This morning started out without rain, but not dry. We had fog. And when on a bicycle, facing fog, there is but one thing to do. Which we did, and once again right out of the motel, we faced a rather daunting climb. Undaunted, well, because by this point, what’s the point, we pedaled along through northeast Ohio. I stopped to take a picture which put me behind.

This stop put me behind my peers and alone. I may have mentioned that I tell myself that I like to ride alone until reaching the first sag not because my legs are tired, but just to be alone. Today my legs were tired and it was wonderful being alone. The road was rough but virtually untraveled. The fog closed the world tightly around me as I rolled along. Sound is muted, water droplets cling to your gloves, and the horizon is just in front, or just by your side. The first morning miles on tour are magical, if you allow them to be.

Our first sag was in the parking lot of a McDonald’s in Andover, Ohio. This, in and of itself, is not newsworthy. However, to get to the McDonald’s we passed by the lumber yard that Linda’s (as in Iron Legs Linda, and not just a tour partner of mine, but friend too) father used to own. One of the four Ohio natives was rolling past home. Yes, the McDonald’s restroom was clean.

About this time something wonderful happened. For pretty much the first time since the state line, the weather turned clear. It became one of those wonderful June days with not that much heat, or can you believe it, humidity. And, we came to the White Turkey Drive Inn in Conneaut, Ohio.

Their specialties are turkey sandwiches and root beer floats. I chose the root beer float. It is well worth riding 60 miles to get here.

We reluctantly left the White Turkey and within a mile we checked off state number 11.

Once across the state line the road was smooth and quiet, and the air nice and warm. The last thirty miles melted away like soft-serve into root beer. We easily cruised through downtown Erie, which is very nice and rolled downhill to the lake where our motel awaited. It is a very nice place right on the water. It is late, I need to get my laundry out of the dryer, and I am really tired. Alas, tomorrow is our 5th and final rest day. Tour is winding down and I want to thank you for riding along.

We started today in the rain. But, we did not end the day in the rain. Enough said about that. Who am I kidding, if not for the weather, we as a race might as well be moot. It was a tough day. My theory is, in making light of yesterday’s town, most of the band, rather than passing through Funk, wound up in one. It might also have had something to do with the three mile climb out of Wooster. Just a guess. At the second sag, Bill sauntered up to me and asked quietly, are you only averaging 14 mph? It was that kind of a day, and yes.

The most noticeable feature is still the flooding. The only difference between Ohio and points west, is that we are in the middle of it, not following along behind. It is scary bad here. I know we have been getting hammered at home too, but I hope it’s not this bad.

We passed through the little town of Canal Fulton which, for those of you on the ball will know, is part of the old Erie Canal. Canal Fulton is also on the Tuscarora River. As you can see, they have become one and the people of the town are rightly concerned.

We are now way into this endeavor and the rigors of the tour are starting to take a toll on the bicycles, not just the bicyclists. In the last few days we have had a broken frame, two broken wheels, and various tire and cable issues. Today I decided to Marie Kondo my gears. I have two sprockets in front and 11 on the rear. This gives me 22 gears to choose from. I know you could have done that math yourself, but I had the calculator up on my phone anyway. I digress. My rear shifter had been acting up all morning and finally at about 50 miles I was able to shift into the lower gears but could not shift back up. I managed to get the chain into the middle of the rear cassette and used the front chain rings as my gear selector. You cannot image how simple your life is with only two gears to choose from. Luckily we had but 43 miles to go and were pretty much done with the hills.

In fact we spent spent 12 miles on a real live bikeway heading into our destination city of Niles.

One bonus on the bikeway was this deafening buzz that we could not identify until we started seeing dead locusts on the trail. This area is in the middle of a 17 year hatch. At least I guess that’s what it would be called. Alas, even bikeways are not always infallible.

I now just have to Hang on Greg, Greg hang on. One more 90 mile day and we get our last rest day in Erie PA. We have chomped up Ohio in some pretty big bites. The shifting was a corrosion problem (can’t imagine what caused the corrosion) fixed by copious amounts of gear lube. We have 683 miles to ride and 23,707 feet left to climb. Thank you for riding along.

The rain has been outwitting us since eastern Kansas. It has been in front of us, to our north and to our south. But today, we finally caught that wiley precipitation and it looks like we have it in our grasp for the foreseeable future. So yes, we started our 98 mile journey in the rain. And while it never really rained hard, we had showers and the roads were wet the whole way. And that good old Ohio humidity brought back fond memories of sticky shirts and sweat running down the back, all the way to the pad in the spandex.

Other than starting with a flat at 8 miles, the day went rather well. I should mention a very helpful lady in a pickup truck stopped to point out that I should not be standing by the side of a narrow road in the rain, and that I should move on. Linda, who was helping me, thanked the kind soul for her advice.

We learned early that we would have another detour due to a bridge being out. But, the clever CrossRoads crew found a quick work adound of less than a mile. Which, everybody seemed happy with.

But then, sometimes you get that unplanned detour. The picture below was about a mile past the detour sign and had just come down. Tom F., who was less than a 1/2 mile ahead heard the thing come down. He said these guys were just passing by, stopped and got out their chainsaws. Around here, if something needs doing, somebody does it.

Having done a disastrous Triathlon in this area in my former life, I knew this was a hilly area. Somehow though, I had buried away just how hilly. Just over 4,000 feet as it turns out. Might also mention 5 hills with a grade exceeding 10% and one at 13.2%. Not sure about the rest of the crew, but I got tired. And now you’re wondering about today’s title. Or maybe you aren’t. We are in Amish country so what better name for a town where the local hipsters sport bonnets, sensible shoes and slacks with no zippers?

Tomorrow is a shorter day at 93 miles. And from the forecast we have that rain thing going for at least 93 of those. Today the Garmin geeks in our team found the prospect of the detour giving us another 100 mile plus day, back to back as it were. At the most, a quick trip around the block would do it. So, what did the boy from the Burg’ do?

We now have 776 miles to ride and only 27,054 more feet of climbing. We are smelling the barn folks. Thank you for riding along.

We slept through a tornado that touched down and unkindly removed the roof of the Richmond Mall, less than a half mile from our motel. We started the ride in a steady downpour. The day promised 105 miles of drenching rain and road grime. And you know what. It was the best damn day ever!

You see, when we got to the 43 mile sag, Tom G. and my (yes, I do have friends, they charge more than is reasonable, but it’s well worth it to hear, oh yea, Greg, he’s a friend) friends, had a fabulous party set up, and in full swing.

Now this is a welcome.

I also have to say that during this stop, the rain stopped and never came back. I cannot take all of the credit for this positive karma, but I will take some. I have been working out every day, drinking way too little alcohol, and only eating junk at the sags, before and after dinner and at breakfast, so not bad.

Did I mention everyone was there? My brother Tim and his wife Colleen were there somewhere. Also too many friends to mention.

I might as well just say it. The rest of the ride was a very easy blur. We had a great tailwind and we knocked out the 105 miles in 6 hours and 47 seconds. But who cares, what a party.

It was an overwhelming day, both physically and more so, emotionally. I want to again thank everyone for showing up. Thank you Richard and Rick (Tom’s neighbor and his son) for riding along. And keeping pace with enviably little effort. Thank you Pete and Kathy for showing up on Runkle Rd. and at the Urbana sag, even though you couldn’t make the first stop. And thanks to all of you, yes, you know who you are, for riding along. Very sincerely, Greg.

One more thing. I want to thank Eddie and Chris for the photos and you too can access them at. http://gregrides.eddie.run

Well that’s what the song says. But then, who are you going to believe, Roger Miller or your own eyes? We left the big city in the rain and with cool temperatures. It could have been worse. At 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday, there is not much traffic downtown. Indianapolis also has a great bike lane system, some of which is even protected by posts. So instead of cars parked or the lane being used as a means to pass on the right, we confidently bicycled along. Once on Rt. 40, the road opened up with a nice shoulder and the rain became intermittent. Not so bad really.

The first, and last town of any size before Richmond was Greenfield. This town’s claim to fame is that it is the birthplace of James Whitcomb Riley. He is known as the Hoosier poet. And you know him as the man who said, “When I see a bird that walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, I call that bird a duck.” See what you are missing by not being on this ride?

It was a pretty short day at only 73 miles, and since it was raining, no one was in a mood to hang around and take pictures. So, the one below was also in Greenfield.

And this one too, in the same town.

After 68 miles we entered Richmond and as things generally go when entering cities, it got ugly. First, it started to rain hard. Secondly, we had a 4 mile stretch that passed by every shopping center and mall in the county. And since it was noon, and raining hard, everyone decided to be annoyed at the bicyclists pedaling for their lives to get to the motel. Which, finally we did.

We have traveled 2,460 miles now which means we have only three digits remaining. Because, as you know 960 is way less than 1,000. Tomorrow is a big day at 105 to Marysville. Please join us in Covington if you get the chance. We are all tired of seeing only each other and could use some fresh faces. The details are on yesterday’s post. Hope to see some of you and thanks so much for riding along.

Today was a great day to bicycle. It was cold this morning and the distance was only 55 miles, so we slept in and started around 8:00. It warmed up quick so we shed jackets early at what is left of a little town that, as far as I know, is only known for an abandoned gas station.

If you look at that sky you get an idea of the kind of day we had. I should also point out that my legs were still feeling that race (I don’t know what else to call it) Tom G. and I had finishing up yesterday. But as I pedaled along my phone pinged telling me we had reached the first, and only sag, at 25 miles. It is nice to lose time and just clip off miles.

We entered Indianapolis from the south via Girls School Road. As it turns out, it is so named because on this road is the Indiana State Prison for Women. The road was narrow and terrible, so sorry, no picture.

But we soon detoured up onto the White River bike trail and worked our way effortlessly into Indy.

As I mentioned, 55 miles is now pretty much a rest day. Whoa, wait, I should say, as long as the weather cooperates. The rooms weren’t ready yet so we changed shoes and walked to the war memorial. As it turns out, the elevator is out of service so we hiked the 330 steps to the observation deck.

We did finally get into our rooms and this motel has one spectacular view. I am probably the last to know this, but Indianapolis has a canal running right through downtown. And we are on it.

Now I want tell everyone from around home that this Sunday, June 16th, we will be rolling through Covington, Ohio. Yes, that Covington. We have a sag at the city lot on High Street, which is Rt. 48. If you think you might want to do this ride you can meet Paula and Dana Farmer. Tom A. and Rick will be there too. And for any young single girls, Peyton, the riding mechanic will also be making an appearance. We will leave Richmond around 7:00 and the sag is at 43 miles. So, depending on the weather, we should should be showing up any time after 9:30 or 10:00. It is going to be a 105 mile day, but I am definitely going to hang around for a while. So please come up if you can. And if you want to ride a bit or a bunch, you are welcome to do that too. Below is the GPS link to Sunday’s ride if you want to come along. And yes, thank you for riding along.

https://ridewithgps.com/routes/18081454?privacy_code=xBwCe6ywUX9dhN3B

It seems few can agree on why this demonym (my new word for the day) came into use, and even fewer seem to care.

Today started way cool and even way-er windier. But today that wind was our friend. She blew us clean out of Illinois and right into Indiana. Which, for those of you keeping track, is our 9th state. The biggest difference noticed so far is the roads are more bike friendly.

But the big deal of the day was the wind. After changing another flat at about 55 miles, Tom G. caught me and we decided to just get this ride done. The roads are pretty darn flat and with a 20+ mph wind blowing at their backs, two boys can eat up some serious real estate. So they did.

We kept pushing to within 2 miles of the motel where we turned right into that beautiful wind. I am pretty sure that if we would have had that all day, we would still be working on finishing those 80 miles. But as it was, we were on the bikes for just 4 1/2 hours. Although technically it did take an extra hour since we are now on eastern time.

The highlight of the day for me was the chance to have dinner with a great friend from back in our burial vault manufacturing days. Which meant that we not only got to catch up, we had very good Italian instead of Cracker Barrel for dinner. Thanks again Terri, for driving down just for dinner.

Tomorrow we are starting late due to cold weather and a short day. Indianapolis is only 55 miles away. And hopefully we have that rear tire situation worked out. I will let you know. Thanks for riding along.

And bikes now in Indiana.

Today arrived late this morning. With no alarm I got an hour extra hour of sleep. This is day 33 of the tour and we have pedaled on 27 days. By 10:00, I had my bike cleaned and laundry done. And from the way-good karma department, by early afternoon it was raining and storming. And it was on our day off. Someone in this group has been living right.

So in the interest of not being boring, like I was yesterday, I am just going to throw in a few figures. We have covered 2,253 miles. We have, without detours, 1,147 miles to go. We have climbed 69,092 feet and descended 68,438 feet. So not much to show for all that work. I do not want to know how many more feet we have to climb.

Tomorrow we have 80 miles with very cool temperature forecast, and too much wind. But no rain? And now just because I found it timely I give you the cartoon below. And thank you for riding along.

Finally, as you may have noticed, I am somewhat distracted today. I am dedicating this post to Terry Murray. Terry was a runner’s runner, mentor and friend. He crossed the finish line today, June 12, 2019. May he spend his much much deserved rest in peace.

The day started, as most days, with clear skies and a cool breeze. The terrain was nothing to complain about, so I will complain about the roads instead. I understand the state of Illinois, like many states has budget issues, but these roads are a mess. We kerplunked our way into the town of Chestnut, our first sag at 34 miles. I believe I have mentioned that every town has something to call its own. Well this town has been around since 1872, so I guess Gary was the first one to get around to doing the math.

I might mention that I have become something of an expert at flat. And I must say, Illinois is right up there with the best.

But the land is pretty and is starting to remind me of home.

Except for those roads, the day was going pretty well until just before the second sag at 65 miles. At maybe 62, I got my first flat in over 1,000 miles. No big deal. But, try as I might, I could not find what caused it. As you may know, flats don’t just happen, something gets through the tire, into the tube, causing the air to reunite with its kindred molecules. If you don’t find the culprit, you are bound to be repeating the process. But, if you can’t find it, you put in a new tube and hope for the best. On to the sag under the clear blue sky.

This worked until about mile 80 when my rear tire went flat again. Shortly after I had the tire removed, Dana showed up in the van and we both went through the tire again, and aha, a tiny wire was just sticking through the inside. Wire pulled out, new tube, and on my way again.

By this time I was behind all but three other riders, but I now had confidence in my tire. Silly boy. At 84 miles, and just 5 miles to the motel, I felt the familiar thump, thump, thump. So I cussed like a sailor at no one in particular and climbed down onto what passed for a shoulder. It was a very busy road heading into town and I had to find what was causing this problem. We always carry two tubes but I was down to to one, having resupplied at the sag, but not after the second flat. I poked and prodded and filled the old tube several times with my hand pump, but could not find a hole. I also could find nothing in the tire. The last two CrossRoads riders went past and asked if I needed help but I had it under control, so I sent them on. As luck would have it, the bike shop Peyton worked at was in Champaign and less than two miles from where I was now. So I thought, fill it up, and you can get at least two miles, and fix it at the shop. So I put in my last tube, put it all back together, put on the co2 cartridge and blew the stem out of the tube. Out of options, I texted my buddy Tom and gave him the news. I was walking the bike to the shop. Tom was at the shop having his bottom bracket worked on, so it could have been worse. After only a mile or so, Peyton shows up with his girlfriend and her truck and they ferry me to the shop. With a new tire, new tube, and a spare tube, I ride back to the scene of the crime, and then to the motel, because a flat tire or three, is not going to keep me from riding every …. inch (EFI, in tour lingo) across the USA. I know, a bit windy today, and probably boring too, but I have now got that off my chest and tomorrow is a rest day. Thank you for riding along.

The 104 mile ride from Quincy to Springfield started out with cool air, a steady breeze, sunny skies and a detour. This one however, was not due to the flooding. It was just the routine replacement of an overpass. This added but 4 miles to the route and there was no need for ladders. After our first sag, we passed through the small town of Liberty, Illinois. I am sorry, but I simply could not let this one go.

The Potawatoni Trail of Death was the forced relocation of the remaining 859 members of the Potawatoni Nation in 1838. They were moved from Indiana to eastern Kansas. The marker in Liberty Park, in Liberty, Illinois marks part of the trail.

We passed over the Illinois River today.

As we found, the Illinois River is flooded too.

Things started to get long at this point and the wind had picked up considerably. The photo below shows how fickle the land can be.

The biggest problem with the wind was that it could not decide which direction to blow. It was usually a quartering tail but would swing to a direct cross, or quartering head. The quote of the day from Tom G. “This wind is like a seven year old helping with chores, they really want to help, but…” By the final 5 miles the wind had settled on a direct headwind. But lucky for the wind, the roads turned to rubble, so we spent as much time cussing the roads as the wind.

This was our 3rd day of over 100 miles. We have one more this Sunday. Tomorrow, after pedaling the 87 miles to Champaign, we will get our second to last rest day. I am looking forward to that. Thank you for riding along.