Cincinnati

I made it to Cincinnati around 4pm today. It was 42 miles from where I had camped. It started raining about an hour after I left camp but it didn’t last much past noon.

I was really hoping to get here around noon and then start heading back toward cleavland. I was not real motivated today and with all the stopping to talk it was way later then I had hoped. Even though it would really hurt my budget I got a hotel room for the night. $81 dollars and its in sight of the stadium. I bet if there was a game I wouldn’t of been able to get a room. I think now I’m $110 over my budget. Im still confident I can get it back on track. At a stoplight I talked to a man who was holding a cardboard sign asking for money or food. He had a shopping cart with all his personal belongings. After talking a few minutes he reached into a child’s blue rain boot and pulled out a handfull of dollar bills that he tried to give me. I refused them and explained I was living my dream and rough days where all part of that. I guess I must of looked haggard.

Yesterday it seemed nobody wanted to stop and talk, today was the opposite. It seemed like every time I got settled into the pedaling groove somebody would stop me to chat. I met a lot of interesting people one guy had rode from Anchorage Alaska. A mother and daughter had rode from Flagstaff, Arizona. I also met Arden who is 79 years old and has ran a marathon in every state. He has ran a total of 74 and he was out for a run today.

The trail passed through the edge of Milford, Ohio. Milford is a trail town and has more long trails meet in one place then any where else.

At a road crossing stopped for traffic on a little back road, an International 4366 tractor followed by a white Buick were the only vehicles in sight. The Buick stopped in the road and the window rolled down. A woman with sad eyes looked out and asked how far you going? Alaska I replied. She leaned over to the passenger side, straightened back up and tossed a cold Gatorade towards me. I did not catch it because 1, I was not expecting it 2, I was straddling a bicycle and 3 it went approximately 12 feet over my head. She was already putting the window up before I even thanked her. She stopped with it about halfway and with enormous gravity said “don’t fall in love in Iowa”. And then she drove off before I could even reply. Had she not said it with such seriousness I might of laughed it off. As I drank the Gatorade sitting in the first shady spot I came to I continued to think on that. Maybe that’s just the advice she give all the cyclist she meets. I think it was more personal though, like she was on a tour and fell in love in Iowa. I would of liked to of talked with her more.