In December I mounted a successful letter-writing campaign, getting me about 40% of the way to my fund raising goal. In February my Giant Defy II arrived, and I made many investments to make it road-ready. In March, the snows melted and I could finally take my bike off it's trainer and onto the road. I've since put about 250 road miles of training in and had one 6-hour pedal-a-thon to raise funds and awareness.
Two days ago, on a whim, I decided to take my bike out to Putnam County and go on a sort of 'covered bridge tour'. I started at DePauw, my undergrad alma mater, and made a loop around the mostly deserted country roads.
On my route I started out eastward, swung around Heritage Lake, went north toward Bainbridge, IN. In between I found a goat farm with the classic Indiana barnyard scene below.
I also found some friendly burros and a horse on CR 800 N toward Bainbridge.
A few miles down the road, I realized I'd made a mistake in my route planning as my road turned to all gravel and potholes. Unfortunately it was the only direct route to the covered bridge I was aiming to see. Therefore I got some welcomed rest from the saddle and walked 2 miles to get to Pine Bluff Bridge.
From Pine Bluff Bridge the road got more passable and I turned south and west toward Clinton Falls.
It's a brave time to be alive here in the early spring. It's a wonder that the daffodils made it through the frost last week and burst forth in glorious yellow as if nothing happened.
Right out of Clinton Falls is the Edna Collins bridge, a supposedly haunted covered bridge. The story goes that a girl and her father would visit the bridge in the summer time. The father would allow the girl to go swimming in the Little Walnut Creek as he waited in his car then drive up to the bridge as it was getting dark, honk 3 times, and she would come out and get in the back seat. One day the girl drowned in the creek as her father waited and has haunted it since. As my friends from DePauw and I have tried, the modern part of the story is that if you do the same as her father (arrive at the bridge near sundown and honk 3 times) your windows will fog up, a handprint will appear, and your backseat will get wet.
Personally I think the effects of the story is that your windows are rolled up and the car-mates are breathing heavily (thus the fogging) and at some point someone wets themselves (thus the back-seat moisture).
For the rest of the trip I spent my time dodging the many free-running dogs of Putnam County. It seems like every farmer seems to have some sort of Rottweiler or Pitt bull or combination thereof. At one point, I had four different dogs after me. The only time it got testy, though, was one German Shepherd that thought it would be a good idea to run right in front of me and then stop. He almost got a tire sandwich, but we both made a necessary dodge and ended up okay.
This was good practice for my trip, I think, as I am finding what combination of speed or slowness is needed. That is, if you go to slow the dogs will be all over you if they so decide to chase. If you go too fast, however you will escape them faster but the seasoned chasers will think you a worthy adversary and will not stop until you are being knawed upon. I found that 11 mph is about the right speed to keep a low profile, but I guess it probably varies from dog to dog. Most are just doing their jobs defending the property and will give up after you're past their territory. I don't count it against them. It makes the trip a bit more interesting, even.
At the end of the journey, as I approached the edge of Greencastle again, I came upon Dunbar Bridge. I had gone about 57 miles at this point and was ready for some Marvin's Frank's Fries, and to get back before it got dark.
This sounds like a great trip! If I was in better shape I'd want to do it too. Beautiful pics... makes me miss my home state and going to DePauw. Oh, and very funny about the dogs.
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