Welcome to the Circadian Cycle -- 125 days of life on the road including pictures, rants, raves, triumphs, biumphs and even regular old umphs! Each daily post finishes up with a running odometer so you can see how I progressed across the country. This blog is pretty unconstitutional ... well, only in that not all posts are created equal. I was new to blogging at the beginning of the trip -- so the early days (up to the thirties) are in general factual, short, ordinary, stiff entries ... but as the trip went on, my tongue got looser and my long-winded-ness got longer ... and windier. Don't believe me? Try scrolling down! So, my advice, if you're new to the blog, is to check out the pictures (especially as I get closer to the West Coast); they paint a pretty clear picture of the trip ... but if you want some of the nitty-gritty good stuff check out some of the more interesting posts highlighted in the gear system below -- mind you, these are not buttons! You've got to do some of the work here, so get scrolling!
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East Coast Bike Dip (Cotuit, Cape Cod, MA)
 Saying Goodbye to the Cape over the Bourne Bridge
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DAY 1: We began our journey on the coast of Cape Cod by dipping our bikes in Atlantic waters and ventured towards the Bourne Bridge. Right off the bat, we encountered problems with our route. We put our trust in Google Bike directions for the first few days before we attached to the Adventure Cycling route -- which proved to be quite a mistake! Google Bike led us on to numerous highways where we clearly were not going to bike. Using our sense of direction (and the help of many locals) we added on about 10 miles to our trip that day to skirt around the bad directions with a scenic tour of the Cranberry Highway. At lunch we chatted with a motorcyclist outside of Dunkin Donuts who was generous to donate to our cause (hope you're reading this and thanks!). With a few more bad directions from Google and unmarked street signs we eventually reached our camp for the night in Foxboro, MA at Normandy Farms. ODOMETER: 70.4 |
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DAY 2: Day two greeted us with 95 degree temperatures, more misdirection from Google, and a few other bumps in the road (or perhaps we should say river!). We made multiple trips around Cranston, RI asking for directions for a bike trail that no one had ever heard of. After navigating for awhile we were headed in the right direction when it started to drizzle -- and then downpour -- and then thunder. Trapped in a thunderstorm, we raced to get undercover at a nearby deli but not before the bike path flooded with inches of water. Roads became nearly impassible. Again with the generosity of locals we were able to get our gear to a nearby motel to spend the night undercover. ODOMETER: 104.6 |
 Flash flooding in RI |
DAY 3:
Oh the joys of Google Bike directions! Day three had us following a hypothetical trail that has yet to be built! We off-roaded with our touring bikes -- essentially hiking up and down dirt moguls for miles. We were quite a sight to see. After an intense day on the trails, we were happy to have a swim in Hopeville Pond State Park, where we also met up with two others with whom we will be traveling across the country.
ODOMETER: 141.8
DAY 4:
In the company of two other riders (Adam and Sara), we decided to ditch the Google Bike directions for that day and splurged on a state map of CT. Mapping our own route proved to be tricky and we ended up with hours and hours of up-and-down steeply sloped hills. Exhausted from the day's terrain, we were ecstatic to run into two cyclists who guided us towards our campground. Unfortunately, there proved to not be enough daylight hours to reach the site. Instead we spent the night under the stars on a river bank in Farmington, CT.
ODOMETER: 214.8
 Tug-boat ferry ride to Cornwall, CT
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DAY 5: The hills from hell continued the next day from Farmington, CT to Millerton NY. We had to hop onto a ferry at one point (powered by a mini-tug boat) to cross into Cornwall, CT whereupon we were met with another intense hill climb. We stopped at a local deli for lunch and chowed down on 4 lb sandwiches to work our strength back up. Somewhere down the winding roads of CT scattered with old farms and barn bridges we stopped at an 'Art and Archery' store which seemed like an odd combination but proved to be quite interesting. We spent the night at Rudd Pond Taconic State Park where we met up with yet another companion to ride with. The five of us completed the night with a great campfire. ODOMETER: 258.8 |
Sunset over Rudd Pond, Taconic State Park
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DAY 6:
Complications arose on day 6 and we had a late start on the trails after a short visit to the local hospital. We cruised along the Harlem Valley Rail trial in the early afternoon and then received some erroneous directions that caused us to do an additional 3 mile loop. After finding our way again we biked through Amenia and had lovely flat trails for once! Hyde Park proved to be a beautiful ride as well. We passed by FDR's museum and the Marist Campus before heading to the Hudson Pedestrian bridge. Although it was great to see the sun set over the Hudson, it was not so great to be so far from our campground as the night closed in. After riding into the sunset and hitting an extremely long detour we realized there still remained 4 more miles to our site -- and it was quite dark. We took a hair-raising hike up the highway -- flashlights in hand -- up to the nearest motel a couple miles down the road. (Don't worry for parents reading this there was a very wide shoulder on the road -- at least we're safe now?!). One might say that it was a great accomplishment to have crossed over the Hudson -- but we would like to think our greatest accomplishment of the day was crossing the street! |
 Crossing over the Hudson |
DAY 7:
The day after our highway excursion had us passing through New Paltz where we spent the morning exploring the laid back, crunchy-granola town. We later passed by a prision in Otisville. After a couple days of being estranged from our group, Isabella and Kathryn rejoined Adam, Anthony and Sarah at the Rockview campground where there was a full blown 4th of July celebration going on for the weekend.
ODOMETER: 363
 Sara, Izzy, and KK entering the land of PA
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DAY 8:
We coasted through the Delaware Water Gap and got some great shots crossing over the bridges. The afternoon brought us 90 degree temperatures and empty waterbottles -- and no where to fill up. We saw the sites of Valley Forge were we had a scare of heat exhaustion (ironic given that Valley Forge is known for its severe cold!). We stretched ourselves thin by biking all the way to Upper Black Eddy, reaching the campground as the last of the day's light disappeared. Even though the site was gravel, we all had no difficulty falling asleep after such a hard day on the trail. ODOMETER: 448.6 |
DAY 9:
We took the next morning slowly to let our legs recover from the lengthy ride of the day before. Sara split early in the morning to get a head start to New Hope to visit a friend and we followed a few hours after. After arriving in New Hope, Sara's friend Andrew showed us the hot local spots for pizza and ice cream. We followed up with a dip in the Delaware River at his favorite rock. Not the cleanest water we've ever been in, but the swim was well worth the wiping off the organic goop afterwards. A short ride over to Andrew's hometown of New Hope and we started up the grill for a great barbeque and spent the night in his converted barn.
ODOMETER: 475.2
DAY 10:
A ride on the Schuylkill River trail eventually brought us to French Creek. After hours in the saddle, nothing was more disheartening then realizing (at dusk) that there were still giant hills to be climbed before reaching the campsite.
ODOMETER: 544.3
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DAY 11:
From French Creek we planned out our ride in order to stay at a campground designated for bikers only. Part way through the ride Anthony stops abruptly "HEY! that's my aunt's house!" -- a few hours, glasses of chocolate milk, fruit (I've got ribs too! Who wants ribs?!) and eggs later, we hit the road again. But before we even reached the campground, a woman pulled up in her car next to us and told us to pop over to an outdoor store and cafe to refuel and talk with the store owner who just recently finished a bike ride. As if the ice cream wasn't enough of a treat, the owner let us camp behind the store so that we would not have a huge hill climb up to the camp (for the second night in a row!). The generosity of strangers continued with a odd turn of events. As we went to "shower" in the Susquhanna River, we got tangled up into conversation with "Chip," a local who was just out fishing with a friend. He offered to take us out on his boat for a dip in better waters, and even hooked us up to go tubing! While out on his boat, we learned from him that the "landmark" we had been seeing for miles on our trip wasn't a local attraction, or natural landmark but was actually a landfill. Gross! ODOMETER: 605.7 |
 Bike Buds |
Tubing on the Sesquahanna
DAY 12:
Since we didn't complete the hillclimb to get to our campsite the night before, it was still standing there to greet us in the morning. Huffing and puffing our way through the afternoon, we were rewarded by a stay at Sara's aunt and uncle's house -- and the opportunity to do laundry!
Odometer: 662.6
Anthony and the man-made pond
DAY 13:
After experiencing the comforts of home -- it was more difficult than normal to mount our bikes in the morning. As the day came to a close, we kept our eyes peeled for a place to camp. A serene-looking, man-made pond caught our eye but it seemed like it was part of someone's property off in the distance. Not to worry -- the owner, Mr. "Smith-or-whatever" was driving by in his truck and told us as long as we didn't make a mess we could pitch our tents on his land. Sweet! ... maybe ... We pitched our tents and got our dinner on but mid-forkful another truck saunters down the lane. This time ... it's the REAL Mr. "Smith-or-whatever" ... same last-name as the guy who had given us permission -- but this guy had NO idea whom we had talked to. SO STRANGE but this guy was equally as nice as the fake, and allowed us to spend the night.
ODOMETER: 725.4
After experiencing the comforts of home -- it was more difficult than normal to mount our bikes in the morning. As the day came to a close, we kept our eyes peeled for a place to camp. A serene-looking, man-made pond caught our eye but it seemed like it was part of someone's property off in the distance. Not to worry -- the owner, Mr. "Smith-or-whatever" was driving by in his truck and told us as long as we didn't make a mess we could pitch our tents on his land. Sweet! ... maybe ... We pitched our tents and got our dinner on but mid-forkful another truck saunters down the lane. This time ... it's the REAL Mr. "Smith-or-whatever" ... same last-name as the guy who had given us permission -- but this guy had NO idea whom we had talked to. SO STRANGE but this guy was equally as nice as the fake, and allowed us to spend the night.
ODOMETER: 725.4
 Defying gravity, no biggie (just making sure you're still awake!) |
DAY 14: The Loss of Isabella
We lost Izzy to an injury and left her with her aunt part way through the day's ride. But fear not -- Kathryn will be continuing on with the cross-country trip, just in different company and following a slightly different route! Instead of continuing on to California, the group will be adding on a few hundred more miles and heading to Oregon. The day of Izzy's departure brought many unexpected events. We passed through the capitol and took the obligitory tourist photos at the Lincoln Memorial. We crossed over the bridge into Alexandria, VA to discover that the city was celebrating it's 261st birthday with a large celebration including a performance by the military band, a 70 piece orchestra, and ... free cake! As fireworks were about to start, and a full salute, we discovered to our dismay that there were no available places to camp nearby (shocker -- no camping in the city?) We scrambled down the trails, headlamps ablaze, rejected a spot under a highway bridge (as it was previously occupied -- oops) and settled stealth camping on the banks of the Potomac ... just in time to see the fireworks across the river -- a spectacular show after a stressful evening. ODOMETER: 766.4 |
DAY 15:
... And then there were 3. The morning after stealth camping on the river bank -- (and I might itch-ily add) on a plethora of ant hills we lost Anthony from the group. While he enjoyed the trip down the coast the long term commitment proved to be too much. The three of us (Adam, Sara, KK) took off towards Fredericksburg on a trail headed to Mt. Vernon. A large chunk of our day was spent biking through what Sara likes to call "Generica" -- lots of strip malls and gas stations that show no indication of what part of the country you're actually in. Midway through the afternoon our Camelbaks and waterbottles ran dry with nowhere to fill up in sight. We happened upon two men doing yard work who happily welcomed us in to fill up on the scorching hot afternoon. When we finally reached our destination of Fredericksburg for the evening we were again astonished by the generosity of strangers. The Virginia Outdoor Center (VOC) let us camp for free!
ODOMETER: 843.6
DAY 16:
On to the TransAmerican Trail! We've already begun to feel the difference between the two routes. Clear signs indicating bike route 76 across Virginia almost eliminated the need for our maps. Everyone along the roads seems to be used to bikers -- the cars drive more carefully around you and people know you're headed across the country. We arrived in Mineral, Virginia where we stayed at a bike-hostel of sorts at the local volunteer fire department. They keep a log of all of the bikers who pass through (where they come from and where they're going).
ODOMETER: 924
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Day 17: The morning sun brought us a new biker companion! With the addition of Owen to our group we left Mineral, VA and passed through Charlottsville by lunchtime. After a lengthy chowdown to get out of the day's heat we stopped at the local bike shop and then headed out to White Hall. We spent the night behind a community center (which had closed down long ago -- but our maps indicated otherwise. Oh well, a night without facilities won't kill us!) In the middle of pitching our tents for the night we were entertained by a lovely lightning show -- and drenched with some not-so-lovely rain. ODOMETER: 994.8 |
 Camping in White Hall, VA |
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The legendary "Cookie Lady"
 Just in case we didn't know...
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DAY 18: A quart of chocolate milk and 2 Virginian biscuit sandwiches under our belts and we're set to tackle the Appalachian Mountains. Taking the first small hillclimb up to Afton we take a break with "the Cookie Lady." We'd been hearing tales of her for the past few days but weren't sure what to expect. A flower lined brick walkway up to her doorstep lead us to a bubbly 80-year-old woman who has taken in cyclists since 1978 and has the paraphernalia to prove it. A four-room building next to her house is the time-capsule of the TransAmerican trail. Every inch of the museum is covered with signed waterbottles, bike gloves, jerseys, and frisbees while the walls are plastered with thousands of thank-you postcards from across the US. As her name suggests -- she has given cookies to over 15,000 cyclists who have passed through on their way up the first mountain. 15,000! Such an incredible and overwhelming place to visit and humbling to hear tales from the Cookie Lady. All fueled up from the sugary treats, we head back out and climb to an elevation of 3200 feet -- ach. After hours of climbing up, we were rewarded with a 20 minute steeply sloping downhill into Vesuvius. We plopped down our tents behind Gertie's restaurant/convenience store, chatted and ate dinner with the local owner and made sure to sign her wall (like the thousands before us) before we hit the hay. ODOMETER: 1040.4 |
Adam, The Cookie Lady! Owen, and Sara
Postcards from the 15,000+ cyclists that stop by the Cookie Lady
This one's for the Cookie Lady's logbook of cyclists passing through VA
Signed water bottles, jerseys, and bike gloves in the Cookie Lady's "museum"
Sara, Adam, and Owen atop the Appalachians
DAY 19:
Two, four, five, four, three, four, three! First there were two, then there were four, then five, then we lost two, picked up another and then lost one again! Owen's knee problems from climbing the Appalachians prevented him from continuing on. We parted ways with him at Gertie's and pressed on to Lexington, VA. Quick stop at the local organic food market so our resident vegan (Sara) could actually eat for the first time in a few days! We were engaged in conversation with the shop owner for a while on the topic of healthcare and how it's impossible for anyone around there to get any. It's one thing to hear about the healthcare gap on the news and quite another to meet a store manager who has slightly too much income for the free clinic but not enough for actual insurance. (Sorry for the political side-track there but the trip is putting a lot into perspective for us!) Passing on from Lexington we headed to Buchanan where every store seemed to be labled incorrectly (the "Grill" was actually a pharmacy and the "Pizza Place" was actually a video store rental). Confusion aside, we took refuge from the 100+ degree day in the local park. We call ahead to Troutville to make sure it's ok to camp in their park and head back on the route after another hour or so. As we're crossing the train tracks en route to Troutville we were stopped by a motorcyclist. We figured this would be another "Where are ya from? Where are ya goin'?" NOPE! It was the manager of the Park coming out to look for us! He knew the distance between where we called from and Troutville and knew we should have been at the Park by then (he figured we were lost -- when in reality we had just taken a long break). We had our own motorcade all the way to Troutville! He led us to the park via a shortcut while fending off traffic for us -- classy treatment! Showers and facilities at the local fire deptartment, free camping at the park and another log book to sign -- just another sign we're on theTransAm!
ODOMETER: 1099.2
Two, four, five, four, three, four, three! First there were two, then there were four, then five, then we lost two, picked up another and then lost one again! Owen's knee problems from climbing the Appalachians prevented him from continuing on. We parted ways with him at Gertie's and pressed on to Lexington, VA. Quick stop at the local organic food market so our resident vegan (Sara) could actually eat for the first time in a few days! We were engaged in conversation with the shop owner for a while on the topic of healthcare and how it's impossible for anyone around there to get any. It's one thing to hear about the healthcare gap on the news and quite another to meet a store manager who has slightly too much income for the free clinic but not enough for actual insurance. (Sorry for the political side-track there but the trip is putting a lot into perspective for us!) Passing on from Lexington we headed to Buchanan where every store seemed to be labled incorrectly (the "Grill" was actually a pharmacy and the "Pizza Place" was actually a video store rental). Confusion aside, we took refuge from the 100+ degree day in the local park. We call ahead to Troutville to make sure it's ok to camp in their park and head back on the route after another hour or so. As we're crossing the train tracks en route to Troutville we were stopped by a motorcyclist. We figured this would be another "Where are ya from? Where are ya goin'?" NOPE! It was the manager of the Park coming out to look for us! He knew the distance between where we called from and Troutville and knew we should have been at the Park by then (he figured we were lost -- when in reality we had just taken a long break). We had our own motorcade all the way to Troutville! He led us to the park via a shortcut while fending off traffic for us -- classy treatment! Showers and facilities at the local fire deptartment, free camping at the park and another log book to sign -- just another sign we're on theTransAm!
ODOMETER: 1099.2
DAY 20:
Hilly climb throughout the morning (because seriously, what else is there?) We stopped for lunch in Catawba where we met English biker David. At the moment he's doing the TransAm west to east BUT he's in the middle of a 5-year world tour and has already cycled Europe, Turkey and India. HOLY COW. But, he does travel a little differently -- when we ran into him he barely had any gear at all -- in exchange for spending all his nights in hotels he gets to travel EXTREMELY light. (HA! sounds nice to me! a little out of my budget ... a LITTLE ... a lot) We had been given the number of a biker host from the Cookie Lady a few days back and had been giving it a shot -- in hopes of staying over tonight, but that didn't pan out. Let's add another 10 miles to the campsite why don't we? Clayton State Park give me a shower, please.
ODOMETER: 1165.5
DAY 21:
Nineteen days in and the group finally needs a light day. We started out the hilly day but when met with a rain storm we took refuge in a truck stop to fuel up on coffee to get through the rest of the day. We decided to end the day early in a nearby town (which appeared to be quite large but for some reason everything was closed! And it wasn't even Sunday!) Another night spent behind the local fire department in the park.
ODOMETER: 1201.8
DAY 22:
Beautiful twists and turns (and challenging hillclimbs and hairpin turns) led us into Damascus where we stopped in town to get GIANT ice creams. We pushed onwards toward Hayder's Gap intending to stay in the hostel on the other side of the mountain. A quick stop at a gas station on the 90+ degree day got us into conversation with the attendant who warned us that we probably wouldn't make it up the hill before dark. With the threat of a thunderstorm we decided to set up camp early just shy of the hillclimb behind Hayder's Gap combined elementary school-senior center-library-park. All settled down for the night, someone (ahem-me!) was awoken in the middle of the night soaked by the thunderstorm (because she was too lazy to put the rainfly on correctly -- A mistake she will be unlikely to make again!)
ODOMETER: 1276
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DAY 23:
Time to finish what we postponed the day before. Hayder's Gap Mountain ... and it was a doozy. 3 miles of uphill with no reprieve had me lugging my fully-loaded 50-60 pound bicycle by foot. I nominated myself president (and only member) of the "hike and bike" club. A rough day at the back of the pack, trudging, cursing and questioning my sanity for going on such a trip all came to an end once we reached the top and had a chance to cruise down the other side. Part way down the hill we ran into two cyclists travelling East from California (little did they know what they were about to get into!) Later on in the day, we biked into another East-bound-biker from Australia. One "all-you-can-eat-pizza" buffet later, and we run into yet another cyclist from the West Coast who regales us with tales of a Unicyclist going across the country, and a family of 5 with matching bicycles doing the same. He also mentioned a guy down the road who has a posh tent setup with air matresses for bikers passing through and will even cook you a baked potato (food!) Excited by the prospect of showers and mattresses in a day or two gave us enough energy to push towards Breaks State Park on the border of Virginia and Kentucky. But of course, the campground was uphill ... and I mean UP. After what felt like a nearly completely vertical climb, we reached the very upscale park (complete with pools, restaurants, a motel, and many giant log cabins) but we opted for a nice patch of dirt in the far reaches of the park. But alas, the fiascos of the day were far from over. Setting up my tent for the night (already agitated from the distance, hills and heat) my tent pole broke for the second time -- rendering it impossible to pitch -- a night under the stars then (and mosquitos ... and did I mention we're in bear country?). ODOMETER: 1329 |
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DAY 24:
We officially entered Kentucky -- and the crazy rumors held true. Mining trucks lined the speedy highways, shoulders were rare and every street had a 2-foot wide rumble strip. And the dogs! We had been warned about the dogs of Kentucky but we weren't sure if the tales were pure hype or what. Bikers passing the other direction advised us on different ways to tackle the pooches from stern yelling, to throwing things at them, to pepper spray (and one Virginian even suggested a shotgun!). One guy we passed said "oh the dogs aren't that bad, I only had one bite onto my tire -- but they're not that bad" ... with that thought in our minds we encountered our first unchained, unfenced dogs and escaped unharmed albeit jarred from the barking. Lunch in the rain at the only food shack around for miles then passed over some fresh pavement where we left our permanent "handprints" on the road (aka picked up some goop on our tires). Stopped off at a hardware store to fix up my tent and was unable to comprehend the thick Kentucky accents. On our way to Hindman to visit the baked potato man, we ran into two bikers from Colorado who gave us the best advice yet on dogs -- just talk to them like they are your own! We cruised into Hindman but potatoes were not in our future. We were unable to get in touch with David the potato man. Dejected after losing the opportunity of a shower, food and a sweet tent set up, we rode off to a school field laden with mosquitos along "Troublesome Creek." It was one of those nights where you know everything happens for a reason -- sure we missed out on the camping opportunity but it just so happened that there was a rip-roarin' bluegrass concert going on at the school and open-mic session that concluded with a bag-piper! All's well that ends well.
ODOMETER: 1395
We officially entered Kentucky -- and the crazy rumors held true. Mining trucks lined the speedy highways, shoulders were rare and every street had a 2-foot wide rumble strip. And the dogs! We had been warned about the dogs of Kentucky but we weren't sure if the tales were pure hype or what. Bikers passing the other direction advised us on different ways to tackle the pooches from stern yelling, to throwing things at them, to pepper spray (and one Virginian even suggested a shotgun!). One guy we passed said "oh the dogs aren't that bad, I only had one bite onto my tire -- but they're not that bad" ... with that thought in our minds we encountered our first unchained, unfenced dogs and escaped unharmed albeit jarred from the barking. Lunch in the rain at the only food shack around for miles then passed over some fresh pavement where we left our permanent "handprints" on the road (aka picked up some goop on our tires). Stopped off at a hardware store to fix up my tent and was unable to comprehend the thick Kentucky accents. On our way to Hindman to visit the baked potato man, we ran into two bikers from Colorado who gave us the best advice yet on dogs -- just talk to them like they are your own! We cruised into Hindman but potatoes were not in our future. We were unable to get in touch with David the potato man. Dejected after losing the opportunity of a shower, food and a sweet tent set up, we rode off to a school field laden with mosquitos along "Troublesome Creek." It was one of those nights where you know everything happens for a reason -- sure we missed out on the camping opportunity but it just so happened that there was a rip-roarin' bluegrass concert going on at the school and open-mic session that concluded with a bag-piper! All's well that ends well.
ODOMETER: 1395
DAY 25:
1500 miles without a single flat -- and then the Law of Averages kicked in. BAM! 3 in one day. Crazy day on the mining highways, trucks, no shoulder, cars going 60+ miles per hour -- the day demanded a lot of focus to stay away from cars but keep enough distance from slamming into the guardrails. Nice downpour in the middle of the day forced us into an early lunch. Back on the road -- my bike feels strange -- it's not going where I steer it and it's leaning to one side. Flat tire. Unload the bike, pump up a new tube and we're back in business. Thump, thump, thump. The tire's not flat again, it's aligned, but now my bike has earned its new nickname "Thumper". Climbing hills feels nearly impossible -- check the tire again. Flat as a pancake. Forgot my tire levers so Sara has to come all the way back down the hill she just climbed to help me out. Placed some cardboard in the crack to keep the next tube from popping (dollar bills also work for anyone wondering -- they have a really high thread count!). New tube in, still thumping so I spend the afternoon walking up hills and coasting down. Stopped off at a food stand -- tried to get some healthy veggies so I ordered broccoli only to find out that all vegetables around here are served fried! Thumper lasted another 30 miles downhill to Boonesville where there was a church set up with a bike pavillion, shower, and table -- a nice safe haven after a bumpy day.
ODOMETER: 1456
Eco Village, Berea, KY (photo from site below)
DAY 26:
Another dewy morning sends us coasting out of the church's biker refuge ... fffduhduhd. No better way to start out the day than with another flat tire! But this time it's Adam's turn. All fixed up, we set out on the road again. After a few feet down the road it's time for Adam's SECOND flat tire of the morning. The culprit for the two was a minuscule metal thread from truck tires that peeled off on the road ... go figure! Later on in the morning we get many warnings from the locals to be careful on the road -- many accidents occur along the fast paced, narrow, winding highway with no shoulder. At the convenience store we have a brief encounter with the funeral director who earlier in the week had to bury a youngster from a car accident on the same road. A weary and cautious ride for us all afternoon led us into Berea for the night. Our original plan of camping out at the fire department was extinguished (ha! ... fire?) with an offer to stay at the SENS house (the ecological community of Berea).
http://www.berea.edu/sens/ecovillage/senshouse/default.asp
Check it out! We took a tour of the EcoVillage and the Ecohouse that is equipped with a solar powered water heater, a composting toilet (ew?), and a UV water filter that allows them to drink the rain water runoff. Four students from Berea College live there throughout the year as part of a 40 hour per week internship. One of the girls we spoke with is in the process of constructing a solar dehydrator, cool! After the house tour, we were allowed to explore the aquaponics center where the fish keep the plants alive and the plants allow the survival of the fish. Very cool place! We also had a chance to explore the town of Berea where we met some ... interesting characters. At the local cafe we spoke with a former student who managed to use his scholarship to Berea to fund a bike tour by writing an essay -- however he also seemed to be spinning a few tall tales about his experiences (all whilst sweeping the same 4 inch square of floor for 2 hours). Truth or not -- he sure was entertaining!
ODOMETER: 1506.6
Another dewy morning sends us coasting out of the church's biker refuge ... fffduhduhd. No better way to start out the day than with another flat tire! But this time it's Adam's turn. All fixed up, we set out on the road again. After a few feet down the road it's time for Adam's SECOND flat tire of the morning. The culprit for the two was a minuscule metal thread from truck tires that peeled off on the road ... go figure! Later on in the morning we get many warnings from the locals to be careful on the road -- many accidents occur along the fast paced, narrow, winding highway with no shoulder. At the convenience store we have a brief encounter with the funeral director who earlier in the week had to bury a youngster from a car accident on the same road. A weary and cautious ride for us all afternoon led us into Berea for the night. Our original plan of camping out at the fire department was extinguished (ha! ... fire?) with an offer to stay at the SENS house (the ecological community of Berea).
http://www.berea.edu/sens/ecovillage/senshouse/default.asp
Check it out! We took a tour of the EcoVillage and the Ecohouse that is equipped with a solar powered water heater, a composting toilet (ew?), and a UV water filter that allows them to drink the rain water runoff. Four students from Berea College live there throughout the year as part of a 40 hour per week internship. One of the girls we spoke with is in the process of constructing a solar dehydrator, cool! After the house tour, we were allowed to explore the aquaponics center where the fish keep the plants alive and the plants allow the survival of the fish. Very cool place! We also had a chance to explore the town of Berea where we met some ... interesting characters. At the local cafe we spoke with a former student who managed to use his scholarship to Berea to fund a bike tour by writing an essay -- however he also seemed to be spinning a few tall tales about his experiences (all whilst sweeping the same 4 inch square of floor for 2 hours). Truth or not -- he sure was entertaining!
ODOMETER: 1506.6
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DAY 27: From Berea to Paintlick (I kid you not) "Thumper" held up to its nickname. A nauseatingly bumpy ride through Lancaster eventually found us in Danville -- with the promise of a bike shop! "Thumper's" diagnosis was an improperly set bead -- an easy fix. We stayed around to chat with the bikeshop owner who had completed many a tour with his son on a tandem bicycle. Leaving the bike shop I felt 40 pounds lighter with a properly pumped-up tire. I was flying through the hills for the rest of the afternoon as the temperature climbed into the upper 90s - low 100s. No shade, swealtering heat, blistering skin -- we decided to end our night early in Springfield (and boy! was that a good decision). We intended on going to the city park to camp for the evening but not before going out to celebrate my 23rd birthday. As we're walking our bikes up to a local restaurant a white pickup truck creeps up alongside us ... dun dun dun dun ... but no, this isn't the beginning of a horror story. The driver of the truck pulled up and asked if we needed a cool dry place to stay for the evening and even a shower if we so desired. Never turning down the opportunity to wash off the stenches of the day we eagerly followed him up the street. "Steve" who owns property around town often offers bikers the chance to stay at an old general store that has been freshly renovated. I hopped into the shower to clean up before the birthday festivities ... little did I know what was going on on the other side of the bathroom door. Clean and refreshed, I walked out into the kitchen to see that Steve had stealthfully dropped by with a pizza, bananas, crackers, 2 gallons of ice cream, and a cheesecake to help us celebrate -- an unforgettable birthday for sure! ODOMETER: 1567.2 |
 really...? |
DAY 28:
105 degree day brought on yet another flat tire for me. The downhill and flat terrain was a welcome sight after days of climbing. We stopped off in Lincoln's birthplace for some good ole country cookin' at Lincoln's Jamboree and waited out the heat of the day listening to live country music outside the restaurant performed by a local church group. We spent the night in Hodgenville city park staring longingly at the public pool that was occupied by a private birthday party.
ODOMETER: 1621.8
Example of the Barn Quilt Trail (photo from site below)
DAY 29:
Slow, hot morning once again and lots of flat terrain. Stopped off at a gas station for a quart of chocolate milk and to listen to a Kentucky local (listen to ... but only understand every 4th word!). Lunch time rolled around, and not too many places were open on the Sunday afternoon. We stopped off at a Mexican restaurant which as we later found out is one of the only places around Kentucky that can boast a liquor license (not that drinking was on our mind mid-bike ride on a Sunday -- but it was the talk of the town). We learned that Kentucky is mostly a dry state but Litchfield is becoming "moist," i.e., a few chosen restaurants of 100+ capacity are allowed to apply for a license. We spent part of the afternoon biking through Amish territory where they were as intrigued by us riding bicycles in tight shorts ... as we were with them in horse-drawn carriages fully clothed from head to toe in black garments (on a 90+ degree day!). We heard from other cyclists passing by that there was a couple that took in bikers about 25 miles away from where we were so we called up to see if they were available for the night. Not only were they available -- but about 20 minutes into the ride a car approaches us. It's Gary here to take all of our gear and lighten our load for the rest of the ride to his house! It felt a little like cheating -- but it also felt a little like ... awesome! With 40 pounds of weight taken off our bikes we flew the rest of the way. Beth had apples and pb&js ready to welcome us upon our arrival. They fed us a terrific feast of potroast and veggies complete with biscuits, brownies, and wine. We bunked for the night in their cabin a few yards from their house where Beth works on a state wide art project. She, along with other volunteers, works to create large paintings of quilts for barns and other buildings that serve as tourist attractions. Apparently this all started when one woman's mother (who was very into quilting) fell ill. Her daught decided to make her more comfortable by painting her mother's favorite quilt on the barn outside her window. Others started to get similar patterns to show off -- and voila! so begins an art spectacle! (I believe Beth said this started in Ohio? and spread across other states -- pretty neat) -- here are examples of the quilt barn trails
http://countrybarnquilttrail.com/barnoftheweek.html
http://www.randesignscustomjewelry.com/history.html
Thanks for the great food (dry bed!) and stories that entertained us through the night -- We'll be watching out for those quilts!
ODOMETER: 1680.6
Slow, hot morning once again and lots of flat terrain. Stopped off at a gas station for a quart of chocolate milk and to listen to a Kentucky local (listen to ... but only understand every 4th word!). Lunch time rolled around, and not too many places were open on the Sunday afternoon. We stopped off at a Mexican restaurant which as we later found out is one of the only places around Kentucky that can boast a liquor license (not that drinking was on our mind mid-bike ride on a Sunday -- but it was the talk of the town). We learned that Kentucky is mostly a dry state but Litchfield is becoming "moist," i.e., a few chosen restaurants of 100+ capacity are allowed to apply for a license. We spent part of the afternoon biking through Amish territory where they were as intrigued by us riding bicycles in tight shorts ... as we were with them in horse-drawn carriages fully clothed from head to toe in black garments (on a 90+ degree day!). We heard from other cyclists passing by that there was a couple that took in bikers about 25 miles away from where we were so we called up to see if they were available for the night. Not only were they available -- but about 20 minutes into the ride a car approaches us. It's Gary here to take all of our gear and lighten our load for the rest of the ride to his house! It felt a little like cheating -- but it also felt a little like ... awesome! With 40 pounds of weight taken off our bikes we flew the rest of the way. Beth had apples and pb&js ready to welcome us upon our arrival. They fed us a terrific feast of potroast and veggies complete with biscuits, brownies, and wine. We bunked for the night in their cabin a few yards from their house where Beth works on a state wide art project. She, along with other volunteers, works to create large paintings of quilts for barns and other buildings that serve as tourist attractions. Apparently this all started when one woman's mother (who was very into quilting) fell ill. Her daught decided to make her more comfortable by painting her mother's favorite quilt on the barn outside her window. Others started to get similar patterns to show off -- and voila! so begins an art spectacle! (I believe Beth said this started in Ohio? and spread across other states -- pretty neat) -- here are examples of the quilt barn trails
http://countrybarnquilttrail.com/barnoftheweek.html
http://www.randesignscustomjewelry.com/history.html
Thanks for the great food (dry bed!) and stories that entertained us through the night -- We'll be watching out for those quilts!
ODOMETER: 1680.6
DAY 30:
Despite the change in time zones -- giving us an extra hour of biking if we so wished -- we lazed around the comforts of home with Beth and Gary for a few of the morning hours. After a hearty breakfast of mushroom-eggs and biscuits we finally headed out. On the ride down the long gravel road leading away from their home we found one of my dirty socks ... a few yards further we found a second ... and then a third. Apparently I must have been concerned that we would get lost finding our way to the route and had left a Hansel-and-Grettle-esque trail for us to follow! We rode to Seebree, Kentucky where a biker hostel was set up in a church basement. Violet and Bob welcomed us with a terrific home cooked meal which we were able to share with 3 other cyclists passing through. Niall, 17, biked solo from San Francisco all the way to Kentucky (where he met up with 2 other guys the night before). He is cycling to raise awareness for the need of clean water in third world countries. Check out his site!
http://pedal4people.webs.com
As I said, he recently ran into two other guys that he will bike with for a while. We heard all about Phil and John's cancer-cure fundraising project over dinner.
http://www.biketowardsthecure.org
Post-feast, the 6 of us played a little volleyball, basketball and kicked around a soccer ball (anything but biking!) We finished up the night in the church basement (turned-game room-hostel) by watching a movie (The Guardian). Hyped up on ice cream and popcorn we had trouble getting to bed early!
ODOMETER: 1749.6
Despite the change in time zones -- giving us an extra hour of biking if we so wished -- we lazed around the comforts of home with Beth and Gary for a few of the morning hours. After a hearty breakfast of mushroom-eggs and biscuits we finally headed out. On the ride down the long gravel road leading away from their home we found one of my dirty socks ... a few yards further we found a second ... and then a third. Apparently I must have been concerned that we would get lost finding our way to the route and had left a Hansel-and-Grettle-esque trail for us to follow! We rode to Seebree, Kentucky where a biker hostel was set up in a church basement. Violet and Bob welcomed us with a terrific home cooked meal which we were able to share with 3 other cyclists passing through. Niall, 17, biked solo from San Francisco all the way to Kentucky (where he met up with 2 other guys the night before). He is cycling to raise awareness for the need of clean water in third world countries. Check out his site!
http://pedal4people.webs.com
As I said, he recently ran into two other guys that he will bike with for a while. We heard all about Phil and John's cancer-cure fundraising project over dinner.
http://www.biketowardsthecure.org
Post-feast, the 6 of us played a little volleyball, basketball and kicked around a soccer ball (anything but biking!) We finished up the night in the church basement (turned-game room-hostel) by watching a movie (The Guardian). Hyped up on ice cream and popcorn we had trouble getting to bed early!
ODOMETER: 1749.6
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DAY 31:
After breakfast with the boys we parted ways, the fellas headed east, and the three of us continued trekking west. We stopped for lunch at the Main St. cafe a few towns over where our server told us to check out the Amish market down the street. So, check it out we did. 10 miles before the ferry across the Ohio river to Illinois, we stopped at the market run by the Amish that carries only expired and dented goods. Across the river we ran into a father-son duo biking IL to VA. 30 miles to go and the light of day is fading. We reach the camp road which had a troublesome fork. Sara took the left side and flew down the road while I sluggishly followed. After 10 minutes I spotted a sign "NO TRESPASSING : PRIVATE PROPERTY" -- I figured no public campground would have that sign (i.e., we must have taken the wrong side of the fork). After yelling to Sara to no avail, I turned around to find Adam and called Sara's phone incessantly. 20 minutes later -- Sara returns -- face ashen. Saralocks and the three bears! At the end of the trail, Sara encountered 3 bear cubs and sprinted away knowing that the presence of cubs usually entails a mother bear. Safely back together as a group we take the other side of the fork to -- a former campground. (it was probably a year or two deserted with no functioning facilities.) I finished up the evening by consuming half a loaf of moldy bread (unaware of its fuzziness without my headlamp). Gross! ODOMETER: 1825.8 |
Let's cross over the Ohio River, shall we?
 Entering Illinois with Abraham Lincoln himself
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DAY 32:
The first ten miles of Eddyville, Illinois were impossibly hilly leaving Sara and me complaining that "Illinois" was making us "ill" and "annoyed." We slowly ticked our way up the roller coaster hills to the top where we immediately plummeted down (only to be faced with a new, equally as awful, hill). We finished up the day at Devil's Kitchen Lake with a bathwater swim in the lake.
ODOMETER: 1875.6
 Visiting Popeye's home in Chester, IL |
DAY 33: We off-routed a bit today to Carbondale so that Sara could pick up a package (too bad we didn't know there were two different post offices!) Adam and I hung out at the local whole-foods market and cafe while Sara biked her way to the other post office. Upon her return she went nuts at the amount of vegan food that was available (Kentucky was a long-veganless-state for Sara). We rode on to Chester, IL (the home of POP-EYE!). We arrived just shy of the Pop-Eye museum hours which really bummed out Adam. We did however, get to see the Pop-Eye murals and statues. We made our way to the Eagles biker bunkhouse for the night where there was a beach volleyball tournament going on behind the restaurant. Later on in the night, Monica (a biker from the west coast riding solo) popped in to stay the night as well. ODOMETER: 1929.6 |
DAY 34:
Short ride to Farmington where we stayed at an old prison that was converted into a cyclist studio apartment hostel called "Al's Place". Very posh accommodations! There were 3 rooms of bunk beds, 2 full bathrooms, a laundry room and a kitchen -- you would never have known it was a prison had it not been for the sign.
ODOMETER: 1978.8
DAY 35:
We woke up the next morning to a surprise on the couch. Joshua, an east-bounder, crashed at the hostel after his late night ride arriving after 11 pm. We left the comforts of prison and started to climb the Ozarks. The day was hot as blazes and by the time we reached Centerville Adam and Sara took off for a swim in the creek while I searched for some shade. The end of the day brought us to Ellington where we intended to stay at the city park. Upon entering the grocery store, however, we notice a sign that boasted "Cyclists welcome!" and a number to follow. We called it up and ended up staying the night with a man who started a fellowship. We passed the evening listening to Herman's childhood stories, enemies he has made due to his beliefs, and tales from the war (quite a ... character).
ODOMETER: 2043
DAY 36:
The hardest part of the Ozarks are over! They were much easier than we had heard (which was a relief). It was more like a range of speed bumps than a mountain range. Herman cooked us breakfast before we headed out for the morning. We took a break in the middle of the day in Eminence (where I got a burger with an extra ingredient - yum hair?). Our day's travels ended us in Houston (Texas county!) Missouri under a pavilion ... infested with cockroaches ... really, really big cockroaches.
ODOMETER: 2107.8
 beating the summer heat ... ? |
DAY 37:
Unbearable heat. It was to the point where I was walking flat road instead of biking. Probably the most humorous part of the day went something like this: (Walking up a hill whilst pushing my loaded bike.) "I hate this, I hate hills, I hate the heat, I can't even walk, I hate that dead, upside-down cow, I hate this heat so much" ... My mind, fogged by the sweltering temperatures barely processed the fact that there was a large black cow, dead and upside-down on the side of the road (but instead I factored it into my day's list of peeves). We eventually made it through the early afternoon heat and decided to wait the rest of the day out in town. Adam took this spare time and looked for a creative outlet -- by carving faces into a watermelon (anything to beat the heat?). By 6pm we were on the road again about 15 miles from our destination. BAM! flat tire, son! The heat of the day and the long ride had already tested my patience ... but this was getting ridiculous. Changing my tire on the side of the road, a man came out of his house with a few bottles of water -- great! ... and paper towel for the sweat -- gee wiz thanks for noticing :) We finally put those 15 miles behind us and camped in Fairview for the night in the city park (complete with showers -- yes!) ODOMETER: 2184 |
DAY 38: A Murphy's Law kind of day
The crew decides to get an early start after yesterday's battle with the heat. A 5:30 AM departure proved to be a bit too early for me so I had the others go ahead by 10 minutes (quite an error that turned out to be). After 5 weeks without a rest day, we planned on taking some time off in Pittsburgh, KS but not before completing our first century ride (100+ miles). Since we all have different paces and food needs, we agreed to go at our own pace for the ride. While Adam and Sara completed their first century -- it was not in the stars for me to do so. Not ten minutes into the ride -- lest I say it -- FLAT TIRE ... I'm on a roll eh? (or not rolling, because it's a flat ...) Since I had replaced my flat tire the night before with a patched tube I wasn't surprised to get another (figured I had botched the patch-job). So I unloaded my bike, whipped out another tube, changed it, loaded up my bike, got back in the saddle ... ffffffst. Didn't even take a pedal before I knew I had another flat. This time I checked the tire itself for a crack, but nothing seemed amiss (maybe something small so I used the cardboard trick again). Assuming I had pinched the tube when replacing it, I popped another one in and was on my way. Up some hills, down some slopes my bike and I actually made it a few miles, but that didn't last long. Hello flat tire number 3, nice to meet you! Fed up at this point (only having gone 6-8 miles, temperature rising, and wasted the early hours that I woke up at 5 for) I wedged the popped tube out. The flat tire from the night before, and the 3 tubes from the flats today left me with ... no tubes to replace this one. So! what to do, what to do. I pulled out my patch kit in the sweltering heat, and got to work patching tubes and waiting for glue to dry -- I'm about 2 hours behind the others at this point. As I'm patching, I notice that they are all punctured in the same spot (but the tire has no crack?). I felt around and felt a finger prick -- the darn metal threads from truck tires again! After finding the culprit I was able to bike freely for the rest of the day ... the heat however was another story altogether. Another day with heat exhaustion brought my first experience with heat delusions and seeing the cliche oasis. Late in the afternoon, after having to walk in the heat, sick of drinking boiling hot water, I spotted a convenience store in the middle of nowhere. TERRIFIC! I can get something cold to drink. That store ... was definitely not there -- i'm delusional. A few miles up the road however was a lawnmower and tractor store in the middle of nowhere ... and they DID have cold drinks. I finally pulled into Golden City around dinner time and called the others to tell them I couldn't possibly make it another 30 miles to Pittsburgh after being outside all day, not having eaten. I went to Cooky's Cafe, which they recommended (they ate lunch there -- to show how far behind I had gotten) which is famous in the state for its delicious pie! I camped by myself that night in the city park while the other two would wait for me in Pitt during the "rest day."
ODOMETER: 2250
covered in grease after changing a ridiculous number of flat tires
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DAY 39:
Heading out to catch up with the rest of the crew. The morning manager of Cooky's Cafe sent me off with breakfast on the house for having a rough 24 hours (something good came out of flat tires -- eggs!) In a better mood I set off to catch up with the rest of the crew and Sara assured me the 30 miles necessary to meet up were a breeze that took them less than 3 hours to bike. I, however, found them not to be a "breeze" per se, but a horrendous gust ... Biking the same 30 miles at a different time of day gave me a stupendous headwind that resulted in the ride taking almost 5 hours! I finally crossed the border into Kansas and arrived in Pittsburgh in the early afternoon (but not early enough to catch a movie with the group -- guess I will have to wait to see "Inception"). We camped out in the city park where there was quite a gathering of people practicing for a quincinera -- roudy, energetic group! ODOMETER: 2283 |
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DAY 40:
Crazy thunderstorm over night. But a thunderstorm in Kansas was a new experience. Since there is nothing around to buffer the thunder -- no mountains, no trees -- the thunder just seems to roll on forever, echoing across the vast landscape. Well-rested from their day off, Adam and Sara were raring to get back on the road, I however was still exhausted so I decided to stay behind in Pitt for the morning and head to the bike shop to get some fresh tubes and a new patch kit. I spent the early afternoon chatting with a local Prof from Pitt Univ about his travels through Europe -- he even picked up the tab at the end of the meal -- paying it forward as so many had done for him throughout his touring. After bumming around Pitt for awhile, I got antsy and decided to cut my rest day short and hit a short ride to Girard. New to the flatlands of KS, I went a lot faster than I expected, so I continued on to Walnut Grove. Arriving at sundown I went to check in with the police as our map indicated to camp in the town park. I wandered around for 15 or so minutes in the town that seemed to only have a post office and a bar and finally a truck passed by. They informed me that the police station was actually back in Girard! but pointed me to the city park and warned me against the "restrooms" available there. After a nice attack dog chased me, I finally got to the park and immediately turned back towards the bar once I saw the bathroom ... perhaps last cleaned in 1938 ... Had to suck up my pride to walk into the bar in my bikeshorts and crocks, covered in bike grease to use the bathroom. Classy.
ODOMETER: 2315
Crazy thunderstorm over night. But a thunderstorm in Kansas was a new experience. Since there is nothing around to buffer the thunder -- no mountains, no trees -- the thunder just seems to roll on forever, echoing across the vast landscape. Well-rested from their day off, Adam and Sara were raring to get back on the road, I however was still exhausted so I decided to stay behind in Pitt for the morning and head to the bike shop to get some fresh tubes and a new patch kit. I spent the early afternoon chatting with a local Prof from Pitt Univ about his travels through Europe -- he even picked up the tab at the end of the meal -- paying it forward as so many had done for him throughout his touring. After bumming around Pitt for awhile, I got antsy and decided to cut my rest day short and hit a short ride to Girard. New to the flatlands of KS, I went a lot faster than I expected, so I continued on to Walnut Grove. Arriving at sundown I went to check in with the police as our map indicated to camp in the town park. I wandered around for 15 or so minutes in the town that seemed to only have a post office and a bar and finally a truck passed by. They informed me that the police station was actually back in Girard! but pointed me to the city park and warned me against the "restrooms" available there. After a nice attack dog chased me, I finally got to the park and immediately turned back towards the bar once I saw the bathroom ... perhaps last cleaned in 1938 ... Had to suck up my pride to walk into the bar in my bikeshorts and crocks, covered in bike grease to use the bathroom. Classy.
ODOMETER: 2315
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DAY 41: Tried to wake up early to catch up with Sara and Adam -- 4:00 AM was a tad too dark to continue biking, however. On the way from Walnut to Chanute there was a lovely road closing causing a bit of confusion and a long detour. Stopped in Toronto for lunch at the only market in town. Don, the owner, happened upon the shop only 6 months ago. An old Navy buddy told him about some property in Toronto (and Don, thinking his friend was speaking of Canada -- jumped at the opportunity! oops) Don made the best of the small market and is working on introducing new foods to the small town (he told me the first few weeks he ended up having to eat all the fruits and veggies, the locals weren't used to such foods!) Tried to push on towards Cassoday, but it got much too hilly so I stopped early in Rosalia -- with no camping listed I ran into a local shop where the owner said to try the church next door or the community center. The church was closed, so I started unpacking my bike at the comm center -- just a few minutes into doing so a woman from down the street grabbed me up after her husband saw me and unlocked the basement of the church for me -- woohoo a dry place to sleep. ODOMETER: 2419.5 |
 The Kansas road...the ONLY road |
 It's hard to ride by these guys after my lesson in cattle herding, yeesh |
DAY 42:
Rosalia to Cassoday was a breeze. Stopped for a short coffee break where all of the cattle trucks seemed to congregate. The owner then went on to explain the cattle business. Farmers get the cattle and feed them for a month, two at max, then call up a cattle truck. Early morning transport is ideal because the farmers can feed them right before they get on the truck and they don't have much chance to run off the calories. It's a very quiet and peaceful process, so as to not spook the cows (and cause them to lose weight). The cows get weighed right before loading and the farmers get paid by the pound. After learning all of this, it was hard to look at the tagged cows for the rest of the day. From Cassoday to Newton was a 38 mile ride with no services on a straight road -- so I had no need to be looking at the map. More than half way there, however, I looked down to see that my map was GONE. How annoying -- I had to double back a few miles before I found it floating down the street. Finally made it to Newton where a local told me I could make up some time by taking route 50. Hair raising ride along a gravel shoulder with trucks doing 70 but I finally made it to Hutchinson. The uncomfortable ride was definitely worth it, because I made it to a church bike hostel that had queen sized beds and a flat screen tv -- what a luxury! ODOMETER: 2507.5 |
DAY 43:
Hutchinson up to Nickerson stopped for a break before a 58 mile stretch with no shade or services. The first 30 miles of which were an uncomfortable loose gravel stretch. With the temperatures over 105 degrees I thought I was doing pretty well until I got to within one mile of Larned. I had been seeing the city for miles but it just didn't seem to be getting any closer. With only a mile left to go -- the heat completely took me over. I sat down by the side of the road (surely a sign that I was in bad health that I stopped with so little left to travel). A concerned mother popped by and tossed me some water. A few minutes later I thought I would just walk the rest but made it only a couple feet before a woman in a truck came by exclaiming "get your ass out of this heat it's a 111 degrees!" So with that being said, she popped my bike in her truckbed and plopped my heat-exhausted body into the cab and drove me the one mile into town. Ah! Cheated one mile! Went to the pool to cool off and camped for the night in Larned city park.
ODOMETER: 2575
Hutchinson up to Nickerson stopped for a break before a 58 mile stretch with no shade or services. The first 30 miles of which were an uncomfortable loose gravel stretch. With the temperatures over 105 degrees I thought I was doing pretty well until I got to within one mile of Larned. I had been seeing the city for miles but it just didn't seem to be getting any closer. With only a mile left to go -- the heat completely took me over. I sat down by the side of the road (surely a sign that I was in bad health that I stopped with so little left to travel). A concerned mother popped by and tossed me some water. A few minutes later I thought I would just walk the rest but made it only a couple feet before a woman in a truck came by exclaiming "get your ass out of this heat it's a 111 degrees!" So with that being said, she popped my bike in her truckbed and plopped my heat-exhausted body into the cab and drove me the one mile into town. Ah! Cheated one mile! Went to the pool to cool off and camped for the night in Larned city park.
ODOMETER: 2575
DAY 44: Lightning!
Larned to Rush Center was a zippy 30 miles. Pushed on to Alexander which only had a restroom stop and a car shop. Too hot to keep moving, I slept behind the reststop and contemplated a night time ride. Began riding again around 6:30PM. Around 11 PM I'm 22.5 miles from the next town -- and the lightning begins. If I hadn't been right in the middle of it, it would have been one of the most awe inspiring, beautiful sights. Lightning from every direction, all along the horizon -- a dome of flashing lights. Gorgeous, right? Well, when you're the highest point in Kansas, with no hope of cover -- on a metal bike ... nature's beauty is the LAST thing on your mind. Let's just say that was the fastest I've ever ridden 20 miles. Pulled into Beeler (a "town" with only an oil building, and a church) I promptly pitched my tent behind the church and crossed my fingers that I wouldn't be struck by lightning.
ODOMETER: 2654.5
Larned to Rush Center was a zippy 30 miles. Pushed on to Alexander which only had a restroom stop and a car shop. Too hot to keep moving, I slept behind the reststop and contemplated a night time ride. Began riding again around 6:30PM. Around 11 PM I'm 22.5 miles from the next town -- and the lightning begins. If I hadn't been right in the middle of it, it would have been one of the most awe inspiring, beautiful sights. Lightning from every direction, all along the horizon -- a dome of flashing lights. Gorgeous, right? Well, when you're the highest point in Kansas, with no hope of cover -- on a metal bike ... nature's beauty is the LAST thing on your mind. Let's just say that was the fastest I've ever ridden 20 miles. Pulled into Beeler (a "town" with only an oil building, and a church) I promptly pitched my tent behind the church and crossed my fingers that I wouldn't be struck by lightning.
ODOMETER: 2654.5
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DAY 45:
It was a groggy ride from Beeler to Dighton the next morning after the frightening thunder bike of the night before. Escaped the afternoon heat by napping in Leoti's city park. Finally crossed the border into Colorado -- no more Kansas! The ride through the early parts of CO had crickets spewing from every direction (attaching to my legs, and smacking against my panniers -- weird) Tried to get to Sheridan Lake but couldn't seem to find the town, so I pitched my tent in any ole place for the night -- super buggy in CO, yuck. ODOMETER: 2770 |
No thank you Kansas, no thank you
 Not Kansas....FINALLY
|
DAY 46:
Finally reached Sheridan Lake, apparently I hadn't biked quite far enough the night before. Stopped in Eads to grab a bite to eat and left a flyer for any bikers that might be passing through -- biking solo was losing its appeal. Made it to Haswell city park for the night -- whose population has dropped from 300 + to less than 60 in the past couple years. The only residents who remain are those who grew up there explained the service station owner, there's nothing to keep the young people there. (I would have to agree!)
ODOMETER: 2821.5
Finally reached Sheridan Lake, apparently I hadn't biked quite far enough the night before. Stopped in Eads to grab a bite to eat and left a flyer for any bikers that might be passing through -- biking solo was losing its appeal. Made it to Haswell city park for the night -- whose population has dropped from 300 + to less than 60 in the past couple years. The only residents who remain are those who grew up there explained the service station owner, there's nothing to keep the young people there. (I would have to agree!)
ODOMETER: 2821.5
 Ordway, Co traveler's RV set up by some awesome folks...woke up to the sound of ducks and a goat staring through the window. amazing. |
DAY 47:
Haswell to Ordway was a trek lined with old Union Pacific trains. I told myself that I could take a break at the end of the line of trains -- hoboy was that a bad call! Miles and miles and miles of trains, I've never seen so many. The locals are discouraged by the train "scenery" as they remain there in "storage" indefinitely. I decided to off-route to my brother's place in Denver but needed to figure out a plan to get there -- unfortunately the library didn't open until 3 PM and by the time I figure out a new route -- it was too late to continue on. I'm so glad that I decided to stay in Ordway that night -- probably one of the coolest places I've stayed during the trip. Gillian, a retired prison worker, owns a huge plot of land, a house and a few RVs that she opens up to bikers. Because she doesn't live in a huge city with crazy taxes, she can spend time flying, sailing, and hosting work exchanges (kids who got off track can do a little work in exchange for a place to stay and a chance to learn to swim/fly etc). Pretty cool. Henry -- who lives in the RV next to the one open for cyclists, took me on a tour of the property which opened up to a view of the Rockies in the back yard. I was so pooped from the heat that I missed out on the meteor shower that night -- but still had a great stay. ODOMETER: 2861 |
DAY 48:
And so begins the off-route experience to my brother's house. 70 miles with NOTHING, excellent. Pretty uneventful ride, ending in Rush where I slept behind a church.
ODOMETER: 2928.6
And so begins the off-route experience to my brother's house. 70 miles with NOTHING, excellent. Pretty uneventful ride, ending in Rush where I slept behind a church.
ODOMETER: 2928.6
Colorado is infinitely more fun to bike than Kansas...off to Colorado Springs!
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DAY 49: From Rush, I was supposed to turn up towards Denver -- it was a great ride downhill with the Rockies in view the whole day. When I came to the road to split off towards Denver I noticed it was only a few more miles to Colorado Springs. Not in any sort of rush, I decided that it would be neat to visit Colorado College (where I spent my freshman year). Taking a detour from my detour I stopped in the Springs for lunch and meandered my way back to the school where I visited the old French House -- my freshman year dorm. Back on the road for only a few minutes and I run into "La Casita" -- a restaurant I had been raving about since Kentucky -- but had no idea I would actually run into it. Even though I had just eaten lunch -- I impulse bought a dozen freshly made flour tortillas sooo good. After calling my sister up to brag about happening upon La Casita she recommended that I stay in the Springs with her old college buddy -- so that's exactly what I did. We hit up a local comedy club for the night then back to her place to sleep -- or nap? Since it was a Saturday night -- the roommates popped back home at random times into the early morning -- not a ton of sleep to be had but a restful evening nonetheless -- and a comedy show worth a few chuckles. ODOMETER: 2971.5 |
 I'll admit...it was a little weird to be able to ride up to my freshman year dorm at CC -- a trek that ordinarily involved a 4 hour plane ride. Voila, La Maison Francaise |
DAY 50:
Left the Springs around 11 (the ominous black clouds made it difficult to get going). The ride to Centennial was ALL downhill -- 30 mph for a large chunk of the ride -- glorious! Reached my brother's house in the early evening, with the place to myself while he (David) and his wife (Allison) were at a wedding. Popped in his truck to get some groceries (and put on my helmet as a reflex before I got into it -- ugh). Driving a huge truck after being on a bicycle for almost 2 months was quite an experience ... it took me a few minutes before I could let myself do more than 15 mph. Finally made it to the store after a few honks and managed to get the tank into a parking space -- immaculately parked, I must admit, for never having driven something so huge!
ODOMETER: 3030.9
Left the Springs around 11 (the ominous black clouds made it difficult to get going). The ride to Centennial was ALL downhill -- 30 mph for a large chunk of the ride -- glorious! Reached my brother's house in the early evening, with the place to myself while he (David) and his wife (Allison) were at a wedding. Popped in his truck to get some groceries (and put on my helmet as a reflex before I got into it -- ugh). Driving a huge truck after being on a bicycle for almost 2 months was quite an experience ... it took me a few minutes before I could let myself do more than 15 mph. Finally made it to the store after a few honks and managed to get the tank into a parking space -- immaculately parked, I must admit, for never having driven something so huge!
ODOMETER: 3030.9
DAY 51-52:
Spent a lot of time relaxing, reading and watching tv until David and Allison returned from the wedding. It was great to finally see some familiar faces after being gone for 2 months. Took a trip out to the White Fence Farm for a family style dinner -- good ole fried chicken and corn fritters -- with family friend Ingrid. After dinner we grabbed some dessert and watched some folks in country garb get down to some square dancing.
Catching up with family at the White Fence Farm -- photo burglar in the background!
DAY 53:
Perhaps it is time to explain why I've slowed down instead of trying to catch up with Sara and Adam. A few days back I got in touch with Dan from Indiana through the Adventure Cycling Association, who was pumped about getting out on his bike and doing some touring. With just a few days notice he bought a train ticket out to Denver (which is why I decided to off-route to my brother's -- thanks for living in a convenient place bro!) So after a nice break at his house, I went to the train station to pick up Dan -- who had a friend in tow. Apparently while Dan was out and about before he left Indiana, he ran into Chris (who within hours grabbed up a train ticket as well) -- hello spur of the moment decisions! The guys spent the day at the house readying their bikes -- stoked to get on the road the next morning. We took our first ride together -- all 3 miles to the bike and grocery store and back.
ODOMETER: 3033.9
The new crew! Colorado to Oregon here we go!
DAY 54:
The trio set out on their first ride together along side route 470 on Colorado's amazing bike trails (not exaggerating here -- if you're really into biking, Colorado is the place to go -- miles and miles of paved, quiet trails). This is Chris's first time out on a long ride -- and he kicked my butt -- but speed aside, these guys are proving to be great travel companions. They won't, however, stop hassling me about how loaded my bike is -- they both have 2 panniers, whereas I have 4. They also opted not to bring tents ... they may be laughing now, but I'll have the last laugh when the temperatures start to drop :). After a gorgeous afternoon we pulled into Lafayette looking for a place to camp. Along the trails we ran into Clint and Alisa who assured us that "the only place to camp around here is our yard!" So after stopping by the farmers market we set up camp in their yard alongside an awesome plastic play castle (which sadly Dan and Chris couldn't fit in to sleep -- not for lack of trying!) We chilled out with Clint and Alisa and their two girls, Bri and Adison, had a little wine and tried out Alisa's homemade peach sorbet (made from fresh peaches from their yard --- sooo delicious). Thanks again for taking us in, Clint and Alisa -- it was great hanging out with all of you!
ODOMETER: 3091
The trio set out on their first ride together along side route 470 on Colorado's amazing bike trails (not exaggerating here -- if you're really into biking, Colorado is the place to go -- miles and miles of paved, quiet trails). This is Chris's first time out on a long ride -- and he kicked my butt -- but speed aside, these guys are proving to be great travel companions. They won't, however, stop hassling me about how loaded my bike is -- they both have 2 panniers, whereas I have 4. They also opted not to bring tents ... they may be laughing now, but I'll have the last laugh when the temperatures start to drop :). After a gorgeous afternoon we pulled into Lafayette looking for a place to camp. Along the trails we ran into Clint and Alisa who assured us that "the only place to camp around here is our yard!" So after stopping by the farmers market we set up camp in their yard alongside an awesome plastic play castle (which sadly Dan and Chris couldn't fit in to sleep -- not for lack of trying!) We chilled out with Clint and Alisa and their two girls, Bri and Adison, had a little wine and tried out Alisa's homemade peach sorbet (made from fresh peaches from their yard --- sooo delicious). Thanks again for taking us in, Clint and Alisa -- it was great hanging out with all of you!
ODOMETER: 3091
Snack break somewhere in Colorado woopie!
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DAY 55:
Got spooked when the milk man stopped by in the middle of the night to drop off the week's dairy -- I'm not sure who was more startled but I'm betting the milk man wasn't expecting to see 3 grubby kids sleeping on Clint and Alisa's porch. We set off later that morning for Fort Collins and took refuge from the heat at a garden shop (getting creative are we?). We hit up the New Belgium Brewery for a tour of the cyclist-inspired beer company. Any of you had "Fat Tire" before? The guy who started the brewery cycled around on his mountain bike (caracterized by its "fat-tires" if you will) trying to come up with the best beer to drink after a ride and that's how he came up with Fat Tire -- interesting eh? After the tour we ran into a couple of guys who offered up their yard to camp in after the concert. Good timing on our part I guess -- Fort Collins was having this huge festival -- lots of street performers and a Flobots concert. (The guys were super excited by this, but I've never heard of them.) We got a bit separated at the show and I got stuck outside the action because the police set up a blockade. (They were worried about a stampede!) One guy (who had put back a few too many) was too impatient to wait and got into a fight with the policeman -- I may not have gotten to see the concert but I still had some entertainment. We lost track of the guys who offered up their yard, but luckily we ran into another couple biking away from the show who were pumped to hang out for the night (and even give us showers woop!) ODOMETER: 3139 |
 Visit to the Cyclist inspired New Belgium Brewery in Fort Collins, CO  Rim chandeliers, sweet! |
Poudre Canyon, Co ... tight squeeze, but worth the view
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 DAY 57:
Not even joking -- 3 mph up Cameron's pass ... for hours. Good news -- if you for some reason missed the scenery -- that tree, that rock, that goat was still right there if you looked up 10 minutes later. Hill climbs in the summer heat -- not the most pleasurable experience. We escaped into the shade of a giant rock pile. Possible heat exhaustion? Below, "Dr." Chris checks the vitals... |
Hill climbs in the summer heat...'Doctor' Chris checks the vitals
After an exhausting morning we reached the top of Cameron's Pass at an elevation of 10,276 feet ... but I was determined to make it up to 10,277 so I climbed up my bike too! A nice downhill cruise awaited us. 9 miles in 20 minutes, you do the math. We arrived in Walden in a rainy mess and camped at the city park in Walden -- warned by the sheriff of the morning sprinkler system we slept in the gazebo. Chris and I went on an excursion through town and tried to strap massive cups of ice cream on our bikes to bring back to Dan ... there may or may not have been a spill but a little extra dirt in ice cream never killed anyone.
ODOMETER: 3266.2
ODOMETER: 3266.2
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DAY 58: We split up for the day as Chris rushed off to get into cell service range for a phone interview so I crossed into Wyoming alone. A family of three needed proof that they were crossing into Colorado, and I felt the same going into WY so we picture swapped. Met up with the boys in Riverside, stopped for a bite to eat and biked together into Saratoga. We heard there was a natural hot pool in town so we stopped by this "hobo pool" as they call it for a dip to get rid of our biker stench. I'd been getting chills all day and by this point was feeling awful, so instead of continuing on, we spent the night in the park in back of the hot spring ... and boyyy did we regret that decision. ODOMETER: 3335.2 |
 Crossing into Wyoming solo |
DAY 59-60:
A torrential downpour woke us up during the wee hours of the morning. A rythmic rainstorm ... a storm that seemed to produce rain only every 30 seconds ... start stop start stop ... tsssss tststs tssss. After a few minutes in a groggy stupor, we realized that we had managed to plant ourselves on top of the sprinkler system (bet the boys were wishing they had a tent now!) There wasn't much we could do but wait out the lawn watering. After the night's rest we awoke to find all of our clothing we laid out to dry had been laid out to ... soak. Despite having a raincover on my bags, I had 3 inches of water at the bottom, likewise in my shoes! After wringing out our clothes we set off towards Rawlins -- being slower, I left ahead of the other two with a plan to meet up for lunch in Walcott. But hey, when do plans ever work out right? I waited around the gas-station town of Walcott for almost an hour before I called the duo. Dan answered from a truck on I-80 ... Chris had broken a few spokes and was incapable of riding so they were hitching a ride to the Rawlins bike shop. This left me to continue biking on I-80 solo -- woo interstates! By the time I reached Rawlins I had a full blown fever and was dismayed by the news that the boys would be hitching to Lander because the parts were unavailable in Rawlins. Shivering in a cold sweat I made it up to Westernhills campground after parting ways with Dan and Chris where I would spend the next 2 days fighting a nasty fever.
ODOMETER: 3378.7
A torrential downpour woke us up during the wee hours of the morning. A rythmic rainstorm ... a storm that seemed to produce rain only every 30 seconds ... start stop start stop ... tsssss tststs tssss. After a few minutes in a groggy stupor, we realized that we had managed to plant ourselves on top of the sprinkler system (bet the boys were wishing they had a tent now!) There wasn't much we could do but wait out the lawn watering. After the night's rest we awoke to find all of our clothing we laid out to dry had been laid out to ... soak. Despite having a raincover on my bags, I had 3 inches of water at the bottom, likewise in my shoes! After wringing out our clothes we set off towards Rawlins -- being slower, I left ahead of the other two with a plan to meet up for lunch in Walcott. But hey, when do plans ever work out right? I waited around the gas-station town of Walcott for almost an hour before I called the duo. Dan answered from a truck on I-80 ... Chris had broken a few spokes and was incapable of riding so they were hitching a ride to the Rawlins bike shop. This left me to continue biking on I-80 solo -- woo interstates! By the time I reached Rawlins I had a full blown fever and was dismayed by the news that the boys would be hitching to Lander because the parts were unavailable in Rawlins. Shivering in a cold sweat I made it up to Westernhills campground after parting ways with Dan and Chris where I would spend the next 2 days fighting a nasty fever.
ODOMETER: 3378.7
dusk camera play
DAY 61:
Still feeling very sick, I headed back on the road (not wanting to get too far behind the boys who had hitched to Lander for bike parts). I barely made it to Lamont where my map assured me there was opportunity to camp behind Grandma's Cafe (sounds quaint eh?). Well I pulled into "town" ... which turned out to consist ONLY of Grandma's Cafe (which appeared deserted and rundown) and a house. Nobody was around and the cafe was closed. I planted myself behind the cafe amidst construction/metal pieces near a picnic table. After setting up my tent the first form of life in the town appeared. Travis, who works at an oil rig nearby stopped by to introduce himself and invite me to hang out and eat some steak with his buddies who had just gotten off work. I hesitated at first ... sick girl biking across the country stops in deserted town to hang out with some oil drillers ... sounds like the perfect plot for a "lifetime" movie. Since there wasn't another town for miles and I would be spending the night there no matter what, I figured I might as well get to know these guys. I learned quite a bit about drilling (lots of terminology that I've already forgotten) and by the end of the night was full of horror stories about people losing fingers on the rig. In fact, earlier in the afternoon one of the guys dropped from the rig 70 feet in the air, but due to experience and quick thinking he was able to save himself from disaster -- holy cow. Full of steak, stories (and a cool drillbit keychain to remember them by) I headed off to sleep.
ODOMETER: 3411.7
climbing climbing climbing
DAY 62:
By the oil drillers' standards, I slept in. They were already up and on their way to the rig by 4 AM. I had a different kind of work ahead of me that day. Thanks to the lovely "breeze" of Wyoming, it took me 6 hours to go 33 miles. Granted, I was still feeling sick, but the wind made the ride unbearable. All I wanted to do was get inside. The only thing that kept me going those last few miles was promising to splurge on a cheap motel to get out of the elements. But in the town of Jeffery City -- this was out of the question. It looked like at one time it had been a hoppin' town of bars, shops and a bowling alley. But now, everything is rundown and closed (including their one motel -- grah!) I biked to the cafe, the only place open ... and wouldn't you know it in that few hundred feet. FLAT TIRE. Thank you Wyoming! After scarfing down dinner with a grumpy waitress who barely grunted in my direction -- I headed over to rest my weary bones at the Lion's Club Park -- which sported a lovely, dysfunctional outhouse.
ODOMETER: 3444.7
By the oil drillers' standards, I slept in. They were already up and on their way to the rig by 4 AM. I had a different kind of work ahead of me that day. Thanks to the lovely "breeze" of Wyoming, it took me 6 hours to go 33 miles. Granted, I was still feeling sick, but the wind made the ride unbearable. All I wanted to do was get inside. The only thing that kept me going those last few miles was promising to splurge on a cheap motel to get out of the elements. But in the town of Jeffery City -- this was out of the question. It looked like at one time it had been a hoppin' town of bars, shops and a bowling alley. But now, everything is rundown and closed (including their one motel -- grah!) I biked to the cafe, the only place open ... and wouldn't you know it in that few hundred feet. FLAT TIRE. Thank you Wyoming! After scarfing down dinner with a grumpy waitress who barely grunted in my direction -- I headed over to rest my weary bones at the Lion's Club Park -- which sported a lovely, dysfunctional outhouse.
ODOMETER: 3444.7
DAY 63:
Jeffery City wasn't all that awful and the cafe redeemed itself in the morning when I went to get coffee and was greeted by a very friendly waitress. But it was time to leave this rundown town so I cycled off in hopes of reaching Lander (and the boys!). However, I stopped for a break at Sweetwater station and it started to drizzle. I figured I wasn't in any rush so I would wait out this little rainstorm. Well, it turned into a 2 hour thunder storm with a few strikes very close by. I passed those hours in the small reststop with 2 hitch hikers from NY. One of them had already hitched from NY to CA and back and was now headed back to CA with his girlfriend and dog -- all the while playing guitar to earn some money. I was astonished to learn that he was making up to $200/day playing the same three chords ... on an out-of-tune guitar. The storm passed and I was excited for the long descent into Lander. I start picking up speed ... 20mph ... 25 ... 30 ... 35mph when all of a sudden the sheriff comes whizzing by. A finger points out the window and "YOU! over!" and I thought to myself "What the hell? Am I speeding? Am I going to get a ticket?" It turns out that the boys called the police when they hadn't heard from me in a few days (no cell service). The cafe told the police that I had left a long time ago and should have reached Lander already (but the storm held me up). The last the boys had heard from me was that I was chowing down on steak in the middle of nowhere with oil drillers ... Glad to know they are looking out for me! The sheriff offered me a ride into Lander, but not wanting to cheat, I declined and continued to bike. Not 20 minutes later, the heavens opened up and I was caught in a terrifying lightning storm with no cover for 30 miles. Let the cheating commence! I flagged down the next RV and hitched the rest of the way into Lander. It ain't cheatin' if it's for safety right?
ODOMETER: 3502.7
image credits: http://www.animationlibrary.com/animation/29154/Speeding_ticket_2/
Jeffery City wasn't all that awful and the cafe redeemed itself in the morning when I went to get coffee and was greeted by a very friendly waitress. But it was time to leave this rundown town so I cycled off in hopes of reaching Lander (and the boys!). However, I stopped for a break at Sweetwater station and it started to drizzle. I figured I wasn't in any rush so I would wait out this little rainstorm. Well, it turned into a 2 hour thunder storm with a few strikes very close by. I passed those hours in the small reststop with 2 hitch hikers from NY. One of them had already hitched from NY to CA and back and was now headed back to CA with his girlfriend and dog -- all the while playing guitar to earn some money. I was astonished to learn that he was making up to $200/day playing the same three chords ... on an out-of-tune guitar. The storm passed and I was excited for the long descent into Lander. I start picking up speed ... 20mph ... 25 ... 30 ... 35mph when all of a sudden the sheriff comes whizzing by. A finger points out the window and "YOU! over!" and I thought to myself "What the hell? Am I speeding? Am I going to get a ticket?" It turns out that the boys called the police when they hadn't heard from me in a few days (no cell service). The cafe told the police that I had left a long time ago and should have reached Lander already (but the storm held me up). The last the boys had heard from me was that I was chowing down on steak in the middle of nowhere with oil drillers ... Glad to know they are looking out for me! The sheriff offered me a ride into Lander, but not wanting to cheat, I declined and continued to bike. Not 20 minutes later, the heavens opened up and I was caught in a terrifying lightning storm with no cover for 30 miles. Let the cheating commence! I flagged down the next RV and hitched the rest of the way into Lander. It ain't cheatin' if it's for safety right?
ODOMETER: 3502.7
image credits: http://www.animationlibrary.com/animation/29154/Speeding_ticket_2/
DAY 64: A fake reunion, food poisoning and the death of a cell phone
When I arrived in Lander the night before, I was expecting to be reunited with my boys, Dan and Chris. Entering the city park I looked around and spotted the familiar tall red-shirted male and his bearded green-shirted companion (the only shirts they have -- boys pack light!) and excitedly ran over to them. As I got closer I was disappointed when they did not share my enthusiasm ... and quickly realized they are not the only males in WY to own green and red shirts. After doing the awkward "I-was-running-to-give-you-a-hug-but-then-realized-you-were-somebody-else" 180 degree turn -- I flipped on my phone to find out they had gone ahead a few miles but it wouldn't be hard to catch up. I went to grab a quick dinner which resulted in a quick ... bout of food poisoning. Excellent. I decided to stay in Lander for the night (10 miles easily made up in the morning?) As night fell my phone blinked. "Cool! a text message!" I thought. blink blink ... blinkity blink blink. oh hell. This ain't no text message ... and with that incessant flashing came the death of my phone. I mourned my 4 year old phone ... and then my unfortunate situation. Unable to turn it on, I couldn't access any of my contacts -- couldn't tell the boys not to keep going -- couldn't tell them Verizon isn't open on Sundays ... couldn't tell them I was going to get days behind. My parents were on vacation so I couldn't call home (since kindergarten, this is the only number I have memorized) Luckily, thanks to my overly-prepared mother I had my brother's and sister's numbers written down and in a ziplock bag. After 4 unsucessful phone calls (that ate up a 150 minute phone card -- how??) I sat by the payphone, dejected, for 2 and a half hours waiting for someone to call back. Finally a muffled "blahding ... blah blah blahding" I scrambled to pick up the phone "please deposit 50 cents" so I did ... click. nothing. It rings again and I use my LAST two quarters only to be rejected again. And so begins the meltdown -- separated from the boys, food poisoning, dead phone, no way to contact anyone. And then Gary walks into my life with his fatherly wisdom, lets me vent ... and then lets me use his cell phone. Thank God for Gary.
ODOMETER: I didn't go anywhere!
image credit for hanging phone: http://ruach.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/telephone-hanging.jpg
When I arrived in Lander the night before, I was expecting to be reunited with my boys, Dan and Chris. Entering the city park I looked around and spotted the familiar tall red-shirted male and his bearded green-shirted companion (the only shirts they have -- boys pack light!) and excitedly ran over to them. As I got closer I was disappointed when they did not share my enthusiasm ... and quickly realized they are not the only males in WY to own green and red shirts. After doing the awkward "I-was-running-to-give-you-a-hug-but-then-realized-you-were-somebody-else" 180 degree turn -- I flipped on my phone to find out they had gone ahead a few miles but it wouldn't be hard to catch up. I went to grab a quick dinner which resulted in a quick ... bout of food poisoning. Excellent. I decided to stay in Lander for the night (10 miles easily made up in the morning?) As night fell my phone blinked. "Cool! a text message!" I thought. blink blink ... blinkity blink blink. oh hell. This ain't no text message ... and with that incessant flashing came the death of my phone. I mourned my 4 year old phone ... and then my unfortunate situation. Unable to turn it on, I couldn't access any of my contacts -- couldn't tell the boys not to keep going -- couldn't tell them Verizon isn't open on Sundays ... couldn't tell them I was going to get days behind. My parents were on vacation so I couldn't call home (since kindergarten, this is the only number I have memorized) Luckily, thanks to my overly-prepared mother I had my brother's and sister's numbers written down and in a ziplock bag. After 4 unsucessful phone calls (that ate up a 150 minute phone card -- how??) I sat by the payphone, dejected, for 2 and a half hours waiting for someone to call back. Finally a muffled "blahding ... blah blah blahding" I scrambled to pick up the phone "please deposit 50 cents" so I did ... click. nothing. It rings again and I use my LAST two quarters only to be rejected again. And so begins the meltdown -- separated from the boys, food poisoning, dead phone, no way to contact anyone. And then Gary walks into my life with his fatherly wisdom, lets me vent ... and then lets me use his cell phone. Thank God for Gary.
ODOMETER: I didn't go anywhere!
image credit for hanging phone: http://ruach.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/telephone-hanging.jpg
DAY 65:
Crisis averted. Spent the night in Lander and woke up to eat a pancake the size of my face ... bigger. While I'm waiting for my new phone from Verizon, Gary pops into the store to offer me a ride through the Indian reservation to Dubois. In my stubbornness to complete as many miles by bicycle as possible, I thank him but politely decline his offer. I head on the road again up a few hills through Wind River Reservation with a pitstop at Fort Washakie. Since it took so long to get the phone, there weren't enough daylight hours to get to Dubois, so I stopped short in Crowheart -- a gas-station town with a general store and volunteer fire dept. I plopped myself down for the night in a bed of a thousand dead crickets behind the station and passed out.
ODOMETER: 3547.2
Crisis averted. Spent the night in Lander and woke up to eat a pancake the size of my face ... bigger. While I'm waiting for my new phone from Verizon, Gary pops into the store to offer me a ride through the Indian reservation to Dubois. In my stubbornness to complete as many miles by bicycle as possible, I thank him but politely decline his offer. I head on the road again up a few hills through Wind River Reservation with a pitstop at Fort Washakie. Since it took so long to get the phone, there weren't enough daylight hours to get to Dubois, so I stopped short in Crowheart -- a gas-station town with a general store and volunteer fire dept. I plopped myself down for the night in a bed of a thousand dead crickets behind the station and passed out.
ODOMETER: 3547.2
DAY 66: the bears!
I left the crispy-crunchy dead crickets behind in Crowheart and stopped in Dubois for lunch. I stopped at the "Grocery" store as it was called -- confused upon entering to find only hats, boxes, wooden things and hunting stuff. So this is what they eat out here ...?! The owner assured me that thirty years ago it was a grocery but now just a trade shop. Confusion aside I found the real grocery store, ate and headed out to Union pass with the promise of a "cyclist only" camping opportunity. When I arrive, I hike up the burr-infested driveway ... perplexed by the two adjacent signs "NO TRESPASSING!" and "welcome cyclists" They must have closed down for the season -- no one was around. Covered by a million burrs I set off to find somewhere else to sleep. As it starts to get dark I find a campground boasting only $25 dollars for a tent site! woohoo! ... no thanks! I think I'll go down a few hundred feet to the National Forest and sleep in the same tent for free! Darkness falls and I pull into National Forest 532 and camped in the parking lot -- but not before packing my bike and food a few hundred yards away from my tent (signs warning of bears everywhere!) With the moo-ing of the nearby cattle, and the bubbling of the creek, I drifted off to sleep.
I left the crispy-crunchy dead crickets behind in Crowheart and stopped in Dubois for lunch. I stopped at the "Grocery" store as it was called -- confused upon entering to find only hats, boxes, wooden things and hunting stuff. So this is what they eat out here ...?! The owner assured me that thirty years ago it was a grocery but now just a trade shop. Confusion aside I found the real grocery store, ate and headed out to Union pass with the promise of a "cyclist only" camping opportunity. When I arrive, I hike up the burr-infested driveway ... perplexed by the two adjacent signs "NO TRESPASSING!" and "welcome cyclists" They must have closed down for the season -- no one was around. Covered by a million burrs I set off to find somewhere else to sleep. As it starts to get dark I find a campground boasting only $25 dollars for a tent site! woohoo! ... no thanks! I think I'll go down a few hundred feet to the National Forest and sleep in the same tent for free! Darkness falls and I pull into National Forest 532 and camped in the parking lot -- but not before packing my bike and food a few hundred yards away from my tent (signs warning of bears everywhere!) With the moo-ing of the nearby cattle, and the bubbling of the creek, I drifted off to sleep.
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2:30 AM. mmmrughh. merrrughhg. The sound of a large animal awakens me. "It's cool KK, it's only a stray cow ...i t's cool go back to sleep" ... "if it's a cow, how come I don't hear it's bell jingling?" ... "Shut up, it's a cow go back to sleep" for 2 hours I lay there listening to this monstrous animal, with no guts to go outside. Sploosh! it crosses the creek. oh hell. Pure exhaustion combined with fear ... somehow I drifted back to sleep and awoke again to "HEY! ... HEY!" A rancher yelling at something. I pass out again.
A while later, I wake up = not dead! Bags unharmed, no food taken ... cool, it really must have been a cow! 3 miles up the road I stop for some coffee and get the latest town buzz from the owner: "Hey did you hear about the bear-sighting this morning? 3 miles east? Yeah, a rancher saw 3 grizzlies!" HA! ... you mean right where I was camping? GREAT! I froze. The grumbling animal noises and rancher's shouts from hours before echoed in my ears ... KK and the three bears! Just the thought of sleeping next to grizzlies is ... unbearable. ODOMETER: 3595.7 |
 He stole my burger! just kidding -- there's no way I would have given up a 'non-peanut butter or tuna' meal that easily! and no, I did not take this shot -- just included for dramatic effect. picture credit http://minnesota.publicradio.org |
I've had enough of riding solo and sleeping with bears...must catch up to my goons!
DAY 67:
With thoughts of the deadly grizzly bear mauling near Yellowstone earlier in the summer swirling around my mind, I was thanking my lucky stars ... moons, planets and black holes that I woke up that morning unharmed. Severely shaken from having slept alongside three of these beasts (alone, with no cell reception!), I couldn't pull myself to ride. It was nasty outside, freezing cold, a lovely sleet was coming down steadily and a dusting of snow topped the hillside nearby. I brooded over my coffee for hours. The realization that I had to cross over Togowotee Pass (9658 feet) didn't help motivate me. Finally resigned to the fact that I couldn't spend the rest of eternity in the motel's coffee shop, I layered up and pressed forward. I was within a few miles of the Pass when I was stopped by a construction flagger. No bikes allowed for the next 15 miles. heh? ok how does this work? I waited around for the pilot truck to come direct the traffic through the muddy mess of construction -- tossed my bike in the back and rode up -- hearing the inside scoop on the construction progress (5 years of work and still a puddle of mud for 15 miles...). I was so thankful to have gotten a ride up (it's bad enough biking uphill but with the added rain/sleet it was miserable being alone).
Ah! I get a wonderful downhill for free! But I soon realized this was not a blessing. Going downhill at 30+ mph while it's sleeting is miserable (don't forget -- on a bike you are your own windshield!). After just 2 minutes of coasting downhill I was toast. Frozen, soggy .. .toast. I couldn't see -- but worse -- I had lost all feeling in my fingers and toes, and soon to follow I lost feeling in my calves. It got to the point where I couldn't squeeze my brakes -- this was dangerous and I knew it -- but what could I do? The slick road scared me and I was whizzing downhill way too fast without the capability of braking -- so I did a "runaway truck pulloff" and skidded off the road to slow myself down.
What the hell do I do? Riding is too dangerous, but you can't just stand in the middle of nowhere while you're freezing and wet -- you have to do SOMETHING. The prospect of hitchhiking 'downhill' seemed pretty lame but it was likely to be the only way to descend safely. I turned facing traffic and waited. A few cars came through but none big enough for a loaded bike. And then they stopped coming all together. I remembered from riding in the pilot car that it can take 15-20 minutes before the next round of cars was allowed through. Trying to stay warm, I rode a bit and missed the next round of traffic -- I was careful to time the next bunch. I turned around just in time and waved my arms frantically. Nothing. But then a little bit up the street. A car hesitated (I thought - eh there's no way my bike will fit anyway) but they ended up stopping.
Out of the car pops Rebecca -- my saving grace. Before I knew what was happening she shoved me in front of the heater and somehow magically squished my bike in the back. The scene was all too familiar to her -- she had gotten hypothermia biking downhill in Alaska and recognized that I was in danger of doing the same. I rode with Rebecca and her husband to Colter Bay and found out we had more in common than frozen limbs -- they were on their way home after dropping their son off at Colorado College (where I had spent my freshman year). Small world, eh?
ODOMETER: 3643.2
With thoughts of the deadly grizzly bear mauling near Yellowstone earlier in the summer swirling around my mind, I was thanking my lucky stars ... moons, planets and black holes that I woke up that morning unharmed. Severely shaken from having slept alongside three of these beasts (alone, with no cell reception!), I couldn't pull myself to ride. It was nasty outside, freezing cold, a lovely sleet was coming down steadily and a dusting of snow topped the hillside nearby. I brooded over my coffee for hours. The realization that I had to cross over Togowotee Pass (9658 feet) didn't help motivate me. Finally resigned to the fact that I couldn't spend the rest of eternity in the motel's coffee shop, I layered up and pressed forward. I was within a few miles of the Pass when I was stopped by a construction flagger. No bikes allowed for the next 15 miles. heh? ok how does this work? I waited around for the pilot truck to come direct the traffic through the muddy mess of construction -- tossed my bike in the back and rode up -- hearing the inside scoop on the construction progress (5 years of work and still a puddle of mud for 15 miles...). I was so thankful to have gotten a ride up (it's bad enough biking uphill but with the added rain/sleet it was miserable being alone).
Ah! I get a wonderful downhill for free! But I soon realized this was not a blessing. Going downhill at 30+ mph while it's sleeting is miserable (don't forget -- on a bike you are your own windshield!). After just 2 minutes of coasting downhill I was toast. Frozen, soggy .. .toast. I couldn't see -- but worse -- I had lost all feeling in my fingers and toes, and soon to follow I lost feeling in my calves. It got to the point where I couldn't squeeze my brakes -- this was dangerous and I knew it -- but what could I do? The slick road scared me and I was whizzing downhill way too fast without the capability of braking -- so I did a "runaway truck pulloff" and skidded off the road to slow myself down.
What the hell do I do? Riding is too dangerous, but you can't just stand in the middle of nowhere while you're freezing and wet -- you have to do SOMETHING. The prospect of hitchhiking 'downhill' seemed pretty lame but it was likely to be the only way to descend safely. I turned facing traffic and waited. A few cars came through but none big enough for a loaded bike. And then they stopped coming all together. I remembered from riding in the pilot car that it can take 15-20 minutes before the next round of cars was allowed through. Trying to stay warm, I rode a bit and missed the next round of traffic -- I was careful to time the next bunch. I turned around just in time and waved my arms frantically. Nothing. But then a little bit up the street. A car hesitated (I thought - eh there's no way my bike will fit anyway) but they ended up stopping.
Out of the car pops Rebecca -- my saving grace. Before I knew what was happening she shoved me in front of the heater and somehow magically squished my bike in the back. The scene was all too familiar to her -- she had gotten hypothermia biking downhill in Alaska and recognized that I was in danger of doing the same. I rode with Rebecca and her husband to Colter Bay and found out we had more in common than frozen limbs -- they were on their way home after dropping their son off at Colorado College (where I had spent my freshman year). Small world, eh?
ODOMETER: 3643.2
DAY 68:
After spending the night in a ... not so legal camping spot I realized I left my helmet in Rebecca's car. Facepalm. Luckily they were spending the night in a Colter Bay cabin and after a while I was able to track them down, thank them yet again ... and gave em a jar of local jam ... for getting me out of a jam!
I got on the road pretty late (still waiting for my shoes to dry out) so I was kind of annoyed when a car stopped me -- I need to catch up to the boys! We had talked about meeting at the entrance to Yellowstone a few days ago, but I hadn't heard from them in a while (service in the wilderness is iffy)
"Hey are you KK?" "Uh yes ... yes I am?" "Dan and Chris wanted us to tell you that they were at Flagg Ranch yesterday at 2pm"
Throughout the day I was stopped numerous times by travelers with a similar message "Chris and Dan were at Flagg Ranch at 3 PM ... at 4:15 PM ... at 5 PM."
I thought wow that's helpful -- to know where they were yesterday but not bother to say where they were planning on going the next day -- so I kept riding and finally got to Flagg Ranch. I rode all around but saw no evidence of the boys. It was such a beautiful day for once, I figured they must have kept riding. I hesitated at the entrance of Yellowstone, where we had planned to meet -- but it was so close to Flagg Ranch I figured they had pedaled onward.
Yellowstone National Park: What remains after the fire of 1988
My goal was to get to Old Faithful by sundown in hopes of bridging the gap, but I knew I should stop for water for the night in case I didn't get there. Grant Village was the last opportunity to do so, but being 1.5 miles off route I was reluctant to add another 3 miles to my trek as the sun dropped lower on the horizon. Disgruntled, I sucked it up and headed into the village where I also stopped for a bite to eat. Sitting outside, eating yet another bagel with peanut butter (never gets old! ... ugh) Wendy approached me. I had seen her walk into the store, eyeing my bicycle, and it wasn't unusual for people to stop and ask what the heck you're doing with a loaded bike. But this woman was different -- and she came bearing awesome news. She and her husband had driven out to visit their daughter in Yellowstone ... who was biking across the country ... with 5 other people. They would all be camping together at Grant Village for the night and would I like to join? -- They could really use some more estrogen in that group!
The prospect of meeting people (and another GIRL! for that matter) doing a similar trek sounded terrific -- but I was planning on another 20 miles that day. Could I really afford to stop so early and get even more behind the boys? I declined.
But, as Wendy walked away after her third offer, something inside me told me I should follow her and I belted "WAIT!" ... maybe it was the idea of not cycling alone anymore, or maybe it was the promise of a mother-made meal (that wasn't tuna or peanut butter) that urged me to change my mind -- or maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever the case may be, I turned to gather my things ... just in time to see a bird fly away with my ENTIRE bagel. Veritable fast food. Oh well.
We reached the campsite. I met the group of 6 riding to spread ideas of sustainable living and permaculture and as I'm helping one of the girls set up her tent, I notice 3 other cyclists arrive at the site. I didn't think much of it, but as I whipped the rainfly into the air and over the tent ...I did a double take ... abandoned the rainfly to the effects of gravity ... mustered the loudest scream I could come up with and sprinted my way over to ... Dan and Chris!
ODOMETER: 3674.2
The prospect of meeting people (and another GIRL! for that matter) doing a similar trek sounded terrific -- but I was planning on another 20 miles that day. Could I really afford to stop so early and get even more behind the boys? I declined.
But, as Wendy walked away after her third offer, something inside me told me I should follow her and I belted "WAIT!" ... maybe it was the idea of not cycling alone anymore, or maybe it was the promise of a mother-made meal (that wasn't tuna or peanut butter) that urged me to change my mind -- or maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever the case may be, I turned to gather my things ... just in time to see a bird fly away with my ENTIRE bagel. Veritable fast food. Oh well.
We reached the campsite. I met the group of 6 riding to spread ideas of sustainable living and permaculture and as I'm helping one of the girls set up her tent, I notice 3 other cyclists arrive at the site. I didn't think much of it, but as I whipped the rainfly into the air and over the tent ...I did a double take ... abandoned the rainfly to the effects of gravity ... mustered the loudest scream I could come up with and sprinted my way over to ... Dan and Chris!
ODOMETER: 3674.2
The magical campsite in Yellowstone where I was reunited with my boys and met 8 other cyclists!
|
DAY 69:
More cyclists trickled in the night before so I was left pinching myself all morning. To have gone from cycling alone, to having 13 cyclists in one site was so overwhelming. I was still having trouble believing that I was finally reunited with Dan and Chris. It turns out that the message had gotten garbled with each person they passed it on to. They had said they were staying at Flagg Ranch until I got there, not just that they had been there. They left a water bottle out with a sign for me, but somehow I missed it. They found out from another cyclist that I had passed by already and were able to catch up at Grant Village. Phew! Wendy invited us to tour around in their RV for the day, so we drove around the Tetons together all the while I got some sweet guitar lessons from Charlie, one of the 6 cyclists. If you've never been to the Tetons, they are definitely a must-see. There are no real foothills to speak of, just flat land that abruptly turns into mountains. Some pictures above, check 'em out! We ended the day with a giant spaghetti dinner at Jenny Lake ... and occupied ourselves with an ole fashion singalong while the food was cookin'. Within minutes, some late hikers joined in and donated a bottle of wine to the entertainment cause, thanks! |
 |
Jenny Lake Yellowstone: we commandeered a guitar and had a pre-dinner jam session/sing along
 A shot with the RV -- getting ready to hit the road |
DAY 70:
The narrow winding roads of Yellostone (with little to no shoulder) were no match for our gang of cyclists -- we took up the road, and then some. We found our way to Old Faithful, stopping at a few geysers along the way -- then waited 40 minutes for Old Faithful herself to pop. It was a speedy ride from the tourist trap to Madison -- we somehow got there before the RV ... but we were missing 2 of the riders (who we soon learned made a habit of disappearing). The other four cyclists of that group weren't too worried so some of the riders split off to go to the National Park's lecture on wolves, while the rest stayed behind for a late night campfire. ODOMETER: 3709.2 |
Thar she blows! Good Ole Faithful
One of the 8-thousand times we crossed the Continental Divide
DAY 71:
We had planned the night before to leave before the mandatory 11 AM checkout …but with 9 cyclists and their unique styles of getting ready, that feat proved to be impossible. The two riders we had lost the night before, pedaled in during the wee hours of the morning, so we started off all together once again.
The wind made for a hilarious, albeit dangerous ride. At times, gusts would come and essentially knock you off your bike. We stopped just over the border into Montana to take a breather. (Woop! Another state down!) A few miles later we reached West Yellowstone where the 6 Ecos had to decide if they wanted to join us the rest of the way across, or go their own planned route.
While they had a group meeting to discuss the matter, I hopped into a bike shop to snag a new tire. Trek 520 did a great job, but its tires are JUNK. The rubber literally peeled off. I tuned up my bike, and figured everyone would be antsy to get going … but no, the Ecos were still debating. Dan, Chris and I wandered the small touristy town, popped into an outlet store for more layers for the frigid temps: gloves, hats, sweats (who knew I’d be needing these when I started out on my trip with only 2 pairs of shorts??) … hours passed and the 6 were still debating. We soon came to learn that everything is a production when you have so many people to consider.
6 PM, still in West Yellowstone. We’ve gone, what? 14 miles? The Ecos finally decide to join us … just in time for it to start to SLEET. Yuck. Still a few miles to the campsite, gross – not a happy camper. The RV followed us one last time, and stopped to offer us hot chocolate to warm up before they peaced-out --- much appreciated.
ODOMETER: 3726.2
We had planned the night before to leave before the mandatory 11 AM checkout …but with 9 cyclists and their unique styles of getting ready, that feat proved to be impossible. The two riders we had lost the night before, pedaled in during the wee hours of the morning, so we started off all together once again.
The wind made for a hilarious, albeit dangerous ride. At times, gusts would come and essentially knock you off your bike. We stopped just over the border into Montana to take a breather. (Woop! Another state down!) A few miles later we reached West Yellowstone where the 6 Ecos had to decide if they wanted to join us the rest of the way across, or go their own planned route.
While they had a group meeting to discuss the matter, I hopped into a bike shop to snag a new tire. Trek 520 did a great job, but its tires are JUNK. The rubber literally peeled off. I tuned up my bike, and figured everyone would be antsy to get going … but no, the Ecos were still debating. Dan, Chris and I wandered the small touristy town, popped into an outlet store for more layers for the frigid temps: gloves, hats, sweats (who knew I’d be needing these when I started out on my trip with only 2 pairs of shorts??) … hours passed and the 6 were still debating. We soon came to learn that everything is a production when you have so many people to consider.
6 PM, still in West Yellowstone. We’ve gone, what? 14 miles? The Ecos finally decide to join us … just in time for it to start to SLEET. Yuck. Still a few miles to the campsite, gross – not a happy camper. The RV followed us one last time, and stopped to offer us hot chocolate to warm up before they peaced-out --- much appreciated.
ODOMETER: 3726.2
WAH-HO! A little too close for comfort. Chris, how fast can you pedal?
KK and Charlie entering Montana WOOP!
Cold morning outside Yellowstone -- We woke up to a layer of hail covering our gear
DAY 72:
We woke up in a land of snowberries. Nice hail covering everything … and the pair of pants I had left out to dry were frozen and crunchy – yum! The plan, yet again, was to wake up early to get some miles in. Chris, Dan, and I made breakfast burritos for the crew so they could focus on putting their gear away. But 11 AM rolled by and very few were ready to leave. Being slower than most, I hit the road first.
The baseline of the hill range made for some terrific waterside riding. Something seemed a bit off after a while. Coasting along – something gave me the creeps. I felt like I was riding alongside a village or something, but all I could see was a lake. It wasn’t until a few miles later, when a historic placard showed up to explain the eeriness. We were cruising alongside “Quake Lake” where in 1959 an earthquake busted up a campground at 6:30 AM and water flooded from the earth, trapping the site’s visitors.
I shuddered thinking about being in the wrong place at the wrong time, about our group camping up the road, realizing there was no way in hell we would have been out by 6:30 AM.
ODOMETER: 3795.7
We woke up in a land of snowberries. Nice hail covering everything … and the pair of pants I had left out to dry were frozen and crunchy – yum! The plan, yet again, was to wake up early to get some miles in. Chris, Dan, and I made breakfast burritos for the crew so they could focus on putting their gear away. But 11 AM rolled by and very few were ready to leave. Being slower than most, I hit the road first.
The baseline of the hill range made for some terrific waterside riding. Something seemed a bit off after a while. Coasting along – something gave me the creeps. I felt like I was riding alongside a village or something, but all I could see was a lake. It wasn’t until a few miles later, when a historic placard showed up to explain the eeriness. We were cruising alongside “Quake Lake” where in 1959 an earthquake busted up a campground at 6:30 AM and water flooded from the earth, trapping the site’s visitors.
I shuddered thinking about being in the wrong place at the wrong time, about our group camping up the road, realizing there was no way in hell we would have been out by 6:30 AM.
ODOMETER: 3795.7
Nope! This is not a panoramic. It's just two different views of Quake Lake that fit together smashingly well. This lake is a product of the Earthquake of 1959 where the land rifted, water rose, and submerged an active campground.
Biking up to Quake Lake Visitor's Center -- PEDAL FASTER, CHRIS!
DAY 73:
A truck rolled up late morning to the fire station, carrying one of the two missing cyclists. She had gotten a flat, but had given her pump over to the guy she was riding with – when they split up, she had nothing to fix it with and was forced to hitch-hike. Waiting around for the other cyclist to surface, Dan, Chris and I tried to play bike-shop and fix Chris’ thumping tire (ehhh rewind a few months and it’s just like my bike!) mid-fix, the pair got a call from the Togowatee Pass Construction site where they had sent in job applications on the way through – HIRED!
I was a bit bummed to be losing the boys, but there were still the Ecos I could continue on with -- plus, it was an amazing opportunity to just POP up out of nowhere. However (and I say this with attempted hidden excitement), they decided not to take the jobs! Woopee! (I mean … aw sorry it didn’t work out).
After another late start, we busted out to Twin Bridges where there was an awesome biker camping hut set up … bathroom, shower ... the works!
Pumped to find one of these cross-country biker set-ups again … I spotted the LOGBOOK ... dun dun dunnn! I flipped back a few pages, and whose names do I see but Sara and Adam's … who had biked through weeks before. Not 10 minutes later, I get a call from Sara (whom I hadn’t heard from since probably KS) crazy! She was still in MT and looking for someone to ride with after splitting up with Adam. Mind blown.
ODOMETER: 3840.7
A truck rolled up late morning to the fire station, carrying one of the two missing cyclists. She had gotten a flat, but had given her pump over to the guy she was riding with – when they split up, she had nothing to fix it with and was forced to hitch-hike. Waiting around for the other cyclist to surface, Dan, Chris and I tried to play bike-shop and fix Chris’ thumping tire (ehhh rewind a few months and it’s just like my bike!) mid-fix, the pair got a call from the Togowatee Pass Construction site where they had sent in job applications on the way through – HIRED!
I was a bit bummed to be losing the boys, but there were still the Ecos I could continue on with -- plus, it was an amazing opportunity to just POP up out of nowhere. However (and I say this with attempted hidden excitement), they decided not to take the jobs! Woopee! (I mean … aw sorry it didn’t work out).
After another late start, we busted out to Twin Bridges where there was an awesome biker camping hut set up … bathroom, shower ... the works!
Pumped to find one of these cross-country biker set-ups again … I spotted the LOGBOOK ... dun dun dunnn! I flipped back a few pages, and whose names do I see but Sara and Adam's … who had biked through weeks before. Not 10 minutes later, I get a call from Sara (whom I hadn’t heard from since probably KS) crazy! She was still in MT and looking for someone to ride with after splitting up with Adam. Mind blown.
ODOMETER: 3840.7
Sometimes we're mature ... sometimes!
DAY 74:
Packing up in the morning, we were surprised when a town official came by to board up the bike hostel for the season – latecomers, we made it just in time!
Dan, Chris and I stopped by the local café that built the bike hut to support their business – and stuff our faces of course. The Ecos went for their usual route of attempting a “kick-down” where they go to stores, explain their eco mission and hope for some free food – sometimes in exchange for doing work. Essentially we split into 2 groups for the ride up to Butte.
The boys and I, completely over-stuffed, took a leisurely ride and stuck together to the base of the mountain climb – stopping at every historical placard to read about the Lewis and Clark trail we were on. The three of us together were blazing the famous trails … exploring the west on our own … like Lewis and Clark … and Clark! Or perhaps, Lewis, Clark and a Shoshone Indian – there we go! Quick stop for a ridiculously touristy photo at the GIGANTIC mining tires and we were ready to tackle the mountain. Not the speediest of climbers, I dropped behind … and started to feel very strange. I’m so hot …I ’m cold. I’m shaky, no no I’m hot no I’m FREEEZING. The boys waited for me at the top – I was not in good shape, but less than 20 miles to go … OH hello thunderstorm! Great. Another freezing descent in the rain – quite familiar to me now!
We skirted around the construction in Butte. Chris went to get his bike fixed, the Ecos went to “kick-down” some dinner and here is where life gets hazy. I think I ate dinner? I think I had 8 cups of coffee and 15 cups of hot water? I do remember there were arguments about where we would camp. There was something about camping near some of the homeless of Butte and right before I fell completely delusional, one of them struck up a conversation about being in-and-out of jail and recovering from a coke addiction – But again, I say … the hours spent in Butte were a giant blurrr.
ODOMETER: 3887.7
Packing up in the morning, we were surprised when a town official came by to board up the bike hostel for the season – latecomers, we made it just in time!
Dan, Chris and I stopped by the local café that built the bike hut to support their business – and stuff our faces of course. The Ecos went for their usual route of attempting a “kick-down” where they go to stores, explain their eco mission and hope for some free food – sometimes in exchange for doing work. Essentially we split into 2 groups for the ride up to Butte.
The boys and I, completely over-stuffed, took a leisurely ride and stuck together to the base of the mountain climb – stopping at every historical placard to read about the Lewis and Clark trail we were on. The three of us together were blazing the famous trails … exploring the west on our own … like Lewis and Clark … and Clark! Or perhaps, Lewis, Clark and a Shoshone Indian – there we go! Quick stop for a ridiculously touristy photo at the GIGANTIC mining tires and we were ready to tackle the mountain. Not the speediest of climbers, I dropped behind … and started to feel very strange. I’m so hot …I ’m cold. I’m shaky, no no I’m hot no I’m FREEEZING. The boys waited for me at the top – I was not in good shape, but less than 20 miles to go … OH hello thunderstorm! Great. Another freezing descent in the rain – quite familiar to me now!
We skirted around the construction in Butte. Chris went to get his bike fixed, the Ecos went to “kick-down” some dinner and here is where life gets hazy. I think I ate dinner? I think I had 8 cups of coffee and 15 cups of hot water? I do remember there were arguments about where we would camp. There was something about camping near some of the homeless of Butte and right before I fell completely delusional, one of them struck up a conversation about being in-and-out of jail and recovering from a coke addiction – But again, I say … the hours spent in Butte were a giant blurrr.
ODOMETER: 3887.7
Some mining tires along the Lewis and Clark Trail -- We had to stop at the tourist trap of course
DAY 75:
Let the blur continue. With a temperature so high I felt my skin could have peeled off. I was miserable and finally woke up the next day at 8:45 PM. PM! Chris’s friend Noelle came to rescue us and drive us up to Missoula. If I had been in my usual stubborn state – I would have heartily objected the “cheat” ride … but I was so out of it -- crumpled on the floor, violently shaking, that the boys had to put me in the car wrapped in my sleeping bag. Don’t know what I would have done without you guys – thank you :)
ODOMETER: 4008
Let the blur continue. With a temperature so high I felt my skin could have peeled off. I was miserable and finally woke up the next day at 8:45 PM. PM! Chris’s friend Noelle came to rescue us and drive us up to Missoula. If I had been in my usual stubborn state – I would have heartily objected the “cheat” ride … but I was so out of it -- crumpled on the floor, violently shaking, that the boys had to put me in the car wrapped in my sleeping bag. Don’t know what I would have done without you guys – thank you :)
ODOMETER: 4008
DAY 76 – DAY 83:
We spent a few days at Noelle’s, none of which I remember … aside from “Momma Chris” who force-fed me Gatorade and Excedrin for days on end. Deciding that this was no small head cold, I headed to the Doc where it was surmised that this crazy illness was due to kidney failure, mono, or even Rocky-Mountain-Spotted Fever … lions and tigers and bears, oh my!
Somewhere in the set of days, all 9 of us ventured over to the Adventure Cycling Association headquarters where they welcome cross-country bikers to check in, tell their stories, and give em free ice cream! Yum.
Dan and Chris, on a timeline, headed out towards Portland, OR and I continued to rest up in a cheapy-cheap motel in the center of the city and simultaneously lost track of the Ecos.
DAY 84:
Finally felt well enough to possibly venture onwards. I called up the Ecos to see how far ahead they had gotten in the past week – they hadn’t moved yet! Sweet. I pedaled downtown to where they were staying – with a couple of guys from the Univ of MT. We headed down to the giant farmers’ market – where I ate my first real food in a week -- a Missoula market special: a waffle roll up with ham, maple syrup and gouda cheese – soooo good-a! Pardon my awful puns.
I started feeling woozy again so I headed back to the house – is this seriously not over yet??
Finally felt well enough to possibly venture onwards. I called up the Ecos to see how far ahead they had gotten in the past week – they hadn’t moved yet! Sweet. I pedaled downtown to where they were staying – with a couple of guys from the Univ of MT. We headed down to the giant farmers’ market – where I ate my first real food in a week -- a Missoula market special: a waffle roll up with ham, maple syrup and gouda cheese – soooo good-a! Pardon my awful puns.
I started feeling woozy again so I headed back to the house – is this seriously not over yet??
Day 85:
Before kicking out of Missoula, the 7 of us said good-bye to the folks at Free Cycles – a non-profit community organization. They collect old bicycle parts and allow anyone to come in, learn about constructing/maintaining bikes – and with 2 hours of volunteer work you’re permitted to make an entire bike for free from their used parts. Check er out!
http://www.strans.org/communityshop.html
We had a pretty late start (surprise!) -- heading out around 3:30 PM after the Ecos did their ceremonial dumpster diving. I know most might think – gross! But many grocery stores throw away perfectly decent fruits and veggies by the box because of a few bumps or bruises. A major part of the Ecos’ sustainability ride is to minimize food waste – and dumpster diving is a start – although not legal in every state.
Anywho, I digress. We started up Lolo Pass but didn’t get very far, due to the late start. We met up with one of the Free Cycles volunteers who had a camp set up for hunting. Back in the wilderness – bear bagging – a must!
ODOMETER: 4038.5
Before kicking out of Missoula, the 7 of us said good-bye to the folks at Free Cycles – a non-profit community organization. They collect old bicycle parts and allow anyone to come in, learn about constructing/maintaining bikes – and with 2 hours of volunteer work you’re permitted to make an entire bike for free from their used parts. Check er out!
http://www.strans.org/communityshop.html
We had a pretty late start (surprise!) -- heading out around 3:30 PM after the Ecos did their ceremonial dumpster diving. I know most might think – gross! But many grocery stores throw away perfectly decent fruits and veggies by the box because of a few bumps or bruises. A major part of the Ecos’ sustainability ride is to minimize food waste – and dumpster diving is a start – although not legal in every state.
Anywho, I digress. We started up Lolo Pass but didn’t get very far, due to the late start. We met up with one of the Free Cycles volunteers who had a camp set up for hunting. Back in the wilderness – bear bagging – a must!
ODOMETER: 4038.5
Entering the third and final time zone, chyyea buddy!
DAY 86:
By the time we all woke up, our Free Cycles friend had already been out-and-back from a hunt and bagged an elk! Yick :/
We had another late morning and finished the climb to Lolo Pass. We had really weird weather all afternoon – hey it’s sunny and hot! And now it’s cold and rainy … Oh there’s the sun! … and more rain. By the time we reached the top we’d added and stripped layers 4 times. The top of the pass marked our entrance into IDAHOOO and the beginning of the final time zone – Pacific! – West Coast, I can already feel you!
We hung out in the Lolo Pass visitor’s center, watched some Lewis and Clark info videos and warmed up for the descent. We split up a little too much -- to the point where some of us found the campsite (a well-kept secret hot springs) so much off the beaten path that 2 of our riders passed it without realizing. It was getting dark so everyone headed up to the springs for a dip … I stayed behind a few minutes to set up my tent while there was still light out. Flashlight in hand, I scrambled up the path and rock faces towards the spring. The trail split so I guessed which one they had taken, but right then my flashlight flickered out. Oh hell. Well, I could continue along the pitch-black path another mile and hope that’s where the were – but I know my clutzy self too well, and tip-toed my way back to the tent.
I broke out some dinner … but it appears, someone had already done that for me! I had a nice stow-away field mouse in my pannier. Appetite gone.
ODOMETER: 4085.5
By the time we all woke up, our Free Cycles friend had already been out-and-back from a hunt and bagged an elk! Yick :/
We had another late morning and finished the climb to Lolo Pass. We had really weird weather all afternoon – hey it’s sunny and hot! And now it’s cold and rainy … Oh there’s the sun! … and more rain. By the time we reached the top we’d added and stripped layers 4 times. The top of the pass marked our entrance into IDAHOOO and the beginning of the final time zone – Pacific! – West Coast, I can already feel you!
We hung out in the Lolo Pass visitor’s center, watched some Lewis and Clark info videos and warmed up for the descent. We split up a little too much -- to the point where some of us found the campsite (a well-kept secret hot springs) so much off the beaten path that 2 of our riders passed it without realizing. It was getting dark so everyone headed up to the springs for a dip … I stayed behind a few minutes to set up my tent while there was still light out. Flashlight in hand, I scrambled up the path and rock faces towards the spring. The trail split so I guessed which one they had taken, but right then my flashlight flickered out. Oh hell. Well, I could continue along the pitch-black path another mile and hope that’s where the were – but I know my clutzy self too well, and tip-toed my way back to the tent.
I broke out some dinner … but it appears, someone had already done that for me! I had a nice stow-away field mouse in my pannier. Appetite gone.
ODOMETER: 4085.5
Well...that's unfortunate...
DAY 87:
Bongo drums, and a few guitars … why not start the morning out with a jam session, right? The guys tenting on an adjacent rock ledge came to join us for breakfast and brought their rhythm with ‘em.
The Ecos went for another dip in the springs while I fiddled around with my brakes and installed a new set (COMPLETELY worn out – not so good for the day of downhill coming up). Needless to say, we didn’t hit the road til after 2 PM. It’s been difficult getting used to such late starts considering at the beginning of the trip we would be on the road by 8 AM!
We were in the middle of biking a 66-mile stretch with no services – one road through the pass -- through the valley, always surrounded by the same trees. Every curve we rode felt exactly the same – a swooping left curve, a jog back to the right, a swooping left curve … annnd a tilt to the right. It was a real-life version of the movie ‘Groundhog Day’ and I was ready to be done with it. A baby bear up a tree greeted us at some point during the ride – but I was mesmerized by the monotonous landscape and didn’t notice until one of the guys pointed it out. We reached Lowell as the sun dropped below the mountains. It took less than a minute to bike through the gas-station town with a quickie-mart and motel.
The Ecos were ready to set up shop on a plot of land laden with wild blackberries – but I pointed out that as it was fenced-in, it was clearly private property … but that didn’t seem to phase them. We popped into the quickie-mart, (already shutting down at 7 PM!) where the shopkeeper suggested asking the motel owner to camp. Thinking this was a much better idea than camping on private property I headed over and asked for permission to camp – they were happy to oblige and even had a fire pit set up outside. Sweet deal, folks.
ODOMETER: 4133
Bongo drums, and a few guitars … why not start the morning out with a jam session, right? The guys tenting on an adjacent rock ledge came to join us for breakfast and brought their rhythm with ‘em.
The Ecos went for another dip in the springs while I fiddled around with my brakes and installed a new set (COMPLETELY worn out – not so good for the day of downhill coming up). Needless to say, we didn’t hit the road til after 2 PM. It’s been difficult getting used to such late starts considering at the beginning of the trip we would be on the road by 8 AM!
We were in the middle of biking a 66-mile stretch with no services – one road through the pass -- through the valley, always surrounded by the same trees. Every curve we rode felt exactly the same – a swooping left curve, a jog back to the right, a swooping left curve … annnd a tilt to the right. It was a real-life version of the movie ‘Groundhog Day’ and I was ready to be done with it. A baby bear up a tree greeted us at some point during the ride – but I was mesmerized by the monotonous landscape and didn’t notice until one of the guys pointed it out. We reached Lowell as the sun dropped below the mountains. It took less than a minute to bike through the gas-station town with a quickie-mart and motel.
The Ecos were ready to set up shop on a plot of land laden with wild blackberries – but I pointed out that as it was fenced-in, it was clearly private property … but that didn’t seem to phase them. We popped into the quickie-mart, (already shutting down at 7 PM!) where the shopkeeper suggested asking the motel owner to camp. Thinking this was a much better idea than camping on private property I headed over and asked for permission to camp – they were happy to oblige and even had a fire pit set up outside. Sweet deal, folks.
ODOMETER: 4133
DAY 88:
Also known as: the day I finally lost it. Though not riding together at the moment, I later asked Dan for his opinion as to whether or not I should include the problems we had with the Ecos – and while up to this point, I decided to down-play their hypocrisies in my entries – Dan pointed out that euphemizing our issues does an injustice to the “adventure.” So I will briefly explain the basis of the blowup that occurred.
As alluded to before, the Ecos’ ride is based on sustainable living (which I think is awesome, in principle). Their plan: to explore the country in an eco-friendly way, and explain their philosophies on going green in hopes of raising awareness. Their goal, by the end of the trip was to establish a location where they could build an eco-village (like the one we explored in Berea, KY: Day 26) and live out their vision of permaculture. Throughout the ride, they visited various farms and sustainable living facilities and sustained themselves dumpster diving and asking for food donations.
Sounds great! I have no problem with their intentions. However, the longer we (Dan, Chris and I) rode with them, the more frustrated we became with their seemingly hypocritical ways. They frequented local food banks (which in my opinion is not appropriate) but worse were the times they would make small businesses uncomfortable asking for handouts and free food or “kick-downs” – as if it were somehow “owed” to them because they were biking the country. It got to the point where the 3 of us would tip extra to cover what we felt was taken away from these places – not cool when you’re on a budget. In addition, they had already found an ideal location to set up a farm – yet were still out in the field preaching instead of practicing.
On to the blowup! Morning rolls around and I pop in to get a small breakfast. I try to travel as cheaply as possible (carrying most meals with me) but if someone helps you out (say, lets you camp at their motel for free) I generally try to support their business in some way. Essentially, my traveling philosophy is to keep it cheap, accept help when you need it but don’t take advantage, if someone helps you – thank them appropriately, and don’t screw people over – simple enough.
Part way through my breakfast, one of the Ecos walks in and tries for a “kick-down” but gets shut-down. He then goes on to complain about how expensive the eggs are – how he could go to the quickie mart and get a dozen eggs for a better price . (Well duh! They cook them for you at a restaurant, there’s a service being done.) What eventually happens is that he goes and buys eggs at the mart, then convinces the cook to boil them for him at no charge.
So I’m sitting here fuming – this is a small motel restaurant – they get their regulars alright, but it’s just a side-of-the-road joint (to give an idea, they shut down for the season in November because they don’t get enough business). They could very well have charged us to camp on their property, but they didn’t – and now they were getting taken advantage of. Now, I am, generally speaking, not a very confrontational person – so for this to happen in a public place shows how pissed off I was.
Eco boy comes back with all the cooked eggs, without even bothering to tip the waitress ...
BOOM. Explosion. Here comes ... (I’ll paraphrase the 20 minute tirade – you’re welcome.)
‘How does demanding free services promote the spread of your group’s ideals??’ Which was met with a response of ‘we don’t have a lot of money to sustain our trip’ (True – but maybe they could have done a fundraiser before starting out? Or could have saved up for the trip in advance, instead of mooching their way across the country? But that’s not what I found the most offensive … ) I followed up with ‘ok so you’re low on funds, but how does taking from the little guy promote your permaculture lifestyle? It seems like your philosophy is to ‘stick it to the man’ and promote small business growth, but right here, you not only didn’t give them business … you straight up took away from them – to which he responded ‘oh they don’t mind, they aren’t being paid in the monetary sense but with the happiness we have brought them – they get the satisfaction of knowing they did a good deed!’ ...
Silly me … I bet they pay their rent and sustain themselves with Satisfaction cash and Happiness checks right?
Alright – I agree that some people don’t mind throwing out the occasional good deed. However, I couldn't get him to see the bigger picture. I followed up with 'so you want people to follow your actions? You want people to learn from you, to follow suit, right?' Yea, exactly. 'Ok, so how about if these hoards of followers start their own bike excursions, so what you're saying is that ALL of these people should feel comfortable taking food handouts? Then what is the point of owning a business?!' That sounds great to me -- That way we can escape the confines of a monetized society!
*Arms flailing* rahhhh. Although I had the silent, approving head nods from the local elders in the restaurant, I could see I wasn't getting through to him. And he did have one valid point that I could see: I shouldn't judge because I hadn't traveled with them the entirety of their trip, true! But from the few weeks that I had, I only witnessed one example of their proposed bartering system in practice -- one of them had mowed a lawn in exchange for breakfast.
OK done with that rant. Needless to say, I didn't shed too many tears when we parted ways later that day in Kooskia: The Ecos bee-lining for Portland while I headed for Riggins, Id. AH, but not before I witnessed their so-called foraging for wild fruits ... on the front lawn of some private property. facepalm. (Although I should say, after some time the owners came out and were happy to share the fruits of their labor and even provided plastic bags for storage)
Also known as: the day I finally lost it. Though not riding together at the moment, I later asked Dan for his opinion as to whether or not I should include the problems we had with the Ecos – and while up to this point, I decided to down-play their hypocrisies in my entries – Dan pointed out that euphemizing our issues does an injustice to the “adventure.” So I will briefly explain the basis of the blowup that occurred.
As alluded to before, the Ecos’ ride is based on sustainable living (which I think is awesome, in principle). Their plan: to explore the country in an eco-friendly way, and explain their philosophies on going green in hopes of raising awareness. Their goal, by the end of the trip was to establish a location where they could build an eco-village (like the one we explored in Berea, KY: Day 26) and live out their vision of permaculture. Throughout the ride, they visited various farms and sustainable living facilities and sustained themselves dumpster diving and asking for food donations.
Sounds great! I have no problem with their intentions. However, the longer we (Dan, Chris and I) rode with them, the more frustrated we became with their seemingly hypocritical ways. They frequented local food banks (which in my opinion is not appropriate) but worse were the times they would make small businesses uncomfortable asking for handouts and free food or “kick-downs” – as if it were somehow “owed” to them because they were biking the country. It got to the point where the 3 of us would tip extra to cover what we felt was taken away from these places – not cool when you’re on a budget. In addition, they had already found an ideal location to set up a farm – yet were still out in the field preaching instead of practicing.
On to the blowup! Morning rolls around and I pop in to get a small breakfast. I try to travel as cheaply as possible (carrying most meals with me) but if someone helps you out (say, lets you camp at their motel for free) I generally try to support their business in some way. Essentially, my traveling philosophy is to keep it cheap, accept help when you need it but don’t take advantage, if someone helps you – thank them appropriately, and don’t screw people over – simple enough.
Part way through my breakfast, one of the Ecos walks in and tries for a “kick-down” but gets shut-down. He then goes on to complain about how expensive the eggs are – how he could go to the quickie mart and get a dozen eggs for a better price . (Well duh! They cook them for you at a restaurant, there’s a service being done.) What eventually happens is that he goes and buys eggs at the mart, then convinces the cook to boil them for him at no charge.
So I’m sitting here fuming – this is a small motel restaurant – they get their regulars alright, but it’s just a side-of-the-road joint (to give an idea, they shut down for the season in November because they don’t get enough business). They could very well have charged us to camp on their property, but they didn’t – and now they were getting taken advantage of. Now, I am, generally speaking, not a very confrontational person – so for this to happen in a public place shows how pissed off I was.
Eco boy comes back with all the cooked eggs, without even bothering to tip the waitress ...
BOOM. Explosion. Here comes ... (I’ll paraphrase the 20 minute tirade – you’re welcome.)
‘How does demanding free services promote the spread of your group’s ideals??’ Which was met with a response of ‘we don’t have a lot of money to sustain our trip’ (True – but maybe they could have done a fundraiser before starting out? Or could have saved up for the trip in advance, instead of mooching their way across the country? But that’s not what I found the most offensive … ) I followed up with ‘ok so you’re low on funds, but how does taking from the little guy promote your permaculture lifestyle? It seems like your philosophy is to ‘stick it to the man’ and promote small business growth, but right here, you not only didn’t give them business … you straight up took away from them – to which he responded ‘oh they don’t mind, they aren’t being paid in the monetary sense but with the happiness we have brought them – they get the satisfaction of knowing they did a good deed!’ ...
Silly me … I bet they pay their rent and sustain themselves with Satisfaction cash and Happiness checks right?
Alright – I agree that some people don’t mind throwing out the occasional good deed. However, I couldn't get him to see the bigger picture. I followed up with 'so you want people to follow your actions? You want people to learn from you, to follow suit, right?' Yea, exactly. 'Ok, so how about if these hoards of followers start their own bike excursions, so what you're saying is that ALL of these people should feel comfortable taking food handouts? Then what is the point of owning a business?!' That sounds great to me -- That way we can escape the confines of a monetized society!
*Arms flailing* rahhhh. Although I had the silent, approving head nods from the local elders in the restaurant, I could see I wasn't getting through to him. And he did have one valid point that I could see: I shouldn't judge because I hadn't traveled with them the entirety of their trip, true! But from the few weeks that I had, I only witnessed one example of their proposed bartering system in practice -- one of them had mowed a lawn in exchange for breakfast.
OK done with that rant. Needless to say, I didn't shed too many tears when we parted ways later that day in Kooskia: The Ecos bee-lining for Portland while I headed for Riggins, Id. AH, but not before I witnessed their so-called foraging for wild fruits ... on the front lawn of some private property. facepalm. (Although I should say, after some time the owners came out and were happy to share the fruits of their labor and even provided plastic bags for storage)
Long, lonely solo climb. Reward: 9 mile downhill to follow
DAY 89:
The bitter freezing temperatures woke me up before 7 AM – a staggering change from the noon wakeups with the Ecos – but I wasn’t complaining. I had 74 miles and a 3000-foot climb ahead of me so an early start was welcome. Before I headed out, I chatted with the grocery store owner for an hour or so – but part of me wishes I had bypassed that part of the morning.
I’ve been given the “You’re a woman, you shouldn’t be traveling alone!” speech many a time – throughout this trip I’ve run into many guys biking solo (some, a lot younger than I), yet nobody chastised them! But I won’t get into gender bias here. This morning, the grocery owner focused her conversation on the young woman (‘who looked a lot like you!’) who was biking along 95 to Riggins alone and was harassed and propositioned. ‘Whatever you do, DO NOT STOP as you get tired near the top of the pass. That was her mistake. She was fatigued, and stopped to take a break – and that’s when it happened – back roads off the beaten path – nobody can hear you.’ Hahahah ‘Great!’ I thought. ‘That’s simple enough – it’s only the first 30 miles of the day that are uphill … who needs a break?!?! Exclamation point.’
First 24 miles uphill to Grangeville felt terrific – finally feeling better (and about to get in more miles today than the past 3 days combined with the Ecos!). I started the ascent on old 95 – creeped out by the warnings of the grocery store lady. It really was in the back of beyond – I could see the new 95 off to the side laden with traffic so I was thankful for the peace and quiet of the old highway. I reached the summit without stopping – booyea! 7 percent grade for the next few miles. AMAZING rubber-burning, hand cramping experience. I dropped quickly into the canyon – I was in a completely different world never having seen landscape quite like this before. The rest of the ride to Riggins was stressful – no shoulder to speak of and an abundance of semis. I was so proud of myself for my timing – I had called family friends in Riggins earlier in the day, expecting to reach Riggins at 7 PM, and it was only 5:30 PM! Look at me go! … and then, right before I cross the bridge – Time zone change!...what? back to Mountain Time? It’s actually 6:30 PM! Good thing I didn’t dilly dally?
ODOMETER: 4233.5
The bitter freezing temperatures woke me up before 7 AM – a staggering change from the noon wakeups with the Ecos – but I wasn’t complaining. I had 74 miles and a 3000-foot climb ahead of me so an early start was welcome. Before I headed out, I chatted with the grocery store owner for an hour or so – but part of me wishes I had bypassed that part of the morning.
I’ve been given the “You’re a woman, you shouldn’t be traveling alone!” speech many a time – throughout this trip I’ve run into many guys biking solo (some, a lot younger than I), yet nobody chastised them! But I won’t get into gender bias here. This morning, the grocery owner focused her conversation on the young woman (‘who looked a lot like you!’) who was biking along 95 to Riggins alone and was harassed and propositioned. ‘Whatever you do, DO NOT STOP as you get tired near the top of the pass. That was her mistake. She was fatigued, and stopped to take a break – and that’s when it happened – back roads off the beaten path – nobody can hear you.’ Hahahah ‘Great!’ I thought. ‘That’s simple enough – it’s only the first 30 miles of the day that are uphill … who needs a break?!?! Exclamation point.’
First 24 miles uphill to Grangeville felt terrific – finally feeling better (and about to get in more miles today than the past 3 days combined with the Ecos!). I started the ascent on old 95 – creeped out by the warnings of the grocery store lady. It really was in the back of beyond – I could see the new 95 off to the side laden with traffic so I was thankful for the peace and quiet of the old highway. I reached the summit without stopping – booyea! 7 percent grade for the next few miles. AMAZING rubber-burning, hand cramping experience. I dropped quickly into the canyon – I was in a completely different world never having seen landscape quite like this before. The rest of the ride to Riggins was stressful – no shoulder to speak of and an abundance of semis. I was so proud of myself for my timing – I had called family friends in Riggins earlier in the day, expecting to reach Riggins at 7 PM, and it was only 5:30 PM! Look at me go! … and then, right before I cross the bridge – Time zone change!...what? back to Mountain Time? It’s actually 6:30 PM! Good thing I didn’t dilly dally?
ODOMETER: 4233.5
|
DAY 90: First shower in … 6 days? Fantastic. Relaxed morning with Larry, Marty and Sherry – family of family friends. We piled their 3 dogs into the car and took them for a run on the beach. By the time I got out of the truck – I could have made a new dog with the fur Lily so graciously donated to my shirt :) Post-fetch-playing, Larry and I took a blackberry-picking ride (biggest, juiciest blackberries, EVER). I remarked how awesome it was that there where paths up to the berries – how convenient! Larry educated me to the fact that … most of those paths are made by bears! ... Bears, bears. My FAVORITES! The afternoon was spent in a duckie floating along the Salmon River. After rowing competitively in college – my instinct upon entering a boat is – it’s GO TIME! Quite a different experience in a duckie … for the most part you just sit. And float. And enjoy. |
 Riggins, ID ... Larry teaches me to Ducky ... Duckie? |
Salmon River Rapids
DAY 91:
Started feeling funky again last night – Marty encouraged me to sleep in after hearing tales of my crazy weeklong illness. So I was understandably confused when I awoke to a knock at the door followed by ‘Are you Alive?’ Oh my gosh, did I sleep through the entire day? … I stammered ‘I’m up! yes I’m fine!’ – arms flailing to find my phone – it’s only 8:30 AM? Thwap, thwap, thwap. Another knock at the door. I jump out of bed to greet …. Chief? (their dog) wagging his tail against my door. I jog downstairs – walk through the house but nobody else is around. Did I just imagine the ‘Are you Alive?’ conversation? Was it just Chief? Must have been. Back to bed! No sooner did I pull the covers up than Larry waltzed back in excited to get packing for a white water rafting adventure ‘Kathryn, are you up?’ Guess it wasn’t a dream. oops.
We rigged and packed up the raft the night before so all we had to do was load the truck and we were off! We made a quick stop off at the local orchard to pick up some fresh peaches from the 92-year-old still heartily running the place. I exchanged cycling stories with his son, who’d done a trek from Mexico to Canada (next on my list!) I spent the afternoon undoing my rowing skills – raft rowing is completely backwards from what I’m used to.
Started feeling funky again last night – Marty encouraged me to sleep in after hearing tales of my crazy weeklong illness. So I was understandably confused when I awoke to a knock at the door followed by ‘Are you Alive?’ Oh my gosh, did I sleep through the entire day? … I stammered ‘I’m up! yes I’m fine!’ – arms flailing to find my phone – it’s only 8:30 AM? Thwap, thwap, thwap. Another knock at the door. I jump out of bed to greet …. Chief? (their dog) wagging his tail against my door. I jog downstairs – walk through the house but nobody else is around. Did I just imagine the ‘Are you Alive?’ conversation? Was it just Chief? Must have been. Back to bed! No sooner did I pull the covers up than Larry waltzed back in excited to get packing for a white water rafting adventure ‘Kathryn, are you up?’ Guess it wasn’t a dream. oops.
We rigged and packed up the raft the night before so all we had to do was load the truck and we were off! We made a quick stop off at the local orchard to pick up some fresh peaches from the 92-year-old still heartily running the place. I exchanged cycling stories with his son, who’d done a trek from Mexico to Canada (next on my list!) I spent the afternoon undoing my rowing skills – raft rowing is completely backwards from what I’m used to.
Basalt pillars along the Salmon River
Rafting from the Salmon River to the Snake River
DAY 92- DAY 95:
Warm. Wet. Slobber to the face and a flick of sand to the hair -- Molly’s signature wakeup call, thanks pup! The four of us (Larry, Sherry, dog Molly and I) continued on our 5-day white water rafting adventure (my first!) down the Salmon River onto the Snake River. The canyon heat was a warm welcome (literally, heyo!) from the freezing hailberries I was experiencing just last week. We lazily drifted down the river, passing by hundreds of basalt pillars and even an exposed portion of sedimentary ocean floor – a veritable 73-mile lesson in historical geology. And, oh yea! The rapids …There’s nothing quite like floating along, super relaxed, basking in late summer warmth, engulfed by the sound of water bobbling over rocks in the distance … until you’re right up on that Class IV rapid paddling like your life depends on it and OH MY GOSH where DID that rock COME FROM?? THUD duonk … ahhh flat, calm water, heart-rate settling back to normal …too bad my stomach got left behind on that last pool-and-drop. Larry worked me up to paddling a Class III on my own – I only hit one rock, and one hole (oops!) – not too shabby for a first timer! We finished up every evening with cocktail hour and amazing food (no tuna! Ayy!) We’d set up camp and roll out our Paco pads (3 inch thick air mattresses -- what a luxury compared to the past months sleeping on the ground with nothing separating me from the cold ground). Larry would whip out his harmonica and guitar and serenade the setting sun. Clear skies on most of the nights made for sleeping out in the open canyon – snoozing at the bottom of a bowl of stars.
White-water ODOMETER: 73
The raft herself: loaded up and ready for some rapids!
DAY 96:
Despite 5 days of rest on the raft – back to not feeling so hot. De-rigged the raft, cleaned up the camping gear, packed up my bike, and spent one last night in a real bed. Thanks Larry, Marty, and Sherry (not to forget Molly, Chief and Lily) for the full Riggins experience!
DAY 97:
I suppose I should hit the road again if I’m ever going to make it to the Pacific Coast eh? Pedaled my way to Cambridge, taking it easy on my first day back. There was an awesome biker set-up in the town center under the water tower so I decided to stay there for the night instead of continuing on and ending up on the side of the road somewhere for the night.
ODOMETER: 4315
The white-water rafting ritual of getting soaked in the waterfall.
oh. joy. COLD!
oh. joy. COLD!
|
DAY 98:
Fitful night’s sleep being alone again. And a sore throat, to boot. Climbed my way up the pass for the 2,500-foot descent into Hell’s Canyon (to see the Salmon River from a different angle). Before I started the long cruise down, I stopped for a breather, after a 17-mile climb, I think that’s legit. Whilst snacking on some dried fruit chunkies, I had, yet again, one of my favorite types of solo-female encounters. It went something like this: An older couple approaches to ask about my loaded-up bike: Husband: “We saw you climbing the pass a while back and I says t’my wife, I says ‘I bet there’s another one in front of her, there’s got to be a man with her’ so where is he? Need to catch up?’ Wife: “Well that was a chauvinist thing to say!” Chauvinist, indeed! Thanks lady. Seriously what is this single-female-traveler taboo? The ride through Hell’s Canyon was breathtaking with its hues of purple and green. And. Ladies and Gentleman. I would like to welcome you to … OREGON! I almost cried with joy entering the last state between me and Pacific waters – but I resisted, it was hot, I didn’t want to get dehydrated :) Climbing out of the Canyon … was Hell (how convenient Hell’s Canyon…) I was having one of those defeating days. Every pedal was a struggle. I stopped every mile (or so it felt). Very hard to motivate – so I started to pedal count. 500 pedals and you can take a break … no take 10 more. Pedal the alphabet, count by twos, push by primes, fumble your feet to the Fibonaccis ... did you forget that I’m a math nerd? Tsk tsk. Anyway, finally made it to the top and hurled myself over the edge of a 7-mile descent into Richland. Biker camping in the town park, woop! I pulled into the pavilion just after dusk and chuckled at the clearly fake plastic owl on the picnic table ... until I flapped out my tent and the very real owl flew within inches of my face. Maybe it’s time for some glasses. ODOMETER: 4384.5 |
 Not too hot ... not too cold  Oregon ... I almost cried ... but I didn't want to get dehydrated.
Awkward camera angles -- another perk of riding solo |
Oregon looks a lot like Idaho so far ... but one pedal closer to the OCEAN!
DAY 99:
Couldn’t sleep again. Sick again? Popped a Benedryl … biggest mistake when you have to exercise. Drowsy extreme. Pedal counted the whole day and to make matters worse, it started to pour. I was beat and not mentally awake enough to keep riding so I stowed away in a deserted hay shack until the rain subsided. Somehow (though I don’t remember the trek at all) I made it to Baker City – where the fire department welcomed me to camp outside their station. When it started to rain again, firefighter Dan ushered me into the engine room so we clumsily moved the tent in there to dry off. Better yet, Dan offers up the office floor – we should move your tent in there so you’ll be warm. As we’re awkwardly maneuvering the tent inside … I realize … the tent itself is pretty unnecessary if I’m inside … woops. Somehow that fact slipped by both of us. I hit up the grocery store to stock up on the essentials – hello tuna and peanut butter … but splurged on some cookies for the guys at the department for letting me sleep inside – thank you! They even invited me to join them for their ‘Criminal Minds’ TV marathon hahah (just like being at home). Dan and Cliff spent the better part of the shows whipping out maps showing me cooler routes for me to take – but I decided to stick with the maps I had on me. These guys were awesome -- a veritable home away from home experience.
ODOMETER: 4426.5
Couldn’t sleep again. Sick again? Popped a Benedryl … biggest mistake when you have to exercise. Drowsy extreme. Pedal counted the whole day and to make matters worse, it started to pour. I was beat and not mentally awake enough to keep riding so I stowed away in a deserted hay shack until the rain subsided. Somehow (though I don’t remember the trek at all) I made it to Baker City – where the fire department welcomed me to camp outside their station. When it started to rain again, firefighter Dan ushered me into the engine room so we clumsily moved the tent in there to dry off. Better yet, Dan offers up the office floor – we should move your tent in there so you’ll be warm. As we’re awkwardly maneuvering the tent inside … I realize … the tent itself is pretty unnecessary if I’m inside … woops. Somehow that fact slipped by both of us. I hit up the grocery store to stock up on the essentials – hello tuna and peanut butter … but splurged on some cookies for the guys at the department for letting me sleep inside – thank you! They even invited me to join them for their ‘Criminal Minds’ TV marathon hahah (just like being at home). Dan and Cliff spent the better part of the shows whipping out maps showing me cooler routes for me to take – but I decided to stick with the maps I had on me. These guys were awesome -- a veritable home away from home experience.
ODOMETER: 4426.5
OREGON OH OREGON
DAY 100:
Nothing wakes you up quite like a 5 AM call to dispatch for a possible drug overdose. It took me a few seconds to remember that I was sleeping inside the Fire Dept Office. The shift changed and I met a new bunch of guys. Over breakfast, BJ educated me on the FFI and FFII trainings they have to go through and the side projects they are assigned between calls (no, they don’t just sit around!). When he heard where I was headed, he too, whipped out some maps and tried to find a more interesting route – hahha apparently a common hobby of the Baker City Fire Dept.
Before leaving my favorite city so far (it was the perfect amalgamation of city, suburb, country town and had such a historical character to it) I went to the bike shop to see if they could help me out. Loose bearings for the past couple weeks have made for a “fish tailing” experience – I was told it is a normal occurrence due excessive wear … who knew 4000 miles was excess wear huh? There wasn’t much he could do for me, tightened it up but had no parts to fix it. Off I go!
Nothing wakes you up quite like a 5 AM call to dispatch for a possible drug overdose. It took me a few seconds to remember that I was sleeping inside the Fire Dept Office. The shift changed and I met a new bunch of guys. Over breakfast, BJ educated me on the FFI and FFII trainings they have to go through and the side projects they are assigned between calls (no, they don’t just sit around!). When he heard where I was headed, he too, whipped out some maps and tried to find a more interesting route – hahha apparently a common hobby of the Baker City Fire Dept.
Before leaving my favorite city so far (it was the perfect amalgamation of city, suburb, country town and had such a historical character to it) I went to the bike shop to see if they could help me out. Loose bearings for the past couple weeks have made for a “fish tailing” experience – I was told it is a normal occurrence due excessive wear … who knew 4000 miles was excess wear huh? There wasn’t much he could do for me, tightened it up but had no parts to fix it. Off I go!
Two summits on the day’s docket – Dan, Cliff and BJ all said
they were pretty bad climbs – so I was nervous getting such a late start. Scarfed down a pb&j after the first
climb and in my haste managed to cover myself with it…good thing I’m alone in
bear country again right? After
the second pass I should have had a 7 mile descent…but the elevation profile
was off – still up! I made it to
Austin Junction right after sunset.
For 5 bucks I could setup camp behind the restaurant (the land elsewhere
was pretty much inaccessible). I
set up as the temperature started dropping. I whipped out my handy-dandy can of tuna (surprise!) and
mixed it with some dry stovestop stuffing and spinach (I’m getting’ fancy!)…
and managed to spill it all over myself (I’m clumsy today yikes). I started to freak out…I’m perfect bear
bait (and they clearly have them around here – the biker set-up was complete
with bear-bag pole). I rushed
inside before they closed the shop to try to get the goop and tuna smell
off. On my way in I bumped into
the owners (Kristen and Jeff) and told them of my stupidity. To which Kristen responded “I don’t
know why I didn’t set you up in the RV in the first place! No body’s in it
they’re off hunting!”…Sweet deal.
Thanks! I plopped down in
the cozy RV plastered with farm print and drifted off to sleep feeling much
safer about the bear situation.
ODOMETER: 4479.5
ODOMETER: 4479.5
This is about where I started treating my bike like a person and doing photoshoots with it ... yikes. Riding solo makes you do strange things.
DAY 101:
Ok so I didn’t exactly ‘drift’ off to sleep. It was freezing and the temperature kept dropping – and I had had a little too much caffeine right before bed. I stared bug-eyed at the happy farm animals on the ceiling and felt my innards turn to ice. In my mind, on replay, was the scene from ‘Into the Wild’ where Chris was found rolled up in a sleeping bag, frozen and dead in an RV … cheery thought when you’re alone eh?
The sun peeked out over the mountains and I clambered out of the RV to find a healthy dose of frost on my gear. After thawing out I climbed the last of the 3 passes – Dixie pass and then down to Prairie City (stopping along the way at the covered wagon tourist trap! – how could I resist?). I was feeling strong, despite the lack of sleep and I pushed through John Day, Mt. Vernon into Dayville … tackin’ on the miles. It was worth the extra umph to get to Dayville – there was a bike hostel in the town church. Rose acclimated me to the hostel which, over the years has grown (from donations from cyclists) to include all the comforts of home. It’s been so long since I’ve been home that I’d forgotten what it was like to cook in a kitchen, and throw clothes in the washing machine instead of scrubbing them by hand in a sink. Must. Not. Stay. Too long. Don’t want to get sucked into the homey atmosphere. Too comfortable!
ODOMETER: 4540.5
Ok so I didn’t exactly ‘drift’ off to sleep. It was freezing and the temperature kept dropping – and I had had a little too much caffeine right before bed. I stared bug-eyed at the happy farm animals on the ceiling and felt my innards turn to ice. In my mind, on replay, was the scene from ‘Into the Wild’ where Chris was found rolled up in a sleeping bag, frozen and dead in an RV … cheery thought when you’re alone eh?
The sun peeked out over the mountains and I clambered out of the RV to find a healthy dose of frost on my gear. After thawing out I climbed the last of the 3 passes – Dixie pass and then down to Prairie City (stopping along the way at the covered wagon tourist trap! – how could I resist?). I was feeling strong, despite the lack of sleep and I pushed through John Day, Mt. Vernon into Dayville … tackin’ on the miles. It was worth the extra umph to get to Dayville – there was a bike hostel in the town church. Rose acclimated me to the hostel which, over the years has grown (from donations from cyclists) to include all the comforts of home. It’s been so long since I’ve been home that I’d forgotten what it was like to cook in a kitchen, and throw clothes in the washing machine instead of scrubbing them by hand in a sink. Must. Not. Stay. Too long. Don’t want to get sucked into the homey atmosphere. Too comfortable!
ODOMETER: 4540.5
On the other side of Picture Gorge ... more like Picture Gorge-ous ... HAAA ...?!
Absolute middle of nowhere ... the SHOE TREE.
DAY 102:
I knew it was going to be hard leaving the cushy hostel. It was so nice to be out of the elements, to not have to expend so much energy on body temperature regulation – but I’ve got to get to the coast somehow. 30-mile uphill stretch to come. (is this whole trip uphill?? Seriously feels like it.) Picture-Gorge came and went … more like Picture-Gorgeous! Ayo?! (beautiful, and obviously picturesque) but sadly there was construction work and flaggers all about so there was no way I could stop and take a picture. I stopped for lunch in a bunch of prickles on the side of the road . (You may think that’s irrelevant ... but just you wait!)
The climb continues on a shoulderless, windy, bouncy road. Bouncy? Agahh My bike was bobbing up and down – that wonderfully familiar feeling of a tire going flat. There was no place to pull over, cars and trucks whizzing around the curves so I kept pedaling and hoping for a safe place to stop and change my tube. Shhlerrp shhlerp shhlerp … shhlepp shhhlepp … shhlunk. (For those of you who don’t speak flat tire – that was me riding until I was down to the rims.) Still no place to pull over, but nothing left to ride on. With some quick thinking, I flung off my bright yellow panniers, and spread out my neon pink emergency crinkle blanket into a makeshift C-shaped barricade. I moved up 10 yards or so, flipped over my bike and got to the repairs – my hope was that anyone speeding around the corner would see the florescent barricade, slow down (give me space?) and at worst, someone would drive over and smash a pannier (with my prized tuna fish — oh no!) But all was fine – and I found the culprit – stupid prickle from lunchtime (see, told you it wasn’t irrelevant!) Crazy weather for the rest of the ride, hot tank-top-temps on the way up, and freezing cold put-on-all-your-layers-and-then-some temperatures on the way down into Mitchell. A quick jog to the left and you’re into the short Business Loop … but nowadays its more of an Out-of-Business Loop: 2 closed grocery stores and a few other shut down shops. They did, however, have a very nice Lion’s Club park, where bikers were allowed to pitch tents. Once I set up, I found the one, dysfunctional payphone in the town without service. I took turns wasting quarters on the calls that didn’t go through with a guy fresh off the hunt, who was desperately trying to put through a collect call to Kelly Rippa … THE Kelly Rippa? Who knows, but this did seem like a place where you could escape the limelight.
Before heading back to my tent I met the dynamic duo of Brian and Brian who excitedly showed me the elk they took down in their trunk (gross). And of course, no night is complete without the obligatory can of tuna. (But! I recently found out – women of my size should be eating no more than 1.5 cans per week, and women of childbearing age shouldn’t consume it at all! Plus, I thought chunk white was the best to eat, but it turns out that has even more mercury than chunk light – let’s aim for no mercury poisoning, shall we?)
ODOMETER: 4579.5
I knew it was going to be hard leaving the cushy hostel. It was so nice to be out of the elements, to not have to expend so much energy on body temperature regulation – but I’ve got to get to the coast somehow. 30-mile uphill stretch to come. (is this whole trip uphill?? Seriously feels like it.) Picture-Gorge came and went … more like Picture-Gorgeous! Ayo?! (beautiful, and obviously picturesque) but sadly there was construction work and flaggers all about so there was no way I could stop and take a picture. I stopped for lunch in a bunch of prickles on the side of the road . (You may think that’s irrelevant ... but just you wait!)
The climb continues on a shoulderless, windy, bouncy road. Bouncy? Agahh My bike was bobbing up and down – that wonderfully familiar feeling of a tire going flat. There was no place to pull over, cars and trucks whizzing around the curves so I kept pedaling and hoping for a safe place to stop and change my tube. Shhlerrp shhlerp shhlerp … shhlepp shhhlepp … shhlunk. (For those of you who don’t speak flat tire – that was me riding until I was down to the rims.) Still no place to pull over, but nothing left to ride on. With some quick thinking, I flung off my bright yellow panniers, and spread out my neon pink emergency crinkle blanket into a makeshift C-shaped barricade. I moved up 10 yards or so, flipped over my bike and got to the repairs – my hope was that anyone speeding around the corner would see the florescent barricade, slow down (give me space?) and at worst, someone would drive over and smash a pannier (with my prized tuna fish — oh no!) But all was fine – and I found the culprit – stupid prickle from lunchtime (see, told you it wasn’t irrelevant!) Crazy weather for the rest of the ride, hot tank-top-temps on the way up, and freezing cold put-on-all-your-layers-and-then-some temperatures on the way down into Mitchell. A quick jog to the left and you’re into the short Business Loop … but nowadays its more of an Out-of-Business Loop: 2 closed grocery stores and a few other shut down shops. They did, however, have a very nice Lion’s Club park, where bikers were allowed to pitch tents. Once I set up, I found the one, dysfunctional payphone in the town without service. I took turns wasting quarters on the calls that didn’t go through with a guy fresh off the hunt, who was desperately trying to put through a collect call to Kelly Rippa … THE Kelly Rippa? Who knows, but this did seem like a place where you could escape the limelight.
Before heading back to my tent I met the dynamic duo of Brian and Brian who excitedly showed me the elk they took down in their trunk (gross). And of course, no night is complete without the obligatory can of tuna. (But! I recently found out – women of my size should be eating no more than 1.5 cans per week, and women of childbearing age shouldn’t consume it at all! Plus, I thought chunk white was the best to eat, but it turns out that has even more mercury than chunk light – let’s aim for no mercury poisoning, shall we?)
ODOMETER: 4579.5
Ochoco Pass
DAY 103:
Rain rain rain, cold. Rain, cold rain. Not too much sleep to be had. Chest and back pain coupled with a tweaked-out left arm that was constantly falling asleep, oh and the rain … I had no interest in biking. I procrastinated until noon, hoping the rain would subside … but who am I kidding? It’s Oregon and October … the rain is just getting started – so if I ever want to get to that coast, I’m going to have to get my tush back on my bike. Uphill again and every mile is a battle (why am I doing this again?). I reached the top of Ochoco Pass and stop to put on dry clothes. The mixture of pea soup fog and sweat was not a great combination on a frigid afternoon. Trying to warm up at this rest-stop in the middle of nowhere, I meet Suzie – who, with a strong mothering instinct, tries to pump me up with cookies and granola bars. “I’m all set but thank you!” … “no” was not the correct answer, she wouldn’t let me go with out a little sugar – hahh thank you for the boost.
Excited by the 30-miles of downhill promised by the elevation profile, I hopped back on ready to cruise. SO DISAPPOINTING … I had to pedal DOWN the hill – no free ride – none of it felt like the descent I felt I had earned from the painstaking uphill. Wiped out and defeated I arrived in Prineville where I camped alongside the town park (warned of the sprinkler system that goes off behind the Fire Dept). Having had bad luck with sprinklers in the past, I cautiously chose a spot.
ODOMETER: 4628
Rain rain rain, cold. Rain, cold rain. Not too much sleep to be had. Chest and back pain coupled with a tweaked-out left arm that was constantly falling asleep, oh and the rain … I had no interest in biking. I procrastinated until noon, hoping the rain would subside … but who am I kidding? It’s Oregon and October … the rain is just getting started – so if I ever want to get to that coast, I’m going to have to get my tush back on my bike. Uphill again and every mile is a battle (why am I doing this again?). I reached the top of Ochoco Pass and stop to put on dry clothes. The mixture of pea soup fog and sweat was not a great combination on a frigid afternoon. Trying to warm up at this rest-stop in the middle of nowhere, I meet Suzie – who, with a strong mothering instinct, tries to pump me up with cookies and granola bars. “I’m all set but thank you!” … “no” was not the correct answer, she wouldn’t let me go with out a little sugar – hahh thank you for the boost.
Excited by the 30-miles of downhill promised by the elevation profile, I hopped back on ready to cruise. SO DISAPPOINTING … I had to pedal DOWN the hill – no free ride – none of it felt like the descent I felt I had earned from the painstaking uphill. Wiped out and defeated I arrived in Prineville where I camped alongside the town park (warned of the sprinkler system that goes off behind the Fire Dept). Having had bad luck with sprinklers in the past, I cautiously chose a spot.
ODOMETER: 4628
DAY 104:
As I was chowing down on some breakfast (bananas and peanut butter – joy!) I was congratulated by the kids studying at the Fire Dept for having escaped the sprinkler system. As they were warming up for their early morning game of Frisbee and getting the low-down on my trip … I hear the familiar. Dudtz. Fipp … the sprinkler system rises through the turf in slow motion, mocking me … tssstsstss … tsstsstss … and begins its watering regimen. SOAKED. If only I had put away my tent before breakfast. Live and learn.
I biked off to Redmond and then to Sisters, OR. I got such a strange vibe from Sisters. It was as if half of the town was just for tourists, just for show …and then you keep going and the character completely changes. As I set up shop for the night, I had the heebie jeebies and my tent was pretty exposed. Maybe its just the paranoia that starts to creep in when you’ve been traveling alone for awhile – but I busted out my ipod touch to google the crime rate in Sisters and was so tense that I slept white-knuckled, clutching my knife (not the best of pillows).
ODOMETER: 4667
DAY 105:
Slow crunching of leaves. I wake up abruptly. The sound approaches my tent. It’s dark. What time is it? 5:30 AM. OK first. Is this just a small animal? Or is this a person? Smush crinkle. Pause. Smush crinkle. Pause. Calculated steps, must be a person. Maybe it’s just a freaked-out National Forest Ranger – I probably shouldn’t be camped here. But 5:30? I wait until I hear the steps fade away – it’s so hard to tell, are they gone? Half an hour passes and I haven’t heard a peep – they must be gone. Zipper in one hand, knife in the other I gingerly pry open the tent. Zzzzztttt …
Gruff voice: “APPLE?” …. (hoooooly shit) Not a few feet from the tent vestibule sits a strange man, arm out-stretched with a large, shiny, buffed, perfect red delicious apple. My mind races back to Disney’s Snow White and the Evil Queen with her poisonous apple (the precious lesson learned at age 5: never take apples from strangers, thanks Disney!) The grip on my concealed weapon grows stronger. Keep breathing woman! – can’t do anything if you pass out. I wave away the apple “I’m all set, thanks.” Anthony (apple man) goes into a frenzy of chatter – he just dropped his daughter off at work (on his bike?), he comes here every morning, he just moved here from out of town, trying to get settled, and wouldn’t I like an apple? Did I know about the bear shot down the street? He pauses to take a swig from his plastic cup. Or the mountain lion that passed through a few weeks back? And are you sure you wouldn’t like an apple? Good energy, nice sugar-apple? No? We chatted as I packed up my stuff, but I wasn’t about to go for tea and crumpets with this guy. Maybe I prematurely judged a man who just ‘liked the conversation’ malevolently … but I wasn’t going to wait around and see. Off to Mackenzie Pass – my last pass before … the PACIFIC! Before leaving Sisters I popped into a store to buy some cheap plastic pants for the rain (I knew the 5000 foot descent would be freezing without them) and ran into one of the guys from the Fire Dept in Prineville. He offered me a ride – but there’s no way I was going to let anyone take away that 5000 foot drop to sea level that I had worked so hard for – even if it was going to be nasty, wet and cold.
Slow crunching of leaves. I wake up abruptly. The sound approaches my tent. It’s dark. What time is it? 5:30 AM. OK first. Is this just a small animal? Or is this a person? Smush crinkle. Pause. Smush crinkle. Pause. Calculated steps, must be a person. Maybe it’s just a freaked-out National Forest Ranger – I probably shouldn’t be camped here. But 5:30? I wait until I hear the steps fade away – it’s so hard to tell, are they gone? Half an hour passes and I haven’t heard a peep – they must be gone. Zipper in one hand, knife in the other I gingerly pry open the tent. Zzzzztttt …
Gruff voice: “APPLE?” …. (hoooooly shit) Not a few feet from the tent vestibule sits a strange man, arm out-stretched with a large, shiny, buffed, perfect red delicious apple. My mind races back to Disney’s Snow White and the Evil Queen with her poisonous apple (the precious lesson learned at age 5: never take apples from strangers, thanks Disney!) The grip on my concealed weapon grows stronger. Keep breathing woman! – can’t do anything if you pass out. I wave away the apple “I’m all set, thanks.” Anthony (apple man) goes into a frenzy of chatter – he just dropped his daughter off at work (on his bike?), he comes here every morning, he just moved here from out of town, trying to get settled, and wouldn’t I like an apple? Did I know about the bear shot down the street? He pauses to take a swig from his plastic cup. Or the mountain lion that passed through a few weeks back? And are you sure you wouldn’t like an apple? Good energy, nice sugar-apple? No? We chatted as I packed up my stuff, but I wasn’t about to go for tea and crumpets with this guy. Maybe I prematurely judged a man who just ‘liked the conversation’ malevolently … but I wasn’t going to wait around and see. Off to Mackenzie Pass – my last pass before … the PACIFIC! Before leaving Sisters I popped into a store to buy some cheap plastic pants for the rain (I knew the 5000 foot descent would be freezing without them) and ran into one of the guys from the Fire Dept in Prineville. He offered me a ride – but there’s no way I was going to let anyone take away that 5000 foot drop to sea level that I had worked so hard for – even if it was going to be nasty, wet and cold.
Who wants to play 'Where's Waldo' with my bike? eh? eh?
Mckenzie Pass: grim, grim, grim & freezing. Who cares?? LAST PASS to the coast!
The top of Mackenzie Pass was dismal. Gray lava rocks littered the landscape and blended in with
the drizzly day. Apparently on a clear day, you can look
through the rock observatory windows (above) and see Mt. Washington and Mt. Hood. But today all you could see was
endless blechh. DESCENT DESCENT
DESCENT! Scary hairpin turns and
slick roads – but what did I care?
There was nothing between me and the coast now. As I cruised down from 5000 to 4000 to
2000 the colors came back -- it was as if someone threw up Fruity Pebbles in
honor of the completion of my last
peak. Bright orange needles,
vibrant red and yellow leaves … all mushy from the rain. A magical, color-infused descent
coupled with the intense high I was feeling for completing my last pass – it
was a surreal experience. I was
frozen and soaked so I stopped short in Mackenzie Bridges and spent another
night freaked out, knife in hand … with the added worry of being back in bear
country. It’s getting hard to
remember a night where I fell peacefully asleep without worry of what might be
lurking in the darkness.
ODOMETER: 4710.5
ODOMETER: 4710.5
DAY 106:
50 miles from Mackenzie Bridges to Springfield … getting drenched every single mile by Oregon’s rainy season. I had to stop early. I was so cold and soaked that I couldn’t brake properly. The guys at the Fire Dept welcomed me to the Community Room (after deciding that I probably wasn’t a crackhead or a meth addict). Knowing how innocuous I am, it was funny to overhear ‘No boss, she looks clean but if I’m dead in the morning you’ll know what’s what.’
ODOMETER: 4759
50 miles from Mackenzie Bridges to Springfield … getting drenched every single mile by Oregon’s rainy season. I had to stop early. I was so cold and soaked that I couldn’t brake properly. The guys at the Fire Dept welcomed me to the Community Room (after deciding that I probably wasn’t a crackhead or a meth addict). Knowing how innocuous I am, it was funny to overhear ‘No boss, she looks clean but if I’m dead in the morning you’ll know what’s what.’
ODOMETER: 4759
weird Dan-Amtrak pseudo-postcard in lieu of arrival photo I didn't take
DAY 107:
The shift changed and the morning guys were more relaxed (maybe because they didn’t have to spend the night with the possible meth monger in their Community Room – I kid. Anyway) They invited me to take a tour of the station. I’ve been to a few stations over the past couple months, but none as ginormous as this one. We chatted over coffee and they gave me a must-read book list to supplement my travels – on the docket: Maiden Voyage, True Spirit and The Black Wave. If I didn’t already have 3 books loading me down, I would have been tempted to start one right away. And then of course there’s Dan, who would probably yell at me in a few hours for loading down my bike with unnecessary weight. Did I mention Dan’s coming back? I received an early morning call from Dan in Portland who was hopping on a train (bike and all) to Eugene to meet up and bike to Cali with me. Woopie! I won’t be alone! I bust out the few miles to Eugene and spend the afternoon trying to get my soaked and mildewing clothes clean at the good ol’ Laundromat. Dan won’t be in until almost nine, so I’m in charge of figuring out where to camp. This is the first real ‘city’ I biked through (though not quite as populated) imagine trying to find a cozy camping spot in the middle of Boston, or New York City. Yea, not going to happen. I started feeling sick biking back and forth through city traffic, worried about where we could spend the night. I ran into a woman who suggested camping at the Outdoor Adventure Program and took me on a long windy route to get there – but they were closed. A fever kicked in, and I gave up the search for a tent site and sat at the Amtrak station waiting for Dan-the-man to arrive.
Right as my eyes blinked shut the Amtrak intercom announced the train’s arrival … and out popped Dan – I think? If it hadn’t been for the loaded bike, I wouldn’t have recognized this beardless version of my bike buddy. I briefed him on the lack of camping opportunities and we considered going back to the Outdoor Ed Place. We were debating how understanding this city run organization would be if they found us camping on their property – not wanting to be charged with trespassing. Mid-discussion the parade began. I’m not sure where they all came from, but half a dozen homeless folk were converging, blankets in hand, towards the city park riverbank. We waited until they found their spots to follow suit and tried to find a place out of sight. Up the hill, perfect spot! – such a good spot that it was already occupied. Let’s try over there? As we descended, an old man came into view. He was peeling off his uniform and folding it carefully on top of his full shopping cart. A veteran. We moved on and finally settled in an alcove in the sand – hoping we hadn’t just sniped somebody’s ‘home.’
ODOMETER: 4767
The shift changed and the morning guys were more relaxed (maybe because they didn’t have to spend the night with the possible meth monger in their Community Room – I kid. Anyway) They invited me to take a tour of the station. I’ve been to a few stations over the past couple months, but none as ginormous as this one. We chatted over coffee and they gave me a must-read book list to supplement my travels – on the docket: Maiden Voyage, True Spirit and The Black Wave. If I didn’t already have 3 books loading me down, I would have been tempted to start one right away. And then of course there’s Dan, who would probably yell at me in a few hours for loading down my bike with unnecessary weight. Did I mention Dan’s coming back? I received an early morning call from Dan in Portland who was hopping on a train (bike and all) to Eugene to meet up and bike to Cali with me. Woopie! I won’t be alone! I bust out the few miles to Eugene and spend the afternoon trying to get my soaked and mildewing clothes clean at the good ol’ Laundromat. Dan won’t be in until almost nine, so I’m in charge of figuring out where to camp. This is the first real ‘city’ I biked through (though not quite as populated) imagine trying to find a cozy camping spot in the middle of Boston, or New York City. Yea, not going to happen. I started feeling sick biking back and forth through city traffic, worried about where we could spend the night. I ran into a woman who suggested camping at the Outdoor Adventure Program and took me on a long windy route to get there – but they were closed. A fever kicked in, and I gave up the search for a tent site and sat at the Amtrak station waiting for Dan-the-man to arrive.
Right as my eyes blinked shut the Amtrak intercom announced the train’s arrival … and out popped Dan – I think? If it hadn’t been for the loaded bike, I wouldn’t have recognized this beardless version of my bike buddy. I briefed him on the lack of camping opportunities and we considered going back to the Outdoor Ed Place. We were debating how understanding this city run organization would be if they found us camping on their property – not wanting to be charged with trespassing. Mid-discussion the parade began. I’m not sure where they all came from, but half a dozen homeless folk were converging, blankets in hand, towards the city park riverbank. We waited until they found their spots to follow suit and tried to find a place out of sight. Up the hill, perfect spot! – such a good spot that it was already occupied. Let’s try over there? As we descended, an old man came into view. He was peeling off his uniform and folding it carefully on top of his full shopping cart. A veteran. We moved on and finally settled in an alcove in the sand – hoping we hadn’t just sniped somebody’s ‘home.’
ODOMETER: 4767
DAY 108:
We spent a few hours that night chowing down on Dan’s 5 lb bag of granola that he’d just made and caught each other up on the past few weeks apart. Dan had run into the Ecos again in Portland who were still busy preaching and not practicing. And for the first night in a looong time, I didn’t sleep with a knife in hand … that was Dan’s job!
I woke up to middle-of-the-night footsteps -- Dan’s still asleep ... that knife’s not so useful if you’re unconscious! I nudged him awake – YO! What’s that?? It started to sound more like a big dog than a person … it wasn’t more than a few yards away. It heads down to the water and starts chewing. Ok definitely not a person but what is it? It scuttled under the moonlight – not a big dog. It was walking like a drunken cat, waddling from side to side. We decided it must be a muskrat … mostly because neither of us knew what a muskrat was or looked like … so this must be one.
And then there was another.
And then they were mating.
Nature at its finest. Giggling ensued (Shhhh Dan! You’re ruining their moment! – just kidding I was laughing hysterically too).
As I crawled out of our hovel the following morning, I was greeted by the site of a homeless man in a wheelchair staring at us. How long had he been there? We packed up our stuff and headed to the post office (where Dan made me get rid of half the stuff on my bike). Possibly in response to being alone all the time, I had started to collect things and my bike was definitely unnecessarily weighted down. The primary reason for the post office stop: I had called Mountain Hardware a week or so ago to get them to send me a new tent pole for the one that was failing so often. After a lengthy chat about how I needed a LONG pole not the SHORT one that holds the door – I went to pick up the one shipped to Eugene. Oh hello short pole – they sent me the wrong one. Useful. We hit up the Public Library and were confronted with an internet fee? Strange, stuffy, un-welcoming library.
Dan and I, ready to leave crowded Eugene, were pumped to get back to the isolated roads. We camped on another riverbank for the night, with an awesome campfire (once it got started … only an hour or so to light wet branches – good job DAN!) We feasted on cold re-hydrated mashed sweet-potato flakes (which aren’t too shabby, as long as your hopes aren’t set on Grandma’s Thanksgiving buttery, mashed delicacy).
Stuffed, we set up a slanted tarp shelter – nothing like falling asleep with field mice scuttling over your sleeping bag.
ODOMETER: 4794
We spent a few hours that night chowing down on Dan’s 5 lb bag of granola that he’d just made and caught each other up on the past few weeks apart. Dan had run into the Ecos again in Portland who were still busy preaching and not practicing. And for the first night in a looong time, I didn’t sleep with a knife in hand … that was Dan’s job!
I woke up to middle-of-the-night footsteps -- Dan’s still asleep ... that knife’s not so useful if you’re unconscious! I nudged him awake – YO! What’s that?? It started to sound more like a big dog than a person … it wasn’t more than a few yards away. It heads down to the water and starts chewing. Ok definitely not a person but what is it? It scuttled under the moonlight – not a big dog. It was walking like a drunken cat, waddling from side to side. We decided it must be a muskrat … mostly because neither of us knew what a muskrat was or looked like … so this must be one.
And then there was another.
And then they were mating.
Nature at its finest. Giggling ensued (Shhhh Dan! You’re ruining their moment! – just kidding I was laughing hysterically too).
As I crawled out of our hovel the following morning, I was greeted by the site of a homeless man in a wheelchair staring at us. How long had he been there? We packed up our stuff and headed to the post office (where Dan made me get rid of half the stuff on my bike). Possibly in response to being alone all the time, I had started to collect things and my bike was definitely unnecessarily weighted down. The primary reason for the post office stop: I had called Mountain Hardware a week or so ago to get them to send me a new tent pole for the one that was failing so often. After a lengthy chat about how I needed a LONG pole not the SHORT one that holds the door – I went to pick up the one shipped to Eugene. Oh hello short pole – they sent me the wrong one. Useful. We hit up the Public Library and were confronted with an internet fee? Strange, stuffy, un-welcoming library.
Dan and I, ready to leave crowded Eugene, were pumped to get back to the isolated roads. We camped on another riverbank for the night, with an awesome campfire (once it got started … only an hour or so to light wet branches – good job DAN!) We feasted on cold re-hydrated mashed sweet-potato flakes (which aren’t too shabby, as long as your hopes aren’t set on Grandma’s Thanksgiving buttery, mashed delicacy).
Stuffed, we set up a slanted tarp shelter – nothing like falling asleep with field mice scuttling over your sleeping bag.
ODOMETER: 4794
Dan checking out the map (and waiting for me to catch up!)
DAY 109:
Welcome to the WEST COAST. I have been waiting and working for this day for 3 and a half long months. I couldn’t suppress my excitement. Since we were camping in a valley, the sun rose late and we hit the road close to noon. It’s ok, we can still make it to the ocean today … only 30 miles to Florence and I can CHUCK MY BIKE IN THE PACIFIC OCEAN ... Oh my GODDD so excited. 3 miles from Florence and Dan becomes enamored of the idea of going into the Casino we’re currently passing. SO CLOSE 3 miles. THREE. I just want to get to the oceannn … but it’s still early, there’s time to hit up the Casino and still make it to the water by sunset. Oh sunset on the Pacific, how wonderful! We head into the casino (my first time!) and both walk out winners. I’m happy to boast an 860% return rate thank you very much (of course, I only put in a dollar but still!) OK ok time for the Coast let’s go!
The sun is quickly setting so we pull off into the first coastal campground. There’s a $5 fee, which Dan isn’t too pleased about, since up until now it’s pretty much been free National Forest campgrounds. It’s a sandy campground – not a plus in Dan’s book – and KK there are all these ATVs and noise and sand dunes! … But what’s a sand dune after 5000 miles of mountains? What’s some extra ATV noise when I’ve camped in the city? If it’s just 5 bucks standing between me and the ocean – I’ll throw my whole fricken wallet at you – let’s go!!
Dan wants to weigh our options more … the sun is going down and I’m getting impatient … I just want to get the Coast before dark. In my mind we wasted all that time at the casino when we could have continued biking, made it to a different site and we’d already be at the OCEAN. I can see Dan isn’t wavering in his opinion of this campground and he’s already hit the coast, so what does he care if we don’t make it today? I whip my bike around – FINE, SCREW the Coast! Let’s just go somewhere free, let’s GO before it gets DARK. (Have you met grumpy KK?) I pump up the hill and wait for Dan at the top, explain why I’m so frustrated and burst into tears. This isn’t quite the idyllic way I had imagined reaching Pacific waters. The thought of this day, built up in my mind for over three months, got me through my illnesses, up all those mountain ranges – and was now ruined. I couldn’t get Dan to understand. And so in true kindergarten style our argument ended with: Dan: “Well if you’re going to be like this, maybe I don’t want to ride to CA with you!” KK: “Well FINE then DON’T” … FINE. I angrily stomped away at my pedals wanting to get as far away as possible. I pedaled into the dark until I realized I should set up camp. And the lovely day continued.
It wasn’t exactly a campground that I pulled into – more of a day site – but I figured it was safe enough. I flung out my tent and started to assemble it. Cccrrrrr SNAP. Shit seriously? My tent broke. AGAIN. I’ve included the drawings of my frustrating tent experience (straight from my journal – lucky you!)
ODOMETER: 4835
Welcome to the WEST COAST. I have been waiting and working for this day for 3 and a half long months. I couldn’t suppress my excitement. Since we were camping in a valley, the sun rose late and we hit the road close to noon. It’s ok, we can still make it to the ocean today … only 30 miles to Florence and I can CHUCK MY BIKE IN THE PACIFIC OCEAN ... Oh my GODDD so excited. 3 miles from Florence and Dan becomes enamored of the idea of going into the Casino we’re currently passing. SO CLOSE 3 miles. THREE. I just want to get to the oceannn … but it’s still early, there’s time to hit up the Casino and still make it to the water by sunset. Oh sunset on the Pacific, how wonderful! We head into the casino (my first time!) and both walk out winners. I’m happy to boast an 860% return rate thank you very much (of course, I only put in a dollar but still!) OK ok time for the Coast let’s go!
The sun is quickly setting so we pull off into the first coastal campground. There’s a $5 fee, which Dan isn’t too pleased about, since up until now it’s pretty much been free National Forest campgrounds. It’s a sandy campground – not a plus in Dan’s book – and KK there are all these ATVs and noise and sand dunes! … But what’s a sand dune after 5000 miles of mountains? What’s some extra ATV noise when I’ve camped in the city? If it’s just 5 bucks standing between me and the ocean – I’ll throw my whole fricken wallet at you – let’s go!!
Dan wants to weigh our options more … the sun is going down and I’m getting impatient … I just want to get the Coast before dark. In my mind we wasted all that time at the casino when we could have continued biking, made it to a different site and we’d already be at the OCEAN. I can see Dan isn’t wavering in his opinion of this campground and he’s already hit the coast, so what does he care if we don’t make it today? I whip my bike around – FINE, SCREW the Coast! Let’s just go somewhere free, let’s GO before it gets DARK. (Have you met grumpy KK?) I pump up the hill and wait for Dan at the top, explain why I’m so frustrated and burst into tears. This isn’t quite the idyllic way I had imagined reaching Pacific waters. The thought of this day, built up in my mind for over three months, got me through my illnesses, up all those mountain ranges – and was now ruined. I couldn’t get Dan to understand. And so in true kindergarten style our argument ended with: Dan: “Well if you’re going to be like this, maybe I don’t want to ride to CA with you!” KK: “Well FINE then DON’T” … FINE. I angrily stomped away at my pedals wanting to get as far away as possible. I pedaled into the dark until I realized I should set up camp. And the lovely day continued.
It wasn’t exactly a campground that I pulled into – more of a day site – but I figured it was safe enough. I flung out my tent and started to assemble it. Cccrrrrr SNAP. Shit seriously? My tent broke. AGAIN. I’ve included the drawings of my frustrating tent experience (straight from my journal – lucky you!)
ODOMETER: 4835
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1. My tent pole broke in a third spot 2. I tried to pitch it anyway ... with no success 3. I experimented with some tarp shelters and a picnic table ... suffocatingly low (note the loud splooshing fish in the background) 4. Used my bike to fashion a new higher tarp shelter ... but then the raccoons arrived to attack (see the plants and raccoons in the upper right corner? ... I'm such an artiste!) |
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5. Moved to a different table, but I forgot that raccoons have legs and are just as capable of relocating as I am. Stepped in raccoon poop. (I apologize for the expletive -- my journal gets the brunt of my frustration and is therefore rarely in proper english) 6. Contemplated sleeping in the vault toilet after having heard stories of a guy waiting out a storm in one . 7. I'm no princess but it was way too stinky! and I couldn't protect my bike/food by leaving those in the vault because they didn't fit . 8. Final tarp shelter fashioned by using the vault toilet as a wall -- did I mention how sketchy this site was yet? Who's got two thumbs and slept with a knife under her 'pillow'? ... This girl! |
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DAY 110:
I’m not sure who was more freaked out by the 1 AM encounter: the guy who came to use the vault toilet, or me huddled up against the wall in my make-shift tarp shelter. A flashlight toggled over my tent (ok so there’s no way of hiding the fact that I’m here), regardless, I stay as still as possible. I have the advantage here – who would attack a tent when they didn’t know what size person was inside right? Element of surprise? No? True or not, that’s what kept me calm.
For the rest of the night I played the ‘noise game.’ I hear a noise and see how quickly I can identify what makes it so I can calm down and sleep again. 17 snapping branches, 6 fish jumping, 4 raccoons creepin’, one man crawling, and a partridge in a pear tree. Ok, I wasn’t quite so neurotic as to count, but it was a nerve-wracking night.
Thick fog to greet me in the morning, I dawdled, knowing that Dan wakes up late. I figured I had a better chance of bumping into him since I was pretty sure he hadn’t biked up this far. Why don’t I just call him? Well for one, he left his charger in Portland … and for two: mine was dead. I set out, map-less (yep Dan had those). But it’s pretty straightforward – Route 101 to 1. No sign of Dan all day. I got a plumbing piece at the hardware store for a temp tent fix. I took a “quick detour” to the Umpqua Lighthouse (hoping today could be my coastal bike dip). I didn’t realize how high up I was until I had to climb out from the lighthouse – and it was at least a mile of dunes to get the the water :( Found a hiker/biker campsite at Tugman State Park and had just enough battery juice to receive a text from Chris letting me know that Dan was fine (but where is he??)
ODOMETER: 4861
I’m not sure who was more freaked out by the 1 AM encounter: the guy who came to use the vault toilet, or me huddled up against the wall in my make-shift tarp shelter. A flashlight toggled over my tent (ok so there’s no way of hiding the fact that I’m here), regardless, I stay as still as possible. I have the advantage here – who would attack a tent when they didn’t know what size person was inside right? Element of surprise? No? True or not, that’s what kept me calm.
For the rest of the night I played the ‘noise game.’ I hear a noise and see how quickly I can identify what makes it so I can calm down and sleep again. 17 snapping branches, 6 fish jumping, 4 raccoons creepin’, one man crawling, and a partridge in a pear tree. Ok, I wasn’t quite so neurotic as to count, but it was a nerve-wracking night.
Thick fog to greet me in the morning, I dawdled, knowing that Dan wakes up late. I figured I had a better chance of bumping into him since I was pretty sure he hadn’t biked up this far. Why don’t I just call him? Well for one, he left his charger in Portland … and for two: mine was dead. I set out, map-less (yep Dan had those). But it’s pretty straightforward – Route 101 to 1. No sign of Dan all day. I got a plumbing piece at the hardware store for a temp tent fix. I took a “quick detour” to the Umpqua Lighthouse (hoping today could be my coastal bike dip). I didn’t realize how high up I was until I had to climb out from the lighthouse – and it was at least a mile of dunes to get the the water :( Found a hiker/biker campsite at Tugman State Park and had just enough battery juice to receive a text from Chris letting me know that Dan was fine (but where is he??)
ODOMETER: 4861
My bike ... as a tourist. Look it's my boat, the K!
DAY 111:
Woke up to sunshine, for the first time in a very long while. It was one of those days you just wake up and know everything is going to be awesome. I left the campsite to go find some sun and lay out all of my soggy belongings. Just as I had laid out the last of my gear – a neon green biker shirt caught my eye. Panniers. Sleeping bag. Some prospective bike buddies? Why oh why hadn’t I left the campground through the hiker/biker exit and run into them? Agh There were three of them, but all out of shouting distance. If my bike hadn’t been torn apart I would have hopped on and raced across – but I didn’t even know if they were headed north or south. I could still catch up if they stopped for lunch though, so not to worry.
A few hours into the ride there was a mess of construction, and of course a flagger. I casually asked if she had seen any bikers today (hoping that the three I had seen were traveling south). ‘Come to think of it, we’ve had quite a bunch actually … one guy not 20 minutes ago … but no, no one in a neon green suit.’ Awesome! New people! Before lunch I caught up with the guy in front of me who told me there were lots of younsters ahead (group of 3 guys and a group of 2 guys and a girl). I busted out some more miles to Coos Bay and in Bandon, I saw my first molecule of Pacific water ...
Woke up to sunshine, for the first time in a very long while. It was one of those days you just wake up and know everything is going to be awesome. I left the campsite to go find some sun and lay out all of my soggy belongings. Just as I had laid out the last of my gear – a neon green biker shirt caught my eye. Panniers. Sleeping bag. Some prospective bike buddies? Why oh why hadn’t I left the campground through the hiker/biker exit and run into them? Agh There were three of them, but all out of shouting distance. If my bike hadn’t been torn apart I would have hopped on and raced across – but I didn’t even know if they were headed north or south. I could still catch up if they stopped for lunch though, so not to worry.
A few hours into the ride there was a mess of construction, and of course a flagger. I casually asked if she had seen any bikers today (hoping that the three I had seen were traveling south). ‘Come to think of it, we’ve had quite a bunch actually … one guy not 20 minutes ago … but no, no one in a neon green suit.’ Awesome! New people! Before lunch I caught up with the guy in front of me who told me there were lots of younsters ahead (group of 3 guys and a group of 2 guys and a girl). I busted out some more miles to Coos Bay and in Bandon, I saw my first molecule of Pacific water ...
First glimpse of Pacific waters: Bandon, Oregon ... I won't tell you how many times I ran through the muck trying to take this shot on a timer and almost face-planting ...
Face Rock, Pacific Coast -- baby!
... Ecstatic, I hopped down the bank, bike in tow, and promptly sank into the mud whilst attempting a Pacific Coast picture. Camera timers are great, except when running from rock to bike through goop. Some local guys popped over to give me a hand and told me to make sure to ride the Ocean Loop instead of straight on 101. Best advice I ever took. Fantastic views of the coast and Face Rock. I made it to Devil’s Kitchen for my first sunset on the beach. This was clearly the day I was meant to reach the Coast. Glorious.
ODOMETER: 4903
cue 'Sandstorm'
A very tired bicycle
My first Pacific Coast sunset. swoon.
DAY 112:
Naturally woken up by the sun over the Pacific Ocean, heaven. In an amazingly calm and satisfied mood, I hit the road by 8:30 AM – I wanted to get as close to the California border as possible. I assumed that once I reached the coast it would be a flat cruise to CA. Boy was I wrong. UP and down and UP and more UP and UP … but what did I care, I finally crossed the fricken country! A climb over Mt. Humbug, an ogle at Gold Beach and I kept pumping along to Harris Beach. AH hiker/biker ground … and SHOWERS. As I scoot my way down to the site … ohhhh heaven day two! The site is littered with loaded bikes and tents. Every tent was vacant for the moment but eventually I got to meet Dave (Ohio native, who works in the ski industry), Jurgen (couldn’t even make out his name at first but I could understand that he was from Germany) and Matt (a Swiss architect). So happy to have company again! So happy in fact, that I forgot to move my food bag when I went to the bathroom … and I came back to beady eyed raccoons massacring and looting my pannier. But who cares? Nothing could faze me today. I even heard back from Dan, who returned to Portland and accepted a job in MI, congrats! I was slightly bummed that he wasn’t coming to CA but still happy that he finally got a position with the Nature Conservancy. Everything was working out again. No knife in hand tonight (oooooh to feel safe!), I was lulled to sleep by the distant booping of the Harris Beach Lighthouse.
ODOMETER: 4987
Naturally woken up by the sun over the Pacific Ocean, heaven. In an amazingly calm and satisfied mood, I hit the road by 8:30 AM – I wanted to get as close to the California border as possible. I assumed that once I reached the coast it would be a flat cruise to CA. Boy was I wrong. UP and down and UP and more UP and UP … but what did I care, I finally crossed the fricken country! A climb over Mt. Humbug, an ogle at Gold Beach and I kept pumping along to Harris Beach. AH hiker/biker ground … and SHOWERS. As I scoot my way down to the site … ohhhh heaven day two! The site is littered with loaded bikes and tents. Every tent was vacant for the moment but eventually I got to meet Dave (Ohio native, who works in the ski industry), Jurgen (couldn’t even make out his name at first but I could understand that he was from Germany) and Matt (a Swiss architect). So happy to have company again! So happy in fact, that I forgot to move my food bag when I went to the bathroom … and I came back to beady eyed raccoons massacring and looting my pannier. But who cares? Nothing could faze me today. I even heard back from Dan, who returned to Portland and accepted a job in MI, congrats! I was slightly bummed that he wasn’t coming to CA but still happy that he finally got a position with the Nature Conservancy. Everything was working out again. No knife in hand tonight (oooooh to feel safe!), I was lulled to sleep by the distant booping of the Harris Beach Lighthouse.
ODOMETER: 4987
 Why Hello California! LAST STATE! Unreal. |
DAY 113:
Around 1:00 AM the scraping began. The beady-eyed monsters were mocking me for leaving my half eaten can of tuna on the table for 5 min. Scrape, scrape … scrapescrapescrape …YES it’s all gone, I get it! They stole my dinner, punks! In the morning we all decided to go our own pace but meet up at the next campsite. But we all ended up running into each other at the … WELCOME TO CALIFORNIA sign (woopie! Last state!) and biking together to Crescent City. Huffing and puffing to keep up with Matt, Dave and I are struggling – but I’ll take the pain over biking alone. We’re now entering the Redwoods, full of massively surreal trees (and lots of tourist traps! – oh hello Giant Paul Bunyon!) We pulled into Prairie Creek for the night and met two more bikers: Lucas, and Rebecca from Switzerland. Cool! I was also surprised to see a hiker I had met the other day along the road. I ran into him a few days back when he asked me how far the nearest town was. He is racing his friends to walk to a certain location … says he didn’t cheat by getting a ride … but HOW did he walk as fast as I bike? Something’s not adding up ... ODOMETER: 5043 |
Paul Bunyon in the Ave of the Giants, no kidding!
DAY 114:
The Swiss couple, Jurgen and Matt all went for a hike – but Dave and I separately set out to ride (mission: find a bike pump!). I stopped at a beach for lunch. (Beaches! ahhh I love being on the coast!) Our plan was to regroup at the KOA for the night but the city of Eureka was after the KOA so I added a nice 6-mile loop to my day to find a bike pump, success! With our large group – it only cost 3 bucks a person to camp – pretty amazing deal for showers, pool, hot tub (and my favorite, the safety of an actual campground). Even before we pitched tents, we knew there was a raccoon problem. They had stealthfully dug holes under the fence by the picnic tables. I took some of the garden rocks and patched up the holes, HA! Take THAT you beady-eyed punks! We hung our food up on the fence, patting ourselves on the back for outsmarting the raccoons.
ODOMETER: 5096
Even simple wooden shacks look awesome with the coastal backdrop...did I mention I love the Pacific?
DAY 115:
Ok so we didn’t exactly outsmart them. They are very clever lil buggers. Rustle rustlerustle … 3:30 AM Rebecca sprints out of her tent “HEYYYY! HEY HEY!” She was quick, but not fast enough. The raccoon jumped the fence, snagging her ENTIRE bag of cornflakes from the plastic bag she had hung up … without ripping it. Amazing animals. Annoying, but amazing. The next morning I realized I too had probably been a victim of the raccoons. I was missing my small toiletry bag, meds toothpaste and all …who knows maybe raccoons think tampons are candy. Yum, scrumptious. We bike separately through Eureka and Fortuna, but despite leaving at different times, taking lunch at different places, Matt, Jurgen and I all ran into each other outside Scotia. Deeper into the Redwoods, we run into Dave and a giant over-turned stump – amazingly massive. Around Redcrest, Dave pops a spoke – not cool. While Dave tries to figure out what to do, Matt runs into the store, and comes out with 6 bottles of beer that he’s planning on carrying up for the group … We all give him crap for it – where does one strap that to a bike, hm? But he shows all of us up, carrying the bottles under his arm, like a Frenchman carrying a baguette. He rides like that the remaining 10 miles to the site (all uphill, mind you) … Oh and he beat us ALL there. Showoff! This campsite was incredible. Humbolt Redwoods State Park. Go there. You’re right in the thick of the massiveness of it all. We had a fantastic fire to top it all off. ODOMETER: 5144 |
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found me some Europeans to cycle with! too bad everyone is looking at 7 different cameras, oh well
DAY 116:
Separate departure times again and by the time I reach Myers Flats, Im toast. I was pushing for Garbersville by lunch time, but its just up, up, up … UP. I’m extremely fatigued, mentally and physically. I can’t push anymore. I’m done. Hail a taxi, let’s go. I stood, dangling over my bike for 15-20 minutes … maybe longer? I couldn’t get myself out of this funk. But, right then Matt comes busting up the hill (nice surprise, I thought I was behind everybody). I chase him down to Garberville – so much easier biking with people. We ran into Jurgen once we got there, and after lunch we ran into the Swiss couple. I discovered they are the perfect pace for me as we biked together to Standish-Hickey (maybe because one of them is a girl, genius!) I don’t know how I would have made it to the campground without them. Again, it was all uphill, joy! We ran into Dave on the last hill and all biked to the campground. Another cyclist was already there. 72 years old. Man, I want to do this when I’m that old. Impressive. We waited until 9:00 (12:00 AM Ohio time) to throw a makeshift birthday celebration for Dave, woohoo!
ODOMETER: 5188
Separate departure times again and by the time I reach Myers Flats, Im toast. I was pushing for Garbersville by lunch time, but its just up, up, up … UP. I’m extremely fatigued, mentally and physically. I can’t push anymore. I’m done. Hail a taxi, let’s go. I stood, dangling over my bike for 15-20 minutes … maybe longer? I couldn’t get myself out of this funk. But, right then Matt comes busting up the hill (nice surprise, I thought I was behind everybody). I chase him down to Garberville – so much easier biking with people. We ran into Jurgen once we got there, and after lunch we ran into the Swiss couple. I discovered they are the perfect pace for me as we biked together to Standish-Hickey (maybe because one of them is a girl, genius!) I don’t know how I would have made it to the campground without them. Again, it was all uphill, joy! We ran into Dave on the last hill and all biked to the campground. Another cyclist was already there. 72 years old. Man, I want to do this when I’m that old. Impressive. We waited until 9:00 (12:00 AM Ohio time) to throw a makeshift birthday celebration for Dave, woohoo!
ODOMETER: 5188
DAY 117:
Couldn’t really sleep so I was the first out of the tents in the morning. I headed across the street to pick up something for Dave’s birthday breakfast from the store that boasted “BAKERY” on its sign. Um, they had two kinds of cookies. “Nothing says ‘Happy Birthday’ quite like a morning breakfast cookie!” … ?? That’s the sales pitch the owner gave me – but it worked regardless because there was nothing else to get him. As he rings up the fresh-out-of-the-oven oatmeal raisin smoosh he starts asking about our trips. Apparently, not too long ago, the town was plastered with frantic flyers from a worried cyclist’s mother “If you see this boy, he needs to call home!” … how embarrassing! Thanks for not being this neurotic, Mom! He also warned me that a deluge of rain was planned over the next week (but, there’s an Amtrak station down the road – I won’t tell if you cheat! Shhh) Like HELL I’m going to cheat now. Pfft I’m almost in San Fran – no thanks! We peace-out of the campgrounds separately – some are taking a rest day today and stick around. As I hop on my bike … fffffttttsssssss. Great, flat tire. Good thing I got a new pump! Two big climbs for the day and I run into the 72 year old from the campsite walking his bike up. Yikes I can’t imagine doing this alone at that age (but apparently there’s a 74 year old woman doing the same who is slightly behind us). In Westport I run into a guy biking San Fran to Eugene … who is trying to make it by Halloween … and is already taking a rest day because of the weather (buddy it’s only going to get worse in OR!) Pretty sure there is a bus in his future, because that’s over 100 miles a day (no rest days) on hilly terrain. I catch up to Matt by Westport and we ride to Mendocino together where Jurgen is already hanging out. We get some food to make a group dinner and hit up the campsite a few miles further – where we meet Gabe, yet another cyclist. ODOMETER: 5243 |
 San Fran San Fran San Fran! |
OH BOY OH BOY < 200 miles to GO!
nutella banana crepe. a camping delicacy. mmm
DAY 118:
Rain. Fricken rain. Thank you hydrogen dioxide. I woke up at 3:00 AM to find that my tent is no longer waterproof … or even water resistant … or anything useful. And here I would like to say that fleece is an amazing fabric. Despite sleeping in a lake I managed to stay relatively warm. Very impressed.
Today the three of us are taking a rest day, thankfully, because I have no dry … anything. I load up my bike and pedal back to Mendocino only to find that the Laundromat is back in Fort Bragg. Ok, no dry things. I spend the morning writing a letter to Mountain Hardwear’s Customer Service Dept about my broken poles, the incorrect one sent to me, and the lack of waterproofing on the tent. Shortly, I receive a message – we’re sorry to hear that, but we can’t deal with that complaint here. WHAT? What is customer service for then?? I shoot another one to the Warranty Dept.
I ate lunch by the bluff at the vistor’s center – unfortunately noticing a little late, that whatever I was eating had nuts in it (not supposed to eat them!) I scurried over to the bathroom to get water for taking Benedryl and when I returned … somebody had taken one of my cookies :( Quite a day this is shaping up to be.
I reconnected with Matt and Jurgen and took a walk through town, sightseeing, walking through their art gallery. It felt like a very culture filled afternoon. We decided we should get a cake for Dave’s Birthday when he arrived so we went into the grocery store, decided the premade ones were pretty lame so we should make one. Which was the start of a hilarious cultural and linguistic argument. Matt suggested we make pancakes for him, where upon I tried to explain that pancakes aren’t really birthday food – they’re for breakfast. He wandered off for a bit, came back and said ‘I will make him omelets!’ I burst into tears of laughter. You don’t stick a birthday candle in an omelet! He looked confused, as if I was out of my mind, of course omelets are normal birthday fare. So for … too long, we stood in the isle arguing our reasoning until I figured out … he was talking about crepes.
ODOMETER: 5248
Rain. Fricken rain. Thank you hydrogen dioxide. I woke up at 3:00 AM to find that my tent is no longer waterproof … or even water resistant … or anything useful. And here I would like to say that fleece is an amazing fabric. Despite sleeping in a lake I managed to stay relatively warm. Very impressed.
Today the three of us are taking a rest day, thankfully, because I have no dry … anything. I load up my bike and pedal back to Mendocino only to find that the Laundromat is back in Fort Bragg. Ok, no dry things. I spend the morning writing a letter to Mountain Hardwear’s Customer Service Dept about my broken poles, the incorrect one sent to me, and the lack of waterproofing on the tent. Shortly, I receive a message – we’re sorry to hear that, but we can’t deal with that complaint here. WHAT? What is customer service for then?? I shoot another one to the Warranty Dept.
I ate lunch by the bluff at the vistor’s center – unfortunately noticing a little late, that whatever I was eating had nuts in it (not supposed to eat them!) I scurried over to the bathroom to get water for taking Benedryl and when I returned … somebody had taken one of my cookies :( Quite a day this is shaping up to be.
I reconnected with Matt and Jurgen and took a walk through town, sightseeing, walking through their art gallery. It felt like a very culture filled afternoon. We decided we should get a cake for Dave’s Birthday when he arrived so we went into the grocery store, decided the premade ones were pretty lame so we should make one. Which was the start of a hilarious cultural and linguistic argument. Matt suggested we make pancakes for him, where upon I tried to explain that pancakes aren’t really birthday food – they’re for breakfast. He wandered off for a bit, came back and said ‘I will make him omelets!’ I burst into tears of laughter. You don’t stick a birthday candle in an omelet! He looked confused, as if I was out of my mind, of course omelets are normal birthday fare. So for … too long, we stood in the isle arguing our reasoning until I figured out … he was talking about crepes.
ODOMETER: 5248
Europeans and their fancy camping ... teaching me how to make crepes like a champ!
 Jurgen ... camping's own Martha Stewart.
DAY 119:
It continued raining cats and dogs … and camels and horses. Thanks to all of the cyclists, I was able to keep dry over night – we shifted around tents, and they gave me extra layers they didn’t need. It was awesome of them to look out for me, despite just having met me – glad I’m not alone! The ride was nasty. The wind was blowing like crazy and the rain, horizontal into the eyes. Matt and Jurgen sandwiched me in to “save me” as they said … from? The rain? Who knows. Such gentlemen ahaha. We stopped in Elk where we ran into Lucas and Rebecca for lunch. Running to the small grocery store we went to stock up for another group dinner. There was clearly a grocery store monopoly going on … a nine-dollar can of spaghetti sauce … no thanks. We continued towards Manchester. Our bikes like ships in a storm, the panniers became unruly sails that knocked us off balance. Sopping wet. So … enjoyable. Everyone’s gear is soaked at this point, all clothes, all tents ... so we got a small group cabin at the KOA and strung up our belongings between the bunks to dry. Lucky for us it was Karaoke night! ODOMETER: 5277 |
 Flipped and caught ... crepe ... master. |
DAY 120:
Still pouring, gear still drenched, we decided to wait out the storm at the KOA. We made use of the outdoor group kitchen and rocked out more crepes – ham and cheese ones, apple, nutella and banana ones … we got fancy. We occupied ourselves for the rest of the night playing dice … I won the first round (beginners luck, they say). I believed them as I was losing by a few thousand points in the second round … that is … until I rolled 1…1…1…1…1. BOOM, I win.
Still pouring, gear still drenched, we decided to wait out the storm at the KOA. We made use of the outdoor group kitchen and rocked out more crepes – ham and cheese ones, apple, nutella and banana ones … we got fancy. We occupied ourselves for the rest of the night playing dice … I won the first round (beginners luck, they say). I believed them as I was losing by a few thousand points in the second round … that is … until I rolled 1…1…1…1…1. BOOM, I win.
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DAY 121:
A 14% grade on the docket for today. FOURTEEN! According to the maps, that stretch of Route 1 stakes claim to the steepest incline of the California coast....and I thought California was going to be easy, boff! Aside from that difficult stretch, we spent most of the day cautiously teetering on the famous cliffs of California -- you know...the dropoffs in mob-movie scenes where a car gets chased off the edge and plummets hundreds of feet to the icy cold Pacific? Yea we rode on those. Funny, there aren't always guard-rails...meaning the only thing between you and the ocean is an all-expenses-paid trip from gravity. This was definitely not the safest part of the trek -- essentially no shoulder, deep twists and turns (making you invisible to cars at times)...but I have to say the view was worth the risk. |
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After a grueling afternoon we rode into the setting sun and arrived at Bodega Beach State Park after dark. We took a few laps around the site, unable to find the Hiker/Biker section until from the dark wooded area we hear "OVER HERE" An older man saunters down the hill. "I've lived here for over 30 years and I know you want the biker campground, it's over here!" ... lived here, at a state park in the middle of nowhere? for 30 years? oh boy. .. and thus began the drunken half-hour monologue ...
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Check out this Google Map of the cliffs mid-way through the day's ride. The "Map" setting doesn't reveal much BUT... - Click "Satellite" - Click anywhere on the screen, hold and drag the cursor UP so you can see the ocean and road in the same shot - Drag the cursor Left and Right to trek along the coast and get a feel for how close the road is to the steep drop-off Can't get a good enough feel for it? Check out Google's "street view" of: 19262 Coast Highway, Jenner, CA  |
 Fleas, the resident feral feline |
After he was done explaining his "life story" ... most of which I'm pretty sure wasn't true ... he sauntered back into the darkness. Finally alone, we crack out our food and start to cook dinner but right as we were about to eat a younger guy marches into the site, huffing and puffing. "DID YOU STEAL OUR COOLER?" but before we get a chance to answer we're questioned again ..."DID YOU STEAL OUR COOLER?? We saw you three circling the site a bunch of times, you're the only new people to this campground WHERE IS OUR FOOD??" We hated to point out the obvious ... he was referring to a cooler of a size that you couldn't exactly fit into your back pocket ... or even strap to a bike ... or conceal from his view. Not to mention that the cooler was JUST taken within the past 5 minutes and none of us had left the site in the last 30. Sorry buddy. I think he might have found the cooler had he asked the "resident" lurking somewhere in the darkness.
Finally left alone, we made a fire to relax after all of the hard climbs ... when out of the woods comes a feral kitty ... who takes residency on my lap. No amount of shoo-ing could get her to move -- and she wasn't fond of either of the guys. We named her "Fleas" ... for fairly obvious reason ... she even came back to us in the morning for a goodbye scratching session. ODOMETER: 5339 |
Look Ma, no hands!
DAY 122:
We lost track of the Swiss couple, Dave, and Gabe -- they stopped short the night before because the climbs and distance were a bit much. We set out after noon to give them a chance to catch back up. Perfect timing for Gabe -- right as we exited the campground, there he was -- about to stop for lunch. Today's ride took us along the Tomales River and up a few more steep hills -- the kind of hills that start to eat away at you if you drag them out -- so we came up with a solution -- LET'S RACE! A solid ride later and we met up with Lucas, Rebecca, Dave and Gabe at the Samuel P. Taylor State Park ... SO ... CLOSE ... TO ... SAN FRAN!
ODOMETER: 5381
We lost track of the Swiss couple, Dave, and Gabe -- they stopped short the night before because the climbs and distance were a bit much. We set out after noon to give them a chance to catch back up. Perfect timing for Gabe -- right as we exited the campground, there he was -- about to stop for lunch. Today's ride took us along the Tomales River and up a few more steep hills -- the kind of hills that start to eat away at you if you drag them out -- so we came up with a solution -- LET'S RACE! A solid ride later and we met up with Lucas, Rebecca, Dave and Gabe at the Samuel P. Taylor State Park ... SO ... CLOSE ... TO ... SAN FRAN!
ODOMETER: 5381
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DAY 123:
Not even the ruckus of the thieving raccoons could put a damper on my mood. It was my last night camping before completing my cross country trek -- however, it seems another form of wildlife was busy leaving its mark -- but I'll get to that in due time. Morning rolled around. Rebecca and Lucas emerged from their tent remarking that last night's downpour was incredible! Downpour? *Raised eyebrows from the crowd* Yea! huge plopping raindrops around 3 am. Hmm. We scuffed our feet -- dry, dusty dirt covered the campsite -- slightly contesting their story ... not to mention that they were the only 2 out of 7 to experience this "storm." We wrote it off as a combined nightmare? They turned back to their tent confused. |
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Seconds later the couple spun around chuckling. Look! They pointed towards the sky, towards the tree tops, towards the giant birds' nest that hovered 50 feet above their tent. They sure did experience a downpour ... a veritable shit-storm! A re-painted tent, for free! Lucky! Anyway the rest of the day went something like this ...
YYYEESSSSS FFIIINNNAALLLLLYYY!!! Attempting to describe how I felt crossing the Golden Gate Bridge is futile -- as is any emotion. I could type out every cliche about happiness, pride and satisfaction -- but you know those already so I'll share the one coherent thought that passed through my mind. "Holy fricken cow -- It was just shy of a year ago that I walked to the first stay of the bridge on the SF side and promised myself that at some point during my life I would walk my way to the other side ... I certainly didn't think it was going to be anytime soon ... and certainly didn't think I meant cross it from the other side of the country. But here I am. I left my home 123 days ago under my own power. 123 days of hill climbs, inexplicable illnesses, bears, torrentiaol downpours, 123 days of frustration, exhaustion and being left behind.
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But more importantly 123 days of not-giving-up, 123 days of spectacular views, meeting amazing people whom I wouldn't have met otherwise, learning what Americans do with their lives, experiencing the kindness of strangers and 123 days of HELL YEA I just did that!" I felt invincible ... to say the least.
haHA! Invincible, I am not! As I found out once I crossed to the other side of the bridge. 5300 miles didn't prepare me for what was up ahead. We continued into the city following Google directions to Gabe's family friend's house -- a straight shot to the Mission district. A straight shot over Fillmore St. A straight shot up an 18% grade road. 18% SERIOUSLY NOW?
HAHHAH....18% grade...HAHHA I'm still laughing
Yea, I got up the first chunk of the monstrosity but half-way up -- even slamming the entirety of my body weight on the pedals couldn't gain me an inch of ground. My bike wouldn't budge so I walked, nay, hiked, pushed, grunted and struggled my way up the hill with my 60 lb bicycle. Of course, I was rewarded at the top with a terrifying brake-screeching descent -- before yet another one of San Fran's famously hilly streets. To give you a sense of the incline, there are steps on the sidewalk -- STEPS.
Finally arriving at the Mission studio apartment, we found out that we could have circumvented the hills altogether. Thanks Google. Seemed like a satisfying 'full-circle' feeling to end the trip -- Google screwed us at the beginning of the ride and on the last and final day!
OK! Ready to get off this bike! Don't get me wrong -- I'd do it all over again if given the opportunity, but it's time to get out of these butt-bunching shorts and into some normal people clothes!
ODOMETER: 5414
DAY 124 - DAY 127:
San Francisco tourists. We spent 3 days in the city -- thank goodness for numbered streets or this would have been a very lost girl. We split up to explore and I took myself on a tour of the Mission District's artwork -- endless murals decorate storefronts, alley ways and restaurants. Here are a few from my epic walking tour -- walking!
Finally arriving at the Mission studio apartment, we found out that we could have circumvented the hills altogether. Thanks Google. Seemed like a satisfying 'full-circle' feeling to end the trip -- Google screwed us at the beginning of the ride and on the last and final day!
OK! Ready to get off this bike! Don't get me wrong -- I'd do it all over again if given the opportunity, but it's time to get out of these butt-bunching shorts and into some normal people clothes!
ODOMETER: 5414
DAY 124 - DAY 127:
San Francisco tourists. We spent 3 days in the city -- thank goodness for numbered streets or this would have been a very lost girl. We split up to explore and I took myself on a tour of the Mission District's artwork -- endless murals decorate storefronts, alley ways and restaurants. Here are a few from my epic walking tour -- walking!
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These weren't just any old days to be wandering around San Fran. The end of my trip coincided with the beginning of the world series -- so the city alive with 'GIGANTES' spirit. Obviously I had to make a special stop at this mural -- 2010 World Series Champions! |
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Matt, Jurgen and I took a super touristy visit of the antiquated prison, Alcatraz. I would definitely recommend it -- fabulous audio-walking tour!
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Checking out some of the hardened criminals of Alcatraz -- and even stepping into a few of the cramped cells. This island prison boasts no successful escapes but it sure has had its share of attempts. The picture to the left depicts one such endeavor -- stretching out the bars to slither to freedom. |
THE ROCK
One of the greatest tortures of Alcatraz was its location in the bay just across from the city. During its time of use, the sounds of San Francisco night life would echo across the waters -- nothing like hearing glasses clinking, music playing, and women laughing just out of reach when you're wasting away in a nice cozy ... cold, clammy jail cell!
Wrapping up the trip! Once we entered San Francisco I thought I had put cycling to rest for the time being ... but wouldn't you know it, I couldn't escape completely. Celebrating our last night together, we headed out to party up Halloween with the rest of the city. Heading back to the apartment around 3am we found a group of crazily-costumed girls huddling around a bicycle. 'i just got this bike fixed! How do I already have a flat?' My ears perked up -- a flat! 'How am I going to get this back?' ... from a couple yards away I snickered because I just so happened to have patch kit on me. Marched right over to them (fully in costume of course. My attempt to be a "boxing match" (a fighting box of matches) had been mistaken all night for some sort of superhero) so here I am 'superhero' appearing out of nowhere, with a patch kit and a pump in the nearby apartment to fix this girl's tire. And that's how I got invited to party with Robin Williams' granddaughter. San Francisco, you are a strange creature.
THANK YOU!
So many people had a hand in this trip:
To start from the very beginning, I would like to thank Competitive Edge Ski and Bike of Hadley, MA for taking us seriously (quite a few bike shops laughed us off -- two girls biking across the country?? yea right!) Thank you for fitting us with proper equipment and sharing your cycling knowledge -- I only had very minor issues with the bike in all of its 5,300 miles!
Thank you to UMass for your patience in establishing a scholarship fund and to Janet M. for keeping us up to date on our progress.
To the donors of the Chi Alpha Sigma scholarship fund -- you folks are terrific. Thank you for taking the time and money to support student-athletes with financial need -- for supporting someone outside of yourself -- a stranger, and helping them attain a better education.
To all of the libraries I hunkered down in to keep the blog up to date -- thanks for letting a smelly biker occupy your space.
Fire Departments! You guys are fantastic -- when there were no safe places to camp, thanks for letting us in (despite how crazy you thought we were sometimes) you folks are of another breed and your welcoming nature will not be forgotten!
To the bike hostels along the way and the random passers-by who took us in, gave us a place to sleep, some home-cooked food, a water fill-up or even just took a few minutes to chat with a lone traveler -- thanks a bunch for creating a home-away from home -- in instances of defeat and wanting to quit, you made all the difference.
Larry, Marty and Sherry, thank you folks for taking me in and teaching me the ways of white-water rafting I really appreciated being able to tag along on your adventure and learn some new tricks (and also for the fantastic food that week -- anything but tuna!)
Whew, you still reading this? Good, thank you too!
Dan and Chris ... Dan and Chris ... thanks for agreeing to meet up with a complete stranger to bike from CO to the coast -- I honestly could not have made it without you guys -- Momma Chris and Papa Dan, thanks for force feeding me gatorade and Advil when I was sick, for taking care of me ... and getting me the hell out of Butte ... butt indeed.
Rebecca, Lucas, Jurgen, Matt, Dave -- thanks for getting me through the home stretch to San Francisco, CA, I was sooo TIRED and you guys kept my spirits up, and thank you especially for helping me out in the deluge when my tent lost its waterproofing and became USELESS.
To folks back at home -- Skern & Chris, and Dave & Allison thanks for letting me stay with you guys, it was great to see you all! To Skern (again!), Eileen, Goodwin and Deej -- thanks for checking in on me while I was riding solo to make sure I was still alive, for taking the time to figure out where I was when I got lost and even getting me directions to get me back on track (for being my human GPS at times -- oops!), for comforting me whilst I freaked out about bears or creepy people etc, for lending an ear to my complaints and for humoring me as I droned on and on about how cool the ride was! And thank you especially for the awesome moral-boosting care package -- those sick days were rough!
That's about it for thank yous ...
JUST KIDDING!
Mom and Dad! Did you think I forgot about you? I could probably write a library full of books thanking you for everything you've done -- but I'll save a few trees and sum up my gratitude here. To start off, I really appreciate that you continued to hand out flyers about the trip and scholarship fund while I was biking and kept the trek and fund alive on the East Coast. Secondly, thank you for tracking my progress and keeping tabs on me as I slowly but surely inched my way across the country. During the trip, I was only able to get a sense for it on a day-to-day basis, but your tracking and cataloging allowed me to see the trek from a different perspective and brought a whole new dimension to it. And let's not forget that you learned to text to keep up with me. Sure, I probably should have taken a translation course before hand, or at least brought a Parent-texting - to - English dictionary with me but even a simply garbled "Gommd nii" was enough to feel like I wasn't completely alone in the middle of no where. I have to say that I'm impressed with how your texting skills improved (to even include smilies, bear icons :( and raccoon faces) but the major point being that I wouldn't have felt nearly as safe without the check-ins. When I was riding by myself without enough reception to call for help, it was so helpful to be able to text my start and end locations for the day so at least somebody would know where to find me if I rode off a California cliff! ha? Maybe not so funny but! that brings me to my final thank you for being supportive of the trek, despite the amount of worry it caused you (especially while I was alone!) -- and thanks for being cool enough parents to back me up on this project. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
To start from the very beginning, I would like to thank Competitive Edge Ski and Bike of Hadley, MA for taking us seriously (quite a few bike shops laughed us off -- two girls biking across the country?? yea right!) Thank you for fitting us with proper equipment and sharing your cycling knowledge -- I only had very minor issues with the bike in all of its 5,300 miles!
Thank you to UMass for your patience in establishing a scholarship fund and to Janet M. for keeping us up to date on our progress.
To the donors of the Chi Alpha Sigma scholarship fund -- you folks are terrific. Thank you for taking the time and money to support student-athletes with financial need -- for supporting someone outside of yourself -- a stranger, and helping them attain a better education.
To all of the libraries I hunkered down in to keep the blog up to date -- thanks for letting a smelly biker occupy your space.
Fire Departments! You guys are fantastic -- when there were no safe places to camp, thanks for letting us in (despite how crazy you thought we were sometimes) you folks are of another breed and your welcoming nature will not be forgotten!
To the bike hostels along the way and the random passers-by who took us in, gave us a place to sleep, some home-cooked food, a water fill-up or even just took a few minutes to chat with a lone traveler -- thanks a bunch for creating a home-away from home -- in instances of defeat and wanting to quit, you made all the difference.
Larry, Marty and Sherry, thank you folks for taking me in and teaching me the ways of white-water rafting I really appreciated being able to tag along on your adventure and learn some new tricks (and also for the fantastic food that week -- anything but tuna!)
Whew, you still reading this? Good, thank you too!
Dan and Chris ... Dan and Chris ... thanks for agreeing to meet up with a complete stranger to bike from CO to the coast -- I honestly could not have made it without you guys -- Momma Chris and Papa Dan, thanks for force feeding me gatorade and Advil when I was sick, for taking care of me ... and getting me the hell out of Butte ... butt indeed.
Rebecca, Lucas, Jurgen, Matt, Dave -- thanks for getting me through the home stretch to San Francisco, CA, I was sooo TIRED and you guys kept my spirits up, and thank you especially for helping me out in the deluge when my tent lost its waterproofing and became USELESS.
To folks back at home -- Skern & Chris, and Dave & Allison thanks for letting me stay with you guys, it was great to see you all! To Skern (again!), Eileen, Goodwin and Deej -- thanks for checking in on me while I was riding solo to make sure I was still alive, for taking the time to figure out where I was when I got lost and even getting me directions to get me back on track (for being my human GPS at times -- oops!), for comforting me whilst I freaked out about bears or creepy people etc, for lending an ear to my complaints and for humoring me as I droned on and on about how cool the ride was! And thank you especially for the awesome moral-boosting care package -- those sick days were rough!
That's about it for thank yous ...
JUST KIDDING!
Mom and Dad! Did you think I forgot about you? I could probably write a library full of books thanking you for everything you've done -- but I'll save a few trees and sum up my gratitude here. To start off, I really appreciate that you continued to hand out flyers about the trip and scholarship fund while I was biking and kept the trek and fund alive on the East Coast. Secondly, thank you for tracking my progress and keeping tabs on me as I slowly but surely inched my way across the country. During the trip, I was only able to get a sense for it on a day-to-day basis, but your tracking and cataloging allowed me to see the trek from a different perspective and brought a whole new dimension to it. And let's not forget that you learned to text to keep up with me. Sure, I probably should have taken a translation course before hand, or at least brought a Parent-texting - to - English dictionary with me but even a simply garbled "Gommd nii" was enough to feel like I wasn't completely alone in the middle of no where. I have to say that I'm impressed with how your texting skills improved (to even include smilies, bear icons :( and raccoon faces) but the major point being that I wouldn't have felt nearly as safe without the check-ins. When I was riding by myself without enough reception to call for help, it was so helpful to be able to text my start and end locations for the day so at least somebody would know where to find me if I rode off a California cliff! ha? Maybe not so funny but! that brings me to my final thank you for being supportive of the trek, despite the amount of worry it caused you (especially while I was alone!) -- and thanks for being cool enough parents to back me up on this project. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Thumper made the trip from CA back home to MA solo and in a box. Welcome home to snow!
