Phase IIB – 8Jul2007-24 Aug2007/Canadian Border south to Datil, NM

4 June 2007 to 7 July 2007:

OK, medical test results were positive, the doc had some good advice about how to continue the bike trip and hopefully avoid more high elevation problems.  We spent some time helping Betty’s folks, in Iowa/Minn, move into an assisted living facility before we resumed the bike trip.  The new plan (Plan G or H…or I)  is to go to the Montana – Canadian border and bike south to link up with the point in New Mexico where I left off in June.  Hopefully, this will avoid some of the hot weather in New Mexico. The drive from Iowa to Montana was really enjoyable, we visited the CornPalace in Mitchell, SD, Mount Rushmore and the Crazy Horse blasting in the Black Hills, an interesting Lewis & Clark exhibit along the Missouri River and a thought provoking tour of the Little Big Horn Battlefield.  A short visit with Betty’s niece Tiph and her husband Dennis in Billings, Montana then drive to Malta, Montana and we are ready to launch the next phase of this somewhat convoluted saga.  One reason we are biking south from the Canadian border is that we thought it would be cooler.  But not, it has been over 100 degrees the past few days, setting records all over the state. It was 107 degrees in Missoula yesterday.

8 July 2007:  Day 1 – 43 mi/ 43 Total mi: Canadian border to 11 miles north of Malta, Montana.

Great day!  It rained last night and is much cooler today, temps in the 70’s & 80’s.  We parked the RV in Malta and Betty drove the car 54 miles north and dropped me off at the  border station.  We got a picture at the little obelisk marker and I was off, southbound toward New Mexico.

This is truly “Big Sky” country.  Rolling range land that seems to go forever to far distant horizons in all directions.  Pronghorn antelope may outnumber the cattle.  We also have seen lots of gophers and jackrabbits, plus one porcupine.  The road is paved and I am on my road bike zipping along with little effort, what a great feeling of freedom.  As I coast through Loring (a church, one store, an old wooden grain elevator and three houses), I notice that the one store titled “Bar Cafe” is open.  Ah, lunch!  I was the only customer until two old cowboys, out checking fence in their pickup truck, stopped for a burger. After we had talked for a while, one of them saw the back of my tee shirt which says “Biking Key West to Alaska” and said ‘Hell boy, you’re goin in the wrong direction.’ The other guy said it wouldn’t matter which direction he went if he was biking cause he would have a heart attack in less than a half mile.  They both reckoned it was harder to ride a bike than a horse as we rode off on our separate ways.

We are parked in a beautiful little campground along the MilkRiver (a tributary of the Missouri River which Lewis & Clark scouted, it flows out of Canada).  In the late afternoon other bikers started arriving.  A popular ‘East-West’ trans-continental route  across the northern tier of states is on US-2 which goes through Malta.  We made friends with all four who camped near our rig, all were eastbound.  Two young riders are OhioState students, headed to Maine, a lone rider, Chris, is middle aged and will dip south to ride in RAGBRAI (Register’s Annual Great Ride Across Iowa) later this month.  Dave, a 60 year old heading home to New Hampshire, was pulling a small trailer and cussing the hills and headwinds.  All were very interesting, Betty and I offered them a cold beer as we swapped stories of past and present adventures. Chris also races dirt bikes and has lived in lots of exciting places.  Doug told of all the wild exploits he and his wife have experienced over the years; living in Greece, Africa, the Yucatan and more.  Later in the evening, Dave borrowed Betty’s guitar to pluck out a few quiet tunes as the stories continued.  It was a good evening.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “Always drink upstream of the herd”  from a little carved wooden sign on the wall of ‘Bar Café’ in Loring, MT

9 July 2007: Day 2 – 34 mi/Total-77mi/ to 23 mi south of Malta, MT

Betty dropped me at the starting point and I rode back into Malta to have lunch with her.  Just as I was ready to continue riding south, dark clouds were getting close.  Soon, a squall with strong gusts passed through, I waited for the front to pass.  Later we heard that some gusts were up to 53 mph.  Strong winds with some lighter gusts continued throughout the afternoon.  Winds were WNW and provided a quartering tailwind as I rode south.  Our new found biking friends must have gotten a real boost as they rode eastward. There is very little traffic in this remote part of this sparsely populated state.  Sometimes gusts pushed me nearly to the center of the road; fortunately no traffic was ever within sight (and that is a long way up here).

It is not unusual to see a lot of pronghorn antelope in this part of the West.  Today, nine antelope were about a quarter mile east and running parallel to the road.  They would get ahead of me and wait until I caught up then run ahead again.  They did this 5 or 6 times, seemingly playing a game with me.  What graceful animals.

The wind was still strong late in the afternoon when Betty picked me up.  When we got back to the RV, a 15 foot long limb had fallen only 3 feet from the driver’s side window.  There was no apparent damage.  Corona, fish, asparagus and a garden salad with avocado wrapped up the day.

Cowboy Wisdom: “Never Squat with your spurs on.”

10 July 2007: Day 3 – 33 mi/Total 110mi/to Junction w/MT-66

It is time to leave the Edgewater Campground in Malta MN.  We have spent 3 good nights here and met many interesting people.  Our campsite was right on the MilkRiver under several large cottonwood trees, a railroad trestle was less than a hundred feet beside us.  Each night we were entertained with trains passing by us every 45 minutes or so.  The train’s whistle would sound and over a hundred rail cars would come roaring, seemingly, through the RV rocking the rig as if high winds were buffeting it.  Actually, it was not too disturbing; we were starting to get accustomed to the excitement.

The ride south was inspiring with treeless range land spread endlessly under a wide blue sky.  The range here must get more moisture each year than that which I rode through in New Mexico; it is greener, less arid.  There are lots of rolling hills, even though they are not too high I run out of low gears on the steeper ones.  When we get to the higher mountains, I will have to switch from the thin tired road bike to the fat tired, low geared mountain bike.

Today we passed through the low and ancient Little Rocky Mountains.  This small range with trees, water and small game has been a sacred refuge to many Native American tribes.  Seeking a vision or as a rite of passage, Indian warriors would spend weeks alone in these hills.  We are now dry camped at a wide, graveled spot at the junction of US-191 and MT-66 with the Little Rockies jutting up just north of us.  There is little traffic and it is quiet!

Cowboy Wisdom: In a pickup truck, always sit in the middle, between your mates; you don’t have to drive and you don’t have to mess with the gates.

11July 2007: /Day 4 – 36 mi/Total 146mi/ to Junction w/ MT-19

Cool nights with star filled skies and warm days with scattered clouds seem to be common here. Today a headwind picked up in the afternoon.  We left the CRV at last nights dry camp and drove the RV, with bikes, to the junction of US-191 and MT-19.  Then I rode the 36 miles back to get the CRV. The route today crossed the Missouri River.  The river valley is deep and wide, the River is about 300 feet wide but gets significantly narrower up stream a mile or two.  It was a thrill coasting down into the steep valley and stopping on the bridge to watch the River.  Rugged hills and coulees (smaller dry valleys) that have changed little since the Lewis & Clark Expedition paddled, poled and pulled their boats upriver two hundred and two years ago.  This area of the Missouri was designated as the Charles M. Russell National Wildlife Refuge in 1936.  At 1.1 million acres it is the second largest Refuge in the lower 48 states (there are over 400 national refuges).  In this Refuge, the Missouri widens to form lakes in a few places, Lake Fort Peck is the largest, over 250,000 acres.  There are boat launches, campgrounds and trails throughout the Refuge.  Also the Missouri has been designated a ‘Wild and ScenicRiver’.

The climb up out of the valley was a workout, with only two front chain rings on my road bike, I quickly run out of gears; had to stop twice for a breather and check the scenery.  Fortunately, at this low elevation (3500 ft) there is still lots of oxygen in the air which makes for a quick recovery.

Flashback: Years ago, we lived in Germany and loved to hike in the Alps. Once my sister, Mae, and her family joined us. A Florida girl, unaccustomed to hiking in the mountains, she would stop often, turn away and catch her breath.  When asked if she was OK, she would explain that she was looking at the scenery and point out some interesting feature that the rest of us had not noticed.

So now, I expect to have lots more “scenery checks” as the terrain gets higher and steeper.

Coming up out of the valley, what was a light headwind became much stronger.  The last ten miles went by much more slowly than the first part.  When laboring up steep hills or into the wind, I console myself thinking how much easier this is than when towing all my camping gear on the BOB trailer J.  The little gravel parking area, which will be our dry camp for the night, is a bee-hive of activity when I arrive.  Earlier, when I departed, our RV was the only vehicle, now there are several trucks with trailers, some off loading heavy equipment.  Apparently, a road maintenance crew is using this lot as a staging area.

Once showered, I help Betty on the final stages of a small repair project in the RV.  Earlier, when opening one of the slide-outs, the passenger’s chair was adjusted a bit too far back and a six foot high panel was ripped off the slide-out.  A small portion of the wood actually broke off and a dozen small nails and several screws were torn out.  Now, the final bit of gluing has dried and we are back in operation with only a hint of any indication there was ever an incident; just enough to remind us to be more careful of this in the future.

We turn the generator on, cook a pizza and wash it down with a beer (me) and a glass of wine (Betty) and watch an old VCR tape, The Sunshine Boys with Walter Matthau and George Burns.

Cowboy Wisdom:  When you have a burr under your saddle, you’re liable to ride into trouble.

12 July 2007: Day 5 – 46 mi/ Total 192 mi/ to Jct of US-87 & CR-244

We hitched the car to the RV and I started riding south on MT-19.  Soon, Betty drove by me on her way to GrassRange.  Twenty-Two miles flew by in the cool morning hours and soon I met Betty.  We parked in a small RV campsite and had lunch in their café.  During the heat of the day we read and relaxed in air-conditioned comfort.  About 4pm when it started to cool a bit, I continued riding south on US-87.  The plan was for Betty to wait a couple of hours then drive the CRV down to pick me up and we would return to the campsite at GrassRange.  Each day, as we get a little closer to Billings and other larger towns, the traffic has increased.  Now a vehicle seems to go by every few minutes.  Most drivers move into the oncoming lane as they pass me.  If there is an oncoming vehicle at the same time one is approaching from the rear, I get way over to the right.  If the road has a paved shoulder at that point all is well, if not it can be tight.  If I see that either vehicle is oversized or a tractor-trailer and there is no shoulder, I sometimes get over into the weeds and stop to let them pass.  Some vehicles will slow to my pace and follow along behind until they can safely pass.  If possible, I try to arrange it so they don’t have to do that because some will try to pass no matter how tight it is.

Lots of long hills, some heavy breathing and soon I find a wide gravel parking area at the junction of County Road 244.  There are some oil wells in the field next to the road.  After some water and a few minutes to cool down, Betty arrives.  Back at the RV, a shower, a beer, light dinner and we are both reading.  I drift off before finishing the first page.

Cowboy Wisdom:

If it’s a fence, mend it; if it’s a dollar spend it.

If it’s a load, truck it; if it’s a punch, duck it.

If it’s a job, do it, really put your back into it.

If it’s a horse, ride it; if it hurts, hide it.

From the song “Cowboy Logic” by Michael Martin Murphy

13 July 2007: Day 6 – 44 mi/Total 236 mi/ To 24 mi S. of Roundup, MT

We packed up the car and RV and drove south; Betty dropped me and the road bike along the way and she continued 20 miles to Roundup, MT.  With a few ups and downs the miles slipped by rather quickly.  We have now added a coyote, bobcat and prairie dogs to our critter list.  When I arrived in Roundup, Betty had already unhitched and gotten permission from the owner, Carol, to park in a gravel lot beside her Next Generation Grille.  We had a great lunch there, after which Carol showed us some interesting features of her restaurant, very nice.  We then made arrangements to park for the night at the Ideal Motel and RV Campground.  It is owned by a retired Air Force couple and it has full hook-ups including cable and Wi-Fi; a good set up and friendly folks.

After lunch, we read and relaxed until the outside temps eased a bit.  About 5 pm, I biked south on US-87.  The first 10 miles were a gradual climb uphill; actually, so gradual that it was an easy but long climb. Then, a 30 plus mph breeze down for a couple of miles, some ups & downs and soon Betty tooted as she passed by me.  She pulled off onto the solid grass shoulder, I loaded my bike, marked the spot with some orange flagging and we drove back to Roundup.

After a couple of beers and a wine at the Grille, we had a late dinner and more interesting conversation with Carol.  Our waiter, Chuck, is the only guy I have met who actually had “Chuck” listed on his birth certificate.  Back at the rig, we watched “Man vs Wild” on the Discovery channel.  I had heard about it, but time, location, TV reception and our schedule had never before lined up for it to happen.  I found it a bit hokey and overly dramatic but full of information and good ideas; kind of a cross between “Trailside” and Steve Irwin.  I’ll watch more closely for it in the future; Fridays at 9pm MDST.

Cowboy Wisdom:  Some folks learn by listening, some by watching . . . and then there are those that have to urinate on the electric fence and find out for themselves.  Anonymous  (provided by Michael Owens.

14 July 2007: Day 7 – 27mi/ Total 263 mi/ To Billings, MT

It’s moving day!  We drove the RV, towing the car, to the KOA Campground in Billings, got set up, did some errands and cooled our heels until the outside temperature also cooled a little.  Almost everyday it peaks in the high 90’s.

About 6:30pm, Betty drove me back to yesterday’s stopping point.  Not long after I started riding, the western sky got dark and it was suddenly cooler.  Lightning was flashing in the southwestern sky, too far away to hear the thunder.  It seems I might have waited until too late to start riding.  During a water break, I turned on both the little headlight and a flashing tail light.  Most likely no one can see them but they make me feel better.  I am able to ride on a narrow paved shoulder about a foot right of the white line.  The riding is exhilarating; either level or downhill, it is cool and I am flying along racing day light.  Soon I descend into the YellowstoneRiver valley; I can see Billings along the River in the distance.  Traffic increases as I close on Billings.  After a couple of close calls, I use the cell phone to call Betty, “Time to pick me up”.  We agree to meet at Fuddruckers on the north edge of Billings.  A few raindrops are falling by the time I get to our meeting point; Betty arrives a few minutes later.  It is nearly 9 pm and we decide to eat there.  The Moose Drool is refreshing.

Cowboy Wisdom: You miss a lot when you travel at a gallop.

From ‘Horse Sense’ by Texas Bix Bender.  Many of the bits in following days will be from Texas Bix.

15 July 2007: Day 8 – 0 mi/Total 263 mi/In Billings, MT

We are taking a rest day and will get some needy chores done, restock the pantry and visit with our niece, Tiph, and her husband, Dennis.  Tiph is expecting her first child soon, actually it was due yesterday.  Dennis is a mountain biker so I asked if he would get some spare Kevlar tires at his favorite bike shop.  He brought them when he a Tiph came to dinner.  It was a good evening, but no emergency runs to the hospital.  L

Cowboy Wisdom:  “Don’t do nothin’ too much.”  Texas Bix

16 July 2007: Day 9 – 31 mi/Total 294 mi/To 12 mi S of Laurel, MT

We got some administrivia accomplished this morning.  Then, Betty& Tiph went out for some shopping and lunch while I caught up on some email and other important computer stuff (like what is happening with the Tour de France and where is the stock market).

Later in the afternoon, Betty takes the two dogs for a clipping, then drops me and my bike at Fuddruckers.  It was still beastly hot, it was tempting to lock the bike to a post and go inside for a few cold ones while watching ESPN.  However, no good excuses came to mind for use when I needed to call Betty for a pick-up.

The ride through Billings was pleasant and went by quickly.  Next, I was on a frontage road, with very little traffic, along I-90 going west.  At Laurel, I turned south on US-310/US-212.  A narrow shoulder and lots of pickup truck drivers anxious to get home from work keep me focused.  Betty calls at 7pm to find out where I am (not Fuddruckers, drinking beer, thank goodness).  About a half-hour later, I pull off at the wide entrance of a Rail Road salvage yard (lotsa RR ties, trestle material, etc).  Before I can get my helmet and biking gloves off, she is there.  Soon we are back at the KOA Campground, having a beer/wine and a super salad.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “You don’t have to see the light to feel the heat”.  Texas Bix

17 July 2007: Day 10 – 49 mi/Total 343 mi/ To Frannie, WY

It’s moving day again, we have now been parked at the KOA in Billings, MT for 3 days.  We drive to Frannie, just a couple of miles into Wyoming, and find a large gravel parking lot on the south side of town.  It is surrounded by a ball field, picnic area, water tower and US-310.  Just beyond the picnic area is a border inspection station for large trucks.  Trying to look unobtrusive, we don’t put all the slides out and no lawn chairs, etc.  We unhitch, have lunch and wait for the weather to cool a bit.  About 3pm, Betty drives me back to the start point, it is still hot as I bike south on US-310.  There is no wind, a wide shoulder most of the way and gently rising terrain.  We are in a wide valley between the PriorMountains on the east and the Rocky Mountains on the west.  The, lower, PriorMountains are only a few miles away; they were named for Sergeant Nathaniel Prior a member of the Lewis & Clark Expedition.  A couple of the peaks in the Priors are over ten thousand, we can see a few patches of snow still lingering.  Much farther away to the west we can see the snow capped, 12,000 feet plus, peaks of the massive Gallatin Range of the Rockies in YellowstoneNational Park.  The elevation of our route so far has been near 3,000 feet, the last couple of days we have been slowly climbing, Frannie, WY is 4,219 feet.  By the time we get to the middle of Wyoming, we will cross the Continental Divide and stay relatively high on through Colorado and into New Mexico.

About an hour into today’s ride, dark clouds appear in the west and a strong westerly cross-wind tries to push me into the middle of the highway.  Within minutes, it gets darker and large cold raindrops smack me, then small hailstones, the size of blueberries, are driven nearly sideways by the wind.  Ahh, a small sign indicating a Rest Stop in one-half mile.  Not a moment too soon, as I push my bike into a sheltered corner of the restroom entry, it starts raining hard.  A lady and her young daughter are the only other folks there.  She said she saw me struggling to stay upright and thought her car was going to get blown off the road.  After a few minutes, the wind subsides and they leave.  The rain continues so I wait, making use of the time by having a Snickers bar that is tucked away in a small pouch on the bike.  The chocolate has melted and re-melted during the past several days, but, is great; just a little messy.

It is cool and still sprinkling as I ride away. Soon, I pass through the small town of Bridger, named for Jim Bridger, the trapper, scout and guide who roamed about the Rockies in the early 1800’s. In the middle of town there is an interesting metal sculpture of him on horseback talking to an Indian.  In BridgerPark, there are historical markers that indicate that he often came to a trading-post here to sell furs and get supplies before disappearing into the mountains again. A creek near here is also named after him.

Now I have a strong quartering headwind.  After a half-hour weather delay, and now fighting a headwind, I wonder if I will make it to Frannie before Betty comes looking for me.  Cell phone coverage is non-existent in much of this area so, each day, we set a time at which Betty will start driving back to retrieve me.  Today we decided on 8:30pm.  After a couple of hours, the wind eases some and shifts to the side, then even behind me.  The miles start slipping by more easily, by the time I am 15 miles from the day’s finish, I am flying along at 26 mph on level terrain.  Tail winds sometimes slip up on a rider.  I always know when I have a headwind, but sometimes I like to think I am just riding strong and fast when really I’m getting a significant tailwind boost.  Now I am averaging 25 with spurts over 30 mph, I love it.  Too soon the day’s journey has ended; it is only 7:15pm, much earlier than I had anticipated only an hour ago.

It is Tuesday evening, time for Betty’s favorite TV program, NCIS.  She has managed to get the Direct TV dish locked in on the proper satellite (always a challenge) and has warmed up some leftover beef stew.  A hot shower, stew and brew and the right program to view.  We are both content.

Cowboy Wisdom:  Never miss a good chance to shut-up.

18 July 2007: Day 11 – 52 mi/Total 395/ To Greybull, MT

It was a quiet cool night. We had the parking area all to ourselves and there was very little traffic after 10pm. This morning, Betty drove ahead with the rig and I followed on the bike.  We planned to meet in Lovell, WY for lunch.  The highway parallels the Bighorn River and, farther east, the Bighorn Mountains which include the National Cloud Wilderness with Cloud Peak as the highest point at 13,167 feet.  We crossed the Shoshone River which, like the GreybullRiver, flows into the Bighorn.  Many of the small towns in this area, like Deaver, Cowley, Byron and Lovell were settled by the Mormons around 1900.  They established schools, railroads, canals for irrigation and more making this dry, remote part of the country livable.

Crops in this area seem to be mostly wheat and hay.  Near the road, there are concrete lined, open aqueducts and ditches zigzagging through fields bringing water for irrigation.  Some fields have many white structures spaced around their edges.  Each is about 4 ft x 10 ft and 6 ft tall, the east side is always open.  We wondered ‘What can be the use of it is more than I can see’; a shaded storage space for workers’ lunches or freshly picked produce, a weirdly shaped portajohn???  Finally curiosity got the best of me and when I passed one that was reasonably close to road, I laid my bike against an irrigation ditch bank and walked a few hundred feet into a field to check it out.  I just happened to be approaching from the back side, when about 3 feet away I looked around the side and saw a solid black mass of bees swarming around the hives stacked on shelves inside.  Wow, time for a hasty but orderly retreat.  Quickly, I backed up, turned around and walked away trying not to seem excited.  As best I could tell, none followed.  That could have been a disaster.  As I rode off, I replayed the event in my mind and could imagine many less desirable outcomes and how the headlines might have read: “Biker Hospitalized With Thousands Of Bee Stings” or “Curiosity Killed the Biker” or maybe “Bees Best Biker”.  Evidently the bees are placed there to pollinate crops.  I think this field was a type of clover, but not alfalfa.

After lunch in Lovell, we drove the rig to an RV Park in Greybull and rested until the outside temps cooled, then Betty drove me back to Lovell for a late afternoon ride.  Looking south through a blue haze, high mountains seem to block our route in the distance.  A hint of what we will find in the next few days.  Now, there are long easily graded hills through a beautiful wasteland not unlike the Badlands of the Dakotas.  The farming is mostly within a few miles of a town. But, between towns there is only sparse vegetation and almost no trees.  Once, while stopping for a break, I realized I had moved to stand in the shade of a utility pole and thought how precious shade is on a hot day.  After lots of ups and downs, I arrived in Greybull, elevation 3892 feet, this is 327 feet lower than last night.  Something doesn’t seem right here, we should be getting higher each day, acclimatizing, slowly easing up to the higher mountains and the Divide.  But, not today.

At the Green Oasis Campground in Greybull, our new neighbor is Dave who is on a circuit with a Western Show.  They have a show that involves a stagecoach chase, shootouts, some rodeo events, etc.  Dave does rope twirling and whip tricks.  He is eager to relay his life story at every opportunity; wish he had read yesterday’s Cowboy Wisdom.

Tomorrow will be a non-biking day.  We plan to drive to YellowstoneNational Park, about one hundred miles due west of us.

Cowboy Wisdom:  There are two theories to arguing with a woman.  Neither one works.

Relayed by Susan O’Brien (our daughter)

19 Jul 07: Day 12 – 0 mi/Total 395 mi/ Sightseeing

No biking today, we are off to visit YellowstoneNational Park.  It is about 100 miles west of Greybull and US -16 is pretty much a straight shot between the two.  It has been 40 years since we last visited Yellowstone; it is still just as impressive as we had remembered it.  Beautiful mountains and lakes, wildlife, steam vents, geysers, boiling pools; “Fire burn and cauldron bubble”.  There were buffalo just about everywhere, even on the roads.  We saw a wolf as we were exiting late in the afternoon.  There are more people visiting than we encountered before, but it didn’t really seem crowded.  The largest concentration was at the Old Faithful complex and that is so spread out that the numbers weren’t so noticeable.  We really enjoyed it and are glad we took the time off to visit this national treasure.  A side note: it costs $25 for an entry pass which is good for 7 days, however, if you are 62 years or older, you can get an “America The Beautiful Pass” (previously known as ‘GoldenAgePass’) for only $10 and it is good for life. It includes everyone in your vehicle and is good at all National Parks, Monuments, etc, BLM, National Forest Service, and many other public lands.  They are easily obtained at the entrance to any of these national facilities; I got mine at the Shark River entrance to EvergladesNational Park.  It is truly a “Magic Card”, if you or anyone in your home is 62 or over, ‘don’t leave home without it’.

On the long, dark eastward drive back to Greybull we were entertained with a spectacular display of lightning, for over an hour the eastern sky was alive with flashing bolts in the distance.  Every few seconds, there were cloud to cloud or cloud to ground strikes; sometimes the clouds were illuminated without seeing the bolts.  Most of my memories of dynamic thunderstorms are great, especially if I was warm, dry and safe.

Cowboy Wisdom:  Never order food the waitress recommends against.

Learned at Wapiti Lodge; Wapiti, Wyoming.  A few miles east of YellowstoneNational Park

20 Jul 07: Day 13 – 38mi/Total 433mi/To Worland, Wyoming

It rained last night.  Raindrops on the roof of the RV are a bit like taps on a drum; it’s a good way to drift off.

But now, it’s a new day all washed clean.  Trees and grass all look fresher, dusty roads get a break; the morning seems cooler and more alive.  Betty drives the rig 38 miles to Worland.  I bike along enjoying this mostly desolate land.  There are fields near flowing water, either naturally flowing as in rivers and creeks, or flowing through irrigation canals, ditches and pipes.  Just a mile or so from water sources, it is like a desert, even grazing is not evident.

At about the halfway point, I see a little Café/Bar in a wide spot in the road called Maderson, population 151.  Lunchtime.  Two mongrel looking, barking dogs greet me; they growl and show their teeth as they get closer.  This is the point where I like for the owner to whistle or call out then tell me how peace loving his dogs are.  Not this time.  I kept the bike between us, spoke to them and reached over the bike so they could sniff the back of my hand.  It worked, I think the ammonia in my biking gloves from days of dried sweat overwhelmed them J.  They started wagging their tails and returned to their shady spot near a pickup parked under the only tree within sight.  Inside were about a half-dozen tables, most were taken by a lone male.  A sun wrinkled, old guy, wearing jeans, boots and cowboy hat, drawled “Heard my dogs, guess they didn’t bother ya none”.  I told him they make friends quickly; he seemed disappointed.  I ordered the special of the day, a fish sandwich.  The cute young waitress said that, so far, I was the only one ordering the special.  She told me most folks here like burgers and beef, but the cook needs to get rid of some excess fish.  It was good.

Back on the bike, damn it is hot.  Generally, I try to take a break about every 10 miles, sometimes on hot afternoons that becomes about every five miles.  This is one of those afternoons.  Betty calls to tell me she has found a large gravel parking lot on the north side of town.  We will be dry camping there for the night.  Soon I am there.  Cool down, have a cold bottle of water, a shower and life is looking pretty good.

Cowboy Wisdom:  Never kick a fresh cowpie on a hot day.

From Dribbleglass website, relayed by Susan O’Brien

21 Jul 07: Day 14 – 36mi/Total 469mi/To Thermopolis, WY

A nearby railroad track brought lonesome whistles and the clickity-clack of trains rolling through several times during the night.  This is getting to be a constant occurrence and we are getting accustomed to it.  For several days we have been moving south through the BighornBasin and a railroad parallels highway US-20.

This morning I rode out a few minutes ahead of Betty, but soon I heard her sound the air horn and the rig passed me on the way to Thermopolis.  Riding in the morning hours is much cooler than the late afternoon.  Also, riding on a grayish highway surface is significantly cooler than on a dark black surface.  With about 10 miles yet to go, I stopped at an historical marker and learned a bit about the Bridger Trail that crossed the Bighorn River near here.  As I rested in the shade, a van stopped beside me and a man got out and was trying to ask me questions, but had such a heavy accent that I had difficulty understanding what he wanted.  Turns out, he was from Argentina and is working as a pipe fitter for an oil company.  His English wasn’t much better than my Spanish, so it was with some animation that I found he wanted to go to YellowstoneNational Park but had taken a wrong turn.  We got his map out and I oriented him, this worked so well we continued to “talk” about some other things.  Estevez, has been working in Wyoming for a couple of months and is paid well but welders make much more (anyone using a hot torch on a gas pipeline in 100 degree plus heat should be paid more – a lot more.)

About noon, I coasted down into Thermopolis.  It seems to be a nice small town, clean, modern school, some interesting restaurants and home of the largest mineral hot spring in the world.  On the cell phone, Betty told me she was at Eagle RV Camp south of town.  As I rolled in, Tim, one of the owners, was working with some sprinkler hoses and directed me to our rig.  During the hot afternoon (103 degrees), Betty worked on the Alligator Ambler newsletter and I read; all in air conditioned comfort.  We take advantage of a lot of amenities while in established campgrounds: A/C, dump holding tanks, fill fresh water tanks, charge batteries (RV, computer, cell phones, camera, etc), use the on-board washer & dryer, check e-mail on Wi-Fi, post journal and more.  Outside, I was talking with Tim again, he asked lots of questions about our trip.  He and his wife, Nancy, are on their own adventure.  Less than a year ago they moved here from Reno and bought this RV Park.  It is easy to see that they are working hard to make it better each day.  They are a friendly young couple, very upbeat and always on the go.

It’s Saturday night, time to kick up, well maybe only dinner out for us.  La Fuentes had great Mexican food, margaritas and beer. They had the recently introduced “Chill” beer made by Miller Brewing Co.  I had it while biking in New Mexico and wanted Betty to try it.  It is meant to be like the Mexican drink Cholada, a mix of beer, lime/lemon & salt, and maybe more.  We split one and went back to margaritas and Corona.

Cowboy Wisdom:  Never smack a man who is chewin tobacco.

From “Horse Sense” by Texas Bix Bender

22Jul07: Day 15 – 32mi/Total 501mi/To Shoshoni, WY

Last night, the outside activity wasn’t limited to trains, the folks beside us in a 5^th wheel camper were here for a 20^th High School Reunion, we saw their festivities at La Fuentes earlier last evening and it was quite late as they returned to their rig.  Another bunch of tent campers next to us kept vigil with a camp fire until the wee hours of the morning.  Actually, both groups were quiet and well behaved, but, when I took Mitzie, the little dog, for a walk at 2am, I would like to have joined the folks at the campfire; however, they seemed to be doing well without me.

This morning, while putting some new tires on the mountain bike, Tim was watering hard to reach areas of the camp.  He asked if we were biking for a cause and I told him why we had chosen the American Cancer Society.  Later he and Nancy gave us a generous donation for the ACS and told us how cancer had twice struck members of their family. I assured them that every cent of every donation goes to ACS and later Betty took them a receipt and thanked them.

After working on the tires and some other delays we decided to leave the CRV here and drive the RV to Shoshoni, then I will bike back to the car.  A side note here: the town and the tribe are spelled Shoshoni and the National Forest is spelled Shoshone (the Word spellchecker likes Shoshone)??  Just a few miles south of Thermopolis, we entered Wind River Canyon, beautiful narrow and deep extending 14 miles.  It seemed that we just kept descending into it; I was dreading the return bike ride.  Out of the canyon, which is an Indian Reservation, through BoysenState Park and across about 10 miles of “badlands” and we come to Shoshoni.  We set up to dry camp in a large nearly vacant gravel parking lot just west of town.  It was over 100 degrees so I waited until about 4pm and started biking back to Thermopolis and the Eagle RV Park to our car.  It was a beautiful ride.  The canyon was captivating.  What had originally seemed like a steep descent into the canyon was actually and optical illusion, the cliffs on both side just kept getting higher while the road was pretty much level and the river was actually flowing northward.  I liked the feeling of being surrounded by such massive vertical walls and the green Wind River rushing between the road and a rail road both cut into opposite walls of the canyon. I stopped many times to search for Big Horn Mountain Sheep which are reportedly plentiful in this area, but not.  Back at the Eagle RV Park, I again thanked Tim & Nancy for their donation and got a quick photo of them before loading the bike on the CRV and driving back to our little dry camp outside Shoshoni.

Betty had gotten he Direct TV dish to cooperate and had already seen Sixty Minutes.  I did get back in time for ‘Happy Hour’, Man vs Wild and dinner.

Good Night!

Cowboy Wisdom:  Never drop your gun to hug a grizzly.  Texas Bix

23Jul07: Day 16 – 60mi/Total 561mi/To Sweetwater Station, WY

It will be a long day so we get an early start.  The mornings are reasonably cool until about 10am then temps seem to jump up about 10 degrees per hour, topping out at just above 100 degrees by early afternoon.  The first few miles are cool and I feel fresh and fly right along.  About 30 minutes later, Betty toots the air horn as she passes.  She will stop in Riverton, 22 miles from last night’s camp.  Later she calls to say she has parked in a large K-Mart lot, I’ll stop by for a cool drink and snack as I pass through.  She also asks if the three female bikers she saw behind me have caught me.  No, they haven’t, maybe I should slow down.

A quick refreshment stop in Riverton and I am back on the road while Betty runs some errands.  As I got on the street, I was right behind 2 female bikers.  They are moving well but after a couple of miles, I go left to follow a back road, they continue to Landers, the same direction Betty will take with the RV.  The 35 mile shortcut I am taking will save 30 miles of biking, there is almost no traffic and it has few hills.  But one is a dilly, it goes steeply up for miles.  I run out of gears, go slow and take lots of ‘scenery breaks’.  Not only is it steep but it is now hot, I am sucking up water so fast that I have to start rationing it. I still have seven miles from the hill top before I get to Sweetwater Station where I will meet Betty.  About a mile before I get to Sweetwater, I see Betty driving the CRV up to check on me, even better she has a cold Pepsi for me.

At Sweetwater, we load the bike and drive to Sleeping Bear Ranch RV Park where Betty has already parked the RV and hooked up all the utilities.  I shower, have 3 bottles of water and flake out for an hour.   Oh yes, she tells me the bikers we saw earlier were part of a group of about 20 who are on a supported trans-continental ride across America.  This morning I saw their support vehicle pass me, It had “Bike and Build” on the back of their trailer.

We are now at an elevation just above 6,000 ft., tomorrow we will cross the Continental Divide at about 7,000 ft and will stay at that level for several days.  During the past 3 weeks we have been slowly climbing and, hopefully, acclimating.  Additionally, to insure I don’t have some of the altitude related problems that I had in New Mexico, I will start taking low doses of Diamox.  This powerful prescription drug has helped many avoid altitude sickness.  The bad news is: the doc cautioned against use of alcohol while taking Diamox.  Hey, it’s hot here, I need fluids.  What about ‘Happy Hour”, attitude adjustment, mellowing after a trying day, sampling local products, low level cultural exchange, and more?

Cowboy Wisdom:  Never follow good whiskey with water, unless you’re out of good whiskey.                    From:  Beer – bytch Website, relayed by Susan O’Brien

24Jul07: Day 17 – 22mi//Total 583/To Jeffrey City

When we awoke this morning, the Sleeping Bear Ranch RV Park had no water.  Apparently both of their well pumps have failed, parts may arrive later today.  Unfortunately, our onboard fresh water tank is only one third level full.  Also we had planned to refill our kitchen jugs this morning.  We have at least three different types of water we use while traveling:

1. Water that comes from a city water system or well.  We filter this water and use it for coffee, cooking, filling the kitchen jugs for later use. This water is also used for showering and dishes while hooked up in an RV park.

2. Water from a city system or well that we store in the onboard 90 gal tank.  This is used for showering, washing dishes, etc while dry camping.  Not for drinking because the tank is fiberglass and also over time sediment from various sources tend to collect in the tank.

3. Purchased drinking water, both gallon jugs and cases of smaller bottles.

So now that the RV park water system is inop, we have adequate drinking water for the next three days but little for anything else.  We expect to be dry camping for at least two nights, maybe three.  We could drive back to Lander and fill up, a 60 mile round trip, but decide to push on.  If we don’t find an opportunity to tank up, we will dry camp one or two nights then drive ahead into Rawlins, find an RV park and Betty will drive me back in the car so I can bike toward Rawlins each day.

By the time we figure all this out, it is hot.  We drive the rig to the Rest Stop at Sweetwater Station where I finished yesterday.  Betty fills some jugs from a slow drinking fountain and I start biking eastward on US-287 / WY-789.  This stretch of highway is quite historic.  From Sweetwater Station east for about 50 miles, this very route was part of the Oregon Trail, the Mormon Trail, the California Trail and the Pony Express route.  As for the 2,000 mile Oregon Trail; various trails farther east led to CasperWyoming, joined there and came through here.  At Sweetwater, the Oregon Trail dipped a bit south of the current highway so they could cross the Continental Divide through South Pass a few miles southwest.

The Pony Express riders moved along here considerably faster than I am.  A headwind and starting in the mid-day heat make for slow going.  Betty will pull the rig off at JeffreyCity and wait for me, then, we’ll decide what we will do next.  JeffreyCity never was a city and now it is mostly a ghost town.  I can spot our rig a mile away parked along and old street parallel to the highway.  Riding past an old bar, a general store, bowling alley, package store and more, it is obvious that all have been closed for several years.  While I cool and rehydrate, we discuss our options, if we stop after only 22 miles for the day, we may have to dry camp 3 nights before reaching Rawlins.  As we talk, Betty sees a sign next to our rig: “RV Park – Open”.  I chuckle, but she wants to check it out.  Hey, a couple of vacant blocks away, several RVs and trailers are parked, all hooked up but no one around.  Apparently, workers from oil fields, road and other construction jobs stay here.  A little sign on a door says to write a check, put the site number on the check and stick it through the door.

OK, we are hooked up, with a full tank of fresh water, A/Cs warding off the high temps and Betty has the sat-dish aimed for receiving NCIS this evening.  Pretty nice.

“How I long for a timbered country.”

“These everlasting hills have an everlasting barrenness.”

“In a thousand miles, I have not seen a hundred acres of wood.”

From the journals of Oregon Trail pioneers as they passed near Sweetwater Station

25Jul07: Day 18 – 35mi/Total 618/To Lamont, WY

We got and early start.  As I rode off,  Betty was preparing to wash the bugs and some dust off both the RV and the car.  Our little campsite is quiet, I have seen only one person since we arrived, Betty said she saw a couple of guys going to or returning from work; kind of spooky.

It is cool this morning and I roll along putting easy miles behind me.  North of the highway is Split Rock, a cleft at the top of one of the highest spires in the RattlesnakeMountains.  It looks like a huge rear site on a rifle; it can be seen for many miles from both the east and the west.  It was a landmark and navigational aid for Indians, guides and emigrants.  At the base of Split Rock, near the present highway, were a stage station and a Pony Express Post.  Local historians say that Bill Cody (later aka Buffalo Bill) was assigned here as a Pony Express rider.  Legend is that Cody once rode his route of about 35 miles, then rode the route of other riders who weren’t available, only to have to also ride the same return route.  Over 300 miles in a little over 20 hours; huuum!  Another time he is said to have ridden 28 miles at an all out gallop to stay ahead of attacking Indians.

This route is not only the path of historic trails but was also used in the 1976 Bi-Centennial Ride Across America bicycle adventure.  It is now known as the TransAmerican Bike Trail (Cape Cod to San Francisco –I think).  We have seen about a dozen bikers on this stretch of highway.

At Muddy Gap, I turn south, WY-220 continues east and is the route emigrants followed.  Independence Rock is about 10 miles east of Muddy Gap.  Ten miles later, I climb over the Continental Divide at about 7,000 feet, and into the Great Divide Basin.  The Basin (an oval about 50 mi x 75 mi) is an unusual geological feature.  The water that falls just behind me flows, eventually, to the Gulf of Mexico & Atlantic Ocean.  Water that falls on this side of the Divide and into the Basin, stays in the Basin.  A few miles west of here, the Continental Divide splits with one portion coming this way and the other going southwest around the Basin.  Water there flows into the Basin on the east side and toward the Pacific Ocean on the west side.  About 50 miles south of here, the “Divides” join again on the south side of the Basin.

I meet Betty in Lamont, population 3.  We have lunch at the only business in town, Grandma’s Café then drive the rig forward to Rawlins, population 9,000 plus.  Betty has several support chores to accomplish: get the computer “debugged”, pick-up some mail at a local post office, re-supply and other stuff she doesn’t tell me about.  She finds RV World RV Park which has Wi-Fi, now to get the computer working again.

Cowboy Wisdom:  If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging.

From Dribble Glass website relayed by Susan O’Brien

26Jul07: Day 19 – 35mi/Total 653mi/To Rawlins, WY

It started raining last night and has been raining off and on ever since.  The morning is cool, but no rain.  Betty takes me back to Lamont.  I ride wearing a windbreaker for the first time on this trip.  Easy miles fly by in the cool air.  About 7 miles along the way, it starts sprinkling again.  The jacket feels good, but it is only water resistant.  Soon it is really raining.  I can feel the rooster-tail of water thrown off the rear tire, soaking my backside.  Fortunately, there is a wide shoulder.  Large trucks send a wall of spray on me as they pass, visibility is the pits. The rain keeps pouring.  Back on the Indiana farm of my youth, they called rains like this “soakers”, a moderate amount of water over a long period that can soak into the ground, yet not enough to cause flooding.  Well, I am now soaked and have about 25 miles to go.  It has been mostly flat in the Basin, so even with the rain I can make pretty good time.  Not good, the shoulder has narrowed from about 8 ft to about 18 inches.  Plus, the surface is much rougher.  Let see: poor visibility, rain, spray, big trucks, narrow shoulder, rough pavement – what am I doing here?  Oh, and no cell service to call Betty to “beam me up”.  I could push the bike along the steep bank, but for 25 miles?  As I press on, it seems a little lighter on the horizon in front of me, maybe the rain will let up soon.  After about 10 miles, the shoulder widened again, 5 more miles and the rain eased to only a sprinkle.  It is a long climb up out of the Basin and across the Continental Divide again, 7140 feet.  Soon the rain stops, the road starts drying and I stop to take off my wet jacket and tee shirt.  I wring lots of water out of both and put the shirt back on.

While pulling on the tee shirt, a pickup truck turns onto the gravel road I am using as a rest stop.  It is a BLM (Bureau of Land Management) vehicle; the driver asked if I need help.  I take the opportunity to quiz him about the area.  It seems that about 90% of the land here is controlled by BLM.  Yes, the herds of horses we have been seeing are wild.  They have no natural predators, so each year BLM rounds up some to put up for adoption.  No, the Basin does not fill up with water, it either soaks in or evaporates.

It is cool but feels good now pedaling down off the Divide into Rawlins.  When I stop at  the RV, I get chilled almost immediately.  While I shower, Betty fixes some hot soup for lunch.  I get into long pants and a long sleeved fleece; also the first time for these on this trip.

All is well, I warm up, Betty retrieves her repaired laptop and no more rain.  Just cool weather.

Cowboy Wisdom:  A wild horse has more secrets than a gentle one.

From Horse Sense by Texas Bix Bender

27Jul07: Day 20 – 45mi/Total 688/To Overland Trail crossing

Betty is off to the Post Office in Sinclair again today as I start biking.  Two minutes later I am on I-80 westbound.  Geez, the traffic is heavy and really moving fast, the speed limit is 75 mph and some must be doing 90.  For a month, I have been living in a 10-20 mph world.  Now I feel like I have strayed onto the track of the Daytona 500.  I hug the right side of the safety lane and 26 miles later it is over.   Along the way, I crossed the Continental Divide and again was in the Great Divide Basin.  At Creston Junction, I meet Betty.  We will be taking WY-798 south, eventually, into Colorado.   I bike south and Betty will wait an hour or so and drive the car down to pick me up.  We will dry camp in the parking lot of an abandoned gas station at Creston Junction.  The only activity here is a fireworks store across the highway, the owner lives in a trailer there: so Creston Population 1.

About 12 miles south and I cross the Divide again and am out of the Basin again.  With a light tailwind and mostly flat terrain, I fly along with ease.  When I see an historical marker at my 45 mile point, I decide to call it a day and wait for Betty.  The large pull-off area will make it easy for her to drop me off here, in the morning, when driving the RV.

The marker told about the Overland Trail which crossed here.  In the 1860s, it was a route west for emigrants, freight, mail, and stage coach transportation.  At this point it is about 90 miles south of the Oregon Trail although they do overlap in both Nebraska and west of the Rockies.  The Ben Holladay’s Stage Company had “swing stations” about every 25 miles to provide fresh teams, every 50 miles was a “home station” for a change of drivers and place for passengers to eat and spend the night.  We could clearly see the old ruts from stage and wagon wheels, some places there were still indentations nearly 2 feet deep.

“From the Platte west to Ft Bridger…is one almost uninterrupted panorama of barren hills, sandy plains, ugly tortuous ravine, and blank desolation.  All life and all living things seem to be gone”

                                                                        Overland Trail traveler:   Demas Barnes, 1866

“Cold, discomfort, and misery; may I never see the like again!”

                                                                        A traveler describing a home stage station

28Jul07: Day 21 – 43mi/Total 731mi/To 11mi S of Baggs, WY

We drive the rig to the start point, Betty lets me off and she continues 32 miles south to Baggs.  It is a good morning, probably in the mid-70s.  We saw lots of antelope while driving and I continue to see several.  Sagebrush has been the dominant ground cover for days.  The rain a couple of days ago has turned it from yellowish brown to a light green.  It is only about 2 feet high and there have been no trees for several hundred miles.  There is some evidence of ranching but not much.  Oil seems to be the big “cash crop” here.  Oil wells, small tanks and various types of pumps dot the landscape.  Gravel side roads have signs at the entrance from the highway listing which wells or stations are located on that road.  Over half of the big trucks on the highway are hauling oil related equipment: casing, derrick sections, drill bits, etc.

The roadsides we have seen in both Montana and Wyoming have been very clean.  If there is litter it is accidental: pieces of tire debris and truckers’ black bungee straps are the most common.  Road kill has varied, jackrabbits were the most prevalent in Montana, antelope probably tops in Wyoming.  Coyote and, near streams, raccoon are also common.

I found Betty in Baggs, parked in front of a vacant warehouse.  We had lunch, rested a few minutes and I pedaled south.  Betty planned to wait an hour and pick me up enroute to Craig.  Three miles south of Baggs, WY, I crossed the border into Colorado.  At the same time, the wide shoulder along the highway disappeared.  No shoulder at all, none!  The accepted tactic for safely riding in this type situation is to ride 2 or 3 feet into the lane from the right side.  This allows traffic behind to easily pass, unless there is oncoming traffic then the vehicle(s) behind must wait until the oncoming traffic has passed.  It can be an inconvenience for some drivers and I wish there were a better way but this just how it is.  I try to wave in thanks to those who have had to wait to get around me.  Fortunately, traffic is very light and it is seldom that two vehicles meet near me; it probably only happened less than a dozen times.  The road now is hilly with lots of curves.  Much of the time, there is a very steep slope that starts right at the edge of the pavement.  I don’t care for this all that much.

Betty and I had earlier decided that I would start looking for a good place for her to stop after I had gone 10 miles.  There aren’t many places to pull off to the side that would accommodate an RV towing a car.  At the 11 mile point I find a nice gravel turnout.  I would like to have continued biking another few miles but was unsure there would be a place.  And, I knew Betty would want to know why I passed up such a great opportunity.

After a short wait, the rig came rolling into this little parking area.  Betty made it clear that she did not like driving on a road with no shoulders and in the hills.

In Craig, CO, we parked in a KOA with Wi-Fi and found a little Mexican restaurant for dinner.  All is well.

Cowboy Wisdom:  Don’t judge horses by their riders nor people by their relatives.

From a website relayed in part by Jill Hendley in Indianapolis (our Niece)

29Jul07: Day 22 – 32mi/Total 763mi/To Craig, CO 

We drive the CRV back to the Colorado/Wyoming border to get a couple of pictures then to the point I stopped riding yesterday.  It is Sunday morning; there is little traffic which is good because there is still no shoulder.  However, we know from having just driving over this route that the ‘no shoulder’ area will last only nine more miles.  There are lots of antelope grazing this morning, many are only a few months old.  Also, there is an occasional mule deer.

Finally, there is a shoulder again.  Easy going, wide shoulder, gentle hills; nice.  Oops, the back tire doesn’t feel right and does not sound right rolling on the pavement.  When I stop to check, I find it is flat.  The good news is that I have the shoulder as a work area.  After pulling the tube out, I find a small steel wire, about a quarter inch long, that has penetrated the tire, Tuffy liner and the tube.  It is not a ‘thorn resistant’ tube; I have used the four I brought and haven’t been able to find them in local bike stores.  Even though I have a spare with me, I elect to patch the tube.  These patches are different from those I have used before and I want to see how well they work.  Secondly, when I get back to our car and my spare bike equipment, I will replace the tire and will use a new tube, tossing the patched one.

Craig is in the YampaRiver valley and I start seeing signs of more agriculture, grazing, hay and oats are the most evident.  A very enjoyable aspect of biking is cruising into a new town, drifting through the shady streets at a slower rate of speed.  Craig has a favorable first impression: trees, grass, shade, modern school, a museum and a pleasant atmosphere.  Just east of town, Betty is doing some wash at the KOA RV Park.  We have a late lunch and take a break until the outside temp is a bit cooler.  Later, I replace both tires on the road bike with the Kevlar tires Dennis got for me a couple of weeks ago.  A new thin tube replaced the patched one and I kept the existing ‘thorn resistant’ tube in the front tire.

Locals tell me that US-40 from Craig to Steamboat Springs, 42 miles, is an easy ride without a lot of serious climbing.  However, just beyond Steamboat there is a seven mile climb of several thousand feet in elevation.  Sounds like tomorrow will be a road bike day into Steamboat and the next day will definitely call for the mountain bike with some lower climbing gears.

“Go after life as if it’s something that’s got to be roped in a hurry before it gets away.”

Dribble Glass website as relayed by Susan O’Brien in Germany

8Aug07: Day 23 – 45 mi/Total 808mi/To Steamboat Springs, CO

We are back on the trail after a quick trip to Minnesota so Betty could help care for her dad.  He fell and got pretty banged up but is now getting around a little better each day.  The day before we left, Betty & I joined some interesting biking friends for a good bike ride on a local trail followed by some good beer, lotsa chow.  It was a good time.

We returned to Colorado through Denver, parked the RV in Silverthorne and this morning Betty drove me to Craig to resume where we left off.  Today’s ride was up the YampaRiver valley and was mostly flat.  A few miles before reaching Steamboat Springs, Betty directed me to a system of bike trails that kept me off the busy highway.  Steamboat appears to be a nice town, maybe it is just because this is their “off season”, but I did not sense the ‘Yuppie’ attitude that so many ski resorts seem to have.

The weather now is considerably cooler than when we left about 10 days ago.  Nights are especially cool.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “You have to love a woman to know her – even then there’s a lot of guesswork involved.”      From ‘Horse Sense” by Texas Bix Bender

9Aug07: Day 24 – 26 mi/Total 834mi/To Bear Mountain Ranch

We have known for a couple of weeks that this stretch was going to be a “bear”; crossing Rabbit Ears Mountain Range through Rabbit Ears Passes, both East and West.

Betty drove me to Steamboat Springs and I started biking south on US-40 while she biked through Steamboat.

Three miles of flat valley then the climb began.  I rode my mountain bike so I would have lotsa low gears.  Initially, I was trying to ride too fast and soon got winded and was gasping for more oxygen.  When I slowed to 4-5 mph, I could keep going until I elected to take a break to rest the leg muscles.  The incline was not as steep as I had suspected, but it was constant.  For 9 miles the climb continued.  Some heavily loaded trucks were not going much faster than I was and drivers would give me a “thumbs up” as they eased by me.  One of the slower ones passed me then a couple of miles later he was off to the side with his cab tilted forward to let the smoking engine cool; I waved as I passed.  J   Finally, we topped out at Rabbit Ears Pass West: 9,673 feet, a gain of about 3,000 feet.  As I biked through some minor ups and downs on the top, Betty caught up with me and found a wide spot for lunch.  I devoured a Cuban sandwich, a bag of chips, a large Pepsi and a bottle of water then had a “power nap” for about 15 minutes before knocking out a few more miles.  I crossed the Continental Divide twice: once at Rabbit Ears Pass East and again at MuddyPass.  The next ten miles were mostly downhill, Betty was waiting across from the entrance to Bear Mountain Ranch.  All of this only totaled 26 miles, but still a hard day.

A hot shower, cold beer, some eats and I feel pretty good.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance”

Inspire 21 Website as relayed by Suz O’Brien in Germany (Our Daughter)

10Aug07: Day 25 – 41 mi/Total 875mi/To Green Mountain Reservoir

Another cool morning; each morning we turn on heat in the RV take the chill off.  It feels good watching the sun come up with a hot cup of coffee on a brisk morning.  We don’t even feel guilty as we hear that the South and the East Coast are having record setting high temps.  Oh yes, I should mention that the humidity here is very low, less than half the numbers in Southwest Florida right now; oh well!

Each day, the distance Betty has to drive to put me on the trail is much less.  As I start riding from the entrance to Bear Mountain Ranch, there is a quartering tailwind.  This section of road has no paved shoulder; I wear a highly visible tee shirt and an orange vest while hugging the right edge of the pavement and hope for the best.  Most traffic gives me a wide berth when they can, but there are a few that like to make my ride exciting by cutting it close and laying on their horn as they fly by me.

The wind has shifted to a headwind slowing my progress.  The terrain is mostly rolling hills as we proceed up this wide valley toward the Silverthorne/Breckenridge area.  I am back on the road bike and often must go to the lowest gear to get up hills.  A mountain ridge parallels on the east and high mountains with patches of snow are a few miles to the west.  The valley is mostly ranch land, spotted with a few beautiful mega-homes perched high on a mountain side.

Great news, Jason and Meghan Miller (Betty’s sister’s son and his wife) who live near Colorado Springs, will be meeting us tonight.  They are into mountain biking, climbing, backcountry skiing and love living in Colorado. Jason will ride with me tomorrow.

We all gather at the Old Dillon Inn for dinner and a good time.

Cowboy Wisdom:  A good friend makes every mile you travel together a little shorter.

From “Horse Sense” by Texas Bix Bender

11Aug07: Day 26 – 26mi/Total 901/From Breckenridge to Como, CO

Another beautiful day: cool, sunny, no wind.  Jason will be riding with me today.  I decided to put the road ride from Green Mountain Reservoir on hold.  Today we will ride mountain bikes over BoreasPass and the Continental Divide to the little town of Como.  This gravel road is part of the Great Divide Route that I was on in New Mexico.

We leave Tiger Run RV Park on a beautiful bike trail and ride through Breckenridge, a resort and ski town.  At the south end of town we turn onto Boreas Pass Road and it is uphill for the next ten miles.  After climbing about a thousand feet we pass the Lodge & Spa of Breckenridge, the hotel where Jason & Meghan Miller were married three summers ago. It was a picture perfect wedding in a spectacular outdoor setting on the deck of this hotel, perched on a mountain side, high above Breckenridge.

Soon after we pass the hotel, the road turns to gravel and continues up a relatively gentle climb.  This is an old narrow gauge railroad route so the incline and the turns are not as severe as some mountain roads.  Jason is somewhat of an animal, making child’s play out of this little climb.  He stops often to wait for me to catch up.  We top out at BoreasPass, 11,482 feet, just above tree line.  The Forest Service has a Ranger Station there and an old boxcar that was used here years ago, it was also used at White Pass in Alaska and by the Army during WWII, another time it was used as a gondola; interesting.  Some patches of snow are only about 200 feet above the Ranger Station.

The bone jarring ride down went quickly, again Jason tearing ahead.  Rides like this make me appreciate the front and rear suspension which is common on mountain bikes.  These shock absorbers take most of the abuse.  Down in the valley, we cruise into the nothing town of Como where we will meet Betty and Meghan.  Since we are an hour early, we start looking for cold beer.  Neither the old hotel/restaurant nor the mercantile store sell beer; they are the only stores in town.  We each enjoy a root beer in the shade while we wait.  The gals arrive early and the drive back to Breckenridge is long; about 50 miles over both RedHillPass and HoosierPass (Continental Divide).

We do have cold beer at the RV, but not enough, Jason & Meghan slip out on a resupply run.  Betty had a pork roast in the crock pot and a good time was had by all.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.”   From Dribble Glass website as relayed by Suz O’Brien

From Betty:  Meghan and I decided to hit the outlet shops while Chuck and Jason biked.  I had some “little people” to buy for, so we checked out Gymboree and Osh Kosh and then we also checked out Old Navy.  We had just enough time to do our shopping, put it away and head down to pick the guys up.  They were entirely too fast!

12Aug07: Day 27 – 34 mi/Total 935 mi/Green Mtn Reservoir to Tiger Run

This morning Jason and I decide to ride the bike trails from north Silverthorne, south to Tiger Run, a total of 15 miles.   Betty will start just south of Silverthorne and ride to Tiger Run.  Meghan will shuttle us and we will all meet back at Tiger Run RV Park.  There is a wonderful network of bike trails in this valley which goes from Silverthorne through Dillon, Frisco and Breckenridge.  It is quite scenic and very popular.  Jas and I are on our mountain bikes but the trail is paved and many riders are on road bikes.  The miles are easy and fly by; we catch up to Betty a couple of miles from Tiger Run.

Back at the RV we cool down and Jason & Meghan say good-bye and load their husky/wolf/shepherd/et al dog, Baylor, into their VW camper and depart for Colorado Springs.  It has been a good visit, they are a fun, active couple.  We hope they can join us again while we are still within a few hours drive of their home in Woodlawn Park, CO.

Late in the afternoon, Betty drives me to Green Mountain Reservoir.  This is the point where I stopped two days ago.  I ride the road bike south toward Silverthorne; there is no wind and the hills are mild and few.  Just 19 miles later, I meet Betty in north Silverthorne, the same spot Jas and I started from this morning.  Now, we have closed all the gaps and have a continuous ride from the Canadian Border to Como, Colorado.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “The only good reason to ride a bull is to meet a nurse”.

From Don’t Dig for Water Under the Outhouse by Texas Bix Bender

13Aug07: Day 28 – 30mi/Total 965mi/To Hartsel, CO

It is time to move out of Tiger Run RV Park after a very pleasant five day stay.  We move the rig across HoosierPass and park in a wide spot by the Hartsel town limit sign.  After lunch, Betty drives me to Como where Jason and I finished two days ago.  She will drive back to the RV while I bike a shorter route on Elkhorn Road, a gravel ranch road.

It leads through a wide valley 8 – 9 thousand feet high.  This is ranch country; there are few fences, mostly open range with cattle guards every few miles.  The road is gravel, rock and packed earth; some places it is smooth and other places rough with pot holes.  The shocks on the mountain bike help smooth it somewhat.  Only a few pick-ups pass in the 25 miles on Elkhorn Road.  Hills are low but steep.  With majestic mountains in the distance on both sides and herds of cattle dotting the valley floor, this is a beautiful ride.

One minute, I am enjoying this remote high country, then I crest a hill and see a gigantic, black storm cloud in the distance.  Lightning is flashing and the cloud is moving between me and my destination.  Hartsel is still about eight miles away and a race is on.  Soon, Elkhorn Road ends and I turn west on US-24, five miles to go. The smooth pavement makes for a faster pace.  Lightning flashes about two mile away; flash to bang is eight seconds.  Now, I can see Hartsel about two miles away and the RV is a quarter mile on the other side of town.  Hmm, maybe if I could just make it to the town saloon, I could let the storm pass.  But, maybe this is not such a good idea.  If I were having a good time whooping it up with the locals while Betty decides to go out in the storm looking for me, I might lose my entire support crew.  As I arrive at the RV, rain is starting to fall.  It takes only a couple of minutes to load and lock my bike and put away my gear.  When I get in the RV, a flash lights up the field just outside and loud crack shakes us. The thunder and lightning only lasted an hour or so, but the rain has continued for three hours now and is still going.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “Every path has some puddles”

From Inspire 21 website as relayed by Suz O’Brien

14Aug07: Day 29 – 49 mi/Total 1014/To Poncha Springs, Co

It finally stopped raining about 3am.  The cloud cover, during and after the rain blocked natural light and in these rural mountains there is almost no artificial light; it is flat dark unless we turn on a light in the RV.

This morning we had one of Dorothy’s well known breakfast burritos in the little town of Hartsel.  Afterward, we spent nearly two hours studying maps to determine our schedule for the next couple of months.  If all goes well, we have enough time to link with the point in New Mexico that I reached last month.  Then, on 8 September, we will attend the wedding of the son of some friends in the Los Angeles area followed by some time in National Parks in California. Finally, on the way back to south Florida, we will complete the 200 mile gap that remains in west Texas and SE New Mexico.

Betty drove the rig 48 miles south to Poncha Springs as I did my pedal thing.  Thirteen miles into the ride, I turned south on US-285 and immediately started climbing to Trout Creek Pass.  A short historical note: in 1806, Zebulon Pike’s exploratory party had failed in an attempt to climb what is now Pike’s Peak, it was Christmas Eve and they were nearly out of rations, when their hunters killed eight buffalo near Trout Pass.  At 9,346 feet, the Pass is only about 700 feet above Hartsel so the climb was relatively painless.  The best part was a downhill run of nearly 12 miles. As I rounded a turn I could see a wall of massive mountains; it’s the CollegiatePeaks: Yale, Harvard, Princeton, etc, all fourteeners (14,000 feet or higher).  Very impressive.  Johnson Junction is at the end of the run; there are many outfitters offering raft rides on the Arkansas River which crosses here.  Its headwaters are just a few miles north.  We crossed the headwaters of the Colorado River south of Steamboat Springs; several other great rivers, including the Rio Grande and the Platte, have their source in the Colorado Rockies.

Again this afternoon, storm clouds hover along the mountains.  There is a rush of cooler air, a few cold drops and soon it is pouring.  There is no convenient overpass or building for shelter, so I press on.  The wind has changed directions and I now have a tailwind.  Drenched, glasses covered with water and I am flying along at about 25 mph.  I know that I need to pedal hard to keep warm but I’m going fast enough on wet pavement; where are the tough climbs when you need them?  After about 20 minutes, the rain starts easing and I can see lighter sky ahead.  My cotton tee-shirt dries reasonably quickly in the breeze.  By the time I arrive in Poncha Springs, only my shoes and socks are still wet.

Betty has gotten permission to park behind a small Sears store.  After a hot shower and a cold beer we have some tasty halibut given to us by Jerry & Linda Johnson in Lime Springs, Iowa; they caught it while in Alaska earlier this summer.  Add some sweet potatoes and a salad and it was a great meal.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “The best way out is usually to go on through.”

From Horse Sense by Texas Bix Bender

15Aug07: Day30 – 57mi/Total 1071mi/To Hooper, CO

Only a mile out of Poncha Springs and the seven mile climb up to PonchaPass begins.  A mile later, a double toot from the air-horn as Betty drives by me.   I’m in the lowest gear of my road bike.  Two thousand five hundred feet of elevation gain is spread over seven miles and makes for a moderate incline.  It is so moderate that I never go anaerobic, so don’t have to stop “to check the scenery”.  In less than an hour I’m on top of the pass (9,010 ft) and there is our rig in a summit pull-off area.  Betty has stopped to check on my progress.  The watershed to the north of this pass flows into the Arkansas River to the Mississippi and the Gulf of Mexico, to the south it flows into the Rio GrandeRiver and eventually to the Gulf of Mexico.

The downhill run was short and a decent of only about 500 feet into the SanLuisValley.  This wide valley is actually a high desert.  Along the east are the Sangre De Cristo Mountains with the highest point being Humboldt Peak at 14,064 ft.  On the west are the San Juan Mountains with numerous high peaks, many over 14,000 ft.  The valley floor is flat and the road is boringly straight.

Betty parked in a school parking lot in the small town of Moffat.  We have lunch, take a rest break and I depart for the last 17 miles of the day.  The wind has shifted and I now have a quartering tailwind.  What a good way to finish the day, about an hour later we are in Hooper, at a KOA campground.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “A fast horse cannot go fast far”.

From Horse Sense by Texas Bix Bender

16Aug07: Day 31 – 48mi/Total 1118/To Antonito, CO

This morning we are off on a side trip to the Great Sand Dunes National Park & Preserve.  It is about 20 miles east of our route.  We will drive there this morning and Betty will drop me off in Hooper so I can ride this afternoon.

The Dunes are an awesome place; some dunes are 750 feet high, the sand covers 30 square miles and this part of the dunes system covers 350 square miles.  These are the highest sand dunes in the USA and have many unique features that are only found here.  Basically, the sand is created from erosion of the San Juan Mountains 40 miles west.  Streams carry that sand down those mountains; the prevailing SW winds blow the sand across the SanLuisValley and deposit it on this area of the Sangre De Cristo Mountains.  Some of that sand is deposited on the dunes site by air currents, other sand is distributed on the mountain side above the dunes and is carried down to the dunes by two streams.  Each year, the spring winds blow sand from the dunes back up the mountain and snow melt carries it back to the dunes.  Kids of all ages love to play in the sandy streams and plow through the loose sand trying to climb the dunes.  Betty & Mae, my sister, took our grandkids to the Dunes in 1998 after visiting me on the Colorado Trail.  This is my first Dunes visit.

Now back to Hooper to continue biking.  It is 1pm so we decide to have lunch in Hooper’s only eating establishment, Billy’s Bar & Grill.  Home painted sings on the outside walls tell of their menu items.  Inside, the dim light reveals a floor covered with peanut shells that have accumulated for the past several weeks.  Hand painted signs (boards) hang on all walls with clever sayings and opinions.  The ceiling is made of burlap potato bags donated by local commercial growers.  A well stocked bar is on the left and a pool table is in the center of the room; a poker table is near the back.  Karen, Billy’s partner, tells us about the town’s history and the colorful characters in its past.  Life sized stuffed dolls dressed as some of these town characters are seated about the large room.  If you ever find yourself in Hooper, Colorado; don’t miss this place. (Poker games start at 7pm every Friday, Saturday and Tuesday nights.)  Oh yes, I nearly forgot about the ceiling installation: three local boys agreed to install the burlap bags for free beer, however, since they were underage, they had to slip out the back door if the “law” stopped in – took them three weeks to finish the job!

It is 2pm before we can tear ourselves away from Billy’s.  I start biking and Betty goes to pick up the RV and will meet me in Antonito, 48 miles down the road.  All this seemed very doable as we sat in Billy’s, but now the wind has picked up and it is right in my face.  Straight and flat should make for some fast miles, not today, the wind increases to about 20mph so I am lucky to make 10mph on the bike.  Plus, the wind is mentally debilitating and physically exhausting.  The shoulder is less that 18 inches wide and wind gusts make for a wobbly, tedious track.  These are long hard miles that drone by slowly.  Betty calls to say she is passing through La Hara, 14 miles short of our planned destination, and wants to know if we should meet there.  Wind blown, with liquid from eyes, nose and mouth streaking across my cheeks, I shout back into the phone that we should continue as planned.  I could barely hear her due to the wind, but I think she said, “OK”.   About a quarter mile later, I wondered ‘what I was thinking’.  In Alamosa I crossed the Rio GrandeRiver.  Just outside town, the shoulder widened to nearly eight feet.  About two hours later as I slowly made my way through La Hara, I again thought ‘Hey, I’d be done now’.  Fortunately, about 6:00 the wind started easing and the last few miles went by more quickly.  Betty had found a parking lot near the town VisitorCenter and train depot to park the rig for the night.  I rolled in at 7:30pm. An hour later, I had showered, beered, eaten and was ready for bed.  Some of Betty’s fresh baked walnut & chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk made life seem pretty good again.

“Since it seems impossible for the government to identify illegal aliens, but they can track a specific cow from Canada to the very stall it used in Washington State, maybe they should issue a cow to every illegal alien.”

From a sign on the wall of Billy’s Bar & Grill in Hooper, Colorado

From Betty:  This is from Billy’s too – a Maxine poster “Good mothers let their kids lick the beaters, great mothers turn it off first”.

17Aug07: Day 32 – 30mi/Total 1148mi/To Tres Piedras, NM

Early this morning, as we were eating breakfast, an old time steam engine puffs over to the water tank about 50 feet from our RV.  After filling, it jockeyed around on the tracks to attach several passenger cars in readiness for today’s trip on the historic Cumbres and Toltec Scenic Railroad. The plan today is for me to bike 30 miles to Tres Piedras, NM, meet Betty, and we will drive to Taos.

The wind today is still out of the South, an unrelenting headwind.  Soon there is a sign “Welcome to New Mexico, Land of Enchantment”.  Eventually, we climb a bit and exit the SanLuisValley.  The road now has a few curves and some rolling hills with a few trees.  All this helps to break up the wind that was blowing across a 40 mile fetch.  Betty parks at a small roadside rest stop; we will dry camp here tonight.  I roll in, clean-up, grab a sandwich and we are on our way to Taos, a 20 mile drive.  Neither of us has been there before and we just want to look around.

About 10 miles from Taos, we see a small community of homes, mostly dug into the earth.  They all have lots of solar panels and some have wind generators.  We stop at their VisitorsCenter for a tour.  Very interesting, these homes are completely off the electric grid, catch all their water from natural precipitation, and are made with only recycled materials.  Next we cross the Rio GrandeRiver on a bridge that must be 300 feet above the water.  This is a deep, narrow canyon that is awesome.  Taos has a distinctively Mexican appearance.  We had yet another Mexican meal, this one in the historic section of town. We would like to check out Taos’ SkiValley but it is late in the day, so we  return to our home on wheels and save that part of the Taos area for another time.

“The price of beer depends on your attitude”.

From a sign hanging behind the bar at Billy’s Bar & Grill in Hooper, CO

18Aug07: Day 33 – 52mi/Total 1200mi/To Hernandez, NM

It was another quiet, dark night.  Even though we were at a rest stop on a US highway, there was almost no traffic all night.  About a half-mile away is Tres Piedras, a non-town, it has a gasless gas station and four houses.  As I biked through it early this morning, three large dogs came charging at me barking, growling and showing their teeth.  Yelling at the one trying to catch my right heel caused him to back off for an instant giving me just enough time to get into high gear.  It was a great chase, I was pedaling with as much vigor as I could muster and the dogs must have felt satisfied that they had done their duty and run the intruder out of town.

Four miles later, my rear tire felt wobbly; it was flat.  After pulling the tire apart, I found a tiny cut in the tube and the tire and the edge of the Tuffy liner.  The cut was probably caused by one of the gazillion broken glass fragments that I unintentionally ride over; they accumulate along the edge/shoulder of the pavement.  A new tube from my little kit bag, a feeble attempt to inflate it with a micro-pump and I am back on the road with less than 50 psi; I like 125 psi.  Since there is no wind I seem to glide right along in spite of the low pressure.

We are clearly out of the ‘high desert’; sagebrush, pinon pine and juniper dominate the landscape.  The road has some curves as it winds up, down and around hills, cliffs and arroyos.  There seem to be more downs than ups (too bad, what goes down usually goes back up).   Betty waits for me at an abandoned business in Hernandez, about 25 miles north of Santa Fe.  We refuel and go to the Cottonwood RV Park where Betty has called for reservations.  A unique, truck looking, rig is checking in just in front of us. After we both get properly parked, we invite the truck’s owner over for a beer.  Bob Bowker, a retired Fed-Ex pilot, designed his rig to accommodate his life style.  He has living quarters in the front and a heavy duty ramp in the back is for two motorcycles; one is a dirt bike, I don’t remember about the other.  He said he sometimes hauls his Jeep in there when not carrying both motorcycles.  It has two large dishes (one is about 6 ft across) on top and a 550 HP Cat under the hood.  He lives near Aspen, CO, but grew up in St Pete and has traveled all over doing bunches of different things.  An interesting guy.

Tonight Betty whipped up the last of Jerry & Linda Johnson’s Alaskan halibut, some sweet corn, cucs and tomatoes; it was a feast.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “Friends last longer the less they are used.”

From  Don’t Dig for Water Under the Outhouse  by Texas Bix Bender

19Aug07: Day 34 – 43mi/Total 1243mi/To I-25, Exit 271

This RV Park has Wi-Fi so it is a good opportunity to catch up on email and get the journal posted on the website.  Also, we have good cellular reception so we can contact family, friends and some needy enterprises that we have been unable to follow-up with for several days.

As Betty drives me back to the start point, we stop by a do-it-yourself car wash to give the Honda CRV a much overdue bath.  A ‘toad’ (towed vehicle) has a tough life; eating dust, getting road splash and grit for hundreds of miles and breathing diesel fumes and oily residue without end.

After riding only six miles, I pass our RV park and decide I should stop for lunch.  Ahh, leftover stir fry, a cheese, mayo and PB sandwich with a couple of glasses of milk.  That was really good, but I ate so much, I really should let it settle a bit before I resume biking.  During a short nap, I am awakened by Betty, on the phone, arguing with Bank of America.  Seems they want to replace the credit card we have had for over 20 years with  one that has a different number, due to “irregularities”.  Betty likes the old card, we have monthly bills that are paid by that number, that card number is listed with several financial accounts, plus, Betty has the number memorized which makes phone, internet and other purchases easier.  They won’t tell her what the “irregularities” are, just that they are interested in the security of our account (I think someone hacked into their system and compromised lots of account numbers).  The new card can only be mailed to our permanent home in Florida and by the time it is forwarded to us, we should be on the way home.  How do they expect us to feed this hungry diesel?  Actually, we have learned from past experiences to have multiple cards when we travel for an extensive time.  This is all just one of the joys of life ‘on the road’.

OK, back to biking and let Betty sort out all the hard stuff.  Up and down, increasing traffic, closing on Santa Fe, better shoulders, hot afternoon, lots of adobe architecture, finally in the city, good bike lanes, traffic flows well.  At a red light, I am beside a Toyota driven by nice looking young lady with a southwestern allure.  As I look her way, she informs me that the loud music is from another car and that she has rolled up the window on that side to shield herself.  I smile, thinking ‘What music?’, she says “Ride safe!” as she pulls away.  Most drivers have been very courteous and give me some ‘safe space’, only a very, but memorable, few have tried to run me off the road.  On the south side of Santa Fe, I enter I-25 South; bicycles are allowed on the interstate here as long as they stay in the safety lane.  Wow, these guys are driving fast.  The limit is 75 mph, most seem to be doing 80 or 85; it’s not fair, I can’t go any faster on an interstate highway than I can on a state or county road.  Actually, I feel reasonably safe.  The traffic lanes are separated from the safety lane by a scalloped line; I stay well to the right of the safety lane, wear an orange vest and hope any dozing drivers are alerted by their tires shaking on the scallops. As in the past, if I hear the ‘singing’ of tires hitting the scallops behind me, I immediately head off the road to the right, sometimes into the ditch.  All goes well; I call Betty and arrange to meet her at Exit 271, which is about six miles south of Santa Fe.

Cowboy Wisdom: “Try to get your wife a job in town”

From Don’t Dig for Water Under the Outhouse by Texas Bix Bender    (Note: Betty thought this one needed some explanation; the insinuation here is that ranching sometimes doesn’t pay enough to support a family and outside income is needed if a cowboy is to continue working his tail off at this thankless job he loves.)

20Aug07: Day 35 – 56mi/Total 1299mi/To I-25, Rio Bravo Blvd, S. Albuquerque

We packed up the rig, said good-bye to our new friend, Bob Bowker and headed for I-25.  Oh yes, Bob said the large dish on top of his truck/RV is for sat-internet & phone.  At Exit 271, yesterday’s end point, we pulled off at a wide spot and I readied my bike.  Betty continued driving to Exit 242 and I biked along on the right edge of the safety lane.  When I reach Exit 242, I must get off the Interstate and take local roads and streets through Albuquerque.  This is just as well; exits and entrances are the trickiest part of biking on limited access highways and Albuquerque has 19 exits.

There are lots of long hills, more up than down.  As the sun gets higher, the temperature soars; it must be nearly 100 degrees.  When I stop for lunch at a gas station/convenience store, a local, overfed, guy is sitting in the shade fanning the air in front of his face.  I get a sandwich & two cold Pepsis and sit nearby; he stares blankly forward and mumbles something in Spanish.  When I shake my head, he says, “Caliente! Caliente!”.  I nod “Si” and don’t know if muy or mucho are appropriate, so use both.  We eat in silence; he keeps fanning.

Back on I-25, cooking in the sun, I stop under every overpass for the blessed shade.  Geez, just a couple of days ago I told my cousin Linda how reasonable the temps were here compared with the heat wave they were suffering through in Indiana.  Today, I have two bottles on the bike, one water and one Gatorade; both are so hot they taste terrible.  In this heat, the long, moderately graded hills are a real grind.  Finally, I reach Exit 242 and the RV: cool water, shade, a fan.  I recuperate for an hour. We leave the Honda CRV in a Super 8 parking lot and drive the rig ahead, through Albuquerque, to Rio Bravo Blvd.

It is now 5:30 and not nearly as hot, I have rehydrated and start biking back through Albuquerque to get the car about 25 miles away.  Betty has studied the maps and even driven some of the route; she gives me detailed directions.  It is a pleasant ride, through modest residential neighborhoods and light industrial areas.  Long shadows often shade the streets and roads.  Traffic is light, there are some bike lanes, two young boys dart out to join me.  They ask if I want to race.  I say no, but challenge them to stay with me for the next 30 minutes.  “No sweat” they say, ten minutes later they drop behind saying that they are not allowed to go any farther.  Miles later, I seem to have missed a turn, the road has abruptly turned to sand; I’m entering a sanitary land fill.  OK, turn around, get reoriented by a guy working on his car in front of his house and go back a mile and a half.  That cost me an extra three miles.  Now back on track, I join Historic US Route 66.  At this point, “Route 66” has been restored and declared a National Scenic By-Way.  Now, if I just had a Corvette, I might see all those cute young gals that used to wave to Martin Milner.  It is a good ride through some farm country, along a RR track and soon to US-550 where I find the Super 8 and the CRV.

On the drive back to the RV, I stop for a case of bottled water and some Corona.  Betty heated the shower water, tuned in the Sat TV and has dinner waiting.  Life is good!

Cowboy Wisdom:  “If you climb in the saddle, be ready for the ride.”

From Don’t Dig for Water Under the Outhouse by Texas Bix Bender

21Aug07: Day 36 – 47mi/Total 1346mi/To I-25, Exit 175

Last night, we were dry camped in a large vacant lot, south of Albuquerque; a local vendor said he thought no one would mind.   We continue to be in the Rio GrandeValley.  We are moving along the general trace of the old Santa Fe Trail.  The Trail was established by the Spanish centuries before Americans started moving into the West.  It extended from what is now SE Colorado, through Santa Fe, through the regional headquarters in Chihuahua, to Mexico City.  Young America was generally unaware of its existence until Lt Zebulon Pike was taken into custody, in 1807, near the Great Sand Dunes, by a Spanish patrol and escorted through Santa Fe to Chihuahua to explain to the local Governor what he and his party were doing in Spanish territory.  He was later released and the Spanish actually helped his starving party; Pike and his Spanish major escort became good friends. When Zebulon Pike returned to St Louis and announced the existence of the Santa Fe Trail, American entrepreneurs started moving to Santa Fe to take advantage of this crossroads.

That was then and this is now.  Now is hot.  I bike south on County Road 47 and will meet Betty at I-25, Exit 175.  CR-47 and its extension, CR-304, eventually drift east of the Rio Grande.  I need to make certain that I cross one of the few bridges back before I get too far south to meet Betty.  Somehow, I was too concerned and got back on I-25 before I had intended to, but not a problem.  I’ll just ride along the Interstate longer than planned.  It is hot, but I feel better with the heat than yesterday.  Every bit of shade is a gift that I stop to enjoy.  The “countdown” seems to start early today: one-quarter of the way, one-half, only 20 miles to go, 15, single digit midgets, hey there’s the Kiva RV Park.  Done for the day!

Cowboy Wisdom:  “Don’t waste good money on cheap boots.”

From Don’t Dig for Water Under the Outhouse by Texas Bix Bender

22Aug07: Day 37 – 26mi/Total 1372mi/To Socorro, NM

It is a hot windy day.  As I ready my bike, I find that the rear tire is flat. This is a better place to fix a flat than out on the road.  I get a chair and set up my ‘mobile bike shop’ under a shade tree.  Further inspection of the tire, reveals a tiny, needle like wire (from a steel belted tire) has penetrated the sidewall of the tire, missed the Tuffy liner, and gone into the tube.  My theory on patching tubes is: don’t, unless there is no spare tube for a replacement.  We started this trip with at least six spare tubes for each of the three types of tires (road, mountain & hybrid).  With this replacement, there are two road bike tubes remaining; one in the small wedge pouch under the bike seat and one with my bike equipment in the back of our car.  This tube replacement gives me some problems.  It is difficult to get the base of the valve stem seated properly so that the tire bead will hold when inflated.  Twice, the bead slips and the tube bulges out.  Third time is charm?  It seems to hold.  Remount the tire on the bike, load water bottles, cell phone, oil chain, put on my bike shoes, orange vest, sun screen, helmet, gloves, say good-bye to Betty and…….Oh no!  The tire is flat again.  I know immediately what must have happened, when the tire pinched it probably ruptured the tube near the valve stem.  OK, turn the bike upside down, remove the wheel, pull the tube out of the tire, find leak, replace tube, etc, etc.  Yes, there are two little pin holes near the valve stem.  Now, I have only one spare tube remaining; I’d better get this one on right the first time.

During all this tire tinkering time, a neighbor, Bill, rides his fat tire bike over to chat for a while.  When he pointed out his little garden, I asked how long he had been here.  He said he came from Maine to New Mexico and wanted to see the balloon races in Albuquerque, but all the RV parks were full until they found this one, 80 miles away.  That was three years ago.  While talking, he gave me lots of advice about bike tires, the local area and more.  Later, he came back with four summer squash.  When I thanked him he said he had picked 425 squash from his garden this year and had experimented with 18 different recipes for fixing them.  As he started recalling them, I asked if he could just give me the best one, because I could remember only one at a time.

By now it is hotter than a firecracker, windy, nearly noon and I have lost interest in biking.  Betty fixes lunch and we decide to make it a short day.  I will cool my heels in air conditioned comfort until later in the day then ride 25 miles to Socorro and call it a day.

It is 3pm, the tire is still fully inflated and I’m on my way.  Betty drives ahead to Socorro and will find a place to dry camp for the night.  It is still hot but the strong headwind helps temper the heat.  Miles go by slowly.  At one point, an historical marker tells how the cliffs on both sides of this part of the Rio Grande Valley channeled riders, in days of old, making it a good place for Indians to ambush them.  The Spanish called this the ‘Valley of Death’.  I slipped through without incident.

Betty has parked in the Wal-Mart parking lot.  This is the same Wal-Mart that I had to be driven to a couple of months ago to get prescription medicine, Diamox, for altitude sickness.  We are closing on the point that I had reached when biking north at that time.

It felt good to have a short riding day, even the strong headwind seemed tolerable.  A couple of cold Coronas, cheese and crackers and shower, followed by some roast beef with great, fresh summer squash (steamed in the micro-wave, as instructed) and all is well.

Cowboy Wisdom: “When somebody does you a favor, remember it.  When you do a favor, forget it.”          From Don’t Dig for Water Under the Outhouse by Texas Bix Bender.

23Aug07: Day 38 – 28mi/Total 1400mi/To Magdalena, NM

It was a quiet night at the Wal-Mart parking lot in Socorro, NM.  We like to have breakfast with our camp host, but apparently this Wal-MartSuperCenter doesn’t offer that opportunity.  No bacon, egg, cheese biscuit for us this morning.  Instead, I have my standard fare of cereal with sliced banana, strawberries, blueberries and a mix of several nuts all covered with milk and washed down with OJ.  Betty has a scaled down version of this.  It’s good but variety is nice once in awhile.  Betty has already restocked our supplies at WM and we are ready for another few days on the road.

I ride south through town and turn west to climb out of the Rio GrandeValley.  There was something special, almost eerie, about riding along the route of what was the Santa Fe Trail.  For over 400 years, it was used for transportation and commerce linking North & Central America with Spain and hence Europe & Asia; pretty astounding.  The first Spaniards came to this area in 1598, however, NA Indians and Mesoamericans were using this 1500 mile, north-south network of trails over two hundred years before the Spanish arrived and dubbed it the Santa Fe Trail.

The climb out of the Valley is not really steep but constant.  The elevation gain is probably less than a thousand feet to Magdalena.  Betty is waiting along side the road in downtown Magdalena; we decide to stay the night in the Western RV Park which is just across the street.  Just as we are about to complete this phase of our trip, we are finally doing it “right”; start late, finish early and keep it to less than 30 miles per day.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “When you’re heading down a long road with a heavy load, don’t look back, and don’t look too far ahead, just keep taking it a step at a time and you’ll get there.”       From Don’t Dig for water Under the Outhouse by Texas Bix Bender.

24Aug07: Day 39 – 19 mi/Total 1419mi/To VLA, near Datil, NM

Today we connect with our previous, northbound effort.

We depart the Western RV Park in Magdalena for the last leg of this phase of our trip.  It is warm and clear with only light winds.  We continue to climb and soon reach the Plains of San Agustin, a huge rolling, mostly flat landscape.   I crest a knoll enabling me to see the Plains in the distance, it is so abrupt and so massive that it’s quite impressive.  Soon afterward, one of the large, radio telescope dishes comes into view.  It is part of the Very Large Array (VLA) established by the National Astronomical Observatory.  There are 27 of these gigantic dishes in a large Y configuration spread over an area of 15 or 20 miles.  Each dish is over 80 feet in diameter and the input from all of them is assembled by computers.  The result has the resolution of a dish four miles in diameter and a sensitivity of a dish several hundred feet wide.

It is easy to identify our stopping point.  I was there a little over two months ago.  One of the large dish antennas is near a roadside kiosk with info about the VLA.  This is where I will meet Betty and the RV.  Even though the dish appears close, I am not yet close enough to distinguish the RV.  It is still about six miles away.

OK, so now we have completed Phase II, from Antelope Wells, New Mexico on the Mexican Border to the Canadian Border near Malta, Montana.  There are no crowds, no bands, no reporters, just Betty with a small ‘point & shoot’ camera.

We have lunch at the café in Datil, a few miles away.  I ask our waitress, Susan, about Carol, who runs the café and helped me when I was here a couple of months ago.  Carol is at the Carton County Fair today.  Susan will relay our thanks to Carol, Susan (the EMT) and John DeLong (who hauled me, my bike & trailer to Albuquerque).  At that time, I had almost no sleep for four days due to altitude sickness.  All these kind folks took the time and effort to help a stranger.

From here, we will drive the rig to LA so we can attend the wedding of the son of some friends.  Our route will be via: Gallup, NM, Flagstaff, AZ, Las Vegas, NV.  After the wedding, we will visit some of the National Parks in southern California. The only biking will be for fun, maybe to investigate some of the sites along the way and to stay in ‘bike shape’.  On our way back to Florida, I will bike from Antelope Wells, NM to Fort Stockton, Texas.  This will complete the entire route from Key West to the Canadian Border.  There will be no more daily Journal entries until we get to Antelope Wells, probably sometime in late September.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “Set the pace by the distance.”

From: Don’t Dig for Water Under the Outhouse by Texas Bix Bender