Robyn's 2021 TransAm Bikecentennial: Flatlander (Missive 6)

NOTE:  This is the sixth missive for Robyn's 2021 TransAm Bikecentennial ride.  The fourth and fifth missives can be found at https://attitude-maneuver.blogspot.com/2022/02/robyns-2021-transam-bikecentennial-in.html .  The seventh missive is at https://attitude-maneuver.blogspot.com/2022/03/robyns-2021-transam-bikecentennial_26.html.  

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Slideshow

A slideshow of photos from the flatlands of Kansas and Colorado can be found at https://photos.app.goo.gl/XBDFt8De8w21Qd4H9 . 

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Missive No. 6:  Flatlander

What a difference terrain makes.  From Afton, VA, to the Kansas border, TransAm cyclists enjoyably struggle over the Blue Ridge, the Appalachians, and the Ozarks.  The going is slow, and 50 miles feel like a big day.  Then, suddenly, it's over.  One crosses the Kansas border and reaches the flatlands of the Great Plains at last.  In nine days of riding, I covered over 650 miles from Pittsburg, KS, to Pueblo, CO.  That makes for an average of over 70 miles/day.  Two of those days were century days.  On my final day in Kansas, I reached 108 miles, my personal record on a loaded touring bike.  The struggles of the eastern mountains are finally in the past.

Of course, being on the plains means trading the hills for the wind.  I remember well from Kazakhstan just how much the wind can hinder or help depending on which way it is blowing.  It's the gift that keeps on giving in unpredictable ways.  With a mountain, one must struggle up and over, but than it is really over.  With the wind, one never knows.  For that reason, more TransAm cyclists ride west to east on the theory that the prevailing westerly winds will help more than hinder.  For me, however, the winds defied the common wisdom. Most days the wind was a cross wind from the south, and on several days the wind was a tailwind out of the southeast.  I could not have ridden the 108 miles without that helpful nudge from behind.

Neither could I have ridden those 108 miles without a helpful nudge from my new young cycling friends Sarah and Devin from New Jersey. We met up on the road out of Scott City, KS.  I was planning on riding at most 75 miles that day, but they were hoping for something closer to 125.  Young people that they are, they have other commitments and must complete the TransAm by a fixed date.  (Oh how I enjoy the no-schedule perks of retirement!)  Riding together that day, they infected me with their conversation and enthusiasm. We crossed into Colorado together and ended up with a compromise by spending the night in Eads, CO, a distance greater than I had planned even if less than they had hoped for.  The next morning, however, they were off for another big day while I lingered over breakfast and was more than content with a 65 mile day.

Overall, I am meeting many more cyclists this year than I did on the Northern Tier last year.  In part that's because the TransAm is a better known route, but it's also because Covid seemingly (we hope!) is less of a threat this year, at least to those of us who are vaccinated. 

Another cyclist you will see in my photos is Ryan.  He's headed east to Yorktown, and we stopped and chatted a good bit on the day I rode from Ness City to Scott City.  We later got caught in a wind storm that caused us both to take shelter in our respective places.  When the sky blackened and the wind gusted at what seemed to me to be gale force, I took shelter in a culvert underneath the road.  I was seriously worried that this might be what it is like just before a tornado hits. Thankfully, there was strong wind and a dark sky but no rain.  If there had been, my culvert shelter would have become something quite different.  As it was, the wind became less gusty an hour or so later.  I continued to Scott City but didn't push the day any further. The sky still looked threatening.

On another memorable day, I took an ill-advised shortcut on the way to Hutchinson.  I knew it would involve a dirt road, but I didn't realize that dirt roads in that part of Kansas are more sand than dirt. The sand was so deep in places that I felt I was at a beach.  It was impossible to ride.  I had to walk and push Woodswoman through that sand for more than five miles before finding a paved road that would help me further along.

Eastern Kansas is mainly agricultural with all the associated smells and lots of trucks and agricultural equipment on the roads.  That changes gradually as one continues westward.  I passed through the Quivira National Wildlife Preserve that reminded me of the wetlands flyway to the west of Astana, Kazakhstan.  More and more sunflowers made their appearance.  Then, the countryside changed to open grassland that reminded me of the Big Sky country in North Dakota and Montana.  As they did last year, two songs kept playing in my head, Mary McCaslin's Prairie in the Sky and Big Sky by Under the Oak.  Prairie in the Sky could be the perfect anthem for bike-packers:  "I carry all I own the pouches of my saddlebags with my bed roll tied behind."

Also worth mentioning is that I am finally using the tent and camping more.  The hostels and churches of Virginia, Kentucky, and Missouri have faded away.  At one beautiful state park near Toronto, KS, I even used my camp stove to prepare dinner and morning coffee.  There was a reason for lugging all that equipment over the Blue Ridge, Appalachians, and Ozarks after all.  

That's my Flatland story. I rolled into Pueblo, CO, yesterday and have today as an off day to rest up for the next challenge.  From here the TransAm turns northward and follows the ridge of the Rockies, crossing and re-crossing the Continental Divide nine times.  My highest pass on the Northern Tier last year was Logan Pass in Glacier National Park.  It's a bit over 7200 feet if I remember correctly.  In a few days I will be climbing Hoosier Pass.  It tops out at over 11,500 feet.

I am officially beyond the TransAm halfway point.  Sarah, Devin, and I posed in front of a sign in Eads, CO, telling us that we are halfway.  By my calculation, I have about 2050 miles to go.  I'm on track to finish as I had expected in the first ten days of September, weather and other conditions permitting.

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Daily Log 

 

Saturday, July 10, 2021 -- 17,788 km cum - 118 km/day

I'm in Kansas after a wonderful 74 mile day even if I did get caught in a light rain for the final 25 miles after stopping for pie at Cookey's in Garden City.

The hills are entirely behind me now for the first time since Charlottesville.  At last!  After Garden City I seemed to fly along at better than an average of 24 km/hour.  Finally I am on terrain that reminds me of ND last year.

I caught up with and then passed Amanda and her brother Addison.  I had met them a couple of days back in MO but thought they were way ahead of me by now given that they were riding consistent 100+ mile days.  I saw them again at Tailwind Cyclists in Pittsburg.  They are having technical issues.  Remembering last year in Montana and other kindnesses shown to me along the road, I "payed it forward" with my credit card at Tailwind Cyclists.  These rides are challenging enough even without technical issues.

Rest!  I'll have two nights in the Holiday Lodge in Pittsburg before moving on.  Bliss.

Monday, July 12, 2021 -- 17,954 km cum - 166 km/days

A century ride!  In fact, 104 miles.  That's a record for me on a loaded touring bike, more than the century that I barely cracked last year on the UP of Michigan.  I reached Chanute at 1:30 p.m. and decided to keep going.  I finished at Cross Timbers State Park near Toronto.  That's what's possible with good, flat roads and good weather and no appreciable wind.

I won't get nearly as far today.  (I'm writing on Tuesday morning.)  That's the overhead of tent camping.  I'll be lucky if I'm underway by 9:30 a.m.

Still, a century!

Tuesday, July 13, 2021 -- 18,053 km cum - 99 km/day

Just as the day after my century on the UP last year was tougher than the century day itself, so it proved this year with this 62 mile day.

First, I got a very late start at 10 a.m.  When I camp, the start is always later no matter how hard I try.

Second, the heat and humidity are back.  A cross wind hindered more than helped.

Finally, US 54 is a miserable road for cyclists.  The shoulder is narrow; the speed limit is 65 mph; and the road abounds in big trucks that create a draft as they pass.  The road is monotonous all the way from Toronto to Rosalia, and construction in Eureka does not help.  There are even some unexpectedly long climbs as the road passes through the Flint Hills.  I was relieved, overjoyed in fact, to get to Rosalia and turn north for the final miles to Cassoday.

I am camped tonight under a gazebo at the Cassoday General Store.  The conditions are primitive with no shower or toilet, but at least I was able to get a hot meal before the store closed.  I will need a motel tomorrow night.

Wednesday, July 14, 2021 -- 18,180 km cum - 127 km/days

This was just shy of an 80-mile day.  It should have been more like 75, but I took an ill-advised Google route from Newton to Hutchinson.  The road turned to dirt about a third of the way.  Dirt would have been OK, but this was **sand**, at times deep.  There was no way I could ride.  I had to push Woodswoman 5-6 miles to get to a paved road that would take me to US 50.  I rode that the rest of the way to Hutchinson, fighting a cross wind and arriving after 7 p.m. to the cheap OYO hotel.  Having ridden in three days what would be the norm for five, I've earned another rest day.  Moreover, it supposed to rain on Thursday.

I watched the Tour de France on TV this evening and felt a mild echo of solidarity on two wheels.  I will spend Thursday doing laundry.

Friday, July 16, 2021 -- 18,295 km cum - 115 km/days

The easiest cycling day yet, 71 miles on flat roads with no wind and, until noon, no sun.  I arrived in Great Bend around 1:30 p.m. and checked into my cheap motel before 3.  I even had time to stop first at a liquor store and Walmart.

Today's route passed through the Quivira National Wildlife Reserve.  I took a short break there and am glad I did.  The Reserve reminded me, on a smaller scale, of the wetlands flyway near Astana that I visited with the Association for the Conservation of Biodiversity in Kazakhstan (ASBK) in 2016.  There is also a historical tie-in with Coronado, aka the Turk, and the search for cities of gold in the mid-16th century.

In the morning I met Rusty and his three companions who are on their supported trip east.  Later I passed an eastbound bike-packer with a full load.

All-in-all, this was a very good day, perhaps the best yet.

Saturday, July 17, 2021 -- 18,400 km cum - 105 km/day

It's a camping night at the Ness City park.  I had thought there was an outside chance for a long day, but heavy morning rain in Great Bend quashed that thought.  I waited out the storm at the motel and didn't get underway until 9:30 a.m.  The ride, however, was easy with largely flat roads and even, at times, a slight tailwind.  I stopped for a full hour in Grand Rush and still get to Ness City by 3:30 p.m.  

I met eastbound cyclists Kim and John as I entered town.  I thought they would camp also, but I think they went to the town's cheap motel.  I opted for camping after reading reviews that described the motel as "creepy" and "the worst ever."  The park sounded more inviting.  I took a refreshing cold water shower using an outdoor hose.

I'm enjoying cod for dinner at the Cactus Club restaurant.  It's surprisingly good!

Sunday, July 18, 2021 -- 18,494 km cum - 94 km/day

This was the big day that was not to be.  Although I started late -- almost 10 a.m. -- I had a good tailwind and felt sure I would blast through Scott City and do an 80 mile day to Leoti.  Instead, strong, gale force winds surprised me a little past Dighton.  The wind gusts were so strong that I couldn't ride.  The sky looked ominous, and I wondered if this is what it is like before a tornado.  I took shelter in a culvert under the road, perhaps not the best choice but the only one available.  I stayed there for an hour, studying the radar and forecast for the coming hours.  I despaired of Leoti and wondered how I would even make it to Scott City.

Eventually the gusts subsided.  I returned to the road and pedalled the last 15 miles to Scott City for all I was worth, helped along by a strong tailwind.  I was traveling at a consistent 32 km/hour (20 mph) and made it to Scott City around 3:30 p.m.  With the sky ahead still ominous, I checked in to the Lazy R Motel.  So much for my dreams of a big day.

Met two eastbound cyclists, Randy and Mark.  The latter lives on Wessex Ave. just off Piney Branch in Silver Spring, MD.  Imagine that, someone who lives a short walk to where I lived for so many years on Richmond Ave.

Now, as I write at 6:30 p.m., the sky is perfectly clear.  Go figure.  Oh well, tomorrow is another day.

Monday, June 19, 2021 -- 18,668 km cum - 174 km/day

106 miles from Scott City, KS, to Eads, CO.  I'm in Colorado and the Mountain Time zone.  Moreover, in Eads there is a sign proclaiming the mid-point of the TransAm.  I am officially halfway between Yorktown, VA, and Astoria, OR.

I hadn't intended to go so far or so long today.  I had expected to go only 78 miles to Sheridan Lakes, KS.  What happened was Devin Leadbetter and his friend Sarah.  They caught up with me when I stopped to talk with an eastbound cyclist near Leoti.  Like Amanda and her brother whom I met in Missouri, they are on a tight schedule to complete the TransAm before the end of August.  As young people, they have school and work commitments.  They had also left from Scott City this morning and were intent on a long day.  They inspired me to push on.  We cycled together most of the day and are together for a motel night in Eads where there is, finally, good beer.  We just had a good evening together at the motel lounge and snack bar.

Overall, this was a long but wonderful record-setting day!

Tuesday, July 20, 2021 -- 18,772 km cum - 104 km/day

A good 65 mile ride from Eads to Ordway, but I miss Sarah and Devin.  We had breakfast together, but then they were off, intent on making it all the way to Pueblo.  After yesterday, my goal for today was more modest.

I am camped tonight at the city park in Ordway.  Conditions are primitive -- i.e., port-a-potty and cold water from a spigot.  Tomorrow I will go in the opposite direction and choose luxury in Pueblo.

Wednesday, July 21, 2021 -- 18,857 km cum - 85 km/day

I'm in Pueblo after an easy 53 mile ride from Ordway.  Today's highlight was a stop in Olney Springs where I met the mayor and a local artist, one of them Arapaho and the other Iroquois, transplants to here from Ohio and Pennsylvania.  I was quite impressed by the artist.

I arrived in Pueblo by 1:30 p.m.  I stopped first at the local bike shop to give Woodswoman a quick go-over before I go further.  All, thankfully, is in order.  Janet fixed the weird way in which the bike shop in Maryland installed the rear fender.

I also went to the post office.  The box of supplies from Ellen and Ron was waiting for me.

I checked in at the Marriott and am now at an Irish pub.  36 hours of luxury and bliss!

Robyn's 2021 TransAm Bikecentennial: In the Land of Popeye and the Maine Compromise (Missives 4 & 5)

NOTE:  These are the fourth and fifth missives for Robyn's 2021 TransAm Bikecentennial ride.  The third missive can be found at https://attitude-maneuver.blogspot.com/2022/01/robyns-2021-transam-bikecentennial-my.html .  The sixth missive is at https://attitude-maneuver.blogspot.com/2022/03/robyns-2021-transam-bikecentennial.html.

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Slideshow

A slideshow of photos from Illinois and Missouri can be found at https://photos.app.goo.gl/zeF7Ps5eD5aL7di88 .

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Missive No. 4:  Illinois

This evening finds me lodged in the Bicycle Shack at the Fraternal Order of Eagles in Chester, IL, the home of Popeye creator E. C. Segar.  Yesterday I was in Carbondale, once home to Buckminster Fuller who built his famous geodesic dome there and taught at the university.

The TransAm route in southern Illinois is shorter than its route through any other state, not even 200 miles.  After crossing the Ohio River by ferry from Kentucky, I visited Cave-in-Rock, once used in the filming of the 1962 movie How the West Was Won.  From there I went on to Golconda and a rest day at a cheap motel where I made friends with the manager Leslie, her daughter Natalie, and their dog Tucker who liked to lick my fragrant bicyclist feet. 

My rest day nearly turned to two when I awoke to heavy rain on Thursday.  With the weather improved by mid-afternoon, I made a quick 25 mile run down the road to Vienna.  My route was along a portion of the Trail of Tears, the path of the Cherokee people during their forced expulsion in 1838.

My route to Carbondale on Saturday was partly on the Tunnel Hill rail trail, a nice gentle break from the roads.  I had a WS night reserved in Carbondale with Jack, a prolific host of TransAm cyclists.  Cathy and Richard, my companions for several nights in Kentucky, caught up with me on my rest day and spent the night also.  We celebrated by going out to a Chinese restaurant.

That's the quick update from Illinois.  Tomorrow I cross the Mississippi into Missouri and on into the Ozarks.  In other words, I'll be back in hill country.  The past two days have been cool after the rains, but the heat and humidity are supposed to return tomorrow.  Sigh.  Such is the hot, sticky life of a bike-packer in July.

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Missive No. 5:  Missouri

As the song goes, "I'm as corny as Kansas in August."  Well, OK, I get ahead of myself.  It's only July, and the story today is of the Maine Compromise of 1820 and the Ozark hills of Missouri.  Still, that old song is what was playing in my mind as I flew into Pittsburg, KS, on the most exquisitely flat road I've experienced since Williamsburg, VA.

"Maine Compromise?" you ask?  Not so many years ago at a trivia evening with David  A, I humiliated  myself  by not knowing that Maine was the state that came into the Union together with Missouri in what is better known as the Missouri Compromise. Given that I adopted Maine as my home state as long ago as 2009, I knew there would be a price, a penance to pay in atonement for my lack of historical knowledge.  I paid it this week by riding up and down every hill that the Ozarks were able to throw in my path.

No doubt about it, Missouri is a tough part of the TransAm.  The Ozark hills are not as high as the Blue Ridge or the Appalachians of Kentucky, but they are relentless, a roller coaster that keeps on giving.  I set a personal speed record of  45mph going down one of those hills only to struggle up the next one at 4-5 mph, scarcely faster than walking speed.  And yes, I did push my bike, aka Woodswoman II, up a few of those hills.

I characterize last week's weather as tailor made for Happy Warriors in the mold of Hubert Horatio Humphrey.  I've decided that the initials HHH must stand for something other than our one-time Vice President and long-serving progressive senator.  They stand for Hot, Hilly, and Humid.  I drank not quarts but gallons of water and sport drinks each day this week.

But there was also beauty, in particular in the heart of the Ozarks between Ellington and Eminence.  At Johnson's Shut-Ins State Park, I took a break to put my feet in the marvelous cooling water of the river.  I arrived in Pilot Knob on July 4 in time for fireworks and also to visit the Fort Davidson historic site.  There I learned about the last major Civil War battle of 1864 in Missouri.  Both there and through the week, I came to understand that Missouri had largely been Union territory throughout the Civil War despite having been admitted as a slave state in 1821.

Cathy and Richard continue to play leapfrog with me.  We overnighted together at the hostel in Ellington. I pulled ahead of them after that, but I expect they will catch me again during this, my off day in Pittsburg. They could be pulling into town even as I write.

Amanda and her brother caught up with me in Marshfield.  They then did an 83-mile day to Golden City, while I rode only 50 to the hostel in Ash Garden.  The next day I caught up with and passed them on the road to Pittsburg.  They were having technical issues, in particular with Amanda's totally worn out tires.  I spent part of yesterday evening with them at the bike shop in Pittsburg as they got things in order.  Amanda was a Peace Corps volunteer in Macedonia until Covid forced evacuation, and I think that brought out the instinctive "FSOs look out and care for PC volunteers" in me.  I wanted to be sure they were OK to  go on.  Amanda starts graduate school at American University in DC at the end of August.

Other chance meetings along the way continue to restore my belief in the basic goodness of people.  At a convenience store in Willard in a particularly HHH day, one gentleman whipped out $20 and insisted that I have a good dinner in Ash Grove.  Then a local cyclist rode in pulling a trailer  in which his little dog Jackson rode as if in a carriage. I must beg the indulgence of these two gentlemen (Eric and ???) for mixing up their names, but I will never forget Jackson, a dog who actually likes cyclists.  Jackson and his owner led me a good way to Ash Grove on a back route only they know.

By the way, most Missourians I met didn't know that Maine became a state together with Missouri.  Perhaps a few will, one day, have to ride our Maine Eastern Highlands the way I just rode through the Ozarks?

That's my missive for this rest day in Pittsburg, KS, on Sunday, July 11.  Onward I go tomorrow, inexorably forward on the blissfully flat roads of Kansas.

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Daily Log 

 

Tuesday, June 29, 2021 -- 16,965 km cum - 67 km/day

I'm in Illinois.  Hurrah!

That said, the day was oppressive and hard even if a short 42 miles.  The heat and humidity are back in spades, worse than yesterday.

I said goodbye to Joe in the morning.  He'll get to Oregon well before me.  Youth!

The ferry across the Ohio River and Cave-in-Rock were the highlights of the day.  The latter was used for one of the early scenes in the 1962 movie How the West Was Won.

I arrived in Goloconda to find that I had mistakenly booked a B&B for July, not June.  I'm in a cheap motel instead.

Tomorrow is my rest day, my zero day.  Hurrah again! 

Thursday, July 1, 2021 -- 17,007 km cum - 42 km/day

A very short 25 mile day, but at day's start I thought it would be zero.  After a rest day in Goloconda, I awoke to heavy rain.  From the forecast I thought it would last all day, but it let up around 2pm.  I took the risk of riding to Vienna and got away with it for another cheap motel night.

Today's ride was along the Trail of Tears.  In contrast to that somber aspect, the day's hightlight came with ice cream and chocolate in Dixon Springs.

In Goloconda I sent home some 3-4 lbs of excess "stuff."  I also left my bear spray behind.  I don't need it here and can but it again later.  Losing that weight made a difference,

At the Goloconda motel I got to know the manager Leslie, her daughter Natalie, and their dog Tucker who liked to come into my room and lick my fragrant bicyclist feet.

Friday-Saturday, July 2-3, 2021 -- 17,147 km cum - 167 km over two days (~83 km/day)

These were basic back-to-back 50 mile days.  On Friday I took the Tunnel Hill rail trail from Vienna to Tunnel Hill where I rejoined the AC route to Gorville and then Corbondale.  I stopped at a bike store in Corbondale for a new water bottle and then enjoyed a malt at the nearby DQ.

Jack was my WS host in Carbondale on Friday night.  To my surprise, Richard and Cathy caught up with me by riding 75+ miles from Elizabethtown.  The four of us went out for Chinese food.

I got an early start this morning and indulged in breakfast in Murphysboro.  Today's ride was wonderfully flat along the levee, and I arrived in Chester before 2 p.m.  I could have gone further, but on the map I saw nowhere to stay in MO for another 50 miles.  I had time to visit the Popeye museum on the way into town.  Chester is the home of Popeye creator E. C. Segar, and it is said that many of the characters in the Popeye cartoons were based on town residents.

Tonight Cathy, Richard, and I are at the "Bike Shack" run by the Fraternal Order of Eagles.  It's basic, even spare with bunks and a primitive shower.  But it's free!  The night's lodging reminds me of being in the Soviet Union in 1978.  I say that with a sense of nostalgia for days of rough travel.

Sunday, July 4, 2021 -- 17,283 km cum - 109 km/day

A good 68 mile day from Chester across the Mississippi and on to Pilot Knob, MO, the site of an 1864 Civil War battle at Fort Davidson.  The first kilometers were wonderfully flat, but then the hills began.  I'm in the Ozarks!  I managed well enough and only dismounted and pushed Woodswoman up hills a couple of times.

Cathy and Richard left before me.  I didn't even reailze it was Cathy who yelled, "You go, girl!" from a gas station as I struggled up a hill.  They are in Farmington for the night.

I'm worried about my right hand.  The thumb and palm ached badly last night.  I'm taking Ibuprofen and am doing my best to limit the time my right hand is on the drops.  The ache has eased somewhat this evening.

It's the 4th in this stuggling country of mine.  Last year on the 4th I crossed from the Lower to the Upper Peninulas of MI by ferry via Mackinaw Island.  I remember watching distant fireworks from my unofficial campsite in a the playground at a municipal park.  Tonight I watched fireworks from the roadside outside my cheap motel, the only option available in Pilot Knob.

Monday, July 5, 2021 -- 17,360 km cum - 77 km/day

After a 68 mile day yesterday, I throttled back to 48 miles today.  I have to keep reminding myself thta I'm in the roller coaster Ozark hills not on the flats of ND or the Highline of MT like last year.  Consistent good mileage days just aren't going to happen for as long as I'm in the hills.

I'm staying the night at the hostel run by the Chamber of Commerce in Ellington.  That's another rason for a short day.  There is an NPS campground down the road, but it's 24 hilly miles from here.  The hostel has AC, a good bathroom, and a wonderful shower.  Cathy and Richard should show up soon.

I stopped at Johnson's Shut-Ins State Park along the way, a wonderful choice for a rest stop.  I took my shoes off and cooled my feet in the water.

Tuesday, July 6, 2021 -- 17,439 km cum - 79 km/day

This was a Hubert H. Humphrey day -- HHH:  hot, hilly, and humid.  It may have been the toughest day since Williamsburg-Richmond, but at least I've learned my lessons from then.  I seemingly drank **gallons** of fluid through the day even as my jersey and capris became soaked as though I had been swimming.

The Missouri Ozarks have earned their roller coaster reputation.  That was the story of today's ride from Ellington to Sommersville.  I am not embarrassed to say I pushed Woodswoman up several hills.  In the afternoon I was taking hydration beaks every 2 km.  I'm at the Rusty Gate motel in Sommersville with a $40 room and instructions to pay by leaving cash on the night stand.  

I had a good break at the Dairy Shack in Eminence.  While there I met Louis and his mom.  Louis is himself an avid cyclist.

Cathy and Richard decided to overnight in Eminence.  Tomorrow I'll do a low mileage, semi-rest day to Houston, all of 22 miles.  I need the break, but it will also let me re-calibrate the following days based on where there are places to stay.  Although I do hope to camp more, it's a last resort in this heat.

On a positive note, I started one month ago today from Newport News.  As of today I am about 1/3 of the way through this trip.  I may not be maintaining last year's pace, but given everything, I'm doing well.

Wednesday, July 6, 2021 -- 17,480 km cum - 41 km/day

As predicted, today's was an easy ride from Sommersville to Houston with hills that seemed modest compared with recent days.  I visited the downtown on the way in.  It's dead, a victim of the automobile.  The Southern Inn Motel along with the Walmart and fast food restaurants are all on US 63.

My plan for the afternoon is to do as little as possible.

Thursday, July 8, 2021 -- 17,590 km cum - 110 km/day

An excellent riding day, 69 miles from Houston to a luxury hotel night at the Holiday Inn Express in Marshfield.  I was up at 4:30 a.m., enjoyed a McD breakfast, got underway at 7:15 a.m., and pulled into Marshfield at 2:30 p.m.

Could the worst of the hills be behind me now?  The morning ride to Bendavis was delightful with only modest hills.  An overcast sky made for a pleasant, cool morning.  Only after Bendavis did the hills return, the sun appear, and the afternoon heat up.  Even so, this was nothing compared with the preceding days in the Ozarks.  

On the road to Bendavis I met Patrick from San Francisco.  He's riding the Western Express and TransAm to Yorktown.

I calculate 1485 miles since starting from Newport News.  Progress!

Friday, July 9, 2021 -- 17,670 km cum - 80 km/days

This was a shorter but harder day than yesterday.  The heat and humidity are back.

I'm in Ash Grove tonight at the town hostel for cyclists.  It's an entire house.  I have it to myself, but I will have to be up at 3:30 a.m. if I want to make it to Pittsburg before rains move in mid-day tomorrow.  Yikes!

I detoured through Willard on the way to Ash Grive.  At the gas station I met Richard, who insisted on giving me $20 for dinner.  Then Eric, a cyclist, and his dog Jackson led me to a back route for the rest of the ride into Ash Grove.

Robyn's 2021 TransAm Bikecentennial: My Old Kentucky Home (Missive 3)

NOTE:  This is the third missive for Robyn's 2021 TransAm Bikecentennial ride.  The first and second missives can be found at https://attitude-maneuver.blogspot.com/2022/01/robyns-2021-transam-bikecentennial.html.  The fourth and fifth missives are at https://attitude-maneuver.blogspot.com/2022/02/robyns-2021-transam-bikecentennial-in.html .

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Slideshow

A slideshow of photos from Kentucky can be found at https://photos.app.goo.gl/zhnj7N9zMwzaHCJr8 .

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Missive No. 3:  Kentucky

After leaving The Breaks a week ago Sunday, I descended into Kentucky.  Then I climbed.  Then I descended again before climbing once more.  You get the picture.  The Blue Ridge and mountains of Virginia were behind, but the first days in Kentucky were not easy.  The Appalachians are a challenge for any bicyclist, yours truly being no exception with her 40 pound load and legs that began pushing pedals when Eisenhower was President.

Those first days were in the heart of Appalachia.  I had been warned that I would feel I had entered a third world country.  The region is indeed depressed, but I didn't find it any more depressed than some parts of Maine, let alone the countries I have been posted to overseas.  The people I encountered were uniformly kind and helpful.  I remember in particular Louis, who chatted with me at the side of the road that first morning, welcomed me to Kentucky, and gave me a flower that I carried on my front rack trunk for the rest of the day.

Berea is where Appalachia meets the Bluegrass.  I immediately felt the difference.  The Appalachians were behind me now.  The terrain turned to rolling hills with prosperous farms.  Not climbing a mountain or two every day was a welcome change, but the lack of shade made riding tough in the afternoon sun.

In the days after Berea, I passed through the land on Daniel Boone, Abraham Lincoln, and Thomas Merton.  In Bardstown I found myself in the bourbon capital of the world.  As a Northerner, I came to understand that Kentucky was the original West for the young United States.

In Kentucky I sometimes felt like the proverbial general who plans for the next war based on the last one.  After three weeks I can say unequivocally that the TransAm is different from the Northern Tier.  There are the heat and humidity, of course, but that's just part of it.  For example, there is lodging.  Last year I stayed exclusively with WarmShower (WS) hosts, at campgrounds, and in cheap motels.  In Kentucky I have stayed largely in churches, hostels, and even a volunteer fire station.  I have used my tent all of four times since leaving Yorktown.  As I struggle up hills, I sometimes question why I am carrying all the camping gear if I'm rarely using it.  But will I camp more as I get further west?

Another difference is the number of cyclists and the sense of bicycling history.  The TransAm is the original Bikecentennial route from 1976.  Some of the churches I stayed at have their guest logs going back to that first year.  

Last year I encountered several cyclists going west to east, but I never met anyone going east to west.  I really did feel alone.  This year I feel I am on a bicycle highway.  I indoor camped at churches two nights in a row with Cathy and Richard.  Then Joe caught up with me for two nights.  Nearly every day I encounter bike-packers going the other way.  Moreover, endurance racers in this year's TransAm west-to-east race speed past, giving a shout or wave as they go by.  They are doing in three weeks what I plan to do in three months.

Levi, a student at Western Kentucky University (WKU), was my high point for the past week.  We met virtually in 2017 when I spoke to WKU students about the Department of State and LGBT+ issues.  His name popped up when I was typing in a telephone number after crossing into Kentucky.  We reconnected.  He came up from Bowling Green and camped with me at Rough River Dam.  The next day he rode with me to Utica, where we stayed for the night with our LGBT WS host family Angelica and Jo.  We were both emotional when it came time to part the next morning.

Where am I overall?  I try not to think about it, but I believe I am about a quarter of the way through this year's 4200 mile journey.  I did cross into Central Time a few days ago.  That puts me about a week or ten days behind where I was on last year's Northern Tier adventure.  60-80 miles/day was my norm last year, but this year I'm averaging a standard 50.  I have done 70 miles twice, but I've also had days when I've done only 40-45.  Between the mountains, hills, and -- most of all -- the heat and humidity, that's the most I can do.  Doing 70 miles on the two days I have done so required waking before sunrise and rolling out just as the sun was coming up.  Only in the mornings is it possible to make good progress.  In the afternoons I slow to a crawl with ever more frequent hydration breaks wherever I can find a tree.

So when will I finish?  Again, I try not to think of it.  At the current pace I would guess sometime in the first half of September, but I really don't know.  I'm taking this day by day.

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Daily Log 

 

Sunday, June 20, 2021 -- 16,191 km cum - 117 km/day

This was a solid 72 mile day from The Breaks to Hindman, KY.  Lots of climbing.  The heat and humidity are back, and thus I was not shy about walking up parts of a few of the hills.

Highlights of the day include:

• Dogs -- Not as bad as I thought, but there were several.  Dismounting worked best, but I still had to use the pepper spray once.  The whistle seems useless.
• Louis -- A hiker and biker who lives in Ashcamp and who welcomed me to KY.  He gave me a flower that I secured to my front trunk for the rest of the day.
• Dave & Lisa -- They run the historical society B&B in Hindman.  Turned out the B&B is closed due to Covid, but Dave & Lisa are wonderful people.  Democrats even.  They gave me a wonderfully cold Coke.  (I had given away my own bottle of Coke to a thirsty girl along the road a few tens of km earlier.)
• Steve & his son Grayson -- They are with the Baptist church where I'm actually spending the night in Hindman.
• Cathy & Richard -- A TransAm bike-packing couple with whom I'm spending the night at the Baptist church.  They left the Methodist hostel in Elk Grove the morning of the day I arrived.

Monday, June 21, 2021 -- 16,253 km cum - 62 km/day

Shot down in Chavies after only 38 miles due to thunder stoms that are supposed to last through the night.  I'm at The First Church of God with Cathy and Richard from my last night in Hindman.  They got here before me and made arrangements with Brian the pastor.  The church is not listed on the AC maps.

I had hoped to get to Booneville today, but oh well.  When I saw the stormy forecast, I nearly stayed in Hindman.  62km for the day is better than 0.

Tuesday, June 22, 2021 -- 16,360 km cum - 107 km/day

What a difference a day makes.  The rain ended, and I set set out about 15 minutes after Richard and Cathy at 7:45 a.m..  I caught up with them on the first of three big hills on the road to Buckhorn.  By noon I had gone the 30 miles to Booneville.  The sky was clear, and the air was cool.  I decided I could do more and pushed on to Sandgap for a daily total of 65 miles.

The topography is changing.  It's still hilly, but the real mountains were behind me after Booneville.  Appalachia is also fading.  The homes and towns look more prosperous, wealthier.

I'm at the City Gone Country B&B for a luxury night.  I first called Theresa from Booneville and was lucky that the B&B was not booked tonight.  Rick picked me up from the Family Dollar in Sandgap.  I had hoped Cathy and Richard might catch up and share the B&B with me, but I think they called it a day in Booneville.  (I later learned they made it to McKee.)

Wednesday, June 23, 2021 -- 16,479 km cum - 119 km/day

Today's ride was just one km short of 75 miles.  It should have been more like 70, but I missed two turns and had to backtrack.

It was also a pretty day in rolling countryside.  This is a prosperous agricultural area, quite a contrast to Appalachia.  Harrodsburg is the oldest city in KY and the home turf of none other than Daniel Boone.

It's a cheap motel night.  There were no other options in Harrodsburg.

Thursday, June 24, 2021 -- 16,562 km cum - 83 km/day

How nice to have ridden just barely over 50 miles.  I detoured to Bardstown when I learned the inn in New Haven is closed.  I'm glad I did, as my ride took me through pleasant rolling roads through Abraham Lincoln country.  Thomas Merton also lived in the area at the Abbey of Gethsemane.  Bardstown itself is the birthplace of Stephen Foster and is the self-styled bourbon capital of the world.

This is another cheap motel night insofar as there were no other options.  I arrived early enough to go out to dinner.  How wonderful!  The next several days should also be on the short side.

It was one year ago today that I set out from Marine City to begin my ride to Washington State on the Erie Connector, Northern Lakes, and Northern Tier routes.

Friday, June 25, 2021 -- 16,642 km cum - 80 km/day

A good 50 mile day through pretty, rolling countryside.  Passed the Lincoln boyhood home in the morning and the Lincoln Birthplace National Historic Site in the afternoon.  In between I stopped at the Sweet Spot in Hodgenville.  I'm camped indoors tonight at the VFD in White Mills, surrounded by fire trucks and rescue equipment.

Tomorrow will be a short 35-40 mile day to Rough River Dam State Resort Park.  Levi from Western Kentucky University (WKU) will meet me there.  He's a glifaa connection from 2017 and plans to ride with me for a day.  It will be nice to have a companion for a bit!

Saturday-Monday, June 26-28, 2021 -- 16,898 km cum

Saturday:  ~68 km/day

Sunday:  ~68 km/day

Monday:  ~120 km/day

These were two short 40+ mile days followed by a long 74 miler.

On Saturday I covered the short but tough ride to Rough River Dam Park.  The heat and humidity are back.  Levi met me at the park, and we camped for the night at the park airport.  We enjoyed a great dinner and breakfast, and then we rode together the 40+ miles to Utica.  How wonderful it was to have a riding companion for the day!

In Utica we had a WS night with our LGBT+ hosts Angelica and Jo, who cooked a wonderful pasta dinner for us.  We were joined by TransAm cyclist Joe Stallone.  The three of us slept together in the hippie room in the garage.

It was tough saying goodbye to Levi this morning.  We had bonded quickly.  The ride to Marion was long and hot with temperatures in the upper 90s, but at least the worst of the hills are behind.  On the other hand, the land is agricultural with little in the way of shade.  It was hot, hot, hot.

Joe and I are together again tonight at the cyclist hostel hosted by the Methodist Church of Marion.  We have bunks and a shower.  The church has been hosting cyclists since the bicentennial year of 1976.

Robyn's 2021 TransAm Bikecentennial: Journey's Start and "The Breaks" (Missives 1 & 2)

NOTE:  These are the first and second missives for Robyn's 2021 TransAm Bikecentennial ride.  The third missive can be found at https://attitude-maneuver.blogspot.com/2022/01/robyns-2021-transam-bikecentennial-my.html.

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In Robyn's 2020 Bikecentennial, I rode Adventure Cycling's Northern Tier route to its western end point in Anacortes, WA, on Puget Sound.  I had not intended to ride cross-country again in 2021, but that changed in March.  A colleague at the U.S. Embassy in Dushanbe, Tajikistan, was trying to put together a bike-packing trip on the Pamir Highway.  She invited me along.  I was tempted to join, but I found myself writing back that I had no confidence that borders would be open given our continuing Covid reality.  My fingers kept writing.  Before I had even thought it, my fingers had written, "I think I'll ride the TransAm this year."  As I read back what I had written, I thought to myself, "Why not?"  Given the uncertainties of international travel brought about by Covid, why not indeed?  And so I did.

The TransAm route from Virginia to Oregon is the original Bikecentennial route from 1976.  I set out from my home in Maine in mid-May.  After a break for a family reunion, I stood at the TransAm's start in Yorktown, VA, on June 6.  Three months later on September 6 I rolled up to the end at the mouth of the Columbia River in Astoria, OR.

As I rode, I wrote missives to family and friends.  What follows below is the first of those missives that I wrote from the VA/KY border.  After the missive itself, I have transcribed the day-to-day log that I kept in a spiral notebook as I inched westward.  You will also find a link to a slideshow of photos taken along the way.

Will I do a similar trip in 2022?  As long as health and strength allow, I'll be riding onward to some destination.  I know by now that bike-packing is in my blood.  

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Slideshow

A slideshow of photos from Maine and Virginia can be found at https://photos.app.goo.gl/xbcyMpoLCzzYHzeJ8

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Missive Nos. 1 & 2:  Maine and Virginia

I'm at Breaks Interstate Park on the VA/KY border.  It's Saturday.  After seven solid days and 358 miles of riding, I've earned a day off to rest up, do laundry, and to explore a bit on two feet instead of two wheels.

What a difference a week makes.  I'm much stronger and have regained my climbing legs.  The weather has been beautiful, both cooler and less humid than on the day of my miserable ride from Williamsburg to Richmond.  The scenery and small towns of southwestern Virginia have been pleasingly reminiscent of the hills and mountains of New England.

Those hills mean I've regained my legs the old fashioned way by climbing hill after mountain after hill.  I did one 60+ mile day, but I've also had a 40 mile day.  This pales in comparison with my 60-80 mile days last summer, but then I remember that I was quite content with 40 mile days when I crossed the Greens of VT and Whites of NH in 2019.  Better mileage days will come when I'm out of the Appalachians.

The highest mountains are, in fact, already behind me.  I was consistently above 3000 feet on the Blue Ridge Mountain Parkway, and I was at 3800 feet crossing through the Mt. Roger's area a few days ago.  The descent from the Blue Ridge to Mt. Vesuvius was memorable for its steep grade.  I'm glad I heeded advice from Martha and Jim Gullo to take breaks to give my rims time to cool.  They were almost too hot to touch.  I did the same on a few other descents.  On the steep ascents I took frequent hydration breaks, sometimes every half km, but in the end I was able to get to the top with both feet on the pedals.  I've drunk so much Gatorade and eaten so many bananas that I should buy stock. 

I stayed in motels twice when there was no other choice and, in the second instance, to avoid severe thunderstorms that were about to break over my head.  I've also had two good camping nights and was able to put my stove to good use.

My most enjoyable nights, however, were at hostels.  The first was The Broken Fiddle in Damascus.  The Appalachian Trail passes near Damascus, and I was the one cyclist in a full house of AT backpackers.  (Thanks to TransAm cyclist Mike Lowan for recommending it!)  I had dinner that night with Midnight and Breezy, a young couple from MA who are thru-hiking the AT.  They asked me for my trail name, and I had to explain that this tradition has not caught on with bike-packers.  At least not yet, so they suggested I start it.  So here it is:  Never too Late.  That's my self-selected trail name for the summer.  I missed my chance to ride the TransAm when it was first mapped in 1976, but here I am on it at last.  Most of the route is signed well as U.S. Bike Route (USBR 76), a reminder of that bicentennial year.

My second hostel was the community hall of the Elk Ridge Methodist Church.  I was alone this night, but I used this solitude to read through the log of cyclists who have stayed here since the Methodist community opened its doors to cyclists in 1976.  Again I felt surrounded by the history of Bikecentennial and the TransAm.

Problems?  None to speak of other than overcoming the hubris with which I got off the train in Newport News on June 6.  The Atlantis, aka Woodswoman II.  My only physical problem has been a pain in the neck that I woke up with one morning.  I must have slept in some funny way during the night.  I suppose one could say I'm my own pain in the neck.  It's nearly gone after a couple of days of Ibuprofen.

Tomorrow I cross into KY for more, albeit lower, hills and legions of bike-chasing dogs for which the state is infamous.  Forward I go!

From The Breaks,

Never too Late Robyn

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Daily Log

Starting odometer reading:  15,055 km

Wednesday-Friday, May 12-14, 2021 -- 

Wednesday:  15,134 km cumulative - 79 km for the day

Thursday:  15,187 km cumulative - 53 km for the day

Friday:  train to Boston - 0 km for the day

Just had a wonderful Amtrak sendoff with Lily and Ellen at the Brunswick train station.  I'm on the Downeaster to Boston, where Jessica will meet me with her bike.  We'll find dinner somewhere, and then I'm off to Washington on the Night Owl -- with a sleeper!

I must admit almost to having tears in my eyes as I left home, but soon it felt good to be on a fully loaded bike again under my own power.  I am carrying more in the way of cooking gear -- espresso maker include -- and I am out of shape after the winter.  Still, it was a good ride down to Bangor on Wednesday.  I stayed the night at Gret and Mark's and went out to dinner with Greg.  How strange it is to eat out in a restaurant after this long Covid year!

I had a shorter but equally wonderful ride to Searsport on Thursday.  Ellen me me there with her pickup.  We put Woodswoman II in the back and went on to Belfast for a good dinner at a small pub near the waterfront.

Today Ellen drove me to Brunswick over the same 80-mile route that I biked last year.  Lily met us there with coffee.  Having the two of them with me as I boarded the Downeaster felt like a real bon voyage!

In short, this year's adventure has begun.

PS -- Jessica led me on a delightful 15-mile ride around the Boston waterfront followed by a seafood dinner.  I'm now in my sleeper to Washington.  It's the first time I've been in a Boston-DC sleeper since the 1980s!

 

 

Saturday, May 15, 2021 -- 15,214 km cum - 27 km/day

Just a short ride today from Odenton to my sister's apartment in Gambrills, MD.  I don't know where the extra km came from.  The distance from Odenton to Gambrills is less than 8 km.  I did have to do some walking to/from the "Bike Doctor" to have my rear fender replaced after it was broken by Amtrak, but that's too short a distance to explain the extra km.

Wait a second.  It was the ride around Boston with Jessica.  That explains the extra distance.

Sunday, June 6, 2021 -- 15,299 km cum - 85 km/day

Only a 53 mile day on flat terrain, but it was tough.  Despite walks and fitness room while I was at our family reunion in Arizona in the second half of May, three weeks of inactivity took their toll.  My legs are woefully out of shape.  I knew the heat would be intense on the ride from Newport News to Yorktown to Williamsburg, and given that Amtrak didn't get me to Newport News until after 11 a.m., I knew I would be riding in the hottest part of the day.  But I forgot just how oppressive the heat and humidity are in Virginia.  I'll have to keep my days short until I'm back in shape, but the heat may keep the days short even then.

The good news is that I'm staying with a wonderful WS family, Jartha and Jim Gullo.  They fed me, and I've had a wonderful shower and a bed for the night.  I can't put into words what their hospitality means to me at the end of this first day.

Monday, June 7, 2021 -- 15,411 km cum - 113 km/day

I'm writing this on Tuesday in Richmond.  This, my third day in, is a down day.  Already.

Monday was the worst, most difficult riding day of my life, worse even than my 2008 ride from Tashkent, UZ, to Khujand, TJ.  It was even dangerous.

The day started well enough with a good breakfast in Williamsburg.  The first 50 miles went well on the mostly flat Capital Trail.

Things began to fall apart in mid-afternoon.  At first I was just tired and increasingly weak.  I had to push Woodswoman up even the slightest inclines.  I had to take longer and more frequent breaks.  Then the cramps started, not only in my legs.  My hearing became funny as though I had wax in my ears.  I could tell my heart was racing.  As I walked the final blocks to the Hampton Inn in downtown Richmond -- I had abandoned all thoughts of camping -- I had to sop, sit, and rest.  Frankly, I was getting scared.

Heat exhaustion.  For the first time in my life, I experienced severe heat exhaustion.  It wasn't funny.  I pushed myself too far.  I may even have been in a state bordering on heat stroke.

I may have to curtail this trip.  I'll continue forward for the next few days starting as early as I can and keeping my miles short.  Then I'll take stock.  This trip is supposed by be challenging, but it is also supposed to be fun.  Yesterday was not fun.

Wednesday, June 9, 2021 -- 15,492 km cum - 80 km/day

It's now Thursday, and I am chilling out, resting with my friends Ron and Ellen in Afton.

I got up at 4:15 a.m. on Wednesday and was pedaling at 6:15 a.m.  I took the Google-recommended route to Mineral because it was only 50 miles, some 15 miles shorter than the official AC route.  It definitely was a better day with good roads and light traffic, but I remained spooked by Monday's experience.  I took frequent breaks, drank lots more water, downed a sports drink at the halfway point, and ate a banana for potassium.  It took me 5 1/2 hours to go the 50 miles to the B&B I had reserved in Mineral.

But it was sticky and uncomfortable the whole way.  The trip was better than Monday's but it decidedly was not fun.  I called Ron and asked him to pick me up.  I announce to the world that I planned to abandon the trip.

This morning, after a long, restful and deep sleep, I'm not so sure.  Might it be cooler on the other side of the mountains?  Could I shed some weight and plan on more motels?  Perhaps.  Stay tuned.

Friday-Saturday, June 11-12, 2021 -- 15,571 km cum - 79 km/day

That's actually only 79 km over two days, but I'm going forward.  On Friday I rode the steep climb up Afton Mountain to Rockfish Gap.  That was all of 10 km, but it was steep.  Ron met me there with his car.  We put Woodswoman on the back and returned to his and Ellen's home, stopping along the way to visit the newly reopened Blue Ridge Tunnel.

I spent the evening repacking.  The Chromebook is going home, and Ron & Ellen will mail my cool weather clothes and other supplies to me down the road.  This morning, Ron returned me to Rockfish Gap, and off I went!  I'm camped for the night at Mallard Duck campground on the road to Lexington.

How far will I go?  I really don't know.  Today's was a hard ride on the Blue Ridge Mountain Parkway with a number of long climbs.  I pushed Woodswoman at times.  I'm clearly not in the shape I was in last August.

Highlights of the day were one black bear, one deer, better weather, a rim-heating descent into Vesuvius, and a snow cone at Jimmy's outside Vesuvius.  Dinner consisted of canned black beans (courtesy of Ellen) and quinoa cooked on my MSR International stove.  Hurrah, I'm camping!

Moreover, today my ride started to become fun again.

Sunday, June 13, 2021 -- 15,665 km cum - 94 km/day

A good 59 mile day to Troutville.  I'm slow and clearly out of condition as compared with last summer, but I am doing better than I was a week ago.

I lingered far longer in Lexington over a second breakfast than I had intended.  Reason?  Claudia and her husband Frank.  They are fascinating people who are athletic into their 80s.  Both are geologists, and Claudia is also a journalist.

I opted for the Comfort Inn tonight.  It's a good thing I did.  Severe storms struck shortly after I checked in.  It's good to be indoors.

Monday, June 14, 2021 -- 15,786 km cum - 91 km/day

This was another good 51-52 mile day to Radford, VA, that took me to the end of Map 12 and on to Map 11.  I'm finding the going harder than last summer, but I am moving forward steadily if slowly.

Why is it harder this year?  Heat and humidity are a big part, but I'm also a year older and out of shape after the long Covid winter.  There isn't much I can do about the heat and humidity, but I do feel my riding strength and endurance returning.

I also shouldn't discount the terrain with its ups and downs.  It reminds me of the Alleghenies north of Pittsburgh where I rode in 2019.

Today I met my first eastbound bike-packer.  Mike Lowham started from his home in Laramie, WY, on May 17.  Oh, youth!

I'm at the Quality Inn in Radford.  There are no campgrounds or WS hosts in the area.  Given the heat, I don't mind these motel nights.

Tuesday, June 15, 2021 -- 15,857 km cum - 101 km/day

Finally I have had a good, normal bike-packing day, some 63 miles from Radford to the campground in Rural Retreat.  Why was today better?  The humidity was low, and the temperature rose only to the upper 70s F.  Also, after a week on the road, perhaps I'm getting my legs back.  Perhaps.

I was even able to enjoy the rolling VA countryside.  At a truck stop, I met and talked with Sue from Connecticut.  She's driving down to NC.

At last a truly enjoyable day!

Wednesday, June 16, 2021 -- 15,936 km cum - 79 km/day

The good weather and the good riding continue.  I just checked in at The Broken Fiddle in Damascus.  It's a hostel for backpackers and bike-packers.  For $30 I get a bunk, shower, and laundry.  Damascus is reputed to be "The Friendliest Town on the AT."

If only this wonderful cool and dry weather could continue!

PS -- I had dinner at the local diner with Breezy and Midnight, two young AT thru-hikers from Massachusetts.  In the diner we met another couple who are biking the TransAm.  Perhaps I'll see more of them along the way?

Why do AT thru-hikers get trail names but TransAm riders do not?

Thursday, June 17, 2021 -- 16,001 km cum - 65 km/day

This was a short 40 mile day by design from Damascus to Elk Garden.  It was by design because I knew there would be a 3.7 mile climb of 1500 feet at 8-9% grade.  I took it slowly with hydration breaks every 0.5 km, but I made it without having to get off and push.  By 3 p.m. I had arrived in Elk Garden and checked in at the bike hostel sponsored by the local Methodist community.  After dropping my rear bags and emptying most of the front two, I rode into Rosedale and back to get a few things for dinner.  Then it was off to the outdoor, summer cold-water-only shower for a most refreshing wash-up.

I should also mention this morning's good Southern breakfast (i.e., biscuits, gravy, and grits) at the diner in Damascus.  I said goodbye to Breezy and Midnight and talked with others at The Broken Fiddle before I headed on my way.

Last but not least, I had my first truly good night's sleep.

In short, after six days of riding since leaving Ron and Ellen's, I'm feeling stronger and am beginning to enjoy myself.  I know there will be hard days ahead and that this spell of cooler, drier weather will end, but for now it's enough that in these days I have re-captured the feeling of last summer on the Northern Tier.

Friday, June 18, 2021 -- 16,074 km cum - 73 km/day

A 45-mile day to Breaks Interstate Park, the VA-KY border, and my firt rest day since leaving from Ron & Ellen's last Saturday.  That's about 358 miles for the week, not bad but not great.  Not bad because I was going up and down in the Blue Ridge and Appalachians the whole way.  I was remembering today that I was quite happy with 40 mile days when I went through the Greens and Whites of VT and NH in 2019.  Not great because I'm nowhere near the consistent 60-80 mile days of last year.

I had more steep climbing at the start and end of today's ride.  In another week, will I at last be out of the Appalachians?  Perhaps, but I need to get through Kentucky first.

Enough.  I have earned tomorrow's rest day.

Robyn's 2020 Bikecentennial

1976, America's bicentennial year, seems both long ago and like yesterday.  For me it was the year I graduated from college.  Rather, as is customarily said at UVa, I took my degree.  Like most college students in those years, I used a bicycle for local transportation in Charlottesville, VA, and sometimes beyond.  Mine was a French Gitane road bike that stayed with me for a number of years before being stolen in Maryland in 1980.  I still shed a tear for that bicycle.

1976 was also the year of Bikecentennial, first an idea and then an organization encouraging bicyclists to ride across the US in that bicentennial year.  Although I came to know a number of bicyclists who did take up the challenge, I was not one of them.  I had an internship in Washington, DC, that summer, and my focus was already graduate school and beyond.  I missed my chance, and then life happened.

Although I became a lifelong bicycle commuter racking up 5000-7000 miles/year, my bike-packing of necessity was short-duration and short-distance.  I went through more bicycles than I can remember, riding some of them until the frames cracked.

By the early 2000s I was riding a Rivendell Atlantis that I took with me while posted overseas with the Department of State Foreign Service.  I used it for commuting in Moscow, Bucharest, Tashkent, and Astana, and I went on longer trips as time allowed.

In 2010 I bought a second Rivendell Atlantis that I kept in the US to ride when on R&R or home leave.  My freedom came with retirement last year, an event I celebrated by bike-packing from Washington, DC, to my retirement home in Maine.  Bikecentennial the organization had become Adventure Cycling (AC), and I used AC maps to chart my course.  The portion from Erie, PA, to Maine used AC's Northern Tier route.  I describe that trip in Two Wheels Out of State.  My two Rivendells finally met each other when I arrived home in Maine.

Last year's trip whetted my appetite for more.  As 2020 dawned, I began planning a cross-country trip.  Not wanting to repeat that portion of the Northern Tier I had ridden in 2019, I decided I would cross Quebec and Ontario, picking up AC's Erie Connector that would take me back into the US at Marine City, MI.  From there I would cross Michigan's Lower Peninsular, pick up the Northern Lakes route, and eventually rejoin the Northern Tier in Minnesota.  From there I would continue out to the Northern Tier's end point in Anacortes, WA.

As anyone reading this knows, the world as we knew it disappeared in early 2020.  Covid came upon us with lock-downs, turmoil, and death.  The Canadian border closed.  Adventure Cycling itself urged its members to stay home this year.

Instead, I set out on May 31 to bike-pack around my home state of Maine.  I reasoned I would never be more than a 2-3 day ride from home but could still do a trip that would take up to 4-6 weeks without ever crossing a state line.  It seemed the best I could do under the circumstances.

That was the plan, but a strange thing happened when I reached Brunswick, ME.  A breakfast conversation planted a seed in my head that took root.  Several days later I abandoned the Maine ride.  My daily log of that ride follows below together with the log of a very different ride that followed it.  The long and short is that I dipped my front wheel into the waters of Puget Sound at Anacortes, WA, on August 25.  In 2020 I got to do my bikecentennial at long last and after all.

Before I get to the log, I pause to make a dedication.

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Dedication

Many friends know that I call my car Hillary in tribute to Hillary Clinton, my favorite Secretary of State during my years at the State Department.  Some friends have asked why I don't have names for my two Rivendells.  For a long time I could not come up with names that are meaningful to me, but this spring the light dawned.  One of the idols of my life is environmentalist and feminist Anne LaBastille, someone I wish I could have met before she passed away in 2011.  She wrote four books, the Woodswoman series, that inspired many women to embrace independent, outdoor life in nature.  In honor of her and in answer to my friends, I have christened my two Rivendells Woodswoman I and Woodswoman II.  What follows is the story of my bikecentennial journey with Woodswoman II.

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Bike Around Maine (BAM)

Starting odometer reading:  7693km

Sunday, May 31, 2020 -- 7774km cumulative / 81km for the day

Woodswoman II on the Banks of the Penobscot

It has been a beautiful first day on the road, Burlington to Bangor even as the country falls apart around us.  It feels good to be on the road again eight months after the end of my last journey.  It has been a winter of riding indoors on rollers followed by a number of 40-mile local grocery shopping days on the hilly roads from Burlington to Lincoln and back again through Howland and Enfield.  Throw in some days on cross country skis and snowshoes.  That winter regime was sufficient for me to say that today's 50-mile ride was a joy, not a struggle.  

I am staying at the home of my friends Mark and Greg for this first night.  They are away, but their door is always open to friends.

Monday, June 1, 2020 -- 7858 km cum / 84km day

           

Wonderful day as I rode Brewer to Bucksport over the Penobscot Narrows Bridge and on to Northport.  I spent Tuesday with my friend Ellen, who took me for a beautiful afternoon to Camden and then to the top of Mt. Battie for breathtaking views of Penobscot Bay.

 

Wednesday, June 3, 2020 -- 7995 km cum / 137km day

 

Today was my greatest fully loaded daily mileage ever, some 85 miles.  Using an older Maine atlas, at one point I found myself on the shoulder of a controlled access highway with a speed limit of 65mph.  It was perhaps the easiest part of the ride even if illegal under Maine law.  Regretfully, I took the first exit and was back on typical two lane, no shoulder roads.

 

The day was overcast with drizzle toward the end, and I opted for a cheap motel in Brunswick rather than face setting up and camping in the rain. 

 

 

Thursday, June 4, 2020 -- 8069km cum / 74km day

 

This was a low mileage day, but finally I'm camping.  My stopping point for the night is Martin's Spring Campground near Turner, north of Auburn and Lewiston.  It's a pretty enough spot, but at $43/night it's as expensive as a KOA.  Why do some private campgrounds charge bicyclists these outrageous rates as though their bicycles and smallest of tents are in the same category as an RV?

I had a long breakfast in Brunswick with ML, the only other solo bike-packing woman I know.  We met last year on the Northern Tier in Vermont.  She would still like to go cross-country this year and urged me not to give up on my own cross-country dream.

 

Friday, June 5, 2020 -- 8151 km cum / 82km day

 

Over $100 for an RV site in Bryon, ME.  Talk about highway robbery!  It makes yesterday's $43 seem modest by comparison.  What is it with Maine?  I never encountered anything this outrageous last year.

 

It is four years to the day since Dima died.  I still can't believe he left us at such a young age, all of 33 years.  How I miss you in my life, my dearest friend!  I dedicate this tour of Maine to you. 

 

Saturday - Sunday, June 6-7, 2020 -- 8224 km cum / 73km day

 

Height of Land, ME

This was my lowest mileage day so far, less than 50 miles, but it was my biggest climbing day up from Bryon on Rt. 17 through Height of Land with an elevation gain on the order of 1000m (~3000ft), reminiscent of Kancamagus Pass in New Hampshire last year.  After the climb it was down the other side to Rangeley Lake.  After checking in and setting up camp at the state park, I had a 20 mile round-trip to the grocery store in Rangeley.

 

I now sit at a picnic table by the lake in Rangeley State Park.  We car camped here as a family in 1994 when my son was 5 years old.  We were to have stayed just one night, but that got extended to two after I locked the keys in the trunk of Dad's old Cadillac.  It was my introduction to Maine and one of the best memories from the brief window in the 1990s when it seemed our marriage might work.

 

Monday, June 8, 2020 -- 8283km cum / 59km day

This was a short day by design and an easy ride from Rangeley to Stratton where I am camped at Cathedral Pines on Flagstaff Lake.  It is a beautiful spot with towering Norwegian pines on the shore of this artificial lake that flooded the town of Flagstaff in the late 1940s.  It's just below the Canadian border at the point I would would have crossed if Covid had not closed the border.  Sigh. . . .

Tuesday, June 9, 2020 -- 8438km cum / 155km day

 

Today I set a personal fully loaded distance record that should last a lifetime:  155km.  That's over 90 miles, just a tad shy of a full English century.

 

Setting the record was in part accidental.  I took a short cut that landed me in a labyrinth of dirt roads.  I realized my mistake when it was too late to backtrack.

 

Also, when I reached Bingham I decided to push on another 25 miles to Abbot Village.  I had no clue what awaited me:  steep climbs that made the ride up to Rangeley seem tame.  I raised the white flag and pushed the bike up the last bit up several hills.  The views from the top were, however, spectacular.

 

I thought I was done when I got to Abbot Village, but no.  I needed food, and there wasn't even a gas station in sight.  I had to ride 8km to Guilford for food and then back to Abbot Village where I have a room for the night at Abbot Trailhead Lodging.  My reward for the long day is a bed with a pillow.

 

On to home tomorrow.  I have decided ML is right.  I can't do the cross-country trip I had planned through Canada, but I can still do the U.S. portion starting from where my planned route entered Michigan.  I will drive there next week and leave the car with my cousins in Monroe.  From there it's onward to the Pacific!

 

My legs have never been this hard and firm.  I'll never be in better shape than now.

 

Wednesday, June 10, 2020 -- 8542 km cum / 104km day

 

I made it home before the rain.  Hurray for an excellent ten days on the road.  That's 849km or 528 miles for the trip to some beautiful parts of Maine.  That's more than enough to make up the 200 miles between Erie, PA, and Toledo, OH, the one part of the Northern Tier that I'll miss.  After all, last year I rode the NT from Erie all the way home to Maine.  I may not be able to do the through trip I had intended, but when done I will, in effect, have section ridden the full Northern Tier.

 

I am writing on Thursday as I do laundry, rest, and start getting ready for the MI to WA trip.  Robyn's BAM, her Bike Around Maine, is over; her Bikecentennial is about to begin.

 

 

* * * * * * * *

 

Robyn's Bikecentennial

 

 

Starting odometer reading:  8659km

 

Wednesday, June 24, 2020 -- 8791km cum / 132km day

Setting out from Marine City, MI

I am finally on the road in Michigan some 132km from my starting point at the ferry terminal in Marine City.  If the borders had been open, this is where I would have crossed into the US on Adventure Cycling's Erie Connector route.  Overall it was an 80 mile day to a point a bit beyond North Branch, but to my surprise it was not an easy one even if Michigan is flat.  There was a steady headwind most of the day, and I am out of shape after two weeks off the bike.  My left ankle started to ache about 2/3 of the way through the day, bringing back memories of a similar ache last year.  I hope it doesn't get worse.

Sutter's Campground charges only $10/night for bicyclists.  Wonderful!

Thursday, June 25, 2020 -- 8909km cum / 118km day

This was an easier day as the legs get back in shape.  I started with a $10 breakfast in Oyster Bay, took an afternoon break in the German town of Frankenmouth, and am now camped for the night at the state campground outside Bay City at the base of Lake Huron.  I took a wrong turn somewhere in Bay City, and it was 8pm by the time I made it to the campground.  I will have to wait until morning to see the lake.  Sigh.  My left ankle continues to ache as I pedal.

Friday, June 26, 2020 -- 9001km cum / 92km day

This is a hotel night in Clare, MI, given the forecast forovernight rain.  The first half of the day was hard going into the wind.  The second half was easier on the Pere Marquette rail-trail with trees acting as a wind screen.

Wind.  I undersestimated the prevailing west wind.  Hills are easier.  One sees what one gets.  A hill might be a tough climb, but it has a top.  The wind is the gift that keeps giving.  I admit to being quite worn out after just three days.

Saturday, June 27, 2020 -- 9119km cum / 118km day

This was a lovely, good biking day as my body gets back in the mode.  The countryside north of Clare reminds me of Maine with more forest than I've seen so far, low rolling hills, and much less wind.

I am camped tonight at a $15 primitive USFS site outside Luther at the Little Manistee River.  My shower consisted of lying in the river with my bike clothes on.  The cool water was delightfully refreshing at the end of a long day.  I will be listening to the gurgle of the river as I sleep. Wonderful!

Sunday, June 28, 2020 -- 9223km cum / 114km day

Another good biking day but longer than I expected.  It seems I made a mistake in adding together the mileages from three AC maps on this day that brought me to the end of The Erie Connector -- to my mind The Weary Erie -- and the start of The Northern Lakes route.  I have now ridden more than 300 miles, not quite 10% of my expected route.

I have made it to Lake Michigan!  I am at Orchard Pines State Park outside Manistee on bluffs overlooking the lake.  I arrived early enough to watch the sunset over the lake.  Watching it brought back memories of being in Aktau, Kazakhstan, with Sultana in 2017 and watching the sun as it set over the Caspian.

Jeremy and his family at the site next to me invited me to join them for dinner.  I took the risk and had a lovely evening.

I've decided to give Woodswoman II a day of rest tomorrow.  I think we've both earned it.

Tuesday, June 30, 2020 -- 9332km cum / 109km day

I'm back in the saddle after a good day of rest, the best part of which was spent in the shade of a tree.  There was one good climb after Arcadia, and I did end up pushing Woodswoman up the last little bit.  The top rewarded with a breathtaking panoramic vista.

Today I met Dan, another long distance cyclist, and his sag-wagon wife Melody.

I am camped for free tonight at the D. H. Day NPS campground at an overflow spot reserved for cyclists.  There are no showers.  Instead, I waded into Lake Michigan with my biking clothes on and enjoyed allowing the surf to lap over me.  The beach reminds me of Lake Issykul in Kyrgyzstan.

Wednesday, July 1, 2020 -- 9426km cum / 94km day

I wanted to stay at the state park campground in Traverse City, but it's still closed due to Covid.  Instead, I am at a no-shower, no-bathroom basic campground in Acme.  Still, at $5/night for cyclists, the price is right.I'm having trouble with middle-of-the-night insomnia.  I had forgotten that I had the same problem last year.  I think it is (extreme) exercise-induced.

Thursday, July 2 2020 -- 9511km / 85km day

This was only a 50-mile day, but it was one of my most enjoyable riding days so far.  I am spending the night with WarmShowers (WS) hosts John and Bree and their three children in Charlevoix.  Theirs is a bicycling family, and I will be sleeping in a garage with multiple bicycles hanging over my head.

On the road today I met Nate and Sanya, a young bike-packing couple on their way to Mackinac Island.  We leapfrogged each other several times during the day.

I'm just back from a marvelous, refreshing swim in Lake Michigan at the Charlevoix beach.  How wonderful it has been to have a bicycling day that got me to my destination early enough to do some fun exploring.

Friday, July 3, 2020 -- 9629km cum / 118 km day

I've made it to Mackinaw City.  To be precise, I've made it to the Wilderness State Park campground situated to the south of town.  I made use of Michigan's do not refuse policy for the first time to get a spot at this full campground.

Mackinac Island is my Pittsburgh for this summer's journey, a destination beyond which I consider myself committed to the full trip.  That is how I felt when I got to Pittsburgh on last year's Washington, DC, to Maine trip.

In the morning I hung around for a long breakfast and long goodbye in Charlevoix.  What a wonderful town and what a wonderful family!I enjoyed beautiful vistas of Lake Michigan for much of today's ride.  As in Charlevoix, I jumped into the lake for a delicious cool-down on this hot day.  

Saturday, July 4, 2020 -- 9665km cum / 36km day

This likely will be my shortest day, all of 22 miles, outside of an intentional rest day.  It was necessitated by the need to take two ferries, the first to Mackinac Island and the second to St. Ignace. I have entered the tourist zone.  I waited over an hour to get a table for a pancake breakfast in Mackinaw City.  On Mackinac Island, the crowds were so dense that it was hard to move -- this in the middle of a pandemic.  Only about half the people in those crowds were wearing masks. 

Mackinac is a car-free island where the horse and bicycle rule, but I say give me cars.  The density of incompetent bicycle riders makes it one of the most dangerous places I have experienced on two wheels.  To give the island the benefit of the doubt, I visited on the most crowded day of the year.  I could see how the island would be quite pleasant on an autumn day with fewer tourists.  For today, however, I walked around, bought fudge, and took the ferry to St. Ignace.

It's July 4.  I grieve for my country even as I live my bicycling dream from 1976.

Sunday, July 5, 2020 -- 9828km cum / 163km day

100 miles, my first English century since Uzbekistan in 2008.  Wow.  Even I'm impressed with myself.  With a full 45lb load, no less.  US Route 2 may not be the most interesting of roads, but it is largely flat from St. Ignace to Manistique.  Moreover, the wind was not a serious problem today.  Still, wow.  This is a record I will not try to break.  After all, this is supposed to be a fun trip, not a record-setting grind.

I'm at Indian Lake State Park outside Manistique.  Two young girls, Ali and Kinsey, befriended me as soon as I arrived.  Both are adorable chatterboxes and a joy to be around at the end of a long day.

There is no running water at this campground.  Once again my shower was a dip in the lake. 

Monday, July 9, 2020 -- 9920km cum / 92km day

Gee, it was only a 60 mile ride today to Eskanaba, but it wore me out more than yesterday's century.  Perhaps the century ride was making itself known today?  A temperature above 30C (90F) didn't help, and neither did the headwind off Lake Michigan or heavy traffic on Route 2.  My left ankle started to ache again after several days of respite.  Sigh.

But I checked in a the Pioneer Motel just before a thunderstorm.  I'm showered, fed, and now doing laundry.  The day is ending well.

Good points of the day included a long morning goodbye with Ali and Kinsey and a chance meeting with another cyclist riding the Northern Lakes route in the reverse direction.  A seagull provided the strangest moment of the day.  As I walked to the laundromat on a quiet, empty street, the seagull seems to have decided I was invading its territory and dived at me twice, hitting me in the head firmly with a wing on the second dive.  Not wanting to star in a remake of Hitchcock's The Birds, I'll return to the hotel by a different route.  

Wednesday, July 8, 2020 -- 10,053km cum / 133km day

I hit the road again after a day of rest in Eskanaba.  I did as little as possible yesterday other than take a walk to the lakefront for a last look at Lake Michigan before my route turns west.  Along the way I met and had a nice long chat with Judy who asked me about my travels.

I got a good early start at 9:30am after breakfast at the Swedish Pantry.  The start was easy, not too hot on flat roads.  I must have done the first 50 miles in less than 4 hours.  Then the day turned hotter and hillier with road construction the final ten miles.  After checking the forecast that promises a stormy night, I opted for a cheap $49 motel room in Crystal Falls.  Along the way I met Christian, a young cyclist who is on his way to Maine doing the reverse of my trip.  He started from Anacortes, WA, all of three weeks ago.  Wow. 

Thursday, July 9, 2020 -- 10,097km cum / 43km day

Today's total was a measly 25 miles more or less, and not all of that was productive mileage along my route.  Predicted morning showers turned into a persistent heavy, chilly rain.  I stopped in Caspian in late morning to drink coffee and reassess.  Already soaked through and through, I decided to cut the day short.  I called all motels further along my route.  None had vacancies, and the rain was now predicted to continue through the night.  I abandoned all thoughts of going further.  I found a motel in Iron City just north of Caspian. As if on purpose, the sun came out later.  (As I write, however, it is again overcast.)  I spent the afternoon giving Woodswoman II a thorough cleaning at a nearby car wash.  The motel is on a lake, and I took a quick swim just before sunset. Oh well, tomorrow is another day. 

Friday, July 10, 2020 -- 10,237km cum / 140km day

Yesterday's "another day" turned into a good day indeed as I finally crossed a state line into Wisconsin.  The roads are good, the scenery is pleasant, and the heat is not too bad.  On the negative side, I made a wrong turn near day's end, thereby adding 10 miles to my daily total.  I am staying at Big Lake State Campground west of Big Junction where, once again, my shower was a jump in the lake.

Saturday, July 11, 2020 -- 10,372km cum / 135km day

This was another good cycling day, 83 miles in all.  Along the way I had a nice rest break in Butternut, where I met Jim at the local bar where I stopped for a soda.

I am camped at a USFS campground near Clam Lake.  The mosquitoes here are the worst I have experienced since camping in Novgorod in the Soviet Union in 1981.  Big, vicious, and numerous are the applicable descriptors.  They are so bad that I'm eating my evening sandwich with mosquito netting over my head.  I lift the netting only long enough to take a bite or sip my drink.  I'll take care in the tent to kill mosquitoes individually before I settle down for the night.  It's the only way I will be able to sleep.

Sunday, July 12, 2020 -- 10,494km cum / 122km day

This has been a beautiful day that almost went wrong when I took a wrong turn in the morning.  I was at least 10 miles off route when I realized my mistake.  Fortunately, I saw two bicycle jerseys in the distance that were approaching.  The jerseys belonged to Mary and Gerry Hansen, local WarmShowers hosts.  They charted an entirely new route for me that went through a beautiful lake area and got me back on track without any appreciable increase in mileage.

I am camped tonight in the city park campground in Birchwood.  It's a nice spot . . . with (needed!) showers and so far no onslaught of mosquitoes.

Monday, July 13, 2020 -- 10,616km cum / 122km day

It has been a good but hot riding day from Birchwood to St. Croix Falls, some 75 miles in all.  Minnesota is on the other side of the St. Croix River.  I'll head that way on Wednesday.

The tasks for Tuesday are rest and laundry.  I'm at a cheap, almost seedy motel called The Dalles.  I've almost returned to Covid reality.  Everything at the motel is contact-less.  Even the pizza I ordered was left on a table for me to pick up after the driver deposited it.  Covid is taken seriously here, perhaps because St. Croix Falls is so close to Minneapolis - St. Paul and also, perhaps, because of the uptick of cases in Wisconsin.  I'm not even sure how I will get change to do laundry.  My main task, however, is to rest up after a good week of riding. 

I can also report that my left ankle no longer aches.  On the day I entered Wisconsin, I took time to play with the saddle height and angle.  That's all it took.  I seem to have found the right combination.  It's amazing how small adjustments like this that are of no concern for shorter local rides are a major factor when one is riding 60-80 miles nearly every day.  

Wednesday, July 15, 2020 -- 10,758km / 142 km day

I'm in Minnesota for the first time in my life after a good 88 mile day through pretty farm country.  The only hills were in the morning around the St. Croix River.  The morning was cool but the day became increasingly hot as the afternoon wore on.  I had the choice of 70 miles and camping or 88 miles and a motel.  So it is that I'm at the Rodeway Inn in Milaca, MN.

Along the way I passed through Sunrise, "the birthplace of Hollywood legend Richard Widmark."  Just before Milaca I met Aimee and Juben who are dong the reverse of my trip.  Bike-packers stand out to each other from a long way off, the loaded panniers and gear flashing out like a neon sign.  Aimee and Juben set out from the Pacific five weeks ago.

Thursday, July 16, 2020 -- 10,899km cum / 141km day

My mileage today fell within a fraction of a km of yesterday's.  The morning was cool and drizzly, the afternoon hot and humid.  I crossed the Mississippi, although I must say that the river crossing in Minnesota does little to call to mind the mighty Mississippi that one thinks of further to the south.  After that the route was along a good quality rail-trail.  I am happy but also admit to being tired at the end of a long day.  I am camped at a nice city campground in Sauk Centre where, wonder of wonders, there are free showers.  

Friday, July 17, 2020 -- 11,025km cum / 126km day

Hot, hot, hot!  This was the hottest day yet, over 30C from start to finish.  I was soaked in my own sweat and chugged water, Gatorade, and Mountain Dew all day long.   It reminded me of my ride from Tashkent to Khujand in 2008.

It turns out that Sauk Centre was the birthplace of Sinclair Lewis.  In these turbulent times, I pray that his It Can't Happen Here was a warning for the 1930s, not a prediction for today.  I stopped briefly in front of his childhood home.

The forecast is for severe storms overnight.  I took the hint and checked in at the Super 8 in Fergus Falls.  On to Fargo tomorrow!

Saturday, July 18, 2020 -- 11,130km cum / 105km day

Today's was an easier 65 mile ride into Fargo on a somewhat cooler day.  It's a good thing I stayed at the Super 8 last night.  The storms woke me even inside the motel.  I would not have wanted to be in a tent.

I'm in North Dakota, another first in my life.  I checked into the Radisson in the city center a little after 3pm.  I showered . . . and then walked to the nearest laundromat.  I will explore tomorrow.  This is my splurge city, the emotional halfway point on this journey.  I will have to check my numbers to see if it is also the physical halfway point.

Monday, July 20, 2020 -- 11,257km cum / 127 km day

It is pouring rain at the Little Yellowstone campground west of Ederlin, ND.  Thankfully, I had enough time before the rain started to set up the tent in a picnic pavilion under a roof. 

Downtown Fargo

I fell in love with Fargo on my rest day.  Broadway and the downtown area remind me of Georgetown, DC, or Takoma Park, MD.   I had breakfast both mornings at a Jewish deli where on Sunday I met two young women speaking Russian at the table next to me.  The train station has been beautifully restored and turned into a bike store!  All my preconceived stereotyped notions of Fargo were blown away. 

Today's ride was the easiest I have had on this trip and perhaps ever.  North Dakota west of Fargo is so flat that it makes Michigan seem downright mountainous by comparison.  Moreover, an unexpected tailwind pushed me along for the first several hours.  My speed almost never dropped below 24km/hr and for long stretches reached 28-32km/hr.  I sat bolt upright on Woodswoman II to catch the wind and use my body as a sail.  If only it could always be like that. 

Tuesday, July 21, 2020 -- 11,356km cum / 99km day

This was a short mileage day by design.  In ND my daily mileage will be dictated by where there is a place to stay as I travel through long, largely unpopulated stretches of farmland and prairie.  Thus today's destination was Gackle.  The next town with lodging of any kind would is another 38 miles down the road.

Lingering over morning coffee

Short as it was, this surprisingly was not an easy day.  It started well enough at the Little Yellowstone campground where I lingered over coffee following a stormy night.  (The storms combined with the weird feeling of being the only person at this campground in the middle of nowhere ensured a fitful night's sleep.)  I got a late start as a result.  Then I stopped for a real breakfast some ten miles or down the road.  In the end I wasn't really underway until after noon, my latest start yet.

Then there were miles and miles of roadwork that covered my legs with oil and tar that I haven't been able to scrub off completely.  Woodswoman looks no better.  I took a rest break after the roadwork only to find, as I started off again, that I had a flat in my rear tire.  That's my first flat in, I think, two years.  More time went into patching the inner tube.

As I entered Gackle, I started looking for a convenience store.  Everything seemed closed.  I saw a couple out walking, and they confirmed that the town rolls up the sidewalk before sunset.  Even the town bar had closed due to Covid exposure.  Despair and hunger descended as my dilemma in the Adirondacks last year seemed to be repeating itself.

Thankfully, this couple was Jason and Ginny.  They have carved out a portion of their basement as The Honey Hub of Gackle, a hostel-like, donate-what-you-will lodging for bike-packers.  They directed me there, and Ginny threw a frozen pizza in the oven for me as I scrubbed in the shower.  All in all, this was a not-easy day that ended well.

Wednesday, July 22, 2020 -- 11,470km cum / 114km day

The Wetlands of North Dakota

This proved to be a good 70 mile day from Gackle to Hazelton where I'm already set up, showered, and about to enjoy a cheeseburger and chocolate malt at the Road Hawg Grille next to the city campground.  It's been a good day with the wind more a help than a hindrance and country that looks so much like Kazakhstan.  I felt at home, even nostalgic.

I took a snack break at a convenience store in Napoleon where Joyce, the woman on duty at the counter, gave me her own stool so I could sit while enjoying my egg salad sandwich and fries.  This is good country with good people on a good day.

Thursday, July 23, 2020 -- 11,549km cum / 79km day

A short day by design as I rolled into Bismarck.  I actually feel guilty about taking another rest day only four days after leaving Fargo, but oh well, this is going to be my last official city for some time.  I keep reminding myself that in no way is this summer's journey a race.  It's supposed to be fun.

Once again I am at a Radisson, but the $55/night pricetag should have told me that Bismarck is not Fargo.  The city center feels dead, abandoned, a ghost of what may have been better times.  Still, a day of rest will be to the good.  The same goes for sampling a local craft beer.

Saturday, July 25, 2020 -- 11,651km cum / 102km day

The long flats with tailwind are over.  It's not exactly hilly west of Bismarck, but the terrain is strongly undulating with an inexorable upward slant.  Still, this was a good day.

Glenn Ullin Bike-Packing Collective

I'm at the city campground in Glen Ullin, sharing an indoor pavilion with a group of five cyclists (four women and one man) who are going east.  Later, another eastbound couple showed up.  It's a veritable bike-packer convention, the largest group I've been with this year or last.

Sunday, July 26, 2020 -- 11,737km cum / 86km day

By design this was another short day to Dickinson, ND, and a cheap motel night.  Thanks to the disciplined, early-start example of my companions from last night, I too got an early start at 8:30am.  The first half of the day was easy, but the second half was hillier with a crosswind that was more headwind than tailwind.  Still, I arrived in Dickinson by 1pm, helped in this early arrival by having crossed into the Mountain Time zone. With arrival in Dickinson, I completed Northern Tier Section 4.  Three sections and some 1450 or so miles remain.

Monday, July 27, 2020 -- 11,808km cum / 71km day

This was yet another short day by design so that I could visit at the Painted Canyon in Theodore Roosevelt National Park.  And I did!  I took time to hike down into the canyon and back up.  For a North-easterner like me, the Badlands are breathtaking.  The only thing I have experienced like it before was the Ustyurt Preserve that Marzhan and I visited in western Kazakhstan in 2017.  

I saw many prairie dogs today but so far no buffalo.  The prairie dogs found me amusing.  They seemed to be laughing at me as I passed them to the side of the highway on Woodswoman II. The riding is getting more challenging.  The terrain continues to undulate with an upward trend, and the wind has turned firmly against me.  Moreover, there is no shade to be found.  Even with a temperature of 28-30C, riding under this sun is oppressive. I'm camped in the tourist town of Medora, where I made friends with my campground neighbors Harley, Dia, and their daughter Morgan.  They are from Vermont and are car-camping to as many national parks as they can this summer.

Tuesday, July 28, 2020 -- 11,914km cum / 106 km day

I'm in Montana!  The 65-mile day was easier than I expected.  The undulating rise of the past several days ended after the Badlands.  It feels as though I am on a plateau.  Also, the wind changed direction again and is more at my back than in my face.  On the negative side, there is almost no shade.  I will be trying for earlier starts to beat the worst of the heat.  My companions from Glen Ullin warned me that heat was their greatest obstacle in eastern Montana.

At $45, I could not pass up a motel in Glendive.

Wednesday, July 29, 2020 -- 12,002km cum / 88km day

This was a short day but a tough one in several ways.  The road from Glendive to Circle seemed flat but was actually sloped upward for 75% of the way with me going only 18-20km/hr.  Slow.  What a contrast to yesterday.

Then there was the landscape, desolate and uninteresting, and also the heat.  It was 90F before I finished despite an early start.

Finally and most worrisome, I now have a major technical issue.  In the morning I realized my rear tire was soft.  Not wanting to deal with it then, I just pumped it up.  I had to pump it again at about the halfway point.

Shades of Psycho in Circle?

With all of that, I abandoned the idea of camping and took a room in Circle at a motel that looks like something out of the movie Psycho.  I took off the rear wheel and discovered it was a small thorn that had caused the slow leak.

The thorn, however, was not the real issue.  The problem is that the tire is just worn out.  I should have replaced it before I ever left Maine.  I know better.  The tire wall itself is beginning to separate, and that's how the thorn got through the usually impenetrable Panaracer Pasela tire.  The timing could not be worse.  I'm in the middle of nowhere in Montana.

God bless Will at Rivendell Bicycles.  He is express shipping a new tire from California to Glasgow, where I will stay with a WarmShower host two days from now.  My fingers are crossed that the old tire will hold together the 100 miles from here to there.

Thursday, July 30, 2020 -- 12,092km cum / 90km day

Today's was a much prettier and easier ride from Circle to Wolf Point.  Got an early 8am start to beat the heat.  (I should start even earlier if possible.)  I rolled into Wolf Pt. at 1pm after a 55 mile ride.  At the halfway point I met Mark, a bike-packer on his way to Bar Harbor.

Community bike shop in Wolf Point

Most importantly, the rear tire held.  Ironically, it turns out Wolf Pt. has an excellent community bike shop.  Checking my phone after arriving in WP, I saw I had a text message from the shop's manager Greg in response to a number of phone calls I had made yesterday.  The shop is all of a 5-min walk from the Homestead Inn where I'm staying.  I just spent an hour with Greg, a retired Lutheran minister.  He and his wife are world bike-packers like my Virginia friends Ron and Ellen.  I wished I had reached him yesterday.  If I had, I could have gotten the new tire right here rather than calling Rivendell to the rescue.  It's a mystery why the Adventure Cycling maps do not list Greg's shop.

Friday, July 31, 2020 -- 12,182km cum / 90km day

I got drenched in quite a thunderstorm just ten miles out of Wolf Pt. . . . at 9am.  I had thought eastern Montana would be semi-arid.  Instead, so far it's been hot and humid with storms.  It's like the mid-Atlantic minus hills and scenery.  The landscape here is monotonous, desolate, almost depressing.  This is my least favorite part ot the trip to date.

On a positive note, in Glasgow I have a wonderful WarmShowers host in Madelyn.  I have a separate, beautiful bedroom with my own shower in her finished basement.  I scarcely want to leave even if Glasgow prides itself on being Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere.I also have good news in that the new tire arrived less than an hour after I did.  It's already mounted on the rim . . . just in time as I found I had another slow leak in the old rear tire.  Will at Rivendell is amazing.

Saturday, August 1, 2020 -- 12,304km cum / 122km day

I'm starting to think of Montana as Jekyll and Hyde.  I alternate between bad and good days.  Today was a good one. It didn't start out that way.  Getting ready to set out from Madelyn's, I discovered my front tire was soft.  I found the leak and patched it, but I couldn't find the cause.  By the time I reached the Glasgow McDonald's for an outdoor breakfast, it was soft again.  This time I replaced the inner tube, in the process seeing that on the inside the tire was not in as good condition as I thought.  I never should have left Maine with those tires. 

But it wasn't over yet.  I rolled forward noticing a 1-rpm kerplunk.  I went on for 10 miles like that before stopping to take a real look.  To my horror I saw that about 2" of the tire bead was off the rim.  How the tire did not blow out during those 10 miles is beyond me.  I deflated the tire, seated it properly, re-inflated, and continued on my way.

By now I was completely rattled.  A few miles later I stopped at a roadside rest area and called Greg at the community bike shop back in Wolf Pt.  He drove 125 miles from Wolf Pt. to Malta to bring me a new tire.  Incredible.  He is my guardian angel in Montana.  It is kindness like this that gives me hope for the future in this nation of ours.

Time for ice cream in Hinsdale

As to the ride, it was more scenic than yesterday's, and I had a tailwind most of the way.  Following Madelyn's suggestion, I stopped in Hinsdale at a delightful ice cream parlor.  On a rise just before Malta, I caught my first distant glimpse of the mountains to come.

I'll stay in Malta tomorrow for a rest day.  It's been an eventful week since my last rest in Bismarck. 

Monday, August 3, 2020 -- 12,423km cum / 119km day

What a Jekyll/Hyde day this has been.  It started well enough with a tailwind stronger than any since I left Fargo.  I reached Harlem, my original 50-mile goal for the day, before noon.  (Along the way I met a dad and his two sons riding into my tailwind, their headwind, biking east to Maine.)  It being so early, I decided to keep going.

Waiting out the storm in Zurich

Soon the sky darkened.  Before long I saw I was headed toward bright fork lightning.  Fortunately, I was just coming to Zurich as torrential rain and strong winds broke over me.  I pulled into the town and found shelter at the entrance to the Zurich elementary school.  I stayed for well over an hour, reading and using the school's WiFi until the storm passed.

I continued on to Chinook.  I had heard stories from other cyclists about 10+ miles of roadwork between Chinook and Havre.  Some, I had heard, had thrown in the towel and accepted rides through the work zone.  I soon had to do the same.  Roadwork is an understatement for what lay beyond Chinook.  It was 10+ miles of dirt road, mud, and deep potholes that reminded me of roads outside the capital in Kazakhstan.  I found it impossible to ride on without risking damage to Woodswoman.  I started walking.  It wasn't long before a passing van slowed.  The passenger window rolled down, and the father and son pair inside asked if I wanted help.  I willingly agreed.

Woodswoman gets a lift

Jack, the father, is a geophysicist, and his college-age son Jake is working with him for the summer.  They are both bicyclists, and Jack himself rode cross-country some 40 years ago.  They delivered me all the way to the Quality Inn in Havre just as the clouds opened and the sun reappeared.

What a day . . . a day saved by geophysicist Jack and his son Jake.  Once again, Montana provided guardian angels to see me safely on my way. 

Tuesday, August 4, 2020 -- 12,525km cum / 102km day

This was a solid 60 mile day from Havre to Chester in the Sweet Grass Hills.  The upward trend continued with no tailwind to propel me forward.  Neither, however, did storms or roadwork obstruct my way.  It was a good day.

I pulled into Chester at 3pm intent on camping.  Alas, my one-woman campaign to support the Montana motel industry continues.  When I went to the city park, I found locked toilets and no water.  I called the office responsible for the park and learned that the town had locked the toilets and turned off the water because it does not have staff to sanitize under Covid conditions.  The woman I spoke with said I could still camp there . . . without water and toilets.  That was a deal breaker for me.  I took a room at a motel in the center of town.  I have now stayed at more motels in Montana than in all previous states combined.

Wednesday, August 5, 2020 -- 12,639km cum / 114 km day

At last I'm ready to leave behind Montana's Hi Line with its seemingly endless prairie.  After a 70-mile ride from Chester, I have arrived in Cut Bank with signs informing me this is "Where the Rockies Meet the Prairie."  I got an early start on this day that was more up than down with a wind that neither helped nor impeded.  By afternoon, however, the heat was intense.  How I look forward to seeing trees and shade again in the coming days.

I'm at the Super 8 in Cut Bank, thereby completing my unbroken string of motel nights on the Hi Line.  I suspect (and hope!) this is my last motel night for some time.

My lower left cheek has been swollen and itchy since late yesterday.  What could have bitten me?  On a positive note, I have had no trouble with my left ankle since my saddle adjustments all the way back in Wisconsin.

Thursday, August 6, 2020 -- 12,738km cum / 99km day

I'm in the mountains at last and have reached the Continental Divide!  Tonight I am camped at the USFS campground at Marias Pass where the camp host Evie has fed me and told me to set up my tent cost-free next to her RV.

I can't say it was an easy 60 mile day.  In fact, it was my hardest cycling day yet.  It wasn't the elevation gain on the climb to Marias Pass.  Rather, it was the strong, very strong heawind.  I had to get off Woodswoman II several times and walk even on flat terrain.  The wind was that strong.

Definitely cooler on the Continental Divide!

Today was the 60th wedding anniversary for my sister and her husband.  Incredible.  I was able to call and congratulate them as I passed through East Glacier.  Good thing I called from there.  There's no service at all on the Continental Divide.

Friday, August 7, 2020 -- 12,822km cum / 84km day

I've made it to Glacier National Park (GNP), my hoped-for prize gem for this trip.  I can't say that getting here was easy.  It decidedly was not.  The trip to West Glacier from Marias Pass was almost entirely downhill, steeply so for the first 15+ miles.  The previous day's headwind continued, however, and had grown even stronger after overnight storms.  I had to pedal to go downhill as the wind tried to blow me back up and over the Continental Divide.  I shudder to think what the day would have been like if there had been significant uphill.

Today's motorized traffic on US 2 was one for the record books that made even this effective cycling League (of American Bicyclists) Certified Instructor uneasy.  There is little real shoulder on this portion of US 2, and the speed limit is 70mph.  I was in the traffic lane for much of the distance with RVs and trucks screaming past me, frequently veering into the oncoming traffic lane to pass rather than slowing until it was safe.  Blaring horns were the order of the day.  I held the handlebars in a death grip and have bruises on the palms of my hands to prove it.  I was worn out by the time I reached West Glacier after all of a 50 mile, largely downhill ride.

Along the way I had a respite at the Itzhak Walton Inn in Essex.  How lovely it was to sit in this historic inn and enjoy crab cakes and a bowl of clam chowder before heading out again onto a road ruled this day by RVs.

Bike-packer camping at Fish Creek

GNP's Fish Creek Campground raised my spirits at the end of the day.  I am at a group bicyclist site together with a dozen other cyclists, all of them my son's age or younger.  One of them, Leandro, is an environmentalist from Brazil who just received his Ph.D. from the University of Utah.  We sat up together late into the evening. 

Sunday, August 9, 2020 -- 12,933km cum / 111 km day

I didn't expect to, but I made it all the way up the Road to the Sun to Logan Pass!  At over 6200 feet, it's the highest I have ever climbed on a bicycle.

Sunrise over Lake McDonald at Apgar Junction

I left the campground at 6:15am and ate breakfast at a picnic table while watching the sun come up at Apgar Junction.  Bicyclists must reach Logan by 11am or be turned back by rangers who start sweeping down from Logan at 10:30 or so.  (Perversely, bicycles are prohibited from climbing the Road to the Sun after 11am.)  When I started, I thought I would just make it to The Tunnel, but I made it there in plenty of time and kept going.  Scarcely looking at the view, I concentrated on turning the cranks in my highest gear, trying not to think how much further I had to go.  With twenty minutes to spare, I turned into the visitors' center at Logan Pass at 10:40am.

My companions at Fish Creek had warned me it would be cooler, even cold at Logan Pass.  I had brought a jacket and winter tights with me, but it never occurred to me that the clothes I wore during the climb would be soaked with sweat through and through.  I needed to dry them out somehow.  So it was that I found a restroom where I could take them off, dry myself, and put on my jacket and tights . . . over nothing but my bare skin.  I draped my wet jersey, bra, and shorts over Woodswoman II, using her as a drying rack under what was, thankfully, a clear and bright sun.  For the next two hours I enjoyed snacking, taking a short day hike, and enjoying the spectacular views while waiting for my clothes to dry.  GNP lived up to all my hopes and expectations.  From my prior experience the only place that comes close are the Tien Shan Mountains above Almaty, Kazakhstan.

How far and what gradient I had climbed to get to Logan Pass was something I understood only on the descent.  What kept going through my head was, "What, I climbed this?"  I stopped frequently to enjoy the views I had missed on the climb, focused as I had been on just keeping going.  When I got to Apgar Junction, I celebrated with a restaurant dinner, my first in many weeks.  When I reached Fish Creek, I found I was now the experienced climber who was able to tell the new arrivals what to expect when climbing Logan.

This is a night when I know I will sleep soundly with memories of a day that will last a lifetime.  How glad I am that Lily talked me into doing the cross-country trip when we had that breakfast in Brunswick, ME, two months ago!

Monday, August 10, 2020 -- 12,988km cum / 55km day

This was a short day by design, not even 40 miles, to Whitefish.  I will be spending the night at The Bicyclist's Retreat recommended to me by my new Brazilian environmentalist friend Leandro.  After four nights of primitive camping, I very much need a clean-up night to shower and do laundry.  In short, I need to feel human again!

I detected something not quite right, something loose in the front of Woodswoman II.  I thought it might be the headset, but I couldn't be sure.  I stopped at Glacier Cyclery in Whitefish.  It turned out that my sealed, supposedly indestructible Phil Wood hum had lost some of its bearings.  How that could have happened is beyond me.  Fortunately, the mechanics at Glacier Cyclery were able to fix it for me on the spot.

Tuesday, August 11, 2020 -- 13,071km cum / 83km day

With Leandro at the Whitefish Bicycle Retreat

Today's was an easy 50 mile ride from the Whitefish Bicycle Retreat to Eureka even if much of the ride was on 70mph, no-shoulder US 93.  I got a late 11am start after hanging around with Leandro at the retreat.  I spent a wonderful night with conversation, a shower, and a chance to wash ever item of clothing I have with me.

Another cheap motel is tonight's lodging in Eureka.  Looking ahead, I believe the next two nights will be primitive camping.

I spent much of the evening buying my Amtrak tickets for the trip back east.  The end isn't tomorrow, but is appearing on the horizon. 

Wednesday, August 12, 2020 -- 13,163km cum / 92km day

Thursday, August 13, 2020 -- 13,276km cum / 113km day

Friday, August 14, 2020 -- 13,352km cum / 76km day

On the road by Lake Koocanusa

Wednesday's ride was unexpectedly tough.  The wind was strongly against me, and the terrain along Lake Koocanusa was hilly.  The sky was overcast.  Taken together, the day was not the bright scenic one I had hoped for.

Worst of all, I got a flat in my brand new rear tire.  I patched the inner tube but could not find what had caused the flat.  Sure enough, the tire was flat again after only 2-3 miles.  This time I found the culprit, a small piece of wire that I removed with my eyebrow tweezers.  I hate Continental tires.  They are too expensive and prone to flats.  I have never had good luck with them.  I wish Will at Rivendell had been able to send something other than Continental.

Aria outside Glenda's bus

I was in tears when the tire flatted the second time.  The day had become the worst I have had on this trip.  Glenda and her dog Aria turned it around into one of the best.  When I entered the Corps of Engineering campground south of the Koocanusa Dam, I saw Glenda outside her school bus van.  I asked her about the campground.  The next thing I knew, I was setting up my tent next to her bus.  I spent most of the evening with Glenda, accepting hot water and cloths from her and eating my dinner as she told me about her travels with Aria.  In the morning she made breakfast.  Glenda saved my Wednesday for me.

Overflow camping again!

Thursday was my biggest mileage day in the Rockies.  I pushed hard, stopping only to do some laundry and get food in Libby.  Thankfully, the last 10-15 miles were downhill as I began my descent out of the mountains.  I spent the night at an overflow spot at the USFS campground near the outlet of Bull River.

Today was my reward for the previous two.  The terrain was mildly rolling without a breath of wind.  I crossed into Idaho, the mountains definitely to my rear.  Much of the 45 mile ride was around Lake Pend Oreille.  I crossed into the Pacific Time zone.

I am checked into the Days Inn in Ponderay for two nights.  Saturday will be a rest day as I note one of the two days I consider to be birthdays.  Northern Tier Section 2 is complete.  Just one section and about 460 miles remain.

Sunday, August 16, 2020 -- 13,468km cum / 116km day

Lake Pend Oreille

I enjoyed a good rest day in Sandpoint on a day that was also what one friend has dubbed my bio-birthday.  When I mentioned I wanted to live it up with my first steak in years at the Panhandler Restaurant, my waitress told me the dinner would be free!  It's the restaurant policy.  (I did leave a good tip.)

I returned to the road today.  Some 70+ miles took me across the state line into Washington and onward to a USFS campground in Panhandle Park on the Pend Oreille River.  This was my last day of respite, my last day without significant climbs.  Tomorrow I hit the hills again . . . this time the Cascades.

Monday, August 17, 2020 -- 13,567km cum / 99 km day

The first warm-up hill is behind me on this 60 mile day, but the real story is the heat.  It was the hottest day yet on this trip, and by 3pm I understood there was no way I would be camping.  I found a cheap motel in Colville, WA.  As I rolled into town, a bank sign trumpeted 103F.  I believe it.  I've already made a motel reservation for tomorrow in Republic.

Tomorrow will be my the hardest biking day yet:  Sherman Pass with a 4000 foot elevation gain over 24 miles.  Yikes!

Tuesday, August 18, 2020 -- 13,663km cum / 94km day

The day was tough indeed.  The climb that began after I crossed the Columbia River started well enough.  For long stretches I was maintaining 16km/hr.  The final 8km to the pass at 5575' were a different matter.  The steady but gradual climb turned into something much steeper after I had already expended most of my climbing energy.  I ended up pushing Woodswoman II up much of those 8km.  An intermittent drizzle mocked my hubris in having thought Sherman would be nothing after I had climbed Logan in GNP.

I rested at the top at the It's All Downhill from Here sign.  A couple pulled into the rest area in their RV.  Tina and Rick treated me to iced coffee, ice, an apple, and a chocolate bar.  I needed the ice.  I had drunk all but one bottle of water on the way up.  I made lunch from that apple and a bagel I had carried with me from Colville.

The downhill ride was a welcome breeze.  I stopped at one view spot not far from the top, but otherwise I kept going.  I didn't encounter an uphill until just before Republic, where I'm now checked into my cheap motel for the night.  I'll likely continue with the motels as long as the heat and mountain passes continue.  Three high passes stand between me and Puget Sound.

Wednesday, August 19, 2020 -- 13,779km cum / 116km day

This has been a long, tough, grueling, sweltering day.  It got off on the wrong foot when I took the wrong road out of Republic.  I didn't realize my mistake at first, so focused as I was on getting up a series of hills.  It was only when the road leveled out that I realized something wasn't right.  There was no traffic.  The road surface didn't seem to be that of a state road, and my shadow was pointing the wrong way.  I was going more north than west.  The one driver I tried to flag down just waved and kept going.  I had to grimace and resort to Google Maps and GPS to figure out where I had gone wrong.  Fortunately, I was able to chart a path back to SR 20 that added only 5 miles to my day.

Back on SR 20, I began the climb to Wauconda Pass.  The climb proved much easier than Sherman Pass, but I was already running late and not in the best mood.  Still, I reached the pass before noon.  Unlike Sherman, there isn't much to see from Wauconda Pass.  I kept going another five miles to Wauconda village, where I ate lunch sitting where the pumps used to be at an abandoned gas station.

Arid view from Tonasket

The worst, however, was yet to come.  The road to Tonasket was largely downhill but heavily trafficked with no real shoulder.  As I dropped down from the pass, it became hot, very hot, certainly upper 90s if not above 100F.  The mountains here are largely bare with sagebrush instead of trees.  I felt I had taken a wrong turn and landed in Arizona or Tajikistan.  When I got to Tonasket, I ingaled ice water and Mountain Dew.

A bicycle wind vane!

My day was not over.  A stiff headwind turned the 25 miles from Tonasket to Omak into a hard slog.  I stopped in Riverside for more ice water and Mountain Dew.  While sitting on a bench in front of the general store, I conversed with Paul, a local minister, and found strength to smile at a bicycle wind vane.  When the wind blew, the cyclist on the wind vane would crank his pedals.

I rolled into Omak with 70+ miles showing on the odometer.  When I checked in at the Rodeway Inn, I asked for two nights instead of one.  Omak is not the place I would have chosen for a rest stop, but my body made the choice for me.  It was clear I need a full day off.

205 miles and two mountain passes remain before my journey's end in Anacortes, WA.  So close but yet so far.

Friday, August 21, 2020 -- 13,861km cum / 82km day

This was a much, much better day,  I needed the rest in Omak.  Other than getting food (and a milkshake!), I spent all my time in the motel room with the air conditioner turned up high.  Much of the time I lay in bed with either music or news playing softly in the background.  In the evening I turned up the volume to listen and watch Joe Biden's acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention.  It was the strong, inspiring speech we need for these troubled times.

Coastal Cascades in the distance

The start of the ride out of Omak was as arid and trending hot as was the ride in, but thankfully I got an early start before the heat had become intense.  The air cooled as I worked my way up to Loup Loup Pass.  There were more trees and shade.  At the top I ate lunch at a closed USFS campground.  Coming down the other side, I could see the coastal Cascades, the real Cascades, for the first time.  The mountains are tall, some with snow cover, and as breathtaking as I remember the Tian Shen in Kazakhstan.

Whitney

The valley below Loup Loup is also arid and hot but not to the degree of the Omak valley.  I checked into a private campground in Whitney before 3pm.  I'm already showered and set up with the laundry done.  I'm about to walk into town in search of dinner.  Whitney is a tourist, Wild West sort of town, but it looks like fun.

160 miles and one pass to go.

Saturday, August 22, 2020 -- 13,904km cum / 43km day

View from Lone Pine Campground

This was a short day by design, all of 25 miles to the Lone Pine USFS campground about halfway up the slope to Washington Pass.  This is my divide and conquer strategy for the last climb of my journey; I'm doing half of the climb today and the rest tomorrow.  With only 135 miles to go, there is no reason to push hard.  Moreover, I want to have time tomorrow actually to appreciate North Cascades National Park.

I'm camped next to camp hosts Peggy and John at an unofficial overflow site.  How is it that I always end up at the most popular locations and weekends?  I spent a pleasant evening chatting with Peggy and John.  It turns out they are transplants to Washington who moved out here several decades ago from New York.  We have many overlapping memories of the New York City area.  They were incredulous when I told them the Tappan Zee Bridge had been demolished to make way for a replacement.

As I climbed today and as I now drift off to sleep, I'm listening again and again to Lord of the Mountain Roads (Господин горных дорог) by Natalya O'Shea and the Russian group Мельница (Windmill).  It is the perfect accompaniment to this last leg of my mountain journey.

Sunday, August 23, 2020 -- 13,988km cum / 84km day

Today brought back memories of my descent from Marias Pass with traffic that was bad and downright scary.  On the way down from Rainy Pass, SR 20 was closed at one point due to an accident.  Traffic was backed up for 3+ miles with motorists sitting in their lawn chairs on the shoulder.  The police allowed me to walk through the accident scene and continue.  A motorcyclist had been killed by an RV, not the type of accident to increase my confidence as a bicyclist.  It seems the motorcyclist had been going too fast on the descent, lost control, and crossed into the oncoming lane to collide with the oncoming RV.  I learned also that a van had flipped over on this portion of SR 20 yesterday, again shutting down the road for hours.  It is beyond my comprehension why narrow mountain roads such as SR 20 in the western states have speed limits of 60mph and sometimes higher.  In my opinion as a cyclist and an easterner, the speed limits on these roads should be 25-30mph with traffic calming measures.  After all, the speed limit on Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park is 25mph.

Washington Pass

Despite the scary descent, the views on the climb to Washington Pass were breathtaking, not quite at the level of GNP but close.  I am camped for the night at a National Park Service campground outside Newhalem.  When a ranger came by my hiker/biker site, I asked how much I needed to pay for the night.  I was surprised by the answer.  It turns out that due to Covid, camping in North Cascades National Park is free this summer.

With my last mountain pass behind me, my climbing days are over.

Monday, August 24, 2020 -- 14,063km cum / 75km day

Two months to the day after I left Marine City, MI, my journey is drawing to a close.  I am at Rosar State Park near Hamilton, WA, after an easy 45 mile day.

To my own surprise, this will be my last camping night.  I had thought I would camp in Anacortes, but it seems none of the campgrounds there have showers or laundry, both of which I need after four camping nights, three of them primitive with bathing limited to wipes and a wet cloth.  As problematic as camping can be, I enjoy it after a fashion.  It's where I meet the most interesting people and have the most memorable experiences.  I am nostalgic and even a bit sad that this part of the journey is ending.

Tuesday, August 25, 2020 -- 14,149km cum / 86km day

I'm done!  I arrived in Anacortes a bit after 3pm and made my way to the ferry terminal, the end of the Northern Tier.  I found a foot path down to the water and asked a may sitting on a log with a book to take the requisite photo with Woodswoman II's front wheel dipped in the water.  5490km (3411 miles) after leaving Marine City on June 24, I am done.

The reality has yet to sink in.  I'm too tired for that.  For this evening I am happy just to be in my motel, all showered, fresh, and ready to eat dinner.  I am done.

Thursday, August 27, 2020 -- 14,225km cum / 76km day

This was my fun ride day of taking Woodswoman II sans weight by ferry to Lopez Island.  I thought I was just going for a ferry trip and a short ride, but I ended up riding 40+ miles.  It felt so good to ride with no weight that I just kept going.  It was as though I had sprouted wings.

On Lopez Island

Lopez Island was beautiful with wonderful views of Puget Sound and Mt. Baker in the distance.  On the way over and back from Anacortes, I had good conversations with members of a local bike group.  They seconded the recommendation first given me by Peggy and John a few days ago that I bike down Whidbey Island to get to Everett, the site of the Amtrak station where I will get the Empire Builder for my trip back east. 

Friday, August 28, 2020 -- 14,276km cum / 51km day

This was another short day by design to Fort Ebey State Park on Whidbey Island.  I could have gone further to Ft. Casey Park, but it is fully reserved with no indication of walk-in hiker-biker sites.  I undoubtedly could have talked my way in there as I have done other times on this trip, but tonight I wanted certainty . . . and solitude as journey draws to a close.

This is it, my bonus one night of camping.  I am soaking it into my memory so that it doesn't fade.  It is the last night Woodswoman II will lean against a picnic table as I set up camp for the night.

Saturday, August 29, 2020 -- 14,347km cum / 71km day

Now my trip is truly at its end.  I rolled Woodswoman II into the Travelodge near the Amtrak station in Everett sometime after 3pm.  It's over, and already I am finding that disorientation and loss are mixing with the joy of fulfilling a life dream.

Sunset from Fort Ebey

I must add to Friday's account that after writing I climbed to the Fort Ebey bluffs and lingered there to enjoy spectacular views of Puget Sound and the Pacific beyond.  I returned to the bluffs later to watch the sunset, only the second I have ever seen over the Pacific.  I am so glad that I chose to ride down Whidbey Island rather than follow my original plan of taking an inland route on the mainland.

My last day riding down Whidbey Island to the ferry was pleasant with rolling hills.  I rode in an air of unreality, not really believing this was the final ride of the trip.  At the ferry terminal in Clinton, I met three local cyclists who told me how to ride the final miles from Mukilteo to Everett, and they rode with me at the start to make sure I was going the right way.

By way of update, my total distance since Marine City is now 5688km, some 3534 miles.

Today -- I'm writing on Sunday -- I will attempt to navigate local buses to see my high school friend Mike Korolenko in Issaquah.  It's been seven years since we last saw each other in NYC in 2013.

Monday, August 31, 2020 -- 14,359km cum / 12km day

Woodswoman waits for Wheels Up!

I sit in the Amtrak station in Everett as I wait for the Empire Builder some three hours from now.  Why am I so early?  Answer:  there is nothing to do in Everett.  My motel was in a seedey, perhaps even somewhat dangerous part of town.  The downtown area feels dead.  Almost everything seems closed, perhaps due to Covid but also perhaps because that's the normal state.  Even finding breakfast this morning was not easy.  I took a ride to the waterfront on the other side of town only to find that it does not even rate a photo.  At least I found an Irish pub open on the way back and was able to kill an hour and a half there, drinking an uncharacteristically early IPA at noon.  That is how I have spent my final hours on the ground in WA.  When the Empire Builder arrives, it will be Wheels Up! for me and Woodswoman II.

Sunday was relaxing, even fun as I did navigate the buses through Seattle to spend a few hours with MK.  It was good to see him again after a lapse of seven years.

Today as I wait to board the Empire Builder, I recall another train journey.  It was three years ago today that I yelled Diplomat! and pushed through closing doors at a run with Sultana to board the Astana-Aktau train in Kazakhstan.  It was our last journey together.  Who knows when I will be able to return there?  With borders closed most everywhere to Americans, I fear it will be a long time. . . .

* * * * * * * *

Friday, September 18, 2020 -- 14,612km cum / 253km since Everett, WA / 6919km for the summer

Epilog.  I am in Bangor, ME, after a 50 mile ride from home.  Why am I here?  Answer:  eye doctor appointment.  Why am I here by bicycle?  Answer:  Why not?  It's only 50 miles, a short distance in the context of my summer biking days.  Add to that some nostalgia and even withdrawal as I return to normality, whatever that is in this day of age.  Biking to Bangor and staying at a cheap motel is my way of holding on to this very special summer.

Glen Ullin reunion in Acadia National Park

Driving (!) to Bar Harbor on Monday and spending a day with Bonnie, Mary, Adria, and Todd -- the Glen Ullin collective I camped with in North Dakota -- was also a way of holding on and celebrating a summer experience with others who had shared in that experience.  A celebratory dinner and an after-ride on the carriage roads of Acadia National Park extended this summer of a lifetime just a bit longer.

Tomorrow I leave Woodswoman II at Rose Bicycles in Orono.  She deserves a rest and gentle care after a summer of hard but beautiful riding.  We will see together what the next year brings.