Day 26

Mileage: 91
Total mileage: 2273

In the mountains at last!

Last night I feel asleep on a mattress, with my head on a pillow. This morning I woke up on the floor, with my head on the mattress. I suppose I'm not used to mattress sleeping, but I get to try again tonight!

Everyone else who slept at Gillian's last night was up by 5 and out by 7. I knew the breakfast diner didn't open up until 8, so I was up at 7:30 after a nice long night's rest. It was 50 miles into Pueblo, with no restaurants, so I'm assuming the others just ate food they had with them. At the diner, I asked, like I usually do, if they will make a super sized combo for me. My breakfast of 8 eggs over easy, short stack of pancakes, hashbrowns and toast never seems to be a menu item, and if you paid the side price for each item, you'd end up with a 20 dollar meal. I love small town diners! They agreed to charge me $7.50, which I thought was hilariously cheap. The atmosphere at these places is amazing. One retired patron apparently had the informal job of walking around and swatting all the flies. Everyone was heckling him as he went past their table good-naturedly. Every person who came in got a round of greetings from everyone else. I ended up sitting with a nice couple of ladies, Dorothy and Anita and hearing about their children and grandchildren as well as life in Ordway. When I got up to leave, Anita bought my breakfast for me, which was just incredibly nice of her.

With a belly full of food, the road into Pueblo was flat and uneventful, but there was so much scrub that I couldn't get a clear view of the mountains ahead. The vegetation is changing with the elevation and scrub brush covering small hills is the new norm. As I was riding along, suddenly I heard a familiar voice shout my name. It was once again Steve! ! We rode hard for a while and then parted ways once we reached the city. He was off to a motel and to meet a friend and I needed to go get Wi-Fi at the library.

Pueblo is an enormous city in my new frame of reference: 100,000 strong, and I didn't much like it. I suppose this is going to seem backwoods or superior of me, but everyone just seems to slide off one another, instead of interacting. It's not their fault, it's just impossible to have that kind of close connection when you're sharing a city with so many other people. Drivers were noticeably less patient and I felt the least safe on the side of the road since the shoulderless Kentucky highways

I chugged a half gallon of chocolate milk while working from the library computer for a while and then went to hang out at the bike shop. They gave me a rag and let me spend around an hour in the workshop with my bike up on the stand, cleaning components, degreasing and oiling my chain, wiping down the frame and just generally doing a much needed halfway point tuneup.

I wasn't back on the road until about 4 in the evening, and I completely forgot to get some real food while I was in the city. Either way, I figured I didn't have that far to go, and I certainly wasn't turning around, so I just pushed on. Outside of Pueblo, I crawled over the top of a biggish ridge (indignant that I had to use my small ring for the first time in several hundred miles) and saw the Rockies on the other side of one last prairie.

Oh boy, what a feeling it was to be riding towards that looming wall and feel it growing taller and taller above me! I had excitement, wonder and a healthy dose of intimidation all swirling around inside of me as I crossed the last of the windy plains and started into the foothills.

Just on the other side of the first foothills, tucked away back into the mountains is a tiny little beautiful town called Wetmore. I included one picture, not of the town, but of the little mountain valley it sits in which was just so picturesque. Pretty soon I was losing most of the elevation I had just gained as I descended into Florence where I planned on staying the night in city park. I went to check in with the police and wound up getting a very formal evaluation, with my name and drivers license information all being relayed back to the dispatcher to make sure I wasn't some criminal. In retrospect, it makes a lot of sense, as there is kind of a federal supermax prison right here outside of town.

I went to eat at a Chinese restaurant and got to talking with another group at a nearby table. This was Dan, his wife Audrey and their son Brock. They recently moved up to Wetmore from Pueblo, and from the change in view, I'd say it was worth it. We talked about Kentucky and Phoenix and how they've changed over the years and finally got around to the question of why I was sitting in Colorado, in my biking outfit, crusted with salt and staring at maps while I waited for my food.

As we finished eating, Dan extended an invitation in true cowboy style, saying only 'You want a shower tonight?' I babbled how much I'd love one. 'Throw your bike in the truck then' and he walked out to the parking lot.

I rode back to their place in Wetmore, willing to trade the 14 miles of downhill riding for a hot shower, but then Brock offered to drive me into town tomorrow morning. So tonight I'm sleeping on a lush bed that I hopefully won't fall out of. I've been plied with towels, soap, showers, cold water, bananas, popcorn, laundry and every other luxury you can think of. I'm not quite sure how to react. I've been so used to simple pleasures that I'm a little overwhelmed by all the sudden pampering. But I won't complain, I'm just so happy we ran into each other tonight and I think we'll stay in touch for a long time after I go.

Tomorrow involves climbing, but that's all that I'm going to say. No promises and maybe something big will happen. Either way, I'm going to need a few hours of sleep. G'night!

Day 25

Mileage: 119
Total Mileage: 2192

Goodbye Kansas! I'm going to miss you!

This morning started nice and late at 8am, which is even later once you realize I crossed into Mountain Time last night, and it's effectively 9. But I've been in no hurry these days, in contrast to most of the cyclists I've been meeting, and I think I've figured out why. More on that later.

My ride this morning started out with one of those 60 mile stretches of nothing, that used to be intimidating, and are now the norm. 15 miles in, I crossed the border into Colorado. The cyclists I stayed with two nights ago, in Ness City were there taking pictures and they happily snapped one of me as well. I tend to play leapfrog with groups like this, seeing them at least one or two times before I finally pull away.

As I was crossing the border, I entered a small settlement called Towner (pop 22). There was one of those 10 story grain elevators/silos and I noticed a rickety emergency ladder running up to the top. I pulled over and got off my bike to see if I could climb to the top for a good view of the country side, but there was an attendant overseeing the loading of some trucks and he told me I couldn't climb it. He did give me a heads up though that there was an abandoned elevator about 20 miles down the road, and that no one was likely to stop me if I tried to climb it. 

So, an hour later, in the small town of Brandon (pop 21) I found the abandoned elevator and climbed up it. The ascent up the rusty old ladder was a bit sketchy and I winced at every creak, but I eventually made it up to the top without falling to my death. The view from the top was phenomenal, but I feel the phone camera still doesn't quite capture the breadth of these flatlands. 

I technically climbed the silo. The grain elevator was across this rickety, rusted out walkway which I chose not to cross. The wind was fierce up here and you can see that the ladder doesn't quite go to the top of the elevator anyways. If I could have gotten on top, I think I would have tried to cross this thing.

There's so much wheat around here that it grows wild around the silos. I got my farmer on for a few miles until the gusting wind finally blew it out of my mouth.

You'll notice that yesterday I crossed the 2000 mile mark, but didn't make big fuss about it. That's because today there was a much bigger milestone coming up today in Eades. I officially crossed the halfway mark this afternoon! I'm well over halfway across the country in the East-West direction, but I've got a lot of northward miles to put on before I make that last Westward pull into Oregon. I'm going all the way up into Montana!

I got a little nervous this afternoon, because I knew I had some climbing coming up. I'm not talking about the mountains either. Pueblo, my lunch stop for tomorrow, is at about 4700 feet elevation. I remember when I was riding with Steve a few days ago, he made a comment about us being at "1700 feet already." However, the last few days I had been riding through flat terrain and during much of this morning, I felt like I was actually going downhill. Apparently I was going to be in for a big long climb once I got near Pueblo. 

You can imagine my surprise then, when I rode into Eades at lunch and saw the sign saying "Elevation 4513" Apparently I'd been climbing on these 120 mile days, and not even realizing it!! It's like someone slipping medicine into a bowl of yogurt to make it go down easier. I climbed 3000 feet without even tasting it!

Tonight I aimed for a little town called Ordway (pop 1000). The wind was blowing hard out of the southeast all afternoon, which was wonderful when I was going west, but miserable during one stretch when I turned hard south out of Haswell. As the road slowly curved back around facing west, I could feel the wind slowly aligning at my back and I couldn't help but open it up. 15 miles outside of Ordway, I started my stopwatch at mile marker 121 and just started cranking. I wanted to see if I could stay near 20 mph the whole time. 38 minutes later, I rocketed into Ordway, with an average speed around 22 mph. My legs were on fire, but it was exhilarating!

As I rode through the main street, I saw a gaggle of loaded bicycles leaned up against the outside of the diner. Always a good sign! As I leaned my bike alongside theirs, a saucy lady with a New Zealand accent leaned out the door and yelled "Get out of here! You're no cyclist, with a backpack like that you've gotta be a hiker!"

Enter Gillian. I went into the restaurant for some pie and met Gillian, a local, two more Kiwis, a guy named Glenn, a lady named Cheryl and Liam Neeson. The last guy is actually a southern gentleman named Jim, but he's the spitting image of Liam Neeson, so that's become his nickname. Unmentioned on my maps, Gillian operates a cyclists only hostel of sorts. She doesn't charge anything, but has cyclists do a few chores around her animal farm or in the community to earn their board. After dinner, we all rode over to the house of an elderly lady in the community and pulled up all the dead larkspur from her yard, before continuing on to Gillians'. She's got goats, chickens and some huge dogs! Two of them are Akita-Wolf mixes, and needless to say, they're enormous.

Here in Ordway, we're only about 60 miles away from Pueblo, which is nestled in the Rockies, so all afternoon I was straining to get a glimpse of the mountains on the horizon. I knew I should be able to see Pike's peak, but I couldn't differentiate the low clouds from the thin line I assumed was the mountains. Tonight, as I rode over to Gillian's, I went past a large open field just as the sun was setting. There was heavy cloud cover smothering the entire horizon, except in one expanded window, just over Pike's peak, where the sun was setting. After crossing the entirety of the Great Plains, my first glimpse of these huge mountains was in the context of a fiery sunset, sinking below one of their highest peaks. My camera was dead, hence the description instead of a picture, but I just stood and stared for a good 15 minutes until the light finally faded away, burning the scene into my mind. A couple of the other cyclists might have gotten a good picture of it. If I run into any of them tomorrow, I'll ask them to text it to me so I can share on here.

Gillian bullied some of us into playing a few rounds of dominoes before heading to bed, so I'm getting to sleep late, but I want to include one last thing; the reason I've been getting up late and riding, instead of knocking out the miles early like everyone else I've encountered.

At the beginning of this trip, and for several hundred miles afterwards, I was still unsure of my ability to complete the ride each day. I wasn't sure how many miles I could get, whether I could stand the heat, if I could climb all the hills or stay on pace. The afternoons were hot, and I felt better about my ability to survive the day if I got my miles in early. Each day's ride was an obstacle, something to get out of the way before I could stop for the night. Here on the plains, something has changed. Part of it is the weather. It gets up to about 100 degrees in the afternoon, but it's a dry heat and I'm not dehydrating like I used to. A second facet is my confidence in my ability to put in miles. I know I can easily crank out 100 miles now and an extra 20 here or there is really no big deal. But I think the biggest change has been a lack of destinations. I know that every day, I'm going to ride until it starts to get dark, and every night I'm going to find some tiny little town and sleep on a park bench or picnic table. There's no real goal. Nothing ahead of me is any bit more exciting than what's behind me or even where I'm at right now. As a result, I've been able to get away from "enduring" my day's mileage, or "conquering" it. Without a destination to look forward to, I've started to finally enjoy the riding part of the journey in a whole new way. It also helps that my butt doesn't hurt anymore. =)

Tonight I'm sleeping on a mattress on the floor. It's been a looooooong time since I've had a mattress and right now it feels good! Tomorrow I start the Rockies, so I'd better get my sleep. G'night!

Day 24

Mileage: 102

Total mileage: 2073

Oh boy am I going to miss this state! 

Last night I feel asleep a little bit late because I was so enamored with the stars. There was no pressure for today, so I decided to sleep in a little. I was awake at 8:30 and didn't leave from the local breakfast diner until 9:30a. Breakfast conversation was with another solo touring cyclist. He spent the morning telling me about getting fired from his job, his brain injury  from the army and his recent divorce. I mostly nodded and chewed my breakfast burrito, musing that there might be a reason he was traveling alone.

I finally kicked out of Ness City with a little bit of tailwind behind me, but mostly gusty crosswinds.

There's a big harvesting operation going on right now. A huge Canadian company 

is here right now doing the harvesting and they're running massive oversized equipment up and down the highway all day long. I noticed while looking down to avoid the dust they kick up that my bike, bottles, shoes and pants are all in this cool black and white theme. If I was wearing a while and black jersey I would be tricked out from head to toe in color coordinated gear. I snapped a picture because I thought it looked cool.

Traveling today consisted of riding the 96 with brief stops in the towns every 25 miles. My first turn off route besides getting water at gas stations was at mile 101 to get to the park I'm at tonight. 

Again I tried and failed miserably to get a representative picture of what the landscape is like out here, but I don't think it's possible on a phone camera. One of my goals for this trip was to try and get a sense of scale for this country. 

The first time I rolled into the Flint Hills, I was in awe at the endless expanse of rolling grasslands. I rode for an hour to the edge of the first horizon and still, all I 

could see were fields. But having ridden for hours upon hours and day after day, I've finally lost the ability to internalize their size. It's like when you see size comparisons of things in space and you just lose the ability to comprehend that kind of scale. That's what it's been like for me riding out here. I bet for the first European explorers they felt downright interminable! 

This afternoon, as I left my penultimate city for the final 25 mile expanse of nothingness, there was a storm brewing on the horizon. I included both a normal picture and a panorama, because I'm not sure how the formatting will work on here. 

I've been asked by a few people out here what I do when I run into a thunderstorm. My answer is usually 'I get wet.' So as I was knuckling down into the headwinds preceding the storm a truck pulled up to me and rolled down his window. He told me I needed to get off the road because the upcoming storm had 2 inch hail. I really wanted to push through, but I figured I'd be kicking myself if I ended up damaging my pack or bike for an extra hour of riding, so I found a farmhouse and knocked on the front door.

An older lady answered the door and I asked if I could wait out the storm on her porch. She was surprisingly hesitant, but finally agreed. As the rain really started to come down, a pickup pulled into the yard and a farmer got out. As he was walking up to his door, I stood up to introduce myself. He pushed past, muttering that 'These blasted kids can ride halfway around the world, but you get a little sprinkle and they're knocking on everyone's door.' 

I sat back down on the porch, seriously self conscious because I knew I could handle a rainstorm, but pretty soon the farmer came back outside with some beer and pulled up a rocking chair. He had been yanking my chain, and done a really good job of it. He had been a cattleman  before his retirement and he taught me a bunch about the business and the surrounding agriculture. By the time things got down to a drizzle, I was sorry to go, but I needed 20 more miles before dark.

The  wind behind the storm was blowing westward, and I rode it all the way into Tribune where I'm staying tonight at the city park. Once again I'm marveling at the stars when I should be asleep, but it's a trade-off I'm willing to make. Tomorrow I'm into Colorado and looking forward to seeing the Rockies on the horizon for the first time! G'night! 

Day 23

Mileage: 125
Total mileage: 1971

When you catch hold of a tailwind in Kansas, you hang on tightly till it dies!

Last night around midnight, a racer rolled into the pavilion where I was sleeping and asked to use one of the other picnic tables as a bed. He was an older gentleman named Joe and was essentially riding the race for completion, which requires you to finish in 40 days. I thought it was really cool what he was doing, but he must have been a little self conscious about his place in the pack, because he kept giving excuses as to why he didn't get more mileage during the day, why he had to get up a bit later, etc. He finally settled down to sleep with a promise to be gone by 4:30. I figured that meant he would be out by 6.

Sure enough, I heard movement this morning, starting at about 5:30. I continued to snooze until 6, when my alarm went off and then I was packed up and clipped into my bike by 6:08, just to show this guy up a little bit. Breakfast this morning was at a convenience store, which is less than desirable, but there's nothing open in these small towns on a Sunday morning and I didn't have a lot of options down the road. While I was eating, Steve from a few days ago showed up from Hutchinson, where he stayed last night! I polished off my food quickly and rode out with him.

The day started with a segment that was marked on my map as 'no services, 58 miles.' I was quite happy to be with Steve because we chatted as we rode and it made the long road seem shorter. As a rule, touring cyclists almost never pass other cyclists on the road. A small 10 minute head start will put you miles ahead of someone else, which can take hours to make up, since the difference between easy pedalling and heroic effort is only a few mph. Regardless, we passed a whopping two(!) Sets of tourists on the road today, going the same direction. It was good riding, gorgeous empty land, traffic free and fairly flat without wind. You can see in one of my pictures of the trees, which direction the wind usually blows from.

40 miles in, Steve noticed a thunderstorm on the horizon. I normally would have eyeballed the storm, the wind and our location and figured we were getting wet, but I had Steve with me and that's not the way he does things. He checked the Doppler on his phone, got his wife to look online for extreme weather warnings and used a site to track the local weather systems. He concluded that we were going to get wet.

Regardless, we did the manly thing and tried to outrun it. The storm was coming up from the south, and if we could get far enough ahead of it, it would crash into the road behind us. We started pacelining, one person pulling hard against the new wind while the other rode tightly in the draft zone, switching off every minute so that each person got a break. After a half hour if hard racing, it came right down to the wire, but we managed to get ahead of the clouds, just as they started to hit the roads behind us.

Immediately in front of us came another storm and we got soaked.

Several discrete storms roam the plains out here like Pac-Man ghosts, I think you can see two in a photo I included. Absolutely sopping, we rolled into Larned, where Steve was stopping for the day. This was one of his slow days and he had a friend to meet in town. I dripped into a local Mexican restaurant for lunch and planned the rest of my day. I decided to go 30 more miles into Rush Center to make an even 90 after yesterday's long ride.

As soon as I got on the bike though, my plans changed. I was rolling west, when I suddenly noticed a strange sensation. There wasn't wind in my face. It wasn't even gusting in from the side. Sure enough, I looked at the wheat by the side of the road and my suspicions were confirmed. I had stumbled across the mythical tailwind! And suddenly my plan was decided! When you catch a tailwind in Kansas, you don't let go, and I was ready to hold on all night if it lasted.

With a long haul in mind, I tried to do some calling with the minimal service I have out here. After a few failed calls to my brother to wish him happy birthday, I had some success getting through to Hannah and Brittany from back in Virginia. Talking on the phone is the most battery intensive pastime I have out here, but it's so nice when it works out. I had a great time chatting with them and it made over 30 miles go by like a heartbeat.

Around 5 in the evening, the wind started to peter out, and I was left sitting with another 120 mile day, which is fine by me. I got more Mexican food and tried to find ice cream, with no luck. After checking in at the police station to make sure I don't get moved tonight, I headed to city park to camp. It was still hot out, so I dropped my pack on some concrete that was shaded, and slept for three hours until the sun went down before getting back up to write this.

I've been thinking a lot over the past couple days about my decision to do this trip alone. The downside is an obvious lack of familiar company to spend time with. Encounters with the locals tend to follow a routine and the novelty of being a novelty wears off after a while. The other thing I miss is someone to share accomplishments with. It's one thing to cross the Mississippi solo, it would be a whole different experience sharing that with someone.

On the other hand, I'm really enjoying the flexibility of being solo and the ability to operate pretty close to my physical and mental limits. Whenever I've been backpacking in large groups, I've always admired that lone solo hiker who puts in mile 20 of the day past your camp as you're still eating breakfast. I think of how I could do that and chafe at the idea of another slow plodding day with a group.

I realized this evening that on this trip, I'm finally that guy. Tonight in the park there are three guys traveling together, going west as well. They're each on heavily loaded bikes and as I was laying my stuff out to dry, they were setting up tents. I saw myself in one of the guys who was eyeballing my bare bike and light pack and asking about my mileage. He kept repeating how cool he thought it was that I was doing the trip this way, light, fast, with a backpack and still camping. I now know how it feels to be on the other side of the fence, where I thought the grass was so much greener, because all I was thinking of was how lucky he is to have a cool group of guys to hang out with every night.

At least now I know the trade-off. I've got no idea where I'm headed tomorrow, no clue what the wind will be like and no prediction for how my legs will feel in the morning, so I suppose I'm just gonna go to bed now. G'night!

Day 22

Mileage: 125
Total mileage: 1846

Today I felt like a machine. Nothing particularly outstanding about the day, but nothing really went wrong, and that felt great!

I woke up at a nice, late 7:20, and by 7:30 I was clipped into my bike and rolling. I debated grabbing breakfast in Eureka, but decided I wanted to put on some miles first to work up an appetite.

The 20 mile grind into Rosalia certainly did just that. I was fighting an oblique headwind from the south west and steadily climbing through the Flint Hills, which are absolutely gorgeous. I tried so many times today to capture the sheer size of the wide open grasslands on camera, but every time, my pictures couldn't do it justice.

I showed up in Rosalia, ravenous and ready for breakfast, only to find that nothing is open in that tiny town on a Saturday. A nice lady by the Post Office confirmed my first impression and wished me better luck at my next stop, Cassoday, 17 more miles north.

In search of breakfast, I pulled hard to the north, but this time I had the wind on my side! There is a world of difference between grinding 13 mph over flat land and shooting ahead of the breeze at 24 mph. I made those 17 miles in just under 50 minutes, only to find that Cassoday was shut down as well. To give an idea of the disappointment you face when you roll through a tiny town where nothing is open, I took a picture of Cassoday from the post office. I saw one car while I was there and it was funny to watch her carefully stop at each stop sign as she pulled through 'town.'

Fortunately, there's a highway less than a mile north of town and I was able to find a trucker stop where I downed a mess of sloppy Joe's and cinnamon rolls. I needed it, because the next stretch was marked on my map as 'no services, 40.5 miles.'

This was back into the wind, so I knuckled down and ground out another 3 hours before I finished that long stretch, at the town of Newton. I knew going into Newton that I wanted four things, food, ice cream, to top off my tire pressure at the bike shop and a library to get more audio books and post blog entries.

Right as I was coming through town, I saw a giant sign shaped like an ice cream cone that said 'hamburgers.' Boom. Two down. The bike shop closes early on Saturdays and my trip to the library was brief. I wanted to get some Nietzsche for Colorado, some Thoreau for Wyoming and some Muir for Idaho/Wyoming since I won't be going through California.

The last pull of the day was between two fairly large cities, so I had consistent enough service to call my sister Katrina and wish her a happy birthday. We chatted for a while, which made the miles go by much faster. About 25 miles from my final destination my phone died so I was left to slog out the remaining bit in silence.

The last eight miles into Nickerson, where I'm staying tonight, are all on this single flat and straight road. I was lazily meandering along, bemoaning my sore butt after 115 miles when I noticed a storm gathering in the distance. Pretty soon lightning was flashing on the horizon and I could hear the thunder rolling by. It became a race. Me, now energized, on my lit-up bike flying down a deserted road, with the last light draining out of the sky. All hundred-odd miles of fatigue totally gone as my legs were quickly pumping in cadence. Thunderheads in the distance towering black and high, descending inexorably on little Nickerson. I think that stretch is going to be one of my favorite memories of this whole trip so far, it felt so epic.

I ended up winning and getting to the city park and picnic shelters before the rain started coming down. Tonight I'm crashing on a comfy picnic table again before tomorrow's haul. I heard from a racer that I'm supposed to get a tailwind tomorrow so I have no idea how far I'll be traveling. I'd better get some sleep, G'night!

Day 21

Mileage: 94

Total Mileage: 1721

Riding in the wake of a thunderstorm makes for a very pleasant day!

I considered doing another early start this morning, but the air was cool outside after last night's storm, and I remember yesterday's morning dilemma. When I kicked off before 5a yesterday, I remember wanting insistently to beat the heat, but feeling that I hadn't given my legs enough time to rest on only 6 hours of sleep. So I slept in all the way till 7:30 today and rolled out at eight, with 12 hours sleep under my belt.

And my what a glorious day to be riding! The wind is blowing up out of the south, but it's fairly calm and the sky is overcast. I pulled for 8 miles before stopping in a small town called Walnut (pop 219), where my maps indicated there was a diner. Unfortunately, the real diner in town was shut down and the only food to be had was biscuits and gravy at the convenience store, or else some of their bacon egg and cheese sandwiches. As I was paying for them, the clerk asked nicely, like most clerks do "Would you like me to fill your wattle bottles up as well?"

"Sure, that'd be great" I replied
"Alright, that'll be an extra 25 cents apiece"

I don't know why that was so strange to me, to charge for water, but it made me a little sour about that stop. I told her not to fill them and then just topped them off from the bathroom sink before I left.

For almost all of the ride today, I was cruising along next to big, open fields of corn. I've wanted to take some pictures that capture the sheer size of the agriculture I'm passing through, but I can't find a high spot to give any kind of vantage point. This is the best I could do.

For the first time so far this trip, I've been forced by practical considerations to start planning things out 2-3 days in advance. There are big open stretches here of 40-60 miles with almost no houses, no gas stations and nowhere to get food/water. If I'm not careful, I can end up facing a choice between riding a super short 70 mile day or crossing a long stretch to hit a 130 mile day. For that reason, I ended up taking a fairly easy day today with only 94 miles, finishing up before 5pm so that on Sunday I can start by jumping out across a 60 mile gap.

I've found that no matter where you go, the locals will warn you about the hills. Today, although I was riding in KANSAS, the owner of the place where I ate lunch warned me about some big hills coming up. I must have been a little dismissive, because she reemphasized by clarifying that they were real gradual hills, but they went on for miles and miles! That made me really happy to hear, because the best hill is a long and gradual one, not a short and steep one. I told her as much, which stymied her for a moment before she changed direction of attack. She then gleefully informed me that it was supposed to be a real scorcher; over a hundred degrees!! It seemed that she really wanted to impress on me how difficult my afternoon was going to be, so I didn't point out the fact that I'd been riding in 100 degree heat for a week, or that it was 3 in the afternoon and the hottest part of the day was already over. I just nodded sagely and griped with her for a while about how tough Kansas riding is. (*eye roll*).

I took a picture of the downtown main street in Eureka, KS, where I'm staying tonight. Every Kansas town seems to have this western styled main drag and I find it really cute. I stopped in at the Half Dollar bar and hung out for a while with the local farmers, learning about cattle farming and hearing about how things have changed in the last couple decades. It's the same story here as everywhere else; small independent farms are being consolidated everywhere into huge ones, because nowadays one family can just tend so much land. Regardless, most of the old timers have found some other trade to supplement their income. I chatted for a long time with a guy who makes specialty knives and learned a fair bit about the process.

Before I went to find food, I headed to City Park where I'm sleeping. They had a pool there, which was supposed to be closed after 5p, but there were swimming lessons going on. The lady in charge let me go ahead and jump in, which I did in full biking kit. I'd normally swim in my spandex, but they're unusable in public (due to recent modifications) and I wash my chamois out every night anyways in a sink, so I figured this was no different.

Cooled down, cleaned off and with all my stuff hanging out to dry, I headed over to Benny's bar and grill to get supper. I stuck around for a while after the dinner rush ended, talking to an old farmer named Dan and the bartenders/waitresses Trienne (right) and Yvette (left). I'm always curious what young people do for fun in these small towns, so I ask whenever I get the chance. The answer here was pretty much similar to what I've heard across the midwest. They spend most of their spare time just hanging out, drinking and driving around, doing nothing in particular. They didn't sound particularly excited about it either.

Tonight I'm on a picnic bench in the park. I finally broke down a few towns ago in Hartville and bought some bug spray, which I'm really thankful for tonight. I've learned to use the fireflies as a decent gauge of how thick the mosquitoes are, and tonight there's a veritable fireworks show. It's gorgeous and I'm hardly getting bitten thanks to the spray. Also, even in the middle of this town, the light pollution is so minimal that I have a full sky of stars above me tonight. I've got a long pull ahead of me tomorrow so I'm getting to sleep around 9. G'night!

Day 20

Mileage: 93
Total mileage: 1627

I've reached the flat lands!

I kicked off this morning with a 4:30 start, a little bit before the sky started to brighten for the day. I suppose I was counting on the morning miles to be fairly free in terms of effort, so I was disappointed a little when I rolled out this morning and it was already about 70 degrees if not 80. I say already, but it's still heat leftover from the night before, so I should say 'still' 70 degrees. I kicked it through about 20 miles of decent sized hills before suddenly everything stopped. I went down a big hill and couldn't see the next one. It just wasn't there! I had arrived on the great plains at last.

The novelty lasted about 10 miles, far enough to get me into Golden City for breakfast. I was so excited to not be fighting the hills that I almost didn't mind the headwind I was grinding into.

It's funny how these tiny little towns in the middle of nowhere with one diner know exactly who you are as soon as you show up. Everyone stops at Cooky's Cafe, because there's not any food for three hours either way. They've got a guest log where you can keep tabs on the people you're catching up to and read what everyone has to say. I tried the Dutch blackberry pie there at the recommendation of previous cyclists and was not disappointed.

As I left Golden City on the 35 mile stretch into Kansas I discovered a new kind of challenge. The Great Plains are boring! All across the eastern US I've had little goals laid out ahead of me all day. Climb this hill, make this descent, round the next corner, watch for your turn off. Suddenly I had nothing to do but pedal in a straight line for 35 miles. The downside of having nothing to distract me is that I started feeling my pack for the first time today. I spent at least an hour at a time in the same position, leaning forward into the wind and cranking, but I think it was more just not having something to distract me from the weight than posture.

For three hours I ground on into the wind, engaging in such exciting pastimes as counting pedal strokes, drinking from my water bottle, and seeing how many consecutive times I could make myself yawn. For the curious, 6.

When I got into Pittsburgh I had a great idea. I went to the library and used their Wi-Fi to start an audible free trial and download some radiolab podcasts. The audible free trial gets you one audio book and I chose 'Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance' at the recommendation of Desiree from Carbondale. So far it's making the miles slip by much easier. I don't even have to worry about it distracting me from listening for traffic, because you can hear cars coming from half a mile away on these roads. I could ride down the middle of my highway lane with my eyes closed and it would still be safe here. Motorists can see a good mile of the perpetually empty opposite lane and the few that are on the roads here have all passed with room to spare on the opposite side of the road. Probably the safest highways I've ridden so far, just due to the lack of traffic.

I slept at the library for a few hours to wait out the heat of the afternoon and then snagged lunch at a cafe before peeling out. I had a choice this evening, push on to the Chanuke city hall for a 120 mile day and camp outside, or stop around 93 and stay in a church fellowship hall. That choice was made for me as thunderheads started to pile up on the horizon.

Tonight I'm sleeping on the church's fellowship hall floor. There was no one here but I called the number on my map and got a hold of the pastor who just said the door was unlocked and I should make myself at home. I took that to mean 'make yourself a snowcone' with their snowcone supplies, shower with their hose and crash at 7:30. I forgot that I cut the backs out of my spandex so I don't really have a decent way to shower or swim anymore in public. Fortunately, no one lives in Kansas so I was able to take an outdoor shower next to a state highway and not a single car drove past. Nifty eh?

Shoot, I'm also just realizing that I spread my cycling clothes out to dry like it was a normal night. I'd better go get them and wring them out to dry inside or I'll be riding sopping wet tomorrow. The electricity just went out here, so I guess that's my cue to get some sleep, the storm is going really hard so I'm happy to be inside. G'night!

Day 19

Mileage: 76
Total mileage:1534

Last night I discovered that the favorite pastime of the local youth is to get into loud pickup trucks without mufflers and rev them noisily up and down main street. Apparently the game starts around 8 and continues on until after midnight.

Unfortunately, I was sleeping on the lawn outside of city hall last night, which happens to be the hub for this activity. I slept intermittently from 9 till midnight at which point I sat up and yelled across the parking lot 'How late do y'all usually do this? '

In response I got a few seconds of stunned silence, followed by one kid timidly yelling back 'Sorry, we'll wrap it up!' Oops, I think I just ruined the one fun thing they have to do in town for tonight. They stopped about 15 minutes later.

Since I didn't get a ton of sleep, I decided to sleep in until 7:30. When I had packed up and hit the road, I saw another cyclist coming my way through town, headed west. I whistled hello and he responded by yelling the last thing I expected, which was 'Carl?!'

Enter Steve. He's been hot on my tail for about a week now and apparently I've left an impression on a few of the cyclists I've passed. He specifically mentioned Greg and Maura from Virginia and Kevin from Utica, who both told him that I was ahead and might be catcheable.

Steve deserves some describing, because I really admire the way he's doing this trail, even if it's not for me. If I'm a fast touring cyclist, he's a slow racer. He has a bit of gear, just strapped in aerodynamic panniers on his frame and no saddlebags. He's got a Garmin with the whole route programmed into it, giving him turn by turn directions and elevation information. It even had a radar on the back that senses oncoming cars.

Steve is a high school history teacher who's recently married, with a kid on the way, so this was his last shot at a big hurrah for a while. He has every day planned because he's riding from motel to motel and had to hit his reservations. On average I guess he rides about 90 miles, with stretches of 130 and even 150 on flat days, and does every day in one long extended pull, eating the food he's carrying on the side of the road. I rode a couple hours with him to Marshfield, but I needed to stop for breakfast and library Wi-Fi, so he continued on to Ash Grove.

In Marshfield I ran into Alexis and Travis! They stayed in the city park last night and rode out before me this morning, which explains why I didn't see them. They're also headed to Ash Grove so I'll see them there tonight as well.

Riding conditions were hot, hilly and windy, the triple combo. I took a picture from the top of one hill, looking over the next four you can see in that single frame. Fortunately they break soon as I cross Golden City into the mythical land of Kansas. I'm gonna have to start riding some weird hours to beat the heat. Today was 105 and humid and I never want to do that again. Steve is riding out tomorrow at 3a. I'll be behind him around 4.

A weird and unforseen problem is that I sweat so much, my chamois (that's bike shorts) get literally drenched. If I start to dry out at a rest stop, the salt crystallizes out, turning my pants into sandpaper. As a result I get chafing on the inside of both thighs. One way to beat it is to wear spandex underneath, but that had the downside of holding your butt in one stiff conformation, leading to some very focal saddle sores.

Today I think I found the solution. At one of my stops, I cut the back out of my spandex leaving me with what I call, for lack of a better term, my assless chaps. I wore them under my chamois today and it prevents the chafing without giving me saddle sores. And since it's under my shorts I don't even look ridiculous. I skipped that photo for you guys though.

Tonight in Ash Grove, I'm staying at a little house that the city maintains in the park for cyclists. Everyone I met today was here, along with a few others going east. For dinner, I was riding around the one main street to try and find an open restaurant and ended up checking out a hopping place called Soulfire. Turns out it was actually a Christian ministry and I was entering just as their service was starting, but they pulled me in and gave me all the hotdogs I could eat, so I stayed through the whole service which was very enthusiastic. Lots of rock music and 'Amen's' with some 'Can you feel me's!?' thrown in there. I met a bunch of people afterwards and they were really cool.

Full, I'm going to sleep for the night. Tomorrow I'm going to try to do a long morning pull from 4 till about noon and then see where the late evening can take me. G'night!

Day 18

 Mileage: 106.5

Total Mileage: 1458

 

I think tomorrow the Ozarks and I will be parting ways with a mutual grudging admiration.

 

I woke up this morning a bit early since one of the other cyclists sharing the outside pavilion was a very heavy snorer and I wasn't going to get much more sleep. I was on my bike and on the road by 5:40, just in time to catch a beautiful Ozark sunrise.

 

 

Today is wet, and it's not due to rain or dew or condensation, it's just very very humid outside. There were huge fog banks over the mountains when I kicked off this morning and I was thoroughly soaked with sweat before 6 o'clock. I found out this morning why the Ozarks have a reputation for being a grueling self propelled rollercoaster of incessant and unrelenting hills. I pushed through about 30 miles of steep hills, 15-20% grades before finally arriving at the town of Eminence where I had breakfast. The upshot of this wicked segment was that the climbs kept taking me up small mountain peaks and the descents brought me across a lot of pretty rivers. 

 

After a similar 8 mile haul into Alley Spring, things finally started to let up and transformed into a gentle climb. Let me tell you, the grade of the hills you're riding is infinitely more important than the net elevation change. A slow and steady uphill is so much less exhausting than the steep rollercoastering of the early morning.

 

Around Alley Spring, I stopped for water and met a cyclist named Chris from Britain. He's also riding the TransAm, albeit with significantly more weight than me. We rode together into Summersville and then the remaining 25 into Houston. It was nice to have someone to gripe to about the fact that every Missouri highway seems to have rumble strips filling up the shoulders of the road. They're nearly invisible until you're riding on them which makes you seem like a real jackass to the passing motorists for riding in the road instead of the nice-appearing shoulder. Oh well, what can you do?

 

I should be doing a better job of taking pictures of the cyclists I'm meeting, but the fact is, there are just so many of them. Right now, I'm in the middle of the Race Across America pack, and keep meeting cyclists coming the other direction. Last night in Ellington I stayed with a guy named Mike (westbound) Stewart (westbound) and three eastbound travelers whose names I didn't catch. Yesterday I also saw 5-6 eastbound racers and ran into another 4 today.

 

In Houston, Chris went off to find a motel for the night and I tried to decide where I would shoot for the night. I ended up settling on Hartville, another 35 miles away, and started in on the grind. Along the way I stopped in a little town called Ben Davis for water and met a nice lady named Joan and her two kids. They run the convenience store in town and Joan brings her own water in from home so that passing cyclists don't have to fill up from the iron-tainted tap water of the store. We talked about the leaders of the bike race and I signed the guest log. Turns out I'm finally on the same day as a couple named Alexis and Travis I've been trying to catch for a while and might find them in Hartville. Before I left, her son James taught me a good way to fold a paper airplane and I taught him a better way to tie his shoes. Fair exchange in my mind.

 

Finally, towards the evening I rode into Hartville. I stopped off as I was crossing a creek coming into town and took a quick bath/rinse where it ran under the bridge which felt amazing! It was a hot day today and I pulled a lot of miles through pretty difficult terrain.

 

One thing that small towns do around here which I find hilarious, is they post their state championships on a sign as you enter the town. Hartville has apparently been pretty successful in recent years, but this sign reminded me of Hindman, Kentucky where a sign as you enter town reads "Boys State Baseball Champs, 1943." And that's it, it's the only championship up there. But don't worry about it Hindman, I'm sure it's just been a bit of a slow century, you'll bounce back soon.

 

 

Tonight I'm sleeping on the grass outside the city hall. I didn't find Alexis and Travis here, perhaps they went farther and camped somewhere else for the night. I'm exhausted so even though it's blazing hot here, I'm ready to fall asleep before 8. G'night! 

 

Day 17

Mileage: 76
Total mileage: 1352

Back on the road with a short day today.

This morning I got to sleep in, but I was waiting outside the Farmington bike shop when they opened at 10. They didn't have a new chainring in the size I needed, but they did have a relatively lightly used set they pulled off a bike someone else had traded in. It wasn't perfect, but as the shop owner aptly pointed out, it was a lot better than what was currently on my bike.

 

After letting them fiddle around with it for a bit I was back on and ready to go. I'm convinced that cyclists on the trail get special pricing because the whole deal with derailleur adjustment came out to 25 dollars, parts included. By noon I was ready to go.

 

The only issue is that I was going backwards, not forwards. I want to make sure I finish this whole trail and don't skip any part of it, including those last 7 or 8 miles I hitchhiked last night. So I set off eastward got to the highway I would be riding and tried for about 20 minutes to thumb a ride back to my spot. I must have looked sweaty, scary or both because I couldn't convince any pickup trucks to pull over and let me hop in the bed. I could have used my nonthreatening hitchhiking buddy Hannah in this case, but she was at least a thousand miles away and not readily available.

 

Finally, like a petulant toddler being sent to his room, I sulked those 8 miles back through the heat of the afternoon across the steep rises and descents, back to the place I broke down yesterday. I even rode halfway up the next hill, just to make really freaking sure I didn't miss any ground after riding all the way back.

 

While the slog out to my breaking point took an eternity, the return trip was relatively quick and easy. It's completely a mental thing and today was mentally rather frustrating. By the time I was back in town, had lunch and was ready to make some actual progress, it was close to 3 in the afternoon. That was one of the low points in my trip, sitting hot and sweaty in an all you can eat pizza cafe, stuffed and bloated because I tried to eat a trail sized meal after a low mileage morning and thinking to myself that I had made no headway yet today.

 

Fortunately, the answer to my dilemma was to put on some miles, and I'm getting really good at doing that. I pulled about 60 miles this afternoon through the Ozarks which are admittedly hilly, but nothing near what I've come through so far. Seriously, I've no idea why everyone complains about the Missouri hills, it's gorgeous and fairly easy riding.

 

The scenery is completely changed from yesterday's corn fields and rivers. Today, even though I'm not even at 2000ft elevation, I'm riding through alternating conifer stands and meadows. The one picture I included today is of some pretty typical scenery from this afternoon.

 

Along with the change in scenery has come a change in the type of roadkill I'm seeing. Go ahead and take a guess what's been the most common animal by the side of the road these last two days. Wrong, it's armadillos. I've never seen a live armadillo outside of a zoo, but I've seen about 3 dozen dead ones now, which I think is close enough.

 

One thing I've noticed is that I have a very good sense for distance, it's just miscalibrated by about 400 yards. I check my maps every 20 miles or so, meaning I have a decent idea of how far I'm going on a road before I should see a landmark or make a turn. Many, many times this trip I've stopped to recheck my maps because I felt I should be at my destination/turn and was worried I'd gotten off route, only to get back on the bike and see my landmark around the next corner. I've gotten so consistent at doing this that I've found my off-route anxiety to be a great predictor of when I'm about to arrive somewhere. Sure enough, this evening I started to get anxious that I had missed the turn into Ellington which immediately made me excited, knowing that I was probably getting close. Less than a quarter mile later I rolled around a corner to see the sign marking Ellington city limits. Hopefully that anxiety-excitement association doesn't turn into anything pathological...

 

I rolled into Ellington (pop 987) this evening, making about 60 miles of actual progress, which felt really good considering today's circumstances. There's a TransAm hostel in town, so I took a shower before going back to watch a little league baseball game I saw on the way into town. I met a nice couple who live right across the street from the hostel and we chatted for a while before I went to grab Mexican food for dinner.

 

The hostel is full of cyclists tonight so I'm sleeping outside under a pavilion with two other cyclists, Mike and Stewart. When I got back from dinner, Mike informed me that the lady from the baseball game had stopped by with ice water and a milkshake for me. He needn't have mentioned it though because he also told me they were both delicious as he had saved them from melting while I was gone.

 

Getting to bed late, but the heat hasn't been to bad. I can get up tomorrow at 7 and comfortably ride through the day. Hopefully. Fingers crossed. G'night!

Day 16

Mileage: 93
Total mileage: 1276

Oh, irony has struck like a bolt of lightning.

Most of the day went pretty smoothly, starting out with some easy miles in the morning. I left Carbondale around 7am and everything was still completely shut down. Literally not a single place to grab breakfast, so I went ahead and rode the 13 miles to Murphysboro.

At Murphysboro I finished my third map and got to start Map 9 with a choice: the main road or the Mississippi Levee alternate. I was looking at the mileages yesterday and they're identical, so I opted to choose the Levee road, since it seemed really beautiful. It literally routes you up onto the levee and you get to ride about 15 miles right next to the Mississippi river. Yep, that's right, I'm next to the big river and getting ready to leave Illinois already. It's been a pretty easy state so far.

The Levee road (roughly 38 miles) was incredibly gorgeous, but more noticeable than anything it was ridiculously flat!! I got my first taste of the great plains today, which is a little premature because I still need to conquer the Ozarks. It sure did whet my appetite. 

A funny thing about flat country. I missed an unsigned turn onto an unsigned road today (silly me) and ended up putting about 2 miles on before I saw another road sign and realized I was off course. I stopped under a tree outside a farmhouse to decide how I was getting back on route and a nice old farmer came off his porch to come meet me. He quickly set me straight, giving me turn by turn directions to the levee road. The funny part is, we were still 5 miles away from the levee, just standing out among fields of corn and he finishes his instructions by pointing out on the horizon. 

"You see that white thing?" He asked. 

"Yep"

"That's the road on top of the levee, just ride over to it. It's over 30 feet tall, you can't miss it"

It didn't even occur to me that it's so flat out here, I might be able to just look for my destination, even though it was 5 miles away. Also the fact that a 30 foot hill is a noticeable landmark around here is just hilarious, but I was definitely able to find it.

After my detour, I pushed another 15 or so miles into Chester. In addition to having a bridge over the Mississippi, the town is also apparently famous for being the "Popeye" capital of the world. There's a whole park dedicated to the cartoon with statues and memorials and informational plaques. I snapped a photo with my favorite, "Wimpy" who's known for his insatiable appetite for hamburgers. It seemed appropriate given how much I'm eating this trip.

Thinking about my lunch stop today gets me thinking about the hilarious process of getting directions from locals. The way I see it, there are three types of direction givers.

The bloke I met at the farmhouse was the perfect kind of direction giver. He knew where I was trying to go, respected the route I was trying to take to get there, and gave me turn by turn instructions with notable landmarks to look for. Heaven.

The second type is hilarious, but gets old after a while. They're the local who prides themselves on knowing the road networks like the back of their hand, perhaps because they drove a truck for a while or maybe just because they have nothing else to do here in the Midwest. Either way, these folks will start to give you directions, even when you know exactly where you're going and don't need any at all. It's futile to show them your maps and explain that you have a very specific course you'll be following. They want to route you from big city to big city, following the major interstates and highways, sending you 15 miles out of the way here or 150 miles out of the way there to check out what they think are cool landmarks. At the end of the day, all you can do is smile and nod. You tell them that you'll definitely be taking a 20 mile detour to see the local waterfalls and then you get on your bike and go right back to following the actual trail. These people are everywhere!

Today at lunch, I met the third kind. This is the local who knows generally where things are, but has no idea how distances work. I suppose being in a car acts to shorten the miles artificially. I inquired at a gas station if there were any good places to eat in Chester. A lady gave me instructions on how to get to this awesome place called Reids Harvest house. She informed me it was only a quarter of a mile away, just past the Walmart and across from the Casey's General Store. With good landmarks in mind, I rolled out. For context, Chester is built on top of a large hill, with fairly decent climbs to approach from either side. So as I headed off course, I figured I could handle a quarter mile of extra climbing to get back on my route, all in the name of buffet. I kept rolling and rolling, passing the Walmart at about a mile and keeping going until I finally arrived at the buffet, at the bottom of the hill, a little over 2 miles away. Fortunately the food was good and the ice cream plentiful, so I didn't have that hard of a time getting back on course afterwards.

Once I rerouted back through Chester, I came down to the Mississippi (such a fun word to type!) and crossed the river via bridge. I think this is my last big river crossing for a while.

Once I got to the other side, I was in Missouri!! (Notice how flat it started out)

About the weather today: it was hot but not humid, which is apparently very comfortable. Objectively speaking it must have been very hot, because when I stopped once to consult my map, my biking cleats sunk into the melted blacktop. Regardless, it was a nice day to be riding.

Missouri served up a nice 10 miles of flat farmland before I got to start the Ozarks this evening, which are surprisingly a lot like a smaller version of the Appalachians. I was dreading one big climb on my map today, but after about 25 miles of alternating climbs and descents I saw a big open descent ahead of me. Apparently I had tackled it without even realizing.

I can't scoff too hard at the Ozarks though, because they got back at me this evening. I was standing to climb a hill to give my butt a break when I heard a loud crack come from my drivetrain. I managed to unclip and get a foot on the ground without wiping, but the damage was done. My little chainring had snapped on me, which is something we call a "major mechanical." I went from being 6 miles away from Farmington to being stranded with an unrideable bike in about 30 seconds.

I hitchhiked into town with a kid in his pickup truck and walked to the bike hostel where I'm staying tonight. This place is like a USBR 76 themed paradise, but the thrill of staying here is tempered a bit by the knowledge that I have to go back before I can go forward again.

Fortunately there's a bike shop here in town. They open at 10am tomorrow morning so my plan is to sleep in and stop by as soon as they open to see if they have the parts in stock to do my repair. If not, it looks like I'm hitchiking 100 miles back to Carbondale where Bike Surgeon can undoubtedly put me back together today. If I get fixed in town, I'll head back to the spot where I broke down and pick up the trail from there, trying to get a solid half day. The irony is that I had a major mechanical the day following my zero day. If  I had saved that day, I could have just taken a zero here in Farmington while my bike got fixed and not lost any real scheduled time. Oh well, there are some variables you can't control out here and that's one of them.

Tonight, although I'm sleeping in a paradise with bunk beds and couches, I think I'm taking the floor. I tried laying down on the couch and couldn't get comfortable, but the cool wood floors were just right. And yes, even I realize that it's weird. G'night!

Down day 1

Mileage: Zero! !

Today was a very, very relaxing day, and pretty boring so I'll keep it short.

I spent an incredible morning snoozing and didn't officially get out of bed until around 11a. Desiree recommended a place called Fat Patties for lunch, so we went there and my day didn't even really start until noon.

From there I dropped off my bike at the local shop for some specific derailleur and front hub repairs and spent the afternoon in the library eating skittles while filling out a bunch of online forms applying for next year's financial aid at UVA. Exciting stuff right?

Around 4p I was getting bored and remembered that Desiree had recommended I check out a local swimming hole called the spillway. I texted her to ask where it was and she ended up driving me out there where we went swimming. On the way back we stopped at Murphysboro, the barbeque capital of Illinois and had some phenomenal baby back ribs.

Tonight I'm sleeping in a park, hobo style. I actually had a bunch of tinder offers for a shower and a floor to sleep on (good suggestion Jeph, that could be a solid strategy), but I want to get out early tomorrow without bothering anyone.

The mosquitos don't seem too bad yet. G'night!

Day 15

Mileage: 110

Total Mileage: 1183

Ah, today was a glorious day! Fine mileage, good weather and a wonderful stop for the night!

I got the early start I was looking for and managed to put in some serious mileage before it started to warm up. I have to remember that after the time zone change, my 4:45 start is more of a 5:45 start, but it was still plenty cool. This morning I stopped to capture one last roadsign that is just so 'Kentucky.'

I reached the Ohio River this morning around 6 am, just as the ferry was opening up for business. As the ferry crossed to my side, two cyclists got off, going the other direction, all loaded down for the day. I asked about the road behind them, which they described as "hilly." After today's relatively flat ride, I'm thinking they might have some surprises in store for them in Appalachia. I heard today that 90% of cyclists who complete Kentucky (going East to West) end up completing the whole trail, but without a baseline statistic to compare that against, I have no clue if that means the hardest part is over, or if most people just end up finishing this trip one way or another.

Illinois has some gorgeous flat roads with a few rollers. One of the most beautiful legs of my trip today was the stretch from Goreville into Carbondale. I got to ride past two lakes and through some wide open farmland on some intense rolling hills. The only downside was that the roads were really rough, so I couldn't get up much speed and certainly couldn't sit my saddle the whole way. Either way, it forced me to slow down and enjoy some great views. 

Today I also passed a lot of livestock doing the smart thing and hanging out in the shade. Here I think I've interrupted a cow-moot. When I left, they were trying to decide if they were marching on Isengard or not.

This evening I rolled into Carbondale!! Celebrating a little over 1/4 of the trip behind me. As the weather has changed I've found my optimism about the whole trip shifting rapidly. Yesterday at Jeri's diner, I spent a few minutes calculating the minimum number of miles per day I need to ride so that I  can still get back before classes start. (just over 70 if you were curious with 4 zero days) Today I was seriously considering skipping my first rest day in Carbondale tomorrow and just continuing on. Even after 110 miles, I still felt fresh. Also, side note, today should have only been about a 100 mile day. Around Goreville I made an unplanned 8 mile detour before I realized I had missed a turn off main street. A saying on the trail is "Bike your own bike" (adapted from the AT's hike your own hike) and it means that you shouldn't let anyone else tell you the "correct" way to do your trip. In light of that wisdom, I'm not going to say I got temporarily lost, I'm going to say that I "included 8 miles of off route scenery in my ride today."

A little more in that vein, Virginia was beautifully signed for route 76, all the way across (with one exception outside of C'ville). Every turn was signed with an arrow, and once you had made the turn there was usually a sign confirming that you were on the right path. In Kentucky things were still reasonably good. There were USBR76 signs at almost every major intersection and you could always turn around after you made a turn to confirm that there was an Eastbound sign on your new road, going the other direction. Illinois, on the other hand, seems to be a crapshoot. They DO have bike route signs all over the place, but they're the generic "designated bike route" signs that could pertain to any small state trail. Additionally, the planning for sign placement is hilarious, there's no rhyme or reason to it. Today I made a right turn onto a highway and then knew to look for an immediate left turn off the road because my map said so. Sure enough, there was a small sloped path that I managed to catch because I was looking for it. 100 meters down the path, around a corner and hidden in the trees was a bike route sign. It seemed to say "glad you figured that bit of trickery out on your own."

I got into Carbondale around 6pm, washed up at a McDonalds, ate at a pizza place and started to walk around. I ran into a similar problem to the one I had in Lexington where I didn't have anywhere to sleep, and couldn't really just crash by the side of the road because the police would wake me up and make me move. Fortunately, I talked to a kind police officer who told me about a bench in a dark spot behind an abandoned strip mall which he agreed to conveniently not check for the night. I've decided I'm going to take my first zero day here in Carbondale tomorrow to head off some of the fatigue I've been dealing with after pushing hard through these hot afternoons. I also have to apply for next year's financial aid and get some tune-ups done on my bike, so it's as much of a logistical stop as anything. On the upside, it means I have a little more leeway with my bedtime tonight, which is awesome because there was a free concert in the park!

When I showed my ID and entered the concert, there seemed to be a lot of police around and one of them seemed like he was eyeballing me. I figured that was just my imagination, so I turned around to ask the gate-guy who had taken my backpack if I could chug my water bottle before I entered. Suddenly there were four officers flanking me and the one who was eyeballing me came up to ask for my ID and question me. Apparently they were looking for a tall blonde kid with a wimpy beard and I fit the description. At least I had a good alibi, my UVA med school ID, AZ driver's license and backpack loaded with cycling/camping gear were enough to convince them that I was just another crazy guy on a bike.

Also at the concert, I met a girl named Desiree who used to work as an EMT / nurse and is now coming back to college here in Carbondale for a little different career direction. We talked for a couple hours and after the concert ended, she offered to show me around town, taking me to a few of the local bars and eateries and introducing me to a bunch of the folks she knew. She's also kindly letting me crash at her place tonight, so as tempting as that dark bench behind the abandoned strip mall sounded, I'm going to give it a miss.

This evening is shaping up to be a good one, so I'm going to cut out here and say G'night!

Day 14

Mileage: 70
Total mileage: 1073

I'm melting! Seriously, there's a crazy heat wave going through here and it's ridiculous. Wish I could buy a thunderstorm to cool things off.

This morning I rode from Utica to Glenville to get breakfast, only to find that there weren't any buildings left open in that 'town.' So I went down the road 13 miles to Beech Grove to find that the closest thing to a restaurant there was a gas station. Fortunately, the gas stations in this part of the world are able to whip up an order of eight eggs over easy with sausage and a biscuit like it's a normal thing, only ran me a little over 6 bucks. There are some things that are really nice about Kentucky!

I was able to put on a solid 50 miles today in the morning before things started to heat up. Unfortunately, I forgot that my 6am early start isn't as early as it usually is, since I gained an hour yesterday crossing over into central time. By noon I was going through a water bottle every 4 miles just to keep up with the sweat dripping off me.

I  slogged into the small town of Clay around 1p and stopped at the one restaurant for lunch. Before I could sit down I had to stand in their entryway for a good 2 minutes to let all the sweat drip off. I must have looked absolutely terrible because a gentleman named Norman started talking to me about the usual stuff (where from, going, why?) and then randomly decided to pay for my dinner which was incredible generous of him, especially considering what I was eating.

I took my sweet time finishing lunch in the air conditioned restaurant and then the owner even let me go into his adjoining sports bar and take an hour long nap on his tile floor.

The last 22 miles of the day were absolutely brutal. It wasn't particularly hard climbing or a difficult road, it was just survival in the heat and humidity. I filled up my reserve jug with water before leaving Clay, and had gone through my bottles and reserve by about 14 miles in. Fortunately there are houses everywhere so it's not really dangerous. I stopped by an old bloke who was mowing his lawn and he topped me off on hose water which got me to town. 

His wife came out though and asked 'When you're riding on a day like this, do you ever think to yourself that you'd rather be home in the air conditioning, eating ice cream?'

Of course I do, but that's mean to say to someone who's got 8 more miles into town. I was going to shoot for the river crossing into Illinois today, but I really want to start tomorrow around 4:45a. Plus, there's an awesome Methodist church here where I'm staying tonight.

Tonight's stop is the most lavish I've enjoyed yet. There was a shower, couches to sleep on and even a wooden ramp up the stairs so I could wheel my bike up instead of carrying it. I took a before and after selfie of me right out of the heat vs me ready for bed.

With my time in Kentucky hopefully ending tomorrow I tried to put together my thoughts on the state today. Specifically I payed careful attention to smells while I was riding. Most of the day I smelled freshly mowed hay and corn. There was a bit of livestock mixed in with one particularly potent poultry house. What's funny though is that everything is tainted a bit by the sickly sweet scent of roadkill. It's everywhere here, at least one animal per mile with even big animals like deer flattened into the pavement. I don't even blink when I see a flock of buzzards on the road ahead anymore.

A quick word on food before I end this. I got to check a mirror today and I think I've lost a little bit of weight, which is fine while I've got pounds to spare but crazy considering what I've been eating. I think today was pretty representative of a normal day so I'll just list what I had quick. Like I mentioned before, breakfast is usually an 8 eggs, sausage and biscuit affair if I can find it. Today, my free lunch consisted of coleslaw with crackers, a dinner roll, loaded baked potato and half a chicken, breaded. Yeah, literally one side of a chicken carcass, I wish I had taken a picture. Dinner is a full pizza with breadsticks on the side. Altogether I've got to be eating 5000 a day which means it's crazy that I'm still losing weight. I'll have to keep an eye on it.

Tomorrow I'm getting aggressive with this heat and starting before 5 so I'll cut it off here. G'night!