Into the Fields

Just as we were drifting off to sleep in our tent at Perry Park I heard someone shout "Call 911! Call 911!" I heard a few other voices but no further commotion and decided that it might be a joke and went to bed. When Rach and I woke up the next morning we saw Charlotte, the caretaker for the park, campground, and boat ramp. Apparently she had taken a nasty spill but she always wears a fanny pack (to the embarassment of her daughter) and it had spared her any serious injury. We said our goodbyes and started the day's miles.

We were headed toward Cleveland, and like most other big cities, there are no campgrounds near the core of the city. Rach contacted a Warmshowers host but it was going to be quite a long ride. Sheryl and her family were going to be away but she said we could camp in the yard and use the bathroom at the marina very nearby. Sounds great. Then another text from Sheryl: the marina man does not want to share the bathroom. They have bushes at the house. Hmmm... We took our first break 17 miles in and sat at a park enjoying the sight of Lake Erie. Mostly residential riding through this stretch, the grand homes on the lakefront side and the modest houses on the other side of the road.

At around mile 30 it was time for lunch. We started looking for some food in the village of Bratenahl. Mansions. Mansions. More red brick mansions. The mansions are all fine and well but we wanted lunch! At mile 38 we found a marina within sight of the city skyline. There were lots of sailboats out on the lake. I had no idea Cleveland had an active sailing scene. They had a restaurant and it was incredible. So many cold drinks. The decadence of ice. Refills. More refills. So much frosty liquid. We were tempted by beer but we both knew we'd fall asleep and never get anywhere if we went that route. We were flying through this stretch of the day. The road was flat and we had strength earned in the mountains.

Past mile 60 I began to feel decidedly lukewarm about the idea of riding so far to do my business in Sheryl's bushes. 80 miles was our first estimate for the day but a closer look at the map showed 85. 85 came and went and we still weren't there. Sun-baked despair clouded my mind. There was a campground near Sheryl's house. We had seen it on the map but discarded the idea when we checked their website and saw 55 dollars for camping. I proposed that we turn up, try to get a better rate, and see how it went. We found the Firefly Resort at mile 88, now our longest day of the trip. The bartender at the place's tavern said 20 bucks. Success! We celebrated by swimming in Lake Erie and having a pasta dinner.

Our tent was very near the Tiki Tavern. And the Tavern had some revelers. On the outdoor patio. Who seemed to get louder the more drinks they had. There were also railroad tracks nearby. And night trains. Suffice it to say, I did not sleep too well.

The next morning I was feeling loopy. We rode probably only 5 or so miles before I needed a break at the side of the road. Progress was SLOW. By this point, we had departed our lake-side riding and were in the cornfields. This is what Rach thought all of Ohio would be like. At a gas station we met a man named "Bear" from Oklahoma who was working on a pipeline down the road. He said they paid him well and he had a brand new house he bought two years ago but he'd only slept in it three nights so far - that he was always on the road. He called us "hellraisers" and we shook hands and went our separate ways.

Now we were in the stretch of long farm roads. When you look at the map this region is laid out on enormous grids. As a bicyclist all you can see is corn on either side of a road that runs straight as an arrow for miles ahead of you. Stir in some headwind and you have a recipe for some slow going. It rained briefly in the afternoon but the downpour actually felt quite refreshing. We finally turned up in Gibsonburg at the end of the day to camp in the city campground. There was nobody here so it was quiet... until this morning when the construction workers who are building new restrooms fired up their generator, trucks, and bulldozers.

Perry to the Firefly Resort: 88 miles
Firefly to Gibsonburg (We have been calling this town Gardenburger): 53 miles

From Perry Park at Lake Erie

Cleveland's Airport

They had Johnny Cash's tour bus out front

This was fun - I totally forgot to tell the story about a religious
procession with fireworks in this neighborhood. So much to say!

Cleveland has a sandy beach

Stump flowers

At the Firefly Resort