Bee’s Knees

Bridge connecting Illinois and Wisconsin

Whenever someone asks me where I’m from, I always respond in the same way. “I’m from Wisconsin. Madison, Wisconsin… Well, I was born in Wisconsin, but I moved to Rhode Island when I was four months old. So, I guess I’m really from Rhode Island.” 

I had not been back to Wisconsin since I had left as an infant. And even with no memories of the Midwest, being from Wisconsin had always been a strong part of my identity. Maybe it was because being from the Midwest could help me stand out, or becauseI’ve always loved cheese. But I was excited to finally go back to my birth state after a 22-year hiatus. 

After a day off in Chicago I peddled north through wealthier and wealthier communities that clashed with the dingier and more run-down towns I later saw in northern Illinois. 

Like most other states I’d crossed into, there was no sign as I approached a pedestrian/bike bridge into Wisconsin. Stopping on the bridge, I took in the self-made significance of the imaginary line in front of me I was about to cross and ate leftover deep-dish pizza from the day before. 

After chowing down on the food, I crossed the bridge quickly and let the thrill audibly escape my mouth—I finally returned to my old home. I screamed and cheered in the empty green tunnel that engulfed the bike path. I needed to let out my excitement, but there was no one to receive it except the sun that shined through the trees and the birds cawing with me. 

Milwaukee with a confusingly shaped building

My barber didn’t seem to realize I have curly hair

After a day off in Milwaukee, I left my gracious hosts, Emily and Jared, to begin my longest day of biking so far. I had 100 miles of biking to get to my host, Rory, who lived in one of the large hilly towns past Madison. 

I was grateful for the seemingly never-ending bike path I had been on since Chicago. The gravel made me a little slower, but it was worth it for the carless-ness of the path. After about 40 miles, my knee started to hurt again. This pain began not many days before, but it hadn’t been this intense. Sharp stings  shot up from my knee on every peddle. I would put all of the force on my other leg to help with the pain. Taking breaks and stretching helped abate the internal knee pain only for a minute before it returned after a few peddles. Trying to put the pain to the back of my mind, I kept pushing on—I could rest once I made it to Madison. 

With knee pain inevitably in the front of my mind, I noticed two smaller city bikes laying on the ground on the side of the path. Next to the bikes, a girl with shoulder-length brunette hair and baggy jeans was scrummaging through a bag. As I approached, she ran off, which raised my suspicion. “OH MY GOD. BEEEEEESSS!” she screamed. I quickly dismounted to assess the situation even though I was worried about making it to my host in time. There were a few bees buzzing around her bag.

“We have water, but that’s all we have,” she told me after I asked if I can give her anything. To my right I noticed her friend, a little shorter than her, wading through reeds. They must have been in 5th or 6th grade. The reeds went far above the waist of the girl off the path as she scavenged through the dried-up marsh. 

“What’s going on? Do you need help?” I asked, perplexed by preteens rummaging through reeds miles from a town. 

“Actually, we do. My friend lost her glasses when we were in the reeds,” the brunette admitted. I wasn’t sure if I was more confused by why they were hanging out in reeds or how she lost her glasses. Even though it was midday and clear skies, I offered up my headlamp and bike lights to counteract the shade from the flora. But it was to no avail—after a few minutes of sifting through the dried plants, we gave up the search. 

“I don’t need them to see… well, only sometimes,” the glasses-less girl claimed when I asked if she would be safe getting home.

“Yeah, but your mom’s gonna kill you!” the brunette retorted. 

I said farewell and continued biking after that odd interaction. With the breeze against my face, I noticed the pain in my knee had totally dissipated. I didn’t believe in Karma, but maybe that was Karma. With the knee pain gone, I was able to push ahead and complete my first century—100 miles in one day.