I went to the office Friday morning with Lucia all packed up with camping gear and a days worth of things. Rather than wait till 3 I decided to take half the day off and informed them. I get 6 weeks vacation a year and almost never use more than a week so I didn’t feel too bad about it.
The night before I made an impulsive spur of the moment decision to book a Bed & Breakfast for a whopping $85. So now I’m finding myself heading South to an area I had never been, nor even heard of. And two miles before crossing into Ohio I stop to fill up with gas and find a text from my son Doug. It was a pic of me on my bike. Apparently I had passed him and didn’t know it.
I have much of the day to explore back roads to my destination. First a stop for my favorite burger in Milan Ohio, then another stop at that wonderful old 1800’s general store out in the middle of nowhere for an orange cream soda.
Passed a number of Amish children and farms near there.
Taking random turns on back country roads finds me in countless unheard of towns, if you could call them that even. I’m in the hills now with roads climbing and falling, curving and tree covered. A side road takes me to a narrow path which I turn off on and after some time I find myself at a bank of a river. Some deer and other animals are my only company. Nothing but sounds of fish jumping, the animals and the birds. I grabbed my water bottle and relaxed with a friendly woodchuck as my guest. Well I suppose I was his guest. He was a bit inquisitive. Leaving here after my break I had a group of turkeys see me off.
I arrive at my B&B in and the historical canal town “Roscoe Village”. This place was built in the 1840’s along the Erie Canal. All the old buildings and homes were restored and are time period correct. My B&B sat far up on a hill overlooking the village and hills. Excellent night and in the early morning I was out on the porch with a coffee in hand. My host cooked up breakfast. A bowl of cold fruit, berry pancakes and delicious sausages. We talked a while, the host, I and another guest staying at the inn.
Suiting up head to toe with safety riding gear I set off further South to ride “The Triple Nickel”. This is a 60 mile stretch of road that is loaded with twists and turns, sharp curves and is consistently up and down through the hills. It gets its name from it being state route 555. I arrive at the Triple Nickel Saloon and take a selfie to mark the start of the ride. Heading in I found I had no others on the road. It was a workout for sure but it had my adrenaline flowing. Soon I was banking to the left and right, climbing a hill only to sail over the top blindly and drop down a steep descending road, a curve, Rinse, repeat….over and over again. Many hills would suddenly have a sharp curve immediately after you cleared the top with only a split second to brake, downshift and hard bank in an instant. Then there were the road apples from the Amish horses. I chuckled to myself when I decided to call them “Amish Banana Peals” in my head. At first I was simple yelling * SH%T !! When coming around a curb and finding it in my path.
I survived the 555 and found the Triple Nickel Diner, the traditional place to visit for riders who [make it] to the end. A BLT and ice water and a moment to chat with other riders in the diner. As a footnote I noticed many of them bowing their heads and saying a prayer before eating. I am willing to bet it was the first time many of them ever did that. The Triple Nickel I believe brings two things out of bikers.
**1) First is you find an immediate need for God during the ride and call his name out countless times. So I expect these prayers are to say thank you and also to include some verbiage to get out of all the things you promised him during the coarse of the ride.
**2) Secondly is something that requires a change of your shorts.
Leaving the diner I headed to “The Big Muskie”. I had seen pictures of this as many riders visit but I found it hard to believe from the pictures. It is a big, or HUGE bucket that was part of a big steam shovel decades ago. It was used to strip mine thousands and thousands of acres of hills for coal. It is so big you could park cars in it side by side. The machine is no longer but the bucket remains up in the hills at the Miners Memorial.
After leaving the Big Muskie I traveled South a bit and then wanted to head West. Somehow I found myself on a back road that put me on a trail into the hills. DEAP into the hills. I was now on a loose stone covered track that became only a grassy two track. I was miles and miles into the hills. Having a single bar on the phone I did a few short video texts which went out over the next few hours. In the end I had taken a trail right through the hills from one valley to another on the opposite side. It was AMAZING. My first time truly off the roads and trail riding a distance. But I admit I was a bit panicked being miles from anyone and no clue where I was.
It was time for me to head back home. Not knowing or perhaps not caring where I was, now on a safe road I knew I had to go North West so I did. In a while I was once again along side of the Erie Canal but on the East side. I followed along for some time passing the old canal locks and little canal villages. A respectable highway came along and I jumped on. I had several hours to go in order to get home and that would put me on the roads with the deer. Deer and I don’t mix well. Some of me was left on a highway in Northern Michigan the last time we interacted. So, I moved quickly and made a continued return home with a bit of extra speed. I made one quick stop as it was on my way and where I originally was headed to before getting lost in the woods. The Longaberger Basket Building”. Again, seen pics of it and just wanted to see it myself. A very very short stop and on I went nonstop until I reached home.
Unreal what a $150 can score. A fantastic, and HARD couple days almost completely unplanned.
Thanks to Jewels for supporting me on all these crazy adventures.