Saturday March 25, Day Zero
The latest idea was to drive 350 miles to Vincennes, IN and start the trip from there. Back in 1811 Tecumseh left from West Lafayette, but for us it was still a little cool that far north for camping. A lot of campgrounds weren't even open yet. The sooner we got south the better.
I can do the segment from home to Vincennes later this summer, I hope. 350 miles is about right for a week any more. (I used to think 500 miles was about right for a week, but am degenerating lately.)
Also, I had learned more about where Tecumseh had supposedly gone in Mississippi before heading west to Tuckabatchee, and if I tried to add those sites to the trip, I'd have more than enough to do during my allotted time away from work even if I started from Vincennes.
It was late morning by the time we got packed and on the road. And then I was ready for a nap, having been up late as usual, taking care of last-minute details at work. About 50 miles from home I woke up. M said she had been trying to wake me up the last 20 miles to ask if I had remembered my shoes. I instantly knew I hadn't. There was no other choice but to drive back home to get them.
This is the problem with not starting a bike ride from our front door, and it isn't the first time something like this has happened.
Now it was late enough that there was no hope of stopping at Hodson's Bay in West Lafayette to get a copy of Charlie Meyer's book about backroads of Indiana. I've been promising him for years that I'd get a copy, and still haven't done so.
Once back home we quick went online to make some motel reservations, and then took off, this time taking the interstate route via Fort Wayne and Indianapolis. We often look for excuses to avoid interstates, but now there was going to be some night driving, so we may as well make the best possible time.
The motel turned out to be kind of a dump. Also, I've learned a little more about how to interpret ambiguous wording about internet access. (Translation: "No, we don't have internet access." Unspoken words: If you want internet access, you might need to find a place to stay that's a little above the bottom of the barrel.) But we didn't mind too much, and the weather forecast sounded good for the bike ride to begin the next day.
I can do the segment from home to Vincennes later this summer, I hope. 350 miles is about right for a week any more. (I used to think 500 miles was about right for a week, but am degenerating lately.)
Also, I had learned more about where Tecumseh had supposedly gone in Mississippi before heading west to Tuckabatchee, and if I tried to add those sites to the trip, I'd have more than enough to do during my allotted time away from work even if I started from Vincennes.
It was late morning by the time we got packed and on the road. And then I was ready for a nap, having been up late as usual, taking care of last-minute details at work. About 50 miles from home I woke up. M said she had been trying to wake me up the last 20 miles to ask if I had remembered my shoes. I instantly knew I hadn't. There was no other choice but to drive back home to get them.
This is the problem with not starting a bike ride from our front door, and it isn't the first time something like this has happened.
Now it was late enough that there was no hope of stopping at Hodson's Bay in West Lafayette to get a copy of Charlie Meyer's book about backroads of Indiana. I've been promising him for years that I'd get a copy, and still haven't done so.
Once back home we quick went online to make some motel reservations, and then took off, this time taking the interstate route via Fort Wayne and Indianapolis. We often look for excuses to avoid interstates, but now there was going to be some night driving, so we may as well make the best possible time.
The motel turned out to be kind of a dump. Also, I've learned a little more about how to interpret ambiguous wording about internet access. (Translation: "No, we don't have internet access." Unspoken words: If you want internet access, you might need to find a place to stay that's a little above the bottom of the barrel.) But we didn't mind too much, and the weather forecast sounded good for the bike ride to begin the next day.