Leaf peeping to Bethesda

For a variety of reasons, I found Saturday’s 62-mile bike ride to be frustrating and exhausting. To make matters worse, I didn’t even bother to take pictures of the beautiful scenery I was riding through.

Today’s ride was better. I left home in shorts into a 43-degree headwind, headed for Rock Creek Park in DC for some good old fashioned leaf peeping. The first ten miles were a chilly slog; I was underdressed and the headwind felt like a relentless uphill grind.

After 10 miles, roughly at National Airport, I found a rhythm. Five more miles cruising along the river brought me to the mouth of the wooded urban canyon known as Rock Creek Park.

I was happy to find that the walls of the canyon blocked the headwind making for much easier pedaling. For a few miles I rode the paved trail without a care until I arrived at the National Zoo. The trail continues along the edge of the Zoo compound, but the Smithsonian which owns the Zoo had closed off the trail because of the government shutdown. The trail which doesn’t actually go into the Zoo itself could just as easily been left open but whadareyagonnado?

Riding north in the southern part of Rock Creek Park

I duck-walked my bike on the narrow side path through the adjacent tunnel along Beach Drive, the road along the Creek. Once back in the open air, the rest of the ride was mighty sweet. The grade of the road probably averages about one percent as it winds its way along the creek. With very little traffic of any sort, the riding was peaceful and mediative. I stopped to have a snack and take pictures.

The grade is not nearly as steep as the picture shows. Easy riding.

At about 25 miles, I began the climb out of the Park and rode west a couple of miles to Bethesda where I picked up the Capital Crescent Trail for the return trip. As I started out I passed two dog walkers who had between them about a dozen dogs on leashes. The dogs seemed perfectly calm as they ambled en masse down the trail.

The riding was easy and breezy thanks to the tailwind and the gentle down grade all the way to the Potomac at the Georgetown waterfront. As the day wore on, the cloud cover was building. I wasn’t dressed for rain so I got down to business and rode without delay.

In Old Town Alexandria I encountered some mist. Is that rain? Nope, just river water churned up by my friendly tailwind.

The tailwind made the last few miles a piece of cake. I arrived home feeling much better than at any time during Saturday’s ride. Riding when your 70 is something of a crap shoot, I suppose, but just think how the Mule feels having broken the 81,000-mile mark somewhere in Alexandria today. The Mule didn’t complain once. The Mule abides.

Natchez Trace Tour Prep – Going Long

With warming temperatures it was time to put on some shorts and go long. I’m still not completely over my cold but I have to take advantage of this weather while I can.

On Monday I rode The Mule into a stiff headwind for about 27 miles. My route was flat for the first 15 miles, using the Mount Vernon and Rock Creek Trails. Most of the rest of the ride was the gradual uphill to Bethesda on the Capital Crescent Trail.

I stopped at a trailside rest area just before Bethesda Row and had a packet of Belvita breakfast biscuits. 230 calories. Then I continued northwest past the National Institutes of Health and through North Chevy Chase.

I took a right on Beach Drive in Rock Creek Park and followed it all the way back to Georgetown where I retraced my route back home. All told I rode 54 1/2 miles. It was nice having a tailwind for the second half. I realized that 230 calories is nowhere near enough so I made a mental note to up my food game.

Monday was a rest day. I tootled around the Fort Hunt area where I lived for 20 miles. I felt sluggish before I rode but as soon as I started pedaling my body was, you might say, in gear.

My original training plan was to do 50 miles, rest, 60, rest, 70 rest. Today the weather was pretty darn good. Sunny skies with temps up into the 70s. So off I rode, once again following yesterday’s route to DC. This time, however, the wind was at my back. After a cheese sandwich snack, I left the Capital Crescent Trail after a couple of miles and climbed the steepish hill away from the river to MacArthur Boulevard. I took MacArthur six miles west, including the grind over the reservoir complex. At Persimmon Tree Road I left MacArthur and climbed. After about a mile the road transitioned to rollers, just the kind that can wear you down. At River Road in Potomac I took a left and headed west. River Road has a series of challenging hills that are definitely granny worthy. Just when I thought I had run out of gas I came to Seneca Creek where I took a left and rode to Rileys Lock on the C&O.

To get to the towpath I crossed over the dry canal. I hadn’t counted on the sides of the canal being so steep so I didn’t have enough momentum to crest the far side of the ditch. I came to a stop and planted my right foot. I knew I was in trouble. It was just too steep. As I swung my left leg over the bike to dismount, the bike and I slid and we toppled over to the right. I heard a “SNAP” on impact. After feeling utterly foolish for falling, I got it together and pushed the now-upright bike onto the towpath.

After a few hundred yards I was happy to see that my fall hadn’t damaged the rear derailer. All my gears worked just fine. The snap faded from my thoughts. I pedaled aggressively down the towpath, now into a headwind, several miles back to Great Falls Park where I stopped to eat my PB&J sammie and reload my water bottles.

Rather than continue down the flat towpath, I climbed about a mile out of the park back to MacArthur Boulevard. The climb is very much like those out west, anywhere between one and four percent grade, requiring more persistence than strength. One thing I noticed is that my climbing form had reverted to the mechanics I used so successfully in my cross country ride in 2018.

Over the top I rode with the big metal things down the windy wooded slope. This is one of my favorite stretches of road in the DC area. Once at the Old Anglers Inn, the road levels out. Now I had to grind away for about 27 miles to get back home.

As I rode I munched on my last packet of Belvitas, stashed in my vest pocket. I could tell that I was starting to flag when I had to re-cross the hill at the reservoir. I was pooped.

Just keep going.

When I arrived at Gravelly Point Park I stopped to finish off my Belvitas and watch a few planes land into the headwind. While watching I felt something odd about my right break lever. As it turns out the snap that I heard during my pathetic flop was a piece of plastic trim on the brake lever. Other than protecting the inner workings of the lever from rain, I don’t think it has much of a purpose. I guess I try to find a replacement somewhere or, failing that, attempt a superglue repair.

The last 11+ miles were a slog but I made it home in one piece just before the sun set. The middle of my back was pretty achy (it felt fine while riding) so I took an Advil. I’m going to slide my saddle back a smidge to see if that helps.

My total mileage today was 77 1/2. That’s the longest I’ve ridden since late July and easily the hilliest ride I’ve done since the 50 States.

Tomorrow is a rest day. I go to the eye doctor and maybe get a Covid booster. (I need to check with my insurance to see if they’ll pay for it.) And maybe I’ll bring my bike to some shops near home to see if they have that plastic brake part.

As for this evening, I will eat like a Conehead. Mass quantities.

The Mo Mo Tour: Day 10 – Troutville to Christiansburg

I didn’t sleep well last night, probably because I washed down my Subway (the closest place to the hotel) meatball sandwich with a 24 ounce beer.

I did myself proud at the breakfast bar, finishing with two apples and two bananas for the road.

I rode on a local highway to get back to the route, stopping at a Kroger on the way. I picked up some Bel Vita cookies and some flatbread (I ate my tortillas back in Lexington.)

The temperature was already in the 70s so I knew I was in for a warm day.

Back on the road I took Catawba Road west towards Gravelly Ridge. After ten miles I stopped to eat an apple and banana. The two-lane country road was busy with dump trucks. I heard a massive explosion in the distance. Soon I passed Roanoke Cement, the mining company that blows up mountains and processes the rocks (and coal, apparently).

After the mine, I encountered sawtooth terrain, one short, steep hill after another. Combined with the increasing heat, these hills were beating up my legs and my mental state. I pushed The Mule over the top of three of them, all the while thinking how will I ever do the truly big climbs head?

The road surface wasn’t helping. An especially bad part was the descent to a creek bridge full of huge potholes.

I crossed into Montgomery County and the road leveled out. Even better I hit a five-mile section of new asphalt. I stopped for a quick snack before attacking the last third of the day’s miles.

The skies behind me were darkening as a scary looking cloud formation, flat and dark, came over the ridge to my left.

I started to look for shelter as I rode. That porch looks okay. That barn will work. But I kept pedaling, now with slightly cooler temperatures and a strong tailwind. My body and mind were feeling much better.

I knew from the elevation profile in my maps that the ride climbs 500 feet in only a few miles just before the finish. I stopped in the town of Ellett to fortify myself with Gatorade and ice cream at a CSCS.

About two miles later the climb began. I’d ride until my heart and respiratory rates were maxing out. After a few minutes, I’d get back to work. The third time I did this I was weak in the legs, making restarting dangerous; I could wobble in front of a car or into the ditch next to the road.

I pushed The Mule up around a bend and there was the top at last. As it turns out, Christiansburg is at 2,000 feet of elevation.

Once into Christiansburg, I rode to nearby I-81 where my hotel is located. The front desk clerk informed me that it was 89 degrees outside.

As I’m writing this a classic summer thunderstorm erupted outside.

Tomorrow is a short mileage day to a highly recommended Warmshowers host in Draper. They won’t be ready for me until 4 p.m. so I planning on sleeping in.

Miles today: 49.5

Tour miles: 547

After the sawtooth section I saw this. I’m saved!!! Alas, it was closed

The Mo Mo Tour: Launch Eve

Well, for a start, the tour has a name. Since I’m riding to Missouri that’s one Mo. it’ll be my third time in Missouri so that’s mo’ Mo. I’m going beyond Missouri that’s mo’ riding. Since I’m dealing with the Appalachian and Ozark Mountains, we have mo’ mountains. If successful I’ll be adding three mo’ states (Kentucky, Arkansas, and Oklahoma) to my 50 states hunt.

The plan is to ride south to Ashland Virginia where I will pick up the Transamerica Trail. I’ll head west on the TransAm all the way to western part of Missouri thereby completing my personal TransAm. (I did the other two thirds of the Trail in 2019 and 2022.) After that the plan is to ride south to northwest Arkansas and then west to Tulsa, Oklahoma (and maybe Oklahoma City). How I’m getting back is anybody’s guess.

Saturday

For the first time in a week, I managed eight hours of sleep. Gabapentin is my jam.

The weather was lousy outside. Rain. Humid. Dank. Perfect.

I spent the afternoon, amassing the stuff I need for the tour. I started by emptying my saddlebag. It must weight 10 or 15 pounds! Spare tube, tire levers, patch kits, and pump were transferred to the “tour” pile. The bag became the “home” pile.

Next I grabbed a bunch of white kitchen garbage bags and some zip lock bags. I use the former as a liner for my allegedly water proof panniers. The latter contain small items organized by use.

My right rear pannier was first to load. Sleeping bag, sleeping pad, pillow, camp towel, camp washcloth, rope, clothes pins, and maps and medications I won’t need for the first ten days. I’m also packing a wire mesh bag for my food for camping in the mountains.

The left rear pannier contains clothing (for off bike and on), swim trunks, rain gear, a floppy hat, toiletries and daily medications, and sandals. Rain gear is in a separate bag. An empty bag is reserved for dirty clothing. I’ll also add a small bag with electronic stuff like cables, plugs, and batteries tomorrow. My back-up prescription glasses go in the bottom.

The front panniers are smaller. The front right pannier contains anything I need for bike maintenance. Tire changing stuff goes in one zip lock. Spare tubes in another. Tools (allen keys), a wrench, a master link tool, go in yet another. Small items like valve stems, my fiber fix spokes (a cord that can substitute for a broken spoke), and such go in a third. I also stashed a couple of cables in a small insert built into the pannier.

The front left pannier contains stuff I will need easy access to. Mostly this is food, my lock, sunscreen, butt cream, a back up water bottle when needed. (I decided to leave my water bladder at home.) I also included one small bottle of pickle juice and and another of electrolyte tablets.

The handlebar bag will hold my phone and headphones, wallet, dog defenses (whistle, horn, and mace), a pen, my map(s) of the day, prescription sunglasses, a power pack, a headlight, some pickle juice, electrolyte tablets, and snacks.

Finally, I will have a dry bag containing my tent, stakes, ground cloth, and collapsible cane.

Now you see why it took four hours to organize all this stuff. It will weigh a lot; it always does. In my experience the weight isn’t much of a problem – I’ll be going about 10 miles per hour – except for the hills. My biggest concern is how my body will hold up. I’ve done a number of 50-mile rides in recent weeks but my back and neck issues are utterly unpredictable. Lord knows, how they will hold up to tent camping. Even when in good shape, I have struggled to sleep well outdoors. Advil, Advil PM, and Gabapentin will help in that regard.

Sunday

Today I loaded The Mule with all the bags and went for a one-mile test ride. I tweaked a few things as a result and all seems fine. My last task is to go for a ride to a bike store for done butt cream packets.

The Mule with everything except toiletries, meds, cables, and batteries.

It being a nice day I decided to ride Big Nellie. On the way to Old Town we rode across the now officially opened Dyke Marsh Bridge.

Day one promises to be very long, 70 to 85 miles depending on where I stay tomorrow night in or near Fredericksburg Virginia.

Watch this space.

January 2023 – Dang

Just typing the title of this post makes me feel old. I can’t believe it’s 2023. As usual January was a bit gloomy around here but the temperatures have been relatively mild and there hasn’t been a flake of snow to be seen. Alas. a cold burst is expected in the days ahead.

Riding

Because of the good weather I managed to ride 832 miles, an all time record for me for January. And most of it, 716 miles, was outdoors. My longest ride was 57 miles from Purcellville to home. It was a bit much for this time of year.

I rode all four bikes this month. I gave the drop bars on Little Nellie one more 30-mile try before finally giving up and buying some straight handlebars. I should have the bike back soon.

After many years of procrastinating, I became a life member of the Adventure Cycling Association. (I have been doing tours on and off for over 20 years.) I have used ACA resources numerous times in my planning and during my trips. I honestly don’t know how I’d have done my last four tours without their help.

I rode my CrossCheck until it hit 26,000 miles, then switched to The Mule on dry days. It feels weird riding a bike without fenders. Fenders or not, The Mule rides like a dream You’d never know it has over 69,000 miles on it.

Watching

I watched two movies this month. Both on Netflix.

All Quiet on the Western Front is a new German version of the classic book. It’s very well done and is justifiably in line for beaucoup awards. Felix Kammerer is the lead actor. He didn’t get nominated for a Best Actor Oscar but he should have. The movie is one of three recent films about The Great War – the others are 1917 and They Shall Not Grow Old – and I recommend all three.

The Wonder is the tale of a British nurse who is dispatched to rural Ireland in the time after the Hunger (the mid-1800s). She is sent to observe a Catholic girl who has gone without food for four months. The movie is a contemplation of the madness of religious zealotry. Florence Pugh is quite good as the nurse.

Reading

I plowed through the last three of my Christmas books, having read The Bullet that Missed in late December.

American Lion by Jon Meacham is a biography of Andrew Jackson. Meacham is surprisingly empathetic. He wrote the book before Trump became president but it’s hard not to make comparisons. Narcissism is a strange substitute for policy. Previous presidents acted more as administrators carrying out Congress’s policies. Jackson viewed himself as president of the people, treating Congress more as a body to be manipulated than obeyed. Meacham also explains how Jackson was instrumental in keeping South Carolina from seceding twice, delaying the Civil War for over 20 years.

The Winners by Fredrik Backman is his third novel about two hockey mad towns in the remote north woods of Sweden. It’s a 660-page soap opera involving a cast of characters that would make a Russian novelist proud. It was an entertaining read but I much prefer his non-hockey books such as A Man Called Ove and Anxious People.

Riverman, An American Odyssey by Ben McGrath is the true story of an old man named Dick Conant who traveled the rivers of the United States in an overloaded canoe. Conant chronicled his travels in three massive volumes that McGrath discovered after Conant went missing in North Carolina. McGrath contacted the characters that Conant interacted with along the banks of the waterways he rowed. The book very much brought to mind so many characters that I’ve encountered on my bike tours such as the man with the perfect beer belly in Indiana, the sister wife on the run from abuse in Washington state, and the scuba diving anti-vaxxer who ran a bowling alley cum diner in a small town in Kansas.

Once the Christmas books were finished I made a quick trip to the bookstore.

Dickens and Prince by Nick Hornby is a series of essays comparing Charles Dickens and the musician Prince. Hornby flashes his infectious wit making comparison between the two. Both were creative and prolific geniuses who seemed to never stop producing their art. And they both had an eye for the ladies in abundance. Dickens sometimes wrote two novels at the same time releasing them in serial fashion as he wrote. Prince wrote and recorded thousands of songs in all kinds of musical styles often playing all the instruments and singing all the vocals himself. It’s a strange comparison but Horny makes it work.

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel is a novel about survivors of a swine flu pandemic that wipes out 90 percent of the world’s people. It was published in 2014. Her descriptions of the spread of the virus gave me flashbacks to those horrid days in 2020 when New York City’s hospitals overflowed with untreatable Covid-19 patients. It is eerily reminiscent of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road and Lionel Shriver’s The Mandibles, two other books set in aftertimes. I bought this one on a whim and found it well worth the time.

Winter (?) Work

It’s been a snowless winter so far here in the DC area. Temperatures have been warm-ish, with only a couple of days below freezing. I’ve been riding nearly every day which means that my legs think it’s April. My bikes are another story.

I have four bikes and every year I use the winter to get them fixed up. Bike shops are generally not as busy this time of year. Of course, if I had a shred of mechanical skill, I’d do the work myself but as Dirty Harry once said: a man’s got to know his limitations. Or, in other words, my best repair tool is my credit card.

I am fixing my bikes in the following order: Little Nellie, The Mule, the Crosscheck, and, maybe, Big Nellie.

Little Nellie is getting a makeover. The bike is in pretty good shape but I have never liked its drop handlebars. As I get older, I find that riding Little Nellie is really hard on my lower back. A contributing factor might be the long reach to the brake hoods. In any case, it has never felt comfortable, even after getting a shorter stem. Nearly every day I see a man of a certain age buzzing about on his Bike Friday. He has flat handlebars and seems to be quite comfortable. So, I decided to swap my drop bars for handlebars. I could have bought some run of the mill flat bars from a local bike shop but, unlike Bike Friday bars, they are not split in the middle for easy packing. I frequently stuff the bike in the trunk of my car and a single-piece straight bar might not work. Moreover, the bike is designed to be disassembled and put into a suitcase so having split bars would make this much easier.

I contacted Bike Friday to buy a set of handlebars from them but amazingly they blew me off. Their web site no longer has a shopping page. Since they are still selling bikes, they obviously must have bike parts but they wouldn’t sell me a handlebar. I got online and found a bike shop in the DC area that sells Bike Friday tandems so I called them. They had several split bars that I could check out. I drove about 50 miles and compared about six or seven bars. I originally had planned to use straight bars but the shop had set of H-bars, straight bars with vertical end bars. I bought them then brought the bike to Bikes at Vienna for the work.

After a few days, Daniel the mechanic at B@V called me to tell me that I need a new front wheel. The rim is original and has almost 23,000 miles on it so I am not surprised. Between the cost of the bar, the new wheel, new brake levers, cables, housings, and such the total cost of the conversion is about triple what I had planned on. I hope it works. It should be ready sometime this week.

When I pick up Little Nellie, I’ll drop off The Mule. The Mule needs a whole lot of work. The bar tape is shot. The front brake has a skipping action which I suspect means the wheel needs to be trued. I had some problems adjusting the tension on the rear break and may need to replace it. A few months ago I destroyed both fenders and will need new ones. I’ll probably replace the chain and cassette too. They still have some life left in them but changing them now means I won’t have to change them again until after the summer. Finally, the front derailer gave me trouble last summer. It may just be the nature of using aftermarket chainrings that have no ramps (which guide the chain during shifting) combined with shifting under stress. Anyway, it’s worth checking.

Once that is done, the CrossCheck goes in for service. Because I don’t tour on it, it gets a lot less stress than The Mule. Still it needs new wear items: bar tape, chain, and cassette. Maybe brake pads. It has a weird front rim that has a notch between the braking surface and the part that the spokes connect to. That notch eats brake pads. I’ll probably live with the rim since brake pads are cheaper than rims.

Big Nellie is down in the basement on the resistance trainer. It’s in pretty good shape. The shifting is a little sloppy but I can live with it as is. I’ll evaluate it once the weather gets warmer and I can take it for a long ride outdoors.

While all this work is being done my thoughts are turning to a summer tour. Stay tuned.

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 – 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 – Eureka to El Dorado

Last night was full of worry. How was I going to ride 72 miles with no services in a brutal crosswind with gusts up to 50 mph? Add to the challenge my super hard 84-mile ride yesterday and the fact that the only breakfast place in town was closed for Memorial Day.

What’s a Rootchopper to do?

For a start I spotted cars pulling into the Pizza Hut across the highway as I was lubing my chain last night. I decided to buy a pizza and save some for breakfast. That solved one aspect of the problem. I had saved half a Dagwood sub from yesterday’s lunch at Lizard Lipps. (Basically it’s a small brick of meat and bread.) I could get 30 miles out of that bad boy, for sure.

But the crosswinds would be even stronger. Gusts of up to 50 mph were forecasted. About 58 miles of the TransAm route would have featured crosswinds.

I woke at 4 a.m. and came up with an alternative. Instead of following the TransAm route through Cassoday to Newton, I’d ride 31 miles straight west to El Dorado on a two-lane highway. If I was feeling my oats, I could continue on to Newton from El Dorado. This route would be a few miles shorter than the TransAm and give me a viable bailout point if things got nasty.

After downing some cold pizza, I headed for El Dorado. The first 19 miles coincided with the TransAm. I figured that if things were going well, I could scrap the El Dorado idea.

Things did not go well.

The first four miles weren’t too bad but the winds intensified as the ride wore on. Once, again, again, again, and again gusts blew me off the pavement onto the 8-foot wide unpaved shoulder. My right arm was getting worn out from trying to control the bike’s direction. Big vehicles zooming past at 60 mph either hammered my front with their wake or sucked me to the left. The latter was quite scary.

I had to be on my toes constantly. (Speaking of toes, my shoe repair last night seems to have worked. Dunno about the tent repair.)

I plodded along going slower and slower up the ridges in the Flint Hills. Every so often there would be a wind break but increasing elevation seemed to anger the wind gods. By mile 14 I’d been blown off the road 10 times. Then a truly powerful series of gusts knocked me off the road four times in a mile.

I gave up trying to spin in my lowest gear and started walking. When the winds calmed (to perhaps 20 mph) I started riding again.

At the town of Rosalia, where the TransAm turned north, I decided to continue west to El Dorado. I was pooped. What a shame to miss out on 20+ miles of tailwinds to Cassoday.

The highway dropped the unpaved shoulder but I still had about three feet of paved shoulder to work with. The big gusts had abated and there were continuous wind breaks for several miles. Yay! My speedometer rose into double digits . Yay!

But I was toast. I stopped every two miles to rest. I made it to El Dorado a little after noon about four hours after I left Eureka.

Having already had lunch for breakfast, it seemed logical to have diner breakfast for lunch. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, toast, coffee, and two gloriously tall glasses of ice water.

Kansas has the best bacon. Wide, crisp, and salty. So salty. Did I mention salty?

Once I got back on the bike, my legs decided that I was done for the day. I rode to one motel then another to find one with laundry machines. The Baymont Inn not only had them but they were operated by credit card.

Tomorrow the winds out of the south will continue until late morning then shift to the northeast. Storms are forecasted for much of the day. It’s about 40 miles to Newton. I’ll stop there unless the wind gods push me to Hutchison where there is free lodging for cyclists. Then I’ll let the weather forecast and motel availability decide if I’m going south to check out the Gyp Hills Scenic Highway and Dodge City.

I’m pretty much on schedule to get to Canon City by June 11. Plenty of time to take a day off unless something unforeseen happens.

Mileage today: 34. Tour mileage: 544.

There’s lots of flint in these hills. The further west, the more rocky the fields were.

Couldn’t resist buying this yesterday. Came in handy at laundry time.

Bike Tour 2022 – Erie to Eureka

Lord this got hard.

I had a decent dinner at a bar in town last night. Southwest chicken salad. It was huge. I ate it all. No contest. I also had a beer for the first time in weeks. The menu suggested “Ask about our craft beers”. So I did. All of their beers were mass market. I ended up with a Blue Moon because I needed the orange garnish in a big way.

Riding back to my tent in the park I saw a sign for Dinosaur Park. It was just a block from my tent. A little corner lot filled with dino skeletons made from spare parts. Genius!

I hit the hay before sunset but never really fell asleep. Tossing and turning all night. The wind finally calmed down for a few hours. At 4:30 I gave up trying to sleep and started to break camp. I was doing great with my tent, having pulled all the stakes out of the ground, when a big gust launched my tent 20 yards.

During the disassembly a part of the tent that pulls the side of tent out fell off. The tent is still usable but a bit claustrophobic. I’ve used this Big Agnes tent maybe ten times so this failure really pisses me off.

After a sumptuous breakfast of bean dip on tortillas, I headed out at dawn. Erie was still abed, it’s citizens tired from the raw excitement of Saturday night on the prairie.

My first two miles were aided by a huge tailwind out of the south. A great way to start the day. Then I turned west. The cross wind wasn’t so bad for 14 miles. A right turn had me sailing the winds for four miles into Chanute. In 2019 we couldn’t take this route because the entire area was flooded. I didn’t recognize anything.

In Chanute I stopped at WalMart for some glue to use on my tent and my shoes which are falling apart. (Duct tape has been getting a lot of use.)

The WalMart cashier suggested a diner in town. Good stuff but as I have come to realize nobody in the service industry in Kansas is in a hurry. Breakfast took over an hour.

Back on the road with the engine properly fueled I surfed the cross winds for 15 miles before turning south. Dang! The headwinds were brutal. I turned off the main road to check the offerings at the convenience store in Benedict. This little town is epically impoverished. The convenience store was scuzzy and, just like 2019, closed.

Back on the main highway I rode what is essentially a causeway between two planted fields. The fields are about 10 to 15 feet below the road. In 2019 the flood waters were nearly up to the edge of the road. The road has no shoulders, just an immediate drop off to the fields. Unlike 2019, traffic was light so it wasn’t as scary. I could have done without the crosswinds though.

As the day wore on the winds picked up. I passed many fields with cows grazing. (Heifers bring $1.79 per pound in Missouri. The things you overhear in diners!) After one such field, I saw two donkeys; one was braying loudly at me. It must have recognized The Mule.

A quick check of my phone told me that a diner in the next town was closing at 2. With tailwinds pushing me, I made it in plenty of time only to find the diner didn’t exist. I pushed on to my last hope for food three miles north.

As I rode several ATVs sped past me. When I reached the gas station convenience store all the ATVs were parked there. I went inside and the place was packed with the ATV people. As has been the case everywhere I go around here, none of them were masked. I wore a cloth mask, but I probably should have worn an N95 respirator. If I get Covid I’ll know where I contracted it.

The store has a deli. It took me a few minutes before I realized that this was Lizard Lipps cafe in which I had eaten in 2019. All TransAm riders get a little plastic lizard to zip tie to their bikes. I still have my 2019 lizard on my stem so I’m going to have to get creative with the placement of the new one. I also signed the guest book. I looked up my previous signing and there were the entries of our five man TransAm posse. (Two sped ahead after a couple of days.)

From Lizard Lipps to the next town was an 18-mile slog through strong crosswinds. I was on a highway with broad unpaved shoulders. Three times the gusts blew me clear off the pavement. Passing trucks with big wakes amplified the winds too.

Miles 78 to 80 were into a stifling headwind. I often used my granny gears just to maintain forward momentum.

I arrived in Eureka, passing many old businesses that were closed. A Pizza Hut (a bad one as I recall) with an outdated sign. Cherokee Chinese & American restaurant. La Taqueria B&B.

After over 80 miles of winds on a poor night’s sleep, there was no way I was going to camp in the town park.

A note on the terrain. There are very few steep hills but the road slopes upward gradually. Every so often there’s a rise, like a big step, then back to the gradual incline. The last 15 miles have been in the Flint Hills. No more brick streets.

Nothing is open. Tomorrow being Memorial Day means that many businesses are closed. I don’t know how I’m going to get to Newton 80 miles to the west with more crosswinds and unreliable resources. If I stay here I get to deal with the prospect of violent thunderstorms on Tuesday. I’ll figure it out in the morning.

Todays mileage: 84.5 Tour mileage: 505

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