Tag: No Name Tour

No Name Tour: Day 17 – And Five Went Riding

After a sumptuous dining experience at Subway, Corey, Mark, Sweet T, and I headed back to the hotel where we met Fedya, a Russian guy who began his cross country ride in North Carolina.

We headed to our respective rooms and, by all reports, crashed early and hard. Yesterday was a tough ride.

The hotel was a rather run down place but its breakfast was pretty decent: coffee, juice, cereal (including Cheerios!), eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, and yogurt. No fruit but still more than enough fuel for our 60+ mile trek.

(L to R) Mark, Sweet T, Corey, Fedya at the start

We headed west out of Larned. I tried to keep up with the gang but it took me 8 miles to warm up. We were dealing with a light headwind and a steady, gentle climb for 12 miles before turning to the north.

It was 19 miles to the optimistically named Rush Center. Wheat and fallow fields, many still affected by the floods. On and on in a straight line. Fedya, who is fit but relatively new to bicycling, was experiencing serious SBS. You know they are hurting when I blow past them.

I could see the others far in the distance. I’d stop from time to time to check things out and ease by behind. I could see them pulling away.

Riders on a rare bend in the road

At a rest stop at Rust Center, Fedor was despondent; his butt was killing him. Mark loaned him the Brooks Cambrium saddle that he tried last week. After only 100 yards, Fedya put his old saddle, a Brooks 17, back on. It seemed to work. Sore butt and all I couldn’t keep up with him.

From Rush Center we headed due west to Ness City. The wind direction was rotating. A cross wind gradually turned into a tailwind. Just the thing we needed to push us up the 1 percent grade.

33 miles later we rode into Ness City like cowpokes after a cattle drive. Alas there was no saloon with sportin’ women. We settled for a quick break at Dollar General where Mark bought a pool noodle. It made me think of Dave.

The weather had been beautiful all day so we were hoping to camp in the city park. A lack of showers or a pool convinced us to check into the rather run down hotel in town. At least it’s inexpensive. And has a pool.

Tonight we dine on Mexican food. Hola, senorita. Cinco cervesas, por favor.

Miles today: 64.5

Miles total: 1,087

No Name Tour: Day 16 – The Long Straight Road

Last night about 1 a.m. I rolled over and my right hamstring went into a massage be spasm. I managed not to yell but the spasm lasted ten minutes. It gradually abated for another then minutes before going into spasm again.

Ten minutes later my leg calmed down and I could go back to sleep.

Rough night.

We had breakfast at the hostel. The meal consisted of food we bought at the supermarket last night. Over the meal we discussed options for getting past Nickerson. The main roads we needed to use we still closed by the flood.

Sweet T opted to listen to locals who told him to go north, east of Nickerson. Then go west, passing the flooded area to the north. We opted to use the google. We knew we were taking a chance in but it worked out fine.

From our Adventure Cycling maps we knew that there would be no services along our route of over 70 miles. BYOB.

We went west from Hutchinson for about 16 miles. For part of this segment of the ride we were pacelining. We crossed over the Arkansas (pronounced Are Kansas) which flows south from the Nickerson area. The river was high and fast.

Fast, I wasn’t, and the three-man pacelining became a duo.

Next we turned north for six miles. Mark and Corey guessed right; we ended up just to the west of the flooded area.

Here we turned left for 50 miles. Without a turn. Just straight through the prairie. Corey told me that, in addition to riding into a light headwind we were climbing on a grade of 1 to 2 percent.

Mark sped ahead. I tried to keep up with Corey but my left knee and my need to use a restroom kept my speed down.

Mark, then Corey, stopped at a roadside sign that said “Water for Bikers”. Corey suggested that I stop and ask to use their restroom.

Sherry gives water to cyclist. A true trail angel.

I did. No problem. Then the homeowner named Sherry gave me a cold bottle of water for the road.

Odd roadside monument to Warren G. Harding

And the miles went by. Slowly. On and on through a wildlife preserve with more birdsongs than I could count. This is a stop over for many migratory birds.

Quivers National Wildlife Refuge

Then came the farms. Some had grain growing but most were not yet planted. Ponds of water were visible in most of these fields.

On and in. The terrain rising before me. Just a bit. The wind pushing against me. Just a bit.

Corey is the yellow dot in the distance

After over six hours of riding I caught Mark and Corey waiting on a bridge over the Arkansas River. (Our route was a line under its arc.)

We rode into Larned and stopped by the police station to get permission to camp one the surprisingly dry city park. We were told that tonight the city would be spraying for mosquitoes. We decide not to risk exposure to the insecticide and checked into a $50 per night motel. It’s everything you’d expect and less.

Miles today: 73

Miles total: 1022.5

No Name Tour: Day 15 – Pacelining to the Moon

Today we left the Warmshowers house and headed into Newton to partake of a breakfast buffet. Our hosts met us there and I ate lots of fruit on top of pancakes and other goodies.

We, Corey, Mark, and me, bid farewell to our hosts and headed west into an unexpectedly strong headwind. After 5 miles we turned north and had little relief.

After waving at the town of Hesston we headed due west for 23 miles to Medora. Corey stopped to photograph all the things, Mark jetted out into the distance, I held the middle.

When Corey didn’t catch up to me, I texted him to make sure he was okay. (He was.)

When he was done with his artistic pursuits, he rode his ass off to catch up to me. Exhausted, he caught my wheel and I pulled him along for a few miles.

We then traded leads until we caught up to Mark who was standing on the side of the road admiring his awesomeness.

Actually he was still suffering from SBS and was determined to get to Hutchinson to buy a new saddle and new shorts.

Our original destination was Nickerson, Kansas, but the entire town is literally under water.

The three of us pacelined into the wind going much faster than we would have individually.

We pulled into the town of Buhler where Danke Schoen was blaring from loudspeakers. (I made that up.)

We had lunch at a cafe. It was a relief to get out of the wind. There I met Sweet T, a TransAm rider who works at an REI in Fairfax, Virginia.

Another 10 miles of windy pacelining brought us to Hutchinson. We went to Harley’s Bike Shop where I, also suffering from SBS, bought new bike shorts. We picked up the key to a free bike hostel in a nearby church. Then Mark and I returned to the bike shop. Mark bought a new saddle (his third saddle of the trip) and new bike shorts. I bought a pair of socks because the Warmshowers laundry ate one of my socks last night.

Later Corey, Mark, and I went to the Cosmosphere, a local museum about the space age. We checked out an Atlas (Gemini) and a Redstone (Mercury) rockets and a Saturn 5 thruster outside. Inside we toured the fascinating exhibit about the Nazi’s V1 and V2 rockets. (Made doubly interesting for me having visited the Churchill War Rooms in London in January). There was also a full size replica of the Space Shuttle Endeavor and an SR-71 Blackbird (a super fast, high flying spy plane).

Then we all watched the movie Apollo 11 on a screen on the inside of a dome. It’s an excellent recap of the mission for all you kiddies who weren’t alive when it happened.

After going to the moon we went out for beer and pizza at Salt City Brewery. We ended the night at the grocery store for more snacks and provisions for tomorrow’s ride.

Tomorrow we will be improvising a route because sections of the TransAm are under water. We are headed to Larned, about 60 miles to the west.

Earlier today I searched the weather for Nevada. My concern has been for sweltering heat. It’s actually cold there.

Another concern is that getting across the Rockies may be undoable because of unusually high spring snowfalls.

Time will tell.

Miles today: 46.5

Total miles: 949.5

No Name Tour: Day 13 – Second Eureka

After dinner of peanut butter on flour tortillas and an apple, I read some of Corey’s Crazyguyonabike.com journal. The sandman whacked me in the head at 9:30 and I didn’t move a muscle for eight hours.

After a mediocre motel breakfast, The Mule and I hit the road, west bound for Benedict with a strong cross wind.

I spotted what I thought were statues of three horses near the road. Then I realized they were real. What beautiful creatures. They posed for a picture but wouldn’t say hello.

Corey and Mark caught up to me. I think they are on PEDs. Or maybe I’m just old, fat, and slow.

At one point I passed a baby snapper turtle in the road and pointed it out to Mark who nobly stopped and saved to grow and wreak havoc.

Once we turned north and had a tailwind we made like bakery trucks (and hauled buns).

After 40 miles we stopped at Lizzard Lips Cafe for lunch. We were each given little plastic lizards to attach to our bikes. I took the pink one to match my WABA socks. Now my tour has a mascot. It needs a name. Suggestion welcome.

After lunch we headed west to Eureka, my second Eureka of the trip. The road was s busy highway. We had 19 miles to go and we’re racing the predicted arrival of thunderstorms. Along the way we met Ian Graves who was heading east on the TransAm. He gave us the forecast.

We pushed the pace. Well, Mark and Corey did. I kept them in view and hoped my left knee would survive the trauma.

I did stop to take a selfie with a sign.

Thankfully it did and the motel that Ian recommended was adequate and walking distance to a beer store.

Tonight we dine at Pizza Hut. (It’s nearby what can I say.) We will be joined by Sweet T, another TransAm rider who we’ve been an hour behind for the last few days.

One thing has been very clear: had we come this way a day earlier we’d have been sitting for days waiting for the flood waters to recede. So despite our inconvenience yesterday, all has worked out surprisingly well under the circumstances.

Miles today: 62

Total miles: 827.5

Evidence of flooding was all around us but the flooding near the Verdigris River was astonishing. The highway passing through some farm fields was raised above the fields like a causeway. The fields were filled with flood water for as far as you could see on either side of the road. About two feet from the road was debris from the peak of the flood. The water must have been at least a foot higher. That’s a mind boggling amount of rain.

The road had no shoulders and a drop off on either side. Strong crosswinds and passing cars and trucks made for a hairy mile of riding.

No Name Tour: Day 9 – Ozark Roadkill

The hotel had nearly real food for breakfast. Eggs. Biscuits and gravy. Coffee. OJ. Yoghurt.

Stuffed, I hit the road and screamed down the hill I had to climb back up yesterday.

And so began a day of climbing and descending and climbing and descending. On net, I climbed 350 feet, but it felt like 3,500.

Before the Ozarks, roadkill was mostly opossums. Beginning yesterday armadillos started outnumbering opossums. There was also a disturbing number of squashed turtles. I stopped and helped three get off the road.

Riding the frontage road of the interstate I came upon this strange sign combination.

It turned out to be two businesses but for about a mile I was puzzled.

An old bridge on 66 is closed but you can get through on a bike by lifting it over the barrier. This requires unloading/loading/unloading/loading as there were two barriers. One on either end.

As I was about to get underway two local cyclists, Roy Phillips and Al Trumbo, pulled up and we had a long talk. They were great and funny, full of stories. I knew I’d pay for the conversation later though. The time spent talking to them meant more time riding in the afternoon heat.

I stopped at every opportunity to guzzle water and sorts drinks. My belly was sloshing but still I was suffering. A headwind slowed me but felt great in the heat of the afternoon.

I called the town of Marshfield to secure permission to camp in the city park. Of course the access road into the park required one last climb.

I had to ride 1.5 more miles to get to a diner. The green beans that came with dinner were exactly what my body wanted. So was the cherry pie I had for dessert.

This was a really hard day. Hopefully it will pay off down the road. I need to get acclimated to hot weather.

Today was my last day on Route 66. No more refrigerated motels like this.

Tomorrow I switch to the TransAmerica Trail. Hopefully it will be my last hilly day for a while.

Miles today: 68

Mikes total: 569.5

No Name Tour: Day 7 – Roadside Attractions

Last night sirens rang out. A tornado was spotted nearby.

Eek.

It was all over by 8 pm so I walked across the parking lot for second dinner. I was HUNGRY.

I brought the fast food back to my room and hoovered it.

I slept in and left the motel after the usual motel breakfast hit the road.

After a few miles I came across something I’d missed this spring back home. Goslings! These were oddly all different ages but cute nonetheless. They wouldn’t pose for me do you’ll have to enjoy them from behind.

My legs were weary but the first few miles were on level ground. Once the road left the side of the interstate (Route 66 is mostly a frontage road these days) I saw a figure walking toward me.

It was a Tibetan monk in a straw cowboy hat. I kid you not. Warren Zevon could not have thought this up. He beamed a big smile at me as I waved and said “Haveva nice day.” (I considered “namaste” but the moment was already beyond surreal.)

Temperatures were pleasant and the wind was calm for a couple of hours. My legs were not having a good time. The last two monster hills yesterday took a lot out of them.

I couldn’t find any real food so made do with gas station junk for 40 miles.

Then I ran into the Dubois, Fay and Rob, who were coming east from Santa Monica. We talked a bit and they offered to put me up if I decide to go through Sacramento. Nice!

Their blog is fayrobepicjourney4.home.blog. I can’t wait to check it out.

They both wore wide yellow brims on their helmets, just as my friend Marie does. They said they were indispensable in the Mojave desert.

We traded info. I told them about the mud along the river, the scary neighborhoods in St. Louis, and the nasty hills ahead. They later told me by text that a bridge outage I’m going to encounter soon is passable by bike. Yay, no hilly 11 mile detour.

By this time temperatures had risen into the 80s and I had a 10 mph headwind.

Oh, I forgot to mention that it was hilly. Dozens of hills that were just a bit too steep or too long for me to avoid using my granny gear.

I arrived in Bourbon. It’s a town. I went by Bourbon high school. I’ll bet there are some stories there.

It was 4 pm. I’d ridden 47 miles and hadn’t had lunch. So I ate a massive sub sandwich and drank a gallon of Diet Coke.

The meal revived me so I continued o. To Cuba to shave a few miles off tomorrow when rain is expected.

Cubs is the Mural City. Having missed photos of the monk and the Dubois, I give you the mural from the offices of the local newspaper.

The Mule is holding up. It’s making a ticking noise that I can’t find. I broke a toe clip strap today. And my front brake cable is stretched. (It’s new.) so I have some bike business to attend to this evening. There’s a bike shop in a town dorm the road too.

So my first week on the road is done.

59.5 miles. Total mileage: 440

No Name Tour: Day 5 – Getting a Push

My hotel is the tallest building for miles (I was on the 24th floor). It made faint creaking sounds from the wind. They didn’t keep me up. Nothing could have. I was exhausted.

I started the day with a short ride to Abraham Lincoln’s house. It’s in a cute, preserved neighborhood with wooden sidewalks and gravel streets. Unfortunately I was 90 minutes too early for a tour so an exterior photo would have to do (sorry Jessica).

I was anxious to get on the road because the wind, albeit a light one, would be at my back. I made it two more miles before stopping for breakfast at a diner.

Eggs, sausage, hash browns, toast, and coffee.

Burp.

With a full tank of gas, I boogied out of Springfield on a rail trail. The solitude was lovely but the trees along each side blocked the wind. Still, I was clipping along at twice yesterday’s speed with no effort.

In Chatham the trail gave way to hilly roads through suburban developments. Once clear of them I was on level country roads with my friend the wind nudging me along.

I started bonking after 25 miles and stopped at a gas station shop for food. I managed to gag down some Gatorade, pretzels, and crackers then hit the road again.

The temperature was in the low 60s and I struggled to keep my body temperature under control. A jacket was too warm but a shirt alone was chilly. I opted for chilly and continues south on a rather poorly maintained rail trail.

Five miles later I was back on 66 which was a frontage road for I-55. With good pavement and the wind at my back I was comfortably cruising at 14 miles per hour.

Bonking again, I stopped for lunch at a family restaurant in Litchfield. The service was glacially slow but my body appreciated the opportunity to recharge. I had a Wisconsin butter burger (a cheeseburger with a dollop of butter on top and a glob of mayo on the bottom).

Fortunately the waitress knew CPR and I was back on the road with a belly full of fat and grease.

It was just what my body wanted. I was riding in the 14 – 17 mph range and came to the town of Mount Olive where I visited the grave of Mother Jones, the famous labor activist.

How does he find such interesting historical stuff? When you’re going 10 mph through town the signs every two blocks are hard to miss.

I was briefly considering riding the wind for another 20 miles but after six more I arrived in Staunton and called it a day. By the way, Staunton, Virginia is pronounced Stanton. In Illinois, locals swallow the second “t” so that it sounds like Ralph Kramden called his friend Norton.

The Super 8 here is inexpensive and has breakfast. Much more importantly it’s located next door to a Dairy Queen.

Guess where I’m going as soon as I post this?

71.5 miles for the day brings the tour’s five day total to 295.

No Name Tour: Day 3 – Getting My Ass Kicked on Route 66

At the motel last night I watched the Nats play the Cubs on TV. I fell sound asleep in the 4th inning (or thereabouts) and woke up at 1:30. I stayed up for a few hours then faded away until 6:30.

I ate a pathetic motel breakfast again (cereal, OJ, coffee) and headed out into a stiff headwind that never relented.

I just put my head down and did my best. 8 miles per hour.

The route occasionally had a path next to it. The path was made from half the old roadway. It was nice and had Burma Shave signs.

Don’t pass on hills or curves

If the cops don’t get you

Morticians will

Burma Shave

I crawled along until Normal. Normal strikes me as a strange name for a town. It practically begs you to suspect the place is full of weirdos.

Normal gave way to bike paths through Bloomington. I wonder if the locals call it Abnormal.

I became hopelessly lost about the same time as I started bonking. I was not a happy camper.

With help from the google I escaped Bloomington but managed to bypass all kinds of restaurants and food stores.

I ended up at a crappy gas station shop and made do with a chocolate chip ice cream sandwich and two Gatorades.

Here I discovered it was 83 degrees outside. So had heat to augment the lovely headwinds.

I have to say that this was one of the hardest rides I’ve ever done. I did 88 miles into a headwind last summer but that was downhill with cool temperatures. (And the views along the Blackfoot River in Montana were awesome. The Illinois prairie not so much.)

Back on the trail I decided to end the day at McLean. They had a Super 8 with a diner across the street. I got there as yet another nasty thunderstorm was approaching.

At the diner I ordered breakfast. There was enough food for three people. Oink.

I noticed a few morbidly obese people in their yards along the road today. There were several more at the diner. Depressing.

Tomorrow’s forecast is for more fun with heat and headwinds. At least the hotel has a much more ample breakfast set up that I will attack with Kennedy-esque vigah.

41.5 miles today. Total so far 212.5.

No Name Bike Tour: Day 2 – Getting My Kicks

Something must be wrong. I slept like a log and my knee didn’t ache. Good thing I was in a hotel because a storm went through the area and had golf ball sized hail.

The complementary breakfast wasn’t worth the price. A small bowl of Raisin Bran, toast and jam, and coffee. Normally I’d eat everything twice but not today.

It was a dreary day with cool temperatures and drizzle. On went my rain jacket.

On the road by 8:30 or maybe 7:30. I have time zone confusion. On the way out of Kankakee I was treated to the curse of the miles long freight train. Actually it was fun watching it roll by. Forever.

Once freed I was treated to a tailwind for most of the morning. I had decided to ride west to intersect Route 66 in Dwight, Illinois. I let the google do the navigating.

Off I went on country roads, a very pleasant experience until I hit the unpaved part. “Continue for 9 miles.” The google likes to joke.

After about five I turned off and headed to the two lane highway.

Did I mention that these roads are level. (Bike tourist never use the “f” word.) I was clipping along at 15 miles per hour with little effort. What a pleasant contrast to yesterday’s slog.

The fields were quagmires so I knew camping wasn’t going to happen.

As I rode into Dwight, some 37 miles after I began, I could tell I was bonking. The fuel from breakfast was used up. Fortunately there was a family restaurant at the turn to Route 66. (Family restaurants are ubiquitous in the Midwest.) I ordered lunch and was thrilled to see piles of food arrive at my table. It took me close to an hour to down it all. No crumbs for the mouse this day.

Just before entering the restaurant I checked my weather app. It predicted a thunderstorm for the next two hours. It was a false alarm.

I rode 66 southwest with the wind aiding my effort. The highway is concrete with many patches and pot holes. Many years ago the state decided to let the western two lanes deteriorate. It reminded me of snowmobile trails in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

My original plan was to stop in Dwight but it was barely afternoon so I forged ahead to Pontiac. On the way I passed through Odell where I crossed my route from last year. I re-took a picture while I was in town.

Pontiac boasted several museums. I went into the Route 66 museum. It was filled with memorabilia. I thought of my friend Rachel’s descriptions of the Haines, Alaska Hammer Museum.

Route 66 changed course several times. In Pontiac there are sections that date back to the late 1920s. Somebody decided to build a bypass in 1930.

There are restored buildings along the road from time to time. The Standard Oil station was cute. It would have looked better with a big 1930s car out front.

Despite the fact that the trail is clearly marked and that I had an actual map of the road, I missed a turn south of Pontiac. The level terrain made it no big deal, perhaps an extra two or three miles, but I felt embarrassed to have screwed up something so simple.

I recovered and found my hotel outside Chenoa. The desk clerk is from Gurjarat in India. It’s amazing how many small town hotels are staffed by Gurjaratis. I often wonder how they find these places.

After check in I discovered the tap water had the faint smell of sulfur, probably untreated well water. I’ll be buying bottled water for tomorrow.

So Day 2 ends at 70 1/2 miles. I’m hoping the Nats v Cubs game is on the telly tonight.

Props to all the folks back home who participated in Bike to Work Day. Thanks to Monica for offering to grab a shirt for me.

No Name Tour: Day 1 – Headwinds, Rumble Strips and Thunderstorms

The day began with my in laws taking us out to the Fingerhut Diner in beautiful downtown North Judson, Indiana. Maybe it was pretour jitters but I couldn’t finish my omelet. My tummy was in knots and my left knee was barking at me.

We went back to the in-laws’ fabulous home atop a sand hill (the land around here is either sand or bog). I packed up and my mother in law offered me some granola bars and a fig bar. I put a few in my handlebar bag because what’s a few more ounces when your bike weighs a ton.

The engine

Hugs and kisses were followed by me riding The Mule down the curving driveway and into the wind.

Crops are only now being planted around here so the vast fields offer little break from the constant winds from the south and west. I was going west south west so my entire day was spent fighting the wind. Of course, as the day wore on the wind speed increased. Did I mention that I hate weather?

The county farm roads were empty but disconnected so I had to use two lane highways from time to time. I spent about five miles going south on US 421. It had rumble strips along the narrow paved shoulder leaving me no choice but to ride in the travel lane. I spent most of the time looking in my rear view mirror (if you tour without one you are a fool). Dozens of tractor trailers and dump trucks passed me. They all gave me plenty of room. Only one honked at me.

I turn west onto Indiana Highway 10. No rumble strips! But still beaucoup trucks. Fortunately 10 gave way to some paved county roads that I had all to myself. I used the google to navigate the grid and made it quite along ways on these bike friendly lanes.

Better than a rail trail

Alas, all good things must come to an end as I rejoined 10 with still more trucks. Cowering to the edge was a bad idea. I caught my front tire in some gravel and nearly crashed. Luckily my wheel caught pavement and I recovered traction.

As I headed due west I could see the skies on the horizon darkening. On coming traffic had its headlights on. No bueno.

First state line of the tour

I arrived in the Illinois town of Momence and stopped to check the weather radar. As I did I heard a rumble of thunder. The radar showed a massive line of dark red approaching from the near northwest. It had dozens of lightning strikes displayed.

Eek!

I have been caught riding in Midwest thunderstorms several times before. They are scary. Heavy rain. High winds. Hail. Lightning.

Fortunately the google indicated that a fast food joint was only two blocks away. Having ridden 50 miles with only the fig bar to eat since breakfast I understood that the universe was telling me to eat some French fries.

And do I did. I munched slowly as I waited an hour for the storm to pass. Thinking ahead I made a motel reservation ten miles west in Kankakee.

After the storm passed, I hopped on The Mule, made two turns in Momence and rode 10 miles straight to the motel. I didn’t even care that scores of cars zoomed past me as I rode.

And so I arrived at the Super 8 covered in road spray but feeling pretty darned good about the first day of the tour.

I still have no idea if this left knee of mine will hold up to daily abuse but there’s only one way to find out.

Onward to Bicycle Route 66 tomorrow.