In a few weeks, my partner and I will fly into Manchester, New Hampshire. From there, we will get on our bikes and ride from northern New England to Cincinnati Ohio. During that time, we will meet each other's parents, go to a wedding, take a train to Canada and get ourselves some wicked calf muscles.
I'm not from New England. I hope I'm using wicked correctly. I've heard the locals laugh when you don't.
Imagine the route meandering across a North Eastern Candy Land, and every region is represented by a saccharine denizen of some unspeakable Gastronomicon. The Earl of Donuts. The Cheesesteak Concubines. That puts just over 1100 miles between Maple Syrup Land and Chili-Dog Town. But you have to start tallying the distance well before that first day of riding. Have to factor in all the here’s and there’s of maneuvering through the hunt for two simultaneous sub leasers, one broken foot and lots and lots of Craigslisting. This maneuver isn’t difficult. Just complicated.
Maybe by the time we pull into Cincinnati, I’ll be able to know the difference between Rhode Island and New Hampshire.
Until then, watch this space.