I Tried Not To Cry. Michael Beattie
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for food and drinks. I thank the group for the drinks and head back to my room after handshakes and receiving best wishes for a safe journey. “Be careful on the road with all those f——ing idiots out there!” I purchase a beer to take back to the room to have with my daily nuts. The traffic in and out of the parking lot is nonstop all night and into the early hours as the bar seems like a busy place. The walls are paper-thin in this room, which makes for a not very good night’s sleep.
After I have oatmeal and coffee in my room, I gather up my dry clothes, pack them away, and head out into the chilly morning air. Last evening, I booked a room in the Baltimore Plaza Hotel in downtown Baltimore, which looked like the least costly I could find on my route. I’m not looking forward to riding through Baltimore, or any other cities for that matter. I’m a country boy and really don’t care for heavily congested areas, but that’s where my route is taking me. The ride today should be around fifty-nine miles with another stiff wind. I almost immediately enter into Maryland as I ride past large horse farms and stately homes. The hills along with the constant fifteen-to-eighteen-mile-per-hour wind starts taking a toll on my legs once again. I’m forced to stop and rest my legs more than I want to. I’m trying to baby them rather than tear them up, worried once again! Eventually the route takes me through the Loyola Notre Dame college campus which has a bike lane to ride on. I feel so much better having the bike lane, as the traffic is getting really crazy busy as I near the waterfront area of the city. The bike lane ends and dumps me right in the heart of craziness city traffic. I finally reach the hotel near the waterfront section of the city, and I’m so happy to still be in one piece. God, I dislike cities! Someone is watching over me, that I’m sure of!
The hotel is an older one, but appears to be clean and doesn’t look very dangerous. The price is right as I get checked in and make my way toward the elevator. I ride to the fourth floor and exit the elevator toward my room, as things look good. The room is very nice and quiet, and I can’t hear any street traffic below. I’m happy. As I entered the hotel, I noticed an oriental restaurant just a short ways down the walkway, so in my mind, I settled for that for my dinner. There is also a liquor store to purchase beer and nuts. After showering, I head down to order an oriental dish with lots of noodles. While waiting for the order, I go next door and purchase two beers and nuts to have in my room along with the takeout food order. I love Chinese food! As I ice my knees, I enjoy a most wonderful meal along with my beer. I’m happy! I plan my attack for tomorrow as I study my options, post my Facebook blog and pictures, make my contact back home with instructions as to where I will ride tomorrow. Once again, people stopped me on the roadside to make donations today, so I must relay that information to Sue each evening so she can mail a thank-you letter and receipt to anyone donating ten dollars or more. I keep track of any smaller donations and report that amount to Sue each day so I can reimburse any funds that I use as cash from my own checking account. I don’t like riding with any amount of money on me and rely on my checking account debit card for all transactions. So far, it has been working well. The bed is good tonight, as I hope to get more rest than I did last night.
After oatmeal and a coffee in my room, I depart the hotel from the seaport area and head uphill for approximately seven miles of slow climbing with a moderate wind. This area looks very depressed, and I’m glad I started early, beating any type of rush traffic. I’m not sure what could happen in this area if I was stopped. Being a white privileged male from the country could cause me issues in this area, which appears to be such a depressed area, populated by mostly black Americans. I guess I’ve been so fortunate to grow up in an area where everyone is treated equal, so I only see people for who they are, not by any color. All people look the same to me, and if they need food assistance, I don’t really care who they are. One store after another is boarded up and out of business.
Business for the small Champlions general store slowly eroded away, as an out-of-town couple opened a larger store that offered much more than that little general store. It was known as MoQuins store, and was located on the hill just down from the stone church on the main route. Aside from gasoline for autos, it was a cross between a general store and a grocery store. Being an IGA chain store, it offered so much more for the customers, and at lower prices. Slowly, Susie faded into the shadow of that larger store, as it became a chore for her to walk from the rear of the store to the front counter. She spent most of her remaining days rocking in an old rocker located to the rear of the store, slightly behind the large wooden candy display case, where she could look out at the traffic that passed by. An occasional longtime customer would stop by, mostly to check on her and say hello. The inventory slowly diminished as the customer base shifted over to a more modern way of life. I grew older and became employed by other restaurants after turning sixteen, yet, I continued to stop and keep Susie occupied with a visitor as often as I could. Soon after this period of time, I left Eagleville to join the Navy, deployed, and served four years during the Vietnam War. It was during this period I was notified by family members that Susie had passed away, basically a lonely lady without any family. I never got to attend any services for Susie due to my deployment, but hardly a day passes that I don’t think of the sweet lady who made me the fussy worker that I turned out to be. You were right, Mrs. Champlion. After working for you, I was able to work for anyone, with careful and precise work ethics.
There seems to be no places to stop for a breakfast, but I spot a barred-up convenience store and stop to grab a coffee to have with a protein bar from my bags. This area doesn’t look safe at all, and thankfully no one seems to be moving about this early as I waste no time and keep moving out of the Baltimore surroundings. I feel so blessed to be me! I slowly make my way up and down through the towns of Ellicott City, Reisterstown, Wards Chapel, and then Brookeville. These are all very nice-looking towns with their grand homes showing the history of this area. I stop to read a historical marker as I enter Brookeville, which states that it was the US capital of our country for one day during the War of 1812. I’ll do some research on that later, as it seems interesting. The stronger winds hold off until later in the day when the sun warms it up to sixty degrees. The motel which I booked last evening is in a corporate park area of Rockville, Maryland, which requires me to ride off my route a considerable distance. Once again, I get lost. The traffic is crazy busy in this area of congestion, making my search for the motel an even slower process. After Google Mapping my way, I finally find the motel after ten hours on the saddle. It’s really discouraging to get lost in such a high traffic area being this tired. The motel is a bit pricey, but the least costly I could find in my search. Thus, I rode the extra distance to get here. My knees seem to be doing well as I didn’t push it today, riding at an easy pace. My butt is beyond sore, as I continue to treat it. I stop during my ride to rotate my shorts in hopes of keeping it dry, yet, it only seems to be effective for a short while.
My concern is finding my way back to my route in commuter traffic in the morning. Sue has scheduled me to do a visit with Congressman Joe Courtney’s office for an interview and photos at the Capitol Building. An early morning start may be needed in order to find my way on time. Also, there is the possibility of doing a TV interview, but we’re not sure yet. Sue constantly alerts news media of my journey on a daily basis after she knows of my plans for the next day. So far, we have garnered no interest in my ride to feed the hungry, so this is exiting news. Rain is forecasted for tomorrow afternoon, along with strong winds. The motel is very nice and clean, as the bed. After my icing, posting, and contacts back home, I head to bed as once again I’m tired.
After a quick bite in the motel, I head out into the dark in search of the Capital Crescent bike trail, which will somehow take me to the capital. After some crazy riding in morning commuter traffic, I somehow find the trail. I push my bike down an embankment to get on the trail, as I can’t find any other access onto it. Now that I’m on the trail, I’m not really sure which way to go, but I rely on my compass to head me in what I hope is the right direction. A young lady riding a bike passes me, as I ask her if she knows the way. She responds that she’s going that way and for me to follow her. Her pace is a bit too fast for me as she’s riding a road bike with no gear, but I keep up with her for the next twelve miles. It’s a good thing she came along, as there’s no way I could have found my way on this very complicated, not well-signed series of trails, which eventually leads to the capital area. I enter the capital area, somewhere near the Washington Monument, and coordinate by phone my meeting with an aide from the congressman’s office.
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