Essence - Peripheral encroachment by Reality
5:15 and yes once again we are up and at it. There is a change to the morning ritual however. Polly has started a $5 breakfast plan which is similar in concept to the $10 dinner night. However since this is really the first go around she has just arranged for us al to eat at Cogan's Restaurant and she will just pay the bill instead of giving us each $5 to pay our own bills.
I sit with Lambert and Lisa G and Toronto Dave (Latner). Breakfasts takes a while to get served and so we are starting out later thatn we usually would. Since today is a shorter (only 59 miles) day I am notas concerned about the later start. This start delay does cause Latner some stress as he worries about the increased traffic congestion and such on this lovely Saturday morning in the country. I suppose we all have our worries and concerns in life, mine are just obvioiusly not the same as Latner's.
The tongue and cheek humor of Cogans and the proprietor ultimately make Cogan's a favorite eatery from the ride and many riders get T-shirts.
Finally breakfast is served and eaten and we head out, Lambert, Lisa and I. Leaving Burton head south through Ohio just inside the stateline with Pennsylvania and pass through beautiful amish farms. The roadside fresh produce stands from these amish farms is something to behold. As a rule they request not to be photographed so I can only describe tomatoes as big as grapefruits and such a vibrant color of red as to define "Tomato Red". Simply amazing.
These signs always made me laugh.
Leaving the amish farms we come into more modern family farms. And then standing out like a sore thumb come this iron
fence and this really large, elaborate house. It has the design look of money but it is obvious that it is totally unkept. This owner obviously doesn't care for this house anymore. I wonder who would be so pompous to have such an estate and then let it fall to the gutter in this way. Then I notice all the security cameras on every pole, building and structure. And even the additional poles errected in the middle of the yard so cameras can see the blind spots of buildings.
Who is so grand and yet so paranoid?
Then I get my answer as I pass the front gate.
As the name int he iron work over the gate says, "Mike Tyson". Yeah that makes sense. Crazy fool would be so brash as to build this huge place that is off the map yet has his name in the gate, and has the security to fit his paranoia, yet has fallen into disrepair as a matter of the end of his boxing career and prison sentence. Yeah that profile fits. Many of hte riders don't believe it at first and many don't even take notice of the residence at all. We debate that whether it is or is not. In the end I am convinced it is. As a follow-up once back in Phoenix I showed this to one of the boxing fans at work and he confirmed that yes indeed it was Tyson's home and was often highlighted during ESPN sports center and on other shows.)
Heading down the road we start getting into to industrial Ohio. Within a bicycling hour of the amish farms we are now at the doorstep of industrial america and the Steel and "Coke" Coal plants of Ohio and Pennsylvania.
The transition back to modern society and industry is ugly. The smells and the noise of the steel plant along with the coal dust covering the trucks and the roads just forms an afront on my senses after all the beauty of the country.
The steel plant looks interesting and in the spirit of the ride, Lambert andI walk up to the guard shck to see if we can get a tour. Just like the creamery and teh sawmill that were so open to share and let us see, we hope the Steel plant will be and intersting tour. We find the security officer though asleep with his chin down on his chest and upon further consideration we agree that we shouldn't poke and or wake the bear, so we ride on down the street to the coke plant.
Again we attempt a tour. The security guard says there are no tours today. However he does gives us some overview information on the plant. 50-70 trucks a day / 7 days a week come in and out, truckers starting at 4a.m. and running until midnight and most of the trucks are headed to Cleveland.
The basic info is good. We thank him for his patience and head off on our merry little way.
This sign to New York strikes something in me. I have never been close enough to New York to see a road sign for it. To think that I have almost ridden there on my bike seem s unfathomable.
On down the road we find the rest check point waterstop and the Scott Train tells us of a War Vet museum just aroudn the corner with an elaborate train room. they recommend it highly and so Lambert and I go as we are smelling the roses and stretching these 60 miles out as far as we can.
The museum is all donated articles and is separated by the conflict they were used in. Uniforms, newsreels, dioramas weaponry. Everything has been donated and it is a 4 story house crammed with stuff from as early as the civil war. Int he basemnt they have a train room. Using several different scales of model trains they are recreating scenes of the American Hopmefront War Machine in action. They are maticulous in their care the museum is almost as valuable as a model railroad museum as of a war museum.
Leaving the Vet museum Lambert and I head down the road only to find a dog show at the county fairgrounds as another diversion. I go in search of pugs, but I am too late. Pugs were shown earliy in the morning. We do see way too many dogs that are way too pampered. Many of the small one look like they have been thrown in a dryer and put on th "FRIZ" cycle. One lady with immacuately manicured red acrylic nails and perfectly applied makeup is now coming and brushing her lapdog just so and arranging the bow in its hair.
Dave and I ride around looking at all the dogs but are more amazed at the people. And the amount of money they have spent on highend motorcoaches and paraphenalia to show their dogs. These dogs are treated better than many children in this country and it starts to turn your stomach. 30 minutes later of gobsmacked dumbness we leave with the same expression we would have if we left a campground of alien spaceships. Totally surreal.
With 20 miles left to go I see a few fresh fruit stands and devise a plan that the next stand we see, we will get a fresh pie and a drink and then head down the road and invite ourselves to the comfort of one of the awesome porches that we are passing on both the left and the right. Of course we will be polite and have our manners with us, but the porches look so inviting and I would love to meet some of the people that live in these houses.
This plan never materializes.
As we reach the last town before camp, I spy a sidewalk bake sale and we look there for pies. Sadly no pies just breads and other sweets are part of a bake sale fundraiser from the mothers and wives of a church as they are raising money to send their husband on a mission trip to Jamaica.
The bake sale ladies are tremendously sweet and ask all kinds of questions about our journey. Even as they are raising money, one lady donates to our cause for the Lung Associaiton. Another lady worried about our personal needs, gives Lambert and I money and specifically directs me that is it is for Dave and I to use for food or other needs and not for the association.
They won't let us leave until we take some coffee cakes and muffins. So grateful for their kinds ness and with our packs laden down with what we can carry Lambert and I head off for our final few miles.
WE chat about the bake sale ladies as we continue in our still unsuccessful Pie and Porch plan. We turn and head 1/2 mile off the route to a cider mill hopefully for a sample and tour. They are closed and thus we return to the route. We are close now and desparate for a treat and only 1 mile from camp. We head on, and ride past camp to what we think is the next town. At the crest of a hill, we stop and examine the hill and determinet that comoing back up it is nothing worth the reward of pushingon. We double back passed camp yet again to an ice cream place we had spied earlier.
As we get there, we find Steve enjoying a "peach boat" on recommedation from the Dimmitts. I use the church ladies money and Dave and I indulge in peach boats ourselves and our long awaited treat.
Dave Lambert and a "Peach Boat."
Not being a peach fan, I hesitate on the "peach boat" but when in Rome...
Actually it is delicous and even turns my tastes bit toward peaches. Who knew.
After the peach boats we ride in the bicycle equivalent of a mosey, into camp and set up our tents.
Dinnertiem winds up being the low point of the day. It is catered by Boston Market, which I love, but by the time I get up to the front, they have run out of several of the foods and there really isn't enough for the last 1/3 of the group.
After dnner there is an all rider meeting. I don't care to discuss the private issues of that meeting here. I would just like to say that this is the first divisive and contentious event to come up that polarizes the group into 2 sides and threatens to disrupt the harmony. That tension and polarizing is very disturbing to many of us and certainly gives me new insight to group politics and on several levels.
Ultimately we all go to bed, some folks licking wounds, others fuming and many of us trying to keep our heads down and just focus on the task of tomorrows ride.
Alas Drama has befallen the ride and we have re-encountered the first worries of re-entry, end of ride issues etc.
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