6/9/09
Last night while I was eating dinner by myself, a guy about my age came and sat down across from me with a can of miller lite and just looked at me without saying a word. He was wearing a big cowboy hat and boots as if he just got off a ranch. I introduced myself and started talking with him. He was a construction worker and when the "bossman" told him business was going to be slow for the next few weeks caught the first train to Spokane, WA. He has live in all but 14 of the united states and has picked up a little bit of an accent from each. This combined with a slight lisp gave him one of the most unique accents I've ever heard. We talked for a while about where i would begin (Astoria) my trip. He had lived nearby and gave me a discount card of a local restaurant called The Lighthouse. He handed it to me and looked me in the eyes as he said "there's a waitress there...Real attractive!" After talking for a little more than an hour, I went back to my seat to try and sleep. 10 minutes after falling asleep, the stewardess shook my shoulder and said, "he's gonna be your new seat-mate" looking at a guy standing next to her.
He was a 23 year old traveling around the country by bus and train after recently being laid off from his job as a grass roots organizer. He worked to educate students and organize them against nuclear research. I found the idea of a grass roots organizer getting laid off and giving up to be somewhat ironic. He told me about conspiracy theories dealing with Denver International Airport, his being a vegetarian simply to prove he didn't have to eat meat, and how he was the last of his friends to get his first cell phone and facebook account. The first time I pulled out my phone he looked at it and said "oh you have one of those new future phone, huh? How would you ever get along without it?" I just laughed and said "yeah".
I didn't sleep well last night. The car was freezing and all I have on is a t shirt and shorts. I woke up around 3 after going to bed around 1. I watched the full moon dip in and out of the clouds until about 4 when I went back to sleep.
I got up at 5:30 with the sunrise and went to the lower level of the train where there is a single aisle with bathroom doors on either side. As I walked down the stairs and turned the corner into the aisle, I see a young Amish couple kissing...found 'em! Caught totally off guard, all three of us freeze. They separate to let me through and she puts her head down smirking and he avoids eye contact as well. Without hesitation I look at both of them and recite one of my favorite movie quotes to perfection, "big gulps huh?... Welp...see ya later!" And walk past into a bathroom stall. The reaction was easily the most awkward and confused look I have ever received from anyone. They must have thought something was seriously wrong with me. They most likely had no idea I was quoting Dumb and Dumber or what a big gulp was. I entertained myself the rest of the morning by coming up with ideas of what I would say if I were to find myself in a conversation with an Amish person: Nice threads, is that shirt polo? You look just like the girl from sex in the city! If you need to look anything up I have internet on my phone. Great turban! (while pointing to her bonnet). Though I would probably never say any of these to someone, I was a nice break from my book.
This was not my last meeting with the couple though. Later in the day I spotted the two of them walking through the car. To avoid eye contact I grabbed my water bottle and took a drink while looking at the ground as they walked past. Just as I was about to swallow I saw that he was wearing Reebok's...I immediate choked on the water spitting it everywhere as I could not hold back the laughter! Reebok...the latest in menonite fashion! Forget retro! I want colonial!...I want Reebok!
The scenery in North Dakota and Montana is similar to Nebraska or Eastern Colorado but with fewer houses and towns. At our house last year in college, (man that's strange!) we used to say that our fridge was where vegetables went to die. Montana is where cars go to die. Rusty broken down cars in yards outnumber houses 37 to 1 in Montana.
Glacier NP and the Rocky Mountains are a welcome and beautiful change of scenery. I can't wait to go back and spend some time hiking around that park. I was disappointed that the train didn't do switchbacks up the mountains as I had heard...sorry Mike the conductor didn't even know what I was talking about.
Next stop Portland and not a minute too soon, after walking into the coach car from the dining car you get punched in the nose by the scent of 40 some people sitting in the same car for two days...smells like class! Seriously this car has got da funk!!! As I sit here writing, a women just sat beside me (I am in the window seat) with her infant child and proceeded to start breast feeding...time to get off of the train!
-Marcus
Monday, August 3, 2009
Leaving Town
6/8/09
Just before leaving for the train station today I went to the grocery store with my mother to pick up some food for the trip. Though I did not even fill a single basket, it was still more food than I wanted to carry, and less than I would like to have on hand. Not being able to carry more than two days worth of food makes me nervous and realizing this made me a bit tense the rest of the morning.
The ride to the train seemed very long. I was anxious and nervous and wanted to get on the train asap. Checking in at the station was a breeze. The box that I packed my bike up in was so large that I only had to take the handlebars off. This will make things much easier once I arrive in portland.
Waiting to board the train I had a cup of coffee and a hamburger with my parents, eager to see where and who I would be sitting with for the next two days. After leaving the food court we went down to the gate. At the gate waiting with us were roughly 15 Amish. I was hoping I would get the chance to sit and talk with a couple of them at some point, hasn't happened yet but I'm still hopeful.
I boarded in car 2715 and was suprised that I was one of the first, especially after waiting in line for such a long time. I picked seat 57, a window seat with noone beside me. There are two girls my age across the aisle from me and a couple in front of me that look like they are coming from, or on there way to a commune. All four of them have had their headphones on since just after we started moving with...that's almost 2 hours straight!!! Other than them there are a few older couples in the back of the car. I haven't found the Amish... yet. I bet they're in the bar car!
I have spent the past hour or so reading "Life of Pi" which I am convinced has the slowest start to any book I have ever read. As a result, I have turned to the crackberry to update this page. It looks like it will be a long ride
Just before leaving for the train station today I went to the grocery store with my mother to pick up some food for the trip. Though I did not even fill a single basket, it was still more food than I wanted to carry, and less than I would like to have on hand. Not being able to carry more than two days worth of food makes me nervous and realizing this made me a bit tense the rest of the morning.
The ride to the train seemed very long. I was anxious and nervous and wanted to get on the train asap. Checking in at the station was a breeze. The box that I packed my bike up in was so large that I only had to take the handlebars off. This will make things much easier once I arrive in portland.
Waiting to board the train I had a cup of coffee and a hamburger with my parents, eager to see where and who I would be sitting with for the next two days. After leaving the food court we went down to the gate. At the gate waiting with us were roughly 15 Amish. I was hoping I would get the chance to sit and talk with a couple of them at some point, hasn't happened yet but I'm still hopeful.
I boarded in car 2715 and was suprised that I was one of the first, especially after waiting in line for such a long time. I picked seat 57, a window seat with noone beside me. There are two girls my age across the aisle from me and a couple in front of me that look like they are coming from, or on there way to a commune. All four of them have had their headphones on since just after we started moving with...that's almost 2 hours straight!!! Other than them there are a few older couples in the back of the car. I haven't found the Amish... yet. I bet they're in the bar car!
I have spent the past hour or so reading "Life of Pi" which I am convinced has the slowest start to any book I have ever read. As a result, I have turned to the crackberry to update this page. It looks like it will be a long ride
It begins...
6/07/09
This trip will be my first attempt at what is called "Self-contained" bike touring. The idea is to carry everything you will need along the way, on the bike, and turn it into a two-wheeled mobile home. I will be attempting to cross the country from the Pacific Coast (beginning in Astoria, OR) to the Atlantic Coast (finishing in Bar Harbour, ME) with a layover in Chicago for my cousin Cathy's and her fiance Tom's wedding on July 25. Congratulations Cath and Tom!
Total the trip is just over 5000 miles. I was expecting to take my time and average around 60 miles a day. As a result of my poor planning, I am getting a late start and will need to average about 75 miles a day if I want to make it to the wedding.
I begin my adventure tomorrow as I board a train which will take me from Chicago to Portland, OR. It will be a 45 hour train ride aboard the increasingly popular "Empire Builder" train, known for is scenic cross country route through Glacier National park.
Following my arrival in Portland, I will begin riding to the trail head of the Trans-American Trail in Astoria, OR. Everyone is familiar with Astoria as this is where the movie The Goonies was filmed. After spending some time with Chunk, Data and the rest of the gang I will follow Highway 101 South along the Pacific Coastline to Florence, OR. My route will take me through Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming (Yellowstone and Grand Tetons included), Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, and finally Maine. I will be riding on the Trans-American Trail until I reach the Great Rivers Trail, which I will ride until I arrive at the Northern Tier Trail. (http://www.adventurecycling.org/routes/RouteNetwork.pdf)
I will be carrying the following:
Camping Equipment
-3 person Tent
-Sleeping Pad
-20 degree sleeping bag
-Sleeping bag liner (for cold or extremely hot nights)
-50ft. rope (for hanging up food)
-2 liter pot
-backpacking stove (thanks Jon!)
-utility knife
-dish soap
-sponge
-hand sanitizer
-Sham-WOW!
Clothes
-3 polyester t-shirts
-long sleeve wool shirt
-3 pairs of cycling shorts
-2 pairs of normal shorts
-thermal sweatpants
-3 pairs of cycling socks
-wool thermal socks
-polyester underwear
-rain jacket
-rain pants
Bike Equipment
-Jamis Aurora bike
-Jandd Extreme front bike rack
-Topeak Super Tourist rear rack
-Ortlieb Back-roller classic panniers
-Louis Garnier front panniers
-bell (Thanks Andie!)
-odometer/speedometer
-bike multi tool
-cone wrenches (13, 14, 15, 16mm)
-spoke wrench
-spare spokes
-spare brake and derailleur cables
-bike pump with gauge
-Helmet
-Bike shoes
-Safety Vest (good for visibility and directing traffic. Thanks Morrissey's)
-Sun Glasses
-Duct tape
-lock and additional cable
-spare tubes and patch kit
-cable ties
-chain breaker
-Maps
Hygiene/Health
-toothbrush
-toothpaste
-bar of soap
-gold bond medicated powder (like a millions little fairies)
-deodorant
-spf 85 sunscreen
-Benadryl
-Advil
-Chap stick
-water purifying tablets
-multi vitamin
Electronics
-Blackberry (for internet and entertainment)
-Camera
-Solar charger
There is plenty more stuff but I can't remember it all and I am sure you don't want to read my packing list. Total the gear weighs in at 75lbs, a lot less than I thought I would have.
Expectations of the trip include chaffing, a few bad stomach aches, probably some weight loss, sunburn, and most of all adventure. I am excited for the people I will meet, the things I will learn (hopefully not to much about bike repair) and being in the middle of nowhere. I anticipate that the trip will be physically and mentally challenging but in the end will be an experience of a lifetime.
I will update this page and check my email as often as possible. If you would like to contact me...
trucc903@gmail.com
...or you can add me as a friend on Google Latitude and track me as I ride.
-Marcus
This trip will be my first attempt at what is called "Self-contained" bike touring. The idea is to carry everything you will need along the way, on the bike, and turn it into a two-wheeled mobile home. I will be attempting to cross the country from the Pacific Coast (beginning in Astoria, OR) to the Atlantic Coast (finishing in Bar Harbour, ME) with a layover in Chicago for my cousin Cathy's and her fiance Tom's wedding on July 25. Congratulations Cath and Tom!
Total the trip is just over 5000 miles. I was expecting to take my time and average around 60 miles a day. As a result of my poor planning, I am getting a late start and will need to average about 75 miles a day if I want to make it to the wedding.
I begin my adventure tomorrow as I board a train which will take me from Chicago to Portland, OR. It will be a 45 hour train ride aboard the increasingly popular "Empire Builder" train, known for is scenic cross country route through Glacier National park.
Following my arrival in Portland, I will begin riding to the trail head of the Trans-American Trail in Astoria, OR. Everyone is familiar with Astoria as this is where the movie The Goonies was filmed. After spending some time with Chunk, Data and the rest of the gang I will follow Highway 101 South along the Pacific Coastline to Florence, OR. My route will take me through Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming (Yellowstone and Grand Tetons included), Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, and finally Maine. I will be riding on the Trans-American Trail until I reach the Great Rivers Trail, which I will ride until I arrive at the Northern Tier Trail. (http://www.adventurecycling.org/routes/RouteNetwork.pdf)
I will be carrying the following:
Camping Equipment
-3 person Tent
-Sleeping Pad
-20 degree sleeping bag
-Sleeping bag liner (for cold or extremely hot nights)
-50ft. rope (for hanging up food)
-2 liter pot
-backpacking stove (thanks Jon!)
-utility knife
-dish soap
-sponge
-hand sanitizer
-Sham-WOW!
Clothes
-3 polyester t-shirts
-long sleeve wool shirt
-3 pairs of cycling shorts
-2 pairs of normal shorts
-thermal sweatpants
-3 pairs of cycling socks
-wool thermal socks
-polyester underwear
-rain jacket
-rain pants
Bike Equipment
-Jamis Aurora bike
-Jandd Extreme front bike rack
-Topeak Super Tourist rear rack
-Ortlieb Back-roller classic panniers
-Louis Garnier front panniers
-bell (Thanks Andie!)
-odometer/speedometer
-bike multi tool
-cone wrenches (13, 14, 15, 16mm)
-spoke wrench
-spare spokes
-spare brake and derailleur cables
-bike pump with gauge
-Helmet
-Bike shoes
-Safety Vest (good for visibility and directing traffic. Thanks Morrissey's)
-Sun Glasses
-Duct tape
-lock and additional cable
-spare tubes and patch kit
-cable ties
-chain breaker
-Maps
Hygiene/Health
-toothbrush
-toothpaste
-bar of soap
-gold bond medicated powder (like a millions little fairies)
-deodorant
-spf 85 sunscreen
-Benadryl
-Advil
-Chap stick
-water purifying tablets
-multi vitamin
Electronics
-Blackberry (for internet and entertainment)
-Camera
-Solar charger
There is plenty more stuff but I can't remember it all and I am sure you don't want to read my packing list. Total the gear weighs in at 75lbs, a lot less than I thought I would have.
Expectations of the trip include chaffing, a few bad stomach aches, probably some weight loss, sunburn, and most of all adventure. I am excited for the people I will meet, the things I will learn (hopefully not to much about bike repair) and being in the middle of nowhere. I anticipate that the trip will be physically and mentally challenging but in the end will be an experience of a lifetime.
I will update this page and check my email as often as possible. If you would like to contact me...
trucc903@gmail.com
...or you can add me as a friend on Google Latitude and track me as I ride.
-Marcus
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Dirty-ass Red goes to the big city
8/1/09
I am finally on the road again after nearly 3 weeks off in Denver and Chicago. Though the time wasn't the most productive, it was a fun and a much needed break. After racing nearly 400 miles in 3 days to get to Denver, I was greeted with big hugs and friendly smiles from familiar faces. My time spent off the bike was some of the most memorable of the trip and reminded me that I have the best family and friends anyone could hope for. Some of my favorite times include a Harry Potter party to celebrate the opening of the 6th HP film. Nobody actually made it to the movie that night, but we had some Muggle fun with my road flares, fireworks, and a bottle of corn whiskey. The following day was spent at the theater watching the film. The 6th movie was the first one that I had seen and afterwards was anxious to watch the rest. So, the next day was spent alternating between the pool and my friend Papa Steve's house, where we were watching the rest of the Harry Potter movies. The movies went late into the night and into the next morning. It was like a 6th grade sleepover, we sat in a cold dark room watching what seemed like endless hours of G-rated fun until we passed out. There was also "Tony and Marcus' Day of random fun full of milk," when my friend Tony and I walked around Denver in the hot sun, eating a huge sandwich and drinking a gallon of milk (milk was a bad choice!!). I should also mention that I was wearing a dark green leisure suit that I picked up at a Goodwill at the beginning of the day. The highlight of the day was either the milk or a woman in a old beater of a Subaru shouting "Burritos" at us as we sat on a curb waiting for a ride. Before she left she made a puckering face as if she wanted a kiss, then smiled showing all 7 of her teeth and drove away. Other interesting days included Tony's birthday when we rode a 4 person bike (double surrey) around a park chasing ducks and eventually taking it into a neighborhood, playing a couple of Rugby games with the guys from Regis, and the night Tony broke up with his girlfriend (I would describe the events of the evening, but I keep hearing my father say "filter" as he reads this and so they have been left out). One of the final and slower nights during the week was spent sharing stories with my friends Christie and Moryah who were returning from Guatemala. Though the evening was low key, some great news came out of the gathering. My friend Deedah is a member of Google Reader, a site that notifies you when a blog you are a fan of has a new post. On this site, she found my old and original blog posts. I am excited to have these back and can't wait to put them back up. Thanks Deedah!
Part of my time off was also spent in Chicago. I flew back leaving all of my things in Denver in order to make it to my cousins Cathy and Tom's wedding. I showed up to the airport wearing the leisure suit that I bought on the fun day. Even though I got a lot of stupid looks on the plane and in the airport, it was worth it when it was well received by my family. My mom picked me up from the airport and didn't recognize me, which explains why she almost drove past me as I walked up to her car. My dad took one look at me saying "what are you wearing? Did the Amish convert you?" he proceeded to laugh for roughly 20 min. When I arrived home, dinner was waiting for me and the force feeding began. My mom is a great cook and didn't hesitate to make more food than we could possibly be expected to eat. When nobody else wanted any more, it found its way onto my plate. As much as I said I didn't want it, I was could still eat more. Thanks Mom, I miss your cooking already! The next morning as I came down the stairs my dad said to my siblings, who were sitting at the kitchen table, "oh look, here comes Dirty-ass Red". Apparently I look identical to one of my Dad's old friend who they called "Dirty-Ass Red" and he swears that if any of his old friends saw me, they would call me the same thing.
That's it! I've had it with this abuse...I'm leaving home...and I'm going to live on my bike...and ride across the country!!! Damn, what was I thinking!
The wedding was a great time! The ceremony was a beautiful Irish wedding and the reception was even more fun! The Coral Room at the Drake Hotel was definitely not ready for The Ricker or the Trucco dance party that broke out. The fun didn't stop with the reception though, it continued into a lounge at the hotel until 2am with the Aunts, Uncles, and Older cousins. Those who were still standing spent a few more hours at the Hangy Uppy until the sun came up. I couldn't wait to rush over to my brother Chuck's apartment the next day to help him move out, which is why I had about 10 missed calls and voice mails when I woke up. The wedding was a great excuse to take some time off and see my family, thanks Cath and Tom and Congratulations again!
After returning to Denver, I put off getting back on the bike for as long as I possibly could. First because 3 weeks of sitting around, drinking, and not riding bikes put me in great shape for the rest of the trip. Second, I did not want to leave my friends and spend at least another month alone on the road. One mistake that I made on this trip was doing it solo. Physically I have had no real problems, but a lack of conversation is draining for any person that is somewhat extroverted. I realized for the second time why this trip is so hard, and why I enjoy having friends and family around me. The first day of the trip was rough. I started late in the morning since I had to get some things together and get back into a routine. My friend Kevin "Brett, Shy Guy, Guy, Rodney" Stakelin joined me for the first 20 miles or so. I rode with him through downtown and out onto the Cherry Creek trail. When he left me, the trail started splitting off into different directions and I had no idea where i was going. I found my way onto the highway I was suppose to be on and started riding in some heavy traffic. It didn't slow for a while and the heat started to pick up, which was awesome. After a few turns and a change in highways, I started to feel a bit sick to my stomach. Shortly after the stomach ache started I made several stops at gas stations and grocery stores. This was the first time on the trip and in a recent memory that I had a serious stomach ache. Dehydration and exhaustion started to set in and I decided to cut the day short at Kiowa at the Elbert County Fair before the gas stations started to disappear. The stomach ache continued through the night and I couldn't even finish eating a hot dog. On top of the stomach, I put my tent up near the trailers since the tent area was full, bad choice. All of the trailers had generators and the nice fellow beside me decided he should keep his on until 12:30 in the morning...thanks man.
I slept well all things considered and woke up feeling alright. By noon the next day I was in Limon, the town that I was aiming for the first day. With the stomach feeling better as the day went on, I decided to ride to Kit Carson. When I arrived I found the city park with the help of some locals and rode up to a picnic area with a homeless guy laying on a bench. I started making dinner and within 10 minute of being there, Denny decided to come talk with me. Denny was an older guy, at least 60, who definitely had a drinking problem, and had not showered in a while. He said he had been homeless for 30 days, but said the last time he had a job was in 2005 "with Big Man and JD", fixing the damage from hurricane Katrina. He was a nice enough guy but I had to be careful not to say anything that might make him think I was liberal in any way, he was a mixed up dude. After Denny had mentioned something about looking for work and trying to find some help, I told him about a couple places in Denver that had good programs. He quickly responded with, "what are you some kind of liberal? They're always trying to set up new programs and eventually they're going to socialize the whole damn country!". I was planning on staying the night there until I spoke with my mom. I called her just after Denny left to go get some "soda". My mom suggested I check out another place in town to camp for the night. I resisted but took her up on it and eventually rode to the next town when Denny returned with a drink for me and insisted I drink one of them. When I told him I was going to go check the other place out he wanted me to wait for him to get his stuff so he could check it out with me. I was getting creeped out and decided to ride 20 more miles to Eads even though it was already 7:30.
I left Kit Carson and just outside of town had my second flat of the trip. I pulled the bike off the shoulder and fixed it, not knowing where the whole had come from. Worried about time I started racing for Eads, with bugs hitting me in the face and giant Grasshoppers jumping into my wheels. For some reason Grasshoppers jump at you as you come towards them, and when they jump at the bike they always get torn up in the spokes. When they get hit, it makes a sound as if you were to pluck a string on a guitar and it makes me laugh every time I hear it. The other thing is that in Eastern Colorado, they grow their Grasshoppers HUGE!!! I'm talking like the size of a small dog! Somehow, the growth hormone that the cattle farmers out here are using is being absorbed by the Grasshoppers and they look like Lobsters. Please start eating organic foods, my wheels cant take much more of this! Also, after riding this leg of the trip I am no longer curious why Eastern Colorado is the smallest and least popular of the Colorado Universities.
When I was about 5 miles out of Eads and at around 8:30pm, I got my 3rd flat. The sun was going to set any minute now and hear I was only 5 miles out fixing a flat. After inspecting the tire and the innertube, I concluded that it was the wheel that was puncturing the tube. It looked as if the holes for the spokes were not entirely covered by the tape. So before putting everything back together, I wrapped the inner wheel with some duct tape and continued on. I haven't had any problems since and am now considering the matter closed. I arrived in Eads in the dark and quickly found the city park. I set up camp and went to bed after pounding a few liters of water.
Today I rode to to Tribune, KS completing the state of Colorado and crossing over into Central time. I was able to take a much needed shower and am taking some time off of the bike. I rode 250 miles or so in the past 3 days and was certainly not prepared for it or the stomach flu. I am going to see what I can find hear in town to eat and am anxious to plot out the coming days through corn fields. It is getting harder and harder to find places to charge my phone and even more difficult to find is digital service so that I can post to the blog.
It was rejuvenating to spend time with everyone over my break and it has prepared me for the next 2500-3000 mile to Portland, ME! Thanks for all of the hospitality, delicious food, and most of all, for supporting me on this trip! Sorry for such a big break in posts, hopefully I will start to post on a more regular basis to satisfy all of you who are becoming RedRider junkies.
-Marcus
I am finally on the road again after nearly 3 weeks off in Denver and Chicago. Though the time wasn't the most productive, it was a fun and a much needed break. After racing nearly 400 miles in 3 days to get to Denver, I was greeted with big hugs and friendly smiles from familiar faces. My time spent off the bike was some of the most memorable of the trip and reminded me that I have the best family and friends anyone could hope for. Some of my favorite times include a Harry Potter party to celebrate the opening of the 6th HP film. Nobody actually made it to the movie that night, but we had some Muggle fun with my road flares, fireworks, and a bottle of corn whiskey. The following day was spent at the theater watching the film. The 6th movie was the first one that I had seen and afterwards was anxious to watch the rest. So, the next day was spent alternating between the pool and my friend Papa Steve's house, where we were watching the rest of the Harry Potter movies. The movies went late into the night and into the next morning. It was like a 6th grade sleepover, we sat in a cold dark room watching what seemed like endless hours of G-rated fun until we passed out. There was also "Tony and Marcus' Day of random fun full of milk," when my friend Tony and I walked around Denver in the hot sun, eating a huge sandwich and drinking a gallon of milk (milk was a bad choice!!). I should also mention that I was wearing a dark green leisure suit that I picked up at a Goodwill at the beginning of the day. The highlight of the day was either the milk or a woman in a old beater of a Subaru shouting "Burritos" at us as we sat on a curb waiting for a ride. Before she left she made a puckering face as if she wanted a kiss, then smiled showing all 7 of her teeth and drove away. Other interesting days included Tony's birthday when we rode a 4 person bike (double surrey) around a park chasing ducks and eventually taking it into a neighborhood, playing a couple of Rugby games with the guys from Regis, and the night Tony broke up with his girlfriend (I would describe the events of the evening, but I keep hearing my father say "filter" as he reads this and so they have been left out). One of the final and slower nights during the week was spent sharing stories with my friends Christie and Moryah who were returning from Guatemala. Though the evening was low key, some great news came out of the gathering. My friend Deedah is a member of Google Reader, a site that notifies you when a blog you are a fan of has a new post. On this site, she found my old and original blog posts. I am excited to have these back and can't wait to put them back up. Thanks Deedah!
Part of my time off was also spent in Chicago. I flew back leaving all of my things in Denver in order to make it to my cousins Cathy and Tom's wedding. I showed up to the airport wearing the leisure suit that I bought on the fun day. Even though I got a lot of stupid looks on the plane and in the airport, it was worth it when it was well received by my family. My mom picked me up from the airport and didn't recognize me, which explains why she almost drove past me as I walked up to her car. My dad took one look at me saying "what are you wearing? Did the Amish convert you?" he proceeded to laugh for roughly 20 min. When I arrived home, dinner was waiting for me and the force feeding began. My mom is a great cook and didn't hesitate to make more food than we could possibly be expected to eat. When nobody else wanted any more, it found its way onto my plate. As much as I said I didn't want it, I was could still eat more. Thanks Mom, I miss your cooking already! The next morning as I came down the stairs my dad said to my siblings, who were sitting at the kitchen table, "oh look, here comes Dirty-ass Red". Apparently I look identical to one of my Dad's old friend who they called "Dirty-Ass Red" and he swears that if any of his old friends saw me, they would call me the same thing.
That's it! I've had it with this abuse...I'm leaving home...and I'm going to live on my bike...and ride across the country!!! Damn, what was I thinking!
The wedding was a great time! The ceremony was a beautiful Irish wedding and the reception was even more fun! The Coral Room at the Drake Hotel was definitely not ready for The Ricker or the Trucco dance party that broke out. The fun didn't stop with the reception though, it continued into a lounge at the hotel until 2am with the Aunts, Uncles, and Older cousins. Those who were still standing spent a few more hours at the Hangy Uppy until the sun came up. I couldn't wait to rush over to my brother Chuck's apartment the next day to help him move out, which is why I had about 10 missed calls and voice mails when I woke up. The wedding was a great excuse to take some time off and see my family, thanks Cath and Tom and Congratulations again!
After returning to Denver, I put off getting back on the bike for as long as I possibly could. First because 3 weeks of sitting around, drinking, and not riding bikes put me in great shape for the rest of the trip. Second, I did not want to leave my friends and spend at least another month alone on the road. One mistake that I made on this trip was doing it solo. Physically I have had no real problems, but a lack of conversation is draining for any person that is somewhat extroverted. I realized for the second time why this trip is so hard, and why I enjoy having friends and family around me. The first day of the trip was rough. I started late in the morning since I had to get some things together and get back into a routine. My friend Kevin "Brett, Shy Guy, Guy, Rodney" Stakelin joined me for the first 20 miles or so. I rode with him through downtown and out onto the Cherry Creek trail. When he left me, the trail started splitting off into different directions and I had no idea where i was going. I found my way onto the highway I was suppose to be on and started riding in some heavy traffic. It didn't slow for a while and the heat started to pick up, which was awesome. After a few turns and a change in highways, I started to feel a bit sick to my stomach. Shortly after the stomach ache started I made several stops at gas stations and grocery stores. This was the first time on the trip and in a recent memory that I had a serious stomach ache. Dehydration and exhaustion started to set in and I decided to cut the day short at Kiowa at the Elbert County Fair before the gas stations started to disappear. The stomach ache continued through the night and I couldn't even finish eating a hot dog. On top of the stomach, I put my tent up near the trailers since the tent area was full, bad choice. All of the trailers had generators and the nice fellow beside me decided he should keep his on until 12:30 in the morning...thanks man.
I slept well all things considered and woke up feeling alright. By noon the next day I was in Limon, the town that I was aiming for the first day. With the stomach feeling better as the day went on, I decided to ride to Kit Carson. When I arrived I found the city park with the help of some locals and rode up to a picnic area with a homeless guy laying on a bench. I started making dinner and within 10 minute of being there, Denny decided to come talk with me. Denny was an older guy, at least 60, who definitely had a drinking problem, and had not showered in a while. He said he had been homeless for 30 days, but said the last time he had a job was in 2005 "with Big Man and JD", fixing the damage from hurricane Katrina. He was a nice enough guy but I had to be careful not to say anything that might make him think I was liberal in any way, he was a mixed up dude. After Denny had mentioned something about looking for work and trying to find some help, I told him about a couple places in Denver that had good programs. He quickly responded with, "what are you some kind of liberal? They're always trying to set up new programs and eventually they're going to socialize the whole damn country!". I was planning on staying the night there until I spoke with my mom. I called her just after Denny left to go get some "soda". My mom suggested I check out another place in town to camp for the night. I resisted but took her up on it and eventually rode to the next town when Denny returned with a drink for me and insisted I drink one of them. When I told him I was going to go check the other place out he wanted me to wait for him to get his stuff so he could check it out with me. I was getting creeped out and decided to ride 20 more miles to Eads even though it was already 7:30.
I left Kit Carson and just outside of town had my second flat of the trip. I pulled the bike off the shoulder and fixed it, not knowing where the whole had come from. Worried about time I started racing for Eads, with bugs hitting me in the face and giant Grasshoppers jumping into my wheels. For some reason Grasshoppers jump at you as you come towards them, and when they jump at the bike they always get torn up in the spokes. When they get hit, it makes a sound as if you were to pluck a string on a guitar and it makes me laugh every time I hear it. The other thing is that in Eastern Colorado, they grow their Grasshoppers HUGE!!! I'm talking like the size of a small dog! Somehow, the growth hormone that the cattle farmers out here are using is being absorbed by the Grasshoppers and they look like Lobsters. Please start eating organic foods, my wheels cant take much more of this! Also, after riding this leg of the trip I am no longer curious why Eastern Colorado is the smallest and least popular of the Colorado Universities.
When I was about 5 miles out of Eads and at around 8:30pm, I got my 3rd flat. The sun was going to set any minute now and hear I was only 5 miles out fixing a flat. After inspecting the tire and the innertube, I concluded that it was the wheel that was puncturing the tube. It looked as if the holes for the spokes were not entirely covered by the tape. So before putting everything back together, I wrapped the inner wheel with some duct tape and continued on. I haven't had any problems since and am now considering the matter closed. I arrived in Eads in the dark and quickly found the city park. I set up camp and went to bed after pounding a few liters of water.
Today I rode to to Tribune, KS completing the state of Colorado and crossing over into Central time. I was able to take a much needed shower and am taking some time off of the bike. I rode 250 miles or so in the past 3 days and was certainly not prepared for it or the stomach flu. I am going to see what I can find hear in town to eat and am anxious to plot out the coming days through corn fields. It is getting harder and harder to find places to charge my phone and even more difficult to find is digital service so that I can post to the blog.
It was rejuvenating to spend time with everyone over my break and it has prepared me for the next 2500-3000 mile to Portland, ME! Thanks for all of the hospitality, delicious food, and most of all, for supporting me on this trip! Sorry for such a big break in posts, hopefully I will start to post on a more regular basis to satisfy all of you who are becoming RedRider junkies.
-Marcus
Friday, July 17, 2009
Intermission
7/21/09
After several text messages, emails, phone calls, and threats from curious readers, my concerned family, stalkers, and those with no other way to procrastinate at work, I have decided to write an update. The last time that I wrote, I was in Lander, WY. I took a day off there to hang out with some locals and a hundreds of other people in town for an annual climbing festival. My day off consisted of visiting a local ice cream shop, riding around town, updating my blog, talking with some people that have given their lives to faith and eventually led me to the Lander Bar.
Early in the afternoon, I returned to the city park where I was staying to find 4 or 5 Amish looking folks pulling in on bicycles, spread all around the park. I immediately started laughing, thinking about the about the last group that I ran into on the train. I did not hesitate to go up and greet them. The men all had long beards with hair that looked like it was cut by hand. They wore blue jeans, blue collared shirts and covered up with a large tan art smock sort of thing. The women wore plain off-white dresses and had clearly not cut their hair in a long, long time. I remember thinking that one of the women would get her hair caught in the spokes of her bike while riding and began laughing at the mental image of her head being pulled back while riding. This was at a most inopportune time because she and another were walking past and looked over in disgust as I chuckled quietly. The first person I spoke with was lady who was extremely shy. She seemed to have a very hard time coming up with more than a yes or no answer as I asked her about their trip. After a very short conversation she insisted that I go speak with a guy who was pulling up to a picnic table.
Jerry was young looking guy with graying reddish brown hair and an awesome beard! He carried a briefcase and a guitar on his back. When I sat down and introduced myself we had the general bike touring conversation, where are you going? Where are you from? How long have you been out? What’s your daily mileage? It turns out that the group is not on a bike tour at all. They are a group of 22 that travel around the country trying to live their lives as early Christians did. They do not affiliate with any church, but instead try to read the bible in as many different languages and religions as possible. Jerry explained to me that they have all dedicated their lives to faith and simply let God direct where they go and what they do. No one in the group owns anything other than what they have on their bikes and Jerry estimates that he spends less than $700 each year. They get buy on dumpster diving at grocery stores, people that offer to put them up for a night or two, living in farming communes, and occasionally buying what they need. I was around for a conversation that Jerry had with a “Sister” named Ashira, regarding how they were going to restock on toilet paper by asking for the half-used rolls being thrown away at a local hotel. I spoke with the two for a bit, mostly just inquiring about their lives. Jerry has read the bible in English, Hebrew, and Greek and several times in each language. After speaking with Jerry for a while he pulled out a 16 page hand written essay on his philosophy on life and religion. It was covered with a piece of tie-dyed paper and was titled Earth’s Tears. Jerry handed it to me saying “this is what I have come up with as an explanation of how I see the world. I am not giving it to you because I think you should believe the same, but because if you understand how I see the world, than maybe you will have tolerance for others like me and eventually for everyone”. Before our conversation ended, Jerry and Ashira gave me a pocket version of the New Testament and a bookmark that said “Peace” but if read backwards said “shalom”. They wished me safe travels and I was on my way.
At around 4pm I ran into some of the locals that I met at the city park, Kyle, Cash, Mike, and Andrea. Kyle is a 26 year old with 2 DUI's, 0 front teeth, and a million stories. He works at a local climbing shop and offers to let anyone borrow his car that wants to since he hasn’t gotten his license back yet. Cash is a younger guy too, also with 2 DUI's but one of his was in Arizona, so when he wants to drive somewhere he has to blow into a breathalyzer mounted in his car. He has a handyman business that he runs and seems to be doing ok for himself. Mike and Andrea are dating and live in the Lander City Park. Their lease on a house in Lander expired and they are hanging in the park until it their new lease begins in Fort Collins. They are moving there so Andrea can finish up school at Colorado State. In the meantime they climb a whole lot and volunteer at City events like the climbing festival. Anyway, I ran into them in the park and after hanging out and talking for a while, they suggested that I go get something to eat and hang out at Lander Bar, the only bar in the city of Lander (Landerbar.com). I took their advice and upon sitting down at the bar struck up a conversation with some guy that had just finished up a NOLS course and was waiting for his old college buddies. He clearly had a head start on them and did not hesitate to buy me a beer. His name was Mike and he was from Woodstock, IL. We talked for a while/he talked for a while, telling stories about his most recent NOLS course, his outdoor experiences and travels, and made sure that I understood the value of being able to just go out into the wild and plan your own trips rather than hiring someone to guide you. After Mike’s lesson, I was about ready to take off and see what else I could find in Lander. As I was finishing the burger that I bought and getting ready to take care of my bill, Kyle and Cash walked in and sat down on the stools next to me. They were excited to see me here and Kyle “bought” a round for the 3 of us and another guy that bar tends at Lander Bar but wasn’t working. After being served, Kyle asked “how much do I owe you?” The bar tender looked at Kyle and then at the other bar tender not working and said “how much do you want to pay?” Kyle looked somewhat dumbfounded, hesitated and responded “$1.87”. After seeing this, I did not buy a single drink without including the off shift bar tender, Kyle, and Cash. We switched off buying rounds all night, the whole time I had no idea how much of what I was ordering was actually being put on my tab. At around 7 o’clock the rest of the climbing festival showed up for the Kick-Off celebration. Being that I had been hanging out all night with Lander locals, people started to confuse me for one, including the new bar tender when he asked how long I had lived in Lander for. The strange thing about Lander was that the whole time I was there I didn’t meet a single person born and raised in the town. Everyone had moved there from somewhere else and was jus adopted as a local.
The evenings events included a pull-up competition, climbing videos on the wall of the bar, and outside on the patio and small yard beside the bar, live music. I had some interesting conversation that night with some guys from Boulder, CO, a couple from Paris, and then some old guy who was over served that thought I was one of his old climbing buddies from Arkansas. I spent most of the evening talking with these people until a blue grass band started playing and a hoe down broke out in the yard of the bar. The locals that I had met, some of the climbers and me decided that we were going to dance. None of us knew what the hell we were doing or how to dance to what these guys were playing so it turned into a combination of foot stomping, spinning, clapping, and everything that you would expect to see around 1am at a hoe down. The dancing really took a turn when some guy started doing something that resembled a James Brown imitation. After that it was anything goes and things got really ugly, there was even a mosh pit. With this I decided I had had enough dancing and decided I would head back to my tent. I was surprised to see that my tab had only amounted to $17 with food. This was definitely a few beers short, but I signed off and rode my bike back.
I woke up in the morning feeling awesome and decided to have a bowl of ibuprofen for breakfast. People had already started setting up for the festival and the events were underway. I stuck around to see the sponsor tables and the first couple rounds of crate stacking. Crate stacking is where you take milk crates and stack them one on top of the next while balancing on the stack. It has got to be ridiculously hard and even thought you were tied in to a rope hanging from a tree the falls still looked like they were painful. I talked with the locals about the previous night and had some good laughs before cleaning up and saying goodbye. I was considering staying another couple nights, but they said that the festival pretty much disappears into the mountains after the first day so there wasn’t much more to see. I left at around 11am with every intention of riding 125 miles to Rawlins, WY that day followed by another 100 the day after which would land me in Laramie.
The 91 miles that I rode along highway 287 that day was something special. There 3 towns, 2 cafes, and 1 gas station. I filled up on water in Jeffrey City, an old ghost town that had at one time been home to several thousand people who worked at a Uranium mine. But after the Uranium ran out, there was no need for the town anymore either. There are two buildings in the town that are still in use. The first is the café where I stopped for some food and a refill on water. When I pulled up there was only pickup truck in front of the place. Knowing that this would be the only place to get water, I went in and found an old lady sitting at the bar playing poker on the internet, on 3 different laptops all at the same time. She looked like the lady down the street growing up that was overweight and had grey hair…you know, the one that everyone was scared to death of because she was a witch. The bar was long with only a few stools and plenty of space between them. 2 round tables were on the floor and did a terrible job of filling the room. The booze was untouched. There were 8 different bottles behind the counter and not one of them had been opened. Without turning around the woman said “Can I help you?” she sounded mad that I had interrupted her. At first I was just going to get some water and then get the hell out of there, but after hearing her say that I figured I would probably be more welcome if I bought some food, so I asked for a menu. The woman said, “Well what do you want?” They didn’t have menus. What restaurant doesn’t have menus? I didn’t know what to say so I just asked for a cheeseburger. “Fries too?” I said that would be great. She went into the back room and a couple of kids came out asking why I was riding my bike. I’m not really sure what I said but it didn’t entertain them and they just ran back after saying “that’s weird”. Next a man came out of some other door with a baby and before the door closed two more women came out. They talked to themselves and said hi to me before the old woman came back with a glass of ice water and some condiments. Another couple followed her from out of the kitchen. “Where the hell are all of these people coming from?!?!” I thought to myself, there was only one car in the parking lot! When another woman came from somewhere else and I started to watch the massive LCD TV that they had. Big Daddy was on. After about 10 minutes the chef came out with a cheese burger and fries, of course there was a chef back there. I sat and ate quietly until the old woman came up and started to tell me about how much she hated bicyclists and how they are usually “big city assholes that think were a bunch of cow dicks! You seem pretty nice though, most just come in here ask for some water and leave!” Thank God I asked for that menu! While I was eating some guy came in, sat down at the bar and asked for a 6 pack. The old woman gave him 3 bottles and 3 cans and then he just left. No wonder the bottles at the bar were unopened, this place was also the liquor store. Before I left she offered to fill up my water bottles and even put ice in them for me.
The second in Jeffery City is an old gas station that was converted to a pottery store by a guy named Byron. It’s called Monk King Bird Pottery (http://monkingbirdpottery.com/Home.html). I did not have the chance to meet Byron, but I heard that he is a really cool guy from everyone I met in Lander. I was told that you have not truly experienced Wyoming until you have hung out with Byron. Unfortunately he was not around when I got to Monk King, so I will have to return at some point. The next stop on my way was a gas station just outside of Muddy Gap, WY. It was a gas station that charged $.50 to fill up each water bottle and had a $10 minimum to use Debit cards. I didn’t have any cash on me but did have enough change for one water bottle. The guy refused to let me fill up the other water bottles so I continued with one. Before leaving some Swedish guys came up to the gas station. I gave them the heads up on water but they decided to camp at the gas station anyway. They informed me that I would have some strong head winds on the next portion of the ride, but I willing to give up on my 125 mile attempt yet.
After another couple of hours I came to Lamont, WY and Grandma’s Café. The café was in terrible shape and didn’t look like it was still in use. It was the only building in the town and I figured it was probably abandoned. It was getting pretty late and with 35 miles to go and no water, I pulled off the road. After looking at my maps to see what the next town was and giving a call home to see if someone could look something up for me, an older guy came out of Grandma’s and asked if I needed any help. He said I could camp out in back of the place and was welcome to use the bathrooms and sink. I convinced myself that 91 miles was still pretty good for the day, especially considering the night before, and decided to call it a night. I set up camp behind the diner ate some spaghetti with a can of chili before trying to find the guy that invited me to stay. His name was Cliff and I found him inside of the diner smoking cigarettes, doing a crossword puzzle, and watching Are you smarter than a 5th Grader? With special guest, Larry the Cable Guy. Cliff was only 45 but he looked like he was 60. He was unemployed and was helping out his parents by running things around the diner until he found something else. When I told him that I came from Lander that day, he said “Whoa, there’s a different place for you. Lander sure is an interesting bunch.” He was a nice guy and it was interesting talking with him. I went to bed early that night hoping that I could get a good start the next morning.
I woke up at 5:40 that morning and had left Lamont and Grandma’s Diner by 6:30 I was happy to be on the road and on my way just as the sun was rising. I pulled into to Rawlins before 9am only to find that nothing was open in the town except for an Amish Bakery and Discount food store. “HAHA…We meet again!” I thought as I walked past a couple of Amish women. I took special not of their footwear, not Reebok but Asics. Either way they were made in a sweatshop somewhere in Asia. I was surprised at how cheap everything was; open boxes of cereal, expired granola bars, brown bananas…it was all at least 50% off! I stuck with the stuff from the bakery which was also quite cheap. I bought an 8 pack of doughnuts for $1 and ordered some waffles. I ate all of it before I left there and picked up a couple of dented cans of tuna and beans for later that day.
At Rawlins, highway 287 joins up with Interstate 80, so I had no choice but to ride on the shoulder with cars passing me at 80mph. I was sure to take picture of this! Where 287 separates from 80 there is a small gas station. I stopped in filled up with water and asked the guy if taking 287 to Laramie instead of 80 would add many miles. He said “yeah, maybe 7 or 8” as he sat there smoking a cigarette while hooked up to an oxygen tank. Thinking that I had 135 miles to Laramie from the start of the day I figured 7 or 8 more miles couldn’t hurt. I decided that locals are not to be trusted on distances when at mile 135 I saw a sign that said “Laramie 16 miles”. Between Rawlins and Laramie there is not much. Medicine Bow, WY had a gas station and Bosler was a ghost town. There must have been 40 or so houses and buildings in Bosler but I found out once I got to Laramie that only 1 person lives there, and he lives in the old abandoned school building. I had strongly considered stopping here, but as I was riding through the town I had to ride at least 14 mph if I wanted to keep from getting bitten by mosquitoes. At 13mph you would still get bitten, but 14mph was just fast enough to keep them off of you. There were a couple of times when I put up with the swarms of mosquitoes biting me just so that I could have pictures of the houses that are falling apart. The last 20 miles into Laramie was possibly the hardest of the trip. Not only was I 130 miles in on the day, there was a huge storm in front of me and a head wind that kept me from going over 15mph. I was out of breath the whole time, but was doing my best not to breathe too hard because every time I did I inhaled a mosquito. I managed to avoid all of the rain and pulled into Laramie at around 7pm. My first stop was at Little Caesar’s for a $5 large pizza. I sat and ate it in the shop and finished it in about 10 minutes. As I was throwing the box away the guy behind the counter said “wait did you just finish that whole thing?” I said yeah. “Holy Shit! That guy ate that in like 7 minutes, “ he said to his co-worker and told me to look at my receipt to see how long it actually took. I had already thrown it away, but I doubt it was less than 10 minutes. I am thinking I should go into competitive eating after this trip if I can’t find a job elsewhere.
I ended up riding 151 miles that day and made it into Laramie. I figured I would get a hotel room for the night so I could take a shower and get some good sleep. As I started checking with motels, I found that few had nothing available as a result of the Rodeo that was in town. I really like Laramie because the people were so friendly and accommodating to bikers. When I pulled out of one motel, my water bladder, which holds a gallon of water for me and has saved me on several occasions, fell off the side of my bike. I turned into a parking lot to go back and just as I saw it, some cowboy and his friends in their truck swerved out of their way to hit and burst it. They turned and laughed at me as they drove past. I can’t describe how angry I was. Shortly after this another car drove past as close as possible honking the horn and the woman in the passenger seat stuck her head out the window to shout “get the fuck off the road asshole!!!” I was honked at a few more times before I made it to the hotel and was ready to chase down the next car that did anything.
Surprisingly, I didn’t feel all that terrible when I got to my room. I wasn’t sore, I was happy to be out off the street and I actually had some energy. Despite this, I showered, stretched, drank as much water as I could and went to bed knowing that I probably wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.
I woke up and my worst fears were confirmed, I could not walk. That’s an exaggeration but it was easily the sorest day of the trip! Luckily most of the ride to Fort Collins, CO was downhill. I started late that day, it was around 10am when I left, but still managed to cross the Wyoming/Colorado border before Noon. I was also impressed that I did it with just 2 liters of water and got into Fort Collins, my intended destination for the day by 1pm. I didn’t eat any breakfast before leaving that day and made my first stop at a McDonalds when I got in. I ordered 8 dollars worth of food off of the dollar menu. During lunch I started calling up my friends in Fort Collins and Denver. I was only able to get a hold of 2 people, 1 in Fort Collins, Jamie and 1 in Denver, Tim. My good friend Jamie met up with me at the New Belgium Brewery where we were going to do a tour but they were closed. We ended up just hanging out and catching up before I took off for Denver at around 4pm. Tim was the main cause for me riding another 67 miles that day. When I talked with him on the phone he said, “Why wouldn’t you ride down to Denver tonight? You should not tell anyone else and then just surprise everyone!” I knew why I didn’t want to ride to Denver but it sounded like a great plan and I am easily convinced so I continued on my way to Denver. The ride was long and had very small shoulders on the road. I wound up riding down Federal Blvd. in Denver until I arrived at my final destination at 10:30pm, well after the sun went down.
After 127 miles that day and nearly 370 in the past 3 days, being greeted with hugs and a bottle of champagne from some of my best friends was an amazing feeling! It was so amazing that I decided I didn’t want to leave and I am still here now. Well to be honest I didn’t want to try and ride 1000 miles in 9 days to make it in time for the wedding. Instead I will fly from Denver back to Chicago, go to my cousin Cathy’s wedding and then return to Denver and resume my trek across the country. I will post an update soon on what I have been up to here in Denver with my friends, but figure this will do for now!
Sorry again for the late update, I hope you enjoy!
Marcus
After several text messages, emails, phone calls, and threats from curious readers, my concerned family, stalkers, and those with no other way to procrastinate at work, I have decided to write an update. The last time that I wrote, I was in Lander, WY. I took a day off there to hang out with some locals and a hundreds of other people in town for an annual climbing festival. My day off consisted of visiting a local ice cream shop, riding around town, updating my blog, talking with some people that have given their lives to faith and eventually led me to the Lander Bar.
Early in the afternoon, I returned to the city park where I was staying to find 4 or 5 Amish looking folks pulling in on bicycles, spread all around the park. I immediately started laughing, thinking about the about the last group that I ran into on the train. I did not hesitate to go up and greet them. The men all had long beards with hair that looked like it was cut by hand. They wore blue jeans, blue collared shirts and covered up with a large tan art smock sort of thing. The women wore plain off-white dresses and had clearly not cut their hair in a long, long time. I remember thinking that one of the women would get her hair caught in the spokes of her bike while riding and began laughing at the mental image of her head being pulled back while riding. This was at a most inopportune time because she and another were walking past and looked over in disgust as I chuckled quietly. The first person I spoke with was lady who was extremely shy. She seemed to have a very hard time coming up with more than a yes or no answer as I asked her about their trip. After a very short conversation she insisted that I go speak with a guy who was pulling up to a picnic table.
Jerry was young looking guy with graying reddish brown hair and an awesome beard! He carried a briefcase and a guitar on his back. When I sat down and introduced myself we had the general bike touring conversation, where are you going? Where are you from? How long have you been out? What’s your daily mileage? It turns out that the group is not on a bike tour at all. They are a group of 22 that travel around the country trying to live their lives as early Christians did. They do not affiliate with any church, but instead try to read the bible in as many different languages and religions as possible. Jerry explained to me that they have all dedicated their lives to faith and simply let God direct where they go and what they do. No one in the group owns anything other than what they have on their bikes and Jerry estimates that he spends less than $700 each year. They get buy on dumpster diving at grocery stores, people that offer to put them up for a night or two, living in farming communes, and occasionally buying what they need. I was around for a conversation that Jerry had with a “Sister” named Ashira, regarding how they were going to restock on toilet paper by asking for the half-used rolls being thrown away at a local hotel. I spoke with the two for a bit, mostly just inquiring about their lives. Jerry has read the bible in English, Hebrew, and Greek and several times in each language. After speaking with Jerry for a while he pulled out a 16 page hand written essay on his philosophy on life and religion. It was covered with a piece of tie-dyed paper and was titled Earth’s Tears. Jerry handed it to me saying “this is what I have come up with as an explanation of how I see the world. I am not giving it to you because I think you should believe the same, but because if you understand how I see the world, than maybe you will have tolerance for others like me and eventually for everyone”. Before our conversation ended, Jerry and Ashira gave me a pocket version of the New Testament and a bookmark that said “Peace” but if read backwards said “shalom”. They wished me safe travels and I was on my way.
At around 4pm I ran into some of the locals that I met at the city park, Kyle, Cash, Mike, and Andrea. Kyle is a 26 year old with 2 DUI's, 0 front teeth, and a million stories. He works at a local climbing shop and offers to let anyone borrow his car that wants to since he hasn’t gotten his license back yet. Cash is a younger guy too, also with 2 DUI's but one of his was in Arizona, so when he wants to drive somewhere he has to blow into a breathalyzer mounted in his car. He has a handyman business that he runs and seems to be doing ok for himself. Mike and Andrea are dating and live in the Lander City Park. Their lease on a house in Lander expired and they are hanging in the park until it their new lease begins in Fort Collins. They are moving there so Andrea can finish up school at Colorado State. In the meantime they climb a whole lot and volunteer at City events like the climbing festival. Anyway, I ran into them in the park and after hanging out and talking for a while, they suggested that I go get something to eat and hang out at Lander Bar, the only bar in the city of Lander (Landerbar.com). I took their advice and upon sitting down at the bar struck up a conversation with some guy that had just finished up a NOLS course and was waiting for his old college buddies. He clearly had a head start on them and did not hesitate to buy me a beer. His name was Mike and he was from Woodstock, IL. We talked for a while/he talked for a while, telling stories about his most recent NOLS course, his outdoor experiences and travels, and made sure that I understood the value of being able to just go out into the wild and plan your own trips rather than hiring someone to guide you. After Mike’s lesson, I was about ready to take off and see what else I could find in Lander. As I was finishing the burger that I bought and getting ready to take care of my bill, Kyle and Cash walked in and sat down on the stools next to me. They were excited to see me here and Kyle “bought” a round for the 3 of us and another guy that bar tends at Lander Bar but wasn’t working. After being served, Kyle asked “how much do I owe you?” The bar tender looked at Kyle and then at the other bar tender not working and said “how much do you want to pay?” Kyle looked somewhat dumbfounded, hesitated and responded “$1.87”. After seeing this, I did not buy a single drink without including the off shift bar tender, Kyle, and Cash. We switched off buying rounds all night, the whole time I had no idea how much of what I was ordering was actually being put on my tab. At around 7 o’clock the rest of the climbing festival showed up for the Kick-Off celebration. Being that I had been hanging out all night with Lander locals, people started to confuse me for one, including the new bar tender when he asked how long I had lived in Lander for. The strange thing about Lander was that the whole time I was there I didn’t meet a single person born and raised in the town. Everyone had moved there from somewhere else and was jus adopted as a local.
The evenings events included a pull-up competition, climbing videos on the wall of the bar, and outside on the patio and small yard beside the bar, live music. I had some interesting conversation that night with some guys from Boulder, CO, a couple from Paris, and then some old guy who was over served that thought I was one of his old climbing buddies from Arkansas. I spent most of the evening talking with these people until a blue grass band started playing and a hoe down broke out in the yard of the bar. The locals that I had met, some of the climbers and me decided that we were going to dance. None of us knew what the hell we were doing or how to dance to what these guys were playing so it turned into a combination of foot stomping, spinning, clapping, and everything that you would expect to see around 1am at a hoe down. The dancing really took a turn when some guy started doing something that resembled a James Brown imitation. After that it was anything goes and things got really ugly, there was even a mosh pit. With this I decided I had had enough dancing and decided I would head back to my tent. I was surprised to see that my tab had only amounted to $17 with food. This was definitely a few beers short, but I signed off and rode my bike back.
I woke up in the morning feeling awesome and decided to have a bowl of ibuprofen for breakfast. People had already started setting up for the festival and the events were underway. I stuck around to see the sponsor tables and the first couple rounds of crate stacking. Crate stacking is where you take milk crates and stack them one on top of the next while balancing on the stack. It has got to be ridiculously hard and even thought you were tied in to a rope hanging from a tree the falls still looked like they were painful. I talked with the locals about the previous night and had some good laughs before cleaning up and saying goodbye. I was considering staying another couple nights, but they said that the festival pretty much disappears into the mountains after the first day so there wasn’t much more to see. I left at around 11am with every intention of riding 125 miles to Rawlins, WY that day followed by another 100 the day after which would land me in Laramie.
The 91 miles that I rode along highway 287 that day was something special. There 3 towns, 2 cafes, and 1 gas station. I filled up on water in Jeffrey City, an old ghost town that had at one time been home to several thousand people who worked at a Uranium mine. But after the Uranium ran out, there was no need for the town anymore either. There are two buildings in the town that are still in use. The first is the café where I stopped for some food and a refill on water. When I pulled up there was only pickup truck in front of the place. Knowing that this would be the only place to get water, I went in and found an old lady sitting at the bar playing poker on the internet, on 3 different laptops all at the same time. She looked like the lady down the street growing up that was overweight and had grey hair…you know, the one that everyone was scared to death of because she was a witch. The bar was long with only a few stools and plenty of space between them. 2 round tables were on the floor and did a terrible job of filling the room. The booze was untouched. There were 8 different bottles behind the counter and not one of them had been opened. Without turning around the woman said “Can I help you?” she sounded mad that I had interrupted her. At first I was just going to get some water and then get the hell out of there, but after hearing her say that I figured I would probably be more welcome if I bought some food, so I asked for a menu. The woman said, “Well what do you want?” They didn’t have menus. What restaurant doesn’t have menus? I didn’t know what to say so I just asked for a cheeseburger. “Fries too?” I said that would be great. She went into the back room and a couple of kids came out asking why I was riding my bike. I’m not really sure what I said but it didn’t entertain them and they just ran back after saying “that’s weird”. Next a man came out of some other door with a baby and before the door closed two more women came out. They talked to themselves and said hi to me before the old woman came back with a glass of ice water and some condiments. Another couple followed her from out of the kitchen. “Where the hell are all of these people coming from?!?!” I thought to myself, there was only one car in the parking lot! When another woman came from somewhere else and I started to watch the massive LCD TV that they had. Big Daddy was on. After about 10 minutes the chef came out with a cheese burger and fries, of course there was a chef back there. I sat and ate quietly until the old woman came up and started to tell me about how much she hated bicyclists and how they are usually “big city assholes that think were a bunch of cow dicks! You seem pretty nice though, most just come in here ask for some water and leave!” Thank God I asked for that menu! While I was eating some guy came in, sat down at the bar and asked for a 6 pack. The old woman gave him 3 bottles and 3 cans and then he just left. No wonder the bottles at the bar were unopened, this place was also the liquor store. Before I left she offered to fill up my water bottles and even put ice in them for me.
The second in Jeffery City is an old gas station that was converted to a pottery store by a guy named Byron. It’s called Monk King Bird Pottery (http://monkingbirdpottery.com/Home.html). I did not have the chance to meet Byron, but I heard that he is a really cool guy from everyone I met in Lander. I was told that you have not truly experienced Wyoming until you have hung out with Byron. Unfortunately he was not around when I got to Monk King, so I will have to return at some point. The next stop on my way was a gas station just outside of Muddy Gap, WY. It was a gas station that charged $.50 to fill up each water bottle and had a $10 minimum to use Debit cards. I didn’t have any cash on me but did have enough change for one water bottle. The guy refused to let me fill up the other water bottles so I continued with one. Before leaving some Swedish guys came up to the gas station. I gave them the heads up on water but they decided to camp at the gas station anyway. They informed me that I would have some strong head winds on the next portion of the ride, but I willing to give up on my 125 mile attempt yet.
After another couple of hours I came to Lamont, WY and Grandma’s Café. The café was in terrible shape and didn’t look like it was still in use. It was the only building in the town and I figured it was probably abandoned. It was getting pretty late and with 35 miles to go and no water, I pulled off the road. After looking at my maps to see what the next town was and giving a call home to see if someone could look something up for me, an older guy came out of Grandma’s and asked if I needed any help. He said I could camp out in back of the place and was welcome to use the bathrooms and sink. I convinced myself that 91 miles was still pretty good for the day, especially considering the night before, and decided to call it a night. I set up camp behind the diner ate some spaghetti with a can of chili before trying to find the guy that invited me to stay. His name was Cliff and I found him inside of the diner smoking cigarettes, doing a crossword puzzle, and watching Are you smarter than a 5th Grader? With special guest, Larry the Cable Guy. Cliff was only 45 but he looked like he was 60. He was unemployed and was helping out his parents by running things around the diner until he found something else. When I told him that I came from Lander that day, he said “Whoa, there’s a different place for you. Lander sure is an interesting bunch.” He was a nice guy and it was interesting talking with him. I went to bed early that night hoping that I could get a good start the next morning.
I woke up at 5:40 that morning and had left Lamont and Grandma’s Diner by 6:30 I was happy to be on the road and on my way just as the sun was rising. I pulled into to Rawlins before 9am only to find that nothing was open in the town except for an Amish Bakery and Discount food store. “HAHA…We meet again!” I thought as I walked past a couple of Amish women. I took special not of their footwear, not Reebok but Asics. Either way they were made in a sweatshop somewhere in Asia. I was surprised at how cheap everything was; open boxes of cereal, expired granola bars, brown bananas…it was all at least 50% off! I stuck with the stuff from the bakery which was also quite cheap. I bought an 8 pack of doughnuts for $1 and ordered some waffles. I ate all of it before I left there and picked up a couple of dented cans of tuna and beans for later that day.
At Rawlins, highway 287 joins up with Interstate 80, so I had no choice but to ride on the shoulder with cars passing me at 80mph. I was sure to take picture of this! Where 287 separates from 80 there is a small gas station. I stopped in filled up with water and asked the guy if taking 287 to Laramie instead of 80 would add many miles. He said “yeah, maybe 7 or 8” as he sat there smoking a cigarette while hooked up to an oxygen tank. Thinking that I had 135 miles to Laramie from the start of the day I figured 7 or 8 more miles couldn’t hurt. I decided that locals are not to be trusted on distances when at mile 135 I saw a sign that said “Laramie 16 miles”. Between Rawlins and Laramie there is not much. Medicine Bow, WY had a gas station and Bosler was a ghost town. There must have been 40 or so houses and buildings in Bosler but I found out once I got to Laramie that only 1 person lives there, and he lives in the old abandoned school building. I had strongly considered stopping here, but as I was riding through the town I had to ride at least 14 mph if I wanted to keep from getting bitten by mosquitoes. At 13mph you would still get bitten, but 14mph was just fast enough to keep them off of you. There were a couple of times when I put up with the swarms of mosquitoes biting me just so that I could have pictures of the houses that are falling apart. The last 20 miles into Laramie was possibly the hardest of the trip. Not only was I 130 miles in on the day, there was a huge storm in front of me and a head wind that kept me from going over 15mph. I was out of breath the whole time, but was doing my best not to breathe too hard because every time I did I inhaled a mosquito. I managed to avoid all of the rain and pulled into Laramie at around 7pm. My first stop was at Little Caesar’s for a $5 large pizza. I sat and ate it in the shop and finished it in about 10 minutes. As I was throwing the box away the guy behind the counter said “wait did you just finish that whole thing?” I said yeah. “Holy Shit! That guy ate that in like 7 minutes, “ he said to his co-worker and told me to look at my receipt to see how long it actually took. I had already thrown it away, but I doubt it was less than 10 minutes. I am thinking I should go into competitive eating after this trip if I can’t find a job elsewhere.
I ended up riding 151 miles that day and made it into Laramie. I figured I would get a hotel room for the night so I could take a shower and get some good sleep. As I started checking with motels, I found that few had nothing available as a result of the Rodeo that was in town. I really like Laramie because the people were so friendly and accommodating to bikers. When I pulled out of one motel, my water bladder, which holds a gallon of water for me and has saved me on several occasions, fell off the side of my bike. I turned into a parking lot to go back and just as I saw it, some cowboy and his friends in their truck swerved out of their way to hit and burst it. They turned and laughed at me as they drove past. I can’t describe how angry I was. Shortly after this another car drove past as close as possible honking the horn and the woman in the passenger seat stuck her head out the window to shout “get the fuck off the road asshole!!!” I was honked at a few more times before I made it to the hotel and was ready to chase down the next car that did anything.
Surprisingly, I didn’t feel all that terrible when I got to my room. I wasn’t sore, I was happy to be out off the street and I actually had some energy. Despite this, I showered, stretched, drank as much water as I could and went to bed knowing that I probably wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.
I woke up and my worst fears were confirmed, I could not walk. That’s an exaggeration but it was easily the sorest day of the trip! Luckily most of the ride to Fort Collins, CO was downhill. I started late that day, it was around 10am when I left, but still managed to cross the Wyoming/Colorado border before Noon. I was also impressed that I did it with just 2 liters of water and got into Fort Collins, my intended destination for the day by 1pm. I didn’t eat any breakfast before leaving that day and made my first stop at a McDonalds when I got in. I ordered 8 dollars worth of food off of the dollar menu. During lunch I started calling up my friends in Fort Collins and Denver. I was only able to get a hold of 2 people, 1 in Fort Collins, Jamie and 1 in Denver, Tim. My good friend Jamie met up with me at the New Belgium Brewery where we were going to do a tour but they were closed. We ended up just hanging out and catching up before I took off for Denver at around 4pm. Tim was the main cause for me riding another 67 miles that day. When I talked with him on the phone he said, “Why wouldn’t you ride down to Denver tonight? You should not tell anyone else and then just surprise everyone!” I knew why I didn’t want to ride to Denver but it sounded like a great plan and I am easily convinced so I continued on my way to Denver. The ride was long and had very small shoulders on the road. I wound up riding down Federal Blvd. in Denver until I arrived at my final destination at 10:30pm, well after the sun went down.
After 127 miles that day and nearly 370 in the past 3 days, being greeted with hugs and a bottle of champagne from some of my best friends was an amazing feeling! It was so amazing that I decided I didn’t want to leave and I am still here now. Well to be honest I didn’t want to try and ride 1000 miles in 9 days to make it in time for the wedding. Instead I will fly from Denver back to Chicago, go to my cousin Cathy’s wedding and then return to Denver and resume my trek across the country. I will post an update soon on what I have been up to here in Denver with my friends, but figure this will do for now!
Sorry again for the late update, I hope you enjoy!
Marcus
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
I ate an entire loaf of bread while writing this
7/8/09
I wasn't sure what to title this and after reaching into an empty bread bag that was full when I began, I knew immediately.
The morning I left Yellowstone I also left all of my friends behind. Before leaving, I gave Tyler a simple "Big gulps huh? Welp...see ya later" and took off. He continued north through the park to Montana that day. Gabe and Clay were ready to leave by the time I woke up and got a head start on me. I caught up and passed them by the time I got out of Yellowstone. They simply can't keep up with this...nuff said. As much as I miss the Dumb and Dummer quotes and having someone to talk to at the end of the day, it is nice to be on my own again. I am riding at my own pace and am taking on longer distances each day than I was before. The nice thing about riding solo is that you can break off and do your own thing at any time.
On the way out of the park I could see some clouds in the distance but didn't think too much of it. After riding a bit the clouds started to look worse so I stopped and pulled out my rain jacket. About 5 minutes later the temperature dropped to 40 degrees (i have a mini thermometer) and rain was soon to follow. A bit later I stopped before a construction zone to where they only had one lane open. The flagman said I was allowed to ride it but could not stop and had to keep pace with the traffic. It was a 9 mile zone and all downhill. I was riding down a long and relatively steep hill when the rain changed to hail...awesome. The hail quickly grew to the size of marbles and at a speed of just under 30mph it really hurt! The whole time I wanted to stop real bad, but had nowhere and was told not to slow traffic, so I kept on chugging along being blasted by the ice pellets. The sting was similar to being hit with a paintball gun or a air soft gun only it didn't stop. My thighs and arms were getting hit the most but the shots to the hands and fingers, which were freezing cold, stung the worst. At one point I looked up to see how much farther before the front of the storm and was rocked in the face, I didn't make this mistake again. Though it was painful, the storm produced one of the coolest views that I have seen on the trip. The section of the road in the hail storm was lined with trees creating what looked like a tunnel. Through the tunnel of trees you could see one of the Grand Tetons with the sun shining down on it. The base of the mountain was bright green and led up to a snow capped rocky peak that the Tetons are known for. The dark trees and clouds framed the mountain perfectly through the hail. The combination of all of these elements at once was an overwhelming and beautiful view that I will not soon forget. The hail and rain both ended before I left the construction zone, and I rode out of Yellowstone in sunshine. Just outside of the the park I stopped at a gas station to dry off a bit and get something to eat. I picked up a bag of doughnuts and a coffee, thinking I would eat some of the doughnuts now and have some later on as a snack along the road. I ate the whole bag in one sitting and pedaled away from the gas station craving more. I have no self-control when it comes to food.
Just past the gas station is the entrance to Grand Tetons N.P. I have seen tons of pictures and heard amazing stories about this park and to ride through it was even more amazing. At the base of the Tetons is Jackson Lake. The lake is massive, perfectly clear, and is so close to the mountains that it looks as if the peaks come straight out of the water. The Tetons themselves are the definition of Rocky Mountains. They are jagged dark rock with steep slopes and snow dusting random spots near the top. There are peaks everywhere of different shapes and sizes and no matter how many times I have looked at them before, they still amaze me. If you block out the cars and tourists, it looks like something you would see in Lord of the Rings. I stopped several times to take pictures and hiked around different areas. I had the same problem here as I did in Yellowstone, everything is so far away that to see it on a bike would take weeks. The Tetons were easily my favorite ride of the trip so far. I was planning on riding to Dubois that day, but after speaking with a woman late in the day, I decided to check out Jackson, WY. She said, "Its an absolute nut house! If you have ever wanted to see it you should check it out, you're too close to miss it". I had to ride about 30 miles longer that day to get down to Jackson and I got in late enough that everything but a couple of bars and restaurants were closed, not as previously described. I guess our interpretations of nut house are different. Even with everything closed I rode around town and found that it was much more of a tourist attraction than a real town. I continued on the next day riding highway 287 to Dubois with a group called America by Bicycle.
America by Bike is mainly older guys, "bucket listers" as one of the guides described them, who ride the nicest bikes money can buy, stay in hotels every night, and have someone else carry their gear for them. I stopped at a turnout to enjoy a view and take some pictures when a guy name Jack came riding up to me. "Let me borrow your bike for a second" he said to me as he let his bike, a very nice carbon framed Specialized, drop to the ground. He posed with my bike for a picture and said, "I'm going to show all of my friends back home this picture and tell them I carried 200lbs across America." I spoke with him and his riding friend for a while before we took off down the road again. He also took a picture of me with the Tetons in the background that he sent to me later that night. I rode with this group all day trying to gauge what kind of shape I am in. It took everything I had to keep up with them and there was really no purpose to this other than to prove to myself that I could. It was frustrating to watch these guys climb with little effort while I had to gear down and try to keep up my momentum. I managed to keep up though, finishing before several people in their group and I paid for it the following morning when I woke up sore as hell. One of the guys I was riding with said to me, "We're crazy, but you're insane" after he tried to pick up my bike comparing it to his custom built Titanium frame. Most of the ride that day was uphill to Togwotee Pass. I even reached a new high point at an elevation of 10,691ft.
After the Pass, I coasted into Dubois where I met a family of three doing a tour. I did not know it when I met them, but I have been hearing about Alan, Donna, and Lewis Jackson since day one from every cyclist I have seen. In Eugene, the family went into a Safeway to pick up some food. They returned to find that Donna's bike had been stolen. Hearing this, local news stations and radio stations started advertising and raised $1700 for them and managed to find the bike. They were a nice enough family and I hung out with them that night. Walking around town I ran into Jack and some of the other America by Bike guys. We started talking and they said they were going to go get some beers after dinner and invited us. Alan seemed irritated with these guys and when I asked if he wanted to go grab a beer with them later he said, "why would I want to do that? I have nothing in common with those guys! They don't do the same thing I do! Why would I do that?" Easy Al! Chill out man it was just a question. I found out later that Alan resents supported touring cyclists and refuses to he is similar to them in any way. I ended up splitting a 6-pack with Alan and Donna. They are extremely over-protective of their son Lewis who is now 9. They didn't hesitate to tell other kids at the campground that they should let Lewis play with them.
I headed to bed early that night worn out from the ride and woke up pretty late. Breakfast took a long time as other people in the park kept coming up and talking to me. My favorite was a guy named Claude. Claude was traveling around with his wife and ATV's, stopping at places that they heard were fun. He is a Vietnam Vet that used to be a biker (Harley biker, not cyclist biker) and has since taken a more comfy seat inside of a HUGE Dodge pickup. He had long graying hair held back by a bandanna, has the voice of a long time smoker and the body of a 75 year old even though he is only 52. He told me stories about when his used to ride mountain bikes and Harley's and tour around country. None of the stories seemed to have any logical connection, but he told them as if it were one related directly to the next. This delayed my start time to 10:15. By the time I left it had already started to heat up. I made it about 30 miles out of town and passed by a sign saying "Wind River Reservation". I should have expected it after this sign, but was caught completely off guard when I was his with a real strong head wind. I cruised for a long time at only 7 mph's flats and 11 going downhill. It was terrible! Eventually the wind or the road would shift giving me a crosswind, but I never managed to get it at my back. The crosswinds were just as frustrating as the head winds because even though they didn't slow me down as much, I had to have the bike tilted at a 15 degree angle just to keep from being knocked down. As I was cursing out the wind and the road and the state of Wyoming, a car drove past and came to a quick stop. "Oh, shit!" I thought as I realized that this guys windows were open as I was shouting profanities at the wind. I thought for sure he thought I was shouting at him and after hearing stories of confrontations from other bikers riding through Indian Reservations, I immediately assumed the worst. Turns out the guy didn't hear me, he just wanted to offer me a bottle of water. I accepted it and he continued on his way with few words. My ride for the day has landed me in Lander, WY, easily the most liberal town I have been to in Wyoming. I am camped in the City Park along with a bunch of people in town for a climbing festival. I think I will stick around to see what the fest is about and see what the town of Lander is like.
For food I have been eating the usual but have spiced up the Peanut butter tortillas with Nutella, and for dinner I have been adding in random things that I might see in a store. Last night I ate a whole carton of Cottage cheese, Pork and Beans, a box of Pop Tarts (S'mores), some tuna and cheese sandwiches and a banana. It is all random stuff, but it is nice to have variety when I can. My SPF 85 ran out the other day, the same day that I wore a sleeveless jersey for the first time. I now have sunburn and blisters on my shoulders and a well defined burn line. The butt is getting better and my Uncle Mike was right, duct tape does not help the chaffing (read that comment a couple days too late).
I hope to be in Denver by next week and am going to try riding consecutive 100 mile days just to see if I can. I no longer wake up sore after 70 and 80 mile days as long as I am not racing through them, so I figure it will be no problem.
-Marcus
I wasn't sure what to title this and after reaching into an empty bread bag that was full when I began, I knew immediately.
The morning I left Yellowstone I also left all of my friends behind. Before leaving, I gave Tyler a simple "Big gulps huh? Welp...see ya later" and took off. He continued north through the park to Montana that day. Gabe and Clay were ready to leave by the time I woke up and got a head start on me. I caught up and passed them by the time I got out of Yellowstone. They simply can't keep up with this...nuff said. As much as I miss the Dumb and Dummer quotes and having someone to talk to at the end of the day, it is nice to be on my own again. I am riding at my own pace and am taking on longer distances each day than I was before. The nice thing about riding solo is that you can break off and do your own thing at any time.
On the way out of the park I could see some clouds in the distance but didn't think too much of it. After riding a bit the clouds started to look worse so I stopped and pulled out my rain jacket. About 5 minutes later the temperature dropped to 40 degrees (i have a mini thermometer) and rain was soon to follow. A bit later I stopped before a construction zone to where they only had one lane open. The flagman said I was allowed to ride it but could not stop and had to keep pace with the traffic. It was a 9 mile zone and all downhill. I was riding down a long and relatively steep hill when the rain changed to hail...awesome. The hail quickly grew to the size of marbles and at a speed of just under 30mph it really hurt! The whole time I wanted to stop real bad, but had nowhere and was told not to slow traffic, so I kept on chugging along being blasted by the ice pellets. The sting was similar to being hit with a paintball gun or a air soft gun only it didn't stop. My thighs and arms were getting hit the most but the shots to the hands and fingers, which were freezing cold, stung the worst. At one point I looked up to see how much farther before the front of the storm and was rocked in the face, I didn't make this mistake again. Though it was painful, the storm produced one of the coolest views that I have seen on the trip. The section of the road in the hail storm was lined with trees creating what looked like a tunnel. Through the tunnel of trees you could see one of the Grand Tetons with the sun shining down on it. The base of the mountain was bright green and led up to a snow capped rocky peak that the Tetons are known for. The dark trees and clouds framed the mountain perfectly through the hail. The combination of all of these elements at once was an overwhelming and beautiful view that I will not soon forget. The hail and rain both ended before I left the construction zone, and I rode out of Yellowstone in sunshine. Just outside of the the park I stopped at a gas station to dry off a bit and get something to eat. I picked up a bag of doughnuts and a coffee, thinking I would eat some of the doughnuts now and have some later on as a snack along the road. I ate the whole bag in one sitting and pedaled away from the gas station craving more. I have no self-control when it comes to food.
Just past the gas station is the entrance to Grand Tetons N.P. I have seen tons of pictures and heard amazing stories about this park and to ride through it was even more amazing. At the base of the Tetons is Jackson Lake. The lake is massive, perfectly clear, and is so close to the mountains that it looks as if the peaks come straight out of the water. The Tetons themselves are the definition of Rocky Mountains. They are jagged dark rock with steep slopes and snow dusting random spots near the top. There are peaks everywhere of different shapes and sizes and no matter how many times I have looked at them before, they still amaze me. If you block out the cars and tourists, it looks like something you would see in Lord of the Rings. I stopped several times to take pictures and hiked around different areas. I had the same problem here as I did in Yellowstone, everything is so far away that to see it on a bike would take weeks. The Tetons were easily my favorite ride of the trip so far. I was planning on riding to Dubois that day, but after speaking with a woman late in the day, I decided to check out Jackson, WY. She said, "Its an absolute nut house! If you have ever wanted to see it you should check it out, you're too close to miss it". I had to ride about 30 miles longer that day to get down to Jackson and I got in late enough that everything but a couple of bars and restaurants were closed, not as previously described. I guess our interpretations of nut house are different. Even with everything closed I rode around town and found that it was much more of a tourist attraction than a real town. I continued on the next day riding highway 287 to Dubois with a group called America by Bicycle.
America by Bike is mainly older guys, "bucket listers" as one of the guides described them, who ride the nicest bikes money can buy, stay in hotels every night, and have someone else carry their gear for them. I stopped at a turnout to enjoy a view and take some pictures when a guy name Jack came riding up to me. "Let me borrow your bike for a second" he said to me as he let his bike, a very nice carbon framed Specialized, drop to the ground. He posed with my bike for a picture and said, "I'm going to show all of my friends back home this picture and tell them I carried 200lbs across America." I spoke with him and his riding friend for a while before we took off down the road again. He also took a picture of me with the Tetons in the background that he sent to me later that night. I rode with this group all day trying to gauge what kind of shape I am in. It took everything I had to keep up with them and there was really no purpose to this other than to prove to myself that I could. It was frustrating to watch these guys climb with little effort while I had to gear down and try to keep up my momentum. I managed to keep up though, finishing before several people in their group and I paid for it the following morning when I woke up sore as hell. One of the guys I was riding with said to me, "We're crazy, but you're insane" after he tried to pick up my bike comparing it to his custom built Titanium frame. Most of the ride that day was uphill to Togwotee Pass. I even reached a new high point at an elevation of 10,691ft.
After the Pass, I coasted into Dubois where I met a family of three doing a tour. I did not know it when I met them, but I have been hearing about Alan, Donna, and Lewis Jackson since day one from every cyclist I have seen. In Eugene, the family went into a Safeway to pick up some food. They returned to find that Donna's bike had been stolen. Hearing this, local news stations and radio stations started advertising and raised $1700 for them and managed to find the bike. They were a nice enough family and I hung out with them that night. Walking around town I ran into Jack and some of the other America by Bike guys. We started talking and they said they were going to go get some beers after dinner and invited us. Alan seemed irritated with these guys and when I asked if he wanted to go grab a beer with them later he said, "why would I want to do that? I have nothing in common with those guys! They don't do the same thing I do! Why would I do that?" Easy Al! Chill out man it was just a question. I found out later that Alan resents supported touring cyclists and refuses to he is similar to them in any way. I ended up splitting a 6-pack with Alan and Donna. They are extremely over-protective of their son Lewis who is now 9. They didn't hesitate to tell other kids at the campground that they should let Lewis play with them.
I headed to bed early that night worn out from the ride and woke up pretty late. Breakfast took a long time as other people in the park kept coming up and talking to me. My favorite was a guy named Claude. Claude was traveling around with his wife and ATV's, stopping at places that they heard were fun. He is a Vietnam Vet that used to be a biker (Harley biker, not cyclist biker) and has since taken a more comfy seat inside of a HUGE Dodge pickup. He had long graying hair held back by a bandanna, has the voice of a long time smoker and the body of a 75 year old even though he is only 52. He told me stories about when his used to ride mountain bikes and Harley's and tour around country. None of the stories seemed to have any logical connection, but he told them as if it were one related directly to the next. This delayed my start time to 10:15. By the time I left it had already started to heat up. I made it about 30 miles out of town and passed by a sign saying "Wind River Reservation". I should have expected it after this sign, but was caught completely off guard when I was his with a real strong head wind. I cruised for a long time at only 7 mph's flats and 11 going downhill. It was terrible! Eventually the wind or the road would shift giving me a crosswind, but I never managed to get it at my back. The crosswinds were just as frustrating as the head winds because even though they didn't slow me down as much, I had to have the bike tilted at a 15 degree angle just to keep from being knocked down. As I was cursing out the wind and the road and the state of Wyoming, a car drove past and came to a quick stop. "Oh, shit!" I thought as I realized that this guys windows were open as I was shouting profanities at the wind. I thought for sure he thought I was shouting at him and after hearing stories of confrontations from other bikers riding through Indian Reservations, I immediately assumed the worst. Turns out the guy didn't hear me, he just wanted to offer me a bottle of water. I accepted it and he continued on his way with few words. My ride for the day has landed me in Lander, WY, easily the most liberal town I have been to in Wyoming. I am camped in the City Park along with a bunch of people in town for a climbing festival. I think I will stick around to see what the fest is about and see what the town of Lander is like.
For food I have been eating the usual but have spiced up the Peanut butter tortillas with Nutella, and for dinner I have been adding in random things that I might see in a store. Last night I ate a whole carton of Cottage cheese, Pork and Beans, a box of Pop Tarts (S'mores), some tuna and cheese sandwiches and a banana. It is all random stuff, but it is nice to have variety when I can. My SPF 85 ran out the other day, the same day that I wore a sleeveless jersey for the first time. I now have sunburn and blisters on my shoulders and a well defined burn line. The butt is getting better and my Uncle Mike was right, duct tape does not help the chaffing (read that comment a couple days too late).
I hope to be in Denver by next week and am going to try riding consecutive 100 mile days just to see if I can. I no longer wake up sore after 70 and 80 mile days as long as I am not racing through them, so I figure it will be no problem.
-Marcus
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Fireworks...well sort of.
Yesterday I was going to take a day off and celebrate America's birthday in Yellowstone NP. This plan would have worked out much better had I been touring in a car. After entering the park the day before, I rode 14 miles to the nearest campground and stayed there in a hiker/biker site. From there it was 16 miles to Old Faithful along a gravel bike path. Along the way I stopped to take a picture of a buffalo. While messing around with the zoom on the camera and trying to get a good shot of it, I noticed it started to trot toward the path. Earlier in the day I read a sign that said they can run at 30 miles an hour and so I decide it would be best to get going without a solid picture. We made frequent stops along the path at geysers and sulfur hot springs. We didn't leave the bikes continued until we came to the trail head of hike with a waterfall. The waterfall wasn't very impressive, but I saw a Marmot along the way which immediately triggered quotes from "The Big Lebowski"(Nice marmot...man). While hiking away from the falls it started to cloud up and rain. As the rain got worse, the lightning and thunder followed. Shortly after we started to sprint for the bikes, the hail came down. In the distance we could see a funnel cloud. We shouted curses the last 6 miles to Old Faithful as we were pelted in the face with hail. Once at Old Faithful we stopped and ate at a diner letting the storm pass before we started the final 22 miles to Grant Village, the next campground. This ride took us across the Continental Divide twice and brought us to the highest elevation of the trip, 8391ft. The route also brought us through the first area with snow on the road, some you could tell had fallen that day. The rain continued on and off all day and the temperature dropped down to about 40 degrees. I didn't see any fireworks all day but the epic weather display made up for it.
Clay and Gabe had ridden off on their own to see some pool, so I was riding with Tyler most of the day. Going through the passes and the snow we quoted Dumb and Dummer the whole way. Popular quotes included "you've had two pairs of gloves this whole time? Yeah man were in the Rockies!" "I thought the Rocky Mountains would be a little rockier than this. Yeah that John Denver was full of shit!" "Just go man...oh that's warm" and "we're there..." The quotes are what kept us going, them and the fear that if we stopped a grizzly or some wolves might decide to take their chances on the guys with road flares.
At Grant village we paid for a camp site and were informed by the ranger that there is a grizzly with a cub near by. This was comforting.
When we got to the camp site a swarm of mosquitoes began to attack. They were relentless. Fire, tea tree oil and deet did not deter them. I went to a grill nearby and had a burger for dinner rather than catching West Nile while trying to make spaghetti. To celebrate the forth of July I decided to buy a flask of Yellowstone, Kentucky Bourbon named after the park and distilled in St. Louis. I wasn't expecting much, but it tasted like gasoline...or what I imagine gas to taste like. After failing to build a fire with wet wood and without seeing fireworks, I went to bed.
I am happy to get out of the heat of the Snake River Valley. The spf 85 kept burning to a minimum, except where my shorts slid up my leg during the day. As a result, it looks like I have tiger stripes all over my mid thigh. My seat is finally starting to break in and just in time too. I have anti-chaf cream, but I'm considering throwing a couple strips of duct tape on the cheeks to add an extra layer of protection. Showering hasn't been as frequent as I would like and I look homeless with the dirty ginger beard that I am growing. I have been able to keep my clothes from smelling too bad, but my shoes definitely have Da Funk! I can't bring them in my tent anymore.
Today I took a day off. I spent most of the day doing laundry and sleeping, but found time to get a shower in. Entertainment for the day included getting hit on the shoulder with bird poop and building a bon fire that extended well beyond the fire pit. One log has been burning for about 6 hours now, it started off about 4ft long and 1ft in diameter...only you can prevent forest fires. Something I find interesting about being in Yellowstone is that there seems to be more foreigners than Americans here. Camping around us are families from New Zealand, Germany, Japan, and Guatemala. Also, a corporation called Xanterra now manages all of the services in the park, seems kind of strange to me.
Tomorrow I will ride through the Grand Tetons...my legs already feel swollen.
-Marcus
Clay and Gabe had ridden off on their own to see some pool, so I was riding with Tyler most of the day. Going through the passes and the snow we quoted Dumb and Dummer the whole way. Popular quotes included "you've had two pairs of gloves this whole time? Yeah man were in the Rockies!" "I thought the Rocky Mountains would be a little rockier than this. Yeah that John Denver was full of shit!" "Just go man...oh that's warm" and "we're there..." The quotes are what kept us going, them and the fear that if we stopped a grizzly or some wolves might decide to take their chances on the guys with road flares.
At Grant village we paid for a camp site and were informed by the ranger that there is a grizzly with a cub near by. This was comforting.
When we got to the camp site a swarm of mosquitoes began to attack. They were relentless. Fire, tea tree oil and deet did not deter them. I went to a grill nearby and had a burger for dinner rather than catching West Nile while trying to make spaghetti. To celebrate the forth of July I decided to buy a flask of Yellowstone, Kentucky Bourbon named after the park and distilled in St. Louis. I wasn't expecting much, but it tasted like gasoline...or what I imagine gas to taste like. After failing to build a fire with wet wood and without seeing fireworks, I went to bed.
I am happy to get out of the heat of the Snake River Valley. The spf 85 kept burning to a minimum, except where my shorts slid up my leg during the day. As a result, it looks like I have tiger stripes all over my mid thigh. My seat is finally starting to break in and just in time too. I have anti-chaf cream, but I'm considering throwing a couple strips of duct tape on the cheeks to add an extra layer of protection. Showering hasn't been as frequent as I would like and I look homeless with the dirty ginger beard that I am growing. I have been able to keep my clothes from smelling too bad, but my shoes definitely have Da Funk! I can't bring them in my tent anymore.
Today I took a day off. I spent most of the day doing laundry and sleeping, but found time to get a shower in. Entertainment for the day included getting hit on the shoulder with bird poop and building a bon fire that extended well beyond the fire pit. One log has been burning for about 6 hours now, it started off about 4ft long and 1ft in diameter...only you can prevent forest fires. Something I find interesting about being in Yellowstone is that there seems to be more foreigners than Americans here. Camping around us are families from New Zealand, Germany, Japan, and Guatemala. Also, a corporation called Xanterra now manages all of the services in the park, seems kind of strange to me.
Tomorrow I will ride through the Grand Tetons...my legs already feel swollen.
-Marcus
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