Memoirous

This has become a thing—for almost 12 years. I believe my first ride home from the Festival of Faith and Writing in the always unpredictable month of April—the weather, that is. I’ve had snow, sleet, rain (of course!) and sometimes too much heat. Heading home to Chicago, the ride took 4 days. It’s much more manageable going back to Okemos. Once again, I took Indian Trails up, prepped bike and took off for my host’s house—fabulously only 3 streets over from Calvin University, making getting back and forth during the Festival easy peasy. There’s always surprises at the Festival, small delights and big discoveries around books and authors I’m not acquainted with—same goes for this year. I’ve often wondered: does timing matter? The algorithm is all over the place. Upon first arriving, the energy is there, while on Saturday the last day, the emotional levels are depleted. Am I more open to the universe at the beginning or end? Just like the Michigan spring—there’s no predicting. The b...

 Eagle Lake Beach to Lansing--well, that didn't happen Wednesday July 6, 2022, 45 miles (72 km) - Total so far: 251 miles (404 km) The plan was to ride home to Okemos from Eagle Lake Beach, but weather set me back. AGAIN it stormed all night long. I checked my phone in the a,m, and it said ending by 7. Nope, then 9. I got started at 9 with my taillight blinking and being extra careful. There was an overgrown trail that bordered busy M-96 past the Fort Custer Armory and Veterans Building. After that I picked up Battle Creek Linear Park. AGAIN beautiful, by the river. So many rivers! I rode through the trees, on planks over ravines and waterways (I was careful as everything was wet and slippery). The North Branch of the Kalamazoo River runs into Battle Creek. Once I left Battle Creek I was on roadways with moderate hills. Humidity if not 100% was close. I could not stop sweating. My cycling gloves were white from salt. EVERYTHING was wet. At least the day was overcast, so no in...

 From along Lake Michigan to Eagle Lake Beach, Fort Custer Rec. Area Tuesday July 5, 2022, 68 miles (109 km) - Total so far: 206 miles (332 km) Well, more than fireworks lit up the sky--add thunder and lightning. It stormed all night long. I stayed dry in my tent and the rain stopped around 7 allowing me to get going at 8. Yet everything was clammy. Humidity fogged my sunglasses so I took them off--as well as the speedometer/computer on my bike. The Ironhorse is a piece of junk. It doesn't stop adding miles--even when I've stopped!! I didn't need it as the Google lady directed me to the Kalhaven trail where I cycled to the end where I met up with the Kalamazoo Valley Trail. The heat was again intense once I finished the shady parts through the woods. As the Kalhaven came to an end it was uphill and the trail was wide through the trees. Very beautiful. At the end is a little park with a caboose. I kept following the KVT through Kalamazoo and along the River to the east...

Grand Rapids to along Lake Michigan Monday July 4, 2022, 63 miles (101 km) - Total so far: 138 miles (222 km) I was still wasted and exhausted from heat and dehydration in the a.m. but got going around 9 a.m. I soon found it hard to breath I was so dehydrated. I had to stop every so often and rest. I made it south of Zeeland to a Mooville ice cream shop where they were offering $2 all you can eat sundaes. I took Market Street out of GR as it was a holiday and no traffic, Market ran into the Kent Trails. So beautiful! After that there was a series of street cues to Fred Meijer Kenowa Trail. That trail continued onto Upper Macatawa Natural Area--another natural wonder, very curvy with some ups and downs. After that it was streets using Google maps and my phone talking me through Holland. I stayed south of downtown. Eventually I connected to Beeline Trail. Again, super nice. I was just soo soo tired. Gatorade just wasn't fixing me. Saugatuck and Douglas were quaint and touristy....

Since my cross-country bike extravaganza in 2020 I've been hard at work. There have been some weekenders and day trips, plus a whole lot of moving around and getting settled. I wanted to do a ride just to see if I still have it in me--to be seen. I'd planned to do this trip mid-May, but came down with Covid and so had to cancel, losing hotel reservations and getting some Amtrak train money back, but not all. On top of that my friend who was to go with me couldn't do it any other time. I decided to use the holiday plus 2 days off to string together 4 days for the ride. Starting in Owosso-Grand Rapids-Holland-South Haven-Kalamazoo-Lansing, not quite a loop. Owosso to Grand Rapids Sunday July 3, 2022, 75 miles (121 km) - Total so far: 75 miles (121 km) The day started at 9 a.m. getting a ride to the trailhead via my son-in-law. It was kind of him to take me, but he was a bit out of it attaching the bike rack--at one point we looked back and saw the bike dangling. We pu...

From the Corona Files So this is the week I would have been going to Grand Rapids for the Festival of Faith & Writing. Instead I’m sitting at home. Last week I realized that when I opened up my non-fiction project, made changes, and saved it—that I’d accidentally “wrote” over my file—thus the stuff I’d saved earlier before going on coronavirus hiatus was lost. Is any of this making sense? And, the only two “jobs” I’ve had lately: 1) running deliveries to our front desk upstairs to people in lockdown and 2) volunteering at the homeless shelter, serving dinner once a week—I will likely be giving up as I’ve been deemed high-risk. Does my life feel insignificant? Small? Yes. Even Thomas Merton at his hermitage (within Gethsemani Abbey) in Kentucky was able to work in his garden, break the intense isolation by walking down the hill. They say these next two weeks could be the worst (been hearing this for awhile) and that perhaps by early May things might loosen ...

I was beginning to wonder if it was just me—being lazy, depressed by winter. Perhaps a bit of both. But, no, the records confirm it. This has been the coldest April in Chicago in 137 years. When I left for Grand Rapids a week and a half ago for my writer’s conference, I had the idea of riding my bike back. This is not too unrealistic as I’ve done it about 3 times already. I say about as the first time I didn’t quite make it. Around New Buffalo, MI I retired to my tent for the night. I slept soundly as the woods were super quiet. In the morning when I unzipped my tent I was astounded to discover a world of white. During the night it had snowed about 3 inches. My husband phoned me and asked if I was alive—it had gotten down to 23 degrees. I had no idea as I was snug and cozy in my sleeping bag with a fleece liner. But once I got on the road it was clear that the roads were icy and the wind off the lake felt even colder. So in Michigan City (Indiana) I called and asked him ...

Which is why I’m intrigued by stories of mystery and faith. That crux where one must rest despite ambiguity. Which is why I suspect the Norwegians say there is no such thing as bad weather but bad clothes (gear). Readers of this blog, particularly of my posts pertaining to cycling, know I have issues with claims of waterproof. Waterproof for me has ended up being a misnomer. I am a waterproof skeptic. So for my aborted ride home from Grand Rapids this past weekend I seriously looked at and came to the conclusion that I needed something at least a bit more water resistant that what I’d brought. Let’s face it: most of my performance gear has been collected off the ground from runners waiting at the start for the Chicago Marathon—something I last did five years ago. All that ended with the Boston Marathon bombing. Now you need a Presidential invitation to get within a half mile of the start and finish line. Riding the 2.5 miles from my host’s house to the campus of Calv...

This pretty much sums up my aspirations to cycle home from Grand Rapids starting Sunday – Wednesday in mid-APRIL. Yes, I know spring can be iffy, that April showers bring May flowers, that one day it can be sun and the next cold. But certainly not ARTIC. I experienced a range of weather that would baffle and frustrate even Shakleton. My plan was to drive in a van with my friend to the Festival of Faith & Writing in Grand Rapids and then cycle back to Chicago. I’ve done this trip before. In brilliant sunshine and unseasonable warmth, and in rain and a douse of snow. And also in what might be described as “normal” conditions. What happened this past weekend defies anything close to what I’m used to. I’ve never had to cancel a bike trip, though there were times I should have. I ended up cancelling. 1) Wind, there were tree branches scattered everywhere after a night of high-winds that continued into the day and part of the next. 2) Rain. I commuted 2.5 miles to...

I’m off for a week at a conference in Grand Rapids called the Festival of Faith & Writing. This is my thing. I never knew how much I looked forward to FFW, but now it is a part of my spring ritual. (Actually it’s held every 2 years.) FFW to me are crocuses springing forth, the green blade arising. In the dead of cold, dark winter I begin to read the authors invited to the festival. I make itineraries and mock schedules. I reserve a car, I request a bed with a couchsurfing host. I’m so ready for next week. So ready for warmth, conversation about books, crossing the quad and seeing some of the same faces I’ve come to recognize. This is a time of renewal. Then I plan to cycle back from Grand Rapids. This is where things get tricky. The weather has been very unpredictable. Well, it’s spring you say. Yes, when you wake up to snow almost every morning this week, you begin to question the calendar. So good wishes, thoughts, light, vibes=send them my way as I ride ...

So as I mentioned in my last post in 2013 a friend moved away and I was left trying to figure out if I would continue long-distance cycle touring. Pursuing it alone. A test trip was a ride I planned from Grand Rapids to Chicago the third week in April 2014. It didn’t start very auspiciously. I forgot to pack my front wheel in the box, so that when unpacking at the Grand Rapids bus station I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. A phone call to emergency UPS the forgotten wheel, costing as much as the gas saved if I’d just driven there and back. Then the day I was to leave there was a lot of rain. I really wanted to postpone. I did delay until noon. That night I stealth camped by Lake Michigan and the wind was ferocious. The next day on the Blue Star Highway working my way down the coast it was cold. I remember trying to swing my leg over the top bar and being unable to straddle it. I simply had too many layers on. I was off itinerary and stayed that second night in a woo...

January 2018, and I’m dreaming of my next cycle long-distance tour. I have to—it’s negative 7 below zero outside. It’s necessary to have something to look forward to. But as a way of introduction here is a list of some of my past tours. 5 years old: rode my bike with training wheels across the highway. The pedal fell off and had to walk it home. Got home after dark, but never fessed up about what I’d done. Middle school: a bunch of us took on our bikes—after a carbo-load breakfast where I ate a whole loaf of bread for French toast. After a few miles I got a stomach ache and had to turn back. Not sure where we were going actually. Still in middle school: after helping my sister deliver the Sunday newspaper (starting out in darkness) we decided to ride our bikes to Xenia (Ohio). I got as far as Spring Valley on my banana seat bike before the miles or hunger sent me back home. I remember we made it as far as a ski hill? in Spring Valley—does anyone know anything abou...

Every time I change clothes I notice my tan line—which reminds me of this past summer. Already it is over—after waiting for it to arrive, it is now time to say good bye. Yet— it was the best summer in a long time, for a good long time. It began with a bike ride. Trying to cycle around the south end of the lake, from Grand Rapids back to Chicago. But ended in snow and wind and a phone call from a hot chocolate shop. Come get me. And on the way driving back into Chicago, after being rescued, I got a phone call letting me know that I’d been chosen for an artist residency at a dune shack at the tip of Cape Cod. Mid-May I was on my way to Provincetown. I had no idea of what to expect from a cold, unheated shack without electricity. What I got was sun. Lots of sunny days sitting out on a deck watching the ocean and birds flitting about, reading and writing and tanning. I came home refreshed with millions of words on paper. Some of them stories. This summer I camped out, rode ...

So on my way back from the Festival of Faith and Writing I got a phone call. But, first I have to tell you about coming back from Grand Rapids. If you read part one of this post, I’d alluded to my fragile sense of mortality. This past winter had snowed me, the cold wore me down. What I considered part of my mental and emotional psyche had been buried under what meteorologists were calling a mini-ice age. I felt like a giant ground sloth.   from Field Museum So I cooked up a plan. I was going to ride my bike back from Grand Rapids to Chicago. Of course I came up with this idea back in the warmth of December. I did research and booked tickets on Greyhound because I could bring my boxed bike, re-assemble and be good to go. Sort of. I unpacked the bike at the GR bus station to discover I’d left the front wheel back in Chicago. One snafu behind me. I had my husband UPS the wheel and borrowed a bike to get to the conference the first day. By day 2 and 3 I was using my ...