The Awkward Pose

June 12, 2015 – Rainy, 60 degrees

Miles Today: 34

Miles to Date: 2,110

States to Date: 11

I slept and took my time getting on the road for my short trip to Milwaukee. I wanted to see Calatrava’s Milwaukee Art Museum, and knew in advance his building was all I would see; the permanent collections were closed to renovate the old building, and the blockbuster gallery in the Calatrava building was between installations. I had a leisurely ride north along the coast, meandered into Milwaukee, and spent enough time in Calatrava’s spectacular building to appreciate its majesty and watch its brise soleil close and reopen at noon. The building is smaller than I envisioned, yet it inspires awe at every turn – a sort of nautically themed muscular masterpiece that says, “I do all the tricks of structural gymnastics because I can.”

If Chicago is the Midwest’s answer to New York, Milwaukee is more like Boston – cool and fun and more manageable. Rain began to sputter as I started pedaling through the city, so I stopped for lunch at Jimmy Johns to wait out the downpour. It was still coming down when I headed over to The Brewery, a fascinating historical reuse project at the old Pabst Brewery. The rain was steady, so Dennis Stapleton spent an hour talking to me about the project in a conference room, but it cleared in time for us to walk the site.

Calatrva wasn’t the only cool art I saw today. I also loved this house along the lake in Cudahy:

I had a bit of writing time and then headed over to my warmshowers host for the evening in New Berlin, who cycles with a parrot, Barney the biking bird!

June 10, 2015 – Sunny, 85 degrees

Miles Today: 68

Miles to Date: 2,076

States to Date: 11

2,000 miles and Wisconsin! My first time ever the Badger State.

I got up early and shipped out of Mount Prospect before traffic grew heavy. Easy riding through city streets and industrial areas and eventually smooth bike paths far north of Chicago. I was supposed to follow thirty miles of bike path north of Oak Bluff, IL, but it was gravel and shadeless so I opted to shift over to Sheridan, a more interesting street that hugs the lake coast.

Since I had a 1:00 p.m. tour time to visit Frank Lloyd Wright’s Johnson & Sons Headquarters in Racine, I didn’t dawdle. But I was going slow enough to realize a marked uptick in clubs, gin mills, and package stores in a state famous for having more bars than churches. My dad would have loved Wisconsin. The sun was hot, but north of Kenosha the road followed the lakeshore; the temperature dropped ten degrees and the breeze was delightful.

I enjoy visiting Frank Lloyd Wright buildings, but come away wondering why he disliked people so much and wishing he could have used his talents to promote human communication rather than trying to make everyone conform to his will. A control freak of the highest order that hated cities, the man did more damage to America than almost any other architect in all the way he’s promoted sprawl. In Racine, the Johnson family insisted that the headquarters remain in the city. And though the result is a magnificent piece of sculpture, it’s a fortress against the city. The tall, solid walls with clerestory tubes of glass allow wonderful light in, but prohibit views out because FLW thought the neighborhood unattractive.

Racine, WI has one of the most successful community policing programs in the country. A few days I ago I contacted the Racine Police Department to see if I might be able to talk with someone about tomorrow. I received morning call from Lt. Dave Wohlgemuth who invited me to meet at one of their COP houses at 2:30 p.m. I was overwhelmed when I arrived. The Chief of Police, Deputy Chief, former Chief (who began the program), Dave, and two other officers spent more than an hour with me discussing their approach to policing, how it has contributed to Racine’s nosedive in crime, strengthened community ties, created economic opportunity, and stabilized neighborhoods. The Biblical guidance, “Ask and ye shall receive” resounded in my head as I rode away, marveling at the incredible outpouring of insights and ideas I get by just asking for an opportunity to meet and talk.

My warmshowers host, Shane, was working late, so I took a writing break and then rode an hour north in the early evening to arrive at Oak Creek after seven. Shane grilled burgers for his three stepsons and me. He offered me beer – honey, red, or dark ale – disappeared to the garage and returned with a glass of foamy brew. I figured he had a beer fridge there. But I was deeper into Wisconsin than I realized. It turns out Shane is a serious beer maker, with a basement full of a dozen or more varieties in fermentation and a triple keg refrigerator with sidewall tap in his garage. As a beer lover from a place where beer is wine’s poor relation, I felt right at home.

June 7, 2015 – Rainy, 65 degrees

Miles Today: 38

Miles to Date: 1,895

States to Date: 10

The forecast was for rain rain, rain, so I got up and out early to try to pedal the short distance to Chicago before the storm hit. I rode through two hours of Sunday morning empty highways, railroads, distressed neighborhoods, Holiday Inn ruins, and aging industry. Everything was grey and the smell oppressive, but I enjoyed the cacophony of continuous train whistles, petroleum cracking, and my bike wheels thumping the cracked pavement.

However, pollution made incredible patterns in the water I traversed on old steel bridges.

I detoured to enjoy a sumptuous breakfast at Sunrise Family Restaurant in Whiting, IN. Since Whiting has a strong Mexican influence, I had a pair of sunny side eggs over chorizo hash and salsa in a skillet, but then added my first pancakes of the journey. By the time I finished my meal the rain came down, but I had the energy to push through.

I managed to get off track of U.S 41 and wound up coming into Chicago via Jeffrey Blvd., a really cool street that maps the city’s Southside development in reverse, from solid post-War single family houses, to duplex apartments, to 1920’s era apartment buildings, and then to Modernist apartments that are second or third generation development.

By the time I got to the bike path along Lakeshore Drive the rain had ceased. Chicago rose out of the water like an aquamarine Oz.

I enjoyed a fine lunch at a Thai restaurant in the emerging South of Loop neighborhood with my friend Abhi Ganju, a physician and artist I met at a conference several years ago. We’ve been Internet buddies ever since but it was great to catch up in person. Afterward, I spent the afternoon exploring Chicago’s Chinatown.

When I sought my warmshowers host’s house, I had to double-check the address. Bonnie lives in a modernist glass tower with remarkable city views – not the typical warmshowers venue. But she greeted me with the enthusiasm everyone on that website seems to possess. In short order we were chums, comparing the challenges of cycling over Vail Pass. Bonnie’s downstairs neighbor Ginny invited us to for supper on their deck. Bonnie brought cheese and crackers, her partner Frank supplied root beer, Ginny made poutine and her fiancé Joe (who lives in another unit in the building) grilled brats. I offered my question, which they considered a fair contribution to our impromptu party overlooking Chicago rooftops at sunset.

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.