I Tried Not To Cry. Michael Beattie
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a bit of extra warmth for my head, and although I may look a bit funny with it under my helmet, it works! My butt sores are so uncomfortable, as I need to stop and apply ointment occasionally. As I ride along, I can’t help but drift off thinking of my mother rubbing my bare butt whenever I was sick as a youngster, to help put me to sleep. I wish she was here to rub it now!
Although I’m uncomfortable riding today, the scenery and farm smells are incredible, taking my mind off any discomforts. I find myself dodging horse manure along the roadside from all the Amish horse-drawn buggies that pass me in both directions as I’m not pushing my pace today. Occasionally, a buggy driver will wave at me, as I wave to each one who passes me by. Not wanting to really mix with outsiders much, the Amish seem friendly toward me as they can clearly see my mission stated on my back. At one intersection, I stop to double-check my route, when a father and his young children pull alongside and ask if I’m lost. I assure them that I’m not, as they quickly gallop away down the road after saying “Have a nice day” to me, as the children shyly wave to me out the small rear window of the buggy. I think how very nice it was of them to ask. Little actions like this make me glad that I’m riding and doing what I’m doing. I feel so wonderful today! The roads are mostly filled with gently rolling hills that are not taxing my knees much. Dew is hovering over the farm fields as it slowly warms into the forties, and surely spring is trying to break through. I’m seeing buds starting to appear on bushes and trees as my route takes me further south. I wonder if I’ll see any cherry blossoms when and if I reach Washington, DC. My knees feel good today so far, and my spirits are high, with one beautiful vista after another appearing in front of my slow-moving bike. Spectacular farms with no electric lines going to them, lacking machinery as one would know on a modern-day farm, just horse-pulled plows and such. It’s a different simple, yet hard lifestyle here in Amish country, but maybe there’s something to be said for it.
I’m in deep thought as I make my way along today, solving many national issues in my mind, although I’m sure most politicians wouldn’t want to hear about anything I have to say. After all, I’m a blue-collar guy, not affiliated with any political party. I also have a way of just speaking my mind with little consideration of any political constructiveness, something most politicians don’t want to hear. So, I keep thinking of how to end veteran hunger in this country, as well as ways to house the homeless and provide the job training needed to put these citizens back in the job force. I’m hoping that at some point one of our decision makers will ask me for my input on all this, but so far, after the entire letter-writing campaign Sue and I had done, no one seems interested. So, I ride and talk to anyone who will listen.
My motel in Columbia is a very nice Comfort Inn, clean, and reasonably priced. After checking in, I strip down and head for the hot shower. It’s hard to describe how wonderful this feels on my sore back and knees! It was a cool day of riding, and although the sun occasionally peaked through the clouds, it was a kind of a bone-chilling ride. A small diner is located right next to the motel, so I head there and order a load of chicken parmesan and pasta along with bread. The food is not so good, but I eat everything as I’m hungry. I really miss cooking my own food already! My love for cooking makes it an easy task for me, being a pleasure to create and try new dishes. This also allows me to control what I put into my body. I’m not a healthy food nutcase, but I do try to control what I eat, without the added garbage that some restaurants and fast-food places serve. After my food, I’m able to do my laundry at the motel which provides machines at no cost to use. As my clothes are washing, I plot my ride for tomorrow, again thinking small to not aggravate the knees any more than possible. The forecast for tomorrow is rain with high winds, so this will also be a factor in my decision-making.
I decide, after looking at available rooms, that my ride will be to Delta, Pennsylvania, on the Maryland State line. There’s a small inn there that sounds good, according to the reviews I have read, and a distance of only thirty-five miles. If I feel no worse than today, and taking into consideration the high wind and rain forecasted, that should be plenty. My laundry is done, so that’s one more issue taken care of for a few more days. After doing my nightly post and contact to home, I head to bed. The bed is fairly comfortable, although I seem to be able to sleep on anything each night, as I’m so tired. Ten to twelve hours sleep is what I seem to need to recover from the day’s ride. Ibuprofen, ice on the knees, antibiotic ointment on the butt sores, a good massage of my hands and elbows, and off to la-la land my mind goes. Tomorrow is another adventure!
I’m up before daylight to try and beat some of the forecasted wind. A small breakfast buffet is just opening in the motel, so I consume more than a man should along with my coffee before stepping out into the rain. With my rain gear on, I head toward the bridge that will take me across the large Susquehanna River from Columbia to Marietta. The weatherman is right for a change. It’s raining hard as I hope my strobe lights will warn the cars that I’m here, as I cautiously cover the bridge’s span. It’s a cold rain of forty-five degrees as I wear my gloves again. My maps have indicated that I’ll be riding alongside the river for quite a distance, and I hope that signals a flat ride. The heavy rain for the first two hours sends a chill around my entire body as the wind increases to approximately twenty miles per hour, making headway difficult. My assumption that riding along the river would indicate a flat ride turns out to be far from the truth, as it quickly turns into steep up- and downhills along a very narrow river road with little to no shoulder. It’s a very cold nerve-racking ride as I hope I can be seen by the traffic to my rear, allowing time for them to slow a bit. The rain eventually slows to a point I can shed my hot rain gear, and soon the sun comes out to warm it up at nearly sixty degrees. This feels so good and helps to take the chill out of my bones.
My knees start hurting again from the hills and wind, as I find myself getting off often to push the bike and gear uphill. Trying to concentrate on the beautiful river and nice homes that dot the shore is some relief, but not enough. The forsythia bushes are in full bright yellow color along the riverbanks as I struggle along. This short thirty-five-mile ride is turning into another long day. Thank God for the last ten miles of my day, as the headwind shifts to my back and helps to push me along, just as I’m really starting to hurt badly. The inn I booked is actually a roadside motel, which doesn’t look very nice as I ride into the parking area. I don’t really care at this point; I need a hot shower as soon as possible. They advertise a bar and restaurant attached to the motel, so this will be a plus for dinner. The lady behind the check-in counter is very nice and offers me a discount after hearing of my ride. Not much, but every dollar helps. My suspicion is right as I open the door to my room. What a dump!
I hang my wet clothes to dry, before taking a hot shower to warm up. Living out of a few side bags on the bike is turning out to be quite easy, after a little adjustment of learning to live with less, and constantly resupplying my needed items as I move along. The good part this evening is that I don’t have to go far for my food, as the bar-type restaurant is only steps from my room, which is the closest to the office. A cold beer is my first item of order as I belly up to the bar. The place looks like a workers’ bar, as a few workers and some tough-looking biker dudes sit across from me drinking beer. The menu is really not so great, mostly bar-type food. I go for the carbohydrates and protein again to fuel my body for tomorrow’s ride. The barmaid takes my order and asks me where I was riding to, as she must have seen me with my bike as I checked in. I tell her of my journey. This sparks the bikers’ attention across the bar from me, as they ask what kind of bike I had to do such a long ride. I reply, “A Jamis bicycle.”
They say, “What, are you f——ing crazy, dude?” To which I reply, “Yes, I’ve been accused of that before.” They laugh and thank me for what I’m doing, as they continue on to bad-mouth the f——ing government, and so on. “Nobody does anything for our veterans, but they have money for all these other f——ing people around the world. I bet you’re a damn vet yourself,” one of them asks, to which I answer yes. “So are we,” one claims. “Buy this dude a beer,” one man says to the barmaid. I thank him for the beer, to which he says, “F——k no, dude, thank you for what you’re doing. How in the hell old are you anyhow?” I answer, “Sixty-seven.” “Holy shit, you got to be in some kind of shape to do that.” I say I was getting there, to which they laugh. The food is so-so but tastes good, and the beer is great, as I have no problem talking with the biker dudes and the lady