Feel Me, Eat Me, Read Me, Listen to Me

No snow days up here, but all family in DC & NYC seem to be happily hunkered down.   I pretended I had a snow day yesterday by spending half the day in my pajamas working on my tattered nightshirt.  I'm concerned that at some point I'm going to have to rely on love alone to keep that thing together, but in the meantime I patch and hope.

I made this last week and am making this tonight.  It's a good time for hearty soups and stews.

I'm making my way through this article about Cancer Alley in Mississippi on Bitter Southerner.  My father and I rode our bikes along part of that.  I remember talking about how the factories were spoiling the landscape, and I remember being intimidated (threatened, sometimes) by the huge trucks going to and from them.

Speaking of cycling, Momentum Magazine made use of recent released digital archives from the NY Public Library to show how cigarette packs used to include tips and trading cards about cycling.  I love the illustrations!

And last but not least (but with no internet link), I started listening to Gloria Steinem's memoir My Life on the Road, read by Debra Winger, on my commute to and from work.  I've really come to love audiobooks, and this one is engaging on so many levels.

Happy Monday!

The Things I Carried

I thought it might be interesting and/or helpful if I wrote out what I brought on the trip with notes.  Questions are welcomed.

Clothing

• Five pairs of bike shorts (Sent one pair home)
• Five bike jerseys (Sent one home but acquired another on the road; one of my jerseys was a short-sleeved wool Swobo jersey, which was great in the rain, and I kept with me, but often too hot for regular wear)
• Five pairs of socks (One pair of socks never got worn)
• Three bandanas; borrowed two more from my father (Used four out of five)
• Arm and leg warmers (think cycling, not Flashdance)
• Four sport bras
• Five pair of underwear
• Half slip
• One regular bra
• Bike shoes
• Saucony running shoes (for when it rained)
• Teva sandals
• Hiking pants
• Long-sleeve merino blend active top
• "Sporty Spice' skirt (Blurr Elektra in grey)
• Shirt from Berlin Nike run
• MichFest t-shirt
• PrAna dress (yes, I brought a dress)
• Hash House Harrietts t-shirt (Sent home)
• Running shorts (Sent home)
• Hind jacket (wind/rain)
• Patagonia NanoPuff pullover
• Bathing suit (Never used; next time - black sporty underwear and a black sports bra = instant bathing suit if needed)

Sleeping Gear

• Slumberjack sleeping bag
• Sleeping bag liner
• Therma-Rest pillow
• Camping mattress (ditched the leaky Slumberjack and upgraded to a Therma-Rest on the road)

 Other

• Two small towels
• Toiletries
• Bike journal
• Notebook
• Knitting - two socks at a time, using magic loop method
• Headlamp
• "Halt" dog spray (used whistle Dad gave me, but I'd carry the spray again)
• Small bag/purse-type thing
• Ballpoint pens
• Some Emergen-C and a few Luna bars
• Cell phone
• Camera

Shared Items My Father Brought

• Tent
• Cribbage board & cards

What I Wish I'd Brought

• No surprise here - wish we'd brought a small camp stove.  I think this one is a good option in the future
• My regular journal; I tried to keep the Bike Journal readable by others, but I could've used a bit of space for my own private musings

That's all I can think of at the moment.  I'll amend if necessary.

At Home - On the Bike and Off

My dad and I rolled into Hamilton Thursday afternoon.  I finally got to ride the entire Hamilton-Brantford Rail Trail, and it was great to share it with my father.  Along the way, we encountered a group of people peering over the edge of the path and signalling us to slow down and be quiet.  We stopped, and they told us a doe had just given birth.  We got to see the fawn take its first steps - an auspicious homecoming. to say the least.

But first we had to finish our trip.  From Granville, OH, where we'd enjoyed some time off, we made our way way to Galion where we stayed at the Rainbow Motel.

Our next stop was Sandusky.  Along the way we encountered far more motorcyles than we had previously (we were also off our beloved trails - sigh).  Riding into Sandusky, we saw signs that said, "Welcome, Bikers!"  Of course we wished they were for us, but they were for the bikers coming into Sandusky for Biker Week.  What great timing!

We had five or so hours to kill before taking the ferry to Pelee Island, so we naturally parked ourselves at a bar (pictured above) where I repeatedly disabused patrons of the idea that my father was actually my "old man" and endured a few comments ( or what straight drunk men think of as compliments) about lesbians.  What great timing!?

I did love that the bar seemed to be a family affair, with this young guy washing dishes.  I think the couple behind him are his grandparents.

Eventually we boarded our ferry

and made our way to Pelee Island, Ontario.

The ferry got in a little after 10pm, and we then made our way to the campground on the other side of the island.  Thankfully there is very little traffic on the island, and it's small.  It was great riding along roads lit only by our headlights.  You don't get to safely do that very often.

The next day was basically a day off for us, so we made our way around the island.  They'd just had the Pelee Island Half Marathon the day before, but many of the runners had already left.  It's not high season yet, so a lot of things weren't open, but by stopping by one of the marinas, we found out the Canadian Legion served breakfast.   After breakfast, we were ready for our Pelee Island Winery tour.
It was actually one of the best and most informative tours either of us have taken.

Antique wine press

We took another ferry to Leamington where we had accomodations with a Warm Showers host.  Robbie is quite the athlete and bicycle tourist, having toured Chile and Patagonia this year already.  It was too bad we didn't have enough time to learn more, but maybe another time.

Being in Ontario made me feel like the trip actually had an end to it although we still had three days of riding ahead of us.  I was concerned about where we were going to stay between Leamington and Woodstock as there didn't seem to be a lot of options along the Talbot Trail, which we'd chosen as our route.  [Note:  it's not really a trail but a road.] We found a campsite via Google Maps and decided to try to make it there.  Along the way, we stopped at this great cafe and gift shop (a rare and welcomed sight along the road) - the Crazy 8 Barn.

Not only did we have a great piece of rhubarb crumble there, but we also learned that our proposed campground for the evening was to be avoided.  Thankfully, they suggested a couple of other options, and that's how we ended up at the Port Glasgow Trailer Park.  It was like a combination of Brigadoon and Cocoon - a totally charming community! (I also learned from the people at the Crazy 8 Barn that the local counties were doing a quilt trail like I'd seen in Kentucky - images of the quilt blocks we encountered are on the next page).

We were helped by a really sweet couple, Larry & Pauline, who not only showed us where we could camp but offered their hose to wash the mud off our bikes (we happened to have been on a dirt road when the brining truck came by).  Later, Larry took me on a tour in his souped-up golf cart.

They also had a snack bar (yay! dinner) and a beautiful beach on the shores of Lake Erie.

We really felt lucky to find such a great place to camp.

The next day we rode to Woodstock, and it was the longest day we've ridden - 87 miles.  We hadn't intended for it to be so long, but somehow it ended up that way.  We were also on some high-traffic roads, which made it seem even longer.  But we had a campground in Woodstock, so that should be good, right?

Wrong.  The campsite was not only ridiculously expensive ($40 to pitch a tent?) but off a main road without any nearby services.  It also felt like we were in someone's backyard (again, for $40?!).  I was deeply unhappy and asked my father to see if we could get a refund.  I figured we could take our chances in town; plus, I knew there were hotels in the vicinity, and I was willing to ride a bit more to get to a better place to stay.  It was our last night on the road, and neither of us wanted it to suck.

Thankfully we found a Quality Inn, and they really hooked us up.  It was perfect - nice room, laundry, and an attached restaurant/bar where we could watch the Rangers-Kings game (sigh).  The only thing that could've been better is the beer they served and the outcome of the game.  But I'm not complaining; just commenting.

And so, we took off the next morning and wended our way into Hamilton.  I got home a little bit after 3pm.  The ladyfriend filmed our ride down our street.   I'm sure it's amusing.  It's good to be home, and my transition to "regular" life is including a lot of cycling.  I just signed up to do a two-day ride from Lake Ontario to Lake Erie next weekend, benefiting Environment Hamilton (if you'd like to sponsor me, you can follow this link:  http://bit.ly/LakePledge), and today I carted a 40lb bag of cat litter on our city bike.  I'm just exploiting the momentum!  Ride on!

Ohio: What a Difference a Trail Makes

We have been in Ohio for the past four days, and it's been such a change from riding in Kentucky.  I don't want to sound negative about Kentucky, but it's clearly a car culture.  In Ohio, we spent 90% or so of our first day of riding (60+ miles) and 85% or so of our second day of riding (another 60 miles) on a rail trail.  It was pretty much riding heaven.

We also saw a lot of wildlife (as opposed to roadkill) on the trail, including bunnies, snakes, tons of birds, and this fawn -

I'd seen the fawn in the distance but couldn't figure out what it was.  My father's answer was, "A chihuahua on stilts."  Yes, I have built-in comedy on this trip.

I also saw a few memorials along the trail.  A couple of them seemed to be for people who had biked and loved the trail, and this one served as a warning -

Even trails are not free from danger, and it was a good reminder to check for cars when the trail crossed roads.

One of the things that happens when you do this kind of ride is that you meet a lot of people.  Some people are just kind of dumbfounded that we're doing this.  There were four women in a Wendy's (I will be swearing off fast food for at least a year after I'm done with this trip) that I felt viewed me as a circus freak.  As the ladyfriend pointed out, this must be the way our son feels when people quiz him about his piercings and tattoos.  I try to be friendlier than I'm inclined to be.  So I smile and act nice.

But then there are those people who want to talk about your trip and their own biking and travels, who are great.  We had a guy come up to us in Kentucky who was going to do the Underground Railroad route with his sons and was out for the day doing a shorter ride.  We had another cyclist turn around to come talk to us about touring, and there was the 81-year man (who I helped reseat his rear tire) who had just taken up cycling the year before.  How amazing is that?  It flew in the face of all the other people who have said things like, "I'm too old; have a bad knee/hip/back/attitude; can't, won't, etc."  We're not out to make people feel bad, but don't expect us to say, "Oh yeah.  Sure.  You're absolved of having to be physically active at all."  Okay, that sounded a little harsh, but hopefully you know what I mean.

Kentucky or The Hills Are Alive, And They're Trying to Kill Us

The last few days of cycling have been rather epic.  One might describe the hills of Kentucky as "rolling" if they are in a car, but on a bike they have been more like mountains.  And relentless.  Here are the elevation profile for the past three days:

On this last one, the final hill was two miles long.  Yes, the hills have been trying to kill us.  But we're onto Ohio and somewhat flatter land.  Yay!  And we're getting on bike trails, so no cars that don't want to give us space.

Speaking of which, I'm thinking about starting a website where cyclists can put the license plate numbers of cars that have crowded or been jerks to them.  Here are three for my father and me:  Ohio vanity plate - HUDLER (I'm pretty certain- definitely HUD..) (too close); Kentucky plate - 117PTP (too close); Kentucky plate - 625BKP (cut me off).   Sure, you may never encounter these people, and they'll probably never know that I've publicly outed them as assholes, but it's the thought that counts, right?

However, it wasn't all hills and bad drivers or dogs that wanted to take a chunk out of my calf, there was some beautiful scenery and these quilt squares on random houses, barns, and buildings all through the state.  It's the Kentucky Quilt Trail, and I took photos of all but three (two I saw before I realized it was a thing, and one I wasn't that into).  They have a map of the state with all the quilt squares here.

You can continue on for the rest of the squares, but before I close, I have a low-brow (another?!) moment.  If I hadn't take a photo of this, my friends would never have forgiven me:

Corvettes, Caves, and Bourbon

We left Bowling Green and made our way deeper into Kentucky.  Robert, our Warm Showers host, rode with us for awhile and came to the Corvette Museum with us.  My dad and I were pretty much just interested in the older models.

But look! Schwimm Corvette bikes!  Check out the brake cable on the one in front.

Even Corvettes, in museums, get flat tires.  I don't think it was part of the display because we saw a number of other cars with flat to semi-flat tires.

In February of this year, a sinkhole destroyed a number of cars displayed in the museum's skydome.  Kentucky & Tennessee have a lot of sinkholes.  It's kind of funny, if you ask me.   You can watch the security camera footage of the sinkhole here.

They pulled the cars from wreckage and put them on display.  These are just a couple to give you an idea.

Robert rode away shortly thereafter,  and my father and I continued our ride.  It was hot and hilly, and we were quite happy to come across this place for lunch -

Yes, there is a place called Pig, Kentucky.  And the Porky Pig Diner had one of the best catfish sandwiches I've had yet.

It was a touring day.   We'd planned on being able to stop and check things out along the way, and when we got to Mammoth Cave National Park, we decided to take the two-hour Domes & Dripstones tour.  Our planning was great as it started to rain just as we headed underground.  We went down about 258 feet below the surface and got to see a number of great caves and passageways.  It was a great tour.

It would've been a great end to the day, but we had a bit more riding to do to get to Bardstown - the bourbon capital of the world!!!!  Unfortunately, we encountered another Corvette along the way, one that passed us three times, the third time giving us barely 6 inches of space.  A red Corvette with a Florida license plate - I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

We rode into town and made a beeline for the Heaven Hill Distillery.  I thought we'd gotten there with plenty of time, but I didn't realize we'd switched time zones!  I hate to say it, but I sulked a bit throughout the display center because a) we couldn't take a tour (and this was my only chance to visit a bourbon distillery on this trip) and b) you couldn't taste anything without a tour.  Okay, I say I sulked, but the woman from a couple we talked to said I was pissed.  I know, sulking is not great, but I was actually really depressed.  Thankfully one of the employees felt my deep, deep sadness and gave us a sample (of the most expensive bottle - $400).  Then my dad bought me a bottle of bourbon that can only be gotten at Heaven Hill, and I bought a cheaper one to share - hah!  

The Natchez Trace Parkway: A Few Thoughts on Its Bike Friendliness

Before we move onto our next adventure getting out of Nashville and on to Bowling Green, KY, I wanted to note a few things about the bike friendliness of the Natchez Trace.  They really sell it as a great place to bike, and in general, it is.  However, there are some things you should know if you're doing a self-supported trip.  There are only three full-service (with running water) campgrounds on the entire Trace and a scant five bike primitive campsites that, as noted before, are not clearly marked.  Also, they should tell you to bring your own food...unless you really want to add miles to your trip.

Water along the Trace can also be an issue.  There are a few additional places besides the full-service campgrounds to get water, but if you don't plan correctly, you could be drinking water you've purified from a Mississippi stream (as our friend Julian had to).  Sorry, but the water in Mississippi was pretty brackish.

Finally, in the section where the drivers are most aggressive (Tupelo), there are no signs indicating that it is state law that drivers give cyclists three feet of room.  You'd think that if it were a problem area, they'd try to make it better for cyclists.  There weren't many Park Rangers driving about, which could help slow some of the drivers, and the few cops I saw were speeding along themselves, without lights ablazing, so I didn't think they were there to make the roads safer for us.

Yet despite all this, it was a really beautiful and pleasant ride.  All the Park Rangers that we spoke with were quite friendly and helpful.  We even got a bike story from one of them.  It's worth the trip, but forewarned is forearmed.

Nashville: Where Claudia & John Get a Day Off

It was time for a day off.   Last night we got to watch the Rangers-Montreal game (I'm soooo excited!!!!!) and caught up on laundry.  Today we took care of our bikes, bodies, and business and then headed downtown.

First stop was lunch at Puckett's Grocery & Restaurant.  I finally got a hot chicken sandwich, which was pretty damn tasty, and had a great beer - Good People IPA from Birmingham, Alabama.

Then I took my dad to the Country Music Hall of Fame.  The ladyfriend and I had gone when we'd come to Nashville a few years ago, but we got there late and couldn't take the whole thing in.  So this time my dad and I made the time to go downtown and check it out.

You can never have have too many hats, gloves, and shoes

Those are some steppy outfits!

I could wear this.

Thought this was a nice take on the bike rack although I'm still not convinced that Nashville is really bike-friendly.

And then, we came back to our home base, and I made dinner.  It was the perfect way to end the day.  Tomorrow, onto Bowling Green, Kentucky.

Natchez Trace: May 19th or This Is What It Sounds Like When Quads Cry

Our last day on the Trace - it was foggy and cool in the morning, but it quickly cleared up and turned sunny and warm.

It was mostly a riding day, with lots of hills.  I really put the quads to the test, and thankfully, they didn't fail me...although they hurt a little.  I guess that's to be expected.

Elementary school kids on an annual death march, I mean, fun walk.

Not even on the map!  War of 1812 Memorial .   Amazingly well-written and error-free!

The view from the double arch bridge, where we didn't see the double arches; I think they were saved for the drivers below.  Typical.

A bummer was that there was no 444 mile marker at the end of the Trace; in fact, there was no sign at the actual end of the Trace, it just dumped you onto a highway.  A sign signifying drivers from the north were entering the Trace was some four to five miles in already.  A bit anticlimactic, if you ask me  (Oh National Park Service, please ask me what I think.  Please.)

So I took a photo of this marker, just off the Trace and on the highway...

...in the wrong direction, which my father took us for 2.5 miles.  Yes, an additional 5 miles - just for fun.  I don't know if that was what Faye had in mind when she thought our trip was going to be a great father-daughter experience.  It was pointless to be mad for too long; we just ground our way through some ass-traffic on Highway 100.  Sure, the signs said "Share the road," but the drivers said, "Not interested."  Eventually, though, we got to my friends' place in Nashville (had to find the greenway/bike route between a Target and a Steinmart - nice!) and off our bikes.  The Trace portion of the program is over.  Onto the next portion - stay tuned!

Natchez Trace: May 18th or The First Rule of Bike Camping Is You Don't Talk About Bike Camping

Our motel from the night before

Chad's Restaurant

Sleeping indoors is definitely not overrated, especially if one has endured a number of nights, and mornings, in the rain.  And while it was drizzling Sunday morning, the weather forecast called for clearing skies.

We'd gone to Chad's the night before (remember?  I had the chicken fried steak - still sticking to only one fried meal a day, thank you very much) and as they weren't open Sunday mornings we asked if they might suggest a place for breakfast.  Well, Faye, who happens to be Chad's mom, offered to let us come in for breakfast while she prepared for Sunday lunch.  Really?!  We went over there Sunday morning, and she made eggs and sausage for us.   It was really nice, and then, after we paid and were going to leave, she said something really nice about how she could tell this was a good father-daughter trip.  (I believe I'd set the record straight, as it were, that I was not his peppy younger wife.) Great way to start the day!

The day did turn out to be sunny but with a cool breeze, which was perfect for cycling.  We stopped at the Meriwether Lewis campground and checked out the memorial to him.   There's a "mysterious death" story here, but I haven't gone on to research it.

My BBQ sandwich with some of the best fried okra I've encountered - definitely freshly made.

The trading post - where we had lunch.

Sunday was also the day the road stopped being pretty flat.  In fact, one hill nearly kicked our asses.  Thankfully, halfway up there was a scenic stop.  Yay!  Reason to get off the bike.

Fall Hollow was really nice and gave us a chance to rest our legs.  For the record, it was a mile long hill at a 13 degree grade.   Just sayin'.

Over the past week I've seen a lot of different animals.  Early on it was snakes (mostly dead on the road), and then turtles, lots of birds (cardinals,  blue jays, and these small indigo/purple-winged things - clearly, I'm not a birder), plus wild turkeys, a few deer, and a quail with chicks.  I'd also seen a number of dead armadillos, but then, I saw these -

live, little armadillos just rooting around the leaves.  I have to say, they were pretty damn cute.  The next day a woman at the gas station (mmm, mmm, good) said they carried leprosy.  Not so sure about that.

Finally it was time to set up camp.  Here's something that's a bit tedious about the Trace and its "bike friendliness."  There is a scattering of "bike primitive campsites" (meaning you can pitch a tent, but don't expect a bathroom other than the great outdoors itself) designated with a bike symbol on the map, but the symbol never appears on any of the signage on the parkway itself.  It's kind of like a club - if you don't already know about it, you won't find it.  Thankfully we found ours that night - it was off the Trace, but at least it was there.

Where we spent our last night on the Trace.

And since I know you're waiting for it - here are Sunday's grammar issues:

Care to add a few commas for clarity and flow?

One of my biggest pet peeves - the comma splice!