I Tried Not To Cry. Michael Beattie
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to my suite and fall asleep in the most comfortable bed my memory can recall.
The receipt for my room was slid under the door last evening as I slept. When I look at it, it is even less money than the attendant told me last evening. It’s reaffirming that there’s still good young people in the world, and I’m meeting them each day. After repacking my gear, I make my way to the kitchen dining area where before me stands the most wonderful display of food items. I gorge myself on fresh fruits, yogurt, waffles, an omelet, juice, and coffees. I take a couple pieces of fruit for my day’s ride before leaving. Wonderful! Again, I didn’t book a room last evening before bed as I’m not sure how far I can go today, and my maps and notebook indicate a vast number of motels along the route with reasonable prices. As I step outside, I’m met with a light rain as I don my light rain jacket. I’m sad to leave this most beautiful hotel, knowing I can’t afford to attempt this again. I continue along the Schuylkill bike trail in the cold rain, which will eventually take me to the Valley Forge Trail. The first nine miles is easy flat riding along the trail with the Schuylkill River to my left, with its shore dotted with beautiful homes and manicured grounds. With an early morning temperature of forty-six degrees, it’s a pleasant ride even in the light rain, as squirrels zigzag across my path. The smell of spring fills the air—it’s so good to be alive, sore or not!
As I enter the Valley Forge National Park area, I’m met with steep short hill climbs which start my knees acting up again. I’m forced to get off the bike many times to walk the steep hills, trying to avoid doing any more damage to them. This park is a beautiful area with so much history to experience, but I have no time to stop anywhere, as my pains of moving ahead take priority. I must concentrate on my mission and keep moving forward. The next fifty miles turns into all hills, and my knees are screaming to stop. Luckily the rain has given up, but I can’t yet. This could be the end of the ride! Now my route has come to a bridge closure, as I stop to google a new route to get me back en route. I’m so discouraged and in pain, as I have to add another ten miles to my ride. I’m sure the ride today is beautiful, but I’m having a hard time remembering much of it, as my mind is constantly dealing with not only my knees, but also my so very uncomfortable butt, which I stop often to dress with ointment. I finally make it to an Amish Pennsylvania town called Reamstown, some sixty-two miles from my morning start. The Amish buggies are going faster than I am, as I struggle to reach a motel.
I’m able to find a room at the Penn Amish Motel and decide to take it as it’s inexpensive, and I need to take a day of rest for my knees. I guess after a day of rest and icing my knees I’ll better be able to determine whether I can continue or not. I’m so discouraged right now, I could cry. Mentally I’m so down, yet, I’m not a quitter! Oh, how I wish I was thirty years old and not nearly the sixty-seven that I am. I guess my body has not caught up with my mind which still thinks it can do marathons. My room is very basic with no TV, microwave oven, or refrigerator, but at least there’s an ice machine outside the hallway. I struggle to remove my clothes, and then stand in a hot shower, soaking every muscle in my body. I could just cry! I get dressed and head for the ice machine down the outside hallway. I rig an ice pack from a plastic bag and room towel to use on my knees. I’m going to go crazy for a whole day with nothing to do, but I know I must rest and ice my knees in order to possibly continue on. The nearest food is quite a way down the road, and it really hurts to walk. A small convenience store is located just across the road a bit, so after icing, I hobble across to see what they have for food items. I purchase a couple bags of nuts as well as a couple of beers that might help me a bit or at least hydrate me some. I pick up some instant-noodle-type meals which I can cook on my single burner stove in my pot back at the room. I can add the dried vegetables that I brought with me as a supplement. I can’t believe how long it’s taking me to get back to the room. Damn!
Pain has been my middle name for so many years now, and I seem to be able to continue on when many would give up. My mindset is to push the pain aside and concentrate on my mission. I’m hoping the icing and a good night’s sleep will help me. I have many prayers coming my way from friends as well as Facebook friends who have been following my adventures via my nightly posts. Many of these people I don’t even know, yet, their words of encouragement have helped to push me along. Many of these people I have met on the road along the way, as they have made friends with me on Facebook and now follow me daily online. It seems like the remarks that I receive are very positive, so even though I am usually too tired each evening to post something, I will continue to do so. I also post a few photos of my ride along with a short story. I dislike posting anything about my discomforts, because I don’t want to sound negative. This is also a great way to bring to light the story of hunger that exists for many of our veterans. After contacting my home base and completing my evening post online, I receive a phone call as I lie icing my knees. It’s from a good friend back home, Dick Staples. Dick and I have been friends for over forty years, stemming from a daily morning coffee shop ritual where a group of us enjoyed stories each morning before work. Dick always has a funny story to share, and his call is uplifting.
Last night was difficult trying to sleep as my knees were throbbing so. Thank God for ibuprofen! I feel a bit better this morning as I contemplate walking to get breakfast or staying in the room and having oatmeal which I can cook on my little stove. I decide that I’m going to be stuck in this room all day, so I will slowly walk about a quarter mile down the road to a diner I observed yesterday, in hopes of a big breakfast. The smell of horse manure fills the air in this predominantly farm country area as I gingerly make my way along the roadside in the cool, crisp air. My home for twenty-five years was next to a dairy farm in rural eastern Connecticut, so I love the smells of farm life. At the diner, I belly up to the counter, sitting on a padded stool which faces the busy workers serving and taking orders. Many farmworkers and such come and go after their fill of home-style cooking. The folks are friendly as I speak with many of them after being asked of my journey. The lettering on the back of my shirt almost always prompts a conversation. As usual, I hand out my cards to anyone I have the opportunity to talk with, never asking for a donation of any kind, as I let the cards do the asking for me. I consume a huge breakfast special which includes eggs, home fried potatoes, ham, homemade sourdough toast, juice, and coffees. I love food, and my body needs nourishment to help me heal. My knees started talking to me as I walked back to my room, indicating I need to do nothing but rest all day and continue the icing.
My entire day is consumed on my bed, as I study my map routes trying to plan a short ride for tomorrow. I’m so glad I dried fruits and vegetables prior to departing, as they provide me with some good nutrition which I need. I add the dried veggies to a Ramen soup for lunch, and again for dinner, as I don’t want to chance any damage by walking to the dinner again. Anything goes good in a Ramen soup as far as I’m concerned, as long as it fills me. My body is craving food and fluids as I drink more than needed today, hoping it will help heal whatever is causing my knees to act up. I use my phone to entertain me as I ice my knees on and off then soak them with hot towels. I book a room at the end of the day in Columbia, Pennsylvania, a short forty-two miles away, thinking if I ride easy and slow tomorrow, it will be a good trial test for the knees. I’m not sure what the problem is, but in the past while hiking, I have encountered the same issue. Usually rest and icing have helped, yet, I’m anxious to see if I can continue on like this, or will this be the end? The unknown is driving me crazy. I turn in early after making my contacts at home and online.
Feeling rested after twelve hours of sleep, I look forward to my departure as I leave a bit later in the morning due to my shorter anticipated ride today. As I mount my bike in the cold air, my knees feel so much better after the good night’s rest. But how long will it last? My butt sores wake me up fast as I hit the saddle and make my way to the same diner I visited yesterday to have another big breakfast. I wear my gloves again in the low thirty-degree start, staying covered and warm, knees supports and all. Once again, I enjoy conversations at the diner, chatting with the regulars. I always leave a card on the counter when I leave any business I visit. In the back of my mind I’m hoping a wealthy person may find it and make a big monetary donation. Well, I can dream. After departing the diner, I make my way along some most beautiful Amish country back roads as a cold wind clears my head. A CVS pharmacy is located along my route, so I stop to resupply my Icy Hot and Aspercreme ointment, as well as a good-quality lip balm. My lips are quite wind burned from the constant cold air on my face, and