A Bluff Is Called - A Fistful of Advil - CycleBlaze

A Bluff Is Called

On Father's Day, my wife and two kids surprised me with a couple of gifts: a set of panniers for my bicycle and a challenge. As my wife put it, "I am calling your bluff. You've been talking about doing a long bike trip for years. I will drive the four of us to my parents' house and you can ride back." It would be one thing if my in-laws lived down the road a piece and we were talking about a day trip. But no, they live in Chesterton, Indiana just east of Gary at the tip of Lake Michigan. We live in Mount Vernon, Virginia about 13 miles southeast of Washington, DC. We are talking major miles here, somewhere around 650 to 700 to be more or less exact.

We head west on August 23, which would leave me about 10 days to get back in time for our kids' first day of school. Of course, the world will continue to rotate on its axis if I make it back day or two later, but what kind of trip would it be if I took my time and enjoyed the road less traveled? After all, I am experienced at bike trips that bite off more than I can chew.

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