Riding to Chicago from Cleveland, Day 4

I was up early in Elkhart, Indiana, and left the campground feeling somewhat refreshed while the sun was coming up. It was the first time I had to use my back blinker on the trip. I ended up going to McDonald's and ordered 2 Sausage Egg McMuffins. Bike touring was finally having an effect on my appetite. A guy came up to me at my table and asked if the bike outside was mine (it was). He told me about his planned trip to Chattanooga and was giving me tips on how to get free stuff on tour. He asked why I didn't go down to the Salvation Army to get breakfast. He also asked me if I ever heard of the Stranded Motorist Fund that you can use to get free motel rooms. He bragged that he bike toured for two weeks without paying anything by going to the local police or fire station and getting them to use this fund to put him up in hotels. He probably could write the book on how to be homeless cyclist. When we're on tour, we are all homeless cyclists in a way.

Maybe it was just that experience, but I didn't really feel at ease in Elkhart. It was a small town with big city traffic attitude. It made me feel uneasy like I sometimes do in Ashtabula, with little pockets of decrepitude. I had the hardest time finding even a gas station after I forgot to fill my water bottles at the McDonald's, so I biked back a mile to the McDonald's to fill each. They did capitalize on the elk in Elkhart and had statues here and there. I really tried to just get out of there as soon as I could.

I knew I'd be on a long stretch of country road until I reached La Porte. I was also hoping to reach Munster by the end of the day, which was 100 miles away, and I wasn't sure how much traffic would increase as I neared Chicago. Though I'd seen so much corn the whole course of the trip, I made sure that I took some pictures of these 8 feet tall plants that almost formed tunnels. It was really my last opportunity.





La Porte was a little oasis in the trip set on some lakes. I happened into a place called Temple News Agency, which served ice cream and Intelligentsia coffee, a sure sign that I was getting close to Chicago. The folks there gave me some advice on how to get to Chicago. They seemed to think that going through Valparaiso would be good and that it had 3 microbreweries too. They also thought that maybe I could go north too, but I didn't want to take the chance since I new other cyclists who had been car blocked as they were traveling to Gary, only having to finish their tour to Chicago by trying to get a taxi or bus into the city with their bike in tow.

Going through Valparaiso ended up being a good route. Valparaiso was really busy, but once I got to Hobart, there were some bike paths including the Oak Savannah that had beautiful views of lily pads. In Griffith, there was another trail called the Erie-Lackawanna, a name very reminiscent of the Buffalo area. Maybe it's a railroad trail. I felt these trails really helped to give me a boost to make it the 100 miles and provided some shade after riding on farm roads with few trees.





It really wasn't busy until right outside of Munster. There were some roads where I felt I couldn't ride and where they were lacking sidewalks. I would walk and ride, taking my time and trying not to get stressed out by rush hour traffic. I felt lucky that I hadn't experienced this volume of traffic until I reached Munster, which was less than 30 miles away from downtown Chicago. The notion crossed my mind that I could walk that distance in a day if I really had to do that to make it to my destination.

That night, I stayed at the Hampton Inn, which was conveniently located down the street from Three Floyds Brewery. When I went to 3 Floyds, there were lines out the shop and the restaurant. It was fun, but it was located in this industrial park instead of integrated into a downtown area. Worth the visit despite not being immediately visible from the street. I met a dude from Michigan who programmed robots that make cars while I was there and had an interesting chat.



Of all my bike tour days, I ate the most disgusting food on this day, but it was also the day I was able to do the most miles. There might be a correlation or even causation between those two things. Things I ate: 2 Sausage Egg McMuffins, Chocolate Milk, Apple Juice, Gummi Worms, Granola Bar, Large Black Berry Milkshake, 7 Layer Burrito from Taco Bell, 2 Chili Dogs courtesy of Hampton Inn, and 2 pints of beer. I never eat meat, but I was just listening to what my body wanted me to do mostly. I actually didn't feel the extreme fatigue that I've felt before at the end of the day. This was my last long day of the tour, so I knew I wouldn't have to eat like this again most likely. Still so gross though.

The bed and upholstered furniture felt so soft. I melted into it at the end of the day.

Riding to Chicago from Cleveland, Day 3

Lazy River Resort and Campground was shrouded with morning mist very early. I headed over to the party barn early to get a shower. The first two showers didn't work at all except as spider habitats. I then looked for the shower that was mostly dust free, and I was able to get a stream of water from it. It was completely cold. The campground was a bartered bargain at $10, and I got what I paid for. I was still thankful to wash off two days of road riding in that dirty stall. My cellphone charged completely there too. I can't complain.

I was starving. The only place I thought that I could find on the way to Angola, Indiana were maybe in Montpelier which was 6 miles south of Route 20, which I wanted to take to Angola. A kind guy on the motorcycle confirmed this with me, and said I could maybe find a McDonald's there. You can't pedal without food, and Angola was still 20 miles off. I decided to make the trek and ended up at Rowe's Recreation where I had an egg sandwich and some fried potatoes. A lot of older people were congregating there early on a Sunday morning at large tables. An older man sat next to me and was asking me questions about my tour. He liked living in the country and had worked 39 years at a nearby plant. He looked old enough to be retired to me. It's too long to work in a factory. He gave me directions for going west and also warned me about dogs on some of the more "country" roads, which was foreshadowing.



After biking through the water banned region of Toledo the day before, I was comforted by the city limit brag signs that Montpelier had award-winning water 3 times in the last decade. I took a sip of water accidentally at the restaurant and freaked out. Residents assured me that they got their water "from a glacier." Isn't Lake Erie from a glacier too? I guess they have another glacial source of water that is separate from what Toledo residents drink.

I headed west on country roads from Montpelier and was chased by a dog on my way back to Route 20. There was a truck heading toward it, and it scurried away. Route 20 from Angola to La Grange was constant rollers up and down. The shoulder was wide enough for a car, and I felt fairly safe riding my bike in it. In La Grange, I made the decision to go through Shipshewana instead of Goshen, which I think was the right choice. I didn't know that Shipshewana was home to Mennonite families. The roads were slow enough for me because they were used to speed of horse and carriages. That day, I empirically learned that my bike was much faster than at least three buggies.



While going through Shipshewana, I just followed a constant trail of compacted horse manure for maybe 20 miles. I also was able to take the Pumpkinvine Trail, which was a bike-only trail, for 16 miles I think. It was shade covered, and I think it helped speed up my pace. Every bike trail I found like this served to fast forward my trip. This trail even had a Dairy Queen on it as an extra bonus. I kept riding through picturesque Bristol and then eventually arrived in Elkhart, Indiana, RV Capitol of the World. I stayed at Elkhart Campgrounds and ended up having a lovely conversation with Matt and Jenny, who are semi-retired. They broke the ice with me by presenting me with a quarter-watermelon and a plastic spoon. I ate it all. We sat by their campfire as Jenny told me the history of all the people in her life. Both Matt and Jenny had red-headed daughters named Melissa who both were widows and both had cancer themselves. They seemed very much in love with each other.

Riding to Chicago from Cleveland, Day 2

I woke up to Gibsonburg, Ohio in a tent being lightly drummed by rain and a cellphone (and map) that was dead. I waited some, but the rain never dissipated, so I packed up my wet gear in the rain and rode into town a few miles down the road. The only place that was open at 7:30 am was a gas station. They had neither paper maps nor the charger that I needed for my cellphone, but they were able to direct me to the Dollar General down the street. I biked there and was able to get the USB/AC adapter for my phone at 8:00 am. All this was about 3 miles from the campground where I had spent the night. I knew there was a diner next to the campground, so I headed there to get some calories and hopefully to start charging my phone.

At the Hungry Bear Diner, they served me pancakes that completely hid my plate. I obsessed over my phone, texting people to let them know I was alive and good while it thundered outside. Young women who were on summer break from high school waited on me and hid in the back room as soon as they dropped off the goods. The diner was high school sports themed with the Golden Bears being the mascot for the schools there. Is that like a honey bear?

Even though people gave me directions to head south and take country roads west, I decided to bike north to Route 20 to get to Perrysburg and Toledo. I felt completely isolated the day before, and I didn't want to be caught in a torrential downpour with no shelter around me but private residences. Route 20 from Gibsonburg to Perrysburg wasn't bad with the exception of entering Perrysburg where it seemed to mimic an interstate rather than a highway. This only lasted from the intersection of Rt. 420 to I-75. On Google Maps, it's where it says Fremont Pike on Rt. 20.

It continued to rain all morning. I took a break at a Tim Horton's in Perrysburg. I was about to fill up my water bottles when they told me that there was a water ban in effect for the Toledo area. People were filling their cars with bottled water in the box stores all around the Tim Horton's.

This was my view from the donut place while my phone was charging, and I was enjoying a lovely coffee with milk. I didn't get any donuts. My body still hadn't adjusted to everything. I didn't even eat a quarter of the pancakes they served me at Hungry Bear.



I left there a little recharged even sans TimBits and biked through the historic downtown of Perrysburg and then Maumee, Ohio. I missed my turn somewhere and ended up going through a busy edge of Toledo by the airport, but things calmed down as soon as I started down Angola Road. They calmed way down as I didn't see even a convenient store until into Country Road L, maybe a county away. The rest of the miles this day were very rural. I made it to my destination at the Lazy River Resort & Campground in Pioneer, Ohio. Noone was working at the office even at 5:00 in the afternoon. I was exhausted and decided to pitch my tent and charge my cellphone at a space in the front part of the campground. Every restroom was locked. I took a nap for about an hour and then went on a walk of the camp where I found the party barn that had an open restroom with working toilets. On my way out of the party barn, a man in a golf cart asked me if I was the lady with the bike (I was). I asked him if he worked there (he did). I paid him there. He asked, "How does 10 dollars sound?" I said it sounded fine. I never filled out any paperwork. He also inquired, "Do you drink beer?" to which I replied sometimes. He invited me to the party barn for a dance and said the guys there would make me feel welcome and would share drinks from their coolers with me. I told him I was fairly exhausted. As I fell asleep, I listened to country hits as well as "Sweet Alabama" three times that was punctuated with little whoops. I wanted to shower, but I didn't want to walk past the people in the barn.

This was also another night when I looked at the map to see what restaurants were near, but nothing was particularly close. It was another Payday candybar dinner--exactly what was for dinner the night before. I was so thankful for being able to fill my stomach with it too.

Riding to Chicago from Cleveland, Day 1

I hadn't had a really long ride since the summer before. I wasn't entirely confident that my legs would carry me as far as my destination in Gibsonburg, but I glided along just fine, and everything stayed situated on my bike, including my new solar pad that was draped over the curvature of my sleeping bad that was strapped with bungee cords to my back rack. It was a first for me. I was a little nervous as I set off to leave Cleveland, Ohio.



In Vermillion, I stopped for lunch at a Mexican restaurant in part of a busy part of town on Route 6. I hadn't reached the cute downtown area, not knowing if they even had such a strip like that in tiny Vermillion. My server who was originally from Mexico chatted with me and told me his life story on how he decided the the United States were for him, despite gaining employ with a public power company in Mexico that gave him great benefits, pay, and work life balance. He told me that his motivation for leaving his job was simple: American women. When he was visiting relatives in Chicago, he ended up going on dates with 4 different women, each of which he was able to "make love" to at the end of the date. It never happened for him that way in Mexico where the women were more conservative. J. hung around me maybe a little too long, sitting down at my table, and then walking me out to my bike outside the restaurant. I was another American woman, I guess. He invited me to stop back sometime.

I continued to ride along Lake Erie until I reached Huron, Ohio, where I dipped south onto some rural roads for the first time. Things were going well, but I still had to check my cell to see if I was going the right way. Sometimes, I think I did this just to get off my bike for a spell. I pulled under a tree and checked my coordinates in Clyde, Ohio, where I met Ben, a 35 year-old retiree who tended a small garden outside of his small house. He didn't own a computer or a car or a cell phone. He didn't buy into the college-promise that so many people my age subscribed to and have debt as a result. He was surprised when I showed him my map in the palm of my hand. He checked out my bike and pinched my tire, measuring a pressure of 85 PSI with his fingertips. He was kind and offered me a place to camp on his property, which I declined, and he insisted that I take two bowling pin sized zucchinis with me along with spearmint. He said he would just toss them into the adjacent field if I didn't take them. I managed to fit them into my back pannier, knowing that he just passed the ceremonious zucchini toss onto me for that evening's entertainment. I finally made it to downtown Clyde, the first sign of civilization, when I saw a historical marker telling me that I was biking through Winesburg, Ohio.




I felt like I had been riding through the chapters of Sherwood Anderson's book in a way.

At the end of the day, I did make it to Gibsonburg, though I didn't have much cell power. After that, I decided not to use Endomondo on my trip to conserve energy. In my haste in getting on the road that morning, I also forgot my USB-AC adapter to plug my phone into the outlet located next to my tent. No stores were open until 8:00 am the next morning--the store being a Dollar General about 3 miles away. M., a diver who was going to dive the next day in White Star Quarry, talked to me a little but I pulled away to get some sleep. He had had bariatric surgery in the last year and was happy to be diving again. The last 10 miles of the trip really drained me. I may not have been eating enough at the end of day. I slept hard and was woken up by a large truck that decided to take the campsite next to mine. There was no shower at the campsite, though I felt like I owned the dirt encasement.

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