"Thanks for sticking by me through all this shit, man. I appreciate it."

The blaring horn of the train made its way fhrough my ear plugs and woke me up around 5:00 and then 6:30. The latter got me moving out of bed.

It was a smooth fifteen mile ride into the town of Winona, population 30,000. 

Josh and I met up at a Hardees even though we had our eyes set on something "nicer." Nonetheless, we laid around there soaking in our own saturated fats waiting for our phones to charge. Two hours later, we picked our asses up and got into gear.

It wasn't long out of Winona that we both began experiencing problems, and no... it wasn't the Hardees wreaking havoc on our bodies. Our bikes were falling apart.

Ten miles out, Josh gets a flat. I roll up to him, lend him some sympathy and get rolling again. No more than thirty feet away from him, my bike begins bumping up and down like my back tire is a trampoline. Guess who got a flat at the exact same moment? Yeah.

We both began the long road to repairing our back tires: taking off all of our gear, flipping the bikes upside down, unscrewing the tire from the frame, deflating the tube, taking the tube out, ect.

As we began, two different men using two different modes of transportation appeared. Keith, riding his bicycle from New York (being driven across Michigan) and Bob, day-time van driver, and occasional biker. Bob stopped briefly to see if we needed anything. At the time, I said no but about twenty minutes after he left, I wish I'd known the problem. 

Keith wore all black everything, from his bike to his clothes. Somewhat of an introvert and alone, he talked about his ride. Apparently, he'd been out a week in Minnesota with a sprained knee from a crash he sustained awhile ago. I couldn't help noticing how thin he was and wondered if we looked exactly the same, if not worse.

Keith went onward.

Josh and I stayed backward.

Turns out, it was a godsend for both of us that we got flats at the same time. Josh learned his pump was broken thus requiring mine. My spare tubes were the wrong type (thank you hometown bike shop :() so I relied upon Josh's last two patches. My tire leaked air twice after putting it back on the rim. I cursed everything but Josh remained by my side, and optimistic despite the heat and my frustration.

I realized something critical checking my tire for holes. My tire didn't hit anything that caused the tube to leak. My tire was literally coming apart, causing the fibers it's made up of to stab the tube. I prayed the final seal would make it the last twenty five miles to Wabasha. I made it ten more miles.

Again, Josh stuck by my side while I grappled with the problems of my back tire. We found a small patch of shade around the highway, behind a box next to the railway tracks.

There were no patches left and I had the same tear from earlier. I used the leftover glue, covered it with duct tape, and then used the classic bike trick of placing a folded dollar over it. No dice. We were out of options.

"You boys got everything you need over there?" came a voice from a truck on the train tracks.

Josh and I looked at each other. We shrugged. We both yelled back, "Ah, uh, not really."

The truck appeared to pull away but it was only getting off the tracks.

Joe. Blue-eyed, athletic, around fifty years old. He gave us a ride fifteen miles to town when there were no options left. His wife, Stephanie, was spending more than a year in Switzerland as a raw chef.

"She told me, 'Ya know, they could use a handy man out here,'" Joe told us. "So I spent the better part of a year with her out there. Just got back about a month ago. I learned so much about raw foods that I was able to teach some classes too."

Joe was an adventurer. He was retired and with so much time on his own, he liked to have his "poof pauses": fits of time where he just dissapeared. Next up on his agenda was a trip into Arizona.

Joe dropped us off in Wabash next to the local bicycle shop where David sat outside, awaiting our arrival. We called him back on the road in our panic. He offered to pick us up too but not until the shop closed around 6pm. He got to work on our bikes.

I tried to get a good picture of the legenday David but in my attempt of the photo to remain secret, it came out blurry. A wonderful aroma of flowers and perfume puffed out of his pipe when we arrived. 

"We'll deal with the bike hardest hit first. Come on in, guys," he said with a moderate Minnesota accent. We've seen our fair share this evening.

David talked a lot about his fiance and his two chihuahuas; Maybelline and Rufus. The man was sharp, funny, and very easy to get along with. He made it his primary goal of the evening to ensure our bikes were ready for the next half of our tour. So much so that he worked over an hour past closing time to change our tires and get us new chains. The price was reasonable and David was more than respectful. Everything worked out.

We're back in a local park tonight. We called the local police and they were more than cool with allowing us to be the foreign vagabonds for the evening. We should try this more often. 

"What about the train tracks?"

Josh and I are in an old, abandoned looking campground for cyclists, which I've never even heard of before tonight. It doesn't look like anyone's been back here for millenia, which probably describes why I've never seen one before; it doesn't appear to get much business. The campground is nestled around fifty feet from the highway and just beyond the railway. At the moment, I can hear two trains stampeding their way down the steel tracks. Just underneath the rumbling, a tractor trailer rustles beneath the cacophony of industry.

And suddenly, it's quiet and the only noise I hear is the dying embers of our campfire and a few crickets playing their instruments.

Beginning with yesterday's lack of pictures, I figured I'd throw them in here today. First, one of the hiking trail views from Effigy National Monument. 

A few miles down from the beautiful town of Lansing was this gigantic power plant. No more than a mile down the road from this, a large amount of houses along the Mississippi. I dunno about you but I don't know how comfortable I'd feel in the water next to this factory.

Josh was the first one out of the campground this morning as I struggled and failed to dry my clothes from the evening's downpour. I finally left and down the road from the campground, I witnessed a peculiar happening. A type of work truck, one of the giant guys that carries huge loads of dirt, was rolling down main street. However, the bed was open; rocks and dirt sprayed all over the asphalt, leaving a trail of shit a mile long back to his work place. Cars zig-zagged around the hazards, avoiding the materials. At first, I wondered if it was on purpose but the giant rocks couldn't have been meant to be strewn all over the road. It was strange.

So, I forgot to mention yesterday but this area of Iowa/Minnesota is known as the "Driftless Area". This area of the midwest was untouched by the glaciation of the last Ice Age. From above, the geography is deeply carved by the Mississippi River and its tributaries. And from here, Josh and I have biked up and down with sometimes thousand foot bluffs of sandstone rising above us. 

I met up with Josh shortly before the border of Minnesota in the town of New Albin, Iowa. This town had over twenty state championships for baseball! However, I was surprised to find none of that ever translated over to any Major League talent. Anyway, we entered Minnesota, our second state in two days.

On the sign along the border was some interesting information on the United States. All of the land we own, we got in the 19th century. But, the best deal we made, albeit one of the only deals we really made for any of the land, was the Louisiana Purchase in 1803. Napoleon Bonaparte owned New Orleans (sort of, he vocally claimed it from Spain) and they shut out international trade. An upset Thomas Jefferson sent delegates to acquire the important port along the Mississippi River for no more than $10 million. However, Napoleon, in a war with Britain and a revolt in Haiti, needed cash. He offered up almost a quarter of the present-day United States for $15 million. The delegates, without Jefferson's permission, quickly accepted and arguably made the greatest real estate deal in world history.

Hours later, I rendezvoused with Josh at a Subway in the town of La Crescent, MI. Across the river in La Crosse, WI, was a cool museum but we were tired and the camping site was a short ten miles away. Good thing we left ourselves some extra time.

By the time we left Subway around 4:30, traffic was getting a bit more intense on the highway we had to take. As soon as we got on the highway, my bike started bouncing with every pedal push. The back tire was going flat, my first one. 

Josh was pleased; he's had four and I've given him shit for it. I finally got mine. After almost half an hour, I finally finished the tire and gave Josh a call. Instead, I saw him approaching me, backtracking from where he'd come a good amount of time ago.

"Uh oh," I said giving him a look, "What's the trouble?"

"There's a ton of construction up ahead. I made it pretty far but one of the workers finally stopped me and said I couldn't go any further. There was no more road to go," Josh told me.

Now, being stubborn, this didn't sit well with me. There had to be a way. The alternate route took us way up the bluffs in a wavy formation and that wasn't even guranteed to take us past the construction. Our map route was another option but that added twenty miles.

After a long time, I said, "Ahh, let's just check it out or ask."

The first construction worker wore a weathered face with long wavy blonde hair. Probably in his early forties, he looked much older but he was a kind man.

"It's possible. I saw a rider going through yesterday but I thought it was... kinda stupid. It's dangerous up there with the funnel of traffic," he reported, looking concerned. 

A pause of silence.

"What about the railroad tracks?"

There were "No Entry" signs blocking access but just before a half-complete bridge, next to a man in a bulldozer, we slipped onto the tracks next to an idle train. 

None of the workers along the tracks said anything, no doubt ready to go home for the night. We walked our bicycles along the tracks, bouncing all along. It seemed to go on forever. We kept our ears and eyes aware for an oncoming train.

Finally, after close to an hour bumping along, I noticed the shrubbery running up the sides of the railroad had a brief blank spot. Where the plants should have continued, there was a bare spot. I hoped it was a road but I wasn't sure if running through all the thorns and plants was worth being wrong. I trucked my bike up the embankment anyway. 

"There's a road here!" I yelled to Josh.

"Really?"

"Yeah! A secret road!" I was ecstatic.

Josh ran through the brush as well and we both got some pretty nice bleeders. A few miles down the road, a barricade of construction materials blocked our path. The road blocks were strung together with chicken wire.

"To hell with this!" Josh yelled. "We've come too far! I'm cuttin through the chicken wire!" And just like in a movie, Josh got his pliers, clipped the wire and shoved the barricade down. We rolled onward.

Down the road in the town of Dakota, a car pulled alongside me.

It was the construction worker from earlier.

"So you guys made it alright?" He asked.

"We took the train tracks. A bit of a rocky path but we made it."

He chuckled. "Hey, that's good to hear. You boys be careful now. Good luck on your trip."

"Thanks man!"

Josh waved as he drove on and I pointed at the vehicle trying to tell Josh with my body language that the inhabitant of the car was important. He got the message.

We finally made it to the Cyclist's Only Campground, and quickly made a fire.

After a dinner of beans and peaches, it's time for rest. 

"I dunno, man. I'm just gonna go get hit by a car."

Today, we finally got back on route. We crossed over the Mississippi River (dividing Wisconsin from Iowa) and entered yet another state.

Yesterday, we woke up around 5am and meandered our way into the town of Prairie Du Chien, which today's National Park Ranger pronounced in effortless French. From Prairie Du Chien, we crossed into Marquette, Iowa where we snapped a self-timed picture of us climbing the state sign.

Using our maps for the first time in a long time, we traveled north along the Mississippi River to the Effigy Mounds National Monument.

Originally, the area was proposed to the new National Park Service. It was described as some of the most beautiful terrain on the Mississippi River. However, in the early 19th century when surveyors were sent to inqure the park proposition, they discovered prehistoric Native American mounds; many for burial purposes, usually interred with tools or other animals. For example, one mound held the remains of a Native American clutching the bones of a bird. A man by the name of Ellison Orr mapped, surveyed, and came to be the sole individual responsible for the National Monument becoming recognized in 1949. Josh and I visited the museum, watched a short film, made friends with the park rangers, and went on a hike.

We had a peanut butter and jelly lunch. Josh sang blues songs all day while I momentarily played the top of my peanut butter jar and sang country songs with a southern twang. A woman passing by complimented me on setting the mood... Awesome.

We left the park late in the afternoon, planning to go around forty miles to the town of Brownsville. We were on 76 for about 10 miles and then on 364 for a solid 20 miles. Well, 30 miles later and several failed phone calls to Josh, we finally got in touch with one another.

"Yao, I'm in Lansing, where are you?" I asked, lapping a chocolate ice cream cone.

"I'm on 76," Josh said rather unsurely. 

"You're still on 76?! Ah shit, dude. Where are you? What towns have you been through?" I asked, realizing the situation.

"I haven't seen any towns!" yelled Josh.

"Dude... You're far off route. You were supposed to turn off on 364 awhile ago," I said.

"I know! It hasn't felt right... I'm almost at Waukon," he said, tone growing quiet, the uneasiness sinking in. "What should I do?"

Well, luckily Josh was only (still far) 15 miles off route and it wasn't a death sentence. Nonetheless, he had a mentally difficult day while I just kinda... went to a museum and ate ice cream. I cooked the boy rice for dinner and gave him some oranges. He's aight. It's always good being reunited in the evenings. 

So, we're in Lansing get absolutely pounded by rain. My phone connection is also very limited and I can't post pictures on here. I'll try to send more tomorrow. G'night.

"I Love You But I Fucking Hate You"

"You can say what you want! But you ain't no Stone Cold Steve Austin!"

I kid you not, this was the screaming that woke Josh up at 3am. I fell asleep around 1am after the last country band played at Wolf Creek Campground. 

Josh woke up again around 5am to a wild pack of family dogs. I slumbered until the 7am sun began to turn my tent into a sweatbox. I feared it was late afternoon but it was only a little early morning alarm.

Josh and I had our usual quarrel over whether to eat breakfast or make our own. The local diner won me over. Good God am I glad I went. $7 buffet. We cleaned them out. 

2 helpings of eggs, 2 helpings of sausage gravy, 3 pieces of toast, 5 links of sausage, 3 pancakes, 2 cinnabons, 4 pieces of bacon, and 1 coffee. That's basically all I had to eat today and I'm not hungry.

When I came out of the bathroom at the campground, Josh had vanished. I searched all over town before coming to the conclusion he'd gone west on WI-11. He knew we were on it for twenty two miles. 

We met at the ninth mile of the journey in the face of gale-force winds. Twenty mile-per-hour winds pushed against every turn of the wheel, bustling over the hills from the West. We took a zig-zag path north toward our destination of Marquette, Iowa; finally back on route since our departure from New York.

Well, that'll happen tomorrow.

The wind kicked our ass today but we made it to Platteville, WI. 

My favorite part of the day was the dog, Chance, from "Homeward Bound". He came bounding up to us from a house in the middle of all the farms. We've learned to stop our bikes if a dog comes after us. This girl was nervous for a minute but in no time, she was rolling on her back and getting her belly rubbed. Just as soon as she'd come, she went back on her lawn and allowed us to carry through her territory unharmed. 

Wisconsin is known for its cheese. It gets by on its cheese/dairy products and tourism, which I'm finding is a key revenue staple to almost all of the United States. Tourism... not cheese. There's plenty of hills out here as well and tons of farms. I've yelled and gawked at thousands of cows. Josh probably summarized Wisconsin best: "This all looks like the Microsoft Windows 98 screens."

Obviously, that's not all it is and I gotta do some more research about Wisconsin's history. But we'll be in Iowa tomorrow. 

Early morning.

Night all.

p.s. Gonna do something new where the title is a quote we heard from the day pr something Josh or I said. This one is my quote.

Hi

First and foremost, yeah, sorry I haven't exactly been really enthused about the prospect of keeping this thing up to date. In terms of writing and stuff, I'm in a rough patch. Frankly, I dunno if anybody really reads this and I lose at least two hours of sleep every night writing, which I actually do tend to enjoy. I believe its a healthy hobby. Recently though, not so much. I'm going to update this every so often but not as frequently.  

It's been a pretty eventful couple of days:

1. My buddy Coop and his roommate Daryl hosted Josh and I for THREE days. We were in Chi-Town for THREE days and it lived up to the hype.

2. Chicago has some of the coolest museums:

        A. National Museum of Science and Industry: By far the newest and most up-to-date of all the museums. This gigantic behemoth of information and activities captured the minds of both children and adults. The best exhibit was the "Science Behind Storms". The worst exhibit was the "Art of the Bicycle."

      B. Shedd Aquarium: Astounding place filled with Sea Lions, Penguins, frogs, hundred year old eels/turtles, you name it. After awhile though, I become one of the most people that wants to free all of the animals. Pictured below is the longest captivated animal in the world, "Grandpa", at over 80 years. 

      C. The Field Museum: Originally opened after Chicago's World Fair in the late 1800's, it still kicks ass. Tons and tons of taxidermy (dunno how to make this word past tense) animals, history, and modern exhibits. Stunning architecture as well.

      D. Planetarium: Learn about space and check out 3D movies on the universe. This place made my life feel so damn insignificant that I didn't even care about spilling ketchup on my pants... not that I really would anyway considering all the other nasty stuff on them. Below is an actual service module used by NASA to get astronauts home from space. The bottom of it was all burnt up an everything from re-entry into the atmosphere.

      E. Skyview at Willis Tower: Not a museum but it was included in our bargain museum pass. 103 floors to the top of the tallest building in North America. Comes equipped with an elevator that shoots you to the top in 30 seconds. Crazy.

3. Chicago bike paths are terrifying. I crashed into someone and got burns on my leg from scraping concrete. Bastard was wearing spandex.

4. Humans rule.

      A. Two nights ago, I was generously housed by Mark Logan's (of Court House, and father of my best friend, Derick) brother, Dean. A very friendly and bubbly gentleman, he resided in Barrington, IL with his wife Karen. Warmly greeted with a beer and snacks despite our late arrival. Conversation flowed, smiles followed and we got tucked into bed, figuratively. The night was wonderful. And in the morning, Karen made us a huge breakfast that came with her own homemade coffee cake. Good lord, I thought I died and went to heaven. 

      B. The next night, I was fending for a stealth camp spot along a bike trail when we finally opted for the least expensive camground around Roscoe, IL. Still $35, the lovely owner Robin illegally gave it to us for $20. We talked to her for hours and she gave us cucumbers. Later, her son Chad came over and brought beer. We talked and talked.

Sometimes, I feel like an ass for taking everyone's stuff. But then I remind myaelf to pay it forward when this is done. 

    C. Tonight, in the small town of Gratiot, WI, we found a cheap campground in the middle of a tiny music festival. Jen and her husband, Dan, insisted that we tent on their spot to save money. They also told us to use their electricity. They also gave us a beer and dinner... Is your faith in humanity restored yet? Ours is.

There's so many stories from all these people, I just don't have the time to share them all. Everyone's lives has so much going on. Every individual's life could have a movie based off of them. There's so much to learn and experience.

For probably our final request for mail from peoples, we selected Moorhead, MN. I'm afraid of selecting one in a big city because I had a nightmare of a time in Chicago attempting to pick something up. They lost it. Send us some mail at :

1. General Delivery
   Josh or Ralph Johnson
2. 119 5th St S, Moorhead, MN 56560
3. (218) 236-6003

   
   

A Day in Pictures

Coop! We had deep dish Chicago pizza at a renowned local place out here and enjoyed some brews over intimate conversation. I've known Coop all four years at Pitt and I heard he was out here in Chicago. He'a got a job with PNC Bank and making money. Far more difficult than the shit I'm doing, this kid (man) is working hard while staying in the same place. Something I haven't found the strength to do. Thank you Coop for housing us, my friend.

Bike path fresh out of Hammond.

Josh was on Tylenol and (feeling no pain) flew through the path with ease.

Stopping to take a picture of an extremely loud train that scared the shit out of me... one of the loudest "horns" I've ever heard.

Wolf Pond Bike Path just out of Hammond. Just across the pond was the sketchy South side of Chicago. Again, could see all the hype for it but it was nowhere near as bad as everyone says... Well... Not entirely true. There were 40 people murdered over this weekend in Chicago. Yeah... that's a lot for anywhere.

Soldier Field, where the Chicago Bears play. One of the most interesting architectural buildings I've ever seen.

Initially, I entered the Chicago Field Museum to see the prices. They closed in an hour and a half. I went outside to gather my bearings and the ticket salesman, Kendal, came outside smoking a cigarette.

"Listen, ya'll can come inside for the last hour and a half we're open," he said. "It's a cool exhibit to see."

Josh and I gawked at each other. We got in a $40 exhibit, free.

Humans.

Downtown Chicago.

Josh in front of Chicago.

We had a few beers on Coop's rooftop at his apartment. Awesome day.

It's 3am and I have to wake up at 7. We're doing everything here in Chi town. Till tomorrow.

Ride the Ups and Downs

We woke up around 9:30 to the smell of sausage being cooked outside. We were a little late for wake up but we slept grandly in the RV. 

After a generous helping of eggs, sausage, and orange juice, we were ready to roll on out. Kevin was going to join us for the ride out to Chesteron, which seemed further than I believe it was because of our leisurely pace. Kevin rode the laid-back styled recumbent, looking pretty cool in the process?

I dunno how long it was to Chesterton but it felt like a long time. The pace made my eyes heavy. Josh and I began rethinking Chicago. Not only had Mike worried us but last night, Kevin scared us too.

Josh asked the magic question, "So, how's riding through Chicago?"

Kevin looked at us stone-cold seriously and went, "Do not go to Chicago. Stay out of that place."

Silence for six seconds, Josh and I stunned.

Today, I texted my buddy Coop saying we were rethinking things. I also wrote a message to our friend Dave from London, Ontario about it. Both told us it was lovely bike riding, and to stay out of the South side. We've crafted a route that follows a bike route all of the way to my buddy Coop's house, so we're gravy. Can't let other people's fears be mine.

Along our 20 mile bike ride to Hammond, we met several people that reinvigorated our faith in humanity. Just past the town of Hobart... where the attractice hotel lobby lady Holly lives, we met Shawn, Maureen, Billy, and another Ralph! 

"Hey, you guys need help?" asked Shawn as he pulled up next to us on the bicycle path.

"We're looking for a motel in Hammond but we're not really sure how to get there," said Josh.

Hammond was one of the places Kevin warned us about. Although we're on the outskirts, it definitely hasn't lived up to its bad reputation so far. 

Shawn and Maureen told us we could follow them until the path split, one way heading north to our destination and the other heading south.

On the way, they told us about a man named Billy that's pretty famous on the path. He helped people with their bikes and basically made friendly conversation with anybody that stopped.

At the crossroads, Shaun and Maureen came with us north to see if Billy was there.

The burly figure was there, chatting with two other bikers by the names of Ralph and Debra. Billy was wearing skintight spandex, which wasn't fun for anyone else. However, the man was very generous, telling us stories and giving us a bike map. He told us where to go to get to Lakeshore, where my buddy Cooper lives. We only heard positive things about the ride through Chicago.

"Hey, you g-guys wanna just f-follow me n-north?" stammered Ralph. He had a slight stuttering problem but I thought about how hard it must've been to be succesful with it. Even though I knew nothing about it, I felt proud for Ralph.

Ralph was born in Puerto Rico but only lived there for six months before moving to the US. His father, also Ralph, was called back from the Korean War when his son was born. His platoon ended up being entirely wiped out. Ralph told us that his father always said that his birth saved him. Ralph currently worked real estate. The man took us down the trail we're taking tomorrow and showed us where the motels were.

And here we are in Hammond. Into Chicago along the shores of Lake Michigan tomorrow.

Anxiety (2tired4spelchek)

"Ralph! Good morning!" came a voice from outside my tent. 

I bolted upright in my sleeping bag. In a second, I was wide awake.

"Yo!" I yelled back. "I'm up, I'm up!"

"I'll be inside," Tim called back. "Bathroom is on your left. How'd you sleep?"

"Like a child," I responded.

It was 5:45 and I was wide awake.

Tim went to sleep immediately when he got to the house. We left a note on the windshield wiper of his car and were on our way. 

We rode on a two-lane highway for seven miles before we got to a relaxed, rich neighborhood on the way to New Buffalo. Nothing but sculpted caucasians and a few geezers, all friendly, of course. I rode through the gated communities and encountered a cool breeze rolling off of Lake Michigan. Soon enough, it came into full view.

Josh and I had planned on finding something to do and though the New Buffalo beach beckoned, we continued onward. A few miles up the road, we entered Indiana.

We took a long road along the shore of Lake Michigan with all of the lavish buildings. People clogged the streets with bright neon colors to warn motorists they meant business. We accidentally arrived to a beautiful park in Michigan City. We sat on a bench to eat and discuss where to go, what to do. And then... we fell asleep.

Exploring Michigan City, I found a Farmer's Market. Pulling over, I took a walk around the place, overwhelmed at everything. I noted a specific man with shaggy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes watching us curiously when we entered. I nodded. When I got back to my bike, he was talking to Josh.

"Yeah but where are you going to go?" he said, visibly anxious. Immediately, I felt anxious. "I... I just... there's no good ways to get Chicago. How you gonna get there?" He turned to me.

"We're gonna bike," I replied simply.

"Well, I know that. Chicago's a dangerous place though. You guys are in for some trouble. People shoot you over there for walking on the wrong turf. Do you watch the news?"

It sounds like you watch too much. 

The man was Mike. As generous as he was to us, giving us free food, and chatting us up, his anxiety weighed on me for the rest of the day, dampening my mood. His family was wonderful. Talking to his kids allowed me to shake my disliking of the man and his wife was very kind. At first, I think she thought we were vagrants but after we offered to help clean up and she realized we had manners, things were cool.

A funny thing happened later in the day when Josh and I decided to spend the day at the beach...

We made a wrong turn and went to turn around down a road. A car had just left this road and an automatic gate was closing. Jokingly we went riding toward it yelling like it was a movie where the action hero just makes it in. The only thing was... Josh actually went in and got locked in. He had to get the keypad number from a guy playing tennis to leave.

So we got a WarmShowers host by the name of Kevin this evening, swell guy. A true adventurist, he was telling Josh and I about all the places he's been. As I can relate, he can't stay in one place.

"You guys know what a recumbent is, right?" Kevin asked us.

Josh and I looked at each other.

"No."

"Your kidding me. Come with me," he said.

Out in the garage was a bicycle that looked like a certified Laz-Boy with wheels. It had a bizarre... everything. Kevin let us ride it. We were like little schoolchildren flying around on the thing. It was hard not to fall over on.

Kevin lives with his wife and her daughter Julie who has autism. There's never a dull moment with her. We all ate watermelon together and shared stories for a few hours in the home. He had an RV out back that we're staying in for the night.

Too tired for spellcheck.

Cared For

Never finish the day with McDonalds and then start the next day with it again. I think that's what I learned today. I hated myself pedaling out of Cassopolis. 

However, the day wasn't bad. The ride was very peaceful and the farmland continued to stream on by.

There were four vehicles approaching rapidly from behind with another four on the opposite side. These are the sketchy moments where I move as far to the side of the pavement as possible. With no shoulder, things got a bit hairy.

One man with a trailer got too close for comfort while the other two vehicles zipped on past me. The last vehicle waited for the other cars to pass, an act that did not go unnoticed by me. As the "Frontier Cable" van passed by I gave a wave to the car in appreciation.

A mile or so down the road, I saw the same van pass me. It pulled over a bit down the road. A thin, bald man leapt out and waved me over. I stopped in front of the car on the side of the road.

"Are you the same guy from the road?" I asked, smiling, already pretty sure.

He smiled back, "Yeah, that's me. Hold on, I got something for you."

He pulled out a large orange Gatorade. 

"You gotta stay hydrated."

"Oh my god! Dude, thank you so much!" I gushed.

Jeff knew the rigors of bicycle touring. He'd done a short week in Germany where he said it was amazing. Some of the best cycling roads in the world with a lot of history to boot. Sounded like my kind of place. He was working with Frontier, saving up money and planning another week long ride through Germany. He told me there was a beach and brewery up the road. We shook hands and he left.

I waited for Josh in the town of Bridgman, eager to tell of the encounter. As Josh approached, he saw the Gatorade and said, "Oh, he got you one  too?"

As it turned out, I mentioned off-handedly  that my buddy, Josh, was a bit behind me. Wouldn't you know it, Jeff got another Gatorade and stopped Josh down the road. Josh said he came up and said, "You must be Ralph's friend." Gatorades for two and hearts replenished, we splurged on the town brewery.

At the brewery, we had a very laid back waiter by the name of Tim take care of us. A burly figure with long hair and a bushy beard, he seemed a bit shy but genuine. We kinda hit it off, trading jokes and getting a mutual respect/energy from one another. 

Toward the end of our meal, Josh and I began attempting to find campgrounds. Everything within fifteen miles was completely booked. We were in a bind.

I went outside to smoke a cigarette (sorry mom and dad, really I am) and Tim was doing the same. 

"Holy shit, when you guys said you biked here, I thought you meant motorcycles."

Tim was in the Navy for a few years, being sent to California and Washington. He loved Washington. "Everywhere you look, it could literally be printed on a postcard. You guys'll love it." He grew up in Bridgman and had returned after his time with the Navy. 

The manager came outside and told Tim he was needed.

Inside, we paid for the check and got ready to leave. Tim came up to us.

"Hey, if you guys want, you could totally camp in my backyard. But if you're going somewhere that's cool," he said.

Josh and I looked at each other. We were saved.

"We were just planning on sleeping on the beach! Tim! This is so clutch right now!" I yelled with excitement.

"This is what we live for. Just people saving us when we're in these positions. Thank you so much," Josh said.

Just down the road, Tim lead in his white Taurus to the house. 

"I have work until eleven but feel free to hangout," he said.

"Come here, man," I said moving toward him. "I gotta give you a hug."

The big man and I embraced. 

"I want one too," Josh said moving swiftly in from behind.

Tim went back to work and we set up tents while briefly meeting Tim's father

"Holy shit... that's a trip!" he told us.

He was driving Tim's brother, Tyler, to work.

Just down the road was Lake Michigan. Josh and I spent the rest of the day on the beach. Children laughed, the sun smiled, and the water waved silently. Silently being the key word. There are no waves on the lake as opposed to the constantly chattering waves of the ocean. There was a constant peace in the sand.

We just got back and Tim's still at work.

This is one of those days where the world is a beautiful place, I have no fear of anything, and I am filled with confidence at the magic inside of human beings.

Lots of love.

Crashing Into an Old Friend

I guess I was due.

Josh and I turned down onto the sketchy dirt road leading to Gabe's summer camp. At the same moment, the man himself called me on the phone.

"Yo, strangely enough, I literally just turned onto that dirt road," I said.

"Cool, I'm at the bottom of the road on a run. I'll see you in a minute, man!" Gabe replied.

Down we went, gaining speed on the downhill dirt. Suddenly, a small yellow outline came into view moving at a slow jog toward the bottom of the hill. When, I looked back down at the road, it was too late.

Over 5000 miles without any incident.

I guess I was due.

Josh said he was looking at Gabe when the commotion occurred behind him. Gabe moved his hand over his mouth in surprise.

"I thought you'd done something funny or were joking. I didn't really know," Josh told me later.

The front wheel hit the slightly higher bit of dirt and it slid. I was going too fast and there was no going back. There was no jumping or evading this crash. I bowed to the gravel in a humble embracement of the thundering reality coming swiftly up to greet me. She received me with sharp lashings and abrasions. 

Thankfully I didn't bang up my head too bad but my cranium got dragged down a little bit, scalping an extremely small area of my forehead. All the joints got nice scrapings. In the aftermath, I just laid there in disbelief. Nice to see you too, Gabe.

"Are you kidding me?" Gabe said laughing and walking up cautiously. "Did you just crash right now?"

"I cannot... fucking... believe this," I said, adrenaline thumping,an embarrassed laughter shaking its way out of me. I stared at the sky as the two silhouettes lined into my vision. Josh extended his hand down.

I looked hilarious. Gabe was still on the clock as a counselor and his kids were being watched so I was hurried into the camp. I was whisked through meeting all his close friends, bleeding everywhere and my face absolutely caked with dirt. If we weren't originally going to be allowed to sleep there, my injuries softened their hearts. 

In the building where Josh and I had to sign waivers, I cleaned myself off.

Gabe's camp is a Jewish camp that focuses on the children learning and preserving their culture with a moderate dose of religion. Not quite the evangelical fundamentalist Christian summer camp I used to go to, which was a little strong for my taste. Four hours of nonstop praising and singing can get old for any kid of twelve years, no matter how the lyrics go. Anyhow, the camp had rules against cell phones so during our stay, we didn't take pictures and I didn't write until today.

It was great to see Gabe at his summer camp. He was still exactly the same. Josh and I received VIP membership, which was fun because as a camper, I always wondered what the counselors did in their free time. Turns out, they knew how to welcome us and also have a good time.

One particular such good time was the complete destruction of an armchair. We were in a room in the back end of the camp only open to counselors. Counselors told the kids there was a hot tub in the building and a roller coaster out back. It was a large wooden building filled with couches, and armchairs. For the annihilation of one particular chair, we formed a maniacal and fervored mob. One girl climbed into the rafters as one of us passed the chair up to her.

We were all screaming in unison, "Drop the chair! Drop the chair!" And when it dropped we walloped, cheered, and danced wildly around the piece of furniture. Oh man, it was great.

After six weeks of taking care of children, it helps to let off steam. 

It also helps after nearly two months of biking.

On the long 70 mile day to Gabe's camp there wasn't much time to stop. BUT I did happen to notice an old television on the side of the road. I threw a rock into the thick glass, surprised at the noise and smoke it dissipated. 

Close to the town of Three Rivers, the location of Gabe's camp.

Clouds always appeared to want rain but never split open. Many farms passed.

 

Today's short ride from camp brought us to the town of Cassopolis where Josh and I stumbled upon a campground.

I met these two cows buzzing with flies. What you see here is both heads moving simultaneously toward their stomachs for a brief period of relief from the swarm of insects.

The last two days have been stupendous. 

Since I didn't have any pictures from the camp, I thought I'd use this one. Here is Gabe and I during our senior year playing jump rope with a downed power line. Friends are for doing dumb shit together. Much love.

The Boy Fell Asleep

We actually got up and at em at 7:00 like we had planned, which has not been happening as of late. Part of that was to thank Ruth before she went off to work. We also had the breakfast of champions thanks to the professional cooking of Mike.

Good lawd, it was delicious. Pan-fried potatoes, eggs with feta cheese, toast, and coffee. It fueled us for forty miles into the day without stoppage. I wish I'd gotten a picture with Mike and Ruth but I unfortunately forgot this morning. The two really gave us the full treatment.

We followed a route created by GoogleMaps that amazingly crafted a path around temporary construction and down bike paths. It's pretty miraculous what technology allows people to do these days.

So, I wrote this much and fell asleep with my phone in my hand around 9pm. It is frigid cold this morning in Concord, MI. A man in a cowboy hat this morning said it's a perfect day for riding. I've heard that so many times in so many different types of weather. Any day, really is pretty good for riding though... except snow, rain, tornados or hurricanes. 

Back in the States

The whirring of the wind turbines hum quietly over the green and gold countryside. At first glance, there is perhaps nothing but farms; corn and wheat. But under the shade of a tree, life moves.

A Kildeer bird with its black and white breast, whistles while bobbing its head. It paces back and forth all the while moving in short, rapid intervals. A Red-Winged Blackbird sits on a telephone wire and barks at me. A train rustles along the tracks in the distance carrying an unending fleet of cargo. The wind moves the landscape.

The day followed backroads through farm country for most of the day. Dirt roads took us on winding trails as our wheels slid through the dust. The sun glistened with its unsympathetic glare throughout the timeframe. 

Eventually establishments began to sprout up, gradually getting closer and closer to one another. Before I knew it, I was in the town of Windsor, which borders the United States, and Detroit.

Now, the tricky part for Josh and I was that there was no entry for bicycles into Detroit but this was solved a few days earlier. Gabe Appel-Kraut, my senior year roommate lives in Ann Arbor, MI. Since he was away at camp in Kalamazoo, MI, his father was generous enough to give Josh and I a ride back into the states and back to their house.

It was about an hour ride for Gabe's dad, Mike, whom I can't thank enough. He works a type of government real esate job just around the bend in Ann Arbor. I can see where Gabe got his sense of humor and kindness from. Mike went out of his way to help us out. His wife Ruth was awaiting our arrival at the home with a smorgasbord of taco eats. It's been a fantastic day. Thank you to the Appel-Kraut family. Everything has been sincerely amazing. 

Tomorrow, Josh and I are making our way to meet Ruth and Mike's son, Gabe. It'll be good to see the guy. Hell, it's only been about 3 months since we graduated at Pitt but I miss those boys.

Goodbye Canada.

   

Things to Know About Canada

So it's been... two days? Quite a lovely two days if I do say so myself. No phone and no wi-fi is a beautiful thing. However, Josh and I went from the city of London to the town of Chatham-Kent today and found a cheap hotel... with wi-fi. We camped out in the town of Woodstock, ON two nights ago and yesterday evening, we were hosted by the exceptionally interesting Dave Mitchell. Dave has been all over the world, showed an incredible ability to socialize about it without seeming arrogant, and was generous enough to share his home with us. Dave was the God of Travel. In pictures, this has been the last few days... and then I'll share with you everything I've learned about Canada.

The view from the Rail Trail upon leaving Hamilton, ON.

On the way to Woodstock, ON still out of Hamilton, ON.

A portion of London, ON (pop. 300,000). Largely a city built upon local education and its college, the University of Western Ontario. 

We biked through basically, nothing but farms. Monotonous beauty I think is an accurate description.

Canada

Independence: July 1, 1867. Secession from Britain.

Population: There are 35 million people living in Canada. In comparison, the state of California has 34.5 million people. In testimony to its heavy influence from the United States, nearly 90% of Canada's population lives within 200km (aboot 124 miles) of the border with the USA.

Geography: Canada is the 2nd largest country in the world if you include the bodies of water in their boundaries. Just based on land mass, it is the 4th behind Russia, China, and the United States.

Food/Drink: The beer is expensive and I don't know why. Six packs cost as much as a twelve pack in the states and it makes me sad. The food is pretty similar to the United States. A popular item in Canada is poutine, which are french fries slathered with gravy and cheese. Unfortunately, it's in Quebec where it's regarded as an art form but it is still delicious in Ontario. So delicious that you'll find it in every restaurant and fast food chain such as McDonald's, Wendy's, and... Tim Horton's.

Who is Tim Horton? Why is he so obsessed with putting his little fast food place on every corner of Canada? It's Canada's McDonald's and it's pretty great.

"Yeah, I have to show Ralph the Tim Horton's because he's never been to one," said Josh to our WarmShowers host John.

"When you go in for coffee, just make sure you ask for a 'Double Double'. You can pretend to be a real Canadian," laughed Jon.

A Double-Double is a coffee with two sugars and two creams.

Tim Horton's is Dunkin Donut's fancy, gay brother with more style and pizazz. 

Language: All the stereotypes are true. I will say this, the Canadian accent has such a withdrawn, soft-spoken, and polite quality to it that it seems like everyone is kind. It's difficult to explain but it seems like no one is capable of violence.
Aboot = About
Eh? <<<Yes, it's used all of the time.
Sounds like the language of a Native American and the accent of one from Northern Maine mixed with a California Surfer.. yeah, that's it.

Internal Problems: As most of you probably know, the providence of Quebec predominately speaks French. Nobody else does. They constantly "threaten" secession but not with any real malice. They're like America's Texas but not as trigger happy... or racist.

Currency: Canadian money contains no pennies so when something is, let's say $6.03, then they round it to $6.05. $6.02 would be $6.00. Also, paper currency at it's smallest amount is $5. By this I mean that there are no $1 or $2 bills. They're coins. 

The coin with the golden center is worth $2. The other coins are worth .25, .10, and .05 cents just like in the states.

Taxes: Taxes are much higher than in the US, mostly because of health care. The sales tax is 13% in Ontario but it's for the free health care that they receive.

"I mean, I couldn't imagine that," Tim said solemnly. "If you break an arm, don't you think you deserve to have that taken care of? Do you think that should financially ruin you?"

Josh and I looked at each other.

"No," Josh said. "We're kinda used to it though. It's just how it is."

"We're trying to change it in the US with Obamacare but there's a lot of opposition," I said.

It's also interesting to note the high taxes in Canadian airports. Very few Canadians fly out from their country. Instead, they usually enter the United States and fly from there, again because of taxes. I dunno how accurate the statistic was but a friend I met on CouchSurfing said that Toronto has a 50% tax on their tickets out of the country. 

Quips: "So, yeah, you'll come down here on Wellington Avenue and make a left onto Lundy's Lane, the street named after one of the battles from the War of 1812... you know, the one we beat you in," quipped Mark.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?!" I laughed as I turned to Josh.

"That's literally the third time we've heard about that today," Josh said.

"Yeah, we have a bit of an inferiority complex," said Mark.

Thomas Jefferson remarked before the war that all the America had to do to gain Canada, (then it was Great Britain) was to just march on in. It was believed that the Canadians (British) would just join the American ranks but the ole USA couldn't have been more wrong. The war lasted two years. Supposedly a walk in the park for an American Army that outnumbered Canadians 10 to 1, it was anything but. Canada successfully defended itself... and then some. They captured much of Maine and New York but returned it in the Treaty of Ghent.

An article I found from a Canadian Encyclopedia put it best:

"And the growing belief that they, the civilian soldiers, and not the First Nations and British regulars, had won the war - more mythic than real - helped to germinate the seeds of nationalism in the Canadas. Canada owes its present shape to negotiations that grew out of the peace, while the war itself - or the myths created by the war - gave Canadians their first sense of community and laid the foundation for their future nationhood. To this extent the Canadians were the real winners of the War of 1812."

Hockey: "Hey Paul, how you been?" the man in the parking lot of the supermarket yelled to another man shuffling through the area.

"You wanna know?" he called back. "October 5th, 7:00 pm, Maple Leaves vs. Colorado! It's time for hockey again!"

Josh and I saw the most epic hockey commercial while in Niagara Falls that almost brought a tear to my eye, and I don't even give a shit about the sport. Canadians absolutely live and die for hockey. It almost made me sad that the USA almost beat them in the last Olympics... almost.

 
 In summary, Canada kicks ass (metaphorically) and I might move here. 

Tomorrow is quite a special day. We're riding to Detroit from here in Chatham-Kent... and things get complicated. Till tomorrow.