Bicycling – Neil Hanson

Yeast, Fire, and Friends

Yeast and Warmth at the Bike Shop

A year ago I posted a little piece on my friend Ted, and our annual MS150 pilgrimage through northern Colorado together. You can read that post here. In it I tell the story of how he was in great shape, I wasn’t, and he made me suffer for it. The punch line is that he’s in his mid-70’s, has leukemia, and yet chased down every young lion who passed us.

A year has passed, and Ted has just gotten stronger. He seems to have found a new lease on life in his 75th year, continuing to battle the little inconveniences and other BS that the cancer drops in his life from time to time.

Allow me toÂ digress slightly, and talk about bread. I make bread around our house. It’s nice sourdough bread, and a batch nets me several loaves, most of which go into the freezer. When they’re gone, I’ll get the yeast jar out of the fridge, and start the daily feeding of it until it’s robust and ready to bake bread. Getting it there takes several days, then back into the fridge the yeast starter goes, waiting for the next round to begin.Â The jar sits 20 feet from me as I type these words, and it will start a batch of bread tonight before being tucked away for a few weeks.

I suspect it’s that notion of the perpetual yeast that got me thinking this morning, as I lay awake in bed, about the notion of fire, and how our primitive ancestors would have nurtured andÂ protected their “starter” for fire, as starting fire up anew would have been a pain, what with all the rubbing sticks together and all that.

And all those thoughts churned around and brought me back to Ted, and the notion of friends. Friendship really. And the idea of a little jar of “starter” that friends represent in our life. We don’t spend every day with them, but when we get together, the yeast of love and friendship blossoms into robust delight at the good feelings that being together brings to us.

Which brings me to the real thing I wanted to say. My buddy Dave and IÂ had a fantastic ride yesterday morning. Lots of climbing, lots of miles, some good discussions, a granola bar and some oreo cookies shared. Then we hauled our bikes down to Creekside Bikes for their annual physicals, where we unexpectedly ran into Ted with his bike shop buddies as they had pizza after their Saturday morning ride.

As I sat there, seeing my best friend Ted surrounded by his bike shop buddies, looking over his shoulder at my other best friend Dave as he huddled with the mechanic to finalize the treatment plan for his steed, it struck me how lucky I am to have the yeast of these friendships in my life. Their friendship feeds my soul and warms my heart.

And I suppose that’s how those thoughts of perpetual fire and yeast jumbled around together in my tiny little brain as I lay awake this morning, reminding me again of just how intertwined we all are with one another. I leaned over and kissed Christine, who mumbled something incoherent but loving as she wrapped an arm around me. I heard her smile as I climbed out of bed, headed downstairs to check on my yeast starter, and do some writing.

Oh, back to the MS150. Once again, Ted punished me up the hills, and kept the pace higher than I liked. He didn’t chase down every young lion who passed us, only the ones that seemed to be going particularly fast.

When I grow up I want to be as fast as Ted…

Day 16, Pilgrim Spokes – Into Maryland

A beautiful autumn morning in western Maryland and a broken chain

Our morning ride out of Grantsville begins with a stunning sunrise over the historic Casselman Bridge as we pedal out of town, followed by mile upon mile of pastoral surroundings as we make our way toward Cumberland, which is the perfect salve to heal our memories of our “day from hell” on the previous day.

After a hearty breakfast of chicken fried steak in the little town of Frostburg, we glide down into Cumberland, then begin a day of up and down climbing as we make our way along friendly and lightly travelled roads into the town of Hancock late in the afternoon, where we pick up a bicycle trail to follow for five or ten miles. It’s a beautiful ride along the trail with dappled shadows dancing beneath our tires, and it ends too quickly as we find our way back over to US 40. Soon afterwards, Dave breaks a chain as he’s climbing a little hill, offering us our first real mechanical breakdown of the trip all the way across the country. Some minor surgery puts his chain back in shape, and we’re off to complete our ride into the town of Hagerstown.

We find an “all you can eat” Chinese place close to our hotel and enjoy a hearty supper over our daily discussion of the excellent day of riding we just experienced.

A cross-country bicycle adventure is the canvas for this tale of discovery along the winding backroads of Americaâ€™s heartland. The second book in the â€œCycling Reflectionsâ€ series,Â Pilgrim SpokesÂ tells the story of the eastern half of the trans-American trek, continuing the saga begun in Neilâ€™s award-winning previous bookâ€”Pilgrim Wheelsâ€”which reconnoiters the western half of the journey.

More than just a journal of a bike ride across the country, Hansonâ€™s delightful and beautifully written story takes the reader on an engaging pilgrimage of observation and reflection. Often hilarious, sometimes poignant, and always inspiring, itâ€™s a must-read adventure that will stir your soul.

Day 15, Pilgrim Spokes â€“ Western Pennsylvania

Our Day From Hell

The one consistent bit of advice I got for the eastern half of the country was to avoid riding on the highways in western Pennsylvania. Especially US-40. But after a particularly good day yesterday, we decided to go ahead and US-40 a try. How bad could it be, anyway?

By the end of the day we’d been assaulted with empty beer bottles from a passing pickup truck, ridden 118 miles, and climbed nearly 12,000 feet. I was bruised, battered, and bone tired as we finished the day well after dark, riding steep and hilly roadsÂ while the temperature plummeted to below 40 degrees F.

One large pizza (covered with every kind of meat available) andÂ a hot shower fixed me right up. But it’s a day I won’t ever forget. Probably the hardest (and worst) day of riding between the Pacific and the Atlantic, sandwiched between two wonderful days.

Day 14, Pilgrim Spokes – Eastern Ohio

Finding Dave Again

It’s a delightful day of riding 131 miles through the rolling hills of eastern Ohio. We’re chased by thunderstorms across the final ten miles or so Â into the wonderful old town of St Clairsville. We enjoy local gossip over lunch at Juanita’s in Zanesville just before crossing the historic “Y-Bridge” there in town. Looking back on the trip across the country, this day is clearly one of my favorites. A beautiful day glidingÂ through beautiful rolling countryside, feeling strong at the end of a long day. The day ends with Dave and I making the worst decision of our trip, fueled by an arrogance born from a sense of strength, lots of protein, and a couple beers. We’ll pay for that decision the next day in the hills of western Pennsylvania.

Day 13, Pilgrim Spokes – Western Ohio

Finding Dave Again

We ride 123 miles across central Ohio, experiencing whatÂ might be the most spectacular sunrise of the entire journey as the fog and mist lift over western Ohio. A wonderful breakfast at Waffle House with a group of Amish caps a perfect morning, then I get us a little lost heading through Dayton, but we end up in the right place to ride for many miles along a wonderful paved bike trail. In London we meet Bicycle Bob (or Bicycle Bill?), who seems to be an unlikely town elder. Our day ends with a large dose of very rude drivers around Columbus, and a sleepless night thanks to a softball team full of party passion on our floor at the hotel.

Day 12, Pilgrim Spokes – Eastern Indiana

Across The Eastern Half Of Indiana

A drizzly day accompanies me along the roads and secondary highways of eastern Indiana. I cross the suburbs south if Indy, then make my way along a cultural seam that makes it clear that I’ve found the Mason-Dixon line.

Lunch in Knightstown, IN is quite an affair at the Knightstown Diner, and Kevin (the proprietor) introduces me to a cafe packed with Red Hat Ladies listening to some ragtime being pounded out at the piano in the corner.

Highlights of the days reflections include thoughts on flags, nationalism, Pastor Ed, Quakers and deer. The day ends with me finding Dave again, in Richmond, IN. From here to the east coast, Dave and I will be riding together again.

Three Top Images From The Day

Day 11, Pilgrim Spokes – Western Indiana

Crossing Covered Bridges, Meeting Ann in Greencastle, Confronting Shuddering Gremlins, and Dinner with Cathy

One of my favorite days of riding in my trek across America are described in several chapters of Pilgrim Spokes. The early part of my day lets me explore several old iterations of the National Road, leading up to an hour or so spent exploring a couple old covered bridges that I go several miles out of my way to see.

Had I not opted to detour off my route for many miles to explore the old bridges, (of which there are many in Indiana), I wouldn’t have ended up in Greencastle where I met Ann, and wouldn’t have discovered shuddering gremlins. It was this conversation that set me up for the important (if painful) discussion theÂ evening dinner had in store for me in Indianapolis with my old friend Cathy.

And of course, it helped me find a slightly more charitable light to shine on the unfortunate series of events at the motel…

Three Top Images From The Day

Covered Bridge in Indiana — The Hauke Bridge - One of many covered bridges in Indiana, and one of the two I explored on this day.

Covered Bridge — The inside of the Oakalla bridge in Indiana.

Day 10, Pilgrim Spokes – Across Central Illinois

Greenville, IL to Terre Haute, IN along the Old National Road by bicycle

I begin my tenth day of riding in Pilgrim Spokes in Greenville, IL. It’s a chilly 39 degrees (F) as I begin my ride, and I’m on the Old National Road (US-40) within the first hour of riding. I’ll generally follow this old historic highway most of the way to the east coast.

I explore my first covered bridge (The Jackson Truss Covered Bridge) of the trip on this day, in Greenup along the Old Cumberland Road.
I enjoy a windy lunch in Effingham.
I get to see the largest wind chimes in the world in Casey.
I get to meet Mary, who’s riding her bike from Annapolis to Colorado.
I get to meet three other wonderful young people riding from Indiana to Colorado. In Pilgrim Spokes, I think I might refer to them as hippies, and I use that term withÂ positive and affectionate intent, in memory of my own (possibly slightly hippyish) youth.
I continue to enjoy miles and miles and miles of Midwest farmland. Oh, and flat… Kansas has nothin’ on this stretch of Illinois for flat!

Three Top Images From The Day

The Old National Road — Wonderful flat Midwestern farmland abounds across Illinois

Greenup Covered Bridge — The old Jackson Truss Covered Bridge in Greenup, Illinois.

Largest Wind Chimes — The world's largest wind chimes in Casey, IL.

Day 9, Pilgrim Spokes – Southwestern Illinois

A Little Drizzle, a Little Misery, Some Perspective

My night in the Butler’s Quarters at the Beall Mansion was delightful, and my next day begins with a drizzly ride down the Great River Trail along the Mississippi as I leaveÂ AltonÂ and begin my journey through Illinois. Eventually I find my way along several miles of theÂ Madison County Transit Nickel Plate TrailÂ throughÂ Edwardsville.

The morning drizzle is light, but continues to get heavier all the way toÂ Alhambra, where I transition from the trail over to the highway for the final miles of the day. It’s a miserable ride though the cold rain, making my room at the B&B inÂ GreenvilleÂ even more inviting.

This chapter in Pilgrim Spokes allowed me to do a little storytelling of a winter night in the mountains of Arkansas from years ago, when Bubba and me got our 18-wheeler stuck high on a mountain and survived freezing rain and a long walk out. I also explore that whole “the darkness defines the light” thing, or maybe something more like “it’s only through misery that we can truly appreciate joy.”

Best summed up, I suppose, in this quote that I include in the book:

The lust for comfort murders the passions of the soul. Â ~Khalil Gibran

Three Top Images From The Day

Leaving the Alton Bridge behind, riding along the Great River Trail

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA — Another beautiful midwestern farmstead along the trail, this one in the drizzle of a rainy day.

Day 8, Pilgrim Spokes – Across The Mighty Mississippi

The Final Section of The Katy Trail, and Back Onto Roads

Breakfast with George (at the Concord Hill Bed and Breakfast) was one of the most fun chapters to write in Pilgrim Spokes, and starts my final day on the Katy Trail out wonderfully. Â I leave the leisurely pace I’ve enjoyed over the past couple days with my good friends behind, kicking into the last 50 miles or so with a strong pace that takes me to Alton after crossing the mighty Mississippi River on a beautiful modern bridge.

The town of Augusta calls me heavily, a bar and grill hanging invitingly out toward the trail, but I resist. However, the Ted Drewes I pass is beyond my ability to fly past, and I stop to enjoy what folks in St Louis are convinced is the best frozen custard on earth.

Further up the road I meet some new folks and enjoy a break in the old river town of St Charles, which many folks mistakenly think isÂ the eastern end of the Katy Trail. In reality, the trail extends another 12 miles or so beyond St Charles, and after a little lunch I continue the deserted section of trail, not seeing another human being until after I exit the trail and get onto the roads along the flood plain.

After crossing a beautiful modern bridge across the mighty Mississippi, I find my way to the Beall Mansion Bed and Breakfast Inn, where Jim welcomes me and shows me up to the Butler’s Quarters. This is another transition point for me, leaving friends behind and kicking my pace up, out alone on the highway again.

Pedal, Breathe, Smile, and Enjoy…