Gig Harbor Washington to Bar Harbor Maine 2001

Managed to get a good night sleep in spite of having to hike to the bathroom twice. Teach me to go on a fake beer binge. I bought a real pair of riding shorts at the bike shop in Spooner which immediately became my favorites, so I dropped them and a few other nasty things into a laundromat, then we went back to the Kuntry Kubbard for another buffet. We really need to ride more to keep up with our eating.

Tracy, Curt, Henry & Fiona

Curt and family were getting ready to take off for Boston. We went to the airport to see them off (after picking up my clean clothes). They've got a beautiful plane. Kathryn showed up before they left, she and Garcia had just started their laundry. We started talking to the pilots and others hanging around the airport and got some route advice.

Michigan road maps show a very limited number of small roads and don't show names. From our limited experience I'd say they don't show detail because the roads suck. I headed down the highway alone. Sunday go-home traffic was already horrible. It was a little better on the backroads, but the road surface was badly cracked and alligatored, much worse than Wisconsin's backroads. I tried to follow the pilot's advice, but after a few miles of nasty gravel, I improvised successfully, then got back on the route. One road was really nice with very little traffic. I found out why when I saw the road construction sign. I was able to bail out after a few miles of barely rideable dirt and gravel.

Later all roads were filled with people rushing home and I just started looking for anyplace to stop. I hit Big Rapids at about 75 miles and 4:30 and ungodly heat, even though it was under 90. I rode all the way through town before I finally found a motel. A quick shower, air-conditioned nudity and a delivered pizza later, and I felt better.

Maybe Mike should have gone too

I had a message on my phone from Gridley's wife, Darsey. Gridley left his wallet in a small town, eventually got a live sheriff on the phone who determined that the store was already closed and the wallet was not where he thinks he left it outside. He's pretty well screwed, but was glad I was waiting in Big Rapids with a cold room and some warm pizza.

A couple hours later I got a call from Garcia. He'd had more trouble with his bike and they got a ride, I'm not sure how far. He was calling from 3 doors down in the same motel! The roads were so rough his taillight bounced down and hit his wheel, which pulled it forward, peeling his rack under with it. It was like pulling an emergency brake and he started skidding and his trailer started jackknifing. All this while a truck was passing on a bad narrow road. There didn't appear to be any serious damage to bike or Mike, but there sure coulda been.