Route 6 skirts Lake Erie going west from Cleveland, and as we rode it we kept catching glimpses of the lake through the trees. When we couldn't see the water, we could usually still see the big, uninterrupted sky that opens up above it.
Cedar Point has held Amusement Today's title for "Best Amusement Park in The World" for the past ten years, and has more roller coasters than any other park in the world, including the second tallest and second fastest on the globe. Needless to say, as a rollercoaster enthusiast, this was a trip I had been meaning to make for a while (though I didn't expect I would make the trip on a bicycle). The Millennium Force was all I hoped it would be, just beautiful. There was also a coaster called "Mantis" which you ride standing up, which I had never seen before. Top Thrill Dragster, the tallest, fastest guy, uses magnets to blast you to 120 miles per hour in four seconds (on a horizontal track), the force of which sends you up 420 feet before you plummet back down the other side. It's a short ride, but still worth the wait.
Just in case...
Jeff picked us up and made us some pizzas before sending us on our way. As we traveled west in the late afternoon, we encountered a couple of interesting smells. First, the unmistakable odor of ketchup, which was weird until we saw a Heinz factory on our right. Later, as the southern bend of Route 6 sent us through some marshy territory, the smell of decay, which at first I attributed to the swamp. We were rolling over what looked like dark, wrinkled leaves on the shoulder, which I thought nothing of until I slowed and noticed they were hundreds and hundreds of little frogs, lying broken on the road side. It must have been a great migration interrupted by this fatal swath of asphalt. I saw one little guy trying to make his way across the street, frozen in the middle, in the path way of an oncoming truck. I tried to chase him across with my bike, but he turned and hopped under my tire. Don't know if he made it under me safe, didn't have the courage to look back and see. My technique was careless, stupid. I should have picked him up and carried him across to safety. I regret my carelessness and its possibly dreadful consequences. I feel badly for the little guy, and his thousand brothers and sisters, their instinctive wanderings thwarted by the intervention of man.
We made the 23 miles to Fremont before dark, where another fire fighter and cycling enthusiast, Jeremy, had offered to put us up. We just can't stop meeting wonderful, generous people.
Dusk over Route 6