Goodbye 2015, Hello 2016!!
10 years ago
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Day 34 and 35: Quincy to Springfield IL to Champaign IL
Corn. Oceans of corn.
Unbelievable how much corn is grown in Southern Illinois. And I expect in Indiana, Ohio and many other places we'll be passing through. The production scale is huge ... Like the wheat in Kansas. It brings home the "breadbasket to the world" and makes that marketing phrase actually believable. Apparently even just 5 years ago you would see a lot more soybeans planted on this route, but ethinol has fueled a huge surge in corn that has all but pushed out other crops.
Yesterday riding the 107 miles between Quincy IL and Springfield we estimated that at least 85 miles of the first hundred were corn miles. Corn tunnels (what I started calling the small rural roads pressed on both sides by corn fields as far as the eye could see deep. Signs identifying the corn as a special genetic modification (like that would fly in Seattle) or as seed corn. Most getting tassels and the rest just knee high. A cool wet spring meant a late planting for most farmers here. Small white houses boxed in by huge oak trees sitting in the middle of huge cornfields. Corn on rolling hills and corn on pancake flat land that stretched for miles. No wonder corn syrup is in so many foods ... We raise enough corn to demand as many potential markets as possible.
Biking both yesterday and today was essentially 200+ miles venturing through corn with the occasional soybean field and pasture land and small town.
To amuse ourselves we invented CORNY jokes like: What do you call a group of cyclists taking pictures of corn? Cornography.
Another entertainment was the various insects that seem to like the hot humid summers around the cornfields. Every now and then you pass through a cloud of gnats and can feel them plastering themselves to your arms and face. You try to remember to wipe those off before grossing out normal people when you head into a cafe or gas station.
Or there are the beatles. Low and slow flying, about half an inch long, they occasionally bounce off your helmet or arm with a THWACK! Occasionally one flies into the vents of your helmet (or better a riding companion), and then it's amusing to watch them trying to get the helmet off and the beetle out while still pedaling 18mph. Nothing like a big bug crawling around in your hair to inspire drastic action. Better is when one flies into your jersey or sports bra ... That generally entails colorful language and groping around in your clothes trying to extract those prickly little buggers while pedaling.
Yep - that's what passes for entertainment biking through 200 miles of corn. Wonder what we'll come up with tomorrow?
But thankfully there were a few non-corn related happenings that broke up our trek east.
In the tiny town of Chapin about 60 miles east of Quincy, Bob and I pulled into to a convenience store for a little caffeine rehabilitation. Parked out front was a very homemade looking recumbent bike. ... Meet Leroy. He's a former navy guy who now is the welder in Chapin. He made this enormous recumbent bike himself, complete with a tie rod to steer, a kick stand, duel rear baskets and a huge hood ornament. The wheels were solid rubber. The handlebars were like those old bars on girls bikes with the banana seat. It must have weighed well over 60 lbs. After duly admiring his wheels, he offered to let me take it for a spin. I couldn't actually reach the pedals, but felt like sitting in a homemade recliner. Both LeRoy and his Bike were a kick.
Springfield, Illinois is all about Abe Lincoln. We got into Springfield in time for me to get a bike repair done (maybe more bad news on the frame around the water bottle connectors) and then to visit Lincoln's house when he was a lawyer and elected to the state legislator and before he won the Presidency. The Park Service had restored a 4 square block area and led tours of the neighborhood and of the Lincolns old house. They had acquired much of the Lincolns furniture that they had sold off prior to moving to DC. Lots of information on the family, their philosophy on raising children ("let them be free of parental tyranny") Mary Lincoln (a hottie from an aristocratic family who was also courted by Lincolns Political Rival Steven Douglas.).
Really interesting is they just discovered some letters that confirm that Lincoln's neighbor 4 doors down was a station master on the underground railroad. The Sheriff lived next door, too. Hard to believe that Lincoln and the Sheriff didn't know about and condone UR activity happening right under their nose ... Wonder what light this can shed on his choices as president. The whole park is really well done - worth a stop through.
Then I headed back to the hotel and cleaned up for a visit from my friend Bryan Dozer who recently moved to St. Louis with his wife. We rode together for many years with Team in Training in Seattle. It was delightful to see him and catch up ... Bryan you look fabulous and clearly this move was a really positive (even though I miss riding with you.)
Today was more corn.
Springfield to Champaign was 98 miles, but it felt pretty easy with a nice tail wind and everyone was pretty mellow and not in a hurry.
We had our first rest stop at a state park where the Lincolns had a cabin when they first moved to Illinois. Then after more corn a second rest stop at a cemetery where another ABB staffer came down to visit and brought yummy watermelon. He hung around through dinner and gave us a little presentation on ... Sex in the Corn Field. Yep ... We learned about how corn reproduces ... It can self pollinate or cross pollinate - which is why corn is planted so closely together. Appropriate to end our corn ride with more corn facts.
Tomorrow we go to Indiana and no doubt pass a lot more corn.
Unbelievable how much corn is grown in Southern Illinois. And I expect in Indiana, Ohio and many other places we'll be passing through. The production scale is huge ... Like the wheat in Kansas. It brings home the "breadbasket to the world" and makes that marketing phrase actually believable. Apparently even just 5 years ago you would see a lot more soybeans planted on this route, but ethinol has fueled a huge surge in corn that has all but pushed out other crops.
Yesterday riding the 107 miles between Quincy IL and Springfield we estimated that at least 85 miles of the first hundred were corn miles. Corn tunnels (what I started calling the small rural roads pressed on both sides by corn fields as far as the eye could see deep. Signs identifying the corn as a special genetic modification (like that would fly in Seattle) or as seed corn. Most getting tassels and the rest just knee high. A cool wet spring meant a late planting for most farmers here. Small white houses boxed in by huge oak trees sitting in the middle of huge cornfields. Corn on rolling hills and corn on pancake flat land that stretched for miles. No wonder corn syrup is in so many foods ... We raise enough corn to demand as many potential markets as possible.
Biking both yesterday and today was essentially 200+ miles venturing through corn with the occasional soybean field and pasture land and small town.
To amuse ourselves we invented CORNY jokes like: What do you call a group of cyclists taking pictures of corn? Cornography.
Another entertainment was the various insects that seem to like the hot humid summers around the cornfields. Every now and then you pass through a cloud of gnats and can feel them plastering themselves to your arms and face. You try to remember to wipe those off before grossing out normal people when you head into a cafe or gas station.
Or there are the beatles. Low and slow flying, about half an inch long, they occasionally bounce off your helmet or arm with a THWACK! Occasionally one flies into the vents of your helmet (or better a riding companion), and then it's amusing to watch them trying to get the helmet off and the beetle out while still pedaling 18mph. Nothing like a big bug crawling around in your hair to inspire drastic action. Better is when one flies into your jersey or sports bra ... That generally entails colorful language and groping around in your clothes trying to extract those prickly little buggers while pedaling.
Yep - that's what passes for entertainment biking through 200 miles of corn. Wonder what we'll come up with tomorrow?
But thankfully there were a few non-corn related happenings that broke up our trek east.
In the tiny town of Chapin about 60 miles east of Quincy, Bob and I pulled into to a convenience store for a little caffeine rehabilitation. Parked out front was a very homemade looking recumbent bike. ... Meet Leroy. He's a former navy guy who now is the welder in Chapin. He made this enormous recumbent bike himself, complete with a tie rod to steer, a kick stand, duel rear baskets and a huge hood ornament. The wheels were solid rubber. The handlebars were like those old bars on girls bikes with the banana seat. It must have weighed well over 60 lbs. After duly admiring his wheels, he offered to let me take it for a spin. I couldn't actually reach the pedals, but felt like sitting in a homemade recliner. Both LeRoy and his Bike were a kick.
Springfield, Illinois is all about Abe Lincoln. We got into Springfield in time for me to get a bike repair done (maybe more bad news on the frame around the water bottle connectors) and then to visit Lincoln's house when he was a lawyer and elected to the state legislator and before he won the Presidency. The Park Service had restored a 4 square block area and led tours of the neighborhood and of the Lincolns old house. They had acquired much of the Lincolns furniture that they had sold off prior to moving to DC. Lots of information on the family, their philosophy on raising children ("let them be free of parental tyranny") Mary Lincoln (a hottie from an aristocratic family who was also courted by Lincolns Political Rival Steven Douglas.).
Really interesting is they just discovered some letters that confirm that Lincoln's neighbor 4 doors down was a station master on the underground railroad. The Sheriff lived next door, too. Hard to believe that Lincoln and the Sheriff didn't know about and condone UR activity happening right under their nose ... Wonder what light this can shed on his choices as president. The whole park is really well done - worth a stop through.
Then I headed back to the hotel and cleaned up for a visit from my friend Bryan Dozer who recently moved to St. Louis with his wife. We rode together for many years with Team in Training in Seattle. It was delightful to see him and catch up ... Bryan you look fabulous and clearly this move was a really positive (even though I miss riding with you.)
Today was more corn.
Springfield to Champaign was 98 miles, but it felt pretty easy with a nice tail wind and everyone was pretty mellow and not in a hurry.
We had our first rest stop at a state park where the Lincolns had a cabin when they first moved to Illinois. Then after more corn a second rest stop at a cemetery where another ABB staffer came down to visit and brought yummy watermelon. He hung around through dinner and gave us a little presentation on ... Sex in the Corn Field. Yep ... We learned about how corn reproduces ... It can self pollinate or cross pollinate - which is why corn is planted so closely together. Appropriate to end our corn ride with more corn facts.
Tomorrow we go to Indiana and no doubt pass a lot more corn.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Day 33: Kirksville Missouri to Quincy, IL
Yesterday I overdid it a bit. And today I could really feel it.
Basically it was laziness, in a twisted sort of way. Tons of hills the last couple of days. Climbing these kind of hills in a smart way requires really working your gears. You want to maintain a steady rapid cadence so you are pedaling consistently - ideally around 90 revolutions per minute. To do this on hills, you have to work your gears constantly to make it easier to pedal when you are climbing and harder when descending.
Basically I just started short cutting it and would just stand up in the pedals and mash up the climbs rather than pay attention and do the shifting. This is fine for a bit, and fine if you can rest the next day. But it really strains your muscles, and riding nearly 100 miles day after day taxes your reserve strength. Especially for me - I tend to mostly sit and spin and rarely stand to climb so some of those muscles aren't as strong as they could be anyway. So there were two 85 mile days with serious mashing that took a toll.
To top it off I didn't get my ice bath last night because the tub was draining slow which usually means something nasty is down there and I just didn't have the stomach to clean the drain and then hunt down the disinfectant from housekeeping to sanitize the tub (like a few days ago ... Yuck.)
So when today rolled around I knew I was going to hurt after the first couple of miles. Muscles on the left side cramped and tightened and pulled into my lower back and side making the back hurt. So you stretch and contort and twist on bike while riding while making complaining grunting noises. My more spry riding companions totally outpaced me today. But that's OK cause my body is demanding I slow down and behave on the hills ...
And there were plenty as we finished Missouri before dropping into the Mississippi river flood plane 70 miles into a 97 mile ride.
Today we rode a gorgeous set of small country roads through pasture land, corn and soybean fields and farms. We passed through several more Mennonite and Amish towns and I was pretty amused seeing a teenage girl in dress, apron and cap sitting on a riding lawnmower mowing the field. She looked as surprised to see us ride by as we were to see her. The clouds and fog in the morning turned into a comfortable riding day and full on sun by mid afternoon. It was quiet and peaceful for the 70 miles heading east to the Miss river ... A good day to meditate in the saddle and enjoy just being out.
We passed through some tiny towns - Barring was one and it was sobering. There was once a big hotel there that had fallen into disrepair and other buildings on main street that were almost falling down.
Finally we dropped down into Canton, a small river town where we caught a ferry to the Illinois side of the Mississippi. The ferry took about 10 minutes to cross and just ran back and forth continually. It was a small little boat with a flat deck that sat low to the water and an engineers cabin that was attached to the deck by an arm ... The engineers cabin just rotated around to push the ferry in one direction and then back across.
On the Illinois side we were greeted by a dirt road that led to a big grain silo that was a co-op for the county ... No grand hoopla for entering the state in this direction.
We rode south through the Miss River flood plain for 15 miles - pancake flat - with the ridge that was at one point the rivers edge rising several hundred feet on our left. The flood plain was planted entirely with corn for miles. Gradually we paralleled the river again and followed it south past several parks to Quincy. The river was running gently, very muddy and brown, and I was surprised how narrow it is this far north.
Quincy is an old river town known for its architecture. We ran into a woman who is a cyclist and she gave us hints about where to find the bike shop and suggested we ride through the neighborhoods and check out the historic houses off Maine Street. I did, and they were beautiful, huge and impressive. The money here came from the railroad - the bridge west to Kansas City and beyond came through Quincy and combined with steamboat traffic it made this the second largest city in Illinois in the late 1800s.
An extra long ice bath tonight has made the muscles feel better - hopefully up for a 110 mile ride to Springfield tomorrow.
Basically it was laziness, in a twisted sort of way. Tons of hills the last couple of days. Climbing these kind of hills in a smart way requires really working your gears. You want to maintain a steady rapid cadence so you are pedaling consistently - ideally around 90 revolutions per minute. To do this on hills, you have to work your gears constantly to make it easier to pedal when you are climbing and harder when descending.
Basically I just started short cutting it and would just stand up in the pedals and mash up the climbs rather than pay attention and do the shifting. This is fine for a bit, and fine if you can rest the next day. But it really strains your muscles, and riding nearly 100 miles day after day taxes your reserve strength. Especially for me - I tend to mostly sit and spin and rarely stand to climb so some of those muscles aren't as strong as they could be anyway. So there were two 85 mile days with serious mashing that took a toll.
To top it off I didn't get my ice bath last night because the tub was draining slow which usually means something nasty is down there and I just didn't have the stomach to clean the drain and then hunt down the disinfectant from housekeeping to sanitize the tub (like a few days ago ... Yuck.)
So when today rolled around I knew I was going to hurt after the first couple of miles. Muscles on the left side cramped and tightened and pulled into my lower back and side making the back hurt. So you stretch and contort and twist on bike while riding while making complaining grunting noises. My more spry riding companions totally outpaced me today. But that's OK cause my body is demanding I slow down and behave on the hills ...
And there were plenty as we finished Missouri before dropping into the Mississippi river flood plane 70 miles into a 97 mile ride.
Today we rode a gorgeous set of small country roads through pasture land, corn and soybean fields and farms. We passed through several more Mennonite and Amish towns and I was pretty amused seeing a teenage girl in dress, apron and cap sitting on a riding lawnmower mowing the field. She looked as surprised to see us ride by as we were to see her. The clouds and fog in the morning turned into a comfortable riding day and full on sun by mid afternoon. It was quiet and peaceful for the 70 miles heading east to the Miss river ... A good day to meditate in the saddle and enjoy just being out.
We passed through some tiny towns - Barring was one and it was sobering. There was once a big hotel there that had fallen into disrepair and other buildings on main street that were almost falling down.
Finally we dropped down into Canton, a small river town where we caught a ferry to the Illinois side of the Mississippi. The ferry took about 10 minutes to cross and just ran back and forth continually. It was a small little boat with a flat deck that sat low to the water and an engineers cabin that was attached to the deck by an arm ... The engineers cabin just rotated around to push the ferry in one direction and then back across.
On the Illinois side we were greeted by a dirt road that led to a big grain silo that was a co-op for the county ... No grand hoopla for entering the state in this direction.
We rode south through the Miss River flood plain for 15 miles - pancake flat - with the ridge that was at one point the rivers edge rising several hundred feet on our left. The flood plain was planted entirely with corn for miles. Gradually we paralleled the river again and followed it south past several parks to Quincy. The river was running gently, very muddy and brown, and I was surprised how narrow it is this far north.
Quincy is an old river town known for its architecture. We ran into a woman who is a cyclist and she gave us hints about where to find the bike shop and suggested we ride through the neighborhoods and check out the historic houses off Maine Street. I did, and they were beautiful, huge and impressive. The money here came from the railroad - the bridge west to Kansas City and beyond came through Quincy and combined with steamboat traffic it made this the second largest city in Illinois in the late 1800s.
An extra long ice bath tonight has made the muscles feel better - hopefully up for a 110 mile ride to Springfield tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Day 32: Chillicothe to Kirksville MO
The show me state was showing off today.
Wildflowers were blooming like mad on an incredibly beautiful and extremely hilly 85 mile ride. Green pasture land, flower coated hillsides and farms with stately old white houses and occasional crumbling barns just kept coming all day. We were on narrow country roads. Flowers lined the road and coated fields - many which looked like mottled patches of green, red and yellow.
Lots of new wildflowers out today: yellow snap dragons, pink echinasia, and many others in purples, pinks and yellows.
The morning light and sky were beautiful and lasted much longer than usual making it a great morning for photography. The sky and clouds were layered with white fluffy clouds, some heavier and grey threatening rain and high thin clouds that looked like stretched cotton making curving soft streaks.
Basically the day was ride, stop, photo, ride, stop, photo. No speed records.
And climb. Lots of steep climbs (between 8 to 14% grade). We climbed about 4400 feet today. There is a park just outside of Kirksville called Thousand Hills State Park ... Aptly named. Someone claims they counted 146 hills ... Believable.
Our first rest top was in Linneus (population 346) about 35 miles into the ride. Next to where our van was set up was an old house
with "Jail Museum" on a sign out front. Turns out this house was the home of Linn County sheriffs from the late 1800s through the 1970s ... and it had the men and women's jail built into the house.
The sheriff and his family lived in the house. The wife also cooked for the prisoners. The men's cells were built into a large walled off reinforced room in the middle of the house directly behind the house foyer. We talked them into letting us down for a look and there were heavy metal cages built into two walls with bunk beds, graffiti and toilets. We of course staged photos locked in the cells. There was open space outside the cells with a sink, mirror and bench. The rest of the space was filled with junk being stored.
The women were kept upstairs and their rooms had iron bars over the outside of the window. One of the local museum committee ladies was telling me that women prisoners liked to shout down and scare the kids walking by when she was a girl.
The local Museum Committee had successfully gotten their jail added to the national historic building registry and were trying to raise the money to restore it. Currently they are $800 short of restoring the Sheriff's office. I was over hearing them discussing who was going to talk to the mayor about getting information on their fund-raiser in the next months utility bills mailing and how they were going to have to work around the secretary who didn't want to fold extra papers for the mailing. It's funny but I've heard the same conversation with local school districts trying to publicize their local events in WA.
I dropped a donation in the jar, but if this intrigues you consider a donation to the project. Linneus Historical Museum, 101 N. Main Street, Linneus, MO 64653.
When we got into Kirksville Bob and I still had some energy and so we kept riding downtown. Turns out Kirksville is a 2 college town - a med school (osteopathic) and a liberal arts college. The town is a funky mix of old downtown stores and diners that have been there forever and coffee shops and tattoo parlors for the college kids. The courthouse fills the main square and there are 4 historical plaques on each corner - double sided - you have to walk to the back to finish reading them. Most interesting was the "cyclone" i.e. tornado of 1899 that retells stories of women seeing white horses in the same funnel cloud, babies being found cooing 400 yards from its house and a horse still tied up to a post unharmed when the barn around it was picked up and destroyed. Less entertaining but probably more factual is that Kirksville was the site of the Civil War battle that let the Union secure northern Missouri. The town fell in 3 hours to Union troops.
Tomorrow we cross the Mississippi River and leave Missouri. Illinois has a hard act to follow after all the beautiful miles the last few days.
Wildflowers were blooming like mad on an incredibly beautiful and extremely hilly 85 mile ride. Green pasture land, flower coated hillsides and farms with stately old white houses and occasional crumbling barns just kept coming all day. We were on narrow country roads. Flowers lined the road and coated fields - many which looked like mottled patches of green, red and yellow.
Lots of new wildflowers out today: yellow snap dragons, pink echinasia, and many others in purples, pinks and yellows.
The morning light and sky were beautiful and lasted much longer than usual making it a great morning for photography. The sky and clouds were layered with white fluffy clouds, some heavier and grey threatening rain and high thin clouds that looked like stretched cotton making curving soft streaks.
Basically the day was ride, stop, photo, ride, stop, photo. No speed records.
And climb. Lots of steep climbs (between 8 to 14% grade). We climbed about 4400 feet today. There is a park just outside of Kirksville called Thousand Hills State Park ... Aptly named. Someone claims they counted 146 hills ... Believable.
Our first rest top was in Linneus (population 346) about 35 miles into the ride. Next to where our van was set up was an old house
with "Jail Museum" on a sign out front. Turns out this house was the home of Linn County sheriffs from the late 1800s through the 1970s ... and it had the men and women's jail built into the house.
The sheriff and his family lived in the house. The wife also cooked for the prisoners. The men's cells were built into a large walled off reinforced room in the middle of the house directly behind the house foyer. We talked them into letting us down for a look and there were heavy metal cages built into two walls with bunk beds, graffiti and toilets. We of course staged photos locked in the cells. There was open space outside the cells with a sink, mirror and bench. The rest of the space was filled with junk being stored.
The women were kept upstairs and their rooms had iron bars over the outside of the window. One of the local museum committee ladies was telling me that women prisoners liked to shout down and scare the kids walking by when she was a girl.
The local Museum Committee had successfully gotten their jail added to the national historic building registry and were trying to raise the money to restore it. Currently they are $800 short of restoring the Sheriff's office. I was over hearing them discussing who was going to talk to the mayor about getting information on their fund-raiser in the next months utility bills mailing and how they were going to have to work around the secretary who didn't want to fold extra papers for the mailing. It's funny but I've heard the same conversation with local school districts trying to publicize their local events in WA.
I dropped a donation in the jar, but if this intrigues you consider a donation to the project. Linneus Historical Museum, 101 N. Main Street, Linneus, MO 64653.
When we got into Kirksville Bob and I still had some energy and so we kept riding downtown. Turns out Kirksville is a 2 college town - a med school (osteopathic) and a liberal arts college. The town is a funky mix of old downtown stores and diners that have been there forever and coffee shops and tattoo parlors for the college kids. The courthouse fills the main square and there are 4 historical plaques on each corner - double sided - you have to walk to the back to finish reading them. Most interesting was the "cyclone" i.e. tornado of 1899 that retells stories of women seeing white horses in the same funnel cloud, babies being found cooing 400 yards from its house and a horse still tied up to a post unharmed when the barn around it was picked up and destroyed. Less entertaining but probably more factual is that Kirksville was the site of the Civil War battle that let the Union secure northern Missouri. The town fell in 3 hours to Union troops.
Tomorrow we cross the Mississippi River and leave Missouri. Illinois has a hard act to follow after all the beautiful miles the last few days.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Day 31: St. Joseph to Chillicothe, MO (wildflowers and Amish country)
Between enormous crop sprayer coops that stood a couple of stories off the road and had extendable arms going out up to 120 yards, and bearded men driving horse and buggies, we had interesting company on the road today.
I only know the enormous, tall tractor things were sprayer coops because the very nice woman who owned the frozen custard shop in Jamesport told us so.
Today we biked 89 miles east through Amish Country. It was an interesting contrast between the first 50 miles of farmland, tractors, sprayers, trucks and the land around Jamesport with horse and buggies on the roads and flat carts pulled by enormous draft horses sitting in yards.
Amanda at the custard shop told us there were around 1600 Amish in the Jamesport area. She grew up there and looks at her Amish neighbors as anyone else. Ahead of us in line was a young Amish man. As we were chatting after he left she told us that he already had 4 daughters, and only a year ago their house burned down with the family sleeping around the stove in the lower floors to stay warm. He barely escaped with one of the kids before the top floor collapsed in on the house. In a month the Amish community had dropped everything and rebuilt their home. It's obviously a community that looks after each other.
Beautiful ride today - rolling hills, corn and soybeans, pastures. A couple of mangy, bike chasing dogs kept things lively though I never had to deploy the water bottle squirt method of dog repellent.
And we had the best wildflowers I've seen yet. Huge fields of what looked like Queen Annes Lace or white yarrow. Yellow black eye susans. Purple thistle. Pink clover. Great purple flowers Bob looked up and identified as Chicory.
I had fun playing with photos to try and capture the color of the flowers with the green of the fields.
The roads were narrow, low traffic and rolling hills. Often no shoulders, but very fun and relaxing to ride on. As we head east there are simply more roads to ride on ... I was thinking of how much more anxiety there is riding on trafficky roads that you don't even realize you are managing until you are off them. It's like a burden off. A lot fewer flats, too.
Tomorrow we have what sounds like a beautiful ride north east to Kirksville on little county roads with tons of hills.
I only know the enormous, tall tractor things were sprayer coops because the very nice woman who owned the frozen custard shop in Jamesport told us so.
Today we biked 89 miles east through Amish Country. It was an interesting contrast between the first 50 miles of farmland, tractors, sprayers, trucks and the land around Jamesport with horse and buggies on the roads and flat carts pulled by enormous draft horses sitting in yards.
Amanda at the custard shop told us there were around 1600 Amish in the Jamesport area. She grew up there and looks at her Amish neighbors as anyone else. Ahead of us in line was a young Amish man. As we were chatting after he left she told us that he already had 4 daughters, and only a year ago their house burned down with the family sleeping around the stove in the lower floors to stay warm. He barely escaped with one of the kids before the top floor collapsed in on the house. In a month the Amish community had dropped everything and rebuilt their home. It's obviously a community that looks after each other.
Beautiful ride today - rolling hills, corn and soybeans, pastures. A couple of mangy, bike chasing dogs kept things lively though I never had to deploy the water bottle squirt method of dog repellent.
And we had the best wildflowers I've seen yet. Huge fields of what looked like Queen Annes Lace or white yarrow. Yellow black eye susans. Purple thistle. Pink clover. Great purple flowers Bob looked up and identified as Chicory.
I had fun playing with photos to try and capture the color of the flowers with the green of the fields.
The roads were narrow, low traffic and rolling hills. Often no shoulders, but very fun and relaxing to ride on. As we head east there are simply more roads to ride on ... I was thinking of how much more anxiety there is riding on trafficky roads that you don't even realize you are managing until you are off them. It's like a burden off. A lot fewer flats, too.
Tomorrow we have what sounds like a beautiful ride north east to Kirksville on little county roads with tons of hills.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Day 29 and 30: Topeka to St. Joseph MO and Rest Day in St. Joseph
Missouri feels like the South.
It's not just the humidity, though that's certainly part of it. It's the people. I spent my rest day today doing anything but resting ... touring around St. Joseph and visiting the Psychiatric and St. Joseph Museums, Jessie James house where he was killed and the Patee House museum where the Pony Express was headquartered and walking through a downtown of condemned beautiful old mansions and buildings that fell apart after all commerce moved to strip malls by the interstate. But we won't talk about what's wrong with American Urban Development. Overall, St. Joseph is an interesting place to visit. Worth a stop if you're heading through there.
In between touring around I got the 3rd worst massage of my life (The two worse were Mr. Thumbs and the woman who cried through the whole massage because her boyfriend had just broken up with her.) This one the woman was incredibly nice, so thrilled to have us (Meiri and I) in, and just unfortunately poorly trained, for some reason skipped pretty important anatomical parts needing a little help, and pretty heavy on the oil. The rest of the day roaming around downtown I felt like the oil only enhanced my simmering in the hot, humid heat - stick a fork in me already.
But what really stood out today were all the random interactions with people. These St. Joseph folks are talkers. First there was the cab driver who told us how awful this town was and how he got stuck here. How? Well ... He was working the fishing boats out of Seattle and then his former high school girlfriend who just got divorced started writing to him. So he moved to St. Joe as he wanted to retire from fishing anyway while he still "had all my fingers and toes" and moved in with her. But that didn't work out ... apparently when her ex got remarried she went to his wedding dressed in a black dress and veil. (Meiri and I told him we thought he dodged a bullet there with that gal.) Then he met his current wife, married her and got stuck. But it must not be too bad because they spent all last summer riding motorcycles all over the west, and hoped to ride out with 2000+ Harley riders who are retracing the Pony Express route in September. (In case you are interested in that kind of thing).
This happened all day. The very nice lady who gave me a massage insisted on driving Mieri and I to where we where having lunch so we didn't have to walk in the heat - so we cramped into her tiny font seat in the pickup truck for a 2 mile drive. Very sweet.
The lady at the fabric shop initiated an extensive consultation on how to best repair the hole in my bike shorts that involved all the staff and a few customers in the store.
So an interesting day.
Getting here from Topeka was a beautiful ride - and quite challenging. Hills all the way - not huge climbs but enough to keep you working. I was pooped at the end ...
We rode through farmland and pastureland for the first 40 miles of our 85 miles ride. There was rain the first 10 miles and a steady headwind all the way to the Missouri River when we turned north.
A highlight was the town of Atchison on the Kansas side of the MO river. It is the birthplace of Amelia Earhart (born at her grandparents) and while her home was closed for tour it was a beautiful large home on a bluff overlooking the MO river. There were other beautiful old houses and mansions in the historic town on brick streets lined with large oak trees. Lovely town. A wonderful riverfront park ran for miles up from the town with a Lewis and Clark interpretive area (they landed here) and a bike and footpath filled with locals taking walks or rides. A great little town.
I crossed the river on a dicey bridge where some dumb head decided it would be fun to start a conversation while driving past me on the bridge. Jeez.
And then met up with the group I was riding with and we headed north up the east side of the river towards St. Joseph. Very hilly, tired legs, beautiful country.
Now that we are in Missouri I feel like we are truly close to the end of the trip - even though we are just over half way. Vital stats so far: Approx 2100 miles ridden. 85,000 feet of climbing, 101,000 calories burned.
It's not just the humidity, though that's certainly part of it. It's the people. I spent my rest day today doing anything but resting ... touring around St. Joseph and visiting the Psychiatric and St. Joseph Museums, Jessie James house where he was killed and the Patee House museum where the Pony Express was headquartered and walking through a downtown of condemned beautiful old mansions and buildings that fell apart after all commerce moved to strip malls by the interstate. But we won't talk about what's wrong with American Urban Development. Overall, St. Joseph is an interesting place to visit. Worth a stop if you're heading through there.
In between touring around I got the 3rd worst massage of my life (The two worse were Mr. Thumbs and the woman who cried through the whole massage because her boyfriend had just broken up with her.) This one the woman was incredibly nice, so thrilled to have us (Meiri and I) in, and just unfortunately poorly trained, for some reason skipped pretty important anatomical parts needing a little help, and pretty heavy on the oil. The rest of the day roaming around downtown I felt like the oil only enhanced my simmering in the hot, humid heat - stick a fork in me already.
But what really stood out today were all the random interactions with people. These St. Joseph folks are talkers. First there was the cab driver who told us how awful this town was and how he got stuck here. How? Well ... He was working the fishing boats out of Seattle and then his former high school girlfriend who just got divorced started writing to him. So he moved to St. Joe as he wanted to retire from fishing anyway while he still "had all my fingers and toes" and moved in with her. But that didn't work out ... apparently when her ex got remarried she went to his wedding dressed in a black dress and veil. (Meiri and I told him we thought he dodged a bullet there with that gal.) Then he met his current wife, married her and got stuck. But it must not be too bad because they spent all last summer riding motorcycles all over the west, and hoped to ride out with 2000+ Harley riders who are retracing the Pony Express route in September. (In case you are interested in that kind of thing).
This happened all day. The very nice lady who gave me a massage insisted on driving Mieri and I to where we where having lunch so we didn't have to walk in the heat - so we cramped into her tiny font seat in the pickup truck for a 2 mile drive. Very sweet.
The lady at the fabric shop initiated an extensive consultation on how to best repair the hole in my bike shorts that involved all the staff and a few customers in the store.
So an interesting day.
Getting here from Topeka was a beautiful ride - and quite challenging. Hills all the way - not huge climbs but enough to keep you working. I was pooped at the end ...
We rode through farmland and pastureland for the first 40 miles of our 85 miles ride. There was rain the first 10 miles and a steady headwind all the way to the Missouri River when we turned north.
A highlight was the town of Atchison on the Kansas side of the MO river. It is the birthplace of Amelia Earhart (born at her grandparents) and while her home was closed for tour it was a beautiful large home on a bluff overlooking the MO river. There were other beautiful old houses and mansions in the historic town on brick streets lined with large oak trees. Lovely town. A wonderful riverfront park ran for miles up from the town with a Lewis and Clark interpretive area (they landed here) and a bike and footpath filled with locals taking walks or rides. A great little town.
I crossed the river on a dicey bridge where some dumb head decided it would be fun to start a conversation while driving past me on the bridge. Jeez.
And then met up with the group I was riding with and we headed north up the east side of the river towards St. Joseph. Very hilly, tired legs, beautiful country.
Now that we are in Missouri I feel like we are truly close to the end of the trip - even though we are just over half way. Vital stats so far: Approx 2100 miles ridden. 85,000 feet of climbing, 101,000 calories burned.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Day 27: Abilene to Topeka (July 4th celebrations, tornados and tallgrass prairie)
Got some excitement last night when the tornado warning sirens start to wail.
Of course I rush to the window ... I mean if one is going to take me out I at least want to see it first.
A big thunderstorm had come through just north of Abilene. We're surfing around for information listening for the roar of a freight train that would signal running for the bath tub for cover. Word of a touchdown due west of Abilene and heading East ... Everyone on the top floor of the hotel came to the lobby. People came in off the roads to wait out the storm - it was blowing hard, pounding rain and lightening was popping. Very exciting.
Then it passed. And I went to sleep.
Gorgeous and very fun ride today. 108 miles and we finally broke out of flat farm lands into rolling hills that turned into the Flint Hills, the largest remaining preserved tall grass prairie. It was beautiful, emerald green rolling hills and valleys, wildflowers. Locusts sang from the trees so loudly we couldn't believe the sound came from insects. Check out the National Geographic spread and photos
http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2007/04/tallgrass-prairie/klinkenborg-text.html
Cattle rule here - acres dining on beautiful tall prairie grass - a very different site than the cattle stuffed in feedlots near Dodge destined for Big Macs. Here people take pride in their animals and have their name on the farm with Hereford breeders on a sign in the front.
The rolling hills - so fun to ride as you fly down a hill and try to keep up momentum to reach the top of the next roller with minimal effort - becomes a game and it's own rhythm.
As the rollers became actual hills that required buckling down into climbs. the terrain became more rugged, more green (an unbelievable emerald green of healthy vibrant grass), less cattle, more open prairie. It was exquisite. Totally recommend anyone take a trip to this area. Who could think grass could be so beautiful? It's such a shame it's gone now. You can imagine the buffalo and prairie critters running amuck. It just looks like bounty. You can see why settlers were so eager to plow it under and plant but if you've read Tim Egan's The Worst Hard Time (you should) you know that the green prairie grass and ecosystem can't sustain the rigors of agriculture easily (i.e. dust bowl). As I rode through here I also kept thinking of Willa Cather's My Antonia which I'd not like to go back and read again.
We passed through many small towns decorated for Independence Day. Flags hung from the light posts of 4 block main street in White City. Bunting from the town Gazebo in Dwight was set up ready to host the afternoons celebration. We stopped in Eskridge at their main park where there were picnics, 3 legged races and other games for the kids and local folks on a squealing speaker singing from the gazebo. Bob looked over at Hans from Switzerland and said "see Hans. This is what 4th of July is about. Community and family getting together to celebrate for a day."
Of course I rush to the window ... I mean if one is going to take me out I at least want to see it first.
A big thunderstorm had come through just north of Abilene. We're surfing around for information listening for the roar of a freight train that would signal running for the bath tub for cover. Word of a touchdown due west of Abilene and heading East ... Everyone on the top floor of the hotel came to the lobby. People came in off the roads to wait out the storm - it was blowing hard, pounding rain and lightening was popping. Very exciting.
Then it passed. And I went to sleep.
Gorgeous and very fun ride today. 108 miles and we finally broke out of flat farm lands into rolling hills that turned into the Flint Hills, the largest remaining preserved tall grass prairie. It was beautiful, emerald green rolling hills and valleys, wildflowers. Locusts sang from the trees so loudly we couldn't believe the sound came from insects. Check out the National Geographic spread and photos
http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2007/04/tallgrass-prairie/klinkenborg-text.html
Cattle rule here - acres dining on beautiful tall prairie grass - a very different site than the cattle stuffed in feedlots near Dodge destined for Big Macs. Here people take pride in their animals and have their name on the farm with Hereford breeders on a sign in the front.
The rolling hills - so fun to ride as you fly down a hill and try to keep up momentum to reach the top of the next roller with minimal effort - becomes a game and it's own rhythm.
As the rollers became actual hills that required buckling down into climbs. the terrain became more rugged, more green (an unbelievable emerald green of healthy vibrant grass), less cattle, more open prairie. It was exquisite. Totally recommend anyone take a trip to this area. Who could think grass could be so beautiful? It's such a shame it's gone now. You can imagine the buffalo and prairie critters running amuck. It just looks like bounty. You can see why settlers were so eager to plow it under and plant but if you've read Tim Egan's The Worst Hard Time (you should) you know that the green prairie grass and ecosystem can't sustain the rigors of agriculture easily (i.e. dust bowl). As I rode through here I also kept thinking of Willa Cather's My Antonia which I'd not like to go back and read again.
We passed through many small towns decorated for Independence Day. Flags hung from the light posts of 4 block main street in White City. Bunting from the town Gazebo in Dwight was set up ready to host the afternoons celebration. We stopped in Eskridge at their main park where there were picnics, 3 legged races and other games for the kids and local folks on a squealing speaker singing from the gazebo. Bob looked over at Hans from Switzerland and said "see Hans. This is what 4th of July is about. Community and family getting together to celebrate for a day."
Friday, July 3, 2009
Day 26: McPherson to Abilene, KS - HALFWAY POINT
Dinner lately has been pretty blah. It's not hard to please this crowd ... give us edible food and lots of it. An occasional vegetable is bonus. But lately it's been pretty tiresome - the same restaurant in different cities three nights in a row. Insurrection was brewing.
Tonight we were fortunate that the restaurant where we were supposed to have dinner was closed up for the month of July. So instead we went to this old 1870s hotel turned restaurant that was great. Family style, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, biscuits and gravy ...
As we were elbows spread on the table chowing on chicken the waitress came by and said - would you like some more sides? No? OK I'll bring you the rest of your chicken. Huh? Our eyes got huge ... you get half a chicken each. Wow. I started to look around me at the other patrons of this restaurant ... they were all very large people. Several of our crowd rose the chicken challenge, but I was thinking it's really incredible how much food gets served in the restaurants that the majority of Americans frequent. In many ways places like the Golden Trough (Corral) and Sizzler with its huge salad bar and spread of food works is mainstay for most Americans, while for most of us they are places we haven't gone in years.
Today was a beautiful and fun ride. We were on country roads winding North and East. Going North we had a partial fabulous tailwind. Going East we had a whopping angled headwind. Tree flapping, grass laid flat headwind. Make yourself as small as possible on the bike in the aerobars to minimize the wind. But that's OK - it was still a fun ride. At this point very little is phasing me on the bike - you just hunker down and ride through it.
We are in farm land. It looks a lot more like the east coast now that the plains. More trees. Smaller fields. I watched a farmer loading up huge round bails of straw cut from a recently harvested wheat field into a truck fitted with a huge pitchfork front. He would spear the huge bails and drop them into the slanted truck bed. Pick up 5 bails then fly over the field release the bails and let them fall in a line. Fast, efficient. A special truck designed to the task.
We rode through several small towns with one paved road - Roxbury and Gypsum. Small stores on main street along with the post office, fire station and city hall of various sizes. Maybe 2 blocks of houses behind main street - often with dirt roads.
We came into Abilene, Kansas. Their biggest claim to fame is it is the home of Dwight D. Eisenhower, and hosts his presidential library, a museum and house he grew up in. He's buried there. We went there and made the mistake of going into the nice air conditioned theater for a very softly spoken 20 minute film ... kept nodding off. His home was interesting - a modest house on the wrong side of the tracks. And the library had many of his famous orders and speeches from D Day which was interesting to see his hand written edits.
Abilene is worth a stop on any travels. It had money in its day and still seems to have a community that will support interesting restaurants downtown. Much more affluent than Dodge cities and many of the towns further West. It has beautiful old mansions build by early cattle barons and later bankers and investors who moved here. At one point they thought it would be the capital of the state. Somehow this part of the state has survived the changing agricultural economy better than it's western neighbors.
We only had one washer and dryer and so it was the laundry scramble when we got in. Various stalking and moving everyones laundry along ... we all know each other so well that no one things twice about handling the others underwear. Maybe that's wrong ?
Tomorrow we have a 108 miles ride to Topeka. It's July 4th, and we're riding through many small town and probably right through the Independence Day celebrations. Should be fun.
Happy 4th!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
What it's like to bike on I 80
This is the first video I shot in California on I 80 ... a test for posting
Day 26: Great Bend to McPherson, KS (Kansas ... the longest state in the union?)
Well, not every day is a home run.
Today we rode 64 miles due east into a stiff headwind/sometimes when we were lucky crosswind through ... Kansas. Yep, we're still here. Kansas.
Other than putting my head down and pedaling, my only interesting stop was to check out one of those oil wells that was by the side of the road. The kind where the horse headed shaped lever bobs up and down endlessly. And that's all there was to it.
The territory is looking more and more "back East". Smaller farms. More hardwood trees. More diverse agriculture. The ground is rolling. There is the smell of hay as we pass freshly harvested wheat fields, and I'm seeing alfalfa and other legumes.
Got in pretty early and cleaned my bike. I noticed what looks like a small horizontal crack in the top tube ... bad news on a carbon frame. Hopefully it will be OK, but I documented it for the warranty, sent photos back to Redmond Cycle where Brian is taking care of my bike and am holding my breath. That could be expensive to replace the frame. No idea how the crack got there - I hope it's just a scratch in the paint.
We watched bad movies this afternoon and goofed by the pool. That was a nice change from rushing around worrying about laundry or other tasks that pile up on long ride days.
Another short day tomorrow.
Today we rode 64 miles due east into a stiff headwind/sometimes when we were lucky crosswind through ... Kansas. Yep, we're still here. Kansas.
Other than putting my head down and pedaling, my only interesting stop was to check out one of those oil wells that was by the side of the road. The kind where the horse headed shaped lever bobs up and down endlessly. And that's all there was to it.
The territory is looking more and more "back East". Smaller farms. More hardwood trees. More diverse agriculture. The ground is rolling. There is the smell of hay as we pass freshly harvested wheat fields, and I'm seeing alfalfa and other legumes.
Got in pretty early and cleaned my bike. I noticed what looks like a small horizontal crack in the top tube ... bad news on a carbon frame. Hopefully it will be OK, but I documented it for the warranty, sent photos back to Redmond Cycle where Brian is taking care of my bike and am holding my breath. That could be expensive to replace the frame. No idea how the crack got there - I hope it's just a scratch in the paint.
We watched bad movies this afternoon and goofed by the pool. That was a nice change from rushing around worrying about laundry or other tasks that pile up on long ride days.
Another short day tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Day 25: Dodge City to Great Bend, KS
We've been biking past these huge grain silos for days. I've been calling them the Kansas skyline, showing up reliably in every community. Finally I can't stand it, I pull off and decide to check one out.
I start of carefully ... not knowing how these actually work I don't want a ton of wheat dropped on my head or to get sucked in to some wheat vacuum. So as I'm standing in the middle of one of them in my helmet and spandex looking perplexed out comes a tall skinny guy with an ADM hat. So I just say, "Hey there. I've been biking by these things for days and I was wondering how they worked?". It's like the magic door opened ... Off I go on the tour. By tour I mean the 10 steps to look at the scales where the trucks pull in to be weighed before and after they drop the wheat. The grates where they dump the wheat and it falls through to an underground compartment. The conveyor belt that runs up to the huge towers to carry the wheat up into the towers.
Learned all about the harvest - it's almost over. Lost 800k acres to a late season hail storm so they are short. Most are owned by big companies like ADM, but there are still a few community co-ops. Most grain from this facility will be shipped by train to Louisiana, Mexico or Galveston for processing. Any local farmer can deposit their wheat for free in the ADM granary for 30 days and then there is a charge by the bushel per day for storage.
It made me reflect on a couple of things I believe are fundamental about human nature. When you show genuine interest in a person's life or craft or interests, they are usually more than willing to share what they know, generous with their skills and time, and it's almost always more than you could ever hope to learn on your own. I think it's in human nature to respond positively and generously when presented with the opportunity - and most folks will respond that way if you let them. That's been my experience as we've been welcomed in every community we've come though. It's been one of the best gifts of this trip.
Today we kept our eastern trek through farmlands ... less prairie now and more agriculture. Fewer feedlots and passing livestock trucks with that acrid, rancid, unmistakable smell. More corn and wheat fields all huge ... some for as far as the horizon.
We had a rest stop at Midway, USA which billed itself as the official midpoint of the country between San Fran and New York. It's not the midpoint of our trip, but made for a fun photo stop anyway. They had a great little community museum there. Three rooms of stuff donated by community members, including an old John Deere wooden wagon - the precursor to the tractor (still with the green and yellow logo), a permanent machine for ladies hair that looked more terrifying than an electric chair and someones diligently organized barb wire collection mounted on the wall of all different styles of barb wire. They had built a sample sod house and then furnished it - complete with wall paper to make it look nicer even though they say that may not be so common.
Our ride today was supposed to be 85 miles, but the Tornado-chaser Lady from Dodge City had suggested that I try to get by Fort Larned which was sort of on our way to Great Bend. This added about 15 miles - getting me and the 2 others I talked into going with me - Hans from Switzerland and Brian who is great about exploring everything - an even 100 miles today. But the extra saddle time in 95 degree heat it was worth it.
The fort is run by the National Park Service and is an un-walled open fort built by the Pawnee River and only active for 20 years to protect the Santa Fe trail, trading, the mail and to play various unsavory roles in the Indian conflicts and tribes were being forced into treaties and onto reservations. No buildings were destroyed after it was abandoned. It's been re-furnished with the hospital equipment, bunk beds, armaments and officer quarter furnishings of the period. It's pretty interesting. The park service folks were a little bored and so spent a lot of time answering questions. One of those pieces of history you've never heard of that's so relevant to place when you are there.
On the way in we saw wheat being harvested ... for enormous combines sweeping a huge field and shooting out grain into an enormous tractor trailer ... they must have completed that harvest in under an hour. Amazing the massive scale of today's agriculture.
Tonight is the last night for our staff mechanic, Sean. He's a talented bike mechanic which we have all noticed and appreciated, and a super nice guy. He's off to fly around the world for a few months - Sweden/Europe, South Africa, India, Australia. But he's nice enough to say he's sorry to miss the end of our trip and not see it through. We get a new mechanic in a few days, so everyone is eying their bike skeptically.
Tomorrow we are still in Kansas. In fact we are in Kansas for a long time more ... big state I guess. I hope no-one gets tired of hearing about wheat.
I start of carefully ... not knowing how these actually work I don't want a ton of wheat dropped on my head or to get sucked in to some wheat vacuum. So as I'm standing in the middle of one of them in my helmet and spandex looking perplexed out comes a tall skinny guy with an ADM hat. So I just say, "Hey there. I've been biking by these things for days and I was wondering how they worked?". It's like the magic door opened ... Off I go on the tour. By tour I mean the 10 steps to look at the scales where the trucks pull in to be weighed before and after they drop the wheat. The grates where they dump the wheat and it falls through to an underground compartment. The conveyor belt that runs up to the huge towers to carry the wheat up into the towers.
Learned all about the harvest - it's almost over. Lost 800k acres to a late season hail storm so they are short. Most are owned by big companies like ADM, but there are still a few community co-ops. Most grain from this facility will be shipped by train to Louisiana, Mexico or Galveston for processing. Any local farmer can deposit their wheat for free in the ADM granary for 30 days and then there is a charge by the bushel per day for storage.
It made me reflect on a couple of things I believe are fundamental about human nature. When you show genuine interest in a person's life or craft or interests, they are usually more than willing to share what they know, generous with their skills and time, and it's almost always more than you could ever hope to learn on your own. I think it's in human nature to respond positively and generously when presented with the opportunity - and most folks will respond that way if you let them. That's been my experience as we've been welcomed in every community we've come though. It's been one of the best gifts of this trip.
Today we kept our eastern trek through farmlands ... less prairie now and more agriculture. Fewer feedlots and passing livestock trucks with that acrid, rancid, unmistakable smell. More corn and wheat fields all huge ... some for as far as the horizon.
We had a rest stop at Midway, USA which billed itself as the official midpoint of the country between San Fran and New York. It's not the midpoint of our trip, but made for a fun photo stop anyway. They had a great little community museum there. Three rooms of stuff donated by community members, including an old John Deere wooden wagon - the precursor to the tractor (still with the green and yellow logo), a permanent machine for ladies hair that looked more terrifying than an electric chair and someones diligently organized barb wire collection mounted on the wall of all different styles of barb wire. They had built a sample sod house and then furnished it - complete with wall paper to make it look nicer even though they say that may not be so common.
Our ride today was supposed to be 85 miles, but the Tornado-chaser Lady from Dodge City had suggested that I try to get by Fort Larned which was sort of on our way to Great Bend. This added about 15 miles - getting me and the 2 others I talked into going with me - Hans from Switzerland and Brian who is great about exploring everything - an even 100 miles today. But the extra saddle time in 95 degree heat it was worth it.
The fort is run by the National Park Service and is an un-walled open fort built by the Pawnee River and only active for 20 years to protect the Santa Fe trail, trading, the mail and to play various unsavory roles in the Indian conflicts and tribes were being forced into treaties and onto reservations. No buildings were destroyed after it was abandoned. It's been re-furnished with the hospital equipment, bunk beds, armaments and officer quarter furnishings of the period. It's pretty interesting. The park service folks were a little bored and so spent a lot of time answering questions. One of those pieces of history you've never heard of that's so relevant to place when you are there.
On the way in we saw wheat being harvested ... for enormous combines sweeping a huge field and shooting out grain into an enormous tractor trailer ... they must have completed that harvest in under an hour. Amazing the massive scale of today's agriculture.
Tonight is the last night for our staff mechanic, Sean. He's a talented bike mechanic which we have all noticed and appreciated, and a super nice guy. He's off to fly around the world for a few months - Sweden/Europe, South Africa, India, Australia. But he's nice enough to say he's sorry to miss the end of our trip and not see it through. We get a new mechanic in a few days, so everyone is eying their bike skeptically.
Tomorrow we are still in Kansas. In fact we are in Kansas for a long time more ... big state I guess. I hope no-one gets tired of hearing about wheat.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Day 24: Garden City to Dodge City
Biking along we saw a little sign that said Scenic Overlook - one mile. Odd ... There was a slight rise in the flatness down the road but what could you possibly see that you couldn't already. The horizon is so large you feel you can see the curve of the earth.
Our curiosity peaked we pedaled on and came to the turnout. The scenic overlook was - I'm not kidding - looking down on an enormous feedlot full of cows being fattened up for slaughter. Yep ... Cows. Pretty funny.
For the last few days we have followed the Santa Fe trail that connected the East with the South-west. Freight caravans were lucky to advance 12 to 15 miles a day across the ruts and pits in the trail. The Arkansas River just to the south of the trail was the international border to Spain and in 1821 to Mexico after Mexico gained independence. In 1846 the US sent troops down the trail to take the territory from Mexico and move the boarder south. In the meantime the trail was a huge trade route, and you can still see ruts from the wagons in a spot about 7 miles west of Dodge City. The trail was still heavily used till the 1860s when it was replaced by the railroad.
Today was an easy ride day (51 miles, mostly flat), so besides brushing up on my history I also took the time to really look around. First thing I noticed is that the highway parallels the railroad and most every town has huge grain silos that are organized into community co-ops. The silos are placed right between the highway and the tracks and there is a series of them as we head east. They tower out of the ground and can be seen for miles before you get there.
The second is that all those trucks and many cars going between the feedlots and silos don't give a hoot about cyclists. No slowing down, no giving an inch. We had a narrow shoulder the first 25 miles, and between huge trucks passing at 60+ MPH without moving over and 2 idiots passing and coming head on in our lane (it is still our lane, you know, even though we ride on the shoulder) my life passed before my eyes 3 times and I considered a dive in a ditch once. Can't ever remember being so nervous about traffic.
But luckily that was over soon and as we rode into the little town of Cimmaron – a crossing point where the Santa Fe trail branched off into two alternate routes heading to New Mexico - tales of Clarks Pharmacy and their yummy milkshakes had taken over my grouchiness at idiot Kansas drivers. Amazing what a strawberry milkshake can cure (strawberry because since it was still morning I though a fruity thing might be a better excuse than my normal chocolate). Clarks is a great old drugstore with an old fashioned soda bar. Shake for $3, sandwiches for $2.50. It was full of locals when we invaded,and the gals behind the counter took us in stride. Oprah passed through here on there on her Oprah and Gayles great adventure on the great plains ... And they apparently ordered a smoothie which was (nope, you wouldn't want actual fruit in a smoothie in Cimmaron) Orange sherbet and Sierra Mist. Hmmmm ... Actually pretty refreshing when I tried it.
Pedaling on I was in open prairie land with slightly rolling hills. Lots of wildflowers popping out - reddish orange small daisies, sunflowers, yellow purple and white flowers mixed in with knee high prairie grass and dandelion seed balls as big as baseballs. At the historical marker where you can see the original tracks for the Santa Fe Trail I walked out onto the prairie. Wildflowers. Different shades of green. The remnants of the trail and an irrigation canal some investor tried to dig that failed. Enormous grasshoppers were hopping everywhere. (Random aside: The day before we also saw grasshoppers - different species - on the roadway. They were a little freaky - you try not to hit them because they are big enough to have a disgusting crunch/squish. But they are fearless - just sit there and watch you. And cannibals - they go eat the other squished ones. Perhaps the result of years of pesticides? The grasshoppers are still there, fearless and hardcore despite years of being bombarded with chemicals.)
Heading into Dodge City I had high expectations. This was the home of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday. The TV show Gunsmoke was set here. I had big expectations of some sort of restored historical street with just enough cheese to keep it interesting (think Tombstone)...
But ... what we got was a fake old street owned by a hotel that you had to pay admission to go look into fake old merchantiles and stores. Bleh.
I did bike around and there are lots of old houses, many run down, with a grid of streets with the original brick pavers intact. There was a wax museum of gunfighters. I didn't go in. Sigh ... very disappointing. What a lost opportunity for a city that really needs a lift.
I retreated to a coffee house and chatted with a woman and her son instead. She has lived here for 13 years. They chase storms for fun. The ones with Tornadoes. Not kidding. Get in the car and chase storms. Apparently you can pay people to take you out storm chasing here. She said they did it long before the movie Twister came out.
She was telling me about the area which was great. 80% Hispanic, lots of illegals. Farm based economy. Struggling community.
The climate has a huge impact here. A huge tornado rolled through and wiped out a town just south of here. They are rebuilding it as a "green" town ... which should be interesting to follow. She was also talking about how radically the climate had changed ... they used to get a lot of snow but now hardly get any. She's concerned about how the dryness will impact agriculture, which she sees as struggling anyway.
She confirmed all the farms here are huge agribusiness and small farmers are long gone.
Our curiosity peaked we pedaled on and came to the turnout. The scenic overlook was - I'm not kidding - looking down on an enormous feedlot full of cows being fattened up for slaughter. Yep ... Cows. Pretty funny.
For the last few days we have followed the Santa Fe trail that connected the East with the South-west. Freight caravans were lucky to advance 12 to 15 miles a day across the ruts and pits in the trail. The Arkansas River just to the south of the trail was the international border to Spain and in 1821 to Mexico after Mexico gained independence. In 1846 the US sent troops down the trail to take the territory from Mexico and move the boarder south. In the meantime the trail was a huge trade route, and you can still see ruts from the wagons in a spot about 7 miles west of Dodge City. The trail was still heavily used till the 1860s when it was replaced by the railroad.
Today was an easy ride day (51 miles, mostly flat), so besides brushing up on my history I also took the time to really look around. First thing I noticed is that the highway parallels the railroad and most every town has huge grain silos that are organized into community co-ops. The silos are placed right between the highway and the tracks and there is a series of them as we head east. They tower out of the ground and can be seen for miles before you get there.
The second is that all those trucks and many cars going between the feedlots and silos don't give a hoot about cyclists. No slowing down, no giving an inch. We had a narrow shoulder the first 25 miles, and between huge trucks passing at 60+ MPH without moving over and 2 idiots passing and coming head on in our lane (it is still our lane, you know, even though we ride on the shoulder) my life passed before my eyes 3 times and I considered a dive in a ditch once. Can't ever remember being so nervous about traffic.
But luckily that was over soon and as we rode into the little town of Cimmaron – a crossing point where the Santa Fe trail branched off into two alternate routes heading to New Mexico - tales of Clarks Pharmacy and their yummy milkshakes had taken over my grouchiness at idiot Kansas drivers. Amazing what a strawberry milkshake can cure (strawberry because since it was still morning I though a fruity thing might be a better excuse than my normal chocolate). Clarks is a great old drugstore with an old fashioned soda bar. Shake for $3, sandwiches for $2.50. It was full of locals when we invaded,and the gals behind the counter took us in stride. Oprah passed through here on there on her Oprah and Gayles great adventure on the great plains ... And they apparently ordered a smoothie which was (nope, you wouldn't want actual fruit in a smoothie in Cimmaron) Orange sherbet and Sierra Mist. Hmmmm ... Actually pretty refreshing when I tried it.
Pedaling on I was in open prairie land with slightly rolling hills. Lots of wildflowers popping out - reddish orange small daisies, sunflowers, yellow purple and white flowers mixed in with knee high prairie grass and dandelion seed balls as big as baseballs. At the historical marker where you can see the original tracks for the Santa Fe Trail I walked out onto the prairie. Wildflowers. Different shades of green. The remnants of the trail and an irrigation canal some investor tried to dig that failed. Enormous grasshoppers were hopping everywhere. (Random aside: The day before we also saw grasshoppers - different species - on the roadway. They were a little freaky - you try not to hit them because they are big enough to have a disgusting crunch/squish. But they are fearless - just sit there and watch you. And cannibals - they go eat the other squished ones. Perhaps the result of years of pesticides? The grasshoppers are still there, fearless and hardcore despite years of being bombarded with chemicals.)
Heading into Dodge City I had high expectations. This was the home of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday. The TV show Gunsmoke was set here. I had big expectations of some sort of restored historical street with just enough cheese to keep it interesting (think Tombstone)...
But ... what we got was a fake old street owned by a hotel that you had to pay admission to go look into fake old merchantiles and stores. Bleh.
I did bike around and there are lots of old houses, many run down, with a grid of streets with the original brick pavers intact. There was a wax museum of gunfighters. I didn't go in. Sigh ... very disappointing. What a lost opportunity for a city that really needs a lift.
I retreated to a coffee house and chatted with a woman and her son instead. She has lived here for 13 years. They chase storms for fun. The ones with Tornadoes. Not kidding. Get in the car and chase storms. Apparently you can pay people to take you out storm chasing here. She said they did it long before the movie Twister came out.
She was telling me about the area which was great. 80% Hispanic, lots of illegals. Farm based economy. Struggling community.
The climate has a huge impact here. A huge tornado rolled through and wiped out a town just south of here. They are rebuilding it as a "green" town ... which should be interesting to follow. She was also talking about how radically the climate had changed ... they used to get a lot of snow but now hardly get any. She's concerned about how the dryness will impact agriculture, which she sees as struggling anyway.
She confirmed all the farms here are huge agribusiness and small farmers are long gone.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Day 23: Lamar to Garden City, KS (Newsflash: Kansas is not totally flat)
Prairie Dogs are funny little critters. There were a ton of them scurrying around in the miles east of Lamar. They live in colonies on the high plains and are constantly popping in and out of their dirt mound/holes and dashing around doing whatever prairie dogs do early morning. Don't really see them once it gets hot ... they are much more sensible than we are and get out of the heat.
Our ride today was fun. Spent most of the day riding with Gerard who is on the staff and Seattle Bob. With Chris joining us in the beginning till he figured out he could break his record for a hundred mile ride and left us in the dust.
These (mostly) flat lands make it tempting to see how hard and fast you can ride. Today I set my all time best record for a century ride. Averaged 18.5 mph for 100 miles and got in in 5 hours, 22 minutes ride time (doesn't include stops). That means riding above 20mph for most of the ride. It was the perfect day for a fast time ... four riders made it in under 5 hours which is really fast for a century. Chuck made it his mission to beat Tom in and break Tom's string of fastest/arrive first that he's held since the beginning of the trip. He's pretty pleased with himself. He rode the full 105 miles today in less than 4 hours, 30 minutes. This rivalry should be entertaining as we go on.
And, who knew, Kansas isn't flat as a pancake. I knew of hills in East Kansas, but we rode through 25 miles or so of bonafide rollers A few miles east of the Kansas line. How exciting!
What we are seeing is farm land ... a lot of it. As we pulled into Syracuse I joked "Look, there is the Kansas skyline." This would be the huge grain silos and ag processing equipment that rose way above the prairie and resembled a small version of skyscrapers. We are seeing more corn - all looking good and knee high by the fourth of July. Fields and the dark green of maturing plants, the lighter greens of new growth and shoots and golden fields of what must be wheat that was cut short and left fallow. Most of these fields will have a tree sheltered house and barn in the center of open space.
It's clear a lot of the small towns we passed through are struggling. Closed shops and for sale signs are prominent. And large agribusiness is evident everywhere from the huge Tyson processing plant to semi-trucks hauling livestock, hay and farm equipment. I can't believe the small farmer is faring very well now.
Right now we are staying in a Comfort Inn in Garden City. They are being incredibly nice, including having a bike wash station complete with cold bottled water and oranges for us when we got in. I was chatting with a woman from here and asked us what we could do here and she said "Well. We used to have the largest free swimming pool in the country but then they built the slides and started to charge." Probably won't make it to the pool.
Tomorrow we go to Dodge City. This promises to be full of cheesy touristy wild west wax museums, fake gunfights and who knows what else. Should be a blast. A short ride - only 51 miles - should get us in with plenty of time to be tacky tourists.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Day 22: Pueblo to Lamar, CO
Today we saw a woman who was running across America. LA to NY, 30 miles a day. Raising money for the Heart Association.
You all think I'm crazy ... I think she's crazy. That's perspective for you.
I regret not getting to talk to her ... I was in a heat induced haze and trying to get done with our 121 mile day before you could fry and egg on the top of my helmet and didn't fully clue in to why this really skinny woman was shuffling along through Las Animas Colorado. Oh well ...
Today as we headed east we were in farmland that reminded me of where I grew up in Eastern North Carolina. Except it was all bigger. That's one big difference between East Coast and West Coast ... out in the west there is still a sense of vastness and ranches and farms have had many fewer generations to be divided up among siblings.
We had a long day - 121 miles. I had a good pace - averaged 17.5 mph. The first half I rode with a group and we did some pacelining to cope with the headwinds. After a bulging sidewall on my front tire followed by an immediate flat in the back (darn Goatheads - bane of all cyclists - evil little thorny bastards) I cut them loose and ended up riding the rest of the way in on my own. Which is kinda fun ... go at your own pace and aren't tied to others needs. Kinda like my life. Anyway ...
We started out through horse country and then moved into farm country. Started passing huge farms with corn and other food crops. Then back into grasslands. We are on the high plains - still around 4000 feet of elevations. It's flat. Rivers are drier and trickle instead of roar. Small houses and barns dot the landscape. We road through several small towns with names like Manzanola, Rocky Ford and La Junta and Hasty that look like small towns all over America: post office, small store with a porch or area where community members gather, little houses along the road.
Stopped at a small store/restaurant/gathering place in La Junta and made a dash for the water fountain to fill up on cold water. Bought some chocolate milk cause by then it was too hot to eat - had to drink my calories. This ended up being a 20 minute visit chatting with the store owner and customers about what I was doing. They were very nice.
I must have looked like a freak ... glistening sweaty from the 90+ heat and covered in dirt from the knees down and gnat carcases from the knees up. (Unfortunately the oily sunscreen the tour provides turn out to be gnat magnet when you ride so I get off the bike and look like the windshield that all the bugs find on a summer night. Gotta figure out an alternative way to carry my good, non bug attracting sunscreen.)
Anyway, my La Junta visit ended with a chat with a woman who wanted to know how I could ride in this heat. I was telling her about electrolytes and she is off to stock up at the bike store in Colorado Springs. Score one more for better fitness for America.
Did pass one of the huge feedlots. Thousands of cattle stuffed in acres of metal fences, literally there to be fed and eat all day and fatten up before being slaughtered. It was pretty grim ... just crowded in there being fed and waiting to die. The slaughter plant was next to the holding pens. A look at our modern food production we don't often see on that scale. Even though I grew up in North Carolina near many farms, I don't remember it being so industrial and efficient in production. But then I left NC a long time ago ...
Tomorrow we enter Kansas ... another long ride 105 miles.
You all think I'm crazy ... I think she's crazy. That's perspective for you.
I regret not getting to talk to her ... I was in a heat induced haze and trying to get done with our 121 mile day before you could fry and egg on the top of my helmet and didn't fully clue in to why this really skinny woman was shuffling along through Las Animas Colorado. Oh well ...
Today as we headed east we were in farmland that reminded me of where I grew up in Eastern North Carolina. Except it was all bigger. That's one big difference between East Coast and West Coast ... out in the west there is still a sense of vastness and ranches and farms have had many fewer generations to be divided up among siblings.
We had a long day - 121 miles. I had a good pace - averaged 17.5 mph. The first half I rode with a group and we did some pacelining to cope with the headwinds. After a bulging sidewall on my front tire followed by an immediate flat in the back (darn Goatheads - bane of all cyclists - evil little thorny bastards) I cut them loose and ended up riding the rest of the way in on my own. Which is kinda fun ... go at your own pace and aren't tied to others needs. Kinda like my life. Anyway ...
We started out through horse country and then moved into farm country. Started passing huge farms with corn and other food crops. Then back into grasslands. We are on the high plains - still around 4000 feet of elevations. It's flat. Rivers are drier and trickle instead of roar. Small houses and barns dot the landscape. We road through several small towns with names like Manzanola, Rocky Ford and La Junta and Hasty that look like small towns all over America: post office, small store with a porch or area where community members gather, little houses along the road.
Stopped at a small store/restaurant/gathering place in La Junta and made a dash for the water fountain to fill up on cold water. Bought some chocolate milk cause by then it was too hot to eat - had to drink my calories. This ended up being a 20 minute visit chatting with the store owner and customers about what I was doing. They were very nice.
I must have looked like a freak ... glistening sweaty from the 90+ heat and covered in dirt from the knees down and gnat carcases from the knees up. (Unfortunately the oily sunscreen the tour provides turn out to be gnat magnet when you ride so I get off the bike and look like the windshield that all the bugs find on a summer night. Gotta figure out an alternative way to carry my good, non bug attracting sunscreen.)
Anyway, my La Junta visit ended with a chat with a woman who wanted to know how I could ride in this heat. I was telling her about electrolytes and she is off to stock up at the bike store in Colorado Springs. Score one more for better fitness for America.
Did pass one of the huge feedlots. Thousands of cattle stuffed in acres of metal fences, literally there to be fed and eat all day and fatten up before being slaughtered. It was pretty grim ... just crowded in there being fed and waiting to die. The slaughter plant was next to the holding pens. A look at our modern food production we don't often see on that scale. Even though I grew up in North Carolina near many farms, I don't remember it being so industrial and efficient in production. But then I left NC a long time ago ...
Tomorrow we enter Kansas ... another long ride 105 miles.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Day 20 and 21: Salida to Pueblo, CO and a Rest day in Pueblo
Bye-Bye Mountains. At least till Vermont or so.
Friday we rode 96 miles from Salida east to Pueblo. Literally dropped over 3000 feet down from the Rockies onto the Eastern plain. We're still at over 4000 feet elevation here, but the terrain changed drastically the last 40 miles of our ride to high rolling dry hills of dry, hot country.
We started the first 35 miles through beautiful canyon following the Arkansas river from it source in Salida as it raged down the canyon swollen with tons of snow melt and rains from the thunderstorms that ran though Thursday afternoon. Red rock, green valley, steep cliffs. This is where a lot of rafting happens so we saw lots of raft outfitters putting boats in the water and screaming people filled boats careening down the rapids. Looked fun ... it was hot. If we weren't going 96 miles I was considering walking in on a half day raft trip to cool off. But 96 miles can be a long day in the saddle. The river was running too high to swim in. So a huge chocolate milkshake at Big Daddys diner in Canon City had to suffice to cool off and fuel up for the last 4o miles in to Pueblo.
The riding was easy ... a slight downhill for miles as we followed the river down. One 3 mile climb and them more downhill.
We mountain folks are all gritting our teeth and wondering what it will be like riding for days through flat, hot windy cow country. Kansas ... day after tomorrow. East Colorado ... basically like Kansas riding wise. We've been talking about how to amuse ourselves ... road games? Punchbug on the bike? Judy my roommate says the best way is to meet and talk with as many of the locals as possible. Which sounds fun except with temps over 100 degrees I want to get done with riding by early afternoon everyday cause I can't tolerate heat anymore even though I grew up in North Carolina humidity. I have visions of begging people to spray me with their garden hose as I ride by.
Today we had a needed rest day in Pueblo. I know my legs are fatigued because when I leave my comfort zone at all when riding - like getting out of the saddle on a hill - the lactic acid just burns like crazy. That's usually not a problem. So today was leisurely.
Slept in till almost nine. (If you haven't tried the MACs wax earplugs do - much better than the foam plugs and you can sleep through anything). Then headed to the grocery store and bought some Greek yogurt and raspberries and a peach. Talked the nice girls at the hotel desk into taking the delicious bread and scones Tracey, Neil and the 3 little Snyders sent as a care package (THANK YOU!!!) to the kitchen and warming it up for me, and then I set up Pate's breakfast buffet in the middle of the lobby. Didn't take long for all that bread, jam, double creme, scones and granola to disappear from a lot of happy cyclists with eyes half closed going "oh man, is this good".
Then off with Jack, Chuck and Dr. Shawn to the street rodder car show. These cars have been driving past us for 3 days coming to Pueblo for their national convention. We got to the fairgrounds and there were over 3000 cars pre 1949 and most fully restored with loving owners just waiting to talk about their baby. It was pretty fun, even for someone like me who who drives a beat up 10 year old Honda civic and generally could care less about cars.
On a sad note, we lost another cross country rider today, Jim. Super nice guy from San Francisco. He has a pacemaker that started malfunctioning during the ride. But he climbed Monarch pass anyway wondering why he wasn't feeling very strong ... his heart rate was 56!! Unbelievable. To put that in perspective, a really strong athletes resting heart rate is around that rate. My heart rate when I climbed the pass was probably around 140 beats per minute. Crazy he was able to do it. But now he's off to get "tech support" as I was calling it and hopefully they can fix the problem quickly and he can rejoin us.
We also lost all 13 riders who joined us in Salt Lake City and left in Pueblo. Best of luck to them - and great riding with you if you are reading.
Tomorrow we do the longest ride I've ever done though not by much - 120 miles to Lamar, CO. Again a lot of elevation loss. Hoping for a nice tailwind.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Day 19: Gunnison to Salida, CO (Montrose pass, lemonade girls, wine tasting and gondolas)
I'm going to miss the big climbs.
Today's climb over Monarch pass - 11300 feet - was the last good long climb till we get to Vermont.
Don't know why I like the long multi-mile climbs ... Maybe because it's meditative to just settle in to a low gear and crank up a mountain. Rhythmical. Usually beautiful scenery. Mentally challenging - acknowledging that your legs are tired but keep going anyway and thinking about your pedal stroke and keeping a steady cadence. You know you've done something most won't even try and it's a big rush to look back down the valley at how far you've come. It's fun to talk to normal people at the top who come over to confirm that you did actually ride that bike up the pass... and then they pass you on the way down with a big wave and thumbs up.
Today started out on the right foot ... With a proper cup of coffee. Not easy to get out here where instant rules. Yuck.
So properly caffeinated, we headed east towards the Pass. The first 35 miles of our ride were all a gradual climb as we'll followed the Gunnison River up a beautiful green valley towards the higher peaks.
On the way we saw a herd of big horn sheep hanging out in a pasture with some llamas. I assume the llamas were part of the ranch and the sheep were crashing. The big male sheep with the curving horns was standing and watching all of us carefully, while his ladies lounged on the grass oblivious.
The 9 mile climb wound up a valley and then up the side of the mountain that had been blasted into just enough room for a road. A thousand foot drop on the right with narrow shoulders ... This was not a climb for those with a fear of heights.
The river ran below and you could still hear it as we climbed higher. I watched my garmin ticking off the elevation - we climbed over 3500 feet in 9 miles.
The air is noticeably thinner after 8 or 9000 feet. I have a good tolerance for high altitude, but I found that when I would take a drink from my water bottle just disrupting the rhythm of my breathing left me gasping to recover enough air to sustain the climbing. Passed by several riders and gave them all the positive words - looking really strong, we're almost there, took a photo of them as I passed to document their climb.
The summit had all the tourist trappings we could desire, complete with T-shirts that said I made it to the summit of Monarch pass on a bike, a Gondola you could take to the mountain summit for great views (of course I went), and a fudge shop. Yep had some fudge, too.
The down hill was great. Fast but not so fast you had to ride your brakes to stay in control, unbelievable views and downhill all the way into town.
I met up with Marilyn on the way down and rode in with her. She was a willing accomplice for a pit stop by an ice cream stand recommended by a rider from an earlier trip (very tasty chocolate malt which I also justify serves as my chocolate milk-like recover drink) and further down the road a little wine tasting.
When we rolled into the hotel we we're greeted by four very cute little girls with a lemonade stand. They were making a killing at $.75 a cup. But I don't mind ... Go girl entrepreneurs.
Tonight we wandered around the town of Salida (pronounced Sal eye da). Very cute town with the river running through it, lots of shops, pubs - it's clearly an destination/resort area that draws outdoorsy crowds.
A great day. 66 miles ridden, approx 4500 elevation
Today's climb over Monarch pass - 11300 feet - was the last good long climb till we get to Vermont.
Don't know why I like the long multi-mile climbs ... Maybe because it's meditative to just settle in to a low gear and crank up a mountain. Rhythmical. Usually beautiful scenery. Mentally challenging - acknowledging that your legs are tired but keep going anyway and thinking about your pedal stroke and keeping a steady cadence. You know you've done something most won't even try and it's a big rush to look back down the valley at how far you've come. It's fun to talk to normal people at the top who come over to confirm that you did actually ride that bike up the pass... and then they pass you on the way down with a big wave and thumbs up.
Today started out on the right foot ... With a proper cup of coffee. Not easy to get out here where instant rules. Yuck.
So properly caffeinated, we headed east towards the Pass. The first 35 miles of our ride were all a gradual climb as we'll followed the Gunnison River up a beautiful green valley towards the higher peaks.
On the way we saw a herd of big horn sheep hanging out in a pasture with some llamas. I assume the llamas were part of the ranch and the sheep were crashing. The big male sheep with the curving horns was standing and watching all of us carefully, while his ladies lounged on the grass oblivious.
The 9 mile climb wound up a valley and then up the side of the mountain that had been blasted into just enough room for a road. A thousand foot drop on the right with narrow shoulders ... This was not a climb for those with a fear of heights.
The river ran below and you could still hear it as we climbed higher. I watched my garmin ticking off the elevation - we climbed over 3500 feet in 9 miles.
The air is noticeably thinner after 8 or 9000 feet. I have a good tolerance for high altitude, but I found that when I would take a drink from my water bottle just disrupting the rhythm of my breathing left me gasping to recover enough air to sustain the climbing. Passed by several riders and gave them all the positive words - looking really strong, we're almost there, took a photo of them as I passed to document their climb.
The summit had all the tourist trappings we could desire, complete with T-shirts that said I made it to the summit of Monarch pass on a bike, a Gondola you could take to the mountain summit for great views (of course I went), and a fudge shop. Yep had some fudge, too.
The down hill was great. Fast but not so fast you had to ride your brakes to stay in control, unbelievable views and downhill all the way into town.
I met up with Marilyn on the way down and rode in with her. She was a willing accomplice for a pit stop by an ice cream stand recommended by a rider from an earlier trip (very tasty chocolate malt which I also justify serves as my chocolate milk-like recover drink) and further down the road a little wine tasting.
When we rolled into the hotel we we're greeted by four very cute little girls with a lemonade stand. They were making a killing at $.75 a cup. But I don't mind ... Go girl entrepreneurs.
Tonight we wandered around the town of Salida (pronounced Sal eye da). Very cute town with the river running through it, lots of shops, pubs - it's clearly an destination/resort area that draws outdoorsy crowds.
A great day. 66 miles ridden, approx 4500 elevation
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Day 18: Montrose to Gunnison, CO (cue Rocky Mountain High)
My Mom reminded me that when my sister and I were 9 or so we had a family vacation at a Dude Ranch outside Gunnison in one of the canyons. We would tack on family vacations to Dad's business trips back then, and I remember this one as a highlight.
I was horse crazy and the Dude ranch was my idea of heaven - and it meant a trail ride on an actual horse. I remember getting all dressed up complete with boots I think and then being too shy to talk to the cowboy (or probably college kid on a summer job). But the best spending days building a fort by the Gunnison River in front of our cabin.
Grubby and outdoors ... my idea of fun then and now.
Today was spectacular. But we had to work for the reward today.
I was horse crazy and the Dude ranch was my idea of heaven - and it meant a trail ride on an actual horse. I remember getting all dressed up complete with boots I think and then being too shy to talk to the cowboy (or probably college kid on a summer job). But the best spending days building a fort by the Gunnison River in front of our cabin.
Grubby and outdoors ... my idea of fun then and now.
Today was spectacular. But we had to work for the reward today.
We were still riding with the Tour of Colorado folks. We had two significant climbs today - and the first 15 miles - - including most of one of the climbs was in a "put your head down and pedal as hard as possible and be thankful you're making 10 mph on the flats for your efforts" headwind. Trees flapping, grass laying sideways, riders grumbling. But as we eased up the first pass the winds slowly died down, and we passed through terrain that became greener and more lush as we climbed to the first summit at just under 8000 feet.
After a 2 mile gorgeous descent (where we lost almost 1000 feet of that hard won elevation gain) whizzing through mountains and bigger snow capped peaks in the distance, we started the next climb to summit # 2. No wind this time but it was hot. Winding up a little steeper grade to the second summit, riders were definitely feeling it. I even had to crack open the Cliff blocks which I save for emergency fuel to add electrolytes and a little caffeine push. The second summit got us to over 8700 feet. It was glorious at the top. Wildflowers, views and one of the best descents ever. I bet I stopped 3 or 4 times to take photos and just look around. Incredible.
At the end of the descent we passed through a narrow gulch where the red rocks closed in overheads and the river ran strong next to the road. And then ... oops ... a sneak climb switchbacks up and around the side of a mountain out of site. It's one of those where you look up and see riders several hundred feet above you climbing where you will be going soon enough.
OK ... one more climb. Up we go. Now finally around the corner and ... could it possibly be something even better than what we've just ridden through? Yep! ... Blue Mesa Lake - gorgeous and huge and actually blue. Boats are on the water and red rock mountains are rising from the dammed Gunnison River. OK ... stopping a dozen more times for photos and admiring the views ... I can't believe some of these folks are whizzing by without stopping to see what's around them. What's the hurry?
We keep following the damned river/lake and head into Gunnison. Relatively flat and fast. Interesting company on the ride in with Gary from Cleveland in for the Salt Lake Pueblo leg where I talked him into trying the ice bath. We'll see if he's still talking to me tonight. A trip to the local pizza joint for lunch before heading back to the hotel. That pizza was good ... and we're going back tonight for dinner. May have another :) Because I can eat 2 pizzas a day now if I want. Love that.
Tomorrow if a big climb up and over Monarch Pass and then down to Salida. Over 11000 feet ... it will be interesting to see how the altitude impacts climbing. I know the air was thin enough at 8700.
After a 2 mile gorgeous descent (where we lost almost 1000 feet of that hard won elevation gain) whizzing through mountains and bigger snow capped peaks in the distance, we started the next climb to summit # 2. No wind this time but it was hot. Winding up a little steeper grade to the second summit, riders were definitely feeling it. I even had to crack open the Cliff blocks which I save for emergency fuel to add electrolytes and a little caffeine push. The second summit got us to over 8700 feet. It was glorious at the top. Wildflowers, views and one of the best descents ever. I bet I stopped 3 or 4 times to take photos and just look around. Incredible.
At the end of the descent we passed through a narrow gulch where the red rocks closed in overheads and the river ran strong next to the road. And then ... oops ... a sneak climb switchbacks up and around the side of a mountain out of site. It's one of those where you look up and see riders several hundred feet above you climbing where you will be going soon enough.
OK ... one more climb. Up we go. Now finally around the corner and ... could it possibly be something even better than what we've just ridden through? Yep! ... Blue Mesa Lake - gorgeous and huge and actually blue. Boats are on the water and red rock mountains are rising from the dammed Gunnison River. OK ... stopping a dozen more times for photos and admiring the views ... I can't believe some of these folks are whizzing by without stopping to see what's around them. What's the hurry?
We keep following the damned river/lake and head into Gunnison. Relatively flat and fast. Interesting company on the ride in with Gary from Cleveland in for the Salt Lake Pueblo leg where I talked him into trying the ice bath. We'll see if he's still talking to me tonight. A trip to the local pizza joint for lunch before heading back to the hotel. That pizza was good ... and we're going back tonight for dinner. May have another :) Because I can eat 2 pizzas a day now if I want. Love that.
Tomorrow if a big climb up and over Monarch Pass and then down to Salida. Over 11000 feet ... it will be interesting to see how the altitude impacts climbing. I know the air was thin enough at 8700.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Day 17 - Grand Junction, CO to Montrose, Co and riding with the Tour de Colorado
You've got to love a town that takes enough pride in it's community to invest in making it a little special.
After dinner last night I took a cab downtown with Chuck and Bob to check out Main Street. They had whimsical and fun public sculptures and plantings everywhere. Including a big bicycle you could climb on. Lots of bike and outdoor shops - this was clearly a center for outdoor recreation. A brew pub with a mighty tasty Stout on tap. And a gelateria that made their gelato daily using a recipe handed down from a fourth generation Venetian gelato maker. Yum.
When we were riding into Colorado yesterday we were greeted by Grand Junction resident and 7 time cross country rider Sue who met us under an overpass with frozen ices . She also showed us a network of trails leading through town that led by the Colorado River and even marked them with indicator signs .... A real luxury and a wonderful host.
So that's how our 72 mile ride today started, winding around 15 miles through a maze of bike paths to the main road that led to Montrose to the South East. We then joined the 1600 plus cyclists riding the Tour de Colorado - a 7 day event that is on the same route as we are following today and tomorrow. It was pretty fun to ride with other cyclists ... They were very curious about us and it was fun to chat. Their ride is pretty intense - 100+ miles days and 8000+ feet of climbing ... Tomorrow we get to stop in Gunnison and they go on over another mountain pass and for another 40 miles to Crested Butte. But then they haven't been riding for 17 days either. Does make me think it could be fun to come back and do this ride or Ride the Rockies one year down the road.
Today we did some long gradual climbs and passed through range lands and dirt roads leading off to places called Rattlesnake Gulch complete with rattlesnake road kill within 50 yards of the road. You could look down and open canyons snaking below. Cyclists stretched for miles in front and behind us. We noticed we were passing a lot more often than we were passed.
It also turns out that Colorado has wineries ... Who knew. We biked past several wineries ... Tasted a little of the local vino tonight which was pretty good. Hopefully can try some more in the next few days. Finally this afternoon we headed up to the rim of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. In the van - although Brian biked up there - what's another 2000 feet and 20 miles? He got style points for that. The Canyon is impressive - 2700 feet deep and narrow walls. I'd never been and was glad to see it.
Tomorrow we head on to Gunnison - some real climbing and around 65 miles. I'm looking forward to it, even though I've noticed it takes me longer and longer to warm up and my legs protest as I get going again after a stop. On the other hand I'm riding a lot stronger now ... Holding 19 and 20 mph is very doable and climbing is faster. Probably because I've been chasing faster riders for a couple of weeks now. So that's encouraging ... Wonder how fast we'll be going by the end of this trip?
After dinner last night I took a cab downtown with Chuck and Bob to check out Main Street. They had whimsical and fun public sculptures and plantings everywhere. Including a big bicycle you could climb on. Lots of bike and outdoor shops - this was clearly a center for outdoor recreation. A brew pub with a mighty tasty Stout on tap. And a gelateria that made their gelato daily using a recipe handed down from a fourth generation Venetian gelato maker. Yum.
When we were riding into Colorado yesterday we were greeted by Grand Junction resident and 7 time cross country rider Sue who met us under an overpass with frozen ices . She also showed us a network of trails leading through town that led by the Colorado River and even marked them with indicator signs .... A real luxury and a wonderful host.
So that's how our 72 mile ride today started, winding around 15 miles through a maze of bike paths to the main road that led to Montrose to the South East. We then joined the 1600 plus cyclists riding the Tour de Colorado - a 7 day event that is on the same route as we are following today and tomorrow. It was pretty fun to ride with other cyclists ... They were very curious about us and it was fun to chat. Their ride is pretty intense - 100+ miles days and 8000+ feet of climbing ... Tomorrow we get to stop in Gunnison and they go on over another mountain pass and for another 40 miles to Crested Butte. But then they haven't been riding for 17 days either. Does make me think it could be fun to come back and do this ride or Ride the Rockies one year down the road.
Today we did some long gradual climbs and passed through range lands and dirt roads leading off to places called Rattlesnake Gulch complete with rattlesnake road kill within 50 yards of the road. You could look down and open canyons snaking below. Cyclists stretched for miles in front and behind us. We noticed we were passing a lot more often than we were passed.
It also turns out that Colorado has wineries ... Who knew. We biked past several wineries ... Tasted a little of the local vino tonight which was pretty good. Hopefully can try some more in the next few days. Finally this afternoon we headed up to the rim of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. In the van - although Brian biked up there - what's another 2000 feet and 20 miles? He got style points for that. The Canyon is impressive - 2700 feet deep and narrow walls. I'd never been and was glad to see it.
Tomorrow we head on to Gunnison - some real climbing and around 65 miles. I'm looking forward to it, even though I've noticed it takes me longer and longer to warm up and my legs protest as I get going again after a stop. On the other hand I'm riding a lot stronger now ... Holding 19 and 20 mph is very doable and climbing is faster. Probably because I've been chasing faster riders for a couple of weeks now. So that's encouraging ... Wonder how fast we'll be going by the end of this trip?
Monday, June 22, 2009
Day 16: Green River to Grand Junction CO ... 97 miles and 97 degrees
Well, the heat finally caught up with us. It was well over 90 today. Heat introduces additional challenges when cycling ... you need more electrolytes, more water, there is more stress on the body as it has to use extra energy to cool itself. While everyone in our group did OK, riding in heat generally gets folks in trouble faster than anything else.
We've been lucky so far. Usually it's 100 degrees in many of the areas we've been cycling through. At most places so far when I've talked to the locals they've been complaining about the rain and unseasonably cool weather. In Green River they are famous for their watermelons, (I was told the sweetest and best in the world and too bad for me that I missed it) and the talk was that this year they would be lucky to have them ripe by the end of August instead of July as usual.
But despite being hot, the ride over was beautiful. All of this country is on the Colorado (river) Plateau, part of the Rocky Mountains. I've always thought of the Rockies as being in Colorado and North and South, but our friendly ranger yesterday pointed out that they actually start with the Wasatch mountains near Salt Lake and end east of Denver. The Plateau with it's buttes are technically part of the Rockies.
Today's ride was mostly desert range with canyonlands to the north and south. White sand, sagebrush and red and pink bluffs in the distance. We did a bit of climbing today ... over 4000 feet. A lot of it was in the first 30 miles in very slight grade climbs that went forever. I kept forgetting I was actually climbing and kept thinking I was just tired and wondered what was wrong with me for feeling so draggy. Then the terrain turned to rollers with relatively gentle climbs and descents and our pace picked up as we rode through range lands. Lots of gophers and saw another antelope. When we crossed the state line to Colorado, the terrain changed quickly. A long climb and then we entered another plateau. We biked along the Colorado river which was muddy brown and the dark red cliffs rose behind the river. The land was green with more grass and trees and red with the dramatic cliffs and canyons. I'm going to like Colorado.
Tons of our riders have had a lot of trouble with flats ... Chris who I ride with often had 3 and others have had multiple flats. I feel badly for them - it's no fun changing a flat in the hot sun. Cross my fingers that my luck holds - I've only had one so far. Now I've probably jinxed it ...
Tomorrow we bike to Montrose and we'll cross paths with Ride Colorado where there are several thousand riders on the same course. Should be fun to talk with other riders and swap stories ... and chaotic with a lot of cyclists on the road.
We've been lucky so far. Usually it's 100 degrees in many of the areas we've been cycling through. At most places so far when I've talked to the locals they've been complaining about the rain and unseasonably cool weather. In Green River they are famous for their watermelons, (I was told the sweetest and best in the world and too bad for me that I missed it) and the talk was that this year they would be lucky to have them ripe by the end of August instead of July as usual.
But despite being hot, the ride over was beautiful. All of this country is on the Colorado (river) Plateau, part of the Rocky Mountains. I've always thought of the Rockies as being in Colorado and North and South, but our friendly ranger yesterday pointed out that they actually start with the Wasatch mountains near Salt Lake and end east of Denver. The Plateau with it's buttes are technically part of the Rockies.
Today's ride was mostly desert range with canyonlands to the north and south. White sand, sagebrush and red and pink bluffs in the distance. We did a bit of climbing today ... over 4000 feet. A lot of it was in the first 30 miles in very slight grade climbs that went forever. I kept forgetting I was actually climbing and kept thinking I was just tired and wondered what was wrong with me for feeling so draggy. Then the terrain turned to rollers with relatively gentle climbs and descents and our pace picked up as we rode through range lands. Lots of gophers and saw another antelope. When we crossed the state line to Colorado, the terrain changed quickly. A long climb and then we entered another plateau. We biked along the Colorado river which was muddy brown and the dark red cliffs rose behind the river. The land was green with more grass and trees and red with the dramatic cliffs and canyons. I'm going to like Colorado.
Tons of our riders have had a lot of trouble with flats ... Chris who I ride with often had 3 and others have had multiple flats. I feel badly for them - it's no fun changing a flat in the hot sun. Cross my fingers that my luck holds - I've only had one so far. Now I've probably jinxed it ...
Tomorrow we bike to Montrose and we'll cross paths with Ride Colorado where there are several thousand riders on the same course. Should be fun to talk with other riders and swap stories ... and chaotic with a lot of cyclists on the road.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Day 15: Price to Green River and Shirley on her Schwinn
When we left Price this morning we were not even 5 miles out of town when we saw the
most beautiful view of mountains with the sun filtering through clouds in visible,
vertical white rays. After at least the 3rd photo stop we were speculating: Could
these mountains already be the Rockies in Colorado? They were huge and dominant.
But as we got closer you could see that these were bit peaks - some over 10k feet -
but they were huge buttes with exposed cliff faces of multicolored rock. Gorgeous.
We were seeing the north end of the Canyon lands and heading to Green River, the
traditional crossroads for the old Spanish Trail, the railroad, pioneers and western
explorers.
It was a 67 mile ride today, and the first half was stop and gawk. We even saw an
antelope.
Then the landscape widened. We could clearly see the striated buttes on the left,
and the lower canyon lands beginning on the right. There were four of us who rode
in together in a good paceline against a strong headwind - Chris, Seattle Bob, Chuck
and I. We have a good system down at this point.
We rode on into Green River, a tiny town of 900. The plan was that I was going to
go with a group to Arches National park, but due to having a mental lapse and
forgetting that the time on my cell was Seattle I missed it. Oops. That's OK. I've
been and it turns out that a white water rafting trip was cancelled due to heavy
rain yesterday that caused mudslides that wiped out the road.
So instead I walked next door to the local city run Green River museum. Tons of info
about the first river exploration down the Green and Colorado Rivers. Very
enthusiastic and bored volunteers running the museum ... I was the only one there.
Chatted with them afterwards and they were helping me figure out the maps and
answering questions about the area. Like it's called the Green River because even
though it's muddy and red now when the melt and rain ends the mud settles and it
becomes Green.
Then walked down to the state park about 1.5 miles away. The ranger was a hoot and
talked with him for a while. Lots more info on the area - nice guy. Headed down to
the water and sat in he shade for a while and then headed back. And met Shirley
coming towards me on her Schwinn.
She had been sitting quietly while the friendly ranger had been talking. But we
went over to the shade and Shirley - who with her husband was volunteering as a camp
host for the summer - is an avid biker. She put over 2000 miles on her Schwinn from
Walmart last year, mostly between 5 and 7 am near her house. That's more outdoor
miles than I put on my new bike training for this ride. GO Shirley GO! She wants
to ride across Missouri for her 65th birthday and needs company. I hope she makes
it. She was awesome.
Dinner was another feed at another restaurant the specialized in quantity over
quality. Which was fine with me - I was hungry. Met a woman at dinner who was
taking a bus from New Jersey to Las Vegas to gamble for 4 days. They were stopping
along the way to check out the sites. She took one look at my legs - the bike tan
line - brown with a 3 inch strip of Seattle pasty white before the shorts start and
said "Oooh baby ... What did you do to your legs?". So then I had to show her my
even funnier glove tan lines with white hands and brown finger tips and wrists.
It's pretty clownish ... Think about how it will look when I'm done.
Right now we are sitting watching the first three days of video of the ride that the
Korean TV station ran. It was so nice of them to give us a rough cut. It's also
1.5 hours long otherwise I'd figure out how to load it up. But they have pretty
much everything on there - eating, riding, climbing. Getting lost.
Tomorrow we hit Colorado. 94 mile ride with some climbing.
most beautiful view of mountains with the sun filtering through clouds in visible,
vertical white rays. After at least the 3rd photo stop we were speculating: Could
these mountains already be the Rockies in Colorado? They were huge and dominant.
But as we got closer you could see that these were bit peaks - some over 10k feet -
but they were huge buttes with exposed cliff faces of multicolored rock. Gorgeous.
We were seeing the north end of the Canyon lands and heading to Green River, the
traditional crossroads for the old Spanish Trail, the railroad, pioneers and western
explorers.
It was a 67 mile ride today, and the first half was stop and gawk. We even saw an
antelope.
Then the landscape widened. We could clearly see the striated buttes on the left,
and the lower canyon lands beginning on the right. There were four of us who rode
in together in a good paceline against a strong headwind - Chris, Seattle Bob, Chuck
and I. We have a good system down at this point.
We rode on into Green River, a tiny town of 900. The plan was that I was going to
go with a group to Arches National park, but due to having a mental lapse and
forgetting that the time on my cell was Seattle I missed it. Oops. That's OK. I've
been and it turns out that a white water rafting trip was cancelled due to heavy
rain yesterday that caused mudslides that wiped out the road.
So instead I walked next door to the local city run Green River museum. Tons of info
about the first river exploration down the Green and Colorado Rivers. Very
enthusiastic and bored volunteers running the museum ... I was the only one there.
Chatted with them afterwards and they were helping me figure out the maps and
answering questions about the area. Like it's called the Green River because even
though it's muddy and red now when the melt and rain ends the mud settles and it
becomes Green.
Then walked down to the state park about 1.5 miles away. The ranger was a hoot and
talked with him for a while. Lots more info on the area - nice guy. Headed down to
the water and sat in he shade for a while and then headed back. And met Shirley
coming towards me on her Schwinn.
She had been sitting quietly while the friendly ranger had been talking. But we
went over to the shade and Shirley - who with her husband was volunteering as a camp
host for the summer - is an avid biker. She put over 2000 miles on her Schwinn from
Walmart last year, mostly between 5 and 7 am near her house. That's more outdoor
miles than I put on my new bike training for this ride. GO Shirley GO! She wants
to ride across Missouri for her 65th birthday and needs company. I hope she makes
it. She was awesome.
Dinner was another feed at another restaurant the specialized in quantity over
quality. Which was fine with me - I was hungry. Met a woman at dinner who was
taking a bus from New Jersey to Las Vegas to gamble for 4 days. They were stopping
along the way to check out the sites. She took one look at my legs - the bike tan
line - brown with a 3 inch strip of Seattle pasty white before the shorts start and
said "Oooh baby ... What did you do to your legs?". So then I had to show her my
even funnier glove tan lines with white hands and brown finger tips and wrists.
It's pretty clownish ... Think about how it will look when I'm done.
Right now we are sitting watching the first three days of video of the ride that the
Korean TV station ran. It was so nice of them to give us a rough cut. It's also
1.5 hours long otherwise I'd figure out how to load it up. But they have pretty
much everything on there - eating, riding, climbing. Getting lost.
Tomorrow we hit Colorado. 94 mile ride with some climbing.
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