tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55192898018036858642024-03-08T05:47:32.916-08:00Trans USA backroads 2010Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-58187579786415773652010-08-05T10:58:00.000-07:002010-08-05T10:59:12.570-07:00Signing off<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">8-5-10: Southeast of La Cross, Wisconsin in an Amtrak Superliner bound for Chicago. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Well, I this is it. In another 4 hours I’m be in the Chicago station with a 3-4 hr layover for my Clev bound train. Can’t say that this has been a blast on the train, especially at night – not like I remembered some 20 yrs ago when I could just snatch a bulkhead seat and then sleep on the floor at night. Not on this train anyway. The bulkhead seats are reserved for parities of two. So I had to do a regular seat. Now they’re much bigger than airline seats, but sleeping in them – forget it. Especially when the train was full last night and I had someone next to me. It was just torture plain and simple. I got in every contorted position possible, and maybe, just maybe snagged 3 or so hours of total sleep. I even imbibed in some of my aged bourbon whiskey to kind of help the effect of slumber, but to no avail.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So really, that totally sucked, the sleep part. But what was interesting was going through Montana and North Dakota yesterday and seeing the stretches of road I rode on, and even going through some of the towns that I had stopped over at – brought back a lot of good memories. As we jammed through Montana I just couldn’t help but think back to all those ass-kicking days in that state, and the miles of nothingness. I even heard people on the train comment on how vast and wide that place is. It’s like a wide screen cinema in front of you, and it just wraps around every part of your senses. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I ended up not doing the diner car last night – just too much BS with dinner reservations, and then you kind of have to eat when they want to fit you in. I could have gotten in at like 5 pm, but I was in no mood to eat that early. So I eventually went to the café car and got a sub and a ham sandwich, both of which were pretty lousy. Thankfully I had brought a small arsenal of food on board, in addition to my alcohol, so I didn’t need to order but that one meal for 2 straight days of training across the country. This stuff was like the junk you buy in a convenient food store and pop in the micro wave. So I also got a couple of beers at the café and then went back to eat. So that was my grand dining experience. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Also steered clear of the observation car due to the converging of humanity up there to the point to where it was just chaos. Felt much better in my little cocoon coach seat. Pulled out my “stash” around 10 PM and have a couple of small waterbottles of whiskey. Woke up this morning feeling like I was a participant of some kind of grad student sleep deprivation study – on day two. Just pathetic feeling all the way around. Did like a mini “marine shower” down in the handicapped bathroom where I did just enough to get my face, pits and arms and hands swabbed clean for the good morning call. Woke up just around Fargo, ND, and finally became human around St. Paul MN. Did some skyping and eating my breakfast bars from the food stash, and then went to the café for some coffee. At least the coffee is quality!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>We crossed the Mississippi River from Minnesota into Wisconsin, and I’ll tell you, that river is massive. I remember when I crossed it way the hell up in Northern MN, and it was just about the size of a creek. On the train, back there at the border, seemed like a mile wide! Train just now stopped at Tomah, WI, and I’m kind of running out of stuff here to say. I’m tired. My ass is some sort of sore from sitting. And I’m way to anxious to get the hell done with this all. The time is right to end. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I just want to thank everyone for checking out the blogsite and sending me words of encouragement every now and then. I always felt like you were this invisible companion out there with me. This has been a dynamite trip, and I feel really lucky to have had the opportunity to do it. So until next year, whatever that endeavor that will be, I’m going to sign out for 2010 and say: All the best; have a great year; and………..I’m OUT!............Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-8369365300031065342010-08-04T13:29:00.001-07:002010-08-04T13:29:35.121-07:00Blogging on a Real Train<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">8-4-10: Whitefish, Montana up to West Glacier, Montana in an Amtrak Superliner <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Yea, I’ve been pretty lax in the blogging for the last couple of days. And with good reason, I mean seriously, other than doing an adventure - where life on the road can be funny, crazy, scary, the whole gamut - my regular life is pretty mundane, so I find it kind of laughable to think that it’s necessary to just “blog” my little “non-adventure” nothings and ramblings onto the net on a daily basis and believe that people are going to wait with baited breath to read such gibberish. So maybe like two more blogs to go then I’m going to pull the plug and get back to my day to day existace.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Spent the last two days in downtown Seattle, up in the Capital Hill district at my sister’s friend Duane’s appt. Duane was one heck of a great sport hosting me for 3.5 days. He has cats, and a couple of them are pretty skittish, so I was hoping I wouldn’t have the “Gladden” curse on them as my sister had a year or so back, where Duane eventually had to take one of the cats in to the vet due to a “bashful bladder” episode. Luckily, the cat felt more at home pissing in the litter box with me there than my sister! That made me feel good – take that Kim. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now Duane has a great location, being just about 1.5 miles up above the downtown area. And his view out of the living room window is to die for, let alone one the roof where we hung out a couple of times and just knocked back a few brews and watched the sun set over the Sound. Saturday we strolled downtown and checked out the market place and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>scoped some places to eat. Ended up going back to that Vietnamese place where I had the massive spring rolls….then to this pretty tasty Indian restaurant. And that was pretty much the story of my stay there – walk around a bit (and leave the appt for a bit so Mr. Blue, the kitty with the bashful bladder, could have some piece and quiet so he could take a leak), eat, walk, eat, walk, and on and on. Have to say that I’d eaten more Vietnamese food in that 3-day stint in Seattle than all the combined Vietnamese sittings in various parts of the world. I was just STUCK on the Vietnamese food thing! Just love their soups – hearty, massive, spicy and filling. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>It’s just been glorious to NOT have to ride for the past several days, yet I was still waking at around 5:30 each and every morning while at Duane’s appt. That’s still my rhythm of life, and I hope this train ride breaks the rhythm what with trying to sleep in a seat for 3 nights in a row. Boarded this #8 Empire Builder Amtrak Superliner yesterday at around 5:30 PM for the 2-day trip to Chicago. I had cooked some food for this trip at Duane’s appt. – fried chicken, chicken strips – and then purchased some additional items such as jerky, sport bars, trail mix ……..and a great big bottle of chocolate stout and a pint bottle of prime aged bourbon whiskey. Now alchohol is not allowed to be brought on board unless you have a sleeper car. Guess they figure that if you’re paying a thousand bucks to do a sleeper you deserve not to have to pay six bucks of a one shot mixed drink or four bucks for a bottle of beer. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>But hell, you know me – scofflaw that I am – I’m bringing my own private stock by God! So anyway, we got rolling after a one hour delay and got my seat. Now the seating situation on Amtrak has changed since the last time I rode this – about 20 years ago I went 15 thousand miles all across the US. And back then you could just get any seat you wanted, and I always went for the bulkhead seats due to them having tons of extra room. Well, on this train, and it’s probably the way they do things now, they put up “reserved for parties of two” signs all over the coach, and the bulkheads were prime party of two areas. I laid out my Bob yak bag on the floor in front of me because it contained my food and drink, than and my computer where right alongside my seat. The ride goes along the very Rt 2 that I had ridden, and it was so much fun watching that road from a different perspective – especially seeing that the wind was blowing hard out of the west. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>The train went north out of Seattle, right past where I finished the trip at the beach and lighthouse, and then veered to the right to go easy up to the Steven’s Pass area in the Cascades. I was a fantastic run up into the Cascades as we went over the Skykomish river numerous times on the climb up to the pass. That’s about the time I cracked open my chocolate stout – ahhhhhh, fantastic even slightly warm. Had some chicken and trail mix for dinner out of my bag. Which leads me to the next rambling: eating on Amtrak. Well, eating on Amtrak is analogous to eating in an airport – freaking stupid expensive. The meals in the dining car are fun, kind relaxing, and a neat experience, and I’ll likely have ONE dinner in the dining car out of the 3-day trip. But they’re portioned just a smidge bigger than airline meals, and they’re just too much money – like 13 bucks for pasta dishes and 18 bucks for meat dishes. They also have 10 dollar breakfasts and lunches, along with a café car where they sell sandwiches, small pizzas, beer, wine, pop, coffee etc. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I brought enough food to last me all the way to Chicago allowing for just one diner car dinner. Anyway, after my chicken and trail mix dinner, it was starting to get dark and that was my chance to pop the top on my finely aged bourbon whiskey, and pour some into one of my strategically placed water bottles – ahhhhhhhh, wonderful! Just sipped whiskey as we climbed up over and then descended the Cascades. That was it, and the next 8 hours was positioning myself in like every crazy sleeping position possible on the two coach chairs I’m in – so far no one has decided to sit by me so I have two seats. I mean I was twisted up like a freaking pretzel at times trying to sleep. Had my camp pillow and an Amtrak pillow. I did sleep but it was about a 2 on a scale of 1-10, with one being just total shit! Woke at my customary 5:30 AM – Mountain Time Zone – and ate more chicken and trail mix, this time for breakfast. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Oh, get this, and this happened yesterday evening. I took my shoes off to relax in the seat, and I guess my socks and feet kind of stunk, I mean really stunk. And I had a foot on the very back of the armrest of the seat in front of me. Like it was nowhere near the lady’s arm in front of me. And in a bit this lady turns around and looks at me and holds her nose and says: “could you please move your foot, it smells!” And I’m like, “wooooooow, sure, no problem.” My feet seemed to smell like my feet do after having climbing shoes on for about two hours – stinky as all hell. I had specifically taken a shower just before I left for the train, because I knew I wouldn’t have a shower for 2-3 days. And I was kind of freaked, because all of a sudden I could really smell them. So I changed socks fast for the second time in a day - and then grabbed and took a whiff of my shoes – holy *&%&$^$#%^#<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>- they were the main culprit, just absolutely horrible! And those shoes were right under this lady’s seat. I quickly got a plastic bag out of my yak bag and tied the shoes up – suffocating that rancid, rotten shoe smell. That did the trick and now I only take those stink bombs out of the bag when I need to hit the head or go get some coffee in the café car. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So we’re heading into West Glacier National Park right now, and there’s good old Rt 2 right out the window to my right. Feels fantastic to see that road from here, from a different perspective. Now I tried to use my air card on the train, but most areas are just totally blank with bars. I had to wait until we got to Whitefish to plug in, where I thought there’d be cell service, and then I quickly got on line and sent and received my emails – still pretty slowly. As soon as we got like 5 miles out of Whitefish the signal was gone. I’m hoping to send this blog out when we get to West Glacier where I think there will be some cell towers. If not I’ll have to wait until Browning, Montana or a bigger place that has cell service. Right now looks like a cloudy, overcast day out in the Montana Rockies. It’s funny, I’ve been on the train for like 16 hours. On my bike going west, that stretch had taken me about 7-8 days to complete.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m really looking forward to getting on to the Great Plains and watching that gnarly stretch just flash by. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Well, that’s about it. I’ll do like one more blog from the train and then that will be it for this year on my blogging. Look forward to getting home and seeing everyone. All the best……..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-89979547971146960922010-08-01T09:27:00.001-07:002010-08-01T09:27:40.210-07:00Postscript day 1<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">8-1-10: Seattle, Washington: Noah’s Bagel Shop, Broadway Ave. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Well, just sitting here at 7:35 AM on a lazy Sunday morning in Seattle having a nice strong coffee, some sesame seed bagels and a spinach and egg panini. Damn does it feel good, for the second day in a row to not to pull on those dank cycling shorts, prep gear, and get on the bike and ride. Ending feels so glorious. Looking back on it all feels so amazing. But I know though that as the weeks start to pass, and August turns into September, and September gives way to October, be damned if I won’t start longing for those care-free days on the road again. I guess it’s in my blood – that wonderlust thing. Something about new places and new faces each and every day that just heightens and exaggerates the joy of being alive. Some days it’s like a spike in the arm the buzz is so great. But today, nope, today is part of that period of time for reflection on the adventure. You can’t be on the high forever! So I sit here in Seattle with a kind of post-adventure hangover.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">It’s funny how everything involved in an adventure kind of goes together to make the whole experience so wonderful – the pre-trip preparation with the anticipation, planning and the nervousness; the actual trip itself where you go through a roller coaster of emotions for weeks and months on end, with good days, bad days, great days and stellar days; and then there’s the end, where, as you get closer and closer to the terminal point you ready yourself to be finished, both mentally and physically; and then when you’re done you can just sit down and let those memories replay like a endless film loop over and over again in<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>your mind. It all seems to fit together so perfectly and seamlessly. And it’s this whole experience, the pre, during, and post, that stirs the soul for yet more and more adventures. So you probably think I’m leading into the next adventure…..no, not really. And that’s the big question I’m asked now that I’m finished: “What’s next?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Honestly, I just want to savor this trip and these memories and experiences before I just let go of them in search of yet another adrenaline buzz down the road. Yea, for sure I have all these crazy ideas that constantly run through my head, and some rank right up there as real potential candidates, but for right now I’m quite content to let this trip’s imagery play and replay in my mind. The Canadian adventure and now my US adventure, they’ve kind of renewed my thirst for adventure, the thirst I had back when I was in college. Then, some thirty years ago, I’d spend countless hours up on the tenth floor of the Kent State Library pouring through old books and memoirs of famous adventurers like Alexander McKenzie and Lewis and Clark, just marveling at their grit, determination, persistence and thirst for adventure as they explored yet unexplored hinterlands of North America. I envied their experiences, and eventually developed what at that time I called my “hit list” of the trips I wanted to do in life. Today it’s called the Bucket List. Well, I still have my “Bucket List,” and it’s a faded piece of notebook paper that I keep in my top desk drawer. Up until last year, when Ryan and I decided to do the Canadian adventure, I hadn’t looked at that list for over twenty years. But just prior to, and since the Canadian Adventure, I’ve checked that list out numerous times. I’ve checked off yet another item having just finished my trip across the US. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Heck, and the crazy thing is that despite the fact that I still have many items left on the original list, be damned of I couldn’t, right now, ADD more items to that bloody list! To me, doing stuff like this is life changing, and very magical. And it all feeds on itself. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Examining this trip as compared to last year’s Canadian cycling adventure, I’d really have to say this was much more difficult, that because of two things – doing it solo and doing it from east to west. First the solo aspect: Soloing is something that I love and hate. I love soloing because it forces me to deal with myself on a full-time basis. You have to be comfortable with yourself to have to deal with yourself being alone so much – sometimes you’re your best companion! I really dig that, because it’s so bloody challenging. I can only depend on me each and every day. I talk to myself, think to myself, argue with myself like Tom Hanks did in the movie “Stranded”, and sometimes I think I’m going insane. I go through a gamut of emotions on an hourly and daily basis. I really believe that soloing makes you a stronger person, both mentally and physically.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">But there also a part of soloing that I hate, and that’s the lonely part, the part where you cannot share the experiences with anyone at the end of the day. No taking and rehashing, no sense of kinship, no bonding, no brotherhood and sisterhood stuff in the solo. It’s something that cannot be shared. It’s a selfish endeavor. And no matter what I tell you, explain to you, show you with pictures, you’ll just not “get it” like I did. Take my “Billion Dollar Day” in the blog, the second to last day of the trip where Barney joined me. THAT is sharing an experience. That day, that moment, that ride – he get’s it! And I was privileged to be able to share that day with a friend and fellow adventurer like Barney. Sharing that experience heightened the moment, and eventually the day – and the trip!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">The second aspect of this trip VS last year’s Canadian trip was of coarse the fact that I did it from east to west, bucking all traditional conventions. Going east to west was going counter to the prevailing winds, the same winds that sent Ryan and I across Canada on 120-150 miles days with tailwinds that were just beyond amazing. Yup, there were days where we’d average over 20 mph for nearly 100 miles due to the westerlies – and that was with our pulling some 85 pounds of gear. On this trip, I think the very, VERY best day I had I averaged about 16 mph, and that was with a tailwind. Most of the time my average was in the 10-12 mph range, with some sort of headwind each and every day. And what I lucked out on by not having the super tough Rocky Mountain climbing this year that I had last year, well, I gained the toughness factor back x 100 in the headwinds I took on each and every day. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Now I wasn’t stupid, and totally knew what I was getting into when I decided to ride east to west. But for the life of me, I’d done west to east – I just had to try east to west for the challenge of those winds, those same winds that sent me into a state of crazy back in ’09 at times crossing Canada. I think when I had headwinds back in ’09, I was pissed just because I expected the prevailing to ALWAYS be out of the west – “that was our right by God!” Well, not really, but I can only surmise. So this time, I fully expected the winds to we out of the west each and every day. And that was so tough, especially from a mental standpoint, getting up each morning and wondering just how hard the wind was going to be blowing against me, all day long, mile after mile. Go through the blog and look, from about Minnesota onward, the winds were just ferocious. And as I worked my way out of the forests of Minnesota and into the treeless Great Plains, those winds became exponentially tougher – nowhere to hide on the plains!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">I remember at a stop in Ray, North Dakota, where I was talking to a couple of locals, and the guy told me: “you think the winds are bad here, wait till you get into Montana!” And he was right. Montana broke me and crushed me like a bug being hit by a semi truck. Montana forced me to dig into places I haven’t dug into for over 11 years – ever since I stopped racing. Montana made my legs hurt so bad that I think they just never recovered from the effort of 450 miles of pain in the plains. Montana was like this foe that I so respected I was humbled by it. Montana forced me to develop gameplans that I’d never done before when doing cross-country bike trips. But Montana gave me the biggest sense of accomplishment once I left her border. Montana made me a strong man!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">So there it is – ramblings of a mad man. I really do look forward to coming back to Ohio to see my friends and family. Despite all the places I’ve seen and experienced, I still have the invisible bond to my roots, to my home. I’m anxious to get back and rejoin the real world again, so anxious that I was kind of bummed out when I could not get an Amtrak ticket to start home any earlier than this Tuesday afternoon. Believe it or not, Amtrak was booked solid thru this Monday, that or I had a choice of coming back on Monday in a thousand dollar sleep car …….ah no on that one! So I’m here in Seattle until Tuesday at 4:40 PM, when I board a train and actually retrace over 1500 miles of my trip, but on a train. There were numerous times when I was out there riding and I saw the Amtrak train going by me east or west. So I’m just totally looking forward to seeing those same old stretches of road, but from a train. No headwinds. No sore ass. No watching the miles slowly tick by. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Now it’s not exactly a BUMMER, that I’m kind of stuck here in Seattle for another 2.5 days. It’s a beautiful city with just a ton of stuff to do, so I’ll not be bored. I’m going to walk around the city and shoot pics, eat at some new types of restaurants (I ate at two Vietnamese restaurants last night – more on that later), and just savor this awesome place. As I said, last night I just had to try some different dining options – no Subway, no buffet! So the first place I hit up was a Vietnamese soup restaurant, and it was just crazy good. I had no clue, here, other than the fact that I’d dined Vietnamese many years ago when Judy and I were in Ottawa. And the soups were off the charts good. So I looked at a menu that I just didn’t have a clue, and ended up ordering this rice noodle soup with brisket & and “tendon.” Yup, tendon, the chewy, crunchy stuff! And they had like 4 different sizes: small, medium, large, and XL. What did the foodaholic do” Yea, XL! And dude brings me this bucket of soup which could have fed a small Vietnamese family.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Haven’t used chopsticks and oriental soup spoon for years, and with no silverware on the table I wasn’t about to be Joe Tourista and ask for them. So I muddled by with the sticks and spoon. The soup was just awesome, and though I must have looked like a really rookie using those chopsticks, I was still able to get the noodles in my mouth. I left feeling pretty satiated, but yet wanted just one more “taster” for the evening, so I went to another Vietnamese place just up the street. This place had regular dishes in addition to the soups. So I ordered up the Vietnamese spring rolls and a charred pork and noodle dish. Again, the spring rolls were more like sushi, a wrap with rice and shrimp with a peanut dipping sauce. The pork dish was atop a heaping helping of rice noodles. Another homerun. I was just stuffed when I walked out of there. On the way back I stopped at this awesome grocery and picked up a Ben & Jerry’s for myself and for Duane, who was back at the Appt. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Earlier in the day, Barney and I had come here to this bagel shop for breakfast, and then we walked down to REI so I could buy yet another duffle bag for shipping gear home. Must have spent 2 hours in the place mulling about, and then watching kids climbing on this 6-story indoor climbing monolith. Walked back and then helped Barney load his SUV for his trip back to Vancouver. Got to tell you that Barney is just a fantastic guy, and I wish you could all meet him. I get this feeling that we’re like long lost brothers, him being my older brother, and me being the impetuous young pup. He’s an amazing guy, and I was blown away by the fact that he took the time and energy and money to come down here to Washington and ride me in to the finish. THAT meant more to me than I can convey to you! So the time came for us each going our own ways, and as usual we did a firm handshake and the dude hug thing, and then Barney hopped in his car drove away down Boyleston St and off to I-5 north to Vancouver. Thank you again Barney!!!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US">Well, that’s enough for the day, a day where I didn’t even ride a lick and yet I’ve been typing away for far too long. Been here two hours now sipping coffee and tapping away at this computer. I’ve got to get on to some work - enough blogtime. Talk to you tomorrow from Seattle………Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-64551031327093369602010-07-31T06:41:00.000-07:002010-07-31T06:42:40.640-07:00Finishing the trip in Everett, Washington<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-30-10 Day 55: Gold Bar, Washington to<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Everett, Washington: 39 miles in 2:23. Rt 2 west to Everett Ave to Broadway Ave to Mukilteo Blvd to Mukilteo Speedway Rd.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">The journey is complete – Houlton, Maine to Everett, Washington, 4012 miles across the United States, crossing Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Montana, Idaho and Washington. I’m feeling a great sense of accomplishment and finality to the journey. More on that later.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">First to bring you up to speed on the rest of last evening. Now I’d be fibbing if I were to tell you that I didn’t get “shnookered” last evening drinking five bottles of Black Butte Porter prior to going downstairs to eat, that after devouring about 2 pounds of cherries. Barney had some Hop Czar beers and the both of us watched this crazy show on the tube about knuckleheads doing crazy stunts on bikes and skateboards and such as I was finishing up the blog. Then it was downstairs to this little restaurant for dinner. And let me tell you, this was just the best. Now I’m not taking like 5-star restaurant thing, being all fancy and posh. Nope, just the opposite. This was a mom and pop place with a hometown atmosphere and a friendly, jovial waitress slinging grub!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Menu looked really interesting, but it ended up the we both got the very same dinner – Chicken Fried Steak. Yea, you’ll all probably rolling your eyes at that. But I’m telling you, there was just something about the restaurant and the atmosphere that told us to order the Chicken Fried Steak – like a voice from God or something…..”Order the Chicken Fried Steak with all the delicious, fattening gravy, and the scrumptious home made mashed potatoes …..order it and you will be happy cyclists.” Well, we must have both heard that voice because that’s indeed what we did. I also threw in an order of onion rings. And when those plates arrived and we dug into that thick, rich gravy – ahhhhh we were in another dimension! That was sooooooo good that I literally spooned up every last spackle of gravy from the plate. Barney enjoyed a glass of wine while we just talked life, our bucket lists and anything else that kind of flickered through our minds on the end of such a marvelous day. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Then I convinced Barney to walk over to the grocery to quench our – MY – sugar Jones. Got inside and right in the entry isle was a display of sugary treats – Eclairs! “Got to have those,” I thought to myself. So with that treat ingrained in my mind I wandered over to the ice cream isle and picked up a Ben & Jerry’s New York Style Fudge. Barney meanwhile was eyeing these “dessert wines.” Now I’d never heard of a dessert wine, my being more of a suds-aholic, so this stuff was like totally foreign to me. Well, he snagged it, and it was just this thin little bottle in like a paper casing. And on the way out I snagged the éclairs to go with the ice cream. Well, we got back, Barney opened that wine and I’ll BD, that stuff was sweet and alchoholly, really good! Perfect with the ice cream and the éclairs. And those éclairs were SUPER for being bought in a grocery – A-1.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I ate way more than Barney, finishing probably ¾ of the ice cream. And that bottle of wine was gone in like a flash. We finally settled down to watching the 2010 Giro De Italia on Versus – and we both literally ended up being knocked out on the beds snoring by 11 PM. I woke up all grogged out and Barney was just sawing logs like a lumberjack in the adjacent bed. Off went the TV and lights and that was a wrap for the day – a most memorable day indeed!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got up at a casual 6 AM on this, the finial ride of the trip, and tapped out some blog while Barney was still sawing logs – and yes the man is a human chain saw when it comes to snoring. Once he rousted we went downstairs for a breakfast, and be damned if they didn’t have the chicken fried steak of the breakfast menu. DONE! Barney just was amazed that I went for the same freaking thing for breakfast as I had just had for dinner the previous night. But to me, that dish was just gastronomic heaven! Got two eggs and toast with it and life was good. We packed up and were on the road by about 9:15 AM, probably the latest start I’ve had in over a month – but who cares, I just had to ride 39 miles. The morning was cool, and fog enshrouded and off we went down Rt 2 west to the town of Monroe to dump my yak and panniers in Barney’s SUV. That ride took us exactly an hour. We checked into the Monroe Visitor’s Center for some route information to Everett, to kind of find a good end point for this trip, because hell, this was no “Cape Spear” like the last trip. On the Canada trip that was THE absolute end game. Here, I had no real designated place to call the end – I just wanted to make it to the Washington coast. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">So we got a good map of the city of Everett and picked out a nice section of the coast where there were several parks and beaches. Picked a spot along a road called Mukilteo where there was a lighthouse and beach, and bingo bango, done. Then took off all the junk off mand stowed it in Barney’s vehicle and off I went to meet up with Barney in Everett at the intersection of Everett Ave and Broadway Ave. Ten min in I had to strip off my long sleeve Underarmor and leg warmers as the sun had finally broken through the thick fog. The ride was another pretty easy section that, now naked, I could just zing down at nearly 20 mph. The traffic was just thick as hell, but luckily I had this bomber berm to ride where there was no hassles from the vehicles. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Barney stopped a couple times along the way to take some pics and sag behind me. Round about an hour in I could see the downtown of Everett – and feel the crisp, refreshing scent of the ocean. The end was near. But I had one more obstacle, and it was like a carbon copy of our last day or riding in Newfoundland, where we had to get on a section of “restricted” highway, meaning no bikes allowed, to get to our destination. Yup, Rt 2 had a sign posted about 2 miles outside of the city that said: Motor Vehicles only! And it was there that the road really turned into freeway entrance ramps for I-5, which goes into Seattle and Vancouver. My berm narrowed down to about 2 feet wide and it was like this massive stretch of elevated interstate leading right into downtown Everett. And there was no getting around any other way, I mean I had to traverse this intercoastal marsh and a river up on the elevated highway. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">It was just so close that I said to myself, *&^&^$# it, I’m going for it. What’s an officer going to do, tell me to throw my bike in his car?” “It’s just two miles.” So I just clicked down three gears and hammered it on this thin, crappy section of berm into Everett, on the very final two miles of Route 2, a road I’d been on since Ignace, Michigan up in the UP. I rode like my life depended on it hoping to make it through there without a policeman spotting me. And I did, right past the I-5 entrance ramps and into the city of Everett. I rode over to Everett Ave and that’s when Barney caught up to me. Then it was on to Broadway Ave, and finally Mukilteo Blvd, which was to snake it’s way down to and then along the coastline of the Sound. We had a bit of trouble finding that road due to recent construction, but finally got situated. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">This pup was not easy, as it had some pretty stiff little ups and downs. Thankfully they felt pretty easy with me not having a yak to drag. Made it to two parks, but both had no, or very limited access to the water. As we were in one of these little community parks I asked a lady parked in a car where the parks were where we could go to a beach area. She gave me directions for a place three miles down the blvd, and off we went again, with my climbing and descending these rollers. The road finally dropped right down to the water at a ferry crossing for Whidby Island where there was a lighthouse and beach area. THAT was the endpoint – looked good, had all the elements for taking some finish pics. DONE. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">The beach by that time, just after 11 AM was just packed with people. Was as if it were a Sunday afternoon down there on a Friday morning. The parking areas were darned near full. We got Barney parked and then I rode to the beach gravel, and then walked the bike down to the water, putting a front wheel in the Sound. And that was it – trip complete! We shook hands and then …….time for a beer and lunch. Ended up going to this awesome little micro brew pub that makes their sandwiches by bring you out this hot slab of rock, supposedly at a temp of 700 degrees, where you cook your sandwich meat on the rock, yourself, at the table. Pretty cool little gig actually. We each ordered our beer and then got the same sandwich – the sliced prime rib with beer dipping sauce – awesome! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Next up – on to Seattle to the REI store for a bike case and a duffle bag. And let me tell you, you think that traffic is bad back in little old Ohio…..hell, from Everett to Seattle it must have taken us 1 hour in bumper to bumper on I-5 south, around noon time to boot! And the distance is only like 20-22 miles. Got to REI and I was going to buy a Thule bike case, but coming back on Amtrak, they have weight stipulations on luggage – 50 pounds max – and the weight of that case and my 29’er was way over 50 pounds. So I talked it over with the folks at REI’s bike dept, and they suggest that I just use a regular cardboard bike box. And these were awesome people, as they gave me the box, the tape, the bubble wrap, and directed up to drive Barney’s car into their shipped dept bay where we could tear down the bike and gear and pack at our leisure. Between tearing apart the bike, yak, and all the gear, that took us 3 hours. But we got it done, even with the help of REI’s mechanics having to use a 2-foot long pedal wrench to break loose my clipless pedals. Great folks there. I bought a duffle for the broken down yak and even more gear and we got everything loaded in Barney’s SUV, and next up – finding my sister’s friend Duane in Seattle for our place to stay. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">That was a breeze as he lives just 6-9 blocks from REI. Duane was kind enough to let Barney sack out for the night on the floor, and let me hang for a couple of days as I get my Amtrak stuff taken care of. He has this breathtaking view of the city from his living room window – I mean it’s like spectacular. So got all our gear up in Duane’s appt, and then we all went to a local restaurant just a block or two away for dinner and drinks. Had some great meals and just kind of relaxed. Couldn’t help but get the guys in the mood ……by taking them into going to a grocery for some Ben & Jerry’s ice cream for our night cap. We each got our own pint and then went back to Duane’s place, and up to the rooftop to eat ice cream, drink a beer, and look up on this fantastic night cityscape. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US">The day was done. Mission accomplished. Man, it feels Soooooooooo good to be finished! I just love doing stuff like this, but there always has to be an end point, something to think about once in a while, a goal, a place, the final destination after all the effort. That’s what makes these journey’s so satisfying – the end. Well, this is it. I’m going to sign off for the day, but tomorrow I’ll put up my …….kind of post trip synopsis. And I’ll blog for my journey back to Ohio on Amtrak. But once I reach Cleveland, that’s it for another season. So anyway, talk to you tomorrow from beautiful Seattle, Washington…..cheers…….pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-74709454892110509322010-07-29T19:11:00.000-07:002010-07-29T19:12:10.945-07:00The......Billion Dollar Ride<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-29-10 Day 54: Wenatchee, Wahington to Gold Bar, Washington: 95 miles in 7:31 hours all on Rt. 2 west.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">THIS was the best day of the trip. It was like the Grand Finale of the cross country journey. But first let’s drift back to last night. Barney and I walked into the Wenatchee Downtown District to search out a good local pub/restaurant. Walked about 2 miles south and did indeed come to a really neat little downtown, with old style buildings and motif. We were sent to a place called McGlinn’s, and it was definitely a great place. Barney got the home made pizza and I got a chicken burger with the taste of the west. Our beers were micro brews that were awesome. We chowed in a big way and ripped through several mugs of suds. As we were at the bar the storms rolled in, and I mean they were just gully washers, with the rain coming in horizontally at times. We managed to time it right and walk back to the Motel 6 in a window of no rain. That’s about when my sugar Jones kicked in and we ended up going to this pie restaurant for some home made pie and ice cream. I got 2 slices and Barney one, and each of us got a scoop of ice cream. I feel kind of like a bad boy encouraging Barney to eat like a freaking hog like I’ve been doing.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Back to the motel and then the rain returned with this just amazing lightning and thunder storm going on through 10 PM. It was still storming like crazy when we hit the hay. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got up around 5:30 AM, and we readied our gear to hit the road. Decided to skip breakfast there, and ride up to Leavenworth and then stop for breakfast. So the plan in place, and off we went. And it was a climb up as soon as we left the Wenatchee city limits, and that’s about the time Barney dropped my sorry ass up the non stop series of rollers stair-stepping up into the mountains to the west. From the get-go you could see the snow covered Cascade range from outside of Wenatchee. It was just amazing to see this because to me this meant that that was my final barrier to getting to the west coast. The day was just stellar, with just the perfect starting temp – somewhere in the mid to upper 60’s. I was tank top from the start. Now you could tell that the day in Wenatchee was going to be a scorcher, and we were riding the heck out of that and into the cool, crisp mountains. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Barney waited for me a couple of times as we worked our way up to Leavenworth, which as it turned out, was like about 20 miles or more from Wenatchee – we had it figured at about 12 miles. So just a little more time in the saddle to work up an appetite. Made it to Leavenworth in about 1:45 hrs, and it’s a wonderful, charismatic little town, looking like a some hamlet tucked way up in the the Austrian Alps. Just a very cool place. It was surrounded by all these high, snow covered peaks, and just had character oozing in every direction. Barney got the dope on the best breakfast place and there we went. I opted for a coronary clogging delight – biscuits and gravy, eggs and sausage – I needed something heavy to get me over 40 miles of climbing. Barney at least opted for some cakes and eggs and bacon. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Got our coffee Jones to finish off breakfast and then off we went – for the amazing 40-mile climb up to Stevens pass. Yup, 40 miles of climbing up to this pass, and hell, we’d already climbed about 18 miles up to Leavenworth, so add 40 more to that…….and well, you do the math. I mean the day couldn’t have been any more perfect – cloudless blue skies, light breeze out of the west, cool, crisp mountain air, on bikes climbing up the Cascade Range, and we’re totally surrounded by these amazing mountain peaks. The pitch of the highway was quite low at this point, being somewhere in the 2-3% range, and it was not bad at all. Got me thinking that hell, this day was going to be a breeze if the climbing was all like that. Barney was point man riding strong and easy up front. I’d draft off of him on occasion. Stopped numerous times to snap pics, so I drifted a bit back for a while. And the climb just went on and on and on with this marvelous false flat into the mountains. There were points where we were ticking off the miles at like 13-14 mph, and then others where the pitched bumped up a bit and dropped us down into the 9 mph area. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">About 1:30 hrs after leaving Leavenworth we hit a sign that said that Stevens Pass was just 19 more miles, so I was pretty jazzed to have completed the first half of the climb in under 2 hours – we had figured that we may average 10 mph for 4 hours to complete the climb, so we were well ahead of schedule. Got me thinking, “shit it just can’t be this easy.” And it wasn’t! Right after that sign things changed, at least for me, in a very big way. Yep, the pitch increased to like 4-5%, and I’ll tell you, it felt like much more than that, and that’s when we really started to gain elevation. Up to that point I’d done all the climbing in the middle ring. But we were getting into sections where I was in my easiest gear in the middle ring and starting to feel the effort – big time. Barney…..he went up those pitches seated and just left me in the dust, riding like he was on a mission. I was out of the saddle trying to keep a rhythm and stay away from that damned little cookie. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Finally got to a point to where I was just hanging my arse off of the end of the saddle cranking in that middle cookie, and I said to myself, “ok dude, time to suck it up and drop into the little cookie.” And with that I relinquished and dropped down to the mini. Damn that felt good, just spinning away at like 5-6 mph. So Barney was gone by then and it was just me, the mountains, the beautiful day, the second to last day of cycling across the United States. Life was good no matter how tough the climbing could get. I was just in a state of ecstasy doing this ride. So bring it on! About this time I started looking at on occasional mile marker to get a handle on how far we’d gone on the climb – that and the time. By three hours into the climb I was just amazed we’d been climbing so long. Never had I done just one climb that lasted this long. This was just off the charts amazing!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Now I was plodding along just getting into the moment when I saw a sign that said that the road gets steeper, and I’m like, “damn, I’m already in the little cookie.” And the road sure as heck steeped out again and I was in my easiest gear, in and out of the saddle. It was appropriate though, this being the very last mountain range to climb before the finish, that I get throttled just a tad by the mountains. So it was just the breeze, the mountains, my breathing and my pedaling up, up, up. Now there was a point where I was really starting to think that I was close to the pass. I mean the elevations were going up by like 400-600 feet every 20-30 minutes and the last elev. sign I saw was 3800 feet. Add to that the fact that it looked as if I was about to kind of go across this little saddle between two really high peaks. So I just kept it going in and out of the saddle. Then I saw these cars parked on the side of the road and people mulling about several hundred yards ahead of me. That was it, because there off to the right was Barney standing and taking pics of me coming to the top of the pass. Damn that felt good – about 3.5 hours of non-stop climb up the mountain. We hit the top and got some water from a couple of folks<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>who were headed east in their car. There were no services up there, and this gentleman offered up some ice cold water to Barney and I when I had asked him if there was anywhere around where we could fill up our bottles. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">After getting our water fill, we just sat on some concrete barriers and ate our lunch – beef jerky, gorp, and a couple of sweet and salty bars. Man I’ll tell you, I was worked on those last 19 miles of climbing. Felt so good to sit on that concrete barrier and hand my sore arse over one end and just relax. We were up there for about 30 min. And we talked about having gotten there so early, why not just bypass Skykomish, where we were going to camp for the day, and just ride all the way back down to the town of Monroe where Barney had parked his car yesterday. DONE. We were going to go for the full Magilla. Barney said that it was just a descent for 40 miles. So might as well go for it. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Got back on the bikes for this BALZ descent down the west side, where the pitch was crazy steep, and the mph was going well over 35 with us hitting the brakes on a regular basis, but the crazy thing was that once we got going down on the west side, the wind had picked up to this just nasty gusting and blowing. I really had to grip the bars a bit more than normal, and this really started to pump up my forearms after about 30 min of straight descending. I mean we were jamming down the mountain, with these guardrails on our right, protecting us from taking multi-hundred foot screamers down the mountain if we screwed up. I’d look off to the right and like a thousand feet below I’d see the road and these tiny things moving – cars! So we were each shaking out our hands and arms on occasion to get the muscles limbered back up again to grip the bars. So we just had this steep section where we descended about 6-8 solid miles and lost like 2000 feet of elevation. Then it settled out a bit, and that’s when the gusting wind really affected us. I mean we had this big time headwind in our faces, and you could look over at the trees and see the branches and leaves just bending to the east with the force of the wind. It was definitely slowing us down in a huge way. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">We’d hit little sections where the road kind of flattened out, or conversely, where the road just pitched up a tad, and what with the headwind, it was as if we were right back there climbing up the mountain, except that we were DESCENDING! So our decision to ride all the way to Monroe, that was beginning to look like a pretty tough cookie to complete with the wind. We passed Skykomish and just kept it rolling down. And when the pitch was fairly steep, it felt ….just ok. But when the pitch settled down, wow, that wind really put a damper on our descending efforts. Round about this time both Barney and I started to get the bonk going on. Me, I was starting to get the shakes. And with that I knew that I had to get some sugar in me asap. Barney stopped to knock down a gel or two. I told him I had to ride on to find a place to get a coke and candy or cookies. So I kept going. About 2 miles further I just had to stop and get some of my emergency stash – a couple of strawberry yogurt energy bars. Munched them down like they were my only meal in days. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Barney joined back up with me and we kept it going, with me still wanting to find a place for a coke – the proverbial heroin spike in my veins for riding. And we found it just a few more miles down the road, in the hamlet of Baring. Stopped at a little place that was post office/diner/general store/hardware store. Got a Pepsi and this coconut, chocolate chip thingy which Barney and I split. THAT was the ticket. We chatted for a bit with the two ladies there about our trip. I asked about the distanced to Monroe, and they told me it was about 30 miles away – a bit too far for me to make, as we were already at about 81 miles for the day. She suggested staying in the town of Gold Bar, about 13 miles away, where there’s a little motel, a restaurant, and a grocery store. So we decided that Gold Bar it was for the day’s destination. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Did that last 13 miles with a bit more energy from all the sugar I ingested in Baring. I pulled a bit and Barney pulled a bit. About a mile outside of Gold Bar Barney pulled into this little stand where a lady was selling cherries. Barney bought probably 5-7 pounds of them!! And again, off we went, into the town of Gold Bar about 1.5 miles down the road. We got a motel, actually a really laid out place with a full kitchenette - really awesome place. Ended up with about 95 miles of riding in 7:30 hours of saddle time. Damn what a day. This was the penultimate day of the trip – great scenery, amazing weather, awesome friend to ride with, a journey that is just 39 miles away from being completed. All the elements were there to make this so very memorable. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US">We got settled in, got some micro brews, skyped our ladies, and we’re just sitting here veging and waiting for me to finish this blog so we can go downstairs to eat dinner at the restaurant. This is a very cool little town, surrounded by mountains and river. Great place, great day. Tomorrow is a casual day. No early start. No big day in the saddle. No more tomorrow. The trips ends in 39 miles. Time to go eat dinner. Talk to you tomorrow from the Pacific Ocean…..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-32117373858030188032010-07-28T14:25:00.000-07:002010-07-28T14:26:07.241-07:00Welcome Barney<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-28-10 Day 53: Ephrata, Washington to Wenatchee, Wahington: 50 miles in 3:31 hours northwest on Rt 28 to Rt. 2 west. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Well gang. Almost there. One teeny, tiny little mountain range called the Cascades, and then it’s a dash to the ocean. Been a long haul man, a real long haul doing the majority of this thing solo and fighting headwinds on and off for the past 4000 miles. I’m looking back fondly at the hard days I endured to get to this point. Heck I kind of had this moment in my head way back in Maine, but I just couldn’t even attempt to conjure it up for more than a few seconds. No, you really just have to have the goals set from smallest onward: Goal for the hour; goal for the day; goal for the week; goal for the month; and then the overall goal – the end of the journey. And son of a gun, I’m like 2 rides away.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>No I have to come to the confessional right now with respect to yesterday. You see I ate at Subway around 12 noon, and then went to Safeway and got a Ben & Jerry’s New York Style Fudge. THAT was a lot of food! Ok, so fast forward to yesterday evening. What did I do? Went back to Subway and got two more foot longs, and be damned if I didn’t eat 1.5 of the two. So I ended up with like 3.5 sub sandwiches in my stomach. Then, to add insult to injury, I needed a sugar fix, but was too lazy to go back out for something, so I got a fork and just ate peanut butter right out of the plastic jar. I feel so ashamed of myself…….not really! I swear, the less you ride doing a trip like this, the more time you have to just eat all day. Well, that was the case for yesterday. Then, to top it all off, I got on the net and map quested Wenatchee to see if there was a Subways close by the cheapie motels, and I hit a gold mine – a Chinese buffet. It was centrally located in the city, so I got the address and saved it for when I pulled into town to kind of line up the lodging with the Chinese buffet. Pretty sick isn’t it?<span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">So today….Well, it was the same old same old for the morning and my usual routine – except that I had .5 of a Subway sub to add to the bananas and yogurts. Got on the road at like 5:45, despite the fact that I had just 45-50 miles to ride today. But the forecast was for super hot and mildly humid out, so I just wanted to get the riding out of the way before the heat machine was turned on high. Pulled out of Ephrata with the temp at 68 degrees, and I was in the tank top mode from the get-go. Had what seemed to be a nice little cross tailwind out of the southeast. Got into Quincy at about 15 mph average and was feeling ok. But then I started doing this climb, and it was steep at first and then kind of leveled off, but was a false, false flat. I mean I was looking at my mph and it was just killer to hold 10 mph, and I’m looking down at my tires to see if I flatted. NOPE. Looked behind me and I could see this ever so subtle false flat. Ok, shifted up a gear or two and just spun, and this thing went on forever. The only good thing was that I could see, way off to the northwest, the snow covered Cascade range. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">After some 3-4 miles of this gradual false flat I finally kind of topped out, but I topped out on nothing. Wasn’t like I was at the top of anything, and there ahead of me was a steep descent sign, you know the one with the icon of the steep slope and the truck going down it. And I was looking around thinking, “what the hell, not as if I just climbed a steep pitch here.” “Why in the heck is there a steep descent sign here?” Well, I rode on for about 200 yards and then I saw it…..this massive descent, long and sweeping that had to be 3-4 miles long, taking you all the way down to the Columbia River. It was mind blowing to look at this thing. Shot a few pics at the top and then down I went, and it was just wild, totally out of control, and I had to feather the brakes just so I could stay in an “under 40 mph” mode. Get going any faster on a bike loaded down like mine and if you get into something bad, like chuck holes, rocks, junk on the berm, you’re just going to fast to react safely and then it could be ……BAD. So I stayed at a good speed and just descended and descended. Descended so long that when I finally did have to pedal my legs felt like I’d been sitting around doing nothing for 10 min. They were stiff and unresponsive. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Well, I needed those puppies to perk up fast, because I had a series of rollers to get over once the big descent ended. But I still wasn’t right down on the Columbia, nope, it was down in a gorge and several hundred feet further down. Now by this time the temp had climbed up to the low 80’s, and add to that just a hint of humidity, so the heat machine was definitely on it’s way up. I’d hit sections, because I was now riding in a northwesterly direction, where I was shaded by the canyon walls, and the temp difference was just amazing – felt great. So I was climbing small grades, and then descending even more for a bit, ever so slowly working my way down to the waterline of the Columbia. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Got to one section where there was a warning sign about super strong crosswinds, and it even had a wind directional down at the base to let you see how hard the wind was blowing and from what direction it was blowing from. Well I hit that area and like out of nowhere, and I mean from nowhere, the wind just cut into me like a gale as a headwind. Was as if someone had just turned on a giant wind tunnel. Well, it had something to do with the wind funneling down into this canyon at a specific point to be super concentrated. And it was, for about 3 miles with me struggling to maintain 10 mph, and I thought that I’d be just creeping into Wenatchee with a headwind like that. But be darned if the road didn’t kind of turn back to a westerly direction and the wind was darned near gone. It was just beautiful down there riding along the mighty Columbia, but a big dam just south of the town of Rock Island kind of put a damper on the wild river thing. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">From Rock Island up to Wenatchee it was like cycling through the desert, very much similar to riding in the Flaming Gorge area in the US – hot, hot, hot! The foothill mountains were just blank and hot looking, with just a smidge of trees here and there. For the most part this place with just an inferno along the deep blue Columbia. That wind never really quit, it just softened out a good bit, but it was still blowing in my face. I just plodded along knowing that I really had a mellow ride for the day, not some killer 80-miler in the wind and heat. Finally looked at a mile marker and it read 4, meaning I had four more miles on Rt 28 to get to the jcn with East Wenatchee – totally doable no matter how hot it had become and how tired I was (telling you, I’m just totally beat down right now, fully functional on my bike of course, but I’m really spent with respect to the legs – they’re hosed!). Made it to East Wenatchee, and then crossed the Columbia River on a bridge and rode another 2 miles through town and bingo bango, I was in Wenatchee. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Scouted out the street where the Buffet was on which is Wenatchee Avenue, and then got a motel – got a motel for two people! Yup, Barney is on his way, or maybe even at the Wenatchee bus station as I write this. He will ride with me for the last two days of the journey, and I’m really looking forward to hooking back up with this guy – he’s one hell of a good traveling bud. Now there were a couple of cheesy places here as far as efficiencies go, but with Barney coming I thought I’d get something in the middle, not a 8x10 prison cubicle with a frige and microwave with a bed, so I went to Motel 6 and snagged a good sized room that would accommodate the both of us and our bikes. Problem was that it was just 9:30 AM and the dude did not have anything ready to move into on the first floor at that time. Said I could have something on the second floor, or wait till noon or one pm for a first floor room. Second floor it will be! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Got my gear in and got my computer going and found a message from Barney’s wife, Val, telling me that Barney had gotten up at 4 AM and was on his way. So I skyped him and he was just getting into the town of Monroe, Washington where he was going to catch a bus into Wenatchee with his bike on board. Done! Went to my little Chinese buffet and just went crazy. Another great buffet. I’ll spare Barney the buffet routine this eve, so I just really put the feed bag on and went to town this afternoon. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">So that’s about it. I’m kind of hanging here waiting for Barney to arrive – got some beer in the refrig – and enjoying the AC. It’s just a purgatory out there right now, although I see clouds moving in from the south as I look out the window. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Barney thinks we can make Skykomish tomorrow – a 70-mile ride – and then do an easy Friday ride by descending down to the coast. We’ll likely be camping up in the mountains tomorrow in Skykomish, so I may not have internet access, and thus no posting of the blog that day. So if nothing’s up, that’s probably the reason. Anyway, almost to the end here. I did check out Amtrak, and it looks pretty good from the perspective that I can take all my junk on board and not get charged anything extra – well, save for a $5.00 charge for a bike box. Yup, five bucks to ship the bike with me! So I’m leaning heavily on doing Amtrak back home. The neat thing here, not accounting for the fact that I just love trains (I used to hop trains when I was a kid – sorry mom and dad), is that I’ll be traveling along some of the very roads I cycled along. That I think is very cool, to look out at what I’d just ridden for 1500 miles.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US">Well, Barney just made it here and we sat around and BS’ed for a good hour, with a few beers of course. He’s putting his bike together right now. Going to be a very awesome two days to the finish. More to come tomorrow. Cheers all……..Pete </span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-28810312380084347072010-07-27T14:13:00.000-07:002010-07-27T14:21:28.495-07:00Spared from the heat<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-27-10 Day 52: Wilbur, Washington to Ephrata: 60 miles in 4:01 hours west on Rt. 2 to south on Rt 17 to west on Rt 28. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Man, I’m just really beat right now. Think it’s just part and parcel of riding cross country and going at it day after day. I think I had like 4 off days for the trip, and I’m starting to feel it. Thanks goodness these last few days are just mini-rides and not gonzo rides.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So did my usual breakfast thing with yogurt and bananas and got on the road at about 6:15 AM. Hell, I knew it was just going to be a 60-mile day, but I’m always waking up at 5 AM now, so I saw no use in just sitting around and twiddling my thumbs. Plus the weather folks out of Spokane were forecasting a front moving in from the south from Oregon that had the potential for some isolated storms later today. So, I got it rolling knowing that it would be a short ride into Ephrata, with an ETA of like 10 AM! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got going and it felt much better than when I got up. The wind was light and out of the …EAST…..nice one there. This first section of Rt 2 west out of Wilbur was just rolling and rolling and rolling. With nice little hills and swales. The terrain was more of the farmland type as I’d experienced in the Great Plains. Off to the south, sure enough I could see the front moving in ever so slowly. Now the temp this morn was pretty sweet considering it damned near hit 100 yesterday, and that they were forecasting the same for today. But with the blanket of cloudcover moving in, the sun just wasn’t able to penetrate like it did yesterday, at least making it appear cooler out. Rode with the long sleeved jersey for about an hour, and then it was tank top time. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Made it through a couple of tiny towns and then arched southwest towards the the next big town – Coulee City. I hit a nice, fairly flat stretch and just jammed to Coulee City in no time. Made it there from Wilbur in like 1:45 hrs. Now I wanted to take somewhat of a detour from Rt 2 today and get away from just the desert and Great Plains type topography, so I opted to go on Rt 17 south through this monster gorge that was formed from a gargantuan flood eons ago. This rather than just ride west on Rt 2 to the town of Waterville where there are limited amenities. Plus, by going south through the gorge, I’d only have to do a 60-mile ride today and a 47-mile ride tomorrow, and be able to have my stopover in the town of Ephrata, which has a lot of stuff compared to most of these towns along the way. So 17 south I went, and it was just spectacular. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>On the opposite side of the Grand Coulee and south of the Dry Falls dam, is this three and a half mile-long scalloped precipice known as Dry Falls. It’s supposed to be ten times the size Niagra Falls, and thought to be the greatest known waterfall that ever existed. Geologists speculate that during the last ice age epic flooding channeled water at 65 miles per hour through the Upper Grand Coulee and over this 400-foot rock face. At that time, it’s estimated that the flow of the falls was ten times the current flow of all the rivers in the world combined. According to the Visitor’s Center, nearly twenty thousand years ago, as glaciers moved south, one ice sheet plugged the </span><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Helvetica">Clark Fork </span><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">of the Columbia River, which kept water from being drained from Montana. Consequently, a significant portion of western Montana flooded, forming a gigantic lake, Lake Missoula. Eventually, enough pressure accumulated on the </span><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Helvetica">ice dam </span><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">that it gave way. Geologists believe that this process of ice-damming of the Clark Fork, refilling of Lake Missoula and subsequent cataclysmic flooding happened dozens of times over the years of the last Ice Age.</span><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Helvetica"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Helvetica"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I checked this Dry Falls out from the Visitor’s Center and it was just amazing to think of water cascading over it. And the gorge below was just wild looking. I rode down into the gorge for about a 2-3 mile descent, down to Park Lake, Blue Lake and Lenore Lake. There were places on the sides of the gorge where you could see the flood residue cemented together, these giant boulders and cobbles that formed giant sand bars of sorts, but this wasn’t sand, it was stuff as big as tables and basketballs and cars. Above that are these basalt cliffs with vertical columns of basalt just as I’d seen in Iceland. Matter of fact it looked just like a couple of the river valleys I passed on my cycling trip around Iceland – topography and terrain was almost identical. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Helvetica"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Really happy I took this deviation, though it will add about 10 more miles on to my trip west – big deal there hah? The road undulated up and down along the string of lakes up alongside the basalt walls. Now just about 4 miles from the town of Soap Lake, about where the gorge was opening up back to plains, I started getting bitten by these horse flys, and damn they were viscous. Got a bite on the shoulder, back, hip…..ass! I mean I thought I was going to be in the hurt locker with these things for the remaining 10-12 miles. But as soon as I got away from the water the flies were gone. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Helvetica"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Outside of Soap Lake I got on Rt 28 east and headed back towards Wenatchee and my destination, Ephrata. This was a nice flat stretch with a slight southwesterly headwind, but at that point I was just 10 miles away and couldn’t care less. Made it into Ephrata in just about 4 hours for 60 miles. Not a bad average for a day where I was just feeling tired and beat down. Got a little place on the west end of town – two blocks from a Subway. The cloud cover had set in by then and the temp was no where near what was predicted. Almost looks like it could rain for a bit. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Helvetica"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So looks like a go to meet up with Barney tomorrow in Wenatchee. Then we’ll cycle across the Cascades to Everett for the finish. Looking forward to seeing Barney after nearly a year. So that’s it. Was a short one today, and even shorter tomorrow. I’m pretty beat and tired but really happy that my goal of coast to coast is just over the final mountain range. That’s a wrap for the day…….Pete<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-26529147272405907192010-07-26T14:46:00.000-07:002010-07-26T14:49:14.538-07:00Cycling through the Washington inferno day 1<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-26-10 Day 51: Spokane, Washington to Wilbur, Washington: 70 miles in 4:40 hours all on Rt. 2 West.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Knew this was gong to be a hot trek across the Washington “Badlands”, so I had talked with Barney last night and pushed our meeting time to Wednesday due to the long distances I’d have to cover Today and tomorrow to get to Wenatchee on Tues. So we settled on Wed, which actually worked out better for him. Me to, hell I just have to do 3 60-70 mile rides through this freaking purgatory instead of 90-mile rides for two days in a row.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I asked politely at the Comfort Inn reception desk if they could let me eat my free breakfast at 5:30 rather than 6 AM as is stated in the hotel. This so I could get on the road at 6 AM. Heck, I had a free breakfast coming, and that I did not want to miss. Got to get my money’s worth when I’m splurging! And they were just totally cool with letting me in a half hour early. So I got in the breakfast room and chatted with the gal who puts out all the grub. Nice lady and she was more than accommodating with my early arrival, and when I told her I was riding west across the desert to Seattle on a cross country trip, she just flipped, telling me that that was crazy to ride through Eastern Washington on days like today. I assured her that I would be fine, and that this is why I was eating early so that I could stop before the heat of the day set in. Then she started asking me a host of questions about my riding cross country, the first of which was “what is your cause?” I’m getting this like every day - my cause. So I explained to her that my cause was time and mortality. Got to do it now, or maybe I’ll never do it. Yup, my cause is mortality …go for it, Iive life and push yourself into situations that are just totally out of the norm. The reward is just an amazing sense of accomplishment. I don’t think she totally “got the pushing yourself” part but she was very cool in trying to figure it out. She even said she had read a couple of books, one about a guy who walked across the US, and the other about a guy who biked across the US, so obviously she has an interest in stuff like this were people go out there and just do it – living rather than just existing. If I can impart anything to people about doing things like this it’s:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>go out there and take a walk outside of the comfort zone, take chances, live your dreams, experience life. Yup, life’s about taking chances. If you don’t take chances you leave so much on the table. Enough said there.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I had this great breakfast at the hotel, with biscuits and gravy, some eggs, yogurt, muffins, doughnuts. Yup, I was just packed. And then off I went, riding into downtown Spokane to try to beat rush hour and the impending heat of the day when I reached the desert. The hotel staff had given me a route to get through the city rather than take Rt 2 onto the I-90 – which is a no, no. So I road a net descent down into the middle of the city, and then turned on 2<sup>nd</sup> Ave and finally onto Sunset Blvd which exits the city west to eventually hook back up with Rt 2 which comes off of the interstate west of the city. Didn’t really have much of a problem what with the early hour and the light traffic in the downtown. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Then got on Sunset Blvd and began riding west – right into this monster climb. Now I’d just made it across the Rocky Mountains without using the little cookie, but when I caught sight of this puppy my stubbornness evaporated – it was little cookie time! I’m telling you, this thing was a bitch. I dumped it into the little cookie and just spun in the third easiest cog in the rear, and occasionally dropping a gear and getting out of the saddle to change it up a bit. Must have taken me 15-20 min just to get up this climb and out of the city. Half way up I just stopped and stripped my long sleeved jersey due the profuse amount of sweat just running like small braided streams down my upper body. I was soaked half way up!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Finally got to the top and junctioned with Rt 2 off of the Interstate, and then it was just nice and flat. Went by like this massive strip mall complex outside of the city with some pretty heavy traffic. Good thing was that I had this just glorious berm that was a lane wide and smooth as glass with fresh asphalt. Once I got through all the suburbs and strip malls I was suddenly out in the middle of nowhere, just farm country, where I was surrounded by wheat fields as far as the eye could see. It was wild how fast I left the foothills and trees and entered this gargantuan basin. That’s where the road went back to single lane, and where the traffic just dwindled off to a low to moderate level. And that was it. Goodbye Spokane. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>The early morning temp was around 65-70 degrees. But by the time I’d passed the suburbs to the west it had climbed up to the low 80’s. I rode a series of rollers and straights into what looked to be more and more like the very Great Plains I had left several days ago. This is definitely not the way most people picture the state of Washington. I mean there were just all these rolling hills as far as I could see containing wheat fields. It was actually quite beautiful to see the fields of golden wheat on one side, and green wheat on the other. The play of morning light on the fields was pretty cool. I had a light crosswind out of the southeast that enabled me to keep a really nice pace of 13-17 mph depending on the rollers. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>About an hour later the terrain really changed drastically, like it was very reminiscent of the lave fields I experienced in Iceland when I pedaled out of the Reykjavik airport – just rubble fields of basaltic rock everywhere. I looked intimidating and menacing with such scorching weather. Yup, it was the desert for sure. I could just feel the heat magnify out there. It was wild. But I still had a coolish breeze from riding so I was being cooled off. No humidity here. This is just Arizona type heat. Eighty degrees felt ok. So I kept rolling on. Made it past Davenport with no stop needed, but damn, the last 13 miles up to Davenport seemed like a total false flat, just neverending. I mean I was doing like 15-17 mph going up this thing, but I could see cars just disappearing over the horizon each and every time they passed me. And when I’d got to the top of what looked to be the end, it just continued on to another top, and on and on and on. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Once past Davenport it was bloody well hot, really hot. I was going through these zones where it would be farmland fields of wheat and barley and then these “no man” zones of basalt and desert. That’s about the time my mouth started getting dry and cottony. I’d sip my water bottles to wet my whistle and just plug on. From Davenport it was 29 miles to Wilbur, with the small town of Creston about 20 miles in, and 9 miles from Wilbur. So I figured that at the very least I had plenty of water – 4 bottles – to get me that far. More false flats and rollers, and then long stretches of flats amidst these basalt fields that just looked like a freaking oven. My holdout for Creston was broken when I came upon a rest area with water. I stopped and just guzzled water by the bottle full for a good five minutes. Drank so much that I nearly had a stomach ache! But I was well hydrated and continued on to Creston. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I’ll tell you, now I can barely understand people living in like eastern Montana amidst …..just really nothing. But this place? It’s like a hell on earth out here. Just this one main road, Rt 2, and then nothing but these little one lane dirt roads that go off into the horizon, into the heart of the freaking oven. It’s a literal hell hole in some of these places. And there’s a farm here and there, just nestled down in a hollow with a grove of trees where there must be a water source. It’s just crazy to see people living their lives in this area. And the kids? Wow, such a different life. Made it through Creston and it was just a blink and you’re through it kind of place. And the final 9 miles to Wilbur were hot, hot, hot. I had toyed with the idea of pushing on to Coulee City, another 34 miles west, but by Creston that was a definite negative. Nope, just didn’t want to ride on into the scorching part of the day. I was going to go as planned and bag it at Wilbur. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>That last stretch was a nice one where I could jam on at nearly 17 mph. And seeing a town out here was just like seeing a town out on the Great Plains, where you can see the grain silos from miles upon miles away. You can see the town 5-7 miles before you get to it just because of the nothingness across this vast landscape. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Made it into town and hit a little efficiency and got situated. I asked for the “guy biking across America discount” and the lady was kind enough to give me the room with no boarding tax. By the time I entered Wilbur it was round about 92 degrees…and just smoking hot. Now this is not much of a town, and again, I just am amazed that people live their lives here….like this little oasis of humanity amidst a massive desert of basalt and wheat fields. Just like two little diners to eat, so I opted for the local grocery store and ended up getting like this big bag of frozen dinners. Got the Banquet specials! Got lunch, a Ben & Jerry’s snack, and dinner….+ a few beers for this evening. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I sat on a picnic table under this huge willow tree in front of the motel and had a beer. Damn, I was very glad I’d decided to bag it here. Going for the extra 30 miles would have been just insanely<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>toasty. Nope, I’ll do short 60-miler tomorrow to Ephrata, and then a very easy 47-mile ride to Wenatchee on Wed to hook up with Barney. And that will get me out of this desert. I’m now about 220 miles from the coast. Yipppe! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Well, it’s like 2:45 PM PST right now. I’m all done with everything really. I can work a bit on the computer and then take a nap. I’ll venture out for some photos later in the evening when the heat backs off and the light gets kinder. But right now I’m cocooned here in the AC loving life. Did my Ben & Jerry’s and feel very comfortable. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>That’s it from Eastern Washington in the badlands. Late……pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-46323398965119162142010-07-25T16:50:00.001-07:002010-07-25T16:50:58.267-07:00Welcome to Washington<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-25-10 Day 50: Sandpoint, Idaho to Spokane, Washington: 72 miles in 5:11 hours all on Rt. 2 West.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Today was kind of a celebratory ride for me, as I entered Washington state after the first two hours of riding and am finishing up what I believe is my final week of riding on this cross-country trip. Great day. Hot day. Really hot day!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got through my usual morning routine and got going on the bike at 6:15 AM. Not I had thought that it be a good idea to get going early as the weather was predicted to top 95 degrees today. Got going with no leg warmers and just a light long sleeved jersey out of Sandpoint. Had the roads to myself all the way through town and out into the mountains. Not a cloud in the sky, perfectly blue. Just a fantastic morning to ride. I just didn’t know what to expect today after yesterday’s mountain foray, so I just rode on the conservative side, spinning up the gradual rollers and keeping it mellow on the flats. I wanted gas in my legs in case I hit a substantial climb today. I was riding along the north side of the Oreille River all the way out of Sandpoint and to the west towards the Washington border. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>This was a nice rolling section of highway, with plenty of berm and just some great scenery along the river what with the sun popping up on the eastern horizon. No tough climbing here, just rolling up and down along the river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Got to the town of Priest River, Idaho in two hours. Crossed the Oreille River and presto chango I was in Washington state, and on a section of berm that was just pure heaven – glass smooth and about a lane wide with a rumble strip on the far left side. Welcome to Washington! Yanked the long sleeve jersey off and it was tank top time, what with the temp hitting 65 degrees in the town of Newport, Washington. Pure sunshine. No clouds, and dry heat. It felt just wonderful. Good to be alive!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Seemed as though I was doing more down than up as I continued southwest in Washington, and then when the road went dbl lane, I was doing some serious down, for several miles. The landscape was more on the dry, almost semi-arid side with lodgepole pine and white pine all over the place, than and a sandy soil. After the big descent there were several little ups and downs but nothing major. Got to tell you that by this time I was OUT of the Rockies. And that had to be the absolute easiest traversing of that mountain range I’d ever done. This was just not that bad to ride across. Now I didn’t plan the trip specifically around this, but I knew that the Rockies in Montana were not anywhere near as extensive as they are to the south in Wyoming, Colorado, and New Mexico. But those Great Plains of Montana – that made up for the lack of true mountain climbing. Really though, I just kind of lucked into a totally easy mountain crossing, where I never even used my little cookie for any of the climbing. Hell, I had a WAY tougher time crossing New York state and the Allegheny range!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>By this time the traffic really started to pick up, what with everyone coming back to Spokane, or leaving Idaho for the day. Thankfully I had that giant berm as my security blanket as the big RV’s and 5<sup>th</sup> wheels moving past me. I stopped at a mega gonzo gas station/diner about 30 miles out of Spokane for an ice cold coke. Guzzled and off again, onto a series of long rollers where I continued to loose elevation rather than gain it on the way to Spokane. Road went dbl lane again and I started to see signs of a big city a good 20 miles outside to the north. The traffic was just amazing for a Sunday, but with my berm – I was golden! Now it was around 10 AM by this time and I had seen a time and temp sign where the temp was listed as 83 degrees. And as I said, this is a dry heat, kind of like the desert southwest, so that 83 actually felt pretty comfortable, but I know that I wanted to be done in another hour because that temp was really beginning to climb.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Put it down as best I could for the last stretch, loosing my berm as I entered the city limits of Spokane, and a final out of the saddle climb up to and across the Spokane City Limits. Made it the 72 miles in just over 5 hours. I was feeling in a really great mood – hell I made Washington state and was less than a week away from completing my journey. Time for a treat! Yup, no little efficiency today, nope, I decided to splurge on a real hotel, the big time – Comfort Inn! I know, not exactly the Hilton, but to me, and all the cheesy little joints I’ve stayed in across this country, this was a freaking palace. Yup, 87 degrees out by the time I finished and I was just happy to get my salt encrusted ass off of the saddle and into the AC. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got checked in, showered, skyped Judy and then off to this Chinese buffet, and this pup was like the KING of all Chinese buffes – they had it all and it was just fantastic. I had 5 plates, a bowl of soup and a cup of frozen custard. Waddled out like a duck for gosh’s sake, and by then the temp was just torrid. Went back and grabbed a nap with the AC just jamming….and here I sit. Just feeling really great about this last stretch of riding. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now I have a desert of sorts to ride through in the first half of Washington. And the forecast is for 98-100+ degrees for the next two days, and nothing but sunshine for the next week. So this is my window to complete the journey in. I’m suppose to meet Barney in Wenatchee on Tuesday evening, but I just bought a map of Washington and that means that I have to really jam on tomorrow’s and Tuesday’s rides, maybe like doing 90+ miles on one of those days. I’ll have to line up all the towns just right on this stretch because there are sections like I rode back in Montana where there is just total nothing for 30-40 miles at a crack. So you have to lay up….or go for the green. And going for the green with it’s 100 outside is not what I’m looking forward to. Heat is my Achilles heel, so I just DO NOT want to be on the bike past, say 1-2 PM max. Just have to see how soon the heat sets in, and how strong a headwind I may have. I’m not going to bang it out into a 15+ mph headwind with those kinds of temps for 90-some miles!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Then it’s just a matter of one more mountain range to traverse – the Cascades, where the temps go down and the road goes UP!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Well, that’s it for today. It’s just so freaking hot out that I’m not even going to go out and walk around. I’ll see the city of Spokane tomorrow as I ride out of here early in the morning. That’s my photo opp time. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>From the state of Washington…..I’m out……Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-39132328666534056752010-07-24T16:01:00.000-07:002010-07-24T16:02:25.913-07:00No legs today<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-24-10 Day 49: Libby, Montana to Sandpoint, Idaho: 82 miles in 6:17 hours all on Rt. 2 West to Rt 2/Rt 95 South.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">I’m just rocked….totally beat to hell, completely done for the day. Well, I’ve said it when we were riding across Canada: Always expect the unexpected. And today was one such day.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Up at 5 AM and on the road at 6 AM, and I expected today to be even easier than yesterday – a little climbing, but a lot of flats along river valleys for a pretty mellow day. NOT! Got going out of Libby and did some gradual climbing on my to Troy, Montana. Now, just a slight backtracking about Libby. I really enjoyed this little mountain town. Was a shame I couldn’t hang out longer and soak up the atmosphere and do some hike in the nearby mountains. This is a totally “no frills” town. No nonsense, no junk shops, no bumper cars and giant slides and goofy golf courses. This was much bigger than East Glacier, and had a ton of character as did East Glacier. Wish I’d of had the energy to go out and scout around, but hell, I was in bed at 9 PM and sleeping way before it even got dark out. Too bad. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So anyway, started out with temp at about 49 degrees, wearing my leg warmers, and dbl long sleeve set-up I had on yesterday. I got going up these mellow climbs for a bit, taking my higher above the Kootenai River. The scenery was just fantastic as I entered a kind of gorge that the river had cut into walls through the mountain. There was on point where there was a local park called Kootenai Falls just off of the road, but the sun hadn’t even crested over the top of the peaks, so everything was in shadow. Was pretty cool to look down at the rapids, the falls, and the turbulent water several hundred feet below me. Took a few pics, but the lighting was just not there yet. So I just motored on. Round about on hour and a half in the sun finally started to illuminate the higher echelons of the mountains, and that’s when I did my first climb up towards the town of Troy. This wasn’t too bad and I made it in about 15 minutes, but man, the legs were just so lethargic, in or out of the saddle. Troy also looked like a pretty cool little town, and I salivated smelling fresh bacon and eggs cooking at a little diner along the side of the road. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I was so tempted to just stop and pig out on a big breakfast of greasy food. My 2 bananas and two yogurts were totally overshadowed by that smell wafting through the cool mountain air. It was all I could to keep the bike pointed straight ahead and keep rolling. But I plugged on. And the riding instead of being this nice flat stretch along the river was a long and endless series of power climbs. Now part of my mistake was listening to the owner of the efficiency who had told me yesterday that it was a bit of a climb up to Troy and then just soft pedaling the rest of the way. Funny how people who do not ride bikes often mistake the terrain I’m riding on by their “automobile conscious” judgments. Well, he totally didn’t perceive the moderate power climbs that undulated along the river, and then the biggie, the climb that really made my legs just suffer like a dog. Yup, he totally forgot about that one!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>This pup came about 8 miles from the Idaho border and it was round about 3 miles long, and at a pitch of somewhere between 10-12%. And it felt LLLLLLOOOOOOOONNNNNNGGGG! I was in and out of the saddle for probably like 25-30 minutes, all in the middle ring in the easiest cog in the back. It just kept switch-backing around and around until I finally topped out with about 5 miles to the border. Then I was treated to a mild descent, not loosing anywhere near what I had gained. Nope, I was up on the top of a mountain, and I was there to stay for a good bit of time. I finally came to mile marker #1 on Rt 2, the last mile in Montana. I was so jazzed that I stopped and took a pic of mile marker #1, and kind of shouted out “Love ya Montana, but gotta go!” And I pedaled on into Idaho. Nothing really changed. I was still up on the mountain on a single lane road out in the middle of nowhere. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>And this is where the riding just got downright gnarly, what with these long, gradual swales I had to go up and down. It was like non-stop, just a series of rolling up and down, what nary a chance to get into a rhythm. Nope, shift down two gears and pedal slightly down, and then shift up 2-3 gears and get out of the saddle and get over the top, again, and again, and again. Just felt my already tired legs totally getting the hammered, getting thoroughly tenderized by the rollers. This is where I realized that today was going to be a LONG, hard day. The scenery was just wonderful, so I tried to concentrate on that, and stop occasionally to take pics. But I’ll tell you, when the legs are like pillars of concrete, the mind just cannot fully get away from the pain. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I did notice that I was kind of riding away and out of the higher mountains and into an area that was more of foothills and plateau. I ended up stopping just short of Bonners Ferry, about 51 miles in, at a mega gas station/restaurant. Had to get off of the bike. Had to get some food in me. There was no “riding through” this one today. It was going to be a bit of a battle on the physical side. I stumbled in and sat down in the restaurant, noting one of the waitresses bringing out an order of biscuits and gravy. So when my waitress told me about the biscuits and gravy special, I was there. That and a cup of coffee and all the ice water I could drink down. I must have wolfed down the 4 biscuits and gravy in like 5 minutes. Sucked down several waters and a coffee and then back on the bike again. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I had 31 miles to get to Sandpoint, and I had to literally pry myself out of that booth for fear of getting rigor mortis if I stayed too long. Yup, that was going to be a very trying 31 miles, especially when the heat was just climbing by the minute. Now I had gained an hour by crossing the border and entering my final time zone – Pacific Standard, so in actuality I left Bonners Ferry at 9:30 AM instead of 10:30 AM for Mountain Time. But still, the temp had just started to skyrocket by then. Now riding south on Rt 2/Rt 95 I had stripped off my first jersey back before that long climb, and now I had to get ride of the long sleeved Underarmor and the leg warmers. That happened when I descended down and across a bridge over the Kootenai River and spotted another gnarly looking climb going to the south. So I put a tank top on, and rode with shorts for the first time in three days. Lucky thing I peeled when I did because I must have climbed for a solid 40 min, up a steep pitch at first, where it leveled out for about 2 miles and then went back up on a very long gradual. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Luckily my legs actually started to feel “back” what with the<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>breakfast I’d consumed back in Bonners Ferry. So this climb was ok, long, but ok. Got to the top and started to feel a gradual increase in the wind – out of the south of course. And that made the riding much tougher, especially when the temp was just climbing as if I were in an oven. Onward. And again, it was just this endless series of rollers, gradual climbs and gradual descents, on and on and on. After another 15 miles of that my legs were right back in the hurt locker. By this time I noticed that I was really in a different type of climatic zone, one more hot and dry, where it felt as though I was in some kind of high basin with mountains way off to the east and west of me, and much lower in elevation, more like foothills than actually mountain ranges. And man, you could really tell the difference with the heat just kind of blazing away in this basin. It felt like the day we left Barney and Val in Penticton BC in the Okanagan Valley and rode to Kelowna. It was hot, windy and I was just totally spent. Ditto today.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Finally I saw a another giant gas station complex and just had to pull in for an ice cold coke. Well, no coke but I had a cherry-Pepsi fountain drink, like a 32-oz guy just chuck full of ice. Sucked it down and poured the ice into an empty water bottle and continued. Seemed like I rode for another hour just kind of hanging on, watching and waiting for some sign of Sandpoint. Finally saw a mileage sign down the road, and I was expecting the worst, thinking that maybe it would be 14-15 miles to go. But a great surprise – 8 miles. “Yup, I can do that,” I muttered to myself, “let’s take it home.” Rode into the headwind just kind of thinking about food, icewater, stopping, resting, being done. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Made it to Sandpoint about 30 minutes later. And I was just so happy to be done. That was a tough ride today, on totally lethargic, heavy legs. Got a place and then got situated and filled a bucket with ice and just sat in my room and poured ice and cold water into bottle after water bottle. Showered and then hit a Subway down 2 blocks. Did the same old thing with 2 footlongs. One of the young guys inside asked me if I was going to eat both of them, and I responded yes, that I’d just ridden 82 miles from Libby. He laughed and I told him that yesterday at the Libby Subway the girls working the deli stared at me as I was eating, like I was a bloody freak show, as I consumed 2 footlongs in like 15-20 minutes. I had told this young fellow to “load em up” because I was so bitch hungry. I literally had the hypoglycemic shakes waiting in a line that took some 30 minutes before I was up to bat. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>After the Subway went straight-away to a grocery and got a six of on Oregon micro brew, a porter, and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s to feast on back at the efficiency. So that’s where I’m at now. Done with the ice cream, and still drinking ice water one bottle after another. The temp outside is now about 91 degrees, so TG I’d finished as early as I did. Tomorrow I hope to make Spokane, about 75 miles away. But it’s going to be a hot one, with the forecasted temp up to about 98, so I have to leave early and finish early. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Tentatively I’m to meet up with Barney from BC at the town of Wenatchee, Washington. He wants to ride the last several days with me to Seattle. I’m really looking forward to hooking up with him – that should be a grand way to finish this trip up. He’s looking at driving down to Monroe, Washington, and then taking his bike on a bus to meet up with me in Wenatchee. Then we’d ride up the Cascades together and down to the coast. So far it’s looking like that could happen on Tuesday, when we’d meet up that afternoon after my ride. Keeping my fingers crossed that his schedule remains as-is so that this plan is a go. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>That’s it for the day. Tomorrow – Washington state here I come. I hope the legs get a quick recovery!.........Pete </span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-91172244210547237142010-07-23T15:19:00.001-07:002010-07-23T15:19:58.542-07:00Half a million dollar ride<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-23-10 Day 48: Kalispell, Montana to Libby, Montana: 88 miles in 6:23 hours all on Rt. 2 West.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Another just stellar ride in the mountains. Now there were little things that kind of dampened the mood just smidge, but overall this was an amazing day on the bike.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Tell you what, it rained like heck yesterday, especially later in the afternoon. There were thunder storms and 60 mph gusts that downed trees and knocked out the electrical. It was something to watch as I sat in a Wendy’s waiting for my Chicken something sandwich. I had to wait a bit for the rain to die down before I left. Otherwise I’d of gotten soaked in like a minute. And it pretty much stormed all through the night. But the trusty Weather Channel guaranteed that today was going to be great out here in Western Montana. So I went to beddie bye with visions of great weather to ride in for Friday. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got up at my now customary 5 AM, readied my gear, slammed 2 yogurts and 2 bananas – which is now my tried and true pre-ride food – and got out the door and on the bike at 6:15 AM. I just LOVE starting early and finishing early. That 8:30 AM starts stuff is for the birds. It just puts you too far into the afternoon and into the toughest heat of the day. Today’s expected high was forecast at 88 degrees, so I wanted to be off the bike no later than 2 PM. Out here the temp just continues to climb up to about 5-6 PM where the hottest part of the day is. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So got rolling into a really cool morning – 46 degrees – with a very large blanket of cloud cover still looming over Kalispell and stretching off to the west, the remnants of the front that came through yesterday. So I had long sleeved Underarmor, long sleeved jersey and my leg warmers on. There seemed to be a slight breeze out of …..you guessed it – the west! But no real hassle for riding. Rode out of Kalispell and then on to the west on Rt 2. Now the bummer was that the berm just deteriorated from this 6-foot wide behemoth to a real nothing, in a matter of like 5 miles. And that was it. It was just this token little berm of like 1 foot wide. Now this isn’t too bad early in the morning as there is little traffic on the road with me, but later….I was kind of bumming there because I just didn’t know how long this would last. Could be like just a mile or two, or could be like the whole way to Libby. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I was riding in this valley surrounded by foothills, very reminiscent of or the ride on Rt 36 out of Boulder, CO up to Lyons. And then I started slowly climbing up these little stair step climbs – until I just started climbing with no relief, and I eventually dropped into the easiest gear in the middle cookie. This was definitely a pass, as I was climbing out of one drainage system and up to what I hoped was a drainage divide. Now this pup was may harder than the Marias Pass I had climbed out by Glacier National Park. Yup, this guy was longer by far. But no little cookie. I topped out on what was indeed a divide, and then I was in fog, actually the thick cloud blanket that I’d seen from Kalispell. And I rode in the fog, on a shit berm for nearly 15 miles. There were spots where the sun broke through, and there were other spots where it was just totally fogged in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I did have the occasional log truck and gravel truck pass me, but they ALWAYS went well to their left to give me room on the thin ribbon of berm. The rest of the traffic was just as courteous. I was still a bit wigged about the fog and the lack of good berm. But at least people could see me and were giving me some space. Rode along the top of that divide for a long way, and then slowly began to descend down to another river valley – the Kootenai River Valley. This is where I started to run into a string of mountain lakes, McGregor Lake and the Lower, Middle and Upper Thompson Lakes. Some sections of this string of lakes area were ever so slightly illuminated by the sun through breaks in the low cloudbank, and then other sections were just totally fogged out. When I’d go though the sun areas I could see these wonderful mountains on both sides of me. In the fog, hell all I could see was about a third of the way up the sides of the mountains. But this was just awesome terrain. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Round about the Thompson Lakes area I got a great section of berm that took me all the way to this little, damned near nothing of a place called Happy’s Inn. Now that was my bail point if the day really sucked today, 49 miles west of Kalispell. But no way Hose’. I was bound and determined that with yesterday being an off day, I was going to do the 80-some miles to Libbly. So I stopped at one of two places in Happy’s Inn, the gas station/diner. Got a cold Pepsi and 2 muffins down my stomach in 10 min and back on the bike for the final push to Libbly. From Happy’s Inn I was doing a nice pace along the river, riding ever so slightly downstream at like 13-15 mph. Felt great.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Entered Kootenai National Forest and that’s when the thick blanket of low cloud cover finally broke. And when it did I was just treated to some unbelievable riding down in the river valley surrounded by the Salish Mountain Range. It was just spectacular with the sun out, shining down on the mountains with blue sky and cotton ball clouds up high. Ended up pulling off my long sleeved jersey as the temp was really starting to rise once the cloud cover had broken. I had to do another small pass as I rode northwest towards Libby and away from the Kootenai River, but this was no where near as hard as the fist pass of the day. And at that climb that’s where I lost my good berm again. Back to a little nothing of a berm the rest of the way. But the truck traffic had really died off by then, so again, not as bad as it could have been. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Once I topped out and descended I was on a pretty flat section of road that really resembled just a state or local road – but with these amazing mountains on both sides of me. It was just crazy beautiful to ride along this section. I was making much better time than I had figured on, because on this section there were points where I was jamming away at 15-18 mph. Yup, good to be alive! I rolled into Libby at about 1 PM, just before the heat really got going. Got a place a block away from a Subway. First things first – sink wash both tops and both bottoms and leg warmers. They were all pretty sticky by the time I got finished. Just set them outside of my efficiency door in the grass to air dry in the 88-degree sunshine. Then I just sat on a picnic table basking in the hot sun with shorts and no shirt with a big water bottle of ice water. Once I was hydrated beyond belief, I moseyed down to Subway for my 2 footlongs. Let’s see……ride 88, do wash, eat at Subway and it’s all done by 2 PM! That’s what I call a good day. Got a couple of Fosters Oil Cans for later at the local grocery and I’m set.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Tomorrow the temp is supposed to climb up to 94, so again, I’m going to shoot for a 6 AM start and hopefully shoot for the city of Sandpoint, Idaho. Yup, I’m just 32 miles from the Idaho border. I just cannot tell you how long Montana is. When I entered the state on Rt 2 the mileage sign read round about 670 miles! So I’ve ridden through 640 miles of Montana and I’m still freaking here. The panhandle of Idaho is very short, roughly a day and a half of riding if the weather is good, and then I’m in Spokane, Washington. I’m hoping to make Spokane by Sunday afternoon. You know, I can kind of smell the barn at the end of this ride now. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Well, I’m going to scrub down the drivetrain of my bike and then have a few beers in the hot Montana sun. Talk to you tomorrow…….pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-33002557193252289552010-07-22T15:26:00.000-07:002010-07-22T15:30:04.288-07:00Rainy day in Kalispell<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-22-10 Day 47: Kalispell, Montana – Off day due to weather. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Let’s chalk up another off day today. Now I can’t say I’m bumming big time. Not really. I actually just lazed the day away napping like three times and doing my little Chinese buffet again. It all started like this…</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got up and readied my self at 5 AM for a 6:30 start. The weather forecast was pretty dead on from yesterday, as storms were supposed to move in during the late morning-the early afternoon. Checked the Doppler Radar and sure enough there was a system moving to the east/southeast out of Northern Idaho – I’m only like 120 miles from the Idaho border. Went for some morning coffee and noted that the wind was strong out of the west. So my choices were to shoot for Happy Inn and/or Libby with storms looming to the west, or, stay put and look forward to nearly a week of forecasted sunshine. The other factor was that Happy Inn is just barely a place of human habitation, with just barley any amenities, and more than likely I’d not beat the weather the full 84 miles to Libby where my choices were much better. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I just decided to wait until tomorrow and relax here in Kalispell. So that was it. Came back to the efficiency and went back to bed for a couple hours of sleep. Then, round about 10 AM I got up and saw that the front had moved in and the sky was pretty grey and ominous. By 11 AM the rain had started. Felt pretty good that I wasn’t out in the mountains of Western Montana, out in the middle of bloody nowhere, riding into a gnarly headwind in the rain and regretting not waiting a day to have a pretty clean weather week of riding ahead of me. So it’s been kind of off and on storm/clouds/sun for the last 4 hours today here in Kalispell. It’s supposed to blow on by by early tomorrow morning. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I hit the buffet again round about 12:30, donning my anorak and walking down there in the rain. Did 4 plates and a cup of custard. Probably could have gone for 5 plates, but I just didn’t want the buda belly grumbling like an angry grizzly bear for a couple of uncomfortable hours. Then another round of napping post feeding frenzy. Funny how this cycling every day thing for 4-7 hours just really beats you down. It was like I went into the hibernation mode once I didn’t get on the bike today. I mean I crashed HARD on that third nap, waking up with drool on the side of my face! Must have conked out for a solid hour and a half of dream world. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Just looked out the window and it’s raining yet again. Coming down pretty hard this time. Well, I think I’ll just hit the grocery for a bit of hops and barley and get a smoothy at Wendy’s on the walk back! Yup, when you’re taking an off day it’s B. B. & IC – buffet, beer and ice cream. Have a great day and I’ll check in with you tomorrow……..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-6717087933617707082010-07-21T16:08:00.000-07:002010-07-21T16:10:09.652-07:00Million dollar ride<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-21-10 Day 46: East Glacier Park, Montana to Kalispell, Montana: 88 miles in 6:07 hours all on Rt. 2 West.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">This was one of those “Million Dollar” rides. You don’t get many of these on a trip, so I just savored it despite having an awesome day with respect to the time and distance I covered today.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Hit the hay on the late side last night – round about 10:30 – because I was NOT going to get up at 4 AM to get on the road for a 5 AM send-off. Nope, got up at a leisurely 5 AM and prepped for the mountains. The morning temp was an amazing 29 degrees, so I popped out the tights, the Underarmor long sleeve, gloves, ear warmers and long sleeve jersey. Slammed a couple of yogurts and 2 bananas and got ready to roll. Hit the road at 6:30 AM and off on the road all to myself for the first day in the mountains. Now I knew I had a pass to get over today – Marias Pass – and then whatever else the mts threw at me. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got going with what felt like a very slight wind out of the west, but nothing that was gnarly. Did a little descending to a mountain meadow and then started gradually moving upwards. It just felt great to have all these trees surrounding me. I had a couple of trains going by, as the RR was just to my right. Got in the middle ring and just started climbing, in and out of the saddle. Nothing really tough though. Stopped numerous times to snap pics as I was climbing upwards. And I was thinking that this was pretty mellow, so don’t get lulled into some kind of false sense of security and think that the whole climb was going to be like that. Dipped down a few times and then right back up. And then, round about an hour in I got up to this sign on the road that read: Marias Pass: The Continental Divide. I was bloody stunned. I was expecting that I’d be using my little cookie and just stopping for an hour working up to the pass. But this was just totally sedate. It was easier than Sunday Pass that we did back in BC on our second day in the mts.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Then I thought I’d get throw a couple of nasties somewhere along the way where I’d still have to drop down into the little cookie. So I rode over the pass and went through the town of Summit. Nice camping up there with plenty of cabins and little efficiencies. And then the descent started, and it was just a zinger, where I just kind of plummeted down for a good 12-15 miles. Now by this time I realized that the real challenge was doing Marias Pass from the west to east, because what I was descending looked just wicked to climb from the other direction. I had lucked out in a big way. All that false flat riding I’d been doing on the high plains had given me the altitude over days instead of just the several hours you’d have to put in on steep pitches going west to east. Then the Middle Fork of the Flathead River came alongside the road and the pitch kind of lessened out a bit, but still descend to where I could comfortably ride at like 15-18 mph. Now there were spots where the road arched back up to small 5-10 min rollers, but nothing crazy and long. Route 2 and the RR just hugged the Flathead River for a long, long ride down to West Glacier. The road had been repaved so I had some awesome road surface to descend down. The berm, well, a bit iffy in places but I felt pretty good even with the smallish space I had to ride in. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>The scenery was just stunning, and I was off the bike every 20-30 min snapping pics of the mts and the river valley. Sometimes I’d roll up a couple of hundred feet above the river and RR, and other times I was right down along the river. There is camping and lodging all over the place along this beautiful stretch of road. The smell of pine just lingered in the fresh mountain air. After a while there were just loads of busses hauling up people and rubber rafts east up the mountain to put in somewhere along the Flathead. Looked like a very cool river to raft down. By this time I realized that I had gotten away VERY easy on this day with respect to mountain climbing. All the sweat and blood on the high plains had put me really high up in the mountains by the time I’d gotten to East Glacier. That took hundreds of miles to gain the elevation. But from West Glacier, all that elevation is gained in just 35-40 miles to Marias Pass. Also realized that I’d be in West Glacier, my destination for the day, in a matter of 4 hours of less. And that’s when I started mulling over the idea of riding to Kalispell, some 31 miles further west from West Glacier. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got to West Glacier and the sun was out. Hell, I’d stopped about 15 miles out of town to strip off my jersey, gloves, ear warms because the heat had climbed up to the mid 60’s. NOT what was supposed to happen back in East Glacier. There the high for the day was predicted at 56 degrees with afternoon thunder storms. Much different climate on the west side. Well, I got into West Glacier at 10:45 AM, in roughly 3:45 hours. And let me tell you…..West Glacier is an ugly sister of Estes Park, Colorado, what with the bumber cars, slides, goofy golf course, junks parlors and stupid shops. It was just crawling with people<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>- a zoo. NOPE, no stop here for food or drink. I just decided Kalispell was game on, and I’d grab something to eat and drink further down the line to the west, maybe in Coram, Hungry Horse, or Columbia Falls. So I just kept riding. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>By then the temp had climbed up to mid 70’s, and those damned tights were getting a bit sticky! Didn’t want to stop though so I kept rolling along the Flathead River to Coram. By now the Flathead was not a fork or branch, it was a river that is very wide, very clear and clean and it looked quite inviting what with those cold rumbling waters. Got to Coram, and sign read: Columbia Falls 8 miles. So I kept rolling. Got to Columbia Falls and the sign read: Kalispell 15 miles. That was it, I was rolling all the way to Kalispell non-stop. Coram and Columbia Falls were just a smidge better than West Glacier with respect to the commercialism, but still, there was a lot of junk out there. Now as I began to ride towards Kalispell, the mountains really opened up on the north and south sides and suddenly I was riding in this massive basin which was pretty flat and dry. The high, snow covered peaks were behind me in West Glacier, and now surrounding the basin were much lower mountain ranges. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>About 8 miles outside of Kalispell you could just feel that you were nearing a big city, with all kinds of commercial places along the roadway. Traffic was thick, but I had a nice 6-foot wide berm to ride on into the city. Got into Kalispell in just over 6 hours and 88 miles in. this was just a great day to ride, and I’m pretty happy I took advantage of the weather and the net down I had all day. By the time I got into town the temp was in the low 80’s. And you could just feel the dry heat. Actually from what I was expecting for the day – a high of 56 – this was awesome. Got a nice little place and then beat feet to a Chinese buffet down the road, just a block from my old standby Subway. Nope, this was a “buffet day” indeed. I think I did like 4 plates and a cup of frozen custard. Wonderful. Hell, I did the whole day on nothing but two yogurts and two bananas from the morning, so I was just massively hungry. Got a few beer to drink back at the ranch and I was just totally pleased with this day. Not only did I have a stunning ride, but I also made some great distance in great time. Can’t do much better than that when you’re riding cross country. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Tomorrow I’m in a bit of a quandary because of the distance I traveled today. I can either do Happy Inn, Montana, about 47 miles away as a “lay-up”, or I could go for the green and shoot for Libby, Montana, another 41 miles further west. There is nothing, and I mean nothing in between the two places. The forecast for this area tomorrow is for afternoon thunder storms, and wind out of the south. I’m just going to have to wake up and ride to Happy Inn, and then see how I am with respect to time, wind, terrain etc, to see if I go for the green and ride to Libby. Should be interesting. So that’s it. I’m down to 120 miles left in Montana – 2 to 3 days of riding depending on the conditions. Then it’s a short piece through Idaho, about 80 miles and then I’m down to just Washington state. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Well, time for another beer. All the best…….Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-5529908771989911172010-07-20T12:19:00.000-07:002010-07-20T12:20:30.543-07:00Trees and mountains - yes!<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-20-10 Day 45: Cut Bank, Montana to East Glacier Park, Montana: 48 miles in 4:10 hours all on Rt. 2 West.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Trees again! Damn does it feel good to be out of the Great Plains. This time compared to the Canadian trip the Plains just felt like forever. I’m super stoked to be at the base of the Rockies now, and next up is the traverse of the range into Idaho and Washington. I have roughly about 200 miles of Rt 2 to go in Montana.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Decided I’m just done with getting up at 4 AM and tackled this morning at 5 AM, and was pretty casual about it, making a little pot of coffee and watching the local Helena, MT news and weather while sipping java. I had bought some yogurt and two bananas and had those for breakfast rather than the almost unchewable bagel and PBJ. I’m just totally burnt out on the bagel PBJ thing. Don’t even want to look at them again, not with PBJ slathered all over them anyway. So I figured on getting out on the road between 6 and 7 AM. The hell with the early start at 5 to beat the wind and heat. Today the temp was supposed to be just above 40 degrees, so heat was zero issue. Now it was just the wind, and according to the news station the wind was about 3-5 mph out of the northwest or just about calm. So with my itinerary of 47-50 miles for the day, I didn’t care if I was out there for 6 hours. That would still give me a finish time at 1 Pm at the latest. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now what with the weather report of temps in the low 40’s, I had gotten out some clothing that I thought I was just lugging around like a noodnik just to add more weight to my load. But be damned if they actually came in handy. Got out the leg warmers, the ear warmers, gloves and my Underarmor long sleeve for a base layer. Popped my head out the door, and sure enough, I could just about see my breath. Yup, chilly start for sure. Get ready and was on the road by 6:30 AM. Wind was just a hint out of the northwest. The morning started out cloudless. From the western edge of Cut Bank I could see the Rockies off in the distance. Finally. I mean this was way different than in BC in Canada, where we could see the Mt ranges for several days on end before we got there. Nope. Here in Montana I never saw the Rockies until I arrived into Cut Back yesterday, and the fact that the storms and clouds were so thick yesterday, it was hard to even discern the mts. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Today, different story with zero cloud cover in the morning. There they were just looming some 50 miles away to the west. I had to do this little screamer of a descent down to a small river to start the day, and wow, what with the chilly temps, that was just totally bone chilling to begin the ride. Then there was the climb out of the small valley, and it felt like my chest was going to explode what with only 5 min of riding and cardio in my body. Went from like 0-60 in several min, with me in the little cookie stomping out of the saddle to get up this climb. But it just kind of leveled off and continued up in what was probably a 1-2% grade – for 20 miles!! Yup, I was climbing west up to the Rockies, and despite the darned near negligible headwind, I could only muster 11 mph. Again, felt like a had a brake stuck or a tire flat. But nope, just a false flat. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now I had entered my final Indian Reservation of the Montana journey, the Blackfeet Nation. And I hate to say it but this stretch of road, what with its spectacular 6 foot wide berm for me to ride on, it was just littered with broken glass. I mean I just had to concentrate so hard on what was in front of me that I could not enjoy the ride west as the mts were getting more and more in my face. Hell no, I had to dodge, swerve, tilt and bypass just mile after mile of broken glass – most specifically beer bottles. I decided to name this stretch of highway the “Crushed Glass Highway.” And it wasn’t fun. Constantly I had to put my right hand down, with glove on, against the front and rear tires to make sure that glass hadn’t adhered to the rubber. Two times I actually had my gloved hand kick off pieces of glass stuck to the front and rear tires. Very good thing I had those gloves on because the one time the glass was a sizable chunk on the front tire. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>This had to be the worst stretch of highway with respect to the glass that I’d ridden for the whole trip. I was shouting out some pretty saucy expletives every 10-15 min and then going through the same process again and again, dipping my right gloved hand down and holding it across the front and rear tires. This as I just continued to do a false flat climb on an arrow straight stretch of highway that just drifted off into the western horizon. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got to the Indian town of Browning, about 34 miles in about 3:30 hours of ride time. Now I had been kind of warned about this town. Advise was just continue through. Do not stop, do not pass go, do not spend money or time there – just keep riding. And that I did. Heck I rode through at about 9:30 AM, so things were really subdued there. It’s almost like some of the towns I’d seen in Mexico, where shacks and old trailers dominate the town – not a pretty place. Now there were all sorts of signs inviting tourists to stop here and there, but really, this was a get in and get out kind of place. It’s the worst of the Indian towns I’d ridden through. So I got through Browning and then the traffic just kind of dropped off by half or more, what with some traffic going south to Great Falls or north towards Canada. Just a smidge of the traffic, and most of it tourist traffic, continued on Rt 2 west. So that was kind of nice to really have things settle down. Still had the great berm – and still had the Crushed Glass Highway. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Did this little butt kicker of a climb out of Browning which forced me to take off ear warmers, gloves and long sleeved jersey once I got to the top. I mean I was sweating up a storm despite the fact that the time was only about 56-58 degrees. During those 3.5 hrs of riding I’d stop every 20-40 min to take pics of the mountains as they just got closer and closer. No hurry these next several days, that’s for sure. Nope, I want to be casual and be able to stop every now and then to take some nice photos. So I got to about 4 miles east of East Glacier and then I could see the trees coming back into the picture, trees climbing up the foothills and into the mountains. What a beautiful sight – stands of trees just covering the hills and mts. I’d been riding a solid 800 miles of plains, and to see this, well, I just had to shout out loud in ecstacy! “Trees,” I yelled out, “I love you.” So long Great Plains, hello Mountains. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Ended up doing this screaming descent down to East Glacier and into town. East Glacier is a nice, quaint little place, so unlike say a resort type town at the foot of a National Park like Estes Park, Colorado. No, no Estes here. This is just a cool, very little place. No bumper car gigs, no giant slides, no dog and pony shows, no main street just oozing with junk shops and candy shops, hot dog shops and outfitters. This little place is just so far removed from that schlock that it’s very refreshing. I’d taken the time last night to research the amenities out here on my computer, and I found a little efficiency in town at a super great price compared to the two main hotel/motes, so I booked it. Told them I could be in early, like 11 AM, and they were really cool, saying they do their best to have it ready for me despite they normally have the rooms ready at 2 PM. Really friendly folks. So I got there at 10:30 AM, and the gentleman suggested that I hit the diner next door for coffee or breakfast and that he’d have it ready by 11. DONE. I went next store to a very, very cool little diner run by a couple of “Granola” type folks, and had some spectacular French toast with huckleberries, that and a cup of really good java. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>What a difference here compared to the last 450 miles of places I’d just ridden through in Montana. I mean it was like I just landed in a different country. This was an outdoorsy, vibrant environment, with young long hairs stopping in before or after a backpacking trip. With kayakers, cyclists, canoe enthusiasts, just it is totally different than say Havre, where these monster trucks driven by dudes with cowboy hats dominated the landscape. This is a different Montana here at East Glacier, the kind of place that I just love to hang at and soak up the vibes. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Well, true to his word, the gentleman had my efficiency ready to go at 11. I rode back down the road 2 blocks to the place and it’s really a neat little gig. I mean I have satellite TV, bed, shower and a little pine desk in a smallish room. It’s really cozy. Now they have wifi, but I only get like 2 bars, so I popped my air card in and I’m up to two bars there, but with much better upload and download time. So far so good. So if I do not blog tomorrow, you’ll know that I ran out of signal. This could be the case for the next several days as I ride west over the mts. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Right now it’s clouding up pretty good here, just like it does in the mts…..clear in morning and early afternoon, and then clouding over with the potential for thunder boomers in the later afternoon and evening. This on the weather forecast for this area for the next 2 days. And get this, the low tomorrow and Wed is supposed to be 29-degrees! You know, I’ll take that any day over 80-90 degrees and torrid humidity. I like the cold, I do better in the cold, I welcome the cold. The highs for tomorrow is supposed to be 56-58, and around 60-62 on Wed – perfect for cycling for me. Chance of afternoon storms are a possibility for both of those days to. So I’ll likely try to get rolling about 7 AM and put in like 5-7 hours so I end by early afternoon each of those days. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Well, just checked all my tires and they good. THAT I just cannot believe. I’ll likely be doing a check every 3-4 hours just to not have to wake up tomorrow morning and see that I have a slow leaker. Going to get out and explore this little town a bit and visit the Amtrak station in the center of town. It’s made of wood and looks like an old train station rather than the ugly metal building that most of the stations are made of. Probably check out a couple of the eating establishments to, one of which is this place called Serrano’s, a mex place that looks to have a pretty cool menu. And the beer? Well, this little grocery had micro brews in big bottles, just like the brews Barney and I went nutz about in Quebec City. I’ll snag a couple of those bad boys for sure. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Tomorrow I’m shooting for my first day in the mts and getting to either West Glacier or maybe even Columbia Falls if the weather and the wind are kind to me. Hope my legs are kind to me to. That’s it. Time to enjoy the fruits of my labors over the last week – time to enjoy a little mountain town at the foot of the Northern Rockies. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US">All the best……..pete </span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-23545465737784819102010-07-19T16:12:00.000-07:002010-07-19T16:17:46.282-07:00So close, but not today<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-19-10 Day 44: Shelby, Montana to Cut Bank, Montana: 24 miles in 2:15 hours all on Rt. 2 West.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">My today was somewhat humbling. Sometimes the math just says it all: 2 days and 190 miles of hills and headwinds/tailwinds = dead legs. So I got on the road today thinking that at the very least, I could bag it in Cut Bank and make it a really easy day….OR I could do 71 miles to the foot of the mts at East Glacier. Man, was it cold – 52 degrees, and the weather just looked totally ominous, with these gnarly thunder clouds to the north and big curtains of rain falling across the northern landscape. Weather report called for morning thunder storms and winds out of the north/northwest at 10-20 mph.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now it was dead calm when I started, but damn, the rain lighening off to my right just scary as hell looking out there in the middle of the plains with just nothing but me and the road. Noted that when I got going my legs were just so heavy and lethargic that it was just killer to go up the long gradual climbs. Out of the saddle felt horrible. And then with all those storms just kind of banging away off to the north, that kind of had me riding with a heightened sense of need. Just didn’t want to get caught in a storm with temps of 52-56 degrees. That could spell hypothermia. So despite the heavy legs I just had to keep a good rhythm to at least Cut Bank to try to beat the storms. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I kind of struggled on with my eyes on those storms, like 3-4 of them out to the north and one off to the south. West, well that seemed to be the only open spot in the sky. Kind of gave me hope that I could traverse the storms and keep rolling west into good weather. But about an hour in I saw something on the western horizon. At first I thought it was the mountains I was seeing in the distance. But as I got up atop on one of the higher rollers I saw the real picture – this big, massive, menacing looking wall of black moving towards me. And that’s about the time the wind just picked up out of nowhere. Like bang, headwind. And within a few minutes I had gone from 11 mph to 7 mph, just like trying to bust through a wall of wind. It was the storm approaching, and I had about 8 miles to go to get to Cut Bank. That’s about the time I started looking at place for shelter – anything. But there was just nothing. I was out in the middle of the plains. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I just had to try to keep it rolling and hope like hell I could make it to Cut Bank. The front brought in some cooer air with those winds, in addition to a slight misting. I though I was pretty much SOL at that point but the on coming traffic was not wet or using their windshield wipers. And then it looked as if I was riding through this massive grey fog bank….and way up ahead I could see Cut Bank. So I just tried like heck to keep some power on the pedals. I finally made it to the point to where I was passing an old barn here and there, and then finally a few business establishments, and then a sign that advertised Mickey D’s as being 5 miles away. By that time it looked like I was going to make it without getting dumped on. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Made it into town and pedaled to the Mickey D’s as a safe haven from the weather, which still looked pretty threatening. Got a hot coffee and a couple of McSomething’s. Hung for about an hour and by that time I just decided to bag it, as the wind had picked up even more, yet the weather looked like it could clear. But riding 47 miles into a 15-20 mph headwind just was not in my legs today. I went and found a place to stay and returned for some more coffee, and more McSomething’s seeing that they wouldn’t have a efficiency ready till like 11 AM – 12 PM. That’s when I met fellow cross country rider Arron, biking west to east coming from Seattle. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>He and his bud, Phil, have been three weeks on the road, having just crossed the mts and today entered the plains. They’re kind of doing the gig that Ryan and I did last year where we were camping most of the way and doing on the thin – just bagging it out in the middle of nowhere at times. They’re both new to cycling, and Phil, well, he just quit smoking. But be damned if they didn’t make it across the mountains. Kudos to them for their guts and perseverance. Arron was riding ahead of Phil, as Arron got up first and had to bivy last night without a sleeping bag – the wind blew it away! It stormed like hell last night and the wind picked up to pretty intense velocities. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So Arron and I talked for a bit and sipped coffee. He was telling me about some people he had met in the mts doing the cross country thing, but they would occasionally hitch hike or throw their bikes on a bus and skip hard sections. The way he described it was pretty funny, like he just couldn’t believe that people would do that, him not even really being a cyclist. Actually I feel the same way as him. It’s a matter of you cheating yourself. Cheat……..NEVER! That means having to start over to not break the thread. Stop and bag the day, rest, relax, stand still, sit in a field…but don’t break the thread, don’t quit!! Arron will make it. He’s got a good attitude. Arron is also self-employed like me, and a computer IT guy who also works while on the road as I do. His bud Phil came in about an hour later. Phil seems like a hardy, pretty funny dude, a guy like I said who just quit smoking due to riding across the country – cross country riding and smoking do not mix. Now Arron had made some kind of deal at the place I’m staying at to shower in a shower room, so they headed over there after checking a local sporting goods place for a sleeping bag replacement. No go there – nothing but heavy, bulky junk. I had to wait outside the motel because my little room wasn’t ready yet, or I’ve had had them shower there. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now something happened where the morning person at the motel had given Arron the ok to take a quick shower, but the new shift an hour later said no. But Arron somehow went in and showered nonetheless. Phil? They told him no and he kind of just left pissed off, not wanting to do the stealth deal that Arron did. Tell you what, I’m just too old to put up with trying to travel like that. It’s just a total pain in the ass – an aggravation on a daily basis. Like last night they slept in these old grain silos that had tears in the sides so they could get in. They’re probably 20 years younger than me, so that helps doing something like this on the skinny. So they took off and headed east to Shelby or Chester. At least they have a hardy tailwind with them. Good luck guys and email me your progress – be safe.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I got in my room and got set up and then went to Pizza Hut for the salad buffet. Then came back here and have been working ever since. The weather has indeed taken a turn for the worse and now it’s raining pretty good outside. You can see the storms out here coming in from just massive miles away, so it’s pretty cool looking out the window and seeing these things rolling in from the north. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Tell you what though, when I get up from my chair my legs are just so stiff and tired. Man, I really need some legs for the next 12 days, as that’s what I think it will take me to get to Seattle. I’m going to shoot for East Glacier at the very least tomorrow, 47 miles away, and Essex at the best, probably another 25 miles west. Essex is just over the first mt pass. Again, weather will pretty much control my day – be it long or be it short. I’d kind of like to do smaller chunks across the rest of Montana so I can stop more often and take pictures. Then in Washington, I’ll get it cranked back up again in mileage for the finish. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Hoping for fresh legs and a good day tomorrow. All the best…..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-14866928227898386812010-07-18T15:23:00.000-07:002010-07-18T15:24:18.324-07:00Every east to west numskull gets his bone once in a while<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-18-10 Day 43: Havre, Montana to Shelby, Montana: 103 miles in 6:25 hours all on Rt. 2 West.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Once again every once in a while Mother Nature throws me a bone on this ride. Today that bone was the femur! Yup, wind out of the northeast at 10-15 mph.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>But first just a little flashing back. I reall had a great time visiting with Ken and Kim in Havre yesterday. Wish we could have spent just a bit more time hanging out, but I had to keep moving west and they had to head back north to Edmonton. We’ll definitely be hanging out again. Now Havre is the biggest place I’d been to since Williston, ND, and that was like five days before. Nothing but this little towns in between the two. So when I arrived in Havre it was like a culture shock to me – a city! And the thing that I was the most taken aback with were the pick-up trucks. Now this is Montana, and I guess this is where men are really men and trucks are really trucks. The pick-ups in Havre are on a massive dose of steroids. I mean these things are just totally laid out and beefy. They must be dropping 40, 50, 60+ G’s on these machines. Their almost all diesel, and they are just loaded with power, so much that when they get going these things just whine like hell. They sound as loud as freaking Harley Motorcycles. They’re usually on lifts and just decked with these massive exhaust systems. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So while I was waiting for Ken and Kim to show at the Havre RV place I was just sitting and watching these trucks go up and down the strip. It was like they were all on parade, like roosters in a chicken coop just strutting and showing their stuff. The light would turn green and these monsters would accelerate and damned near lift the front end off of the street they were so freaking powerful. And it was all makes and models of American trucks. No one brand stood out. Anyway, I think Havre should be nicknamed Pick-up Truck World. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Last night I was just flaming tired, and must have hit the hay at about 9 PM, only putting in about an hour of work on the computer before I had to crash. I decided I’d just sleep a bit later because I had a 60-mile ride to do today, and I was not going to get up and be on the road before 5 AM. Needed an extra hour of sleep. So I got up this morn at 5 AM rather than 4. Looked out the wind at the trees – and the leaves were a blowing! Which way I wasn’t sure, but they were blowing. Forced down a bagel and a half with PBJ and that was it. I just cannot really chow bigtime in the morn. Almost had to force the stuff down. From here on in, I’m going to get yogurt and fruit. That’s much easier to get down at 4 and 5 AM. It’s like when I’m up that early in the morn, I have zero appetite. Usually eat around 8 or 9, so this 4 and 5 stuff has got my system goofed up.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got on the road at app. 5:45 AM. No PR today! And when I cycled out on to Rt 2…….wind out of the northeast, a bloody cross tailwind! Now that’s a good way to start the day when you’re riding east to west. So I was thinking that instead of spending like 6 hours to go 60 miles to Chester, it may take me like 4 or 5 – an easy day for sure. And the wind was moderate, providing a good push. But today, even the wind with me would push me up all these super duper long gradual false flats. On the flats I could go a solid 14-15 mph with my gear. But on these false flats, I’d sink down to 12-13, maybe 14 mph. A couple times I looked at my tires thinking that maybe I was flatting because the pedaling was so damned hard – with the cross tailwind!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now Ken had told me that I was pedaling up all through eastern Montana as I was heading west to the mts. And that makes sense. It’s like from the Mississippi River to the Rockies of Colorado, you’re actually climbing ever so slowly until you get to Denver and you’ve gained several thousand feet in elevation. Same thing here. Except I bloody well felt it each and every mile. I could see traffic just coming up over a horizon line or disappearing over a horizon line, and then I’d get up to that point and see that the road ever so subtly stair steps up again for another couple of miles. Well, it would do this for 5-8 miles at a crack. So I could not get a really good rhythm going with that cross tailwind.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Yea, I know, bitch, bitch, bitch. Never perfect. And that’s true. So I just tried to enjoy what I was given and that was that. Would have loved FLAT, FLAT, but it was FALSE FLAT and I had the wind at my back for once. So life was good, despite my displeasure with this king of all false flats roadway. Early in my start I had the road all to myself for the first hour or two. And being a Sunday, even when 9 AM rolled around the traffic was still pretty light. The berm would go for 6 feet wide with a rumble strip to this ridiculous 3 foot berm with the rumble strip on the right side. Who was the Eisenstein Engineer who thought that one up?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">About 8 miles outside of Chester those false flats all culminated in a super long gradual descent into town. I was doing like 26 mph for 5 miles at least and then I popped into Chester. Made it there in 4 hours on the nose. Now prior to Chester I was mulling over the idea of going for the green and shooting for Shelby – another 41 miles west. That would give me over 100 miles for the day. Mentally and physically I just wanted to crash in Chester, but with that rare cross tailwind, I really felt that I had to take advantage of it. I mean that could be the difference between riding those 41 miles at 14-15 mph today, or waiting until tomorrow and take a chance of having the wind out of the west again and grinding me down to a mere 10-11 mph. So I had decided that I’d get to Chester and see if the wind was still holding as a cross tail. If it was I just had to keep the train rolling. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">My average for getting to Chester was an amazing 14.8 mph. Much to my surprise what with the gazillion miles of false flat climbing involved. Yup, I was going on to Shelby. Hell, it was only 9:45 AM when I arrived. I felt duty bound to keep riding. So I hit a little grocery and got a fountain coke and ice and a couple of breakfast burritos. Munched down in about 15 minutes and then was back on the bike. And the good thing was that the wind had picked up. And once I was rolling I was amazed to be doing 17-22 mph on some pretty long stretches. This……..was glorious! Just kept telling myself that I was almost out of the Great Plains. Time for the mountains. Time for a change. Time to get er done and make it to Seattle. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">The wind just got more and more kick to it and I as just flying. Bad thing was that I went over like 3 different patches of broken glass. I’d swear at the top of my lungs, then pull my right foot out of the pedal, slide it down in back of the front tire and let it rub off any shards of broken glass. For the rear tire, well had to do an old roadie trick that can be painfull if done wrong…..I lightly held my hand against the front of the rear tire to knock off any shards of glass. If you hold your hand back there too hard, and if a piece of glass is stuck in the tire – ouch! Got to have light hands when you do this. Now as far as I can tell no glass had penetrated the two bike tires. Couldn’t tell if the yak had any shards in it. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">And then those blooming false flats started in on me again, some seemingly going on for 5-8 miles, just stepping up and up and up. But I could keep a steady 17-18 mph on these now that the wind had picked up. No complaints. And I even toyed with the idea of getting super greedy and going for Cut Bank, another 24 miles west of Shelby. But really, I was pretty tired, and I pretty much dismissed the idea the closer I got to Shelby. All along the way I was being passed by these massively long freight trains and one Amtrack train. The RR parallels Rt 2 amost to the tee. Sometimes you’re just 10-100 yrds away from the tracks, and you can actually feel the breeze from the trains speeding by. Very cool indeed. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now I had figured on getting into Shelby at around 2 PM, but with the wind picking up, shoot I arrived in the city at 12:30 PM, knocking out 103 miles in 6:25 hours! Shelby is another one of those Plains cities where it’s just smack dab out in the middle of no where. There is a super big freight train yard here as there was in Havre. That and a gazillion trucks at this massive Travel Center. There’s a town center and then there’s the strip where there’s the Travel Center. You see Shelby is located at the intersection of Rt 2 and I-15, so this is a major gassing up/lodging point in Montana. I got a nice little cheapie efficiency and was good as gold what with a Subway just a short walk away. Got my room and hit the Subway asap for my 2 footlongs. I just love the way the workers at Subway look at me as I’m ordering and then consuming 2 footlongs in their establishment – all in the course of about 20 minutes. I mean I tear into a footer and consume it in record time.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">So…….I just love getting in a good long day and then being able to shut it down before 1 PM. That was today – done with a century by 12:30 PM. That way I have tons of time to eat, work, do laundry, nap, work, eat, drink bear, nap, eat, work, drink beer and skype. Yup, life on the road! So I’m 71 miles from the East Glacier National Park entrance. Not bad huh? So my strategy is this: let’s see what Mother Nature has in store for me. If it’s just gnarly headwind, I could opt out and just ride to Cut Bank, 23 miles away, and just where I’m supposed to be tomorrow according to my latest schedule. Today’s ride put me a half day ahead. If it’s a good day tomorrow, I could opt to ride those 71 miles to East Glacier and make that the day, putting me a full day ahead of schedule. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US">I like the fact that if it’s just terrible tomorrow, I don’t have to kill myself with a “headwind from hell” ride. So we’ll see. I have to check with weather report and at least see what’s in store for tomorrow. So that’s it for now. One way or another, I’m just a stone’s throw away from the mountains. Yup, thinking back, I’ve just ridden across about 800 miles of Great Plains and Great Headwinds. It’s been one hell of a challenge. Oh yea, and those mile markers all along the way on Rt 2, the ones that started at like 660-something when I entered Montana, well, we’re down to 280! So that’s it right now. Hope to give you good news of reaching the mts tomorrow. Late………Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-12958550310602966072010-07-17T19:58:00.001-07:002010-07-17T19:58:56.726-07:00A day with great friends<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-17-10 Day 42: Malta, Montana to Havre, Montana: 87 miles in 7:05 hours all on Rt. 2 West.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Today just goes to show that there’s no rhyme or reason to the weather out here. I got up early, and I mean super early to get a good start on the day as I had done yesterday - specifically to beat the wind. Well, this morn I got up and was on the road at 4:50, yes, yet again a new PR for departure time. And be damned of the headwind machine wasn’t just cranking from the get-go. Like I thought I had a system down here and Mother Nature just threw me an upper cut! So I got going out of Malta this morning before the sun had even crested the eastern horizon. But it was not dark, just kind of twilight, and definitely not dangerous as there was ZERO traffic on Rt 2 at that time.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Last night I had corresponded with my friends Ken and Kim from Edmonton, and they were going to meet me today at 10 AM at Chinook, then take my gear in their camper and let me ride naked on my bike to Havre to a campground Ken had prearranged for us to stay at. But when I got on the road this morning, what with the 10-20 mph northwesterly headwind, I knew that I’d made a bad call by telling Ken I’d meet them at 10 AM. Hell, all I could muster was a pitiful 10 mph into the wind, and Chinook was a good 67 miles to the west. Crushed again by the wind! So much for my scientific logic to the ways of Montana weather. Rode knowing at 10 mph that I’d be a good 1.5 hours later than I’d told them. But it is what it is. So I just got into a comfortable gear and spun into the headwind through the early morning twilight towards Chinook. It was actually quite surreal pedaling this early with the sun not even on the horizon yet, with like nothing on the road and out in the middle of freaking nowhere. I figured that Ken and Kim would either wait in Chinook or drive further east to see where I was, so I was pretty cool with the situation.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now I had another stint going through an Indian Reservation, but it was so early that I had no impact on anything. My only problem on the Indian lands is the fact that there are 100% more broken glass on the berm than in non-Indian roadways. Take that for what it is, but that’s definitely the case out here in Montana. So I just road out on the roadway, seeing that no traffic was coming or going in either direction. Now my speed was definitely better than my day from hell on Wednesday, when I could only muster like 8 mph for a high side. Today it was more like 10-11 mph, and let me tell you, that 3 mph makes a huge difference. So I spun up to and through the reservation, which was only like 30 miles across. Had plenty of water and food, so I just kept it rolling. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now the nice part was that I was anticipating meeting up with Ken and Kim, which, when you’re on your own for like a month, that’s pretty sweet hooking up with friends who feel like family. Just having their companionship for a day was really going to feel great. So I had that going for me as I was just puttering along into the wind. That and I had to revert to like going over episodes in my life, going back and rethinking and reliving episodes so that it would take my mind off of riding so slowly into that wind. I mean you just have to play these incredible mind games with yourself to get through an hour of riding. And then you do it all over again for another hour, add infinitum. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>The landscape is just the same again, with miles upon miles of open rangeland, with gradual rollers, bluffs, flats, and this openness that just makes every mile feel as though it’s 10 miles. Tell you what, when we were riding across Canada and riding a tailwind most of the way – the way you SHOULD do it – it was quite a different feel. Now, with a headwind, it just makes each mile feel soooooooooooo big. And it make me feel sooooooooooo small. But I’m going to get this thing in the bag come hell or high water. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I made it to a little convenient store just before the reservation ended where I stopped for a pop and a sandwich. This was still reservation, but on the line. It just feels so weird going through these places. I mean I’m totally with the Native Americans in that we, the white people, pretty much screwed them in a very big way. And I feel pretty self-conscious when I go through the reservations. I feel that there’s this animosity towards me and what I represent, but of course I cannot say for sure that that’s the case. The Indian population just kind of looks at you differently. And that’s how it was at the store. I had a lot of eyes just kind of checking me out. Was it my lycra cycling kit? Was it that I was a white? Was it both? Don’t know, but there’s definitely an underlying “thing” going on. A “vibe.” You can feel it. I did not feel threatened. I was not hassled. But I felt this vibe. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I rode out of the reservation and passed through Harlem, Montana and just up the road I see this camper kind of due a U-turn in the road. And I pedaled closer and by gosh it was Ken and Kim. They pulled off and I saw Kim wave to me. Now they had come about 20 miles further east to meet me than we had arranged. GOLDEN! We hugged and they asked if I wanted to throw my yak and panniers in their camper? DONE. So new plan was to ride to Chinook, about 20 miles west, hook up again, and then ride another 20 miles west to Havre. And man, got that junk in their camper and got going and it was like I had to learn to ride again. Felt just amazing. Now I was able to bump up the speed from 10-11 mph to 14-15 mph – quite a difference when you’re talking riding for 5-7 hours. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>The wind was still there, still blowing like hell, but man, without all that weight it was just fantastic. So I kept it rolling into Chinook. Got there but I did not see them parked at a motel or any of the gas stations. I figured that they just took it on in to Havre, so I continued to pedal west. And like all of a sudden the wind really died down, didn’t shut off, but died down significantly. So I was able to crank it up to the 16 mph area. Glorious! Still had to alternate in and out of the saddle all the way to Havre, but hell, this was a cake walk compared to pulling gear. Ended up hitting Havre in just a smidge over 7 hours for 87 miles. Now if it weren’t for Ken and Kim I’d of bagged it in Chinook for sure. So I got an extra 20 miles out of the day, and it made my day to Chester and Cut Bank that much easier. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Pulled into the Havre RV Campground that Ken had told me he made reservations at and then scouted the grounds for their camper – not there. Ok, I’ve been through this one before where support vehicle and rider/s are off cue. So I went into registration and found that this was indeed the place where Ken and Kim had camped the night before, so I just bought a coke and muffin and waited at the entrance gate. I figured that they or me had missed one another at Chinook, and eventually they’d figure that I’d ridden to meet them at the RV campground in Havre. Sat there for about an hour and then they pulled in. We gathered at their campsite and just feasted on sandwiches and Rickerd’s Red beer – several! It was just so cool to hook up with these folks again, people who I thought I’d never see again, and now I was having lunch with them in Montana. Very cool, no just totally incredible on their part to go out of their way to meet up with me on their vacation time. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now Ken bless his soul had pre-paid for a camping site for me at their campground,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>but it turns out that it was not where all the RV’s were, nope, the tent camping was like in back of this big gas station/grocery/casino, along a big fence between the RR tracks. And I scoped it out and even asked the registration gal if I could just camp by their camper. No go she said. I had to use the little devil strip in back of the station/store/casino. That got the wheels turning as to what to do. I didn’t like the fact that I couldn’t camp next to Ken and Kim, and I kind of didn’t like the fact that I’d have to be wedged in between Rt 2 and the Amtrack RR line. To make a long story short I got Ken a refund on the camp fee he’d so graciously paid out, and found an efficiency a block away for like 32 bucks. Life was good. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Then Ken took me in this little casino and bought me 2 big oil can beers as we talked for a good hour at the bar. It was just great reminiscing with Ken about the Trans Canada trip and our short time together in Edmonton. And here we were, a year later, sharing a part of our lives again. Many great memories. Well, I went back to my efficiency worked for a bit and then met Ken and Kim at a steakhouse for dinner. Had great meals, with me kind of eating everything not nailed down and then it was time to say goodbye - again. Man, these are some awesome people! You know, for all the pictures and places I’ve seen on these trips, it’s the fact that I’ve met people like Ken and Kim, and Barney and Val. Those are friendships that are just very special. We all have this bond. Ken and Kim - I love you guys. Take care and have a very safe trip back to Edmonton. I WILL see you down the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Tomorrow I hope to make Chester with a 61-mile day. Could be easy, could be a bitch. Let’s see what Mother Nature has in store for me. Getting closer to the Rockies, just three rides away! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Take care all……..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-72036492991630597422010-07-16T14:32:00.001-07:002010-07-16T14:32:58.021-07:00Early start to beat the heat & wind<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-16-10 Day 41: Glasgow, Montana to Malta, Montana: 72 miles in 4:54 hours all on Rt. 2 West. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">No, that was not a misprint. I did indeed do 72 miles at over 14 mph for an average. I’m super stoked to have made a good move what with the heat and the wind being a big factor today. This will be a short blog because it was about as uneventful as they come. My strategy was to get up super early and get on the road super early to beat the predicted 96-degree heat for the day and the predicted west/northwest winds at 15-20 mph. So I went to bed at 9:30 PM and got up at about 3:55 AM so I could leave as the sun was just cresting the eastern horizon. By 4:10 AM I had brewed my coffee and was making a PBJ bagel. Got packed while I ate and was locking the efficiency door at about 4:50 AM. Riding at 5 AM – new PR for a start. Got to have those PR’s right?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>The temp was nice and cool, about 57 degrees with just the faintest of a breeze, almost dead calm. I had my long sleeved jersey on and it felt just right, just a tad cool as I cruised out of Glasgow. Not a car on the road. I mean it was just paradise. Half hour in and no wind. I felt as though each and every half hour I could get in before the wind machine cranked up, the sooner I beat the monster heat of the day, which up here, keeps getting hotter up into the 5-6 PM area. The heat just builds all day long. About that time the sun was trying to pop up in the easy, casting this massively long shadow of me on my bike riding on the desolate road. I mean I was almost riding with a sense of urgency, trying to get in every precious mile before the wind kicked in. I almost felt that feeling I used to get prior to a big race, the heightened sense of awareness, the jittery feelings, the anxiousness, the pumping heart. All that was there this morning as I rode west. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now it took the sun just a little longer to get at me what with the bluffs kind of keeping it at bay. For the most part the road was pretty flat, with a gradual roller every once in a while as I crossed a draw or dry creekbed. Got to remember that I’m pretty much paralleling the Missouri River on my left way off to the south, so there is some small drainages that flow into it. But mostly these creeks were dry or extremely small. An hour in and the sun was almost over the eastern horizon and I’d gotten from a starting speed of like 13 mph to a whopping 16-17 mph. I had to look behind me just to make sure I wasn’t getting a tailwind. But nope, that was all just little old me cycling in this dead calm. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Yet that sense of urgency was just always there, with me scoping out the individual plants on the side of the road to see if they were starting to bend with a emerging wind. But nothing. Just a stellar morning of riding, and the road all to myself for the second hour. And before I could look down I was through the first of two small towns along the way, this one by the name of Hinsdale, which was 29 miles from Glasgow, and I’d done it in under two hours. Next up was the little town of Saco, about 14 more miles down the road. I didn’t think for a minute that I’d get to Saco before the wind machine kicked in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But I just kept on cranking in the 15-17 mph range, just feeling great and totally amazed that I was going so fast. I mean this was TWICE as fast as my last ride on Wed, there I was just creeping at 7-8 mph for an average. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Traffic picked up just a bit as I went on, and I eventually got on the berm and rode the just slightly less than optimum road surface. The trafficked lane to the left of the white line was pretty pressed down and polished, and I could definitely feel about a half a mile per hour faster average on that end. But with the traffic picking up just a bit I thought it prudent to take the mph loss for the safety. With the rumble strip I still have about 3 feet of riding surface on the berm. It’s just all the gravel, the small rocks and the occasional glass that I have to dodge while in there. Not bad, but it just take one piece of glass and the whole show stops for a bit. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Three hours in and I unzipped my long sleeve jersey as the temp was definitely up in the mid to high 60’s. Also hit a stretch where there were a few pretty long gradual climbs that had me OTS and working a bit. Passed a single cyclist going east, and I though, “yea I may be the dummy crossing east to west, but I have less than 1000 miles to go! I’ll take my position right now wind or no wind.” Got to the town of Saco and saw a group of cyclists just getting their gear packed up. They must have camped right across the street from this little quick shop store in Saco, about the only thing in this 20-30 home, blink and you’re through it town. Still, no wind. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>And it couldn’t have been like 5 minutes after I noted that there was no wind, that the wind just like suddenly appeared. Like out of nowhere it started cracking, every so slightly. Could tell not only because me effort of 15-17 had gone down to 14 mph, but also could hear the wind in my right ear again, like it was blowing out of the northwest. Yup, it was back, but you know what, I didn’t really give a hoot, hell I was just 17 miles from Malta! “Blow you *^&$#)(^ blow”, I thought, “I’m damned near there.” And the amazing thing was that it was at like 8:45 AM, and I’d ridden over 50 miles. I was on target to do darned near the same mileage as I had on Wednesday, but in about 3.5 hours less time! And over that last 2 hrs the wind just continued to get stronger as a headwind. Yea, “IT”S BACK!” Down to 13 mph and then 12 mph as the wind continued to get stronger. The temp was definitely up more to, probably in the mid 70’s by that point. But great thing was that I was going to finish by about 10 AM or a little after. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Hit a few more long graduals and I could start to see signs of civilization again. I’d been riding through these massive stretches of nothing but rangeland, where cattle instead of crops now dominate the landscape. It’s big and it’s desolate, and it’s pretty cool to be riding a bike across a place like this. As I’ve said before, kind of make you feel pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And you really have to schedule your stops accordingly. Now I had 4 water bottles on board, and with the early start I just decided to go without a stop today in Hinsdale or Saco, but they at least had little quick shop stores or a gas station. But lodging, that’s a different story. They’re like every 60-70 miles. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I had gotten a little greedy back around Saco, thinking that maybe if the wind held off I could make Havre, some 84 miles from Malta. But that was a pipedream, hammering out 140 miles on a day that was supposed to hit 96 degrees was not smart. Nope it was a layup, especially with these super long distances between towns, and then with the wind actually picking up in speed I knew that Malta was the right move. Havre would be possible tomorrow if I could get the same kind of start. So I just continued on with Malta as my ironclad destination for the day as planned. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>More and more civilization in sight and I knew I’d gotten away with a pretty easy day. I arrived in Malta at 10 AM, with 72 miles in the tank in 4:54 hours. Got a little efficiency from a sweet 70-something year old woman by the name of Martha. She gave me a room off of the road so I could sleep if I wanted, and offered up a library of DVD’s in the office if I wanted to watch a movie later. Got in my room and it’s a nice, tidy little place. Martha adds these nice little touches by putting in like little fake flower baskets and a nice, home made drape on the window. I like these little mom and pop places. They really do try to make you stopover a comfortable experience. If I were camping here in Malta, it would be a freaking furnace, so hot that I couldn’t even enter the tent. Nope this little room is just the cat’s meow! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Walked down to the Albersons grocery store and grabbed some frozen stuff for my brunch and my dinner later on. No Subway here in Malta, just a DQ, and I’m not into DQ stuff today. I snagged some yogurt, bananas, and some frozen dinners…..and some Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia…….and a sixer of the Moose Drool Nut Brown Ale! I’m set. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Came back and just crashed for two hours with the AC on. Man was I tired. Feel ok now, and may even go out and take some pics later. The wind has gotten to its full 15-20 mph strength by now, at 3 PM MST, and the heat…..well, I washed my kit in the sink and set it out on a plastic chair to dry, and they were dry in one bloody hour! It’s hot. Tomorrow the temp is supposed to be down around 85, and the wind about the same, so I’m going to go with the same strategy as today – early start, early finish. Want to get to at least Chinook, round about 60-some miles west, or best case if the wind holds off, to Havre, about 84 miles west. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US">Late………Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-25516000314169495842010-07-15T16:16:00.000-07:002010-07-15T16:17:17.291-07:00A day to recharge<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-15-10 Day 40: Off day in Glasgow, Montana: <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Forgot to tell you, yesterday, I saw 3 groups of two cyclists going west to east, and a single cyclist going west to east. NO ONE is stupid enough to do what I’m doing. So this last group of two that I was passing by, they actually stopped and their side of the berm and watched me, and then started clapping. That totally stoked me for a bit, sending goosebumps all over my body, and getting me motivated for a good half hour more of riding before the dull ache of mental anguish set in again. That was very, very cool. This route 2 gets a lot of cycling traffic going cross country.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Ok, so today. Well, I was totally rocked yesterday. My legs were sore to the touch, my low back was sore, shoulders sore and arms sore. I must have stretched the legs and back out for about 45 min. Went to bed 9:30 PM after just sucking down those ice cold beers. Well, woke up at about 3:30 AM, and man I was just beat, thinking, “wow, got to get up in just over an hour to pack and get on the road.” And then this little voice in my head starting chanting, “off day, off day, off day.” Heck yes. I just kind of turned over and thought, nope, I’m getting a good 9 hrs sleep in and enjoying a day off. Hell, I’d just put 3 days of riding into two very gnarly days. So that was that, I was a day ahead of where I wanted to be. Woke at a leisurely 8 AM. Legs still really stiff and sore. Re-upped for another night here at the La Casa and then went across the street to a coffee bar and grabbed a dbl Red Eye and came back to the room to work on the computer for a few hours. Got a ton done, then waltzed over to a little casino for a breakfast, that place recommended by the motel owner. And he was right, it was just the best little greasy spoon. Got this massive Western Omelet that was as big as a plate. That and this monster side of hash browns and some toast, and I was just in hog heaven. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Came back to the motel and took a nap for nearly 2 hours. I mean I crashed hard. Felt just stellar not to be grinding for a day. Now the wind was light and out of the southwest at 5-15, and I really didn’t notice it a bit first thing in the morning when I got the coffee, but later, it definitely picked up – but nowhere, and I mean a capital NOWHERE like yesterday. Forecast is for a good week, with the wind out of the southwest and maybe even the southeast. But tomorrow is going to be 93 degrees, so I’ll have to get going by like 5:30 AM just to not to have to ride in 93 degrees with a light cross headwind. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I map-quested my route from here to Seattle and it came out to 938 miles. Damn, to me that sounds like NOT a whole lot. I have 3042 miles on my cyclocomputer right now, so I’m over three-fourths of the way done. I think I can finish by 7/31. Still have the Rockies, but heck, I’ll welcome that compared to grinding away on the flats into a headwind day after day as I have been ever since Crookston, MN. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Well, it’s short today. I’m going to hit Subway for a footlong Cold Cut Combo and a footlong Seafood Salad + some Ben & Jerry’s icecream for a snack this eve. It’s now about 88 degrees at 5 PM with about a 15 mph westerly. Definitely need to get rolling at 5:30 tomorrow morning. This was one day where I felt zero remorse for taking a day off, this and the day in Bismarck. Time to vegg!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Have a great evening all…….Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-49670891068866863982010-07-14T16:57:00.000-07:002010-07-14T17:00:07.282-07:00The wind and the suffering<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-14-10 Day 39: Poplar, Montana to Glasgow, Montana: 72 miles in 8:32 hours. Rt 2 west the whole day.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Going to tell you something…..I’ve done Ironman triathlons; I’ve gone nearly 28 mph for a 40K TT with a brain just totally numb from the pain; and I’ve suffered like a dog mentally in several “bad” marathons, doing everything I could do just to finish the damn thing – forget the PR! Today ranks right up there with the above mentioned - from a mental standpoint. I’ll tell you, it took all I had to force myself to mentally not crack from today. The weather reports was for a “windy” day, and that was brought home on the Weather Channel by that little windy icon for today’s forecast. I was prepared to buck up and have a tough day, but what I endured was beyond that with the headwind. The wind was out of the west/northwest at 15-22 mph with gusts of 35 mph! Yes, thirty five freaking miles per hour gusts.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I got up early today so I could get an really early start so as to maybe beat the wind, which seems to get worse and worse as the day goes on. So I was up at 4:50 AM and on the bike at 5:40 AM, a new PR for getting on the bike in the morning – yes us sports schleps always seem to tag something with PR! I had eaten 3 peanut butter/jelly bagels for fuel. So I got out on a cool morning where the temp was 53 degrees. Then, like some kind of ditz, I got muddled up and road around the town of Poplar trying to get back on Rt 2 west. God, this place is just unbelievable , what with the really gnarly housing and these “wild” dogs sleeping in the streets and just roaming all over the place barking. I had one chase me and I put it down getting the hell down the road. Finally got oriented right and west I went – into an already stiff headwind. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Two miles down the road I knew that today was going to either totally break me or totally make me. That wind was just neverending and in your face ferocious. Was all I could do to maintain a 9-10 mph average while trying not to cook myself. And I’d have to alternate with in the saddle in like 3 different positions – low, upright, and seat forward – and then when my arse was just totally sore, out of the saddle for like a half mile to a mile at a crack. Started out using the cog that was about 4<sup>th</sup> from the top. Two hours in I had to concede and to the 3<sup>rd</sup> from the top and back down to an average of 8-9 mph. I hit the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>town of Wolf Point about 2.5 hrs in, and I’ll tell you what, if it were like noon, I’d of bagged it right then and there – a total cop out but the wind was just sucking the energy of of my legs like a bloody vacuum sweeper. But, having started at 5:40 AM, it was only 8:15 AM when I pulled into town, and the weather looked good – other than the fact that the wind was just howling out of the west/northwest. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>And honestly, I really wanted to see if I could actually deal with that wind for a 72-mile day. So I stopped at a quick shop and got a Dr. Pepper and some ice water, and like a NASCAR pit crew, I was off and back on the bike in 10 minutes. The sign in town said that<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Glasgow was 49 miles away, and a smaller town, Nashua, was 35 miles away. Took a big swallow and on I went, doing the math in my head, and figuring that I’d be in the saddle anywhere from 7-10 hours, based on how much worse the wind would get. And man did it get worse, much worse. Soon I was just struggling at 8-9 mph, so I bumped it up to yet another easier gear. Now my average was 7-8 mph. It got so bad that I started doing anything to NOT think or dwell on the wind. I started singing out loud, at one time singing the Ballad of the Edmund Fitzgerald, where I changed the lyrics to “Does anyone know where the love of God goes when the WIND turns the minutes to hours.” And it did. Between my cyclo computer and the mile markers, I just had to NOT look at either. The singing got me going for a while, and then I started thinking back to the beginning of my trip and trying to go over each day of cycling to try to pass the time and take my head out of the wind game. That worked to. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Made it through another little town, the town of Fraser, where I was planning on getting a coke and a cookie or something, but this was another gnarly little town on the reservation and I did not want to turn off of Rt 2, which is what you had to do to get there, and go test the waters of the place. So I just kept riding and was hoping that I could make it up to Nashua. And again, always doing math in my head for getting to the destinations. And what with Nashua being 35 miles from Wolf Point, I had figured that it would take me 4 hours at 8 mph to get to Nashua. Yup, 4 hours to go 35 miles – actually more than 4 hours! But I just looked at it as if it were 4. And in the town of Fraser, I was just two hours into that four hours. “When the wind turns the minutes to hours,” I kept repeating to myself. I was just determined to not let the headwind get into my head like it had done a couple of times last year when crossing Canada. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>My alternating in and out of the saddle became a kind of game I started playing, going like a mile ITS and then a mile OTS, but I wasn’t using the mile markers, I was just kind of guesstomating it. Another hour went by and the wind continued to pick up, again forcing me into the easiest cog in the back, and down to like a 6.5-7.5 mph average. When I’d go OTS, I could actually go faster, putting it in a big gear and just slowly plodding along with these big lopping pedal strokes. My new goal was a 7 mph average for the rest of the day, so between ITS and OTS I was hoping it would add up. About 3.5 hrs into that four hours to Nashua, I was just really starting to feel like my legs were beaten to a pulp, the quads were sore and my low back and shoulders were sore from the OTS riding. My thumbs were even going numb from putting pressure on the grips when OTS. Man I needed a stop. Now I was prepared to stop if need be and grab some stuff out of my manbag, but I really wanted to just park the bike and sit down and collect myself for a bit with an ice cold coke and some grub, so I kept pedaling to Nashua. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>It just seemed like it would never appear, and as the miles ticked off the wind continued to pick up in intensity. There were these gusts that would just hit me like a wall, where I’d have to get out of the saddle and just crank like hell to maintain a silly 6 mph – on the flats! I mean I was literally laughing out loud at how insane it was, how insane I WAS to do this ride. Finally saw some buildings up a slight roller and about two miles away. And it seems that whenever you really want to end something and take a break, that the wind just howls like a witch, like it’s out to make your life so damned difficult for that last stretch, to make you suffer more than anything for just a little longer. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now Nashua is the end of the Indian Reservation, and I was pretty good with that, and at that line was a little dinner. DONE. I was off and parked and walked in there like I’d just taken a couple of shots to the head by Mike Tyson. I mean I was just totaled. The waitress gave me a couple of glasses of ice water and then a fountain coke. I’d done that 35 miles in 4:15 hrs! Sounds totally crazy, but that’s no joke – and I was DAMNED happy with it. I ordered the special: Burger of choice and side dish. Got a macaroni salad with the burger and consumed in like 15 min, just enough to not loose much time, but enough to get a bit of a break from the wind and rest my legs, arms, shoulders, butt, neck…….pretty much my whole body. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Some folks in the booth next to me asked where I was going and I told them Glasgow for the day. And they said it wasn’t far, just 14 miles up the road. I told them with the wind that 14 miles could very well be 1000. Figured that it would take me 2 hours at 7 mph. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Got rolling again, but this time I was counting down the mile markers. The gusting was just crazy hard, and very frequent by this time of the day, forcing me to a mere 5 mph in the saddle and 6 mph out of the saddle. In, out, in, out, just following the mile markers going a mile in and a mile out. And I counted them markers down, one at a time. By the time I got to 3 miles to go I really felt like I’d accomplished something huge. I mean physically this was just brutal, but it was the mental component that was even tougher. Finally rolled into Glasgow and hit a downhill and saw a sign for this motel, an efficiency called the La Casa. DONE. Thirty five bucks for the same gig as usual: regrig, microwave, coffee maker and some coffee. Good deal, and I was just flamed. Showered for about 30 min, just standing in there and soaking up the hot water rolling down my beaten body. I did the ride in a totally ridiculous 8:32 hours. Now the guy at the motel told me that this was the most vicious wind they’ve had here in a month. Ok, I’m good with getting that one under the belt, and doing like 2-3 of these kinds of days in a row…..NOT! Don’t know if my mind and body could do it. So I was really glad to hear that this is not the norm. Now I obviously expect headwinds, but 35 mph gusts – that’s just unreal to ride in for 8 plus hours. Went to Subway and ordered 2 foolongs. Finished 1.5 and took the extra .5 back to the motel for later. Also picked up a sixer for later. When I finish this blog and after I talk to Judy, it’s beer-thirty for sure. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Tomorrow – Malta, a 70-mile day, hopefully with winds that are much tamer. I can deal with the 10-15 mph stuff where I average 11 mph. But today? Wow, I’m praying that the wind dies down. Getting up again for an early departure, and hoping to do about the same time as yesterday because the temp is supposed to go up to 85. Well, that’s it. I’m going to just be a total load, laying in the bed and vegging on the cable. All the best……Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-45280846162736547202010-07-13T16:49:00.000-07:002010-07-13T16:50:02.020-07:00Big Sky - Big Wind<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-13-10 Day 38: Williston, ND to Poplar, Montana: 77 miles in 6:46 hours. Rt 2 west the whole day.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Whew! Another day of taking my dose of ass kicking by the headwind. Today it was out of the northwest at up to 15-20mph. First I’d like to thank Mark and Sue for their hospitality. They were just wonderful hosts, making me feel so at home for a day’s stay in Williston. Their kids are just great, all four girls, all involved in some form of sports, and all very well mannered and polite to the tee. Great family. Mark served up some burgers from the grill and tuned me into several Red Stripes for refreshments. Sue had made some muffins, a fruit salad and some raw veggies. Fed like a king! The evening ended with the celebration of their daughter Riley’s B-Day. So I had some B-Day cake and then off to bed for another early riser in the morning. Again…..thanks so much Mark and Sue!!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Slept awesome and got up at 5 AM, quietly putting my gear together and getting ready to roll at 6:30. Mark got up and wished me well, and after a couple of bananas and a bagel & peanut butter I was on my way. It had rained, actually thunderstormed last night several times so the morning temp was quite nice. Now Mark and I had been watching the weather reports for the next few days and he told me that this day looked good and they had downgraded the winds, from like 20 or so mph to abut 10-15 out of the northwest. So I left knowing that I had some serious wind for the day. But when I started it was just a faint breeze. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Took the business Rt 2 out of town and I probably should have just backtracked and taken the truck route out of town because it seemed as though I got a complete north, south, east and west tour of the town, to finally head west into the nothingness. Already the oil folks were just hustling and bustling all the hell over the place. Mark had told me last night that in Williston they just cannot provide enough infrastructure to keep up with the mass influx of new people. Told me they still need thousands of new workers to keep up with the boom. Most of the traffic I saw was turning onto two routes: Rt 85 south and Rt 1804, both of which are two of the potential cycling routes I was going to ride on on my way to cycling through the ND Badlands. I mean it was just lines of trucks turning off of Rt 2 and onto these roads. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So these routes took care of a good bit of the traffic on Rt 2, but still, there were oodles of gas wells and derricks and storage towers along the road, right along with the truck traffic to serve them. Route 2 west eventually merged to a single lane on both sides, this after nearly 500 miles of dbl lane roads and the berm from heaven I had been riding on. The berm on the single lane dwindled down to about 3-4 feet, and was still filled with all sorts of red gravel and sand that they pour into the well areas. It’s a pain in the ass to have to watch for that stuff because it’s pretty sharp edged if you hit a big chunck, and could just possibly slit a tire. And along with the road gravel were the gradual climbs up and down the road. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>After about an hour and a half, and without even a welcome sign or any kinds of fireworks or marching bands I entered Montana. And looking at that first mile marker sign was a sobering experience: 668 mile mark! Freaking outrageous ouch. Long, long state indeed, and about 400 miles of that is flat and rolling high plains with a headwind – my future for the next week. Almost immediately I hit road construction where the berm was totally gone and where there were several flagger points where the traffic was stopped and pilot cars were ushering traffic east and west. Since I was on a bike I was allowed to proceed with care. In places the road was just a total mess, bumpy crap with loose gravel. And …….the wind was picking up. My progress through this section was just pitifully slow. That’s about the time I saw a group of cyclists riding by, a group of women who were participating in a Tour De Cure ride from where I don’t know to where I don’t know. They had a support truck and the whole gig. Up ahead I some gals changing a flat. Stopped to see if they were ok, and indeed they were. They thanked me and I cycled on into what was now a pretty tough headwind and out of the construction area, where the berm was a measly 3 feet wide. Good thing was that the traffic was really, really light. Hardly any big rumbling trucks. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>When the road would wind in just the right direction is was down to 8-9 mph. The landscape was spread out in from of me in this just amazing panorama, making me feel so freaking insignificant amidst<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>such massiveness – 668 miles of massiveness! I was thinking, “damn, this is going to be THE single biggest challenge of this trip.” “Yup, dealing with an almost daily headwind with just no cover and then looking down stretches of road where you can see nothing but horizon, it can do a real headtrip to you!” Yes, it’s Big Sky country out here, but for me it’s Big Landscape country. Save for maybe a farm here and there, it’s just limitless landscape that’s so big that it blows your mind. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Throw in the wind and you feel like you’re removing sand from a giant pile just a grain at a time. Yea, that’s how 8-9 mph feels in such a big place. Now I had kind of decided that I’d see how the weather was and ride to Culbertson if the wind was bad, or push further is the wind was good. Well, about 3 hours in I had decided on Culbertson because the wind was just relentless. The only good thing was that I had picked up an hour by riding into Montana and the Mountain Time Zone, so I was at 8:30 AM 3 hours into the ride. So I pushed on to Culbertson thinking I’d make it a mellow day – well, mellow is not the word when you’re pushing into the wind hour after hour.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Made it to Culbertson in 4 hours, and that last half hour, where I could see the town from afar, but it was still like 6-7 miles away, and into the ever increasing wind, that was tough. Checked out an efficiency but the lady said they were totally booked by the women’s bike tour I had seen. Seems that was group number one. A second group was supposed to arrive later in the day. She did make a call to Poplar to another place and asked about availability. They were good – all I had to do was ride another 30 miles into the wind. Suck it up! She gave me a couple of glasses of ice tea and said I could relax in a room for a bit if I wanted, but I just wanted to keep rolling, and not let the wind pick up even more, so I thanked her and pedaled on to Poplar. The lady also told me I could take another road to Poplar, where I’d miss some rollers. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got going and it was climbing central, and headwind central. The lady at the motel had told me I’d go five miles and then take a left on Hwy 1. So I climbed up and down and got worked by the headwind at the same time. Actually started to feel ok from the Dr Pepper I bought and the two ice teas the lady had given me. Felt reinvigorated actually, and started thinking of going for the gold and trying for Wolf Point, another 20 miles past Poplar. Yea, kind of hemmed and hawed about Poplar V Wolf Point. And as usual, when the wind was just ferocious, it was Poplar. When it was it had temporarily mellowed out, it was Wolf Point. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got to the turn-off the lady told me about …….but there was a sign that read: Rough road ahead. NOPE. I’ll take the hills rather than take a chance on some garbled up piece of crap road where I get my eyeballs jittered right out of their sockets. Give me them there rollers!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Now I’m riding in an Indian reservation right now, and it’s about 100 miles in length, and the first town I passed was Brockton, and it was kind of a shabby little place. Kept it rolling. By the time that Hyw 1 rejoined Rt 2 the rollers ceased and it was just super easy false flats and just plain flat – BUT with a 15 mph headwind. Yea, you can just call me MR. Headwind at the end of this trip. I need to have my head examined for challenging myself to this east to west gig! I bloody have nightmares of these gale force headwinds just picking me up and taking me all the way back to Ohio. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So 20 miles down through Brockton, and 13 to go to Poplar. Did the 20 in about 1:30 hours. Figured on another 1:10 hours to get to Poplar. By noon, the winds had really picked up and my progress was grinding down to a slow, plodding, snail’s pace. Yup, poplar it was – no way was I going to fight for another 20 miles from Poplar to Wolf Point. And that decision was cemented on the final stretch to Poplar, where I could see the town’s water towers from like 7-8 miles away, but the wind was just brutal, making it seem as if I was seeing a mirage. Slowly, painfully I approached those damned water towers, and then on the final stretch, like the last 2 miles, the wind almost seemed to have a mind of its own, and a deviant one at that, where it was really gusting. That was a monster stretch.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Arrived into town and hit the Jolly Swagman Inn. Yup, I’m not making this up. Looks like a minimum security prison, but surprisingly it’s a dynamite place, what with a flat screen TV, microwave, regrig. Nice place. The lady was just wonderful, welcoming me to Montana and kind of giving my direction on how to go about my business in a reservation community – keep bike gear inside (like I never do that?) don’t wander around after dark, and just be friendly. She said we’re very good here, but that some of the folks out here get a bit tippsy at night, so just don’t go bar hopping or night exploring in Poplar! Hell, I was just torched so taking a tour of the town was like way down on the “must do” list. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Walked a block to the grocery and picked up a bunch of frozen dinners for lunch and then dinner. She had told me that there’s a restaurant in town, but that the service sucks – they just don’t care. So I opted to do my own gig here in the efficiency. Came back with 2<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>hungry man frozen dinners that I heated up, and then had two of these cup of soup ramen noodle things. Got PBJ for later also. So I’m pretty set in my little prison motel. All is good. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Today I made up a half day on my schedule through Montan, so tomorrow I hope to make another longish ride to make up another half day – to give me a full day ahead of Montana schedule. I’ll shoot for the town of Glasgow, about 68-70 miles from Poplar, and out of the reservation. Bad thing is that the wind is expected to be out of the west at 22 mph! This could be another toughie, and I’ll get on the road at 6 AM just to try to get a jump on the always increasing winds. They tend to max out at around noon to one. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>That’s it from Big Sky country. Late……..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-14523198942823653662010-07-12T14:27:00.000-07:002010-07-12T14:28:56.240-07:00Knocking on Montana's door<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-12-10 Day 37: Stanley, ND to Williston, ND: 72 miles in 5:23 hours. Rt 2 west the whole day.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Before I go over today let me finish off with yesterday. I kind of left you after I’d come back from the grocery. Well, Arden came back to the barn to work on a thermometer to put up in his yard, and then asked if I’d like to join him on has Case Scout 4-wheeler for a tour of his old property he’d sold to the oil company and to go over and check on his horses at a friend’s property. I was totally cool for driving around in this enclosed, decked out to the nines 4-wheeler. I mean this thing is probably as expensive as a freaking Ford Fiesta, and it can traverse 4 feet of snow, ponds, mud pits, and ascend 45-degree hills! So I jumped in with my camera and off we went, zooming down the gravel roads of Stanley. Along the way he showed me all the petroleum development along the way. There were “Man Camps,” these massive complexes where the workers lived in these trailer parks. They just truck in living quarters, dining quarters, recreational quarters and plop them down on a bulldozed area and bring in the workers. He showed me a petroleum complex where they pump the oil into rail tank cars, where the building is 900 feet long and holds umpteen cars at a time. Then there are the “mud vats” that they use for the drilling muds. And there’s the miles of pipelines and pumping stations. I mean this is just on a scale that I’ve never seen before. And the whole time I’m wondering WHY it is that I had no idea that this existed in the lower 48? Again, Arden told me that this part of ND is the “Saudi Arabia” of America.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>The roads are just smashed to hell from the tankers hammering up and down. I mean you can actually see the depressions that are like craters in the roads from the heavy truck traffic. New housing is going up in Stanley as fast as they can build it. Some workers are just living in RV’s and little trailers. Others are renting in these new, prefab apartments for $1500/month! So as we’re going down this dirt road there are oil trucks left and right moving down the roads. It’s a boom for sure, and nowhere displays these changes more than the town of Stanley. Arden tells me that he used to visit the café and know everyone there. Today, he says there are probably only 2-3 faces out of the 25 each morning that he recognizes. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Farmland that typically sells for $300/acre can be purchased from the farmers by the petroleum companies for as much as $20,000-$45,000/acre. Properties and old businesses were snatched up by the petroleum companies such that now much of the commercial business in Stanley is petroleum based – anything associated with wells and drilling. We stopped at Arden’s friend’s property and Arden fed his three horses. Then he showed me his old property that the oil company purchased. This is where they put in the distribution center for filling the tanker cars with oil. Arden said they just made him an offer “he couldn’t refuse.” He sold off a chunk of his<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>acreage and made a monumental profit. Said that many a farmer has profited from the oil boom. But there’s good and bad he admitted. The roads are just shot. Not enough housing. Shoddy housing. Trailer parks. Sprawl. Pollution to the environment. From a quite little agricultural community to busy and bustling frontier town. Rumbling trucks 24-7. There’s bad with the good out here as the development outstrips their ability to keep up with it in a well thought out manner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Welcome to the oil boom of Northwestern ND! This is the new frontier, the wild west, the place where you can come to work and make some good money. There are license plates from all corners of the US here in Stanley. Many strangers in town. We have to feed our hunger for oil, and here in Stanley, ND you can see where it all begins!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I sat in the camper last night having a few beers and listening to the local radio kind of going over all that I’ve discovered about this oil boom. Yep, we have to get ourselves weaned off of foreign oil, but at what cost? Look at the Gulf Coast disaster. And then I think about what is happening out here. The oil derricks are littering the landscape. Traffic and the influx of masses of humanity are having a giant impact on these little sleepy little agricultural towns. The landscape is changing. And for me, just a passer by through this new world, the boom is so dramatic that I had to change my itinerary because I was afraid that I’d be killed on my bicycle by the oil traffic that rumbles up and down damned near every road out here. Thus, no opp to visit some to ND’s most remarkable landscapes! But I cannot be selfish about my losses, which are so fleeting, because some of these farmers who have toiled all their lives just to survive are now profiting like kings. The state of ND is in a budget surplus. There’s good and bad. What’s the answer? I’ve no clue – there’s just so many issues here!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I got up at around 6 AM this morning, and the only reason I wasn’t at my 5 AM get-up time was likely because the barn kind of deadends the light, despite the fact that Arden had put a long skylight at the top of the bay. So it kind of felt as though it was still dark outside since I’ve just been getting up with the morning light. I raced to pack my gear, and put on some coffee in his office and ate some yogurts and Danish I had bought yesterday at the grocery. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">What an awesome dude Arden was to let me have that rig last night. To end last night I just kicked back after chatting with Judy on Skype and listened to NPR Minot last evening to a program that was Native American music, kind of chanting and very relaxing music. That and a couple of brews and that was a day.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Got rolling this morning at 7 AM sharp, going down the gravel road roller coaster and back up to Rt 2 west. And off I went for Williston. Now Tammy and Tim from Bismarck had hooked me up with Tim’s relatives in Williston for a stay today, and I’d called and confirmed with Sue last night about my arrival to Williston. So I didn’t have to worry about the oil boom folks displacing me for another night. I was set with a place to stay, and that felt pretty good. The wind was out of the southwest, but let me tell you that it felt more like a tailwind than a cross headwind – for sure. That enabled me to keep it going at a nice steady 13-14 mph. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Again, miles and miles of flat prairie land as far as you can see. That and the slew of oil wells, oil derricks, oil holding tanks, oil equipment, and of course all the oil trucks rolling east and west along Rt 2. This is just amazing, and the roadway berm is like stained red in places with red rocks and red dust due to all the red dust blowing off of the tankers that had just gotten off of the gravel roads and onto the asphalt. Hell, there’s a couple of times that I saw tankers pulling off of a gravel road and onto the highway and they looked like Pigpen with a cloud of red dust flying behind them as they accelerated down the highway. I was told to look for the nuclear warhead bunkers, as they are out here along the road. Yup, the nukes that are supposed to be the BIG deterrent<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>to WW3, many of those are planted in the ground in ND. Arden told me I could take pictures of them from the road, “but don’t go near the fences,” he warned me. Well, I never saw a one of them. Maybe it was because I was too consumed with not hitting those damned red rocks that the oil company trucks have littered the berm with. They’re sharp, and could easily cause a flat if I hit one just right. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Arden had warmed me up for this big climb on the way to Williston – told me it was 4 miles long and a real biggie. Well, again, I came to the bugger but it was really just a very long gradual roller – yes Laura, a gradual roller! Nothing more. It was actually kind of fun to pedal up as I was able to maintain a good 12 mph with the cross wind behind me. Then I just put it into cruise control and pedaled on to the town of Ray for a breakfast stop. Got to Ray about 9:45 AM and went into a little dinner for food. Needed a coke for sure and then decided to sit down for a breakfast. That should get me to Williston. Ordered up a couple of eggs, hashbrowns and toast, along with a great big tall glass of fountain coke – which I refilled 3 times. The folks there, and everywhere for that matter, kind of look at me like I’m a freak with my cycling kit on. So anymore I wear my helmet in and take it off when I sit down just so they ABSOLUTELY<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>know that I’m a bike rider and not a cross dresser clad in lycra. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Had a good meal, albeit very slow service, but had a chance to talk with some of the folks in the dinner about my trip. Usually the same thing: “Where you headed,” they’ll ask. And then I tell them Seattle. “Where’d you start,” is usually next. And then I’d reply with Northern Maine. That’s about when they shake their heads in amazement. Now, almost 3000 miles in, I feel like I’ve actually ridden somewhere. Way back in NY state, well, when asked those questions I was a bit reticent about expounding on the whole story. Now, hell I’m damned near in Montana! Anyway, had a good talk with them and off I went to Williston, riding the crest of the cross wind. BUT, that cross wind was only good for 20 miles west of Ray. Then Rt 2 does this 90-degree turn to the south for the last 14 miles to Williston. So I was riding the crest on borrowed time.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">There was a stretch where my berm virtually disappeared. I mean it just vanished and I had but a tiny 1 foot berm and then gravel. NOPE. I rode to the eastbound lane and got on that 10-foot wide berm and rode for a good 10 miles until my west bound berm reappeared. No way was I riding next to those freaking oil rigs! They’re like giant vacuums as they blast by, just sucking everything into their wake. So that worked out great – riding against traffic on a giant berm. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Then the inevitable – the 90-degree into the southerly wind. It was if I’d hit a wall – an insurmountable wall at that because the road gently trended up into a gradual climb for like 2 miles. I was reduced from my 14 mph to a miserable 6-7 on that long gradual into the wind. I mean I was in the middle cookie in the giant pie plate in the back, out of the saddle just poking along on this. Got me thinking that those 14 miles into that vicious headwind could take nearly 2 hours to complete. Turns out that there were like three of those kinds of climbs. So just when I’d get to the top I’d be able to get going at 11 mph and then descend at 15 mph, and then right back into another freaking long ascent into the headwind. I think it took like 1.5 hrs to get that stretch in, and finally it flattened out and I arrived at the Williston Corp limit sign. Made it. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Sue and Mark lived about in the center of town, and just past the street I was supposed to turn left on, well, there was a Subway. I passed the turn and went straight for the Subway for my 2 footlongs. Man they hit the spot after fighting with that wind for an hour and a half. It’s just so bloody tough riding into the headwind. Takes so much more concentration and effort. So after my stuffing I rolled over to Sue and Marks. Felt some rain drops along the way, but nothing really developed. I was welcomed by their children, and there are four of them and right now I can only remember two of their names. Abby showed me the garage for my bike and yak storage, and then showed me my downstairs room that her sister Riley had graciously given up for the night. Very nice children and a very cool house. I’m in a basement bedroom that adjoins a wonderful rec room/bar/living room area that’s fully carpeted. Beyond Palatial compared to some of the efficiencies I’ve stayed in! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Then I met and talked a bit with Sue. Her and her husband Mark are avid runners – he an ultrarunner. Sounds like they were quite good not too long ago to. They are also triathletes, but this freaking truck traffic has Sue so scared that she will not go out on any of the bermless roads outside of town to ride. Just too dangerous she says. As an aside, it turns out they’re headed my way on Rt 2 west this Sunday, as they’re driving out to hike and recreate in Glacier National Park. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">Showered and doing the computer thing right now. Feel great to have a place to clean up and relax what with the crazyness of all this oil boom stuff going on outside. Williston is even more intense than Stanley! It’s like the gold rush out here. Well, I’ll sign off and put up any additional stuff on the blog tomorrow. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US">Montana here I come……….Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-91654990290302557372010-07-11T15:36:00.000-07:002010-07-11T15:37:50.734-07:00Thanks to Arden and Janis in Stanley ND<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-11-10 Day 36: Minot, ND to Stanley, ND: 60 miles in 4:43 hours. Rt 2 west the whole day. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Man, I was one tired pup from the ride yesterday. Got up really late compared to the last couple of weeks – at a recreational 6:30 AM. I decided to just get in a great night of sleep and try to recover from the heat and the distance from my Bismarck to Minot ride. Got packed and hit a gas station for a couple of muffins and a coffee and was rolling by 8 AM. Plan was to see what the weather presented and then see how I felt for my day’s itinerary. Well, the wind was light and out of the northwest and my legs felt like lifeless stumps, so I was pretty sure that I’d just lay up and shoot for Stanley rather than do a massive 130-mile grunt and go for Williston. Now there are a couple of towns west of Stanley, but they’re pretty small little guys, and still would make the for at least a 90-mile day. So I really had it in my head to shoot for a light day to Stanley where there are more amenities. Got rolling and found that the cross headwind was not really too bad, as I could at least maintain a 12-13 mph pace. Traffic on Rt 2 was pretty light this Sunday morning so I was just kind of enjoying the mellow day. This was a really flat section of landscape, with occasional rollers that I had to do in the middle ring out of the saddle. But nothing really long and gnarly. I’m now pretty used to this kind of massive landscape where you can see down the road 10-30 miles. It’s pretty wild to see like a water tower of a town and then take 40 min to an hour to ride there.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Now I did have a pretty good climb – about 1.5 miles – at the Rt 2/Rt 52 split, but again, nothing that really worked me too hard. It was just a steady out of the saddle in the middle ring. Once I got through Berthold I started to see the impact of this big oil boom up here. There were derricks and completed wells along the side of the road and these speedy oil tankers zooming east and west along Rt 2. Luckily I have this massive one-lane wide berm to ride on so I feel real comfortable with the trucks. And most of the road is in excellent shape with my berm as nice as a regular asphalt highway. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I’d been told by the gang back in Bismarck that this oil boom has had a major impact on the small towns in the area. Most all of the efficiency motels are booked 24-7 by the oil people, the truckers, the well workers and damned near everyone involved in the industry. Good for the economy, bad for the people traveling through the area. Even the campgrounds are filled with oil people living in campers and RV’s. I’m told the towns and cities are scared to go into a building boom to satisfy the influx of new oil people because this happened once before and then the oil industry out here went bust, and the area was left with all the new building and no new people to occupy them. Burned once and now shy to build again, so there’s a massive housing shortage out here in this northwest quadrant of ND. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So I had a good head’s up that I could be in dire straights when looking for any place to stay anywhere between Minot and Williston. Anyway, the weather was just fabulous because a cold front had moved in last night and the morning temps were in the upper 50’s. Forecast was for mid 70’s for the day – great for cycling. So I was not worried about the later than usual start today. My cross headwind was actually quite mild and no where near as big an issue as the prior week of cycling into the wind. So part of me wanted to just shoot for the town of Ray, about 36 miles west of Stanley. As I rode I hemmed and hawed about bagging it in Stanley or shooting for Ray. But whatever the case, I still had to consider the possibility of where I’d stay what with the oil people sucking up all the lodging spots. Must have decided I’d go for Ray two or three times – on the total flats when I was cooking along into the cross headwind at 14 mph. Then I’d think twice and reconsider on the long gradual climbs where my legs felt like cement stumps and get my mind made up to just go for an easy day and bag it in Stanley, the biggest place I’d hit for the day for sure. Ray and Tioga are mere specks on the map. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>As I got closer to Stanley there was a noted increase in the truck traffic and the amount of oil wells and pumps on both sides of the road. Most of the stuff looks pretty new. And I could see the water tower of Stanley from quite a distance away, so it just loomed on the horizon for a while as I pedaled on. Finally hit town at about 4:45 hrs in the ride, and a mellow 60-mile day. The town is just off of the Rt 2 thoroughfare, and I passed it with a bug up my rear end to maybe just go for Ray or Tioga, depending on how much the mileage was. So I rode up to a mileage sign: Ray – 36 miles; Tioga – 29 miles. That would give me a 96 or 89 mile day, and my legs were just beat. So I did a U-turn and rode into town. Decision made – Stanley it is. Time to look for the lone motel in town. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Rode around this little town for a bit and saw nothing. Actually it was very quiet being a Sunday afternoon. So I finally stopped and asked a gentleman loading some shingles on his pick-up at the local lumber store. Nice guy, stopped what he was doing and explained to me the oil boom and that I’d have an ice cube’s chance in hell of getting a room anywhere around here – not here, not in Ray, not in Tioga, not in Williston. Nowhere! Said even the campgrounds are full, but that they may let me just pitch a time somewhere on the premises. He called a buddy over and his friend concurred. He thought for a minute and said that he’d let me sleep in his trailer, but that it was out of town at a lake. Then he asked his friend of one of their friends has a trailer in town, and thereby called that friend. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Well, the friend didn’t exactly say yes, but invited us over so he could kind of check me out. I followed Kelly to his friend’s house, just a few blocks away. Out of the house came Arden, a 60-something year old gentleman. We shook hands and then Arden’s wife Janis came out and invited me in for lunch. Kelly left and in I went with Arden to have some lunch. Janis got out all sorts of lunch meats and breads, cookies, nuts, coke, and pbj. It was quite a spread. We ate and talked, each sharing a bit about our lives etc. Really awesome folks. Arden was totally cool with putting me up in his camper that’s located in a new building just a mile from their house outside of town. I thanked Janis with a big hug and followed Arden in his pick-up to the building. He took me down this roller coaster gravel road that paralleled Rt 2. Have to admit that the second climb had me in the middle cookie in the easiest gear and out of the saddle with my rear tire slipping in the gravel. But I made it and got to the building. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>The place is brand new, and massive. He’s got his horse trailer and his 5<sup>th</sup> wheel parked in the main bay, and then several smaller areas partitioned off for office, work areas and stables. In his office is a refrig and coffee pot. Then he commenced to showing me around the place, in addition to hooking up the 120 to the 5<sup>th</sup> wheel. Said I had a computer with an air card and I was wondering if I could get cell reception our here. Well, he pulled out his cell and showed me 4 bars, and then walked me outside and pointed to a cell tower about 300 yards in back of his building. Yup, wifi in his 5<sup>th</sup> wheel! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Arden is a Vietnam war vet and a huge horseman. There are pics of him all over the office area on horses. He even leads horse packing tours in the ND Badlands. He told me that he sold off 20-some acres of his farm to the oil industry and it looks as though he was paid handsomely what with this building and all the goodies inside. So anyway, he showed me my abode and then said he had to get rolling to do some work at the house and another property of his. Told me to make myself at home and off he went, telling me that maybe he’d stop back later in the day. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I checked my computer for wifi with my aircard and dog gone if I’ve got a hardy 4 bars. Changed, and rode into town with just an empty front pannier to go food shopping. Bought some pre-made sandwiches, yogurt, and a Ben & Jerry’s for dinner at a little grocery and then got a couple of beers from a pub for later this eve, and back I rode to my little abode. Should be a really peaceful night here in the camper that’s in a building - what with pretty regular train traffic just about a half mile away. It’s the same train track line that Amtrak runs on, as I saw a Amtrak west-bound liner blasting through today as I was riding along. I just love trains, and hearing their horns is very soothing for me, especially at night. Actually I’m seriously considering taking Amtrak to go home when I finish this trip. I’d just ship my bike back on UPS or Fedex and jump on a train for a nice couple of day ride back along some of the very terrain I pedaled west on. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Tomorrow I’m shooting for Williston. Now I had just placed a call to Tammy and Tim from Bismarck. Tim had told me that I’d have a very tough time finding anywhere to stay between Minot and Williston, as he does business on the road a lot in those areas and has a devil of a time finding a place to stay. Anyway, Tim offered me the opp that if I cannot find a place to stay in Williston, that their son lives there an may put me up for an evening. Sounds like that may be my only option there what with this lodging boom out here. So I’m supposed to call Tammy back at 7 PM CST to see if it will be possible. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I’m also told that once into Montana I will not have this oil boom problem to deal with, and lodging should be easier to obtain. Hope that’s the case. So that’s the story from here in Stanley, ND. It’s actually amazing to think back to when I started this trip way the heck out in Northern Maine. And now here I am about 80-some miles from the Montana border. Talked to my dad today and told him where I was, and his response was: “You’re still in ND, damn, you’ve been in that state for a week!” I laughed and explained to him that these are some BIG states out here, and that Montana is 630 miles long, so I’d be in that state even longer! You just can’t get a true picture of the massiveness of these states until you ride a bike across them. It’s just a day at a time, and then after a week you really see your progress. You eventually fold up the tattered state map, throw it in the garbage, and then you get out the next crisp new state map and do it all over again – one state at a time. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Cheers…….Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-55318296956624407532010-07-10T15:58:00.001-07:002010-07-10T15:58:43.408-07:00The wind at my back<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-10-10 Day 35: Bismarck, ND to Minot, ND: 110 miles in 6:43 hours. Burnt Road to River Road to Rt1804 to Rt 83 north to Minot. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Whew! Big ride day for sure. Stated the morning getting up around 5:30 AM at Carol’s to ready for my ride north up towards Minot so I can continue west. Now this was quite a topic of discussion Thursday night as I had wanted to go on a route that would take me into North Dakota’s Bad Lands in West Central North Dakota. Supposed to be quite beautiful place. BUT….there’s now oil in them there hills, and this has created a real problem. Problem is that it’s supposed to be as big as the oil fields of Saudi Arabia, but there are environmental issues to deal with to. Not all roses. And for me, a lowly little cyclist who wants to ride out into this area to view the stunning scenery, it’s not a good idea. Nope, I’m told that the roads are narrow, some bermless, and that the oil tankers moving north and south along these state and county roads just blast along at massive speeds. There’s been a cyclist killed out there by a truck, and numerous people had warned me NOT to take those roads.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Many at the potluck on Thursday were trying to figure out a way for me to get into the Badlands of ND, but each and every road they looked at was now a trucking route. Couple that with the fact that Lake Sakakawea, a extensive damed area of the Missouri, blocks most northerly roads up to Rt 2 west – it’s a bridgeless barrier. I was given some phone numbers, to call people in the know, but honestly, I just did not want to risk riding on any of those roads if it’s as dangerous as I’d been told – numerous times. So, I opted to go right back up to Rt 2 via Rt 83 north. But, Carol and the gang showed me a alternate route along the Missouri for about 42 miles up to the town of Washburn where it jcn back with Rt 83. So that was the plan for today, to ride this stretch along the Missouri, and then big it in the town of Underwood, about 56 miles north of Bismarck. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Got going from Carol’s at 6:45 AM as her and Tammy were off to a sprint triathlon. I took Carol’s directions and had no problem getting down onto River Road along the Missouri. And it was just otherworldly in the cool morning. Just a fabulous ride on a little road that is flats and gentle rollers up and down the buffs. I actually had the road to myself almost the whole time. Again, a pinch-me kind of ride. Thanks for the great beta ladies! Stopped several times for pics along the way. The wind was non-existent to ever so slightly out of the southwest, but almost the whole time along the river I noticed zero wind. Then I jcn with Rt 83 and on to Washburn. By Washburn the wind just started to stir, and I was wondering if it would shift to a westerly and make the day’s riding much harder, but by the time I reached my destination, Underwood, it was a solid southwesterly – at about 5-10 mph. Now came the dilemma – stop in Underwood with 52 miles under my belt, and hell, it was only 10:30 AM, or make a day of it and go for the green by riding tomorrow’s ride today, to Minot. I decided to go with the gamble and hope that the predicted 90+ degrees for the day wouldn’t crush me, and that the wind would stay out of the southwest. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Did a super quick rest stop at a convenience store for a coke and a sandwich, and bought some emergency goodies for the next 58 miles to Minot. Got on the road and man, just 15 min pit stop and it had felt like the wind picked up by another 5 mph. I was able to pedal at a very steady 16-18 mph, and wow, what a great feeling that was, big ring and just steamrolling down the road. Went across this 2-3 mile section that separates the massive Lake Sakakawea and Lake Audibon – very, very impressive. After that the road trended dead to the north, and it felt like the wind was dead from the south – mph up to 17-19 mph! I was just flying. Back in Underwood I was figuring on getting into Minot at like 3:30 PM, but now I was recalculating to get there at 2 PM! <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>I was warned that this particular section was pretty boring, really flat and featureless compared to what I had wanted to ride through on my way to the Badlands of ND where the scenery is supposed to be stellar. But damn was I flying. I mean I was eventually ticking off miles at 22-23 mph – a thing of beauty! My butt would get sore and I’d get out of the saddle and hammer at like 20 mph. Made Minot at like 1:48 PM, for 110 miles! Got a cheap motel with wifi, refrig and microwave. Even has Versus on cable for the Tour De France. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Temp was 93 degrees when I pulled in, but it was of the dry heat variety. Now that’s not to say that I wasn’t tuckered out. Hell, I was covered in rings of salt around my neck, arms and powdered all over my legs. When I stopped it felt like a freaking blast furnace. Showered and then went down the street for a Subway that the owner had told me about. But along the way I spotted a Chinese buffet. DONE. Did 4 plates and one soup! Waddled back to the motel and work on the computer and ice some new micro brews in the rigrig – Summit Great Northern Porter, brewed and MN. AWESOME stuff on a super hot day. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>So…I made up a day, and am now about 3 days off schedule. But honestly, I never really figured on riding 38 straight days in a row to get to Seattle. What I experienced in Bismarck was something that totally justifies NOT just hammering day after day and never getting to know a place. So tomorrow I’ll just see what the weather has got in store for me. If it’s an odd ball day, where the wind is in my favor, then I may shoot for Ray. If the wind is out of the west and the day is another torcher, then I’ll opt for just 60+ miles to Stanley. Good day or not, I just don’t think I have it in me to hammer out a<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>130-mile plus day to Williston, ND tomorrow. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Getting closer to meet my friends from Edmonton, Ken and Kim. They will be driving south to Cutbank, Montana and then driving east on Rt 2 to hook up with me. Will be super to see them again and hang out for a bit. Can you say Richard’s Red? Ken tells me he has a couple of cases. And surprise again…..may even have a chance to ride with Barney from Vancouver again. He’s kicking around some ideas to hook up with me also in far western Montana or in Spokane Washington. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Anyway, seeing those faces from last year’s trip will be really incredible. Well, that’s it from Minot, ND. Damn is it hot up here! All the best……Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5519289801803685864.post-69533934639470933452010-07-10T15:07:00.001-07:002010-07-10T15:07:59.422-07:00A day in Bismarck ND<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial">7-9-10 Day 34: Bismarck, ND for an off-day. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 19px; ">Sorry about no blog this morning, but after a really full day of sight-seeing and a whirl wind tour of Bismarck, I was just beat yesterday and bagged it to bed to prep for the ride today. So let me kind of go over my Friday in Bismarck. Now all I had ever really knew of Bismarck is the little blurbs I get from my Bismarck cycber coaching clients about the weather, and it was usually the winter weather they described to me that made me shudder. So I arrived in Bismarck on Thursday and it was about 88 degrees. Then yesterday the temp was about 88-90 degrees. Not the sub zero place I was always hearing about for sure.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Started the morning yesterday by running a group through a “bricklett” workout, which entailed biking, running back to back for 4 reps. I suited up in my cycling gear at 8 AM and rode the 10 miles to a college track with Laura, Carol and Tammy. For me, I was hoping for a noodle to the track, but being Mr. Coach, I wasn’t going to bitch if they were jamming, and I kind of had an idea that they would be riding a good WU as I usually require on the way to the track – be it my rest day or not! And it was not a noodle – thanks Laura!! So we got to this awesome track at the U of M, situated up on this big bluff overlooking the city and the Missouri River. It’s a stunning setting for a workout on a just fabulous sunny day. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>We met Ron, Laura’s hubb at the track and he joined in on the workout. I had a total blast coaching them through 4 very solid bricks of like 2 laps around the U on the bike followed by a half mile rep on the track x 4 times. After the workout I was given a cycling tour of parts of the city of Bismarck. This is a really awesome city, and it really reminded me of something like Boulder, CO, a kind of front range place – except that there are no snow covered peaks looming off to the west, just these big rounded bluffs. The cottonwoods were shedding their seeds so much that at times it looked as if it were snowing out on some of the routes we rode on along the Missouri River. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>They tell me that all the new housing right down along the river, the cribs that go for a mill or so, they could very well be involved in a very major flood somewhere down the road. They’re putting in marinas next to some of these developments that are just incredible. It’s quite a beautiful place down along the Missouri, but it could be a real mess with one of those 100-year floods. Ended our cycling tour de Bismarck at the top of this bluff where you could really get a bird’[s eye view of the river and the bluffs on the other side. I mean you can literally see for 10,20, 30+ miles out to the west. Just so massively expansive that it’s amazine. Nope, I ain’t in Ohio no more!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Laura and Ron took us out to lunch at a totally dope place. This was the bomb for sure. Laura suggested I get this hot/cold salad plate, but I just wasn’t sure about that one and ordered a Cajun chicken pasta dish that was great. But I’ll tell ya, when that salad dish came out for Laura and Carol, my jaw dropped. That thing was the king of salads, and I’m not talking lettuce and carrots. Nope this thing had damned near the whole garden on it complete with asparagus and olives. Glad I don’t have this restaurant at home cuz I’d be spending a ton of money there!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>My tour de Bismarck continued with Carol taking me to Fort Abraham Lincoln State Park to check out General Custer’s barracks prior to the infamous “Last Stand” in Montana, and a Mandan Indian village. Pretty cool stuff. We ended the Lincoln State Park gig by going up to these reconstructed lookout towers on a massive bluff that Custer’s troops used to watch the Missouri River for Indian attacks. The view from the tops of these 3-story towers is just off the charts crazy. And the amazing thing was that Friday was like a dead calm day – no wind out of the west. No wind at all! And we’re up there looking at the miles and miles of Great Plains stretching out in every direction, with the Missouri River and Bismarck far below. You could only imagine what this looked like back in 1875 when the troops were standing up here looking out at the millions of acres of grasslands in front of them. With no wind stirring the hot afternoon, it was just so cool to stand up there and listen to nothing but the birds singing and the crickets chirping. Very cool. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Finished the day with a swim in the Missouri River at a place called Double Ditch. I had thought that wading into the Missouri would be like wading into the tepid Pine Creek of PA in the summer. NOT. No, this pup was cold, and it took me about 2-3 min to get the gumption to go for it and dive in. But once I did it felt wonderful. Got to tell you that this is just a fabulously beautiful area, and way beyond what I was expecting way the hell out here in North Dakota. They tell me NOT to tell people about the place – don’t want everyone moving out here! It’s special, and I can totally understand their love for this area – even in the dead of winter when temps can dip to 40 below.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US"><span style="mso-tab-count:1"> </span>Many thanks to Carol, my hostess for this awesome day of R&R in Bismarck. Also, great meeting Laura and Ron, Tammy and Tim, Marnie, and Darcy and hubby. All great folks, and I’m very happy to have finally matched faces and personalities to the names and voices I had known. All the best to all of you, and thanks so much for your hospitality. I’ll remember this visit always……..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0