Rensselaer to Peru to Hessen Cassell to Napoleon to Clyde

We left Rensselaer in the quiet of a Sunday morning and rode, feeling stronger for having rested, until we got to a little town on the Tippecanoe River called Buffalo. We stopped for an early lunch, and could have paid for the rest of our trip had we the forethought to charge for looks at our bike. A whole family obviously dressed for a day on the water was so fascinated by our story that they took turns going out to "see this bike." One of the women commented, "I don't think I could stare at the back of my husband's head for that long!"

Continuing eastward, we met a man from Palo Alto and his teenage son. They had flown out to Boston and were making their way back to the west coast, camping as they went. The father rode a recumbent and the son a Trek 520. They looked a little worse for the wear, and we wondered at their progress, since it was after 2:00 p.m. and they had only traveled about 15 miles that day.

Peru was fairly uneventful, except for the convenience store that sported a giant chicken on a trailer. We took a picture, since it reminded me of the one that apparently stands near my cousin Sandy's house out in California. Had we been feeling a little more ambitious, we would have hitched the trailer to our bike and made off with the giant chicken.

Riding through the Indiana countryside gave us the most varied view we'd had so far. The Indiana highway department is experimenting with wildflowers as ground cover on the side of highways. That way, they don't mow or spray and it made for very pretty scenery. Our lunch stop was in Huntington, a beautiful town whose claim to fame is that it's the hometown of Dan Quayle. That didn't spoil our appetites too much, though, and we had lunch at Nick's Kitchen. Nick's has been in operation for over 70 years and it was easy to see why.

We enjoyed Bison burgers, hoping that we might be actually eating the bison who tried to kill us several years ago. They were delicious, and we followed them up with heaven in a bowl: homemade pies with ice cream. Bob had his first-ever rhubarb pie and I had peach. We reluctantly headed down the road for the Country Inn in Hessen Cassell. Not exactly the Waldorf, but for $35.00 (cash only), what do you want?

The highlight of Hessen Cassell was the Nine Mile Restaurant, where we had dinner and then breakfast the next day. At that point, we were less than a day's ride from Ohio, which was beginning to sound like home to us. Our ride yesterday took us into Napoleon, a beautiful town on the Maumee River. Our motel was close enough to the heart of town for a nice walk across the bride to another long-time eatery. We have been beginning to see more variety in food choices as we've come farther east, and the possibility of a glass of wine with dinner. (You don't get that much in diners!)

Today was a gorgeous day for riding, with a cool north wind and just enough sun to make it pleasant. A mid-morning stop in Tontogany was serendipitous. We were the only customers in the general store and restaurant. We were thinking about having some ice cream, when I noticed a sign that said "Betty Shaffer's Homemade Pies." I asked the woman in charge (who, by the way, was only in charge of the store until her mother arrived; after that she would join her father baling in the fields.) She informed us that Betty was an 83-year-old baker and that she had two pieces of red raspberry pie left. A few of you will get the import of this statement: that pie rivaled Allison Shellito's. I have not tasted raspberry pie like that for 25 years.

It fortified us for our ride to Clyde. The frustration is that parts of us could ride forever. Our stamina is good, our legs feel strong, all the aches and pains that plague us during everyday life are absent. However, OUR BUTTS ARE SORE!!! In spite of that today's ride went quickly, and we had the treat of riding the last 10 miles into Clyde on a paved bike trail where we met a couple on a tandem recumbent who were also doing the country on the installment plan. As we ambled down the trail, he handed me his card and told us that when we cross New York State next year, he hosts cyclists and his house is just a mile off the Erie Canal Trail. So we even have one of our stops for next year planned.

Our destination for tomorrow is Cleveland. Our plan is to stay in a really nice hotel near where we stayed with our friends Rose and John back in March. Our mouths are already watering for the Cajun food at Fat Fish Blue, and then it's on to our car parked near Pymatuning Lake. It's hard to believe we're this close to the end.