Day 14 – June 30, 2008

Leaping onto our trusty steeds, we headed out of Glenrock, Wyoming and made haste for the border; the Nebraska/Wyoming border that is. The early morning hours found us pounding pavement on the interstate for the first 40 miles or so; after which we would depart and continue on our quest along highway 20. The scenery along the route was very similar to yesterdays ride until approximately 60 miles in; at which time the pale yellows and browns were morphed into the green hay fields that populate the landscape of the Midwest. Looking out over the rolling hills of green, with barely a trace of humanity, I found myself thinking back upon my first 20 years of life. I grew up in small town South Dakota, and no matter where I live, it is still home. Overlooking these fields of fertile soil, with old time windmills, faded barns, dust packed gravel roads, and the wide open sky, I couldn’t help but feel at ease. I once again was back home. Whether I will ever actually dwell here again, remains a mystery; but my visits to this area are always cleansing and satisfying. I don’t know what it is, but the smell of fresh cut hay, mixed with the many pollens and aromas that bombard the air, cause a slow smile to creep across my worn out face. And with that smile, the many miles of riding fatigue and muscle soreness drain away; if only for a brief moment. Home, there is no place like it.

We attained our goal today when we coasted to finish 107 miles after beginning today’s task; we had left Wyoming behind us and were firmly on Nebraskan soil. Nebraska, home of the Cornhuskers and now 2 crazy cyclists and their equally insane support driver ; at least for a few days. Seeing the state sign, which Bob got a great shot of us as we pedaled by it, was one of my happier moments on this trip. I don’t know why, but of all the states we have entered, this one has been the most meaningful. Perhaps its because I am now really in the Midwest; a place filled with so many fond and profound memories. Speaking of Bob, I wanted to say that once again I was right. (that’s for you babe) My prediction a couple days ago that Larry was handing us over to Bob’s capable hands has been spot on. He’s done a terrific job of getting into the routine, picking great spots for a brief break, scouting ahead for possible issues, and always being close by should any mishap arrive. Thanks for all the support Bob, this ride would not be happening without you.

The body is continuing to put up with the daily brutish punishment with happy reluctance. My right knee performed marvelously today; I am so proud of the round lil guy! It’s evil twin, however, is continue to refuse to play nice. I even went so far as to threaten her with replacement; but she called my bluff so it looks like I’m stuck with her stubbornness for a few more days.

By the way, we are 1,414 miles in after 14 days of pedal power; which means we have less than 2,200 miles to go! I yearn, daily, for those blue waters of the might Atlantic. That will be a welcome site indeed!

Day 13 – June 29th

Bob, the newest member of our chaotic team, drove us 35 miles east of Riverton, Wyoming (the exact spot where we had stopped yesterday) this morning and kicked us out of the SUV with nothing but our bikes and our ever decreasing ego’s. Before we could get a single pedal revolution completed, Mother Nature sent an emissary our way. Moving with the grace of complete freedom, a buck deer eyed us from a distance of 100 yards. Silhouetted in the early morning sunlight, we could make out his majestic stature as he slowly advanced our way. Soon he had halved the distance and his proud antlers posed over his ever alert ears became visible; antlers shrouded in velvet. His coloring was akin to the gentle brown seen on a young oak sapling. Showing no sign of hesitation or fear, he approached even closer; soon no more than a dozen yards away from our surprised eyes. Watching this silent creature, with horns that could put a hole through my torso, I was momentarily struck with one of the oldest of human emotions; fight or flight. With his weapons attached to his crown, as well as his ever capable hooves, I had no valorous ideas of tangling with this mighty creature; luckily he harbored on such thoughts of heroics either. After checking us over for a few moments, he made his way back into his domain and was soon out of our lives.

The ride today was a modest ride, when considering some of the previous rides we have completed. We ended the day in Glenrock, Wyoming; approximately 109 miles from our point of origin. The view along the right was very similar throughout the entire ride; a mixture of subtle browns, yellows, with the occasional patch of green. Scattered in the foliage, were antelope, deer, and coyotes.

At mile 84 we reached Casper, Wyoming where we rallied with our support expert for a quick bite to eat. After the pit stop to refuel the tank, we left the friendly ghost behind and 25 miles later were pedaling into Glenrock. The hotel we are staying in tonight is an old time beauty. Built in 1916, the Higgins Hotel has an ancient nobility all about it. It’s the type of hotel that you would have expected a President to slumber in during the buildings glory days; such as the old moose Teddy R during his many trips to Yellowstone. The rooms are large, the beds comfortable, and everything in it has an antique story to it. Stepping through the doors, you feel as if you just entered a portal to a time lost in history. Of all the places we have stayed, this historic monument is my favorite. It is gem of a hotel, snugly hidden in the hills of Wyoming.

Before I finish my rambling for yet another day, I wanted to take a moment to answer a question a few people have asked me in regards to this trip. “What do you think about when you are on the bike that long?”

There are a vast amount of thoughts that flicker across my mind while I am in the saddle. Some secure only a second or two of my time, while others may cause me to ponder for long stretches of road. Often I take a few moments to concentrate on my body, and try to see if it is telling me something that I am failing to hear. Is my shoulder getting tight or fatigued, which means I need to change hand positions? Are my thighs and hamstrings unusually tight? I especially pay attention to my calves. Often times my calves are the first to indicate if I’m about to start facing a serious problem. My calves are great indicators if I am getting close to dehydration, or if my sodium and potassium levels are becoming low. I can’t explain the feeling, but am thankful I am able to minimally understand the messages they send.

Other times I reflect on a number of inquiries; religion, politics, economics, Indian reservation law structures etc. I also dwell upon topics that all of us find ourselves thinking about at some point during the day; such as relationships with friends and family. All of these thoughts can cascade through my head in a matter of minutes. The oddest questions can also appear; what would it be like to be a cattle rancher? What would I have done had I tried crossing this land in a covered wagon 150 years ago and I blew an axle or my oxen perished? Why did the Sand Creek Massacre occur? (I saw a sign today directing to the site of the massacre.) As you can see, a number of random thoughts can spontaneously appear, and disappear, quickly.

Yet, there are times that cycling is almost meditative. I cease to think and experience only the joy of being alive and moving under my own power. I am sure that many athletes can attest to such a clear and clean sense of release that occurs during their sport of choice. I can’t entirely explain it, but I am thankful for it. So I guess there is no one clear cut answer to that question, for my solution to it changes every time I climb into the saddle.

Day 12 – June 28th

Wow, it is hard to fathom the fact that this is the 12th day in the saddle. I don’t believe I can honestly afford to truly reflect upon what the last 11 days have all entailed or of what remains to be accomplished; if I did the daunting truth may overwhelm me. Therefore, each day is viewed as a new challenge and a new adventure. The former days are past, and the ones yet to come are just that, yet to come. All I can focus on is getting back in the saddle and completing today’s ride; one pedal stroke at a time. Everything else is just details.

Today the ride started in Dubois, Wyoming and would end approximately 35 miles east of Riverton, Wyoming. The original plan for today consisted of a 79 mile ride to Riverton, where we will be spending the evening; but since we had scheduled a 149 mile ride for the following day, we realized we couldn’t afford the luxury of doing only 79 miles. We ended today’s ride with just over 113 miles; which means we pedal approximately the same distance tomorrow as well. Not bad, all things considered.

The first 50 miles today went by quickly, but I was struggling in the saddle. Not from muscle fatigue, soreness, or overtaxed knees; but instead from sleep deprivation. I am not sure why, as I got a decent amount of sleep last night, but the first couple of hours all I could effectively do was yawn. Finally, when we stopped for a quick bite at mile 50 (while we ate we overlooked a manikin-still lake, which was surrounded by the arid plains of Wyoming and thousands of patches of earthen colored sagebrush, yellowish-green cacti, and of course the sandy like soil that dominates the landscape) I began to awaken. During the remaining 63 miles I was able to get my system jump started and was eventually content with my body’s performance.

At one point during the first portion of the ride, I was struck with the wildness that Wyoming possesses. A fox took time from it’s sly morning escapades to briefly grace us with its presence, as did multiple mule deer, an arrogant prairie dog that wasn’t about to surrender its hard earned shoulder of highway to two uninvited cyclists, and a pose-struck antelope. All of these creatures moved with the grace that only the wild can instill in them, and I feel lucky that my morning routine briefly encountered thiers. At another point during the ride I was reminded of the jade oceans of Belize. A small lake, situated a few hundred yards off the highway, sparkled a brilliant turquoise color in the early morning sunlight. I cannot even fathom what algae or mineral created the cacophony of brilliant blue it contained, but I drew in its beauty until it was no longer in sight. I am convinced now, more than ever, that beauty can be found anywhere and everywhere; as long you take the time to appreciate it. What a trip of the senses this bike ride is turning out to be. Thank you again Gary for letting me tag along.

We concluded the trip with the newest member of our team today; Bob Loch. Bob met Gary, Larry, and I out in the vastness that is Wyoming at our 113 mile mark for the day; the mark that signaled we were done spinning our legs for one more day. He took part in our traditional beverage and then we headed into town where Larry, our support guru up to this point, instructed Bob on some tricks of the support trade. Larry will be leaving us for 8 days beginning tomorrow; but I feel we are being handed from one master of cycling to another. Knowing Bob, Gary and I will remain in great hands.

Larry, thank you again for all your brilliant support, assistance, and encouragement these last 12 days; it has been the utmost appreciated. I am looking forward to seeing you again in just over a week; best of luck in south Texas.

Bob, I want to also thank you for taking the time out of your life to put up with two worn out cyclists as we continue in our quest for the tomb of Atlantis; the brilliant Atlantic Ocean. I know you will be a huge asset to have along over the course of the next week, and without the help of you and Larry this ride never would have happened. Thank you and welcome aboard!

Day 11 - June 27th

The alarm went off at 5:45 and I was on the road and spinning by 7:10 am. I was quickly cooled by the 50 degree weather as I rolled out of Jackson Hole, Wyoming and headed toward Dubois, Wyoming; 88 miles away. When I awoke this morning, I was surprised to realize the temperature outside was a chilly 47 degrees. Since the goal today was to climb to over 9,600 feet elevation and cross the Continental Divide, I figured it would be a good day to throw on some winter gear. I was glad for that decision when I started out into the early morning air. Making my way out of town, I was once again enveloped by the scenery. Off to my left mountains jutted out of the ground with violent force, hurling themselves skyward with omniscient strength. They were a dark grey hue, jagged faced, and topped with snow that was constantly being blown off the peaks by violent gales. It was majestic to watch the snow swirl off the summits and hang suspended in time. At times the mountains looked so close that I thought I may be able to reach out and touch them. The sky was also abuzz with people; there were hot air balloons making their way over the spine of the world, and leer jets landing at the local airport; the wealthy arriving to play in God’s playground for the weekend. At one point I crossed over a mountain stream and discovered myself awash in blossoming flowers; the aroma was intoxicating and brought a broad, serene smile to my wind-burned face. It is moments like this that make this bike ride so worthwhile; some sights and smells you just can not experience from a car.

The first 40 miles of the ride were fairly easy, but the scenery is so picturesque that is simply beyond words. I beg of you to check out the photos that Larry snapped today, as they at least give a hint of the beauty this land possesses. At mile 40 of today’s ride we began a 17 mile ascent. The grade going up wasn’t too bad, I believe it may have hit 6 percent a couple of times, and the miles went by fairly quickly. Gary and I separated early in the climb and Mr. Hart once again delivered his Tour like support to both of us. It is such a treat to be able to do long climbs and not have to worry about being loaded down with food or fluids, as Larry is always close by to provide his fleet footed support. I don’t think he realizes how much it helps to not have to stop the bike to restock on supplies, thus letting our legs keep moving and stay fresh. I felt great in the saddle all the way up, the legs were solid, and I was really looking forward to reaching this particular summit. My only real worry during the climb was the possible adverse effects that the altitude may have upon me. Since oxygen becomes less prevalent in the air as you ascend, I was afraid that I may find myself short of breath and not able to recover. However, through the entire climb I never experienced any negative consequences that I can contribute to the altitude. My biggest disappointment on the climb was when I was a mile and a half from the top and there was construction underway. I asked the lady running the sign (stop/slow) if she would let me go through on my bike; she told me that was not going to be possible. Therefore, I was forced to load my bike up on the SUV and Larry then drove Gary and I through the construction zone, about a mile. He dropped us off to climb the last half mile to the Continental Divide. The Continental Divide is the highest point along our trip, we therefore stopped a few moments to take in the beauty of the area and to bask in what we had just done. We’d started our bike ride at sea level and now were standing at over 9,600 feet; we were actually standing on the Continental Divide! I can’t begin to describe the effect this had upon me, as it has not fully settled in, but I feel very grateful for the opportunity to do such a feat. It is one of those treasured moments in life, the kind I pray the future holds many more of for all of us. After the summit, we quickly descended the last 30 miles into Dubois, Wyoming where we will be spending the night before trekking onward tomorrow.

Physically I am holding up really well. My right knee did great today; but I’ve been having some slight pain in my left knee the last few days. I figure it’s because I’m using my left leg more to compensate for my weak right knee. Looks like I may have to pay the piper for that choice, though, as it was the left one today that was giving me problems throughout the entire ride. Ahh well, the price one must pay while on the road. I figure I will start the same treatment for it as I have for my right and hopefully in a week or two the pain will be absolved. Maybe one of these days they will both be healed, but until then I have but one choice; deal with it. Aside from the knees, the rest of my body seems to be taking the punishment quite well. I thought today I would be a little more sore than I was, considering the climbs I went through yesterday. I was pleasantly surprised to feel as fresh as I did throughout today’s ride. The human body is such an incredible machine, I am constantly amazed at what you can put it through and it still comes out with panache. It makes me wonder just how much it is truly capable of.

Day 10 – June 26th

Getting an early start on today’s ride, we had the bikes up and running by 7 am. Cruising along at a comfortable 17 mph we both let ourselves catch a breather on the flats as we knew there was much more to come; specifically two big climbs. Today would take us to an elevation of 8,400 feet. The first 45 miles were easy and of very little consequence to our legs; but our eyes were having a field day. The rolling flat farmland that led up to the mountains was a gorgeous cornucopia of green. I am still overwhelmed by the massive power that these mountains seem to exude. Maybe they have such a profound effect upon me because I grew up on the rolling plains of the Midwest. Whatever the case, there is something about these bones of earth that awe me to my core. I believe this emotion will wrap me in its grip anytime that I take a moment to bask in their massive beauty.

At mile 45 the day started to get interesting; we started our first serious climb of the day. Having talked about the logistics and the fact that Gary and I have different cadences and climbing styles, we agreed that Hart would shuttle between riders on the climb providing the excellent support that seems to come so naturally to him. Early into the first climb I found my gear of choice, stuck to it, and started to battle my best friend and worst enemy; the Big Ass Hill (really that is its name.) In regards to my climbing preference, I had spoken with Larry about the fact that my legs do a lot better when I don’t stop on climbs, so we came up with a plan to refuel me while I was still on the bike. He would stop at certain points along the climb and I could hand off my water bottles as I emptied them and he would make sure to fill them with some sweet climbing nectar and return them to me at the next stop; all while I was still pedaling. Larry, who seems to have a latent talent for running along bikes and providing fuel, even went so far as to hand off V8’s, peanut butter sandwiches, and Gu; all while I continued to pedal. This technique worked out great for me, as it let me continue to spin and keep my rhythm going. When Larry was handing off water bottles while running beside my still moving bike, I felt like a real pro. All I was missing was strength, power, endurance, and talent.

As most cyclists can tell you, when you are into a long climb the best thing you can do is find a gear that feels good and stick with it. I’d found mine on that first climb and I put it to great use. By the time I reached the summit I felt like I was just starting out for the day, versus 65+ miles into the ride. After the first initial climb, which was ten miles long (give or take), I headed down a short descent, and then started the big climb for the day. The climb actually was not too bad in the beginning; it was a fairly low grade. However, as the miles began to pile up I realized that I was not doing nearly the amount of ascending I should be doing if this climb was going to top out at around mile 77. When I crossed the 71 mile mark I saw a big yellow sign that read “Steep Mountain Passes Ahead: 10% grade” “Ten percent grade? Holy friggin $#%&” was the first thought that rammed through my head. 10% grade is a serious climb when you are on the bike; it can chew you up and spit out what remains of your legs very quickly. The next 6 miles were going to be a treat, that’s for sure. The subsequent 4 miles or so were not as bad as I expected, there were some steep pitches but they mellowed out and I was able to keep a good pace going and still felt solid in the saddle. The last 2 miles were torture on the legs though; it was a constant 10-13 percent grade that made all the muscles in my weary body scream. My lungs and cardio held up fine during the final ascent, I think my heart rate may have hit 150 at one point, but for the most part it was in the low 140’s. But my speed; good god my speed was atrocious. The fastest I could get my mutinous machine to move was 6 mph, and at many points I was down to 4 mph. I just could not get my Trek to move any faster, even though I was often out of the saddles cranking on the pedals. I would love to say I looked as if I were dancing in the pedals as I made my way up those final miles, but you nor I would believe it.

My goal towards the end of the ascent was to beat Larry to the summit, since he was running back and forth between Gary and I, I thought I had a chance to do it. With about 150 yards to go, the SUV passed me and I had to settle for second place. Damn, I was so close! My consolation prize, which was a boost to my ego, was a lady at the summit stopped by the car to say she’d seen me working my way up the mountain and thought I looked really strong. She was obviously a genius, a profession cyclist coach, and very competent in the ways of biking. Hey its my story!

A little bit later, I hooked up with Gary and we ascended into Jackson, Wyoming. This means we have knocked out one more state; Idaho. That’s two states down and nearly 1,000 miles as well. ( I believe we have less than 5 miles to go to break the 4 figure milestone.) Now it is time to hit the hot tub to let our pain wracked legs relax before beating them up tomorrow as we struggle to ascend to over 9,000 feet elevation. That should be fun!