tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46994893103703221172024-03-19T18:02:43.910+08:00It's Just a RideDavidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-23548837155764408642008-07-20T22:03:00.003+08:002013-01-16T07:20:55.435+08:00"Ah hell, the worst they could get is a warning!" - Day 28<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPN0G-mCRlIGzwlhi44Lu2dF7lco9oxJU2pAaalCrR2I4KCusRkabDhpgrqohNK6tnwGwLoKvSnlYPDUHmrqcDnDCr2k1fDR8iEDuEi1SML2_Fqd3-pAvXDpw6EBfqQNAvLV5gT_Z80AQl/s1600-h/Screenshot-Towanda,+PA+to+Milford,+PA+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238828859487992290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPN0G-mCRlIGzwlhi44Lu2dF7lco9oxJU2pAaalCrR2I4KCusRkabDhpgrqohNK6tnwGwLoKvSnlYPDUHmrqcDnDCr2k1fDR8iEDuEi1SML2_Fqd3-pAvXDpw6EBfqQNAvLV5gT_Z80AQl/s400/Screenshot-Towanda,+PA+to+Milford,+PA+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>When I write tomorrow we'll be finished! Not a lot to report from today, other than that Pennsylvania is stupid hilly. We met two friendly motorcyclists at the top of a hill that had a nice view of the beautiful wooded farmland below and exchanged e-mail addresses with them.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4KPUUjyWsZYhyphenhyphenrKNZD62MwLl3phmxqwFv3ndIvWjc7rKL1diAsvhGbXYP-XjEOsucQMy0B7_B3bVSI90nZ6pncqiOfGmgUNcL4de8JVuYhmzqWniwEHTSK-TUeUnM7oeKpCkhBPnQoqdi/s1600-h/img_0490.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238829566166364754" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4KPUUjyWsZYhyphenhyphenrKNZD62MwLl3phmxqwFv3ndIvWjc7rKL1diAsvhGbXYP-XjEOsucQMy0B7_B3bVSI90nZ6pncqiOfGmgUNcL4de8JVuYhmzqWniwEHTSK-TUeUnM7oeKpCkhBPnQoqdi/s320/img_0490.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>As we pedaled past Heart Lake, the director of the camp that owns it saw us looking longingly at its cool waters. He invited us to disregard the no trespassing sign and hop on in. It felt great to cool off and have wet clothing during the afternoon.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibTNV7kCoZ-g_v7mdH-5FK1EH-DB8qLaqtg8bfiRKxzSj6O3dByKvW3OiPM-EcdgPltdib0KnhKezm4pKZ9DZNwJIJPow3PSvkdtJiomsnNFXIzHZyOq6bekT9NConjuPAfcJATeUiOejf/s1600-h/img_0491.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238829573153667202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibTNV7kCoZ-g_v7mdH-5FK1EH-DB8qLaqtg8bfiRKxzSj6O3dByKvW3OiPM-EcdgPltdib0KnhKezm4pKZ9DZNwJIJPow3PSvkdtJiomsnNFXIzHZyOq6bekT9NConjuPAfcJATeUiOejf/s320/img_0491.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>We stopped for lunch at a diner in Jermyn. When we asked for directions to get back on Route 6, a nice old lady told us to just get on the expressway on the outskirts of town. Another gentleman retorted that the "staties" wouldn't allow it. The old woman replied "ah hell, the worst they could get is a warning!" Needless to say, we rode illegally on Route 6.<br />
<br />
My achilles was acting up with all of the hills, so our pace wasn't great as the day went on. I was able to pick some rasberries along the side of the rode while waiting for Travis, which was nice. Before we realized it, we had ridden past the bigger towns and were committed to make it to Milford. This was unfortunate, as the sun was setting and eventually set. We had 8 miles to go when it got to be dark. It was downhill into Milford but we had to take it a little slower than we would've liked because Travis had the only light. I still set a maximum speed of 41 mph in in the dark though!<br />
<br />
In Milford, we grabbed dinner before looking for a place to pitch our tent. We were having no luck until we rode by the United Methodist Church, where the lights we were on. Pastor David kindly opened the church for us to use the restroom and allowed us to camp in the yard. I can't wait for tomorrow; we've only got 91 miles left!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaY-mZO2gPdJpj47Q1qqEmzIk2EnPwkY4xc_bB7YE6FwJjJDnL-SwaPsHwRk5AHSuHMVdV4iyJr1BhIv94GbvoxrD40TOAW9FARnHouxcIrbgTwJp_KDpWqKrnxg7YOzJ2OmEKPmITRDFF/s1600-h/img_0492.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238829576032838706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaY-mZO2gPdJpj47Q1qqEmzIk2EnPwkY4xc_bB7YE6FwJjJDnL-SwaPsHwRk5AHSuHMVdV4iyJr1BhIv94GbvoxrD40TOAW9FARnHouxcIrbgTwJp_KDpWqKrnxg7YOzJ2OmEKPmITRDFF/s320/img_0492.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a><br />
<table style="text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr></tr>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">9:50:59</td><td style="text-align: center;">120.7</td><td style="text-align: center;">3179</td><td style="text-align: center;">12.2</td><td style="text-align: center;">41.0</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-59745663904898386132008-07-20T12:44:00.000+08:002008-08-22T13:05:13.815+08:00"Endless mountains." - Day 27<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHgSlYquv6gfEw_5hDYqyXqYT-ggobqXLGLDdd-tDh8HJxt1Uqj1Vf_Xct5RJEVf2hgJYRL4sGAuN-nnPHDHF_5T2wXcPWCkyOx6NErJkkivP1dN-8z3wDKlDzcVW3KQvhLzQ_H1HaK1Sz/s1600-h/Screenshot-East+Smethport,+Keating,+PA+to+Towanda,+PA+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHgSlYquv6gfEw_5hDYqyXqYT-ggobqXLGLDdd-tDh8HJxt1Uqj1Vf_Xct5RJEVf2hgJYRL4sGAuN-nnPHDHF_5T2wXcPWCkyOx6NErJkkivP1dN-8z3wDKlDzcVW3KQvhLzQ_H1HaK1Sz/s400/Screenshot-East+Smethport,+Keating,+PA+to+Towanda,+PA+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237198753557962594" border="0" /></a>Two days to go! The tent keeps smelling worse and worse, after getting wet during the rainstorm in Iowa and with me sleeping in it not having showered since west of the Mississippi River in Davenport. Fortunately, after tonight we'll only have one night left in it!<br /><br />When natured called this morning, we immediately turned to the old outhouses on the baseball field where we were staying. The men's was locked, but Travis was able to get into the women's. It was undoubtedly the filthiest restroom I have ever used, but we were both overjoyed at its convenient location just 100 feet from our tent.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjYSDtPGLUCoPAjb4nWoY-ZCynC9lT3lysqJJMboBIQPIwMaPSxGJDmWMPAUanIs-bfXKIhLRagI9rf3dGUkwWSQIAn7CPeEpMzltDOu7dEvvJY0q0zVBR9kM-UfthdeYzWlj4F4KsdPr/s1600-h/img_0482.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjYSDtPGLUCoPAjb4nWoY-ZCynC9lT3lysqJJMboBIQPIwMaPSxGJDmWMPAUanIs-bfXKIhLRagI9rf3dGUkwWSQIAn7CPeEpMzltDOu7dEvvJY0q0zVBR9kM-UfthdeYzWlj4F4KsdPr/s320/img_0482.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237199301273630514" border="0" /> </a>We made it out of Smethport along the supposedly closed road that the guys at the bar recommended. We made good time most of the day considering the hills and it went by rather quickly. We've started to find the most ridiculous stuff funny and it's easy to tell that we're both getting very anxious to be finished on Monday.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL-ZD8sp8niYKE1rxBYngKqD2fXn18g8a_KisgDyZzOoW7DBZWPFIlFHwtexbp3fUzGLgXe9q1WIjHp_RoN9RtWeEuUJEWKd95NcToffOd0pUZm-EAiIEQmSjLp90Faj9qEP2dVjr36hFG/s1600-h/img_0485.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL-ZD8sp8niYKE1rxBYngKqD2fXn18g8a_KisgDyZzOoW7DBZWPFIlFHwtexbp3fUzGLgXe9q1WIjHp_RoN9RtWeEuUJEWKd95NcToffOd0pUZm-EAiIEQmSjLp90Faj9qEP2dVjr36hFG/s320/img_0485.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237199308046037890" border="0" /></a>We finally broke 3,000 miles today, which is about 600 more than the great circle distance between Seattle and Stamford. But it leaves us with under 300 miles to go.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiq_OS7a9JkK3Of9qyj1HbWAYU_emt5eTR3bKhfVkjvglbE9NAEIWKZAwjyf8hFN1Xhzd84gKRs_oc_Ddq1QSKxqd8GmkL3TSGWN52joZ49zw4cdbf22_YDfdMdtd8ktXf6fj90YFD9B-v/s1600-h/img_0486.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiq_OS7a9JkK3Of9qyj1HbWAYU_emt5eTR3bKhfVkjvglbE9NAEIWKZAwjyf8hFN1Xhzd84gKRs_oc_Ddq1QSKxqd8GmkL3TSGWN52joZ49zw4cdbf22_YDfdMdtd8ktXf6fj90YFD9B-v/s320/img_0486.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237199309766955090" border="0" /></a>Our destination for the night was Towanda, where we got Chinese food and went to a crappy bar where a guy with a ridiculously animated handshake pointed us in the direction of a park across the river. It's super hot out and our sweat adds to the stench in the tent. The thought of only one more night is an extremely welcome one.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ3kDRICt053zD_gB6v0yjeZ36WtpsCDmrWAVFd9LLUcEHqJ05gtuH2qDTY9TMC1wk3X7a5LYTqfFWnwqNHTV0CH4NeKmP59YPVQSDpjwfYxXpsr_p20UFjNodC69xDWaA5Wj69jb7N3Bb/s1600-h/img_0487.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ3kDRICt053zD_gB6v0yjeZ36WtpsCDmrWAVFd9LLUcEHqJ05gtuH2qDTY9TMC1wk3X7a5LYTqfFWnwqNHTV0CH4NeKmP59YPVQSDpjwfYxXpsr_p20UFjNodC69xDWaA5Wj69jb7N3Bb/s320/img_0487.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237199316542902178" border="0" /></a><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">9:19:44<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">124.7<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">3058<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">13.3<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">41.6<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-70933012839807957972008-07-19T12:21:00.001+08:002008-08-26T22:02:08.796+08:00"There are bears all over the place." - Day 26<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4YmMNx6qth9uNeW6WXca6qJYTiKw8q_7_KE_n6OhcbjJt1f1IZ-GO__iAP6rA7qnBBynHBksqqTWYQH-4abpkhx9QIrfRoEf9ZvC_BrF8M3WdjVEsOqhELxn1cR7HMGB_nuV63gCh0tnS/s1600-h/Screenshot-Blooming+Valley,+PA+to+East+Smethport,+Keating,+PA+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4YmMNx6qth9uNeW6WXca6qJYTiKw8q_7_KE_n6OhcbjJt1f1IZ-GO__iAP6rA7qnBBynHBksqqTWYQH-4abpkhx9QIrfRoEf9ZvC_BrF8M3WdjVEsOqhELxn1cR7HMGB_nuV63gCh0tnS/s400/Screenshot-Blooming+Valley,+PA+to+East+Smethport,+Keating,+PA+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237194657581419298" border="0" /></a>Today was a pretty lackluster day. Last night the tornado or fire alarm went off repeatedly, making it difficult to sleep. We woke up around 6:30, got breakfast at a convenience store and hit the road around 8:45. Highway 77 was ridiculously hilly, taxing me and slowing Travis down a lot. We finally made it to Corry a little after noon, where we hit Highway 6, which we'll be able to take Highway 6 across the entire state. The convenience stores are a lot more stingy about letting us use the restrooms out east, which has been frustrating.<br /><br />We were making slow time when Travis got our first flat since South Dakota, a pinch flat from a rock. His repairing skills were a little rusty, but we made it nonetheless. It's interesting that we stopped about every other day at a bike shop out west, but the last one we visited was in Sioux Falls. We also continue to see a lot of roadkill. Travis remarked that he thinks we see one piece about every mile or so. I doubted him and decided to test it. No sooner had I commented we should test his theory when I spotted a dead bird. Perhaps one per mile is an underestimate.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yEcOPqci5lHIzLJLEEhg6BebP1viLCIwYIlqmJYNfp3CnfE7ZgODXdDbHPZsklP6dSpXaz-YNFAI-r2YvFFKRFwlncWg0UTxDeLzZ8SCVHS68Gr5Hpf_Ae4MVAGsS-1VBduP2aNlsC8s/s1600-h/img_0480.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yEcOPqci5lHIzLJLEEhg6BebP1viLCIwYIlqmJYNfp3CnfE7ZgODXdDbHPZsklP6dSpXaz-YNFAI-r2YvFFKRFwlncWg0UTxDeLzZ8SCVHS68Gr5Hpf_Ae4MVAGsS-1VBduP2aNlsC8s/s320/img_0480.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237194569373055474" border="0" /></a>We continued slowly through Warren where we got Subway, and through Kane where we got groceries. I was finally able to find some prunes, which was a welcome relief. We set a goal of making it to Smethport, since it looks to be about the only town big enough to have a bar. Travis and I both think that we seem more isolated here than in Wyoming where the population density was considerably less. Perhaps it's because the people are less friendly, or at least more backwater.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3sSphvbjWdI__KyFE_6uXHUY2YN8aNB54UcD_ZkVxBHXI8yVXUdIM6WQHQauK81rKgu7yYxxP9aQmerSnhWlmqEjda1JYPpB91eJ0yl2B-ujdl4vNU2pZ2SUSyJkG7y4Ep-wu3m9vHQL/s1600-h/img_0481.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz3sSphvbjWdI__KyFE_6uXHUY2YN8aNB54UcD_ZkVxBHXI8yVXUdIM6WQHQauK81rKgu7yYxxP9aQmerSnhWlmqEjda1JYPpB91eJ0yl2B-ujdl4vNU2pZ2SUSyJkG7y4Ep-wu3m9vHQL/s320/img_0481.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237194575013361410" border="0" /></a>We grabbed a bite to eat at Hull's in Smethport, which was a little pricier than we would've liked and didn't accept credit cards. A gentleman there recommended that we head to East Smethport to an old baseball field to avoid the cops in the "borough." There, some local kids with a 2 x 6 board took interest in us as we were setting up the tent. They were ready to rumble with whomever was trespassing on their turf, but after realizing we weren't a threat, they settled down. They did warn us that there are bears everywhere, but we're taking our chances without a bear bag. Tally ho!<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">9:03:58<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">118.8<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">2934<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">13.0<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">39.9<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-8697226948417196722008-07-18T11:37:00.000+08:002008-08-22T12:20:16.604+08:00"Roadkill smells so much worse when wet!" - Day 25<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdX73Ylur5X-RU5hvCJTA1AwlulAa_hp0qrrOa36ox9V8uVzvJqsh1hKN8nYxUO_He9qHBWLLV2ZhIb3QhzPtBd-5JakvG4CsnOR2leT1QhIpXjiS20-h5CRmZ-Gk9ULdANEWZ5_b2c-eP/s1600-h/Screenshot-Hinckley+Hills+Rd-OH-606++to+Blooming+Valley,+PA+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdX73Ylur5X-RU5hvCJTA1AwlulAa_hp0qrrOa36ox9V8uVzvJqsh1hKN8nYxUO_He9qHBWLLV2ZhIb3QhzPtBd-5JakvG4CsnOR2leT1QhIpXjiS20-h5CRmZ-Gk9ULdANEWZ5_b2c-eP/s400/Screenshot-Hinckley+Hills+Rd-OH-606++to+Blooming+Valley,+PA+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237184316883265474" border="0" /></a>Great news! The ride just got 500 miles longer! But we'll get to that later. Woke up this morning without being accosted by raccoons or park rangers. We left but I had to drop #2 like nobody's business. The first two towns didn't have convenience stores with restrooms. I was getting desperate and was a little bit ahead of Travis going up the hills in the national park. I spotted a porta-potty in the woods, threw my bike down in a spot where I thought Travis would see it and took care of business. When I finished, Travis was not waiting at my bike like I expected and had already ridden up the hill a half mile or so to a convenience store where he expected to see me. Since I wasn't there, he went on.<br /><br />I went to the gas station to plug in my cell phone so that I could call him, left a voice mail and continued east. I stopped again at a McDonald's, thinking again that he was ahead of me and needing to plug in again because my battery was dead. Travis called and said he was ahead, so I set off after him. I was so concentrated on looking for him, that I didn't see the signs for Route 303 and ended up taking Highway 14 southeast to Ravenna. He realized I should've caught up to him already, called me and we made a plan to meet in Freedom. After asking for directions at a day care center, we finally met up in Freedom; hence the two paths in today's route map.<br /><br />It was another slowish day after the delay I caused while we were separated. Around the Pennsylvania border we realized we probably wouldn't make it to Stamford until Monday evening, which is fine. The hills are beginning again, which is fun, but also harder. It has also been warmer and I went through another 3 slushee drinks today.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfbOFVBGIl-KgsaNKGnaW8_SPf4SIAX6nMRfHtOLPKYjbdMUxhrH8nGylY2SdL1Fax4A10ER8kmn4jZIgvuzXRu71Ibzf6VVdynihbx5T2F30kWQVvr5M0AOlE1JEtsy8oWte305P0C0XQ/s1600-h/img_0478.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfbOFVBGIl-KgsaNKGnaW8_SPf4SIAX6nMRfHtOLPKYjbdMUxhrH8nGylY2SdL1Fax4A10ER8kmn4jZIgvuzXRu71Ibzf6VVdynihbx5T2F30kWQVvr5M0AOlE1JEtsy8oWte305P0C0XQ/s320/img_0478.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237189411317929602" border="0" /></a>On the way into Meadville, we saw another biker come out of a church. He decided to "go out of his way to help us" by riding next to us in the traffic lane as we went up an arduous 1.5 miles climb to Blooming Valley on Highway 77. Turns out he was a born again Christian who had recently had a bad bike accident, didn't wear a helmet, got arrested while intoxicated and went nuts in the backseat of the cop car, had recently made love to a woman without compunction, claimed to be super humble, thought we were real american bikers, was in constant communication with Yahweh (the one true living god), and seemed mentally unstable. After directing us to a diner, but also giving us directions to a pub, he turned back around and headed back down the hill we had just spent 20 minutes climbing. After his prosyletizing, we were in desperate need of a beer and made a beeline for the pub.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3uFTjFbyxNbY06pWQEAFbyWlKyHh4U0_16sXnc-6FZ5nlBCtxGcngViFEyxaP34g-iUcrG6ZtjlgvkHbhH2RjBZYEU2e8qOLUUa7uEMIsgxIigVXjIeP1hhgSpVw5ke_ApNb0b9D9sz3_/s1600-h/img_0479+%28Modified%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3uFTjFbyxNbY06pWQEAFbyWlKyHh4U0_16sXnc-6FZ5nlBCtxGcngViFEyxaP34g-iUcrG6ZtjlgvkHbhH2RjBZYEU2e8qOLUUa7uEMIsgxIigVXjIeP1hhgSpVw5ke_ApNb0b9D9sz3_/s320/img_0479+%28Modified%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237189414134254866" border="0" /></a>One crazy dude<br /><br /></div>We're only 3 miles away from the biker we met in South Dakota, Jason's, house. We dropped his name at the bar, and one of the bartenders who also happens to be the fire chief's daughter, knew him. She treated us well by asking if we could camp on her father's property. ANother man in the bar, "Gus," paid $20 for our next meal, which ended up being this one as we were low on cash and they did not accept credit. Everyone was very friendly and interested in what we are doing.<br /><br />As I got into my sleeping bag, my friend Laura sent me a text inviting me to North Carolina on her family vacation there. Google says it's only 460 miles from Stamford to Kitty Hawk and then her family could give me a ride to St. Louis where it should be cheap to get a flight back to Denver. So that's the new plan and the reason for the bike ride getting so much longer. Yay!<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">8:55:05<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">114.2<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">2815<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">12.8<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">44.9*<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>*Broke Travis' previous speed record and set the new high!Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-55316596448194889832008-07-17T10:53:00.002+08:002008-08-22T12:06:34.083+08:00"Something has happened in China which is out of our control." - Day 24<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCdUctsZUn9hLHUVlJlaiRD4439jXGYvIBbolE70Pj1cy9kI9pCwAo1-NgJG7lEzD2OOyq29Ls_SWbCOZiz4NAhgs2tOBVG3nK6eV8dixLk6iAOUxI14-5pPRrwoO3EA1cmaG5XRPTc8t/s1600-h/Screenshot-Lyons,+OH+to+Hinckley+Hills+Rd-OH-606+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNCdUctsZUn9hLHUVlJlaiRD4439jXGYvIBbolE70Pj1cy9kI9pCwAo1-NgJG7lEzD2OOyq29Ls_SWbCOZiz4NAhgs2tOBVG3nK6eV8dixLk6iAOUxI14-5pPRrwoO3EA1cmaG5XRPTc8t/s400/Screenshot-Lyons,+OH+to+Hinckley+Hills+Rd-OH-606+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237171401512953154" border="0" /></a>Possibly 4 days to go! Holy cow! From where we are now, Google says it's 495 miles to Stamford, CT. That's crazy to think about! We woke up bright and early at 6 this morning, got breakfast at the convenience store in Lyons. Unfortunately, I was still feeling full from last night's meal at Lyon's Den, and didn't eat much.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdPVAHX07H0NyHZQqO9ttKbL-YgGcVRIpi3VWxSgq1T2jDRYOaUF62FoPnomVWt2M6lGA9-R7aWuqVuojhndsuK_irmL9nxY2nt2BuEDQm_nRDHYWztU67hGurBddWNDQ0qN2GLe7l5N0/s1600-h/img_0474.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijdPVAHX07H0NyHZQqO9ttKbL-YgGcVRIpi3VWxSgq1T2jDRYOaUF62FoPnomVWt2M6lGA9-R7aWuqVuojhndsuK_irmL9nxY2nt2BuEDQm_nRDHYWztU67hGurBddWNDQ0qN2GLe7l5N0/s320/img_0474.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237172172009623874" border="0" /></a>We headed towards Highway 20, enjoying Ohio's nearly perfectly flat landscape and a very slight tailwind. We didn't set a goal for today, rather we just decided to bike until dark or we got tired, trying to make at least 120 miles.<br /><br />I have been planning since March to spend my next year teaching English in China, and have been trying to coordinate visas, contracts, and medical forms during the trip. As a result, I have e-mails from the company I am working with forwarded as text messages to my phone. Today in the middle of the day I got a text that said "Something has happened in China which is out of our control. After your ap" Since the text message cut off the rest of the message, I didn't know what had happened. I was able to call my friend who is also going to China, and he informed me that the Chinese were no longer granting visas for foreign teachers in the province where we were supposed to be teaching. So for now, the upcoming year is in limbo.<br /><br />Besides some construction, it was a pretty regular day, if a little slower than what we've been used to with a tailwind. We've recently discovered that ICEEs and Slushees are wonderful ways to cool off; I drank three yesterday alone! I had another craving today, so we skipped Subway today and had lunch at Burger King, where the lemon ICEEs are cheap and delicious.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1_lxz6EHIdTsBXDiw3yf8KKyDpm4dzta88bdYnVNgyyaEDI1Cp3CgapHMZyzE0X7dB51EnMd-U2aCSZtWmUICgntZexZxS3CP3Pr2jBDUModur5c0XsjI2gMRBmQwdju195bPBxDXtfjX/s1600-h/img_0475.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1_lxz6EHIdTsBXDiw3yf8KKyDpm4dzta88bdYnVNgyyaEDI1Cp3CgapHMZyzE0X7dB51EnMd-U2aCSZtWmUICgntZexZxS3CP3Pr2jBDUModur5c0XsjI2gMRBmQwdju195bPBxDXtfjX/s320/img_0475.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237172177233273778" border="0" /></a>I needed a break after we hit 120 miles around 5:30 pm in Lagrange, where we set a goal of Hinckley, which was another 20 miles. We got Subway to go for dinner and were directed by the townspeople of Hinckley to the Hinckley Reservation to camp. They told us that it was illegal, but also pointed us in the direction of a secluded area of the park where we shouldn't have any problems. Hopefully we'll make it through the night without any major problems. Otherwise, our spirits are high with the end seeming so close. We've been picking up the average for the past few days though, and it has been taking a toll on our bodies.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1c62Yb8aYZ8J_aOAwt1FCWLpErE3y28j9Hj8ptwV_PSDIxfeHfntpCcnN0vVRbXhGw8Jfwjzghdp_0lC_-mmBeK9KjhRNxIwdc1nbumFRH2VVTGOzk8utMLflso0wpoPGjdwHUclMkt8g/s1600-h/img_0476.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1c62Yb8aYZ8J_aOAwt1FCWLpErE3y28j9Hj8ptwV_PSDIxfeHfntpCcnN0vVRbXhGw8Jfwjzghdp_0lC_-mmBeK9KjhRNxIwdc1nbumFRH2VVTGOzk8utMLflso0wpoPGjdwHUclMkt8g/s320/img_0476.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237188521558242642" border="0" /></a><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">10:20:05<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">142.5<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">2700<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">13.7<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">37.9<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-33779460389531531282008-07-16T05:22:00.001+08:002008-08-22T12:02:50.011+08:00"Let's leave before they kill us." - Day 23<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3pMh_N7highjMpt9I7Z6qDVemFeOPMjWepoIiJmQNO7wTmxzeGU1TZ1dU_0YR3mvUX62tDmMqB7EDO2iqzRd1EVCt71wsLOxbJ4c7RjBKk6Rnu5jIEmLmeX1XjLoleTdqbFa4gb4XJMvR/s1600-h/Screenshot-Grape+Rd++to+Lyons,+OH+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3pMh_N7highjMpt9I7Z6qDVemFeOPMjWepoIiJmQNO7wTmxzeGU1TZ1dU_0YR3mvUX62tDmMqB7EDO2iqzRd1EVCt71wsLOxbJ4c7RjBKk6Rnu5jIEmLmeX1XjLoleTdqbFa4gb4XJMvR/s400/Screenshot-Grape+Rd++to+Lyons,+OH+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237085891671253330" border="0" /></a>We were off to another late start this morning after the luxury of sleeping inside. We plotted a way out of South Bend and set off, intending to take highway 20 most of the day. But disaster struck as we rode down the on ramp, which had a sign declaring that bicycles were prohibited. When we stopped to check the map for alternative routes, a seemingly friendly man suggested that we take a county road to Dunlap. However, the county road went to Goshen, so we were forced to backtrack north to Highway 20 where bicycles were once again allowed. The silver lining was that we met a friendly woman named Emily during our second breakfast at Martin's supermarket in Goshen. She offered to let us stay with her and gave us directions back to the highway.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSsWOEr-BHoOH76g1t3KIvfzKVUihmAksDkifdLT0DGJpkqQoanfn56FMg5nEdETgmuTtg4_SjDfIYEJymjN_sa62vMeOdf8LDq6R7OjoBGeCTpaLTlPDb5d60_RYlvuLrIA77u5BzAFUb/s1600-h/img_0470.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSsWOEr-BHoOH76g1t3KIvfzKVUihmAksDkifdLT0DGJpkqQoanfn56FMg5nEdETgmuTtg4_SjDfIYEJymjN_sa62vMeOdf8LDq6R7OjoBGeCTpaLTlPDb5d60_RYlvuLrIA77u5BzAFUb/s320/img_0470.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237109768381296578" border="0" /></a>It was smooth sailing with a bit less than normal roadkill amounts until we got to Ohio. Just across the border there was a big billboard advertising a tourist information center, and since we had just vowed not to buy an Ohio map, we opted to stop.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp_Z7wWnNoG8WLGo9VmlizS4b4S1w5MZSW8_wBd4JgqSXIA4DWeVw9XeRjwIF42H5FntZxmPgNPOthunTx6Jy1zNzLYSkPMkGvbabk7X5mLRYaGtaPUQuhwU5mVv4KUf2yXodWZEdGDc-o/s1600-h/img_0471.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp_Z7wWnNoG8WLGo9VmlizS4b4S1w5MZSW8_wBd4JgqSXIA4DWeVw9XeRjwIF42H5FntZxmPgNPOthunTx6Jy1zNzLYSkPMkGvbabk7X5mLRYaGtaPUQuhwU5mVv4KUf2yXodWZEdGDc-o/s320/img_0471.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237111488316594674" border="0" /></a>The "tourist center" was set into a dirt hill with an enormous TV antenna and gravel parking lot. THere was a rusty mailbox by the door that said "Ohio maps," but was empty. We opened the unlocked door and inside found somebody's cluttered home with the TV on. It reeked inside and our calls of "hello" went unanswered. I turned to Travis and said "let's leave before they kill us." Which we promptly did.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Vg5BcaF9YAyRkvSODzj143n66bQsZtKoTgkb3MDUwXyzaCSQMmHgR2GUGtBFPkFGLjlxSs34kQzt4HRyzhDw5np6aEJqTvD2mJNzNQ5Y-Cq3nke9ROsGiZ58fFrrc8PxBydO30dtZxwa/s1600-h/img_0472.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Vg5BcaF9YAyRkvSODzj143n66bQsZtKoTgkb3MDUwXyzaCSQMmHgR2GUGtBFPkFGLjlxSs34kQzt4HRyzhDw5np6aEJqTvD2mJNzNQ5Y-Cq3nke9ROsGiZ58fFrrc8PxBydO30dtZxwa/s320/img_0472.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237109788863570866" border="0" /></a>We continued east on Highway 20, stopping only to try a few grains of wheat. We had been warned about bringing pepper spray for dogs, but hadn't had any problems until today. Travis was ahead of me when I heard him yelling expletives. I looked to my right and saw a vicious dog at full sprint charging out of an unfenced yard. Needless to say, I poured on the steam, shouting expletives myself and veering into the center of the road to add more distance between his teeth and me. We made it out unscathed and probably gave a fun show to the minivan behind us.<br /><br />After asking for the town with a bar at a junction in the road, we ended up at the Lyon's Den bar in Lyons, Ohio. There we gorged ourselves, got a free beer from Raymond, and a map of Ohio from the bartender. We were fortunate to get it, as there isn't just one highway heading east towards Pennsylvania. The bartender gave us some "bakers" (baked potatoes) for the road, and we were directed to an old school yard to pitch our tent. We're still on a good pace to be finished sooner than we expected, even though our average speed today was a little slow.<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">9:16:36<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">129.4<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">2558<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">13.9<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">32.1<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-23864818614781373102008-07-15T04:52:00.000+08:002008-08-22T05:11:53.579+08:00"University of Dame Notre...LEE!" - Day 22<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIi7YE8tAhyJ3KXD4xBl1DdFgdIQGp1cDnRMfNppIvS4xbWeBkG4EY9qm5kwahpYZsTJK6c6XY42LG4VOAzqyjVXg7nyz2F2kjwTE1_KZRSE8kg5G4ugKGuWHb9tmEqVDtclkDW9y2xhb9/s1600-h/Screenshot-Fremont+Ave++to+Grape+Rd++-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIi7YE8tAhyJ3KXD4xBl1DdFgdIQGp1cDnRMfNppIvS4xbWeBkG4EY9qm5kwahpYZsTJK6c6XY42LG4VOAzqyjVXg7nyz2F2kjwTE1_KZRSE8kg5G4ugKGuWHb9tmEqVDtclkDW9y2xhb9/s400/Screenshot-Fremont+Ave++to+Grape+Rd++-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237077801400681906" border="0" /></a>Woke up late this morning a little before 8 am. Right at 8, a park ranger came by and collected $6 for camping one night. I found it humorous that on the receipt under "Vehicle License" he wrote "bikes." We quickly packed up, deciding to get breakfast at a convenience store. There we picked up an Indiana map. I was looking at the University of Notre Dame and noticed they had inverted the word order on the map. I pointed this out to Travis, causing him to exclaim loudly "LEE!" It turns out that we have a mutual friend who is studying there, so we set a lofty goal of making it to South Bend, 129 miles away according to Google's phone text service.<br /><br />We set off zig zagging across Illinois along various county roads towards Highway 2 in Indiana. It took us 50 miles and into the afternoon to reach it, but it was almost entirely flat. Once in Indiana we lost our tailwind and Google indicated that it was still 104 miles to South Bend, although it doesn't reply with the shortest route. We were worried about making it, but the flat and the motivation to sleep inside kept us going.<br /><br />On the highway a few miles outside of South Bend, something hit my front wheel and then flopped into the guardrail. I didn't get a good look at it, but judging from the noise I would guess it was a bird. We've seen and smelled all kinds of road kill but this was the first that we've made.<br /><br />We rolled into downtown South Bend just after sunset, where Lee met us and guided us to Subway and his apartment. We stayed up late chatting but got to check internet and sleep indoors. We have finalized with Jocelyn our plans and Google says it's only 734 miles from here. We should be there in 7 days if we continue at this pace.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrACAAn5hvUW_Z-Dv34-HRqgzdMlot8JY5siFCatKeatvUsdChb0AadCRjiZCvq_w9MA5btttnDKNsp3ym7_PX_9WA_t_VvWQLz2uKW7UNmNepB1wzFC5_CXeE05thVEAtQCc1QWHhRh18/s1600-h/img_0468.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrACAAn5hvUW_Z-Dv34-HRqgzdMlot8JY5siFCatKeatvUsdChb0AadCRjiZCvq_w9MA5btttnDKNsp3ym7_PX_9WA_t_VvWQLz2uKW7UNmNepB1wzFC5_CXeE05thVEAtQCc1QWHhRh18/s320/img_0468.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237077670228042866" border="0" /></a><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">10:15:36<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">156.3<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">2428<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">15.2<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">27.7<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-75324417907827730442008-07-14T04:13:00.000+08:002008-08-22T04:51:30.343+08:00"I think I have a broken rib." - Day 21<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGNhAIiP5OJ7ya0f6tSuTOYzD5YaCZJmN2cGBT6_iY4yU7q8U-9V3mhumPURAj_Yx9WaWxNBNUiyWehV6RIXlcw2_h4ih2K7oRte58lXms9thEXhJZEA99crs0w0kuiXNbXA1EoM1wlGk2/s1600-h/Screenshot-Wisconsin+Ave++to+Fremont+Ave++-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGNhAIiP5OJ7ya0f6tSuTOYzD5YaCZJmN2cGBT6_iY4yU7q8U-9V3mhumPURAj_Yx9WaWxNBNUiyWehV6RIXlcw2_h4ih2K7oRte58lXms9thEXhJZEA99crs0w0kuiXNbXA1EoM1wlGk2/s400/Screenshot-Wisconsin+Ave++to+Fremont+Ave++-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237068883682463026" border="0" /></a>Our rest day yesterday treated us well. I finally satisfied my craving for cereal with two bowls of cereal and orange juice for breakfast. Laura and Karen made muffins for us, gave me buttered pretzel sticks, and each of us two nut rolls. Plus, looking at Google Maps it looks like we'll be in Illinois for just one night.<br /><br />We got on the road at 8:45 and stopped at HyVee for supplies. There, I again indulged in some fruit, eating two juicy and delicious peaches in the parking lot. A few minutes later we were riding our bikes over the Mississippi River towards the finish line in New Jersey/New York/Connecticut. I am still trying to solidify our plans to stay with Jocelyn so it remains up in the air.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPt2TztBcsucOSGlaiTyyyagHQ0oWwnnA9iAxEeZa1f85wKKOu7AcuxYG4T00ZV77JML4HICOwpSzgRCnjz4Qw83UylJAQ6Gp8ZoPzRAylN85HEJeI4PVmMSZh0r2w82kTCI4qZ5Jgh2Wo/s1600-h/img_0458.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPt2TztBcsucOSGlaiTyyyagHQ0oWwnnA9iAxEeZa1f85wKKOu7AcuxYG4T00ZV77JML4HICOwpSzgRCnjz4Qw83UylJAQ6Gp8ZoPzRAylN85HEJeI4PVmMSZh0r2w82kTCI4qZ5Jgh2Wo/s320/img_0458.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237068735694172450" border="0" /></a>We had great westerly tailwinds and were making good time, but I could tell that Travis was struggling. We pulled into a gas station where he told me his side that he had injured in Rapid City, SD was acting up. He thinks it's possible a rib is broken. Knowing that there isn't anything that can be done besides painkillers, we called an exercise and sports science friend who recommended Ibuprofen and an ace bandage. We spent the rest of the day looking for a place that would sell one until we came to a town about 60 miles later with a Walgreen's. By that time though, the ibuprofen had kicked in and we continued east through Illinois.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYM4qXWN2JI7EzsaXaJYoPAi1cd3FZFLwsT_j0CS8OFQHFbpnpxSrVepgN3862tMI4IB24RroLlV2xKXnYdYQJZpl0q9XzW8whrlNc-ouuYj_5GpkZmBEwnoAaxTlz-8-jLv6bkamtVHgO/s1600-h/img_0460+%28Modified%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYM4qXWN2JI7EzsaXaJYoPAi1cd3FZFLwsT_j0CS8OFQHFbpnpxSrVepgN3862tMI4IB24RroLlV2xKXnYdYQJZpl0q9XzW8whrlNc-ouuYj_5GpkZmBEwnoAaxTlz-8-jLv6bkamtVHgO/s320/img_0460+%28Modified%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237068739935111490" border="0" /></a>With our tailwind we still made it to Morris around 7:15, even with all of our stopping. A sign on the way into town indicated tent camping to the south. We followed the signs to a state park, the tenting area of which is no more than 100 yards away from the houses in a nearby neighborhood.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJeHNxVKEseAx65lkYdHA9-so1Mj1GoWuYFbK8woe1jgtBE6RwvmGtxIwbKXlQ2Et-0EjrCh0BdKkJO-4l8d_LBLj6-jf7AhiS-kbv8_1dF6gEhh0NoFLw6BQsn6uzouoWYpf76dNg8ZQp/s1600-h/img_0466.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJeHNxVKEseAx65lkYdHA9-so1Mj1GoWuYFbK8woe1jgtBE6RwvmGtxIwbKXlQ2Et-0EjrCh0BdKkJO-4l8d_LBLj6-jf7AhiS-kbv8_1dF6gEhh0NoFLw6BQsn6uzouoWYpf76dNg8ZQp/s320/img_0466.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237074582969890162" border="0" /></a>We ate some canned food we bought a while back for dinner, going without dessert because we had already finished the muffins from this morning earlier in the day. Overall, a great day at a cool 80°F on Highway 6. Plus our 130 miles puts us 20 miles ahead of our 10 days to the finish schedule!<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">8:18:32<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">136.2<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">2272<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">16.3<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">34.9<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-72049489150445084092008-07-13T03:57:00.001+08:002008-08-22T04:45:30.861+08:00"Feel free to use the pool, jacuzzi, shower, laundry, watch tv, and eat and drink whatever you like." - Day 20<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUC3zxSYPYWLkHP8s3I7FA0rmLrnvEOc5sK9UYW5GGPWeECjx2OMUJh8H7cS-xt8rLQddY_V0TWxKBRNINof1bC3CCmpElupw8_J-Y3RGgLkUFgQ8fcyw6VmyV7q25ojOb4tWxzpoDJkOo/s1600-h/Screenshot-Wilton,+IA+to+Wisconsin+Ave++-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUC3zxSYPYWLkHP8s3I7FA0rmLrnvEOc5sK9UYW5GGPWeECjx2OMUJh8H7cS-xt8rLQddY_V0TWxKBRNINof1bC3CCmpElupw8_J-Y3RGgLkUFgQ8fcyw6VmyV7q25ojOb4tWxzpoDJkOo/s400/Screenshot-Wilton,+IA+to+Wisconsin+Ave++-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237062912372960738" border="0" /></a>Day 20 went mostly according to plan. We woke up around 7 as Holly and Erik got up, ate some pop tarts, and hit the road. We made it about 7 miles before hitting a detour due to another closed bridge that took us onto I-80. Knowing that it was illegal to ride bikes on it but also not knowing how else to get across, we began riding on it. I-80 is a lot busier and less enjoyable to ride on than I-90 and we made it no further than a quarter of a mile when a highway patrol car pulled onto the shoulder in front of us, lights-a-flashin'.<br /><br />The patrolman politely explained that we couldn't be there and that you couldn't pay him enough money to ride on the interstate with how dangerous it was. We cordially replied that we didn't want to be there either, that the detour took us there and we didn't want to try another way around without knowing the road conditions. He advised that we get off at the next exit, which is where the detour took us anyway.<br /><br />A scant few flat and easy miles later we rolled into Davenport and to the house of a friend of Travis' aunt. She and her sister were out garage sale shopping but told us to make ourselves at home, which we did, eating their food and taking a shower. They arrived about an hour later.<br /><br />Normally I don't enjoy sitting around doing nothing, but I cannot put into words how great it felt to sit on a sofa watching a without moving a muscle. My afternoon of rest and relaxation was topped off with a delicious and filling meal of pasta, ribs, bread, salad, potatoes, and a chocolate cookie dessert. To top it all off, we got to spend the evening in the jacuzzi.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCyK1yfwiR4S8eYOkyl0Y58qhe2SJ7eYCzkIRhnAtDx1PSTvFNqDpik0B40SxhI5w0uMZQQOFWhbdcQ6ByxHOtcc9XQH4oCqdqTVCI6hfZjGjAKvqDuIQ_DF7rEE5_tc-XWuNaUxqlYCj/s1600-h/img_0457.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCyK1yfwiR4S8eYOkyl0Y58qhe2SJ7eYCzkIRhnAtDx1PSTvFNqDpik0B40SxhI5w0uMZQQOFWhbdcQ6ByxHOtcc9XQH4oCqdqTVCI6hfZjGjAKvqDuIQ_DF7rEE5_tc-XWuNaUxqlYCj/s320/img_0457.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237066272742002530" border="0" /></a>We've been spoiled the past few days, sleeping indoors 5 of the past 7 nights and showering 6 of the past 7 days. But we don't know anybody between here and the coast, so that is likely to change. All in all, today was exactly what we needed after our hard day yesterday and I think we'll be able to finish strong in 10 days or so.<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">1:52:51<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">26.0<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">2136<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">13.7<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">21.8<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-89941801227730800302008-07-12T03:45:00.001+08:002008-08-22T04:45:46.841+08:00"You can choose front yard, backyard, or living room." - Day 19<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4UNM4k5GlV2Dfe2EPBo4CX7GmvIvE0VpkBiU1GLBSxPQVRm_8Fx2PrFT1MMNM2uyjp6nIwKVhQWoGakG6zI3hHQQw9enRVQF5EMsw8dv9ox2O_MtKek7kBYANCApbVTbRQqP0WG__-qD5/s1600-h/Screenshot-Clive,+IA+to+Wilton,+IA+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4UNM4k5GlV2Dfe2EPBo4CX7GmvIvE0VpkBiU1GLBSxPQVRm_8Fx2PrFT1MMNM2uyjp6nIwKVhQWoGakG6zI3hHQQw9enRVQF5EMsw8dv9ox2O_MtKek7kBYANCApbVTbRQqP0WG__-qD5/s400/Screenshot-Clive,+IA+to+Wilton,+IA+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236697893652537842" border="0" /></a>Day 19. Geez. This morning Ken's mom had breakfast out for us, which was a welcome improvement over instant oatmeal and convenience store pastries. We bid farewell to the Ferrells at 6:30 and after turning the right way off of their street, set off towards Davenport.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuLXvx7hzbiVJoi2jtQ0SFmyIHID0B9G2rGKCHCicv3_Tb0oU3XwoYinuvChBR3ymXMuukjrWpAezcpFNlxEb4oa3rllMapNbf-tvAbud2-Hc28gvR4LwnB6-_wjY8pK2GTeNbahMFRDqu/s1600-h/img_0452.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuLXvx7hzbiVJoi2jtQ0SFmyIHID0B9G2rGKCHCicv3_Tb0oU3XwoYinuvChBR3ymXMuukjrWpAezcpFNlxEb4oa3rllMapNbf-tvAbud2-Hc28gvR4LwnB6-_wjY8pK2GTeNbahMFRDqu/s320/img_0452.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236699671843280226" border="0" /></a>Riding early in the mornng was pleasant and we were pushing at a steady pace with our lofty goal of reaching Davenport. We hit another milestone coming down a hill outside of Grinnell, breaking 2,000 miles.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4bG0DT5DdNSAlz2cjBWP_fi1lcFiZXK91hltrvoFCqzgs8tzYg1R-FRCY2M1N5ZsZo0Ti1q3goxLpgI-ujo2PFQMp5fH0mC1N5vpKA3ctxBa_qkTXDN7Jf4aWd0D4VdKzXEXDQkabknd/s1600-h/img_0453.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4bG0DT5DdNSAlz2cjBWP_fi1lcFiZXK91hltrvoFCqzgs8tzYg1R-FRCY2M1N5ZsZo0Ti1q3goxLpgI-ujo2PFQMp5fH0mC1N5vpKA3ctxBa_qkTXDN7Jf4aWd0D4VdKzXEXDQkabknd/s320/img_0453.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236699676597382338" border="0" /></a>We were on pace to make it the whole way at 15 mph for 12 hours through the first 60 miles. We had Subway in Grinnell before trudging onward until Travis caught is front tire in a crack and went down. The tire was shot and it took some time to replace it with a spare. We endured a strong south crosswind along with moderate hills all day. Fortunately, we avoided rain though.<br /><br />We had checked the highway report online in Des Moines to avoid any closures due to the recent flooding. As a result, we stayed off of Highway 6 between Iowa City and Davenport, opting instead to take a county road to the north. We kept seeing ominous signs warning "thru traffic only" and "road closed ahead" but without alternate route, decided to keep going and hope that we'd be able to get through on our bikes. It turns out the bridge had been badly damaged and was fenced off. But we decided that we'd risk collapsing the bridge with our additional weight, rather than head backwards 6 miles to try to find another route. Needless to stay, it remained upright.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihzS6s9WGTnMTZEL3SsMaAEa38bsIDRwVC_LKlC3mXTXy0ykzB_ePlFavJ3nhHEKoqxijnv7yGiLSYP85qZE6U-Lb5ifKaWj5hXsCnppkkt_kckWbsDawyvci46oMW2kqzcfPxc0x4ZLeo/s1600-h/img_0454.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihzS6s9WGTnMTZEL3SsMaAEa38bsIDRwVC_LKlC3mXTXy0ykzB_ePlFavJ3nhHEKoqxijnv7yGiLSYP85qZE6U-Lb5ifKaWj5hXsCnppkkt_kckWbsDawyvci46oMW2kqzcfPxc0x4ZLeo/s320/img_0454.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236699683008107138" border="0" /></a>By the time we made it past the bridge it was getting pretty late. The floods had also caused us to end up crossing I-80 more times than we would've liked and a wrong turn outside of Wilton left us behind. With 25 miles to go to Davenport, we called it a day as the sun set.<br /><br />In our typical fashion, we went to the first bar with food that we saw. When we asked if anybody knew where we could pitch a tent, the bartender offered her front yard, backyard or the living room. When she called her husband to let him know she was brining to guys home from the bar with her, he responded that he'd have clean towels ready for us! Erik and Holly were great hosts, offering laundry and breakfast that we refused. The two felt like they should pay some of the hospitality they had received on a motorcycle trip forward and we were the lucky beneficiaries. Their company was enjoyable, but we were exhausted from our longest day yet and had to go to bed. We didn't quite make it to Davenport, but we're in great shape for a 25 mile rest day tomorrow before crossing the Mississippi!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGUZkX0sH1GUnQTFOaqWR9DLNiZ6Rzb0qfu-MKrH9n5z2ooi02C-jMhaSIVKpaKddecn2_ZE3L2GkNgvZ4BvKVYG7OJszT7ruc2A89Y2oa8HV2qrpshY3a3dJ7nHE_fU7rXfQgZMgoJXVF/s1600-h/img_0456.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGUZkX0sH1GUnQTFOaqWR9DLNiZ6Rzb0qfu-MKrH9n5z2ooi02C-jMhaSIVKpaKddecn2_ZE3L2GkNgvZ4BvKVYG7OJszT7ruc2A89Y2oa8HV2qrpshY3a3dJ7nHE_fU7rXfQgZMgoJXVF/s320/img_0456.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236699684636258002" border="0" /></a><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">11:36:10<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">164.7<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">2110<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">14.1<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">35.7<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-46945256559011353592008-07-11T03:00:00.004+08:002008-08-21T03:45:23.165+08:00"Dude I HAVE to stop and scratch my feet!" - Day 18<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsG-XAS9LwvW6rPQHVNKGNG8h5WrbJlAlhQ_Mcrdkwg2ZAs9U13nosWwIm2NKJfvBLZ9-TeHCoQwMFCe8wrwoNmK6vzI5mtbwXaPie_bQORS9-J0KYln7-zUL7M8cdE1v3hkZSJsKIMCsC/s1600-h/Screenshot-Manning,+IA+to+Clark+St+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsG-XAS9LwvW6rPQHVNKGNG8h5WrbJlAlhQ_Mcrdkwg2ZAs9U13nosWwIm2NKJfvBLZ9-TeHCoQwMFCe8wrwoNmK6vzI5mtbwXaPie_bQORS9-J0KYln7-zUL7M8cdE1v3hkZSJsKIMCsC/s400/Screenshot-Manning,+IA+to+Clark+St+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236679492935630626" border="0" /></a>As we rolled out of our tent this morning, we were surrounded by a thick fog. We didn't think much of it and went on making our instant oatmeal breakfast. However, as we began to take the tent down, it began to downpour. We hurriedly unpacked our rain gear and finished taking down the tent in the heavy rain. We decided to go ahead and ride in the rain, even though we've lost 3 of our 4 taillights and the one that remains only works intermittently. The rain eased up after a few minutes and it was dry enough to remove our rain gear within an hour.<br /><br />Riding in the rain gave us a nice change of scenery and was also a little bit cooler. However, my feet got soaked and after an hour or so were getting uncomfortable. I tried to dry them by taking my socks off and pedaling with my feet on top of my shoes but the itching just got worse. Eventually, it was too uncomfortable to bear and I demanded that we stop so I could scratch.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-1esqy_82r9f9RgLCsBrYpP4JssRSUDTqwIErZgKeTVWDA_17iIsW-5bkP6ZG5GiVrqCddCy2TGsHxflYxD3RfXmqMIyXPh1CNvJkJAhywcentMq-kAjlSvYrWQK_D30a2sg7XPcl5rV/s1600-h/img_0449.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-1esqy_82r9f9RgLCsBrYpP4JssRSUDTqwIErZgKeTVWDA_17iIsW-5bkP6ZG5GiVrqCddCy2TGsHxflYxD3RfXmqMIyXPh1CNvJkJAhywcentMq-kAjlSvYrWQK_D30a2sg7XPcl5rV/s320/img_0449.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236678497062631122" border="0" /></a>At the gas station, we were once again asked if we were training for <a href="http://ragbrai.org">RAGBRAI</a>, and were told all about how much fun the bike across Iowa is. We had actually originally thought that we might be able to join it for a day, but it is later in the year than our trip allowed. It certainly sounds more enjoyable to only ride 60 miles a day, with refreshments and activities the whole way. So we vowed that we would return to Iowa in the future and partake in the traveling festival.<br /><br />We eventually picked up the trail that was recommended to us in between Bagley and Jamaica. Railroad trails are awesome because the railroad takes direct and flat routes. The Subway in Panora treated us well and we cruised the remaining 40 miles to my college roommate, Ken's, house in Des Moines. We were required to buy day use permits on the trail for $2, which we thought was strange.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQeu_lec2V7vuw1TcNGEVQKeV8D90toN-9D17Oe1cEf_PRM1ST9hbMijAuGo5gILEV12zyn9NUsBIoLQJzg5QTFgeFTtdiD3eWbKlaOd85eXi1l-rT6ly-OUh0JP-1OlfDsm9VA2xkmgdX/s1600-h/img_0451.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQeu_lec2V7vuw1TcNGEVQKeV8D90toN-9D17Oe1cEf_PRM1ST9hbMijAuGo5gILEV12zyn9NUsBIoLQJzg5QTFgeFTtdiD3eWbKlaOd85eXi1l-rT6ly-OUh0JP-1OlfDsm9VA2xkmgdX/s320/img_0451.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236678509012528818" border="0" /></a>Ken's family welcomed us with showers, laundry, two delicious meals and some fun stories about Ken as a youngster. We've got a big day tomorrow for the push to Davenport, 180 miles in one day hopefully!<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">6:06:51<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">85.5<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">1945<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">13.9<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">29.2<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-16988777925453541022008-07-10T02:24:00.006+08:002008-08-21T03:00:25.846+08:00"I live in a beach house with 5 girls, you can always stay with us!" - Day 17<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNzq6x_8f9C7p_2tTtVi71-L5dPJwESVwF0gWR4TNPcTPdOFr3O-8qFEL1IwM6ShSj0qh2MXC6fCoZONTG3KlyjPCdrYIadWBwiYON8EvpuX-HWxbfiTkUz5E_8yQgAKHZZNw1HBI5fJdY/s1600-h/Untitled.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNzq6x_8f9C7p_2tTtVi71-L5dPJwESVwF0gWR4TNPcTPdOFr3O-8qFEL1IwM6ShSj0qh2MXC6fCoZONTG3KlyjPCdrYIadWBwiYON8EvpuX-HWxbfiTkUz5E_8yQgAKHZZNw1HBI5fJdY/s400/Untitled.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236669048946390290" border="0" /></a>Got up this morning at 6, broke camp and were on the road by 7:30. The rolling hills of Iowa were tough, and the roads were bumpy, had no shoulder and decent semi traffic. Combine that with the smell of the pig farms and it made for a taxing day.<br /><br />Our modus operandi has been to go into convenience stores and choose food that offers the highest calorie content per dollar. This means eating a lot of donuts, trail mix, pastries and other scurmptious foodstuffs. This morning, we discovered granola bars for $0.25 that offered 210 calories. That's 840 calories for a dollar. Admittedly our boiled potatoes at the beginning of the trip were better, but these granola bars are sure tasty!<br /><br />In between Remsen and Correctionville, we saw a lady running with a dog on the hill in front of us. As we passed, she shouted "he's not mine!" and continued on her way. Wanting for company, and not having seen a dog in a while, I encouraged our furry black friend to join us. The dog proceeded to chase us for the next mile and a half, gaining steadily on us on the up hills and losing ground on the down hills. Eventually he broke off when he found some construction workers on the side of the road.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqA5FlnaIGouEuomXZ9dA1PlE5NCD8Mlwg3HNNszZ3K3qmkF-nO1CBhFdSoAlFPYx8lgI36v3Fd55hr50N75f73gqTIKrfCmi-F-HlAjcCn9bQFCtfiJy9SHb2BKz9Wc1eyno1NpC0oZYL/s1600-h/img_0443+%28Modified%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqA5FlnaIGouEuomXZ9dA1PlE5NCD8Mlwg3HNNszZ3K3qmkF-nO1CBhFdSoAlFPYx8lgI36v3Fd55hr50N75f73gqTIKrfCmi-F-HlAjcCn9bQFCtfiJy9SHb2BKz9Wc1eyno1NpC0oZYL/s320/img_0443+%28Modified%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236670811113704546" border="0" /></a>We stopped for lunch in Schleswig, where we were also able to use the internet at the public library to check the weather. We could see storms brewing to the southwest and watched on the radar as they passed over Denison. By the time we got underway again, the storm was well clear of our zigzagging path towards Des Moines. The greasy hamburgers from Cheeta's didn't treat us well though, so we slowed it down in the afternoon.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7-SwwOkgfWMAlrzvt32Xpp_42cS2I4VRtgWoRxP7VPUf_H3U_k85U-IfFF6pqGdWef0HB-K9J2GMxfDUB9hzuSGIvqOVjcNRrj4Tw-IBnNQd_y4_25U_Cn6Wqg7Ai6i3aT7BvZ4lM6zs/s1600-h/img_0444.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7-SwwOkgfWMAlrzvt32Xpp_42cS2I4VRtgWoRxP7VPUf_H3U_k85U-IfFF6pqGdWef0HB-K9J2GMxfDUB9hzuSGIvqOVjcNRrj4Tw-IBnNQd_y4_25U_Cn6Wqg7Ai6i3aT7BvZ4lM6zs/s320/img_0444.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236670813191132178" border="0" /></a>My hungry caterpillar mode struck again in Manning, where we stopped at a grocery store and I once again indulged myself with two peaches and a plum in the parking lot. There, we started talking to Mary and Zack, who gave us directions on where to camp and a Rails to Trails route to Des Moines. Eventually, they invited us over to their house for hamburgers!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVTLqTGF3hG-d5EJJnGNY0WqEkWCKzLB78XWiGN1O_TrA6KIpyDJosPQxKOPwNbSlnuVL9gloKp5Ys3OuDMutCx1wZVGhqtGvBTY5zqq97jp3nxIu8Rid9kzLPNRJ-2TWVaqSLxHGAEEga/s1600-h/img_0445.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVTLqTGF3hG-d5EJJnGNY0WqEkWCKzLB78XWiGN1O_TrA6KIpyDJosPQxKOPwNbSlnuVL9gloKp5Ys3OuDMutCx1wZVGhqtGvBTY5zqq97jp3nxIu8Rid9kzLPNRJ-2TWVaqSLxHGAEEga/s320/img_0445.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236670823252812466" border="0" /></a>Once we got indoors, they realized that in order to survive dinner, they'd probably have to offer us showers too. After a delightful dinner with them and Zack's friend, Pat, we took siezed the opportunity of internet access and cell phone chargers to lay out our plan for the end of the trip. Travis' friend in New York wasn't working out, so I contacted my friend, Jocelyn. She was excited to hear about our trip and when I hinted that we were looking for a place to stay, she replied with the wonderful text: I live in a beach house with 5 girls, you can always stay with us!" Needless to say, we changed our destination from New York City to the beach house in Stamford, Connecticut.<br /><br />Pat escorted us in his truck to the local campground where the mosquitoes weren't bad at all. We've got two days of housing to look forward to in Des Moines and Davenport and after looking at the map today, think we'll have about 10 days left after Davenport.<br /><br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">8:58:52<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">117.0<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">1859<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">12.9<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">37.0</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><img src="file:///tmp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /><img src="file:///tmp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" />Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-42060980989729927282008-07-09T12:16:00.002+08:002008-09-24T09:10:48.947+08:00"Food tastes so much better when you've been riding a bike for the past 16 days!" - Day 16<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0_Ti6wDXgdvkcpV1Ay_dQhNIScAYoRX0nv55_JV0iZpTId5cc_D89QPWxiM1S5BYsai1k32_mqFbGTpQpsOwwNGiq1oLwar_Uvek4NliOGiiJ5OpwI2yXSrtTLzTkKHP2JTH_Sis6069/s1600-h/Screenshot.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0_Ti6wDXgdvkcpV1Ay_dQhNIScAYoRX0nv55_JV0iZpTId5cc_D89QPWxiM1S5BYsai1k32_mqFbGTpQpsOwwNGiq1oLwar_Uvek4NliOGiiJ5OpwI2yXSrtTLzTkKHP2JTH_Sis6069/s400/Screenshot.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233111223048156786" border="0" /></a>Day 16. Wow. Woke up around 7:30, got breakfast at a convenience store, and set off for Sioux Falls. Winds were out of the north, which wasn't optimal but was better than a headwind. My glove tan is getting pretty good, and we're running low on sunscreen so I went without it today.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7ICY9V7VtvDnjan5uecy09TC6stncWEkNIwKAnbZg4ql0pPUtKfyUhH0Y9SwnJIQqsjG6SCQXtybyfB2YvVE9C-sOMMPKJFkCkihKJkm4ACmVRZAH2GqANGD7d4vz97r_tbUhpxMoUJQ/s1600-h/img_0432.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7ICY9V7VtvDnjan5uecy09TC6stncWEkNIwKAnbZg4ql0pPUtKfyUhH0Y9SwnJIQqsjG6SCQXtybyfB2YvVE9C-sOMMPKJFkCkihKJkm4ACmVRZAH2GqANGD7d4vz97r_tbUhpxMoUJQ/s320/img_0432.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233117298736925986" border="0" /></a>The patched tube that Travis patched bit the dust just outside of Sioux Falls and after fixing it the liner had gotten cockeyed. So I got the pleasure of using our cheap, yet seemingly reliable, Walmart hand pump to inflate the tire to 100 psi twice.<br /><br />Dad left at the first exit in town for the bus station while we continued to Two Wheeler Deeler, an owner of which we met in Spearfish. Interstate 90 had taken us nearly half way across the country, but it was not with any great sadness that we left it for I-29. We were given a warm welcome by with a flat tire for Travis no less than a mile south of I-90. Armed with the tubes from yesterday, we made it to Subway before splitting up with Travis going to the bike shop and me heading to the grocery store. I downed two peaches and a plum before joining Travis at the bike shop. My rear wheel had gotten pretty messed up by the double flat yesterday, but Travis was able to true it in no time.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCq2SOXpSfSw8tj-6luMai5LrHmffhMiofRotJx9VOlgr_qqjIM1kwCTJodCuSH3G8yDyo9iMRJeYZdlFDvQu2i7GkyqxOovmEWAHhjFKBF0na9N6hiWM9ZBf0wuAthPzYeNymLZbkr1p/s1600-h/img_0437.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCq2SOXpSfSw8tj-6luMai5LrHmffhMiofRotJx9VOlgr_qqjIM1kwCTJodCuSH3G8yDyo9iMRJeYZdlFDvQu2i7GkyqxOovmEWAHhjFKBF0na9N6hiWM9ZBf0wuAthPzYeNymLZbkr1p/s320/img_0437.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233117311342345282" border="0" /></a>We initially planned to head south on I-29, but it was uncomfortably crowded and so we began picking our way southeast towards Des Moines on the back roads. We aren't entirely sure how far the whole ride will be, but it we're guessing about 3,300 miles. Hence, I finally got the opportunity to belt Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer: "Whooa, we're half way there! Whooa, livin' on a prayer!" A bit later, we crossed into Iowa by Akron and after looking at the map, set a goal of Le Mars, 21 miles away.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HAbVLmTrCGZ1hiFFtHWJu0BZk3Fdc9vkyeLbei7_1GlynKpPVkb7KPJ50xdecXHBZ7r05Qoz-He2WOTHuCaZflx48yvAoPZ2pn2-TiOv9e-PE2RhmUvsNSO8tVY6vn73_yZQsJv_K29N/s1600-h/img_0439.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HAbVLmTrCGZ1hiFFtHWJu0BZk3Fdc9vkyeLbei7_1GlynKpPVkb7KPJ50xdecXHBZ7r05Qoz-He2WOTHuCaZflx48yvAoPZ2pn2-TiOv9e-PE2RhmUvsNSO8tVY6vn73_yZQsJv_K29N/s320/img_0439.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233117306379869314" border="0" /></a>In Le Mars we got delicious cheese balls at Bob's Inn before heading to a local little league game. We caught two innings of that before heading to the bar to look for a place to sleep. The locals recommended the city park, so that's where we are. Hopefully it's free!<br /><br />Tomorrow we're going to try to reach Templeton, well over halfway to Des Moines. Spirits are still high, even though the back roads are hilly, they are much more peaceful and enjoyable.<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">8:42:36<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">129.7<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">1742<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">14.8<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">30.9<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-58486348111030995232008-07-08T07:19:00.002+08:002008-08-11T12:15:41.803+08:00"You guys are threading the needle." - Day 15<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIthQzzNKaoXuTMftX0wvJokToE8vHxu-kIHCBKTSPkq4V_hGAjV13RNLKmFIUGqD8wbydvr56_j8-KKX0mWPgIjPlHOPPbn-XbBE-HOTA8N3dZw-_VmYG5M9l2D-LvDtjAZRR-i7e_vdb/s1600-h/Screenshot-Kadoka,+S+Dakota+to+Salem,+S+Dakota+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIthQzzNKaoXuTMftX0wvJokToE8vHxu-kIHCBKTSPkq4V_hGAjV13RNLKmFIUGqD8wbydvr56_j8-KKX0mWPgIjPlHOPPbn-XbBE-HOTA8N3dZw-_VmYG5M9l2D-LvDtjAZRR-i7e_vdb/s400/Screenshot-Kadoka,+S+Dakota+to+Salem,+S+Dakota+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233033673244380114" border="0" /></a>Travis was so exhausted from yesterday that he passed out on the couch and slept most of the night on the couch but made it to the bed by around 5 am. We didn't wake up until 8, leaving an hour for us to get "continental breakfast" which consisted of bread, butter, peanut butter, jelly, cinnamon rolls, and no more than 2 tiny cups of orange juice. Still, it was good.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRXDWie-30lEkOTIXup8phKLtT_ATB1SKK1xpvXMWNgo19D3Ji6vKp0JiPa_mg44VmxE_hu6SrbUJ5D9nq_IlIzmIAalHCjBNhHvkMzR-zKG2YZZao47JjY8dUmniY9nwAE4Yd8PrJ6Wq/s1600-h/img_0427.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRXDWie-30lEkOTIXup8phKLtT_ATB1SKK1xpvXMWNgo19D3Ji6vKp0JiPa_mg44VmxE_hu6SrbUJ5D9nq_IlIzmIAalHCjBNhHvkMzR-zKG2YZZao47JjY8dUmniY9nwAE4Yd8PrJ6Wq/s320/img_0427.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233102140192443826" border="0" /></a>We set out on a frontage road because I-90 was under construction and made great time on account of the huge tailwinds and flat terrain. I didn't eat for the first two hours and was hence famished when we stopped to refill water 40 miles in. I bought a box of donuts (1,500 calories) and trail mix (1,170 calories). Both were finished before 4 pm.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhr-1vwg849H1lnRmAzcNsla2OUXEArYOyf3ielkQoMmJ9FWco1hO4saYjzojYMsMovqVbjPAbdB_2nWxkDT2rWKju5Mny8sU7b34sCR7cp_3pHMq84u3hxQJhdWO5hkXfaDd1iGdRa7Qc/s1600-h/img_0429.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhr-1vwg849H1lnRmAzcNsla2OUXEArYOyf3ielkQoMmJ9FWco1hO4saYjzojYMsMovqVbjPAbdB_2nWxkDT2rWKju5Mny8sU7b34sCR7cp_3pHMq84u3hxQJhdWO5hkXfaDd1iGdRa7Qc/s320/img_0429.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233102157534359602" border="0" /></a>Travis and my dad crossing the Missouri River<br /><div style="text-align: left;">We continued towards Mitchell with Travis flatting once. Later I got both of my tires on one pothole which left us wanting for one tube. I had to use a stick-on patch which lasted 15 minutes before flatting a mile from the first exit for Mitchell. Dad went ahead to get tubes and a glue-based patch kit, while I fixed it again. We made it into the city on my freshly repatched tube, got some Subway, and decided to push 30 miles on to Salem.<br /></div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg7TJOF0pHEYgNOlqujuxPje6H1Qum9c3QMvJaiyr1GgD_J71qo9m43rilbVkJo3AoNxPAVRfxhRiZAZpzf9zrUmTKqFmr0mvMIfibjm_ycg0mySuIBCuitIpElyWpCQLgyLRDs6t-xPcS/s1600-h/img_0428.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg7TJOF0pHEYgNOlqujuxPje6H1Qum9c3QMvJaiyr1GgD_J71qo9m43rilbVkJo3AoNxPAVRfxhRiZAZpzf9zrUmTKqFmr0mvMIfibjm_ycg0mySuIBCuitIpElyWpCQLgyLRDs6t-xPcS/s320/img_0428.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233102143898335426" border="0" /></a>We were making great time and still had four hours before the sun would go down. I led for the final 10 miles into Salem, really pushing hard to repay Travis for setting such a grueling pace yesterday. Our average was probably about 22 mph for the final 5 miles in. Dad got a motel, we showered for the second day in a row, got burgers and beer and then prepared to hit the sack.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBo_g9XNunyxUTslorjiGfnrijTDGlwctcFvBl5OHvyqyAcpsHcsvMyRU1MRTf7q3G09HWBiFS5K4-DIxqDIerATx2hX1Nc1GTqX_A1sB1fP_mqU9_xG67rGN8loHXdAnwdEUnp7zJPcaB/s1600-h/img_0430.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBo_g9XNunyxUTslorjiGfnrijTDGlwctcFvBl5OHvyqyAcpsHcsvMyRU1MRTf7q3G09HWBiFS5K4-DIxqDIerATx2hX1Nc1GTqX_A1sB1fP_mqU9_xG67rGN8loHXdAnwdEUnp7zJPcaB/s320/img_0430.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233102160218177042" border="0" /></a>Looking at the weather in the motel, it was a wonder that we haven't been rained on while riding yet. My dad had been watching the weather from home as I updated him on our position and he said that we've been threading the needle in terms of avoiding the storms. Hopefully it keeps up!<br /><br />We've done 402.7 miles in the past three days, so we're up to where we wanted to be at 100 miles/day. We're going to try to get to Des Moines early on Thursday, push really hard the 170+ miles to Davenport on Friday, and then take Saturday off. Zoom zoom.<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">7:18:06<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">133.9<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">1613<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">18.3<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">33.4<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-61691306142669218312008-07-07T06:12:00.003+08:002008-08-21T03:59:58.516+08:00"5 racist hags, 4 Buzz's girls..." - Day 14<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPuD1U0PXlKmnQh52W_0PV8VACSHmFxTIbU6HFdkVO7KaBOXRWSXHUNXywkzb0ave_AT_EUM-u_q3QhJ_a8tHo0jtnvN17prbcPGHy1HlPYl564jQarrgirT-JF6dji30ULZ0oqWymSbLu/s1600-h/Screenshot-Wall,+S+Dakota+to+Kennebec,+S+Dakota+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPuD1U0PXlKmnQh52W_0PV8VACSHmFxTIbU6HFdkVO7KaBOXRWSXHUNXywkzb0ave_AT_EUM-u_q3QhJ_a8tHo0jtnvN17prbcPGHy1HlPYl564jQarrgirT-JF6dji30ULZ0oqWymSbLu/s400/Screenshot-Wall,+S+Dakota+to+Kennebec,+S+Dakota+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233016617735951154" border="0" /></a>Travis didn't bring a sleeping bag, so he has been using the rain fly for our tent as a sleeping bag. As a result, I woke up in the middle of the night to rain hitting my face. So Travis had to forgo his blanket as we quick like bunnies threw the rain fly over the tent. It rained pretty hard for a while, but I still slept well.<br /><br />In the morning, we bid farewell to Luke and Jason, only to run into them again at the gas station where we refilled our water. We set off down I-90 at breakneck speed, taking Luke and Jason's suggestion that we try drafting off of each other. Our average was running about 18 mph on a slight downhill with a slight tailwind. We were taking one mile pulls but I was tiring and thus Travis started taking 2 for my 1. We made the 41 miles to Kadoka in less than 2.5 hours, but got waylaid there because the bathrooms were out of order.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKYMrBh5Ji4eMpu9FjMYMddVG5RasTJ2WMjZXI94sZPxUUjOD97oOt6zH14wGOht7wAdncs-XohKZqFqDLHk27ajTbUcQotklfhH8uQZULFKrfN6KqE7uwU1fAyeIj-VxIKdWcHdkPlh0/s1600-h/img_0425.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQKYMrBh5Ji4eMpu9FjMYMddVG5RasTJ2WMjZXI94sZPxUUjOD97oOt6zH14wGOht7wAdncs-XohKZqFqDLHk27ajTbUcQotklfhH8uQZULFKrfN6KqE7uwU1fAyeIj-VxIKdWcHdkPlh0/s320/img_0425.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233016185765414434" border="0" /></a>After half an hour or so in Kadoka, Luke and Jason pulled in. We coerced them into riding with us, thinking that it would be great to draft behind such sizable men. They agreed and so we set off with a four person train to Murdo. Travis ended up pulling the four of us across South Dakota at a pace that left Jason and me wondering what we'd gotten ourselves into. It as all I could do to keep up on the downhill and I was exhausted by the time we pulled into Murdo for a late lunch.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIYfT-Dpw8K9mfwpu0oK5lNfZ4n5bsczLGxl64u8R-igpqgg6u8gW8BSNB4u1vqWIcFCHzd3zhe__RoUM3Pw-tbd-PP3nX9GYLnkKalOCVK4uEvrYU42s7-kILDaogVNpPOjh_FdL_2yxN/s1600-h/img_0424.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIYfT-Dpw8K9mfwpu0oK5lNfZ4n5bsczLGxl64u8R-igpqgg6u8gW8BSNB4u1vqWIcFCHzd3zhe__RoUM3Pw-tbd-PP3nX9GYLnkKalOCVK4uEvrYU42s7-kILDaogVNpPOjh_FdL_2yxN/s320/img_0424.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233016171967849602" border="0" /></a>Entering Central Time with Luke and Jason<br /><br /></div>There, we bid Luke and Jason a final (maybe?) farewell and continued east. The whole day I was trying to coordinate with my dad when and where we were going to meet him, as he is flying up to ride with us for a day or two. He ended up flying to Chamberlain, which would've made for a 160 mile day for us. However, we were too tired to make it and settled to meet in the middle in Kennebec, another 40 miles down I-90.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmynl1W0JK_Z6XWaZfzcLHkPnR-Lt_n1iami9YA2mTFCy4IretwpA9cGO4ahmUhOvyeveQFpDpC3AA6o3TFEdF_WrqqJjm4h833_F9ZZlyGinnvjQdVSdoWM2VJMKl_fd9bWL7Pv1RM1Sa/s1600-h/img_0426+%28Modified%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmynl1W0JK_Z6XWaZfzcLHkPnR-Lt_n1iami9YA2mTFCy4IretwpA9cGO4ahmUhOvyeveQFpDpC3AA6o3TFEdF_WrqqJjm4h833_F9ZZlyGinnvjQdVSdoWM2VJMKl_fd9bWL7Pv1RM1Sa/s320/img_0426+%28Modified%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233016185012189026" border="0" /></a>Naturally, the final 20 miles were done at an exceedingly slow pace, but we passed the time by coming up with our own lyrics to the 12 Days of Christmas song. So far we have:<br /><blockquote>On the 5th day of riding my country gave to me:<br />5 racist hags,<br />4 Buzz's girls,<br />3 free beers,<br />2 obliterated turtles,<br />and a pig roast in Arvada, Wyoming!</blockquote>We hope to have all 12 figured out so that we can sing it in the Atlantic.<br /><br />At any rate, we pulled into Kennebec around 9 pm where my dad already had a room at Gerry's Motel. We showered, which was great, and really surprising how dirty the water falling at our feet became. We were treated to dinner and then went to bed. It looks like we're going to make it past Sioux Falls in two days and be in Des Moines in 4. We're also very nearly halfway finished. Wow.<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">5:35:23<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">78.7<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">1101<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">14.0<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">?<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-55813507166206878022008-07-06T04:13:00.003+08:002008-08-11T12:14:20.420+08:00"It's kaputt!" - Day 13<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK2IB3mAXuOQf3_8zpFLQ7muiIcPc9Qu-GHfRMtGtCzzjG2AAXgLcJFZf4FSt89lZK6_BlfbeWo1QUcx0mjLsPiSk2HcaYUKPcmiSh6myg4L11sIgm4DV0mgJcLkUVD8OoBPd74ELmNbqW/s1600-h/Screenshot-Sundance,+WY+to+Wall,+S+Dakota+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK2IB3mAXuOQf3_8zpFLQ7muiIcPc9Qu-GHfRMtGtCzzjG2AAXgLcJFZf4FSt89lZK6_BlfbeWo1QUcx0mjLsPiSk2HcaYUKPcmiSh6myg4L11sIgm4DV0mgJcLkUVD8OoBPd74ELmNbqW/s400/Screenshot-Sundance,+WY+to+Wall,+S+Dakota+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232988490534744610" border="0" /></a>We woke up on time for once, made oatmeal and broke camp. As we were packing up the tent, a man approached us, introduced himself, and asked what we were doing sleeping in his parents' yard. We explained that Bo and Deano had given us permission, which satisfied him, as he is their business partner. We collected his name and address so that we could send the three business owners a postcard from New York City.<br /><br />We coasted down the hill from their place back into town where we refilled on water and set off towards Wasta, South Dakota. We had great tailwinds and a long downhill for the first 20 miles, during which we crossed the state line.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCRpNp0nM6LdnS3axIKGzO9yLq4zi6xg-FDSmQ9_4QyoAO3VjRSZra6g7uPFQd8MvjM2xy6Nvedi98oUCO9D6md_5T0gtUMgvuOA1pzhcOAyoWpscoFetF3ARsFKXlAD6kM2VgeNVF8ef/s1600-h/img_0421+%28Modified%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKCRpNp0nM6LdnS3axIKGzO9yLq4zi6xg-FDSmQ9_4QyoAO3VjRSZra6g7uPFQd8MvjM2xy6Nvedi98oUCO9D6md_5T0gtUMgvuOA1pzhcOAyoWpscoFetF3ARsFKXlAD6kM2VgeNVF8ef/s320/img_0421+%28Modified%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233010247664428146" border="0" /></a>We continued to get great tailwinds along our frontage road into Sundance, South Dakota. There we met one of the owners of the Two Wheeler Dealer, a bicycle shop chain in South Dakota. He was quite interested in our trip and let us know that we were finally out of the mountains. And there was much rejoicing.<br /><br />Along the way to Rapid City, there was a truck in the shoulder with a number of people standing around it. As I rode by I asked if they needed help, not thinking there was much two cyclists could offer. They shouted "It's kaputt!" and then made motions for a cell phone. I turned around to find four Italian tourists with limited English. Through their extremely broken English, Travis' French and my limited Spanish, we were able to ascertain that their car was broken and they needed a ride to the airport. We were able to call a taxi for them and went on our way. It was nice to be able to pay an infintismal part of the hospitality that we have received forward.<br /><br />Our good deed for the day done, we rolled into Rapid City around 1 o'clock. We found the Subway before being directed to a much needed laundromat, not having done laundry since day 3 with Kate. There we rocked out in our one pair of clean clothes and satisfied the craving we'd been having for chips and salsa.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgibJQSvyoWG-FHq6mByk_x5TRVPsHKLohX1ov-soyXI_rDXOexiUY7V9TNBJCLFzmIA78RQhlblgRyQlJ9tpcHuCEMhfzU2YX5Gm9dR7I6HCbCyNUTQqDzISy-zBNLxOgikskUsrcOyBLI/s1600-h/img_0422.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgibJQSvyoWG-FHq6mByk_x5TRVPsHKLohX1ov-soyXI_rDXOexiUY7V9TNBJCLFzmIA78RQhlblgRyQlJ9tpcHuCEMhfzU2YX5Gm9dR7I6HCbCyNUTQqDzISy-zBNLxOgikskUsrcOyBLI/s320/img_0422.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233007729551466658" border="0" /></a>Being so full from the chips left me feeling sluggish as we pulled out of Rapid City, causing Travis to run into my rear tire and fall. He complained of pain in his side but pushed through it. We were barely outside of Rapid City when Travis flatted. He is really getting close to my number of flats, so I need to step it up a little bit.<br /><br />Our northerly tailwind turned into a crosswind as we changed direction at Rapid City, but we were still able to push past Wasta to Wall, home of the ubiquitously billboarded Wall Drug. Having been there before I knew it wasn't worth the hype, but Travis had to see what the approximately 200 billboards we'd been seeing for the past 75 miles were all about.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_RolpTQKu6BOM8kZuN1ZYKzr_b511xGnVok4uDw36l2hN-_EFQNJJydSyHKWZKDL_L9U4-TPq0qu-MDX98YhqUaF7KSQKhzG96pZ85KgYRZ56cD_dq_jJe0zTOgfz92W1JvNe49ObLpxw/s1600-h/img_0423+%28Modified%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_RolpTQKu6BOM8kZuN1ZYKzr_b511xGnVok4uDw36l2hN-_EFQNJJydSyHKWZKDL_L9U4-TPq0qu-MDX98YhqUaF7KSQKhzG96pZ85KgYRZ56cD_dq_jJe0zTOgfz92W1JvNe49ObLpxw/s320/img_0423+%28Modified%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233014516249200530" border="0" /></a>Outside of Wall Drug, we met two other cyclists who were also on a cross-country journey. Jason and Luke were wrestlers at Cornell, before deciding to embark on their adventure. They started in Florence, Oregon and have been taking the back roads. We shared many stories and some beer at a bar across from Wall Drug before heading to the local airport to pitch a tent. Hopefully we'll have no problems from police or mosquitoes before morning! Also, I noticed my cycle computer acting up again in Spearfish, so I'm using Travis' data for today.<br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody></tbody></table><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">9:06:37<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">140.5<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">1360<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">15.4<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">39.4<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-51344172951599604562008-07-05T02:46:00.005+08:002008-08-11T04:13:11.827+08:00"It's just another place." - Day 12<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVYKEUs_HXwUwuHGpr4Unb6Qn2bvc7tNiPiO1ncVE3uTSrkMxMPlvDHahop28A_ug6mdeOLnaC_qn_FbO83lZ8f9OfcBDEjt20B-G7iRI4QC9vPeGBaqpt7GalpgXEzytYfZXbQD02w-Pz/s1600-h/Screenshot-Arvada,+WY+to+Sundance,+WY+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVYKEUs_HXwUwuHGpr4Unb6Qn2bvc7tNiPiO1ncVE3uTSrkMxMPlvDHahop28A_ug6mdeOLnaC_qn_FbO83lZ8f9OfcBDEjt20B-G7iRI4QC9vPeGBaqpt7GalpgXEzytYfZXbQD02w-Pz/s400/Screenshot-Arvada,+WY+to+Sundance,+WY+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231480555027858018" border="0" /></a>Happy 232nd birthday USA! We woke up without an alarm at 7, made breakfast and bid farewell to Buzz's girls. Before we left, I had the distinct pleasure checking off another bucket list item by using an actual outhouse.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcl3u8PvusiGlxMI97GMM63jcSu36I-m9SWMX3M0HB1ck5l08ezFnuc8DrdrucM8cRK3DVynZdl4UOlraA9oCaMJ5spoIu_lPXPrPt_RFWfj_pJuQbXZ121SkzWMKm0SDvtwO5SNc02RUf/s1600-h/img_0417.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcl3u8PvusiGlxMI97GMM63jcSu36I-m9SWMX3M0HB1ck5l08ezFnuc8DrdrucM8cRK3DVynZdl4UOlraA9oCaMJ5spoIu_lPXPrPt_RFWfj_pJuQbXZ121SkzWMKm0SDvtwO5SNc02RUf/s320/img_0417.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232979946927111250" border="0" /></a>We were on the road by 8:30 but it was hot and uphill to Gillette. We hardly saw another soul on the 55 miles of dry and desolate Wyoming. Seven miles outside of Gillette I flatted again, and again didn't check the bead before inflating. This time I decided to replace the whole tire, but went through another two CO2 cartridges in the process.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSm5KLmNmRgmUfYPjroxj2z75mjMwnK_Mon6_j1RVfeGqNjiCe8G-1f4NNmH5HNf1QJqpvRegIt9q2BU9v61EOrcYYbTDorIFC1bVJZ6EyOxz5kX51CcAcpushTewqcbjJv39Qag6eJ9jY/s1600-h/img_0418.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSm5KLmNmRgmUfYPjroxj2z75mjMwnK_Mon6_j1RVfeGqNjiCe8G-1f4NNmH5HNf1QJqpvRegIt9q2BU9v61EOrcYYbTDorIFC1bVJZ6EyOxz5kX51CcAcpushTewqcbjJv39Qag6eJ9jY/s320/img_0418.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232979959397288162" border="0" /></a>Given our CO2 situation, I opted to invest in another pump at Wal-Mart in Gillette. It came in handy just 7 miles later when I flatted. Front tire flats are scary. Not wanting me to get too far behind my respectable 10 flats so far, Travis flatted a few miles later, bringing his total to 6. We grabbed some groceries in Moorcroft just as the store was closing, before running into another long and slow uphill battle into Sundance.<br /><br />Once again, the end of the day was quite a struggle. It seems that the last 20 miles of the day take as long as all of the previous miles. We anxiously hope that around each curve and behind each hill lies our destination but more often are met with more hills. Today especially, the mile markers were taking particularly long in counting up, and our anxiety was exacerbated by the setting sun. However, we made it into town by 8:45 and per our usual routine stopped at the first bar we saw.<br /><br />At the bar we met Bo and Deano, pseudo-brothers who offered to let us pitch our tent at their place outside of town. Deano even stopped macking on a lady to pile the four of us into the front of his truck with bikes in the back. We apologized profusely for cockblocking him, but he said his parents had taught him to help people in need. Deano was an army ranger who said of his number of tours in Iraq "it's just another place." He was quite legitimate.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQUpaVV5CpaGJ8O6xoNqMqhOzQWAaYYVaTDD0RkPPa6BdcJ2RRaLHnlaHRwHSrKG-3VlBczLxoCmLTj3CpotuGX56VeMxn7EipW-_-D8YeXSAKmZU1_WxUtH8Wfg_7C65C9DkQ7AalI0fJ/s1600-h/img_0419.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQUpaVV5CpaGJ8O6xoNqMqhOzQWAaYYVaTDD0RkPPa6BdcJ2RRaLHnlaHRwHSrKG-3VlBczLxoCmLTj3CpotuGX56VeMxn7EipW-_-D8YeXSAKmZU1_WxUtH8Wfg_7C65C9DkQ7AalI0fJ/s320/img_0419.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232979955796474194" border="0" /></a>The trailer park residents were keen on shooting off fireworks late into the night, but we were to exhausted for it to be a nuisance. Tomorrow we've got an alarm set for 5:50 and then it'll be off to South Dakota!<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">9:05:56<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">119.3</td><td style="text-align: center;">1220<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">13.1</td><td style="text-align: center;">31.0<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-81937531145712601442008-07-04T05:52:00.001+08:002008-08-06T09:08:05.873+08:00"Do you want to sleep in the sheep wagon?" - Day 11<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_ekf8W-kqsPuHaSPR7uU1PWq7PruzUdJEd8HA7ybT-mJIcL0Jb3AbDqTZ3RpGpjS9gMtWui33sIHJPHyG6Olxc2rRUYDKaGY6BaVg8kv_BIwdqShiXiMmI9-Q0jADW129R_w2f1aFcY6/s1600-h/Screenshot-Ranchester,+WY+to+Arvada,+WY+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_ekf8W-kqsPuHaSPR7uU1PWq7PruzUdJEd8HA7ybT-mJIcL0Jb3AbDqTZ3RpGpjS9gMtWui33sIHJPHyG6Olxc2rRUYDKaGY6BaVg8kv_BIwdqShiXiMmI9-Q0jADW129R_w2f1aFcY6/s400/Screenshot-Ranchester,+WY+to+Arvada,+WY+-+Google+Maps+-+Mozilla+Firefox.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231156618071484722" border="0" /></a>We woke up this morning according to plan at 6 am. Travis made breakfast while I attempted to repair my rear flat tire. I succeeded in breaking the stem off of the first tube, and pinch flatted a second when I tried to insert it. This cost a few CO2 cartridges, which we were running low on. Travis was finally able to successfully patch it, but the delay meant we didn't leave Ranchester until 9:30.<br /><br />A local recommended taking the frontage road to Sheridan, where we restocked on energy bars and flat tire repairing materials. The pump that I bought at REI in Spokane mysteriously started leaking around the head. I bought a schrader valve adapter, hoping that I could use the other half of the head. I also left my Vaseline in Ranchester, and so picked up some Bag Balm to cut down on chafing. From Sheridan we took Helen's advice and headed east on Highway 14. It was a pleasantly flat highway with a smooth shoulder.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN-Z2hTb6k_7IaygjS7Zrz5MFeFUHnSN3aqzODzff7kUOTS2FwRpSSQwU0mvkHonBjS36hyphenhyphenrqBVJCORNsJEDub11L_OUwcGwcWJWO4nIo6J5WQIoqncylLp-rtn9TjJKjlkQmQDfp2UhJE/s1600-h/img_0360.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN-Z2hTb6k_7IaygjS7Zrz5MFeFUHnSN3aqzODzff7kUOTS2FwRpSSQwU0mvkHonBjS36hyphenhyphenrqBVJCORNsJEDub11L_OUwcGwcWJWO4nIo6J5WQIoqncylLp-rtn9TjJKjlkQmQDfp2UhJE/s320/img_0360.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231184576092718626" border="0" /></a>Helen had also recommended that we head to Leiter for some of the best food around. We were headed that way until we saw an ominous sign in Clearmont indicating that we may want to stop there for at least water.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuZYZc2mhIC79Iqryr1zB6IvM5Uod6IUsn8wrtXgyR8smUVOPRd96hKsS1bg2phqiK5m16z97Sy6FRXjYlwoDeOY-7pNm-hl2YUItulHE8gGPaFWZ3l6sFUxm7y-3ItJr2WzaHBWK6J8Mz/s1600-h/img_0362.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuZYZc2mhIC79Iqryr1zB6IvM5Uod6IUsn8wrtXgyR8smUVOPRd96hKsS1bg2phqiK5m16z97Sy6FRXjYlwoDeOY-7pNm-hl2YUItulHE8gGPaFWZ3l6sFUxm7y-3ItJr2WzaHBWK6J8Mz/s320/img_0362.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231186608157879682" border="0" /></a>When we stopped in Clearmont for water, we caught word that the restaurant in Leiter wasn't cooking anything because their air conditioning was broken and it was too hot to fire up the stove. So we had lunch and some ice cream there. It was also pretty hot to ride, and while lounging in the shade enjoying our cool water and ice cream, we were invited to go to Arvada to a pig roast. Initially we were reluctant because we had wanted to reach Gillette today, but after being invited by the clerk and another patron, we realized that occasions such as this wouldn't come around very often and it was worth postponing the 40 miles. Plus, we were only 23 miles away from Arvada and could take it easy in the afternoon heat.<br /><br />As we pulled into the restaurant in Leiter, I ran into some problems with my pedals again. This time my cleat had loosened so much that my shoe rotated around the cleat, making it impossible to unclip. So once again, I became a victim of the so called "clipless" pedals.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2RAvq6pBUnAhpJZzSoVnQbYvnHZqoqPz5jlMxRxmVYZex5oFNME3mnFFObb9W6IxUOOLDv4T1LcNAxJwUIQi6BEYqaVntMlylHN6a0XxmWxJ2r5TUimOjcU04khcB5MDE4dnisVZfg_-/s1600-h/img_0364.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2RAvq6pBUnAhpJZzSoVnQbYvnHZqoqPz5jlMxRxmVYZex5oFNME3mnFFObb9W6IxUOOLDv4T1LcNAxJwUIQi6BEYqaVntMlylHN6a0XxmWxJ2r5TUimOjcU04khcB5MDE4dnisVZfg_-/s320/img_0364.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231184575709889010" border="0" /></a>Our intention in stopping at the restaurant was to pick up some beer, because we figured that would add some value to the pig roast and we didn't want to have to mooch off of the kind people of Wyoming. We bought the beer and were offered ribs. This was an offer we couldn't refuse, so we wolfed down some of the best ribs we've ever had. The proprietor of the restaurant was an older lady named Martha. Her world paradigm was slightly different than Travis' and mine. When I told her I'd be spending the next year teaching English in China, she opined that if it were up to her then I'd be chained to the floor and she'd "let 'em rot." Hmmm.<br /><br />On our way out of the restaurant with the beer, four fine ladies in pink drove up in a minivan. They informed us that they were also on the way to the pig roast to serve as bartenders and that we were cheating by bringing our own beer. Oops. As they left the parking lot, however, they headed west. Laughing, we pointed them in the right direction and said we'd see them in a little bit.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj7-TQfvhc3HJeMhY4CPrMFB5_WW9sHx-vfOtHsYPlGxDMygfINWrxHMQ8IvHd_5C0K_jFCTvyZdvfbYjsnzwrAA6hToF1mM5cmkG7zL7p9diBMPw-60sz4W9g8-yE1-IBcxWDQmgGmLtx/s1600-h/img_0367.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj7-TQfvhc3HJeMhY4CPrMFB5_WW9sHx-vfOtHsYPlGxDMygfINWrxHMQ8IvHd_5C0K_jFCTvyZdvfbYjsnzwrAA6hToF1mM5cmkG7zL7p9diBMPw-60sz4W9g8-yE1-IBcxWDQmgGmLtx/s320/img_0367.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231184579513527954" border="0" /></a>We expected to arrive as the party got started but our slow day became even slower as my patched tube lost pressure. Travis, it would seem, was right about the patched tubes having their integrity compromised. And my plan to use the schrader side of the pump failed as it is leaking on that side too. Once I repaired the tire, the bead didn't set right and I had a lump as I rode. So I went through another CO2 cartridge fixing that. An hour after the party started, we finally rendevouzed with Buzz's girls, as they were called.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWjCQhXynfINi1s9PAEWQ0De768hxbcmCCTDRVJOnZo6QzAsVlVb9BoIyhSf0B6vVdEm1gMysIcUN5qceggWulS7giN_-DEImTg00CpheBJfh6s6IWVbc4_uomg2-yysMXUxTCjPXMfl8/s1600-h/img_0372.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWjCQhXynfINi1s9PAEWQ0De768hxbcmCCTDRVJOnZo6QzAsVlVb9BoIyhSf0B6vVdEm1gMysIcUN5qceggWulS7giN_-DEImTg00CpheBJfh6s6IWVbc4_uomg2-yysMXUxTCjPXMfl8/s320/img_0372.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231184577391904818" border="0" /></a>The ladies formed a bowling team that was sponsored by Buzz, who owned the bar. He throws the pig roast annually on the 3rd of July so as not to compete with the bigger towns on the 4th. It's basically a huge potluck with live band and a bunch of people getting drunk, dancing, shooting off fireworks, and generally having fun. We offered our Clif Bars as a contribution to the potluck, but Buzz's girls said we should just dig in. And so we did.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLLXknrjkHz6ieTXsEFfMpwNZpa5GiHr6NztZG42PswHmfauHV42RSyRRnh4q6xSk7lFO-XMzpx_PJH0syAmMDD2cu2EZuqXhW5udJejOWWuut2YaszyE6k9d3ps3lTWi2GIRoONpw6Hs/s1600-h/img_0413.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJLLXknrjkHz6ieTXsEFfMpwNZpa5GiHr6NztZG42PswHmfauHV42RSyRRnh4q6xSk7lFO-XMzpx_PJH0syAmMDD2cu2EZuqXhW5udJejOWWuut2YaszyE6k9d3ps3lTWi2GIRoONpw6Hs/s320/img_0413.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231196914284838418" border="0" /></a>Buzz doing what he does best<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">When asked where we planned to spend the night, we said we'd find a field nearby in which to pitch our tent. But our ever hospitable bartending friends offered us luxury instead, a 19th century sheep wagon complete with mattress and iron stove. We didn't dare turn down the opportunity to sleep in a sheep wagon in Arvada, Wyoming and promptly threw our stuff in before they could rescind the offer.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO2BeCpLZqKNa3fX8IjHF30uNpBvGNqA-cXYgQGL-aV2LGVDrcIi-o4CYEdrur1lByZth9sSpHPV_1IWKfGuKTR4_IhZjNPUAhfr1mriotDyLSQkov-CiBivcIq5m2W-Q8IU2WsWufmyue/s1600-h/img_0414.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO2BeCpLZqKNa3fX8IjHF30uNpBvGNqA-cXYgQGL-aV2LGVDrcIi-o4CYEdrur1lByZth9sSpHPV_1IWKfGuKTR4_IhZjNPUAhfr1mriotDyLSQkov-CiBivcIq5m2W-Q8IU2WsWufmyue/s320/img_0414.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231196914739097634" border="0" /></a>While a few people were shooting off fireworks of their own, everybody anxiously awaited the big show put on by Buzz himself. Now Travis and I didn't have high expectations for a fireworks display in this seemingly backwater community, but boy were we surprised. The show lasted at least an hour with enormously colorful displays. We later asked Buzz how he was able to afford the show. We were pleasantly surprised to find out that he saves all of the aluminum cans throughout the year from his bar and pays for the show with the proceeds from recycling them. That's right, a $910 fireworks show paid for by recycled aluminum.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-s9AdWK33VjZTVJwncdrQT1ToZ2dHyBnNjFKkZqcYxSaR5M7wofO8fGOaYfk4PIcKw5NkRqmCRQDY9yK5MlBskNaPXy9YUqL1b3I3KR8PkGclJdIwkdVgT9GjSn-MTFVuWUzSeZ6Y6Tm/s1600-h/img_0391.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-s9AdWK33VjZTVJwncdrQT1ToZ2dHyBnNjFKkZqcYxSaR5M7wofO8fGOaYfk4PIcKw5NkRqmCRQDY9yK5MlBskNaPXy9YUqL1b3I3KR8PkGclJdIwkdVgT9GjSn-MTFVuWUzSeZ6Y6Tm/s320/img_0391.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231184580256315522" border="0" /></a>Travis and I were very glad to have changed our destination to Arvada for the evening and express our gratitutde to the wonderful people of Arvada, Wyoming, especially to Buzz and his girls.<br /><br /><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">5:35:23<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">78.7<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">1101<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">14.0<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">?<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>*Today I caught the cycle computer reading 65 mph outside the store in Sheridan. I think it's something in the anti-theft devices that throws it off, so I got another day without an accurate maximum speed reading.<br /></div></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-53977978030565648452008-07-02T18:29:00.001+08:002008-07-25T19:55:38.906+08:00"Get that man a beer!" - Day 10<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI5SxDFsL7CvJmXIwpjTz5h1IFstcRzoczBxTwfIZriTj6FFHEpyyXV6xELMiIT0Jse847jTAD3CPWSOU2ShgKNTrmVr06DBXgOiqjqe-dEW5wnQv3qVvySSuuk46hPHfp1Ytkfs8Pfe_B/s1600-h/untitled.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI5SxDFsL7CvJmXIwpjTz5h1IFstcRzoczBxTwfIZriTj6FFHEpyyXV6xELMiIT0Jse847jTAD3CPWSOU2ShgKNTrmVr06DBXgOiqjqe-dEW5wnQv3qVvySSuuk46hPHfp1Ytkfs8Pfe_B/s320/untitled.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226898265514359762" border="0" /></a>We awoke this morning at 6:30 to the smell of hash browns, eggs and biscuits cooking. We shared a lovely breakfast with Dick and Susan before Travis went outside to try to figure out his cleat and pedal issues. I remained inside talking to Dick and Susan, sitting rather uncomfortably as a result of our night in Cardwell. Apparently when I sprayed the bug spray on myself, I forgot to get my rear end. So while I had a few mosquito bites on the rest of my body, my hindquarters were covered worse than chicken pox. Travis said he'd never seen anything like it. Don't forget to wear bug spray!<br /><br />After a half hour or so of troubleshooting his pedals, Travis threw in the towel and opted to buy new cleats. On the way back to the Spoke Shop, we went by Albertson's to pick up the beer we had promised to the bike techs. So Travis was riding down the streets of Billings at 9 am, full pannier packs and a case of Fat Tire.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh031YWU3abwxXxO_qfldmQ54vFDZahggS1e6H0IbhJrMhJc5y3BcWJhr_tdY1TFuXaEIVThEybFObsxQex0Kd6e_IKj-daykgMFKWqirLtZt__-xpTuXg3LdxBL5Xhb2mJhHSulf8kggKS/s1600-h/IMG_0350%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 244px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh031YWU3abwxXxO_qfldmQ54vFDZahggS1e6H0IbhJrMhJc5y3BcWJhr_tdY1TFuXaEIVThEybFObsxQex0Kd6e_IKj-daykgMFKWqirLtZt__-xpTuXg3LdxBL5Xhb2mJhHSulf8kggKS/s320/IMG_0350%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226899762901299314" border="0" /></a>The shop hooked us up with bagels and a sweet discount on the cleats before we hit the road 1.5 hours later than we had wanted to. We thought that it was 115 miles to Sheridan, WY but the first sign we saw 10 miles outside of town said 124. Crap. That meant we would need favorable winds since the route was hilly, as Susan had warned us. We were making slow progress to Hardin, and by the time we stopped for lunch it was clear we weren't going to make it to Sheridan. Once again we felt a few drops of rain, and even stopped to put on our rain garb, but the storm stayed ahead of us.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvdiNy2d4I2qJ_7e8dXCSiN0L5CAsuNx1ePwNuvr5XHpj9U_hWYiR3hMWNKRoGk2ryAGlOc4sYrH9fhz-PtqETQYep2kNpUCQevIKLvjx8DfOOJ-k0r9hTP0hR2nvLBGiCz2nDr7g_7wF6/s1600-h/IMG_0353%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvdiNy2d4I2qJ_7e8dXCSiN0L5CAsuNx1ePwNuvr5XHpj9U_hWYiR3hMWNKRoGk2ryAGlOc4sYrH9fhz-PtqETQYep2kNpUCQevIKLvjx8DfOOJ-k0r9hTP0hR2nvLBGiCz2nDr7g_7wF6/s320/IMG_0353%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226899768425441666" border="0" /></a>We slowly ground out the afternoon, with me getting two flats on a patched tube. Travis had warned me that patching tubes was unreliable, but I'd never had a problem with glue on patches before. So not wanting to spend $5 and waste a lot of rubber by buying a new tube for every flat, I decided to patch. The stick on patches that we brought turned out to be worthless and I made it less than 20 miles before the patched tube failed. We did, however, turn the odometer over to 1,000 miles, meaning that we're close to 1/3 of the way to the finish line!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMyYB3gSngSLHzGrDurUwaj1AnoM4-5ou035VkCXlV-z1pyL858wWhTX8irHda430EdTHfFr1Wf4-qMH74Hsbh-dxAaCzggBOTztgKkUADiyD9zH3f2Cwr99ELQH1Kf-_eWXy1LfZ2gh04/s1600-h/2008+is+great%21%21%21.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMyYB3gSngSLHzGrDurUwaj1AnoM4-5ou035VkCXlV-z1pyL858wWhTX8irHda430EdTHfFr1Wf4-qMH74Hsbh-dxAaCzggBOTztgKkUADiyD9zH3f2Cwr99ELQH1Kf-_eWXy1LfZ2gh04/s320/2008+is+great%21%21%21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226907156199261810" border="0" /></a>The Wyoming state line was our big goal, but a few miles before where we expected it, there was the dreaded "Chain-up area ahead" sign. Bad news: hills. We'd spent 6 days and 5 nights in Montana and were eager for the mental boost of making it across our 3rd state line. The sun's quickening fall from the sky made us even more desperate to make it to Wyoming, but behind every curve and hill lie more curves and hills with the signage telling us we'd finally cleared Montana nowhere to be seen.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfltql-9Wd-gVJlIc_uxxpdRoCdhd33oMPPwTwVHJ183l9C6mtDga0fJEGvEDoFcBbH7wWBxA9h6bcASypmlZFXTgN6n1uCUB98jBDSmrQhpYof4YzKtkiGMAEGHcwNvFDj1qyo4S3SeD/s1600-h/IMG_0356%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfltql-9Wd-gVJlIc_uxxpdRoCdhd33oMPPwTwVHJ183l9C6mtDga0fJEGvEDoFcBbH7wWBxA9h6bcASypmlZFXTgN6n1uCUB98jBDSmrQhpYof4YzKtkiGMAEGHcwNvFDj1qyo4S3SeD/s320/IMG_0356%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226912780049234082" border="0" /></a>Then finally, just as the sun set, I spotted something glorious around the bend. There was a cluster of signs and a change in the pavement color, that could possibly be the state line. We livened up our pace anxiously hoping that we'd made it. And we had. Hasta la vista Montana!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLgexlQETJkc2vaBSXMJJsdR9gXDF8tA2JMfZ_TYvEU9ZoXaIR52EXv8-miBYCdLNr60yNhWoIJANDDDyxPeB69B4EayfMIp5P5afSimSH8c8WyaElXX7DwxnTJESBoThtWkTiKVVQHAV/s1600-h/IMG_0358%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLgexlQETJkc2vaBSXMJJsdR9gXDF8tA2JMfZ_TYvEU9ZoXaIR52EXv8-miBYCdLNr60yNhWoIJANDDDyxPeB69B4EayfMIp5P5afSimSH8c8WyaElXX7DwxnTJESBoThtWkTiKVVQHAV/s320/IMG_0358%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226903729910939410" border="0" /></a>Crossing the border gave us energy, but it was still 9 miles to the nearest town of Ranchester, and by now it was pretty dark. We hurriedly dug out our lights and rode our fastest miles of the day the remaining miles into Ranchester. My headlight is more of a "be seen" than "see" feature, so I had to stick close behind Travis to have a chance to spot potholes. As we trudged through the darkness we were looking forward to pulling into the first bar we saw and enjoying a much needed beer. Then disaster struck. I flatted for the third time today on the outskirts of town. I had half a mind to just ride the flat into town, but wisely opted to walk the rest of the way, laughing the whole time with Travis about my misfortune.<br /><br />As promised, we parked our bikes at the first bar we saw. I walked in the door with a look of exasperation from the 10.5 hour day with three flats, the final hour of which was in the dark. I hadn't even had time to take off my helmet before a man at the pool table called out "get that man a beer!" The bartender, Helen, then asked if I had a tent and before I could think about asking her where we could pitch it, she was showing me to the yard around the side of the bar. She cooked Travis and me two delicious pizzas, refilled our water bottles without being asked, gave us free granola bars and fruit snacks for the road that she claimed to not want, and offered to let us crawl into her car if it started to rain during the night. To top it all off, when we got our checks, there was no place to add the tip. We tried in vain to persuade her to let us tip her, but she flat out refused. What a delightful end to our hardest day of the trip. If you're ever near Ranchester, WY, definitely stop by the Silver Spur Bar there and say hi to Helen. If you don't have time to stop, you can even grab a six-pack from the drive-thru!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNApP92uP8bXg28Sx0AopoXPM3rOaPnfZqOFw8dMar4wf9lXqXLe2Rr6xuEZ8vaK336ESdSm0JuJQ3gqOOu_LuxHAkKE0qVsiR6r6gD9ehFe4UgCePBJNiRldkQes107BdjJvAsBTdLE7/s1600-h/IMG_0359%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTNApP92uP8bXg28Sx0AopoXPM3rOaPnfZqOFw8dMar4wf9lXqXLe2Rr6xuEZ8vaK336ESdSm0JuJQ3gqOOu_LuxHAkKE0qVsiR6r6gD9ehFe4UgCePBJNiRldkQes107BdjJvAsBTdLE7/s320/IMG_0359%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226903733567782546" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">10:22:58</td><td style="text-align: center;">123.3</td><td style="text-align: center;">1022<br /></td><td style="text-align: center;">11.8</td><td style="text-align: center;">28.9<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/kbink/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" />Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-13691266220370411792008-07-02T05:43:00.010+08:002008-07-25T11:28:59.717+08:00"You should take the trip of a lifetime, at least every couple of years." - Day 9<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04VOMc2OvAbAAlTZuqlETiPBSoY2ngrmaJJnWfdvgRabhu8UO6Jt3m5ACD18-QgoZTSBZJ6p8d-aGDnd0F4PdmEZGWpBVSu5AvgNgO481UjTX5EzK4Vl4T08U_SsZeZ8eJuCTixOoSJ3N/s1600-h/Picture+8.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04VOMc2OvAbAAlTZuqlETiPBSoY2ngrmaJJnWfdvgRabhu8UO6Jt3m5ACD18-QgoZTSBZJ6p8d-aGDnd0F4PdmEZGWpBVSu5AvgNgO481UjTX5EzK4Vl4T08U_SsZeZ8eJuCTixOoSJ3N/s400/Picture+8.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226329339838074578" border="0" /></a>We woke up late this morning at around 7:30, made breakfast and headed to the convenience store to refill on water. There we called Dick and Susan, the couple we met yesterday, and informed them that our plans had changed and we would in fact be in Billings tonight. They said they would be overjoyed to host us in Billings tonight. And there was much rejoicing.<div><br /><div> </div><div>Our first 25 miles outside of Big Timber was slightly downhill with a tailwind, so we were averaging 17 mph! About 15 miles outside of Big Timber, Travis got a phone call from a friend who is moving across the country. It turns out she had just driven past us. She and her friend turned around and we chatted on the I-90 shoulder before making plans to meet in Columbus for lunch at what has become the staple of our trip, Subway.</div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHb991fhFY8cj_vjjL8_BbT-6d0pPG14zSJI1eEBv4ZcJiVvOMvXGCmTLUZSSwZG8wzJQpjk94Fr95V9Q6waP6SHqwN2neH2-BNtqRnDLjpTL8hp3qY7-n5gNMRnaUa7L6O4Vb6aCoO6nD/s320/IMG_0347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226334220392709554" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" border="0" /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">We made good time to Columbus but after lunch slowed down because we told Dick and Susan that we'd be there between 5 and 6 and we only had 40 miles to go. About 15 miles in, we noticed a storm building behind us. Without saying a word to each other, we both poured on the steam for the next hour and a half. The storm was of course drawing all of the air into it, so we were facing a brutal headwind and only averaging 14 mph or so. Those were the most grueling miles of the trip so far.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd6EHc5iOehKpIoxtNkCMc0Mdd8qPUY0JMC-WROWOyFXOVdE1Xf__81ml5aVoxjF5_w8arX3jEKwAMhQomezbn5iAUWf4-0vJO1gmKF-4x0HhrOsuXCmS-Ho2JzHCwg2Hq6UkETzMZ72Oc/s320/IMG_0348.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226336823810810610" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" border="0" /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">We started to feel drops about 5 miles from our exit but it looked like the storm was going to stay northwest of us, and it did. We arrived at the convenience store at our exit exhausted and hungry for some ice cream. We were once again in need of a bike shop and were directed to the Spoke Shop, which was downtown and mostly on the way to Dick and Susan's.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">The people at the Spoke Shop were very friendly, letting Travis but is bike on the stand and helping him clean his drive train. For the past few days he has been struggling to clip in to his pedals and tried cleaning and adjusting his cleats. We promised the bike techs a six pack, "the darker the better," for their help before scurrying off to Dick and Susan's house whom we were a little bit late to meet. When I talked to them on the phone from the bike shop, I asked where a good place to eat would be and Dick said they had food for us at their house. What a deal!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">We pulled up to the house, tucked our bikes away in the greenhouse and were shown to our rooms. Separate rooms. Incredible! Before sitting down to dinner with them, I hopped into the shower, since my hygiene was questionable at best without having showered in the past 6 days.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Dinner was delicious lemon chicken, spaghetti, homemade potato salad, bread, beans and tomatoes and of course beer. Travis and I ate two platefuls each while hearing about Dick and Susan's adventures in New Zealand. Dick is a retired physics professor with a keen interest in environmentalism and traveling, so naturally we hit it off well. Susan worked as a teacher on the Indian Reservation but had also spent time in China a few years back. She used to ride her bike to work all through the Montana winter too!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Over dinner, Dick spoke some true words to live by. "You should take the trip of a lifetime, at least every couple of years." It sounds like he and Susan have successfully done that. We wrapped up dinner with some damn good Moose Tracks ice cream, before we were given a computer to catch up on e-mails with. I sent out some feelers on <a href="http://warmshowers.org/">warmshowers.org</a> for places to stay in Rapid City on the Fourth of July, so hopefully somebody will be able to put us up and we can join in on a real American barbecue.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Susan is going to fix breakfast for us at 7, so we are living quite large here. I hand washed my biking clothes in the sink with the dish washing detergent we brought along before crawling into the warm and comfortable bed these wonderful strangers had provided.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaCa7OvSg8aGDORgRCzJLQuDhkEsThhgz1ZewEVemiz-InRQT00ZmQ5Z7MvKvdZ2bf88DPSnpgCwEO4a72VyENOjd-NA9qKyWKRn40pXeeLXVG74juW04goGVz5RH-9i2jQZJwjW7UBJ0/s320/IMG_0349.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226370856150589666" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" border="0" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><table style="text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;">Time</td><td style="text-align: center;">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center;">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center;">Average</td><td style="text-align: center;">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center;">5:50:41</td><td style="text-align: center;">83.9</td><td style="text-align: center;">899</td><td style="text-align: center;">14.3</td><td style="text-align: center;">39.8</td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div> </div></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-49969689983593584502008-07-01T12:49:00.009+08:002008-07-24T00:15:54.799+08:00"So apparently you can't drink beer and walk up to buffalo in national parks. Who knew?" - Day 8<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_iUIVSbkrf5NVQh_BijYi2fry-X28MmyWJxNwZVfMGQRkoETKouiRYzwXEKAOr8EMwD712lax-rQbicZvEbKBCSmz2ZflPcp0bo3uX9C32Y16FhFfYIQnGgI5ckkV-3ufgIbzYVQvOXTS/s400/Picture+8.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226070326589261026" /><div style="text-align: left;">We woke up this morning with mosquitos swarming outside of our tent and insufficient water to make oatmeal or cream of wheat. Hence, we decided to get breakfast down the road in La Hood. I donned my rain gear for the first time all trip, cinching up my hood around my face, leaving only a small portion of my face and ankles exposed to the onslaught of mosquitos. We quickly tore down the tent after a Pop Tart breakfast.<br /></div><div><br /><div> </div><div>Our map showed a road that followed a river to Three Forks, which we opted to take rather than the interstate with its known uphill. The back road was a nice way to wake up, with very little traffic and a quiet ride by the river.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaucGtOl1WvyBrxsrB_4MmuLviaW-r3HAwIL7Q5RRuszXVTDrsLh_mI2QE2dafMObNee5k6xSNmncXbsi6HVOh8nFE1b9JfzQMUaXfI4XR0wvAP8INr1SrEAGEkVua1d65oHA8GJeXc8O/s320/IMG_0338.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226200943762997730" /><div style="text-align: left;">La Hood is a small city of approximately two buildings, and really shouldn't even be on the map. The restaurant wasn't open so we were left with no choice but to charge on to Three Forks with dwindling water and growing hunger pains.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">We reached Three Forks and rode straight to <a href="http://wheatmontana.com/">Wheat Montana Farms & Bakery</a>, a local bakery that grows its own wheat. There we met a couple who took interest in our biking gear and offered us their place to stay in Billings. We told them that we didn't think we'd be stopping in Billings but that if our plans changed we would definitely give them a call.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">We made good time along mostly flat terrain to just outside of Bozeman where Travis got a flat a mile before the exit and lunch. We had lunch at the Fresco Cafe in Bozeman, a town that's feel reminded me of Ft. Collins.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMbR4KhxDJ7XDmNoaUaKg6TNeEo22y74aPYjVqgMimCLeDr6zY68SA8xrHyUH5rFFom1-UjQVZHGLvRi0GTseTkXgnpDlx5krvzQOEKxRgHXB5U5yqPkpp7wcXe0M1_XdzlTt_lW164l7e/s320/IMG_0339.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226205048802521442" /><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">The pass out of Bozeman was our final big pass before the plains, it wasn't too bad except the downhill side was under construction so the interstate was down to two lanes of traffic with us riding on the left shoulder between the white line and the rumble strips. This left us inches away from the traffic, which for the most part was considerate but we had a few close calls. It was a decidedly unsafe and unenjoyable experience. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">On the flat stretch beyond Bozeman Pass, I took a look at my max speed to see how I'd done down the hill and was surprised to see that it said 50.2 mph. The fastest I'd hit before was 41.3 and I didn't think I'd exceeded that on the two lanes of terror. I think maybe I was riding close to Travis, who is using the same wireless cycle computer that I am, and my computer was picking up both signals when we were going 25 mph.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc7LrXJuhQWldni4ktczWukKkaneuBCnBYEzOs08aGz6wy8vzUTJ79EX3Mfk78SARF1lR8nZA9JGVfF93h76MZe0qhA6WoTehpDisjoZlpxkkLTyUziCDUsJbI1qGn_rp7QpmQIc29H1-a/s320/IMG_0345.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226208849278870354" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;">After the pass we got some good downhill and a quartering tailwind that left us cruising to Big Timber. On the way, I spotted a dot in the distance and figured it was another cyclist, so we put it in high gear and poured on the steam to catch up to them. He had a decent hybrid bike with a ragtag assortment of panniers and other doodads hanging from it. His name was Billy and he had recently spent the night in jail because he was drinking and getting too close to the Buffalo in Yellowstone. He was probably certifiable from the way he talked and the stories he told Travis while I rode behind listening and feeling bad for Travis. Billy isn't going to go back to Yellowstone for his arraignment.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGLYOZTWZzvdbmPItFebY3VZOR9NLVaFdTfJoZuqSav4s7CmliUy2u1eOPJccMQNq9lML_lWBvIo8bXMqVQlzEw5tsD0o4EbMzixbwjPq2RKE75MVGi2EAW9-w5PTte1ol7iB6y5O5EqaS/s320/IMG_0342.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226216563144726098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></span><div style="text-align: left;">We rode passed Billy only for me to get a front tire flat a few miles later. I'd never gotten a front flat on a road bike and didn't like it one bit. Mostly it was unfortunate though because it gave batshit Billy a chance to catch up to us. We were a scant 5 miles outside of Big Timber but the flat stole all our momentum and the winds shifted as a storm brewed off to the west.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFqD3AxmEJ99Jlsfpv0V64FkUvKyf_5hiwvSXDN6GdijJBdHqlYSYAqdpGbn8FMx30hjCUVsTGcGxaTiEj_qToZmfrMG5-mfING0f7LRSCvdTUkGLiHrEzX8IK95Ko2kBB8NhfyYBkFWe/s320/IMG_0343.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226226902857280082" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></span><div style="text-align: left;">It took a while to make the last few miles into Big Timber and the effort left us feeling famished. We didn't wait for Travis' friend Kyle to meet up with us and went straight to the Big Timber Bar to fill up on grub. There, a friendly gentleman told us of two free and nice places where we could pitch our tent and even drew maps to them on his napkin. He even offered to come tuck us in at night, if we'd cover his gas cost. His wife recommended that in Montana we could just walk up to a house and in all likelihood be granted permission to pitch in the yard.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">It rained on our bikes while we were in the bar, which was the first time our bikes had gotten wet. My plastic bagging of everything seemed to keep all of my belongings dry, and the storm was over after a few minutes. Hopefully we'll continue to have good luck with the weather!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We opted to take the woman's advice and knock on random doors in Big Timber to find a place to sleep. At the first house we knocked at we were directed to the pastor's house across the street. So we ended up spending another night in a church's yard. The mosquitos were out again, but after our experience in Cardwell this morning, we had decided to invest in some bug spray of our own, something that I would definitely recommend doing before starting a trip through Montana.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 85, 68); line-height: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;font-family:tahoma;font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvvG6Qn_w71XIx0v_VZdQxPVAlD-lwUohJEhgl1tNjfOf-9Z_lJCrw4UTYZGpfR892LkzQnxfQnJSoUqMJiizt1RpeX5l1AUfLpLuvEXXmyBFcqfIFqmvlro-5Y83_G3pssNH9J_ZQ3DSM/s320/IMG_0346.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226242300789086450" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></span><div style="text-align: left;">Kyle got into town after we'd set up the tent and hadn't eaten yet, so we went back to the bar. He treated Travis and me to drinks while we shared stories about college and women and fun. The people at the bar recommended that we not spend the night in Hardin, on account of it being on the Crow Indian Reservation, and not knowing any better decided to change our goal for tomorrow to Billings. We'll try to get in touch with the people from the bakery this morning and see about a place to stay, and maybe our second shower of the trip!<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><table style="text-align: center; "><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center; ">Time</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Average</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center; ">8:41:23</td><td style="text-align: center; ">122.9</td><td style="text-align: center; ">815</td><td style="text-align: center; ">14.1</td><td style="text-align: center; ">???</td></tr></tbody></table></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-50568914329545741692008-06-30T11:32:00.004+08:002008-07-23T12:46:24.959+08:00"Proof that there isn't a loving god: mosquitos" - Day 7<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnZ_d5nudB9TY_xxw6cuFTS3q7QdSaJpwH430ebNy7_54jtOyB24kz55AezjbGXkQrlPScAOQdAE6HE90lXQZizW3-8nBYRbK0Rncu4GD770QmTyyNlKsOTIFqd94fh4BrPB172VfRYns/s400/Picture+6.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226049332080611538" /><div>The alarm I had set for this morning was on vibrate only, so we didn't wake up until Travis' alarm went off at 7. We hurriedly packed the tent with few mosquitos pestering us and had Pop Tarts for breakfast. After refilling on water, we set off on the 70 miles towards Butte. Initially we were doing really well, averaging about 15 mph. With about 15 miles to go, we both tired considerably but still made it to Subway before our goal of 2 pm. We needed to restock on power bars and Gatorade powder, so we went to a Safeway in Butte. Butte was a depressing mining town and neither Travis or I were very impressed. I flatted again leaving Safeway, bringing my trip total to three flats.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYlQXoJsdJOxJNZ-iKObMdO3HOOtrvVU3FFjaBOVENp-O8ys00wkdqxmSvoEOV4oKwcvQFiRh35YWa1xwC1gVMdFo72Meyn_cb5mkTJaxCMQJH6AZfd5T7Hvnmt_arOim5cZltWZGz-l5/s320/IMG_0332.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226054130418444722" /><div style="text-align: left;">We knew that we had the continental divide coming today, but it ended up being easier than expected, with only about 4 miles of climb out of Butte. We of course took a picture at the summit and rejoiced that it would be all downhill from here. Unfortunately, that is not the case, but it still feels good to have the divide behind us, even if 80% of the continent is still in front of us.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAo4V-cNdkGD-Xt5FDHAN8Rez5ww8FOB_4u6x6LdtuT20UFZ_g-w6BOFh2nMs9a-2o0ZS5R-WTuehjocoh7Y-wxytbKtAheUj5WjcrrWLS8vi6rN5mo8OzPCfJVWy2QV13x9MpSXgZi_YW/s320/IMG_0334.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226058192019213682" /><div style="text-align: center;">Crossing the continental divide</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">At mile marker 247, a peace loving, friendly and hospitable Montana driver opted to discard a full cup of Coke in my direction. Travis was a ways in front of me and I didn't get their license plate number, unfortunately. It as decidedly disheartening that somebody would do that and I was damn fortunate that it didn't hit me.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We stopped for ice cream at the A&W in Whitehall before pushing the 7 miles to Cardwell. On the approach, we saw the dreaded sign "Chain-up area ahead," meaning an arduous uphill in our future. Sure enough, as we rounded the curve there was a dauntingly large hill in front of us. But the sun was setting, so we stopped in Cardwell, leaving the hill for tomorrow.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We made a makeshift dinner at the bar/lounge/casino/convenience store/campground and were delighted to find that it was only $10 for camping, laundry, and showers for the both of us. We even got our first round of beers free, and had another before venturing outside to set up camp. There we were swarmed by mosquitos like I have never seen before. Travis bravely stayed outside attempting to set up the tent, while I ran back to the store to invest in some bug spray. Unfortunately, they were all out, but Dawn, the bartender/waitress/clerk/campground hostess let me use some of her own personal supply. With the mosquitos temporarily at bay, we got the tent up and inside of it with very few joining us. I opted not to take a shower in the hopes that the bug spray would last until morning when we would have to break camp, but Travis decided to do laundry and take a shower.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5xqGY1Ws3_jC2fgvSq5i4IFFQnrMjIO1YOsdfLN_AHPrxCWs8u30BKR2li7lMFEy9gS9NcSvezRwsxW7Y5tVaeaD8uUBbDw-M6IXzJe08HIqLUJ1T6GImOe74x3ua3bQf5N6N1r3CRCT/s320/IMG_0337.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226065091496454210" /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It wasn't very intelligent to come without bug spray and I am not looking forward to the mosquito feast tomorrow morning. Nonetheless, we got some solid miles in today and will hopefully stay with Travis' friend Kyle tomorrow in Big Timber.</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><table style="text-align: center; "><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center; ">Time</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Average</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center; ">7:40:56</td><td style="text-align: center; ">103.7</td><td style="text-align: center; ">692</td><td style="text-align: center; ">13.4</td><td style="text-align: center; ">36.7</td></tr></tbody></table></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-81374611410123410852008-06-29T05:49:00.004+08:002008-07-23T11:48:09.485+08:00"Drummond just wants to have fun!" - Day 6<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBDOeYcNzZkj-5PYCyaNT9SuosZiJj2dhJnPBOo0WiqaXj0Q_6M35hHbC-E6Y7uvtfdT2B6addKflSfjz8eYyOGuDksI4WoR3uoRJXCLEq8Cweiy-qIJDAGGVzJk_nrW1HVEqIG2QeqauY/s1600-h/Picture+7.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBDOeYcNzZkj-5PYCyaNT9SuosZiJj2dhJnPBOo0WiqaXj0Q_6M35hHbC-E6Y7uvtfdT2B6addKflSfjz8eYyOGuDksI4WoR3uoRJXCLEq8Cweiy-qIJDAGGVzJk_nrW1HVEqIG2QeqauY/s400/Picture+7.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226051216662412994" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">We got up late this morning at 8:20 and cooked some delicious scrambled eggs on the camp stove which dirtied the skillet significantly. We headed to a gas station to fill up on water and grab some pastries for a second breakfast. 2.3 miles outside of town, I rode through some glass and got my first flat of the trip. About 4 miles later my left pedal stopped clipping in. Travis tried valiantly to do a roadside repair, but ended up destroying the pedal. We were faced with continuing with a dysfunctional pedal or returning 6 miles to a Missoula bike shop to buy a new one. We decided to backtrack.<br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim0GxvE8u5tL7UV_tf1VbYlMTGDQe0MARggyLszO7FyVbvqKuegVee46p8x26NWh3yyUza1ty-V9bEgfEurbjLveNfx3Uui4iacj2yrRXtNJ-aYVHKHaxI9u9k7XV7cdrCCsBidwdhixry/s320/IMG_0319.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225966241722465474" /><div><div style="text-align: center;">Travis destroying my pedal<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div></div><div style="text-align: left;">We limped back to Missoula to a bike shop where I picked up $20 "take-off" pedals and a wrench to adjust my maladjusted brakes. Travis also got some tubes at 20% off because Chad took sympathy on us and hooked us up with a discount. On our way out of Missoula, it was getting pretty late in the day so we stopped at Subway. Since it was already 1 o'clock and we hadn't made it out of town yet, we decided that today would be a rest day. Of course, I got another flat tire from an unknown source. However, the flat was a blessing in disguise because there were bald eagles soaring above the place it happened that we surely would've missed had the flat tire not happened. Unfortunately, Travis also got a nasty bee sting while I was repairing my tire, but as he's not allergic, it was okay. Travis' knee started giving him trouble so we slowed down for the rest of the day. My left achilles tendon had been hurting the past couple of days, so I didn't mind the slower pace.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPxp3MafLnyRS1ma2BY8N4FfEr6uQQ0cU2WOVMzv-3nLuksedvxvskHm3Q3E2i8o0Zo6DUYFdm3t0B9G0dH6YO3kGFQwRfA1DUTZ448F7EcV2OQBSaJcAWHflbkVYtgRM_WboN4hXLu0TW/s320/IMG_0322.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225971913495518242" /><div style="text-align: center;">We were a little early for the party</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">A few miles after the second flat tire, I saw a bunch of cars on the side of the road and some people on a nearby cliff. Turns out they were cliff jumping so we decided to cross the interstate and join them. We were done after one jump but it was a nicely refreshing and hopefully removed some of the salt stains that had accumulated on our jerseys.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9_TDd2OxzZpesLpvUJuu-4RRtFOzLfLISGBkh_x80swaQsdVjzA36mtr61yZYCCf2TvhBOVUPmGYJKcwHUlfGIPMtCsukZwQ8LoaFKy6H3FOB6xsM4Jk3JVFB-FHS1YkPnfswwtTdKDjY/s320/IMG_0324.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225968729547730786" /><div style="text-align: left;">We had set a goal of Drummond, only 50 miles outside of Missoula, but it was getting late and we were exhausted. We grabbed some delicious ice cream at Frosty Freeze before heading to the convenience store to get some trail mix and water. The trail mix was 1,200 calories for $2, which was about the best we've found. A local kid, or pest according to the clerk, was impressed with our helmet mirrors and after trying them out "helped" us fill our water bottles. The clerk, who is planning to get married to the son of the owner of Swede's bar recommended that we go there, so that's what we did.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWRcBfp7kaQBO-vJnwz9j_2qV-plerR91Xq7h9lkktSUqCmNcaYjXj_zMhrjxNY5ohIxsR2J-A3coFhx9CWCbEM5FJJr9rTVwrNiKvoBDpkSrAEGvV7Vgj8GGT8LLi4ijCANwzBaie642/s320/IMG_0326.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225974225227629186" /><div style="text-align: center;">Drummond - "World famous bullshippers"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">At the bar, Roger and Arnold bought a round of drinks for the entire bar, which was much appreciated. We chatted it up with Roger, a rancher/oil field worker from Canada who was in Drummond to participate in the senior rodeo with his brother, Gordy.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2FSjZcJAiEJBgrxaA3e4M-SeodYeNIxYc81wU749__OqrBPULJafXS3qhdwRtZo_KhPsNuhEw-KZyPLC0eG11qiJ6VYI03QglTJ1AJc2W1XTp8aUTUh8Yt05Hvk8OGITrTozkU2b99x1P/s320/IMG_0328.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225975595788046770" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Roger and his wife Lynn</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Roger and his Canadian friends were adept at playing the spoons, which was a foreign concept to Travis and me. However, after Travis requested some spoons from the bartender, Roger was eager to teach the stranger the ways of spooning.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkXtw2_l0cJA8lsM1IKXR_o-aMC1S4y-6NTq-WVOgTCn_5ir3acDoCexWFWt2-s_6ZIksCZNXsoaR3Zdvkc_FfyJ4tt6mXNKj_ia5nrxjYHYIJJn1MlcBgViOEWKqTnAdyFB5CJ3GUM828/s320/IMG_0329.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225976726943191202" /><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">We got the business card from the bar, as we have started collecting addresses to that we can send a post card to all of the wonderful people whom we have met along the way once we reach New York. Tomorrow we'll try to hit La Hood, about 105 miles from Durmmond. Hopefully we won't have to pay for the $10.50 camping tonight at the park in Drummond, so we've got an alarm set for early in the morning to duck out before the ranger comes.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table style="text-align: center; "><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center; ">Time</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Average</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center; ">5:25:40</td><td style="text-align: center; ">63.0</td><td style="text-align: center; ">588</td><td style="text-align: center; ">11.5</td><td style="text-align: center; ">27.4</td></tr></tbody></table></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-15189759692595918172008-06-28T04:38:00.001+08:002008-07-23T05:56:57.747+08:00"You riding a Specialized tire? Oh, you're only going to get two flats the whole trip!" - Day 5<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx5EGOluYGhQp2xclfYSM-xSatoHyHnCyCIzkMeAQmDBS2rufd1AueuzB7KuLYi2lbsdwMc3XhJJbZ84AQJYLaoMqDI124ydKI_roB7dGyJ8s9uGdkG5E_Tq_FGOekTczLZn32xa7pFKZt/s400/Picture+6.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225946590406146722" /><div style="text-align: left;">5 days in and still going strong. It was a tough 1,300 ft, 6 mile climb out of Mullan this morning, followed by downhill and flat all of the way to Missoula. We crossed into Montana at around 9, after leaving Mullan at 8. We also had our first time zone change into mountain time, losing an hour. We stopped for lunch at Subway in St. Regis, where they also don't give points on Subway cards. The information center there also had Montana maps as well as internet access, so I was able to get some things straightened out with my visa for China.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbYhCYjloZC8tIK2PEAUgkPRJ6Yi3TVaU-jmOosUIc2sy0ka3ZKJPaCX4WL3IXl2lpWQZNoEVXXu6z9U49oF9TSNvmoMXfNqmUf-CQ4916aVlwqhX5CRO6VL84mB85Z8COFgcksHomASv/s320/IMG_0315.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225951272007417474" /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;">As usual, the afternoon was a struggle as the mile markers slowly creep up to whatever target we are looking for. It was made more of a struggle by Travis' tire going flat twice. The owner of his bike shop had said that he'd only get two flats the entire trip using the Armadillo tires, but his was defective and a loose wire was puncturing the tubes, causing three flats over as many days. So he switched to the spare tire.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">While we were staying with Kate in Spokane, she had a friend who had ridden across the country e-mail us with suggestions. The subject of her e-mail was "ICE CREAM ICE CREAM ICE CREAM!!!" We hadn't really thought ice cream before, and set a goal of reaching Alberton to get some there. Drumsticks at the local market were only $0.65, so I got two plus a packet of lunch meat. The ice cream was exceedingly refreshing, and we weren't really concerned about what we were eating, figuring we'd burn whatever we stuffed our faces with. The market's bulletin board was a hot spot for local advertisers, including one entrepreneur who offered:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivzEQsh6iqHN32RYBbdoz3ELOrNQ2k87mIEWX5l03alOqZJVkxx1WlspZthw-TKdlbt1wsuk5CZoI1tffpAtXh7c6hd0Gj5FAivcMNPMzUMS4aIWCgGkcuEffKKZnyFjO7nl3Y7BJXMu3Z/s320/IMG_0318.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225954194106274002" /></div><div style="text-align: left;">After our break in Alberton, we still had thirty miles to Missoula and it was getting a little late. We finally hit Missoula at around 7:30 after holding an average of about 16 mph through easy terrain. Our search for a place to camp took a while and through a number of false leads, which brought us to the boyhood home of the author of "A River Runs Through It," but sadly we couldn't stay there. Eventually we were directed to a Greek Orthodox church nearby. Just outside the church, I fell over twice within about 20 ft after being too tired to unclip from my pedals. It was decidedly embarrassing. The pastor of the church was playing chess with the next door neighbor and was fine with us pitching our tent in the church yard. Before setting up camp, we shared a delightfully satisfying pizza from Pizza Pipeline, and headed to the local market. I made Ramen with an egg, and saved a few eggs for scrambled eggs in the morning.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Travis has a friend in Big Timber, 263 miles from Missoula and we decided to try to get there in three days. So tomorrow will be short at 80-90 miles. The mosquitos here are annoying, but we probably won't be out of their territory for a while. It's also predicted to be a scorcher tomorrow, so I'll have to remember to ice my water bottles when we refill. America sure is a big country.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table style="text-align: center; "><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center; ">Time</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Average</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center; ">7:48:59</td><td style="text-align: center; ">114.3</td><td style="text-align: center; ">525</td><td style="text-align: center; ">14.6</td><td style="text-align: center; ">38.7</td></tr></tbody></table></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699489310370322117.post-26141478773360263832008-06-27T01:03:00.008+08:002008-07-23T04:36:13.159+08:00"That'll be $2.50 please." - Day 4<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkT70lv3niSZKlvanbkj7AE_RQo35-LWVL0KXTl2hUcSvCVzXX7W6u5mRI_lSdiXZGaa_N0ee1boXwZ2hsRnsGklaMwjr8wnGq7k2BE1EBDev6CDRpFZ6X8LWv3K-xm8ZiQCLv7FubWNp0/s1600-h/Picture+5.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkT70lv3niSZKlvanbkj7AE_RQo35-LWVL0KXTl2hUcSvCVzXX7W6u5mRI_lSdiXZGaa_N0ee1boXwZ2hsRnsGklaMwjr8wnGq7k2BE1EBDev6CDRpFZ6X8LWv3K-xm8ZiQCLv7FubWNp0/s400/Picture+5.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225886485865504098" /></a><br /></div><div>Day 4. Boom. We had a late start today on account of how comfortable Kate's futon was. We woke up at 8, made bacon and eggs for breakfast and packed our stuff. We finally got on the road around 10. Kate had found the Centennial Trail, an alternative to I-90 that would take us from Spokane to Coeur D'Alene, ID. Riding out of Spokane we were a little worried because the water was still high on the river and the road had been closed a few weeks earlier, but it all turned out fine.</div><div><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0HVnEQOm81blPRRWFR-lDxsHlCetNrKCc9T_9trV35mpZqREeNK9Z_YxotxfRJhjG6BrQbmDZYnu-LwIuJnqZhsgNrC6psattSm87QVT2sw6TTLmJJ68M77V5bCFf-Cymx1e68jn7p4L/s320/IMG_0297.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225923992422262050" /><div style="text-align: left;">We hopped on the trail and were on it for about 10 miles when my front shifter became maladjusted. We happened to stop in front of a nice elderly lady's house, who offered us her tools as soon as we stopped. She even had a grinder that I was able to use to shorten the screw I needed to attach my cable guide. It was a pleasant switch to be on the trail instead of the interstate, and we reached our first milestone of a state border early in the morning.<br /></div></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTyAlI-EweXXg9NwVcamfkn89EDwZo3DLuEN4MxyQl3MGlowBVwIZIwrVFmwYB-puAZCmg4rJ500AYgIDhVSFqCzo-WkEJb5wFRr3YSx2SOJK6wzDEDpZtnNKdKybDW6t7QJC50LzuPYP/s320/IMG_0301.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225925226579690994" /><div style="text-align: center;">Travis in Idaho and me in Washington</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;">The trail dropped us into the rather pleasant town of Coeur D'Alene, where we grabbed some Subway. Apparently in Idaho they don't give points on the Subway cards, which was a big disappointment. After lunch, we continued cycling along I-90 up 4th of July Pass, which brought us to our highest elevation yet of 3,069 ft.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiNMcNjJ4bPI2phFe7mG0O713-_hIMReUbptmvwwr11T_Xd6BYMR2ZvipsdQdAt7rdDMEGgTy2lCfGqLfdreDj8zvqxS-NYpYVcDl_kZ2WXSdIzrlwd0AKZEu9AYHU5n1jnLYNv7PluzoR/s320/IMG_0306.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225932570628354338" /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; ">The pass dropped us down into Kellogg, where we were able to catch another bike trail that took us up to Mullan. Since it was Travis' 23rd birthday, we decided to celebrate at a bar there. We ended up at the Smoke Shop Tavern where we ordered a draught beer. The bartender, Leann, gave us our drinks and told us it'd be $2.50. I handed her $5, expecting it to be $2.50 each and was quite surprised when we got $2.50 back. That's right, $1.25 draughts. The only food they had were bags of Doritios, so we gorged ourselves on those and beer. We also learned one of the tricks of the trip by asking at the bar where a good place to pitch our tent would be. The locals recommended that we throw it up on the far side of the local football field, which we did. Before leaving, we played Queen's "Bicycle Race" on the jukebox.</span><br /></div></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOjkwCm8-P_sRTNb_H8tmkoR3CIL0hgpHQQbEP-I4bndlrSyb3oxraKwQeVFS0L-qmXdjf0FWZd21fKrUWuQhT5MbPayMwTRKnZiZtnu6UWxE_iB5rEYUDCotwYbY5PO7q4VloW3tNfC1_/s320/IMG_0311.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225938012360031634" /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Tomorrow we've got 6 miles to the top of Lookout pass, after which it should be smooth sailing to Missoula. Overall, today had nice scenery and plenty of friendly people, especially in Mullan. Also, Mullan is now our highest elevation yet at about 3,400 ft.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table style="text-align: center; "><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center; ">Time</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Trip</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Odometer</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Average</td><td style="text-align: center; ">Max</td></tr><tr><td style="text-align: center; ">7:45:45</td><td style="text-align: center; ">96.8</td><td style="text-align: center; ">411</td><td style="text-align: center; ">12.4</td><td style="text-align: center; ">40.5</td></tr></tbody></table></div>Davidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04165749814700841330noreply@blogger.com0