Bike Tour 2022 – Ordway to Pueblo

I neglected to mention Olav’s close encounter with a grizzly bear in Yellowstone Park. He was riding fast down a hill when he saw a large vehicle with a camper stopped on the road ahead. He passed the vehicle on the left. Just as he came to the driver’s door, he saw a grizzly crossing the road in front of the vehicle. He said he was within five meters of the bear who paid no attention to him. I did not ask if he pooped his pants.

In case you are concerned about me, no worries; Mark who will be joining me soon usually takes the lead. Go Mark Go!

The Ordway Hotel was a good choice. The bed was comfy, the shower positively heavenly.

Breakfast was coffee and a cherry turnover. That’s pretty much what Ordway had to offer. Off I rode for 50 miles in the Arkansas River valley to Pueblo. (People in Missouri and Kansas pronounce it R Kansas. Coloradans say R Kansaw.) Mercifully I had a tailwind. And the road was either flat or slightly downhill.

The turnover was wearing off when I stopped to talk with Tony and Carrie, two eastbound riders. They were on their way from Denver to Bethesda, MD, almost certainly passing within a mile and a half of my house.

Tony, now a 62-year-old teacher, did the TransAm 36 years ago.

We parted ways and I made it to Boone and a rather poorly stocked convenience store. They had Gatorade, ice cream, and cheese and crackers. Gulp.

Of course , my snack messed my blood sugar all up and I rode like a drunk for a few miles. The last 6 miles into Pueblo was a bit of a shock. High speed traffic on a divided highway. People! Houses! Businesses! What happened to home on the range? In a strange contrast, my side of the road was briefly bordered by prairie dog habitat. As I rode along, they’d pop out of their holes and chirp.

I had a few things to do in Pueblo. First I needed a spare tube and a shot of air in my tires. I pulled into a curb cut to check the Google. Then I looked up. I was in front of a bike store! The same one I visited in 2019.

After that I went to an ATM. I’d nearly gone through $200 in cash since sometime in May.

A bike shop employee recommended the Shamrock Bar for lunch. Being a newly minted Irish citizen I couldn’t not go there. I had the green chili mac with bacon and an Irish Red brew. The plate of food was enormous. I have no shame; I ate it all.

Next I checked a hotel downtown for a room but it would have cost over $200. I reserved a room at the Baymont Inn three miles uptown. As it turns out, I booked the last room.

After checking in, I put a did a load of wash, everything but my rain pants and my torn t-shirt. After the wash I put the clothes in the dryer. It wouldn’t take my quarters. I complained to the manager. She refused to let me use the hotel dryer. She told me to take it to a laundromat. I reminded her that I was in a bike and that it was 95 degrees outside. She objected to the fact that I was upset.

After a few minutes of stewing, I used the Google to find a laundromat and rode there. A customer, obviously of modest means, pointed to a machine with 2 minutes of drying time left then added 75 cents to it. He wouldn’t let me pay him back. Laundromat karma’s gonna get you.

Tomorrow I’m heading further west, about 35 miles, to stay with a Warmshowers host. It’s supposed to be very hot but, as they say, it’s a dry heat. I will be gaining about 1,400 feet in elevation. Staying overnight at over 6,000 feet should help me acclimate.

Today was my first sighting of the Rockies. They are rather intimidating looking.

Tony and Carrie, two crazy kids on their way to Bethesda, MD

No more open range and mega farms. They got trees here!

Ice water and Irish Red. Hydration is important.

Miles today: 57. Tour miles: 1,159.5.

Bike Tour 2022 – Eads to Ordway

I am in Trump country. The city offices in Eads had the official President Trump photo in a prominent location. I didn’t see one of Brandon though.

While riding through the side streets of Eads last night I saw a towheaded little boy no more than two wandering alone in the middle of the street. It felt a bit like a Rod Serling moment.

I fell asleep way too early and slept like a fallen tree. I woke up at 2:48 a.m. I pulled my sleeping bag over my head and woke up again at 4:30. I tried again and got up at 5:35. I had been assured that the park’s sprinkler system had been deactivated but I broke camped exceptionally fast in case the maintenance man didn’t get the memo.

I rode the half mile to the roadside bathroom. The facilities were all metal. Sitting on the cold toilet woke me up muy pronto. Next I rode to a gas station convenience store to buy water and a sandwich for my ride. It’s about 60 miles to Ordway without any services.

Next up was breakfast at JJ’s where I was joined by Olav, an eastbound rider. Olav is from Norway. He’s doing 100 miles per day.

The breakfast was huge After eating every molecule, I headed west on The Mule. The road was very gently rolling as it passed through the plains, a railroad line on a berm to my right.

After 35 miles, two deer, 50 or so cattle, and some grain elevators, I arrived at Arlington. I ate my gas station sandwich. Eastbound rider Mike told me of how disgusting the Arlington comfort station was. Eww. Needless to say, I took a pass on using it.

The remaining 20 miles were a grind. The terrain however was gently downhill and, with the aid of a mild tailwind, I took full advantage. My speedometer read between 15 and 18 mph the whole way. The five miles after Sugar City were flat. Not one inch up or down.

I trucked into Ordway and found the only hotel in town where Corey, Mark, and I had squeezed into a room in 2019. I had plenty of camping options, but it had been four days since my last hot shower. Let’s just say that my BO confirmed that I didn’t have Covid.

I would have taken a slot alone in the hotel’s hostel section with its shared bathroom but two Belgian cycle tourists arrived immediately after I did. $30 more for a private room and no deadly infection won out.

After a fantastic shower, I went in search of edible plant medicine only to find the town’s weed store was closed. After a minute checking out the town saloon, I ended up at a pizza place where I had a Prison Break sausage sandwich, a wise choice.

I am several days early for the end of the solo portion of my ride in Canon City. I need to balance cost of shelter with scary heat arriving here in the next few days. My options include staying here another day, staying in a hotel in Pueblo, staying with at least one Warmshowers host on route, staying in a motel in either Florence or Canon City, and, I kid you not, staying in a dorm room in an abbey in Canon City.

Riding into Eads involved a fierce sprint of sorts through a highway work zone. It left my head spinning. My blast across the plains today did the same. Even at 4,500 feet or so I can feel the effects of altitude. Ordway is at 4,300 feet.

Miles today: 65. Tour miles: 1,102.5.

My light breakfast. Held me in good stead for 35 miles.

Bike Tour 2022 – Sheridan Lake to Eads

Right after I posted last night we were put under a tornado warning. What fun. The sky was creepy. About 30 minutes later four eastbound bicyclists showed up. Theo, Emma, Kevin, and Chase left Oregon on May 1. They encountered impassable roads at their first mountain pass. Snow.

Despite the crazy weather and crashes they are all in good spirits.

I had some pancakes for breakfast then headed west on Highway 96. I’m in no hurry and the nearest town is Eads, about 30 miles west. With temperatures in the high 60s and a tailwind I was tempted to go long but the previous three days were hard so I decided to camp in the town park in Eads. Three free nights in a row.

About half way to Eads I stopped to chat with Gary and Michael, eastbound riders on an epic adventure. They started in San Francisco, rode to Los Angeles, then banged a left on US Route 66 through the Mojave desert, across Arizona, up to the Grand Canyon, through the Utah parks, over two 11,000-foot passes, then into the Front Range on 96. They’re riding to Yorktown then up to Maine. In Maine they’ll bang another left and re-cross the country. Nothin’ to it.

Last night they were caught in a hailstorm and considered themselves lucky not to be hit by baseball-sized hail that fell not far from their location.

We traded info and stories for a half hour then headed our separate ways.

My route took me downhill out of Sheridan Lake then back up over 4,000 feet shortly after our roadside chat. The last mile into Eads was through a one-lane construction zone. I busted my butt to get through as fast as possible. The drivers behind me were mercifully patient.

In Eads I checked in with the Sheriff and made sure the sprinkler system was turned off in the park.

The next few days will be increasingly hot. I’ll need to be careful not to overdue it.

Miles today: 30.5. Tour miles: 1,036.5

Gary and Michael and their super heavy bikes.

Bike Tour 2022 – Leoti, Kansas to Sheridan Lake, Colorado

Upon arriving in Leoti, I pitched my tent in the town park (my repair worked!) and went to take a shower in the adjacent mini-hospital. The nurse in charge wouldn’t let me use the shower, presumably out of Covid concerns. (I was wearing better protection, an N95 respirator mask, than the hospital staff. Go figure.)

I was dispatched to the swimming pool where I took a very cold shower. I felt rather like George Costanza when I was done.

I had dinner at the town bakery, where I ate in 2019. When I left for the bakery the skies were partly cloudy when I returned they were black.

I quickly got into my tent then all hell broke loose. Big gusty winds and a mighty rain ensued. I hoped that I set up the tent properly and that it didn’t leak. Yes on both counts.

After an hour I took an Advil PM and re-emerged. I could see the next wave of storms bearing down. Back in the tent I went. Another raging storm came through. My tent held firm and dry. With ear plugs in and eye mask on I fell asleep until 3 a.m. It was still raining, but not inside my little sanctuary.

I arose with the birds and twiddled my thumbs until the town diner opened at 7. It had a big circular table where ten large men gathered to discuss whatever men discuss. Every single small town has this.

Back at the park I was packing up and about to leave when Bob Eakins rolled up. Bob and I met in Monticello, Utah in 2019. He had just finished riding from Sacramento and was DONE, exhausted mentally and physically. It made me wonder what I was about to get myself into. I felt the same as Bob when I arrived in San Francisco.

Bob is riding west to east from Pueblo. I thought he was well to the east by now but he rides relatively short days. A bit surprising considering his relative youth – he’s 65.

After an hour he returned to his motel room and I headed straight west on Kansas Highway 96. Into a headwind of course. I was working hard, curiously taking big gulps of fresh air.

The farms on either side of the road went on forever and the sky was picture pretty with puffy white clouds. Every so often one of the clouds would block the sun and the temperature would drop. Aah.

I arrived 23 miles later in Tribune where I stopped for lunch. Chicken strips and green beans. Fine dining.

Tribune is in Greeley County. I lit out west on 96 and soon passed the small town of Horace. Go west young man indeed.

The wind was more of a cross wind after lunch but I still seemed to be working awfully hard. A reward of sorts came when I left Kansas and entered Colorado. I will Kansas no more forever. (Except on the 50 States Ride, of course.)

In Colorado the road had expansion joints, what every cyclist’s ass hates. Thankfully they didn’t continue for more than a few miles. I was passed by oncoming farm equipment that looked like Transformers.

I arrived in Sheridan Lake, population 88 if you count the pets, and chatted with the clerk in the town gas station/convenience store. She grew up in Towner, which I had passed through a few miles previously. Towner’s population is 22.

On the way into the store I waved to a bicycle tourist coming from the west. He and I are staying at the Sheridan Lake Bible Church which has hosted bike tourists every summer for many years.

My east bound friend is Mike, from Switzerland. He’s a fascinating man. He trekked in Nepal, visited Cambodia and Vietnam, flew to Los Angeles, then flew to Denver where he bought a bike and a Burley flat bed trailer and set out across America. Mike had a catalytic converter business in Europe that he sold in 2005. There’s no future in it, he rationalized. His mother’s side of the family developed the Schindler company, a manufacturing conglomerate. Among other things they make escalators and elevators. I wonder if my 2018 bike tour friend Martin who worked in elevator repair in Switzerland worked for Schindler. It would be an interesting coincidence.

Ernie, the pastor of the church came by and chatted for a long time. He has all kinds of stories about bike tourists who’ve stayed here. Imagine living in the middle of nowhere and meeting people from all over the world.

Mike is camping outside despite the threat of bad weather. He doesn’t like to sleep on the floor. He knows a thing or two about bad weather; he sailed across the Atlantic twice.

For those of you who think I’m a little old to be doing this, Mike is 85.

I’m now at 4,071 feet. I gained about 700 feet today. Gotta gulp that air now.

Roadside grain tower in Towner. I watched a crew building one of these. Truly impressive. They added band after band of wraparound rebar using a crane from the top.

Today’s miles: 54. Tour miles: 1,006.

Bike Tour 2022 – Dighton to Leoti

After escaping a Hitchcockian fate at the motel, I rode to the bowling alley for breakfast. It had a diner attached to it. That’s small town Kansas in a nutshell.

The owner and I got to talking. He says nobody in Kansas gets the Covid vaccine; they all take intermectin instead. He had absolutely no interest in science or vaccines. No point in arguing the matter with someone who lives in his own reality.

He told me that he grew up on the Crow reservation in Montana and was in the Navy. For many years he ran a dive shop in Cozumel. An interesting guy. I hope he doesn’t end up on a ventilator.

All the D-Day and RFK postings on Twitter got it into my head that today was our wedding anniversary so I called my wife. It’s on the 11th. Derp.

We had a good chat though. It sounds like our daughter is really hitting her stride with law school. Yay!

The ride to Leoti was a grind on an unexpectedly busy highway. The road seemed to tilt a bit more upward and the cross wind felt much more like a headwind.

I have been having leg cramps at night so I made sure to drink as I rode. After 25 miles I reached Scott City where I saw a bank sign say it was 91 degrees. Oof!

I ate lunch in an air conditioned cafe. I guzzled two tall glasses of ice water and one of Coke. Then it was back on the highway for another 25 miles to Leoti. More headwind, more traffic, more uphill.

Eight miles out of town I passed a rather impressive looking bakery located pretty much alone on the prairie. Outside there is a metal sign of a bicyclist. It’s a memorial to a cross country racer who was killed during a race. The bakery had a sign that said “ice cream sandwiches” so I went inside and bought one. Actually they wouldn’t let me pay, the family of the bike racer pays for treats for all bike tourists.

Into Leoti I found the city park where I camped with Mark and Corey in 2019. I had a beast of a time setting up my tent in 2019 but today it went up in 10 minutes. The small hospital next store used to allow bike tourists to shower there but they are paranoid about Covid and sent me to the swimming pool in the park. The pool’s showers had only cold water. Woke my ass right up.

It turns out that I gained 500 feet in elevation today.

Nasty storms are coming thru town tonight. I’m riding out the first wave as I type this. So far so dry. The first time in days that the storm forecast was correct. So of course I am camping.

Total miles: 52. Tour miles: 1,024

Bike Tour 2022 – Dodge City to Dighton

The motel breakfast was alright by me. Two helpings of breakfast burritos without the tortillas washed down with multiple cups of coffee.

A tailwind greeted The Mule this morning and we rode it on US 50 all the way to Cimarron, about 18 miles west. We pulled into a supermarket to stock up on snacks (two apples, two bananas, and a wrap).

The weather report called for nasty thunderstorms with the possibility of hail and a tornado tonight. Let’s go camping!

Not.

The weather report also said I’d have a tailwind if I headed north. So I decided to eschew the finer hotels of Garden City to the west on US 50 and head north through nothingness to Dighton which is on the TransAm Trail.

The first 20 miles had the predicted tailwinds and even seemed to be slightly downhill. I spent a good deal of time going 18 – 20 mph without expending much effort.

I was back in infinite farm country. All day the overcast sky looked like it was going to spawn showers; all day it was dry if a bit more hot and humid than recent days.

After another 20 miles the route turned west for five miles, then north for the remainder of the day. The level prairie gave way to more rolling terrain and the winds began to turn first as a crosswind then for the last five miles into a headwind.

I was glad to see the grain elevator and water tower of Dighton after an unexpectedly hard ride. It turns out that Dighton is nearly 300 feet higher in elevation than Dodge City. Conscious of the weather report I immediately looked for a motel room. The Dighton Inn is an old cinder lock place straight out of a film noir.

After washing up I headed out for a late lunch. The town Mexican place was close and open. Good enough. The food left a lot to be desired.

Fortunately there are multiple choices for breakfast.

Tomorrow’s ride will be 48 miles straight west to Leoti where I camped with Mark and Corey in 2019. The camping is next to a small hospital where showers are provided for bicycle tourists.

Today’s miles: 72. Tour miles: 952.

Real prairie and a small portion of the historic Santa Fe Trail.

A Native American man prays or perhaps meditates at a monument to the Santa Fe Trail.

I finally got close to one of these behemoths. There are far fewer of these wind turbines than I expected.

Bike Tour 2022 – Greensburg to Dodge City

A couple of things happened last night worth noting. After my shower I left an amazing three inch wide ring in the tub. Maybe one reason I’m so slow is that I’m carrying half of Kansas with me.

Much more worrisome was the return of my stenosis leg pain. I walked less than a quarter mile to the gas station/Subway/convenience store up the highway. By the time I got there my left leg was screaming at me. I had planned to bring my food back to my room but opted to eat in the restaurant to let the pain calm down. The walk back caused a similar pain flare up so I hit the floor and did the PT exercises I have neglected for two weeks. Before bed I took two Gabapentin tablets. They seemed to help. They also knocked me out. I slept 8 1/2 hours.

The hotel breakfast was the real deal. Biscuits and gravy and sausage and cereal and OJ and coffee. (They also had made-to-order omelets, but I found out only after I had already gone all Porky on the other grub.) I figured I’d get about 20-25 miles out of the feast.

I set off around 10 headed west then northwest for Dodge City. The first 20 miles featured a strong crosswind. The last 24 the wind was favorable and my speed jumped by 3 or 4 mph.

I was back in flat farm country. I felt a bit like I was on a wind trainer as I pedaled away. The road was pitched upward about one percent the entire way. I gained another 200 feet of elevation today.

The pavement and the wide paved shoulder made for good rolling. I was passed by numerous livestock trucks, tractor trailers with a rather fragrant air wake.

I found out why when I arrived in Dodge, after a detour with a rudely steep hill. (Granny made short work of it.) Dodge City is home to National Beef, a humongous slaughterhouse. As I rolled past the offices I could see that the workers were shod in yellow Wellies. Wouldn’t want to ruin your normal shoes with all that blood and gore now would you?

Once in Dodge proper I could see the tourist part of town. It faces right onto a four-lane highway. So much for historical ambiance. There was some sort of street festival going on. Big crowds. Very noisy. Not for me.

I headed for the peace and quiet of the Super 8 on US 50 about a half mile west of the Wild West.

The front desk clerk was a true gem. She cheerfully helped me get my stuff inside and gave me a bag of snacks. Her name is Lotus and Wyndham Hotels should give her a big raise

One problem with bike touring out west is that you don’t notice the dry heat until you stop riding. Eek, it’s 85 degrees. No wonder I’m so thirsty.

My itinerary had me continuing on another 20 miles to Cimmaron but there’s no need to push it. Tomorrow’s weather looks good. I may use the southerly winds to ride back to the TransAm or just continue on the highway to Garden City.

Miles today: 46. Tour miles: 828.

This junk artist has issues with First Ladies.

The turn to the northwest that made my cross wind a tail wind

This baby in Ford, Kansas must hold a whole lot of grain.

Disappointed that historic Dodge City was overtaken by a noisy street party

Bike Tour 2022 – Medicine Lodge to Greensburg

Last night’s dinner was a burrito washed down by a Dos Equis. Bueno.

I spent the night watching a documentary on George Carlin in HBO. It was quite good.

This morning’s motel breakfast was pretty lame, not surprising when you’re paying $50 for the room. After breakfast I took a left out of the parking lot and rode 41 miles on the Gypsum Scenic Byway. This road is listed as one of the 30 best rides in the US by Bicycling Magazine.

It’s a pretty darn nice ride, especially with a 3/4ths tailwind, sunny skies, and comfortable temperatures and humidity.

The topography changed almost immediately after I left town. The closest thing I can compare it to is eastern Montana but with lots of green. In place of the flat prairie I saw buttes and plenty of hills actively eroding.

The first 20 miles featured plenty of ups and downs but nothing severe. I used my granny gear a lot, mostly to save my legs from tiring out. I had no shifting problems at all.

Unfortunately the first 20 miles also featured plenty of trucks all but one of which gave me room when they passed.

At 20 miles I stopped at a dirt road crossing to have a snack. A pick up pulled along side me off the road and the driver asked if I was okay. We chatted for a bit. He told me that when I teach the town of Coldwater to have lunch at the town pizza place; it’s owned by his father-in -law. He, the driver, seemed like a truly kind person.

He went up the dirt road and I continued on toward Coldwater. The rolling hills and buttes gave way to ranch land and, eventually, flat farms. The road leveled out. The effort eased.

In Coldwater I scouted out my food choices. They were three. Ultimate I followed Son-in-Law’s advice and went to the pizza place. His father-in-law was working the register. We talked quite a lot and he seemed like another very nice guy. I watched him interact with his employees with a gentle guiding touch.

He suggested the buffet for $10. Multiple kinds of pizza and a salad bar. All you can eat. Music to my ears! It was delish.

Let’s just say Father-in-Law lost money on the deal. I kidded him about it but he seemed genuinely happy that I ate my fill. He advised me about motels in Greensburg, the next town, 20 odd miles north. “After that, there’s nothing until Dodge, 46 miles further west.” To be safe, I called and reserved a room at the nicer of the two motels in Greensburg. (The low-end motel was rated one star and was at the far end of town.)

My partial tailwind turned into a full on shove in the back for 21 miles. And the road was flat.

Zoom!

When I dismounted my legs were a bit wobbly and I was a little dizzy.

It ended up being a little longer day then I had planned (aren’t they all?).

It’s a darn nice hotel and the breakfast buffet has all the goodies. I have to wait out some rain in the morning so it looks like the feedbag’s going to get a workout.

My bike is holding up fine. Kansas is much easier to ride across when your brake pads aren’t dragging on the rim (as they were during my 2019 crossing). My left pedal is fine. The ticking sound was caused by the aglet of my left shoe lace hitting my water bottle as I pedaled. (Believe it or not, an aglet on my jacket ticking against the top tube once nearly drove me mad.)

I’ve seen little animal life. One deer yesterday. Lots of cattle. The cattle don’t understand English. I ask then to run and they just stare at me. Maybe I should’ve used Spanish. In Montana I could get a decent stampede going with ease.

I have seen several mirages. I swore I was riding toward a flooded out section of road yesterday. Nope. Mirage, and a very convincing one at that.

During the Gypsum Hill ride, I crossed into Comanche County. I’m now on Kiowa County. I’m keeping an eye out for Blue Duck.

Mark contacted me today to remind me that Corey, he, and I are still on schedule to meet up in Canon City, CO in 12 days. I can make it there in 7 so I need to slow my roll.

I’ve gained 1,600 feet in elevation since Fort Scott.

Miles today: 67 Tour miles: 854.

Back to the flat farmland. Grain to infinity

Bike Tour 2022 – Hutchinson to Medicine Lodge

When I planned my itinerary, today’s ride was supposed to end after 56 miles in Pratt. I checked the weather app and found out that I’d have tailwinds and comfortable temperatures all morning. If I continued another 30 miles to Medicine Lodge I’d have good winds tomorrow when I head west to the Gyp Hills.

After breakfast (two huge bowls of Cheerios. a banana, and several cups of coffee, I headed south out of Hutchinson on Main Street a little after 8 a.m.

About a half mile into the ride I could hear the unmistakable sound of a dog huffing and puffing. A short haired, medium size dog was joyfully running its ass off to keep pace with me. This went on for at least a half mile. Then he turned down a side street still chugging away. A weird start to the day.

My route involved highways all the way. At first I was on US 50. Lots of trucks, but no worries: it had a 12-foot paved shoulder. US 50 headed west after a few miles and I took Kansas Highway 61 south. My paved shoulder went down to 8 feet. Traffic was lighter but twice I was passed by absurdly wide vehicles. One was a farm machine that looked like a giant insect. It had at least a 6-foot clearance under the cab and was more than a lane wide. The other was a tractor pulling a trailer with a wide red machine on the back. Both vehicles gave me plenty of room.

Highway 61 followed a Union Pacific rail line all the way to Pratt. I was expecting evidence of flooding but there was hardly any. New state motto: Kansas: We Do Drainage.

The pavement could not have been smoother or flatter. The Mule trucked along at 15 mph. The tailwind and blue skies lifted my spirits. The riding was effortless,

The shoulder eventually narrowed to three feet but there was no rumble strip to deal with so I had plenty of room to roll.

For the last several days there have been small, bird-pecking oil wells in the fields. The number increased as I moved south.

I arrived in Pratt a little after noon. 56 miles before 12:30 is insane. When I came to a WalMart, I stopped to inspect my left pedal. It was holding up just fine and not making any suspicious noises. So I moved on.

I asked a police officer where I could buy breakfast. The only place was three miles west of town. So I settled for McDonalds which I happened to be standing next to.

A quarter pounder with bacon, fries, and a half gallon of Diet Coke for $9. And two water bottles filled with cold water to boot. Burp.

Continuing on to Medicine Lodge was an easy decision to make. I rolled down Main Street in Pratt. It could have been any Main Street in any city in Kansas. Every other store was empty. Cars were parked diagonally signaling this was once a vibrant commercial area.

The ride to Medicine Lodge was slower. I had called ahead to book a room at a motel so there as no hurry. I had an occasional light headwind which seemed only fair after the morning. With each passing mile the terrain became less flat farms and more rolling fields with trees scattered about. This area clearly gets more rainfall than farther north.

With ten miles to go the road started rolling up and down and side to side as I entered a hillier area. There weren’t any granny worthy hills, just a few middle ringers.

I am now very much in Trump/conspiracy nut country based on some of the yard signs I was seeing. I think I’ll stay out of the bars in town tonight.

I’m pretty impressed with how my body’s holding up. An achy shoulder now and then. A sore left calf. Pretty much run of the mill stuff. I will confess to feeling a bit wobbly when I dismounted at the motel. I feel more like I did in 2018 than in 2019.

Speaking of the motel, it looks like a place where murders are committed (Stuff her body in the trunk, Roscoe.) Other than a threadbare carpet, the room is quite acceptable. I promise I’ll duck if I hear gunfire.

Miles today: 88. Total tour miles: 787 in 12 days.

Grain elevator. Would my home owners association object if I put one of these babies in my backyard?

Fields of grain. If you zoom in you can see the wind turbines in the distance.

Bike Tour 2022: Day off in Hutchinson

I have tendency to grind myself into the ground on bike tours. In 2018, I rode from DC to St. Paul, 1,600 miles, without a break. Then I rode another 2,200 miles from St. Paul to Camano Island, Washington without another day off. In 2019 I rode 1,485 miles from northern Indiana to Salida, CO before shutting it down.

It’s rainy and cold and the lodging is free so I decided to take a break after nine days on the road. Even after a big breakfast with 8 cups of coffee I was groggy all day. I thought I might be getting Covid. Then I had lunch, a short nap, a shower, a burger, and two amber ales. All better. If I had Covid, I’ve found the best cure ever!

Speaking of breaks there’s a bit of play in my left pedal. The head mechanic at the town bike shop said it’s nothing to worry about. And besides, we don’t have the parts to work on it. Just buy new pedals. Translation: there’s no profit in overhauling pedals.

I’ve broken two left pedals on this bike on tours in the past. I have no idea why. My plan is to ride on to Pratt tomorrow. If the pedal fails I’ll buy another pair at WalMart down there. So it goes.

I gather from the comments on my tour posts that I have sounded rather negative. I’m having fun. Really. Problems arise on every bike tour. You do what you can to solve them and keep pedaling (or walking). The other day after the winds blew me off the road for the 14th time I would have gladly taken a ride. There are worse fates.

Last night’s storms were insanely intense. Most of the action was South and East of Hutchinson where some areas had 3 inches of rain per hour. Noah, phone home.

There were a few short lived squalls here as well. As of 7 pm, all is good. The sun is out.

I have an itinerary but the dates are flexible. I don’t have to be in Canon City, CO for two weeks. It’s about 600 miles, about 50 miles per day with a day off.

Tomorrow’s weather looks fantastic. I should make it to Pratt easily. Tailwinds rock. If all goes well, I might even forge ahead another 30 miles to Medicine Lodge so that I can take advantage of favorable winds the next day.

One big plus of bike tours is that you can eat just about anything you want and lose weight. Speaking of eating, there’s a bag of M&Ms over there with my name on it. Time to get my feed bag on.

Miles today: 3 running errands around town. Unloaded. The Mule felt like a rocket ship.

Tour mileage: 627

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