Day 4: Wooster to Youngstown, Ohio 86 miles. 4029 feet of climb*

[*Editor's Note:  Yeah, a major correction from yesterday's ride.  Yesterday turned out to be over 3700 feet of climbing]

Ohio farmland in the morning.  It's hard to imagine any state we've ridden through without a strong measure of the farming that takes place.  You could almost forget that there are big cities all around us as well.

We finally got a full day of sunshine.  It was a beautiful day from the standpoint of the weather.  You couldn't say the same thing about the road conditions.  Yesterday, we all voted Morrow County Road #19 as the worst road in America.  Today, two more roads jumped to the head of that line:  North Benton West Road and Leffingwell Road.  Below is an example of how bad the roads were.

This was a minor situation.  In many spots along Leffington and North Benton West, the entire road surface looked like this.  A couple of cyclists broke spokes from the pounding.

It turns out the many of the counties in Northeastern Ohio are among the poorest in the state.  They just don't have the monies to do a proper repaving or even just pour a coat of chip and seal on the country roads.  So patches of asphalt are used, year over year, to repair the worst potholes.  Yet, when one is repaired, more seem to pop up.  Today was all about navigating the entire roadway [often using the opposite lane] and avoiding both the large and small potholes as well as all the loose gravel coughed up from cars and truck driving over recent repairs.

We don't just ride for pie.  We also indulge in great ice cream shops along the way.  This one, in New Baltimore, boasts of the best homemade ice cream in the county.  As far as we were concerned, they didn't lie.  But none of us got the best treat there.  That's reserved for dogs.  It's a cup of vanilla ice cream topped with a Milk-Bone dog biscuit.  We watched as two dogs devoured their treats.  Both took the biscuit off the ice cream, laid it down on the ground and proceeded to eat/lick/inhale the ice cream, then go back for the dog biscuit, as a second dessert.

It wasn't all bad today.  But it was challenging.  At dinner tonight, all the very fast riders were so fatigued from the workout we all got.  They were noticeably worn out with heads down as if defeated by today's ride.  While I felt for them, I felt better that I wasn't the only one who was exhausted by the beating we all got on the roadways.  I guess this is the closest I'll ever get to experience what seasoned cycle pros feel when they ride the classic Paris-Roubaix one-day ride.  The cobblestones in Belgium are so much more jarring to both bike and rider than anything we felt today.  It's no joke that riders lose fillings and see dentists after that ride.  We all ached from the constant pounding as our bikes rattled endlessly underneath us all day long.

The dogs weren't the only ones getting fed today.  I passed by this nest while on a crumbly back road.  The consensus was that mom and dad Osprey were feeding their kids.

Later, I passed by this cattle feeding station along the roadside.  Seems like everyone was having lunch.

Day 3: Marysville to Wooster, Ohio 103 torturous miles. 913' elevation (but, oh, were those were steep feet!)

I've leave most of today's notes to the photos and their captions.

I won't presume to know why so many houses in this area have that star on the front or side .  No one in the group seems to know the answer either.  Any takers out there with a theory?

Two days ago, the forecast was for a sunny day.  Yesterday, it was rain.  Today, it changed again to cloudy.  Actually, we got all three.  Mist and rain in the morning, cool and cloudy much of the late morning and late afternoon, sunny just after lunch.

We passed through small country towns and a couple of larger cities.  Delaware was one of the latter.  Saw this abandoned train station as we were passing through.  A relic of a time when this city was thriving.

The lack of rain allowed me to get off the bike and take more pictures today.  Frankly, the picture taking also gave me the occasional respite from the killer hills.

Warrensburg, on the other hand, was one of the smaller towns.  While the incorporated town limits are much larger (probably owing to farmland), you're looking at the entire town, save for a house or two behind me when I took this shot.

And some were even smaller.  There wasn't a "downtown" Peru, just this Town Hall, circa 1901.

The rollers (rolling short, very steep climbs of no more than a quarter mile) on the road to Wooster are notorious among cyclists.  They rival the ones I rode last year in Missouri in both numbers and degrees of incline.  Today's climbs topped out at 14-15% gradients.  For perspective, the mountains I train on in Vermont may be 2-5 miles in length, but they never get beyond 6-9% grades.  Even the climb over Monarch Pass in Colorado (around 7 miles of climb) never got more than 6% on average.

It's not that they were very long.  It's that they were very steep and plentiful.  The large spike around mile 40 is in the town of Butler.  That's their ski resort.  I kid you not; they advertise canoeing and skiing on the same billboards.  How many other towns in America can make that claim?

Today's other highlight was getting chased by a dog.  I honestly didn't think I had anything left in the tank, but I was able to out-sprint the dog, who came up from behind me after it bolted off the front porch of a house along the roadside.

No dogs in this shot (although there was one just off camera who was barking at me when I got close enough to take this picture.  After a moment of interest, these guys just went back to their grazing.

Tomorrow, more rollers, but it's only 85 miles.  The joke at dinner was that tomorrow would be a half-day of riding.  Tell that to my lower back and knees!

As they advertise on the North Fork Century, on Long Island, "we ride for pie."  This cafe in small Frederictown is famous for its pies.  So yes, I stopped in to try a slice.  Peach crumb.  Yum!

Day 2: Richmond, Indiana to Marysville, Ohio 106 miles

I'm knackered! (had dinner with the Brits on the ride).  For those of you not familiar with that expression, I'm exhausted.  It was a long day.  My legs still aren't back to standard form, but I am feeling stronger for longer periods of time.  Just not for 100 miles at a time.

Not a lot of pictures today as the rains were back.  It didn't start that way.  The first 12 miles were cloudy  and cool, but dry.  I kept my rain jacket in my back pocket.  The next five miles, it started spitting -- not really raining, but just that couple of drops now and then.  But soon, it was coming down again and I pulled on the jacket to try and stay dry.

Everyone was lining up to have their pictures taken at the Ohio border.  Say "cheese!"

The rest of the day was on-again, off-again rains and winds.  Fortunately, for my first century since last September's New York Century ride, we had a strong tail wind much of the way to Marysville.

In and out of more one-block-long towns.  This one, St. Paris, didn't have the requisite traffic light.  But it did have a cute little cafe, Braden's, that made great sandwiches and homemade fudge.  A good energy boost for the rest of today's  ride!

Rule No. 2:  every chance you get, take the make-up remover wipes from your hotel and keep them in your bike jersey pocket.  They are great for removing grease when you have to work on your bike chain (twice today, I dropped my chain while shifting).

Much of the day was riding through various farms.  The corn is still a month away from picking.

The rains just screw up the normal routine.  Instead of arriving and checking in, getting into the room and starting the stretching routine before grabbing a hot shower, you have to clean and inspect your bike.  Hosing or wiping it down, cleaning all the gears and cables.  Getting all the water and grit out from small hiding places.  Meanwhile, you start to stiffen up and you're using your cool-down period for other pursuits.  Today was doubly a challenge.  Besides all the grit from the rain, we hit a 3-mile stretch of newly-poured chip and seal.  As the Ohio Department of Transportation workers were still working on the road, the fresh tar underneath the crushed rock was also being kicked up onto our bikes.  That meant two additional steps:  WD-40 to remove all the tar (which takes some serious persuasion to come off), and an alcohol wipe down afterwards to ensure that you don't have any remaining lubricants on your brakes or wheel rims (otherwise trying to stop would result in sliding right through as the brake pads have nothing firm to grip).

Tomorrow is another 100+ mile day, but the forecast actually promises some sun.  It would be nice to ride dry all day.

Day 1: Indianapolis to Richmond, Indiana 76 miles Flat as a Pancake: Straight as an Arrow

Rule No. 1 when cycling in the rain:  grab a copy of USA Today from the lobby of your hotel and pack it in your luggage.  You'll read it later.  More importantly, you'll NEED it later.

The calm before the storm

This was a a tale of two rides.  When I first started composing this blog in my head, we were about 20 miles into this morning's ride.  There had been a misty rain on and off, sometimes turning into a more consistent, but soft rain.  We had left Indianapolis behind us and were out on US 40 for most of the day (Factoid:  US 40 is one of the oldest, if not the oldest Interstate highway in America.  At one time, it traversed America, going from San Francisco to Atlantic City, New Jersey.  It became a Federal highway in 1926, but that road was paved over two earlier versions of the National Road, dating back to 1806 and later the Victory Highway, which commemorated veteran's of the first World War.  The western sections of US 40 have been replaced by Interstate 80.  No, I'm not a total highway geek, I just read the signage.)  The rain only added to the already flooding conditions from the past two days of torrential downpours.  Farmlands were under water.  Homes for sale along the road whose lawns were now submerged could legitimately promote themselves as waterfront properties.

Downtown Greenfield, Indiana.  I love the murals all along this cross-country trip.

As I rode along the interior of eastern Indiana, the sights, sounds and smells of past rides came rushing back to me.  The sights of John Deere tractor dealerships and the farms they serve; the smells of the cattle and pig feed lots (even with the rain, there was no way of avoiding their pungent aromas); and the sounds of the crackling electricity along the power lines.  All those memories of past rides came back in an instant.  I rode along US 40 hopping from one small, single-traffic light town to another.  You couldn't be blamed for thinking you were on the East Coast as we passed through Philadelphia, Charlottesville and Richmond.

I love small town America.  A brief respite from the morning rains.  The afternoon showers were about to commence.

This first section of the ride had all the makings of a nostalgia tour.  And then the heavier rains and winds came.  The rains and headwinds that arrived around 11:30.  How in hell a storm front moving from West to East could account for us having easterly headwinds was beyond any of our intellects.  But there they were, flags along the roadside blowing in our faces as if they were shooing us away, "we don't want you here.  Move along."

The post card is dated from the mid-1800's when Cambridge City was founded.

The rain sucks on so many levels when your cycling.  Yes, the water gets everywhere, even if you have on rain gear (which, by the way, really held up nicely today).  Your shoes and socks are soaked through.  Your bike shorts are soaked through.  And it's cold and raw.  But worse, the visibility is terrible.  You are constantly wiping the front of your glasses or goggles to see what's in front of you.  The road surface is a mess.  The puddles or mini lakes that had formed along the roadside slowed you down when you rode through them.  And the traction is dicey at best.  This was a day for two hands on the handlebars at all times.

But it wasn't all bad, just messy.  So here's your pop quiz for the day:  What is the significance of the town of Knightstown, Indiana?  If you guessed that the town changed its name to honor Bobby Knight, who coached the University of Indiana basketball team to three National Championships, you'd be wrong.  But…you'd be close!  The gym in the local high school was used in the movie "Hoosiers" which, for those of you who aren't into American sports movies, told the David and Goliath tale of a tiny high school in Indiana (actually Milan High School, with a student population of about 150 kids) that defeated a major Muncie, Indiana powerhouse high school (much larger student population) to win the 1954 State Championship.  Great movie.

What was once the former high school gym is now a community center.  The new regional high school is down the road.

One of the yellow placards on the far right wall still carries the Hickory High name (that was the name of the fictional high school in the movie)

Oh yeah, so back to the USA Today (or any local mullet wrapper).  Everyone turned their air conditioner/heater units into giant driers as all our clothes were soaked through.  The best technique for drying shoes is to stuff them with newspaper.  The newsprint wicks the moisture out from the shoes and, in a matter of an hour or so, the shoes are pretty much dry.

So how was the ride overall?  Truthfully, I'm rusty.  Yeah, it rained and that slowed things down.  But I have a lot of work ahead of me to get back into strong riding form, even with all the training I've done.  The next two days, back-to-back century rides, will kick more of the rust off of me.  Unfortunately, the storm system we're in seems to be holding it's course, so we're likely to be wet for days to come.  Oh joy!

The Day Before The Ride

The Indiana State Capitol, in sunny conditions

No, I didn't take this shot today.  But that's only because I don't own an underwater camera.  This is from last year's archives.  It's been raining so heavily and so steadily that at 11:00 this morning, we all received emergency flash flood warnings on our cell phones.  As many of us were already hanging around in the lounge area of the hotel, watching today's segment of the Tour de France, the simultaneous warning alerts on everyone's phones sounded like a badly tuned orchestra.  This line of storms and rain are likely to continue for the next few days.  Just glad it wasn't today that we were starting on the ride.

But the bigger news was the arrival (finally!) of my bike.  I will categorically state here for the record that I will never again use the delivery services of UPS.  Knowing that we had a holiday weekend that would be blackout dates for union work, I shipped my bike earlier last week in order to have it arrive here at the hotel this past Friday.  The hotel was fine with me leaving the bike here while I arrived on Monday.

Checking the UPS tracking website on Friday, I was informed that my bike had been misplaced.  The actual terminology was that it had been "improperly sorted" and, therefore, would not be delivered on time.  "This will cause a delay in delivery and you should expect that it will take at least one additional business day."  Okay, no probs, I'm figuring.  So it gets there Monday.

But what was only a slight inkling of a detection of seriously flawed customer service was soon to become a flood akin to the lake that has formed outside my window where the parking lot used to me.  UPS made not attempt to alert me to the fact that my package would not arrive on time.  It was only when I went to the website that I found out about this delay.

On Monday before heading to the airport, I once again checked the tracking website.  It said that my package was "on route for delivery."  Feeling relieved that they found the mislaid package and that it would arrive sometime on Monday, I boarded my flight feeling good.

But when I checked into the hotel, there was no package waiting for me.  No bike.  And, according to the website, it was still in route.  At 8 PM, with no signs of a UPS truck, I checked the website again.  Now it said that the package had been left on a truck.  I didn't know what the hell that meant!  Aren't their trucks loaded with packages every morning and drivers drive around town all day delivering and unloading those said packages?  Isn't that the basic business model for UPS or any other delivery company?  Load, drive, deliver?  Was I missing something?

I called the customer service line to get an answer to that question.  Apologies abounded.  But no answers.  I saw that the bike box was, according to their tracking site, somewhere in Indianapolis.  Could I possibly speak with someone at that field office?  Maybe, I could come by and pick up my bike if them dropping it off was a problem for them?  "Sure, I will make sure someone calls you back within the hour."  Two and a half hours later, and after checking to ensure my phone wasn't on mute mode, I called back customer service.  "Oh yes, Mr. Beitler, we have it down here that you'll get a phone call sometime tomorrow morning."  But what about the promised call back within an hour?  "Oh, we don't have any record of that."

This morning, there was still no bike.  And still no calls from UPS.  Once again, I called them.  Once again, they lacked any vestiges of proactive customer service.  Yes, they were full of apologies, but no, they made no attempt to actually know where my bike was or when it might be delivered.  And, when I posed the $64,000 question, "but aren't you a totally computerized company?  so wouldn't you know exactly when a package was put in a specific truck?  and, therefore, wouldn't you be able to call the driver of that truck to determine an approximate delivery time?"  "Oh no sir, we don't have that capability."  So much for automation.

I won't go further into details, other than to say that, by then, we had already come up with a Plan B which entailed Michelle [rider leader] driving me to the best bike shop in Indianapolis [I bought a jersey from them last year so I already knew the place and liked the staff] to buy a new bike, assuming that my bike would never show up and was lost in the ether.  As luck, or fate, would have it, twenty minutes before arriving at the bike shop, I got the call from UPS that my bike would be at the hotel shortly.  Twenty minutes later, a call to the hotel confirmed the arrival of my bike.  But the trip to the bike shop wasn't a total loss.  As it was pouring outside, I did buy a new rain jacket since the one I brought was leaking horribly all day today.  It had served me well over the past ten years, but it's time had come.  Now it's in the donation pile at the bike shop and I have a new waterproof jacket.

An hour later, Gene put together my bike.  Ordinarily, I would have gone out for a 10-20 mile shakedown ride to check to see if everything felt right after the re-assembly.  However, given the flood waters all around the hotel and the constant rain, I chose the drier option.  I rode the bike across the street into a stacked parking lot.  Not exactly the mileage I was hoping for, but at least I got to check out the bike in drier conditions.  A few adjustments later and I'm all set to head out in the morning.

Just not sure if we'll be pedaling or paddling in the morning.

Market Square, downtown Indianapolis

Three Days To Go

I'm getting antsy.  I fly out tomorrow, but I'm already pacing around, waiting to get on with my ride.

Much of that anxiousness has to do with the fact that yesterday was the start of this year's Tour de France.  I'll say it now…I'm a fanatic for the event.  To me, it's more than merely watching the pros at work.

The Tour de France is so special in so many ways.  Beyond the shear spectacle of 198 riders spending three weeks traversing the changing countrysides of France and in this year's event, Holland, there is energy, the excitement and the encouragement that I get from watching those guys.  It's the beauty of the French farm lands, the Alps and Pyrenees, the small towns and along the canals in Utrecht and towards Zélande today.  It's the intense energy that infuses those watching these riders as they deal with both the high speeds and the riding in tight packs.  While the ordinary rider can travel along those same courses, there is no way to replicate the feeling of riding so closely among fellow riders.  And at those high speeds (yesterday's Time Trial winner averaged over 30 miles per hour!)

In the past couple of years, I was fortunate enough to be standing along the roadsides in Paris, watching the pros zip past me on their way through the multiple circuits of the final day of the Tour.  The rush of the peloton.  The rush of adrenaline.  It was and still gives me such a boost of emotions and only makes me want to get on my bike that much sooner.

If I want any more inspiration to drive me along the road, I only need to think back to those days along the Paris roadways or days of watching riders attacking monstrous climbs up Mount Ventoux  or Alpe d'Huez to spur me on.

So as I watch today's nearly 100-mile ride across Holland, I will take the efforts of those 198 professionals as the stimuli to help me complete my ride across America.

T-minus 5 days and counting

3 days before taking off for Indianapolis.  Excitement is in the air.

As has been the case for the past three years, getting the blog off the ground has been a chore.  Thanks to my daughter Samantha and the design team of Beitler, Beitler & Beitler (you can never have enough opinions when it comes to design!) we finally have an image that would stick.

I still have packing to do.  Still have some last-minute purchases to make.  But my bike has been packed and sent to the hotel in Indianapolis, so the wait begins for the big day.

I've been in contact with Michelle, the ride leader, as she and the crew are getting closer to Indianapolis and their much deserved rest day.  I'll catch up with them for dinner Monday night.

Off to buy supplies.