Single Display Train Car in New Charleston & Loose Ends

So. I'm here, in Cleveland. I'm sittiing in my sister's nicely furnished livingroom within close proximity to a candy jar. I eat red meat once a day. If I wake up before ten, it is no more than a minute till I fall back asleep. I still ride my bike. I still look forward to that feeling after the lactic acid breaks downs and body and bike are more unified than the knee waiting in its socket wrapped in enough mucles to tear one, or get pretty close, and still be able to bike. I got a ride from Columbus to Cleveland. Was feeling moody the day I arrived in Columbus. Wanted to scream. And I was thinking, 'what is wrong with me?.' Turns out my eyes were watering. My knee wasn't swollen. It kinda itched. It also kinda stabbed and throbbed. Uh. Mind over matter is only helpful when the matter isn't the soft tissue of your knee ripping. I'm fine. Feel like a weenie for getting a ride. I was afraid I would permanently damage my knee otherwise. I've been riding about twenty miles a day. Have also been eating like a viking. Trying to see family and friends before I leave Cleveland. Saying my 'hellos, how're you?, you seem well, I'm just visiting, goodbyes.' Trying to plan the next six months of my life. Have a craigslist ride to Chicago tomorrow.

The little Scum Bag that could

Still surprised that I'm doing this. I've almost done it. I'm in Columbus. I biked to Ohio. Now all I have to do is make it home. I'm really overwhelmed. Having a hard time forming sentences out of my thoughts. Here are some pictures of my feet. They helped get me here.

Still here. Dropped this apple and felt great sympathy. Foraged walnuts. Met a man by the river and drank his Keystone Ice. Now in Eastern Standard Time zone. Reading the Twilight series. Feeling too much. Someone should stab Stephenie Meyers in the eye. Not that that would do anything. Looking feral. Smelling homeless. Which I am. Feel like circus music should burst from the bike. People stare. At my butt, mostly, which is looking phenominal these days.

Oh Shit

It's cold. That's the Ohio River on the Illinois side. I slept in my sleeping bag under a picnic table that night. Stupid. I slept in a tent the next night. This proved to be a better decision. Feeling rested, although very cold, and am able to bike a full day. Desperately need tights (do not have pants or full tights) and full fingered gloves. Frost bite could be an issue. Thanks Kentucky.

Signs without Maps

I'm in a room heated to roughly seventy degrees in a nicely decorated home in Murphysboro, Illinois. The bed I have been sleeping in has more than two pillows on it. My hosts have been accommodating and enjoyable. The dog mounted my head. That's what dogs do when they like you. Seems like Murphysboro has taken a liking to me as well. I've been stuck here waiting for my maps. I left them at my last stop in Farmington, Missouri, which is a hundred miles from here. I was pretty tired then. Was considering taking a train to Chicago. Was considering it. Felt like I was untying a knot with my head. Feel like I'm making the best decision (for myself). Feel like leaving my maps and being forced to rest was a gift. Or a sign. I was just exhausted. Now I have to push on. Thanks again Heather & Jared for the Murphysboro welcoming.

Blog Log

Met some folks. Here are their blogs. One of you jerks I already knew, but the rest were strangers. I Feel a great affection for all you. You're amazing.

Cari http://squidonabicycle.blogspot.com/

Charles http://ghostofphaedrus.tumblr.com/

Taylor http://tdrouetcoast2coast.blogspot.com/

Zach & Jordan & Jeff http://biketocuba.com/

"What age are you Living in?"

some kid oggled out the window of an SUV. That was the first time someone talked shit. We were in Missouri. Granted, we look like the cast for a movie about inter-galactic adventures in the eighties. We're still fit and healthy and determined and why would you say that anyway? Passed this river a couple days ago. A tributary of the Mississippi perhaps. I liberated the Urtle that day as well. Felt like oppressor. Tried to think of a more native name for the Urtle, but don't know what turtles speak. Pulling hundred mile days through the Ozarks. Getting getting getting. there or going. And if you look real close you'll see a grasshopper.