Grain elevators in the early morning fog near Sheffield, Illinois.
Grain elevators in the early morning fog near Sheffield, Illinois.
Corn pickers in Flanagan, Illinois.
Farm house lawn decoration near Pontiac, Illinois.
Last Modified on 9/24/97 at 5:07:23
Day's Narrative: At breakfast this morning some farmers were there discussing things, and one said that he and his wife weren't going to replace the dog anymore. He said they live on a highway and their dogs keep getting killed by cars, so they have decided not to have dogs anymore. The other men at the table nodded soberly in agreement. I got away at dawn and there was a light fog (see photo). Actually, the fog hung around until past noon, so the morning was cool and didn't warm up to the predicted 86 F (30 C) temperature. Connie caught up with me about 11:30 and we definitely decided to go to Pontiac instead of El Paso. Going to El Paso involved less riding east. I had a headwind from the east today on some of the route, so we had decided to see how the winds developed during the day, before committing ourselves to going to Pontiac. As it turned out the east winds were light. In Flanagan, IL I stopped at a convenience store and noticed corn pickers at attention across the road (see photo). It appears to be a custom around here for farm families to decorate their yards. One sees collections of antique farm equipment, statues of deer, geese, ducks, and pigs in the yards. In the photo above I believe this farmer has out done all the others by reconstructing a 1930s service station -- complete with automobile. I got to the motel where Connie was about 4 pm. We are laying over here tomorrow to rest a bit and explore Pontiac (pop. 11,300) and Normal, IL. Thoughts while Riding Along: Wind Resistance and Bicycles. There's nothing quite like a headwind to make you think about wind resistance as you ride along. This is a physics kind of thing, so some of you might want to skip over it. Somewhere in physics I once learned that wind resistance is proportional to the velocity or even to the square of the velocity of a thing, depending on the thing's shape. That is, if the thing's shape is like a jet plane the resistance is proportional to the velocity. If the shape is like an outhouse, it's probably proportional to the square of the velocity. Since aerodynamically, a bicycle with rider is shaped more like an outhouse than a jet plane, it's wind resistance is probably closer to being proportional to the square of the velocity. What does this mean then? It means that if the wind speed against you doubles, say from 10 mph to 20 mph, then the resistance of the air against you quadruples. Now, that means that you, as a bicycler, can have a real big effect on wind resistance by changing the shape you present to the wind. Any bicycler readily knows this, because he/she will instinctively bend over the handlebars when in a headwind, thus reducing the area facing into the wind. This also says anything a bicycler can do to make his shape more like a jet plane and less like an outhouse will have a large effect in headwinds. This includes not having any flapping shirt, coat or pants. Now one begins to understand why bicycle pants and shirts are tight -- so they don't flap and increase air resistance. It also implies that what a bicycler does to the surface of clothing, and shaving legs are of secondary importance since those are probably not proportional to the square of the velocity like the shape is. [Connie] What's wrong with the sky? About nine years ago we brought our daughter Heather way east of the Rocky Mountains for the first time. Somewhere about mid-Missouri, she looked up and said, "What's wrong with the sky?" It was white because of the high humidity. One has to realize that kids raised in New Mexico or the western deserts are used to crystal-clear blue skies most of the time. When it does rain, it tends to be of the monsoonal version with a massive build-up of thunderheads and a quick storm, followed by blue skies again. Most of the time, one can see what the weather is like in a town 100 miles or so away by going to a nearby high place, like the Los Alamos Middle School parking lot for us, and looking at 100 mile distant Albuquerque, or on a clear winter day further North to Colorado. This overcast, gray sky or visible air is a new concept. We explained that what she was seeing was water in the air. It's been that way today. When I opened the motel room curtains this morning, I could almost see water hanging in the air. Ordinarily this kind of atmosphere in this area is associated with oppressive heat -- something like walking into a wool army blanket soaked in hot water. Not so today, it was moist, but cool. It was a most pleasant day for this drive -- overcast, cool, and with very little traffic on the roads we took. Ray rode 90.7 miles and I drove about 120 miles. We made it to the same place, but I took a more meandering route -- not lost, just bewildered, the scenic route, if you please. Pontiac is another lovely town. As we drove around looking for a place for dinner -- we chose Chinese -- I saw neighborhoods extremely reminiscent of my home-town of Casper, Wyoming, where I lived until I was about 8 when I moved to Albuquerque, New Mexico. There are single story ranch style and more squarish houses, two story, slightly Victorian houses, all with a wooden or vinyl clapboard siding. The cicadas were buzzing everywhere, louder than one ever hears in New Mexico (we don't have even half as many trees for them.) If these are 17 year Cicadas, it must be a big breakout year -- the 17th. © Ray & Connie Poore, 1997
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