Finding Strength in My Home State

After a day of rest I felt...... Terrible. I woke up feeling recharged and ready to pound out a few miles. My plan was make it to Sagola, about 35 miles away. After my Achilles started rearing its ugly head at mile 2 I was beginning to think Sagola was out of the question. I gingerly pushed on for about 5 miles before I had to stop and make something happen. My uneven, awkward pedal strokes to keep the pressure off of the Achilles on my right foot and the Anterior Tendon (top of my foot/shin) of my left, was,.... I don't know,.....pissing me off actually. 

Then, it all got better and I made it 59 miles to a wonderful, warm, sunny county campground outside of Hardwood. How'd this happen? I lowered my seat a 1/4 inch, Ha! That's it, just dropping my seat a minute fraction of an inch straightened things out. Now, that didn't miraculously cure my tendons, they hurt like hell actually, but not when I'm pedaling. I just might finish the last 185 miles afterall. 

This was my best stop yet. A campground on beautifully serene Michigan waters. A small lake called Stromberg, I believe, wrapped in wildlife, sun and warmth. First order of business was to lay next to the lake and do absolutely nothing except soak in the calm. I then set up camp and made a meal. The sunset was going to be incredible and I didn't want to miss it by fumbling around with gear or food. I really hate eating in the outdoors, it has a way of distracting you from why you're there. 

The temperature and air were refreshing and I stayed out until well after twilight before climbing in the sack. Just as I was starting to go through the days images, I hear a larger than squirrel size animal approaching . There are quite a few dry leaves from autumn still blowing around, and you hear every little footstep, but these were definitely more interesting. I hurried out of my tent with a light and immediately found two beady eyes staring at me in bewilderment. It then slowly turned around and flared out its quills, basically flying the middle finger in porcupine gesture. And it climbed up the nearest tree calmly. Which happened to be only a couple of feet from my shelter, and it happened to swoop every so slightly over me. If this fella' fell, it would be like hellraiser from Mars shot directly into my humble abode. Hmm, well I wasn't going to climb up and retrieve the fella', and he seemed perfectly content perched about. I went to bed with the long comforting sounds of the Loon. 

Wildlife count for the trip thus far:

3 porcupines

2 bald eagles

2 Loons

1 fox

2 elk, a bull and a cow, huge!

100 or more whitetail 

1 musky

A few mergansers

and 1 (sort of) black bear 

Also fairly certain I heard the pack of wolves that live near Clam Lake. This list would probably be longer, but I tend to zone out a few hours of each day.

Where I'm At....

Here's a quick map of my route. The arrow is where I'm currently at. Just a touch over halfway. This route is about 600 miles total. Cheers....

Small World, More Goodness, and More Pain, shit

It's been quite a ride thus far! I rode into Michigan yesterday, Iron River.

I want to give a huge shout out to my better half Gina for being the best companion I couldn't have dreamt up. I don't deserve this much support and freedom but her kind, strong compassion is always there for me and my hair-brained ideas. While I'm out here spinning my legs in circles, she is at home taking care of the farm, keeping our pup happy, working, and slaying rats in the chicken coup. Thanks babe, I owe you big-time.

Yesterday was the full experience. I woke to a temperature around 20f and sun! Big bonus, no wind. Brisk, but surprisingly comfortable. Ate a meal in town, found great conversation, and headed towards Michigan at 10:30.

The knees felt great for about 2 miles, ugh. I ended up stopping for a long stretch session which worked miracles. Felt strong for awhile, maybe 30 miles or so. And then the small aches in my foot tendons I have been feeling for a few days now started to become more noticeable. The front of my left shin down the top of my foot and my achilles tendon in my right foot are the culprits. Shit, I can't seem to escape tendon issues this year. Yet again, I stopped, made some fit adjustments with my seat and stretched everything out. I still had 35 miles to go before hitting Iron River, MI and my confidence was waning.

I found a stride that seemed to work. Of course the pain wasn't gone, but doable. I fell into a sort of riding meditation. Climbed up a bit, then rolled over and coasted a bit, climbed up a bit more, and repeat..... This part of Wisconsin into Michigan is never completely flat but not full of big climbs either. Just rolls.

After many miles of this, a brightly colored man with a killer carbon road bike spec'd with the latest goodies was on the other side of the road holding what I thought was a phone. Even though this was the first fellow cyclist I've ran into since the 2 guys in Glidden, I was knackered and not all that interested in conversation. I was relieved to see he was on the phone. I politely waved and kept my mantra going.....fuck left tendon, fuck right tendon, fuck left knee, fuck right knee, Merganser!, fuck....Eagle!, etc...... A few moments later the brightly dressed cyclist came coasting up next to me saying, "Did you see that bear next to you?" "Wow, really? No, I was zoned out." "Yeah, it was on your side of the road eating some grass until that car spooked it off." " Shit, wish I would have seen it." We went on like this for about 5-6 miles, talking about this and that, gear ratios, riding, canoeing, camping, stuff that I was having a hard time focusing on to be honest. I was just trying to get my 13 year old mind and 70 year old body to a place of rest. But I had this feeling of meeting him before. I stopped to take a picture of the 'Leaving Chequamegon National Forest' sign. 62 year old Biker Bill stopped with me and he brought up the topic of Isle Royale National Park. I mentioned that my wife and I went there for our honeymoon last year and took the last boat off the island with Captain Don on October 2nd. He called me out, and said that the last boat leaves the island the last week in September. We debated for a second until he sealed the deal with "I know for a fact because I was on the last boat that year." "Wow! Really, maybe it was in September then, I'm fried right now" I replied and then said "Wait!, we must have been on that boat together!" Biker Bill enthusiastically said "I was the guy all dressed in camo." HA! I knew exactly who he was at that moment. Gina and I watched him chat it up with these two other fella's we ended up drinking too much beer with later that evening on the mainland. That's a whole other story which will be in our memory bank for years to come, a story of how small the world is and how great the people in it are. This one adds to that pile. We talked a bit more about that trip and how great the weather was, the gale force winds and such. And then we rode across the Michigan boarder together before we bumped fists, said our goodbyes, Biker Bill turned left and I stayed straight towards a place of rest. But now with a bit of newly found energy.

The energy didn't last long once I remembered how bad this ankle tendon was feeling. Ugh..... I got to Iron River and checked the RV park out and the loud generators didn't appeal to me at that moment. I grabbed the map to see how much farther the state forest or a campground would be. Too far, 15 miles. I opted for the hotel up the road with a sauna and hot tub, hehe, easier to cave at the face of modern comforts when solo. Once inside I noticed how warm the top of my foot was and that it was slightly swollen around the tendon. Damn! Sad to admit, but I've had lots of experience with agitated tendons and they don't get better overnight. The sad and sorry for myself Kyle shines through at this moment. A little pissed-off mixed in there too. I stretched, popped more pills, bitched a little, and went to bed.

Yep, this morning it still hurt a bit. I opted to stay in Iron River another day and rest. After all, I'm ahead of schedule by a day. I'm still pissed though and really uneasy about what the next few days are going to bring. My ambition has always been stronger than my body, particularly my tendons. Hmmm, what to do.

Today I rest, ice, heat, bitch, eat chocolate, make some adjustments to the bike.... Again, and then eat some more. Tomorrow I ride 30 miles to Sagola, rest, and then push for Escanaba. I'll make the call there if I can continue the last 150 miles or if I'll have to call up mommy and daddy to pick up my sorry ass and stretcher a bruised ego away.

I've always had this nonchalant attitude about cycling that has worked. With pride, I'd say, "You don't need to wear special shit, or get a bike fitting done, or train!" Well, that must have been my twenties talking because when I get back to Portland I'm going to buy the most expensive bike fitting in town. And I'm.....no I probably still won't train, but I'm definitely going to ride more before a big trip. Not so sure I like 30 yet. The joys of being a child at heart and in mind with a body full of over tightened guitar strings. Not giving up hope yet though damn't! I have been told there is a brew pub in Escanaba.....

Finding My Stride

I want to start out apologizing for all of my typos. I'm writing these blogs on a small tablet and skipping the proof reading process in the pursuit of dedicating more time to the experience in front of me.

Day 5 was incredible. Still windy as shit and cold, but sunshine all the way to Boulder Junction. About 65 miles or so. The knees worked well the whole way,...... Disclaimer (with the help of a dozen ibuprofen). And the rib is feeling better too. I read about some yoga rolling around method to pop a rib in, it seems to be working.

If all rolls well, I should hit Michigan today. Goodbye Wisconsin. A great state to ride in all around. The weather has been rough at times, but the warm folks I've met definitely makes up for it. The route I've been on has been quiet, peaceful and incredibly beautiful. I would have liked to spend more time in the Chequamegon Nat. Forest; another trip I suppose.

Spent a great night camping behind the town baseball field. Around 20f, nice sleeping temp. Hard to get up and take a whiz though, brrrrr.....

Found good conversation this morning with a pair of brothers from Chicago at The Outdoorsman Restaurant; good food too. Sun is shining again and the wind seems to be nil at the moment, best hit the road.

Chequamegon and More Humbling Weather All Around

Cold ass morning! The wind was a Nor'easter and howling across the frozen lake, damn cold. I hurried into riding clothes and skipped breakfast and coffee in hopes of eggs and bacon somewhere down the road. Cold, but the riding was actually good. A headwind, but no precip, yet anyway. I got to Moose Lake in about 12 miles where the map showed 2 restaurants. One was a bar and closed, the other looked promising, it was closed too. Guess I have to snack on potato bread and head another 18 or so miles towards Clam Lake.

I've now entered the National Forest, finally! Clam Lake had 2 shops open. A bar/restaurant and a gas station. I went into the bar and found a gaggle of locals chatting up the morning. They all wanted to know what the hell I was doing. But didn't ask why, they seemed to get it. Really friendly folks, the friendliest I've met yet. Connie and Bruce ran things and I couldn't have asked for a better cup of coffee or hash brown scramble. My knees were both pretty sore and the warm coffee seemed to make them feel better so I hung around, ate, drank, and chatted it up for a couple of hours. For the first time, I didn't want to leave. Probably because my knees still ached, but more likely because chatting with these folks was incredibly enjoyable and much needed.

Eventually, I moved on towards Glidden. About another 18 miles. I was feeling hammered and my solo mind was playing tricks on me. Telling me to stop because my knees were really starting to hurt. Oh, I think I have a dislocated rib as well from a friendly wrestling match at my brother's bachelor party last weekend. I've been cursing your name for days Steve!

Glidden is not big. An old Mill town I suppose that has witnessed better days. A motel sat up on the hill. A classic small town motel that is. The same time I saw that sign, the winds picked up and it began the on-off process of sideways snow that would last into the night.

I ventured up the hill towards the front door to check rates. The door was open, and the lounge area was filled with 70's decor. Pink chairs and a bible left by a Gideon. Where was this Gideon? I needed a room. Nobody around and a sign that read, dial Ext. 11 for help. 3 and a half hours later the woman that cleans the rooms showed up to find me laying on my back with my feet up against the wall, Gina my lovely wife recommended this trick to get the swelling in my legs down. My gear was sprawled throughout the lounge area, I was planning to sleep there. She asked if I wanted a room. Abso-freakin-lutely! Killer room! Very clean and comfortable. Although anything would be more comfortable than that un-heated lobby with a Gideon I couldn't seem to find.

Showered up, sprawled my gear everywhere to dry out and ventured to find, supposedly the best Beef sandwich around. On my walk into town 2 high spirited but definitely tired cyclist come coasting by. Felix and Jeff. They started in Delaware and I think they said this was day 26. They're going to the West coast and planning their route as they ride. Total bad-asses! Follow them on their site:
http://lostonbikes.com/ . Oh, the sandwich was microwaved into perfection, but the beer was good.

Today is day 5 for me and the air is cold but the sun is out again! It's also 10 o'clock! I best get pedaling. Hope I make it to Boulder Junction tonight. Come on knees.....

Sun! and then just a bit of weird...

Sun! Felt amazing to ride in shorts and sunglasses. Incredible how light can lift your spirits and push you further. I rode about 75 miles according to the map. I don't have a bike computer or GPS, one left on all the time anyway. The Adventure Cycling Association maps work really well for the most part. I ran across a few detours and such, but with a bike, a detour is nothing more than riding around the sign and continuing on. It's awesome to chat with a local about my route and they don't even know some of the county roads I'm riding. Definitely is not the most direct way to cross Wisconsin, but surely the most enjoyable.

I've only been chased down by two dogs nipping at my ankles. Luckily, I have huge panniers that cramp their methods. Thus far all of the drivers in Wisconsin have given me space and most of them have even slowed down as they pass. Probably to wonder why the heck I'm heading North to Chequamegon when a cold front is pushing. I'm wondering the same.

About an hour before sunset, things became more interesting. The process for hunting a place to sleep down became real. I underestimated the amount of campable land I was going to find along the route. It turns out that almost everything has been purchased privately with these daunting NO TRESPASSING signs everywhere. Trespassing with a partner in crime seems doable if needed to get some much needed rest. However, trespassing by myself seems absolutely terrifying in this neck of the woods where there are more rear window gun racks than whitetail to shoot. The Chequamegon National Forest is actually quite narrow and I haven't even hit it yet. The lakes are surrounded with huge vacation homes that take up any public lands. I did stop at a few of these places hoping to score a front lawn spot, but to no avail. The light was slipping fast now, and I needed to get off the roads. Busse Road came up and I turned right hoping to find any corner to hide in. Was I doing something wrong? I felt like I was for some stupid reason. It made me uncomfortable either way. A veteran touring cyclist would laugh at my naive situation, but remember, I'm new at this stuff. Anyway, a mile or so down the road more huge cabins that are probably slept in 10 days a year, sit there intimidating me. I quietly coast past to a boat launch with a little trail that went into thickish Northwoods away from the developed side. I quickly and quietly pushed my bike down the deer trail over a small bump, just big enough to conceal me, and found a terrible place to pitch a shelter. But I did anyway. Really beautiful location actually. Round lake was in front of me mostly covered in a layer of ice still, and a cedar bog was to my right where Beaver were slapping around all night.

Amazing how you can sleep anywhere after 8 or so hours on the bike. I slept like a baby for most of the night anyway. Minus the few times mice startled me awake scampering through my tarp shelter. And the time, at about 3 in the morning when some truck filled with yelping dogs came to a screeching halt at the launch. Damn, I was so comfortable and the temps hovered in the 20's, I really didn't want a bunch of dogs sniffing me out and some drunk guy asking questions. That didn't happen.