Orleans via Medora: It's All Good

"This time round I'm searching

down to where I used to go, 

and its been on my mind to make 

it shine."

James Taylor 

 

So my test ride earlier in the week went okay, unlike the week before.  And so, I decide to try a century.  The club has an easy century on the schedule, but I don't want any pressure to push myself or anyone to inconvenience.  After some internal debate, I decide to kill two birds with one stone.  I will plan on doing my Orleans century that has a first store stop in Medora.  This will allow me to see if Dollar General has opened there.  And, I tell myself, I can turn around and make it a fifty mile ride if my wrist is hurting too badly.  

 

I slip out into the cool of the morning shortly after first light.  It is supposed to get near ninety today and I have been off the bike and have not at all acclimated to the sudden heat wave that hit this area.  That being said, I was never one that felt one hour made that much difference in the end.  And I really am in  no rush.  There is no ride captain to sigh and wish this chubby anchor had stayed home and no husband at home wondering if I am okay and when I will arrive. Still, I maintain a decent pace, surprising myself when I reach Medora and have averaged a bit over 16.  Of course, it is a flat course, but still I am pleased.  And I am back in  love with bicycling, with the feel of my muscles as they turn the pedals, with the way the wind teases me, the whirl of the changing sights and sounds.  The words of Dr. Seuss come to mind, "Oh, the places you will go."

 

Along the way I think of my new hobby, watercolor painting, and try to look at things and see how I would paint them.  I think I need to either attach my carradice to this bike or take the bike with the rack so that I can fit sketching materials.  I wonder about the round barn.  It would make a lovely painting, but it is white. I wonder if it is too much white for an effective painting; however, when I reach there they have painted it and it is no longer white.  I then decided that the challenge would be to paint a round building.  But I am looking forward to trying.  I spend time wondering how the roundness of a building would affect the shadowing, but I never reach a conclusion.

 

In Medora, I find the new Dollar General is open.  It adds about a mile to the course as it is on the outskirts of town, but it is nice to once again have a place to buy a drink and a bite to eat there.  I buy a chocolate milk and pull out my homemade baked oatmeal/blueberry bar that I had in the freezer for just such an occasion.  It is a bit soggier than I would like, but it tastes good and I know what is in it.  

 

And then I am off on my favorite part of the route:  the section between Medora and Orleans.  I pull off at the old brick factory, however, which is a bit off course.  I am glad I do as I see it is still being worked on.  When I first came across it in my wandering, it was completely overgrown.  It is now being restored as a historical site.  After leaving, I appreciate the purple flowers growing near the railroad tracks.  For much of this section, the road has the railroad on one side and the river on the other.  For some reason, it hits me that as often as I have ridden this section, I have never seen a train.  Do they still use the track?  They must as near the brick factory there were piles of railroad ties that were being replaced, or I think that is what they are called. 

 

Before you know it, I am doing the long climb up the Devil's Backbone.  Until Medora the course is flat, but  no more.  It is a long climb but not really a steep climb.  I grin to myself when I reach what I originally called The House of the Thousand Dogs because when I came this way exploring, the family that lived there must have had at least twenty dogs.  Too many to count.  Now the house is silent.  I see roads tempting me going different directions that I have not explored, but decide not to risk it today when I am not sure of my fitness level.  There will, perhaps, be other days to go exploring.  The climb makes me think of Packman and I think how sad it is that our friendship ended over politics, but it is what it is.  Sometimes words that are said cannot be unsaid.

 

On this section I begin thinking about the year Steve Rice, Bill Pustow, Larry Preble, and I rode this course when it was ten degrees outside.  I picked the course so that we would fight the wind going out and would have it at our back on the return trip.  The unthinkable happens, however.  I have a flat.  Luckily Steve Rice fixes it for me as he is much faster than I am.  I would probably have suffered frostbite.  Not only was it cold, but it was windy.  Bill hands me the pump to give to Steve and I turn, accidentally hitting Steve in the head.  (He was wearing his helmet).  Steve thinks Bill did it, however, and turns to Bill asking what that was for.  Bill has no idea what Steve is talking about and despite the fact that we all might freeze death in the next few seconds, I am laughing so hard I almost wet my pants.  We did make it that day and in my mind I can still see Bill at the end with icicles hanging from his facial hair.   And no, I didn't have frozen shorts.  I "almost" wet my pants, but I didn't.  Good times.

Before I know it, I am at Orleans and decide to find the Pizza Place.  I get there just as their Farmer's Market is closing.  One of the sellers is an Amish couple, elderly, but their wagon is packed.  No home baked goods today.  I sigh as there is no longer a Pizza place where I believe it was before, only to round the corner and find a new Pizza place.  And it has open outside seating.  While pizza is a bit heavy for the middle of a ride, I am over 60 miles in and decide to give it a try.  I found the service incredibly fast and the pizza much better than I expected.   The server seems surprised that I only want one plate, but hey, I manage to master that personal pizza.  After all, I am riding over one hundred miles today, or that is the plan.

When I leave, I realize that it is really starting to heat up.  It feels good to sweat.  I am glad I remembered to put sun screen on.  I am also glad for the occasional cloud cover.  I toy in my mind with possible route changes so as to have a less busy road going into and out of Orleans and decide to look at a map when I get home.  I suppose it doesn't matter much when it is just me, but I would like to  put this course on the club schedule again sometime.  I pass some fields of corn and am glad to see them.  I have seen so few and those I have seen have been pretty sad looking.  I have seen  lots of soy beans and a beautiful alfalfa field that needs to be cut before the bloom sets in, but little corn. I suppose the wet weather plays into this, but not being a farmer don't really know.  

 

I thought I might be lonely, but when I reach Salem I realize I have really enjoyed this ride.   The solitude has given me time to think and I have been able to stop and take photos whenever the urge hit me. And I enjoy the last few miles despite legs that are growing weary and a wrist that aches like  the dickens and reminds me that my pogo sticking days are now officially behind me.  I haven't set any speed records, but I also am satisfied with the time it took me to complete the course.  And I am glad that I made the decision to do this ride, to relive some old memories, and to tempt myself with new roads to explore.  Yes, I intend to make it shine.