Beavercreek to Vandalia

 When they say "Life is a beautiful ride", in the future I will remember this ride.  There was a bike trail almost all the way from Beavercreek to my destination north of Vandalia.  Actually several bike trails.  And a lot of bridges!  The first bridge was a footpath across a little creak separating two cul-de-sacs in a residential neighborhood.  I was surprised that Google Maps even knew about it. It was in Merrick Park. 

The City of Beavercreek has been designated "Bicycle-Friendly" by the League of American Bicyclists.  I found it to be true.  I was able to reach my destinations by either a bike trail or a designated lane or a bicycle-friendly street.  Drivers were courteous, as were the restaurants and their patrons.  I would definitely go back again.  

There is a fantastic station along the bike trail, near the Beavercreek 9/11 memorial. 

I filled up my tires using the pump provided at the station.  The back tire was definitely low.  I was glad I stopped to use it. 

The station is modern, but appears to have architecture designed like an old train station. Nice restrooms and vending machines for Pepsi products and water.  

As I rode along, it began to sprinkle.  It was warm, and the very light rain was refreshing.  I noticed that a church along the designated "Creekside Trail" provided a little food pantry. 

There was also a gazebo, and another bike tool station. 

As I rode along, I came to the Mad River Trail.  There may have been another trail in between the two.  

These two signs were in close proximity.  The Mad River Trail and Creekside trails are both part of designated Bicycle Route #2.  

I had come along this type of trail marker two years ago when pedaling the Ohio to Erie Trail.  That was Trail #1. 

Picturesque stone bridge in Mad River Metropark. 

Beautiful views of the river as I rode along.  The surface was quite still, although I am sure the water was moving quite fast.

The trail ran along the river for several miles.  I was entranced by the pink flower, it may be a variety of vetch, but I didn't take the time to identify it.  The tall purple thistles just beyond, not sure if they were Scotch Thistles or Bull Thistles, looked like the flowers from a Dr. Suess book.  

After  riding up a switchback to climb up a hill and crossing over the river on a scary (to me) bridge, I saw this couple dancing in the park.  What a beautiful sight!   

Had to cross another bridge.  There are a lot of bridges in Dayton! 

 

Most of the Great Miami River trail was downhill, and after the sun came out I really appreciated that most of the trails were also shady, running through cool patches of woods.  And for some of the time, the wind was at my back.  I was sailing along without a care in the world. I rode only a section of this 89-mile long trail that runs from Hamilton, Ohio to Piqua.

Near this point I was riding through the historic village of Tadmor.  The Taylorsville Metropark website states "The land where Taylorsville MetroPark now sits was once the site of the bustling town of Tadmor, one of the most important centers of transportation in early Ohio history. With all four means of transportation of the day within yards of each other, Tadmor was truly the crossroads of America."

I didn't stop, as I wanted to meet my hostess at her shop Fiber and Fusion Studio between 3:30 and 4:00. When I left the Metropark to turn off on Old Springfield Road, I found that it was a heavily traveled road with no shoulder whatsoever.  And it was a lot of up and down hills.  And I was riding directly into the wind. 

Most of the cars were polite, waiting to pass me until they could see beyond the crest of the hill.  I was sweating it, climbing up the hills.  At a few points I had to get off and walk.  One red sports car blared his horn at me.  Ok, Ohio law says you are supposed to give an audible signal when passing.  Most people don't.  I'm glad, because whenever a car beeps behind me, it gives me a start.  When trying to ride uphill with a heavy pannier, a start makes me wobble a little.  But this guy in the sports car BLARED his horn at me and yelled something out the window.  I had about five miles to go to get to the yarn studio.  I called my husband and told him to come and get me, I was done.  He said he'd be there in two hours. 

I continued on to the yarn shop. I crossed over I-75.  At the end of Old Springfield Road, I turned on North Dixie Drive.  I saw the fiber arts studio on the left, so instead of crossing the road and then crossing again, I cut through the parking lot of the business on the corner and rode my bike through the grass in the front of her studio.   I had a great interview and visit to the yarn shop.  When I was about to leave, however, the light sprinkle of rain had turned into a windy thunderstorm!  My hostess insisted that I wait for Ed to come and pick me up.   While I was waiting, I got a text from the KOA campground that they had no electricity, no phones, and no water due to the storm.  So, since I was going to be camping in a tent,  I asked them to cancel my reservation, and they did!   Yay! 

So, today I am taking a rest day at home.  It is supposed to rain all day off and on.  I have to figure out how to continue my "Yarn Trek"

Xenia to Beavercreek

 I had a great stay at the Ramada Inn in dowtown Xenia.  They let me bring my bike up to my room.  Evidently there were a lot of cyclists in the hotel for the weekend.  Xenia is a hub of several trails coming together, so it's probably not unusual for the hotel to accommodate them.  After camping the night before, a hot shower and a comfy bed were blessings.

They even had a bowl of bananas on the front desk as I checked out, and the young man offered me one, along with a brown bag breakfast.  I guess that is the COVID adaptation.  I took out the granola bar, and gave him back the juice and the vending-machine-style sticky bun.  I am trying to avoid sugar.  The gentleman at the front desk offered me yogurt! Yay!  

I had been hungry when I was going to bed, and I was still hungry.  I noticed there was a Frisch's Big Boy restaurant just down the street.  I stopped in.  I ended up buying the buffet as there was no combination of menu items that met my specific dietary preferences! Eggs and salad.  A group of three cyclists came in while I was eating and sat at the next table.  We chatted, they had seen my loaded bike and were curious as to where I was going.  When I told them the next stop was Beavercreek, as we were all leaving about the same time, they pointed out the shortcut to the trail.  They had come up from Beavercreek for breakfast, were turning around and heading back.  They mentioned that it was all downhill!  

 

They sped ahead of me and I plodded on to Beavercreek.  They didn't lie about the trail being downhill all the way.  It was a very slight slope.  I passed a drag strip where a race was in progress.  The voice of the announcer boomed out all the way to the trail. 

It was shady and very pleasant ride.  Until I got to Beavercreek!  I noted the Ritter frozen custard stand.  It seemed a fairly upscale place with its blue and white umbrellas.  If I could eat ice cream I would have crossed the highway and stopped in.  I am sure they are not related to my Ritter branch of the family. 

 Then there were some small rolling hills.  I took the Creekside Trail for a way. I ate lunch at the Cherry House Cafe which was a charming locally-owned restaurant that had great salads made from greens, not just iceberg lettuce.  I added a grilled chicken breast to my order. It was delicious. 

My host for the day was Julie Esterlin, and her shop was only a few miles away from the restaurant.  

See my knitting blog for details of the visit. 

It was an easy, short ride today.  Sunday is a day of rest.  My B and B is only a few miles from Julie's shop.  

Sunday in Xenia

 Yesterday's ride from London to Xenia, a short ride of about 30 miles, got off to a late start due to my chat at the campsite while waiting for my clothes to dry.  

I wanted to say again how impressed I am with the trail volunteer organization in Madison County.  I don't know who mows the weeds along the trail, but I also noticed that the poison hemlock was not as close to the trail as in most of the other trails I have ridden.   Maybe the volunteers?  The unofficial "trail angel", Rob, who pointed out the campsite features to me was also a blessing.  Dave, the official volunteer that I met in the morning, told me that Rob frequently welcomes visitors, but doesn't stay at the campsite himself.  He actually camps right along the trail in one of the Eagle-Scout shelters.  Rob was curious about my outfit, my tent was already up and he gave me his opinion that I could get by with a much smaller and lighter tent.  He's probably right, but those one-man (or one-wonan, as the case may be) tent might be claustrophobic.  He was curious about my brand of panniers, which I didn't remember but subsequently checked, the are "Roswheel" brand.  His panniers looked to be at least twenty years old, and well used.  He was quite thin as many avid cyclists are.

For this trip, I packed quite light, for me.  One extra jersey and shorts, one t-shirt dress for evenings, and a pair of knit shorts and a T-shirt for sleeping.  5 pairs of socks.  A few pieces of undergarments, and a pair of Birkenstocks.  A washcloth, face towel, and toiletries bag.  That's about all, other than my tent, down sleeping bag, Thermarest mattress, and backup batteries banks and charging cables.

Yesterday's right was in three segments.  From London to South Charleston, from South Charleston to Cedarville, and then from Cedarville to Xenia.  

The morning trip from London to South Charleston was uneventful.  I ate a late lunch at a charming cafe a few hundred yards off the trail, arriving about 1pm and leaving around 2.   The afternoon trip from South Charleston to Cedarville was kind of brutal.  I noticed a sign saying the trail was closed daytimes from M-F, I assume because of construction.  I thanked my lucky stars it was Saturday.   The trail was newly laid black asphalt, and the hot sun beat down and reflected heat up. 

There was not much variation in the scenery, just miles of telephone/power poles on the right stretching off to the infinity point.  Very little shade at that time of day. No hills, just flat trail.  With a heat mirage at the end reflecting the trail up into the sky.

At Cedarville, I stopped in at the library, which was about to close at 5:00 pm, giving me 20 minutes or so to find a place to stay in Xenia.  I made a reservation at an AirBnB. A fellow trail user stopped and asked where I was headed, and I gave him the brief summary of my trip.  He agreed that you have to be in the right frame of mind to ride that section of the trail.

I was glad to finally arrive in Xenia.   But I could not find the address.  The address given for my trip was the central Xenia Station, a park where multiple trails come together.  On the AirBnB web site, the GPS location for the room sent me to a vacant lot, with a camper and a pickup parked in it.

  I tried to contact the host, but could not get through.  

After grabbing a delicious Mediterranean chicken dinner at a food truck in a bar parking lot, with a live band, I still had not heard from my host.

So, I stayed at the Ramada Inn, just off the downtown.  I will straighten the money mess out later.  

Next stop is Beavercreek, Ohio, where I will visit a machine knitting shop.

I've stayed in London

 My camping spot for the night was the London primitive trailside camp.   It is next to the senior center, and although it's labelled "primitive", ift has 24-hour video surveillance, Wi-Fi, restrooms with warm water and flush toilets with electronic keycode after 9:00 pm.

I put up my tent.  An older man, with panniers on his bike, stopped by the picnic shelter and mentioned all the rules and pointed out the features.  He said he stops by a few times a week.

It seems the people of London and Madison County take the Biblical injunction to show hospitality very literally.

I rinsed out my shorts and jerseys, and spread them over my bike to dry.  

This morning, a trail volunteer stopped by and introduced himself as Dave. He produced a clothesline from the trunk of his car so my clothes would dry faster.  He asked about my trip. Later, he came back with his wife to make sure I knew about the knitting shop in town.  I told him that was why I was here!  It was so kind and thoughtful of him!

While I was waiting for my clothes to dry, I took up a conversation with a cyclist who was waiting for the rest of his group, the Columbus Black Star Cyclists.  He was doing a shorter ride than the rest because he was recovering from an injury a few years ago.  While riding downhill fast, he slipped in a wet spot and his bike went down, breaking his arm and three ribs, also injuring his hand and scraping up his leg.  He's now riding an eBike while he recovers, and it is working well for him. He said the battery will last about four hours on the lowest setting.  We discussed the way time seems to stand still while an accident is in process, also how some people seem to be crazy!    He hoped I was carrying a gun for safety reasons on this trip.  He is a DJ with a local radio station.  

The jerseys were finally dry, or almost.  I packed up all my things, got dressed, filled my water bottles, ate a cookie, and finally set off on the way towards Beaver Creek, my next knitting destination.

Columbus to London

 A new day dawned, and it was perfect for a bike ride.  Temperatures were in the seventies and the humidity was low.  The sky was clear.   

After eating a light breakfast in the hostel, I stepped outside and found a penny on the ground.  I picked it up and put it in my pocket.  A good omen.  I loaded up my bike and set off.   

I had only gone a few blocks when I came to High Street where there was a stand of Lyft bikes.  Across the way was a little restaurant advertising all-day breakfast, so I went in. The waitress, who appeared to be of Iranian or maybe Lebanese background, made sure I had a credit card because they are not accepting cash, I assume due to Covid concerns.  She put on a mask before taking my order for two eggs.   

While I ate my eggs, she asked me about my bike and which way I was going.   I told her, and she pointed out that the broken line on the map indicated that there were a series of steps to get to the Olentangy trail, and I would be better off going south on Neil Avenue and then crossing over on Patterson.  

I paid for my food and followed her advice.

A few more blocks down, the trail was closed due to construction, but the detour was clearly marked.  Finally I arrived back to the Olentangy trail, where I could at times see the river and other times it was blocked by concrete walls.  A pair of goldfinches followed along the trail with me for about a mile, dipping and rising and flashing their golden wings.  Another good omen.

Eventually I arrived at Confluence park, where the Scioto and the Olentangy rivers merge together.  I had to ride across a bridge or two.   This is getting easier for me as I do it more frequently.  It used to terrify me for no logical reason.

I continued on the Scioto trail and finally to the Camp Chase Trail, where I noticed the murals.  

I crossed another bridge and stopped to take a selfie.

I rode to the end of the Camp Chase Trail, and somewhere along the way, the trail name changed, although it is still part of US Bicycle Route 50 and the Ohio to Erie Trail.  I had forgotten how confusing the trail was around Big Darby Creek, and I, along with another trail user, suddenly came to a gravel section that led to the end of the trail.  

We had no choice but to go back.  I told him to go ahead, as I walked my bike back up the hill on the gravel path due to the heavy panniers.  He had a lighter bike and no panniers so he could move much faster.  I finally plotted an alternate route that involved riding on the road and going through a roundabout.  This road led right past the Oak Ridge Tavern.  I stopped in for lunch. It went something like this, only reversed.

I waited a while for service and was debating if I should leave.  I had a pretty good cod sandwich, after the bartender finally informed me that she was not a waitress and if I wanted to order, I needed to come up to the bar.

Got back on my bike on the trail after lunch and pedaled a few more miles.  The day continued to be perfect, and there was shade on this part of the trail.  When I was 8 miles from London, I called the yarn shop to warn them I would be arriving in about an hour, more or less.  

My phone battery was down to 1%.  I am carrying battery banks.

I stopped and rooted around in my handlebar bag, but did not find the correct charging cable for my phone, so that would mean opening up the panniers.  I didn't want to be late, since the knit store closes at 5:00 pm.  So I just prayed the battery would last to give me directions until I arrived at my destination. 

You can find details for my visit at Yesterday's Ewes here. 

A European-style hostel in the Heart of Ohio

Yesterday was an easy biking day.  I sailed through Bexley, onto the 670 bike path, which runs along I-670, and from there into the OSU campus area, quiet neighborhood streets. 

I passed a craft brewery, which was newly opened, but it was still morning, and not open yet.  The floral arrangements were spectacular, and I had to stop and take a photo. 

 I was impressed by the divided bike lanes along US 23, although I was confused at one point when the bike lane going north was on the left side of the street, between the bike lane and the vehicle traffic going South.  But I was able to cross over at an intersection and get into the flow.

I arrived at my destination before check-in time, so I rode over to the Short North Area to find lunch at a poke bowl shop.   Then I found the Dandy bike shop, where I purchased two CO2 cartridges and the owner, 87 years old, added air to my tires.  The back one was fairly low, which I guess is not too surprising with all the extra weight.   I biked through a few tree-lined neighborhoods and I observed a lot of college-age people riding bikes, scooters, and walking.   The definition of a livable neighborhood.

I returned to the hostel and unloaded my bike, carrying my packs up the narrow stairs to my room.   I plugged in my phone to recharge, and proceeded downstairs to the common area.  There was a young man there who offered to help me to use the computer, which we never did get to start up.   It may have just been an input-output station with keyboard and monitor. He offered to change the default language on his phone so I could use it. He was a Czech.  But we talked a little about travelling in a country where you aren't perfectly fluent in the language.   I remembered my experience as a foreign exchange student in Spain almost fifty years ago. He was not a student, but had been working with a friend who operates heavy equipment in the Mansfield area (coincidence!) while he was touring the USA.

He had a dilemma, he had some problem with his credit card, and needed to get to a WalMart today to get it fixed.  He noted that he had chosen the hostel because they advertised rental bikes, only to learn on his arrival that the program was discontinued due to Covid.  There are Lyft bikes, but he noted that they are too expensive.  It was too far to walk to WalMart, and the bus schedule apparently did not meet his needs.  Trains are non-existent here, compared to in Europe.  I could not take him to WalMart on my bike.  I pointed out to him that perhaps a local bike shop would rent him a bike, as there are two within walking distance.  I also advised him to get in touch with the hostel operator, as they may have access to local resources, and sincerely wished him the best of luck.

So out of curiosity, this morning, I checked on how to use the Lyft bike program under CoGo (Columbus Go?). I had seen Lyft bike stations and Lime scooter stations about every two blocks in this area.   

The first thing that happened when I went on the web site is it wanted to install an app on my phone.   Nope.  It also seemed that you must start by registering with an $85 deposit.

Unfortunate if your credit card isn't working. 

Last night I rode again the few blocks over to the Short North, and got a hamburger at a brewpub.  I elected not to drink any beer, but maybe some time I will return to sample it.   After dinner I returned to my room and elected to rest in my room, rather than socialize in the common area.  There were apparently quite a few guests in the hostel and there was a lot going on.  

This morning I met the hostel operator, Robbie, and I asked him to check in on my Czech friend.  He said he would, and he showed me how to get the Internet thin client going.  

Rest Day

 Another 80-degree day followed by forecasted thunderstorms.  I my bike for a ride today (on the back of my car) to three sites in Columbus.   

 I am not sleeping in a tent in the thunderstorm tonight, I am staying with my sister in Columbus. 

Mt. Gilead to Marion

I camped overnight at the Mt. Gilead State Park on the west side of Mt. Gilead. It was a great campground for my purposes.  I camped near the entrance.  I set up my tent, shown here minus the rain fly, in the late afternoon heat.  A fellow camper, who turned out to be from Lexington, helped me move the picnic table into the shade.  I found the shower house and got cleaned up to relax, and wrote a bit of the blog posts. 

 

In the morning, I rode into Mt. Gilead and ate breakfast at a coffee shop called Sames and Cook.  It was very homey, with crocheted napkin holders on the 1950's style kitchen table, and a small vignette in the window with armchair seating conversation area. 

This is a fantastic place for a leisurely breakfast and I was able to use their wifi to upload some photos. I ordered off-menu, my usual breakfast of plain oatmeal, lettuce and salad vegetables, and two eggs over easy and coffee with a shot of expresso and almond milk.   

The roads were better today.  No gravel.  Hard surface.  Flat.  I thought I would make good time.

But before I even got out of town, one of my straps from the pannier came loose and got tangled up in the chain and I had to stop and get it out.  The chain was thrown and I had to open up my toolbox to find something to pry the links out between the chain ring and the frame.   Eventually I got it back on and proceeded through Edison and on towards Marion. 

It was 90 degrees by afternoon and I was riding right into a headwind.  The wind is sometimes called "the invisible hill".  I started singing to myself "Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain!"  I made better time than the day before, but every time I hit a patch of shade, which was not often,  I stopped to rest and take a drink.  So my overall time was still very poor.   I expected to arrive by 11:00, having looked at the map which indicated a slight downhill slope all the way.  I did not arrive at Stitch and Skein in Marion until 2:30. 

After my visit at the yarn store, I crossed the street to Amato's Wood Fired Pizza.  I order a shrimp salad and garic bread, which was fantastic.  The people were great, they let me roll my bike inside next to my table and made sure my water bottle was filled before I left.  I called my husband and asked him to come and take me to the campground 40 miles away, as I knew I did not have it in me to ride another 40 miles before dark.  After looking at the weather forecast, though, I made a different decision.  I decided to come home for the night and take my car to Columbus tomorrow.  Then I can visit several of the spots I wanted to in air-conditioned comfort of my car while the heat and humidity build up to a forecasted thunderstorm.  I'll park my car at my sister's in Columbus and start again tomorrow when the weather is supposed to be better. 

There is a balm in Mount Gilead?

 Mt. Gilead, that is!  Today I had no more excuses.  I put my U lock and my charging cables in the panniers, and, voila! Everything else was already packed.  Oh wait, except my shoes.  Where did I leave my phone?   Let me take a bottle of sour cherry supplements to reduce inflammation.  Can I think of anything else?

I told Ed about the issues I had adjusting the seat.  I could move it up or down in front or back, or raise the whole seat, but I couldn't figure out how to move it forward or backward.  And move it backward is what I needed to do.   He observed that the rails were "stuck", probably because it had been so long since they had been adjusted.  And just like that, he fixed it.

Time to leave.  I had him take me to the top of a hill just south of the alpaca farm I visited yesterday.  Looking at my route and elevations, it seemed like that would be a good place to start going downhill.  I told him not to leave until I got to the treeline about a quarter mile ahead, in case I had trouble.  Not gonna lie, I had trouble getting on the bike over the panniers and sleeping bag on the back.  But I did it on the third attempt.  I made it to the trees with no issues, so he headed for home.   The weather was perfect.  Clear and cloudless blue sky with little humidity, sunny and warm. I was heading for My. Gilead, in Morrow County, Ohio.

I rode a couple of miles, only to find that my planned route turned into a gravel road.  I didn't count on that, since I thought that Ride with GPS software had told me that my route was 100% paved.  Yeah, right.  Paved with loose gravel.

I kept going.  What else could I do? I walked my bike through some sections and rode through others.  I was starting to get discouraged when MapMyRide reported my speed for the last mile at about two miles an hour. My mind can't help doing the math.  I might arrive before dark, at this rate. 

 At one point, I hit a pothole with a hole in the bottom of it while riding downhill, and I thanked Joy Machines in Cleveland for suggesting the Vittoria Randonneur tires they put on my bike after a two-flat day on my tour last year.  I somehow avoided having a pinch flat, which would have been a disaster.  Even when I got to a paved road, the wind was blowing and there was a headwind.

  At 11:00, I called my host for the day, Roger Cox, and reported that I would be at least an hour and maybe longer. 

The roads were quite hilly, more than I expected.  My general impression is that in Ohio, all the hills are east and south of I-71, and Roger's farm is several dozen miles west of that.  I was pleased that I was able to ride up many of them using my lowest "granny gear".   This Trek 520 has a triple chainring in front, as it is designed for touring.  Good thing, because as I listened to the turn-by-turn navigation from RidewithGPS, I rode right by their farm. I feel kind of silly about, because in the news article where I learned about the Coxes, it said his was one of the prettiest farms in the county.  As I rode past, I noticed the neatly manicured lawn, the flowers blooming in the flowerbeds, and the flag flying at half mast, the fresh white siding on the house and the bright red of the metal-sided barn.  I was impressed with how neatly the farm was kept.   I had originally created the route to go to a nearby campground, but later changed my mind and neglected to update the route.   I realized my mistake and turned around, climbing several more hills in the process than I needed to. 

For details of my visit to the Cox Plainview Farm, see my Bright Meadow Farms blog, where I discuss information about the Katahdin sheep breed and the Roger Cox family, named Charles Boyles Master Shepherd of the Year by the Ohio Sheep Improvement Association

Yarn Trek by bike kickoff

236.  That's what the scale said this morning.  I'm up six pounds this month, and ten from last month.  With all the stuff I have loaded in my panniers for this trip, I am absolutely sure that my Trek Silque carbon-fiber bike will not bear the weight of me and my stuff. 

So I got out the old, dependable Trek 520.  I haven't ridden it for some time, since my last bike-packing trip.  I loaded up the panniers and made a list of everything I need to take for two weeks on the road.  My stuff is scattered between the barn, the garage, my closet, and my office.  So  I started gathering it together.  

I'm having an internal struggle. Actually several of them. 

 I want to start this trip.  I really do.  But I also wanted to plant the six or seven flats of vegetables and flowers that I started from seed back in February.  It has been so wet that the garden had not yet been tilled as of last week.  So, we invited the grandsons over last week and they did the initial tilling of the garden and helped me pin down some of the landscape fabric. Ed helped me plant vegetables yesterday and I planted flowers this morning.  You can read more of my gardening adventures over at Bright Meadow Farms blog.  

I am also not sure about riding the Trek 520.  It's a heavier bike, and it is a "touring" bike.  The geometry is different than the Silque, and the brakes are more forward.  The top tube is longer, so it is a longer reach.  The shifters are on the bar ends, and while they are dependable, it is slightly more effort to reach for the shifters instead of just tapping the button on the electronic shifters on the Silque.  With the additional weight of myself and the panniers, it will be harder to handle. 

I am not in great physical condition this spring.  I've taken several rides, about 5, with my group of women that ride the bike trail on Tuesdays.  But spring was late, and we didn't get much riding in before the end of April.  The longest ride I've taken so far this year was about 25 miles. On top of that, my right knee has been really getting worse.  The orthopaedic surgeon in Detroit diagnosed it as "bone on bone" over 4 years ago.  Since having my left knee replaced, and still having pain, I've been putting off the right knee replacement.  I have a new doctor in Ohio, and he concurred that replacement would help.  I don't want to do that until the bicycle season is over, since I know I won't be even walking without help for several weeks. I have noticed that wearing my bicycle shoes and walking uphill causes a lot of pain this year.  Consequently, I have re-planned and shortened my daily routes, and limited most day's visits to yarn shops or fiber farms to one per day.  I've only planned the first 5 days, and have made my reservations.   I want to see how my body is holding up after the punishment.  If I need to take a rest day, I don't want to have to shift all the rest of the reservations.  Or maybe I will be feeling better after a few days on the road and can lengthen the days. 

So yesterday, according to my original plan, I was supposed to visit Alpaca Meadows in Ontario, Ohio.  I had taken a crochet class there a few months back. But I learned that Julie Petty, the owner, was at the Fiber Show in Wooster Ohio this weekend.  So I was happy to postpone my visit to her farm to the end of my trip.   That gave me another day for planting flowers.  That meant I was not camping last night, and didn't need to start from her farm.  So I decided to start from the bike trail near today's destination and see how the bike handled.   It was a beautiful day for riding, the sun was shining and there was only a light breeze.  The high temperature was approaching the 80's.  

Oh boy.  It did not handle well at all.  It seemed like the seat was too low.  It seemed like the both knees were feeling sore and stretched with each revolution of the pedals.  Then I realized I forgot to transfer my tool pack from my Silque to the 520.   I had no way to adjust the seat height.    So, I made a decision to turn around and go back to my car after only a few miles.  I then DROVE to the Shady Lane Alpaca Farm in Lexington, with my bike on the back of my car.  This farm is only a mile or two from the house where my husband and I lived before we moved to Michigan. 

Jean McClintock welcomed me to her farm.  First we visited the barn.  There were about 12 alpacas in all.  Jean has a few rescued alpacas, as well as Finn sheep, a llama, and an emu. And three dogs.  All the livestock,  except the emu, had recently been shorn.  You could still see the marks of the clippers on their coats.  

Jean described the process of shearing to me.  The alpacas are hobbled, and the first shearer removes the "blanket" of high-quality, soft wool from the main body.  Then the second shearer does the neck, tail, legs, and belly.  This lower-quality wool is called "seconds" and brings a lower price.  

The seconds can be used for needle felting, rug-making, or even for compost in the garden. 

In the backgrond is Emma the emu.  We moved into the barn to get better lighting for pictures. 

Emma the emu lost a feather, which ended up in the grain manger.  Jean showed me that emu feathers are always split into two.  They are the source of feathers for feather dusters. 

Jean displayed the Finn sheep wool.  Interesting fact about Finn sheep is that they have multiple lambs.  Up to 8 lambs at a time!   A separate shearer comes to the farm to shear the sheep.  The alpaca shearers are a husband-wife team.  

Next we visited the gift shop.  I will post pictures of the shop on Bright Meadow Knits blog.  I will also post upcoming events that her shop is hosting throughout 2022.  I was delighted to find out that she works with the Malabar Farm Fiber Arts Guild.  I am a member, but have not been participating much due to withdrawing within myself during the last Covid-19 wave.  She pointed out the building where her husband has a 16-inch telescope pointed at the dark sky.  He is writing a book on astronomy and will be publishing his photos.  

She gave no hint that she was disappointed that I did not ride my bike up the long hill on the "shady lane" up to their house, shop and barn.  Maybe I could do the whole bike tour by driving and just taking a short bike ride each day!