Week
Two:
July 8
to July 14, 2004
Today I had to reach Chesterton, Indiana, in
time for a 4 p.m. massage appointment. The distance wasn’t bad – only a little
over 200 miles, and the roads looked like they ought to be straightforward, on
the map at least. Plus I would gain an hour, since my destination is on Central
Time. So I would use a good bit of the morning trying to complete the weekly
update for the first week, plus a page of digital photos. With luck I could
accomplish this by 10 or 11, get everything uploaded, and then take off.
Started off with a quick and simple sampling
of their so-called continental breakfast, took some coffee back to my room, and
parked in front of my laptop for a couple of hours while plugging away at finishing
the week’s narrative and arranging the digital photos I had selected to go with
it. And whaddya know, but I managed to pull it off. While everything was being
uploaded to the web site (the digital images take awhile), I got my final
packing done, dressed for the ride, and then hit the road.
As expected, the ride was smooth – minimal
traffic, no roadwork projects to speak of, and the weather was good. In fact,
it was one of the best riding days you could hope for. Hardly a cloud in the
sky, temperature in the 70s, and acre after acre of rich farmland. Not the
spectacular scenery of the west, for sure, but this is bedrock America. One of
my photos, of a general store in New Hampshire, Ohio, captured it well, and is
a reminder of why it pays to stay off the interstates once in awhile. The only
drawback to the ride were the occasional strong headwinds and crosswinds – the
latter reminding me of similar experiences when crossing Kansas four years ago,
although today’s were nowhere near the intensity of the ones at that time.
Pulled into today’s lodging, Indian Oak Resort
and Spa in Chesterton, Indiana, a little after 3, got checked in and more or
less settled, and then it was time for my day’s ashiatsu treatment, this time
by Denise Francis. She did an admirable job, and it was good medicine for my
body. As was the case during my 48 state tour, my daily massage is just the
right tonic to keep my body in good riding shape.
Dinner would be at the hotel’s restaurant.
Although there was a small shopping center within walking distance, it made
more sense to take advantage of the hotel’s facility. The food was okay,
service less so. But at least it was convenient, and it’s only for one night.
Up at my usual 6 a.m. reveille, had a quick
(and very basic) continental breakfast in the hotel’s restaurant, and got the
bike packed and ready to roll.
Left the hotel around 8, gassed up, and hit
the interstates to get by Chicago and head on to Davenport, Iowa, today’s
destination. My therapist yesterday was bemoaning the awful traffic around
Chicago, but I found it to be a relative breeze. I had no idea what to expect
traffic-wise, but it wasn’t even moderately heavy. Before long I had passed the
Chicago sprawl and was on the open road to what they call the Quad Cities
(Davenport and Bettendorf, Iowa, and Moline and Rock Island, Illinois), named
in that fashion because they all more or less join each other, separated only
by the Mississippi River.
Weatherwise, yesterday’s blue skies, had given
way to overcast, leaden skies. Dry weather seemed to be the order of the day,
or so I thought until I was about 40 miles east of my destination. That’s when
the skies ahead became fiercely black. Memories of my ride across southern
Alabama four years ago came to mind, when I wondered if I’d be caught in a
tornado. I stopped at a Mobil station to fill up, and while I was there someone
told me he hoped I didn’t have far to go. I said only to Davenport, and he said
that shouldn’t be too bad. I called my hotel on my cell phone (sure glad I got
a nationwide plan before leaving Maine), and asked the desk clerk about the
weather. He said it had been raining hard about 20 minutes before but those
storms had passed by. So I decided to push on, and except for a few minutes of
rain in the early going, the rest of the ride was fine.
Got to my hotel a little after noon, my room
was ready about 30 minutes later, and I was unpacked and settled in no time.
Had to backtrack a few miles for my 2 p.m. massage in Moline, but that was no
hardship. Pamela Fisher was today’s therapist and did a very nice job. She is
qualified in ashiatsu, but hasn’t had a chance to get her bars installed (these
parallel wooden bars, about the diameter of a rowboat oar, are mounted from the
ceiling above the massage table and are used by the therapists to hold onto for
balancing and adjusting the amount of pressure used on their clients). So the
massage was pretty much a straight relaxation Swedish variety, but very nicely
done. I had already found out that Pam is a motorcyclist (Harley variety) as
well, and uses her free time on weekends to enjoy that passion.
Then it was back to the Fairfield Inn, today’s
hotel of choice, to make a few phone calls, catch a little news on the local
network affiliates (including the news that there had been several tornado
warnings not far from where I was riding today), and then head to the closest
restaurant (walking distance) for an early dinner. Tomorrow will be my first
day off since leaving Plymouth, so I’ll have to check out the list of
activities in the Davenport/Moline area. Other than my 1 p.m. massage with one
of the therapists who works at Pam’s studio, my day is free. It will be nice
not to have to spend several hours sitting in the saddle for a change.
Saturday, July 10th—
Today was my day off from riding, so I had
time to catch up on phone calls and emails that I’d been waiting to deal with.
The morning skies were dense and misty, but rain didn’t seem to be in the
offing. Finished up my housekeeping chores and made my last return trip to
Moline, across the Mississippi from Davenport, for today’s massage. The
therapist was Heather Mohr, who works with Pam Fisher, owner of Two Rivers
Massage. Heather did a fine job, even if it didn’t include ashiatsu.
Then I made a stop at the Isle of Capri
riverboat casino. Didn’t go inside the boat, since no photography allowed, and
I’m not a gambler. Apparently riverboat gambling is allowed on the boats in
three of the four cities – Rock Island, in Illinois, and Bettendorf and Davenport
on the Iowa side of the river.
Then it was off to the local cinema complex to
watch “Fahrenheit 9/11”. I didn’t know how I’d react, and to be honest I really
wasn’t blown away one way or another. Probably all the media attention had
something to do with it. I frankly didn’t think the film was that well made,
but maybe I’m in a small minority on that issue. I doubt it will affect who I
vote for, not that I’ve even got that figured out yet.
When I left the theater, about 7:30 p.m., I
discovered that someone had taken my riding gloves. When I park my bike I
generally leave my helmet, with gloves inside, hanging over the right
passenger’s foot peg. Why someone would go to the trouble of removing the
helmet, taking an obviously well used pair of gloves, and then replacing the
helmet beats me. It’s the first incident of this sort I’ve encountered in all
my touring experience, but at least they left the helmet. It will mean a day or
so of riding without gloves (tomorrow is Sunday, so the earliest I can look for
replacements will be Monday in Omaha), but that’s not too bad in the scale of
things. And if that’s the worst mishap I encounter during the trip, I’ll
consider myself lucky.
Dinner was at a family-style restaurant up the
street – same place I went last night. I had planned to try Red Lobster
tonight, but the wait was 40 minutes so I passed. Now I’m about to put this
computer away for tomorrow’s trip. My destination is Council Bluffs, Iowa,
clear across the state, so I plan to get an early start.
Sunday, July 11th—
Up at 5:30, dressed, packed and had a quick
breakfast before getting on the road around 7:15. Today would be over 300
miles, from the Illinois to the Nebraska border. Early morning haze and fog
gave way to some encouraging signs of sun and I thought it would be a fine day
for riding. But that would not be the case. Turned out I was dodging
thunderstorms and lightning strikes a good bit of the way. I managed to find a
conveniently located McDonalds just as one treacherous looking dark sky was
about to open up. It lasted about 30 minutes, but I was glad to be under
shelter.
Made it to my lodging spot for the night,
Settle Inn, around 12:30, and was in my room by 1. Got some trip details
organized, and also located a motorcycle dealer in Omaha (across the Missouri
River from Council Bluffs) who was open Sundays. Their yellow pages ad claimed
they had the largest motorcycle and accessories showroom in the Midwest, so
that sounded encouraging. Spoke with the parts manager about my glove predicament.
He checked his inventory, said there were several possibilities in stock. I
told him I’d be in tomorrow morning. Very helpful guy.
My therapist today, Stephanie Daugherty, is
ashiatsu certified but doesn’t have a lot of chance to practice it here. Guess
her clients simply prefer the more conventional modalities they’re accustomed
to. But she did a first rate job, including some really interesting spiritual
elements. In addition to the wellness center where she and her therapist team
work on clients, she and her husband operate a massage school. She expressed an
interest in Hawaii and I plan to put her in touch with the director of the
school in Kailua, Oahu, I’m so fond of.
Back to the hotel after the massage, caught up
on administrative trivia, and headed over to a nearby Red Lobster for dinner.
Hadn’t been to one in years, but enjoyed it thoroughly. Wish there were one
close to us in Maine.
Then it was time to call it a day. Tomorrow
would be another long one, starting with an early visit to my newly-discovered
motorcycle dealer, where I’d hopefully fix my gloveless status, followed by a
10 a.m. massage (this unusual time was prompted by the absence of an ashiatsu
therapist in North Platte, tomorrow’s destination), and then finally hitting
the road for a nearly 300 mile drive to North Platte.
Monday, July 12th—
Usual 6 a.m. reveille, followed by a minimal
continental breakfast. Left the hotel at 8:15 for the motorcycle dealership in
Omaha. Plenty of extra time, but you could never tell what sort of delays you’d
encounter in rush hour traffic in an unfamiliar city. And Omaha is a city of
close to half a million people, so it’s obviously got some traffic congestion
potential. Fortunately that proved not to be the case today. Got to the
dealership with 20 minutes to spare before their 9 a.m. opening. The parts
manager spotted me, and led me inside without waiting for the official opening.
In no time at all, I had selected not just one, but two pairs of gloves. I
really appreciated the parts guy’s solicitous help – went out of his way to
take care of me.
Then it was a short drive to another Omaha
neighborhood for my 10:00 a.m. appointment with today’s therapist, Jennifer
Moseley. She owns and operates her own day spa, and has a dozen therapists
working with her. As for her ashiatsu session, it was great. And she proved
more than willing to add some twists to the standard ashiatsu package. I always
appreciate the therapists who have enough confidence in their abilities and
knowledge that they will be creative and innovative in applying techniques that
weren’t necessarily part of the core curriculum taught to the beginning
ashiatsu students.
After dealing with the web site photo op, took
off for North Platte. Today’s ride was long, boring and hot. A young lad at one
of the gas station convenience stores I stopped at along the route asked if I
didn’t get very hot with my heavy riding gear on. I told him it looked worse
than it felt, and that the only time it really became uncomfortable was if I
had to sit in traffic for a long period of time.
As I passed mile after endless mile, I noticed
a few things. One, Nebraska really has a lot of corn. And I also found myself
looking for answers to some of the cosmic questions that I find myself asking
from time to time. For example, why does a herd of cattle, say 100 of the
critters, all face the same direction? Who gives the order? Who says, okay
guys, this is the direction we’re going to face today, got it? It’s the kind of
thing I wonder about when watching a flock of birds heading South or wherever
they might be going. Who picks the one that heads the group? How do they
decide? Do they switch leaders each time they take a break? What if the leader
wants to make a course change? How does the command get communicated? Anyway,
just some of the things I wonder about now and then. You can see that riding
through the cornfields of Nebraska has it’s own therapeutic value – Iraq and
the like seem so far away.
Finally rolled into North Platte, and the
Comfort Inn, a little after 5:30, got settled in my room, made some phone
calls, got tomorrow’s route and directions squared away, and walked to a nearby
Chinese restaurant for a very nice dinner. I can also tell you the Heineken
tasted awfully good this evening. Temperature at the time of the 6 p.m. news
was 94˚. But at least while moving on the interstate at a good clip (the
speed limit in Nebraska on the interstates is 75), it really wasn’t too taxing,
as long as I stopped for my regular breaks every hour or so.
Tuesday, July 13th—
Today would take me to Boulder, Colorado, and
I’d gain an hour in the process, crossing from the Central to Mountain time
zone about 20 miles after leaving North Platte. It was another great day for
riding, even though it would be on the hot side and unfortunately lacking in
much scenic variety. But one advantage of riding the interstates is you can
maintain a good speed and that helps keep you relatively comfortable, even when
temperatures reach the high 90s, as they did yesterday and will again today.
Oh, and by the way, I have a news update on
the directional habits of cows. Turns out it’s got nothing to do with what the
leader does (in fact I don’t think herds of cattle have leaders, they’re all
followers). Rather, it has everything to do with where the sun is. So in the
morning, generally, the cows face east, in the afternoon they face west. And I
suppose that’s why they lie down when it’s about to rain, cause they can’t
figure out what else to do. It could also mean the cows are onto something, sort
of like light therapy which some massage therapists like to practice. Could be
that cows have a spiritual side to them we’ve never appreciated.
But enough of that. Soon after crossing into
Colorado on I-76, I stopped briefly at a state welcome center, picked up a
couple of maps, and relaxed briefly. A few hours and a couple of rest and
refueling stops later, I pulled into Boulder. I’ve been here before, but it was
a long time ago. Unfortunately I won’t have much time for sightseeing, but
that’s okay. Other priorities need attention.
Today’s therapist, Shari MacCallum, is not
only qualified in ashiatsu, but is an advanced rolfer, so she combined both
modalities in today’s session. Nice! And even nicer is that she’ll also be
treating me this coming Saturday and Sunday, upon my return from western
Colorado. We did the web site photo op following our session, but I promised
her we could do a reshoot on Saturday or Sunday if she’s not happy with the
results of today’s effort.
The Days Inn where I booked tonight’s stay
(and my return visit on Saturday as well) is fine, and reasonable. No close by
restaurants to walk to, so I went across the street to the Subway, got one of
their Italian sandwiches, and a beer to wash it down with. Not a bad combo at
all.
Caught up with some email and phone calls, and
am about to call it a night and get ready for tomorrow’s trip.
Wednesday, July 14th—
Up at the usual time, had a light continental
breakfast, and hit the road about 8. Today’s journey will take me to Steamboat Springs,
about 180 miles west/northwest of Boulder. My therapist yesterday thought it
would take about 3 hours, but I thought that a bit optimistic. I’m counting on
5 hours including time for rest stops, the slower travel when riding through
the twists and turns as you scale the Rockies and cross the Continental Divide,
and the inevitable road work delays this time of year.
Started the trip by taking a scenic byway from
Boulder to I-70, and then exited onto US40 for the remainder of the way. There
was road construction at the Berthoud Pass location (elevation over 11,000
feet), and that ate up some time. A couple of refueling stops and morning snack
breaks used up some more and I rolled into Steamboat about 1 p.m.
Got into my room about 30 minutes later, unpacked,
called my Steamboat Springs therapists to let them know I was in town, and soon
was on the table for my 3 p.m. session with Amy Cummins. And what a treat it
was. Amy would rate high marks in anyone’s book – great technique, great style,
and just an all around nice gal. An elegant performance on all counts.
Then back to the hotel for some phone calls,
catch the local and national news, and head next door for dinner. I wouldn’t
give it much of a rating, but it will be fine for a couple of nights, which I
will have since I’m taking tomorrow off. No more riding except for local stuff
till Friday.
Trip Statistics at end of Week Two
Miles
ridden this week: 1,556
Miles
ridden this trip: 2,828
States
visited: 12