TransAmerica, Trixie and Mark

May, Sometime in 2007 - I was going on one of my first rides after buying Trixie with my then roommate Tim, my now roommate Jim, and my friend Gwen. We did a ride to Mt. Horeb, which is what I'd classify at "Wisconsin Climbing"... not too steep, but the occasional climb or so mixed in with some flats. Coming back from Mt. Horeb, right after one of the little climbs right after the Riley Tavern, I felt weak and tried to slow down to take a break. Not understanding my toe clip pedals, and some combination of exhaustion and being out of shape, I just kind of fell over. Everyone kinda got a laugh, I drank some water and everything was a bit better. This was the first time I remember getting beat up on a climb, but I've tried since to avoid the repeat process. Flash Forward to this Monday: We woke up and had another pleasant morning of conversation and coffee at Molly's place. Molly is a saint for taking in Jon and me and letting us crash for 4 days. At the end of th

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

Last night was cold.... it dropped below freezing during the night with no cross wind at all. Meaning that I bundled up into my sleeping bag like a cocoon to stay warm (worked), but woke up with condensation all over the inside of my tent. My single-walled North Face tent looks awesome and is super-lite, but if there's no wind and there's humidity and it's cold outside, the inside gets super damp. We finally woke up when the sun came up and it took me 5 minutes to get out of the ball I had rolled myself into in my sleeping bag. We woke up, ate at the "Glory Hole" diner, and began riding up the mountain to the continental divide. We didn't see any moose, but there were girls cycling, which are almost as unusual to see in the middle of nowhere. The climb today was easier, as I feel like I finally have adjusted to the elevation. We zoomed up to the top of Willow Creek Pass at 9683 feet and crossed the continental divide again. From there, we dropped back down the

We woke up this morning, and had a slow start with a tasty McDonald's breakfast and then some conversation at the gas station with Chris, who was riding from Eugene east to Denver. He gave us some pointers on the rest of the route. From there, we had an easy downhill, tailwind day around the Green Mountain dam. It was simply gorgeous. We headed east to head back north again, but by doing so, we got to ride through a canyon while an Amtrak train was going through. I could only pull over and watch. I came to the library and furiously updated my blog, and now might go eat something or sit in the hot springs. A great day after a rest day :)

When you're biking East to West across the TransAmerican trail, you say things to yourself to feel better about the accomplishments you've already done. You'll say things like that the Ozarks and Appalachians have harder climbs (technially, true), that you've already biked 2200 miles before the Rockies (totally badass!), that you're skinnier than before and probably sent things home you didn't need (yup.). But, don't underestimate the Rockies. The reasons as follows: Maybe you'll be lucky and you'll catch a killer tailwind or no wind days through the mountains. But, we had wind. And since the climbs and downhills are generally so gradual, it means that the wind kicks your butt on small climbs and makes you pedal on downhills. It makes the days deceptively harder. It's also super demoralizing when you can see where you are going in the valley, but won't be there for 30 minutes since you're biking at 5.5 miles an hour into the wind. The

The first real day in Colorado wasn't much different than much of Kansas. Flat, towns every 30 miles. A good time to think about things or listen to music from the speaker on my iPhone. As such, it was so nice to stay with Gillian and Mark at their house in Ordway. Gillian's place is known as a safe haven for cyclists across the TransAm trail; she's a lively Kiwi who's done her own share of travelling, biking, hiking and sailing herself. When we arrived, some other folks were over to barbeque. We were able to grab some meat for burger and beer and jump right in. Gillian has a small farm and takes in WWOOF'ers, so we got to see all types of birds and goats and other exciting things. The small converted motor home that they let cyclists stay in also has the most comfortable mattresses ever. The next day we helped them move some telephone poles and chatted about stories for awhile. As we left, Gillian gave me solid hug #2 for the trip, and we moved on to West Pueblo.

We woke up in Rush Center, knowing full well that we had to fight the hard winds to our next location. The forecast was calling for 20-50 mph winds. To fight the winds, which came from our side most of the time, we rode side by side on the highway. The working rider got hit by the northern wind and fought to not get thrown into the other two bikers... the other two riders would rest on their side. We rotated positions every 5 minutes. And on we went into the wind, getting beat up, rotating, resting, getting beat up, etc. At Dighton we called it a day, where many motorists refered to us as "brave" or "stupid". We ate at the diner at the bowling alley and chatted some with our British friend Peter while we were staying at the park, who was also riding the same way. We were able to use the showers at the local pool, which provided flashbacks to the Barnesboro pool days of yore. The showers were even warm, providing you wanted to hit the 30 second push button shower eno

We woke up in Wichita, said our final goodbyes, and started rolling through the city and began cutting northwest back towards the TransAm trail by Hutchinson. Like most days after rest days, I felt slow and plodded along the highway. We stopped in Hutchinson, grabbed some Ice Cream and saw the exotic animal farm in Nickerson, our destination for the night. We made friends in the library with Gay, the librarian, and Phyllis. Phyllis thought that it might storm (it did), and she hooked us up and let us stay in the Senior Center. Unfortunately, most places in Nickerson were closed to eat by the time we got moseying (at 630 PM), so we had a cornucopia of food from the convenience store to eat. In the morning, we knew we had a solid tailwind coming and started jamming westward. The good news is that when you have an eastbound wind, you go really fast. The bad news is that when the eastern front and the western front collide, that the hammer is going to come down and it's going to stor

And so began Kansas. We were pretty lucky to have a tailwind through most of our first day in Kansas. We hopped off the TransAm route to go south to Fredonia and eventually to Wichita. Once we hit Fredonia, Jon met up with his girlfriend Tia while Dustin and I set up camp in the town park. While we were in the town park, we began hearing a cell phone ring somewhere in the park. Picking it up, we were able to let the woman know that her daughter's cell phone was somewhere in the park and that she could pick it up from us. This park was pretty awesome; it had all the dangerous things that most parks don't have anymore including 9 foot tall, metal slide. Something that looked like a combination of chains and tetherball The best tilt-a-whirl with sharp metal edges After Dustin took a try at the tilt-a-whirl, he encouraged me to give it a go as well. And so I began spinning, and spinning, and spinning. Not being one much for keeping my equilibrium, upon getting off the tilt-a-w

As the day started we caught a bit of rain heading out for our last little climbs out of Missouri. We got in from the rain at an awesome diner called "Cooky's Cafe", known across the TransAm for its amazing pies. I debated the merits of just ordering 7 different types of pies, but decided on a balanced lunch and got a sandwich and 2 slices of pie. Peach and Blueberry; I think I liked the blueberry a bit better. We rolled into Pittsburg, and I took an ironic picture since it's not really the real Pittsburg(h). Totally ironic?  We went to the park to check in, then went to the YMCA to take some showers. At the YMCA, I had this exchange with a teenage girl: Girl: Why are you on your trip? Mark: You know, to meet people, adventure, that kind of stuff. Girl: You're going to need to break that down for me, I'm not even in High School yet. Mark: Well, I guess then it's just cool to see America then. Girl: Where did you bike from? Mark: Virginia.