The Awkward Pose

June 8, 2015 – Sunny, 85 degrees with thunderstorms

Miles Today: 37

Miles to Date: 1,932

States to Date: 10

Every time I am in Chicago I remember how much I love this city. It’s got big city amenities, big city feel plus eager, friendly people. Bonnie and Frank, my warmshowers hosts, offered to take me on a bike tour of the city. Since I’ve seen the highlights before, we skipped the lake and Millennium Park in favor of the emerging South of the Loop and Pilsen neighborhoods. The former Germantown is now the center of Chicago’s Mexican community. We picked up Janet along the way and four fit retirees hit the streets. Chicago is a giant playground for architects; everyone is keen on architecture. Bonnie is a docent at the Glessner House, and we stopped often to study arches, lintel and rustication.

We ate breakfast at Neuevo Leon, an amazing Mexican Restaurant whose three dining rooms were packed at 10:00 a.m. on a Monday morning. My chorizo tostadas were delicious, the extra warm tortillas and egg samples a bonus. Everything was generous except the place settings. I have been in three restaurants in the Mid-west that give you only a napkin and a fork. Have knives and spoons not made it across the Ohio River? How am I supposed to devour every bit of the delicious food without using my fingers?

We said our goodbyes and I continued west. My cycling routes often divide into thirds, and today was a classic example. My first ten miles traversed the westward migration of Mexican immigrants in Chicago. I stopped at a Mexican bakery along 21^st street – gluttony trumped hunger – to satisfy my sweet tooth. Then I continued on to Cicero, where one side of 26^th Street was a huge intermodal train/truck terminal, while the other side was neat Chicago-style brick houses. On to Berwyn, where the houses got further apart but the pick-up trucks still blared Mariachi music. Finally, I hit full-blown suburbs in North Riverside, with malls and long ranch houses, but all the residents were still Mexican-Americans.

My second third was along the Salt Creek Trail; ten miles of cool, winding path through Cook County’s extensive Forest Preserve system.

Finally, I popped out in Oak Brook, a lush, very affluent exurb. Oak Brook is the headquarters of McDonald’s and apparently the executives take Happy Meal castles and pump them up to McMansions of enormous size. Brick is passé – the new ones are stone. One turret is a minimum, two or three are better. I saw one house so slick I thought it was still waiting for permanent siding. Then I realized the exterior was polished travertine. Really? In Chicago?

The exurbs are the most dangerous place to cycle. Entitled people in big cars have no patience for the rules of the road. At one intersection, after I waited to get a crossing sign, six cars cut in front of me for their right turn. Along one stretch a thin, tan woman with dazzling earrings slowed her SUV down enough to scream ‘Sidewalk’ at me, before gunning off and giving me a mouthful of exhaust. Even though by law I am supposed to ride on the road, I followed her unwelcome advice and took to the sidewalk for self-preservation.

I took a long afternoon break and waited out a serious thunderstorm, then got to my old high school friend David Klippell’s house in Naperville around six. It’s been more than twenty years since we’ve seen each other. David, his fiancé Charlene, daughter Karen, and I enjoyed beers and enchiladas. David, a carpenter, showed me all his handy work. Then we stayed up too late talking; we had a lot of catching up to do.

June 6, 2015 – Sunny, 70 degrees

Miles Today: 61 

Total Miles: 1,857   

Total States: 9

Today was the perfect day to cycle: seventy degrees and sunny with a light breeze that kept coming from different directions to cool and push me along. A day so good I slipped into Central Time and got an extra hour to enjoy it.

I dawdled around my hotel in the morning, enjoyed the complementary breakfast, and pedaled out just before ten. I spent most of yesterday and today on the Red Arrow Highway, an odd road in that it is a main thoroughfare, yet has no state number. It parallels I-94 from Kalamazoo to New Buffalo, sometimes as a narrow country road, sometimes as a four-lane highway. It also has these bizarre I-94 ‘Emergency ‘ signs posted all along the way. If there is an emergency on I-94, this byway isn’t going to offer much help. Regardless, Red Arrow Highway has little traffic, as I-94 is never more than a mile away.

Even on a cycle tour, the rhythm of weekends is different from weekdays. I don’t have appointments to meet with groups, but there are more people out and about for me to meet. I stopped at the intricate sand castle sculpture and wound up talking with Tim Ferrell, owner of Harbor Cabin Court about tomorrow. He is particularly interested our food system, and seemed disappointed that my on the road food regimen isn’t more discriminating.

I stopped by a small crafts fair with local honey and jams. I also learned that any road called ‘Lakeshore Drive’ would veer me off the highway, wind along wooded streets and Lakefront houses, and eventually bring me back to Red Arrow. Plenty of weekend cyclists filled the shoulder. Chris caught me just north of the Indiana line. We rode together for a few miles and swapped touring stories until he grew tired of my pace and sped off.

Long Beach and Sheridan IN are very nice beach towns; Michigan City is sleepy on a sunny Saturday afternoon. In Pines I met Zach, a convenience store cashier, who has the most radical view of tomorrow I’ve encountered to date. Sales tax rates and their application vary in every state, but I was surprised when he charged no tax on my purchase. Apparently it is his small way to subvert our monetary system, which he condemns as he collects cash from customers for gas and cigarettes.

Route 12 runs through Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore for more than ten miles, though I only saw the water when I sidetracked to the main beach, which was crowded with sun worshippers on a clear day too cool for many swimmers. After a writing break, I made my way to the Miller’s Beach neighborhood of Gary, an eclectic, funky place where my warmshowers hosts Olivia and Ty made an awesome dinner of pizza, tortellini and Asian salad before heading out to view an art show in a converted grocery store, empty storefronts turned graffiti canvases, and enjoy fresh beer at the Eighteenth Street Brewery. Guys at the bar joked that Gary was the best city on earth. Maybe it’s seen better days, but I’ve been to worse places.

Miles Today: 65

Miles to Date: 1,796

States to Date: 8

June 5, 2015 – Sunny, 75 degrees

One month on the road! It was great to start it with David Bere, who made sure I got a solid breakfast before we cycled over to Western Michigan University. David showed me around the Sustainability Center where he works and he tuned up my bike. Friday is the day David’s mother makes cookies for the Sustainability team, and we all ate awesome chocolate chip cookies.

At eleven I met with Mike Way and the Innovation Team at Bronson Healthcare. I have worked with Bronson since 1997 when they began planning the replacement hospital that opened in 2000. Now, Bronson is a national leader in community healthcare, won the 2005 Malcolm Baldridge Award, and continues to lead innovation in wellness and sustainability. We had a great round table discussion about tomorrow.

I enjoyed lunch with my good friend Vickie Nelson, my Kalamazoo counterpart at Diekema Hamann, a local architecture firm with whom I worked on several Bronson projects. Vickie’s life and my own have shared several parallel interests. She has been deeply involved in education and aid work in Guatemala, as I have in Haiti. She is retiring this week and will have more time to devote to that effort.

I didn’t leave Kalamazoo until almost three but wanted to get a few miles under my belt. When I reached Paw Paw, which had a nice little motel, I still had energy, so I kept on. But I was tired by the time I reached Hartford, a farming community that appears to be 100%Mexican. No motels in town, but, happily, an ice cream stand that sold soft serve as well as burritos.

After a short break and a generous cone, I had renewed energy. As soon as I rose out of the Hartford valley, the vineyards were lush, the lettuce fields thriving, and the air was tinged with a cool breeze. Lake Michigan was near. It was another twenty miles before I passed through Benton Harbor (a desolate place) to reach St. Joseph (a lovely place). I was hoping for vintage lakefront motels, but there were none. So I kept along Lakeshore Drive until I found a Super 8 near the highway. Not exactly a seaside hideaway. Still, it was after 8 p.m., I was tired, and happy for a clean and quiet place to stay.

Miles Today: 70

Miles to Date: 1,731

States to Date: 8

June 4, 2015 – Sunny, 75 degrees

I rose early. My warmshowers hosts left me the best sesame seed bread ever to kickstart my day, and I slipped out of their driveway shortly after six. The first twelve miles of my ride was along the Falling Waters Trial, a rail trail through dense woods and past beautiful lakes. I saw only one other cyclist, but a dozen deer. I took a local road from Concord to Albion, riding under a canopy of huge trees with rolling fields beyond me on either side. Albion is a small college town, and the outskirts are littered with offbeat, Modernist houses college professors seem to favor. Unfortunately, the historic downtown is not as interesting. Most of the storefronts are empty and though I craved a local diner for breakfast, my only option was Subway.

I pedaled on to Marshall, which proved a sharp contrast. Marshall is happening! Why do some towns founder while others thrive? Marshall’s main street is full of stores, both useful and hip. The central fountain is gorgeous, the eclectic nineteenth century architecture impressive. But most important, there are people everywhere. Downtown is the place to go.

On a whim, I stopped at the American Museum of Magic. Harry Blackstone, a famous magician, set up his summer quarters in nearby Colon, and ever since this area has been the world’s center of magicianship. Every summer over 1,000 magicians convene in Colon to trade secrets (or not) and the American Museum of Magic and its archives contain almost a million artifacts, including a 1584 Book of Sorcery (supposedly used by Shakespeare as a reference for Macbeth) as well as Houdini’s lock box and Penn & Teller’s suits. Since, as one on the text plaques states, “Magicians are paid liars – always trying to convince people something is happening when it’s not”, I enjoyed it all but didn’t take it too seriously.

Too bad I was full from my Subway meal, as Marshall is full of great looking places to eat. Still, I couldn’t resist Louie’s, a vintage 1952 bakery on Main Street. The cases were full of great looking stuff, but the entire back wall was filled with racks that I could tell, by sheer volume, held the house specialty. I ordered a nut roll, which Jessica and Wendi insisted on giving me free when they heard about my journey. Within minutes, there were six or eight people in the store, all comparing the virtues and vices of Louie’s nut rolls. As a cyclist who needs to consume many calories a day, I can tell you the virtue of this delicious sweet far exceed any vice.

The ride along Verona Road into Battle Creek was pleasant. I arrived in time for my 2 p.m. appointment with Don Scherencel, Director of Historic Adventist Village, where I learned about yet another religion birthed in upstate New York’s ‘Burnt over District’, that moved to Battle Creak and has flourished there since the Civil War. Dr. John Harvey Kellogg, health and exercise fanatic who first invented Corn Flakes (though his brother made the famous cereal company) was a Seventh Day Adventist. The Welcome Center is full of Dr. Kellogg’s exercise machines.

It was four by the time I started my final stretch to Kalamazoo. The map showed 22 miles, mostly along the Kalamazoo Rive. All true. However, the stretch was industrial, heavily trafficked and had little shoulder. Since it was late and I was tired, I took several breaks to stay centered. Luckily, there was a nice bike path for the last eight miles into Kalamazoo.

I arrived at my warmshowers host’s house a little late but none the worse. David Bere is a local 20-year-old bicycle enthusiast. Last summer he cycled 6,000 miles through the Northern U.S. and Canada. Now he works at the University of Western Michigan Center for Sustainability and vows “to never own a motorized vehicle.” It was greet to meet a young man of such passion. His mother, a native of Kalamazoo, made an incredible meal for us, and we spent a few hours looking at the photos and maps of David’s trip before heading off to bed.

Miles Today: 74

Miles to Date: 1,661

States visited to date: 8

June 3, 2015 – Sunny, 75 degrees

Today was easy riding: up at 5:30 a.m., out shortly after six, with only short breaks until I reached Jackson just after one. I pedaled a few miles along Tireman Road, the line between Dearborn and Detroit; a world of stability on one side, a world of chaos on the other. Hines Drive out of the city was closed to cars; I shared the wide, pleasant road with only a handful of other cyclists. Even after the Ann Arbor Trail merge, traffic was light and the shoulder solid. Plymouth is a beautiful town with a graceful fountain in its center. Instead of seeking out University of Michigan intelligentsia in Ann Arbor I stopped by a skateboard park and talked with the board guys. After several miles of wide highway, the road narrowed to country proportions in Jackson County. Farmland rose around me like bed sheets drying on the line. Main Street in Grass Lake is lined with elegant old houses. The tall grass outside the aptly named town billowed in the soft crosswind like waves in a shallow sea.

I spent the afternoon writing. Around five I pedaled through Jackson, past Allegiance Healthcare where I did some consulting two years ago. On that trip I dragged my companions away from highway chain restaurants to explore downtown, which was a shadow if its glory. This trip downtown is a construction zone as the city’s replacing core infrastructure. I guess I’ll have to come back in a few years to see if the massive project spurs rejuvenation.

I spent a relaxing evening with my warmshowers host family. The sun doesn’t set until past nine this time of year in Michigan. After dinner, Scott, his neighbor Jeff and I drank beer on the deck while their children ran between the backyards. We kept talking after we moved inside and Scott’s wife Karen joined us. It was past eleven when I crawled into the cozy bed tucked under the stairs in the dark and quiet basement.

A shout out to my niece Isabelle who texted me to say I should add how many states I have visited to my header – which I did. Great idea, Izzy.

Miles Today: 0

Miles to Date: 1,587

June 2, 2015 – Sunny, 65 degrees

My first rest day! I slept like a baby in Bill Basse’s old bedroom; I am getting very good at a different bed every night. My friend Bob Basse had set up a meeting with the Director of Public Information and the Sustainability Director of the City of Dearborn, where we talked about tomorrow.

Bob and I spent the afternoon on the Rouge Ford Factory Tour, where F150 pick-ups roll off the line every 60 seconds. The plant, built in 2000, is the latest addition to the famous River Rouge Assembly plant that Henry Ford opened in 1924. Whereas 100,000 people worked at River Rouge in the 1920’s, today it takes only 1000 people to assemble an F150. True, many components have been outsourced, but still, the degree of automation is impressive. Surprisingly, the most automated parts of the process as the most precise ones. Windshields are attached without human intervention; the bed is fixed to the cab mechanically; while people still snap in place interior finish panels in place.

I didn’t leave with the impression that we will all be replaced by robots so much as the realization that the amount of planning required to make those 1000 floor workers efficient is phenomenal. The logistics of material flow and coordination of parts is a wonder of this factory that’s not on display.

We got home late afternoon and enjoyed our leftover Middle Eastern food, took a few hours of downtime, and then took along walk through lovely Dearborn, including a stop at the local Middle Eastern supermarket and an incredible macaroon for dessert. I was in bed before nine, recharging to hit the road again.

Miles Today: 78

Miles to Date: 1,587

June 1, 2015 – Overcast and windy, 55 degrees

Days with 4,000 vertical feet of elevation rise are physically exhausting. Days with 400 feet of vertical elevation rise are just tedious. The trip from Elmore, OH to Dearborn, MI is so flat the only times I downshifted was to climb overpasses.

 The few creeks I crossed were full of muddy water from yesterday’s torrents

Some houses sat only inches above flooded yards.

I chuckled at Brewthrough, the most literal drive-through coffee and beer place I’ve ever seen.

Toledo was the saddest collection of aging industry and neighborhood neglect I’ve passed through to date.

Michigan didn’t offer a welcome sign, just long stretches of wide highway with marginal shoulder, thought I enjoyed the cool machine that turns old concrete into new aggregate and filters fine and course aggregate in one process.

I also had to stop to ponder this sign: would I really get my hair cut there?

Off my bike, of course, the people were terrific. The owner of Fino’s Resaturant on Monroe, MI insisted on buying my lunch. Virginia and Marietta, two elderly women having afternoon coffee at the McDonald’s in Lincoln Park were baffled by my journey. They went outside and studied my bicycle, incredulous that it would carry me so far.

I arrived in leafy Dearborn just after six. My friend Bob Basse was in front of his family home, with his brother Bill and their neighbor, Housalla ElMoussa. I wanted to visit Dearborn to explore the Muslim influx, which was everywhere evident on Middlepointe Street.

Bob took me out to Al Ameer, the best Middle Eastern food I’ve ever had. We ordered all sorts of dishes and brought enough leftovers home for a second meal tomorrow

Miles Today: 44

Miles to Date: 1,509

May 31, 2015 – Rain and wind, 50 degrees

After more than three weeks of ducking rain, my weather luck finally ran out. I slept for eleven hours in Cathy and Don Mayles’ quiet basement, and enjoyed a huge breakfast with them before heading out in a light mist about 11 a.m. Before I left they described that a friend whose son died young but donated his organs is tracking where people see this poster on trucks. If you find one, let me know and I’ll pass the news on to Cathy and Don.

The mist dissipated after I stopped by CVS for provisions, so I was hopeful for an easy ride. The stretch to Monroeville was uneventful. The rain picked up by the time I reached the decision point on the east side of town – side roads or U.S. 20. I decided to stick to the main road, which had a wide shoulder and little traffic. This proved a good decision to Bellevue, as the rain picked up and the wind started blowing hard from the northeast. I weighed all the good attributes of my ride – short distance, flat terrain, good pavement – against the rain and decided I was doing pretty well.

Beyond Bellevue I encountered some highway engineers idea of good design – a wide rumble strip down the shoulder that forced me to ride inside the white line. There was so little traffic on the four-lane road that most vehicles gave me a wide berth but a few came awfully close. Then the wind picked up hard and the rain came down harder. A few cross-gusts made my bike shiver, and for the first time on the trip I felt insecure. Once anxiety descends the chance for mishap grows, so I kept a steady focus and recalled my friend Dave Gibson’s wisdom, “You won’t always have fun, but you’ll always feel alive” I certainly felt alive, trying to keep my Surly stable against the thirty to forty mile an hour winds.

Fortunately, the next town, Clyde, had a McDonald’s where I could pull off the road for a few hours and watch the storm from indoors. When I entered the dining room, a group of bikers also seeking respite from the storm said, “Whoa, we thought we had it hard.” The rain slowed down eventually. I left after five and rode the last twenty miles to Elmore, all on one of Ohio’s great rail trails, in a list mist. The wind was still strong, but there were no other vehicles to avoid.

I arrived at my host’s home about 7:30 p.m. After a warm shower, Gordon served an incredible meal: appetizers and matzo soup, ham loaf with beets and salad, fresh pineapple and blueberries for dessert. We talked until ten and then I slept well under the big down comforter on his guest bed.

Miles Today: 62

Miles to Date: 1,465

May 30, 2015 – Sun and storms and 75 degrees

The bank time and temperature sign registered 75 degrees before 7:00 a.m. It was going to be hot one. I had a straight shot of over 60 miles on Ohio Route 18. The first ten were the usual litany of parking lots and stores, all empty on an early Saturday morning. Then the road became a nice four-laner with a wide shoulder. I worried about the lack of local color on a busy road, but it found me anyway. I stopped to chat with a guitar-carrying hitchhiker from New York and a jolly Kiwanis member picking up litter on his stretch of adopted highway. The road turned local through Medina, the birthplace of raising bees, where I came into a throng of half marathoners at the town square finish line. Medina is a vintage Mid-west town with brick storefronts facing a landscaped square of tall trees and center gazebo. The wholesome, healthy runners reinforced that image.

Beyond Medina the road became country, passing beautiful fields and dramatic cloud formations. They kept the temperature from climbing, but looked ominous enough to keep me pedaling to beat the storms. Forty miles in, on the outskirts of Wellington, I had my first flat of the trip. I limped my bicycle two blocks to a Subway, filled my belly before I tackled the repair, and spent a few hours waiting out a series of thunderstorms. How fortunate to have the flat and bad weather correspond with a welcome rest stop. When the sun shined steady again, I kept on toward Norwalk.

I detoured to see the Lincoln Funeral train car, on display courtesy of the Lake Shore railway Association. I’m pretty sure the two local train geeks would have talked to me past dark, but I extracted myself to cycle the twenty remaining miles to Norwalk. I got town just before another big thunderstorm and spent the night with Cathy and Don Mayles, my housemate’s sister-in-law’s cousins. That may not sound like a close connection, but they treated me like family, fed me well, kept a beer in my hand, and gave me a comfortable place to sleep for the night.