Day 2, West Lafayette, IN to New Carlisle, OH, 180 miles (kind of)
The face of... pleasure? pain? I honestly can't remember
Ok as promised, I am blogging about day two in a more
timely manner than I blogged about day one.
My current goal is write at least one post each week, and if possible,
more.
Even though day one had been successful, I knew that day
two would be much more challenging for several reasons. The first reason was the obvious fact that my
legs and lungs would not be as fresh or well rested. The second was the fact that the mileage
would be much longer, around 180 miles, from West Lafayette, IN to New Carlisle, OH (near Dayton).
Plus whereas the miles on day one had included a good chunk of riding
through Chicago and some good bike paths, I knew that day two would include
mostly nothing but cornfields.
Despite these difficulties, I was still optimistic
because unlike the 4K, I was heading west to east rather than east to
west. As anyone who has ever biked
directly against the wind knows, having the wind on your side makes a huge
difference and makes everything much easier.
I’ll never forget Nebraska (for a number of reasons), when at times
biking 10 miles an hour seemed incredibly difficult, but as soon as you changed
direction and had the wind helping you, biking 25 miles an hour took almost no effort
at all. My hope was that I would have
the wind on my side, so maybe I could average at least 15 or even 20 miles an
hour comfortably, speeds which would allow me to cover 180 miles in about 9-12
hours. Start riding around 6AM, and with
water and lunch breaks, arrive no later than 8PM. I concede that it was ambitious and if in the
future I go on a similar ride I’m not certain I would be willing to plan it the
same way. But I suppose I was still riding the high from the 4K and at the time
thought that it was going to work more or less… I mean come on, the plan was to
leave at 6AM on my bicycle and stay on it until 8PM… what could possibly going
wrong?
Plus I had an amazing start to the morning because my
wonderful Caity Schram not only woke up at 5AM on a SATURDAY to see me off, but
also made me a fantastic breakfast. Could she have been a better host? I think not. I nominate that 4K go through West Lafayette, IN next year and some thirty
riders pile into her house.
Unfortunately only an hour or two into my ride, I ran into a terrible headwind which would persist more or less through the entire day. Curious (aka pissed off) that the wind was actually blowing east to west and wondering where it had been during the 4K, I struggled to keep a pace of 15 miles an hour. Before I left Chicago, I had naively wondered if the abundant cornfields would protect me, but alas had no such luck. Apparently despite years of genetic modification by Monsanto, American corn is still not tall or thick enough to protect cyclists from the wind. So now I am issuing my challenge to Monsanto and other American bio-engineering companies to create even taller and thicker corn...
So there I was, probably less than 30 miles into 180 mile day, frustrated and dare I say even feeling defeated. It's a good thing that I had such amazing people supporting me. As soon as I vented a bit about how difficult the start of the day was, I received numerous messages of encouragement. In fact I received so many of them (ooh keep bragging about how popular you are) that my phone battery was being drained and I had to put my phone on airplane mode for a bit. But the point is that without these messages, it would have been much more difficult for me to continue. It seemed like at the end of every hour, when the headwind had sapped all of my strength from me, I would look at my phone and see a message that encouraged me to keep my cadence up.
I stopped to stock up on some food in Kokomo, IN. Maybe it seems a bit silly, but I will admit that part of the reason I love long distance biking is because I get to write sentences like that. If you were driving from Chicago to Ohio, you would never stop in a town like that, far away from the interstate. I had a really nice conversation with some ladies who worked at the CVS. They asked me where I was going, and of course as soon as I answered proceeded to tell me that I was insane. They were a nice change from the people that I had so far encountered on my trip. Granted I probably looked really strange to them, wearing super tight shorts with weird padding on my butt and an equally tight cycling jersey and strange blue shoes But most of the people that I had so far encountered had looked at me like I was some kind of an alien, so it was nice to meet people that realized that I was more or less a normal human being (despite what my friends might claim)
I continued, struggling against the wind but doing my absolute best to stay optimistic, knowing that there was a bike path coming up soon. It was very tough for me to ride over a hundred miles with not much to entertain me besides corn, since it turns out that in addition to not be able to protect cyclists from the wind, corn is equally incapable of being good company.
Unfortunately, just a few miles into the Cardinal Greenway, I had one of the lowest points of the entire trip and a grim reminder of how dangerous cycling can be. An Indiana park volunteer warmed me that just a couple of miles down the path, a cyclist who had not checked for traffic as he crossed over a road had been struck and killed.
I said I would be very careful, but my mind just went numb because I didn't want to think about it, and the truth is that I more or less repressed it until much later. Another cyclist killed, another stern warning of the dangers of cycling. From time to time I think about how insane of a machine a bicycle really is - a bunch of pieces of metal and rubber held together, resting on tires usually less than an inch wide, as you dive down the side of a mountain at 50 miles per hour. Add to this insanity bad weather and reckless drivers and I can't help but feel like there is something wrong with me for loving cycling so much.
It didn't help that a few miles down the path, as I crossed the road, I saw an ambulance driving away in the distance. I suppose I can't be certain that it was the ambulance, but to me that seems like wishful thinking. I know that it's most likely that the ambulance I saw was the ambulance, taking away the dead cyclist.
I just looked at pictures of the accident site. I won't post the link, but it's easy enough to find with the name Cardinal Greenway. The first thoughts I have are that the pictures don't look so different from what I remember from Jamie's accident. The ambulance, the mangled wheel, the numerous emergency responders standing around, for them more or less another day of work.
As if the last few paragraphs don't tell you enough, even now I can't help but wonder if I am some kind of damaged cyclist. Each time that I end up rerouting or avoiding a road because I feel that it's not safe, I can't help but wonder whether the road is actually unsafe, or I'm just too sensitive. I see other cyclists riding on roads I would deem unsafe, but they feel perfectly safe and secure. Of course I've heard of cyclists being killed before, but Jamie's accident and death was the first time it was made so incredibly real for me. I'm sure in my lifetime I've (unfortunately) seen many photos of cycling accidents, but I know it will never be the same again. I can't help but wonder if from this point on, every accident photo will take me right back to Jamie's accident. This is in spite of the fact that I know it might end up being a self-fulfilling prophecy.
At least the rest of the day ended well. Not at all how I had planned, but even still when I think about it now, I'm grateful for the way it went. I continued on the Cardinal Greenway, given a bit of relief by the presence of real trees (vs only corn), which blocked more of the wind, as well as provided something a bit more interesting to look at.
Apparently this substitution of trees for corn may have been a bit too much of a relief. I was supposed to turn off of the Cardinal Greenway about about 25 miles before it ended, but I zoned out and ended up riding it all the way to the end. OOPS. By the time I figured out what had happened, I was way off course and had added a bunch of extra miles to the day. I don't remember the exact figure, but I think I somehow added about 25 miles to the day. 25 extra miles are always tough, but especially tough on a day that is already 180 miles. Plus now that I was way off course, I really had no clue about the terrain or the most important thing, which was the safety of the route. So in the end I called my hosts for the night, Brian and Lori "Sunpatch" Byg, the parents of one incorrigible Blaire "Zuccini Blah" Byg (former roommate / fellow avocado enthusiast).
After much texting, they found me on a backroad in the dark, hungry, tired, and simultaneously feeling defeated and angry at myself. At this point you might be wondering what I mean by "at least the rest of the day ended well." So far I had gotten lost and forced my hosts for the night to drive out of their way and find me. Well, yes that part of the rest of the day obviously sucked. But what was amazing was how incredibly kind Brian and Lori were when they picked me up.
The fact that they had to drive out to pick me up didn't seem to have phased them at all. Instead of asking me how I could have been so dumb (seriously), they were just happy to see me and that I had made it thus far. Their kindness and graciousness restored me immediately and I found myself feeling more optimistic. I know in the last post I already had a rant about how amazing my hosts for the first night were (Caitlin and Jin), but I think it would be unjust to not have a rant about how amazing Brian and Lori are as well.
As all 4K alums know all too well, there is definitely a 4K withdrawl period. A period of time during which everything in the non 4K world seems less meaningful or perhaps even pointless. During this time, you lament the fact that you aren't on your bike, constantly surrounded by your teammates. You wonder if real life will ever be quite as good as the 4K, and if you're a super duper 4K addict, whether you'll ever be happy again.
It's pretty obvious that I fall into that super duper 4K addict category, seeing as I've done everything in my power to avoid returning to normal life. After the 4K, I hung around Chicago for about 4 weeks, then took off on this crazy bike ride across the Midwest by myself. Then I couchsurfed with friends up and down the East Coast for two weeks, before flying off to Europe. However, as glorious and glamorous all that might seem, the truth is that it has been also really tough. As grateful I am to have this amazing opportunity to continue the adventurous spirit of the 4K, "normal" life has caught up to me. It turns out that despite what some of us in America might think, even if you live in Europe, you have to lead more or less a "normal" life.
Perhaps you think you can escape normal life by having the most exciting life ever. Maybe you can work as a skydiving instructor, then a firefighter, then a safari guide, and so on. Maybe you could figure out a way to keep the adrenaline high at all times. But isn't there something equally sad about not being appreciate life for what it is, even if sometimes it is simple and not super duper exciting? Isn't there something really sad about always needing the next fix for adventure and not being able to appreciate and give thanks for what you already have? This is my post 4K dilemma, of always needing the next adventure fix and yet wanting to fully appreciate daily life.
But back to the Brian and Lori. I've known them for over four years now, and every time I see them or Blaire tells me something about them, I can't help but have the feeling that they have conquered this dilemma. They seem to be able to go about their everyday lives and yet not neglect nurturing their sense of adventure, something I think at this moment I'm not really able to do. I always hear from Blaire that they are off at some festival or concert or beer this or wherever they were on day two of my ride that they had a meat pie for me in the car when they picked me up. And hey, they offered to host me not once, but twice during my ride... that has to count as an adventure in itself right??? Cuz I'm so exciting??!!
Brian and Lori, if you read this, what I trying but failing to say adequately is that the two of you give me hope for my own future, and for the future of everyone else who might suffer from post 4K crises of identity. I mean it when I say that whenever I feel upset about the fact that I am being forced to resume everyday life, I can always think of the two of you. I can think of how you not only combine everyday life with an adventurous spirit, but also obtain joy and pleasure from everyday life itself. When I think about life five, ten, twenty years in the future, I know that if I have your spirit and appreciation for life, I will be okay. In fact, I will be better than okay. I will be great, no matter where I am, no matter what I am doing. So thank you, not only for hosting me for two days, but giving me hope and guidance in life. As was said between me and your daughter a few days after I finished my ride, you are truly amazing people.
In addition to the previously mentioned meat pie, they had lasagna for me at the house. And drinks of every kind, including great beer. And lasagna at the house. And drinks of every kind, including beer. Pretty much everything I needed and more, including what was essentially my own apartment, complete with a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living area with TV.
I stopped to stock up on some food in Kokomo, IN. Maybe it seems a bit silly, but I will admit that part of the reason I love long distance biking is because I get to write sentences like that. If you were driving from Chicago to Ohio, you would never stop in a town like that, far away from the interstate. I had a really nice conversation with some ladies who worked at the CVS. They asked me where I was going, and of course as soon as I answered proceeded to tell me that I was insane. They were a nice change from the people that I had so far encountered on my trip. Granted I probably looked really strange to them, wearing super tight shorts with weird padding on my butt and an equally tight cycling jersey and strange blue shoes But most of the people that I had so far encountered had looked at me like I was some kind of an alien, so it was nice to meet people that realized that I was more or less a normal human being (despite what my friends might claim)
Not from this ride, but the 4K. I ask you, what about my appearance is so weird? The untamed hair? The bright safety vest? The pirate bandanna around my neck? My scowl?
I continued, struggling against the wind but doing my absolute best to stay optimistic, knowing that there was a bike path coming up soon. It was very tough for me to ride over a hundred miles with not much to entertain me besides corn, since it turns out that in addition to not be able to protect cyclists from the wind, corn is equally incapable of being good company.
Unfortunately, just a few miles into the Cardinal Greenway, I had one of the lowest points of the entire trip and a grim reminder of how dangerous cycling can be. An Indiana park volunteer warmed me that just a couple of miles down the path, a cyclist who had not checked for traffic as he crossed over a road had been struck and killed.
I said I would be very careful, but my mind just went numb because I didn't want to think about it, and the truth is that I more or less repressed it until much later. Another cyclist killed, another stern warning of the dangers of cycling. From time to time I think about how insane of a machine a bicycle really is - a bunch of pieces of metal and rubber held together, resting on tires usually less than an inch wide, as you dive down the side of a mountain at 50 miles per hour. Add to this insanity bad weather and reckless drivers and I can't help but feel like there is something wrong with me for loving cycling so much.
It didn't help that a few miles down the path, as I crossed the road, I saw an ambulance driving away in the distance. I suppose I can't be certain that it was the ambulance, but to me that seems like wishful thinking. I know that it's most likely that the ambulance I saw was the ambulance, taking away the dead cyclist.
I just looked at pictures of the accident site. I won't post the link, but it's easy enough to find with the name Cardinal Greenway. The first thoughts I have are that the pictures don't look so different from what I remember from Jamie's accident. The ambulance, the mangled wheel, the numerous emergency responders standing around, for them more or less another day of work.
As if the last few paragraphs don't tell you enough, even now I can't help but wonder if I am some kind of damaged cyclist. Each time that I end up rerouting or avoiding a road because I feel that it's not safe, I can't help but wonder whether the road is actually unsafe, or I'm just too sensitive. I see other cyclists riding on roads I would deem unsafe, but they feel perfectly safe and secure. Of course I've heard of cyclists being killed before, but Jamie's accident and death was the first time it was made so incredibly real for me. I'm sure in my lifetime I've (unfortunately) seen many photos of cycling accidents, but I know it will never be the same again. I can't help but wonder if from this point on, every accident photo will take me right back to Jamie's accident. This is in spite of the fact that I know it might end up being a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Jamie I miss you more than any words could say
At least the rest of the day ended well. Not at all how I had planned, but even still when I think about it now, I'm grateful for the way it went. I continued on the Cardinal Greenway, given a bit of relief by the presence of real trees (vs only corn), which blocked more of the wind, as well as provided something a bit more interesting to look at.
Apparently this substitution of trees for corn may have been a bit too much of a relief. I was supposed to turn off of the Cardinal Greenway about about 25 miles before it ended, but I zoned out and ended up riding it all the way to the end. OOPS. By the time I figured out what had happened, I was way off course and had added a bunch of extra miles to the day. I don't remember the exact figure, but I think I somehow added about 25 miles to the day. 25 extra miles are always tough, but especially tough on a day that is already 180 miles. Plus now that I was way off course, I really had no clue about the terrain or the most important thing, which was the safety of the route. So in the end I called my hosts for the night, Brian and Lori "Sunpatch" Byg, the parents of one incorrigible Blaire "Zuccini Blah" Byg (former roommate / fellow avocado enthusiast).
After much texting, they found me on a backroad in the dark, hungry, tired, and simultaneously feeling defeated and angry at myself. At this point you might be wondering what I mean by "at least the rest of the day ended well." So far I had gotten lost and forced my hosts for the night to drive out of their way and find me. Well, yes that part of the rest of the day obviously sucked. But what was amazing was how incredibly kind Brian and Lori were when they picked me up.
The fact that they had to drive out to pick me up didn't seem to have phased them at all. Instead of asking me how I could have been so dumb (seriously), they were just happy to see me and that I had made it thus far. Their kindness and graciousness restored me immediately and I found myself feeling more optimistic. I know in the last post I already had a rant about how amazing my hosts for the first night were (Caitlin and Jin), but I think it would be unjust to not have a rant about how amazing Brian and Lori are as well.
As all 4K alums know all too well, there is definitely a 4K withdrawl period. A period of time during which everything in the non 4K world seems less meaningful or perhaps even pointless. During this time, you lament the fact that you aren't on your bike, constantly surrounded by your teammates. You wonder if real life will ever be quite as good as the 4K, and if you're a super duper 4K addict, whether you'll ever be happy again.
It's pretty obvious that I fall into that super duper 4K addict category, seeing as I've done everything in my power to avoid returning to normal life. After the 4K, I hung around Chicago for about 4 weeks, then took off on this crazy bike ride across the Midwest by myself. Then I couchsurfed with friends up and down the East Coast for two weeks, before flying off to Europe. However, as glorious and glamorous all that might seem, the truth is that it has been also really tough. As grateful I am to have this amazing opportunity to continue the adventurous spirit of the 4K, "normal" life has caught up to me. It turns out that despite what some of us in America might think, even if you live in Europe, you have to lead more or less a "normal" life.
Perhaps you think you can escape normal life by having the most exciting life ever. Maybe you can work as a skydiving instructor, then a firefighter, then a safari guide, and so on. Maybe you could figure out a way to keep the adrenaline high at all times. But isn't there something equally sad about not being appreciate life for what it is, even if sometimes it is simple and not super duper exciting? Isn't there something really sad about always needing the next fix for adventure and not being able to appreciate and give thanks for what you already have? This is my post 4K dilemma, of always needing the next adventure fix and yet wanting to fully appreciate daily life.
"Can you tell marketing I'll probably have to reschedule this afternoon's meeting?"
But back to the Brian and Lori. I've known them for over four years now, and every time I see them or Blaire tells me something about them, I can't help but have the feeling that they have conquered this dilemma. They seem to be able to go about their everyday lives and yet not neglect nurturing their sense of adventure, something I think at this moment I'm not really able to do. I always hear from Blaire that they are off at some festival or concert or beer this or wherever they were on day two of my ride that they had a meat pie for me in the car when they picked me up. And hey, they offered to host me not once, but twice during my ride... that has to count as an adventure in itself right??? Cuz I'm so exciting??!!
Brian and Lori, if you read this, what I trying but failing to say adequately is that the two of you give me hope for my own future, and for the future of everyone else who might suffer from post 4K crises of identity. I mean it when I say that whenever I feel upset about the fact that I am being forced to resume everyday life, I can always think of the two of you. I can think of how you not only combine everyday life with an adventurous spirit, but also obtain joy and pleasure from everyday life itself. When I think about life five, ten, twenty years in the future, I know that if I have your spirit and appreciation for life, I will be okay. In fact, I will be better than okay. I will be great, no matter where I am, no matter what I am doing. So thank you, not only for hosting me for two days, but giving me hope and guidance in life. As was said between me and your daughter a few days after I finished my ride, you are truly amazing people.
selfie with Lori and Brian, fantastic people
In addition to the previously mentioned meat pie, they had lasagna for me at the house. And drinks of every kind, including great beer. And lasagna at the house. And drinks of every kind, including beer. Pretty much everything I needed and more, including what was essentially my own apartment, complete with a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living area with TV.
Byg Hotel
The concierge of Byg Hotel, the very very friendly Ava (sorry about the bad pic but I promise she is the sweetest of dogs)
I hope it's clear what I meant when I wrote earlier that the rest of the day went well, despite nothing going according to plan. It's funny, during the 4K I realized over and over again that biking was a much smaller part of the journey than the people we met along the way. I can't help myself from saying the same right now. I might have been disappointed that I wasn't able to finish the mileage that day, but I take comfort in the knowledge that years down the road, when I look back at day two of this trip, what I'll remember and cherish the most isn't the miles, but the wonderful time I got to spend with my hosts.
Mileage for the day, taken the next morning
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