Thank you to everyone who has been following our journey here and supporting us along the way. There were times of triumph and days of despair, but throughout but throughout the love and support of our friends and family have been invaluable.
I hope you have enjoyed these stories, and check back again in the next couple of weeks. Hopefully I will have the pictures from the last week of the trip up, and all will be complete.
I suppose we got a bit ahead of ourselves when we named the blog, about 400 miles ahead of ourselves, but I'm sure you won't begrudge us a few shortcuts. Adam has continued on from Hartford and is headed for Virginia, you might find him in Kentucky if you wanted to go looking for him. He is carrying the torch now. He'll make it up for us.
And, remember...
Rubber Side Down
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Day 52 August, MO to Hartford, IL
2842.5 miles
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
We have arrived weary but safe with two-thirds of the continental United States behind us.
We started the morning stretching on the bluffs of Klondike Park overlooking the Missouri River Valley. Looking west, whence we had come - across the endless plains, the terrible hills of Montana, the beautiful mountains, the high deserts, the rainforest. You could almost see the fog of Astoria in the distance.
The Katy between Augusta and St. Charles is particularly beautiful running through great arches of trees, alongside bluffs hidden by forest, and wetlands both vibrant and decaying. Our itinerary for the day would have had us riding 80 miles into Illinois bypassing most of the metro area by going North and then East. But, if 60 miles was pushing our new riding partner to his limits 80 miles might kill him. We began looking for alternative routes, something to cut down the mileage, but our maps were not help. All the bike accessible routes dead ended at the Missouri. It looked like we would have to ford the river. If only little Timmy didn't have diptheria.
But providence interceded in the form of the Green Bottom Road Trailhead. There was a bike path over the Missouri alongside the Page Avenue extension that would take us into Creve Coeur Park. But, how would we get through the city? How would we get into Illinois over the Mississippi? How would we get to Hartford?
In these times of trial one can only ask, what would Merriweather Lewis do? What would William Clark do? What would Seaman the dog do?
They would strike out into the unknown, that's what they would do. Maps schmaps, it's time to make our own route.
Off we went into the unknown, into the City of St. Louis.
We ended up making our way into University City, where we were able to catch a Metrolink train down to the river landing, and from the landing we rode the Riverfront Trail north to Chain of Rocks Bridge. The Riverfront Trail takes riders through the heart of St. Louis's post-apocalyptic industrial wasteland. Mountains of crushed automobiles dot the landscape along side hills of other discarded materials of unknown origin. In the river the remnants of piers long since lost to the water's insistent pull stand alongside half sunk barges. Eventually, this nightmare of modern life gives way to hills of dirt and trees, grass, parks.
The Chain of Rocks Bridge is a marvel all it's own stretching across the river, an endless spann of steel that takes one into the heart of the river to watch the muddy water flow and eddy.
Suddenly we were in Illinois. Suddenly we were in Hartford, and there was a great gathering of St. Ivanys with a veritable feast laid out before us.
We rejoiced!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
We have arrived weary but safe with two-thirds of the continental United States behind us.
We started the morning stretching on the bluffs of Klondike Park overlooking the Missouri River Valley. Looking west, whence we had come - across the endless plains, the terrible hills of Montana, the beautiful mountains, the high deserts, the rainforest. You could almost see the fog of Astoria in the distance.
The Katy between Augusta and St. Charles is particularly beautiful running through great arches of trees, alongside bluffs hidden by forest, and wetlands both vibrant and decaying. Our itinerary for the day would have had us riding 80 miles into Illinois bypassing most of the metro area by going North and then East. But, if 60 miles was pushing our new riding partner to his limits 80 miles might kill him. We began looking for alternative routes, something to cut down the mileage, but our maps were not help. All the bike accessible routes dead ended at the Missouri. It looked like we would have to ford the river. If only little Timmy didn't have diptheria.
But providence interceded in the form of the Green Bottom Road Trailhead. There was a bike path over the Missouri alongside the Page Avenue extension that would take us into Creve Coeur Park. But, how would we get through the city? How would we get into Illinois over the Mississippi? How would we get to Hartford?
In these times of trial one can only ask, what would Merriweather Lewis do? What would William Clark do? What would Seaman the dog do?
They would strike out into the unknown, that's what they would do. Maps schmaps, it's time to make our own route.
Off we went into the unknown, into the City of St. Louis.
We ended up making our way into University City, where we were able to catch a Metrolink train down to the river landing, and from the landing we rode the Riverfront Trail north to Chain of Rocks Bridge. The Riverfront Trail takes riders through the heart of St. Louis's post-apocalyptic industrial wasteland. Mountains of crushed automobiles dot the landscape along side hills of other discarded materials of unknown origin. In the river the remnants of piers long since lost to the water's insistent pull stand alongside half sunk barges. Eventually, this nightmare of modern life gives way to hills of dirt and trees, grass, parks.
The Chain of Rocks Bridge is a marvel all it's own stretching across the river, an endless spann of steel that takes one into the heart of the river to watch the muddy water flow and eddy.
Suddenly we were in Illinois. Suddenly we were in Hartford, and there was a great gathering of St. Ivanys with a veritable feast laid out before us.
We rejoiced!
Day 51 Portland, MO to August, MO
2774.3 miles
Today it was a party on two wheels, or six depending on how you count.
Not far out of Portland we came to the bridge to Hermann and decided to take lunch at the winery. We had wine and cheese on the in the Hermanhof gardens, and then we had pie and coffee at Time for Pie in town. They had only been open for 9 days, but they have a good thing going.
Eventually we left Hermann and rode on finding ourselves at the bar in Treloar several hours later drinking High Life and watching Young Guns. The result of all this fun was that we rolled into Augusta late, just before 7pm with nothing in our bags to eat and a terrible hunger in our bellies. The bartender/waitress/cook i.e. the only person at the microbrewery took pity on us though she was closing up shop and made us a quick dinner and pulled a couple more brews.
We pedaled on up the rode a couple more miles, sapping the very last of AC's energy for the second day in a row, and up a steep hill to Klondike Park for the night.
Today it was a party on two wheels, or six depending on how you count.
Not far out of Portland we came to the bridge to Hermann and decided to take lunch at the winery. We had wine and cheese on the in the Hermanhof gardens, and then we had pie and coffee at Time for Pie in town. They had only been open for 9 days, but they have a good thing going.
Eventually we left Hermann and rode on finding ourselves at the bar in Treloar several hours later drinking High Life and watching Young Guns. The result of all this fun was that we rolled into Augusta late, just before 7pm with nothing in our bags to eat and a terrible hunger in our bellies. The bartender/waitress/cook i.e. the only person at the microbrewery took pity on us though she was closing up shop and made us a quick dinner and pulled a couple more brews.
We pedaled on up the rode a couple more miles, sapping the very last of AC's energy for the second day in a row, and up a steep hill to Klondike Park for the night.
Day 50 Columbia, MO to Portland, MO
2713.4 miles
We went into Columbia last night to sleep away from the bugs and the heat, and to pick up AC's bike and belongings.
We are now three. Briefly, this morning we were four. Justin joined us for the 10 miles to McBaine, and then parted with us to return to Columbia. Three went on.
We rode AC hard today for his first day out. We put in 60 miles to Steedman, MO where we expected to find camping available in the yard of the town's bar and grill. We found the bar. It was the only thing in Steedman, but it was closed. Whether it would open another day was an issue of some debate, but without access to water or toilets it was a debate whose conclusive answer we could not afford to wait and discover.
AC was in rough shape. We needed another ten miles to the next camping listed on our maps, but he was having nothing of it. We rested awhile and then gave him some energy goo, mango flavored, to propel him on. Fortune favored us however, and five miles down the road we came across a campsite that was not listed on our maps in Portland. Our fate was sealed as I went in search of the campground's owner and my front tire blew out No proprietor could be found, but in searching a local woman informed us we could camp for free at the community center up the hill.
Don't worry AC, we need ride no further tonight.
We went into Columbia last night to sleep away from the bugs and the heat, and to pick up AC's bike and belongings.
We are now three. Briefly, this morning we were four. Justin joined us for the 10 miles to McBaine, and then parted with us to return to Columbia. Three went on.
We rode AC hard today for his first day out. We put in 60 miles to Steedman, MO where we expected to find camping available in the yard of the town's bar and grill. We found the bar. It was the only thing in Steedman, but it was closed. Whether it would open another day was an issue of some debate, but without access to water or toilets it was a debate whose conclusive answer we could not afford to wait and discover.
AC was in rough shape. We needed another ten miles to the next camping listed on our maps, but he was having nothing of it. We rested awhile and then gave him some energy goo, mango flavored, to propel him on. Fortune favored us however, and five miles down the road we came across a campsite that was not listed on our maps in Portland. Our fate was sealed as I went in search of the campground's owner and my front tire blew out No proprietor could be found, but in searching a local woman informed us we could camp for free at the community center up the hill.
Don't worry AC, we need ride no further tonight.
Day 49 Arrow Rock, MO to Cooper's Landing, MO
2647.9 miles
Amanda did not stay up until 2am last night consumed with a fiery determination to finish the final Harry Potter. But, she couldn't walk away, or ride away without knowing. So, we went back to Arrow Rock and she finished up the book before we hit the road.
We picked up the Katy Trail in Booneville. It should take us nearly to the conclusion of our journey. The Katy treats us very well. Flat, smooth, no traffic. These next three days should be a very comfortable way to end our trip.
We rode fast. The ease of terrain and the anticipation of our welcome party put some speed into our legs, and soon we were in Rocheport, and then Cooper's Landing.
Amanda's parents were there to meet us as were Elizabeth, Justin, and AC. We had Stags on the river and ate thai food. It's good to be home, if only briefly.
Amanda did not stay up until 2am last night consumed with a fiery determination to finish the final Harry Potter. But, she couldn't walk away, or ride away without knowing. So, we went back to Arrow Rock and she finished up the book before we hit the road.
We picked up the Katy Trail in Booneville. It should take us nearly to the conclusion of our journey. The Katy treats us very well. Flat, smooth, no traffic. These next three days should be a very comfortable way to end our trip.
We rode fast. The ease of terrain and the anticipation of our welcome party put some speed into our legs, and soon we were in Rocheport, and then Cooper's Landing.
Amanda's parents were there to meet us as were Elizabeth, Justin, and AC. We had Stags on the river and ate thai food. It's good to be home, if only briefly.
Day 48 Arrow Rock, MO and Booneville, MO
2597.6 miles
Today, I read Harry Potter 7. Start to Finish. 14 hours.
Amanda's Mom brought us the books in Arrow Rock along with snacks. Thanks Nancy.
Amanda and her Mom saw a play. At some point we went to Booneville. There was a bed a breakfast built during the civil war by a Missouri Boat Captain.
These events are but fleeting ephemera.
I read...and read.
Then, it was over.
Today, I read Harry Potter 7. Start to Finish. 14 hours.
Amanda's Mom brought us the books in Arrow Rock along with snacks. Thanks Nancy.
Amanda and her Mom saw a play. At some point we went to Booneville. There was a bed a breakfast built during the civil war by a Missouri Boat Captain.
These events are but fleeting ephemera.
I read...and read.
Then, it was over.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Day 47 Lexington, MO to Arrow Rock, MO
2597.6
Lexington is a really neat place to be. Lots of history. Very pretty, quaint. There is also a wonderful bookstore, River Reads, downtown. They serve a good cup of coffee and have a terriffic selection of literature for a small town bookstore. No shelves of Harlequin here. We had doughnuts in honor of Harry Potter 7 being released. Amanda read Rumi. I read Rilke. We read for a couple of hours.
Eventually we had to tear ourselves away from the comfy confines of the bookstore and ride instead.
We rode to Arrow Rock, another delightful place to be. The state park in Arrow Rock is very nice and the town is tiny, old, charming, very charming. We walked around town before hitting the tent for the night, knowing that we could sleep in because tomorrow instead of riding we read Harry Potter.
Lexington is a really neat place to be. Lots of history. Very pretty, quaint. There is also a wonderful bookstore, River Reads, downtown. They serve a good cup of coffee and have a terriffic selection of literature for a small town bookstore. No shelves of Harlequin here. We had doughnuts in honor of Harry Potter 7 being released. Amanda read Rumi. I read Rilke. We read for a couple of hours.
Eventually we had to tear ourselves away from the comfy confines of the bookstore and ride instead.
We rode to Arrow Rock, another delightful place to be. The state park in Arrow Rock is very nice and the town is tiny, old, charming, very charming. We walked around town before hitting the tent for the night, knowing that we could sleep in because tomorrow instead of riding we read Harry Potter.
Day 46 North Kansas City, MO to Lexington, MO
2532.8 miles
Well, there go our days of early starts. It was nice while it lasted. We bummed around Natalie's apartment for a couple hours, and then we bummed around NKC for a while - vitamin store, coffee, farmer's market. We tried to find a low traffic way out of town, and failed. We ended up taking 210 out, but it turned out to be a major thoroughfare that didn't really slow down until we got well past 435.
I blew a tube on riding through a pool of broken glass, and that rather set the tone for the day. It turned into a hot day into the wind, drudgery. We took lunch in Missouri City. There were, maybe six people and at least 12 dogs. The dogs gathered around us lounging in the grass, curious but not invasive.
We made Henrietta early in the afternoon with no food in our bags. We searched the city in vain for the promised grocery, and then again for the promised cafe, only to realize that the Casey's gas station functioned as gas station, grocery, and cafe. We ordered a pizza and bought a couple tall boys of High Life, all of which we strapped to my bike and rode over the hill to what no longer seemed a very promising prospect for camping.
Our fears were confirmed. The "campsite" was in fact an RV Park. No, no, that doesn't quite describe it. It was a bare spot in the endless fields of corn where a few RV's were parked, permanently. The water was the color of mud and the bathroom facilities were back at the Casey's (closes at 10pm).
This was not promising. There was no camping within riding distance, but this was not promising. We ate our pizza, and washed it down with a cold one. Decided to try our luck in the yard of the B&B's in Lexington.
Lexington wasn't open for business though. No one would answer the phone at any of the towns Bed and Breakfasts. However, as we were trying to reach the proprietor of one establishment, the neighbors came out and saw us looking like we could use a hand. They helped us try to reach the other inns, but no luck, so Gale let us crash in her backyard and take a shower. Rescued again by the kindness of strangers.
Well, there go our days of early starts. It was nice while it lasted. We bummed around Natalie's apartment for a couple hours, and then we bummed around NKC for a while - vitamin store, coffee, farmer's market. We tried to find a low traffic way out of town, and failed. We ended up taking 210 out, but it turned out to be a major thoroughfare that didn't really slow down until we got well past 435.
I blew a tube on riding through a pool of broken glass, and that rather set the tone for the day. It turned into a hot day into the wind, drudgery. We took lunch in Missouri City. There were, maybe six people and at least 12 dogs. The dogs gathered around us lounging in the grass, curious but not invasive.
We made Henrietta early in the afternoon with no food in our bags. We searched the city in vain for the promised grocery, and then again for the promised cafe, only to realize that the Casey's gas station functioned as gas station, grocery, and cafe. We ordered a pizza and bought a couple tall boys of High Life, all of which we strapped to my bike and rode over the hill to what no longer seemed a very promising prospect for camping.
Our fears were confirmed. The "campsite" was in fact an RV Park. No, no, that doesn't quite describe it. It was a bare spot in the endless fields of corn where a few RV's were parked, permanently. The water was the color of mud and the bathroom facilities were back at the Casey's (closes at 10pm).
This was not promising. There was no camping within riding distance, but this was not promising. We ate our pizza, and washed it down with a cold one. Decided to try our luck in the yard of the B&B's in Lexington.
Lexington wasn't open for business though. No one would answer the phone at any of the towns Bed and Breakfasts. However, as we were trying to reach the proprietor of one establishment, the neighbors came out and saw us looking like we could use a hand. They helped us try to reach the other inns, but no luck, so Gale let us crash in her backyard and take a shower. Rescued again by the kindness of strangers.
Day 45 Rock Port, MO to North Kansas City, MO
2475. 9 miles
We spent the morning down in the river valley among Missouri corn, and after lunch we started into the hills of Missouri. The hills have changed. It is clear that these are no longer the blown dust hills of Iowa. These hills have bedrock. They were born a tectonic birth. The forests are different as well, thick, robust, hardwood.
This is beginning to look like home. I recognize these hills, these trees.
It was a late morning out of Rock Port today. A storm rolled in around 5:30am. We were scheduled to rise, the alarm was preparing it's shrill call, as the rain began to fall, hard. It kept us in the tent until 9am, and it took us a couple hours to dry out or belongings before we could hit the road.
Eighty miles later we were just outside of St. Joseph, twenty miles short of our goal for the day, and dusk was falling. We had hoped to ride through St. Joseph to a spot just outside of North Kansas City. Amanda's cousing Natalie was going to pick us up there and take us to her place in NKC. But, we ran out of daylight, and as Andy would say, "Wear your helmet, and don't ride at night."
Sage advice.
Natalie picked us up outside of St. Joseph instead. We managed to cram three people, two bikes, and all of our belongings into her little Nissan. It was a feat worth of circus clowns. Natalie took us back to her apartment and cooked us a delicious spaghetti dinner. A fair warning to others: do not invite cyclists into your house for spaghetti unless you enjoy cooking like the matriarch of a large Italian family.
We spent the morning down in the river valley among Missouri corn, and after lunch we started into the hills of Missouri. The hills have changed. It is clear that these are no longer the blown dust hills of Iowa. These hills have bedrock. They were born a tectonic birth. The forests are different as well, thick, robust, hardwood.
This is beginning to look like home. I recognize these hills, these trees.
It was a late morning out of Rock Port today. A storm rolled in around 5:30am. We were scheduled to rise, the alarm was preparing it's shrill call, as the rain began to fall, hard. It kept us in the tent until 9am, and it took us a couple hours to dry out or belongings before we could hit the road.
Eighty miles later we were just outside of St. Joseph, twenty miles short of our goal for the day, and dusk was falling. We had hoped to ride through St. Joseph to a spot just outside of North Kansas City. Amanda's cousing Natalie was going to pick us up there and take us to her place in NKC. But, we ran out of daylight, and as Andy would say, "Wear your helmet, and don't ride at night."
Sage advice.
Natalie picked us up outside of St. Joseph instead. We managed to cram three people, two bikes, and all of our belongings into her little Nissan. It was a feat worth of circus clowns. Natalie took us back to her apartment and cooked us a delicious spaghetti dinner. A fair warning to others: do not invite cyclists into your house for spaghetti unless you enjoy cooking like the matriarch of a large Italian family.
Day 44 Council Bluffs, IA to Rock Port, MO
2397.1 miles
Missouri! Missouri! Missouri!!!!!!
Only one more state to cross, and it is probably for the best. We appear to be wearing a bit thin.
We left Clark and Sue's place around 7am, and immediately found ourselves riding alongside the Loess Hills of Iowa again. We spent most of the morning there, sandwiched between the steeply rising hills of dirt and the endless fields of corn like some strange painting of mountains by the sea, in which the mountains are far too small and the sea is undulating waves of stalky grain.
We stopped in Thurman, IA to fill our water bottle, and got lost. Instead of riding out of town along the flat road underneath the hills, we rode directly into them. It should have been abundantly clear that we were off course. The map clearly showed that the route was flat, and here we were staring at the sky, our quads burning. Yet, we persisted. We didn't bother to stop at the base of the hills, no, nor halfway to the summitt. No, not even at the top of the first hill did we bother to consider our mistake. It was not until we had crested a large hill, making the possibility of return unthinkable, that we hesitated.
In unison, "I think we took a wrong turn."
Onward and upward, literally, higher and higher into the hills. I am not, however, all complaints. We'd been in the flat valley between the River and the Hills for the days now. The hills offered a whole new world of possibilities, use of muscles we hadn't engaged lately, and vistas we would never have seen from below.
Most importantly, however, riding into the hills of Iowa led us to the best pie West of the Mississippi. It was getting close to lunch time. Not, the close to lunch time told by the clock, but the close to lunch time you feel deep in your belly, and then shortly after in your head - eat, or fall over, fool. It was then, as my belly commanded me to halt further progress for the morning, that I crested a hill to discover the most beautiful of sights: Cherries, Peaches, Apples...inscribed upon a sign, an orchard.
This was not just an orchard. This was the Hilltop Grounds Cafe and Orchard. The delightful proprietor, Lisa, allowed us to bring in our lunch of avocado, crackers, and bread, while she provided the iced tea. But, there was really only one thing on our mind, and that was pie.
It was delicious. It was everything you want out of pie. The fruit was fresh from the orchard and prepared with marvelous skill to be placed inside the crumbly, buttery crust. This pie melted, trancendently, upon the tongue. We ate four pieces between us, two pieces of very berry (cherries, blueberries, strawberries, and gooseberries), a piece of cherry, and a piece of peach.
The trees at Hilltop Grounds have been producing fruit for 125 years, and each week Lisa turns that fruit into 40 delectable, crusty treats. Go! Go now! I know you want pie. You've been dreaming of pie like this for years. 1 mile north of Hamburg, IA on US-275.
Full of pie, we rode to Hamburg, which I insist on pronouncing in the same manner as one would pronounce the city in Germany. That is not how it is pronounced in Iowa, not at all. The heat descended on us in Hamburg, so we wholed up in the library.
Come 5pm, it was on to Missouri. I am sad to say that the State of Missouri did not deem to place a welcome sign on US 275 at the Iowa/Missouri border. So, we had to make due with a "Wear Your Seat Belt Sign" bearing that all to familiar outline, you know, the one that looks like home.
Missouri! Missouri! Missouri!!!!!!
Only one more state to cross, and it is probably for the best. We appear to be wearing a bit thin.
We left Clark and Sue's place around 7am, and immediately found ourselves riding alongside the Loess Hills of Iowa again. We spent most of the morning there, sandwiched between the steeply rising hills of dirt and the endless fields of corn like some strange painting of mountains by the sea, in which the mountains are far too small and the sea is undulating waves of stalky grain.
We stopped in Thurman, IA to fill our water bottle, and got lost. Instead of riding out of town along the flat road underneath the hills, we rode directly into them. It should have been abundantly clear that we were off course. The map clearly showed that the route was flat, and here we were staring at the sky, our quads burning. Yet, we persisted. We didn't bother to stop at the base of the hills, no, nor halfway to the summitt. No, not even at the top of the first hill did we bother to consider our mistake. It was not until we had crested a large hill, making the possibility of return unthinkable, that we hesitated.
In unison, "I think we took a wrong turn."
Onward and upward, literally, higher and higher into the hills. I am not, however, all complaints. We'd been in the flat valley between the River and the Hills for the days now. The hills offered a whole new world of possibilities, use of muscles we hadn't engaged lately, and vistas we would never have seen from below.
Most importantly, however, riding into the hills of Iowa led us to the best pie West of the Mississippi. It was getting close to lunch time. Not, the close to lunch time told by the clock, but the close to lunch time you feel deep in your belly, and then shortly after in your head - eat, or fall over, fool. It was then, as my belly commanded me to halt further progress for the morning, that I crested a hill to discover the most beautiful of sights: Cherries, Peaches, Apples...inscribed upon a sign, an orchard.
This was not just an orchard. This was the Hilltop Grounds Cafe and Orchard. The delightful proprietor, Lisa, allowed us to bring in our lunch of avocado, crackers, and bread, while she provided the iced tea. But, there was really only one thing on our mind, and that was pie.
It was delicious. It was everything you want out of pie. The fruit was fresh from the orchard and prepared with marvelous skill to be placed inside the crumbly, buttery crust. This pie melted, trancendently, upon the tongue. We ate four pieces between us, two pieces of very berry (cherries, blueberries, strawberries, and gooseberries), a piece of cherry, and a piece of peach.
The trees at Hilltop Grounds have been producing fruit for 125 years, and each week Lisa turns that fruit into 40 delectable, crusty treats. Go! Go now! I know you want pie. You've been dreaming of pie like this for years. 1 mile north of Hamburg, IA on US-275.
Full of pie, we rode to Hamburg, which I insist on pronouncing in the same manner as one would pronounce the city in Germany. That is not how it is pronounced in Iowa, not at all. The heat descended on us in Hamburg, so we wholed up in the library.
Come 5pm, it was on to Missouri. I am sad to say that the State of Missouri did not deem to place a welcome sign on US 275 at the Iowa/Missouri border. So, we had to make due with a "Wear Your Seat Belt Sign" bearing that all to familiar outline, you know, the one that looks like home.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
We did it!
This is a quick post to let everyone know that we finished last Thursday and did not get lost in Iowa. The trip took 52 days, and our final mileage was 2842. We were joined by Adam Campbell for our last 180 miles and welcomed to Hartford, IL by a gang of St Ivanys complete with food and beer. More details later, and we're working on the last issue of the zine as we re-adjust to life off a bike and prepare for our upcoming moves.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Day 43 Lewis and Clark State Park, IA to Council Bluffs, IA
It is hot. Did I say that already?
It was hot last night, which made sleeping difficult. We were not particularly well rested this morning as we left camp. Though we didn't make our target departure time of 6:30, we did make it out by 7:00. Not bad.
Much of the trip tday was spent alongside the Loess Hills of Iowa. Loess is the German word for loose and is used to describe hills created as the result of windblown dust. The spine of grass and forest covered hills towering above us as we rode South today grew slowly over millions of years as dust from the plains was blown and deposited like sand dunes on the western edge of Iowa. Pretty amazing. These are the second largest loess hills in the world after a range in China.
The hills are beautiful, as anyone who is a Dar Williams fan will know. Beautiful and anomalous stretching as far as the eye can see North and South, but with ceaseless plains stretching for miles west, flat as flat can be. )I don't know what happens to the East. I can't see over the hills.) Perhaps the most interesting aspect is when we ride by the location of a slide and are able to see the exposed interior of the hill. There is no bedrock, really, no rock to speak of - just dirt. At times it is uniform, and at times striated in reds, grays, or browns; but there is only dirt - millions of years worth of compacted dust. I'm totally fascinated.
We stopped in Mondamin, IA for a snack and talked to some of the local farmers. It's too dry here, but that seems to be an old story. One repeated year to year. They spoke of rain in tenths of an inch. "I got eight-tenths up the road, but one and two-tenths on the hill." "I only got six-tenths." A perennial problem of such grave importance that it requires both continual and acute observation.
One of the farmers likes to eat peanut butter and onion sandwiches. The other left us with the sage advice that, "The important thing is not to get in a hurry." When its 105 degrees out, there is no better rule of thumb.
We made it as far as Missouri Valley by noon. Then the heat struck and the mercury pushed up into the hundreds, topping out at 105. So, we retreated to the sanctity and refuge of the Missouri Valley library. It is a gorgeous building furnished with plush chair and couches. The nicest library we've been in yet. It's nice that with only a few hundred miles to ride there are still gems to be found. Amanda napped on a couch while I kept busy with maps and magazines. We waited until 5:30 and hit the road again.
The thermometer still read 104, but as the sun slowly retreated toward the horizon the heat began to break. I wasn't sure we'd make the 25 miles to Council Bluffs, but 5 miles out we could see the towers of Omaha on the horizon, and it gave us enough incentive to push on.
We didn't make Council Bluffs until nearly dusk, and were saved from a miserable night at Lake Manawa State Park by Clark and Sue, who seeing us disheveled and confused on a street corner invited us in to their gorgeous, 100 year old farmhouse for the evening. They are both cyclists and were excited to have a couple of grungy, tired tourists in their home. Clark provided liquid refreshement and made us at home, and Sue cooked the best fried egg sandwich I've ever eaten. We couldn't have dreamed of better hospitality.
Refreshed, clean, comfortable we went to the promise of a good nights sleep.
It was hot last night, which made sleeping difficult. We were not particularly well rested this morning as we left camp. Though we didn't make our target departure time of 6:30, we did make it out by 7:00. Not bad.
Much of the trip tday was spent alongside the Loess Hills of Iowa. Loess is the German word for loose and is used to describe hills created as the result of windblown dust. The spine of grass and forest covered hills towering above us as we rode South today grew slowly over millions of years as dust from the plains was blown and deposited like sand dunes on the western edge of Iowa. Pretty amazing. These are the second largest loess hills in the world after a range in China.
The hills are beautiful, as anyone who is a Dar Williams fan will know. Beautiful and anomalous stretching as far as the eye can see North and South, but with ceaseless plains stretching for miles west, flat as flat can be. )I don't know what happens to the East. I can't see over the hills.) Perhaps the most interesting aspect is when we ride by the location of a slide and are able to see the exposed interior of the hill. There is no bedrock, really, no rock to speak of - just dirt. At times it is uniform, and at times striated in reds, grays, or browns; but there is only dirt - millions of years worth of compacted dust. I'm totally fascinated.
We stopped in Mondamin, IA for a snack and talked to some of the local farmers. It's too dry here, but that seems to be an old story. One repeated year to year. They spoke of rain in tenths of an inch. "I got eight-tenths up the road, but one and two-tenths on the hill." "I only got six-tenths." A perennial problem of such grave importance that it requires both continual and acute observation.
One of the farmers likes to eat peanut butter and onion sandwiches. The other left us with the sage advice that, "The important thing is not to get in a hurry." When its 105 degrees out, there is no better rule of thumb.
We made it as far as Missouri Valley by noon. Then the heat struck and the mercury pushed up into the hundreds, topping out at 105. So, we retreated to the sanctity and refuge of the Missouri Valley library. It is a gorgeous building furnished with plush chair and couches. The nicest library we've been in yet. It's nice that with only a few hundred miles to ride there are still gems to be found. Amanda napped on a couch while I kept busy with maps and magazines. We waited until 5:30 and hit the road again.
The thermometer still read 104, but as the sun slowly retreated toward the horizon the heat began to break. I wasn't sure we'd make the 25 miles to Council Bluffs, but 5 miles out we could see the towers of Omaha on the horizon, and it gave us enough incentive to push on.
We didn't make Council Bluffs until nearly dusk, and were saved from a miserable night at Lake Manawa State Park by Clark and Sue, who seeing us disheveled and confused on a street corner invited us in to their gorgeous, 100 year old farmhouse for the evening. They are both cyclists and were excited to have a couple of grungy, tired tourists in their home. Clark provided liquid refreshement and made us at home, and Sue cooked the best fried egg sandwich I've ever eaten. We couldn't have dreamed of better hospitality.
Refreshed, clean, comfortable we went to the promise of a good nights sleep.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Day 42 Sioux City, IA to Lewis and Clark State Park, IA
2241.2 miles
We awoke early this morning and hit the road at six. The car was due back at 1:30 in Sioux City, and we were hoping to get a few miles away from the city. We stayed and extra day in Columbia, so we are running a little behind schedule. We were hoping that fresh from the weekend we could make some easy miles.
That is not true. Taking more than one day off the bike is too many. Our bodies are unaccustomed to riding and we are lazy. Plus, it is hot. Too hot. We hit the heat of the day in Sioux City, and it was miserable.
42 miles seemed like much further than it should have across the plains of Iowa. At least there were showers when we got into camp.
We awoke early this morning and hit the road at six. The car was due back at 1:30 in Sioux City, and we were hoping to get a few miles away from the city. We stayed and extra day in Columbia, so we are running a little behind schedule. We were hoping that fresh from the weekend we could make some easy miles.
That is not true. Taking more than one day off the bike is too many. Our bodies are unaccustomed to riding and we are lazy. Plus, it is hot. Too hot. We hit the heat of the day in Sioux City, and it was miserable.
42 miles seemed like much further than it should have across the plains of Iowa. At least there were showers when we got into camp.
Days 39-41 St. Louis/Columbia, MO
2195.1 miles
We stayed in Columbia on Thursday night, and then in the morning Amanda went to St. Louis for the gala wedding festivities.
She danced, partied, wakeboarded, and saw old friends.
I stayed in Columbia, saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, finished up the second edition of the zine, drank beers, ate great meals, and saw old friends and family.
It was a nice, relaxing weekend away from bikes, but we have 10 days and roughly 800 miles to go, so it's back to Sioux City on Monday.
We stayed in Columbia on Thursday night, and then in the morning Amanda went to St. Louis for the gala wedding festivities.
She danced, partied, wakeboarded, and saw old friends.
I stayed in Columbia, saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, finished up the second edition of the zine, drank beers, ate great meals, and saw old friends and family.
It was a nice, relaxing weekend away from bikes, but we have 10 days and roughly 800 miles to go, so it's back to Sioux City on Monday.
Day 38 Vermillion, SD to Sioux City, IA
2195.1 miles
We got up early enough today to...drink more coffee at the wonderful coffee shop in Vermillion. Yay!
Eventually, though perhaps not quickly enough, we tore ourselves away - again - and headed towards Sioux City. It was a nice morning and the clouds were beautiful as the sun was climbing into the sky. We had a nice leisurely ride from Vermillion to Elk Point, and then realized we were running a little bit late.
After a quick snack we kicked it into high gear and took off, which didn't do us any good because I misread the map and instead of turning on Riverside Blvd. in Sioux City I turned on River Ln. in North Sioux City, and we were lost.
By the time we hit the bike path going into Sioux City we were the logging trucks and everyone was getting out of our way as we desperately tried to make our rental car appointment. Everyone except to little chihuahuas who were unleashed on the trail and nearly became yippy little pancakes.
We ended up calling the rental car people and they set us up with a later pickup, so it all worked out. The folks at Albrecht cycle were super friendly and gladly stored our bikes in their basement for the weekend, and the car rental people were also very helpful. It all seemed a little too easy, and before we knew it Amanda was behind the wheel cruising toward the interstate at 25mph, like she was 90 and half blind, and I was still gripping my handrest with white knuckles.
Automobiles are a little nerve racking after a month on a bike.
For those of you who may be wondering why we rented a car/thinking we gave up and went home, let me bring you up to date.
Amanda's friend Paul is getting married in St. Louis on the 14th, so we have rented a car that Amanda might be present for the wedding, and I don't want to be left all alone in Sioux City. It's kind of dismal.
We got up early enough today to...drink more coffee at the wonderful coffee shop in Vermillion. Yay!
Eventually, though perhaps not quickly enough, we tore ourselves away - again - and headed towards Sioux City. It was a nice morning and the clouds were beautiful as the sun was climbing into the sky. We had a nice leisurely ride from Vermillion to Elk Point, and then realized we were running a little bit late.
After a quick snack we kicked it into high gear and took off, which didn't do us any good because I misread the map and instead of turning on Riverside Blvd. in Sioux City I turned on River Ln. in North Sioux City, and we were lost.
By the time we hit the bike path going into Sioux City we were the logging trucks and everyone was getting out of our way as we desperately tried to make our rental car appointment. Everyone except to little chihuahuas who were unleashed on the trail and nearly became yippy little pancakes.
We ended up calling the rental car people and they set us up with a later pickup, so it all worked out. The folks at Albrecht cycle were super friendly and gladly stored our bikes in their basement for the weekend, and the car rental people were also very helpful. It all seemed a little too easy, and before we knew it Amanda was behind the wheel cruising toward the interstate at 25mph, like she was 90 and half blind, and I was still gripping my handrest with white knuckles.
Automobiles are a little nerve racking after a month on a bike.
For those of you who may be wondering why we rented a car/thinking we gave up and went home, let me bring you up to date.
Amanda's friend Paul is getting married in St. Louis on the 14th, so we have rented a car that Amanda might be present for the wedding, and I don't want to be left all alone in Sioux City. It's kind of dismal.
Day 37 Vermillion, SD
2142.5 miles
135 miles in a day deserves a day off, right?
Well, we took one anyway. We thought we would just hang out in the coffee shop and work on the zine for a while, then head to Sioux City, but seven hours later we were still in the coffee shop. At least I was. Amanda got a haircut, did some other stuff. Since it was a short ride to Sioux City and we couldn't pick up the rental car until noon, we figured there was no harm done hanging out.
Vermillion is a great little town. Home of the University of South Dakota and only 9700 or so people. So, it has both college town and small town charm. The coffee shop that we lived in for a day is the Coffee Shop Gallery. It's on main street in Vermillion and comes highly recommended. The coffee was great, as was the food, and nobody gave us sideways glances for camping out all day. One of the baristas also referred to me as his bearded brother.
After tearing ourselves away from the coffee shop we gathered the necessities for a picnic (cheese, fruit, bottle of wine, peanut butter brownies) and headed back to the park where we drank wine and relaxed for the remainder of the day.
Vermillion...South Dakota turns on the charm, again.
135 miles in a day deserves a day off, right?
Well, we took one anyway. We thought we would just hang out in the coffee shop and work on the zine for a while, then head to Sioux City, but seven hours later we were still in the coffee shop. At least I was. Amanda got a haircut, did some other stuff. Since it was a short ride to Sioux City and we couldn't pick up the rental car until noon, we figured there was no harm done hanging out.
Vermillion is a great little town. Home of the University of South Dakota and only 9700 or so people. So, it has both college town and small town charm. The coffee shop that we lived in for a day is the Coffee Shop Gallery. It's on main street in Vermillion and comes highly recommended. The coffee was great, as was the food, and nobody gave us sideways glances for camping out all day. One of the baristas also referred to me as his bearded brother.
After tearing ourselves away from the coffee shop we gathered the necessities for a picnic (cheese, fruit, bottle of wine, peanut butter brownies) and headed back to the park where we drank wine and relaxed for the remainder of the day.
Vermillion...South Dakota turns on the charm, again.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Reminder
There are new posts below, but I wanted to keep two things at the top of the page.
July 23rd - Cooper's Landing
July 26th - Hartford, IL
Mark your calendars.
July 23rd - Cooper's Landing
July 26th - Hartford, IL
Mark your calendars.
Day 36 Platte, SD to Vermillion, SD
2142.5 miles
We had some punk teenagers mess with us in the middle of the night. It was shortly after I had fallen asleep. They came over stood around our tent and just started screaming. Amanda saw them walk up, so she realized what was happening, but I woke up terrified that we were being attacked, and was halfway out of the tent before I understood what was happening. You are charming Platte, particularly your library, but your children have nothing to do.
When the bored teens left a storm blew in. It was a big one to. Rain blew in under the fly and the tent was like a sail, but we stayed reasonably dry and when the howling died down we caught a few hours sleep.
The storm did finally switch the winds. They were blowing hard out of the Northwest this morning bringing in cold air from Canada. So, it was a perfect day of riding. We had 15-20mph winds to our backs with highs in the mid-70's. We flew down the road for 135 miles. Yes, 135 miles in one day. It was amazing.
Our goal was 105 to Yankton, but at lunch, roughly 50 miles in, we figured that if we made Yankton by 5pm, to check the mail, we could push on to Vermillion. It was going to be close so we rode hard.
We made Yankton just before five, and dashed into the Post Office. There was no mail, and just as we turned to leave, they shut the gates over the windows and closed the post office down. We had just made it, but now we could ride on to Vermillion.
Unfortuanetly, our adrenaline crashed just outside Yankton, so we really had to push the last thirty miles, but we rolled in victorious. 135 miles, damn.
No pictures from today. All we did was ride - hard and fast.
We had some punk teenagers mess with us in the middle of the night. It was shortly after I had fallen asleep. They came over stood around our tent and just started screaming. Amanda saw them walk up, so she realized what was happening, but I woke up terrified that we were being attacked, and was halfway out of the tent before I understood what was happening. You are charming Platte, particularly your library, but your children have nothing to do.
When the bored teens left a storm blew in. It was a big one to. Rain blew in under the fly and the tent was like a sail, but we stayed reasonably dry and when the howling died down we caught a few hours sleep.
The storm did finally switch the winds. They were blowing hard out of the Northwest this morning bringing in cold air from Canada. So, it was a perfect day of riding. We had 15-20mph winds to our backs with highs in the mid-70's. We flew down the road for 135 miles. Yes, 135 miles in one day. It was amazing.
Our goal was 105 to Yankton, but at lunch, roughly 50 miles in, we figured that if we made Yankton by 5pm, to check the mail, we could push on to Vermillion. It was going to be close so we rode hard.
We made Yankton just before five, and dashed into the Post Office. There was no mail, and just as we turned to leave, they shut the gates over the windows and closed the post office down. We had just made it, but now we could ride on to Vermillion.
Unfortuanetly, our adrenaline crashed just outside Yankton, so we really had to push the last thirty miles, but we rolled in victorious. 135 miles, damn.
No pictures from today. All we did was ride - hard and fast.
Day 35 Chamberlain, SD to Platte, SD
2007.4 miles
2000 miles!!! It seems like only yesterday we were celebrating one thousand and wondering if we would make it to 2000 or die trying. We are definetly getting stronger both in mind and body, more capable of facing the myriad challenges of this adventure and having a great time again.
On our way to camp last night we met three more cyclists from New York. The tent area at the city park in Chamberlain was home to six cyclists for the night, and in the past two days we've met six other people who are riding. None of them have been riding our route, we've all just converged by coincidence.
I forgot this in yesterday's post, but we met a guy just before the Pit Stop on his way West. He told us about the Pit Stop, and about how he had stopped at another gas station on the 111 degree day only to his bottles filled with antifreeze tainted water. After which, he rode through the heat anoter 30 miles with one emergency bottle, and was literally saved from dehydration by the people at the Pit Stop. Wicked bad luck. We also met a cyclist from Germany at Fort Thompson yesterday making his way from Minneapolis to Vancouver.
Back to the present. We started our day with coffee and caramel rolls at the Anchor Cafe. I've never seen caramel rolls before, apparently its a Western thing. It's a cinnamon roll covered in caramel sauce, and these had pecans on top. They are amazing. Someone in charge of the sweet pastry industry needs to read this and bring caramel rolls to Missouri.
Unfortuanetly, our coffee and caramel rolls got us a late start. It was nice riding with a gentle breezes and great terrain, but by the time we rolled into Platte it was getting late. We were going to continue on, but needed a break from the heat so we had the best pie of the trip (Shorty's Cafe - Platte, SD) and ducked into the library. We ended up closing down the library and then chatting with the wonderful librarian, Anita, for over an hour. At which point, it was too late to move on. Anita told us that camping was allowed in the city park, so we went and setup camp.
Across the street from the library in Platte is the Barrister Lounge. I couldn't pass that up. So, I went and had a couple Leinenkugels and listened to the locals talk about the harvest and baseball. There was very little discussion of jurisprudence.
2000 miles!!! It seems like only yesterday we were celebrating one thousand and wondering if we would make it to 2000 or die trying. We are definetly getting stronger both in mind and body, more capable of facing the myriad challenges of this adventure and having a great time again.
On our way to camp last night we met three more cyclists from New York. The tent area at the city park in Chamberlain was home to six cyclists for the night, and in the past two days we've met six other people who are riding. None of them have been riding our route, we've all just converged by coincidence.
I forgot this in yesterday's post, but we met a guy just before the Pit Stop on his way West. He told us about the Pit Stop, and about how he had stopped at another gas station on the 111 degree day only to his bottles filled with antifreeze tainted water. After which, he rode through the heat anoter 30 miles with one emergency bottle, and was literally saved from dehydration by the people at the Pit Stop. Wicked bad luck. We also met a cyclist from Germany at Fort Thompson yesterday making his way from Minneapolis to Vancouver.
Back to the present. We started our day with coffee and caramel rolls at the Anchor Cafe. I've never seen caramel rolls before, apparently its a Western thing. It's a cinnamon roll covered in caramel sauce, and these had pecans on top. They are amazing. Someone in charge of the sweet pastry industry needs to read this and bring caramel rolls to Missouri.
Unfortuanetly, our coffee and caramel rolls got us a late start. It was nice riding with a gentle breezes and great terrain, but by the time we rolled into Platte it was getting late. We were going to continue on, but needed a break from the heat so we had the best pie of the trip (Shorty's Cafe - Platte, SD) and ducked into the library. We ended up closing down the library and then chatting with the wonderful librarian, Anita, for over an hour. At which point, it was too late to move on. Anita told us that camping was allowed in the city park, so we went and setup camp.
Across the street from the library in Platte is the Barrister Lounge. I couldn't pass that up. So, I went and had a couple Leinenkugels and listened to the locals talk about the harvest and baseball. There was very little discussion of jurisprudence.
Day 34 Pierre, SD to Chamberlain, SD
1956.6 miles
I think Pat is always an early riser, no matter his attempts to sleep in. He showed up ready to ride while we were still eating breakfast. We, however, were moving slow because we didn't sleep last night. It was 81 degrees at 1am when it threatened to storm on us. No storm, but the winds did howl all night long. So, we were a little stumbly and bleary eyed emerging into the world.
The system that blew through last night was supposed to shift the winds, so that they blew out of the northwest, but it didn't. So, the three of us rode off into the wind, which is significantly less romantic than riding off into the sunset.
We had a long slow morning crawling into the wind with frequent stops. Took lunch at a place off the map called the Pit Stop where the entire community gathers through the day from the surrounding fields. The proprietor heaps abuse on everyone, but it is clear that she is also looking out for all her customers, when she's not vacationing in Egypt.
Eventually we made it to Fort Thompson, and headed South cathcing the breeze behind us. The ride into Chamberlain had to big hills, but at the top of the second hill was a gorgeous view of the river, and then a great view of town. I like the hills in the Dakotas because your effort pays off. Not only did we get a great bit of scenery, but we were welcomed to Chamberlain with a long fast descent into town. Glorious.
I think Pat is always an early riser, no matter his attempts to sleep in. He showed up ready to ride while we were still eating breakfast. We, however, were moving slow because we didn't sleep last night. It was 81 degrees at 1am when it threatened to storm on us. No storm, but the winds did howl all night long. So, we were a little stumbly and bleary eyed emerging into the world.
The system that blew through last night was supposed to shift the winds, so that they blew out of the northwest, but it didn't. So, the three of us rode off into the wind, which is significantly less romantic than riding off into the sunset.
We had a long slow morning crawling into the wind with frequent stops. Took lunch at a place off the map called the Pit Stop where the entire community gathers through the day from the surrounding fields. The proprietor heaps abuse on everyone, but it is clear that she is also looking out for all her customers, when she's not vacationing in Egypt.
Eventually we made it to Fort Thompson, and headed South cathcing the breeze behind us. The ride into Chamberlain had to big hills, but at the top of the second hill was a gorgeous view of the river, and then a great view of town. I like the hills in the Dakotas because your effort pays off. Not only did we get a great bit of scenery, but we were welcomed to Chamberlain with a long fast descent into town. Glorious.
Day 33 Pierre, SD
1876.3 miles
So, we rode six miles today. We didn't leave Pierre, obviously. We needed a day off, maybe I said that in the last post, but at any rate it was 111 degrees yesterday in South Dakota, which in my book is too hot to ride. Its dangerous when its that hot, and if this trip is about anything, it is not about getting heat stroke and passing out on the side of the road in rural South Dakota. I know my mother will appreciate that sentiment.
To beat the heat we spent 3 hours in the library, and another 4 hours in Country Kitchen before setting up camp after dark in the city park. While at Country Kitchen we met another cyclist named Pat who is making his way to Delaware from Oregon. He had been riding with his daughter, but she had to fly back to NYC to film a movie. She's an actress. We may ride with him tomorrow if he wakes up early enough.
So, we rode six miles today. We didn't leave Pierre, obviously. We needed a day off, maybe I said that in the last post, but at any rate it was 111 degrees yesterday in South Dakota, which in my book is too hot to ride. Its dangerous when its that hot, and if this trip is about anything, it is not about getting heat stroke and passing out on the side of the road in rural South Dakota. I know my mother will appreciate that sentiment.
To beat the heat we spent 3 hours in the library, and another 4 hours in Country Kitchen before setting up camp after dark in the city park. While at Country Kitchen we met another cyclist named Pat who is making his way to Delaware from Oregon. He had been riding with his daughter, but she had to fly back to NYC to film a movie. She's an actress. We may ride with him tomorrow if he wakes up early enough.
Monday, July 9, 2007
July 23rd - Mark Your Calendars
It's partytime, almost.
We've laid out our itinerary, and can say with reasonable confidence that we will arrive at Cooper's Landing, near Columbia, on July 23rd at roughly 5:00pm. We would love to see any and all of your smiling faces there for beer and thai food by the river, and to celebrate our return to Missouri. We will be camping at the landing, and you are welcome to join us for camping as well and then see us, and with luck Adam Campbell, off on the last three days of our journey. If all works out we will then pass the torch to Adam who will continue on to Virginia (and by torch I mean one awesome unicorn folder for the making of important/life altering decisions).
For those of you who can't make Cooper's, who live in or around St. Louis, or who can't get enough of the good times we will be arriving at our final destination, the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center in Hartford, IL, on the 26th of July in the early evening, probably between six and seven. You are welcome to welcome us there as well.
We like to feel welcome.
We hope to see you all soon.
We've laid out our itinerary, and can say with reasonable confidence that we will arrive at Cooper's Landing, near Columbia, on July 23rd at roughly 5:00pm. We would love to see any and all of your smiling faces there for beer and thai food by the river, and to celebrate our return to Missouri. We will be camping at the landing, and you are welcome to join us for camping as well and then see us, and with luck Adam Campbell, off on the last three days of our journey. If all works out we will then pass the torch to Adam who will continue on to Virginia (and by torch I mean one awesome unicorn folder for the making of important/life altering decisions).
For those of you who can't make Cooper's, who live in or around St. Louis, or who can't get enough of the good times we will be arriving at our final destination, the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center in Hartford, IL, on the 26th of July in the early evening, probably between six and seven. You are welcome to welcome us there as well.
We like to feel welcome.
We hope to see you all soon.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
For your viewing pleasure
New posts. Updated Itinerary. And.....
Backposted pictures. That's right, there are now pictures attached to every post, so you can go back and look at the beginning of the trip that you where here-to-fore denied.
Enjoy.
Backposted pictures. That's right, there are now pictures attached to every post, so you can go back and look at the beginning of the trip that you where here-to-fore denied.
Enjoy.
Day 32 Akasa, SD to Pierre, SD
1865.7 miles
We were expecting packages this morning, so we had to wait for the Post Office to open. With all that time we had a leisurely breakfast at the Bait Shop, and took our precious time packing things up. We haven't done that for a week or so. We used to take really nice, relaxing mornings, but the heat and the bugs have started lighting a fire under us when we crawl out of the tent in the morning.
Unfortuanetly, the slow morning, while enjoyable, made for a tough day. We ended up getting out around 10:30 as the heat was setting and and the wind was whipping up out of the Southeast, or into our faces. My stomach sinks. Another day into the wind. It brings back these horrible memories of Eastern, MT.
So, when we got into Pierre at 9pm we decided that 16 days of solid riding without a day off was enough. We got a hotel room and decided to kick it in Pierre for a day. What luck, the Mexican restaurant next door was one of the best I've ever eaten at, and Cartoon Network was running a Family Guy marathon.
Heaven.
We were expecting packages this morning, so we had to wait for the Post Office to open. With all that time we had a leisurely breakfast at the Bait Shop, and took our precious time packing things up. We haven't done that for a week or so. We used to take really nice, relaxing mornings, but the heat and the bugs have started lighting a fire under us when we crawl out of the tent in the morning.
Unfortuanetly, the slow morning, while enjoyable, made for a tough day. We ended up getting out around 10:30 as the heat was setting and and the wind was whipping up out of the Southeast, or into our faces. My stomach sinks. Another day into the wind. It brings back these horrible memories of Eastern, MT.
So, when we got into Pierre at 9pm we decided that 16 days of solid riding without a day off was enough. We got a hotel room and decided to kick it in Pierre for a day. What luck, the Mexican restaurant next door was one of the best I've ever eaten at, and Cartoon Network was running a Family Guy marathon.
Heaven.
Day 31 Pollock, SD to Akaska, SD
1785.1 miles
Oh, the bottle rockets ceaseless clamor, Avril Lavigne on the loudspeaker, kept us up all night, but the flag was still there.
Luckily, the riding between Pollock and Akaska was superb. More gently rolling hills of wheat and grass under a blue sky, mild temps on the bike, and the wind to our backs.
For lunch we rolled into the cutest small town we've hit yet, Mobridge, SD. They have a glorious park with shade trees, lush grass, flowers, and a fountain. We haven't really seen much verdant green for some time. We had lunch under a tree on the grass, and nice gentleman brought us sodas and watermelon after talking to us about our trip. Then we lay in the shade and napped.
It was hard leave Mobridge, it's park, and the grocery store that smelled of fresh baking bread behind, but to stay would have meant a very long day to Pierre. So, we took some bad local advice on route choice and headed out of town.
After 10 miles of gravel road we crested a hill to see all of Akaska laid out before our eyes - two paved roads, and six total blocks. There's only one paved road into Akasa, and the post office is only open from 10:00am to 10:30am, if the carrier shows up on time.
We ended up camping next to the campground hosts RV because it was the only shade in the campsite, and got a couple free beers and some peanuts before the past couple days caught up with us and we fell asleep on the grass.
Oh, the bottle rockets ceaseless clamor, Avril Lavigne on the loudspeaker, kept us up all night, but the flag was still there.
Luckily, the riding between Pollock and Akaska was superb. More gently rolling hills of wheat and grass under a blue sky, mild temps on the bike, and the wind to our backs.
For lunch we rolled into the cutest small town we've hit yet, Mobridge, SD. They have a glorious park with shade trees, lush grass, flowers, and a fountain. We haven't really seen much verdant green for some time. We had lunch under a tree on the grass, and nice gentleman brought us sodas and watermelon after talking to us about our trip. Then we lay in the shade and napped.
It was hard leave Mobridge, it's park, and the grocery store that smelled of fresh baking bread behind, but to stay would have meant a very long day to Pierre. So, we took some bad local advice on route choice and headed out of town.
After 10 miles of gravel road we crested a hill to see all of Akaska laid out before our eyes - two paved roads, and six total blocks. There's only one paved road into Akasa, and the post office is only open from 10:00am to 10:30am, if the carrier shows up on time.
We ended up camping next to the campground hosts RV because it was the only shade in the campsite, and got a couple free beers and some peanuts before the past couple days caught up with us and we fell asleep on the grass.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Day 30 Bismarck, ND to Pollock, SD
Today was a beautiful day of riding on SR1804. The hills were rolling and covered in fields of wheat and grass. The sky was blue. The temperatures were nice for most of the day. This is the model of a great day of touring (take note, Montana)!
We were also witness to a migration of tiny frogs. When we pulled over for our first stop of the day, there were hundreds of frogs no bigger than the end of my thumb slowly emerging from the grass and dispersing in every direction. Off to populate the puddles and ponds of North Dakota.
We stopped for lunch at a farm on the side of the rode to get some shade. There is basically nothing between Bismarck and Pollock on the road we were riding. We were going to knock and ask permission to sit in the shade, but it was just a collection of farm buildings, no farm house. So, we squatted for an hour and ate lunch in the shade overlooking the river/lake below us. Lake Oahe reflects the blue of the sky, so it looks turquoise from a distance.
10 miles before Pollock we rode out of North Dakota and into South Dakota. Great Face. Great Places.
We were also witness to a migration of tiny frogs. When we pulled over for our first stop of the day, there were hundreds of frogs no bigger than the end of my thumb slowly emerging from the grass and dispersing in every direction. Off to populate the puddles and ponds of North Dakota.
We stopped for lunch at a farm on the side of the rode to get some shade. There is basically nothing between Bismarck and Pollock on the road we were riding. We were going to knock and ask permission to sit in the shade, but it was just a collection of farm buildings, no farm house. So, we squatted for an hour and ate lunch in the shade overlooking the river/lake below us. Lake Oahe reflects the blue of the sky, so it looks turquoise from a distance.
10 miles before Pollock we rode out of North Dakota and into South Dakota. Great Face. Great Places.
Day 29 Garrison, ND to Bismarck, ND
1630.2 miles
Being in a house is nice, even when it is a strangers house. Maybe we are getting a little road weary. We managed to wake up early this morning and hit the road by eight. We've been talking about it for weeks as the days have gotten hotter, but hadn't yet actually pulled it off. We tend to drag a bit in the morning, enjoy the rising hours.
Joanne gave us a tip that rather than two days on SR1804 we could, it was only seventy miles to Bismark if we took US83, so we did. We flew down the highway with it's mild grades and the wind at our back. We made it into Bismarck early rode by the state capitol. It is the ugliest state capitol I've seen. It looks like an office building built in 1972. Maybe it was. Bismarck as a whole was not that good to us. It isn't laid out in a way that makes a lot of sense, or maybe we are just used to rolling into small towns where you can't help but find all of the necessary services. We ended up spending a lot of time running errands in Bismarck and didn't get out of town until late.
On our way to the library we rode by the scene of an accident. A guy on a motor cycle had been hit by a truck. He was still on the cycle pinned down by the other vehicle and yelling in pain. We stopped, but someone was already on the phone with 911 and emergency crews were on their way, so there was nothing we could do to help. It was a somewhat traumatizing experience. I was really shaken up. Amanda said that riding up to that scene confirmed for her that she wanted to get EMT certified. But, it also reminded me of how vulnerable we are out here on our bikes.
Well, that was kind of a down way to end a post. So, here are some pictures from the North Dakota Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center. I don't know how to rotate the one, so if anybody can tell me how to do that from blogger send an email, si.webster@gmail.com, and I'll fix it.
Being in a house is nice, even when it is a strangers house. Maybe we are getting a little road weary. We managed to wake up early this morning and hit the road by eight. We've been talking about it for weeks as the days have gotten hotter, but hadn't yet actually pulled it off. We tend to drag a bit in the morning, enjoy the rising hours.
Joanne gave us a tip that rather than two days on SR1804 we could, it was only seventy miles to Bismark if we took US83, so we did. We flew down the highway with it's mild grades and the wind at our back. We made it into Bismarck early rode by the state capitol. It is the ugliest state capitol I've seen. It looks like an office building built in 1972. Maybe it was. Bismarck as a whole was not that good to us. It isn't laid out in a way that makes a lot of sense, or maybe we are just used to rolling into small towns where you can't help but find all of the necessary services. We ended up spending a lot of time running errands in Bismarck and didn't get out of town until late.
On our way to the library we rode by the scene of an accident. A guy on a motor cycle had been hit by a truck. He was still on the cycle pinned down by the other vehicle and yelling in pain. We stopped, but someone was already on the phone with 911 and emergency crews were on their way, so there was nothing we could do to help. It was a somewhat traumatizing experience. I was really shaken up. Amanda said that riding up to that scene confirmed for her that she wanted to get EMT certified. But, it also reminded me of how vulnerable we are out here on our bikes.
Well, that was kind of a down way to end a post. So, here are some pictures from the North Dakota Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center. I don't know how to rotate the one, so if anybody can tell me how to do that from blogger send an email, si.webster@gmail.com, and I'll fix it.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Updates
The intinerary is updated, and so are the post offices. No pictures this time, but I'll try to post some for these days at the next stop. No promises, pictures are hard.
Day 28 New Town, ND to Garrison, ND
1543 miles
A day of trials.
My tire is trash. Though I could maybe put it back together with some rubber cement and ingenuity, but no luck. my little patch job got us 10 miles down the road to Parshall, where I had to change it lest I tempt fate. Putting it all back together my deraileur was messed up, so had to fix that. Finally got out of Parshall around noon, made it about 15 miles and had a blow out. Turns out my spare tire has a big hole in the side of it. Luckily, Amanda had a trick she learned from a friend who races road bikes. You can protect your tube by putt a folded dollar bill over the whole in your tire.
That got us to Garrison, but it was a long slow day. We didn't eat lunch until 3pm, and were exhausted 20 miles out. We were supposed to ride on another 9 miles to camp, but Amanda said we should go ask the Bed and Breakfast if we could camp in their yard. So we did.
Joanne, the owner of the Bed and Breakfast who sounds just like Marge from Fargo, graciously let us camp. She also let us shower, fix dinner on her stove, eat in her kitchen, watch The Family Guy - much needed laughs after today - and sleep on her floor when we got stormed out of our tent in the middle of the night. Such generosity. Such hospitality.
Thanks Joanne. If you don't sell it, we'll send everyone we know going through North Dakota your way.
A day of trials.
My tire is trash. Though I could maybe put it back together with some rubber cement and ingenuity, but no luck. my little patch job got us 10 miles down the road to Parshall, where I had to change it lest I tempt fate. Putting it all back together my deraileur was messed up, so had to fix that. Finally got out of Parshall around noon, made it about 15 miles and had a blow out. Turns out my spare tire has a big hole in the side of it. Luckily, Amanda had a trick she learned from a friend who races road bikes. You can protect your tube by putt a folded dollar bill over the whole in your tire.
That got us to Garrison, but it was a long slow day. We didn't eat lunch until 3pm, and were exhausted 20 miles out. We were supposed to ride on another 9 miles to camp, but Amanda said we should go ask the Bed and Breakfast if we could camp in their yard. So we did.
Joanne, the owner of the Bed and Breakfast who sounds just like Marge from Fargo, graciously let us camp. She also let us shower, fix dinner on her stove, eat in her kitchen, watch The Family Guy - much needed laughs after today - and sleep on her floor when we got stormed out of our tent in the middle of the night. Such generosity. Such hospitality.
Thanks Joanne. If you don't sell it, we'll send everyone we know going through North Dakota your way.
Day 27 Williston, ND to New Town, ND
1470.4 miles
There is wind again, but it's not as bad. It's not a direct headwind, and it isn't blowing as hard. Getting away from Williston - which was more like the oil towns of Eastern Montana, depressing - North Dakot is really beautiful. The hills actually roll here. I don't know what they do in Montana, goose step maybe?
The fields are planted in alfalfa and what I think is heather. So, amongst the green of corn, beets, or grain are patches of yellow and purple. It is a welcome break from the high plains/desert/ranchland we've been in for a week or more. It feels lush, verdant, and alive.
We also escaped the mosquitoes once we got away from Williston. Well, maybe not escaped, but they are manageable now.
We got into New Town, had some ice cream and we're going to ride 9 miles on to the camping at the recreation area when I discovered that I had a 9 inch gash down the center of my tire and the tread was peeling away from the casing. The Specialized Armadillo tires do not come recommended. I'm the third person I know of who this has happened to. I went in for some super glue and duct tape to see if I could get it to hold together til camp, but while I was working on it Amanda got us a lift from two young guys with a truck named Matthew and Joe. They build concrete grain elevators, and were out looking for some good fishing, but were kind enough to give us a lift out of their way to camp. As Joe said, "If it wasn't for the kindness of strangers, none of this would've been built."
There is wind again, but it's not as bad. It's not a direct headwind, and it isn't blowing as hard. Getting away from Williston - which was more like the oil towns of Eastern Montana, depressing - North Dakot is really beautiful. The hills actually roll here. I don't know what they do in Montana, goose step maybe?
The fields are planted in alfalfa and what I think is heather. So, amongst the green of corn, beets, or grain are patches of yellow and purple. It is a welcome break from the high plains/desert/ranchland we've been in for a week or more. It feels lush, verdant, and alive.
We also escaped the mosquitoes once we got away from Williston. Well, maybe not escaped, but they are manageable now.
We got into New Town, had some ice cream and we're going to ride 9 miles on to the camping at the recreation area when I discovered that I had a 9 inch gash down the center of my tire and the tread was peeling away from the casing. The Specialized Armadillo tires do not come recommended. I'm the third person I know of who this has happened to. I went in for some super glue and duct tape to see if I could get it to hold together til camp, but while I was working on it Amanda got us a lift from two young guys with a truck named Matthew and Joe. They build concrete grain elevators, and were out looking for some good fishing, but were kind enough to give us a lift out of their way to camp. As Joe said, "If it wasn't for the kindness of strangers, none of this would've been built."
Day 26 Sidney, MT to Williston, ND
1391.9 miles
We were going to cut across the Badlands of North Dakota to Theodore Roosevelt National Park today, but the weather is supposed to turn nasty on us, and we don't have good maps of that area, so we decided to catch our route again and head to Williston.
12 miles out of Sidney we left Montana behind, hopefully forever. That's not true. Everything West of Roger's pass was delightful and gorgeous. Eastern Montana, however, is dead to me.
We stopped at the Fort Buford historic site on the way. Fort Buford is the location where Sitting Bull finally surrendered to the United States Army. Amanda snuck in on half the tour and learned about half the lives of soldiers garrisoned at Fort Buford. I'm told they had a very impressive meat cutter. I went down to look at the confluence of the Missouri and Yellowstone Rivers. We were going to picnic at a site overlooking the confluence, but we walked into a cloud of hundreds of mosquitoes and had to high tail it out of there.
Unfortuanetly, the mosquitoes caught up with us in Williston. They were everywhere. In the stores. In the laundromat. On the Streets. In the campground you couldn't stand still without have 10 land on you and start biting.
We are happy to be in North Dakota, but if this is our welcome to the plains, it's going to be a tough ride home.
We were going to cut across the Badlands of North Dakota to Theodore Roosevelt National Park today, but the weather is supposed to turn nasty on us, and we don't have good maps of that area, so we decided to catch our route again and head to Williston.
12 miles out of Sidney we left Montana behind, hopefully forever. That's not true. Everything West of Roger's pass was delightful and gorgeous. Eastern Montana, however, is dead to me.
We stopped at the Fort Buford historic site on the way. Fort Buford is the location where Sitting Bull finally surrendered to the United States Army. Amanda snuck in on half the tour and learned about half the lives of soldiers garrisoned at Fort Buford. I'm told they had a very impressive meat cutter. I went down to look at the confluence of the Missouri and Yellowstone Rivers. We were going to picnic at a site overlooking the confluence, but we walked into a cloud of hundreds of mosquitoes and had to high tail it out of there.
Unfortuanetly, the mosquitoes caught up with us in Williston. They were everywhere. In the stores. In the laundromat. On the Streets. In the campground you couldn't stand still without have 10 land on you and start biting.
We are happy to be in North Dakota, but if this is our welcome to the plains, it's going to be a tough ride home.
Day 25 Circle, MT to Sidney, MT
1336.3 miles
The wind will never halt. It only gets stronger. The terrain will never be flat. The hills only get steeper. These are the only things I am sure of in life at this moment. The howling my ears has called everything else into question. Which, is exactly how I felt when we stopped at a bar in some tiny little town whose name has been driven from my head.
I didn't know if we would make the last 20 miles to Sidney. We stopped once, about 5 miles out at the top of a big climb, and then we beat it. We beat the wind. We won the mental game. It took three days of incessant monotony, but those last 15 miles it was like Zen. We just rode.
When we got into town, our bodies were pretty wiped out from three days and 170 miles of climbing and fighting. So, we got a hotel room. We showered and watched Drop Dead Gorgeous, which was exactly what we needed to lift our spirits.
We also ate at Taco Johns. When we were Freshman on the way to a punk rock show in Kansas City we saw a Taco Johns billboard with the Slogan "A Whole Lot of Mexican," which is hilarious. So, we vowed that we would stop and eat at Taco Johns someday, and now 7 years later we've finally done it. It's not spectacular. It's fast food. But, we had fun.
When we stopped in Ritchey today we got mascots for our bikes. Amanda's is a unicorn named Ruthy Dee and mine is a Liger named Rheinhard the Indomitable.
The wind will never halt. It only gets stronger. The terrain will never be flat. The hills only get steeper. These are the only things I am sure of in life at this moment. The howling my ears has called everything else into question. Which, is exactly how I felt when we stopped at a bar in some tiny little town whose name has been driven from my head.
I didn't know if we would make the last 20 miles to Sidney. We stopped once, about 5 miles out at the top of a big climb, and then we beat it. We beat the wind. We won the mental game. It took three days of incessant monotony, but those last 15 miles it was like Zen. We just rode.
When we got into town, our bodies were pretty wiped out from three days and 170 miles of climbing and fighting. So, we got a hotel room. We showered and watched Drop Dead Gorgeous, which was exactly what we needed to lift our spirits.
We also ate at Taco Johns. When we were Freshman on the way to a punk rock show in Kansas City we saw a Taco Johns billboard with the Slogan "A Whole Lot of Mexican," which is hilarious. So, we vowed that we would stop and eat at Taco Johns someday, and now 7 years later we've finally done it. It's not spectacular. It's fast food. But, we had fun.
When we stopped in Ritchey today we got mascots for our bikes. Amanda's is a unicorn named Ruthy Dee and mine is a Liger named Rheinhard the Indomitable.
Day 24 Jordan, MT to Circle, MT
1257.9 miles
The wind, the wind, the horror. More wind. More hills. It's blowing harder today, and the hills are getting bigger, and we're riding more miles. It's is a defeating day.
We've got the legs. We've got the power and the stamina. But, the wind plays with your mind. It gets into your head and wrecks up the place. It will destroy your morale and make you crazy if you let it. So, we spend the whole day trying to think of things to occupy our minds, keep the wind out.
Then, in the afternoon we stop at a roadside bar to get away from. Have a Budweiser, dull the crazies for a few minutes. If we're lucky they have the local paper, and we can read the comics before we head out for the last 12 grueling miles.
The wind, the wind, the horror. More wind. More hills. It's blowing harder today, and the hills are getting bigger, and we're riding more miles. It's is a defeating day.
We've got the legs. We've got the power and the stamina. But, the wind plays with your mind. It gets into your head and wrecks up the place. It will destroy your morale and make you crazy if you let it. So, we spend the whole day trying to think of things to occupy our minds, keep the wind out.
Then, in the afternoon we stop at a roadside bar to get away from. Have a Budweiser, dull the crazies for a few minutes. If we're lucky they have the local paper, and we can read the comics before we head out for the last 12 grueling miles.
Day 23 Sand Springs, MT to Jordan, MT
1189.7 miles
We met some nice ranchers at the Sand Springs Post Office/Store last night. They're from Wyoming and are looking to buy some land in this area, though I'm not sure they even know why. They certainly didn't seem very keen on the landscape, though it's a tough landscape to get worked up about. We saw them again today at the library, sort of. After we got into town, we saw their truck at the bar, so Amanda left a note saying that if they were headed East (our direction) they should come talk to the cyclists at the library. They came to say hello, but they weren't going out direction, so we bid them farewell.
Yes, we were going to hitch a ride. They were awfully nice folks, and seemed like they'd make good company for the hour it would take to move on to the next town by car, a days ride for us. But, we didn't. We stuck it out.
We were gonna hitch a ride because today was 32 miles into a direct headwind up and over the coulies of Eastern Montana. It was hell. And the thought of a soft seat and an hours travel to our next stop was a little overwhelming. But, instead of a ride we got a lunch that was entirely fried and pie. It was delicious, but goes on the list of worst ideas we've had yet. Amanda had bacon, I had a grilled cheese with french fries, and we ordered this appetizer that was deep fried vegetables, cheese sticks, onion peels, and fried potato cheese nuggets - oh, and ranch for dipping.
Our bodies will never be the same.
We met some nice ranchers at the Sand Springs Post Office/Store last night. They're from Wyoming and are looking to buy some land in this area, though I'm not sure they even know why. They certainly didn't seem very keen on the landscape, though it's a tough landscape to get worked up about. We saw them again today at the library, sort of. After we got into town, we saw their truck at the bar, so Amanda left a note saying that if they were headed East (our direction) they should come talk to the cyclists at the library. They came to say hello, but they weren't going out direction, so we bid them farewell.
Yes, we were going to hitch a ride. They were awfully nice folks, and seemed like they'd make good company for the hour it would take to move on to the next town by car, a days ride for us. But, we didn't. We stuck it out.
We were gonna hitch a ride because today was 32 miles into a direct headwind up and over the coulies of Eastern Montana. It was hell. And the thought of a soft seat and an hours travel to our next stop was a little overwhelming. But, instead of a ride we got a lunch that was entirely fried and pie. It was delicious, but goes on the list of worst ideas we've had yet. Amanda had bacon, I had a grilled cheese with french fries, and we ordered this appetizer that was deep fried vegetables, cheese sticks, onion peels, and fried potato cheese nuggets - oh, and ranch for dipping.
Our bodies will never be the same.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Day 22 Lewistown, MT to Sand Springs, MT
1156.5 miles
We had to cross some more mountains today. I don't know where they keep coming from, but if we cross a mountain range in Nebraska, I'm gonna lose it. Today it was the Judith Mountains, and the crossing was pretty tame. People tell us that was the last major climb, but I'm prepared not to believe anything anyone tells me at this point.
We did hit some flats after we left the Judiths, and we managed to cruise pretty fast the 80 miles to our camping spot, which was supposed to be behind a bed and breakfast. We both had visions of some cute old place out on the range, with lots of trees, and french toast in the morning. Instead we got a nasty climb up a gravel road to somebody's ranch house built in 1982, with biting flies, and nobody was home. It was a pretty weird setup, so we threw back some calories and prepared for our first century.
Twenty more miles to Sand Springs. There's no population for Sand Springs or a sign. I think the population is one. There is a store/post office and an old woman lives next to the store/post office. She unlocked a bathroom for us and gave me the granola from my mom. We sat in the rocking chairs out front of the store as the sun went down and camped out back to the sounds of the coyotes and sheep.
We had to cross some more mountains today. I don't know where they keep coming from, but if we cross a mountain range in Nebraska, I'm gonna lose it. Today it was the Judith Mountains, and the crossing was pretty tame. People tell us that was the last major climb, but I'm prepared not to believe anything anyone tells me at this point.
We did hit some flats after we left the Judiths, and we managed to cruise pretty fast the 80 miles to our camping spot, which was supposed to be behind a bed and breakfast. We both had visions of some cute old place out on the range, with lots of trees, and french toast in the morning. Instead we got a nasty climb up a gravel road to somebody's ranch house built in 1982, with biting flies, and nobody was home. It was a pretty weird setup, so we threw back some calories and prepared for our first century.
Twenty more miles to Sand Springs. There's no population for Sand Springs or a sign. I think the population is one. There is a store/post office and an old woman lives next to the store/post office. She unlocked a bathroom for us and gave me the granola from my mom. We sat in the rocking chairs out front of the store as the sun went down and camped out back to the sounds of the coyotes and sheep.
Day 20 Denton, MT to Lewistown, MT
1052 miles
We got stormed on hard last night. We were sitting under a shelter in the Denton city park when the storm clouds started rolling in, and it was something to watch. Wind blowing in every direction, clouds moving over and under each other. But, we stayed dry in the tent and woke up to sunshine, briefly.
We had about an hour of sun, and then more storm clouds appeared on the horizon. We only had about 40 miles to go, so we jumped on our bikes and road as hard as we could to Lewistown. We passed some great scenery including more mountain ranges, but we had a purpose, and that was not to get soaked in a thunderstorm.
We managed to stay out ahead of the storm, and got sprinkled on a little. We made it to Lewiston tired, hungry, but dry.
In Lewistown, we stopped at a part time bike shop called High Plains Bike and Ski. The owner, Mark, has a pretty great setup and is a meticulous mechanic. He works on bikes in the afternoon and drinks beer with his friends in his little garage shop. Then they go riding or skiing on the weekends. Some people just never grow up as Mark says.
We got stormed on hard last night. We were sitting under a shelter in the Denton city park when the storm clouds started rolling in, and it was something to watch. Wind blowing in every direction, clouds moving over and under each other. But, we stayed dry in the tent and woke up to sunshine, briefly.
We had about an hour of sun, and then more storm clouds appeared on the horizon. We only had about 40 miles to go, so we jumped on our bikes and road as hard as we could to Lewistown. We passed some great scenery including more mountain ranges, but we had a purpose, and that was not to get soaked in a thunderstorm.
We managed to stay out ahead of the storm, and got sprinkled on a little. We made it to Lewiston tired, hungry, but dry.
In Lewistown, we stopped at a part time bike shop called High Plains Bike and Ski. The owner, Mark, has a pretty great setup and is a meticulous mechanic. He works on bikes in the afternoon and drinks beer with his friends in his little garage shop. Then they go riding or skiing on the weekends. Some people just never grow up as Mark says.
Day 20 Fort Benton, MT to Denton, MT
1006.3 miles
We rode a thousand miles!!! We rode a thousand miles!!!
Wasn't sure we were gonna make it after the toil of the past few days, but things started looking up today.
We rode out of Fort Benton and spent most of the day passing between Square Butte and the Antelope Bluffs with the Highwood Mountains, yeah we found some more mountains out here, in the distance. It was quite beautiful and the weather was great for riding. So, we had a pleasant day, and as we were just outside of Denton, we finally got welcomed to the middle of nowhere. It's nice knowing we are finally here.
We rode a thousand miles!!! We rode a thousand miles!!!
Wasn't sure we were gonna make it after the toil of the past few days, but things started looking up today.
We rode out of Fort Benton and spent most of the day passing between Square Butte and the Antelope Bluffs with the Highwood Mountains, yeah we found some more mountains out here, in the distance. It was quite beautiful and the weather was great for riding. So, we had a pleasant day, and as we were just outside of Denton, we finally got welcomed to the middle of nowhere. It's nice knowing we are finally here.
Day 19 Great Falls, MT to Fort Benton, MT
941.9 miles
I'm pretty sure it was beautiful around us today, but all I remember are hills, pain, and sweat.
We got to Fort Benton and the Summer Festival was happening, so after we set up camp we went downtown to enjoy the festivities. Downtown we met Cousin Allen and Cousin Darryl (all of you from the country will know what I'm talking about) and they gave us a couple of beers. We stood and chatted for awhile until the conversation started going in circles because Cousin Darryl had drank so much he couldn't see straight.
So, we stole off to sit on a bridge over the tiny Missouri River and look out over Choteau Canyon. As dusk began to fall we had some fry bread, Amanda went to the street dance, and I found us a spot to watch the fireworks from.
I'm pretty sure it was beautiful around us today, but all I remember are hills, pain, and sweat.
We got to Fort Benton and the Summer Festival was happening, so after we set up camp we went downtown to enjoy the festivities. Downtown we met Cousin Allen and Cousin Darryl (all of you from the country will know what I'm talking about) and they gave us a couple of beers. We stood and chatted for awhile until the conversation started going in circles because Cousin Darryl had drank so much he couldn't see straight.
So, we stole off to sit on a bridge over the tiny Missouri River and look out over Choteau Canyon. As dusk began to fall we had some fry bread, Amanda went to the street dance, and I found us a spot to watch the fireworks from.
Day 18 Lincoln, MT to Great Falls, MT
886.4 miles
So, the early bird gets the worm, and the early cyclist gets a cool morning ride. Silas and Amanda get baked in the sun because they can't get out of bed before, well today before 9:30. Today was Roger's Pass, 5610 feet, our exit from the Rocky Mountains. We ate it for breakfast as promised in the zine. At the top we climbed up the Continental Divide Trail to get a good view of where we came from and where we are going. I thought I saw North Dakota.
Full of bravado and jive talk we flew down from the pass only to discover the foothills of Eastern Montana, or as we've come to call them The Rockies Revenge. Obviously the karmic balance sheet, or as Amanda refers to it The Clipboard Man, was watching us up there on top of the pass with our chests puffed up.
The foothills were brutal. Rather than a slow steady climb through the mountains it was hundreds of feet up and down, up and down, up and down - but never enough down for the up. We stopped at a roadside bar called Bowman's Corner, which makes the short list of things to see in Eastern Montana, and drank iced tea til we felt brave enough to ride again. Then, we headed out and went up and down....
During the last eight miles into Great Falls as the sun was setting we saw a dog get hit by a car. It was incredibly sad, and we felt completely powerless. No one to call, no way to transport the little guy, and dusk threatening behind us. So, we stopped at the first house we could find and let them know. They said they would call and have someone come pick the dog up, but it was hard to leave him behind and move on.
So, the early bird gets the worm, and the early cyclist gets a cool morning ride. Silas and Amanda get baked in the sun because they can't get out of bed before, well today before 9:30. Today was Roger's Pass, 5610 feet, our exit from the Rocky Mountains. We ate it for breakfast as promised in the zine. At the top we climbed up the Continental Divide Trail to get a good view of where we came from and where we are going. I thought I saw North Dakota.
Full of bravado and jive talk we flew down from the pass only to discover the foothills of Eastern Montana, or as we've come to call them The Rockies Revenge. Obviously the karmic balance sheet, or as Amanda refers to it The Clipboard Man, was watching us up there on top of the pass with our chests puffed up.
The foothills were brutal. Rather than a slow steady climb through the mountains it was hundreds of feet up and down, up and down, up and down - but never enough down for the up. We stopped at a roadside bar called Bowman's Corner, which makes the short list of things to see in Eastern Montana, and drank iced tea til we felt brave enough to ride again. Then, we headed out and went up and down....
During the last eight miles into Great Falls as the sun was setting we saw a dog get hit by a car. It was incredibly sad, and we felt completely powerless. No one to call, no way to transport the little guy, and dusk threatening behind us. So, we stopped at the first house we could find and let them know. They said they would call and have someone come pick the dog up, but it was hard to leave him behind and move on.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Day 17 Missoula, MT to Lincoln, MT
797.4 miles
Today was a long day on the road, 83 miles. We rode a beautiful stretch of State Highway 200 along the Blackfoot River and the up into alpine meadows and forests.
Stopped at a little town called Ovando and visited there great little town museum. They had a cross section of a tree that had stood in the town center since around the time Columbus sailed for the Americas (well before there was a town center), rules for riding the stage coach, and many other interesting things to see.
The last 27 miles to Lincoln were tough, but we made it and proceeded to get caught in a mountain thunderstorm while we were cooking dinner. We were lucky to have a pavilion nearby, though, and managed to take cover. Tomorrow we ride our last mountain pass, Rogers Pass 5,610 feet.
Today was a long day on the road, 83 miles. We rode a beautiful stretch of State Highway 200 along the Blackfoot River and the up into alpine meadows and forests.
Stopped at a little town called Ovando and visited there great little town museum. They had a cross section of a tree that had stood in the town center since around the time Columbus sailed for the Americas (well before there was a town center), rules for riding the stage coach, and many other interesting things to see.
The last 27 miles to Lincoln were tough, but we made it and proceeded to get caught in a mountain thunderstorm while we were cooking dinner. We were lucky to have a pavilion nearby, though, and managed to take cover. Tomorrow we ride our last mountain pass, Rogers Pass 5,610 feet.
Day 15 and 16
Missoula, MT
715.4 Miles
So, for two days we went nowhere. Well, not nowhere. We went to the bar, and nice restaurants, and Molly's porch, and the University of Montana - Library, and walking around downtown; but not much pedal time.
We woke up on the morning of Day 15 and said to ourselves, "This is nice. A roof over our heads, good conversations, and the beer flows like water in Missoula." So, we stayed. And, we got lazy. We took naps, went for long walks, drank beers with Molly, talked to Steffen. In essence we did none of the things necessary for us to leave town, for example, grocery shopping. So, on the night of Day 15, realizing we had a days worth of errands, we decided to stay again.
Day 16 was more productive. We did the shopping. We made the zine. (I hear some of you are complaining about the production schedule, and I will have you know this edition is 348.6 miles early. Thank you very much.) It went in the mail on Day 17, so you should have it in your hands soon. (I don't know what day of the month it is folks, or usually what day of the week. Time and distance have been completely warped on this trip, and given the weight of my bike maybe it is because I now constitute a super-massive object.) We also spent more time enjoy Missoula on Day 16, and gearing up for the ride out of the Rockies over Roger's pass.
Thanks to Molly and Steffen for their gracious hospitality.
715.4 Miles
So, for two days we went nowhere. Well, not nowhere. We went to the bar, and nice restaurants, and Molly's porch, and the University of Montana - Library, and walking around downtown; but not much pedal time.
We woke up on the morning of Day 15 and said to ourselves, "This is nice. A roof over our heads, good conversations, and the beer flows like water in Missoula." So, we stayed. And, we got lazy. We took naps, went for long walks, drank beers with Molly, talked to Steffen. In essence we did none of the things necessary for us to leave town, for example, grocery shopping. So, on the night of Day 15, realizing we had a days worth of errands, we decided to stay again.
Day 16 was more productive. We did the shopping. We made the zine. (I hear some of you are complaining about the production schedule, and I will have you know this edition is 348.6 miles early. Thank you very much.) It went in the mail on Day 17, so you should have it in your hands soon. (I don't know what day of the month it is folks, or usually what day of the week. Time and distance have been completely warped on this trip, and given the weight of my bike maybe it is because I now constitute a super-massive object.) We also spent more time enjoy Missoula on Day 16, and gearing up for the ride out of the Rockies over Roger's pass.
Thanks to Molly and Steffen for their gracious hospitality.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Etc.
I'll try to post some pictures from the first week when we get to Great Falls. At least on this computer it is a time consuming process to do pictures, and I've run out of time. I'll also post more post offices when we get to Great Falls in case anyone wants to write.
See you all in six weeks.
See you all in six weeks.
Day 14 Lolo Hot Springs to Missoula, MT
715.4 miles
It was still cold this morning, curse of the mountains. It wasn't far to Missoula though, and it was nearly all downhill. We got our first glimpse of a tall mountain, Lolo Peak, on our way down to Missoula, snow top and everything. We should get some great mountainviews over the next 4 days as we ride east to Great Falls, and then we leave the Rockies behind and head into the Great Plains.
We made great time and got in a little after noon. Our friend Molly, and her new roommate Steffen put Silas up for the night, and Amanda's friend Coy bought us dinner. Then Amanda and Coy went camping just outside of Missoula. Apparently Amanda can't get enough.
We spent the day relaxing, and taking care errands. It's nice to be in a city now and then. Good coffee. People.
Thanks to everyone who was super nice to us in Missoula.
It was still cold this morning, curse of the mountains. It wasn't far to Missoula though, and it was nearly all downhill. We got our first glimpse of a tall mountain, Lolo Peak, on our way down to Missoula, snow top and everything. We should get some great mountainviews over the next 4 days as we ride east to Great Falls, and then we leave the Rockies behind and head into the Great Plains.
We made great time and got in a little after noon. Our friend Molly, and her new roommate Steffen put Silas up for the night, and Amanda's friend Coy bought us dinner. Then Amanda and Coy went camping just outside of Missoula. Apparently Amanda can't get enough.
We spent the day relaxing, and taking care errands. It's nice to be in a city now and then. Good coffee. People.
Thanks to everyone who was super nice to us in Missoula.
Day 13 Powell Campground to Lolo Hot Springs
674.7 miles
It was cold this morning. Bitterly cold. Not the day I would have chosen to ride the pass, but I don't get to choose the weather. Part of being on a bike, I guess.
The first eight miles weren't bad except for the cold and the occassional rain. It was the same grade we've been riding for two days, but then suddenly at mile eight it got steep. The last five miles were a 5%-8% grade, or so I've been told. It definetly took a fair amount of resolve to keep heading up that mountain, but when we hit the top, and it was all done, it wasn't that bad. People had been making Lolo into an almost insurmountable obstacle for the past week, so it was a worse climb in our heads than it was on the pavement.
We were wet and cold when we reached the pass, but victorious. We warmed up in the visitors center at the top with some complimentary beverages and then steeled ourselves for a seven mile descent.
It was fast, very fast, and wet, and cold all over again. We had to stop at one point and put socks over our hands because neither of us has full finger gloves. It was worth it though because waiting at the bottom of the hill was a teepee to get us out of the wind and rain, and hot springs to soak our tire muscles.
We soaked. Then we drank beers in the lodge to celebrate. Lolo is done. It's all down hill from here, right?
It was cold this morning. Bitterly cold. Not the day I would have chosen to ride the pass, but I don't get to choose the weather. Part of being on a bike, I guess.
The first eight miles weren't bad except for the cold and the occassional rain. It was the same grade we've been riding for two days, but then suddenly at mile eight it got steep. The last five miles were a 5%-8% grade, or so I've been told. It definetly took a fair amount of resolve to keep heading up that mountain, but when we hit the top, and it was all done, it wasn't that bad. People had been making Lolo into an almost insurmountable obstacle for the past week, so it was a worse climb in our heads than it was on the pavement.
We were wet and cold when we reached the pass, but victorious. We warmed up in the visitors center at the top with some complimentary beverages and then steeled ourselves for a seven mile descent.
It was fast, very fast, and wet, and cold all over again. We had to stop at one point and put socks over our hands because neither of us has full finger gloves. It was worth it though because waiting at the bottom of the hill was a teepee to get us out of the wind and rain, and hot springs to soak our tire muscles.
We soaked. Then we drank beers in the lodge to celebrate. Lolo is done. It's all down hill from here, right?
Day 12 Wilderness Gateway Campground to Powell Campground
653.8 Miles
It was another beautiful day of riding - low grades, sun, the river growing wilder and more scenic all the time. We can tell that we are approaching the summitt because we can finally begin to see the small peaks around us, and are no longer deep in the river valley. We still haven't seen any big mountains, the kind with rocky tops and snow.
There isn't too much to say about a perfect day of riding. These are the days that make you savor the art of cycling and convince you that this was all a fabulous idea.
We met a fellow cyclist in camp tonight. He is on the Transamerica trail and is trying to catch up to his group after being out for a couple days with a broken wheel. He's been doing 80 and 90 mile days to catch them, and tomorrow he pushes over the pass and rides on to Missoula. But, he's a triathalon, well, nut. So, he's loving every minute of it. Best of luck Nathan!
It was another beautiful day of riding - low grades, sun, the river growing wilder and more scenic all the time. We can tell that we are approaching the summitt because we can finally begin to see the small peaks around us, and are no longer deep in the river valley. We still haven't seen any big mountains, the kind with rocky tops and snow.
There isn't too much to say about a perfect day of riding. These are the days that make you savor the art of cycling and convince you that this was all a fabulous idea.
We met a fellow cyclist in camp tonight. He is on the Transamerica trail and is trying to catch up to his group after being out for a couple days with a broken wheel. He's been doing 80 and 90 mile days to catch them, and tomorrow he pushes over the pass and rides on to Missoula. But, he's a triathalon, well, nut. So, he's loving every minute of it. Best of luck Nathan!
Day 11 Long Camp RV Park to Wilderness Gateway Campground
611.4 Miles
This morning we were still feeling the pain of several long days of riding, but after lunch we had warmed our muscles up, and through some miracle found a rhythm that felt really good. We've begun the climb to Lolo Pass, and we have roughly 1400 vertical feet a day to ride over the next three days. So, to compensate for the elevation gain we are shortening up our mileage. Today was about 60 miles, tomorrow should be about 40, and then the day we summit the pass should only be about 20 miles.
The terrain around us only gets more beautiful the more we ride into the mountains. There is no sign of the desert we left two days ago, and now everything is pine forest covered hills that grow and grow with every mile. A few miles out of camp we left the Clearwater for it's Middle Fork, and then at lunch the Middle Fork of the Clearwater became the Wild and Scenic Lochsa. We started to see our first whitewater on the Lochsa, and shortly thereafter our first rafters and kayakers. Luckily, the river keeps the road grade manageable because it would be hard to watch all those folks headed downstream if we were really toiling to go upstream. But, the riding is nice. A gentle incline, sun on our backs, and a cool mountain breeze.
Idaho definetly wins the prize for best campgrounds thus far. Tonight in camp there was a country and western jamboree. We went to watch for a few songs as a group of folks in there seventies and eighties gathere to play country music and dance the night away. They've been coming here twice a year for 27 years for this gathering. After the sun started to set and our bodies went in to sleep mode, we headed back to camp, but we didn't make it to bed. Instead we were enticed into the neighbors camp by free beers. Two kayakers from Jackson, WY, Bill and Fitzy, were in the camp across from us drinking away a long day on the river. So, we hung out drank their beers and listened to stories. They were quite a pair. Bill was ebbulient and talkative and Fitzy was sombre and quiet, but the back and forth between the two of them was gold. It was hard to tear ourselves away two hours later, but the body was weary and we had more climing to do in the morning.
The Wild and Scenic Lochsa
This morning we were still feeling the pain of several long days of riding, but after lunch we had warmed our muscles up, and through some miracle found a rhythm that felt really good. We've begun the climb to Lolo Pass, and we have roughly 1400 vertical feet a day to ride over the next three days. So, to compensate for the elevation gain we are shortening up our mileage. Today was about 60 miles, tomorrow should be about 40, and then the day we summit the pass should only be about 20 miles.
The terrain around us only gets more beautiful the more we ride into the mountains. There is no sign of the desert we left two days ago, and now everything is pine forest covered hills that grow and grow with every mile. A few miles out of camp we left the Clearwater for it's Middle Fork, and then at lunch the Middle Fork of the Clearwater became the Wild and Scenic Lochsa. We started to see our first whitewater on the Lochsa, and shortly thereafter our first rafters and kayakers. Luckily, the river keeps the road grade manageable because it would be hard to watch all those folks headed downstream if we were really toiling to go upstream. But, the riding is nice. A gentle incline, sun on our backs, and a cool mountain breeze.
Idaho definetly wins the prize for best campgrounds thus far. Tonight in camp there was a country and western jamboree. We went to watch for a few songs as a group of folks in there seventies and eighties gathere to play country music and dance the night away. They've been coming here twice a year for 27 years for this gathering. After the sun started to set and our bodies went in to sleep mode, we headed back to camp, but we didn't make it to bed. Instead we were enticed into the neighbors camp by free beers. Two kayakers from Jackson, WY, Bill and Fitzy, were in the camp across from us drinking away a long day on the river. So, we hung out drank their beers and listened to stories. They were quite a pair. Bill was ebbulient and talkative and Fitzy was sombre and quiet, but the back and forth between the two of them was gold. It was hard to tear ourselves away two hours later, but the body was weary and we had more climing to do in the morning.
The Wild and Scenic Lochsa
Day 10 Lewiston, ID to Long Camp RV Park (2 miles south of Kamiah, ID)
553.4 miles
The long days are starting to stack up. Today it was 77 miles along the Clearwater River. We started out in the desert of Western Idaho, but after about 25 miles we entered Clearwater Canyon. The desert hills graduall began giving way to hills of pine forest. It was another beautiful day, and if not for the leftover fatigue of the past couple days it would have been a gorgeous jaunt.
Well, except for the traffic. We're riding US-12 through the canyon, and it is a rode basically without shoulders. The traffic is certainly heavier than we would like and forces us over to the rough edges of the road. So, part of the fatigue comes from riding over rough pavement mile after mile. But, when the traffic passes and there is a period of calm you can hear the river running down below and take a couple seconds to glance up a the hills that will soon be developing into mountains.
We have kittens in camp tonight. Kittens and hot showers, which take the edge of the day. Supposedly there are eighteen kittens somewhere, but we see three adventurous ones that come out of hiding to play with us in our camp site.
Tomorrow the climbing starts.
The long days are starting to stack up. Today it was 77 miles along the Clearwater River. We started out in the desert of Western Idaho, but after about 25 miles we entered Clearwater Canyon. The desert hills graduall began giving way to hills of pine forest. It was another beautiful day, and if not for the leftover fatigue of the past couple days it would have been a gorgeous jaunt.
Well, except for the traffic. We're riding US-12 through the canyon, and it is a rode basically without shoulders. The traffic is certainly heavier than we would like and forces us over to the rough edges of the road. So, part of the fatigue comes from riding over rough pavement mile after mile. But, when the traffic passes and there is a period of calm you can hear the river running down below and take a couple seconds to glance up a the hills that will soon be developing into mountains.
We have kittens in camp tonight. Kittens and hot showers, which take the edge of the day. Supposedly there are eighteen kittens somewhere, but we see three adventurous ones that come out of hiding to play with us in our camp site.
Tomorrow the climbing starts.
Day 9 Lewis and Clark State Park to Hell's Gate State Park (Lewiston, ID)
476.2 miles
Another long day, literally this time. 83.2 miles into headwinds and over Alpowa Summit (elev. 2875 feet) We're totally beat. The day was gray and the landscape bleak desert in diffuse sunlight.
We got into camp tonight, made dinner, and didn't even see the sun set.
Another long day, literally this time. 83.2 miles into headwinds and over Alpowa Summit (elev. 2875 feet) We're totally beat. The day was gray and the landscape bleak desert in diffuse sunlight.
We got into camp tonight, made dinner, and didn't even see the sun set.
Day 8 Walla Walla, WA to Lewis and Clark State Park, WA
393 miles
We had a short ride out of Walla Walla today, but not an easy one. Right after Walla Walla, we rode into the Palouse of Eastern Washington. The Palouse is the rolling farm land that extends from Eastern Washington into Western Idaho. Our legs were tired from taking a day off, and not really in riding condition, so it was tough powering up and down the rolling hills. But, it was beautiful. Verdant green wheat fields stretch in every direction as far as the eye can see, and the sun was shining in a clear blue sky. So, it was a little easier to ignore the burning in our quads.
During the final descent out of the rolling hills towards Waitsburg Amanda blew a tube. We thought maybe it was a slow leak, and we could fill it up enough to limp along to the campground five miles away, but another mile down the rode it was flat again. However, the bike gods smiled on us, and the tube went flat in the parking lot of a microbrewery. So, the only logical thing to do was start drinking and hope the tire would fix itself. That didn't work, so we eventually put our beers down and repaired the tube. It was the most fortunate flat a person could have.
We had a short ride out of Walla Walla today, but not an easy one. Right after Walla Walla, we rode into the Palouse of Eastern Washington. The Palouse is the rolling farm land that extends from Eastern Washington into Western Idaho. Our legs were tired from taking a day off, and not really in riding condition, so it was tough powering up and down the rolling hills. But, it was beautiful. Verdant green wheat fields stretch in every direction as far as the eye can see, and the sun was shining in a clear blue sky. So, it was a little easier to ignore the burning in our quads.
During the final descent out of the rolling hills towards Waitsburg Amanda blew a tube. We thought maybe it was a slow leak, and we could fill it up enough to limp along to the campground five miles away, but another mile down the rode it was flat again. However, the bike gods smiled on us, and the tube went flat in the parking lot of a microbrewery. So, the only logical thing to do was start drinking and hope the tire would fix itself. That didn't work, so we eventually put our beers down and repaired the tube. It was the most fortunate flat a person could have.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Pictures, etc.
So, we wanted to put up pictures today, but had to settle for using computers in the Whitman College Student Center, where we couldn't upload anything. So, look for another round of postings and pictures in about a week when we hit Missoula.
Also check out the new sidebar with post offices we will be visiting, earliest dates of our arrival there, and instructions for sending mail. We want to hear from you.
Also check out the new sidebar with post offices we will be visiting, earliest dates of our arrival there, and instructions for sending mail. We want to hear from you.
Day 7: Madame Dorion Campground, WA to Walla Walla, WA
30 miles (366 cumulative miles)
We've decided to take a couple of rest days to gear up for crossing the Rockies at Lolo Pass. So, today we had a short ride into Walla Walla, and got a hotel room.
The ride into Walla Walla took us out of the Columbia River Gorge and into Washington Farm Country. Fields of wheat and onions flanked the rode with patches of vineyard in between. It was a lovely day of riding up and down the slowly rolling pastoral hills. There were also fields of clover or alfalfa or heather (sweet smelling plants with purple flowers) that added a delightful aroma to the air. At one point we rode through a swarm of bees crossing the road. One hit me in the arm and left a little cloud of pollen on my shirt.
Once in Walla Walla, we showered, laundered the clothes, ate well, and felt like new people. Amanda's friend Kayla met us as she was passing through and we all had lunch. We had some Washington wine, and went to sleep.
We've decided to take a couple of rest days to gear up for crossing the Rockies at Lolo Pass. So, today we had a short ride into Walla Walla, and got a hotel room.
The ride into Walla Walla took us out of the Columbia River Gorge and into Washington Farm Country. Fields of wheat and onions flanked the rode with patches of vineyard in between. It was a lovely day of riding up and down the slowly rolling pastoral hills. There were also fields of clover or alfalfa or heather (sweet smelling plants with purple flowers) that added a delightful aroma to the air. At one point we rode through a swarm of bees crossing the road. One hit me in the arm and left a little cloud of pollen on my shirt.
Once in Walla Walla, we showered, laundered the clothes, ate well, and felt like new people. Amanda's friend Kayla met us as she was passing through and we all had lunch. We had some Washington wine, and went to sleep.
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