Disaster #1 Strikes

8/23/10

Day 2: Weldon Springs to the banks of the North Fork of the Vermillion River (outside of Forrest, IL)

     The morning was brisk, and it took me a while to find my rhythm. I had to do a lot of short jaunts north and east to get out of the park area, and it seemed like I was putting in a lot of effort and not moving too far on the map.

     Before long, the sun had risen higher in the sky and I had found harmony between my body, the cycle, the road, and the scene to which it was all connected. I biked past a field of horses and stopped to say hi. They were very friendly and the whole thing made me think of Molly and Strider and how the two of them helped me overcome my fear of horses. That's right, Strider. You may be gone, but you are not forgotten.

     About 10 miles outside of Gibson City, my first "disaster" struck. I shifted down and felt a weird jolt, followed by an odd wobbling. My initial thought was that it was a flat tire, but upon inspection, the pressure was fine. I decided I must be crazy and tried to kick off only to realize that I couldn't pedal. The rear wheel was locked up.

     I looked back and was appalled to see that it had fallen out of the drop out. The quick release was not tightened enough, and with as much weight as I had on the back, it gave under the pressure.

     The sun was high and there was no shade in sight. I unloaded my bike and made a pile on the side of the highway. At this point I was quite hot and bothered, because I was on day TWO of the trip and I was stuck on the side of the road with a broken bike in the blazing sun. I had a long way to go, and this was certainly a test of how much I could trust my bike and my own repair skills.

     I flipped my bike upside down and was relieved to find that it was a quick fix. I rode it around before loading up the gear just to make sure it was safe. It passed my safety tests with flying colors.

     I stopped for water in the small town of Strawn, and I chose a house with two barking dogs in front for some reason. I definitely picked the right house in this town of less than 100 residents. Bruce and his daughter Amanda were very nice and they offered me not only water, but chips, homemade salsa (from their MASSIVE garden), and... A BEER.

     I told Bruce that I was planning on sleeping down by a river about 15 miles up the road that I had seen on my map, and I asked him if he thought that was a good idea. He said he knew the family who owned the farm on either side of the river and that it shouldn't be a problem.

     One thing that I found noteworthy (other than their warm generosity and conversation) was that when I asked Bruce about places to get food in the next town, he (a farmer with one of the most impressive gardens I've ever seen, full of more fresh food than he knows what to do with...) recommended to me McDonalds, Burger King, or if I wanted to "think outside the bun", Taco Bell.

     I declined the offer for another beer and was on my merry way, feeling quite thankful and completely alive, having just connected with another human being... a stranger. 

     I stopped in Forrest, IL and got some instant easy mac and filled up my thermos with hot water from a gas station, just as Jeffrey from the Denver Bike Co-op had advised me to do. Thanks for the tip Jeffrey!

     "It was getting darker and darker, and I still had not found the river crossing that Bruce had promised. The sun had been tucked away by the corn stalks, and I was clinging on to the last lingering moments of light, afraid of being on the road at night. I didn't want that.

     In the very last moments of dusk, before the pale light would be extinguished by a powerful darkness, I found the river. I crossed it and went about 50 yards east off the highway, along the edge of a field that was in fallow, just as Bruce had instructed.  There, I went into the tall grass lining the river and laid my bike on its side and spread out my tarp. I used the hot water to prepare my easy mac and enjoyed it with a tortilla and some fresh homemade salsa from Bruce as darkness swallowed the flat landscape."