For this trip, there were two historical destinations. One was in Branch County, California Township, where James Lawrence had settled in the mid 1830s. He had left such a good description of the country when it was new, and of his misadventures in setting up a farm, that I wanted to go and look for myself. The other was the Land of Gilead, also in Branch County. (The area is more commonly known as Gilead Township.) I wanted to see the place where Bishop Philander Chase had come to build a seminary in 1832. Chase was the founder of Kenyon College in Ohio, but after a dispute there went to Michigan. He came to the area at the time of the Black Hawk scare.

The photo of the horses was taken near (or on?) the land that had belonged to Lawrence, not far from the crossroads known as California. Lawrence's old farm is apparently owned by Amish people now. I spent some time in the area, taking photos. Then I moved on and passed a house where three Amish men were working on the roof. They all stopped work and came to the edge of the roof to look at me and my touring rig as I rode past. I sometimes get that kind of attention in Amish country, and must admit that I enjoy it.

Someone else had written:

>When I get a flat I inflate the tube to find the leak so I can check the 
>tire at that location to remove the offending object. Since I found the 
>hole it's easier to patch it than to change it. This assumes that you 
>mount the tire in the same orientation each time (traditionally with the 
>manufacturers label on the drive side in line with the stem). 

I'll have to remember that. In between swatting mosquitos and looking for the hole, I usually get mixed up on which way the tire was oriented, so am never sure if I've got it oriented the same way or not and if the same foreign object is going to give me another flat a few minutes later.

Here was my experience while a couple weekends ago, on my first bike campout of the year.

1. Get to campground Thursday night. Realize I forgot the tent poles for my hoop tent. Call my wife to ask if she can bring them to Friday night's campground where we'll get together. For now, use the tent as a sort of bivy sack.

2. Late Friday afternoon: Front tire goes flat

3. Walk the bike back to a mowed section of ditch so I can work without losing parts in the tall grass.

4. Take off front panniers. My low-rider rack somehow makes it difficult to turn the quick release, so I unscrew the other end of the skewer thing, and promptly lose the spring in the low grass.

5. Give up looking for the spring. Get to work on the tube.

6. I can't locate the leak. It's windy, and the pump-it-up-and-put-the-tube-close-to-your-cheek method doesn't work. The hole is big enough that the tube keeps losing pressure fast.

7. Give up and get out my spare tube. I'll fix the punctured one later, in camp.

8. Install tube. Put tire on rim. Pump it up, let out air, etc. to let it seat itself properly.

9. Put enough air in to ride on. Panic. Notice the tire is not seated properly, and is being pushed way off the rim. Notice this about 1/2 second before I can reach for the valve and relieve the pressure. Big bang.

10. The cilia in my ears gradually unflatten, and I can hear again.

11. My spare tube is shot. Now I HAVE to repair the old one. Sacrifice my remaining drinking water so I can find the leak via the bubble method in my stove pot.

12. Finish the repair, taking care not to blow it this time.

13. As I ride towards the campground (20 miles yet), think about where to buy a tube tomorrow so I'll have a spare again. Grumble about the time that will be wasted.

14. Almost to campground. Look down and see that my right front pannier is missing. Where did I lose it? It was there a few miles back when I stopped to put more air in my front tire (I think). A few years ago it once came lose and was flung fifty feet down an embankment where it was hard to find, but that time it had made a loud twang as the hook caught in the spokes. This time I didn't hear a thing.

15. Ride to campground to enlist the use of our car to go back and search for it. Think about the replacement cost of pannier, tools, jacket, camp shoes, AC adapter for my new HP Jornada computer, etc etc. I'll be cold in camp without my jacket, and I don't dare go riding tomorrow without tools.

16. While waiting in long lines at campground, grumble about having to pay a vehicle fee to ride my bike into the park, when it could have gone for free if on the car. While waiting, my wife finds me. Dump all my gear in the car and take off to look for the pannier.

17. We look until dark. No luck.

18. Get a fast-food dinner and go back to the campground to set up tent in the dark. Suddenly realize that the pannier I lost was not the one containing tools. It was the one containing our tent.

19. Abandon our tent site ($10) and two vehicle fees ($5 for bike and $5 for car). Go stay in a cheap motel instead ($47). At least I have my tools and can ride tomorrow.

20. Go to buffet breakfast--all we can eat. Indulge. Don't worry about putting on excess pounds. I'll ride it all off today, anyway.

21. Go to bike shop in Angola, IN. It's located on the corner of the worst traffic circle I've ever seen (and won't open until 10 am). I've seen traffic circles, but this one is something else. It's in an old public square, with a big monument in the center, and shops and parking in each of the four corners. What with cars entering and leaving the circle from the road and from each of the parking lots, it's terrible. And it's right on US-20, which means this is a traffic circle with heavy semi-trailer truck traffic. Buy tubes and get out of there.

22. Spend the rest of the morning looking for pannier. No luck.

23. 1 p.m. I get ready to take off riding. I notice my back tire showing signs of tread separation. I'll have to replace it soon. No, it's worse than that. It already has an aneurism and I have no spare tire. Give it up and drive home, mow lawn, work around the house, buy tires, feel bloated all day from that big breakfast.

(I got a good long ride on Sunday afternoon, though.)

>I don't use "glueless" patches I've heard rumors that they are for 
>"temporary" use only and may come loose after a time. 

I've used glueless the last few years with no apparent problems. But after reading the above, you may not find me to be the sort of person to take advice from.