The Touring Series: In A Blazer Of Glory

  Welcome to "The Touring Series". This series is a re-posting of a story I told here on this blog in 2008. The story is about what I named the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour". This was a fully loaded, self-supported bicycle tour from just Northeast of Waterloo, Iowa starting in a little village named Dewar and the goal was to get to Sault Ste. Marie, Canada in one week's time. The plan called for us to be picked up there and taken home by car.

  As mentioned, cameras, smart phones, and the like did not exist for us in 1994, so images will be few. There are some though, and I will sprinkle those in when they are relevant. I will also sprinkle in any modern images of places we visited when applicable and when I can find images that convey the same look as 1995. 

This brings the first part of the series to an end. The story of the Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour comes to an end with this post. There was another tour the next year which I will continue the series with. In between there will be a few interim posts bringing you all up to speed with things which were important the year following the Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour. Thanks for reading!
________________________________________________________________________ 

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

 The tour was over, but we had one day to get back home. We were in a state park near Manistique, Michigan waiting on a ride home.  Here is what happened on Sunday, the eighth day after we had left Dewar, Iowa. 

I was awoken out of a deep sleep by the sound of the tent zipper going up. It was my wife's head that I saw poking into the door. Wow! It was still dark out and they were here already! Steve's girlfriend and my wife drove up all through the night to get us. Now it was time to start packing up the goods and cramming five people into a late 80's era Blazer. 

We were all ready to go as the gray light of dawn had just started peeking over the horizon. I thought the bikes looked naked and forlorn up on the roof rack stripped of their panniers. That was my last memory of Michigan. I climbed into the Blazer and was in a half asleep stupor for several hours afterward.

I kind of perked up as we went through the Green Bay area. I started joining in the chit-chat now and the miles went by on into the afternoon. Soon we were approaching Iowa again. I was really anxious to get back to Waterloo and get out of the sardine can like conditions I had suffered since leaving Michigan. As we got closer to Dubuque, we noticed that the Blazer smelled hot and it wasn't running so well. Steve thought we should stop and check the oil. So, after a quart of oil and some concerned looks, we were off. Steve's girlfriend, Brenda announced that we would be taking it slower, and the Blazer didn't have the power to climb the steep hills of Southwestern Wisconsin anymore at top speed. I was worried and a bit disappointed. This meant I'd get home even later than I had wished.

Steve's future wife, Brenda, and the blown up Blazer outside of Dubuque

Well, for those of you familiar with Highway 20 coming out of Dubuque to the west, (circa 1994) you know that there is a long, long climb to the top of a hill where there is a gas station perched at the crest. It was here that the ol' Blazer gave up the ghost. Blew the motor! It was a crazy, funny, sad, and depressing thing all together in one moment. Steve pronounced the rig dead by going in and buying a six pack and sitting it on top of the smoldering motor's air cleaner. 

Now we had no ride home and 90 miles to go. Brenda got a hold of her parents, who were gracious enough to come out and fetch Troy, my wife, and I and take us home. It seemed like an interminably long time for them to get there, but they finally did. Steve and Brenda stayed behind with the Blazer. I had no idea what they were going to do, and at that point, I was so tired and mentally fried, I didn't care. The westering sun was on my face, I was in a big Buick, and we were going home. That was all I cared about right then and there.

That was it. The end of the adventure. Brenda and Steve came back with the Blazer on Monday and brought my stuff along with it. I eventually got home and went back to my routine at the bike shop. Troy did as well. The old Mongoose mountain bike did well, but the saddle on it, an old Avocet touring model, had given me no end of grief on the last days of the ride. Troy said I should ceremonially burn it. I thought that was a cool idea, but I didn't do it. 

_________________________________________________________________

This was a weird day. Admittedly, and not revealed in the above text, I was pretty hung over. We drank a truckload of beer the night before and I think we were awakened at around 4:30am. So, I didn't get much sleep. Then we were all crammed into this S-10 Blazer, so five adults, gear, and bits from our bikes we couldn't let sit in the wind. It was a very uncomfortable experience. 

Knowing what I know now about S-10's, I believe the oil cooler hose was leaking badly, (a common S-10 issue) and the oil probably got too low before we discovered why the motor was loosing power. But anyway..... We were stranded and while the scene was a bit humorous and all, I was desperate to get home and sleep in my own bed. I don't really have a memory of anything past getting into the Buick and being in the back seat. After we got home, everything just became routine again. Nothing memorable about that!   

Next Week: Some final thoughts on The Beg Borrow, and Bastard Tour and a look ahead at what is in store for the Touring Series.

The Touring Series: In A Blazer Of Glory

  Welcome to "The Touring Series". This series is a re-posting of a story I told here on this blog in 2008. The story is about what I named the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour". This was a fully loaded, self-supported bicycle tour from just Northeast of Waterloo, Iowa starting in a little village named Dewar and the goal was to get to Sault Ste. Marie, Canada in one week's time. The plan called for us to be picked up there and taken home by car.

  As mentioned, cameras, smart phones, and the like did not exist for us in 1994, so images will be few. There are some though, and I will sprinkle those in when they are relevant. I will also sprinkle in any modern images of places we visited when applicable and when I can find images that convey the same look as 1995. 

This brings the first part of the series to an end. The story of the Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour comes to an end with this post. There was another tour the next year which I will continue the series with. In between there will be a few interim posts bringing you all up to speed with things which were important the year following the Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour. Thanks for reading!
________________________________________________________________________ 

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

 The tour was over, but we had one day to get back home. We were in a state park near Manistique, Michigan waiting on a ride home.  Here is what happened on Sunday, the eighth day after we had left Dewar, Iowa. 

I was awoken out of a deep sleep by the sound of the tent zipper going up. It was my wife's head that I saw poking into the door. Wow! It was still dark out and they were here already! Steve's girlfriend and my wife drove up all through the night to get us. Now it was time to start packing up the goods and cramming five people into a late 80's era Blazer. 

We were all ready to go as the gray light of dawn had just started peeking over the horizon. I thought the bikes looked naked and forlorn up on the roof rack stripped of their panniers. That was my last memory of Michigan. I climbed into the Blazer and was in a half asleep stupor for several hours afterward.

I kind of perked up as we went through the Green Bay area. I started joining in the chit-chat now and the miles went by on into the afternoon. Soon we were approaching Iowa again. I was really anxious to get back to Waterloo and get out of the sardine can like conditions I had suffered since leaving Michigan. As we got closer to Dubuque, we noticed that the Blazer smelled hot and it wasn't running so well. Steve thought we should stop and check the oil. So, after a quart of oil and some concerned looks, we were off. Steve's girlfriend, Brenda announced that we would be taking it slower, and the Blazer didn't have the power to climb the steep hills of Southwestern Wisconsin anymore at top speed. I was worried and a bit disappointed. This meant I'd get home even later than I had wished.

Steve's future wife, Brenda, and the blown up Blazer outside of Dubuque

Well, for those of you familiar with Highway 20 coming out of Dubuque to the west, (circa 1994) you know that there is a long, long climb to the top of a hill where there is a gas station perched at the crest. It was here that the ol' Blazer gave up the ghost. Blew the motor! It was a crazy, funny, sad, and depressing thing all together in one moment. Steve pronounced the rig dead by going in and buying a six pack and sitting it on top of the smoldering motor's air cleaner. 

Now we had no ride home and 90 miles to go. Brenda got a hold of her parents, who were gracious enough to come out and fetch Troy, my wife, and I and take us home. It seemed like an interminably long time for them to get there, but they finally did. Steve and Brenda stayed behind with the Blazer. I had no idea what they were going to do, and at that point, I was so tired and mentally fried, I didn't care. The westering sun was on my face, I was in a big Buick, and we were going home. That was all I cared about right then and there.

That was it. The end of the adventure. Brenda and Steve came back with the Blazer on Monday and brought my stuff along with it. I eventually got home and went back to my routine at the bike shop. Troy did as well. The old Mongoose mountain bike did well, but the saddle on it, an old Avocet touring model, had given me no end of grief on the last days of the ride. Troy said I should ceremonially burn it. I thought that was a cool idea, but I didn't do it. 

_________________________________________________________________

This was a weird day. Admittedly, and not revealed in the above text, I was pretty hung over. We drank a truckload of beer the night before and I think we were awakened at around 4:30am. So, I didn't get much sleep. Then we were all crammed into this S-10 Blazer, so five adults, gear, and bits from our bikes we couldn't let sit in the wind. It was a very uncomfortable experience. 

Knowing what I know now about S-10's, I believe the oil cooler hose was leaking badly, (a common S-10 issue) and the oil probably got too low before we discovered why the motor was loosing power. But anyway..... We were stranded and while the scene was a bit humorous and all, I was desperate to get home and sleep in my own bed. I don't really have a memory of anything past getting into the Buick and being in the back seat. After we got home, everything just became routine again. Nothing memorable about that!   

Next Week: Some final thoughts on The Beg Borrow, and Bastard Tour and a look ahead at what is in store for the Touring Series.

The Touring Series: Rained, Over, And Out

 

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

 Welcome to "The Touring Series". This series is a re-posting of a story I told here on this blog in 2008. The story is about what I named the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour". This was a fully loaded, self-supported bicycle tour from just Northeast of Waterloo, Iowa starting in a little village named Dewar and the goal was to get to Sault Ste. Marie, Canada in one week's time. The plan called for us to be picked up there and taken home by car.

  As mentioned, cameras, smart phones, and the like did not exist for us in 1994, so images will be few. There are some though, and I will sprinkle those in when they are relevant. I will also sprinkle in any modern images of places we visited when applicable and when I can find images that convey the same look as 1995.

We join the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour" on its seventh day out from the start as they are held up by rain in Manistique, Michigan.........
_____________________________________________________________________

It wasn't too long before noon, and the rain was steadily falling. Each passing minute was a moment slipping away that was painfully palpable. The whole point of the tour had been to reach Canada, but now, so tantalizingly close and yet so far away, we all were increasingly aware that it was over. We were going to have to throw in the towel, and it wasn't anyone's fault. Not Steve's for Steven's Point, not for having stopped so many times, not for lack of effort. It was what it was.

We sat there and waited, and even when it did clear up, we all knew it was pointless to go on. Steve called his girlfriend, Troy made a phone call. We sat around waiting to find out where and when we would be picked up. I got something to eat and munched it quietly outside. Steve suddenly perked up and pointed out a bumper sticker on a pick up truck. "Shoot 'em all! Let God sort 'em out" it proclaimed. It was a bit of comic relief that somehow fit the moment and lightened the mood.

Troy came out and between he and Steve they figured out that there was a State Park just a bit back west out of Manistique up a black top road. We finally talked it over and decided to cash it in and spend the night there. As we rolled up the road, down a darkened tunnel through tall pine trees, I could sense the release of tension. Troy and Steve were joking and carrying on. It was a relief not to have a deadline anymore. We passed a rustic country store about a half mile from the park entrance that was selling beer. We made a mental note of that for later!

As we pulled in to Indian Lake State Park, we were dismayed to see that it was packed. We rolled up behind a couple of cars waiting to check in at the Ranger's Station and we thought about a possible Plan B in case we were turned away. As we reached the drive up window, (Ride up window?) we were met with wide eyes by a female park official. She stated the obvious by saying the Park was full, but then she said, "...but we will have to find you a place. Let's see what I can do." I said, "What?...." She replied, "Oh yeah, it's Michigan State law that if a hiker or cyclist asks for a camping spot in any State Park, we have to find them room." So, she looked and found that a spot had been unclaimed that was reserved. It was now ours. It happened to be directly across from the shower house!

We secured our spot. It was windy, with hurrying clouds from the north right off the lake. We set up our tents and bugged out back to that country store. Troy put two and a half cases of canned beer on the rack of his Voyager. I'm sure that exceeded his racks capacity! It was funny how Troy could wiggle the front half of his bike but the back half wouldn't move due to all the weight of the beer.

Once back at the campgrounds we drank lots of beer, laughed, played Frisbee, and kicked back for a bit. It was a lot of fun, and honestly, we should have done more of that maybe. Whatever......... The wind was wicked off the lake, and Steve's tent got zapped, so he moved his stuff in with me for the last night. We sat around and talked into the darkness, but all good things come to an end, and somewhere in an alcoholic haze I zipped my self into my sack and passed out breathing in the cold night air laced with the scent of pine trees.

That was it for the tour. But we still had to get home. The ride back would be an all day slog in Steve's girlfriends Blazer. Shouldn't be a big deal, and I was anxious to finally get back home.

____________________________________________________________________________

Yeah........kind of anti-climatic, eh? Well, we came up 120 miles short of our goal, so that is why we weren't ashamed. Yeah, we could have made it sans a rainy day mid-week, and we knew that. (I will delve into more about the way we strategized and what was good and bad about that in a separate post.)

For the time being I wanted to focus on the dichotomy between the arrival in Manistique and leaving for Indian Lake State Park. The morning was all "speed touring", as it had been most of the week. The last hours were more like what people normally think of when touring. Fun, free, and careless. Oh, we had our moments, for sure, during the week, but the aftermath of not getting our goal was so liberating it was uncanny. 

In fact, I didn't want it to end, but I was also ready for a trip back home to "normal" life. It was odd. Part of me was never the same after that week. I kind of knew this as the evening wore on at Indian Lake. I remember watching the white caps crashing into the shore and thinking about how I'd had such an adventure and that, sadly, it was over. The sight of those wind driven waves still can be seen in my mind's eye.......

Next week: In A Blazer Of Glory

The Touring Series: Rained, Over, And Out

 

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

 Welcome to "The Touring Series". This series is a re-posting of a story I told here on this blog in 2008. The story is about what I named the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour". This was a fully loaded, self-supported bicycle tour from just Northeast of Waterloo, Iowa starting in a little village named Dewar and the goal was to get to Sault Ste. Marie, Canada in one week's time. The plan called for us to be picked up there and taken home by car.

  As mentioned, cameras, smart phones, and the like did not exist for us in 1994, so images will be few. There are some though, and I will sprinkle those in when they are relevant. I will also sprinkle in any modern images of places we visited when applicable and when I can find images that convey the same look as 1995.

We join the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour" on its seventh day out from the start as they are held up by rain in Manistique, Michigan.........
_____________________________________________________________________

It wasn't too long before noon, and the rain was steadily falling. Each passing minute was a moment slipping away that was painfully palpable. The whole point of the tour had been to reach Canada, but now, so tantalizingly close and yet so far away, we all were increasingly aware that it was over. We were going to have to throw in the towel, and it wasn't anyone's fault. Not Steve's for Steven's Point, not for having stopped so many times, not for lack of effort. It was what it was.

We sat there and waited, and even when it did clear up, we all knew it was pointless to go on. Steve called his girlfriend, Troy made a phone call. We sat around waiting to find out where and when we would be picked up. I got something to eat and munched it quietly outside. Steve suddenly perked up and pointed out a bumper sticker on a pick up truck. "Shoot 'em all! Let God sort 'em out" it proclaimed. It was a bit of comic relief that somehow fit the moment and lightened the mood.

Troy came out and between he and Steve they figured out that there was a State Park just a bit back west out of Manistique up a black top road. We finally talked it over and decided to cash it in and spend the night there. As we rolled up the road, down a darkened tunnel through tall pine trees, I could sense the release of tension. Troy and Steve were joking and carrying on. It was a relief not to have a deadline anymore. We passed a rustic country store about a half mile from the park entrance that was selling beer. We made a mental note of that for later!

As we pulled in to Indian Lake State Park, we were dismayed to see that it was packed. We rolled up behind a couple of cars waiting to check in at the Ranger's Station and we thought about a possible Plan B in case we were turned away. As we reached the drive up window, (Ride up window?) we were met with wide eyes by a female park official. She stated the obvious by saying the Park was full, but then she said, "...but we will have to find you a place. Let's see what I can do." I said, "What?...." She replied, "Oh yeah, it's Michigan State law that if a hiker or cyclist asks for a camping spot in any State Park, we have to find them room." So, she looked and found that a spot had been unclaimed that was reserved. It was now ours. It happened to be directly across from the shower house!

We secured our spot. It was windy, with hurrying clouds from the north right off the lake. We set up our tents and bugged out back to that country store. Troy put two and a half cases of canned beer on the rack of his Voyager. I'm sure that exceeded his racks capacity! It was funny how Troy could wiggle the front half of his bike but the back half wouldn't move due to all the weight of the beer.

Once back at the campgrounds we drank lots of beer, laughed, played Frisbee, and kicked back for a bit. It was a lot of fun, and honestly, we should have done more of that maybe. Whatever......... The wind was wicked off the lake, and Steve's tent got zapped, so he moved his stuff in with me for the last night. We sat around and talked into the darkness, but all good things come to an end, and somewhere in an alcoholic haze I zipped my self into my sack and passed out breathing in the cold night air laced with the scent of pine trees.

That was it for the tour. But we still had to get home. The ride back would be an all day slog in Steve's girlfriends Blazer. Shouldn't be a big deal, and I was anxious to finally get back home.

____________________________________________________________________________

Yeah........kind of anti-climatic, eh? Well, we came up 120 miles short of our goal, so that is why we weren't ashamed. Yeah, we could have made it sans a rainy day mid-week, and we knew that. (I will delve into more about the way we strategized and what was good and bad about that in a separate post.)

For the time being I wanted to focus on the dichotomy between the arrival in Manistique and leaving for Indian Lake State Park. The morning was all "speed touring", as it had been most of the week. The last hours were more like what people normally think of when touring. Fun, free, and careless. Oh, we had our moments, for sure, during the week, but the aftermath of not getting our goal was so liberating it was uncanny. 

In fact, I didn't want it to end, but I was also ready for a trip back home to "normal" life. It was odd. Part of me was never the same after that week. I kind of knew this as the evening wore on at Indian Lake. I remember watching the white caps crashing into the shore and thinking about how I'd had such an adventure and that, sadly, it was over. The sight of those wind driven waves still can be seen in my mind's eye.......

Next week: In A Blazer Of Glory

The Touring Series: Mutiny!

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

 Welcome to "The Touring Series". This series is a re-posting of a story I told here on this blog in 2008. The story is about what I named the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour". This was a fully loaded, self-supported bicycle tour from just Northeast of Waterloo, Iowa starting in a little village named Dewar and the goal was to get to Sault Ste. Marie, Canada in one week's time. The plan called for us to be picked up there and taken home by car.

  As mentioned, cameras, smart phones, and the like did not exist for us in 1994, so images will be few. There are some though, and I will sprinkle those in when they are relevant. I will also sprinkle in any modern images of places we visited when applicable and when I can find images that convey the same look as 1995. 

__________________________________________________________________________________

We join the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour" on its seventh day out from the start in Escanaba, Michigan.........

We awoke the next morning chilly and refreshed. Much discussion was had just before going to sleep the night before and now again in the morning about just how we were going to get to Canada from here and still get home in time for work on Monday morning. Various theories were put forth, but the two main thoughts were (A) we weren't going to make it, so let's just see where we end up, and (B) we were going as far as we could today, which would leave a short jaunt into Sault Ste. Marie where we would have Steve's girlfriend pick us up. I wasn't quite sure just what would happen, but "B" sounded feasible, and I had never been to Canada, so I was game for it. Steve was of the mind that we should just throttle back and cruise to wherever that day, and then have his gal pick us up in the morning. In the end, Troy's will would carry the day, as far as the decision on what to do for our ride.

Well, that meant one thing: Go like the wind with minimal stops. So the morning out of Escanaba was all a hurry, going out to hook up with a big four lane highway heading northwards around an inlet on the north shore. Then it was straight east for a piece. The weather was sunny, with a bit of a head wind and hurrying cumulus clouds overhead. The terrain became that of rolling hills with long, gradual approaches and long gradual descents. Coming out of town, I found myself chasing down Troy in second wheel with Steve lagging behind.

We had to regroup at the turn off onto the big highway. It was a great road in that the shoulder was about another lane wide. We could all ride abreast of each other and still not come close to being in traffic. Steve got caught up with us and with some encouragement from Troy, we all got going again. The mood was jovial now, even though it was pressing on us to get going. On each gradual climb, I found myself sticking to Troy's rear wheel and Steve would fall behind. Strange.....Steve was riding like I had been! Troy congratulated me on my riding and went drifting back to pull Steve back on. I just kept up the pace until finally Troy would get Steve drafted back on to our wheels.

This lasted until we got back in contact with the lake again just past the turn off to Isabella, which Troy reminded us was the name of a Hendrix tune. Hmm........okay! At any rate, we had to stop for a bit. It was around this point in the day that we all took note of how every R.V. had bicycles haphazardly attached to them. It was as if they were using Velcro to just slap the bicycles on the vehicle any which way they could. After a while Troy was getting anxious about the stop, so we took off again. Troy was also losing his patience with Steve's seemingly lackadaisical riding. Troy was pushing the pace as hard as he could, trying to make as many miles as we could get to reach the goal. We didn't get a whole lot further up the road before Steve mutinied. He had been pushed too far, too hard, and announced he was stopping to rest, whether we did or not, at the turnoff into a little resort we were approaching.

Steve pedaled up ahead with a burst of speed, launched his Schwinn into a ghost ride that took it into a grassy lawn, and belly flopped himself into the grass. Troy was dumbfounded. Wrought with anger and amazement at Steve's sudden rebellion, he just sat there on his bike with his mouth hanging open looking at me. I could only shrug my shoulders for the time being and wondered what would become of our plans to reach Canada now.

Well, Troy went into diplomatic mode. It was a prudent thing to do, seeing as how he needed to get Steve back on the bike to have a shot at making the goal he had set for us. With some agreement that we would throttle back the pace, Steve got back onto his bike and we rolled back onto the highway. It was a tense situation, and reminded me of Steven's Point, only without all the alcohol.

Position of Manistique, Michigan

We turned slightly northward now and the clouds were gathering in a hurry as we went. Troy looked up with dismay and cursed. Rain! It started out cold and wind driven, which caught us off guard, as we had enjoyed pleasant sunshine up to that point. Now we were rounding a corner on the outskirts of Manistique. Troy convinced us to keep on it till we got into town and then we could stop to find some shelter.

We got to a Hardees and pulled in. We were wet, and none of us were too keen on pushing hard in a cold, driving rain. It looked like it might only be a quick shower though, so hope was yet held out that we might get back on the road quickly, but precious time was slipping away!
______________________________________________

This was a day I remembered for the stop mentioned in the story where we observed all those RV's with the crazy bike arrangements. I can still see that moment even today. Also, the moment where Steve mutinied is another standout moment from that day, for obvious reasons. But there was another moment I never did put in this story which bears mentioning, and which affected me for years afterward. You could say it changed my thinking about pollution/littering.

We had run hard up against the Lake, and there were tall stands of grass along the roadway separating us from the shoreline below and beyond us. We had stopped for a moment to gather up Steve, as I recall, and I took advantage to have a nutritional item as I waited. We were in a big hurry, so I ripped off the wrapper and tossed it into the tall grass, stuffed my face, and then heard a chorus of protest from both Steve and Troy.

That was a big no-no!

They insisted I wade into the tall grass and retrieve my waste and we weren't leaving until I did. I kind of put up a weak fight, but seeing their resolve, I dove in, searched a bit, and came out with the wrapper held high, as if I had a trophy. The guys were relieved and congratulated me on following "correct protocol" for bicycle touring and being a good steward of Earth.

I took that lesson to heart that day. Maybe we all could do with a reminder to keep the Earth clean. 

The Touring Series: Mutiny!

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

 Welcome to "The Touring Series". This series is a re-posting of a story I told here on this blog in 2008. The story is about what I named the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour". This was a fully loaded, self-supported bicycle tour from just Northeast of Waterloo, Iowa starting in a little village named Dewar and the goal was to get to Sault Ste. Marie, Canada in one week's time. The plan called for us to be picked up there and taken home by car.

  As mentioned, cameras, smart phones, and the like did not exist for us in 1994, so images will be few. There are some though, and I will sprinkle those in when they are relevant. I will also sprinkle in any modern images of places we visited when applicable and when I can find images that convey the same look as 1995. 

__________________________________________________________________________________

We join the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour" on its seventh day out from the start in Escanaba, Michigan.........

We awoke the next morning chilly and refreshed. Much discussion was had just before going to sleep the night before and now again in the morning about just how we were going to get to Canada from here and still get home in time for work on Monday morning. Various theories were put forth, but the two main thoughts were (A) we weren't going to make it, so let's just see where we end up, and (B) we were going as far as we could today, which would leave a short jaunt into Sault Ste. Marie where we would have Steve's girlfriend pick us up. I wasn't quite sure just what would happen, but "B" sounded feasible, and I had never been to Canada, so I was game for it. Steve was of the mind that we should just throttle back and cruise to wherever that day, and then have his gal pick us up in the morning. In the end, Troy's will would carry the day, as far as the decision on what to do for our ride.

Well, that meant one thing: Go like the wind with minimal stops. So the morning out of Escanaba was all a hurry, going out to hook up with a big four lane highway heading northwards around an inlet on the north shore. Then it was straight east for a piece. The weather was sunny, with a bit of a head wind and hurrying cumulus clouds overhead. The terrain became that of rolling hills with long, gradual approaches and long gradual descents. Coming out of town, I found myself chasing down Troy in second wheel with Steve lagging behind.

We had to regroup at the turn off onto the big highway. It was a great road in that the shoulder was about another lane wide. We could all ride abreast of each other and still not come close to being in traffic. Steve got caught up with us and with some encouragement from Troy, we all got going again. The mood was jovial now, even though it was pressing on us to get going. On each gradual climb, I found myself sticking to Troy's rear wheel and Steve would fall behind. Strange.....Steve was riding like I had been! Troy congratulated me on my riding and went drifting back to pull Steve back on. I just kept up the pace until finally Troy would get Steve drafted back on to our wheels.

This lasted until we got back in contact with the lake again just past the turn off to Isabella, which Troy reminded us was the name of a Hendrix tune. Hmm........okay! At any rate, we had to stop for a bit. It was around this point in the day that we all took note of how every R.V. had bicycles haphazardly attached to them. It was as if they were using Velcro to just slap the bicycles on the vehicle any which way they could. After a while Troy was getting anxious about the stop, so we took off again. Troy was also losing his patience with Steve's seemingly lackadaisical riding. Troy was pushing the pace as hard as he could, trying to make as many miles as we could get to reach the goal. We didn't get a whole lot further up the road before Steve mutinied. He had been pushed too far, too hard, and announced he was stopping to rest, whether we did or not, at the turnoff into a little resort we were approaching.

Steve pedaled up ahead with a burst of speed, launched his Schwinn into a ghost ride that took it into a grassy lawn, and belly flopped himself into the grass. Troy was dumbfounded. Wrought with anger and amazement at Steve's sudden rebellion, he just sat there on his bike with his mouth hanging open looking at me. I could only shrug my shoulders for the time being and wondered what would become of our plans to reach Canada now.

Well, Troy went into diplomatic mode. It was a prudent thing to do, seeing as how he needed to get Steve back on the bike to have a shot at making the goal he had set for us. With some agreement that we would throttle back the pace, Steve got back onto his bike and we rolled back onto the highway. It was a tense situation, and reminded me of Steven's Point, only without all the alcohol.

Position of Manistique, Michigan

We turned slightly northward now and the clouds were gathering in a hurry as we went. Troy looked up with dismay and cursed. Rain! It started out cold and wind driven, which caught us off guard, as we had enjoyed pleasant sunshine up to that point. Now we were rounding a corner on the outskirts of Manistique. Troy convinced us to keep on it till we got into town and then we could stop to find some shelter.

We got to a Hardees and pulled in. We were wet, and none of us were too keen on pushing hard in a cold, driving rain. It looked like it might only be a quick shower though, so hope was yet held out that we might get back on the road quickly, but precious time was slipping away!
______________________________________________

This was a day I remembered for the stop mentioned in the story where we observed all those RV's with the crazy bike arrangements. I can still see that moment even today. Also, the moment where Steve mutinied is another standout moment from that day, for obvious reasons. But there was another moment I never did put in this story which bears mentioning, and which affected me for years afterward. You could say it changed my thinking about pollution/littering.

We had run hard up against the Lake, and there were tall stands of grass along the roadway separating us from the shoreline below and beyond us. We had stopped for a moment to gather up Steve, as I recall, and I took advantage to have a nutritional item as I waited. We were in a big hurry, so I ripped off the wrapper and tossed it into the tall grass, stuffed my face, and then heard a chorus of protest from both Steve and Troy.

That was a big no-no!

They insisted I wade into the tall grass and retrieve my waste and we weren't leaving until I did. I kind of put up a weak fight, but seeing their resolve, I dove in, searched a bit, and came out with the wrapper held high, as if I had a trophy. The guys were relieved and congratulated me on following "correct protocol" for bicycle touring and being a good steward of Earth.

I took that lesson to heart that day. Maybe we all could do with a reminder to keep the Earth clean. 

The Touring Series- How We Did Things

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

In case you weren't aware, every Sunday I have been reposting a series of stories about a fully loaded cyclo-tour I did back in 1994. These were remembrances and notes I took down back in '94 and again, in 2008, when I first posted the series on the blog here. I called it "The Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour".

The posts in the series have been updated with a few images and, at the end of each post, some additional commentary or remembrances that, I hope, are enhancing what I originally wrote.

Through doing this of late it has struck me how differently we did things back then. We dressed differently, we had a completely different routine due to having to deal with technology, such as it was, in 1994. We wouldn't do a cyclo-tour like that now. I'm not sure it was possible to recreate what we did even five years later. Things changed a lot after that mid-90's self-supported tour.

So, today I wanted to go over a few points that I think are interesting to consider, especially in light of where we find ourselves in 2018. I'll touch on our gear, our daily routine, and some things we did that we probably would not- or could not do- today due to technology.

First up, I wanted to talk about our gear and especially how we dressed and what we did for personal hygiene. We did things in a way that we could rely on ourselves and whatever resources we had without weighing ourselves down with excess gear.

This is Troy from 1994 with his rig at our first overnight.

What We  Wore:

We didn't wear much bike specific gear! We had clip in pedals and shoes and bib shorts. That's it! I suppose we may have had cycling gloves. We wore t-shirts instead of jerseys. We brought helmets along but only used them going through LaCrosse, Wisconsin. Otherwise they stayed firmly attached to our racks.Why?

It was our agreement that since we were riding the open road, we would possibly get smoked by a car or truck, in which case a helmet does you no good. That was our hard and fast rule, and we stuck to it. No helmets while riding on the open road. I wore a ball cap, I think Steve and  Troy had "proper" cycling caps. We each had eyewear, but I doubt any of it was cycling specific. I know Troy's was not and certainly mine was not either.

Personal Hygiene: We did "laundry" in sinks and bathrooms along the way. We each had three day's worth of clothing. As mentioned, Troy would clip his wet stuff to his bags or cable runs on the bike and let things air dry as we rode. By week's end we were all doing likewise. It was not uncommon to have t-shirts, socks, or bib shorts fluttering in the breeze as we rode down the backroads of Wisconsin. With exception of the rainy day mid-week, of course.

On this tour we seemed to luck out on getting showers. The first, fourth, sixth, and seventh nights out we found showers. The other nights we didn't. I don't remember that being a big deal if we missed getting a shower either. Of course, we brushed our teeth maybe twice a day- morning and evening.

Daily Routine: This is something I skipped over in the original notes because I figured it was so mundane at the time no one would have missed it. However; it seems like a glaring hole in the tale now, as you don't really get the feel of what every morning and evening was like out on the road.

We had dried oatmeal packets for breakfast. I believe Steve had the stove and fuel we used on this trip. Oatmeal was eaten with water and nothing else. Generally, this was around 7:00am-8:00am in the morning. We then would find a convenience store as soon as possible after we started riding to further top off the reserves. A "second breakfast", if you will.

Mid-day meals were whatever we came across out there. We had convenience store fare, but three times we ate in restaurants and once from a local grocer's deli counter. The final day we had lunch at Hardee's. (Fast food- not a restaurant!) Evening meals were either our dried meals or a restaurant, fast food, or delivery pizza. I didn't take a whole lot of money. I believe I spent, on average, ten dollars a day. That's pretty crazy to think about now!

Lack of Technology: I don't know that anyone could do a self-supported tour these days without bringing their smart phone, a camera, and possibly a navigational device. Lights too. We did not have lights and we had some pretty weak tail lights for possiblle travel in twilight hours or during adverse weather. One of us, I can't remember who, had a camera. I may have had a disposable, one time use Kodak 35mm camera. Somehow a few shots exist of this tour, but I honestly don't recall taking them, although it almost is assuredly me that was, judging by the subject matter. But anyway- no images on social media!

My wife at the time had no idea where I was on an hourly/daily basis. Think about that. Sharing anything outside of with Steve and Troy was unheard of. I mean, it wasn't even a thought. We called home maybe twice the entire week. On land lines! My parents didn't know where I was, my friends had no clue where I was, and nobody cared. The situation sure has changed now, except that almost nobody cares.

Along with that, we had no idea what the heck was going on in the world either. And we liked it that way! Ha! I'm only half kidding. Looking back, that was an awesome part about those trips. (I took another like this one I'm talking about the following year.) No stresses about what the President was Tweeting, if the world was going to be blown to smithereens, or if we weren't getting enough "likes" on Instagram.

Yeah, it was a very different world back then, and I doubt I could ever quite recreate the way it was then on a trip today. But anyway.......that's how we did things then.

The Touring Series- How We Did Things

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

In case you weren't aware, every Sunday I have been reposting a series of stories about a fully loaded cyclo-tour I did back in 1994. These were remembrances and notes I took down back in '94 and again, in 2008, when I first posted the series on the blog here. I called it "The Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour".

The posts in the series have been updated with a few images and, at the end of each post, some additional commentary or remembrances that, I hope, are enhancing what I originally wrote.

Through doing this of late it has struck me how differently we did things back then. We dressed differently, we had a completely different routine due to having to deal with technology, such as it was, in 1994. We wouldn't do a cyclo-tour like that now. I'm not sure it was possible to recreate what we did even five years later. Things changed a lot after that mid-90's self-supported tour.

So, today I wanted to go over a few points that I think are interesting to consider, especially in light of where we find ourselves in 2018. I'll touch on our gear, our daily routine, and some things we did that we probably would not- or could not do- today due to technology.

First up, I wanted to talk about our gear and especially how we dressed and what we did for personal hygiene. We did things in a way that we could rely on ourselves and whatever resources we had without weighing ourselves down with excess gear.

This is Troy from 1994 with his rig at our first overnight.

What We  Wore:

We didn't wear much bike specific gear! We had clip in pedals and shoes and bib shorts. That's it! I suppose we may have had cycling gloves. We wore t-shirts instead of jerseys. We brought helmets along but only used them going through LaCrosse, Wisconsin. Otherwise they stayed firmly attached to our racks.Why?

It was our agreement that since we were riding the open road, we would possibly get smoked by a car or truck, in which case a helmet does you no good. That was our hard and fast rule, and we stuck to it. No helmets while riding on the open road. I wore a ball cap, I think Steve and  Troy had "proper" cycling caps. We each had eyewear, but I doubt any of it was cycling specific. I know Troy's was not and certainly mine was not either.

Personal Hygiene: We did "laundry" in sinks and bathrooms along the way. We each had three day's worth of clothing. As mentioned, Troy would clip his wet stuff to his bags or cable runs on the bike and let things air dry as we rode. By week's end we were all doing likewise. It was not uncommon to have t-shirts, socks, or bib shorts fluttering in the breeze as we rode down the backroads of Wisconsin. With exception of the rainy day mid-week, of course.

On this tour we seemed to luck out on getting showers. The first, fourth, sixth, and seventh nights out we found showers. The other nights we didn't. I don't remember that being a big deal if we missed getting a shower either. Of course, we brushed our teeth maybe twice a day- morning and evening.

Daily Routine: This is something I skipped over in the original notes because I figured it was so mundane at the time no one would have missed it. However; it seems like a glaring hole in the tale now, as you don't really get the feel of what every morning and evening was like out on the road.

We had dried oatmeal packets for breakfast. I believe Steve had the stove and fuel we used on this trip. Oatmeal was eaten with water and nothing else. Generally, this was around 7:00am-8:00am in the morning. We then would find a convenience store as soon as possible after we started riding to further top off the reserves. A "second breakfast", if you will.

Mid-day meals were whatever we came across out there. We had convenience store fare, but three times we ate in restaurants and once from a local grocer's deli counter. The final day we had lunch at Hardee's. (Fast food- not a restaurant!) Evening meals were either our dried meals or a restaurant, fast food, or delivery pizza. I didn't take a whole lot of money. I believe I spent, on average, ten dollars a day. That's pretty crazy to think about now!

Lack of Technology: I don't know that anyone could do a self-supported tour these days without bringing their smart phone, a camera, and possibly a navigational device. Lights too. We did not have lights and we had some pretty weak tail lights for possiblle travel in twilight hours or during adverse weather. One of us, I can't remember who, had a camera. I may have had a disposable, one time use Kodak 35mm camera. Somehow a few shots exist of this tour, but I honestly don't recall taking them, although it almost is assuredly me that was, judging by the subject matter. But anyway- no images on social media!

My wife at the time had no idea where I was on an hourly/daily basis. Think about that. Sharing anything outside of with Steve and Troy was unheard of. I mean, it wasn't even a thought. We called home maybe twice the entire week. On land lines! My parents didn't know where I was, my friends had no clue where I was, and nobody cared. The situation sure has changed now, except that almost nobody cares.

Along with that, we had no idea what the heck was going on in the world either. And we liked it that way! Ha! I'm only half kidding. Looking back, that was an awesome part about those trips. (I took another like this one I'm talking about the following year.) No stresses about what the President was Tweeting, if the world was going to be blown to smithereens, or if we weren't getting enough "likes" on Instagram.

Yeah, it was a very different world back then, and I doubt I could ever quite recreate the way it was then on a trip today. But anyway.......that's how we did things then.

The Touring Series: Speed Touring

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

 Welcome to "The Touring Series". This series is a re-posting of a story I told here on this blog in 2008. The story is about what I named the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour". This was a fully loaded, self-supported bicycle tour from just Northeast of Waterloo, Iowa starting in a little village named Dewar and the goal was to get to Sault Ste. Marie, Canada in one week's time. The plan called for us to be picked up there and taken home by car.

  As mentioned, cameras, smart phones, and the like did not exist for us in 1994, so images will be few. There are some though, and I will sprinkle those in when they are relevant. I will also sprinkle in any modern images of places we visited when applicable and when I can find images that convey the same look as 1995. 


We rejoin the three touring cyclists as they leave Peshtigo, Wisconsin and head for the U.P. of Michigan........
____________________________________________________________________________
After lunch, we headed out again on our final bit of riding in Wisconsin. Now we were in an urban area and traffic was loud and the roads were busy. Totally unlike our morning ride, shrouded in mists and ultra peaceful. The highway we found ourselves on was the straightest way into Marinette, but it was not a lot of fun!

Troy was on a mission to put in miles, so stops were limited to direction finding through the city. The city had some pretty cool historical sites and buildings, but we didn't linger around long enough to find out anything about them. Flying over a bridge, we left Wisconsin and entered Menominee, Michigan. Now going through the city at a high pace, I turned to see Steve lagging behind a bit. No way to get Troy's attention here. It was too loud and too busy. I just turned back around, shifted up a gear, and pedaled away. Hoping Steve would hang on, I didn't look back. Troy was up the road, and I didn't want to lose contact with him.

We were hard along the lake now. Green Bay was huge and it seemed as if I was looking out on the ocean. Not a lot of time could be spent gawking though. The road turned away from the lake for a bit as it curved around the last bit of town and then we were on a two lane road headed along the northern shoreline. Troy had mercifully stopped for a brief moment to gather us all up again.

Now we had been going at a fairly steady pace all week, but I figured we had not gone over 12 miles at a crack in one sitting without stopping. That was about to change. Troy pointed to the map where it said Cedar River. "See that? We're not stopping until we get there!", Troy declared with some authority. Some amazed protest from Steve was not heard by Troy, as he was already clipped in and starting up the road before Steve finished his sentence. I shrugged and started off in pursuit. I assumed Steve did likewise.

The road was busy with traffic, so we were obliged to ride in single file along the narrow paved shoulder. It was okay, because we were out of harms way on the shoulder, that is until it got narrower, busted up, and then disappeared all together. Now I was a bit nervous, and you know, fear is a great motivator! I was flying now right on Troy's rear tire. This stretch of road seemed to take forever, and soon I just became aware of my breathing. The rhythm of it. The hum of the tires on the pavement was mesmerizing. The monotony was only broken up by the occasional driveway scattered with gravel that we would swerve out to avoid, if traffic wasn't an obstruction to that.

A super-rare shot from Cedar River Michigan of our bikes. Mine was the chrome one.

I don't know how I did it, but I maintained the furious pace set by Troy all the way into Cedar River, which turned out to be just a spot in the road for a restaurant and resort. We parked our bikes to rest up and refresh ourselves a bit. The sun was out, but it wasn't all that hot. It was hazy, sort of dreamlike. We took turns running in to use the bathroom and to grab some grub. I looked at Steve and asked how far that stretch was. He replied that it was about 25 miles. Wow! We just cracked off 25 miles in one shot. I was amazed. But we weren't finished yet. Troy wouldn't be happy until we reached Escanaba. I suppose I agreed, because there really wasn't anything else between Cedar River and Escanaba anyway!

Back to the grind! We were soon running at the same fast pace, cranking out miles underneath us. Racing to beat the setting sun. We crossed over into the Eastern time zone, which was a first for me. No time to celebrate though. Head back down and hammer! The rest of the afternoon was a blur. I just wanted it to end. Would we get to Escanaba before sun set? I wasn't so sure we would.

Finally we gained the outskirts of the city. We spied a sidewalk opposite of us as the road went to four lanes and traffic picked up tremendously. The sidewalk was smooth, almost new, if it wasn't new. It was like riding on glass compared to the rough road into the city we had ridden all afternoon. We hadn't stopped coming from Cedar City but once, so we were famished from our hard efforts. The first order of business- Food! Troy and I spied a Taco Bell several blocks ahead of us. The decision was made! I think I ordered everything on the menu, and scarfed it down gladly!

While we ate our grub, I noticed that it was cool, windy, but most of all, the twilight seemed to last forever here. The sun didn't seem to want to set. I figured out later I was just seeing the effects of being further north than I was used to. Anyway, it seemed weird up there that way.

Finally we were rolling again wondering where we would be spending our night. Suddenly we realized we were going by some enormous fairgrounds. We saw a sign that declared the U.P. State Fair was going to be opening in about a week. Hmm......... Could we poach a spot here to sleep? We pulled in and soon came across some folks in an R.V. sitting in lawn chairs. We talked to them and learned that the folks in the U.P. do not think they belong to Michigan or Wisconsin, so they have their own "State Fair". They figured we would be okay to tent it overnight, but waved us off in another direction. We took no notice of that, and went around the corner of a large building that had an opening to the east. We went in to see that it was a big show barn for judging livestock. It had just been spread with about four inches of fresh wood chips Nice and comfy. Steve then spied some folks coming out of a smaller building with towels. A shower house? We figured it was open for help that was there setting things up for the fair.

Well, we squatted right there, found the showers and took a nice long hot one, and repaired back to the cool blackness of the interior of the show barn. It was now getting dark outside. No one had come around to check on us, so we pulled our bikes in as far as we could from the door, laid out our sleeping bags on the wood chips, and fell asleep for the night.

I was beat. We did well over a hundred miles that day. I was amazed later that we had hammered away all afternoon like we did, putting in well over half the mileage of the day in two big stretches. Amazing!
_________________________________________________________________________

This was the hardest day of riding we had done the entire week. Speeds were crazy high for loaded touring and Troy was not having any of this "slowing down". He was Hell bent for leather and wasn't about to let this goal of reaching Canada slip away without a fight.

I suppose on any other day or in a different time we would have been taking back roads, but since we were pressed for time, Troy put us on the most direct route which was a busy, broken up, two lane highway. It was the worst for being friendly and having any conversations.. In fact, we didn't have any conversing, except at Cedar River and then at the end, in Escanaba. Otherwise it was total head down, all business riding.

Steve never made a pip about it, which was odd, but he probably hated the road we were on as much as I, and wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. Whatever the reason, it was Troy, myself, and Steve in third wheel all afternoon.

Stay tuned for Day Seven: Mutiny!

The Touring Series: Speed Touring

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

 Welcome to "The Touring Series". This series is a re-posting of a story I told here on this blog in 2008. The story is about what I named the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour". This was a fully loaded, self-supported bicycle tour from just Northeast of Waterloo, Iowa starting in a little village named Dewar and the goal was to get to Sault Ste. Marie, Canada in one week's time. The plan called for us to be picked up there and taken home by car.

  As mentioned, cameras, smart phones, and the like did not exist for us in 1994, so images will be few. There are some though, and I will sprinkle those in when they are relevant. I will also sprinkle in any modern images of places we visited when applicable and when I can find images that convey the same look as 1995. 


We rejoin the three touring cyclists as they leave Peshtigo, Wisconsin and head for the U.P. of Michigan........
____________________________________________________________________________
After lunch, we headed out again on our final bit of riding in Wisconsin. Now we were in an urban area and traffic was loud and the roads were busy. Totally unlike our morning ride, shrouded in mists and ultra peaceful. The highway we found ourselves on was the straightest way into Marinette, but it was not a lot of fun!

Troy was on a mission to put in miles, so stops were limited to direction finding through the city. The city had some pretty cool historical sites and buildings, but we didn't linger around long enough to find out anything about them. Flying over a bridge, we left Wisconsin and entered Menominee, Michigan. Now going through the city at a high pace, I turned to see Steve lagging behind a bit. No way to get Troy's attention here. It was too loud and too busy. I just turned back around, shifted up a gear, and pedaled away. Hoping Steve would hang on, I didn't look back. Troy was up the road, and I didn't want to lose contact with him.

We were hard along the lake now. Green Bay was huge and it seemed as if I was looking out on the ocean. Not a lot of time could be spent gawking though. The road turned away from the lake for a bit as it curved around the last bit of town and then we were on a two lane road headed along the northern shoreline. Troy had mercifully stopped for a brief moment to gather us all up again.

Now we had been going at a fairly steady pace all week, but I figured we had not gone over 12 miles at a crack in one sitting without stopping. That was about to change. Troy pointed to the map where it said Cedar River. "See that? We're not stopping until we get there!", Troy declared with some authority. Some amazed protest from Steve was not heard by Troy, as he was already clipped in and starting up the road before Steve finished his sentence. I shrugged and started off in pursuit. I assumed Steve did likewise.

The road was busy with traffic, so we were obliged to ride in single file along the narrow paved shoulder. It was okay, because we were out of harms way on the shoulder, that is until it got narrower, busted up, and then disappeared all together. Now I was a bit nervous, and you know, fear is a great motivator! I was flying now right on Troy's rear tire. This stretch of road seemed to take forever, and soon I just became aware of my breathing. The rhythm of it. The hum of the tires on the pavement was mesmerizing. The monotony was only broken up by the occasional driveway scattered with gravel that we would swerve out to avoid, if traffic wasn't an obstruction to that.

A super-rare shot from Cedar River Michigan of our bikes. Mine was the chrome one.

I don't know how I did it, but I maintained the furious pace set by Troy all the way into Cedar River, which turned out to be just a spot in the road for a restaurant and resort. We parked our bikes to rest up and refresh ourselves a bit. The sun was out, but it wasn't all that hot. It was hazy, sort of dreamlike. We took turns running in to use the bathroom and to grab some grub. I looked at Steve and asked how far that stretch was. He replied that it was about 25 miles. Wow! We just cracked off 25 miles in one shot. I was amazed. But we weren't finished yet. Troy wouldn't be happy until we reached Escanaba. I suppose I agreed, because there really wasn't anything else between Cedar River and Escanaba anyway!

Back to the grind! We were soon running at the same fast pace, cranking out miles underneath us. Racing to beat the setting sun. We crossed over into the Eastern time zone, which was a first for me. No time to celebrate though. Head back down and hammer! The rest of the afternoon was a blur. I just wanted it to end. Would we get to Escanaba before sun set? I wasn't so sure we would.

Finally we gained the outskirts of the city. We spied a sidewalk opposite of us as the road went to four lanes and traffic picked up tremendously. The sidewalk was smooth, almost new, if it wasn't new. It was like riding on glass compared to the rough road into the city we had ridden all afternoon. We hadn't stopped coming from Cedar City but once, so we were famished from our hard efforts. The first order of business- Food! Troy and I spied a Taco Bell several blocks ahead of us. The decision was made! I think I ordered everything on the menu, and scarfed it down gladly!

While we ate our grub, I noticed that it was cool, windy, but most of all, the twilight seemed to last forever here. The sun didn't seem to want to set. I figured out later I was just seeing the effects of being further north than I was used to. Anyway, it seemed weird up there that way.

Finally we were rolling again wondering where we would be spending our night. Suddenly we realized we were going by some enormous fairgrounds. We saw a sign that declared the U.P. State Fair was going to be opening in about a week. Hmm......... Could we poach a spot here to sleep? We pulled in and soon came across some folks in an R.V. sitting in lawn chairs. We talked to them and learned that the folks in the U.P. do not think they belong to Michigan or Wisconsin, so they have their own "State Fair". They figured we would be okay to tent it overnight, but waved us off in another direction. We took no notice of that, and went around the corner of a large building that had an opening to the east. We went in to see that it was a big show barn for judging livestock. It had just been spread with about four inches of fresh wood chips Nice and comfy. Steve then spied some folks coming out of a smaller building with towels. A shower house? We figured it was open for help that was there setting things up for the fair.

Well, we squatted right there, found the showers and took a nice long hot one, and repaired back to the cool blackness of the interior of the show barn. It was now getting dark outside. No one had come around to check on us, so we pulled our bikes in as far as we could from the door, laid out our sleeping bags on the wood chips, and fell asleep for the night.

I was beat. We did well over a hundred miles that day. I was amazed later that we had hammered away all afternoon like we did, putting in well over half the mileage of the day in two big stretches. Amazing!
_________________________________________________________________________

This was the hardest day of riding we had done the entire week. Speeds were crazy high for loaded touring and Troy was not having any of this "slowing down". He was Hell bent for leather and wasn't about to let this goal of reaching Canada slip away without a fight.

I suppose on any other day or in a different time we would have been taking back roads, but since we were pressed for time, Troy put us on the most direct route which was a busy, broken up, two lane highway. It was the worst for being friendly and having any conversations.. In fact, we didn't have any conversing, except at Cedar River and then at the end, in Escanaba. Otherwise it was total head down, all business riding.

Steve never made a pip about it, which was odd, but he probably hated the road we were on as much as I, and wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. Whatever the reason, it was Troy, myself, and Steve in third wheel all afternoon.

Stay tuned for Day Seven: Mutiny!

The Touring Series: Approaching The Big Lake

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

 Welcome to "The Touring Series". This series is a re-posting of a story I told here on this blog in 2008. The story is about what I named the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour". This was a fully loaded, self-supported bicycle tour from just Northeast of Waterloo, Iowa starting in a little village named Dewar and the goal was to get to Sault Ste. Marie, Canada in one week's time. The plan called for us to be picked up there and taken home by car.

  As mentioned, cameras, smart phones, and the like did not exist for us in 1994, so images will be few. There are some though, and I will sprinkle those in when they are relevant. I will also sprinkle in any modern images of places we visited when applicable and when I can find images that convey the same look as 1995. 

We join the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour" as it embarks from Gillett, Wisconsin to begin Day Six.......
___________________________________________________________________
As Troy, Steve, and I got our things packed we looked at the maps and decided that we would need to get East in as straight a direction as possible. That meant hopping on to the State highway that ran straight east after leaving town on the northern end. We got geared up and set off in a thickening fog on a cool morning.

After setting off down the road from Gillett, it was obvious that our choice was a rather sketchy one. Even though we had our "blinkies" on, the fog was so thick that we didn't see cars coming from the other direction until they were nearly on top of us. We all knew what that meant, even though we hadn't communicated about it. We were nearly invisible to cars!

Well, we hadn't gone down the road far, in pretty constant traffic, when we heard the unmistakable sound of an air horn being applied from behind us. The driver didn't just toot it either. He was laying on it, and it was getting louder and louder from behind us. First Troy bailed off the road, then Steve shortly after. I contemplated holding my ground, but with the deafening noise of the air horn seemingly right in my ear, I thought better of it and steered for the ditch. Good thing too. A huge dump truck went by in a blur right down the white line where we were riding just moments before.

Well, that had us pretty shook up. We gathered ourselves up, and pulled out the map to find some sort of way out of the death trap we had found ourselves in. There was a little discussion and then it was decided to go to a county road leading northwards off the highway not more than a half a mile up the road. It wasn't to Troy's liking, since we didn't take the time to figure out where to go after the turn, but Steve and I were insistent that we get off the busy highway as soon as possible, then we could talk. Troy wanted a plan laid out so we wouldn't have to stop, but our desires won out.

Once we found the northward road, the moods changed dramatically, and the quietness of the back road was a welcome reprieve from the mayhem of the highway. We found a straight road east not far from us, so we headed out in search of it and the next town up the road. Once we got rolling we found the fog lifting, but it was very calm and cool this morning. Eventually we rolled up to an intersection and a town just across from it.

It was a little town called Lena and as we rolled through we caught a waft of fresh pastries. That was a siren call to stop. Even Troy fell to its power and thought getting something to eat would be a great idea. We all were very pleased with our purchases and devoured them accordingly. It wasn't long before we were back in the saddle again heading eastwards for a turn northwards towards Peshtigo, where we hoped to be before noon.

After anxiously looking for what we thought was our turn, we stopped right in the middle of the road and consulted the map. I don't think we had encountered a car since leaving the highway out of Gillett, so we all felt confident in stopping right there in the road. We were all confused, because we felt that our mileage was enough to have carried us eastward to the turn off, and very near Lake Michigan, but we couldn't see anything. The fog was to blame partly, as it wasn't right on the ground anymore, but caused enough haziness as to make sighting anything around us very difficult. Suddenly, as if the veil had been lifted from our eyes, what we thought was a field of grass in the distance in front of us was finally seen for what it was- Lake Michigan!

We now knew where we were. The turn was found, and we headed northwards to a highway and our final run in to Peshtigo. It was about 11:30 am and we were looking for a bite to eat. We found a small cafe, where there was a waitress that struck me as being sad, with far away eyes, but I really had no other reason to mark her out. Something about that look in her eyes. Anyway.......

We got on our way after much delay. Troy was very anxious to put in some miles towards our Canadian destination. Time was running out, with only one more day to go for the tour. Troy wasn't going to let this slip away without a fight. I thought I knew what that meant, but I was in for a surprise or two!
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After all these years this is one of the days from that 1994 tour I often am reminded of. That foggy morning was super sketchy! Traffic was heavy on a narrow, two lane highway on a Friday morning. I imagine we escaped by the skin of our teeth that morning, but what was really crazy was that Steve and I had to practically argue with Troy to get him to not go back to that madness again.

Ironically the peaceful morning stop for pastries was met with gladness by Troy and the vast difference in feel to that point from earlier made it seem that these two memories happened on different days now.

Then the mirage-like appearance of the Lake, Michigan, was amazing. That is something that seemed magical and I won't soon forget that day just because of that. Then the slog into Peshtigo was reminiscent of our departure from Gillett. Many cars, stressful, no fun at all.

Lunch was a respite, we lingered a while in that small cafe. I still can see that waitresses eyes......

Next Week: Speed Touring

The Touring Series: Approaching The Big Lake

A Guitar Ted Productions Series

 Welcome to "The Touring Series". This series is a re-posting of a story I told here on this blog in 2008. The story is about what I named the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour". This was a fully loaded, self-supported bicycle tour from just Northeast of Waterloo, Iowa starting in a little village named Dewar and the goal was to get to Sault Ste. Marie, Canada in one week's time. The plan called for us to be picked up there and taken home by car.

  As mentioned, cameras, smart phones, and the like did not exist for us in 1994, so images will be few. There are some though, and I will sprinkle those in when they are relevant. I will also sprinkle in any modern images of places we visited when applicable and when I can find images that convey the same look as 1995. 

We join the "Beg, Borrow, and Bastard Tour" as it embarks from Gillett, Wisconsin to begin Day Six.......
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As Troy, Steve, and I got our things packed we looked at the maps and decided that we would need to get East in as straight a direction as possible. That meant hopping on to the State highway that ran straight east after leaving town on the northern end. We got geared up and set off in a thickening fog on a cool morning.

After setting off down the road from Gillett, it was obvious that our choice was a rather sketchy one. Even though we had our "blinkies" on, the fog was so thick that we didn't see cars coming from the other direction until they were nearly on top of us. We all knew what that meant, even though we hadn't communicated about it. We were nearly invisible to cars!

Well, we hadn't gone down the road far, in pretty constant traffic, when we heard the unmistakable sound of an air horn being applied from behind us. The driver didn't just toot it either. He was laying on it, and it was getting louder and louder from behind us. First Troy bailed off the road, then Steve shortly after. I contemplated holding my ground, but with the deafening noise of the air horn seemingly right in my ear, I thought better of it and steered for the ditch. Good thing too. A huge dump truck went by in a blur right down the white line where we were riding just moments before.

Well, that had us pretty shook up. We gathered ourselves up, and pulled out the map to find some sort of way out of the death trap we had found ourselves in. There was a little discussion and then it was decided to go to a county road leading northwards off the highway not more than a half a mile up the road. It wasn't to Troy's liking, since we didn't take the time to figure out where to go after the turn, but Steve and I were insistent that we get off the busy highway as soon as possible, then we could talk. Troy wanted a plan laid out so we wouldn't have to stop, but our desires won out.

Once we found the northward road, the moods changed dramatically, and the quietness of the back road was a welcome reprieve from the mayhem of the highway. We found a straight road east not far from us, so we headed out in search of it and the next town up the road. Once we got rolling we found the fog lifting, but it was very calm and cool this morning. Eventually we rolled up to an intersection and a town just across from it.

It was a little town called Lena and as we rolled through we caught a waft of fresh pastries. That was a siren call to stop. Even Troy fell to its power and thought getting something to eat would be a great idea. We all were very pleased with our purchases and devoured them accordingly. It wasn't long before we were back in the saddle again heading eastwards for a turn northwards towards Peshtigo, where we hoped to be before noon.

After anxiously looking for what we thought was our turn, we stopped right in the middle of the road and consulted the map. I don't think we had encountered a car since leaving the highway out of Gillett, so we all felt confident in stopping right there in the road. We were all confused, because we felt that our mileage was enough to have carried us eastward to the turn off, and very near Lake Michigan, but we couldn't see anything. The fog was to blame partly, as it wasn't right on the ground anymore, but caused enough haziness as to make sighting anything around us very difficult. Suddenly, as if the veil had been lifted from our eyes, what we thought was a field of grass in the distance in front of us was finally seen for what it was- Lake Michigan!

We now knew where we were. The turn was found, and we headed northwards to a highway and our final run in to Peshtigo. It was about 11:30 am and we were looking for a bite to eat. We found a small cafe, where there was a waitress that struck me as being sad, with far away eyes, but I really had no other reason to mark her out. Something about that look in her eyes. Anyway.......

We got on our way after much delay. Troy was very anxious to put in some miles towards our Canadian destination. Time was running out, with only one more day to go for the tour. Troy wasn't going to let this slip away without a fight. I thought I knew what that meant, but I was in for a surprise or two!
_____________________________________________________________________

After all these years this is one of the days from that 1994 tour I often am reminded of. That foggy morning was super sketchy! Traffic was heavy on a narrow, two lane highway on a Friday morning. I imagine we escaped by the skin of our teeth that morning, but what was really crazy was that Steve and I had to practically argue with Troy to get him to not go back to that madness again.

Ironically the peaceful morning stop for pastries was met with gladness by Troy and the vast difference in feel to that point from earlier made it seem that these two memories happened on different days now.

Then the mirage-like appearance of the Lake, Michigan, was amazing. That is something that seemed magical and I won't soon forget that day just because of that. Then the slog into Peshtigo was reminiscent of our departure from Gillett. Many cars, stressful, no fun at all.

Lunch was a respite, we lingered a while in that small cafe. I still can see that waitresses eyes......

Next Week: Speed Touring