Tunnels of West Virginia

For most of the way between the Ohio River and Clarksburg, WV I used
the 72-mile North Bend rail trail which includes 9 dark, damp, echo-
filled, spooky tunnels. People have often asked me on this trip if I
get scared out there all by myself. Up until now I always said no
without a second thought. Those tunnels, though, were scarey. Some are
as short as 300 feet, but at least 3 of them were longer than 1000
feet, one nearly a half-mile long. Some had a couple inches of water
through long stretches, some had a couple inches of mud I tromped my
way through. I had to dismount and walk through many of them, and
there were a couple occasions when I couldn't see the light at either
end from the dark, dark middle. I bought fresh batteries for my
headlight at the only store in Cairo after the first tunnel.

The western half of the trail is in pretty good shape, but things get
rougher in the east. If I were to do it again, I don't think I'd use
the whole trail without some knobby tires. I was fine, but it was
rough riding in sections.

Yesterday, the rain (and the hills...and the narrow roads with coal
trucks) slowed things down for me and I only made it 32 miles to
Grafton. Today (through more rain), I'll hit the far western Maryland
state line and may end up in West Virginia again. West Virginia is the
only state which is entirely within a mountain range. I'm not seeing
any high peaks in this part of the state, but the terrain is rugged
and the ups and downs are steep and unrelenting.

Athens being the exception

I had a real nice visit with some old friends (Dan, Amy, and little
Elise) who I've known from both Austin and Silicon Valley. Athens (in
southeast Ohio, at the edge of Appalachia) is a university town with
more granola eating citizenry than gun-toting folks, a big contrast
compared to the rest of the Ohio I pedaled through.

Ohio was hard

Ohio, though its roads were infinitely better than those of
neighboring Michigan, was hard on me. Nowhere in the United States
have I been honked at and cursed out as much as in Ohio.

Headlines to go

This newspaper is from a few days ago, picked up in Dodgeville,
Wisconsin, but the headline is one worth remembering. I've seen great
signs of things to come for cylists who use their bikes for
transportation. The separate infrastructure in Madison made a strong
impression on me. The Southwest Commuter Path in that city rides like
a legit bicycle freeway, with onramps and exists, a stripe down the
middle to keep traffic organized, and hundreds of cyclists enjoying
their ride to and from work, school, errands, etc. I was told it even
gets plow service in the winter--amazing. The exit ramps have real
street signs making it easy to navigate. Planners: if cycling
infrastructure is built to help people do things they already need to
do, it will be used.

Majestic Plaza Tuesday Morning

Strip malls under grey skies on Tuesday morning headed out of East
Lansing toward Ann Arbor. As you can see, the camera wouldn't even
work right, which was an apt fit for my low spirits. Michigan has not
been easy.

This morning in Ann Arbor, though, things look decidedly rosier.
Special thanks to Lynn and family for a comfortable night in the
executive suite guestroom of their home; and to Kayo for riding with
me into town from Dexter on what has definitely been the prettiest
part of my Michigan transversal.

On that note, I can't forget to thank Dee in Cobb, WI, Rachael in
Madison, and Leigh & Kris in Grand Rapids, MI. Since entering these
populated areas of the eastern Midwest, I've stayed with some families
from warmshowers.org, a website with the specific purpose of arranging
hosts for cyclists on long journeys.

Farewell, Wisconsin

Wisconsin was a blur, and Michigan's turning out to be the same
(though trickier to navigate). Robin met me in Milwaukee for a couple
of days off in that surprisingly beautiful city. There's plenty to
say, but I'll spend the time saying it at a later date. The photo here
is from the ferry across Lake Michigan from Milwaukee, WI to Muskegon,
MI.

Checking in and road names

Ah, the roadside payphone. A lot of towns in the west no longer even
have one; or they do and there's no longer service to it. Tonight's
payphone in Cobb, WI worked like a charm with my calling card so I
could check in with my sweetie from afar as cell service is very
spotty here.

My ride today was gorgeous, 63 miles on an alphabet of smooth, hilly,
trafficless county roads: C, S, M, G, and Q. The Wisconsin naming
convention is nice--rather than "X16" or "A52" like Iowa county roads,
the simple letters in Wisconsin are actually used by the locals when
giving directions. In other states, paved county roads often have two
names, like "Middle Calmar Road" (which locals recognize) and
"W38" (which is printed on maps and no one has ever heard of). You can
probably see how the Wisconsin version makes understanding where you
are a lot easier for a traveling cyclist.