Wednesday, September 6, 2023

2023 Adventures

 Between getting an upper respiratory infection in July and still recovering from knee replacement last year, I would say that I have not gotten a lot of miles in this year. 

But, a week or so ago, I took a trip with the Mid-Ohio Bikers that was fantastic! 

One of our members had expressed a desire to ride the Greater Niagara Circle Route. Information on this route can be found on the Niagara Tourism web site here. 

We chose to start at Fort Erie, just after crossing the Peace Bridge into Canada. (Note - to do this tour you need a valid passport.)  We stayed at a hotel just past the bridge to get a good start in the morning. We rode the route counter-clockwise to put the 50-mile trip on the first day. 

The entire route follows along waterways, from the Niagara River, including Niagara Falls, to the Welland Canal.  Our hotel the second night was at Lock 7 on the canal.  We had a great view of several barges transversing the canal through the locks. 

We also saw a whirlpool, where the Niagara River changes direction.

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We had fantastic weather.  I took my husband along as a private SAG.  He followed behind or ahead of us for the two days and had a relaxing time.  If we had had more time, I would have visited the Niagara Parks school of horticulture.  As we rode our bicycles past, there was an intense fragrance emanating from the rose garden, it almost knocked me off my bicycle. 



Monday, June 26, 2023

GOBA 34 D5 & D6

 I am writing this post from the comfort of my kitchen table at home. I have finished my usual breakfast of  egg and oatmeal  and I am still sipping my brewed espresso.  Yes, I quit GOBA early.  It's raining outside and the weather predicts rain all day.  I am thinking of my friends who are still doing GOBA and wondering how their day is going. 


So here's what happened: 

Day 5.  

The route was a mandatory riding day, as we moved from Willoughby, Ohio, south to Kent.  Kent, as in Kent State University near Akron, Ohio.   The prevailing wind in Ohio is from the southwest, and it proved to be a day where that was true.  We didn't have high wind, but it was somewhat breezy. 

After taking down the tent and packing gear up, we started the day by pushing the bikes up the hill out of the park.  You can see the uphill road on the left side of the photo below. 


I stopped for a bagel and egg breakfast at a coffee shop in downtown Willoughby.  My friends are much faster riders than I am, so I worried with every bite I took that I was getting further and further behind. I knew the route was going to be hilly for the day from looking at the elevation map in RideWithGPS. 



I rode the first 10 miles, pushing my bike up the steepest parts of the first two big hills.  I rode most of the way up the gradual rises between miles 5 and 10.  I had to get off and walk several times.  My heart rate had still not returned to my normal resting heart rate of 70 from the day before.  When I got up it was still at 94.  So walking up the hills was frequently pushing it up to 120 plus.  I was really nervous at mile 10 where the hill was much longer and steeper than the first two.  Everyone was passing me.  "On your left!" "Passing" or just "Good Morning!" to let me know they were coming around.  Even the little kids were passing me, as well as the couples on tandems with their kids and riders who were 10 or even 20 years older than me.  By the time I got to Mile 10 at Chagrin falls I was hot and bothered.  A group of three people from Pittsburg that I had met the day before said they would ride with me. 


 Two of them were emergency room personnel in their day jobs.  One of them in particular (the lady on the fence) pledged to stay with me all the way.  I told her not to.  The lady in pink had snapped this picture of me riding past one of the buildings in Chagrin Falls and she shared it with me. 

I looked at the road snaking up a hill past the bridge.  I know that a "can do" attitude is the first prerequisite to doing anything, but in my heart of hearts, I knew that I could not do that hill and then continue uphill afterwards. 



I told them to go ahead.  I was going to call an Uber.  So I circled back to the library in Chagrin Falls and I locked up my bike.  I took a few minutes to cool off in the air-conditioned library and used the WiFi to work on previous blog posts.  I had no data on my phone in Willoughby, so I was feeling the need to get online.  After twenty minutes or so I installed the Uber app on my phone.  I ordered an XL ride (an SUV with 6 passenger capability) Everything went smoothly, the SUV driver said no problem carrying my bike.  I picked a destination that was before the lunch stop (I did not want to miss lunch again!) I would be missing the snack stop but that was OK because I had had the bagel for breakfast before I started.  My planned destination was the golf course on Aurora Road.  The driver dropped me off at a restaurant on a road that was a straight shot to rejoin the route. 

About a mile down the road, I heard "Brenda??????? Is that you????????"  from the rider behind me.  It was my friend Jody from our local bike club.  She was very surprised to see me in front of her, since she is a very strong rider who typically floats up the hills at home in Mansfield.  I explained how I had taken an Uber.  She was impressed that I thought of that.  She asked about where the lunch stop was.  It was about a half mile ahead.  She showed me her hand, it was shaking.  She was bonking.  I offered her a snack from my fanny pack, but she declined.  Good thing she refused, because I then realized I had forgotten to put any in it this morning. 

She went ahead.  When I arrived at the lunch stop I first stood in line at the Port-a-Johns.  I should have used the air-conditioned flush toilet in the bathroom at the library.  I went through the lunch line where they had pizza, hot dogs and watermelon. They also had ice cream but since I can't have dairy,  I skipped that option.  I looked for Jody in the picnic area, and found my other friends from the local club as well.  

A woman looked at me suspiciously and asked if I rode the whole way.  I just smiled at her.  

My other friend from the local bike club was not doing well after climbing the hills.  She prefers to ride on trails, not roads, and she is not as strong on hills.  She usually brakes going downhill.  It's important to get as much momentum as possible when riding "rollers" because the momentum can carry you up most of the next hill, if you are lucky.   She actually opted to SAG (accept a ride from the Support and Gear team) out. 

When you SAG, everyone says it's OK, but you know they are mentally assigning you to another category of rider.  It's not supposed to be a competitive ride, but some people act as if it is.  People are judging you all the time.  I heard later that there were several SAGs at that stop, and that there were multiple people who had SAGged  at the breakfast stop.  

After lunch, as I was riding out,  the Pittsburg group caught up with me.  They looked very flushed and tired, like everyone else, they had actually ridden the killer hills.  Judy again pledged to stay with me so I didn't have to ride alone.  

After lunch there was a stretch of country highway where road maintenance was being performed.  There were asphalt and tar on the road.  Some of them stuck to my wheel and then pinged off when they hit the forks.  To my untrained ear, it sounded like a spoke was breaking or something so I had to stop to check it out. There were a lot of big trucks carrying asphalt and road equipment thundering past.  There was also a giant farm tractor with disks folded up behind him to travel on the road.  I pulled off into a driveway so he could get by.  Judy had never seen one of these before, and she was speculating on what it was used for, so I explained it was to prepare the field for planting.   Pickup trucks with rednecks driving them sooted us and blared their horns at us.  There is an Ohio law that says when overtaking, you must give an audible alert.  I think the lawmakers intended a "Beep" not a "BLARE", as these trucks did.  One driver actually passed us blaring the horn, then turned into a barn driveway ahead of us, turned around and came back at us blaring the horn again.  A little bit scary, but also annoying.  We were single file when there was traffic, so we were obeying the law.  They acted as if we had no right to be on the road.   There were many hills on this stretch that I had to walk up and Judy walked along with me.  She was very encouraging "You got this!" "Keep going!"  She kept offering me a wet cloth but I just poured some water over my head.  I had three full bottles at the start of this stretch, but by the time we reached the water stop they were all empty.  Along this stretch a guy came up and told us he was the designated last rider. He passed us, so we became the last riders.  When we reached the water stop it was a few minutes after 5:00 and the Port-a-Johns were being loaded to be taken away.  The SAG volunteers did have water to refill a bottle. They told us they were working overtime and I asked if they were getting paid time and a half or doubletime - either way it was zero.   We debated about whether to ride the last 8-9 miles into Kent.  Judy's friends had gone ahead and were probably already in camp.  I don't know why she wanted to ride with me.  I felt guilty about holding her up, so I asked the volunteers if they would give us a ride "for free" since they were going that way anyway.  The team leader looked at me and said since it was such a hard ride today and so many people had SAGged, he would give us a freebie.  The official rule is that if you SAG twice, you are asked to leave the trip. It took a while to load Judy's bike as it was a different geometry and didn't fit the standard bike carrier.  Luckily the team leader had a different carrier in the back of his car, which they were able to install and then load her bike.    My driver was his wife. She and I  chatted while she took me back. She was a runner turned rider turned SAG driver.   Judy rode in the team leader's car, and since she was camping in the general area and I was in the Knight's Kingdom, we separated.   

After thanking the amateur radio operators for the lift, I picked up my luggage and looked for a spot to put up my tent.  I spotted a guy, John, who had camped near me the first night in Jefferson.  His tent was closest to the showers and Port-a-Pots.  I saw lots of the Knight's Kingdom luxury tents, but not a lot of tents from the tier of service I had subscribed to, which was bring your own tent and put it up yourself.  John pointed the way to the front of the park.  I took my bike back that way and observed all the tents pitched on the side of the hill.  Since my experience back at the fairgrounds,  trying to roll uphill in the middle of the night, I opted to return to the spot closest to the showers where John was camped.  It was flat but full of tree roots,  and there were a lot of carpenter ants running around with a lot of wood chips on the ground.  I secured my bike to a telephone pole and proceeded to put up my tent.  

Jody and Ruth, from my club, came by and asked if I wanted to walk a mile into town to get dinner with them.  I was still sweaty and in my riding shorts. They said they hadn't showered because they walked all the way from their tent, which was a half mile away, to shower, only to find out that the water was being tested and the showers were closed.  So they had changed clothes only.   They offered to bring me a hamburger if I wasn't up to walking.   

I got my tent up and gathered my things to take to the shower.  When I got there, a woman waiting there said there was no hot water, but they were working on it. Since my tent was only a few hundred feet away, and I could monitor the queue from my vantage spot, I elected to wait.  As soon as the hot water was fixed, I watched the queue get shorter, and then longer.  I was torn between taking a shower and missing Jody and Ruth when they  returned with my hamburger.  I decided to wait.  

It was getting late when they returned.  I went ahead and ate the hamburger while we chatted for a few minutes. They said goodbye when the kids working for  Knight's Kingdom came over and pitched their tents next to me and ran a noisy leaf blower to fill up their air mattresses.  Then the kids brought the takeout they had ordered from a Chinese place to the spot between my tent and John's and sat on the ground.  They had no utensils to eat with, and the shashimi was missing, so there was general chaos.  I had only used my fork so I offered them my spoon and knife.   I decided my best course of action was to go and get my shower.  My phone was not charging from my battery banks, so I assumed they must be dead.  I took them to the charging station where there was a complete mess of splitters plugged in.  I plugged my phone directly into an extension cord running into the building.   After my shower I went back and switched the phone with one of the battery banks. 

When I got back the kids were gone but they had left a container of egg drop soup on the ground.   I sat in my chair for a few minutes and played Wordle on my phone.  (I had data again!)  When one of the kids came by I pointed out the soup container and they took it away.  Then I went into my tent and fell asleep.

Day 6. 

I rolled over in my tent.  I could barely move my shoulder.  Several months ago I had visited the doctor because of sleeping "wrong" on my arm and pinching something.  I couldn't lift my arm past a certain point then, and it felt exacttly the same on this morning.  He had prescribed muscle relaxers, but not only did I not have them with me, they would not be a viable option on a day where I needed to ride my bike. I wondered how I would perform my usual awkward move of rolling over into "downward facing dog" position to walk my hands up and back out of my tent, if I couldn't even move my arm. I rested a few minutes, gingerly moving my arm up to the limit and trying to move it past the sore place.  I realized that during the night, I had gotten crossways of my Thermarest air mattress and had been lying half-on and half-off the mattress.  My whole body ached, including my hips, from walking way more than I usually do on this trip.  It took a full half hour of small movements before I tried to get myself out of the tent.  

I got dressed and walked down to the Port-a-John area. A woman waiting in line for the toilet told me she was dropping out and looking for a ride back to Jefferson. We exchanged phone numbers.  Then I headed over to the area where John had indicated breakfast would be served.  It was across several parking lots, in a pavilion within the metropark.When I arrived, I learned they were out of coffee, but more was coming.  I hung around and two of my friends from our local club showed up.  Eventually the promised coffee arrived and I meandered over to the food table.  They were out of bananas and muffins.  That is all I noticed that they had on offer. 

I drank my coffee and decided to ride my bike into town and explore what was for breakfast.  The ride scheduled for today was optional, and with the aches in my body I decided it was not an option for me.  I needed a day of rest.  I debated leaving the trip.  The weather for Friday and Saturday was supposed to be rainy.  Did I really want to tough it out?  I mentioned to my friends that I was thinking of dropping out.  

As I walked back to my tent and my bike, I ran into Sue, the woman who, along with her husband, had convinced me to SAG in two days before.  I told her I was thinking of dorpping out, and she suggested putting a notice on the bulletin board to share a ride back to the starting point, where my car was parked. I told her about the woman who was looking for a ride and said we could share an Uber.  

A few minutes later I got a text from the first woman, who had already found a ride.  Then I got a text from Sue.  She had arrived back to her tent and found a couple that had already called a cab.  The cab would be there in half an hour.  I needed to make a decision.  

So I decided to take the cab ride.   Nothing for me to do to arrange it except grab my car keys.  My share of the cab ride turned out to cost more than a solo Uber trip, but it really didn't matter at that point.  The ride to Jefferson was uneventful.  I got in my car, said goodbye to the other two,  and drove back to Kent.  At some point I was driving along the optional bike route for the day and I passed a few cyclists.  Downtown seemed like a lot of heavy traffic.  I was able to park my car a few steps from my tent and take it down, pack my suitcases, etc.  Once that was done, I thought about riding my bike around Kent but it seemed like another hassle.  Did I mention I was tired?  I texted my friends that I was leaving.  

I learned later that the next day the forecasted rain for Friday did not come.  The ride to the fairgrounds in Burton was easier than the last ride I had taken, although it was hot.  Because of the forecasted rain, the GOBA organization was able to get the fairgrounds to open up another building for inside camping. They said the last day ride was an easy one, although they did have to ride in the rain. 

And so ends the Great Ohio Bicycle Adventure of 2023.  In my case, I will remember it as The Great Ohio Bicycle Ordeal.  It was an ordeal for me mostly because I wasn't conditioned enough, and there were a host of reasons for that, but the bottom line was I was not in the best shape of my life. I'd had the knee replacement in November and my brother-in-law's death in May.   I didn't put my bike through a safety check before leaving, and it probably could have used new tires before the trip, although if I ran over some glass it might not have prevented the flat.   It was also an ordeal because of lack of information,  cold weather the first night,  long walks, too much sudden elevation change, showers and toilets being out of order,  towel service not being available, and having to find food on my own. 

It was also fun at times.  Despite living in Ohio most of my adult life, I had never been to Fairport Harbor or Willoughby, which seemed like charming towns.  The covered bridges in Ashtabula County were very picturesque and the weather the first couple of days was just about perfect for a bike ride.  I met a lot of really nice people, and got to know my existing friends better. 


















Wednesday, June 21, 2023

GOBA 34 D3 and 4

 So yesterday was beautiful.


  I experienced a Zen moment when rolling downhill for miles.  The sky was blue, the grass was green, pedaling was easy, and flowers were blooming along the side of the road.  There was a long downhill for several miles.  Pedalling was easy.




I was having a wonderful day.  


About half a mile from the end of the route,  I noticed some young boys, about 8-10 years old, playing football in the front of their house.  They asked me if I wanted some water and held up a bottled water.  I checked my water, and I still had half a bottle , so I thanked them but said "no".  Then I heard a pop like a cap gun, and I thought maybe they were shooting at me.  Within a few seconds I realized that my back wheel sounded funny, so I stopped.   Sure enough I had a flat tire.  I was only 1/2 mile from GOBAville, where there was a mobile bike store.  I had several options.  I had a patch kit for a tube.  I've changed tires before, in the cool comfort of my husband's garage, with the bike in a stand, and my husband at my elbow correcting me when I was about to do something wrong.  I haven't ever changed a tire at the side of the road in the hot sun.  I also had a spare tube, but I wasn't sure if it was in the bottom of the pannier on my bike, or the identical pannier that I had left in camp.  So I could unload the pannier and root around in the hopes of finding a tube that didn't need patching, but I would still be changing the rear tire at the side of the road.  A couple stopped and the man offered to help me change the tire.  I told  him about hearing the pop, and he said, "Oh, that's bad.  Sounds like a blowout." So he started looking for a hole in the sidewall, but instead he found a gash about an inch and a half long in the center of the tire.  He said, "well, you can't do any more damage to that tire by pushing it." And he and his wife continued on their way.  I kept pushing the bike.  Riders kept passing me and asking if I needed help... 

After pushing for about 1/4 mile, I rounded the turn into the fairgrounds.  At about the same time a pickup slowed down and asked me if I wanted a ride in to the fairgrounds.  It was one of the riders who had asked if I was OK.  His name was Don and he was from Toledo.  I accepted and he loaded my bike and he took me directly to the bike store's mobile shop.  So nice of him to offer this practical help. 

 The poor young man in the tent was overwhelmed with doing intake, as riders rolled in from the day's ride. His boss has gone for a break and he was working all alone.   He didn't have time to fix anything, he was just taking orders.

I left my bike with him and walked up to my part of the campground. I showered, then  I got a text from my friend from our bike club that she had arrived and was with another friend. They were in the lower half of the fairgrounds.   I let them know that I thought dinner was at the expo center, and they should come up to the main entrance.  Dinner was being provided by GOBA, and was catered by the same Mexican restaurant we had eaten at the night before.  The line was already a quarter of a mile long.  



The caterers were half an hour late in arriving, but once they got there, they moved the line along very efficiently.  It's hard to visualize 1100 people lined up to eat dinner.  The inside of the Expo building was full.


When we left there were still people queued up to get their food. 



 We moved to another building on the fairgrounds where there was a wine-tasting from area vineyards and an entertainer.  I received a troubling phone call from a family member so I missed some of his performance.  



Afterwards I went to pick up my bike.  It wasn't done, but they told me to come back in an hour.  It was a long walk from the bike shop tent, so I wandered over to a barn where 4-H kids were practicing barrel racing, as I had done when I was a kid.  My friend joined me and we chatted until the appointed time. 

When is arrived to pick up my bike, the owner had it ready.  He was explaining the difference between my old tire and the new one I had chosen from the three that the young man had offered me.  I told him it didn't matter because I considered this a temporary repair, since I planned to buy Vittoria Raddoneurs like I had on my other touring bike.  He said he wished he had known that because he had some of those In stock.  But it turned out, not in my size.  But he has a perfectly acceptable substitute,Michelin puncture-resistant ones.  So he said he could install them in a minute or two.  He also told me that my cassette was dangerously loose, and that he had fixed it.  Probably saved my life at some hypothetical point  in the future.  And he only charged me $5 for that service.

So it was a blessing that my tire had a blowout.


Today, Day 4, was not a great day.  It was a long day, a 50-mile ride.  I was up at 4:30 to pack my things, eat breakfast, and get my bags to the loading spot for the truck.  Somehow it was 7:00 before I left.  I thought I hit a high point on the route where it would be all downhill after a few miles, and I texted my husband with a screen print and a photo.




 

But I was mistaken.  Shortly after the rest stop there was a sharp downhill with a curve, immediately followed by an  uphill with a 12 % grade.

Everyone walked uphill.  There was no time to shift into a lower gear after the downhill.  There were a lot of smaller hills. 

It turned into a very hot day.  The community organizations in Fairport Harbor prepared a lunch (for 1100 people) that included cabbage rolls that I can say were some of the best I had ever had.  After lunch we rode past a lighthouse.  Fairport Harbor seemed like a really nice town to come back and tour some day when we have more time. 


I stopped at a gas station and bought some sunscreen as the sun was shining very brightly and I could feel my skin crisping up after a couple of days of riding with no sunscreen.  The temperature was 82 degrees.  The route turned to the west and we had a breeze from the east, so I was looking forward to a tailwind.  There were a few hills along the way and the car traffic was really heavy with semi trucks, gravel wagons, and cement trucks blasting by. 

I started having difficulty breathing and climbing the hills.  There was a couple from Xenia riding near me.  I later learned their names were Mike and Sue.  They noticed my difficulty and insisted that I stop in the shade across the street.  They wanted me to sit down in the shade, but I had trouble doing that because of my recent knee surgery, and to be honest, my weight, so we just stood there.   Mike wanted to take my pulse but I told him I could get it from my Fitbit.  It showed 130 even after resting for several minutes, but finally fell to 120.  My normal resting heart rate is 75.  They told me they had just heard of a rider having a massive coronary after complaining of being short of breath.  So, they insisted that I call the SAG wagon.  I consented.  I had ridden about 36 miles. 

The SAG (Support and Gear) driver came, drove me to the rest stop, then transferred me to another SAG driver.   All the SAGs for the GOBA official ride are amateur radio operators volunteering their time for the whole week. They are "people" people.  

GOBAville was set up in a park in Willoughby.  As we drove through downtown, I noticed that it looked like a a charming town with numerous restaurants. 

When we arrived, I went to sit down for a while.   My heart rate did not go down immediately.  It was jumping back and forth between 110-120.  I walked across the paved area to a Port-a-john and back and my heart was racing again.  I visited the medical tent where a doctor examined me, took a history, and told me I was probably just dehydrated.   She said if she had any IV's there she would put me on one, but she did not. So her prescription was to go and sit down and drink at least six bottles of water.

The sun was still blazing down.  Luckily the "Knights Kingdom" where my tent was set up was not too far away from the medical RV.  I got my luggage, took my tent out and pegged the corners to establish my camp spot, then took out my chair and went to rest under the canopy. 

 I drank four bottles of cold water there, adding NUUN tablets to two of them.  I just sat there for a few hours.  My friends came by and asked about me.  They told me that due to the way the GOBA people had laid out the various areas, the showers were up 96 steps.  Other people mentioned 93 steps, some said 98.    No way was I going to do that, with the sun blazing down.  Finally as the sun was starting to go down,  I gathered my things to go up to the shower truck.   I found a way where the incline was less.   It was quite steep, regardless.  As I walked up I noticed the arrows painted on on the pavement indicating that is where we would leave to go ride the next day.   My mental reaction was totally irrational, I got MAD.  I knew I would NOT be able to ride up out of the camping area, I would have to push my bike.  After my shower, I walked down to the village, found a restaurant that looked likely.  Had a great kale salad with salmon.  A couple of glasses of wine, then walked back to GOBA and fell into my tent and fell asleep immediately. 





Monday, June 19, 2023

GOBA 2023 Day 2

 My ride today was approximately 30 miles.

We saw covered bridges.  


One bridge was very short.   It was built by the local vocational school to gives students experience in engineering and building bridges.


  The GOBA routes were for 30 or 50 miles.  Since the ride on Tuesday is mandatory of 50 miles, I thought I should not push my endurance to the limit by doing to 50- mile trip today. 

It was still a beautiful ride. 



Last week I clumsily bruised my hip, and on this trip I found that starting my bike from a stop causes pain as I shift my weight onto the right pedal.   So I'm trying to pace myself.

I found out at the 25-mile mark , where I was expecting lunch, that lunch was not available on the short route. 

This have me pause to reflect on my overall satisfaction with the trip.   

The night before I was very uncomfortable camping. It was unseasonably cold.  I wore my rain jacket over my pj's to bed.   My tent site (and I chose it) was a little sloped and had uneven spots.  All I did all night was toss and turn.  Every time I rolled over, my Therma-rest mattress went one way and my silk mummy-style sleeping bag went the other. I tried to put everything back together and roll the other way, and I ended up trying to roll uphill.  At my age and level of joint stiffness, that was quite a chore.  My foot , inside the sleeping bag, got up against the sidewalk of the tent and the heavy dew soaked through the tent wall into my sleeping bag.  I awoke, cold and miserable, with wet feet, at 52 degrees. I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and had similar issues, plus some leg cramping.   I must be a little dehydrated from being out in the wind all day.    So I got up on the wrong side of the bed, so to speak.

Why don't they have lunch for riders on the shorter routes?  What kind of reference to all bodies on bikes is that?

Anyway, I ended up eating  lunch at a Taco Bell, leaving the planned route for a quarter mile, before finishing the last five miles.  I was hot and tired when I arrived back at the campground.  I sat in the shade and drank some water. Before gathering my things to use the shower truck.  The mobile shower truck can be seen just behind the rainbow-colored mobile apartment unit in the photo below.


This type of shower unit was developed after hurricane Katrina, according to the vendor who was monitoring the queues of the 1000 people lined up for the 24 shower stalls over a couple of hours.  

A friend from my local club arrived this afternoon, so I had dinner with her.  We went to the Mexican restaurant that I had passed on the way to the Strawberry festival last night.  She was pleased with her vegan dinner, and I had seafood tacos.  They weren't like any other shrimp tacos I ever had, but they hit the spot.

Then we revisited the strawberry festival, and finally walked across to the park where the opening ceremony took place. 

The director of the ride apologized for the disorganization that many riders had experienced.  He explained that this is the first time in the northeast corner of the state for many years.  In contrast to previous years where GOBA was welcomed in the towns visited as an economic boon to the community, in Northeast Ohio, the reaction was like "What's GOBA?" 

After his speech and some recognitions, there was musical entertainment.  My friend and I did not stay, but rode back to camp. 


Saturday, June 17, 2023

GOBA 2023

 I arrived in Jefferson, Ohio, today for the 2023 Great Ohio Bicycle Adventure.   I picked up my registration packet and talked to Penny briefly while buying a T-shirt.  

 I was wearing my Mid-Ohio Bikers jersey, and she mentioned that she really enjoyed riding the Fall'N'Leaf ride that the club has sponsored every year until this year.  She wondered if the drop in attendance might be due to the change of TOSRV from spring to fall.  Something to think about and discuss with the club.   

I set up my tent where I was directed by the Knight's Kingdom.  I subscribed to the lower-tier "bring your own tent" service.   The big benefit of this for me is the closeness of my designated spot to the Porta-Johns for middle of the night trips, and that they provide fresh towel service daily.  They also provide camp chairs and snacks, and a sitting area with a canopy for shade. 


One of the other members of our club subscribed to the top-tier service. Her rented tent was put up by the Boy Scouts before she arrived.  I ran into the MOB bike club secretary, who is camping in the big general camping area at the fairgrounds. After unloading and parking my car, I got one of the chairs from the Knight's Kingdom.  I set it up next to my tent.  I sat down.  I couldn't get up.  After my knee replacement surgery last winter, I do not have full range of motion in my knees. I can't get enough leverage to push up out of the chair.  One of my fellow campers came by eventually and, although I was embarrassed, I asked her to help me get out of the chair.  I took the chair back to the "headquarters" of Knight's kingdom and looked for one of the chairs specifically made for heavier people.  My weight is just around the standard chair limit, so I thought perhaps an oversized chair might work.  I asked the young woman manning the booth if I could sit in one they already had set up as a trial, explaining that she might have to help me up.  No good.  I could not stand up out of the chair.  She had to help me.  She was very thin, and looked a little weak, and I wasn't sure if she could get me out.  (I later learned her name was Rose.)  But with just a small boost from her, I was able to stand up.  I went back and got my own camping chair out of my bag.  I was really glad I brought it.  The seat is not so deep, and I can rock forward as I rise, so I knew that it would be the chair I would use for the rest of the trip. 

Being an overweight cyclist in a camp full of 1100 other cyclists, most of whom are very athletic, I have to spend time and energy on things that they don't give a thought to.  Like what chair to sit in. 

 I rode into town looking for a bite to eat.  

 The town of Jefferson is holding its annual Strawberry Festival.  This is held at the Depot Village, a cluster of historical buildings dating from the late 1800s.  I rode in search of the festival, hoping  to find a food truck. 

On the way, I nearly ran over a cell phone lying in the street.   I picked it up so that it wouldn't get run over.  I found the Depot Village, and was immediately struck by the aromas emanating from a food truck serving smoked and barbecued meat, which I can't eat any more since my stomach surgery.    

The next thing I saw was the restored train depot.


The inside held mannequins who were dressed in reproductions of 1880's fashions.   I was entranced, as this is very similar to what Katy Kelly would have seen as she embarked on her trips to teach sock knitting.  



The museum held photos of the employees of the train station from 1890's, and a railroad map.


  The docent was very knowledgeable of the railroad history.  The mobile phone rang While I was speaking with him.  I answered and told the owner where I was and that he could pick up his phone at the train depot.  He wanted me to bring it to him-really?  The docent agreed to give the phone to the owner and put it in a drawer.  They were having strawberry shortcake in one room.  I chose not to partake, and wandered through the rest of the village.

There was a general store. More 1800's fashions were displayed, as well as a reproduction Sears catalog.  I looked for advertisements of knitting machines but found only socks, mittens, and sewing machines. 

The re-enacter in the general store was trying to tune a violin, but broke a string, so instead we were treated to music from a hurdy-gurdy. It operated by turning a crank, like a bicycle or a circular sock knitting machine.


A matchbox keeper was on the counter.  

The bicycle pictured is a called a penny-farthing, for the relative sizes of the front and back wheels.  The reenactor had a reproduction of one outside, which he rides when he's not playing the hurdy-gurdy.


There was a table at the far end of the festival  manned by the local genealogy society.  I took a business card to follow up on a possible connection between the Mrs. Fettig who sewed the clothes in the railroad depot and the Fettig who rented the top floor of the Franz and Pope factory in Bucyrus.

I stopped to have my photo taken at the photo-op spot.  





There didn't seem to be other food options at the festival.
Other options in town for eating were a Mexican restaurant, a diner, a Subway, and McDonalds. There were lots of bikes at all of them, and a line queued outside the diner. I chose the Subway.  


It was getting chilly as the sun went down. I sat on a bench at one of the fair buildings for a while, then I went to my tent. I put on an extra T-shirt and my rain jacket, and crawled inside my sleeping bag.  

More tomorrow 






Monday, April 17, 2023

Bike Club

 I was elected as President of the Mid-Ohio Bikers this year.  One of the first things I asked for from the outgoing President was a copy of the by-laws. 

It turns out that the by-laws are out of date, having been written in the 1970's and as far as I know have never been updated since. The club has operated very informally for many years. 

So I am now drinking out of a firehose. Learning about club insurance programs, incorporation as a non-profit, and liability as a director or officer.  Some club members were advocating to disband the club since no one was stepping up to be the next president. 

It is interesting, but it is a lot to digest.  I would be interested in how other clubs are organized.  There is not enough time in the day. 

I am working as hard as I was when I was getting paid. 


A group of us went riding last week when the weather was good.  Today it is snowing. 




Friday, March 24, 2023

2023 Adventures

 Between getting an upper respiratory infection in July and still recovering from knee replacement last year, I would say that I have not go...