Duh Moments and Brief Pettiness

With age comes the ability to add to life’s “duh moments”  and I have managed to create and collect an abundant supply. Rather than deny them it is helpful to reflect and review increasing the possibility of not repeating and replicating any. Some of my favorite and recent ones are listed below.

“What do they need your MOS (military occupation specialty) in Vietnam for?” That’s what the recruiter said when I inquired as a callow nineteen year old in October of 1965. By July of 1966 I knew well what the need was and what the likelihood was of returning. One bit of justice and perhaps a duh moment for the recruiter was his receipt of orders to Vietnam soon after I returned Stateside in July of ’67. How fortunate was he to get to be there in time for the Tet Offensive launched on January 30, 1968? Anyone curious about that time should read Nelson DeMille’s outstanding novel Up Country, a detective novel which touches dramatically on his experience with the 1^st Cavalry Divison (Airmobile).

Why would I expect someone proud of never having to pay for unemployment to treat me differently from anyone else? “Duh” on me for thinking that her statement “Do what you need to do” was encouragement rather than a challenge.

OK . . . maybe I am being petty . . . Nah!

I had a duh moment while cycling today and that stirred thoughts about other moments when I should have known better or anticipated the result. The above have little to do directly with cycling, but the following comment about Messenger Mirror does. Thanks for bearing with my tangents.

I have used Messenger Mirror exclusively when riding my Touring bike and I do so because the little thing works. My single criticism was that it vibrated significantly on rough roads. Still, I observed, that did not prevent me from knowing something was behind me, only that I could not determine the make and model of what was following.

On my ride this summer I had less vibration, even on South Carolina’s sometimes corduroy-like roads, because the way I wore my helmet caused the metal arm to touch its underside. This contact point reduced the vibration significantly. Back home, where I frequently ride the Touring bike sans helmet in open defiance of common sense, the vibration returned. Apparently I was also wearing my helmet differently. I didn’t make the obvious connection until I was adjusting the Messenger Mirror’s positioning on my Opticnerve sunglasses. Now I have no criticism. Helmeted or not MM works just fine! Below is an image of my current use of this neat thing.

I also have failed to include enough comments about Aero Tech Designs, a maker of bicycle clothing and accessories. Located in Coraopolis, PA, their stuff is American made and fully competitive in price and quality with any brand of cycling gear. Before my summer tour I purchase three of their Tech Cargo Short - Padded for Bicycling, two in black and one in charcoal. The fit is fine. They are comfortable and utilitarian, allowing me to enter convenience stores without attracting stares and even to go into restaurants and look almost like other customers. The padding in the tight undergarment is more than adequate.

I also acquired a set of Aero Tech’s Stretch Fleece, Double Layer Knee, Leg Warmers because sometimes it actually gets cold in this part of Florida. Since many days start in the 40s then warm into the 60s and 70s, tights seemed like overkill. I prefer wearing shorts as often as possible and leg warmers looked like a viable option even if I choose to wear ordinary shorts when I am commuting or just going to the grocery store.

Standing six feet four inches I figured I needed to order XL Tall which have a non-stretch length of 32 ¾ inches. My inseam is a bit longer than that. After getting and using them I guess I could have managed with L Tall, but the length is not at all a negative as I like the way the length allows the warmers to fit. As far as cold functionality, they are ideal. I cannot imagine it getting cold enough here (20s, being the usual lowest temperatures and then only for a matter of a few days) to warrant wearing anything else. They fit well enough and tight enough to work under jeans without causing constriction and bunching.

Another of the products like Messenger Mirror that just do what they are supposed to do. Both Messenger Mirror and Aero Tech’s clothing are worth having and using.

And 920 miles by Greyhound . . .

Before talking about my Greyhound adventure I need to 'splain what's happening.

My bike was supposed to be disassembled and shipped to Bikes and More. It arrived at my home. Argh! Now I was faced with having to get it to where it needed to be. Additionally, there were no wheels! <sigh> Island Bikes, to whom I initially expressed great frustration allowed as how it was their error, but that agreeing to disassemble and package the bike was the first error. Getting the bike to my FNBS will be accomplished soon. They received my wheels and agreed with all previous observations that the rear one was broken more severely than was typical. It no rests with Salsa, manufacturer of the rim, to decide how to handle the matter.

The Schwinn is serving well, though lack of fenders is close to being a severe problem. I'd forgotten how nasty road grit gets when it rains. I hope to find some closure for the transportation matters soon.

And the roof leaks. Have to deal with the roofers, too . . . soon, I hope. 
 

Was it a life changing event? No, but there have been many things to consider how they may or may not apply to everyday life. But first, a word from our sponsor . . . Greyhound

The last time I rode a Greyhound bus may have been nearly a half century ago in the 60s. There were few options for my return to FL and Greyhound seemed to be the best. In the years since my last ride many things have changed. Remarkably, much has not.

The nearest “terminal” was Washington, NC, known as Little Washington to the locals. A three hour drive (give or take). The nearer pick-up location was just that, a pick-up. Stand outside a store and wait, ticket in hand, for a bus to arrive. I opted for the stop at B & L Properties where tickets could be purchased. Seemed more like a terminal. It was, but barely.

B & L may have been the couple behind the counter when I arrived at 10am for my 1050 bus. A partially converted service station (with two bays) provided indoor seating. Assorted vehicles and other equipment in stages of repair filled the service bays. My bags were labeled and the second bag paid for ($10 please) after being told to clip one front roller to one back roller so I would not have to pay for three extra bags. Seemed like good advice. The bus arrived 55 minutes late. It had been three hours late the previous day. A connection was scheduled for Raleigh at 3 pm and we were to arrive there at 2 pm, so maybe the connection would be made.

I was surprised to find that there were both 100 volt sockets and that the bus provided a WiFi signal and took advantage to charge my cell phone. Because of the WiFi connection I was also able to maintain cellular coverage where it would not have existed otherwise.

The bus passed through the home of the East Carolina University Pirates and it was no surprise that it resembled Stateboro, GA, home ot the Georgia Southern Eagles and El Sombrero, home of my favorite Mexican food. We arrived in Raleigh minute before 3 pm, but it mattered not. A bus already at the terminal (a real terminal) was being searched for a possible bomb. This must have been a common occurrence as there was police presence but little overt evidence of concern. The new bus departed at 345pm, but not until the baggage handler took exception to my bags. “I know what you did,” he hissed. “But I’ll load ‘em.” And he did with an intention aggressive disregard.

Soon after leaving the Raleigh terminal the drive announced that the bus was a local, meaning we would visit, briefly, every moderate sized city in north and central NC. He also made several allusions to the presidential race, noting that whites were attempting to keep blacks from voting. Maybe I had been alone too long. His rambling monologue made little sense.

Charlotte, too, was a real terminal. Like Raleigh and it was run down but clean. Sandwiches priced no more than twice their reasonable value. Captive audience means captive money. A strip of sockets, identified as a charging station, soon looked like a Smart Phone grazing area. Few people showed any concern about their equipment’s safety. Obviously, this was not a new experience for the majority of bus travelers.

From Charlotte the ride to ATL was swift, arriving around 230am. I expected the old Greyhound station, but found that it now existed as part of the Garnett Street MARTA facility. My stay here would be about 4 hours. Knowing I was closer to being home did not make the wait any easier. Compared to the old Atlanta bus terminal . . . no comparison. Clean. Bright. Reasonably safe with one or more MARTA and ATL police officers in evidence. At intervals over the hours, travelers would queue at numbered doors. The overly large police officer would run a metal detection wand near their pockets. I could hear no difference in sound, but he often paused and asked for pockets to be emptied. Don’t want anyone commandeering a Greyhound with a fingernail file. Wait, maybe I need to be more serious! Hard to be. After 430 am he checked no one else. Had the perceived threat left for Alabama earlier on the morning?

The trip to G’ville was uneventful and done on schedule. The bus had sockets and WiFi, but I was too weary to do more than charge my phone. I could do the ATL-Gville trip again. Most of the rest? Not in this lifetime.

Here are some of the things I took away from the numerous hours in the custody of Greyhound:

1. Passengers are too accustomed to being treated with little regard. Some of this is because of the quality of the passengers. Most is not. Who cares about bus travelers. Real people use airplanes. Common people learn to accept mediocre treatment because there is no recourse? Like the baggage guy. I did what I was told to do and he assumed I was trying to get away with something. Should I respect that he was protecting his company’s assets? Only if he referred me to the baggage people for more money. Otherwise he was just being difficult.
2. Lacking any actual luggage one can still travel by bus. A tall kitchen trash can and a mostly intact cardboard box can be nearly closed with sufficient tape to hold just about anything.
3.  Having too many pieces of “luggage” is commonplace. See the comment above.
4.  There is almost enough room on the aisle seat on modern buses to make it nearly possible to sleep for as much as an hour, though not necessarily in concurrent minutes.
5.  If it is present Greyhound WiFi works.

Just more of the adventure.

Day 10, Conway, SC to Sunset Beach, NC – 43.67 miles, average speed 11.7 mph. Total miles, 694

Leaving Conway was a chore. I got on the road in the midst of morning rush hour (7:40) and had to backtrack approximately 2 miles. This included climbing a very narrow bridge with an extremely steep grade. Yesterday made it clear that I would be Conway's least favorite visitor if I chose to assert my right to the road. I opted to walk along the narrow pedestrian walkway. Even if no one recognized my incredible sacrifice I felt better. OK . . . I felt like I had preserved my health. Surely someone would have fund reason to squeeze by to my long-lasting dismay.

Traffic grew lighter quickly. Conway isn't Atlanta after all. As the Weather Channel suggested, winds were light and variable. No headwinds to moan about. The roads were adequate, though still lacking anything resembling a useable edge of the road.

This is one of the better edges-of-the-road that I encountered in SC. I anticipated finding North Carolina's roads to be more hospitable. Below is where I entered the Tarheel State.

Note that just beyond the sign saying North Carolina there is a significantly wider road edge. Can SC save that much money by making their roads narrower?

For no reason other than thinking of doing it at the moment, I also took a picture of my odometer as I was about to enter NC. I was only a few miles from Calabash and my stop for the day outside of Sunset  Beach. Stopping at this campground (Brunswick Beaches Camping Resort) was prompted by bad reviews for the places I had considered and that were further along the route. This campground, a former KOA had no bad reviews. While reviews are often suspect, when they are all negative there's no good reason to verify for myself.

The grassy site is shaded and the whole place is low-key and pleasant. Did laundry. Showered. Got WiFi. Bagel shop down the road for when I depart in the morning. Weather is OK for this evening and tomorrow, but chances of thunderstorms increases by Saturday all along the coast.

I have fallen about 50 miles behind my best time, but remain within the lesser mileage itinerary. The problem I have to contend with now is that some of the places I thought of using are not satisfactory stopping point, either economically or hygienically.

The next stop? Wilmington? But where after that? Just part of the adventure. Wake up with the chance to make the most out of a new day. Funny how much easier it is to say that when I am not anticipating another day of South Carolina highways!

Day 9, Andrews, SC to Conway, SC – 54 miles, average speed 12.4 mph. Total miles, 651

The Weather Channel convinced me to consider shortening my day to avoid severe afternoon storms. Wind directions were very similar to those experienced last week when every breeze seemed to be a head wind. These winds, related to the location of potential storm cells, shift with cell development and were very much in evidence along with growing and billowing cumulus clouds. What the Hell. It’s only money. And better to be poor than be hit by a car in blinding rain.

Yeah, being hit continued to have a high probability as I traversed more of the Palmetto State. As an aside . . . the South Carolina flag is reputed to be the second most popular flag after Texas. Love the flag. Hate the roads.

This whole road thing is depressing. I complained about the lack of visual stimulation in Georgia, but at least there was adequate paving to permit me to be right of the white line most of the time. In SC a paved berm is practically nonexistent. The result is that anything visually pleasing or interesting is missed or has to be ignored lest your attention wanders for a moment and you are deposited in the grass along with beer bottles and mostly empty Styrofoam takeout containers.

It does not matter whether the road is primary, secondary or tertiary. It doesn’t matter whether it is a US, SC or county route. It doesn’t matter which county, though some counties do have better road surfaces. Riding a bike puts me (and you, if you were here) in harms way. Everyone who cautioned me about good old boys in pickups need not to have wasted their words. In SC everyone has the potential to take a bicyclist out. My best hope is that cellular coverage is so spotty as to make text messaging while driving impractical.

The other scary thing is log haulers. Every road in SC must lead to or from a logging operation. The drivers are mostly respectful of me, slowing if someone is approaching and they never blast me with their airhorns or pass unnecessarily close. There are just so damn many and all are on a deadline to get to the mill or too the cutting site. More loads means more money. A bicycle is a brief impediment, but an impediment nonetheless.

Today’s ride featured fewer rough roads, so the physical demand I experienced yesterday was greatly reduced. Tension and attention was just as heightened, if not more so.

I reached Conway and the Red Hill Motel by 1:30. The rate fit my budget. WiFi is adequate. No washer and dryer. Pizza delivered. Cable TV. A/C works. I’m not within about 80 miles of North Carolina. I am hoping that the Tarheel will be better suited to travel and its campgrounds more readily available.

One more thing about SC. Damn nice people.

Day 8, Moncks Corner to Andrews, SC – 39.7 miles, average speed 12 mph. Total miles, 597

Yesterday’s ride was the most difficult, even more so than the first day’s struggle to reach St. Augustine. By now, with a week’s worth of pedaling, my legs, heart and lungs are handling the ride well. Virtually every other bodily mechanism is protesting, but the physical demands of terrible roads left me battered. Long before reaching Moncks Corner I knew I could not settle for a tent stay. The Colonial Inn was adequate and under $50. Balancing physical and financial aspects is consuming much of my idle mind time while riding. I have convinced myself that eventually I will find a campground at the right time and in the right place. Perhaps I am justifying.

I left at 8 knowing that across the street was Burger King and sausage, egg and cheese croissants. Twenty minutes later I was well fueled and committed to my version of a rest day. $39 would buy me a night in the Colonial Inn in Andrews, SC!

After escaping the multi-lane, intown, rush hour traffic of Moncks Corner the ride was on truly pleasant secondary roads.

Much of the first half of the trip traversed Frances Marion National Forest. Riders are common enough that two gentlemen stopped to ask where I was headed and to relate brief stories about other riders they had met. They accounted for 25% of the traffic I encountered while covering approximately 20 miles. This section of the route was pleasant and passed quickly. Much of time I was shielded from the sun by thick forest, adding to the positive nature of the ride.

Knowing that I would be finished riding in about 4 hours was uplifting. My tota pedaling time was less than 3.5 hours. I was able to unload my bike, ride unfettered to a nearby Laundromat and wash things then later have a sit-down meal of lasagna at Antonio’s in downtown Andrews. As with all food consumed on this trip, the food was wonderful. Understand this . . . EVERYTHING tastes good.

I am now faced with the possibility of severe weather tomorrow. My primary goal is a campground near Calabash, NC, a distance of about 88 miles. I have also looked at a less than $50 motel (Red Hill) in Conway, SC. Weather is predicted to be less severe on Thursday, so Conway make be a salvation.

Perhaps I should have decided to cycle for a cause and sought donations. I could have donated 80% to the cause and used 20% for expenses. But what cause other than “because I want to do it”? The AC maps clearly identify more campgrounds as I travel further north and there is the hostel at the north end of OBX. How about southbound? Campgrounds have been relatively easy to find using Google maps, so I have less concern, at least as far as Greensboro. Traversing more South Carolina roads is a bit daunting.

Day 7, Yemassee, SC to Moncks Corner, SC – 75.1 miles, average speed 12.1 mph. Total miles, 557.2

I struggle to come up with anything positive to say about today’s ride not because there wasn’t anything positive, but because there was one overwhelming negative; terrible roads. I may be partly to blame because I chose to divert fro the Adventure Cycling route I the hope of reducing mileage significantly. Their route would have had me on secondary and tertiary roads typical of those I traveled yesterday, so I opted to follow US 17 Alternate to Moncks Corner.

I can’t adequately explain how terrible most of the 70+ miles were. Narrow roads with no shoulders. Shoulders that were incredibly rough. Miles of grooved roadway waiting to be paved. Heat. Heavy traffic. Basically the worst possible conditions short of a blinding rain storm.

And the positives? Summerville was attractive.. A carload of young people stopped at a light next to me wanted to know how fast, how far and why. Hardees biscuits for breakfast.

This whole journey is a challenge and challenges aren’t supposed to be easy, are they?

Day Six, Statesboro, GA to Yemassee, SC – 78.84 miles, average speed 12.1 mph. Total miles, 482

Statesboro was a nice place and the Mexican restaurant where I ate, El Sombrero, was outstanding. Mole Ranchero! $8.50! Salsa obviously prepared on-site. Nice way to end a long day.

As appealing as Statesboro was it contrasted greatly to the endless piney woods and verdant fields. I did cross the Ogeechee and Savannah Rivers. Southern rivers have an aura about them; dark, slow moving, tree draped banks, perfect places to idle away time fishing. Another contrast, too. Southern rivers versus Interstate 95.

 

Entering South Carolina brought one very significant change. Roads. Many of the rural roads in both Florida and Georgia were rough, but rough was the apparent standard as soon as I crossed the Savannah River. Paved edges, defined by white lines, when they exist are often very narrow.

There was no rain and very little to talk about. I am still on pace, still sore, still tired at the end of each day. I am also thrilled by being able to do this thing. I ebb from wondering why I am doing it then flow with the joy of doing it.

Can I make it all the way?

More Miscellaneous Stuff

About the B-17

After almost 11 months the unthinkable happened; my Brooks saddle broke. The friendly people at Bikes and More said they’d never seen a Brooks break quite like it did. One of the rails snapped while clamped in place. Since my FNBS sells more Brooks saddles than anyone else in Florida it wasn’t surprising that they had a replacement. It also wasn’t a surprise when Paul handed me a replacement. They know their customers and asking for a proof of purchase would have been redundant. It is my misfortune to have to break in another saddle before leaving in a month. The saddle had performed as advertised, conforming to me in all the right places. While using a more modern saddle for a day I realized how much hotter other seats can be. The Brooks simply felt right.

Preparing a Brooks saddle is a lengthy ritual involving applying special dressing (oils) to the saddle to soften it so your hard parts can stretch and form little refuges for your sit bones. Stuff on. Stuff off. Repeat. It had worked well for the first one, but I wanted to hasten the process after a 50 mile ride proved that initially they’re awfully damn hard. It had occurred to me that heating the dressing might hasten it’s absorption, but heating a metal can of the stuff seemed equally tedious or messy or both. With ambient temperatures in the low 90s and a blazing sun about to appear over the trees I realized modern technology (like using a microwave) would not do the entire job as efficiently as the sun. With the dressing, the saddle and the application rag all hot, the dressing went from being a greasy surface slick to gone without a trace. Multiple applications took moments. Now, it’s all about getting miles on it.

The Brooks had about 4500 miles on it when it began squeaking. Leather squeaks as I learned years ago when I drove MGBs. The squeaking started about a week before I finally began tugging at the saddle to replicate the sound. The sound I produced was a soft ping when the broken end slipped out of the seat mounting bracket. Brooks provides a 2 year warranty, but I doubt I will ever have to invoke the warranty again.

About Body Glide

My verdict is in. It works and to ride without Body Glide became unlikely. No mess and no irritation. What more can someone say about a product after saying “it works.” Do I talk about how, when and how often to apply? Read directions and follow manufacturer’s advice.

It’s a lot like finding a tire that works well and reduces flats to almost nonexistent. Why would you not use them if you wanted to avoid flats? Any "Cons"? Their website is Flash. Tedious.

About Tent Sites in an RV World

I telephoned several campgrounds listed on the Adventure Cycling maps. Most expect to fewer guests in August, except “don’t show up on Labor Day.” One offers “no hook ups” for $10 and $15 with. Another is $19 and has water and electricity. They only have one tent site. One state park said it was best to avoid weekends. They charge $17.93. I didn’t ask whether the fee had some numerological significance. Another state park cost $20 and there were no amenities other than a bath house. The most expensive was $25 and $27.50. It was private and the person on the phone was not the kind of campground keeper I wanted. In the alternative, the man who answered the phone for Hughes Family Campground near Calabash, NC, said they’d make room for a tent and that water and electricity were available at all the sites. He also said if he wasn’t around to get comfortable and he’d be “around eventually.”

Goals and Reality

I have cycled more than 5000 miles since acquiring my Safari in April 2011. None of it has been in touring mode and the longest distance I have covered was 55 miles. There’s no doubt the Safari can make the tour. I am the weakest element.

A week ago I loaded front and rear panniers with about 25 pounds worth of 24 ounce water bottles, all of it unsprung weight. This part of Florida lacks significant hills, but the few short, moderate climbs hinted at the effort that will be required on the Skyline Drive. I was easily able to keep pace with the road bike riders I accompanied on rolling terrain at 15 to 20 mph. For the whole trip or 45 miles I averaged 14+ which is better than I anticipated.

While studying individual segments of the Adventure Cycling East Coast Route I began to accept that 100 miles per day might be unreasonable. Mileage is going to be dependent upon the logistics of finding food, water and shelter. It’s probably more logical to aim at smaller chunks of distance during the first week then increasing the mileage as I become more physically able. Highly relevant in this reasoning is Coastal Georgia’s lack of towns and the towns I will encounter are usually small and lacking significant resources. This changes as the route eases into South Carolina.

Estimates of my ability to handle 75 to 100 mile days may change as I work at extending my range locally. Cedar Key is 55 miles away. If I’m unable to make it a one day round trip at least I’ll be in a place I enjoy.

Loading my front panniers reminded me that I won’t be on a grocery run when they’re loaded for touring. Steering response is slower, but I soon adapted to it, in part, I’m sure, because of the Safari’s geometry. It’s further evidence that the bike can handle the trip. The rest is up to me.

If you think about it . . .

Someone recently said, "If you think about it, it's pretty weird to want to ride that far on a bicycle." I suppose such and adventure could seem unusual. It didn't come about without a lot of thinking about it. If I were significantly younger I might approach it as an escapade. With most of the logistical and route planning completed it is easier to consider all those things that make it "pretty weird."

Self-doubt slides up and half wheels me frequently. It's that age thing. Aches? Pains? Falls? Illness? Can I do it in 14 days? And what about the mountains when south bound? A lot of things have fallen out of my lists bucket. It's taken time. I wanted to backpack parts of the Appalachian Trail. Drive around Nova Scotia. Hang out around the Finger Lakes. Never did the App Trail nor Nova Scotia. Did the Finger Lakes. There are other things that return fond memories and mostly they balance the things. Age becomes relevant. If I don't try it now, when?

A few things remain sources of doubt

• Coastal Georgia seems to have the fewest and most widely separated resources; camping, lodging and bike shops
• Planning the best schedule transiting through and around for DC and Baltimore
• Best route to Front Front Royal
• Handling the Skyline Drive (fortunately, the Skyline Drive is more accessible than the Blue Ridge Parkway)
• Getting from Roanoke to the SC coast (OK . . . that means more than half the trip is tentative)

I was given a T Shirt with the following inscription;

Who Dares

Wins

Pretty much says it. If not now, when?

Reached the ability to maintain 15 mph. When I can do that with the bike fully loaded I will be fully prepared for the trip. Until then I guess self-doubt will be dogging me. My best hope is to turn the dog into a wingman by acknowledging the challenge and potential problems while embracing Who Dares.