Spell of the Wild

Phase I-B  Hachita, NM to Fort Stockton, Texas

18Sep07: Day 1 – 44 mi/Total 44mi/From Hachita, NM to Columbus, NM

“Back in the saddle again!”  It has been three weeks since we last biked on our journey from Key West to Alaska.  The intention was to do a lot of ‘recreational’ biking in order to stay in shape for this 300 mile bit through New Mexico and Texas.  I think we were only on the bikes three times for a few leisure miles, so much for “good intentions”.

During this ‘break time’ we did have a good time traveling through the great Southwest.  Some of the highlights were:  Las Vegas, NV (Betty & I each lost $3 in the slots, Beth Kelso asked us to put $5 on black, it won, then $10 on black won, however $20 on black lost, making her the “Big Loser” and she wasn’t even there, I think she owes us $20??); Sequoia NP, King’s Canyon NP, Yosemite NP, San Francisco, the Big Sur, Los Angeles, Palm Springs, CA, Joshua Tree NP and Tucson, AZ.  We were in LA to attend the wedding of the son of some Vietnamese friends, Bac & Thuy N, that we have known for 35 years.  It was in an oriental section of LA, for three days we were immersed in Vietnamese culture, food and language.  We were treated like royalty.  While in Tucson, we visited Betty’s high school friend, Linda T.  This amazing woman is an award winning architect and interior designer; she has retired and is now studying for a second career in forensics, specializing in document authentication.

Now we are back in southern New Mexico, at the Hitchin’ Post RV Park in Deming, NM.  Betty drove me to Hachita, which we rode through a couple of months ago, it is about 20 miles north of Antelope Wells and the Mexican Border.  While she drove back to Deming, I rode east on State Road 9 paralleling the border.  Soon the border was only a few hundred feet from the road.  There were very few vehicles on the road and most of them were Border Patrol SUV’s.  The drivers waved or gave me a ‘thumbs up” as they passed. Along the way were four National Guard Surveillance Points, with lots of high tech monitoring equipment and manned by about a half-dozen soldiers at each Point.  A local town official said that, previously, the Border Patrol was “processing” nearly 300 individuals per day, but after the National Guard was in full operation, that number dropped to only about 20 per day.

The temperature is cooler than we have experienced for a few days, in the low nineties.  This may be due to the higher elevation, over 4,000 feet, and cool air currently being pushed down from the Canadian Northwest.  The border in this area is desolate and mostly flat with isolated mountains jutting up at various points on the horizon.  This part of the ChihuahuanDesert has a tinge of green indicating a bit more moisture than we were seeing in the Mohave and ColoradoDeserts of California and Arizona.  I arrived in Columbus earlier than planned so I visited their little museum while waiting for Betty.  This small town has put a great deal of work and research into this restored RR Depot.  Their depiction of Pancho Villa’s raid on Columbus, on 9 March 1906, made me feel as if I had been there at that time.  The town and small Army barracks were attacked by Pancho’s band of 500 renegade Mexican soldiers.  Even though he had an overwhelming force, he ordered a retreat when two US Army officers managed to get a couple of crude machine guns cross firing through the town as the raiders were pillaging.  Over ninety raiders were killed, also nine US soldiers and nine US civilians.  Because of this attack on American soil, President Woodrow Wilson dispatched General John J. “Blackjack” Pershing to lead an Expeditionary Force of ten thousand soldiers into Mexico after Pancho Villa and his band of marauders.  In retrospect, the experience the US gained here may have made us better prepared for WWI and subsequently for WWII.  It was the first time airplanes were used in combat, also a first for radio communications in combat, rugged trucks fitted with machine guns sped the evolution to tanks, future generals, Patton, Eisenhower and many others, first experienced combat here.  Maybe Pancho helped save the free world??

Soon Betty found me in the museum.  We met 13 Border Patrol vehicles and passed through a mobile “Check Point” on the drive back to Deming.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “Women are meant to be loved, not understood”

From a sign on the wall of Hennessey’s Irish Pub in Las Vegas, NV

19Sep07: Day 2 – 22mi/Total 66mi/To MM-110 on NM-9

A slow start this morning, we pick up some supplies and move the RV to Columbus, which is about 30 miles south.  Betty waits there while I ride east.  It is warm and I have a quartering headwind, the miles go slowly.  The border runs parallel to the road and is about a mile south.  After a couple of hours, Betty leaves Columbus and, soon, drives the RV alongside me.  It is the middle of no where, actually it is at Mile Marker 110.  We load the bike and drive on to El Paso.  The city spreads over a wide valley along the Rio Grande.  El Paseo del Norte, the pass of the North, was used for centuries, first by Indians, then by Spaniards and, finally by trappers, traders and settlers. The Santa Fe Trail went through this pass on the way from Mexico City to Santa Fe and points north.

Entering El Paso in afternoon traffic, we find a wide spot along the road to park for the night.  Five minutes later, I’m in the shower and Betty yells that a truck has had an accident on the road just across from our RV.  She says liquid is pouring out of the truck and running all over the road, traffic is by-passing the accident and driving off the road only a couple of feet from the RV.  Betty closes the slide-outs while I dress, a minute later we crank-up and pull out as emergency vehicles arrive and push the truck to the side of the road.  This is the second time on this trip that a truck has flooded a road near us with a large quantity of liquid, probably fuel both times.  A few minutes later, we find a better place in a Home Depot parking lot.

A glass of wine and a cold beer while listening to Marty Robbins then we look for a Mexican restaurant.  We found Avilas; the food and service were great.  They even told us how to find Rosa’s Cantina; maybe tomorrow night we’ll see Feleena dance and flirt with the cowboys.

“You don’t have to be from Ireland to be Irish, where’s my Guinness?”

From a sign on the wall of Tiernan’s Irish Pub in San Francisco.

20Sep07: Day 3 – 50mi/Total 116mi/To El Paso, TX

It was a quiet night in the Home Depot parking lot. This morning, Betty drove me 50 miles back to the point we left yesterday.  All seemed peaceful along the border, a few cattle, a couple of black eared jack rabbits, a coyote, and some prairie dogs.  Of course, there were also the usual dozen or so Border Patrol vehicles.  A number of high clouds made for lower temps and a pleasant day, the miles seemed to fly by with the greatest of ease.  I had neglected to bring lunch and a chocolate candy bar was all I had in my little bike bag.  This bar has been with me for several weeks and has melted to near liquid many times in the 100 plus degree heat of past rides.  However, about noon I was thinking it might taste pretty good and planned to stop at the 30 mile point, which would be MM-140.  About a half-mile away I could see that a vehicle was parked near my lunch marker.  As a matter of routine, I take breaks at each ten mile marker (10, 20, 30, etc), later in the day, this decreases to every five miles.  The mind has little to do but look forward to these important milestones and now I needed a new plan.  But wait, that vehicle looks familiar; it is Betty waiting at just the right point, she knows my habits too well.

It was a divine Subway sandwich and cold Pepsi; ahh simple unexpected pleasures.  The afternoon ride went by easily, a Border Patrol major stopped to talk with me.  He is a biker and was interested in my ride.  He said they had been following my progress since Hachita.  He gave me a bottle of cold water and rushed off when he received a radio call.  Just minutes later another Border Patrol vehicle came flying by with lights flashing and the siren wailing; maybe it is not as peaceful on the border as it had appeared.

About ten miles out, the road starts a slow decent into the Rio Grande valley so it is an easy ride on into the “west Texas town of El Paso” and our Home Depot home for the night.

Later, we find Rosa’s Cantina and have a beer & a wine (they only serve food at lunch).  This place looks to be a real “dive” from the outside, but inside it is immaculate and fresh; the few folks there were quite friendly.  Texas football dominated the motif.  A huge (maybe 4ft x 20 ft) picture of the entire squad of Dallas Cheerleaders was a real eye-catcher.  We are informed that this cantina was not here a hundred and some years ago as the subject of Marty Robbins’ songs and, apparently neither Rosa nor Robbins was aware of the other until the song El Paso became a hit.  They have a couple of autographed photos on the back wall, reportedly given to the cantina on two of Marty’s visits sometime after the songs were off the charts.

The Rio Grande has often been described as: “a mile wide and a foot deep, too thin to plow and too thick to drink”.

From Adventure Cycling Tour Map “Field Notes”.

21Sep07: Day 4 – 44mi/Total 160mi/To Fabens, TX

We leave the CRV in the Home Depot parking lot and drive the RV to Fabens, Texas, about 40 miles southeast.  A vacant lot in the middle of this little town becomes our new home site.  Betty and the dogs will wait here while I bike back to and through El Paso to Home Depot and the car.  They are stuck in a less than desirable area with no car.  I talked with the folks in the lumber yard across the street and with the neighbors behind the RV. All seemed very friendly and welcomed us, but Betty’s red flags are up and she will be on the defensive while waiting.

Biking the first 15 miles was nice: through cotton fields and pecan groves in a partially built-up area.  The next ten miles were in a run down light industrial section with heavy traffic and a light (always red) at every block.  Somehow I got off track and was channeled by canals until I made a five mile circle.  Once back on the planned route, I was soon on Delta Drive.  This six mile road is on a “delta”, called El Chamizal, formed by the Rio Grande between El Paso and Juarez, Mexico and was a subject of dispute between the two countries for 112 years. Terms of the Gadsden Purchase established the centerline of the Rio Grande as the border. But, floods and other factors repeatedly and significantly changed the river’s course leaving the original border high and dry in places and giving the US a few hundred “extra” acres.  Finally, in 1963, an agreement was reached; a jointly funded project permanently re-routed the river to its 1851 location in a concrete lined “canal”.  This gave Mexico 436 acres and the US got 193 acres; 3,500 Americans were relocated and both countries agreed to establish bi-national cultural parks on their respective sides of the delta.  The US National Park Service maintains the Chamizal National Memorial and rangers there say this arrangement is a huge success and a shining example of how peaceful negotiations can solve bitter international issues.

Next, I was in downtown El Paso with all the hustle bustle of any US city with a half-million people, most of which are trying to get someplace else at 5 pm on Friday afternoon.  Central El Paso has lots of hills and I think I went up all of them.  Drivers in congested traffic have little tolerance for bicyclists insisting that they “share the road”.

Home Depot, CRV, bike on rack, 40 mile drive half of which is bumper to bumper and I am ready for a cool Corona.  Betty and I are both glad the day is over.

From the hills, high above the west Texas Town of El Paso,

I look down on Rosa’s Cantina and have feelings I do not know.

In another life, in another world;

Could I have been one who watched Feleena whirl?

With Apologies to Marty Robbins

22Sep07: Day 5 – 31mi/Total 191mi/To McNary, NM

It is Saturday.  Since we are on Mountain Time and lag Eastern Time by two hours, it means East Coast games will kickoff as early as 10:30 am local time.  Even though both Florida and South Florida were winning, I wasn’t feeling good.  It was kind of a nauseous malaise with body chemistry out of balance.  Looks like any riding will have to wait until this afternoon.

Ok, Florida won, and South Florida won big.  Too bad about Notre Dame, their legions of fans won’t tolerate much more of this.  I think my upset feeling was caused by watching football in the morning without beer, popcorn, chips, salsa and all the other good stuff;  it’s no wonder the body reacts abnormally, it’s just not natural.  I finally tore myself away from yet more games and got on the bike late in the afternoon.

Betty drove the rig ahead about 30 miles and I would meet her near McNary.  It was dark before I got there.  She found a wide spot at an isolated Exit off I-10.  A shower, lasagna, a couple glasses of wine and it is bed time.

“Blame no one, expect nothing, do something.”   Michigan Coach Lloyd Carr

23Sep07: Day 6 – 63mi/Total 154mi/To Van Horn, TX

As we were preparing for today’s ride, I looked out the window and saw two bikers taking a break on the road near our rig.  I hurried out to chat with them.  Neil and Paul (I think) are biking from San Diego to Savannah, their wives are driving a support car.  They stay in motels but prepare many of their own meals.  Soon their support arrived and we met Martha and Ester (maybe).  The guys are both doctors (a pediatrician and an orthopedic surgeon) in the Atlanta area.  After comparing notes concerning our respective rides, they went on their way and I fixed yet another flat on the rear tire of my road bike. It was caused by another small wire (from a steel belted tire).

The remainder of our route to Fort Stockton, TX will be on I-10 since there are no alternate roads nearby.  Soon after I got underway, Betty gave me a double toot as she passed by me.  Even though the interstate is mostly flat, it will gradually gain about one thousand feet on today’s ride.  Today there is only one exit with any facilities; I stop at Sierra Blanca for a sandwich and large Gatorade, plus a reload on my three water bottles.  The miles go by relatively easily. Traffic is moderate with a high concentration of large trucks.  The speed limit for cars is 80mph and 70mph for trucks, all of them fly.  I hug the right side of the safety lane.  A jackrabbit darted along side me and easily loped along for a few seconds, then accelerated a hundred feet ahead before disappearing in the sage brush.  I checked my speed, it was 18 mph so this guy must have been doing 25 mph as he left me in the dust.

Also, I observed another more serious incident.  As a semi-trailer passed me, I heard a rapid thumping.  Then the tread on one of his left tires came off, as it unrolled high into the air it was flailing wildly.  The tire was thrown nearly as high as the trailer (about 13 feet) and into the left lane.  It looked like it hit the back of a pickup truck that was just behind the tractor trailer.  That big chunk of tire must have been 12 feet long and appeared to have a life of its own as it twisted, turned and bounced along the pavement. Several subsequent vehicles quickly dodged one way or the other to miss the debris.

The semi had a smoking wheel as it came to a gradual stop, the pickup kept rolling.  During a break in traffic, I quickly pulled into the left lane to get by the now stopped truck.  That flying road gator could have done major damage to a small car and I don’t even want to think about it connecting with a bicyclist.  Last fall, I saw something similar but at the time I thought the truck had just run over the tire tread and tossed it high.  Now that I have clearly seen one fly off, I believe that both were tires separating at high speeds.

Betty found a pleasant KOA campground just south of Van Horn.  We sat outside for a little happy hour, then watched Sixty Minutes (they interviewed the idiot Iranian president).

It is now 11 pm (we entered the Central Time Zone today) and raining.  This is the second night it has rained.

“Men become old, but they never become good”

This came from a sign in a pub frequented primarily by men so I’m sure it was meant to be a compliment.

24Sep07: Day 7 – 38mi/Total 192mi/To Kent, TX

Betty and I depart the KOA campground at the same time.  She will take I-10 to Kent, TX, a tiny crossroads and I will follow.  After just five miles, I see she has stopped at a Rest Stop; it’s not often I can catch up or pass her.  I find that she is walking the dogs and continue pedaling.  Soon I get a double toot.

Biking on an interstate highway is not very interesting, sort of like driving on one.  The miles drone by without much diversion.  Constant concentration is necessary to avoid potentially dangerous situations.  Unlike driving, much of the concentration is focused only a few feet in front of the tires so a million tiny bits of information are whizzing through the mind every few seconds.  A few months ago, a bike magazine said the sensations of biking are similar to those of driving at four times the biking speed.  Dodging debris, even small bits, and staying as far right as possible keep me entertained mile after mile.  Any detailed scenery gazing must wait for a welcome break.

The terrain here is desolate and dry but it is probably not technically a desert.  The highest vegetation is mesquite which is green and only a few feet tall so the rolling landscape appears green with patches of brown sand.

Off I-10 at the Kent exit.  Betty and the rig are waiting at the side of the exit ramp by the shell of an old stone school house.  We get permission to park overnight at the local general store.  A large gravel parking lot is all ours.  However, during the night a Chevy Blazer parks in the back corner and later two tractor trailers pull along side us.  Like many highways in the West, a railroad track runs along much of I-10.  Passing trains have become a common sight (and sound) both day and night.  Last night we were parked about one hundred feet from the tracks and were reminded of the close proximity throughout the night.

Cowboy Wisdom:  “Think twice before you put your two cents in.  Most times you won’t have to spend a penny.”  From Don’t Dig for Water Under the Outhouse by Texas Bix Bender

25Sep07: Day 8 – 37mi/Total 229mi/To Balmorhea Exit on I-10

This morning, the two semi’s were gone and I greeted the two young guys in the Blazer with a pot of coffee.  Paul & Clyde (from Rhode Island & Michigan) are on their own cross country adventure.  A few weeks ago they climbed Mount Washington in New Hampshire and recently were in Saint Augustine, FL.  They have stopped at some farms to work a few days to fund their continued travels.

Betty walked over to the Post Office at the General Store and mailed some letters and cards.  I rode out as Betty was cranking the RV; we agreed to meet at a Rest Stop for lunch. She gives me a triple toot as she goes by, she must be feeling perky today.  The traffic is heavy, especially considering that we are in the middle no place.  The sun is really burning down, and the slight headwind is “almost” a blessing.  It is reasonably comfortable while riding, but when I stop for a break I cook.  As I dodged a black spot on the pavement, I saw that it was a tarantula.  It was about 5 inches across and fuzzy looking.

When I arrived at the Rest Stop, it took several minutes to cool down.  By the time we ate lunch and rested a bit, it seemed to be cooler.  Rain clouds were hanging over the mountains to the south and the wind was a direct crosswind.  As I rode the wind shifted to a crossing tailwind and it started sprinkling.  The road was pancake flat and I was zipping along at 20-25 mph with only a moderate effort, a good feeling.  Almost too soon, I arrived at our stopping point.  Betty was parked in a huge gravel lot behind a gas station/café and the O-  (Circle Bar; as a “brand” the bar should be under the circle, but I don’t know how to do that on this keyboard).  We had the “Texas Burgers” at the café, Rebecca, the young waitress, was very friendly and took good care of her only customers.  When I asked for a beer, Mary, the cashier, said I could get what I wanted out of the cooler.  When I asked if I could just take one out of a six-pack she said yes but it’s much cheaper to get the whole six-pack.  So, we sat there eating our “Texas Burgers” with a six-pack of Corona on the table (a seven course meal) while we chatted with Rebecca & Mary.  (Before Betty edits this, I should note that she had an iced tea and made certain all the beer was on my side of the table).

Back at the RV, we had some trouble getting the satellite dish to “lock-on”.  This was nearly a crisis; not only is Tuesday night the time for ‘NCIS’ & ‘The Unit’, but it is their season premier and the first showing of ‘Cane”.  Only after moving the RV, punching the “reset” button repeatedly and some other hocus-pocus, did we “lock-on” at the last minute.  Geez, that was close!

During the night, coyotes could be heard barking and howling across the flat range land.

Texas Trivia:

-FortStockton has the world’s largest “Roadrunner”; it is 11ft tall & 22 ft long and is on Main Street.

-A maverick is an unbranded cow or calf.  Sam Maverick, a Texan, refused to brand his cattle and hence laid claim to any unbranded cattle,“mavericks”, anyplace close to his range.  Young calves were lucrative targets.

–Tumbleweed reportedly came from Russia in 1873 when some seeds got mixed in with a shipment of flaxseed.  Also, we have heard that the term “tumbleweed” can refer to any of the many low growing bushy plants that tend to die, dry out and break off at the stem as they are blown across the range land.  The song, “Tumbling Tumbleweeds” written by Bob Nolan, in 1932, was originally “Tumbling Leaves”.  After audiences kept requesting the song about what they perceived to be “tumblin’ weeds”, Nolan changed the herbage and retitled it “Tumbling Tumbleweeds”.  It soon became the familiar theme song of the Sons of the Pioneers. This song info is from an insert in Michael Martin Murphey’s album Cowboy Songs.

–Dry Whiskey is made from the Peyote Cactus, also called Mescal. This cactus has psychoactive alkaloids and is illegal to harvest or possess.

Much of the above is from Frommer’s Exploring America by RV.

-“Don’t Mess With Texas” and “Drive Clean Across Texas” are phrases used in the State’s anti-litter campaign and are apparently working.  Their roadsides are some the cleanest in the country (Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, New Mexico and Nevada all have relatively clean roadsides).

26Sep07: Day 9 – 54 mi/Total 283mi/To Fort Stockton, TX

Hey, this is “D-Day”, Done for this year.  We have a couple of great burritos (egg, cheese, bacon & salsa) at the café and are on our way to Fort Stockton. Betty will park the rig in the KOA Campground, the same one we stayed at last November 28^th when we biked here from the East. Cheryl Self runs a good operation there, she is a ‘cancer survivor’ and took an interest in our trip last year.  Betty is looking forward to seeing her again.

High clouds make for a comfortable ride.  The first few miles go by fast, at 24 miles I wheel into a Rest Stop for lunch and realize that it is my first break of the day.  After a couple of energy bars, I reload on water and am back on I-10.  The previously smooth road surface turns rough the instant I cross into PecosCounty.  Road bikes don’t have much for suspension, no shock absorbers, so the ride is hard on both bike and body.  Occasionally, there is a frontage road as a safer alternative.

While on a frontage road, I see an obscure Historical Society marker nearly hidden by mesquite; it marks the site of an old stage station. In the 1850’s, Isaac & Sarah Jude moved here from Tennessee and ran a relay station for the Butterfield Stage company until it dissolved in 1861.  Sarah carried a pistol under her apron to protect her children. When the station was attacked by Indians, some of the men kept rifles loaded for her because she was calm and an expert marksman.  She outlived her husband by nine years and died in 1913.

I do some rough miles on the side road then get back on the interstate as the parallel road disappears; this switching back and forth repeats over and over.  A few days ago, one of the spokes on my rear wheel came loose, I tried to tighten it but now it has jarred loose again.  This allows the wheel to warp a bit, it then rubs against one side of the brake pads on each revolution.  Since it doesn’t make much sense to ride with the brakes on, I putz with it every few miles.  FortStockton has five exits and the KOA is at the last one, actually a few miles east of town.  The last miles seem to drag (pun intended), but eventually there is Exit-264.

Betty has the rig hooked up, leveled and Sat TV ‘locked on’.  We meet our next door neighbors, Bill & Dee Ross from Nashville, TN.  They are in a brand new Country Coach “Allure”.  At 37 feet it is one of the shortest luxury RVs available.

This RV park also operates the Roadrunner Café, “The Best Little Café In Texas”.  When Betty & I enter their little dining room, there is only one table available, it seats six.  Soon after we sit down, Bill & Dee arrive and join us.  The conversation during dinner is interesting as we swap travel stories and RV mishaps.  Afterward they invite us over to their new rig for a tour.  Very nice!  It has loads of innovative features packed into those thirty-seven feet.

Meanwhile back in our old rig, we toast the end of this phase of our continuing journey to Alaska.  We have now completed the entire route from Key West to the Canadian border along northern Montana, 4,220 miles.

Now, our intention is to return to Florida for the winter and continue the journey next spring.  We plan to resume the biking at the Montana-Canadian border in early May 2008 and will slowly bike our way to Alaska.  Hopefully, we will have plenty of time while there to explore our nation’s largest state and return to the lower “Forty-Eight” before ‘freeze-up’ in the fall.

Biking Key West to Alaska, progress as of 27 September 2007:

Phase IA (Key West, FL to Ft Stockton, TX)                            56 Days  –  2207 miles

Phase IB (Ft Stockton, TX to Hachita, NM)                                9 Days –     283 miles

Phase I Total              65 Days –   2490 miles

Phase IIA (Antelope Wells/Hachita, NM to Datil, NM)           10 Days  –    311 miles

Phase IIB (Canadian Border to Datil, NM)                                39 Days  –  1419 miles  

Phase II Total            49 Days  –  1730 miles

Phase III (Canadian Border to Alaska)                Will commence

Trip Total as of 27 SEP 2007          104 Days  –  4220 miles

 

    Note: The “Days” include about five ‘zero days’ (non-riding days, due to rest, logistics support, sightseeing, etc).

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

 

Phase 2:  Mexico to Montana via “Great Divide Route” 

    Aye Chihuahua!   Finally, here we are in the Chihuahuan Desert.  After many delays and lots of rescheduling we are resuming our bike journey from Key West to Alaska, albeit with some modifications.  Last fall we started in Key West and rode as far as Fort Stockton, Texas, about 2200 miles.  Because we are starting late in the season this year we have leaped over a couple hundred miles of Texas and New Mexico.  We plan to  catch those miles later this year.  Our current plan is to mountain bike from the Mexican border to the Canadian border on the “Great Divide Route”.  The GDR is a series of roads and trails on or near the Continental Divide.  It is about 2500 miles long, of which nearly 70% is gravel, either Forest Service or ranch roads, maybe 20% is paved and the remaining 10% is single track trail.  Betty is dropping me and my gear off in New Mexico and will stay with me through the desert, then she will return to Iowa.  This plan will allow me to continue the next leg of our trip to Alaska and will free Betty to be with her parents.  Plus, it’s a good excuse to get a new mountain bike.

25 May 2007: Day 1 – 45 miles from Antelope Wells, NM (Mexican Border) to Hachita, NM

  We spent last night in a motel in Deming, NM.  This morning Betty drove me to Antelope Wells, NM so I could start biking north from the Mexican border.  Never heard of Antelope Wells, neither had we.  All we saw were the border crossing stations.  I explained to the border guards what we were doing, they seemed unconcerned.  After unloading the bike and a few pictures I was on my way.  This first section is on NM-81 a narrow paved road through the desert.  There are no shoulders but there it almost no traffic so it doesn’t matter.  The Chiuahuan Desert is the largest desert in North America, over 75,000square miles.  Fortunately, it is partly cloudy today and the temps are in the low nineties.

Even though this is considered a desert (less than 12 inches of rain per year) it is sparsely covered with parched vegetation and has an active web of wild critters all trying to survive in a hostile environment.  Lizards and toads are a common site on the pavement and road runners, hawks, crows and buzzards are all looking for their next meal.  The road is mostly flat and straight, I suspect it will be some of the easiest pedaling of the entire trip: no hills and I am not carrying my camping gear.

Betty drives ahead and waits to make sure I am surviving and offers a cool drink.  We can see distant mountains all around us, the closest are the low Hachet Mountains about five miles east of us.   The last stop of the day is at the tiny village of Hachita (Little Hachet).  It is nearly a ghost town, most buildings are boarded up, only the “Desert Store” is open.  Hachita was a mining town (silver & copper) in the late 1800’s.  In 1916, General “Blackjack” Pershing (with his aide Lt George Patton) based here as he organized the punitive expedition into Mexico searching for Poncho Villa.  Several “firsts” surround these events: The first foreign invasion of the contiguous U.S. since the Revolutionary War and the first time motorized vehicles and airplanes were used in warfare.

OK, enuf of that, it was a long hot first day.  I need to get acclimated to the heat, the elevation (about 4500 ft) and the pedaling.  Betty whisked me off to Lordsburg, an air conditioned room, shower, cold beer and a Mexican dinner.  I slept well.

 26 May 2007: Day 2 – 27 miles/72 miles total; to Separ, NM (on I-10)

We saw an antelope on our way to Hachita, also several desert hares (similar to a small jack rabbit with black tips on their ears and tail).  The skies are clear today so it is a bit hotter than yesterday but as long as I keep moving the self generated breeze feels good.  We crossed the Continental Divide this morning, it was the first of 29 crossings along the Great Divide Route.  No doubt it will be the easiest crossing, in the mostly flat desert it would go unnoticed if not for a sign: “Continental Divide 4520 feet”.

There are dozens of different kinds of cactus here and many are in bloom.  The yucca has a stalk that shoots 3-10 feet above the plant and is covered with white flowers; they are everywhere.

As I ride north, I can see I-10 about 8 miles ahead across the flat terrain, only the trucks are apparent at this distance.  They appear as silver boxes sliding in both directions over the landscape.  Railroad tracks parallel the interstate.  As two trains approach from opposite directions, it appears as if two worms are crawling across the desert toward each other, they become one then escape one another and crawl away from each other.  (Maybe I’m getting too much sun).

Soon I am at I-10 and ride along a frontage road for 7 miles to Separ where I will meet Betty.  Then it is back to Lordsburg for creature comforts.

27 May2007: Day 3 – 34 miles/ 106 miles total: to NM-90

Today will be all off the pavement on ranch roads.  Since we don’t know the condition of the roads, Betty will drive back to Lordsburg and take NM-90 north to our stopping point, about 75 miles.  I will go straight north about 34 miles to meet her. .  In preparation for crossing 34 miles of desert, I load 5 liters of water, lunch and two Snickers bars.

While saying good-bye to Betty, she decides to drive the ranch roads and keep me supplied with water.  Actually, I think she did not want to miss out on the first adventurous part of the trail.  As I cross under I-10, I remember that almost exactly 12 years ago we were at this same point.  At that time, we were riding horseback from the Atlantic to the Pacific and rode west along I-10 for several hundred miles.  Now, I’m riding on a different kind of saddle, less comfortable, I think.

Betty keeps leap frogging ahead a few miles and gets some photos or reads while waiting for me to catch up.  The road is smooth, packed sand and gravel, it is a good feeling to ride right out in the desert.  Most places it is open range (no fences) with only cattle guards (metal bars or pipes crosswise to the roadway) to keep the livestock contained.  We see some cattle, but hare, antelope and deer are more abundant.  At one point I looked way up ahead and saw some large critter near Betty’s car.  As I got closer I could make out a huge Brahma bull (about the size of our Honda CRV) and some cows crossing right next to Betty.

I knew the flat terrain would end soon, it was gradual.  First, a few knolls to climb over, then some washouts to coast into, plowing through rutted sand at the bottom then more climbing.  The smooth sand road became more rocky and the knolls became hills.  This joy ride is fast becoming work!  Neither the legs nor the lungs are ready for the climbs and the higher elevation; I’m from Florida for gosh sakes!  I don’t look forward to toting all my camping gear over real mountains.  After bunches of ups and downs, we top out on a ridge that runs along the Continental Divide (Elevation: 6300 ft) for nearly 4 miles, nice.  Then, it was a steady decent for a couple of miles into White Rock Canyon.  I braked most of the way down, not letting my speed get much over 20 mph.  A section of the road with lots of loose gravel or soft sand could provide more excitement than I need.  Signs of civilization start to appear: tracks on the road, a small electrical power line, an occasional side lane to a lone house, a car.  Up to this point we had seen only one pickup truck with a couple of ranch hands.  Suddenly, there is State Road 90, and green trees.

We load the bike and head into Silver City and one of the first things we see is a micro-brewery.  A few beers and pizza later, we find a motel and I crash while Betty watches Sixty Minutes.

28 May 07: Day 4 – 24 mi/130 total mi: to Silver City, NM

It was an easy ride on NM-90 into Silver City.  After lunch, Betty went to look for a laundromat while I started packing the gear, food, clothing, tools and spare parts I might need for the next few weeks.  This is not an easy task, the essentials are a no-brainer, it is all the extras that might be needed that cause consternation.

Several weeks ago I had planned to use panniers (saddle bags) on both the front and back of the bike.  After experimenting with them, I was not confident.  The bike was really top heavy and unstable on gravel, especially down hills, also there was too much windage.   In a cross wind the bags were like a kite causing even more stability problems.  It was then that I remembered an observation from my good friend (and canoeing partner), Bill Quayle.  After using bags on a “Northern Tier” transcontinental ride, he said a small trailer would have worked better.  A little research and conversations with Keith Weary and other long distance bikers all supported the use of a trailer.  This is a major change in planning and packing.  The little “BOB” (Beast Of Burden) trailer arrived the day we departed Iowa for New Mexico.   Dave Puffer, who runs Cresco Bicycles in Cresco, IA, helped me get it all together and gave me lots of tips about using a trailer.  Dave pulled a BOB all over Central America a few years ago.  It is a low single wheeled trailer that attaches to the rear axle of the bike.  A large, waterproof cargo bag holds all the gear.

Now the problem is to reduce the amount of gear so the bag will close and still be waterproof, actually dustproof is more appropriate now.  If I put my tent and sleeping mattress (ZRest) on the front rack and loose items, that may be needed often, in a handle bar bag, then I just might be able to get the cargo bag closed.

Silver City is a neat town, it is like an oasis after coming out of several days on the desert.  It’s a small town, population about 10,000, and kind of down-to-earth trendy??  They had a Blues Concert on Main Street the day we arrived.  Plus, it has a couple of micro-breweries and two bike shops J.  Billy the Kid lived here until he was 15 years old and went on his crime spree.  There are several large mines near here, the Santa Rita copper mine is one of the largest in the country.  It is a strip mine with a crater 1600 feet deep and over a mile wide producing about 200 million pounds of copper annually.  The weather here is great, warm and sunny in the daytime and cool at night with low humidity.  We hope to come back some day and explore more of this area.

29 May 07:  Day 5/37mi/167 total to CD

While Betty went into Silver City, I peddled on to the Santa Rita mine overlook. We met there and loaded the BOB trailer attached to my bike. It’s a bit unwieldy but I’ll give it a try. Betty departed on her way back to Iowa and I was off to points north. It was a steep decent into Membres, I braked to hold the speed down and stopped twice to let hot brakes cool.
About 6 miles north of Membres, I stopped at a Forest Service Visitors Center to get info about the next 140 miles of trail.This will be one of the longest stretches without resupply, 243 miles.
The climb up to the Contenental Divide was very steep and a twisted two miles. Once on top (7,400 ft) the trail follows the Divide along a ridgeline for nearly 6 miles (Divide crossing #3). After about 2 miles I found a beautiful site to pitch my tent, views for miles in all directions. After a dinner of Mac & Cheese I’m ready crawl in the tent and pass out.

30 May 07:  Day 6/20mi/187 total miles to Black Canyon
These are 20 hard earned miles, Steep, rocky hills, without end.
The first five miles were beautiful, on a ridge line that is the Divide. There were some ups & downs but mostly easy peddling. I am on a seldom used Forest Service road, gravel and fist sized rock with some sand at times. The scenery is spectacular. Often with deep drop-offs right at the edge of the road providing incredible views.
Yesterday, Ranger Annette told me about some wild fires east of my route, today I could smell smoke. Once off the ridgeline, it was down a quite steep mountain side, constant braking. I stop every few minutes to let the hot brakes cool. I don’t know how much heat they can tolerate and still be effective, they sizzle when I spit on them. Brake failure would be disastrous, so I’ll not chance it. These brake breaks are not really a rest, I have to hold one of the brake handles tight to keep from rolling and keep the bike & trailer balanced upright.
Going up any more than a gentle slope is exhausting and soon requires pushing. The trailer is like a lead weight pulling backward. Even the pushing is difficult. Rest breaks going uphill require the same balancing act as downhill. This all equates to slow going.
The final descent today is long and steep, into Black Canyon. Even though going rather slowly, the rear tire went over a large rock and popped to the right, the downhill force of the loaded trailer pushed the rear of the bike more to the right and it was an instant jackknife. Now the whole rig is out of control and sliding sideways. I am still upright with one foot on the loose gravel. We come to stop still in a jackknife. Each effort to right the thing pushes us toward the side of the road, which drops off sharply. The trailer is on its side and I cannot upright the bike due to weight of the attached trailer. After several sliding attempts, I try to hold the bike with one hand and reach out to pick up the trailer with the other then release the brake enough to roll forward and get straightened and upright. Kind of tricky but finally we are up. There is no apparent damage. The remainder of the descent to our campsite was uneventful.
It is a beautiful camp, right on a fast flowing stream. I filled the solar shower bag and laid it in the sun to heat while I set up camp, washed clothes, purified five liters of drinking water and cooked dinner (Alfredo with broccoli). Both the meal and the shower were great.

31 May 07:  Day 7/17mi/204 total to Wall Lake
What a great campsite this has been, beside a rushing stream, nobody within miles, full moon; really peaceful, I slept well. It was cool last night, glad  brought a 20 degree bag instead of the lighter and more compact 40 degree one I usually use.

While checking over the bike before departing, I found that the trailer tire was flat. I took out the tube but could find nothing wrong with it, so I stuck back in, pumped it up and started. It was a late start and a long, steep, rocky climb out of Black Canyon; it took one and a half hours to push up the 2 miles. Then lots of ups and downs. Had tuna & peanut butter crackers for lunch on top of ridge.

About 4 miles from today’s end point, this Forest Service road had just been graded. I saw the fresh tracks where the grader operator had turned around to grade the other side of the road on his way back. This made it extremely difficult for a bike. The grader had plowed out the ditches leaving 4 to 8 inches of dirt, small rock and sand covering the road. I had to push through soft layer for nearly 3 miles. Each time I spotted a small lane scraped clear and tried to ride, I would soon get mired and wipe out if I tried to continue riding. About a mile prior to Wall Lake, I saw the grader off to the side in a clearing. The operator was done for the day and was cleaning up his rig. I could not pass this opportunity to vent. Edgar was a nice guy but unsympathetic. When I asked why he layered the road so deep at one time, he said: “Hey, we only maintain these roads once a year and we have to clean the ditches so the summer rain storms won’t erode the roadway.” Additionally, he said this road is being graded all the way to Pietown this week by another operator. And, that I should check with the Forest Service’s Work Outpost at Beaverhead, about 10 miles on up this road.

OK, for now I’m on ungraded road sailing downhill toward Wall Lake. An elk runs across the road only a hundred feet in front of me. I find a spot to pitch on a slope overlooking the lake and some red rock cliffs. While quietly preparing dinner, a doe mule deer browses a few hundred feet away.

Cooking at this elevation takes longer, water boils at a lower temperature. This pasta & veggie meal is usually done in about 7 minutes but at 12 minutes it is just getting edible. The past three days the trail has touched 8000 feet, I am camped at 7600ft.

The trailer tire held up for the day but is a little soft now. I’ll replace the tube tomorrow morning.

1 June 07: Day 8/32 mi/236 total to Winston for resupply.

It was a breeze peddling the couple of miles to Beaverhead,mostly downhill not yet graded. Clyde, a young Forester told me that the next section is not nearly as rugged and that the wide Plains of San Agustin are reasonably flat. However, he also said that about 25 miles had already been graded and they will be working on the rest of it next week. He suggested an alternate route that is not being worked, but is about 15 miles longer. Great!
So the plan is ride a mostly paved road to Winston to get supplies and tomorrow ride north on a gravel ranch road. Going to Winston is 11 miles out of the way (22 total) but I need to resupply and want to mail some items home to reduce weight.

It was good to be on pavement again, the miles go by much faster and with less effort. Crossed the Divide again. Clyde passed me a mile or so before I turned south for supplies.  When I got to the intersection he was waiting and offered me a ride to Winston. We tossed all my gear in the back of his pickup. It is Friday and he was on his way home for the weekend. He told me Winston was having their annual Festival celebration this weekend.

Winston is small, about 50 people. An empty RV campground allowed me to pitch for free. The store across the street had a shower for truckers and BBQ sandwiches, just down the street was the Diamond Saloon. Hey, things are looking up. During the evening I met nearly everyone in town plus many that come back every year for the Festival. Patrick Pyle played the guitar and sang western songs all night. At one time there were probably 20 in the Diamond and I was the only one not wearing jeans, including the women & kids.

2 June 07:  Day 9/30 mi/266 Total to ?

Got packed, mailed package, watched parade. The parade was at 11:00 and I rode out at 11:30.  The first 11 miles were paved that got me back on track, then I was on the gravel ranch road. Soon I was crossing a portion of the Plain of San Agustin. This is a huge high mesa with rolling grasslands spotted with sparsely forested hills. Mostly good riding, sometimes I got bogged down in loose gravel. Lots of cattle and cattle guards, at times cows were standing on the road.

3 June 07:  Day 10/45 mi/ 311 total to Datil

Almost total cloud cover this morning, first time it hasn’t been blue skies.
Had a fitful night.

Each time I would start to fall asleep I would sit up startled and anxious. The tent seemed confining and I had to get outside. After four or five such events, I thought I was going crazy then recognized what was happening. I had altitude sickness (mountain sickness). Nine years ago when I was hiking the Colorado Trail I had similar symptoms. Same thing then, after about a week on the trail at a high altitude, I did a 27 mile day crossing Georgia Pass in order to meet Betty and our niece, Tiph, in Breckenridge. Betty had rented a neat rustic pioneer cabin that was well over one hundred years old. That night I nearly drove them both crazy. Up & down, sleep in the loft, swap beds, sleep near the window, turn the heat off, etc. I even tried sleeping outside. After a couple of nights without sleep, I went to a doctor who immediately diagnosed it, prescribed some magic pills and I was cured within a couple of hours.

OK, now I need to find someone who can prescribe magic pills and I am 50 miles from no place. I decide to ride to the nearest little town and work out something from there. It is 30 more miles north on this ranch road,then 15 miles west on US-60 to the small town of Datil.

Early start (I was already awake), rolling hills still on the Plains of San Agustin, wide seemingly level expanses; the miles go by quickly. Since leaving Members several days ago I have seen an average of 3 vehicles per day. While on the Forest Roads it was mostly Forest Service trucks, now it is mostly ranch pickups pulling stock trailers. Most drivers wave, only 3 have stopped to ask if they could help or maybe they were really just inquisitive. After about ten miles, I can see large white satellite like dishes in the distance. As I move north, every hill top brings more into view. They are spread over miles in a methodical array across the Plains. What? Some kind of “ET” operation, New Mexico has a long standing reputation for spooky outer space stuff.

Some of the dishes that were in clear sight are now dim & darker, lightning flashes clear bolts straight to the ground near them. Wind direction, flash to bang time, cloud movement; hey this thing is coming my way. Foolishly, I think I can ride out of its path, not! I coast to a stop in a low spot, push the bike against the 3 foot bank across the road ditch,toss my tarp over the bike and crawl in under it. Sprinkles are already hitting the tarp. As the wind picks up, I tuck in the tarp as best I can and try to hold it in place. Now it is raining hard, big cold drops chill through the thin cover. Lightning cracks loud, hard and bright close by, but fortunately, not too close as I remember that I am hunkered up against a metal bike, hummm.

Almost as quickly as it came, it is over. Tarp, bike and trailer are splattered with mud, but all is well. The air is cool, I am damp and chilled, I push hard to warm up.

A mile or 2 ahead, I can see a dark spot in the road, a vehicle, an animal, somebody to talk to? Closer and it is obviously a black cow and there are lots more on both sides of the road. Two young bulls are going head-to-head raising clouds of dust, a real bullfight. They are all spooked when they see this strange contraption coming at them. There are over 50 of them and they start running in all directions, crossing and recrossing the road. I stop to allow the confusion to settle. Finally, they all gather on the left side, unfortunately there is a fence about 25 feet away from the road while the right side is open for miles, they are blocked between the road and the fence in a narrow strip. I ride slowly on the far side of the road, but no good they trot ahead, next they are running hard. I have inadvertently caused a stampede. They are way ahead of me, maybe a half-mile, and still going strong. These are some “in shape” cattle. After a couple of miles, there is a gate on their left, they run through it and out onto the range. Whee!

Cresting the next hill, I see that a young bull missed the gate and ran on up the strip. He faces me and we watch each other as I approach. Only a hundred away and turns and runs ahead, a mile, then another, finally he slows. It is on a long down hill stretch, I decide to whisk past him. He runs hard but my momentum going downhill is too much for him and I slowly pass the critter. I look back and he is standing watching me disappear, I suspect he is as grateful as I am.

Three miles south of intersecting US-60, a sign marks a road off to a cluster of buildings to the west. It is the National Astronomy Radio Observatory’s Very Large Array.  There must nearly a hundred of these huge dishes (each about 40 feet high). As I turn west on US-60, I ride right through a line of them.

Datil is 15 miles away, straight, mostly level and boring. Shucks, the only store in town is closed on Sunday. There is an RV park behind the store with only 2 RVs. A new neighbor says “Set up now, check in at the store in the morning”. I pitch, wash clothes, wash me (there is no bath house) and cook dinner. Hope to get better sleep tonight.

4Jun07 – 10Jun07: 0 miles/311miles Total

Last night was more of the same, no sleep.

On 4 June, I contacted the local EMT in Datil, the only medical service within 30 miles.  They listened to my tale of woe, checked vitals and made arrangements to get me to a clinic in Sorroco, NM.  The Nurse Practitioner, ran a few basic tests and determined I should go to a hospital for more tests, rest and further evaluation.  I tried to convince her that if I could just get a prescription for Diamox, I would be OK.  She felt otherwise due to elevated blood pressure, erratic pulse and other indicators.  We struck kind of a compromise; she would get the prescription and I would return to Datil, but I would get a more complete evaluation if I did not get a good nights sleep and if BP & pulse were still abnormal.

Drats, another night without sleep.  Those darn pills worked like a charm a few years ago, now they had no effect whatsoever.  Tossing and turning, all night I was positioned with my upper body outside the tent so I could get more air and avoid the claustrophobic feeling of being inside.  After one of the panic attacks, I made the decision that I had to have sleep and that I would get to a lower elevation and would take a break from the biking until I could find out what was happening.

The next morning, I asked the kind folks at the little store in Datil if they knew of anyone going to Socorro.  I wanted to get me and the bike plus gear to a rental car agency and would drive back to Iowa and a medical evaluation.  Good news, John Delong is pulling a trailer loaded with tree limbs to Socorro and is willing to let me strap my bike on top of the pile.  Bad news, when we get to Socorro, none of the three rental agencies will rent “one way”.  John agrees to take me on into Albuquerque, a hundred miles each way.  I agree to pay for the gas and lunch.

National Rental Car, 1445 miles and I am now in Iowa with Betty.  I feel normal (good) and am sleeping well, but have an appointment for Wednesday, 13 June to get a medical check-up.  We will determine what we will do next based on the results.

Day 42-  13 Nov-  53 miles/1580 total miles:  to Starks, LA

A light rain outside, we clean the RV, pack-up and drive north to US-190, my start point for the day.

Hey!  We discover that the parking lot we are in has Wi-Fi.  When checking and answering email we find we have a few phone calls to return.  OK, now it is lunch time.  Oh good, we’ll have the left-over gumbo, shrimp and Cajun stuffed potato.

Back on the road.  Good safety lane, light traffic and a very light head wind make for a pleasant ride.  After ten miles of flat road we climb a bit into gradually undulating terrain, not rolling hills but gentle changes that raise us out of the lowlands and there are some farms and more cattle on the higher land.

This fifty miles ride is another race with the sun.  After about 30 miles, I like lots of breaks to relieve the neck and shoulders and restore circulation on the bicycle seat.  No time for more than a quick drink, it is still a “long way to go and a short time to get there”.  Betty calls to say she is running late, I tell her I am too.  In addition to getting some groceries, she was going to the Kinder Post Office to pick up my wind/rain jacket.  I had forgotten it on the SAM train back in Cordele, GA.  Our friends Clay and Marybeth Kelley, found it and mailed it ahead to Kinder, LA.  Thanks guys!!

Betty passes me at mile 49 and finds a vacant parking area on the east edge of Starks, at mile 53.  What a good sight.  We wrap it up at about 5:15pm – too dark for my sunglasses, too dark to be riding.

Hot shower and cold beer for me and a glass of wine for Betty.  After a light dinner we are ready to turn in.  There is almost no traffic on LA-12 adjacent to our parking area; very peaceful.

From Betty:  We’ve spent a great deal of time traveling in the vicinity of US-190 which is also known as Acadian Trail.  I found it interesting to find out that Cajun comes from Acadian.  The 17^th century French colonists in Nova Scotia settled in a region they called “Acadia.”  During the rivalry between England and France the Acadians declared neutrality, however in 1755 they were rounded up by the English and shipped off to American colonies.  Most were refused entry into the colonies and were then shipped to many areas to include: France, Quebec, the French West Indies, French Guiana and the Falkland Islands.

In 1762 Spain gained control of Louisiana and needed settlers to bolster their claims.  In 1785 seven ships brought 1600 Acadians to Louisiana thus ending their 30 year exile.  The Acadians retreated into isolation along the bayous and open prairies west of the AtchafalyaBasin and began rebuilding their lives.  Their numbers slowly swelled as other Acadians learned about the new homeland.  Over the years French Acadians became known as ‘Cadians and eventually Cajuns. (Information found on the back of the Adventure Cyclist map for this area).

Now for Cajun cooking.  Wow!!  We love the taste of Cajun food.  Tom Billiodeaux told me to be sure and buy Cajun spices before leaving the area.  He suggested I buy Tony Chachere’s seasoning and also already prepared Roux (which is the base for Gumbo).  He said you can make it at home from olive oil and flour, however you really have to get the mixture very dark and end up stinking up the kitchen, so many folks buy the already prepared (powdered) Roux.  I did as he suggested.  He also offered to send a recipe for Gumbo and I received it when I last had a computer connection.  Many Thanks, Tom!!

Day 43-  14 Nov-  35 miles/1615 total miles: to Evadale, TX

Yahoo!  Today we enter Texas.  We leave the CRV at our dry camp in Starks, LA drive the RV into Texas and get permission to park at a small restaurant that won’t open until lunch time.  Betty rides with me and we get some pictures at the entrance marker at the state line.  It seems that all highways entering Texas have a large, (about 8 ft high and 8 ft wide) brick and concrete, monument in the shape of the state.  We remembered the excitement during the Transcontinental Trailride when everyone rode their horses near the monument for a picture.  Now we have our bikes by the state marker, not quite the same “Texas image” as the horses were.

We have lunch at the Corral Restaurant where we had parked the RV.  Their small hamburger steak was huge.  More left-overs.  We move the RV ahead to Evadale, TX and I ride back to get the car.  We are dry camped in a parking lot used by carpooling commuters and truck drivers.

The weather here is as warm and humid as it was in south Florida 6 weeks ago.  The price of unleaded is $1.86 and diesel is $2.29 per gallon.  It’s good to be back in Texas.

From Betty: Here is the recipe from Tom and Debbie —  Enjoy!

Gumbo

Cook: Debbie Billiodeaux

Start by using a pot that will hold 2x total volume you want:  Soup or Gumbo pot with 13 inch diameter will hold ½ gallon per inch.  Just use a soup pot that will have capacity of at least 4-5 Gal.

You will start with 2 gallons of water.

Ingredients:

• 8 tblsp Roux (about a good handful)
• 3 tsp chopped garlic
• 2 cans (12oz) chicken broth
• 16oz bag chopped okra
• (optional) 1 tbsp dried shrimp (do not use more as it will offset flavor).
• 1 cutup HEN. Remove skin, but not all the fat.  May cook the skin for added flavor, but take it out before serving.
• Smoked Meat: 2 pcs tasso (1/4 lb) ,  smoked sausage (3, 10” links)  slice sausage into ¼” to 3/8” pieces.  Use diagonal slices to have larger pieces.
• 1 large onion- chopped
• ½ bell pepper – chopped
• Season well with Tony Charchere Seasoning mix.
• Fresh parsley (4 stalks) – chopped
• Fresh Green onions (1 bundle, or 5-7 stalks) – chopped

Instructions:

Fill Pot with 2 gallons tap water or about 1/3 volume.

Everything above goes in the pot.  Heat and stir to dissolve roux.  Cook on medium (low boil) till chicken is tender.  Usually takes about 2 hrs.  Tougher meat may take up to 4-6 hrs.

About 10 – 20 minutes before done, add the parsley and green onions.

Rice:  Cook 2 cups of rice for 6 people.

Serving Extras:  French bread, Gumbo File’

Tom tells me the word HEN is very important.  It must be a HEN.  He also says that when they are out camped they use squirrel, rabbit or duck.

Day 44- 15 Nov- 50 miles/1665 total miles:  to about 15 mi SE of Cleveland, TX

It was warm and humid yesterday, a cool front moved through during the night.  This morning the humidity is low and the wind howling out of the Northwest.  Oh crap, I’m biking west.

This was the most physically and psychologically demanding day of the trip so far.  Pedaling hard into the wind is twice the effort for half the distance.  Unbelievably, I would gear down to near “grandma”, making 6 or 7 mph and still have to work hard.  At times the gusts would nearly blow me into the middle of the road, not good.  And, the temp was dropping.

While having a BBQ Sandwich for lunch I met Lawrence Parthum, a CPA who is the Hardin County Auditor.  He asked about the bike trip and passed along some information about the roads I would be riding on for the next 20-30 miles.  He said he couldn’t help with the wind.

During a break at a convenience store, I overheard two old Texans talking about the wind.  Both were probably in their late 70’s, neat and cleanly dressed in the typical Texas uniform: jeans, boots, wide belt with large buckle and large brimmed hat.  One said he had heard on the TV that winds would be 20 mph gusting to 30 mph.  The other guy said I hear that too, but I know better; the roof on my feed shed doesn’t start to lift until the wind gets to 40mph and gusts were lifting it.  The first guy reckoned as how his friend should do a better job of nailing down the roof of the feed shed.

Betty moved the RV to a “Thousand Trails” campground at Lake Conroe, we received a membership in Thousand Trails a few years ago when we bought an RV.  She drove back to get me.  A long drive but we plan to be at Lake Conroe a couple of days.  The plan was for me to continue riding west on TX-105 and Betty would drive east until she met me.  I was tired, cold and glad to see her.

“Way out west they have a name for rain and wind and fire; … and they call the wind Mariah, MARIAH!

From Betty:  I can believe the gusts were 40mph.  Driving that big billboard/kite down the road was a real treat!!  I’m just glad to have this day behind me and hopefully less wind in the future.

We were just talking about the fact that we only have about a week and a half before we need to head back to Florida.  We hope to be someplace in west Texas and maybe near New Mexico.

Oh, about the Thousand Trails campsites.  Because we have a membership and pay a yearly fee, we can stay in them up to about 240 days a year.  They are usually full hook-up campsites and also they always have some type of internet connecting possibilities.  In the case of this park we have Wi-Fi right to our RV.  We’ve stayed in the one at Hershey, PA, Orlando, FL, San Antonio, TX and this one.  There are a couple others, but I don’t remember which ones.

Day 45-16 Nov-49 miles/1714 total miles: to about 10 miles west of Conroe, TX

The weather report this morning showed yesterday’s winds had max gusts exceeding 45 mph recorded all over this area with 48 mph being the highest.  About 600 local homes were without power due to limbs blown onto powerlines.  Later we learned there was considerable damage east of us; especially in Louisiana and Alabama.

Today the winds will be out of the west but at only 10 to 15 mph and temps in the forties.  Betty made the long drive to drop me at the same point I stopped at yesterday.  After yesterday, it was almost a pleasure to bike into a light headwind.  Most of the route had a wide, smooth safety lane.

At noon, I passed an American Legion Post that had a sign announcing “lunch”.  I met Dough McKinney, the Post Adjutant.  A wiry Texan who seems to run this Legion Post.  He took an interest in our bike trip and called Mari McAhan to bring a camera.  He wanted a picture for their Post newsletter.  Marti took a picture then she took some notes for a short article.  Doug showed me a picture on their bulletin board of the Post mascot, a mule.  He said he owned another mule.  I wondered if my picture would go next to “Colonel J’s” picture.  When I told Doug that over the years I had found that mules and their owners seemed to have a lot in common, Marti nodded yes.  My first observation of this was with my grandfather and his mule, “Ned”, but I continue to be amazed by this phenomenon.

Hope I did not offend Doug, it was meant as a tribute to his tough character.  His generosity showed when he wrote a check for a donation to the American Cancer Society from their Post.  Thanks to Doug, Marti and all the members of American Legion Post 393.

Through Cleveland, TX, 22 miles and through Conroe, the miles rolled by.  Betty drove along Texas Highway 105 until she spotted me.  We went back to the RV for a shower then out to Los Cucos for a great Mexican dinner.

Day 46-  17 Nov-  33 miles/1747 total miles: to Navasota, TX

Temps were in the low 30’s last night.  Cool, sunny and only light winds this morning.

This campsite (Thousand Trails) has full hook-ups (water, electricity and sewer) and Wi-Fi.  This means we can do the wash and catch up on our email.  This all translates to a late start.

Texas State Road 105 West rolls through east Texas, long easy grades, mostly with a wide, smooth safety lane.  Traffic is moderately heavy and moves fast.  State Troopers are rare but when they do show up sometimes it is “en mass” and they mean business.

This reminds me of a story relayed by Jim Goddard, a Naples friend.  It seems a trooper pulled an old Texan over for speeding.  The trooper lectured the old guy for some time.  During this dissertation, he sometimes swatted at flies buzzing around his face.  As the trooper started writing the ticket, the old Texan said “I see the Circle Flies are getting to you”.  The officer said he’d never heard of Circle Flies.  The old man told him they call them Circle Flies because they fly in circles around the horses butt.  The trooper got indignant and asked if the old guy was calling him a horses butt.  The Texan said “Oh no, I’d never do that”.  Then, as the trooper continued writing the ticket, the old Texan said “But you just can’t fool those Circle Flies.”

In Navasota, Betty got permission to park overnight in a fuel station in an industrial area.  Since it was a low mileage day, I arrived in mid-afternoon.

I took advantage of the extra time to replace my front tire.  It was wearing thin and had a couple of cuts and worn spots.  The thorn resistant tube and the “Tuffy” liner seemed to be fine so I stuffed them back into the new tire.  Pumped to 115 pounds of pressure, we are ready to roll tomorrow.

Day 47-  18 Nov-  56 miles/1803 total miles: to Giddings, TX

A sign that we are moving west, rail traffic is increasing.  We are parked near the intersection of two rail lines.  It seemed that about ten trains going one way or another sounded their long wailing whistle during the night.  Fortunately, we both like trains.  Betty grew up in Lime Springs, Iowa with trains running through their little town day and night; she slept well without interruption.  I just smiled and went back to sleep while thinking of Johnny Cash, the Trans-Siberian Railway, the SAM Shortline and model trains around our Christmas tree.

It is a perfect biking day; cool, no wind and sunny.  The first 25 miles are up and down rolling terrain and the remainder was flat.  The miles slipped by easily.  Small towns appear every 15-20 miles with fenced ranches in between.  The ranches are probably small by Texas standards.

Another measure of our progress is the rivers that we cross.  Native Americans have used these rivers for thousands of years.  This nation was explored and settled using the rivers.  Many of our political borders were established along our rivers.  Every time I bike across a major river, I reflect a bit on its history.  Visions of Indians in canoes, explorers paddling into the unknown, keel boats and steam boats with supplies and produce, flash through my mind as I pedal over a modern bridge on a busy highway.  Rivers that come to mind on this trip are:  the Chattahoochee, border between Georgia and Alabama, the Alabama River and Tombigbee, the Pearl River that forms part of the border of Mississippi and Louisiana and the mighty “Mississip” that borders many states.  In Texas the Sabine River once marked the extent of Mexican territory and is now the border with Louisiana.  The Neches, Trinity, Navasota and Brazos all conjure memories of books, movies and historical events.  Today as I biked by “Washington on the Brazos”, I could imagine Texans plotting their revolt against Mexico here.  I like rivers.

We have now intersected US-290 and may stay on it for the next 200 miles or so if the safety lane stays wide and smooth.  This route takes us west through Austin to I-10. Betty has called the Texas Highway Patrol in the area we will be passing through to insure that it is legal to ride along the Interstate.  Some places in the west, the Interstate replaced local roads so now exceptions are made to allow foot, horse, tractor and bike traffic.

Our home for the night will be in the Giddings Ramada Inn parking lot.  Betty got permission to dry camp there and they have Wi-Fi.

Waiting wife, warm welcome, cold beer, Auburn vs Alabama, popcorn, pizza; what more could a guy want!

PS – Just before turning in for the night I took our two little dogs for a walk.  Somehow, in the dark, we got into sandspurs, lots of sandspurs.  The dogs had so many of these nasty little “needle balls” that they couldn’t walk and I couldn’t carry them.  I yelled for Betty to help me.  We spent the next two hours pulling, cutting, combing and comforting; all four of us were repeatedly “punctuated” with agony.  Won’t do that again!

From Betty:  Now it makes you wonder what he means by that?  Won’t get into sandspurs? Won’t walk the dogs?  Won’t pull stickers out?  Yes, we’re back in sandspur country.

Day 48-  19 Nov-  62 miles/1865 total miles:  to Austin, TX

A good day for biking.  I rode out before Betty.  After about 30 miles I saw this old Roadhouse in Bastrop.  Folks were eating outside on this cool sunny day, it was too good to pass up.  I called Betty, she was less than 10 miles away.  Lunch was good.

The entrance to Bastrop State Park was just across the highway from the Roadhouse, so we dumped our tanks.

Betty drove on in to Austin, about 30 miles.  She wanted to get the RV through Austin today, hoping that Sunday traffic would be lighter than a workday.   She found a place to dry-camp at a Super WalMart.  It was nearly dark by the time I came dragging in.  Glad I wasn’t in their “heavy” traffic.

After a shower, but before supper (this is a “happy hour”), I got chilled and felt weak.  I knew it was serious when Heineken didn’t taste good.  In bed by 8pm with extra blankets.

Day 49-  20 Nov-  50 miles/1915 total miles:  to Johnson City, TX

About 4 other RVs spent the night in Austin’s Super WalMart parking lot with us.  We have found that dry camping at WalMart usually costs us about one hundred dollars as we re-supply for the next few days.

It’s amazing what eleven hours of sleep will do for the human body.  Still a little weak, but I woke up feeling good.

Back out into the moving maze of Austin roads and traffic.  Somehow, the safety lanes seem to disappear as we enter a large town or city.  My riding position is on the far right, the problem is that exit and entrance lanes often leave me stranded between lanes waiting for a break between speeding vehicles to dart back to the right side of the right lane.

Ok, out of Austin and into Texas hill country; rolling hills revealing great vistas from the tops and dry creeks in between.  With a ground cover of drying grasses, cactus, mesquite, juniper and small oaks, this is ranch country.  Local folks tell us that it is greener and not nearly as dry as most years.  This would be great biking if it were not for the rough road surface.  The asphalt has a surface of crushed rock.  The constant jarring is hard on bike and body, vehicle tires howl as they pass.  My bike speed is reduced by 5 to 10 mph and the pedaling is harder.  We have been moving west on US-290 for about 150 miles.  Tomorrow, we will intersect I-10 and hope to ride on the safety lane or a frontage road the next 500 miles to El Paso and New Mexico.

Ah yes, it is Johnson City and the Road Runner RV campground.  Betty has refilled the propane tank and hooked up on a beautiful site.  Crock-pot lasagna, fresh salad, Italian bread and a glass of red wine.  Life is good!

And we had a Road Runner right outside the RV.

Day 50-  21 Nov-  32 miles/1947 total miles:  to Fredericksburg, TX

The locals say it got down to 32 degrees last night, but I didn’t see frost this morning.  It is cool and sunny with a light SW wind.

We decided to take some time to visit the boyhood home of President Lyndon Johnson.  He was born in 1908, on a farm about 13 miles west of Johnson City.  One of his grandfather’s nephews donated the land for the town which is how it was named.

Lyndon’s family moved to town when he was just a few years old.  They lived in a small, modest, frame house without electricity or plumbing, but it was one of the nicest homes in Johnson City.  The house has been restored to its 1920s condition.  Even though that was a couple of decades before we were born, Betty and I felt a bit like we were walking into our own past.  It had wood burning stoves, including the cook stove, kerosene lamps, an icebox, high ceilings, small rooms and looked a lot like the little house I lived in until I was about 8 years old.

As with most past Presidents, the National Park Service preserves and manages the buildings and grounds.  They have interesting displays and a short film at the Visitor’s Center.  All the park Rangers were knowledgeable and most informative.  Mike McCoy, an interpretive Ranger, and I discussed their exhibit of Vietnam era military uniforms.  While talking I discovered that he is also a long distance biker.  He has biked across the US several times and spent last summer touring New Zealand by bike.  He gave Betty and me lots of info about roads and sights we might consider as we move west.

By 2pm, I was biking west.  Betty drove the RV to the LBJ Ranch west of town and found their tour there very interesting.  We are in the heart of “Texas Hill Country”.  The ups and downs aren’t as troublesome as the rough surfaced highway and the quartering headwind.  When I bike by the LBJ Ranch, I saw our RV in the distant parking lot and knew Betty would be on the Park Service bus tour.

There are a number of Historical Markers along the road side.  If they are reasonably accessible, I stop to get a sense of the area and its history.  Plus, it is a short break that I look forward to from the time I see the “One Mile” sign.  Today, I just missed a marker on the opposite side of the road.  It was an old parking lot with a loose gravel surface.  As I made a U-turn, the wheels slipped on the gravel and I was down in a flash.  My feet are locked to the pedals so an instant response to stop a fall is not possible.  The results were uncomfortable but nothing broken.  The heel of my left hand broke the fall.  That hand and wrist were just healing from the fall Betty and I had back by the Mississippi River when our bicycles tried to mate.  Later, Betty pointed out that today’s fall had scraped the “Mississippi” scab off my left knee and some blood had tricked into my sock; looked bad but not a problem.

This is my second fall caused by not getting my feet out of the pedal locks quickly enough.  The first was in Tampa riding with Beth Lawson.  We were stopped at a pedestrian crossing and I just fell to the side, she was nice enough not to laugh.

On US-290, we passed just north of Luckenbach, Texas (think “Back to the Basics of Love” by Waylon Jennings).  We have passed through several other little Texas towns with interesting names, like: Hye, Dripping Springs and Cut & Shoot.

Because Betty was on an afternoon tour, I arrived in Fredericksburg, found the Hill Country RV Park and made arrangements for us to stay the night before Betty arrived.  This was a first.  I called her cell phone to let her know where to stop.  Soon, I saw Betty driving up just as confident as if she were driving a small car.  It seems almost unnatural to see this little gal at the wheel of such a big rig; and towing a car.  While hooking up, I met Chuck Penn, a fellow camper; he is from Minnesota, near the Twin Cities and is also a biker.  We had a short chat about our trip before we both had to get on with our assigned chores.

Fredericksburg had a large contingent of German settlers and now has many appealing German restaurants and shops.  We had Roulade and Jaeger Schnitzel in a very “German
atmosphere – great!

From Betty: I really enjoyed the LBJ Ranch Tour.  It was a 28 minute film followed by an hour and a half bus tour.  LBJ really enjoyed taking visitors to the ranch and conducted a lot of his business there because he felt comfortable on his turf.  He had some good fun with his visitors as well.  He had an amphibious car and would take unsuspecting guests for a ride around the ranch.  The ranch is on the Pedernales River and when they would get near the river he would say “Oh no, the brakes have failed, looks like we’re going to end up in the river” and he would drive into the river.  Sometimes people would jump out of the car and he would have a good laugh.  The ranch is a working ranch.  They have cows and a few horses.  Lady Bird still comes to the ranch “White House” on special occasions, but she no longer lives there full time.  I think they said she lives in Austin.  The ranch is run together by the National Park Service and the Texas State Parks.  A very unusual arrangement that LBJ set up before his death.

Chuck and I decided it would be fun to visit the home sites of all the past Presidents.  Actually we wondered whether we should go visit “W” for Thanksgiving Dinner.  Their ranch is in Crawford, TX which is near Waco and a couple hours north of us.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!

Day 51-  22 Nov-  48 miles/1995 total miles: to 6 miles S of Segovia on I-10

Riding out of Fredericksburg, the German influence was obvious for miles in the names of roads and ranches.  The rough surfaced road continues.  Constant jarring shook my mirror loose; I did not go back to look for it.

Cell phone coverage here is sketchy at best.  I tried to contact Betty and arrange to meet for lunch.  Then, as I was eating in the Longhorn Café in Harper, I saw her drive by.  Later she said she saw my bike outside but could not find a convenient place to park the big rig.  The Longhorn Café must be a local favorite, it was packed.  The walls are covered with hunting trophies, cowboy paraphernalia and pioneer tools.  I talked with Ron, a local biker, who is doing a day ride on “The Werner Loop?”  Linda, one of the waitresses, asked about my little McDonald pin.  When I told her it was given to me by one of the staff at a “Big M” in Luverne, AL, she said they didn’t have any pins but she would give me a pen.  I was so surprised; I walked out without leaving a tip.  Their address is on the pen, I will mail a tardy tip to Linda and the other girl who were so busy today.

As we move west through Texas Hill Country the land is getting progressively drier.  More cactus, more mesquite, browner grasses.  Texas Hill Country is a transition area between lower, more humid, east Texas and higher drier west Texas.

Finally, I arrive at I-10.  As I proceed on the entry ramp, I watch for signs that might prohibit bicycles; none.  I am flying along on a smooth surface, mostly flat super-highway with a tail wind.  This is my first biking experience on an interstate.  The speed limit is 80mph, but 20 is about all I can muster unless going downhill, then maybe 30mph for a few moments.  Only 6 miles from where Betty is parked, I have a blow-out, rear tire.  Rather than patch it or replace it with another flimsy tube, I called Betty.  She took me back to the RV and I replaced the tube with a “thorn resistant” one, put in a “Tuffy” liner and replaced the worn tire.  Tomorrow, Betty will take me back to mile marker 472 and drop me off to start the day.

For the past couple of days, Betty has been methodically planning our Thanksgiving dinner.  Turkey is thawing, she got cranberries, oranges and nuts this morning and pie is ready.  It takes some extra thought and effort to put together a special meal “on the go”.  But, there is no doubt that tomorrow it will be a “moveable feast”.  I plan to bike early and relax later, after the big meal.

From Betty:  We parked in the Econo Lodge RV Park in Segovia.  They have an RV park right next door to the Lodge.  The Lodge is operated by Pravina and Dilip Khatri.  They were very nice.  They don’t have Wi-Fi to the RV park, but do have it in the Lodge and said I could go in and use it.  Time wise, I didn’t have time to go over, but this morning when I left I went to give Mr. Khatri one of our cards I had promised him.  He had hoped to take a picture of Chuck, but Chuck was already on the road.  Many Thanks to the Khatri’s for a great stay.  The plan today was to ride from Mile Marker 472 to Roosevelt, however a late start caused us to change the plan and stop in Junction – in order to have our Thanksgiving Dinner and take the afternoon off.

Day 52-  23 Nov-  18 miles/2013 total miles: to Junction, TX

Thanksgiving!  Betty took me back to Mile Marker 472 on I-10.  It was a leisurely 6 miles ride on up to our Segovia Campsite.  Betty and I washed the RV and the CRV; they really needed a bath.

Betty then drove on west to Junction.  It was a pleasant 12 miles ride for me.  While Betty prepared dinner, I worked on bikes and did some “organizing” in the CRV and basement of the RV.  Also, we caught some of the Dallas vs TampaBay game.  Dinner was great, and the left-overs will be a real treat.  After dinner, we drove the CRV up to a high bluff overlooking Junction and this entire valley.  It was a grand view; the setting sun cast a crimson glow on the distant horizon.  This is big country.

It was a good day.  We have so much to be “thankful” for, it is good to have a special day to reflect on our blessings.

From Betty: We’re in the Junction KOA.  We’re on the Llano River.  When I started thinking about what I was going to be cooking I realized I would need 50 amp electric and we only had 30 amp in Segovia.  As it happens we also have Wi-Fi to the RV.  When I checked in here at the KOA, they said someone who came in yesterday had asked if they had a long distance biker staying here.  We figure it was probably someone who passed either Chuck or I on the road and saw the signs.

We had a great Thanksgiving and we do have many blessings for which to be thankful.

Many Thanks to the great staff at Junction KOA.

Day 53-  24 Nov-  62 miles/2075 total miles:  to Sonora (mm-394 – 4miles west on I-10)

The campsite we were in for Thanksgiving was a KOA campground.  KOA sites are usually pretty nice with many amenities and cost a few dollars more than others.  Besides having Wi-Fi and cable, it is also located on the LlanoRiver which actually has flowing water.

I rode out of the campsite west along the River on a paved secondary road which will intersect I-10 in about 12 miles.  In the middle of no-place there are two historical markers side-by-side.  One tells of a Spanish Marquis who camped here on the river bank in 1667, he was sent to Mexico by the King of Spain to assess Spanish missions.  As a result all but two were later closed.  San Antonio and one other remained operational.  The other historical marker noted that Captain N. O. Reynolds established a Texas Ranger outpost here in 1877.  He and 30 men helped protect settlers from raiding Comanche’s and desperadoes.  This area hasn’t changed much with the passing centuries.  The Spanish have left, Indians are no longer raiding but the land is the same: still in the middle of no-place.

Back on I-10, moving west, vehicles flying by.  The wind is from the South, mostly a cross-wind, however, as the interstate curves, it is sometimes a headwind.  It seems that it is never a tailwind.  (Actually, sometimes it is but the forward motion of the bike overshadows it).  Long but not steep hills, sometimes smooth, sometimes rough safety lane, dodging road debris; and so go the miles.  Every mile-marker is an event.  My mind is occupied with simple arithmetic: started at mm456, now at 428, geez only have gone 28 miles, not even half-way.  Let’s see, at this average speed, I will meet Betty at 4:45pm.  It gets too dark to ride safely by 5pm.  I’d better speed up if I expect to take any rest breaks.

Betty is waiting at a Rest Stop.  It has a lot of traffic coming and going in a relatively small area, she suggests we check out the next exit.  It is great – nothing there but a wide gravel parking area and an oil well derrick about a half-mile away.  It is our dry camp for the night.

Far from the glow of any city lights, it gets really dark and stars fill the sky.  This is to be expected, after all, we are “deep in the heart of Texas”.

Day 54-  25 Nov-  45 miles/2120 total miles:  to Rest Area at MM349, 16 miles W. of Ozona

We had our little dry camp all to ourselves last night.  This morning, Betty took me back two miles to the busy Rest Area we abandoned late yesterday afternoon.

A kiss good-bye and I ride west.  Sounds like something out of an exciting Western novel; but not.  The reality is: more long, uninteresting miles on the Interstate.  Neck and shoulders ache from bending down but looking up, butt aches from too much time on the saddle (bike seat) and hands and wrists ache from constant jarring caused by a rough road surface.  High speed traffic whizzes by less than ten feet from my bike, I dare not lose my concentration and stray to close.  Are we having fun yet?  Yes, I think so.  At the top of each rise I can see for miles: bluffs, dry stream beds, small hills covered with mesquite and cactus with no vegetation more than 20 ft high.  I think of pioneers, settlers, ranchers, Indians all eking out a living from a harsh land.  Hey, makes me realize I’ve got it pretty good, especially after a hot shower and two cold beers.  Now my biggest complaint is that there is no TV reception, not even a fuzzy hint and we are missing the Florida vs Florida State game.  Life is tough riding the range.

Interstate exits here are few and far between.  Many of the exits are only an intersection of some small desolate road to a distant town that may only be a wide spot.  It is a challenge for Betty to find someplace for us at a comfortable riding distance each day.  Tonight we are dry-camping at a Rest Area.  This one is roomier and not nearly as busy as the one we checked yesterday afternoon.

Passing Observations:

In the Big Thicket of East Texas the top road kill victims were raccoon and cotton tails.  In Texas Hill Country it was white tail deer.  As we move into West Texas no one species dominates.  In the past couple of days road kill has included a jack rabbit, mule deer, red fox, coyote and two javelina.

The road sides in Texas continue to be the cleanest we have seen: “Don’t Mess With Texas”.

Day 55-  26 Nov-  42 miles/2162 total miles: to MM 307

Windy dawn, maybe 15 mph out of the south, cool morning.  On the road, slight tailwind, smooth surface, good biking.  Cross the PecosRiver.  Meet Betty for lunch at a service station lot, MM328.  We finish the ride at MM 307, then drive to FortStockton, where we will finish tomorrow.  We leaped ahead to a campground so we could dump tanks, fill fresh water and do laundry.  Tomorrow, I will drive back to MM 307, leave the CRV there, and bike to Ft.Stockton.  Then, Betty and I will start driving east.  We will pick up the CRV and continue to Florida.  It will be our last biking day until next spring.  Somehow this doesn’t seem quite right, but the break will be good.  We need to renew our bike supplies and refresh body and spirit.  Plus, we are looking forward to Christmas with Suz and family.

We are staying at a KOA Campground just east of Fort Stockton and see a Roadrunner as we are about to enter.  It was our first Roadrunner on this trip and a fitting symbol for the ending point of this phase of our trip.  We have dinner at the campground restaurant, The Roadrunner Café.

From Betty:

It’s been so interesting the different climatic zones and vegetative systems we’ve traveled through.  This country is beautiful and very diverse.  We are really enjoying the differences.

This KOA (Ft. Stockton KOA) is a great campground and owner, Cheryl Self, has allowed me to wait until Chuck returns from his biking day (11-27) before pulling up camp – normal check out is 11am and Chuck will probably return about 2:30pm.  In fact, when I told her about our trip and our cause, she said she is a cancer survivor and said when we resume our trip in the spring to come back compliments of her.  It’s nice to meet so many wonderful folks!

Thanks Cheryl.

Day 56-  27 Nov 2006-  45 miles/2207 total miles: to KOA Ft Stockton, TX (MM 265)

Yesterday, I forgot to mention that after the ride I checked my bike tires and found some pointy objects: I pulled out 3 small thorns in the rear tire and 2 in the front tire, plus a very thin wire in the front tire.  I suspect the wire is a broken piece of “steel belt” from a radial tire.  Tire pieces are, by far, the most common road debris, from 8 foot long tread to small bits and pieces of rubber and wire tangles.

This morning my front tire was flat.  Maybe that needle like wire got through the Tuffy liner and the thorn resistant tube.  When pumped up it held so I rode with it.  Routinely, I carry a small patch kit and a spare flimsy (not thorn resistant) tube.

The wind was out of the south at 15 gusting to 25mph.  It is a strong cross wind that varies from a quartering tailwind to headwind.  The views are great, large valleys, mesas and long ridges.  I-10 cuts through some of higher terrain exposing the sedimentary limestone that lies under the sandy soil of this area.  For a stretch of about ten miles the distant mesas are lined with modern, electricity generating windmills, hundreds of them, all turning slowly but powerfully.

The last ten miles of the day, of this phase of the trip, hey, I’m flying.  The crosswind has shifted to a definite tailwind.  It is a good feeling to cruise in the last few miles.  Betty has the RV packed and ready to roll as soon as I shower.

We now drive eastward on I-10.  It’s kind of sad to see the miles that I pedaled the past few days go by so quickly.  We will return in late March or early April 2007 to continue west to California then north to Canada.  Cheryl Self, owner of the Fort Stockton KOA offered us a free night’s stay when we return.  We look forward to it; this was a very friendly campground.

It has been a good trip.  We have learned a lot about long distance biking and how we like to approach it.  During the next several months we will tweak our equipment and vehicles, our future schedule and our plans.  We are thinking we will slow the pace to allow more time for seeing the areas we are passing through.  Already, the best memories of this trip are of the people we met, the friends we visited, the places we took time to explore and not how many miles we made each day nor how hard we pushed.  I guess that if the goal was to get there as quickly as possible we would not be biking.  I don’t remember who said this but it definitely applies.  “It’s the journey, not the destination”.

From Betty:

We thank all of you who have been following along on our journey.

And now, it’s back to Florida, then to Germany, then planning the next phase.

Merry Christmas and Love to you all from Chuck and Betty

Day 30-  1 Nov-  55 miles/1106 total miles:  to US-84 intersection with SR 21 near Frisco City

Lots of trucks drove around the convenience store/fuel station during the night.  However, we turned-in early and slept well, considering the activity.  We left the CRV at the station and drove the RV about 50 miles west then started our search for a new dry-camp location.  Several large parking areas join near the intersection of SR-21 with US-84.  We check with Nancy Tubberville, at Nancy’s Ranch House restaurant.  She walked outside with me to make certain I did not get on an adjacent area.  “That owner is a real heifer, had police run assistance vehicles off after Ivan”.

I left Betty and the two little dogs in the RV and started riding back east on US-84.  The morning was cool, clear and sunny.  We have had at least 5 great days in a row.  Some folks take advantage of the nice weather to pick up pecans that have fallen.  Sometimes it appears to be a paid work force of 10-20 people, other times it might be a family; kids with their mom and grandparents.  Some places they are in pecan groves but sometimes a lone lady is picking up under a tree or two in her front yard.  After the first hard frost, some of the groves use mechanical shakers that attach to the pecan tree trunk and vibrate until most of the pecans have fallen on to tarps that have been spread on the ground.

The town of Evergreen is about midway on today’s ride and it is lunch time and a Subway shop appears; how fortunate.  While eating, I notice a casual but neatly dressed black gentleman, a customer, fifty-ish, with a cell phone on his belt.  He smiled and spoke to every customer that entered, black or white.  He had short conversations with most of the men.  All of the women, from 18-80 gave him a hug, some stood with their arm around him for several minutes, he walked some to their car, opened their door and waved as they drove off.  A white police officer entered and the two men talked “Alabama football”.  Finally he took his bag of “subs”, said goodbye to each of the four ladies behind the counter and departed.  I had a window seat and saw him greet two more residents, then get in an older pick-up and drive away.  This guy had to be a local politician; election day is only 5 days away.  I think I was the only person in town that he did not know.

Early afternoon, 16 miles to go, bike seems sluggish, or maybe it’s me.  I stop to check, the front tire is very soft.  When I start to add air I notice the valve stem is broken and air is slowly leaking.  Maybe I can pump it up enough to get me back to the car.  No such luck, as soon as I touch the valve stem all the air hisses out.  The good news is that I carry a spare tube.  The bad news is my little plastic air pump can only get a few pounds of pressure in it.  After an hour of doing battle with the tire, pump and tube, I decide that half-flat is better than walking.  The next 16 miles were like carrying two sandbags.  The hills were especially punishing, each one reminding me to get a better air pump.

At last, the car, a quart of PowerAde and I am driving back west to meet Betty at the RV.

Trucks have now invaded this dry-camp.  Some are so close we don’t dare put the slides out, a driver might damage them if he does not pull out exactly straight.  We go to an “Old Mexico” restaurant.  The food is super, but, still no Margaritas nor Corona.  Outdated liquor laws strike again.

            Passing Observation:  Every year it seems there are more women truck drivers.

Day 31-  2 Nov-  57 miles/1163 total miles:  to Tombigbee Campground

Windy, overcast, misting and cold, not a good day for man nor beast to be out.  The first order of business is to repair that tire I limped in on yesterday.  Amazing how well a “good” tire pump works.  Even though it is a good tube, it is not a “thorn resistant” tube, so off with it.  First, this thin little tire gets a “Tuffy” liner.  It is a long strip of tough material molded to fit inside the tire, between the tire and the tube.  Next, the thick, heavy rubber tube is stiffed in, between the wheel and the liner.  That’s a lot of stuff in a small space.  Raw wind and cold hands don’t make the job any easier.  But finally, with some verbal help it is all in.  The tire bead holds and it gets 110 pounds of air.  We are ready to roll.  All of our tires but one now have Tuffy liners and I think they all have thorn resistant tubes.  These thick tubes take 3 or 4 times as much space to store, so I carry the much smaller, conventional tube as an emergency spare.  It will fit in the small wedge pack under the bicycle seat.

We have breakfast at Nancy’s Ranch House restaurant and leave the CRV in the parking lot as we drive the RV west to the Tombigbee Campground near Coffeeville, AL.  The campground is beautiful, it is a Corps of Engineer facility in a wooded area right on theTombigbeeRiver.  The autumn colors and river traffic, mostly barges, just a couple of hundred feet away, make this a very picturesque site.

After a quick lunch, I start biking back east to the car at Nancy’s Ranch House.  It is still cool but the sun is now our and the north wind makes for annoying crosswind gusts.  And, the hills!  They seem endless.  Across the Alabama River and more hills, plus a 17 mile stretch of highway with no shoulder at all.  Some traffic slows or waits behind me for oncoming vehicles to clear, but not the logging trucks.  These guys must get paid by the number of trips they make.  Every few minutes a couple of them barrel past.  If I see that a trick behind me will pass at the same time as an oncoming truck, I ride off onto the roadside to an immediate stop in the weeds or dirt.

Whew!  Glad, that is behind me.  The 18 inches of shoulder to the right of the white line is a welcome site, even if it is deeply serrated.  Now to avoid simultaneously meeting and passing trucks, I can ride on the serration for a few bumpity moments, then ease right back onto the roadway.

The sun is getting low and I like to be off the road by 5pm, it will be dark by 5:30.  The red flashing light behind the bike seat really shows well in the dimming daylight.

Ahh, Nancy’s Ranch House, a 57 mile drive back to Betty and a crockpot full of BBQ ribs and a glass of red wine.  Smiles!!!

Day 32-  3 Nov-  62 miles/1225 total miles: to Laurel, MS

What a great campsite:  wooded area, autumn colors, on the river!

Betty starts driving the RV, with car in tow, to Laurel, MS, about 60 miles west.  I will follow on the bike. 

About 10 miles down the road, I see an interesting little gas station and stoop.  It is more like a gas station or oil station was 50 years ago, not today’s convenience store with pumps.  I open a bottle of GatorAde and realize my little travel wallet was in a pouch on my bike.  When I told the lady behind the counter that I had forgotten my money, she said “Don’t worry about it”.  I brought the money in and paid up.  Then had a delightful talk with Karen and her mother Kathleen.  They ask about the bike trip and told me that Karen’s dad, Jack, was section hiking the Appalachian Trail a few weeks every summer.  Also he’s a pilot and has a small plane, spent 3 weeks camping alone in Alaska a couple of years ago and he is 74 years old.

About 5 miles along the way, a doe trots across the road in front of me as I coast down a hill.  I watch her disappear in the brush.  Surprise!  An 8 point buck is now directly in front of me and only about 20 feet away.  At the noise of my brakes, he darted quickly out of sight.

“Welcome to Mississippi” almost immediately a sign “Road Work Next Ten Miles”.  A new 4 lane expressway is being built near the existing narrow 2 laner.  No shoulders and steep drops along much of the hiway make this the most treacherous road yet.  As I neared the top of a hill, a pick-up behind me slowed to allow me to get around the curve at the crest.  Suddenly, a car came around the corner toward me – in my lane.  I instantly veered off the road, down the bank and into the ditch.  The driver behind me jumped out yelling at the old guy in the car who never looked back.  Rob, the pick-up driver checked to see if I was alright then got on his cell phone as he checked the precarious position of his truck on the steep embankment.  He told me he was an off-duty deputy and had called to have the errant driver intercepted.  Rob said that I might have saved him from a head-on collision.  If he had not slowed behind me, he would have been right on the curve when the old guy came around in the wrong lane.

Most of the next 35 miles were on a much better road and uneventful.  Betty had found a campground called Sleepy Hollow.  All is well that ends well.

From Betty: I had my own bit of excitement.  I was driving the RV towing the car on that same stretch of Mississippi 2 lane, no shoulder road.  I was meeting an oversize load and tried to give the guy as much room as possible and managed to get the front right tire of the RV off the road.  The RV fishtailed as I tried to get it back up the lip and onto the road.  I managed, but shook for about an hour after that little mishap.  Then, same narrow road going up a hill, a pick-up truck passes me going uphill.  There wasn’t oncoming traffic, however if there had been it would have been a bad accident.  As I entered Laurel, I needed to get on I-59 and take it north to Highway 11 and on to the campground.  I could see the sign for I-59 and got in the right lane, then at the last minute saw 59 North going off to the left – so I headed straight and soon was at a T- intersection.  Turned right, looking for a place to get turned around.  I finally spotted what used to be a gas station, but the pumps had been removed and it was now Dian’s Crown and Glory Salon.  Once I got pulled into the parking area I realized I couldn’t make the U-turn – too tight.  I went inside and was met by a nice young lady.  I asked if I could unhook and get the RV turned around using some of their space.  She said “You’ll have to talk with my mama, and she’s driving in right now”.  I went back outside to see this woman looking at the RV like “What in the world?”  I explained the situation and she said, “Honey, where are you trying to go?”  I explained I wanted to turn around and get back on I-59 heading north to Highway 11 and to a campground.  She said, “You’re more than welcome to unhook and turn around, but if you just continue straight ahead on this road (Susan B. Anthony), it becomes Highway 11 and I know the campground you’re trying to get to – it’s straight up the road”.  Wow!! What a relief!  On I went and sure enough – there it was.  That was enough for one day! 

We’ve now re-evaluated and decided to head a little more south.  There are a few factors that helped make this decision.  We can tell from the map that Highway 84 continues to be narrow for much of the route.  We know there’s lots of logging traffic in this area and a lot more hills.  If we get a little further south, we may get out of some of the logging traffic, it may be a little warmer and we may have flatter terrain as well as better road conditions.  We’ll see.  

Day 33-  4 Nov-  37 miles/1262 total miles:  to Hattiesburg, MS

Another cool morning, frost was forecast, but it didn’t happen here.  Sunny, no wind, only a few hills and light traffic, it is a joy to be biking.

After yesterday’s experiences with US-84, Betty and I decided to alter our route.  We will go south about 75 miles and take SR-10 west through Bogalusa, LA and toward Austin, TX.  This plan will intercept the route charted by Adventure Cycling.  Some cyclist avoid their recommendations because they zig-zag a lot and take many back roads that are not on a lot of maps.  We will try some of their recommended route and see how we like it then do as we wish.  Maybe the back roads will be more to Betty’s liking.  She does not like biking in traffic or on hiways unless there is a protected bike trail or lane.  Actually, that’s pretty smart.

Not only did we decide to change our route but we also agreed to lower the daily mileage so we have more time to enjoy and explore the areas we are passing through.  Today was an easy day of biking.  We kept the RV at Sleepy Hollow campground just north of Laurel, MS.  Betty drove the CRV down I-59 to pick me up in Hattiesburg, MS.

After cleaning up, we went to the local mall, then to a Street Fest with Soul Music in downtown Laurel.  We ate at an Old Mexico restaurant.  This one promised the best Margaritas in town.  They were good, so were the Coronas.

Passing Observations:  The #1 roadkill victim in Alabama and SE Mississippi is:  Opossum and a distant second is Armadillo.

Day 34-  5 Nov-  32 miles/1294 total miles:  toPoplarville,MS

Cool morning and sunny day, Betty dropped me and my bike at Hattiesburg, MS then drove south in the RV towing the car to Poplarville, MS to find a place to dry camp.

As I pedal south out of Hattiesburg on US-11, I see a sign about theUniversity of Southern Mississippi.  In the summer of 1977, I spent two weeks on the USM campus at a US Army Reserve seminar course as part of the Command and General Staff College.  Good memories.

Lunch in Purvis, a quart of GatorAde in Lumberton and viola; I am in Poplarville.  Betty has set up the rig on the hardstand behind a Conoco Station.  We could not find anyone to ask for permission; it is Sunday and this truck-stop is closed.  Later a sheriff’s car pulled up and asked if we needed assistance, he said it should be alright to park here for the night.

Day 35-  6 Nov-  25 miles/1319 total miles: toBogalusa,LA

After breakfast at the Conoco’s grill, we asked the manager if we could leave the RV parked here until this afternoon.  No problem.

Betty and I drove to Bogalusa, Louisiana and found an American Legion Post that agreed to let us leave the car while we biked back to Poplarville and also to park the RV for the night.

Today we tried a different approach to biking.  We followed the detailed directions provided by the Adventure Cyclist route planner.  It led us on back roads through the Mississippi country side.  It was great, very refreshing, we slowly meandered by manicured farms, junked yards, woods doublewides and “neat as a pin” country homes.  Right on Buck Branch School Road, one miles left on Humphrey Road, tow miles right on unsigned Old Camp Road, 2 ½ miles left on Archie Wheat Road, 1 ½ miles right at “T” on Holden Road, 4 miles continue on Homer Ladner Road, one mile right on White Sand Road and so it went winding our way back to Poplarville on back roads.  All the roads were paved and only occasionally did a vehicle pass.  Most drivers waved and passed at a slow speed.  We really enjoyed the ride.  Betty grimaced a little on a couple of the hills but even the rain during the last few miles did not dampen our spirits.  The back road route was 25 miles while SR-26 was only 21 miles but the extra 4 miles were well worth the effort.  SR-26 is a busy two lane hi-way with no shoulders and lots of logging trucks.

We had a burger at the Conoco Station and drove the RV to the American Legion compound inBogalusa,LA.  This Legion Post has over 400 members; it has two large buildings and a large fenced area for outdoor festivities or ceremonies.

The rainfall has increased and may continue through the night, we are comfortably warm and dry in the Legion parking lot watching the rain as we catch up on some paperwork.

Passing Observation:  The roadsides of Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi all seem to be much cleaner than I remember them eleven years ago on the horseback ride.

From Betty: It was a great day.  Even with the rain at the end and we were soaked, but the rain and weather were warm enough that it was not unpleasant.  The route was wonderful.  Great back roads.  We saw the most unusual squirrel.  It had a red tail, brownish gray body and black face.  We think we’ve seen it before in our mammal’s book, but don’t have a book along to look it up.  Chuck thinks he remembers it being called “Sherman’s Squirrel”.  We’ll have to check it out.

Day 36-  7 Nov-  49 miles/1368 total miles:  to Tangipahoa, LA

The rain stopped before dawn, it is a cool overcast morning.  While we were packing up, a pick-up truck had parked in front of the Legion buildings.  Just before we left, James Hall stepped outside.  I introduced him to Betty and she took a picture of James in front of their grand hall.  We all chatted about how their Post could afford such elaborate facilities.  James said they had received some very generous donations and that they hosted Bingo every Thursday night and opened it to the public, a big money maker.

Betty took our dogs back to the RV and James showed me through their main hall.  It is a huge beautiful building with a covered drive-thru entrance, large tiled latrines and a hall that will seat over 500 people.  Plus there was an appropriately sized kitchen, a bar, storage room with coolers and an oversized garage housing their own new van.  Outback was a separate garage for their parade floats.

Alongside the main building was the “Old Hall”.  This 99 year old structure has been completely renovated and is used for community meetings.  The Legion board met there last night, the DAV and other organizations meet there regularly.  Today the main hall will be used by “ducks Unlimited” for their annual dinner and auction.  It is an impressive operation.

We thanked James for their generosity and I pedaled off with Betty driving out behind me.  A couple minutes later she blew by me on her way to a campsite near Amite, LA.

Cool turns to chilly as I pick up speed.  What was comfortable standing still is a lesson in “wind-chill” at 15-20 mph.  Trying to generate some body heat, I pedal harder.  This makes me go faster and the wind-chill is more intense; this doesn’t seem to be working like it should??  For the past several days I have been wearing a long-sleeved synthetic tee-shirt and one of our logo short-sleeved tee-shirts on top of it.  If it warms up enough during the day, I remove the long-sleeved shirt.  Since my legs get a good workout they don’t seem to get cold, so I continue to wear biking shorts with loose nylon workout shorts over them.

Again today, I am following the route recommended by Adventure Cyclist magazine’s staff.  Peaceful, paved county roads with little traffic.  We continue to be in rural areas with farms that raise mostly cattle.  Between the farms there is a lot of commercial pine.  Pine forests in various states of growth often line the road for miles.  Some areas have been freshly clear-cut, some areas are full of seedlings only a year or two old and some are tall stands of timber ready for harvest.  Gates, often closed and locked, are at the entrance to numerous unpaved side roads leading into the pine forests.  These clay roads are used to manage and log the timber and to help with fire control.

The sun is trying to break through the overcast, it is warming.  The town ofFranklintonhas a Burger King – great it is lunchtime.  Geez, with their AC and ceiling fans it is cooler inside than out.  I wolf down a “Big Fish” sandwich and get back on the bike to warm-up.  Should have waited for the Golden Arches.

Ahh, now it is mostly sunny, country roads, rolling hills; just great.  As a general rule I try to take a short break about every ten miles.  This gives me time for a drink from a water bottle, a little stretching and lets the blood fully re-circulate to all body parts.  The neck, seat and hands are most affected; in that order.  Different riding positions help some but the ten mile breaks are always welcome.

I’m a little fussy about where I stop for a break.  A good place is remote, away from houses, barns and barking guard dogs, preferably at the top of a hill or knoll for an easy restart, and in the sun when it is cool, shade when warm.  Also I like a grassy spot on a slope so I lie back in the sunshine and absorb the countryside all around.  My bike doesn’t have a kick stand so I have to either lay it on the ground or, better, lean it against a tree, sign or post.

Today, my bike is on its side in the weeds and I’m soaking up the sunshine and sipping on some Gatorade.  A pick-up truck stops and the driver asks if I’m OK.  We talk for a minute and he goes on his way.  He said if I need anything, he just lives over the next hill and would be pleased to help.

Hey, hey, hey, here I am in Tangipahoa.  Betty arrives before I am off the bike, good timing.

She has parked the RV at a large campground a few miles south near a Casino.  It is a really nice, well maintained campground with hundreds of sites around a lake. 

A crock-pot full of Meatloaf tops off a great day.

Day 37-  8 Nov-  45 miles/1413 total miles:  to Jackson, LA

Betty dropped me in Tangipahoa.  I decided to deviate from the Adventure Cyclist recommended route.  I went 5 miles south on US-51 then west on SR-10.  It started as a pretty good road but narrow shoulders, then the shoulders widened to a 12ft safety lane, great.  The next 30 miles were smooth, no need to worry about traffic with such a wide safety lane.  Gentle hills, slight head wind but good riding.  During this time Betty drove by me with the RV towing the CRV.  She stopped to see how I was doing. 

There were few towns and they were small with few stores.  At a wide spot, called Darlington was a general store of sorts.  It had gas pumps with grocery/convenience items inside.  It was past noon and I stopped to get some lunch.  A young oriental couple were embracing behind the counter, I was the only customer.  The thirtyish guy greeted me and asked what I was doing on the bike.  He was Vietnamese but had lived in the US most of his life.  Just seven weeks ago, he went to Vietnam to bring back his wife and their two year old daughter.  I had not seen the little girl quietly playing behind the counter.  We talked a lot about Vietnam, Nick Tran was from Vung Tau.  I told him I had been there several times.  It is a beautiful seaside town with major French influence, it’s about 50 miles (I think) east ofSaigon.  Nick insisted that I must revisit Vietnam.  He said it is beautiful, peaceful, and cheap and has become very international with Europeans, Soviets, Chinese, etc.  OK, Don Johnson, this may be our next joint adventure – get ready.

Nick’s wife, Mymy (Meme) spoke almost no English, both she and his daughter Y (e) were strikingly beautiful.  The assortment of foods there was a bit different, since I don’t carry a can opener, I ended up with an “easy open” can of sardines and some crackers.  I ate outside then went back in to get a picture of the three of them.

An interesting note is that while all of this was going on many “elderly” customers came and went.  The most common purchase was two dollars worth of gas and two large cans of cold beer.

Now back on the road with my mind in Vietnam.  The hills and miles slowly glided by as I thought of times past.  Hey, I know that car on the side of the road; it is Betty in our CRV.  She informed me that the next 8.5 miles to Jacksonwere a bit of hell.  She was right, there were no shoulders, road ruts were sometimes over 10 inches deep, badly patched lumpy asphalt and pot holes over a foot deep that could easily topple a bike or bend a wheel.  This kind of excitement we can do without.   Traffic behind me just had to wait for oncoming vehicles to clear before they could pass me.  When possible, I got off to the side and stopped to let vehicles get by me.  When that was not feasible, I just pedaled harder to get over a hill or around a curve so they could see ahead and pass me.  The time goes fast because the mind is on constant alert.  Not soon enough, I was inJackson,LA and saw where Betty had parked the rig at the local VFW.  We decided to recon the route ahead in the CRV and ended up having a beer at the VFW and spending the night in their parking lot.

This is such an interesting area that we plan to have a “short” day tomorrow and investigate some of the local historic spots.  The next town west is St. Francisville, it is on theMississippi Riverand is rich in pre-civil war history.  Oh yes, our route, SR-10, stops at the river and a ferry takes vehicles across – bikes too.

From Betty:  It was a road from hell – in the RV, too.  My knuckles were white by the time I got to Jackson. 

Day 38-  9 Nov-  14 miles/1427 total miles: to St. Francisville, LA

It was a quiet night in the VFW parking lot.  This morning, we packed up and I saw a car in front of the VFW entrance.  Just before we departed I went inside to thank them for allowing us to stay the night.  Helen Rollins was inside; she said Betty had talked with her daughter yesterday.  Helen is a few years older than us and has a quick wit.  She said she likes our RV and if she could win the lottery she would buy the best one she could find and hire a good looking young guy to drive her all over this great country.  She hoped we had a safe journey and I wished her luck on the lottery.

I pedaled from Jackson to St. Francisville while Betty drove the RV to Green Acres Campground just SE of St. Francisville.  She hooked up the RV and met me at the Magnolia Café for lunch.

At the campground we met our next door neighbors, Charlie and Linda Stroud.  Until a couple months ago they lived about 2 miles from here.  Now they have sold their home and are traveling in an RV.  They just returned from several weeks in the Northwest.  We immediately discovered we have a lot in common with them: retired Army, RVing, spontaneity, etc.

We spent the afternoon at the local museum then on to a nearby plantation that has been restored.  Rosedown was built in 1830 and was restored in the 1950s; a beautiful peaceful place.

Back at the campground we sat outside the Stroud’s RV chatting with them about travel dreams while having some good spirits.  At their recommendation, we had dinner at Varnedoe’s Carriage House, a part of the Myrtle’sPlantation.  An ideal setting and a great meal.

During dinner, we got to know the folks at the table next to us.  Dick Carrere is from New Orleans and Susan Bond lives in Dallas.  Conversation revealed that Dick’s college roommate was Andy Lorentzen from Naples,FL.  I told him that I was several years older than Andy and did not know him well, but that his dad, Coach Lorentzen, had been one of my high school teachers; trig, advanced algebra and solid geometry.

It was an interesting day; a little riding, a little history, a little culture and a lot of fun.

Passing Observation:  At the St. Francisville museum we learned that this area was once part ofFlorida; they fought for and won their independence in 1810, fromSpainto become the “RepublicofWest Florida” for 74 days before being annexed into theUnited States.  Now, I find it a little frustrating that we have biked 1427 miles and are still in what wasFlorida.

Day 39-  10 Nov-  9 miles/1436 total miles:  to New Roads, LA

The day got off to a slow start.  We took advantage of the wireless internet provided here at Green Acres Campground.  Both of us went through our email backlog, I had 163, mostly unsolicited junk.  Also, Betty searched for the best deal on a flight to Germany.  We want to spend the holiday with Suz, EJ and the kids who are now living in Wiesbaden,Germany (near Frankfurt).

We had a long friendly visit with our new friends, the Strouds.  They will be going to Key West in a couple of weeks and we tried to plan a rendezvous. 

OK the riding plan today is:  1.  Leave the CRV in downtown St. Francisville.  2.  Take the RV, with bikes, across the Mississippi River on the ferry, find a place about 10 miles away to leave it.  3.  Bike back, crossing on the ferry, to St. Francisville.  4.  Load the bikes on the CRV, cross on the ferry, one last time, and link-up with the RV.  5.  I would get on the road bike and continue riding while Betty drives ahead 20-30 miles to find a site for the night.

A busy plan, a late start, a wonderful day, lots to enjoy.  Good news, the ferry can take vehicles up to 51 feet long, great, we are only 40 feet long.  Oops, not good, the ferry can only take one large vehicle per crossing and a semi-trailer is in front of us.  The schedule is departures from the east side on the hour and half-hour.  We wait.  The ferry can accommodate about 20 cars and pick-ups then they ark one long vehicle crosswise so it drives on last and drives straight off first.

On the west side of the river is New Roads, LA, a nice town, but distinctly different from Louisiana towns we have been traveling through.  They tell us we have just entered “Cajun Country”, west of the Mississippi and south through Baton Rouge to New Orleans.  We leave the RV in a WalMart parking lot and start biking back to St. Francisville.  The ride along the river is quite pretty.  On a long isolated stretch paralleling the levee, Betty borrows the camera to get some pictures.  As we bike down the road at a leisurely pace, I ride up alongside Betty and reach for the camera to put it back in its case.  OH NO!!  The handle bars get hooked and we are instantly in a pile in the middle of the road.  We hit hard, limbs and bikes are in a tangled heap.  We ask each other if we’re OK, neither of us knows.  It is a struggle to take a “self-inventory”, get untangled and move off the road before any traffic appears.  Apparently, no broken bones but lots of aches, cramps and bruises.  Our heads had not hit the pavement, we are lucky.  However, the left crank, on my bike, (one of two rotating arms that hold the pedals) is bent so badly it won’t turn by the frame.  With the bike on it’s’ side, I stand on the frame and pull on the pedal and crank.  It only moves enough to allow it to scrape by on each rotation.  Good we can limp (ride) back to the car.  Probably the most costly damage is to our little digital Nikon camera.  It banged hard on the pavement bending the box open exposing lots of electronic parts – not good. 

As I was trying to torque the bike back into shape, a pick-up pulling a nice little boat on a trailer, pulls alongside.  Jim Scott asks if we are alright and offers to help.  He had passed as we were leaving the road, turned around and came back to help.  Assured that we are ambulatory, he again turns around and passes us on his way to the ferry.

We ride the bikes onto the ferry and I find Jim to thank him.  Both Jim and a friend he is talking with are bikers, they offer to help fix the bike but I tell them I have a spare.

Back in St.Francisville, we load the bikes on the CRV, cross on the ferry (by now we know the crew) and return to the RV.  We decide our biking is done for the day.  A hot shower and a cold beer seem to be the recommended treatment.  Wow, the shower water finds crapes I didn’t know I had.  We are parked with a view of the River out one side of the RV and a view of WalMart out the other side.  We turn on the generator, raise the antennae and watch “Vanished” before zonking.  A nine mile day, this may be a new record.

Day 40-  11 Nov-  45 miles/1481 total miles:  to Opelousas, LA

It rained during the night and by morning the temperature had dropped into the thirties with a cold NW wind under overcast skies.  We both felt pretty good considering our spill yesterday.  Betty had an abrasion on her left calf and her left hand was stiff.  I had abrasions on all the typical spots for a bike wreck: left hand, elbow, thigh and calf.  Fortunately, all wounds seemed to be only superficial and none had a lot of gravel or dirt ground into them; just good clean road rash.

It is Veterans Day; Betty gets me outfitted with a small flag to fly behind the seat of my bike.  She has flags ready to fly from the RV and the car as soon as she parks.  The cooler weather begs for more clothes.  A long sleeved synthetic covered with a tee-shirt still lets the wind cut through on my arms.  Only one-half miles and I stop to pull on my “sleeves” these little lightweight extenders are for tee-shirts, they cover from shoulder to wrist.  A quartering tail wind helps me spin along southward on SR-1.  No shoulder but light traffic, cool wind behind me, I fly along easily at 20 (plus) mph.  Soon I come to US-190, due west, ahh-ohh, a quartering headwind.  A wide, sometimes cracked and rough safety lane help me avoid the heavier traffic on this four-lane highway.  The sun starts peeking through, even with the cool temp and headwind it is a good day; still making about 14-16 mph.

It is past noon, lunchtime, a gas station/grocery/restaurant lures me to the side.  The work “Restaurant” on the sign is a bit of a stretch.  Already prepared food is behind a glass counter for take-out.  Corn-dogs, wings, cracklins and boudin balls.  The cook is refilling one of the trays of food.  She tells me that Boudin (pronounced “boo-dan”) balls are a mixture of ground pork, rice, green onions and spices rolled into the size of a baseball, covered with some kind of flour mix and deep-fat fried.  I try one.  They are great, a little like stuffed green peppers but spicier.

Back on the road, Betty calls to tell me that the Opelousas City campground we had planned to stay in was not very “RV friendly”.  Rutted, soft ground, a lack of facilities and Saturday parties made her reconsider.  She had found a vacant lot along Main Street, just two blocks off US-190, to park the rig and wait for me.

A quick look, when I arrive, and we agree to stay right where she had been waiting.  There is a boarded up building back of us, main street in front and businesses closed for the weekend on the sides.  We park the car with Betty’s bike and my “good” road bike in front of the RV.  My “injured” hybrid bike is on a bike rack on the back of the RV.  All the bikes and racks are locked onto the respective vehicles.  Street lights are located on the left front and back.

TV reception on our little antennae is perfect.  While I shower, Betty finds the Florida vs South Carolina game; it is in the first quarter.  It is interesting to see Steve Spurrier, back in “the Swamp”, working desperately hard to keep the Gators out of the contention for the National Title.  He worked hard for 12 years for the to win that prize.  In 1996 he ledFloridato their only National Championship.  Today, the Gators played poorly and only won by a fluke (or more appropriately, “a finger”) in the last second of the game.  A winning South Carolina field goal kick was deflected by a 6’5” Gator, and the game was over 17-16.  Ahh, life is good; exercise, fresh air, beer, popcorn, alma mater team wins, warm rig, red beans and rice, and loving wife.

Day 41-  12 Nov-  46 miles/1527 total miles: to Kinder, LA

It is a little after 2am, Betty wakes me saying that someone is trying to get the bike (the damaged one) off the back of the RV.  I hear the banging and clatter.  On with the pants, I quickly turn on an outside light and loudly bang the door, then continue to dress and grab a gun.  I ease outside and am surprised to find the sole perpetrator still wrestling with the locked bike.  About 10 feet from him, I say “Hi There”.  A young, black male, about 6’2” takes flight.  He looks back, sees the gun, and yells “Don’t shoot man, don’t, I’m sorry, don’t, I’m sorry, don’t, don’t”.  He disappears around a building and into the darkness.  He would have been an easy target, running under several street lights at such close range, but we still have the bike and he had a good scare.  I considered firing a shot into the air but thought better of it.  We are in the middle of town and hopefully he has learned a good lesson.  Betty was able to watch the “drama” unfold.  The street light cast shadows that she could see from the bedroom window of the RV.

I check the bike, the lock is still secure but some of the web straps have been cut.  The bikes on the car seem undisturbed.  Several times during the next couple of hours, Betty does a 360 degree window check and I go on patrol outside.  All’s well, when we finally get to sleep, we sleep deep.

It is Sunday morning, Betty said there was a Presbyterian Church just beyond the house next to us.  We work on the journal and other “administrivia” until the services start at 10:45am.  It is a friendly congregation and we meet several interesting people.  As everyone was gathering, Jan Artigue, the church pianist, immediately identifies us as newcomers, and extends a warm welcome to us.  Jon Sonbuchner is also a biker and has taken some exciting trips.  He told us about biking in Sierra Nevada mountains – all the way up to Touloome Meadows.  I asked him to join us today but he would be attending a funeral this afternoon.  He will stay in touch, maybe next spring he can join us in California.  Betty met Tom Billiodeaux, they had a lengthy discussion about Cajun cooking.  He invited us to a lunch of gumbo, that would have been interesting but we still had 40 “miles to go before we sleep”.  Tom said he would send Betty some recipes for Cajun dishes.  The minister and his wife, John and Lydia Uhl, reminded me a bit of our experiences.  They had lived in Columbia,SC while he was in Seminary; Betty and I met in Columbia when I was a Second Lieutenant.  He was a student minister at little country churches.  I grew up going to a little country church with a succession of student ministers.  They, like us, are subject to be assigned to strange, far away and exciting places.  They have been in Opelousas two years and are adjusting to new customs and traditions as they raise four active kids, seven weeks to maybe 12 years.  Nice folks.

It is nearly 2pm by the time we get changed and in the “travel mode”.  No wind, flat roads with a wide safety lane (most of the time).  The miles fly by as I maintain a moderate but steady pace.  This flat country has both sugar cane and rice fields along the road.  Betty drives ahead to Quiet Oaks Campground about 5 miles south of Kinder, LA.  We will meet in Kinder at about 5pm.  If I have not arrived by then, Betty will drive east on US-190 and pick me up before dark- hopefully.

We meet at 4:55pm, and then back to the RV.  While Betty walks the dogs, I shower and we are off to dinner.  We had seen Fausto’s Restaurant in Kinder and wanted to try some of their Cajun food.  It was great; we now have leftovers for tomorrow’s lunch.

Passing Observation:  The #1 roadkill victim has been changing; as we moved intoLouisiana, it was raccoon and now is a toss-up between turtle and bull-frogs.

 

Day 6- 1Oct06- 36mi/182 mi total: to Value Jet Memorial on US 41

Betty drove me to the start point behind the Homestead General Aviation Airport, HGAA, and I continued biking on the trail along the C111 Canal.  A few miles north of the HGAA the trail crosses a paved road; I think it is Grossman Drive or maybe SW 184^th St. (Eureka Drive).  Just north of this road, at a flood control station, the trail continues on top of the L31N levee.

While bumping along this part I came across two men installing electronic measuring equipment at a gaging station about 4 miles south of US 41.  One of the men was with South Florida Water Management District and the other a specialist from Idaho contracted to install metering equipment in monitoring wells.  They are tracking the underground flow of water at different depths.  It was interesting that water is flowing eastward from the Everglades eat the rate of hundreds of feet per day.  They measure at four levels between 15 feet and 165 feet below the surface.  These guys were experts in their field and spent about a half hour explaining how water moves from the Everglades to the wells and canals of the Miami area.  They had computer monitors in their van with real time flow data and they said this same info could be accessed from the Internet.  I have since misplaced their business cards but I believe their names are Steve and Jim.  Thanks guys.

Betty met me at US 41.  We drove west to an airboat concession near the Value Jet Memorial and obtained permission to leave the CRV overnight.  It was an enjoyable bike ride along the canal and back to the Casino.  The canal runs parallel to US 41 with a single lane gravel trail on top of the levee and a gravel road down along the canal.  The view from the top of the levee was good; miles and miles of everglades.  While on the levee we saw a black fox.  I saw a similar fox when I hiked this portion seven years ago.  I think I found then that this is the black phase of what is really a red fox.

Soon we were back at the Casino and had dinner in their “Café Hammock”. 

Day 7- 2 Oct- 52 mi/244 miles total: to SR 29 (Everglades Turnoff) via Loop Rd and Monroe Station

The CRV made it through the night without incident.  The Airboat rental concession was right on US 41 and unlighted but it is on the Miccosukee Indian Reservation and well patrolled.  The first 11 miles were on US 41.  There was no canal road but there was a wide shoulder; an easy ride on the road bike.

Betty met me at the start of Loop Road(40 mile bend).  I switched to the hybrid and took Loop Road(24 miles) through beautiful everglades and cypress swamp.  Saw lotsa gators and wading birds.  The shell surfaced road is in much better condition than a few years ago.  Dodging large water filled pot holes and the great scenery made it a very enjoyable ride.  Plus, I passed the southern terminus of the Florida Trail (FT).  On 28 December 1999, my son-in-law, EJ O’Brien dropped me off here to start hiking the FT.  Two months and 1160 miles later I finished the FT at the Alabama border north of Pensacola.  I like hiking but the miles sure go by faster and more smoothly on a bike.

Betty was waiting, with the RV, at Monroe Station.  We had planned to spend the night at this remote abandoned roadhouse.  After resting a couple of hours, I decided to ride the road bike west on US41 to SR-29, the turn off to Everglades City.  We spent the night on the gravel extension to the gas station.

Day 8- 3Oct- 47 miles/281 miles total: to Naples FL

This was an uneventful ride along US41, through East Naples, down 5^th Avenue in Naples, right at the beach and north through Park Shore, Pelican Bay and Vanderbilt. 

 

Day 9- 9 Oct- 17 miles/298 total miles: to Ft. Myers Beach with Betty, Beth and Brenda

It is a beautiful Sunday morning and our FTA friends, Beth Kelso and Brenda Carneri meet Betty and I at the north end of Vanderbilt Beach.  We decided to drive to Ft.Myers Beach, leave the CRV there overnight and bike back to Vanderbilt.  This was a fun ride through Lovers Key State park, over bridges on Estero Bay and along Bonita Beach.  We stopped at the Fish House on Bonita Beach Road for a relaxing lunch then an easy ride on to Vanderbilt.

Betty and I appreciated our friends taking the time to share a part of our long journey with us.  We had a good time.

Day 10- 10 Oct- 48 miles/346 total miles: to Punta Gorda

We drove the RV to the new Cross Trails Shopping Center in Punta Gorda and I biked back to Ft. Myers Beach to the CRV we had left the day prior.  I was concerned about the lack of a bike lane or shoulder along Burnt Store Road so I rode the hybrid.  If traffic was really bad, I could ride in the weeds or ditch.  The traffic was bad.  This two lane road had a good shoulder along much of it but for over 7 miles there was not an inch of shoulder.  There was a lot of heavy truck traffic but the large vehicles, especially the dump trucks waited for a break in the oncoming traffic flow to dart around me.  Most cars passed about a foot or two from me in the face of oncoming traffic.  Twice, cars coming from the opposite direction passed a string of vehicles and did not see me as they approached.  Both times I turned off the road and into the ditch.

As I entered the Cape Coral area, the shoulder got wider, then a separate bike path appeared and all was well.  At the south end of Ft. Myers Beach I found that the CRV was alive and well.  It was an exhilarating day that I will not soon forget.  Life is good!

Betty: While Chuck was busy biking I had a chance go get together with a good friend, Charlotte, who lives in Port Charlotte.  We enjoyed a wonderful lunch and conversation in a beautiful setting on the bay.  Charlotte and I went on a Baltic Cruise and Trans-Atlantic Crossing last year.

Day 11- 11 Oct- 50 miles/396 total miles: to Sarasota

While in Punta Gorda, the RV was parked a few hundred feet from the Acme Bike Shop.  Ed and Patrick passed along some good tips concerning long distant riding and local  routes.  On their shelves they had a set of SPD pedals that I had previously special ordered from Shimano only to find that they were temporarily “out of stock”.

US 41 between Punta Gorda and Sarasota was mostly in a string of towns.  Multiple lanes helped alleviate the lack of a bike lane.

We parked the RV adjacent to parking lots used by The Quay, now defunct.  We had dinner at an Italian restaurant across the street.

Day 12- 12 Oct- 49 miles/445 total miles: to South Tampa; US 41 & SR 60

An uninteresting day on the road bike; mostly on a bike lane along US 41.

We moved the RV to Lazy Days RV sales in preparation to swap it for a newer model.

Day 13- 13 Oct- 6 miles/451 total miles:  to Publix at Bayshore and Platt

After a lot of “RV paperwork”, I biked the 6 miles to a point along Bayshore Blvd.  This will enable us to ride the bayside recreational trail along side Bayshore Blvd tomorrow.

In the evening we met Beth Lawson and Bryant, friends we had met 6 years ago in Virginia while we were all hiking the Appalachian Trial.  Their trail names were “B&B”.  Like us, they were hiking the AT as part of the much longer Eastern Continental Trail.  We share a special bond with them and have had many good times since hiking the ECT.

We all had a great dinner at the Columbia Restaurant in Ybor City in Tampa.  Good food, good friends, flamenco dancers and two pitchers of Sangria tropical fruit drink all made for a wonderful evening.

 

Day 14- 14 Oct- 23 miles/473 total miles:  to CVS parking lot on Ulmerton in St. Pete

As planned, Betty and I met Beth Lawson near Bayshore Blvd.  I stayed with the 3 bikes while Betty and Beth positioned a car about 20 miles away and drove back in the other vehicle.

It was a beautiful bike ride along the Bayshore Blvd trail.  Saturday morning and walkers, runners, bikers and strollers were all enjoying the wide walkway along Bayshore.  After several miles, we turned right on Gandy Road.  The old Gandy bridge is now called the “Friendship Bridge” and is closed to motorized traffic.  We crossed Tampa Bay, from Tampa west to St. Pete.  It was pretty spectacular.

After a couple of cell calls Beth arranged for us to meet Bryant and their son Bryn for lunch at Spankys, a roadhouse that caters to bikers; we only saw the motorized type.  Little Bryn, about two years old, is a cute, active kid; very smart not much gets by without his notice.  An outdoor lunch and we were ready to bike.  Betty and Bryn would go to our end point in the car, while Beth, Bryant and I biked.  No more trails, we were back in traffic.  We set a quick pace for a bunch of “fat tire” bikers and soon we ended at the CVS parking lot.

Betty and I returned to Lazy Days to meet a friend from Naples.  Jim Goddard, a Naples High School classmate and long time friend was driving his RV to North Carolina and stopped to spend the evening with us.  Jim said the last time he was in Tampa was about 44 years ago and he had dinner at the Columbia restaurant.  It was quickly decided that we would go there again tonight.  We drove through downtown Tampa, along Bayshore and just rambled.  Then to a great dinner and lots of memories revisited.

Day 15- 17 Oct- 52 miles/525 total miles: to SR 52 on Sun Coast Trail

We took a couple of days off to complete our move into our new RV.  Actually, it is a used vehicle but “new” to us.  Late yesterday afternoon, we drove the RV north to the town of Holiday, just north of Tarpon Springs.  It was dark when we parked the RV and hooked up the utilities.

Now, Tuesday morning, we meet Beth Lawson at the CVS Pharmacy parking lot.  Bryant had to work and Bryn was in daycare.  Betty would take care of some chores and meet us at the end of our ride.

Three miles and Beth and I turned north on the Pinellas Trail.  It passed through many towns that have grown together.  Every quarter mile or so we came to a 4-way stop as the trail crossed local streets.  Through Largo, Clearwater and Dunedin.  In Tarpon Springs we turned east off the Pinellas Trail.  Some off road riding, about 10 miles of rural highway without shoulder and bike lane and we were ready for lunch.  Just as our bodies were running out of fuel, a Greek sandwich shop appeared.  Lots of Gator Aide and two huge sandwiches were wolfed down at a picnic table under gigantic live oak trees with Spanish moss hanging from every limb.

Rested, refreshed and refueled we knocked out three miles and turned north on the rural Sun Coast Trail.  A cell phone check with Betty and we decided to meet where the Sun Coast Trail crosses SR 52.

We loaded the bikes on the CRV and Betty drove back to Beth’s car.  It was a good day of biking with a good friend.

Not only is Beth Lawson a strong biker but she is also responsible for designing one of our websites.  She designed and managed the website for my Yukon River trip 3 years ago.  Thank You Beth!

Day 16- 18Oct- 45 miles/570 total miles:  to Crystal River

After breakfast we moved the RV to the Encore Campground west of Crystal River.  Betty drove this RV for the first time; she did well and felt comfortable with it.

It is a neat and spacious campground with lots of live oak trees draped with Spanish moss.  We hooked up the RV and had a quick lunch and we are off to the Sun Coast Trail.  This bike trail parallels the Sun Coast parkway for over 40 miles.  Betty dropped me and my bike at the point Beth Lawson and I stopped yesterday.  I will bike 26 miles to the north end of the Sun Coast Trail, go NW on SR 98 for 5 miles then 14 miles north on US 19 to Crystal River.  Betty will drive to the trail head at the north end of the Sun Coast Trail and bike south to meet me.  All goes well; we meet and bike back to the trailhead together.  Along the way we notice that the pancake flat terrain of South Florida is giving way to undulations (small hills).  This causes additional exertion, sweat, and benign panting but will help get the climbing muscles ready for more serious hills.  Each of us has a case for our cell phone strapped on our bike within easy reach.  On one hill, Betty’s sister Nancy called from Minnesota(on her way home from work).  Like a good sister she noted the labored breathing and quickly ended the call.  Somehow she never terminates the call due to heavy breathing when she calls late at night when we are home???

It was a hot humid afternoon, Betty had biked nearly 15 miles and drove off to get some groceries,  etc.  She really likes the bike trails but avoids riding with the traffic on streets and roads like the plague.

Now, the biking is done, showers enjoyed and happy hour is underway.

Day 17- 19 Oct- 49miles/619 total miles:  to Chiefland

Yeoooowww!  A car, only inches away, just whizzed by me at a high rate of speed while laying on the horn.  Guess he was trying to make sure I was alert and oriented; it worked.  Riding north on US 19, a 4-lane road with a wide median, there is no bike lane but very little traffic.  This highway is straight as a string.  I can see 5 miles ahead and 5 miles behind.  When I was hiking, these long straight stretches were a downer; boring hours on hot pavement.  Now, on a bike, the long straight miles slip by quickly, still a little boring but more fleeting than when hiking.

Lunch was at an old country/convenience store, one of two businesses at Otter Creek.  The gas pumps were all out of order.  I was soaked with sweat and hungry, four large dump trucks were parked outside.  I reasoned that local truck drivers would know where to get a good meal.  The owner, cook and cashier, Betty, served me the day’s special: a bar-b-q pork sandwich – great.  I washed it down with a 2 liter bottle of Pepsi, pouring the remainder into a water bottle for later.

The truck drivers soon departed and, while paying the bill, I explained that the last time I was in Otter Creek was 45 years ago.  As a student at U of F, I was hitch-hiking home with a friend.  It was cold and we desperately wanted a ride.  This pick-up truck stopped, the driver said one of us could ride in the cab with he and his wife and the other could ride in the back with the load of pigs.  I lost the coin toss and it was a cold, odious, 34 mile ride from Gainesville to Otter Creek.  Now, Betty, the cashier, gave me a strange look and said “Not much has changed”.  At first I thought she was referring to the town, later I suspected she might have meant the way I smelled both times (biker sweat profusely and are usually quite aromatic) or maybe she thought my life had not improved much in 45 years – once again in Otter Creek without a car.

Back on US 19 the miles were hot and long.  Chiefland would be a 50 miles ride for the day.  As I entered town, I saw a VFW club with several cars in the parking lot.  The thought of cold beer and air conditioning on a hot afternoon was too much.

A stranger really stands out in a small town establishment.  The questions started: who, what, why.  Soon I had a room full of new friends.  By chance, I chose a bar stool next to the Post Commander, Charley.  Jeanie was tending bar and found a cold beer for me.  Her mom, Betsy, quietly bought my second and Bruce, who was waiting for his girlfriend, Judy, got the third.  Jack Crowley, a navy vet, seated next to me, told me of an off-road bike trail for tomorrow’s ride.  Jack and Betty, a couple across the room, gave me some tips on routes to ride through Texas.

The Post Commander asked if three of us could help him on a project outside in the parking lot.  I thought we were going to ceremoniously retire the flag for the day.  But not, as a joke we bounced the rear of Judy’s small car around so it was sideways in the parking spot.  Back inside, I phoned my Betty to come rescue me.

Meanwhile, Betsy had called the Levy County Journal and staff.  Cassie Journigan arrived to do a story about our bike trip.  While chatting, Betty arrived and was immediately accepted by the group.  Cassie took us outside for some pictures with our bikes.

Inside, Rose and Judy returned from someplace, Joe and Kathy were preparing to depart, “Ace”, aka Dennis, arrived to help with tending bar and Wayne sat quietly at the corner of the bar.  After returning the favor to all my “drink donors”, Betty and I bid everyone farewell and drove back to the RV at Crystal River.

It seems that the best part of every trip we have taken has been the people.

 

Day 18- 20 Oct- 17 miles/636 total miles: Cross City to Tennille

There is a Rail-to-Trail bike path (Nature Coast Trail) leading north out of Chiefland to Cross City.  We decided not to ride that trail today, but will save it for tomorrow when Beth Kelso will join us.  Betty likes to ride on bike paths so all three of us will have 20 plus miles off of the highway.  Today, I will skip ahead and ride the 17 miles from Cross City to Tennille.  These miles went by quickly.

Betty drove the RV to the Chiefland RV Park and soon we were hooked-up and looking forward to the evening.  Rodger and Lynn Warren will be joining us for dinner.  They are good friends who were stationed with us in Germany in the ‘70s.  Last January Lynn and Rodger moved to Williston, which is less than 30 miles from here.

As the evening unfolded, Beth arrived at the Homestead Restaurant in Fanning Springs only minutes after Lynn, Rodger, Betty and I.  It was good to reminisce about the great times in Dexheim,Germany.  Beth was a good sport and acted as if we were not boring her.

We must be aging (not Beth, of course); there was no beer at the restaurant and we all headed for home by 10pm.

Day 19- 21 Oct- 25 miles/661 total miles:  Cross City to Chiefland

This morning as we loaded the bikes on Beth’s car, we met Mary Ruth and Loma, bikers from Citrus County.  They gave us lotsa tips on biking in this area; sensible advice, like don’t ride your road bike (thin tire) off the pavement because the abundance of sandspurs will cause flats.

Beth drove us to Cross City.  Velma, at a convenience store arranged with Teresa at the restaurant next door for us to park between the two buildings.  The three of us had a very pleasant 20 plus miles ride on the Nature Coast Trail.  We saw many other riders and a few walkers and runners on this paved trail.  When we crossed the Suwannee River on the old railroad trestle, we stopped to get some pictures and watch the river flow beneath the bridge.  Almost immediately, Beth spotted a huge fish that looked a lot like a Shark.  It must have been nearly 6 ft long; we suspected it was a large Sturgeon.  A walker approached and Bernice Harvey, a local resident, agreed that it was most likely a Sturgeon.  She told us a bit about the river and started walking back the way she came to meet her husband.

A group of riders from a Withlacoochee bicycle club stopped at the bridge.  One couple rode a tandem recumbent, they were an interesting couple.  Their accent hinted of England.

We stopped in Fanning Springs for Bar-B-Q pork sandwiches at Huckleberry’s.  Great!

Entering Chiefland, Betty stopped at the RV to walk the dogs.  Beth and I rode a mile or so farther to link-up with the point I had ridden to 2 days earlier, the VFW.  Inside we found Bruce, and others in the uniforms they had worn while marching in the Cedar Key parade earlier.  I showed Bruce my VFW membership card since he had vouched for me last Friday.  We had some lively conversation, filling them in on our recent progress.  We left before the drinks and more questions started flowing.

Back at the RV we all got cleaned up and drove to the Cedar Key Seafood Festival.  It had been about 48 years since I had been to Cedar Key.  We walked through this quaint town, checked out many of the craft vendors and returned to the RV.  It was a good day.

Day 20- 22 Oct- 25 miles/686 total miles:  to Perry

As we drove north on US 19, Beth got out in Cross City to retrieve her car which we left there yesterday morning.  She followed us to Tennille where she again left her car and rode on to Perry with us.  After a fruitless search of Perry for Nafee Campground we settled for the KOA.  We all had lunch and Beth and I biked back to her car in Tennille; it was a comfortably fast paced 25 miles.

With the bikes on Beth’s car we drove back to Perry.  Our plan was to have Betty drive us 10-15 miles north on US 221 and Beth and I would ride back to Perry.  A thunder storm changed our minds and we returned to the RV even before we had gotten out of Perry.  Beth showed us how to make “rum runners” out of common ingredients found in the kitchen; plus rum.

Day 21- 23 Oct- 54 miles/740 total miles: to Quitman, GA

We left Beth’s car at the KOA Campground in Perry,FL and drove the RV 54 miles to Quitman,GA.  We found an abandoned gas station near the city square to park the RV.  Betty stayed there with the two dogs while Beth and I pedaled back to Perry.  It was a cool morning and a brisk few miles until we got warmed up.  We were on Us 221, a beautiful route with a bike lane along most of it.  The rural countryside was picturesque; live oak trees, farms, cotton fields and little traffic.  Rolling hills and gentle curves kept the route interesting and enjoyable.  Beth set a comfortable pace and soon we were in Perry and still feeling good.  We loaded the bikes on her car and she drove us back to Quitman, it seemed like a long drive.

Betty had our little “dry camp” set-up, we showered and went to the Coyoacan Mexican Restaurant a couple of blocks away.  Back at the RV we turned the furnace on for the first time.  All us South Florida folks found the weather a little chilly.

Day 22- 24 Oct- 41 miles/781 total miles: to Moultrie, GA

It was cool again this morning, 35 degrees.  We packed up our little “dry camp” (meaning no RV hook-ups) and prepared to move the rig north to Tifton.  Beth made arrangements to leave her car parked at a fire station only half-a-block away.  Tifton is on I-75, about 20 miles east of our bike route, but, it has a campground with full hook-ups and it positions us to move to Cordele,GA the following day.

Our good friends, Marybeth and Clay Kelley have recently bought a home a few miles west of Cordele.  We are looking forward to spending a little time with them and maybe have them joining us for a few bike miles.  Clay was a supply officer at Camp Zama, Japan when we were stationed there 25 years ago.  We have kept in contact every since.

Betty dropped Beth and me north of Moultrie.  We would bike south to Quitman while Betty drove back to the RV in Tifton.  She wanted to do some special cooking and some cleaning in the RV.

The ride south on SR-133 then SR-333 was cool and hilly.  The first 20 miles went fast and almost effortlessly.  Somewhere along the way, it seemed the wind shifted from a quartering tailwind to a headwind and some of the hills got steeper.  We had large cotton fields all around us.  It is harvest time and many of the fields were white as snow waiting to be picked.  The mechanical pickers looked much like self-propelled corn pickers with pointed chutes to pick 4 rows at a time.

Mid-afternoon we arrived in Quitman and were greeted by three firemen asking questions about our trip.  Beth asked them where we could find a bakery.  Today is Betty’s birthday and I wanted to find a freshly baked carrot cake with lots of icing.

Back at the rig, Betty had a great meal with bar-b-q ribs and sweet potatoes.  Beth, the self-proclaimed “Birthday Gestapo” insured that singing, cake, candle, gifts and cards all flowed according to plan.  Happy Birthday Betty!

We crashed early.

Day 23- 25Oct- 21 miles/802 total miles: to Sylvester, GA

After the wild party last night, we decided to “sleep-in” this morning.  Actually, we were all up before 7am, but, we took our time with breakfast and some other chores.

The plan was for Beth and I to take both cars and “self-support” today’s ride.  Betty would clean the RV, prepare the Ichabod Crane Dinner for this evening and drive the RV to Clay and Marybeth Kelley’s.

While leaving cars for the self-supported shuttle, I had a cell phone message from Betty’s brother saying that their dad was being rushed to a hospital inIowa.  It sounded very serious; I tried to call Betty but no answer.  I decided that Beth and I should go back to the RV to ensure contact with Betty and be prepared to respond to whatever emergency that developed.  We were nearly back to the RV when Betty called to say her dad was responding but they were doing tests to figure out what had happened.  The hospital had determined that he could go home and be monitored at home.  OK, good news, turn around, leave a car inMoultrie,GA, again, drive to Sylvester so we can bike back toMoultrie.  Before the day was over, we had put over 160 miles on both cars; this support role is not simple.

After a delayed start and all the driving it was after 1pm by the time we started riding;  beautiful countryside with cotton fields and peanut fields along the way.  I felt half exhausted before we started and the hills left a “heavy” feeling in my legs.  Finally, we got toMoultrie and drove back through Sylvester to pick up Beth’s car and on to Clay and Marybeth’s about 7 miles west of Cordele.

Meanwhile, Betty had packed up the RV and driven to Clay and Marybeth’s house.  Clay had a 30 amp outlet in his driveway just waiting for us.

Ahhh!  A hot shower, cold beer, dear friends, and a good meal make life a real joy.

From Betty:  I talked with my brother and sister about my Dad’s condition.  It seems the doctors aren’t able to determine what happened, however, his blood pressure was extremely low (30 something).  He has very low blood pressure all the time, but this dropped even lower.  They are still testing and he is wearing a heart monitor which will be read late tomorrow.  My brother and sister said they saw no reason for me to come back as he is back home and having no problem.

I packed up the RV and drove up the interstate to Cordele.  Even though it was only about 40 miles of interstate driving – there was 14 miles of construction.  You know – the kind with the concrete barriers – and me in a new RV I’m not used to.  Oh, well, we made it.  I was glad to see Clay and Mary Beth outside and ready to guide me into their driveway.  It was really great to see them and have a chance to relax and start our visit.

Day 24- 26 Oct- 40 miles/842 total miles: to Cordele, GA (Clay and Marybeth’s)

Breakfast with the Kelley’s, cool morning, Clay loads our bikes in the back of his pick-up and drives Beth and I to Sylvester.

There is a chill in the air as we start pedaling north.  We just glided through the miles.  At one break, Beth walked into a peanut field that had just been harvested and came back with a few samples, her first experience with raw peanuts.  Later, we had some recently fallen pecans, another first for her.

We had lunch at the Pecan Restaurant inWarwick; good food, friendly service and low price.  Within minutes after lunch, we missed a turn that Clay had carefully pointed out to us.  About 5 miles later we realized we had missed the closest route.  The next best choice cost us about 7 extra miles of riding.  Oh well, everything about the ride today felt good.  It was an easy pace, few hills, little traffic and picture perfect scenery.

This is harvest time here for both cotton and peanuts.  One of the huge peanut diggers came slowly up behind us on the highway.  This monster nearly fills two lanes.  It was only going a couple of miles an hour faster than us, so it took a long time for it to pass.  A large chute extended high over our heads as it slowly passed us.  It and the string of cars behind it had no more than passed until another came by.  Thankfully, these equipment operators were very careful and courteous, waiting until it was clear to pass and giving us a wide berth.  We also found nearly all of the drivers in this area to be quite safety conscious.

Shortly after arriving at the Kelley’s home, Peggy, a local reporter, arrived to interview Betty and I.  Marybeth had arranged the meeting.  Peggy took some notes and a couple of pictures.

Happy hour in the RV with rum-runners by Beth, dinner in the house with wild hog prepared by Clay and all the trimmings by Marybeth.  After dinner a DVD of “Oh Brother, Where Art Thou” with George Clooney kept us in stitches.

 

Day 25- 27 Oct- 37 miles/879 total miles:  to Plains, GA

It is a rainy day: to ride or not to ride??  The weather forecast is for light rain, at times heavy showers and the possibility of thunderstorms.  As I put my biking clothes on I am uncertain if riding is a good idea.  Clay and Marybeth depart to work on the SAM Shortline train.  They volunteer at Veteran’s State Park which includes a train running from Cordele to Plains, GA.  They suggested that I ride to Plains and load my bike on the return run.  Since we are parked in their driveway we would get off the train at Veteran’s Park, just a mile or two from their home.  Betty would ride the train to Plains and we would meet there and have lunch before returning.  What a great plan, I really want this to work.  OK, there is a break in the rain showers that have been with us all night and into the morning.  I quickly say good-bye to Betty with plans to meet her in Plains before 1:30pm and remember that Beth is returning toNaples,FLtoday.  The last two nights she has stayed in the Kelley’s house and is now on the phone.  I step in to signal good-bye and ride away.  She has been with us now for a week, nearly on-third of the trip and seems to be a real part of the journey.  What is it with “Beths”, both Beth Lawson and now Beth Kelso have been very strong riders and pushed me faster and farther than I might have gone on my own.  I am a better rider because of them.  Thanks to you both!

Light rain, thankfully warmer temps and mostly flat terrain.  I glide along to Americus,GA and find some hills in the middle of town.  Cannot get past a Krystal hamburger establishment; it is dry, warm and smells great.  A cute young black waitress namedCrystalserves up two small Krystal hamburgers.

It is a bit of a climb out ofAmericus, but then the pedaling is easier again.  I stopped for a break alongside a peanut field.  This field was in the process of being harvested.  The peanuts, which grew underground, have been mechanically dug up and lay exposed on their roots in rows throughout the field.  After a few days of drying they will be scooped up by a machine that shakes the earth from them and separates them from the roots and stems then shoots them into a wagon with high sideboards.  I taste a couple; pretty good, but they’ll be better when boiled, fried or roasted.

There is no bike lane as I pedal west along US-280, I hold close to the white line on the right side.  Drivers are courteous and give me as much clearance as they can.  Hoping to be more visible, I have attached a bright, flashing red light on the back of my bike.

A red pick-up truck slows and honks when passing, then pulls over to a stop in front of me.  A young man greets me like he knows me, then says “Sorry, I thought you were the Pastor”.  Apparently, a local pastor is a biker and Casey Bearden had stopped to talk with him.  We introduced ourselves and I found that Casey was learning to be a “grader”.  He inspects lumber and rates it according to quality.  He said he is learning how to grade manually by sight and feel, but, that much of the grading is now done by computer.  Every board is x-rayed to check for worm activity, other damage and strength.  They work mostly with pine and are an important part of the timber industry.

Plains, GA is the home of President Jimmy Carter.  I arrive at 11:30am and have about two hours before the SAM Train arrives with Betty, Clay and Marybeth.  The Carter Museum in his old High School building is interesting, as is the ride around their current residence.  The Secret Service guards a fence around the home that the Carters have lived in since 1961 (except when in the Governors Mansion and the White House.

 

At the corner store I meet Braxton Mallard.  He is in his seventies and is wearing a US Army, retired hat.  He salutes as he introduces himself.  I return his greeting and we immediately hit it off.  A veteran of Korea and Vietnam he has lots of stories.  He greets a shopper named Betty then tells me that he is the “Town Troublemaker” as he gets a devilish grin.  He remembers the Trans Continental Trailride that I was on 11 years ago when we rode through Plains.  Introducing me to Elaine, a young lady with sparkling eyes and a happy smile, he then tells us a story his father used to tell.  “Two men were arguing when one says ‘the town is having a contest and the winner gets a free bag of groceries and I want you to leave town now so that I will win the bag of groceries for being the Ugliest Man in Town”.

The train arrives on time and Clay has arranged to store my bike in the generator car; it is quite loud and piercing.  The four of us have lunch at the “Old Bank Café” on the main street in Plains.  It is an old bank, complete with a vault.  Bunches of other train passengers are having lunch or shopping in downtown Plains.  Many of them recognize Clay and Marybeth and stop to speak with them.

Back on the train we are returning to Veteran’s Park and Cordele.  Clay made a few arrangements and soon, he and I, were in the engine compartment with the engineer.  This was most interesting, the first time I had been in the engine of a moving train.  The engineer, Dave, explained some of the more important controls and answered all my questions.  A real thrill!

Back at the Kelley’s, a hot shower and dry clothes make the world look a little better.  Betty makes a salad and we join Clay and Marybeth for cocktails, good cheer and great meatloaf.

What a special day!

From Betty:  We have had such a wonderful time here in Cordele.  This morning Clay and Marybeth left early to board the train at Veteran’s Park and ride to Cordele to pick up some passengers, then back to Veteran’s to pick up more passengers.

Beth was leaving this am to head back toNaples.  We’ve enjoyed having her with us for this week and she and Chuck have been steadily pumping out the miles.  We had a brief chat and I bid her farewell and left for Veteran’s to board the train at 10am.  I had a chance to meet the special folks who volunteer and work for the train system.  This train makes many different runs along the tracks between Cordele and Archery, GA.  They have many special trips that are planned during the year and also for special holidays.  I rode the train several months ago in the evening when they had a “dinner train” trip.  Over President’s weekend, they make a trip toSavannah,GAand back.  Today was very special, with a special group of folks and our wonderful friends – Clay and Marybeth.  Plan on traveling on the SAM Shortline Train when you are inGeorgia!

Our time to depart has come too swiftly!

Day 26- 28 Oct- 50 miles/929 miles total:  to Georgetown, GA

After a restless night we were awakened by the truck engine idling out of the driveway as Clay and Marybeth left for another full day of volunteer work on the SAM Shortline train.  They work two days each week and on special occasions.  Marybeth works in the commissary car and is training to be a conductor, the most esteemed position on the train.  Clay has this great “do-nothing” job which he actually created.  He is “SAM”, the “train host”.  He dresses the part with bib overalls, pin-striped hat and red neckerchief.  He really looks like a seasoned brakeman or engineer.  He knows how to do nearly every job on the train and just roams around making the passengers feel welcome and helping out anyplace he is needed.  This niche of a job is so much like Clay that it is unbelievable.  He is a natural for it.

As they back out of the driveway, I rush outside to say good-bye before they leave.  Too late, their tail lights disappear in the darkness.  The rain has stopped and stars fill the sky.  I give the Kelley’s a call on the cell phone and thank them for the wonderful stay at their new home.

Before departing, Betty and I place a graphic sign high on the back of the RV.  We had the sign made in Key Largo but waited until we traded RVs inTampa, then waited until we had two ladders.  Clay got his ladder ready a couple of days ago but it has been raining ever since.  Now is the time.  It looks good; we may go into the sign installation business.

Betty dropped me in Plains, Georgia as she drove through on her way to Eufaula, Alabama.  The town ofPlains is on wide level terrain, however, only a few miles west, I enter a roller-coaster of hills.  Long ups and down that seem to be endless; plus, for the first time on this trip, significant headwinds.  The wind was out of the west so it was somewhat shielded as I climbed the long hills but slowed me considerably on the exposed down hill side.  It was only about 15 knots but it is psychologically depressing to have to pedal to go down hill.  I would try to go downhill as fast as possible to have momentum to start up the next hill.  The momentum quickly faded and would start shifting down but I would always run out of gears before I ran out of hills.  Geez, this is only southernGeorgia, what will happen when we get to serious hills.  What about the Rocky Mountains, the Sierra Nevadas, Cascades, Canadian Rockies, Chugash and more?  I need a lot more lower gears – or maybe a motor.

Betty unhitched the CRV in Georgetown, Georgia and left it at a gas station for me.  She then drove the RV across the bridge and Lake Eufaula into Alabama and to a Corps of Engineer campground.

Finally, a downhill run ended atGeorgetown.  It was only a few miles drive toWhiteOak CreekPark.  Great campsite right on the water.  Geese were honking as the sun faded.  After a good meal of leftover Ichabod stew, I faded too.

Betty: Clay and Marybeth left this morning to work on the SAM train again.  We had intended to be up before their departure, however our alarm, once again, didn’t go off.

We’ve had such a wonderful time here.  The food, the reminiscing, the camaraderie, the wonderful site are awesome.  Wow!  Thanks!!! Clay and Marybeth.

Chuck and I worked on getting our new graphic sign on the RV.  We did it and it looks great!!  Now when people see the RV they will know what we are up to.  We have a graphic on the car and on the RV.

We departed Clay and Marybeth’s home and drove to Plains, GA where Chuck got out and got his bike ready to go.

I departed with the RV towing the car.  We are into hills now!!!  I had planned a route to drive to Eufaula,AL, however I altered the route a bit.  I had planned to drive some county roads, but the hills were so intense I decided to go on State roads where there is a little more width.  I think it was a wise decision.  I pulled into the Corp of Engineer RV Park just south of Eufaula.  This park is incredible.  The lake is beautiful and the sites are right on the lake.  We’ll definitely want to make it back here.

Day 27- 29 Oct- 26 miles/ 955 total miles: to Clayton, AL

Sunday morning, a light day of biking, we caught up on some traveling chores.  Sunny and cool this morning but by noon warm enough to have lunch outside by the lake.

We drove a few miles back to the point I left off at yesterday.  Betty was riding with me as we passed the Alabama State Line.  The terrain was much like yesterday, lots of hills, but, no wind.  Even with several breaks the 26 miles only took a couple of hours.

It is interesting that we crossed into the Central Time Zone on the same day that clocks are turned back an hour as we go off Daylight Savings Time.  This resulted in a two hour change for us.  Now instead of it getting dark about 7pm it is 5pm.  We must be aware of that as we plan each day’s schedule.  We do not want to be riding after it gets dark.

Earlier we had seen an inviting restaurant called “Old Mexico”, we drove there this evening for dinner – it was closed.  Right or wrong, we attributed their Sunday closure to the area’s alcohol sales ban on Sunday.  Betty figured no margaritas, no Mexican food.  We found an old hotel restaurant called Cajun Corner.  It was good but different for us.  Betty had shrimp stuffed with crawfish and topped with mozzarella, plus Crawfish Etoffee Soup.  My meal was all rolled in Cajun spice and deep fried: eggplant sticks, Cajun popcorn (small crawfish), and fried pickles along with red beans and rice.

Now we’re stuffed and tired, time to crash.

Day 28- 30 Oct- 41 miles/996 total miles: to Troy, AL

We packed up to move out of our beautiful lakeside campsite.  Betty dropped me inClayton,ALthen drove off toTroy, the day’s destination.

Over hill and dale, south on State Road 51, west on SR10.  Light winds, biker friendly hills, little traffic, these rural roads are a joy.  A quick stop at a store in the small town ofLouisvillefor a snack, revealed: “no comprenda”.  The patrons spoke only Spanish; the clerk spoke about as much English as I did Spanish.  Not a good combination.  We had a delightful conversation, including a lot of one and two work sentences and mucho animation.  Apparently there are a number of Mexican families living in many communities in this area.  These are not migrant workers but permanent residents.

The last eleven miles of the day were treacherous.  When I turned north on US-231, the traffic increased dramatically.  There was a wide shoulder lane but it was deeply serrated and not rideable.  Betty picked me up at the intersection with US-29.  Tomorrow, we will take US-29 southwest to Andalusia.  She had located a great spot for the RV at Deer Run Campground, just north ofTroy.

Matt Clower, a reporter from the Troy Messenger stopped by the RV to ask about our trip and the connection with the American Cancer Society (ACS).  He told us that Troy went all out to support the ACS Relay for Life.

It was a good day, gotta go now.  The Vikings are playing the Patriots on Monday night football.  I know that back in Lime Springs, Iowa Terry Miller will be quietly rooting for Minnesota.  Don’t call, don’t talk and don’t get between Terry and the TV, also keep a clear lane to the refrigerator.  Good Luck Terry, right now your team is behind seven to zip.

Day 29-  31 Oct-  55 miles/105 total miles: to Andalusia, AL

We are leaving another beautiful campsite.  We struck camp and Betty dropped me at the intersection of US-231 and US-29.  I started riding west on US-29, a few minutes later Betty drove by me with the RV towing the CRV.  She is really getting quite confident handling that long rig.  She will look for a place to camp near Andalusia,AL.  It can be a little intimidating heading to a new place and not knowing exactly where.  Sorting it out on the fly is fine in a car, or even with two people in the RV, but, for one person it is a challenge.

Along the way several people honked at me and a few waved.  After about 10 miles, I took a break at a convenience store with gas pumps near Goshen,AL.  As I was getting off the bike, a black man about my age eased his nice looking pick-up over toward me.  With a smirk on his face he asked, “Are you Chuck Wilson?”  I told him I was and asked who he was and should I know him.  I thought he might be someone I had known in the Army, years ago.  He said his name was John and he had seen my picture on the front page of the local paper.  I asked him if I was “Wanted” or was it just a slow news day.  He reckoned that it was a slow news day and smiled.  He showed me the newspaper and explained that he would give it to me but now that he met me he would read the entire article instead of only the title and caption.

After a quart of PowerAde and a large bag of Cape Cod chips, I was on my way again.  US-29 is a good road for biking, two lanes with no shoulders, but the lanes are wide and there is little traffic.  It is a rural area and I still see a few cotton fields and peanut fields but not nearly so many as a few days back.  Now, I see more beef cattle and hay.  Also, a lot of trucks with freshly cut pine logs pass me.  I heard a plane spraying crops but it was beyond the trees, unlike the one Beth and I saw that was spraying defoliant on a cotton field alongside our road and it seemed that it was dive bombing us.

It was lunch time as I passed through Luverne.  Betty and I rode horses through Luverne over eleven years ago, we remembered it as a very friendly town.  A big-Mac was calling me.  I locked my bike to the kiddie playground fence and went in to order.  The cute young lady who waited on me made small talk as my order was being prepared.  Her name was Lisa.  Seconds later she and another young waitress came to my table and asked about the bike trip.  They had seen the “Key West to Alaska” logo on the back of my tee-shirt.  After a short explanation and some questions, they went back to work.  Soon Lisa was back with her McDonald hat in her hand.  She showed me a half-dozen or so little pins that she had earned through the McDonald training system.  She wanted me to take one “for luck”, I resisted but she insisted so I asked her to choose the one.  It is a very nice little magnetic pin with only the familiar “big M” on it.  I thanked her and gave her a card with our web address.  But wait, there is more!  While cleaning up the debris on my table, a man approached.  It was the owner, Mark Waters.  We talked about the bike trip and the American Cancer Society.  Before he left he gave me a McDonald hat, tee-shirt and four books of gift certificates.  I promised to let him know our progress from time to time.  It was a good feeling to meet such nice folks.  Laverne is still a very friendly town.

Betty called to say she had found a spot to dry camp behind a Chevron station and convenience store.  Back on the bike, more miles, more hills, a few short breaks and viola – there was Betty with the RV.  She had just returned from a grocery store.  As I put my bike away she was moving bags into the RV.  She went to step out backward and fell, glanced off the car door and landed on the crushed rock in the parking lot.  Fortunately, there was no major damage.  Her right hand and wrist still hurt and she cannot grip well with that hand.  Tomorrow she will probably have a few bruises and may not be able to drive the RV because of her wrist injury.

The “doctor” prescribed two glasses of wine and lots of rest.

From Betty:  Peggy Weathers, the manager of the Chevron station, was nice enough to give us permission to park in their back lot.  It’s right on our route and makes the logistics much easier.  We can usually “dry camp” (no hook-ups) for a couple of nights but then like to have hook-ups to refill the water tank and dump the gray and black water tanks.

I didn’t drive the RV this am and it’s probably a good thing since when I started to type the log I had to switch to the left hand hunt and peck method.  It’s probably a sprain from trying to break my fall.

 

(Sat)    Cross City to Chiefland   (25 miles)

(Sun)   Perry to Tennille   (25 miles)

(M)      Quitman to Perry   (54 miles)

COLD!!  For those who know me, know that I think anything below 80 degrees is freezing.  We awoke to a blustery cold front of mid 60s and gusty winds.  So after donning several layers and a loaned windbreaker from Betty, I was ready to hit the road.  On the way out of town, an elderly, black gentleman hailed us and enthusiastically shouted to us to “Have a great day!”  And so we did.  The beautiful rolling hills were just enough of a challenge so that we were thankful to get to the top and really enjoyed the thrillingly effortless ride down the other side.

Having already driven north from Perry to Quitman to deposit Betty and the RV, we knew that the only food stop anywhere near halfway was a DQ at the I-10 interchange.  So a guiltless chocolate malt and chicken strips it was after 26 miles.  While ordering, we met a 20-something young man who had the interesting job of building roller coasters.  Just think of all the serious “testing” you’d have to do when you were done – wheeee!  Then on for the other 28 miles into Perry.  We had several dogs (including one very scary pit bull) come chasing along with us enjoying the fact that they had someone new to play with.  But the most interesting challenge came from a big pig standing in the middle of the road.  She was crossing the road “to get to the other side” so we tried to skirt in behind her and as we approached, she turned and high-tailed it back up her driveway to rejoin her other friends.  Now that would make for an original epitaph – Killed by a run-a way sow while riding a bike down aGeorgiacountry lane. 

Perry was a welcome sight after 54 miles.  Amazingly, besides my complaining seat, I felt sensational!  Finished, we popped the bikes on my car and headed back to Quitman.  There we found Betty already finished with her long to-do list and happily typing away on her laptop.  After a blessed hot shower, my signature Smirnoff Ice, Chuck a beer and Betty some wine, we headed for a pleasant Mexican dinner.  Now as I ready for bed, my thoughts wonder: will I be able to put my aching seat back on the bike tomorrow?!

(T)       Moultrie to Quitman  (41 miles)

What a gorgeous day it is: 35 degrees and sunny!  Before we left, I went over to the fire station to secure a safe parking spot for my car.  Tom Fields, the Assistant Chief, gave me permission to park right in front of the fire station.  He even moved his truck so I could have his spot.  I almost sent my car on the bike ride and stayed to let all those handsome firefighters watch over me!  But the road was calling.

After setting up the RV inTrenton, Betty dropped Chuck & I off just outside ofMoultriefor our 41 mile journey back to Quitman.  As I gingerly sat atop my iron steed, I was very happy to note that “my seat” had survived yesterday’s ride just fine.  With the chilly temps, this Florida girl started out with 4 layers but soon found that the extra effort on these ever increasing rolling hills made two just right.  The serene scenery along with the hypnotic hills made for a very pleasant ride.  The most challenging thing was that we didn’t pass nary a restaurant or even a convenience store to get a bite for lunch.  So at about the 23 mile mark, there sat Chuck and I on the side of the road sharing his lone snickers bar.  And may I say I savored all three bites!

Once we arrived at Quitman, we high-tailed it back as today is Betty’s birthday.  A good time was had by all!! 

 (W)      Sylvestor to Moultrie  (21 miles)

Last night we stayed at an RV campground, even though it was quite a ways off our bike route, as Betty needed to prepare for tonight’s feast over at Clay & Marybeth Kelley’s home.  So this morning, we had to shuttle both cars since we wouldn’t be biking back to the RV.  96 miles later, we found a perfect parking place smack dab in front of City Hall.  After a few carious stares, we were off back towardsMoultrie.  Since we were getting such a late start and had exciting dinner plans, we settled on a short 21 mile day.  The ride showcased more cotton fields, picturesque towns, and my quads would say those darn rolling hills. 

One of the two highlights of the day was watching a new Quarterhorse foal and its mother.  They seemed to be just as curious about us.  The other was watching a lady using one of those hand-extension grabbers to pick up all the cotton clumps that had blown on to the edge of her yard.  Now you know that lady must have a perfectly clean house!  Once we made it to the car, Chuck only allowed me to quick grab a bag of peanuts for lunch as we hightailed it on to Cordele for tonight’s festivities.

How great it was!!  Clay and Marybeth share a contagious sense of humor and a lovely home.  Marybeth gave us the “official tour guide’s” walk through of the house (Chuck had to be prodded to keep up).  Then Clay showed Chuck and I his new wood-working shop out back.  The things he creates in there are amazing.  We all reconvened in one of the most festively, welcoming kitchens I’ve ever seen.  We spent the rest of the night in this converted car port of a kitchen and enjoyed Betty’s sumptuous meal of pumpkin stew, cheese grits, broccoli salad, garlic bread, and much wine along with hours and hours of stories and laughter.  I haven’t laughed that much in a long time.  What a great night!

(R)       Moultrie to Cordele  (40 miles)

Up and ready to go.  The weather is even cooler this morning but armed with three layers and a rain jacket for the potential afternoon rains, I’m good to go.  I’m not sure if the hills have smoothed out or I’m finally getting used to traversing mini mountains, but today’s ride seemed almost effortless.  I guess like any other long distance trip, like hiking or kayaking, it takes about one week to get into the groove.  But sadly, instead of finally ramping up for an exhilaratingly long journey, today will be my farewell ride.  For tomorrow I must head back toNaples.

But today’s ride was glorious.  Clay had showed us an alternate back-roads way to get to his house.  The traffic was much less so Chuck & I were able to bike side-by-side and chat most of the way.  We had lunch at a local dinner, the Pecan Grove Restaurant, and ummm-ummmm-ummmed through the whole meal. 

Since Clay was going to drop us off in Moultrie, today was the first time that we were peddling northward.  Clay drove the exact route we would be traveling back so he could show us the intersections so we wouldn’t get lost.  So of course we did.  While Chuck was in the lead while on the busiest road we were to travel, we whizzed right by our turn.  After a time, we started questioning and soon we came to a turn off that was about 5 miles past our exit.  So out the map came and we settled on an alternate route back.  So at the end of the day, our 33 mile route turned into 41 miles.  Oh well, with the beautiful rolling hills of Georgia and this being my last day, I didn’t mind the extra miles at all.  After all, now I get to tease Chuck forever about this one!

Then, about 4pm, we were interviewed and photographed by the editor of the local paper, the Cordele Dispatch.  Once done, we started with rum runners and appetizers in the RV.  Then about 6pm, Clay’s feast of wild hog was ready for us hungry campers.  I’ve never had wild hog before but boy was it good!  Then we waddled into the living room and watched the movie “O Brother Where Art Thou?” with George Clooney.  Marybeth, having seen it many times, provided comedic commentary throughout.  I didn’t know this movie was based on Homer’s Odyssey.  Now, that’s what I call literary license!!

Well, off to bed and the close of my last day on the bike trail.  I thank Chuck & Betty for allowing me to join them on their adventure and wish them God speed and a safe journey…

Day 1- 26 Sep 2006- 21miles today/21 total miles: Key West to Sugarloaf Key

Betty and I arrived in the keys this afternoon with our 2 dogs (Sweetie, a 17 year old poodle inherited from my mom, and Mitzie, a 1 yr old Yorkie/ShiTzu mix), along with 3 bikes, an RV and an eight year old Honda CRV. We parked the rig at Lazy Lakes Campground about 20 miles east of Key West and loaded the 2 hybrid bikes on the back of the CRV. As we drove thru Key West to the “Southern Most Point”, we scouted the route that we would ride back to the campground.

Summer in Key West is comparatively slow. We parked across from the colorful monument and unloaded. A couple of tourists from Czechoslovakia snapped a picture and we were on our way. Evidently the mayor didn’t get the news that our schedule had changed: no band, no police escort, no reporters, no “key to the city”:, no mayor, no speeches. Our 7,000 mile journey began unceremoniously, as we pedaled off to Duval Street for a picture of “Mile Marker 0”. We stayed on the bike path and managed to exit “Margaritaville” without so much as a beer.

While taking a short water break, Betty phoned a friend we had known when stationed in Germany, 33 years ago. We had last seen Shirley Mensch and Jim Wright seven years ago when we started our hike from Key West to Newfoundland. A dinner date was arranged and we picked up the pedal pace so as not to miss too much of “happy-hour”. We coasted into the campground, locked the bikes, showered and drove the monster (RV) back to Key West. Betty jumped out as we rolled thru an intersection near our car and we both drove back to the campground just in time to meet Shirley and Jim.

They took us to a quiet little place on Cudjoe Key. The “Square Grouper” has a reputation with the locals for good food and it was. We all swapped stories and got caught up on each other’s lives since we last met. It was one of those evenings when everything is “just right”: the food, the setting, the conversation, everything. Plus, Shirley insisted on treating.

Our long journey is off to a good start!

Day 2- 27Sep06- 40mi/61 total miles: to Grassy Key

Today I chose the road bike for a forty miles ride to Grassy Key. The plan was to leave the RV at the same campsite and shuttle with the CRV then take Shirley and Jim to dinner. I would ride from the RV park and later Betty would drive to Grassy Key, unload her bike and ride back to meet me.

It was a great day and my ride went well; over numerous keys and connecting bridges. Many of the bridges on the “old highway” are closed to traffic but open to bikes, pedestrians and fisherpersons. Seven Mile Bridge has wide safety lanes on both sides of the highway. I felt comfortable with the traffic but was concerned about all the debris that gets pushed to the edge of the road; broken glass, rocks, shredded tires, nuts and bolts. A hint of the culture of the Keys was revealed in the roadside debris. There were “beads”; dozens of bead necklaces were strewn along the bridge. Possibly tossed by some of those attending Fantasy Fest but not wanting to explain how they acquired them when they got home. I could only imagine the exciting delight that accompanied each strand of beads as they were exchanged.

A “beep-beep” brought my wandering mind back to the traffic on Seven Mile Bridge, Betty was passing me on her way to Grassy Key. She wanted to get there in time to bike six or seven miles before meeting me. She would then bike back to the car with me.

Soon I was off Seven Mile Bridge and into Marathon. In the opposite lane was a large sign to identify the beginning of the Seven Mile Bridge. It reminded me of seven years ago when Roger Rose and I finished hiking over the bridge and Carol Rose got a picture of us by that sign. Hiking across was much slower but we saw more sea life, especially rays and large schools of fish. This time I was focused on the traffic and the roadway directly in front of the bike. The only hints of wildlife on this crossing were the beads.

As I approached Grassy Key, my cell phone rang. It was Betty, she had a flat on her bike about four miles from the car and was walking back. I soon overtook her and rode on to the car then drove back to pick her up and load the bike. She told me Shirley had called and we were going to their place for dinner. We knew they had a beautiful home on Sugarloaf Key, several years ago, during our hike, they had invited Roger & Carol and Betty & I for dinner. This time we arrived early enough to enjoy their spa and pool before dinner. It was a beautiful tropical setting, we enjoyed a great meal with good wine and dear friends. Life is good!

Day 3- 28Sep06- 45mi/106 total: to Key Largo

The first task of the day was to repair the front flat tire on Betty’s bike. The plan was to drive the RV, with car in tow, to Key Largo and leave the car at Grassy Key as we pass by the point we stopped at yesterday. Then I would ride back from Key Largo to the car at Grassy Key, load the bike and drive to Key Largo to link up with Betty.

Repairing the flat and some other bike adjustments made for a late start, we dropped the car and headed for Key Largo. As we passed Tavernier, we stopped to rent a Wave Runner. It was our first time on one of these machines. For an hour we took turns driving and hanging on; it was a blast. By the time we got to the Key Largo Campground and hooked up the water, sewer and electric it was 4pm. Maybe still time to pedal the 45 miles back to the car at Grassy Key before dark. Betty planned to ride the first 5 miles with me then return to the campground as I raced on to Grassy Key. The sun was down and it was nearly dark as I arrived at the car. Let’s not do that again.

Day 4- 29Sep06- 30mi/136 total: to SR 9336

A slow leak left the rear tire of my hybrid flat. This creates a good opportunity to replace the defective tube with a thorn resistant tube and a Tuffy liner. This may provide some protection from roadside debris, especially the broken glass and sharp metal.

Betty drove me north on US 1 to Florida City then west toward Flamingo on State Road 9336 and dropped me at Canal 111. The Everglades Trail , a gravel bike trail runs south along the west side of the canal to US 1, 12 miles. The bike trail, called the Everglades Trail, continues north along canals for more than 30 miles to US 41 near the Casino. I rode south along the canal and continued south on US 1. There is little or no shoulder along this stretch of highway. Fortunately, construction crews are widening this portion of US 1 to four lanes. It is late on a Friday afternoon and nearly all work has stopped making a beautiful “fat tire” riding area. Over piles of dirt and gravel, around parked heavy equipment, through large puddles, the miles went quickly. As I rode on to Key Largo, Betty met me and we rode on to the campground.

Earlier we had seen a graphics shop on Key Largo and now we went there to have signs designed that would identify the CRV and the RV as support vehicles for our Key West to Alaska Bike Trip. We will be leaving these vehicles in many unusual places while we shuttle bikes and riders along the way. In the past, we have found that signs explaining what we are doing and providing contact information make it easier to obtain permission to temporarily park vehicles. Rod, at ATG (All Things Graphic) was interested in our trip and immediately started working on design ideas.

Day 5- 30Sep06- 10mi/146 total miles: to Homestead General Aviation Airport

We spent the morning with the folks at All Things Graphic. Rod, Tami and all the ATG staff had hustled to have some ideas for graphics that they could show us before we departed the Keys. We were impressed with their work. With only a few “tweaks”, we asked them to prepare a “see thru” sign for the back glass of the CRV and a “stick on” sign to place high on the rear of the RV. They also agreed to experiment with a few tee shirts. All this would be mailed to us as we continued north in Florida.

We drove the RV to a heavy equipment parking area near a large farm about a mile from yesterday’s ending point. Then, with our bikes loaded on the CRV, drove it north to a point near the C111 Canal back of the Homestead General Aviation Airport(about 5 miles west of Homestead). Leaving the CRV parked along the road we rode the bikes to the gravel trail along the west side of the C111 Canal and then south on the trail to SR 9336 and east a mile to the RV.

The ride along the canal was very pleasant. This entire bike trail along the canals from US 1 to US 41 (nearly 50 miles) is isolated, passing through long stretches of everglades and sometimes bordering large farm fields. Gators, wading birds, hawks, osprey and eagles are commonly seen. During the three days on the canal bike trail, I did not see another biker or hiker on the trail. Sometimes the riding is a little bumpy but it is easily negotiated with a fat tire bike.

Now back to the logistics. We loaded the bikes on the RV and drove it to where we had left the car, then towed it to the Casino parking lot at the corner of US 41 and Krome Avenue.

The Casino parking lot is a common stopover for us and lots of other RVers and truckers.  As usual, we ate in their restaurant; steak and lobster for $6.95. Life is good!