Went to both farmer's markets, spent some time in Lowery's while picking up a skein of cord elastic, hurried home when it started to rain. Didn't get quite damp enough to iron.
Walked a mile, climbed to Club 56 and counted to twelve before and after the service, flattened my back for a moment after the service — I'm going to have to start taking a book or something to Club 56 to relieve the boredom of lying down for five minutes.
Back aches a little from standing for the songs. Didn't fidget enough, didn't sit down soon enough.
farmers' markets, Open Air Nursery, very hot. Lunch at Peking.
I spent seventy-five years thinking that a "water haul" meant that you hauled water back and forth uselessly. After water bottles were invented, that even made sense: you went out to haul something, but all you hauled was your drinking water.
Yesterday I learned that a literal "water haul" is hauling up your nets and finding nothing in them but sea water. Fishermen along the coast of Canada started using "water haul" as an emphatic form of "fruitless effort", and it spread inland, then down into the states.
And the phrase is much more emphatic now that I know what it means!
The title of this tour: I went out to buy scrub pants, but found that the store that used to sell them now sells permanent-press medical uniforms — which look something like scrub suits, but would not be at all cool for working in the garden.
But I did buy a melon at Sweet Corn Charley's on the way. The tour started very well: at my first stop I bought new meshback weight-lifting gloves, at the second I found a pair of sandals that fit! I wasn't as pleased as punch with the style, which features a wedge sole — less than an inch thicker at the heel, but a sandal isn't supposed to have *any* heel — and two conspicuous shiny grommets.
A week or so ago, I found meshback cycling gloves at the Trailhouse, but only in size large.
<sorts receipts> there were no further fits. After I left Big R (with an oregano plant, but no pants to wear while planting it), I went to McDonalds. They *might* have had something on the menu that I could eat, but the type was small and hard to focus (I think it was yellow on a dark ground), so I went to Aldi and bought yogurt. I bought fat-free yogurt by mistake, and it was dire.
I tried the dark-brown sandals on this tour, and found the soles less stiff than the light-brown sandals. Also, these sandals fit better — which means that there isn't a half-inch of sole sticking out to keep my toes away from the toe clips. Only noticed the bumping once, but I'm going back to the larger sandals. The toes are velcro, so I can adjust them to fit socks that I can wear with my duegis.
I got the pain in the sole of my left foot noted on Feb 20 and other entries, but only for a few steps. It did not seem related to any of the places where I could feel the pedals through the sandals.
I got very itchy about the ankles in bed that night. I strongly suspect the elastic in my Pearl Izumi socks.
I wore my sheer linen jersey and dug my white linen do-rag out of storage for Saturday's tour, and wore thin socks for Monday's. Now I'm in full summer kit, except for an insulated pannier with ice in it.
I think I'll make my next trip Sprawlmart by way of Pierceton. Google Maps says that would be fourteen or fifteen miles. Perhaps another walker-selecting trip? Google Maps says 2.3 miles by the longest route. Come back by way of Sprawlmart? GM makes it 6.6, but takes a shorter route to the pillbox than before.
Today's plan: pick up prescriptions, drop off magazines at emergency room, look over the walkers at the Pillbox and select one to ask for when I see Darr in October, then Go Somewhere for exercise.
I was thinking of crossing 30 to lunch at Culver's and come home by way of Aldi, but if I turn the other way and cross the boardwalk, it isn't all that far to Walmart. The season for buying summer shoes is past and I have plenty of winter shoes, but there are restaurants in the neighborhood.
I'm trying out my the weight-lifting gloves I bought on Monday's Sprawlmart tour. (Chickened out of the Pierceton side-trip.)
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Said gloves left black lint on my palms — less the second and third times I took them off — and they have stretched a little at the thumb. Most of the time I didn't notice them.
Google Maps' 11.6 miles is by a route pretty close to the one I actually took. I took Google's route back by mistake: I couldn't find the straight-through lane when leaving Walmart and was forced to turn right. I saw that the leftmost right-arrowed lane had "also straight through" marked on the pavement when it was too late to change lanes. I knew that there is a straight-through lane, and should have taken the leftmost of the right-turn lanes, but I had a lot on my mind — and all the lanes were crowded.
Riding on Route 15 wasn't too bad, though I got tolled over into the left-turn lane at a light that didn't have a left turn. Next time I'll know that the first road is the second light! By good luck, a red light behind me had cleared out that section of road, so no actual difficulty ensued.
I wore the Duegis from Owen's to the Pill Box, and from the bench at the beginning of the Beyer Farm Trail to Walmart, then from Walmart back to Owen's. No complaints from the feet. Except that at the beginning of the ride, they said that it wasn't really thin-sock season yet.
I think I can claim more than eleven miles of credit for this ride when planning my next one, because I walked around in Walmart for hours. Didn't buy anything but a glue stick and a pint of half-and-half. (Light cream on the other side of the pond.)
It was raining when I arrived at Walmart, so I made no effort to find out whether there was anything soft at the restaurants — I didn't even take note of what there was besides Steak 'n Shake, and can't swear of my own observatiion that Steak 'n' Shake is still there. My lunch was two fruit-and-nut bars and a pint of cream. Not bad.
It's a pity — now that I have a great excuse to have a milkshake for lunch, I have no desire for sweets.
I copy and paste a post I wrote for Aunt Granny's advice column on rec.bicycles.misc.
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17 June 2016
There are only three posts in the buffer, not one of them can be finished in time to post on Sunday, and one of them probably will *never* be finished. So I'll post a report on tomorrow's Tour d'Warsaw. I do hope the report turns out boring.
Since the prediction is "hot and dry", I've insulated a pannier with newspapers for the ride. Now I'm in full summer kit: long-sleeved linen jersey, linen knickers, thin socks, mesh-back gloves, and a linen do-rag instead of a scarf. I've put a pint of water in the fridge, and I've checked the supply of ice cubes. I plan to fill a quart Rubbermaid bottle with ice, then pour chilled water over it.
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18 June 2016
Sunscreen: I paid particular attention to the outside edges of my calves, because that is where I got red streaks when I could ride all day.
Over at tech, there's an impassioned warning against wearing sandals on a bike. I've been strongly opposed to exposed toes anywhere near pedals ever since I stuck my little foot into the spokes of my tricycle while riding back and forth on the porch, and got a blood blister. A blood blister *really* grosses out a small child.
But I gave up that prejudice this spring, when I figured out that my oxfords were not only responsible for my corns, they were the cause of the sore spot that develops on the ball of my foot.
Since I plan to wear sandals for the entire trip, I chose "thin" socks that I suspect of being too thick to fit inside the Duegis. The back half of the cuff is twice as wide as the rest, and the extension is a bit thicker than the rest of the cuff. It said "tab back" on the package, if I recall correctly, so there must be some sort of purpose for that. It does make it slightly easier to pull on the sock.
I was pleased to see that the toe straps of my sandals cover most of the knitted-in advertisement. It says "Ballston", "Since 1918", and "Built to wear". I think they were meant for running shoes. (I buy any wool — or even part-wool — sock I see.)
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There was an event of interest on the way out of the village.
I was in the section of Park Avenue that has parking on both sides, riding in the center of my lane, when I saw a car in my rear-view mirror. A long stretch of empty parking spaces lay ahead, and I pulled into it to let him by. He was driving more slowly than is usual for that street, and continued to slow. Riding as slowly as I could, I passed behind a pedestrian waiting for a chance to cross and stopped behind a parked car. The overtaking car stopped to allow the pedestrian to cross, then just sat there. I turned my head to see what the hold-up was, and the car immediately started moving.
Duh! Up until then, I hadn't emitted the faintest clue that I knew he was there!
It's just as well that I forgot to put my bottle of tea into my cooler; this turned out to be a very short ride. I did plan to come back by way of the boardwalk to put in an extra mile, but I got on Fort Wayne street to cross SR 15 and absent-mindedly followed it all the way to Owen's. I realized it about halfway there, but wasn't sufficiently dedicated to extra miles to turn around and go back.
I went to the Farmer's Market hoping to buy a small piece of beeswax, and didn't think to bring a pill pouch to put it in. I dropped it and got it dirty.
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usenet post:
posted to rec.bicycles.misc on Sat, 25 Jun 2016 23:05:51 -0300
Subject: AG: Tour d' Stitches Out — five miles, three
hours
I'm much too busy getting ready for my annual embroidery-teaching gig to write anything this week, so y'all are getting another entry from my training log: tomorrow's exciting trip to the dentist.
I've been seeing altogether too much of this guy: I've got my own personal reserved parking space: he had a bike rack installed just for me.
(And it's one of the kind that work! And that kind are all over town! The local Friends of the Bike goofed up bike racks; under the instruction of the League Against Bicycling, they spend most of their time mis-painting "bike lanes" and building expensive sidewalks. Thanks to their efforts, Market Street, formerly the best way to get through town, is off limits to eastbound cyclists who aren't first-class racers, and unpleasant and not all that safe going west.)
Summary: with the adjustment to my bite, I can now eat green salad!
That would seem odd to get excited about if you'd seen what I've been eating the past two weeks, but think of slip-joint pliers with the joint slipped into the second notch: I could crunch up nuts just fine, but anything as thin as a leaf was waller and swaller.
(In case you also read A.U.E.: both words are backwoods pronunciations of common words, but while "swallow" is the exact equivalent of "swaller", and "waller" can replace "wallow" in any sentence, you can't wallow something around, you can only waller it.)
On the other hand, crunching chicken bones is forbidden until September. This will adversely affect my efforts to work my way back up to quarter centuries — stopping at Penguin Point for lunch was a major motivator on the Parks-Schram loop. There's a Subway a little farther on, but I don't have to ride that far to eat a sandwich.
I left half an hour early because I wanted to stop at Lowery's on the way. I intended to take a snack bag to put the skein of floss in so I could bring it home in my wallet. I forgot, but had a spare spectacle-cleaning rag to wrap it in.
Unexpected difficulty in locating black floss used up all the extra time, and I arrived the usual fifteen minutes early.
(Thirty or forty years ago, I sat down and faced facts: I had proven by experiment that it is impossible to arrive on time. I had decided that arriving late is not acceptable. There was only one option left: arrive everywhere fifteen minutes early. It turns out that this is a very good plan for medical appointments: when I get a mammogram, for example, they nearly always send me home before I was supposed to arrive.)
On the way from the fabric shop to the dentist's office, I forgot that last time I'd learned that it's better to turn off Prairie Street onto Columbia than to turn onto Walnut. I'll wager that I'll have forgotten again by August.
On the way home, as I was approaching the infamous intersection of Detroit and Pope, a driver decided to overtake me and turn right at the same time. By good luck I had already started my turn onto Pope, so I didn't crash into his passenger door. But he also decided that he must aim directly for his proper position at the far-right edge of the street. I was able to brake hard enough to stay in the part of the triangle between him and the curb that was just barely wide enough to contain me until he completed his pass, and he went on without the faintest clue as to what he had done.
Which is my main reason for wanting all junior-high children taught how to ride bikes. They would grow up into drivers who are viscerally aware that bicycles are not stationary objects.
I stopped at Marsh to buy a banana for a quick lunch, and spent $20.99. I had had no intention of going anywhere near Marsh before August, but they gave me a coupon for a free carton of eggs on my next visit, and we are down to eight eggs, so I think I'll make a special trip on Monday or Tuesday. I'll probably go round the south end of the lake, where the intersections are far enough apart that I can wear my cleats. When I started the list of quarter-centuries that developed into this log, I felt that I'd worn a rut around Winona Lake, but I haven't gone that way yet this year, and the distance is about right for a move up from these five-mile rides I've been taking.
(It's downright aggravating, when I take a ride that a child could have accomplished on his upright, that people are astonished and impressed and say "keep it up".)
I stopped at Sherman & Lin's, but didn't find anything interesting. While I was there, I measured between the two edge-of-the-road lines that mark the "bike lane". 52", but I was in a bit of a rush to get out of the road before another platoon came along, so that could be an inch off either way. I was surprised, as I'd thought it was only four feet. I don't ride in it of course; the road is too narrow for cars to move over even if they didn't have a fog line telling them that they don't need to, and the "bike lane" is taken out of a full-width breakdown lane that is smoothly paved to the edge, and often beyond, and cars use it for right turns often enough that it doesn't fill up with broken glass, so I ride just outside the "bike lane", which allows proper clearance for overtaking cars.
On a whim, after using Canal Street to get around the parked cars on Park Avenue, I got onto the Heritage Trail and followed it to the playground, where I got back onto Park Avenue and went home.
24 June 2016The backpack is sorted and packed (including black floss for making happyfaces), and I plan to take it to the church this evening, where I'll put it on the table reserved for sewing, along with the box of button-sewing kits that has been on the shelf over the refrigerators in the kitchen ever since last year. Nobody knows how it got there, but we decided it was as good a place to keep it as any.
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The backpack felt much lighter than it should — I've got an iron and an ironing board in there! — Tough Traveler did very good work. I haven't used my external-frame backpack in decades, but I remember thinking that the Tough Traveler flight bag was better. It does backpack, handbag, and shoulder bag. And there's an extra strap in the pocket that I rather suspect makes it do something else too, but I can't think what.
After fetching down the button-sewing kits, I set up the table. The backpack belongs on the floor under the table, and the ironing tools belong on the floor beside the outlet, but I left them on the table.
All I need to take with me tomorrow that isn't already in my pants pockets is a bottle of tea and two chocolate bars.
Then I climbed an extra flight of stairs and did twelve "pushups" in Club 56 — my elbows actually bent visibly!
The walk was significantly more than the usual mile, because I came back past the teller machine, and zig-zagged through the park, taking a closer look at the preparations for tomorrow's triathlon. I heard a rumor that instead of swimming, they are going to have a kayak race.
I didn't get nearly as tired as I did on the Monday before Easter, but I went up to Club 56 and did twelve "pushups" and some back-stretching exercises before walking home just to be sure. I should pack a book; I always get bored and get up before the end of a five-minute lie-down, and the print in the Bibles supplied for the fifth-and-sixth graders is too fine for aging eyes. Leastways it's too fine when one is lying on one's back holding the book overhead and the light is from above.
Only the usual mile of walking: up Chestnut Street and down the staircase on Ninth Street. Triathlon seemed to be all over when I left at a quarter past noon, but there was a party going on in a tent when I walked home. I didn't pass that parking lot on the way up the hill.
I snitched a small table from a children's Sunday school room to put the ironing things on.
The happyfaces I made such a fuss about drew no interest whatsoever. But one boy did choose the black floss, and another child (I didn't notice which sex) used the dark navy. Perhaps I should add dark brown to my selection!
The "button sewing" was a huge success, thanks in large part to my assistant. (We never used the word "embroidery"; we made necklaces.) Several adults stopped by; at least one embroidered, the rest supervised their children. (That was a big help too!)
And all but three button-sewing kits vanished; I saw only one of them go. After all these years, we'll have to make up some fresh ones!
/usenet post
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Disappointing distance, but I didn't tell Google Maps about the side trip down SR 15, and I spent well over an hour walking around in Marsh and between a quarter and a half at Owen's.
I went out Heritage Trail to Roy Street, took Winona Beach Drive to Country Club Road. Riprap in the creek crossing Winona Beach called my attention to the fancy wooden bridge. I stopped to contemplate the dam when I crossed Eagle Creek on Country Club Road.
Crossed the railroad on Pope. No difficulties at the turn onto S. Detroit Street — well, they can hardly right-hook you when you are in the left-turn lane!
I took a short side trip down the sidewalks of Buffalo Street, which is SR 15 at this point. Should I get extra credit for riding slowly enough to be safe on a sidewalk? I don't get any credit at all, being too lazy to trick Google Maps into measuring it. Shortly before I turned around to come back, I found a bench and stopped to change from cleats into sandals.
I should call this The Tour of Free Eggs, because it was inspired by a handful of coupons. I also got a free pound of bananas and a free six-ounce container of Yoplait Yogurt. For lunch, I ate the yogurt with one of the bananas and a little cup of potato salad. The salad was long on sugar and short on flavor, and I was less pleased at being able to buy a single serving when I found that the foil/plastic lid had been welded on. But what do you expect for 89¢?
Later in the week I'll go to Aldi and buy some good potato salad.
When I first saw the potato salad, I thought it was dressing for the green salad it was beside. I wonder how many of the people who would have bought it didn't see it?
I followed Lake Street north from Marsh to Fort Wayne, took Fort Wayne to Tamarack, and wended my way to the boardwalk. I stopped at the first bench to change back to long-distance shoes, then changed back to sandals —standing up— at Owen's.
It took a little under an hour to get from home to Marsh; I should remember that so I can go around the south end for my appointment in August. <checks calendar> I'd have to roll out no later than nine o'clock.
I walked a little more than a mile yesterday, and climbed one extra flight of stairs. Got an idea while in Club 56, and pulled a thick fluffy throw pillow off the sofa and put it on the floor, then did twelve push-ups lowering myself just until my dress touched the pillow. My arms hurt when I was done — the right way — so I must have lowered a bit more than when I did it without guidance. I hope they don't replace that pillow until I'm ready to use something thinner!
And I hope that next week's dress doesn't fit tighter.
I did put the pillow back.
Google Maps says that if I go to Buffalo Street Emporium by way of Parks-Schram Road tomorrow, it will be about eighteen miles. Perhaps I should cut a couple of miles off that by riding closer to the south end of the lake. <checks> Not possible. Going north of the lake should make it about fifteen miles.
Google makes that 13.6 miles — not enough.
But if I add a side trip to 200 N, it's 15.5 miles, just right.
It's a shame that Google won't let me see the entire map without erasing the route that I want to look at. Says in Help that there's an arrow to click, but that doesn't appear to apply to the lite version. Shame they won't allow me to put up with slow responses and use the real maps — I'm not out along the road somewhere looking at it with a browserphone, I'm at home and can read something on the other computer while I'm waiting for a map to load. The possibility that someone on a slow computer knows it and can deal with it — well, I'm used to being a bad data point. But I wish that I weren't the only person in the world who likes wool socks.
On my way through town, I decided that since I was passing very near the Emporium, it made sense to go there first. This led me to absent-mindedly leave town on Market Street instead of Winona Avenue. In hindsight, when I found that convenient bench, I should have studied my map before changing shoes.
When I came out on Zimmer (through their parking lot, and not by the other two sides of the rectangle the way Google says I did), I could have turned left and gone by Crystal Lake as originally planned, but I went by the Chinworth Trail and thereby lopped two miles off the trip.
At Kiwanis Park near Chinworth Bridge, I opened the pannier where I'd stashed my lunch, and discovered that the spout cover had popped off my square Rubbermaid quart bottle of ice cubes and water, and most of the water had run out. By good luck nothing important got wet, except the newspapers insulating the pannier, which might be why the ice was all gone when I got back; on the other hand, I hadn't taken a lot of ice and the pannier was still cold.
I think it was because the bottle had been in the freezer; if there was ice under the lid, it would pop open when the ice melted. I opened and closed the main lid, but not the one on the spout. At any rate, I'll be careful to put the spout up when using it again — I think I've been consistently putting the spout-side down, because I take hold of it by the other side. I didn't need the water this trip, but sometimes I count on it.
I had two bottles in the holder, and a bottle of tea and a bottle of lemonade in the cooler. I swapped the tea for one of the water bottles at lunch time, and the tea went down a lot faster. When it was gone, I poured lemonade on the tea leaves; since that left a sour taste in my mouth, that, too, went down quickly. One of the water bottles came home untouched, but I topped off the other (which was about half gone) at the library on my way through town the first time.
I found the farm at Fox Farm and North 200 West, but didn't find any sign that they had ever had a farm stand. Not too surprising, since I never saw another customer, but I'm hoping that it's just that the corn isn't ripe yet; corn shipped up from southern fields is just beginning to appear.
I wore sandals to the Emporium, cleats to Kiwanis Park at Chinworth Bridge, dined wearing sandals, changed back to cleats for the loop around 200 N to Open Air Nursery, where I changed to sandals for the trip home. Feet seemed quite happy.
I stopped at the menswear shop on the way out, and at Owen's and Lowery's on my second trip through town. I put the proprietor of the menswear shop to a great deal of trouble, but he couldn't find any wool socks for me.
Got as many groceries as would fit into the pannier at Owen's, and a packet of chenille needles at Lowery's. I must have stopped at the health-food store on the way out — I have a bag of chocolate-coated almonds.
Route: along Park Avenue to the teller machine, up ninth street to College, Rupe Drive to Kings Highway, Pierceton Road to Brower Park, East Wayne Street to Van Ness, Wooster to 250 E, 30 to Aldi, Commerce, Frontage, and Jefferson to McKinley, Winona to Park.
It was hot, and traffic on a main road at four o'clock is not conducive to staying hydrated. I was exhausted when I got to Aldi, but walking around in an air-conditioned store with a bottle of water with a lemon slice in it in my cart restored me.
I forgot to get my emergency food out of the squirrel safe, but I bought a bag of peanut-butter cookies at one of the two tables at the farmers' market. Then at Aldi, I bought thai noodle salad for lunch. It made a pretty well-balanced meal. I had a few slices of lemon (they had been sitting in sugar-water since July the second) for dessert. Alas, Aldi has removed the bench, so I had to sit on the sidewalk to eat. Found that I can still sit tailor fashion, but felt conspicuous — particularly when getting up and getting down.
Just remembered that I threw my fork away to save opening up my emergency kit again. I must put in a new one right now. And a new spoon, too; the old one has been in there for a while. I wrap them in a paper towel, so that I have a napkin, and something to wipe them on before putting them away.
(The current roll of towels is flimsy, so after wrapping a spoon and a fork, I wrapped the bundle with another paper towel.)
And I must design a better emergency kit. The drawstring bag is good, but needs a zipper down the side or something.
No garage sales; I guess those come out only for the tomato festival.
I got to Aunt Millie's Outlet well after they closed for the day, but found some thin sandwich buns at Aldi that I'm going to buy again.
For ice, I took a gallon-size zip-lock with a tray of ice cubes in it. This made it much easier to pack the groceries I bought at Aldi than a rigid container, and wouldn't have precluded using the melted cubes as emergency water. And it's no more likely to leak! (I refilled at the fountain at Brower Park, and again at Aldi. Perhaps rashly, I counted on the fountain in the part when deciding how much water to take — but I could have gone into one of the restaurants and begged; people have invariably been quite accommodating when asked for water — and often offer to put ice in it. Which I used to refuse, because unchilled water went down faster, but if the situation comes up again, I think I'll accept. I like my drinks colder than I used to.)
I wore sandals to the teller machine, changed to cleats on the west side of the church after climbing Ninth Street, changed back to sandals on the steps of another church in Pierceton, changed back to cleats on the bench in Brower Park, changed back to sandals on the steps leading up to Aunt Millie's Outlet, and continued in sandals the rest of the way. Very few complaints from the feet.
I went to the nearest farmers' market, then directly to Owen's East for eggs, and quickly home because I hadn't brought any ice for the eggs.
One extra flight of stairs, slow motion to the first landing on the way down. Twelve "pushups" over the pillow. I thought my dress was sagging more than last week, so after finishing the twelve twitches, I attempted to lower myself all the way. It's a good thing that I was doing it over a pillow! I rested there for a while.
I was bored with walking north on Chestnut, so I went to the end of the Terrace Dr. houses on Sunday Lane Walkway, then switchbacked down the steep lawn —not easy in heeled sandals— and came back on Terrace.
Google Maps says I went to the end of Sunday Lane Walk, but it continues all the way to the Hotel. I'm surprised that it shows as much of it as it does — perhaps it was platted as a street; Union used to show on maps well beyond where it was actually built.
Just looked: the Heritage Trail is still marked "N. Union Dr." at the downstream end. Of course, it now exists.
I'm getting rather tired of this tour! With any luck, I won't take it again until my regular cleaning in August.
The chip turned out to be plastic: off the temporary bridge, not the tooth.
I found some things Kroger doesn't have at Marsh. I sweat off about two bottles of water.
I put ice, lemon slices, and stems and flowers of basil into the water. I shall do that again.
I don't want to miss the fair, but I'm having trouble working up interest in going.
Went to the fair on Thursday, walked to the second bridge on Friday, rode to the farmers' markets and Chinatown Express and the library and Lowery's on Saturday, walked all the way to the Hillside today, forgot to climb to Club 56, but I did climb the two steps onto the stage at the Hillside.
There are now enough benches at the fairgrounds that I needn't fear going when I don't feel well — but I'd better take some needlework to keep me sitting more than a few seconds.
I never found the drinking fountain, but one can get water in the Women's Building. I emptied my bottle three times while walking around.
I've got another appointment with the dentist the day after tomorrow. I plan to take the switchel that I made and forgot about. If it hasn't spoiled.
11.8 miles to Fort Wayne & West
4.5 miles home
Since my appointment was moved up to noon, I didn't have time for a nap, so I took one bottle of tea, one bottle of switchel, and one bottle of ice water, refilled the tea bottle at Owen's West. Also snitched at least half a bottle's worth of ice from my bag of ice; it didn't last long after being taken out of the cooler. Refilled a bottle at Owen's East, brought more than half of that home.
The juice of one lemon would have been quite enough; I think I thought I was lemoning the entire quart. I topped off the switchel when I refilled the tea bottle, then kept adding water from the tea bottle until it was gone, then started in on the ice water. Seems to have worked; I didn't get tired until it was time to be tired.
I lost track of time and left thirty-eight minutes late. By dint of keeping it on the big ring all the way, I arrived exactly on time. I was surprised that this was very little strain — I was sweaty, but as hot as it was, I'd have been sweaty if I'd been sitting still.
So I kept it on the big ring for most of the rest of the ride. I had noted "Hey, I'm fully recovered!" but I hadn't given up thinking of myself as a poor old cripple.
As usual, I couldn't persuade Google Maps to show all my ziggings and zaggings. I went to the dentist's office by Smith and Prairie, remembering to turn at Columbia, not Walnut. Columbia takes you around a slight hill; Walnut adds climbing to the route, and the streets aren't as well maintained.
After leaving the office, I stayed on Union until it was interrupted at Center, zigged onto Columbia, stopped at Owen's West for water and a look around. Never found the cough drops. I try to remember to check cough-drop displays for caffeine drops.
On to Fort Wayne, and to Lake Street by way of West Street. Passed Penguin Point with hardly a glance, just before the second roundabout I stopped at Subway and bought a six-inch Italian BMT, shortly after the Zimmer Road roundabout, I spotted a driveway that intersected the Chinworth Trail — which was one of the zigs that Google can't follow; if you want to get on the trail, according to Google, you go to the trailhead or you go to the other trailhead. Punct.
Thence across the Chinworth Bridge to Kiwanis Park, where I ate my sub. Read the map, noted that 300 N is only a mile farther than 200 N, but I wasn't in a Walmart mood. Went out the drive of Kiwanis Park (I'd ridden on the sidewalk to get in) and followed Old 30/Lincoln Highway/Lake Street back to 350 W, followed 350 to 200 N, which ends on Fox Farm, stopped at the farm stand on 200 W — another zig Google can't follow, since that part of 200 W has been vacated — and back to the first roundabout. Stopped at Open Air, but it was too hot to buy a packet of seeds — would have required me to go back into the all-too-literal hot house to find the clerk. West to Fort Wayne, Fort Wayne to some wrong turns Google can't follow, Pike Lake Park.
Where the water in the fountain was warmer than ambient, and the longer I ran it, the hotter it got. I suspected that it did *not* come directly from an underground pipe, but after dumping two or three bottles of it onto some thirsty-looking grass, I gave up and took one bottle of hot water in case I got desperate. But there was still half an inch in the ice-water bottle when I got to Owen's East and refilled.
To my untutored eye, the cattails along the boardwalk looked healthy, and I didn't notice any purple loosestrife. In contrast, I'd seen a field of corn that was starting to curl along 200 N.
I'm planning to go along 200 N again tomorrow; hope I remember to check out the cornfields.
I intend to try to make a quarter century out of my weekly trip to the farmers' markets, but there isn't a lot out in that direction. I can add an extra mile by going to Chinworth Bridge by Crystal Lake Road instead of Lake Street, but that means that I don't pass either Subway or Penguin Point, so where do I buy the lunch I want to eat at Chinworth Bridge?.
I heard the police called to a flea market on Prairie Street, and plan to look at Prairie Street to see whether I can find it — I have a vague recollection of having gone there before, but I've been the full length of Prairie several times recently without noticing anything. That takes me past Peking and Marsh, but Peking food is mediocre and they don't do cold lunches, and I'm not all that crazy about buying a sandwich in a supermarket. And I'm bored with what I can make a packable lunch out of here.
Checked Google Maps: the flea market is close to the intersection with Buffalo. I think I've seen it, but had my attention on the traffic. I'll give it a miss this time. Perhaps I can backtrack to Detroit Street to buy a sack lunch.
Hmm . . . Google Maps suggests that I go to 200 N by taking 100 N to 525 W instead of 350 W. That would add some miles — especially if I go to Chinworth for lunch, then back-track — and I don't think I've been on 525 before.
Urgh. Google had a pretty nice bike ride mapped out, then I clicked on the bicycle icon — and it erased it in favor of using Market Street and Center Street. Google Maps must be getting its bike information from the League Against Bicycling.
Completed: it's nineteen miles. Backtracking to Detroit Street (where there are several places to buy a sack lunch) and backtracking to eat lunch at the Chinworth Bridge should add a couple of miles, so it's close enough to a quarter century. Not to mention that Google shows me starting from the Winona Hotel, which is more than half a mile from here.
I was surprised at how near this route comes to Atwood. Shame there's nothing interesting at Atwood (save the famous hill, which no-one is too sure where is); it's a very nice route.
Plus the distance from here to Winona Hotel and back.
I borrowed a Linux computer to read Google Maps. It's easier to measure miles with waypoints, but not easy. And there's still that bit of not letting you go anywhere you couldn't take an eighteen wheeler. (It would let me cross the street to Subway, but wouldn't let me cross back because Fort Wayne is one-way on that side.) It will, for some reason, let me into the parking lot at the library; no other parking lots exist.
I'm not sure how much water I drank. I refilled at the library, and again at Owen's West just before leaving town, and picked up a bottle of hand-washing water at CCAC. One-handle faucets, ugh! Why does a summer-only washroom even have a water heater? Maybe it doesn't, and it was cheaper to use a two-pipe sink and ignore one pipe; I must try to turn on the hot water the next time I'm there.
After lunch at Tippecanoe Park, which I've been calling the Kiwanis picnic shelter, I went to the CCAC for water, then followed 100 N to 525 W, thence to 200 N, and the usual route home.
I bought a kohlrabi at Fox Farm and 200 W. It does have the texture of a cabbage core, but almost no flavor. They were also having a garage sale, but it was farther from the garage they have the vegetables in than I care to walk wearing cleats, and the heat was very oppressive whenever I wasn't moving.
I stopped at the first bench on the Beyer Farm Trail to change back into sandals, because my right foot was sore. Easier to change there than at Owen's anyway.
Hmm . . . that spot on my foot still feels a little off, if I pay attention to it. (I'm writing on Sunday evening.)
I did a lot of thinking while doing 200 N on plain water. (Somewhere after Fox Farm, I put the remaining half bottle of handwashing water in reserve and started drinking the lemon-flavored ice water in my cooler.)
So this evening, I stick-blended a tablespoon of rolled oats into my ginger water, then strained it into five four-ounce containers, the general neighborhood of two ounces per container, then added the juice of half a lemon and a teaspoon of diluted honey to each container and put them into the freezer: Instant switchel to carry in my cooler. The chunks of ice are way too big to put into a bottle — even my two-ounce containers would have to thaw around the edges before they would pass through my widest bottle neck — but I figure that on a day when I want to drink switchel, it won't take long to thaw them.
Then I put a quart of water into the strainings and brought it to a boil. I figured that I'd use the ginger tea as switchel base, but it's going to need to be diluted.
So I'm boiling the strainings a second time. Whatever the tea tastes like, this time they are going onto the compost heap.
The usual one-mile walk. I remembered to climb an extra flight of stairs, and after touching the fluffy cushion twelve times, tried to lower myself all the way. This time I controlled the fall, which is progress. I didn't go very far down Chestnut street before coming back on Sunday Lane; I'd forgotten my pocket-size water bottle, and I'd worn the wrong hat.
High temperature is scheduled to drop into the eighties tomorrow, and get as low as 79F on Saturday. I may not drink up all that switchel.
Hanging wash and a walk to the teller machine and back, a little over one mile. My arthritic joint didn't like the walk.
To Owen's to dispose of plastic bags, to KCH to dispose of magazines, to Goodwill to dispose of, among other things, a water bottle with a cap over the valve that wasn't as clever as I'd thought it was when I bought it.
Switchel concentrate was a great success, though not as lemony as I'd have liked. The ice was soft after a little of it had melted, like a popsicle, so it was easy to break it up and pour it into a bottle.
For variety, I followed 175 N to 300 E, which unexpectedly took me past the self-serve farm stand. I must remember to keep more one-dollar bills in my wallet when riding. I bought a pint of little yellow tomatoes and ate half of them two or three at a time, washing each one with the plain water I'd picked up at Meijer.
Where I also picked up two pairs of thin cycling tights, one twenty dollars, the other sixteen. This was my first use of my chip card, if you don't count activating it.
I saw blooming mallows in the marsh off Arthur Street, which was a factor in choosing Parks-Schram for Saturday's ride.
The Crazy Egg Cafe is an excellent place to eat lunch — if you mean to lie down for an hour before going on.
I hurried through the farmers' markets because the cafe closes at two, and got there at a quarter before twelve. I had left at 10:16, so that was about an hour and a half, so if I go again, I can fiddle around a little on the way.
After lunch, I went back to Chinworth Bridge to get to Parks-Schram. Satellite View suggests that if I had poked around behind Creighton Brothers, I might have found a path across the railroad to 100 N. At its point of inflection, 100 N comes very close to the railroad, and of course Creighton Brothers was originally sited there so that they could unload grain cars and ship out eggs, though I see no sign that they still do. When Creighton Brothers was shipping all those boxcars of eggs during WWII, farmers didn't have trucks. I think that the majority didn't have tractors.
I saw some mallows in bloom from 100 N, but not one single one along Parks-Schram, and it's been years since I did — though I don't get there when I'm sure it's mallow season every year. I wonder what happened to the spectacular display I saw the first time I went out that way in August?
It's still a pretty road.
I turned right on Crystal Lake, then took 500 W to 100 S. When I saw that 500 W was gravel, I considered going on to 600 W, but I had no guarantee that 600 W isn't gravel too (and a check with Satellite View shows that it *is* gravel), and 500 W was well-packed gravel, so I went on.
The well-packed didn't last long, and there were long stretches of washboard, but I never actually had to get off and walk. It kept a much higher percentage of my attention on the road surface than is wise, but I met only two vehicles and was never overtaken.
I *think* I got to 200 S by 550 W, but on the other hand, I recall being tempted to stay on 100 S and checking the map to verify that it doesn't connect, which would be possible only if I took 400 W.
Uneventful and familiar from there, save that (again!) I managed to miss both Faun Street and Packerton Road, and got to Pierceton Road by way of 275 E, which I followed in the wrong direction for a short time.
Coming in on Pierceton enabled me to get to the Boys Club by way of the new branch of the Heritage Trail — so that's what "BC Bensquiggle" means! I sat on a bench-high decoration at the entrance for twelve minutes, consulting my map to see how I'd gotten there from that direction. And then five minutes to home.
I haven't managed more than twenty-two miles yet — dast I go to Mentone tomorrow (Wednesday 3 August)? It's more than thirty miles the very shortest way.
Sunday: climbed to Club 56, twelve "pushups", no gain; walked to Hillside before walking home. The blue lines I saw in the flowerbeds the Sunday before last had been cultivated away. Guess I'll never know what that was about.
Gardened for a short while, came in to cool off, and wrote up the Crazy Egg tour instead of going back to work.
I'll calculate going and coming separately, to reduce the odds of using up all my allowed changes. The route going out was simple, and coming back only slightly less so — and I didn't miss the turn onto Faun Street.
I went out Smith Street to Marsh, where I topped off my bottle at the drinking fountain near the back wall, then followed Union Street to Winona Avenue, Winona became Crystal Lake Road, and I followed it to Crystal Lake. Then I took 800 W to 200 S. I should have turned at 100 S; 200 S has been tarred and graveled. It was beaten down enough to be safe, but was far from pleasant. Then I came into Mentone by SR 19.
Google Maps says a route something like this is 17.3 miles.
I went immediately to Teel's for lunch, so that my food would have plenty of time to settle. I cut off half my tenderloin meat and brought it home, but couldn't resist saying "yes" when she asked "do you want the fries that come with that". But Teel's is right across the street from the library, and they have a very nice mezzanine furnished with two sofas. So I carried a magazine up — I get credit for two stair climbs, because I was under the impression that there were books up there when I went up to scope it out — took my shoes off, and lay quietly for half an hour.
Then I walked the full length of the business district, pausing to walk around in the book store and to check the convenient store's offerings. I might have bought a bottle of tea if I'd known then that the library's water is softened. Back to the library to top off my bottles and change shoes on the bench on the street side of the building.
One fountain was purely ornamental — a statue of child drinking from a bubbler — and way at the back of the building I found a drinking fountain that was turned off or disconnected. Luckily, I'd passed a kitchen on my way, so I went there to fill my bottles — just two of them; I hadn't opened my ice water yet.
SR 19 to 100 S. Going that way was two miles farther, but in addition to avoiding the gravel, that took me to the cemetery at 800 W and 100 S, which is furnished with three shade trees. I chose the middle one and lay down in the shade for a while. I think that this is where I poured my switchel concentrate into half a bottle of soft water and started tapping the ice water. No, I diluted the too-strong switchel with ice cubes and melted ice, and started stopping in shady patches to pour a little cold lemon water into the bottle when the switchel was gone.
I should have taken two sandwich bags of ice cubes, but my cooler was still cold when I got home even though there was no ice left.
I took 675 W to 200 S, and regretted not staying on 100 S to 400 W — it would have saved 2.75 miles of graveltop.
Google Maps says that this route is 17.5 miles. And with hardly any coercion!
This was a big jump in mileage. Six or eight miles, maybe more, before I got home, I decided that my knees shouldn't be asked to crank up any more hills, and changed into walking shoes. I think that all that walking aggravated my arthritic sacroilliac joint; at any rate, it's sore today. (I'm writing this on Thursday 4 August 2016.)
There weren't too many more hills that I couldn't climb. I suppose that it helped that I was headed toward a lake, and therefore averaging down.
It was a little depressing to see how much the corn and beans were hurting, and no rain in sight.
Cool! There's a fifty-percent chance of a small thunderstorm tomorrow. Next chance is Wednesday of next week, and only thirty percent.
Almost certain sunny, hot, and dry on Saturday. If I go to the farmers' markets and then go to Pierceton Days, it will be about twenty miles.
An unexpected party cancelled both bike trips on that Saturday. I made a perfunctory farmers'-markets tour the following Saturday, and when I woke up from my nap, I didn't wake up all the way, and I've been draggy with patches of an alarming loss of appetite ever since. My stomach felt uneasy on the way to the dentist this morning, but I seem to be over the draggys now. I went back to bed for another rest after my nap, but getting my teeth cleaned always wears me out.
I sure hope this recovery sticks — I've got another party this weekend.
Dr. Hollar says that my temporary bridge is holding up better than expected. I hope I don't get careless before the September W-DH-M-W tour.
I'll bet the muscles working that side of my jaw are out of shape.
The tomato festival the Saturday after next will be another chance at the twenty-mile tour I missed the Saturday before last. I hope nothing happens to stop me from going.
Hey, Google Maps has repaired the bug that made it tell you to ride a couple of miles past Panda Express and then walk back.
I really should get in a little riding this week if I want to take the Tomato Festival tour on Saturday. I'm out of interesting places to go, but the spare wheel where I tuck deprecated plastic grocery bags was rather cluttered.
So I loaded up the bags, some magazines, an old tin box, and a box of "poster cards" and went off to Owen's, the emergency room, Goodwill, and lunch at Panda Express. Before returning, I walked around in Meijers for a little while and topped off my bottles at their drinking fountain.
The line at Panda Express was backed up through two doors and onto the sidewalk. I've never had more than three or four ahead of me before. And every table at the outdoor dining area that I always have all to myself was taken. I get self-conscious about my table manners when sitting with two perfect strangers. The restaurant was in its usual state when I left at 1:55; I should have toured Meijer before eating.
Eating black-pepper chicken for lunch helps with hydration in the afternoon.
I didn't feel like crossing 30 twice to get back onto Anchorage, so I walked from Meijer's parking lot to the trailer park.
I spent about ten minutes looking around in Lucerne Park on the return trip. They appear to have cabins for rent, but I can't find anything about them on the Warsaw parks department Web site. didn't notice the four "stone enclosed" picnic shelters, but I did check out the "amphitheater", which is a smaller and flimsier version of Winona Lake's Hillside. Now I want to go back and look around for the picnic shelters; that will add some small trace of motivation to the next dump tour.
Stopped at Pike Lake Park to check out the water fountain. To my surprise, the water came out cold without being run out at all. I didn't top off my bottles.
When I filled my bottles before leaving, I dropped the squeezed lemon into my switchel bottle, which gave a pleasant flavor to refills. There is only one lemon left, and we are almost out of hot weather. That works out neatly. I'm surprised that only one lemon spoiled.
Stopped at Owen's for milk and eggs. Redeemed a couple of coupons for frozen food.
The tomato-festival tour was rained out. <prolonged whine>
No stop at Owen's, because the bags I want to dump were wet, so I shook them and left them in the garage. I crossed Center on Harrison Street instead of McKinley.
It took about twenty minutes to ride from home to KCH, which I must remember when deciding when to leave tomorrow.
It took me just three minutes to ride the length of the boardwalk, and another two to reach Arthur Street.
I stopped in the park at Pike Lake to check the fountain again, and paid attention to the faucet for the first time. I wish I'd thought to try it when the fountain was running hot. (In accordance with the Law of Cycling, Especially for Old Ladies, I made prophylactic use of the facilities.)
Having left home at 9:32, I wasn't ready for lunch yet when I left Goodwill, so I walked around in Meijer for a while. Didn't find anything of interest. I walked up and down all the toy aisles, because if anyone ever makes the laptop I invented when I realized that the keyboard to my brand-new TRS-80 MOD II was hollow, it will be marketed at a child's toy. I did scan a card that gave ten dollars to some food pantry. I'd recently read that the Salvation Army food pantry was all out, and that means that all the others must be hurting too, or the story would have said that they refer their customers to better-funded charities.
Also glanced at the toy bikes. The kind with Model T wheels is still around. I've never seen any in the wild, but kids probably don't go far from their back yards on them.
My "kid's meal" was hot for a change. As I was chasing the last few grains of rice with a flimsy fork, I wondered whether an expert chopstick user could eat out of those boxes. I rather suspect that it's the wrong kind of rice.
Along US 30 back to Anchorage, thence to Vicky Lane and 175 E. When I approached 75 N, I realized that I hadn't laid my map out to dry. I'd left the wet newspaper insulation more-or-less deliberately, thinking that evaporative cooling would make up, somewhat, for not taking any ice. (Never mind that I quite deliberately arrange plastic bags to keep wind off the newspapers.) But I forgot that the map was tucked between the layers. The only available post moved alarmingly when I tried to lean the bike against it, so I had to lay the bike down so that I could spread the map out on the grass to read it.
75 N was, indeed, the road that I wanted. I followed it to 225 E, then jogged over to 250 E on Old 30. I had planned to take this opportunity to look over Indiana Restaurant Equipment, but while I was buying a bag of slimwiches and a loaf of 100% wheat at Aunt Millie's, my bowels informed me that my next stop should have a public rest room, so I headed straight for Aldi.
Not all that straight, because I have to cross US 30 twice.
And of course the urge had gone away by the time I got there.
I didn't buy any frozen food or fresh meat because I wanted to shop in Sprawlmart, particularly Carson's. We are completely out of frozen blueberries and I like Aldi's frozen blueberries best, so this decision annoyed me — until I noticed that they had fresh blueberries. Yum!
I bought an avocado too, because they are supposed to bring down your bad blood fat, and avocados are cheaper at Aldi than at other stores.
I went out of my way to stop at Sweet Corn Charlie's, and they had big juicy tomatoes, but I couldn't figure out how to add one to my piled-up panniers without squashing it.
Next stop Dollar General, where in the clearance rack I saw "skirt hangers" — a hanger with four arms and two clips on each arm, so that you can hang four skirts from only one hook. I saw a hanger of the same idea in the late forties or early fifties, only for blouses. In both cases, it doesn't take long to realize that it doesn't save any more closet space than squashing separate hangers together, and it's even better than jam-packing at pressing wrinkles into the garments.
But this is exactly what I need for hanging my custom-made linen bras: the space between the arms is just a little more than the width of the thick elastic band at the bottom, so the thick parts don't pile up together. I bought two, thinking that I'd figure out some way to hang one below the other.
And simply hooking the hook of one over the bottom bar of the other already works better than the wired-together dress hangers I'd been using. I think that if I bend that hook just so, it will be perfect.
I also bought a jar of giardineria; I found space in the pannier for it by lifting the package of paper plates, then re-securing the bungees.
I had been slow in saying that I wouldn't need a bag, so the clerk went to a great deal of struggle to double-bag my skirt hangers, which were just a tad too big for the bag. I thought I should make use of this, and held the bagged hangers up to the side of the stuffed pannier. I couldn't figure a way to tie the handles to anything, so I threaded a short bungee through the pannier's wires on the side next to the rack, brought the ends out under the bag of bread, and hung the handles on the hooks. Then I re-threaded one end to make the bungee tight enough to hang on to the handles, and fastened a bungee over the bagged hangers to keep them from swaying, careful that it went between the arms to also prevent up-and-down movement.
I *think* the visit to Sweet Corn Charlie came after this.
It's probably just as well that I couldn't find anything to buy at Carson's. They had the very same pants I bought there last time (and have on right now), but only in two sizes too small. I'm sure there was something else that would do nicely, but there were so many pairs of pants, and so much polyester and Spandex, and so many false alarms when I found something I thought was good and it turned out that the manufacturer was ashamed of the fiber and refused to disclose it.
Buying new old pants isn't easy.
I couldn't find the restroom at Carson's, nor yet a manned service desk, so I stopped at the Krebs Trailhead Park. First time it's served its purpose, from my point of view.
Getting ready to see my eye doctor this afternoon.
I've re-built the cooler, and put Dave's shades into it for the trip back — I'm not planning to carry ice on this expedition, but as a matter of principle will put my emergency food packet in at the last minute, if I don't forget.
I've also packed all the bags that got wet into a bag, and tied it to the back of the cooler to be dropped off when I pass Owen's on the way to the medical area. Perhaps I should look around for a digest magazine to drop off at the hospital on the way home; I'll want to go over there anyway so as to use the walkway for the first leg of my trip home. I miss being able to walk to the gym after an eye exam, to work out while waiting for my vision to come back. But in those days I had to drive to the appointment.
⁂
Oops. Started to sew, noticed the map peeking out from under the plywood under the iron, where I'd put it to flatten it after drying it yesterday. I took it out to the bike before spraying any water.
I need to rebuild the cooler again. I felt my way along the Beyer Farm Trail to Owen's and went inside to wait for my eyedrops to wear off. My usual parking space was vacant, but a pedestrian blocked my path to it — nothing in the cooler, nothing wrong with parking in the sun. When I came out, I discovered that a severe rainstorm had passed through. My do-rag was too wet to put back on. I was surprised at how much I had to shorten the chin strap to make the helmet fit without it — it's just one layer of very thin linen.
On the other hand, I found a chuck steak, slow-cooked it today, and it was delicious.
The map was only humid, and I laid it on the bottom of a wire pannier to dry after I got back.
My eyes, by the way, are stable and I don't have to come back for a year. They'll call me six months ahead of time.
When I unpacked the groceries, I couldn't find Dave's shades. His reaction was "I've got another pair." I might have trouble borrowing them next year! But I couldn't wear them with my helmet; perhaps I'd better get a pair of my own. But I don't see how shades could cover my glasses, block all stray light from the side, and fit under a helmet. Perhaps someone makes a shield that clips onto one's hat?
Changing of the seasons: today will be my first ride wearing a scarf instead of my do-rag. But it's the sheer linen scarf.
⁂ <-- X -->
It was a tad early to give up the do-rag. Didn't sweat much, but needed to rinse my jersey upon returning home.
I've been taking my regular Sunday walks. Last Sunday, I climbed to Club 56 twice, and walked home by way of Spring Fountain Park. Took another walk on Tuesday for a committee meeting, but forgot the climb to Club 56. Did take a lap around the outside of the building trying all the doors because I forgot my keys.
read Banner
I planned to go by way of Pierceton and lunch in the cafe reputed to be where the diner was, but as I was rolling out the driveway, I realized that I'd forgotten to put on my long-distance shoes. Instead of going back for them, I decided to omit Pierceton, but go by way of Packerton Road to put in an extra mile. When I got to Packerton Road, I liked the looks of 225 S. better, so I stayed on it to 275 E and came back to 250 E on Pierceton. That added another half mile.
I filled a pannier with bread at Aunt Millie's, toured Indiana Restaurant Supply, forgot that "Man Cave" was in the same parking lot and turned around and went back to Indiana Antique Mall.
After crossing Thirty, I took a couple of laps around Ritter's, and decided I wasn't in the mood for ice cream for lunch. Then I discovered that if you go behind the buildings, the parking lots are continuous from there to Orthopedic Drive, which I may find useful the next time I come down 250 E from the north. (Google Satellite View says they are not continuous. Now I must go look again!)
I went to Big R first, filled my other pannier with a bag of cat food, and went to McDonald's intending to have fries for lunch. Before ordering, I wanted to make sure they don't offer something in the line of chili cheese fries — but the side dishes weren't at the right end as they were the last time I ate there. I read and re-read every item on the menu; it appeared that fries were available only as part of a meal.
Just then the flickering advertisement at the left end changed to a list of side dishes, then flickered out before I could read the whole list. At that point, I became extremely insulted and stomped out.
When I was doing all those fifty-mile rides in New York, McDonald's built up a lot of good will with me because their back door always leads directly to the restrooms and they don't mind if you make a pit stop without buying anything. But if they won't allow me to read the menu, I'm not going to eat there.
The fries haven't been all that great ever since they stopped cooking them in suet anyway.
I thought, when I stomped out, that I'd buy potato salad at Aldi. But it seems that potato-salad season is over. (On the other hand, they had Sandwich Skinnies, which I hadn't been able to buy on my previous trip. I bought two packages.) I've been wanting an excuse to buy hummus; hummus and yellow-corn chips would do nicely. So I took back the bag of potato chips — with both panniers full, I didn't think I had room for two bags of chips. The yellow-corn chips, alas, were USDA organic and people who don't believe that the Federal Government should regulate religion can't by USDA organic, so I took blue-corn chips.
Then in the special-purchase aisle, I saw come peanut-butter filled chocolate bars, took the blue-corn chips back, and retrieved the same bag of potato chips. I had put a — whatever Aldi calls their slim jims — in the cart when I first entered.
From there, it was straight home, with a pause at Dollar General to buy a six-tier skirt hanger to hang my bras on. I came by Jefferson Street; I see it first and forget that Durbin is more direct.
Whoosh, I didn't even finish the entry for the 16th — and I've done a quarter century in the meantime. Whatever I meant to stick in after reading the Banner shall remain forever lost.
I remembered to climb up to Club 56 after going out the door, so I got an extra flight of stairs in yesterday. Coming back by way of Spring Fountain Park is getting to be a habit; I think that makes the walk a mile and a quarter.
Got an extra mile walk in last Tuesday. Swapped off with one of the peanut-butter sandwich makers to save my back. I did remember to climb to Club 56, but a club member was using it, so I did my pushups in the deserted narthex — and the youth pastor passed through and was concerned. I'm not sure that wasn't the first time I did pushups while not wearing a long skirt.
Ripping pages out of the little notebook:
31 August. Reported. Report doesn't mention that I did take a digest magazine and leave it at the emergency room.
3 September. Not reported. Must have been a farmer's market tour. I noted that the middle cable guide needs a fresh wrap of tape to keep it from snagging my knickers. I'd better knock off typing and take care of it.
⁂
The tape was right where I thought it would be, but taking the frame pump off so I could wrap the top tube without including the pump proved unexpectedly difficult. The end of the Velcro strap intended to retain it if it gets knocked loose has worn away, making it hard to tell where to pick at it — and the wear had secured the hooks so firmly into the pile that I wasn't sure I wasn't trying to tear it. But my attention was called to the plug that is supposed to keep dirt out of the connector, and by dint of picking the dirt out of the connector and wetting both surfaces, I contrived to persuade it to go in and stay in. Then I manfully resisted the urge to give *it* a coat of tape to keep it from opening the next time it's bumped.
I think air comes out of the connector when I work the pump.
I haven't a prayer of remembering what I meant by "comment W. South" or maybe it's "comment W. Saute", so that's a rip.
6 September: a Sprawlmart tour. Bought an Arava melon at Sweet Corn Charlie's; not yet stricken off with a red line. Now it is, and I've looked up "arava". It's a melon named after a valley in Israel.
Rip.
13 Tues. Sept. 16, from 10:54 to 2:00. I got my permanent bridge, yay!
16 Sept 2016 Sat. — that was really a Friday. Sprawlmart Tour counterclockwise by way of 275 E. I'd intended to go by way of Pierceton, but when I was rolling out the driveway I realized that I was wearing the wrong shoes for Pierceton Road, and instead of going back, I chickened out.
The page notes that marble mortars like the one I use to make tooth powder cost $6.99 at Indiana Restaurant Supply, and long aprons are $9.69. I didn't note what colors they come in, but noticed red, white, and pink, and I think I saw black.
Ah, all that is the previous entry. Rip.
Left at 11:01, returned at 5:05, hardly any detail in the notebook. A squeaking UPS truck gave me a "Funny Noises" post for rec.bikes.tech.
I was nervous about taking only four bottles — three water and one tea — on a twenty-five mile loop where the only refilling spot is the CCAC, which took out the fountain years ago, and may have already turned the water off and blown the pipes for the winter, so I didn't bother to make the side trip. (Though the drinking fountain at the Winona Lake playground was shut off on Labor Day, the restrooms at the playground and the trailhead were both still open the last time I looked at them; the park boards might be waiting for the weather to turn cold.)
Whatever, there was still water in the last bottle when I got to Owen's West. I checked that the fountain at Pike Lake Park is still running, but having filled up with better-tasting water at Owen's, I didn't take any. I never touched the molten ice in the sandwich bags (until I dumped them on the rose bush upon my return). I did have half a cup of frozen switchel concentrate, which I put into the remaining half bottle of tea at Tippecanoe Park. This improved the tea so much that there is now a two-ounce container of shaved ginger, honey, and lemon juice in the ice-cube freezer.
I never did find McKenna Farms' farmstand. On the way south, I looked for a sign, ignoring the house numbers, and so was well past 450 S before I realized that I'd gone too far. On the way back, I looked for house numbers — and there weren't any. I did see a house with a big garden in approximately the right place. So I said "Dummy! It's after Labor Day!".
The Farm was open, but not manned, and you were supposed to put your money in a coffee can. I put in a dollar bill and a quarter, and took a box of cherry tomatoes and a banana pepper. That was a real honor system: upon taking the lid off to put my cash in, I saw that the can was full of bills and coins.
I put the pepper into tonight's hamburger soup, together with a volunteer pepper from the compost heap. I must frisk the plants for green peppers when the first frost is predicted — that won't be easy, because weeds conceal the holes I dug to get dirt to fill in the garden. I haven't seen the pumpkin lately. I think it's a pumpkin.
The turn from 200 S onto 400 W is marked Boggs Ditch on Google Maps, but I was so busy looking for the turn that I forgot to look for the ditch.
I ate my baloney-and-cheese sandwich at the Kiwanis shelter in Tippecanoe park, and finished off the tea I'd drunk half of on the way. There were three guys who had arrived in separate trucks in the shelter when I got there; when they left, I moved to one of their tables because the shaded bench on mine faced the river.
I lay down for ten minutes on a bench. Came to terms with not having a pillow between my head and the coarse metal mesh after five. When I decided to time my lie-down by counting three cars crossing the bridge (which gives off a distinctive noise), traffic suddenly let up.
When I was nearly ready to leave, another bike rider pulled into the shed, sat with his back to the table I'd abandoned, got a bottle out of his saddle bags and took a drink. No bottle cages! When he was done, he emptied the bottle onto the floor of the shelter. My first thought was "It's only two steps to the grass!" My second was that he must be very confident of getting a refill. Perhaps he was almost home. We traded a few comments on the lovely roads between us and Atwood before he left, but did not converse.
I finished putting the remains of lunch away, re-sunscreening the backs of my hands, etc., and hit 350 W. for the usual Fox Farm loop. I don't recall whether or not I changed shoes at The Farm; I think I thought about it, then just hobbled to the displays, where I bought a banana pepper and a box of cherry tomatoes. I changed shoes at Open Air Garden Center and walked around a while, and left my sandals on for the rest of the trip. I had another rest in the gazebo at Everything Outdoors, getting the back of my jersey black in the process. But whatever the dirt was, it came off when I rinsed out the sweat.
I refilled my bottles at Owen's West, but forgot to use the facilities. But it wasn't far to Pike Lake Park. Thence to Owen's East by way of the board walk. There I deposited a grocery bag I'd picked up on Tamarack Street, intending to drop it into a trash can down the street, but I'd attached it to the pannier in a place I couldn't reach without dismounting again, so I left it fluttering until I got to Owen's. I sat on the smokers' bench — which wasn't in use — and called Dave. After learning that he hadn't yet taken supper into his own hands, I went to Penguin Point and bought four chicken thighs.
Eager to eat the chicken before it got cold, I forgot about my panniers and when I unpacked them most of the ice had melted. And the newspaper in the bottom of the cooler was saturated with condensation.
I wasn't particularly tired — unless forgetting to unpack was a symptom — so I think I may take the Spring Creek tour the first time I like the prediction. I don't have a near-zero chance of getting rained on tomorrow (September 28), so I think I'll take the dump tour. There's only one rejected grocery bag stuck in the spare wheel; perhaps I should inspect them.
One more unreported page: The following Saturday, 24 September, I made the usual Farmers' Markets tour. McKenna Farms was selling scotch eggs, but I'd just had breakfast. By the time I wanted one, I was crossing Detroit Street on the way to the boardwalk. I did buy three cookies from another vendor.
Came back through the park on Center Lake to see whether anything was happening, and found a participatory art festival. I didn't participate, but fantasized about taking my embroidery gig to such an event. Pure fantasy, since I can't handle more than one customer at a time.
Walking past the fenced flower garden on my way out of the park, I noticed a brick building about where I remembered seeing the other restroom building, did a double take: "Wait a minute! The only access is through the garden!", then realized that it wasn't a potty shed, it was a potting shed.
I went through the garden to take a closer look at the shed, then crossed McDonald's parking lot to the walkway past the building that I thought I'd seen, observed that is is still in service, and wended through walkways back to Indiana Street and turned onto Fort Wayne. And shortly thereafter, thought about the scotch eggs.
Walked with Dave to Spring Fountain Park, then climbed the hill to Sunday Lane. At least a mile.
The usual walk. I think I did significantly better than a mile. I remembered to climb to Club 56 before leaving the building, but just as I was about to put my hat on, I remembered that I had something in my pocket that belonged in the soup-kitchen contribution box, so I got an extra flight of stairs in anyhow.
The "something" was a well-worn five-dollar bill. When I found it in a piece of junk mail, my first thought was "They must expect to get a lot of money out of me if they are willing to spend that much to get my attention." So I read the ad primed to see a scam. When I managed to figure out what they were on about, it appeared to be an invitation to go to a Web site and take part in a scientific study paid for by corporations to get information about what their customers want. If they hadn't warned me with the attempted bribe, I might have fallen for it. The URL given probably bypasses the page that says "This survey is by invitation only because our participants are rigorously selected. Click here to participate."
Approximately. Google Maps can't show the part of Sunday Lane I walked along. Yesterday I left my debit card in the ATM, so today I had to walk to the bank and order a new one. But the person who found my old card turned it in; aside from the fee for a new card, no harm has been done.
The teller said that as soon as possible ATMs are going to change to giving you the card back before they give you the money.
4 October 2016
Wild guess at the time: neither my start time nor my finish time are noted, but I got home before sunset — just barely — and I left the teller machine at 12:35.
And the distance is a bit under.
This was intended to be the dump tour followed by going to Aldi by way of Wooster, twenty-two miles.
I'm not sure what-all led to my late start; Tuesday isn't one of the days when I participate in clearing out for Roomba. But I didn't worry about it any; the prediction was for dry the entire day, and Dave had already taken supper into his own hands.
Finally, fed, sunscreened, suited up, everything packed, iced tea on ice, I prepared to wheel the bike out of the garage — and found the rear tire flatter than a flitter.
So I pumped it up and rode it to the Trailhouse. He couldn't find the leak and finally resorted to the bucket of water trick, whereupon he discovered a very small hole and trashed the tube. Then he installed my spare tube, which blew up in his face. I brought that one home because I've been wanting to glue pieces of inner tube to the toes of my Duegis. Bill was twelve dollars plus tax; I told him it would have been cheap at twice the price. Didn't realize how cheap until I punched it into Quicken: only five dollars was for the labor.
Thought it was pedalling a little hard as I headed for the teller machine. Heard a funny noise — turned out to be a plastic bag in the pannier brushing against the spokes — and found that the tire was rubbing on the chainstay. Odd that he didn't line it up better than that, I thought; I opened the quick release, straightened the wheel, closed the release, spun the wheel, pedalled off — and discovered that he hadn't tightened the release enough. Tightening it with my dainty fingers wasn't easy, and entailed many stops before I got to the teller machine. And many nervous pauses to spin the back wheel thereafter!
As I was approaching Owens, contemplating using the smoker's bench to change my shoes, no I don't want to change until I get to the hospital — I realized that I had not only put on thick socks with my sandals, I had rummaged around for socks that had not worn thin!
Disinclined to go back after all the other delays, I reflected that the Duegis lace to the toes, so it might work, and indeed it did, save that the socks rumpled a bit under my toes. Which seemed odd, as the Duegis have too much toe (hence my desire to make the toes a bit more non-skid to make it easier to get into the clips) and the socks aren't a speck too long. Perhaps they get pushed back a bit when shoved into the narrow toes. [Just wiggled my toes: the socks rumple under the toes when I'm wearing sandals! Not as noticeable when the toes aren't confined.]
Arrived at Goodwill, offloaded one washrag and a jello mold — I hadn't prepared for this tour very well, and had little to dump at any stop. Attempted to pour my honey-lemon-ginger into my remaining tea, discovered that I should have mixed the honey and lemon together before freezing it. Rinsing the container with tea got some of the honey. Then I put water into the container and left it in the sun while I shopped, and that worked. Mostly.
I bought a "T-shirt dress", found my debit card missing, paid cash, eventually realized that I'd left the debit card in the teller machine. Hence today's expedition.
I spent over half an hour in Meijer, looking in vain for pill boxes (surely they do have a rack of pillboxes) and establishing that they don't have lip-salve boxes. But then I never found the cake-decorating department, only the "basic crafts" department.
Next item on notes is "shoes vs. wat", plus a squiggle that could be "er" or "ch". ????
Lunch at Panda Express. Some posts I couldn't see the point of have been removed from the outdoor eating area.
Seems to be the same clerk every time; this time she got a kid's meal box out without asking. Brown rice and beef; next time I'll look for something with more vegetables in it. The soda machine was out of CO2. I always take the brewed tea anyway. Despite this tea and the tea I'd brought along, I was feeling pretty tired and had gone a quarter mile past the turn onto 175 N before noticing that the addresses were south of 100 N. (Note: the turn is only a few feet south of the intersection with Vicky Lane.)
I followed 175 N to 300 E, where I decided to refrain from turning north and following 200 N to 600 E, instead I would turn south and keep going until I got to Wooster Road. Since this cut about an hour off the trip and I got home just before sunset, this was a wise move. (I also got home very tired, so the chief purpose of the expedition was achieved.)
Almost immediately, I stopped at the self-service farm stand and bought one "candy" onion and one red onion. I hadn't gone too far before realizing that I'd put them down while getting exact change out of my wallet and forgotten to pick them up again.
It was 5:34 when I got to my private staircase behind the Marathon station. Surely somebody knows why those steps were built. I once saw a massive truck parked near the steps while the driver bought something at the Marathon station, but I don't think that they were put in for him either. I took the side trip even though I knew the restaurant-supply place was closed. As I expected, I could see all I wanted to of Man Cave Motor Sports from the outside. I don't think there is an inside. I was fooled by a large "open" sign in the Indiana Restaurant Supply window, but on closer inspection it was a sign that is supposed to be lit up. The Antique store was also closed. I walked up the grass to pass Aunt Millie's Outlet to verify that it was closed (and to avoid riding up the slope to the stoplight), then realized that the Marathon station was on a major highway and might well sell caffeine, but the clerk had never heard of Smith Brother's Caffeine Drops. I saw lots of caffeine drinks, but nothing among the tablets.
On to Aldi, where I pruned my shopping list a lot because I didn't want to have to pack large stuff into my panniers. There was still ice to pack braunschweiger etc. on. Much to my delight, "crunchy vital cookies" are back. I bought two bags without realizing that I'd got one each of chocolate chip and classic. I like the classic better. Adding chocolate covers the oatmeal and sunflower-seed flavors, but it doesn't taste chocolate.
My notes say that I left Aldi at 6:54. It was still light when I got home, but Dave was starting to worry. I opened my phone and said "I'm in front of the house", but I forgot in my rush that just picking up doesn't answer a phone any more, and before I could push the button, it went to voicemail.
I think that sunset was 7:19 yesterday. There was a lot of civil twilight left.
On Saturday, I went on Grace College's autumn nature hike and stood around a lot, then on Sunday I went to church and stood around a lot. In retrospect, this wasn't the best day to come home from church by way of the Hotel for the first time. This was about the same as the bank tour (1.8 miles), except that I detoured a little to look at Studebaker Spring.
Monday was washday, despite some ache in the arthritic joint, so I didn't go out on Tuesday even though it was dry. Today I went to Owen's to pick up my prescriptions, and buy some food. Meant to buy fold-lock sandwich bags (the only non-zipper bags available), but once again that slot on the shelf was empty. I put on a scarf and threw my do-rag in the wash to be put away for the winter next Monday, but the ten-day forecast says that the Tuesday after next will be warm, so I may take it out again.
And, if I recall correctly, This Columbus Day! Nobody seems to have noticed.
Late start; had to wash dishes, clean the cat box, pick up the bedroom, and find a wrench to fit the nut below my saddle. That didn't take long after I gave up searching the inch-measure wrenches and Dave dug out his roll of metric wrenches. And the fifteen-millimeter wrench is ratchet!
Raised the nose: I distinctly recall that I set the saddle half a notch too low the previous time I adjusted it — which may be why I didn't notice the slow decline until long after it became spectacular. But there were no notches; it just slid into the desired position.
Which was very comfortable, but before I got to Owen's the nose was about forty-five degrees down again. I had socked it down as hard as I could.
When time came to change into cleats, I decided that I wasn't going on any roads that called for cleats on a saddle that was that far out of line, and went to Aldi by the easiest route.
So my route was McKinley, Harrison, the Pillbox, backtrack to the hospital for lunch, Martin's Menard's, Big R, Aldi, and home.
All the hospital cafeteria's food is packed to go, you can buy a cold sandwich to take with you, and it's quite in order to bring in a sack lunch to eat at one of their tables. I regretted having been chicken to bring in my bottle of tea to drink with my sandwich.
I didn't look to see whether the beverages included tea. I think they were all bottled.
Must have been hot coffee around somewhere — even hospitals take it for granted that everyone is addicted to caffeine and doesn't mind drinking burnt beans to get it.
Got home just in time to warm up a container of mock-chinese food for supper (Taipei; pretty good with some left-over baby corn and water chestnuts added.)
After supper I fetched the wrenches again and took the saddle-rail clamp apart, and found an abandoned spider nest inside. Also found that it did have notches, but those on the outer halves of the clamp were worn quite flat on top. The grooves on the inner halves appeared to be sharp, however. The manufacturer must have used a cheaper steel for the outer halves.
I cleaned the threads of the bolt with Tri-Flo, rubbed some other places with the rag I'd used to wipe the Tri-Flo off, put everything back together — using rust marks on the rails to put the saddle back where it had been because I'd forgotten to take note of the fore-and-aft position while taking it apart — and socked the nuts down as hard as I could. Then I called Dave in to lean on them, and he said they didn't turn any more.
Then I put my jersey back on — I'd eaten in my cycling suit, but the jersey over my T-shirt was too warm for indoors — and rode around the block. The saddle didn't shift, but I should have moved it half an inch forward of where it had been. I think my spine has shortened a tad since I last adjusted the saddle. But I don't want to fiddle with that clamp any more; I've been putting up with pushing myself back for years, after all — and now I won't keep sliding forward.
Every time I stopped at Aldi this summer, I grumbled at the absence of the bench that used to sit out front. It was handy for setting things on while packing my panniers, and several times I've eaten lunch outside the store and had to choose between standing up and sitting on the pavement.
Today I noticed that the bench just inside the door is the missing bench. It's been cleaned up, but hasn't changed.
With washing the dishes, fiddling with my saddle, and inspecting the rollators at the Pillbox, I stood around a lot today, which my back mentioned to me while I was standing around packing my bike with about fifty percent more groceries than it can carry. (If I didn't make a habit of carrying a bag of plastic bags, I could never have done it. And, thanks to wadded-up bags, I got home with three unsquashed avocados.)
So I took a dose of aspirin soon after supper. I think that this was after riding around the block to try out my saddle.
Oh, yeah, lots more standing while I was taking apart the saddle clamp.
And I caught myself standing on the left pedal several times. You'd think that a left-foot-down rider would stand on the right pedal while coasting, but it doesn't appear to work that way.
Perhaps I can cultivate a habit of standing on both pedals while coasting. Or, at least, a habit of shifting to both pedals whenever I notice that I'm aggravating my arthritis.
On Saturday's ride, I found myself standing on the right pedal a lot. Also practiced standing on both pedals. I may have to give in and fiddle with the clamp again, to move the saddle that half inch forward.
Today I shortened the walk to the nominal mile because it was raining, but I did climb up and down the upper half of the stairway to Club 56 a few times.
Saturday's ride was also shorter, because I wanted to stop at Zales for a walker catalog, and therefore came back mostly by Fort Wayne.
Got a few extra feet in because I didn't recognize Ace Hardware from the Fort Wayne side.
Sometime I'm going to cut out the "Warsaw" side of my frequently-dampened map to make it easier to consult. It is too small to be a good guide to street names, but is a good map of the middle of the county; I seldom turn it over to read the county side.
So I paused in the middle of the above paragraph to put a slick-paper map into the newspaper sleeve I use for a map case and bring in the worn map and the walker catalog.
And now it's well past nap time.
Pretty much down to pumpkins and apples. I bought a half gallon of cider and came back by way of the boardwalk. Absent-mindedly also came back by way of Owen's even though I had shopped yesterday, but Cleveland is a good place to get across Center Street.
I caught myself sitting on the nose of the saddle often enough that I think that moving it forward a whole inch might not be too far.
Prediction looks good for a long ride on Monday, if I can think of a place to go. It's a bit soon to go to Spring Creek. Perhaps I can check out the farm stand at 175 N & 300 E, then come back by way of the animal shelter.
Only a mile of walking, but I climbed stairs both before and after the service.
And fiddle-faddled around in the library until I was late for lunch and wanted to go straight home.
I hadn't deprecated any grocery bags since my previous trip to Owen's, I had only one magazine for the emergency room (and the magazine rack was rather picked-over too; I should have taken a QST, but on my previous visit they had too many of those. I had nothing to drop at Good Will, and I forgot that one reason for choosing this route was that it went past the animal shelter and didn't take the jerky treats that Al rejected.
I bought two apples at Arden's Gardens — I hadn't noticed that the farm stand on 300 E just south of 175 N had a name before — a bag of peanuts in the shell at Tractor Supply, a loaf of bread and a bag of hot-dog buns at Aunt Millie's, and as much groceries as I could cram into the panniers at Aldi.
Having my shoes and my windbreaker along complicated shopping.
I put on thick socks, then remembered that I was using some cleats-required roads. But with sandals in three-shirt weather, I need thick socks. So I put thin socks into the bag with the Duegis. Changed into cleats at the hospital, back to sandals —leaving the thin socks on because I was going to be mostly inside— at Goodwill, back to cleats at Panda Express, sandals for going into Tractor Supply. They had overshoe-type boots, but none with a zipper down the side and I couldn't get my feet into them. And the low overshoes allowed space for thick heels even though they were men's overshoes.
At Aunt Millie's, I put the thick socks back on because I meant to wear sandals for the rest of the trip. I swapped shoes for sandals, then went to the bike to put the shoes in and take the thick socks out, went back to the steps to sit down, thought for a moment about removing the thin socks and putting them back into the shoe sack, then put the thick socks on over them. Next time, perhaps I'll wear both pairs from the beginning. Especially after I switch to the old fleece-lined cleated shoes.
When I was leaving Sprawlmart, at that awkward place where you turn right and left at the same time, I heard a wayward bungee cord engage the spokes when I was halfway through the intersection. I was lucky twice: it refrained from doing anything other than making alarming noises until I got to a safe place to pull off the road, and it was a badly-weathered cord of little value. Three times: the hook broke off entirely, so the cord unwrapped itself when I unhooked the other end and took the tension off. I couldn't find the hook, but it was plastic and shouldn't endanger tires.
I probably could have found the hook if I'd been willing to walk back into the intersection. I threw the rest of the cord into a trash bin at the Marathon station, where I'd taken the bike to work on it, expecting a prolonged period of unwinding and unwedging.
Calculating the mileage is proving extremely frustrating. I got the route all finished, then discovered that the early parts had been tied in knots while I was working on the later parts. Then when I started over, XP's insistence that when I click, I must mean double click or triple click or a click on something that isn't even on the same screen went into overdrive, so that it is nearly impossible to move the map around so that I can look at it.
I shall persevere, but ye cats! Somewhere there must be a map program that I can buy!
Perhaps that is what "Map My Ride" is all about. It certainly isn't, as the various links to it seem to imply, a place to look for rides that you might want to take. There is at no point any hint of why one might want to ride around this loop instead of some other loop.
The re-take has got as far as Goodwill — 4.9 miles.
It doesn't help that 175 N isn't visible unless the zoom is so in that one can see only a few feet of road at a time — and even then it's pale grey on a slightly-less-pale grey.
Whew! Arden's Gardens is 8.7 miles.
Animal Shelter, 11.6 miles
Now why does Google want me to go a mile down 100 S and come back on Route 30? I'll just skip Tractor Supply. ?? 11.4 miles to 2831 Wooster Road — minus two-tenths of a mile from the animal shelter? But it did plot the route to go past Tractor Supply. (I definitely won't try to tell Google that I got into their parking lot through the back door.)
To Aldi, 12.7 miles. Oh, dear, that messed up the route from McKinley Street to Goodwill — or, more likely, messing up that route accounts for the negative two-tenths of a mile.
I give up. About time for me to go back to measuring paper maps with a knotted string. Even if I had to knot a fresh string for every trip, it would be less trouble.
No reason I couldn't get up, hop on the bike, get a mammogram, and then go for a long ride tomorrow — except that I'm too tired tonight to set things up so I can. My driving pants are already pocket-stocked from this morning's appointment. I was also too tired to set up yesterday evening, and the weather was a bit iffy.
It isn't reasonable to get this tired from an annual checkup — there wasn't even any bad news, and most of his advice confirmed what I already knew. I suppose that I wasn't recovered from yesterday when I went.
One-mile walk yesterday — no side trips because it was raining. And cold, but my costume was plenty warm on the trip out, and I'd brought my yellow poncho and a spun-silk scarf for the trip back. But I didn't climb up to Club 56 for a little lie-down before walking home. Things one already knows are so hard to learn!
I was the assistant supervisor at a poodle-decorating table at the Fall Family Festival. We got rid of rather a lot of poodles (outlines on colored paper, with beads and cotton balls to glue to them). But the kids came in bunches! Sometimes I forgot and stood to bend over one of the children. Even when sitting, there was frequently awkward bending.
I seem to be fully recovered today. I was bright and cheerful all morning despite having gotten up two hours early, and then forgetting to eat breakfast.
I parked in the farthest corner of the parking lot — almost; that space was occupied. And about sunset, I walked to the park and went down the spiral slide.
I plan to visit the farmers' markets and check out Center Lake Park tomorrow. So far, I haven't come up with a place to go on the way home. Perhaps the Crazy Egg for lunch?
How about The Pill Box, to buy a walker? I should have gone to Culver's for lunch, then continued out Patterson Road, but I went straight home instead.
I picked up the walker yesterday, so had to do the wash today.
My new new card should be here in five or six business days. I think I'll mark Nov. 7 on the calendar.
Well! I was expecting only five miles. But as I was climbing Chestnut Street on my way to Wooster, I reflected that I hate Wooster — at least the part of it that I intended to use — and Pierceton isn't bad, so I hung a right. Then after crossing 30, I turned right onto Old 30 and went to see whether Center Center had a back door. Turned out that I was confoozled, and what I was actually peering at across 30 was The American Table. And the driveway also leads to DePuy's parking lot, and I'm pretty sure that the gate on their back door allows leaving even when it's barred to entry. All I could see from Old 30 was that there was a board fence between the housing development and the businesses on 30l. And I did realize, when I got to DePuy's back door (didn't look to see whether it was open) that I could have gone back across 30 on Orthopedic Drive.
And I probably would have, but when I was leaving Aldi, I intended to stop at Big R. But by then I didn't have any place to put a bag of cat chow, so I went on by.
So I went to Patterson road by 225 E instead of by way of by 175 E.
I also made a side trip on Provident Drive to make an appointment to get blood drawn.
Then back to Owen's by way of Harrison.
I did get my groceries onto the panniers without squashing my bread, but It's just as well that I resisted the temptation to buy a quart of chocolate-cherry yogurt.
I didn't measure the time, but it was after three when I left and before five when I got back.
When I got back from yesterday's tour, I got two phone calls and three e-mails telling me my prescriptions were ready, so this afternoon, when it turned out that both avocados were too hard to make guacamole, I decided to take a short ride instead. While I was dressing, Dave brought in the mail, which included a paper that had to be signed and returned to the Pill Box, so I added eight tenths of a mile to the 1.6-mile trip. And returning by way of the Beyer Farm Trail added another three tenths — according to Google Maps, which doesn't realize that Owen's Market has an entrance on Fort Wayne street, so I deducted one of the three extra tenths, ending up at just five miles.
I just calculated that a different way, and it still came out five.
Then I right-clicked on Owen's back door, asked for "directions to here", and it came out, as I had guessed, as one mile from the Pill Box to Owen's. One point six from here to Owen, twice, eight tenths from Owen to Pill Box by way of Harrison, one mile from Pill Box to Owen's. Five again.
We went to First Friday and walked around some, but my back was bothering me and there was nothing to look at so we didn't walk much. Mad Anthony's Philly Cheese Steak was delicious.
And it's really easy to get down off a bar stool. No strain on the back at all.
Plus whatever I added by turning onto Prosperity Street by mistake. Also climbed a flight of stairs at the library, and walked about an hour inside Walmart.
Dropped deprecated bags at Owens, a copy of QST at the emergency room, and a copy of Firebirds Soaring at the library. The Farmers' Markets are done for the season, so I turned around at the library and went up Park Avenue to Walmart.
I took Beyer Farm Trail from Owen's to the E.R., for the extra two tenths of a mile — and because I'd done Harrison yesterday. While crossing the first boardwalk, the fwip-fwip of a leaf stuck to my front tire annoyed me, and I stopped to pick it off. It was stuck to the tire because somewhere I'd run over some shit. Luckily, the leaf had a clean end. I thumb-tested my tires after one or two of my stops, and thought twice before touching the tire! It never did wear off. I must remember to hose my tires tomorrow evening. And clean my brakes while I'm at it.
But, oops, there are no more evenings; tomorrow we'll be on single daylight time.
On my way from the library to Walmart, I paused at Subway to buy a six-inch "sub of the day" and a glass of tea. The gentleman ahead of me paid my bill; why, I don't know, but I must find a soup kitchen to give some money to fairly soon.
After leaving Walmart, I went to Kohl's Plaza, made brief visits to a shoe store and a dollar store, then went to Taco Bell for dessert. The only dessert wasn't appetizing, so I had a small "loaded baked potato" burrito. I couldn't find either water or tea among the beverage offerings. The burrito was good, and didn't need any sauce, so I dropped my packet of sauce into my food-emergency kit.
When leaving, I took a side trip to see what was in the building next door, and the near end of it is a frozen-yogurt shop!
I suppose I'll have to take that loop again. But I didn't check out any books while I was at the library. I'm sure they have some Perserchia; I must be spelling it wrong.
I took my Duegis, but never put them on. From now until March, I suppose I'd better just leave them home except when I start out wearing them. Luckily, I had a very short shopping list, so did not resent the space they occupied.
The usual one-mile walk. I went a little bit out of the way, but not far.
Hung clothes on the line.
Half mile walk from Gorden Rec Center to home. I stopped at the church to refill the ice trays, but didn't think of using the staircases until I was well down Chestnut Street. I did go up and down two sets of four steps that led to private walks.
I'm thinking of going to Leesburg tomorrow.
Chickened out and went to Sprawlmart — and came back by Wooster Road, so it was minimum distance.
I might go to Leesburg on Saturday, if I can come up with a reason to go.
Made meat loaf this morning, to be baked for supper. I may have stood too long while doing it, but I did remember to drag over a stool to sit on while chopping vegetables.
So I asked the guys on Weekly Group Rides; they best they could come up with was that the Old Mill will be a brewery next summer. But if I go to Aldi by way of Pierceton, and leave Winona Lake on the Heritage Trail and stay south until I get to the graveyard, it will be nearly nineteen miles. I've prepared the bike and laid out clothes, in the hope of getting off early enough to get home by sunset.
And I intend to empty the memo book:
Everything served at the hospital cafeteria is packed to go, and it's quite all right to bring in outside food and drink. But between meals, it may be all vending-machine type food.
If one doesn't mind crossing 30 twice, Culver isn't far from there.
I've got to break the habit of drying my hands on my clothes; damp is no longer good.
The bench that's missing from in front of Aldi has been just inside the door all this time. Doesn't help with loading the bike, but it does help when I want to sit down to eat lunch, or lie down to flatten my back.
I think I did transcribe that remark before, and forgot to strike it off.
I had to have arrived home after I left Aldi at 2:17, and before sunset.
This ride was written up here, but there are two cash expenses that haven't been posted to Quicken.
Leaf left beside the bookkeeping computer.
This page was fully transcribed. I still have those jerky treats. Perhaps I can make a jiggly-jog at Wooster tomorrow and go to the animal shelter. <checks map> It would be a side trip, but the loop is too short; I have put the jerky treats into the insulated pannier.
Written up on 1 November. The new card came on the eighth, and I activated it on the ninth.
Transcribed under its own date. I must start making green X marks on leaves that I transcribe and leave in the book.
Ditto.
I appear not to have celebrated Guy Fawkes' Day. I left Aldi at 5:11, and must have gone straight home from there, since sunset would have been in the neighborhood of 6:30; I commented that it was before Jet Lag Without Going Anywhere Day, and sunset is just before half-past five now.
Transcribed on the tenth. I didn't mention that I stopped and took pictures of the ditch I would fall into if I dropped off the pavement on US 30; I still haven't gotten around to getting the pictures out of my phone onto the computer so that I can see whether any of them are any good.
#
And that leaves a nice clean memo pad for tomorrow. I plan to go to Aldi by way of Pierceton, Wooster, the animal shelter, Tractor Supply, Aunt Millies, and Big R. Lots of stops before I buy groceries, but all we need is eggs.
Way past time for me to make my own under-saddle bag. Be nice to get the bag of tools off the rack so I have a flat place to bungee down purchases.
About six hours, and I felt good the whole time.
But during supper the skipped nap caught up with me, so I'll measure the distance tomorrow. My planning map said twenty-one miles, but when I started to use it I noticed that Google had changed it when I wasn't looking —when will I learn to check every inch of the route just before printing?— and there were a couple of places I chose to deviate from the plan.
I must have stood too long too often, because my hip seized up while we were in the restaurant, and it still hurts. I feel guilty using the walker when I can get along perfectly well without it, but it does make walking easier — and walking without hitches and limps probably makes a joint heal faster. But if I still feel stiff in the morning, I'll ride the Trek; it's less embarrassing.
When I was recovering last spring, I was so thrilled when I realized that I'd healed enough that I could back the walker. The new rolling walker will go in any direction, no fuss; I can even turn in place. I think that buying it was a very good idea.
I just wish Dr. Darr didn't agree!
Hills were much easier than I expected. I took most of them on the big ring — though not shifting down required switchbacking now and again. I think I'm ready for the Spring Creek tour.
I did ride the pedal-powered wheelchair —walking up the hill on Chestnut, of course— but I climbed to Club 56 and did some exercises twice. Floor exercises felt weird in the voluminous skirts I'd worn against the chill.
My hip hurt a lot in the first half of the night, and I was stiff for a few minutes in the morning, but I noticed it very little today.
I thought I'd missed 400 S when I came to Wilcox road, which isn't on the map I printed, and went back to Steven Drive before realizing that the line on my part-of-the-county map wasn't a road.
Google says that that is .4 miles, so I need to add .8 to my total.
Checking the maps showed that Wilcox was a better route than 400 S, so I took it.
Google says that it's half a mile to the Animal Welfare League from Wooster Road at 325 E; to conserve waypoints, I'll skip that side trip and add a mile to my total.
Okay, I asked directions to Wilcox at 275 E and got the route that I took! 3.7 miles
To the graveyard, by the route I took *and* it doesn't appear to have messed with the earlier part of the route: 8.5 miles.
I didn't swirl around in Pierceton much, so let's say I went straight to Van Ness Road:
It doesn't appear to have messed with the earlier part of the route, but it says I went back to 700 E instead of going up 13. Looks to be about the same distance, so I'll let it slide: 11.0 miles.
I'll get bold and ask it the way to Aldi from Van Ness:
Ta dah! The correct route, and early parts appear to be un-messed with. 16.0 miles.
Holding breath: to Winona Lake Senior Center:
18.5 — but it persists in thinking that Argonne Road is open to old ladies on bikes. On inspecting the beginning of the route on higher magnification, I see that it sent me down Union Street instead of Boy's City Drive, but that's about the same distance.
Okay, one more waypoint sends me down McKinley: 18.7 miles. One mile for the side trip: 19.7. Eight tenths for the wrong turn: 20.4
Now what does "dumping lucky" mean on my notes? Ah, when I stopped at the dollar store, I leaned my bike on a contribution shed, and changed my shoes sitting on a sofa some miscreant or illiterate had dumped there. It hadn't been rained on yet; I hope someone gets it before it does.
Tried to start typing and found that the file was so long that there was no room for WORDS.MAS. Since doing without a spell checker makes me unhappy, I split INDEX.HTM into two files. I absent-mindedly split before June instead of after, but I don't think that that will matter.
Today I walked to the end of the driveway and back. Also hung up half a load of clothes, and went to the garden for some greens to have with my lunch.
Last Sunday I walked the usual mile, but climbed only one extra flight of steps. Stood up too long while washing dishes.
Trying to measure last Friday's trip: Google retains its fascination with Argonne Road but does allow me to click on Lincoln Street — I missed the turn onto Harrison somehow. Then it adamantly refuses to allow me to turn left off Dubois onto Provident.
2.1 miles to the Pill Box. From the Pill Box to the blood draw: .3 miles.
From the Pill Box to the ER: (where I had lunch at the cafeteria) .6 miles.
to the intersection of 75 N and 175 E: 2.0 miles
to the Oswego Mini Mart, where I bought a sub and ate half: 8.9 miles
For a total of 11 miles, but Google is getting flaky, so let's start over:
Clicking on "show bike routes" unflakyed it, so I'll continue:
to Old 30: 16.6 miles, 18.6 total (ignoring wrong turn in Chapman Lake)
to Holiday Inn (where I changed shoes): 17.6
to Aldi: 17.9 miles.
From the Pill Box to McKinley Street: 19.6 miles, and I'm out of waypoints.
From Jefferson & McKinley to the Senior Center: 1.1 miles. (total of 21.1 miles: 2.1 + 17.9 + 1.1)
Wrong turn: from 450 N to C30 Lane: .2 miles, back again: .4: total 21.5 miles.
Not as far as I wanted, but judging by the steepness of the last few hills on 300 E, just about right.
Now to see whether I can make a quarter century out of this Saturday's trip to the Winter Farmer's Market. The newspaper says I can count on eating a scotch egg while I'm there.
The usual mile walk — I came back past the circle walk, and walked along the canal instead of on Park Avenue, which added at least four-tenths of a mile. I climbed some extra stairs, but skimped on the pushups.
It ain't the slick roads that will keep me from maintaining condition — it's that five o'clock curfew!
Yesterday's Tour:
I mapped out a 22.3-mile ride: after going to the Winter Farmer's Market at the pavilion, I would go to the Crazy Egg for lunch, then take 150 W and Sheldon Drive to 350 N and come down 175 E to Aldi, then home.
I dithered over which cleats to wear. My toes got cold in the fleece-lined pair, so I was glad that I hadn't worn the ventilated Duegis even though the left cleat of the fleece shoes is shallow and doesn't work very well.
I did get a scotch egg at the market, and they'd thoughtfully supplied a table to sit at. I noticed on the rules for vendors (displayed on a table near the entrance in hope of getting more vendors) that the table was supplied to keep people in the building longer, in the hope that they'd buy something while there.
I also had a cup of the free tea, supplied for the same reason. It was still too hot to drink when I'd finished my egg, but pouring it into the paper saucer the egg had come in and then pouring it back into the cup cooled it. The square corner of the saucer made a good pouring spout.
The building had functioning restrooms. I didn't think to see whether they were plumbingly near the closed-for-the-season restrooms on the outside of the building.
From home to the pavilion: 3 miles
Then I went out Center Street and through the Zimmer parking lot to the Chinworth Trail and crossed the Chinworth Bridge to Old 30.
From the pavilion to the Crazy Egg: 4.6 miles.
There were no cars in the parking lot. I had to change into sandals to climb the stairs and read the sign on the door. It just said "closed" with no word as to why. The hours sign said that they were open on Saturdays, and served food until two and coffee until seven.
Being shod for walking, I poked around behind the building and across the railroad tracks. You can see 100 N from the tracks. I despaired upon seeing a ditch and a fence between the tracks and the roadway, but just at the west end of a guardrail on 100 N there is a nice little pathway between the end of the fence and the end of the guardrail. Not intended for bikes, but it looks as though the hardest part of the crossing will be the tracks.
So I've got a new route to the Crazy Egg, the next time I feel like going there.
From there, the planned route: back along Old 30 to Westsomething Estates, through the trailer park to 350 W, on 200 N to Fox Farm to 150 N.
I stopped halfway up the last hill before 30 to changed into walking shoes, and wore sandals for the rest of the trip. I also walked the hill on 300 N.
From the Crazy Egg to Taco Bell: 6.5 miles.
I toured the dollar store before eating a quesadilla, and then it was 2:33 and I didn't feel comfortable about curfew (not to mention that I was getting saddle sore), so I went into Walmart to see whether they had the concentrated beef stock I hadn't been able to buy at Kroger. Despite the aid of a clerk and a senior clerk, they didn't, but I did find Malt-O-Meal and bought one box each of plain and chocolate.
Then I went straight home, by way of 250 N and Bell Drive.
Taco Bell — Winona Lake Senior Center: 6.4 miles.
I took the one-mile walk on both Thursday and Sunday, climbed to both Club 56 and the Prayer Room both times, did "push-ups" in both rooms, went home by Ninth Street and Park Avenue.
on Saturday:
Instead of writing up this ride, I'll paste in my post to rec.bikes.misc followed by a piece of the Banner, and maybe edit them a bit.
AG: Dead for a runny nose
I'll try to lay the blame on the Crazy Egg Cafe: I ordered tea with my lunch, as is my habit when I have to skip my nap. They brought me a pint mug of delicious spiced tea, but about halfway down the mug, I checked the tag and discovered that it was "herbal", which usually means that they've left out the herbs that have caffeine.
I'm still trying to work my way up to being capable of riding the thirty miles to Spring Creek and back. Between the early curfew in December and the slick roads in January and February, I'll probably be starting from scratch in March, as has been my custom for the last few years.
At the moment, the biggest barrier is that I'm out of places to go. For today, I was able to exploit a back door into the Crazy Egg that turned a trip of six point eight miles into eleven point two. It's a pleasant route, but alas the only dish on the menu that looked suitable for a little old lady who was about to engage in vigorous exercise was the half order of biscuits and gravy. This was an entire English muffin (They were out of biscuits; I had arrived a little after one and the kitchen closes at two.) and at least half a pint of bits of meat (seemed to be mostly ham) stuck together with white sauce. This was tasty, but if I don't want the same again, I'll have to tackle something like a three-egg omelet. I never ate more than one egg at a sitting when I was young and skinny! I'm sure that they box one's left-overs, but boxes don't fit at all well in panniers if you want to stop at a supermarket too, and few breakfast dishes travel well in sandwich bags.
From there I took 350 W to 200 N, came back by Fox Farm and the roundabout, sat for a while at Lake Street Plaza, went south on West Street to Fort Wayne, went to Owen's Market by way of the Beyer Farm Trail, and came home by McKinley (crossing Center on Cleveland, which has a light, but I didn't bother Google Maps with that detail.) 10.1 miles, a total of twenty-one point three.
All this time, the temperature wasn't much above freezing. I lost count of the number of paper towels and napkins that I saturated; I disposed of a handfull every time I passed a trash can.
By the time I got to Owen's, fishing a piece of paper out of my pocket, blowing my nose, and putting the paper away wasn't something that I paid a lot of attention to.
Now I'm always telling you guys that parking lots are more dangerous than the open road. DO I READ MY OWN COLUMNS?
As I mounted up after packing my panniers with fruit and vegetables, I reflected that I was tired and ought to be extra careful. DID I LISTEN TO MYSELF?
I proceeded west in front of the store, going into the oncoming lane of the aisle so that I could see into the prescription-pickup aisle behind the stop sign. Then I coasted along the continuation of the aisle, planning to turn left but entirely unaware that I was approaching an intersection, let alone remembering that the other guy had the right of way.
My nose was already clogged with tears, so I pulled a piece of dinner napkin out of my back pocket and raised it to my nose — and then realized that I was about to coast into the path of a car. With all my monkey ancestors screaming "Don't let go of what you are holding! You'll fall a hundred feet!" and no time to boot up my cortex, I couldn't brake. I swerved into a triangle painted "not for parking or driving", and —still controlling the bike with only one hand— I nearly fell off while stopping. I sure hope the driver isn't acquainted with "The only problem is that cars are bigger than bikes so we need long skinny parks" Kip Shuter.
As it happened, all I paid was deep embarrassment and a salutatory lack of confidence during the remaining mile and a half of my ride, but I could have died of a runny nose.
Banner:
Saturday, I rode twenty-one miles, circumnavigating Winona Lake. I stopped at The Crazy Egg for lunch. Alas, there is no motivation to do it again, because the half-order of biscuits and gravy was the only little-old-lady size dish on the menu.
Not to mention that riding through the country is boring now that the crops are in and the farmstands are closed for the season. But I heard half a dozen roosters crow, and passed a front yard with several hens and two ducks.
I wish chickens were allowed in town. Waterfowl are here in plenty, but there is something so comfortable about fat, busily-scratching hens.
I stopped at Owen's Market and bought frozen blueberries, some ripe bananas and dented apples, and a box of "Wild Ones" tomatoes. I wanted a slicing tomato, but all the large tomatoes looked "Hey this is winter, you dope!", so I bought small ones that ship well.
----------------------
The stop at Lake Street Plaza was for changing shoes. I wore cleats to the back door, changed into sandals while leaning on a guardrail so I could use the footpath into Creighton's parking lot, changed back after lunch, then changed again for the trip through Warsaw. I must remember that Lake Street Plaza is a good place to stop; both the laundromat and "Everything Outdoors" have benches on the walk in front of the buildings.
My sandals with two pairs of socks were warmer than my fleece-lined shoes with one pair of socks. I didn't bother to put on the extra socks for the walk to the Crazy Egg.
Checking Weather Underground: it looks as though this evening's one-mile walk is on, and it still says low wind for Saturday and the snowstorm will hold off until after sunset.
I've been thinking that I could go to Spring Creek even though I haven't done more than twenty miles lately. I haven't come home from a twenty-mile ride tired, and I managed the Mentone tour in August without too much damage. I could stop in Pierceton for a cup of soup at the Odd Fellow cafe, buy a newspaper and a quarter pizza at the gas station in Larwill, walk around for a while at Spring Creek, stop at the gazebo to eat the other slice of pizza, have another cup of soup in Pierceton, and there isn't much in the way of hills on the route, except for the dip between Larwill and Spring Creek.
Then I started doing the math. I ride at five miles per hour, sunset is at a quarter after five, I wake up at nine — starting at eleven and not stopping anywhere would get me home just at curfew. No way I can get a liesurely thirty-mile tour in before the day gets a little longer.
On the other hand, the temperature will be firmly below freezing. I could go to Duck Down and Above and buy stuffed chicken breasts.
I really miss the seconds and over-runs they used to sell at the main office.
The one-mile walk was on, and I climbed both sets of stairs twice. Then tonight I walked to Heritage Room/Rhodheaver Auditorim and back, about eight tenths of a mile. No steps anywhere, but the sidewalk slopes a little.
The weather prediction still holds for tomorrow, and snow will start that night, but I have decided that I don't want to get up early enough to take a ride before sunset. I'll settle for going to Owen's for milk and eggs.
I got the milk and eggs at Aldi, and that night wrote a loquacious ride report for rec.bicycles.misc, which I'll paste in below. I tend to do a brain dump when groggy, and this post needs organizing and condensation that it isn't going to get.
Climbed the steps after the service yesterday, but forgot to do it again after wiping the gaskets of the fridges. But I did go up and down the upper half-flight a few extra times, and did some of the downs somewhat slowly.
(I slept late, and couldn't do any of that before the service.)
Date: Sat, 10 Dec 2016 22:17:16 -0400
One of the farmers' markets has closed for the winter and the other has gone to one day a month, but I still think of Saturday as the day to take a ride.
It may be the last roads-clean day for a while, and I was thinking of finally making the Spring Creek Market tour; I figured I could handle a thirty-mile ride if I stopped in Pierceton for a cup of soup, stopped again at the gas station in Larwill to buy a quarter of a pizza and a newspaper, walked around in Spring Creek for a while, stopped at the gazebo in Larwill to eat the other slice of pizza, and had another cup of soup in Pierceton.
Then I did the math. Curfew is five P.M. I rarely wake up before nine. [This morning, I rolled out at 11:40.]
At five miles per hour, it would take me six hours to ride thirty miles. Five rest stops could hardly add up to less than an hour. It takes me a full hour to dress and eat breakfast when I'm *not* wearing at least three layers of everything.
I began a ride at three in the morning once, but I can't stir up that kind of enthusiasm for this one. Besides, I hurt myself, didn't finish, and had to stop and rest after every mile for a month. Might have realized that I was coming down with one of those ailments that don't exist because only women get them if I hadn't explained every symptom as the result of getting up at three.
The predicted high is well below freezing — I could go to Leesburg and buy stuffed chicken breasts. I know I can do that with only one rest stop. But I don't feel like doing stuff on Friday so that I can roll out on time on Saturday. We need milk and eggs, I'll settle for the 1.6 miles to the Kroger store. But by bedtime, I'd decided to do the Sprawlmart tour of about five miles.
I usually pulled off the road and stopped when I needed to blow my nose. This wasn't because of last Saturday's incident, but because I couldn't find my handkerchief with mittens on. (On coming into the garage, I used my last piece of nose paper.)
Time to review "How to keep your bottle from freezing". I've been out of practice ever since we moved from a very high-priority state road to a low-priority residential street. When it's very cold, it's seldom safe to go out.
If you can refill, you keep the second bottle from freezing by leaving it home. Otherwise, refill beverage should start hot and be wrapped well in a pannier. Boiling-hot beverage in an exposed bottle is a bad idea; the valve freezes before the beverage cools enough to drink.
Blowing into the bottle instead of sucking on it isn't as easy as I remember it. Biting the ice off the outside of the valve, then forcing it closed and pulling it open made it work again, and I didn't have any more trouble with it. The weather wasn't *very* cold; the ice in my spare bottle was still small, loose shards when I poured most of its contents into the other bottle at Aldi. Didn't think to look at it when I got home.
I used the breadbag trick with newspaper sleeves. I was taken aback when I couldn't get the bags over my sandals, then remembered that with sandals, you put the bags on first, then the sandals. Which meant that I could walk around freely without needing new bags. (I'd put rather a lot of newspaper sleeves into my panniers for renewal along the way.) Since the bags wouldn't fit over my sweat pants, but rumpled up around the ankles just above where the sandals held them in place, I didn't really need my ankle warmers to hold them. I was glad I wore them anyway.
There's an inch or so more plastic coming out the toes of my sandals than there was when I left.
At that point, I took sandals and newspaper sleeves off and found that my socks are wet, and now my feet are cold. Though I felt a bit cool about the knees early in the ride, one thin pair of wool socks, one thick pair of wool socks, and a pair of newspaper sleeves kept my feet plenty warm at all times, even though I probably had wet socks all that time, because I didn't get out of the house for quite a while after I put on my ankle warmers.
Now I'm going to take the rest of this stuff off and take a nap. (Had the hand covers, head covers, and my wool-jacketing jersey off before I got all the groceries put away, but pretty much stalled there. No wonder my feet are sweaty.)
⁂
When I packed my groceries, the canned goods went into the insulated pannier and the frozen food into the open one!
No notes in my memo book except that color printing is $0.59/sheet. And a few arrival/departure times.
There's an untranscribed note on last week's page that I saw a heron while crossing the bridge on Arthur street.
I took a one-mile walk on each of Saturday and Sunday, and did some stair climbing. I've been barefoot and in the kitchen ever since, but hope to take another one-mile walk tomorrow.
Which I did. I think I climbed both sets of steps.
If I put a headline on today, it would be "Starting over from scratch." The day when the roads are clear and it isn't raining finally arrived, and I a whole bunch of didn't want to go.
When finally dressed, I went to the emergency room by way of Lincoln Street, then went to Owen's by way of Harrison. Probably in the near neighborhood of five miles.
The emergency room was well stocked with magazines, so it's just as well that all I had was two Analogs, a QST, and a leaflet.
I'd better do a dump tour on Friday, as the prediction has too high a chance of rain until the following Thursday.
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