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It was 11 a.m. We had been stalling because of the torrential rain, but now it was time to grin and bear it. In our full rain wear (jackets, rain pants and helmet covers), which we had not used since the State of Washington, we cycled over the Smithfield Street Bridge toward Pittsburgh’s Point State Park. The Great Allegheny Passage (GAP) begins at the Point. We had been hearing rave reviews about the GAP from other cyclists since we were in Indiana. And, here we were, in my hometown, taking on the next 149 miles (a quest I never dreamed would one day be a reality).

After the obligatory photo at the fountain, we were on our way, cycling past the Steeler’s training camp, former steel mills that have been converted to other businesses, up and back over the Monongahela at the Hot Metal Bridge and past Kennywood, Pittsburgh’s amusement park, A bit farther along, we came across the fully operational West Mifflin US Steel plant.

This absolutely outstanding trail, (which having ridden on plenty this past summer gets our blue-ribbon award of excellence), was a 35-year effort that required commitments from two states, nonprofit organizations and thousands of volunteers. The vision for such a trail began in 1978 and culminated in 2013 when the last part of the trail was completed!  The GAP has a bit of everything – beginning at the confluence of three rivers in a city once known for its steel industry and boasts of over 400 bridges, through smaller towns next to the Youghiogheny River, forests, wind towers, tunnels and a 23-mile downhill ride to Cumberland, Maryland.

After riding through Homestead, we cycled through McKeesport and part of the Union Railroad to the village of Boston and then to West Newton, PA. We decided to call it a day and stayed at a unique campground that offered outdoor warm showers, a living room complete with television, and a sheltered place to pitch our tent. Just as we were in the throes of celebrating our good fortune, Pat noticed that his rear tire was flat.  Learning that there was a bicycle shop still open a half mile away, he chose to have the shop replace it.  Hey, we figured we have earned it!

As we continued through the next section of the GAP, we began bumping into more cyclists, some of whom were traveling from Cumberland to Pittsburgh and some individuals who were doing sections as morning training rides. In Connellsville, another former mining town, we took a break and then found our way back to the trail, which overlooks the Youghiogheny River for several miles. We passed through Ohiopyle, well known for its rafting excursions and Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater masterpiece.

Our camping destination this time, was the Outflow Campground in Confluence, PA – managed by the Army Corp of Engineers.I was looking forward to some decent rest, as the previous night the trains through West Newton had kept me awake.  All was rosy, until around 3 a.m., when a blinding blinking light woke me up.  While I presumed, it was coming from someone’s recreational vehicle, I was sorely mistaken. Pat’s bicycle headlight had turned itself into a strobe light and regardless of how many times I attempted to shut it down, the light wasn’t having it. That night’s rain had caused a short in it. Finally, I asked for Pat’s help; ultimately, he threw it in the corner of the nearby men’s room and we both went back to sleep.  Hours later, it was still blinking.

After what has become a normal routine of putting everything back in the panniers, we cycled into the small village of Confluence and discovered the Tissue Farm coffee shop. It turned out that one of the owners, Pope, came by with his dog and we learned that he and his wife, Susan, had only opened the shop a few months ago. Previously they lived in the Seattle suburbs where Pope once worked for Microsoft.  “If you have ever played solitaire on your computer, you are welcome,” he said, laughing.  Following Microsoft, he did a stint with Burning Man and now is where they want to be next to the river and the GAP.

We also had the pleasure of conversing with Doug Tartar, who was taking a break from his earlier ride before cycling back up to his home in Fort Hill. Doug offered to ride with us until his turn-off and we took him up on it. He and his wife chose to retire in this area after living in Kentucky, because of the GAP and the pristine land.

Though the ride was a steady climb, 38 miles on a very gradual grade, there was plenty to keep to us entertained along the way: tunnels, the former Salisbury railroad viaduct, a visitor’s center at Rockwood, the Myersdale depot/museum and the Eastern Continental Divide. And on the way down the mountain we saw the Big Savage Mountain Tunnel and the Mason-Dixon Line. It was there that we had a brief history lesson; according to the signage, Mason and Dixon drew the line at the behest of two prominent British families – the Penn’s and the Calvert’s who had continued to disagree for years as to who owned what. Less than a decade later, however, all this disagreement was for naught, because of the American Revolution.

We coasted the rest of the way into Cumberland, passing the outskirts of Frostburg and then we followed alongside an active rail line, now known as the Western Maryland Scenic Railroad. Apparently, there are special excursions that individuals can take advantage of on this railway.

We arrived at the Fairfield Inn to spend the night, thanks to a wonderful gift from our Grand Isle friends, Mick Brown and Michelle Godwin. The hotel room was outstanding – it was cool and we could see the almost full moon rise out our window. We did our laundry and there were lots of yummy items on the breakfast table. On to the C and O towpath.

Shevonne and Pat

Follow us as we spin our wheel

Having grown up in the New York metropolitan area, I had absolutely no interaction with Amish people and frankly didn’t understand them. What I knew came from reading brief descriptions in textbooks or from hearing what others had to say about them. I was lead to believe that they worked on their farms in Pennsylvania, stuck to themselves and really didn’t want to interact with the “English.”

Because of our unplanned visit to Berlin, OH and the opportunity to spend an evening and the next morning visiting with Leroy and Cinda Yoder, the stereotype I have carried all these years is now history. I was honored to be invited into their home and hope that through writing letters we will be able to stay in touch with them when we return to Vermont.

On Saturday morning, Shevonne and I continued eastward on our journey, cycling through the heart of Ohio’s Amish country, which features beautiful rolling hills. With my new appreciation for the Anabaptists, I waved to every Amish and Mennonite person we encountered (in buggies and on bicycles) and every one of them waved back.

We traveled some 20 miles along US Route 62 to Navarre, where we picked up the Ohio and Erie Canal Towpath Trail, part of the Great American Rail Trail. This recreation trail is not a rail trail; instead it follows a historic canal, constructed in the 1820’s, that once ran from Portsmouth, on the Ohio River, to Cleveland. Along this scenic trail in the woods, we passed several old locks, had lunch in the historic town of Bolivar and traveled through the site of Fort Laurens, the only Revolutionary War fort located in what would become the State of Ohio. Currently, the trail ends in Zoarville meaning that we had to cycle on a very busy road for ten miles to Atwood Lake, our destination. To us, it seemed as though the entire population of Ohio was camping there – it was crammed with recreational vehicles of all shapes and sizes and plenty of folks driving golf carts. I believe we may have had the only tent in the entire park. The lake is gorgeous and for the first time in months, it was superb to be invited to join our neighbor’s campfire as the temperatures significantly dropped

Our next destination was Weirton, WV (an old industrial steel city) where Shevonne’s sister, Leah, recently purchased a home that overlooks the Ohio River. We could see barges and pleasure boats traveling from our perch in her gazebo. Leah made sure we had a relaxing stay, buying our favorite foods, hosting a picnic and introducing us to the finest ribs in town.

From her home, we had a three-mile ride through Weirton to pick up the Panhandle Trail (the next section of the Great American Rail Trail). The Panhandle Trail, runs along an old rail bed from West Virginia’s panhandle to Carnegie, PA. Apparently, the former railroad transported coal from West Virginia to the steel mills around Pittsburgh. It was definitely a day when our raincoats were on and off. After 20 miles, we turned onto the Montour Trail and after another 20 miles we went from rural country to the suburbs of Pittsburgh, arriving at the Coraopolis trailhead. Thankfully we did not have to ride the last 11 miles into Pittsburgh as there is presently no safe cycling route to the city. Leah borrowed a pickup truck, found us without issue and we loaded our bicycles in the back for the last part of the day’s journey.

Pat

Follow us as we spin our wheels

When the Ohio to Erie Trail ended in the town of Glenmont, we had two choices; turn left and follow the river valley to the Turkey Hollow Campground in Millersburg or turn right and climb straight up an enormous hill. According to Pat, left was our intended direction and I breathed a sigh of relief.  A few miles out of town, however, a “Road Closed” sign appeared in front of us.

We have had our share of disagreements about how to handle those signs and this time, we both decided to ignore it. That is, until the Ohio Department of Transportation personnel in their trucks told us we could not go further because of the tree that fell from the forest and knocked down the power lines with it.

“We don’t know when they will get around to shutting down the power so we can cut the tree,” one of the guys said.  “It may not happen until tomorrow. “You will need to cycle back into town and cycle up that big hill and then travel about four or five miles more and come back down on the other side of the road,” he said.

Grimacing, Pat and I turned around and cycled back to the hill to begin what seemed arduous after several days on flatter terrain. My bicycle screamed out in pain, refusing to change gears and forcing a hot walk up the hill. I wanted to chuck this bicycle in the woods for good!

At the top of the hill, I was hysterical as I saw no way forward to finish the adventure without another bicycle. I called my sister, Leah, in West Virginia  as we were heading her way in a few days. “Can I borrow your bicycle when I get to your place?” I asked.  “It has skinny tires, “Leah answered. “It won’t work on the trails.” “Then I need some kind of bicycle,” I said. “Can you get me one at Dick’s or Walmart?  She said she would call me back in a bit once she considered some different possibilities. With that, I relaxed a bit. It was possible to cycle on the downhill but each uphill climb was less than pretty. We stopped at a fun intersection – fun I thought because there was a concrete Yeti in place. We called our friend, Tom, from Illinois – after all he had gotten us out of the last jam – maybe he would have an easy solution. While we were on the phone with Tom, a gentleman in a small pickup truck came by and offered to take us to a bicycle repair shop. His truck was packed with a couch and cushions.  – “Give me a half an hour and I will be back”, he said. Then, my sister called back.  “I am buying you’ a bicycle right now,” she said. “What kind of pedals do you want?” This was all too overwhelming for me to handle. I suggested that she wait because maybe I could resolve the problem.  “No”, she said.  “I am getting you a bicycle.”

Pat and I kept on cycling up and down some hills, and true to his word, in about 30 minutes, the gentleman, named Rick, with the pick-up (named Elinor) reappeared.  I was on the fence about having him take us to a shop and Rick could sense my apprehension. “You can drive the truck if you’d like,” he said. “Is it a clutch?” I asked. “I would really like to drive a car with a clutch again as it has been some years,” “No,” Rick answered.  A bit disappointed, I then, agreed to put our bicycles in the back of the pickup and head for a repair shop.

“Elinor will get us there safely”, said Rick as the three of us crammed into a two-person pickup truck. “I don’t like to go very fast on these back roads.” While Pat shouted out the Google directions to the bicycle shop, Rick drove and told us we were now in the midst of Amish country. 

Fifteen miles later, we pulled up to the Hiland Bicycle Shop, owned by Leroy and Cinda Yoder. Leroy and Cinda are Amish and Leroy has been selling and repairing bicycles for several years. His shop and the bicycles keep multiplying and now he has a new warehouse behind the shop which is stuffed with electric assist bicycles and lots of bicycle parts. Most of the people he serves live no more than 10 miles away as members of theAmish and Mennonite communities use bicycles as their means of transportation. “Your cassette is all chewed up,” Leroy said. “I don’t have one that is the same but I can replace it with another, though it won’t be that easy to get up steep hills.”

Desperate and knowing we had a few more days before we were back on rail trails, I agreed to have him replace it and 10 minutes later I was testing it. It was now about 4:30 p.m. on Friday evening. Pat and I needed a place to camp and some food. Rick asked Leroy if there was a place we could camp on his property.  Leroy indicated that we could do so, either on his son’s property behind the shop or on his property across the road. “There’s also a place to get food about a mile and a half from here,” he said. “And if you would like, you can sleep in the shop’s warehouse tonight”. Knowing thunderstorms were brewing, we agreed to stay in the warehouse and stashed everything there. Once more, Rick took us in Elinor to the market and returned us to the Hiland Bicycle Shop.  Rick seemed thrilled to have been able to help us and he left us in good hands.

Two hours later, Leroy and Cinda stopped in to visit with us, bringing four chairs so we could sit outside and converse as the sunlight faded. We had many questions for them and they had many questions for us.As we began talking, Leroy said he had a question. “How did you happen to come to us today? And Pat answered with the following “It all began when a tree fell from the forest and blocked the road.”

And we all laughed.

We are incredibly thankful for the unexpected gifts that arrived on this fine day.

Shevonne and Pat

Follow us as we spin our wheels

“You don’t live here,” said a woman as we came out of our host’s apartment in Richmond, IN. “Are you trying to break in to my son’s car? That was how our morning began. Pat didn’t take offense – he simply introduced himself and eventually all was smoothed out. Down the street, we attempted to feel a bit better with some coffee but that was peppered with an individual who proceeded to play gospel music inside the coffee house at full volume.

Because our host, Blair recommended US Route 40 as the best way to cycle, (given the wide shoulder) we followed his advice and crossed into Ohio in a few miles.

After a fairly easy 19-mile ride, we arrived at the Wolf Creek Trailhead just in time to get pounded by rain.

Then Jim, who oversees the trail, appeared in his truck, opened the garage so we could have some shelter and shared some of his bicycle touring stories. A short time later, we were back on our bicycles cycling through the outskirts of Dayton to the Miami River.

Unfortunately, the trail we then needed to cycle on was closed for construction and our only way through was up and over a long set of stairs.  We didn’t hesitate – just did it! Once we crossed the Miami River, we cycled through the University of Dayton and then into the South ParkDistrict where our Warm Showers hosts, Heath and Joyce, and their dog, Josie, reside.Heath shared a bit about Dayton’s history and how the city dug the river much deeper after a horrific flood over 100 years ago.

Our travels through Ohio have been relatively easy – paved, flat trails and lots of towns with soda foundations. As we cycled through Xenia, we discovered it is known as a bicycle hub because five trails converge in the town. And after another 30 miles on the trail, we arrived in London, OH and the primitive campsite right next to the Ohio to Erie Trail.  There we were greeted by three other cyclists, Dave (who is celebrating his 70^th birthday, his daughter Katherine and her partner, Pete. They are cycling from Cincinnati to Cleveland. They are all from central Massachusetts and we found plenty of commonalities.

Though many individuals rave about this idyllic campsite, I had the opposite experience.  Between the high humidity, lack of any breeze, mosquitos, a bright white light in my eyes and the group that appeared at 1:30 a.m. to smoke weed, it was another rough night. Pat continues to sleep through everything.

Of course, the unexpected occurred during the ride the next day. First, we had to deal with a train full of hopper cars that kept moving forward and backward blocking all the cycling crossings. And then, when attempting to put my bicycle in gear to get up a hill, it faltered. Time to visit another bicycle repair shop, this time in the Short North area of Columbus, Ohio.

This time the diagnosis was that I needed a new derailleur. However, the bicycle mechanic told me that there would be no way to get one because they stopped manufacturing the type on my bicycle during the pandemic. He did a bit of tweaking, showing me how I might deal with it should it reoccur

Back on the Ohio to Erie trail, we maneuvered through the Columbus outskirts and picked up the Alum Creek Trail, a pleasant trail with winding paths and lots of bridges. We arrived in Westerville, thirsty but undecided about taking a break because the skies promised a storm coming soon. The irresistible afternoon Dr. Pepper won out, because of which we didn’t make it to our Warm Showers location before the torrential thunderstorm touched down. A gentleman motioned us into his home and we did, for the next hour.  We ventured back out – with Pat recommending to hoof it under the power lines. Three miles later we were greeted by Dave, our Warm host in Sunbury, Ohio.

After a restful night, and a chance to talk more with our host about cycling in Ohio and elsewhere, we easily cycled to Mount Vernon. As we exited the Comfort Inn, we bumped into  two local police cars in front of the motel with their engines running. Memories of the beginning of our trip outside of Seattle and the Motel Six quickly came to our minds – and once again we wondered – are we in a safe motel?

Shevonne and Pat

Follow us as we spin our wheels

“Would you like some fresh pineapple?” Jerry asked.  “Sure, why not,” Pat and I responded. It was a hot muggy Indiana afternoon and that sounded exquisite. So, how did Jerry come into the picture on this particular afternoon? Would you believe that once again I had a flat tire? This time, it was right in front on his home.  With what we have been through we knew what the issue was with the tire.  So after we popped the rear wheel off once again, Pat volunteered to take it to a bicycle shop via an Uber ride. That left me hanging out in the front yard of a home and I had no idea whether I would be welcomed or told to hit the pavement.

Indiana hospitality won out. When Jerry eventually came out of his garage and found me in his driveway, with two bicycles and lots of panniers, he brought me a chair and a bottle of chilled water. Jerry, I learned, was a former ironworker who had built many of the Chicago skyscrapers until injuries stopped him cold. So now, he works on several home improvements and enjoys the company of his grown children, grandchildren and the kitties that he calls the Mighty Kitties because of the M on their foreheads.

When Pat returned with the wheel now taped so the spokes would no longer pop through, Jerry invited us for pineapple. After we had eaten in his backyard and had the wheel back on my bicycle we continued on trails and country roads into North Judson. There, we were welcomed by Betty, our Warm Showers host, her husband, Paul, and their golden retriever, Cheddar. Betty and Paul have only lived in their home for a few years and like being closer to the country. Betty makes her own medicines and is setting up an apothecary but some years ago, she was a cage fighter. (I admit that I have no idea what that means)

The next morning, our journey took us on the North Judson Erie Trail. Within the confines of this trail, there are interpretive signs for each of the planets in our solar system. They are also spaced apart in the same proportion as they are separated in outer space.

At the end of this trail we bumped into a trio who had come from Muncie and were heading to Mackinaw Island in Michigan. Unlike us, they were carrying next to nothing (dog spray on their handlebars and very small packs). They always stay indoors.

More back roads and trails filled our day. In the town of Rochester, I noticed that the elementary school parking lot was full and a crossing guard with sign in hand was standing outside. That’s right – they started school this past week. From Rochester, we cycled the Nickel Plate Trail for 21 miles to Peru. Peru is well-known for its homegrown circus and because John Dillinger robbed a bank in Peru. That said, we decided to dine at Dillinger’s restaurant – the whole place was decked out in Dillinger memorabilia.

The following day we were once again on the Nickel Plate Trail and then left it to cycle into Converse and then on trails that had been cleverly created with artistic designs and signage. Lastly, we proceeded onto the Cardinal Greenway Trail – it opened in 1998 and is the longest recreation trail in the state.

Gas City was our evening destination. And yes, Gas City was named as it was because there were once natural gas fields discovered there. Unfortunately, the knowledge as to how to manage these fields came too late and the gas disappeared quickly.

Today we rode 15 miles on roads until we were once again able to pick up the Cardinal Greenway in Gaston. We briefly visited the Cardinal Greenway headquarters in Muncie and then tackled the last 40 miles of the trail, much of which involved some climbing. We arrived in Richmond and quickly found Blair’s home, our Warm Shower’s host. Blair shouted from an upstairs window and came downstairs wearing a Michigan Friend’s t-shirt. That seemed a bit quirky but once he explained that he was a University of Michigan graduate and now in Quaker Seminary, it tied together perfectly.  Go Blue. We found commonalities on and off the bicycle buoyed by the gin and ginger beer drinks and the delicious meal of chicken, beets, hummus, cucumbers and lentils he prepared.

Tomorrow we take on Ohio.

Shevonne and Pat

Follow us as we spin our wheels

We were within the City of Chicago when my bicycle completely caved in. Regardless of having had repairs at three different bicycle shops in Wisconsin, the chain refused to stay on and the whole bicycle was groaning. We were riding with Tom, our guide, Warm Shower’s host, bicycle mechanic and newfound friend. We met Tom and his wife, Cindy in early July back in Spearfish, South Dakota, when they too were camping.

Tom, who definitely knows his way around bicycles, diagnosed the problem as my needing to replace the free hub body – meaning a brand-new back wheel. Since we could go no farther together, we split up. Tom raced back to his home, riding 21 mph, to order and purchase a new wheel before the close of business while Pat and I tried to figure out where we might now stay in Chicago.

Spotting a police vehicle at the intersection, I wandered over.  “I am looking for place now to spend the night because my bicycle is no longer working. Do you have some suggestions?”  I asked.  “Where are you from? he asked. “Vermont,” “Then you don’t want to spend the night around this area because all the hotels are too shady. Try looking around Lincoln Park,” he said.

But I need to back up a few days first.  Our journey through the last section of Wisconsin and northern Illinois began last Sunday morning in Racine. Our plan was to meet Tom somewhere along the trail. He had caught a commuter train up to Kenosha, WI and was going to ride north while we were riding south. Tom is an avid cyclist, bicycle mechanic, and an astute trumpet player. Cindy is also an avid cyclist, musician, and works full time for All State from her home office.

After we met up, Tom took us through Kenosha, WI – (the scene of some horrific violence last summer) and then on multiple trails (some paved and some limestone covered). We stopped in Lake Bluff, first to admire the miniature outdoor railroad and then to admire the sailboats on Lake Michigan who were in the midst of a race. We cycled through the gorgeous homes and properties in Lake Forest, past the Great Lakes Naval Station and several residential streets, eventually arriving at Tom and Cindy’s home in Riverwoods situated at the end of a private road.

Cindy prepared a lovely dinner on which we feasted while reveling in the beauty of their property. Their home has a number of huge picture windows overlooking mature trees and grasslands. Tom has his own bicycle shop on the property where several bicycles hang from the rafters. Because of some noises our bicycles were making, he offered to see if he could resolve the issues.

On Tuesday morning, Tom, Pat and I headed toward Chicago, with Tom leading the way. We traveled though the city of North Brook and Pat took a spin on the Velodrome.  As we neared the city streets, my bicycle’s noises increased, It was definitely time to find a bicycle repair shop, which we did after traveling through multiple one way streets in North Chicago. One hour later, the shop mechanic assured me that the problems were fixed. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it more than one block before the chain came off once again, forcing me to return to the shop. And though the shop mechanic recognized the issue, he didn’t really offer up a solution other than to pedal while coasting.

So, as Tom raced home, Pat and I made a reservation at the Lincoln boutique Hotel (that sounded cool)– five miles away via Chicago’s Lakefront Trail. While Pat enjoyed every minute of cycling those miles, I took the pedestrian path, pushing my damaged weight heavy bicycle.

Hundreds of people whizzed by on bicycles and rollerblades. We were smitten with everything the lakefront offered – sand volleyball, kickball, softball and plenty of space for swimming. To us, the Chicago lakefront is a young person’s utopia.

Tom arrived early the next morning, new wheel and bicycle tools in hand. Success at last, Pat and I were back on the Lakefront Trail cycling past parks, museums, and piers until after seven miles, my back tire went totally flat.

Because we now have changing tires down, before long we were cycling once again, this time past part of Chicago’s Southside (Hyde Park and Jackson Park). It was then that we found ourselves in a section of Chicago next to the lake where there were roads but no people, homes or industry. We have since learned that his is where the former US Steel plant once was once situated. All plans for redevelopment here have not taken hold because of the costs involved in cleaning up the industrial waste. Shortly afterward, we crossed into Indiana and entered the city of Hammond, known for producing 20 percent of the steel in our country.

And a few miles later, we finally made it back to the trails designated on the Great American Rail Trail on the Pennsy Greenway outside of Munster, Indiana. It was time to rest up and celebrate!

Shevonne and Pat

Follow us as we spin our wheels

Over the past three days, we have cycled 135 miles further east through Wisconsin. We now find ourselves just outside of Racine, a city on Lake Michigan. The two of us have gotten spoiled by the network of Wisconsin State Trails, which crisscross the state, are very well maintained and heavily used. We have also enjoyed spending a few evenings with Wisconsin residents through the Warm Showers program.

Warm Showers is a concept where fellow cyclists agree to host travelling cyclists passing through their town. Typically, they provide you with their extra bedroom or a place to stake a tent, allow access to their bathroom and if lucky, invite you to dinner. Cyclists download the Warm Showers app and then look for hosts in towns where they plan to stay for the night.  We are told it’s all part of that “cycling karma.”

After that wild overnight in Reedsburg, we set out on Thursday for our only day in Wisconsin where we had to spend the entire time on roads. Being on roads also meant we had to deal with real hills and vehicular traffic, something we hadn’t had to do for a while. After climbing to the top of a ridge, we were graced with a long downhill and then found our way through flat terrain into Sauk City, which is on the Wisconsin River.

There we stayed with Warm Showers host, Kelly. Kelly is very animated and we had no problem carrying on a conversation with her for the entire evening. She has done plenty of cycling in Wisconsin and perhaps, has her sights set on a cross-country trip in a few more years. Kelly’s mom, Mary, was also staying there for the night and she enjoyed showing us she is the queen in a game of Yahtzee!

The following morning, we set out for Madison, Wisconsin’s capital city. After riding for a few miles in the shoulder of busy US Route 12, we were able to once again pick up a bicycle trail that took us into the outskirts of Madison.

Madison is a magical city, situated on two lakes. We saw plenty of people kayaking, sculling and water skiing. It is also an absolute Mecca for bicyclists. There are scores of bike trails throughout and designated bike lanes on many of the city’s main streets.  We saw cyclists everywhere and rode by a couple of signs that keep count of how many cyclists pass by each day. 

One, on the Southwest Commuter Path, indicated that 500+ bikers had passed by that day. Another, on the Capital City Path, stated that some 1,167 cyclists had gone by that day, and it was only 3:00 on the afternoon! While we were getting some serious bicycle repairs done at Machinery Row Bicycles, (cassettes and chains replaced) we headed over to Great Dane Brewery and enjoyed a couple of IPAs.

That evening we stayed with Aram and Polly, on the east side of Madison. Between the two of them, they have worked and traveled in Asia and Africa and are certainly keen for more adventures. Aram had prepared a Lebanese meal with hummus that is the best we have ever tasted! Their cat has an affinity for chewing on cords including cell phone and laptop cords. They have to put protection on all of their cords as did we or he will readily destroy them with his teeth.

After departing Madison, we set our sights on the Glacial Drumlin Trail, which stretches 53 miles from Cottage Grove to Waukesha. Things were going great until we got to just east of Sullivan, where some tornadoes had passed through a couple of nights before. After navigating our way around a couple of blowdowns, we got to a spot which was impassible, and had to jump over to US 18 for a few miles. Eventually we were able to rejoin the Glacial Drumlin Trail and rode it from Dousman into Waukesha.

On Saturday, we travelled from Waukesha to Racine via the New Berlin State Trail, Milwaukee County’s Oak Leaf Trail and some back roads in Racine County. Along the way, we bumped into Patrick and Rachel who are also travelling across the country from Everett, WA to Maine and their Warm Showers hosts Barb and Gene, who showed them the way to the Oak Leaf Trail.

Thanks to the forward thinking of the parks commission in the early 1900s who purchased and protected the land, Charles B Whitnall, the landscape architect who designed the parks in a necklace of green, and Zip Morgan, a staunch bicycle advocate, who conceived the idea of the Oak Leaf Trail, there are some 135 miles of trails connecting several county parks throughout Milwaukee County. Portions of the trail follow the rivers and run along Lake Michigan.  We, New England folks had no idea of the richness within Milwaukee.

Tomorrow we will pass into Illinois and ride along a section of Lake Michigan.

Pat and Shevonne

Follow us as we spin our wheels

“Aren’t you going to go and talk to that person sitting over there?” Pat said to me as we were cycling along the La Crosse River Trail in Wisconsin. “What person? “I said, totally oblivious. “The woman with all the bicycle bags – I thought you were anxious to talk to other long distance cyclists”, Pat responded. And with that, we walked over and introduced ourselves to Miranda. “My partner, Phil, is out getting drinks at the gas station,” she said.  “We are cycling from La Crosse to Milwaukee and then taking the Amtrak back to our vehicle in the train station parking lot.” Phil returned shortly carrying two bottles of chilled blue Gatorade. As we continued conversing we learned that they have plans to be in Vermont in late summer and are interested in good cycling trails and good breweries. (They definitely sound like our kind of people). We then parted company as they were planning on cycling further than us. I am sure we did not think that we would bump into them again. Pat also pointed out that he thought we were cycling right next to the tracks that we rode west from Chicago through Wisconsin in early June.

Later in the afternoon we arrived in the town of Sparta, which promotes itself as the bicycle capital of the country.  The 32 mile Elroy to Sparta trail was established in 1967 and is well known for being the first rail trail in the USA. And that is etched in my memory because years ago, my father caught wind of the news and proposed that our family of five pack up our bicycles and give the trail a whirl. When I heard of this plan (at age 11), I was ecstatic. And yet, for whatever reason this trip never took place. Now at the age of 65 I am fulfilling this childhood dream.

After a restful night in Sparta, I was anxious to get going but then some strong thunderstorms appeared. After the storm subsided, we encountered plenty of downed trees requiring hand clearing and carrying our packed bicycles over several downed trees. The trail was a bit soft in places but as Pat said – “Wisconsin knows how to treat their trails”.  It wasn’t long before we entered our first tunnel, close to a mile long.  Only two more to go along with a detour on a busy highway.

When we came to the second closed section of the trail, I balked. I wanted to do the entire trail and regardless of the fence and signage that said trail was closed, I ignored it. In fact, I also ignored the next sign that said “Bridge Out”, thinking that perhaps they had fixed the bridge and not taken the closed sign down. Not! Pat shook his head, mumbled a few choice words and we retraced our steps to the highway. And so, we did complete the trail but had to cycle the last seven miles on the road.

After a water break at the trail’s end, we were ready to keep on cycling another 22 miles, this time on the 400 Trail (named such because of a locomotive way back in history that covered the territory between Chicago and Minneapolis (400 miles) in 400 hours. And 14 miles into our ride we caught up with Miranda and Phil. Turns out we were all planning on camping in Reedsburg at the local town campground equipped with a shelter, a few tables and a shower.

We quickly set up two campsites and then walked into town to enjoy dinner and a brew at the local brewpub. Upon our return, the skies had clouded over and we could see some flashes of lightning in the distance.  After showering and getting into our muggy tent, we heard a scream and saw Miranda and Phil running from the picnic shelter. “Hey what’s going on?” I yelled out. “There’s a rattlesnake next to the trash can”, Miranda answered.  “Great,” Pat said. “If we get a storm now, we won’t be able to go to the shelter.” Sure enough, two hours later, the storm came in. full on, with wicked winds, plenty of lightning and thunder. Pat and I decided to make a run for it – zipped up the tent, and ran to the shelter. The snake was nowhere to be found. By 1 a.m. we were back in our tent. Morning came quickly and we shared a meal Miranda had prepared. Together the four of us cycled seven miles before each going in different directions. We hope that our paths will cross once again in the future.

Shevonne and Pat

Follow us as we spin our wheels

Back on our bicycles once again, we began anew in Harmony, Minnesota, just a bit over the Iowa border. I had mapped out the perfect day – 53 miles of paved trail to Houston, Minnesota. The trail winds along the South Branch and Main Branch of the Root River through beautiful scenery and quaint small towns, that by and large have espoused the river and the bicycle trail. There are lots of businesses catering to cyclists, rafters and anglers. Lanesboro is a quaint old railroad town and Whalan offers a pie shop with 25 varieties of pie. Cycling on the Root River Trail also marked our reunification with the old grade of the former Milwaukee Road rail line which was where we began our journey in Washington state.

We set up camp at the Houston Nature Center, which is exclusively for walk in camping. Though we were forewarned that it was the annual “Hoedown” weekend and that bands would be playing right next door to the campsite at the fairgrounds until 1 a.m. we didn’t pay it much heed.  What we didn’t know was that there would be a tractor pull, followed by a truck pull at the fairgrounds that lasted for four hours, throwing billows of black smoke into the air and driving us asunder with all of the engine revving.

At 7 am on Sunday, we were the first guests at the Houston Lion’s Club annual gravy and biscuit breakfast. Though we didn’t realize it at the time, this would be the day’s highlight.  Before leaving Houston, I discovered my rear tire was shredded.  Fortunately, I had just purchased two replacement tires in Decorah – one for my bicycle and one for Shevonne’s. What I presumed would be a quick fix turned into a two-hour work-out that included destroying two inner tubes as well.  Thankfully, a bicycle repair guru finally appeared on the scene and with our last tube, he was able to get the tire back on successfully. His recommendation is to stop using the tire levers because they rip the inner tubes.

Wheel back on the bicycle, I then discovered my front tire was about to blow. Without another tire that fit my bicycle and without a local bicycle shop we were a bit stuck. Miraculously, Dan and Faith appeared and offered to give us a ride into Lacrosse. We had met Dan and Faith earlier in the morning when attempting to repair the tire and they were now back after their 26-mile ride. “We believe in karma,” said Dan as he loaded our bicycles on the back of his pick-up truck. Dan describes himself as a cook for cows –he makes sure they are getting the right nutrients and Faith works at the University of Wisconsin in Lacrosse, doing what she describes as triage for college students to ensure their success.

After driving past multiple closed bicycle shops, we gave up and rented a hotel room for the night. We checked out the Mississippi River and the bridge we had planned to ride over the river. When they open we will visit a local bike shop to have them inspect all of our tires, replace any as needed and perform any other tuning up as needed.

Pat

Follow us as we spin our wheels

It was mid-morning last Sunday when we stopped on our way north from Gladbrook at a picnic shelter on the Pioneer Trail. There were two people sitting together and chatting at one of the other tables who unbeknownst to us, were holding their quarterly meeting of the Central Iowa’s Dowsers Association. This did not truly become evident until I witnessed a gentleman swinging a pendulum over a set of cards and asked – “What are you doing?”  Thus, ensued a brief conversation that touched on Reiki and long distance healing energy.  I mentioned that the last time anyone swung a pendulum over my head, 24 years ago, it was because they were attempting to coax my body into labor.

Our next stop was in Hudson, whose main street screamed – block party aftermath. It was time for our daily dose of a sugar sweetened beverage to give us a jolt of energy.  We spotted a local bar and parked our bicycles, maneuvering through the sea of motorcyclists taking a smoke break. It was at that moment I made the error of saying to them, “You don’t have to wear helmets in this state?”, which was a less than smooth comment and prompted plenty of biker swagger from the group. Sometimes I should just keep my mouth shut.

On our way once again, we cycled along the Sergeant Road Trail to the outskirts of Waterloo, then the Cedar Prairie Trail into downtown Cedar Falls, then across the Cedar River to North Cedar, the home of Warm Showers hosts, Randy and Laura Hashman. We were ecstatic to meet each other and they quickly made us feel at home, offering a variety of beverages and appetizers while we relaxed and conversed in their beautifully landscaped patio and back yard.

“Our daughter, Linden, and her partner, Jake, convinced us that we should be Warm Showers hosts”, Laura said. Linden and Jake were the recipient of many Warm Showers hosts during their cycling adventure, which began in Prudhoe Bay, Alaska with their 55-pound dog. Their originally intended destination was Argentina, but the trip was cut short in Baja because of the pandemic. Linden, Jake and Jane, Laura’s mom, joined us for a fabulous dinner of rib-eyes, sweet corn, potatoes, cucumbers, Jake’s home brew and plenty of laughter.

After Randy’s and Laura’s gracious hospitality, it was difficult to want to leave the next morning. Corey, my son, who lives in Decorah with his partner, Kyra, had made an early morning call proposing he pick us up in Sumner, Iowa. We readily agreed as we wanted to spend more time with them.  Forty miles later, after sharing some chips and a soda and some fruit from a small general store, we converged in one of Sumner’s local parks.

The last two times I have been in Decorah they were overnight visits; first during RAGBRAI in 1993 and then once again after RAGBRAI in 2012. Pat and I love this community and Corey and Kyra’s Victorian dwelling. They live a few blocks from town with three cats who have the run of the neighborhood.

We are impressed with Decorah’s topography, parks and trails and how happy and relaxed everyone seems.Corey cycled the 11-mile Trout Run trail with us one morning, which took us along the river to the hatchery and then up and over several good hills.

We have made repairs and substitutions to our gear to prepare for the rest of our journey east. We’ve checked out the Toppling Goliath brewery, the Seed Saver’s property, and learned much about how the Norwegians came to settle in the US by spending a morning at the Vesterheim Museum. We are presently partaking of Decorah’s annual Nordic Fest that is chock full of new foods to try, music to appreciate and Nordic dancing.  Alas, tomorrow morning we are back on the trails, this time through a section of southeastern Minnesota.

And thanks to Michelle and June who sent us a care package of healthy cycling treats to get us the rest of the way home!

Shevonne and Pat

Follow us as we spin our wheels