It’s hard to get away from it all when you insist on taking it all with you

I’d love to take your money, really. But I have no one to pass it on to.

Last week’s column detailed my plans for a 500-mile bicycle ride from Lake Huron to Lake Michigan and back again, slated to begin right after Labor Day weekend. Within hours of posting that column online, I was inundated with emails from folks offering to help sponsor my “cause,” whatever it might be. More offers poured in when the column came out in print.

Everybody asked the same question: “What are you riding for?”

Folks assumed my tour is part of some larger effort—cancer research, AIDS, Mothers Against Drunk Driving, something like that. I wish it were, because so many readers seem willing to contribute and I could have raised some real money for a good cause.

But there is no cause. There is no organized group. It’s just me on a bicycle, peddling across the big empty spaces between small Michigan towns. My sore butt and stiff knees won’t be bringing in a dime for anybody, and that’s a shame. If I’m ever crazy enough to attempt this again, I’ll find a cause to support, promise.

At any rate, thanks for the offers of support. Reality Check readers rule!

I’ve been training hard for the ride, peddling an average of 35 miles every day; not going for speed, only distance. I’m hoping to clock off between 40 and 50 miles each day during the tour itself. Being a geezer, that seems like a lot to me, but I think I can do it. If I can’t, I’m hoping some MDOT worker finds my body before the snow falls.

I’ve also begun making a list of things I need to take with me, stuff like a flashlight, tent, sleeping bag and all that. When I first started planning the trip, I pictured a couple Pannier bags containing a change of clothes, a one-person tent, some flip-flops, and a water bottle.

Since then, the list has grown exponentially. There are over 50 items on the list at this point and it keeps right on growing. And it’s all stuff I’m not sure I can live without.

Like a first aid kit. This is me doing this ride; I’m almost sure to suffer some sort of contusion, abrasion or sprain before I reach my destination. There will be no nurse in attendance (though that would probably be a good idea) so I’ll have to minister to my own wounds.

An extension cord. I’ll need one to recharge my BlackBerry, GPS and netbook from time to time, so I can maintain the daily blog stuff I plan to do each evening. (You’ll be able to follow this, if you’re really desperate for entertainment, at http://mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com.)

Granola and turkey jerky. Gotta eat, after all.

GPS unit, so I don’t get too lost. Maps, just in case the battery dies on my GPS.

Knife, in case I’m attacked by marauders, banditos, or guys with big, pink Mohawk haircuts. (Yeah, I know, I’ve seen too many of those Mad Max flicks.)

Bug spray. Sleeping by the side of the road under the stars is going to be more “roughing it” than I’m comfortable with already; I don’t plan on feeding the local insect population as well.

Pepper spray, because farm dogs often do bite. I learned this the hard way years ago.

Zip ties, twist ties, bungee cords, rope and duct tape, because you always need these for something.

A razor, shampoo, soap, toothbrush and paste, deodorant, and contact lens solution, just in case I find myself in a situation where I don’t want to look like a half-crazy derelict.

Two paperbacks.

A towel. The single most important piece of equipment in the traveler’s arsenal, as anyone who’s read “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” already knows.

There’s a bunch of other stuff on the list as well. A conservative estimate has the lot weighing in at about four metric tons, all of which I will try to move from sea to shining sea under pedal-power alone.

Hmm. Maybe I’ll accept your money after all, and use it to buy a bus ticket.

More “Reality Check” online at http://mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com or www.milive.com. E-mail Mike Taylor at mtaylor325@gmail.com.