77: two fat guys and an oven, RIP, home protection, share the road, mail pouch, taking the low road, autism area, youngstown, woman in a parking lot, meeting bill, phoenix dies, a paper the mob couldn't shut up, sealcoating my pants, free naloxone

July 13, 2025

New Castle to Warren

It's amazing how quickly I can get out of shape, and how long it takes to get back in shape. I sat on my butt for three weeks straight and now, ironically, I can barely sit on my butt. I would've expected that, at a minimum, all the ice cream I ate would give me some extra padding, but apparently not.

If sitting in my comfy chair and eating my weight in ice cream every day doesn’t help, I honestly can’t think of anything else that might.

I stopped here for breakfast just because of the name.

This guy takes home protection to a whole new level. I don't think it'll be long before everyone has one.

THIS makes me think of Pittsburgh, and how we as humans are going to carve, gouge, and cut our way through whatever we need to get where we want to go.

I saw signs for the towns of Mecca and Mesopotamia and, although a detour was tempting, I stayed the course.

The humidity this morning is 86%, and it's going to get hot. C'est le vie.

Man, I hope that biker can outrun that car. Not looking good.

I rode the Stavich Trail from New Castle all the way to Lowellville, about 15 miles,

This coal-carrying train made me feel like I was on one of those vibrating hotel beds that used to be available back in cheap motels back in the 1970s. The whole ground shook for a good ten minutes.

I could see that the trail had been torn out and was unrideable, so there wasn't any point in trying to pass the barricade. Fortunately, there was only about a half mile of the trail left anyway.

This was weird.... the audible directions were telling me to turn right but the map said go straight.

I wasn't sure what to do differently with an autistic child in the area. And how does the puzzle piece fit into the picture?

When Youngstown Sheet & Tube closed on “Black Monday,” (September 19, 1977), 5,000 people were instantly jobless, their means of income disappearing as quickly as dignity at a karaoke bar. It was less like a kick in the groin than a complete evisceration, and the town has never fully recovered. The population dropped from 168,000 in 1950 to 60,000 in 2020, losing 14% to 16% every year. Bruce Springsteen wrote a song about it, aptly entitled Youngstown.

Empty buildings like this blemished the streets.

For a second, the angle of the window made me think we were going to collide.

This woman was sitting on her wheeled walker out in the middle of this industrial area with no one around.

This gives you a better perspective of the area. She's in the center of the photo.

There were several of these sculptures around town, unsurprisingly made of iron.

Although you can't tell it in the picture, the feathers looked amazingly real.

Bill is the first biker I've seen since the GAP, and when we crossed paths in Youngstown I was particularly surprised because we weren't even on a designated bike route... just a nice coincidence. He started in Morrisville, PA, and rode to Twinsburg, OH, for a 25-year reunion with some friends, and is now on his way back via a different route. He's a machine, riding 70 miles a day, and apparently hasn't realized that once you get close to 70, or even 60, and retire, then you're allowed shorter days.

He also mentioned that the heat doesn't bother him, "plus it's been overcast." I was a bit stymied and my response stuck in my mouth like marbles as I was wondering if the weather was completely different on the other side of Youngstown, because the sun had been beating me like a sack of anvils all morning. And, as happens to some people as the years sluice past, my thermoregulatory system has become a bit wonky - I now overheat much easier and have to be careful in my dotage.

I always like to guess what profession a person is in, or was in, and for Bill, because he's so soft-spoken, I'm going with psychiatrist, and a good one at that.

"I know that you just lost everything in the flood, including your home and all possessions, and that cancer you just got diagnosed with sure doesn't look good, and your banker embezzled your entire life's savings, but Mark, really, it's all going to be okay."

And at that point, I'm absolutely sure it will be.

I learned a new word today, or rather, another definition for the word "dies." I thought it was a misspelling of the word "dyes," but couldn't imagine that a company would make that mistake on such professional signage. As it turns out, a "die" is a specialized tool used for shaping/cutting materials, like metal stamping, printing, or coin-making, and the plural is dies. Or maybe it's an obituary.

"The Paper that the Mob Couldn’t Shut Up"

I had read about the Vindicator, and wasn’t going to include it, but when I passed the building and got a picture it gave me an excuse. I’m glad, because I found it interesting.

The Vindicator was founded in 1869 and became the most influential newspaper in northeast Ohio. In its early years, some readers thought the name sounded too aggressive, and wanted to rename it something “softer.” In its later years, they wanted to change it because it sounded like a comic book hero. The owners refused.

Between the late 1950s and the early 1980s, Youngstown was the center of a battle between the Cleveland mafia and the Pittsburgh mafia. As a result, there were at least 82 confirmed bombings here, and it became known as "Crimetown USA.”

During that time, the Vindicator earned a reputation as a “watchdog newspaper.” It was especially known for its strong reporting on organized crime and political corruption. As one would expect when transparency and politicians collide, the paper regularly clashed with local government officials because of its investigative reporting.

It was “The paper that the mob couldn’t shut up,” although they tried. Reporters received death threats, and some had their cars vandalized. The owners “bomb-proofed" the building, i.e., fortified it with reinforced concrete out of concern the mob might target it, and locals joked that the Vindicator “had more spine than City Hall.” Part of the reason it was able to retain independence is that it was family-owned for most of its existence, as opposed to chain-owned newspapers. That independent reporting enabled it to help convict seventy politicians, criminals, and business figures by the 1980s.

In the 1970s, the paper briefly tested radio-controlled delivery robots to carry papers to downtown businesses (a precursor to today’s delivery drones). The robots were slow, easily toppled, and terrified dogs, so the experiment only lasted a few weeks.

Part of the reason I wanted to include it here is as a tribute because, unfortunately, after 150 years, the print edition of the Vindicator ceased publication in 2019 after falling prey to declining circulation and advertising revenue, just like hundred of other newspapers. Shortly afterward, Warren’s Tribune Chronicle took over the Vindicator name, but it was just a rebranded version of the Warren paper. Locals began calling it the “Zombie Vindicator” because, although the name lived on, it felt like a completely different newspaper with less local reporting.

"Pantalone" translates, I believe, to "trousers," so does that mean they sealcoat your pants? Because I'm thinking that could come in handy. And is the word "asphalt" a phonetic misspelling, and the reason for needing to sealcoat your pants?

Niles, Ohio, just across this bridge, is where President William McKinley was born. He had a "lucky carnation" that he gave away to a little girl just a few minutes before Leon Czolgosz delivered the shot that would eventually kill him.

This photo is unedited. The brick is really that vibrant.

I walked over to a local cafe and saw this along the way. It's not even in a run-down part of the city. I hope heat doesn't affect the efficacy, because it's blistering outside.

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Today's ride: 39 miles (63 km)
Total: 1,969 miles (3,169 km)

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