Sensing the Lake

I've re-entered the US on day 11. We crossed the border in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario into the Upper Peninsula in Michigan. I had a 56 mile ride into Paradise, MI. The first 10-15 miles were fine. I enjoyed a very flat route today through Brimley and into Bay Mills. This area is largely Native country - lots of federal government buildings and services for the populations in these small towns. I was upset by the poverty in the towns and knowing the history of the way the US government has treated Native Americans and then just on the outskirts of town, riding past all the lakefront homes/cottages/cabins owned my wealthy and privileged enough people to have them in the first place. Each home has either a creative name or the family name on a big carved or painted wooden sign near the street - "Tumble On Inn," "The Whitelaw Family Lakehouse, est. 1973," "The Johnson's Best View Cabin."All the owners were named Bob and Judy, Cindy and Dave, Ed and Carol - good old white American names belonging to heterosexual married couples no doubt. Privilege, privilege, privilege! The stark contrasts were unfair and I wondered if the owners of these beautiful lake shore homes knew and understood what they had compared to their neighbors just a few yards down.

While I enjoyed much flatter terrain today, it did not work for my feet. All that time in the saddle blocks the blood flow and standing up and getting out of the saddle didn't make a whole lot of sense on flat ground. My bike would coast to a standstill in seconds. Needless to say, the pain today was concentrated in my feet. The other horrendous pain that has consumed too much of my experiences on this trip so far has finally subsided quite a bit. I am so incredibly thankful! I know the foot issue is a combination of spending too much time seated and having shoes that aren't the best for riding like this. They aren't terrible, but what I really needed was bike shoes that are designed for touring with a very firm sole and a wide fit. I could have spent the money before the trip to get a pair. In hindsight I should have, but I was worried about not having enough time to break them in and get used to them before I left, thus, potentially creating a bigger issue for my feet. I make it work though. I just need to spend more time out of the saddle whether it's standing up and pedaling on the flats or just getting off my bike altogether and walking around for a few minutes.

I followed the Curley Lewis Highway on my way to Paradise today. Through Brimley and Bay Mills it was an interesting ride, however, after that, for almost the rest of the way until it intersects with highway 123, it was flat and boring. I couldn't see the lake, just trees to both sides of me and long stretches of narrow flat road. While I should have been grateful for the easy pedal today, with the unchanging scenery, I grew impatient and had a hard time motivating myself to go faster so I could get through it more quickly. As I grew more bored, I got more impatient until I was just down right crabby. I took a minute and tried to concentrate on just calming down and enjoying the trees, the tall grasses, and the concrete. I thought about how, in our lives, most of the world is trained to go from point A to point B as quickly as possible whether it be in traveling from destination to destination, in completing tasks, in thinking thoughts - we want to get through whatever it is we're doing fast. Time, especially in Western culture, is linear. It moves in a line from start to finish and everything that we do, think, say, etc., moves along that line - always forward. I knew this was my attitude on my ride today - just hurry up and get done and when I can't go faster, get crabby about it.

I tried to just tune into what was going on - the way the breeze felt, especially when sudden brief bursts of colder air washed in from the lake just on the other side of the trees, cooling my body as it evaporated the perspiration. I listened for how the wind rushed by my ears. I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin. I listened to the way the leaves rustled and I watched the tall grasses sway. I followed the grasshoppers as they took flight before me as if leading the way for a short distance. I heard and felt the hum of my tires on the pavement, as well as the soft clinking of my gear in my bike bags as my bike dipped over small cracks spreading across the pavement. I had seen one snake already today - the first one of this ride. It was dead, but grossed me out nonetheless. My legs grew wobbly, my arms lost their strength and I about fell off my bike. I broke into a cold sweat as my heart raced and a wave of nausea came over me. Yep, I'm scared of them! For the rest of my ride I kept an eye out, growing panicky at every twig in the road thinking it was a snake. You'd think that would have provided enough adrenaline to get me moving through 40-some miles of very long, very flat, and very boring road. No such luck.

My ability to tune out of my need to just get done for the day and tune into paying attention to each moment during my ride came in sporadic episodes. Usually the pain in my feet or my neck from not cinching up the CamelBak would yank me back into wanting to just be done riding for the day. I reminded myself again of how accustomed we are to hurrying through life. I will be the first to admit I am not a patient person. I think today was a lesson that is just beginning to be learned. Tonight, we ate dinner at Camp 33 - a restaurant and pub near the upper Tahquamenon Falls (about 14 miles up the road from our hotel) and named because it was the 33rd logging camp the Barrett Logging Company constructed (I'm assuming the Barrett Logging Company constructed many of the camps in the area back in the day). The 14 mile drive to Camp 33 gave me a preview of what about the first quarter of my ride tomorrow will be like - long, flat, trees, concrete, no lake. I thought about downloading a book on tape or something and putting it on my ipod tonight so I could listen to it tomorrow, but I forgot the right cable to do that. I only brought my charger. I think it's a sign for me to once again quit thinking about how many more miles it is and just enjoy the ride for what it is, where it is, and what it means to me as a chapter in this entire journey.

I'm just over halfway done at day 11. With 662 miles completed and being back in the US, just 9 more days stand between me and and the end to one epic journey of a lifetime doing what I love most around a lake that has much significance and meaning to me. All in all I couldn't imagine experiencing the entire shore of Lake Superior in any other way. I've connected with the lake, the land, and myself in so many ways already. We'll see what the next 9 days have to offer!