The day is done. 5:15 and we’re at Mongo, IN. 61.2 miles of riding today with a max speed of 28.6 mph.
This morning, using our high tech equipment with us, Carlin and I determined that the rain in Archbold, OH would stop about 11:00 A.M. and remain stopped until about 5:00 P.M. in Mongo, IN. So we opted to delay our usual pre-dawn start (yeah right) until the window of dryness (that’s a meteorological term) would open. As I was preparing the riding machine for the day’s venture the inquisitive senior citizens at the Sauder Village (I’m not senior yet) spotted the Little Guy and so once again the tours began along with stories of their children, grandchildren, inlaws,.... So then I started riding about 2:00 P.M. No just kidding. It’s always delightful to talk with the strangers that are initially drawn to the Little Guy but then are so willing to tell their life story to a perfect stranger. So, really, as I ever so gently placed myself on the riding implement at 11:15 A.M. IT BEGAN TO RAIN!!!!! And so it continued for the next 20 miles. The rain jacket wasn’t cutting it so out came the big red poncho that hasn’t been used since Tom Gouterman abandoned me to fend for myself. But westward I had to move even though the big red poncho slowed me down by about 3 mph.
The plans this morning got adjusted when Carlin and I were scrutinizing the maps for the day. She was concerned that the route I had chosen took us through Angola. As I’ve related before, Carlin and I have a tough time getting through the more sizeable towns without losing contact with each other, getting lost or detoured. So, if we can avoid the towns, we do. So the route got adjusted to go way into the backroads. We didn’t know how backroads we would be until we got out there. But isn’t that the nature of adventure - responding to the unforeseen and unpredictable, experiencing new things without falling apart? So today, two new features: 1) Clay and gravel roads, and 2) Flooding streams and roadways.
I was hoping for a "Welcome to Indiana" sign but since I was riding a clay and gravel road there was no welcome to Indiana, there wasn't even asphalt. The only way that I knew that I was in Indiana was when I spotted some Hoosiers running around.
Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to put my safety in jeopardy. And we survived the day OK (OK Mom). But, as I rode the beautiful Ohio backroads on the way towards Indiana there were signs warning of high water. And indeed, through my fogged and water covered glasses, I could well perceive water rising on either side of the road but not onto the road. So, what the heck, I’ll keep on going. Oh, look that stream is rising to just below the bridge deck. I’ve never seen that before. The water is coming across the road. I think I’ll ride through it. I survived. I don’t think I was too reckless. It’s part of the adventure. I don’t want to be overly dramatic but I saw this guy who looked like Noah running along with animals behind him. Two by two of course with only two of each species.
We didn’t stop for lunch today because we didn’t go through any towns. The rain had stopped after 20 miles of riding so I caught up with Carlin, broke out our supply of nutritious food stocks and replenished my dwindling glycogen. We waved goodbye to Noah as the rain subsided and the water ebbed away from the road.
Eventually, we arrived at the campground that I had made reservations at. But, with all of the water, we had been experiencing, more like being inundated by, mosquitos all day. So Carlin asked the clerk at the Wet & Soggy Campground if they’ve had any problems with the mosquitos. In a very lawyerly response, the clerk responded that she had not heard any complaints about the mosquitos. As we would later find out, she hadn’t heard any complaints about the mosquitos because there were so many of them that they carried the campers away. Upon arrival at our campsite we noticed out of the sides of our eyes that the creek that runs right next to the campground was about 15 feet over its banks and moving rather quickly. We noted that to the clerk of the Wet & Soggy campground and that we’d head to town and get a motel room. Good move. Another delightful night of warmth and civilization.
Tomorrow is the trip to Notre Dame. Marist Graduate and Board President, Gerald Beeson, will be joining me for the day. He’s a much younger man than I. I hope I can keep up with him after being beaten up these last many days on the saddle of the cycling implement. When we arrive at Notre Dame I’ll be joined by family, friends, and members of the Marist community. It will be most welcome by both Carlin and I.
Br. Hank has commented that the trip is a bit of a metaphor of life. Indeed it is in so many respects. For one thing, if I had my choice, every day would be 1,000 to 2,000 feet of climb, the weather would be 80 - 90 degrees, the wind would always be at my back, I would have no aches or pains, I would always have a friend or two or three to ride with, there would be no dogs chasing me..... But alas that’s not the way it is. If I were to wait for the perfect conditions, there would be very few days to ride. And so it is with life, Don’t we all have many days with lots of climb, weather too cold, weather too hot, loneliness, challenge, fear, and yet we do it. We have a goal and we go for it despite the odds. At Marist we ask for a little help through our faith and pray to St. Marcellin Champagnat, Mary our Good Mother, and don’t we always pray for each other. And so, the rainy and cold days of life are workable and we enjoy the warm, sunny days all the more and use those good days to help the least amongst us.
As I draw to the end of this ride I’ll tell you what motivates me to continue on and to accomplish the goal of 1,000+ miles from Esopus to Chicago. I had related to others earlier on that when I reflect on Marist I know that we all, we members of the Marist community, have many experiences at Marist, but I truly believe that we all have special moments at Marist that shape what we will become and who we will be. But it requires great sacrifice of our families to provide for a Marist education. Sometimes the burden is overwhelming. Isn’t it for all of us to do what we can so that our youngest members of the Marist community will have those special moments that we’ve had; that they will not lose out on the opportunity of a Marist education, that they will not lose out on those special moments that would determine what they can become and who they might be?
And with that, the adventure continues tomorrow. Be it wet or dry, hot or cold, sunny or overcast, I’ll be out there because it’s all part of the adventure.
Tomorrow, from South Bend after my last set of shots to ward off the heretofore mentioned disease.
This morning, using our high tech equipment with us, Carlin and I determined that the rain in Archbold, OH would stop about 11:00 A.M. and remain stopped until about 5:00 P.M. in Mongo, IN. So we opted to delay our usual pre-dawn start (yeah right) until the window of dryness (that’s a meteorological term) would open. As I was preparing the riding machine for the day’s venture the inquisitive senior citizens at the Sauder Village (I’m not senior yet) spotted the Little Guy and so once again the tours began along with stories of their children, grandchildren, inlaws,.... So then I started riding about 2:00 P.M. No just kidding. It’s always delightful to talk with the strangers that are initially drawn to the Little Guy but then are so willing to tell their life story to a perfect stranger. So, really, as I ever so gently placed myself on the riding implement at 11:15 A.M. IT BEGAN TO RAIN!!!!! And so it continued for the next 20 miles. The rain jacket wasn’t cutting it so out came the big red poncho that hasn’t been used since Tom Gouterman abandoned me to fend for myself. But westward I had to move even though the big red poncho slowed me down by about 3 mph.
The plans this morning got adjusted when Carlin and I were scrutinizing the maps for the day. She was concerned that the route I had chosen took us through Angola. As I’ve related before, Carlin and I have a tough time getting through the more sizeable towns without losing contact with each other, getting lost or detoured. So, if we can avoid the towns, we do. So the route got adjusted to go way into the backroads. We didn’t know how backroads we would be until we got out there. But isn’t that the nature of adventure - responding to the unforeseen and unpredictable, experiencing new things without falling apart? So today, two new features: 1) Clay and gravel roads, and 2) Flooding streams and roadways.
I was hoping for a "Welcome to Indiana" sign but since I was riding a clay and gravel road there was no welcome to Indiana, there wasn't even asphalt. The only way that I knew that I was in Indiana was when I spotted some Hoosiers running around.
Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to put my safety in jeopardy. And we survived the day OK (OK Mom). But, as I rode the beautiful Ohio backroads on the way towards Indiana there were signs warning of high water. And indeed, through my fogged and water covered glasses, I could well perceive water rising on either side of the road but not onto the road. So, what the heck, I’ll keep on going. Oh, look that stream is rising to just below the bridge deck. I’ve never seen that before. The water is coming across the road. I think I’ll ride through it. I survived. I don’t think I was too reckless. It’s part of the adventure. I don’t want to be overly dramatic but I saw this guy who looked like Noah running along with animals behind him. Two by two of course with only two of each species.
We didn’t stop for lunch today because we didn’t go through any towns. The rain had stopped after 20 miles of riding so I caught up with Carlin, broke out our supply of nutritious food stocks and replenished my dwindling glycogen. We waved goodbye to Noah as the rain subsided and the water ebbed away from the road.
Eventually, we arrived at the campground that I had made reservations at. But, with all of the water, we had been experiencing, more like being inundated by, mosquitos all day. So Carlin asked the clerk at the Wet & Soggy Campground if they’ve had any problems with the mosquitos. In a very lawyerly response, the clerk responded that she had not heard any complaints about the mosquitos. As we would later find out, she hadn’t heard any complaints about the mosquitos because there were so many of them that they carried the campers away. Upon arrival at our campsite we noticed out of the sides of our eyes that the creek that runs right next to the campground was about 15 feet over its banks and moving rather quickly. We noted that to the clerk of the Wet & Soggy campground and that we’d head to town and get a motel room. Good move. Another delightful night of warmth and civilization.
Tomorrow is the trip to Notre Dame. Marist Graduate and Board President, Gerald Beeson, will be joining me for the day. He’s a much younger man than I. I hope I can keep up with him after being beaten up these last many days on the saddle of the cycling implement. When we arrive at Notre Dame I’ll be joined by family, friends, and members of the Marist community. It will be most welcome by both Carlin and I.
Br. Hank has commented that the trip is a bit of a metaphor of life. Indeed it is in so many respects. For one thing, if I had my choice, every day would be 1,000 to 2,000 feet of climb, the weather would be 80 - 90 degrees, the wind would always be at my back, I would have no aches or pains, I would always have a friend or two or three to ride with, there would be no dogs chasing me..... But alas that’s not the way it is. If I were to wait for the perfect conditions, there would be very few days to ride. And so it is with life, Don’t we all have many days with lots of climb, weather too cold, weather too hot, loneliness, challenge, fear, and yet we do it. We have a goal and we go for it despite the odds. At Marist we ask for a little help through our faith and pray to St. Marcellin Champagnat, Mary our Good Mother, and don’t we always pray for each other. And so, the rainy and cold days of life are workable and we enjoy the warm, sunny days all the more and use those good days to help the least amongst us.
As I draw to the end of this ride I’ll tell you what motivates me to continue on and to accomplish the goal of 1,000+ miles from Esopus to Chicago. I had related to others earlier on that when I reflect on Marist I know that we all, we members of the Marist community, have many experiences at Marist, but I truly believe that we all have special moments at Marist that shape what we will become and who we will be. But it requires great sacrifice of our families to provide for a Marist education. Sometimes the burden is overwhelming. Isn’t it for all of us to do what we can so that our youngest members of the Marist community will have those special moments that we’ve had; that they will not lose out on the opportunity of a Marist education, that they will not lose out on those special moments that would determine what they can become and who they might be?
And with that, the adventure continues tomorrow. Be it wet or dry, hot or cold, sunny or overcast, I’ll be out there because it’s all part of the adventure.
Tomorrow, from South Bend after my last set of shots to ward off the heretofore mentioned disease.