Hit the road from Conneaut, Ohio early Sunday morning. Back to back 100-mile days have left me a little spent, and I'm looking to take it a bit easier today.

Stopped in a small community, Geneva, Ohio. Walked into Mary's diner, which looked really retro from the outside but the red, swirley design on the front counter made me nauseous so I left.

I was consulting my map when an old man and his wife exited the diner and made their way toward their car. "You out riding?" said the old man who was adorable with evergreen work pants pulled up to his chest, small tufts of hair coming out of his ears and he wore white, Velcro tennis shoes. I said I was bicycling back to Milwaukee. "Traveling by yourself?" he asked all happy as he turned to wait for his wife who used a walker with tennis balls on the legs.

The old man, Pete, didn't wait for me to answer and he threw another question my way.

"You been raped yet, while on this trip?" I bit my lower lip. It was like Raggedy Ann just swore. "Well, you know that's out there … I think you've been lucky so far," said Pete who was a cut-to-the-chase kinda guy.

I tried to change the subject and asked Pete how far Cleveland was from Geneva. "You're not going there are you? There's a lot of shootings there, especially on the east side," he said. "It's the 'coloreds,' you know."

In order to retain my thoughts of feeling safe, I had to leave Pete and his sweet wife with the walker. Despite his warning I continued into Cleveland and managed to catch a ride to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It was raining something awful and I deemed the stop a well-deserved break.

The Hall of Fame was well worth it. Some of the highlights included the Les Paul display with an electric guitar from 1915. There was a portion of Otis Redding's plane from when it crashed in 1967 en route from Cleveland to a performance in Madison. Real letters from musicians to Rolling Stone Magazine were interesting. A hand-written note from March 1969 criticized the magazine for not being accurate in a story about groupies. The letter was from Frank Zappa.

Another type written note on yellow, lined legal paper was from March 1982 and photographer Annie Leibovitz outlined her own contract with Rolling Stone. Her last line: "I AM the chief photographer."

There was a big exhibit on The Clash. I thought it funny a boy who was about 10 years old and was secretly using his cell phone to snap a picture of the album cover for "London Calling." No video or snap photography is allowed at the Hall of Fame.

As I was set to leave, it was still rainy and Jim and Debbie, who were also leaving the Rock and Roll exhibit gave me directions on how to get out of Cleveland … and then they made it easy. "Why don't we just throw your bike in our van and we'll drive you to the next town."

PHEW! They gave me a lift safely outside Cleveland and joined me for dinner after touring around Oberlin, Ohio.