105 miles today into Lamar, Colorado, decided to stretch my legs a little and let the mule have its head. Wind was quite kind to me. Crossed into Mountain Time, which means I've ridden clear across a time zone, I entered Central Time when I left Florida, and left it today. So now I'm 7 hours behind you lot, not 6.
Early night for me, good wind tomorrow gonna try to make the most of it, north to kit carson or maybe even limon if things go well, or camp somewhere in between
Monday, April 28, 2008
Ulysses, Kansas, Alt: 3,051 ft
Vertically half way to Denver. Today was a long slow 8mph slog into a freezing cold headwind, it was -2C last night and didn't get above 10 in the day so I was in cold weather gear all day, although the sun shining made it a bit nicer. I found that the best way to get rid of most of the horrible bits of the headwind was to wear a trusty bandito mask:
This stopped my face being sandblasted, and helped me detach myself from the discomfort of having wind blasting into me all day, so it made riding much easier and I managed 67 miles, way further than a normal headwind ride.
It had the interesting side effect of greatly reducing the number of friendly toots and smiles from passing vehicles though, I guess it turned me from friendly, approachable-looking cyclist struggling along, into a hardcore post-apocalyptic road warrior with a disconcerting stare. Or a muppet. Who knows.
I found a working ipod nano lying on the road today, looked like it had fallen off a motorbike. Will pass it on to someone as I go. Later on a state trooper pulled over for a chat to see if i was ok as I was on a rest break by the roadside, which was cool of him. Absolutely everyone talks to me about the wind here, always in sympathy.
The land was totally flat today, and barren too. I rode over a couple of dried up river beds, it all looks very western, especially with the tumbleweeds blowing everywhere, I figure they are plant versions of me.
After looking at the maps I've decided to ditch the pueblo plan and ride straight to denver, makes things a lot easier as I don't have my credit card until bert shows up, so can't hire a car. Denver is about an extra day's ride over going to pueblo, and I've found a great site that shows all the bike routes into the city so I can get in safely. Depending on the wind I should arrive friday, then will have a few rest days before heading off on the final stage with bertie and james.
Rough route plan to denver is Syracuse, Kansas, 50/385 to Lamar, Colorado, up the 287 to Kit Carson, 40 to Limon, 7 miles on the interstate (generally safe and quiet in countryside), then 86 and finally 83 north into denver and the bike paths. It's about 300 miles, so 4 or 5 days ish.
This stopped my face being sandblasted, and helped me detach myself from the discomfort of having wind blasting into me all day, so it made riding much easier and I managed 67 miles, way further than a normal headwind ride.It had the interesting side effect of greatly reducing the number of friendly toots and smiles from passing vehicles though, I guess it turned me from friendly, approachable-looking cyclist struggling along, into a hardcore post-apocalyptic road warrior with a disconcerting stare. Or a muppet. Who knows.
I found a working ipod nano lying on the road today, looked like it had fallen off a motorbike. Will pass it on to someone as I go. Later on a state trooper pulled over for a chat to see if i was ok as I was on a rest break by the roadside, which was cool of him. Absolutely everyone talks to me about the wind here, always in sympathy.
The land was totally flat today, and barren too. I rode over a couple of dried up river beds, it all looks very western, especially with the tumbleweeds blowing everywhere, I figure they are plant versions of me.
After looking at the maps I've decided to ditch the pueblo plan and ride straight to denver, makes things a lot easier as I don't have my credit card until bert shows up, so can't hire a car. Denver is about an extra day's ride over going to pueblo, and I've found a great site that shows all the bike routes into the city so I can get in safely. Depending on the wind I should arrive friday, then will have a few rest days before heading off on the final stage with bertie and james.
Rough route plan to denver is Syracuse, Kansas, 50/385 to Lamar, Colorado, up the 287 to Kit Carson, 40 to Limon, 7 miles on the interstate (generally safe and quiet in countryside), then 86 and finally 83 north into denver and the bike paths. It's about 300 miles, so 4 or 5 days ish.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Liberal, Kansas, Alt: 2851 ft
Just rolled into Liberal, Kansas, staying in a brand new super8 motel, nice big room, free internet and breakfast, heated pool and spa, 60 dollars (30 quid). Awesome. Liberal roughly marks the halfway point of my long journey, I've done 2,100 miles so far.
Road signs round here seem to be calculated to give parents nightmares:
It's been getting more and more desolate and isolated out here, I see why they used to think of the great plains as a desert now. No trees anymore, just stunted grassland. The air is getting drier and colder, you can feel your mouth getting dry as you breathe, and water consumption has gone up. Better carry a bit more on the bike from now on. Pretty sure I saw a baby rattlesnake on the road today too, didn't stop to investigate. Also, a cool moment, I saw my first ever tumbleweed! Rolled across the road right in front of me, and after that I could see plenty of them sailing across the fields.
It's due to be below freezing tonight, and it wasn't far off last night, I had to buy some warmer gloves today to stop my fingers falling off. In the cold weather the rattlesnakes are renowned for coming into your tent to get your body heat, which along with the high winds kinda puts me off camping. If I wake up to see one of those things in my tent's porch I'm gonna be slitting the back of the tent and escaping sharpish.
After fighting a 30mph headwind all day yesterday I finished up in Laverne, Oklahoma, a tiny 1 bar town, it was quite run down, lots of stuff closed or abandoned. I went to the bar, after accidentally calling at the christian youth centre called 'the spot', which sounded like a bar to me. Wasn't my scene at all so went round the corner to the branding iron, which was just like the bar in the deer hunter.
After Laverne I rode 75 miles through the Oklahoman Panhandle here to Liberal, crossing the border into Kansas as I did so. Saw about 3 settlements in that time, each of them tiny, with long long stretches of empty land in between. I like it. The rolling hills have disappeared, laying bare the underlying structure of the land, a gentle staircase over a thousand miles long, running from the gulf of mexico to the rockies. This is exactly what i wanted from this trip, new experiences, and to feel the geography changing across a whole continent. The panhandle is so empty that almost every car and truck waved or tooted, which felt pretty good.
Strong winds are the norm out here, as people tell me every time I stop, so I'm just going with the flow, less miles in a headwind, more on a tailwind, sit back and relax. Everyone also tells me I've come at just the right time, as in a few weeks it'll be over 100 degrees F (nearly 40C), which I've been in before in India but can't imagine riding in it. It's still snowing around Denver though, which I'll be at in a few days time, so things are gonna get interesting! I saw a house and outbuildings today that I'm sure had been hit by a tornado in the last year or two, it was utterly devastated. Luckily I'm pretty much through Tornado Alley.
At lunchtime I met a cool little dude called Jared, here he is showing off his Mongoose, which he's had for 8 years even though he's only 6. We had a long session of serious technical bike talk, and he rode through the village a little bit to see me off ("well I guess I'd best let you go then, mister"). I wouldn't be suprised to see him welding bottle cages onto his bike tomorrow, and hitting the road the day after:
I was really sad to see him go, it was cool to have a bike buddy for an hour.
From here I think I'm gonna head north to Garden City, then due west to Pueblo, where I'll hire a car, drive to boulder, chill for a few days, pick up Bert on sat night, let him acclimatise on sunday with perhaps a supported ride, then ditch the car on Monday and head off. That means I miss out all the big city hassle and finish my solo adventure without hating the last 30 miles or so. That's about 300 odd miles from here, so should be there mid next week. Batteries felt a little low early this week, but they seem to have suddenly recharged after the short day in Watonga followed by a swim and spa in Woodward's Holiday Inn. So I'm feeling good to go for Pueblo, then have some quality rest time there. I admit it will also be good to go somewhere cosmopolitan and outside the bible belt! Religion can get a little oppressive here, it's everywhere. Restaurants within a few hundred feet of churches aren't allowed to serve alcohol, in fact it's at least a week since I was able to get booze with my meal. So now I'm craving wine. Lovely wine.
Cooch, thanks for all the route info, i gotta get me a colorado map and digest what you said, I can stand some more isolated regions though no problem.
Road signs round here seem to be calculated to give parents nightmares:
It's been getting more and more desolate and isolated out here, I see why they used to think of the great plains as a desert now. No trees anymore, just stunted grassland. The air is getting drier and colder, you can feel your mouth getting dry as you breathe, and water consumption has gone up. Better carry a bit more on the bike from now on. Pretty sure I saw a baby rattlesnake on the road today too, didn't stop to investigate. Also, a cool moment, I saw my first ever tumbleweed! Rolled across the road right in front of me, and after that I could see plenty of them sailing across the fields.It's due to be below freezing tonight, and it wasn't far off last night, I had to buy some warmer gloves today to stop my fingers falling off. In the cold weather the rattlesnakes are renowned for coming into your tent to get your body heat, which along with the high winds kinda puts me off camping. If I wake up to see one of those things in my tent's porch I'm gonna be slitting the back of the tent and escaping sharpish.
After fighting a 30mph headwind all day yesterday I finished up in Laverne, Oklahoma, a tiny 1 bar town, it was quite run down, lots of stuff closed or abandoned. I went to the bar, after accidentally calling at the christian youth centre called 'the spot', which sounded like a bar to me. Wasn't my scene at all so went round the corner to the branding iron, which was just like the bar in the deer hunter.
After Laverne I rode 75 miles through the Oklahoman Panhandle here to Liberal, crossing the border into Kansas as I did so. Saw about 3 settlements in that time, each of them tiny, with long long stretches of empty land in between. I like it. The rolling hills have disappeared, laying bare the underlying structure of the land, a gentle staircase over a thousand miles long, running from the gulf of mexico to the rockies. This is exactly what i wanted from this trip, new experiences, and to feel the geography changing across a whole continent. The panhandle is so empty that almost every car and truck waved or tooted, which felt pretty good.
Strong winds are the norm out here, as people tell me every time I stop, so I'm just going with the flow, less miles in a headwind, more on a tailwind, sit back and relax. Everyone also tells me I've come at just the right time, as in a few weeks it'll be over 100 degrees F (nearly 40C), which I've been in before in India but can't imagine riding in it. It's still snowing around Denver though, which I'll be at in a few days time, so things are gonna get interesting! I saw a house and outbuildings today that I'm sure had been hit by a tornado in the last year or two, it was utterly devastated. Luckily I'm pretty much through Tornado Alley.
At lunchtime I met a cool little dude called Jared, here he is showing off his Mongoose, which he's had for 8 years even though he's only 6. We had a long session of serious technical bike talk, and he rode through the village a little bit to see me off ("well I guess I'd best let you go then, mister"). I wouldn't be suprised to see him welding bottle cages onto his bike tomorrow, and hitting the road the day after:
I was really sad to see him go, it was cool to have a bike buddy for an hour.
From here I think I'm gonna head north to Garden City, then due west to Pueblo, where I'll hire a car, drive to boulder, chill for a few days, pick up Bert on sat night, let him acclimatise on sunday with perhaps a supported ride, then ditch the car on Monday and head off. That means I miss out all the big city hassle and finish my solo adventure without hating the last 30 miles or so. That's about 300 odd miles from here, so should be there mid next week. Batteries felt a little low early this week, but they seem to have suddenly recharged after the short day in Watonga followed by a swim and spa in Woodward's Holiday Inn. So I'm feeling good to go for Pueblo, then have some quality rest time there. I admit it will also be good to go somewhere cosmopolitan and outside the bible belt! Religion can get a little oppressive here, it's everywhere. Restaurants within a few hundred feet of churches aren't allowed to serve alcohol, in fact it's at least a week since I was able to get booze with my meal. So now I'm craving wine. Lovely wine.
Cooch, thanks for all the route info, i gotta get me a colorado map and digest what you said, I can stand some more isolated regions though no problem.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Woodward, Oklahoma, Alt: 1908 ft
Another awesome day riding across the plains, I think Oklahoma is my favourite state so far. Just rolled in to Woodward and treated myself to a holiday inn with a pool. The kind manageress' parents live on my route so she's arranging for me to stay with them in Beaver, Oklahoma. Awesome!
Gained about 800 feet today over the 75 miles as I slowly climb through the high plains towards Denver, which I was shocked to find is at 6000 feet. Woodward (here) is about 1900 feet. Although the climb is obviously very gentle you can feel it, every rolling hill is a little higher up than the last one, and as the whole landscape is tilted a little it's almost impossible to tell by eye if you are climbing, flat or descending. Times when I thought I was on the flat with a descent coming up by eye were actually climbing slightly with a flat bit coming up. Bit weird.
It's so beautiful out here though, you really get a feel for the immensity of the country and the plains, looking to my right I know that the plains go all the way to canada, forwards they go to the rockies, and behind me and to my left they slope gently down in a series of gentle steps to the gulf of mexico.
It was good to have a tailwind today, in the morning I had to ride under a threatening looking region of cloud, like a dark lid, and I got all my rain gear ready, but i got through it without anything more than a strong cross wind, then the sun came out, the birds started singing, and i had a beautiful ride across the plains.
Oh yeah, for Junior, Meddler and anyone else who has seen 'Into the Wild', you can imagine how i felt when i saw this:
Bert and James are getting ready to come out, it feels great to see the planning emails flying around between us, I'm really excited about it. I think I'll head to colorado springs and hire a car to pick bertie up, drive to boulder and ditch it there ready for the final leg. James will be our support vehicle for the first week, I'm really looking forwards to riding light for a little while.
After that I'll be trying to talk my pa into flying out and driving a support RV for us to vancouver.
Right then, chillage and chow coming up.
Gained about 800 feet today over the 75 miles as I slowly climb through the high plains towards Denver, which I was shocked to find is at 6000 feet. Woodward (here) is about 1900 feet. Although the climb is obviously very gentle you can feel it, every rolling hill is a little higher up than the last one, and as the whole landscape is tilted a little it's almost impossible to tell by eye if you are climbing, flat or descending. Times when I thought I was on the flat with a descent coming up by eye were actually climbing slightly with a flat bit coming up. Bit weird.
It's so beautiful out here though, you really get a feel for the immensity of the country and the plains, looking to my right I know that the plains go all the way to canada, forwards they go to the rockies, and behind me and to my left they slope gently down in a series of gentle steps to the gulf of mexico.
It was good to have a tailwind today, in the morning I had to ride under a threatening looking region of cloud, like a dark lid, and I got all my rain gear ready, but i got through it without anything more than a strong cross wind, then the sun came out, the birds started singing, and i had a beautiful ride across the plains.
Oh yeah, for Junior, Meddler and anyone else who has seen 'Into the Wild', you can imagine how i felt when i saw this:
Bert and James are getting ready to come out, it feels great to see the planning emails flying around between us, I'm really excited about it. I think I'll head to colorado springs and hire a car to pick bertie up, drive to boulder and ditch it there ready for the final leg. James will be our support vehicle for the first week, I'm really looking forwards to riding light for a little while.
After that I'll be trying to talk my pa into flying out and driving a support RV for us to vancouver.
Right then, chillage and chow coming up.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Archers for Christ: Crossing the Red River from Texas into Oklahoma
There’s nothing to remind you better that you’re in America than to walk out of a Walmart into the gentle warmth of an Oklahoman day to see Elvis, singing his heart out selling cars in the massive carpark stuffed full of smoking bbq grills and customized classic cars, against a strip-mall skyline of American franchise signs. No pics sorry, I was off-duty.
Elvis was in his rhinestone jumpsuit phase, before the burgers and pills finished him off, but after the rural deep-south swivel-hipped youth that my mother loved so much, she cried when he died. People say that’s one of the things where you remember exactly what you were doing when it happened. I think the recent British equivalent was Princess Diana dying, the death of a pampered, over privileged socialite provoking a weird national event of official grief, newscasters using their ‘serious story’ tones, the tv and radio networks all but playing constant martial music for most of a week, people who had never met her crying and emoting. Truly bizarre, it made me angry for all the other young mothers who die every day without a word said about them. I remember where I was though, drunk as a skunk with my friends in Cardiff.
Turns out the pedals on my bike are ideal for opening bottles of beer (not whilst riding). Result. Shiner Bock will be happy.
Woke up this morning to a strong urge to stay snuggled up in the comfy beds of the Holiday Inn. A quick call to Clint on the front desk sorts it out and I am into a rest day after covering about 320 miles in 5 days from Natchitoches, averaging about 65 miles a day, ranging from 90 down to 40 ish. It’s been a really cool week, I am loving this trip, the only thing that could make it better would be for James and Bert to come out, which is cool because they are in 2 weeks. I asked the waiter dude last night where a good bar was, and he said the only decent bar was 20 miles away. The family at the next table offered to tow me there, but that seemed a little dangerous so I declined.
After my brush with fame in Mount Pleasant, Texas I left the campsite early and headed towards Paris, Texas. The pine hill forest fades out into more and more open grassland. There is a tail wind, the road is fast, flat and smooth, and I tear along the highway at 20mph or so, reaching Paris by noon. A quick pit stop in a superstore and I’m in the centre. It’s a nice little town with a square, but I’m not in a stopping mood so head on through, finding my exit road easily enough and heading North-west towards Oklahoma.
It seems people are ready for the crusades around here, I pass a sign declaring that it’s the home of Archers for Christ. I’m not really sure what they do on their weekends, but it doesn’t sound healthy.
I have to admit, as I sit here writing this with my laptop playing cool tunes, my bike next to me ready to open more beers, and a 6 pack of shiner bock steadily decreasing, that I am quite liking my new life. Now I just need to find a way to make it pay.
Highway 79 from Paris leads me to the most isolated section I’ve ridden so far. The land is open grassland, incredibly beautiful and stretching away to the horizon. Imagine a lush, fairytale meadow, full of wildflowers, streams, lakes and birds, then drape it over gently rolling terrain and cover it in a blue sky.
There are hardly any houses, many of them are abandoned, the car count drops to one per hour and all is peaceful. Unfortunately, the houses that are around usually have at least one dog, each of which is outraged at the thought of a cyclist using the public road, and the dog attack count soars. Each one howls in disbelief when it spots me, then comes bounding several hundred meters from the house to the road, barking aggressively and snapping at my heels, growling and baring their teeth. I notice that my body hair fluffs up every time, a hardwired reaction from the days when we were hairy like chimpanzees and fluffing up made us appear bigger to put off an attacker. It doesn’t do much to help me though.
I really hate it when dogs harass me like this, and although I must have gone through several hundred of these encounters each one feels like they are gonna start tearing through my leg and pull me off. I get sick of it real quick, especially when the owner shouts something like ‘he’s only playing’. Yeah right lady. I like dogs, but one of these days I’m gonna buy some pepper spray and see how fido likes it. No doubt the owner will be horrified at me spraying their lovable family pet, just like whenever someone gets attacked the dog was always ‘provoked’. Having seen my friend George being bitten on the ass whilst jogging through the park I know this is rubbish. At one point I have 3 dogs harassing me as I ride along, no fun at all. I have a big knife in easy reach on the handlebars just in case it actually does turn serious and one of them drags me off the bike and goes for my throat, but hope never to use it. I guess I look a bit like a stray herd animal on the bike, but I wish people would keep control of the damn things.
Packs of wild dogs are even more scary, I haven’t seen any here yet, but several times when riding across Spain I would be in a remote area, hear excited barking and the pack would come bounding through the countryside at top speed. I would have no way of speeding up being in a dip between hills. This is quite a scary sensation, the only thing that kept the fear down was that if they were a problem the Spanish would have shot them immediately, not having the British qualms over such actions. But the packs seemed to be more happy to see me than anything, and would stop at the roadside barking excitedly without harassing me.
After at least 30 angry dog encounters I roll into Telephone, a few miles before the bridge over the red river into Oklahoma at Sowells Bluff. I can feel it’s going to rain, I’ve done 90 miles and the next campsite is still 10 miles away so I take a little cabin at the Telephone Travellers Rest. It is utterly deserted round here, tiny little communities of a few houses, everything quiet, the gas station a haven of tranquility. The people here speak with German-American accents, making it feel even more isolated.
Later on the wind picks up, the sky darkens and I can hear distant thunder. Suddenly the rain starts, and the world is lit by a long, blinding, ultra-white lightening flash that seems to go on for at least a second, not the quick blink of a british storm but a long, drawn out white-out. Then the thunder, not the boom and rumble of a British storm, but whip-crack shockwaves shaking the building, I can feel the air in my lungs being pummeled, and the crack-boom is so loud I have to stop myself dropping to my knees and putting my hands over my ears like a child.
Well, I wanted proper weather on this trip and it looks like I’m in for it. The rain moves in properly, so dense it looks like a fogbank approaching, cutting off the outside world as it sweeps before the wind. All the land immediately disappears under about an inch of spattering water, everywhere is so flat there is no time for it to drain, and I see places I would have happily camped in turning into massive puddles. A big truck drives past, sending up plumes of water on both sides that reach way higher than its cab. I can’t imagine any tent standing up to this onslaught and am glad I took the cabin.
People often ask me what I do when it rains, and I rather glibly reply that I’m British and used to rain so just keep going. I’ve changed my mind about that now, the road would be no place to weather a zero visibility downpour like this and I’ll seek shelter wherever I can.
The storm is so intense it’s actually quite frightening. Doobie from Marley’s Marina said that when he first moved down south the storms scared him and I didn’t think much about it, but I understand now.
But my little wooden cabin is keeping me dry and safe, even though the constant massive lightening strikes are a bit of a concern, and the thunder keeps trying to trigger my animal reflexes. My apprehension is upped significantly when I look round the side of the building and see the unmistakable shape of a tornado funnel reaching down from the clouds, with dirty dark patches of cloud forming in the gap between the funnel and the ground. I stare in disbelief and horror, it is only a few miles away and I can’t see any lateral movement which means it’s probably heading towards me. I go inside and turn on the tv to see if there are any ‘get inside’ warnings going on, but after a minute or so the satellite tv goes dead. Hmm.
I look outside and to my horror the funnel has got a lot bigger, well defined, and closer to the ground. After seeing many of those ‘extreme weather’ and ‘storm chaser’ programs I know that most of these things don’t actually turn into tornadoes, but some of them do, and it’s just over there! I consider running to the nearest house and telling them about it, but the occasional car driving past doesn’t look panicked, and there are cars going both towards and away from the storm, so I figure it’s probably quite a common occurrence. Just in case I identify the safest bit of my cabin, the bathroom, and get ready to take the table and mattress in there to cower behind. I grab my wallet so that my body can be identified, my phone to call for help, and my camera to take cool pics. Happily the funnel gradually gets wider and moves away to the northeast, dissipating as it goes, and I relax, keeping a wary eye out for other funnels and being impressed by the atomic lightening. The tv comes back up and has a special on a tornado formed by this very storm shortly before, about 100 miles away in Forth Worth. So these things are real, and scary, and I don’t ever want to be anywhere near one.
The storm marked the passing of a front, and the next morning my usual tail wind turns into a headwind, a river of chilled air streaming down from the still-frozen north. I figure I’ll get breakfast at the next little town but have underestimated the isolation and it’s 30 miles before I find hot food, a very welcome bacon cheeseburger and fries in a gas station (where y‘all from?), it sure is tasty. I cross the Red River into Oklahoma, the river really is red from cutting a deep channel through the red earth of the plains, and very beautiful, but the bridge is no place to stop and take photos. Just before I crossed the bridge I rode past a run-down house with a couple of decayed animals hanging by the neck next to the road. Unsettling to say the least. Best to keep riding.
The bridge over the Red River into Oklahoma:
Oklahoma calls itself ‘Native America’, which I take as a bad joke after reading up on Native American history before I came out here. Ethnic cleansing, brutality and colonialism is no stranger to the country that prides itself on freeing itself from colonialism and standing for liberty and human rights.
The sun is welcoming here on the plains, the colour of warm golden honey, the sunlight feels almost tangible, enveloping you in its soft embrace when you step out of the shade. Further south it had a much harder edge to it, you felt like it was shining straight through you. An old lady worked in a Florida Walmart on the door, ostensibly to meet ‘n greet, but really to keep an eye out for shoplifters. I asked her where a cash machine was, to be greeted by a long blank stare, later I realized that I should have asked for an ATM. Her face was deeply lined, cracked and expressionless, like a sun-baked mudflat, covered in foundation with rosy cheeks painted on. Her long vacant stare made me feel that the harsh sun had shone through her eyes too much during her life, tracking daily across the back of her once-lively skull, bleaching out the joyful colours of a human mind and turning it into a faded sepia photograph locked in a dark and empty attic.
I gladly end the day early in a holiday inn in Durant, Oklahoma, the freezing headwind and long cold hours without food destroying my urge to camp rough in the prairie.
Elvis was in his rhinestone jumpsuit phase, before the burgers and pills finished him off, but after the rural deep-south swivel-hipped youth that my mother loved so much, she cried when he died. People say that’s one of the things where you remember exactly what you were doing when it happened. I think the recent British equivalent was Princess Diana dying, the death of a pampered, over privileged socialite provoking a weird national event of official grief, newscasters using their ‘serious story’ tones, the tv and radio networks all but playing constant martial music for most of a week, people who had never met her crying and emoting. Truly bizarre, it made me angry for all the other young mothers who die every day without a word said about them. I remember where I was though, drunk as a skunk with my friends in Cardiff.
Turns out the pedals on my bike are ideal for opening bottles of beer (not whilst riding). Result. Shiner Bock will be happy.
Woke up this morning to a strong urge to stay snuggled up in the comfy beds of the Holiday Inn. A quick call to Clint on the front desk sorts it out and I am into a rest day after covering about 320 miles in 5 days from Natchitoches, averaging about 65 miles a day, ranging from 90 down to 40 ish. It’s been a really cool week, I am loving this trip, the only thing that could make it better would be for James and Bert to come out, which is cool because they are in 2 weeks. I asked the waiter dude last night where a good bar was, and he said the only decent bar was 20 miles away. The family at the next table offered to tow me there, but that seemed a little dangerous so I declined.
After my brush with fame in Mount Pleasant, Texas I left the campsite early and headed towards Paris, Texas. The pine hill forest fades out into more and more open grassland. There is a tail wind, the road is fast, flat and smooth, and I tear along the highway at 20mph or so, reaching Paris by noon. A quick pit stop in a superstore and I’m in the centre. It’s a nice little town with a square, but I’m not in a stopping mood so head on through, finding my exit road easily enough and heading North-west towards Oklahoma.
It seems people are ready for the crusades around here, I pass a sign declaring that it’s the home of Archers for Christ. I’m not really sure what they do on their weekends, but it doesn’t sound healthy.
I have to admit, as I sit here writing this with my laptop playing cool tunes, my bike next to me ready to open more beers, and a 6 pack of shiner bock steadily decreasing, that I am quite liking my new life. Now I just need to find a way to make it pay.
Highway 79 from Paris leads me to the most isolated section I’ve ridden so far. The land is open grassland, incredibly beautiful and stretching away to the horizon. Imagine a lush, fairytale meadow, full of wildflowers, streams, lakes and birds, then drape it over gently rolling terrain and cover it in a blue sky.
There are hardly any houses, many of them are abandoned, the car count drops to one per hour and all is peaceful. Unfortunately, the houses that are around usually have at least one dog, each of which is outraged at the thought of a cyclist using the public road, and the dog attack count soars. Each one howls in disbelief when it spots me, then comes bounding several hundred meters from the house to the road, barking aggressively and snapping at my heels, growling and baring their teeth. I notice that my body hair fluffs up every time, a hardwired reaction from the days when we were hairy like chimpanzees and fluffing up made us appear bigger to put off an attacker. It doesn’t do much to help me though.I really hate it when dogs harass me like this, and although I must have gone through several hundred of these encounters each one feels like they are gonna start tearing through my leg and pull me off. I get sick of it real quick, especially when the owner shouts something like ‘he’s only playing’. Yeah right lady. I like dogs, but one of these days I’m gonna buy some pepper spray and see how fido likes it. No doubt the owner will be horrified at me spraying their lovable family pet, just like whenever someone gets attacked the dog was always ‘provoked’. Having seen my friend George being bitten on the ass whilst jogging through the park I know this is rubbish. At one point I have 3 dogs harassing me as I ride along, no fun at all. I have a big knife in easy reach on the handlebars just in case it actually does turn serious and one of them drags me off the bike and goes for my throat, but hope never to use it. I guess I look a bit like a stray herd animal on the bike, but I wish people would keep control of the damn things.
Packs of wild dogs are even more scary, I haven’t seen any here yet, but several times when riding across Spain I would be in a remote area, hear excited barking and the pack would come bounding through the countryside at top speed. I would have no way of speeding up being in a dip between hills. This is quite a scary sensation, the only thing that kept the fear down was that if they were a problem the Spanish would have shot them immediately, not having the British qualms over such actions. But the packs seemed to be more happy to see me than anything, and would stop at the roadside barking excitedly without harassing me.
After at least 30 angry dog encounters I roll into Telephone, a few miles before the bridge over the red river into Oklahoma at Sowells Bluff. I can feel it’s going to rain, I’ve done 90 miles and the next campsite is still 10 miles away so I take a little cabin at the Telephone Travellers Rest. It is utterly deserted round here, tiny little communities of a few houses, everything quiet, the gas station a haven of tranquility. The people here speak with German-American accents, making it feel even more isolated.
Later on the wind picks up, the sky darkens and I can hear distant thunder. Suddenly the rain starts, and the world is lit by a long, blinding, ultra-white lightening flash that seems to go on for at least a second, not the quick blink of a british storm but a long, drawn out white-out. Then the thunder, not the boom and rumble of a British storm, but whip-crack shockwaves shaking the building, I can feel the air in my lungs being pummeled, and the crack-boom is so loud I have to stop myself dropping to my knees and putting my hands over my ears like a child.
Well, I wanted proper weather on this trip and it looks like I’m in for it. The rain moves in properly, so dense it looks like a fogbank approaching, cutting off the outside world as it sweeps before the wind. All the land immediately disappears under about an inch of spattering water, everywhere is so flat there is no time for it to drain, and I see places I would have happily camped in turning into massive puddles. A big truck drives past, sending up plumes of water on both sides that reach way higher than its cab. I can’t imagine any tent standing up to this onslaught and am glad I took the cabin.
People often ask me what I do when it rains, and I rather glibly reply that I’m British and used to rain so just keep going. I’ve changed my mind about that now, the road would be no place to weather a zero visibility downpour like this and I’ll seek shelter wherever I can.
The storm is so intense it’s actually quite frightening. Doobie from Marley’s Marina said that when he first moved down south the storms scared him and I didn’t think much about it, but I understand now.
But my little wooden cabin is keeping me dry and safe, even though the constant massive lightening strikes are a bit of a concern, and the thunder keeps trying to trigger my animal reflexes. My apprehension is upped significantly when I look round the side of the building and see the unmistakable shape of a tornado funnel reaching down from the clouds, with dirty dark patches of cloud forming in the gap between the funnel and the ground. I stare in disbelief and horror, it is only a few miles away and I can’t see any lateral movement which means it’s probably heading towards me. I go inside and turn on the tv to see if there are any ‘get inside’ warnings going on, but after a minute or so the satellite tv goes dead. Hmm.
I look outside and to my horror the funnel has got a lot bigger, well defined, and closer to the ground. After seeing many of those ‘extreme weather’ and ‘storm chaser’ programs I know that most of these things don’t actually turn into tornadoes, but some of them do, and it’s just over there! I consider running to the nearest house and telling them about it, but the occasional car driving past doesn’t look panicked, and there are cars going both towards and away from the storm, so I figure it’s probably quite a common occurrence. Just in case I identify the safest bit of my cabin, the bathroom, and get ready to take the table and mattress in there to cower behind. I grab my wallet so that my body can be identified, my phone to call for help, and my camera to take cool pics. Happily the funnel gradually gets wider and moves away to the northeast, dissipating as it goes, and I relax, keeping a wary eye out for other funnels and being impressed by the atomic lightening. The tv comes back up and has a special on a tornado formed by this very storm shortly before, about 100 miles away in Forth Worth. So these things are real, and scary, and I don’t ever want to be anywhere near one.
The storm marked the passing of a front, and the next morning my usual tail wind turns into a headwind, a river of chilled air streaming down from the still-frozen north. I figure I’ll get breakfast at the next little town but have underestimated the isolation and it’s 30 miles before I find hot food, a very welcome bacon cheeseburger and fries in a gas station (where y‘all from?), it sure is tasty. I cross the Red River into Oklahoma, the river really is red from cutting a deep channel through the red earth of the plains, and very beautiful, but the bridge is no place to stop and take photos. Just before I crossed the bridge I rode past a run-down house with a couple of decayed animals hanging by the neck next to the road. Unsettling to say the least. Best to keep riding.
The bridge over the Red River into Oklahoma:
Oklahoma calls itself ‘Native America’, which I take as a bad joke after reading up on Native American history before I came out here. Ethnic cleansing, brutality and colonialism is no stranger to the country that prides itself on freeing itself from colonialism and standing for liberty and human rights.
The sun is welcoming here on the plains, the colour of warm golden honey, the sunlight feels almost tangible, enveloping you in its soft embrace when you step out of the shade. Further south it had a much harder edge to it, you felt like it was shining straight through you. An old lady worked in a Florida Walmart on the door, ostensibly to meet ‘n greet, but really to keep an eye out for shoplifters. I asked her where a cash machine was, to be greeted by a long blank stare, later I realized that I should have asked for an ATM. Her face was deeply lined, cracked and expressionless, like a sun-baked mudflat, covered in foundation with rosy cheeks painted on. Her long vacant stare made me feel that the harsh sun had shone through her eyes too much during her life, tracking daily across the back of her once-lively skull, bleaching out the joyful colours of a human mind and turning it into a faded sepia photograph locked in a dark and empty attic.
I gladly end the day early in a holiday inn in Durant, Oklahoma, the freezing headwind and long cold hours without food destroying my urge to camp rough in the prairie.
Watonga, Oklahoma
Just quick update, more will follow later. After an awesomely beautiful, quiet and isolated ride I camped just outside Geary, Oklahoma last night, in a campsite behind a Cherokee Trading Post. Good buffalo burgers. Rode 30 miles north this morning with what started out as mist turning into more and more fog, didn't think anything of it until i heard thunder rumbling, luckily got into Watonga just as it kicked off properly and hid in a friendly cafe, discussing rattlesnakes, cockroaches, cougars, camping rough and travelling in general with some of the good ole boys, who were just like the lead guys from mythbusters. Was a good laugh. Turns out it's severe thunderstorms all the way to the texas panhandle, and tornado watch south of here, when the power started going out in the town figured it was a good day to stop early in the nice cheap motel next door.
Check out weather underground for some good weather stuff of where I am, heres the link for the closest town:
http://www.wunderground.com/US/OK/Woodward.html
I'm gonna chill for a bit, get some eats and stick up loadsa photos.
Check out weather underground for some good weather stuff of where I am, heres the link for the closest town:
http://www.wunderground.com/US/OK/Woodward.html
I'm gonna chill for a bit, get some eats and stick up loadsa photos.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Severe Storm Warning
check this out, locations in the warning below are about 20 miles from me. Looking out the door I can see the 'supercell' cloud that can produce tornadoes, an evil looking thing towering over the horizon, a big boiling block of white cloud like a flattened mushroom cloud, flashing with internal lightening, looking like something out of the end of the world.
A local just came out and said "Man look at that cloud! That's a hell of a supercell, right there!"
Here's the storm warning:
.. A Severe Thunderstorm Warning remains in effect until 900 PM CDT
for northern Garvin and southwestern McClain counties...
At 829 PM CDT... National Weather Service Doppler radar detected a
severe thunderstorm 5 miles west of Maysville... moving east at 15
mph. Another severe storm was located 8 miles northeast of Payne.
Hail up to the size two inches and winds of 65 mph are likely.
Severe thunderstorms can produce tornadoes with no advance warning.
Move immediately to a storm shelter... basement or sturdy building if
a tornado is sighted.
Route for next few days
Things are getting quite isolated out here, it's about 150 miles between bike shops from what i can see. The landscape is getting less and less populated, pretty much all the side roads i saw today were unsurfaced.
Rough route from here is weatherford, woodward, beaver, liberal (kansas), which seems to have a bike shop, then johnson city or ulysses (kansas), then across colorado somehow. Will cross the Canadian River in a couple days. I'm about 650 miles or so from Denver, although there is a rumour that bertie wants to meet in boulder, which is northwest of denver, so i may skirt denver and go via colorado springs instead as i hate riding in big cities.
land is also getting drier and drier, can see that it will turn into desert west of here, it's still beautiful though
bike is going no problems, hope it stays that way
heat was in the high 80's today, no wonder i was struggling a bit, it kinda sneaks up on you cos you're out in it all day, but when i left my room just now, man it was hot
Rough route from here is weatherford, woodward, beaver, liberal (kansas), which seems to have a bike shop, then johnson city or ulysses (kansas), then across colorado somehow. Will cross the Canadian River in a couple days. I'm about 650 miles or so from Denver, although there is a rumour that bertie wants to meet in boulder, which is northwest of denver, so i may skirt denver and go via colorado springs instead as i hate riding in big cities.
land is also getting drier and drier, can see that it will turn into desert west of here, it's still beautiful though
bike is going no problems, hope it stays that way
heat was in the high 80's today, no wonder i was struggling a bit, it kinda sneaks up on you cos you're out in it all day, but when i left my room just now, man it was hot
Monday, April 21, 2008
Chickasha, Oklahoma
just quick update, wifi real dodgy in this cheap motel so prob not gonna be able to upload pics. Stayed in a campsite in Sulphur last night, shoulda been 25 dollars but kind lady did it for 5 as i'm only in a wee tent. Long hard hot ride to Chickasha today, plains look flat but actually loads of short sharp hills in and out of creeks. Gonna do some laundry and have a good feed, will try to write more later. Really appreciate all the comments, I well look forwards to getting some internet so can read them, keeps me going up them hills!
have had a lot of dogs harassing me, but when i mentioned i was riding in a sandwich shop they started telling me how one of their friends got attacked by a mountain lion (cougar) whilst cycling! Apparently there's loads of them around this way. Scary.
might have another rest day tomorrow as knees are twinging a little from all the climbing, we will see, in good shape really
laters
have had a lot of dogs harassing me, but when i mentioned i was riding in a sandwich shop they started telling me how one of their friends got attacked by a mountain lion (cougar) whilst cycling! Apparently there's loads of them around this way. Scary.
might have another rest day tomorrow as knees are twinging a little from all the climbing, we will see, in good shape really
laters
Friday, April 18, 2008
Durant, Oklahoma
Just a quick post, stayed in Telephone, just north-west of Paris, Texas, last night. Experienced a 'severe thunderstorm', which was damn scary, especially as I could see a tornado forming only a few miles away - could clearly see the funnel forming, and dirty bits of cloud appearing between the bottom of the funnel and the ground. Doesn't really come out in the pics as it was so dark, but it was quite a shock to see it when i stepped outside.
Turns out this storm produced a real tornado an hour or so before it got to me, in Fort Worth, about 100 miles away.
Luckily it dissipated before becoming a full-on one,
but it's as close to one as i ever want to get. The thunder was so strong and close it was shaking the building, and when the rain started all the land immediately disappeared under an inch of water. Luckily i'd taken a little cabin rather than camping rough, so was snug and dry.Been a real strong cold headwind from the north today, i been slogging along at 8mph, so have called it a day after about 50 miles and checked into a holiday inn. Crossed the Red River, which really was red into Oklahoma. More laters.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Frequently Asked Questions
I've been asked a lot of questions on this tour, so i thought I'd put them up to give you office workers a little insight into my new life. I've stuck up another big post below this one full of pics, so you may wanna skip straight to that.
Hey man, where y’all from?
I’m from the UK.
Huh?
I’m .. from … the … uk. You may have trouble understanding my ‘thick british accent‘, as my mate Brandon describes it.
Oh man I love England!
Actually I’m from Wales. Wales is one of the states that makes up the UK, along with England, Northern Ireland and Scotland.
Oh, I thought England was the UK!
No, that’s like saying that Texas is America. Wales, Scotland and Ireland have their own languages and culture too. It’s the same sort of setup as the USA, but with a bigger difference between the states from what I’ve seen so far. England is by far the biggest state in terms of population though.
They really have their own languages?
Yep, celtic languages, different from latin languages like Spanish, it’s all very old. A good percentage of the population in wales/Scotland/Ireland will speak English as a second language.
Is the culture very different from here?
Umm, no not really to be honest. America is a more right wing, religous and conservative, Britain is a more left wing, secular and liberal. But they’ve got a lot more in common than apart I think. Also, we are a post-imperial declining power, and you guys are the major superpower at the moment.
At the moment!
Well, yeah, nothing lasts forever. Empires rise and fall.
We’re not an empire!
Lets leave this discussion for another time, it’s a bit deep for a cycling faq.
Where you riding from?
I’m riding from Miami to Seattle, started out a few weeks ago, it’ll take me a couple months in total to ride.
Miami, FLORIDA to Seattle, WASHINGTON???
Yep
Man! I drove across Florida once and thought I was never gonna get there! I can’t imagine cycling all that way!
It’s a different experience, I feel the same way as you when I’m driving, but on the bike you have a different mindset, once you got the fitness you just sit there and watch the miles go by. It’s not like a car where you get bored, you’re always doing something - dodging potholes, managing your body, looking at the road kill. Quite often I find I’ve done about 20 or 30 more miles than I thought I had. Even weirder, sometimes I’ll stop to think about whether to carry on or stop for the day, and while I’m engrossed in that my body saddles up and starts riding again, and when I come out of my deep thought mode I realise I’ve ridden a few miles and the decision has been made for me by my body!
Where you going after Seattle?
Vancouver
Huh? Where?
Vancouver, Canada, it’s just across the border from Seattle. I’m probably gonna drive from Vancouver to Toronto, where I’ll meet up with most of my family.
How do you choose your route?
Well, I know I gotta aim for denver then seattle, so I basically draw a line on the map and take the smallest roads I can find that stay as close to that line as possible. So every night I plan a detailed route for the next day, and I have a rough plan for the couple days after that, and a very rough plan for the couple weeks after that.
Don’t you use the interstates?
No way! Too dangerous, and anyway the little roads are way nicer.
Do you have a gps or something?
Nope! Too big and heavy, and you gotta have batteries, you can’t use it to plan a route, and it’s no fun. I use a map on the handlebars, and I’ve got a compass there too
You really need a compass?
For sure, it’s really handy, especially when you get into a city and there’s a roundabout with 6 exits and none of them signposted for where you want to go. I didn’t take a compass on my last trip and regretted it, it’s none too easy navigating by the sun in a city. Seems crazy in the 21st century, having to rely on the sun and a compass, but there you go.
What do you take with you on a trip like this?
As little as possible, weight and volume are crucial. I’ve got a small tent, weighs about 1kg / 2 lbs, shorts and a couple of t-shirts, some cold weather bike gear, emergency spares and first-aid kit, sleeping bag, that’s about it. You don’t need much to live really, it’s surprising.
Have you been planning this a long time?
Initially I thought people meant ‘did it take a long time to arrange the logistics’ as I’m a literal minded guy. Eventually I sussed that they really meant “have you always wanted to ride across america”. Disappointingly, it’s always been something at the back of my mind behind a lot of other stuff, and it just suddenly leaped to the front one day whilst lying on the sofa at my good friend Bert’s house in Brighton, UK. I’m quite spontaneous, so booked the flights as soon as I’d determined when the weather window was. From deciding to flying was about 3 months, and a lot of that was waiting for the weather window.
Where do you sleep?
A mixture of campsites, motels, camping rough in a field somewhere, and kind people putting me up. I was struggling with the heat for the first few weeks so stayed in cheap motels mostly, then I stayed with my buddy Brandon for a couple of nights, since then I’ve mostly been camping. From now on will be a lot of camping, either rough or in a campsite. It’s good to have a motel on a rest day though, so I’ll be in a motel a couple nights a week.
How do you find somewhere to stay?
Just ride for about 70 miles then look for somewhere. I usually have a rough idea of where motels and campsites will be from looking at the map, and I ask locals as I get close, they always know where stuff is.
What about all the crazy people/serial killers/muggers/criminals?
Travelling solo does sound scary, there’s nobody to look out for you, and if you disappear nobody will look for you for a while. But it just isn’t like that, pretty much everybody along the route looks out for you. I’ve been through some pretty rough areas and met nothing but kindness and offers of help. You also develop a pretty good sense of danger. In fact, the only time I’ve felt at all uncomfortable on this trip was when I was cornered by some full-on evangelist born again christian preachers, who as soon as they found I was a non-believer (well, I actually said I was a militant atheist) subtly blocked my exits, went into aggressive body language and wouldn’t let go of my hand! But they were nice really, just concerned about my soul. Good luck with that.
Don’t you get lonely?
Umm, not really. A little bit sometimes, but in the same way that if you travel a long time with someone you can get a bit fed up of them and need a little time on your own. There’s usually a low point about a week into a solo trip where you see a beach full of people having fun and you feel a bit left out, but it soon passes. Luckily I’m a bit of a loner anyway and am quite self contained. It’s great to have good friends along, but it’s also great to travel solo for a while. A mixture is best. Going too long without seeing anyone you know, or having time to build friendships, is not good for your mental health though.
Why are you doing this?
It just felt right. I know you’re expecting me to say I’m doing it for charity, or to make a statement, or something like that, but really it’s just because I love doing this stuff.
How can you afford to do it?
Saved up, sold my car, rented out my apartment. Camping is cheap, so I get by on about 40 dollars a day or so, more if I’m in a motel or have to fix the bike.
Don’t your parents worry about you?
Yes.
How do you keep in touch? Do you have a laptop or something?
I have a prepaid cellphone that lets me make international calls fairly cheaply. I didn’t have a laptop for the first month but just bought one as wifi is everywhere and it’s dead handy to have one, even though you pay a significant penalty in weight and size. I think it’s worth it, although the rockies may change my mind about that. If you see a laptop floating in a river somewhere it’s probably from a touring cyclist.
Do you really throw stuff away like that?
Yep, big time. At the end of the first day I threw away my trousers, t-shirts, sunglasses, books, maps, camping stove, cooking pots, normal size bottles of shampoo and toothpaste (I bought some tiny ones instead), some spares and tools, and lots of other stuff I’ve forgotten about for now. For the next few days I ruthlessly shed stuff until I reached my happy minimum. It’s no joke that touring cyclists really do cut the handles off their toothbrushes and the labels off their clothes.
How fast can that thing go?
Down a big hill you can do about 60, it gets pretty scary though. On the flat you can sprint up to about 30, but cruise is usually about 15mph.
How often do you wash your bike clothes?
Erm, well, it usually turns out to be about once a week! After that they are usually greasy and horrible, although for some reason the strong sun seems to stop them stinking too bad (you may disagree, I saw you take a step back when you got close), maybe because the sweat evaporates immediately.
You’re very brown
Check out my farmer’s tan! (Lift t-shirt sleeve to show blinding white skin). Quit laughing!
Well you look great, look at those legs!
I get quite shy when you are gawping at me in my skintight lycra.
It must be a great way to lose weight
Yeah, for sure, I’ve lost about 13lbs / 6 kg since I started, and that’s on a constant all-you-can-eat diet of pizzas burgers donuts fruit snack bars and chocolate muffins. In fact, I’m a bit sick of eating so much now! But no eat, no miles.
What’s the longest you ride?
Usually I do about 70 miles or so at a fairly steady 15 miles an hour, which works out at about 6 hours including breaks. I usually stop for 5 minutes every hour just to get off the bike, and chopping up the ride makes it a lot easier. There are usually supermarket and gas station stops for food and water too. The longest I rode in one day was 137 miles, which was 12 hours, dawn until dusk, but that was too much to do every day. These days I’ve taken to having a decent, hour-long break for lunch with some solid food, and have something light in the evening. Breakfast is usually a quick carb-fest stuffed down as I’m getting ready to roll.
You will be real careful on those roads, won’t you?
I promise. I’m way better in traffic that I was when I started, and I was pretty good then. You kinda develop a sense of danger, and I’ve only had to jam my brakes on about twice in 1300 miles, and each of those times I’d spotted the potential danger and was well prepared for it. I’m mostly on tiny wee roads anyway. In general, american drivers are quite courteous and considerate, often giving me an entire lane when they overtake as long as it’s quiet. If it’s busy then things get a bit more hassled and they tend to squeeze past, which is why I avoid big cities and rush hours.
How long have you been cycling?
Well, I rode a lot when I was a teenager, dropped it when I got a car at around 19, and took it up again about 10 years ago when I started commuting to work, and did my first bike tour in spain.
Don’t you have a mirror to see what’s going on behind?
I keep thinking about getting one, but it’s extra weight and it’ll probably get broken soon enough. My main objection is that your main method of communication with the other drivers is your head movements. Arm signals come a long way behind, you only use those when you‘re about to turn. Looking over your shoulder (or usually just pretending too, cos I can tell whats going on behind using my ears with a suprising degree of accuracy) is a clear signal to the driver that you know they are there, and you’re not gonna do anything stupid. Once you have a mirror you tend to stop doing this, and drivers get confused as you seem to be cycling along obliviously. I’ve noticed this myself when following cyclists with mirrors, even with all my cycling experience I find mirror cyclists very unpredictable. The best way to get a driver to give you space is panicky looks over your shoulder in traffic, that comes across clearly and they will almost always back off and give you space. So, in short, I don’t really like mirrors, which I guess puts me in the hardcore-purist category, which I think is the only time I’m ever in that category. Go figure.
Do you have a camera?
Yeah, I have a little one that I keep in my back pocket, which I mostly use to take wobbly shots of striking bits of the road and scenery without stopping. Some of my friends like to stop all the time and take pics, but I have serious miles to do, and they’re not here. This usually leads to minor but amusing friction when they come out to ride with me!
Whas sorta gas mileage you get with that thing?
About 10 miles per chocolate muffin, or about 40 for a large bacon cheeseburger, fries and a coke ;-)
Man, you must have seen some interesting things!
This one has given me the most food for thought. The cycle touring life is actually quite focused and monastic: get up at dawn, ride all day, eat, sleep, repeat. I’m usually too tired at the end of the day for wild adventures in bars and clubs. So mostly what I’ve seen is roads, road kill, wildlife and friendly people.
Are you running away from something?
Good question, but not really, unless you count running away from a life that had gone a little stale. I’m more drifting with fate to see where I end up, and having lots of fun on the way.
Don’t you worry about your stuff being stolen?
Umm, not really, no. I have a little lock for the bike that will stop an opportunistic thief running off with it, but as it’s covered in mudguards/fenders, racks, bottles, bags, grease, sweat, dust, it’s not the most attractive bike for a thief. Most of the time I’m in tiny towns and villages where I happily leave it outside shops and restaurants without locking it, you can generally feel how safe a place is. I never leave it too long though, and I carry my wallet on me. Basically, if you care about something, you shouldn’t take it on a bike tour! That is the best defence against theft.
Hey man, where y’all from?
I’m from the UK.
Huh?
Oh man I love England!
Actually I’m from Wales. Wales is one of the states that makes up the UK, along with England, Northern Ireland and Scotland.
Oh, I thought England was the UK!
No, that’s like saying that Texas is America. Wales, Scotland and Ireland have their own languages and culture too. It’s the same sort of setup as the USA, but with a bigger difference between the states from what I’ve seen so far. England is by far the biggest state in terms of population though.
They really have their own languages?
Yep, celtic languages, different from latin languages like Spanish, it’s all very old. A good percentage of the population in wales/Scotland/Ireland will speak English as a second language.
Is the culture very different from here?
Umm, no not really to be honest. America is a more right wing, religous and conservative, Britain is a more left wing, secular and liberal. But they’ve got a lot more in common than apart I think. Also, we are a post-imperial declining power, and you guys are the major superpower at the moment.
At the moment!
Well, yeah, nothing lasts forever. Empires rise and fall.
We’re not an empire!
Lets leave this discussion for another time, it’s a bit deep for a cycling faq.
Where you riding from?
I’m riding from Miami to Seattle, started out a few weeks ago, it’ll take me a couple months in total to ride.
Miami, FLORIDA to Seattle, WASHINGTON???
Yep
Man! I drove across Florida once and thought I was never gonna get there! I can’t imagine cycling all that way!
It’s a different experience, I feel the same way as you when I’m driving, but on the bike you have a different mindset, once you got the fitness you just sit there and watch the miles go by. It’s not like a car where you get bored, you’re always doing something - dodging potholes, managing your body, looking at the road kill. Quite often I find I’ve done about 20 or 30 more miles than I thought I had. Even weirder, sometimes I’ll stop to think about whether to carry on or stop for the day, and while I’m engrossed in that my body saddles up and starts riding again, and when I come out of my deep thought mode I realise I’ve ridden a few miles and the decision has been made for me by my body!
Where you going after Seattle?
Vancouver
Huh? Where?
Vancouver, Canada, it’s just across the border from Seattle. I’m probably gonna drive from Vancouver to Toronto, where I’ll meet up with most of my family.
How do you choose your route?
Well, I know I gotta aim for denver then seattle, so I basically draw a line on the map and take the smallest roads I can find that stay as close to that line as possible. So every night I plan a detailed route for the next day, and I have a rough plan for the couple days after that, and a very rough plan for the couple weeks after that.
Don’t you use the interstates?
No way! Too dangerous, and anyway the little roads are way nicer.
Do you have a gps or something?
Nope! Too big and heavy, and you gotta have batteries, you can’t use it to plan a route, and it’s no fun. I use a map on the handlebars, and I’ve got a compass there too
You really need a compass?
For sure, it’s really handy, especially when you get into a city and there’s a roundabout with 6 exits and none of them signposted for where you want to go. I didn’t take a compass on my last trip and regretted it, it’s none too easy navigating by the sun in a city. Seems crazy in the 21st century, having to rely on the sun and a compass, but there you go.
What do you take with you on a trip like this?
As little as possible, weight and volume are crucial. I’ve got a small tent, weighs about 1kg / 2 lbs, shorts and a couple of t-shirts, some cold weather bike gear, emergency spares and first-aid kit, sleeping bag, that’s about it. You don’t need much to live really, it’s surprising.
Have you been planning this a long time?
Initially I thought people meant ‘did it take a long time to arrange the logistics’ as I’m a literal minded guy. Eventually I sussed that they really meant “have you always wanted to ride across america”. Disappointingly, it’s always been something at the back of my mind behind a lot of other stuff, and it just suddenly leaped to the front one day whilst lying on the sofa at my good friend Bert’s house in Brighton, UK. I’m quite spontaneous, so booked the flights as soon as I’d determined when the weather window was. From deciding to flying was about 3 months, and a lot of that was waiting for the weather window.
Where do you sleep?
A mixture of campsites, motels, camping rough in a field somewhere, and kind people putting me up. I was struggling with the heat for the first few weeks so stayed in cheap motels mostly, then I stayed with my buddy Brandon for a couple of nights, since then I’ve mostly been camping. From now on will be a lot of camping, either rough or in a campsite. It’s good to have a motel on a rest day though, so I’ll be in a motel a couple nights a week.
How do you find somewhere to stay?
Just ride for about 70 miles then look for somewhere. I usually have a rough idea of where motels and campsites will be from looking at the map, and I ask locals as I get close, they always know where stuff is.
What about all the crazy people/serial killers/muggers/criminals?
Travelling solo does sound scary, there’s nobody to look out for you, and if you disappear nobody will look for you for a while. But it just isn’t like that, pretty much everybody along the route looks out for you. I’ve been through some pretty rough areas and met nothing but kindness and offers of help. You also develop a pretty good sense of danger. In fact, the only time I’ve felt at all uncomfortable on this trip was when I was cornered by some full-on evangelist born again christian preachers, who as soon as they found I was a non-believer (well, I actually said I was a militant atheist) subtly blocked my exits, went into aggressive body language and wouldn’t let go of my hand! But they were nice really, just concerned about my soul. Good luck with that.
Don’t you get lonely?
Umm, not really. A little bit sometimes, but in the same way that if you travel a long time with someone you can get a bit fed up of them and need a little time on your own. There’s usually a low point about a week into a solo trip where you see a beach full of people having fun and you feel a bit left out, but it soon passes. Luckily I’m a bit of a loner anyway and am quite self contained. It’s great to have good friends along, but it’s also great to travel solo for a while. A mixture is best. Going too long without seeing anyone you know, or having time to build friendships, is not good for your mental health though.
Why are you doing this?
It just felt right. I know you’re expecting me to say I’m doing it for charity, or to make a statement, or something like that, but really it’s just because I love doing this stuff.
How can you afford to do it?
Saved up, sold my car, rented out my apartment. Camping is cheap, so I get by on about 40 dollars a day or so, more if I’m in a motel or have to fix the bike.
Don’t your parents worry about you?
Yes.
How do you keep in touch? Do you have a laptop or something?
I have a prepaid cellphone that lets me make international calls fairly cheaply. I didn’t have a laptop for the first month but just bought one as wifi is everywhere and it’s dead handy to have one, even though you pay a significant penalty in weight and size. I think it’s worth it, although the rockies may change my mind about that. If you see a laptop floating in a river somewhere it’s probably from a touring cyclist.
Do you really throw stuff away like that?
Yep, big time. At the end of the first day I threw away my trousers, t-shirts, sunglasses, books, maps, camping stove, cooking pots, normal size bottles of shampoo and toothpaste (I bought some tiny ones instead), some spares and tools, and lots of other stuff I’ve forgotten about for now. For the next few days I ruthlessly shed stuff until I reached my happy minimum. It’s no joke that touring cyclists really do cut the handles off their toothbrushes and the labels off their clothes.
How fast can that thing go?
Down a big hill you can do about 60, it gets pretty scary though. On the flat you can sprint up to about 30, but cruise is usually about 15mph.
How often do you wash your bike clothes?
Erm, well, it usually turns out to be about once a week! After that they are usually greasy and horrible, although for some reason the strong sun seems to stop them stinking too bad (you may disagree, I saw you take a step back when you got close), maybe because the sweat evaporates immediately.
You’re very brown
Check out my farmer’s tan! (Lift t-shirt sleeve to show blinding white skin). Quit laughing!
Well you look great, look at those legs!
I get quite shy when you are gawping at me in my skintight lycra.
It must be a great way to lose weight
Yeah, for sure, I’ve lost about 13lbs / 6 kg since I started, and that’s on a constant all-you-can-eat diet of pizzas burgers donuts fruit snack bars and chocolate muffins. In fact, I’m a bit sick of eating so much now! But no eat, no miles.
What’s the longest you ride?
Usually I do about 70 miles or so at a fairly steady 15 miles an hour, which works out at about 6 hours including breaks. I usually stop for 5 minutes every hour just to get off the bike, and chopping up the ride makes it a lot easier. There are usually supermarket and gas station stops for food and water too. The longest I rode in one day was 137 miles, which was 12 hours, dawn until dusk, but that was too much to do every day. These days I’ve taken to having a decent, hour-long break for lunch with some solid food, and have something light in the evening. Breakfast is usually a quick carb-fest stuffed down as I’m getting ready to roll.
You will be real careful on those roads, won’t you?
I promise. I’m way better in traffic that I was when I started, and I was pretty good then. You kinda develop a sense of danger, and I’ve only had to jam my brakes on about twice in 1300 miles, and each of those times I’d spotted the potential danger and was well prepared for it. I’m mostly on tiny wee roads anyway. In general, american drivers are quite courteous and considerate, often giving me an entire lane when they overtake as long as it’s quiet. If it’s busy then things get a bit more hassled and they tend to squeeze past, which is why I avoid big cities and rush hours.
How long have you been cycling?
Well, I rode a lot when I was a teenager, dropped it when I got a car at around 19, and took it up again about 10 years ago when I started commuting to work, and did my first bike tour in spain.
Don’t you have a mirror to see what’s going on behind?
I keep thinking about getting one, but it’s extra weight and it’ll probably get broken soon enough. My main objection is that your main method of communication with the other drivers is your head movements. Arm signals come a long way behind, you only use those when you‘re about to turn. Looking over your shoulder (or usually just pretending too, cos I can tell whats going on behind using my ears with a suprising degree of accuracy) is a clear signal to the driver that you know they are there, and you’re not gonna do anything stupid. Once you have a mirror you tend to stop doing this, and drivers get confused as you seem to be cycling along obliviously. I’ve noticed this myself when following cyclists with mirrors, even with all my cycling experience I find mirror cyclists very unpredictable. The best way to get a driver to give you space is panicky looks over your shoulder in traffic, that comes across clearly and they will almost always back off and give you space. So, in short, I don’t really like mirrors, which I guess puts me in the hardcore-purist category, which I think is the only time I’m ever in that category. Go figure.
Do you have a camera?
Yeah, I have a little one that I keep in my back pocket, which I mostly use to take wobbly shots of striking bits of the road and scenery without stopping. Some of my friends like to stop all the time and take pics, but I have serious miles to do, and they’re not here. This usually leads to minor but amusing friction when they come out to ride with me!
Whas sorta gas mileage you get with that thing?
About 10 miles per chocolate muffin, or about 40 for a large bacon cheeseburger, fries and a coke ;-)
Man, you must have seen some interesting things!
This one has given me the most food for thought. The cycle touring life is actually quite focused and monastic: get up at dawn, ride all day, eat, sleep, repeat. I’m usually too tired at the end of the day for wild adventures in bars and clubs. So mostly what I’ve seen is roads, road kill, wildlife and friendly people.
Are you running away from something?
Good question, but not really, unless you count running away from a life that had gone a little stale. I’m more drifting with fate to see where I end up, and having lots of fun on the way.
Don’t you worry about your stuff being stolen?
Umm, not really, no. I have a little lock for the bike that will stop an opportunistic thief running off with it, but as it’s covered in mudguards/fenders, racks, bottles, bags, grease, sweat, dust, it’s not the most attractive bike for a thief. Most of the time I’m in tiny towns and villages where I happily leave it outside shops and restaurants without locking it, you can generally feel how safe a place is. I never leave it too long though, and I carry my wallet on me. Basically, if you care about something, you shouldn’t take it on a bike tour! That is the best defence against theft.
Daily Tribune
heh heh, well just got interviewed by the Mount Pleasant Daily Tribune http://www.dailytribune.net/ they said they'll email me if they use it. Cool. Take that County Times!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
North from Louisiana into Texas
I don’t know if you’ve seen the film ‘Into the Wild’ yet, but if you haven’t, go see it, because it’s pretty much where I’m at. I’m having an incredible experience, it’s just what I dreamed about. If you are my parents don’t watch the movie, you won‘t like the ending. A few people have told me they find the blog inspiring, which is the biggest compliment I can think of. Thinking of all my buddies reading it whilst stuck in an office helps stop me taking this incredible journey for granted.
Travelling north from Brandon’s has seen some cool changes in the landscape. Lafayette marked the end of the coastal swamps, and I entered lush green meadows sprinkled with colorful wild flowers, each one calling to me to come camp there. I think there will be plenty of rough camping coming up.
Heading out towards Alexandria, where I camped behind the bike shop, a piece of rusty wire comes from nowhere and wraps itself around my wheel, nearly tearing off the mudguard and making me skid to a halt, I’m glad I’m on the shoulder not a busy road.
I saw my first live snake the other day, about a foot and a half long and green, it came wiggling frantically across the road at me, I figured it was just trying to cross and managed to dodge it, looking back I saw I had and it disappeared into the grass. How many times in life do you have to dodge snakes on your bike!
The ride out from Natchitoches to Shreveport was pretty awful, a 20mph+ headwind reduced my average speed by a third, and even though I tried to just sit back and take it easy it’s still soul destroying to put in all that effort and hardly move. Amazingly, I’ve pretty much had a tailwind for all the time up until now, almost as if the wind has decided to help me, so I think of the headwind day as the wind drawing breath, ready to keep blowing me along. Amazingly, that’s exactly what happens, as the last 2 days have been a strong tailwind. I owe you one wind, big time. This ride makes me think about the old stories, where people dare the wind and get awful experiences in return, so I’m doing my best to keep all karma in the green. The day of the headwind I actually found myself trying to figure out what bad thing I’d done recently to deserve a headwind!
Crossed into Texas yesterday, that was a hell of a moment. I thought to myself “I’ve ridden to Texas!” and had a huge grin on my face. Louisiana was the south, but Texas is definitely the west. Immediately the road smoothed out, I entered beautiful pine forest, and started riding through rolling waves of hills as I begin the long, gradual climb to the high plains, which are actually higher than the mountains on the East Coast!
I unknowingly ride past the only natural lake in Texas, apparently all the others are dams, which is incredible as texas is huge and has loads of lakes. It is really thought provoking when you realise that a couple hundred years ago this land was inhabited essentially by nomadic tribes, then the settlers came, and have had a huge impact on the continent.
After 1400 miles of flat land the hills are a welcome relief, it’s great to stand up in the pedals and work the bike up the hills, then get the ‘free’ miles rolling down the other side. Even with the full camping load I still haven’t dropped below mid-front and mid-rear on the gears, so I don’t seem to have lost my welsh hill climbing ability.
The hills are mostly of the short and sharp variety though, which are kinda tough to make miles through, so after 55 miles I call it a day when I spot the beautiful and inviting Marley's Bullfrog Marina at Johnson's Creek, Lake o' the Pines, which has a board up showing that it takes tents, a big relief as many campsites only take Rvs.
It turns out to be closed, but Doobie (the boss) and Billy take pity on me and tell me to go camp anyway, and when they find out I’m riding from Miami to Seattle they refuse to take any money, tell me to camp anywhere I want, install me on the porch with some beers and chew the fat for a while, before filling a coolbox with more beers for me and offering me a free breakfast! Awesome! Time after time on this trip I’m blown away by people’s kindness, I always try to say no as I don’t want to inconvenience them, but they usually insist, and so I am grateful to accept their generosity, it would be insulting not to, and I‘m genuinely glad that they want to help me.
I camp on a deserted point sticking into the lake, it is beautiful, birds of prey are circling around, there are fish in the lake, I already don’t want to leave. I take a quick swim then sit there in the sun, taking it all in, laughing like a crazy fool with the sheer joy of life. As soon as the sun sets I fall asleep snuggled up in my tent, certain that this is how life should be. I can quite imagine spending a summer working here, chopping logs, clearing brush, fixing boats, cooking burgers, drinking beers.
I wake early and have the urge to do some miles, so pass on the free breakfast offer, wave goodbye to Billy as he opens the store, and head through more hills, these ones getting longer and longer as I head towards the plains. For the first time since Miami I get to the top of a decent hill, where the road disappears, the wind changes and all you can see is blue sky. I love these moments, it’s what makes me ride, wondering what I’m gonna see when I get to the top. I’m not disappointed, I see rolling lush green forest stretching to the horizon, with a sprinkling of white water towers marking settlements. The descent is a dream, the bike heavy but stable, the tyres scything over the road, the bugs bouncing off my grin.
A few more miles, a bit of grief with a bulge in the tyre, soon sorted by reseating it, and I’m into Mount Pleasant, which has a sweet little downtown district with a plaza, then into the campsite and straight out again for lunch. Service in the restaurant is slow, real slow, and orders are forgotten. An ex-schoolteacher lady has had enough, and organizes a diner’s rebellion. She marches off to the kitchen and breathes some fire, the staff are soon jumping and giving generous discounts. On discovering my ride she whips out her mobile and rings the local paper to see if they are interested in doing a piece on me! It turns out to be a bad time as they are in the middle of breaking news - the swat team is busting all the restaurants for illegal immigrants, an action to make the conservatives happy. But not the ladies at the table next to me, who have Mexican family members who crossed the border years ago when it was legal, have kids who have grown up here, and are now facing deportation. They are waitresses themselves, and so I ask for tipping advice, as it’s a bit of a mystery to me who to tip, when to tip, and how much. I am horrified to discover that waitresses earn about 2 dollars (one pound) per hour! When they say they live off their tips, they really do. I’ve been sticking to the 10-15 percent, but I’ll up that a lot for good service now. 2 dollars an hour, man, that is no joke at all to live off.
Travelling north from Brandon’s has seen some cool changes in the landscape. Lafayette marked the end of the coastal swamps, and I entered lush green meadows sprinkled with colorful wild flowers, each one calling to me to come camp there. I think there will be plenty of rough camping coming up.
Heading out towards Alexandria, where I camped behind the bike shop, a piece of rusty wire comes from nowhere and wraps itself around my wheel, nearly tearing off the mudguard and making me skid to a halt, I’m glad I’m on the shoulder not a busy road.
I saw my first live snake the other day, about a foot and a half long and green, it came wiggling frantically across the road at me, I figured it was just trying to cross and managed to dodge it, looking back I saw I had and it disappeared into the grass. How many times in life do you have to dodge snakes on your bike!
The ride out from Natchitoches to Shreveport was pretty awful, a 20mph+ headwind reduced my average speed by a third, and even though I tried to just sit back and take it easy it’s still soul destroying to put in all that effort and hardly move. Amazingly, I’ve pretty much had a tailwind for all the time up until now, almost as if the wind has decided to help me, so I think of the headwind day as the wind drawing breath, ready to keep blowing me along. Amazingly, that’s exactly what happens, as the last 2 days have been a strong tailwind. I owe you one wind, big time. This ride makes me think about the old stories, where people dare the wind and get awful experiences in return, so I’m doing my best to keep all karma in the green. The day of the headwind I actually found myself trying to figure out what bad thing I’d done recently to deserve a headwind!
Crossed into Texas yesterday, that was a hell of a moment. I thought to myself “I’ve ridden to Texas!” and had a huge grin on my face. Louisiana was the south, but Texas is definitely the west. Immediately the road smoothed out, I entered beautiful pine forest, and started riding through rolling waves of hills as I begin the long, gradual climb to the high plains, which are actually higher than the mountains on the East Coast!
I unknowingly ride past the only natural lake in Texas, apparently all the others are dams, which is incredible as texas is huge and has loads of lakes. It is really thought provoking when you realise that a couple hundred years ago this land was inhabited essentially by nomadic tribes, then the settlers came, and have had a huge impact on the continent.
After 1400 miles of flat land the hills are a welcome relief, it’s great to stand up in the pedals and work the bike up the hills, then get the ‘free’ miles rolling down the other side. Even with the full camping load I still haven’t dropped below mid-front and mid-rear on the gears, so I don’t seem to have lost my welsh hill climbing ability.
The hills are mostly of the short and sharp variety though, which are kinda tough to make miles through, so after 55 miles I call it a day when I spot the beautiful and inviting Marley's Bullfrog Marina at Johnson's Creek, Lake o' the Pines, which has a board up showing that it takes tents, a big relief as many campsites only take Rvs.
It turns out to be closed, but Doobie (the boss) and Billy take pity on me and tell me to go camp anyway, and when they find out I’m riding from Miami to Seattle they refuse to take any money, tell me to camp anywhere I want, install me on the porch with some beers and chew the fat for a while, before filling a coolbox with more beers for me and offering me a free breakfast! Awesome! Time after time on this trip I’m blown away by people’s kindness, I always try to say no as I don’t want to inconvenience them, but they usually insist, and so I am grateful to accept their generosity, it would be insulting not to, and I‘m genuinely glad that they want to help me.
I camp on a deserted point sticking into the lake, it is beautiful, birds of prey are circling around, there are fish in the lake, I already don’t want to leave. I take a quick swim then sit there in the sun, taking it all in, laughing like a crazy fool with the sheer joy of life. As soon as the sun sets I fall asleep snuggled up in my tent, certain that this is how life should be. I can quite imagine spending a summer working here, chopping logs, clearing brush, fixing boats, cooking burgers, drinking beers.
I wake early and have the urge to do some miles, so pass on the free breakfast offer, wave goodbye to Billy as he opens the store, and head through more hills, these ones getting longer and longer as I head towards the plains. For the first time since Miami I get to the top of a decent hill, where the road disappears, the wind changes and all you can see is blue sky. I love these moments, it’s what makes me ride, wondering what I’m gonna see when I get to the top. I’m not disappointed, I see rolling lush green forest stretching to the horizon, with a sprinkling of white water towers marking settlements. The descent is a dream, the bike heavy but stable, the tyres scything over the road, the bugs bouncing off my grin.
A few more miles, a bit of grief with a bulge in the tyre, soon sorted by reseating it, and I’m into Mount Pleasant, which has a sweet little downtown district with a plaza, then into the campsite and straight out again for lunch. Service in the restaurant is slow, real slow, and orders are forgotten. An ex-schoolteacher lady has had enough, and organizes a diner’s rebellion. She marches off to the kitchen and breathes some fire, the staff are soon jumping and giving generous discounts. On discovering my ride she whips out her mobile and rings the local paper to see if they are interested in doing a piece on me! It turns out to be a bad time as they are in the middle of breaking news - the swat team is busting all the restaurants for illegal immigrants, an action to make the conservatives happy. But not the ladies at the table next to me, who have Mexican family members who crossed the border years ago when it was legal, have kids who have grown up here, and are now facing deportation. They are waitresses themselves, and so I ask for tipping advice, as it’s a bit of a mystery to me who to tip, when to tip, and how much. I am horrified to discover that waitresses earn about 2 dollars (one pound) per hour! When they say they live off their tips, they really do. I’ve been sticking to the 10-15 percent, but I’ll up that a lot for good service now. 2 dollars an hour, man, that is no joke at all to live off.
Mount Pleasant, Texas
just arrived in the wee town of Mount Pleasant, Texas, staying at the KOA campsite and hoovering up all its wifi
finished early today after a couple of long hard days slogging through headwinds and hills. Gonna go grab some scoff, then spend all night sticking stuff up for you lot
finished early today after a couple of long hard days slogging through headwinds and hills. Gonna go grab some scoff, then spend all night sticking stuff up for you lot
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Shreveport, Lousiana
ok people, sorry for no comms last week, had a few rest days in natchitoches, lousiana, got fed up of wifi everywhere but no internet computers so bought a wee toshiba laptop, a satellite u305, it's awesome, 13" screen, light, small, built-in webcam, so am writing this in my tent using the campsite wifi
was great to have some rest time, it was actually hard to force myself to stop riding, but 4 rest days has done me the world of good, am not sleepy all the time anymore. spent the first night in a 20 quid motel, man it was horrible, dirty, dead bugs on the floor, and live ones came out at night, so moved to a big new ramada with its own pub, room service, etc, and for only 30 quid a night! crazy
spent some quality time with the bike, giving it some hands-on lubed up lovin', which it really needed, is running sweet now i degunked the chain and got all the sand and salt out of its vital parts. No problems with the bike at all even though it has had an absolutely incredible pounding on these roads. I'm pretty much out of the hurricane zone now so the roads are much better, and in texas they are supposed to be super-sweet for bikes, with massive smooth shoulders. I'm looking forwards to it.
Before the sweet lovin'
After, it is clean, but I am filthy. By the way, the green thing is a 'dumpster', not a skip.
was great to have some rest time, it was actually hard to force myself to stop riding, but 4 rest days has done me the world of good, am not sleepy all the time anymore. spent the first night in a 20 quid motel, man it was horrible, dirty, dead bugs on the floor, and live ones came out at night, so moved to a big new ramada with its own pub, room service, etc, and for only 30 quid a night! crazy
spent some quality time with the bike, giving it some hands-on lubed up lovin', which it really needed, is running sweet now i degunked the chain and got all the sand and salt out of its vital parts. No problems with the bike at all even though it has had an absolutely incredible pounding on these roads. I'm pretty much out of the hurricane zone now so the roads are much better, and in texas they are supposed to be super-sweet for bikes, with massive smooth shoulders. I'm looking forwards to it.
Before the sweet lovin'
After, it is clean, but I am filthy. By the way, the green thing is a 'dumpster', not a skip.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Red River Runners
ok, left brandon's early on monday after 2 days of being a zombie, rode to lafayette yesterday, and am in alexandria now, a local bike shop is putting me up for the night, camping out back of the shop, and letting me use their internet until they close in an hour or so
bike shop is http://www.rrcbicycles.com/Products.htm
people been amazingly kind, a supermarket manager gave me 5 bucks to buy me lunch, and the subway manager gave me all the bottled water i could carry plus a 25 dollar subway voucher! Awesome
ok i gotta go sort stuff out, more in a couple days
My very own dog pound:
bike shop is http://www.rrcbicycles.com/Products.htm
people been amazingly kind, a supermarket manager gave me 5 bucks to buy me lunch, and the subway manager gave me all the bottled water i could carry plus a 25 dollar subway voucher! Awesome
ok i gotta go sort stuff out, more in a couple days
My very own dog pound:
Sunday, April 6, 2008
The Journey So Far
Just a skeletal post with just the pics in, will flesh it out a little later. Some of the pics can't be clicked on for enlarging, not sure why, will have a look at the html. It's pretty rough and ready so please live with the poor formatting for now.
The bike, chopped, stripped and ready to go:
The bike in naked race mode in the hotel in West Palm Beach, man it looks sweet:
Riding out from Arcadia on Day 3:
Woulda been a nice place to camp:
Da wee beastie!
Heading into the swamp, didn't take this road but stayed on the tarmac instead:
Riding out from Arcadia on Day 3:
Woulda been a nice place to camp:
Da wee beastie!
Heading into the swamp, didn't take this road but stayed on the tarmac instead:
Not everything is bigger in America! This is just by Zephyrhills:
It's a good way to cross a continent:
Clearly, someone disagrees:
This bike trail made me glad i bought a tricross, it was gravel with patches of soft sand, but the bike ploughed through both:
Construction roads no problem either:
The cockpit:
Reaching the Gulf Coast after about 400 miles or so. This was just after lunch on the awesome 137 mile day:
Yep, riding along the gulf coast sure is purty:
The mule poses seductively:
Just trying to make y'all jealous with some scenery:
Beautiful waterside hotel in Apalachicola, they gave me 50 percent discount too, and the room was amazing, ride over the water. I was very happy:
Crossing from Panama City to Panama City Beach, bridges are impressive and scary for a cyclist:
Riding from Navarre Beach to Pensacola Beach, road was closed, looked very post-apocalyptic, had about 20 miles to myself!
Post-apocalyptic refugees! Keep them outa my island!
Bike lane leading to the Fort Morgan Ferry (which never came) just south of Mobile:
Camping on the beach waiting for the ferry:
On a jetty in Gulfport, Missisippi
Gulfport beach:
Hurricane Katrina damage just north of New Orleans:
Crossing from Missisippi to Louisiana:
The Sunshine Bridge across the Missisippi, the scariest moment of the trip so far. Doesn't look like much, but it was like daring a monster:
Baseball knockaround, very professional stance, no?
Ross for some reason decides to play in his underwear, whilst Tyler does a mean Steve Irwin impression:
Cajun cookout, that's a table full of tasty crawfish:
Brandon, Hallie, Me and Heath:
Brandon, his truck and house:
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