July 2, 2010 - Lublin to Zamosc

It was my first breakfast in 4 days without the pleasure of my mom and Marilyn's company and it left me feeling very alone.  All of sudden, without the pleasure of getting driven around and having tour guides and schedules, it was just me and the Chump Steamroller again, alone on the road.

In a fit of pique, I altered my plans again and decided to hit the road for Zamosc.  Everyone I had met who knew the area told me to go see Zamosc: that it was a beautiful town in a beautiful region.


On the way out of Lublin, I ran into a family of French bicycle tourists, doing an enormous 6-month jaunt around most of eastern Europe.  They got me smiling a little bit after all the feeling sorry for myself that I was doing that morning.

Morale started to be an issue for me that day.  I had lost a little bit of steam, and started to have thoughts like "How much would it be to change my ticket?" or "Should I take a train to Greece?"  Through sheer force of will, I shelved these thoughts, Corked It and pushed on with the day.

After a week of rest, the ride was a piece of cake.  However, my diet degraded entirely during my mom's visit and I could feel the pounds of kielbasa and pierogi slowly getting filtered through my pores, like vaseline through a cheesecloth.  Also, my bike continued with it's supremely annoying rear derailleur issues.  I set up shop in a town square and proceeded to spend an hour tinkering with bits of my bike I have no business monkeying around with.

I ended up fixing the problem by eliminating the index shifting and just using friction shifting.  If I had known I could do that, I would've done it two months ago.

Zamosc was indeed a gorgeous town.  It's one of the first completely planned villages, sprung out of the mind of a Renaissance artist and architect.  It was envisioned an enormous center of commerce, government and the military.  Because of this, it was encircled by some of the most daunting fortresses around.  It withstood the Swedish invasion of the 1600's (the only town to do so beside Gdansk and Czestochowa) and withstood the post-Napoleon Russian invasion of the 1800's for 9 MONTHS before finally succumbing due to the mass starvation in the town.

I entered the beautiful main market square after cleaning up and what did I find?

A freaking vintage motorcycle convention!  There were dozens of immaculately restored old bikes being ridden by various gearheads and mechanics.  Everybody had a smile, and I snatched a seat at a pizzeria close by the start of their ride.  They were starting their engines, one-by-one and heading off on some kind of group cruise.

I allocated some budget to the Morale Committee, in order to improve the spirits of the Expedition.  The Budget Committee lodged their usual complaints, but they were eventually shot down by the Large Handlebar Bag, who wanted another beer.  I seconded his motion.