Bridging the 13 Year Gap

August 19th, Portland, OR

2008-08-19T13:10:00.000-07:00

It is now a few days later and we are readjusting. Shaggy and Amber have graciously taken us back to Portland (in a car) to spend a few days with them, eat the veggies out of their overflowing garden, and have some grand ole company. After that, we plan to ship back our bikes and gear, take a train down to northern California and see some other wonderful faces before taking a plane from San Fran back to NYC at the end of August and going into counseling with our cats.

We are sure that the benefits of this trip will show themselves in most obvious and secret ways over a periods of years, and all we can say for now is that it was fantastic.

Thank you to everyone who has helped and supported us along the way. We hope to share more stories with you when we see you all again (and not repeat too many of the same ones). We miss you and you are in our hearts. Traveling by bike is something that we hope to do again.

Love and light to you all.

Day 62, Aug. 17, Cape Disappointment S.P., WA to Seaside, OR!

2008-08-19T12:42:00.000-07:00

We had only a short ride waiting for us on the morning of Aug. 17. Our last 35 miles or so.

The fog was still thick and chilly as we made our breakfast and we were both pretty snotty as we got back onto route 101 to finish out the day.

It was a very dense 15 miles to the Meckler? Astoria Bridge, and as we approached its massive 5 mile length, we realized we had better put on our bright rain gear, to not ruin our chances of survival for the rest of our trip.

The views were pretty dreamlike as we entered this monster bridge. The first few miles arched up and down gracefully, then the middle part (after it said "Entering Oregon" was totally flat, until it went almost straight up for about a mile at the end.

By the time we circled down the exit ramp into Astoria, OR, we both had very full bladders and were pretty chilled. Fortunately a coffee roaster was close at hand and we enjoyed their facilities and coffees served in pint beer glasses while we curled up on their big leather couch with a blanket and some newspapers. Andy found the baristas antics a little tiring and seeming to take this and the fog as the character of the west coast in general, said he felt like quite an east coaster and didn't know if he could ever live there. I was just mad because the cardamon bread I ordered for $2 was just a tiny piece of buttered toast.

After we had warmed up a bit, we straddled our bikes for the final haul to Seaside. We crossed another bridge and headed down the Oregon coast. We had been told by everyone that the wind always travels from North to South down the coast and never ever to ride from South to North along the coast. This however, was not the case on this day, and so our trip ended, probably as it should have, with us riding into the wind.

The winds, our heads, our legs, our bladders, everything contributed to drawing out the final 15. But then we were "Entering Seaside" and the sun shone like crazy, well just in our heads. We found the promenade and the beach, and after a quick debate about whether to actually roll our bikes onto the beach, decided that this was ultimately a fine and necessary finish. We got about 50 feet onto the beach, before it was just silly to push them further. High fives and kisses were had. Feet were stuck in the water. Other tourists were co-opted into taking a picture of us, parents were called, and then, it was, as a huge approaching storm cloud began to arrive over the mountains, time to go and find our wonderful cousins.

We found the house right on the promenade and Amber and Shaggy were waiting for us with big hugs. We were immediately fed some and allowed to come down a bit, before the rest of the friendly and generous hearted Fillmores arrived.

Amber's dad, Dale, was curious to know all the ins and outs of our trip, but we were told we had one last mission. Although this so called Pacific Beach is not sunny, warm, and the water flows off glaciers in Alaska, we were bound to enter its waters. I had no intention of doing so, but Andy set off bravely for the water. Shaggy told us he has only ever gone up to his waist. Andy wasted no time, followed by Amber's brother Lance, nephew Jackson, and niece Emma. A brave soul. When Andy seemed to survive the plunge (although we were already shivering there just standing in our sweatshirts and pants), I was a little more tempted to try it. Without thinking about it too much we both ran into it as fast as possible and dove in. That was about all we could handle, and we were quickly running back out of it. Suddenly the air temperature outside seemed much more bearable.

After a hot shower, dinner was put on by the amazing Fillmore women who served up some delicious paia together. Then was the beach bonfire with s'mores and battle wound scratches from finding wood.

At some point we went to bed, first on the couch while watching a movie, and then happily and most comfortably on a futon in the upstairs of the cottage.

Day 61, Aug. 16 Raymond to Cape Disappointment S.P., WA

2008-08-19T12:09:00.000-07:00

This could have been our last day, but we decided to drag it out.

We woke up on this Saturday morning, ready to head down the coast of Washington to Ilwaco, where we would get our first taste of non-bay waters and see the Pacific!

We stopped at their downtown cafe where we ate breakfast among the other early risers (no one close to our age). The waitress warned us that the pancakes were large when I ordered 2, but unfortunately we chose to ignore her warnings, and even with our well developed appetites, could not finish the pancakes.

Feeling quite full, we turned onto 101 to head towards South Bend, the little port town that first says hi to the bay.

This was where the salt water really became a reality and signs for oysters and fishing nets started appearing everywhere.

Our ride down the coast (which you can't always) see was a good mixture of hilly and flat and I felt some upper muscles in my legs burn that I hadn't really heeded since the Appalachians. Even though, we were now on this leg though, our minds were still unoccupied and so we tuned in again to the Ipod, which eventually gave out on us.

At the point it did though, we were going into an area where we could see more of the tapering bay, so we started to focus more on that and the fact that this signified the end of our trip, which, although slightly desperate for, might be hard to process.

The ride went really fast, we only did about 45 miles though, and before you knew it, the temperature had dropped about 20 degrees and a great fog was moving along beside us. Then was the sign "Seaview" which we rushed for, and once we were on the beach we were engulfed in cold cold clouds that obscured almost all the view, but you could still hear the waves breaking. We took off our shoes and walked into the water, which was awfully cold, but not so cold as it seemed about 10 seconds later when the very bones in your foot suddenly started to ache with a throbbing pain.

We hopped out refreshed, only to find a family desperately trying to push their car out of the sand. After taking a picture of their embarrassing predicament, we went over and helped, then walked back to the water to wash off our feet. Not 2 seconds later another family had gotten stuck in the sand, although this one had 3 only 3 scrawny kids in it to help their father push, so we also obliged them with a push. Then as we walked back to our bikes, yelled in the window at any low cars that looked eager to try their turn on the sand.

A few miles still from Ilwaco, which we had heard had some delicious seafood, Andy was stopped for his bike mechanic tools and skills by some locals having trouble with their seat angles.

Then we were in Ilwaco, where, when the fog wasn't too thick, we could see the Oregon mountains across the big mouth of the Columbia River. We strolled around their town and through their Saturday market at the port, looking at knicknacks that we had no interest in. After a bit, we decided it was time to try our seafood dinner, and so we headed to one that looked quite pleasant. After choosing our dinners, we sat for a while, and sat longer, until finally we decided that we should probably go somewhere else where someone might actually wait on us. We strolled out and down to the next restaurant, got menus, sat down, and then, as they only had fried seafood and fry baskets, opted to again go elsewhere. We walked to 3 or 4 other restaurants, all of which were either closed (it was like 3:30) and too expensive, or didn't serve seafood at all. At some point, we realized we were super hungry and split a cup of salmon chowder from a vendor just so we wouldn't bite each other's head off. I was pretty sad that we had left our first venue and Andy was being very patient with me. Still hungry, but a little less unfed, we headed back into the main part of town to see if anything there might look appealing. Our pride prevented us from going back to restaurant number 1. The place we ended up at was a strange little cafe that was tucked in the back of an antiques mall, was short staffed (on account of someone being down at the fair) and the only seafood they served was skewered shrimp and fries. Andy had a burger and I ordered the shrimp, which ended up being fried on a stick and in no way resembling a shrimp. The only good part about the meal (aside from the ice cream we ate at the end of it) was that the owner of the building was sitting near us and struck up a conversation and gave us the rundown on the rise and fall of logging, the fact that most of the seafood in the area doesn't get fished there, and the quickest way to get to Cape Disappointment State Park.

Realizing we needed to cook a real dinner when we arrived at the park, we stopped at the grocery store, where the highlight was cousin Shaggy calling to give us the low down on meeting them the following day in Seaside, OR (where they would take us in and feed us :). This lifted our spirits and we set off on our foggy, hilly, chilly ride the few miles to the cape.

The park had hiker/bicyclist camping spots and after we set up camp, we wandered down to the beach, which was oddly strewn with lots of lots of driftwood of various sizes. Much of the wood had been made into various huts and haunts, some that were pretty substantial. Although we couldn't see very far (perhaps this is the disappointing part), the site was still beautiful and we could just make out the lighthouse up on the cliff to our left.

Eventually, it became rather chilly and we decided it was time to go back to camp and build a fire. The firewood was a ripoff ($7) but it was pretty cold and damp so we ate the money and enjoyed our evening much more as a result. This dinner was much more satisfying and we toasted our last night on the trail before Andy finished his day with a freezing shower (which I, now well-informed, skipped) and we went to bed in our tent, for the last time. (for a while)

Day 60, Aug. 15, Lewis and Clark S.P. to Raymond, WA

2008-08-19T11:24:00.000-07:00

Woke up looking up at our ladder of tree limbs, retrieved the food unharmed from the restroom, made some grub, and headed out. Decided to overpay the park since we couldn't find change for our twenty and apparently good karma is always in need of accumulation.

Headed up a little road called Jackson Ave to Chehalis, only about 12 miles, but at this point, we decided to stop and take a long rest (apparently losing momentum, but also wanting to use the computers at their much sought after library). It was only about 9:30 when we got there however, so the library was not open, so we treated ourselves (finally) to one of these little espresso huts in town. The barista was wearing high heels in her little hut and seemed to find them a little awkward for traveling the 6 sq. feet around the interior, but she was going out later and definitely needed the practice.

When we got to the library at 10:01 we had already been beaten to their two computers by two brothers who camp out at the library every day. So we chatted it up with the librarians for a good while, they told us about Abel Ostrander's grave that is in the middle of a median strip somewhere around there, but which was previously a field (M- I can give you the details later- she printed them out for me). There were also some complications with reserving the computer system so that kept us occupied for quite a while as well as the printer of receipts.

After our blogging, etc. it was time for lunch, as we made ourselves comfy at a bakery cafe on their mainstreet that was pretty delicious. They definitely knew how to bake some fluff into their quiche and spinach pies. We spotted the movie theater that was playing Dark Knight (which we so were longing to see) and briefly entertained the idea of staying there and watching it. Fortunately, our sense got the better of us, so we set off for the next 50 or so miles of our trip to Raymond.

It was a slow day. It was already 1, so that was our own fault, but we were starting to get bored, and suddenly the brilliant wide and exotic WA shoulders, dwindled as the speeding logging trucks increased and the road just got rougher and rougher. The old forests flanking the roads were beautiful, but our hands were vibrating like crazy and our brains were going 100 miles an hour, while our bikes were only going about 10, and the ratio wasn't computing well. We put on our ipod hiking device for the 4th time on our trip and tried to let the day pass. It was also very hot and humid, although not in a way that competed with VA.

We stopped about 20 miles from our destination at Lebam, one of a series of old logging towns that ran along the railroad and used to thrive until they switched everything to trucking and made the railroad into a trial with fist size gravel so its not too good for anything. Anyway, we stopped at the one business still there, run by a lady named Mickey, who had let us use her restrooms and gotten ice water before she even knew if we were buying anything. All the lights in the store were off to cut down on the heat and it was nice and cool compared to outside, so we split a tasty club sandwich and a peanut butter milkshake (which she said she had put 1/2 jar of generic peanut butter in). She split everything onto seperate serving dishes so we didn't have to fight. After a spell, she sent us down the road to the next town, Menlo, to say hi to her friend May or Kay there who ran their general store. We did say hi and drink a soda, and then pushed on the last few miles to Raymond, with Alison Krauss giving us a little push on to the end of the day, until we started smelling a bit of saltiness in the air.

Raymond didn't have much to offer, but we did stop at the grocery before heading to the RV park on the river for the night. The older woman who ran it also sold emu products, from Nativity emu eggs to oils, which we rubbed on sore knees to see if it would ease the joint pain. It did, but unfortunately by the time we remembered to buy some, she had turned in. We cooked our pasta dinner and ate our snacks, showered and turned in.

Celebration Images

2008-08-19T10:23:00.001-07:00

contemplating the ride's end

needing a final bow

returning quickly from the plunge

with renewed energy

August 17 Day 62 Images Cape Disappointment, WA to Seaside, OR

2008-08-18T13:29:00.001-07:00

coming upon Port Ilwaco
(through the trees)

last images of Cape Dissappointment

bridge to Oregon, Washington side

bridge from Washington, Oregon side

Becca is always pretty cool

the Oregon coast breaking through the fog

ok, not always so cool
Seaside, OR

we felt the need to push our bikes onto the beach

they made it, beyond our expectations

and so did we

thank you everybody...

August 16 Day 61 Images Raymond, WA to Cape Disappointment, WA

2008-08-18T13:12:00.000-07:00

fog, we call it a cloud, rolling through Raymond

Willapa Bay, not quite Pacific

though close enough to smell it

and be fooled into hints of it

with the cloud now through Seaview

we have hints of the Pacific

and re-tracing our path
(with a crab claw no less)

with fairytale images in the fog (cloud)

we settle for Cape Dissappointment

and join others for a rest

August 15 Day 60 Images Lewis and Clark S.P. to Raymond, WA

2008-08-18T11:38:00.000-07:00

trees, any excuse to stop

or a deer

or a sign that says Pacific County
(oh so close)

until we can stop for good
(or at least an evening)

August 14 Day 59 Images La Wis Wis to Lewis and Clark S.P.

2008-08-18T11:27:00.000-07:00

the Elks visit on our way to breakfast
we really enjoy these treats

a last look at Mt. Adams from the west
we still mistake it

Mt. St. Helens, Andy had been anxious for a glimpse
with Reiffe Lake covering 2 mining towns in the fore

Birthday celebrating Becca, 25, Cowboy, 68
and the baking ladies

and we consider our own corner...

August 12 Rest/Sick Day 11 Images Yakima, WA

2008-08-18T10:41:00.001-07:00

aww a peaceful morning with the ducks

under the watchful guise of our gaurdian fisherman?

August 13 Day 58 Images Yakima, WA to La Wis Wis Campground

2008-08-18T10:39:00.001-07:00

Naches, the last of Yakima Valley for us

and into a canyon, again, along Route 12

the other routine, blowing the nose

Rimrock Lake, thanks Corps

and the Chiefs wives turned to stone

Pines and evergreen again on the way to White Pass, the west

water from the rocks along the way

or your more amazing traditional waterfall

fed from another falls above

finally, our last pass

enjoyed by several ridge hikers, Mexico to Canada
makes us look like pikers

Mt. Rainier is simply awe-inspiring
so we offered our own awwwww

and the Palisades are no amazing slouch

nor La Wis Wis's 300 year old trees

Day 59, Aug. 14 (Thurs) La Wis Wis Campground to Lewis and Clark S.P., WA

2008-08-15T11:22:00.001-07:00

Got up, packed, and opted to head about 8 miles down to Packwood for breakfast. We managed to escape the campground without talking to the campground host, who was very nice, but definitely a longwinded fellow. We made our way up that steep hill, and then rolled up and down to Packwood, stopping for various fixes, like tissues (toilet paper), flying straps, and bent fenders.

As we rolled down into Packwood, we noticed about 5 statues of elk in someone's yard, like many we had seen before, only these didn't look like the paint job was chipping off. Then we realized that they were real. There were all in all about 7, pretty young, male and female elk roaming this church ground, mowing their lawn for them one bite at a time. We stared at them and they stared back. The people driving by seemed pretty unimpressed. Once we realized they weren't going anyway and it would be awkward to stand there all day, we scurried down to Peter's Inn for breakfast where we dined on a fresh cinnamon roll, omelette, and the Hungry Man Grumble (which I couldn't finish- a first!). There we met a few nice folks, 2 guys from New Paltz and Long Island who were in the process of training to hike Mt. Rainier and a nice wobbly older fellow with a great white beard who gave us very slow cooked advice and told us about Willie Keil's grave (who apparently died on the Oregon Trail, but was pickled in alcohol and carried all the way west).

After some brief digestion we set out. We both had pretty clear heads and our intention was set on getting where we needed to go. The riding was pretty pleasant, and we made it about 25 miles until we stopped for some grocery store grub at Morton and ate outside in their "garden" section, which consisted of us, a potted plant, and a very poor sculpture. Some man came by and sort of yelled at us for not being careful up the road, but we weren't really sure how we were being uncareful (the shoulders are nice and big here) and how his yelling was helping anything.

We thought we should get a few more miles out of us before we stopped into a library, so we headed up to Mossyrock, up the strangest hill we have been on. It tore us to pieces, it had an extra lane for the slow uphill traffic, and the truckers had trouble too, but when you looked at it the incline looked like nothing. Go figure.

After we had huffed and puffed our way to Mossyrock, we discovered there was no library there, so we went another 10 miles to Sulkam, getting a few glimpses of the top, or lack of top, of Mt. Saint Helens.

The library there was swell. We took caught up a bit on the internet, bought 2 books for 10 cents a piece, and talked to Sherri the librarian who used to be a body builder. To look at her, you would never had expected that in a previous life, she was a body builder. She was the most petite, quintessential librarian you have ever met, and her voice never raised above that 6 in voice.

After we'd been there a good 2.5 hrs, we set off for the last 10 miles or so, in search of a little grocery to supply us with some eats for dinner.

Of course next to Ethel's market, a few miles up the road, was this tiny trailer restaurant called Kelley's Kountry Kafe, which after perusing the grocery store, appealed to us no end. Entering, the full house of 20 or so people turned to look at us, and we found the one empty table back in the corner. The center table of 8 people was celebrating one of the fellow's birthday and they kindly offered us some of their delicious homemade cake, wild blackberry cobbler, and ice cream. We gladly accepted this desert first idea. It was the kind of place where everyone talks at each other across the restaurant, and we had a mighty fine time chatting with everyone. We even discovered that the man's bday was actually the same as mine, which was cute or something.

After we overstayed there and the party broke up, we headed up our last big hill and down to Lewis and Clark S.P. (they really like these guys here). We set up camp among this very old growth forest, delved into our books, and took hot showers. Unfortunately when we were trying to hang our food from a tree, we ended up break 2 dead branches and 1 very much alive branch and we felt quite sad in our hearts. Instead we ended up hanging it in the "out of order" stall in the bathroom. We settled into our tent after catching a glimpse of the almost full moon and went to bed under our more than amazing tree canopy.

Day 58, Aug. 13 (Wed.) Yakima to La Wis Wis F.S. Campground, WA

2008-08-14T16:51:00.001-07:00

Woke up feeling better and pretty ready to escape from the motel. Andy had found a different breakfast haunt in our only literature (the Yakima Guide) and so we ate back at the cusp of town at the Powerhouse Grill. The food was really good actually (granola covered blintzes?) and we got our own pot of coffee (who can complain) plus the waitress was charming and knew everyone's name in the restaurant. Already a better day.

We started down Powerhouse Road (a highway predating Rt. 12 that we would eventually join) which wound its way all through the rest of the Bitteroot valley, through farms, past some encouraging and energetic biking ladies, and eventually down to Naches. In Naches we got OJ, checked out the Ranger Station, and prepared ourselves for our last (we think) big pass, White Pass.

The water in the river started to get greener as we followed it up into the mountains. The ride was pretty splendid and we both seemed very focused on our goal, and making good time. About 20 miles up, we stopped for a snack. 18 miles to summit.

At some point we came out of the passages of the Cascades and around the sides of the mountains where we saw several gorgeous lakes, bizarre volcanic rock formations, a gorgeous waterfall, and lots of little ones just springing out of the wall down onto the shoulder. We stopped quite a few times on the way up, but finally made summit, where it crossed with the Pacific Crest Trail (sort of like the Appalachian Trail of the West).

At the grocery on top, we took a restbit and talked to about 6 hikers who were hiking from Mexico to Canada. They are the truly hardcore ones. All seemed like nice people who had been alone for a very long time. Two of them were wearing long skirt things which we couldn't figure out how that would be helpful, but still seemed cool at the moment. One's name is Airic, and you can follow his progress on cactustocoast.blogspot.com.

After our bagel, avocado and coffee had been sufficiently digested, we cruised down a few miles, when behold, Mt. Rainier popped up in our vision. It was so gorgeous and unbelievable to see. We couldn't get enough. We had some fine supportive youngsters take our picture with the mountain, before finishing our cruise past the Palisades and down to La Wis Wis campground.

The road down to the campground was super steep and we were bummed that we would have to climb it in the morning. The camping was expensive and had no showers or anything, but we still made do. The trees were enormous (150 ft tall and about 30-60 inches in diameter). We sat by the river for a bit, looking at the neat rocks, then made a reluctant fire, washed my hair in the spicket, cooked dinner, and went to bed.

August 11 Day 57 Images Toppenish, WA to Yakima, WA

2008-08-14T16:19:00.001-07:00

morning flats, ahhh what fun

Goat heads, the foil of our trip?

Mt. Adams, often mistaken for the famous Mt. Rainer...
by us

August 10 Day 56 Images Hood Park to Toppenish, WA

2008-08-14T16:16:00.001-07:00

less than spectacular view and the sun still is cool

riding above the 'burbs of Tri-cities, WA

the pee and water routine

Yakima Valley's diversity even in mountain colors

August 9 Day 55 Images Lewis & Clark S.P. to Hood Park

2008-08-14T16:11:00.000-07:00

Yoni

the winds drive us a little mad

wandering South Pasco

Hood Park, less than a million dollar view

though we make it our home

with the moon in view

Rest/Sick Day 7, Aug. 12 Yakima

2008-08-14T15:43:00.001-07:00

The motorcyclists had left at about 4 in the morning for some reason, revving and lighting up the tent, but other than that we both slept fairly well. Andy was starting to mend a bit, but I was feeling pretty pooped still. Cough was chesty and I sounded like quite the smoker.

We packed up and went in search of the greenway along the river hoping to avoid as much of the less-than-charming metropolitan area as possible. When the path ended, we found ourselves on Fruitvale and 40 and ate at this funny chain called Sharis that had the most extensive menu I had ever seen. After leafing through 30 plastic pages, we finally decided and ate our filling breakfast. At some point I mentioned that I could really use another rest day (prompted to do so the night before by dear Marya) and Andy took action with the phone book. Within 1/2 hr, about 9am, we were at the less than luxurious Red Carpet Motor Inn just down the street, where we remained almost exclusively for the next 24 hrs.

Out of reading material, we gorged ourselves on Never Say Never Again, Star Wars, MASH, X-Files and sodas from the 7-11 across the street. At one point we took a break to ride about 10 blocks down to the Yakima Cinema and see the X-Files matinee for $5. Then returned to regular TV gorging and resting, drinking lots of tea, napping, and eating a delivered pizza for dinner.

In the end, what's another day in the grand scheme of things?

Day 57, Aug. 11 (Monday) Toppenish to Yakima, WA

2008-08-14T15:23:00.000-07:00

We didn't rush getting up, but when we did the first task we set to was fixing my front tire. I then discovered that the back had a flat to. And the culprit? These doggone thorns! And there is not just 1, but several in each wheel. Even the ones yet to have full flats. So after fixing up both tires. Realizing we have 1 patch and maybe 2 good patched tubes left, we made for the laundry.

We took the rest of the morning pretty easy. After our wash, we ate at their cultural center, which was surprisingly inexpensive and tasty. They had Huckleberry everything that they made on premises, from sugar free soda to tea and pancakes. I think I forgot to mention this place is directly across from the big time casino that the Yakama tribe runs. (Why there are different spelling of Yakima, I don't know.) Then we enjoyed the pool, hot tub, and sauna for a bit, hoping to clear our sinuses and chesty coughs up a bit.

Around 11:30, we thought we should probably get ourselves going. So we headed back to pack up, only to discover that there were more flats to attend to. We were pretty much at the ends of our wits with this stuff, and after a couple of failed attempts and no remaining replacement supplies, we kept our fingers crossed that the thorns would keep away for at least the ride to Yakima.

(I literally did cross my fingers on the ride.) We were scared to stop, but we kept having such gorgeous views of Mt. Adams, that eventually we held our breath to stop and take a picture of this gorgeous mountain. The last 8 miles or so we even stayed on the interstate (legal here) just to cut back on time.

When we finally pulled into the Valley Cycling shop (about 3 miles into town), we were so happy to be there. The shop carried thorn proof everything. We had never seen some of this stuff even to fend off NYC dangers. Thorn proof tires (yes, 3), thorn resistant tubes (no), tubes that release goo when they get a flat (yes, 1), and on and on. We dropped about $175 on this (last week of our trip and still), but we figured it was worth it to get us through "goathead" country (as the thorns are called). We sat outside the shop and changed out our tires, I put one on backwards, Andy gave one a pinch-flat, so it took us a goodly amount. Our gear is strewn everywhere and we are sloppily mechanicking our bikes outside their fine shop. Thanks guys.

Yakima wasn't the most "darling" town we had been in, or really at all, so our dinner turned out to be had at Red Robin, a west coast version of Applebees or TGIFs or something. I was feeling pretty bad and had some soup and salad to feed my cold. Andy dined on a big ole burger and bottomless fries. At one point he had 3 baskets in front of him.

The day was pretty much over and we were not feeling very "rested", we headed to the supermarket to get a few things, and then biked about 6 miles to the KOA across the river. We had been aiming for a S.P., but took the wrong road, and came upon this instead.

The KOA was ok. It was a little dirty (the kind you don't see until you already pay), the pond had a fiberglass figuring sitting in a john boat floating around creepily, and there were some kids practicing tricks on their bikes. They were not very good. We made tea, took showers, spoke to some nice motorcyclists from British Columbia who were debugging their bikes, and conched out for the night.

Day 56, Aug. 10 Hood Park to Toppenish, WA

2008-08-14T14:56:00.000-07:00

We woke up, did our tent packing thing, ate some oatmeal, and set off to reride our route down through Pasco and the other Tri-Cities.

The morning was very pleasant, but we hadn't gone but 5 miles when I got a flat in my tire. I suspected it might be fated to be a long day. Not bad, just long.

We crossed the wide Yakima River (which joins with the Snake here to become the Colummbia) over quite an architecturally beautiful bridge and then made our way onto the biking greenway on the other side of the river. These things are great, but sometimes they have so many options it is a little confusing. Nevertheless, our ride along the bank was nice and refreshing (we were sort of in Kennewick at this point) and full of much needed restrooms. I think the seat is wearing out my bladder. TMI.

When we stopped off for 2nd breakfast after only another 8 miles or so, we knew for certain that the day would be long. Breakfast at the Sage Port was well worth it though and definitely the happening place to be on this Sunday morning. The best corned beef hash we've ever had, as well as pancakes good enough to rival Ben Hitchings'. The place was full of kischy pirate and sailor stuff and full of motorcyclists and nice local people.

One of the reasons we were reluctant to continue I think, was because we were a little uncertain of our route. Big cities can be a little indimidating to a cyclist. One older couple put us onto the track of the Old Inland Empire Highway, which turned out to be quite a good recommendation, and got us to get going for a little bit.

We missed the turn and ended up at the grocery store, before we ever got on this road, but once we did we were quite happy to enjoy its sights. Bizarre rock formations climbed up on our right side, farms and orchards surrounded the Yakima River we were following, and big brown and black hills rose up on the left side, farms creeping as far up on them as they dared. The road was windy and lovely, but we were still moving like molasses.

We passed Prosser, and eventually came to the town of Grandview. I really needed a break. It was about 4, and even though the hills were pretty gentle, my knees were killing me. So we had our classic Sunday dinner in a really tasty Mexican place. We tried the Huevos con Napolitas which had cactus in it, a cross between a cooked green bean and pepper, that was pretty tasty. Our most professional waitress gave us further directions on how to get to our destination in Toppenish, and we happily followed them back into more lushness. The only drawback were the farm dogs that chased us. But the traffic was light and the shoulders good to us.

It was about this time we started to make out mountain shapes in the background of our landscape. It was also about this time that Andy got a flat in his back tire. We stopped to blow it up, just to see if we could make it down Rt 22 to Toppenish, while we were stopped, my front wheel went flat. We tried the same fix. Another mile or so, and Andy's back tire was totally flat, so we stopped and got out the gear and began pulling several of the same thorns out of it that had been in mine earlier.

Another ten miles down the road, he got another flat. We changed the tube. Our last new tube gone, and 2 patches left. Scary.

We made it to Toppenish, but we were both just exhausted. It was already past 8pm and we were spent mentally and physically. We had been discussing a rest day here, but knew we needed a bike shop in our future, so planned instead to head into Yakima (20 miles or so) and then take the rest of the day easy.

The Yakama Nation RV that we called home that night in Toppenish was awesome. It was only $15 and had laundry, a pool, a hot tub, showers, a sauna, free internet, coffee, and tea, and leather couches with a big screen TV that we could just zone on.

We showered and set up camp among the 60 or so other tents (mostly belonging to fireman fighting a nearby wildfire), and promptly went to bed. Both of our colds were settling in strongly and we needed some shuteye.

Day 55, Aug. 9 Lewis & Clark Trail S.P. to Hood Park (Pasco)

2008-08-11T08:49:00.000-07:00

We closed the library down (5pm)after witnessing some local hysterics involving a printer, 2 customers, and both librarians. Then we headed down main street to explore our dining possibilities. The librarians had recommended a place called "Books and Brew" (not surprisingly) and we were low on literature, so we headed there. Pretty neat place, awesome beer (with a little too much alcohol content 6.5%), homemade pot pies and soup. We stayed there as long as we thought reasonable, Andy dove into the Alchemist and I picked up an author we had read back in Mr. Love's 7th (or 8th) grade English class, Kaye Gibbons.
We left as a storm approached and stopped by the grocery store for some freshness as well as some marshmallows and chocolate for roasting.
The Lewis and Clark Park was a quick 5 miles down the road and so we were feeling pretty good when we got there. The attendant had Palsy of some sort, and after he helped us we settled into the primitive campsites. It was a strange setup, just 4 campsites set up in a sort of isle, or railroad apartment style so you have to walk through everyone elses to get to yours. We set up, went to ask for firewood and was told their was a ban on fires, so we spent the rest of the evening reading by the rocky beach beside the stream, eating cold marshmallows and chocolate. When we had run out of daylight, we made our back to camp (all of 30 feet) to find that another cyclist (who would have thought off the transam?) was camping there also. Yoni of Rochester, NY turned out to be a fine chap. His partner (the dad of a friend)had had to abandon their Northern Tier journey in Glacier NP because his knees were just giving out, so he had flown onto Eugene, OR and Yoni was finishing the trip solo, and off route. We talked the coast-to-coast shop (which is very different from REAL cyclist shop I think), shared some more cold marshmallows, and hit the bumpy sack.) You can check on Yoni at mikeandyoni.blogspot.com (Fatman and Beardo, although Yoni no longer sports a beard).

We woke up. Andy did not sleep well on account of not breathing too well, and we were both pretty much full of snot. Sorry. Yoni said he too had been sporting a sore throat the past few.

Cooked our oats by the river, got packed up, said our goodbyes, and were out of there nice and early. Yoni was heading to Walla Walla.

As soon as we exited the park, the wind was with us, or rather against us. It was not going to be a terribly long day, Hood Park was only 55 miles or so from where we were, but nevertheless it was starting to look like we were going to be pushing into our greatest adversary for most of the day.

We were not wrong. The wind followed us around corners, as the Park Ranger at Hood said "Our Lady of Perpetual Headwinds" was our patron for the day. We stopped about 15 miles in at a teeny town, Prescott I think, to let our anger subside and do some emotional and physical eating of microwave Jimmy Dean biscuits.

The landscape was hilly and golden brown with wheat and hay. This gradually was peppered with more and more green spots, a few orchards, vineyards, a potato field. There was nothing but this and NorthwestAgri's intense no trespassing signs (we were scared to pee) until we reached Hood Park. At which point, we were exhausted, it was getting hot, and it was still pretty early in the afternoon. A short debate of whether to stay at the park for the rest of the day or head into Pasco for some urban experiences followed, ultimately, and maybe regrettably with Pasco winning out.

We headed across the Snake River and into Pasco. A bike lane was our greeting into the city, so we anticipated a good omen.

Apparently we misread the signs. Although I wouldn't say it was an entirely bad experience, it certainly wasn't a warm and cuddly one. We followed the signs to the City Center, but no center really appeared. Lots of sad looking Hispanic shops, dirty beach town vibes, and unfit people. We passed one gorgeous building that was city hall with a swell park across from it, but otherwise it was a dirty flat town. We stopped at a gas station to check the phone book for options, but this came to nothing and instead we munched, or should I say devoured some halfway decent Mexican bread, 4 rolls each. Ouch. We finally decided that our best bet would be to eat the 5 miles and head back to Hood asap. We did this, but not without stopping at a grocery store that was so hot the owners had to sit outside and didn't have any groceries, just more Mexican bread, then we headed to another grocery which was only a small improvement on the first and bought all of their produce: an avocado and a couple bananas. Trying to rectify our sense of Pasco, we went into this bakery that seemed like the place to be. And were delighted to find that they serve sandwiches! Hurrah! So we split a sandwich (and these bean burritos Andy got for a $1 at the grocery) and an ice coffee, which ended up being like very cold chocolate milk with a hint of coffee in it. We managed to leave without buying any baked goods, but while we were in there for 30 minutes or so, about 50 people came and went, filling up cafeteria trays with loads and loads of baked goods from right off the baking sheets, then having them bagged at the front counter before they left with many gallons worth of sugar and bread.

The ride back to Hood was fantastic as we actually had the wind at our back. We set up camp in the Overflow camping area, which turned out to be great. Then we just vegged out by the Snake River, swimming and staring at our majestic view of the grain elevators across the way. We cooked our dehydrated soup, finished our books, and then went back to camp, stocking up on toilet paper for our snotty noses on the way, and then sleeping happily under the stars and the very bright half moon.

August 8 Day 54 Images Chief Timothy SP, WA to Lewis & Clark SP, WA

2008-08-08T15:52:00.001-07:00

sunrise over Chief Timothy SP
(Pop would be so proud)

vying with Wyoming for brilliant sunrises

hypnotizing landscape

surrounding the park

climbing outta the canyon landscape to find,
Kansas?

Day 54, Aug. 8, Chief Timothy S.P. (near Clarkston) to Lewis & Clark S.P. (near Dayton)

2008-08-08T15:46:00.000-07:00

After we left the library, things got messy.
We went to the grocery store. We wandered around the grocery store for almost an hour, debating what to do. See a movie? No we have to go up a mountain. Get a hotel? No, what do we get for dinner? See a movie? Maybe. I'm getting a peach, do you want one? No, what do we get for dinner? Should we just go get some coffee and come back? Let's look at maps. Crap, they only have Rand McNally maps. Dinner? And on and on, until we were totally hungry and at the end of our wits. We bought stuff for dinner and snacks, bought some fruit to snack on then, and left the premises, where we were greeted with just a wave of thick thick heat.
We needed to be inside again. Not the grocery store. But somewhere.
Fortunately, there was a visitor center around the corner. We went in and were saved by the nice friendly faces of the ladies there and the bicycle map and other literature we were given. After graciously, we hope, taking their advice and sympathy, we also took their recommendation to head down to Rooster's on the water for a restbit until the heat passed a bit.
Roosters was the restaurant attachment to an RV park overlooking the Snake River and it was just what we needed for a little revival. We calmed down, perused the maps, were silent, talked a bit, and finally headed out to Chief Timothy S.P., just about 7 miles out of town.
The ride there was most pleasant. An unusual cloud covering/sprinkling rain storm kept us relatively cool and we were just in love with the river and the rock formation and the huge golden pyramid mountains flanking the sides of the river.
The SP was actually on an island between the Army Corps of Engineers dammed lake and the Snake River. We grabbed a spot right on the water, then headed down for a very quick and chilly swim in the water and an ice cream bar. We weren't really hungry so we didn't cook the dinner we had made. We tried to start a fire, but couldn't keep the wet wood going and eventually gave up. Andy stepped on a rusty nail, but fortunately caught himself before it went really in, and fortunately he had gotten a tetnis shot when he almost chopped his fingers off a few years back. At some point the mood became ominous again and we went to bed.
The morning was a little better, but neither of us slept very well, our throats still hurt and Andy had a pounding sinus headache. We couldn't find our matches and borrowed a lighter.
We got off about 7:30, keeping in mind to be patient with ourselves as we had to climb about 2000 feet in the next 15 miles to Alpowa Summit. We had been told it was steep (but fortunately that is not according to Appalachian standards) and although the ride was pretty intense, it was also wonderous scenic and different from what we were used to. Andy, God Bless him, took over my role as flat-getter and popped our first in Washington (that covers all states except for NJ and possibly Oregon). After fixing it on the very skinny shoulder with some kind and some less-than-kind drivers flying by, we made it to the top. Although it wasn't so hot yet, we had both sweat gallons, and felt like maybe we sweated some of our toxins out.
The ride down the other side was chilly but refreshing. We stopped in a little town called Pomeroy that was bigger than I thought and smaller than Andy expected and had a soup and sandwich at the Soggy Bottom Coffee House. The meal was tasty although the server was on her cellphone the whole time, and we whet our pop culture/political appetite with Obama articles in Rolling Stone.

When we left at about 11:15 it was definitely hotter than it had been previously, but still doable. The first 20 miles to Dayton were swell and I felt myselft smiling most of the way, enjoying this strange surreal land. People gave us the thumbs up, got out of the way, and some motorcyclists gave us some good conversation. Then of course, it was close to 1 and the heat hit as well as the ascents. It was painful and we drank a ton of water, all of it that we were carrying, but ultimately a large cloud came, covered up the sun and gave us some relief.

And now we are happily restored in Dayton which seems to be a gem of a town. The first person who spoke to us, an older farmer who reminded me very much of Uncle Pete, told us that "the President probably wouldn't like you two doing that, not buying any gas." The second person we spoke to gave us directions and sold us o.j. and fig newtons. The third person we spoke to told us that Broughtons owned most of the county. Go figure, probably English Broughtons though.

After we explore a bit more and it cools off, we will head about 5 miles down the road to Lewis and Clark S.P. to camp for the night and Saturday into the Tri-Cities area.

August 7 Day 53 Images Pink House Hole, ID to Clarkston, WA

2008-08-08T15:36:00.001-07:00

Leaving Lewiston, ID
(super geek away)

the confluence of Clearwater and Snake Rivers
with a strange new landscape

and into Washington we go

really the landscape is the most foreign we've ever witnessed

and our swimming hole at Chief Timothy State Park

Day 53, Aug. 7 Pink House Hole Campground, ID to Clarkston, WA?

2008-08-07T13:57:00.000-07:00

It rained a little bit during the night, so at some point Andy hopped out to put the rain fly on, but otherwise we woke up this morning sans event, with sore throats and a beautiful view.

We pressed pretty quickly onto Lewiston, about 40 miles, only stopping briefly to pee, put on rain coats, speak to another biker, take off rain coats, and fill water bottles. We did stop at the Clearwater Casino Gas Station, a very strange juxtaposition of this flashy cement place against some very rocky and raw gorgeous country. It was the end of the Nez Perce Indian Reservation.

Lewiston was no sight to see either. Very industrial, hot, and smelly, your entrance into it is of a enormous factory, some dive motels, and a general feeling of desolation. But with a population of 30,000+ it is not to be missed. We didn't find its charming downtown, but did eat at a good salad/soup/sandwich place for lunch called Sage something, where we met Marianne who was so excited for us on our trip and recommended the restaurant highly, as did two other ladies.

Andy chatted it up with the ladies in the restaurant and got the best directions out of them. So now, here we are at the Clarkson Library (on the other side of the Snake River- just like Oregon trail), now in Washington State, and trying to decide whether we will be able to shoot a squirrel for dinner, or whether we should stay in one of these dive motels and shower tonight.

Either way we'll let you know.

In the meantime, we are trying to get back some of our momentum. I am not sure when it happened, but we have felt a little lack luster the past week or so. I guess our bodies and minds are just going through a new phase that I'll call "beat." I have a feeling it will pass before the trip ends and we'll be sad to get off those seats, but in the meantime, we are trying to soak it in and not push too hard. We seemed to get confused about the simplest things in conversation with each other and it actually seems less stressful when we are able to "pontificate" a bit, as opposed to deciding whether to turn left or right.

August 6 Day 52 Images Apgar Campground to Orofino, MT

2008-08-07T13:37:00.000-07:00

Really, can you get better than riding downstream with this?

How about Korean pagoda's in Idaho?

After 100 miles, the landscape changes slightly...

our campsite 2 miles west of Orofino
Pink House Hole Campground

the view from our front porch

Day 52, Aug. 6 Apgar USFS Campground to Orofino, ID

2008-08-07T13:34:00.000-07:00

We awoke refreshed, or tried to tell ourselves that. A quick breakfast of oats and applesauce got us going, and the chill factor seemed to have mostly disappeared. Our neighbor then told us it had been about 104 in Orofino (our destination) yesterday and was expected to be just shy of that today, so apparently no more chill.

The ride the day previous had been a mixture of hot thick winds coming from the nearby desert, and the cool breezes coming off the river and all the adjoining streams that passed down the mountain to the right of us. Today, it was mostly the hot breezes and quite a bit of smoke from nearby wildfires.

The river continued to get wider and we passed two more lodge towns, Lowell and Syringa, before we made it to a town with a post office. Just before coming to Kooskia, the landscape changed again sharply. The surface of the mountains changed from dense forest to dry grass with a few pines and lots of volcanic rock in and out of the river. Our attention was also caught by these zipline car contraptions that crossed the river to people's property and seemed to be their main entrance to and from their houses.

Kooskia was a weirdly quiet town. The road into town was slightly higher then all the residences so you looked down into peoples homes and yards and RVS. We made for the grocery and sat outside watching the Coors and then Budweiser trucks make their deliveries. Andy got another flat in his back tire, so we changed that, and then hoping to make it the next 30 miles to Orofino before the heat got to much like itself, we got back on the road.

This was also where we decided to separate from the great TransAm and finish our ride on our own route through Washington and down into Oregon. I guess we got cabin fever?

Now on the opposite side of the river, we got to stretch out that side of our necks. Unfortunately the traffic got worse and the shoulders actually dimished. Fortunately the river, now the Clearwater, was absolutely gorgeous, clear showing through to beautiful colored round rocks, and jade looking rapids. Most of the ride continued to be just slightly downhill (like the previous days) and although this is a nice break for the legs, it really puts a strain on your hands. Andy's have been vibrating pretty constantly and my right pinky has been pretty numb for several days.

Many folks were tubing down the river, and I don't blame them, because when we got to Orofino around 3:30, it was at least 100 degrees. We went straight for the library there, where their system was somewhat agreeable, but strangely complicated, and ultimately less than accomadating. After some short blogging and researching our route, we got booted off and went in search of grub.

Everything was closed, except a swanky looking place and a pizza joint, so we ended up opting for the pizza joint. It was a good choice. Salad bar and lots of caloric pizza. Both our throats were beginning to hurt. We chalked it up to the smoke inhalation during the larger part of the day. The ice cream parlor was closed, the grocery store's inventory was 75% alcohol, 10% food, and 15% in random shopping carts stashed about, so we got our ice cream fix from the gas station, now only 98 degrees. We head the few miles back down 12 to another USFS campground Pink House Hole, where we got a front row campsite overlooking the river. After setting up we went to dip our feet in the water. It was too cold for me, but Andy braved it for a bit and looked at some of the literature on the region's logging history. Apparently the whole river would be full of logs that the timber companies would just float down. So full you could just walk across them and men would live out of rafts in the middle of all these dead trees sorting out the log jams.

We read and wrote and stared before going to bed. Andy wondered whether anyone had died of starvation while being captivated by staring at a river. Then bed.

August 5 Day 51 Images LoLo Hot Springs, MT to Apgar Campgrounds, ID

2008-08-07T13:16:00.000-07:00

Chuck and Lea at breakfast

i am not sure...
but a helicopter landing on a mountain is cool

yeah Idaho
and super geek

the Lochsa river and route 12
our route the entire state with rivers

Weir hot springs

we hiked a mile through this for the springs

finally Andy finds his people

August 3 Rest Day 6 Images Sula, MT

2008-08-07T13:12:00.000-07:00

from cabin to camp
we are Sula's population

Day 51, Aug. 5, Lolo Hot Springs, MT to Apgar Camground, ID (7 mi. N of Lowell)

2008-08-07T13:10:00.000-07:00

As expected, cold woke us up. We broke down camp as quickly as possible, and hightailed across to the eatery for breakfast. We were the first there and at first we were afraid it wasn't open, but soon enough the friendly waitress got us in with some coffees and the cook had fired up the grill with Guns N Roses wailing in the background. It was a good breakfast.

When we had finished and were ready to go, things just kept happening to prevent us from getting off. Chuck and Leah emerged, so we were able to say goodbye and get our much needed photo. A woman on the highway was ill and a helicopter landed to airlift her out, creatign quite the dust cloud. Chuck said she didn't look good, but didn't look dead. Another woman stopped us to tell us about more hot springs along the way, then got us directions, then Andy got us directions, and so on.

Eventually we got ourselves moving and began the real climb up to Lolo Pass, the Idaho/Montana border. The pass was not too bad. Usually, we're finding, the passes are actually easier than the short sporadic hills. We don't know if this is a mental or physical thing, but it's a thing, that's certain. It was a pretty climb up and out of the trees, and the windy road was supplemented by our winding bikes and we craned our necks to look at everything.

At the top, there was a super nice visitors center with free hot chocolate, good maps, and smart rangers to set us straight with the springs, camping, etc. And we still had only gone about 6 miles.

Then it was downhill, really downhill, and the forest changed immensely from small pine trees, to this dense rich, lush forest of many varieties of pines, cedars, ferns. Just on the other side of the ridge, the rainfall difference was drastic. The road, still route 12, now wound along the side of Lochsa River which was absolutely clear as can be. We stopped at the Devoto Cedar Memorial where the trees were absolutely enormous, hundreds of years old. Then, we stopped to split a reuben at the next "town" another lodge that had antler everything, bear rugs, racoon rugs, moose and elk taxidermies. Enough already, but it was the last thing for 66 miles, so we figured we better take advantage.

The river wound, and wound, and our necks started to stiffen up on the left side from looking at it. The traffic wasn't too bad, but every once in a while a logging truck would whiz by and scare the pants off us.

The hot springs we were looking for was not marked, but fortunately we picked the right turnoff. There was another motorcyclist looking for a waterfall who followed the same steep and scary trail back (we're hiking at this point) to look for either the springs or waterwall. We were the lucky ones and found the hot springs. A pretty decent size pool halfway up the mountain. A newly formed family of an old hippy and clean cut Utahers was already up there, they had just finished building their cob geodome house, but I think the motorcyclist drove them away, because although he was a very nice, well traveled fellow from Missouri, he just could not keep those lips shut, and the first 30 minutes or so were anything but relaxing. After about 4 attempts at goodbye, he finally left, and we made our way down to the freezing river, back up to the tub for a short soak, and then back out to the highway, where we gobbled down some snacks and water. Still 40 miles to go. Oh my. We are not recovering as quickly as we were.

The rest of the ride was, well, long, pretty, and majestic, like the early American painters depict it. We passed a friends of Bill W sign, filled our waters, and made camp by dark. We were ready to stop. I had felt completey insane the last 20 miles and snapped like a twig when Andy through the camera to me. Forgiven, I made dinner in two parts, Lipton Strogonoff and Lipton Spanish Rice (which is just short spaghetti apparently- food scientists need to work harder!), and Andy pitched tent, borrowed our neighbors axe and chopped firewood. Full and exhausted, we went to bed.

August 2 Day 49 Images Bannack, MT to Sula, MT

2008-08-07T13:04:00.000-07:00

going East, young man

biker Mathew, 8,000 miles and going strong

another divide, the last?
we are so confused

August 1 Day 48 Images Twin Bridges, MT to Bannack Stat Park, MT

2008-08-07T12:49:00.001-07:00

Beaverhead Butte

Bannack State Park, First Floor School
Second Floor Masonic Temple

Bannack Town from the Hotel Meade

Barber's Chair in the Saloon
Where the barber shaved during gunfights

As if the area wasn't surreal enough

Day 50, Aug. 4th Sula, MT to Lolo Hot Springs, MT

2008-08-06T16:20:00.000-07:00

We didn't get off quite so early as we hoped. The cold lured us back into the restaurant for breakfast where we split an enormous 4 egg omelet (with some veggies- yay! and the cook liked by haircut- of 12 weeks past cutting). Saying goodbye to surreal Sula, we got back on our bikes to continue our descent out of the mountains.

There were lots of signs in people's yards saying "Stop Zoning," Andy thought it was people against growth, I thought people for it. We still don't know, but anyway, yeah, signs.

Darby was the first town we came to, and boy did it feel like a tourist mecca. Lots of shops that look right out of a Disney western. Probably the antithesis of what the Montanans like. It's a little unfortunate that we have seen decades of the west on television and in movies, so now when we actually see it with our own eyes, it all comes through that filter. Oh well.

Next was Hamilton, where we stopped and groceried ourselves up on the usual day olds, fruit and yogurt. Then Stevensville, which actually seemed like a cute little town and we were all set to use their library, but alas, it was closed. So we split some quiche at the cute cafe across the street and called it even. We had just missed their creamery festival. Very disappointing.

From Stevensville to Lolo we had a bike path to follow almost the entire way, which was very fun and rollercoastery. The only part we didn't there was a ton of awful awful construction, no pavement, dusty, and cones for an obstacle course effect. This fortunately was only about 2 miles. We also met a transamer on a recumbent who is playing 88 pianos on his trip. Follow his fingers at 88pianostour.blogspot.com

We were definitely coming out of the Rockies, the snow caps were disappearing and the meadows seemed to get wider and wider. We saw several hawks, and tried to keep up with them, but they all seemed to be hungrier than we.

Lolo. If it didn't have such a funny name it wouldn't be charming it all. With a pretty big (by our standards) population of 3700 it was nothing with strip and had no library. After mixing with all the Hells Angels departing Missoula, we considered our options of staying there or pressing on, and decided it would be best to go forth. Again, the grocery store meal, and then the 25 miles or so to Lolo Hot Springs.

It was supposed to be a climb, but it hardly felt like it, which was most fortunate, because we were quite tired and ready to be done for the day. It was a very lovely ride, going along route 12 (which wasn't our favorite road shoulder wise, but the traffic wasn't bad). Lewis and Clark markers were to be found everywhere and we saw some more deer and antelope. Still no moose. Much of this forest had fire damage as well.

At some point, like 8, we arrived at Lolo Hot Springs, which isn't a town, but another one of this lodge places. The camping wasn't super cheap, but there weren't really any other options and the hot springs are addictive, so that was that.

2 other bicyclists, Leah and Chuck, a niece, my age, from Arizona and her uncle, a retired economist from Denver, were also camping. They had started in Florence and were heading to Maine. A swell duo. Chuck was the bicyclists and Leah was crazy enough to join him. She hadn't really biked before, but had lived in Sarajevo for a year or so trying to start a gallery, so biking is probably not a challenge. Check on them at romaniellobike.blogspot.com.

They went to eat, and we went to sit in the hot. The springs had been made into a cement pool, but you could see where they had built over the top of the where the rock seeped hot. It was super groovy. After we'd had our fill on that side, we'd run over to the regular pool outside, and then back again, being sure to drink a lot of water. Our tolerance for each seemed to decrease, and around ten, with a bachelorette party warming up in the springs, we left and walked back over to camp with Chuck and Leah, said goodnight and fully expected to go to bed.

I really wanted a beer, so walked back across the street to the bar, met Chuck who had forgotten his swim trunks, and ended up going to get beer and soda together. He very nicely treated.

Back at the site, Leah was having a nightcap with some other folks, Diane and her Holland husband (whose name I forget, ok I never understood it in the first place), and we all ended up joining them. Another camper, a closet smoker, came over in search of a light, and then ended up bringing over some 2 buck chuck for us all to share and enjoy.

It was getting frightfully chilly. The conversation kept us warm and fuzzy for a while, but then our sacks called to us. Enjoying the stars as we frantically ran between bath house and tent, we went to bed happy and chilly, ready to get back in the springs.

Rest Day 6, Aug. 3 in Sula, MT

2008-08-06T16:14:00.000-07:00

We really didn't do anything on this fine day. We breakfasted in their restaurant, perused their odd section of books (from Teddy Bear collecting to Yoga cooking to a few novels of interest), bought 3 for the price of 1, and went about our day.

Oh but I forgot about Oscar. He was a local Montana fellow on his soap box at breakfast, sitting near us. He was pretty much discussing the sometimes cruel identity crisis that Montana currently finds itself in. Much of what he was harping on (in a strangely upbeat way) pertained to Jared Diamond's discussion of the state in his book Collapse. He was sick of the government meddling in the industries of the state, having pretty much (in his view) shut down mining, logging (even preventing it in areas already devastated by fires), hunting- even of predators like wolves, and had forced the state into a dependency on tourism, not really sufficient for most folks. "If you come to Montana, you better bring your money with you."

Reading. Andy finished two books: Kerouac's Tristessa and a Vonnegut rambling. I finished my Alchemist and started on Didion's Year of Magical Thinking.
Laundry.
Talking to the nice set of sisters who run the place with their very smoky voices.
Hot Tub.
Yoga teaching.
Some very bad microwave burritos for lunch.
Lubing our chains.
A ridiculous dinner of more spaghetti with a can of black olives, green beans, and Prego. While preparing this, I had a glance at the can of green beans (our desperate attempt to get some real vegetables after not having any for a few days) for the nutrition facts. Honestly, it had less, significantly, than the pretzels we were eating. Depressing.
Hot Tub.
Sleeping in a tent this night to save some money and hoping the cold morning would get us up early enough to get a start on our Monday.

Day 49, August 2 Bannack State Park, MT to Sula, MT

2008-08-06T15:33:00.001-07:00

Internet access has been spotty. We haven't seen a lot of libraries and when we do they seem to be closed. It actually becomes a little stressful to look for them and time it appropriately with our days ride.

For example...

Our ride to Jackson (Day 48)did not end up happening. After following some of our maps bunk directions and circling through Dillon a few times, we got back on track. The wind however was waiting in full gale force for us.

I won't dwell too much on this next 20 miles, but it wasn't pretty. You feel insane, angry, hurt, helpless. I think we were both trying very hard not to say anything because when you speak it automatically sounds snappy, so you just bear it. There is no grinning.

Two other local pink clad lady bikers passed us, but on the otherside of the pass, they seemed as beat as we were. Just as you approach the top of the pass, the wind, as if it wasn't killer already, picks up.

After some munching, we decided that rather then press on to Jackson and be miserable for another however many hours, we ought to stay at our saviour of a state park: Bannack, a short four miles off route, with the wind at our backs. Hurrah. One of the pink ladies lived right next to the park and offered help if we needed it. They were both riding back to Dillon, then driving home (to ranch and Jackson, respectively) Good for them.

Bannack is the strangest state park I have ever been in. It is actually a ghost mining town that has a pretty bloody history that started with the corrupt Road Agents and ended with the Vigilante executing their sheriff and deputy.

Despite the town's creepy history, the camping was quite nice and full of nice campers. We met Tommi and Jack from Missoula who were willing to split some firewood and then gave us some drinks. A local favorite: Moose Drool, brewed in Missoula, was my beverage. They also said they had trouble getting over the pass with their trailer and thought we looked like we were doing a pretty good job (whether this is true or not I don't know). Another MT woman came over and offered us some starter chips (I would just like to say this is before we had actually tried starting the fire). We both relaxed in the clear creek instead of showering and then cooked our backpackers kitchen meal.

So in the morning, it was was the usual frigid, but we made some oats and got off pretty early to try to beat the afternoon wind. We stopped constantly to take off clothes, pee, remove another layer. We just couldn't seem to get any momentum going. We also met Doug, an eastbound 3-wheeled recumbent biker, probably retired, who had started way up in Vancouver and was heading for Charleston South Carolina.

In Jackson, we stopped for our "real" breakfast at Rose's Cantina. The food is Montana is real good, but, as we've read on some signage "if you're in a hurry, you're in the wrong town." That said, it probably took us too long, but we felt better afterwards, well I did. I think Andy's chicken fried steak was a wee bit heavy.

The area was full of lots of meadows. Hay farming country, surrounded by beautimous mountains, that were pretty hazed over, but we still enjoyed the views and the cows chewing cud. We get lonely without them.

In Wisdom, another 20 miles or so, we stopped at the grocery to get supplies for dinner and breakfast and get some strange concoction for the now. In our time there we met Matthew, a very freckled and tanned, lanky, 50-something, who was already in his 8000nth mile of biking. He had started in St. Louis, but has gone all over the west since. His meal was a can of beans and some tortillas. He said he had taken a week off to work a bike race in FL and had gained 15 lbs in the week. We must take this as a warning. His blog is longhaultrucking on crazyguyonabike, but we can't find it at the moment.

Anyway, we left to go over Chief Joseph's Pass, our last (we think) continental divide. The way to get to the pass was much more difficult than the actual pass, so much so that we decided to take a rest day when we got to Sula. Maybe it was that knowledge that helped on the pass, and the fact that the temperature dropped as clouds formed and rain passed near and around us.

Once on the top, we saw the sign for Welcome to Idaho and went the other way, down the mountain, which was a much more severe grade than we had on the way up (there are some benefits for doing east to west). We layered back up and put on our rain gear, not so much for the rain, but the wind on this 7% grade was super super strong, so much so that we did not have to really brake during this 13 mile descent.

Andy got a flat on the way down (I am always secretly grateful when HE gets them and not me) and we stopped to fix it just a few miles before Sula. Of course, then it started to rain and the cold started to sink into our wee little bones.

Sula, it turns out, like many towns in our future, is not a town really, but a campground/restaurant/generalstore/gasstation, all in one. To us, although everything was closed, and the lady who owned the campground had to come out in her grandma bathrobe to give us the key to our cabin, we thought it perfect for a day off, with no distractions. Although the promised hot springs was a hot tub, but hey we'll take it.

Since it was cold and rainy, we opted for the cabin the first night, which was really just a bed, but oooh the sheets felt soo nice and soft. After making our spaghetti and tunafish dinner, having Matthew stop by on his way to Hamilton (another 33 miles or so- crazy! even if it was downhill), we got into the tub, showered, and slept like babies after our 97 miler of a day. And the Sabbath was comin!

July 31 Day 47 Images Gallatin NF, MT to Twin Bridges, MT

2008-08-01T12:07:00.001-07:00

with left over trees in the lake

Andy fighting for air on our way up
still only half way

in the middle of this valley we had our 1st Montana Flat

Virginia City reminds us very much of Virginia

Day 48, August 1, Twin Bridges to Jackson, MT

2008-08-01T11:57:00.001-07:00

Today has been pretty uneventful, thus far. Andy had a heck of a time getting me out of my "burrito" state this morning, but eventually I arose by the time he pretty much had everything else together. Thanks babe.

We went over to the Blue Arrow Cafe/Saloon, where everything was blue and reminded me a bit of a ladies' powder room that had been decorated in the late 70s. The breakfast was good however, and we ended up talking to a skinny, hunched over guy from Denver who was up here fishing, but seemed pretty interested in our trip between his various cell phone calls.

We got on our way about 8:30 and have now made it 30 miles to Dillon (still 50 to go). We went to a most majestic Safeway for their incredible lunch specials and eventually decided on some yogurt, a HUGE submarine sandwich, bananas, and a quart of OJ.

The town is pretty big, about 6000 people, and seems like a pretty swell place, but so far we have seen about 5 casinos, and are not sure what that is all about.

We've got some serious climbs for the remainder of the day, but hopefully in Jackson we will get to relax in their hot springs which comes out at 140 degrees! Fortunately, they mix it with the pool water first. PHew!

All for now, until next week probably. We hopefully will be in/near Missoula MT (where there is a Hells Angels gathering) by Sunday night.

LOVE to all! Looking forward to seeing all west coast parties!

July 30 Day 46 Images Madison, WY to Gallatin NF, MT

2008-08-01T11:47:00.001-07:00

a bald eagle in a dying tree surveying the Madison river
(causing a traffic jam with all us tourists)

West Yellowstone, MT
(home to the tourists)

Hebgen Lake courtesy of an earthquake and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers
what a collaborative effort

Becca relaxes alongside Beaver Creek, our evening's camp

Andy surveying his day

Day 47, July 31, Gallatin NF to Twin Bridges, MT

2008-08-01T11:38:00.000-07:00

Feeling pretty well rested, but with a long day ahead of us, we shivered ourselves into a ready state, then went to eat breakfast at the campground's cafe.

The breakfast was really good. Everything actually tasted like its respective self with flavor to boot. And we could see the river out the window to our right and the fly fishing gear (big feathery pelts and things- so not knowledgeable on this subject) on our left.

Our first few miles took us by Earthquake Lake (formed from the 1959 Earthquake- you can still see all the dead trees in the water and where part of the mountain just collapsed damming up the Madison River), and continued to take us down through the Madison River Valley, downhill along lots of ranches.

We stopped about 30 miles in, in a place called Cameron (just a PO and one store that is the Saloon, Cafe, Grocery, and Jail) for some OJ and yogurt, but they only had pudding, so we ate that with some bananas and granola and then set off for our next destination, 27 miles out, in Virginia City. We'd gotten about 5 when I heard the sound of a *#*V*(#! FLAT. But we just laughed, patched it, and got back on our merry way. We had been warned that MT was having a high wind warning for the next few days and we really wanted to beat it. We passed through Ennis, and then did a Uturn into our big climb for the day, about 10 miles to summit. We had to stop several times, and at one scenic point we talked to two fellows from NY. One of whom was doing a 19 day, 2000 mile bike trip from Canada to Mexico, but was taking the day off due to an injury (how could you not have an injury biking 150 miles a day?) and the other was accompanying his wife who was also biking the trip, while he tooks time to enjoy the towns, museums, and have (in my opinion) a better time.

We finally made it up over the hill (pretty mild compared to the surrounding ones) and over to Virginia City. A wonky little historic town that definitely had a VA kind of feel to it, it was one of many old mining towns we would continue through. We went to the library, had some lunch, and then scooted ourselves over to the homemade ice cream place that had the machine out front. Andy had cookies and cream and I had licorice, which is a flavor I will sorely miss.

It was 5 when we left our little town, and we had 30 more miles to go. Fortunately they seemed fairly kind, and took us through 3 more little mining towns, all with varying character. One of which, Sheridan,m had just survived a major freak thunderstorm that blew out lots of old handblown windows, tore up vinyl siding, and just made a general mess of the place. The countryside continued to be that vast big sky stuff, although it was surreal with 100s of sprinklers watering everything in sight, until we arrived in Twin Bridges, where we set up camp for free at the Fairgrounds there. We had some difficulty figuring out what to do with our food and everything since Yellowstone had scared us into thinking EVERYTHING was a potential hazard. We caught a few glimpses of the rodeo trials for the upcoming county fair and then were off for dinner.

Totally beat, but full from our soup and salad bar trip at the Wagon Wheel Cafe, we somehow made it back to camp, brushed our teeth, and hit the hay.

Day 46, July 30, Madison (Yellowstone, WY) to Gallatin NF, Montana

2008-08-01T11:23:00.001-07:00

Waking up was a bit of a struggle, but necessary.

We said goodbye and goodluck to some of the other bikers at our campsite, ate some oatmeal that had survived another night without bear attack, and set off for our last 16 miles of Yellowstone. I don't think either of us thought we would be stopping, but we did, at least 4 times, along with about 40 cars who had just entered the park through the West Gate, to strain and stare to get glimpses of the bald eagles who were perching, swooping, and of course, eyeing.

Feeling more American by the minute and very satisfied to have seen this majestic US creature, we exited the park into West Yellowstone, Montana. Definitely a tourist town, we dropped A's bike off at the woman-run bike shop that served delicious coffee (certainly the best smelling bike shop we've ever entered- go chicks!), then headed to the library to do some research on ending our trip, got kicked off there pretty quick and went to an internet cafe of sorts, ate some tasty slow food lunch from Tubby's Bakery, hit the grocery, where we ran into 3 bicyclists (from New Hampshire and CO) that we had camped with the night before who were ending their trip there, then back to the bike shop. We found Jay there, sipping his coffee, and doing what we have often done, trying to cut miles off of the TransAm. He ultimately decided to skip Montana, and head across Idaho directly to Baker City so that he could eventually ride down to San Fran before his time was up. So we said our goodbyes (it is a little sad to leave the familiar on this trip) and headed off into our first Montana vistas.

The first 10 miles were slightly downhill, but soon we turned into the wind and the winds. Montana is probably the most accurately described state I have been through, and the beautiful lakes, fields of cattle, and vast low-lying (seemingly so) mountains make for a grand view. Our route took us by Hegben Lake which butts right up against the mountains, which began to interlock and overlap like finger joints as we approached the tip of this massive lake.

You start to see the juxtaposition of agriculture and tourism in the state even in these first few miles, sometimes they seem to be in harmony- everyone likes to fly fish, and sometimes they seem to butt heads.

We were pretty tired, so when we came upon a campsite with showers (it had been since Dubois) and a cafe for breakfast the following day, we decided to end our day even though we had only gone about 40 miles.

We camped right by the Madison River. I did some much needed yoga, Andy went down to the lake and did some writing, then we cooked our dinner of Chinese noodles, jiffy pop, bananas, and bagged pink salmon. Bed called out to us, so after exploring the banks of the river a bit with some ice cream (of course!) and showering, we said goodnight to all and to all a good night!

July 29 Day 45 Images Colter Bay, WY to Madison, WY

2008-08-01T11:21:00.000-07:00

Breakfast with the Tetons

and our guests

we have sort of fell in love with the Tetons

Jay enjoying Moose Falls, Yellowstone Park

and so is Becca

Becca on rock's edge over Lewis Lake River Canyon

the dark spot in the field is the bear
about as close as we want to get

Brian & Jean, color coordinated down to their socks

five musical fellows touring america
with a broken instrument or two

how many divides? we've lost count

late visit to Old Faithful

July 28 Day 44 Images Dubois, WY to Colter Bay Village, WY

2008-07-31T14:39:00.001-07:00

Pinnacle Butte, 11,000+

another Divide
we aren't sure if we are atlantic or pacific

the Tetons appearing the haze

prime real estate

an hour of riding, the Tetons still a haze away

a scenic overlook, apparently the haze is the day

Becca celebrates our 3000th mile

celebrating the day with Vance and Steve

July 27 Day 43 Images Lander, WY to Dubois, WY

2008-07-31T14:16:00.001-07:00

Day 45, July 29th Colter Bay (Grand Teton), WY to Madison Campground (Yellowstone)

2008-07-31T14:04:00.000-07:00

The night passed sans bear attacks... yay! and we were up bright and early with the cold weather. I guess that is just going to be how it is from here on out. Vance was up doing his stretches in his super cool yellow and red warm up suit with gloves and hat to top it off. We were much inspired.

Our other two mates were still slumbering, but we headed on back to the grocery to get some breakfast as it opened, and then take our snacks down to the beach and get our mountain fix.

We loaded up on cheap discounted eats, coffee, yogurt and some other nonsense. To our greatest pleasure, the Tetons were crisp and clear this morning and we spent almost 1.5 hours just taking them in.

Around 9, we decided that alas we must move on, so we hopped on our bikes to get our butts over to Yellowstone. The first part of the ride had its challenges, but we were still enthralled with the mountain/water scape on our left, and then viewing the enormous amount of damage still evident from the 1988 fire. It just amazed us that dead trees, some of which only were a hollow charcoal shell, could stand for 20 years. Amazing.

Our buddy Jay caught up with us just before we entered the Yellowstone, and I don't think we had even gone a mile when we stopped at "Moose Falls" where we lingered, dipping our feet and heads in, and just trying to absorb the beauty. As Andy later noted, these things are so beautiful you just want to be a part of them, and so sometimes engage in slightly dangerous activities you might not otherwise do. We didn't step on a geyser or anything though.

Moving on, we struggled to keep pedaling, between the small shoulders, gorgeous canyons, rivers, lakes, scary RVS and wildlife, it was hard to keep the momentum going. There was also about 5 miles of gravel road construction that was awfully unpleasant, but we might have actually been making better time through there just based on our adrenalin.

We stopped at Grant Village for some overpriced grub, bought another SD card with our camera (thank you Christie!), and I got a flat. So surprising. I took this one hard though, and it was super annoying. There was another Steve (from Oklahoma) at this place. A jovial fellow biking north through the parks and doing it at an awesome pace, like 10 to 30 miles a day, and just enjoying himself. Nice dude. Also there was another motorized bicyclist. We guess we'll take him too.

Getting late in the afternoon, we still had quite a ways to go, and some serious passes to climb. I was kind of upset from the flat (man I am such a girl) and being grumpy, when, we saw a bear! Granted it was pretty far away, but that is probably where it should be, and its wild presence helped get us over those climbs. We passed over the Continental Divide twice, again, and met 7 bikers. The first were a couple from Delaware on a tandem with matching yellow everything, even socks with sandals. We stopped Jeanne and Brian mid-climb, which they seemed to sort of appreciate, but it was awfully hard for them to push off with their tandem and trailer. You can check their progress at http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/teamhanson08.

We also met a group of five guys who all were carrying a musical instrument, from guitar to melodica to shakers. Very cool guys. They are sponsored by Clif Bar and have a van following them, that only carries their clif bars. We were a little disappointed they didn't offer us any, but we liked them just fine anyway. They are also making a movie about the trip, they're doing 7500 miles, or planning that anyway. Check out www.bikingthestates.com.

So that all took some time, and then there were the Cascade Falls, and by the time we got to Old Faithful, it was already 7pm. We split some chunky soup out of a can and a variety of other things as we waited for the eruption. A nice family behind us got us back to a better mood, especially as their daughter tried to figure out how to fit our bikes in their car to drive us the last 16 miles to Madison (we're not lazy, just getting dark and do not want to be eaten by wild animals). Around 8, Old Faithful blew her major steam, and we rushed off, really pushing ourselves that last bit. The terrain coorperated. It was pretty flat from then on and downhill. We were sad to not have time to look at the additional crazy blue and orange sulfur smelling geysers that look like the moon or Mars, but camping beckoned. We hope to return someday.

We made it to camp just as it really got pitch dark, just around 9, having seen another coyote in the middle of the road. We got set up for fairly cheap (for Yellowsonte that is). The cool thing is they have biker/hiker rates for camping. We set up tent, bear bagged or stuff, and went straight to sack.

July 25 Day 42 Images Lamont, WY to Lander, WY

2008-07-30T11:43:00.001-07:00

Ellsbeth, just pass the Muddy Gap
her partner Brooke pulled up late

"Elk poop" mountains

Looking out over the Beaver Rim

Wyomings' landscape, looms large and vast
with these interesting diagonal uprises

July 26th Rest Day Images

2008-07-30T11:30:00.001-07:00

Main Street Books (and community gathering center)
our saving graces (Jim and Sue, Emma reading on the job)

Landers' locals on a day tandam trip

the amazing city park
our resting spot and yoga studio

Day 44, July 28, Dubois, WY to Colter Bay (Grand Teton NP)

2008-07-30T11:23:00.000-07:00

The morning was quite chilly, so we moved fast, wrapped ourselves up in all available clothing, including turban esque headwraps. We swore to invest in some gloves and hats as we took down our tent. We set off for a breakfast at the local diner, resisted all the donuts their, and then headed across the street to grocery store.

On our way out we saw Jay again, who, in his vagabond fashion, had camped about 20 miles back after the wind had also eaten him alive. Together we started our trek over Togwotee pass, another continental divide crossing, and according to our maps about a 25 mile climb. The climb was gentler than we expected, but it still exhausted us, and we were more than thrilled to get to the top, away from the tight curves and teeny shoulders, and into a more Sound of Music view with lots of pastures, colorful wildflowers, and downhill.

Jay really kicks those downhills, but we would eventually catch up. There was lots of construction on the way down and wind to slow us down, which we appreciate, because 40 mi an hour on our bikes just isn't our style. On the way down we met a guy who had come up through the deserts of Idaho on his bike and was most excited to have the wind at his back for getting over the pass.

We took an unexpected ride in a car for 3 miles (disgraceful I know) but the DOT insisted, and so the 3 of us were piloted dangerously in the back of their pickup. We passed the place we had wanted to stop and get some grub, but their was no way we were heading back up that mountain.

When we got dumped, Jay again rushed down the hill, and left us to meander our way down. The very very hazy Teton range began to reveal itself to us, and as we approached we kept taking little gasps. Unfortunately the "towns" also became more resortish and expensive. The place we had lunch was overpriced and we were underfed. Their was only lettuce in my caesar chicken wrap, not good news for a hungry biker, but we eventually got over it, especially when another 8 miles down, we were able to send back 5.5 pounds worth of stuff to my lucky parents.

Feeling lighter we made our way to the park entrance, where we were greeted with a $24 entrance charge. The grumbling over this was soon forgotten as we got closer to our destination and the Teton range began to unfold. What an incredible site. Everyone must go. The end.

The camping was cheap comparatively ($5) for cyclists and hikers and away from the car camping, which was nice. After storing everything that could possibly smell like food in our assigned bear box (except perhaps our mouths), we went in search of food ourselves and some more Teton views. The grocery in Colter Bay proved to be the most resonable, so we had a very eclectic picnic dinner down by Jackson Lake next to the Tetons. We were amazed how small the Tetons actually look sitting on the other side. They also were still quite hazy and almost looked like a ghost range.

After eating, we took a dip in the chilly clear water of the lake, and then laid out on the the beaches' pebbles to dry off and absorb this amazing day where we had reached our 3000 mile mark. Which of course called for ice cream. So after we got chilly enough that we were willing to leave our priceless view, we got coffee and cream from the grocery. We remet Jay there, as well as Vance, a 50 something cyclist, who definitely knew what he was doing.

We offered to share out site with him, so he joined us for our ride back. Then Steve, whom we had met a few days earlier, appeared from the campsite next to ours and invited us to join him around his campfire. Vance and I shared a can of Steve's Miller lite. Vance is a German Lutheran pastor from Minnesota (his wife is Norweigan and everything Garrison Keillor says is true). Jay joined us a short bit later and it was a very very chummy evening. We went to bed quite happy.

July 26th 5th Day of Rest in Lander, WY

2008-07-30T11:04:00.000-07:00

Since Andy's cellphone had most likely spent the evening in the movie theater, we decided it would be best to wait till it opened, or till we could find some chap to open it, to set off. So we resigned ourselves to pretty much enjoying a day off, since afternoons tend to be trickier for riding in this climate.

Our first morning stop was the bookstore/coffee shop on Main Street, where we met some super nice people who helped us with our woes, served us good coffee, and let us use their cellphones. Kathy, the owner, whose daughter lives in Portland and son in Manhattan, got us the numbers for the owner of the theater, etc. And Emma, the 20s barista let Andy use her cellphone over and over to make some calls. We also met Jim and Sue Downham. A retired English teacher, Jim gave us the rundown on Lander, giving us the impression that it is the blue dot in a mostly red state. At some point Andy left and regained control of his phone. Hurray! Emma's mom also came in, she writes grants for the NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership School) which has a headquarters here. She offered her house and laundry facilities to us, which we didn't take, mostly because we were lazy and didn't want to bike the 3 miles out of town. Our loss.

We made our way around town. Ate good food for lunch, explored the various sites, including the gallery that connects to the town's foundry. The mother of the foundry owners, Trudy, a very sweet lady, was babysitting the gallery and showed us around the western oriented bronzes. She gave Andy the manager's name and number and they ended up having a long telephone conversation. Always looking for job opportunities. Apparently, in the future, we may move to Lander, WY. Who knows?

Went back to the park, reset up our tent. Taught Andy a yoga class, where I made him open his mouth really wide and resplit his lip open. Still, he seemed to feel better about it, and I definitely needed the practice. Then we went to eat dinner at Tony's pizza, where our entire conversation consisted of naming euphemisms. We pretty much exhausted the town's restaurants while we stayed their, although I think we missed the Maverick Lounge and the Folklore Cafe.

The winds were picking up back at the park, so we staked everything down, and crashed, with dreams of living in Lander. Ahhh.

Day 43, July 27 Lander, WY to Dubois, WY

2008-07-30T10:43:00.000-07:00

The night passed uneventfully. When we rose, we met fellow biker, Jay, a VT architecture student, doing the the TransAm going west solo, and with the least amount of gear of anyone we've met. The kid doesn't even have a tent. He just has a bivvy (sp?) sac for his sleeping bag. He also sometimes rides over a hundred miles a day, on a double. Crazy.

The three of us wandered down to the grocery store, Mr. D's, to get some food for the day and have breakfast. Andy's lip is split open, he's getting a sty in his eye, and his glands are swollen, so we loaded him up on cranberry juice, with supplements of day old pastries, bananas, peaches, breakfast burrito and coffee.

Jay escaped to explore Lander a bit more, and we rode off towards Fort Washakie through the Indian Reservation. Apparently Chief Washakie was a smart fellow and saved the best land for his tribe (the Shoshone I believe) because there was more water on this land than we had seen in many many miles. The houses looked a bit like a shantytown though and some just looked totally abandoned. Their were also several knicknack stores which we refrained from entering.

From their we went to Crowheart, through hot desert, following the Butte River along some pretty interesting rock formations.

If only we had decided to stop at Crowheart and camp behind their gas station. The first 45 miles had taken us a little under 4 hrs, the next 25 miles took us 5 hrs. The Wind River became our guide and it was so aptly named. We though Kansas had wind, but that was nothing compared to this. In almost our lowest gear, occasionally standing up even going downhill, we passed beautiful striped red bluffs, herds of antelope, and happy people driving in cars. We were desperately trying to enjoy ourselves, but we both would have hopped into the back of a pickup truck for the remainder of the ride, if it had been offered.

We stopped once at a fishing inlet on the river to get off the road and soak our feet in the chilly stream. Our toes did not catch anything, but some of the stress seemed to flow outwards. We took a million pictures, because any excuse to stop was welcome.

We did, ultimately make it to Dubois. The Cowboy Cafe seemed like the place to eat as it was absolutely packed. After briefly waiting for a table, we plopped down in our chairs. Another older couple was also waiting for a table, and we offered them to share ours if they wished. They accepted, and our ensuing conversation totally rejuvenated us. Dougald and Virginia, currently of Northern California, had just celebrated their 25th anniversary with all their kids and grandkids (a sort of a Brady Bunch gathering) up in Yellowstone and had a blast. He is a retired biologist, although I don't think you can actually retire from that, and she a retired psychotherapist (which you probably never really retire from either). They gave us the rundown on the NPs and inspired us with their energy and tales. The food at the cafe was also really, really good. A little pricey for our budget, but the maple pecan pork chops and the toffee pecan pie (apparently we wanted pecans) were scrumptious.

Our plan had been to head another 9 miles up to this bicycle hostel, but the thought of getting back into a yelling match with the wind did not appeal, so we shelled out the $22 for the KOA in town, which was more than satisfactory. We were able to do laundry, swim, take showers, and sleep peacefully surrounded by a moat of warrior RVs.

July 23 Day 41 Images Saratoga, WY to Lamont, WY

2008-07-26T11:40:00.000-07:00

Sunrise over our camp

Sunrise over Saratoga Lake, upclose
Photos do not do justice

Clint heading east

'nuff said? the sign glittered
Andy loves glitter

Sinclair, WY, the west's most modern refinery
it is the town

Another Continental Divide, hohum, a little anti-climatic

Wyoming begins to open up
over the edge, a high plateau reveals miles upon miles

Mountains on the high plataeu, a slight rainbow on the right
Experience definitely trumps photos

Dinner at Grandma's Cafe
service is better when it's open

our camp at the cafe

Grandma's dog checking on us

Day 42, July 25, Lamont, WY to Lander, WY

2008-07-26T11:23:00.000-07:00

The night in Lamont was crazily windy. Considering that we were right up against the cafe, we were very surprised how much we were whipped around. Since we were on the sidewalk, we hadn't been able to stake down the tent, and so the poles scratched the sidewalk in a sort of inhuman way and the tent kept trying to roll over us.

We did get up pretty well rested though, must have been soft concrete, packed up quickly and headed into Grandma's for a breakfast. The place itself had some charm, with round tables and booths piled high with various condiments.

Grandma was not exactly who we expected. She was quiet, perhaps a little gruff, unmakeuped, had a hard time walking, I guess she looked like she had fathered sons who worked the oil rigs and dropped toolboxes on their sons' heads (story from grandson).

Her breakfast was good though and after about 4 cups of coffee and a similar number to her little girls and boys room, we set off at 7 on our 92 mile day towards Lander.

Our first delight was a male antelope eating just beside the road, just before we headed over the continental divide for the 4th time on our trip (less and less exciting each time).

We met two girl cyclists about 15 miles into our trip, Ellsbeth and Brook, who were doing the National Parks cycle tour. They were family childhood friends and seemed to have perhaps had enough close time together on the tour. They gave us some good tips on Lander though and what to expect, or rather not to expect from the places on the way there.

Brook had mentioned some very cool rock formations coming up that looked like "pile up elk poop", we're glad we're not the only ones losing our class, and these were very accurate descriptions, also sort of like drip sand castles. Split Rock was what it was called I think.

We went through Jeffrey City, a ghost town almost, only the bar and cafe was open still. When it was a uranium mining town I guess there were close to 4000 people living there, now just about 50. We had some oj and toast and our own snacks at their business, and set off again into the big open WY, since there wasn't much else to distract us.

At Sweetwater junction (a rest stop 20 miles further) we ran into 3 other bikers, a slightly skiddish LaVerne from Indiana doing the Parks tour also, an Australian smoker named Scott doing the TransAm East, and Steve, a pony-tailed late 40s smoker going west, who called us "monsters" when we said we did 60-90 mi usually. We do not consider ourselves monsters under any circumstances. The fact that anyone does this smoking kills me, or them. Who knows.

A bit refreshed, but still with numb fingers and sore seats, we pushed on to the last 40 miles, of which we were expecting some great downhills. The downhills were great, and the views that went with them, although there were lots of strange tarred ruts in the road that kept throwing our tires as we braked down the 6% grades for 5 miles at a time. But wow, this route was definitely the scenic byway to be on.

But then, there was a flat. Mine of course, but the other tire at least :=/ So grumpily we fixed it as a thunderstorm sort of seemed to be side stepping us. I realized it was still coming for us though, as Andy got my tire back together while I tried to convince him to abandon the project for minute, suit up for rain, and get away from our metal bikes on the other side of the road as lightning approached and we were definitely the tallest things around. When he saw the wall of water coming right for us, he acquiesed and we hopped onto the other side of the road, crouched down a few yards apart from each other and let the storm come. It came with hail that hurt and we quickly put our helmets. We kept our backs to the storm and watched the pelting hail, the surviving sunflowers, and the lightning.

It wasn't too long before it stopped, we got our now mud covered stuff back together and set off for Lander, now 20 miles in our future.

Some good hills, but mostly downhills awaited us, as well as firey red cliffs, streams, antelope, and striped rock forms.

We were still pooped when we got to Lander. We set up camp in their gorgeous city park with super tall trees, lush grass ?, and a creek, headed to the indoor pool for a quick swim and lukewarm showers, and then got us some fantastic grub for dinner. The town was a pretty cool place and we constantly beat around the idea of staying a day.

The movie theater was playing "Wanted" with Jolie, MacAvoy, and Freeman so we indulged our need for pop culture and went in. The movie (super violent, but entertaining) was a pretty big shock to our system and we realized what a cultural gap we will need to bridge when we return to "normalicy."

Riding back to camp in the pitch black, we were up later (11) than we had been in many many weeks, we hung our food, and went to bed.

Not five minutes passed before Andy realized that his phone was not with us and had probably fallen out at the movie. I could not stop laughing.

We got out. Looking vainly around the park in the dark, and then decided to go to bed. Realizing that it would have to be dealt with in the morning and that we were officially out of touch.

(but don't worry- his phone has since been recovered)

July 22 Day 40 Images Walden, CO to Saratoga, WY

2008-07-26T11:13:00.001-07:00

Exiting Colorado, beginning "Elk Poop" Mountain forms

Photos simply do not do justice

Becca finally waking up as we enter Wyoming

Becca soaking in the North Platte river
behind her, through the mud is one of the hot springs

Most popular gathering spring to the right in the image
receiving 117 degree water from the spring behind me

Day 41 July 24th Saratoga, WY to Grandma's Cafe, Lamont, WY

2008-07-26T10:58:00.000-07:00

We got up early, broke down camp, shook out our wet stuff, made oatmeal and set off for a 75 mile day.

The morning was pretty uneventful, although we did get a biker to stop, Clint, who ended up being the most chatty chap we've met on the trip and had numerous tales of biking adventures and advice that we should take. After pulling away, we stopping in Walcott for a quick OJ break, and then got onto the interstate for 15 miles (not too bad considering the wide shoulder, but still not our favorite experience.) That ended in Sinclair, home of Sinclair gas and the finest oil refinery in the west. What a contraption it was! Just the largest mess of piping I have ever beheld and so fragrant. Andy was afraid to take a close up picture thinking they might come and take our camera away (such a conspiracy theorist). In any case, we pedaled our way through there pretty quick, mailed a Kansas postcard to Andy's bro Dennis (sorry Den), and got off to Rawlins pretty quick. The water we had from our campsite had tasted just digusting, so we were pretty dehydrated by the time we got there.

Not the most majestic of towns, Rawlins has the state penitentary and the gas and some other things, but not a real pretty place. The library was great though and we set up there for an hour (trying to ignore the masochistic teenager who was talking on her cellphone to about 8 different people about her various boy problems, including jail time). Then we got kicked off (although the teenager didn't) and went to eat at the historic Rawlins house buffet (just a dirty stucco house, but the inside was fancy.) Two tiny Asian women were our hosts (not another soul in the joint) and their food, from lo mein to mac n cheese to macaroons, was actually excellent and we filled up.

While we were sitting their the wind picked up quite a bit and when we went outside it picked up even more, throwing sand in our faces and rain, so we ran back to the library, where we parked ourselves for another couple of hours waiting for it to pass and getting our blog stuff done.

When we left, my bike, surprise surprise, had a flat. So we fixed that, and then got a move on to the discount Mennonite grocery store where we stocked up on dry goods for a few days for $8. Sweet. Then we committed ourselves to making it the 33 miles to Lamont where we could camp at Grandma's cafe.

The ride seemed pretty easy with our head and hearts in it and we got breathtaking pictures, saw some antelope (oh we saw a coyote the day before), and made our way into real desert.

Grandma's cafe was the only thing in Lamont, and a real big truck stop.

The pictures are worth a thousand words, but it was just a big oil rig town and all this equipment was piled up, next to trash, dilapadated buildings, the cafe, a house and some trailers.

Grandson came over to us on his ATV as we were cooking our food on some ground up asphalt, and talked our ear off until we went to bed. He was a 14 yr old red headed kid with a flat top buzz and hankering for ATV racing and killing coyotes. We had a lot in common.

We set up camp on the sidwalk (the flatest place) and went to bed.

July 22 Day 39 Images Hot Sulphur Springs to Walden

2008-07-26T10:54:00.001-07:00

Rainbow Greenlight and his traveling science/roots/fungi gathering van

Panarama attempt (right side) heading up to Willow Creek Pass

Panarama attempt (left side) heading up to Willow Creek Pass

Second Contintental Divide Crossing, back to the east at 9,600+ ft.
Andy in his weird super hero outfit

Panarama (right side)of North Park County
Ute tribal valley, 30 mile diameter

Panarama (middle)of North Park County
Ute tribal valley, 30 mile diameter

Panarama (left side)of North Park County
Ute tribal valley, 30 mile diameter

Day 40 July 23rd Walden, CO to Saratoga, WY

2008-07-24T13:56:00.000-07:00

The night proved to be quite a stormy one. The wind whipped our tent
around and rain came in a little bit under the fly, managing to drench
my cellphone and permanently delete my connection to the outside world
(so please email me your phone number if you haven't already:
ouicollaborative@gmail.com is fine- probably won't get a new phone for
a while). The diaper rash cream seems to be working like a charm for
Andy though andBurts' Bees smells so charming.

So a little more distant, we headed back to the Moose Creek Cafe for a light breakfast of yogurt and fruit. Kiwis in CO? ok.
Then a mile down the road to stock up on some much needed groceries for
the day, since there is nothing before we camp again really.

The
air smells like sage so strongly from the fresh rain, it almost burns
your lungs when you inhale deeply, as we were doing to pass out of the
beautiful Ute valley. The rock formations started to change and become
more bulbous and red as we passed out of CO and into WY. Immediately
there were no more trees, but Wyoming looked so majestic and open, it
invited us right in. About 5 miles into it we were so glad to have a
huge cloud follow us with its shade for a bit. The day started to warm
up quite a bit. We were lucky enough to have a bit of a tailwind and we
were both starting to feel like real people again, so we did the first
50 in less than 5 hours. (Good for us). We stopped briefly in
Riverside, WY, but we were totally digging the wind at our backs, so we
quickly set off again. We were also hoping to get toSaratoga for their hot springs and library pretty quick.

But
as it happens, the winds usually change midday, and so they were in our
face pretty quickly for the afternoon, not too bad though. Great
shoulders and scenery and trying to stop a total of 9 eastbound
travellers to talk (we couldn't get but one to slow down and say hi-
don't know what that was about) kept us distracted enough from the
winds. We rolled down intoSaratoga at about 3pm, but the library was
already closed for the day. Giving us time for other chores, we scooted
ourselves over to the laundry mat and got rid of some much needed
smells and stains.

At the mat, we met a lady (whose name is
written down somewhere) who was super sweet and offered to drive our
bikes back east to upstate NY. Although the locations don't work out
perfectly, we were very touched by the offer. She has a house in
Antwerp, NY that used to belong to her brother who was very sadly
killed in Iraq. She seemed to have at least somewhat made her public
peace with this. This was the first person I had met whose loved one
had been killed there though, and it was quite a sobering moment.

After our clothes had been revived (although they all have funny bleaching marks on them from our camelbaks), we decided it was time to revive our bodies.

The
hot springs were tucked just a few blocks away by the river and free
and very natural. We had been told that the temperature of the water
out of the ground was 117 F. We thought we were pretty tough, but
dipped a toe in and found out otherwise. So we explored the river first
and talked to some nice hairy folks from Alabama who were pretty
knowledgeable on the secrets of the hot springs. The spring dumps and
the river and mixes so it was spotty, but then across and through some
mud was a slightly less intimidatingly hot pool.

Andy was first
to brave the hot spring and returned lobster red and ready for some
cool water. We both eventually made our way there several times (it was
pretty addicting actually- although you have to stay perfectly still or
else it just scorches!) and struck up several conversations with a pair
of very tall LeslieNeilson looking motorcyclists, whose names we never
got, but we'll call Honda and BMW. They had been on a tour up through
the Natl Parks we were heading too and gave us some good rundowns.

Feeling much better, although a bit dehydrated, we showered and headed into town to eat some grub. The Lazy River Cantina
was our pick for the evening. Entertainment was provided in the form of
one of the waitresses having a nervous breakdown and throwing stuff and
we ate salad bar and spaghetti (real food!).

When it was almost dark, we headed the next mile to our campsite. WY is sooo
beautiful when the sun gets low. All the colors in the sky and the soil
just come alive. We were just in awe of the sky. The camping was free
at the park just outside town and right on a gorgeous lake surrounded
by the lowerdeserty mountains. We set up camp quickly as storms were threatening, hanging our food from the swing sets.

A
storm did come, but we were so relaxed from our mineral springs that it
was of very little trouble to us, and slept fine, managing to make for
the latrine in the brief interval between rain, creeping low to not be
tall and lightning rod like.

July 21st Day 38 Images

2008-07-24T13:34:00.000-07:00

Morning in our "million dollar view"

Campsite devastated by Pine Beetle, with a "million dollar view"

Dillon Reservoir Panorama attempt, please excuse the super dork

Dillon Reservoir Panorama part 2

Dillon Reservoir Panorama part 3

Yet another picturesque reservoir, congratulations US Army Corps of Engineers

Becca looking strong on her "brat" diet, bananas, rice, applesauce, toast (sans rice)

the treats of traveling, Brian in Kremmling (Bob holding the camera)

Entering Byers Canon, bring on the hot springs

Day 39 July 22 Hot Sulphur Springs to Walden, CO

2008-07-22T16:50:00.001-07:00

Andy awoke to a shaggy hippy man coming over to talk to him while A was still brushing his teeth. Fortunately he realized that Andy might want to finish brushing his teeth by himself and retired back to his van, but soon after he was back and we were into a good conversation. His name is Greenlight and he told us about his many adventures, including walking cross country in '84, and told us about how he travels around hunting mushrooms and other herbs and lectures at various fungi festivals (that's not what he called them) around the country.

We continued our conversation at breakfast at the Dugout, and by the end of our time together I think Andy was totally hooked on mushroom hunting (although I think we'll save that for another trip- the books are too heavy to carry.) I tried to order granola, which they were out of, and so tried eggs instead, but this ended up not being the ticket at all for my tummy. Our waitress told us how to make all sorts of homeade schnapps which wasn't of too much interest to us and also told us about a hot springs somewhere north and east of where we were going that she couldn't remember where but we should really try to find. Oh well, she was sweet and poured A about 6 cups of coffee while we sat there.

If you want to know about the first 20 miles of the trip ask A, because my stomach was in total agony. I remember we had to be piloted through a construction site for about a mile, which had some drivers on the otherside angry, and several had dismounted their motorcycles to see what was going on.

We had a little over a 60 mile day planned, with no services between Hot Sulphur and Walden, except for Saw Mill Gulch campsite that had restrooms and water after the first 20 miles. We stopped here for probably an hour, I took a nap, Andy explored the river a bit, and had our seperate and unequal meals.

After that we both felt better though, and prepared to go back over the continental divide at about 9500 this time. The climbing was tough, but grand, but the summit had absolutely no view. What came after however was a gorgeous 30 mile wide valley where the Ute Tribe used to hunt bison. Apparently it used to be black with them. Now it was just gorgeous open space surrounded by mountains all around the perimeter.

We took a break in serviceless town of Rand, enjoying the shoulder and the view, and then did our last 20 miles to Walden through a wildlife preserve. The only wildlife we saw was a momma duck that we separated from her ducklings as they were crossing the road. We did see lots of cows. Moo.

Walden was a grooving town, esp. after 60 miles. We made it just in time to use the library quickly, eat at the Moose Creek Cafe (simple salad and baked potato- i learned by lesson, bbq and vanilla creme for A), and then off to the city park where we would camp next to a baseball field that had a game going on. The sheriff gave A the number for a woman to let us in the athletic club and we took showers for a bargain of $3 a piece, since camping was free.

The sky got super dark while we were there, and a storm was definitely coming from all directions. It looked super cool as the sun set under the dark navy clouds. We staked our tent down to the brown grass (where the sprinklers don't soak you), hung our food from the baseball scoreboard, and passed out.

July 21st Day 38 Pine Cove to Hot Sulphur Springs

2008-07-22T16:49:00.000-07:00

The night in Pine Cove was a chilly one! We left our rain fly off so we could see the brilliant moon and stars when we go to pee in the night (how romantic), but it was pretty cold, into the 30s I think, and Andy and I pulled our sleeping bags as tight as possible.

We made another fire in the morn to warm us up, although the very dry wood didn't cooroperate as much and I ended up ripping out the "book group and discussion guide" section from my current NYTimes Bestseller to help get her started. Dead weight anyway.

After breakfast (oatmeal and coffee for A and more Melba for me), we set off on the leg of our next journey.

The picture taking fever continued to have hold of us and as I was still feeling rather pooly, just not able to eat a sufficiency of calories at all, we stopped often as we circled the Dillon reservoir via about a 7 mile bike route.

In Silverthorn, another sort of scary tourist place with outlet malls and vibrant colored buildings, we stopped at the 7-11 for some bananas and toast, which ended up being two croissants, which in turn ended up being a mistake. (I was to learn to not eat very much at all). We were again amazed at how little a person can know about their town when we asked the girls in the shop about the 2 major roads right outside the shop. And we talked to a Napoleonic old fellow on a BMW motorbike from Roanoke VA who gave us the thumbs up in a very backwards sort of manner.

Enough of that. This day was hard, for both of us. I think Andy was spent lifting my spirits (and maybe trying to fight off sickness himself), and we tried desperately to enjoy the views and to smile at all the friendly local bikers flying by the other way, but it was difficult. At some point we turned off Rt. 9 to take a sort of frontage road around a lake and have a town stop. This choice we later regretted as the town's services were all closed, the road was quite damaged, and hillier than the main route. But who knows, maybe we would have gone splat had we taken that route. In any case, I think the only thing that kept us going for this leg was that we were looking forward to meeting our friend (A's longtime buddy) Brian and his friend (and hopefully ours too) Bob in Kremmling, CO. Bob was out visiting Brian in Denver and had kindly offered his rental car to come look at the Rockies and track on down on the trail.

As it turned out, B&B probably would have passed us on route 9 if we hadn't turned off, but as fate would have it, they got to explore further down the route before our paths crossed.

Route 9 was also sort of horrible (very little to no shoulder), so when we pulled into Kremmling, we were quite happy to do so. Over the course of the last 40 miles the drop in elevation had already started to change the landscape significantly to a rockier and more desert-like scene.

In Kremmling, we headed straight for the library, to discover that there were 2 other fully loaded bicycles already out front. They belonged to the lovely Catie and Dave of Portland, OR, who were heading as far as they could East until Dave's brothers wedding takes them off route. We exchanged some tips, laughs, and gross sickness stories. They both had just had boughts of the stomach flu, as well as another French touring bicyclist named Pierre who walked in too. So apparently it is not something I had eaten afterall, but the plague of the TransAm (reading others biking blogs we have found that they too have gotten sick- yuck!). They also new Asta from previous Portland biking fun (it's a small world). We hope to see them when we get there. Dave is going to grad school at Lewis and Clark in the fall and Catie teaches 4th and 5th graders and loves it. She was wearing a dress and leggings. We were impressed. In any case, we didn't get much blogging done before Brian and Bob walked in and we began to have a joyous time. I think A really needed this boy time, so we chatted for a good bit, they had driven all the way to Hot Sulphur and back before B's cellphone alerted him that there was a vmail message. Brian had also brought us fruit and goldfish and a turkey sandwich, which kept us fed for the next day. We ate at the town's very dark saloon while a windy sandy storm encircled us. It was so good to see these too. Bob lives in brooklyn, but is the original Georgia Southern Gentleman and Brian is always full of grand tales.

After a few pics and some hugs, we set off into the darkened skies heading for a campground just before Hot Sulphur Springs. We felt a little more invigorated after our meetings of friends, and the ride didn't seem to bad. We stopped at this little general store in a town called Parshall, where a tiny little elderly woman rung us up for 7up and shredded wheat (my toast) and let us use the bathroom in her connecting house. It was then only 2 1/2 miles to our campsite, but just as we were turning in, a local cyclists, whose name was Shawn, turned out and told us we had to make it 2.5 more flat miles through Byers Canyon to the Hot Sulphur Springs to camp. He rolled with us a bit and sealed the deal for talking us into it, then took off to go up and over the mountains we were sort of dodging between, and said maybe we'd see him later at the springs.

We got to camp easily after keeping our heads up to stare at the gorgeousness and creepiness of the canyon. The camping was free, which was awesome, although quite buggy, and we ended up staking out tent town with railroad stakes because they were the only things A could successfully drive into the ground.

On our short walk to the springs, we had to cross a railroad track and a train was coming, Andy thought we should run for it, but I thought we should wait. So wait we did, and of course, the train got stuck.

After a few minutes of deliberating, we lost our patience and stupidly, but successfully, climbed up between the cars and over to freedom and restoration. The springs were $11 after 8pm so we got a good discount and then treated ourself to some of their 24 different pools. Our favorite was the natural one with the waterfall that you could drink from and get massaged by, yum. We ran into Shawn again in the "cooker" pool 112 degrees, and he told us about himself, sells insurance, has 3 girls, raises horses, bikes, the usual for CO I guess.

At 10, the springs closed and we reluctantly but very peacefully meandered back to camp and softly went to bed.

July 20th Day 37 Fairplay to Pine Cove Campground (near Frisco)

2008-07-22T16:48:00.000-07:00

The night did not go too well. In the morning, we were a little worried and Andy ended up going to the front desk to get in contact with a doctor. Apparently I was paranoid. The man at the front desk called his wife who called the husband of the doc who called the doc who then came to our hotel room to give me a look over. She appeared 15 minutes later, looking like the well-groomed but casual horse person she was. Dr. Fittings then gave me a check up, including checking my oxygen which was fine, groaned when I told her what I had eaten and told me that after I finished cleaning myself out, a diet of rice, toast, bananas, and apple sauce would get me back to a healthy digestive track, and that it was most likely something I had eaten.

Feeling mentally better with this in mind (and the doc was so nice--she didn't charge us a dime! which is amazing, god bless her) we spent another hour or so relaxing and getting our stuff together, picking up some applesauce and toast, before we decided (mostly with that $75 in mind) that we should probably keep going, up to Hoosier's pass as it happens, our highest point on our route at 11,500+.

The initial part of the climb was good, we passed out of Fairplay and into Alma (where a bike route was provided- yipee!), meeting a couple older guy bikers on the way who were riding from Portland to Pueblo. We didn't really feel like chatting though and Andy very graciously talked our way out of the conversation and back onto the bikes pretty quickly.

As soon as we were out of Alma, a few things happened, the road began to have zero shoulder and a ton of traffic, our climb became quite a bit steeper (4 mi. to the summit), our breathing got much more difficult, and we started taking pictures like crazy, knowing full well that the views we were seeing would in no way translate, but still hoping to capture some glimmer of the moment.

We stopped a couple times on the way up to give ourselves a break from traffic (swear). We miraculously made it up to the top, loving the cool crisp air, even if we were gasping a bit. After a few pictures and some chatting with others at the top, we headed down the otherside (now slightly more bundled up) where we gave encouragement to another cross-country couple going east. We had to brake almost the entire way down, but we were loving the view, and at one point we both got teary, had to pull over and hug. aww.

The next stop was Breckenridge, their bike shop, and lunch for Andy. We felt a great sense of relief having come over the highest point, but the town itself was such a Disneyland tourist mecca, that we felt quite odd, dirty, and somehow run-of-the-mill. As A said, everyone's a tourist, and no one wants to be. We went to the bike shop where we had ordered a part for my bike, left to have them install it, put a new back tire on, and look at A's gears. Everyone we talked to in town seemed a bit oxygen deprived, smart, but the words definitely took some time coming (and this is from a southern girl). Andy dined at a Polish joint on Zuppa while I steadily ate applesauce and melba toast. We headed back to the bike shop, only to find that Agnes (my bike) has had MORE wonky things done to her in a previous life and her bottom bracket can pretty much never be replaced because someone drilled it out and rethreaded her backwards. Crazy. Why you would do this, we have no idea. In any case, new tire, and slightly better gearing on A's bike (although the front part of his drive train is looking a little rough), so we set off for an easy downhill (mostly) ride out of surreal Breckenridge via their bike path to a campsite that had just opened 4 days ago and recommended to us by Michael as "a million dollar view".

We were not disappointed by the campsite. Although we started noticing in more vast numbers, that the pine trees were dying like crazy. Almost 75% of them were discolored, making them look strangely like the Appalachian mountain fall foliage. Pine Cove Campground had only recently opened because up until then they had been logging out some of the decayed pine trees. A fellow camper named John (a gypsy/big rig driver who also talked very slowly but seemed to be quite a knowledgeable fellow)told us it was the 300 year onslaught of the Pine Beetle who was ravaging this countyside. The site overlooked the Dillon Reservoir with stupendous mountains all about. Andy was a little miffed because some day users stole our campsite and then left, but the one right next to it proved to be just dandy. Since it was a pretty short day, we took it easy, built a fire with all the dead wood EVERYWHERE, read, and went to bed.

July 19th Day 36 Guffey to Fairplay, CO

2008-07-22T16:34:00.000-07:00

We were only planning on 40 miles to Fairplay to help us acclimate anyway, so when I awoke feeling better, though still without much appetite, we decided to head out. Baked potato for me for breakfast and oatmeal for Andy we set off for another day of mostly climbing (Fairplay is about 9900). We were doing really well, the hills were pretty good to us and the Rockies just kept getting bigger and bigger and more expansive. Most of the while we rode with our mouths open, but then bugs and dryness would set in and we'd remember to keep them shut.

It was lunch where our luck changed now in Hartsel, or South Park, we stopped about halfway into our trip for lunch. For some reason I was possessed to have a strawberry milkshake and a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch (there weren't a lot of choices folks), but anyway this choice proved deadly.

We met some young fellows who were driving around and biking different trails and when the South Park General Store failed to have bananas, they kindly gave us some of theirs.

The rest of the ride was gorgeous, I think, everything just opened up so wide with lots of streams running through and again the inclines were very tame. However, my stomach was revolting, and we hadn't gone 10 miles before Andy stopped to take a picture, and I realized that nature was calling on the side of the road with no trees and some serious stomach cramps, right next to a brand new ranch home that was still under construction (when I say right next to, the actual house was still about 100 yards away). Fortunately for me the next 10 miles to Fairplay were none too short. (The Colorado DOT can't always do math properly or count their own mile markers). We stopped for a while at the gas station (the smell inside made me sooo queasy) and then headed down to the RV park and motel. We were planning on forking over the (ridiculous) $27 for camping, but when we got there and found it was really only a parking lot, with no grass, or shade, and my needs still bathroom bound, we ended up forking up the $75 (also ridiculous) for the motel room.

Andy was super sweet and went and got bagels and info and let me pass out and take naps for the rest of the day.

Before going to bed I felt slightly better, but only a little, and so I kept my fingers crossed that acclimation was on its way.

July 18th, an impromptu rest day (4)

2008-07-21T14:22:00.000-07:00

We woke up, ready to start on the next leg of our journey. Except that I felt awful. Headache, nausea, vomiting and just general feeling of absolute blah. So this is altitude sickness I thought (strange that I didn't get it in Peru at 12,000 feet, but this is now).

The day ended up taking a different turn. We decided to stay put, watched movies, went to Rita's Place, where she fed us (I ate a bagel, ever ever so slowly and a gingeralesque soda) and told us some of her story after we had been back a few times. Her mother was sort of a gypsy and after a while they had travelled cross country from Jersey and landed in CO. She raised her two valedictorian kids, and when they were gone, swearing that she couldn't work another day at a computer, gave it up to open the restaurant in Guffey. She was very sweet to us, she called the nearby clinic so that I could get some advice on handling my "altitude sickness" as well as calling her volunteer firefighter friend Steve to bring me some asprin (to thin the blood). Steve also tried to get me some oxygen but the fire chief had already gone home. So the day was restful and full of naps and some exploring (on Andy's part). He went up to meet Bill (Coleen's hubby) who gave him the key to the old city hall, now called the "Chicken Fly" which is full of crazy sculptural found objects, put together in a way that is only not tacky in a 26 person town in the mountains of CO. I think he wandered around the town and went back to the Saloon for dinner, where he grabbed me a baked potatoe (apparently lots of carbs are good, but very low fat).

I was paranoid about the wood stove sucking more oxygen out of the cabin, so I wouldn't let Andy start a fire that night.

Went to bed hoping to feel better in the morning and set off.

End of July 17th Day 35

2008-07-21T14:05:00.000-07:00

Apparently at some point I got a day off in counting. We'll have to go back and fix that at some point.

Very limited time to write this, but feel like should at least give brief update.

We left Canon City and headed up to Guffey. This was our first big climb of the rockies 3000 feet in a little over 30 miles up to about 8200 I think. I will only be redundant by saying that we were just freaking amazed by all these mountains, and I think (several days past now) that we are just starting to realize that we are next to them and not looking at some blown up poster.

That said, we were still cursing (me silently, Andy had the lung capacity) as we went up to Guffey. These were some of the steepest grades we have encountered in the Rockies, and although still kinder than the Appalachians, the whole not breathing thing made them difficult. Everyone we talked told us these were a nursing dog of a "hill" and that we were crazy. One guy couldn't make it up in his truck and had to come back down to load up his bulldozing passenger.

After a flat tire, many gasps, cold wind, and some rain, we were almost to Guffey when Colleen (the owner and lovely host of our hostel for the evening) pulled up in her little coupe/truck (I know there is a word for those cars but I don't know what they are) to check on us. She told us what we wanted to hear, that we were about 3 miles from Guffey, half was downhill, she would put a fire on in the "Honeymoon Cabin" (we were planning on staying in the bunkbed hostel part, but apparently that was no longer an option) and that in fact the Saloon was still open for food. Hot Dog.

Our muscles were super cold when we got to Guffey and the rain then did really start to come down. The cabin was super cute, all sorts of recycled everything put together and most excitingly a pot belly stove with a fire going. After we calmed down, we walked down to the Saloon, where we dined happily on chicken friend steak (andy) and green chili burrito (and warmed up with coffee). Our map had no mention of any food in this town, so we were pleasantly surprised to find this place open and welcoming, well sort of. We were to learn that the people in Guffey are some of the sweetest nicest people you will ever meet, but they want to be left alone. Their favorite time is winter when no tourists show their face. (We hate being tourists).I had to call Coleen to let her know the shower was locked, which she told me where the key was. Then she called the saloon back and let me know that she would just worry so she was going over there to unlock it. Feeling much better, we walked slowly back up to the cabin, took hot showers, watched "Chicken Run," and crawled into our electric blankets.

Day 35 July 16th Pueblo to Ca~non City, CO

2008-07-17T11:23:00.000-07:00

Some of Pueblo's sites (I mean it really IS a cute town, but people are bored too) Michael and I bought some Fat Tire here. Good stuff.

Part of the gang: Chris, Andy, Marya with Jack, and Michael (mia McCartney, Jamie, Becca, and the rest of the menagerie of Osgood/Davin animals)

Asland (so named by McCartney and Jamie) and me

Andy as we just peak into the Rockies...

Fremont County: Corrections Capital (love you dad)

Not much has happened... Although we did jam out last night during a rockband video game and eat very tasty cookout food. They can tear up some of that stuff. Andy was pretty durn good at the drums (we might have to look into a set back home) however my hand eye coordination left something to be desired. We left this morning after a good meal of tasty eggs on leftover hamburger buns and some strong coffee that we will miss. We also had a very sweet note from Miss McCartney that set us off right.

We said goodbye without tears miraculously and were off down highway 50 to Canon City. Marya caught up with us about 5 miles down the road to pass off some maps (THANK YOU!) She jumped out of the car barefoot and sent us on our way again.

The ride has been slow, because we can really feel the altitude, but so gorgeous. We want to say "WOW" just constantly. We are in Canon City (5300+ ft) right now heading to Guffey for the night. We will start our real climbing after lunch. Fremont county is the correctional capital of the USA, prison museum and everything. It is one of their main "industries". They seem to have a strong Christian faction to keep the convicts under control.

These mountains are just unbelievable. I can't really believe we are here. I keep laughing out loud when I think that we are really hear and almost touching them. Biking up 50 Pikes Peak was on our right and equally gorgeous mountains/canyons on our left.

Tuesday July 14 Haswell to Pueblo, CO and July 15th, a blessed rest day here

2008-07-16T12:57:00.000-07:00

Woke up in Haswell without getting any wetter, but with another night of cats screaming in heat at each other- a most inhuman sound. Were greeted by an old, slightly senile farmer that Michael had befriended the day before while they both stood under an awning, one with his bike the other with a truck full of freshly harvested wheat, who offered us a gallon of milk, some yogurt, and a gallon of water, stating that he didn't have any use for them because he just didn't eat anymore. We politely declined and set about getting our stuff ready for the day. On our way out we stopped at the Grocery and Propane place that looks like an old plane hanger (our next town was a good 35 miles off), and ate on their 50 year old couch some microwaved jimmy dean sausage biscuits, black coffee and little debbie cinnamon rolls, right next to the mechanic shop, while watching their tv tied to the top of their refrigerator. Even inside this place it was still hard to tell if it was open. It must have been our ticket to success though, because as soon as we started rolling, the wind was at our backs and the first 14 miles slightly downhill (YES!). The terrain started to become populated and prairie dogs and mini-mesas began to appear. By 10 o'clock we had gone 45 miles, and were feeling so good that we waited till the 3rd town to stop and have something to eat.

None of us wanted to lose momentum or wait for the wind to change, so after our good lunch including a bag of expired baby carrots (meaning free! yes!) we hopped back on route 96 for the next 45 miles to Pueblo.

It did get a little harder, because even though our brains were really enjoying the ratio of time to mileage to effort, we were still biking 90 miles and our bodies started to tell us so. We stopped once more in Boone, where a man randomly and nicely paid for our ice cream and orange juice.

A little after 2 we pulled into Pueblo where dust was being whipped up like crazy, and we saw several dust devils going about their business under the coming storm. The last 10 miles the wind had changed on us and the altitude started getting to everyone a little bit, especially after Andy and I screamed at Michael (who was a good ways ahead of us) while riding uphill that he had missed the turn to absolutely no avail. A little lightheaded we headed downtown to the Great Divide bike shop where the staff, especially Janna, were most helpful and got us all set up. A&1 made an appointment to get a quick tune up on our bikes the following morning and they took care of Mike on the spot. Michael had developed holes on both sides of the back of his short, which stimulated a whole conversation about how the shop should market bike shorts that say the Great Divide on the rear. Michael is still riding with holes. I really hope he doesn't get sunburned.

After we wrapped up there we ate at the local Irish Pub some delicious sandwiches and some good micro-brew (2.50 a pint!), they even had homemade root beer ($3) which was absolutely delicious and actually tasted like it came from a plant. Yee ha. A little tipsy, just one beer, but the altitude gets you quick, we headed to Marya and Chris's to see our good friends and eat a second supper of veggie stir-fry, salad, cake and coffee. Yummy. It was so nice to be clean, in good familiar hands, and have a nice home cooked meal swapping stories, etc. After a while, the sexes separated for some guy time and gal time and rejoined for desert. We all crashed pretty early and went to bed. Those sheets felt sooo nice and cool.

Today we've been super lazy although we sent Michael into the mountains. We did feed him an IHOP breakfast (sponsored by Britt, now Staley) before dropping Marya at work and letting him get on the road. We went back to the shop, our bikes are running more smoothly, we bought some leftover 99 cent hats from a silk-screening shop that will hopefully hold up against the wind (I was really excited because mine already had a B embroidered on the visor part). Now we're just chilling in their cool house and hopefully letting our muscles restore themselves for our journey and letting ourselves acclimate to the altitude a bit more. We just met the kids, who didn't know we were going to be here, so we felt a bit awkward to be strangers in their house.

Tonight we'll have a cook out and hopefully get a good night's rest before we set off in the morning. I think we're still on East Coast time because we just wake up at 5:30 automatically now.

Monday night

2008-07-16T10:47:00.000-07:00

After librarying in Eads, we went to their pool to use showers and/or swim. When we arrived none of the kids were actually in the pool, but about 20 of them were just standing around the sides of it. Once we jumped in, we found out why. FREEZING! It was such a weird dichotomy to be in the dry, hot, desert and jump into ice cold water. We didn't stay long, but we did have the pleasure of hearing the local kids (the most diverse group of kids I've ever seen hanging out together) have a rap-off (for lack of a better word). We thought that our new found pal Michael would join us, but he never surfaced, so we assumed that he had already pushed off to Haswell.

Never ones to miss the local cuisine, we stopped at their one open restaurant, the Ranch House, where we ran into another couple, probably in their 40s or 50s, Sharon and Mike, who were also heading west via their own routes including lots of rail trails like the Katy and the C&O out east. You can check their blog at www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/mikeandsharon08. Our paths seem to be going to diverge, but perhaps we will run into them later on the trail. They recommended the chicken fried steak and salad bar, and we very willingly ate as instructed. We were then reminded how hard it is to ride on a very full belly.

We set off about 6pm for Haswell and much of the heat of the day had already melted away. The wind however seemed to be changing and our next 20 miles proved a bit tougher than the previous 60. We saw our first squealing pigs in this stretch (2000 miles and not a pig in sight). Their quarters seemed to be amidst a junkyard of abandoned, rusting cars, with a teeny tiny house nestled back in the weeds. I am not sure if this would qualify them as free-range or not, but they seemed pretty happy. The sky was spectacular and weird. T-storms were predicted and off to our left we could see one forming. It looked like a giant tidal wave cloud that looked like it would crash on the road. We also saw a couple mule deer. A woman driving stopped to warn us of the low visibility, flash flooding, and winds up ahead. "Don't rush" getting there is what she said. So taking our time, and being cautious, although we weren't sure what exactly we would do in case of emergency, we proceeded now into the full wind, looking at the brilliant sky and searching around for shelter in case it was needed before we made it to Haswell.

We sort of missed the storm actually, just getting slightly wet and a little winded from the increasing altitude (about 4300, still low for where we're headed), but numerous emergency vehicles began passing us, and when we pulled into town, and found Michael, he told us that a brush fire had started from the lightning just over the way with flames about 100 feet in the air. It seemed like everyone from the neighboring towns rushed to fight this, we rode our bikes up to look and possibly volunteer our services, but fortunately for everyone (except the disaster oriented drama queens in us) they seemed to have gotten the fire under control. We sat watching the sun set behind the dark storm clouds from the Haswell cemetery while volunteer fire trucks finished up the the embers before returning to camp for a night spent in their city park next to the "Nation's Smallest Jail," presently unoccupied.

July 13 Day 33 Scott City to Tribune and Day 34 Tribune KS to Haysville CO

2008-07-14T14:34:00.000-07:00

We got up slowly because this day was to be short, only about 45-50 miles, so we figured we had plenty of time. We were also prepped for another time zone change where we would gain an hour. So the day had possibilities.

After some deliberative between a motel restaurant (It's Sunday you see) and Dennys, we decided on Denny's for breakfast (I had seen it the night before going to pick up the subs), so we biked down to the other side of town (not very far) only to discover that I was in fact, less than observant, and it was a grocery store, and so we ended up riding back up to the other restaurant, which was quite good, except our order wasn't quite right. Andy decided this wasn't his town. This was confirmed when we left and began pumping up his tires and one of the valves just broke off. Unpatchable, obviously, so we are down to one tube.

The wind wasn't too bad, mostly southern and a little in our face, but nothing like 2 days previous, so we set out into total flatness and took in the sights. Flatness, Zen, and then FEED LOTS. On one side of the road was grass with a few cows grazing across the most vast country we've ever seen, and on the other, cows squeezed together in their own feces, not a blade of grass, eating corn out of big cement troughs, looking pretty miserable. There is so much country out here, we just really didn't understand the necessity of such operations, and there were many, and even more off road. "Feeders".

At this point we had pretty much decided that the first part of Kansas was far superior to the flatter western portion. The flatness must do something to the human psyche.

Although in Dighton, there had been a four story building called "The Skyscraper of the West" our vote is for these grain elevators that are the main disturbance to the linear, treeless, horizon.

At a county line we crossed into Mountain (wannabe) Time, and gained that precious hour, so when we rolled into our destination town around 2:15, we were pretty excited to have many hours ahead of us.

It ended up being our first night of camping with fellow bikers, and the numbers just kept growing.

We first ran into Emerson and Copper (who look exactly like their names) who were just pulling into town. They had met at a sustainable living homestead in Oregon where they were learning to build cob houses and had randomly decided to go on this trip together about 3 weeks later.

Jack and Phillip (father and son), were doing the whole TransAm and sticking to the route. They were from Ashland, VA, but Phillip had gotten excrutiating tendonitus in the first few hundred miles and had opted to buy a car in Missoula Montana instead of bailing on the trip.

There were also 2 Swedish fellows coming from SF, and we didn't get their names, although we gave them good directions to Lindsborg.

A bit later, Michael pulled in, in matching bag and jersey, having come from New York and taken a more northern route, he had just gotten on the TransAm for the first time.

Everyone swapped stories, from being shot at in Eastern OR to going on a cattle buying outing, and it was nice to talk to some other crazy bikers, or as we decided travelers, since none of us would consider ourselves hardcore cyclists.

This was our abode for the night.

This morning was a bit of a struggle for me. I had 3 flats before we even left town and we ended up having to use our last tube (keeping our fingers crossed until Pueblo), but Michael, Copper and Emerson continued to hang out and wait for us so we could share a proper meal together. It turned out to not be as proper because the restaurant was closed, so we picked through the grocery store and loaded up on overripe bananas for 10 cents. No one seemed in a hurry to get off, and even though we had all woken up at 5:30ish, we didn't really get off till 9:30.

The riding today has been fantastic and the southern wind pretty kind. We passed into Colorado (WOO HOO!) about 15 miles into our trip. Michael is riding with us and definitely keeps a quicker clip than we do. It's awesome to have an additional traveller for a bit, although it does throw off some finally established routines, like how to pee on the side of the road.

We had awesome veggieliscious subs from a gas station (that just opened 2 weeks ago and was quite a find) in Sheridan Lake (which should be Sheridan Nolake as there is just a big bowl of sand). The super friendly clerks in the shop were joking about their lakefront property.

As soon as we left Sheridan (about 30 miles into the trip), the scenes started to change, our air started to dry out, sagebrush appeared everywhere, mini mini mesas, and a sure-fire western feel.

Right now we're stopped Eads, CO about 20 miles from our final destination for the night, where we've already run into 3 more cyclists previously unknown to us.

Tomorrow or Wednesday we hope to be in Pueblo, CO to spend a day with friends and prepare our bikes and ourselves (hopefully) for the ROCKIES!

finish of Day 31 and July 12 Day 32 La Crosse to Scott City

2008-07-14T14:05:00.000-07:00

We dined in the Rooster in La Crosse for dinner where we had the pleasure of meeting Leona who sat down at our table and told us a bit about the town, her family history and inquired after us. Her father had been quite a skilled stone mason and built the library and the barbed wire museum there. La Crosse, in case you didn't know, is the barbed wire capital. (She has a theory that the reason our family's cabin in Franklin has vertical beams has something to do with Moonshine)

We slept in the city park which had a great enclosed picnic area where we gave each other civil rights showers with the available hose. I think it helped release some built up tension from the day. We got a great vibe from the town except that when we came back from eating our food that we had tied up to the rafters of the picnic area had been taken down and the string removed and everything else left perfectly as is.

The next day we got up to the sound of thunder and parts of red sky, with the wind blowing NNE, yay for us! We pretty much were blown the 5 miles down to our breakfast date with Blair and Asta where we dined on a big cooler of fruit some woman had given them and then supplemented it with frozen biscuits from the gas station. It was grand to see them. The only boyless bikers we have seen thus far on the trip. They rock and looked like they were just thrilled to be alive, so after swapping stories we left them to their ride into the wind, while we gleefully set off down route 96, now back on the TransAm, and we didn't go 20 miles before we met 3 other parties of bikers heading east. A gentlemand and his father from Red Bank, NJ (the son was now driving a car because their driver had bailed, and Andy offered a solution to this problem, which dad seemed more excited about than son), then met Greg from Warrenton, VA, and then Mark and John, coming from Prescott, AZ, they both had fabulous pioneer mustaches and looked like they should be outlaws, but I think they are just nice, blooming hipsters (John is moving to NYC). We also saw an addition 4 bikes somewhere by a gas station this day and were thrilled to behold all these fair bikers.

I have to say we were really digging this tailwind and thinking that we had earned it, when all the sudden this cold cold wind from the other direction started whipping us around. Groaning, we pulled into Ness City for a lunch at the Cactus Club where we devoured their buffet salad bar with soft serve ice cream and sprinkles and gummy bears, oh my! Ready to face whatever wind was in front of us we made it another 30 miles to Dighton, as flatness really settled in, and then we decided to push on, just another 25 miles to Scott City where we were told a jacuzzi waited for us at the hostel we were staying at.

Many ishuffle tunes later, we got to Scott City, pulled up to the Athleticlub where they host bikers, got Subway for dinner, and were let in by Emily who had very kindly come back to work to let us in.

Since it was $15 bucks a pop to use everything, we used their pool and jacuzzi to their fullest (Andy can really get some spring off a diving board) and then settled into the lounge area to eat our subs. With us in the lounge was displayed a BikeCentennial certificate (the owner had done the ride with 4000 other people in 1976) as well as some other artifacts that weren't our style exactly (like the picture of Ronald Reagan astride a horse and Republican of the Year certificate) Just as we were about to bite into our sandwiches the man himself, Bill Fry, came in with sunscreen all over his face and told us we weren't supposed to eat in there. After an awkward exchange, where we insisted we would go outside and eat, and he kept saying well you already started so you might as well finish, and accusing us of illiteracy (nicely, and to tell the truth, it was on the sheet we had been given, so apparently we are illiterate), we went out onto their patio and had an interesting, and probably awkward conversation with him before he called his wife to ask her when dinner was ready. Anyway, the man's an interesting fellow, a retired gymnastics coach, an avid Republican, a believer in small towns, he was a good host and definitely a character.

We went back out for some ice cream and fruit for the morrow, and to digest our conversation, which also turned into a surreal experience as the grocery store cashier immediately began hysterically laughing at us as we walked in. We think it's because our arms were crossed, still not sure.

Bed called us back and we fell asleep watching a John Wayne flick on TV.

A filler post

2008-07-14T13:48:00.000-07:00

Well we were able to make it to LaCrosse that night, but not without some serious ranting and raving for the next 30 miles. It was all we could do from getting off the bike, using our superhuman strength to throw it into a Kansas oil field and call for a helicopter, but we made it. At least it was good for the bikers going Eastward. Someone's pain, someone's gain.

The dala horse shop in Lindsborg

joy

Andy and Mark Flynn in our quarters for the night (Lindsborg city park)
I also forgot to mention this lovely gentleman, Mark Flynn and his daughter, that we met in Lindsborg, who came and checked on us a couple times, told us where we could find grub, what to expect from the coming landscape, and exchanged some of his monumental mountain biking adventures that we were totally impressed by. We are not mountain savvy I'm afraid. His daughter told us where to get the best snow cones and we know she was providing most of the momentum for their tandem-esque bicycle.

a little square of Lindsborg

a tree for a silo

the best mexican restaurant ever in Ottawa KS

a couple extra laps on the way to Council Grove, KS

Herington mural we liked, town very strange

and their library

Day 31 July 11 Lindsborg to La Crosse

2008-07-11T12:12:00.000-07:00

Ate sandwich and grapes for breakfast because we got up and off before the town did, hoping to beat the 100 degree forecast. Beautiful riding, until, our new invisible enemy, the wind! 30 mile an hour sustained winds are what we are dealing with today. It's possible, we've done 62 miles thus far, it's just hard and heck and we get blown off the road periodically, then scream some when you realize you've only gone 1 mile and it feels like 10.

Oh well. Tomorrow we will rejoin our TransAm route and hopefully have breakfast with some fellow bikers coming from the other coast Blair, a fellow Yoga To The People Trainee and her lovely sister Asta.

Rest Day 2 Not Mcpherson, but "Little Sweden"

2008-07-10T09:53:00.000-07:00

So our bodies won. They said, repeatedly "Day OFF!!" I don't think it was until we actually arrived in sweet sweet Lindsborg (also known as "Little Sweden" in Kansas?) that we decided this was the place to do it. Our joints, muscles, and heads needed a day off. We were getting a little to feisty and needed to have some downtime, and have a little more room to spread out and be patient with ourselves and each other. This has proved a good town to do it end.

The end of the ride yesterday after leaving Herington (a very strange slightly dumpy town- everyone seemed to have an agenda and be about funny business of what nature I cannot say, even the clean cut waiter at the very mediocre Mexican restaurant we ate at acted bizarre, not to mention the insane, dreaded beaded bearded man Andy decided to ask for directions, or the dwarfish lady at the first upstairs cafe we decided to look into for lunch first, who was too flustered preparing for the fair to have customers.) was long although I think we made good time. We were both a little resentful of something, for no particular reason except exhaustion and creaking knees. We were sporting our new coiffs of impotent hat, flapping bandana (to cover our neck and ears from the sun), and helmets. We passed through the cute towns of Hope (where there was 4 miles of abandoned box cars flanking Route 4) and Gypsum (Home of Steve Firth-1996 Decathalon Champ and closed cafes). Lots of clouds of dark black smoke came up from various places on the horizon. We have no idea what they were and were too grumpy to pontificate amicably.

At 7ish, we arrived at Lindsborg. It's a touristy little town, that is biking friendly and all Swedish heritage, so I am feeling pretty at home with my Scandanavian roots (of which I have only inherited the mumbling I'm afraid). The Old Mill Museum offers camping in their city park for $5 and $1 the pool which offers showers.

We stayed in the park the first night, swam a bit in the pool, didn't get to go down their awesome waterslide called "Thor's Revenge" though. Cold showers, and then off to the Stuga (only place open past 8 for dinner, well Pizza Hut) where we lounged, ate meaty deli sandwiches, had our respective carbonated beverages, all while watching AFV. We passed out splendidly in the tent. Another night in the open air!

Started the morning visiting some of the respective little places "The Butcher, the Baker, the Candelstick Maker" was our choice of breakfast and we had too many cups of coffee and some Swedish waffles/pcakes with lingonberry sauce and sour cream (sooo good, probably more like creme fraiche actually). Then we separated ways for a bit, Andy with another coffee house and me to a y gift shop containing a workshop where they make these Dala horses that are everywhere in this town. The lady and the dog, Ellie (the biggest golden I have ever seen, she wasn't petite either) were super sweet and let me talk their ear off for a while, which I know Andy appreciates.

Then it was time to explore their library, of course, so we occupied their one computer for a while and search their collection of Rand McNally State Maps for some alternate routes, ways we could chop off some mileage in our future. The librarian was super sweet (and old) but seemed a little bitter about living in Lindsborg--she's Norweigan. I think she was half blind also because she was wearing a cute red and white striped dress (like Aunt Odell used to wear) but it looked like there were coffee stains all over it and her glasses were as dirty as 3rd story window in Bed-Stuy. They had these cool little s of old pioneer homes that reminded me of a 4th grade project I did with Keating.

We ate big Swedish buffet. I think we forgot we weren't biking and didn't need as many calories. We decided to stay at the "Viking Motel" tonight, so we hustled back to our camp, packed up and over to the Inn. Our host was also very interesting, he seemed also bitter about the town a little bit. I asked him if he was from there and he said no one is from here unless their family has been here at least 4 generations, and his knowledge of the place seemed fairly limited. The room was huge! great for bikes. We cleaned and lubed them really well before jumping in their pool, sending Andy to do laundry in his underwear (all our other clothes were dirty) and me to the grocery store in his long johns, my compressed underarmour top, and orange rain jacket (the other sort of clean clothes).

We dined at their friendly "Seasons" restaurant, then ate popcorn and twizzlers in the room while watching the Usual Suspects. Ahhh. Rest days.

We hope all the Californians are safely tucked away from the fires, you are in our thoughts and prayers!

Day 30 July 9th Council Grove to McPherson Lake S.P.

2008-07-08T12:39:00.003-07:00

So this is day 30. The stars last night were incredible. So milky and layered. I have never been more grateful for having to pee in my life.

Our legs, especially our knees are really really tired. We are debating about our next rest day. Trying to wait until Pueblo to stay with our friend Marya, but also trying to listen to our bodies. However, this morning, after we left Council Grove, the hills seemed to have been stretched out a bit and are being gentle on us.

We ate this morning at Rosie's bakery. Homemade doughnuts! (and of course other more filling breakfast items). We eavesdropped on some farmers talking about whether to harvest, sell, give up for the year. It's misty again now, and lightly raining, so I guess maybe that's why they're all in here debating. The farmers gave us the best of luck and some tips on roads and weather and Rosie told us where to get groceries. So we headed a little ways to the grocery store, which I only mention because a nice man there, who seemed to like biking also, offered to let us cook breakfast at his house. Very nice. People in Kansas, rock. As I've been sitting here, now in the Herington Public Library, the librarian came over to offer me a glass of water. What library can you drink in? especially while typing at a computer?

It should take us another couple of days to meet back up with the TransAm trail, but so far we are happy with our choice, going from fake lake to fake lake.

Day 29 Hillsdale Lake to Council Grove

2008-07-08T12:39:00.001-07:00

From Hillsdale Lake we got off pretty early after 2 cups oatmeal to get us the 20+ miles to Ottawa, where we would get a proper breakfast.

Ottawa didn't have a lot to offer, but it was the first sort of pioneer-esque town we came upon. The restaurant that was by chance recommended to us, Maria's Mexican, turned out to be fantastic and we were in love with the burritos and mexican bread. Maria made our food as we looked over the walls decorated with lots of pictures, posters, articles and knickknacks of both Mexican origin and US Marine Corps. Apparently almost all of her family, including daughter, are Marines. (We have a picture of this restaurant but I can't get this computer to load right now.)

It was another 30 miles to Osage, and this was the first time we saw some of the flatness of Kansas. We rode over a bicycle prohibited bridge without dying thankfully (hopefully that won't happen often or ever again), and got onto some pavement that was the color of a well-loved basketball, for some reason I enjoyed looking at the road for this bit.

As we rode, we could see many weather systems forming in this vast sky, we thought we were sort of missing the storm, but then drops began to fall, so we stopped, got out our rain gear and rode a bit further. Then the rain stopped, we got hot, stopped, undressed, and then in another 500 feet this occurred again. A man actually stopped to ask us if we were ok. By the time we were in Osage, we were wet with sweat and rain and ready for some food.

We stopped at their library where we tried to get stuff done, but the computer I was assigned to was right next to where they were showing Spider Man 3, and I have absolutely no resistance to TV. So I wrote some sentences every once in a while, while I soaked the seat a bit with my wet clothes (Sorry!), and Andy and I got chilled. So after a bit, we gave up, and decided to eat, again.

Osage has no privately owned restaurants so we ended up eating at Pizza Hut. Apparently it was started in Kansas in 1958 by some brothers in Wichita, so we didn't feel too bad. It was sort of a local meal (100 miles maybe). The waiter Jordan let us load up on the salad bar for nothing since we had been some of their only customers for the day (it was about 3 by now), and told us about how he had just moved from Kansas City, MO to have a kid, buy a house, and practically give up (my words, not his) his artistic carreer as a graffiti artist, DJ, and musician. We hope he can cultivate an artistic culture in Osage. From the figures he was telling us, as far as cost goes, it would be an artist's dream! We exchanged some info, and headed off into the rain, another 40 miles to Council Grove.

The rain, which kept us cool, came and went all day. It was wonderful to watch the sky's clouds forming and rolling, and not circling. We saw some vast landscapes that I just can't even imagine. I am pretty in love with them, although they certainly came with some hills. Lots of them actually. This 40 mile stretch of land was anything but flat, which gave you the best views when you would reach the top and see everything. Pretty cool.

We stopped for snacks at a track at high school and a man pulled over in his "Bike Mobile" (labelled by his kids on the front liscense) and offered us a ride to Council Grove. We declined, but talked to him for a bit. His wife has biked across the state 10 times with about 1200 other bikers (can you imagine?) and he does some himself. A retired farmer, he looked pretty worn and there were big globs of eye boogers hanging around the corners of his lids. He said it had just been too hard and he had given it up, and seemed to be desperately trying to get his wife to stop working too so they could enjoy doing nothing for a while.

We rolled into Council Grove, pretty exhausted, grumpy, and pulling at each other a little bit. We stopped at this manmade lake, Council Grove Lake or something, and camped. They had several campsites and our conversation with the attendant we finally found was a bit complicated and round about, but we eventually got the information and price we needed.

The campsite itself was nice and secluded next to some Juniper trees, so after cooking our last Trader Joe's purchases, we showered (nice HOT water pressure! GO Army Core!), and went to bed, risking leaving the tent un-raincovered so that we might enjoy the stars. Our luck was with us today.

Day 28 July 7th Warrensburg to Hillsdale Lake S.P., Kansas

2008-07-08T12:37:00.000-07:00

We were told that we could get 10% off at the next door restaurant Country Kitchen, open 24 hrs, so that's where we headed at 5:30 for brkfst. However, their cheap, intriguing breakfast didn't start until 6. Our waiter Cody politely let us wait until 6 for our order to be put it, but it was pretty satisfying when it came out so we can't complain.

The route we had chosen out of Warrensburg consisted of smaller roads, more of the Missouri foothills (with some steep, lowest gear possible stuff), badly maintained pavement (this reputation preceded it) and even some gravel which was fun for the romantic aspect of it but quite tiring and then just freaking scary on the downhills.

This was our last day in MO, and after one trip to the Harrisonville library, post office (to dispose of some acquired weight), and their the Pearl Street Grill, we passed into Kansas from MO Rt. 2 to KS 68. The thing that marked this pass was that our shoulders immediately dissapeared to be replaced by sloping grassy ditches. While their had been tractor-trailers previously on the road, suddenly their appearance was much more frightening, and I felt that every muscle in my body was tightening, bordering on spasm. It looked ominous. I felt that if this how this road and all roads in KS were going to be, we were going to have to skip it somehow.

Only 5 miles in however our fears were briefly put to rest as we stopped in Louisburg, inhaled some Chinese dumpling and lo mein. I don't know that we actually tasted the food at all, but if we did it was good. Then back to their library to try to catch up on this durn blog :), figure out our resting places for KS, and just kill some heat time. Libraries are happening spots in these small towns. We spoke to 2 very nice ladies, one Michelle helped us figure out camping stuff and then even offered us a place to stay (a very very tempting offer), and another while calmly attending to 3 of her 6 children, told us where the groceries were, about the low cost of living in KS, and how she didn't think she could ever bike across country. 3 months of biking vs. 6 x 18+ years of kids? Differents strokes for different folks.

We left Louisburg close to 7, and were delighted to find a shoulder on the road, and HILLS! Big long hills. Apparently there are some lies being told about parts of Kansas. We went up to Hillsdale Lake S.P., another project by the Army Corps of Engineers, and we needed the onsale bag of strawberry marshmallows we had purchased to get us that next 17 miles or so. Oy Vey.

But we got showers, had no one to pay so our night was free, ate some bananas, and went to bed, setting up for rain that never came.

Day 27th July 6th New Franklin to Warrensburg?

2008-07-08T12:29:00.000-07:00

Tried to get off early to make it to the end of the Katy trail. After a short ride to Boonville, crossing the Missouri for the last time, we stopped for breakfast at the Riverside Diner. Huge cinnamon buns, full of all our required nutrients, caught our eye, as did the "Open" sign on a Sunday morning in rural America.

The ride got a wee bit hillier after that, which was actually a welcome change because it gave us something to focus on. We saw a probably rabid racoon that was wide awake in the middle of the road and acting slightly bizarre, even guilty (it's probably the one that's been following us across from the East and eating our food). The day was really starting to heat and humid up like it had not in quite some time.

We made it to Sedalia, home of the Daum Museum of Contemporary Art (which we didn't visit, but just so you know). Here we were to make a decision, whether to finish out the trail in Clinton today and then plan our route to rejoin our TransAm colleagues or to head strait out from there and possibly through Kansas City. Luckily, I think, we ran into the owner of one of the bike shops, who told us that a ride on Rt. 50 to Kansas City wasn't bad, big shoulders, and that he used to ride it to visit his gal all the time in college.

Taking his advice, we headed onto hot, steamy, rt. 50, being thrown back into a suburban sprawl environment on a 4 lane highway was a little jarring (esp. because there wasn't a shoulder through town) and we were hungry (and I can be less than pleasant when hungry). We had resigned ourselves almost to eating at Denny's or the like, when we stumbled upon the Brick Oven serving up delicious meditteranean food. I had actually had a dream with chickpeas in it the night before, so this was the perfect answer, and they had a dozen kinds of homemade cheesecake. We limited ourselves to only sampling one. One of the guys behind the counter told us that he knew a lot of people that won't eat there because the food is, well, not meat and potatos they are used to.

Unfortunately the day did not get any less hot, and suddenly it was 100 degrees, we were out on the pavement and having to stop every 10 miles max just to keep our heads cool, down some electrolytes, put on new sunscreen and regroup. People told us we were insane to be biking in this weather and we agreed completely with them. Also we were on a hunt for a Kansas map, which we had yet to find.

When we did come upon one we were slightly depressed to find that the best possible route for us might have been to continue on our shaded Katy! GRRRR. It took us a good few miles to get over that. We searched for routees and decided the best bet was not to go to Kansas City, but to Warrensburg for the night, and then continue onwards into Kansas the following day.

Andy called the local police to see if we could camp in there city park, and after some polite "no's" we realized (with mixed emotions) that we would have to spend the night in a motel, fortunately we found a pretty cheap Days Inn, cleaned up our bikes, cleaned up ourselves, ordered really good Italian food, and went to sleep. Soundly. We set ourselves to get up very early so we could try to beat the heat that had attacked us fiercely this day.

Day 26 July 5th Hermann to New Franklin

2008-07-07T16:41:00.001-07:00

The day in Hermann began with a few visits from Paul, a neighbor camper, biker enthusiast, and enthusiast in general. He had tried to speak to us on our way back in from the fireworks last night, but we had both had to use the restrooms that we had replied simply that we had to go too badly to talk. We met again this morning on the way to the john and he told us about his many trail adventures, all the good towns, flooding, Missouri grapes going to France, his life as a salesman, etc. After telling him that we were always hungry he also gave us some very tasty trail mix and dried mango on my return trip out of the bathroom.
Time for Pie! was our breakfast joint of choice. Scones and good coffee. The owner has Celiac disease but doesn't make anything gluten free because she would have to go crazy for the health-dept. Her glutenous scones were quite tasty however. I bet the pie was excellent.

Our trip back over the Missouri was misty. The fog coming off the river was thick, when we got back on the trail you could see where the river was simply by the long river of clouds ascending from it. See this picture below. It just covered the mountain range behind it.

We started off with a pretty hefty goal of 90 miles on the trail. Although flat with just a touch of an incline, the gravel was still hard work, especially in places where it was dense. (always something when you're pedaling) The weather was great, somewhere in the 80s. Much of the trail is in the shade too which was fantastic! The mosquitoes were dense from all the flooded areas, but as long as we were pedaling we seemed to keep them at bay. We passed a slew of little towns, some sad, store owners selling cigarettes to 10 year-olds without a second thought, some seeming to keep up despite economic pressures. One of these we had our lunch in, Hartsburg, also a German settled town, which was a quiet cute town with a winery, but we opted for Dotty's Cafe. We were not too pleased when we got the menus and only fried stuff and burgers were available, again. I fear that our energy dropped at this point and what could have been a nice friendly encounter was just a digestion of fried oils.

But not to linger, we set off further down the trail, passing Boat Henge (not terribly exciting- 5 boats stuck in the ground) and winded our way along the bluffs that started to appear along the coast. The KT for this part follows the path Lewis and Clark took on their expedition and there are many historic markers noting their progress. We made it to Rocheport for dinner, and we delighted, absolutely delighted to find their General Store a wonderful, fresh place for dinner. The shop was hosting a fundraiser for the flood damage with live music, wine tasting, etc. The tomato salad, veggie lasagna, and cheese/veggie quiche we dined on made our night and gave us the motivation to make the last 10 miles of our trip at sunset. We rolled down the now empty trail passing fields with leaping dear (this is pretty cheesy, but it was cool), the road was really strait and I watched Andy's shadow lengthen down it. We rolled into our campsite just as the sun went down, set up quickly to avoid the bugs that were attacking with vigor, took showers and went to bed.

Crossing the Missouri for the last time...

More later!

Day 25 July 4th St. Charles to Hermann, MO

2008-07-07T15:49:00.000-07:00

Andy looking, fine? this look didn't last long.

picasso's (rich on right) (tom and betty behind andy in the window)

less than flattering of me, but the river is good!

for mom (named after the Martha grape that grows here)

Bridge to Hermann!

Ahh. July 4th is probably the great holiday of this ride. It seemed that we were in an appropriate place to be celebrating it. Riding down the bricked road through Old St. Charles, passing buildings from the late 1700s, we were feeling something like patriotism. We turned down the street with the only cafe open by luck, Picasso's Art of Coffee, and met a few fine folks there. We were to discover that Missouri is by far the most talkative state we've been in thus far. Rich, who was sitting outside in his red, white, and blue tie-dyed t-shirt, gave us the rundown on the locals. He was our tour guide for the morning, as some few of the waking town passed us by. A older biker (also in spiffy red, white, and blue) passed us by, also training for an iron man. He was clad in all the spandexy bike attire, but looked like he had a very Irish farmer's face with a lifetime's sufficiency of sun and whisky and friendliness. Then Betty and Tom pulled up. Tom also gave us some touring, mostly of Astoria, OR (where we hope to end up and where he is from). They also shared their story of driving across Kansas on their honeymoon, waiting and waiting to open the bottle of champagne they had brought along until they saw the mountains, finally one appeared, so POP, but then, later on, it turned out to only be cloud.

So we were off finally, after 2 croissants a piece for breakfast (a dream I had as a child), we hopped back onto the KT, and set off on this journey, a total indulgent break from traffic, depressing roadkill (one day we saw over 30 dead turtles in a 30 mile stretch), and flatness.

We were enjoying our new found gravel road friend, chatting with another family of bikers, whizzing past others (we are not whizzers so this boosted our egos a bit), when a bolt for Andy's back rack broke and we spent a good 1/2 hr trying to piece something together (not one person asked if we were o.k.) which we did using parts of our dinging bell, only to find that 1/4 mile down the road in Defiance a bike shop was open with a drill to reopen the hole and fix it properly.

At the shop we spoke to MORE people, John and his wife in particular. He is an avid bicyclist who had done the US in 4 sections over 4 years. He was bringing his wife along this time to try her out (she seemed to be having some seat problems TMI!) and then they were off to visit his 102 year old mama! (she seemed ready for her to maybe kick the bucket). Also spoke to a man who just thought we were overpacked like his ex-wife until he found out we were not just doing the KT.

Dutzow for lunch, German place, good sandwiches, Naughty Nanas for dessert (sugar coated bananas in a pastry shell with vanilla ice cream on top), then off back down the trail. The trail runs along the Missouri and all of it kinda looks the same, which is beautiful with lots of bunnies and turtles hoping about.

At around 6:30 we hadn't gotten quite as far as we had planned but a nice grandma farmer lady who was taking her first bike ride down the trail told us they had fireworks in Hermann (a couple miles back across the Missouri). We had our trusty (sort of) guidebook to tell us there was camping in their city park, so we headed over their very fine bridge complete with bike lane. Hermann is a very German town up in the hills along the south side of the Missouri and seemed to be in full swing with the festivities of USA. We set up camp, trying desperately to avoid ant hills, and then rode our bikes to Trapper's Grill, spoke to everyone, and rode down just in time for some chilly fireworks over the river. Coal trains came by behind us as we watched these original "made in China" gunpowder artworks. It was the perfect American celebration.

If anyone goes along this trail (which is pretty much suitable for anyone reading this blog) definitely stop in Hermann. There are lots of wineries all along the trail too. We did not visit, but they are there waiting for you with open goblets.

Day 24 Belleville to St. Charles July 3rd

2008-07-07T10:22:00.000-07:00

crazy junglegym thing at City Museum in St. Louis (Jovial Ben told us about it)

Over the first Missouri crossing...

cabins in RV park

Big A bus-size trailers

tan lines in Belleville...

ready for the rain!

from the Eads Bridge into St. Louis (there was a crazy man who jumped the fence and ran all over taking pictures up and down the bridge and never said a word to us)

a pleasant end of Day 23....So as it happened we didn't make it to what I incorrectly called Horse Creek S.P. (Horseshoe actually), we did make it to Belleville (only 75+ miles you see) and as there were thunderstorms a'comin' we hustled to a nice little motel in this nice little college town (we're realizing that a school in a town makes a whole lot of difference in the community attitude) and hunkered down for the night.
We strolled down their downtown area to Mosaic cafe where we met Ben, quite a jovial barista who made a fresh pot of coffee for us, served us spinach salads, and gave us a good sense of the St. Louis area, biking, crime, art, and some free ice cream yummy. We are ashamed to say that we then walked down the street to the ice cream parlor for MORE ice cream.

So the next day we were set to get through St. Louis. We were pretty glad as we biked through East St. Louis that we had not made it to Horseshoe SP because unfortunately the descriptions you hear of this place are true, and I was uncomfortable riding through it. Everyone on the roadside was pleasant (even the saddest mangy dog we had ever seen), but the place was an antedote to any good day. None of the cinderblock joints were even in business anymore. Despite my vocal fears, Andy navigated us successfully through the area and we found ourself on the Eads Bridge with a nice view of the Arch. Yay! After stopping to take some pictures we then stopped again to change my, like 7th or 8th flat. I am starting to feel guilty about this!

We rode over to the Arch (we are officially in the West now! although still not halfway across), approached some biking cops (in a training class, they looked far less roadworthy than we felt at that moment), who directed us to Big Sharks (we are looking for maps of the Katy Trail we want to catch). Ate at a diner, Chili Mac's or something, downtown on the way (hotcakes and "eggs in the sauce"- chili eggs). The waitress was like the dictatress of the shop, and her voice nasally boomed across this very crowded joint, which kept our conversation to a minimum. You didn't want to interfere.

St. Louis seems like a very spunky town. Lots of great spaces, some used and some unused and looking ready for a ripening renaissance.

Rode down to Big Shark via Washington, Vandervinter, and Delmar, got a map of the Katy Trail, went across the street to their sister clothing store where we met Lindsey who had just returned from a most invigorating week in Colorado and seemed desperate for another adventure. We thought she was super cool because she actually felt endeared to our pieced together 2ndhand bikes. Bought some new shorts (the first pair had bit the dust). Ate again at a the delicious Chinese Noodle shop (the hot and sour soup we had on the house was fantastic). Our tastebuds were so ready for some new flavors.

Rode down Midland (like West end of Richmond), then Dorsett (strip mall stuff), and hopped onto the trail at Creve Coeur Lake which would meet up with the Katy trail. An older fellow training for his Ironman competition (this guy was hardcore with an Ironman tatooed on his bicep) escorted us kindly down the trail to the Katy's entrance. This may seem unneccessary, but the trail was actually a bit confusing, so we were happy to have the helping hand.

We didn't have much time left in the day and storms were headed our way. We didn't have it in us to get to the campsite about 20 miles down the trail, so we ended up heading back to the very start of the KT trail, St. Charles, for the evening where there was an RV park we hoped to camp in.

After crossing the very full Missouri River, we made our way over the crushed limestone trail to Old St. Charles. A spiffy little city modeled after Colonial Williamsburg, and like it also the first state capital (i hope my history is correct), it unfortunately had no camping either. The RV park (which had the biggest durn RVs we had ever seen) had little cabins but wouldn't allow camping. We weren't so sure we wouldn't mindlessly have gotten run over by an RV anyway. The cabins were fresh and clean, so after checking in, getting a recommendation for the RV park restaurant (named the best restaurant by RV Park magazine apparently), lubing up our chains and taking a shower, we mosied (we should have ridden the mile back into the downtown but we just couldn't stomach it) over to Beefeaters (the RV) restaurant, which was surprising good but expensive and cold, so we split an entree of prime rib au jus which ended up being plenty of food even for two hungry bikers.

After being able to catch up on a few phone calls, but I passed out, book in hand, in bed with an open pack of twizzlers that Andy had brought me.

More pics...(will try to get more interesting ones for your Miranda :)

2008-07-07T10:15:00.000-07:00

The "Green River"

Our quarters in Sebree's First Baptist Church

Crossing the Ohio River from Kentucky into Illinois

Flooded Kaskaskia River near the Mississippi

Our drying system....

Catching up on some pics....

2008-07-07T10:07:00.000-07:00

Andy posing with statues in Berea (in all honesty, I made him do it)

Ernst and I at his Danville bike shop. Such a nice man and fixed up my bike to a tea.

Our campsite in Hodgenville...

Deep fried PB&J in Hodgenville

Lincoln statue (obviously) in Hodgenville center

Day 22 and 23

2008-07-02T12:31:00.000-07:00

Just a quick post. The librarian in Red Athens, IL very nicely let us kick some computer gaming kids off so we could use the station quickly.

We are on our way up to Horse Creek State Park, just outside St. Louis. We didn't get too far yesterday. We ate at this great vegetarian restaurant twice called Longbranch, which was fantastic and our waitress was quite an interesting lady and got to telling us about the strong Sufi community of Carbondale that has it's own organic farm, etc. We got our bikes worked on (again, we are building our bikes (esp. mine) across country), rode off, then came back to tweak the bike, then rode off again and about 1 mile out met Randy who had come from the west coast. He seemed to have had some rough travels but we were impressed with his solo journey and exchanged tips for what the other had already seen, especially some ways to cheat the Adventure Cycling system, which occasionally seems to want the last laugh.

We rode onto Murphysboro, which Randy had described to us as a bit of a dump, but honestly after seeing some of the poorer parts of Kentucky it seemed pretty lush and welcoming. We dined at an Italian place recently opened by some Sicilians who had just moved there with American accents (we couldn't quite put it all together). The food was very good and we rode onto our free night at Murphysboro Lake State Park.

There was another cyclist there, but apparently he was already in bed, but he awoke Andy at 3am with his big bike light when he started riding around the campground for 20 minutes and then left. I am glad I am a heavy sleeper.

And again, raccoons ate the snacks we had bought for our intended longer journey. We will learn.

Today our day started out swell. A place called Tippey's for breakfast and much debate about where we should go next with the Mississippi supposed to crest at our next destination, and the other alternate road closed from flooding, we chose route 127/13, which so far has been pretty pleasant. Especially our meeting of Clark and Curtis, two lovely middle aged gents 600 miles into their 800 mile tour of southern Illinois on very nicely outfitted recumbent bicycles, complete with bug shield. They kindly gave us their Illinois bike map and a pat on the back. Definitely started our day out right (not to mention that for the first 25 miles we had the tailwinds behind us).

We stopped in Pinckneysville and stocked up on food and since have been riding with the wind pushing us sideways and some scary tractor trailers. I fell off/blew off my bike about 4 miles ago and now we are taking a breather in this nice library and on the hunt for Ibuprofen. Yum! We have about another 30 miles today (60 already) until we hit the park.

Love and missing you all.

Day 21 Sebree to Marion

2008-07-01T10:53:00.000-07:00

One of the bits of info we had picked up from Bob and Violet was that it was possible to shear off a day of our journey by taking a more direct route (100 mi vs. 175) to Carbondale. We opted for this journey and were off nice and early.

We seemed to stop and eat constantly this day (twice before we hit the Ohio River). In Morganfield, we met Miss Betty Vance at Deb and Jen's Diner (all spruced up with some neon hot colors) who'd been waiting tables for about 50 years, and gave us a good dose of the town's character, as did the other patrons of the restaurant. One gent told us it was "God's country" and that we'd be meeting a lot of good people. Although this was meant to be reassuring it unsettled us for some reason. We are the weird ones I guess.

Although this route was shorter than the others, we definitely paid the price in fear factor for about 20 miles with tractor trailors once we were in Illinois.

The sky got very very big then. Almost all consuming. And the corn. Everywhere. I was going through the jukebox of my head like crazy at this point, from Peter Paul and Mary to Modest Mouse to the chicken dance. It was ALL there. There just wasn't that much to see.

Fortunately the shoulder widened eventually and we were able to zone out a bit and just pedal and breath. We were delivered to Marion just before dark where we camped in a very nice RV and campground park that had a very Kubrick feeling to it after dark. We ordered a Papa Johns pizza and went promptly to bed.

Today we are in Carbondale and heading up towards St. Louis (we won't get that far today).

Day 20 Falls of Rough to Sebree

2008-07-01T10:19:00.000-07:00

Started with another buffet breakfast. We had the same server, Nancy, as the night before, what a crazy schedule, but she seemed to warm up to us and kept us entertained as we had probably already run out of things to say to one another in this location.

We got off on our route for about a 75 mile day to Sebree. The riding started out pretty well. Stopping seemed to cause more trouble: I fell down twice, once on my way to the bush, and the second time pushing off right by a big ditch. It was a long way down and I really wish someone could have seen it, esp. as joints were definitely more sore afterwards and our solar charger a little worse for the wear.

The landscape got more monotonous (corn) (corn) (corn) and weirder as all these Perdue farm "No Admittance" signs appeared, and the huge metal buildings, most likely housing tens of thousands of chickens had no windows, and looked more like maximum security prisons. The NSA would probably be proud.

The WIND. THE WIND! We felt like we were not moving for the last 30 miles of our trip. We had to stop almost every 5 miles to take a break (usually its every 10-15) and at one point we just lay down in the middle of the road and let the warm asphalt be our hot stone massage.

Sebree was our saviour!
We actually had not done so badly timewise, but our bodies were crying out for rest at 5. We were excited to meet our host for the night, the First Baptist Church. Andy called from the gas station, and they invited us to come on up. We were ushered over to the little house, where Violet (the pastor's wife) greeted us in her Sunday best (she was on her way to sing soprano solos at a inter-parochial musical gathering), showed us our luxurious quarters: mattresses, sofas, showers, ping-pong table, it was the youth room of their church), bio-freeze gel, Kentucky pins, and a few sections of the Bible. Told us if we could wait till 8 she would make us dinner (YES!) and invited us to make ourselves comfy and clean until then. We were in Heaven, Bob (the pastor) came down not long after and introduced himself and invited us up for cookies and fellowship in the upstairs part of the parish hall. We gladly accepted and sat down for the adult sunday school with a plate of cookies, french dip, sorbet, really really fudgy brownies, and peanut butter crackers.
We pulled up to the table and everyone (mostly retirerees) introduced themselves. There were several spunky 90 year olds at the table who kept the conversation going. Everyone was very accepting of us as we settled down to look over some verses (they are pretty used to cyclists as they had 33 just last week!). What then struck me as a very strange and wonderful coincidence was that it was verses that I had been thinking about (for some reason- this doesn't happen often at all) in my head just a few hours previously, the ones that ask us not to think of what we shall eat, and what we shall wear, etc. for God will provide us will all this. So strangely here were these very verses reminding us not to worry and be anxious about our journey.

We did laundry (again) and then Violet was home and ready for us to come over for a home-cooked meal! How absolutely fabulous. We got to know each other much better over her delicious cornbread, creamed corn, green beans, black eyed peas and relish, applesauce, sweet tea, and some donated ribs. Very very good stuff. They shared much with us and we were like empty vessels that needed to hear some of it. So after hugs, prayers and good lucks, we were sent to bed for some much-needed rest and it was very satisfying rest.

Day 18/19 til Falls of Rough

2008-07-01T09:49:00.000-07:00

Day 18
We did make it to Hodgenville, after a good 2 hour downpour, which, although, really beautiful to watch the rain coming over the fields and cool us down a bit, did eventually prune us up a good bit and we were happy to dry out.

We stopped at the first friendly place in Hodgenville, the Cozy Cafe, which the owner had created by simply transforming the front room of her house and porch into a cafe. We ate some baklava, had warm joe, and talked to her and her daughter and grandbabies and great-grand jack-russell/chiwawa (sp?) puppies on their porch for a bit, before we somewhat grumpily biked off in search of shelter for the night.

We were debating between motelling it and finding the county park that offered camping to cyclists, as we road past statues of Honest Abe as a child and president (Hodgenville is where he was born and raised for a bit, and they are definitely, and justifiably proud of this fact). The decision was almost decided for us when we scoped out the park and Donald, the park's super, drove up to us in his truck and told us to head over to the pavilion area as severe storms were supposed to occur that night and we'd be a bit more protected there. This turned out to be great advice, as the storms were severe, but protected under this large pavilion, we were able to keep our tent open and watch the storms all night.

We showered in the park's pool restrooms, which were sort of like spickets above your heads and the shower curtain was an enormous piece of plywood that you just sort of propped up against the stall, before enjoying some local pork tenderloin (soo freakin good) and frozen vegetables (so freakin necessary) at the local grill. Our dinner was topped off by deep-fried pb and j sandwich with cool whip, and although Andy may think this sacriledge, I actually wasn't too impressed with the dessert.

Day 19 Saturday
Slept well enough with the storms and then were back off to the Cozy Cafe for checkers, conversation, and coffee (it was the only thing open early and the lady was really nice).

We headed to Rough River Dam State Park. A long day of biking along Route 84 with lots of corn fields, golden-orange hay fields, hills and flats. It was a pretty gorgeous day for riding, although the storm clouds kept faking us out, and I felt like my knees were "feeling the approaching storm" all day long, a bit to my chagrin. I also kept having the sense that we had entered some sort of kingdom and were now biking up some long threshold to the palace doors. This was the first day I noticed how big the sky had gotten.

Lucy and Alea Lucas (mom and daughter) greeted us at Hardin Springs (about halfway) at their Double L grocery/hostel with a couple of free popsicles (what I knew as a kid to be 'chilli-willies') which was perfect, and then were super hospitable and eager to talk to us. They had recently purchased a school that closed down and although working full time eslewhere and running this store, are trying to get something going with this great building. Andy suggested artist-residencies/colony or something of this nature as Lucy seemed to be very interested in bringing more art to the area. So if any artists are interested in getting away to beautiful country (although if you are vegetarian this may be a more difficult undertaking- stock lots of frozen veggie burgers) contact us or her 270-862-5129.

Ok. Getting long-winded and running out of alloted lib. time.

We got to Falls of Rough, exhausted, mentally fatigued with our brains running only on meat pretty much and not a lot of nutrients, but happy (esp. as we had gained an hour and entered Central Time....w0ohoo), took a brief dip in the dammed up lake, and then ate the buffet meal at the lodge (all vegetarian yay!), fell asleep in their big comfy chairs in front of a Tina, Cher and Oprah interview, did laundry, realized we had set our tent on an ant hill, and quickly took shaking action. I think the locals thought we were insane as we moved our tent all around the campsite. It was supposed to rain but didn't and we slept very very well.

Just a quick hello...

2008-06-30T13:42:00.000-07:00

Just crossed the Ohio River into Illinois. Loving the flatness, although not the big mackers. We are trying for a 100 miler today from Sebree, KY (where we spent the night with some very blessed people) to Carbondale, IL, so we will catch up on descriptions tomorrow. (I know you all can hardly wait! I need to do it for myself so everything doesn't blur together.) We are missing you all and wanted to say hi.

Day 17/18 Berea to Danville, Danville to Hodgensville

2008-06-27T08:27:00.001-07:00

So we have deterred from our TransAm route a bit and are posting from Lebanon, KY where we hope to eat a delicious burger n' fries from Big Jim's before we head out.

Yesterday we left Berea on a stomach full of sugary nutritionless continental breakfast. Continental has never been so inaccurately used. We were rewarded however by some less rigorous terrain (still hilly), trees, and friendly horses and cows. We stopped for some sandwiches at the saddest little grocery that we have seen so far. The window glass was broken and dirty. The inside was a bit dungeonlike with about 3 ft square of shelf space for every can of potted meat. The lady made us some much needed sandwiches with love, really good lettuce and tomato, and Miracle Whip (which seems to be a favorite here). The shop was apparently also the playground for her cute red-haired son and his babysitter, an ageless Kentuckian, maybe her husband, brother, or father.

We moved on through these curling roads without too much traffic, successfully navigated (with some locals help) several 'unsigned' turns, which is always a bit intimidating. Lots of tree canopies and creeks, a saved turtle, and some dogs that sounded like they were choking on their own spit as they ran after us. We must smell delicious.

At Bryantsville, we made the decision to leave our beloved TransAm map, and go off course to Danville (pop. 15,000) that contains the only bike shop for the next 6 days or so.

We expected our time in Danville to be brief. I was looking for some handlebar attachments to change my grip, but it turned into a rebirth of my bicycle thanks to the shop owner Ernst. We had lunch while he started working some magic at the Hub Coffeehouse, where we were photographed as locals by a lady from Southern Living, spoke to one of the waiters there and found out he intends to relocate to Manhattan in the fall for school at Union Theological Seminary, hopefully he looks us up.

Back at Danville Bike and Footwear, Ernst had taken complete inventory of my bike, whose name is Agnes, and slowly but surely, tightened things that were about to fall off, added toe clips, the handlebar attachements, a new front wheel (with pointers that the back soon needed replacing), realigned the brakes, adjusted the derailer, and most excitingly switched out the front part of the drive train, so that it's no longer a double, but a triple, so I now, most excitingly, have 20 working gears, as opposed to 13! Wahoo! And Matyr Andy can use his lowest gears as well, so he doesn't force himself to "sympathy" ride anymore.

Ernst and his eldest son (who is currently gardening in Monet's Giverny) had done the TransAm(ish) route over a 6 year period. Having taken a few weeks each summer to complete it on a Tandem bike, while his son was 10-16, he knew what we were up against and felt compassion even with a full house of bikes to be worked on. We so appreciate his help. His service was pretty superior than what he had previously encountered in the, um, Richmond bike shops.

His helper Travis was also a pretty interesting fellow. He had recently been run off the road on his bike and was recooperating by helping out at this shop. He plays banjo and fiddle and bikes around to various music festivals about. We want to look up his NYC friends' band, Powder Keg.

Needless to say, it was about 5pm when we got out of the bike shop, so Danville ended up being our resting place for the night. Still a 45 mile day.

We scurried over to the Pioneer Playhouse Campground (a funky little dinner/theater/campground, where apparently John Travolta got his start at about age 15.) We ate at the empty Red Rooster (rooster everything) and the fried okra hit the spot!

It was supposed to thunderstorm, but it never did rain, just lots of thunder and lightning. We slept well, got up and have ridden through Perryville and now to Lebanon. Our goal for tonight is Hodgensvillle.

Day 14 Haysi, VA to Hindman, KY, 15 Hindman to Booneville, 16 Booneville to Berea

2008-06-25T11:26:00.000-07:00

The Hilltop motel view...

Andy at the breaks...

Smooshed at the Breaks Interstate P.

As you might expect, we did finally make it up that Big "A" Mountain, (and the following day we saw it on a raised map at a state park, and it's name, definitely suits, even the church atop it included it in its title), and to Council, where we didn't stop for free camping, but decided we should continue our trip onto Haysi for another 20 mi. or so. Fortunately for us, after this big push, most of the way was downhillish, so our main concern was squeaking brakes, curvy tight turns, and trying not to whiteknuckle our handlebars the whole way down. The road hugged one side of the mountain and the "towns", Council, Bee, Davenport, Birchleaf (all of which were sort of indistinguishable from each other and had 1 in-service gas/grocery between them) were settled on the other side and just below this Sand Lick road that runs along a winding river.
Just to note that these mountains are impressive. I really had no idea that VA's Appalachians got so tall and turny as you get into coal mining country. We were definitely glad it was Saturday and the trucks weren't running. Apparently next to the mountains, they are the biggest impediment to success.
At Haysi (pop. 194), we stayed in our first motel: the Hill Top Motel, which, as the name suggests is at the top of a big hill about 1 1/2 long. It seems to be our lot to end the day with a big hill of some sort. The motel was a VFW Post site and the gent running the place seemed to be a Vet himself, as he had quite a bit of trouble getting around but had a wicked sense of humor and used it to help us loosen up a bit, taking advantage of our gullible, hot, and apparently feeble brains.
We ate food from Martha's Place, just around the corner: Chili, Pabst, Coffee, Bloomin' Onion, Country fried steak (Just what my mom, Martha, would of course have served us at home! Actually, other than the French waiters pictured on the wall and the friendly, but muletted, waitress Chris, I don't know that much of the place would have struck of chord with you, Mom).
We felt much better after our night's sleep here, but we just couldn't get up in the morning. It was raining when we first rose at 6, but this was really just an excuse not to get going. When we finally made it out of the place around 8:45, we couldn't get our host up, and ended up leaving the key in a potted plant by the door and a message on the answering machine.
After a quick breakfast at the only open place, the gas station, we headed up to the Breaks Interstate Park (bridging VA and KY and lovingly called "The Grand Canyon of the South" or was it East?). The climb killed us, and it was only with the help of some meditation, Janine's Chi balls for me, that we ever made it to the top. Wow. We can't totally discern whether the hills are getting harder, or it just seems that way as our legs and lungs get tighter. But I would presume that this day, was well, killer.
Once at the top we felt that we deserved a break of sorts, and there is a book in the park that other bikers on this route sign. So we headed into the park for the 3 mile loop, to see the scenes, the river and railroad, the Towers (of rock), route 80 leading to Kentucky.
Our next little ride took us into KY where it seemed that more rock immediately sprung up on the sides of the road, and took us to Elkhorn City. Although it was mostly downhill, our legs still felt like they were working pretty durn hard, so in Elkhorn we stopped for some grub and ran into two other bikers heading East, Ben and Nick, who seemed like super nice fellows, and were almost done for the day. They had about 17 miles to go to Haysi, whereas we had about 60+ still to Hindman, KY. Again, they seemed well put together and had trailers on their bikes. They recommended us to the Knott County Historical Society B&B once we got to Hindman (there is no camping for quite a while) and we set that as our site.
This day was excruciatingly long after that, but we put in some good, hard, riding. Dogs chased, we ate our snacks, we exchanged a few waves with folks, but we felt as if the climate changed a bit. People didn't seem as friendly to us as they had in VA, or to anyone. There wasn't a place to stay for 80 miles. The dilapidation of these towns was even more extreme than on the VA side. People didn't wave back at you and they seemed mighty suspicious of outsiders.
Again we were so happy it was Sunday and we were spared the coal trucks, as we saw tons of them parked on the sides of roads, lots of slides and strip mining operations, and also about 20 massive elk up on the sides of mountains.
It was almost ten (fortunately one of the longest days of the year) and had just gotten totally dark when we arrived at David Smith's B&B in Hindman. He greeted us with a smile and ice tea, got us hot, slightly sulfuric showers, settled into the huge expanse of a tent that they keep there for cyclists, made us veggie burgers after we called the local pizza joint and they had no drivers, and ice cream (on the house). The only bad part was that it too is on the top of a great, steep, nearly vertical, hill. We walked our bikes both up and down the following morning.
David was quite an interesting host. His herd of tetradactal cats were beautiful, and one, Inky, was just having a litter as we arrived. He had written and compiled an extensive book on Knott County, after setting aside his career as a Christian actor for many years. He is definitely the rich kind of character you find in a very well developed novel. And apparently his sister is a Bikram yoga instructor in FL and they hope to have collaborative retreats at the B&B. I think he said they have 150 acres, but it may have been 450. Either way, quite a few.
It was hard for us to leave our pleasant stay after eating a tasty breakfast with a precious, tiny, polydactal kitten in my lap, but we finally did. Our camera at this point was totally toast and the pictures we took of the place didn't come out, but I recommend this place highly.
Still a bit foggy around 9, we set our sites on Booneville as our resting place for the coming evening, and hoped since it was about 67 miles away (about 15 miles shorter of a day than the previous) and we were getting off earlier that we would make it there before nightfall.
I can't say that there was much that was exceptional this day, more of the same. The day started off very pleasantly. The terrain helped stretch out our legs as we continued to head west, and the roads were fairly untrafficked and seemed fresh after the rain and fog burned off from the morning. Then of course we turned off our our friendly roads and back onto 80, this time with a much different character. There were large shoulders on the road, but that didn't stop the indimidation we felt as trucks full of coal and other mined bits of earth flew by us at lightning speeds. Debris from trucks and ridged shoulders (to keep these drivers from falling asleep) made the riding a bit hairy and less pleasant, not to mention the hills. We were also shocked (unfortunately Andy's panoramic shots of this didn't make our camera's dying lineage) when we came upon a large area, probably a mile along the highway, where mountains had been totally razed. It was a site to see. Or rather, no sight to see, as there had very obviously been large mountains here, and now there was just nothing. Absolutely nothing.
We came upon a Walmart shopping complex outside of Hazard, where we met Eileen and Cono, two retired Manhattanites, who were heading west on our same route and about an hour ahead of us. Although they had a man with a van, Bill who had biked across 5 times himself, we were still pretty impressed with these folks. We let them get on and went to by ourselves a new camera at Radioshack and get ourselves some Mexican. The camera was probably worth the money, the Mexican turned out not to be worth the $11 it cost us for lunch. Many miles later, we were still grumbling about our tummies, and although Andy resisted further ingestion, I was popping Tums like a regular addict. Around Buckhorn Lake State Park (a bit off our route), the terrain travelled out of the valleyish nature and back into the mountains. We put in some good legwork despite our belching bellies, and gave ourselves some good breaks, although we were both less than pleased when I decided to stop at a gas station halfway down a good hill, and therefore lost some much needed momentum for the climb that followed. No one ran us off the road and an older couple stopped to ask us if we were 'man and wife', which is obviously important information to have about a couple of bicyclists climbing some bloody steep hills. We stopped in Buckhorn proper for some good fruit salad Yay! and the folks were very nice. They had Konan the Barbarian on their TV set in the market and I have never enjoyed having a TV in an eating establishment, but I was actually grateful to zone out on a good helping of nonsense drama.
The rest of the day we dragged our feet but enjoyed the countryside, even as we passed trailers that looked like they should be condemned, but then that produced romping dogs and/or seemingly happy children and often obese parents.
Generally we have been amazed at the number of hillside cemeteries we have seen. In many places it seems that the population of the dead greatly outweighs that of the living, and the cemeteries themselves look better cared for and attended to, with flowers and the like, than the abodes of the current residents.
We passed yet another British biker, who was on his 116th mile of the day and part of a larger group of British policemen who were travelling across country in sections (and with a pretty kick-bottom RV that passed us by as we finished our conversation.) You can check them out at www.bobbyonabike.com.
Finally we made it to Booneville and not a hill too soon, where we were delighted to find the amazing First Presbyterian Church that has a setup in the back for cyclists to camp. The setup was so perfectly generous and simple and Christian. They have a (cold) shower and sink, a porto-john, a covered picnic table area, and a nice big grassy area that is pretty private from the main road. We pitched our tent and cleaned up and then headed off to seek out some of the local fixins. The main restaurant Dooley's Diner, was closing up, but we headed to Spencer's dairy bar and ate some potatoes, tater tots for me and ripple fries for Andy, bbq and a burger. We met up again with Cono, Eileen, and Bill, (conoandeileen.livejournal.com) who had eaten at Dooley's and were staying at Linda's B&B, where they were planning on taking a rest day. I think this partially inspired us to let ourselves do the same once we got to Berea.
We slept well at the Church, after watching the many many lightning bugs go about their business along the tree-lined river and the adjoining corn fields; the character of the developed part of Booneville, with it's gas stations, etc. was hidden from view.
We got our share of fog and Dooley's in the morning. We got up around 5:30, but by 8:30 the fog was still super thick. We loaded up on snacks at the gas station (these gas stations are grocery stores, I do not know how anyone survives on the kind of "nutrition" offered by these places, lots and lots of folks have gardens/farms on their property, I do hope they get to eat a lot of it!). Our map didn't show much in the way of stops until we got close to Berea (our ending destination).
After we went up our first mountain, we turned off the large road we were on and into less dense areas. The fog cleared and the farms got progressively larger and pretty as the day moved on. We passed 3 more bikers going the opposite direction, 2 of which were on a tandem, but they were in no mind to stop and chat, so we let them be and kept both of our momentums going. We were to discover that they had just covered about 20 miles of really difficult terrain, so I completely understood that they were more interested in finishing their day than we were pre-trauma. Our thighs seemed to grow ever tighter, and we were just barely able to keep charlie horses at bay. We did have to push up a few hills, but we also made it up some daunting ones that didn't even seem possible looking at them. So all in all we were proud of ourselves, and the fact that we had decided to give ourselves the gift of a day of rest kept us going.
We started to feel pretty punchy as we approached Berea, but we made it here in good time and were done by about 3 o'clock.
The town is an odd mixture of college, deeply religious folks, and normal people. It certainly has the most diverse population of people we've seen. The college was originally founded to be an interracial institution in 1855. In 1904 a law was passed forbidding the education of white and non-white students in the same class, and it wasn't until 1950 that the law was altered and the college's doors were opened to Blacks and Indians again. Still better than much of the rest of the country. The school's banners display "learning, labor, and service" as the students here all work to keep their tuition costs low. More here: http://www.berea.edu/about/
We ate last night at the Black Feather, about a month old, very good food, and not greasy! but good local produce including rhubarb and peach tart with vanilla ice cream. Some parts of this trip are not hard :).
We settled down in the Knight's Inn for cleaning and comfort and to let our stuff explode everywhere in the room. (Although I think this is driving Andy a bit nuts) We watched Harry Potter and slept soundly. Today we have been catching up on business, eating at more of the local haunts, and just taking it easy. Tomorrow our journey will continue. Hopefully our bodies will be ready again. They were really begging for a rest day. We have tried to oblige since we are asking so much of them, pushing hard, eating lots but not often healthfully (at least not in the Michael Pollan fashion we usually strive for).
Berea marked the end of one of our TransAm maps, so tomorrow we start on the third section for us which will take us into a new time zone and into Illinois. We are keeping our ears open about the flooding and hope that you are all safe and sound wherever you are, especially in California and the mid-west.

Day 13, just outside Marion to Haysi (Hays EYE!)

2008-06-25T08:43:00.000-07:00

On the way down from Hawter's Gap...

and a little further down...

We are sitting (from transcription you see) at the Sidewalk Cafe in Honaker, CA on white-washed metal cafe chairs and table (that remind me of my great Aunt Odell's outdoor furniture. Caddy-corner to us (because it's a curvy little town and we are sort of at a Flatiron building-esque intersection, is a Rapid Cash Advance Center that has gone our of business.
Once again we are the sole customers (they're busier during the week and everyone is all the ball park today.)
We had a good night's rest, rose at six and made it about 1/2 a mile down the road before our eyes fell on a Little's Snack Bar where we saw fruit outside. We filled our fists with plums, a nectarine, apple and pear and went in to discover that they also served our normal sloppy breakfast. The coffee left something to be desired but our eggs had flavor and my gravy biscuit was quite tasty.
At the Sidewalk Cafe now, we are having some classy chicken salad with sliced grapes and walnuts that is pretty delicious and a good Reuben (although not NYC style with half a cow stuffed between two slices of bread).
The morning has been hard but fulfilling. I need to remember to put on sunblock more frequently as I start to feel flushed and have a permanent expression of embarrassment on my face.
We got off Rt. 11 around Meadowview and back onto our blessed MAP at Rt. 80, a windy beautiful route though Hawter's Gap. Everyone warned us about that mountain, telling us we'd be pushing for most of the way. We didn't push, but after stopping twice in a 5 miles climb we made it to the top... although we broke our camera on the way. The county was beautiful. The mountains were closer in than before and and the fields are bulbous and beautiful. I'm getting sick of seeing so many dead creatures in the road though. It really makes you sad to see so many smooshed animals. So far people driving have been pretty respectful, but we are told that KY and MS are other stories.
Our legs are pretty tight after the somewhat chilly downhills, the uphills have been killer, but we're taking a good rest now. According to the elevation chart we have a good bit of climbing still to come this afternoon (I guess that is to be expected). We stopped at the Honaker library, but it's closed on Saturdays, which is sad because it was just this little white cottage on a hill, with lots of potted flowers about and trees shading a sweet little bench. But instead we are at this main intersection of Honaker. I am trying to sit ladylike for all the cars going by and coming up the hill towards us, but it is hard to care all the time. The town's population is about 945 and I think all of the cards have driven by.
We've seen a good number of CF flags and quite a few signposts with "white power" sprayed over whatever DOT instructions were there before. I hate to say it, but if I were a black person, I'd be much more cautious about doing this route. We definitely haven't seen any posters for Obama, but really not for anyone for that matter.
Andy and I have decided that if we lived in this part of VA we would have some serious Southern drawls lickety split, because we are already starting to encroach on our Yankeefied speech (if you could even call it that.)
Last night I had a weird dream about teaching yoga. But I think it was weird enough that I should keep it to myself. But I think it pretty much centers around me thinking I'm forgetting how to teach. We've obviously been sitting here too long and it's time to start our climb to Council, and then see it we can make it to Haysi for the night. The climb to Council is up a mountain called Big "A" Mountain. It is actually called that. So apparently we are allowed to use profane language as we make it up it.

Internet strikes again...and ending Day 12

2008-06-25T08:16:00.000-07:00

So the past few days have begun to run together and the route has been a bit dry on libraries and internet, fruits and vegetables, flatness and leisure, however the beauty is spectacular, some of the poverty mind-blowingly third-world, the people friendly but often suspicious, the dogs chasersm the mountains tall, and the weather perfect... We have been wearing ourselves out and having a good old time doing it. So good that we are taking today off in Berea, KY, home of Berea college founded by Cassius Clay. Again, we are in their public library with a load of chilluns looking at fuzzy and slimy creatures. I guess that is a premiere summertime activity.

So way back when in Wytheville, we travelled on the librarians recommendation to CJ's Pizza and Subs. This adventure started out quietly with some ice tea and empty restaurant but pretty quickly a schoolbus full of temporary workers from North Carolina and Georgia pulled up to devour the pizza house's supplies. These folks, about 60 or more, were all on their way up to Iowa to help out with the flooding. They had called CJ's about 30 minutes ahead of time to order 60 pizzas these hungry men and a few women. Some were pretty fit, others looked a bit less than able-bodied for the hard work they were heading for. Some had just left their jobs/life to travel up, work hard, be paid well, sleep in hotels and get $30 a day to eat. Doesn't sound too bad, although I imagine the work is backbreaking and the psychological toll perhaps heavy. But most seemed to feel a sense of duty towards helping out their fellow man. This one man, who had a pretty groovy sense of humor, gave a pretty vivid description of how all these full grown (at least) folks were squunched up into this schoolbus, faces presses up at against the window, knees up around their ears. CJ's was able to provide them with 30 pizzas, and got us one as well, soem salad and really really good sweet tea.
As we continued down route 11 after this lunch, we met 2 British guys going the other way who had started and San Fran (and on a previous journey done the Southern route). They looked very fit and put together, hauling little trailers and small front packs, they seemed quite hip and unscathed by the journey. I felt like we were looking pretty rough in comparison. Very jovial guys, they gave us some tips, including putting flags on our bikes (which we have yet to do) to keep away the scary coal trucks, and taking a route slightly different from what our maps were offering, and stay on route 11 to shave off a bit of time and some hills. We took their advice and covered another 20 miles or so from there. So today probably 70-75 mi. The road ran right along 81, but since everyone was on the interstate, traffic was light and the road was strait. We stopped at Walmart (mixed feelings) and found Andy a new stuff sack for his sleeping bag and I mistakenly bought some 97% fat free beef jerky. Could meat be stranger?
We ended up sleeping at the "Interstate Campgrounds", our first pvt. camping experience. Had our dinner of beef jerky, V8, nuts and ice cream under the fluorescent lighting of the campground. We stashed our food in the back stall of the girl's bathroom, did our laundry (fantastic!) and went to bed in this bizarre little village of campers, apartments, and ours the lonely lonely tent.

Direct from Wytheville... Day 12

2008-06-20T11:07:00.001-07:00

Andy with solar panels and wind stuff along Catawba Valley's Blacksburg Rd., maybe 785?

Just pretty, Catawba Valley.

The New River Lounge.

Not to offend anyone, but skeleton and puddle.

Andy posing with the big house.

Clear water at Claytor Lake...

So when last we left you we were booted off our computer in the lovely Christiansburg Public Library... now at our new library setup in Wythesville the same thing could happen again. Although there are about 50 school children in here being shown reptiles, so no one is really interested in the computers aside from their chaperones.

If you checked the blog yesterday I added a few more pics to those posts.

Yesterday on the route to Christiansburg we were in the Catawba Vallery. This was probably by far the most gorgeous site we had seen thus far. The hills were frequent and sometimes literally breathtaking, but it was a shaded beautiful day, and the valley was just spectacular. I highly recommend this drive, walk, bike to anyone!

At Ellett we popped some vitamin waters and only a few minutes later grabbed our Clif bars, but both of us were starting to feel a bit sick (probably from the excessive beef we had eaten at all three of our meals the day before), but we made it to Christiansburg and sat in the library for a bit, and let our tummies settle a bit.

Then of course we were still hungry, even with unsettled stomachs, so we set off in search of lunch, but before we knew it were out of Christiansburg and on our way to Radford. So no lunch yet.

The hills however were kind to us for a bit. Daylillies were everywhere and cheered us on our hungry ride to Radford. There was a bit more of a suburbia feel here, and less country, but the trip went pretty quickly and we had some fun downhills that made our leg hair stand on end. For this portion at least, I was glad to be going westbound on the trail.

We entered Radford with our eyes on a salad, hoping to find a little college town favorite, all we found was our neighborhood grill and bar, Applebee's. This however turned out to be perfect. It was the dead hour, we sat outsite with our bikes, our legs up, shoes off, and a big salad (and appetizer sampler I must admit), and some pretty friendly waitstaff.

After leaving we immediately crossed the New River (which apparently flows North) and entered Pulaski county. Our route took us along the river which was quite picturesque and apparently lots of drunk college kids think so too. RC cola anyone?

I got off the bike to go relieve myself in the woods (you don't notice some things when you have to go really bad!), only to find myself face to face with this lovely skeletal sight.

We made it to Claytor Lake Park without too much more ado (some DQ on the way though). It's just off 81 before Newbern and we recommend this park. The water was gorgeous and clear. We went for a slightly illegal swim after hours. The sand on the beach felt divine between our toes. Apparently the lake is where the New is dammed up. Showers, campfire, some miso soup, my misplaced wallet which caused some tension, a just less than full moon, and then bed.

Sometime in the night, we were awoken by lots of animal noises that persisted for sometime. They made our nature night outings a bit, scarier? but we were largely unphased and slept it off.

Around 5:30 when we awoke, we discovered that one of our bags of food, which had been sitting atop this lantern hanger thing and happens to be the stuff sack for Andy's sleeping bag, was no longer there. So I set out, shamefully, to look for our missing snacks.

The animal noises were fully explained when we found half devoured and ripped everything, including the stuff sack, a bit further back in the woods. Fortunately no other campers seemed to be up so my embarrassment was limited to our company. All the food had to be thrown out, and the stuff sack is still in sad need of repair, and apparently we need a few more lessons on the ways of Scouting. This raccoon or whatever it was, even liked the Peaceful Planet meal that we had and my current book, Atonement. Andy suggested that it was a section in the book where they were eating. Ah those AMO bars.

Anyway, we recovered and moved onto our bikes, with me dragging my feet and ego a bit. We sat ourselves down at the McGuire campground cafe just a bit up the road and doused ourselves with coffee and nice company, although I am not sure about the nutrition value of the meal. The lady there, Ms. McGuire, told us of the trials of the folks in the area, and how it's just so hard for people to sustain themselves since the furniture and garment industries have moved out.

These comments followed us throughout our morning, with tidbits of political discussion.

Andy got his first flat, and a half really. We played with my brakes on the bike, which are rubbing a bit. Had some snacks and tried to be patient with each other. So far successfully. The rode a lot along and around 81 which wasn't always as pretty as the previous day's ride and the difference in air quality was immediately apparent to us. Getting up to Wytheville was pretty spectacular though and Andy rode down to the shop while I typed this. So we should be on our way. We are hoping to hit Sugar Grove tonight, but it's already later than we imagined so we'll see.

We miss you all and love all your comments. They keep us going.

Day 10 and the middle of 11, Smith Mtn Lake to Salem and off

2008-06-19T09:59:00.001-07:00

Andy at the Lake.

We still love each other. (for now... :)

Andy finishing off our breakfast. Yes, I posed both plates in front of him, but the finger and tongue are real time happenings.

Our stuff seems to have dried out from the Tstorms a few nights ago. Andy really did a fantastic job navigating yesterday for 11 hours! (We checked Google maps, and it looks like we went 95 miles!)

We have gotten off late today though, but not without its pleasures. We very awkwardly started our 3rd campfire. Andy commented that if he had an entire forest of dry wood he probably couldn't start one, but we did after many minutes and much smoke and without the aid of gas. Packed out tent, did a very good yoga session, spoke to a couple of the camp hosts (we have our eyes on some of you to get on this track- more on that later- very civilian jobs), and then we biked the couple miles down to the lake. Stupendous. Everyone should go and stay a week and get a floating device of some sort to go exploring with. We wanted to dive in, but knew, as it was already after 11 that we should really get our tails going.

We didn't go too far until we stopped at the White House Restaurant for some Mexican Chili Salad and their Hamburger Plate special. I will not say too much about this food, except that it was delicious in the moment, too much in the end, but we didn't really have to eat anything again until we got to Salem.

The dirt is definitely a solid red now. Brown dirt is just a memory. The wildflowers seem to be a bit more vivid springing forth from it anyway. Our bodies are really tight, and we are very grateful to only have about 40 miles cut out for us today.

Vinton, Roanoke, and Salem came upon us quickly and fortunately. Andy gave some version of ASL "I love you" to some people with bikes on the back of their car and they subsequently pulled over a few blocks later and waited to talk to us. Retired and probably in their 60s they had recently biked the Bike Rt 1 South the the Florida Keys, then the Southern Route across the USA and up to Oregon. Over 8000 miles people. These guys were tough and seemed pretty normal :) They were on their way to pick up the grandkids.

We stopped to refuel our trail mix/Clif bar stash at the Roanoke Natural Food Co-op, stopped at a great outdoor store on Apperson Rd. to get tent repair, and ended up picking up a variety of other items. We would immediately feel the new sensation of added weight in our packs.

Made it to Salem by 6. Had delicious roast by the famous chef Aunt Tish, had wonderful hugs from Tish, Ben, and Jane. Saw Jane's illustrious garden, and Ben introduced us to a new beautiful side of Google maps, recommended we either take a road flare or cotton balls with us on our journey to help us with our campfire challengedness (both are good suggestions, we are trying to pick the one that's more our style).

Slept brilliantly, and were off this morning. Up Catawba mountain via 311, I can't believe it at this moment, spoke to a lovely past thru-hiker of the A.T. up there and then cruised down the other side (a very chilly morning), and then, we met the Bicenteniall Trail, the Bike Route 76, the original TransAmerica trail which will hopefully hopefully lead us to safety in Oregon.

Now in Christiansburg. Times up!

Bonding to our seats: Day 9

2008-06-19T09:35:00.001-07:00

Woke up this morning, but barely.

The night provided some delicious thunderstorms that began as Andy finished up his yoga practice. They lit up the tent, and unfortunately for Andy, we had gotten a few holes in our rain fly, so he progressively scooted closer and closer to my side of the tent over the course of the evening. We had quite a puddle at the foot of the tent by the end of the night. But nature is pretty nifty, and we were energized by the storm, at least to by tent patch tape.

What a day it turned out to be. We didn't get out of our campsite until 7:30 which was a bit later than we were hoping. We had set ourselves a good challenge of getting to Smith Mountain Lake S.P. by the end of the evening, estimating about 75 miles, but what an underestimation.

Fortunately the weather was very good to us and the countryside was gorgeous, wish you were here stuff. The headwinds kept us fairly cool, but they could be fierce, especially when they hit about half way up a steep incline that you were really already panting on.

We went through so many spaces and ultimately, I am totally amazed at what our bodies could and would do when asked. I look down at my legs with a renewed sense of gratitude. My legs, back, hands, feet, heart, lungs, were all totally pooped by the end of today's journey. By the end of the day, I felt like someone had given me too hard a smack on the back.

We saved 2 turtles from near death today (1 yesterday). It is so sad to see them squished. They are so cool, but they really like to cross the road and not quickly enough apparently.

This is exhausted me at what we labeled "Hay Henge". The bales have a lot of personality. This was MY 4th flat right before we doglegging onto Rt. 626 (Andy is still at 0.). The road behind us looks gorgeous, but its gravel and incline had a lot of bite!

I feel like we can't even remember the day in great detail, because we didn't dismount our bikes at the camp until almost 7:30 pm. (Although we did stop before quite often, lastly at the White House Market for some SALAD! Yay veggies! and apples! WOO HOO!) Stopping was not as easy as we urbanites were used to however, and it was pretty sad to see most of the few shops along our route, especially on 626 were closed and out of business. We really started wondering what these folks were doing for a living and how they were getting along. The thriving community was around the lake where, aside from the state park, there is a lot (dare I say too much?) commercial development. The lake is enormous and has a ton of shoreline because it winds in and out, so there is much real estate available to those who didn't grow up Appalachia style.

We were able to get a campfire going and have some tea at the campsite, shower, check for ticks, and hit the hay. We are not really expecting to be mobile tomorrow. We haven't really seen the lake except for a few glimpses, and have a shorter day tomorrow to Salem, so we are trying to listen to ourselves and take it a bit easy. Now sweet sweet sleep.

The first day back after Richmond, Day 8

2008-06-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

Our first day back on our bikes and I have to say that it was a fairly mild one comparatively speaking. We probably did just under 60 miles, but our timing was really on the ball. (I guess when you set out from your parents' house there is not too much that can go astray.) We left their loving arms and camera flash at about 5:30am, and by 12:45 we were in our camp destination, Twin Lakes State Park just south of Farmville. The terrain had been pretty good to us and the map that Dad lent us led us down some pretty secluded roads and beautiful country. We passed very few signs of "civilization", i.e. the gas station. We took Hull St. (360) to Genito Rd. (604) which we stayed on for almost the entire day, then 616 to 307 briefly, 616, 460, 607, 621, and 629. Much of this was marked with the Bike Rt. 1 although I'm not exactly sure where we picked it up and where we left it.

The park is pretty gorgeous. We went swimming in our semi-opaque undies, had an ice cream cone (for like a dollar, when does that happen!), made dinner, ate it, had silence because we have many hours to kill before bed, took naps with the flies on the picnic table benches, from which we were rudely awoken by some very low flying fighter jets. The campsite is a bit surreal, all gravel and like an empty trailer park, there is almost no one else here. We made our first campfire for dinner to save our cooking gas. Spent $32 dollars today including our delicious barbecue gas station sandwich. It was actually pretty tasty. Tomorrow the hills will start for real, and I can't help be a bit nervous. Yoga always helps that.

Yes. It is a campfire.

The final days until our rest in sunny Richmond

2008-06-15T09:39:00.001-07:00

Day 6

We awoke about 5 to pack ourselves up, eat the enormous breakfast quiche we had bought the night before from Eddie's (a short walk from C&B's), and be on our way. However, we found our hosts had arisen also to meet us at the wee hours of the morning, which was a delightful surprise to get to talk to them about the symphony they had seen the night before, Claudia's own musical abilities, their travels and life journeys and sip good tea. (We hope to make a pot for you in Brooklyn soon!) They waved us goodbye and prepared to embark on their own stoop sale project.

So we were off through Baltimore and since it was about 6am on Sunday morning, we were in good shape to cruise through it freely, as if everyone had been told to lock themselves away during our joyride through town. Straight down Charles St., the city was quite pretty. We flew by numerous churches and Johns Hopkins enjoying the already-wet early morning breeze. (I think the rock of quiche in my stomach helped propel us forward at a faster rate.) We wound our way down to the M&T stadium, where we met a biker who was on his way to a city-wide bike ride, who gave us the most efficient directions thus far on our trip. From Hollins Ferry Rd to Hammond's Ferry Rd. to River Rd., we went through some of the more depressed areas of time. Most were still asleep here too, but the character of the city changed completely in a few short blocks. The extremes we had just past through saddened us quite a bit. Many still separate and certainly not equal.

River Rd. introduced us to a few more friendly bikers and to our second flat tire, also acquired by yours truly (on the other bike) right at the crossing of mosquito-infested Patapsco S.P. We couldn't figure out what had caused the flat this time exactly, which haunted us later.

River Rd. took us to Race Rd. which then dead-ended into highway 100, and began again a few streets over. A man there told us the highway had clean divided in neighborhood in half and had separated family who had lived next door to each other all their lives. The road the reconnected the two sides a few long blocks over didn't even sport a sidewalk or shoulder for these folks to pass over. So we were a little upset by this and how car-centric things can sometimes be. But the man was very helpful and got us back to the proper road. A pretty hilly journey at this point, we were passed for the second time by another helpful biker who described the country as NSA saturated, saying that we were lucky to be here on a Sunday when secrets had a day off.

O.k. so this is getting pretty specific, we passed several high security prisons, helped anther biker with a flat tire (thank goodness we could contribute somehow!), got a little lost, got really hot, and then saw the sign: M.

So we headed for this M, the Greenbelt Metro. Now about 1pm, we loaded our smelly selves onto the last car and headed into D.C. So we 'cheated' a little bit, but hopefully most of you won't hold that against us. Refueled at Starbucks (to the detriment of our reputation) and then had a lovely lounging on the Mall, toured the newish WWII monument, talked to some fearless ducks who were very interested in our food, watched a soccer game, and refueled our Solio solar charger (this charges my phone, ishuffle, and other things with compatible attachments...got it from Paragon sports, $99, recommended!)

After a few hours we were re-energized and set off across the Lincoln bridge onto the Mount Vernon trail (which takes you right down the Potomac for a while and then into nice wooded areas, and past hot hot Reagan airport) which let us off right close to Christie's house.

First we met Norman however, a trail patrol gentleman who kindly escorted us all the way to our destination, and gave us some good advice which was to change the course of our trip. That was this introduction: http://www.adventurecycling.org/, which we found to have a plethora of information that we, and those we love, crave to know! Hurrah! Maps you can order listing routes with bike shops, campgrounds and other lodgings, post offices, rest stops, elevation, and other tidbits every curious and occaisionally lost biker dreams of.

Christie took us for a dip in the pool which felt amazing and then we set off for Rustico which turned out to have a delicious gluten-free pizza crust made from chick-pea flour, yummy!

Day 7

After Christie dispatched us with Luna bars (thank goodness!) the night before, around 6 we got back on the Mount Vernon Trail in Alexandria and took it about another 15 miles.

It was great to see lots of people biking to work on what was shaping up (we later found out) to be a 100+ day, even in the shade. The trail was lovely and gave us some beautiful views of the river. Then we got onto 235? which took us briefly onto Rt. 1. We were trying to find the Rt. 1 bicycle route which would help take us to Fredericksburg, but eventually this "well-marked" route was not so much the case, and during our 70+ miles ride of about 15 turns we probably saw about 4 signs. There were however some paved bicycle/pedestrian walks on the Rt. 1 which were a blessing as the shoulder was quite narrow.

Our journey (mostly around Quantico) took us down these routes:

Lorton

Old Bridge Rd.

Prince William Parkway (3000)

642

234

619

646, where there was a great little convenience market and just about every person in there gave us some fabulous directions and set us strait. We loaded up on some beef jerky, powerade, fresh wings, and trail mix.

611

612

610

612

646

616

Rt 1

The countryside was very beautiful, although I think our total on roadkill hit the 50 mark, which saddened us (everything from turtles and snakes to deer and raccoons). When we came upon the sign "You Cap 'Em, We'll Bag 'Em!" we were wondering if we could somehow make better use of these flattened lives. But like most thoughts on this trip that don't pertain directly to your legs, it was fleeting. But the country really was beautiful. Apparently we are not the only ones who think so, because there are lots of Estate Homes for sale.

But around 2, we were really read to hit 17, see strip malls, and V-line for Fredericksburg.

We actually had made really good time and were pretty proud of ourselves, so when we pulled up to the main drag in downtown historic Freddiesburg and we heard 'whoosh' we knew there was a bit more work to be done before feasting.

Again MY tire was flat, and this time we figured out that the tire needed replacing. A very nice local gave us directions to the bike shop a few blocks down by the Rappahanock and where we discovered that the brake pad had been gouging my tire a bit. The fellow at the shop also told us the tires were probably over ten years old and kindly sold us some that weren't dry-rotting, and he nicely let us change out the tires in the comfort of the AC of his shop.

We searched a bit for Spanky MacAdoos (it's gone though!) and settled instead on JBrian's PubHouse, where we tried to arrange lodging at a KOA campsite, but it was going to be $30! So Andy, without too much prodding, made the call to Liberty Town Arts Center, a great place we used to deal with when we worked for Campbells (where we met back in the day), and asked if we could sleep in their paved outdoor area. So Ellie and Dan Finnegan (the owner) made it happen and we spent another night in the comfort of our tent, with bathrooms, and without having to ride another mile for the day. We were left to simply crash and get a scoop of ice cream. Crash we did. I fell asleep in a plastic chair about 7:30, and Andy was in the tent by 8. When I woke up I couldn't go back to sleep. It was soooo hot and sweaty. I was worried that we would lose too much water just sleeping. I felt like my sleeping bag that I was trying to just lay on top of was soaking up my sweat like a sponge and becoming totally saturated. I contented myself with reading Atonement until the sun finally dropped and the night cooled off a bit. Andy's and my bodies were really cooking though. The tent seemed a good 5 degrees hotter inside than the air was outside. The only way I got to sleep eventually was with a cold waterbottle resting on my forehead.

Day 8 and a break

We had agreed to get up even a bit earlier to try to beat more of the heat, so at 4 we got up, packed, ate breakfast, and set out for Rt 2 (Fredericksburg Pkwy) for Richmond! Yay! This took us straight the whole way, so we make really excellent time. We had 2nd breakfast in Bowling Green where the local cafe goers kept us entertained with their jovial and sometimes biting banter. We kept on this route till it merged with 301. The route was very pleasant esp. where there were only 2 lanes of traffic because we got nice tree cover. We stopped again several times for snacks, in Dawn, near a juvenile detention center, where the fellow at the counter showed us the gov't issued book on how not to sell to people under the age of 21 (seems obvious, but who knows). We made it through sprawling Hanover into Richmond where our memories of streets collided a bit, but fortunately the truth eventually revealed itself.

Mama was waiting for us, and we were happy to see her and clean ourselves up.

So now we'll have been here from last Wed. until today, Sun. June 15th (Happy Pa's Day Pa!) We've relaxed, and rushed around, tuned up our bikes with the help of Agees, and Richmond Re-cycle (who let us fix our bikes right in front of their shop with us running back inside every 5 minutes or so with a question), seen our good friend Britt and her lovely beau Brendan tie the knot, celebrated a bit with Dad, and now, a little fatter, we are preparing for the next (much longer leg of our journey).

Tomorrow we hope to make it to Twin Lakes S.P., then to Lynchburg, Roanoke and then Christiansburg. That's when we get to start following our awesome TransAm maps from Adventure Cycling. We are trying not to get a knot in our knickers about the Appalachians (which are said to be a harder bike climb than the Rockies!), but I think it may be forming anyway.

On y V.A.!

Day 5 A Hot One!

2008-06-13T06:18:00.000-07:00

We awoke in a thick mist about 6. It is taking us about 1 1/2 to get up and get everything prepared to leave, cooking our first breakfast of coffee and oatmeal. This sort of breakfast got us through the first 2 1/2 hours of riding. The thick, thick fog remained and seemed to hold a force field of resistance against us and teamed up against us with big longish hills (probably only fractions of what is to come, but we are still in 'training' right?) and then, when the fog begain to clear, the oppressive heat set in, by 9:20 in the morning we were already chomping at the bit for some inside time and another meal, 2nd breakfast like a good Hobbit would have. I think we ended up eating off of rt. 23 in a place called Madonna House, which sounds exotic, but is really just at the tail end of a strip mall. Biscuits and gravy, western omelet, we definitely did not hold back. We are smearing everything with all the condiments in site too. I know I've been eating wheat too because my head is totally going nuts.

With our new calorie boost, we were able to enjoy the scenery a bit more, and the riding was very pretty, lots of small farms lined with trees, and fortunately for us the hills seemed to be rolling predominately downhill for us. I couldn't have imagined going the opposite direction at that moment. We made it down by Monkton where we got on a great trail NCR (Northern Central Railroad) that runs along the Gunpowder River. We were on this for maybe 10-15 miles. Stuck our feet in the water to try to cool off, a friendly dog ate my socks (which were probably at the ideal dirt/sweat saturation level) but fortunately the owner and I were able to get him to return them with only 1 hole.

My head is still really hot from the day. I can't believe that I haven't cooled down by now. We are wearing sunblock but still getting a little fried, especially my left hand which is left exposed and random parts of my left leg. I have some fears that nature and pavement and our own physical limitations will prevent this awesome journey from happening. But mostly these thoughts come and go.

However we are safely stretched out on Claudia and Bill's couch, who we haven't even met, but fixed us a delicious tea and left us a fruit salad (with mint, it was so good!) and opened up their entire house to us. Some people are amazing. (Including all of you beauties who keep our spirits up with your comments! We miss you!) We met these folks through http://www.couchsurfing.com/ which is a network of people who let each other travel via the others 'couches' or whatever flat surface they have available. Their house is charming and lived in and we seem to have similar interests in food.

Getting here was a bunch of hot asphalt after we left our nice trail. We stopped at a Chili's and had bottomless flavored ice teas for about 2 hours because we just couldn't continue in the heat. We had already stopped for 1 hour under some nears near an office park, but I made the mistake of asking a geared up passing biker for directions (it turned out that I was not getting very accurate energy readings from the people I asked for help this day). He came over and gave us some befuddled directions, but then he began to tell us his most intimate life story, beginning with how he had been a widower for 6 six years and peaking with his past addiction to internet, um, stuff. Hopefully our encounter was of some help to him, because it totally sapped us of all our reserves of energy and sympathy. So we probably only were able to do 50 miles today. We've been averaging a little over 60.

Tomorrow we hope to get through Baltimore through DC to stay with my oldest friend Christie in Alexandria. We will try to leave super early to get out of the heat as soon as possible.

Day 4, PA into MD

2008-06-11T06:07:00.000-07:00

Today we left there early- about 7am, after being waved off by 2/3rds of the crew. Stacy was a great help with getting us onto sites about maps, trails, and campsites. She got us on track for a bike path back to Rt. 30 business in Downingtown proper, where we found our morning diner- Chef's that smelled a bit like history. In contrast with the Frazer diner where we ate before this place was still empty except for the Chef himself and the 'dishwater blond' waitress (The both of them were classic for their respective roles.) watching Fox News and Friends, a totally weird name for a show as it sounds like PBS children's special. Chef gave us a dose of his politics, regarding the new UN president and warned us that the US would probably now be invaded, but his eggs were good, although a bit excessive (3!)

Then we were off and onward to 372 and 10, passing a lot of little towns, all with very different flavors. The things Andy and I noticed about the towns were not always congruent, which provided an indication about how nothing could ever possibly be objective.

Rolling farms, both the organic Amish, whose stand we stopped at to have the most delicious strawberries I have ever tasted, gluten-free coconut carob cookies, and fresh snow peas for dinner, but there was also Herr's potato and angus farm and factory. This area totally wreaked of cow manure in a not-so-healthy way.

A bit further down we stopped at the Neuchatel Swiss chocolate factory (this was a day of satisfying our sweet teeth), where we purchased four chocolates that began to melt in our hands, a honey bee, dark chocolate ginger, a caramel cream, and a mint. Highly recommend, although apparently purchasing chocolate doesn't qualify you for using their restrooms.

272, 273, more stops, each without public restrooms (I thought that this was just an NYC thing, but apparently it extends far beyond), of course it was a McDonalds that finally answered our bladders' prayer, but we were simultaneously depressed by the long line of cars waiting to pull through the drive through.

The hills got much steeper and longer in MD after we merged with Rt 1. The dialogue going through my head got pretty monotonous, yay downhill, whee, oh durn, better start pedaling, my legs, my chest, groan, why do we have all this junk!!! yay downhill! then the heat that had been foretold started to descend in a serious way, the sky cleared up, our pores opened and offered sweat up tothe sun gods.

We crossed the Conowingo dam over the Susquehanna (where this beautiful hawk soared beside us the entire way across, as if protecting us from the traffic, watching his seemingly effortless flying our burden seemed a bit lighter.) We ate a delightful lunch of granola, trail mix and clif bards in the park across the way, picked up some bike maps, and filled up on water. Andy only jumped twice because of a daddy longlegs.

We left around 3:20 to head to the Pines Camp grounds, but now the heat was on! Lathered up with suntan lotion our sweat seemed even more slippery and those hills were a b*t$#! We turned right onto Rt 623 and then onto Castleton way where we began our ultimately unsuccessful search for these campgrounds. Grumpy and hot, all we wanted was a successful conclusion to our good day. Ultimately, using newly discovered maps, we found ourselves at a BoyScout camp, which I had no interest in dealing with and was ready to pitch a tent back in t he woods. The ranger's welcoming home was unfortunately empty, so we headed into hte Boy Scout camp, fortunately Andy had good instincts and determinations at this point. Ultimately we made our way down "Cardiac Hill" while I complained that we were just going to have to come back up it. The ranger Andy ultimately encountered, the generous Paul Semke, ()while I waited at the Scout store checking out merit badges), was super nice, had sympathy, and rented us the campsite for super cheap, when it should have been $50. Thank you Paul!!! So we were able to cook our first dinner of Punjab eggplant and snow peas, do some yoga on pallets, and avoid wasp stings. And there were showers (yay!) We did however have to go back up the hill.

So we are realizing that the trick to doing this is to be like the little engine that could. (awww) If your heart and/or head believe that you will get up that hill or whatever, your body will cooperate, but if you let yourself be lazy, your body will scream bloody murder at you, and you will find yourself on the side of your bike pushing it up that hill and rubbing grease on your growing calf muscle.

Even though we slept on a pallet (not so comfy) and it was on a slant (so we kept sliding down into the bottom of our tent), we got to sleep without the raincover and look up at these beautiful trees and listen to the gorgeousness of the bugs and reptilian songs.