Wednesday, June 1st
Crossing the border out of Canada was surprisingly much easier than coming in. I feared the worst, even though I have no pragmatic reason to worry. After a later start than planned we’re back in the USA by 11.30 and on our way back to Toledo, Ohio where i’ll say bye to Paul, pick up my bike, and continuing cycling.
But first we stop for breakfast Bob Evans, one of the chain all-day breakfast style places i’ve yet to eat at. I have a stack of pancakes, with blueberries, bacon, and some oatmeal on the side. It reminds me of the Little Chef in the UK. It’s been around for a while, and some of the staff have too. Each waitress has a badge with their name on and when they started. We get served by someone who’s been topping up people’s coffee since the late 70’s.
Back in Toledo I let myself into the house where my bike has been stored. I’m amazed how trusting almost perfect strangers can be.
I sort my things and put them back on the bike. I arrange a Warm Showers host for that night, about 35 miles from the city, say bye to Paul and begin cycling again.
I start off ok, and cycling feels natural and fairly comfortable. But after a little while my legs feel heavy and my energy – or perhaps more accurately my enthusiasm level, drops.
I don’t like cycling these half days, it feels better to start early and finish early, than do it the other way around. It’s not a long distance to my host, Glenn, at least, and I can start more freshly tomorrow.
I join the north fork of Cannonball Trail, another rail-track now cycle track. The sky is gloomy, the track is repetitive, though the forest at the side looks more interesting and I spot a deer though the trees. We have a brief staring contest then they disappear into the trees.
I leave the trail for the roads after reaching a section blocked by fallen trees and continue on to Delta where I break for coffee and let Glenn know i’m an hour or so away. Rain falls lightly as I drink my coffee outside in front of a huge sign advertising 32oz drinks for 89 cents.
I go to the wrong address to begin with. A mistake I can blame, for the first time, entirely on Google Maps, and make it to Glenn’s house later than planned.
He welcomes me on the driveway and I put my bike in the garage as we talk. I take a shower then speak to him about a ride he did from Seattle to Iowa last year and he brings out a large paper atlas and traces the route with his finger. I try and make mental notes on towns and road numbers.
I get given pulled pork and beans for dinner, with pasta salad and bread and cookies for dessert. It’s more than I could have asked for.
During my time sitting at the table I meet Glenn’s wife and two daughters who sit with us for a while. I eat everything and thank them a lot.
Glenn shows me the camp stove he used on his trip and it makes me a little interested in cooking again, as much to break up the routine as anything else. We boil a pot of water to see how long it takes and his wife times it.
I decide that I will cycle to Chicago the next day, it’s a detour from the Northern Tier route, but i’m not sure when i’d visit again, and when I’m there i’ll take a rest day to figure out where to go next. In a way i’m delaying a decision but I have too many ideas now about what route I want to take to get me West and my move after Chicago will be hard to reverse. It’s exciting, having all these options and states to explore, but a little overwhelming too.
I head downstairs to the basement where i’ll be sleeping. On the walls are mounted fish and a deer that Glenn and his son had caught and shot.
I sink into a huge bean bag which will be my bed for the night, and sleep swiftly follows.
Map
