Mile 3084.4 – From Grandma to Grandma

I woke up in the morning, ready to ride, but there were a few things I needed to do first. I wanted to go down to the post office to ship home more stuff I didn’t want to continue carrying, and I could not leave my grandmother’s without eating breakfast. Whether I was hungry or not wasn’t a concern.

I took a shower and packed everything up. Once I got my panniers ready, I set them all in the living room and took only what I needed to the post office. As I was loading it all into a medium flat rate box, I got a phone call from Rick Peterson from the Lawrence Communications Office. He had heard about my transcontinental trip from the Alumni Relations Office. (On the reunion weekend reservation form, I had mentioned that I needed a place to store the bike, since I was coming across the country and didn’t have a lock with me).

I stepped out of line and he interviewed me for a good 20 minutes. He said that it was a great story, and he was going to put it in the reunion weekend newsletter. He asked if I had a picture of myself and the bike to send him, so I emailed him a picture I had of us in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. It seems like so long ago that I was standing on Baker Beach, but it hadn’t even been a month and a half.

Well, the postmaster had listened to my side of the interview (as well as the several customers that went in and out) and was suitably impressed. She asked a few more questions, then inquired if I wanted some cherries to take for my ride to Oshkosh. Sure, I love cherries.

I got back to grandma’s and a bowl, cereal and milk were all waiting at the table for me. Even though she had only a cup of coffee, the banana I had made a show of eating was not a sufficient breakfast in her mind. I quickly ate, then, wanting nothing more than to get back on the road, loaded Penny up and was shortly waving goodbye to grandma.

The rolling green hills along the road from Princeton to Oshkosh was where this cross country dream began. As a kid, I wanted to ride my bike along highway 23 into Ripon, but at 11 or 12, a 40 mile ride was simply impossible. Don’t worry, young Josh, it would only take 20 years to realize this dream. I have driven this road so many times that know which buildings are hiding past which hills. I passed the wayside only three miles out of town that runs adjacent to the farm my grandfather grew up on. The farm is still tangentially in the family, my great uncle Anton took over the farm when my great grandfather got too old for the business. Anton’s wife died so he remarried later in life, then several years ago Anton himself passed away. So the land is now under control of my great uncle’s widow, who herself is well advanced in years.

This part of the trip is just as beautiful to me as any other I’ve been through. It may seem like boring farmland interspersed with 100-acre clusters of woods, but to me the vibrancy of the green fields, the stalwart power of the towering trees and the quiet burble of the brooks and streams that crisscross the landscape is as enchanting as the mountains and far more so than the deserts and plains.

In Ripon, I caught up with the southern end of the Mascoutin Valley Trail. The trail at that end is somewhat overrun with grasses, so much so that there was a lawnmowing crew out to cut the grass back down. As I passed the crew chief, he stopped me to ask how far I was going. Oshkosh today, but I’m making my way back to Brooklyn. We talked for a few minutes and I gave my card to one of the girls on the crew. As I left he waved and welcomed me to enjoy their trail. Once it crossed the county line, the trail became wider and better kept, the crushed limestone more regular and, in fact, more even than several of the gravel roads I had ridden on in the west.

Passing more farms and fields, I eventually came to highway 21, which my other grandmother lives just off of, on the other side of Interstate 41. I crossed into Oshkosh, and less than two and a half hours after leaving my maternal grandmother’s I arrived at my paternal grandmother’s. She had a nice lunch waiting for me and informed me that we had reservations for a special chef’s dinner that night. The retirement community that her house is in has a real chef and every month he gives demonstration dinners. Since it is June, he grilled everything. The appetizer was grilled pizza with fontina, crimini mushrooms and white truffle oil. For an entrée, flank steak with a chipotle-cilantro rub and sweet corn, and dessert was a grilled sweet potato s’mores pie. It was all quite tasty.

Since there were only a few guests among all the residents there, one of the administrators went around asking the guests to introduce themselves to the 40 or so assembled diners. I said my name and that I was my grandmother’s grandson. Then I was asked how I had gotten here tonight, So I briefly explained that I had ridden my bike from San Fransisco. Thus began my minor celebrity status at the ol’ folks’ home. Throughout dinner, I had several people approach me to ask questions of my life and journey. Among the other diners were Bill and Barbara Urbroch. Barbara is my godmother, though this was only the second time as an adult that I have seen her. Bill was a favorite professor of my parents’ when they attended UW Oshkosh and I could easily see way. Laid back and soft spoken, but with a quick wit, Bill is an excellent conversationalist. It was really nice to see them and we talked long after the dinner ended, until the crew clearly wanted to clear the tables from the veranda.

Day 48, Princeton, WI – Oshkosh, WI
43.0 miles in 2:25:04. 3084.4 miles total in 252:56:03, and today’s top speed of 29.8mph