More recollections, or not

Today is a rest day! Wed peddled six days over excrutiating hills and relentless strong headwinds. So today we give our bodies and what is left of our minds a break. I don't remember what I wrote yesterday, much less what happened during the last month, so I'll continue with a bunch of half truths and hazy recollections.

Did I mention that I hate hills and headwinds. Maybe a little. Question of the day. What is worse than a strong headwind or a steep or long hill? Yes! It is when you finally reach the top of such a hill and get slapped with a 20 mph gust that stops you cold in your tracks. The noise of the wind gets really annoying after a while. Four hours of the whistling in your ears and your mind turns to mush. When I open a water bottle to drink, the wind makes a high whisling sound like a flute.

We are not afraid or worried about no stinking terrorists here in the heartland. We think the war in Iraq is stupid. We don't watch the Weather Channel to see if we have permission to go outside today. All in all, we are happy, easygoing, friendly people. Always ready to lend a helping hand. I can't tell you how many times someone has stopped to ask if everything is ok or if we needed help when we are taking a break on the side of the road. Just yesterday a woman passed us, flipped a uey, and came back to offer aid. We think it is because Yoni is taking the opportunity to stretch and looks horribly contorted or sometimes he is taking a quick nap and looks dead next to his bike. You might remember how Shelly turned around to save us from the impending storm in Yoder, Ill. She was carrying a bike rack, so we loaded up and headed back to the community church where they were having a cookout and a concert. We ate well, enjoyed a concert, and were given free run of the church for the evening. Just asked us to turn of the lights when we went to sleep. The Pastor and the flock, delightful people.

There was the one town where we slept in the park. The mayor came down in his 4x4 to open the bathrooms so we could have running water and wouldn't mess the grass. The town had one police officer who made rounds at night. He said there hadn't been any incidents in town for the last 8 years. Everyone knows everyone. People let their kids play outside unsupervised. No fear.

I seem to recall thinking of this area of the country as a land of intolerance and predjudice. Small minded people. Nope. All wrong. After Yoni introduces himself and people ask what kind of name that is and he explains that it is hebrew, they pretty well know we are different. No matter. We are accepted, invited in.

We have seen a lot of mixed marriages in small towns. White people adopting black children. None of the paranoia and hate you find in the big city.

So I think I have enough statistics now to say the Standard Diviant lives in the big city. I call this theory Sigma Sick.

The weather has been generally good during the whole trip. There has been intermittent storms all around us. But we have only seen thunder, lightning, and rain up close and personal 3 times. The first time was somewhere in Ohio or Indiana (actually I don't have a clue where it was, Yoni has the journal). It was late in the day. As usual I was exhausted. I approached a police officer in his car and asked if a motel was close at hand, as the sky was rapidly darkening. He was very personable and we talked at length. He had been with the police force the requisite number of year needed to retire, so he was going to retire soon and collect a very good pension, and then go right back to work for the police force at his regular salary. He would use his pension to put his kids through college and his salary to live on. We talked a little too long, for when we headed down the road toward th Villa Rosa Motel, the thunder and lightening started and the sky opened up with a deluge so strong i could barely see my handle bars. That's how the rain always happens here. Sudden onslaught. Then you drown. Yoni couldn't hear me, but a exausted as I was I was screaming peddle faster as I followed him to the motel. You'll be happy to know that Apu Nasahap......(bungled Simpsons reference) is alive and well and owns most of the cheap run down motels and small groceries in the country.

Maybe the first time it dumped on us was as we approached Bowling Green, Ohio. Or not. There was thunder in the distance most of the day. We didn't worry about it because it was so far away. However, as we approached Bowling Green, the storm moved in fast. The lightening was close and coming straight down to the ground. Thunder less than 1 second away. The sky opened up as I starting up the ramp to the metal bridge I had to cross. The wind kicked up and I peddled my little heart out. Yoni spotted a golf course on the left after the bridge and quickly turned in. I turned in and we peddled to the club house. We found shelter under a canopy. But then the wind got so strong the rain was going sideways. The people there offered the shed to shelter our bicycles and invited us in until the rain and wind quited a little. They were closing, so they offered us the left over hot dogs and whatever they were only going to throw away anyway. The food was welcome. Food always seems welcome when you are riding 5 to 6 hours a day.

The last time it rained we manged to get into a restaurant just in time to avoid getting wet. They had a salad bar and we really stocked up on our raw vegetables. Raw vegetables have not been abundant in our travels. We were on a busy road just before the storm and we had to ask at several places to find the restaurant. In order to get there we had to wait for a left turn signal to recognize us. Bicycles are unrecognizable. So we sat and watched everyone else go 2 or 3 times as the storm rushed in on us. Finally we just charged through the red when all the other traffic had long gone and beat the storm by milliseconds. True harrowing story, i think.

We actually don't eat so much or so often. I really meant I don't eat so much. Beardo pounds down a huge meal every time we stop for food. Then an hour of peddling later he is hungry. Our routine is like this. I wake up a 5AM. I wait until 6:30 and say good morning to Beardo. I'm ready to leave camp by 7:30. By 8:30 to 9:00, Beardo is about ready. Sometimes I just leave early and he catches up. I go slowly. Or rather sloooooowly. Usually we ride 20 or 25 miles before breakfast. We try to stop at a local cafe. But McD is occasionally the only thing around. Local food is mediocre. Eggs are always fresh and delicious, cooked right and hot. The home fries are those dreadful frozen string potatoes. Coffee weak and tasteless. People are always friendly and inquisitive. We spend too long at breakfast talking and talking and talking.

After breakfast we ride all day until we are near our destination. I like to stop in a small town and ask if there is any free camping. We ask either an officer of the law, a local sitting outside, or at the local cafe or bar.
An aside: What does every town have no matter what size? It's not a church. It's a bar. That bar is message central. That's where everyone goes who is not a home, where all the action takes place, where you find out what is happening.

Towns with populations about 300 to 600 are optimal for finding free camping in the city park. Towns over 2000 people seem to be really shaky about letting people camp. There's been vandalism. Anyway we need to find a grocery store of a restaurant before 9:00PM or there may not be any food available at all. The bar is a good bet, but they usually stop serving food at 10:"00.

Did you know that people out here live day to day without using a credit card? The nearest shopping mall are many miles away. Going there is a special occasion. Shopping for groceries is a full morning or afternoon. And I'm talking about choosing what kind of fancy mushrooms or chili peppers you want for dinner. We're talking meat, milk, eggs, flour, etc. Why there was a bank in Odell that didn't do credit cards or ATM.

My time at the computer is almost up and I want to make sure to publis this before I lose it all. I vaguely remember getting all warm and fuzzy about America just before I got kicked out of the library last time. Fortunately, that feeling is gone. Still, the life in some of these small towns reminds me of growing up in Paterson, NJ in the forties and fifties. It turns out that they were very good times.

I'd like som input. Is it head winds, head-winds, or headwinds. Does anyone know or care? This is not and open invitation to correct my spelling or grammar. Comprende?

And what the hell is MK Ultra?

Don't know when we will be at a library again. Tomorrow we head for Dalbo, MN. Then on to Fargo, ND.