What's Wrong With This Picture?

I spotted this today, and just had to turn around to get a picture.  What is wrong here?

I'll post the answer soon.  I promise!
Sent from my HTC Inspire™ 4G on AT&T



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53 Year Old Mom Looks 33
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Mount Rushmore

Well, we've made it this far.

Greetings From The Windy City

I've passed through Chicago a few times before and never thought much of it, although in fairness, I don't recall ever getting off the interstate except maybe for gas.  And I never went through the heart of that toddling town.  Today it's going to be surface streets all the way!

This One's For You

Hey, the gold dome, our bikes, and I think even the dame if you look carefully.  No, I'm not an alumni, but I am Irish and was raised catholic...

Sue & Stanley

We stopped to visit my cousin Sue and Stanley.  Sue has WiFi but we were too busy yakking to do any typing, so I can at least get a photo uploaded quickly.

Goodbye Virginia. Good Riddance To Your Drivers!

Our last view of Virginia, leaving Tangier Island.

Are All Californians Celebrities?  We Are!

Hey, I'm going for 2 days in a row; a real accomplishment lately.  We are currently at Jane's Island State Park which is just outside of Crisfield Maryland.  We awoke this morning in Buzzard Point Marina in the tidewater area of the western shore.  That western shore refers to the Chesapeake Bay. The loyal followers of the blog know that of course.

We were camped right by the dock from which the ferry departs, so there wasn't much to this morning except to pack our gear and get on the boat.  That part of Virginia is really very beautiful and the view from the water did not disappoint, although it did give a much different impression than the view from the roadways.  From the roadways it was obvious that the region is very rural, agricultural and has plenty of folks living somewhere near or below the poverty line.

Virginia has 3 peninsulas that form much of the western shore of the bay.  Only one of these, I believe that it is called the James Peninsula, has much in the way of population.  With Jamestown, Yorktown and Colonial Williamsburg there is opportunity to develop tourism.  Being the closest to the mouth of the bay, it also had an advantage historically and Newport News, which had long been a major shipbuilding center if I am not mistaken, is at the end of this peninsula.  Also, Norfolk is just across the James River.  The other 2 peninsulas have always been rural, swampy, and have relied on agriculture and fishing as the major industries.  I don't know how good, or rich the soil is from a farmer's point of view, but I can say that there are not large tracts for developing.  So I am guessing that even in the best of times, these 2 peninsulas have never been extremely prosperous.  But that story isn't told very well from the water.

As the ferry pulled out this morning, the sights were nothing short of spectacular.  There were many different inlets and streams creating a maze of waterways to choose from.  And lining each of these were magnificent homes, all neatly kept, with expansive lawns reaching down to the water's edge, where almost every home had a beautiful boat.  It reminded me of a scene that one might picture in Disney's version of an antebellum Rivers of America attraction.  When we entered the bay I got a sense of just how large the Chesapeake is.  As we got farther away from the peninsula we had left, I stopped paying close attention to the views, because it seemed that there was nothing to look at but water.  I am not sure if we did in lose sight of land, but if we didn't, it would have been just a speck on the horizon.  I am fairly familiar with the San Francisco Bay and how it looks from the water.  At 60 or more miles long and about 10 miles wide, it is a pretty substantial body of water, but it is absolutely dwarfed by the Chesapeake.

Tangier Island is a page out of history, literally.  Because of its location, it has been isolated for most of its 300 or so years of habitation by European settlers.  They have a dialect of English that is apparently a throwback to old English, and linguists have devoted plenty of time studying it.  The primary industry has been and still remains fishing.  There are a couple of restaurants, gift shops and even a couple of bed and breakfasts to cater to tourists, but there is nothing to do there.  If you were looking for a peaceful weekend, this would be a good choice, but the only thing to do other than hang out at the b&b, would be to take a walk to the beach.  The roads are only about 10 feet wide and there are very few motor vehicles other than golf carts.  On Tangier you don't have a family car, you have a family golf cart.  But don't let that fool you.  The golf cart drivers on Tangier firmly cemented our opinion that the drivers in Virginia are the worst that we have experienced on the trip.  On U.S. 17, as I mentioned, we were nearly run off the road on multiple occasions.  On Tangier, Riley was actually hit by a hag on a golf cart who couldn't even be bothered to stop to see if he was alright.

So, the final word on Tangier Island is, while it is a quaint place to visit, don't do it!

We left Tangier and arrived in Crisfield MD, where we were treated like celebrities at one of the local pizza establishments.  The folks were amazed that we had come from California by bicycle.  The owner of the place, a woman named Billie, gave us a bag of steamed soft shell crabs to take with us.  She apologized for not being able to locate a souvenir mallet to take with us for cracking them, and was adamant that if we were still in town in the morning, that we return for a couple of welcome bags that she would go get from the chamber of commerce.  While we were sitting there waiting for our pizza, there was a loud bang that was probably a car backfiring, but might have been a gunshot.  The owners son and his friends were sure that it was a gunshot (although Riley and I were skeptical), so the police were called.  A sergeant responded and took everyone's statements and then asked us about our trip.  Before too long his lieutenant who was obviously on his day off, judging by the way he was dressed, showed up, not to look into the bang, but to talk with us about our travels.  It seems that Sergeant Taylor called him to let him know about the two guys who had biked from California.  The lieutenant is an avid cyclist who told us that he would love to ride coast to coast someday and he wanted to meet us and see our bikes.  It was indeed a very warm welcome that we enjoyed in Maryland!

We are now camped at Jane's Island State Park and there is wifi by the park store, so I'll stop now, take a stroll on over there, get this posted and then hit the showers.  Good Night.

Update: The wifi that was available at the campground required a password, but the ranger neglected to tell us what it was, so this update is now yesterday's news.

Buzzard Point Marina

July 28, 2012
Greetings from Buzzard Point Marina, near Reedville VA.
Well a week has slipped by without any update, or even any typing at all.  A quick check of my last full post shows that we were in Palmyra, after having spent 2 lazy days in Charlottesville.  We left Palmyra and headed off route for an REI store in Richmond, where we were well cared for.  As I have told you in the past, the battery packs that came with our solar panels were somewhat finnicky, and they had ultimately convinced us that neither was really working properly at all.  The great thing about REI is that in addition to having very good quality and prices on all sorts of ourdoor gear, they have a lifetime satisfaction guarantee!  If you ever decide that you don't like the gear, just take it back, so we did.  After looking me up in their database, they cheerfully exchanged not only the battery packs, but the panels as well, because I had purchased them as a package.  Hey, the new packages even included solar powered flashlights, which only one of my purchases had, but was lost sometime in the first week of the trip.
But the best, unexpected thing about our REI visit was Rob, and ultimately his friend Tim Hendron.  Rob asked where we were planning to get to that evening and I told him Mechanicsville.  Rob twisted his face in thought, trying to think of a place to camp anywhere in the general area, but he drew a blank.  That was not too surprising, as the route maps didn't indicate any places to camp either, and they have proven to be pretty thorough in that regard.  So Rob said that he had a friend who lived in Mechanicsville, very close he believed, to the ACA route.  He called said friend (Tim) who told him to send us on over and that we were welcome to camp out in the backyard.  As it turned out, Mechanicsville was a bit ambitious, but we made it nontheless, and I called Tim from his own backyard to tell him that we had arrived.  Tim and his wife Laura were very hospitable, allowing us to shower as well as camp.  Tim also brought out a box fan to blow some air through the tent, as it was indeed a very muggy night.  In the morning, there were 2 slices of cherry pie set out for us.  Another act of kindness from complete strangers, that continued to make the trip more memorable and easier for us.
After Riley wolfed down the pie (cherries rank even lower than hummus for my picky palate) we set out for Williamsburg, which is very near the end of the official route, and also happens to be where my cousins Mary and Christine live.  Mary was gracious enough to host us for 4 nights, although she did have a couple of chores lined up - moving furniture and hanging curtains - so she did receive something in return, but still we got the better end of that deal.  Mary had a full-blown, Thanksgiving style turkey dinner for us when we arrived!  During the visit I also got to spend some good time with cousin Christine, her youngest two children Renee (who became a facebook friend!) and Paul, who is Riley's age and has grand plans to take Hollywood by storm, and her husband Rick.  Rick is a doctor, and unfortunately, I didn't see him after the tick was discovered, but he did give me the established protocol by way of telephone.  Mary and Christine's dad, my uncle Bob was in town and I had my best visit ever with him.
The day after arriving, we planned to ride to Yorktown, to get to the official end of the Transamerica route.  We got a late start, meaning something like 4:00 pm, and by the time we got into Williamsburg proper, we started to get a few raindrops on us.  I looked around and saw a wall of very black clouds racing along in the same direction that we were traveling and a little faster, so I knew that we were in for a serious downpour very soon.  We raced into Colonial Williamsburg and got under cover just about 2 minutes before the clouds opened up, and let loose with the most torrential rain that I have ever experienced.  It definitely would not have been safe to be on the road at that time, as drivers' visibility would have been seriously impaired.  The deluge lasted about 10 minutes before easing off to a moderate rain.  The ironic thing is that because we had anticipated a short afternoon ride, we left our panniers, which included our rain gear, at Mary's house, otherwise we may have ridden in the moderate rain.  About an hour later another, even stronger downpour let loose.  About 15 minutes after that, the rain stopped entirely and we rode back to Mary's, dry and cool.  On Wednesday we started out earlier and did indeed get to Yorktown.  The round trip turned out to be about 45 miles, so it is probably good that we got rained out on Tuesday.  As we were nearing Yorktown, we met a fellow named Justus, who will probably be the last tourist with whom we crossed paths on the trip.  Justus is planning to take the same route that we did in reverse - Yorktown to San Francisco, and was just about 7 miles into his trip.  It was nice to be able to stop and talk to someone else riding the Transam, as we hadn't seen another tourist in quite some time.
I think that after we realized that we had some time to kill, we both got lazy in our minds, hence the extra days in Charlottesville and 4 nights at Mary's, which was at least 1 or 2 more than I had originally anticipated.  By the time that we left Mary's place on Friday, we had used up most of our extra days, so we decided to revert back to plan A, which is to get across the Chesapeake Bay and ride up the Delmarva Peninsula to arrive in Delaware.  Looking at the maps, I saw that there is a ferry that runs between Reedville VA and Chrisfield Maryland, so that is our route, rather than getting ourselves across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, which would also invole another bridge or two that are interstate highways.
We rolled out of Williamsburg on Friday, back to Yorktown and across the Coleman Bridge, which is US 17.  The ride from the north end of the bridge to Gloucester VA was perhaps the most frightening road that I have ever ridden a bicycle on.  Most of the way, there is very little shoulder and the drivers in that part of Virginia are the worst!  Highway 17 is a very busy road and the drivers gave us very little clearance, even when there were two north-bound lanes.  Probably half of the vehicles passed within 3 or 4 feet of us, and a few came within a foot, or at least that's what it seemed like as they flew by at 60 MPH or more.  On the way to Gloucester, we finally did get caught in some rain while we were on the road.  We got off the road and waited it out in the woods next to the highway.  Fortunately the rain didn't last very long, but we donned out rain jackets and did get to ride in them for the last 3 or 4 miles into Gloucester, where we opted to get a room for the night.  At the local Walmart I met a very nice couple who live in a nearby town, but are originally from Czechslovakia.  They were considering doing a cross country tour themselves, so had several questions.  They also invited us to stay at their place that evening, but understood that we probably weren't planning to go that far, as it was already nearing nightfall.
And that brings us to today.  We knew that we only had 50 miles to ride, so we didn't check out and hit the road until noon.  When we did get going it was hot and humid once again, with the temperature between 95 and 100, but we were ready to make a real go of it, and we arrived at our destination with an average speed of better than 15 MPH, which is pretty good for loaded bikes.  Aside from the heat and humidity, this part of Virginia is very beautiful.  The place where we are catching the ferry is basically a little fishing village, with all of the charm that you might imagine.  Our ferry doesn't go directly across the bay, but will be dropping us off on a little island called Tangiers, where we will have a few hours to kill before catching another ferry to Chrisville.  Who knows, we might find that we like Tangiers and stay over night, but that is not currently the plan.
That's about all the news that's fit to report.  I tried to pitch the idea of trading our bikes for a boat, then we could get home via the deep blue sea, but the locals were having none of it.  They were, however, good enough to tell me the password to the marina wifi, so I hope to post this tonight.  Oh, I called our Australian friend Denis this evening. He was back home. He had saddle sores that just wouldn't let up and forced him to call it quits in St. Louis.
Dale

Greetings From Buzzard Point Marina

Here are some of the local folks engaging in a Chesapeake Bay ritual.

Local Wildlife

Here's Dale, feeding some of the local fauna, or at least playing host to the critter.  It is particularly perturbing that this guy got a free lift for quite a few miles!

Waiting For Darkness

Greetings from my cousin Christine Samaha's house. This post was written a couple of days ago. I should have all the very latest, but you'll have to wait for a few juicy details. Here's the post:

Waiting For Darkness to Fall

We left off on Wednesday morning and it is now Saturday afternoon.  Where does the time go?  I'm writing this from a picnic table in Palmyra Virginia where we have decided to stop for the night.  I will go through a quick rundown of days and places, before waxing philosophical.

By the time we had finished our cave tour and taken time to gather our thoughts on Tuesday, it was already past 4:00, so we made a relatively short drive from Mammoth Cave to My Old Kentucky Home State Park, where we camped for the night.  That evening I called my cousin Tom, who lives in Dayton Ohio, and invited Riley and I for dinner, showers and beds on Wednesday evening.  Hey, anyone who asks for a visit ought to get a visit, if it's at all possible.  So on Wednesday we drove through Louisville where we went to 3 different bike shops before emerging victorious with the right seat post.  Then it was through Cincinnati and on to Dayton.  I actually lived in Dayton for a year, when I was in first grade, so I drove by the house where we lived and gave Riley the added thrill of showing him Orchard Park Elementary School, where I attended most of my first grade year.  Tom and his lovely wife Nancy were very hospitable, but then who wouldn't be when you're entertaining your favorite cousin?  We had some laughs, caught up on old times and made a few phone calls to other cousins, aunts and siblings.  On my dad's side of the family, there were 32 first cousins.  Needless to say, I don't keep in touch with all of them.  In fact, I actually keep in touch with just a few, but Tom is at the top of that list, so it was good to see him in person once again.

While I was at Tom's house, I received a message from my very dear friend Evelyn Fulcher, saying that Cincinnati was not very far away (from them).  Hey, that sounds like a request for a visit to me!  Jim Fulcher is truly one of the people who has had the most impact on my life.  We met when I first attended a Soul Talk in his home on Granite Road, San Marcos, CA.  Jim was a beekeeper at the time and somehow he had the crazy idea that I would have a good time if I went out and worked bees with him.  It is thanks to him that I can say that I have probably been stung 20,00o times.  Actually working bees with Jim was a lot like this trip, except that I hadn't dreamt about it for year.  It was a lot of very hard (and at times even unpleasant) work, liberally punctuated by some of the best memories I could hope to have, working alongside someone who I love deeply.  It is fitting that I would get a chance to see Jim & Evelyn (she now goes by Lyn, but I knew her long before that).  In Denver we paid a visit to Tony Chukes, who pontificated at my wedding, and in Cincinnati, we got to see Jim, who did the actual, legal officiating.  Our visit with the Fulchers was a short one over a cup of coffee at Starbucks and we spent the remainder of the day driving to Charlottesville Virginia.

I must admit that at times I wonder why in the world the Adventure Cycling Association picked the routes that they did.  It seems that they made every effort to pick the roads least travelled all the way across the country.  But then I think about the view that you get while driving along an interstate highway - any interstate highway.  The views are pretty generic, and it seems like you don't really see very much.  One thing that we did finally see while driving to Charlottesville was rain and lots of it.  That was Thursday, and we have seen some rain on both Friday and Saturday as well, but it really came down while we were driving on Thursday.  We arrived in Charlottesville around dusk on Thursday and made our way to the South Street Brewery.  We had been there once before on a family vacation about 6 years ago.  We liked it then, and we liked it this time as well, but this time, I think that I liked it even more.

A few thoughts on beer.  Bicycle tourists drink beer.  If you were to read some of the blogs written by other tourists you will often find beer being prominently mentioned if the writer discusses the cuisine at all.  We don't necessarily drink a lot of beer, but it does seem to be a dietary staple.  Rich in carbohydrates and taste, what's not to like?  From the time that we left Fallon Nevada until we arrived in Charlottesville, there have been basically 5 selections to choose from:  Busch LIte, Coors Lite, Bud Lite, Busch and Bud. It seems that most of middle America prefers lousy beer!  So the South Street Brewery was an oasis and after having such a lousy selection for a month or more, it was refreshing to actually drink a good beer, on tap no less!

Now is the time for waxing philosophical.  We will be driving home from Newark Delaware, where my lovely wife grew up.  With the passing of my mother-in-law, about 16 months ago, there has been a relatively new car sitting in the garage with no one to drive it.  That was not the reason t=for the trip, not really even a factor, but it did seem to make sense rather than flying home after getting to the Atlantic, to drive the car back to California so that it can be put to good use.

When I go on a vacation, my normal mode of operation is to just take things one day at a time.  When it was backpacking, there was no set objective for each day, we would hike until we felt like stopping for the night.  If it's a sight seeing trip, I don't make a list of sights to check off.  If I am enjoying the first thing, I might just as well spend the whole day there and skip the rest.  It just doesn't seem to be very relaxing to have to have a schedule to stick to.  And so it has been with this trip.  Well, I learned somewhat early on that this trip is no vacation, but I failed to then try to establish an itinerary to stick to.  What does all of this have to do with today?  Well, only after arriving in Charlottesville did it occur to me that Corky and her father are currently in Delaware and using said car.  It won't do us any good to show up too early because the car won't be available to drive home until they are done using it and about ready to leave town themselves.  I confirmed the dates and it seems like we could have pedaled the whole distance through Kentucky, even seeing Mammoth Cave, and still arrived in time.  Now I can't help but feeling a little remorse for having rented the Budget Truck.  I cheated, or at least compromised more than I needed to, and now we have some time to kill.  But all is not lost.  With that extra time, maybe we will not cross the Chesapeake Bay by way of the bridge-tunnel, but rather go inland, ride to Washington D.C. an spend a few days at the Smithsonian, the Mint, and various other tourist attractions.  Hey, it's still and adventure, and should turn out well, but the remorse is there in the back of my head just the same.

Well, that's about all for now.  We spent an extra day being lazy in Charlottesville and only rode about 25 miles today.  Once again, a few days off has made us soft, plus it's harder to get motivated to jump out of a (motel) bed and hit the road, when the roads are wet from overnight rain, and the sky is grey and threatening to rain some more.  One neat thing happened on our extra day in Charlottesville, which incidentally is the home to the University of Virginia.  We were pulled over by the side of the road on our bikes, while I was checking directions.  A man struck up a conversation with Riley, asking about our trip.  When I was free, I said hello and told him that we were going to see some cousins in Williamsburg.  He asked what their names were and when I said Samaha, he ask, "Rick Samaha?"  I told him, yes, Rick is married to my cousin Christine.  It turns out that he went to school with Rick and was good friends, although they hadn't been in touch for a while.  So, it is still a small world after all!

My Cousin Tom Considers Joining The Ride!

Tom has a fine rig there.

Cave Recap

It is now Wednesday July 18, 08:38 eastern daylight time.  We are currently camped at My Old Kentucky Home State Park in Bardstown Kentucky.  This is the place where Stephen Foster was when he wrote My Old Kentucky Home. I don't know if he was living here or had just happened to be here, or what. The informative part of the park is closed, so we'll just have to save that little mystery for the next time that I'm in the area. There really isn't very much to say about today just yet, so let's roll the clock back about 24 hours, shall we?

We camped in the national park campground on Monday night and although we were back on the ground after about a 5 day hiatus, we both agreed that it was a very peaceful and restful night, in spite of some tossing and turning.  That's probably because there was no traffic noise.  The bugs, however, were very loud - possibly the loudest cacophony of bugs that I have ever experienced - but they belonged and somehow added to the tranquility in spite of the din.

Yesterday's main event was, of course, our second cave tour.  This one was the Grand Avenue tour.  This tour went into the cave through a different entrance than the one we had been through the day before.  In fact the entrance that we used was completely artificial.  I can't adequately describe the interior of the cave for you, except to say that it is huge.  It's not that the passageways or rooms are all so very enormous, although some of them are rather large, but the cave has over 400 miles of mapped passageways and tunnels!  The guide mentioned on more than one occasion that Mammoth Cave is the largest (or longest) cave in the world in that respect.  It seems to me that I read an article in National Geographic Magazine some time ago, perhaps five years, that was about a cave somewhere in Mexico or Central America that is even longer, I don't recall for certain, but suffice to say that Mammoth Cave is very, very large.

We spent 4 hours in the cave yesterday and walked more than 4 miles.  We saw less than 1% of the cave.  Our trails yesterday ranged from level, cement sidewalk to sloped, hard-packed dirt & rock aggregate.  When the inclines got too steep, we walked on stairs.  And the entire length of our walk was illuminated by electric lights; dim, but quite adequate to stay on the well maintained paths.  The cave began to be explored in earnest about 200 years ago.  One name that was frequently mentioned was Stephen Bishop.  Bishop was a slave who did more exploration and mapping of the cave than any other individual, and apparently he did much of his exploring alone.  As we were walking through the cave at a moderate stroll, I was impressed by how extensive the passages are, and by how much effort it must have been to explore and map these passages in pitch darkness with the light of just a single flame from a lamp burning chicken fat, all the while having to climb over rocks and boulders.  Being able to walk literally miles through the cave was impressive.  Knowing that there were men like Stephen Bishop and others, who spent years clambering through the darkness to find and map its deepest recesses made it all the more impressive.

Mammoth Cave was a side trip well worth the taking even if it meant cheating on the cycling aspect of the journey. Today it's on Ohio so that my cousin Tom H and his lovely wife Nancy may have a visit from their favorite cousin and his son. We really are too kind - just kidding. But first, it's off to a bike shop in Louisville in search of an offset seatpost.

Mammoth Cave Musings

These proved to be the perfect spelunking shoes.  Note the tri-tone skin; it's a safety feature.

ZOOM!

Here we are again, about 4 days behind schedule, with lots to write about.  July 16 was one of our toughest and best days.  We woke up in the safe confines of the First United Methodist Church building in Marion.  The sky was cloudy and it seemed as if it would rain.  Neither one of us was feeling very gung-ho about hitting the road, and as we were talking, it seemed that we were both feeling a bit blue, sad, discouraged, depressed - call it what you will.  We finally got our butts out of the building, only to spend about an hour dealing with tire issues on Riley's bike and by the time we finally had all of that taken care of, we really weren't feeling very chipper, and it was 10 o'clock to boot!  

We got rolling, and slowly but surely, we got the cobwebs cleared and making progress, so that when we reached the town of Sebree, we were both feeling good and glad that we had worked through the funk that we were experiencing that morning.  The ride wasn't too long, about 45 miles or so, but long enough to feel like we had made some progress and overcome some difficulty in doing so.

In Sebree we found the Baptist church that hosted cyclists, and we opted to stay there.  The pastor and his wife were away on vacation, and apparently if that had not been the case, we would have been fed a home-cooked meal to go along with the free lodging!  Both of the churches that we've stayed at had log books for the cyclists to sign in.  In Marion, Brother Wayne told me that the price of admission was to sign the log and have our pictures taken to paste into it.  While thumbing through that log, it was a little surprising to see just how many of the people we had met along the way.  The log in Sebree seemed a little less complete.  We had met a guy that afternoon who told us about the place and that he had stayed there the previous night, but he hadn't written anything in the log...  The people who had written their thoughts in the log book all raved about the hospitality and wonderful cooking, so we missed that.  In the long run we did, however, feel very much at home and welcome, so much so that we decided to stay another day.

And that leads to the part of this post that I really don't want to write about. It is now mid-July and there is no denying that.  We are simply running out of time.  Prior to departing on this trip, whenever anyone asked me how long it would take, I said, "About two months, give or take."  That is in fact, an accurate answer.  What I hadn't fully realized is that, to ride cross country in 2 months, especially without the support of a sag wagon, a person is undertaking a full-time job for those 2 months.  It isn't really a sight-seeing trip, or a leisurely vacation; it is hard work, every day.  I'm not opposed to 2 months of hard work, but I think that I was caught a little bit off-guard, and I know that Riley certainly wasn't fully expecting the amount of work and exertion involved.

So, there we were on Saturday morning, in the basement of the First Baptist Church in Sebree Kentucky.  We needed to get to yet another bike shop because the used seat post that I began the trip with, is now a used-up and worn out seat post.  Owensboro ought to do the trick.  Hey Owensboro is off-route by several miles.  That's alright, it'll be easy to get to and easy to get back on route.  Where should we try to get to tonight?  When do we hit the Mammoth Cave Loop?  The loop is 85 miles and after returning to the route, we're only 8 miles down the road?  That means 78 miles extra riding to visit Mammoth Cave?  That's an entire day.  And when exactly do we fit in our visit to the cave?  Do we ride half a day, then visit the cave?  That's an entire day of riding, just to see that cave.  Hey, I remember visiting it when I was a kid.  It will be TOTALLY worth it!  But, even after we get to Virginia, it's another couple of days to Delaware.  And it is going to take a week to drive home from Delaware.  Can we possibly fit in a stop at Niagara Falls, or Mount Rushmore?  Can I visit my cousin Tom?

You might get the picture.  We are running out of time, and there is not much to look forward to other than long days of hard pedaling - at least that's how I was thinking and feeling on Saturday.  I got a message from Grant, a friend from my days at SDSU.  He told me that he was jealous, and wished that he could be riding across the country.  I'm jealous too.  I'm jealous of the people who have 3 or more months to do it in.  I'm jealous of those whom we have met who have the liberty to add, "And after I get to Oregon, I might ride down to San Diego."

I don't mean to rain on anybody's parade, nor do I want to seem ungrateful.  I am thankful that I have had this opportunity to spend with my son.  I'm grateful that I have had the chance to pursue an idea that I've had for so many years.  I'm very grateful that my wife, who is not at all into bicycling, has been willing to deny herself and her fears, and not put the kibosh on the trip.

When I got to thinking about Mammoth Cave, I really didn't want to have to sacrifice that little side trip for the sake of the mileage total.  We already scratched the Grand Canyon and Monument Valley because they were too many extra miles.  One of the first things that Riley said to me after he told me that he would commit to making the trip, was that he was looking forward to seeing the Grand Canyon.  By the time I was his age, I had been to probably 45 states and seen the Grand Canyon, Zion, Bryce Canyon, Mammoth Cave, and so many other National Parks and National Monuments.  There is a reason that we have set aside places like these as National Parks and Monuments, and that is because they are truly spectacular, worth saving and worth seeing.  Riley also talked about seeing Mount Rushmore, almost in the same breath as when he mentioned the Grand Canyon.  I don't want to be so rushed for time that we have to scratch so many wonderful things that are truly worth seeing, just so that we can crank out enough miles to get to the Atlantic Ocean by August whatever.

So Owensboro had a couple of things making it worth going a little out of our way to get to.  A bike shop (although they didn't have a seat post that would fill the bill) and truck rentals.  Yes, we have once again hit the road in a 10' box-truck, Budget this time, not UHaul.  We picked up the truck today (Monday July 16) in Owensboro, got on the bike route, and drove to Mammoth Cave.  We took the Historic Tour today, and will take the Grand Avenue Tour tomorrow morning.  It was very strange being on the tour today, because I distinctly remembered much of what we saw, even though I last saw it when I was 10 years old in 1968.  Riley very much enjoyed the tour and was excited about attending the evening amphitheater program.  As we were racing to get to Subway and back so that we could listen to the program, Riley said that he couldn't remember ever being so excited about learning something.

We will be driving to Charlottesville VA, and then continuing our pedaling form there.  We currently have logged over 1500 miles pedaling, and we should certainly finish with more than 2000 miles pedaled.  The trip isn't over yet, but it does feel like it is winding down, and I think that both of us are coming to terms with decisions that we have had to make.  I would love to have another chance to ride across the country, but I don't think that it would need to be a chance to redeem myself for not pedaling the whole way. I would love to pedal the whole way sometime, but if the cost is too high - meaning not being able to enjoy the journey - then it just would not be worth it.

Tunnel Hill Bike Trail

This is the Tunnel Hill Trail in Illinois.

We left off our story on Monday July 9, still at Aunt Carolyn's house, doing laundry and culling through the panniers to lighten the load.  Sometime in the early afternoon we took to the road and drove to Chester IL, which is just across the Mississippi River from MO.  I had mixed feelings about driving across the bridge - it seemed that that milestone should be ridden - but once I saw the actual deck on the bridge, I felt fine about passing up that opportunity.  The roadway was a very narrow 2 lanes with no pretense of a serviceable sidewalk; in a word precarious, maybe downright dangerous.  I'm sure that I would have been fine had I insisted on riding, but it really didn't matter.

Chester is the home of Popeye the Sailor, well the creator of Popeye came from here anyway.  The local chapter Fratenal Order of the Eagles has a cyclists bunkhouse built adjacent to the lodge, so that is where we were dropped off.  Monday is volleyball night at the lodge, and apparently draws players from all over the county, who come to participate in a volleyball league.  At first it seemed like we would have the bunkhouse to ourselves, but after a while, 4 westbound riders came along, so we had company for part of the evening as well as someone else's farts stinking the place up.  Hey, it was about a 10'x12' room with 6 guys sleeping in it; it's what we do!

We learned a lesson after the days off in and around Denver, that we got pretty soft after 3 days, so we expected it this time, and planned for an easy day on the 10th.  Boy are we smart.  Well, we would have stopped even sooner than we did, but I noticed that I had a broken spoke.  Not quite sure where or when it happened, but there it was, an the rear wheel.  I probably could have properly fixed it myself, but it would have been an ordeal and we were nearing Carbondale which, being a proper college town, had 3 proper bicycles shops all within a block of each other, so off to Carbondale it was.  We pulled into Phownix Bicycles and that's where we met Joe.  He fixed my wheel and then asked if we needed a place to stay.  Joe has done 2 cross country tours, one with panniers and riding LOTS, and once as a group leader for the MS ride.  That ride has lots of ridsers, 2 big sag wagons, no panniers for anyone, and the leaders alternate days of riding and driving the vans.  Joe was a terrific host.  Just hosting us makes him terrific.  He was also able to steer us to the first honest to goodness tasty pizza of our trip.

The 11th found us rising a little late, having Carbondale's best breakfast at Harbaugh's and generally hitting the road a little late.  We rode about 70 miles to Golconda, which is situated right on the banks of the Ohio River.  We pulled into town later than we like, sometime after 5:00, went into the local bar & grill to find something to eat, and the locals there informed us that the campground we had planned to go to was closed.  Just about that time, the thunder and lightning picked up significantly and then we had a significant downpour that lasted for perhaps 30 minutes before it began to taper off.  It was still raining just a little as we set up the tent, but more important, there was still a lot of lightning in the general area; we therefore, chose our campsite carefully, with the possibility of lightning in mind.  It was our turn to try our hands at being bridge trolls.  Unfortuantely, the bridge that we selected was a pedestrian bridge about 30 feet above our heads, so when we finally got a little foot traffic above us we couldn't scramble up quickly enough to eat anyone!

When we got up this morning, even though the temperature was probably not much above 70, everything was so wet from the dew that we broke a sweat just taking down the tent.  What we missed in the Ozarks was the constant up and down and up and down and up and down.  Well, we've got it here, along with humidity to go along with it.

We rode to Cave In Rock IL, where there used to be quite a thriving pirate industry, at least that's what we have been told.  Unfortunately, there is very little time to investigate the local history such as this.  We are on a time table, and we need to get to Delaware soon, so my knowledge of local piracy on the Ohio River will have to come by way of wikipedia.  There is no bridge at Cave In Rock, but there is a sweet little ferry that can accommodate perhaps 20 automobiles and even more bicycles, and better yet, there is no toll!

So here we are in beautiful Marion Kentucky.  At various places along the route there are churches that open their doors and allow cyclists to sleep inside, free of charge.  It seems that more often than not, those churches are of the United Methodist variety.  Riley & I have yet to take advantage of this hospitality, but we will be doing so tonight.  When we got to town, Riley went to the library while I investigated our lodging arrangements.  The route map didn't say anything about this particular church, but I spotted a small sign on the way into town.  The route map does say that camping is allowed at the city park, so I wanted to figure out whether we should head to the park or to the church.  My primary criteria was the availability of showers.  I went first to the church and met the janitor Robert.  Robert gave me all the info, including the fact that there were indeed showers (and sofas to sleep on) and that was all I needed to hear.  Besides, the park was another half-mile out of our way, and every little bit counts!

That's about all of the news that's fit to report.  It is now 6:20, and it looks like it will rain again this evening - at least to the same extent that it did last night, so all the more reason to choose indoors rather than out!  It's about a 2 block walk from the Italian cafe where we are dining back to the church, so it's time to get moving, before we're forced to sing the B.J. Thomas classic from the Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid soundtrack.  You know the one.

Dale

Across the Mighty Mississippi.

The radio stations start with W.  Weird ain't it?

Aunt Carolyn & Riley

Don't Panic, This Is a Safety Drill!

July 8
I'm sitting here writing on the morning of the 9th.  Hey, I'm almost caught up on the blog, and I'm back to first person!

July 8 was a terrifc day, but let's back up just a little.  There wasn't very much rain on the 7th,  but the clouds lingered just enough to cool things just a bit and we can no longer claim to have seen no rain (remember the rain that we did experience previously came at night and we neither felt nor saw it).  The weather forecast for the 8th was identical to that of the 7th - hot with a chance of thundershowers - and the day dawned and seemed a carbon copy as well.

Aunt Carolyn wanted so very much to take us canoeing, so the day seemed, and was, as it turned out, perfect for the occassion.  We were all up at the crack of 9:30 and ready to roll out of the house at least a half hour before the clock struck noon!  How's that for leisure?  It took about an hour and a half to get to Akers Ferry, where we had decided to embark on our journey.  In the Ozark National Scenic Riverways there are actually several choices of routes and lengths of floats that you can take.  Almost all of the routes are are fairly calm, the type that can truly be classified as drifting down a lazy river.  Because the rivers are the heart of a national park, the regulations prohibit the removal of downed trees although rumor (and common sense) has it that the canoe operators will sometimes assist mother nature as she works to shift trees and prevent the river from becoming impassable.  So, even though the rivers are fairly tame, there are plenty of snags and submerged trees to be on the lookout for.

The arrangement for our float was Dale & Aunt C in a canoe and Riley in a kayak.  It's a good thing that Aunty C had an experienced river tourer in her canoe.  Yes, I do have 1.5 credits in River Touring from Palomar College!  Well, we were drifting merrily along into our second hour and second beer when I sensed that all of the pieces were in just the right place for a safety drill.  The current was sweeping strongly across the channel, right into a downed tree.  Here we go, wait for it, wait for it, contact; tip; water over the gunwale; all the way over.  Yes a perfect capsizing!  "Don't lose your paddle."  "Hey Riley, grab the cooler and those beer cans."

The canoe was beautifully wedged under the tree.  There was a convenient gravel bar for recovery.  Riley was ahead and able to recover the floating debris.  I swear that it was a safety drill.  I planned it.  No kidding.  We were hot and the dip in the drink cooled us off.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

A little farther down the river we were joined by a dog.  He was some sort of hunting dog, maybe a setter-wiemeraner mix.  Just as we passed a group of people who had pulled up on a gravel bar to fish, the dog joined us in a race to see who could get down the river the fastest.  He was a very good swimmer and in great shape.  At first he was chasing Riley in the kayak, just as a dog might chase a car or someone on a bicycle.  Then he seemed to become more interested in swimming in front of the canoe.  We veered to the right, he veered to the right, we turned left, he turned left.  He kept this up for a mile or more until we finally got ahead of him and he lost interest.  Then he just wandered off, with very little apparent concern as to where he was or where he should be.

Next stop was Cave Spring.  You could learn more about it by looking on wikipedia than I could tell you, so I'll let you do that, but I will say that it is a great stop on a hot day, and very popular.  There were perhaps 15 - 20 people stopped at the cave when we arrived.  There were also clouds growing overhead; actually they had been accumulating for a little while, but seemed to be well behind us until we stopped at the cave.  We were there for about 10-15 minutes and during the course of that time, the clouds thickened and began to thunder.  We once again headed downstream, passing lots of people.  As the thunder grew louder and the clouds grew thicker, Auntie C's determination to get downstream grew more purposeful.

It wasn't long before the clouds opened up into a torrential downpour.  There was visible lightning and of course, thunder, but it wasn't so close to us at the moment to become a huge safety concern.  Still, Auntie C and I were paddling away to get to Pulltite, which is where we got off the river.  We were well ahead of all the people we had passed and that included Riley, whom we hadn't seen in at least 15 or 20 minutes, so we pulled up onto a gravel bar in the puring rain, to await his arrival.  After sitting there for 5 minutes or more, we saw the two yellow blades of a kayak paddle, then we began hearing a voice.  It sounded a bit like he was yelling, but because of the rain we could not distinguish exactly what we were hearing.  As he got closer, the sound became clearer and clearer until it was obvious that Riley was casually paddling downstream, in a heavy downpour, singing The Banana Boat Song.  Day-O, Day-O, Daylight comes and me wanna go home! Harry Belafonte would have been proud.

When we finally arrived at Pulltite, the rain had not let up at all, and we were completely drenched but comfortable because the ambient temperature was still in the 70's or 80's and we had been paddling.  Once we stopped paddling we began to get cold.  Auntie C climbed aboard the ancient schoolbus that was to be used to shuttle us back to Akers Ferry and immediately asked, "Does anyone have a martini?"  When I got on the bus, I mentioned to either Riley or Aunt Carolyn, that the last time I was on a bus of that vintage, I was working as a carney.  One of the other passengers instantly locked onto that comment and showed a great deal of curiousity.  When he told his girlfriend that Riley and I had temped as carnies this summer, she was even more curious and conversational about the topic.  She reccommended that we all read the book Water For Elephants.

When we got back to Akers Ferry, we actually got to turn on the heat in the truck!  We stopped in Eminence for dinner and the restaurant actually had a bar, so of course Carolyn and Dale ordered martinis.  This created quite a stir.  The bartender personally came over to ask what kind of martinis we wanted.  I know nothing at all about martinis, except that I don't want ice in it, so I defered all other questions to Aunt Carolyn, who said that we wanted traditional, dry, gin martinis.  As we were leaving the restaurant, the bartender, a man of about 50, was sitting out on the balcony.  He called to us and asked, "How were the martinis?"  We told him that they were fine, and that if we were back in town, we would come in for another.  I honestly think that he had never made a martini before and that he looked it up in the recipe book before coming over in the first place to ask us how we wanted them.  The martinis were fine.  Missouri is the land of light beer.  Maybe a shot of something - chased with a light beer.

That's about all the news that is fit to report.  I'm now up to date, except for this morning (the 9th), but I have just slept past 9:00, eaten, done a little laundry and typed this blog entry.  Now I'm current up to the last instant!

Dale

Our Hero Laurie

I'm sorry, but Laurie's last name escapes me, although I want to say Saxon.  Notice that she and our very first pictured hero Alan Smith, both root for the Cowboys and not the Sooners.  Good taste, and my preference as well, but that's q long story.

Fact or Crap?

Wow, you just blink your eyes and 3 days get by you.  When we last left off, our heroes had just enjoyed a day off in Chanute Kansas.  As he had threatened to do, the author lied down to go to sleep just as darkness was establishing its grasp on the remainder of the day, while Riley, Kym and Tim represented the touring cyclist's community by watching the fireworks extravaganza.

A few quick facts:
Pittsburgh Pennsylvania is spelled with an h.  Many (or most) of the others are missing it.
The only rain that D&R had seen prior to July 7, was a tiny amount in the middle of the night somewhere in Kansas. This brief shower lasted for perhaps 15 minutes.
July 5, A ride from Chanute to Pittsburg Kansas, a distance of about 65 miles.
July 6, Pittsburg Kansas to Sprinfield Missouri.  Distance of about 95 miles - Dale & Riley pedaled about 75.
July 7, saw Riley & Dale (D&R) swimming in the Jack's Ford River for about 2 hours. They then took a Sunday drive on Saturday.  Hey, now we are getting ahead of ourselves.

JULY 5
On the 5th, Riley's bike was once again refusing to shift to the biggest chainring and Dale's feet had been killing him for days.  Fortunately, Pittsburg boasts a population  of about 20,000 and more importantly, a proper bike shop.  Riley, Kym & Dale rolled into town at about 1:30 and quickly found the bike shop, Tailwind Cyclists.  The owner is a guy named Roger who seemed very knowledgeable, and may have done some wrenching for Greg LeMond at some point, based on an autographed jersey near the rear of the shop.  Arrangements were made to return at 4:00 with the bike, to have it worked on.

In the interim, Kym, as is her custom, made a beeline to the city library right after lunch while Dale & Riley found a laundromat where they also made the acquaintance of 3 west-bound cyclists from New York: Bryan, Oliver and Doug.  This trio said that they were expecting 2 more lads (from D.C.) whom they had met about a week or two earlier, and had been traveling with since then in a loose confederation, similar to our heroes'.  

Riley was left at the laundromat to do the wash and exchange reconnoissance intelligence with the new-found colleagues, while Dale returned to the bike shop aboard Riley's mount.  Roger concurred with the assessment that the chainline was all wrong due to the bottom bracket being too wide.  That was why the derailleur had so much trouble getting to the top ring.  To make a long story short, the only available fix was a new crankset & bb.  As for shoes, Dale was not so fortunate.  It ain't easy finding riding shoes for a guy with a size 14 foot (that's about a 49 or 50 in Euro sizing, which is the standard for cycling gear).  Tim was spotted riding past the bike shop at about 5:30.  He also encountered the west-bounders and reported that he was continuing on to Golden City, some 30+ miles to the east. 

After about 2 hours in the bicycle shop Dale returned to the laundry to fetch Riley and his own bike.  On the way he met another west-bound rider, a fellow named Louie, and also learned that a plan had been hatched to barbeque burgers in the city park/cyclist campground.  A good time was had by all while sharing burgers and stories of the road.  One of the later arrivals, a young man named Brent was traveling without the actual route maps (as they are a bit pricey), but rather, just the GPS coordinates loaded into his phone, so Dale gave him all of his Trans-Am maps that he and Riley had already traversed.  Brent promised to mail them to Dale's home, or to swear some other similarly needy cyclist to the same oath before passing them along to be reused yet again.  This idea had occurred to Dale a week earlier, just about 2 minutes after John and his 2 daughters had ridden off to the west...

Some of the west-bound boys were talking about rising at 3:00 to hit the road, so goodbyes and good nights were said before retiring for the evening.

JULY 6
As dawn broke on the 6th, our heroes awoke to the sight of the last west-bound tail lights heading out into the still dark morn.  As for plans for the day, both Dale & Riley's and Kym's plans were a bit uncertain.  Dale & Riley planned to go to at least Ash Grove - a distance of about 70 miles - before determining whether to then head off-route to the city of Springfield Missouri in search of shoes.  Kym said that she was bound for Walnut Grove which is still on-route and about 10 miles past Ash Grove.  So, it seemed that the terrific trio may be a dynamic duo once again.  About 40 miles into the ride, the decision was made.  The dogs were howling and shoes were deemed to be more of a requirement than a desire.

One requisite stop for cyclists on this section of the route is Cooky's Cafe in Golden City.  The food was good but not remarkable, however the pie (which is what the cyclists talk about anyway) was excellent and just two bucks a slice!  It's pretty hard to make Cooky's a quick stop, at least it was on this day.  There were two other groups of west-bounders, and how could anyone not take the time to chat it up a bit unless both parties are on the road, rolling in opposite directions?  Riley and Dale talked with another father-son team who were riding west, as well as a family of 6 who were traveling west aboard 3 tandems.  This family was traveling with another six-pack, also aboard 3 tandems.

While in Kansas, D&R had been out pedaling in temperatures exceeding 110 degrees for 3 or 4 consecutive days, but they had a stiff crosswind to cool them, and the humidity was low.  Here in Missouri, although the actual temperature may have been almost 10 degrees cooler, the lack of wind and the additional humidity made it even more uncomfortable for riding.  Plus just about as soon as you hit the border between Kansas and Missouri, the landscape and topography changes noticeably.  Our boys had arrived in the Ozark's.  Up and down, and up and down, and up and down...  It's no wonder that the most popular sports around are hunting and fishing; that's because there is no place that is both flat enough and large enough to play a game of football or baseball.  Even volleyball might be a stretch!

So there they were, drenched with sweat, chugging away up another short but very steep hill, in their efforts to yet again get to a bike shop before closing time, in a city that is perhaps just out of reach for the allotted time...  Now, one thing to bear in mind is that Dale was born in Detroit, the city from whence so many classic musical acts emerged, not the least of which was The Temptations.  And of all the hits that The Temptations had, who could possibly forget Ain't Too Proud To Beg?  The Rolling Stones certainly didn't forget it; they had a rather successful cover version!  Neither did Dale forget his roots.  So when that next pickup truck came bounding over the hill behind them, out went the thumbs, on went the brakes, and Dale & Riley had a ride and a new hero, just like that!

The new hero was Laurie.  She gave the boys a lift into Everton, which was a distance of about 5 miles.  She told them that she had to go and get a different truck and trailer because she needed to go to Springfield to pick up mulch for the family business.  Then she added, "If I see you on the road after I get the other truck, I'll give you a lift into Springfield."

After a much needed cool off break the boys rode on to Ash Grove and just as they were arriving there, Dale heard a horn honk, turned around and lo and behold, there was Laurie, as good as her word!  A half an hour later and there they were in Springfield, riding to Sunshine Cyclists, where they found every bicycle part that they were looking for at that time, and then some.

Let us take a moment to tie up a few loose ends and introduce a new character onto the scene.  While riding to Springfield, Laurie reported that she had seen a single female cyclist leaving just as she was leaving Everton.  This must have been Kym, meaning that Dale & Riley must have passed her at or near Everton.  Kym is traveling without a cell phone, so there is no way for D&R to contact her directly.  When they return to the official route, they are likely to be in the same general area, so they may or may see her again.  Once they return to the route, D&R will be able to ask other cyclists about any possible sightings.  The same holds true for Tim.  He called and left a voice mail while D&R were in Springfield.  Our boys were ahead of him and may be in the same area upon returning to route.

The new character to introduce is Dale's Aunt Carolyn.  She has been living in Mountain View Missouri for about 8 years.  She was one of the earliest supporters of the trip, and became even more enthusiastic when she was informed that a visist from her favorite nephew and grand-nephew was highly probable because the route ran within about 15 miles of Mountain View.  Aunt Carolyn has been a faithful reader of this blog, loves entertaining, and made a point to let our heroes know that she does in fact have an "eligible" vehicle, should they need assistance in getting to her home.  Well, Aunt Carolyn also needed some new shoes for an upcoming trip abroad, and didn't have in mind the variety of footwear that may be found at the local farm supply store, so she opted to make a trip into Springfield for the additional variety that may be found in the retail outlets there.  The reader may feel free to provide the details for the missing blanks...

JULY 7
Decadence.  Utter decadence.  Sleeping in past 8:30.  Aunt Carolyn makes a pretty mean bacon and eggs, and our boys enjoyed every last morsel.  The heat was still stifling, so Aunty C took the boys to a favorite swimming hole on the Jack's Fork.  The Jack's Fork is one of the rivers in the Ozark National Scenic Riverways.  Besides being beautiful to look at and running through some truly spectacular scenery, the water is very clear because so much of the water in the river at this time of year is spring fed.

Well, somebody must be living right.  At the swimming hole is a rock that can be climbed for a jump of 10 feet or so into the river.  Riley made the climb wearing his new, perscription RayBan Wayfarers.  Aunty C hollered up to him something about his glasses and he thought it would be a good idea to toss them to her before jumping.  Bad Idea.  The toss was errant and Wayfarers do not float.  Aunty C was in about 15 feet of water at the time.  Things at this point are looking pretty grim.  Riley spotted a young man with a mask and snorkel and was able to borrow them. After a dive or two, Riley was not able to reach the bottom and spend any time looking, so he asked Dale to try, which he did.  Dale was able to reach the bottom and look for just a bit, but he too, tired very quickly and surrendered after 4 or 5 attempts.  The young man who loaned Riley the mask was aware that Riley's glasses were the object of the search, so he asked where they were believed to have gone down.  The fellow then donned his mask and dove.  After a brief time he broke the surface, held up the lost RayBans, and asked, "Do they look like these?"  A jubilant Riley, Dale and Carolyn hailed this gentleman as a hero and declared a local holiday in his honor.  The odd thing is that they never did get his name, although he did have the name CRAIG tattooed across his back. It was just about this time that a little afternoon rain began falling. It wasn't much, but it was rain, and in the daytime too.

After a good, long swim, our trio took the LONG way home, including crossing the Current River on Aker's Ferry, a very old current powered ferry.  Along the way they saw signs saying SHARE THE ROAD with the image of a bicycle and they realized that they were driving along the transamerica bicycle route.  Behold, Dale & Riley have not gotten lost, they have just taken a little time out from the strenuous activitiy of pedaling up and down, and up and down, and up and down in the blistering sun.  They had once again been blessed by being able to utilize the locally available resources to add a twist and thereby some slight variety, to their summer adventure.

The trio of D&R and Aunty C finished out the day by playing a game of Fact or Crap.  Now it's your turn.  Sticking out a thumb. Making a call. Catching a ride.  These are permitable actions that sometimes make a Trans-America bike ride even better.  Is this a fact, or is it crap?  You make the call. 

Pittsburg Crew

Here is the crew from Pittsburg.

Brent, Bryan, Oliver, Doug, B-Ride, Riley, Kym & Louis.

Happy Birthday America!

Happy Birthday America!

The past few days have provided little to write about because they have been spent doing a lot of pedaling with fairly minimal human interaction.  The 2nd found us riding from Cassoday to Eureka Kansas.  The ride in to Cassoday on the 1st was hot and about 90 miles.  We were both very tired when we arrived, and feeling the need for a rest day.  Well, Cassoday was certainly not the location where we wanted to spend a day off.  Cassoday has one, very small, general store and a rather rustic park with no serviceable bathrooms.  There is an area about a block long that seemed to have comprised a small main street, but there were no businesses open.

Eureka to Cassoday was only about 40 miles, but the first 17 were into a fairly stiff headwind, which somehow seemed to shift just as we turned to the east.  As I mentioned a while ago, riding into the wind is rather demoralizing, and we arrived in Eureka tired and cranky.  To top things off, upon our arrival, Riley couldn't find his phone, so he was ready to throw in the towel right then and there, and was generally inconsolable.

Once again the hospitality of the people of Kansas came through - meaning a free shower and swim in the city pool, which I gladly partook of.  While I was swimming, Riley went off to sulk and generally be miserable.  When I got out of the pool I selected a spot to set up the tent, and eureka, there's the phone!  After the phone was found, Riley was willing to go swimming and he was then generally feeling much better.  We then went to the library and grocery store...

Owing to the nature of the route - Newton to Cassoday being about 40 miles, and Cassoday to Eureka about another 40, with nowhere really to stop and certainly not camp, in between, it was a reasonable bet that Kym would arrive in Eureka.  Sure enough, at about 5:30 she rolled in.  The pool manager stopped by our campsite and chatted for 20 or 30 minutes and invited us to stay in her yard, watch TV, etc, if we were going to take the day off on the 3rd (as Riley & I had determined to do).

I had lied down to go to sleep when, at about 9:00 another east-bound rider named Tim rolled on in.  I figured that I could stay up a while longer since I would have tomorrow off, so I got back up.  We were all chatting, the light faded, Tim was still covered with the sweat & grime of a 90 mile day, so the next thing you know, the four of us jumped the fence and went for an unauthorized after-hours swim.

Tim was talking about trying to get to Branson for the 4th.  We looked at maps, and soon had decided to ride on the 3rd and take off the 4th.  Chanute Kansas has a population of almost 10,000 and was about 65 miles forward, so off we went.

I'll spare you the details of a long, arduous day that included too many flats (my first since California), too many breaks, and just too much work in general for a day that I was looking forward to not riding at all.  By the time that we rolled into town at almost 3:30, I was fit to be tied!  We really shouldn't have stretched that out much past noon.

So here we are in Chanute as evening approaches on the 4th of July.  I began this posting in the morning, but will get it done and posted now, just before turning in for the night.  It has been a non-stop barrage of firecrackers all day long in Chantune.  I doubt that more that 10 or 15 seconds have gone by without the sound of them going off today.  Riley, Kym & I went to see the new Spiderman movie.  Kym then stayed and paid to watch Brave, but because we had already seen it in Denver, Riley & I went to a park for a short nap.  Now it's back to the campground area to get to sleep, which I intend to do regardless of the fact that the city fireworks display is over the lake that is here in the park.

I'm very tired and I know that this post is poorly written.  I would venture to say that it is the poorest of any blog entries to date, but I just don't have the energy to fix it.  I don't even plan to reread it for any reason at all.

I hope that everyone is enjoying a safe and happy 4th of July.  Happy Birthday!

Dale

The Soma Saga

Here she is, doing her thing at Fort Larned Kansas.

July 1

July 1

This is one of those days when I do not feel making the effort to write.  That is in part because I am so tired, and also because there is little to write about, which leads me to thinking about the very nature of the journey itself.

If, by some small chance, you are reading this blog, not because you know me, but because you are planning or contemplating your own coast to coast bicycle tour, then be forewarned: it is not an undertaking to be considered lightly. It is not a vacation or a holiday; it is a LOT of VERY hard work!  Now in all fairness, the tone of my statement could be altered based on a few factors.

The two biggest considerations are time, and your determination to pedal every inch of the way.  Another is the time of year that you'll be traveling, while your age is another factor to be considered. Let me get the age factor out of the way quickly. When I was about 30, I toured in New England and Nova Scotia. For the last 12 or more days of that tour, I had to average 100 miles per day just to get back to Boston in order to catch my flight back home. Granted, Nova Scotia in mid-September is not Colorado/Kansas in late June, but now, at age 54, my body does not easily work so hard for so long or recover as quickly. I was thinking that once we got to Kansas we would be able to up our daily mileage to about 80 without killing ourselves, but it's proving tougher than I anticipated.

If you are determined to pedal every inch of the way, then you will be having a lot of days like the one we had today.  The standard time that all of the self-contained riders get up in the morning is about an hour before first light - some time between 4:30 and  5:00.  How's that sound for a nice vacation?  The reason for this is to try to beat some of the heat and winds.  Pack up, and hit the road at first light.  There is an satisfaction that comes with riding a loaded bike 80 or 90 miles in a day, but that satisfaction comes at the end of the day as you're lying down to sleep.  It doesn't come as fun in the middle of the day when you're grinding up yet another hill, trying to hustle to your day's only sensible destination because it's the only town on the route, and has only 150 residents, so the little store is likely to close no later than 5:00, but really maybe only 4:00, in which case you'll be stuck with only water and the food that you have with you, which ain't much.

If you're doing the Trans-Am or the Western Express/Trans-Am, then you really should leave yourself 3 months, and that's just to get it done.  4 months will allow for enough shorter days or rest days to meet some of the people along the way.  Or you could decide that for you, riding every inch is not really the main objective, then you are free to have a day like the one we had yesterday.  We were still scrambling, but met some great people along the way.  Even still, I think that 3 months is minimum and 4 would be even better.

Hey, you might say, I'm going on an organized, supported tour.  Or, I'm part of a group that will have a sag wagon (support vehicle).  Good, I say.  Riding from coast to coast is still no small accomplishment, but at least 60% of the challenge and 50% of the physical effort will be gone for you.  I'm not saying that one is better than the other or trying to dissuade anyone from taking the ride that they want to, the way that they want to, just giving a few of my thoughts.

As for today, we set out from Nickerson with a destination of Cassoday Kansas, about 90 miles away.  Kim left first but we caught up with her in the little town of Hesston, at about the 35 mile mark.  Newton was the last town before Cassoday, but there were still more than 40 miles between the two.  I got to Cassoday at about 4:45 and Riley rolled in about 20 minutes behind me.  We ate, set up camp and still no Kim.  She finally called as I was beginning this entry.  She had been taken in for lunch by a nice family in  Newton and ended up staying over.  We may or may not connect again along the way.

It's now way past bedtime, and as I suspected this park is rife with fireflies.  Time to turn in.

But You Didn't Cycle All of That

Rush Center Kansas to Nickerson Kansas.  91 miles.

Today was a fantastic day in Kansas!  We were up early and rode a tough 31 miles into Larned before stopping for a quick bite to eat.  Let me back up a bit, because I don't recall having mentioned earlier that we have made another Australian friend, with whom we have been traveling for about a week.  Her name is Kim, she is 24 and from Bunbury, a place in western Australia.  By "traveling with" I mean that we've been at the same park each evening, and therefore each morning.  We have done some riding in relatively close proximity, and at other times, Riley & I haven't seen her all day, like today.

Today, Riley & I actually hit the road first, which is a first in itself.  After a tough but good paced 31 miles, we arrived in Larned feeling quite peckish and looking for some tasty viddles.  We found those at the Beyer Deli.  Just across the street from the deli, there was a guy working on his lawn, so I thought that, before going into the deli, I'd ask him if there was a better choice for breakfast around.  He said no, and then began to tell me stories about the original "bikecentennial" and some of the various, kooky cyclists that he has seen since. By this time Riley was in the deli, so I went over; asw soon as I stepped inside, every eye in the place, which was about a dozen pairs, were locked on me.  I thought, "What have I done?  This is either very bad or very good, but it can't be neutral."

I don't think that I have mentioned earlier, just how warm a reception that touring cyclists receive throughout the state of Kansas, and if I have I certainly have not done justice to the warmth and hospitality.  Camp for free in the city park, swim and shower for free at the municipal pool.  Locals smiling, friendly, making us feel truly welcome.  The hospitality has been almost overwhelming, until today that is.  Today, the balance was pushed all of the way over, and it began in Larned.

As I stepped into the deli, I was immediately greeted with directions: "You order over there.  If you're from the  same place as this young man here, then you don't have to put a pin in the map, because he's already taken care of that."

The people simply could not have been more engaging and genuinely interested in who we were, where we'd come from, where we were headed, and what route we were planning to use to get there.  The owner had each of us sign a guest book that is specifically for passing cyclists.  It was genuinely difficult to take our leave and get back on the road, and by the time that we did, we had no idea if Kim was still behind or ahead of us.  That was until a local cyclist asked if we knew a single female rider... Then we knew that she was ahead by 20 or so minutes.

 I know that I've mentioned how handy it is to have a smartphone along, and today was no exception.  Riley's bike somehow lost a brake pad, so he's been riding the last 4 or 5 days with only a front brake.  This isn't so bad in nice, flat Kansas, but we will be hitting the Ozark's at some point, and he will need 2 good brakes for that.  Well, the phone told us that Hutchinson has a bike shop, that they are open until 4:00 on Saturday, and not open on Sunday at all.  We had this fin the back of our minds last night as we went to bed.  The next logical stop was Nickerson, about 90 miles away, and Hutchinson was just 10 miles beyond that.  When we couldn't extract ourselves from Larned any quicker than we did, we decided to try our hands once again, at hitchiking, in an attempt to reach Hutch before 4:00.

Now the truth is that the hitchiking wasn't too terribly much faster than riding, but that's because there was so little traffic on the road we were travelling.  What was amazing was that about 90% of all the vehicles that passed us while we were off our bikes by the side of the road, stopped.  Having the thumb out almost seemed not to matter.  The people all stopped to ask if we were okay, and if we needed any assistance that they might be able to offer, even if they knew that they couldn't give the 2 of us and our bikes a ride.

Jeff and Blake, father and son ranchers, gave me a good laugh.  After asking if we were okay and where we were going, Jeff said, "Well, we're going to that intersection and then we're turning left."

The intersection was clearly visable about 200 yards away.  I laughed and chided him for pulling over just to tease us, and told him how mad my mom would be when she found out.  We bade one another fond farewells, and off they went, to the intersection and then left.  But they didn't gain much speed.  Then they began to slow down.  The next thing you know, they had backed up to where they had left us, told us that they had some cattle in Reno County that they could stand to look in on, so off we were for a lift of about 20 miles.  We had a couple of other lifts from nice people, but the prize goes to Florence Kilbourn.

After being dropped off by Jeff and Blake, we were at an intersection of 2 local county roads.  Our method today, due to the very low traffic volume, was to ride until a vehicle was spotted coming from behind, then quickly pull over, get off and stick out the thumb.  Well, we simply hadn't had enough time to get back to riding after Jeff and Blake dropped us off, but we were not just milling about either.  Florence was driving the road that crossed our direction of travel, and stopped.  Florence is a woman about my mother's age, so it sort of felt like my mom had pulled up:  "Are you two alright?  Do you have enough water?  Aren't you hot?  Do you know how to get there and how far it is?  Are you sure you're alright?  How much water do you have with you? Have you had lunch?  When did you eat?"  It was all very endearing because it is exactly how my mom questions me about the trip, and just how my wife Corky does as well.

After giving Florence numerous assurances that we would indeed be fine, that we were not in danger, and not particularly hungry at that moment, she wished us well and was again on her way, or so it seemed.  We started riding, got one of the other rides that I mentioned, and were perhaps 20 miles from where we met Florence, and as fate would have it, we were also on foot preparing to recommence riding once again.  Wouldn't you know it?  Up pulls Florence!  She rolled down her window and asked if we had time enough for some sandwiches!  Florence had gone home, made 4 ham sandwiches, cooked 2 ears of corn, gotten together a large pitcher of ice water, then drove about 20 miles to track us down and feed us!  Thanks Florence!

Of course you can easily predict that we ended up squeezing our 2 bikes, all our gear and ourselves into her smallish 4 door hatchback crossover - whatever make it was, it was not an "eligible" vehicle - and then Florence drove us the remaining 20 or so miles to deliver us at the bike shop's doorstep at about 3:20.  We would not have made it without you Florence.  It wasn't a life or death situation, but still, you have touched our hearts today.

Without going into all of the details that she told us while we were driving and eating, Florence has (or had) stage 4 breast cancer and was given 6 months to live, about 9 years ago.  Last year she had to have open-heart surgery and felt so horrible afterward that she prayed to die.  When that didn't happen, she figured that God must have some unfinished business with her, so she looks for ways to help other people.  Today, it was Riley and I who received a blessing from God, by way of Florence Kilbourn.

Other people have been wonderful as well, like the Ride for MS team members who were headed west.  We used their sevices to get our cell numbers back to Kim when we knew that we had passed her (in a truck).  When we finally got in to Nickerson for the night, I went to the grocery store to ask where the city park was.  I first encountered two guys delivering ice, and the next thing I know, there's a 20 pound bag of ice cubes slung over my shoulder to help me stay cool.  The people in the store were proud to say that we could sleep in the park for free and that there is a shower and water park for us to use...

When I sat down to type this, I asked Kim, "How far was it from Rush Center to here?"  She told me, "90.6 miles, but you didn't cycle all of it."  Very true Kim.  And I'm glad and not the least bit apologetic, because if we had, we would have missed some wonderful encounters with some truly wonderful people.

Larned Kansas

June 30

We were just received with the warmest welcome imagineable from the proprietor, crew and patrons of Meyer Deli in Larned Kansas. Riley had gone in a minute or two earlier, while I asked a man across the street a couple of questions (he was also extremely enthusiastic about our travels). When I walked in the deli, about 10 pairs of eyes were locked on me. I thought, "This is either very good, or very bad." It turns out that everyone wasa eager to hear about our trip, our progress, if we had seen any of the fires in Colorado, etc. I can't imagine a friendlier or more accommodating town.

Pictures to follow via email.

Thoughts on Colorado & Kansas:

Well, we've been pedaling our butts across the high plains for about 5 days now and that's about enough time to formulate some thoughts.  Eastern Colorado and Western Kansas have a lot in common while being distinctly different at the same time.  What the share in common is, I suppose, what they were endowed with by their creator, and that is wide open spaces with seemingly limitless vistas.  We are definitely in the Great Plains and as we ride along, I try to imagine what this area would have been like 200 years ago, say at the time that Lewis & Clark made their epic Corps of Discovery Expedition.  The closest analogy that I can come up with is that there is scant difference between the plains and the ocean.  Granted, Lewis & Clark started with a river and followed it up and across the plains, so they had some means of finding their way back home.  Today, however, all of the roads in Kansas  run either directly north-south, or as is the case of the road we've been on these past 5 days, east-west.  The roads, therefore, do not follow the natural contours and guideposts of the land, and consequently we have been at times very far from any sort of waterway.  If all of man's impact could be erased and someone was dropped into this landscape, they may just as well be in the middle of the ocean.  No real way to get high enough to look around to get an idea of which way to proceed.  You might as well just pick a direction and go...

What distinguishes the two states is the agriculture and oil.  It seems that most of eastern Colorado is relatively untouched ranch land, but as you get farther from the Rockies, and lower in elevation, there is more farming (mostly grain, hay & corn), feedlots for beef, and oil.  There is nothing on the Colorado skylines.  In Kansas, grain elevators dominate the landscape.  There aren't dozens of them to be seen at any one time, in fact usually just one or maybe two, but spotting them while you are on a bicycle, and knowing that where there is a grain elevator, there is some sort of human settlement, you know that that elevator is your next destination, but it may take close to an hour to get there.

Nevada had its long, straight roads, but it has nothing on Kansas.  Whereas the straightaways in Nevada may have been 25 or 30 miles long, some of the straightaways in Kansas apparently run the length of the state.  The difference is that in Nevada you can see that entire length because the road essentially becomes a giant vee, with one side coming down one mountain range and the other side running up the next.  In Kansas, because it is so flat or with gentle rolling hills, you can rarely see even 4 or 5 miles of the road.  What you can see is that grain elevator ahead, growing little by little as you slowly inch your way closer.

Grain elevators themselves are rather impressive structures.  They are essentially clusters of 6 or 8 concrete tubes perhaps 100 or 120 feet tall.  I don't profess to know anything about them, but I suppose that they are sort of like super silos.  The grain goes in at the top (hence the name) and is removed from the bottom.  This would automatically cause you to "rotate stock" to use restaurant parlance.  The oldest grain is always being drawn out first so that none of it gets too old.  At any rate, they appear to be poured in one casting - one very large casting of concrete.  Mind you, it's not the Boulder Dam, but impressive to me just the same.  The next time that I see Brock Roby, please remind me to ask him about elevators.

Product Review:
The Camelback insulated water bottle is the only bottle that I will ever purchase from here on out! There is one small proviso, and that is that my only experience with them is a 24 oz bottle.  There is not enough clearance between the front fender and the bottom of the downtube for this size bottle.  If I cannot find a Camelback insulated bottle that will fit, then I would use a standard  sized Camelback bottle for below the downtube (on bikes with 3 water bottle mounts).  They do indeed keep the water much colder for much longer, and that has mattered a lot this week.  There are few things less appealing while pedaling in 110 degree heat, than to have to drink warm water!  And by warm, I do mean warm.

Product Review:
The Goal Zero Nomad 7 solar panel works great!  It can be used to directly charge my HTC smartphone, iPad, iPod and Serfas USB rechargeable headlamps and tail lamps.  The Guide 10 Plus battery pack inspires less confidence, but that doesn't mean it isn't working properly.  The unit has a LED on it that is supposed to blink red slowly when the battery pack is being charged, but is below 50% capacity, change to a slow green blinking when the unit is 50%-80% capacity, blink green quickly between 80%-100%, and remain lit solid green when the unit is fully charged (and still connected to a power source - either the solar panel or a USB source).  Well, you can charge this baby, unplug it, and immediately plug it back in, and it will return to slow green blink, or one of the other options.  It seems at times that the flashing LED is actually indicating the strength of the power coming out of the solar panel, because when I first connect the unit, it might blink red, but if I then position the panel for optimum angle of incidence, the LED changes to green right away.

In spite of those peculiarities, the Guide 10 Plus battery pack has consistently been able to recharge the phone and iPod over night.  We simply have them strapped to the top of the load on our rear racks, meaning over the top of the sleeping bag or tent.  Neither of us has gotten too obsessively anal about it, but we do have to be in the "harvesting" mindset to really get the maximum out of the solar unit.  Make sure that the battery pack gets fully charged every day, then switch to the phone, or iPad, charge the iPod from the pack, recharge the pack, etc...  But as I said, we haven't had to do much of that sort of thing, and it would be hard to be any more pleased, with the exception of the blinking LED.

That's plenty for now.  Even this took about an hour or more of "work". Hey we met quite a few west-bound riders today.  The Korean man will be in San Francisco in early August.  He said that he hoped to be able to visit me there and then, if I'm back.  If I'm not back, would anyone like to entertain him?

Dale