TransAmerica, Trixie and Mark

I wrote about this some back when we climbed Hoosier Pass, but one of the things that we do on a regular basis is convince ourselves that we're up to the task at hand. Normally, this is pretty easy because we're in pretty awesome bike shape. In the case of today, we woke up and looked at the weather forecast. It looked like it was going to rain a little bit, but that we'd be at the top or over by then, so we would have a leisurely brunch waiting out the storm, then roll downhill into Jackson. Easy... we are some awesome! Well, of course, verily this did not come to pass. Our climb up Togowotee was going pretty well for the first 12 or so miles... a bit colder, but no problem. Then it started to flurry a little. No problem we thought, we saw this when we climbed Hoosier Pass and it made for great photo ops with snowmen and stuff and made us feel even tougher. Then, it started to snow alot , to the point that we could barely see the road and definitely couldn't see anyt

We woke up to no wind and started plugging along our way towards Jackson. We started chugging the 3000 miles toward vertical feet up over the next 90 miles. We biked through the Wind River reservation and saw some folks in Fort Washakie as we stopped for a quick snack. We kept rolling onto Crowheart, where we found a few things: 1) We stopped a convenience store where you were allowed to not only buy sundries and general store-type things, but also guns. Rifles, or even Dirty Harry's handgun. I asked them if I could buy a handgun, and they told me I couldn't since I wasn't a resident. But, if I was a resident, I could walk out with a gun that day. So, remember, Wyoming is not the state to do things that increase your proclivity to being shot in a crime of passion. 2) We bumped into a touring group of older dudes that had been touring the TransAm slowly over the course of a few years. This year it was the colorado to Wyoming sections. They didn't like Jeffrey City or

We woke up in the trailer we were staying in and stumbled our way over to the Split Rock, where Vikki made us a large pile of pancakes and we said our goodbyes. We made our way along the final route to Lander. Along the way, we got a totally awesome and scenic downhill into Beaver Rim. Totally sweet downhill Lander is a pretty hip town with NOLS and a few other things going for it. I got the front wheel of Trixie fixed and bought a new bike helmet. Dustin and Jon did laundry. I took a shower at the community pool. Then, as in most days, we stopped in at the brewery where we started chatting with the congenial cyclist/bartender. We talked some about touring and beer and life in Lander. It was slowly revealed that Jim was in fact the proprietor of the brewery, in which we got to hear how he came to be. Totally cool. Jim suggested that when we got to Jackson that we try to look-up folks on warmshowers to stay with, and had a few people in mind. Warmshowers is a website that allows

Biking today ended up well and the front wheel held up today. We passed through a decent amount of nothing, but we had the wind at our back except for the last few miles. Our destination was Jeffrey City, WY. We had been dreading Jeffrey City since it was the only sign of civilization from Rawlins to there, and really the only place for 60 miles in the other direction.We had heard from the blogs and from a few other folks that the restaurant there wouldn't serve food or give water to cyclists for some reason. That only 50 people lived there. We've passed through alot of towns that folks in cars would blink through and miss. We had heard back in Saratoga that things were a bit better and that the restaurant was under new ownership. We even heard that some folks next door were taking in cyclists. Things were looking a bit up, but as with all things, we try to remain level and not get our hopes up. Places sometimes arbitrarily close (especially in rural areas) and in a town of 5

The Man and the Machine I'm much more of a creature of change and I ordinarily thrive on a sense of disorganization that somehow makes sense to me in my head. As such, it's been a bit of a change to live on such a regimented life the last month or so while biking. At times, I feel like I'm just as plugged in as a machine. Everyday follows a pretty predictable pattern: Wake up Tear down my tent and put away my gear Change into biking stuff Eat food, not in a way in which I ask myself what sounds tasty today, but in the pure fashion of "How many calories do I need to consume to get to the next place I can consume calories and what's the most efficient and economical way to do so". It's more like putting gas in a car than dining. Bike Eat food Bike Enter town, figure out where to stay Talk to folks, who generally ask the same 20 or so questions ("Where are you coming from?" "How long is your trip?" "What's your favori

In Walden the night before we met two young hitchhikers on their way hitching across america. They were camping in the same park as us. The guy had been hitching for awhile and had his girlfriend with him. We need to rely somewhat on the kindness of people to get across America; if we hadn't been taken inside in Rush Center, KS, we would have been pelted to "pain" by hail. It would take us longer to navigate around detours. The trip would be less cool. It was interesting to talk to someone who's philosophy was to rely on people's kindness entirely. They had soup to barter, which they hoped would net them beer or cigarettes... which was interesting. They were just two short college kids, so they were about as unassuming as if my kid sister suddenly bought a flannel shirt and start hitchhiking. But, I suppose why people would help folks even in this situation is because helping folks like that leads to an encounter that is totally unordinary. It's the same rea