2020, Day 1: Restarting

*Courtesy of Mom's Perfectly-Timed Accidental Boomerang

From Dad:

September 3, 2020

♫ Riding in the rain,

Just riding in the rain.

I can’t believe my luck.

I’m soak-ed again! ♬

After such a beautiful day yesterday, the weather turned foul for the first day of riding. The forecast said it was going to rain in the 8:00, 9:00, and 10:00 hours. They weren’t kidding. I got an early start at 7:45. Pretty soon it started to rain, then let up for a half hour. But it rained pretty straight from 9:00 to 11:00. I found a rest area about 10:30 and got out of the rain for a while. Then I rode again from 11:00 to 12:15, finishing today’s goal at McMillan.

We had tickets for a boat tour of Pictured Rocks out of Munising. But the wind kicked up and they had to cancel everything for the rest of the day. The ticket lady said, “When Superior gets riled up, it takes her a while to calm down.” I turned to the couple behind me in line and said, “I’m the same way!”

I broke two spokes on my back wheel today. We found a bike shop in Munising and got it fixed.

4 hours, 45 minutes, including breaks. 49 miles

Suffice it to say that historians won't be using dad's journal entries to paint the portrait of the American Dream, Circa 2020. Either he writes like an accountant, or he's just lost his ability to type with ease due to hours of handlebar clutching.

Either way, 2020 riding has officially begun. As if 2020 hadn't already given us enough signs to stay home, the maker rained on dad's parade without so much as an overture. You could say he was... treading water.

Despite the deluge, dad rode on. He's nothing if not resilient, and determined, and probably still on that post-resignation high. At least it's a summer rain, and that keeps you cool, but not TOO cool. Plus, if he gets thirsty, all he has to do is open up and ride faster!

After the ride & rain, attempts at other recreation being thwarted, mom and dad managed to find a nice detour and do a bit of walking and sightseeing.

Mom found out that Michigan(ians? Michinanigans? Michigoners? idk) take pride in the separation of state-and-state matched by none but those outside the contiguous 48, and the upper-peninsula(ns? Penicillans? Peninsulations?) call themselves "Yoopers," which seems exactly like the kind of accented benign insult you'd find from someone in the Great Lakes region. Dad has found his people.

A few Phases of 10 later, and day 1 is over already at ... 8 PM Central. What a life! The Denny's Early Bird Special waits for no man.