crossusabikebook

                                        Key West to Seattle
                                               -by bicycle
Table of Contents
Forward by Robert Langley
Chapter 1: Training
Chapter 2: Day One
Chapter 3: Halfway Point
Chapter 4: Trip Climax
Chapter 5: Final Push

 Thanks:
I owe my love for traveling to my Grandmother; Iris Calonis for the many road trips, different countries and adventures. I owe my interest in biking to my older brother; Bob Langley, who taught me how to ride a bike as a child, then again through the streets of Philadelphia in our college days, quick and high risk scenarios which sharpened our senses much like downhill mountain biking. Extreme sports friends who I grew up with in Pompton Lakes, New Jersey get the credit of pushing me to be better at unorthodox sports just for its inherent fun and risk. I owe my love for the outdoors to my Father Robert Calonis. The countless days of serenity while fishing in God’s country really instilled a sense of the great outdoors and I love him for that. To Aunt Linda and Uncle John for taking me to hike and camp in upstate New York, first the long uphill quad crushing climbs then the amazing awe inspiring views. Thanks to Aunt Deb and Jeannie for showing me how to travel through the forest by horseback and develop a respect for animals. Thank you to the cyclist’s and adventurers whose books I have read. Your adventures have inspired me as well as educated me. This trip is a celebration of freedom, health, and the great outdoors. It is both a challenge and an adventure. It is also a renewal of vows to such a beautiful country and a test of the human spirit to traverse its landscape.
Robert Langley:
“Riding a bike to me was much more than just pedaling or wheels spinning. Riding a bike was getting away from my house with freedom a few strokes of my pedals. Even though my mother was working nonstop around the clock, she was not the type of mom that would drive me places I wanted to go. We moved around town after town and always seemed further from my friends, but I was always able to jump on my bike and ride to them. I don’t even recall the first time riding a bike, but I can visualize almost every ride to go see my friends as well as the dreadful rides back home. Then there was my younger brother (Chris), younger by eight years. Naturally I passed this freedom of bike riding down to him. Of course my mom being the kind of mother she was, I was watching him as much as she was working. The funny thing is I have no memories of him riding a bike with training wheels. However, I do remember taking his tricycle down the little hill on the side of our house. My friends and I were kind of competing with the tricycle down this bumpy patch of grass and seeing who could hold on the longest. Then at the time, here is my three year old brother trying to hang with his older bro. Like everything else I encourage him to do, so probably call him names to egg him on. It didn’t stop there; our older sister got a Haro trickster with front and back pegs. Naturally, this was a perfect place for our little brother to be transported while babysitting. Hold on tight Chris...I remember taking him everywhere we went and him loving life! Except for the one time he was on the front pegs and Kim hit a bump, there went Chris flying and only to be ran over by Kim on her bike. A few years later we moved to Pequannock, New Jersey about two miles away from my friends in Lincoln Park, NJ. Chris had to man up and ride is sixteen inch bike with me every single time. Two miles to a five year old was tough and I remember the first time we probably stopped every fifty feet. After he saw where we were going for the first time those two miles were nothing for him. We were going to the "bunny hops" in Lincoln Park. The bunny hops were two hills about 6-8 feet high divided by a street in an apartment complex. All of my friends went there every day to jump our bikes. Once Chris saw how high we were jumping he was amazed. The first day we went, he had to roll down the hill to only ride up the other side. So not only did we ride two miles there and rode two miles back, he was riding up and down the bunny hops for hours. We did this everyday that summer....rain or shine! To me this only seemed normal, but looking back now, I am shaking my head. Which makes sense as to why Chris, my younger brother will attempt and knowing him will successfully ride a bike across country.”

Chapter 1 Training
1/11/15
The days are counting down and I am growing more excited. Equally as excited, I am plagued with the obsession to be prepared. How can one be prepared for something they have not yet done? Expecting the worse I guess. I wake up this morning at 3:30am; one of the side effects of staying hydrated like a sponge is waking up two or three times per night. This time I stay awake. I look over and see my latest velocipede. It is a Cannondale. I appreciate it not only for its craftsmanship, its color, but for its potential. To carry me and my gear over 4,000 miles on the trek of a lifetime! It carries the same responsibility a living animal would have on a similar journey across the continent before the age of the car. A series of smart decisions will bring me to those breathe-taking mountaintops; therefore I’m haunted by the preparations still needed to be made… better wheels, tires, a new chain, and a spare chain. (Now just a few master links and small piece of chain) Will my damaged front rack hold out or I should I get another? New shifters. New cables. Any of these things could be the cause of a break down. As I have learned from a preliminary trip to Key West, a break down, means sitting on the side of the road while people living their lives whizz past in their cars as you try to solve your problem. It makes me wish I was back on the bike, sweating, in pain, but going somewhere. I anticipate breakdowns in the future.
As the soft orange glow of the winter’s Florida sun rises I feel at ease, knowing I have only just imagined failure, not yet experienced it. After seeing images from hikers in some of the National Parks I intend to pass through, I would be disheartened to be delayed or prevented from reaching these amazing places. I cannot wait to meet people on the road. This time I will be prepared with a website where they can stay in touch and I can upload new images. In previous travels, I have just left with a ‘goodbye’. Little do these people know I have spoken of meeting them and remember their spirit-boosting smiles.
The last few days I have not trained due to tube, tire, and pump related failures. Seeing how quickly stamina fades, muscles shrink, and pounds gain remind me that I am human. When riding every day, one becomes more of a semblance of a machine. Counting miles, carbs, protein, fat, caffeine, cleaning the bike, recording miles, etc. I know it is that machine-like efficiency that will get me across the continent but I cannot deny that it feels good to be human for a few days. I realize that I have been on wheels more than on my feet as walking becomes somewhat difficult. I have not used my walking muscles very much. My gate feels unnatural. The rate at which things pass by me seems incredibly slow. But I can see more detail of the building across the harbor I have completely ignored while on the bike. There was also an entire 5 miles of trail at one my favorite off-road state parks that I missed because I was going too fast. What can I say? I like going fast. I have a yearning to be back on the bike. My body has become accustomed to riding and needs it. As I walk, my legs take steps that resemble a pedal stroke, my breathing aligning to a cadence of steps, my eyes perceiving my surroundings at a rate faster than necessary to foresee any dangers. I feel like a cyclist. I feel ready for a challenge.
1/24/2015
After taking some time off the bike and then adjusting back to riding, I found my old riding patterns coming back. While off the bike, I reread some of the suggested pedaling basics and realized I am sitting too far back on the bike. Once I put one foot at the 2’oclock position and aligned that foot with my knee, pain left that knee. (Screws have been coming loose out of my cleats causing my shoe to be stuck in the pedal)
Creating an imaginary separation between mind and body helps with climbing, fighting wind, and pushing my physical limits when it gets tough. I pretend my legs and core (abs and lower back) are their own entity, with their own mind. I do the same for my heart and lungs, their own entity, self-powered. Then my mind is free to wonder, but I strictly try to think of the most stupid comedians I can imagine such as the only radio show I’ve ever liked; the Billy Madison Show. Once I crack a smile, my whole body seems to smile, pain eases, breathing and circulation become relaxed and stress is nearly gone altogether. Focusing directly on the burning pain in the legs, the strain of the heart and lungs is debilitating to the mind. Since everything starts with the mind, adjustments need to be made mid-excursion. It takes discipline to allow your mind to dumb down. It is a gratifying feeling when a goofy smile turns into an esteem-filled smile. A warm feeling of accomplishment takes over the body as a short term goal has been reached such as climbing a hill; reaching a mile marker, getting through a heavy wind. Emotions shift, the will has become stronger, the soul invigorated, the engine, transmission, and computer have been tested and passed.
I have noticed that in cycling, there is not a peak in performance, or if there is one, it is hard to detect. In weight lifting, without performance enhancing supplements, there are obvious peaks, plateaus, and valleys. In cycling, the more you do it, the stronger you get or so it seems. Cycling taps into the will, cardio, and science of aerodynamics which can constantly be improved upon. If my quads are burned out I can focus my effort to a different group of muscles, adapting to overcome the obstacle. In a bench-press, if your chest, triceps, and abs cannot get your one-rep max off your chest and back to the bar rest you will resort to using your back, risking damage. In terms of exercising, cycling seems almost limitless, due to the variety of muscle groups which can be utilized to complete the workout. On my last fifteen miles of a long hard training ride when my legs and will felt spent, I flexed my abs and transitioned some of the burden to my core, also flexed my arms and gripped the handle bars tighter to create a little more leverage, again lessening some of the burden to the legs. It is surprising how far you can go just using your calf muscles. These little tricks help when I get tempted to stop riding.
1/27/15
I met with Michael Taylor today, an adventurer to the core. He is also a veteran and is still planning his next big bike trip. He is very inspiring, knowledgeable, and generous. He loaned me panniers, tent, sleeping bag, pump, tire in a bag, wind breaker, rain gear, helmet mirror, self-inflating bed mat, gloves, all-purpose soap, solar shower, bug spray, a clothes line, several bags, and other odd and ends. We went for a ride and he bought my lunch. He is offering to hook up my bike and make a pit stop to meet me half-way across the country on his road trip to Seattle, where he offered to make a drop off/pick up meeting. I think we are equally inspired by each other’s adventures. See you soon dude!
2/4/15
What a day! I broke my record for miles ridden on the Cannondale; seventy two with side wind and half packed panniers. I travelled from Punta Gorda over the narrow Fort Myers Bridge and then twelve miles in to south Fort Meyers. After a short break I did the whole trip over again going back. I shared a great inspirational conversation with a woman named Debbie. She had the cutest little dog leashed up by the bike racks. The little guy directed his attention away from me to his mom, a woman wearing cycling clothes who caught my attention on the line inside the grocery store. Coincidently, she is a host on Warmshowers.com, a site where people can accommodate touring cyclists. Her level of fitness was impressive to say the least. I look forward to that cup of coffee when I return. The days are counting down and I still need to visit Michael the gear donor in St. Petersburg F.L. and also go visit my family. My Dad will be my weather guide from home while I am out on the road. My brother, a triathlete, is advising me on technique and workouts. I will then trek down to Key West for the start of the trip.
The needed gear list is down to a feasible amount and I feel positive about the trip. I hope to accomplish each short term goal, day to day over the course of a few months. Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks are beckoning me. I love the mountains.
In training I like to reserve an hour for every ten miles I plan to ride. For a fifty mile ride I try to start five hours before the sun goes down. The idea is that if you do around fifteen mph you will have an extra twenty minutes every ten miles to take a break, stretch, change a flat, and talk to people. I like to be off the roads to avoid nocturnal predatory animals and drivers. It is harder to avoid pot holes at night, which is not as much of an issue with the Cannondale but a road bike, a pot hole hit at high speeds is a different story.
2/5/15
Today is the day after my seventy two mile day ride. We had a lot of rain here and today’s humidity is very high. Like 100% high. My heart rate is slow and my breathing is shallow causing lightheadedness. My left hip and left shoulder joints are killing me but the rest of my body feels very strong. I stopped at fifty miles due to saddle discomfort and back pain, if it were not for this I could have kept going without a break. I will do more lower back exercises and continue to make slight saddle adjustments until I find the perfect positioning.
2/20/15
Two days ago I did 102 miles with the bike and gear weighing 96 lbs. Yesterday I did 8 miles, today I hardly wanted to move but managed to workout and shave some weight off the pack. Whatever container I could possibly replace with a zip lock bag, I did so enthusiastically. I pulled the deodorant stick from its container, emptied pill bottles, coffee grinds, and even medical tape from its metal container. I did this to just about everything. Now that I figured out what I need, I figured out how to make it lighter and more often than not, only packed about half of it to come with me. There is no need to carry a month’s supply of anything if I can buy more down the road. At the end of the process, I filled an entire plastic shopping bag with about one to two pounds of unnecessary items; mostly excess packaging. I cut my bath towel in half. Took two small pieces for wash cloths then tossed the rest. I had a hard time choosing which casual clothes to bring as I would only bring one casual t-shirt and one pair of shorts. I chose my camouflaged OP cargo swim trunks because they are light, comfortable, and sort of look like regular shorts. I chose the bright orange polyester shirt my dad gave me. I removed the spring contraption from my front rack that I barely used anyway. Its purpose was to hold items down to the rack; it must have weighed five or six ounces. I threw away half of a lot of items such as toiletries. Upset I did not think to leave them with my dad to send to me later instead of wasting them. But every ounce I can shed will help me on my journey. Ninety six pounds is just too much. The travel section of major shopping stores is a great place to buy light weight samples of just about everything. Even then, you can remove the item from its package and put it into a baggie to save weight. My home-made bedding has dwindled down to half its original size. It will be the only exposed piece of gear as I realize I can fit my sleeping bag, blanket, and tent into the rear panniers with room to spare. I readjusted my helmet mirror to be further out of my peripheral vision. I took the insoles out of my skate shoes and put them in my bike shoes for added padding to the bottoms of my feet which were starting to cramp on the long ride the other day. I re-zip tied the gel seat cover to the saddle because it was shifting back. I bagged all my electronics, wires, and batteries. Luckily I have not been caught in the rain yet because it could have been completely destroyed. A lot of what I am doing is regurgitated from books I have read of backpackers and touring cyclist but some things you learn on your own as your pack is unique to you. In the book ‘Miles from Nowhere’ the two adventurers travel the world in the 70’s and had the same packing issues I have today. They also took along and left behind a lot of the same items. The bikes and gear have not changed a whole lot. The big difference now is portable electronics and their chargers and batteries. I have a cell phone, a gps, and a radio which also serves as a flashlight and a way to charge the gps and cell in case of an emergency. I am a little behind the times because many people would only carry a smart phone. In all actuality I could go without any of these items but I like to alternate between having music on and off and the security the radio’s weather alert system has, I like the idea of having a cell phone to communicate or call for help if needed; it also texts imminent weather threats. One time while camping on top of a mountain two hundred miles north of Roswell, New Mexico, I got a text stating there may be flash floods in my area, I did not have to worry because I was safely atop the mountain but I was happy to know I would be warned in this situation. You have to have the radio on in order to receive voice alerts. Another time I received a tornado warning text in Florida. There was no tornado that I was aware of and the next three days of riding were very tough as there were wind gusts up to 37 mph. I also have my dad who will text me weather status from the Weather Channel as I go.
In the process of loading the bags, I found an extra storage compartment in the flaps of each of the rear panniers. I made use of these flaps by putting items in them that I will not use often. I figured I would use the rucksack filled with clothes as a pillow. I threw away the foam mattress topper and figured I could just use the fleece blanket as extra bedding when the weather was warm enough. The entire sleeping bag could be used as bedding atop the foam and fleece if it was really warm. My bedding now weighs less, is less wind resistant, takes up less space, and is easier to pack. One fold, two garbage bags, and a bungee in less than 20 seconds. The sleeping bag and blanket stuff into a pannier in seconds as well. The tent and rain fly fold up and stuff into a pannier in equally quick time. The tent poles go in their long ruck sack and lay nicely on top of my rear rack. I paid attention to how I clipped the panniers to the racks; pushing the front ones further up and the back ones further back so my feet do not touch them as they push the cranks. The bottle cage under the frame holds a 1.5 liter bottle of water, the down tube bottle cage holds a liter bottle comfortably, and the seat tube holds a 16 ounce bottle with the cap just below the bike pump running the length of the top tube. I positioned the front panniers so their spare water bottle compartments face me as I ride. I use one for a 16 ounce bottle, dog mace, and a knife. I use the other for a rolled up wind breaker jacket to be pulled out quickly when the temperature drops.
Waiting to sell my van is bitter-sweet. I converted it somewhat and have been camping in it for the last few months so I would not have worry about paying rent somewhere and so I could focus on training every day. Camping in it also served as a good transition from the luxuries of living in a modern apartment. I have learned new ways to have plumbing, electricity and comforts on a scaled down level. There is a store within half a mile away with filtered water, food, free condiments and coffee creamer, free utensils, and a bathroom. Things I will have to do on the trip will be tougher than this situation. I anticipate situations where it may be more difficult to get food and water, to regulate my body temperature, and to find people to talk to. There has been very little rain and mostly beautiful cloudless days and star-filled nights. Rv travelers, conversion van drivers and generally free people have been camping out nearby. There is the harbor, palm trees, bright sun, and cool breezes. The risks have been low. Things have been comfortable and easy and to assume things will stay this easy would be wishful thinking. The longer I keep the van the longer I have more bedding and security, but the higher my anxiety gets about not getting my asking price or even being able to find a buyer. I have less than a week before I intend to make my way down to Key West, the pressure is building.
I am writing after a 24 mile ride with a tail wind, a workout of pushups and pull ups, 22 miles back against the wind, a bonk, aka wall, aka, my ass and legs are killing me. I accepted that wall psychologically that day. As I get stronger, my wall becomes closer to a black out, and I believe when I hit my peak I will be unconscious, truly never being aware of hitting it. After this “wall” I did a 2 mile run, got back on the bike, went over a causeway bridge to finish my training for the day. Two of those twenty two miles back against the wind were ridden across grass on the side of highway 41, going against traffic and big truck wind gusts to find my side mirror that flew off my handle bar going 23mph on the way down somewhere between my energy/electrolyte concoction kicking in and getting directly aligned with very strong Southwesterly Florida winter wind gusts. My average-speed hybrid bike began to carry itself. I got down into racing position and flipped to my highest gear. As I am riding on a freshly paved road finished only days ago, I watch the speedometer climb from 17 mph to 18, 19, 20, 21, 22!, 23! I carried a pace at 23 mph for a couple miles until my legs started to burn, then I focused on my posture, tucking my elbows and knees in, straightening my back, going heel to toe as I am pedaling. I look down and see 25mph. “Ok, I can hold this speed. My breathing is normal, controlled, in rhythm with my pedaling and probably my heart beat, my legs feel solid” Then I notice my mirror is gone. “Ah Crap” I hadn’t looked at it for miles. I see across the highway some yellow flags violently waving in my direction of travel. “Ok, well I have a rocking pace going; I will start looking from this point backward on my way back”. It turned out to be over two miles up the highway from there laying on the road with a crack straight down the middle. I soon realized my dependency on having a mirror. It’s like not having your watch or cell phone. You feel naked without it. A simple thing like a mirror can buy you a few precious seconds to get out of a vehicle’s way. It also saves neck strain and is a great thing to have. Luckily, I have a spare in new condition. (I ended up breaking that mirror later as well and have resorted to a helmet mirror.) Ear plugs are another great discovery. They lower the noise of passing vehicles which can be distracting and make a fun ride unpleasant. They also prevent wind from rushing passed and into the ear as well as allow you to hear yourself breathe and be at peace while riding. All of this to ride a bike across the continent. I will go on a bike tour, finally.
Many people do not train for this sort of thing. They just pack their bags and go for it, knowing that they will make adjustments along the way. Maybe they have enough money or friends around the country to live comfortably when the going gets rough. Maybe rigorous training is not necessary but I know it will give me a physical and psychological edge in the future. I don’t want to have to rely on anyone. I want to be prepared enough to take care of myself in any situation; an accident, getting lost, up against threats of people, animals, weather, hunger, and dehydration. It is the least I can do. I am not a tough guy, a hot shot, a machismo. I am an ordinary guy who has done some arm chair touring and felt bad when I heard about people in the coast guard and search parties risking their own lives to save the lives of those who were unprepared. It seemed selfish to me. I still have a lot of learning to do at 29 years old and I realize that and it could take a life time to become completely self-sufficient. A lot of us grow up relying on others in so many ways, that if we were alone we would just fall apart. I like to test my limits. I like solitude. I like nature. I like bikes. I like my country. I like having quality stories to tell people. Why not do this?
Chapter 2: Day One
3/9 50 miles to the ‘seven mile bridge’ Day One
Today is the first day of the trip, starting at the buoy at the southernmost point in the continental U.S. I was guided to the buoy by a young man who had done some touring of his own. He was patient and interested in my trip. He asked “Are you going to hang out in Key West for a while?” I replied “I want to get going, I have a lot of headwind to fight against” Before taking off he says “You’re going to smash it”. “Smashing it” was a term I used later on throughout the trip when the day ahead seemed like it was going to be too tough. I would just get up and “smash it”. The wait to get the picture was long and hot but it was a picturesque day nonetheless. I stopped with him at a bike shop and reran some spokes on the rear rim. I did not stick around long in Key West, I wanted to get moving. It was Spring Break and the streets were crowded.
3/10 68 miles to the main land
Today was my first experience with saddle sores. I believe they were actually caused by the seams in the padded bike shorts.
3/11 To Fort Lauderdale
I stopped to spend some time with my brother and his family. We ate chicken and sweet potatoes. Navigating is relatively easy and the weather is absolutely perfect along A1A and Us1.
3/12 Up A1A and US1
Wind was from a rear angle. Traffic was moderate. A cyclist rode up beside me in a biking suit and nice bike and shot the usual questions that a cyclist would ask. When he was satisfied he turned off and said good luck. Some of the causeway bridges along the coast are massive; standing much taller and steeper than the one I trained on in Punta Gorda. I managed to climb them in my second gear. The gear cable stretched so I do not have the easiest gear in the front, also known as the granny gear; used for climbing steep grades. (This steep climbing in second gear would eventually take its toll on my knees).
3/13 94 miles to Melbourne, Florida
Lisa, a former Ironman competitor, found me jogging with my bike and a flat front tire. I was trying to get to the nearest bike shop quickly because the wind was in my favor. She asked if I needed a tube. I said I could jog to the bike shop, she offered again so I took her up on it. She saved my day because I woke up that day with a flat, then I replaced that tube with a “brand new” one I bought from a bike rental shop. It turned out to have a rim pinch in it. That is two small punctures from the rim biting down on the inside of the tire caused by an under inflated tube. She saved me time, energy, and the money I would spend on a new tube. Lisa is a road angel and I let her know that. Thank you Lisa!
I rode a long and smooth A1A bike path most of the day and stopped in Stuart for some replacement spokes which had become on ongoing issue. At least one a day spoke would pop under the pressure of the weight of the bike. Eddy and Sabastian were really nice. They gave me a discount which was an awesome gesture and would not be the only one along the way. Someone in the area had been hit by a car recently and I was not surprised based on the road dropping a lane and there not being a shoulder. All the snow bird traffic funneled into a small space is bad news for a biker.
Later that day I thought back about how Lisa got emotional when I told her I was riding for a cause; the Wounded Warrior Project. My idea was to spread awareness and to try and raise donations to a page I had with them on their official site. After a hard push on a hot day, I looked back at the American flag stuck in my rear bag which I found in a guard rail in the keys and I thought about our veterans. I got a little choked up myself but converted it into aggression. I decided then that I would complete this trip like it is my personal mission. Emotions compartmentalized, I would continue on with a new found strength. (It would turn out that I would meet dozens of war veterans, many of them coming to my aid.)
I made it to Melbourne with an hour of day light to spare and camped by an intercostal beach. It was not very attractive but turned out to be entertaining. I saw a guy with bright orange shin guards on walking around. I thought he was playing soccer because I heard him blowing a whistle. It turned out he was leading two friends across the beach. One of the two full of mardi-gras beads, the other sort of plain looking but with a grin on his face. After a few more whistles and a walk up a huge dirt hill to where I stood, I see about seven more people coming around a corner. The first three got up the hill and I asked “Are they with you?” he replied: “We’re looking for the green beer at the end of the trail.” I laughed silently as they were all so determined to climb that dirt hill to follow the guy in the bright orange shin guards. What a day.
3/14 75 miles to a small town on US1 in Florida
I stayed in Melbourne that morning to meet my dad and his wife Linda. I started the trip way ahead of schedule and am going much faster than I thought I would. I will not be meeting them for their vacation in the Georgia mountains in April where I was supposed to resupply but since Melbourne is somewhat in the vicinity of where they live, they decided to drive out with the box of bike parts and Gu products. We had lunch and hung out at a park and discussed the trip. I was very happy to get back my Swiss Army knife which I forgot at their house the month before.
There was a twenty mile detour around a piece of land reserved for our military. It turned out there was a spectacular air show in progress with jets flying in formation at very high speeds and very low altitudes. A few times the jets seemed only 100 feet above my head as I kept pedaling. People were leaning against their parked cars and trucks which were pulled off to the side of the road in a farm type setting. Everyone was looking up in amazement. It was intense. The speed and sound of the jets ripping through the air was incredible.
Toward the end of the detour I saw a couple sitting in the grass with bikes that seemed to be set up for touring. I stopped and smiled until the saw me. Tom got up right away to come over and shook my hand. He was full of excitement about my trip. He asked all types of questions with loud enthusiasm. His wife, Barbara stood there and was a translator and referee of sorts. If a question or answer was not understood she would chime in to correct or confirm. They must have done this on their own tours with people who didn’t speak English. Tom invited me to stay at their house which I thought was so generous. It was still early in the day and I had riding I wanted to get in so I declined the offer but thanked them. Barbara was a little bit left out of the conversation due to Tom’s loud enthusiasm. She smiled the most when I spoke of a book written by two women who rode across the country. They were in their sixties.
The exit to get back on US1 North was blocked and I did not really know it was US1 at the time so I kept riding, figuring the detour would lead me back. After about 5 miles I realized I was at the Kennedy Space Center. The police officer told me beyond this point was not A1A and that I did not work here so I would have to turn around and go back the 5 miles I came in on. I got the typical chest puffing and belt adjusting so I turned the bike around grumbling to myself about road signs. He started to tell me about the history of the road work there as I was leaving, but frustrated that I would have to back track for the first time on the trip I just shot out a quick “Thank you sir” and rode away. I made my way back across the swamp land with a port o potty stench and got back on US1.
3/15 77 miles to St. Augustine, Florida
The bike was upside down and the rear wheel spinning as she approached me on the side of the highway. A woman from the Netherlands, she was travelling from Key West to Canada. She said she would go slow and make the trip last about 10 months. Her name began with a ‘J’. I think it was Josephine but it may have escaped my memory. She had the indestructible looking Dutch-made touring bike. I hope she makes it!
I did not go into Daytona Beach for the last day of bike week but I saw hundreds if not thousands of motorcyclists riding on US1 in the mainland Daytona area. The largest group of riders I counted was eleven. Everyone was slow and cautious in the Daytona area. I must have looked so out of place on a bicycle but I did not mind representing the motor-less community. Once we were out of the city area, a few stray bikers stretched their boundary to the white line as I do, making our margin of space very close. I backed away from the white line; I believe it to be the right decision. I was not trying to claim space on the highway during bike week.
The sand on the beach on A1A was turning an orange color the further north I travelled. It was especially noticeable up against the white sand dunes and protected patches of wild flowers. It was a good day for touring. The temperature was starting to get cooler as it is not quite Spring up north yet.
I met Maria and her disabled lap dog. She was an older but youthful Hispanic woman. When I told her what I was doing she took her phone out and got a snapshot of the three of us. Then her phone rang and I went to pet her dog while she took the phone call. I got a gentle bite on the hand. When she got off the phone, the language barrier caused us to part ways with a “good luck, I wish I could come with you”.
3/16 82 miles
I spent the morning in St. Augustine exploring and talking to people. This city is historic; it has an artistic, French vibe going on. On the way out of town I found a place to do my taxes. The lady dressed as the statue of liberty turned out to be from a town close to where I grew up in New Jersey. While I waited the hour in the waiting room I charged my electronics and watched TV. The show was not interesting at all and I realized how little screens have taken presence on this trip. It felt good to separate myself from a TV screen and get back to nature. After the tax place I set back out on the bike without stretching. This is the first time in months that I have ridden without stretching. When I did finally stretch after about twenty minutes of riding I felt some tension in my knees in the same place I have felt it before. In some situations; to escape a rogue car and climbing an extra steep bridge, my knees would develop strain behind the knee caps. One time I began sprinting on the bike the way I had in training when there were no bags or extra weight on the bike, but quickly realized how I have to gradually increase velocity I want to save my joints.
I took US1 Thinking it headed west around Jacksonville, a city I wanted to avoid because of rumors I have heard about it being a rough city. US1 took me right into the heart of the city. The road was detoured due to construction so I asked a cyclist for directions back to route. Chuck turned out to be one of the nicest guys. He is a time trials racer and he looks like a tough competitor. At age sixty he could have beaten me even if we switched bikes, mine with 40 pounds of extra gear and his a full carbon Specialized time trials bike. He pretty much looked like he should be in the Tour de France. He asked police officers, construction workers, and then went through the trouble to call his local bike shop to confirm those directions for me. After all that he took me to a Mexican restaurant and said it was on him. And that any self-proclaimed cyclist who comes across someone riding across the country should help that person in some way. I got an awesome meal of rice eggs and beans. When I finished he said “Ready for seconds?” I couldn’t believe it. I said “are you sure?” he assured me that it was his pleasure. So I got tacos trios and was stuffed beyond belief as my current diet consisted of an oatmeal bar every hour. The two of us laughed hard as he told stories of his Navy days and his unorthodox methods of impressing the ladies. When were finished with the stories he led me as far as he could to my route then turned off and went home. What a cool guy. (He would stay in touch through text during most of the trip).
Beside the two long and relaxing breaks today I was still able to get in eighty two miles and cross the border into Georgia. Upon crossing the border, the road surface changed, the forest became thicker, the air became cooler, and the sky a bit darker. The transition into unfamiliar territory left me a little uneasy. Little did I know Georgia would turn out to be one of the most beautiful and welcoming places on the tour, but that first night was not the friendliest.
3/17 82 miles to Wilsonson, Georgia
I headed west on highway 82 for fifty miles then north on a hilly and scenic road. The last thirty miles were some great touring as I took a calm back road lined with tall pines that would protect me from the heavy Easterly winds. The road instantly became a road to remember. It was calm, bright and airy. Full of features; the huge properties were well kept and everything seemed well groomed, even the sections of wilderness were up kept. It was such a good break from highway 82 which was heavily congested. Late in the evening I met Adam; a young man about my age who seemed overwhelmed by the burdens of running a business. He asked how many miles I have gone. I said “about 700”. He instantly pulled out his phone and held it to the two of us to get a picture. Then he had us move so his shop’s sign would be in the background. He asked me if I was famous. I said “not yet” and we both laughed. He asked “do you need bike stuff?” and then hurried into his shop. I replied “Ummm”. He said “Well, how about a light for your bike?” I said “My front light is good but my back light is so-so”. He pulled out a packaged light set and handed it to me and said “It’s yours”. He made me feel important and appreciated and set a great tone for the rest of my ride through Georgia. On the way out he asked “Do you feel free?” I did not really know how to respond at first. I said “It feels like an adventure and I have the freedom to choose my route”. In a way, I am so dedicated to doing this trip that it feels more like a mission than expression of freedom.
I sometimes ride with an open-mouthed smile. It is not by choice, it happens when you really start to ride hard and you have to breathe through your mouth and it just looks like you are smiling. Inside, I am suffering. I am pushing my limits to the max. But when someone passes in their car and sees me I think about how I must look, I feel grateful to do a trip like this, and then the painful smile becomes a real one. I feel the most free in the morning when I am up early and realize that I do not have to go work for someone else, but I do have to take orders from the road, the traffic, and the weather.
To get to where Adam’s shop was I did very little looking around on highway 82. For fifty miles, the twelve inches of space between the rumble strip and the grass demanded my full attention as eighteen wheelers passed at full speed and headwind hit full and steady. There were twenty mile stretches in between towns and there were few places to get out of the sun. If you were in a car you would have thought it was a perfect day outside. On a bike, it was slow, demanding, and tedious even with the scenery being as amazing as it was. From here, it is North and West; staying south long enough to let spring start in the North.
3/18 71 miles to Sylvester, Georgia
There was a good tail wind and another day of rolling country roads. I was greeted first thing in the morning by a police officer who got called about a guy changing his bike tube on the side of the road near a fire house. He shook my hand and said he appreciates what I am doing. I had a flat tire; it was a small piece of wire from running over a section of truck tire.
Tifton was a big junction with interstate 75. I picked up a usb compatible charge stick, stove fuel, and wet wipes. Finding water when and where I want it is less common in the country. Being back on highway 82 proved again to be rough riding but took me where I needed to go; North/west.
3/19 50 miles to Albany, Georgia
There was a 3:30am wake up to water drops on my face. I resealed the seams of the rain fly but I guess it was not enough. I started the stove to make coffee and to heat up the tent in an attempt to dry it out a bit. Water slowly crept into everything. I thought of the guys in the show ‘Dual Survivor’ when they ran out of daylight in Pennsylvania and had to make a leaf shelter. My shelter did not seem so bad then. I put important items in the dry bags to later reach inside and find that water had penetrated into the dry bag. It did not rain all that hard but it was steady enough to soak everything. I later realized that the plastic tarp under my tent was serving as a rain catch and it created a reservoir under my tent. I hope for a sunny day to dry everything out. At times like this I look forward to being back on the bike.
The town of Sylvester, five miles away had a laundromat right at the edge of town so I was able to wash and dry everything and get a break from the rain. The new usb charge stick got a good charge and I got a good hot coffee. Albany was a busy little city with a bike shop; the first I had seen in days. They gave me free chain lube and a spare tube. Things are starting to look up.
3/20 77 miles to Union Springs, Alabama
I crossed the border from G.A. into A.L. and today was a good day. There were fast descents and some tough climbs. The rear tube popped from a spoke protruding through the inside of the rim. It was on of the rewired spokes. I took it out, shortened the length, installed the new tube and resumed riding. It was my mistake and nothing to fret about.
Highway 82 in A.L. has been less congested. A group of three cars will pass every few minutes. There is the white line, four inches or road, a foot wide rumble strip, then about four to six inches of shoulder. When a car comes I shoot across the rumble strip and lock into the four to six inch space of road without going into the grass. Doing this at 16 to 20mph. I repeat to myself “lock it in” and ride for miles on a four inch piece of road. Just like in G.A., drivers give plenty of space. I could probably just ride on the white line while they pass but I am constantly reminded to be safe, so any opportunity I can take to be safe I will take. This included riding bumpy service roads that run along the highway when they present themselves. Safety first, fun second.
The contrast of going from wide open country into a busy town is intense. There really are not suburbs. There might be a few businesses on the outskirts of town to indicate civilization. Tifton, G.A. was a good example. On the gps, it just appeared to be some intersecting roads but once you arrive from the country it is a bustling metropolis. On the other hand most of the towns I go through are so small there may be a handful of stores and a few blocks of houses. That’s it. That’s the town. The few times I have stopped at one of these small town’s stores I have stood out so badly the whole place would get quiet. Then someone would say something and everyone would go back to their conversations of local gossip and activities. I usually leave my ear plugs in when I go into a “country” store to block out the reality of being so far from familiar territory.
I quit riding today with a couple hours of daylight. I needed a good workout, a shower, and time to cook my chicken, rice and beans. Sometimes I camp in the middle of nowhere and with a limited amount of clean water I can only take a “French” shower. A basic face, hair, and crotch wash. It is better to have water in case the bike breaks down and I have to walk ten miles to the nearest town. If that happened I would be dirtier than I was before the shower and with less water. Hydration is a must out in the middle of nowhere. Having to choose between water for a shower and water for hydration is a no brainer.
Today however, a small town was within my last five miles of riding for the day and I was able to fill up the solar shower which holds two gallons of water and is more than enough to get clean.
My workout started with using the solar shower like a dumbbell but I ended up tying the bad bike tube around a tree and doing some resistance workouts. When the weather is good, everything gets dropped and getting miles in is the focus. I had not worked out, shaved, or took a good shower in a couple days. It is good to feel human again. My cell phone is out of range.
 I usually get a daily weather report from my dad in the form of a text message; I prepared my tarp over the tent rather than under the tent in case it rains again. My bedding foam is still wet from the other day even after putting it in the drier for two cycles. I won’t have a bed tonight because I hung them out to dry. It is one hundred and ninety miles across the state of Alabama. I did 3thirty seven today. I am hoping I can get through the rest of it in two days. Things have changed from the easy riding and navigation in Florida.
3/21 75 miles of overcast, muggy and tedious riding
Rough climbing. That’s all I can say for today.
3/22 65 miles to Tuscaloosa county, Alabama
The ten or twenty miles of causeway bridge climbs I did as training leading up to this trip are paying off here in Alabama hill country. I set a new record for my fastest speed with a loaded (panniers and gear) bike at 37.4 mph. That gives you an idea of the size of the hills I am climbing today. It drizzled on and off all day with a short patch of sun and a short patch of downpour. The ongoing trends here in A.L. are churches, old abandoned homes, and people staring as I ride past and go into stores. I am an alien in this territory. The over cast rainy weather has been pretty constant as well. It’s starting to get to me but I will remain strong and get through it.
The tent stayed dry last night with the tarp being over top. I threw out the foam bedding so I am without any type of bedding. This is really roughing it. Tonight for a bed, I threw a bunch of pine needles in a pile then set up the tent on top of it. Then I laid down the space blanket across the floor of the tent. I road in the rain so everything is wet. I hung my clothes up on the inside of the tent and have the stove going. Hopefully tomorrow is a sunny day.
The most socializing I do is with cashiers in shops as there are not many people outside except in their cars so I am looking forward to the bike friendly states in the Northwest.
3/23 60 miles to (an area within ten miles of) the Mississippi border
The rain let up and the sun came out today! What a relief. I bought an arm band radio. Providing a bit of psychological relief from miles of only hearing truck tires pass and hearing myself breathing. It was a tricky ride today. It required a lot of concentration. The shoulder disappeared for about the twenty miles leading into Tuscaloosa, Alabama. I tried walking the bike in the grass but at 2.9 mph I was going nowhere fast. So then I tried riding in the grass; it was a bit faster but not very smooth of a ride. So I rode the white line. Semi-trucks and speeding cars were in my little helmet mirror. They would move over a lane a quarter mile back when they saw my blinking tail light that I attached to the back of the helmet. They could not miss the bright green construction vest either. There were a few times when the fast and slow lane were filled with traffic so I would go off the road into the mud, grass, and road kill. I thought I was going down hard twice when I plowed through a six inch deep puddle of mud. Riding in the sand in Florida taught me to lean back and lower my center of gravity. I did this through the mud going over 20 mph and made it through. I had to fight my way out of the mud back through the rumble strip then back to the white line.
There were overly aggressive truck drivers and overly cautious drivers that would slow down and ride behind a quarter of a mile. There were the riders go entirely into the oncoming lane. I feared I would cause an accident a few times. All the while doing this I was climbing steep grades. Descending big hills, saturated, and cold; I learned that I need to externalize my grief with “Mr. Miyagi” grunts every once in a while or I would implode. The sun came out about ten miles before my day ended and I had a full shoulder to ride on, music in my ears, the bike functioning, was when I warmed up and smiled. Shortly after that I found an amazing place to camp. Flt, dry, no thorns, and high up on a hill. I hung out my wet clothes to dry and took a good shower while waiting for water to boil for rice. I started blowing up the pool air mattress I just bought. For only a few bucks I figured I would give it a shot even if it does not last. So far it is like heaven on my back. I am suffering from something that feels like a pinched nerve on my lower right side of my back. I slept well but in pain last night. Hopefully I will wake up fresh tomorrow.
With the sun up, I rode into Columbus, Mississippi and found a bike shop. I need to replace about four spokes which are giving the rear rim a horrible wobble. Oh, yeah…John. A man named John asked me where I was heading when we were both outside a store this morning. He said he would be driving to Alaska one day and told me to be careful on the same highway I just mentioned. I was charging my gps when he walked out and handed me $5 and told me to buy myself a sandwich and that I am a better man than he for riding to Seattle. I do not know what he meant by that but I thankfully accepting and we resumed a conversation about his drive.
There have been several loose dogs to run and chase me. I immediately let out a sharp and loud “stay!” They usually back away but today a tan lab chased alongside me the full length of its property. I am so afraid a dog will chase after me and get hit by a car.
3/24 100 miles to Winona, Mississippi
I realized I have lost about ten pounds. Today granted me a good tail wind as well as good weather but there were some challenging hills. I passed the Mississippi State University Campus in Starkville and bought a new rear wheel and a whole box of Gu at Boardtown Bikes. All the rumble strips took a toll on my seat post so I had that rebuilt. The guys there were very helpful and it was a surprise to come out of the farmland and into a city with a bike shop.
Three Mississippi State University kids were intrigued about the trip and asked some of the best questions I have been asked so far. Their enthusiasm made me feel important. I spoke to them as if one day they too would do something like this. I gave them advise and tips; that is how interested they were.
3/25 100 miles to the Mississippi River (border with Arkansas)
The terrain went from relatively flat to terrain similar to the hills in Alabama. The weather was perfect. The ride down into the delta was gradual and enjoyable. The delta itself was challenging. There was only a four inch piece of road to ride on. The shoulder consisted of loose and wet gravel. The stretches between gas stations or a place to rest in the shade were over ten miles. However, Mississippi from start to finish was a great ride and one of my favorite states so far. There are rolling green hills, nice people and good weather. I hit mile one hundred on top of the bridge going over the Mississippi River. The sun was setting and the air temperature was perfect, making the bridge crossing a pleasurable ride. I was tired but got a second wind as I imagined rolling on top of the current in a canoe. Is it doable? After a few pedal strokes and a quick examination of the speed of the river I decided it is a little intimidating but definitely doable. I got off the bridge and camped in Arkansas on the west side of the massive river in an open, empty field next to four flowers that were randomly growing in a featureless hayfield.
3/26 44 miles to Hamburg, Arkansas
This is the first morning with warm and dry air. It was easy to wake up. Packing took only twenty minutes. I am assuming it is all flat hills from here to the north east. A heavy wind came from the west as my heading is northwest. I heard of bad weather so today was supposed to be a rest day but with nothing else to do but ride, I got on the bike and rode slow against the wind scanning the skies for tornadoes. I pushed as far as I could but the wind must have hit 30 mph so an empty church seemed like a good place to seek refuge. The temperature dropped from the high sixties to low fifties instantly and with the wind chill was cold enough to see my breath when I exhaled. There is a trailer next to this empty church and a cemetery on the other side with a large American flag snapping like a whip in the wind. I went up to the trailer assuming there might be a pastor living in it. No one was home. I wanted to ask permission to set up the tent in the patch of pine trees nearby but with no one there so I took the liberty to call that place home for the night. I set up as quickly as possible and climbed in. I fumbled with the stove as the weatherman on the radio stated a tornado killed a man and injured some people recently in Arkansas and Oklahoma. Hopefully I am far enough south right now to avoid any of that activity, but my route is going straight through this area. Realizing I am out of dinner, I remembered a general store about two miles back down the road. With the bike stripped of its panniers, I rode with this strong tail wind and pedaled at lightening speed. I got there very quickly and bought some chili and hot fries. The ride back against the wind was torture.
3/27 65 miles to Whitehall, Arkansas
Highway 65 took me north toward Pine Bluff and my junction for highway 270. Tornadoes have touched down by the border with Oklahoma. I am wondering if I should change the route or even take a train through this area to avoid any danger. After some deliberation, I decided to stay the course. White Hall was a welcoming town which reminded me of the town I grew up in in New Jersey. I was able to do laundry and the owner of the hardware store next door let me camp on the patch of grass behind the shop. Without any traffic, animals, and mischief to worry about I slept like a baby for the first time in a while.
3/28 55 miles to Malvern, Arkansas
I spent the first half of the day at the local library. The temperature was in the forties at 12:00 noon when I got my bike to start riding. Arkansas turned out to have a lot of hills and some I would consider mountains for having come from Florida. Highway 270 north would bring me to Hot Springs National Park. I camped by some bamboo trees and met Mike and Kristen who invited me for some snacks and let me refill my water bottles. They talked about their plans to get married and where they considered to go honeymooning. They showed enthusiasm toward my adventure which gave me a boost. They also said there would be a lot of cyclist in the parks ahead. I hit 36 mph down one of the nearby hills today which was fun.
3/29 65 miles to Ouachita National Park
There were some tough hills to climb today. It takes two or three very hard climbs before I start grunting like an ape. I get an adrenaline boost going to help me get through it. These hills are the most challenging so far. Later today it got up to eighty degrees. I rode especially hard because I was upset at myself for getting a 10:00am start this morning. Usually I am up with the sun trying to get out of the camp spot before someone comes poking around and asking questions. The cold mornings make it hard to get up early. The traffic has been heavy and a bit aggressive here on a Sunday in the national park. I read signs to watch out for bear and took the proper steps to keep myself safe; cooking and eating away from camp, then hanging my food and all scented items up in a tree at least three hundred feet away. This was the first time so far when I had to be concerned about bear.
I passed one thousand five hundred miles today on the odometer. It has been exactly three weeks since the start and I am averaging roughly seventy five miles per day. I am happy with over five hundred miles per week. That is twice what I did in training without a loaded bike. I have lost a lot of body fat and I feel less muscular in my upper body. I have stopped working out my upper body because I want all fuel to go to my legs. My mood today was horrible and I attribute it to eating unhealthy the last few days. I had fast food for the first time in almost six months then the next day ate a disgusting greasy breakfast. Passing all these restaurants in town is slow torture for someone like me and I had to eat a disgusting breakfast at least once. Today is also the first day I have not had a Gu to get me going.
I was chased by about six large dogs today and that really got my nerves going. By the end of the day I was cursing at the dogs and brought the dog mace and Mac Daddy out and put them under the bungee cord to my front rack. Mac Daddy is my big double bladed dive knife. One side is serrated, the other is straight. It is extremely dull but it looks frightening. I mainly use it to open the Sterno can.
My mood turned when I exceeded my weekly goal. Tomorrow I should reach the border to Oklahoma. I wonder if I will be as surprised about the landscape there as I am here in northwest Arkansas. (Coming from the flat farmlands of the delta I expected it to stay flat all the way up to Colorado). I like the hill country over flat land. Wind is less of a factor, my average mph goes up, and it is fun to fly down the other side of the hills.
3/30 70 miles to Heavener, Oklahoma
I stopped in Mena, Arkansas to get water at an empty bar except for the tender named Al. The bar sat right on the border and due to the liquor laws the register had to be moved to legal side of the bar. A few miles down the road a nurse driving home from work stopped and gave me a bottle of water. There were some very big hills here in Oklahoma as well. The traffic was not bad today in the Ouachita National Park. Today’s temperature hit the mid-nineties. I was chased by several large stray dogs again today but managed to escape.
3/31 75 miles to Lake Tenkiller
Oklahoma is becoming my favorite state so far. It has the view of mountains in the distance which is what I love about driving through Arizona and New Mexico. The mountains are filled with trees. Vibrant with life; birds are chirping, the breeze is blowing, and the air is consistently hot and dry. The rivers are clear with a hint a lime green and full of small mouth bass. There is not a single square foot in any direction which is not filled with an amazing display of nature. This has been so unexpected. I had no idea Oklahoma was this beautiful.
I am lounging against the dry bag filled with a sleeping bag and two coats. My back is enjoying some relaxation. There is a big hearty meal cooking. Lately I can eat two pounds of food in one sitting, and then a couple hours later eat more. The view out the front door of the tent is overlooking a view of bright green mountains. To my right the sun is setting over a big mountain. In between that mountain and the hill lies a gently rolling creek. This is really something else. Oklahoma? Oklahoma! Passing through Sallisaw and Gore was easy riding as the highway was a series of new slabs of yellow concrete and it had a large lane-sized shoulder. After Gore, I rode a country road labeled “10” and “64” on the map.
I met Mikah, a friendly young man who helped with directions a few miles down the road I stopped at Bubba’s ice-cream shop and devoured a massive chocolate ice cream for only $1.60. This is the first time I have had ice cream in eons. I popped the front tube but it was a quick fix and I got rid of an annoying tire wobble in the process. Beside that the possibility of a thunder storm tonight, today and yesterday were class-A bike touring. I just need to keep an ear open for tornado threats as I make my way to Denver. I will relax easily tonight here in God’s country.
I thought I might discuss some of the more technical things involved in the trip. For starters, cooking. I cook in the tent as it dries out any moisture on the tent from the night. I put my hiking boots side by side and upside down then I put the foldable stove on top. I kept a Sterno fuel can but no longer use the Sterno as fuel. Instead I fill it about half way with isopropyl alcohol; between 70% to 91% works best. The higher the percentage the hotter it burns but the backlash is having to deal with more fumes and ash. Another good thing is that it is inexpensive. I cook my water with the water from the vegetables can as sort of a broth and to conserve the drinking water. I add a dash of salt to the water before boiling to speed up the boil time and to conserve the fuel. I place the side dishes in the cans up on the grill of the stove right next to the boiling water to get them warmed up. Sometimes I will hang clothes above the stove by the loops of the tent to dry them out. Other times I will place the hot cup of cooked rice on wet socks while eating. The flat bottom of the cup serves as an iron and the heat dries socks almost instantly. When dinner is done I will clean the cup but leave the stove set up for coffee in the morning. The stove has also brought the inside temperature of the tent up considerably when it was cold. As of now the tent set up is as follows: ¾ mil painter’s plastic folded for two layers laid on the ground. The tent is then set up on top. A thin 9’x11’ sheet of painter’s plastic is laid over the tent. The rain fly is placed over top the thin painter’s plastic and is secured to the corners of the tent. I have stayed dry since I have incorporated the painter’s plastic. One thing to note is that if the ground tarp protrudes out from the bottom of the tent is will actually collect water runoff so it is important to tuck it under the tent. Without the painter’s plastic water will drip down the walls of the tent and condense leaving a layer of water on the inside of the tent. Anything touching a wall; such as the bottom of the sleeping bag near your feet, will slowly absorb water. You can also use an emergency blanket as a barrier to stay dry and warm on the fly. If I know it is going to be cold I will wear gloves, a beanie, and wool socks. Tucking the shirt in is an easy way to create an air pocket and stay warm. Once the tent is set up I empty the bike of all the gear that will come into the tent with me. There are three one-gallon zip lock bags, two ruck sacks, and a dry bag. Usually by morning everything is strewn all over the place but after a while it is easy to process the gear and get it to the front door of the tent to be reloaded onto the bike. I place the lighter bags in the pannier on the drive train side of the bike and heavier on the opposite side. This is because the drive train spokes tend to pop first and are harder to replace. I will then lift and shake the tent to remove any leftover items or debris from the night before. Then the tent and tarps get rolled up and placed into a dry bag.
Water is a nuisance and can weigh the bike down if it saturates in cloth. As I am writing this I see massive clouds that have been forming to the east. They are in sight right through the front door screen. An intense lightning bolt fired from the inside of the cloud. Hopefully those clouds stay where they are which is about five miles away. Another bolt went off: about five bolts connected spanning at least a mile across the sky.
4/1 105 miles to Tulsa, Oklahoma
Tulsa ended up being a surprise of a big bustling city with a ten mile bike path packed with cyclists. I must have handed out about twenty five cards with my information on it. I had some great conversations. Oklahoma is a busy and active state. I have only seen one person sitting down since I entered the state. Farms are at work here. Between the bustling people and barely stopping I have gotten some serious miles in without being delayed. I guess that is why the bike path was such a treat. In fact I stayed too long and ended up riding through the night trying to get out of the city. I just kept going north until I found some woods where there were two large buck were grazing. They saw me and ran off. I camped nearby this area and heard five gun shots go off later in the night. I was kept awake tonight by lightning and wind gusts.
4/2 94 miles to Ponca City, Oklahoma
Luckily there was a Dollar General store nearby to supply my with energy drinks to make up for the lack of sleep. This store has been there every time I needed water and trail mix. I learned to pass the expensive “country store” shops and continue until I found a Dollar General. Nine times out of ten there was one there. I treaded lightly with my head down though the Indian reservations to find mostly white people on ranches along the highway. There was some tough climbing and steady side wind and temperatures reaching the mid-90s. Then there was a hill. More like a mountain. Once at the top I could see for at least ten miles in every direction. There were no trees or green grass. It was a burned area and it was like no man’s land. And I had to ride through it. I started no man’s land with a gallon of water and ended with half a liter. I am happy not to have sprung a flat on this strip of prairie desert. After about another ten miles of highway 11 west the greenery resumed and brought me into Ponca City where a bridge took over a wide and mostly dried out river basin where young kids were drag racing their quads on the sand. The area under the bridge which caught my attention as a potential camping area had more kids mudding with pickup trucks. I shook my head when I heard something pop in the axle of one of the trucks. He kept pushing the gas, shooting mud everywhere. Tonight was another night of lightning, storm warnings and the possibility of a tornado. I am camped out on the soft gravel of a dried out river bed next to a large tunnel I can jump into if a tornado makes visit. I am well above my desired weekly average for miles and am hoping for something interesting to stop me for a rest day. If not, I will press on.
The half-way point of the trip is coming up soon to represent the two thousand mile mark. Physically, it feels like two thousand miles but I am still very excited to continue because the best is still yet to come. I will end up working harder but the payoff will be greater in the northwest. I say this because my idea of beautiful scenery is from a mountain top. Oklahoma does have my attention with its red tailed hawks flying overhead, the freshest air I have ever breathed, and the most acreage of green grass I have ever seen. There are hundreds of green rolling hills.
My knees are feeling it today. My right hand cannot drip correctly. There must be some type of nerve being pinched. I am playing the seat adjustment game to make my lower back happy. There are sharp spasms in my legs every ten minutes or so. The worse of it has temporarily ceased. There is a pain in my upper left shoulder blade. Sometimes it feels like a pinch other time a hot dagger being twisted inside my back. I did not experience any of these pains in my training then again new parts with different lengths and heights were added right before the trip. This is not advisable. The bike went from riser bars to flat bars, longer crank arms, removal of front panniers, and then adding more weight to the bike. Getting used to new settings on intense climbs is taxing.
I learned a lesson and it is to constantly improve your position and situation. Do not live with something that is not functioning properly if there is a way to fix it. From a squeaking sound, to a wheel wobble, to body pain; things can be adjusted to make the ride the more comfortable. The ride should be enjoyable, it is worth the time to stop and rethink or adjust.Chapter 3: Halfway Point
4/3 60 miles to Burlington, Oklahoma
I woke up to a sunny morning with an owl in camp then rode almost forty miles without seeing a store. I ran out of food and water but kept pressing on. Then a town emerged and I reloaded. Full of carbs, sugar, and taurine I continued westward on highway 64 to become part of another change in the landscape; Platues! There was dry, yellow hay in the foreground, hills and green grass. There were orange, wind eroded mountain sides. I had to stop on the side of the road and write this because it is such a significant and beautiful change in scenery. Just in front of me, a dirt devil crosses the road. Tumble weeds, hawks, dead coyotes and old grey barns with missing roof tops scattered the land. A strong southern wind blew but the air was cool and the sun bright.
Mile two thousand came up on the odometer near the town of Freedom This is the half way approximation as the trip roughly four thousand miles. I stopped early today to cook up my Mexican style dinner which I have been craving so ravenously the past few days. It consisted of rice, of course, chili with beans, diced tomatoes with green chili peppers, and hard taco shells. I set up camp in a crevasse surrounding me with clay walls. There is soft mud underneath with straw grass already pressed down. I even have a couple pine trees releasing a soothing fragrance as I stretch out and wait for the food to cook. Even though for the last twenty miles my right Achilles tendon felt like it was going to tear in half. I feel like today was one of the best touring days so far on the trip. Setting up camp with a couple hours of daylight is a nice change. Two thousand miles in twenty seven days with two loaded panniers, a loaded dry bag in the back, a half loaded dry bag up front, a handle bar bag, and three 1.5 liter bottles of water. I am satisfied with this. My rule of thumb is becoming; if the sun is out: ride hard.
I have ten taco shells and will eat like a grizzly tonight. I can start a heading into Kansas anytime now but I am really loving Oklahoma. Its surprises in scenery are stimulating. I might stay west on highway 64 across the top of Texas for another two or three days then go into Liberal, Kansas. I can see this state is not a tourist state, nor do its people rely in tourism like Florida does. The people here farm, drill for oil, raise cows, and are self-reliant. This big state has been lonely but it has made me tougher. The will needs to be stronger than any single obstacle for it is what will carry you through to the next breath of fresh air, the next dry day, to the shade, up the hill, to the water source, and out of harm’s way. I have been thinking and coming to conclusions about the past. I am happy to have made new friends. I hope what I am writing here inspires younger people to go after their goals one day at a time. Thoroughly and with focus.
It is time for change. I will change something for the second half of the trip. New tires, a haircut, some new bike shorts, and maybe some new gear. I want the second half to be its own adventure in a way. Psychologically, I need to feel fresh like I am at mile zero again and not at mile two thousand. Right now I feel a bit more like a worn down dirty bum than an adventurer tackling a feat. The other day outside of a store I was pouring water from a gallon jug into my 1.5 liter bottles that fit in the bottle cages and I spilled water all over the sidewalk. My ability to grip has been compromised by the riding. A younger guy saw me and must have viewed me as helpless and offered to help me pour the water. A nice kid but it was a wakeup call that I am deteriorating a little and need to keep an eye on my condition. I have other adventures planned after this one and do not want to ruin it for myself. Since then I quadruple wrapped the handle bars to eliminate hand cramping and nerve issues.
4/5 86 miles to Forgan, Oklahoma
I came to a north/south/east/west cross roads at my slow rate of 8 mph. The south wind is battling against my left side. There was a hill to my left; a good place to sit out the wind and study the map. Half way in my squat to sit down my legs gave out and my ass hit the ground fast. As fast as it went down it came back up when I realized it had about two dozen sand spurs the size of jumping jacks stuck to it. Unlike the tiny Florida spurs I am used getting stuck to pant legs, these leave the equivalent of a porcupine quill in your hand when you remove the spur.
I ran into Wiley, a spritely older man at a store who asked “Is the wind with you or against you?” I replied “It is sort of hitting me from the side”. He then broke into conversation about his marathons and long Oklahoma bike rides. I listened intently with a smile on my face. I had barely spoken to anyone in days. I let him tell all about his riding then told him what I am doing. He asked “have you gotten to the point where it is getting tough?” I replied “physically I know can do it, it’s the loneliness factor that is getting to me. The long stretches of farm land. I have not talked to another bike ride since Tulsa”. We shook hands and parted ways. I went back to shopping. He said “Chris” and came around the corner. “I know it’s not much but maybe this will help with your expenses” I thanked him and looked down at a twenty dollar bill. Wow, what a nice guy. That is a new rear tire right there and will need one for the Rockies and other mountains. From reading books about other people’s adventures I learned it is good to never turn down generosity and to later pay it forward when possible. The sun is out, the wind blowing hard and steady, I am pressing on westward.
The rest of the day was hot and windy but the wind and road direction worked together for the last twenty miles so I had a decent tail wind which got me close to 20 mph. If the wind is still southerly, tomorrow will be a high mileage day since I will go north into Kansas on highway 83 all the way to highway 50, another highway which will take me east to the Rockies in Colorado. I got a shower in and found a private and protective, peace of mind place to camp. Severe weather is expected where I camped last night, not where I am now but it is better to be safe than sorry. Oklahoma has taken on more of a desert landscape and its weather not far off either. Today was about the fifth and sixth time I said aloud “wow, this is beautiful”. If I still do not have service on my phone tomorrow I will have to ask someone if I can borrow their cell phone to text my dad that I am alive. It has been about four days since a text went through and he is probably seeing all types of bad weather on the TV for Oklahoma.
4/6 105 miles to Garden City, Kansas
This morning was a rude awakening to the howls of coyotes and a mouse scurrying past my tent along my plastic tarp. I camped out in tunnel under the highway closed in by tumble weeds in either direction. Real hobo style but tornado protection insurance took precedent. It was 4:00 am and I was frustrated so I just started my day early. I did twenty five miles to the border into Kansas. Liberal had a library so it was a good opportunity to put the donations up online and make my blog updates. When I got out of the library I was exhausted from lack of sleep but just got on the bike and rode. There was finally a tail wind after three days of fighting. Once I hit over 30mph my adrenaline kicked in and I just flew the rest of the century ride. I just kept pedaling. I now only have twenty five miles to my junction with highway 96 West which is part of the Adventure Cycling route so I figured it might be better than highway 50 which is just a line on the map to me. On the computer at the library in Liberal, I zoomed in on some of the Colorado trails and got excited when I saw some very straight lines for miles which could mean bike paths (I later discovered there were no paths, only roads). A break from Semi trucks would be great. I one time hit the slip stream from an oncoming eighteen wheeler so hard it felt like I got sucked into a wormhole.
There is a good rock station on the radio. Since I am going bare bones on this trip I just have an am/fm radio. I have listened to hours of everything from country to hip hop, classical, Christian, folk, talk radio, BBC news, local blues and rock. There is one guy on “all things considered” who talks about aliens and telekinesis. That was interesting to fall asleep to while lying in a tent alone in the middle of nowhere. Libraries in the south censor what you can listen to on the internet. “One” and “Battery” by Metallica came on the radio and I rocked out. I air guitared in a dried out cow pond in a deserted farm in Kansas to Metallica. I laughed at myself later for doing this. I needed the release. I will enjoy some more music as I lay on my sand bed in the desert and cook my roast beef hash and brown rice. During the day I am still sticking with fig bars, granola bars and chocolate chip cookies. I recently added Chester’s Flamin’ Hot Fries to the menu just to spice things up a little.
After packing up in the dark this morning the sunrise over the fields cheered me up. With no one to talk to I sang to the cows. The cows are somewhat responsive but it was not the standing ovation I was hoping for. They did however run along the fence line with me for a quarter mile which was pretty cool. The first time I caused a little stampede I thought a farmer would come after me with a shot gun in hand. After riding a ways I realized the owner of this land could be living miles away. I really like when birds fly alongside. Two sparrows stayed with me for a long time today flying from post to post. As long as I kept whistling they kept flying nearby.
I was so out of it today that I put my bike shorts on backward and walked into a store. Usually I put the rain pants on but today just walked in without caring. All sweaty and dirty I just walked around like an arrogant biker. Something changes when you evolve to levels of physical capabilities where nothing anyone says or thinks has an effect, especially the general public in supermarket in places I will never see again. There is no one out here I am trying to impress but I have to say it is nice to be in the North. As a northerner there are things I just do not understand about the south that I do about the north.
4/7 80 miles to Lamar, Colorado
A good push today brought me over the border into Colorado. I found a killer spot next to the Arkansas River to camp out on. I got naked and took a sponge bath and rinsed out my sweaty clothes. If people walked down to the river and saw me in this predicament I would not have cared. It is nice to be free. Entering Colorado signified a new level of the trip and a second wind came over me. I felt great in this moment.
I decided to take highway 50 after all. It turned out to be easy riding. Somehow the wind shifted 180 degrees to my advantage for today’s ride west. The air from the north was cool. I slept in late today and felt like a million bucks having a full recovery from yesterday’s century ride. Today’s 80 miles felt like a walk in the park. I got on the road after 11:00 am and started camp with two hours of daylight. The scenery was plain Jane but nothing to complain about. A crop duster plane made its passes right over head and only feet above a power line. There have been several towns along the way for water. This Santa Fe highway is a historic trail people used to travel westward by wagon.
A good little trick I am using is again is parking my bike to block the wind and then spreading a sweater across the open part of the frame. This set up blocks wind from hitting the tent at full speed. I repaired a broken section of the tent rods with sticks I carved to the shape of the inside of the rod. The tent rods must be brittle in their old age because when they get cold they snap. I will stop at REI to see if I can replace or repair them. I left the metal tent stakes with my dad in Florida and have been carving stakes out of sticks at each camp spot then just leave them when I pack up. It saves me from having to carry the extra few ounces.
I decided while shopping today that it would be a good idea to cut down on the junk food so I can lose the weight around my mid-section before climbing the Rockies. Instead I got 90 calorie granola bars. If my bike computer is correct I burn about 1,000 calories an hour which is about 100 calories every six minutes. I can snack on these all day. I cut peanut butter out of the equation a couple states ago. I have no muscle to worry about repairing anymore and the fat content will slow me down.
4/8 83 miles to La Junta, Colorado
Like a scene out of an apocalyptic movie, dust devils the size of small tornados in the dozens ripped through the land. The air filled with dust blotting out the sun and high winds propelled tumble weeds everywhere. In the hundreds, the tumble weeds jumped at 20 mph. Trucks were pulled over to the side of the road as I stood and pedaled through the madness. If a real tornado were to form I would not have known the difference. I kept riding because there was nothing else to do besides walk or hide. This is a bike trip, not a hike. I thought Colorado would be my safe haven from the severe weather, it turned out I had to earn my way into the state as if it knew how badly I wanted to get to the Rockies. Before the chaos there was a calm where lizards scurried and wood chucks flicked their tails. Lamas raised their ears and horses stared with silent confidence.
4/9 24 miles to Fowler, Colorado
Colorado has many small towns along highway 50 so resources are plentiful. If you come through Fowler be sure to stop at Sheryl and Floyd’s Rv park where you can pitch a tent, do your laundry and enjoy a heated bath house with hot water. Thank you Sheryl!
Today was a day filled with relaxation in a computer chair. I typed this book up to this point and made arrangements to send and receive parts and supplies. I will probably do the same tomorrow.
I got my first glimpse of the Rocky Mountains today. What a sight! They took my breath away. There was a lot of snow on the peaks. The mountains to me were intimidating, and beckoning at the same time. There are equally inherent dangers and moments of magic (I would later learn this full on). Bring it!
4/10 40 miles to Pueblo, Colorado
Two flats today. I learned the hard way that you cannot have something mailed to a post office without a p.o. box unless you classify it as general delivery. I got talked to like I committed a crime by having something mailed to Pueblo’s post office. I have to call or go in to one of three post offices in time enough to get my package before it gets sent back to Florida. The one post office with a calm and rational worker is closed tomorrow and the package might come tomorrow. I already yelled at one worker over the phone so it might be asking a lot for them to do me a favor. We will see.
I stopped in at Big R, an outdoor store and picked up a tent pole repair kit, a fleece sweater, wool socks, and a winter hat. This morning it was 27 degrees outside. It did not feel so cold in the tent. As soon as I woke up at 5:30am I started the stove. I should have stayed in the tent because everything in Fowler was closed. I did not feel like waiting until 12:00pm for the library to open so I just started riding to stay warm. I hope my pedals come tomorrow so I can get out of the city and onto the Adventure Cycling bike paths in the Rockies.
4/11 35 miles to Canon City, Colorado
It was a perfect day; the pedals came in the mail. At the post office, a fellow tourist had a wrench for me to install the pedals, saving me a trip to bike shop. Bruce also hooked me up as a guest at his gym where I got a shower and a workout in. Two cyclists training for the ironman competition in Boulder gladly took my card and began filling my hand with all sorts of strange organic foods. I especially liked the bee stingers. The mountains began to engulf my surroundings from the south west and north. They were no longer large grey masses in the distance but were coming into focus. As I entered west Pueblo I was a part of the mountain landscape, slowly ascending. I could now see crevasses and plants. The horizontal plains slowly angled upward for over a mile until the backside of the land dropped away, leaving a void. The next range would slowly creep more vertically. This continued until there was a solid mountain standing confidently three thousand feet high. The highest points triangulated into sharp knuckles. The lower parts of the tops of high mountains revealed higher snowcapped mountains away in the distance. This led me into Canon City with a wide grin. I stopped to develop my film and the photo technician offered for me to camp in her rv that was parked in her yard and to return in three hours when she got off work. With this free time I rode around Canon City following the bike route signs to accidentally find one of the nicest river paths. It is hard packed gravel and clay that run along the Arkansas River; fast flowing at this stage with very clear water and white rapids. I took the path two and a half miles before turning around. The trail slowly descended alongside the river. I spotted three baby deer five feet from the side of the trail. I stopped and they stared back wondering who would make the first move. Not even five minutes later four larger white tail deer were hopping along the trail. With nowhere else to go they hopped up an almost vertical two hundred foot hill like it was nothing. How they got such a good grip on this hill was beyond me. I back tracked and decided a laundromat would be a good place to kill the rest of the night. I was able to study the AAA map of the northwest states. I met a couple who told me of a thirty mile ascent awaiting my arrival tomorrow. I told them about my early morning walk across the seven mile bridge at the beginning of the trip, they got a kick out of it.
Camping out in Marsha and Chuck’s rv turned out to be a nice experience. I had it to myself. Having privacy, a nice bed and not having to set up a tent for the night was a good break. The rear of the house was dressed up like an old town shop with high false walls and faced a train track. Very tall plants were planted behind these walls and took advantage of Colorado’s weather.
4/12 45 miles to Hartsel, Colorado
I made it up to almost nine thousand feet today. From Canon City I took 50 west to 9 north on the adventure cycling route. There were small patches of snow on top of the mountains. On the way into Guffy for a water refill, there were twelve white tail doe right on the side of the road. I saw one hawk and several blue birds; the deepest, bluest of blue.
Adjusting to the altitude is a process. My speed climbing these massive mountains is an average of 7 mph. When my heart rate starts to peak and I start to sweat I stop and take a break. It usually only takes about two or three minutes to get my wind and I can go another fifteen minutes.
By the end of the day I did not have to stop as often even though I was still climbing. Chuck later met me miles away on his Harley and we shot the breeze on the side of the highway. Every motorcyclist waved to him, I guess he knew everyone in town. They all seemed happy to see him. His Harley had custom welded chrome skulls all over it. Marsha had on a bracelet with a peace sign. Their house was bought as a brick shell and Chuck slowly reclaimed wood from barns and old houses and built a very unique rustic home. A wall of glass cubes separated the living room from the kitchen. Recycled banisters and cabinets were used throughout as well.
The reaction to me riding a bike has been really awesome so far. I am early to be going cross country. I guess most people wait a couple more months. I have only seen two people touring in this state so far. Carol and her friend Kelly stopped and we had a good chat session about bike touring. I told them some of the ups and down and made recommendations. A person who stops and takes interest really brings my mood up. I was already pretty happy about the unbelievable landscape of pine trees, award winning fly fishing creeks, and mountain tops. But being able to share a moment is this setting with other prospective tourists was nice. I can say I am happy with the forty miles of mountain climbing today. This is the first time I will camp in plain view on the side of the highway. For one thing I do not have another option because the fields are barb wire fenced. I could keep riding until I see a camp site but the sun will set prematurely as a huge mountain takes up the southwest area of the sky. I am not worried about anything here. I don’t feel judged or intimidated or threatened in any way. My nerves have fire hardened over the past few weeks. On the way to Key West I camped in the Everglades in panther country and for the next week I had a twitch in my thumb every time I heard a twig break. To get over this I slept with ear plugs in and my knife, mace and flashlight all together in the tent’s mesh pocket where I could immediately get to it. And a few times I launched out of a deep sleep and instantly had the spray in my left hand and the knife in my right ready for the turkey or raccoon that almost huffed and puffed my tent down. I still keep these items available for peace of mind but there really has not been anything to worry about. I also like to camp with trees or a fence structure behind the back of the tent. Tonight I have the barb wire fence on one side, a pine tree by my head, the bike in front of the door and the open road to my right.
I have been asked which towns I will go through and which passes I will cross. My answer is: “I will stay on 9 and head north to Yellowstone” I didn’t even know what a pass was until now. I have never been in this part of the Rockies and this is all new to me. I really like it so far. I would like less wind and some river access but that is about it. I bought iodine drops in Fowler and can use them to purify water if needed. Towns are starting to spread out again and opportunities to buy water and spreading apart.
4/13 65 miles to Breckenridge, Colorado
Last night sort of melded into this morning with three disturbing awakenings of chills going right to my bones. I did not dry my sleeping bag all the way and it kept me cold all night. I camped at high altitude which was another mistake. I tried to turn my bike computer on to see how cold it was but it froze and would not turn on. When it finally turned on after the sun came up it reset the odometer to zero. I had a drink in the bottle cage of the bike and the water in it froze solid. At one point I was afraid I would freeze to death in the middle of the night. I did every trick I could think of; tucked my shirt in, sealed edges of my clothes, I wore all my layers, used the space blanket, sealed all openings to the tent. Nothing worked and I was nervous. I lit the stove two separate times. The first time it warmed up the tent and I boiled tea. The second time it did nothing. The coyotes were crying instead of howling. They were yelping and so was I. I forgot to bring a bottle in the tent with me to pee in so I had to open the tent door and this let all the warmer air out. But while I was out in the freezing night I saw the sky filled with stars and saw a shooting star off to the north. When the sun came up I rejoiced and went to sleep for a few hours. After packing and riding up the next hill I noticed a decline in almost one thousand feet I could have kicked myself for settling on the first spot I found to camp. The long hill brought me down in to Pike National Forest where I probably could have found a legitimate camping place. And have been much lower at lower elevation. It was not long before I snapped out of my funk as the next eighteen miles were pure bliss. I gently and steadily rolled at about 20 mph without having to pedal. This was some quiet and serene country completely surrounded by snowcapped mountains. There were white tail deer in the prairies leading up to the mountains and bison in farms. I leaned back and opened a snack and enjoyed the payoff for my hard climbing yesterday. After Pike the highway led to Alma and South Park. I could not help but think of the cartoon as I went through the town. You will run into some characters in these small Colorado towns but that is what makes them interesting. Be sure to brush off any snobbery in these pristine areas as it is contagious.
The climb up to Hoosier Pass was slow and steady and brought me up over eleven thousand feet in elevation and over the continental divide for the first time in the trip. The way down the other side of the pass was a solid 30 mph and it could have been faster if it were not for the sharp turns. Taking highway 9 through this pass requires patience and good cardio. I only stopped twice during this ascent because I thought of something another cyclist named Jae said; “pace yourself in the high altitude”. Without realizing Breckenridge was right down the other side of the mountain I climbed with over a gallon of water on the bike. A mistake I would not make again if I could help it.
I really have a fascination for log cabins and this is log cabin heaven. From old rustic one room lodges to multimillion dollar cabin homes sitting way up on the peaks with a view of mountains way off in the distance. Breckinridge is a nice town with beautiful homes and the business district is so quaint it will make you want to throw up. With the gear I have on and riding a bike set up for touring I fit right in. No one stared, no one cared, everyone here is on or in between their own adventures. It is pretty cool to see this area of the country but I am not here to purchase cattle and open a homestead, I am on a long bike trip with over one thousand miles to go so I kept riding. I passed through Breckenridge and got onto one of the coolest bike trails; A newly paved downhill path with bridges and forest views. I came across a log teepee on the side of the trail. I could not fit inside it but it inspired me to stop and set up camp in the woods nearby. Tonight should be a much better night’s sleep than last.
4/14 54 miles to Wolford Mountain Reservoir (highway 40, north of Kremmling, Colorado)
The bottle in the bike’s bottle cage froze again last night but it took only a few hours after the sun came up to warm up enough to get on the bike and ride. The bike path continued all the way up highway 9 then along the Blue River. I got on interstate 70 by accident and hit 40 mph but I got off at the next exit to avoid a ticket.
Today felt like it was mostly downhill. I stopped in Kremmling, Colorado to use the library computers to upload photos. The two young women were really nice and good at answering my specific questions regarding elevation change up the road. They were hikers and knew how to explain it. Rabbit Ears Pass is supposed to be the next high pass at over nine thousand feet. I rode another few miles and intentionally ended the day short at a campground on Wolford Mountain Reservoir. With a giant soft brown peak across the water and off behind it to the right is a view of a snowcapped mountain. I laid in the tent looking at maps of the northwest and California and plotted some future trips. After camping in the woods all this time I rarely got a view like this from camp. I reminded myself that if I have to wake up in the night to go to the bathroom to take a look up the stars because I am in the middle of absolutely nowhere right now.
The city of Frisco had a recycled gear shop. I figured this would be a good place to sell my old pedals. The owner and I settled on a trade for a handful of bike tubes. (They would not last the rest of the state).
After this I stopped at a grocery store to restock the food supplies and the young cashier came out for a smoke break and started up a conversation while I tried to cram all the food into the panniers. He was originally from Tampa, Florida not far from where I live and understood exactly how far it is from here. He asked many good questions. He was intrigued and enthusiastic. I love the young crowd for this. They do not make comments about whether they could or could not do a trip like this they just get wide eyed and excited. It is really fun to see their reaction.
4/15 45 miles to Steamboat Springs, Colorado
Today I got into a fight with a mountain called Rabbit Ears and it kicked by butt. Before the epic battle I rode against the wind in a hail storm but came across an old mining village for sale. It consisted of two rows of log cabins. I day dreamed about buying the land and keeping the buildings rustic on the outside but restoring the inside and reserving one building for a hot tub. Then for the next mile I indulged in an old fantasy of building myself a log cabin. It would be near a river and made of the stone and pine from the nearby land. Electricity coming from wind, water and solar power. Plumbing a manual process of filling a tank and letting gravity carry the water to the sink. Many windows for natural lighting and a stone fireplace for heat. I kept imagining as hail bounced off my sleeves. For thirty miles I fought uphill only to get on the bike and fight against the wind downhill. If I stopped pedaling the bike would have stopped on a hill I would normally get up to 20 mph on with little effort. I would have to get off the bike as soon as the road started to rise and begin walking again. I needed a good walk. Over the next thirty miles I ascended more than descended and what appeared to be ”Rabbit Ears” presented itself as two massive boulders in the shape of ears on top of the highest peak in the area. It was covered in snow and I was happy to finally reach it because I heard that from here it would be all downhill into Steam Boat Springs. For the next hour I was slapped across the face by false summits and brutal wind gusts. I thought I had reached the top and would go downhill one hundred feet just to turn a corner and see the mountain go up another two hundred feet. I left the campground with sunny skies and no wind. But on the mountain, no matter which direction I went, the wind was head on and the temperature dropped to 21.8 degrees by the time I got to top. A hail storm ripped across the top of the mountain and my hands and feet began to freeze. I felt like an idiot for being here doing this at this time of the year. I yelled out loud at passing eighteen wheelers, I yelled at my bike for the gears slipping, and I yelled at the sign that read “Rabbit Ears Pass One Mile”. Once I got over the frozen hell, the land opened up to a view of miles of green valleys. It was like a Lord of the Rings movie. Surreal compared to what I have witnessed so far in life. My current salvation. I got on the bike because now it was really all downhill from here. I would soon be able to eat and drink something hot. The joy was short lived as the wind-chill involved in going over 20 mph downhill froze my body to the core. I had to hold the brakes then stop every ten minutes to put my hands down my pants to warm them up. I cut a shirt in half and wrapped the two halves around my hands then proceeded only to have my hands continue to freeze. I wrapped an extra t-shirt around my face. I felt so close to defeat. I slowly rolled into town with a handkerchief covering the disdainful grimace on my face. If someone were to confront me I would not have handled it well in this moment. I fantasized about brawling with an imaginary bully.
After two hot bowls of chili and some chocolate frosted donuts with a side of vitamin c I felt better but could not warm up. I developed a running nose and chronic sneezing. After finding a library and checking the weather I followed a bike path to a skate park and a dirt bmx course. I figured I could camp between the six foot jumps to get a good wind block. Instead I went behind the course and heard a small voice whispering “here, here”. I was greeted by J.J. and Alexis; two kids who lived next to the course. With a view of a ski resort peering over the dirt jumps and a concrete skate park which, yes, I did take the touring bike into for a few pumps around the walls. J.J. thought I was running from the law with the handkerchief over my face. What a vivid imagination. Later I thought about how he would have hid someone who was running from the law. What a little outlaw. I told him he would be the next Dave Mira. He said “I know”.
4/16 44 miles to Craig, Colorado
The morning was spent at the library in Steamboat Springs waiting for the weather to warm up. I developed a chronic sneeze and was hitting the vitamin c extra hard. After a few hours I decided to take a risk and ride through a patch of bad weather that was expected to last another four days. I got hit with a drizzle and put on the poncho. It served as a good wind breaker and kept me warmer in the heavy wind. I switched from the hiking boots back to the click in bike shoes since I was out of the worse of the Rockies and I wanted to start getting some miles under my belt again. The road bike shoes are ventilated so even with wool socks my feet were numb all the way to Craig. In the early evening it started to rain so I set up the tent near a closed down camp ground. I thought the ground was flat but I did not see pile of rocks until I was laying on them in the tent. (This is another mistake that would occur a few more times on the trip).
4/17 118 miles to Vernal, Utah
The first half of the riding day was decent. A little cold but the scenery was becoming very interesting. I have never been to Utah so the rock structures really had my attention. The sky was an ocean of wavy, twisted clouds of dark blue and grey. Somehow I was able to slip through an anticipated five days of bad weather. I got lucky.
A retired couple named Donna and Dennis became my adoptive parents for the next twelve hours. They saw me at the welcome center in Dinosaur Park, then again at the border into Utah, I was on the side of the highway trying to get the right angle for a camera shot of some amazing mountains when they pulled over and asked where I was heading to for the night then told me they would like to get me a hotel room.
The next town, Vernal, was thirty three miles away, I had already done eighty or so miles and was tired but a hot shower sounded good so I decided to push it. The happy couple met me at the edge of town and directed me to the hotel. My knees felt like they were going to explode. They said if I was too tired to keep riding I could have stayed at the hotel right there even though it was probably much more expensive. I did not know how to make decisions about hotels in my current state so I said “I can keep riding”. I made it to the hotel and Dennis came out and flagged my through the front doors and into the lobby like a racecar in need of a tire change. After a good shave and a hot shower they invited me out to dinner at a buffet and I ate like a Dinosaur. We talked about our travels, families, and food. They were on their way back from Hawaii visiting their son. The room was typical for a hotel but compared to camping it seemed like luxury. I have not used gas, electricity, a flushing toilet, TVs, lamps in a very long time it seemed. It all seemed very wasteful in comparison to what a person actually needs and I made a mental note to never take running water for granted ever again. Not having to set up a tent but fall onto a big soft bed with ten big pillows and a fluffy comforter was awesome. Donna and Dennis really hooked it up at a time when I really needed it.
4/18 58 miles to Duchesne, Utah
I woke up at 7:30 as refreshed as a song bird. I made my first round to the breakfast bar and ate two muffins, a bowl of cereal with nuts and raisins added on top, a cinnamon bun, a yogurt, and three cups of orange juice. I brought my bike in the shower and hosed it down. I removed the front and rear wheel and gave each a thorough cleaning. I cleaned my stove and its carrying bag of all the ash. I cleaned the outside of the dry bags. I was going to work out but I caught Dennis having breakfast in the dining area and we reiterated what we talked about last night as I went through rounds two and three of my breakfast. Donna came out and they told me I could stay a second night if I wanted but the weather was perfect today. Blue skies and temperatures between 60 and 80. They left me with a new Grizzlies hoodie and some water bottles. What an awesome couple. I went back to the room and packed. As I left I felt what I can only describe as human. The sneezing stopped. What I was before I do not know. Somewhere between animal and machine I suppose.
I picked up some stove fuel and set up camp two hours before sun down because the tent was still wet from the snow. Within fifteen minutes the dry desert air completely dried out the tent. I spent the rest of the time texting everyone in my phone. I highly recommend this area to adventure seekers.
4/19 46 miles to Uita National Forest
In the Starvation Lake area I got six cars to give me a thumbs up or a beep. Like Donna told me; the ride to Heber City would be long and uphill. I pushed as far as I could without hurting myself. The last ten miles developed a headwind coming off the reservoir. That just about shut me down. With the free time I repaired the three breaks in the tent poles then crawled inside the tent for a long stare at the maps. I am posed with several navigational problems. There is no direct road from Heber City to Salt Lake City. My plan to get through the city is to camp right before and after and to ride through it in a single day.
As for the really cool camping spot I am in tonight; I am surrounded by mountains. Across the reservoir are ones with snow. I am in a natural crater in the land which gives me good privacy and wind protection. Behind me is the Uita Forest and is covered in a layer of soft green bushes. Utah is another very surprising state, having desert terrain and also pine trees along with ski resorts. In fact, everything from Breckinridge, C.O. will all be new to me. I have no idea how to plan the rest of the route so I will just be rolling with the punches day to day. I considered going to the Pacific Coast and taking 101 North as a way to make navigating easier.
4/20 55 miles to Orem, Utah
Another pleasant surprise in the northwest. I woke up thinking about how you are not awakened by birds and do not have a mountain view when you wake up in a hotel room. After a slow pack up while the coffee was brewing, I headed uphill for seven miles. I am fairly high in elevation. The next eighteen miles were downhill. If it were not for the headwind and deer carcasses the ride here would have been perfect. I did some food shopping in Heber City; a beautiful view opened up around a reservoir surrounded by incredible mountains. The rest of the way on 189 was rough biking but the scenery was pure bliss. I pulled into Provo, Utah and borrowed some tools to change a spoke at 2nd Tracks. Kelsie and Shawn were friendly and young adventurers and were awesome to have a conversation with. They breathed new life into my trip.
4/21 95 miles to Willard Bay State Park
Once I got to redwood road it was downhill with a tailwind all the way to Salt Lake City. I woke up at 4:00am and was on the road just as the sun was coming up. It was a chilly morning but a hot day. I got down to shorts and a t-shirt for the first time in a while. Once things leveled out I found a bike path that would go on forever. I ran into a fellow on a tricycle recumbent named John Sylvester who put twenty dollars in my hand toward the trip. He took off and we later crossed paths again where he invited me to his house and he showed me some awesome bikes he had hanging in his garage, including a Colnago. Before I left he filled a grocery bag to the brig with canned food and refilled my water bottles. What an awesome guy. With all the extra weight added to the already loaded down bike I popped a second tube for the day. The empty state park sat not too far away and I found a grassy little nook to setup camp with the door open to a view of Black Mountain and Willard Peak. John gave me sardines and I tried them tonight for the first time. Not bad. I had a huge dinner tackling the heaviest cans first. Tomorrow I am aiming for the Idaho border.
4/22 85 miles to the Idaho border
It was a very hazy day riding through the rest of Utah. I am little torn because the scenery was spectacular but it was so hazy it was hard to see the mountains unless you were within twenty miles. The road surfaces were rough. I popped another two tubes today. The Mountains were sheer vertical cliff-faced giants. They looked impenetrable. And I am happy to make it into Idaho. The road angels of the day are John and Lois. John, a cyclist who has rode behind the guys at the Tour de France and partied it up in each city. The couple was also coming from Florida but by car. Awesome people. He put twenty in my hand and kept in touch the rest of the trip. Looking at the map from a mileage standpoint I am giving myself four more days across Idaho, five days across Oregon, the four days north to Neah Bay, I have been forewarned by several people that I still have the Cascades to go through so I may need another day in each state but I anticipate finishing around April 9th which would make the trip two months from Start to finish. This would be a huge accomplishment for me.
I switched to eating white rice and put a few pounds back on. I felt really strong today. I ate mixed vegetables last night, got a good night’s sleep and psyched myself up this morning,. I ate oatmeal and tea for breakfast and paced myself as I rode today. I thought about a racer; George Hincapie’s father who in George’s book compares ones’ endurance to a book of matches and how every time you let out a burst of energy you burn one match. This metaphor was applied to racing; in touring it is more like one big candle. You push at about sixty percent all day. If you push too hard, injury is right around the corner. If you go too slowly, the mileage-to-butt pain ratio does not add up.
So far the northwest feels surreal. The scenery is so different and strange to me. I am seeing all of this for the first time and very slowly, compared to driving a vehicle through a state.
4/23 70 miles to Burley, Idaho
Every mile was a fight against the wind. I almost quit at mile thirty. Then again at mile forty five but my stomach felt off from all the tuna I have been eating lately so knew I needed to keep going in order to find something else for dinner. I got to Declo but was told by Melanie, yet another road angel, that the next food store is another eight miles west into Burley. Thanks for the yogurt, I will slice the apple into my oatmeal for breakfast tomorrow!
I made my way to the store then back onto highway 30 west far enough out of town to set up camp. Idaho has its fair share of mountains. The haze has toned down since Utah. The highway finds the flattest route but there are some long drawn out climbs and similar descents. Since the Rockies, the wind has been consistently prevailing from the west. A lot of the plants are bent toward the east. The only two things I am focused on are making it to the finish line and replenishing spent calories.
The wind was very capable of breaking me. To keep my composure, I began listing all my gear piece by piece. Then I started explaining its purpose to the cars passing. There were longer than usual gaps between words as the cold gusts tried to stop me. I just kept pushing. The lactic acid build up in my right quad was a sharp spasm. I took the blade of my elbow and jabbed it into the area of pain and rubbed it in circles. I gritted my teeth and the pain slowly went away. I started using my left leg more after that. Although in the pain most of the way I am happy to have gotten this far today.
4/24 65 miles to Wendall, Idaho
It was another day against the wind except colder and rainy. I got off highway 30 at Kimberly and headed for the interstate, a man named Scott stopped and offered a ride while I was off the bike getting peanut butter cookies out of the rear pannier. I explained that I needed to complete every mile of the trip. We talked about the wind and parted ways. He would be the only person I talked to today besides a cashier. The road can be an uninhabited place.
The fat gofers scurrying into their dens as I rode passed got a laugh out of me. The rock station 103.1 “the edge” is pretty good and has been my main form of entertainment the last few days. Idaho has been a relief from mountain climbing but the wind is just as challenging. At Wendall there was an exit and a sign for Niagara State Park. I rode three miles and did not see it so I needed to find a place to camp and quick as the sun was setting and the forecast called for thirty two degree tonight. I lucked out and found the second dried out cow pond of the trip. It has a sandy bottom with six foot walls surrounding on all sides. I am a sitting duck if someone of something wanted to bother me but as for wind protection it is ideal. There are almost no trees in Idaho so finding an acre of pine trees to hunker down in like I did in the south is out of the question.
4/25 60 miles to Mountain Home, Idaho
Today had some serious hill climbs with good descents that were not overly stopped by wind. I woke up charged and ready to go this morning and fought the wind and hills fiercely. I averaged 13 mph so I only rode for four hours instead of the six I did yesterday. There was plenty of daylight to keep going but my knee tells me when it’s time to stop. I have heard of peoples’ knees swelling up like balloons from too much pedaling. This has not happened yet but a little pain starts up when it’s time to stop. The Achilles has been getting better and I attribute its pain to the weight of the bike. I am almost through the canned goods so the weight is reducing.
I replaced the rear continental with the tire in a bag. It was tough getting it on. Eventually it took putting one tire lip on, then stuffing the tube in, and finally pushing the other lip on. After an hour I got it on. It looks great and is two centimeters narrower than the previous tire. The rear tire bears most of the weight and wears out faster than the front. On the bike now is a Panaracer and was used as a rear for a month of training until I got the continental then used as the front for another month of training and still has enough tread to get me to Seattle. When we put the new rear rim on in Mississippi we did not make sure the chain line was straight. I have been having rear derailleur issues since I readjusted the front derailleur to give me the granny gear. I thought about moving it back up to the third gear to give some speed to the bike but with the Cascade mountain range coming up it might be better to leave it where it is. If I can get to the Oregon border tomorrow I will be on schedule. After looking at the map again; at 60 miles a day it should take five days to get to Portland, the coast the day after, then three more days to Neah Bay. With Portland having over one hundred thousand people I planned it so I can enter in the middle of the day and be far enough away to camp without getting stuck in the city or suburbs.
4/26 30 miles northwest on highway 84 (20 miles east to Boise)
I rode for over five hours entirely uphill and against the wind. Sea sickness set in as the wind pushed and the truck’s slip stream pulled. Gusts were over 30 mph. A fellow cyclist name Russ stopped to offer a ride into Boise; about twenty five miles away. I declined but thanked him. He gave me a Gu lemon lime sublime which I have yet to try and two granola bars. One of which he warned tasted bad and to save for when I am starving. I ate the Bare Naked bar and was still hungry so I tried the Moroccan bar. It tasted like raisins and peanuts that been left in a swamp for a year. It made me feel good after a few miles. Good enough to feel human enough to call it quits for the day. Since my knee started cracking on mile five this morning I had to make the decision to stop. Last night I set up the tent directly in the wind and I did not make the same mistake tonight. I set up down behind some bushes and latched the tent to the bike as it leaned against its kick stand. I am beginning to resent doing this trip in way. It is not enjoyable anymore. Maybe the other states will better but right now this is brutal.
Chapter 4: Trip Climax
4/27 88 miles to Vale, Oregon
The positive aspects of the day are diminished by obnoxious drivers. The road is an aggressive place and is not necessarily where serenity is found. I do not have the same strength I had when I started. My patience is wearing thin and I am sick of exhaust fumes and the sound of trucks and motorcycles. The last stretch is hard for me because I tend to lose interest in things right before they are complete. This is one of the most liberating things a person can do yet I am choking and feel constricted. I just want this to be over and on to the next aspect of my life. The respite of being in a new place every day has lost its excitement. I have been to the same small town one hundred times, rode through the same farm and talked to the same people. I ride all the way to the right with a reflective vest on and tail light blinking. I signal and wave. I am bored. No one is here telling me “you can do it” No one really cares that much if I complete this. I need to reset my brain and remember what this is all about.
4/28 73 miles to unity, Oregon
Someone must have heard me complaining yesterday because today was a complete turnaround. A gentle breeze pushed at my back. The Blue Mountains revealed themselves. Hills turned to mountains and snowcapped peaks appeared through gaps in the pre historic outcrops. Bright yellow flowers surrounded by vibrant green grass made way to little creeks. For every tough climb there was a descent that would rival a tour in France. I met a touring cyclist; Michael, the first since Colorado. He lives in Seattle and is touring to Utah. We exchanged contact information. He told me I could get water at a cafe bout twenty miles away. It is the high desert here and dehydration sets in fast. I burned through three liters in no time. The café turned out to be a general store and rv park. Connie gave me a complimentary night of camping and laundry facility use. I also got a much needed hot shower. If you can get through Idaho, you will be rewarded in Oregon. I hear it gets difficult to ride especially with logging trucks in these mountains. I will take it as it comes. So far my esteem has returned one hundred percent. This transition has been unpredictable like many other transitions from state to state along the trip. I will continue with all electronics charged, one gallon jug of water, two 1.5 liter bottles of water, food, clean clothes and hopefully another hot shower in the morning.
4/29 80 miles to Dayville, Oregon
One of the bad things about camping in a campground is waking up to the sound of someone calling for the dog. I did sleep well and woke up refreshed. The wind all of a sudden stopped at dark. I crossed two very high passes and enjoyed five miles of 30 mph cruising through winding turns weaving through pine forests with strange mountains taking many different shapes. Some had sides weathered away and exposing orange, pink, and purple rocks. The second summit brought me down into the ranch town of Prairie City which reminded me of the descent into Steamboat Springs, Colorado. I met a real estate agent named Marsha who was on her way to clean a three thousand square foot log cabin on forty acres of land. If I had an extra three thousand dollars I would have gone with her. The wind was at my face but I forged on with my 80 mile goal in mind. I stopped at 27 miles for a break. Then again at 54 miles and this became my thirdly break system I developed for my 80 mile days. There happened to be a state park where I stopped so I sat and ate three peanut butter sandwiches back to back the set sail after studying the map and letting my phone charge,. Oregon has some of the most beautiful untouched landscape I have seen so far. The land takes on a wild wild west theme with soft edges of green grass; a cross between prairie and desert. The plants near the rivers release a pleasant fragrance and the mountains on the distance are still snowcapped. I found an open gate to a lot of overgrown grass and no sign of recent activity and made my way down near the John Day River where I set up my tent and ate a meal fit for a king.
Unfortunately, I have to report that two dogs overstepped their boundary and got a face full of mace. It was one of those roads where every other house has a dog who will run to the edge of the property and bark at you until you are down the road. I had a few scares. One of the last houses before the edge of town had two dogs that ducked under a wooden slat fence. The owner called half heartedly a couple times. I did not have the energy at 60 miles in and full panniers, plus over a full gallon of water and the wind in my face to out run them so my hand went for the can of mace. When they got within ten feet I sprayed in their general direction and the collie looking dog back away. I kept riding but the pit mix was right at my right foot and growling. I gave him a direct hit square in the eyes and he fell back. I looked back and he was pawing mace out of his eye. I am a dog lover so it hurt to do that. Hopefully the owners will put up a real fence so that never happens again. I noticed a lot of the dogs looking at my shiny silver bike shoes as they are barking up a storm. Since I cracked the bottom plastic plate in half on the right shoe I will be throwing these shoes out as they are beyond repair. I will have to deal with the lesser efficient riding style that sneakers offer for the rest of the trip. Dirt gets in the hex screws then cakes up. When you need to tighten the screw the Allen key does not fit in the hole. Not realizing my strength, I went to kick dirt out of the screws but instead stomped the shoe down so hard it cracked the plastic. This was several weeks ago. I did a few things here and there to doctor it but it is now unfixable. Other things are starting to fall apart; pieces of the interior rubber lining of the rain pants get caught in the sprocket and after a while tear all the rubber out. The tail light I have hooked to the back of the helmet has unclipped and fallen enough times so that the red plastic cover has broken off. The new rear rim has a popped spoke. Two of the three tent poles are broken. I have to park the bike right next to the tent and hold up the side of the tent with a bungee hooked to the end of the damaged pole then hook it to the bike. My glasses have broken.
A store called Fred Myers had 99% Isopropyl alcohol. The stuff burns hot like a furnace but leaves ash all over everything and the fumes are unbearable. If you touch the ash everything you touch after will turn black. A lot of my clothes and gear have gotten ashy. My rear end saddle sores have turned into one big rash across my butt. The most pain is in the areas that my saddle pushes on. I let my beard start to grow out. It looks horrible right now, but I need the warmth through these final mountain passes. I find myself thinking about what I will do when this is over. Return to a life of comfort? Or plan another adventure? There are some inherent benefits to roughing it.
4/30 80 miles to Mitchell, Oregon
The scenic bike byway on highway 19 off of highway 26 took the cake away from Colorado as my favorite ride in the country so far. The temperature was at 75.9 degrees in the late morning, not a cloud in the sky and the breeze pulled cool air off the pretty John Day River. I hope to canoe this river one day. This area is easily the most exotic place I have ever been. I came through by accident and stumbled upon serene untouched landscape. The roads are new and there are signs at every small junction so it is easy to navigate with a map. My eyes were wide open and I rode in the middle of my lane as there was barely any traffic all day. I got to the junction with 270 and second guessed myself a few times about which way to go. Continue north to Fossil to continue in Prehistoric dinosaur land or go to Mitchell to get water and stay in the forest environment and get to Prineville where there may be a place to get a spare tube. I chose Mitchell to Prineville then I will go through Madras to Portland and 270 has some murderous climbs but the descents are top notch. I hit 45.7 mph, my fastest speed ever on a bicycle and I would have gone faster if I had not had to hit the brakes in anticipation for a hard right turn. I broke the legal speed limit of 40 mph around that turn. A car passed and I let out a loud and adrenaline filled “whoo hoo!” with a two mile smile. As you travel past these ancient lands your imagination runs wild with the thoughts of giant monsters in the air and on land. I have never seen this place on film or pictures, only in artists’ depictions of what land would look like when dinosaurs existed. To stumble upon it is a real treat. It was a life changing experience for me. To think that some ranchers live here and are used to this is beyond words. Oregon will be one state I will truly miss.
5/1 60 miles to Prineville, Oregon
I ate a four thousand foot pass for breakfast then forty miles of headwind for lunch and hills for dinner until I found a picnic table in the shade by a trail and decided I did enough today. The Ochoco National Forest was another one of Oregon’s great parks. Beware of little to no shoulder and very fast drivers if you ever decide to ride a bike through here. Prineville has cell phone service but the food shopping is expensive. It is a little more difficult to set destinations in the northwest because the terrain and wind are unpredictable.
I had to peel my body off the ground like a pancake stuck to a pan. I was so exhausted this morning once back on the bike I felt I did not even take a break between this morning and yesterday. I would love a few Gu espressos but there will not be a bike shop until Portland. It is strange to see open and flat land by Prineville not being ranched out. In the higher lands every parcel of land has green grass for the cows. There was even a hill with zig-zagging walking paths so the cows could graze way up on the steep hill. There are some of the prettiest horses up on these ranches. A black and white paint got my blue ribbon. Another area that stood out was a reservoir up in the high desert surrounded by cliffs with large pines.
5/2 83 miles to Sandy, Oregon
The majority of the day today was climbing up gradually to the two four-thousand foot summits in Mt. Hood National Forest filled with forty foot pine trees and dense woods. Beware of a little shoulder and very fast cars. There are rock fall areas and close traffic in the Warm Springs Reservation. If you make it through the challenge, the descent is another top notch ride. I peaked at 37 mph today and Oregon reminds me of sleigh riding as a kid; climb the hill for a fast but fun thrill ride back down. Besides the thrill this area has some great lush pine forest with ferns, waterfalls and of course the amazing Mt. Hood and all its neighboring mountains. There are several stores on the way down into Rhododendron but on the way through the forest there are no places to get water except the creeks. Use discretion. I filled up and purified and drink about a liter then later filled up from a rock spring with moss. It looked and tasted ideal so did not purify. As soon as I could buy a gallon I did and dumped the other water on some nearby plants. I let the iodine settle for almost an hour and did not have stomach issues from the iodine for the first time. So the longer you can wait to drink iodine purified water the better.
I had about three honks but the day was pretty much disconnected from people and all about the work of climbing and nature. I really like not having to be told what to do and live day to day on my own accord. I did listen to some news debates regarding the protests in Baltimore and about Hillary Clinton’s money sandals. There are protests going on in Portland, hopefully I will not have any problems going through the city tomorrow.
5/3 69 miles to Manning, Oregon
I pulled into Gresham, a sister city of Portland around noon. I heard a rattle in my wheel which turned out to be a popped spoke. When I loosened it air started pouring out from the tube which means I tightened a spoke too much or a spoke was too long. I have been told double-walled rims are better for avoiding this problem. The only spare tube I had was a presta with a broken pin so I found a local bike rider and he directed my to the local bike shop call GBC. They were really cool dudes and took the cassette off for me free of charge. I bought two schrader tubes for eight bucks. One got a shard in it and popped about five miles away. Most of my flats have been when I am riding through a city. I never use the sidewalk but choose the side of the road where all the sharp debris ends up. While at the bike shop I had an ipod I found in one of the national parks charging at a nearby Radio Shack. When I got back to it the charge was almost complete and when I hit the button, it turned right on. I enjoyed the music that was on it for the rest of the day.
In Portland, highway 26 turns into Burnside Road and I followed it, the gps had me go way up into the hills with a grand view of the city and nearby mountains. At two points the road turns into a tunnel that went though the mountain. A bike path leads you toward the outside of the mountain and brings you right back to the road. On the path you are immersed in the thickest green forest you can imagine; with sheer drops and no guard rail. Once up and over there is a nice descent down to the actual highway 26 which is interstate at this point. I went shopping before heading back into the country. I made a great discovery; dry milk. Just add water to this powder and you have milk. It tastes better than liquid evaporated milk. It is also very high in protein. In fact when added to cereal I could not tell it was less than anything other than real milk. I wish I thought of this earlier but better late than never. I stopped at a food mart in North Plains to fill the water bottles for tomorrow’s trip to the Pacific Coast and met Jessica and her coworker. I told Jessica where I had come from and she gave me a fresh gallon of water, her coworker gave me a thin mint ice cream. And a random customer came over and gave me a hug. After turning into wilderness man with a gruff beard and ash stains on my shirt from the stove and dirty hands from changing tires it was nice getting some attention other than blank stares.
When I popped my tube it was on a major bike path and three different cyclists stopped to make sure I was ok. One guy, John, originally from L.A. stopped and had a ten minute conversation about the health benefits cycling has for him even having diabetes. Portland had so many sub communities and I sensed urban culture for the first time in a long time. Cities are not particularly the best places for touring cyclists who have gotten used to the county so I tried to hurry through but the high climbs kept me in Portland for a while. I just about ran out of daylight while setting up the tent twenty miles out of the city. Only three hundred more miles to the destination.
Chapter 5: Final Push
5/4 83 miles to Washington State
Oregon would not let me leave as its giant hills slowed me down to a crawl. The journey to the coast was fifty miles through state parks. The forest seemed to grow even denser the closer to the ocean I got. A detour led me from Seaside through a Lewis and Clark park where the first coyote showed itself. It trotted happily across the road completely unaware of my presence. The bridge from Oregon to Washington looked huge from ground level. At first I thought I would have to hitch a ride over it but signs read “bikes on road bridge”. That answered that. The view was spectacular. The sun broke through the overcast sky long enough for me to cross then it started raining on the other side. A massive drop propelled me into the mid 30 mph range then the bridge leveled out twenty feet above the water for about a mile. Washington looked more like Japan with its layers of trees upon layers of mountains. To think if the weather was better I would have come into Washington from Montana and missed Oregon and this experience.
5/5 80 miles to Aberdeen, Washington
Today I started seeing touring cyclists all along 101. Among them were Luke Yates, an Englishman touring Australia, America, and Canada. As well as Anika and Lucy, two girls from Canada touring from San Francisco back up to Canada. Washington’s forest has only gotten thicker almost to the point of becoming claustrophobic. I got my first real glimpse at the ocean and found a campsite right down by it. The trail from the road down to the beach has an enchanted forest vibe going on. Down on the flat sand beach there are hundreds of washed up pine trees with all limbs and bark worn away from the sea water and near the logs are smooth grey river rocks. To walk on the second beach on a coast to coast bike trip is one of the freest spirited moments of my life.
I am sitting on a washed up pine tree with sand on the bottom of my feet and a cup of Earl Grey tea in my hand watching the sun set over dozens of sets of waves in the Pacific Ocean. Neah Bay is in sight down the coast 80 miles but I am content here. It is so peaceful here. The sea level air smells of salt. The sound of waves crashing and gulls talking has me at ease. Right now there is no tomorrow and was not a yesterday. The moment itself is the only thing that matters.
5/7 60 miles to Pillar Point on highway 112
It was a picture perfect day with blue skies and a gentle tail wind for a few hours. The rest of the ride along the Pacific Ocean was really amazing. With 80 miles to go I set off fully determined to finish the day and the trip into Neah Bay. The roads were great and I enjoyed the lack of fences and barb wire between myself and the rivers and trees. At one point there was construction so one side had to wait to be guided through the work area. I shot to front of the waiting line and followed he guided truck once we started moving. As soon as the opportunity presented itself I crossed into the right lane to get out of the way. I went over the middle of the road rumble strip then heard “woosh woosh woosh” My rear tire went flat. By this time the wind shifted to headwind and the land began to have hills so I changed the tube quickly. I analyzed the flat and it punctured from the inner area as if a spoke was protruding but there was no spoke. I rode hard for ten miles then I got off 101 to take 113 to Neah bay there was a nice double waterfall to my right so I stopped to take a break. I got back on then “woosh woosh woosh”. Another flat on the rear tire. This time the puncture was from the side. I checked the rim and the tire but nothing was protruding. I cut the bad tube in half long ways and lined between the rim and tube. After an hour I got it inflated and got back on to ride. About five miles later. You guess it “woosh woosh woosh”. But this time I was going nearly 30 mph and the bike kept riding far. I did another couple miles and stopped. The rear was fine. It was the front tire that sprung a leak. I am now out of spare tires and over 40 miles to Port Angeles, the nearest town with tubes. But Neah Bay is twenty two miles away. I walked a half mile and came to the junction with 112. 112 west would take me twenty two miles to my personal victory. 112 east would take me forty miles to Port Angeles. I stood there looking at the map completely disheartened and uncertain of what to do. To add to the frustration, the front tube that last popped is a self-sealing tube and if left inflated overnight, it could seal itself. From my experience it is a 50/50 chance of sealing. After much deliberation I figured the best case scenario would still leave me with a long walk and that skipping Neah Bay would be the responsible thing to do. Heading east on 112, I got a couple miles on the half inflated front tire, then another few miles after pumping it up, then I began to walk. At first feeling very defeated and in disbelief about blowing three tubes like that. But the disappointment soon wore off as the forest revealed itself in a way I had not yet experienced, and that is by foot. I began to notice all the things I passed by on the bike. The recently budded flowers, the moss on the trees, frogs, and the multitude of birds chirping. There was a sign for a recreation park up a mile ahead so decided I would camp there as there were no better alternatives. It turned out I found a spot on a fifty foot cliff overlooking the Straight of Juan de Fuca. Canada’s Vancouver Island was across the 15 mile stretch of water and a large snow covered mountain appeared through the haze to the north east. I am not sure if this is the official end to the trip but I will head to Seattle by bike or by foot over the next couple days. On the trip so far a lot of the best experiences were right after bad experiences so I have learned to do what is within my power but the rest is not in my hands.
5/8 65 miles to Sequim, Washington
I woke up at 4:00am and decided I was going to sleep in so I went back to bed and shortly after that the birds started partying. Through my ear plugs I could hear the liveliness of the rain forest. The tube held air over night and got me 24 miles. After that I had to pump it up every few miles until I got to Port Angeles where a cyclist named Tony guided my frustrated self to the bike path. Along the way we met Laura, a touring cyclist who was sticking to bike paths and also stealth camping. She really got my attention when she said she hiked the entire Pacific Crest Trail.
After Tony left me from the bike shop Jim, originally from Massachusetts, guided me back to the bike trail and showed me to Walmart. The video game Forza Horizon has come into my mind along this trip and I have been dying to play it again. There was a demo of the new Forza game in the electronics department so I raced the McClaren one time and won. I would love a comfortable leather chair and an opportunity to beat this whole game right now. I am camping along the Olympic Discovery Trail for bikes I am not sure where it leads but so far it goes in the direction I need.
5/9 55 miles to Seattle, Washington
Dozens of giant challenging hills tried to stop me from reaching Seattle but I powered up and down them with a piece of thorn protection bulging out of my front tire. A group of four cyclists training passed me on the side of the road eating peanut butter and I clapped them up as they flew down the hill. I packed up my peanut butter jar and decided to catch up to them. I got on the bike and they were already a mile ahead but I decided I wanted to catch the leader. I got passed the last guy to look up and see the rest of the group was at the top of the hill waiting for the guy I passed. Surprised to see me instead of the last rider they clapped me up and laughed because I was loaded down with my camping gear but was able to beat their friend. From there it was more rough riding until I got into Bremerton and then took the ferry into Downtown Seattle to finish the trip.
I must add to the trip the few days afterward where I stayed with Don and Anne from Warmshowers.com. This was the first time I used the site and it turned out to be a wonderful experience. I was able to camp in their backyard at the edge of a lake in the dank dense Washington forest. An eagle perched up high on a tree above the yard and a river otter swam across the glassy lake. I spent three days there and was able to get the book typed and got some training in for some upcoming backpacking I would end up doing east of Seattle and in Glacier National Park. It was a great way to end the journey.
Tips and tricks:
Ride white line on the road and search for the smoothest surface if it is safe.
For electronics that require batteries; turn one upside down when not using the devise to save battery power.
Wet wipes. Enough said.
If you pop a spoke and cannot replace it right away; remove and bend the opposite end that is threaded into a hook. Find a spoke near the hole it belongs to and hook it to the spoke. Tighten nipple or adjust length.
Lube your chain every one hundred miles or when you hear the slicing sound.
Pump your tires up every one hundred miles.
Distribute weight 60% to %80 in the back. Put most of your water in 1.5 liter bottle and use the bottle cages as they are low and centered. Bring a gallon jug. You can use a carabineer to hook the jug to the size of a pannier. S-biners work well.
Anticipate the worst case scenarios and prepare for them. Once prepared; relax, headphones, ear plugs, etc.
If you were a day’s walk away from the nearest town with a broken bike, could you: repair the bike, hunker down, have enough food and water for a two day’s walk?
If it started to downpour and the temperature dropped, how quickly could you create a shelter and do you have multiple ways to start a fire in case one method did not work?
If you or someone in your group got hurt do you have first aid? Label the 1st aid and survival kit.
Use the water from canned goods to boil rice or pasta as a broth. It conserves drinking water.
Use a carabineer to hook a gallon jug of water somewhere off the side of the pack.
Cut down weight from gear like a light-weight back packer would do. Remove excess packaging material, replace metal zipper tabs with string, cut down on bags with containers, use zip lock bags wherever possible.
Put painter’s plastic under the tent and another over the tent but under the rain fly. Be sure to leave space for ventilation. It insulates, keeps dry, and keep critters out.
Use 91% Isopropyl alcohol as stove fuel. Ventilate the area. Beware of ash. You can buy it in most places. It is cheap and burns hot.
Use salt in water when boiling, it will boil faster and conserve fuel.
Lay down extra clothing, space blanket, and tarp under you while sleeping in the tent to provide more insulation.
Use the sun as a way to tell time and direction.
Turn your head side to side and use ears as a way to tell which way the wind is blowing.
Use your bike with a poncho over the frame as a wind block while camping.

Special Thanks to contributors and those who have influenced this trip:
Dad, Michael Taylor, Jae, The Bike Shop, Chris Conforti, Jim Anderson, Sandy Barbee, Christine Romano, John greenwood, Bob Langley, Lisa bike tube, Barbara green tea, Adam Wilson bike lights, Wiley Buffalo, Sheryl and Floyd, Shane and Sheena, Bruce gym, Chuck and Marsha, Donna and Dennis Gibbs, Melanie Declo, Russ Idaho, John Sylvester, John and Lois Utah, Eve and Pat Idaho, Don and Anne Seattle.

Recommended Reading:
Ten Points by Bill Strickland, Across America by Bicycle: Alice and Bobbi’s Summer on Wheels by Alice Honeywell and Bobbi Montgomery. A Trailside Guide: Bicycling by Peter Oliver. Positively False by Floyd Landis. The Boomer’s Guide to Lightweight Backpacking: New Gear for Old People by Carol Corbridge. 98.6 degrees, The Art of Keeping Your Ass Alive by Cody Lundin. No Shortcuts to the Top by Ed Viesturs. Miles from Nowhere: Around the World Bicycle Adventure by Barbara Savage.