87: not a big fan of tats, 3 dudes, this magical place, bumpy landing, the fun siblings have, spread hope, it's john!, the castaway house, a room with a view, great hosts

July 23, 2025

Adrian to Ann Arbor

“He’s not a big fan of tats.”

The person being referenced, of course, is Jesus, and although the older gentleman expounding scripture didn't cite any, he did say it with conviction to his younger coworker, which counts for a lot in these situations. The younger man studiously nodded, and the conversation continued in the same vein.

Later, he mentioned why he switched jobs to the new company: "When I had the chance to one work for a Christian family, I jumped at it. They would’ve had us working 7 days a week at the other place."

In Tecumseh, I hit a roadblock. I passed the sign to get a closer look, but it didn't look promising so I followed the detour sign.

Unfortunately, the detour would've taken me pretty far off the path so I backtracked to see if I could sneak past from the other side.

There's a glare, but the sign says, "3 Dudes and Dinner."

Remembering a dresser I passed on the side of the road in Florida, and regretting that I didn't stop to take it, when I saw this one I slammed on my brakes so hard the wheels locked and I came to a sliding halt. I couldn't believe someone just left this jewel here... and for free! Not believing my good fortune to have seen it before anyone else scooped it up, I loaded it onto my bike, thinking how much easier it'll be to keep all of my gear organized.

Then, I kid you not, literally 30 yards down the street, I spied THIS gem. Seriously?!? What kind of magical place IS this, where people discard such treasures!?! This is GREAT! No more of those embarrassing moments in the middle of the path when someone unexpectedly rides up behind me. Even better, no more of those awkward conversations at the Police Station. Man, I couldn't believe my good fortune! I've told you what a lucky person I am... maybe NOW you'll believe me.

Nope. Although having a microwave would be nice to have on the road, there's no way would I ever pack one because, seriously, what kind of crazy person would take a microwave on a bike trip?? A microwave? That's just plain silly. Although, if I happen to come across a long enough extension cord.......

"But I don't WANT you to drag me in front of that truck!"

the fields are a deep gold, and I wish the pictures could show you how beautiful they really are

An hour south of Ann Arbor, my stop for the night, I still had no idea about where I'd be staying. I had messaged a couple of Warm Showers hosts but didn't receive a reply, so when I pedaled into Saline, Michigan, I tried another one, Elsa. I received a near-immediate response: "Sure!" She didn't even have time to check the comments about me on Warm Showers. She'll be home around 7:00, so I'll need to find a place to hang out until then.

Just before crossing the Ann Arbor-Saline Road, I saw something in the corner of my eye, someone who got a bit too inebriated and fell asleep on the side of the road. It wasn't the first time I'd seen it, and I kept riding.

However, as I continued rolling along the street my brain slowly processed the picture it had just been offered, and concluded that something else was going on, because the guy was actually on the sidewalk, not beside it, and there was a wheelchair, toppled over, next to him.

I turned around, climbed up onto the sidewalk, and pedaled back to him.

He didn't look well, but was breathing regularly, and his pulse was regular. The hospital bracelet on his wrist told me his name, so I touched his shoulder and called out, "JOHN! CAN YOU HEAR ME? JOHN!" He remained unresponsive, with only an irregular and occasional twitch as he lay on the sidewalk.

John was in full sun, and I wondered how long he'd been laying there. His bald scalp was sunburned, but it could've been from earlier. Still, no one appeared to be taking notice of us, and it made me wonder.

I've had enough emergency medical training to know that he shouldn't be moved in case he has a neck injury - it could result in permanent paralysis - and called 911 Emergency Services. When asked, I couldn't say where I was, so I scanned the area and found a store, Meijer, and let the dispatcher know.

She informed me that they're at another emergency but will be there as fast as they can.

The heat, you should know, was intolerable. By now, it had pulsed its way to more than 95F/35C, and I wondered if the temperature of the sidewalk might actually cause facial burns. It was blistering so, while I waited, I just stood next to him trying to shade him from the sun. After a couple of minutes I picked up the nearby sweatshirt and gently lifted his head a couple of inches and slipped it underneath.

All I could do was try to block the sun.

I stood there for about ten minutes without anyone else stopping, and again wondered how long he’d been there. About thirty seconds before the fire truck arrived, a car pulled to the curb. As the driver called 911, a passenger yelled out the window asking if he was okay, but by that point I could hear a siren approaching.

When the First Responders arrived, two firefighters, the lead guy (not his name, but I'll call him "Ken" so I won't have to keep calling him "Firefighter #1") walked briskly toward us, burdened with a couple of heavy bags.

As he approached, he exclaimed, “John!! Again?!? We just did this four hours ago! Come on, man!”

The second firefighter walked over a minute later with more gear: “Oh! It’s John! Hey John!”

Ken began dumping the contents of the single remaining container of Powerade, and told me how John has become quite the expert at stealing vodka. I gathered the empty containers of Powerade scattered on the ground, as well as the empty bottle of Popov (Wikipedia notes that Popov “competes in the low price market”).

"I'd wash my hands after touching those," Ken said, and held up a latex-gloved hand.

A police officer pulled up at that point, got out, reviewed the situation, and cried, “It’s John! I haven’t seen him in a week!”

Ken, puzzled, replied, “Really??” The policeman shrugged, then simply said, “Vacation.”

I stayed out of the way as they attached ECG leads, pulse oximeters, and all the other medical paraphernalia that comes when a person has passed out on the sidewalk.

While we waited around for the ambulance to arrive Ken continued, "Yeah, I usually see him every couple of days," although he did see him yesterday in addition to earlier this morning.

After another five minutes, the ambulance arrived. There were two paramedics and, as they approached, the first one exclaimed, "It's John! Hey buddy, you been up to your old tricks again?!" Then he looked over his shoulder and said to the other paramedic, "It's John."

I took some pictures very surreptitiously. SO surreptitiously, in fact, that my gloved finger was covering the lens so no one could see it.

I sat in the shade, previously occupied by John, for a few minutes, then restarted my trip. By the time I arrived in Ann Arbor, around 11:30, the temperature was already pushing 90F/32.2C, so I found a coffee shop near Elsa's house and slowly nursed a lemonade as if it were my Precious from Lord of the Rings while I tried to catch up on the blog. At 5:58 one of the employees startled me from my concentration/reverie to let me know that "We'll be closing at 6:00." By that time, I had settled in like a squatter so, after packing up my laptop, cables, chargers, and everything else I had spread out, I pedaled across the street in the heat to the Ann Arbor Public Library.

After a short hour Elsa texted me, and I pedaled the half mile to her place where she, her partner Eric, and I got acquainted.

Because it's so fascinating, I thought I'd mention the unique house that Elsa and Eric own. It was built in 1976 by a guy named Alan Roebuck, who used discarded and recycled parts to build it. After working his way up in the construction business... painting, then small modernization jobs, he eventually started building houses.

This house was built from cast off parts: the hardware came from flea markets, the ceramic tile squares under the stove came from a silo that was being torn down, studs for framing were ripped from old buildings, the marble slab to protect the wall behind the stove came from a building being razed, the wood-block countertop was once the core of a door at a school, and the siding is knotty waste strips from the sawmill. It has a high studio ceiling with a narrow band of windows across the front which lets light in, but with an overhang to block the sun.

The sunken bathtub is made of ceramic tiles over a concrete form, and the house is partially earth-sheltered to insulate it against the heat and cold.

It's open and airy, with the feel of a Frank Lloyd Wright house, and even has mitred-glass corner windows.

My favorite parts were the stairs to the loft, and the loft itself.

Along the top ridge of the ceiling there's a small gap for ventilation which, unfortunately, allows anyone in the loft to peer over it and into the bedroom. I can't imagine why they didn't want me to sleep there.

More interesting than the house they live in were my Warm Showers hosts themselves. Both of them utilize their bicycles like Europeans and understand, like me, the number of bicycles a person needs (n+1). They've cycled all over the world, including Argentina - and, note this, do you remember the steepest street in America? The one in Pittsburgh? Eric pedaled all the way to the distant top. He needed to travel there for something else so he took his bike with him, and he did it in the middle of winter (with the modest admission that it was only 50 degrees or so).

They took me out to dinner the first night, then cooked a great meal for me the second night. (Their dogs, Buck and Penelope, were super chill and friendly)

I'm taking a rest day tomorrow, and plan to rent a car to see what Detroit is like. To date, I've only seen the airport, which was unusually nice when I was there several years ago.

So.... tomorrow: Detroit!

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Today's ride: 44 miles (71 km)
Total: 2,277 miles (3,664 km)

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Karen PoretCurious to know if the house this lovely couple now own, (but built by) “Alan Roebuck” is of the Sears & Roebuck family. The tinkering parts seem to “add up”..
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5 months ago

Mark BinghamTo Karen PoretIt's a good question, and one in which I have no idea as to the answer.
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5 months ago