MY FINAL BLOG ... 

Here are my last observations on The Norseman’s Passage. Please read and enjoy the following topics I address: 

  • To You My Reader … 

  • The Genius of David … 

  • Our Well-being … 

  • No Man is an Island … 

  • You Can Have Your Cake And Eat It Too … 

   • My Father’s Day Ride … 

   • The Slim Miss Piggy … 

   • The Joy Of Cycling … 

   • The End … 

TO YOU MY READER ... 

Thank you for being there. People enjoyed what I wrote from the comments I received. I don’t know who subscribed nor how many read what I wrote via email, Facebook, or by visiting my blog. Some of this is knowable but like ‘miles cycled’, I chose to focus elsewhere. I admit not knowing made it easier to write. Without you, though, this blog wouldn’t have happened. Thank each and every one of you. 

THE GENIUS OF DAVID ... 

The Norseman’s Passage is the product of David’s genius. The routes, the stops, the food choices, the lodgings were amazing. His decision to avoid the traditional approach of a linear journey from west coast to east and use the van to jump from one incredible setting to another underpinned all else that followed. We cycled in the best places each State had to offer. Whenever I explained David’s approach to other travelers, they consistently complimented what he had done. Instead of the sluggish drudgery of riding the US’s highways, we leapfrogged from National Park to National Park, from scenic byway to eclectic local climb. David’s brilliance and knack for finding the hidden gemstones of our country made an epic adventure even more amazing. I am grateful beyond words.

OUR WELL-BEING ... 

Four of us bicycled for two weeks and then three of us continued cycling for another four weeks. We rode thirty-eight days. We covered over nine thousand miles combined. And we experienced no serious crashes or injuries. Safe practices played a part. Luck played a part. Whatever the reason, we had good fortune throughout our journey and it should not go unmentioned. One tests the fates any time an adventure like ours is undertaken. We emerged unscathed for which I am thankful.  

NO MAN IS AN ISLAND ... 

I am a lucky person. I married an incredible woman who taught me so much, loves me with unwavering faith, and has always believed in my capability. My four children are amazing unique woman who love me as only daughters can. My four grandchildren are a source of countless joy. My siblings remain a constant in my life and remind me of both the wonderfulness and challenges of being a family. My friends love me for who I am while embracing or laughing off my quirks and foibles, for I can be a difficult companion at times. My mom, my dad, and my stepdad taught me well and were outstanding role models. I loved my job and had the pleasure of working for and with and becoming friends with many incredible people. I have been blessed in many ways. 

The Norseman’s Passage brought many new people into my life. Again I was lucky. David said yes when I asked to ride along, an inclusiveness and unselfishness for which I forever will be grateful. I wasn’t physically capable of the journey until Michelle, Eddison, and Noah worked this old body into shape. Peter, Judy, Sonya, Api and Morgan made the support van my traveling home physically and emotionally. Thank you for “my seat”.  Your humor, patience, and acceptance made the time we were together unique and special. To my fellow Norseman - David, Vik, and Jonah - what can I say. You each inspired me in your own way. You challenged me to be better. You supported me when I faltered. You needed me and I was there for you. You were my friends and companions as I undertook the most physically challenging endeavor of my life. An incredible journey blessed me with fantastic companions. 

To Spirit Sherpa, you were my role model. You believed in me and what I could accomplish before I did. Your spirit lived on in me after you departed. You are a real person but also a fictional creation who embodies virtues I sometimes lack - grace, composure and quiet strength - which I drew upon when times were the most difficult. I am not clear how much of Spirit Sherpa is real vs. invented. I know however that there would be no Spirit Sherpa without the real Sherpa. 

I cycled many miles. I climbed and descended thousands of feet. Through it all, I was never alone. The path that brought me to The Norseman’s Passage and the journey itself came about because of all the wonderful people who have been and were there for me. 

YOU CAN HAVE YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT TOO … 

I never expected to achieve anything noteworthy when I embarked on The Norseman’s Passage.  I never over-estimated my ability except in one area, but more about that in a minute. I was able to have my cake and eat it too.

My face and neck are thinner. I no longer have my love handles. My belt shrunk two holes and was threatening to shrink a third. My stomach shrunk (without losing its roundness). My legs are leaner. All in all, I feel very good about how I responded physically to this undertaking. 

I burned thousands of calories and invested them in generous meals, homemade pies ala mode, and ice cream. I lived the life of a teenager hobbit when it came to eating and I enjoyed every minute of it. I have not had as much guilt-free fun with food as I just did in more decades than I care to count. Best of all, I took advantage of every single calorie burned. I was most efficient. Which brings me to my truly noteworthy accomplishment in this trifecta … 

I did not lose nor gain a single pound from the day I left home to the day I returned. I weigh exactly the same as I did before riding over two thousand miles and climbing thousands of feet over hill and mountain. I am very proud of that. First, they said it couldn’t be done; that everyone lost weight on the journey. I believed them and until weighing myself at home was convinced I had lost ten or more pounds. Second, I lost all those inches. I gained the benefit of weight loss in how I re-shaped myself. 

My body transformed. I ate all the pies and ice cream I wanted amongst other foods. I didn’t pay for it with a single pound gained. In fact, I look better, much better, physically than I have in years. Isn’t that having my cake and eating it too? Oh, and that one ability I have always considered exceptional: my ability to eat. And my noteworthy accomplishment: not losing nor gaining weight even while riding across America. I am proud for a silly reason but who cares. Life isn’t only about serious things. 

MY FATHER’S DAY RIDE … 

I did not write about every Stage; there were three that I missed. I’m sorry I didn’t finish writing about Father’s Day. It was the most emotional day of The Norseman’s Passage except of course for the last day. The rain, cold, and wind which were brutal that day tore away much of my emotional defenses.  I was resolute and stout the entire day; I was never negative. I bicycled the sixty three miles to our mid-day destination. I saw the day as penance for my hubris in wanting to ride across our country. It was a price I felt any cross country traveler has to pay. I paid it gladly. I cried thinking about my wife and my family when everyone was young. I cried thinking about my mom and dad and stepdad. I cried over being on the bike ride and how lucky I felt. There wasn’t anything negative about what I went through. I would not categorize the tears as those of joy or happiness nor were they tears of sadness or loss either. I just swam in the emotions-of-feeling about those people and the crying was a cathartic release, a way of honoring them. I told only one person the day this happened. I told Terri a couple days ago. And now I have shared this with you. That day was a very good day and one I am very proud of. 

THE SLIM MISS PIGGY … 

I wish to give tribute to my bicycle: The Slim Miss Piggy. I never expected to name my bike. During The Norseman’s Passage, Peter complained that my bike was too heavy, the heaviest of all the bikes. I own a Giant Advanced Defy (one step above their base version) that I purchased four or five years ago. She is by no means heavy. As Peter’s joking complaints continued, I thought of some way of coming to my bike’s defense. It was during these ruminations that I settled upon the name “The Slim Miss Piggy”. Who names their bike after an animal known for its heft? No one of course. Except me. It was a way of paying homage to Peter’s complaint. The “Slim” emphasized my bike’s leanness. The Giant Advanced Defy is a light bicycle, just not ridiculously light like some race bikes. The “Slim” was the defining characteristic in my bike’s name. 

The Slim Miss Piggy performed in stellar fashion the entire journey. I never replaced a tire. I only had two flats and those in the first couple weeks; nothing afterward. I replaced the chain once. I had the brakes adjusted once. The Slim Miss Piggy was liquid fast downhill and delivered a sturdy firm ride regardless of road conditions. The Slim Miss Piggy was light enough and with sufficient gearing to help me climb every mountain, every hill, every upward encountered, and do so with reasonable aplomb. And we conquered some wonderful climbs. The Slim Miss Piggy was a great companion to me throughout The Norseman’s Passage. I was lucky to have such an outstanding bicycle to ride. 

THE JOY OF CYCLING … 

My cycling throughout the Norseman’s Passage was outstanding. On every metric, I am exceptionally proud of what I accomplished. The mountains I climbed. The number of difficult ascents that I made. I never faltered although on the rare occasion I stopped or walked if called for. I climbed at a steady pace, not fast. I learned to get stronger as I climbed. I loved the descents, especially the longer steeper ones: those pitches where I could let go, own the road, and descend as fast as I felt I could safely while still pushing the edge. I proved my chops going away on solos. I rode steadily over long distances at respectable speeds. When others needed help, I was there for them and helped in many ways. As they were there for me and helped me. I suffered setbacks and I learned. 

I always honored my commitment to my wife to behave safely. That didn’t mean I stopped riding my bike or enjoying what I was doing. For example, I descended at forty plus miles per hour and never once sought a higher speed which I easily could have nor did I ever take a curve recklessly. Riding safely for me was an act of love. 

I respected my age and balanced desire with caution. I wanted to ride every day of The Norseman’s Passage and I did. I spent my life viewing myself as an athlete and always had a hobby sport that kept me busy. But I never had a field on which to perform since leaving high school. The Norseman’s Passage gave me that opportunity, to take on something ridiculously difficult and exceed at it physically, as an athlete. I am so happy to have undertaken this  cross country ride, trained for it for seven months, and performed as well as I did. 

By the numbers: 

 - 32 days riding; 9 days not 

 ... 9 days cycled of first 15 days 

 ... 26 days cycled of last 29 days !!! 

 - 2,365 miles cycled 

 ... six Centuries; five Ninety-milers !!! 

 ... 75 miles per day on average !!! 

 - 102,951 feet climbed !!! WOW !!! 

 ... one day >7,000 ft, two >6K, three >5K 

 ... 3,300 feet climbed on average 

 - 156 hours cycling, not counting breaks 

 ... five to six hours daily on average 

All these statistics were compiled the last couple days at home and well after completing The Norseman’s Passage. Staying in the moment and ignoring miles throughout the journey was key to having fun and enjoying every day. 

THE END … 

Well, this is it. I have shared what there is to share. The blog has been a lot of fun. I loved sharing my thoughts and observations with you. Thank you for being there. 

I would love to hear from you if you have anything to share with me. 

BruceCrawford13@icloud.com; 

Thanks, 

Bruce

aka Breezer 

aka Hercules 

Stage 41 - Bangor to West Quoddy Lighthouse - July 4th Thursday 

I am up at 6:00 a.m. I had a difficult time sleeping anticipating today’s ride, ruminating on the past journey, and eager to go home. 

The final day is here.  The last ride of The Norseman’s Passage has arrived. It’s surreal how quickly time has passed. 

The weather is unbelievable again. Sunny. Nary a cloud. No discernible wind. Warm getting hotter. Maine and Mother Nature have been generous. 

DAY’S BEGINNING ... 

I look at the elevation map of our upcoming ride at breakfast. It is an image evoking countless jagged teeth, a constant series of ups and downs. I hope reality isn’t as bad as the picture. If it is, though, we are up for a challenge. Even more, I hope Maine’s roads are merely bad if not good and that we don’t encounter what we rode the last ten or so miles yesterday. 

We van to our departure point. It’s a short drive of 17 miles and gets us outside Bangor. We start our cycling in Maine’s countryside. 

TODAY’S RIDE PART 1 ... 

We finish our morning preparations and are ready to leave. Damn, Jonah’s rear tire has flatted. I decide this isn’t the time for a learning experience for David or Jonah. I take a few minutes myself replacing both tube and tire. It’s the fastest repair I’ve ever done and I’m pleased with my skill at this small task. 

We start off on route 9N. July 4th is a busy day and there is plenty of traffic. I don’t know if this is the common experience but I find Maine’s drivers accommodating and patient. 

The ride is fun. All three of us spend time riding together. Jonah rides up front with his dad. He drifts back and rides with me. At times, we ride alone separated by 50 to 100 yards. The various configurations we arrange ourselves in feel natural and comfortable. 

By midday, I am in trouble physically. The temperature is in the mid 90s and has been since early morning. A gentle wind would be nice but there is none. No clouds break the sun’s glare. Our road is more highway than byway. No shade provides a cool break. The heat radiating off the blacktop compounds the effects of the 90 degree weather. I am sweating like a pig and doing my best to stay hydrated but the sun is having its toil on me. 

The elevation map didn’t lie. We climb 3,500 feet in the first 52 miles. It’s grueling constantly going up and down and up again. I pace myself and limit my exertion as best I can but when you’re climbing, you have to work. 

Towards the end of the first half of our ride, Jonah and I spend most of our time together. Over the weeks riding and rooming together we have learned how to be comfortable with each other. We’re separated in age by four and a half decades yet we have found many ways to enjoy each other’s company. 

LUNCH BREAK ... 

After 52 miles cycling, we stop at P&J’s Grocery for lunch.  I feel out of sorts. The sun and heat are getting to me. I feel lethargic and flat. There is a limited food selection. Perhaps the best part of lunch are the two chocolate milks I drink and the Dove ice cream bar David buys me. 

Before we renew our ride, I revisit my gear. Off come the sun protectors I wear on my arms. I remove my head’s cap worn to divert sweat from my eyes. I take off my undershirt. 

TODAY’S RIDE PART 2 ... 

Luck is on my side! Two miles after P&J’s Grocery we turn off route 9N onto Jr Williams road. Shade, glorious shade!!! The break from direct sun is restorative. Lunch break provided needed rest. Energy from my meal kicks in. The cooler clothes help immensely. I’m feeling better and stronger. I’m still slower than David and Jonah and fall back. 

I decide to start Strava (a cycling application) to let my family monitor the last 58 miles of my participation in The Norseman’s Passage. I feel good knowing they are that much closer to what I’m doing. 

The cycling is fun again. I love Maine. Seeing a different part of the State from my bicycle is a joy. I’m probably suffering from too many endorphins but at times I feel moved to yell “I love Maine”. I don’t but that’s the joy I’m feeling being in Maine. 

I’m riding third most of the time. Jonah keeps drifting back to ride with me. Normally I’m in ‘the two position’ but not today. Jonah is the stronger cyclist. Suddenly, impromptu, he and I are racing each other. Uphill. It’s nuts. As Jonah pulls away, I quickly concede. I’m happy he’s victorious. It’s testament to his development. 

The day drags on. I’m having trouble staying in the moment. I can feel the end and the distraction draws me. We ride through East Machias where I catch my first smell of salt water. Emotions overwhelm me - this smell has marked the beginning of Maine Time for decades in my life - and I cry, briefly. 

The second half of the ride is every bit as lumpy as the first. We climb another 3,500 feet in the last 58 miles. In total, today’s ride has the most climbing in the Norseman’s Passage. 

We cycle along Maine’s coastline. I think about all that has happened the past 40 days to bring me to this point. Once again I find myself crying. Again briefly. I’m not very good at crying and make a miserable mess of it when I do for any extended period.

Ironically the temperature has dropped but to another extreme: it’s in the mid 60s. Ahh Maine, I do love thee. I put on all that I took off earlier: undershirt, cap, arm covers. Doing so warms me but also drops me further behind David and Jonah. 

Once again Jonah comes to the rescue. Or said perhaps more correctly, he waits to be rescuer. I catch up and we’re riding together again. His presence helps me carry on. I match his pace and the miles drop away  ...begrudgingly. The Norseman’s Passage won’t end easily. 

Jonah is having a totally awesome ride. We average 14.5 MPH for the day and Jonah never wavers. It’s a noteworthy accomplishment especially given all the climbing involved. 

THE LAST TWENTY MILES ... 

I am totally gassed. There’s another hour plus of riding and my legs are dead. I don’t hurt. I just don’t have anything left. I’m empty. 

I think about Terri and my daughters. I wish so much that they were waiting for me at journey’s end. I know Terri’s schedule precluded her being here; she’s had a busy week with meetings and the veterinarian. I schemed with my daughters for months on how to get them here and nothing worked; northern Maine is so remote. I fantasize how it would feel to be greeted by family and tell myself to stop. I want to define journey’s end by who is here.

My cycling is being driven totally on emotion. My legs are gone. But a team of wild horses couldn’t pull me off The Slim Miss Piggy. I am finishing The Norseman’s Passage on my bike. 

We’re a mile away. David, Jonah, and I race each other. I have brief bursts of energy that I squander in fun. Away go David and Jonah. I’ll meet them at the Lighthouse. 

I video the last couple tenths of my ride. I want to share these moments later via text with Terri and my daughters in a message we’ve been sharing today. 

I join David and Jonah at the entrance to the West Quoddy Lighthouse. The ‘finish’ is twenty-five yards further but we linger at the entrance enjoying the view. 

David, Jonah, and I start moving slowly downhill towards the lighthouse.

SURPRISE SURPRISE ... 

I see a couple people emerge from the building. The furthest woman has short hair, vaguely familiar. The young lady in front has longer straight hair, also vaguely familiar. She starts moving quickly uphill. Samantha? Jennifer? Who’s the second woman? It can’t be Terri, she’s in Atlanta. Which means that other person can’t be Samantha or Jennifer either. I’m confused. 

“Hey, someone needs to come down here; their wife is waiting” shouts someone else by the lighthouse. What’s going on? I want to shout out Terri and Jennifer’s names but cannot. These people below me are surely meeting someone else, someone behind me. Calling out Terri’s name would be the height of embarrassment. 

The young lady starts running uphill. Doubt vanishes. It is Jennifer. The other woman is Terri. I start running. Jennifer and I collide in one big hug. I hug her tighter. I can’t believe it. Terri is here!!! Jennifer is here!!! Emotions start to overwhelm me and I catch myself. I want to hug Terri. Now I’m with Terri. We kiss. We hug. I’m happy beyond words. 

Terri shares notes from each of my daughters. One from my son in law. There are notes from my grandchildren. The messages are sweet. 

Terri pulled off the biggest surprise. She and my daughters and friends masterminded a deception that totally hoodwinked me. 

More happens the rest of the evening (pictures, hotel, dinner, a walk) but I’ll end this blog here. 

This moment - hugging Terri  - is The Perfect Ending to my Norseman’s Passage.

Stage 40 - Oquossoc to ME - July 3 Wednesday  

I wake up early. I’m focused on being ready on time. I tell Peter: “the only way I will be on time at 8:00 is if I aim to be ready fifteen minutes early”.  I’m prophetic. I’m ready as is David at 7:58. We depart. Jonah may ride later. 

The weather is glorious again. Sunny. Few clouds. Little to no wind. Warm becoming hot. For Maine, the weather is exceptional. I’m loving it. I love riding in hot weather. 

TODAY’S RIDE ... 

David and I start on time. Peter’s challenge is met. 

David and I enjoy an awesome day, an awesome ride. 

We breakfast in Rangeley. After, we happen upon their July 4th parade. Full of kids, decorations, bikes... it reminds me of Goose Rocks Beach and their annual Bike Parade. We stop and watch. 

I feel strong the entire day. It is a constant series of ups and downs. David emphasizes the last major climb was two days ago. These are just bumps. For the day, total feet climbed will be the fourth most of The Norseman’s Passage. Nomenclature aside, it is a hard ride. My legs for the last two-thirds are especially responsive. I am happy, alive in the fullest extent, performing beyond my wildest dreams. 

We see a number of signs warning of Moose crossings. Sadly, we see no moose. 

Maine quickly earns “worst roads” of the trip. I am so happy to be in the State that I don’t mind for the most part. Maine is a poor State and, I rationalize, doing the best it can. 

Jonah joins us with twenty miles to go. It’s good for him to stretch his legs ahead of tomorrow’s ride. He does well. 

Maine’s roads turn downright horrible. Indescribable: ruts, waves, potholes, seams, bumps ...a litany of miserable. I fear for The Slim Miss Piggy. 

The ride is finally over. It’s been a wonderful day 40. 108 miles. 5,991 feet climbed. 14.8 MPH. 

DAY’S END ... 

After showering, we head to our celebratory dinner at McLaughlin’s At The Marina. The food and the service are great. I have a two pound lobster and thrill to devour it. I think of Terri and all the times we’ve had lobster together.  We have fun reminiscing and enjoying the setting. 

We return to the hotel anticipating an early start. Peter and David do a final laundry. The Norseman’s Passage rides in uniform tomorrow. 

We plan an early start. Breakfast at 6:00. Van at 7:00. 

Day 41 is almost here!!  

Stage 39 - Island Pond VT to Oquossoc, ME - July 2 Tuesday  

Once again, the window shades prove wholly inadequate to blocking out sunlight and I first wake up at 5:30. Thankfully I fall back asleep. I am up again and at it at 7:15 getting ready for a morning departure. 

Marvel of marvels, David oversleeps. Since it never happens, it’s noteworthy when it does. 

Breakfast is a hodgepodge.  David bought scones. A few of Jonah’s hard boiled eggs remain. That’s about it. 

The weather is glorious again. Sunny. Few clouds. Minimal wind. Warm becoming hot. A great day to ride. 

TODAY’S RIDE PART 1 ... 

We leave the hotel around 9:15, later than we wanted. David, Jonah and I ride together. It will stay that way till the latter part of the morning’s ride. 

The terrain is not too difficult in the early part of the ride. There are some modest ascents. Vermont is very pretty. 

Amazingly enough, I forget my water bottles. When I mention it, both David and Jonah immediately offer me one of theirs. How quickly they do so is pretty cool. Finally Peter drives by and stops. I get my water bottles while he and David discuss a problem we’re having with one of the tires; cord is showing through and the tire needs to be replaced. 

David and Jonah race to the Vermont border. Jonah wins, entering New Hampshire first. We pass throughout nearly 200 year old covered bridge. I think of Terri and take a picture. She loves old covered bridges. 

At Colebrook NH, we pass a bike shop. I stop to have my brakes adjusted; they’re soft. Jonathan the proprietor and sole employee is at a bike stand outside. Not bad working environment. His shop is called The Spoke ‘n Word. He is great. Jonathan checks my brake pads. He tightens them reducing the softness in my hand levers, and shows me how to make the same fix if I need to in the future. He recoils the frayed end of a cable and reattaches its cover. Jonathan cleans and apples a plastic strip to two spots on The Slim Miss Piggy’s frame where the paint is rubbing off. For all this Jonathan charges five dollars. I hand him a ten. He explains he doesn’t accept tips but donates said money to a local charity for young children and biking. I wish I had given him a twenty. 

Jonah is feeling the after affects of yesterday’s ride and especially the climb up Mansfield Mountain. At one point, Jonah isn’t visible behind us. David and I wait. When he doesn’t appear, I ride back to see what’s up. Jonah is eating; his legs are ‘dead’ (cycling term meaning ‘are not strong’). It appears to me he has bonked (fuel tanks are empty). I supplement his food supply. We continue cycling and catch up to David. The two talk. I continue to ride with Jonah. 

Three quarters of the way through the morning’s fifty miles, we hit some pretty nasty climbs. Jonah is really struggling. I ride by his side. There’s not a lot I can do. I offer him more food. I try and take his mind off his suffering with inane jokes and trivial banter. The final ascent of the morning’s ride hits 10% - 12% grades. Jonah fights his way to the top; David is there encouraging him on. 

We take a break at the summit. When it’s time to descend, I leave first and David chaperones Jonah. 

The first half of the descent is a drop and I love it. I’m a bullet streaking down the road. I’m flat on my handlebars. Both hands in my drops, touching the brakes if they’re needed. Most of my weight is in the forward portion of The Slim Miss Piggy. I navigate the descent picking the best spots to ride. The Slim Miss Piggy is fast going downhill. The 28mm tires provide a sure feel and stability; they’re also fast.

I meet Peter where we’re lunching in Errol, NH. David and Jonah join about twenty minutes later. 

TODAY’S RIDE PART 2 ... 

Peter departs for a town we passed through twenty miles ago. A replacement tire is available there. 

David, Jonah and I depart for the last leg of our day’s journey, a forty mile ride. David suggests I go ahead solo if I want as Jonah and he will be slower. Initially I decline and we ride as a group. Once I ‘recover’ from lunch, I feel good and decide to proceed alone. 

I enjoy the solitude of cycling by myself. This is how I ride 95+% of the time; my feelings are no reflection on my fellow Norsemen. I spin a high cadence. I maintain a speed around 16-18 MPH on the flats, and much higher on the descents. 

There are several significant downhills, elevation declines of 8% or greater. The Slim Miss Piggy flys down these hills, little to no pedaling necessary. I’m moving at speeds at times in excess of 45 MPH. The Slim Miss Piggy is steady and sure. Rocketing downhill. Eventually two cars appear far behind me, gaining slowly. I keep streaking. Eventually the cars are close enough, the grade too modest, and I pull over so the cars can pass. The passengers in the first car give me a thumbs up for my descent. 

The ride is a joy. The weather perfect. I’m in Maine. I snap a picture of the sign welcoming me and try to send to my family. Of course, no service. A theme of our trip. 

My ride ends after 92+ miles. I am greeted by Peter. I shower and we wait for David and Jonah. Testament to my decision to ride alone, they arrive over an hour later. 

DAY’S END ... 

We have a wonderful dinner. Service is classic Maine (I’ll say no more). We have fun reminiscing. 

We have two more rides. It’s a crazy mixed up feeling. 

Peter challenges us to leave on time just once. We commit to doing so tomorrow. 

Stage 38 - Wilmington, NY to Island Pond VT - July 1 Monday 

Jonah and I forgot to close the window blinds last night. I wake up at 5:30; it’s daylight in our room. I close the blinds and a Jonah sleeps on unperturbed. I’m awake and my day has started. 

TODAY’S RIDE PART 1 ... 

We depart shortly after 7:30. David sets a fast pace. After a few miles, we settle into a more comfortable cadence which we maintain the rest of the morning. 

It’s an absolutely glorious day. The sun is bright. It’s warm. There are few clouds. The wind has disappeared. Hallelujah!!! 

We ride uninterrupted most of the way. Jonah takes the lead midway through the route and leads David and I for a significant period. Jonah is climbing hills with confidence. It is fun and rewarding to follow in his wake. I congratulate him when he slows and David and I alternate leading. 

We stop at the Ausable Chasm and marvel at the views. 

Our ride ends after about 30 miles of cycling. It was a pleasurable start to the day. 

INTERLUDE ... 

At Port Kent, we wait for the Ferry. We arrived 30 minutes early! After a delightful hour boat ride, we find an outstanding eatery named XXX and enjoy a great lunch. Back in the van to our next adventure: Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream Factory. 

Ben & Jerry’s is much like I remember it from an earlier visit. As is true with other nostalgic stops, there’s significantly more commercialization. I don’t begrudge B&J making a profit. 

TODAY’S RIDE PART 2 ... 

We leave Ben & Jerry’s on our bikes. I always enjoy the distinction that comes from being the only bicyclists. I wear my uniform well and I’m proud of my fitness. A little ego and a little vanity is ok I think. 

The next ten miles or so are uphill. There are several sections with grades between 12% - 15%, nasty little buggers. I climb them in my lowest gear. David powers up them. I wait for Jonah at the top while he manages the uphill. After about five miles, the road is mostly hard packed dirt. We have no choice but to continue. As difficult as the ascents are, the descents are scarier. I’m happy to be riding The Slim Miss Piggy and her 28mm tires. 

We meet up with Peter in Stowe. The climb of Mansfield Mountain awaits us. I’m not familiar with it but David’s glee forewarns it will be a challenge. It is. 

MANSFIELD MOUNTAIN ... 

We start off together but David and Jonah drop back quickly. I’m on my own. It is a seven mile climb. The first miles are mostly up with a few flat or downhill segments. Then it’s all uphill. The couple sandwiches I ate prepping for the ride are providing necessary fuel. Finally I’m gassed. The last two-tenths are 15% - 17% and I walk them. The road is so narrow and twisty that I play traffic cop a couple times. 

Peter arrives. Then David and Jonah summit. After a small break, we’re off on the descent. Again I am on my own with The Slim Miss Piggy as my trusted companion. I know where to position my body to maximize my speed downhill while keeping the front wheel steady and true. Riding lots and lots of miles for hours and hours allows for significant learning. The descent is a trip. I don’t have to pedal yet hit speeds upwards of 48 MPH. There are sections of the road with potholes so bad they’re dangerous. I’m watchful and ever alert and steer a safe course downhill. I’m not worrying about cars behind me. I’m at or above the speed limit. I own the road and they need to pass me when they can. As the descent smooths out, I re-acknowledge the automobile’s right of way and resume riding accordingly. 

DAY’S END ... 

We regroup in the town of Cambridge and load our bikes on the van. It’s 7:00 pm and we have cycled sixty miles with another thirty-five to our lodging. David calculates and recalculates the ride’s end. I’m ok with another hour of cycling but the problem is forecasting the remaining climbs and their severity. We decide to call it a day and drive the rest of the way. Good decision: the last ten miles include five that are a combination of packed dirt and gravel. 

We stop for dinner at 8:45. We visit Jessie’s  Little Kitchen. The owner/cook takes our order at the front door to her home. We order a extra large pizza and a family salad. She tells us to return in 30 minutes for our food. No money exchanges hands. In contrast, we couldn’t order ice cream without paying for it first the past several days. This woman trusts us to pay for food worth far more than ice cream. The pizza was outstanding. 

Of course, we end the day splitting three pints of Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream: Mint Chocolate Cookie, Half Baked, and Cinnamon Bon. Bedtime follows shortly. 

Tomorrow we leave Vermont, ride through New Hampshire, and enter Maine. The Norseman’s Passage is drawing to a close. 

Stage 37 - Wanakena to Wilmington, NY - June 30 Sunday 

We wake up to rain. A steady pouring of water. Rain. The forecast is for more rain with a 60% chance it will continue across our entire route. We go for breakfast. Afterward, we retreat to the cabin. 

While the rain continues, I take advantage of the time and do a complete set of my stretches. After yesterday’s 110 miles, my stretching routine feels especially good. Ahhh, I’m so looking forward to seeing Michele and my next massage. Or two. Or three. This old body needs work. 

TODAY’S RIDE ... 

The rain lets up and we’re off. I dress anticipating the worst: leg warmers, toe covers, and my rainbreaker in a jersey pocket  it rains on and off. Finally I put on my rainbreaker; I see no reason waiting till everything is soaked. After about ten miles cycling, we stop for ice cream. We see patches of blue sky. Some of us are more optimistic than others. I replace my toe covers with full shoe covers and my sunscreen arm covers with arm warmers. 

The ice cream stop is comical for the service. It takes forever for someone to greet us. Upon learning we only want ice cream, we’re sent their ‘expert’. She cannot understand Peter. She doesn’t know the makeup of different flavors. She revisits our table multiple times upon discovering they’re out of something we ordered. She returns multiple times having forgotten what someone ordered, even though she wrote it down. Peter and I are served. Then there’s at least a five minute pause before David and Jonah are served. It’s all quite curious. 

We resume cycling. There’s rain and more rain. David and Jonah are cold. It’s miserable. We stop to see Peter. We all decide to stop cycling for a while. Bikes atop the van while waging war against the swarming mosquitoes. 

RIDE’S END ... 

We drive to Tupper Lake. It’s stopped raining. The bikes come off the van. We visit a nearby McDonalds and use its bathroom. The rain restarts. The forecast is bad. We call it quits for the day. We van to and through Lake Placid and arrive at our lodging in Wilmington. 

David and Peter do laundry. It’s interesting and perhaps ironic for four guys to be so concerned with cleaning their clothes. 

Late afternoon the rain stops, the clouds disappear, and the sun comes out. It’s suddenly a beautiful day.  

We agree to an early start tomorrow to catch the morning ferry in Port Kent. I go ahead and clean The Slim Miss Piggy now. The rain made her plenty dirty. 

DAY’S END ... 

We drive to Lake Placid for dinner. We settle on Eleanor’s Kitchen, highly rated on YELP. I’m tired and hungry, not a good combination. There is no list for tables, an irritation I share. Customers leave and we scarf up a table. Once in line (we order and watch our meal cooked), the patron before us orders dinner for twelve. I’m really annoyed. I sit down. Finally I ask this person how many orders she has. She doesn’t like my question or my tone. I’m pissing off everyone. Finally we get to order, watch our meal cooked, and chow down. I leave a generous tip. Afterward, I approach the two women who cooked my meal and compliment them on its excellence. I apologize for being such a grump. They are both very appreciative. We leave on friendly terms. 

The evening is not over. Emma’s down the street has ice cream. We each order a sizable waffle cone. Our second ice cream of the day. I’ve corrupted David, Jonah, and especially Peter. The ice cream is delicious and we are all stuffed. 

We drive back to our cabin and retire for the night. Sated. Happy. Looking forward to cycling tomorrow. 

Stage 34 - Clare to Niagara Falls, Canada - June 27, Thursday

David, Jonah and I plan on an early biking start. I am very happy to be cycling today. We meet at 6:30, put our bags in the van, get our bikes ready, and have a quick breakfast. I’m always amused by the looks we get. When people learn of our journey, they view us in a different light, always favorable and not infrequently envious. 

TODAY’S RIDE ... 

We are on our bikes and off to Lake Huron fifty miles away.

We start on a Rails to Trails path. Jonah takes the lead and sets a pretty aggressive pace. Did someone spike his coffee, I wonder. Soon David takes over and keeps us moving quickly. I smile to myself acknowledging we will complete our ride with time to spare. It’s a win-win moment. 

The scenery along the path is pretty and pleasant for the most part. However, the physical ride itself is annoying. Whoever patches the trail leaves “seam bumps” along a good portion of the path. Each time we cross one our crotches receive a jarring jackhammer hit. It is not a good feeling, over and over. After 20-25 miles, we leave the trail behind. 

The first of Michigan’s roads after the Rails to Trails path are very congested. David improvises and we limit our time on them. Pretty soon we’re on less congested back roads. They too are very bumpy. Michigan’s roads suck as badly as Minnesota’s. However, unlike Minnesota, Michigan’s scenery is not adequate compensation for its lousy roads. Michigan drivers are also unfriendly; even the odd trucker doesn’t wave.  

We’re nearing ride’s end when the van passes us. About 8 miles later, we pass the van parked at our end point to ride to Lake Huron’s edge. This is Michigan’s easternmost land border. We’ve crossed the State! We load our bikes onto the van and set forth to the border and Niagara Falls. 

THE VAN EXPRESS ... 

Judy and Api are magnificent. Everyone collaborates. Efficient stops. We maintain steady pace through busy traffic or not. Arrive at hotel just before 5:00. In retrospect, while I complimented both on their driving, I didn’t really thank everyone for pulling together so we arrived on time. I’m sure they know how much I appreciated it. 

REUNION ... 

I jump out of van and hurry inside looking for Terri, Liz and Ryan. They text they’ll be right there, their arrival delayed five minutes by a long line across the street. We unpack and are checking in when I see Terri. I hurry to hug her. Then Liz and Ryan. It’s a wonderful feeling. 

We hang out in my room. It’s nice to have time to ourselves. We meet everyone else at 7:00 for dinner. During dinner, I decide I’m going to Buffalo with Terri and Liz. It doesn’t make sense for Liz to pick me up Friday morning so we can spend the morning together. I wonder why I ever thought that was a good plan. We make quick and heartfelt goodbyes to Judy, Api, and Morgan. They were wonderful companions and it was great getting to know them better. Later I regret the hurried, last minute goodbyes but right now I’m only thinking of being with Terri and family. 

Buffalo is nice. Terri is tired from her, Liz and Ryan’s day in Niagara Falls: boat ride, zip line, and arcade. I need to do laundry. Later I join Terri and we fall asleep holding hands.