Milan to Parma -Grand Tour of Italy

 I slept pretty well at the campground, only being woken up about six times by passing freight trains.  Otherwise it was very quiet and peaceful.   

I broke camp and started day 2 of my Bike Travel Weekend.  I said goodbye to the campground. 

I rode to the McDonald's up the highway for breakfast, since there didn't seem to be any other alternatives nearby. 

The clerk didn't even balk when I asked him for a European style Americano added to my coffee, since I didn't see espresso shots on the menu.  Great customer service!  Tried to stay on my WW program, had scrambled eggs and oatmeal until I realized instant oatmeal had sugar in it.  So I stopped at half a serving. I crossed US 250 one more time and headed down Mason Road.  It was a great road for cycling, before I had gone half a mile I met three cyclists coming the other way.  The road was all gentle curves and rolling hills. The wind was at my back.  I passed a sign that said "Berlin Heights", and even though Berlin is not in Italy, I stopped to take a photo with my bike. 

 Finally I needed to turn south in order to arrive in Florence.  Now the wind was in my face.  I crossed through the underpass beneath the turnpike, and as I rode up the hill I was doing my normal uphill routine of telling myself I didn't half to climb the whole hill, just to the next pothole. Or just to the next twig at the side of the road.  Or just to the next tree shadow crossing the road. And then when I reach that milestone, I pick a new spot further up the road.   Well, I saw a dandelion and made that my next marker.  Only when I reached it, I saw it wasn't a dandelion, but rather a dead goldfinch. 

This was a bad omen for me.  If you've been reading my blog for a while, you know that I consider the goldfinch my "spirit animal" and that when they fly alongside my bike, I consider it a token of good luck. I had had several flying with me on Friday morning at the start of my trip, for a while I saw a new one every mile or so.   I wasn't sure what to think when I saw the dead goldfinch. 

 My heart was racing from the effort of climbing up the incline. But it also seemed harder to push the pedals than it had earlier.  Maybe it was the headwind.  Or the goldfinch? Or maybe something worse?  

I thought had better check to see if something from my pack was dragging, or a brake shoe was rubbing the rim, and sure enough, that was what had happened. There was black rubber all over the right side of the back rim. 

 After my heart slowed down a little, I started banging on the brake cable to see if i could get it centered again. Because to find the right tools for the job would mean unpacking all the stuff in the panniers to find my toolkit in the bottom.  

Just then I noticed a woman coming out of the house, asking if I was OK. She said her husband used to own bike shop, he could help me. He was a bike maintenance guru. She mentioned he used to race professionally all over the country. 

 He came out and I noticed he was walking on the road to my bike barefoot!  After I explained the situation, he volunteered to go get an Allen wrench to adjust the brake shoe. Which he did, bless him! 

 Their names were Ben and Tina. I thank them from the bottom of my heart. And  I thank Providence, the Universe and the Lord that if this issue had to happen to me today, I had the good fortune for it to happen in front of their house-just when Tina happened to be looking out the window. How much of a  coincidence could that really be!  I am surely blessed! 

I rode into Berlin Heights.  What a beautiful small town! I saw a restaurant with an outdoor seating area and flowers and a huge awning. 

 I rode past and noticed a smaller restaurant on the main street with a couple outside and lace curtains in the windows.  I thought it would be a good place to stop and get a cold drink. 

The gentleman had an oxygen tank.  He mentioned that when he was younger,  he used to ride his cycle a lot, and that he had once visited Montana with a tour group.  Even though he thought he was in condition for the ride, it was a lot harder than he thought.  Evidently the mountains in Montana are bigger than the hills in Ohio!  He said his wife and daughter stayed home to watch the carpet store while he was touring.  As we were talking, another older gentleman drove up in his Jaguar with historical plates.  Berlin Heights seems like a really nice place to live. 

I bade them goodbye and started on my way to Florence once again.  When I arrived, there is nothing to see there, as I noted in an earlier post, so I kept going to Wakeman, Ohio. Because this is a "Tour of Italy" I stopped at the East of Chicago pizza restaurant. No bike rack, so I chained my bike to a metal bench. Besides pizza, they also have other food such as salads and subs.  I had a taco salad with no cheese or sour cream (still trying to stay on WW plan!)

I got back on my bike and got on the North Coast Inland Trail headed east.  This section of the trail is paved so nicely. I have ridden it before and I always feel like I am flying, the trail is so smooth.  It runs along US 20 for a while, then turns on a small road and follows an old rail line.  The section along the highway was pretty hot, but the rail-trail was shaded and was quite a relief.  I stopped in Kipton, took my shoes off, and lay down in the grass for a little while to rest.  

Later in the 85-degree day, after riding about 35 miles in NINE hours (really slowly, with lots of stops and breaks...) realized wasn't going to make it the remaining 20 miles before dark (or collapsing). I'd taken too many rest stops.   I stopped Oberlin at a park, to refill my water bottle. There were couple of bike club members there and explained my ride to them, and that was going to have to call my husband: to come and get me or else call Uber to get to the B&B. Lo and behold, five miles down the trail, two different older gentlemen, five minutes apart, passed me. Both stopped and offered assistance. One offered his guest bedroom and the other offered lift to my AirBnb. Since my brother in law lived few miles away, declined both offers, but the point is that they offered. The kindness and generosity of my fellow cyclists never fails to amaze me. 

  I did end up calling my brother-in-law, who very kindly put his bike rack on his car and came and collected me and took me the remaining 15 miles to the AirBnB in Middleburg Heights.  I probably COULD have made it before dark, but I was really tired and even though I had been hydrating all day long, I was feeling a few twitches in my muscles as if they wanted to cramp.  

Rome to Milan - Grand Tour

 I woke up early this morning with only a few last minute things to pack. I knew I would need to get my tent and sleeping pad from the barn.  I had packed clothes and food yesterday, but I still had to get my tools and my handlebar bag off my Silque and put them on the Trek 520.   I had a few other last minute items to gather up that I could not live without for four days.  

At any rate, it took longer to do all that this morning than I had planned.  I had told Ed I wanted to start riding my bike at 9:00 am to ride today's planned 38 miles and have time to set up my tent and eat dinner.  You guessed it, at 9:15 we were just getting in the car.  

When we got to the planned starting point, the Rome community church in Northern Richland County, we saw a couple of Amish girls on the highway on their bikes. They were wearing the traditional dresses and hats.  I congratulated myself on picking a good route with regular bicycle traffic.  I was wearing my high-visibility yellow jersey, bike shorts, and a helmet. Quite a contrast!  I realized I needed a bathroom, and there were none in sight.  The nearest gas station was seven miles away. I guess the Amish have gasoline delivered to their farms.  So Ed drove me there. Such a nice husband!  There was construction along the way and it took nearly another half an hour to get the seven miles.  I confessed to him about my anxieties of yesterday and we both said that good planning and preparation for any anticipated problems is the best I can do.  I have my tools, my emergency food, clothes, my credit card, my phone, and a backup battery.  

I made an executive decision.  It's my trip and I get to decide where I ride. I can visit Rome on the return trip, since I had planned to go there anyway on the last day to pick up my car.  I told him since I was running an hour late, I would have him drive me 12 miles closer to my destination of Milan.   When we got to the 12 mile point, he didn't like the road we were on because there were a lot of semi-trucks and no shoulder to speak of. So he kept driving.  Eventually we arrived at a road he deemed suitable.  By this time we had whittled today's mileage down to about 25.  

He dropped me off at a farm field lane.  The loaded bike was really heavy to lift down off the rack.  It was also a bit awkward to mount, having to clear my leg and hip over the seat and the panniers and my tent.  It felt a bit unstable.  We said goodbye.   As I rode up and down the gently rolling hills, I realized that the extra weight was quite an advantage as it gave me more momentum on the downhills to carry me up the following uphills.  When I stopped to check the map, I heard the clip-clop of horses pulling an Amish buggy on an intersection behind me.  

The miles flew by.  There were a lot of very gently rolling hills, but I conquered them with the help of my extra weight in the back!  The weather forecast had called for mid-eighties and sunny today, but I am guessing it was more like low seventies, overcast, and there were occasional droplets of rain still coming down.

This is a grand tour of Italian cities, so I am going to attempt to eat at Italian restaurants as much as possible along the way.  I stopped for lunch in Norwalk at a pizza place. They didn't have a bike rack, so I used my cable lock to attach my bike to the metal brace holding their sign on the wall.  I had pollack fish bites and a salad (with Italian dressing)! The fish bites were deep fried, but I picked as much of the breading as possible off.    After lunch I plotted a new course to Milan.  I asked the waitress if Plank road was paved, since on Google Maps it seemed quite narrow.  She confirmed that it would be a nice road for biking. 

It was a nice road.  While I was travelling down it, the sun came out, along with some humidity.  By the time I reached Milan, I was quite hot. I had to cross the highway, luckily traffic was light in the middle of the day.  Being overly cautious, I dismounted and walked the bike across.  When I got to the other side, a Welcome sign greeted me.

 I stopped in the town library to use the facilities, the air conditioning, and the internet.  I checked for an Italian restaurant in Milan.  Jim's Pizza Box has salads, sandwiches, of course pasta and pizza.  I'll go there!   Milan has a beautiful town square.  

While I was still at the library, I spoke to a fellow library patron briefly.  I had some concerns about riding down US 250, the highway I crossed earlier, but it is the only place to cross the river to get to my campground.  He said that probably the state police don't like people riding on it, but that he does, and there is a broad shoulder.    He was quite talkative, seeing my kit, and said I must be a "serious" cyclist.  I laughed, because didn't I just write about that!   and I finally had to tell him that I wanted to use the computer instead of chatting.   

I did, in fact ride up highway 250 to get to my campground. It had a broad shoulder, so it was not bad most of the way.  I had to cross both entrance and exit ramps for the Ohio Turnpike to get there.  My heart was in my throat, but I did it.

I arrived at the campground, found the primitive camping area, and set up my tent.

My campsite was under a buckeye tree.  Birds were chirping, and it was serene, if you didn't count the dull roar of the turnpike less than a mile away.   I learned, later that night, that there was a railroad going through the next field.  I unrolled my Thermarest sleeping pad so it would have time to expand, then I called Ed.

He said my new sleeping bag had arrived.

Oh well.  I showered at the camp bathhouse, and regretted not bringing my swimsuit to take advantage of the pool.

It was getting close to dark.  I found that my sleeping pad had NOT fully expanded, and I remembered the warning on the label to store it in an inflated state, which I had not done.   It took me an hour to realize that I could probably blow it up.   It only took about ten deep breaths to do it, adding to my comfort immensely.

There were a few other bikepackers there, and a few families with multiple cars, children, and pets. 

 

Grand Tour -Milan, Ohio scouting trip

 I asked my husband to drop me off in Milan, Ohio, as he drove north on another errand.  My general plan was to get the "lay of the land" and see how easy or difficult the trip I have planned in a few weeks will turn out to be.  

It was a foggy morning at home.   He said the weather report had forecasted "freezing fog".  I took my plants out to the deck and packed a lunch and filled a couple of water bottles.

When the sun rose above the horizon, it proved to be a beautiful drive up route 13 to 250, and from there to Milan-Greenwich road.  The green grass glowed in early morning sunlight as we passed farm fields and greenhouses. He pointed out that there was light traffic on that road.  I pointed out that there was no shoulder on the road to speak of.

He dropped me off in Milan on the village square, a grassy park with lots of benches and tables and relatively few statues.  The statues that existed were of Thomas Edison. 

 After taking a few minutes to get my bearings, I rode off to where I expected the Towpath park to be, but instead saw a street sign that said "No outlet".  I circled around the next block and drove by Edison's birthplace.  Again, street signs saying "no trespassing" and " no outlet" among the various historical markers.  I took a selfie with a bronze statue of Thomas Edison, but I didn't dare to sit on the bench with him.

I rode back to the village square, passing several galleries and gift shops.  I stopped in the "Coffee Station" shop at the south end of the square.  The friendly person at the counter pointed me to the restroom.   Then I bought a huge banana muffin.   I intended to save it for later in the day.  I asked her about the towpath park.  she was confused for a minute, then dawning understanding showed in her expression.  "You mean the Greenway!". Yes, I suppose so.   She pointed it out to me, telling me to proceed north, downhill, past the "no outlet"  sign and turn right at the bottom.

The Greenway is an apt name for this trail.  It has a gravel surface, but the grass and the wild plantain is growing through the gravel,

and lending a green cast to the trail surface.  The dew was still on the grass, and my road bike tires were soon wet and covered with dandelion fluff.   It was hard work pushing my smooth road bike tires through the rough surface, so when I stopped to catch my breath I started in on the muffin.  Oh my goodness!  It was heavenly.  Like banana cake.  I haven't had anything so sweet in a long time.   I have no idea how many points it will cost me on WW but I can only hope my fitness points from the bike ride will compensate.

I only met one couple walking their dog on the trail.   I heard several loud splashes as I reached the end of the trail.  I must have disturbed a predator's fishing. I looked for a heron, but didn't see one.  I heard geese honking and songbirds chirping.   A cardinal and a couple of blue jays crossed the trail in front of me as I huffed and puffed back the slightly uphill return.  Back to the town square, where I took advantage of the benches to make notes for this update.  The tantalizing food smells from the several restaurants around the square wafted through the air.  Invention restaurant, Jim's pizza box, Milan Wine Post, the Park Lounge, the Wonder Bar and Grille, and the Village Drive-Thru featuring Tofts hand-dipped ice cream, as well as the coffee shop I visited,  stand among the barbershops, florists, insurance company, antique stores, and banks lining the square.

I had several choices as to how to navigate to my next destination.  I wanted to ride on the North Coast Inland Trail (NCIT), but I was several miles north.  The closest place to pick it up was in Norwalk.  I rode down S. Main Street, which turned into SR 601 outside of town and then turned right onto Old State Road, also known as County Highway 52.  Main Street and the highway had a nice shoulder but a lot of truck traffic.  Old State Road was quieter, but no paved shoulder to speak of.  I was regretting my decision a mile or so down the road, as I sailed down a hill, knowing there would be an uphill on the other side.   I was right.  I had to walk my bike up one hill.  A friendly teenager in a pickup truck slowed down and rode alongside.  He asked if I wanted him to push me up with his truck.  No thank you.  I was sure he was making fun of me.  He took off, turned around in a driveway, and went back the way he came.  

Eventually I arrived in Norwalk.  I noticed a sidewalk along the road, but it was narrow and evidently not intended as a bike path, so I stayed on the road.  Google Maps wanted me to turn on State Route 18, but I knew the North Coast Inland trail was not far away, so I kept going until I reached Townsend Road, which was marked with "Share the road" signs.  I turned left and soon found myself on SR 18, known as Gibbs Road. When I reached the end of Gibbs Road, I found the "end" of the NCIT. 

The trail surface was fine, packed gravel.  Better than the trail I was on earlier that was mostly grass, but still not as nice as riding on smooth pavement.  While I was standing there taking pictures, a pickup truck slowed down and the driver told me I could take the "new trail extension" that ran parallel to Gibbs Rd, the way I had just come from.  It was marked as "Not open to public".  The surface was pretty bumpy as it was larger gravel, probably laid as a base for the eventual smoother trail surface.  It is nice to know that the Firelands Rails to Trails group continues to work on these trails.  I explained to him that I was going the other way.  He drove off, and another older gentleman on a bicycle cycled up.  His bike had fat, knobby tires.  He also wanted to let me know that I could get through on the new trail extension.  I chatted with him for a few minutes and explained what I was doing, scouting the roads and trails for Adventure Travel Weekend when I hoped to ride my "Grand Tour" of Ohio cities named after cities in Italy.  He said he rides 30 or 40 miles a day to get him out of the house, his wife chases him out! I told him I was curious about the bicycle shop "Rebs Bike Barn" a few hundred feet up the road.  He explained that it was a motorcyle/motorsports dealer, but that the owner can't understand why he gets so many people looking for bicycles!  (Google says it is a bicycle shop!)  He said the only campground in the area that he knew up was "up by the pike" by which he meant the Ohio Turnpike, Route 90.  

I bid him good day, and continued along the trail.  It was slow going.  I had trouble getting any speed, I was averaging between 6 to 8 miles per hour.  I attribute this to the soft surface of the trail gripping my skinny road bike tires.  I saw on the map that there was a "Camp Conley" in Collins, Ohio, but I didn't notice it while I was riding by.  I did see a sign directing horse trailers to park on a parallel road a block away.  This part of the trail is open to horses.  While I didn't see any on my ride, I did see evidence of their having passed by recently. 

After a few miles I came to DeRussey Road where the marked trail detoured on to the road.  I saw another cyclist go by, fairly fast.  A little later I came to where he was stopped by the side of the road, downing an energy gel packet.  I stopped and chatted with him a few minutes.  He was an older gentleman. He said he hoped to get 80 miles in today, going back to Oberlin, but he wasn't sure.  He thought he might make it as far as Kipton.  He asked how far I usually ride and I told him "30-40 miles, or maybe 10" and that I was on a scouting trip to see how many miles in the area I could comfortably ride in a day.  He was a much faster rider than I, so I continued on.  He soon passed me by.  

I continued into Wakeman, passing this derelict old house.  The barn behind it had livestock, so I assume someone is farming the property and just did not care for the house.  

The trail turned off Hyde Street onto Railroad Street, but I continued on Route 20 hoping to eat lunch at Sterk's restaurant.    I had actually carried along a couple of homemade energy bars and some fruit and a boiled egg, but I wanted to get off the bike, sit down, and relax for a while. I passed by this ancient stone marking the county line.

 I was too late, as they closed at 2:00 pm, and I arrived at 1:58.   I continued into town and found this place, the Historic Route 20 Pub and Grub.  

The menu was fairly limited to hamburgers, fried side dishes and grilled chicken sandwhiches,  not great for a Weight Watcher.   I ordered the Caesar salad with a chicken breast and  was pleased to have it cooked to perfection, moist and tasty.   

I checked in with Ed and he said they were making progress on his project but that it would be at least three and a half hours before he arrived to pick me up.  No problem, I had planned to get much farther than I currently was, and it would give me an opportunity for more miles.  

I wanted to go to Florence, Ohio to check it out for the Grand Tour.  It was 5 miles directly north of Wakeman on the Florence Wakeman Road.  I remembered my friend Ruth, who says "Anyone can go 5 miles," and starting packing up my helmet and paid my bill.  

When I went outside, the weather had changed.  It had clouded up more, and the wind was damp and chill.  It was still in the 50's.  I was wearing a long-sleeved jersey and still wearing my "bolero," a pair of sleeves attached across the back.  I put my pile-lined hoody back on and started off.  After a mile I realized it was cold and the wind was penetrating my hoody, so I stopped and took off my helmet, and pulled my hood up.  Replacing my helmet required me to adjust the strap to make it a little bigger.  I also pulled out my windbreaker and zipped the sleeves on, realizing that I must have left the hood for the windbreaker at home.  Oh well.  The windbreaker/raincoat made a big difference in my comfort. I continued on, past a house that proclaimed the occupant as a Trump loyalist by all the signs in the front yard and the graffiti scribbled with spray paint on the road.  Next up was a pasture with a lot of cattle.  One red youngster had its head and shoulders under the bottom strand of wire as if he were trying to escape, but when I came by with my yellow raincoat flapping in the breeze, he pulled himself back in and re-joined his herd. 

I finally reached Florence.  There wasn't much to see in downtown Florence.  An empty lot on one corner, a deteriorating Victorian house on another corner, a house that looked like it might have once been a florist shop on the third corner, but now had a pile of scrap metal and a rusty propane-driven fork truck along the side yard.  

As I paused to take pictures, a couple of people stopped at the intersection to talk to me.  One guy yelled "You're in Florence!" and, as I pulled my bike further off the road, another older gentleman in a car rolled down his window and said "I wouldn't hit you, I ride 30 miles a day" I thought he said he almost hit me, so I asked him why he would hit me if he rides? He said, no, he wouldn't hit me, and he rides an eBike.  He explained that he still gets exercise because he still has to pedal, it just helps him climb hills.  Traffic was building up behind him, so he drove on.   I turned around and took a photo of my bike leaning against the township border marker on my way back. 

Returning once again to Wakeman, I followed the marked trail behind the park through town and proceeded to the other side where the trail once again was packed stone. 

The park features a millstone from a historic grain mill. 

 A few yards beyond the park was a breathtaking bridge over the Vermillion river.  The bike trail runs over the Bruce L. Chapman bridge, formerly a railroad bridge, and there are beautiful views of the US. 20 bridge that runs parallel to it. 

I snagged a screen shot from Google to get a photo of the bridge that I was on in order to confirm that it matched the photo of the bridge in the link above.  

I was able to take my own photo of the US 20 bridge. There is a dam just beyond the bridge. 

Soon after the bridge, the path put me onto North River Street for a few feet, then crossing the road through a park.  I noticed an art welding studio up the road.  

A nice station for outdoor workouts and a large lake were in the park.  The surface of the trail was smooth concrete.  I felt like I was flying after the rough surface from before. 

 The trail runs along Route 20 for several miles, up to the county border, where you turn left on County Line Road, then right onto a trail surface running along the old railroad line again. The trail is paved all the way to the village of Kipton.  I stopped there.  Rain was threatening, and there was a picnic shelter in the park.  Ed had called and said he was 45 minutes away a few miles back.  I was weighing whether I should go another five miles to Oberlin and risk getting soaked if it started to rain, or just wait where I was. 

I parked myself and my bike. I noted the historic marker detailing the Great Kipton Train Wreck, which was caused by a watch being four minutes off.  Interesting story on the Smithsonian web site at the link.  I watched the demolition of the grain elevator. 

I love the attached  "rain cover" in my Po Campo pannier.  It can't get lost because it is sewn into a pocket. 

Ed arrived and after loading my bike, we took off for Oberlin, where we had dinner at the "Brickyard".  Unbeknownst to me, the Brickyard is owned by the Sterk family.  I am guessing that it is the same family that owns the Sterk Family Restaurant in Wakeman, so I didn't miss having dinner with the Sterks after all! 

In retrospect, I would avoid the Canal Towpath trail, and the gravel part of the North Coast Inland Trail East of Wakeman. I would just head to Florence directly from Milan.  The route is a highway with narrow shoulders, so perhaps find country roads that parallel Ohio 113, "The Edison Highway."  Or just ride it to see how busy it will be. Then head south to Wakeman to take advantage of that smooth trail to the east.