

The honor of riding first on the way to the beach fell to the four slowest riders-- me, Ian, Helen and Ellen-- so we were right behind the van. Being first I couldn't get any sense of what we looked like but with someone else driving Mike crouched in the open back door of the van and took pictures. It was a nice slow trip with the police ahead of us and stopping traffic as we came onto Route 1 to Wallis Sands State Park and then in a moment it was all over. Like many others John and I were greeted by friends and family. Cyclists went down onto the beach-- on such a hot day crowded with regular beach people-- dipped their bikes and took pictures. The time for tearful farewells and hugs was pretty much at an end for those of us not staying at the hotel another night. We gathered our luggage from the truck and went out to lunch with my friend Liz, my sisters Tamar and Kate, and my daughter Margaret. My sister Sybil and her significant other Peter had been at the beach to greet us but left before lunch because Peter was setting off on his own adventure-- a drive to Alaska. Got home to Northport at about 6:30 and had an ecstatic reunion with Dog Darby and a lovely evening settling in to being home!

Day 49: Brattleboro, VT to Manchester, NH

After my glorious day of cycling to Brattleboro and my dinner with friends and family, this day turned into something of an ordeal. Perhaps worried about a ride with 5600 feet of climbing (yesterday was only 5000), perhaps because of the iced espresso I had yesterday, I had a restless and wakeful night and got up feeling less than cheery. In addition, I was reluctant to leave early because the N.H. line was only a mile from the hotel and I wanted to get a picture with John. All things considered it was not a good start to the day.

One nice thing that happened was that our friends Rich and Loranne Block came out to meet us at the first SAG, mile 36. It happened to be on Route 9 in Antrim, only a short distance from where they live. Sadly, I couldn't relax and chat for long because I was so panicked about the ride ahead. It was one hilly ride. Nan said "whoever designed this route had a cruel, cruel heart". The nice thing was that the route took us off the beaten track and through several small N.H. villages. There may have been a couple of hills in that part of the state that Mike didn't manage to get in but not many. Up, down, up down and until finally at mile 79 we reached the motel in Manchester. I thought I was completely ridden out but when John told me there was a Dairy Queen and when I remembered that my days of eating ice cream were coming to an end, I managed a little extra riding .

That evening was our final banquet and a riotous time was had by all. The group has been together many hours a day for many days and managed to find a lot of laughs in our shared feat of endurance. Everyone got an award-- for me and John it was "couple who arrived furthest apart". In Mike's speech he "honored" me by saying that if he had seen ten people on the street and had to choose which one could ride a bicycle across the country it sure would not have been Dereka! One more day to the beach!

Day 48: Latham, NY to Brattleboro, Vermont

Before I met John I lived in Troy and worked at Russell Sage College-- that was 1974-1979. Nothing about the area was familiar to me as I rode in and I began to doubt my memory but a few miles out of the motel in Latham we turned onto 19th Street in Watervliet and everything clicked into place. Ahead of me I could see the bridge across the Hudson and the buildings of Troy. I was riding with Nan who swooped over onto the sidewalk to get across the river and that turned out to be a great move. The sidewalk funneled us away from the tunnel that goes under the Russell Sage campus and I knew exactly where to turn to make a nostalgic side trip past my old apartment on Second Street and get us back on route uphill out of the city.

We followed Route 2 east, a route I drove many times while I was living in the area. At mile 12.6, however, we were routed on to Route 278, a gorgeous road with less traffic and one I had never taken. The riding was splendid and even though I knew I was not yet in Vermont, it sure felt like Vermont to me. At mile 32 we turned east on Route 7 toward the Vermont line and Bennington. Then followed the challenge of the day-- a ten mile climb. I felt great and found the climb very doable. We were rewarded with a great descent into Wilmington-- fast but not frightening. John waited for me there so we had a coffee and pastry break and started climbing again up Hogback Mountain.

The first time I ever went downhill skiing was at Hogback-- I was a teenager and did not know how to ski and it was something of a disaster; the kind you laugh about even at the time. The ski place is no more-- crumbling buildings overgrown with vegetation and the remains of an old lift sagging against the hillside. Made me realize that many many years have passed! From the top we had a "100 mile view" before more fun and fast downhill into Brattleboro.

In Brattleboro we were delighted to meet up with our daughter Eliza and her husband Michael, my stepmother Babs, my niece Viney and her husband Francisco, my old high school friend Don Sluter and a genealogy pal Joann Nichols. We all had dinner together and you will understand why my blog has not appeared until four days later.

This sign gave us a laugh

Day 47: Little Falls to Latham, New York

After my somewhat ho hum reaction to yesterday's ride I was thrilled to find myself in bicycle fantasy land today. The humidity broke and the morning was lovely. We left Little Falls on Route 5S East and climbed for some time to a ridge that afforded lovely views north into the Mohawk River Valley. While the climbing was demanding, the scenic reward was bountiful and the descent lots of fun-- fast but not scary. I spent the whole ride thinking that east or west, east is best (and simultaneously remembering that nearly everyone thinks their homeland is superior to all others). Just miles and miles of lovely green, pastoral landscape-- also an immense Target warehouse in Amsterdam and the massive G.E. campus in Schenectady with rolling lawns and manicured loveliness. Then as the icing on the cake, we were routed on to a bike path at mile 49 and rode it until mile 71. Just three miles of the real world and we were at the hotel-- nice and early about 2:00.

Day 46: Liverpool to Little Falls, New York

One of the frequent debates among riders is whether it is better to be hot or wet. Most prefer hot but I definitely prefer wet. Today we had the opportunity to be both.

Heavy rain started at about mile 11 and lasted until mile 45-- more than two hours for most of us. Once it stopped, the route turned into a long steamy sauna that lasted until we hit Little Falls at mile 78.

Not much else to say about the ride. I was reminded of a teeshirt that read: Eat, Sleep, Pedal, Repeat. The lack of much to look at set me to reflecting on why I did the ride and why anyone does the ride. We haven't seen spectacular scenery since South Dakota and that was a long way back. We haven't had particularly interesting rides since Minnesota and Wisconsin and they seem a long way back as well. It seems to come down to physical challenge and the satisfaction of having ridden from Point A to Point B.

In the meantime most of us have fallen in love with the group. Think how seldom it is that one spends 50 days with 50 strangers engaged in a common enterprise. We look forward to the ride being over but are sad on that account as well.

Day 45: Henrietta to Liverpool, NY

A long hot humid day with redeeming features -- the best of these being twenty miles on the Erie Canal bike path. It was still cool when we started there at mile 6 and it was an idyllic ride through a couple of canalside villages and along the shady path beside the water.

From the canal we were routed on to Route 31, a state highway with a fair amount of traffic but a very smooth and wide shoulder, excellent for biking. We rode 54 miles on this road-- a very long way in my mind because I am happier with lots of twists and turns-- but we had a tailwind much of the time and the miles passed as they always seem to. John and I had a nice lunch in Weedsport and were refreshed for the last 25 miles of the ride. Our leisurely break made us the last to arrive at the hotel but only by a very few minutes. In any case, we rode the whole 95 miles in a bit more than seven hours.

The lovely treat at the end of the day was the arrival of sister Tamar who altered her route from Pittsburgh to Vermont to include a stop in Liverpool. She had dinner with us and will stay here in the hotel tonight.

Day 44: Niagara Falls to Henrietta, New York

The picture is actually from two days ago when we crossed the Rainbow Bridge into the U.S. We had our sixth and last rest day in Niagara Falls. As I mentioned before, John was sensible and avoided the touristy stuff. Believing that it was my first and last trip to NF, I decided that I ought to have a part in the madness.

Luckily, along with another rider, I went early to board the Maid of the Mist and was able to get on without a long wait and without being packed in as tightly as one is on the later boats. The falls are astonishingly marvelous and riding on the "Maid" was a thrilling experience-- right up into the madly churning water and clouds of spray. The other two things we did-- all three requiring the uniquely awful NF disposable raincoats, aren't worth spending keystrokes on, but I was glad I did them (once!)

In my last post I voiced the hope that New York would be more varied and interesting than the terrain we have been riding and sadly that was not the case today. We spent about ten miles getting out of industrial sprawl. After that things got a bit better but it says something about the ride that I took not one picture. It was very humid and I rode fast-- mostly with John. He had a flat at mile 77 and I stood by to be supportive while he changed the tire. At mile 80 we stopped at McDonalds where I had an inedible chicken wrap and he had a barely edible chicken sandwich and we vowed never to go there again. Almost immediately after that stop we missed the right hand turn to the motel-- rode up a long hill, down the other side, realized that something was wrong and had to ride back up and down the hill again and finally, at mile 85, reached our home for the night, Motel 8.

Day 42: Brantford, Ontario to Niagara Falls, NY

High jinks on the road today. It was a great ride-- actually it was like two wonderful pieces of homemade bread with a thin layer of something dull like lard in the middle but it is the good parts that I will remember.

I started out riding with Nan (she took this picture) and I immediately fixed my bike computer so that I could see only mph, not mileage. I can always tell about where I am by the cue sheet but that is not like watching miles crawl by on the odometer. Nan is a great talker and I have been known to say a thing or two myself, so the road flew by underneath us. We did turn into the wind at about mile 31 and rode 18 miles on a road with narrow shoulder and high traffic but at mile 50 we were off that and things got much nicer.

After days and days of what I yesterday called sorn and coybeans, and days and days of "checkerboard" riding (turn right, turn left, turn right, turn left), it is just possible that we have left that behind. Suddenly we were in New England type terrain-- uphills, downhills, shaded parts of the road, curves. Just lovely. It lasted a only a few miles before we had to begin beating our way through heavy traffic into Niagara Falls, but it was enough to give me hope that we will see more such riding in New York.

Niagara Falls is a strange and marvelous contrast of gorgeous and ghastly. The falls themselves are breathtaking-- I was reminded of my first looking at the Grand Canyon. The area around the falls, both sides, is a hideous howling nightmare of buildings, roads, traffic and tourists. We looked down at the people packed on "The Maid of the Mist" and John decided that he could give it a miss but I am going to go with some of the other riders and do all the tourist things.

Day 41: London to Brantford, Ontario

A different crop than we have been seeing-- tobacco! Also lots and lots of ginseng.

My watchword for the ride today was serenity. The weather was cool and cloudy, the ride 66 miles. We had a late load at 8:30, giving us the chance to sleep until 6:00-- they do this when the ride is short because otherwise the fast riders get to the new hotel way before the rooms are ready.

My resolution to be serene was tested slightly when we had a 2.5 mile detour but I managed to keep a grip on myself by changing the bike computer to something other than mileage and just navigating by the cue sheet.

What we have seen in two days of riding through Ontario-- all farming country-- appears to be a thriving economy. We have seen not one instance of the kind of rural poverty we see so much of in Maine-- and saw everywhere when we were in North Carolina earlier this year. Every farm is beautifully maintained and neat, neat, neat. The houses and lawns are all manicured to the nth degree. Whereas "pre-manufactured" homes were everywhere in the American west, there are none in this part of Ontario.

Brantford is a depressed community, however. When we biked in to town we saw that a major demolition project was underway with gigantic heaps of rubble lining the street. Googling, I learned that the city expropriated 41 pre-1870 buildings on the south side of the main street, threw out all of the tenants, and is now in the process of demolition. There is no plan for what will replace the buildings. Lots of controversy about this "renewal" project.

Met John late in the ride and had a nice lunch-- with less than ten miles left to the hotel. Altogether a pleasant and uneventful ride.

Day 40: Port Huron, MI to London, ONT, Canada

This bike ride reminded me of one definition of marriage: a long dull meal with dessert at the beginning.

All excited and mildly nervous, we started the day by massing just outside the entrance to the Bluewater Bridge between the U.S. and Canada. Traffic across the bridge was stopped and we were escorted across as a group. Eerily quiet with no other traffic pounding by, we climbed up one side and sailed down the other-- riding in a group for the first time.

At Canadian Customs the official talked to Mike, then simply asked the group if we had any weapons. Upon our chorused "no", he said "Welcome to Canada" and we rode on through. Perhaps one minute, max. One of our Canadian riders then led us on a little tour through the parks of Sarnia and to a viewpoint under the bridge-- all of us bright and cheerful.

This little gadabout took us off the cue sheet, however, and as we worked our way back to the official route we encountered two detours around road construction. Adrift in a long stream of bikes without the comfort of the cue sheet markers and watching the mileage pile up, I began to feel decidedly less bouncy. The nagging disquiet turned to pure discouragement when we finally got back on track and I realized we were 7.5 miles ahead of the cues. That shouldn't seem like much, especially as we have ridden nearly 3000 miles, but on an 80 mile day it seemed like more than I could bear. The road "Churchill Line" was straight as an arrow, high traffic, almost no shoulder and back in the ubiquitous corn and beans. Uggghhhhh! And not even any roadkill to count. I pondered-- are there fewer animals? smarter animals? kinder drivers? Or is just that someone picks up the carcasses?

Eventually we got off the high traffic road and onto some smaller and nicer ones and I began to count my blessings instead of cursing the mileage. The road conditions were good, the winds mostly helpful and the temperature pleasant. We had a good lunch with ice cream in the town of Delaware and with about 20 miles left to ride I pedaled into London with a happy heart.

Day 39: Birch Run to Port Huron, Michigan

Although I had a fitful sleep last night, it was a very good day's ride. It was just under 90 miles and I made it to the hotel by 2:20. I had a bit of a head start because I left before luggage load and John saw that my bags got onto the truck. I was at mile 12.17 before the first rider caught up with me.

The humidity was low today and I belatedly realized how awful yesterday was in contrast. Clear skies and pleasant winds contributed a lot to the ride. Both John and I agree, however, that the part of Michigan we have ridden through is the least interesting terrain we have encountered. The far west was very scenic, the high desert was exotic and all new, the wheat fields of South Dakota more beautiful than expected and Minnesota and Wisconsin both lovely. Michigan, not so much. I call the picture above "Life Among the Soybeans".

I was reduced to counting road kill twice today. On one 13 mile leg I counted 36 corpses and although I haven't actually counted previously, it is certain that we have passed hundreds of dead animals including snakes, raccoons, skunks, squirrels, turtles, deer, mice, possum, etc. I have been surprised by the number of dead birds on the road ever since we left Astoria. I don't recall birds being killed with such frequency in New England.

One thing that didn't surprise me is the number of gloves along the roadside. There has not been a single day that I did not see five or more gloves and this was true when we went to Florida in 2009 and North Carolina this year. One can only surmise that they are forgotten on car hoods and roofs until swept off by the wind.

Day 38:Mt. Pleasant to Birch Run, Michigan

Despite my long sleep, I started the day in a foul temper. I didn't want to see one more moldering roadkill carcass or feedlot cow or field of corn, and I was knee deep in all of those things. Fortunately John, knowing that I was out of sorts, found a nice bakery in Alma and waited there for me. I couldn't face food but had a cranberry juice and an iced coffee and felt a bit better.

Off we started again and soon came across Ian, another one of the slower riders. I am always happy to see Ian because my reputation as "the little engine that could" and the "energizer bunny", means that I cannot complain, bitch or whine publicly. Ian knows the truth, however, and being able to complain cheers me up. So we rode the rest of the relatively short day together and got in to the motel at 2:30 with smiles on our faces.

John has just read in the paper that a "possibly" record size hailstone fell in South Dakota last Friday. It was 8 inches in diameter. Glad we missed that one!

Day 37: Ludington, Wisconsin to Mt. Pleasant, Michigan

I wish I could say that 115 miles flew by but it surely did not. You say 115 miles? I thought it was 113?? One of the hard truths I have learned is that the mileage is almost always longer than the official total. When the route sheet is being made, the person riding (or driving) the route resets their odometer at every turn. Each time this is done they lose a few hundredths of a mile. Ergo, we gain mileage in tiny amounts at every turn. Some rides early in the trip were all on one road-- no turns. Yesterday we had 28 turns in the route and gained at every one of them.

An idiosyncrasy of the area yesterday-- we rode on "14 Mile Road", then "12 Mile Road", then "19 Mile Road", then another "14 Mile Road". All different roads in different towns. All seemed long and tedious. The saving grace of the ride is that we had ice cream in Lake Isabella at mile 98. Then, possibly seeing that I was nearing the end of my rope, a very nice rider named Mark rode the last miles to the motel with me and kept me entertained with slightly risque jokes.

I have been having problems with my hands so bought new gloves in Ludington-- these served only to make matters much worse. The long ride together with the time change (yes! we are now back in Eastern time), the heat and the gloves reduced me to a quivering pulp. We had yet another dreadful buffet dinner (bad food and plenty of it!) and I was curled up in bed with ice on my hands at 6:15. I struggled to stay awake and lasted 15 minutes, then slept for the next 12 hours! I think the accumulated wear and tear is getting to me. This morning other people have had to do the following things for me-- open a bottle of juice, peel a banana and tear open a sugar packet. There is no strength left in my fingers-- I can still (barely) initial by my name (we have to do it at most meals and at all SAG stops) but I cannot write my full name at all. As John said a few days ago "this incessant bicycling has to stop". Fortunately I can use the keyboard and shift the bike.

On the bright side: I have done the last of seven 100+ mile rides and don't expect ever to do another. The longest ride we have left is officially 93 miles.

Day 35: Fond du Lac to Manitowoc, Wisconsin

A gorgeous day for bicycling. We started out riding through the Lakeside Park in Fond du Lac, a city on Lake Winnebago. Then a couple of miles on a bike path-- lots of wild flowers. At about mile five we started a moderate climb to the town of St. Peter and were up on a ridge where traditional dairy farms and wind farms dominated the landscape. There were dozens of windmills. To me they are beautiful things-- all twirling away gracefully-- but I understand that people who live near them have real concerns, particularly about the noise they create at night.

The ride was reasonably short-- 58 miles (I neglected to note that we rode 85 miles yesterday). John took the first shower and I was serenely ridding myself of sunscreen, bike grease and general dirt in my shower, when the front desk called and offered an immediate shuttle to the laundromat. Thus John hustled off while I got to relax and do nothing.

Our hotel is what Mike Munk describes as "out on the concrete" and although there are stores of almost all descriptions there is none where I can find a new book to read. Glumly contemplating whether to do yet another sudoku puzzle, I fell asleep at 7:00 and slept until 6:00 this morning. Very little riding today because of the ferry ride across Lake Michigan so we will have a nice slow morning and I am hopeful that I can find a book before we get on the ship at noon. It is the S.S. Badger and we are told that it is huge-- can carry 200 vehicles.

Day 34: Wisconsin Dells to Fond du Lac, Wisconsin

Today we have a special treat; a guest blogger-- Mr. John Langhans!

We woke up to rain beating on our window but by the time we were dressed and out the door it stopped. The ride was from Wisconsin Dells to Fond du Lac. It was relatively cool (high about 80) and the scenery was beautiful. Much of the ride was on secondary roads with rolling hills and farms. At mile 45 in the town of Princeton the American Legion had a bratfest and I stopped and ate a bratwurst with sauerkraut. We rode on a bike path for 7 miles to the outskirts of Fond du Lac and the rode 3 miles into the center of town to our hotel - and old fashioned 7 story hotel.

Back to the original blogger, Dereka. John, as usual, has focused on the food, but I also thought it was a lovely ride. Who knew that Minnesota and Wisconsin were such nice states? I am thoroughly indoctrinated with the idea that Vermont and Maine are the only truly beautiful states in the country but this trip is changing that idea a bit. (The West was gorgeous but not liveable-- I could see myself in Wisconsin). There was still a few remnants of corn and soybeans but also some nice dairy farms-- including ones that were signposted "BGH Free Farms" and I was pleased to see cows wandering in green grassy fields and not destined for the slaughterhouse. As a newly minted vegetarian I had to forgo the bratwurst but I had a truly splendid ear of sweet corn and some decent potato salad and the people at the American Legion were excited-- "this is the first vegetarian meal we have ever served!".

We had our second SAG in the town of Ripon-- "birthplace of the Republican Party" but we were interested in it more because our dear friends attended Ripon College. Not that we could actually see the campus-- as always on this trip there was no time for sidetrips--but we did see the Ripon College sign.

Both John and I choose the bike path option over the busy state highway 23 and we were glad we did. The picture shows you what it was like-- simply dirt with a grass center but it was charming and quiet-- except for the thrill and trill of birdsong. This was one ride where the last few miles were as pleasant as the first few. I was sorry for the ride to end.

Day 33: La Crosse to Wisconsin Dells, Wisconsin

Today was all about the Elroy Sparta Trail, said to be one of first rail to trail conversions in the U.S. We picked it up at mile 27 and rode the whole length, ending at mile 61. There are three tunnels on the route-- all pitch black. The first one is about 3/4 mile long and the next two a bit shorter. We had to walk the bikes and use flashlights to guide our way. The picture was taken from inside the first tunnel as we were going out.

The road surface was dirt but reasonably well packed and although our pace was somewhat slowed the trail was beautiful and enjoyable. I was still a bit cranky about the added distance but we had a good lunch midway along and things were perking up. In the restaurant we met Mike Munk, the "big boss" on the staff and he told us we were the "back end" but it looked like that wasn't bothering us. I told him that I was rebelling and he asked "against what?" I said I was sick of rushing every day and he gave me a quizzical look and said "You've been rushing?" We both got a good laugh out of that.

A friend asked me what I think about along the ride. So many things go through my mind that I can never think later what they were. This afternoon was different. I didn't want to stay long at the second SAG. John was going to the bathroom so I said that I would get going and he could catch up with me. I rode a mile or two and expected him at any moment but he did not appear. I rode five miles, ten miles, fifteen miles-- no John. At every turn I was looking back and expecting to see him. My imagination began to work. He had had a heart attack in the bathroom, he had taken a wrong turn, a sting he had gotten earlier in the day had put him into shock, he had fallen. Why hadn't the white van passed me? Surely it was because they were dealing with John's medical emergency. Should I go back? That made no sense. I rode on, the various scenarios playing out in my mind. Finally, at the 25th mile past the SAG, there he was alive and well. Where had he been? He just hung around the SAG eating and drinking. Arrrggghhhh!

Day 32: Rochester to La Crosse Wisconsin

The day started on the dark side with bucketing rain and high winds. I was drenched through within minutes-- gloves and shoes squelching away as I rode. The weather improved about mile 28 and we had a really lovely ride along Route 30 East-- still corn and soybeans but the land had become more intricately contoured-- more climbing, of course, but nice vistas.

At mile 53 we picked up a piece of the Root River bike trail and stayed on it for about 13 miles. A really nice trail and a relief not to be constantly thinking about car traffic. It did start to rain again but rather pleasantly. Sadly, when we got back to regular roads we were facing a bad climb. It had all the elements I hate-- very steep, very long (one mile), pretty late into the ride (mile 72) and suddenly very hot and humid. Thinking-- too old, too fat, too steep, too hot, too tired I alternately rode and walked until I managed to get to the top. The climb had a great reward, however. We then rode along a beautiful ridge road and had a wonderful long descent down to the Wisconsin state line and soon after that, the Mississippi River.

Several people sagged today or took bumps-- we are getting tired having done 290 miles in three days. Now, it turns out that the tomorrow's ride-- billed as 75 miles-- is actually 90. I am pretty annoyed as are others. I suppose my attitude will be more positive in the morning. We lost another rider today-- the woman who was the faster even than the thoroughbreds-- she is leaving for medical reasons and says she hopes to join us again in a few days.

That glowing look of health after an invigorating ride...

plus an interesting example of helmet hair.