Day 22 Harriman, TN to Asheville, NC 155.1 miles

It was another beautiful day to behold as I worked my way through TVA and Knoxville area, and the French Broad River basin. By now I’m just grinning from ear to ear knowing I’ll be in NC by nightfall with my wife and within a day’s ride to home. I chuckled often to myself because I really had no concept of how far 150 miles was. When I saw while mapping out my route for the final day that Asheville was only 120 miles from Davidson I realized I had been putting some good distance down each day. Asheville, once a faraway distant and unreachable place by bicycle a few months earlier was now considered a short day for me. That’s a different perspective.
I stopped to take a picture of the TVA area and a motorist stopped to talk about my miles and to express his own desire to go cross country but unfortunately couldn’t afford the time. Life will get away from you if you let it.
I thought it had been a while since I took a headshot so I did my worst while pedaling up one of the mountains. My hair is getting wily. The Appalachians are quite beautiful and left me thinking why I hadn’t spent more time riding through the area. I plan to fix the problem soon. The roads through the mountains (US-25/US-70) are gorgeous and the weather was perfect, I slowed my pace a bit to enjoy the afternoon. The road into Asheville however was treacherous, jarring, and becoming an interstate. I’m not real sure why rumble strips are required to run all the down exit ramps but it wasn’t fun to negotiate the strips while dodging traffic on broken up shoulders. I made it in one piece though with the help of some drivers who allowed me to cross lanes in order to get into Asheville. I believe Merrimon Ave should be used coming from the north.
I arrived in Asheville around 6 and was more than excited to have dinner with Stephanie at the Laughing Seed. Unfortunately it is closed on Tuesdays. We did the next best thing and had dinner at the brewery below. We enjoyed the corn chowder especially. We’ll have to make a return visit for the Laughing Seed soon. We stayed at the Renaissance which was quite different from the one in Charlotte in terms of fancy. I probably stunk up the place being on the road for so long. I still have a hard time believing Asheville is only around 120 miles to Davidson.

Day 22 Clarksville TN, to Harriman, TN 191.2 miles

Wow, what a day. Knowing I had a long day ahead of me, I made sure I wore my haulin’ ass socks to keep me going. This day is the kind of day cyclists dream of and hope every day will be. What makes this day even far more exceptional is I had 13 hours of the best ride. After 5 weeks of riding I finally felt like there was no hill big enough to tire my legs, I felt like I was in shape at last. Every cyclist knows the feeling, sometime in the middle of the summer each year the legs become strong and impenetrable. These Rockies seasoned legs finally got the feeling. There were a couple climbs today, one 5 mile climb had a local ask me if I’d like a ride to the top. He was surprised to hear I came from Seattle. Each of the climbs were flattened by my gears, I cruised up and down the hills with ease.
I made it to Crossville and caught a flat from a heavy staple. Fortunately I was forced to stop in front of the fire chief Mike Turner’s house where his daughter called him and he was there in 30 seconds to help. A fellow cyclist, we shared stories of adventures and he also told me about how he was riding along on the same road and some kids had shot him in the back with a pellet gun. I am glad I still don’t have any stories like that to share. Big thanks to Mike and his daughter for their help with the flat.
Also along the way I saw the typical bicycle route sign but this one had another sign below it indicating a campground 3 miles ahead. I think this is a perfect way to give cyclists a heads up on what’s ahead by posting signs with the bike route sign. The advertising funding similar to what we see near interstate exits could help pay for the proper signage for cyclists finding their way around the state.
I had high hopes I would make it to Knoxville or Maryville by the end of the day but Harriman was the furthest the light would take me. I decided I wouldn’t do anymore night riding in the interest of preserving my life for natural causes of death. I’m sure the life insurance company also appreciated my consideration too.
I went to a Mexican restaurant this evening, they brought out three plates of food which I didn’t intend to eat so much but I did anyways. The expediter was a little confused who he should deliver 3 plates of food since it was just me and one other person in the restaurant. I had 3 tamales, a plate of rice and beans, a burrito, a basket of chips, and 32 oz of beer for around $15. Not bad at all. Other calories included a bowl of cheerios, 2 muffins, a banana, 1.75 gallons of Gatorade, and 1 M&M pack.
Tomorrow I will meet my wife in Asheville 155 miles away over the Appalachians. I expect it to be a tough day since it should be all uphill. My wife and I love the restaurant Laughing Seed so we’re looking forward to a good dinner tomorrow!

Day 21 Cape Girardeau, MO to Clarksville, TN 164.7 miles

Hampton Inn had a great breakfast, I had 2 danishes, a bowl of cheerios, a giant blueberry muffin, a yogurt, and washed it down with a couple glasses of orange juice. I had the spread out before me at the table and felt like eyes were on me judging how much I was consuming. I was in the 24 Hours of Booty kit so I was a sight regardless.
I was on the road by 7:30 confident I would make some good miles since a cold front had pushed through overnight and the high today would be 90. The winds are picking up in my favor according to the weather channel, but we’ll see if they’re right.
As the trees became a part of the landscape I was more aware of being in the south. There were no more casinos and gambling halls. Churches replaced liquor stores on the street corners. Kudzu was rampant. In Missouri there were oak trees everywhere, I began to recognize the foliage. Aspen trees, to me, are exotic. I entered Illinois with much internal fanfare after crossing the Mississippi. I was officially in the east and the wind started to pick up in my favor as predicted. Illinois had beautiful roads and good asphalt. There wasn’t a lot of people around as I thought there would be, the land was kind of swampy from the river. I rode into Cairo to a shocking scene. It was as though the town stopped its clock in 1950. There were blocks and blocks of buildings with “Speakeasy” signs and other notes of an earlier time. There were no gas stations, no chain restaurants, only rundown buildings, homes, and broken windows. The city’s residents were destroying their own town. I later looked up the town on Wikipedia and it confirmed my thoughts, it was a town built for 20,000 but only had 3,000 people living in it. The remaining residents looked like zombies milling around town, it was a sad sight to see. If Hollywood wanted to do a post apocalyptic movie this town would fit the bill. I did not take any pictures, no one frame would do the town any justice. Apparently there are many towns along the Mississippi where dependency on the river trade made them obsolete after the 40s and 50s. There is a lot of heritage in the towns and I think I would like to tour the old river road someday in the future before it is gone. I left Cairo over the Ohio River and into Kentucky with some trepidation as I hear the locals are less than friendly with cyclists as well as their dogs.
I had nothing to fear in Kentucky, it was a nice leisurely ride in the 80s with the wind at my back. The motorists gave me plenty of room on my way through Mayfield and Murray. An odd feature of Kentucky roads was the rumble strips which seemed to be an afterthought of state legislation to mandate rumble strips on all state roads. The rumble strips looked like they were formed by a tractor rolling a tank tread over the outer edge of the road where most of the strip was about 3 to 6 inches wide. I’d be in the ditch before I would wake up from those road strips. These road features just meant I had to ride to the left of the white line which I wasn’t excited about. KY-121 was a great road though with good asphalt, I entered Tennessee welcomed by a confederate flag at the border, I consider it the unofficial entrance to the south.
I was happy to be in Tennessee, it was adjacent to North Carolina and would be a reasonable drive for my wife should she have to come pick me up for some reason. I was in Clarksville by 7:30 but I thought it was 8:30 because of eastern time. I was wrong though, and I would never find out where the change in time was. I stayed at a sad Quality Inn that was a former Holiday Inn setup with the indoor pool and gaming area surrounded by the guest rooms. It was a large compound for so few guests. I think 4 rooms were occupied that evening. The pushboard letter sign noted Quality Inn but the years of dust still hinted the welcome to Holiday Inn. It appeared the enclosed bar overlooking the pool was now a storage area. Everything looked tired like me. My dinner options were Hooters or Shoney’s. I walked over to Shoney’s to friendly service, lasagna, a nacho appetizer mess, sweet tea, and a sundae. All for $15. Nicely done. I normally don’t drink caffeinated drinks at night but going to sleep was easy these days and the novelty of ordering “tea” without attaching “sweet” in front of it to get sweet tea attracted me to order it. That’s the 2nd sign you’re in the south, no tea comes without a pound of sugar in it.
The weather channel indicated westerly winds at 10-20mph for the day tomorrow so I have high hopes of doing another 200 mile day like the one out of Colorado. I was planning a rest day in Nashville because I am extremely tired after the past week but I can’t pass up good tailwinds and a mid 80s day. It’s a gift I won’t turn away. We’ll see what happens.
Calories were the Hampton breakfast, Shoney’s dinner, 2 gallons of Gatorade, 1 M&M pack, and it was nice to ride a dry bike with dry handlebars without all the heat.

Day 20 Saint James, MO to Cape Girardeau, MO 152.6 miles

I was on the road by 6am to escape the crazy motel room with the living TV. After that experience I used my USACycling license benefits to get 10% off a hotel reservation at the Hampton Inn in Cape Girardeau. I was committed to getting there by then end of the day.
My bike did not dry off from the prior day, it was extremely humid. I greeted a beautiful morning and rode for hours through the calm country. I would occasionally get a jolt of reality when a dog would chase me. I learned shepherds were the fastest dogs and I would have to get over 25 mph to outrun them. Pitbulls, while particularly aggressive looking, would receive my taunting because they could barely run 15 mph. I had at first lodged my bike pump through the front of my bibs in case I was caught on a hill but later found I could just put the pump under the bungee cords for a quick samurai slap across the ridge of the dog’s nose. I would prefer to outrun the dog though since I would likely have to outrun an angry dog owner in a truck if they saw a man in tights knock his dog out with a stick. My approach to dogs is to make sure I don’t allow them to flank my front wheel so even if I end up turning in the other direction the dog won’t get across my front wheel.
There hasn’t been any wind in the past couple days, and it would be the same today. Temperatures would be just as extreme as the other days… I would be dependent on my own devices without the help of a tailwind and I would have to fight the heat yet again, hopefully there would be no mechanical failures today.
The trip proved to be a fast one, US-67 had a wide open shoulder on great asphalt and MO-72 is getting a facelift with fresh asphalt. While extremely hot, my overall average today was 16.5 mph. MO-72 would have been a treacherous route, the unmaintained pocked bridges between the fresh asphalt hinted at how my ride would have been.
I stopped at a gas station in Farmington where a cub scout group was offering car washes. Some street bikers were surprised to see me there, saying they had passed me back at Park Hills about 10 miles away. I had cruised through at about 23 mph on US-67 so I had made good time to the MO-72 turnoff. A scout had stopped to ask me about my bike and what I was doing. I explained I had nearly 3,000 miles behind me from Seattle and I was headed home to Charlotte. It took a moment to process in the child’s head and he began scratching it to speed up the process. After a bit more time he summarized his confusion to, “Do you have a car?” I said yes, in fact I have two. This perplexed him more, he wanted to discuss the mode of transportation more but his mother called from around the building to attend to his carwashing duties.
I think part of the difficulty of cycling as a sport and transportation in the US is adults see transportation as an evolution. First, you learn to walk, then you learn to ride a bicycle, and then you learn to drive. You don’t go backwards in this evolution. Once you have achieved driving Shangri-La, you must park as close as possible to any door you wish to pass such as the Walmart parking lot. The requirement for close parking proximity means you will have to wait a few minutes for someone to pack their car and leave. Anything to prevent you from additional primitive walking from a further parking space. Some brazen transportationists think fire lanes and handicap parking also help minimize the walking one would have to do. I applaud their ingenuity, may their blood pressure always be the highest in the land.
I skipped lunch today, and I think I will continue to do so since my knees feel better just trudging through the day with minimal breaks. At 40 miles left in the day I felt alive, the Mississippi River was one of the few mental barriers left to cross before I would be home. As I was riding I started to notice the large swaths of trees knocked over, at first I thought it was logging but a lot of the trees were snapped halfway up the trunk. I figured a tornado had carved out some destruction along the road. It went for miles, and I saw some unfortunate birdhouses that were twisted up in the wake of the tornado too.

I was also a couple hours ahead of schedule because of making a good average for the day. I arrived at Cyclewerx at 4:30, and was delighted to see such a good group of people working in a relaxed shop. They trued the wheel and fixed me up with some supplies. I decided to buy a floor pump since I was tired of fighting for 90 psi. I felt the extra weight would be worth getting 110 psi every day. The shop owner went the extra mile and searched in his inventory to try to find a smaller pump. He also offered a smaller portion of chamois butt’r when he didn’t have the singles. He also pulled up a map and suggested I take a different route which would take me on a ferry ride across the Mississippi. Perhaps another time. I talked with one of the employees about the racing scene in Missouri as well as the state tour. There seems to be an active cycling community in the state and I think the community as a whole is very gracious to folks pedaling on the road. They have a good thing going! Thanks to the Cyclewerx shop – visit them if you’re in town.
I was at the hotel by 6 and was reluctant to go to the Outback, it was the only thing nearby. There's nothing wrong with the food, I just don't agree with the concept. Heath at the Hampton was helpful and told me to go to the Drury Inn next door for laundry. I found a sullen female sitting on a luggage cart guarding the laundry door at the Drury. She introduced herself by saying she was handicapped. I offered my help if I could. She said she was fine. I tried to see if the washer was full but couldn’t get around her, she said it was taken. I said I would wait until she was finished with her laundry as I pulled out my laptop and commenced to work on the floor. She said she was going to be a while, I replied all I had was time and didn’t have a lot of choice in the laundry matter. After 10 minutes she mumbled something, stood up, walked into the laundry room and pulled out her clothes in the washer and put them in the dryer. She walked out of the room and as she passed she said the washer was open. I never saw her again. I stepped over the luggage cart and got started on the laundry. I thought it a little strange.
Calories today weren’t much as compared to other days. 2.5 gallons of Gatorade, a clif bar, 2 packs of M&Ms (my rolling lunch it seems), a 9oz tenderloin steak with scallops, crab stuffed shrimp app, stuffed potato, 2 loaves of bread, salad, and key lime pie.
Tomorrow I plan to head deep into Tennessee through Illinois and Kentucky. Not sure which town yet but probably Clarksville at 160 miles.

Day 19 Warsaw, MO to Saint James, MO 136.1 miles

The Ozarks are an amazing feature of Missouri, it feels like I ride along a ridge in the mountains with views over undulating treetops as far as the eye can see. I haven’t seen so many trees in weeks. In prior states like Montana, one could see more than 20 miles away to know when I would arrive at an approaching town. In Missouri, I would have to spot the town water tower, but sometimes it would not appear until the last 3 miles of the ride.
My plan for the day is to get to Meramec Spring Park southeast of Saint James, about 150 miles. It shouldn’t be as hot as in the prior week and I’d like to spend some time out of the hotels.
Highway 7 east of Warsaw is a narrow winding road and I was particularly wary of the traffic but they were very gracious and gave me a wide avenue to ride. I arrived in Osage Beach surprised to see it is such a tourist attraction. I was unaware it was so popular, I should have put the pieces together when I saw most of the vehicles on 7 had more than one passenger. The lake is gorgeous and looks like it has 20 years to grow before getting overcrowded like my native Lake Norman. Old time stores selling crafts and ramshackle bars still adorn the roadsides and RV parks have lakeside access, something our Charlotte area lakes are losing. I stopped at a diner for a burger and shake and the owner and I talked about the area and my route. He was impressed with my daily miles and lamented he wanted to attempt the same feat but life would always get in the way of his desires. I like diners and will choose to stop at a diner over other venues typically because I find they have a unique menu. I unfortunately don’t understand the nostalgia since I am only 28, however I like the concept.
I was wrong about the heat, it was in the upper 90s again by midday, and another 2.5 gallons of Gatorade met its demise this day. I sweat profusely and it soaks my bike, I almost slipped off my bars one time causing the bike to jerk into traffic. Fortunately this time there weren’t any sideview mirrors to catch my error.
About 80 miles into the ride my typical difficulty in changing gears finally came full circle and I could no longer change gears at all. The rear derailleur was also stuck in the hardest gear. I wasn’t upset this time, I was still rolling and it was just another part of the ride. The mole hills in Missouri did become mountains though, and grinding over some of them forced me to the roadside to figure out what was wrong. I couldn’t see anything obvious on the back and decided to screw down the upper limits on the derailleur so I could at least get the gear a little easier to pedal. There was no cell service where I was west of Vienna and I could not find any shade either. I had to get somewhere to call in for remote mechanic service from the Spirited Cyclist! I finally made it to a gas station in Vienna and was grateful for the buy one get one free offer for 32 oz Frost Gatorade. I bought 6 of them.
I called the Spirited Cyclist for help, I was convinced my shifter was dead since it seemed the gearing had walked all the way off of the cassette. They were quick to correct my thinking when they suggested I check the tension on the cable. It was loose and I then checked the cable housing attached to the shifter, it fell off… Well, I was glad to have an extra cable but I felt the immediate need for a 2nd cable in case I screwed up installing the new one. Picture an accountant crowding a little piece of shade on the side of a gas station building, bent over his bike laid on its side baking in the midday sun. The asphalt was becoming wet with sweat dripping from the body, a futile attempt to cool off in the oppressive heat. I had observed Brian back in Denver attempting to adjust my gearing so I tried to mimic the same movements by running the cable through the shifter and down and out the back to the rear derailleur. It did not shift very well based on this approach after trying to adjust the gearing. I had made a stand on the rear pannier and by propping my tent under the front fork to make the adjustments easier. Another call to The Spirited Cyclist made me quickly realize the need to push the shifter on the outermost gear for the cassette. I could have broke my only cable if I had continued my previous path of installation. I had also discovered frayed head of the previous cable was lodged in the shifter and I fished it out with needle nose pliers. I was finally fixed up and ready to go. During this time a couple passersby offered their help. David Anderson was a local and told me about how the RAAM had just recently passed through the same road I was on which prompted him to stop and check on me. He was curious because he thought RAAM participants were supported (they are) and wondered why I was carrying so much gear. We shared a laugh about it and I told him about another motorist who profusely congratulating me for my “coast to coast” tour and how he heard about it on the radio. I guess some of the locals around here thought I was just another loser days behind on the RAAM course.
I had to make a decision between changing course to get to Rolla or continue to Saint James. Rolla had a bike shop but was further west than I wanted to go. I had no additional shifter cables and I was still a little concerned about getting my rear wheel trued. I decided to make for the Cape Girardeau shop at the Illinois border via Saint James.
I had a mental break on US-64 north of Vichy when I saw a rather long climb in front of me. I screamed and yelled at the pavement, there should be no climbs in Missouri. It was 3 miles of uphill with a scenic view at the top. I cursed the scenery and wanted to be home…
I made it to Saint James as the sun was starting to go down, I would not be able to camp this evening because I lost an hour due to the broken shift cable. I crossed I-44 and stopped at Finn’s motel. This motel would be the last time I would stay at a mom and pop place. I think the south has a different style as opposed to the places I have stayed in the West and Midwest. I had to argue with the lady to get a nonsmoking ground floor room, I think innkeepers don’t want to get double rooms to a single person. She pretended not to understand my English and was insistent I could just leave my bike outside next to the office while I stayed in a room upstairs. I told her I would stay elsewhere and suddenly my lucid language cleared the musty office air. My room was nothing special as expected, however I had to unplug the TV because it turned itself on, the toilet ran which I was able to fix, the toilet seat was broken, the lampshades had a peculiar bleached design splashed over the top of the shade, and all the appliances were run off a single extension cord. My neighbor was toothless and also had an RV she lived in parked in the lot. I could not understand her English and it seemed she talked in my general direction but it could have been for own amusement to have a conversation with herself.
I decided Pizza Hut would be dinner for the evening, a place where I have not been for more than 20 years and I did not know what to expect. When I was in elementary school in Lexington NC they ran a promotion if you read 100 books you would get a free personal pizza. I remember getting a few of those pizzas. Tonight would be a medium supreme pizza with root beer. Nice folks in Saint James, a host town for the Tour of Missouri which would start on Labor Day.
I noticed an additional tan line this evening, I was getting a tan through my jersey which stopped at the ridges of the bibs so it looks like I have a white Y down my back.
Tomorrow is 160 miles to the Illinois border where I’ll stop at Cyclewerx in Cape Girardeau for repairs. I have to get there before the 6pm close so I have to leave early.

Home safe

Hey folks - wanted to let you know I arrived home yesterday safe and sound, Highway 73 is not the best road to ride during rush hour though! It usually takes me a couple hours to create and edit a post so I could not update as quickly as I would have liked these few days. The 100+ degree heat consumed my energy and there were a couple nights I would lay on the bed to stretch and go right to sleep. I will post the remaining days over the weekend.
Wishing everyone a happy and safe 4th with family and friends. If you're in the area, stop by the house, we'll pick you up dockside.
Just as a reminder, I created these posts as a reference for folks who are considering touring and wonder what it would take to complete their own journey. I used other blogs and journals as my own reference and I am now returning the favor. I encourage you to do the same and would like to hear about your adventures too.

Day 18 Lawrence, KS to Warsaw, MO 156.1 miles

Each day this week I get up is hard, I feel very sluggish. I took a second shower and readied for the day. 2 danishes and a bowl of Cheerios were had at the Quality Inn. I was off headed south at 8am on US-59 over more of the famous Kansas hills, it was later than I had wanted to leave the hotel. I was hoping to get a long day in to up the average miles and get closer to home. The Kansas wind sensed I was headed south so I was met with headwinds again. When I turned east on US-56 the winds came from the east. I felt like Kansas is the Hotel California line where I can check out but never leave.
A previous comment from Phillipsburg piqued my interest about Kansas, I felt Kansas was holding out on me in terms of seeing some of the back country. Last year’s Ride the Rockies in Colorado went over Cottonwood Pass which half of it was gravel road. I was told the gravel was to keep traffic down and prevent Aspen-like commercial activity in Crested Butte. So, I took off down some gravel roads south of Lawrence to see what I could find, it appeared they were a shortcut to Gardner too so it was a bigger bonus. The countryside was incredible, and a single picture couldn’t frame the entire scene. I wasn’t excited to have to do some mudbogging through parts of the road with skinny tires but I made it through ok. When I made it back on asphalt I made a note to never take the blacktop for granted.
I passed signs for the various historical trails such as the Sante Fe and the Oregon. I would have stopped for the historical markers but the urge to get to the Missouri line was stronger. There were some closed roads near the border which upped the mileage but it gave me an opportunity to see the suburbs of Kansas City. It looks the same as Charlotte where they’ve converted farmland into the million dollar houses built 8 feet from each other. A little further out there were the graded plots of land with overgrown weeds indicating the waning real estate market had hit KC’s farmlands. I rode the same farm roads with no shoulder to the dismay of the locals. I got one wave today, it came at 11am. I gave up on the waving gig. I got buzzed on US-71 in Missouri, it was the closest and most needless of the entire trip. And it was a pickup truck. I’m not in Kansas anymore.
It didn’t seem as hot today as it was yesterday, so I didn’t utilize the ice cycling AC method. Maybe tomorrow, or maybe I’m just getting used to the heat. At 4:30 it was 98, I saw another sign saying 109 but I doubt it. It was in Tightwad, Missouri, which I felt a privilege to pass through on my way through the Ozarks.
Missouri’s animals need education on crossing roads, or Missouri’s drivers have much better accuracy with their tires than other drivers. There are turtle shells and raccoons everywhere. I saw my first armadillo, but it was roadkill too.
I did not stop for lunch, I did not want to jinx the tailwind that started five miles into Missouri. That’s right, the Kansas wind blew from the east until I got into Missouri. Kansas did not want me to leave. Missouri’s wind followed me as I wound through US-71 and MO-7.
US-71 and highway 7 are fantastic strips of pavement, and with a tailwind 22 mph was the norm. I think I overexerted myself though. I arrived in Warsaw with some knee pains on both sides, dizzy, and the back-of-the-head tingling thing. I felt a little wild and unbalanced. The rashes on my knees grew larger through the day, and the tops of my hands still swell by the end of the day. I drank another 2 gallons of Gatorade and will probably walk down to the gas station in a bit for more.
I had another first. I have never been to a Sonic restaurant because I don’t go through drive-throughs, something that grew out of getting the wrong orders repeatedly from various restaurants and trying to eat everything in the car so it wouldn’t get cold. Eating in my car seems silly when a restaurant should provide tables. I’ll provide a little background: by the end of the day I look like someone took a bat to me, microwaved me, and then shook me up real good like a cat. I look a little crazy with bloodshot eyes and hair all muffed from 4 weeks of unchecked growth. So I walk into the area where the Sonic people do their work because I don’t know what the process is to order. I ask one of the employees and she points to the sign menu boards outside and says, “you push the button and say what you want”. That process seems a little silly when everyone is inside and I could just wait for my order. So I go outside to the menu board and examine it, decide what I want, and push the picture of the cheeseburger. Nothing happens. I push a little harder. Nothing. There’s a little green digital screen to the lower left with some analog buttons and a card reader so I try that, it talks about a Sonic card. I don’t know what that is and it is all the green screen wants. I look at the menu board to see if there are directions. There are none. I kind of stare at the menu board just a little while and wonder if I should just go up the street to the Subway. I kind of wanted the burger though, and I made it this far with Sonic, I thought I’d see it through. I walk back into the Sonic command station.
There was a lot of bustling from the 4 or 5 employees, it seemed busy. It’s quite an operation, they have something attached to their wrist that they swipe across something on the wall and it prints out a receipt. They have metal change machines attached around their waste and it hangs across their groin area like a chastity belt. I could not figure out how it worked. I asked again how to order, and this time it was a different employee who gave me mercy and allowed me to order on the spot. I observed more of the operations and was particularly curious about the metal change machine. I became self conscious staring at the young woman’s change machine and decided to go back outside. The food soon followed. I called Stephanie to check in and the day’s heat was starting to catch up to me. It was then I realized I was getting close to the South, one fly came to inspect my food, then two, then a dozen. Seeing that they weren’t going to get any of the food they commenced biting me instead. I left quickly. It was $9 for the meal with a milkshake, seems like a lot for fast food. It was good though.
Someone had asked if the wind/heat affects the speed of my riding. The wind does more so than the heat. In Kansas with the wind against me, I was going 10-13 mph on the flats. In Missouri I was going 22-25 mph on the flats with the wind behind me. Multiply my ride day by 10 hours and I did 156 miles instead of 123 like yesterday. I was also putzing around in Kansas today checking out the backcountry so I expect I could have cleared another 20 miles if I wasn’t so curious about what Kansas was hiding!
Today’s calories were the breakfast, 2 packs of M&Ms (my craving during the day now – they have a peanut butter strawberry flavor now but I prefer the dark chocolate which is hard to find), Sonic’s double cheeseburger, tater tots, a coke, and a pineapple shake.
I’m looking forward to sitting and doing nothing. I thought I would have more opportunity to do that, I should have planned better!
I have a craving for salty beach air…

Day 17 –Clay Center, KS to Lawrence, KS 123.0 miles

Watching Jon Stewart this evening is making me crave popcorn…
I did 123 miles today, the minimum required to make the 13 day journey home according to my route and Google. I was chased down by a tremendous storm and I was having such a great day I didn’t want to be a mile hog and get greedy. It’s a question my conscience answers for me during the latter part of the day, “Should I go? Am I getting greedy?” If the answer is yes, like trying to push to Manhattan yesterday, then I stop pedaling. If I’m feeling lucky like Google, I go for it. There has been very few times I’ve felt lucky, and in Wyoming it ended badly when I decided to go 150 miles without any way of repairing a flat tire. The innkeeper in Clay Center told me I was lucky to not attempt Manhattan because there was a rodeo/stampede going on and all the rooms would be booked. So it all works out again.
Supposedly there’s a 3% chance of getting hit from behind on a bicycle. I don’t use a rearview mirror because I don’t want to see death approach, and I expect some people might be encouraged to cut it close if they see I’m watching their driving skills. I met someone in Idaho who said he uses a rearview mirror so he can avoid a near hit. I would be preoccupied with everything behind me when I should be focused on what’s ahead of me. What really keeps drivers from killing cyclists when most deaths by vehicle aren’t pursued by the law? I ponder that during the day, especially on US-24 east of Topeka on a 70 mph stretch with a gravel soft shoulder. If I’m not too busy counting I’m usually thanking each of the passing drivers who let me live that day.
I headed out of town via Broughton Road, yet another beautiful stretch of Kansas unfolded before me with waving locals. I was curious to know when the locals would stop waving. It was Manhattan and Kansas State University. I was greeted by heckler #9 in a truck who wished I would not be on his road, from across the median. While I have counted the number of hecklers and buzzes since I started, I expect I may have missed a few due to the earbuds. All the better. So ends all the nice folks from the west/central Kansas area. Remember how everyone treated each other during the days following 9/11? That’s west/central Kansas all the time. Take a ride in one of the combines along the road, all you have to do is stop and ask.
In Manhattan there are trees everywhere, and the roads flattened out as I headed east. The corn stalks are at least 3 feet higher than their brothers in west Kansas. I assume it is due to the cold weather and rainfall differences. Everything in the fields are lush and green, the trees fill in the areas between the fields and along the knolls along the horizon. It reminds me of home. It’s something in the mind when I think “home” that sends a jolt of energy through the legs. I wore the jolts out pretty quickly.
I met a group of college students at a Subway/gas station from Baltimore who were on their way across the states in the name of cancer research, a perfect opportunity for me to tell them about 24 Hours of Booty and the Columbia MD event in September. I told them about the group 3 days ahead of them and I learned they were the “Illini” who copied the Baltimore students’ own cross country event and were also responsible for the student’s frequent denials for requests for food donations since they already gave food to the Illini. I have a feeling I’ll see some of them again.
By 10:30am it was 90 degrees. By 11:30 it was 93. I was miserable and wearing the skin off under my eyes from wiping them too much. I had to reapply the sunscreen several times because I wiped it off to clear the sweat from my eyes. I stopped a second time for the Gatorade fix, and I put one in my back jersey pocket. The cold against my spine was wonderful. An idea popped in my head and I would use it at the next Gator-fix. Along the way I stopped in the shade of a small town and a local asked where I came from. I couldn’t remember. I knew I started in Seattle and I was definitely still in Kansas. I was confused and a little concerned I couldn’t remember where I came from… We didn’t have a lively conversation… The patchiness of my skin was getting worse, and I noticed my hands were getting swollen.
By 1:30 it was 101. I stopped for the Gator-fix and this time bought a bag of ice. I dumped the ice into an empty Gatorade bottle and another water bottle. I put one in the back jersey pocket and one behind the zipper in the front of the jersey.
Pure joy.
I haven’t read this approach in other cyclist’s blogs and maybe everyone except me knew about it, but it’s more than psychological. I didn’t sweat as much and I actually felt good. The rest of the ride was easy. I discovered cycling AC.
As I type this out I notice my skin above my knees appears to form some kind of rash. I assume it is the heat. I don’t think there’s much I can do about it.
For folks wondering how my knees are holding up: I learned a little tidbit from the nurses at Ride the Rockies: 800 mg of Ibuprofen is an arthritis dose, so take 3 doses a day. I take just one in the morning and one at night and everything is great.
Life is good!
Today’s calories included 2.5 gallons of Gatorade, 2 bowls of Frosted flakes, a muffin, a bagel and cream cheese, a glass of orange juice, a foot long Subway meatball sub and a Coke to wash it down (in Kansas, where there’s a Pizza Hut there’s a Subway), 2 packs of M&Ms, 2 BBQ brisket and pork dinners with slaw and beans at a local BBQ hut in Lawrence with 3 Budweisers… I love watching Kansas storms. The one that rolled through this evening was orange, green, and blue along with the normal colors of a storm.
I’m staying at the Quality Inn for about $62. I’m washing my clothes and hanging out a bit since I made good time today. Reportedly there are coupons at the travel centers because another guest checked in for $40 when I was trying to get quarters from the front desk.
Tomorrow I’m headed deep into Missouri. I hope to end up in the Harry Truman State Park for some evening camping. The Baltimore students said Missouri was worse than Kansas in terms of heat and humidity. I’m going to try my AC method again to see if it really works or if it was just a fluke.

Day 16 –Phillipsburg, KS to Clay Center, KS 137.86 miles

I had intended to get to Manhattan, KS, but I think this was the toughest day of the 16 I’ve done. Temps were over 100, wind was varying from 10 to 20 mph out of the southeast, and the gnats were ever present. The weather channel hasn’t predicted the winds correctly in Kansas yet. The first few hours of the day were phenomenal, I was on highway 9 and saw the best of Kansas. It was a beautiful area that had rolling hills outlined with low leafy trees and pines. The road was fortunately flat though, so I had a good pace going. A sweet smell of grass permeated the area and everything seemed soft. Until about 11am when the winds came followed by searing heat. Then the rollers. And then *ping*! I blew a spoke. But I didn’t recognize it at first. I had heard spokes go before, but never on my own bike. I came to a quick stop forced by what I thought were the rear brakes jammed on the wheel. They were, as well as the wheel pressed against the lower chain stay (or whatever it’s called). The wheel had also popped out of the drop outs which gave me quite a scare out in the middle of Kansas nowhere. I thought to myself I had finally done it, I blew the rear axle or cracked the quick release for the rack. 2,300 miles and here I was with a bum rack and wheel. There wasn’t much hope for me now. Now for most folks who know my mechanical ability, you should be laughing by now. An accountant with little mechanical ability on the side of a deserted road littered with his belongings. Man versus bike… well, scared little tights wearing dude against a gnarly piece of unresponsive machinery. I talked to the wheel for a bit, but it didn’t say anything. I tried reseating the wheel when I noticed the floppy spoke. Hopefully that was it – and it was. I was back on the road with a slight wobble on the back… No attempt at truing for me, I already had my set of firsts – a blown spoke and installing a new one. Besides, I figure Manhattan would have an able mechanic when they opened the next morning. I think the spoke was blown due to the weight on the rack distributed unevenly and attempting to blast through the Kansas rollers by standing. So the prescription is: redistribution of weight to center, and no more standing. Let’s hope for the best…
The day wore on as well as the rollers. I spotted a Kansas rock slide and took a picture, it appeared dangerous. There should be a retaining wall.
The heat pressed through my skin, boiling the moisture underneath. I noticed my skin was getting patchy so I stopped in Downs for a bite to eat and a break from the heat. A foot long sub and 96 oz of Gatorade later, I was back on the road. That’s 3 quarts in one sitting people. I don’t know where it went. My usual rule of Gatorade purchase before was to buy what I needed plus one, so usually 96 oz of Gatorade (3 32 oz bottles). This time it was 192 oz purchased (1.5 gallons). Thanks for the 2 for $3 promotion!
I made it to Beloit before I had to stop again, this time 64 oz of Gatorade fell victim to my appetite. I also noticed a curious thing happening to my body. As I was sitting at the table in the gas station, I felt my eyes were rolling into the back of my head. I was losing control of the muscles in my eyes. I decided to stay a little longer and chat with the locals. It was 92 miles to Manhattan, and it was 3:30. It would be night riding again for me. One of the locals told me about a group of cyclists going cross country from the east, I didn’t see them though.
It was another hard 60 miles of rollers to Clay Center, I arrived at 7:30. If I were to push to Manhattan I would be in the dark at least until 10pm. I decided it would be safer to cut it short for the evening. I stayed at the Cedar Court Motel for another $40 or so. These small mom and pop places are starting to grow on me, they provide the same breakfast, towels, etc. And since they own the place, they take pride in it and protect it. This particular motel had a Mexican restaurant attached to it and I took advantage of their enchiladas and ice cream.
Y’all may wonder what I do during the day to keep me occupied, since cycling probably is more of the background of my waking hours. Today I watched the sweat pool in my sunglass lenses and I would see just how much I could gather up before dumping it out on to the top bar of the bike. Then I would ponder just how much salt had accumulated underneath. Sometimes I would count the minutes between cars. For less travelled roads like highway 7 there were as many as 6 minutes between cars I would see. Bored of counting minutes I would then thank my nose for its curvature and its ability to drain away the sweat, I would inevitably count the seconds between drips. I cheated sometimes by dipping my head… I would count the miles before the next town and figure my time of arrival. When I was in the northwest I would not do so much counting because I had a lot to see around me. In Kansas there were the same fields of grain all around me, but as I went further east the trees became more numerous. A welcome sign of a nearing east coast.
You know how your lower back sweats when you’re sitting in the sun and you’re wearing too much clothing? When the sun is over my back in the afternoon it makes the entire front of my body sweat. It is a tremendous wash of salt and keeps me occupied from getting it in my eyes.
So that’s how I spend my day in Kansas.
I was extremely tired again, and quickly went to sleep. I managed a little more than 2 gallons worth of Gatorade plus about 64 oz of water. Tomorrow I will head as far as I can get without worrying much about the average speed. I’m a little beat down so I’m not going to set a goal.

Day 15 –St Francis, KS to Phillipsburg, KS 137.91miles

Ow… this day reminded me of 100k charity rides in the Carolinas during August. The wind was no relief, and it blew directly from the east. It would just blow the hot asphalt air and all the gnats against me. I could tell the direction of the wind by where my skin was darkest from the gnats. I seemed to collect a lot of different species of insects, maybe I discovered a new one or two. The gnats were worse when the wind was weak, they would collect in a gnat cloud and then spray my body kamikaze style. In Kansas though, unlike the Carolinas, they don’t go for open areas of the body like the eyes, mouth, nose, etc. They keep to the arms, legs, and chest, which is nice. I’ll take the gnats over the 20 mph wind in the face. Unfortunately, Kansas will bless you with both several times over the course of the day.
I left the motel at 7:30 and didn’t have any wind until a couple hours later. I rode to Atwood and stopped at a local cafe with a painted mural of the late Dale Earnhardt on the window. Works for me! I had 2 helpings of mashed potatoes, roast beef, a roll, salad, corn, chicken sandwich, a couple glasses of water and coke… all for $15… Nice folks at “My Place”, although the waitstaff all wanted to be somewhere else more populated. They liked the principles of Kansas, but wanted everything else more urban areas provided. It was at this point I realized I was in Central time by the clock on the wall. Time didn’t matter much to the staff, as one didn’t know what I was talking about, “Central time”.

Everyone in Kansas waves at you. It's strange, the pickup trucks are friendlier than any other type of vehicle. Try waving at a truck in Carolina while on your bicycle and see what they'll fire back. I started experimenting with the traffic and it's true. The dirtier and truckier the vehicle, the friendlier. I gave a big wave to a passing Mercedez and I got nothing back

In Kansas, distance is measured by towns. If you’re going to Z town and you’re in W town, well then you have 2 towns to go through before you get to your destination. I had a few towns to pass in order to get to Phillipsburg. I looked up lodging in the town and found the Mark V motel had a good review so I headed there as directly as I could, over the continued rolling hills of Kansas. These rollers aren’t like the hiccups of Carolina where I can spin through it with the inertia from the prior downhill, they were 1 or 2 miles of 8%+ to throw me to my lowest gear. I grudged up and down them, my energy waning under the sun. I took a picture of a town sign with elevation of 3k, “No way” I thought, it feels like I’ve been going uphill for days.
Gatorade became a regular occurrence, I downed 192 oz over the day with about a gallon of water to chase. Subway received my business with a footlong club sub late in the day and I hit the bed with one bounce before I was asleep again. The heat sucks the life out of me. I am tired of hills. Kansas is not flat. I’ll say it again, Kansas is not flat.

Day 14 – Thornton, CO to St Francis, KS 194.13 miles

Phase II Denver to Charlotte
So it’s June 21st and I need to be home by July 3rd, a very tall order but doable. I’ll have 13 days to cover around 1600 miles, or at least 123 miles per day. I jettisoned all my heavy clothing, my sleeping pad, and other items to lighten the load. Since I don’t have a scale, I suspect I relieved my bike of around 10 lbs of extra gear.
Ever since Wyoming I’ve had shifting problems, each time it rains it gets worse. The shimano folks from the RTR tour recommended changing the cassette. I bought a new cassette and put on the new chain given to me by the good shimano folks. Brian and I messed with the gearing but it still didn’t work out, I guess I’ll have to limp 1,600 miles back home! Brian thinks it may be the shifter, it seems to have acquired an 11th click. I also bought some Continental touring tires at the RTR Continental booth ($50 each is a good deal) for the road home instead of the racing tires. Brian and I went up Lookout Mountain on Saturday and they seemed to ride through anything, a nice change from the jarring 4000s ($45 at RTR).
I said my goodbyes to the new McManus family and I got a little teary as I left, there were a lot of memories crammed into a short amount of time for them and me as well. Big thanks to them for letting me be the third wheel, I’m sure they’ll be glad for some normalcy soon.
The terrible storms that have pounded the Midwest have since passed, I’ll face very high temperatures all the way to the Appalachians. I had feared getting caught in an infamous Kansas storm, I think I have lucked out this time. I want to be in Kansas by the end of the day, which would be about 187 miles according to Google. Somehow I acquired another 7 miles to make 194. I took 120th out beyond DIA and then down to 88th for a while and then south again to US-36. The wind came from the south so there were some slow miles each time I turned into the wind. When I arrived on US-36 it was a welcome change, and the road was fantastic with wide shoulders and smooth pavement. I saw Porsches pass me intermittently on the highway which puzzled me but I finally found the source out in the middle of nowhere: there was a race (road) track where they were running the course as fast as they could. I think they were time trialing, there weren’t any clear winners.
After the track the road started to crumble and the rollers became steeper and steeper, where were the flatlands? From the air Kansas and East Colorado looks flat…
I happened across another cyclist named Noah who was on his way back home. He had an old RTR jersey on but he did not participate in the ride this year. It was his first attempt to do something like this, I explained to him the importance of chamois butt’r on long rides instead of using Gold Bond powder and how Endurox is quite helpful for recovery. I guess just a short 13 days to Denver had made me somewhat a veteran already. I’m sure I still have a lot to learn though!
It was hot, but at least it wasn’t raining. The wind was coming out of the south so it wasn’t completely at my back however it gave me a little boost. The rollers just wouldn’t stop, I thought I would average 20 mph on the flats but they never came. Instead it was the same 15 mph and I knew I would be ending the day in the dark.
I stopped in Anton at a grocery store just before it closed and bought some Gatorade, M&Ms, Pringles, and a prepackaged ham and cheese sandwich. Gone in no time. I was sitting at a picnic table by the store and shared my space with a local farming family (Horas). They told me about how the government pays them to not work the fields on a rotating basis. They also explained to me why all the towns I passed through seemed to be modern ghost towns with all the motels and restaurant/cafes boarded up. Since there were less fields to work, there were no transient workers around to keep the businesses busy. It was sad to see the towns like Cope Colorado where a once vibrant town now looked like a dilapidated post war East German town.
I caught a flat as the sun went down near Idalia. The front tire masked the flat I think for a few miles before I realized it. A staple had worked its way through the tire but it was a quick fix and a needed rest off the saddle. For all the folks who want to lose weight fast, try James’ workout model: Bike 13 hours in 90+ degree heat and have 2 bowls of cereal in the morning with the above lunch…
In eastern Colorado the sun goes down on the summer solstice at 8:30ish. By then the roads were terrible and I wasn’t excited to dodge potholes in the dark. I pushed through to Kansas in the dark and the roads immediately changed to perfect flat asphalt. It was a smooth ride to St Francis but the twinkling city lights in the distance never seemed to come fast enough. When it’s the only thing I had to look at, and the hills came and went, I was admittedly frustrated.
I arrived at the Dusty Farmer hotel, learned from some of the other guests to ring the doorbell for service, paid my $40, got in the room, and almost immediately fell asleep. The Asian innkeeper kept saying “You’re checking in so late!” It was only 10:30… so I thought. I wouldn’t learn until the next day that I was in Central time. Losing a precious hour again hurts!
In addition to the calories above I had a clif bar, banana, 96 oz of Gatorade, and about 260 oz of water…
Tomorrow I head east again to Phillipsburg, about 150 miles and hopefully with the wind at my back. It’ll be even hotter than today, but at least no rain!

RTR days placeholder

Hey folks - just a placeholder for the missing RTR days I'll edit when I have a chance, on to the trip home for now.

RTR Day 2 –Hotchkiss CO to Gunnison CO, 81.3 miles

I left around 7:30 am after cooking up some pancakes at the tent. I thought it was a good idea, but we had a half gallon of milk to finish so I probably drank too much of it. Out on the road I realized why I don’t drink a lot of milk since it is an inflammatory and would not do wonders for my knee. Here is a recent article on anti-inflammatory diets: http://www.velonews.com/article/92129/sports-nutritionist-monique-ryan-takes-a-look-at

There was a very long line for the luggage trucks this morning, I put my bag on the middle truck and guessed it would take about 5 hours to get me to Gunnison in 80 miles. While there weren’t any passes ahead, it was just mostly uphill.
The weather for the past two day’s riding has been perfect, chilly in the morning with mid 70s during the day. Put a cherry on top to make it a sun-day…
7:30 I assume is considered late in the RTR world, there were more warring cycling factions on the hillsides and it seemed the prior day’s battles had blasted more injuries through the ranks. The SAG wagons were full of bikes. For those who survived, there were spectacular views of Black Canyon and the river responsible for its creation below us. There were times I would ride in the middle of the road to ease my fear of going airborne. The mind plays funny tricks, I imagined myself getting launched on the descents when the front tire blew out. Rather fatalistic for such a beautiful day.
The day was much easier for me, I talked to some other folks and they claimed today was harder. I expect the elevation profile didn’t do all the climbing we did any justice.
I arrived in Gunnison just short of 12:30 as expected. I had a little help on the pulls with Mike, a gentleman aspiring to complete the Kentucky Iron Man in August. He also wants to qualify for Kona. He was modest and pulled his share of the load, people I like. Meanwhile behind us we had a wheelsucker for about 25 miles. I call them ghosts, they don’t talk during the ride but they make just enough noise to let you know they’re there, and never pull up front. To be fair, he did come by later at the campsite to chat about the various rides in the Colorado area.
So, 12:30 in Gunnison, and no luggage truck. It broke down on the road and wouldn’t arrive until 2:30. For folks unfamiliar with large supported tours like RTR, the positives of getting into town early are the lack of lines to the things you need, like a shower, clean toilets, food, etc. Without a bag, there would be no shower, which was the other dream I had along the way besides falling off the side of the mountain. Speaking of falling off mountains, I met someone later who had flipped over a guardrail along the way but fortunately there wasn’t a lot of open space between the rail and consequential ground.
Just as predicted, the bags arrived at 2:30 and I was peached. When the rest of the party arrived we bee-lined to the local brewery and had great hospitality. Sticking to my diet guns, I had a salad. It was paltry so I gave in a little to some of Jennifer’s nachos.
Uneventful night – I was to awake early and head to Salida to secure a very good camping spot in the courtyard of the school, a building with many shades. I woke at 1am to discover my travel pillow sprung a leak so my head was flat on the floor. 1am was a little early to head to Salida though…

RTR Day 1 – Glenwood Springs to Hotchkiss CO via McClure Pass, 98.7 miles

We skipped the Saturday Road Race on 6/13 and watched the Stanley Cup the night before. The RR was part of an omnium, Lance Armstrong and Levi Leipheimer participated in the time trial on Friday. He has been vacationing/training in Aspen for what seems like a couple weeks now. Before we left Glenwood he and Levi went over Independence Pass (our day 6 from Leadville to Aspen) and reported wind/hail/snow/ice/sleet, etc… so we have a lot to look forward to in a few days.
Brian and I started Ride the Rockies with the criterium in Glenwood Springs. It was a field of about 55 or 60. In Colorado there are only 4 categories of racers so there it looked like a lot of new folks in the race. One had put his number upside down, others on the wrong side. On the last 10 laps the officials hadn't cleared lapped riders who were getting in the way and who also tried to race the peloton to prevent another lapping (if that's the correct term). I stayed mostly in the back except for one lap which prompted one of the participants to ask if I had been lapped. I kind of expected this since I had a Ride the Rockies kit on and nothing denoting I was on a team. I said a flat "no" and continued. I finished with the pack of about 20, there wasn’t a lot motivating me since it didn’t count for anything anyhow, it was good to be in a race to see how the legs would hold up after 2 weeks of endurance cycling… Everything seemed fine.
We turned our attention to Hotchkiss around 9:45am, 80 miles away. We knew we would have a bad headwind based on the habit of the winds these past few weeks coming from the south. 20 miles in we were met with the wind furies but fortunately we picked up another strong person by the name of Evan in our streamline to make our ordeal a little less painful. The first rest stop was already picked clean of any food so we continued to the base of the mountain for McClure Pass. The climb was the first time in a while I hadn’t had 50 lbs to lug up with me, the ascent was double the normal loaded speed. It was a cycling relief of sorts since I was considering putting the rack on to carry cameras and other items. There were many folks on the route who elected the rack and I’m sure they have great pictures along the way.
The short 18 racing miles at 24.5 mph average earlier had taken its toll. My left hamstring seized up halfway up the mountain and I learned rather painfully through trial and error how to climb without using my hamstrings (point your toes down). I’ve never cramped like that before nor did I realize how much I used my hamstrings.
Leaving late gave me the opportunity to see more folks on the road, last year I typically left early so I’m on my own most of the way. On my way up McClure it looked like the aftermath of two warring cyclist colonies: bodies littered the roadways tending to their wounds and others were walking their machines up the roadside… the two pistons to drive them had obviously overheated… Hopefully there wasn’t anything too serious.
Personal SAG vehicles were also retrieving their wounded, which was a little obnoxious because it made getting around the rest stop at the top difficult. Oh well – it looked like people were having fun for the most part while killing themselves :)
The ride into Hotchkiss was uneventful, there was a roadside barrel wine tasting but it was too close to town so I didn’t stop. I think whenever I’m within 10 miles of “home” there’s not going to be a lot to keep me from getting there. My hamstrings, quads, and other muscles I couldn’t name continued to seize along the way, which probably made some of the other cyclists curious as to why I would pass them and then stop pedaling for a while until I could work out the kinks… they would pass me and a minute later I would pass them again. I was/am one of “those guys” that race to the next town in Ride the Rockies. Calories included the obligatory clif bar, a roadside peanut butter and jelly sandwich with cookie, a tentside paella with sausage and chicken, peanuts, and some Ben & Jerry’s ice crea

Spoke too soon on the body...

I wasn't able to get on the bike today - the tornadoes kept me at bay. I dropped my wife off at the airport at 3pm and I headed to REI for last minute items for RTR. We all went to the Gordon Biersch for dinner and I had the grilled ahi tuna and salad with a couple slices of Jennifer's pizza. Washed it down with a couple beers.

I woke up at 3 this morning with sharp stomach pains similar to what I had last week, uh oh... here we go again. Except the result was vomiting a couple times. WebMD wasn't much help, although I think my self diagnosis is obvious: Overeating, overexercise, NSAIDs, drinking alcohol, and the occasional raw fish = disaster.

Now I'm sitting here with an empty burning stomach waiting for the Walgreens to open...

Intermission June 5th - June 12th 2009

Sorry for the delay in the last few posts, it took a bit of time to collect myself and settle in to Denver. Just so folks know, I'm on a break until we head out to Glenwood Springs this Friday evening to prepare for a road race on Saturday morning. Then, Sunday morning we'll have a criterium and then hit the road for 80 miles on the first leg of Ride the Rockies 2009 (http://www.ridetherockies.com/). Let's hope for no wrecks in the races as I don't think I can patch my frame like I've done for my tubes.

I attended the wedding of McManus-Jennings on June 6th and the weather was beautiful. The next day there was hail and Stephanie and I watched a tornado pass near the newlywed's house. Afternoon tornadoes seem to be the norm in Colorado right now, I will be glad to get to the mountains soon on a supported ride without the rain.

I have not been on a bike since a 30 mile recovery ride on Friday to get accustomed to an unloaded bike. The chain and cassette is fine, they just needed readjustment. On the body check: I suffered a couple of days before purchasing some Immodium and it cleared me right up. My left knee was sore to the touch for a couple days and it wasn't until today that I could walk down a set of stairs without feeling it. My legs also burned after climbing the same set of stairs for a couple days as well. All in all, it took me about 5 days to get to "normal", tomorrow I plan to get on the bike for the first time since Friday tomorrow for some fine tuning and some practice in the corners since all I've done is time trial for 80% of the 1,500 miles.

Well, I drop my lovely wife off at the airport tomorrow, pack up and restock for RTR on Thursday, then off to the tour on Friday. Look for posts by the latest on Sunday to recap the races and first leg of RTR 2009.

Day 13 –Mile 228 Rest Area I-80, WY to Loveland, CO, 173.5 miles

Fog. I awoke late, around 6:30am. I had wanted to be on the road by 6 to guarantee my arrival in Colorado on time. I spoke with Brian the night before and he had class until 9pm so I had plenty of time to make my way deep into CO country. I collected my things and noticed I had a flat on the front. By now I was thankful that it wasn’t on the back since I wouldn’t have to take everything off the back to access the rear wheel. I rolled the bike over to the main building to change it in a warm room and noted that there was a lot of wire sticking through the tire. I surmised that the bits of tire shredded across the interstate highway were responsible. So, for all the interstate cyclists out there, the tire treads should be avoided at all cost.
Since I slept in my kit and was quick to change the tire, I was on the road by 7am. One of the visitors by car at the rest area was complaining to me about the visibility and how he didn’t feel safe on the road. He wanted the fog to clear before heading west. I was just prepared for more rain so I headed towards the interstate.
I was out of the fog by the first hill and into the sunshine and it was just 7 miles to the exit for US-287. The traffic on I-80 was unusually skewed to truck traffic, which is fine, they gave me a lot of room even though it was unnecessary. For every 1 car there must have been 5 trucks. The ratio also set the environment ripe for trucker bombs. They seemed to populate the tops of hills, I guess the trucker could concentrate more on personal matters when going slowly up a hill rather than cruising in other sections of the highway. I even saw a variant of the species in a zip lock bag. A methhead’s form of liquid gold I presume. Google “Trucker Bomb Meth” if you’re curious.
I exited for US-287 and headed towards Medicine Bow, my original stopping “happy point” yesterday evening. I made it about 500 feet down the road before an electronic sign indicated the road was closed due to flooding. What kind of flooding was it? Couldn’t I just walk my bike across? Knowing what I’ve encountered before, flooding in the west is a deluge compared to what I encounter in North Carolina and the road probably doesn’t exist anymore. Reluctantly I turned and headed back out on I-80 for another 80 or so miles to Laramie.
It wasn’t as bad as I thought. The roads were lovely except for the tire wire landmines. Traffic was light and no one seemed to mind my presence. I probably represent someone’s day on the interstate on another blog somewhere: “Check out this crazy cyclist on the interstate, is this legal?” I also wondered how long I would go before an inquisitive trooper would make a stop to ask why all the other roads in Wyoming weren’t of use to me. Fortunately, some road workers allayed my fears and also told me around 9pm last night the river flooded US-287 and took out the bridge. I’m glad I wasn’t on the road then despite my best desires to beat the rain last night!
The road to Laramie was uneventful and the weather was splendid. I did catch another flat on the rear due to the tire wire but I needed a rest anyways. I-80, when looking at a topography map, has a curious layout, the road is draped over the foothills of the Medicine Bow Mountains. I was constantly going up and down over the mountains where if the engineers placed the interstate just another couple miles north the road would have been mostly flat. It was as if Wyoming wanted to make it difficult for the truckers. Fortunately, the wind was at my back and I was in Laramie by 1pm. My arrival in Denver on time was looking very good. I stopped at McDonald’s to feed my illusions of cheeseburgers (something that develops at around the 100 mile mark) and also to check the weather since the typical storm clouds were brewing to the south.
US-287 rejoins I-80 at Laramie so I was back on the original track and ahead of schedule. It is 10 miles less on I-80 than US-287. I headed south knowing storms were strafing the area. The wind was a lovely 15-20 mph on my back and it was an effortless cruise at 20 mph. I was chasing the tail end of a storm so I wasn't pushing too hard. It was 23 miles to the CO border, a psychological barrier in my mind I think because for the next hour I was reminiscing of the past 2 week’s memories and events. Mt. Ranier, Yakima valley, US-12, Montana, Yellowstone, Teton, flat tires, etc… There was a nice little hill to crest before heading into Colorado, and the resulting downhill and wind into the lovely state of mind hurdled me at 45 mph for several miles. A lovely day!
Finally, in Colorful Colorado! But, as all good things come to an end, the wind changed direction and blew into my face. I could manage 15 mph downhill, which it seemed most of the road was downhill. I noticed a change in the scenery: trees… and smog. I could barely see the horizon. I was kind of sad, I had taken for granted the clear air of the previous states. It seemed the wind was blowing the dirt straight towards me. I felt like I had when I looked out of the window of an airplane, you can tell when you’re close to a major city when you start to enter the brown blanket that surrounds it 30 miles out.

Sage brush gave way to pink granite and sandstones while misty mountains resembling an Irish countryside bordered the western horizon.
Soapbox: US-287 around the Laporte area is awful – the wide shoulder is mauled by perpendicular rumblestrips that straddle the entire shoulder and sometimes even into the travel lane, forcing me out into a understandably very angry 70-80 mph traffic. It was a hairy ride after 120 miles on the legs.
I arrived in Fort Collins around 6pm, it was a sort of paradise with all the cycling lanes and the many people who were using them for commuting home or exercise. I headed down Shields Street soaking in the sun and thinking about a warm place to lounge… The Denver area has a curious layout, the houses seemed to crowd small areas penned in by fences like the tumbleweeds did in Wyoming while all around were wide open spaces. There weren’t a lot of trees to block the wind which came very strong from the south. The few trees that did exist bent easily against the force of the wind. Just like my will to pedal against it after 150 miles!
I made it to Loveland and I got the call from Brian, he would pick me up at exit 225 off of I-25. I didn’t really know where I was going once I got to the Denver area so I now had a destination. It was around 8:00, I had been on the bike for around 12 hours... I was picked up like a rag doll on the roadside, sitting in a car was surreal and all the pains of the road became noticeable. It seemed the wind dulled the pain while I was riding. We went to a bar with friends and it became difficult for me to be social. A couple weeks of riding and poor diet had finally ripped through my intestines and liquefied everything. The next few days would truly be recovery. Brian’s wedding is Saturday though so I would have to pull myself together.

Special thanks to all the truckers on the road who shared their interstate with me and didn't attempt to hit me with their infamous bombs.