Base! - Day 79: Warsaw to Yoder, IN

Today was mainly just more ibuprofen-enabled crawling. Attempting to keep pressure off my knees meant putting more on my butt, which was becoming a problem of its own. This led to a lot of awkward shifting as I tried to rotate through different, uh, contact patches, attempting to keep things fresh.

I stopped in Columbia City at a farmer's market and planted myself on a bench. This was apparently right where some Jehovah's Witnesses were setting up. Instead of hearing about Jesus, though, I told them all about where I'd been. The conversation was actually pretty pleasant. They just gave me a pamphlet and asked questions. Even though they're known for being pushy about their beliefs, I can understand why. When I considered myself Christian, I was never comfortable with the fact that no one seemed particularly upset by the idea that billions of people were going to be tortured for eternity. It seems like being a little pushy is the only reasonable response to that belief.

As I finished my third peanut butter and honey wrap-thing, one of them pointed over my shoulder and asked "What do you do when THAT happens? Just hole up somewhere?" I turned to see an unbroken front of dark clouds rushing in from that direction while people rapidly disassembled the farmer's market below. One of them helpfully informed me that the front was approaching at forty miles per hour, and that they had had six tornadoes in a bigger storm last week. He said there wasn't a tornado warning for this one, though, so I dug out my reflective vest, said "I just put this on and keep going", and then did just that.

The front was coming from the west, and I rode the tailwind for a bit before turning south. I got pretty thoroughly soaked and dealt with some small hail, but saw no funnel clouds or anything seriously threatening. Eventually I found calmer weather. The only remaining obstacle was a bridge closure across a major freeway. Luckily, the foundation for the road across was still intact, so I was able to wind through dormant construction equipment and the whole thing was only a mild inconvenience.

On the other side of the bridge, a van pulled up alongside me and the driver waved. I recognized Dave, who Jon and I met in Yellowstone. I had contacted him about staying with them on my way through Indiana. He waved and drove on, and I followed him the last mile or so to their house, glad to be out of the elements before the rest of the storm came through.

Approaching stormclouds were the only picture I took today, shortly before getting drenched:

Tortoise race - Day 78: Crown Point to Warsaw, IN

I went sort of far today. It took 15 hours.

Watching me ride a bike would probably have been a lot like waiting for an ailing grandparent while you're holding the door: slow, awkward, and kind of pitiful. It hurt, but morale-wise, I wasn't doing too bad. In a way, it was nice to have an explicit physical challenge with no complications. Either I ride, or I don't. Unlike challenges in the default world, I don't have to worry that I'm missing a smarter approach that would solve everything in five minutes. I don't have to wonder how I'll present this difficulty to my superiors, mentally rehearsing arguments and counters. I will never have to justify this experience using presentation slides. Most importantly, there's very little to feed negative self-criticism. It's just pure, physical pain that will pass with no social complications.

More ibuprofen kept me functional, but barely. Very slight inclines forced me off the bike to walk, and even that required keeping one knee straight. This was the entire day, but I did manage to cover a reasonable amount of ground, setting myself up for a shorter day tomorrow. The one notable event from the ride was that I finally got to see some wild Sandhill Cranes, which I had hoped to run into at some point on my trip. I'm not much of a birdwatcher, but it was neat to see what I believe is the largest bird species in North America.

As it was getting dark, I found a nice hidden spot behind a CenturyLink service box. Unfortunately it had an extremely loud AC unit that cycled every five minutes, provided no cover, and was surrounded by pavement so I couldn't set up my tarp. The forecast predicted rain, so I relocated to a gazebo in a nearby corporate-owned park, hoping that they weren't planning on hosting any team-building events between 9 PM Friday and 6 AM Saturday. Conveniently, the outside of the gazebo was lit but the inside wasn't, meaning that I could see out but no one could see in. That didn't stop me from panicking when someone parked in the nearby lot, but apparently they just wanted to park farther from the corporate office than necessary to drop something off.

Around 1 AM, a group of five boys approached the gazebo. My finely tuned hobo-sense woke me up, and I quietly got into a position where I wouldn't be completely helpless if they decided to punk the homeless guy, which is the kind of thing I would have expected in Sacramento. I watched them approach until they were actually partially inside the structure with me, at which point I figured it was inevitable that they'd discover my stuff. Attempting to sound as friendly as possible, I said "Hi!" out of the shadows. Unfortunately, I don't think it's possible to "sound friendly" as a disembodied voice coming from somewhere nearby in a dark structure that none of us were allowed to be in. Worse, all the lights around the building gave the impression that one was aware of their surroundings. My greeting shattered that impression and all five took off running without more than half a four-letter word. Pro tip: the dark is a lot less scary when you are the scary thing in it.

Stealth camping wisdom would have had me leave that spot immediately, in case they regrouped or reported me to someone. They were young enough that they were breaking some rules themselves, though, and I didn't want to deal with rain, so I rearranged my stuff a bit and went back to sleep without a problem.

My phone wasn't able to capture the cranes at a distance, so here's a house with some chickens instead.