Day 96 - Oxnard

The day started slow as I got up, packed and had coffee and breakfast on the beach, watching the tide and surfers roll in.  It was beautiful, but there are days you can tell the body is just not going to cooperate.  Today was going to be one of those days. 

Out in the distance on the ocean, you could see the the winds were really whipping up the seas, and that as soon as I left the protected beach of Malibu I was going to run full on into them.  Sure enough, as the morning progressed I became more exposed to the fierce winds and my progress slowed proportionately.  At one point the winds were blowing up the sands so bad that you could barely see and the sting of the dust smacking into you was quite painful.  I ran up on another north bound cyclist and we both took stock of the deteriorating conditions.  He was pushing on, but I was formulating my rationale for making this a short day. All I needed was to find a Starbucks and it would be all over.

It did not take long, before I came up on one in Oxnard, a starbucks that I had frequented on many occasions when I travelled here for business.  It was nice to find shelter and warm cup of coffee hit the spot.  I checked the weather and their were wind advisorys for the coastal region I was cycling, which proved to be the final straw for me.  As the afternoon wore on, the winds got worse and the temperature began to drop dramatically.  Luckily there was a state park only 3 miles away, 3 miles that felt like an eternity as I slowly cranked the pedals.

The nice thing about these parks and their hiker biker spots is it increases the chances dramatically that you will have some biking company.  Shortly after I rolled in I met Juan, a fellow from Spain that has been on the road for about 15 months, doing the Argentina to Alaska route, North bound.  He describes the winds down in Chile as just brutal.  Shortly after he rolled in, we had more company, Sarah and Wally, who were cycling from San Francisco to Tucson. 

With the wind howling and the temperatures continuing to drop, we all huddled around the picnic table, cooking warm meals and sharing stories of our travels.  I must admit that this is really something that I have been longing for on the road, some shared camaraderie.  I know that as I move farther north I will continue to run into more cyclists, and hear some great stories.

Last day of rest

It has been great for my body to get some much needed rest and pampering, save for the mountain bike ride yesterday.  The Fargo is cleaned and ready to go, as is the BOB trailer.  I am still searching for a new rear Schwalbe Big Apple tire, but I am sure one will be found soon enough.  My belly is full and my clothes are clean.  Now it is time to move forward and rejoin the trail as I push north to Vancouver. 

All rest is good rest, but when you live your life on the road, rest becomes restless and the need to move becomes stronger than the desire to sit.  I have effectively reached that point and am mentally and phycially ready to start the next leg of the journey. Now it is time to move forward and rejoin the trail as I push north towards Vancouver. This leg will be different in many ways, travelling though high population centers and dealing with cold and rain.  Rain will be a big challenge since the last 84 days of travel saw only 2.5 days of precipitation.  I will have to adjust my riding kit slightly to account for the impending moisture, but nothing to serious needs to change.  I lost a glove the other day, and I need to add some rain pants, but otherwise my trusty gore-tex jacket should suffice.  For this leg of the journey I have gone ultralight, giving up my solo tent in favor of my trusty bivy and tarp.  Time will tell if this is a good move, and it is something I am going to document in detail since shelter choice v. weight is such a big issue when travelling for prolonged periods.

The journey picks up again on Monday, thanks for following along!

San Diego, 3,052 Miles – The Southern Tier

I woke before dawn in a field of wet lush grass, frogs and crickets chirping, sounds of birds doing their spring thing.  It was quite the contrast to the past 84 days of winter that I had spent pedaling across the  southern states of the US.  The day before had been one of those epic pushes, the kind that challenge both the mind and the body.  I left Ocochito early in the morning, hoping beyond hope that the winds had finally died down.  I had the last climb of the southern tier, over 4,000 ft of elevation gain  ahead of me and I did not want to battle both the climb  and the winds at the same time.

As I set out I stopped at the last gas station for a while, bought two snickers bars and one power bar.  Once again I was virtually out of food and decided that with these items and full water bottles I could make the push up the mountain and get to a town with a real grocery store.  The climb started out on I-8 and was, in my mind a fairly gentle uphill route.  Having persevered through the farm roads of Texas hill country, with their mind boggling grades and then the 8,000 foot pass in New Mexico and multiple crossings of the Continental Divide, I felt that I was really prepared for what California had in store for me, at least at this point in the trip.

I was  pleased with myself and the strength and mental endurance that had been built over the long miles of the trip.  I have come to learn that for the most part, the hills and the mountains are a mind game, one played between your head, your heart, and your legs.  I guess all of my traveling has paid off as I slowly and methodically worked off the miles.  After hours of averaging no more than 5 mph, and often going at rates much lower than that, I was treated with a beautiful sight, a sign indicating I had finally reached the elevation of 4,000 feet, the highest point that I would have to overcome before descending to San Diego.

I took a moment to rejoice in my accomplishment, and then pushed off down the grade.  It is always a special feeling when you begin your trip down after a long and difficult climb up.  The road swept into a lovely place called Pine Valley that felt as if I had been transported back to the mountains of the east coast.  The air was moist and the grass was green, the smell of spring was in the air mixed with the smell of wood burning in the nearby homes.  I actually had to stop and add two layers of clothing as I had become so accustomed to the arid dry south west, that the moisture in the air was chilling me to the bone.  I knew I had one small climb left before everything was down hill, but at this point it was pure pleasure.

Camping in civilization would once again become a problem, and since I had already logged more than 50 miles over 8 hours, it was time to begin the search.  I made the final small climb and found an RV campground with a little grassy park out front.  When I can, I always try and ask, so I found the manager and inquired about laying out a bedroll in the park and sleeping for the night.  His response, “what will you do in the middle of the night when you need to go to the bathroom?”.  I thought the answer to this was obvious, but what he really meant was, no you can't stay here, and this is just a lousy excuse for why not.  So, I thanked him and moved on, light quickly fading into dusk and a serious mountain chill in the air.  Luckily, not far from there I found an old trail that led to a grassy field, completely secluded where I could safely camp for the night.  I always love finding these places, the kind where I know I am isolated and can move about freely without fear of raising angst in others.

The next morning I woke to the sound of spring birds and the knowledge that I was almost finished with the Southern Tier, and beautiful trek across the southern states of the US.  I had about 40 miles of downhill grade that would take me into San Diego and the ending point, Dog Beach and the Pacific Ocean.  The first 20 miles went incredibly fast, mostly due to the grade of the back country roads and the  portion of I-8 that I was allowed to ride on.  The remaining 20 miles were a little slower due to the urban nature of the route.  A quick stop a Starbucks to get some juice, and re-charge my phone and I was off, knowing that the next time I stopped I would be done.  The remaining jewel of the route was the path through the San Diego canyon park, an absolutely gorgeous ride through woods, and creekl and and a perfectly graded bike path.  From there it was just a short couple of miles to the beach.  At one point I ran into two guys on trikes just starting out on the southern tier route, going west to east.  I wished them luck and pushed off, next stop, Dog Beach.

Finishing journeys like this are often surreal, you look back mentally at all that has been accomplished and endured, and somehow it seems as if it was so long ago.  I think that this continues to reinforce the notion to me that all that matters is the ever present now, what you do today, how you live your life now.  I had ridden more than 3,000 miles across the country on bicycle, not having ridden a bike in over 5 years prior to the beginning of this trip.  I never once doubted my ability, my fitness or the mental toughness that would be required to complete such a journey.  To the contrary, I knew that taking things one day at a time and embracing the  kindness of humanity would see me through.

I took the obligatory pictures of me and the bike and the ocean, posted them on the social media sites and then sat down and smiled, breathed slowly, reminded myself that this is what life is all about. It is all about the memories that we create by living a  life of joy, happiness, peace and most importantly, LOVE.

Vancouver, here I come :-)



Day 76 - Wilcox to Tucson (Vale)

I spent the night camped in a little league ball field, the second time in my odyssey that I have needed to resort to such tactics.  When I arrived in Wilcox last night, I immediately made my way to the local park, but it was much to well lit and populated for any form of camping.  After dark, the people left, and I found myself in a far off field next to Interstate 10.  Other than the constant drone of the trucks and the full moon, it was pretty pleasant night.

I woke early, even earlier than normal, to make sure I was out of such a public place before people started moving around.  The night before I had stopped at a Safeway, the first one I have seen since the east coast, to pick up bananas.  What I love about Safeway's is they have Starbucks in them.  I knew that they opened early, so after packing up I headed over and sat down for a great cup of coffee and free WiFi.  Before you know it I had met this really talented artist and found myself talking about his art, my travels and great places in the US to call home. He and his wife were headed back out west after doing the east coast art scene but they had made the decision to relocate to xxxx North Carolina, one of my favorite places on the east coast.

Due to my lounging in Safeway for way to long I was now off to a late start.  It was 80 miles from Wilcox to Tucson and I had hoped to make it to the Colossal Cave state park which lies about 17 miles out of the city.  However, the winds have really been coming up, and I had just done to big days, so I was really unsure of how far I would make it once I hit the road.  Luckily as I started out, the winds were reasonably light and my legs had enough energy to push me forward at a decent clip, although not as good as yesterday morning. 

The terrain seemed to largely be a climbing elevation, which also contributed to slightly slower speeds.  None the less, I found myself making good progress as I approached Texas Canyon, a location I had been warned about as being one of my last big climbs.  By then I was feeling pretty good and just moving along at a good clip, even up hill.  I must say the lighter load in the BoB is making a big difference in my climbing speeds.  Then, well, the dreaded feeling that only occurs with a rapidly deflating tire.  Here I was, half way up the climb, 18 wheelers wizzing by, and really no place other than the shoulder to do a repair. 

I slowed to a stop and watched the last of the arir flow out of the rear tire -- why oh why is it always the rear tire?  I must say right now, that I have been so lucky compared to others that I have met.  This is only my 4th flat over 2500 miles, and that is really impressive.  People ask me all the time about my huge tires and if they are really efficient, to which I say, hey they really roll when inflated.  Scientifically, well, I have no real idea and speculate to a certain extent that smaller tires would be more efficient, and I might even try them out when I get to the west coast, but you can't argue with the flat resistance of the Schwalbe Big Apples.

I managed to repair the flat, put in another tube, got back on the bike and it immediately flatted again.  Needless to say, I was questioning my luck, but I figured out that it was a bad inner tube that I put in and not another flat.  However, I still had to repeat the whole process of changing out the rear tire, and re-inflating the monster 2.3 Big Apples, something that is really quite a chore with my little pump.

Later that morning, I approached a lone rider going down the highway just short of Benson. I slowly worked my way up to them and met Leann, a woman from Orlando who was riding across the country at an amazing pace.  We stopped and had lunch together where I learned that she had left Orlando barely a month ago, averaging over 100 miles a day for a good portion of the trip.  She had started with a BOB trailer, but quickly dumped it in favor of an ultra light setup. She managed by her lightweight setup by eating out all the time and staying in hotels the majority of the nights.  This allowed her to carry the bare minimum on her carbon fiber, dual suspension mountain bike.  We finished the day by riding to the Tucson area and she really could cruise up those hills.  On the downhills, the Fargo and Bob, quickly pulled ahead of her, but I was never able to keep up with her on the clims.  It made me long for an even lighter setup, so the wheels in my head continue to turn as to how I can go ever lighter without sacrificing my ability to camp and cook.

I managed to roll off the highway at the Vale exit and worked my way another 7 miles to the Colossal Cave state park. I got there after five with the gates closed for a special event.  I don't mind ignoring closed signs when I have to but an event with people made me skittish, so as tired and spent as I was, I went in search of a place to camp.  Not 200 yards outside of the park entrance was an elevated creek wash that I quickly rolled the bike into and found a nice rocky/sandy oasis in a desert of pointed, prickly, stingy things.  It turned out to be an perfect place to watch the moon rise up over the canyon, back lighting the giant Saguaro cactus and listen to the coyotes howel at the brightly lit sky.

Day 74 - Silver City to I-10

I was somewhat sad to say goodbye to Silver City and William, my host, this morning as I had grown fond of the town and the great people I met.  It is a very eclectic town with something for everyone, including a travelling vagabond like myself.  To William and Glenn and my new friend Jim, thanks for making my stay so enjoyable.

The ride into Silver City as you may recall was an amazing downhill experience.  Well, as you can imagine, around here what goes down then goes up, so the climb out of Silver was exhausting.  The vast majority of the first 28 miles were up hill, occasionally offering up a descent, which only meant you lost valuable altitude which would then need to be regained.  This went on exactly as William had described, so I was at least mentally ready for it.  The most challenging point was crossing the Continental Divide, again, and then realizing there was still one more brutal climb up and out of this range.

Finally, at almost exactly mile 28, I crested the the top and was greeted with a sweeping panoramic view of the valley below, with the ever-present New Mexico mountains off in the distance, ringing the valley almost as if they were sentinels guarding the way.  The treat now, 15 glorious downhill miles to the intersection of 70, just a couple of miles outside of Lordsburg.  It was one of those down hills that was sloped just perfectly, enough of an angle to give you a good 22 or so mph, but not so steep that you had to spend half your time on the brakes.  It allowed me to just cruise down the mountainside and into the valley, all the while taking in the breathtaking scenery.

From there it was up and into Lordsburg and a stop for more bananas.  In my quest to find the cheapest form of snacks, I have discovered that out here bananas are incredibly cheap, often in the .49 cents/lb range making them one of my favorite go to foods.  They don't do so well in the heat, so it is important to get a few ripe ones and a few green ones in hopes that they don't go bad before you eat them. 

Lordsburg gave me the impression of a fairly dusty and dry southwestern town, not at all what I had been used to up in the Gila area.  I got my bananas, found a McDonald's to re-charge at, and then hopped on I-10 with all the hustle and bustle of a world I left behind a couple of weeks ago.  It made me realize just how special it was to pedal those crazy graded farm roads up and over the mountain passes, nary a car or truck to be seen, just beautiful mother nature patiently waiting for you to soak it all in.

I managed to make it to one of the rest stops and have set up camp here with a number of other weary travellers.  There is even one of those monster RV's out in the lot, sides extended, satellite dish pointed up.  I see these huge RV's all over the place and I just can't figure them out, but each to their own, and if it makes them happy then more power to them.  At the price of gas, which I see across the street is over $4/gallon, I sure don't know how they do it?

Tomorrow I push on to Tuscon, hoping to get in a good 60-70 miles before the wind kicks up.  It is a constant issue now as the spring winds are in full force, and unfortunately, they blow West or South West every day.  The odds of me getting a tail wind are zip!

Lastly, I had some time in Silver to research other cyclists that are out on the trail, some simply seeking adventure, others searching for meaning, some doing both.  There are two pretty amazing women that are cycling the ancient Silk Road, starting in Istanbul and working their way to India.  It is a fantastic journey, with a great story and they have some amazing pictures, so be sure and check them out here, and if possible, donate a few dollars to their 'Scurvy' fund.  I just love that!

Day 59 - Sierra Blanca to El Paso

Finally I was greeted with the sight of a never ending decent, at least to my eyes, that is what it seemed to be.  Leaving the RV park where I had camped, the first few miles out of Sierra Blanca were a slow and steady uphill.  I knew from my maps that everything dropped down to El Paso, so I patiently awaited the cresting of the ridge.  Finally, there before my eyes, was the long drop along I10 down into the valley that was sure to be nice and flat.

Those days are really a treat because you get so many miles in without any effort.  Unfortunately their is often a price to be paid, some sort of wicked karma played upon you by the Gods.  When I reached the valley floor, the route deviates from the highway into 18 miles of some of the most inhospitable terrain I have seen.  Dry, dry, and drier, the dust permeates your lips, lungs and body.  This stretch of land works its way closer to the Rio Grande and the border between the US and Mexico.  Border Patrol agents and the lone goat farmer were all I would see on this desolate stretch of road.  As I wound my way further along, it became apparent that the locals knew how to farm this land, something that for the life of me I could not figure out how.  The dirt, grey and rocky stretched for miles, but off in the distance you could see the swirling dust cloud thrown up from the big tractors plowing the land.

Soon it became apparent what the plan was, they had figured out how to create canals, dams, and resevoirs, all from the Rio Grande.  With an intricate system of flood gates they could control what fields got irrigated and when.  I must assume that their is some overarching authority that places a method on this madness, but who knows.  Slowly the miles rolled by and I would find huge patches of land that were bright green, a stark contrast to that which surrounded them.

I was now approaching the 60 mile mark for the day, and not a camp spot in sight.  My attempts to communicate with locals was lost on them, my lousy Spanish and their lousy English were no match for one another.  Dusk settled in and still I pounded the pedals, darkness soon to set in.  I went to switch on my blinky lights, only to find out my batteries were dead.  Then, my headlight, dead as well.  My emergency strobe strapped to the back of BOB, well, not quite dead but close enough. 

I used my phone as a light to pull out my trusty headlamp, thank goodness for Petzl, those things just work and work.  As darkness set in I was now pedaling in complete black on winding country roads, confident as always that a spot would be found, not allowing doubt to creep into my mind.  I had never been failed and I knew tonight would not be the first time.  Still, a spot sure would be nice, I had not eaten in quite some time, and save the adrenalin rushing through my legs, I was all but dead. Shortly before sunset I had begun to notice that Pecan farms were all around, some stretching away from the road as far as you could see.  These farms made for a very intense sunset as the sun dipped down into their leafless branches, casting a very eery glow along the ground. 

As I searched for a spot, it was not lost on me that I was pedaling by these massive farms.  The problem, they were almost always surrounded by one of these min canals, making entry into them impossible.  Finally, after 78 miles I found a farm that stretched off into the distance, no fence, no canal, and only two remote houses near them.  That was it, I pulled over, shut off my light and walked the bike back into the middle of the trees.  Collapsing in exhaustion, I now had to find a way to eat witout fire, and sleep with no tent.  Right now I don't have my bivy, so it was going to be a night under the stars.  As for dinner, well a can of Sardines, corn tortillas and fresh brocolli would have to do.  Needless to say, it was quite the day, but the glow of El Paso was right there, Texas was soon to be finished and New Mexico up on the plate.

Day 57 - Observatory to Van Horn

The ride off the top of the Davis Mountains and the McDonald observatory was fast, and winding.  Wicked downhill made breaking necessary to keep my speed under 35 mph, a speed that is about the max for a fulluy loaded BOB trailer.  The sweeping turns and straight downhill plunged me down 8 miles in record time, with only brief, and often painful uphill sections to battle.

As I exited the mountains and came out onto the plains I had sweeping views of the distance, a far cry from yesterday's near zero visibility from the snow storms.  As I took a break on a little turnout I saw the welcome sign of another biker working his way up a hill, magically appearing from below.  He was shortly followed by his girlfriend and we spent a few moments chatting and comparing notes.  They were on their way up to the Observatory and I am sure they received the same wonderful hospitality from Dave and Debbie that I did.

Speaking of Dave and Debbie, these folks are what makes this trip and Warmshowers such a great experience.  They put me up in their house for two days, fed me and took me on tours of the surrounding area.  On top of that, since they are at a strategic spot on the Southern tier route, they have amazing stories of peddlers that have made their way up the mountain only to find a warm and comfortable place to stay.  Thanks guys, I really appreciated your hospitality.

Shortly after getting back on the road, and about 2 miles from getting on I10, I ran into another group of cyclists.  This group was made up of a father and his two sons, with mom 'sagging' the trip for them.  I would guess the boys were in their early teens and all I could think of was what a wonderful experience for this family and for those boys.  To peddle 3300 miles across the country with your dad is really something special.  I thoroughly enjoyed chatting with them and can only hope that my efforts to convince my kids to come out and join me on one of the legs of my trip will be met with success.

Much is made of this stretch of road because Kent is really not much of a stop, with pretty disgusting camping conditions behind the old Mercantile, which is now closed.  I was on a mission to blow by Kent, so I only stopped for a bit of rest and a snack and then it was on to the interstate.  Here you need to go about 19 miles on I10 before you can get off and ride on a frontage road.  Personally, I found the interstate a joy to ride on.  The shoulder is quite large with a big rumble strip separating you from traffic, but more importantly, it is smooth asphalt.  Wow, what a joy to ride on something so smooth, you really feel like your speed increases  by a couple of mph.  I made great time and the views of the plains and the distant mountains are pretty spectacular.

The biggest issue with this stretch is camping, so I opted to wait for the frontage road and camp a few miles outside of Van Horn.  I found a bit of dirt road and clear sand along the barbed wire fence and after 65 miles plopped myself down in the dirt and just chilled until dark.  As the sun set over the mountains, the sky lit up in brilliant reds, oranges and blues and made for a really sweet little place to watch the transition from day to night.  I really do love that time right after the sun goes down and its counterpart, right before it comes up.  There is just something really very peaceful about that time of day and it is so conducive to sitting, meditating and reflecting on your day and how good life is out on the trail.

Day 55 - Alpine to McDonald Observatory

I had a great stay in Alpine but was ready to hit the road especially with the forecast for 60 mph winds on Sunday.  I woke early and hit the road right at day break. The ride to the observatory is almost exactly 40 miles from Alpine, so it was a very comfortable distance.  The first 8 miles out of Alpine are dead flat with sweeping views of the plains on the left and right and the Davis mountain range in front of you. There was no doubt that the flats were ending and the mountains were coming.  The elevation change of the entire day was about 2200 feet with the first 30 miles increasing around 1000 feet and the last 5 miles, the remaining 1200.

As I rolled out of the flats you enter a magnificent ride through the canyons leading to Fort Davis.  I have to say, this stretch of 15 miles or so was the prettiest stretch of my trip, surpassing the route along the Guadelope river as my favorite ride to date.  The climbs were gentle, interspersed with rolling hills and some flats. I actually came across the first body of water that I had seen since the Pecos river, a spring fed stream/pond that ran for a half or mile along the road.  Normally one would not even notice such an occurrence, but riding in the desert, the lack of water is on your mind at all times.

As you exit the canyon you come upon another set of rolling plains, once again, the Davis mountains in the distance with glimpses of the McDonald Observatory telescopes peaking in between the mountain peaks.  Fort Davis was a very quaint little town, with the most amazing little grocery store in a long while.  It was at odds with the normal Texas small town market, instead of shelves lined with junk food this market had nice organic items, things with real nutritional value.  It was a welcome place to shop, and I took advantage to pick up a new type of breakfast oats and some potato gnocchi to spice up a dinner or two.  I am definitely looking forward to those two meals.

The girl scouts were out in full swing, running their yearly cookie sale, which I felt a great need to support.  I talked to the girls and their parents about the fundraising efforts for Childhood Obesity and they are a great willing audience.  After some question and answers about my trip, I rooted through my change supply and managed to pull together enough coins to part with a box of peanut butter cookies, my all time Girl Scout fave.  Later in the day I managed to consume half of the box in one sitting, but as you will see I earned them.

Leaving Fort Davis it is a mere 10 miles to the observatory, but for those of you that have done the math, you already realize that the bulk of the elevation gain occurs in a very small distance, in other words, straight up.  The last 5 miles up the mountain were just brutal, and I was once again grateful to AJ and the Peddlers bike shop in Austin for convincing me to add a very low granny gear to the setup.  Without it I would have been walking, which I don't have an issue with, but still, I would prefer to peddle if at all possible.  Thankfully their was a little picnic area about 2 miles from the top and I was able to take a break without looking like a total wimp, eat some trail mix and prepare myself for the final assault on the climb.  The views here were simply spectacular as you looked back out to the south east and the area just covered.

My host, John, works for the observatory, so after arriving and resting up a bit, I got a wonderful sunset tour of the two main telescopes.  The view at sunset was just unreal, and something not to be forgotten soon.  I will post pictures of it later, but they just won't do it justice.  From the top of the mountain and the catwalk that goes around the telescope, you have an amazing 360 degree view, where you can see over 100 miles away. It was a breathtaking scene as the sun set off in the west back lighting the original telescope that was endowed to the university all those years ago and is still in operation today.

The forecast for high winds means I will rest on Sunday and then make the final 3 day push out of Texas and  into New Mexico and Arizona. 

Day 53 : Marathon to Alpine

I had worked hard yesterday to do the 50 plus miles up hill to get to Marathon Tx, with the goal being that today would then be an easy 25 mile ride to Alpine.  I obviously did not consult mother nature about my plans as she had other things in store for me.  So, instead of writing a long winded description of my difficult day I will just list out some bullet points, some facts, some thought that rambled through my head as I battled a ferocious non-stop head wind.  For those of you that adventure travel, I know you will relate to the pain and agony that such days inflict on our bodies and our psyche.  Enjoy:

• 27 miles should have been a two and half hour ride, but instead turned into six long hours
• I was blown from the middle of the shoulder (where I normally ride) off the road or on to the road, a mere 3-4 feet in an instant as the wind shifted from in front to the side
• My normal riding position when the wind was from the side was at a 20 degree angle leaning into the wind, not unlike edging my kayak into strong side winds
• Did you know that strong winds from the side will literally take the saliva out of your mouth and make you drool sideways?  I did not know this was possible, but am here to tell you that it is
• I never thought I would use my granny gear on the flats, but I did
• When the wind subsided, 5 mph felt like I was speeding
• There were not many downhill grades, but when they did occur I seemed to gain absolutely no benefit from them at all
• I had to stop to drink from my water bottle for fear of crashing if I rode one handed
• The last 7 miles took what seemed like an eternity, forcing me to stop each mile to rest and drink
• There were large objects moving down and accross the road, just like in those old western movies
• I have not been really sore for most of the trip.  I have no doubt that tomorrow I will be in pain
• Why are the last few miles of any difficult ride always uphill, I mean, what are the odds?

Day 51

I broke camp fairly early and said my goodbyes to my new friends.  After several days off and not much miles under my seat I felt a need to do some bigger miles today.  The goal was to get around 50-60 in, which in the flats is not a big deal, but here the elevation is on a one way ticket up.  As the morning progressed I realized that this was going to be a really hard day.  The sun had come out early and it was bright and intense, adding heat to the equation of exhaustion.  By noon I had struggled up the hills and was in a full blown sweat.  Heat exhaustion was a real fear.

Unwittingly I had sent back my lone long sleeve shirt that was not wool and not black.  This I realized later in the day was to be a very bad mistake.  My bike shirt is sleeveless thus exposing both my arms, and shoulders and that ever so delicate portion of your lats.  Well by early afternoon the sun was really taking a toll and I knew that I was turning a bright shade of red.  That combined with the layer of sweat and dust made for a very uncomfortable feeling on my skin.  It was like this noxious combination of stuff on your arms that at the touch felt gritty and left a slight burning sensation.  I knew that night time was going to be painful because I was officially fried.

The hills continued and I had my second flat of the trip.  I rolled over two of those prickly branches that just pierced a 2 inch spike righ through my tire.  These things were so tough that when I went to repair the flat I could not pull them out, but instead had to 'push' them through.  I guess short of slime, there is no defense against these things because they are just mean.  I will attempt at all costs to avoid them in the future, but they are incredibly difficult to see on these chipped roads, which are a combination of black and gray/white rocks, so the thorns just blend right in.

By around 5:00 I was spent and found a picnic area to relax and figure out my camping plans.  This would be my first night of real desert camping which creates a whole new set of issues.  One thing is for sure, the Border Patrol is incredibly active, so in addition to worrying about being on someone's land I also did not want to be anywhere that would cause them angst.  As I sat at the picnic area this very interesting guy stopped, with his female Pit Bull, and they hung with me for a while talking about immigration, border control, Kansas, and mostly guns.  It turns out that he was ex military and was always locked and loaded.  When travelling he carried multiple handguns, rifle, shotgun, AK-47, and more handguns.  He was wearing shorts and was still packing underneath them.  I admit to both being intrigued and a bit worried about  this guy but in the end he was harmless.

I ended up circling back a couple of hundred yards to a side road and made my way about a half a mile out into the desert. There I waited until dark and made camp, cooked and passed out from exhaustion.  What seemed like a very short time later I was awaked by the sound of goats trying to figure out who or what I was and why I was in the middle of their pasture.  Once I realized what it was, it was easy to dismiss it and just go back to sleep.  I woke later that night to do my business, and upon stepping out of my tent was greeted by a brilliant display of stars.  Having lost the last of the Del Rio night pollution this was a real treat for my eyes.

Day 50

After a great day off my new friends Nils and Heather offered me share their campsite at Seminole Canyon state park, about a 39 mile ride from where we were in Amistad.  The route turned out to be nice a flat with only a few hills and I managed to crank out the miles in about 3 hours, definitely one of my faster days of late.  Rolling into the Seminole Canyon park I was blown away by the canyons themselves. I can only imagine what the really big ones look like because these were really pretty small. 

The park was filling up very quickly with lots of RV's, Kayakers, and hikers.  Apparently this is a very popular location and it made for a fun place to relax and people watch.  One of the most striking things since leaving Amistad and Del Rio is the sense that you have really entered into the desert.  The landscape has changed dramatically and I am sure will only get more intense the further west I move.

I definitely enjoyed the companionship of having people around for a few days.  What a treat to socialize and actually eat meals in a civilize manner instead of ingesting food as quickly as humanly possible.  Even still I noticed that my plate was cleaned in about half the time of those around me.  I have said it before, but it is worth repeating, it is just impossible to eat too much food on this trip.  It seems that even when I try and consume everything in sight I am still running a deficit.

That night, the skies cleared and the stars shone bright.  Back to the east was still some light pollution from Del Rio, so I would imagine that in another day or two the night skies will be truly amazing.

Side-Note

Two things I just wanted to point out.  First, is that while I am up to day 47, my actual bike time is right around 33 days, which puts me about half way across the Southern Tier.  The other days were down time due to the arctic blast that hit Texas and the few days of repairs in Austin to the bike.

Second, most, if not all, of the Daily Trail posts are from my Windows 7 phone via email to the website.  For whatever reason the website system does not translate things correctly and you get words that run together.  I do apologize for this, and have tried to find a way around it, but it is something on the Squarespace end.  This happened last year with my Nokia, so I know it is not on the phone end but on the translation from email to post.  So, please forgive the spacing and any undue typos/grammar mistakes that may be thrown in from time to time.

I hope you enjoy reading and following along.

Day 40

Picked up the bike today from the repair shop and all is well.  I have enjoyed Austin but am looking forward to hitting the road tomorrow.  It feels like forever since I rode, even though it was only a 10 day rest.  I have to admit, that is the longest rest period I have taken on a trip, and a bit too long by about 7 days.  Hopping on the bike today it felt like a complete stranger, especially because I rode without the trailer.  It was like a totally new machine, not only because of the repairs, but simply not having a 40 pound trailer waggling behind you.

Luckily the weather is clearing and the forecast is for a nice warming trend.  Heading out into hill country and then into West Texas should be a real challenge.  I have camped in may places, but never the dessert.  While dealing with water is something I am used to, the totally new array of critters, including scorpions, has me a bit on edge.  I don't know how it will affect my camp routine, but I will be sure and pay extra attention to what is around me, especially in the mornings after a long cool night. 

I am stoked and ready to roll, so let the journey continue.....

Day 39

I am now 10 days into my brief, and somewhat unexpected down time in Texas, and I must admit to now going a bit stir crazy.  It has been awesome to visit with family, and equally nice to finally see and explore Austin, but now, well now, I am ready to roll.

It is  hard to describe how things get a little twisted up when you are used to being on the go and then suddenly must stop.  I have been struggling for a couple of days now trying to come up with the words to describe it, but I am still at a bit of a loss.  I think that is primarily because all of those crazy emotions of loneliness and emptiness manifest themselves when I stop, as apposed to when I am in motion.  When in motion, the days are full of energy, discovery, and the mission.  Somehow, stopping for a prolonged period of time sort of twists things around.

These emotions don't present themselves on the much needed rest days or even discovery days when you have reached a destination and are now going to explore for a day or two.  Instead, it is that prolonged downtime that must allow the mind way to much time to think about things like friends, relationships and possessions.  When I enter a city for some period of time, these are the things that I see, they are everywhere I look, and I think because of that I can't help but become hyper-sensitive about them. 

On the trail, these are less apparent, and thuse more easily pushed into the background noise of the over clocked brain.  On the trail, I become so preoccupied with the mission of the day -- scenery, miles, weather, food, shelter and the performance of my body, that those other things just are not what the brain spends its time thinking about.  I don't mean to imply that it is better to be alone, just that if you are alone and travelling that way for an extended period of time, then a prolonged down time in a city turns from being a rest stop to a bit of an angsty one.  If you are in a city where you don't have friends, I think things get amplified even more. 

One of the questions I get asked most often is if I get lonely, travelling like I do.  My answer has always been no, and I don't think that will change right now.  But it is definitely harder to stay in that place of peace; that place I call my 'Center' when the down-time days begin to stack up.  I was reading another blog last night, that of two long distance travellers, who like me have given up their home for the journey of the trail.  They talked about their current downtime in a new city and how it presents challenges not found on the trail.  It was interesting to read and gave me some comfort that I am not alone in how I feel.

This is definitely what happens to me and the position I currently find myself in.

Sorry for the rambling but I needed to write and just let this one flow as it came out.  A tinge of sadness has been with me for a few days and writing and expressing myeslf always seems to help.

Day 28-35

As many of you know, I detoured up to North Texas to visit family.  My intention had been to spend 3-4 days and relax, eat a ton of food, and catch up with loved ones.  Much to my surprise, by day 3, the impending arctic blast was being predicted and by day 4 of my stay, the frigid temperatures were upon me, along with sleet and rain.  It was a mess and only predicted to get worse.  By mid week, Texas got up to 6 inches where I am staying and that insured that I was not getting back on the trail any time soon.  Heck, I don't even have shoes or pants, just shorts and crocs, definitely not the appropriate clothing for single digit temps and 6 inches of wet snow.

Updates to the Daily Trail have been infrequent due to lack of internet and sparse cell phone coverage.  I must also admit that because of the weather, I have not done much other than eat, sleep, and be a bum.  Happily, the visit has been great and I am now preparing to head south and get back on the trail, just south and west of Austin.

On Monday I will hop a ride down to Austin, get some repairs done to the bike and then rejoin the southern tier route.  My body is definitely ready, because going from 65 miles a day, to nothing is just plain hard.  The first few days of rest are enjoyable and I think important to your long term success.  However, after a few days the body seems to get terribly confused and nothing feels right.  Now, compound that with being confined  in a house and not even being able to go outside, and well, you have a recipe for pure restlessness.

I am axious to get back on the road, and move into west Texas and then New Mexico and Arizona.  In a couple of weeks I will be at a point where I will detour north again, this time to visit the Grand Canyon and some other places that I have always wanted to see.  If you are interested in joining me for this segement of the trip, please drop me a note.  The detour from Tempe AZ to the southern rim of the Grand Canyon is about 250 miles, or a week of biking.  I am confident that if you are simply interested in a one way route that we can arrange for some form of transport back to Tempe. 

My current plan is to continue to the North Rim and some of the upper canyons surrounding Page AZ.  From there I will decide if I am biking back down to join the route or if I will look for transport to get me back on route.  I believe that I will be in position to meet up with folks in Tempe around the 10th of March, so if you are interested, just shoot me an email and we can discuss options.

One more day now of rest and then back on the bike, this time with a 1x9 setup.  I chose this because it was the most affordable option out of the multitude of choices.  I am really looking forward to not having to stand up on each and every incline and certainly for the more mountainous regions, it will be a huge benefit to my body.  By adding gears I also think my overall performance, both distance and speed, should increase slightly since I won't be expending myself as much on those inclines.

The daily trail will officially pick back up on the 7th of February!

Day Two

Evening camp in the Ocala National ForestI woke in the middle of the night, surrounded by the tall pines and strange sounds of the Ocala National forest.  Even though I was only about 2 miles off of the main road, I felt completely isolated -- it was so serene.  The cold front was moving through and the tree tops were bristling.  The sounds of animals made me question my food storage, so up I got to check things out.  All in all it was good, although a wee bit restless sleep that night.

Morning broke with blue skies and chillier air.  The day before had been in the upper 70's and now my watch showed 49 degrees.  I knew the day would be a bit cooler, which was fine with me because yesterday was just a bit too warm for my liking.  The hills of Florida had taken a toll on my legs and I was definitely feeling it as I woke, had coffee and ate breakfast.  My plan had been to get on the trail and go north through the forest, bypassing the hustle and bustle of Ocala.

The first kink in my plans came when I discovered that I had snapped the rubber do-dad that holds the cotter pin for the BOB trailer.  Yikes, how was I going to hook it up and if I couldn't what would I do.  I mean I was back in the forest, off the main trail on a horse trail, it would be a reall pain to deal with if I could not figure this out.  So I crawled on the ground for 30 minutes looking for the pin, all to no avail.  After another 15 minutes of contemplating, then hand zip ties came out and I was able to use 3 of them to hold the trailer securely on, at least I hoped it would be secure.  I was back on these dirt roads that I new were going to bounce the bike and trailer around, so I was definitely concerned.

A local biker greets me as I come out of the forestAs I headed out it became clear that while the trailer was going to work fine, I had lousy directions for heading through the forest.  I attempted to use my little phone GPS, but the end result was I did a big circle and came back out on the main road. After going 6 miles up and down gravel and sand roads I had probably made no more than 2 miles of good distance and expended a great deal of energy in the process.

From that point on it was smooth going.  I was able to find an Ace hardware store and buy some pins that would hold in the short term.  Since I was going through Citrus country quite a few places were giving away oranges which made for great snacks throughout the day.  My goal was to make it to Gainesville where I had made plans to stay with a host.  I rolled through Paines Prairie, right on the outskirts of town, just as the sun was beginning to set.  It made for a beautiful end of what was a very long, 76 mile day. 

Sun setting as I arrive in GainesvilleDay Three will be a nice short day to let my body rest and recover from the shock of fully loaded touring. 

Day One

Here I sit 60 .miles into my bike around America tour. The day wentalmost perfect with only a slight bobble in the beginning. Six miles in Ideveloped an issue with my crank. Luckily there was a great shop right onthe way that had me going in no time.

The weather was perfect and I made good time, 60 miles in five hours. Notbad for a single speed towing a trailer with way too much stuff in it. Thatwill be my big task over the next couple of days; figure out what toeliminate.

Lunch was my normal pb and honey with cliff bars as snacks. Dinner waspasta, quinoa , olive oil and avacado. I am stuffed, tired and soon to besore.

In other words I could not be happier. Tomorrow should be a hard day sinceI need to cover the same distance but this time with a sore set of legs.

Sent from my Windows Phone