tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78230797003101258912024-03-14T07:36:39.738-04:00BikeHomeHeading Home: Bicycling the UGRRJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.comBlogger105125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-43259962741697929012014-06-27T03:01:00.000-04:002014-06-27T03:12:05.606-04:00Final Thoughts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Okay, this is it. I am finally down to my final thoughts about my six-week, 1,822-mile tour of the Underground Railroad Bicycle Route from Mobile, Alabama, to Niagara Falls, Ontario. In no particular order...</div>
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<li>Wow. This is a vast beautiful country. I had flown across the country before, so I knew it from that perspective. It's a whole different thing, though, to see it on the ground, up close and personal, mile after mile, out in the open air, talking to locals along the way. Before this trip, I never had any yearning to see the states of Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio. I am now so pleased that I have seen them. Every state has beauty in its landscapes and in its people. Over and over during the tour, I would think, "I could live here!"--which surprised me. I now realize that I could live in lots of different places; it opens up the world for me.</li>
<li>If opossums and turkey vultures join forces, they could take over the world. Just sayin.' (I did not know before doing this trip that every state has a whole <i>lot</i> of opossums and turkey vultures.)</li>
<li>Was I happy with how much Underground Railroad history I learned on this trip? Yes and no. I think the trip leaders should have been given a notebook of information about the Underground Railroad and about the related sites and history along the route. That would have made it easier to know and take advantage of everything there was to learn and see along the way. So much of our energy was used every day to bicycle the miles and take care of the basics (setting up camp, cooking, doing laundry, etc.) that we didn't have much time and energy left over to do a lot of research. Also, we missed seeing a number of museums and sites because we hit them when they were closed. All that said, though, I think we saw an amazing number of sites along the route. I figured out after I got home that, by ending the trip at Niagara Falls instead of the route's official end point (Owen Sound, Ontario), we missed a whole slew of historical sites in Canada. Apparently there are more than 30 sites in the Owen Sound area alone where black settlers lived, worked, and were buried. I guess I might have to plan another trip... </li>
<li>I discovered that, if I just keep pedaling, I can cover a lot of ground. I now feel like I can bicycle anywhere. I'm not too proud to walk a super-steep hill every now and then. Walking stretches out my sore feet, saves wear and tear on my knees, and doesn't slow me down all that much; I still get where I'm going.</li>
<li>Even though I did not think that I needed a confidence boost, this trip definitely gave me one anyway. Successfully navigating 1,800-plus miles, and riding most of those miles by myself, was empowering. I feel like I can accomplish anything I choose!</li>
<li>I have always had good gut instincts but, too often, I have ignored them or second-guessed them. I worked hard during this trip to pay attention to my gut instincts and trust them. This worked well for me; it's a skill I hope to continue to hone.</li>
<li>Having now spent six weeks without TV or movies, without constantly listening to music, with minimal phone calls, and with limited Internet access, I think normal life is cluttered with over-stimulation. I think multi-tasking is bad for our well-being and adds unnecessary stress to our lives. Now that I am home, I am making a concerted effort to limit my exposure to the normal bombardment of daily stimulation, focusing on fewer things at one time.</li>
<li>I love bicycling! Yes, even after bicycling all those miles, and even after suffering the consequences of overdoing it a bit. (See next bullet item.) A week after I got home, I rode the 62-mile route of the <a href="http://www.bikemaine.org/events/womens-ride" target="_blank">Maine Women's Ride</a>, sponsored by the Bicycle Coalition of Maine every year in early June. That route kicked my butt; it was a very real reminder that Maine is hilly! It was a gloriously beautiful day, though, and I saw more scenic wonder (sweeping views of the rocky coast, pastures, farm animals and fields, mountains, hills, and trees) per mile than anything I saw during my UGRR trip--which was a nice reminder of why I love Maine so much.</li>
<li>I learned the hard way that it is, indeed, possible to overdo something I love, to get too much of a good thing. I said in some blog posts during the trip that I had learned that I am not a 60-70 mile-a-day rider because riding that many miles turns a pleasurable thing into a bit of misery. Well, it's actually worse than that. Riding all those miles day after day did a bit of nerve damage. My two big toes and the heels of my hands still have some numbness. Riding 62 miles on the Maine Women's Ride (see previous bullet item) exacerbated this problem; when I finished the ride, I couldn't lift my hands above my shoulders. Not good! To try to turn this situation around, I am seeing a chiropractor three days a week. I am also limiting my rides to much shorter distances--6 to 25 miles at one time. </li>
<li>Other than the nerve damage, I am in better physical shape now. I am 40 pounds lighter than I was in early January. I lost most of the weight while training for the tour, but I continued to lose weight on the trip (and afterwards too). My legs are amazingly strong now. I need to get back in the gym to continue toning my arms and abs. Strangely, I don't feel that different than I did before, which makes me think I will have to be vigilant to make sure I don't pack the pounds back on.</li>
<li>Was buying the fat bike worth it? A resounding "yes!" to that one. It not only gave me a way to get some pre-trip riding in, it gave me a physical activity that I enjoy doing outdoors during the winter. I had the best winter in many years. I have continued to ride the bike some since I've been home, and I am looking forward to riding some trails that my road bike would never be able to handle.</li>
<li>Did I have any great insights during the tour about what I might eventually do for paid employment? Not exactly. I had a lot of fantasies and entertained many partially-formed ideas. I would definitely like to find something high on the love scale and low on the stress scale. Thankfully, I'm not feeling anxious about this, and I'm not currently looking for work. I have some other things to focus on first. (See next bullet item.)</li>
<li>What's next? I am back to working on building the house I began years ago but let sit untouched for three years. I will be updating my <a href="http://riveredge-jaybee.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><b>blog</b></a> about that project soon. I am doing shorter bicycle rides two or three days a week.</li>
<li>Will there be any more long bicycle tours in my future? Maybe. I will either have to find a tour that plans fewer miles a day and more layover days, or I will have to design my own. I did a mini trip to Camden, Maine, this week that worked well. I camped overnight at a state park and did a 28-mile loop ride in Camden on a perfect day for bicycling. It was a hilly route but doing fewer miles gave me lots of opportunities to stop to take pictures, eat snacks, visit parks, take rests, etc. It was fun and didn't tax my body too much. (As a bonus, I got to visit with two of the UGRR riders who have started riding the 4,407-mile <a href="http://www.adventurecycling.org/guided-tours/van-supported-tours/2014-northern-tier/" target="_blank">Northern Tier</a> route from Bar Harbor to Seattle.) Here are photos and a route map from my Camden ride:</li>
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Downtown Camden is quaint, with great views of the hills...</div>
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and harbor...<br />
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Sunday morning is when a lot of the schooners leave for their week-long cruises...<br />
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Many years ago, I spent a week on the Mary Day...<br />
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Kayak tours leave from here as well...<br />
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Many years ago, I brought a group of teenagers to an evening performance of a Shakespeare play in this outdoor theater.<br />
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Bay View Avenue (miles 4-5) has many estates and, occasionally, a glimpse of the water...<br />
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Further inland (miles 6-22), there are great views of the Camden Hills outcroppings...<br />
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...and lots of freshwater views.<br />
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Nice town park in Lincolnville (mile 15):<br />
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Ocean view (mile 23.5):<br />
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Ocean views from the Shoreline Trail at Camden Hills State Park (mile 26):<br />
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Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-71005720548201646772014-06-12T14:55:00.001-04:002014-06-13T10:36:57.604-04:00About Those DogsIf you have followed along with my blog for the entire trip, you know that we were plagued by loose dogs that terrorized us along the route by charging and chasing us...through almost every state. Leash laws either do not exist or are not enforced in Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee, and Kentucky. Sometimes we were charged by an individual dog; sometimes we were charged by multiple dogs, up to eight at a time. By the time we were halfway through Ohio, the dog problem became rare. Most dogs from then on were leashed or fenced, or were under voice command.<br />
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<h4>
Anatomy of an Attack:</h4>
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In the photo below, I'm at an intersection of two roads in Ohio. (The intersection is behind me.) I have stopped to study my map and directions. Looks like a nice day and a nice road, doesn't it? There is even a small shoulder on this road.<br />
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Look again. See who have spotted me and are getting ready to "greet" me?</div>
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While I hesitated to move forward, these dogs set to barking incessantly. I got lucky this time; the owner of the dogs came out of the house and called the two dogs inside. Phew! I was able to cycle forward without being molested.</div>
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What usually happened: The dogs would get wound up into a frenzy by watching my feet spinning on the pedals, and they would charge out into the road, barking and leaping. The particularly vicious ones would snarl, bare their teeth, and act like they were going to bite. A few of the other riders, particularly the men with deep voices, could occasionally yell "Go home!" or some such thing and have that stop the dogs. I found that yelling mostly did not work for me. Oftentimes, if I talked sweetly to them, I could get them to calm down. What I said didn't matter, as long as I said it in a sweet, friendly voice. ("Hey, good dog. I'm really not that interesting. There's nothing for you here. Aren't you a good dog! You can go home any time now...") The one thing that universally worked for me was to stop pedaling. Every dog would stop charging if I stopped pedaling. I pretty quickly figured out that, if I stopped pedaling while they were still far off, they would stop charging before they were on top of me. If I thought I could out-run them, I'd pedal hard--boosted by the added adrenaline. If I was headed downhill but they were gaining on me, I stopped pedaling (which stopped their charge) and coasted out of harms way. If I was headed uphill, I would stop pedaling...but try to resume pedaling before I lost all momentum. The tenacious dogs would resume their charge as soon as I started pedaling again. Unfortunately, that meant I sometimes had to get off my bike and walk. If I was lucky, I wouldn't have to walk too far before the dogs would lose interest and I could get back on my bike and pedal. In one case, I wondered if I would have to walk the whole route. A pair of large, particularly-vicious-sounding dogs charged me and forced me off my bike. When I had walked about 30 feet away from them and was starting to think about getting back on my bike, one of the dogs would charge me again (and his buddy would join in). I stopped walking and turned around to face them, and they would stop charging when they were about ten feet from me. I resumed walking, would get about 30 feet away, and they would charge again. Over and over. Scary.<br />
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Other riders tried more aggressive deterrents--squirting water, kicking, or squirting pepper spray (or other toxic substances, like ammonia). My concern about these methods is exactly what they teach the dog. Will the dog learn to stay away from bicyclists? Or might the dog became more hateful, and work harder at getting the jump on the next bicyclist that comes along? When on a tour, that next cyclist would be one of the other riders in your group.<br />
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Where were the dog owners? Mostly nowhere around. On the rare occasion, the owner was in the yard or came out of the house because their dog was barking ferociously, but this usually did not help. An owner might yell out, "Don't worry, he won't bite!" but this is not at all reassuring; these people really have no idea how crazy dogs go for pedaling feet. Of all the owners who attempted to stop their dogs from charging, only two were able to do so.<br />
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What is Bicycle Friendly?</h4>
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Prior to this trip, I thought that making a community or state bike-friendly was all about the quality of the roads. I now know that a state that allows dogs to terrorize people on bicycles cannot be considered bike-friendly, regardless of the roads. It would be nice if dog owners valued keeping their dogs safe from charging out in traffic and making sure their dogs don't terrorize bicyclists. More important: Enforced leash laws are key. </div>
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Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-63974169774193264712014-06-12T12:47:00.001-04:002015-03-20T08:47:39.223-04:00How the Riding and Cooking WorkedWhile on the tour, it was all I could do to post at least once a day to my blog about where I was and what I had seen along the way. I kept thinking I would find the time to explain how some of the trip logistics worked, but I never did. Sorry about that. I will explain a few things now, after the fact.<br />
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<h4>
The Riding</h4>
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A number of people expressed concern that I rode alone every day on the tour. Especially after I <a href="http://bikehomeugrr.blogspot.com/2014/04/lost-in-hail.html" target="_blank"><b>got lost</b></a>. Surely being on a guided trip meant that I would be riding with other people, right? Actually, both things were true.<br />
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Every night after supper, we met as a group to review the route for the following day and to learn specifically where we would be spending the next night. (Sometimes our destination would be off the official route by several miles.) In the morning, after breakfast was cleaned up and we had packed our lunches on our bikes, everyone's personal gear was loaded in the trailer, and the group gear was all packed up, riders could choose when to start riding. I got in the habit of being on the road no later than 8:00am.<br />
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It was each rider's responsibility to understand the route and to navigate the route to the next destination. Riders could choose to ride together or on their own. Other than the couples, who all chose to ride with their partners, the rest of us single folks all rode on our own. There were stretches where I rode and chatted with another rider but, inevitably, our riding paces would be different and we would end up separated. Usually I saw other riders on and off all day long. Typically, I was one of the first to start out on the road, but my pace was slower than most. Other people put a high priority on finding good coffee and yummy food, so they would frequently stop at local eateries and watering holes. I don't drink coffee and I eat gluten free these days, so eating out has mostly lost its magic for me. I almost never stopped at eateries; I relied on the lunch and snack food I packed in the morning to get me through the day. I stopped at mom-and-pop markets to buy cold drinks or the occasional ice cream. While other riders were scouting out eateries or consuming meals at restaurants, I would mosey on by. Later in the day, those riders would zip past me on the route. I could ride for hours by myself and have the impression that I was alone on the route. Once I stopped by the side of the road to have a snack or eat my lunch, however, it wasn't long before other riders would come along and pass me. As long as I was on the route, I could count on others coming upon me along the route. It was not uncommon for the same rider to pass me three or four times during the day!<br />
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Getting lost is a drag, no doubt. The route maps are great but they show only a narrow corridor and they don't identify many off-route roads. Once you stray a little distance off the official route, you risk being completely off the map. With a lot of miles to ride every day, involuntarily riding a bunch of additional off-route miles feels demoralizing. Every night I wrote my own navigational directions that I could read while riding; I positioned these next to the map in the map case that sits on top of my handlebars.<br />
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I had two dramatic lost moments early on in the trip, which added miles to those two days. The first time, I kept following Huey when he repeatedly said "Let's go two more miles!" even though I really felt we were going the wrong way; that added up to eight or so extra miles. The second time, I knew I'd ridden too far without finding the turn I was expecting, but I kept on riding anyway; that resulted in riding an extra five miles and over an extra mountain. I learned my lesson after that. I didn't blindly follow any other rider; I made sure I made my own navigational judgments. I also trusted my gut. If I felt a niggling worry that I was off route or about to make a mistake, I would stop and study the map and directions; this saved me making errors countless times!<br />
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Note: Other riders did not place such a high priority on staying on route. Some did not seem to mind riding a bunch of extra miles. Others were navigationally challenged and did not appear to improve these skills during the trip. While regularly getting lost or not being able to reliably navigate would make me miserable on a trip like this, others seemed quite comfortable winging it.<br />
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<h4>
The Cooking</h4>
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We were assigned cooking duty in pairs. Cooking duty involved planning the menu and shopping list for a supper and the following breakfast and lunch. The leader who was driving the van for the day would do the shopping. (This worked well, unless the leader lost the shopping list.) We ate supper at 6:00pm. The cooks put out wash water for everyone to wash their own dishes, and the cooks cleaned up the cooking pots. The cooks would get up early the next day to start heating water for coffee and breakfast. Breakfast was generally from 6:30-7:30am. Lunch stuff was put out in the morning so everyone could pack lunch and snacks for the day.<br />
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I think the cooking went remarkably smoothly on our trip. People generally offered to help out, so there always seemed to be enough hands to get things done. People had lots of tasty menu ideas. We definitely ate well.<br />
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I brought a bag of foods to use to ensure I ate gluten free on the trip. I brought a lot of dried brown rice and quinoa especially, so I would have a substitute to use any time the group ate pasta. I only used a pasta substitute twice. This was because the other riders were very careful as cooks to ensure that my gluten-free needs were met. What I really ended up eating out of my bag of food was the dried fruits. Next time, I would bring more of those and gluten-free granola bars.<br />
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Cooking duty was not without controversy. The leader responsible for creating the cooking-duty roster had no aptitude for this kind of task. The roster never approached a fair and equitable distribution of cooking duty among the different riders. For example, I cooked three times during the trip, but others cooked five or six times. It made no difference that people pointed out these problems with the roster; it was what it was, and I was surprised that people mostly just let go of the irritation and went along with it. Our group was good like that; everyone seemed willing to offer up suggestions for improvements but also were able to go along with things for the sake of harmony.<br />
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Nora and me cooking together...<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[photo credit: Barb Wade]</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[photo credit: Barb Wade]</span></div>
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Tony and Zoe cooking together, and trying to keep things out of the rain...<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[photo credit: Barb Wade]</span></div>
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<br />Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-69973856404004121162014-06-11T10:16:00.000-04:002015-03-20T08:47:08.215-04:00Did I Take the Right Gear?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I guess I need to put some closure on this blog now that the tour is over. So, upon reflection, did I take the right gear? What different things might I have taken if I knew then what I know now?</div>
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<li>I definitely made the right choice to take mostly wool clothing and minimal synthetic clothing, contrary to what is currently popular in the cycling world. All the wool shirts were perfect--cooler in the heat, warm even if wet, quick to dry, and basically unstinkable. Wool socks are warmer in the cold/wet and cooler in the heat. The wool arm warmers and leg warmers did the trick, and seemed far more effective than the synthetic ones other riders used. I had never used "warmers" before this trip. I like them! They make it easy to change clothing by the side of the road without getting naked, and they are less bulky to carry on the bike.</li>
<li>Taking three pairs of cycling shorts, instead of the recommended two pair, was a good idea. Surprisingly, having a pair of cycling shorts made of wool didn't seem to matter very much; the synthetic ones were fine. I think if we had had more hot weather, the more breathable wool shorts would have been more important.</li>
<li>For non-cycling clothes, I took lightweight, quick-drying shorts, pants, and a long-sleeve shirt--all good decisions. On most days, I could hand wash clothes (even the wool stuff) when I pulled into camp, and have those clothes dry in the sun/wind before I crawled into bed at night. I also had a line strung inside my tent--for a little finish-up drying. One trick I learned from a fellow rider: If your bike shorts are a little damp, sleep with them, and they will be dry by morning!</li>
<li>I don't think I have the right rain gear yet. I only wore my full rain outfit (jacket, hood, and pants) while cycling on one really rainy day. Otherwise, I made do with my windbreaker because it is lighter weight and dries quickly. My rain jacket is too warm when I'm cycling, even with the underarm vents all the way open. My rain pants are too bulky, and they get too warm as well. Not sure what I would substitute in their place. I have done a bunch of research, but I'm not yet sold on a different solution.</li>
<li>I ended up shipping the solar charger home because it became clear that I was not going to use it. I was able to keep enough charge in my phone and backup battery to take pictures and post a blog entry every day, and to use GPS and a position-tracking phone app every day while riding. The backup battery was key because we did stay in a few spots that had limited or no power outlets for charging. Once I rode more than 65 or 70 miles, I had to use the backup battery to add charge to my phone. I should have taken two adapter plugs, though; I only took one, and it meant I could only charge one thing at a time--either the phone or the backup battery--even when I could have been charging both at the same time. (I think it helped that my phone, battery, and chargers were all new; other riders had a lot of difficulty with slow-charging equipment.) Also, the Lifeproof waterproof case I had on my phone meant I could safely use the phone in all conditions and not worry about it drowning.</li>
<li>My tent (a Big Agnes UL2 that has since undergone a design change) was perfect. It packed small, was really quick to set up (I could keep it dry even when setting it up in the rain), and kept me dry even when enough water fell from the sky to create a lake around my tent. I used a set of titanium tent stakes that I purchased years ago and they made setup easy; these stakes never bend, and I can put them in any ground just by stepping on them.</li>
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<li>The ground cloth/footprint (that my son made out of Typar to fit my tent) worked perfectly. It packs a little more bulky than a fabric footprint, but it is far more effective at protecting the tent floor from moisture and abrasion. I used a space blanket as a ground cloth inside the tent; even when the floor of the tent became moist, my gear never did. Space blankets are strong, have multiple uses, and pack up tiny. I'll take more of them with me in the future.</li>
<li>I brought a number of things I never used but would bring again, just in case--swim suit, first aid kit, knee brace, bike tools and spare parts, spare glasses, etc. There were some things I only used once but would bring again--rain covers for shoes, waterproof full-finger gloves, etc.</li>
<li>I was very lucky on this trip--I did not have even one flat tire. (Others had many!) I had spare tubes with me but, at the last minute when packing, I left my spare tire at home. I should have found a way to bring it with me. I was very lucky that I didn't end up needing it. Look at what another rider's tire looked like before he took it off and put on his spare:</li>
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<li style="text-align: left;">I love the sleeping bag I took on this trip! It is a Mountain Hardwear Phantasia 15-Degree Down Women's sleeping bag. My son told me that down sleeping bags had changed a lot since I last experienced them (in the 70s), and he was right. The down in this bag has been treated so it resists absorbing moisture. It packs light and compact, and fluffs up great. Even if it felt slightly damp when I packed it up in the morning, it dried out quickly and never took on a funky smell. I didn't even feel like I had to wash the bag when I got home. I suppose it helped that I used a silk sleeping bag liner the entire trip as well. You might think this bag would be too warm; I mostly used it over me like a blanket, but I was grateful for all that warmth in the below freezing weather we had on the trip. (If you want to buy one of these, look around for a sale; although the MSRP is $500, I bought mine for $350.)</li>
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<li>I had a great sleeping pad. The pad is a Therm-a-Rest Neo Trekker, which I cannot find anywhere. I think they have since changed their designs slightly. It most closely resembles the one below. The pad is a full 27" x 86", which means my sleeping bag, liner, pillow, and I did not ever touch the tent floor while sleeping. This is well worth the few extra puffs of air it takes to fill the thing; it's more comfortable, warmer, and drier than trying to balance on a skimpy pad--especially for a thrash-around sleeper like me. </li>
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<li>I had two pillows with me, and they were well worth it. (At home, I use three pillows, so going with only two was a sacrifice. :-) The first and most important pillow was the Therm-a-Rest compressible pillow. I made a small pillowcase for it so I could feel a cool sheet against my face when sleeping--very important. I washed the pillowcase whenever I did laundry, and I never felt the need to wash the pillow.</li>
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<li style="text-align: left;">The second pillow was actually a staff sack (the Therm-a-Rest Stuff Sack Pillow)--nylon on one side, soft fuzzy fabric on the other. Each night, I turned the fuzzy side out, stuffed my fleece jacket in it, and used it as a pillow I could throw a leg over.</li>
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<li style="text-align: left;">The ear plugs got a lot of use! They helped me sleep through trains, snoring, thunderstorms, etc.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">I like my metal enamelware cup and pots and my titanium spork, but I had to work at keeping them from clanging together when I didn't want to wake people up.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">The poncho I brought as a bike cover worked great--right up until it tore. It packed up really small and was lightweight, and covered the whole bike. What did it in was the ice. The morning we woke up to everything covered with ice (at least the poncho was ice-covered and not my bike!), the poncho tore when I moved it. Thankfully, it was still usable, but I'm looking to replace it with something else that packs as light and small and is made of stronger material.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">I wore this small waist pack the entire trip. I searched high and low for a waist pack this small (9" x 5" x 3") and sturdy. It carried my phone, IDs, money, credit cards, charger cord and adapter, nail scissors, tweezers, glasses-cleaner cloth, Advil, dental floss, pen and paper, ear buds, etc.--everything I wanted secure and close at hand. This pack worked great. In fact, I'm still using it now that I'm home. So far, I have resisted the temptation to use a top-tube bag on my bike instead of the waist pack to carry these things; I think it's more important to have these vital things secured to my body, where they won't ever be separated from me.</li>
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<li style="text-align: left;">I wore a hydration pack as I rode every one of those 1,822 miles. I so appreciated having easy access to water while I was riding that I kept reaffirming to myself that I wanted to carry some water on my back. (I no longer trust myself to use a water bottle while riding without risking injury and/or accident.) Since arriving home, I have ordered a frame pack for my bike and a hydration bottle that I hope will fit in the frame pack. My aim is to end up with the same drinking ease without having to carry anything on my back while I ride.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">The bike shoes I purchased for the trip were a good choice. Yes, I had problems with "hot foot" and numb toes, but I think those things were a function of the number of miles I was riding every day rather than a problem with the shoes. (I have been using them to ride since I have been home and, for shorter distances especially, they feel fine.) The shoes have good walking soles on them but also enough stiffness to provide the extra support feet need on the pedals. They are well vented, and dry quickly when wet. They held up well to the regular soaking they got on the trip as well.</li>
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<li style="text-align: left;">One new purchase since I've been home that will accompany me on rides in the future: Da Brim. I think the added wind resistance is well worth it (after all, I am never going to win any speed records!) to get the added protection from the sun. I was hoping the brim might help keep raindrops off my glasses, but my ride to the polls yesterday to vote (in on-again, off-again rain) dashed those hopes.</li>
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<li style="text-align: left;">Overall, I think I took the right amount of gear. I had the two smallest, lightest-weight bags of all the riders on my trip. (That's because I took the gear guidelines seriously.) I had enough to be comfortable over a long tour, without carrying around a bunch of unnecessary stuff. Given the amount of packing, unpacking, lifting, moving, setting up, breaking down...I would not want to bring any more stuff. One thing I would change: I would use slightly larger bags with the exact same amount of gear. That way, there would be more wiggle room in the bags. As it was, I had to pack everything precisely and then wrestle with the zippers to get the bags closed every morning. Gear seems to expand over time. A little wiggle room would just make the endless packing-up process more pleasant.</li>
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Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-73365886246142878342014-05-26T21:23:00.000-04:002014-06-11T21:43:21.442-04:00The Trip HomeIt felt strange to say goodbye to everyone and scatter to the winds. There was a lot of cleaning and packing and waiting...and then we were saying goodbye as we dropped everyone off. No one flew out on the last day; everyone but me was dropped at a motel. I was dropped off last--to pick up my rental car.<br />
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Since the car was new to me, of course I had to figure out how to operate everything. On top of that, I was speed challenged. For the first several miles, I could not go the speed limit; it just felt too fast. Pretty soon, though, I was ticking along down the New York Thruway, marveling at how I was back in the real world again. The on-and-off torrential rain (so thick at times that I could not see the traffic ahead of me, only the gray swirl of water vapor) somehow seemed appropriate. </div>
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When I left the Thruway, I followed the western shore of Seneca Lake (one of New York's finger lakes) all the way to Ithaca. Such stunning scenery and long hills; that seemed appropriate, too. (Hmm...maybe there will be a Finger Lakes bike tour in my future.) When I realized I was obsessively checking the car's odometer for each upcoming turn, I smiled. I guess it's a good habit; I didn't take any wrong turns. </div>
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My tent--all by its lonesome self. </div>
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It took me all of five minutes to set up my tent. On either side of me, families were setting up camp for the Memorial Day weekend. Hours later, after much pounding of tent stakes and loud debates about various setup options, these families were still setting up. Struck me as excessive and exhausting.<br />
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The next day, I was packed up, showered, and on the road by 7:00am. Well trained by now. Good thing, too, because it happened to be Commencement weekend at my alma mater. I quickly visited some old haunts and then sped out of town before the throngs descended.<br />
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On to East Boston...to spend the night with my sister and niece. Since they hosted me the night before I flew to Mobile to start the tour, it seemed appropriate to spend a night after the tour reconnecting and debriefing. One odd thing: The morning I left, there was a possum sitting on top of a wire fence two doors down from my sister's--for hours--in broad daylight. I saw possums in every state on the tour--mostly dead as roadkill. I think possums and turkey vultures might take over the world--but that's for another post.<br />
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Finally...a day when I knew where I was going, without having to consult any maps or GPS! The driving to Portland, Maine, part went fine. Then, plans went awry. Dale was driving my car (with the bike rack on the roof) to pick me up at the car-rental place--when it died. Yup--electrics gone, power steering gone--dead. It was the alternator. Good thing I have a large support team; Steve drove Dale's truck to retrieve me, my bike, and my gear, and then we retrieved Dale as well. (A few days and over $500 later, I had a working car again.)<br />
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Once home, the gear cleanup and re-entry began. I had a huge box of mail to go through. I had cats to squeeze, and take on walks. While reconnecting with my life, I could let sore body parts heal.<br />
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Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-83460567520584694202014-05-23T08:17:00.001-04:002014-05-31T20:20:45.486-04:00Total Miles Bicycled1,822<br />
on UGRR tour, April 13 - May 23 (and not counting training miles beforehand)Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-64261171480332364042014-05-23T08:12:00.001-04:002014-05-24T21:41:26.623-04:00Niagara Falls on the U.S. SideI woke at 4:30 this morning. I wonder how long it will take to shift my daily schedule. <div><br></div><div>Before things were open or many people were out and about, I rode down to the falls on the U.S. side to take pictures. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-lWRA9hLrHEo/U387GRCFwWI/AAAAAAAAD_A/TJCgVr3WKGI/s640/blogger-image-272394553.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-lWRA9hLrHEo/U387GRCFwWI/AAAAAAAAD_A/TJCgVr3WKGI/s640/blogger-image-272394553.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-yRNmIJisHLI/U387J3LSP2I/AAAAAAAAD_Q/pmzYi_0fARA/s640/blogger-image-287362378.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-yRNmIJisHLI/U387J3LSP2I/AAAAAAAAD_Q/pmzYi_0fARA/s640/blogger-image-287362378.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-CyFLbFqjPZY/U387LGJSnwI/AAAAAAAAD_Y/C_B28sZ26Yo/s640/blogger-image--560653322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-CyFLbFqjPZY/U387LGJSnwI/AAAAAAAAD_Y/C_B28sZ26Yo/s640/blogger-image--560653322.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--asvn4G5kio/U387IOysEiI/AAAAAAAAD_I/woXdhDE2jJQ/s640/blogger-image-1143967592.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--asvn4G5kio/U387IOysEiI/AAAAAAAAD_I/woXdhDE2jJQ/s640/blogger-image-1143967592.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-p-MNBFJhaqw/U387-RCEgMI/AAAAAAAAD_g/X_m5kDWX7m8/s640/blogger-image--574103898.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-p-MNBFJhaqw/U387-RCEgMI/AAAAAAAAD_g/X_m5kDWX7m8/s640/blogger-image--574103898.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_ectbjvufgo/U388CencJrI/AAAAAAAAD_4/oRok2SwUSeo/s640/blogger-image--1835799136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_ectbjvufgo/U388CencJrI/AAAAAAAAD_4/oRok2SwUSeo/s640/blogger-image--1835799136.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-1OGOWS21Lfk/U387_70zQsI/AAAAAAAAD_o/Di_dphkaPHE/s640/blogger-image--1923030068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-1OGOWS21Lfk/U387_70zQsI/AAAAAAAAD_o/Di_dphkaPHE/s640/blogger-image--1923030068.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-D8opGYjRC0A/U388BBJZBMI/AAAAAAAAD_w/wZRFh_vcz-c/s640/blogger-image--1220592110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-D8opGYjRC0A/U388BBJZBMI/AAAAAAAAD_w/wZRFh_vcz-c/s640/blogger-image--1220592110.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-lNcjzW4HGAk/U388EXBhdyI/AAAAAAAAEAA/zBQvtklmwPQ/s640/blogger-image--1778874915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-lNcjzW4HGAk/U388EXBhdyI/AAAAAAAAEAA/zBQvtklmwPQ/s640/blogger-image--1778874915.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I rode a whopping 2.5 miles today. Later today, I pick up a rental car and start to head home. </div><div><br></div><div>I'll write some final, wrap-up posts after I'm home. </div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-40365578645912432692014-05-22T16:13:00.001-04:002014-06-12T15:17:09.664-04:00Done! Reached Canada and Niagara Falls (Day 40)<div>
Okay, so technically this trip does not end until noon tomorrow, but I feel done as far as the riding goes. </div>
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We had route options today. We could ride completely in the United States, or we could cross into Canada for a bunch of the riding (and a few extra miles). In both cases we would end up in Niagara Falls, New York, for the night. </div>
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Even though I am tired and we've done a lot of miles this last week, I chose to do the Canadian route. It looked a lot more interesting than the route through New York, and it looked like it would have far less traffic. It seemed like something I should not miss. </div>
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The day started out sunny, but quickly changed to overcast. Once again, there were great shore views of Lake Erie. </div>
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When I got to Buffalo, I took a detour off the regular route to visit a couple of sites with UGRR significance. Below is the Michigan Street Baptist Church. </div>
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In 1816, Buffalo had a population of 400. Sixteen of those residents were black, and nine of those were slaves. The congregation of the Michigan Street Baptist Church formed in 1836; the church building was completed in 1849. This building is the oldest building in Buffalo built and continuously owned and occupied by the city's black residents. I especially liked the building's windows, so I took this shot of the side as well. </div>
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This is how the building looked in 1900:</div>
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The church's congregation openly and boldly participated in antislavery activities. Before the Civil War, escaping slaves were hidden in the basement until it was safe to help them escape to freedom in Canada. Apparently the areas in the basement where escaping slaves were concealed are still visible today. I wouldn't know; I did not get to go inside the church. </div>
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Next to the church is a plaque honoring Mary Talbert (1866-1923):</div>
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Talbert graduated from Oberlin College, was an active member of the Michigan Street Baptist Church, and was an anti-lynching activist. Talbert was the sixth president of the National Association of Colored Women, inducted into the National Women's Hall of Fame, and was the first African American woman to earn the prestigious NAACP Spingarn Award. </div>
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Behind the Michigan Street Baptist Church is a walkway with benches and informational plaques that leads to the Nash House. </div>
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This was the home of Reverend J. Edward Nash, his wife, and child. Nash's parents had been born as slaves. At the age of 24, Nash became the pastor of the Michigan Street Baptist Church and served as its pastor for 61 years (1892-1953). Nash and the church were actively involved with Civil Rights advocacy and action throughout their histories. </div>
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The home is a treasure trove of Nash's personal writings and the family's furnishings and household items. </div>
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While Talbert and Nash were not directly related to the UGRR, they were such key figures in improving the quality of life for African Americans in the decades following the Civil War, I thought I'd include mention of them. </div>
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When I left the Nash House to make my way back on route, I noticed this building in the distance. It looks like it has two Statues of Liberty on its roof. </div>
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Right after taking the picture above, dense fog rolled in. I was cycling on a bike path on the Buffalo side of the Niagara River, but the visibility wasn't great. </div>
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Crossing the Peace Bridge to Canada with Tony...</div>
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The cycling on the Canada side was great! Interesting residential homes on the left, the Niagara River on the right. We made use of a handy picnic table to eat our lunch. </div>
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The approach to Niagara Falls became ever more dramatic, starting with views of the rising mist. At this point, we were on a spectacular bike trail that closely follows the water and has its own bridges and boardwalks. </div>
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Does anyone know what this is? We saw two of them. They're huge. Maybe they have something to do with power generation?</div>
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More shots approaching the falls...</div>
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There is a "stranded skow" out there. </div>
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The <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"stranded skow" is also visible below. </span></div>
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In the photo below, a huge tour boat full of people all dressed in blue and green mist ponchos, is sitting at the base of the falls. </div>
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Below is the view of the falls from the Rainbow Bridge, crossing back into the United States. </div>
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Today's route, part 1:</div>
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Part 2. The jog in my path at miles 37-38 is the Michigan Ave spur I took to the Michigan Street Baptist Church and Nash House. The jog after mile 42 was me getting turned around and then back on track. </div>
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Part 3:</div>
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Tonight we are staying at the Wanderfalls Hostel in Niagara Falls, New York. We had our celebratory supper out:</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[photo credit: Barb Ward]</span></div>
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Tomorrow we are free in the morning to explore the falls some more before we say our goodbyes and begin to scatter...</div>
Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-57254923364005260102014-05-21T15:43:00.001-04:002014-06-12T15:32:13.319-04:00Experiment: How Wet Can I Possibly Get? (Day 39)The thunderstorms last night were so continuous and drenching and, well, thunderous, that I was awake on and off all night long. At one point, there was a bright flash followed immediately, without hesitation, by a thunderclap that had me jumping off the ground; that one was definitely directly overhead.<br />
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Thankfully, I stayed dry inside my tent. Packing up was a challenge, but I took advantage of the one break in the rain to get my dry stuff packed into the trailer and my sopping-wet tent taken down. </div>
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Less than a mile into today's ride, the weather went from regular rain to a drenching, down-pouring thunderstorm. I was soaked through and through almost immediately--no preventing that--but I realized it was not safe to be on the road. Drivers would not be able to see me with the sheets of rain coming down, and there were moments I was the tallest thing in my immediate vicinity while lightning was striking. Up ahead, I saw a small, unused shack with a covered front porch. "Ah ha!" I thought, "A perfect place to wait out the worst of this." I waded through ankle-deep, standing water to get on the porch, only to discover that the boards serving as a "roof" for the porch had half-inch gaps between them and water was gushing down through them. I did wait out the heaviest rain on that porch, but I was definitely not sheltered from the rain. It turned out that this is the only day of the trip so far that I wore my rain jacket and rain pants--and I kept both on for the entire ride. </div>
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We rode through some pretty towns today (like Barcelona and Van Buren Point), with sweeping views of the lake. Photos were out of the question for much of the day; it was too wet and dark. </div>
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I rode 51 miles today, with 1,299 feet of climbing. 4.75 hours on the road. </div>
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Today's route, part 1:</div>
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Part 2:</div>
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Part 3:</div>
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Most of the creeks we crossed today were gushing and churning and overflowing--rapidly sending agricultural runoff from the vineyards to Lake Erie--but that was early in the day when I wasn't taking pictures. This is a much calmer tributary, in Silver Creek, that I thought was dramatic for its steep, straight wall along the left side. (I realize they're all looking the same at this point.)</div>
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When I got to Lake Erie Beach, the sun was trying to come out. </div>
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I got to the motel where we are staying tonight (Angola Motel, Angola, NY) early enough to clean my bike and dry out my wet gear. Just in time; more rain expected tonight and tomorrow--for our ride through Buffalo to Niagara Falls!<br />
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A bunch of gear drying out at the motel.<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[photo credit: Barb Wade]</span></div>
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Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-41625020011767925482014-05-20T15:59:00.001-04:002014-06-12T15:46:37.030-04:00Three States & Wine Country (Day 38)I cycled 71.4 miles today, with 1,667 feet of climbing. 6.75 hours on the road.<br />
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The day started a little warmer than yesterday (at least there wasn't ice on everything), but we knew rain was on its way and we had a lot of miles to go--so I tried to keep booking along. </div>
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Views of Lake Erie the whole way.</div>
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We did not see any specific examples, but we heard stories that there are homes in Conneaut (pronounced con-oh-it) that have tunnels out of their basements--that lead to the lake or to other homes. Escaping slaves had a lake crossing as their final step on the road to freedom in Canada. As I rode along the lake today, I thought about the courage and fortitude it took to flee to Canada. Lake Erie looks like an ocean. I would think that any escaped slave who had crossed the Atlantic in the hold of a ship would panic at the thought of crossing this lake and at the thought of placing their trust and lives in the hands of others to do the crossing. </div>
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I began the day in Ohio, then crossed into Pennsylvania. </div>
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I did not know until today that there is Lake Erie Wine Country. </div>
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Even though Pennsylvania is a large state, we left it and crossed into New York at the end of our ride today. :-)</div>
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It's all in where you cross, I guess.</div>
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We are camping at Lakeside Campground just over the Pennsylvania/New York border tonight. </div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[photo credit: Barb Wade]</span></div>
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This campground is right on Lake Erie. I briefly considered going for a swim, but nixed that idea pretty quick. It's a good thing, too; it's raining now and the temperature has plummeted. </div>
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Today's route, part 1:</div>
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Part 2:</div>
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Part 3:</div>
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Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-14350023214929320102014-05-19T16:52:00.001-04:002014-06-12T15:40:25.752-04:00Icy Start, Sunny End (Day 37)I cycled 69.4 miles today, with 2,238 feet of climbing. 7.25 hours on the road.<br />
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When we got up this morning, everything was covered with ice. </div>
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Including the tents and the bikes that hadn't been covered.<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[photo credit: Barb Wade]</span></div>
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Packing up was a drag; all that ice-covered stuff got shoved in gear bags to be hauled to the next spot. </div>
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I felt like a slug today. Yesterday, I had felt strong--maybe due to the day off the day before. I struggled today, but I just kept pedaling anyway. </div>
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Zoe with her husband, Ron, (and their tandem bike) at a rest stop early in the day:</div>
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More beautiful countryside today. Great cycling weather--cool and sunny. </div>
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A little over 30 miles into our ride, all the laundry hanging out indicated the we were back in Amish country. Notice how their clothes are all standard colors, unlike the clothes of us "English."</div>
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Also notice the unique wear pattern in the road--from the shoes on the horses that pull the carts. Some roads were completely torn up along this track. </div>
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One of the Amish carts--when no one was around. </div>
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I saw so many Amish people outside today: a couple in a horse-drawn cart headed the other way, a man driving a horse-drawn wagon full of children and ducks (I so wanted a picture of that!), a harness shop, a sawmill being run by a man and two young boys, a couple of women and children pulling wagons of plants, various children doing chores (raking, mowing, etc.), lots of women hanging laundry to dry (Monday must be laundry day); in addition to a logging supply shop and a couple of woodsmith and carpentry shops. Every Amish person I passed gave me a smile, a wave, and a "hello." I also saw an Amish man running a gas-powered weed-wacker, and another one checking his mailbox for mail, which reminded me not to make assumptions. </div>
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I stopped in Windsor, Ohio, for a lunch break. I forgot to get a picture of the little park I was in, but I did take this. I wonder if my apple trees at home are in bloom yet. </div>
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After lunch, I was on a long, straight, very-rough road for about eight miles. There was nothing to see along it, and the extreme vibration was making all my sore parts miserable. Thought I was going to lose my mind!</div>
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Thankfully, we finished today's ride with 14 or so miles on the Western Reserve Greenway Trail, which is both scenic and mostly flat. </div>
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At some of the street crossings, there were UGRR informational signs posted on the trail. Here are some interesting bits:</div>
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Tonight we are camping at Hide-a-Way Lakes Campground, north of Austinburg. </div>
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Today's route, part 1:</div>
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Part 2:</div>
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Part 3. Can you tell we are getting close to Lake Erie?</div>
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Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-31368811452947881652014-05-18T15:36:00.001-04:002014-05-18T20:25:58.640-04:00To Streetsboro, Ohio: May 18 (Day 36)<div>Today I cycled 60.3 miles with 2,093 feet of climbing. 6.5 hours on the road. </div><div><br></div><div>The day started cold (I had frozen eyeballs!) but at least it wasn't raining! It turned into a beautiful cycling day--sunny and cool. More picturesque countryside. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HJoH4ftFi00/U3kLeO2ddTI/AAAAAAAADwU/VDTQA5Haozw/s640/blogger-image-1777261940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HJoH4ftFi00/U3kLeO2ddTI/AAAAAAAADwU/VDTQA5Haozw/s640/blogger-image-1777261940.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OOwHmIDtAO4/U3kLb0mVNUI/AAAAAAAADwM/E17Iug3fJXI/s640/blogger-image--910755656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-OOwHmIDtAO4/U3kLb0mVNUI/AAAAAAAADwM/E17Iug3fJXI/s640/blogger-image--910755656.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-hhiaLcuBiDQ/U3kLnq-54hI/AAAAAAAADwc/v3VI3m2dmps/s640/blogger-image-1529046594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-hhiaLcuBiDQ/U3kLnq-54hI/AAAAAAAADwc/v3VI3m2dmps/s640/blogger-image-1529046594.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I took a snack break on a bench in the town square in Medina. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZI9nndOQ1oQ/U3kLaHoFIhI/AAAAAAAADwE/dpLl2j6lJ9M/s640/blogger-image-764635075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZI9nndOQ1oQ/U3kLaHoFIhI/AAAAAAAADwE/dpLl2j6lJ9M/s640/blogger-image-764635075.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Here is the view I had from my bench:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Tq78uoSTo08/U3kLW9IAUzI/AAAAAAAADv8/ohsWUo17XRg/s640/blogger-image--201033815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Tq78uoSTo08/U3kLW9IAUzI/AAAAAAAADv8/ohsWUo17XRg/s640/blogger-image--201033815.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Our route included crossing the Everett Road Covered Bridge. (Ohio had over 2,000 covered bridges back in the 1800s. This particular bridge was reconstructed in 1986 after the original was ruined by a storm in 1975. It is the only remaining covered bridge in Summit County.) I had to walk around some barricades to get here because the road leading to the bridge was closed to traffic. (A number of roads in this county have severe erosion issues due to the recent heavy rain storms.)</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-lGwJ8urg0xk/U3kMHF_QFsI/AAAAAAAADws/uwVOJF7Ec24/s640/blogger-image-909670046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-lGwJ8urg0xk/U3kMHF_QFsI/AAAAAAAADws/uwVOJF7Ec24/s640/blogger-image-909670046.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-QCi6_-Btwgo/U3kL9cIqEUI/AAAAAAAADwk/72KJcdmcg5U/s640/blogger-image--1528549260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-QCi6_-Btwgo/U3kL9cIqEUI/AAAAAAAADwk/72KJcdmcg5U/s640/blogger-image--1528549260.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-m7__Mxc01B0/U3kMPKuZUAI/AAAAAAAADw8/x3w1pC8rYUw/s640/blogger-image-1934531125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-m7__Mxc01B0/U3kMPKuZUAI/AAAAAAAADw8/x3w1pC8rYUw/s640/blogger-image-1934531125.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UGcXbv19Tic/U3kMMfN8-EI/AAAAAAAADw0/6VXM299iS70/s640/blogger-image--307856134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UGcXbv19Tic/U3kMMfN8-EI/AAAAAAAADw0/6VXM299iS70/s640/blogger-image--307856134.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I also cycled a short section (three or so miles) of the Ohio & Erie Canal towpath. It was hard packed gravel, so easy to ride on. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-5XHMRMYs_8w/U3kMobEK6eI/AAAAAAAADxE/dbUc2CsePjU/s640/blogger-image-1656316391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-5XHMRMYs_8w/U3kMobEK6eI/AAAAAAAADxE/dbUc2CsePjU/s640/blogger-image-1656316391.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U8xh6S8tNlw/U3kMr086hVI/AAAAAAAADxM/peKDZGKVJmI/s640/blogger-image-1861212852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U8xh6S8tNlw/U3kMr086hVI/AAAAAAAADxM/peKDZGKVJmI/s640/blogger-image-1861212852.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-q9r8iQMZgcc/U3kMvxAM2TI/AAAAAAAADxc/uygIGWkW1N8/s640/blogger-image-1981513488.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-q9r8iQMZgcc/U3kMvxAM2TI/AAAAAAAADxc/uygIGWkW1N8/s640/blogger-image-1981513488.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--TUZtazA8Jg/U3kMtvN0jtI/AAAAAAAADxQ/wofNL-o8zxI/s640/blogger-image-407430289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--TUZtazA8Jg/U3kMtvN0jtI/AAAAAAAADxQ/wofNL-o8zxI/s640/blogger-image-407430289.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Along the towpath are some no-longer-used locks. Once known as Lock 27, the lock below became known as Johnnycake Lock because a flood in 1828 pushed silt into the canal and caused several boats to run aground. Stranded passengers only had cornmeal pancakes (johnnycakes) to eat when supplies ran low. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-BElHeiivoY0/U3kNM0GjFuI/AAAAAAAADx0/AqPXKcLMvcE/s640/blogger-image-1639249823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-BElHeiivoY0/U3kNM0GjFuI/AAAAAAAADx0/AqPXKcLMvcE/s640/blogger-image-1639249823.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Lock 28, also known as Deep Lock, could lift a boat 17 feet, the highest of any lock on the Ohio & Erie Canal. Most locks had about a 9-foot lift. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rr4yo3olScA/U3kNLCTGQjI/AAAAAAAADxs/jZ5Ih7vfXic/s640/blogger-image-558579185.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-rr4yo3olScA/U3kNLCTGQjI/AAAAAAAADxs/jZ5Ih7vfXic/s640/blogger-image-558579185.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-l4mYixgXG_k/U3kNJymfIJI/AAAAAAAADxk/MW9r6nVZ9eE/s640/blogger-image-16045727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-l4mYixgXG_k/U3kNJymfIJI/AAAAAAAADxk/MW9r6nVZ9eE/s640/blogger-image-16045727.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I guess it's not too obvious from this photo, but this is the one short section of the towpath that I had to walk due to erosion damage. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ocVX9OUNKKY/U3kNRZsnbmI/AAAAAAAADx8/JRWX6kGpZks/s640/blogger-image-1928438771.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ocVX9OUNKKY/U3kNRZsnbmI/AAAAAAAADx8/JRWX6kGpZks/s640/blogger-image-1928438771.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Crossing the Cuyahoga River...</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1Ozxybff-Qk/U3kNxDbNlXI/AAAAAAAADyM/y5CvyqFdl5w/s640/blogger-image--149823744.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-1Ozxybff-Qk/U3kNxDbNlXI/AAAAAAAADyM/y5CvyqFdl5w/s640/blogger-image--149823744.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Wouldn't it be nice if all busy roads had bike lanes like this?</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-7lE05yyLsKY/U3kN_3RgUWI/AAAAAAAADyU/u1dLCNDGY0c/s640/blogger-image-549632485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-7lE05yyLsKY/U3kN_3RgUWI/AAAAAAAADyU/u1dLCNDGY0c/s640/blogger-image-549632485.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Tonight we are camping at the Streetsboro KOA campground in Streetsboro, Ohio. </div><div><br></div><div>Today's route, part 1:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-SVqLT3Trvw0/U3kOklk0f8I/AAAAAAAADyk/8wfExTdFMQE/s640/blogger-image-380233029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-SVqLT3Trvw0/U3kOklk0f8I/AAAAAAAADyk/8wfExTdFMQE/s640/blogger-image-380233029.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Part 2:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-I_-AQrjHL6s/U3kOihp6JjI/AAAAAAAADyc/vkNwD1IZegk/s640/blogger-image--1402587582.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-I_-AQrjHL6s/U3kOihp6JjI/AAAAAAAADyc/vkNwD1IZegk/s640/blogger-image--1402587582.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Part 3:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-NYgOHuPTxwk/U3kOnJaz1oI/AAAAAAAADys/yAiSXGJe1Y0/s640/blogger-image-1169456794.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-NYgOHuPTxwk/U3kOnJaz1oI/AAAAAAAADys/yAiSXGJe1Y0/s640/blogger-image-1169456794.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-53242743448634044972014-05-17T08:55:00.001-04:002014-06-12T15:26:57.705-04:00Oberlin's UGRR History<div>
Oberlin, Ohio, founded in 1833, openly defied the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 that required cooperation with bounty hunters and slaveholders who were hunting down fugitive slaves. Although many fugitive slaves felt they had to go to Canada to be safe from recapture, others felt safe in Oberlin and lived the rest of their lives here. The abolitionist faction in town was so strong and effective, no escaped slaves were ever successfully caught in Oberlin and returned to slavery. </div>
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Oberlin College is intricately embedded in the town. Instead of being cloistered to the side with its own set of quads and buildings, the college buildings are sprinkled around the town, centered on the town square. Students and faculty at the college were active in the anti-slavery movement. Oberlin College began admitting African-American students in 1835, and began admitting women students in 1841. The first black woman to receive a college degree in the United States, Mary Jane Patterson (below), received her BA from Oberlin College in 1862. </div>
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I beat the rain this morning, getting out early to walk most of the "African-American Heritage Tour: Driving Guide to Oberlin." Yes, I could have ridden my bike and done the whole thing, but I'm trying to give my body a break from cycling today. After doing the self-guided tour and as the rain started up again, I took my bike to a bike shop to have new brake pads installed (when riding through the torrential rain a couple of days ago, I could tell I was burning through the pads) while I took a tour with a guide from the Oberlin Heritage Center. </div>
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The Oberlin Anti-Slavery Society met In First Church (below), built in 1842. This church is also where the funeral was held for Lee Howard Dobbins, the four-year-old fugitive slave buried in Oberlin. (Dobbins' mother died in slavery. He was escaping to Canada with his adoptive mother when he became gravely ill with tuberculosis. With Dobbins' father, the slave owner, chasing them, the adoptive mother fled with several other children, leaving Dobbins with a family in Oberlin. When he died several days later, 1,000 people attended the memorial service.) The church was also the site of a memorial service for participants in John Brown's raid on Harpers Ferry. </div>
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The Martin Luther King, Jr. Park has three monuments. I thought this one for MLK was interesting because of how his likeness is created out of brick. </div>
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In September 1858, John Price, a 17-year-old former slave who had been living free in Oberlin for two years, was captured by federal marshals and whisked away to Wellington (on route to his former master). Abolitionists from Oberlin and Wellington rushed to the scene to get Price released. When the marshals would not relent, Price was rescued surreptitiously by residents, hidden in the Oberlin home of James Fairchild (who later became president of Oberlin College), and later fled to Canada. The monument below commemorates the 20 Oberlin residents who were jailed for rescuing John Price. "Oberlin Wellington Rescue--In the spring of 1859, twenty Oberlinians went to jail for the crime of rescuing John Price from slavery. With their comrades in the abolition cause, they kindled hopes of freedom for us all."</div>
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The third monument in the MLK park memorializes three Oberlin men who died with John Brown during or as a result of his raid at Harpers Ferry, Virginia, in October 1859. (John Brown, a white abolitionist, hoped that slaves would rise up and revolt in great numbers after he and his volunteer group seized a U.S. armory. Word did not spread to the slaves as Brown had hoped, so no revolt occurred. Brown's group was defeated by Robert E. Lee and U.S. Marines.) Each side of the monument (below) honors a different man but, the stone has eroded so much, the engravings are difficult to read. </div>
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The three Oberlin men who died at Harpers Ferry were: Shields Green, an escaped slave from South Carolina, who was hanged after the incident; Lewis Sheridan Leary (below), a 24-year-old free black harness maker, who was killed trying to escape capture by crossing the Shenandoah River; </div>
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and John Anthony Copeland (below), a 25-year-old free black carpenter, who was hanged after the incident. Before he was hanged, Copeland said, "If I am dying for freedom, I could not die for a better cause, I had rather die than be a slave!" Leary and Copeland had both previously participated in the Oberlin Wellington Slave Rescue. </div>
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Below is the former home of Wilson Bruce Evans, a cabinetmaker, undertaker, abolitionist, and prominent black leader in antebellum years. He took part in the Oberlin Wellington Slave Rescue (he is fifth from the left on the rescuers monument), and he served one year in the army during the Civil War. He was a brother-in-law to Lewis Sheridan Leary. </div>
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The home below was built in 1847 and once was home to Chauncey Wack, who served as a witness <i>against</i> the rescuers who saved John Price during the Oberlin Wellington Slave Rescue. </div>
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James Monroe, an instructor of rhetoric, political science, and international law at Oberlin College and Congressman, once lived in the home below. He was an ardent abolitionist. At the request of John Copeland's mother, Monroe tried to retrieve Copeland's body for burial in Oberlin after the Harpers Ferry raid; he was unsuccessful. </div>
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The Jewett House, below, was built in 1884, and was home to Frank Fanning Jewett, chemistry professor at Oberlin College, and his wife Frances Gulick Jewett, author of many health books. Charles Martin Hall, a student of Jewett's, developed the process for manufacturing aluminum. (A good portion of the fortune that Hall earned as founder of ALCOA was left to Oberlin College.)</div>
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The inside of the Jewett House is well-preserved and is furnished with period pieces. Check out the woodwork...</div>
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and hinges...</div>
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and stained glass. </div>
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The kitchen had modern appliances for its time, including stove, ovens, and washing machine. </div>
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Below are the guide, Ann; and Ric and Nora, fellow tour riders. </div>
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In the back left corner is an ice box. An "iron" is in the right foreground (I can't remember its official name); it was heated up and used to press sheets and other linens. </div>
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This bicycle has wooden wheels. It also has a wooden chain guard; I could use one of those to keep chain grease off my legs!</div>
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The clothes below were a woman's bathing outfit. </div>
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The schoolhouse below, built in 1836, was only used for about ten years because the town quickly outgrew it. The motto of Oberlin College is "Learning and Labor." The whole town placed high value on education for all.</div>
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Below is the Underground Railroad Monument located outside of Talcott Hall on campus. It was originally built as a study on the horizon. It was purchased by the college as a monument to the Underground Railroad. (Before I began this trip, I was asked by someone if I was going to bicycle the whole way underground. I guess I could use this photo to show that we emerged into the daylight in Oberlin!)</div>
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I like the name of this church: Peace Community Church. </div>
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I like the architecture of the next two buildings. </div>
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Ric and Nora playin' the piano!</div>
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I just love springtime in full bloom! When it is overcast, colors can appear more vibrant:</div>
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Lilacs!</div>
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Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-16895738444572687772014-05-16T15:51:00.001-04:002014-05-16T21:30:54.728-04:00Amish Country to Oberlin: May 16 (Day 34)Today I cycled 68.7 miles with 2,480 feet of climbing. 7 hours on the road. <div><br></div><div>We did not have a map that covered the first 12 or so miles because we'd gone off route to get last night's motel rooms; we only had turn-by-turn directions, and they did not match exactly with what we found out on the road. You can see that I was a bit confused about connecting back on route (see miles 13-14) but, with a little backtracking, I got myself straightened out. <div><br></div><div>Today's route, part 1:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-w1tNG2G8NIQ/U3ZsGIjjNLI/AAAAAAAADqc/PPtEE6AoDQw/s640/blogger-image-810657206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-w1tNG2G8NIQ/U3ZsGIjjNLI/AAAAAAAADqc/PPtEE6AoDQw/s640/blogger-image-810657206.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Part 2:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_Za0QjS_txo/U3ZsNShpbtI/AAAAAAAADqk/IHhP17Zmhs8/s640/blogger-image-1369137913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_Za0QjS_txo/U3ZsNShpbtI/AAAAAAAADqk/IHhP17Zmhs8/s640/blogger-image-1369137913.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Part 3:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-6et2UUywAf8/U3ZsQkVY3ZI/AAAAAAAADqs/sK7WVG08klI/s640/blogger-image-834448057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-6et2UUywAf8/U3ZsQkVY3ZI/AAAAAAAADqs/sK7WVG08klI/s640/blogger-image-834448057.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>No rain today! It was cold, though (high 40s to low 50s). I ended up taking off my hat and full-finger gloves, but there were moments when I second-guessed that decision. Never did take off my arm warmers, windbreaker, or leg warmers. I'm not complaining; I would rather ride in cool weather than really hot weather. </div><div><br></div><div>Beautiful countryside today. We went through an area with many Amish farms. I saw Amish men using a horse and buggy, working fields with horses, running a sawmill, building a cinder block foundation, and mending a fence. There were two fields with many Amish women bent over planting. I saw a number of Amish children as well. I startled one young boy who was walking beside the road, head bent over some papers, fervently talking to himself (memorizing schoolwork or scripture?). I didn't take any pictures through this area, though I was tempted. I did not want to invade anyone's privacy. Mental pictures only. </div><div><br></div><div>I should have taken a picture of the pig; I doubt she would have been offended. I didn't see this enormous pig leaning against a fence by the road until my approach startled her. She jumped, which made me jump. </div><div><br></div><div>Through a few states now, we've seen many houses and barns with quilt squares hanging on them. Here's my one representative example:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U3NgwqlB9NA/U3Zwps8yTkI/AAAAAAAADrA/Ubppyj4O4Ag/s640/blogger-image--1967804359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U3NgwqlB9NA/U3Zwps8yTkI/AAAAAAAADrA/Ubppyj4O4Ag/s640/blogger-image--1967804359.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Nice rolling hills. Some steep ones, but mostly short enough that the running start from the downhill before helped out. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-OlHllECJ4BI/U3ZwscWhUoI/AAAAAAAADrI/HWvftQpuV2A/s640/blogger-image-1877846877.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-OlHllECJ4BI/U3ZwscWhUoI/AAAAAAAADrI/HWvftQpuV2A/s640/blogger-image-1877846877.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-tW3azeOPZOQ/U3ZwlQEUM7I/AAAAAAAADq4/P1FXpEUk6-U/s640/blogger-image-621116655.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-tW3azeOPZOQ/U3ZwlQEUM7I/AAAAAAAADq4/P1FXpEUk6-U/s640/blogger-image-621116655.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Tonight and tomorrow night we're at the Oberlin Inn. Two nights in one spot--yippee! This gives us tomorrow to explore the UGRR history of Oberlin, Ohio. </div></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-67998288651189929262014-05-15T15:30:00.001-04:002014-05-15T15:54:38.815-04:00May 15 (Day 33): Rain! Rain! Rain!It rained all last night as we stayed dry in the campground pavillion. Since it looked like it was going to be a wet day, our new leader suggested we modify the prescribed route to take advantage of a 5.5 mile bike trail and then stay in a Super 8 Motel for the night. No argument from us!<div><br></div><div>As I rode today, the weather cycled from drizzle to rain to monsoon, over and over. I don't think I have ever ridden through so much rain before. I was soaked through and through. Started getting cold, too; temps in the low 50s today. One of the heaviest downpours occurred when I was on the bike trail. I guess that was a good thing; I could not see (between the water running through my eyes and the fog and spots on my glasses), and I doubt cars would have seen me easily if I had been on the road. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-n4AAi7YHCyc/U3UWDgYbCqI/AAAAAAAADpk/P8_PNS7pTWI/s640/blogger-image-1746143066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-n4AAi7YHCyc/U3UWDgYbCqI/AAAAAAAADpk/P8_PNS7pTWI/s640/blogger-image-1746143066.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tLO1mFLiE-k/U3UWKdVYloI/AAAAAAAADps/HMVUkfKnXRw/s640/blogger-image-616882015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tLO1mFLiE-k/U3UWKdVYloI/AAAAAAAADps/HMVUkfKnXRw/s640/blogger-image-616882015.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ipLqZ7Gxzy8/U3UWNizUMtI/AAAAAAAADp0/8RwaqYG9xL0/s640/blogger-image--1006022349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ipLqZ7Gxzy8/U3UWNizUMtI/AAAAAAAADp0/8RwaqYG9xL0/s640/blogger-image--1006022349.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I cycled 39.2 miles today, with 1,299 feet of climbing. 3.75 hours on the road. (I was making a beeline for the hot shower; I barely stopped.)</div><div><br></div><div>Today's route, part 1:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-zMHNvjoN5zA/U3UXZnqZhoI/AAAAAAAADp8/ahckg89VdsE/s640/blogger-image-160813247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-zMHNvjoN5zA/U3UXZnqZhoI/AAAAAAAADp8/ahckg89VdsE/s640/blogger-image-160813247.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Part 2:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2XeY2WMEybQ/U3UXcrhZZjI/AAAAAAAADqE/twmxkVRmttA/s640/blogger-image--1669886731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2XeY2WMEybQ/U3UXcrhZZjI/AAAAAAAADqE/twmxkVRmttA/s640/blogger-image--1669886731.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Part 3:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-92C0esYDGqI/U3UXgz0hUoI/AAAAAAAADqM/titGtFpgM8Q/s640/blogger-image--261625236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-92C0esYDGqI/U3UXgz0hUoI/AAAAAAAADqM/titGtFpgM8Q/s640/blogger-image--261625236.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>It sure felt good to get warm and dry in the motel. </div><div><br></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-56011626156514101512014-05-15T15:15:00.001-04:002014-05-15T15:17:22.644-04:00Front Page NewsOn May 14, the Madison Press put a picture of some of us on the front cover. <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-t39iad9cFDE/U3USQcUyKcI/AAAAAAAADpU/l0ZcMhhiHmc/s640/blogger-image--1620862370.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-t39iad9cFDE/U3USQcUyKcI/AAAAAAAADpU/l0ZcMhhiHmc/s640/blogger-image--1620862370.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Cyclists Ride Underground Railroad</div></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-P-C2zStTrnA/U3USYdmyqYI/AAAAAAAADpc/cHEgmO5usTU/s640/blogger-image--1201411181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-P-C2zStTrnA/U3USYdmyqYI/AAAAAAAADpc/cHEgmO5usTU/s640/blogger-image--1201411181.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>Caption: "An Adventure Cycling group of bicyclists stopped in London for the night on Tuesday, May 13. They have been riding the path runaway slaves took in the 1860s called the Underground Railroad. They will cover the 1,800-mile trip in 41 days. The cyclists said they have enjoyed the Ohio bike trails, which were described as "to die for." In addition to the cycling, they're enjoying the historical aspect of the tour. From left: Bob Lawrence, Sandusky, Ohio; Jan Brackett, Gardiner, Maine; Monica Jenicek, Nora Shew, Frederic Wilson, all of Anchorage, Alaska; Ron Smoak, Spartanburg, S.C.; and Tony Rock, Brooklyn, N.Y."</div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-74560862973334865192014-05-14T17:36:00.001-04:002014-05-15T15:04:20.370-04:00Riding Through ThunderstormsWe had rip roaring thunder showers starting at 4:00am, so we packed up wet tents this morning. <div><br></div><div>By the time we were riding, it wasn't raining but it was heavily overcast. <br><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-LBgeZa9o8CI/U3PhsjfPjqI/AAAAAAAADns/bAg58vdY_Qs/s640/blogger-image-1139659917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-LBgeZa9o8CI/U3PhsjfPjqI/AAAAAAAADns/bAg58vdY_Qs/s640/blogger-image-1139659917.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-3msvWV-e9T0/U3PhxISOL_I/AAAAAAAADn0/zKs97150328/s640/blogger-image-1271002229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-3msvWV-e9T0/U3PhxISOL_I/AAAAAAAADn0/zKs97150328/s640/blogger-image-1271002229.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>We began on the trail system again. I saw at least 15 rabbits along the trail this morning--boinging all over the place. </div><div><br></div><div>Here's a typical rest spot along the trail:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2qj7Hq4PhSI/U3Phmi3Pl8I/AAAAAAAADnk/a5e9NpJWdbo/s640/blogger-image-148177237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2qj7Hq4PhSI/U3Phmi3Pl8I/AAAAAAAADnk/a5e9NpJWdbo/s640/blogger-image-148177237.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">After 6.5 miles on the trail, we were back on roads for the rest of the day. More varied scenery, but back to watching traffic, climbing hills, and carefully navigating lots of turns. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div>I have to remind myself sometimes that the states we're passing through are not all pastoral small towns. Passing over a busy highway reminds me that there is hustle and bustle here too--even if I'm mostly avoiding it. Here is the empty road I was on...</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-_JZzX7xd8u0/U3PhhACYK3I/AAAAAAAADnc/bXHl1Z7SV-M/s640/blogger-image-1631768302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-_JZzX7xd8u0/U3PhhACYK3I/AAAAAAAADnc/bXHl1Z7SV-M/s640/blogger-image-1631768302.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>when I passed over this busy, loud highway:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eSvVd373qa0/U3PiQnxlyVI/AAAAAAAADoc/cMDnKWH94Ro/s640/blogger-image-2133844086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eSvVd373qa0/U3PiQnxlyVI/AAAAAAAADoc/cMDnKWH94Ro/s640/blogger-image-2133844086.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lJ66dLFoZKo/U3PiKw24abI/AAAAAAAADn8/e6fTs1waAKk/s640/blogger-image--657041663.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-lJ66dLFoZKo/U3PiKw24abI/AAAAAAAADn8/e6fTs1waAKk/s640/blogger-image--657041663.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Here is a turkey vulture mini-convention:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-c_Z8li8IYE0/U3PiPVxOSAI/AAAAAAAADoU/RsPdO4CxfF0/s640/blogger-image-833215273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-c_Z8li8IYE0/U3PiPVxOSAI/AAAAAAAADoU/RsPdO4CxfF0/s640/blogger-image-833215273.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>The afternoon was challenging because we rode through thunderstorms. Shoes full of water and glasses covered with spots and fog. </div><div><br></div><div>The campground where we're staying tonight (Autumn Lakes Family Campground) is allowing us to camp under a pavillion. Good thing, too. After supper, we had incredible torrential rain. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-OR4vSHLJuKw/U3QSgMuUeiI/AAAAAAAADo0/IFVfxddYm4Y/s640/blogger-image--1027946195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-OR4vSHLJuKw/U3QSgMuUeiI/AAAAAAAADo0/IFVfxddYm4Y/s640/blogger-image--1027946195.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>This campground has a little bit of everything. Here is one of the residents:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-zRTyJTzRSKM/U3UPsDriG2I/AAAAAAAADpM/AbuPa45IAOU/s640/blogger-image--215168586.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-zRTyJTzRSKM/U3UPsDriG2I/AAAAAAAADpM/AbuPa45IAOU/s640/blogger-image--215168586.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>Our new leader arrived for supper. What an incredible relief! I thought we had done a great job of steering clear of our leadership issues as much as possible but, now that the dysfunction is gone, the atmosphere is so much lighter. I think we are going to have a great finish. </div><div><br></div><div>I cycled 67.8 miles today with 1,109 feet of climbing. 6.5 hours on the road. </div><div><br></div><div>Today's route, part 1:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-wcHHDRQ-b7I/U3PiN5lNGgI/AAAAAAAADoM/QxPqVVHRvVI/s640/blogger-image--91370477.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-wcHHDRQ-b7I/U3PiN5lNGgI/AAAAAAAADoM/QxPqVVHRvVI/s640/blogger-image--91370477.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Part 2:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-QyXUch_iTBU/U3PiMhxfhmI/AAAAAAAADoE/CWuZ5PKxny8/s640/blogger-image-441483280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-QyXUch_iTBU/U3PiMhxfhmI/AAAAAAAADoE/CWuZ5PKxny8/s640/blogger-image-441483280.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Part 3:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-durddJYmKB4/U3PiSBUCD7I/AAAAAAAADok/LH4CYDo9X78/s640/blogger-image-1242542976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-durddJYmKB4/U3PiSBUCD7I/AAAAAAAADok/LH4CYDo9X78/s640/blogger-image-1242542976.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-69620302056188182632014-05-14T17:14:00.001-04:002014-05-14T17:14:28.718-04:00Leadership DramaRemember my posts about our leadership issues on this trip? Today beats all. Apparently both of our leaders have been "extracted" today by the home office, and a replacement single leader will arrive tonight. We received no advance notice, and we had no opportunity to say goodbye. <div><br></div><div>The timing seems weird. For this kind of move to be really effective, it should have been done weeks ago. We only have a little over a week left to go. </div><div><br></div><div>Thankfully, the group is working really well. We have pulled together to organize ourselves at tonight's campground. This trip has been good because of our group (in spite of the leaders); we will finish well because of our group. </div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-84644653280187750442014-05-13T15:53:00.001-04:002014-05-13T19:46:25.267-04:00To London, OhioToday I cycled 43.4 miles with only 876 feet of climbing. 4.5 hours on the road. <div><br></div><div>We rode on two trails today--the Little Miami Scenic Trail and the Prairie Grass Trail (also known as the Ohio to Erie Trail).</div><div><br></div><div>The day began with views similar to yesterday. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-khHBWZ7i2rE/U3J5Vz8IMvI/AAAAAAAADl8/O3oHnGgjTBk/s640/blogger-image--237829740.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-khHBWZ7i2rE/U3J5Vz8IMvI/AAAAAAAADl8/O3oHnGgjTBk/s640/blogger-image--237829740.jpg"></a></div> </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-rABWtweglJI/U3J5YaQWHRI/AAAAAAAADmE/DhHH2py1Ziw/s640/blogger-image--177712758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-rABWtweglJI/U3J5YaQWHRI/AAAAAAAADmE/DhHH2py1Ziw/s640/blogger-image--177712758.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Zq-WIifCgQQ/U3J5QHvvBrI/AAAAAAAADlU/KvheY3RwizU/s640/blogger-image--108461320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Zq-WIifCgQQ/U3J5QHvvBrI/AAAAAAAADlU/KvheY3RwizU/s640/blogger-image--108461320.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Pretty soon, there was less water near the trail, more wide open pastures, and less shade. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ESir_HDKld0/U3J5UhdF8vI/AAAAAAAADl0/7EzSDpuXOKE/s640/blogger-image-2074213617.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ESir_HDKld0/U3J5UhdF8vI/AAAAAAAADl0/7EzSDpuXOKE/s640/blogger-image-2074213617.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8-fZvB_XMDI/U3J5Zxd5oyI/AAAAAAAADmM/p1M8x3r83BY/s640/blogger-image--807904128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8-fZvB_XMDI/U3J5Zxd5oyI/AAAAAAAADmM/p1M8x3r83BY/s640/blogger-image--807904128.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>We went through a few small towns, like South Charleston. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-r-jlKUvCwhc/U3J5Tj3DzsI/AAAAAAAADls/l4qSk-ct-Qw/s640/blogger-image-390877313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-r-jlKUvCwhc/U3J5Tj3DzsI/AAAAAAAADls/l4qSk-ct-Qw/s640/blogger-image-390877313.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vjmKDHCkwXY/U3J5SlatgbI/AAAAAAAADlk/pwTfKULUAh4/s640/blogger-image--1410930768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vjmKDHCkwXY/U3J5SlatgbI/AAAAAAAADlk/pwTfKULUAh4/s640/blogger-image--1410930768.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>This is Nora showing off her strength outside the ice cream shop. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8jv6LRuiAm8/U3J5RQAlhyI/AAAAAAAADlc/Ih1-5UrKue0/s640/blogger-image--367305551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8jv6LRuiAm8/U3J5RQAlhyI/AAAAAAAADlc/Ih1-5UrKue0/s640/blogger-image--367305551.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">If you zoom in on this next photo, you will see Ron and Zoe on their tandem up ahead of me on the trail. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-9LqboZEsZNo/U3J5a6oOoYI/AAAAAAAADmU/p_ayGSTaGGQ/s640/blogger-image--772080997.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-9LqboZEsZNo/U3J5a6oOoYI/AAAAAAAADmU/p_ayGSTaGGQ/s640/blogger-image--772080997.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We are staying at the Senior Center in London, Ohio, tonight. Camping is not usually allowed here, but a number of local people, active with the trail system, made arrangements for us to stay here. We were greeted by a number of locals when we got here, and had our picture taken for the local paper. I spent quite a while talking with a gentleman who has a lot invested in the revitalization of London, and sees the bike trail as a vital part of that process. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We made a last-minute decision to eat at a local church dinner tonight. Word has already spread; locals are sharing that they've heard we ate at the church dinner. Ah, small towns!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">After supper, we were given a presentation by Frank Slagle. His great grandfather was a local abolitionist who hid fugitive slaves in his woolen mill. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--R-SQH2oAA0/U3Kuzharl7I/AAAAAAAADnM/9OVUq3eTG7w/s640/blogger-image-1395781626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/--R-SQH2oAA0/U3Kuzharl7I/AAAAAAAADnM/9OVUq3eTG7w/s640/blogger-image-1395781626.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Frank also collects antique bicycles. He brought this Velocipede or Boneshaker for us to see:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-_2HqeD5WZSA/U3Kux7MstuI/AAAAAAAADnE/RNJFAwZX9og/s640/blogger-image--1218481352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-_2HqeD5WZSA/U3Kux7MstuI/AAAAAAAADnE/RNJFAwZX9og/s640/blogger-image--1218481352.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Today's route, part 1. The little detour at roughly mile 16, was where I went to see an UGRR exhibit at the Wilberforce University library; the library was closed. I also went to the National Afro-American Museum and Cultural Center; it was also closed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-yzueB6S6iYA/U3Kc_h1ZaJI/AAAAAAAADm0/4fIDbK7VzWA/s640/blogger-image-1053051969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-yzueB6S6iYA/U3Kc_h1ZaJI/AAAAAAAADm0/4fIDbK7VzWA/s640/blogger-image-1053051969.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Part 2:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-sZM41TnHavM/U3Kc9TwpJYI/AAAAAAAADmk/QaWsvWcyXTI/s640/blogger-image-1844140545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-sZM41TnHavM/U3Kc9TwpJYI/AAAAAAAADmk/QaWsvWcyXTI/s640/blogger-image-1844140545.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Part 3:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-59a_DQz-bGQ/U3Kc-XGfNBI/AAAAAAAADms/dt8M-mdzycg/s640/blogger-image--49495502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-59a_DQz-bGQ/U3Kc-XGfNBI/AAAAAAAADms/dt8M-mdzycg/s640/blogger-image--49495502.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-7557932844278999832014-05-13T14:03:00.001-04:002014-05-15T17:50:49.992-04:00Eating My Way South to North<div>I am not stopping at nearly the number of eateries as others on this trip, but I sure do love ice cream on a hot day! Here I am (complete with helmet hair), eating mint chocolate chip ice cream at a place called Purple Monkey in South Charleston, Ohio. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-TbMYKwCGb4U/U3JgPFn3a9I/AAAAAAAADlE/2iuHaIrz8OM/s640/blogger-image-168467025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-TbMYKwCGb4U/U3JgPFn3a9I/AAAAAAAADlE/2iuHaIrz8OM/s640/blogger-image-168467025.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-55392670212897161072014-05-12T16:43:00.001-04:002014-05-12T20:20:13.072-04:00Little Miami Trail--May 12 (Day 30)Today I cycled 45.4 miles with 1,526 feet of climbing. 4.5 hours on the road. <div><br></div><div>Glorious change of pace today! We rode on the Little Miami Scenic Trail for almost the entire route. The Little Miami Trail runs along what once was the Little Miami Railroad. It is 50 miles long, runs right through some great little towns, connects to other trails, and is almost completely flat!<div><br></div><div>We woke up to a drenching thunderstorm this morning, which meant we packed up soaking wet tents. We were anticipating riding in more rain, but the day remained dry. The hardest part about the ride was how much wet schmutz came flying off the bike wheels and plastered both me and my bike. I kept having to stop and scrape off the schmutz especially where the front wheel passes through the fork. </div><div><br></div><div>Before we started on the trail, we crossed the Little Miami River:</div><div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-OZ3kjw-gBMs/U3E0x1PQj-I/AAAAAAAADkk/wqLDV8_Xv64/s640/blogger-image-152458405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-OZ3kjw-gBMs/U3E0x1PQj-I/AAAAAAAADkk/wqLDV8_Xv64/s640/blogger-image-152458405.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Below was my view most of the day--river on the left; rest benches, picnic table, or river park occasionally on the right; and lots of shade on this humid, high-80s day. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-NeS6ihrgODY/U3E0qbUCCoI/AAAAAAAADj8/_1gcPnrP99k/s640/blogger-image--1387694162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-NeS6ihrgODY/U3E0qbUCCoI/AAAAAAAADj8/_1gcPnrP99k/s640/blogger-image--1387694162.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>We crossed dozens of tributaries, all of them flooded today due to the rain. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-I10ZnsmY7-4/U3E0lJAEjoI/AAAAAAAADjk/Zf2ncNyUrFY/s640/blogger-image--123069022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-I10ZnsmY7-4/U3E0lJAEjoI/AAAAAAAADjk/Zf2ncNyUrFY/s640/blogger-image--123069022.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-RaHNgwYNyWM/U3E0fcclUeI/AAAAAAAADjU/IIEjL4_O13M/s640/blogger-image--835785849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-RaHNgwYNyWM/U3E0fcclUeI/AAAAAAAADjU/IIEjL4_O13M/s640/blogger-image--835785849.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-q46EQXZQCZc/U3E0oT_CosI/AAAAAAAADj0/NMAqeH5sGVE/s640/blogger-image-975287376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-q46EQXZQCZc/U3E0oT_CosI/AAAAAAAADj0/NMAqeH5sGVE/s640/blogger-image-975287376.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZMrBYv3mAPc/U3E0Zmo3gSI/AAAAAAAADi8/4DErzHKPtTk/s640/blogger-image-328576843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZMrBYv3mAPc/U3E0Zmo3gSI/AAAAAAAADi8/4DErzHKPtTk/s640/blogger-image-328576843.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iZKaOh6s6e8/U3E0wWTEc7I/AAAAAAAADkc/BN_4n2FTbRc/s640/blogger-image--1130355749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-iZKaOh6s6e8/U3E0wWTEc7I/AAAAAAAADkc/BN_4n2FTbRc/s640/blogger-image--1130355749.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>We cycled through cute towns, but most things were closed on Mondays. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-x5xlRyCNR7Y/U3E0hyA7iUI/AAAAAAAADjc/jm4dwW7OHvI/s640/blogger-image--278299859.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-x5xlRyCNR7Y/U3E0hyA7iUI/AAAAAAAADjc/jm4dwW7OHvI/s640/blogger-image--278299859.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>A fellow rider took this shot of me riding along:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-xDeLyb3XWjA/U3FDkmY63uI/AAAAAAAADk0/trlkcjymQRE/s640/blogger-image-801758874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-xDeLyb3XWjA/U3FDkmY63uI/AAAAAAAADk0/trlkcjymQRE/s640/blogger-image-801758874.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>There were these signs cautioning us about construction overhead. See just how high above the trail?</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-_0X_pb2AU2o/U3E0m5mPH1I/AAAAAAAADjs/PAcfxoD03lQ/s640/blogger-image-1593016206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-_0X_pb2AU2o/U3E0m5mPH1I/AAAAAAAADjs/PAcfxoD03lQ/s640/blogger-image-1593016206.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Toward the end of the ride, there were more pastures...</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/--UGip4WQ40U/U3E0caa7XOI/AAAAAAAADjE/9naCfudvgJQ/s640/blogger-image-680116248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/--UGip4WQ40U/U3E0caa7XOI/AAAAAAAADjE/9naCfudvgJQ/s640/blogger-image-680116248.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_2WrAob0vNQ/U3E0eIpLjEI/AAAAAAAADjM/q9jqV4GFUPQ/s640/blogger-image-1274822121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-_2WrAob0vNQ/U3E0eIpLjEI/AAAAAAAADjM/q9jqV4GFUPQ/s640/blogger-image-1274822121.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Some riders rode a side spur (20-mile round trip) to Springboro because that town became one of the most frequented stopovers for freedom seekers. The Quakers who lived in Springboro kept escaped slaves safe, and slaves arrived there following two major escape routes along the Great and Little Miami Rivers. Unfortunately, most everything in the town is closed on Mondays, so our riders were disappointed not to see more. </div><div><br></div><div>Tonight we are camping at Frontier Campground in Spring Valley, Ohio. I got here early enough to dry my tent and clean my bike. All is right in my world!</div><div><br></div><div>Today's route, part 1:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-GilHybZiy3k/U3E0sHqgMUI/AAAAAAAADkE/Ag2ZMyV5QQU/s640/blogger-image-591836758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-GilHybZiy3k/U3E0sHqgMUI/AAAAAAAADkE/Ag2ZMyV5QQU/s640/blogger-image-591836758.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Part 2:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-FMvgNMamRDg/U3E0u3RLgSI/AAAAAAAADkU/VuixZtJkvy8/s640/blogger-image--501964860.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-FMvgNMamRDg/U3E0u3RLgSI/AAAAAAAADkU/VuixZtJkvy8/s640/blogger-image--501964860.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Part 3:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Xn15h7wB1Ig/U3E0tm61DkI/AAAAAAAADkM/_CuCNxUYSx4/s640/blogger-image-1742474676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Xn15h7wB1Ig/U3E0tm61DkI/AAAAAAAADkM/_CuCNxUYSx4/s640/blogger-image-1742474676.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-74169286321182045422014-05-11T20:18:00.001-04:002014-05-11T20:18:42.772-04:00Chattin' It UpYou would think I spend a lot of time on the phone or something...<div><br></div><div>A fellow rider snapped this picture of me chatting away while in my tent. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-f96gqg1dFqE/U3ATYGpsupI/AAAAAAAADiI/6o9krVq5tyI/s640/blogger-image--242407888.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-f96gqg1dFqE/U3ATYGpsupI/AAAAAAAADiI/6o9krVq5tyI/s640/blogger-image--242407888.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-61037799362111877812014-05-11T16:12:00.001-04:002014-05-11T19:30:54.708-04:00National Underground Railroad Freedom CenterOn our layover day today, we moved out of our posh hotel rooms (3 miles of cycling, plus 3.75 more miles to go out to dinner at the end of the day) and shuttled in the van into Cincinnati to visit the National Underground Railroad Freedom Center. <div><br></div><div>The center opened 10 years ago, and has 158,000 square feet of space. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Tw3eDd8_Hfo/U2_ZpBtRi7I/AAAAAAAADhU/BsLGiHVxhio/s640/blogger-image--1064074544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-Tw3eDd8_Hfo/U2_ZpBtRi7I/AAAAAAAADhU/BsLGiHVxhio/s640/blogger-image--1064074544.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>It is located in Little Africa, formerly a community populated by free blacks, and is only a block away from the Cincinnati Reds' ballpark. </div><div><br></div><div>Here is an enormous set of quilts that depict scenes from black history:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-KV4ZPy8fTK4/U2_Zk8YhAjI/AAAAAAAADg0/dCJMyswOJeU/s640/blogger-image--753810824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-KV4ZPy8fTK4/U2_Zk8YhAjI/AAAAAAAADg0/dCJMyswOJeU/s640/blogger-image--753810824.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>This is the view across the river from the center's balcony. There are still-standing slave quarters behind the antebellum houses along the riverfront on the opposite shore. So close, yet so far away. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-99wfXCMW_tA/U2_Zl_eGwiI/AAAAAAAADg8/RXw6Y5UFZPU/s640/blogger-image--789806473.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-99wfXCMW_tA/U2_Zl_eGwiI/AAAAAAAADg8/RXw6Y5UFZPU/s640/blogger-image--789806473.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Here is our tour guide, Carl Westmoreland, a passionate and well-informed founder of the center:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XW0y8p7jc6E/U2_ZoCVv__I/AAAAAAAADhM/kfMhUpWC8e4/s640/blogger-image--1051755971.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XW0y8p7jc6E/U2_ZoCVv__I/AAAAAAAADhM/kfMhUpWC8e4/s640/blogger-image--1051755971.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>This is the interior of an actual slave pen, where slaves were chained and held before and after slave auctions. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-AAbsH6VLm68/U2_Zm9yy4yI/AAAAAAAADhE/xbxVc4nRuSQ/s640/blogger-image--1265051532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-AAbsH6VLm68/U2_Zm9yy4yI/AAAAAAAADhE/xbxVc4nRuSQ/s640/blogger-image--1265051532.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>We also visited an outdoor park in honor of the Black Brigade. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-viNrn8tDfcU/U2_dxJxX5YI/AAAAAAAADho/DdDxhhWw5_8/s640/blogger-image--2001529259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-viNrn8tDfcU/U2_dxJxX5YI/AAAAAAAADho/DdDxhhWw5_8/s640/blogger-image--2001529259.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Cincinnati's Union Army brigades were in Shiloh when the Confederates won a battle in Richmond, Kentucky, opening the door to Cincinnati. Black men volunteered to build forts and defend Cincinnati--using picks and shovels. </div><div><br></div><div>During the afternoon, while some of us visited some non-UGRR museums, others of us went to a Cincinnati Reds game. It's a beautiful park, overlooking the Ohio River. </div><div><br></div><div>Notice the corner of Johnny Bench Way and Pete Rose Street. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-taYC7EWWCv8/U2_dvijCvTI/AAAAAAAADhg/ggW8zFXbEkI/s640/blogger-image--1713413550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-taYC7EWWCv8/U2_dvijCvTI/AAAAAAAADhg/ggW8zFXbEkI/s640/blogger-image--1713413550.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I had a great view from my nose-bleed $14 seat:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PeGe2EXuSws/U2_dzqAFZ9I/AAAAAAAADh4/n-sQJfrBgrM/s640/blogger-image--1322114858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PeGe2EXuSws/U2_dzqAFZ9I/AAAAAAAADh4/n-sQJfrBgrM/s640/blogger-image--1322114858.jpg"></a></div></div><br></div><div>I could see barges going by on the river:</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-oG8EJ8lplfQ/U2_dyf5vO2I/AAAAAAAADhw/hxy6JDHKo0A/s640/blogger-image--1006623567.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-oG8EJ8lplfQ/U2_dyf5vO2I/AAAAAAAADhw/hxy6JDHKo0A/s640/blogger-image--1006623567.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Great day! Oh, and the Cincinnati Reds beat the Colorado Rockies 4-1. </div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-46931229534303112532014-05-10T16:41:00.001-04:002014-05-10T16:41:10.603-04:00To Milford, Ohio (Day 28):<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I cycled 59.4 miles today, with 1,821 feet of climbing. 5.5 hours on the road. <br><br>We began cycling in the rain today. Water was pouring off my front tire into my shoes, and my glasses were both fogged over and rain- spotted. It was humid, so I was wet on the inside of my jacket from sweat. I was one of the last to get out on the road because I had cooking duty this morning. (The cooks have to make sure all breakfast and lunch stuff, plus all group gear, is packed up before they may start the day's ride.) All in all, I figured it might be a fine misery of a day. <br><br>Surprise, surprise! I had a super day! Typically, the first pains stab through my right big toe about 15 miles into the route, and becomes burning feet further into the ride. I spend the rest of the ride trying to minimize and cope with the pain. (I stop and massage my feet, and I play games like "cycle only on the up stroke" to minimize the pressure.) This "hot foot" problem is definitely a nerve problem, but it is also exacerbated by heat. <br><br>Today, my feet were soaking wet. They had also had yesterday almost completely off the bike. I had no hot foot problem today! This makes me think that, when the problem recurs, perhaps I will pour water into my shoes. <br><br>I was enjoying riding so much today, I barely stopped (once to eat a snack, and once to buy a drink and eat lunch); therefore, fewer pictures today. <br><br>Here's a house that caught my eye (due to the fancy filigree) in Ripley:</span><br style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-oW7jNF1UQ_o/U26O2_u4RVI/AAAAAAAADgQ/_ObXYSH89Zk/s640/blogger-image--722797390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-oW7jNF1UQ_o/U26O2_u4RVI/AAAAAAAADgQ/_ObXYSH89Zk/s640/blogger-image--722797390.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Many stream and creek crossings today:</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tvcYjgcV378/U26O4Gokp7I/AAAAAAAADgY/aTLsdwquzwo/s640/blogger-image-419369831.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tvcYjgcV378/U26O4Gokp7I/AAAAAAAADgY/aTLsdwquzwo/s640/blogger-image-419369831.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Today's route, part 1:</span><br style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 18px; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-l9sXrSmdQXE/U26O5OItw5I/AAAAAAAADgg/pdwKHbEHuQk/s640/blogger-image--1921977058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-l9sXrSmdQXE/U26O5OItw5I/AAAAAAAADgg/pdwKHbEHuQk/s640/blogger-image--1921977058.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Part 2:</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UqfKpRvwEQw/U26O0Vb_kSI/AAAAAAAADgA/pU1tI1lmhrw/s640/blogger-image--1803606250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UqfKpRvwEQw/U26O0Vb_kSI/AAAAAAAADgA/pU1tI1lmhrw/s640/blogger-image--1803606250.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Part 3:</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-L1bAPEh8kT8/U26O1sxY47I/AAAAAAAADgI/lVvM9STTHiw/s640/blogger-image-569335156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-L1bAPEh8kT8/U26O1sxY47I/AAAAAAAADgI/lVvM9STTHiw/s640/blogger-image-569335156.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We're staying in a swank hotel in Milford <a href="x-apple-data-detectors://1" x-apple-data-detectors="true" x-apple-data-detectors-type="calendar-event" x-apple-data-detectors-result="1">tonight</a>. I'm ecstatic because I have a whole suite to myself. (My usual roommate, the female leader, is sharing a room with her daughter who has joined us for a day to celebrate Mother's Day.) Also, my laundry is finishing up as I write this. What more could I ask for?<br><br>Tomorrow is another layover day. We will use the van to shuttle into Cincinnati to take a tour of the Freedom Center and see a baseball game. </span></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823079700310125891.post-5658466439631143842014-05-10T16:35:00.001-04:002014-05-10T16:35:39.299-04:00May 9 (Day 27): Ripley, Ohio<div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Today I cycled all of 3.6 miles. It was technically a layover day but we moved from a campsite in Maysville, KY, to a motel in Aberdeen, OH, to escape the rain. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I walked my bike on the sidewalk over the entire bridge crossing the Ohio River. Not only was the bridge too narrow to accommodate cyclists; it also had expansion joints that would swallow bike tires. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Today's route:</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-In7FsJez6l0/U26NlVji5II/AAAAAAAADfo/iM9VrbK5PlU/s640/blogger-image--737871060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-In7FsJez6l0/U26NlVji5II/AAAAAAAADfo/iM9VrbK5PlU/s640/blogger-image--737871060.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This is the Maysville side of the river crossing. Zoom in to check out the 50s era murals. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ArAseEuL9zo/U26NcksDq4I/AAAAAAAADfI/isY6CB5Ddco/s640/blogger-image--1151862514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ArAseEuL9zo/U26NcksDq4I/AAAAAAAADfI/isY6CB5Ddco/s640/blogger-image--1151862514.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Mid bridge; Maysville on the left, Aberdeen on the right. </span></div></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GJ4WFVj7oaA/U26NmU8rR6I/AAAAAAAADfw/IDJNI_5d5SQ/s640/blogger-image-1527085681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GJ4WFVj7oaA/U26NmU8rR6I/AAAAAAAADfw/IDJNI_5d5SQ/s640/blogger-image-1527085681.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Once we were settled into the motel and had done the day's grocery shopping (I was one of the cooks today, so I helped with the shopping), we shuttled with the van to visit two UGRR sites in Ripley. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The John Rankin House was built by John Rankin, a Presbyterian minister, in 1828. This 66-acre farm stands high above Ripley and the Ohio River. While Rankin preached and wrote about his abolitionist views, his sons ran the farm. Ripley was one of three most highly used crossing points along the Ohio River for escaping slaves. The Rankins would put a candle in their window to guide escaping slaves to their home. (The river was half as wide back then--before various dams were added, and much less deep--wadeable in some spots.) Rankin, his wife, and his 13 children "conducted" hundreds of slaves along their escape route. </span></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EP2ef8iLfc8/U26Nd3rFTlI/AAAAAAAADfQ/O2U2_5rw7bk/s640/blogger-image--778327665.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-EP2ef8iLfc8/U26Nd3rFTlI/AAAAAAAADfQ/O2U2_5rw7bk/s640/blogger-image--778327665.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The view from the Rankin House:</span></div></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-htPJy_rxQ3k/U26NfKmRRWI/AAAAAAAADfY/OakYtliPEx0/s640/blogger-image--2126881091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-htPJy_rxQ3k/U26NfKmRRWI/AAAAAAAADfY/OakYtliPEx0/s640/blogger-image--2126881091.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">From photos we saw, in Rankin's day, there were no tall trees down by the river. Rankin could see who was coming and going all along the river from his house. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The Rankin House is currently undergoing restoration for its grand opening in August. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The Parker House was built in Ripley by John P. Parker, a man who was born into slavery in 1827, the son of a black woman and a white plantation owner. Sold multiple times, he was first sold away from his mother at the age of eight. The sons of one of his owners taught him to read. After multiple failed escape attempts, Parker was allowed to purchase his freedom at age 18 by earning extra money at a foundry. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In Ripley, Parker ran a foundry and earned three patents for inventions, including a tobacco press. He was an active conductor on the UGRR, and Kentucky eventually placed a $1,000 bounty on his head. Parker lived in his Ripley home until his death in his 70s. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Parker wrote about his life in his autobiography, <i>His Promised Land</i>. </span></div></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-xEuwuWaeyLI/U26NkSX14KI/AAAAAAAADfg/ZfEWvNVddjI/s640/blogger-image--2063383788.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-xEuwuWaeyLI/U26NkSX14KI/AAAAAAAADfg/ZfEWvNVddjI/s640/blogger-image--2063383788.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00308695728389894723noreply@blogger.com0