tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65933817836034941112024-03-12T23:49:08.279-07:00American Dirt 2012Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-43895935332508708762012-07-31T17:10:00.000-07:002012-07-31T17:10:34.650-07:00Epilogue<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Tuesday,
July 31. Newport Beach, CA.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-hQzVSwa9Pu4LvbK2Q_fyGHUaMKWjfyxt3c7fjf2K3fShbgLquoVQ2geLQ6-4SoLL-UT6330A0i5lXWCYY7jWHSthPcFbiRQX5LSoYvaImQHWZt7yizf80fao_l1Ko5HcadiZkv1SFk/s1600/DSC01643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz-hQzVSwa9Pu4LvbK2Q_fyGHUaMKWjfyxt3c7fjf2K3fShbgLquoVQ2geLQ6-4SoLL-UT6330A0i5lXWCYY7jWHSthPcFbiRQX5LSoYvaImQHWZt7yizf80fao_l1Ko5HcadiZkv1SFk/s320/DSC01643.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Stayed up
late last night – 10:30 – watching the Olympics on the couch at Glenys’ house
and I ended up pretty much falling asleep in the seated position with old guy
drool beginning to dribble down the side of my mouth. Time for beddy bye! And
what a wonderful feeling it was to sleep until 7:30 AM. THAT was just like
nirvana. And not having to get on the bike to ride for the first time in 60
days. THAT feels good. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
I realize that I’ve been able to do some things that you just cannot take for
granted, such as for example these cross-country bike trips. So to hear me say
that I’m happy to not be getting up early to ride my bike, that probably sounds
heretical. But honestly, sometimes when you get used to something for a long
period of time, no matter how precious that particular activity or lifestyle
might be, you tend to get a bit complacent, or stale, or even a bit tired of
the routine, of the hum-drum. That’s me right now. The end of this trip as
opposed to the ends of the previous three, this one was the most anticipated
and the most appreciated. Really, and I’m not exaggerating here, it’s a sense
of relief to finish this one. It was just that hard mentally and physically.
I’m ready to get back to the routine I’d left 60 days ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
here I am sitting in this beautiful, cozy little house on the bay of Newport
Beach trying to put into words what all this is, what it was, and what it means
to me. First let’s go through the stats on this trip: 3710 miles from DC to
Oceanside, CA in 59 straight days. No off days on this trip. The daily average
= 62 miles – very low compared to my previous trips and yet I had support this
year. I’ve easily spent triple<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the
amount of money for this trip as I had in the previous three. And yet I’m still
light years from actually accomplishing my vision of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>American Dirt having done about 1700 miles of dirt out of
those 3700 miles of riding. The physical difficulty of this year’s journey was
exponentially tougher than the previous three. Ditto for the mental difficulty.
The preparation for this one, the equipment, the logistics, the terrain –
ditto, ditto, ditto, and more ditto. But hey, that’s what I had wanted to do,
to do something way more challenging that what I’d done on the previous trips.
On that side, this was a total success. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
let’s get to the crux of the matter – riding across the country totally on soft
surfaces – American Dirt. You could boil it down to the simplest of questions:
success or failure now that I’m finished? Had you asked me how I would answer
that question several months prior to doing this trip, back in the formative
days, I’d have answered that it would be failure to not accomplish the goal, or
at least come very close to accomplishing the goal. Today, having been through
what I’ve just been through, I’d have to say that it was a success in that I’ve
gotten just a bit closer to accomplishing this grandiose goal. I suppose that
having put so much sweat, blood, time and money into this, and then calling it
a complete and utter failure would take away from the numerous positive gains
that I’d made. Now I am still kind of second guessing myself on a number of
different fronts here, you know, the woulda, coulda, shoulda stuff. And I think
that’s only natural. But honestly, I think you’ve got come away from an attempt
like this with an air of optimism, with a sense of what you’ve learned and what
you need to do differently to get closer to the prize. And by God I’ve really
learned a ton on this attempt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
my first blog back on 5/21 I stated that I did not think that I’d be able to do
the complete American Dirt in its purest sense, and that I’d have to create
some parameters to live by where I could kind of “cheat” my way through certain
situations and terrains. These I’d erroneously figured might make it possible
to reach the west coast with a “pseudo-AD route established. And those
guidelines I lived by for 17 days of riding, where I managed to get from DC to
Hocking Hills SP in Ohio nearly the whole way on soft surfaces – save for at
the VERY most<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a couple miles of
pavement on super dangerous descents where I had only two choices:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>walk or ride pavement. I rode and
bike-a-hiked on trail, ATV track, dirt roads, foot trails, RR tracks, and on
gravel and earthen berms alongside asphalt roads. But during my ride on 6/18 I
came to the realization that even with the “cheat” parameters as options we
were just so far away from making it across the country at that pace with those
parameters. Back then I was averaging a mere 25-30 miles/day and putting in 5-7
hr days that were just kicking my ass. Forget about doing 100/day – that belief
was a pipedream once I got down to the real deal! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">What followed next on 6/18 was “The Decision,” blog, my
sarcastic parody of Lebron Jame’s asinine TV program about his choosing an NBA
team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had come to the decision
that I’d rather get all the way across the country with even more “cheat”
sections than I would by spending a fortune in time, money and effort and only
getting as far as the Mississippi River by staying true to the cause. And
staying true to the cause meant long sections of berm riding through Southern
Ohio, Southern Indiana and Southern Illinois. That berm riding was the hardest,
most intimidating, brutal<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- and
dangerous – riding that I’d ever done on a bike. That was my undoing so to
speak. As I think back, the fact that this revelation occurred in Southern Ohio
makes total sense to me. I mean down there riding up the relentless and steep
asphalt hills is hard enough, but when you try to do it on the gravel and
earthen berms of those asphalt roads it’s just so difficult that I cannon truly
describe it with any sort of justice. You have to experience it day after day
to feel the total and complete beat down of going only 25 miles in a whole day
of riding. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Now I’d anticipated and embraced this facet of riding when
training for the trip over the past year, but NEVER upon anything on par with
the severity and frequency of the terrain I encountered in Southern Ohio. I had
struggled up and down so many of those climbs on berms that I think it just
broke me mentally. Seeing one berm climb after another, and one berm descent
after another and knowing that I’d either be pushing the bike, or climbing and
descending in weeds, rubble, gravel, or in ditches, that really helped me see
the light as to just how complex this American Dirt thing really was. And not
only was it just the physically taxing nature of the trip, but it was also the
whole concept of the time and money needed to do it properly. That just
completely showed me the reality of such an endeavor. The light bulb went on in
my head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">So yes, American Dirt could be certainly be done by bridging
all the soft surface tracks I’d researched by riding on berms, but the cost of
said berm riding – SHEEEEEEEE IT was that a high cost indeed! Thus, I decided
to concede to riding asphalt instead of the berm as the bridges to my soft
surface tracks, thereby continuing on the trek westward with a savings of time,
money and effort. So that was really my first concession of the trip, and as
much as I broke my initial rules, I was ok with the decision. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Enter next the heat wave, actually heat wave #1 of the trip.
And damn there were many on this trip. Heat wave #1 began in Southern Ohio,
where temps had risen to the 90’s, and it just continued with me all through
IN, IL, MO, and KS. Riding on the regular road is one thing in heat and
humidity, but go on gravel, dirt, trail, ATV track, and suddenly the efforts
are more strenuous, more time consuming, and much slower. That heat just made
each and every twist and turn in the road that much tougher to get through. And
this is where, for the fist time in 4 straight years of crossing the country
that I actually had thoughts of quitting cross my mind. Now I know that part of
it was from having done it three times previous. Somehow, the act of
replicating a challenge is harder because you’ve already accomplished it. I
remember the time I crossed Canada, and it was my first trans-continental
crossing, and I’ll tell you what: there was NEVER a second where I considered
quitting. I was as driven as I’d ever been in attaining my goal. Such was also
the case for my second trip across the US where I went solo. And honestly, it
was the same for my third solo across the US. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">But as I look back on this trip, could be that my having
conceded to letting go of those initial goals, that may have been a catalyst to
the negative vibes I was getting once the going got tough with the heat. I mean
what the hell, I’d given up on crossing the country as I’d envisioned it for
American Dirt, what was the use of going on in that way with that heat on
asphalt roads?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And there were
several times where I would talk to Judy in the evening and relay to her my
feelings about quitting. She was always willing to stand by me no matter what
the decision. So I’d sleep on it, get up in the morning, put on the game-face
and do it all over again. I think it all came down to the fact that despite me
loosing hold of my initial goal, I still had some kind of goal to reach for,
and that was finishing the job – riding across the country. It was still a
challenge. And beside…I just hate quitting!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">So we made it to MO, with me having ridden a combination of
asphalt and soft surfaces through some extremely challenging terrain in
Southern OH, IN, and IL. The heat only continued as we rode the gravel Katy
Trail 265 miles through MO. But once in KS, the heat long heat wave died down
enough for me to really regroup, refocus and get down to business and go for
the gusto with dirt and gravel riding damned near through the whole state of
KS. I’d felt re-energized, reinvigorated, reborn with my American Dirt concept.
And I have to say that this was some of the most enjoyable as well as
challenging riding I’d done in all my life. Those 4-500 miles of dirt, gravel,
sand, that was what I’d dreamed about for American Dirt. But again, more
setbacks came along, this time in the way of thorns that punctured and ruined
every tire, tube and patch kit I’d had on board for the trip. From far Western
KS into Eastern CO, I was flatting 1, 2, 3 times per day from the notorious
“sandbur”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Suddenly I just felt totally deflated again, having made
such good time and distance with the gravel and earthen riding, and feeling
like I had a real shot at redemption, but then being suddenly shot in the ass
by stuff I’d never even anticipated. That was frustrating, I think mainly
because it was a very big detail<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>that I’d not even considered when planning this trip. It was from out of
left field and it was formidable. My dirt riding ground down to a halt until I
could get the proper equipment to deal with it. That had meant that I was going
to have to ride half way across CO before I could get to a bike shop that would
have the right gear. I mean hell, on the KS/CO border there was nothing in the
way of bike shops. Had to drive to Pueblo, CO for the gear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Once I did get that situation taken care of with thorn
resistant tubes, tires and liners, the tubes began failing on me. Why I’m still
not sure. Was it operator error in the installation of all these pieces, or
just plain ole equipment failure of the tubes? I mean there were several
situations where I was just so pissed off that I wanted to cash it in and end
the madness right then and there. That was a time of some real soul searching,
because I was really still a long, long way off from reaching the coast. You
get to the Eastern border of CO and look at a map – that just BARELY a smidge
over half way across the country! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">At that point I’d really reckoned with the next direction
we’d go, what with all the sandbur trouble and the route logistics. Prior to
reaching Limon, CO the logistics were pretty simple with respect to keeping the
trip on dirt – use tracks that parallel the interstates such that we had easy
access to support and communication. But west of Limon, support logistics
became exponentially more difficult. No longer did the dirt tracks parallel the
interstates. Many of the tracks drifted for tens if not more miles off of
parallel. And ten to twenty miles away from the interstate you loose
cell-service. What’s more these were roads that turned out to be totally out of
the question for Judy to drive an 8-passenger van on for support. From my
experiences on the dirt roads of MO and KS, these were tracks that were usable
only to motocross motorcycles, ATV’s and 4-wheel drive vehicles. Yup, that’s
what I learned in MO & KS about dirt roads on maps: it may be listed as a
road, it may look like a road, it may have a name like a road, but in reality
it may be nothing more than an access path or a rutted out ribbon of dbl track.
Good thing about MO & KS was the fact that the van would be a mere 1-5 miles
away along the paralleling interstate, so I was always within support distance.
Not so from Central CO westward. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">So despite having new skins for the mt bike, and an ability
to take on the thorns of the west, I had to figure out whether it was prudent
or not to do the second half of the trip on truly remote stretches of dirt
through mts, plains and/or deserts. Either way I decided to go, whether it
would be north across WY, UT and ID, or south across NM, AZ and CA, I’d still
have two things to deal with the remoteness of the dirt tracks. Couldn’t get
around that fact that I’d either be truly unsupported in many sections or that
I’d have to take a chance and have Jude drive the van on dirt tracks that could
be real trouble. Just couldn’t get around that one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">In the end my decision was to go the southern route through
NM, AZ and CA into new territory for me with respect to riding X-country, and
to do most all of the riding on asphalt, with the support dilemma being a real
consideration. But honestly though, let the truth be told, by that point I was
fried, burned out, tired and wanted to finish the friggen trip. So even when we
were next to frontage roads that were gravel, dirt and sand, I opted for the
asphalt only because I could go faster, ride easier, and finish quicker. Could
I have tacked on another 3-500 miles of soft surfaces to the trip’s total?
Unequivocally yes! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">But mind you now, even doing the asphalt through NM, AZ and
CA, that was just a total bitch what with the desert heat. Never had I
experienced such severity of heat on an hourly basis. It was a major deal to
get up every morning at 3:30 AM to be on the road at 5:30 AM in an attempt to
try to get a jump on the heat. You’d get in maybe like 2.5 hrs where you’re
pretty good, and then by 10 AM it became otherworldly. It was like riding in a
blast furnace. Again, cashing it in would have been so easy to do each and
every day. And I knew from past experience that if I could just went one more
day, and then one more day, again and again and again, that once finished I’d
be proud of the fact that I didn’t give up, no mater how far off of my goal I
was. And that’s why I finished – I just did not want to give in to that
negative voice in my head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Up until now I haven’t really touched on the most important
component of this trip - Judy. Really, without her help, encouragement and
support there is no way in the world I could have done what I did this year.
Her job in many ways was so much harder than what I did. And her mental
strength to do so day after day was amazing. I mean the last 60 days she’s run
that van all over hell’s half acre, getting food made for me, buying supplies,
setting up hotels and motels, getting information, listening to my rants and
raves and my periodic episodes of insanity. She boiled her buns off in the heat
waiting patiently for me in remote areas, all alone, and always (almost) with a
smile. The list goes on and on. There is just no way in the world that I could
have done this particular route solo – impossible. She was my sounding board in
the evening after so many days when I wanted to just say the hell with it. She
endured many, many mornings of me getting up at 3 & 4 AM to get ready for
the day on the road, and endured my having to work for 3-4 hrs every afternoon
as soon as I got off the bike. She put up with this nonsense for two months and
is still here by my side. And for that I’m deeply happy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">So there it is…Take it for whatever you think. Now comes the
big question: Do I believe that American Dirt is possible? Absolutely, yes I
do. But with this addendum: I can and will not attempt to do this again as we
did it this year. It’s for too big for two people – a rider and a support
person in a non-off road vehicle. To really accomplish American Dirt takes more
money and time than I alone have to put in. It’s really a major endeavor that
will take at least triple the finances that I’d put into this year. Not only
that, but it will take at least 3-4 other support members and at least 1 more
vehicle – a pilot vehicle that is a 4-wheel drive and able to go on every road
the rider/riders go on. It will take someone other than just the rider/riders
to negotiate the ever-changing route in real time, not just the night before as
I had done on this trip. It will take a minimum of 3 months, and quite possibly
4-6 months to do it right, berms and all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">But as I stated in my first blog back in May, I’m
taking a break on this cross-country stuff, even if I came upon a sponsor who
would be willing to give this American Dirt thing a go. I just need a break for
a bit. I need to recharge with some other trips and other adventures, and then
maybe, just maybe come back to American Dirt with a new attitude and a new
sense of adventure. I also owe my girlfriend a very big trip of HER choosing
for what she’s just endured for me. And with this I’m going to close it out and
say thanks so much to all of you for your continued encouragement through this
trip. I have to say that there were days when that one email helped to pick up
my spirits and keep me moving west. Love you guys and I look forward to seeing
each and every one of you when we get home. All the best everyone……….pete and
judy.</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-84826058124563008822012-07-30T14:37:00.000-07:002012-07-30T14:42:36.115-07:00DONE<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b>Monday,
July 30. Temecula, CA to Oceanside, CA. 36 miles of riding in 2:23 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Did it.
Have to admit that after yesterday’s ride I was super concerned that my last
30-40 to the coast would be as hair-raising as the Sunday ride. Really, I
cannot explain what a bloody cluster F my ride was yesterday. I was just
mentally maxed out at the end of that ride. But, still, we slept relatively
late this morning, with me getting up at a recreational 5 AM and working for a
bit, and then I went through my final morning’s tear down/load up routine. We
did a cheapie little continental breakfast at the motel and then we were off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> I decided to
take Pechanga Pkwy south to jcn with Rt 76 west, and then get off of 76 before
it turned into an expressway in Oceanside. I’d take a chance on E. Vista and
then Oceanside Blvd. This was really throwing it up there and hoping for the
best. I also wasn’t sure if I’d be climbing any more, or just descending down
to the coast. So the ride began at 7 AM down Pechanga, which was fairly light
in traffic this morning, but devoid of a berm. But at least it wasn’t like the
Autobahn I was on yesterday. And within 3 miles I began this great little
switchbacky descent – with zero berm. And this guy was TIGHT. It definitely got
me thinking to myself during that run: “WTF, does this state have any berm at
all on their state and local roads?” Again, just like yesterday, there were
blind corners around rock outcrops where I was right up against the wall. No
room for error here – for me or the traffic. So this pup descended hard and
fast until I flattened out and saw a sign for elevation – 650 ft. That was all
I needed: I was out of the mts and onto the coastal plains. There may be more
zero berm roads to ride but no more mts to climb. That helped to really take
the sting out of the no berm riding. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">We ended up in the Indian Reservation town of Pala where we
turned west onto Rt 76, again, pretty much little to no berm. But the traffic
was fairly light, so no problem there. It was only when we crossed over Rt 15
that the traffic got much heavier, with the addition of 18-wheelers. Prior to
that no vehicle over 40 feet in length was allowed on the roadway. So I really
tried to hug that white line for all it was worth. After 2 days of this I’m a
pro at holding my line!! So that stretch down 76 after passing over I-15 was
just a tad gnarly. But, just nothing like yesterday. So I was ok. The terrain
was typical of what I’d ridden through Sunday – dry, semi-arid coastal mts. The
temp was just great – round about 70. By this time I could smell the ocean.
Ocean fog still hung in the early morning air, blocking out the sun ever so
slightly. Around me were palm trees, prickly pear cactus, all sorts of exotic
flowers and grasses. Kids were scooting around on skateboards and folks were
pedaling along on cruiser bikes. The wind was blowing lightly out of the west,
but honestly, it could have been blowing at 30 mph and I’d still have been
pumped to be at the end. Hell, there could have been a earthquake and I’d be in
the zone to finish. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> The
closer we got to Oceanside the more the traffic got and the happier I was to
have made the decision not to take 76 all the way to the coast. It just looked
like it was way too intense on the map, and the name changed to Expressway with
about 10 miles to go to the coast. So I got on google and found a kind of
round-about way to get down to the beach. We took a left on E. Vista Way, where
I had a blooming bike lane. Well I’l BD! So that was a small climb and then a
descent down into the city of Vista where we took a right on W. Bobier, where
again I had a nice bike lane. Now I was grooving, and all of a sudden the
stress of no berm riding in SoCal was a thing of the past. W. Bobier soon
turned into Oceanside Blvd when I entered Oceanside. And you guessed it – full
on bike lane! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> The
riding was casual and my pace was relaxed. Actually, on any of the small climbs
I just had zero gas in the legs. My legs had not felt this toasted in the whole
trip. So I just really spun it out in easy gears with a high cadence. No
worries though as I was kind of in Zen land – with a burst of thoughts popping
in and out of my head of all the riding I’d done on this trip. It was a kind of
flashback ten or fifteen minutes where I’d just move backwards in time to certain
rides that stood out over the past two months. I eventually drifted all the way
back to Maryland and the C&O trail. That felt really good. Met Judy down
about a block from the entrance to I-5, where I told her we had to go another
mile or two to get to the beach. And sure enough we went under I-5 and across
Highway 101 and Oceanside Blvd deadended at S. Pacific Street and the Pacific
Ocean. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> I
asked a local if there was a place to park to gain beach access and he directed
us to a place down the road to the south just about a quarter mile. So we took
a Louie on S. Pacific St. and found Buccaneer Park, situated right across the
street from the ocean and a public beach. Took a stroll down about 100 yrds of
beach and Jude took a couple pics of me next to the ocean. And with that we
were done, and I stress the word WE. I couldn’t have done this route, this
trip, this year without the help of Judy. This was a tough one – mentally and
physically - and I’ll go into that more on tomorrow’s blog, the last blog of this
trip. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Right
across the street was this little on the east side of the road was this little
café. I changed in the van out of my rotted out kit – I’m going to take a
picture of this crap and post it cuz you just wouldn’t believe it. We sat down
and ordered some breakfast burritos and coffee and just relaxed at 10 AM. I
haven’t had that luxury for 2 months, to chill out and drink coffee and eat
breakfast in a relaxed manner at 10 AM! The burritos were spectacular. We sat
there for a good hour just people watching and talking about the past two
months. Jude was curious if I was sad to see it end, and I gave her an emphatic
NO. I was totally ready to be done this year. Again, more on all that
psychological crap in the Epilogue tomorrow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Finished
up and did the I-5 and Coastal Hwy 1 north to Glenys’ house in Newport Beach.
And that’s where I’m at right now, sitting in a cozy little house right on the
water on a peninsula. All is good. Judy and Glenys went out for a walk around
the peninsula while I catch up on my work. We’ll be doing some fillets on the
grill tonight and hang out at the beach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> This
year as opposed to last, I will indeed write one last blog – the Epilogue. This
will pretty much be my synopsis of the trip and what all this – these last 4 year’s
of crossings – have meant to me and how they’ve changed me, and where I’ll go
from here. Anyway, we’re done and we’re safe and sound, and I’m quite happy to
know that I can get up tomorrow and not get on a bike. I think Judy would
second that one! All the best everyone………..Pete</span>Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-1836361001177073062012-07-29T17:45:00.000-07:002012-07-29T17:45:00.648-07:00Bermless roads and SoCal drivers<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Sunday,
July 29. Indio, CA to Temecula, CA. 85 miles of riding in 6:07 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">I’ve always
said that you should always expect the unexpected on a X country bike trip.
Trouble is that I tend to forget that important tenant far too often. Today was
a classic case of that. Went to bed last evening thinking that I’d have some
serious climbing to do to get across SanJacinto Mts and the Santa Rosa Mts, but
then I’d be out of the desert heat and in the cool mt air for some amazing high
country riding. NOPE!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>First
I’m going to digress just a tad. We went to this little hole in the wall
restaurant last night called Frankie’s. The place is famous for sushi and fish.
Had reservations going in based on first impressions, but wow, what wonderful
experience for such a meager price. Did some sushi for apps. which were just
crazy good, and then got these main dishes that were awesome. I got a big bowl
of miso fish soup with chunks of fish tail, belly, cheeks and shrimp. Add some
mushrooms and Japanese veggies to that and it was out of this world. I damn
near licked the bowl at the end. Jude got a Mahi Mahi with like a Salsa Verde
on top. WOW. Great stuff. And I mean part of it was like: “well, I just have
this little jaunt over the mts and down to the sea. We’re there!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
I stayed up late, watched the Olympics and had a couple Fosters Oil cans – too
many. Just totally did everything I didn’t do for the past 2 months of pre-ride
evenings. And it bit me in the ass today!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Did the
breakfast buffet in our hotel this morning and I had two heaping plates of
eggs, sausage and sausage gravy. I took off at 7 AM, in the desert city of
Indio thinking that I’d be up in the mts in 3 hrs max and enjoy the cool mt
air. So my pace was relaxed and my attitude was relaxed. Jude stayed around the
hotel to watch some morning Olympics. The ride down Rt 111 from Indio through
Indian Wells and Palm Desert was pretty spectacular what with all the massive
palm trees lining the road coupled with the amazing homes, haciendas and hotels
along the way. The places just reeked of money, money, money. But it was quite
beautiful to ride through. Now that riding was mellow, with it being a Sunday
morning the traffic was very light. Temp was in the mid 80’s so that was not
biggie. But once I got to Palm Desert and jcn with Rt 74, my world changed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
I knew that Rt 74 was about 26 miles of climbing, but as soon as I made the
turn off of Rt 111 onto 74, the climbing was right in my face. That road ramped
up out of the valley for a good 4 miles at 6-7%. Jude was waiting for me at
this trailhead area where the road really ramped up into the heavens. I knocked
down a quart of ice water and a Powerade. Having just done that 4 miles of climbing,
I was totally soaked in sweat. I mean I was literally dripping. My jersey top
was completely saturated. That was a freaking wake up call! And when I looked
to the south up that climb it was just totally crazy, looking like it switched
back and forth a gazillion times. So I toweled off my face and neck and got it
rolling. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>On
the good side I was able to do this whole climb in the middle ring. I just kept
a good rhythm and spun it out in a high cadence with occasional sessions of out
of the saddle. About 15 min into the climb a tri guy passed me just cranking
it. Dude had the whole magilla going – awesome carbon bike, shaved legs, great
pedal stroke. I didn’t even attempt to go with this guy. I was like, “ah, nope
I think I’m pretty comfy here and I have no idea how damn far I have to climb
like this. Have a good ride dude!” And on the good side of this story was the
fact that the dude only rode for another 15 min, took some shots at the
pull-off of a switchback, and then headed back down. So my little roadie ego
felt totally vindicated! Jude waited for me at about 6 miles in, and I did that
stretch at about 7 mph. What I had covered at that point was only half of the
really gnarly part of this thing, that according to a lady Jude was talking to
at the pull-off. Matter of fact this climb was so in your face that there was a
sign warning drivers not to use AC when doing the mt climb due to engine
overheating issues. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
I did another 64 oz of liquids, and I was just guzzling the stuff, and then
whipped out again for more. Now for the bad side…zero berm on this climb, and I
do mean zero. I felt like I was just a moving target for any dipshit who wasn’t
paying attention to the road, especially on these blind curves – which were at
nearly every switchback. I was even scared to get out of the saddle for fear of
being too high in the air and getting clipped by the rear view mirror of a
pick-up truck or camper. But I had to do the OTS stuff just to give my quad
muscles a break and work on the hammies a bit. After 3700 miles of cycling this
stretch was just wigging the hell out of me. Not the climbing aspect, I love to
climb, but having just no berm at all and having all these crazy weekenders out
there driving up and down the mt and just whizzing past me within inches
sometimes. It’s too bad to, because the sights and the scenery was just
wonderful, looking way the heck back down into the valley where Palm Springs
and Palm Desert are located. It was just to stressful to enjoy the climb. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Got
up the second section of the really steep, gnarly stuff to meet up with Jude
again and guzzled another 64 oz of liquids. Once past Pinyon Pines the road got
a bit straighter without the switchbacks, but it still continued to climb, all
the way to the jcn with Rt 371 and Santa Rosa Summit, at 4900 feet. So from
Indio, which is 14 feet below sea level, I’d climbed nearly 5K in 26 miles of
riding. That was a bloody grunt for sure, especially with all the weekend
traffic just flowing up and down that mt. And as for my preconceived notion of
enjoying the nice cool mt air up there…NOT. It was still semi-arid and hot. Now
not nearly as hot as it was down in Indio, but it was still a solid 85+
degrees. And the trees were not all that big up there. Hell, there was still
cactus and desert vegetation up there at 4900 feet. Made the turn onto Rt 371
and began descending like a bandit. And I was thinking to myself that I was not
too into descending because that could just mean that I’d be right back to
climbing again to regain all the elevation. But that descent knocked off a
solid 1K of elevation and took me into the town of Anza.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
again, so much for my notion of a nice, cool mt environment. Nope, this was
semi-arid and hot, about 90 degrees. Met Jude at a DQ and did another 64 oz of
liquids. Thank God I had the foresight to really buy a lot of Gatorade and
stock a lot of ice water bottles for today. I hadn’t figured on that kind of
heat today at all. By then my thoughts of maybe making it all the way to the
coast today, that was burst like a soap bubble. No bloody way was I going to
make it much further based on the climbing and the heat. So the ride on Rt 371
was on yet another totally bermless road – a good road mind you, but no berm
and a ton of weekend traffic. I’d figured out by this time that this is a prime
cut-over route for people coming from San Diego and LA to get to Palm Springs
and the desert valley area. They get on I-15 and then take 79 to 371 to 74 and
into the valley. Most people were coming back from their weekend in the valley
and heading to I-15. I was the little bunny rabbit on the road that everyone
was trying not to hit in their mad rush to get home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Most
of 371 was a descent, and that 20-mile section went pretty fast. At the bottom
of 371 and the jcn of 79 I did yet another 64 oz of water – and I’d only pee’d
once up to that point! And hit it on Rt 79, hoping against all hopes that I’d
have berm. NOPE. Again, not but this sliver of 6 inches of berm to speak of,
and the traffic was just like rush hour, with lines and lines of vehicles
passing me. At least there was a rumble strip in the center so I could hear
them coming at me. It was totally nerve wracking, really, and I’m not one who
gets rattled much by traffic. These SoCal people drive like they’re race car
drivers for God’s sake. I mean they’re flying around blind turns, passing on
dbl yellows, and just screaming up and down the rollers. That up and down,
rolling section of Rt 79 just put me in a survival mode – and a religious one I
might add – to try to get the hell off of that road asap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In
this whole trip that was the most nerve racking day of riding I’ve had. Made it
into the city of Temecula and it was as if I was arriving at the height of rush
hour. The place was a mad house right on the edge of I-15. Crazy place. Jude
had gone ahead of me and got so tied up in the traffic that I had to wait about
15 min for her to make it back to me. I was never so happy as when I loaded
that bike and the van and escaped all that traffic. What a mad house indeed. We
got a motel asap and then went straight to eat, finding an Indian restaurant
that was offering a Sunday buffet – it was jut super. Got some beer – WAY more
than I need but after today I just may tap into the reserves! The temp here is
87 degrees, which is a far sight from the 111 back in Indio yesterday. I’ll
take it. Did the motel pool for a half hour and here we sit watching the
Olympics. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tomorrow
I’ll finish in Oceanside or Carlsbad, whichever is the Least trafficked route!
I think we only have about 30-45 miles to go to the coast. Then it’s time to
kick back and celebrate. So that’s it for today…..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-82141476118677461202012-07-28T14:55:00.000-07:002012-07-28T15:22:45.978-07:00My C-note in the Mohave<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b>Saturday,
July 28. Blythe, CA to Indio, CA. 103 miles of riding in 6:38 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Now getting
up at 3 and 4 in the morning is really starting to wear me down, and the only
thing good about getting up super early this morning was that it would be THE
last morning that I get up that bloody early, because I was determined to make
it to Indio and just about out of the Mohave Desert today. So up at 3:45, and
let me tell you we’ve been hitting the hay at 8 and 9 PM lately, to go through
the pre-ride ritual…making coffee, filling ice chests, loading the van, eating
breakfast, putting the nearly rotten, foul, disgusting kit on, and briefing
Judy on the route and destination. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">About that kit…I have this tradition now of wearing the same
kit day in and day out when I do these X country trips. Now I do wash the stuff
every day after I ride – almost always – but the stuff just breaks down from
the long days in the saddle and all the sweat day after day – and then drying
in the hot sun day after day. And I do this purposely because I don’t want to
ruin my good riding gear. I usually use stuff that’s been around the block a
bit and stuff that I’m just going to destroy anyway. I like to save my super
good shorts and bibs for rides that are far shorter, and less wearing. So
anyway, the kit I’ve been wearing from day 1 is just…well, the stuff has gone
to hell big time. I dbl short, and the under shorts the chamois is ready to
fall out. I mean literally it’s got about 3 areas on it that holds the chamois
in place. The semi detached chamois just flaps in the wind when I’m air-drying
it. Now the outer short, bib short, is now looking more like a pair of nylons.
The material has just deteriorated to the point to where you can see my ass
cheeks if it weren’t for the fact that I dbl short. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">So those are the shorts. My jersey, it’s just a total misfit
now. I like my jerseys nice and tight, for better aerodynamics, and this jersey
stated out that way on day 1. But now, after being worn like 57 straight days,
it’s about 3 sizes too big. Like today, I was riding west in the morning and I
could see my shadow right up in front of me, and I looked like a bloody
Teletubby on a bike. I have the pockets full with my phone, my camera, tube,
tire irons and pump, so with the jersey so loose and flappy now, my shadow
looked like a pear shape. And the first thing I though of was that it looked
like the shadow of a damned Teletubby. Anyway, so is the story of my kit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Got on the road at 5:25 AM and rode a parallel road to I-10
about 10 miles out of town to the west so I wouldn’t get hassled riding on I-10
within the city of Blythe. The way it goes here in CA, so I found out, is that
if there is no sign prohibiting bicycles on the freeway, you can enter on the
entry ramp. But you will only find this to be the case when you are outside of
city limits. Within city limits you must use parallel roads. And when you’re on
the freeway and entering a city there will be a sign telling cyclists to exit
the freeway. Pretty simple, and I shouldn’t have wasted an hour yesterday
afternoon making all those phone calls. I mean some of the people I’d talked to
just didn’t have a clue. This one chick who works for CALTRAN told me there was
no way I could ride on a freeway, and then an officer from the CHP told me I
could ride on freeways outside of city limits. So there’s still some grey areas
when doing this. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Once on the freeway I felt a light headwind… and the road
seemingly climbing ever so subtly. With a potential of a 100-mile ride staring
me in the face those two factors were not what I was hoping for. What I did
have in my favor was the morning temp – 75 degrees – which was a far sight
cooler than the previous two days. Just decided not to really push too hard and
take what I could get with a higher cadence spin. So I kept the pedals moving a
bit faster rather than mashing and was about to maintain about 13-14 mph. The
berm, as usual, varied between great, good, moderate, poor, and total, complete
shit. And each of those would last anywhere from 2-6 miles at a crack. I mean
there would be times where I’d just be singing and in a great mood where the
pavement was like glass, and then in 5 miles it turns into this crap with
bubbled up heat cracks with grass growing in the seams, so bumpy that you feel
like you’re getting a rectal exam from a blind proctologist! It’s just ever
changing and sometimes maddening. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Jude came through when I had about 2:15 hrs of riding in.
She just kind of pulled way, way over on the berm and put the flashers on while
I did a quick sandwich, coke and ice water. I think I was in and out in about 8
min. Then back to the headwind and the false flat climb. I mean that freaking
climbing just never ended and I was wondering if that would be the case the
whole damned day. I don’t know what the deal was, but for some reason, maybe my
gaining a bit of elevation, maybe a change in the weather pattern, I don’t know
what, but today was not as hot as it had gotten on the two previous days. The
terrain was like this endless, flat sand plains dotted with these scrub trees.
On my right and left were mountains, and these mountains were just totally
devoid of trees. There were stark, barren and hot looking – just a total
no-man’s land. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Met Jude at the second support stop at a place called
Chiriaco Summit. And when I saw the sign for that one I knew that I wasn’t
imagining things – I was indeed climbing, ever so gradually. You can just feel
it despite the headwind. I mean there’s times when you want to check your
brakes to make sure that a brake shoe isn’t rubbing. It’s a very detectable
feeling. So got to the Summit – which really isn’t a summit or pass – and this
place is just nothing on a map. There’s like a gas station and 10-12 house
trailers and that’s it. So got another half gallon of liquids in my system – Gatorade
and water – and got rolling again, hoping that having reached the summit I’d
have this great descent. Well, I did descend for about 10 min and then it felt
as though I was right back to climbing a false flat again. And the freaking
wind was much stiffer once I got over the so-called summit. Seems that the
headwind always picked up out in the desert when you hit the higher points. Now
once I’d left that support stop I definitely felt the heat kicking up a notch
or two – that telltale “walking into a furnace” feeling when getting out of the
van and back onto the bike. Yup, I was still in the Mohave! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Decided to go another 20 miles without support so I could
just keep a rhythm and stay on the bike and pile up the miles before the heat
cranked up, so we decided to shoot for a rest stop where Jude could feel
comfortable pulling in and parking. There were times where the road seemed to
flatten out, and then it would just ramp up gradually again and again. What the
hell happened to my descent? That section was a slow one due to the climbing
and the headwind and those 20 miles seemed like forever in the desert. The nice
thing about riding on I-10 is that it has no mile markers. And that to me is
great. Nothing worse than seeing mile markers each and every mile when you have
a big chunk of miles to do. So here on Eastern I-10, the only time you see mile
markers is at the exits. That helped me out immensely psychologically. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Made that support stop at the rest area and Jude was kind of
expecting me to load the bike and call it a day at that point. But I really
wanted to get this whole thing wrapped up and ride all the way to our hotel in
Indio. Just didn’t want to deal with having Judy get up, drive me back to the
east so I could ride west. Nope, I need to get this thing in the bag. So with
Indio just about 10-20 miles down the road – no signs for mileage available - I
suggest that she drive about 10 miles ahead and we’d see how I felt and where
we were. Now I knew that if I got that 10 miles in I’d just do the whole damned
thing. And not more than a mile down the road west of the rest stop, I see this
sign of a truck going down a steep hill and below it was the words: “the next
10 miles”. I had it!! That was my descent. Damn that felt good to see that sign
cuz my legs were getting pretty whipped. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">The descent was just amazing, stair stepping down and down,
and down. And with every several hundred feet of descent I could feel the temp
getting hotter and hotter. About half way down I could see the valley floor
where Indio and Palm Springs are located. The valley floor was green from all
the palm trees. Man, compared to the places we’d been to in the last two days
this place looked massive and expansive. That descent lasted for about 15-25
min, and by the time I reached the valley floor I had only 4 miles to Indio.
Kept it rolling on I-10 for another 2 miles until I saw the sign that warned
bicycles to exit the freeway. So I got, met up with Jude and then we used Rt 89
– Indio Blvd to ride the last two miles into Indio and our hotel. Final
tally…103 miles – my first C-note of the trip. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Tomorrow I get the hay out of the desert and go
into the mts. I’m sure that if I wanted to do a gonzo day I could make the
ocean, but I’ve no idea what kind of climbing is in store for me, so I’ll be
happy to spit it up and try for finishing on Monday. Well, time to get some
other work done and then relax. Late……..Pete</span>Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-76234837291523131412012-07-27T15:02:00.000-07:002012-07-27T15:02:11.097-07:00Mohave Desert + headwind = sufferfest on a bike
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Friday,
July 27. Lake Havasu City, AZ to Blythe, CA. 85 miles of riding in 5:57 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Another
early call to get prepped and get the heck out there to beat the heat. Was up
super early at 3:30 AM to get the van packed. I wanted to be on the road at
5:30 AM so I guess I was a bit anxious. Yesterday really kicked my butt, and I
really mean that. I was just lethargic the rest of the day yesterday having
ridden in that heat for 5+ hrs, so today I just wanted to get in as much
mileage as I could before the heat just went off the charts. Forecast was for
another day in the 110-115 range. That definitely gets your attention!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jude’s
been quite a good sport with me getting up at such ungodly hours, and today
took the cake, with me mulling around before 4 AM. So I got everything ready
for her to take off, and then git the road at around 5:20, with the light just
being about the bare minimum of what I needed to start. Jude stayed to do a
workout and run and do the breakfast buffet at the hotel. My ride out of Lake
Havasu City was a pretty significant climb right from the start, and it lasted
almost 40 min. With the starting temp at 90 degrees, and with it being so
early, and with me not being at all warmed up, and with my legs feeling like
they’ve been pulverized by 3500 miles of non-stop riding, I dropped it into the
middle ring and just spun. No time to be a hero at 5:30 AM! And that damned
gradual just went and went and went. I had sweat dripping down the bridge of my
nose not more than 10 min into the ride. Couple that with a freaking 10+ mph
headwind and my only though was “this is going to be a real challenging day.”
Nothing like riding through the Mohave Desert…doing climbs…against a headwind. Nice
combo hah? And I had 80-100 miles to cover today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
I knew just by looking at the AZ Gazetteer that this Rt 95 to Parker was going
to be a real piece of riding – challenging riding, so I wasn’t too surprised to
have the road undulating all the hell over the place. Finally made it up that
false flat climb and got the big ring going as the road took me east of Lake
Havasu and the Colorado River. There were several state parks along the way as
I rode south. Things got really scenic as I re-entered the Colorado River basin
at the Castle Rock Shores Resort area. The sights were just amazing with all
the gorgeous blue water of the river and the green plant life contrasted
against the desert backdrop. Palm trees hugged the river and lake and there
were several houses that looked like they were out of Malibu, with amazing
architecture and crazy trees and greenery surrounding the places. The water
bill has to be off the charts. There were a good deal of camping areas right
along the Colorado, and damn did that water look inviting. By then I was in
full sweat mode with salt stains already ringing my torso and jersey’s arm
sleeves. Salt was also crystallized on my forearms and neck. And hell, that was
with just 2 hrs of riding!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Once
past Parker Dam, the dam that makes Lake Havasu, I was just riding along the
Colorado, with the road just undulating up and down for miles. This was pretty
awesome along here, with the river being like several hundred feet wide, and
this beautiful azure blue color. It looked soooooooo inviting. Somewhere around
here Jude has pasted me and I shouted out to meet me in the city of Parker. We
passed this golf course that had cart paths that went under Rt 95, where you’d
see these almost florescent green fairways standing out against the barren
granite mountains. They were just spectacular to look at, and I had a hard time
holding my line on the berm as I rode past all these sights. This all came to
an end right around the point where Rt 95 entered the Colorado River Indian
Reservation and the city of Parker. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
this Indian Reservation looked a far sight nicer than what we experienced in
Tuba City. Had the reservation sign not been there I’d never had known that we
were in reservation land. It was quite modern, clean, and very up-tempo. I’m
sure having all the opulence of the wealthy river communities so close, and the
access of the Colorado River available for recreation as well as agriculture,
is the reason for this reservation’s success compared to the others that just
exist in the middle of nowhere. Did my first support stop in Parker and I just
nailed a quart of ice water and a quart of ice Gatorade. I mean I just guzzled
them down without taking a breath. And this was after I’d already gone through
a bottle on the bike. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
as I was riding along on 95 I was thinking about trying to get a more direct
route to get to Blythe, CA. The intention was to go with 95 all the way to
Quartzite, AZ and I-10, but it just looked like it went east too much to go
west. So I looked at the AZ Gazetteer at the Parker stop and discovered that Rt
1 – Mohave Rd – would be much more direct. But I had no idea of the condition
of the road. Well, I decided to go for it, and right as we got rolling I saw a
couple police officers in a parking lot. So I stopped and asked the guys about
Rt 1 to Blythe. They told me it was flat , had a good berm and went through all
agricultural country. That was it. Done! So off we headed to Rt 1 south through
the heart of the Indian Reservation. By this time it was just stinking, bloody
ass hot. You could just feel the heat rising off the roadway. So we decided to
do 10 miles at a time support stops. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
road was indeed good, and the traffic was really low. But the headwind out of
the southwest was just getting stronger and stronger. Like I said before,
fighting a headwind in the Mohave desert = suffering on a bike. But I could
swear that I could feel these occasional gusts of cool air, and I’m assuming
that since this Rt 1 is right along the Colorado River, that the air moving across
the river is cooled down just a tad such that I could feel those nice little
cool spots every now and then. I’ll take anything. Second support stop was in
the town of Poston, and I guzzled another quart of ice water and a quart of
Gatorade. Stop number three, ten-twelve more miles down the road and I did a
sandwich and 2 more quarts of liquids. By stop number four I was running on
fumes, and I had to pop up to an easier gear. Prior to that I’d been rolling
against the headwind at about 15-16 mph. But man, it’s like as soon as I got
rolling again after stop four I just had no legs left. That right there, that
one gear up cost me about 2 mph, because I couldn’t do any better than 13 mph
from there onward. And I didn’t want to fight the headwind and just crush
myself with another hour of riding hanging over my head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Each
time that I got done with a support stop, got out of the van and got back on
the bike, it felt as though I was stepping into a blast furnace. My mantra was
“get done and relax in the AC, get done and relax in the AC.” So I just kept
pushing. My goal was making Blythe, but hell, you never know when you’re riding
in this kind of heat. So I had an out by trying to just get to the end of Rt 1
in Ehrenberg. At that fourth stop, the mileage sign said 5 miles, so I knew I’d
get to Ehrenberg, with the prospect of having Jude drive me back there tomorrow
morning to start. But really…I truly wanted to finish at the exit of our Day’s
Inn motel in Blythe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
just inside of Ehrenberg I saw that Jude had stopped, and I rode up to her and
she voiced concern about me riding through this little Indian town. She said
there were people just kind of mulling about on the road. Now this WAS a kind
of nasty little reservation town, but at that point I was finishing the bloody
ride, so I asked her to just drive on towards I-10. I made it though the town
with no problem. Then it was up onto the interstate and west to Blythe. So just
a mile down the road we hit an inspection station on the AZ/CA border. They
waved me on, while Jude had to answer just a few questions and then was sent
through. Problem was that, as I-10 began in CA, there was a sign that warned of
the prohibition of bicycles on the freeway – not what I’d read in my studying
of this route. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
stopped and asked a couple of officers at the inspection station about it. They
said I could go through – they have no jurisdiction on that – but that I may
want to check with the CHP (CA Highway Patrol) about a permit - More shit to
deal with this close to the end of the trip. So I rode onward. Finished the
ride at our motel’s exit and here I sit in the AC. That heat is just an ass
kicker. I feel totally drained having ate and drank as best I could today. This
kind of heat just sucks the life out of me. Heat has always been my nemesis and
this stretch of the trip is just confirming that in a big way. Like as I was
exiting the freeway to near the motel, my leg muscles were just quivering like
crazy. I was just minutes away from full blown cramping. Thankfully I was done
at that point. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Since
then I’ve been on the phone with the CA Highway Patrol, and the CALTRAN (CA
dept. of transportation) talking to folks about this mysterious permit to ride
on I-10. The best I can figure, and no one’s told me a definitive NO, is that I
have to ride parallels next to the freeway. If no parallel, then I can ride the
shoulder of the freeway. So that’s what I’ll do tomorrow. I’m hoping to make it
to, or close to Indio. And there’s a stretch there that’s a solid 60 miles of
zero parallel. Well, we’ll see. Currently the temp outside is 106. Time to
relax ……..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->
Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-35344742089675302932012-07-26T15:07:00.001-07:002012-07-26T15:07:50.174-07:00Heat and a whole new reality<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Thursday,
July 26. 20 miles east of Kingman, AZ to Lake Havasu City, AZ. 84 miles of
riding in 5:12 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Up at 4:30
AM, loaded the van, cranked up the coffee machine and had two peanut butter
sandwiches for breakfast. We were in the van and driving back to where I ended
yesterday by 5:15 AM and I was on the bike and back on I-40 at 5:45 AM. There
was a definite sense of urgency today, and for the next couple of days for that
matter, because of the heat in the dessert. I wanted to be done, finished, and
in the van before noon. Weather report for Lake Havasu City foretold of a high
of 108 today. So I had to get my ass in gear and ride asap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Jude
dropped me off and then went back to the hotel to do a workout and run while
I’d ride into Kingman to meet her at the hotel and then dive into the
complementary breakfast for a quick pitstop, and then hit the bike again and
continue riding. Now after doing 90+ yesterday the old legs, and I use that
term based on reality, were feeling a bit on the tired side. And what do I get
to start the day off with? Well, a 5 mile gradual climb of course! It just
plain hurt, and I had the chain in the big ring from yesterday, which really
hurt. For about 5 min I just had to drop the chain in the middle ring and warm
up. Once I felt a little life in those two dead stumps I popped it into the big
ring and got chugging. Wind was out of the southwest again, but what with it
being so early in the morning it was very light and not much of a factor. Nope,
the long gradual was the factor. Couldn’t do any more than like 12 mph for the
first 20 min of riding. The temp was just wonderful, about 70 degrees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Once
I topped out it was smooth sailing for a long ways, really damned near all the
way into Kingman. Riding in the dessert at this time is about the ONLY time to
ride in the dessert. You’ve got about 3 hrs from the time dawn breaks until the
sun really begins to crank on the heat. So I flew nearly all the rest of the
way into Kingman winding it out in the big cookie. About 3 miles outside of my
exit the berm turned into this crappy asphalt, where the asphalt was composed
of large chunks of rock. It resembled a conglomerate of large asphalt gravel
petrified on the road. Talk about bumpy – hell, the gravel roads of KS were
nicer than this piece of junk. Even with duel suspension I felt as though I was
getting a belt sander applied to my ass! Wow, I was never so happy when I saw
the exit for Rt 66. Jumped on 66 and rode back to the hotel to eat breakfast with
Jude. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Loaded
up on scrambled eggs, hash browns and sausage links, and I’m talking a full
plate of this junk, piled about 2 inches high. I consumed it all in about 7
minutes, and probably looked like I was auditioning for a competitive eating
contest. I mean the plastic fork was wilting from the speed with which I was
shoveling the food in my mouth. Jammed back out to the bike and got cranking
again while Jude did the shower thing back in the hotel. So I rode a stretch of
66 back to the interstate and then immediately did this descent down onto the
dessert floor where it was nearly as flat as a pancake. And this was my gig for
the next 40 miles of riding on I-40. The wind had picked up a bit and the heat
was definitely firing up big time. I just felt like I was beginning to ride in
an oven, and it was only like 8:30 AM. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My
berm was just fantastic, smooth, no cracks or crevices and no plants popping
through the pavement. So I could ride at a pretty good clip – 16-18 mph. Made
plans to meet Jude at this rest stop that was about 25-30 miles west of
Kingman, so I had a real good chunk of real-estate to cover before my hydration
stop. And I could just feel my mouth getting cottony dry, so many a time I
pressed my tongue down into the bottom of my mouth to kind of keep it wet. Now
I did drink from my water bottles, and by that time the water was more than
luke warm, it was hot! No worries though, when you’re thirsty and have no real
choices, water is water no mater what the temp. Made it to the rest area and by
that time it was freaking major hot. You could just feel the heat rising from
the pavement in the rest area. I downed a quart of ice water, a quart of
Powerade, and an ice cold coke. And I was off again trying to stay on my ride
plan of finishing before noon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How
people ride and run long distances in this kind of environment is beyond me.
And to go into the heat of the day, like noon through 5 PM, that’s just
mind-boggling. I mean it’s indescribable how bloody hot it is when you’re not
in an air-conditioned car cruising down the highway through the dessert. You’re
in this cocoon and oblivious to the outside world. And I was thinking about
that as I was riding along, watching the cars, trucks and RV’s zoom past me,
with all their creature comforts at their fingertips, oblivious to the temps
just climbing and climbing in the outside world. Now it wasn’t as if I was
envious of them, although when the headwind continued to pick up I did feel as
though the interiors of those vehicles look mighty inviting! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
our next support stop was at the jcn with Rt 95 south. Jude had parked at a big
truck stop and had everything opened up and ready for me. Downed another
Powerade, another water and I just kept rolling. I think it was about 10 AM by
this point and the temp was definitely in the 100’s, I mean it was smoking hot.
Got going on a nice berm on Rt 95, thankfully, and it turned out to be this
long, long, long, false flat for 6 miles – with the wind just blowing like hell
out of the southwest. By then the wind was beginning to feel warm at times, and
hot at other times. The landscape was just bleak and foreboding as hell with
the heat. I could only imagine hiking or backpacking in that kind of terrain
and with that kind of heat – total misery! The mts were devoid of vegetation
and there was zero in the way of streams or ponds or lakes or anything aqueous.
It was stark and appeared lifeless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally
topped out on this pseudo pass and began a ripping descent down to the Colorado
River and Lake Havasu, which I could see in the distance. And surprisingly I
felt pretty good, being able to get out of the saddle and mix it up a number of
times on the climb. Descended down to the river, which was still a good mile or
so off to my right, and met up with Jude for the final support stop. Downed one
more quart of water and quart of Powerade and rode on. Now it had appeared that
we were right on the cusp of being in the city of Lake Havasu, but that was
very much a mirage. We were on the outer limits of the city with all the strip
malls. The real center of town lay another 10 miles south. And those were 10
hotter than hell ten miles indeed. I’d go by banks where the time and temp
signs indicated it to be 105 degrees – at 11:10 AM! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Turns
out this place was founded in like 1964, so it’s really modern, and I’d venture
to guess that the median income here is on the high side – nothing but nice
homes and condos. Every third vehicle that went by me was dragging a boat, and
it reminded me of Glen Canyon with all that speed boat traffic. Got to the
hotel before noon as I’d hoped and there was Jude parked under this tree, the
name of which I don’t know. But it was shade! And that’s where I sit right now,
working here on the computer for several hours before we can check in at 3 PM.
Even after 2 hours we still have this nice piece of shade above the van. Now my
back is sweating like hell, and I’m toweling off occasionally as I work, but
it’s a far sight better than being in direct sun. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We’ll
shoot for Blythe, CA tomorrow and then I’ll pick up I-10. From there, we’ll use
directions from Judy’s friend to Glenys to get us the rest of the way to the
beach. That’s it for today………Pete<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Oh, BTW…it’s 112 degrees at 3 PM PST!!!!!!!!!!!</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-20068284423490478362012-07-25T15:52:00.003-07:002012-07-25T15:52:53.660-07:00From mountain to desert<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Wednesday,
July 25. Williams, AZ to 20 miles east of Kingman, AZ. 94 miles of riding in
6:01 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Man it just
rained like hell last evening. Complete white out in the town of Williams for a
good hr. That’s why we chose not to camp. Would have been some serious “van
time” again had we taken that route. Felt good to sit in our little motel room
on the second floor and look out into the monsoon as it engulfed the city. Must
have hit the hay at 9 PM, and I was out like a light. Got up at 4:30 AM and
worked for a bit. Jude hit Safeway at 6 AM for Starbucks dark roast coffee,
while I made up to peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast. Loaded van and was
dropped off at yesterday’s end point to get it rolling at 6:45 AM. There were
still some remnants of last evening’s storms, but nothing like yesterdays
miserable morning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
start temp was just about right, down in the low 60’s. Got rolling on good old
I-40 west and rolled into a gradual climb for about 5 miles right from the gun.
Now at this point on the interstate you’re still in the mts, in Kaibab National
Forest, and the sights and smells are just wonderful. When most people think of
AZ, they immediately think of desert and hot, but Northern AZ is quite a
contrast to that vision. It’s wonderful mts and trees and water. We’re talking
mts in the 6K and 7K range. Once I got over this little mini pass, it was a
real nice descent down to the city of Ash Fork. This was the first segment of
riding where I was actually leaving the mountains that stretch from Flag to Ash
Fork. By the time I got to Ash Fork the terrain had changed to a kind of
sub-alpine environment – much drier with the trees being considerably shorter
and less prevalent as in Kaibab Nat Forest. I just waved Judy on when I got to
Ash Fork, shooting for a support stop just short of Seligman. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Again,
more kind of long mt pass type of climbing where the climb was about a 3-5%
grade for a good 5-7 miles, and then you descend for way more than you gained,
so ever so gradually you’re loosing altitude. And all these climbs, though
there was no indication that I was going over passes, they felt just like going
over a pass. Got to our support stop and I waved Jude onward another 8 miles to
the exit for Seligman. I’m just in the mode now where I like to bust it out for
2.5-3 hrs before I stop for support. That way I feel as if I’m making nice big
chunks of miles prior to sitting my sore ass down in the van for 10-15 min to
eat and drink. And right now, I’m really trying to keep those stops as short as
possible so I can get further, faster, earlier. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
in Seligman by the time I stopped I had in about 42 miles. Got 2 sandwiches –
yes I’m still chowing down on bologna – with a coke chaser and a quart of ice
water. Kind of slammed it all down the old pie hole and got back on the bike
for another session. And not more than a couple miles back on I-40 west I hit
another one of those long gradual pass kind of climbs. This pup was a long one,
taking me up over the Juniper Mts. Again this was a big ring climb with in and
out of the saddle riding – nothing steep, but just long and continuous. Now at
times I have this amazing pristine berm, and then other times it’s just a total
piece of shit. It ebbs and flows, and usually it’s a bit worse on the climbing
where the guardrail takes a good chunk of berm and then all the truck tire
shreds are just everywhere from trucks flatting on the climbs. Thank God I have
those Armadillo tires on or I’d be picking wire out of the tires all day. Every
now and then the berm really goes to hell and it’s just riddled with cracks and
crevices and covered with broken up asphalt gravel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
I got up that climb out of Seligman and met Judy at nearly the top for another
support stop. Rode through that one and opted to do one another 13 miles down
the road, this time with a climb up over the Cottonwood Mts. I mean these
climbs were like every 12-15 miles apart. As soon as I had descended from Judy
I had that long climb Cottonwood climb. It’s like valley, mt, valley, mt on and
on for this stretch of I-40. Now at the top of that one, where there’s an exit
(and this was our strategy of going one to two exits at a time) I did stop and
gulp down an ice cold Powerade and quart of water. By this time we’d descended
a good deal and the temp was up. The terrain was way more desert like with
mostly scrubby trees and barren rocky mts. Cactus was now prevalent. Yup,
goodbye Northern Mts. Judy had mapped out three more segments where she’d drive
to each stop in case I needed fluids. The first segment was 9 miles, second was
8, and the third was 8. If I could keep the ball rolling that would put us
about 20 miles east of Kingman. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
wouldn’t you know it the wind really picked up out of the southwest and the
pseudo pass climbing continued. Like each one of those segments had a climb in
it. And each time I descended the heat got more intense and the altitude went
down. Suddenly I had gone from 7K to almost 4K. One of these sections, I think
the second, was just a total mess, where the berm had been graded down with an asphalt
grinder and left as is. It was just filled with those ripples and asphalt
gravel. Couple that with truck tire shreds and I was just feeling like I was
doing a slalom course in a mt bike where I was jumping and dodging crap left
and right. At the end of each segment, which coincided with an exit, Jude was
there for insurance. I just kept rolling, through the first, through the
second, and headed towards the third where I’d get to the 90-mile mark in the
day’s ride. Temp had gotten up to mid 90’s by then and the wind was just
getting crazy hard out of the southwest. That third segment was definitely the
last. I’d had a good day and was ready to exit the saddle. The heat and wind
pretty much sealed the deal there. Jude, the famous coupon cutter, had booked a
hotel for an amazing deal in Kingman, and I was totally ready to sit my ass
down in the AC and get some work done on the computer. So no aspirations today
of hitting a century ride.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What’s
more, with Judy running support for me, 6+ hrs in the van starting and stopping
is plenty. An early check-in would give her a chance to do a workout and relax
while I worked. So I finished at the Rt 93 jcn. Jude had pulled into this
gravel parking area so I stripped off the cycling kit and got into some shorts
and off we went to Kingman. She scored a Quality Inn with an outdoor pool and
all the accoutrements for 50 bucks. And here I sit finishing up with my work.
Jude got in her workout in the fitness room and we’re going to relax at the
pool. Tomorrow I just may go south on Rt 95 towards Lake Havasu along the
Colorado River to jcn with I-10 to San Diego. Each day we can kind of tweak the
route with a change, so today’s no different. I do know one thing: No way am I
taking I-40 into LA!! So we’re going south to jcn with I-10 somewhere, and it
could very well be on Rt 95. Late………..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-68542997019873251812012-07-24T18:08:00.003-07:002012-07-24T18:08:42.625-07:00Battling the monsoons of Northern AZ
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Tuesday,
July 24. 8 miles west of Grey Mountain, AZ to Williams, AZ. 68 miles of riding
in 4:32 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Woke up
this morning at 4:30 AM to some lightening and thunder. This monsoonal weather
thing out here is really serious. I mean I have been out here countless times
and this is a first for me to even consider rain. Usually you just wake up to
sunshine and it’s blue skies and sun all day long. But this thing, man it’s
crazy. So I worked for a bit and then walked over to a 24/7 gas station for
coffee. We stayed at this el cheapo motel and have no coffee maker or coffee. I
mean this place was budget all the way. Hell the wash towels looked like old
work rags – and I’m definitely not kidding! So anyway, got the coffee and we
packed and headed way the hell out of town about 30-some miles to the point to
where I stopped yesterday. By then it was raining and socked in like nobody’s
business. It was just white out once we were north of Flagstaff. Got to me
start point and it was raining like hell. The while out was so heavy that you
couldn’t’ even see the San Francisco Mt range in Flag. The cloud cover spanned
both horizon lines. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ended
up waiting there on the side of the road for nearly 2 hours. I worked on the
computer, called some clients, and watched ranchers herd a couple of stray
calves back into the rangeland and away from Rt 89. The monsoon finally broke
just shy of 9 AM. Got it rolling and had Jude go about 10 miles up the road
just in case the rain got rolling again. Now this would be about 20 mile of
solid gradual climbing up once I rode out of the Indian Reservation land. And
that was indeed the case as the climbing began about 2-3 miles north of the
Coconino National Forest. At that point I was at 6K in elevation. The terrain
changed almost within a mile, as I left the baron plains of the Reservation
lands and began climbing. Trees just started filling the landscape and what
with the rain, the smell of pine was pungent in the air. The heavy rains also
made it a bit humid once the sun actually popped out, and that to was pretty
new to me in AZ. All my prior experiences were in hot and dry. As it turned
out, that morning got to be moderately hot and humid. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>During
the biggest step up in that long climb, about 6% grade for 5-8 miles, I was
sweating pretty good, with sweat dripping off of my bar grips, running off my
nose, and trickling through my mustache and into my lips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rt 89 by that time was split into a
northbound dbl to triple lanes and a southbound dbl to triple lanes, so I had a
massive, expansive berm to climb on. It was just perfect. Did about 2/3 of the
climb in the big ring, but that last little pitch up to the 7K elevation sign I
had to shift into the middle cookie, and just do a long session of out of the
saddle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Once
I got up over the top the wind was coming out of the east and I was just able
to fly, doing about 20-25 mph just cranking it towards Flag. This stretch of
89, from the 7K sign into town is just great to ride on. You’re up in the mts,
with the beautiful San Francisco Peaks just towering above you. The smell of
pin is just permeating the air and everything smells fresh. Great place these
Northern mts of AZ. Made it into the middle of town at the jcn of I-40 to meet
Judy. She was parked in a little park area with trails. Downed my 2 sandwiches,
a coke and quart of ice water. The storms were forming again, with thunder and
lightening booming and banging away to the south. To the north was another
system that was grey and black and threatening with showers. We even watched
yet another system, this massive sheet of rain moving in just a few miles from
where we were parked. So I got it rolling asap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
I’ll most likely be riding on the berm of I-40 for most of the rest of the way
across AZ. There are several chances to exit and ride parallels, but today
especially, the dirt frontage roads that did happen to parallel I-40, they were
either flooded out or just awash in mud. No way I was going to slosh through
that crap with monsoonal rains chasing me along the way. The famous Rt 66 also
ebbs and flows off of I-40, but just in small pieces. So really, I-40 is the
only ticket for going west between Flagstaff and the CA line. If I get the
chance I’ll definitely get on some parallels here and there, but the majority
of the ride to CA will be on I-40. And honestly, time, money, and sore legs
pretty much have me trying to wrap this thing up in the next week. I’m pretty
smoked and just don’t want to make this last for another 3 weeks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What’s
more, riding on I-40 is WAY safer than riding on stretches of Rt 66, where
there is little to zero berm and a lot of busy traffic. This was the case in
Flagstaff. Rt 66 there is just a zoo of busy traffic. At least on the
interstate I have a whole lane all to myself. Well, got on the interstate, and
it’s still kind of a kick in the ass to get on an on-ramp and just ride down to
and on the interstate. It just feels so wrong, but it’s totally legal out here,
as long as you stay on this massive shoulder. So I got rolling on I-40 and just
started cranking. By that time all these storms were kind of converging into
one big solid black mass of storm clouds. I made it darned near out of the
environs of Flag when Judy went by and signaled to me. I just waved her on and
rode with all that I had, trying to stay one pedal stroke ahead of this storm
system. So I’m riding along and all of a sudden the mile markers are looking
totally goofy, like I’d entered on mile marker 202 and suddenly I’m seeing mile
marker 338. WTF? And then there’s Judy on an exit ramp yelling at me that I
missed the I-40 turnoff. I was riding south on I-17?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>How
the hell I missed that is beyond me. Probably because I had my head down just
hammering away trying to outride the storm. So I threw my bike in the van and
we went back to the jcn to I-40 west. By the time we got on the westbound the
rain began, gradually, and then like a torrent. Pulled off the interstate and
just parked the van in a gravel parking area to wait out the storm. This pup
was a doosie – with hail, lightening, thunder and rain by the bucket loads. We
must have waited there for an hour with the rain coming and going in waves. I
even got out and got going on the on ramp once only to be turned back by
another wave of rain. With a slight drizzle I was out of the van for a third
attempt to ride west and Judy yells out the window “come on, let’s get this
done!” And I countered with “shit, you get out here and ride in this!” I mean
the roads were just streams of water and the semis were blowing up these
massive mists of water as they flew by along the interstate. And still above us
was these steely grey clouds that just looked like they were going to unload
again at any minute. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But
she was right, I just had to get the ball rolling and salvage the day by
finishing the ride in Williams, about 30 more miles away. So I rode up the on
ramp and into the abyss – soaking wet berm with spray from trucks and SUV’s and
pick-ups just flying everywhere. I tried to ride on the last 1 foot of the berm
which was about the driest place on the whole freeway. Rode for about 10 min in
a light drizzle and with a wind picking up out of the east for a great
tailwind. Finally the rain stopped and I was just flying down the freeway berm,
doing 24-30 mph at times. On a bloody mt bike. It felt just fantastic. The
freeway rolled up and down with nothing really steep. Now there was a few
sections where the berm was just a pathetic mess of broken asphalt and asphalt
gravel. But I was still able to do a solid 20 mph, as if I was on a gravel road
for God’s sake. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With
about 7 miles to go I was riding right into yet another massive black storm.
This thing was thundering and lightening like hell, just a wall of black.
Thankfully the road curved a bit to the right and I was able to stay just to
the north of it without diving into the abyss. Did get sprinkled on a bit but
be darned if I didn’t make it though this thing without getting soaked. I was
totally amazed that I missed it. Met Judy at an off-ramp just outside of
Williams. Loaded the van and headed into town. Now this is a pretty cool place,
with a little section of old Rt 66 going right through the middle of town. Lots
of diners and drive-ins and the sights and sounds of the 60’s. Cool, nostalgic
place. We’re in a little dive motel again, but have a great location next to a
Safeway store and DQ. Time for a Cutthroat Porter!! Late……..Pete</span><!--EndFragment--> Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-52296651593520467782012-07-23T16:38:00.002-07:002012-07-23T16:39:58.927-07:00The Grand Chaos of Humanity Canyon<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b>Monday,
July 23. Tuba City, AZ to 8 miles west of Grey Mountain, AZ. 42 miles of riding
in 2:53 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">The short
day today what with our planned excursion to the Grand Canyon. So with that in
mind plus the fact that we were going to pick up an hour today going into PST,
I was a bit on the casual side today with respect to getting on the road. Got
rolling out of the decrepit little town of Tuba City at about 7 AM MST. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">The ride from Tuba to the jcn of Rt 89 was kind of downhill
and fast and through about 10 miles of desolation. Then the ride south on Rt 89
started out pretty good, with a nice tailwind and good road. But shortly
thereafter the road alternated from good, to moderate, to meager, to shit. It
would just change mile after mile. And all of the issues there were with
respect to the berm. In places it would virtually disappear. Then again in
places it was 4 feet wide and pristine asphalt. Again, the terrain was pretty
deserted and dismal with no really scenic beauty – but plenty of traffic. And
again, as I kind of touched on yesterday, the Hopi Indian Nation Reservation
here is a very impoverished place. So you’re just kind of riding past all these
small huts and trailers with junk all over the place. The big thing here, on
this stretch of Rt 89 between Flagstaff and Page is that you go by umpteen
little roadside stands where the Indians sell their wares of artwork and
curios. You go by mile after mile of these roadside stands. Some are quite
elaborate and others are mere hovels for stands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">My ride to Cameron was shot and sweet despite the crap
sections of Rt 89. But after a support stop with Judy there the ride got
brutally hard. I had descended down to cross the Little Colorado River in
Cameron. But then spent the next 8 miles climbing out of that little canyon.
The wind changed to a headwind and the road continued to go from great to
God-aweful. Man was that a grunt climbing into a headwind for those miles as
the road just continued to piss me off. There were times when there was just
zero berm and I was forced into the road with all the bloody trucks and cars
buzzing by at 70 mph. And sometimes, when there was berm, it was 2 feet wide
with a rumble strip down the middle so you had 6 inches of good berm to the
right and left of the strip. And that climb just went on for eternity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Topped out in the tiny Hopi town of Grey Mountain, another
decrepit little place with gift shops and curios stands and two gas stations
and an OOB hotel called the Anasazi Inn - very sad place indeed. Once back up
from the climb the road really never flattened out, but continued to false flat
upwards. And it made sense because I was at 5000 feet in ele. in Cameron, and
up to 6000 in Grey Mountain – and I’ve got another 1000 feet of ele. gain to
get to Flagstaff. Again, with respect to the terrain, it’s pretty boring, and
I’ve done this stretch a million times in previous years in a car coming and
going from Utah and the north and the Grand Canyon and Flagstaff to the south.
It’s just a non-stop flow of vacation traffic and 18-wheeler traffic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Finally called it quits for the day about 8 miles west of
Grey Mountain so we could load the bike and head back to the Grand Canyon. I
was VERY happy to see that van what with plodding uphill and fighting a head
wind. So much for a nice, easy short day in the saddle. I was beat from just 40
miles of riding. Got rolling to GC and as soon as we turned onto Rt 64 west you
kind of begin this climb up onto the Kaibab Plateau and gain elevation every so
gradually until you’re up in the pine forests and out of the desert desolation.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Got into the park and I took a turn at the wheel so Judy
could check out the park as we drove. Stopped at the two biggest tourist spots,
Desert View and the Grand Canyon Visitor’s Center’s Mather Point. With the
heavy cloud cover the heat was way down. And I’ve never really been in this
area when it was so cloudy. Usually, 9.9 out of 10 days this place is hot as
hell and clear blue skies in the summer. But with this monsoonal weather
pattern as of late, today was quite a contrast to the typical summer day. That
did make for some easy, and cooler hiking to the viewing areas. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">So really, our stop at the canyon was much like the movie
National Lampoon’s Vacation where Chevy Chase looks down into the canyon for 5
seconds and then herds the family back to the car. Only we stopped at two
places instead of just one. Now I’ve backpacked down into the canyon and to do
that it’s pretty much a multi-day to one week gig. So hiking to the Colorado is
the primo thing to do there. Just hiking down a few miles on the Bright Angle
or Kaibab trail does little to change the perspective of the place. So Jude was
very cool with just doing the Griswold thing and checking it out and then
hitting the road. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Today the place was just a beehive of activity. I mean it
was a mass of humanity from all over the world. Just lines and lines of people
at the railings checking out the view. And then all these people who never ride
a bike deciding to ride their bikes (probably for the first time in 20 years)
on this pedestrian walkway crammed solid with people along the canyon rim. It
was just insane. So honestly, it felt pretty good to “view and bolt” as we did.
We had camping reservations at the Mather Campground but we decided to just go
down to Flagstaff and chill there instead. We’d pick a day up and just keep the
ball rolling on to CA tomorrow. Back in Flag we hit this totally amazing Indian
(we’re talking Nepalese) restaurant for a buffet. The thing was just
spectacular. I mentioned to Judy how good it felt to be back in civilization
where we weren’t confined to some little hole in the wall place a gazillion
miles from anything. Flagstaff is a great city and a fun place to eat, drink,
hike, bike, and a whole lot more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">That’s going to do it for today. Short day, but
interesting day….Pete</span>Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-78238466107179501162012-07-22T14:38:00.000-07:002012-07-22T14:38:19.270-07:00The town lost in nowhere - Tuba City, AZ<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Sunday,
July 22. Kayenta AZ to Tuba City, AZ. 72 miles of riding in 4:51 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Man, I’ll
tell ya, the monsoonal rains yesterday afternoon and evening were just intense.
Now it didn’t rain in Kayenta but for a short sprinkle, but all around us to
the east and west the skies were dark grey or black and you could see and hear
the thunder and lightening. Matter of fact when we got up in the morning there
was still some cloud remnants to the east. So it’s really the same weather
pattern every day – cool in the morning with clear skies and then the clouds
and heat build up over the day until around noon and then it’s anyone’s guess
when the rain storms begin. So I skipped the motel’s breakfast in the morning
so I could get a jump on the day’s ride. All you need is a late start, a
headwind, and lot’s of climbing and all of a suddenly a little 72-mile ride can
turn into a 7 hour affair. And that would take me right into the heat of the
day and the potential for rain storms. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Slept
late today – getting up at 6 AM – so we really pushed to get me out the door
before 7 AM. Got going into a cool morning with a very light headwind. The
eastern horizon was still a bit clouded up from the storming yesterday
afternoon and evening, so having those clouds up there blocked the sun out for
a good hr of riding. First 18 miles were through in the Longhouse Valley Canyon
and up across Marsh Pass, so the speed was way slower than yesterday, but the
scenery was pretty sweet. Somewhere around 10 miles into the ride Judy pulled
up to me and I shouted out to go another 20 miles down Rt 160. And with that I
climbed for a good bit, made it over the pass and then began to just fly down
the road on a long section along the Klethla Valley. I mean within the minute I
crested that pass the wind had changed to a tailwind and the grade of the road
tended to be flat or a false descent. The topography also changed for the
canyonland terrain to kind of semi-arid flat desert terrain. So when I got to
Judy, round about 28 miles in I was just smoking down the highway, and I waved
to her and shouted that I’d go another 15 miles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
fast cruising couninued through the barren desert landscape for another 10
miles until I got to what seemed to be another valley, the Red Lake Valley,
where all of a sudden the wind shifted to a headwind and the road’s grade began
to turn into a long false flat. I went from like 20 mph to really working and
fighting to maintain 14 mph. It’s crazy how suddenly something changes on rides
like this. That’s why I try not to get too caught up in the moment if the ride
is going like shit or going like a gangbuster – it can always change on you in
an instant!! Today was a perfect example of that: where my start was just tough
and slow with lots of climbing and a headwind; going to flat and fast with a
tailwind; going to gradual climbing and a headwind. Rarely does a day remain
the same for the whole day’s ride. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
we went from Navajo Indian Reservation to Hopi Indian Reservation on this ride,
and I could definitely tell the difference again as I could the difference
between the NM Navajo and the AZ Navajo. As soon as I began riding on Hopi
territory you could just tell that things were different – housing a bit more
disheveled, and way more garbage and junk along the roadside. Gone to are all
the mesas and monuments that were pretty prevalent along much of the eastern
section of Rt 160. From the Hopi Reservation/Navajo Reservation boundary west
it was more of just flat and monotonous. Could feel the heat building though,
at just 11 AM. I caught up to Jude around Cow Springs for the second and final
support stop of the day. Gulped down a Powerade and a quart of icewater and
then checked my phone for mail. According to my phone, and much to my surprise
I found out that we had picked up an hour and were on PST. But actually that
was for Cameron, AZ, which is about 40 miles away to the southwest. So in
reality we were still on MST in and around Tuba City, AZ, though my phone says
otherwise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Anyway,
Jude headed into Tuba City and I did the last 15-mile stretch into town on my
own. This last stretch seemed to be the most challenging of the day. I mean
essentially it was flat, but that damned wind out of the west was continuing to
get stronger and stronger. And the traffic – Jesus where did all the traffic
come from on a Sunday morning? I mean it was like the interstate for God’s
sake. I think everyone and his brother was coming or going to Page, AZ and Lake
Powell. The exit for Page is east of Tuba City by about 20-30 miles, and the
road was just loaded with traffic. It still is now as I sit here in the Denny’s
parking lot right next to Rt 160. It’s just a non-stop flow or traffic. So this
last stretch was just a bitch of an hour of riding. But I made it into town in
under an hour. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
Tuba City isn’t anything to write home about. Matter of fact it’s kind of a
dumpy place if you go north or south off of Rt 160. We’re staying in this
little dive called Dine’s Inn Motel. The other three places here are just totally
off the wall with their prices, and I’m talking nearly 200 bucks. We did some
shopping in the local grocery and then hit the chinese buffet. Judy was not too
keen on the idea, but was quite good about letting me do a buffet. This was far
from a home run buffet, matter of fact it was more of a single than anything –
not quite a strike out, but close. The food was just kind of ok. So now, around
2:40 MST we’re sitting in a Denny’s parking lot waiting for someone to open up
or motel???? It had a sign in the window that said: be back at 3 PM. Can’t wait
to see what we’re in for here in the good old town of Tuba City. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Well,
I decided not to post this until we get into our motel room. And it’s not much
for 80 bucks, and believe you me in the towns of Tuba City and Kayenta the
picks are meager and the prices are crazy. It’s the old business tenent
concerning a captive audience. So if you have big bucks and don’t care about
throwing money down the toilet, hell, you can spend a couple hundred bucks in
either of these two places on a room. There are only 4 motels/hotels in each
town, and 3 of the 4 in each place is just ridiculous price wise. There are no
campgrounds in either of these towns, so we lucked out in each place by getting
a room reserved in the cheapie places. With all that being said, and the temp
here in Tuba City already at 94 degrees and the monsoonal clouds building up
heavy as I’m sitting here typing…I feel privileged that we have a room here for
80 bucks…gulp, gulp, gulp! Wow, I really said that? Anyway, that’s just the way
it is. I’m just not into driving way the hell out of town to an RV campground
or a park campground with no shade and the potential for torrential rains every
eveing. So we bite the bullet…and hello Dine’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Inn Motel!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We’re
about 80 miles from both the Grand Canyon<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>and Flagstaff. So the days of strategic ride distances and paying too
much for crap motels is just about over. Once back by I-40 life should get a
bit easier and the choices much better. Period. I figure I’m 7-9 days from
hitting the beaches of So Cal. Pacific here we come……….Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-63792592761010561252012-07-21T15:47:00.001-07:002012-07-21T15:48:48.064-07:00Cruising to the Grand Canyon<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b>Saturday,
July 21. Teec Nos Pos, AZ to Kayenta, AZ. 74 miles of riding in 4:57 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Man, it was
tough getting up this morning at 4:30 AM so we could make the 1 hr 15 min drive
back to my ending spot yesterday. I was pretty much operating in the
“robo-mode” making coffee and packing up the van. Managed to get on the road in
the van at 5:30 AM. Jude drove as I ate a couple bananas and a half sub while a
sipped the coffee. Now with the heat being a factor again, we really wanted to
make sure I got on the road by 7 AM at the latest. Anything after than and
you’re guaranteed to fry in the sun by noon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> The
drive through Farmington and Shiprock was definitely mellow at that time of the
morning so we made it back to my ending spot just a tad before 7 and I was off.
Tell ya what, my legs just felt deader than heck today when I first started. No
snap. No zip. No suppleness. They just felt tired and sore. Now this is my 50<sup>th</sup>
straight day of riding, and that jaunt through the Rockies, though that was a
VERY easy crossing of the Rockies, did put a hurt on me with 2 back to back 90
milers. Then add the headwinds and the rollers and that’s where my legs are
right now. Secretly I’ve been hoping that I could do this whole thing with no
rest days, and I think I’m like 10 days away from finishing, so I’m going to
keep it rolling. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Starting
temp this morning was around 63 degrees, and it felt just wonderful. Had no
wind to speak of in the beginning. The road, Rt 160 west was just fabulous in
the beginning – brand new asphalt with a berm about 6 feet wide. Quite a
contrast to the disheveled Rt 64 from Shiprock to the AZ border – that was a
freaking mess of a road. Hell, I could damned near call it gravel in places on
the berm – just a crumbly mess! So the AZ road was a joy to ride on, and I was
hoping that I could replicate yesterday’s ride of 70-some miles in under 5 hrs.
That would put me into kayenta before noon and the beginning of the heat of the
day out here. As the ride progressed I could see the landscape changing every
5-10 miles as it became more and more of the canyonland and monument type of
topography. Passed some really stunning mesas and monuments (a monument is like
a big rock tower kind of in isolation - very similar to the granddaddy of
towers – Shiprock). Also began to pass some really nice “Hogbacks” – massive
rock ridges of strata that have been uplifted by tectonic forces to positions
where the strata is piled up at a high angle – some at 45-degree angles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> The
other thing I noticed, and now we’re talking people not geomorphology, is that
the Navajos of AZ seem to be much better off than the Navajo of NM. The little
hamlets I passed here in AZ today were not hovels. Matter of fact in the town
of Red Mesa, the housing was really current with what looked to be a
development with brand spanking new houses, and they even had this amazing sports
complex for their high school teams. The difference between the two states is
really big. The Shiprock NM Navajo seemed to be one step better than what I’d
seen in places like Mexico and Russia, while the Navajo of this part of
Northern AZ weren’t a whole lot different that anywhere else out west. So what
I was kind of not looking forward to in this stretch of AZ turned out to be
just a nice scenic ride. No wigging out like through Shiprock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> I
made some pretty good time through this stretch despite what seemed to be this
neverending feeling of going up. Again, I asked Judy if she noticed it in the
van and she agreed. I’ll have to look it up, but it seems that I was just
riding up onto a plateau of some sort the further west we went. Rode about 42
miles before stopping for support, as I’ve really been feeling better about
being able to get more than half the day’s ride in before making a stop. That
way we’re not wasting too much time doing the picnicking thing. I call that ice
cream riding - where you stop every fifteen to twenty miles or so to eat and
drink and socialize. Heck, my stopping for support on this trip is way more
than what I did on my solo trips. On some of those solos I’d just eat a whole
Subway sub in the morning and have like 4 water bottles on board so I could do
the whole day without stopping. Anyway, I’m trying to keep the stops to a
minimum right now what with the heat and the distances. So I’d send just up the
road every 15 miles, and lately I’ve been waving her on at least two times before
I do my first stop. Like today, my ride time was just under 5 hours and the
total time was about 5:20 hrs. Git er done fast!! So my first support stop
today was around 42-44 miles in, and I slammed a coke, ice water and bologna
sandwich and was back on the bike withing 12 min. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">On a different not, due to the fact that I’m so snakebitten
with all the flats, today I was always kind of looking at my tires,
occasionally bouncing on the front and rear just to make sure I wasn’t
flatting. I mean it’s in my head now what with all the flats that I’ve had. And
I’m even carrying a spare tube and my pump and tire irons just in case. Just
sick and tired of calling Judy for a flat stop! I’ve flatted more on this trip
than in my three previous trips combined. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Passed
through the Navajo towns of Mexican Water and Dennehotsa, which were kind of
like little settlements out in the middle of no man’s land. These looked more
like ranching communities than the Reservation towns of NM. Did my second and
final support stop right outside of Dennehotsa where I downed a quart of
Powerade. From there I just asked Judy to drive into Kayenta and check out the
motel we found last night. I felt good about finishing the last 15 miles on my
own. That last stretch of the day, between Dennehotsa and Kayenta was were the
monuments and mesas really began to stand out – really classic monument and
mesa country. The last 5 miles into Kayenta was a bit of a false descent, so I
made some good time finishing it out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Kayenta,
is really way too small to be called a city. It’s more of a town, a kind of
oasis out in the middle of nowhere.
There’s probably 4 hotel/motes – several of which are just sickeningly
expensive – a Micky D’s, Burger King, Sonics, a very small strip mall of shops,
and several gas stations. Then there are a few stray businesses here and there
along with the housing. I mean this place is pretty small. Wouldn’t take more
than 3 min to ride from one end to the other on the main strip – Rt 160. Met
Judy at a gas station. Pulled in and she handed me this pint of Ben &
Jerry’s Chocolate chip ice cream. Damn was that a treat!! After than I chugged
a quart of ice water and we went to this little café to eat lunch, a place
called the Amigo Café. Again, we’re on the prowl for authentic Mexican food –
even in a Navajo village! Hats off to Judy for picking this one. It was just a
little place that seated maybe 15-20 people. We each got a Mexican dish, me the
beef and bean soft shell burrito and Judy the fried shell burrito. They were
both fantastic. Matter of fact their salsa and corn chips were so good that I
got a second cup of salsa just to pour on top of my burrito. Super duper lunch
for twenty bucks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Right
now I’m sitting here in a different hotel’s parking lot beside a little shade
tree catching up on my computer work until we can check into our motel at 3
PM. This hotel we’re kind of
“camping” at right now is the Kayenta Monument Valley Inn, and it has about the
only grouping of shade trees on the whole strip. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">The old monsoonal thing is going full force even out here in
Northern AZ, as the cloud are really building up now and we’re hear some
rumbles of thunder in the distance. With the cloud cover the temps are really
great out here, but take away the clouds and you just feel the sun beating down
on you as if you were in the middle of the Mojave desert. The contrast is that
dramatic. So with the clouds taking over right now the temp is way more
agreeable than when we first pulled the van in the lot to park by a little
shade tree. Just an hour ago the temp had to be mid 90’s in a blazing sun. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Well, that ought to do it for today. Tomorrow we’re
on to Tuba City for another 70-miler. Late……….Pete</span>Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-24679432281419524292012-07-20T14:53:00.000-07:002012-07-20T14:53:02.778-07:00More flats and into the Canyonlands<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Friday,
July 20. A few miles west of Blanco, NM to Teec Nos Pos, AZ. 76 miles of riding
in 4:51 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Easy day by
the last two day’s standards. But for the next several days I had to do these
“strategic” kinds of rides due to the unavailability of services between
places. I probably could have easily done a century today, but we had a coupon
for a $50 place in Farmington as opposed to zero camping and $250/night hotels
in the city of Kayenta, AZ – we opted to go for the AZ border and then drive back
to Farmington. I was blown away that all these hotels in Kayenta are charging
such inflated prices. But they’re the only game in town for 90 miles in each
direction. Nothing else out there other than having to drive north 20 miles and
camp in Monument Valley, UT. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">So with that in mind, tomorrow we’ll have to shoot for
Kayenta for the end of the ride and then drive north to camp up in UT. No way
in the world am I dishing out two-fifty for a bloody hotel room. So anyway,
such is the way it shall be for the next several days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Forgot
to mention yesterday that as soon as I finished my ride I loaded the bike into
the van and we hear this loud hissing noise – yep, a tire flatted on the spot.
Now if you remember, I’d bought 4 of these thorn resistant tires in Pueblo, CO
to ride with the burs and thorns and everything else, but I’ve been on all
pavement since. BUT, out of the four tubes three have now flatted on me – and
these are 10 dollar tubes! And what’s happening is the same thing with each and
every tube – the stem is pulling away from the tube. They are all failing at
the valve stem. Now the first one I thought may have been due to operator
error, but not three. I’m putting in 1 bar of air, seating them properly, no
stone unturned, but they’re still failing on me. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So now I’m back to
being in a tube shortage again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Got
on the road at 6:15 today so I could end early, what with a 1 hr drive back
east once I was to finish the ride. Rolled through Bloomfield in under a half
hour and then continued to Farmington. Now man, that gas and oil industry out
here, from Farmington east to Chama, is just hammering. Darned near every
vehicle that passed by me this morning was involved in the gas-oil biz. It was
reminiscent of my ride through ND two years ago. Good thing here was that all
the wells seemed to have been put in, so most all of the traffic is tankers
carrying the fuel somewhere to refine, and the maintenance workers who drive
from well to well each day in white pick-up trucks with flags on them. Matter
of fact I passed a massive Conoco-Phillips management center between
Bloomington and Farmington that must have had 3-500 of those white pick-up
trucks in the parking areas. The traffic between Farmington and Shiprock was
just horrible, even at 7 AM. For the first time in a long time I actually felt
a bit threatened while riding. The traffic was that bad. Between Bloomington
and Shiprock, it’s like a mini megalopolis of congestion. There was a ton of
road work and a ton of traffic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Farmington
is a pretty big place out here, and probably the main hub of everything between
Shiprock and Taos. So riding though this place was not a fun time, even like I
said early in the morning. Got through Farmington and gave Jude a call just to
check on her progress since she went back to the motel after dropping me off
and did a workout in the little fitness room. She eventually caught up to me
just before I entered Shiprock. I downed a coke and icewater and just kept the
ball rolling. Once in Shiprock we were in the Navajo Nation Reservation, and
wow did things change. This was probably one of the poorest areas I’ve seen on
the trip other than maybe in WV. Have to admit I was a bit wigged at some to
the poverty we saw going through the city. It was a total dump save for this
shopping mall area where Rt 64 jcn with RT 491. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>By
that point I’d been just humming along at about 16 mph, with a very slight
tailwind and a very flat stretch of Rt 64. But once through Shiprock (the city
is named for this massive outcropping of rock, called Shiprock, that rises 1500
feet above the plains. It’s the erosive remnant of the throat of a volcano and
can be seen from as far as 30 miles away towering over the landscape) the
riding took a turn for the harder, much harder. Seemed as though I was just doing
the endless false flat climb. Began passing dry washes and small canyons with
plenty of mesas on the horizon. The road just did a steady series of ramps up
higher and higher. Then I’d hit these small canyons where the road would
descend down to the bottom of the little canyon and then climb back out onto
the plains. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That
terrain slowed me a good deal for a good hour as I neared the AZ border. Now
Judy and I both took a wrong turn back in Shiprock, going straight on Rt 491
and totally missing the 64 turn sign, I only noticed it because all of a sudden
the sun was casting a shadow of me on my right side, indicating that I was
riding south. And I knew that 64 was straight all the way through Shiprock. So
I quickly turned around and found my mistake. As soon as I got righted I called
Judy to see if she did the same thing – and she did, but she’d driven about 5-6
miles down 491, so I was ahead of her heading to the AZ border. She caught back
up, I flagged her forward and continued, being only like 3 miles from the line.
And about 5 min after she went by I hear this massive hissing and my front tire
goes flat – another thorn resistant tube, and one I’d just put on last night
after yesterday’s flat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Have
to admit that I was so pissed that I damned near chucked the bike to the side
of the road. I was praying that I’d have cell service to call Jude, and luckily
I did. So back she came for yet another flat stop. I’ve been so snakebitten
that I’m now carrying an extra tube, tire irons and a hand pump even when Judy
is around with the van. I’ve never had such problems as I’m having now with
tubes and flats. So I put in my last tube – not one of those freaking thorn
resistant things – and rolled on into AZ and finally into this gas station stop
in the town of Teec Nos Pos. The desolation out in this area is pretty severe.
I mean there’s just nothing. To solo this on a bike you’d really need to plan
the stops strategically and carry just a ton of water. I feel pretty lucky to
have Judy and the van waiting for me every ten miles down the road. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">We flipped it in Teec Nos Pos and headed back to Farmington
for the night. I did find some tubes in a Walmart back in Farmington – these
cheesy things made by Bell that are super light and have this self-sealing gunk
in them. Believe you me, not my choice by a long shot, but those were the only
26x1.75 prestas in the place – at 9 bucks each. Then I got on the computer and
found an actual bike shop where I bought 4 Kenda presta tubes. So I’m back up
to 7 new tubes, one of which I’ll never again use for cycling but I’ll will use
it as a towchain – the thorn resistant tube. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Got
in our little motel and jamming on the AC and working on the computer. Now
tomorrow and the next day I may not have cell service for phone and computer,
so if you don’t see anything chances are that we had to drive up to UT and camp
on Saturday night and Sunday night. We’ll shoot for the Grand Canyon on Monday.
Temp is now about 96 degrees here in Farmington. That will be the case for the
next week I presume, so I’m going to try to start early and end early each day.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That’s
it……….Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-22628882918886531522012-07-19T16:37:00.001-07:002012-07-19T16:37:15.916-07:00Farewell to the mountains<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Thursday,
July 19. Chama, NM to a few miles west of Blanco, NM. 92 miles of riding in
5:55 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Quite a
contrast compared to yesterday. I feel pretty good having done just about the
same amount of miles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
missed my usual wake-up, ending up flying out of the bed to make coffee at 5:30
AM. Wanted to get another early start in order to make a long ride again today.
So we cranked through the usual eat-and-load-up-the-van deal and I was out the
door and on the bike at 6:30 on the button. Another cool morning where I was
wearing my long sleeved jersey – which just feels so good. I think the morning
temp was around 57-58 degrees. Perfect! Headed west on Rt 64 for the first
support stop in the town of Dulce. As yesterday, the road was pretty devoid of
traffic and the berm alternated from pretty nice at 3-4 feet wide to zero, zip,
zam, zowie. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Great morning to ride, with nary a cloud in the sky and a
wind just ever so slightly out of the northeast. With the spectacular sights
and sounds of Northwestern NM, this section just flew by, and I was making
awesome time…until a construction stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now I’ve been let through many a time at some of these construction
stops because I can just ride on the berm, but not at this one. Nope, had to
wait for the freaking pilot car to come back from the other side. So as I stood
there for 22 min – and I counted every bloody one of them – I chatted with the
gal who was flagging traffic. She was an Indian lady, Apache, who lived in
Dulce. She was asking me a ton of question about our trip, specifically me
cycling across the country. And I was pretty cool about answering everything
despite the fact that I was really getting a bit miffed about waiting so long.
I had a 90-100 mile ride staring me in the face today, and what with the monsoonal
weather pattern lately, I was getting impatient to keep the ball rolling. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">She even
kind of invited Judy and I to stay in town for a big Pow-Wow that is taking
place this weekend, actually starting today in the late afternoon. It actually
sounded like fun, but I told her we just had to keep the train rolling down the
road.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
the pilot car finally arrived, and then instead of getting our caravan of cars
and trucks moving, this chick gets out of the pick-up and proceeded to wipe off
all the windows of the truck, very nonchalantly really. And I’m like “honey,
some of us here have things to do today. How about getting us through this
shit!” Well, we rolled through about 3 miles of gravel road and dust, and I was
just bumming that I lost so much time on a long day’s ride. So I hooked up with
Judy in Dolce and told her to just keep going due to my loosing time on the
traffic stop. So she pulled out and got going to meet ten miles down the road.
And within a mile I feel the back tire getting mushy. SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTT.
I mean this thing was going fast, not even a chance to ride it out a bit. My
biggest fear was that we’d have zero cell service and I’d have to walk for a
bit until Judy realized that something was wrong. So I nervously got the phone
out, dialed Judy, and thankfully she answered. Now, we’re really out in the
middle of nowhere, so I was pretty surprised here. She headed back to meet me
while I pulled the rear wheel and hunted for the problem. Turned out to be this
2 inch piece of what looked like rusty fence wire. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
we got that changed and I just rolled on again, now having about 40 min of
downtime on the clock. I must of rode by Judy two more times, just telling her
I had to keep going to make up time. So each time she’d drive another ten miles
down the road. So the best that I can figure was that I was riding on a plateau
region. There were mts on all sides of me, but nothing really high, and believe
if or not I had crossed the Continental Divide back before Dolce and didn’t
even realize it. No big climb, no pass, no signs. Just rode over it with no
bells and whistles. This was definitely one of the reasons that I made such
good time today – no passes to climb over. Rode into and through the Jicarilla
Apache Indian Reservation right up to about the entrance to another section of
Carson National Forest before I did a support stop. So I had just about 50 in
up to the first real support. Did two sandwiches, an ice cold coke, ice water
and then slammed it again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>By
the time I got into the National forest I could really see a difference in the
terrain – it was becoming less mountainous and more resembling the canyonlands
& mesas you see in Southern UT and CO. Had to be riding somewhat of a false
descent because I was just able to crush the pedals most of the way. I’d do
these series of stair-step descents occasionally to where I’d get it rolling
pretty fast. And as I lost altitude I could feel the temp getting hotter and
hotter. The gal at the traffic stop had told me that I’d do no more passes,
just a couple of long hill climbs, and she was right. But more than anything I
was descending way more than climbing. Once through Carson Nat. Forest it was a
whole different world from what we’d been through in the last two day. This was
definitely Desert Southwest terrain and topography – and temperatures. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>About
the time we got through the Nat Forest I began to notice the telltale gas and
oil trucks and the gas and oil fields what with the wells and pumping stations.
Nearly all the traffic at that point was pick-up trucks that went from well to
well. They all had these long poles with flags mounted in the back bed of the
truck. Never had an issue with the guys and they all, from pick-up to tanker,
gave me plenty of room to ride. No bad attitudes. No pissed off people honking
the horn. This gas and oil thing was the story for the rest of the ride. Went
past several massive complexes that were mini gas-oil cities. About 12 miles
east of Blanco I did the second and final support stop. Hammered a Powerade and
a quart of ice water and got it rolling again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Did a series of long, long descents down the to Blanco where
the temp was just really cranking at high 80’s to low 90’s. This will now be my
fate for at least another 5 days of riding. Definitely in a different place
now. No more mts, they’re essentially gone for a good long bit. We’re in the
semi-arid lands now where the sun just beats down on you incessantly. Stopped
riding just west of Blanco and we headed to Bloomfield for a motel for the
night. And as usual the clouds were building up for another gully washer by the
1:15 time that I got off the bike. Ended up with a great ride of 90-some miles
in under 6 hours. Not too bad on a 26 in mountain bike!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Got
situated and then went next door for dinner. This looked like some kind of mom
and pop restaurant and I was really apprehensive about going there. But the
receptionist at the motel told us the place served great Southwester cuisine.
I’ve been raving to Judy that she has to try real Mexican food. She’d never
been a big fan of that kind of food, so I’m doing my best to show her that
Mexican food is not the Chi Chi shit we get back in Ohio. And we had a great,
really good meal! Even tried some stuff I’ve never heard of – these Mexican stuffed
meat pies with a green chili sauce over top – awesome! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Well,
that’s going to do it for today. Tomorrow I hope to make the AZ border………Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-47375229459846873292012-07-18T16:25:00.003-07:002012-07-18T16:25:57.375-07:00Never trust your cell phone apps<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Wednesday,
July 18. Taos NM to Chama, NM. 94 miles of riding in 7:03 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Just smoked
from the ride today!! Let’s digress to yesterday and catch back up to today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Judy
had a blast in Taos for sure. I did the walk-about with her in the late afternoon.
Now this is a pretty cool place from an outdooring standpoint, but in my
opinion it’s a grade-A tourist trap, just like Sedona, AZ and North Conway, NH.
I mean there’s just a gazillion art shops and gift shops and antique shops and
shops and shops and shops. The architecture is very cool and the general
setting of the city what with the mts surrounding it is also awesome. But make
no mistake, it’s a giant tourist trap. If you just go there and do the mt
biking or hiking or backpacking or whatever, it’s a great destination. So
anyway, we walked around the city checking the place out and it seemed that
every 4 out of 5 shops is involved with art of some sort. Enough already. On
the way back we stopped for dinner at a Mexican restaurant and had a pretty good
meal at a great price.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that
was pretty much our stop in Taos. No museums, no tours, that was it. And we
both are on that tract.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Got
up at 5 AM for another day in the saddle and was on the road at 6:30. Ok, so we
did another pow-wow on the route and decided to change it yet again. This, so
we can get Judy to the Grand Canyon. We’ve been to Flagstaff, AZ at least 3x
together, and each time she got vetoed on our group going to the Canyon. So I
definitely owe this one to her for all the bloody driving and supporting she’s
done for me. So I 86’d the idea of going south to Santa Fe, and then west along
I-40 looking for parallel gravel roads in leu of going all the way across NM on
Rt 64, past Shiprock and into far Northern AZ to ride down past the Grand Canyon.
Now the thing that kind got me thinking this way was when we ran into some
college kids who were riding from the Georgia coast to the California coast,
and they were telling us in Taos that they were heading all the way west on Rt
64 so they could go by the Grand Canyon. Got my trusty maps out and confirmed
that this would be a good way to catch the canyon. As far as hitting dirt or
gravel, chances are pretty slim. But had we gone the I-40 parallel route, that
would have been pieces parts of dirt and gravel. Worst part of that route –
paralleling the freeway – would have been negotiating around Santa Fe,
Albuquerque and Gallup, not to mention having to ride stretches on I-40 where
there were no roads at all. So I think we made a good choice on the fly here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Ok, Judy hung back in Taos to do a run and work while I put
20-30 miles in before our first support stop. Rode out of town on Rt 64 and
then to the northwest across the Rio Grande Canyon. Up here in Northern NM the
Rio Grande, though in this impressive little gorge, is a tiny river – no, more
of a big creek! Took some shots on the ped-walkway over the gorge and then rode
on. And this is where the day got tough, first with the road trending in a
northerly direction for 4-6 miles into a northerly headwind and up this false
flat onto a plateau. And then to add insult to injury, once the road trended
back in a northwesterly direction it was just this 15-mile series of false flat
rollers that kept stepping me up higher and higher ever so gradually. Now at
first glance it looks flat, but get on a bike and ride the pup – it is NOT
flat. A later asked Judy what it looked like from the car and she confirmed
that it rose up ever so slightly with each roller. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">By the time we did our first support stop in Tres Piedras at
about 32 miles in, I felt pretty wiped out from doing those false flats. But I
was cool with the fact that I had completed half the ride for the day – that
based on the mileage that I got off of my phone yesterday on the maps app. So I
downed a couple sandwiches, a coke and ice water and got the ball rolling
again, knowing that I’d soon be climbing across a small mt range. Couldn’t have
been more than like a half mile down the road where Rt 64 jcn with Rt 285 and
there was a mileage sign that said: Chama 62 miles. Damn!!!!! My heart sank. My
map app on the phone was a whopping 30 miles off target. I had nearly 2.5 hrs
in. I was pretty hurting and tire, and I still had 62 miles to make our
destination for the day. And really, there was nothing in between. That was
kind of a gut check. So within a few miles I got it in my head that I was going
to crank out nearly a century for the day, no matter how long, how I felt, how
the weather would go, I had to go 90+ miles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Hit my first small pass not too long thereafter. It was tame
by yesterday’s standards, but it was tough nonetheless due to my legs feeling
like cement from the previous two days of climbing and headwinds. Made it over
the top on onto this kind of high mountain plateau, which was fairly flat and
fast. I’d say at that point the altitude was a good 7K. This was a really fun
stretch with wide open mountain meadows surrounded by the higher mountains. At
that point I had entered Carson National Forest. So this plateau section was a
good 10 miles and I signaled Judy to just drive another 10 down due to the fact
that I had a lot of ground to cover today and didn’t want to doddle around too
much with stops. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">After that the plateau kind of stopped and turned back into
this major climb, stepping up and up and up for miles on end. And again, I
signaled Judy to drive another 10 miles, hoping that within that amount of
mileage that I’d hit the pass and then descend. But within 10 more miles it
still kept climbing, so I HAD to stop this time and reload on water and
Powerade. Made it super brief and got rolling again, but not more than 2 miles
down the road the weather just turned to shit, with rain and hail hammering
down harder and harder. Thankfully Judy had the foresight to NOT drive the full
10 miles, but instead keep an eye out on the weather. She came flying down the
road towards me not more than 5 minutes after the rain and hail started. I
quickly loaded the bike and hopped in as she pulled in a little gravel rest
area to wait it out. I was so freaking tired that I fell asleep 15 minutes in
the passenger seat with my helmet on. I mean I was just spent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Jude woke me up, telling me that the storm had passed, so
like a damn robot I remounted and continued the long series of climbs on this
ride up the pass. And then about 3 miles down the road the rain and hail
started yet again. And Jude to the rescue for the second time. Waited another
10 min for the cloud-burst to pass and then back on the road again. This time I
was able to actually finish the climb and begin the descent, which was a wild
9-mile ride down mt. This descent was a real treat where I was able to get into
the 30+ mph range. My hope was that I’d make up some time from all the climbing
that I’d done such that I could get the ride in at around 7-7.5 hrs of riding.
But be damned if the rain and hail didn’t start again as I finished the real
steep descending and then kind of hit a gradual descent that kept rolling to
the north. It was just this massive grey cloud that was sputtering at first and
then downpouring several min later. And for the third time Jude came racing
back towards me for shelter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">This happened one more time and I was getting pretty
frustrated in that I just wanted to get the damned ride over and down with.
Finally, I just got it going in the drizzle and rode it out of the rain cloud
after about 5 miles. Did the final northerly stretch of Rt 64 to Chama with
these massive black storms damned near surrounding me. I was just waiting for
this one off to the north, the same direction I was riding, to unload to kind
of nix me for the umpteenth time. But I made it to Chama without another
deluge. Tell you what, when I loaded that bike into the van I was running on
fumes. I had Judy get a motel, ANY motel so I could just relax. Camping was not
looking good what with all the storms around us. Got a little place in town and
here we sit. Matter of fact about not more than 15 min after unloading our gear
at the motel the heavens opened up for another deluge. There are severe
thunderstorm warnings in our area until 11 PM, so I’m pretty good with having a
motel room tonight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Well, I’m just too tired to type anymore, so I’ll
end it here….pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-90621069977287485412012-07-17T14:08:00.001-07:002012-07-17T14:08:59.910-07:00I'm going to climb me a mountain...or two<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Tuesday,
July 17. Cimarron, NM to Taos NM. 61 miles of riding in 4:25 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Have to say
that despite the pavement, today was just a stellar piece of riding. Our
campground last night was meager at best, and honestly, I don’t know what the
fascination is with the town of Cimarron. It’s just kind of a little “tweener”
kind of place that people stop at on they’re way to other places. The
campground was filled with full-timers – people who live there most of the
summer. And it’s really pretty boring around there to hang out all summer long.
Anyway, we were the only passer’s through for the evening. Started out that I
got a site with electricity, but then I came to find that the plugs were all
for 220, and the owners didn’t have a changeover plug for me to borrow. Next
gaff was the owner came out and asked us to repark because there was a change
one of the lifers would pull his truck in from the rear – our site area right
where our van was parked. So I moved the van into some dirt and off the
precious gravel. And finally I went to empty some trash and on the way back the
owner kind of chastised me for not emptying all the contents out of the bags
because the bears may get into the dumpster and drag bags a garbage out. In her
defense there were signs on the dumpster asking such, but shit, I was in a
hurry to dump garbage and didn’t even read the signs. I guess that was my bad,
but by that point I’d about had it with this place. And the final topper was
that our site was like right on top of Rt 64 – like 10 yards away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Judy
cooked some dinner and we sipped on beer and wine for a bit and then hit the
hay. Just nothing to do. I had no electricity so we had no music or computer.
Got in an incredible night’s sleep to say the least what with going to bed at 8
PM. Got up at 6, made coffee on the gas stove and I knocked down some cold
spaghetti and we got the hell out of there. Made it on the road at 7:30 – way
too late for my tastes for a starting time. Now I knew that I’d be climbing
today and do at least one pass. And the was definitely the case from the start
as Rt 64 just did this gradual climb out of Cimarron and up into Cimarron
Canyon. Within 20 min I was in the mts and surrounded by pine forest and rock
cliffs. As I said in the intro, despite the pavement this was just a stellar
climb on a bike. It wasn’t so steep that you’re killing yourself out of the
saddle just trying to keep the bike upright. It’s nice and gradual where I
could ride the middle ring comfortably at about 10-11 mph.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
I took this route to get us into some nicer country, despite the fact that I
was looking at zero opportunity to ride on gravel. The gravel route would have
been to stick with I-25 and ride on parallel frontage and country roads to the
jcn with I-40, and then do the same there. But I really thought about it and
wanted both Judy and I to enjoy some of the more famous places in NM, rather
than just bang it out next to the interstate. I figured that taking a
alternative route through Taos would be the ticket. And I was right – Judy
commented at our first support stop how Cimarron Canyon was the most scenic
thing we’d passed through yet on the trip. It’s just fantastic terrain and
scenery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
the climb up Cimarron Canyon was a solid 20 miles, where the road would just
kind of wind its way up and up and up. Came to one spot, the Palisades, where
vertical columns of rock rose some 3-400 feet off of the roadway. The final 2
miles of the climb really pitched up, to the point to where it was little
cookie time for me. This was a switchbacky section that really ramped up to
Cimarron Pass, some 7800 feet high. So my climb from Cimarron to the pass with
about 1600 feet of gain in round about 20 miles – not too awful bad a gradient!
Jude was at the top where I did an extended support stop. Grabbed an ice cold
coke, two sandwiches and some water. Also put on my long sleeved jersey and
Jude’s insulated long sleeve jersey for the descent down into the town of Eagle
Nest. Up there at the pass the temp was 61 degrees. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
descent was really short – about 2-3 miles -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and by the time I was at the so-called bottom I was still on
top of this massive plateau that was at an altitude of 7200 feet. Eagle Nest is
situated on the edge of this plateau. Stripped off the two jerseys and went
back to short sleeve for my ride along the plateau. Cool area, surrounded
completely by mts with a lake right next to the town of Eagle Nest. So the
plateau ride was a good 8-9 miles and then when 68 split off I could see that I
had another major climb coming – turned out to be Palo Flechldo Pass at 9100
feet. Now this pup was definitely way more challenging than climbing up
Cimarron Canyon. This guy was switchbacks every step of the way for 4 miles.
Now I did manage NOT to go little cookie on this guy and just mix in and out of
the saddle riding, where I’d go out of the saddle when the switchback got tight
and steep, and then go in the saddle when the road straightened out a bit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That
was a worker! Met Judy at the top of the pass and got one great support
surprise – fresh cut, nice and cold cantaloupe. Damn, ripped through that in no
time, then downed some ice water and prepared for the descent all the way down
to Taos. Put the insulated jersey back on and got it rolling for the 18 miles
down the mts. This guys was pretty mellow, and by that I mean that it wasn’t
this roller-coaster that just careened down like a witch. This was kind of like
a step-type descent, where you’d have some steepness and then it would flatten
out or even bump up just a tad. So the mph’s were on the low side – 18-24. The
descent, called Taos Canyon, was not near as spectacular as Cimarron Canyon.
Nice, but not close. So my picture taking kind of ended for that stretch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rolled
into Taos in just under an hour. Very nice place to shop for art! Judy is in
heaven and I’m just sitting here in the car working on the computer. I’m
definitely NOT a window shopper and never will be. We ended up getting a little
motel so we could check the town out this afternoon. I ended up getting here
Way faster than I had thought – like just over 4 hrs. So we have a nice long
day to enjoy the area. I’ve been raving to Judy about authentic Mexican food,
so we’re going to find a place around here that may fit the bill. </span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-25404455901838330062012-07-16T15:35:00.000-07:002012-07-16T15:37:16.730-07:00Here we go New Mexico<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b>Monday,
July 16. Trinidad, CO to Cimarron, NM. 63 miles of riding in 5:23 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Arial Bold'; font-size: 14pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Sipped on
some micro brews out of Ft. Collins last evening and this porter was just
fantastic. I chilled the heck out of them and Umm Paa!! We had a nice time in
Trinidad yesterday. But got to move on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Got in a breakfast buffet this morning and then hit the road
at 6:30 AM. Judy hung around and did a workout and run at the hotel for an hr
or two while I was riding. Now I should have known I was in for a rough going when
I saw the flag standing straight from the wind in the hotel parking lot. Just
didn’t really make me think anything other than Id have a headwind to deal with
today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Rode
out of the hotel area and onto a side road to either ride on adjacent gravel
roads or I-25. Problem I found immediately with the gravel side roads was that
they were really short lived. They would go for like a mile and then deadend to
where I’d have to climb over barbed wire fences to get back on I-25 to continue
south and then within several miles there would be another frontage gravel road
for a bit. It just wasn’t worth the effort. So it was I-25 for the remainder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> But
more than anything it was the headwind that was the killer. Yesterday was tame,
was mellow, was a walk in the park compared with today. The wind seemed to be
channeled through the mt pass and just hammering down though the valley where
the interstate was located. It was a virtual windtunnel out of the south. I was
climbing of course, and heading up for a good 14 miles to the top where Raton
Pass was located, but with the vicious headwind I was down to 4-7 mph the whole
time. It was just to strong that I would almost be blown backwards. What a
painful sight it was as I was one hour into the ride and I’d gone just over 6
miles. I’d told Judy that I may be in Raton, NM by the time she caught up to
me. What a joke that was . Hell, I’d be lucky to even make the top of the pass!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> The
scenery was spectacular as I painfully climbed mile after pathetic mile up
towards the pass with the wind just gusting so hard that the trees on the side
of the road looked like they were going to break in half. My only hope for the
day was that this was a channeling effect of the canyon and that once over the
pass I’d not have anywhere near the headwind on the south side that I was
experiencing on the north side. Been through it enough to know that sometimes
all it takes is to go over a pass and then it’s a totally different story. Now
if it was the same on the south side of the pass – Katy bar the Door…it was
going to be a super long day riding a luggage free bike at 6 mph for 8 hrs! An
hour passed. Then 1.5 in and finally there was a sign for the pass – three
miles ahead. That’s about the time Judy honked the horn while passing me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Now
prior to that I’d been riding in the middle ring for the whole climb, but those
last 3 miles were about the steepest of the 14, forcing me to go down to little
cookie territory for the remainder of the climb. After just over 2 hrs of climb
and fighting the windtunnel I topped out on Raton Pass. Man, I felt exhausted
from the effort. Kept it rolling because I knew that Judy would be on the side
somewhere waiting for me. And sure enough, she was just about 2 miles down on
the south side of the pass – where the wind had indeed died down significantly.
Now it was still blowing out of the south, but nowhere near as bad as on the
north side of the pass. I just stopped at the van and plopped my tired ass down
on the shotgun seat and vegged for several minutes. Knocked down a coke,
sandwich and icewater and relaxed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Funny
thing was that I wore my longsleeved jersey for the first time in the trip
today when I exited Trinidad where the morning temp was like 58 degrees. Felt
awesome save for the wind. So I continued to wear the jersey on the descent to
Raton, NM. Matter of fact once I jumped out of the van to continue on the
descent I was chilled big-time. My fingers were even cold. So I made up some
time on the descent to where my average creeped up to a whopping 8 mph. Rode
I-25 right through Raton and continued on south to our exit on Rt 64 for our
second support stop. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Made
64 in good time, gradually building that pathetic mph average back up from 7.
Grabbed a Powerade and on it was on 64 to the town of Cimarron. This was paved
with zero in the way of any frontage or parallel roads. But the good thing was
that it was damned near devoid of traffic and had a massive 8 foot wide berm.
So once through Raton we were kind of out of the mts and back out on the
plains, but tucked right up against the edge of the mts on my right hand side.
The temp was way cooler than the plains riding in CO and the wind was out of
the southwest. I could at least maintain a solid 12 mph, which was like riding
on the Starship Enterprise for God’s sake compared to my start this morning. So
I was totally good with the 34 mile ride up to Cimarron at 12 mph into a cross
headwind – anything but that freaking windtunnel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> So
I get to one of our two support stops on the ride to Cimarron and we sitting
there in the car when all of a sudden I hear this loud hissing noise. Now at
first I thought it was one of my van tires going flat, but then once I jumped
out I found it was my rear mt bike tire. I mean the air just gushed out within
several seconds and it was dead flat. Damn was I pissed. Just paid a hundred
sixty bucks for all the fancy no-flat stuff and the rear is flat in two rides.
Pulled the tire off and found that the stem of the tubs was leaking right where
the stem junctions with the actual tube. Now could have been operator error on
my part when I installed the tube, or it could have been a defective stem.
Don’t know. Go it fixed and was on the road within 10 min. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;"> Made
Cimarron in just under 5.5 hrs of riding, so I’d really made up some time once
I got over Raton Pass. Hell, back then I was contemplating an 8-hour day in the
saddle just to make the 63-mile ride to Cimarron if the wind had remained the
same all day. But damn was I tired. I fell asleep in the van as Judy was buying
some groceries at this little grocery in town. Those two days of battling the
wind really have taken some gas out of my tank. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">And I’d have to say that I’d rank that wind this morning
right up there with two other instances I’ve had with headwinds over the years.
The all time worst, and I tell people this all the time, was when I cycled
around Iceland and battled at 30-40 mph wind off the North Atlantic as I was
rounding the west side of the island. That headwind in Iceland was so intense
that I could only muster like 4-6 mph all day long. I was a physical and mental
wreck when the day was over. The second worst wind was during my trip across
the US when I battled a wind up in Montana for 68-70 miles all day long. That
was probably like a 20 mph headwind with gust up into the 30 mph range for very
short spells. But it was neverending, all day long. Today was pretty bad, but
it was short and sweet – still nowhere as bad as the Iceland wind. That’s the
Gold Medal Holder in my life for now and probably forever! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Now we are actually camping here in Cimarron. The temps is
pleasant at about 85 degrees with thunder boomers all over the place up in the
mts all around us. Thus far everything’s skirted around us so that Judy was
able to cook outside on the grill with no rainout. Amazing to pay 20 bucks
again to camp instead of 50-dollars plus for hotel/motel when the temps were
always in the 90’s and 100’s out each and every day. Think we calculated that
it had been about 3 weeks since we camped. The campground is nothing to crow
about, just this little place right on the side of Rt 64. But it works out ok
for us today for sure. So we’ll be bagging it on the early side for sure
tonight and then up early for the ride to Taos tomorrow – about 56-60 miles
through the mts. Again, probably zero gravel on this stretch, at least
according to my NM gazetteer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14pt;">Well, just about time to crack another Micro brew
from Ft. Collins. Funny, I had a friend email me about my lack of discussing
mirobrews as I had done on previous trips. And honestly I’d been so busy with
all this planning and support and finding routes that I got real lazy about
hunting microbrews. I’d usually just have Judy get me a lager of some while she
was shopping for groceries. And Jim made me think a bit about trying out new
micros. So yesterday while Jude was shopping I walked over to a beer store and
got some different stuff. Picked up 2 6’s of great Porters. Anyway, time to
crack a micro…and thanks Jim for getting me back on the “beer track.”
Late……………Pete</span>Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-42387642880326722902012-07-15T14:58:00.000-07:002012-07-15T14:58:01.282-07:00Hello Rockies<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Sunday,
July 15. Mile Marker 53 just south of Timpas, CO To Trinidad, CO. 62 miles of
riding in 5:04 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Four AM
came awfully early. Made coffee, packed the van and we were GONE! Did the 1.5 hr
drive back to where I left off yesterday. And I was greeted with a gnarly
headwind out of the southwest – exactly the direction I was riding. Funny what
a difference a day makes. I’d thought based on yesterday’s ride that I’d get
back there today and crank out that 62 miles in under 4 hours. Stupid of me to
have forgotten the one truism of long distance cycling: Always expect the
unexpected. The wind shifted nearly 180 degrees and I was in deep doo doo for
the day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Hell,
we could see the weeds on the side of the road being blown horizontal as we
drove the final 6 miles to my starting spot. And when I got out and got on the
bike, it was just night and day between yesterday and today. This was a wind
that is just in your head from the get-go, and what I mean by in your head,
it’s literally blowing so hard that you need ear plugs in your ears to deaden
the sound. It’s kind of like sticking your head out of a car window – it’s in
your head!! Hey, that’s the way it goes, and I just got on the bike, shifted out
of yesterday’s big ring gear, down to the middle ring and tried to get into a
rhythm. And it was damned hard indeed. Not only was the wind a factor, but the
road was a super false flat leading to Trinidad, with me eventually gaining
about 2000 vertical feet in 62 miles or cycling. You could just see the road
ramping up ever so gradually across the horizon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
even with my new tread and all the fancy crap inside of my tires, I had zero
gravel to ride today. This was it with respect to anything going east to west.
So I just struggled for the first 30 min trying to get some kind of rhythm
going. But it did come due to just spinning higher cadence/easier gear rather
than mashing and just blowing my legs out. Rode through Comanche National
Grasslands in the first hour to meet up with Judy for my first support stop –
and on this stretch of road, it’s a solid 70 miles of nothing for services so I
felt pretty damned lucky to have my support girl out there for me. Put down a
couple sandwiches and a coke and got back on asap to fight the headwind again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Rode
out of the grasslands and started stepping it up higher and higher to where
there were more mesas and vertical tree life. Also began to see more cactus and
desert southwest plant life. Traffic was minimal and the air temp was climbing
by the minute. Forecast for the area was supposed to be around 100, and though
I wasn’t visibly sweating, I could still see that salt was forming on my
jersey’s shoulder and neck areas, so the heat was definitely on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did the second ten mile stretch in
right around 10-11 miles per hour<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>just as I had the first 10 mile stretch – freaking pitiful compared to
yesterday, and I was working way harder today! Guzzled a Powerade and water and
back to the bike. Now something crazy happened in this third our of riding –
the wind just suddenly stopped, and then began to blow ever so slightly out of
the southeast. It was crazy. All of a sudden I was able to go 15. Wow, what a
bloody difference. And suddenly I’m doing new math to compensate for my
increase in speed. Funny, woke up this morning thinking it was a cake walk day
where I could do 60 miles in 4 hours. Then I get hammered by a headwind and I
have to accept the fact that the ride would go 6 hours. Then the wind shifts
and I’m thinking I can go 5 hours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
was a breeze, and I did the third hour at about 15 mph. Downed more water and
coke and back to the bike, and within 5 minutes of getting back on the bike it
was if I’d ridden straight into a wind tunnel. This giant gust of headwind hit
me and I was nearly knocked off the bike. And that quickly the wind was blowing
again at a steady state right smack into my face. Maddening! So there I was
again doing the freaking math on my ETA. This time the wind was even tougher,
maybe like 5 mph. Couple that with the road just ramping up even more in
altitude and I was just working it. These are the moments that you just really
remember when you think back on trips. It’s the stuff that you revel in when
the clock has ticked many days, months and years later. But when you’re in the
moment, when your tired, when you’d expected something much different for the
day, when you struggling, it’s just a massive pain in the ass to keep it
rolling. The minutes feel like hours and the hours feel like days. It’s slow
and painstaking, tedious and mindnumbing at times – and you do NOT revel in it!
You just want to get the miles and have the day come to an end so you do not
have to fight any more. That’s where I was in the 4<sup>th</sup> hour of riding
today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Made
it to our final support stop and my legs were feeling like concrete pillars.
Downed a final Powerade and water and jumped back on the bike asap. Just wanted
the get the hell out of the headwind. And the whole time I was silently
laughing at myself for having the gall to think that this was going to be a
recovery day of riding. What a dumbshit!! Recovery my ass! My legs were sore,
my ass was sore, my low back was sore, and I was doing these out of the saddle
sessions of like a mile at a crack just to stretch my legs out and get some
bite on the pedal strokes with the headwind crushing me so bad. By that time
I’d felt I’d earned the right to do the “countdown,” which is looking at each
and every mile marker when you’re within 10 miles of your destination. Each
mile covered spells relief. Each mile closer spells a mile closer to an end to
the fight. And man was I looking for each and every mile marker. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Nine
miles out hurts a lot. Five miles out feels much better. Two miles out feeling
like you’re just about over the hurdle. One mile out – that’s the homestretch
baby! Met up with Jude just outside of town and then she drove and I rode up to
the jcn with I-25. Done for the day. Got a motel and we’re good to go. Man I’m
tired, with just a piddly little 62-mile ride. We’re now 12 miles north of the
New Mexico border. I think with head south and then west towards Taos and Santa
Fe. Feels nice to be here in Trinidad, right at the foot of the front range.
We’re out of the nasty heat on the plains, and I’ve just ridden across the Great
Plains for the 4<sup>th</sup> time in 4 years. And I tell people: “I’d rather
ride the mountains than across the Great Plains.” The Great Plains can just
beat you down like a rag doll – and the last week had been a perfect example.
Goodbye Great Plains………Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-59704717056074423042012-07-14T13:49:00.000-07:002012-07-14T13:49:02.641-07:00Final attempt to defeat the sandburr
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Saturday,
July 14. Just north of Ordway, CO to Mile Marker 53 just south of Timpas, CO.
44 miles of riding in 2:40 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">This was
one of my two easy days today so we could do a side trip to Pueblo to get all
my bike crap so I can do dirt when available. Up at my customary 5 AM and had
coffee, two bananas and a salami sandwich for pre-ride. Loaded up the van and
Jude drove me back to the 37 Mile Marker north or Ordway for my start. Judy
went back to Ordway to get a run and workout in while I rode towards town.
Right from the get-go I could tell I had gas in the tank, so I just big ringed
it out and up to about 18 mph. I figured on riding 3 hours max today to get a
good jump on the ride to Trinidad tomorrow and so we could have plenty of time
today for me to buy the gear, install the gear, and get some grocery shopping
done. So anyway, I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was feeling
ecstatic with the possibility today of getting 45-50 for those three hours of
riding. No wind this morning, pretty much just dead calm with about a 70-degree
temp. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Man
I was just flying, and I kept the pressure on the pedals enough to get through
Ordway in 36 min and continue south on 71. Now there were a few gradual risers
along the way, and a few gradual descents, but all in all it just felt flat –
quite a contrast from the ride west on I-70 where you’re climbing a false flat
all the way to Denver. I still kept looking to my right at the gravel roads
that I couldn’t ride on, and that was a bummer. But with the speed I was
getting on the pavement, I didn’t shed too many tears! Got to Rocky Ford in
great time, like 1:30 hrs in – and I blew a turn, riding about a mile past my
turn before I realized that I screwed up. Now I was madder because of the
potential of Judy driving the right way and not seeing me, and then just
driving way too far looking for me, in addition to us not having coverage on
the phones. So I turned it around and found my mistake, then tried to give Jude
a call. Luckily we had reception. And she had indeed made the turn while I was
riding the wrong way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Just
a minor blip here, so no harm. Felt so good that when she did get caught back
up to me that I just motioned her on for another 5-10 miles. I had such a good
rhythm going that I wanted to keep riding despite the fact that the temp was
getting into the high 80’s by then. We finally did a support stop just before
Hawley. Only did an ice water and I was back on the bike like a NASCAR pitstop.
That final stretch between Hawley and the jcn of Rt 350 was just one lonely
stretch of highway. Just nothing anywhere but grazeland and scrub brush. Hell,
there were even weeds growing on the berm of the road. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Got
to 350, hung a right and off towards Trinidad. This was the gateway to Comanche
National Grassland – and zero in the way of east-west trending gravel roads. So
even tomorrow I’ll be on pavement despite the fact that I’ll be sporting new
skin on the wheels. Now you want to talk about desolation – this place
personifies that. You will see a ranch now and then, and I’m amazed that people
live their entire lives out in places like this. The only trees you see are the
cottonwoods that grow along creeks, draws and rivers. That’s it. So when you
see clumps or groves or long lines of trees, you can bet that water is or was
there. The only vertical plant life is the yucca plant and the tumble weeds and
the sage brush. That’s it. Now I’m sure a biologist would give me a good
reaming on all the other plant life out here, but that’s kind of nit picking –
it’s freaking barren!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>By
this time I was feeling a bit of a headwind out of the northwest, and it was
definitely affecting<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my speed.
Plus, the terrain was gently rising up towards the mountains that are some 60
miles away from that point. Still couldn’t see the silhouette of the Rockies
off in the distance yet, but I could feel the approach each and every pedal
stroke on Rt 350 southwest. Met Jude at the top of a climb with just 2:40 hrs
of riding and 44 miles traveled. But I was good with that because I wasn’t’
sure just how far Pueblo was from that end point. Still, I was just about a
60-mile ride away from making Trinidad, and that makes tomorrow, what with our
1.5 hr drive back, all the easier. I wouldn’t want to get up at 4 AM to get
back there to ride at 6 AM and face a 80-100-mile day – uphill! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
as I was changing, buck naked out in the middle of nowhere right alongside the
road, outside of the van, I see this massive tarantula creeping towards me
through the sand. I mean it was heading right for the passenger door…and me.
Quickly jumped into my cargo pants and changed my shoes and called Jude over to
see this thing. It was a big daddy for sure, about the size of a woman’s hand
actually. And I got this piece of belt on the side of the road to try to move
it the hell away from the van. God, you could just see these massive fangs and
jaws on this thing when it turned upside-down like a turtle. I finally got it
to cling to the piece of belt and then set it down well away from my changing
area and the van. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
drove us back up 350, 71 and eventually to jcn with Rt 50 west to Pueblo. Made
the trip in just under 1.5 hrs. Found the address of the bike shop and there we
were on Santa Fe Ave at the bike shop. I ended up getting: 2 Armadillo tires, 4
thorn resistant tubes, and a roll of Kevlar skin that goes between the inner
tire and the tube. Cost - $162 bucks. This dirt road cycling crap ain’t cheap!!
And the guy who was waiting on me in the shop was like: “are you sure you don’t
want 2 more tires?” At 45 bucks each, “yea, I’m bloody well sure!” I told the
guy if that set-up wouldn’t get me the 1000 miles to San Diego then I need to
find a different way to have fun. I’ve cashed in my IRA, spent my bank account,
and charged up the wazoo with VISA already. I’m done!! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
we happened to meet two cyclists (husband and wife) here in Pueblo at the
cycling shop who had stayed at the same place as us last night. They are from
the Netherlands and are taking the summer cycling across the US. He too was
buying some extra tires. They gave us a lead on a cheap place to stay that’s
just 3 blocks from the bike shop – the motel offers a “cyclist’s special.” So
they’re just next door to us now. The gentlman and myself spent the first 1.5
hrs outside of the motel room changing tires and tubes. I had all my tools and pump
and gear spread over the sidewalk as we got all the mechanical crap done. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">My tires are now the best I can do for going back to the
dirt. If this is a bust then I’m just done fighting the flats. Now the guy at
the bike shop told me that the sandbur thing is very common out here, and I
feel like a dope that I didn’t do more research on this topic. I mean I put so
much research into this and then the sandbur comes along and I’m down hard. But
anyway, he just wasn’t sure that doing as much gravel as I was intending on
doing, he wasn’t sure that I’d have a bombproof set-up. Most of the guys, he
tells me, do more of the single track up in the mts where the sandbur isn’t as
prevalent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Oh well, at this point I can’t say I didn’t try to
rectify the issue. It is what it is. Well, that’s about it for today. Time to
work and then we’ll walk around a bit and do some shopping for groceries. I
believe that I can wrap this trip up by the end of July. Lat……….Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->
</span><br />
Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-73065854520528748832012-07-13T15:18:00.000-07:002012-07-13T15:18:21.246-07:00A new day - A new attitude<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Friday,
July 13. Arriba, CO to just north of Ordway, CO. 86 miles of riding in 5:12
hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">As I look
back on it I kind of feel like I really put in a ninny of a blog yesterday –
“Oh woes me!” Sorry about that. You know, it’s really amazing what a difference
a day makes. Had a couple Fosters Oil Cans last night and just chilled with
Judy as we both pretty much fell asleep at 9 PM watching TV. Got in a great
night’s sleep and kind of had a gameplan as soon as I got out of bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtt-dzxLX8l6hL4jXI4ajZyyVDqAAoUVCBfOeEiYdRw6_MgO6w0mAcZ33liP8dt2mJjXsZajSVw7AnbIpWsRPnovOUwNxhtGevYvvN7iTAR73Hy2RfDsuLdMFavNHBEnalmNb0w6fy7D0/s1600/DSC01448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtt-dzxLX8l6hL4jXI4ajZyyVDqAAoUVCBfOeEiYdRw6_MgO6w0mAcZ33liP8dt2mJjXsZajSVw7AnbIpWsRPnovOUwNxhtGevYvvN7iTAR73Hy2RfDsuLdMFavNHBEnalmNb0w6fy7D0/s320/DSC01448.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It’s
funny how your mood can ebb and flow on trips like this. I’ve found that you
just cannot let a bad day or two get to you and ruin the long-term goal.
Crossing the country, I’ve found, is best done one day at a time. If you look
at the enormity of the whole thing it can just blow you away. Same is the case
when you just have your ass handed to you with bad weather, bad mechanicals,
bad terrain, and on and on and on. This trip – as opposed to the previous three
- has had me on the ropes several times with all sorts of issues, and I’m
really glad that I just slept on it and then got the ball rolling again the
next day. Now, obviously this trip has not turned into the trip I had
envisioned. I’m still so very far from truly attaining a coast to coast dirt trip
that it’s staggering to contemplate that such a challenge can actually be
pulled off. But I just hate quitting because it’s not shaping up the way I’d
wanted it. I detest giving in like that about as much as I hated loosing when I
was racing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I’m just trying to
do the very best I can with this and make it across the US whatever the
situation and with whatever I’m handed. Enough of that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Ok, back to today. Now I had an offer from my buddy Drew to
come to Denver and stay at his house if we wanted and I could sort things out
there. And that sounded pretty good, so our plan was for me to put in a half
day of riding, maybe going from Arriba back to Limon for 22 miles, and then
head south on Rt 71 towards Ordway for about 20 miles and get in a bit of a jump
on the following day. Then we would turn around and drive to Denver around 11
AM and I’d go to Drew’s bike shop where I’d get all new skins and tubes and
also get some inner liners to put in between the tires and tubes so I could run
the bike back in sand and gravel again. I’d read some pretty good reviews on
these liners for the kind of riding that I’m doing. That I think is better than
doing a total retro fit on the wheels and install the tubless with the goop
inside. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Ok,
so that was the gameplan. I emailed Drew on the drive back on I-70 to Arriba
where I’d start the day. We pulled into a rest stop at the Arriba exit and I
just rode up to the onramp and right down to the interstate and got rolling. No
wind this morning, round about 7:15 AM – a bit on the late side – and the
interstate was pretty sparse on the traffic side. Judy was asking me about
riding on the interstate and wondered how I could stand it. Now first of all, I
don’t EVEN fancy this kind of riding, especially when I’d just done nearly 650
miles of gravel and sand through MO and KS. But it is what it is, and having
that 8-10 foot berm on the interstate is often way safer than riding some of
those state and county routes where there is zero berm and a gazillion trucks
speeding by you. So in a pinch, the interstate riding out west is a good out.
And it’s really bloody safe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Knocked
off the 22 mile stretch in about 1:15 min and met Jude at a big gasmart in
Limon. I put down a couple sandwiches and a coke and off onto what we figured
would be a short 20-miler south on Rt 71. Now you may be wondering why we’re
suddenly going on a southern trend. I’d kind of looked at so many options on
this trip, and my first inclination was to kind of parallel the route that I’d
done last year, but to try to go dirt. As we got deeper into the trip this just
that gameplan seemed to be much harder, especially finding gravel across some
of CO and WY mountain passes. We had wanted to finish up in OR. Now the second
part of it is that I’d really like to see some different scenery on this trip
rather than just go through the same old from last year. Been there done that!
So I began looking at going south in CO and then west in Northern NM and AZ and
into San Diego, CA as an end point. Judy had a very good friend there and we
could enjoy So Cal for a few days, then drive north to visit our friends in WA.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
that’s the scoop there – new area, new terrain, new adventures. Well, I got
going on Rt 71 south and was just smoking it on the bike, averaging like 16-17
mph on a damned 26 in mountain bike. Wind yesterday was out of the southeast,
and today it was out of the northeast, so I had a tad of a tailwind. During
that 20-mile ride I had a lot of time to think about our day’s gameplan. Seemed
like a lot of time and money – it’s flowing like a bloody faucet right now – to
drive 100 miles to Denver and then do the same 100 miles back to Rt 71 tomorrow
morning to begin tomorrow’s ride. I thought maybe if I rode south and then
drove to Pueblo, CO for my tires, tubes, and skins, we’d save a lot of time and
money. So at the end of the 20 I got in the van and ran the idea by Judy, who
was totally cool with the plan. Done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
I just kept it rolling. We did like 10 and 15 mile stretches for support stops.
Now when you get on Rt 71 the first sign you see tells you that there are no
services for 74 miles. Kind of daunting when you’re on a bike, especially
unsupported. So I felt pretty lucky to have Powerade, food, and water in an ice
chest whenever I needed it. My own personal sag wagon! And with today’s heat,
that support was just awesome. And did it got hot quickly. Couple that with the
road, this little ribbon of asphalt that went off, off, off into the southern
horizon. Man, you can see a car go by and still see it 5 miles down the road
off in the distance. Welcome to the beginning of the desert Southwest. The heat
at least was dry. Not the nasty humid, stifling heat that we experienced in MO
and KS. But it is hot! I wasn’t really sweating much, but my arms, legs, neck
and face was just getting crusty with salt dust. Made sure not to piss my doc
sister off so I chugged down like 3 quarts of Powerade today in addition to
about that much in water. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Was
able to keep the wheels rolling with a great pace with very few hill of any
significance. Now there were a few long graduals, but I could still maintain a
great pace on these. The last twenty miles were pretty damned hot, with the air
rushing by me getting hot, like the air from a hair dryer. You know it’s hot
when the air you’re breaking through is hot. I was really toying with the idea
of knocking off the whole thing all the way to Ordway for a 90-some mile day.
But tell you what, with about 10 or so miles to go, I was pretty smoked. So I
jumped in the van and we called it a day. Drove just a short bit of time and we
were in the little town of Ordway. We booked this little motel, the only one in
the town, and I was pretty skeptical on what we’d get. But we were both
pleasantly surprised to find that this little mom and pop place is very clean,
quaint and well run. Cool little western town here. I have wifi, and we have
great AC, cable, and a sweet little room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tomorrow
I’ll do a short day of 30-40 miles – only to keep my streak alive (tomorrow
will be 43 straight days in the saddle). And then we’ll drive to Pueblo for the
bike gear. We’ll stay in Pueblo for the night and then drive back to where I
leave off tomorrow for the ride on Sunday. For Sunday ride I hope to hit
Trinidad, CO, close the NM border. That’s it for the day……..Pete<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">P.S. Good luck all of you on your racing this
weekend!!!!!</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-57741125251840112962012-07-12T18:21:00.001-07:002012-07-12T18:21:26.906-07:00The demon sandburr<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Thursday,
July 12. Goodland, KS to Arriba, CO. 78 miles of riding in 5:48 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Feeling
pretty low right about now. Today has just been a freaking pain in the ass with
these thorns. I was just wigged out all last night about more flats, kind of
like having nightmares about flatting. So I woke up at about 3 AM and went over
to my bike to check the tire pressure – and they were slowly leaking because
each one was mushy. Great start to the day right? So I decided to just work on
the computer and NOT wake Judy up by changing tires and fixing tubes. I’d wait
till she was up. Just couldn’t sleep what with all the thoughts of flatting out
and “what the hell am I going to do now” going through my head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Once
Judy was up I began changing out the tubes. Now I started out with 4 spare
tubes and a patch kit. But I’m down now to one new tube and about 2 patches
left. Filled the sink with water and then found my flats, then I went over the
tire with tweezers pulling out more thorns. They’re so small that you really
don’t know if you get them all. But I turned the tires inside-out and then used
my hand to gently go over every inch of the inside of each tire. Amazingly
enough each tube only had one hole each! Amazing considering that I pulled out
5-10 thorns from each tire. Got that done and then hurried to get the van
loaded, eat, and then begin the ride. I ended up getting on the road at 6:45 AM
– having gotten up at 3 AM. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
I began full of trepidation of the killer thorns. Got a short piece of asphalt
and then was back on gravel for the sun rising. Great sand road and a mild
70-degree temp was a super way to start the day. So I’m rambling along, keeping
my vigil on the tires and be damned if after about 30 min of riding I saw the
telltale brown head of a thorn on my front tire. Knocked it off with my right
hand and then checked the rear tire and it was ok. So now I’m just super wigged
and wondering what the hell I’m going to do. Got to our first meeting place in
Kanorado at the KS/CO line and I was ok with the tires. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">So we got our next support destination down and each of us
took off. Now in CO I was on a nice sand road simply called Rd X – fairly flat
and nice and sandy. I made sure to try to ride in the middle of the road to try
to stay away from the edges and where all the thorns seem to be. Now the riding
was harder because the gravel was much thicker, but hell, I’ll take that as
opposed to flatting. Made some good time in the big ring and met Judy at our
second support stop in good time. And as we were talking I noticed more thorns
on the front tire, and pulled them out – thereby letting the air rush out of my
tire. Hey, it’s that or let them embed in the tire and eventually flat anyway.
I’d rather use my good pump in the van than have to use my small pump out on
the road with no support. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Changed
the front tire and pumped it up for the umpteenth time, downed some Powerade
and water and went for the next section. Judy wanted to just follow me but I
convinced her to just take I-70 and meet me at our agreed upon spot. Got it
rolling again, and about 10 miles in I noticed that the front tire was getting
mushy, so I stopped and checked it out and sure enough it was going flat. So I
called Judy and asked her to drive down this road, Rd W, and meet me for yet
another tire change. I had it all off by the time she got there and we began
again. And while we were pulled over on the road I young fellow stopped to see
if we needed help, and I explained that I was changing a bike flat and asked
him what the hell I was hitting. He responded with “sandburs.” Said they just
everywhere, and all those guys actually run solid tires or they use fix-a-flat
inside the tubes. Told me I could go to the Co-op back in Burlington and see if
they have tubes or the solid tire. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
Judy and I jumped in the van and went back to Burnlington to the Co-op. Now
this was really just a automotive garage. The guy in there said that I couldn’t
use the “goop” stuff due to my presta valves. And he said he didn’t have any of
the solid tires, but that I could get them at the Hardware store. His caveat to
that was that I may not be able to find a tire to work on my super skinny rim
and that they roll off rather easy. Also said that the nearest bike shop was in
... Denver, 160 miles away! Well, went to the hardward. No presta tubes in the
there and the solid tires were way too wide to fit into my rims. Besides,
they’re super heavy, don’t take the bumps, and they can roll off in corners and
at speed. So we were done there. Next dilemma was what to do for the day – got
to Denver and do what several people had told me to do today – by tubless tires
and the Stan adaptor kit for tubed rims. I felt I just had to get in more than
35 miles for the day riding, but EVERY, AND I MEAN EVERY ROAD in this part of
CO along I-70<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that runs east to
west is gravel and sand. My only choice was to ride ON I-70. It’s legal here in
CO to ride on interstates outside of high urban areas. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
that’s what I decided to do, get some miles in for the day so it’s not a total
loss. Ended up riding a bit over 40 miles on the 70. It’s ironic how I wanted
to do a trip with peace and solitude and there I was riding down the bloody
interstate with people passing me at 80 mph. Jude did a fantastic job today
rolling with all the punches. I quite the day because the heat was getting up
to the mid 90’s and it was nearly 3 PM by the time I finished. We’re sitting
here in Limon, CO with me weighing my options for the trips. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
I’ve talked with guys from bike shops in Denver, courtesy of my buddy Andrew.
So here are all the angles I’m looking at for this trip based on all the
feedback I’ve gotten: #1) Drive to Denver and buy all the tubless gear and then
come back here to start again. Downpoint is that, and the bike guys have told
me that the tubless with the goop inside work well, but may not be totally 100%
dependable on a trip such that I’m doing. I could still have flatting problems
just because of the shear volume of the sandburs my tires pick up. OR, I could
buy or make tube protectors and put them inside the tires between the tire and
tube in conjunction with goop. This is another alternative, but I’d still have
to go to Denver. #2) Finish on pavement and cross the country for the fourth
time – 86 gravel and sand in CO, NM, AZ and CA because that’s all sandbur
territory. #3) Ride the northern route from last year and do gravel and sand
when available. I’m told the sandbur is altitude specific and I’d not encounter
it too much west of Denver when above 6000 feet. This route is just not
practical for gravel as I’ve been researching along the way on this trip, so
most of that too would be on pavement. And still, at altitudes below 6000 I
could still run into the sandburs. #4) Quite…bag it…call it a day. Go visit
Pete and Jane and WA. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So,
that’s were we’re at here in Limon, CO. Will let you know tomorrow what we end
up doing. Time for a few well deserved beers………..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-28867515232053492052012-07-11T15:18:00.004-07:002012-07-11T15:18:56.773-07:00Revenge of the Killer Thorns
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Wednesday,
July 11. Grainfield, KS to Goodland, KS. 96 miles of riding and bike-hike in
7:23 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">What a
killer bloody day indeed. And I have to say from the get-go, if it weren’t for
Judy I just could never had done this day. She was amazing in helping me out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">So…Up at 4:30 AM for coffee, microwaved chicken noodle soup
and two yogurts and we were out the door and driving back to Grainland where I
finished yesterday. Got on the bike before the sun crested up over the eastern
horizon. We were shooting for me getting a big day in today with the CO border
so close, plus the weather was on the good side with my starting temp at 58
degrees – a bit chilly to start but pretty awesome after the previous weeks.
Got rolling on Rd Z and slowly worked my way back to Oakley on a series of 3
more gravel and sand roads. The 27-mile ride was just great, I was making great
time and I met up with Judy in Oakley after about 1:45 hrs of riding. Wonderful
start to the day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Now the next section was the one that just gave us fits. I
had trouble finding Rd 30. Eventually, after a few blunders I got that one
right and then turned on to a nice gravel road by the name of F. Now this is
where the fun started. I was looking for Rd 28 within the first several miles
of riding F, but I never saw a sign. Then I came upon Rd 27, and it was this
primitive thing that looked like a dbl track into corn fields. So I turned
around and went to hunt down Rd 28. Turns out it had no sign and it was the
same primitive road like Rd 27, just drifting off into cornfields like Fields
Of Dreams for God’s sake. So I took it, got about a mile down and it hit a
swale and was just swamped with water. I mean it was like a pond that spread out
to cover corn field and the primitive road. Tried to go around it but the field
was just a massive mud-pit, so I was forced to turn around and ride back to Rd
27 and give that one a try. This one had no swale and no pond, but it was rough
as hell, and a couple miles in be damned if I didn’t begin to see those
freaking thumbtack thorns in my tires – AGAIN!!!!! Man, I was just bummed big
time. So I used my hand to run over the tires and knock off all the thorns as I
rode. It felt as though I was riding on borrowed time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
was just dreading another session of tire changing like yesterday. So I kept a
vigil on the tires kind of looking down and back constantly and then holding my
hands lightly on the tires to knock off the thorns while riding. Eventually the
road just turned to dbl track through weeds – right where all these freaking
thorns seemed to be coming from. So I had no choice but to shoulder the bike
and bike-a-hike for 1.5-2 miles to the next road junction. Seemed as though all
the earthen roads had the best chance of the thorns and the gravel and sand
were safe. So I was hoping to jcn with a gravel road in my next set of
directions and get the hell off of the earthen stuff with the thorns. Well,
that strategy went to hell quickly. When I finally came to a jcn that was sand
I remounted and rode for a few miles until that road deteriorated into another
section of dbl track earthen road with grasses on it. I just ended up jumping
from road to road trying to get on something that was gravel or sand – the
whole time cleaning my tires with my hands as I rode. That was a solid 30 miles
of madness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
I did end up getting several thorns in my fingers as I cleaned and my fingers
were getting rubbed raw, but I just didn’t want Judy driving down those roads
that were barely passable on a bike to rescue me. Gave her a call and we
talked, with her looking at the gazetteer in the van and kind of telling me
what went where and what looked like the best route to meet up with her seeing
that my route choices were just turning into “Thorn Roads From Hell”. I used
one of the roads that she gave me, and winged it with a few others. Seemed as
though this particular area in Western Kansas was just nothing but these
primitive farm access roads. The whole while I was doing the thorn vigil as I
was riding and constantly dropping my hands down to knock off the thorns as I
saw them on the tires. It was maddening for sure. Many of the roads in this
area were not even signed, so I’d just guess where I was at based on the signs I
did see. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After
what seemed like forever I got on the final road – Rd K – and followed that to
meet Judy at the jcn of K and 24. Man was I glad I’d made it with no flats, but
both Judy and I were picking the thorns out of the tires as I downed a Powerade
and ate 2 sandwiches. Seems that I didn’t run over the whole plant – which I
still don’t know what it looks like – but that I ran over stray thorns that had
blown on the dirt roads or had been transported via tractors and trucks. So I
was safe for the moment. We did a skull session in the van with the KS
gazetteer to find alternative routes to get up west towards the town of
Brewster, that rather than use the collections of F-ed up roads that I had
chosen the night before after a ton of recon work!. We decided for me to just
take K west since it was paved for about 2 miles and then it looked to be a
good gravel road for another 20+ miles. Judy took off and would take the
interstate and then drive south to meet me where I was about 12-15 miles in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Got
it rolling and once K turned gravel it was a good sandy gravel. But about 5
miles in it just got narrower and narrower and the surface turned to earthen –
and again I encountered more of the thorns. This thorn crap was just turning
into a total nightmare. Got the hands going again as thorn scrapers as I rode.
I did my best to ride in the very middle of the road right on this crown where
I was hoping would be the area of the road least likely to have those thorns.
Made it to the next meeting spot and this time I had Judy just drive ahead on K
all the way to an intersection where we’d hit some pavement just about 3-4
miles outside of Brewster. And that she did, driving nice and slow on this
earthen road to the paved jcn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Again,
I was still ok with the tires not flatting. We took the paved road to Brewster
only because there was nothing left to ride on but a couple of those primitive
earthen roads which were the same freaking dbl track through cornfields. By
Brewster I had a good 70-some miles in, and the temp was up in the 90-degree
range. But still, it really didn’t feel too bad. Jude made me 2 pbj sandwiches
and I downed an ice cold coke and another quart of Powerade. We had 20 miles or
so to Goodland, and I wasn’t quite sure if I could pull it off, so I had Judy
go back on the interstate and then meet me at a town called Edson, about 9
miles west of Brewster. I’d take a chance on another gravel or whatever road by
the name of Rd 64. Man, I was just praying that I’d get gravel and not earthen.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
was in luck, 64 was sandy gravel, and I was able to just put it down. Got to
Edson and did a quart of ice water and sent Judy into Goodland while I finished
the day by riding the final 12 or so miles. Hammered it the whole way. We got a
50-dollar motel in town – a quite nice little place – and I feel relieved that
I was able to get this day in the bag. I’m still checking my tires every 15 min
to see if they’re slowly leaking. So that’s the scoop on today. Managed to do
about 85 or so miles all gravel, sand or earth and 5-10 miles of pavement.
We’re now in MT time, and we’re about 13 miles from the CO border. Now CO looks
to be a real toughie for the dirt and gravel – a lot of jibbing and jabbing up
and down to go west – so I think we have our work cut out for us. Well, that’s
it. Time to chill for a bit with a cold beer!</span><!--EndFragment-->
</span><br />
Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-64654028959651080212012-07-10T14:45:00.002-07:002012-07-10T14:45:42.157-07:00Great Thorns of Kansas<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Tuesday,
July 10. Hays, KS to Grainfield, KS. 76 miles of riding in 5:48 hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Hung out in
Hays just a bit longer than usual so we could get the complementary breakfast
buffet in, which started at 6:30 AM. Got everything read to roll other than me
putting my kit and helmet on and eating fully prepped to ride. Should have done
that and I’d have gained another 10 min. But anyway, got the buffet in and on
the road at 6:45. Rode out of town on asphalt for a few miles, and then I was
back on track with the dirt. The first stretch was on that interesting lime
stuff. It’s a fine lime dust plus lime gravel, and it kind of forms this
concrete when it’s packed and rained on ad infinitum. BUT, has all these cracks
and joints in it – actually worse than the worst asphalt road you could ride
on. It’s just rough as hell – constant jolting on the hands, arms, shoulders.
Like right now, sitting here at the computer, my shoulders feel shot, I mean
sore as hell. And the other thing about that stuff is the fact that when the
sun shines, this stuff reflects light like snow. So I had to put my sunglasses
on at 7 AM because the road was so bright. But hey, there’s trade-offs
everywhere, and with this trip, I’ll take those minor irritants instead of
pavement with cars and trucks whizzing by all day long. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
“lime-crete” ended and then the road turned to sand after a bit, with some
gradual rollers along the way. But gradually the terrain really began to have
more and more flatter sections for longer stretches as I rode west. My gravel,
lime, sand roads ended just a tad outside of Ellis, so I road a short paved
section into town to meet Judy. Fueled up with just Powerade and I was off
again. Now I had intended to do this road called Feedlot Rd. But the locals
were telling Judy that it was on the other side of I-70, contrary to what my
gazetteer displayed. I decided to go with the gazetteer and not the locals –
and I was right on. So I continued on these sand and dirt roads for another
section. This stuff was generally all flat, actually it’s more like the longest
false flat you’d ever do, but it’s so subtle. Because in actuality riding
through KS, you’re slowly gaining elevation all the way through the state and
into CO all the way up to Denver where you get to 5280 ft in elevation. And I
can definitely feel that sensation of always working even on the flats. You’re
kind of gaining a couple of feet for every mile you’re riding. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
flats are actually false flats in a sense, at least here in KS. Met Judy at the
second support stop and I downed my 2 bologna sandwiches, a coke and ice water,
then off again. This was about a 15-20 mile section on nearly one road, N road.
And it was fine for a bit until it veered to the north from a westerly trend,
and then came a sign that read: “No Outlet”. Now I’d already gone over this
route 2x, and never saw that this was not a through road, so I decided to just
“investigate” the situation. Rode it for a bit and it kind of turned into what
looked like a farmer’s access road – just like so many other roads I’d ridden
here in KS that are public. But this one kind of turned into some dbl track
that was filled with weeds and it ended at rolling gates that led right into a
farm. So now the big decision: unchain the dbl gates and ride through the farmyard,
or go all the way back and figure out something different. Well, I’d opened
gates before, and there were no No Trespassing signs, so I went through, walked
the bike past the farm house and the barns, and went right out on another
gravel road. Done. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Got
to my next turn and it was onto just this earthen dirt road, where the dirt was
really thick and loamy in places, so much so that I could really feeling my
back wheel kind of washing all the hell over the place. It was the strangest
feeling with that back end just sliding around and feeling all flat and cushy.
Uh Oh...something went off in my head telling me to stop and check the rear
wheel. That just felt way too soft and washy. So I dismounted and felt the rear
wheel. It was loosing air. So I kind of spun the wheel around and low and
behold there were what looked to be a hundred of these little thumbtack sized
thorns in the tire. Now I don’t know what the hell these things are, but they
were prolific on my tire. I must have ridden right through them on that last
stretch before the farmhouse. I mean I could pull one out and hear air leaking
out of the tire. Then I could pull another, and another, and another, over and
over again. The tire was a disaster and the tube was definitely trashed. Felt
the front wheel and it seemed ok. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Decided
to ride the damned thing as far as I could and then hope that I had cell
service to call Judy for support, cuz I was in deep doo-doo. I needed to
replace the tire and tube. Rode the pup for another mile before I was down to
the rim. Got the cell out and thankfully I got Judy who was about 5 miles away
at our designated meeting spot. Pulled over out in the middle of nowhere on
this little one-lane earthen road and took off the rear wheel. I mean it was
just coated with these tack sized thorns. Then I checked the front, and be
damned of it wasn’t too. I pulled out about 8-10 thorns from the front and then
I started to hear the air coming out. Now I needed to replace both tires and
junk both tubes. Jude arrived in about 15 min, and I had the rear ready for new
tread and tube. Did both wheels while Jude used tweezers to pick thorns out of
my rear wheel. Her eventual count was over 100. Ditto for the front wheel. Got
rolling again on new skins and decided to put the hammer down to make up for
all the time I’d just lost. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With
a nice northeasterly tailwind, the big ring and a pretty flat series of dirt
roads I was able to slam through the next 15 miles to our 4<sup>th</sup>
support stop. Did 2 more bologna sandwiches, a Powerade and ice water and we
planned out one more section for the day, a 15-miler on pretty much just one
road. Again, hammer time and I kept it at a pretty steady 14-17 mph on a sand
gravel road. It times, and this was usually in the swales, the sand was a good
2-5 inches thick. So you’d sail down through this stuff and just let the wheels
track themselves and then shift up and do these mellow climbs. All in all it
was some great riding. Made our final meeting spot in under an hr, as the temp
had climbed to about 89-91 degrees. Felt a bit hot, but really great compared
to the previous couple wks. I wasn’t just coated in salt rings soaking wet.
Felt good actually. So today I think I did about 73 miles of dirt out of the 76
total miles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Our
abode tonight is this cheapie motel. It was that or camp at this cheesy little
RV place with no trees, no showers, no facilities, and out in the middle of the
sun. Ahh, I think I’ll pay 20 more bucks for AC and all the rest! Tomorrow
should be the last full day in KS, and then we make CO on Thurs. Got to get the
gazetteer and the maps out to begin to work on that one. Late……..Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-17870445922314722132012-07-09T14:58:00.001-07:002012-07-09T14:58:20.804-07:00Hello cool weather<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Monday,
July 9. Just north of Ellsworth, KS to Hays, KS. 73 miles of riding in 6:01
hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Arial Bold';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 19px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Man this
was just a total reverse in weather compared to what I’ve been riding in over
the past two weeks. Up at 5 AM, downed a footlong Subway sub, coffee and one
the gravel at 6:30 AM. Had Judy drop me off in the middle of nowhere KS to
start my ride on a road called Ave B – just a nothing of a little dirt road
that went off to the west into the hills and graze-land of this massive state.
I started climbing from the gun and the road more resembled a farmer’s one-lane
access road than a public road. The first climb just about had my heart
pounding right out of my chest. I mean it was SLAM – within the first 5 min of
riding. Got to the top of that and as I looked at this little road off in the
distance all I saw was it just doing these roller-coastering up and down for
miles on end. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Thought to myself that this was going to be a bitch of a
day. Well, I eventually got through that hilly section within an hour and then
the road kind of got wider and flatter, and of course I was able to pick up the
pace considerably. Now after the road settled down I rode, had to be for at
least another hr past the vast section wind turbines. They were just
everywhere, towering up at least a hundred feet above me. Each one had a number
and I’d ridden past a several hundred of them over the course of that hour. And
along the way I spotted two sets of bicycle tire tracks, which had me pretty
jazzed that there were other people out there riding as I was. Cuz really
gravel is the rule out here rather than the exception. Only several ribbons of
asphalt connect this vast gridwork of gravel roads. Seems that the whole state
is laid out in a grid of roads in 1x1 mile squares. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Met
Judy at our first support stop, and be darned if the two people who were riding
bikes were there at the van talking to Judy. They turned out to be two locals
out for a morning ride. Judy had told them my intentions on the route for the
day, and they had suggested a better route – all on dirt. So we got the KS
gazetteer out and one of the guys kind of pointed each of the four roads out
for me. I quickly penned them down on some scrap paper and put it in with my KS
roadmap and my route directions. I keep all my state roadmap and directions
sheet in a big plastic freezer bag – that because I’d been sweating so much
that the maps and paper would just turn into a slurry of paper mulch half way
into a ride if they weren’t protected. I even keep my little digital camera in
a freezer bag due to the sweat. Some days during that 12-day heat-wave my
jersey has just been totally soaked with sweat by day’s end. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
we all talked for a short bit while one of the guys checked his cell for a
current weather map – and it didn’t look good. There was a massive front moving
in from the southwest and it had the potential for some serious weather. We all
said our goodbyes and I was off after downing a coke and Powerade. Judy took
off for our next rendezvous point and I was back on the road. Got in about 3
miles and felt it sprinkling. So I rode for another mile or so and it had
picked up to a steady rain, and just as I made a turn onto another sand road it
really started to come down. “Ok dude, get ready for the misery factor!” What
with wet sand and mud the end result with the steady rain. And about the time
the rain picked up I saw this farm house off to my left, and it looked
abandoned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Pulled in and hunkered down on this old porch as the rain
really started slamming. Actually there was just a little hinge lock on the
door, so I opened up up to this living room area. Now this looked to be a
really lovely home many, many years ago. It was built out of rough cut
sandstone blocks, with lath and plaster on the inside and hardwood floors and
ceiling. But the place was just a wreck inside. Anyway, when I opened the door
to the inside I could still feel the heat from the previous day’s heat wave. I
mean it was a good 20 degrees hotter inside than outside. Felt really in there
good since the temp outside with the rain was about 72 degrees. Called Judy and
told her I was holed up on an old farmhouse whereas she told me where she was
at it wasn’t even raining. And I looked out the window of the farmhouse and I
was just engulfed in a total whiteout of a rainstorm. So I just hung out and
kind of explored the old farmhouse for a bit, and then answered some emails
when all else failed. Noticed that all the out buildings were made of the same
rough cut sandstone blocks. Could only imagine what a wonderful little farm this
was at one time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">After about thirty min, when the rain settled down to a
light drizzle I finally decided to get back on the bike and take my medicine –
which was going to be a tone of sand, dirt and gravel sticking to my tires and
being thrown up into the air and all over me. I put on my sunglasses to protect
my eyes and got it rolling. And exactly what I expected happened – shit getting
kicked up everywhere by my tires. I had gravel and sand in my hair, mud and
sand all over my legs and arms, grit and mud all over the bike, and a handful
of gravel and sand inside my cycling shoes. It was crazy listening to all the
crap pelting my helmet and whizzing past my face. Sounded like my bike frame
was being sandblasted. And the funniest thing was that within 20 min of riding
I the wet road was totally dry, almost as if there was a line there between the
wet and the dry. Made it back to Judy and looked to the southwest where I was
and it was just dark purple, whereas where she was it the sun was out. Never even
rained by her, just about 8-10 miles from where I had been. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Two bologna sandwiches, coke, ice water, Powerade and I was
off for the next section. From that point onward the gravel roads really
flattened out and I was able to kick it in for miles and miles in the big ring.
Now we did have a small blip on the radar where Judy went to the wrong jcn, but
that was really not a huge problem. I just rode another 5-7 miles west and she
met me there. I’m trying my best to choose a course that parallels I-70 so her
support is as easy as we can make it without having her drive miles and miles
into the vast unknown on gravel roads to find me. So far it’s worked quite
well, with almost all the roads being marked, and all the junctions pretty easy
to find. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">The last section was on a gravel road called Victoria Rd,
and it changed a couple of times from sand to gravel to this bright white
limestone, which had been so packed down and baked by the hot weather that it
more resembled concrete. It was so white that I had to put my sunglasses back
on to protect my eyes from a kind of snowblindness. Couple of times there were
these gas/oil well guys driving like 60 mph down this little road, just
hammering. After like 5+ hrs of riding gravel and sand backroads and having
nary a person pass me – let alone fast -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was taken aback by these dudes hammering down the quiet backroads.
Thankfully that was all of it for those guys. Did notice though that I was
riding through some countryside that was littered with gas and oil wells – not the
new stuff I’d seen back in WV, but these old fashioned oil-well pumpers and
some old gas-well cylinders. So there must have been a boom here a decade or so
ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Just before the city of Hays my beautiful little gravel road
Victoria turned into pavement and then led right into downtown Hays where I was
suddenly confronted with a mass of humanity and vehicles. Totally sucked! I’ve
been loving the feeling of being out there in the middle of nowhere with no
people, no traffic, no nothing, and then riding straight into suburbia – that
was a total shock. So I ended up with about 5 miles of pavement for the day,
the last 5 miles. Called Judy to get the scoop, and she had booked a cheap
motel up in town near the interstate, so I just rode up to the motel to meet her.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Couldn’t
get in the room till 3, so we drove down to a chinese buffet and did all you
can eat thing. Right now Judy’s burned out on Subway, whereas I could just eat
it day in and out for the whole bloody trip. We actually still have about 60
bucks worth of Subway cards left, so we’re still jamming on those after all
these weeks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Today’s
high was 76 – a major cold one in Western KS in the summertime. And it had
looked like the heavens were going to burst open practically the whole day –
very little sun today. The wind was out of the northeast, so I had a bit of a
cross tailwind again. All in all a very, very good day to ride across KS on
dirt. The next 5 days are forecast to be in the high 80’s-low 90’s, so I think
I’m in ok shape for a bit. Think I can make it through KS in 2.5 more days –
doing all gravel/sand/dirt. Then comes CO. Hope it’s as nice as KS is with
respect to the surfaces. Late……Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-68248747566452638082012-07-08T14:20:00.001-07:002012-07-08T14:20:58.446-07:00Gravel paradise<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Sunday,
July 7. Hope, KS to just north of Ellsworth, KS. 72 miles of riding in 6:11
hrs.</b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Bang the
gong, ring the bell, strike up the band fore it’s time to celebrate cuz this
was the day that broke the streak of over 100-degree days. Yup, we were at 12
straight days yesterday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And damn
what a difference a day makes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Got
it rolling today at 6:30 AM, this due to us waiting for the “Dream Breakfast
Buffet” that was a bomb! I love to fill up on that nutritious sausage and eggs
and sausage gravy and all that junk. But all they had was sausage gravy and
biscuits. So we kind of hung around for nothing. Judy drove out to where I
ended yesterday in this little hamlet called Hope, and I was on gravel right
out of the gate. It was Rt 700 which paralleled Rt 4 – a paved road – that Judy
would drive to the town of Gypsum. Now Eastern KS had rain last night from a
thunder storm (much needed rain for that matter) so the dust factor was gone.
The gravel was firm and the weather was a cool 70-degrees. Felt just awesome to
be so cool. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
things were going pretty well on the gravel, with the road like straight as an
arrow and just small undulations to climb. Nothing like the crazy steep stuff
from the past few days of dirt. And I was feeling like I could get a really
good day of dirt in what with the forecast being a high of like 93-95 for
today. Then my cozy little world came crashing down – when the gravel turned to
dirt. Suddenly the firm surface I was riding on became tacky, and I noticed my
tires just getting bigger and bigger, as if they’d grown like twice they’re
size. The layer of dust from the drought had gotten just tacky enough to stick
to my tires and then build up, and up, and up, until the mud was so thick that
it eventually got knocked off by the collar on the front shock for the brakes.
It was just miserable. And I’d look back and see this set of tracks in the
pseudo-dirt where the soil was being picked up and adhering to my tires. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It
got so bad that I was slowed down to about 8 mph and working my ass off to do
that. Mud would build up so thick that when it got shredded off by that collar
it would spray up in the air and just rain down dirt, gravel and mud particles
everywhere. Now the first time this earthen stretch lasted about 2 miles and
then the road went back to gravel, where I just had to clean all the mud off
the tires to continue without being pelted to death with gravel stuck on all
the mud. So yes, there was a second stretch of earthen road/tacky dirt followed
by gravel. And then there was the long one, like 5+ miles of that shit. Have to
admit I shouted out loud a string of expletives when I hit the third stretch. I
mean I had hardened mud flying everywhere from my wheels. I was getting hit in
the head, had it all over my legs, some pieces went down my jersey top, and my
shoes were filling with gravel and big pieces of sand. It was a total pain in
the ass. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So
I limped in to the town of Gypsum to meet Judy, just totally mudded out. Put
down my good old bologna sandwiches, had a coke, a bottle of ice water and a
quart of Powerade, and then took off for the next section Mentor. Got to admit
that I was gun-shy at that point and I was telling myself that if the next
section started with that frigging earthen road I’d get my ass back on
pavement. But thankfully it was more of a sand road than anything, kind of like
dbl track that went right through corn fields. I mean these roads are just
crazy, some of them look like access roads to farmer’s fields, but they have
county and township names and numbers. Some of them, hell you couldn’t even get
a pick-up truck down them they’re so primitive. So this next pup war great,
just dbl track sandy surface with no sticky mud. And I flew. It ended in the
town of Mentor where the road turned to pavement for the last half mile. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
third section for the day started off as pavement, and I had Judy just drive up
ahead on this guy. We skirted around the city of Salina, and then headed up
towards I-70 so Judy could get on the interstate while I rode gravel 1-2 miles
south of her and paralleling I-70. We took Burnma Rd for a good 6-7 miles on
pavement against a vicious headwind out of the northwest. Now Burma rd was
closed right where it changed to gravel. So I ended up climbing down through
this dry creekbed where the bridge had been washed away and bike-hiked it to
the other side to continue. And that’s where the fun began. The riding was just
off the charts amazing out there. I mean off in the distance I could see I-70
to my right, but I was just way the hell out in the plains alone, no traffic
and very few farms. The landscape had turned to this large and endless swath of
rangeland. We’d definitely made it to the Great Western Plains. The
expansiveness was just such a sight to see as I’d look down the road and watch
it turn to this tiny ribbon that drifted off into the horizon, undulating over
and over and over again. Kind of made me feel like an ant in the middle of a
desert. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>With
the wind out of the northwest today I felt as though I had a wonderful cross
tailwind to help me along when I was riding in a westerly direction. There were
sections where I was flying along on gravel at 17-19 mph – until I’d hit the
undulating climbs, where I’d have to hit the middle cookie and spin. But all in
all, it was just fantastic for gravel riding. Met Judy at our third meeting
spot and cranked down 2 more bologna sandwiches and coke and Powerade and
water. By this time we were just meeting at these little junctions where Judy
could exit and enter I-70, drive south for a mile or two on gravel, meet me,
and then drive back up to the interstate and continue west to the next meeting
point/exit spot. I mean there were just no towns or cities to meet at.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
last section, about 12 miles, was the most amazing. The road was just to
primitive that I was constantly wondering if I was on private land, but every
so often I’d pass signage that indicated that I was on public roadway. The road
was really only one lane wide, and at times it got so thick with this sandy,
loamy fill that on descents I had to kind of let the front wheel just go where
it wanted with me not fighting it. In some places the powder was 4-6 inches
thick, and that was usually at the bottom of descents where I was doing a solid
30 mph. You could just feel the bike “wander” as I hit these “fluff” areas. But
the scenery was just crazy. Loved it despite the tough riding. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
did end up hitting this climb that was a little cookie grinder, up through this
earthen road past cattle on graze-land that stretched as far as the eye could
see. This LOOKED like the wild west for sure. That section just made me feel
like I was a million miles away from everything. So I finished on this gravel
road/paved road jcn – no town, no city, just out in the middle of nowhere.
Ended up today with all but maybe 8-9 miles on gravel/dirt. Very solid day when
I don’t have the hot temps to beat me down. We phoned in a reservation at a
little motel in the town of Ellsworth, about 6 miles down the road. It’s a
weird, kind of dumpy place where we have no window – except to the reverse side
of the room where we have a window next to the indoor pool and a conference
room. Strangest thing I’ve ever seen! We both hate it, and if it weren’t for
the fact that we’d already drug all our crap in there, we have complained and gotten
a room with a window for the outside!! Oh well, I’m just too tired to really
care that much. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Subway
is just acroos the street. I mean is that ridiculous or what? Nine times out of
ten we always have a Subway within walking distance – and honestly I’m not
planning this! Talk to you tomorrow………pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6593381783603494111.post-1731004072918645282012-07-07T13:35:00.001-07:002012-07-07T13:35:39.535-07:00Riding with cows<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial Bold"; font-size: 14.0pt;"><b>Saturday,
July 7. Osage City, KS to Hope, KS. 74 miles of riding in 6:09 hrs of riding
ending in 104-degree heat. </b></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Day 12
straight of the heat-fest – days over 100. Today was just a total pain in the
arse with respect to getting started. Since I need to get on the bike at the
crack of dawn, we had to get up in Topeka at 4 AM, and then make coffee, eat,
and drive back down the 30 miles to Osage City for me to ride at 6 AM. It was a
ton harder on Judy than me. Heck, I’m already getting up at 4:30 as it is, so
that half hr earlier was easy. But we got it done - much to the credit of Judy
going with the flow right now of all these early riding starts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now
before I get started on the day’s events, let me digress a bit and discuss my
eating. And I go into this only because Judy thinks it’s freaking crazy the
amounts of food I’m eating. Ok, so like the day before yesterday she said that
I ate 12 sandwiches throughout the entire day, and is predicated on her
counting 6-inch Subway subs as one sandwich each. I’d count a footlong sub as
one sandwich, but hey, who am I to argue. So I had 2 bologna sandwiches for
breakfast, four more for lunch breaks during the ride, three<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>6-inch subs for dinner, and 3 hotdogs microwaved
in the evening. Yup, that = 12 sandwiches for the day. Damn, this talk is
making me hungry already!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">So yea, I’m still eating up a storm here. And for some odd
reason this damned bologna is just the ticket for me. I have not eaten that
crap in 20 years - at least - so I don’t know why all of a sudden this stuff is
just tasting great. I have a hunch it’s all the salt in the meat (and I use
that term quite loosely cuz I’m sure there’s tongue, feet, lips, various
anatomical parts that I won’t mention, and organ tissue in this bologna stuff).
But man, I’m like addicted to this junk right now. We’re getting me the thick
cut stuff, which is perfect on good old Wonder-type white bread. Yea, it’s a
hillbilly sandwich for sure! Yet I’m just jamming down the road on it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Anyway, not more than a mile out of Osage City, I was on
gravel, and I stayed on gravel for the next 4+ hrs of riding. Only got off
course once, due to no signage, but that was a short blip that I was able to
figure out. Riding the gravel in the morning was just fantastic, with the temps
around 75 degrees, and the sun super low on the horizon. The crickets were
still chirping, the birds were beginning to do their thing with the bird calls,
and there was not a sole vehicle on the roads. It was just one of those
otherworldly experiences where you feel your senses heightened. Having such a
new and expansive landscape unfolding in front of you minute after minute, when
you’re all alone, that is just something you have to experience on your own to really
appreciate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">And I had that going on for a good 2 hrs straight. I mean I
didn’t have a vehicle pass me until 2:15 hrs into the ride – and that was the
only car that went by me that whole time on gravel in those 4 hrs! Now the
surfaces ran the gamut on this stretch, from a fine white lime gravel, to dirt
and dust, to heavy lime gravel, to primitive dbl track with weeds, cow shit and
….cows in the middle of the track.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now there was still just a boat load of climbing today just as
yesterday, but when the temp is nice and cool, it doesn’t take that much out of
you. Only when the temps creep up in the 90’s do I really begin to feel the
climbing efforts, and then on the flats when the sun is blazing, it just feels
like you’re riding in the middle of a frying pan. I’ve been calling the riding
that occurs after 10 AM – Hell’s Kitchen. Those 2-3 hrs of riding are just
tough as hell when the temp is 100+.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">I could really only maintain like an average of 10 mph max
due to the hilly terrain and the thick layering of gravel on certain tracks. I
mean I good downhill gave me no more than 18 mph, but a steep climb knocked me
back sometimes to a wimpy 3 mph. And I’ll tell you what, having gone 3x now
across North America pulling a 75-pound trailer – this is WAY tougher than
dragging a trailer down asphalt roads. I’m trying to match some of my rides out
here from last year and I’m just not getting in that kind of mileage due to the
gravel. I’m toast on a 60-80 mile day right now, and last year coming through
here I was able to knock down some 80-100 mile rides. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">So I’m on this one long, long stretch of gravel called Road
330, and slowly over the course of like 10 miles this thing just kept
deteriorating into a more primitive road. Finally, it turned to dirt double
track with a freaking cow gate on it. Now there were no “No Trespassing” signs,
so I kind of figured it was the honor system to open and close the gate to keep
cows in. So I opened up and closed and started riding. Rode down over a rocky
stream bed, and then<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>on up to road
that I could only term 4-wheel drive material. And You could kind of see it go
off into the horizon, so I just stayed with it figuring it would lead me to a
cross road escape route if need be. About a mile down the road I’m riding
amidst cows – in the road, or track or whatever you want to call it. And I’m
like scaring the hell out of them. They’re freaking a bit and running in front
of me as if I was herding them. They finally took a left back into the open
range and I was ok. Made me wonder if I was on someone’s property, and then
when I saw activity up ahead, some farmers working on some equipment, I was
readying myself to getting chewed out for trespassing. But nope, I just said
“howdy” with them giving me a wave, and I came to another gate, pulled the
chain through, opened it and let myself out, closed it, and then just rode on.
It was crazy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">So then I got on another road and stumbled onto this old RR
grade that was the Flint Hills Nature Trail – and it trended west towards the
town of Council Grove where I was to meet with Judy. So I took it. It was
primitive for sure, with ruts and all sorts of gravel for the crown, but it was
actually faster than the roads due to the fact that it was old RR grade. Done.
Rode this pup for a few min and then I get a call from Judy telling me about
this nature trail that she just found in Council Grove – bingo! She told me
that she’d been told this thing is like 20 miles long, and I had to be about 10
miles into it. So we had her get on her bike and ride towards me. Now my
section was just pretty low maintenance for sure, while her section closer to
town was better maintained. Hell, I even passed a farmer on a ATV who was
looking for 2 lost head of cattle, tracking them by checking out the poop on
the trail. Then I had to go over two barbed-wire cattle barricades, massive
rutted sections, an old RR bridge with no railing whatsoever, plus some pretty
thick sections of gravel. But hell, it was flat and still much easier than the
roads. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Met Judy with about 6 miles to go and we had a great ride
back together to Council Grove. By the time I got there those 46 miles of
gravel, hills and the heat had sucked some serious energy out of me. Got to the
van and did 2 sandwiches, a coke, 2 bottles of ice water, a bottle of Powerade
and just sat there in a bloody food coma for 20 min. Decided to do the next
section to Herrington on pavement what with the temp at nearly 100 and an opp.
for me to get liquids on a very regular basis from Judy. Tell you what, the
temptation to stop right there in Council Grove definitely crossed my mind
several times. I mean I felt smoked. Started out just creeping at like 9 mph on
asphalt, but over time I was gradually able to pick it up, just a bit at a
time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt;">Met Judy about 15 miles down the road for more water and
coke, and then back on the bike for the final push to Herrington. Ended up
stopping in Herrington to call various motels, which around here is harder and
harder to find, to snag a place to crash for the night. All we could come up
with were places in Albilene, another 30 miles northwest, or this place in
Herrington which was a bit pricey. Decided on Herrington just because it was
the most convenient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Got it
together enough for me going another 10 miles down the road just to get in the
needed mileage for the day. Finished in this little hamlet called Hope, 74
miles in for the day – a bit more than half of that gravel – in 104 degrees. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Chilling in the AC right now. Now I’ve heard that
the temps are to go down into the low 90’s for the next 4 days, but I’ll
believe that when I see it. If that is indeed the case my life – and Judy’s –
will be much easier. Until tomorrow……….Pete</span><!--EndFragment-->Petehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09216153335924329737noreply@blogger.com0