Memoirous

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...

I have thunder thighs. Always have. Albeit there have been times when I’ve been thinner (than I am now). But, still, nothing deserving a double XL. I’m talking here about rain pants. Last weekend I rode my bike back from Kalamazoo, MI. Yes, that weekend. The one with all the rain and flash flooding. I took along with me some L.L. Bean wind pants that I’d coated with water repellant. And also a pair of PVC rain pants acquired new 30 years ago. During a milky downpour I was amazed at the breathability of the PVC pants. I looked down to see that the seams had opened. ALL the seams. Basically I was riding in rubberized flaps. I changed into the Bean pants that after 5 minutes stuck to my skin, soaking wet. Some readers might remember before my JOGLE, riding from the top of the UK to Land’s End, I’d purchased a fairly pricey pair of Showerspass rain pants. These were advertised to be waterproof and breathable—to a point. For instance not when riding a bike, what they were ...