Sorry for the long post everyone. I tried to use weird language to make it quick and punchy, but it probably gets kind of boring. Anyway, I felt the need to get this written down.
I pushed my legs harder than I can ever remember and knew that I had to keep going, but felt a distinct inclination to find out where the nearest motel was and lament the fact that it wasn't right here, right now.
Wait... let me go back.
The nine of us set off at 6:35am with high expectations and high energy.
Wait... further back.
I had class for a week from 9 to 5 and didn't feel like biking much after that even though I was biking to and from campus for class.
Maybe too far back...
So, I got sick and didn't train until the Wednesday. We started off on the Friday morning.
Maybe I had it right before...
The Friday.
Tyler and I got up at 4:45am. I don't remember sleeping that night. Must have dozed but never really slept.
Loaded the bikes onto a little bikerack on the back of the Civic, known to some as 'Zippy'; drove to Derrick's place. Everyone met there, trickling in sometime around 6am. We were supposed to leave by 6. Slow start expected. Ah well.
Ah yes. So, the nine of us set off at 6:35am with expectations and high energy. There was some rain predicted, but we hoped to beat it.
Friday's Plan.
Leave at 6am. Bike from Chicago to Milwaukee. 100 miles at about 80% bike trails. Average speed 12mph. With a few breaks and a few unforeseen problems this should take between 10 and 12 hours. Realistically, 12 hours is probably about right. So, we plan to get into Milwaukee between 6 and 7pm.
What actually happened.
Nine guys around the ages of 23 or 24 set off together. After about 45 minutes, I got a flat tire and it started raining. Jordan was worried about a tear in my tire. No bike stores were open yet. We replaced the tube and strapped some of the old tube to the outside of the tear to protect it from miscellaneous puncturing variables. The piece of old tube was strapped on with duct tape wrapped around the wheel. To stop the tape from rubbing on my back breaks, we took the back breakpads off.
Skip a few things.
After about 20 miles of driving with some duct tape strapped around my tire and only one set of breaks, we had another flat and then stopped in at a bike store, which was filled with extremely helpful employees that also managed to fit in some unhelpfulness at the same time. It was very confusing.
The girl serving me was increasingly frustrated with my lack of knowledge. I had no real qualms about revealing my ignorance. I wish I had said something like: I can fix up my bike decently well, but I have no idea what you're talking about. She got frustrated and wanted to either do no work or lots of work, but none of this minor tweaking business.
Note: Bike paths often have forks. They often meet up about a hundred yards later. It is often a choice between a high road and low road, or maybe one route provides access to a particular exit off the bikepath. If the two paths will not rejoin, there is usually a sign to indicate which path goes where, or something to that effect.
We came to fork not long after the bike shop. We had just done a mini-sprint that seemed necessary to those who were worried about time in ways that I don't quite understand with distance biking. It must be psychological. The feeling of getting some speed in to make up for the long stop at the bike shop.
11am has come and gone and we are at a fork in the road. A quick decision was made that the left path made more sense. Hopefully there wouldn't be dire consequences. We were supposed to be going North, but we were going Northwest.
Skip a bunch.
There's a canoe floating anchored in a pond and a redwinged blackbird attacks Tyler.
We're lost. This park is not right. We are so far from where we should be. How far out of the way are we? It's hard to say. Let the record show that iPads are bad navigational devices. Well, maybe with the 3G it would work, but using an HTC Evo as a wi-fi hotspot is pointless. Why not just use the GPS on the Evo? Don't worry about it.
Moving North to find a road that connects back the way we want to go.
Oh dear. This is distinctly a full highway with cars going 60-65mph. No fun. No options. We walked along the edge for about 20 minutes to a half hour.
Taking other roads and stop for lunch at about 2:30 before we're even back on the trail. Someone tells me that we have between 60 and 65 miles left. Also, we've probably already gone about the same distance. So, yay, we're sort of halfway, except we made the journey 20% longer and we're not halfway to Milwaukee, we're just halfway if we don't get lost again.
After lunch.
Then it started getting bad for me. The trail. The blasted trail.
There was a heavy mist. Over the next few hours it would build up until my helmet would drip about once every couple seconds. The wind was in our faces. Yay headwind. The trail was wet. The trail was gravel, but not heavy gravel. My Lotus Special 1983 roadbike would not have liked that much, but legs didn't like this fake gravel much either. It was a mixture of very fine gravel and basic sand. The mixture not completely soft, but the water loosened it up for me. After about 5 miles of that straight trail in gloomy mists around Kenosha WI, I could feel that my legs wouldn't take much more. There was no chance of a second wind of energy. The trail was killing me. My tires sunk just a little bit, causing me to lower my gear as if I was going uphill for those 20 or so miles. I was probably biking at about 8mph.
It was brutal. Just brutal.
At one point my bike slipped in a muddy puddle and the wind picked up so that it was especially hard for me to muster the strength to keep my legs moving. The clif bars didn't have the umph to make my legs win at biking into a headwind in bad weather on a soft wet trail after getting lost. I yelled in frustration, "Agh! I can't handle it...! The wind and-" with nothing to add. I was quiet for a while.
Nothing left.
Gone. Done. That's it.
We had already lost three of nine. Three went to the train and took it back to Chicago. Their adventure was cut short, but somehow I kept pushing my legs.
But my frustration turning to anger gave me the little bit of energy I needed for a couple miles until we got to paved road. With under forty miles to go. I slowly started to feel like the end was in sight. It felt ridiculous, but if I didn't have to bike on that trail, I would probably be fine.
I had some extra energy on the better surfaces, but we ended up on some gravel trail again for about 5 miles. With thirty miles left, I felt very hopeful. I started to feel better and better emotionally, but my knees were wearing down and my wrists and fingers were stiffening. The mist intensified and darkness began to fall.
We did eventually make it to Milwaukee, the six of us, at 10pm. We stopped short of downtown (our planned destination) for pizza. Erica, a Notre Dame friend, picked Tyler and I up and we stayed at her parents' house.
Knowing that we had finished felt wonderful, but the physical pain stopped me from feel overly confident about the return.
Sunday, after a day of relative rest and a big meal on Saturday night.
Sunday, back to Chicago.
Sunday, please be kind to me.
Sunday, we set off at 7:40am. Erica kindly dropped Tyler and I off back at the same pizza place that we had ended and we met Derrick there. The three of us traveled together on the way back.
With wonderful weather, no flat tires, better attitudes, better conditioning, a 5-10mph tailwind and dry trails, we thoroughly enjoyed our ride back. We didn't get lost and we hardly had to make any stops. A stop at subway for early lunch and home depot for a hex-wrench. Clif bars and water took us all the way back to Chicago.
Our two mishaps were both related to somewhat playful biking. Tyler and Derrick decided to switch one hand each for the other's handlebars and biked for about 50ft before they weaved, slowed, and tumbled harmlessly (although I was very worried at the time). Also, there was some leg sunburn.
As we entered Chicago, there were two interweaving and parallel paths. As I saw Tyler on the other path and mine looked to be ending, I took off across the grass to join Tyler, but I didn't see a big dip in the grass and hit it pretty hard. I felt my shoulder half-dislocate and then pop back in. Now, I'm double-jointed and I know what it feels like to have my should joint move around in unusual ways. This was not the same. It hurt a lot and continued to be sore for a couple days. It's pretty much okay now, in case anyone was worried about me.
So, after a mostly harmless and generally funtimes day of bikeriding, we arrived back at our startpoint at 6pm on the dot.
Thanks to Tyler for staying back with me when I was struggling.
Thanks to Derrick for being steady and safe, but also for his excellent navigation skills (along with Jake). Android phones... yessss.
Thanks to Jordan for organizing the whole thing, I'm sorry you didn't make it to the end. Next time.
Thanks to Erica for letting Tyler and I stay with you and your parents.
Thanks to Derrick's hosts Molly and Dru.
Thanks to Alan and Beth for buying my a backpack two years ago that is kind of light and outdoorsy. It was perfect for this particular adventure.
Thanks to Ellen for not being mad at me for being kind of out of contact for most of the weekend.
Sorry if I'm forgetting people.
Thanks to
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