day forty-nine: shippenville to curwensville recreational area (103km)

Decent cycling weather today, finally: still muggy but much less so, temperatures in the low 20s. Threatened to rain most of the day despite the insistence of the weather forecast that it almost certainly wouldn't.

Had second breakfast in Clarion, next town down the road from the campground. The sweet roll was the largest thing I've ever seen: four times the size of a conventional sweet roll and dripping with frosting.

Met up with Kammy in Brockville at the Opera House Cafe. Mike autographed a copy of his book while I downed two smoothies and he drank a coffee. (He had one person come to his book signing last night.) I was expecting a non-fiction book on climate change, but no, it's a parable inspired by Mark Twain and"The Day the Earth Did Still".

Cycled past a motel I stayed in when I cycled in from Ohio sometime in the late 1980s (still trying to remember precisely when). I remember marveling at the time at its undisturbed early 1950s furnishings, down to the TV sets. Was amazed to find that the motel is still there and still in business, with a bit of modernizing on the exterior.

Turned off 322 -- which in 1985 I'd followed the whole way to Harrisburg -- near the summit of Coal Hill to head south on 219. Was surprised to find a shortcut to Curwensville that Google Maps hadn't thought to mention. Stopped for groceries at the Dollar General in Curwensville (clearly an old industrial town with a large, mostly vacant-looking plant of some kind just outside town, and learned from a historical marker that the process of wrapping individual slice of cheese in plastic was invented here in the early 1950s).

day forty-eight: two-mile park to shippenville (59km)

Rain started just as I was preparing to leave the campground at eight this morning. Tried twice to get started after the rain stopped, only to have the downpour start again. Finally gave up and cycled to town in it, 10km: my first wet ride of the entire trip. Got to town and tried calling Kammy ( my old high school science teacher) but although I had a good data signal, I could not make any calls. Sat at Tim Hortons and drank coffee, drying out while I watched the Kavanaugh hearings. Corey Booker had just announced that he was releasing "confidential" documents to the press, and he was fully prepared in case he gets thrown out of the Senate. All his DP colleagues on the committee backed him up. The questions put to Kavanaugh were mostly not that interesting nor the answers enlightening, though Senator Graham's were downright scary. He asked a series of leading questions (which Kavanaugh wisely sidestepped) saying that, regardless how one felt about abortion, Roe v. Wade was a horrible decision because it established the principle that the Supreme Court had completely unlimited power, barring a Constitutional amendment, to allow/disallowanything. It was the slippery-slope argument on steroids. "Your honor, is the word 'abortion' found anywhere in the US Constitution?" "No, it is not." "And yet they granted this unenumerated right, based on what?" It kinda went downhill from there.

Was still hungry, so I stopped in at an Italian restaurant for a pizza -- which was good, both because I could now call Kammy and because the rain, which I thought finally had stopped, began again in earnest, finally stopping for good a bit after one. It was now too late for Kammy to meet me -- he has his book-signing gig in State College tonight -- but hopefully tomorrow. I'm quite looking forward to reading his book (on climate change)!

The temperatures were better after the rain but the humidity just as high as before: nearly 100%. This meant that, when I climbed hills, I didn't have to walk (save once), but I had to stop frequently, because I was sweating so madly -- even though the temperature was only about 23. It's weird to have the temperatures so mild and yet feel so frigging hot.

Stopped early because I couldn't find any other campgrounds for quite some distance, at least along my preferred route of travel. Forecast for the next two days looks good though, before heavy rains on Sunday.

day forty-seven: conneaut lake to two-mile county park, franklin (69km)

Probably the hardest day cycling of the whole trip. The temperatures were only in the low 30s but the humidity was over 95%. Had to walk up the least inclines because I was sweating and overheating so bad. I will never complain about dry Montana heat again.

day forty-six: punderson state park to conneaut lake (104km.)

Got nearly to Conneaut Lake before I took a closer look at the website for the campground and saw the"no tenting" notice. Spent an hour hunting around for a motel that would answer the phone. Discovered after I checked in that I could have stayed at the campground next door. I'd read the website to say they were closed, but it was just badly worded.

day forty-five: olmsted falls to punderson dam state park (70km)

Slow getting started -- left Aunt Ruth's and Tim's just before ten -- and made slow progress all day, partly due to the urban areas I went through, partly due to the horrible road surface till I left Palma, partly due to a crosswind that was meant to be more of a tailwind, partly due to the preparing-for-a-thunderstorm heat and humidity that persisted throughout the day. The riding wasn't bad, if not as scenic as Ohio 82, which I took the last time I passed this way. After Palma though the scenery and road became much nicer. There are some amazingly deep -- for lack of a better description -- river canyons in this part of Ohio, starting with the one just before the airport.

Valley View was *in* the valley, so the view you got was before and after. Berlin Heights was just what the name suggests. Maple Heights was really striking: every (modest) house was immaculate, every lawn well kept. On the surface it was a picture postcard view of the American dream. The whole appearance of the town said, "we are comfortably middle class, and we know it." And oh, I was the only European pale-skinned face to be seen.

After Maple Heights, I went through the shopping district for, by all appearances, a working-class poor community, then it into heavily wooded countryside with some *amazingly* well-to-do homes and at least one house verging on being a mansion.

I have this particular ridge at the campground all to myself tonight. (The campground isn't crowded, as the holiday weekend ends tonight. For many school children, tomorrow is, of course, the first day of school; summer's over.) The thunder is rumbling soothingly now and again, and there's the occasional flash of distant lightning. I still have not been rained on this entire trip, save once at a campground in Montana when I sheltered under an overhang, and another time in the dry comfort of my tent. Saw lots of puddles and wet pavement this evening though, and the last part of the ride benefited from the rain clearly having just passed through.

day forty-four (2 september): findlay to olmsted falls (163 km)

Slow getting off from Uncle Dick and Sharon's as Uncle Dick, not surprisingly, wanted to get a little last visiting in; and I was enjoying the coffee, too. Got away shortly before 8:30 and made good time despite my concerns. It helped that Sharon had fed me very well, and packed a lunch for me -- which lasted until 11am when I sat under a big tree in front of the college campus in east Tiffin and gobbled down all the sandwiches.

Have seen a lot more train activity in Ohio than I did in Michigan, at the level of what I saw out west or above. Got stopped by a St. Louis Southern train in Tiffin. Wasn't familiar with them; will have to look them up. Waited fifteen minutes for a train in Bellevue going by at jogging pace as the line of cars built up.

Took Ohio 113 from Bellevue, which was a good choice at least till I got to Elyria. (Last time I cycled this way I took US 20, which is a really busy road.) Roads into Milan -- Edison's birthplace -- were blocked off by police directing traffic, though they let me through. Here the town was having its Melon Days Festival, complete with a big parade, fancy floats, and too many beauty queens to count. I didn't stay long because the crowds were pretty intense. They were shuttle busing people in from the high school two miles west of town. (At first I couldn't figure out why the high school parking lot was full on a Sunday.)

Should have gotten water in Milan but was put off by the crowds, so I'd run out till I came to a fruit stand turned major country market. Bought cider that I shared with Ruth and Tim. Went past an outfitters in the middle of the countryside -- open! -- but couldn't remember what it was I needed, and I was racing crazy fast downhill at the time. (I need a patch kit for my Thermarest.)

Elyria was a pain because 113, though not a limited access highway and with extremely wide shoulders, was marked "no bicycles". I rode it anyway because there were no obvious alternatives. (Ohio 113 directly parallels the Ohio turnpike at that point.) I was very grateful to leave Elyria behind.

Arrived at Ruth and Tim's in Olmsted Falls 7:30. Stayed up talking to the two of them till nearly midnight. Ruth is all the witty conversationalist I remembered, and it turns out Tim is as well. He's also quite the cyclist.

day forty-three (31 august): grand rapids to findlay (108km.)

Woke early (shortly after five) so I could make it to Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Bill's before their appointment at one. Was off from the campground by a quarter till eight. Stopped in McClure at the gas station for something to drink. Headed over US6 and rejoined Ohio 109 through Malinta to Hamler and then Carolyn and Bill's, maybe a mile past Zion Church, which was a great deal smaller than I remembered it. (The road was closed about a mile north of Hamler. This proved easy to walk my cycle past. Couldn't figure out what they were doing, but Robin (my cousin) said it's for a major pipeline that's going in.) Robin had brought lunch for her parents (beef and egg noodles, like my mom used to make), and I was invited to join. I was trying to remember if I'd met Robin's husband Jim before. He thought I must have (they're coming up on their fortieth anniversary), but I wasn't so sure. (It turns out did meet once at least, at Grandma's funeral.)

Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Bill left for their appointment and Robin and Jim for home. I cycled a few hundred meters down to the road to my maternal grandparents' house. I knocked on the door and Jim Creager answered the door. He ended up giving a tour of the house which, needless to say, looks a lot different than I remembered though there was much, of course, that I did remember. (I was last in the house I think when I was seventeen.) The small entryway with room for coats on either side is gone, replaced by a new door and a wraparound porch. Grandma and Grandpa's bedroom is now the dining room, with a large serving window into the kitchen. On the other hand, the bedroom where I used to sleep didn't look so different, and the black walnut tree I used to climb was still there, though the crook I used to sit in was nowhere to be seen. (So were the barn, chicken coop, corn crib, and well house, all looking from the outside just as they did.) A lot of the changes inside the house weren't ones I'd have made, though I did appreciate all the exposed hard wood.

Jim asked me whether I carried a gun while I cycled; I told him I did not. "I don't cycle as far as you, not more than twenty miles at a time, but I use my concealed carry and always have my gun with me." He also asked whether it was true what he kept hearing on the news, that Europe was overrun with refugees and a basket case of problems. I said the number of refugees was never a flood and had dropped year on year for a number of years. Meanwhile, Europe's view of the US is that it's basically a basketcase of problems.

Leaving the Creagers, I rode out Ohio 18 past my Aunt Florence and Uncle Ray's house, where the stucco appears to be falling off. The old turkey barns have been replaced by big new warehouse-type buildings. The one thing that hadn't changed at all was the swimming pond with its diving platform.

A mile past the farm I heard someone calling my name. It was my cousin Jim, whom I'd last seen at John's funeral. He refilled my water bottle and would have given me trail mix and snack bars, and a lift to Findlay, but I said I was really fine.

As the afternoon went on I developed a severe headache that would come and go, though it increasingly did more of the former than the latter. At first I thought it was the heat, but as the evening grew cooler, the headache got worse. Made it to Uncle Dick and Sharon's in East Findlay much later than I was planning on, around seven thirty. Uncle Dick was outside on the sidewalk waiting. Wondering now if I got food poisoning from that cold (chicken) pizza.