Like many others, I have long been an advocate for the recumbent bicycle as transportation, and I like to demonstrate that whenever I can.  That was part of my motivation for planning a bike trip from my home in Kalamazoo to St. Louis, Missouri, the city where I was born and raised.

Prior experience had shown that I was capable of covering long distances in comfort on my big-wheeled Volae, but I was getting tired of long rides that didn’t go anywhere.  Plus, I generally dislike driving my car to the start of a bike ride. 

I envisioned a solo ride, which would allow me to choose the ideal time of year.  I thought the best time compatible with my work schedule at Western Michigan University would be in May, after spring classes ended and before it got too hot.  When I mentioned it to my friend Paul Bruneau, I was surprised and delighted to hear that he might want to come along!  Having a companion would obviously make the trip safer and more enjoyable.  Since I was planning to travel light and stay in cheap hotels along the way, having him along would reduce my expenses.  Paul and I share many interests beyond recumbent bikes, and having him to talk with would make the long, flat, featureless roads go by a lot quicker.  Being a computer geek of sorts, Paul also offered advanced wayfinding technology: portable GPS!  (Garmin Etrex, for anyone interested.)

In April I sketched a route using paper road maps, and estimated the distance at about 450 miles.  I thought that made it do-able in 3 days, 2 nights.  But reality set in when we did a ‘shakedown cruise’ one Saturday in early May.  I knew it was essential to do a longish trip with the exact equipment we intended to use before starting the real thing.  We learned a lot on that 80-mile trip to the Indiana state line and back.  Our average pace and the way we felt at the end, however, made it seem wise to allow three and a half days for the big trip.  I managed to find cheap hotels at nearly the proper intervals along the route, and I made reservations.  It didn’t take too long for us to finalize the routes with the mapping software and load them into the portable unit.

Day 1 -- Friday, May 27
After all the planning, discussing, packing, anticipating, etc., it was finally time to get this party rolling.  I felt just a little queasy as I pedaled the 2 miles to Paul’s house in the cool dawn air.  What irreplaceable mechanical part would fail out in East Nowhere?  Would strong thunderstorms or tornados block our way?  Would we even be able to find our way, when every cornfield looked the same?  Would the hotels be creepy dumps?  Would it all end like the movie Easy Rider?  I found Paul in his driveway nearly ready.  It just took a few minutes to initialize the Magic Box, find the orbiting satellites and make sure all the route data was loaded.  We embarked only 10 minutes after our planned 7:00 am departure time, with a wave from Paul’s wife Linda at the window.

Bruneau’s classic blue Ryan Vanguard was lightly loaded, with a rear rack trunk incorporating a pair of small panniers.  I was on my everyday bike, a dual 650c Volae with the carbon seat laid way back, sporting a seatback bag and a pair of Radical Design side bags from the Netherlands.  I had more stuff packed than Bruneau did, since I planned to spend a few days in St. Louis.  Paul had to change his plans slightly due to obligations at home.  He would ride with me the first two days into Illinois, then ride back on day 3 to be picked up somewhere in Indiana and driven back home, so he didn’t need to pack as much.  That left me to ride solo the last 190 miles on Sunday and Monday, planning to arrive in St. Louis in the middle of Memorial Day.

We set off due south, on the route familiar to us from our practice run, in high spirits.  Traffic was light, and we didn’t have much trouble with the few areas of road construction.  At Three Rivers we began a lovely section along the St. Joseph River, and we were soon in Indiana.  Although my partner had been in charge of the Amazing Device on our shakedown cruise, I took over on this day, so that I could get some on-the-job training for the solo part of my journey.  Despite some minor issues with the data, it was clearly going to be a lot easier to navigate this way than messing with paper maps or cue sheets.

Shortly after our first snack stop in Bristol, Indiana, about 45 miles into our planned 123-mile day, I hit a small, sharp rock at speed.  The result was a pinch flat of my front tire.  I had figured that my skinny, lightweight wheels were the weak link in my equipment for a trip like this.  I had searched for and mounted the toughest tires I could find, but there seems to be nothing wider than 23 mm available for these 650c rims.  I had decided against packing a spare tire, but was carrying two inner tubes and a mini pump, so it only took about ten minutes to get underway again.

It seemed my fears were to be realized when only about 7 miles later, my rear tire went flat!  We were almost through Elkhart when it happened.  Inspection quickly revealed a small piece of wire had worked its way through the tread.  Another tube swap and we were ready to roll again, but now both of my spare tubes had holes in them.  I pumped as much as I could, but I was pretty sure that neither tire was up to my customary 120 psi, so I tried to be extra careful about road hazards.

We finally left the industrial corridor and entered residential Mishawaka.  By Michigan time, it was just about noon when we rolled into a Mancino’s restaurant for lunch.  (Local time was only 11:00 am.) With 67 miles to go, and even after all our stops, our rolling average was still almost 14 mph.  So we enjoyed a leisurely lunch of grinders and chips.

After lunch we had to turn south again and were immediately faced with a steep half-mile climb out of the St. Joseph River valley.  We still had enough juice in our legs to spin up that hill without much trouble.  As we crossed US 20, we entered a more rural part of northern Indiana, and Paul started to have trouble steering.  Some part of his indirect, underseat system was gradually binding up.  Although he tried valiantly to keep moving, we finally had to pull over and fix it.

The blue sky started to get some clouds by 1:00 pm local time, and we had a few sprinkles mid-afternoon.  Not enough to slow us down, however, and with less frequent stops, we made good progress.  After a short detour when the Astrogator tried to put us on a gravel road, and one last snack stop at Koontz Lake, we got onto Highway 10 for the final 8.5 miles due west to our hotel in North Judson, Ind.  It was tough going into a steady headwind, but we made it to the Oak View Motel & Suites just before 5:00 pm.  After an excellent meal and a chocolate malt, we returned to our very satisfactory room, and I gave Paul a demonstration on patching inner tubes.  We had no difficulty falling asleep early.

Day 1: 123 miles
Total elapsed time: 10:45
Total time stopped:  2:09
Average speed while moving: 14.3 mph

Day 2 -- Saturday, May 28

Paul suggested that we start again at 7:00 am, EDT, which would be 6:00 am local time.  Starting early was a good idea, since this was to be our longest day, estimated at 149 miles, due to the location of the hotels I was able to find.  We had to make it through the rest of Indiana and a good part of Illinois to reach our lodgings in Urbana.  We rode through light rain on our way out of town, but nothing of consequence.  The temperature on the first day had been close to ideal, relatively cool all day, and this day looked to be about the same.  The clouds burned off in about an hour and we experienced the delayed dawn.

We had selected back roads for this part of the route, based on a maps database which was not designed with bicycles in mind.  As it turned out, we had unwittingly programmed in some gravel roads, so we had to do a bit of improvising.  The county roads were laid out in a pretty regular grid, so it was not a big problem.  We took our morning snack stop in Rensselaer, Ind., where Paul was scheduled to be picked up the next day.  After this, we were supposed to go west for about a mile on US 24.  To our chagrin, this road had just been milled in preparation for repaving.  We couldn’t see any other choice, so we went ahead and rode the very rough surface for about a mile.  I was grateful that before setting out this morning, I had used a CO2 cartridge to bring both of my tires up to full pressure.  All our tires survived.  At 69 miles we took a nice early lunch in the town of Fowler.

Although our objective now lay 60 miles (as the crow flies) to the southwest, the only roads were oriented along the cardinal points of the compass.  The wind was strong and steady out of the west, maybe 15 mph, so our westbound stretches were very tough, periodically relieved by a southbound segment.  We took turns drafting on the upwind legs.  We crossed into Illinois on a grueling 25 mile run westward through Hoopeston.  There we stopped to rest on a shady lawn, and talked with a nice gentleman who took a break from his grass mowing.

On US 136 west of Potomac, Paul’s front tire went flat.  Since his two wheels are different sizes, he used his only spare tube of that size to get going again.  After that 15-minute pause, and with our pace slowing, we had to push in order to make Urbana by nightfall.  We had a nice 7.5 mile southbound leg, followed by a slow 14.5 mile grind west before arriving at US 45 north of Urbana.  The sun was low when we finally turned south on 45, but at that point I knew we would make it.  We got across I-74, and found the Courtesy Motel right where it was supposed to be, a welcome sight indeed at just after 8:00 pm CDT.  The room was again quite adequate for our needs, with sufficient space for us and both of our bikes.  After dinner, Paul got the chance to demonstrate his inner tube patching skills.  He also spent some time writing a cue sheet for his return trip the next day, and arranging by phone for his wife to pick him up in the minivan.  He had generously offered to let me keep the Amazing Device for the remainder of my trip, so he would have to navigate by memory and with the aid of his notes. For my part, I would be without a cell phone the rest of the way.

Day 2: 151 miles
Total elapsed time: 14 hours
Total time stopped:  1:45
Average speed while moving: 12.3 mph

Day 3 -- Sunday, May 29
On our third day we set off in opposite directions at about 6:45 am.  Paul B. would head northeast for almost 120 miles, retracing our day 2 route to a rendezvous with motorized transportation somewhere in Indiana.  I was to continue southwest for a similar distance and one more night in Illinois.

It would be an interesting day.  Riding such a distance alone and unsupported was another new experience for me.  Our smooth trip so far gave me confidence that I was well-prepared, and I took comfort in the fact that the longest and most difficult day was behind me.  Unlike some of my family and friends, I really didn’t think that what I was doing was particularly dangerous.  I was admittedly impressed by how sparsely populated much of our route was, having spent all my life in cities of various sizes.  Still, I wasn’t riding through the Nevada desert; there was always a farmhouse or some sign of habitation in sight.  I knew that if I got in real trouble, I was likely to find someone willing to help in short order.

Getting through Champaign/Urbana was the type of urban riding I am most comfortable with, and at this hour on a Sunday morning, there weren’t many cars around.  Near the University of Illinois main campus, while stopped at a stop sign, I heard a pling from my rear wheel that sounded suspiciously like a spoke breaking.  I dismounted, spun the rear wheel, and did a cursory check of a few spokes.  All looked fine, so I sped off again.

I didn’t want to delay because I felt great.  The temperature was again ideal, and to my astonishment, I seemed to have a tailwind for a change!  I worried a little about how the wind might affect my comrade’s ride, but mostly I just enjoyed cranking away at 18 mph without breaking a sweat.

About 10 miles west of Champaign, I again came to an intersection where the Mystery Machine instructed me to ride on a gravel road.  I stopped to choose an alternate route, and also to look more carefully at my rear wheel, which had started to make more unfamiliar noises.  Sure enough, one of the non-drive-side spokes had broken at the nipple, at that stop sign back in town, and had finally worked its way loose.  I removed the spoke and tried to calmly evaluate my options.  I had a spoke wrench but no spare spoke.  The college town I had just left surely had a bike shop or two, but what time would they open on a Sunday?  The next largish city on my itinerary was Decatur, Ill., about 50 miles ahead.  Would I be able to get that far with only 19 spokes on the rear wheel?  If I got there, would I be able to find a shop that could make the repair?

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