110 Miles of Misery ... by Steve Carter

I had never been this far north. Standing in International Falls, Minnesota, looking into Canada, put me a long way from my driveway in Tupelo, Mississippi.

After landing, I hitched a ride to my motel and joyfully saw my recumbent trike waiting. Finding no damage from being shipped, I set out on a “shakedown ride” to get everything tuned up and locate the next morning’s planned route.

What I found waiting caused my eyes to bug out and I’m pretty sure I went pale! It’s a good thing my ride included three wheels, or I would have surely fallen over in shock. The route I had been counting on during my year of planning turned out to be a dirt trail that looked like somewhere old cars went to die! Huge craters and overgrown brush in the place of the expected paved ‘bike path’. Oh Boy!

Back in my room, I rounded up a map, sought advice from locals, and made tentative routing plans before grabbing a few winks. After a very few winks, I started out of town and waved over a man heading to church. Honoring my request, he promised to put my name on the prayer list.

As a rule, I have plenty of faith in my ability to overcome adversity. However, this cool morning found me falling well short of confident. This start had absolutely nothing in common with my original plan, but neither did hanging around International Falls. After all, I came up here to ride, so off I went, trusting the Lord to either take me to my Heavenly home or back to where folks ate grits on a regular basis.

Because of the extreme winters that Minnesota served up, the roads were mostly filled in cracks or potholes. So away I went, weaving around the places that needed filling in and bumping across those already patched. Glad to be making progress, and not given to complaining, I settled into a comfortable 7-10 MPH pace and marveled at the scenery. While the landscape didn’t have many towns to mark my location, I stayed true to last night’s impromptu plans while trying to not dwell on the nagging dread of what I had gotten myself into this time.

I had traveled through marshlands for around four hours when I glanced to my left and saw a moose standing beside the road giving me the once over. Having never seen a moose in my life, I stared right back until she walked off. Other than around three pickup trucks, I didn’t have to share the road. I admit it got a little lonely out there, but then again, not dodging drivers talking on the phone has its advantages.

While cruising along, I saw more eagles that morning than ever before in my life! Beautiful, majestic birds complemented by a variety of ducks and a goose or two. I’m told there were likely a few wolves keeping an eye on me, but I never saw them. I have never cared for wolves; the eagles were nice but wolves I can live out without and be happy for it.

Around noon, I pulled into a small town and walked into an ‘everything store’ staffed by a very helpful young man. He suggested a route to Grand Rapids, which I gratefully took. He likely found my southern accent as entertaining as I did his. After enjoying a little small talk, I settled back onto my trike and headed out.

In midafternoon, I heard thunder to go along with the dark clouds I had been watching in my mirrors. Just as rain came to visit, I pulled over to put on rain gear. While cinching up my jacket, I noticed a Bed and Breakfast across the road and briefly considered stopping for the day. But with daylight left and the rain falling lightly, I pushed on. This ended up being a bad move, a very bad move indeed!

Around nine p.m. things got a little ugly. The rain turned serious and trucks pulling fishing boats began flying by me a whole lot closer than necessary. Chances are, despite my flashing lights, those drivers probably never saw me. One tap from a bumper would probably have sent me flying over the road shoulder into a marsh where I would have been ‘discovered’ in about 300 years!

For the last twenty miles or so, I dealt with something I can only call an out-of-body experience. My legs were like wheels on a steam-powered train, just pushing along, while my hands worked the gears and brakes. With them on auto-pilot, my eyes kept watching the growing glow of Grand Rapids.

The most dangerous time that night came when I hydroplaned sideways into the middle of the road. I remembered thinking, “if a truck comes blasting over this hill, I’m dead.” Staying calm, I soon regained control of the trike, while the undisturbed peace of God kept me moving.

I had pretty much seen enough misery when I saw scattered houses that signaled the outskirts of town. Soon, this day’s journey ended with me tucked in warm and looking forward to spending the next day eating pancakes and drinking hot chocolate!

O.K., what did I learn from this?

The lessons reinforced during these miserable seventeen hours of riding apply to everyday life. Regardless of how meticulous our planning is, we will still likely face unexpected trials!

When in unfamiliar territory, be it physical or spiritual, seek counsel from those who know the terrain. No need to learn everything the hard way!

Also, have faith in your abilities for victory over ‘troubled waters’. Suffering needlessly is not part of God’s overall plan for us. He is always watching and has no problem sending aid in ways only He can render.

Steve Carter

Steve Carter lives in Tupelo, Mississippi. He is a Bible college graduate, military and hospice chaplain, and musician.

Steve may be contacted by email at: Msroadkill@bellsouth.net