Jeff's BIG Ride -- Daily Itinerary (July)

Here's what's happening day by day in July:
Th 1 -- Ness City to Leoti KS (79 miles) (2000 miles total)
F 2 -- Layover day in Leoti
Sa 3 -- Leoti KS to Eads CO (79)
Su 4 -- Eads to Ordway CO (61)
M 5 -- Ordway to Pueblo Lake State Park CO (56)
Tu 6 -- Pueblo Lake to Royal Gorge CO (54)
W 7 -- Royal Gorge to Fairplay CO (67)
Th 8 -- Fairplay to Breckenridge CO (31)
F 9 -- Layover day in Breckenridge CO
Sa 10 -- Breckenridge to Hot Sulpher Springs CO (80)
Su 11 -- Hot Sulpher Springs to Walden CO (64)
M 12 -- Walden CO to Saratoga WY (67) (2500 miles total)
Tu 13 -- Saratoga to Rawlins WY (42)
W 14 -- Rawlins to Sweetwater WY (85)
Th 15 -- Sweetwater to Lander WY (40)
F 16 -- Lander to Dubois WY (75)
Sa 17 -- Dubois to Colter Bay Village (Grand Teton NP) (66)
Su 18 -- Layover day in Colter Bay and Jackson (WY)
M 19 -- [van shuttle + 50 mile ride to West Yellowstone MT] (50)
Tu 20 -- Layover day in West Yellowstone
W 21 -- West Yellowstone to Ennis MT (72)
Th 22 -- Ennis to Dillon MT (72) (3000 miles total)
F 23 -- Dillon to Jackson MT (48)
Sa 24 -- Jackson to Darby MT (75)
Su 25 -- Darby to Missoula MT (69)
M 26 -- Layover day in Missoula MT
Tu 27 -- Missoula MT to Powell CG [camp ground?] ID (57
W 28 -- Powell CG to Lowell ID (65)
Th 29 -- Lowell to Grangeville ID (48)
F 30 -- Grangeville to New Meadows ID (81)
Sa 31 -- New Meadows to Cambridge ID (51) (3500 miles total

The riders (part 13 of 15)

This is Kath, our other southern hemisphere-ite and token Aussie. I
didn't get a good pic of Kath on day 1 in Williamsburg, and it's taken
me a while to shoot another one, is the only reason she's the next-to-
last in my brief profiles of my fellow riders. Kath surprised me when
I took this photo of her yesterday, during the post-ride afternoon
chill-out in Sterling, by expressing some anxiety over what I was
planning to say about her -- like maybe it'll be negative, somehow?
(Little does she know that "planning" is not a category you'd come up
with very often in a random sample of Jeff's daily mental
activities.) She told me a while ago that she's been reading my blog,
so maybe this is just a result of the fact that she's had some time to
stew a little in anticipation that this was coming.

Kath is a forester/landscape architect/urban planner, now retired,
who, as you can see, likes a good glass of white wine at the end of a
day on the road. She's also a wife (her husband is joining up with
her at the end of the ride), and a mother (she disappeared when we
were in Carbondale to spend time with one child, a daughter, who is in
Lexington KY studying to be a horse doc with one of the world's
leading experts), and a rower of some repute down under. She doesn't
have a lot of experience riding a bike, but she's a strong athlete,
who can power through the difficult stuff. And speaking of powering
through the difficult stuff, that's exactly what she did, very
memorably, on a particularly long-riding day early in the tour, when
she was the designated cook, and the late afternoon brought a
tremendous thunderstorm. So she's out in a parking lot, under a canvas
shelter, producing tomato slices with mozzarella and basil for hors
d'oeuvres, and two different fettucinis (alfredo and with pesto) for
the main course, with a salad. Like I said -- powering through. And
setting a powerful precedent -- we WILL eat well, meteorological
conditions be damned.

"Loner" isn't the right word -- she and Dennis have a very compatible
pace and approach to riding, so the two of them buddy up on the road
most days -- but Kath is definitely a person who likes her space, and
likes a little bit of solitude and quiet contemplation at the end of
the day. She often pitches her tent (or plops down her sleeping pad,
when we're indoors) apart from the main group. (She commented the
other night how she thought she and I were something of kindred
spirits in that respect -- good call.) But she's also got a great
sense of humor, and a distinctive and hearty laugh that is always
ready to burst out, and often does.

[That's it; no bad news; sorry to disappoint, Kath...........]

Still Ramblin' Across Kansas

MON 6/28 -- Newton to Sterling (55)
This was an easy 55 mile ride (flat! not very hot! tailwind!) to our
campsite in Sterling's lovely little city park -- showers, swimming
pool, lake with jogging path and fishermen, picnic pavilions, outdoor
concert stage; idyllic small town America, en otras palabras. Everyone
got into camp by noon or so, and from then on the common approach to
the rest of the day for just about everyone (except for the cooks) was
lazy summer afternoon chill mode. At one point the local police
showed up to (I was sure) either (a) order us to move because we were
camped in the wrong spot, or (b) order the end of beer consumption, or
both. Wrong. They wanted to tell us they'd be patrolling the area
through the night to prevent any mischief, and that they'd see to it
that the bathrooms associated with the pool were kept open for our use
all night, and to be sure to give them a call if we needed them for
anything. In the evening we were treated to a dixieland band concert
by 8 local musicians -- two trumpets, a clarinet, a trombone, a sax, a
tuba, keyboard, and drums. The music itself was a little rough --
occasionally pretty good, but mostly just spirited (in fairness, the
group as a whole had never played together before) -- but the scene
was great: maybe 3 or 4 dozen locals, a few of us bikers, the sound of
kids playing in the background, the pretty little lake as the sun went
down serving as a backdrop, all on a picture-perfect summer evening.
And, maybe best of all, the band closed up shop at a little after 9,
which is pretty much the far end of go-to-bed time on the 2010 Trans-
Am tour.

That wasn't the end of the excitement, however. We had a late-night
street-cleaner who set a new world record for noise:speed ratio, plus
the world's loudest and longest-lingering train, plus the kicking in
of the grain elevators doing whatever it is that grain elevators do
(which I thought was the sudden emergence of a nearby freeway), and
then, to top it all off, an automatic sprinkler system that kicked in
at about 3 am, dousing several tents, some of whose occupants (e.g.,
Hugh) hadn't deployed his rain fly under the crystal-clear sky, and
had left some clothing out on the grass to dry overnight. I heard the
sprinklers go on, and heard the unmistakeable sound of rotating
sprayers blasting tent fabric (accompanied by very little human
vocalization (i.e., cursing), surprisingly) which elicited, unbidden,
the following not-completely-charitable thought: "Man I'm glad that's
not me those things are hitting."

TUE 6/29 (today) -- Sterling to Larned (53)
See description of yesterday's ride. Add "totally straight" and
"nothing -- no towns, no rogue gas station, nothing -- between point A
and point B," and in place of "tail" insert "modest head." The
landscape remains very flat, but with an unmistakeable gentle rise in
elevation -- I think we've climbed about 1000 feet since we entered KS
a few days ago. Fot the last 20 miles or so of the ride, Hugh, Clive,
and I had a nice little pace line going -- each rider hard on the
preceeding one's rear wheel, the lead rider doing most of the work by
breaking the wind for a few miles, then moving out and dropping to the
rear to let the next in line take over. Fun; and so the miles passed
by. We had the perfect conditions for this kind of riding -- smooth
road, flat and straight, with little traffic. We're spening the night
in the reception hall (and a few scattered other rooms) of the First
Presbyterian Church of Larned (which must have had another "r" in it
at some point in the dim past, now lost, since the locals pronounce it
"lar-nerd"). There's a guitar set up on a little stage at the front of
the room, which I've been banging on -- my fingers have lost all trace
of their guitar callouses, and my skills (always modest) have eroded,
but it's fun to play again; another thing I've missed on the ride.

Sunday June 27

Even without doing any research, I am 100% certain that "Kansas"
derives from a Choctaw word meaning "very flat land where the roads go
on forever and there's often a very strong wind in your face. Plus
it's waaay corn- and cow-intensive." Here's a picture of Kansas
terrain on an early, sunny, summer morning.

Spending substantial time with my Kiwi friend Clive, as I did today on
the bike (Eureka to Newton KS; 75 miles; long + flat + boring + strong-
wind-in-face = very hard ride -- I am very tired, and MIMAS), I've
been trying to attend to the subtleties of the Newzealandish tongue.
My hope is that with sufficient study and practice I might someday be
able to carry on a simple conversation in that language. It is clear
to me already that in order to do that, I'll have to solve a
fundamental linguistic mystery: What are the features or attributes
of a thing, or a condition, which render it (a) merely "bloody" (which
I gather is everything's default), versus (b) "f**king," versus (c)
"bloody f**king"? That's it -- there do not appear to be any finer
gradations beyond "thing," "mildly onerous thing," and "the most
outrageously onerous thing any human being has ever
endured." (Instances of "f**king bloody" have also been observed, but
that transposition seems to be used merely to inject some verbal
variety onto the talk stream, without altering substantive meaning.)

After riding for 8,000 miles (*) today into a 384 mph headwind (**), I
tentatively offered to Clive that that was a class c ("f**king
bloody") headwind. He concurred. I'm making progress!

----------
(*) Ok, 38.
(**) 15-20, maybe.

Saturday 6/26

Chanute to Eureka KS (63 miles). Here's a brief (but pretty accurate)
symbolic summary of the ride. Imagine that each letter stands for one
mile:

corncorncorncorncorncornwoodscorncorncorncorncor

[break for pecan pie w/ice cream and a cup of coffee]

cowpasturecowpastur

I found a bar in Eureka (pop 2,914) where a trio of west-to-east, self-
supported cross-country bikers -- mom, daughter, daughter's best
friend -- had already established a USA-Ghana World Cup viewing
outpost. We tried our best to cheer the lads to victory -- including
the time-honored techniques of (a) lots of beer, and (b) yelling a lot
at the tv screen -- but alas it was to no avail.

(Sent from my iPhone)

Day 1 in Kansas

FRI 6/25 -- Pittsburg to Chanute (60); one of the easier 60-milers
I've ever done. Mostly (but not totally) flat, and we were done riding
before the afternoon wind rose. Chanute, which is not exactly a world
crossroads or anything, is home to a pretty amazing museum of African
art and artifacts, a result of the odysseys [sp?] of a couple of
locals in the early 1900s. This couple, Martin and Osa Johnson [I
might not have those names right], basically invented the safari/
wildlife film.

We had lodgings in Grace Episcopal Church, where I found a brochure
written and illustrated by my friend (and the officient at my
daughter's wedding) Jay Sidebotham. The good people of GEC left out
fresh-baked brownies for us, and banana-walnut bread, and fresh-brewed
tea, and lemonade, and muffins, and angelfood cake -- nice; very, very
nice. I even met the brownie-baker, at the drugstore's soda fountain
(old fashioned root beer float) -- who happens to be the daughter of a
guy Hugh and I bumped into when we were trying to get directions to
the church (and who was himself a member of the church). Small town
life is a continuous small world, I imagine.

Another incident worth noting: As we entered the town, Hugh stopped
and asked directions to the church from a lady on the street getting
into her car. She was clearly a directions-challenged person, but we
had nothing else to go on at that point, so we set out along the route
she laid out. Which proved to be just about 100% wrong. Well. She
realized her mistake, went to the church to report that we were in
town, and then hunted us down to give us the correct information.
Which wasn't necessary, since by the time she found us we'd already
bumped into the guy who gave us the correct directions, but what a
nice thing to have done.

The brownie-baker and her husband (who happened to be a church warden)
and her mother later showed up at the church to greet us and take some
pictures and give us a tour of the church and present everyone with a
little memento. They thanked us repeatedly, and profusely, for
visiting and staying at the church, as if it were WE doing them a big
favor, rather than the reverse. "It's just so exciting what you're
doing, and so exciting to have you here." Lovely people......

(Sent from my iPhone)

On to Kansas

So long Missouri, after Wednesday's loooooong (71 mile), hot (tho not
quite as uncomfortable -- lower humidity, maybe?) ride from Ash Grove
MO to Pittsburg ("Cleverly Dropping the Unnecessary H, and Thereby
Saving Hundreds of Taxpayer Dollars a Year on Printer Toner") KS. As
we approached the border the terrain flattened out, the roads became
arrow-straight for miles on end, and a strong, steady wind made its
presence felt -- almost like we were in Kansas.

For most of the day the wind was from the south, so not directly a
headwind on our generally westward route, and you could even kind of
tack into it a little. In fact, at one point we took a jog directly
north for about 5-6 miles, and fairly flew into Golden City MO (pop.
884), home of the famous Cookys Restaurant, a legend among Trans-Am
route bikers for its pies, of which there must have been 15 varieties
available. I had blackberry, with a healthy scoop of ice cream and a
cup of actual coffee -- nectar and ambrosia. This middle-of-nowhere
place was packed at 10:30 on a Wednesday morning, a fine example of a
great business model: offer a really good product and people will find
you.

Another very positive feature of the ride was the detour that wasn't
(*) -- a 6-7 mile stretch on either side of a highway overpass under
repair that was closed to cars but passable for us 2-wheelers. It
wasn't a very busy road, before and after the detour (there aren't
many people around, and not many places to go -- we're talking wide
open spaces here), but still it was great to not have to be concerned
about traffic AT ALL for a chunk of miles.

We landed at an EconoLodge (A/C! pool! next door to a good Mexican
restaurant!) in Pittsburg ("Yes, I Suppose We COULD Drop One of the
T's, Too"), KS, home of Pittsburg State University, and other less
obvious charms as well, I'm sure. On our rest day that followed (Yay!)
I rested (and laundered, and patched a tube, and cleaned my chain),
and except for a brief foray across the street to get a sub for lunch,
and a few blocks' stroll in the evening for pudding at Freddys Frozen
Custard, I never left the EconoLodge's friendly confines. A fine day,
in other words.

-------------
(*) Hugh missed the sign Michael placed, telling us to ignore the
detour, so he took it and tacked on an extra 12 miles to his ride, and
an extra hour to his riding day. If it had been me, I would have been
really pissed; Hugh came in laughing about it.

The riders (part 12 of 15)

This is Philip, a local boy out of good old Arlington VA, at age 22 by
far the youngest of the riders (excluding co-leader Steve)(*). Young,
as in: always the last person to get going in the morning (Hold page
1! Young man likes to sleep late!); and as in: when there's leftover
food the first person we all look to to finish it up (he rarely
disappoints); and as in: always on the lookout for extreme/outlandish
adventures and behaviors (e.g., cliff-jumping into the Jacks Fork
River; trying to attain the highest maximum bike speed; rising to
Steve and my ridiculous challenge that he couldn't put 8 marshmallows
in his mouth at once and then swallow them (he did 9, and almost
gagged during the swallow phase, but powered on through)). By his own
admission, Phil likes to ride a bike more than anything else in the
world. So the Trans-Am ride was a perfect gift from his mom. (Nice
going, mom!)

When I first encountered Phil, at our group's get-acquainted meeting
in Williamsburg, I worried that he was going to be very unhappy being
such an outlier, age-wise, but it seems that doesn't matter much to
him at all. He and Steve pal around and ride together a lot, of
course, especially on days when Steve rides sweep -- Phil hangs around
camp late and the two "kids" ride sweep together, in effect. But Phil
seems quite content to ride with the grey- (or no-) hairs, too. He's
ridden with Hugh a couple of times, and he and I rode together for
most of the day when we left KY and entered IL, and had a fine old
time of it. We talked a lot, about big stuff -- being a adult, future
plans, family, school, marriage (it was the day of my anniversary),
etc etc etc. Phil is a very interesting kid, who seems to be
floundering a little as he traverses the somtimes difficult border
between kid-hood and adulthood (again, hold page 1, blah blah blah).
For example, I don't know all the details, but his educational history
is kind of checkered. He hasn't finished college, and I think he's
tried several different majors at more than one school. Maybe the trip
will help him sort things out a little. But even if it doesn't, he's
going to have -- and IS having -- a very good time.

-------------
(*) Chronologically, Phil isn't THAT much younger than Lucille and
Robin, but they still seem to be of different generations.

Adieu, Ozarks

The last few days before today -- Eminence to Houston (SUN; 42 miles)
to Marshfield (MON; 64) to Ash Grove (TUE; 48) -- have all kind of
blended together. They were each POTENTIALLY beautiful rides -- lots
of roller-coaster roads through scenic woods, mountains (going more
downhill than up!), and farmland,
but much of what the countryside looked like after about 10:00 or
10:30 was lost on me. I know that the fire tower (middle photo) -- the
climb of which was a great little adventure, and offered clear
evidence of just how comfortable Hugh is with heights (he did not make
it to the top, and he descended, very slowly, with what he claimed
were "5 points of contact at all times" (?)) -- was early on the ride
out of Eminence. I'm not exactly certain where the other shots are
from -- there were frequent scenic possibilities.

The continued heat led us to switch our lodgings from camping to motel
in Houston MO, which, because it's in Texas County (really!), inspired
Steve and I to go with a Tex-Mex theme for our dinner -- Coronas (w/
obligatory lime wedge) and/or margaritas for the cocktail hour,
guacamole & chips for hors d(whatever), and tacos for dinner. We moved
a little north of the border for pudding -- pecan pie.

The ride from Houston to Marshfield would have been beautiful, but for
the heat -- ditto Ash Grove. Rode with Hugh both days. On the former,
we stopped at a feed store for water, and he engaged the proprietor in
a discussion of cattle raising and breeding, a topic which I did not
know he (Hugh) had expertise in. Tuesday we stopped at a picture-
perfect small town cafe for ice cream, where the topic of his
discussion with some locals was hay-baling, and the evolution of the
cylindrical bale. More BFFs for the Hugh-ster. It's fun to watch him
in these settings; he's got a real and rare gift to engage with
ANYONE, in any setting, about anyTHING, and doing so is what he
absolutely loves best about the tour.

Saturday 6/19 -- Lesterville to Eminence MO (47)

So we left our skanky (skunky) Lesterville campground and headed on
down the road to Eminence MO. ("Eminence" -- sounds like someone had
big plans, no? Well they haven't panned out yet, is all I can say.)
We're in the heart of the Ozarks, so the climbs were many and steep.
And it was -- have I mentioned this before? -- h-o-t hot Hot HOT.
We're getting started earlier in the morning, which is good -- the
mornings are quite pleasant for riding. But even then there's a sort
of desperation to my riding because I'm so eager to get to the end and
avoid as much of the blazing heat of the afternoon sun as I can. Which
makes it very hard for me to want to stop for anything other than
water -- not very conducive to leisurely sight-seeing, which was the
general approach I wanted to try to take to this trip (an approach
that runs counter to my natural biking tendencies, I'm afraid).

Anyway, to make up for my failure to stick to my riding "game plan," I
made a really bad decision in Eminence, which was to join Clive, Kath,
Dennis, and Hugh on a kayaking/canoeing adventure down the Jacks Fork
River, one of two lovely, clear rivers that run through the area. Why
did I put myself back in the blazing sun for two hours? Crazy. And why
did I not foresee that the beautiful river, on a hot mid-June Saturday
afternoon, would be filled, bank to bank, beginning to end, with not-
so-beautiful people, in inner tubes, rubber rafts, canoes, and all
manner of floating devices, each hauling along
more beer than I could drink in a thirsty week. (Loud, obnoxious, fat,
inebriated, and "tramp stamp"-intensive people, just to add to the
"fun.") Stupid. Kath got into the cultural aspects of the afternoon;
Hugh (as is his nature) and Dennis had a great time, despite (because
of?) capsizing twice; Clive endured; I sulked.

(Sent from my iPhone)

Revolution! Power to the People!

Well, not really a "revolution," exactly, but the people are speaking
up and exerting influence on important decisions. Thursday night, for
example, responding to local info about the planned route (a
purportedly dangerous section due to heavy traffic and decrepit
shoulder), and a possible better alternate (less traffic, recently
paved), we riders were able to convince Steve and Michael to take the
van and a couple of riders out in the evening to drive those parts of
the route. Based on that assessment we ended up on the original
planned route anyway, which did have 7-8 miles of big ugly. (Jerry
took the other route and said it was fine. Shorter by a few miles, too.)

It's perfectly fine to go "off route," BTW -- you just have to accept
the fact that there won't be a "sweep" riding behind you, or the van
coming by on its daily traverse of the same route the bikers are
riding that day. Any trouble you run into is a little more trouble, in
other words, but trouble is pretty rare.

Then last night, after another brutally hot day (upper 90s-low 100s)
on the road, as we were sitting in our ugly Lesterville MO campground
(loud RV-ers, heavy bouquet of skunk in the air, cramped tent space a
zillion miles from the bathrooms, showers, and water), having our
daily "map meeting," sweating like pigs due to the heat and humidity,
we voted unanimously to spend down some of our substantial
"pad" (excess available funds due to spending less than budgeted so
far on food/lodging) by buying motel accommodations -- and the a/c
that goes with them -- for the next couple of nights. The heat
advisory for the St Louis area is supposed to end, last I checked, on
Monday, so the hope is that things may cool down a little in a few
days. (But probably not.)

We're also responding to the excessive heat by getting an earlier
start on the day. This morning we moved the start of the breakfast
eating and lunch prep hour from 6:00-7:00 back to 5:30-6:30. Everyone
was eager for more cool-of-the-morning saddle time, so by the time
Hugh and I left camp, a little before 7, virtually everyone else was
gone. As a result, the first 3 hours or so of riding were very
pleasant -- cool, almost, with a pretty heavy cloud cover. But by
about 10 the clouds had burned off, and the heat really cranked up
again.

Speaking of again, we're back in mountains again -- the Ozarks, in
central (?) MO -- with lots and lots of steep climbs (and steep
descents, altho not quite as steep as the climbs). The afternoon heat
just sucks the energy out of you, making the climbs even more
difficult -- and adding difficulty is really not what you want to do,
as they're plenty difficult to begin with. We've got 3 more days in
these mountains -- which are quite beautiful, BTW; I shouldn't be
using all my pixels to whine about them -- before a long mostly
downhill ride into Pittsburg KS ("the Pittsburg of Kansas"), our next
layover stop.

(Sent from my iPhone)

Thursday 6/17 -- BIG News

THU 6/17; Chester IL to Farmington MO (47) -- Our group of riders is
down to 12; Joyce decided to drop out. She's been overtly unhappy
about some things for quite a while -- very homesick, and not able to
sleep well in a tent, being two big ones -- and the scrape with the
truck on Wednesday just put her over the edge. So she stayed behind
this morning to wait for her husband while the rest of us took off.
Too bad. Her riding was getting stronger every day, and I'm pretty
sure, after having my doubts at first, that she could have made it all
the way, physically. But her slow pace meant that she spent way more
time on the road than anyone else, much of it by herself, so lonliness
may have been a factor, too.

We started the day by crossing the Mississippi into MO, en masse for
safety, with the van bringing up the rear (long, 2-lane bridge).
Crossing the Mississipi -- somehow that fact, even more than the 1,200
miles, really makes me feel like we've gone a substantial way across
the country.

Spent the night in a pretty cool place --a former jail converted to a
hostel for bikers, with bunk beds (mattress! clean sheets! pillow!
pillowcase!), showers, A/C, a tv (to watch Mexico v France (me), and
the NBA finals (others)), and washer/dryer. Poached salmon for dinner
(again!), strawberries and ice cream for pudding. Sweet.

I had to bail out of the bunks, though, and put down my sleeping pad
on the hallway floor, due to the AMAZINGLY loud snoring of several of
my bunkmates. Really; I could maybe provide a pale demonstration, but
I can't find the words to describe it. I trained for the biking miles,
but I didn't train for the heat, and I certainly didn't train for the
snoring.

(Sent from my iPhone)

Yesterday

WE'D 6/16 -- Carbondale to Chester IL (54); back on the road after
bidding adieu to my sweetie (alas!) -- but we already have a
reservation at a B&B in Breckenridge CO, where the ride has a
scheduled layover day in early July. The group opted for the "levee
road" route option, which was definitely flat (I think that was the
key feature in people's decision-making), but probably a mistake,
because (a) we didn't really get many (any?) good views of the river,
and (b) there was a heavy volume of coal truck traffic on one big
stretch of road. (Also, a self-supported rider we've often been in
synch with took the other route and said it was great.) In fact, Joyce
got clipped by a big truck, which swung so close to her after passing
that it knocked off her handlebar mirror. Yikes.

I rode with Clive all day.
(UPDATED CLIVE PROFILE: He's clearly faster/stronger than me on the
uphills now, too, ever since he got a new saddle a week or so ago. I'm
guessing we're still comparable going sideways or backwards, but he's
got me every other way.)
Clive and I arrived in Chester, hard by the Mississippi and the MO
border (and home of Popeye -- who knew? (also, who cares?)), ahead of
the van, because, for the first ride after John's crisis, we had
decided as a group that the driver should park it mid-route and wait
for everyone to go by to ensure full water for everyone. Without
access to our gear, Clive and I took appropriate action and procured a
6-pack, which we consumed with our lunch in the town gazebo, next door
to the Popeye museum (see above comment), and watched the monster
trucks roll by.

Spent the not-very-restful night (hot; loud) in the "campground"
facilities of the Fraternal Order of Eagles (which I could not
distinguish from a simple bar/nightclub). The county police force
showed up to interview Joyce; he displayed appropriate unhappiness
with how she'd been treated by the truck. While he was there he
removed a local crazy guy from our midst, whose home, unfortunately,
overlooked our tents. He did NOT reappear during the night to ax-
murder anyone, as was the general concern.

(Sent from my iPhone)

Photos (5-7)

5) The scrum at the entering MO sign -- it's a crappy shot, but it was
a crowded, narrow, truck-intensive spot, so I didn't hang around to
try to get a better one
6) Waiting for bad weather to pass (in this case, in Coffman MO)
7) A better-quality shot (on you, Jeff K!) of Michael and me -- with
Hugh behind the camera -- in Fordsville KY

Photos (1-4)

1) Mooresville KY (the sign was bigger than the town)
2) On the ferry crossing the Ohio River
3) Leaving KY, entering IL (briefly) after crossing the Ohio
4) The bridge across the Mississippi at Chester IL

Guess what? More news from the ride!

SAT 6/12 -- Utica to Marion KY; 69 of the hardest miles I've ever
experienced -- it was hellishly hot (high 90's), and we were under a
blazing sun all day; no shade. And into a strong headwind all day,
too. (And following the 80-plus miles the day before.) I think I went
thru 8 water bottles, plus a Gatorade (supplied by a nice lady in
Dixon, who also refreshed my water AND gave me an icee), and I had a
chocolate milkshake along the way. (Stopped in a cafe in Marion
before checking into our lodgings to watch the USA/England match; had
a delish peach fritter-like food item, avec a big pile of ice cream,
and a cup of coffee. As an athlete, I have to be very careful to eat a
healthy diet.) Everyone came in exhausted. Our lodgings were in a big
Baptist church -- pretty plush (an excellent kitchen, for example),
but everyone was too wasted to really enjoy it.

SUN 6/13 -- HAPPY 40th ANNIVERSARY TO ME!! And what's-her-name, that
woman -- Kris! yeah, that's it!

Another hot, hot day, making the 47 miles from Marion to Dixon Springs
State Park pretty much just a slog. But at least it was relatively
short slog. I rode with Phil all day, which was great, and really
helped make the miles go by. We did get to take a ferry across the
Ohio River -- out of KY and into IL, at a little town called Cave In
Rock; cool.

But overall fundamentally NOT cool, the 3rd brutally hot day in a row,
which took a toll, especially on John. After dinner he pretty much
collapsed, and cramped up really badly -- so much so that we called
911. Scary. But with lots of fluids, and ice packs, and some
effective massage work by Joyce, he was much better by the time the
EMTs arrived. Who evaluated him carefully, and decided he didn't need
an immediate emergency room trip. But it was also clear that John
shouldn't ride tomorrow, so Steve volunteered to take him and Dawn to
Carbondale (our next destination) that night, day before our scheduled
rest day there.

Hmmmmmm, Carbondale, isn't that the very city where, even at that very
moment, my beautiful wife was waiting for me to arrive the next day to
celebrate, one day late, our 40th anniversary? Yes! Turning John's
misfortune to my advantage, I hopped on the van to be with my wife ON
the actual anniversary day. (Yeah, I missed a few Trans-Am miles on
the bike. It was a no-brainer.) As I packed up (with lots of help from
Robin and Lucille and Clive and Hugh), I commented that it would be a
real downer if I found her with another man in the room. But I didn't,
and she was either very happy to see me or put on a very good act.

(If this were a video there'd be a slow fade as the happy couple
embraced.)

We had a GREAT 3 days in Carbondale celebrating our 40th.

(Sent from my iPhone)

The Friday 6/11 story, continued

So we left the scared old man's garage and continued on down the road...

...for about another 10 miles, when the thunder and lightning gathered
again. We pulled into the McDaniels Auto Repair and Salvage garage,
and, after being joined by Michael (riding "sweep" at the back of the
group (i.e., us)), we waited out another t-storm for about 45 MORE
minutes. (Hugh passed some of the time talking with the boss about
the salvage biz--how's it work? what's the most common thing people
come in looking for? etc.) At this point the whole morning is gone,
and we're only 30 miles into an 80-plus-mile ride on a hot and stormy
day. Gaack.

Anyway, the storm blew by, and there was nothing to do but get back on
the bikes and back on the road. Which we did. We set Fordsville, about
22 miles distant, as our stop-for-lunch target. We got there without
further incident, and I spotted a little shady roadside park with
tables and chairs -- perfect. Except for one thing. As we aproached it
became apparent that it was not a park, but a private home's front
yard. Hugh knocked on the door to ask if we could rest and eat our
lunch there. "Sure!" -- so we did. As we were setting up, the owner,
Tom Whittington, and his son, Jeff, came out and joined us to chat
while we ate. (See Hugh's photo of Michael and me with our hosts.)
Turns out Tom hosted some original Bike-centennial riders back in 1976
-- let them pitch tents in his yard. He told us about his family's
bluegrass band of some renown. And we even talked politics a little.
And so we passed a very pleasant hour or so. At one point in the
conversation I complained about the morning's flat tire and spoke
troubles, to which Jeff commented that if that hadn't happened he and
his father would never have had the pleasure of meeting us. And vice-
versa, to be sure, and absolutely correct. Just to put the icing on
the human connection cake, as we were leaving Jeff said that we, and
our safety and well-being, would be in his prayers.

Refreshed, and without further incident, we finally made it into
"camp" (the Utica KY Volunteer Fire Department) at about 4:00.
Showers, a/c, a kitchen, a roof -- life is good.

PS. Hit 1,000 miles today!

Catching up some more

THU 6/10 -- Bardstown to White Mills KY (59).  A pretty easy ride over mostly gently rolling countryside.  Rode with Hugh all day -- who produced no dramatic events whatsoever!  Spent the night at the W.M. Christian Camp, where we were denied access to the pool (apparently so as not to pose a risk to the kids).  Oh well.  Nice showers, a big pavilion with ceiling fans, and a clothes dryer, so there was much positive as well. We went out for dinner in quaint little Glendale KY courtesy of Ken, a friend of Dawn and John's, and an original 1976 Trans-Am-er.

FRI 6/11 -- Wh Mills to Utica.  This was a long, hard ride, mostly NOT due to the 83 miles, or anything especially
challenging on the road -- it was the heat, and the thunderstorms, and the flat and broken spoke I had about 20 miles in. Despite the thunder and lightning and the gathering ominous  clouds, and despite my urging that he dump me and move on before getting caught, my buddy Hugh hung with me for an hour-and-a-half thru the spoke and flat repair (massively assisted by Steve) and the deluge that followed.

We did the repair in the driveway of an apparently unoccupied house, and, after confirming that fact by knocking on the door, and getting zero response, beat a retreat into the open garage to wait out the inevitable oncoming storm.  Just before it hit, Hugh decided that it would be prudent to answer a call of nature before being trapped indoors, and so stepped out of the garage to relieve himself. Well. The old man inside the house couldn't hear knocking on his door, but was finely attuned, it seemed, to the sound of someone peeing on his lawn.  Rap rap rap rap rap on the back door window.  "Who are you? What do you want? What are you doing in my garage?" he shouted thru the (closed) back door. I went up to the door and tried to explain, but I never got thru to him -- I don't think he could hear very well.  So I ducked back into the garage (it was really pouring by then), expecting to see the law pull up at any moment. But they never did, and eventually it stopped raining, and we left.  Sorry, old man -- we didn't think anyone was home, and we just wanted to get out of the wet.

There's more to the day's story, but this post is plenty long, so I'll save it for later.....

(Sent from my iPhone)

The riders (part 11 of 15)

This is my buddy Hugh, the only rider I knew at the outset of the
Trans-Am ride. I've known Hugh for maybe 20-25 years -- thru the
Wolfmen (softball), and school/PTA stuff, and mutual friends. And of
course we've done some riding together. But I've experienced some new
facets of his personality -- the essence of his persona -- on this
ride. Hugh left all his maps at home. Hugh fell asleep at the intro
meeting of the group. On our very first ride, Hugh dropped his hotel
key on the road. (Clive picked it up.) Hugh left his chair at home.
And his new GPS watch. Hugh bought a mirror but it fell off his bike,
and he lost it. Hugh left his dog zapper (Jeff K's dog zapper,
actually) by the Bumpass VA post office. (Clive picked it up, but
didn't know what it was, so left it there.) Hugh left his backpack in
a restaurant in Burgin KY, but two guys in a pick-up came by and said
they'd seen it there, so he went back and retrieved it. (He said he
thought he was feeling unusually refreshed and strong post-break, but
couldn't quite figure out why.) Hugh's brand-new bike broke. Hugh had
the group's 1st flat, two weeks into the ride--and then the 2nd, 3rd,
and 4th flats the next day. "Hugh -- the next turn is in 8 miles; we
go left on 184," I say. Next thing I know, in 1 mile he's turning
right on route 63. But, as he says, other than that, the ride is going
really well. Actually, in spite of all his misadventures, Hugh retains
a remarkably positive, and infectious, upbeat attitude. He's also
perhaps the most social human being ever born. You've got to factor in
an extra 10 minutes, minimum, if you stop at some middle-of-nowhere
store for a Gatorade break, in order to allow Hugh time to chat up the
proprietor about local history, how he/she came to own the place, top-
selling items, the frequency of biking customers, the general arc of
mercantilism in America, etc etc etc.

(Late breaking news: as I write this, in a state park just into so.
Illinois, I'm told that Hugh had to run back to the pool/shower to
retrieve his bike shorts and sandals.)

At a recent awards ceremony, Hugh won the not-at-all-coveted prize for
the "most bad occurrences while biking" -- the rest of the group
COMBINED couldn't touch him. He wears his prize, a 2nd yellow warning
triangle, with pride.

And speaking of what he wears, this picture shows Hugh in his standard
biking regalia -- long pants, long-sleeve shirt, hat under the helmet
with visor and neck cover. (Dermatologist's orders.) Michael,one of
our leaders, has taken to calling him Lawrence, as in "... of Arabia."
It kinda fits.

Catching up a little

WED 6/9 -- Harrodsburg to Bardstown KY; a 45 mile ride made more...
umm... "interesting," let's say, by the weather, which included
several gi-normous downpours. We woke to a full-bore thunderstorm,
which kind of slowed things down at the start, but eventually it let
up enough to permit everyone to hit the road. In my "normal" life this
was one of those days when I would NEVER for a MOMENT even CONSIDERED
going for a ride. But off I went.

Of course, that wasn't the end of the rain. I managed to escape most
of the bad stuff via the "keep-your-eyes-peeled-for-a-shelter" method
-- one abandoned old machine shed, one front porch of an unoccupied
house, and one -- the best one -- the porch (with comfy bench!) of a
farm outbuilding somewhere near Mackville KY (pop 206), I believe,
where I sheltered (and napped, and ate my lunch, and read) for about 2
hours, while it poured and poured some more. The owner came home
(which was across the road) at one point, and thru the rain we used
hand signals to establish that it was just fine for me to bide my time
there -- "That's what it's for," he shouted. When it finally let up I
went over to the house to introduce myself and say thanks. Glen Brown
was his name; he's in the cattle biz -- he buys them and (somethings)
them and (something elses) them and (something elses) them and
castrates them (that was the only activity that stuck). When he asked
me where home was, and I said DC, his immediate response was, "Now why
would anyone want to live THERE for?" I find it's often a show-
stopper, when I tell people where I'm from.

(Sent from my iPhone)

Humility, luck of the draw, response to adversity, courage, etc etc etc

We've run across, and on occasion shared meals and sleeping qtrs with,
a number of other cross-country (or long dx, anyway) riders so far
along the route, but none quite like this guy. This is Allen, who we
met a week or so ago, on the day we came into the Elk Garden Church
(which I wanna say was near Rosedale VA?) early in the day, after a
very short ride, and he was getting ready to head out. Allen has
Friedrich's ataxia (not sure that's the exact right name), a no-cure,
degenerative nerve condition which has already cost him the use of his
legs, and will eventually render him totally unable to control his
body--until it kills him by destroying his ability to breathe. (That
was a hard sentence to write, and probably hard to read, but just
imagine living under that cloud.) Despite this mega-bleak future, he
was an amazingly engaging and upbeat guy -- laughing and joking and
talking with us about his condition and his ride, a perfect lesson in
"you-think-YOU-got-troubles?" He's on a fund- and awareness-raising
ride (I bought one of his T-shirts), on a hand-cranked cycle, from St
Louis to DC -- see www.fromheretothere2010.com. I tried his cycle --
very hard work, altho as he said, unlike us severely-abled types, when
he stops to take a break, his bike doesn't fall over. He had all of
the big VA hills still to climb; I hope he makes it; I bet he will.
Godspeed, Allen.

Back in the saddle

TUES 6/8 -- After a rest day in charming little Berea -- filled with,
for me, such fast-lane excitement as drying out the tent, drying out
my shoes, doing some laundry, and walking around the artsy part of
town (again) -- we hit the road again today for a 50-miler to
Harrodsburg KY. A beautiful ride on a beautiful spring morning --
rolling farmland, clear skies with high, fluffy clouds, temp in the
high 70s, no dogs, a couple of small towns to gape at, smooth roads,
very little traffic. One of the best rides, if not the best ride, on
the trip so far. Our lodgings are a little iffy -- the gym floor in a
YMCA (a YMCA with no showers; what's with THAT?) -- but Mike's on
cooking duty so the food is bound to be good. And I know the beer
will be cold, and plentious (sp? cromulent?), because I packed it up
this morning.

(Sent from my iPhone)

The riders (part 10 of 15)

This is Mike -- Ypsilanti Mike, Mike of the recent bad back event (now
miraculously recovered, it would seem), Mike of the fast rides, Mike
of the loud snores, Mike of the hatefully consistent cell phone
service (generally used to talk to the new girlfriend), Mike of the
fancy-schmancy racing bike that weighs about as much as a Kleenex(TM),
Mike of the fantastic poached salmon dinner for 15 cooked on a camp
stove. Mike is retired from Ford, and celebrated birthday no. 55 last
week, at the Hale's Farm stop outside of Charlottesville. Mike's cell
phone -- in his pocket -- rings: "I'll get it." Mike to me, as I'm
taking what he thinks is too much time and care to fold and pack my
tent: "Jeez; do you want to borrow my iron for that?" Dawn to Mike in
the scrum to make lunch: "You go ahead." Mike: "Goathead?! Who're you
calling a goathead?" When I ride with Goathead -- I mean Mike --
which has been fairly often, the only thing that keeps us in the same
time zone is the fact that he stops to take zillions of pictures.
"You go on ahead -- I'll catch up." Indeed he will.

The riders (part 9 of 15)

This is Clive, our resident Kiwi. Clive is approximately (or maybe
even exactly) 60, and a veteran of many bike tours, including
Adventure Cycling's Northern Tier X-C ride a few years ago. He's in
the air traffic control biz, but in a technical role, not in the
towers. Clive has thighs the size of major tree stumps, and a bum
knee which had him in hobble mode a week or so ago. Fortunately, the
bad spell came and went over our last rest day, in Damascus -- if it
had hapened on a ride day (as he put it in his colourful native
tongue) "I'd've been f@@ed in the f@@ing van." At least I think
that's what he said. Clive speaks in clipped tones way back in his
throat, and in a manner that doesn't involve the lips in any
discernable way, so it's often hard to tell. I end up riding more
miles with Clive than anyone else in the group -- we're pretty well
matched pace-wise. I go a little faster uphill, and in general; Clive
goes waaaay faster downhill, and I'm pretty sure he could ride at a 14
mph pace for weeks on end.

Q: What's the wettest you can be?

A: Completely, and then you just can't get any wetter. Which is what
I was for the last hour or so of today's 50-miler from Booneville to
Berea KY. (The ride TO Booneville, yesterday, was a lovely, gently
rolling, minimal-traffic meander alongside Troublesome Creek for the
first 15 miles or so, and then 48 (but who's counting?) miles of major
ugly -- busy highways, lots of big coal trucks, constant rumble-strips
making the shoulder unrideable &c.) Berea, a lovely little college
and artsy-craftsy town, is a layover stop -- no riding tomorrow--and I
(and just about the whole group) had already made a weather-forecast-
related decision to bail out of camping (in a campground/RV park right
by the interstate -- I-75 maybe?) and check into a hotel. So I kind of
got into the ridiculous wetness of the ride, knowing I had shower/bed/
indoor plumbing in my immediate future. Didn't even bother me when I
missed a late turn (which only added 3-4 miles to the trip). So I'm
in the Boone's Tavern (lies! we're in a dry section of the county)
Hotel. I arrived in drowned rat mode, of course, apologizing to
Kristen, the front desk lady, for my appearance. When I showed up in
the lobby later, post shower and shave, she said, "Well now you clean
up real good, don't you."

(Sent from my iPhone)

The riders (parts 7 and 8) (or have I lost count?

This is Dawn and John, our group's other married pair. They're a
mid-50s retired couple from St. Paul MN -- she's a native, he's a
furriner (central PA). They met on Adventure Cycling's Bike Vermont
ride several years ago, and the rest, as they say, is history. Dawn
currently sports an impressive shiner below her left eye, which she
CLAIMS was caused by a roadside weed-whacker event, and not marital
discord due to the tension of spousal ride. (Probably true, but I'm
keeping an eye on John, just to be on the safe side.) Dawn has a
great exuberant laugh, and talks just like someone from Lake Wobegon
should. John is more quiet and laconic. They ride together all day,
which is a grand thing to do, I think.

More about yesterday

Forgot to report on yesterday's high drama.

DRAMATIC EVENT 1 -- Mike, our strongest rider, woke up unable to move
due to back pain, so he had to pack it in for the day and ride in the
van. His ability to continue looked pretty questionable. Until
today, when he got back on and rode the whole (tough) route. Still in
pain walking, but biking seems to be ok.

DRAMATIC EVENT 2 -- Hugh's bike suffered rather complete fall-apart
about 20 miles from the end of the ride. (A local drove him all the
way in. Nice.) The rear dérailleur basically fell off, and took some
of the frame along with it. This is (was) a brand new machine. He
vanned it today and probably will tomorrow, too, at which point we'll
be close to a bike shop so he can buy a new one and ship the busted
one back home. As with all of his many misadventures on this ride
(and Hugh definitely leads the league in mishaps), Hugh remains in
remarkably good humor thru it all.

(semi)DRAMATIC EVENT 3 -- Joyce fell. Did no damage to herself, but
whanged her bike seat way out of line. John white-knighted along at an
opportune moment and Allen-wrenched a repair.

Whew............. Plenty of drama for one day. Sometime later,
maybe, I'll write about the place we stayed, the Knott County
Historical Society Bed and Breakfast and Campground, and David, it's
founder (and our host).

(Sent from my iPhone)

Where I am RIGHT NOW (part 2)

(Sorry -- itchy trigger finger)

So we sat on her porch while it poured rain and talked -- mostly about
her recent troubles, which were very real. As in, the sudden death
last fall, out of the blue, of her 39-year-old son, which followed her
husband's death about 3 years before. And now it's just her and her
daughter, living in a breaking down house by the side of a highway.

The sky cleared and I left. But soon the clouds gathered again, and
it started to rain -- hard. I noticed a large low bldg on the side of
the road with a big overhang, and took shelter. Turned out the odd-
looking and odd-behaving people were the residents of the place -- a
long-term care facility for the mentally ill. "what's your name?"
"where you from?" "you ever been here before?" One lady said, after I
told her I was biking to Oregon, "well let me ask you (looooong pause)
what you want to bike to Oregon for?" The crazy people and the sane
all ask the same question!

(Sent from my iPhone)

Where I am RIGHT NOW...

...is Hindman KY, which we got to via a 70 mile ride from Breaks park
(see lovely approach photo immediately mbelow) including 5 count 'em 5
MAJOR uphills. A (the?) highlight of the ride was that we FINALLY GOT
OUT OF VIRGINIA--woo-hooooo (see 2nd photo for proof). 1st impression
of KY -- lots of dogs on the loose (no fun for bikers), and a couple
of yokels who yelled at me to "get off the f-ing road!"

Actually there were a couple other positive highlights, each of which
was related to bad weather -- major rain. I was chugging along in
Raven KY (don't bother trying to find it on a road map, is my guess)
when the sky in front of me got really black and thundery. I was
tired and thirsty and hungry and ready for a break anyway, so I
started looking for shelter and noticed a lady heading back to her
house from the mailbox. (Attles was the name on the box, but I never
got her first name.). I asked her if I could sit out the rain on her
porch, and eat my lunch, and she invited me right up

Happy birthday to me!

THU 6/3 -- Elk Garden Meth Ch (near Rosedale VA) to Breaks Interstate
Park on the VA-KY border -- a 45 miler with, as the Spanish say,
muchas montan(tilde)as de muerte. And hot. I was serenaded at
dinner, and dessert -- 'scuse me, pudding -- was a German chocolate
cake, with candles. The heavens continued the serenade later -- HUGE
hours-long thunderstorm at night. You know what? When I'm in a tent,
I'm actually not a major fan of thunderstorms. No major water
problems, tho.

(Sent from my iPhone)

The riders (part 6 of 15)

This is Steve, our co-leader. He's impossibly young (just turned 21,
a sr at Penn State), impossibly tall (approx 9 ft?), impossibly skinny
(maybe 165, soaking wet), and a REALLY strong rider. Steve, IMHO, is
an excellent leader, esp. considering how much younger he is than just
about all of us, something I could never have pulled off at that age.

The riders (part 5 of 15)

This is Jerry -- beer (and wine) man extraordinaire. Jerry is the
oldest member of the group -- 70, a retired CA state highway cop, from
Santa Cruz (or thereabouts). Jerry rides a recumbent, and sleeps on a
cot, which folds up smaller than my Thermarest self-inflater. (Both
of these facts make me jealous sometimes.) Jerry's a little slow
going up hills, but FLIES down 'em. Amazing fact: Jerry joined the
Trans-Am 3 days after completing the Southern Tier (So California to
St Augustine). He's 70 years old and he's riding back and forth
across the USA, people!

A few scenes from the road...

Typical bucolic VA countryside

The last few days

Internet access is kinda spotty out in the hinterlands of western VA.  Here's what's been going on the last few days:

SUN 5/30 -- Christiansburg to Wytheville VA

MON 5/31 -- Wytheville to Damascus VA.  This 56-mile ride -- some of which was in the rain (*) -- ended with a FANTASTIC 20+ mile fairly gentle downhill ride into town, that just went on and on and on ("seemingly endless" is how the guidebook describes it, which is spot-on).  As an added plus, the rain ended and it was a beautiful, sunny, not-too-hot day for that part of the ride.  I stopped by the side of the road next to a beautiful little stream for lunch -- pictures to follow at a later date.

TUES 6/1 -- A much-needed layover day after almost 500 miles of riding w/o a break.  Damascus is a funky little town that's kind of a hub for bikers (due to the VA Creeper trail and the Trans-Am route) and hikers (due to the Appalachian Trail).  Stayed in a beautiful little campsite right in town next to the river, where we could watch the ducks/ducklings and the birds and the swimmers and the fisherman.  Did some laundry, bought some beer (**) and ice, had lunch with my Mom and my Aunt Mary, who were on their way back from DC to Asheville.  It was GREAT to see them (and Mom PAID for my lunch -- woo-hooo!), but I've got to admit that seeing them made me a little homesick.  I had planned to spend the layover day catching up on things electronic, but was thwarted due to no AT&T service.  (Service has been very spotty -- very frustrating.  Here's the sort of generosity we've encountered along the way, though:  there's a guy in Damascus who keeps a phone out on his front porch just for no-service (or no-phone) hikers and bikers to use, which I did so I could call Kris.  Also, while I was doing laundry, a guy gave me a dose of his detergent so I wouldn't have to buy any.)  There was a huge afternoon downpour, which I was very glad we weren't biking in.  So far (knock on wood) my little tent is holding up very well.

WED 6/2 -- A very short (33 mile) but VERY hilly ride from Damscus to a Methodist Church near Rosedale VA, another of the many churches we've encountered which opens its doors for bikers to use the kitchen facilities and spend the night.  Not sure why the ride was so short, except (a) a lavk of places to stay, (b) the HUGE uphill climb (***) -- 3-1/2 miles, very steep grade, lots of switchbacks -- and (c) some substantial climbs coming up on the next day's ride as well.  This was the first day of real riding where I really wanted to put in more miles -- I was done riding by 10 am.  I think the rest day really helped, but I think I'm also getting stronger and more acclimated to being on the road every day.

FOOTNOTES:
(*) Brother Rob, please note -- this activates your additional 1 cent per mile bonus for Wheels for Africa if ever I encounter rain while riding.  And speaking of WfA -- thank you THANK YOU everyone for your extremely generous pledges and contributions, which at last count were up to almost a buck-and-a-half per mile.  Which means that essentially every day I ride I/we buy a bike for a kid in Malawi.  Thank you!

(**) How the beer system works:  At our get acquainted meeting, I was sitting there wondering how we were going to provide adult beverages to those who wanted them, but a little shy about bringing up the subject.  No need, it turns out -- EVERYONE is very interested in a tasy drink after a long, hot (or even short and not-so-hot) ride.  Jerry has been our main beer guy, and we use the syetm he suggested -- he makes sure the coolers are full, and when you grab a beer you put a dollar in the kitty.  Easy.  Jerry is our most valuable team member.

(***) Brother Rob -- there's another cent per mile, in the event I ever encountered an uphill.

Jeff's BIG Ride -- Daily Itinerary (June)

Here's what's happening in June, the month we FINALLY get out of Virginia ("Virginia -- the state that never ends"):

 

T 1 -- Layover day in Damascus VA

W 2 -- Damascus to Elk Garden Hostel VA (32 miles) (500 miles total)

Th 3 -- Elk Garden Hostel to the Breaks Interstate Park VA (42)

F 4 -- Breaks Interstate Park VA to Hindman KY (69)

Sa 5 -- Hindman to Boone KY (60)

Su 6 -- Booneville to Berea KY (58)

M 7 -- Layover day in Berea KY

Tu 8 -- Berea to Harrodsburg KY (47)

W 9 -- Harrodsburg to Bardstown KY (50)

Th 10 -- Bardstown to White Mills KY (59)

F 11 -- White Mills to Utica KY (83)

Sa 12 -- Utica to Marion KY (69) (1000 miles total)

Su 13 -- Marion KY to Dixon Springs State Park IL (47)

M 14 -- Dixon Springs to Carbondale IL (54)

Tu 15 -- Layover day in Carbondale IL

W 16 -- Carbondale to Chester IL (49)

Th 17 -- Chester IL to Farmington MO (47)

F 18 -- Farmington to Lesterville MO (49)

Sa 19 -- Lesterville to Eminence MO (51)

Su 20 -- Eminence to Houston MO (42)

M 21 -- Houston to Marshfield MO (64)

Tu 22 -- Marshfield to Ash Grove MO (48)

W 23 -- Ash Grove MO to Pittsburg KS (69) (1500 miles total)

Th 24 -- Layover day in Pittsburg KS

F 25 -- Pittsburg to Chanute KS (58)

Sa 26 -- Chanute to Eureka KS (64)

Su 27 -- Eureka to Newton KS (75)

M 28 -- Newton to Sterling KS (56)

Tu 29 -- Sterling to Larned KS (50)

W 30 -- Larned to Ness City (65)

The riders (parts 3 and 4 of 15)

This is Robin and Lucille. They're from Cardiff, Wales. They run
marathons, incl several in the US, but haven't done much biking except
in prep for this ride. Robin and Lucille talk funny--"the loo,"
"rubbish," "pavement (i.e. sidewalk), "ass" is pronounced "ahss," etc
etc etc. One the group has really taken to, tho--"pudding" (aka
dessert). That's what you'll hear after dinner now: "What's for
pudding, then?"