Take away rain; that wasn’t in the picture. Now think about all the other possible conditions that could make riding a bike long distance feel like hell. Let’s see, there’s headwind, heavy traffic, high-speed passing cars, terrible roads, bad smells, heat, no shoulder. Oh yeah, and add in high mileage and sleeping outside for less than seven hours the night before. So that was yesterday, at least part of it.

The day started decently. I woke up at seven outside an elementary school. It was the only place I could find the night before that seemed safe, quiet, and lacking mosquitoes. I didn’t get there until after midnight. I knew people would be around in the morning, so I set my alarm to get up and out early. I didn’t waste any time, just got up, packed up my sleeping bag and started riding. The wind was at my back, and I rode for over an hour before stopping at a park to eat breakfast. I took my time and relaxed, knowing I was going to reach Chicago that evening and have a place to stay. Plus, I was tired.

I passed into Indiana with no problems, and it was quite peaceful for a bit, with little traffic and plenty of trees. I took a long lunch break at a state park. A little after that, as I made my way into Gary, Indiana, conditions really turned to shit. The area is very industrial, with all sorts of chemical and coal and who knows what else plants along the bottom of Lake Michigan. The wind comes in off the lake, so that puts all those nasty smells right in the way of my nose. But I pressed on because there is nothing else I can do. Gradually, the shoulder narrowed until it was pretty much nonexistent. I was forced to move into the right lane. The road was terrible, with potholes and loose concrete and debris. A bumpy ride, for sure. On top of all this, the highway was now a fairly busy thoroughfare and the traffic, and speed of the traffic, increased significantly.

I must have made a wrong turn at some point, as I ended up on a freeway for a mile or so. Here there was a wide shoulder, but it was completely littered with some pretty harsh debris. By the time I realized that it was a full-on freeway, however, I had gone too far to turn back, so I pushed on. I had to wait for three exits until I finally found an off-ramp that would take me back to the highway 12 I was on before. In the meantime, a very thoughtful and concerned citizen traveling the opposite direction, was kind enough to lean his head out his window and yell at me that what I was doing wasn’t legal. Thanks for the compassion.

Made my way back onto highway 12 to pass through some even nastier industrial areas, as the wind now became a direct headwind. Finally, I reached Illinois, although I never saw a sign for it, and Chicago. I thought I was just about there. I found that there is a bike path that runs along the lake, so I hopped on that, thinking it would just be a few minutes to my cousin’s place. Soon, however, I found out that she lives on the complete north end of the city, and I was still about 10 miles away. Suck! The wind was fierce, and I was thoroughly exhausted, having already covered 90 miles, but the end was in sight, and I was tired of being on my bike. I put my head down and set my pistons to overdrive. It was a rush making my way through the busy path, past bikers and joggers and rollerbladers. I had a real feeling of power and strength, easily passing all these fitness and racing cyclists with 100 pounds of gear on my clunky old steel frame. Just an ego trip, but it helped me to keep my pace up, setting targets of people to pass.

Before not too long, I finally made it, absolutely pooped. Jessica and Henry have a nice third-story apartment in what seems like a nice part of town, near Lincoln Square. Last night we went out to eat and had a beer. After six very long days on the road, I am definitely ready for a break for a few days. I don’t have any real plans for the city yet, but today the three of us are taking an architecture tour of the city by boat that goes up the river and out on the lake. That sounds pretty cool.

Earlier this morning I was taking a look at a map to see where I am going next. I realized that it is just over 400 miles to Minneapolis, but then another 1000 miles to Great Falls from there. Damn! I have already covered over 2000 miles now, but I still have so much more to do. My progress in the last few days, however, has really helped me realize what I am capable of. I have a feeling that much of the next couple weeks, traveling through states like South Dakota and Montana and Wyoming, are going to be more of the same idea: high miles, long days, days off only at my destinations.

The last few days have been an adventure, for better or worse. My second day in Canada was my longest day yet, by far. I woke up at 6 and was on the road just before 8. I cycled most of the day with about a two hour break on the internet doing work and writing. Normally I stop before it gets dark, as I don’t like riding at night, but there was really no good places to stop by the time 8 o’clock rolled around. That left about an hour or so of dusk before real nighttime set in. I decided to keep going on toward a town that I knew would take me about an hour to get to. Nothing but farms along the way, corn fields and cow pastures. None looked suitable for camping and I didn’t feel like knocking on a random door. So I pushed on until I reached Blenheim. I arrived around 9:30 and found a little burger joint still open selling dollar burgers. I went in and ordered one, then asked about camping in the area. One guy told me about camping on the beach (lake), but it was a bit out of the way and would have taken another half hour or more to reach. There was also a city park not too far down the road that no one went to at night. That would work.

So after chatting a while and getting some free ice cream, I went to the park. A few teens were there, but they didn’t stay long. I set up my sleeping bag on top of a picnic table under a big pavilion. All was quiet by 11pm when I laid down to sleep. Just as I was getting into some good sleep, around midnight, I heard a truck pulling down the dirt road into the park. Some teens pulled into the parking lot and started doing donuts, yelling. Not wanting to be vulnerable laying down, I got out of my sleeping bag and sat on the bench of the table. The truck had kicked up a huge cloud of dirt and dust. The four kids, three guys and one girl, got out and saw me sitting down. They wanted to know who I was so they walked over. One kid got right up in my face trying to recognize me or something. Some of them, including him, were obviously drunk. He saw the bike and asked the usual questions. When I told him, he was blown away. He got really excited and started talking about how he wanted to walk across Canada. I told him to go ahead and get started. They chatted with me a little while longer, even though I was obviously exhausted. The one kid just kept repeating that what I am doing is awesome and that he was gonna walk across Canada when he was 19. It got old. Finally one of them asked if I was tired and I said yes. They left after all shaking my hand. It was funny. I couldn’t wait to get back to sleep.

Next morning I got started relatively early, maybe around 10, knowing I had a long day ahead of me. It was brutal, nothing but headwinds, at least 10-15 mph, constantly. That on top of the road not having much of a shoulder made for exhausting riding. When trucks came the opposite direction I had to lean forward, throw my head down, and give everything to push forward through the blast of wind. When trucks came from behind me, I tried my best to sit up and act as a sail to ride their current.

This day I was down to just one dollar, and pretty much out of food. I didn’t really pass through any cities along the way, mostly just farms and an occasional tiny town. I decided to pick up some fruit to eat. I could afford two cucumbers, and I figured that was a good option since they are watery and I was just about out of water. By the time I reached the border town of Windsor, Canada, I was exhausted and maybe a bit dehydrated, and definitely very hungry. I was anxious to get back to the states to use my US dollars.

From Windsor, there are two ways to cross over to Detroit: one being a bridge, and the other a tunnel. Since I had ridden across the bridge from Niagara Falls, I found it only natural that I should be able to ride across this one as well. As I approached, there were no signs saying otherwise, so I proceeded. Before I could reach the toll gates, however, a utility truck honked at me, called me over. He told me I would have to take a bus across at the tunnel. No bikes across the bridge. He said there was a fare for the bus and it should take bikes, but if not, I would have to catch a cab across. So I followed his directions a mile or so north to catch the bus at the tunnel. I pulled all the bags off my bike at the stop, preparing it to put on a front bike rack. The bus pulled up, a few people approached, and they told me they couldn’t bring a bike across. Even though the bus had a rack, the driver said he couldn’t put it down to cross the tunnel; it would make the vehicle too long. I must have seemed pretty desperate when I asked if there was anything I could do, how I would get across. The bus driver was sympathetic and asked if anyone (the six people on board) would mind if I brought my bike on board. Everyone was rooting for me, so they didn’t care. The driver said it was against policy and he could lose his job, but he seemed to genuinely want to help. I asked the far for the bus: $3-something. He asked if I had money, I said all I have is a twenty, does he have change. It was a fare machine at the front. No change. ‘Just get on,’ he said.

Oh boy, was I grateful! I thought for a moment that I was going to get stuck in Canada or have to pay for a cab. But I made it across into Detroit. No real problems at customs. They ran my bags through an X-ray machine though. So I rode into Detroit in search of a map to find my way to Ann Arbor, where I would be couchsurfing. I asked a few people about tourism centers or chambers of commerce. No real great-sounding help. A cop pointed me toward City Hall. On the way I ran into some bikers and decided to ask them about bike shops, figuring a shop would either have a bike map or know a route. They pointed me to a shop in downtown, said one guy there would know a route. I found the shop, The Hub, and it was run by some kids my age. It was a really cool shop with used bikes they had built up from donated bikes and parts. Everyone was incredibly friendly, and after looking up the route and seeing it was another 40 miles to Ann Arbor, one of the managers, Joe, said he could give me a ride there. It was already four o’clock by the time I got to the shop, and I was so exhausted already from riding through Canada, I knew there was no way I could make the 40 miles in decent time. I took the ride.

So he drove me to Ann Arbor and dropped me off at Christopher and Tyra’s house, where they live with their adorable little daughter. They already had some delicious fajitas ready with chicken and peppers and onions, rice and beans, cheese and salsa. I chowed down. Their friend Corey, an avid cyclist, came over. We talked and played a board game called Ingenious, which I had never seen before but is very fun. Corey gave me a pair of handlebars from his collection of bike parts when I told him that mine were not terribly comfortable. Thank you for that. I’m going to swap them out when I get to Chicago.

Staying with Christopher and Tyra was really great. They were excellent hosts, fed me well, and we talked a lot. I left their place at 3pm yesterday after some waffles for breakfast, a trip to Trader Joe’s, and some gnocci with awesome homemade pesto. It was a really late start, but I figured I would just keep riding until I got too tired. I did that and ended up in a small town called Concord, around 9. I found a big catholic church that looked very suitable for sleeping outside. It had a covered entryway and was off the main road, so I figured no one would bother me. Being a Saturday night, I knew I had to get up before mass began the next morning, which was eight. I figured that was a good thing, as it would force me to get an early start. After changing, putting on my long pants and long sleeves to protect against skeeters, and laying out my sleeping pad, I was ready to go to bed by ten. I didn’t unpack my sleeping bag because I figured I didn’t need it. It was so warm and muggy outside, I was already hot enough just wearing long sleeves. For three hours I lay and tried to get to sleep. It was impossible, due to the heat and the mosquitos. There weren’t many of them, but they would come every five minutes or so and buzz around my ears. I would swat them away or jerk my head to the side quickly to make them leave. And they would, but only for a little while, then return. So this went on, and I was never able to actually get to sleep, just into a half-sleeping daze.

Finally around 1am I decided to get up and walk around a bit, eat a bagel, and try to calm down. It was working, and I was calming down a bit, but it was still very hot and I was itchy from what I thought were mosquito bites. (I found out today it’s probably poison ivy.) Just as I was laying back down, this time with my sleeping bag, thinking it would offer me some comfort and help me get to sleep, it started raining. Light at first, but continually becoming more intense. There was thunder and lightning. The overhang above me was not too wide, only about 20 feet, and I had opted to sleep toward the edge of the walkway, in case someone came early in the morning, so I wouldn’t be in their way to the door. I didn’t want to upset anyone. As the rain picked up, however, it splashed off the rocks next to the concrete and spattered on me a bit. Also a rushing waterfall had formed on either side from water running down the corrugated tin roof. On top of that, the wind was blowing some rain in on the side I was set up on. So I moved to the other side, thinking I would be safe there, but the waterfall on that side was also splattering tons of water on the walkway. I was forced to the middle of the walkway, but I stayed a bit away from the doors. That was no good either, as the whole sidewalk started becoming wet. The only dry patch left was right in front of the entry doors. So that’s where I moved my stuff. I sat up and listened to the rain come pouring down, only able to see it when the lightning flashed. I wondered how long it would go on, and what I would do if the whole walkway became wet or flooded. Luckily it never came to that. After a little over a half hour since it started, the storm moved off to the northeast, leaving a clear sky littered with stars. Finally, at 2am, I was able to lay down and fall asleep.

I woke up around 5:30 from the sound of someone opening the doors. It must have been a maintenance man. I apologized, but he said it was okay and that he would only be there for ten minutes. I asked when people started coming around and he said twenty before eight. So I went back to sleep and reset my alarm, which has been set for 5:40, to 7am. Just after the alarm went off, as I was getting up and beginning to pack up, the pastor came. I apologized to him as well, saying I had intended to be gone before anyone came, but he said it was okay and asked if I needed to use the bathroom. I did. When I was done, I continued to pack. The pastor came out and asked me some questions. He said he was glad that I had felt safe and sheltered there for the night. That made me feel good to hear someone say something so kind. He handed me twenty bucks and told me to go get some warm breakfast. I accepted.

So far today has been pretty nice. It was foggy and overcast in the morning, making for a nice, quiet, surreal ride. That all burned off by 11 and became pretty warm. It has been hot with some headwinds, but my energy level has remained fairly high. I’ve already done 60 miles by 3pm, and I plan on riding a few more hours before I stop. I’ll probably be in Chicago on Tuesday, although if I pushed it, I could make it there tomorrow. I don’t know if it’s worth it to put myself through that. A night of sound sleep would be better now.

Yesterday morning I left Niagara Falls, where I stayed with one of the most accommodating hosts yet, Bill. Despite living in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment, he made it work well. The falls were nice, but a bit too touristy for me, so I didn’t spend a whole lot of time there. I enjoyed my little private spot, where I could gaze down the canyon to the river below and see the mist rising from the falls, more than being right at the falls.

No real problems getting across the border, which is fantastic considering my track record. The guy asked me a bunch of questions, and I was completely honest again, but this time it worked and I passed through with no special treatment. Getting out of the Niagara Falls area found me on some really busy roads with scarcely a shoulder, save some big, rough gravel. Several kilometers later and I was on local highways amid vast farmland.

I was fortunate to receive some free plums and peaches from a woman at a roadside farm stand, and a while later I picked an ear of corn from a farm on the side of the road. I decided I was going to try to get through Canada without spending any money. Unfortunately that didn’t last long, as the produce stands became nonexistent the rest of the day. I had to stop at a dollar store to pick up some macaroni and saltines.

I camped last night for free at a campground on a lake. It was beautiful, and there were some friendly seasonals there who shared their fire and a few cookies. I was glad to have company and conversation. The night was chilly, but I stayed warm in my hammock with my rainfly on. It does a lot to insulate. The campsite wasn’t actually free, but I arrived after the ranger left last night, so I had to get out before 8 am this morning. I awoke at six just to be sure. I figured it was worth it to not pay. Actually, I couldn’t have really payed anyway, as I only have a few Canadian dollars- some coins left over from a previous trip. I didn’t exchange any money at the border because I don’t have much left, and I didn’t want to waste any in exchange rates and fees. So I’m trying to get by this whole time with only $5.50 Canadian. I have 2.48 left. I think I can make it, as I should pass into Michigan early tomorrow.

The rain has disappeared without a trace and left hot, cloudless skies. I don’t mind. Passing nothing but farmland for endless kilometers can be therapeutic, and people have been really friendly. Doing longer days has also been good for me mentally. It really helps me clear my mind.

I’m hoping tonight that I will be able to find someone to stay with. I could use a shower and a good meal. I’m not holding an expectations, though. As long as I stay warm, I’ll be fine. Now I need to get some work done and hit the road again.

After a week trekking across the state of New York, through some ugly weather and beautiful farmland, I have reached the western edge, marked by those magnificent falls, a mighty tourist mecca of gushing water. While the physical demands were not terribly rigorous, mentally, crossing New York was strenuous. I have been struggling with finding drive and meaning to my journey now. Every inspiration I have found seems to be fleeting, not lasting more than a day. Still, at a relatively slow pace, I have trucked on.

Now I find myself at the end of the state and hopefully the end of an era. Tomorrow I will cross the bridge over the Niagara River into Ontario, Canada. From there it is into Michigan and on towards Chicago, my first family visit. I have decided to increase my daily mileage starting tomorrow. I am going to shoot to cover at least 65 miles a day, aiming more toward eighty. Yesterday morning I ran into three kids about my age who were heading west. They began in British Columbia the day after I left Knoxville and were heading to Maine. Having been on the road just one day less than myself, they had covered over a thousand miles more. For a minute I felt inferior, wondering why I had accomplished less in the same period of time. Really, though, there is no comparing our trips. They seemed to be just doing it for the accomplishment, a summer of travel after graduation. They were heading west, with the wind, and had already passed through the west and midwest, an area where doing long days of high mileage is really the best option. It was great to meet some fellow cyclists. I wish I could have spent a bit more time chatting with them, but they set out to cover some miles. Only going around 35 miles to Niagara Falls yesterday, I took my time getting out of town.

Before I met these kids, I had already devised my plan to cover more miles per day. I think this will really help my spirits and my energy. Lately I have ended each day, having only covered 30 or 40, maybe 50, miles, not feeling the satisfaction that comes from the exhaustion after 60 or 70 or more miles. And really, I haven’t had any reason to do such short days. I thought it was good to not make haste, but I found myself stuck in the opposite, not moving forward enough. So I plan to cover more miles per day, keeping good momentum, and stopping when there is something worth stopping for, whether it be family stops or exhaustion or a beautiful view. The forecast of snow and crossing the Rockies still looms in the future, and I have to recognize that and act accordingly.

The rain hasn’t shown itself the last few days, despite the constant forecast of isolated and scattered thunder storms. In its stead, wind has decided to take over as the antagonizing force. Yesterday was particularly brutal with twenty-mile-an-hour headwind and gusts over thirty mph. That pretty much doubled my travel time.

Today I am taking a day off, resting up and enjoying the beauty of the river and falls here. Currently I am taking a mid-afternoon break to get on the computer and write and work. The weather today so far has been nearly ideal- warm with a cool breeze, blue skies, white puffy clouds, clear air. I am posting pictures of the last few days and today and will post the rest of today’s pictures later.

So tomorrow shall mark a new stretch of this trip. I will be passing into Canada and turning my phone off to avoid ridiculous charges. I think it will take me about two days to get back into the states. I will be covering more miles, staying focused on my goal of visiting all the family before weather conditions become too adverse. I’m looking forward to this new mindset.

It is late, and I am tired, but I wanted to write to let anyone and everyone know I am safe and still pedaling. Tonight I sleep in a town called Pittsford, just east of Rochester. I am staying with a girl named Tate, who is a friend of Liz, the girl I couchsurfed with two nights ago in Syracuse. I just watched Phelps conquer his eighth gold. What a stud. This is the first chance I have had to see the Olympics. What a glorious event, all these athletes realizing all their hard work and living their dreams. I can empathize somewhat.

Lately the weather has been dry, which is great. My stay in Syracuse was fun. I watched Flash Gordon, a cheesy but fun film from the 80s with a score by Queen. The next day I made it to a small town called Clyde. There was a carnival going on and fireworks. The people were mostly rowdy and obnoxious, but I made friends with some volunteer firemen, who shared some food and drink tickets with me. The fireworks were okay. They lacked any passion, I felt. I spent the night at a park right on the Eerie Canal. After midnight the town finally got quiet and I was able to sleep. Surprisingly the mosquitoes were not too bad, although I think I got bit around the eyes, as they were swollen when I woke up this morning. And yes Bill, I am wishing I had let you buy me that mosquito headnet.

Today was mostly a nice day with some wicked headwind at the end. I feel that a calm is finally beginning to come over me. Part of it must have to do with the rain finally letting up. Boy am I thankful for that. I’ll take the heat any day of the week over rain, I tell ya. Also, I am coming to terms with what this trip has begun. My mindset during the first leg was focused on a destination: Rhode Island. That was the primary purpose of the trip. I knew where I was ending up, and I just had to get there. Now, I have no final destination set. I have plenty of stops along the way, but I don’t know where this will end. I left Rhode Island with the mindset still of having a destination. I can’t do that anymore, however. The focus has to change. Now, this is just life. For the next couple months I will be living on my bike, and that is the extent of this. I have no where to be, just places I want to go. Realizing this, I find a lot of comfort and relaxation.

I feel that I can finally begin to answer the questions that everyone has been asking lately that I haven’t had good responses to. I’m biking around the country because I want to, because I love adventure, I love nature, and I seem to love adversity. I like meeting new people and seeing new sights, and I have a natural inclination to explore. There’s no larger cause and no final destination yet. It’s just adventure, plain and simple.

I must get to sleep. I’m very excited to think that I will be at Niagara Falls in two days. I will be crossing into Canada at that point for a few days. I will have to turn my phone off, otherwise I may get charged four dollars a minute or some ridiculous amount like that, as I did last year without knowing it. I don’t want another $150 phone bill. I’m not even sure yet how I’m going to pay this month’s bill.

Feel free to call me anytime in the next two days. I would love the good conversation. Good night.

I write this correspondence outside the Passport Inn in Schuyler, New York, where I slept last night. I didn’t pay for the room. Last night, after the rain had finally let up, as the sun was beginning to set, I was reaching a point where I needed to stop for the night. I came across a church, Slavic Pentecostal. There were lots of cars there and obviously something going on, so I stopped in. It was 7pm. I asked a man walking in with his family if there was a service going on tonight. He said there was and that I should stay. I told him that I was traveling through and looking for a dry place to sleep tonight. He said I should stay for the service, and I would surely find something. He said the service was two hours long, so I was hesitant. By then, it would be completely dark, and if I didn’t find something, well, then I would have to find something. Of course then I reminded myself that I needed to just have faith. Something would work out, and even if no one here could put me up, there was an awning in front of the church that would keep me dry. I’ll admit that it took a bit to convince myself to stay, but I had no where else to go, and I was wet and tired. So I stayed.

I went inside to listen to the service. The place was packed, and it wasn’t a small church either. The service, however, was completely in Russian. I understood nothing. I stood around for a few minutes then decided to change clothes and wait outside for a bit and eat some dinner. As nine rolled around, I went back inside in hopes of talking to someone or seeing the man I had talked to before the service began. As I sat in the foyer area, a man, one of the pastors, came up and asked me who I was. I told him my situation and asked if he might be able to help me find a place to stay. I asked if I could sleep in the church. He told me they had no place for me to stay, no bed. I told him I didn’t need a bed; I just wanted a dry place to lay my head. He said to wait until the service was done.

As the service completed and people came bustling out into the lobby, chatting and greeting, I stood and waited. Some young guys talked to me for a bit, obviously recognizing that I did not belong there. They were friendly but not very talkative. The pastor returned a few times, telling me to stay a little longer; he would have something. Finally he returned and told me some people were going to take me to the motel down the street. I informed him that I did not have enough money to pay for a motel room. He said they were going to pay for it. I told him that wasn’t necessary; I would be fine with just sleeping at the church; no need for them to pay that money. He said it was just fifty dollars, not a big deal. I accepted. Why not. Warm shelter, a shower, and even internet, it turns out. And this morning, as I have been typing this text, the manager here came up and handed me five dollars to get breakfast at the diner next door. Thank you.

These last few days have been rough. It has rained every single day since I left Rhode Island, save one. Two days ago I managed to somehow miss most of it, only catching some sprinkles here and there. It poured some places just before I arrived, but I stayed pretty dry. That night I slept outside at a big park/shrine/church. It was beautiful: a big park with walking trails and a coliseum-style church building. I slept, with permission of one of the priests, on a porch outside one of the buildings, a welcome center or something. It was quiet and peaceful there. Once the sun went down, all the walkers left and I was alone- just me and the mosquitos. And what a hoard there was. I put on long pants, a long-sleeve shirt, a beenie cap, and tied a handkerchief around my neck. That left only my hands and face exposed. I was devoured all night. There was no escape. I should have set up my hammock, as it has a canopy of mosquito netting, but I didn’t want to deal with setting it up/taking it down. Damn laziness. My face is covered with bites, all piled up on top of each other. I can resist the itch well, except when the sun is out and warm. Oh well. It’s all part of it, I suppose. As long as I don’t get malaria or bird flu or one of those other terrible mosquito-transmitted diseases, I’ll be fine.

I gotta say that I’m really getting tired of this rain, though. Everyone says this is the wettest summer they’ve had up here in a long time. Always a chance of scattered thunderstorms, every day. I know that once this system clears out it won’t be the last I see of rain on this journey, but I could sure use a little break, even if it means returning to the heat. All I have to do with the heat is make sure I drink lots and lots of water and get plenty of potassium. That’s cake compared to getting soaked every day and riding on wet streets with cold, stinging rain battering my face.

Anyway, enough bitching. That’s life. The sun is shining now. I have five dollars to eat breakfast. Tonight I will reach Syracuse, where I will be couchsurfing. Hell, I slept in a decent hotel room last night. It’s time to move on and move forward. I’ll be at Niagara Falls in a few days; then it’s on into Canada for a day or two. I still have a while before I reach family in Chicago, but I’m really looking forward to that.

And now, after a short conversation with Sue, the friendly housekeeper here at the Passport Inn (she said to make sure I mentioned her on here), I’m off again. Thanks for the bag of ice.

Saturday, August 9, 2008. 7:00am - I’m sleeping peacefully under a gazebo at St. Mary’s church in Putnam, Connecticut, minding my own business, when I hear voices coming toward me. Subconsciously I knew what was going on. Next thing I know, someone is nudging me in my sleeping bag with his foot and ordering me to get up. I open my eyes to find two police officers and another man standing over me, not looking pleased. The fact that I knew I had permission to be there and that it was 7am made me apathetic to any possible sense of trouble from the situation. As I began to sit up, I addressed the officer standing directly above me, the alarm clock. “How are you doing?” I asked, with no air of disrespect. “Better than you are,” was his reply. Are you serious?! Did this guy really just say that?! Those were my half thoughts as I further gained consciousness and wondered why the hell these guys were really there.

They started asking me questions, telling me I needed to get out, I shouldn’t be there. I told them I had permission to be there and that I had even notified the police the night before about my stay there. “Who did you talk to?” I told them I didn’t know the name of the officer; it was the one sitting behind the glass at the station. I told them the pastor of the church knew I was there, said it was okay. “Did you talk to him last night?” I told them about the people I met, them cooking the sauce for a spaghetti dinner for tonight, that they had called the pastor, and he gave his blessing for me to stay. Well, the pastor wasn’t up yet and couldn’t be reached to verify this yet, and the non-officer, the custodian of the church, was a real piece of work. They asked my name. I told them I go by Otis. “I don’t care what you go by. What’s your real name.” So I told them, gave them my id. They ran it through, found nothing on me. I told them I was just passing through, staying for a night, was completely in the right to be there. The police seemed to realize quickly, especially after running my id, that there was no real problem, nothing more worth their time. They left.

The custodian, Pete, however, was not so bright or cordial. Here’s some exchanges between the two of us:

Otis: ‘Look, I’m just staying here for a night. I have permission to be here.’

Pete: ‘Well, it’s morning now, so you need to put your shoes on and get out of here.’

Otis: ‘I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about this. Why are you treating me like this, like a second-class citizen?’

Pete: ‘You just need to leave. There are people walking by here to go into the chapel. They don’t want to see you laying here. Pack up and move on.’
And so on and so forth, with him just repeatedly telling me to leave right now, being a real asshole about things. I didn’t understand what his beef with me really was. Maybe he just doesn’t take kindly to people like me. I found out later that there had been a guy who squatted in one of the church’s buildings for a month before they found him not too long ago. When they found him, they kicked him out. He came back later, however. Now, evidently the custodian at first thought I was this guy, back again. In that case, I could understand why he might be upset. Some stubborn, disrespectful transient not listening to their requests and defiantly returning. I clearly established, however, my story, my approval to be there, my lack of any ill-intentions. It didn’t matter. It seems that this guy saw me as something less than a human, and that wasn’t going to change. That’s too bad. And unfortunately, it really got me upset for a few hours after the incident.

As Pete stood with a forced air of authority, watching me, I packed very slowly. It was early, I was still a bit groggy, and I had no rush to leave, so I took my time. I certainly wasn’t going to make haste for this character. After about five or six minutes, he left. What a piece of work, that guy. I took my time, allowing my shoes and socks to dry in the warm morning sun. By the time they were mostly dry it was about 9am, and I knew the people I met last night were going to be returning to finish preparing for their dinner. So I went over to the main building to use the bathroom and fill my water. Along the way I ran into the pastor of the church. He was very nice and apologized for the custodian and told me about the squatter they had. All I could do was laugh about the situation.

The rest of the day was nice. The weather held up all day, and it was actually very beautiful. The sky was a gorgeous sky-blue with tasty white, puffy clouds. I couldn’t help but take a ton of pictures. With that kind of backdrop, almost any landscape looks perfect. I made my way into Massachusetts, where I found myself in a town called Russell as the sun was beginning to set. I decided to try to find a church to sleep by since I was now in the hills and not sure how far the next town would be. There was a catholic church right on the side of the highway, but no one there to talk to. There was a protestant church just a few houses down the street, so I rolled over there. On the bulletin board outside was the number for the pastor, so I thought I would give a call and ask permission. So I called the number and someone answered. The board only told the last name, so I asked if this was the pastor of such and such church. It was the pastor’s wife; she passed the phone. Here was our conversation:

Otis: “Hi, is this the pastor of such and such church?”

Preacher of the Good Word: “Yes. Are you trying to sell something?”

Otis: (chuckling) “No. I’m not selling anything. My name is Otis and I’m just passing through town on my bicycle, making my way across the country. I am just looking for a place to lay my head for the night, and I was wondering if I might sleep outside your church tonight.”

Preacher of the Good Word: “No, I’m sorry, that’s not going to happen. Good bye.”

Otis: “Wow! Do you…”

He hung up. I can only imagine that his sermons on Sunday are full of love and good cheer.

So on down the road I went. I was told by a girl at a liquor store that the Mennonites would be good people to talk to, but there was no one at their church. The house across the street looked like it was affiliated, but no one there as well. Next door was a VFW center. I checked in there, but no one seemed around, despite a few cars in the parking lot. They did have a tempting covered picnic area, however. I was about to go check it out when a couple in a pickup truck pulled around and asked if I needed something. I reported my situation and inquired about the picnic area. They said it was covered with sensors, and if I moved at all up there that night, the state police would be there in minutes. Not a good idea. They also recommended the Mennonites and told me about a farm stand and furniture store they had down the road.

I rolled down the hill and found the farm stand and furniture store closed (it was 7pm). There were some houses right there, so I inquired. Only a woman home. She informed me I should wait until the men returned from their gospel in the park in an hour or so. I felt good about the possibilities, so I stuck around outside and ate some dinner- summer sausage, cucumber, tomato and crackers. An hour and a half later, as I was beginning to have doubts that this was going to work out, the men returned. A man named Ron Hess, whose house I was sitting outside of and owned the property and furniture store, was very friendly and invited me in for some food. His eight children and wife eventually followed. As I ate a little of their leftover dinner, he told me I could stay with a man named Brian, who lived in one of his apartments behind the house. The whole place, I guess, was an old motel and pizza joint that he converted to his house and some apartments. I was very grateful to have a warm and dry place to sleep for the night. Ron invited me to come to breakfast with him and his family the next morning and suggested I should come to their church service as well. I told him I would sleep on it, as I had a long way to get to Albany the next day.

Brian was very friendly, and we had good conversation. He helped me understand what the Mennonites believed and what sort of set them apart from other Christians. I had never had any experience with them before. Brian had only come into the church recently, so I felt he had a good perspective on the situation.

The next morning I said goodbye to Brian and headed up to Ron’s house for breakfast. It was interesting to be there for that. I’ve never experienced a family that large before. The children were fairly well behaved. None of them talked to me. Two of the little girls seemed to be constantly staring at me, though. One was a bit bashful and would look away if I returned the gaze, but the other had shame and would continue to stare. But everyone was polite, and Ron really wanted me to come to church, but I had to decline to hit the road. Before I left, they were very helpful and told me about other Mennonites along the way I might run into and gave me some contact information. I was very glad to have met these people and had this experience.

The rest of the day was mostly beautiful, winding through the Berkshires in western Massachusetts. There were some long climbs, plenty of trees, and some fast declines. Rain began around 2, I think. It was a chilly rain that stung my eyes at times, but it wasn’t too heavy. I rode on through it. As I entered New York, the rain gradually let up as the road became more downhill than up. I was grateful for that. Pulling into Albany, I was thoroughly exhausted and ready to be done for the day. It was around 7. I had begun at 9:30. I was glad to be couchsurfing and my host Thao and her friend Laura were really friendly.

I got to bed a bit later than I wanted, around 2am. I knew that was going to spell trouble. The next morning I awoke just before 9am, exhausted. I got up, thought, and decided I was going to ride. I wasn’t feeling to great. I packed up and ate some granola and set out to find some maps. I had trouble finding the tourism center, and a cop was a real asshole to me, but I eventually found it. I realized my rear tire was low on pressure, despite having pumped it up the day before. I figured I should probably just change the tube. So I parked in front of the capital building to do that. I made decent haste, not wasting any time, but as I was finishing up, putting the wheel back on the frame, sky opened up with torrential downpour. I scrambled to pack up, as my bags were all open and taking in water. The only shelter right nearby were some trees. They were not terribly efficient cover, but I got everything closed up. Within a minute, however, the spot where my bags were sitting had become a small river. I was soaked. With my tiredness, lack of strength, and the terrible storm rolling through, I decided it was best not to ride that day. I needed some rest.

Luckily Thao was kind enough to let me stay another day. We had some tasty falafel and I hung out with Laura the rest of the day until Thao got off work. Then we went and did some yoga at a free class. It was great to have that, to get some relaxing stretching and breathing. I pulled a muscle in my back somehow, and that had been hurting. The yoga helped with that a bit. It’s still tight, though. As I stretched and practiced the yoga, I began to relax, but I also began to realize just how bad of shape I was in. Not that I’m not strong or flexible, but just that my body and spirit are not doing so well at the moment. I’ve got a lot of bad energy roaming around and hiding out inside. I need to get back on track and turn that around.

I think some of it has been the rain and being so wet and my stuff being all wet. It seems so hard to relax and just be when it’s raining and you have to ride. Maybe I’m a bit anxious about getting to Niagara falls as well. I didn’t realize how big New York state is, and I’m finding that it is going to take a few days longer to get there than I planned. I guess that’s not a big deal. I know these feelings also are coming from anxiety over all the things I want to get done. I want to write more, and I told myself that I would be much more disciplined about that on this leg of the trip, but I haven’t kept up too well. I am also finding that I am not prepared for bad weather, and I know I can expect much more of that before I’m done with this trip. I’ll have to work on that. On top of that, I have computer work I need to do, and it is really hard to find time to get that done while on the road, since it usually requires an internet connection. And I have a long list of people I want or need to call. So much to do, and it seems like so little time if I try to get good rides in every day. Oh what to do.

Anyway, that’s just a little venting. It’s good to write things down and express them. I’ll work on letting go of some of this negative energy and getting some things done. It looks like today is going to be a short-distance day. I got a late start and I’m taking some time now to get on the computer and post. I was planning on making it to Syracuse in two days, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. Oh well. No rush. Best to keep healthy.

Lovely weather. Rain. Thunder. Lightning. Plenty more rain. Heavy storm. Some sunshine and blue skies. That was today. I don’t think I made it too far today due to a rather late start. I woke up at 6:30 to have breakfast with Bill and Kathy and returned to bed shortly thereafter for a little snooze before beginning the day. Well, that snooze turned into a few more hours of sleeping. I was tired. You would think with yesterday being my initial departure date, then taking an extra day off before leaving, that I would have been all set to go this morning. Wrong. It only took about an hour and a half to pack up, but I didn’t get out of bed until 11, so I wasn’t really on the road until about 1pm. Oh well.

The day started out nice: blue skies, white clouds, a bike path to ride on. By three the dark clouds rolled in the first time and let down some water. It rained for about 10 minutes, just long enough for me to get wet, pull over and put on my rain gear. It stopped shortly after that for a while. At 4:30, as I was taking a break to cook and eat some rice, showers and dark clouds resumed. I finished up my meal, packed up, and headed out. The rain started light and picked up a bit quickly. By 5:30 it was pouring down heavy. Big, fat, heavy drops coming down with a slight headwind. I couldn’t ride in it, not with the busy traffic on the highway. So I began looking for a church to stop at. Although I was in a small town, it didn’t look promising. I stopped at a Super Stop and Shop (grocery store) to find shelter for a bit and hopefully talk to some people. With the wind picking up, even under the overhang outside the store, I couldn’t find good shelter. I brought my bike inside, as there was a kind of entrance way before entering the actual store. I was able to use the restroom and dry up a bit and get a bagel. The storm was fierce. It poured for a good half hour with some wind and lots of lightning. As I was entering the store, a bolt struck right outside. The thunder was loud and all the lights went out in the store. They came back on within a matter of seconds, but it was quite a sight and experience. Just after 6, the storm had passed through and blue skies began to emerge again. I pushed on, hoping to find something soon.

I stopped at a fruit stand to get a kiwi and possibly ask for some direction to a church. A man there was very friendly, told me about the only church he knew of down the road. He also sent me off with some free fruit- more kiwi, bananas, and some peaches. I was very grateful. That will make for a great breakfast tomorrow. I was able to find the church he mentioned. It’s old and beautiful, but little in the way of overhangs, save a gazebo. There were some friendly people working here tonight, Pete, Doug, Jennifer, and Allen, making sauce for a spaghetti dinner tomorrow night. They let me use the bathroom in the church and struck up some friendly conversation. They also shared a beer and some cookies with me. Nice folks. So I’m here now under the gazebo. It’s actually pretty nice. There are power outlets, a overhead light that I can turn off and on, and a picnic table. Quite nice. So long as there are no real heavy winds tonight, I should stay dry. It is a bit nippy out tonight though. Some layers will keep me warm.
The new rain gear is working well so far. It is completely waterproof, as long as I button the buttons on the front over the zipper. It does get a bit hot in the jacket and pants, and they don’t breathe at all, so my sweat just kind of sticks around, but it’s definitely a better situation that what I was working with before. Thanks, again, Bill. Some of my gear, unfortunately, shared a different fate. I guess I didn’t close my bags up well enough, and with the heavy, heavy rain that came down, it found a way into my rear panniers. Nothing is soaked, just some things a bit wet. I’ll have to dry it out tonight. All of my electronics were safe, luckily.

It feels good to be back on the road. I had such a great stay in Rhode Island with my family for eight days, and now I have a few months of traveling to look forward to. In my head I know that I have a long way to go. Anytime I talk to someone and tell them I am heading to the west coast, they remind me that it is a long way. Still, the distance and time have not fully sunk in yet. I suppose that’s a good thing. Taking this journey day by day is probably my best option. If I can’t picture my final destination, it’s much more difficult to become anxious about getting there. It’s going to be a while on the road. I anticipate much more adventure on this leg of the journey, if for no other reason than the prolonged timeframe. Still, I’ll take everything the same as I did before and have faith that everything will be okay, and plenty of wonderful people will make my acquaintance along the way. I’ll keep you updated.

My health was okay today. The weather wasn’t bad this morning. I just wasn’t ready. I needed one more day.

I woke up thinking I was going to head out, but after getting some necessary tasks done and beginning to really get all packed up, I realized it was way too late to be rushing to get out the door. I don’t want any more stress; I want to be completely relaxed as I begin this next journey. It is going to be a long one, and there is no point getting it started with anxiety and unnecessary haste.

So I took today to get some work done. My front bags needed some patching, as they have become a bit worn from the trek so far. I got some computer work done, something I have been putting off for a while. I also got some extra time to spend with my grandparents. I gotta say that it was tough leaving their place today, knowing that this may be the last time I ever see them. I hope that isn’t the case, but my heart was heavy as I biked away.

Tomorrow, now, will be the day. I can feel it. I think the weather is going to be worse tomorrow, but that’s okay. I got the rain gear now to keep me dry.

Good night.

As I sit and write this, reflecting back on my stay here in Rhode Island for the past week, I can’t help but smile. The entire visit was fantastic, full of fun activities and great company. More than having a comfortable place to sleep and almost more food than I could eat thanks to uncle Bill and aunt Kathy, I was constantly surrounded by family, which is not something I am accustomed to, but something I thoroughly enjoy. It is a bit weird for me, though, to have so many people constantly know what I am doing, have already done, and am going to do at every moment, but I genuinely appreciate the love that it indicates.
While here I have been kept busy with many activities, including: walking the cliffs at Newport, eating seafood and watching great live music at a Seafood Festival, witnessing the mesmerizing beauty that is Waterfire in Providence, playing tennis and Wii and swimming with my cousins, and, of course, the reason for this whole trip in the first place, spending some quality time with my grandparents. Ninety years old and surprisingly independent (although not always for the best), they have been married for over sixty years now and are truly an inspiration to me. I am grateful to know them and have their love. I only hope they keep kicking for a while longer so I can visit them again next time around. They are amazing, and amazingly stubborn, people. But I think that’s part of what has kept them around for so long. They are troopers.

Also during my stay here, I took care of some necessary measures to continue on this journey. I made a small fix to my shifter mount, a wooden dowel attached to my seat post with a hose clamp, as it was starting to break. Thanks to uncle Bill, I now have some real waterproof rain gear. No more joking around with this stuff. I also was able to fit in a doctor’s visit, with a lyme test, a physical, and a tetanus booster shot. Well, the lyme test came back negative, which is comforting to a degree. I know, however, that those tests are not completely accurate and that lyme disease can show up later. For now, I have done what I can. The physical was thoroughly disappointing. I had prepared myself for a complete checkup, full of poking and prodding, and this and that. Eighty percent of what they did, I could have done myself or wasn’t really necessary. I know my blood pressure is fine. I know how tall I am and how much I weigh (145, by the way- a few pounds more than I weighed in Virginia Beach, which I think is due to the abundance of food at Bill and Kathy’s house). I know my eyes are okay and that my glands aren’t too swollen. No hernia check, no mention of the fact that on my chart I indicated I thought I had hemorrhoids, no testing of reflexes. In my opinion, the whole thing was not worth half of what it cost. Oh well. I feel healthy and ready for the next leg. I just wanted that little bit more peace of mind that a thorough doctor’s exam would give. Actually, I don’t feel entirely healthy and ready for the next leg. I think it is just the aftermath of the tetanus shot, but today I have been exhausted, a bit out of it, and had a really sore and swollen shoulder. The shoulder is obvious, but the tiredness and general feeling of poor health is not so straightforward. I’m just hoping that some good sleep tonight will leave me well-rested and ready for departure tomorrow. I’m not going to push it, however, and if I don’t feel at least 90% tomorrow morning, I won’t hesitate to wait another day and rest up more. I have a long ways to go, and taking a day to make sure I’m completely fit is not a big deal.

So, health and weather permitting, tomorrow shall mark the beginning of the next leg of my journey. The driving force behind this next section happens to be family as well. Tentatively I will be making stops in Chicago, Minneapolis, Great Falls, Denver, Las Vegas, and San Diego, hitting up all my family on my dad’s side as I make my way to the west coast. Then I will head north to Los Angeles to visit all my friends there, and then perhaps further north to Portland, Oregon, as a possible settling point. As of now, I don’t know my full route, how far I will go, how long it will take, or what I will do when I get there. I’m just going to try to take it one day at a time. And I can only hope that I am as blessed on this next venture as I have been on my journey here.

For now I have my sights set on Niagara Falls as my first major destination. While lacking family or friends there, I look forward to magnificent beauty and hopefully a smooth border crossing, unlike my barely successful attempts last year (see last year’s adventure link). I’m trying to not set any kind of deadline for the journey at hand, although the possibility of snow in the Rockies as early as late August/early September looms constantly in my mind. No matter what, though, I’m going to do my best to stay positive and have faith that everything is going to turn out okay. That’s really all I can do anyway, isn’t it. This is going to be a tough trip and a true test of my will and perseverance, but I look forward to it with great anticipation. I can’t think of anything I would rather be doing right now. Speaking of that, everyone asks me why ride my bike. ‘Why not fly or drive? Why make this long excursion?’ I don’t know; it just makes sense to me. Aside from the rewards that come from this mode of travel- the beauty, the self-confidence, the encounters with humanity -it just seems like the right thing for me to be doing with my life at this juncture. If something changes and it no longer feels right, well, then, I guess I’ll do something else. For now, as I said before, health and weather permitting, tomorrow sees the resumption of the journey, back on the bike, out on the road, one pedal stroke at a time.

I’m hoping for the best.

Pictures to come soon…