Doggonit, I'm Doing a Full Update

Okay, let's backtrack again. I think I left you last time around Fort Collins, is that right? We'll just assume that it is, cause I'm too lazy to go back and read my old posts. So the day we left Ft. Collins, CO was the day we ended in Stoneham, where I infamously lost my shoe. I think everything that can be said about that has been said, so I'll move on. The next day we rode to Holyoke, CO through some of the worst heat we've experienced to date. My cyclecomputer read as much as 113 degrees F, though of course, that reading is affected by the direct sunlight on the plastic housing. A few miles outside of town it began raining, eventually turning into a torrential downpour. Fortunately, we found a laundromat to shelter us (and do some much-needed cleaning) before the rain got really bad. After the rain let up a little bit we found a campground and that's where I took some photos like this:


The next day we set out for McCook, NE. This was a tough day. Fred had a bunch of flats and I discovered a problem with my chainring that forced to me to ride with essentially just two or three gears until we got to Lincoln several days later. Fred also crashed on an oil slick turning into the town of Palisade, NE, getting some pretty good road rash on his calf and aggravating his broken wrist. The one bright spot of that 102.6 mile day was the American Legion Hall in Palisade. As we rode into the small town we asked a man crossing the street if there was a market in town where we could get some food, and he suggested we come into American Legion where it was air-conditioned. He gave us beer and we chatted with the locals for a bit which helped tremendously, and we flew through the last leg into McCook.

In McCook we found a free city campsite with bathrooms, showers, and electrical outlets. Unfortunately, just as we were about to go to sleep this guy walked unsteadily up to us carrying a huge backpack. He started telling us about how he was hitching across the country to somewhere. It became clear that he was drunk and not really coherent. Once we finally extricated ourselves from the conversation and got into our tents I noticed that he was sitting on a picnic table across the campground, just staring at us and the other people that were camping there (the site was almost full, mostly of people in RV's and on motorcycles). Anyway, I was nervous all night long that he was going to try to steal something and didn't sleep very well. I looked up many times and he was always just sitting on that table in the dark, until very early in the morning when I looked up and saw him lying down under a covered area nearby. When I got up in the morning he was gone, so perhaps my suspicions were unwarranted, but the dude freaked me out nonetheless.

The next day we were supposed to ride to Holdrige, NE. But we only got a few miles east of McCook, just past the small town of Indianola, when the bolt that holds my seat clamp tight broke off as I was attempting to adjust my saddle height. We rode back into Indianola hoping to find a hardware store, but everything was closed for the town's "Old Settler's Day Celebration." We rode into the town park and were practically pounced on by people offering assistance. Two men, Bernie and Travis, spent nearly two hours with us, trying everything they could think of to help fix the problem. Eventually, Travis led us back to his garage where he drilled a new hole in the clamp and poached a quick-release skewer from an old bicycle and got us back on the road. Then, at around the same place on the road that I first broke off that bolt, a woman driving into town stopped, ran across the street, and handed us each a bottle of water, with no explanation other than she thought we could use them. How about that? Nebraska is good people.

Despite that heartwarming experience, we only made it 55 miles, to Arapahoe, NE, by 8pm. An awfully long day for a short distance.

The following day wasn't much better for riding. The heat was hot, to borrow from Neil Young, and we only went another 60 miles to Minden where we stayed in a motel for the first time since Fort Collins.

We got back on track the next day, as the riding was flatter and the air was less humid. We rode 81.6 miles to Fairmont, NE where we camped in a city park next to a swimming pool. Just after dark, a car pulled up near us and a family got out and walked up to where we sitting. The mother was holding a large tupperware container filled with homemade cookies and she told us that she heard there were cyclists camping out for the night. She was expecting a larger group and had made a ton of cookies. I felt bad, I couldn't eat more than three, even though they were really good. So thanks to the Bridges family, you folks made our day. See what I mean about Nebraska people?


After they left we hopped the fence into the pool and cooled off a bit before bed. I think we were punished for that bit of intransigence, when the sprinklers came on at 4am.

The next day we rode a blistering pace of 16.8 mph for the first 50 miles towards Denton, a suburb of Lincoln. We stayed that night and the next at the home of some family friends of Fred's. It was really nice to be in someone's home for a while. We were even given an old truck to drive in to Lincoln to get to a bike shop and to hang out with another of Fred's old friends (he used to live in Lincoln). Here's a shot of my ridiculous rain gear. The brim of the hat was blown upward by the wind, it's not really supposed to look like that.


After our much needed rest day, we rode into Shenendoah, IA, where I finally got to meet Kristan Gray of KMA 960 Radio. She had interviewed me twice before and was so amazingly nice and excited about the ride that I just had to pay her a visit. Minutes after walking in the door she had both Fred and I in a studio booth doing another interview. She talked to us for about 45 minutes or so, about a great many things. That was a really good time, I'm so glad I got to talk to her in person.


The rest of Iowa, however, was not so kind to us. As I've already mentioned, the roads and drivers are, on balance, not cycling friendly. And then there was the problem of the broken hub in Osceola and losing my riding companion the next day, which is not, of course, specifically Iowa's fault, but it's a problem of trends as I see it.

Anyway, I finally made it out of Iowa, crossing the Mississippi River into Illinois. I've enjoyed this state, even though the majority of my riding has been on roads without paved shoulders (like Iowa), because the drivers have not been hassling me (unlike Iowa).

So, finally, we're up to date. 1,608.07 miles over 20 days of riding. I'm more than halfway, with approximately two weeks left to go. Next up, I have to get through Indiana on my way to visit my friend Liz in Cincinnati. I was initially planning on three days between here and there, but that would put me in Cinci a day before Liz gets back from a weekend trip she's taking. So now I think I'll try to break up Indiana into four days, reducing my mileage each day and giving my legs more of a rest. I feel strong, but I can't shake the sensation of a creeping fatigue in my legs. It's a fatigue that I feel mostly off the bike when I'm walking and hasn't seriously effected my pedaling, yet, but I need to keep an eye on it.