JUNE 15: Bellview, Ohio. 45 miles.

Forty-five miles? While staying in one place? How does that happen?

It goes like this: When that Samaritan picked us up yesterday, he took 15 miles from our cross-country trek. We skipped from east of Butler, Ohio, to west of Bellview. Which for an anal-compulsive purist like me just won’t do.

So I got up at 6 a.m. and, on the Richland-B&O bike path, which runs along the route of the old Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, rode the 15 miles to Butler and back.  Now I was OK.

Ben just shook his head at my folly, reasoning that 15 lost miles out of a 3,850-mile bike trip was quite literally nothing to lose sleep about. And that it took a 30-mile round trip to cover the 15 westward miles, I’m sure he reckoned, made even less sense.

But the bike path was spectacular by sunrise, with fog rising off farm ponds and light glinting off old railroad trestles.

On my return came the most important part of our day: visiting the bike shop in nearby Lexington. We walked the bikes three miles up the rail path to Y-Not Cycling and Fitness, which was not only open, but had a derailleur that fit Ben’s Giant OCR. They also trued his rear wheel and replaced my front brake pads, whose hundreds of miles of screeching had driven me to distraction.

We were once again good to go, but decided not to. We decided to cool out at the Quality Inn for another night and celebrate Fathers Day at the Dutch Heritage Restaurant, which offered a great Sunday buffet, right up the road.

Later my kids Hallie and Nick called to wish me a happy Fathers Day and filled me in on the Yankee Hill news. Ben had been awake enough to deliver the same sentiments when I left on my 6 a.m. bike ride.

But my older son’s real gift is sharing this epic, if quixotic, summer-long odyssey of his dad’s. He’s not only helped me out of jam after jam, but has proved a great companion. 

Once again, we’re ready to ride tomorrow. Once again, the prediction is for rain, and if that’s the worst thing that happens, we’ll be happy.