As a solo bicycle rider, I take the day as it comes. Pedaling out of Ludington, MI, after spending the night there was like any other day; surprises awaited discovering.
The ride to the hotel the night before was uneventful, but in the dark after disembarking from the S. S. Badger ferry ride across Lake Michigan. I have plenty of rear lights for the bike, but the headlamp is a smaller, less powerful version that I use when traveling. I don’t plan on doing much riding at night when away from home. In Sarasota, I have a light that would blind.
The names of places can be puzzling at times. I rode into Free Soil, Michigan. I can’t begin to imagine how that came to be. I suppose I could research it, but, like in college, I’ll leave that to the reader. The skies kept threatening to drown me, but so far, so good. I gambled that a quick lunch would allow me time to get to somewhere safe for the night. The forecast was for severe thunderstorms, but I was hungry.
I stopped at the Heidi Hof House and had a nice meal. As usual, a customer noticed the bicycle and was appalled that someone could actually ride that far, especially a senior citizen. We had a nice chat about it. He offered to buy me a beer, but I don’t like to drink alcohol while riding. Lunch went well and still no storm.
This area of Michigan, at least according to my Adventure Cycle Association maps, is devoid of anything looking like a hotel. I was certain that I would be camping tonight. As I came into the outskirts of Luther, MI, I rode down a side road to check on the Carrieville State Forest Campground. It was late afternoon, and other than a bunch of noisy dirt bikes riding the trails, the place was pretty empty. I attempted to sign up for site #4, but, since didn’t have the correct change for the drop box, I planned to ride into town, have an early evening meal, and get some change.
Luther was about three miles from the camp. I rode into town and looked to see what was open (This was Sunday of Labor Day weekend, most places would be closed). On the left side of the main drag there appeared to be two places, I think one was Loggers Landing, and the other was North Bar. The North Bar had a crowd gathered at the front door so I wasn’t hopeful about being able to get in if there was a long line.
I walked the bike up to the bar on the sidewalk and as I approached the crowd, I was greeted with by some very happy sounding people, and loud music coming from the bar. My mind raced, did I want to try and wait out the crowd or try to get something to eat?
I tied the bike to a pole and at once several folks gathered around with a bunch of questions. I answered what I could and then asked about how long the wait was to get in. They said there was no wait (they were mostly outside to have a smoke) and told me to head on in. Just then, a woman came out and peppered me with questions and explained that the North Bar was having their annual Customer Appreciation Day. The woman, Jen, was managing the festivities. The fact that I wasn’t a regular customer and it was my first time there didn’t matter in the least. I was treated as a long-lost friend and dragged in before I could protest.
In just a few sentences Jen managed to squeeze out my life’s history. She went up to the microphone and said something about having a minor celebrity in their midst, a fellow riding a bicycle coast-to-coast and then pointed at me. There was a big round of applause…I really had to like this crowd.
They were bringing just about everyone in the place to the stage area to sing – most of them solo. Surprisingly, many of them were really good singers. Most of the songs were country western and a few, quite humorous. There was free food and I sat there and ate to my fill. What a crowd.
I was terrified that they would ask me to sing, I don’t know a single word of any songs, it would have been a disaster. I wrote down the name of my book, Three Hundred Zeroes, on the back of my business card and caught Jen’s attention and went outside to explain to her that I’d like to give a copy to anyone that helps me out, and I had just had a free meal. I told her about the book and how it was dedicated to my brother Tom that was killed in action in Vietnam. The next thing I know, she drags me inside and hands me the microphone! I had warned her that I didn’t want to be a “downer” on such a lively party by telling my abbreviated story. She assured me I wouldn’t be a “downer” and that everyone there would be interested. She asked if I was doing the ride as a fundraiser for a cause and I replied, “no, just for my bucket list.”
It didn’t matter, she seemed to think that it was a fundraiser. Someone had just handed me $20, and I didn’t know what to say. I took the microphone and explained how my brother, Tom and I were going to hike the Appalachian Trail together when we finished our military duty, but it didn’t happen because he was killed in 1968. Further, I explained that I hiked the trail with his Purple Heart Medal and in spite of having to get off for three hundred days for a six-artery heart bypass surgery, I did go on to finish the whole 2200 (3540 km). Now I was doing this bike ride. I told them I’m not doing a fundraiser, but somebody had given me a twenty, and I would put it to good use for a veteran in my town.
Then to liven things up I told them that I had been riding across Wisconsin for over a week (lots of state rivalry in the midwest) and that in that entire time I had never seen anything like this. That brought a good laugh and applause. I didn’t want to drag it on, so thanked them and handed the microphone back. What a great crowd. Following that, a few more rushed up to me and handed me more cash, in all, $102.00. I promised to put it to good use when I get back to Florida, we have plenty of veterans there that can use the help.
It made me so proud to be an American, they didn’t care about where I was from, my politics, my religion, etc., all that mattered was a common bond with caring about others, in this case, veterans. Thank you, Luther, Michigan. I’ll report back after I get home.
Following all that, a woman named Cheryl approached me and offered a cabin room to stay in for the night. It was getting late and I was exhausted from a 60+ mile day. I said certainly. She had me follow her to the cabin and set me up there for the night, then she went back to the festivities.
Her two chihuahuas, Roco and Maxie (sp?) were left with this stranger. I showered and hit the hay. Maxie never did warm up to me and sulked away, but Roco was scared of the approaching thunderstorm and quickly became my buddy, he wanted protection.
I went quickly to sleep about 20:00. I was exhausted and it had been one of the finest days ever on my bike ride. Thank you, Luther, MI.
PS: The next morning, Cheryl gave me two tomatoes from her garden. These are not the run-of-the-mill tomatoes one gets in the market, these are juicy, flavorful, wholesome creations. I treasured them all day. Later, I stopped at a Subway shop and picked up a few scoops of tuna fish and feasted on two delightful tomatoes.
At one time, many years ago, I was asked by a certain someone to go pick out some wallpaper for out bathroom. I found what I thought was perfect. It had little toilets on it. That ended my interior decorating days forever. In a bathroom along the way, I saw the perfect match to my choice (see above). What do you think?
The ride out from Bloomer, WI, started out gloomy and foreboding. There was a bit of sunshine for a bit, but it vanished early on. I kept an eye off to my right, watching the forming clouds.
Coming into Cornell the first thing one sees is the 
You know you’re in hunting country when the hotel has a sportsman warning sign that says no cleaning of animals will take place in the hotel room. That they had to post a sign tells you something.
