Chi-town to A-squared

I left Chicago by the pleasant Lakeshore Trail which continued on through South Chicago and into Indiana. The heat and humidity was as bad as in Laos; so much for any cooling lake breeze! I arrived to the town of Michigan City as dusk fell and found a small plot of trees between a bank and supermarket. Being completely soaked in sweat and having no idea what would be farther up the shore I opted to stay put. Changing clothes was a moot point due to the temperatures being in the 90s even after the sun had set. Instead I stripped down, set up the hammock and laid down to try and stop sweating. This proved to be a faulty plan for two reasons. For one, I was so dirty and sweaty that I was never going to be able to get comfortable. Secondly, without any clothes on (and being right next to some sort of irrigation pond) the mosquitoes were absolutely devouring me. Slathering on bug spray and laying in the stifling hammock just exacerbated the heat and mugginess. At one point the bank's sprinkler system went off and I took the opportunity to have a hobo-shower. I figured if I rinsed clean I could finally cool down. Instead I just resumed sweating and had to break out the bug juice again.
The next day I awoke to more unrelenting heat and parted ways with the shore as I headed inland into Michigan. That evening I was rolling into Three Rivers as some particularly nasty looking storm clouds gathered on the horizon. For whatever reason I had assumed I was in for nothing but blazing heat and had stopped checking weather reports. I bought a Big Gulp at a gas station and pedaled over to a nearby park to wait the storm out under a picnic shelter. It was only about 6 PM so I had hoped to put in another 20 or 30 miles before finding a spot for the night. As the first drops started coming down and peals of thunder rumbled out my phone rang. Sarah, my Ann Arbor hostess, was on the other end. She seemed concerned (and rightly so) that I would be brash enough to try and ride through this storm. Unlike myself, she had looked at the weather radar and saw what I was in for. Having known me for a few years now she wasn't surprised by my bravery (although I think she referred to it as "stupidity") but she volunteered to make the 2 hour car trip and pick me up. Like two heaven sent guardians, her and Meg arrived during a lull in the storm and whisked myself and my trusty steel steed to Ann Arbor. Thank goodness they did because the front of storms rolling through all evening were much more violent than I had expected. It certainly would have been some miserable riding, if not downright unsafe. Back at Sarah's place I washed the day away, donned some clean clothes and promptly passed out.
Saturday morning Sarah went to work at a nearby farm but was sent home early because of more threatening storms. We spent the morning walking through the Art Festival that was setup downtown and met up with Meg to peruse the farmer's market. We found some nice eggplants which gave me the irresistible temptation to craft some eggplant parmesan. That culinary feat had to wait as Meg headed off to Detroit for a Tigers game while Sarah and I opted to go to an excellent draft house nearby, Ashley's. Extensive polling of the bar patrons led to the conclusion that although my beard was epic and impressed all the dudes, the fairer sex insisted that it was in my best interest to shave it. I was thoroughly persuaded but still had strong doubts about placing my beloved beard under the clippers. We agreed to postpone the beard trimming and called it a night.
I awoke to be greeted by considerably sunnier weather. We took the opportunity to hike along the Huron River up to a dammed section. As we laid back on a dock to soak up the sunshine some comic relief was provided by a group of young people attempting to portage. Afterwards we gathered a few key ingredients and I meticulously labored on the aforementioned eggplant. I'm getting pretty good at this recipe so if you house this hobo you may want to request it! After dinner the girls and I mustered our courage and made battle with the beard. I have to admit, I had forgotten just how damn handsome (damnsome?) I am.
One last Ann Arbor activity that I got a big kick out of was playing "Balderdash" at a dinner party a night or two before I left. The game is very simple, pretty challenging and extremely fun. One person picks a word from the dictionary and writes the definition on a slip of paper. After all the other players write down their "definitions" all the slips are read out loud and each person votes for the definition they believe is true. Hilarity ensues and points are awarded for correct guesses and/or number of people hoodwinked. Do you know what "pip" or "variola" means? Get your mind out of the gutter...
Finally I tore myself off of Sarah's couch and out of Ann Arbor. Once again rails-to-trails projects helped make a boring ride a little more bearable. Within two days I had covered 180 miles and wound up in my grandmother's backyard in Akron, Ohio. Coming soon: Akron, Johnstown and the luxurious Custer Ranch!

(Hot) Dog Days of Summer

Goodness, my jokes are great. I was recently speaking with a friend on the phone and upon hearing that I was in Pennsylvania she had the same reaction as many folks. She thought I was still in Colorado (or more outrageous, California). I informed her that it had been more than a month since we spoke and at that point I was indeed in Colorado. I'll cut Stacy a break on this; I'm sure time passes more quickly for all you folks with real-world responsibilities. In addition, getting from Colorado to Pennsylvania by bicycle in a mere month would be quite the feat. Herein lies my dirty little secret: catching one big lift and a few shorter ones.
Before anyone screams blasphemy allow me to explain. Riding the bike from Denver to Chicago would have been about 1200 miles. With a conservative estimate of about 70 miles per day this would take me about two and a half weeks. Now, as much as the scenery of eastern Colorado, Nebraska and Iowa tantalizes the senses, I felt it would be kind of silly to blow my budget and arrive back east without enough money to visit all my friends and family. So how did I close the distance?
The magic of Craigslist! With an ad out on Denver Craigslist I was soon contacted by a young lady, Jayme, headed to eastern Iowa. A grueling overnight non-stop drive delivered us to Sabula, Iowa where Jayme's father owns a really neat art-gallery/wood-fired pizza shop. If you're ever in Sabula be sure to stop in Bombfire Pizza for one of the best pies on the Mississipi. After Jayme's father treated me to some culinary samples (and a hefeweizen or two to match) I headed off to hunt a swimming hole. I eventually gave up and opted for a snooze on a shady bank. Although I hadn't actually done any driving (my license expired while abroad), I was awake the whole night to entertain Jayme and our other passenger/driver. No sleep + pizza + beer + outrageous heat = complete zonk-out. I finally awoke around 2 or 3 PM and rode my bicycle over the mighty Mississipi for the second time ever. Forty five miles later I arrived in Mount Morris, Illinois. The sight of my loaded bike drew some attention. After a little conversation and some trail magic I found myself being whisked away to spend the night with a young couple who were big fans of RAGBRAI, the annual mass party/bicycle ride across Iowa. Time and time again I'm amazed by the hospitality of strangers and this instance was certainly no exception. A huge bacon and egg breakfast fueled me up and I set out into the already blazing, muggy weather. The dull scenery (who wants more cornfields? Yay!) and oppressive heat made for a rather tedious ride but I found some nice rails-to-trails paths to cruise nearly into the heart of Chicago.
I pushed myself to finish the 97 mile ride and arrive in Chi-town around 9:30 at night. Riding through unknown neighborhoods of Chicago at 9 PM on a Friday is a novel experience but I don't think I'd repeat it anytime soon. I'm thinking my gigantic, bushy beard (or wonderful natural musk) prevented any criminals from even looking at me twice. As one might imagine, I was pretty exhausted when I arrived at Rob and Jenelle's apartment. My frustration and disappointment was off the charts when I found out Jenelle was at a bachelorette party and Rob was still at the Pitchfork Music Festival. I sat down outside their fence and twiddled my thumbs for about an hour, sending text messages back and forth until Jenelle finally asked "Well, where are you in Chicago?". I thought that I had made it clear I was directly in front of her house.
"Oh, why don't you just go in? My friends are there...sorry, the door bell is broken." Goodness gracious. If I didn't love the girl so much I could have strangled her right through the phone. I took a shower, put on some fresh duds (although at this point everything I own would make a homeless person blush) and upon Rob's return we headed out to sample the nightlife. The great thing about my arrival in Chicago coinciding with Pitchfork was that my good buddies Mike and Cary were also in town. The next few days were spent catching up with old friends and visiting a list of Chicago's fine establishments (courtesy of Matt Kelly over at pedalpanam). The highlights, for any curious or Chicago-bound readers, were Hot Doug's, Kuma's Corner, Oasis Grill, Map Room and Aliveone. Hot Doug's is a famous hot dog joint with inventive specialties such as a duck sausage topped with foie gras or a goat chorizo smothered in an artisnal soft cheese. Of course one can't leave Hot Doug's without also ordering the classic "Chicago style" dog which is quite a bargain at about 2 or 3 bucks. Kuma's Corner is another Chicago landmark and gastronomic delight which often has a (justifiably) long wait. Kuma's crafts some of the most creative burgers in the US named after heavy metal bands and accompanied by the appropriate ear-splitting music. I visited Kuma's along with Chapel Hill chums Liz and Richard. It was a real treat to catch Richard while he was in town since I had not seen him much since he was kicked out of his Peace Corps position in Madagascar due to a coup. Being an avid cyclist himself we paired up the following day to cruise the city's sights by bike. I also poked my head into the obscure Oasis Grill. Tucked away into the back of a downtown jeweler's mall, Oasis is the type of place I could never find without the insider advice provided by Mr. Kelly. They serve some of the tastiest (and budget!) Mediterranean cuisine I've ever had. The last two places worthy of a Hobo-recommendation were the two bars Map Room and Aliveone. Map Room is just my sort of place; low key music, shelves stuffed with books, maps and encyclopedias and an astounding selection of beers. Aliveone also earned a special place in my heart with a mind-blowing all-drafts $2 special which is particularly hard to believe in a city with prices like Chicago.
With my belly nearly dragging on the ground from all the tasty treats and frosty brews I finally hit the Lakeshore Trail and headed out of the Windy City. Up next, the (not so) exciting ride to Ann Arbor including my rescue by a pair of guardian angels and onwards to Akron!

Introduction to my last month

I'm sure all of you loyal Hobo-readers out there are very concerned after I seem to have dropped off the face of this fine planet the last month or so. Fear not, for the Hobo is alive and thriving; a little behind on his blogging but doing well nonetheless. The truth is the riding (when it actually occurs) has been pretty uneventful and dull (see photos for evidence) and although I've had a blast in the cities I've visited, I felt that reading about my over-indulgences and gluttony would be a little tedious for you folks. In any case, my grandfather pointed out just how long it had been since an update. This observation coupled with my overwhelming guilt has inspired me to attempt a summary of the last month. Due to the volume of undiscussed goings-on I'll be breaking this into three entries: Denver to Chicago, onwards to Ann Arbor and then from leaving Ann Arbor to the arrival in Johnstown (including the blast from the past known as Akron). If you are bored and uninterested in one section feel free to wait (and most likely wait you will!) for the next installation. I'll let this introductory entry marinate on here for a day or so before the first section, just to tease my adoring audience and build your appetites for the juicy stories to come. Also I need more time to write! Hang in there and tune in tomorrow or so.