Ladies and Gentlemen: I present to you the first journal from Oregon! (Applause)

Today flew by in typical Bike and Build fashion, with wake up, food, and route meeting. The mood was ordinary, despite the fact that today would be the day we crossed into our last state! Lynn’s family came for a brief visit and dropped off some great food for us, which included the granola most of us had for breakfast. And so, I want to extend a huge thank you to the Mandletort family for their generous donation!

This morning was quite warm, one of the warmest mornings I can remember. It’s probably safe to attribute this to the lower elevation, and urban environment. Either way, I missed the crisp cool morning air—I was probably the only one.

In any case, the days ride was pretty standard fare, a 70 mile trek down the same road, through several towns and some construction. I can really only speak for myself, but it seemed like everyone was feeling pretty good today, after a recovery day yesterday. The only real trouble, which seems to be afflicting roughly a dozen riders, is somewhat “unmentionable.” A lot of bag balm, Neosporin, Assos (chamois cream), and advice has been passed around, in an attempt to rid our collective selves of this hardship. I attribute these “saddle sores” and chaffing to the rough and somewhat bumpy roads we have been on the last week or so. I don’t mean to disgust or worry anyone, but several riders have even had to seek medical attention in an attempt to heal themselves more quickly. A few people have ended up in the van, and a few of us are suffering (to varying degrees) through the rides, in hopes of riding the rest of the way to the beach.

This brings me to my next point, which is who is making it all the way to the beach! Now, of course, all of us will make it to the beach. And, as a disclaimer, I am extremely proud of everyone, and am amazed at some of the fortitude and plain old guts that have been displayed on this trip. Everyone deserves a round of applause for how far they have ridden so far, many people don’t ride this far on a bicycle in their life! And, when you think about it, most of us have probably ridden our bikes further than we would have driven our cars if we were at home! And so, without any intention of jinxing anyone, I will move on to the list of riders who have ridden every mile thus far.

Actually, forget it. I wouldn’t want to jinx anyone. Instead, I will include a brief list of riders and their new (or old) nicknames. It is hard to say exactly where, when, or why these names came to be, but for one reason or another they exist.

We will start with James, who is now known affectionately as “Chucko.” Kevin Dulaney’s first attempt at giving someone a nickname failed miserably, but this one seemed to have stuck. Good work Kevin, and good work Chucko… I guess.

This next rider tried to give himself the completely illogical nickname of “Bronco,” which, despite repeated efforts by him and a select few others, failed. Instead, the name “Champ” has stuck, and rightfully so! It has become quite evident that he is the only rider capable of drinking half a gallon of milk a day, and indeed the only rider crazy enough to do so. I must also give him champ status as he has triumphed over many things during this trip, including his dislike of cycling. I am hesitant to make this announcement public, as shouts of “Champs here!” may now echo across the country whenever he arrives, but “Champ” is, of course, the one and only Kevin Meehan.

The next two names are, and could only be, the brainchild of Elliot Wells. I, Mike D., am now known as “Peaches.” Despite my repeated attempts to decipher the derivation of this name, I have no major leads. Elliot claims it was simply divine providence, and that it just “came to him.” OK. Jon Kallin is now known as “Fish,” which I think makes even less sense. In Elliot’s defense, thinking of a random word and assigning it to the first person you see is a fairly standard way of naming things. And in Jon’s defense, Elliot is crazy.

Jake is commonly referred to as “Jake the Snake” or simply, “Snake.” I am afraid this is simply due to reasons based in phonetics, as Jake and Snake rhyme well. No good story here…

It seems like Elliot Wells should have a nickname, but for some reason it is difficult to assign one. I have heard “Big Tobacco” and the shortened “Big T” thrown around from time to time, but neither has stuck too well. I just call him crazy. On a side note, his humming is annoying and singing enjoyable.

Larsen seems to have a couple nicknames, including “Soy Nuts” and “Lars.” The later seems to be derived quite simply from his first name. And “Soy Nuts,” I can only speculate comes from his love of all things Soy!

Shira and Sabrina, as you may already know, have become “Shabrina.” I would also like to say that I consider Sabrina to be an acceptable nickname for Shira, and Shira an acceptable nickname for Sabrina. Did you think I was just calling you the wrong thing this whole time? Of course not…

Joe is affectionately known as “Papa Joe,” and occasionally (I think) “Big Bear.” I personally am a fan of Papa Joe, as he takes a very fatherly role in the group, always resolving conflicts between the bickering children and giving us weekly allowances. Thanks pa!

I don’t know if I consider this next one a nickname, as Katherine actually thinks it’s her name. In any case, Katherine is KTG, or Katherine the Great. To give you an idea of how much this name means to her, she often introduces herself as “Katherine the Great” and gets upset when someone asks “Who’s KTG?” while sorting through a pile of clean laundry.

And lastly comes the individual whose name, I feel, fits the best. He went on a natural defensive when this name was first suggested, but has grown used to it and accepting over time. Michael Ward is now known almost exclusively as “Hollywood,” due to his major in film, and aspirations to be a director of sorts. Now, I suppose it is ignorant of me to make the assumption that all directors and film majors end up in Hollywood, but either way, I think the name works well for him. If not for “Hollywood,” I probably would have started calling him “Iceman,” for his stunning resemblance to the character in Top Gun. You can be my wingman any day!

Well, I suppose that’s about it. I also wanted to field a quick question that was brought to my attention earlier today. The question was, “Where do you put all of that stuff you have gotten at thrift stores?” The short answer is “anywhere” and the long answer a bit more complicated. Most things end up in people’s bags. I myself started the trip with a bag packed as tightly as possible and have somehow to fit most of my purchases and other various acquisitions into this same bag. I’m not exactly sure what other people do, although I know some things have been sent home, including Elliot’s $150 cane (NOT from a thrift store). And, as may be expected, some things are just floating around the van and trailer, which is a violation of a minor rule. I’m just hoping that no one will realize that my cowboy hat has been in the van since Estes Park!

That’s all for now… everyone take care, and watch the Tour de France! It has given me a little extra motivation, watching those incredible athletes ride, and can be quite exciting once you get to know a little about it. And, in addition to the Mandletort thank you, I wanted to say a thank you from all of us Bike and Builders to the Grace Lutheran Church in Vale, Oregon for giving us a place to stay for the night. It means a lot to us, especially on hot days and nights like these, to have a cool place to stay and sleep. Thank you!

So long from state 14 of 14! We’re almost there! O, and one more thing…

NINE DAYS LEFT!!!

I am currently in Jackson, Wyoming, home of Jackson Hole and all that famous skiing. It's a pretty nice town, pretty touristy as one might expect, but fun. We had a nice ride here, about 83 miles, which was the last of this "streak" of ride days. It has been difficult at times, with some long rides and some tough climbs, but we all made it OK. Today we have a day off, which for me was much needed. Last night we all went out to the town and enjoyed various cuisine, including chinese, mexican, and thai. Afterwards we hopped around from shop to shop and spent some time lying in the grass in the park. There were some fascinating antler arches leading into the park, created from thousands of elk antlers (elk shed their antlers each season, don't worry!).

A few of us went to see Transformers (the movie) which was really quite horrible, but yet quite entertaining. One of the movie-goers is a film major, which made things interesting. We briefly discussed the sound design and acting, etc. After that we took the van back to our place of residency, a locals house!, where we slept for many hours. I myself was able to sleep in until 9, a true luxury!

We were having some trouble finding a place to stay here in Jackson, as last years group ruined our previous accomodations by leaving beer in the church refrigerator last year. Another church was happy to have us, but unfortunately was unable to do so (insurance reasons). Thus, one of the church members from said church volunteered to let us stay at her house! It's a beautiful little place up on a mountainside, which accomodates us well.

Today, like most days off, is quite lazy. All of us are taking is very easy, with the exception of Joe who rode up Teton Pass today. He is driving in the van tomorrow, but still wanted to do the ride, and thus did it today. We had some Chinese Buffet for lunch, and are now just lazing around town until 6, when we have dinner at a church. After that we'll be going back to the house where I will finish cleaning my bike and getting ready for tomorrows ride and sweeep!

There is a build day in Idaho Falls, so perhaps I will be able/willing to write more then.

Currently I am reading, and am almost finished "NINE STORIES" by Kurt VOnnegut. I would reccomend it to anyone looking for some short stories that make you think, and give you a different outlook on things.

As I have probably said before, the group dynamic is pretty excellent at this point, and we have collectively decided that we are probably one of the best Bike and Build groups ever. As one of the leaders said, it seems like every group he has been with has had some negativity and people getting upset with each other. I reminded him that most of the other groups he has been in (CREC, Americops, etc) have only 6 or 7 people, and thus his negativity stands out more than in a group of 27 where he ultimately diluted. (haha) I think a lot of us are missing home, or at least a more "normal" schedule, and are getting excited about making it to Oregon and getting home. I count myself among that group. But still, I think, we are all having a good time. Less than 3 weeks!

I have gotten many compliments on the T-Shirt Genevieve sent me in the mail last week which has three pictures and captions. 1) (fork and spoon) EAT, 2) (bed and someone dreaming of a finish line) SLEEP, 3) (a bicycle) RIDE    it's a great shirt and everyone loves it. Most of the time these shirts are a stretch of the truth, and are intended for avid cyclists or whatever that feel like their lives are only these things. In reality, my life IS only these things, and thus the shirt is extremely appropriate. thank you genevieve!



So long for now,

Mike

Today was one another one of those days that encompassed a lot of Bike and Build “routine,” for lack of a better word. But first I will rewind a bit and discuss at least last night.

We rode in Maybell, Colorado, which was to be our last stop in the state. It had been a hot day with a bit of a headwind and decent mileage (77 I think). This far west in Colorado has become much like a desert, with dry grass and weeds covering the land and rocky cliffs and formations in the distance. This new terrain really brings everything full circle, and establishes Colorado as the most diverse state yet in terms of terrain and ecosystems.

We set up our tents in the extremely small town and hung around for most of the afternoon. Somewhere around seven o’clock one of the riders got a call from his dad saying that Vernal was being evacuated because of an extreme forest fire. This of course alerted us all, and the leaders began thinking of a way around this problem. It was right about this time that Jake and I took out our computers. First of all, you have to understand that this is the smallest town we have yet stayed in, with less than 400 people (I think). Secondly, we’re in this park/campground sort of thing with nothing else other than a gas station and restaurant in the town. Because of these circumstances, we were quite alarmed to find that, although we didn’t have cell phone service, we had wireless internet access!

So, we looked some things up and the leaders decided that we could jump ahead to Flaming Gorge by taking a different road. It was going to be a hassle, because 15 miles of the road were unpaved, but they decided that was the only choice. I had been jumping from site to site and looking for news on the fire, but wasn’t able to find much. As far as I could tell, nothing said that we couldn’t be in Vernal.

Sure enough, Jake eventually got through to the pastor at the church in Vernal, who is also part of the emergency response team, and found out that it wouldn’t be a problem for us to stay there the next day. And so, the plan changed back to the original, which upset some people. They were looking forward to a day off. Personally, I didn’t care too much either way, but I wanted to be able to bike every mile! The plan was to shuttle people the 15 miles over the dirt, which I was somewhat opposed to. And so, for better or worse, we stuck to the original plan.

Today turned out just that way; part for better and part for worse.

We woke up at five in our tents, most of us freezing cold. The temperature had dropped down to the forties overnight, a tell-tale sign of being in the desert. Everyone, or at least I, struggled to get out of their sleeping bags and into bike clothes. We all quickly discovered that the bathrooms were heated, and thus much congregation began to take place there. When all was said and done, the bags and tents packed and breakfast eaten, we had our route meeting in said bathrooms. There was convenient hallway connecting the boys and girls side, which made for a perfect meeting place. That, and no one really distinguishes between the two any more anyways…If you have to go, you pretty much go wherever you want. You would think this might be harder for girls, but they don’t seem to care much either. Yesterday, for example, a girl went to the bathroom behind a giant tree stump carving instead of walking 100 yards to an actual bathroom. I was a little bothered, but it’s pretty standard fare in the Bike and Build world.

Anyways, the first part of the ride was nice this morning, although quite cold. Arm and leg warmers help this, but eventually you get to the point where you are feeling these chills, or heat flashes, throughout your body. They come gradually, and you can’t really tell if they are feelings of cold, or feelings of warmth. So, in pretty random fashion, you eventually remove the extra layers and continue on.

The first 40 miles or so was mostly up and down through the desert landscape. When I say desert I am not referring to sand. The area has plenty of grasses and rocky formations, but has literally nothing else. The red color of the rock and earth is enough evidence for me to call it a desert. The area is also suffering from an extreme drought, furthering my conclusion.

We rode through a down called Dinosaur, where I didn’t see any evidence of real dinosaurs, but rather many fake ones. I still am not sure if there is a reason for this name, and the national park located there, or if it’s just for tourism. I have decided that there must at least be some fossils there or something, it only makes sense. Along the way there I was enjoying myself by watching the prairie dogs. They would stand outside their holes alongside the road and chatter at me while I was riding towards them. They had surprisingly good posture, with their backs straight and short hands held in front of them tucked down, the way a dog does when he is standing on his hind legs. I would continue riding and get closer to them, at which point they would scurry away or pop back into their holes. I don’t know if they were chastising me, or just being prairie dogs, but it was an entertaining sight. It was particularly enjoyable because there were lots of them, and I was able to ride along looking for them, which occupied my mind for a bit. That’s always nice…

In the midst of my watching, and just before a couple of other riders caught up to me, I saw a black envelope-type thing and a bunch of paper scattered on the ground. It didn’t take me long to realize that the paper was in fact mostly cotton, and green. That’s right, it was American dollars! All said and done there were 6 bills totaling $70, and a checkbook. I have not yet decided what to do, but will probably end up calling the people. Well, I admit to deciding to use $5 to buy an ice cream and a Gatorade. These things are essential on a hot day.

Anyways, the ride became even more beautiful when we crossed into Utah, although the roads got considerably worse. There were giant cliffs and rock formations along both sides of us, although far off in the distance. The roads got rough, and the shoulder less rideable. In addition to this, the drivers seem to have gotten worse. Most would only give you a foot or two on the side while passing, when they had the whole other lane available to them. This caused more than a little frustration on my part, and I admit to cursing at several of the particularly close calls. I also realized the most dangerous biking situation during today’s ride, as it occurred at least once and scared me half to death.

I was riding along as normal, about a foot to the left of the white line, looking around. There were no cars behind me, as I routinely check, and so I felt I was in little danger. I looked off to my right at a rock formation/cliff while some cars were passing going the other direction on my left. I spun my head back to the center to see a big red truck passing an 18-wheeler, going through my lane. I don’t know how close it actually was, but an oncoming car going 65 mph, plus my 20mph, makes a closing speed of at least 85mph. This, and the extremely small distance between us, is enough to shake anyone up, at least a little bit. I don’t know if he just didn’t see me or just didn’t care, but I tend to think the later. I also tend to think that those drivers are the biggest inconsiderate morons on the road. (Originally I used slightly different words…) I thanked whoever was up there watching out for me, and made sure to keep an eye on all cars, no matter which way they were going.

I really began to struggle around mile 80. The heat was getting to me, my water was as warm as the air, or close to it (90+ degrees), I needed sodium, and I had about 2 inches to ride on between the white line and the rumble strip. This, and the traffic continued to annoy me for their lack of consideration. It also seemed like I saw more “Oversized Load” trucks than ever before, passing me in both directions. There was probably at least a dozen throughout the day.

All this, and the fact that I couldn’t seem to go much more than 12mph, made the last hour or so of the ride miserable. I was able to keep going though, and made it to the church in Vernal in one piece. I always carry a pair of gym shorts in my Camelbak, which comes in handy quite often. Not only can I change out of my chamois right away, but if there is a shower I can also shower right away! This played out brilliantly today, as there was a shower on site.

And, now I am writing this. I think we are fending for ourselves again today, but I saw that there were hotdogs in the refrigerator, which seems like good news to me. Supposedly people would complain about hotdogs, but I am very happy with them. Cheap, tasty, and they have protein. That’s about all I think I need at this point.

As another random note, I have been reading more. I finished a book called, The Warriors, just finished Animal House, and am now reading Nine Stories, a collection of short stories by J.D. Salinger. After this I plan to read Breakfast of Champions or some other Vonnegut book.

What are you all reading?

Mike D

The last few days have blended into a sort of "Rocky Mountain Montage" which I will try to recount here in as many, or as few, words as possible.

As I recall, I left off in Greeley, Colorado, right before we hit the mountains. We were able to “sleep in” in Greeley, until 6:00am or so, and had a delicious breakfast. Not only was there some of the finest granola cereal I have ever had, but there were also breakfast burritos that were out of this world. Now, I don’t have much to compare them too, as I have never had a breakfast burrito before, but I know that it was very good. Of course, I think it was the unimaginably high fat content that made them so good, which is part of why I limited myself to half of one. So, after breakfast we left for a relatively short ride into Estes Park. We left Greeley with a view of the mountains in the distance, roughly 20 miles away.

We made it to the base of the mountains with relative ease despite the congested traffic and rough roads. We crested a slight hill and then started down into a river valley at the base of the mountains. It didn’t seem particularly grandiose as we were quickly funneled into a canyon, and were unable to see much other than the tall walls on both sides of us and the river running along side us. The canyon, Big Thompson Canyon, was the site of one of the most fatal floods in US history, killing at least 100 people in the 1970’s (I think). We winded our way up and up through the canyon until things opened up a bit, with trees and typical mountain terrain surrounding us. We had a great lunch in a small park along the road, provided by Joe Naughton’s mother.

Cody, one of the riders from last years CUS trip joined us for the ride, which was a fun experience. He told us a bit about last years trip and what we could expect. We shared stories and talked about biking on the way up to Estes Park. He impressed us all with his climbing abilities, as he powered up the steepest climb of the day. There was 4 of us riding with him, and I remember pushing my way up and up when I hear Jake yell, “Keep going Mike, you’re our only hope!” I looked back and saw the other riders stopped in the road, catching their breath. It was tough, but I was able to make it up to the top a minute or so behind Cody. From there it was an easy jog into Estes Park and the Eagle Rock School.

Eagle Rock School is a school for kids who have had trouble succeeding in their home environment. Many of the kids failed in High School, and/or had problems at home or with drugs, etc. The school is sponsored by Honda, which uses it purely as philanthropy. The students must choose to go there, where they experience a secondary education created specifically for their needs. The school was really neat, and I think everyone enjoyed our time there. Some people even wished that they had had the opportunity to go there themselves.

Estes Park is a gorgeous little town nestled in the Rocky Mountains. At an elevation of roughly 7,500 feet, we could start to feel the effects. Almost everyone went into town for the evening, where we shopped, had apple-pie malts, and just hung out. I bought a leather cowboy hat, which I cherish greatly. I have received nothing but compliments about it from other group members, which are appreciated. I don’t always make “goofy” purchases such as that, and the support is encouraging.

The next day was a relatively uneventful build day, where we built a wall alongside an unfinished driveway of a finished habitat house. Some of us had mixed feelings about the build, as Estes Park is a very luxurious and wealthy town due to tourism. It seems strange to think that someone living in such a town could have a housing cost burden, as it is such a wealthy resort town. It makes sense, since I am sure the workers don’t make as much money as the resort establishment owners do, but it’s still strange to think of. It kind of seems like the people that can’t afford to live there should just move somewhere else. I don’t really know what to say other than that, but it’s something to think about.

The next day’s ride through Trail Ridge Road is renowned as one of the most beautiful rides on the CUS trip. Indeed, it’s reputation proceeded itself, and the ride from Estes Park to Grand Lake was probably one of the most beautiful things I have been a part of. I say “been a part of” because you really feel like part of the mountain, and part of nature, when you are slowly churning up the mountainside. There were loads of tourists passing by in their cars, and taking pictures on the side of the road, laughing and talking about the day’s travels. I felt somewhat superior to these people, as though I was more connected to the sights and experience than they were. It may sound selfish to say that, but riding a bicycle up 5,000 vertical feet takes considerably more effort than driving the same road.

The ride was never horribly steep, but rather a constant slope that continued up and around the mountain for at least 15 miles. The climb took over two hours, but remained interesting and enjoyable as the sights and experience was incredible. The higher you got, the more you could see, and the colder it got. I rode for a few miles with a recreational rider who had done the ride a couple years ago. I knew immediately from the size of his calves that I would have trouble keeping up, but I rode with him for a bit, until I pulled off at a scenic stop to get a drink and take some photos. I won’t try extensively to explain the view from the various points on the mountain, but rather will say that I have never seen anything like it. The peaks were covered with snow, and alpine trees covered the mountains down into deep river valleys below. The road continued to wind up and around the mountain until we got above the treeline. There… it continued to wind around the rocky terrain until we reached a maximum elevation a little over 12,000 feet where we had lunch. At this point we were more than 2,000 miles from Virginia Beach, and 2 miles above. Needless to say, it was pretty sweet. One rider started crying when she got to the top, and explained that it just hit her how far we had really come.

We took a bunch of photos and had a nice long lunch at the peak, where everyone was wrapped up in all of their warm clothes. James, our meteorologist, later reported that the maximum temperature ever recorded on that peak is in the 70’s.

The ride down was as incredible as the ride up, if not more so. We wound back down the mountain, mainly through forest roads, at speeds reaching 40mph. There were tight turns and switchbacks which forced us to slow down a bit, but made it a euphoric experience. I felt like I was on a roller coaster, going around the banked corners and accelerating down the mountainside, keeping up with the cars ahead of me. The road was so steep, and the corners so sharp, that I had to ride my brakes for most of the way down in order to stay under control. I could literally see the pads wearing down as I went. At one point during the descent we reached a clearing with a small lake and two elk grazing nearby. I stopped to take a few pictures, and got to see one of the elk swim across the lake to meet the other one, which was pretty neat. Some riders saw moose as well, but I wasn’t so lucky.

We finally reached the bottom of the mountains in less than a third of the time it took to go up. I think it was totally worth it though, as flying down a mountainside such as that is one of the most incredible feelings I have experienced. A mix between skiing, a roller coaster, and race car driving, descending a mountain on a bicycle has got to be one of the coolest things out there. Well worth the climb.

In any case, we made it to Grand Lake, another resort town on the other side of Rocky Mountain National Park. We stayed in a nice log-cabin-type church with a taco bar dinner. While we were there we heard about some hot springs en route to Kremmling, the next day’s destination.

The next day most of us stopped at the Sulfur Hot Springs to get another taste of Colorado resort living. To be honest I wasn’t terribly impressed, as the water seemed very polluted and un-natural. Sure, it was hot and smelled like sulfur, but all of the pools were man-made and not terribly interesting. That, and bathing in bike shorts is not the greatest thing.

After the springs was another sweet ride through a winding canyon with train tracks running along-side the river. It seemed like a very typical western route, as the terrain seemed to become more like a desert than a mountain range. This change in terrain made it quite clear why they are called the “Rocky Mountains,” as the there were solid rock walls, mountains, and canyons all around. We rode into a small town called Kremmling, where we met and stayed with almost 2,000 other riders who were taking part in the Bike Across Colorado. This was our first “camping” day, as we set up our 6 tents on the high school football field. We talked to some of the BAC riders, which was pretty interesting, and got to hear about their trip a little bit.

Today’s ride was from Kremmling to Steamboat Springs, which is where I am currently. The BAC riders left earlier than us, and we were able to eat the food they had left over from breakfast as our own. The day started similarly to the previous day, with red rocky terrain and few trees. We passed by Chimney Rock, which I believe is a stop along the Oregon Trail. At least, I think it was in the game.

We had another long climb today, up a few thousand feet through Rabbit’s Ears and Muddy Pass. The ride up was a struggle, as I chugged along somewhere between 8 and 11 mph for a good hour or so. There was spray paint along the road saying things such as “Pain, what pain?!” left over from the BAC route along the same roads from a few days ago. It was humorous, and encouraging, and at least made things more interesting. We had lunch at the top of the climb, where I quickly downed a Monster Energy drink and a PB & J sandwich.

As always, the ride down was incredible. We were on a large 3 lane road with a wide shoulder with gradual turns and a steep incline. Perfect for reaching max speeds… Not only was the road surface great, but so was the view of the countryside. The Rocky Mountains are now far behind us, which is interesting; I thought it would have taken longer to get through them. (We crossed the Continental divide today) In any case, I was able to fly down the mountain in a relatively short period of time, maxing out at 44mph. I was hoping for 45, but sometimes it gets pretty scary when you are moving so quickly on a two wheeled vehicle. I still don’t understand how professional riders (and even some riders from last year’s trip) made it into the 60s. Incredible.

So, we coasted into Steamboat Springs, yet another resort town. This one seems to be more focused on skiing, as the surrounding mountains are smaller, yet more suited for skiing than the steep mountains we passed through earlier. The BAC also rode into Steamboat Springs today, although they took a slightly different route than us. We hooked up with them a few miles out of town, and it was fun to ride in together with them. It created a race-like atmosphere, and I pushed myself to keep up with and pass some of the riders. The sheer number of riders made it exciting and a nice change of pace.

So, now we are in Steamboat. Home of the Cowboy shop we saw a million signs for on the way in. (It was way too expensive). Showered up and getting ready to eat, I sit here in the basement writing.

Pretty much every day I have some time on the bike where I think of something insightful, or potentially more meaningful than the things I see or do. I rarely remember, especially when it takes so long for me to get to writing, but today I happen to remember roughly what I was thinking.

I realized today, although probably not for the first time, that biking and being a part of nature is an incredible thing. There’s several elements that really make it clear, which I will attempt to chronicle here. First is the spectacular beauty that nature displays. More so than any man-made thing, nature looks incredible. Be it a mountain range, endless field, rock formation, or body of water, they are all spectacular in their own way. Sometimes I feel like I could stare at them for hours, just absorbing every little detail. Biking across the country provides a lot of time for such an activity, and makes you really appreciate it more so than when you fly past in a car. Second and third is the restraint and freedom nature puts you in. Restraint in that you struggle for hours to traverse its difficult and expansive terrain. Nature’s freedom is in the path you take through that struggle. Although, I suppose we are restricted to man-made roads, the open fields and plunging descents make you feel as free as anything. In fact, one of the times I was effortlessly cruising down a mountain, the song “A Whole New World” entered my head, in reference to it being like a magic carpet ride. If you have never experienced something such as this, I recommend you ride or drive to the top of a mountain and then cruise down at a speed that is comfortable and exhilarating to you. A beautiful view only helps.

Mike

Monday, June 25, 2007

The last few days have held in them a myriad of events and occurrences which encapsulate the trip thus far quite well. In all honesty things have begun to blend together, and sometimes it is hard to tell apart one day specifically from the next. To start with, the terrain has essentially only made one major change in the past week. And secondly, we have now been in so many towns with so many names and random features, that it is difficult to remember what is what and where is where.

In any case, I will do as I always do and put down the thoughts that go through my head as I lie here in Greeley, Colorado, in a bed!

A few days ago we rode to St. Francis from Oberlin. It was to be our last stop in Kansas after a weeklong tour of the state. It was a 70 mile ride, our shortest in a five day period, and was relatively easy thanks to winds that stayed at our sides and backs. Every ride seems to have its high and low points, and this was no exception. The high was that Rosanna, a curiously socially shy person, met a man who created a hydrogen powered engine system. I say curiously shy in that she is generally one of the more quiet members of the group, yet meets some of the most new people in every town. In any case, he just happened to have a shop right off the road we were traveling, so we stopped in for a minute.

It was fascinating, because he had engineered a system so that a battery provided a voltage across two metal plates. The voltage created an extreme positive charge on one plate and a negative charge on the other plate. This apparently pulled the polar water molecules apart and separated the hydrogen from the oxygen. The two gases bubbled up in their container and then traveled through a hose into the combustion engine. The engine, a normal gasoline engine, was able to use the hydrogen gas as a fuel source, and thus run. The engine in turn turned the alternator, which charged the battery. To prove his system, he put the hose in a bucket. It was clear that bubbles were coming out of the hose; hydrogen gas. To further prove this he put the flame from a torch close to the surface of the water, which created a series of small explosions—the hydrogen gas combusting.

He told us all about the system, and how he had people interested in it all over the country, and that he was going to travel east, making a few stops, and end up in New York, showcasing his creation. As he was telling me, this is not new technology, it just hasn’t become widespread and used. As he sees it, cars should be able to go 100 miles on four ounces of regular water. His design is not yet perfected, but he predicts that to be possible.

He was a charming older man, who probably had a slight hearing disability, as he spoke quite loud. He talked about how the oil companies and car companies don’t want this sort of technology to be on the market, because then they would lose vast amounts of business. He told me about and showed me outlines for his engine that could run 100 miles on a gallon, but added that it wouldn’t work now because of the impurities added to the gasoline. They don’t WANT you to get good gas mileage, so you don’t.

To make a long story short, it was a very interesting encounter, and I’m really glad I met him. I certainly wish him luck on his journey, and hope that maybe one day his dream will be met and we will all be driving across the country on water.

The other interesting and kind of fun part of the ride was that I used my iPod for a bit when I got bored. It worked surprisingly well, with the headphones dangling around my neck, and made the ride go by a lot faster. Unfortunately, due to some sort of technical difficulty, my headphones kept flicking in and out between both headphones and just the right one. Eventually the problem resolved itself when my iPod ran out of batteries. O well…

So, St. Francis was cool. They had a really neat thrift shop that we had heard a lot about from previous trips, and were able to visit. People bought all sorts of things, including boy scout shirts and powder blue suits. I  found a snappy blue flight suit, and decided that it was well worth the $2 it cost. At dinner we all wore our favorite thrift store apparel and took pictures, which pleased our hosts.

St. Francis was also the location of James’s infamous journal. No group member was spared, as he ran a small piece of commentary on every individual. If you look quick on the bike and build website you might still be able to see it in its unedited form. Apparently there was some displeasure caused as a result of said journal, and thus a revised version will be put up in place of the original soon.

I was also able to practice my slacklining skills in St. Francis. “Slacklining” is an exercise to improve balance and focus. An inch thick (or so) belt is stretched tightly between two trees, and you try to walk across it. Kevin Dulaney, an avid climber in civilian life, brought this novelty to our attention. I have only tried it on three separate occasions, but I am already getting pretty good and am excited to keep practicing. I have seen people using a slackline at UVM, and I’m hoping I might get a chance to show off my skills sometime next semester.

And so we left St. Francis en route to Akron, which was to be our first 100 mile day. Or close to it anyways… Our cue sheets said 95, but most of us decided before the day even started that we were going to bike the extra five and make it an even hundred. For most of us, this was to be our first century ride, myself included. Everyone was in relatively high spirits when the day started, despite the fact that we were unable to do laundry the night before as planned. Normally we do laundry every third day, but due to unforeseen circumstances and a lack of washers and dryers, we were unable to do laundry the previous night. Thus, we all had to pull some dirty shorts and jerseys out of the pre-made laundry pile to wear. Hand washing isn’t so bad, and no one complained too much about it.

So, we woke up bright and early and left St. Francis around 6:30 in the morning. The first part of the ride was absolutely gorgeous, in my opinion. We were on the road right about when the sun was rising, which looked absolutely fantastic. Silhouettes of cows dotted the horizon, and our shadows stretched out upon the road beside us and into the field on the other side. Everything looks spectacular in the morning or evening, when the sun is rising or setting. Normally the countryside is a standard yellow and brown, with blue sky and green grass and corn from time to time. In the mornings however, the sun and clouds add reds and oranges and purples to the mix, which makes the whole thing so much more beautiful. Without a doubt, the morning-time was the best time to ride in Kansas. Not only is it more aesthetically pleasing, but the temperature is also much more comfortable. Cool enough to make you feel comfortable and refreshed, but not so cold to make you stiff or shiver.

The terrain changed into much steeper hills and valleys, with more rocky formations all around. It seemed very fitting, as we left Kansas, to have this sort of change. We entered into Nebraska for a few miles, and were treated to the same kind of beauty. Ironically, it was right when we got into Colorado that things began to take a turn for the worse. Our first lunch was just after the border crossing, around mile 40. After that things began to flatten out again, and it felt like we were in Kansas again. But not the eye-pleasing Kansas we had experienced before. No, this was an ugly Kansas. Everything seemed much more dry and dead, and telephone poles seemed to be everywhere, polluting the fields. I don’t know if this is an accurate representation of what it was actually like, I just know I didn’t like it at all.

Most of the ride was like that, with large dried up fields to either side of us. The sky was still as blue and heavenly as ever, but the earthly terrain looked like hell. The wind also started to pick up, which made the last 20 miles or so into Akron painful, and somewhat reminiscent of our ride into Effingham. We got there alright though, and I rode around the town and parking lot until my odometer turned over 100 miles. My first century…

The next day’s ride was much like the first, with relatively flat and unpleasant terrain. However, today’s ride was even worse due to some additional unpleasantries. The first part was fine, as we were able to take advantage of a slight tailwind and I had an interesting conversation with Lynn about music. After that though, things were not a lot of fun. My butt started to hurt a considerable amount, perhaps due to the 100 miles the day before, and that’s never fun. Also, we started passing through a bunch of cattle farms, which both smelled and looked disgusting. I will spare you any details for now, but it really made me consider being a vegetarian. There was one bright side, which was a nicely paved road, but that was about it. At our second lunch stop Joe pointed out a hazy blur in the distance which were the Rocky Mountains. It was hard to tell from far away, but as we got closer it became more obvious that we indeed were almost there. The flat terrain of the Midwest is no more! The sights and smells continued, and I didn’t get any relief from that or the heat until we passed by a cemetery in Greeley, a few miles from where we were staying. I noticed that the sprinklers were running to water the lawn, so I took a quick detour to hose off. Riding through the spray was refreshing, and made my day a little brighter. The other bright side was that I crossed over into the 2000’s, meaning I am more than half way there (mileage-wise)!

So, we got to Greeley and had pretty standard host things. Set up our stuff, had dinner, yada yada yada. Unfortunately it was different because everything smelled like cattle and poultry—not my favorite smells. People had been cursing it all day. Joe, “Greeley’s a bastard!” It’s just not a very pleasant town, that’s all. When the sun set we had a great view of the mountains, which I think gave everyone a little mental boost. We had made it. For many of us, the Rocky Mountains are the big reason why we did this trip. It’s really exciting, and although I am actually writing this now from in the mountains, I will pretend I am not and say, “I can’t wait to ride in/through them.”

Mike

A today was a day just like any other.

Except it was different in a way. In several ways I suppose. It was different in the sense that I was very tired for the duration of the ride, and it was different in the sense that I was never really “feeling it.” I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, which was only my own fault, but I definitely felt the effects today. I woke up a few minutes early to get all of my stuff together, and realized that, indeed, I was still tired. This is nothing usual, but it was a little more concerning today.

As it turned out, this concern was well warranted, as I was indeed quite exhausted. We had 44 miles before lunch, which is a bit longer than the usual 35, and I felt it. I had to stop at mile 30 or so to eat a Balance Bar and use the little boys room at a local McDonalds. The interesting thing about Kansas is that you can’t really stop just anywhere. First of all, there is no natural shade, so you have to find a man-made structure to provide some. Second, there is at least 10 miles between one town and the next, so you have to choose wisely when stopping. In between those towns is literally nothing except for farmland and a vast expense of emptiness. Emptiness is hereby defined as a lot of wheat, corn, and empty fields for miles and miles. Don’t get me wrong it’s beautiful, but there’s not much there at the same time.

Let me back track a little bit and point out a couple of points of interest from the early part of the ride. The morning started out cool and calm, with no wind and some cloud cover blocking out the sun. This made the riding conditions pleasant, although it was almost a little concerning that there wasn’t any wind. I’ve just grown accustomed to some wind or another I guess, that’s all. It’s interesting, because it can be difficult to determine if there is, in fact, wind at all. When you are riding along there is a natural breeze created by your motion, the air ahead of you being pushed past you. When there is a head or side wind, you can certainly feel it rush passed you or push you back (or over). Interestingly enough, it’s when there is a tail wind that you notice the least. A strong tail wind makes it so you feel no wind effect at all. It feels like you are standing in place on your bike, while going quite fast. Faster than you would normally go. Although this is a lot of fun, I can imagine it could become dangerous, as there is no breeze to wick away your sweat, and it becomes quite hot. In any case, the other obvious way to tell if there is wind is to look at your surroundings. Tall grass and flags will show signs of wind before anything else, and are often a good indicator of the weather. It’s strange though, because sometimes the grass on one side of the road moves one way, while that on your side of the road moves the other. I haven’t quite figured out what this means, but it is an interesting phenomenon.

That whole bit about the wind wasn’t terribly relevant, as there was little wind today—surprise! My ride started out pretty slow, and I had a feeling it would stay that way. I just felt exhausted, and could not move fast to save my life. My average speed for the day ended up being about 15mph, one of my slowest yet. I tried a few times to pick up the tempo, but quickly fatigued myself and had to slow down. I guess it was just one of those days…

Anyways, I saw a few people hopping from hay bale to hay bale (riders, of course) which was an amusing sight, and which brightened my spirits a little. A bit later I rode my bike into a wheat field and ran around a little, hoping to add a “new spark” or something. Alas, it was futile, as my energy level was merely depleted by such an exercise. So, I resigned myself to my fate, and took it slow.

While crawling along I had a couple thoughts that interested me. At one point, despite the relative boredom and discouragement I was experiencing I decided I wanted to bike across many countries, not just this one. I think it came from the fact that the rolling hills I was stumbling over reminded me of England. I also realized that biking is something I really enjoy, most of the time. It’s not limiting, it’s not a job or chore, and it sets you free in a way (assuming there is little traffic). I thought that it would be fun to bike across other countries, such as England and France, maybe Mexico or Brazil, Australia, or somewhere in Africa. Not only is it a great way to see and experience the countries you are in, but there is something I find fascinating about being able to say, “I’ve biked across these countries.”

The one problem with this is I am still rather turned off by the idea of carrying my own equipment and clothes and stuff. I really enjoy having a van coming along, and hope that maybe if I did those trips one day I would have someone to drive along with me, as boring as that might be at times for them…

So… that’s what I was thinking, for what it’s worth. There were also times when I thought about the beauty of our country. You can see for miles and miles here, and it never really gets old. I find it just as fascinating now as before, if not more so. The land is getting even flatter as we go, and trees are becoming more and more sparse. This allows one to see for further and further, with few obstacles between oneself and the horizon. Things are so flat, if I didn’t know any better I would say the whole world is! It really does look like you could just fall off the edge at some point. Fortunately, such has not occurred to any member of the group.

I also started thinking about the problems in this country, and thought about their origins. People have been talking about Confessions of an Economic Hitman which talks about some of the United States international affairs and how we essentially take advantage of foreign entities through corporate invasions and money lending. I really cannot speak much about this at all, since I haven’t read the book, but know it talks about examples in detail. I apologize if my summary was poor. In any case, there was this, and the fact that some farmers are struggling, and the fact that everyone seems to have some issue or another to worry about. One of these, of course, is affordable housing.

The part where I get confused is how people end up taking advantage of others, and how such great inequality exists here and in all parts of the world. It seems that on an individual basis everyone I know or have met is a kind, sharing, loving individual. No one really wants to take advantage of anyone else, they simply want to better themselves, a reasonable goal. Unfortunately, this gets lost somewhere, and things are as they are.

Re-reading that I realize it doesn’t make much sense, and so forgive me. My thoughts on the bicycle are rarely extremely coherent, especially when I am fatigued. One last thing I thought about was numbers. I realized that my average cadence is roughly 70, which means each foot goes in a circle 70 times in one minute. If you multiply this by the roughly four and a half hours I am on a bike each day, you get 18,900 rotations per day. Assume 60 days of biking, and you get a little over a million rotations for the entire trip. The main significance here is that that is a huge number! What else do you do over a million times in a two month period? I can’t think of much, except for maybe blink or something like that. I guess it just goes to show that cycling has become a natural, almost instinctive motion. I have considered counting every rotation, so I can say I also counted that high, but I feel that is completely unnecessary. I counted to 400 one day when I was particularly bored, but it wasn’t all that fun. I feel a million wouldn’t be either.

After lunch I rode with a couple other riders, which made it more tolerable. We swapped trivia questions, which made things more enjoyable. Upon entering town we had root beer floats at A&W, which were delicious. The temperature had crept up slowly throughout the day, and is now in the mid to high 90’s. Fortunately, it is dry here, and thus tolerable.

And so I must go… We are watching Aladin here in the church in Oberlin, Kansas. Tomorrow is our last day all in Kansas. After that we will be heading into Colorado, and changing time zones once again. I have enjoyed the terrain, but am looking forward to a change of pace. I just hope my legs remember how to climb, and haven’t softened too much from these flats. The Rockies should be a lot of fun, and I am looking forward to them a lot. It’s one of the primary reasons I did this trip to be honest, to bike over the Rocky Mountains.

It’s not far I suppose. By the end of next week, I think, we’ll be there. And so I leave you, with endless plains in sight and the vision of endless mountains ahead.

Mike

After a busy couple of days, I think I have a minute to catch up on the last few days. I started writing the last blog a few days ago when I was in Greenville, Illinois. That night we ended up going outside the church and played some lawn games on their giant lawn. Almost everyone was outside, the only exception was the dinner crew which was preparing pasta with vegetables for everyone. About half of the people played ultimate Frisbee, while the other half played whiffle ball. I was part of the whiffle crew, and must say I had a great time. For some reason it took us a while to get a real good game of anything going, perhaps it’s because we didn’t have a great location… In any case, it was nice to get outside and hit the ball around a little bit. Not quite the same as U-Heights North whiffle ball… but fun non-the-less.

As you may have recalled I mentioned being in the back of the group for the last few days, and getting kind of sick of it. Mike and I decided that we would be in the front of the pack for a change, and would try to ride faster than in previous days. We were two of the first riders to leave and were able to keep up a healthy pace on the relatively flat land and NO WIND! I must admit that it was absolutely fantastic to be riding without a headwind. You really take it for granted sometimes… So, Mike and I took off. A few miles into the ride Dan, probably our strongest rider, passed us. I wasn’t surprised, but was a little disappointed since I wanted to be in the front. Mike and I decided to try a little “pace-line action” to help catch up to Dan and the one other rider in front of us, Jake. Pace Lining is essentially having one rider ride directly behind another, with only a few inches between them. This makes it so the front rider breaks the wind, and the rear rider gets “pulled along” and has to exert a significantly less amount of work. The riders switch places every 3 to 5 minutes or so (or at least that’s how we did it) in order to stay fresh and maintain a fast pace. So, even though there was not a lot of wind, Mike and I used this strategy to catch up to Dan and Jake. Once we caught up to them both, they joined on to our pace-line and we sped on down the road. Our average pace-line speed was probably 22 or 23 mph, when by myself I would average 16-18mph on my own. Riding in a pace-line makes an extremely significant difference, and can save a lot of energy for all riders involved. And, as I just mentioned, you can go a lot faster because one rider is doing most of the work. After his few minutes are up, he drops to the back of the line and someone else takes over. Essentially, one person is working hard and three are resting at all times.

The one problem with a pace-line is that it takes a lot of focus to maintain, and requires some amount of riding skill, ability, and trust. If one rider goes a little too fast, or overcompensates, or even breaks too hard, it could cause a pile-up for all the riders involved. There are certain tricks you can use, and communication is essential to maintaining an effective and safe pace-line. All of this makes pace-lining very mentally taxing. You have to be in a state of constant focus to make sure you don’t mess anything up, and to make sure you maintain a constant speed and cadence. After an hour and a half or so of this I decided to break off and ride on my own. Although it was a lot of fun, and I was able to go a lot faster than I would have been able to go on my own, I was getting burnt out from it all.

There were a few things worthy of mention that occurred during the ride, which I will mention here… Firstly, we passed the 90 degree latitude mark (or is it longitude? I never remember) meaning we were a quarter of the way around the world from Greenwich, England. Also, we passed over the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers, thus crossing into Missouri! Apart from my visits to Seattle, Washington, this is my first time west of the Mississippi! We of course took a few photos, which you can see on the photos page at some point.

Unfortunately, the ride into the city was very “highway-ish” for lack of a better term. There were some detours, and we ended up having to take highway roads into the city, complete with rumble strips, guard rails, and cars flying by. We stopped at a police station for a minute to make sure our directions were correct. They said our directions to the University of Missouri St. Louis campus were correct, but that we would be riding through some of the most dangerous streets in St. Louis. Now, I don’t know what that was supposed to mean, but we all were a little excited about that. We weren’t really afraid, since it would be broad daylight, but thought it was kind of interesting. In actuality, the streets seemed pretty well trafficked, and didn’t seem that dangerous at all. Either way, we all made it safe and sound to the athletic complex at UMSL.

After showering and all that good stuff some of took the metro into the city. Some people wanted to go to the zoo, but I opted out of that, as I have seen animals before. We went right into the heart of the city, and made our way to the famous arch—gateway to the west! It was really as enormous and impressive as it looks in the pictures, stretching from the ground up hundreds of feet and then cascading back down to the ground a few hundred feet over. We didn’t go up to the top, in part because of time and money restraints. We continued to walk around the city a