finally home

Friday, June 30, 2006

I hereby declare my candidacy for Monroe County Road Commissioner. The last stretch from Dundee to Luna Pier was the shortest, but roughest leg of the trip, with only one pothole filled-- by a dead raccoon. We had to shake, rattle and roll to the finish.

But what a sweet conclusion: The long-anticipated dipping of the front tire into Lake Erie, pictures with new friends, and parading with the rest of the pack before startled onlookers.

The odometer came to rest at 279 miles. What a ride!

Success in life comes down to this: Set a goal, put yourself in a position to get there, and have fun along the way. That works in long distance cycling, or any other worthy endeavor.

To those who aren’t familiar with Pedal Across Lower Michigan, consider this blog an invitation to join us, or any other group devoted to cycling. I’ve struggled to include photographs, but bear with me. I’m still trying.

To over 750 riders who made the trip, thank you for one of the best vacations of my life. This blog has been written in the first person, something I’m not accustomed to doing. I’m sorry to have omitted so many names.

But some special people must be mentioned:

Jeff Dicenzo, who in spite of his busy life in Adrian, devotes countless hours as chairman of the ride. His sense of organization is nearly outdone by his sense of humor.

Ellie Knesper has been part of 23 of the 25 PALM rides and is a driving force behind this great event. I appreciate her daily weather updates, and her companionship on a beautiful route around Gull Lake.

Kevin Degan is an inspiration. Cerebral Palsy allows him to use only one pedal on his sleek and specially fitted tricycle. Still, this gutsy man was with us all the way and more, completing an optional one day ride of over 100 miles. He did it to raise money for the Make a Wish Foundation.

And finally, brief but heartfelt thanks --to Drew for his computer expertise, to Royce for the tip that made my helmet finally fit, to Doug and Sue for breaking bread with me, to Al for his informative bicycle classes, and to Dottie for her friendship and photographic talents.

Here’s a final poem, which came to me during this long and lovely tour:

Keep your four wheels. Give me two.
My engine? Just my legs will do.
My fuel bills never break the bank.
At dinnertime I fill the tank.
In scorching sun, I make a breeze,
I crest the hill and glide with ease.
Though soon I will be passed by you,
I’ll stop and savor any view.
For just a while I’ve broken free
From all the pressures bothering me.
In hectic times, a balance strike.
Leave the rat race. Ride a bike!

Roger

Chelsea to Dundee

Thursday, June 29, 2006

How would a long-winded novelist begin today’s blog?

“We pedaled furiously, as the Cabela’s water tower appeared majestically over the Michigan corn fields, like the fabled Emerald City of Oz.”

Okay, the ride from Chelsea to Dundee wasn’t quite that exciting. But we loved the low humidity, a firm tailwind, and more postcard views of rural Michigan.

Each PALM rider displays a sign on the back of the bike giving a name and often a home town. A biker passing another will say, for safety’s sake, “On your left.” Often the communication ends there.

But many times, I pull alongside and enter a conversation that lasts for miles. I knew I would love the physical challenge of this ride, and the opportunity to witness the beauty of Michigan. But the social aspect is an unexpected bonus. I really like these crazy people who spend a week biking and camping to get from one side of the state to the other.

A long bike ride is exercise for the brain, as well as the thighs. We ponder the scenery, or concentrate on traffic, or wonder what we may have forgotten to pack. In my case, old hymns and hit tunes invade the cranium, as well as some regrettable rhymes.

I apologize for an ugly bit of verse, which sprang into my head. But any PALM rider will tell you, the amount of roadkill we have to avoid is staggering.

A CYCLIST’S ODE TO ROADKILL

While cycling endless miles, I see
A critter corpse menagerie.
The possum, skunk, the hare and tortoise,
The deer and squirrel in rigor mortis.
Smeared or severed, newly “pelted,”
Having been abruptly belted.
Dispatched without a shoulder to cry on,
Yet, in my path, a shoulder to lie on.

A great sculptor once said he was simply trying to free his creations from a block of marble.
And so I have liberated this poem.

I’ll give you a real one tomorrow, as we head into Luna Pier. Our fabulous journey is about to end.

Roger

Leslie to Chelsea

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

The other night, while meandering through a bumper crop of tents to find my own, I discovered something startling.

Before my eyes, perched upon the kick stand, was another red 1977 Schwinn Latour. I thought I was the only one sentimental enough (or stupid enough) to take such an antique on a ride across Michigan. But there she was, radiant through her battered paint job.

I immediately tracked down the owner, a teenager named Zachary. He said he enjoyed the bike and had upgraded it.
I had lovingly preserved my Schwinn in various garages all these years, but as it turns out, Zachary found his in a garbage dump.

Oh well. Both bikes are doing the job.

I mentioned yesterday that half the riders in PALM are above 50. But nearly 200 riders under 20 are also on the journey. The youngest to pedal solo is seven. Others are being towed or are riding tandem.

You’ll never find a more fun and affordable family vacation than PALM. The adult price is only $95, and the kids are included for roughly $50 apiece. For a little extra, you can have breakfast and dinner at the high schools hosting camp each night.

Marge Johnson of Berkely is riding with her son, granddaughter and great-granddaughter. I’ve talked to teens who began PALM trips when they were babies.

We left Leslie at 7:30 this morning and arrived in Chelsea at 11:00. At 36 miles, this was the easiest day of the trip.
The staff provides us with detailed maps, but I don’t rely on them. I just follow the stenciled directions on the pavement or follow the pack.

I end this blog with some bicycling trivia. The League of Wheelman, established in 1880, was dedicated to improving roads for bicycles. Michigan Governor Frank Warner, himself a dedicated cyclist, established the Michigan Highway Department in 1905. He named as the first director the chief spokesman for the Wheelmen.

We may not be kings and queens of the road anymore, but we were here first.

By the way, I found that historical tidbit on a marker in my hometown of Farmington Hills. I had passed it in my car dozens of times without looking. But while training for this trip, I pulled my bike over and gave it a closer look.

You can discover plenty on a bicycle!

Get ready Dundee. We’re coming tomorrow, and we’re only 56 miles away.

Roger

Battle Creek to Leslie

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Before experiencing the PALM ride, I envisioned myself crawling out of a sleeping bag each morning like the Robert Redford character in “The Electric Horseman.” He grimaced, tried to straighten up and said, “The broke parts wake up slower than the other parts.”

My hindquarters get a bit uncomfortable on the bike seat, and my thighs become fatigued on the big hills. But I did 60 miles today from Battle Creek to Leslie with no trouble.

That distance, as any experienced long distance rider will tell you, is the equivalent of skiing down the bunny hill.
Many other bikers did “the century” today, taking another route that covered 100 miles. If you take reasonable care of your body, and get in plenty of practice rides, you’ll be surprised at what you can do.

Half of the 750 people on this journey across Michigan are over 50 years old. Five of them are in their eighties.

On a long ride, I like pushing it hard to the halfway point. Then I travel at a moderate speed the rest of the way. The PALM support staff sets up every seven miles or so to make sure our water bottles stay filled.

This is a good week to eat virtually anything I want. Like putting gasoline in the car, I’ve filled this tank with enormous quantities of food. I ate so much spaghetti last night, I might as well have used a knife and fork lift.

I end today’s blog with memories of the late Nick Feldman, an avid cyclist who used to pedal his age in miles. He did this into his eighties, doing slow but steady laps around Belle Isle. This was Nick’s birthday tradition, an act of happy defiance against the aging process. I did a TV story on this inspiring man, and finished with a poem:

“When wrinkles grow, and hair is thinning.
When Father Time is always winning.
When age and aches become unsettling,
Just be like Nick, and keep on pedaling.”

Roger

South Haven to Plainwell

June 25, 2006
I'm riding a 1977 Schwinn LeTour. Just for fun, I dug up the owner's manual, and discovered the purchase price: $210.

It may seem like an antique to those who demand the latest equipment. But the old Schwinn has served me pretty well. It's all original, though I've replaced the brakes, touched up the paint job and added a soft seat.

The biggest physical challenge in the PALM ride involves the butt, not the legs. But I'm blissfully padded, not only with the cushy seat, but with a foam lining in my bike shorts. It's like wearing Depends, without being incontinent.
I know we look silly in those tight fitting black pants. Black so they don't show dirt. Tight so the fabric doesn't rub against the skin. I'll spare you more details from the "Tour de Pants."

Here are some other items attached to me or to my old faithful bike:
1) a good helmet, obviously
2) biking gloves
3) speedometer / odometer
4) battery operated reflector
5) small headlight
6) bag under the seat
7) two water bottles
8) bike lock
9) emergency pump and tools
10) rear view mirror
The PALM ride is exposing me to an amazing array of bicycles. The most interesting bikes are the recumbents, carrying the biker low to the ground in a comfortable seat. These are especially well suited to people with physical limitations, but all kinds of riders seem to enjoy them. They tell me the bikes are a bear to get uphill, but they really fly when gravity befriends them.
I'm not an expert on bicycle equipment and price ranges.

But for beginners, I would suggest dealing with your neighborhood bicycle shop for either purchases or maintenance. In my case, Dave and John at the Farmington Bike Shop have done a wonderful job at a reasonable price.

I left South Haven around 8:45 Sunday morning for the first leg of the trip. I rode 40 miles and arrived in Plainwell just before 2:00. I would have arrived sooner, were it not for numerous photo stops. I aimed my camera at an old barn flanked by livestock and a stone wall. The owner happened to come by and told me Joe Louis used to train there.Had I whizzed by in a car, I never would have discovered that.

As my first day of biking comes to an end, I leave you with this rhyme:
In hills and headwinds, huff and puff.But forty miles was not so tough. I'm lovin' life while gettin' bikin'-in. Tomorrow will I beg for Vicoden?

Roger

Plainwell to Battle Creek

Monday, June 26, 2006

While biking from Plainwell to Battle Creek, I reached a top speed of 32 MPH.
Never mind the fact that I was on a downhill slope worthy of rappelling gear. I briefly flirted with visions of blinding speed.
OFFICER: "Hey, buddy, where's the fire?"

WEBER: "Only in my aching legs, sir."

OFFICER: "I clocked you going 32 in a 25 mile an hour zone."

WEBER: "I am proud to be guilty!"

OFFICER: "I'm going to have to write you a ticket."

WEBER: "Go ahead, make my day."

Actually, PALM is not a race. People leave and arrive on their own schedule. The most important thing, obviously, is that they get there safely.

PALM riders help each other my yelling out that a car is approaching from behind, and by alerting slower riders that they're being passed on the left. Helmets are mandatory. Safety is stressed at the nightly meetings.

Railroad tracks are among the greatest hazards. If you don't cross them at a 90 degree angle, your wheels can be gobbled up by the space around the rails. Several people have ignored this advice and fallen in previous rides.

While heading to Battle Creek, I spent about ninety minutes at the Gilmore Car Museum. No offense to the Henry Ford, but this is the greatest collection of classic cars I've ever seen. 200 vehicles are on display spanning 100 years. They are shown in huge reconstructed barns, which makes the experience even more enjoyable.

This was a hot day, and we covered 54 miles. But I'm here, ready to pitch my tent and prepare for tomorrow's ride to Leslie.
Does anybody have a radar detector I could borrow?

Roger

arriving at point A

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Forget yesterday’s comments about whether I’ve lost my sanity riding a bicycle across the state. I know I’m in good hands.

The staff of PALM (Pedal Across Lower Michigan) could organize any human activity, with the possible exception of the rebuilding of Iraq. This is PALM’s 25th ride, and they’ve really got it down.

750 cyclists arrived today at South Haven High School, the starting point of our great adventure. We will pedal to Plainwell, Battle Creek, Leslie, Chelsea and Dundee, and end in Luna Pier. I’ve already posed with my back wheel in Lake Michigan. Next Friday, if all goes according to plan, I’ll dip my front wheel in Lake Erie. The PALM volunteers truck our clothes and camping gear to each stop along the way.

An enormous tent city has mushroomed on the school grounds. We can shower inside, use the swimming pool and gym, and eat in the cafeteria.

Tonight, after a short warm-up ride to the lake, I attended an introductory meeting. The safety lessons are invaluable.

I’ll tell you more later about how PALM pulls off this ambitious journey. It starts at 6:30 tomorrow morning.

Roger

getting ready

Pardon me if I’m a little preoccupied, but I’m packing.

Clothes? Check
Camera? Check.
Tent? Check.
Schwinn? Check.
Sanity?

Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve lost that.--or so it would seem. After all, this weekend I’m going to begin riding a bicycle across Michigan.

Actually, I have some good reasons.

I can’t be crazy. 700 other people are on the same journey, an annual event known as PALM--Pedal Across Lower Michigan.
I’d like to be emancipated from the automobile, getting 20 miles to the granola bar.
I want to experience the state’s scenery and citizens along the back roads.

I’ll put up with mosquitoes, sunburn, weary legs and life in a tent. No problem.

Blogging may be a bigger challenge than biking, especially lashing my laptop to the handlebars.

Did I have you going there for a second?

Anyway, I’m going to attempt blog entries each night. Once I describe the experience, you may want to try it yourself.

Or you may decide that I really have lost my sanity.

Roger