The Flight Continues...: The Muncie Century

Biking to Muncie today...

On a new route

Using Google maps.

Wish me luck.

Leaving Fishers.

A fallen leaf on a country road.

One quick photo...

The wind blows it away.

Brief as childhood, it is gone.

A garden in Pendleton.

The lady of the house is so proud of her flowers.

I don't tell her I like the leaves better.

I see a man tying ribbons to his fence.

A wedding this afternoon.

Where is the photographer?

If I were the bride I would cherish this picture of my Dad - denim sleeves - wrapping pink ribbons for my wedding day.

I think about my Mom.

Yesterday was her wedding anniversary...

Her first without Dad.

We kids sent her 29 roses to Zionsville Meadows - one for each child and grandchild.

We didn't count the grand-puppy.

Biking...

Turning north to Anderson.

A glance below to the White River.

I'm following the White north-east today.

It flows from Muncie

to Anderson

to Fishers.

I'm flowing backwards.

Where is Plum Street?

I'm a little bit lost.

Droid tells me he can't find a satellite signal in Anderson, Indiana.

So I resort to the gas station.

Friendly directions...

...but wrong.

Many wrong turns.

Confused.

Lost.

Perplexed.

But at least I can buy Toma Toes.

Finally I find my way to the White River Parkway of Muncie.

I'm on my way to the Ecoblitz.

An annual celebration of the John Craddock wetlands.

The Parkway is beautiful.

I've never biked here before.

Fallen sycamore decorates the waterfront...

Glowing arch branches.

Bikers...

Walkers...

Fishermen

Look! The Minnetrista Center.

That's where Barry's daughter is getting married today.

And look! There are the white chairs waiting for guests.

And look!

Is that Barry?

An hour before the Big Event and there's Barry still in straw hat and Red-tail shirt.

I remember my Dad...

My wedding day...

Twenty four years ago.

Back on bike.

Gotta find Ecoblitz.

Maybe I should follow these guys with the heron.

The Ecoblitz!

Nice young Colby gives me a tour of the wetlands...

Mary Beth helps a young girl learn her milkweeds.

And there's John Craddock himself!

Wonderful man.

It started as a college thesis...

Chemicals from the factories stained the river orange, purple and green.

He started an agency.

He cleaned the river...for 30 years he cleaned the river.

He counted the return of fish, birds and mammals to the waters of the White.

What a great legacy to leave for little Avery here.

Thank you, Mary Beth, for putting on this Ecoblitz.

Thank you, John, for saving the river.

Thank you, Avery, for making me smile.

But it's time to go.

I have 51 miles to get back home.

I bike back along the river.

Watching the lone fisherman and the lively families.

People all up and down the river.

Do they know that the man who brought life back to the river is just up the greenway, smiling?

Biking back....

Thinking...

Weddings...

Babies...

Saving the rivers...

It all seems connected somehow...

Like a flow of energy...

Generations

caring for generations.

We flow like a river and...

Hmmm.......

I seem to be on 332 when I should be on 32.

I must have been thinking so much I missed a turn.

No matter. As long as I'm generally heading west and south I should get to a road I know.

But why is the wind blowing from my right when it should be coming from the south?

...and why is my shadow in front of me if I'm going west?

And why do I see Ball State University?

Oh, no! I'm going completely the wrong way.

Turn around.

Head home.

Getting tired. Getting hot.

Stop at gas station.

Six different helpful people.

Six different sets of directions.

I safely head west, but it's a lot longer than the river's route south-west to home.

Hit 9 and turn south.

Eight miles to Anderson.

I stop in the shade for a moment's drink

Henry comes out.

He was sitting on his front porch and noticed this lone biker stopped on the road.

-Want an ice-cold Sprite? he asks.

-Want me to throw your bike in the truck and drive you home?

-No thanks, Henry. I've just biked my way across America. I can handle it.

-Are you sure you can get to Fishers before dark? he asks.

-Piece of cake, I say.

But I'm tired and when I see the road split in Anderson, I notice my usual route angles towards the east.

No way I'm turning any east!

So I take the road less taken.

Was that a mistake!

Busy roads turn empty.

Cars abandoned.

Parking lots conquered by weeds.

The only people I see are two boys drying papers on the roadside.

I don't know why.

Surely I should pass a road I know - 38 or 32 or 36...

Oops...

I gotta turn right...

going west...

right?

This is getting scary!

I can't believe it!

This road ends, too!

What else can I do?

Turn south.

Hot, tired.

Getting late.

The sun is getting lower and I am getting loster.

I keep expecting Anderson to end.

The road I'm on should turn into something big - like State Road 67.

But it keeps on being MLK avenue of Anderson.

How far can Anderson last?