Yes, at long last I'm in Omaha. Thankfully right on schedule, with few aches and pains, and a chance for my saddle sores to heal. Here's what happened during the last four days of the journey:
Day 19: Up by 6:00 a.m., quick shower, and a breakfast of scrambled eggs and pancakes at the shelter. Made a modest donation and headed out for a 96 mile ride to Kearney. Winds were lighter, but still not at my back. Made good time to the first town of Maxwell, where five older men were playing an early morning card game at a little grocery store. "Hey, you're the guy on TV last night - say hello to Mr. Buffett." Cold drinks and back on the bike, arriving next in Gothenburg, a Pony Express town. City hall agreed to a birthday gift and card, and I raced off to Cozad, where they also signed onto the birthday project. By 1:00 p.m I was in Lexington, but the mayor's staff was at lunch, so I left a message asking if they would participate. I've learned that it makes a big difference if you actually meet the officials, because no towns contacted me if I left messages after I had already passed through (this happened when I arrived in towns too late to make it to city hall before they had closed.) Rode hard and steady to make it to Kearney's city hall before 5:00 p.m, barely making it after being sent to the wrong building more than once. A helpful mayoral assistant quickly put together a gift and card, but this time I had to take it with me, as the mail had already left for the day. Found an inexpensive motel, a grocery store, and settled in for a much needed rest. The big local news was the opening of the Nebraska State Fair in my next city, Grand Island, so I hatched a plan...
Day 20: A light 41-mile day ahead, so I did laundry first, leaving town around 8:30 a.m. The day went from "light" to "tough" due to stronger headwinds. Plodded along for about four hours. The only highlight of the day was my encounter, at the Gibbon, NE Subway shop, with a fellow long-distance biker. Not only that, but he was from Deltona, FL, ten miles from my old home. A retired Chicago transplant who spent 30 years working outdoors in the cold winters, he loves the Florida heat. Last March he hooked up a 100# cart to his Cannondale bike and headed west. Now he's been to Southern California, north to Sacramento, and is winding his way back east again, headed to Chicago. Roughly 5000 miles total so far, at an average of 40-50 a day. Slow and steady, but still impressive considering the weight he pulls. Unlike me, he has the luxury of days off if he feels the need. Also, he raises money for the Children's Hunger Fund. He told me about a website called crazyguysonabike.com, or something like that, for long-distance bikers all over the world, and mikeywalks.com, the website of a journalist who's walking across America. Arrived in Grand Island by 1:30 p.m., and headed straight for a Sonic, thirsty and hungry. Wal-Mart was a couple miles away, so it was time to work on my plan: a giant Warren Buffett birthday card signed by Nebraskans at the state fair. But not so fast. Wal-Mart had no huge birthday cards, so I called another place. They had them, but it was 7-8 miles one-way on the other side of the city. Still, this had to be done, so I raced up there. Didn't like the big cards they had, but I did like a 26"x22" poster with a birthday balloon border. By the time I reached the state fair it was 4:30. Went from place to place trying to get permission to set up somewhere, but got nowhere until I found the administration building. In typical bureaucratic fashion, I was told "No, because if we let you, we'll have to let everybody." I didn't bother to ask how many other people were likely to want to set up a birthday tribute to Warren Buffett, because it would have gone over their heads. But just at the edge of the fairgrounds, ten feet from the exit chutes, there was an empty 8' table which was just begging to be used. So I set up shop. And Nebraskans, signed and signed and signed until I had 55 signatures, all with their town names, and many with a birthday greeting. A full poster! In fact, some of the volunteers at the fair also signed, and I dodged expulsion for over 2-1/2 hours. Thank you, Nebraskans! Close to dark, and knowing the fair being in town would jack up motel rates, I prepared for a night of camping. But first a Mexican dinner. Immediately after ordering, I started getting severe pain on the left side of my abdomen. It got so bad I asked the waitress to cancel my order, and I stumbled outside and found some grass to lay down on. For the next 30-45 minutes I suffered so badly I nearly called 911 several times. I was pretty sure it wasn't my appendix (wrong side), but I couldn't figure out why it was so severe. I'd had gas pains before, but this was excruciating. Nothing I did seemed to relieve it, and I tried many things: elevating my legs, massaging my abdomen, stretching, walking, etc. Finally, as I was sitting on a concrete wall, leaning on my side, it started to subside. Rode quickly to Wal-Mart, bought a $15. sleeping bag, and camped on the edge of a cornfield behind the store. Then the pain came back, 80% as strong, but for only 15 minutes. Once it ended I fell asleep immediately and slept well.
Day 21: Up at daylight with no pain. Still don't know what caused it, but am guessing it was trapped gas. Went around front to buy fruit and yogurt for breakfast, asking a woman in the parking lot if she could use a one-night-old sleeping bag. She said yes, and offered me $5. I told her that it had probably saved me $50., so just take it for free and enjoy it. Fixed a flat from last night that I was too weak to deal with, and it was off to Lincoln, 92 miles away. My last long ride, and I wanted to get it over with, so I rode steadily, despite the ever-present wind. Thirty-some miles into it, the clouds started threatening rain, and just outside of York it started coming down steadily. Lightning kept getting closer and closer, until there were three different strikes with no time between the lightning and the thunder. Extremely close, maybe even overhead. One of them made my fingers tingle. Found shelter for 10 minutes in York, but no restaurants nearby, so I headed on to Seward, with skies gradually clearing. Somewhere soon, a sign said, "Lincoln - 41". I had 99 total miles left to go, so I did a Tour de France victory salute, putting both arms in the air while pedaling. The finish line was near! Seward was a nice small town with a beautiful courthouse and a sign that said Seward, Alaska - 4300+ miles. A quick lunch and... hills. One rolling hill after another, 30 or more of them, all the way into Lincoln. I had a motel coupon for $29., so I headed straight to the Luxury Inn. As I rolled up, the manager, who was outside on a smoke break, said, "Wow, I've never had anyone pull up on a bike." Then the guy next to him says, "Wait a minute, you're that guy." I said, "What guy?" He said, "The one on TV who came from California. I want to shake your hand." Well, it turned out that some station, and I still don't know which one (Lincoln? Omaha?) aired the North Platte segment. My new friend Russ couldn't remember, because he said he was just channel surfing at the time. When I asked the manager if there was any place nearby to rent a computer, Russ told me to take his laptop to my room and return it when I was ready. Good people. Had another Thai green curry dinner and rested for the evening.
Day 22: A late start for my final day after a big breakfast at Perkin's. 58 miles to Omaha. As I approached the edge of Lincoln, I received a call from Mark Sundermeier, Berkshire Hathaway's head of security. He asked if I'd be coming to Mr. Buffett's offices today, and I told him no, that I was heading for the Omaha World Herald building to gather the gifts and cards from all the city halls. I agreed to contact him before I went to the Kiewit Building where Warren Buffett has had his offices for decades, but I wasn't sure what day that would be. Once again there were rolling hills, and the ever-present headwind, albeit lighter than usual. Nevertheless, for 500 miles, since Fort Morgan, CO I haven't had the wind at my back even once. Steady 11 mph progress was made, and I pulled into a convenience store in Ashland to call Steve Jordon, the reporter at the OWH who had written four articles tracking my journey. I knew he was on vacation, but to my surprise he was in Gainesville, FL visiting his daughter. I strongly recommended him going to a Gator game at "The Swamp" since he'd never seen one there. The guys at the convenience store said "no charge" for my G2 energy drink (endorsed by the most famous Gator of all time, Tim Tebow). I told them what I was doing, and one young guy said, "I feel bad now because you're in such good shape." An hour or so later and I was on the west edge of Omaha, traveling north on Highway 6. My map showed Pacific Ave. as the most direct route into downtown Omaha, so I turned east. What followed was 18 miles of some of the toughest terrain of the whole trip. Omaha is definitely not a bike-friendly city. No bike lanes, the most fractured sidewalks I've seen anywhere, which often ended so that I had to switch to the other side of the street. But wait, there's more... that last 18 miles had no fewer than 30-40 hills, many of them quite steep, if only for a block or two. Nebraska's flat? Are you kidding! I thought I was in San Francisco. It took a couple of hours to navigate all this, and by the time I pulled up in front of the Omaha World Herald building in downtown Omaha, I was exhausted and about 45 minutes late for my meeting with Ross, the reporter who was standing in for the vacationing Steve Jordon. But the long journey was over! So many miles, 22 straight days without a full day off, but also many great people and stories. I'm very pleased that I took up David Adie's challenge to ride over halfway across America. And in a way it exorcised a demon from when I was 17, full of myself, so certain I could hike 2100+ miles on the Appalachian Trail in record time. That hike ended just shy of 400 miles, despite being physically tough enough to be breaking the record for the first 300 miles. But the boredom and isolation almost made me crack mentally, so I quit. This was my first major trek since then, and it felt good to finish it successfully. Ross arrived in the lobby with eight packages and envelopes from various city halls. Las Vegas and Denver came through, as did my hometown of Newport Beach, CA, then Idaho Springs, Glenwood Springs & Fort Morgan, CO, Gothenburg & Cozad, NE. A few missing, but maybe they're just late. Couldn't carry them all, so arranged to come back the next day. Went across the street to the library, but the "boss" wouldn't let me secure my bike, the first library that refused me on the whole trip. In general, there was a bit of big-city frostiness around me, which was disappointing, so I hid my bike in the parking garage of the Herald building. Once done at the library, I went to retrieve it, and found the garage locked. After being chewed out by the security guard, he let me in. Not sure where to stay, but in need of cheap lodging, I headed for a place called the Colonial Hotel, which I found on Craigslist. And where was the hotel in this very large city? Ironically, two blocks from Warren Buffett's office in the Kiewit Building. But first, a celebratory dinner at the Natural Kind Cafe, right across from the hotel. Deleicious and healthy, and much needed after a lot of inexpensive fast food. The Colonial had a gruff clerk right out of the movies, who's probably seen it all, telling me the weekly rate was $76. Seventy-six dollars!! I better look at a room first. But it was fine - bed, sink and dresser, bathroom down the hall. Clean but worn. With my budget, and after all the nights outside, it suited me just fine. Cash only, so I had to find an ATM down the street. A ten dollar key deposit, towel, washcloth and soap from the clerk, and I hauled my trusty Jamis bike up the back stairs. Home at last!?! I'd noticed a Fat Tire neon sign in a bar window a block away, so I popped out to celebrate with my new favorite beer. 60 cent tacos were on special, and a brand new Fat Tire bike hung from the ceiling. Omaha started feeling a little friendlier as I talked with a few patrons, and then it was off to bed.
Where Is Steve NOW?
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Tuesday, 30 August 2011
Thursday, 25 August 2011
Hello Nebraska!
Time to catch up on the past few days from the North Platte, Nebraska public library. Thank you ladies for letting me stay on the computer for a couple of hours!
Day 14: Up at 6:30 a.m., to hunt food and liquid in Vail. Starbucks opened at 7, so I had a mango smoothie and a breakfast sandwich. The climb to Vail Pass (10,666) began immediately on the edge of town, and it lasted for 14 miles, taking me 2 hours 35 minutes. Fantastic scenery on the way up, using an old highway that ran parallel to the freeway and was now bike-only. Six bikers with stronger legs, stronger lungs, and probably more acclimatized, passed me before the summit. The last one, Stephanie Samuelson of Eagle, CO yelled, "Don't stop, you're my rabbit. I've been following your blue shirt for miles." But we met again at the top, and talked philanthropy. She has ideas about getting professional athletes more involved in educational funding, so I told her to check out Andre Agassi's stellar work. Now it was time to drop, and what a ride it was, something I'll never, ever forget! We had a narrow bike path with constant curves, and Stephanie raced ahead like a champion skier. I couldn't keep up and feared a bad crash, but gradually gained confidence by mimicking her movements. By the time we rolled into Copper Mountain, I was right behind her. Turns out she was a skier, and that her daughter Caitlin is a potential Olympic skier who just got a college scholarship to ski for a Montana university. Stephanie wasn't sure where her daughter was picking her up, so I went on another wild ride down into the town of Frisco. Just as I got there, Stephanie appeared again, and she told me about a great restaurant there. Then she said, "See that skateboarder. He passed me on the way down." Unbelieveable! As fast as she rides, and a skateboarder with nothing to hold onto passed her. His coordination must be off the charts. Had my favorite breakfast at the Butterhorn Bakery, a double order of home fries with guacamole and salsa. Carbs for bikers. Stephanie's daughter appeared, goodbyes were said, and I was off to Keystone and the beginning of the mother of all climbs: Loveland Pass. 3500' feet of climbing to an elevation of 11,992. Once again it took 2 hours 35 minutes, but this time only 10 miles. I took 58 rest breaks of about a minute each on the way up, so about one every 300 yards. Halfway up it rained hard with small hail, and I had to take shelter for 15 minutes. The rest of the ride was cold and wet, but when I got to the top there were people clapping. One nice couple took a photo of me and my bike at the sign on top, and immediately emailed it to me. Another steep ride down, but not as fun as the last one, because I was on Highway 6 and had to be aware of cars passing me. Still, pretty thrilling. The next 30 miles into Idaho Springs was a series of bike paths, highways, and the freeway. Was very taken by the wild-west feel of old Georgetown, CO. By far the best day for scenic beauty and mountain towns where I'd like to spend more time. Mark thankfully had me set up in a motel, and the long day of mountain climbing was over.
Day 15: Waited for the Idaho Springs city hall to open, and they cooperated with a cool souvenir (can't tell yet) and card for Warren Buffett's 81st birthday. Just as I was leaving town, I filled my water bottles at a fast-food place. The teenage cashier told me he'd give me a senior discount. I asked what age you had to be, because I am 58. He looked at me with big eyes and said, "You're 58! You look so much younger." I told him that maybe that's what riding over 1000 miles does for you. He said, "I'm going to remember that." A few miles out of town I-70 veered off, and my Colorado bike map said no bikes were allowed. So I took Highway 6 to Golden, CO. A few miles on that and a tunnel appeared with no room for me on the two-lane road. I waited until the coast cleared and raced like a banshee through it. And then another one the same way. Five miles into this a highway worker told me there were three more tunnels ahead, and that I had to turn around and find another route, because I could "get killed". After considering my options, I went forward, hoping not to see him again. The two long tunnels had walkways for my bike, and the last short one I tore through again. Not something I'd want to do again, but the ride was all downhill and went quickly. Made Denver's edge by noon, riding 10 miles into the heart of the city. The mayor's office signed up for the birthday project, while sweet security guards watched my bike outside city hall. Had a nice ride through a large city park just north of downtown, then headed out of the city to get a jump on tomorrow's long day. A new interstate, I-76, would take me into Nebraska. But for exit after exit there were no motels, and it was getting dark. Finally found a Holiday Inn, but figured I couldn't afford it unless they gave me a deep discount. The desk clerk said she would "work with me", and offered me a government rate of $99., down from the usual $119. For a single! When did these prices get so high? Thanked her and headed immediately for Target, where I bought a cheap sleeping bag for $16. Armed for the night, I relaxed at Chili's for dinner. The waitress said she'd give me a happy hour special on two beers. What kind would I like? Looked above the bar and saw a neon bicycle and the words "Fat Tire". Perfect. My first beer since I'd left, and does that beer ever have a good flavor! It's now the official Warren Buffett Pilgrimage beer. Slept like a baby.
Day 16 - Stuffed the sleeping bag in its pouch and dropped it off in front of Target. Would like to have left it at a church or thrift store, but this mall (Prairie View?) was in the middle of nowhere. Sixty miles to Fort Morgan, and did they ever go quickly. For the first time on this journey, every mile felt effortless and enjoyable. I was averaging 20 miles an hour for 30 minute bursts, and 16-17 mph overall. Tens of thousands of grasshoppers on the road, with the occasional one jumping on my leg for a short ride. The high plains, all tall grass and grasshoppers. A nod to Clint Eastwood at the movie High Plains Drifter. I'm the modern version, on a bike instead of a horse. "Just passing through, ma'am." Fort Morgan, boyhood home of Glenn Miller. The mayor's office graciously agreed to the birthday project, and I caught up with emails at the library. After six straight days on the highway without a flat, I had one in town. The streak had ended, but it had been so nice not to be changing tires every day. The best I could do on a motel was $45., but I don't want to camp out two nights in a row. Excellent yellow curry with tofu at the Little Bamboo Thai restaurant, and a restful evening.
Day 17 - In the saddle by 7:00 a.m., picking up a spare tube at Wal-Mart on the way out of town. Just to make sure I didn't get complacent after yesterday's joyful ride, today's route threw a bunch of unpleasant obstacles in my way: a 100-mile ride, constant headwinds, 40 miles of the worst emergency lane so far, way too many hills for a highway that was supposed to be descending in altitude, and 95 degree heat. It felt like an Alice-in-Wonderland upside-down world. I had expected the wind to be behind me heading northeast, flat or downhill, moderate temperatures and smooth roads. Whenever all four of these obstacles were present simultaneously, I wanted to camp under an overpass and sleep. Except there wasn't a single overpass (shade) all day, another rarity. There were so many humps, wide cracks, gutters, minor gullies, gravel and road debris that my knees, butt, back and particularly neck took a beating. Not to mention wear and tear on the bike. Took breaks at every little town along the way, and they were too far apart. After 85 miles I pulled into Lucy's Diner in Sedgwick, CO. Salvaged the day with a big piece of my favorite pie, coconut cream, a la mode. Just baked and mighty good. Lucy asked me if I was riding 1600 miles to go see that "Buffett fellow" in concert. Made me burst out laughing. I told her that I wouldn't ride that far to see the Beatles if they all came back to life. No, this was Warren Buffett, not Jimmy Buffett. "Oh", she said, "that man is like religion to me. I agree with everything he says." When I told her about the birthday project, she wished she could send one of the long peacock feathers that sat in a vase above the counter. I told her to take a business card and offer something free to Mr. Buffett at the diner, so she did (can't tell again). These are presents no amount of money can buy. Turns out Lucy has been helping strangers for 25 years, with free meals if they needed one. She said she should have kept a guest book to record all the stories. I told her it was never too late. My waitress said the last 15 miles of freeway were no better, and said I should take the back route of Highway 138 into Julesburg, CO. Rolled in there just before dark, my 3rd or 4th toughest day. Lucy had recommended the Holiday Motel, and their $36. rate fit my budget. The owner loves Lucy's fried chicken, and said people come from miles around to eat there. She also said I had 20 minutes before the town's only grocery store closed. Never thought those $1. Banquet TV dinners could taste so good. Had three of them, a couple bowls of raisin bran, and watched the end of one of those Bourne movies with Matt Damon. Exhausted, but full. Bed at 10:00 p.m.
Day 18 - Four miles out of Julesburg, a big sign. Welcome to Nebraska - Home of the Arbor Day.
You've gotta like a state that plants a lot of trees. I'm very happy to be there. Still a fair amount of wind, but none of the other obstacles from yesterday. That is until the friendly, but firm, Nebraska highway patrolman said there would be zero, zip, nada, biking on the freeway in his state. And whereas he agreed it was probably safer, he said he didn't make the rules, only enforced them, and to exit and the next ramp. Before getting there, I stopped into the Nebraska tourist information building at a rest stop for a Nebraska map. The lady there said she wrote Warren Buffett 20 years ago with a question about some property, and he was nice enough to answer her personally. That had quite an impact on her, and she wished me all the best in getting to meet him. The freeway exit led straight to Ogalalla, NE, where I stopped into city hall. They too joined the birthday project. A woman came to the counter beside me and they asked her what she needed. She said she was there to interview me. I asked her how in the world did she find out I was there, and she said the rest stop lady called her newspaper right after I left. A quick interview, a couple pictures in front of city hall, and a note to myself to check Monday's paper, whatever it's called (?). Consigned to U.S. Highway 30 by the "authorities", I was very happy to find it had a shoulder almost as wide as the freeway, and much less traffic. Since it goes 300 miles to Omaha, that was great news. Churned my way in the constant wind to the town of Paxton, NE for lunch at the Windy Gap Grill. Had "lamb fries" for only the second time in my life. If you don't know what these are, I'm not telling. Two things happened just outside of Paxton. First, I felt finally felt humidity, as I moved into a different climate zone. Sweat now formed with less exertion from before, and I was reminded of Florida. Second, as I was taking a roadside break, a highway patrolman pulled up. My first thought was that he was kicking me off a U.S. highway, which would leave only cornfields to ride through! Instead, he was just checking to see if I was okay. We got to talking about my pilgrimage, and he told me to go see a guy named Ron Snell in North Platte, who runs a homeless shelter. Turns out that Ron rode a recumbent bike through all 93 Nebraskan counties awhile back, averaging 100 miles a day. Definitely decided to go see him. Not much further down the road I was met by Christina from KNOP-TV (NBC/North Platte), who filmed me a few times coming down the highway, and also did a 5-minute interview. Basic questions were asked about my pilgrimage, then it was back to riding. Arrived in North Platte around 6:30 p.m., missing the first evening news showing of the clip. The library allowed me to catch up this blog for a couple hours, and someone there said they'd seen me on the news. Found Ron Snell's homeless shelter, but he was sadly gone for the night. Mike, a former $80,000./yr. executive who lost his job and was now living there, invited me to stay. Once he donated to the shelter, now he helps run it. A sign of the times, but he was grateful for the experience, and genuinely seemed to enjoy being there. Went out to eat at a bar & grill, and the two women tending bar also recognized me from TV. Fifteen minutes of fame, as one wanted my autograph and a picture, "In case someday you're famous." A good salmon sandwich, a Fat Tire beer, and back to the shelter to catch the 10 o'clock news. But they didn't have cable, so I missed the clip again. Oh well. Off to bed on a sofa in the "entertainment room".
Day 14: Up at 6:30 a.m., to hunt food and liquid in Vail. Starbucks opened at 7, so I had a mango smoothie and a breakfast sandwich. The climb to Vail Pass (10,666) began immediately on the edge of town, and it lasted for 14 miles, taking me 2 hours 35 minutes. Fantastic scenery on the way up, using an old highway that ran parallel to the freeway and was now bike-only. Six bikers with stronger legs, stronger lungs, and probably more acclimatized, passed me before the summit. The last one, Stephanie Samuelson of Eagle, CO yelled, "Don't stop, you're my rabbit. I've been following your blue shirt for miles." But we met again at the top, and talked philanthropy. She has ideas about getting professional athletes more involved in educational funding, so I told her to check out Andre Agassi's stellar work. Now it was time to drop, and what a ride it was, something I'll never, ever forget! We had a narrow bike path with constant curves, and Stephanie raced ahead like a champion skier. I couldn't keep up and feared a bad crash, but gradually gained confidence by mimicking her movements. By the time we rolled into Copper Mountain, I was right behind her. Turns out she was a skier, and that her daughter Caitlin is a potential Olympic skier who just got a college scholarship to ski for a Montana university. Stephanie wasn't sure where her daughter was picking her up, so I went on another wild ride down into the town of Frisco. Just as I got there, Stephanie appeared again, and she told me about a great restaurant there. Then she said, "See that skateboarder. He passed me on the way down." Unbelieveable! As fast as she rides, and a skateboarder with nothing to hold onto passed her. His coordination must be off the charts. Had my favorite breakfast at the Butterhorn Bakery, a double order of home fries with guacamole and salsa. Carbs for bikers. Stephanie's daughter appeared, goodbyes were said, and I was off to Keystone and the beginning of the mother of all climbs: Loveland Pass. 3500' feet of climbing to an elevation of 11,992. Once again it took 2 hours 35 minutes, but this time only 10 miles. I took 58 rest breaks of about a minute each on the way up, so about one every 300 yards. Halfway up it rained hard with small hail, and I had to take shelter for 15 minutes. The rest of the ride was cold and wet, but when I got to the top there were people clapping. One nice couple took a photo of me and my bike at the sign on top, and immediately emailed it to me. Another steep ride down, but not as fun as the last one, because I was on Highway 6 and had to be aware of cars passing me. Still, pretty thrilling. The next 30 miles into Idaho Springs was a series of bike paths, highways, and the freeway. Was very taken by the wild-west feel of old Georgetown, CO. By far the best day for scenic beauty and mountain towns where I'd like to spend more time. Mark thankfully had me set up in a motel, and the long day of mountain climbing was over.
Day 15: Waited for the Idaho Springs city hall to open, and they cooperated with a cool souvenir (can't tell yet) and card for Warren Buffett's 81st birthday. Just as I was leaving town, I filled my water bottles at a fast-food place. The teenage cashier told me he'd give me a senior discount. I asked what age you had to be, because I am 58. He looked at me with big eyes and said, "You're 58! You look so much younger." I told him that maybe that's what riding over 1000 miles does for you. He said, "I'm going to remember that." A few miles out of town I-70 veered off, and my Colorado bike map said no bikes were allowed. So I took Highway 6 to Golden, CO. A few miles on that and a tunnel appeared with no room for me on the two-lane road. I waited until the coast cleared and raced like a banshee through it. And then another one the same way. Five miles into this a highway worker told me there were three more tunnels ahead, and that I had to turn around and find another route, because I could "get killed". After considering my options, I went forward, hoping not to see him again. The two long tunnels had walkways for my bike, and the last short one I tore through again. Not something I'd want to do again, but the ride was all downhill and went quickly. Made Denver's edge by noon, riding 10 miles into the heart of the city. The mayor's office signed up for the birthday project, while sweet security guards watched my bike outside city hall. Had a nice ride through a large city park just north of downtown, then headed out of the city to get a jump on tomorrow's long day. A new interstate, I-76, would take me into Nebraska. But for exit after exit there were no motels, and it was getting dark. Finally found a Holiday Inn, but figured I couldn't afford it unless they gave me a deep discount. The desk clerk said she would "work with me", and offered me a government rate of $99., down from the usual $119. For a single! When did these prices get so high? Thanked her and headed immediately for Target, where I bought a cheap sleeping bag for $16. Armed for the night, I relaxed at Chili's for dinner. The waitress said she'd give me a happy hour special on two beers. What kind would I like? Looked above the bar and saw a neon bicycle and the words "Fat Tire". Perfect. My first beer since I'd left, and does that beer ever have a good flavor! It's now the official Warren Buffett Pilgrimage beer. Slept like a baby.
Day 16 - Stuffed the sleeping bag in its pouch and dropped it off in front of Target. Would like to have left it at a church or thrift store, but this mall (Prairie View?) was in the middle of nowhere. Sixty miles to Fort Morgan, and did they ever go quickly. For the first time on this journey, every mile felt effortless and enjoyable. I was averaging 20 miles an hour for 30 minute bursts, and 16-17 mph overall. Tens of thousands of grasshoppers on the road, with the occasional one jumping on my leg for a short ride. The high plains, all tall grass and grasshoppers. A nod to Clint Eastwood at the movie High Plains Drifter. I'm the modern version, on a bike instead of a horse. "Just passing through, ma'am." Fort Morgan, boyhood home of Glenn Miller. The mayor's office graciously agreed to the birthday project, and I caught up with emails at the library. After six straight days on the highway without a flat, I had one in town. The streak had ended, but it had been so nice not to be changing tires every day. The best I could do on a motel was $45., but I don't want to camp out two nights in a row. Excellent yellow curry with tofu at the Little Bamboo Thai restaurant, and a restful evening.
Day 17 - In the saddle by 7:00 a.m., picking up a spare tube at Wal-Mart on the way out of town. Just to make sure I didn't get complacent after yesterday's joyful ride, today's route threw a bunch of unpleasant obstacles in my way: a 100-mile ride, constant headwinds, 40 miles of the worst emergency lane so far, way too many hills for a highway that was supposed to be descending in altitude, and 95 degree heat. It felt like an Alice-in-Wonderland upside-down world. I had expected the wind to be behind me heading northeast, flat or downhill, moderate temperatures and smooth roads. Whenever all four of these obstacles were present simultaneously, I wanted to camp under an overpass and sleep. Except there wasn't a single overpass (shade) all day, another rarity. There were so many humps, wide cracks, gutters, minor gullies, gravel and road debris that my knees, butt, back and particularly neck took a beating. Not to mention wear and tear on the bike. Took breaks at every little town along the way, and they were too far apart. After 85 miles I pulled into Lucy's Diner in Sedgwick, CO. Salvaged the day with a big piece of my favorite pie, coconut cream, a la mode. Just baked and mighty good. Lucy asked me if I was riding 1600 miles to go see that "Buffett fellow" in concert. Made me burst out laughing. I told her that I wouldn't ride that far to see the Beatles if they all came back to life. No, this was Warren Buffett, not Jimmy Buffett. "Oh", she said, "that man is like religion to me. I agree with everything he says." When I told her about the birthday project, she wished she could send one of the long peacock feathers that sat in a vase above the counter. I told her to take a business card and offer something free to Mr. Buffett at the diner, so she did (can't tell again). These are presents no amount of money can buy. Turns out Lucy has been helping strangers for 25 years, with free meals if they needed one. She said she should have kept a guest book to record all the stories. I told her it was never too late. My waitress said the last 15 miles of freeway were no better, and said I should take the back route of Highway 138 into Julesburg, CO. Rolled in there just before dark, my 3rd or 4th toughest day. Lucy had recommended the Holiday Motel, and their $36. rate fit my budget. The owner loves Lucy's fried chicken, and said people come from miles around to eat there. She also said I had 20 minutes before the town's only grocery store closed. Never thought those $1. Banquet TV dinners could taste so good. Had three of them, a couple bowls of raisin bran, and watched the end of one of those Bourne movies with Matt Damon. Exhausted, but full. Bed at 10:00 p.m.
Day 18 - Four miles out of Julesburg, a big sign. Welcome to Nebraska - Home of the Arbor Day.
You've gotta like a state that plants a lot of trees. I'm very happy to be there. Still a fair amount of wind, but none of the other obstacles from yesterday. That is until the friendly, but firm, Nebraska highway patrolman said there would be zero, zip, nada, biking on the freeway in his state. And whereas he agreed it was probably safer, he said he didn't make the rules, only enforced them, and to exit and the next ramp. Before getting there, I stopped into the Nebraska tourist information building at a rest stop for a Nebraska map. The lady there said she wrote Warren Buffett 20 years ago with a question about some property, and he was nice enough to answer her personally. That had quite an impact on her, and she wished me all the best in getting to meet him. The freeway exit led straight to Ogalalla, NE, where I stopped into city hall. They too joined the birthday project. A woman came to the counter beside me and they asked her what she needed. She said she was there to interview me. I asked her how in the world did she find out I was there, and she said the rest stop lady called her newspaper right after I left. A quick interview, a couple pictures in front of city hall, and a note to myself to check Monday's paper, whatever it's called (?). Consigned to U.S. Highway 30 by the "authorities", I was very happy to find it had a shoulder almost as wide as the freeway, and much less traffic. Since it goes 300 miles to Omaha, that was great news. Churned my way in the constant wind to the town of Paxton, NE for lunch at the Windy Gap Grill. Had "lamb fries" for only the second time in my life. If you don't know what these are, I'm not telling. Two things happened just outside of Paxton. First, I felt finally felt humidity, as I moved into a different climate zone. Sweat now formed with less exertion from before, and I was reminded of Florida. Second, as I was taking a roadside break, a highway patrolman pulled up. My first thought was that he was kicking me off a U.S. highway, which would leave only cornfields to ride through! Instead, he was just checking to see if I was okay. We got to talking about my pilgrimage, and he told me to go see a guy named Ron Snell in North Platte, who runs a homeless shelter. Turns out that Ron rode a recumbent bike through all 93 Nebraskan counties awhile back, averaging 100 miles a day. Definitely decided to go see him. Not much further down the road I was met by Christina from KNOP-TV (NBC/North Platte), who filmed me a few times coming down the highway, and also did a 5-minute interview. Basic questions were asked about my pilgrimage, then it was back to riding. Arrived in North Platte around 6:30 p.m., missing the first evening news showing of the clip. The library allowed me to catch up this blog for a couple hours, and someone there said they'd seen me on the news. Found Ron Snell's homeless shelter, but he was sadly gone for the night. Mike, a former $80,000./yr. executive who lost his job and was now living there, invited me to stay. Once he donated to the shelter, now he helps run it. A sign of the times, but he was grateful for the experience, and genuinely seemed to enjoy being there. Went out to eat at a bar & grill, and the two women tending bar also recognized me from TV. Fifteen minutes of fame, as one wanted my autograph and a picture, "In case someday you're famous." A good salmon sandwich, a Fat Tire beer, and back to the shelter to catch the 10 o'clock news. But they didn't have cable, so I missed the clip again. Oh well. Off to bed on a sofa in the "entertainment room".
Saturday, 20 August 2011
Greetings From Vail, Colorado
With 950 miles now behind me, it's time to catch up on the last five days. Seems it's getting harder all the time to find a computer and enough time to blog.
Day 9: Had my first leisurely morning, as this was the day I'd been waiting for: a 19 mile day. Donated $20. to Kevin for my room, telling him sorry I didn't have more. Good people helping others. Met with young news reporter Chad Hunt of the Richfield Reaper. He took pictures of me riding through downtown Richfield, then we went to city hall to talk about a gift and card for Warren Buffett. Everyone was friendly and agreed to participate. Had a great home-cooked meal at the Wonder Cafe, leaving late afternoon for another ride through the pleasant Sevier Valley, ending up in Salina, UT. by early evening. Mark had arranged a campground spot, but when I got there the office had closed. I needed some padding under me and a blanket on top, but no dice. Went to a convenience store and got a very light blanket, then slept in the front seat of an antique truck that sat adjacent to the campground. Had to improvise or spend another night in the damp and cold. It was cramped, but tolerable.
Day 10: Started riding at 7:00 a.m. after a large breakfast at Denny's. Mark (and Su) surprised me with a sizable donation, but it had to clear through PayPal to my bank account, which takes 3-4 days. Still, knowing that the money worries will be lifted soon is a great relief, allowing me to focus on just riding. This day promised to be a tough one, with 106 miles to Green River, 6000-7000' feet of vertical, and no water stops for 70 miles. Right off I had a 3000+ foot climb, but the air was cool and clear, and the scenery was beautiful. For the first time I went up a mountain with relative ease, reaching the top with energy to spare. Good thing, because after a nice downhill ride to a rest stop at the 30-mile mark, I had another 1500' climb. Drank all I could hold at the rest stop, and filled four water bottles. Utah chose not to put any drinking water at the four rest stops over the next 70 miles, so I had to conserve. Made very good time across the hot, dry terrain, and was donated one 17-oz. bottle of water by a Native American woman selling jewelry at one of the rest stops. Thank you! That was just enough extra water to get me safely into Green River by 7:00 p.m. Elated to have covered so many miles and climbs in 12 hours. Finally feel like a long-distance biker. Mark had a room reserved at the Robber's Roost Motel, where I talked at length about my mission with the owner, who said he'd be tracking my progress. Had a large spaghetti dinner at the Tamarisk Restaurant, a bath, then straight to bed, where I usually do 15 minutes of rejuvenating legs-up-the-wall, a Chinese exercise for tired legs.
Day 11: Another large breakfast in anticipation of a long, hot day. I'd dropped from 8000' feet to 4500' yesterday in Green River, which meant hotter weather for another 100+ mile day to Grand Junction, CO. Took a shortcut on a frontage road coming out of Green River, and it was a big mistake. Terrible cracked pavement and gravel covering it. Contacted Mark after a few miles to see when it intersected the freeway and he said "14 miles". Stuck. Then I had a flat. Off to a slow, frustrating start. The frontage road even turned to dirt for the last mile! Once on the freeway I made good time, stopping after 20 miles at the last water hole for 46 miles. Relatively flat terrain, so I tore into it while it was still in the 90's, trying to conserve water. Along the way, KPEX-TV in Grand Junction called to see about putting me on the 10 o'clock news. I was still 68 miles out when they first called, so could only guess at my arrival time. Unfortunately, the rest stop I'd raced to had no running water, and I was out. Got two bottles worth of "Minnesota water" from a man who pulled in, but that was all he had. Instead of pouring two bottles over me (it had been 100 or more for hours by then) drinking two, and filling four, I took off again with just two, only to run into a series of fairly lengthy hills. By the time I reached Fruita, CO 22 miles farther, I was pretty dehydrated. Had a Taco Bell meal, a lot of liquid, and raced off to meet Matt of KPEX by 7:00 p.m. The last few miles before reaching the Clarion Hotel Mark had reserved (nice 40% discount) there were strong swirling winds. Checked in with Matt, only to find out that I'd been bumped off the air due to a "severe weather warning". Hilarious. My two toughest days behind me, I relaxed in my comfortable room and dreamed of easier days. Halfway to Omaha!
Day 12: The ride from Grand Junction to Glenwood Springs, CO could not have been more different than the previous two days. Temperatures in the 70's, with the freeway meandering along the Colorado River. Left around 7:30 a.m. after a light breakfast. Felt inspired to do my first time-trial, pathetic by professional biking standards, but progress for me. Rode 16 miles the first hour in gradual uphill and a slight headwind. Was at 28 miles after two hours, and 46 after four hours, including a 20-minute pit stop. The miles melted away, and by 4:00 p.m. I'd covered 87 miles, with a total riding time of 7 hours. Increased elevation about 1100' as well. Glenwood Springs is very picturesque, with an enormous spring-fed pool I looked down upon from a bridge. Must have been 150 yards long, with hundreds of bathers enjoying themselves. Had time to visit city hall, meeting the city manager, who is also an avid biker. He gave me a Colorado biking map and agreed to the gift and card for Warren Buffett. Got a two-for-one deal on organic breakfast burritos at a local cafe, then headed a couple of miles out of town to a campground Mark had reserved, since Glenwood Springs motels start at $70. Well, I have to confess that I won't have ridden the complete 1600 miles: after walking my bike through my first freeway tunnel, a highway maintenance worker was waiting for me at the other end. He insisted on carrying me 1/2 mile to the next exit for my safety. Checked in at the Glenwood Springs Resort office for my outrageously priced $39. tent site, which was only dirt and a picnic table. The girl behind the desk started to give me a couple blankets, but her boss overruled her, so once again I had scant cover and no padding. It was also lightening off in the distance. Improvising again, I slept in one of the buses that ferry rafters back and forth. Good thing, as it rained for awhile. More comfortable than the pickup truck, but much less so than a room. Earlier on today, I finally asked the question of Steve Jordon that dozens of people have asked me: will Warren Buffett even be in Omaha when you arrive? He said he'd be checking this week, but that it appeared he would be. Also talked about the huge reaction to WB's op-ed column in the New York Times last week, where he said the rich should be taxed more. The debate has started and will probably not die down any time soon.
Day 13: Began the day at 6:30 a.m. on a magical 13-mile bike path through the Glenwood Canyon, winding back and forth under the most famous stretch of interstate in the U.S. Walls hundreds of feet high carved by the Colorado River. Chilly morning in the shadows, and strangely flat, with little energy for the first couple of hours. Also had 3300' of climbing to do before arriving in Vail, so the lack of oomph was telling. Took more breaks than usual, and encountered many bikers out for the weekend. Had a pancake breakfast in Gypsum at the 24-mile mark, then a fresh bagel at the Edwards Farmer's Market around 40 miles. A dozen miles more, in perfect weather, and I arrived at a Wal-Mart, where I ate a whole cantaloupe, a plum and a banana. All this food seemed to do the trick, and I arrived in West Vail by 5:00 p.m., having gone 59 miles. Spent most of the day on bike paths or U.S. 6, the first time this much distance was covered off-freeway since L.A. Did laundry, then asked the Holiday Inn if I could pay to use their computer to catch up here. They said "no charge", and even gave me a guest card if I wanted a shower and sauna. Very nice gesture. From there I roamed around Vail in the dark looking for an appropriate camping spot, because there was no way I could afford Vail prices for lodging ($150 on up to the stratosphere). Found a city park that had tents set up for some athletic event, so parked my bike under one with the flaps up and slept under a table. During the night a security guy came around with a walkie-talkie, and when he saw me relayed this message: "That bike there is worth more than my truck." Guess he assumed I was a bike racer waiting for the event, and mistakenly thought I had a $5,000-10,000 bike. Um, not even close, but he at least he let me sleep. At 8000' it got a bit chilly, but nothing too bad.
Day 9: Had my first leisurely morning, as this was the day I'd been waiting for: a 19 mile day. Donated $20. to Kevin for my room, telling him sorry I didn't have more. Good people helping others. Met with young news reporter Chad Hunt of the Richfield Reaper. He took pictures of me riding through downtown Richfield, then we went to city hall to talk about a gift and card for Warren Buffett. Everyone was friendly and agreed to participate. Had a great home-cooked meal at the Wonder Cafe, leaving late afternoon for another ride through the pleasant Sevier Valley, ending up in Salina, UT. by early evening. Mark had arranged a campground spot, but when I got there the office had closed. I needed some padding under me and a blanket on top, but no dice. Went to a convenience store and got a very light blanket, then slept in the front seat of an antique truck that sat adjacent to the campground. Had to improvise or spend another night in the damp and cold. It was cramped, but tolerable.
Day 10: Started riding at 7:00 a.m. after a large breakfast at Denny's. Mark (and Su) surprised me with a sizable donation, but it had to clear through PayPal to my bank account, which takes 3-4 days. Still, knowing that the money worries will be lifted soon is a great relief, allowing me to focus on just riding. This day promised to be a tough one, with 106 miles to Green River, 6000-7000' feet of vertical, and no water stops for 70 miles. Right off I had a 3000+ foot climb, but the air was cool and clear, and the scenery was beautiful. For the first time I went up a mountain with relative ease, reaching the top with energy to spare. Good thing, because after a nice downhill ride to a rest stop at the 30-mile mark, I had another 1500' climb. Drank all I could hold at the rest stop, and filled four water bottles. Utah chose not to put any drinking water at the four rest stops over the next 70 miles, so I had to conserve. Made very good time across the hot, dry terrain, and was donated one 17-oz. bottle of water by a Native American woman selling jewelry at one of the rest stops. Thank you! That was just enough extra water to get me safely into Green River by 7:00 p.m. Elated to have covered so many miles and climbs in 12 hours. Finally feel like a long-distance biker. Mark had a room reserved at the Robber's Roost Motel, where I talked at length about my mission with the owner, who said he'd be tracking my progress. Had a large spaghetti dinner at the Tamarisk Restaurant, a bath, then straight to bed, where I usually do 15 minutes of rejuvenating legs-up-the-wall, a Chinese exercise for tired legs.
Day 11: Another large breakfast in anticipation of a long, hot day. I'd dropped from 8000' feet to 4500' yesterday in Green River, which meant hotter weather for another 100+ mile day to Grand Junction, CO. Took a shortcut on a frontage road coming out of Green River, and it was a big mistake. Terrible cracked pavement and gravel covering it. Contacted Mark after a few miles to see when it intersected the freeway and he said "14 miles". Stuck. Then I had a flat. Off to a slow, frustrating start. The frontage road even turned to dirt for the last mile! Once on the freeway I made good time, stopping after 20 miles at the last water hole for 46 miles. Relatively flat terrain, so I tore into it while it was still in the 90's, trying to conserve water. Along the way, KPEX-TV in Grand Junction called to see about putting me on the 10 o'clock news. I was still 68 miles out when they first called, so could only guess at my arrival time. Unfortunately, the rest stop I'd raced to had no running water, and I was out. Got two bottles worth of "Minnesota water" from a man who pulled in, but that was all he had. Instead of pouring two bottles over me (it had been 100 or more for hours by then) drinking two, and filling four, I took off again with just two, only to run into a series of fairly lengthy hills. By the time I reached Fruita, CO 22 miles farther, I was pretty dehydrated. Had a Taco Bell meal, a lot of liquid, and raced off to meet Matt of KPEX by 7:00 p.m. The last few miles before reaching the Clarion Hotel Mark had reserved (nice 40% discount) there were strong swirling winds. Checked in with Matt, only to find out that I'd been bumped off the air due to a "severe weather warning". Hilarious. My two toughest days behind me, I relaxed in my comfortable room and dreamed of easier days. Halfway to Omaha!
Day 12: The ride from Grand Junction to Glenwood Springs, CO could not have been more different than the previous two days. Temperatures in the 70's, with the freeway meandering along the Colorado River. Left around 7:30 a.m. after a light breakfast. Felt inspired to do my first time-trial, pathetic by professional biking standards, but progress for me. Rode 16 miles the first hour in gradual uphill and a slight headwind. Was at 28 miles after two hours, and 46 after four hours, including a 20-minute pit stop. The miles melted away, and by 4:00 p.m. I'd covered 87 miles, with a total riding time of 7 hours. Increased elevation about 1100' as well. Glenwood Springs is very picturesque, with an enormous spring-fed pool I looked down upon from a bridge. Must have been 150 yards long, with hundreds of bathers enjoying themselves. Had time to visit city hall, meeting the city manager, who is also an avid biker. He gave me a Colorado biking map and agreed to the gift and card for Warren Buffett. Got a two-for-one deal on organic breakfast burritos at a local cafe, then headed a couple of miles out of town to a campground Mark had reserved, since Glenwood Springs motels start at $70. Well, I have to confess that I won't have ridden the complete 1600 miles: after walking my bike through my first freeway tunnel, a highway maintenance worker was waiting for me at the other end. He insisted on carrying me 1/2 mile to the next exit for my safety. Checked in at the Glenwood Springs Resort office for my outrageously priced $39. tent site, which was only dirt and a picnic table. The girl behind the desk started to give me a couple blankets, but her boss overruled her, so once again I had scant cover and no padding. It was also lightening off in the distance. Improvising again, I slept in one of the buses that ferry rafters back and forth. Good thing, as it rained for awhile. More comfortable than the pickup truck, but much less so than a room. Earlier on today, I finally asked the question of Steve Jordon that dozens of people have asked me: will Warren Buffett even be in Omaha when you arrive? He said he'd be checking this week, but that it appeared he would be. Also talked about the huge reaction to WB's op-ed column in the New York Times last week, where he said the rich should be taxed more. The debate has started and will probably not die down any time soon.
Day 13: Began the day at 6:30 a.m. on a magical 13-mile bike path through the Glenwood Canyon, winding back and forth under the most famous stretch of interstate in the U.S. Walls hundreds of feet high carved by the Colorado River. Chilly morning in the shadows, and strangely flat, with little energy for the first couple of hours. Also had 3300' of climbing to do before arriving in Vail, so the lack of oomph was telling. Took more breaks than usual, and encountered many bikers out for the weekend. Had a pancake breakfast in Gypsum at the 24-mile mark, then a fresh bagel at the Edwards Farmer's Market around 40 miles. A dozen miles more, in perfect weather, and I arrived at a Wal-Mart, where I ate a whole cantaloupe, a plum and a banana. All this food seemed to do the trick, and I arrived in West Vail by 5:00 p.m., having gone 59 miles. Spent most of the day on bike paths or U.S. 6, the first time this much distance was covered off-freeway since L.A. Did laundry, then asked the Holiday Inn if I could pay to use their computer to catch up here. They said "no charge", and even gave me a guest card if I wanted a shower and sauna. Very nice gesture. From there I roamed around Vail in the dark looking for an appropriate camping spot, because there was no way I could afford Vail prices for lodging ($150 on up to the stratosphere). Found a city park that had tents set up for some athletic event, so parked my bike under one with the flaps up and slept under a table. During the night a security guy came around with a walkie-talkie, and when he saw me relayed this message: "That bike there is worth more than my truck." Guess he assumed I was a bike racer waiting for the event, and mistakenly thought I had a $5,000-10,000 bike. Um, not even close, but he at least he let me sleep. At 8000' it got a bit chilly, but nothing too bad.
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
600 Miles Down, 1000 To Go - Richfield, UT
As I write, it is almost noon in Richfield, UT. Still on schedule after 8 days, with a blessedly light ride of only 19 miles later today to Salina, UT, giving my aching body a much needed rest. Have now covered over 600 miles, and am nearly 40% of the way to Omaha. Here's what's happened over the last five days:
Day 4- Left Baker, CA at 6:45 a.m. to beat the Mojave Desert heat. Immediately had 18 miles of steady uphill climbing on the Baker Grade, a hill so difficult that they test new semis on it. That took a few hours. Had an 8 mile downhill, only to have to climb 9 miles again. Those 27 miles of hills trashed my schedule and seriously depleted my energy level. On top of that, it was now over 100 degrees, and Las Vegas was still 65 miles away. At a rest stop, talked to Steven Jordon of the Omaha World Herald, and he said Warren Buffett's security people had asked for my contact information. I took that as a good sign. Also had a nice chat with the Las Vegas mayor's office, who agreed to send a gift and card for WB's 81st birthday. They referred me to the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, but the business editor wouldn't run a story because I couldn't reveal the idea I hope to share with WB. Hours more of desolate desert and I arrived in Primm, Nevada. Helpful lady at the visitor's bureau, lots of cold drinks, and a lead on a cheap motel. Ground out the final 41 miles to Vegas in steadily dropping temperatures, but didn't arrive until dark, so exhausted I could barely walk. $32. room at Terrible's Casino Hotel. Soaked in the tub, then had a late, great Chinese meal across the street at PF Chang's. A day so difficult that I would not be able to survive two in a row like it. Collapsed into bed around midnight. My good buddy Mark Townsend, in England, signed on today as my "virtual road team", tracking my progress by text message and cell phone. I didn't even take out on him my displeasure about today's grueling pace, but I can't promise anything in the future. He also added the cool progress map on this blog, and the blurry photo (we'll try to improve on that).
Day 5- Started late, due to being sore and tired. Also woke up to an overnight flat, the first in two days. Fixed it and headed out around 9:30 a.m. Got about two miles and had another flat. Nuisance, but it happens. Six miles later, I had another one. What is going on? Didn't see any more debris in the Vegas streets than usual, but kept running over tiny wires. The flats are maddening, as it takes 20 minutes to change each one, but it could have been worse. I could have been in the middle of nowhere. Instead, the last flat happened right in front of WalMart, where I bought two more tubes. Almost noon by the time I got to the edge of Vegas, with 68 miles to go to Mesquite, a very long distance to cover by dark. At the junction of I-15 I'd expected a gas station to reload my water bottles, but there wasn't any, and it was now 100 degrees or more. Asked a guy on the entrance ramp how far the next exit was, and instead he gave me three bottles of frozen water, even cutting up the ice to put in my bottles. Then he said I should have a pocketknife, and threw that in. Dwayne, you're a good man! Made steady progress all afternoon, taking short rests and drinking constantly. Made Glendale by late afternoon, but had another flat coming off the interstate. Met a father-and-son motorcycle team from San Pedro, CA who were just returning from the huge Sturgis, SD bike rally. They took interest in my adventure, so I dawdled a little too long, misjudging the exact time of sunset. They also gave me $10. and a bottle of water. 18 miles from Mesquite it was totally dark, so I had to do something I said I'd never do: ride the interstate at night. Between the little red reflector on my bike, the full moon, the relatively light traffic, and a whole lot of prayers, I made it safely into Mesquite by 9:30 p.m. Earlier in the day I'd called the Mesquite Chamber of Commerce to see if they could help me get a free or 1/2 off room, and a very helpful lady named Ann gave me a bunch of names and numbers. Only one offered anything, but they thought they would be full. On the edge of Mesquite, I called them again to see if there had been any cancellations, and... I got a free, luxurious room at the Eureka Casino Hotel. Thank you Ally, Tessa and Dwayne. Once again I ate a very late, and much needed dinner, in the casino. I felt like the desert nomads who reach and oasis and feel like they're in heaven. Story: there was a 6' x 20' aquarium as I entered the main casino, and I became mesmerized by a little 6" fish, blue with yellow along the top, and tiny yellow fins. It would swim up to the top of the tank and circle back around to the bottom, about a 5' climb each time. It did this at least 50 times while I stood there, and was still going when I left. Seemed to be doing it just for the sheer joy of it, even though none of the other fish were. That little fish inspired me to keep going!
Day 6 - Another somewhat late start after loading up at the breakfast buffet. No problem, as I had only 38 miles to St. George, UT. Finally a light day, where I could stop early and rest my body. Or so I thought. First, I needed two new inner tubes, and the WalMart was three miles, and a series of hills, in the opposite direction. Then Mark tells me the bike shop in St. George said that the stretch of 1-15 ahead went through canyons with no emergency lane, which is suicidal. I needed to go the back route, adding 10 miles. No problem. Especially since the beautiful young latina cashier at the gas station had called me "honey". Well, the climb from Littlefield to St. George was at least as hard as the Baker Grade, and felt like over 3000'. It took 17 miles and 4-5 exhausting hours to get over. Then a long descent into the beautiful red rocks and quaint town of Santa Clara. Missed my appointment at the bike shop by 1/2 hour, where Mark had generously donated the money to buy me two Gator Hardshell tires and rubber liners, the best weapons against flats known to bikers. Ryan at Red Rock Bikes dropped off the tires at the Sands Motel (also paid by Mark - thank you!), and once again I collapsed into bed after a banana milk shake and turkey burger. So much for my "light" day. Ended up being 54 miles and a pain-inducing climb.
Day 7- Up early to do laundry and switch to the new tires. By the time I got going, Red Rock Bikes was open, so I stopped in to have my derailleur cables adjusted, something that was supposed to have been done at 200 miles on a new bike, and I was now over 400. In fact, I'd lost 10 gears (out of 20) by not being able to shift to my smaller sprocket. It took them all of five minutes for the adjustment, and they said everything else on my reliable Jamis bike was just fine. Next stop: Parowan, UT, about 70 miles away. A fairly uneventful day, other than having to grind out miles under the pressure of having too little time before darkness. Seems that something (sheer fatigue, flat tires, etc.) always conspires to make me leave late, which means fewer rest periods. It's made my body stronger, faster, but also left me tired and vulnerable to injury. The elevation increased from just under 3000' to nearly 6000' in Parawon, so there were some considerable climbs. Once again was forced to ride in darkness, but only 6 miles this time. The cause? My new tires didn't prevent yet another flat, just on the edge of Cedar City. Couldn't afford a motel, and had told Mark not to reserve me one before he went to bed (7 hours ahead of me), because I wasn't sure I'd make it to Parawon. Had a late dinner at a truckstop, then decided it was warm enough to sleep under the stars. Found a field of alfalfa (?) near the truckstop, and put on all my extra clothes. Bad plan. First a heavy dew wet me, then the temperature dropped. Throw in some mosquitoes, and it was a miserable night. Highlight of the day: Mark figured out how to map the elevations along my route, and started texted them to me so that I now know where all my climbs and descents will be during the day. Good job, Mark! Second article in the Omaha World Leader by Steve Jordon about my progress. Hope WB is reading them!
Day 8 - Up at dawn with a scary day ahead - 97 miles and thousands of feet of hill climbs. Knocked off the first 33 miles from Parowan to Beaver in a few hours, then had a delicious Chinese lunch, took a nap to make up for last night, and tanked up on fluids. The girl at the gas station said "no charge" for my lemonade. (Thank you.) Unfortunately, she also told me there was no place for water for the next 48 miles, by far the longest distance I'd ever had to go. Filled up my belly and my three bottles and headed out, trying to conserve in the hot weather (90's). Encountered my steepest climb yet just after leaving 1-15 for 1-70 (Denver, here I come). By the time I summitted, I was a 7180', and my legs were like jelly. Coasted for 15 miles into the town of Joseph, and had a big root beer and a bag of chips at a gas station/convenience store. The owner took interest in my pilgrimage, asking lots of questions, and for the second time today I wasn't allowed to pay for my food. (Thank you again.) Tire was half-flat as I pulled out of Joseph onto the very pleasant back road to Richfield. Too lazy to change the tire, so I pumped it up 3-4 times over the next 13 miles, traveling through the verdant Sevier Valley, the first real green I've seen on this trip. Again, no motel reservations, and no freebies offered, but Mark (who is also now my advance man!) lined up an interview with the Richfield Reaper and a visit with the mayor for tomorrow. All motels around $40., so pondered another night under the stars, but this time I'd buy a throwaway foam pad and light blanket at WalMart. First though, I'd attempt to get the Royal Inn to discount a room. No vacancy, but noticed an adjacent building that looked like it was once owned by the Inn, but had fallen on hard times. Lee, the Royal Inn owner, said it was now part of a ministry that took in the homeless and ministers who needed a break. He called to see if they could put me up, and within minutes I had a group of people making a bed, giving me towels, bringing me a pasta dinner, and generally being wonderful. A modest room, for sure, but a deluxe suite compared to last night. Later, Kevin, the manager, brought me two Clif bars and two bottles of water. Slept like a baby! (Thank you more than ever!)
Day 4- Left Baker, CA at 6:45 a.m. to beat the Mojave Desert heat. Immediately had 18 miles of steady uphill climbing on the Baker Grade, a hill so difficult that they test new semis on it. That took a few hours. Had an 8 mile downhill, only to have to climb 9 miles again. Those 27 miles of hills trashed my schedule and seriously depleted my energy level. On top of that, it was now over 100 degrees, and Las Vegas was still 65 miles away. At a rest stop, talked to Steven Jordon of the Omaha World Herald, and he said Warren Buffett's security people had asked for my contact information. I took that as a good sign. Also had a nice chat with the Las Vegas mayor's office, who agreed to send a gift and card for WB's 81st birthday. They referred me to the Las Vegas Sun newspaper, but the business editor wouldn't run a story because I couldn't reveal the idea I hope to share with WB. Hours more of desolate desert and I arrived in Primm, Nevada. Helpful lady at the visitor's bureau, lots of cold drinks, and a lead on a cheap motel. Ground out the final 41 miles to Vegas in steadily dropping temperatures, but didn't arrive until dark, so exhausted I could barely walk. $32. room at Terrible's Casino Hotel. Soaked in the tub, then had a late, great Chinese meal across the street at PF Chang's. A day so difficult that I would not be able to survive two in a row like it. Collapsed into bed around midnight. My good buddy Mark Townsend, in England, signed on today as my "virtual road team", tracking my progress by text message and cell phone. I didn't even take out on him my displeasure about today's grueling pace, but I can't promise anything in the future. He also added the cool progress map on this blog, and the blurry photo (we'll try to improve on that).
Day 5- Started late, due to being sore and tired. Also woke up to an overnight flat, the first in two days. Fixed it and headed out around 9:30 a.m. Got about two miles and had another flat. Nuisance, but it happens. Six miles later, I had another one. What is going on? Didn't see any more debris in the Vegas streets than usual, but kept running over tiny wires. The flats are maddening, as it takes 20 minutes to change each one, but it could have been worse. I could have been in the middle of nowhere. Instead, the last flat happened right in front of WalMart, where I bought two more tubes. Almost noon by the time I got to the edge of Vegas, with 68 miles to go to Mesquite, a very long distance to cover by dark. At the junction of I-15 I'd expected a gas station to reload my water bottles, but there wasn't any, and it was now 100 degrees or more. Asked a guy on the entrance ramp how far the next exit was, and instead he gave me three bottles of frozen water, even cutting up the ice to put in my bottles. Then he said I should have a pocketknife, and threw that in. Dwayne, you're a good man! Made steady progress all afternoon, taking short rests and drinking constantly. Made Glendale by late afternoon, but had another flat coming off the interstate. Met a father-and-son motorcycle team from San Pedro, CA who were just returning from the huge Sturgis, SD bike rally. They took interest in my adventure, so I dawdled a little too long, misjudging the exact time of sunset. They also gave me $10. and a bottle of water. 18 miles from Mesquite it was totally dark, so I had to do something I said I'd never do: ride the interstate at night. Between the little red reflector on my bike, the full moon, the relatively light traffic, and a whole lot of prayers, I made it safely into Mesquite by 9:30 p.m. Earlier in the day I'd called the Mesquite Chamber of Commerce to see if they could help me get a free or 1/2 off room, and a very helpful lady named Ann gave me a bunch of names and numbers. Only one offered anything, but they thought they would be full. On the edge of Mesquite, I called them again to see if there had been any cancellations, and... I got a free, luxurious room at the Eureka Casino Hotel. Thank you Ally, Tessa and Dwayne. Once again I ate a very late, and much needed dinner, in the casino. I felt like the desert nomads who reach and oasis and feel like they're in heaven. Story: there was a 6' x 20' aquarium as I entered the main casino, and I became mesmerized by a little 6" fish, blue with yellow along the top, and tiny yellow fins. It would swim up to the top of the tank and circle back around to the bottom, about a 5' climb each time. It did this at least 50 times while I stood there, and was still going when I left. Seemed to be doing it just for the sheer joy of it, even though none of the other fish were. That little fish inspired me to keep going!
Day 6 - Another somewhat late start after loading up at the breakfast buffet. No problem, as I had only 38 miles to St. George, UT. Finally a light day, where I could stop early and rest my body. Or so I thought. First, I needed two new inner tubes, and the WalMart was three miles, and a series of hills, in the opposite direction. Then Mark tells me the bike shop in St. George said that the stretch of 1-15 ahead went through canyons with no emergency lane, which is suicidal. I needed to go the back route, adding 10 miles. No problem. Especially since the beautiful young latina cashier at the gas station had called me "honey". Well, the climb from Littlefield to St. George was at least as hard as the Baker Grade, and felt like over 3000'. It took 17 miles and 4-5 exhausting hours to get over. Then a long descent into the beautiful red rocks and quaint town of Santa Clara. Missed my appointment at the bike shop by 1/2 hour, where Mark had generously donated the money to buy me two Gator Hardshell tires and rubber liners, the best weapons against flats known to bikers. Ryan at Red Rock Bikes dropped off the tires at the Sands Motel (also paid by Mark - thank you!), and once again I collapsed into bed after a banana milk shake and turkey burger. So much for my "light" day. Ended up being 54 miles and a pain-inducing climb.
Day 7- Up early to do laundry and switch to the new tires. By the time I got going, Red Rock Bikes was open, so I stopped in to have my derailleur cables adjusted, something that was supposed to have been done at 200 miles on a new bike, and I was now over 400. In fact, I'd lost 10 gears (out of 20) by not being able to shift to my smaller sprocket. It took them all of five minutes for the adjustment, and they said everything else on my reliable Jamis bike was just fine. Next stop: Parowan, UT, about 70 miles away. A fairly uneventful day, other than having to grind out miles under the pressure of having too little time before darkness. Seems that something (sheer fatigue, flat tires, etc.) always conspires to make me leave late, which means fewer rest periods. It's made my body stronger, faster, but also left me tired and vulnerable to injury. The elevation increased from just under 3000' to nearly 6000' in Parawon, so there were some considerable climbs. Once again was forced to ride in darkness, but only 6 miles this time. The cause? My new tires didn't prevent yet another flat, just on the edge of Cedar City. Couldn't afford a motel, and had told Mark not to reserve me one before he went to bed (7 hours ahead of me), because I wasn't sure I'd make it to Parawon. Had a late dinner at a truckstop, then decided it was warm enough to sleep under the stars. Found a field of alfalfa (?) near the truckstop, and put on all my extra clothes. Bad plan. First a heavy dew wet me, then the temperature dropped. Throw in some mosquitoes, and it was a miserable night. Highlight of the day: Mark figured out how to map the elevations along my route, and started texted them to me so that I now know where all my climbs and descents will be during the day. Good job, Mark! Second article in the Omaha World Leader by Steve Jordon about my progress. Hope WB is reading them!
Day 8 - Up at dawn with a scary day ahead - 97 miles and thousands of feet of hill climbs. Knocked off the first 33 miles from Parowan to Beaver in a few hours, then had a delicious Chinese lunch, took a nap to make up for last night, and tanked up on fluids. The girl at the gas station said "no charge" for my lemonade. (Thank you.) Unfortunately, she also told me there was no place for water for the next 48 miles, by far the longest distance I'd ever had to go. Filled up my belly and my three bottles and headed out, trying to conserve in the hot weather (90's). Encountered my steepest climb yet just after leaving 1-15 for 1-70 (Denver, here I come). By the time I summitted, I was a 7180', and my legs were like jelly. Coasted for 15 miles into the town of Joseph, and had a big root beer and a bag of chips at a gas station/convenience store. The owner took interest in my pilgrimage, asking lots of questions, and for the second time today I wasn't allowed to pay for my food. (Thank you again.) Tire was half-flat as I pulled out of Joseph onto the very pleasant back road to Richfield. Too lazy to change the tire, so I pumped it up 3-4 times over the next 13 miles, traveling through the verdant Sevier Valley, the first real green I've seen on this trip. Again, no motel reservations, and no freebies offered, but Mark (who is also now my advance man!) lined up an interview with the Richfield Reaper and a visit with the mayor for tomorrow. All motels around $40., so pondered another night under the stars, but this time I'd buy a throwaway foam pad and light blanket at WalMart. First though, I'd attempt to get the Royal Inn to discount a room. No vacancy, but noticed an adjacent building that looked like it was once owned by the Inn, but had fallen on hard times. Lee, the Royal Inn owner, said it was now part of a ministry that took in the homeless and ministers who needed a break. He called to see if they could put me up, and within minutes I had a group of people making a bed, giving me towels, bringing me a pasta dinner, and generally being wonderful. A modest room, for sure, but a deluxe suite compared to last night. Later, Kevin, the manager, brought me two Clif bars and two bottles of water. Slept like a baby! (Thank you more than ever!)
Thursday, 11 August 2011
Update from Baker, CA
As I write, it's 10:25 p.m., and I'm in Baker, CA. It's hard to find time to write after a long day on the bike, but I'll try to do so every few days.
So far, so good. On schedule after 3 days 215 miles.
Day 1 out of Newport Beach to Fontana was made more enjoyable by having 30 miles of bike path along the Santa Ana River. (Thank you, bike planners.) A few unnecessary miles after that trying to decipher the best route with a so-so map, but still managed around 75 miles. Of course, butt pain is the worst, sometimes wickedly painful, but the calves and knees were okay. Neck and shoulders a little painful leaning forward all the time on my smooth Jamis bike. Mistakenly thought each interstate exit would have motels, but after two different ones having none, and it being after dark, I had to sleep outside behind a Jack-in-the-Box. A patch of grass that was moderately comfortable until sprinklers came on and partially soaked me. Had to put on all my clothes and still had a cold, restless night! Oh, and one flat tire today.
Day 2 started with the 4100' Cajon Pass climb. A long time cyclist told me that it would "kick my ass", but I took it in little bites and it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought. Glad to know I have it in me to climb long grades, because the Rockies are ahead. Got kicked off I-15 twice by CHP (California Hwy. Patrol) but didn't get cited. These detours cost me extra miles. Roughly an 80-mile day, which put me in Barstow around 5 p.m. 105 degrees when I arrived, but it didn't feel that hot, as I was drinking water constantly. Discovered I lost my cell phone charger, most likely during my crazy night outside. Was also down to $20., having started with only $60. (and a lot of faith). Had to buy bike gloves yesterday, as hands were sore ($18.) The rest on cheap food and beverages. Absent-mindedly lost $17.(after finding $5.41 by the roadside) so I was down to $2. I chalk that up to fatigue. Got to stay at Economy Motel, compliments of Mark & Su in England, so at least I got a good night's sleep. More knee and neck pain.
Day 3 I awoke to two more flats that had slow-leaked overnight. Spent well over an hour patching tubes. My great buddy Shawn in Florida came through with some much needed money (a loan), so I got another phone charger and headed into the Mojave Desert at the way-too-late hour of 11:00 a.m., nervous about the temperatures ahead. Rode stronger today though, and making good progress while it was in the 80's and 90's, and having only 63 miles to cover today . By the time I got 12 miles from Baker it was 110, but I was still pretty fresh and well-hydrated. Baker has the world's tallest thermometer (134'), one foot for every degree to commemorate the time it was 134 in nearby Death Valley. When I arrived in Baker it was 114, and it was beginning to affect my breathing a little. In town early enough to nap, eat a great souvlaki at the Mad Greek restaurant, and catch up on emails. Tomorrow, a 92-mile ride to Las Vegas, but will leave around daybreak (5:45 a.m.) to beat the heat. Hello to everyone, and thank you for your encouragement.
Monday, 8 August 2011
Leaving in 7 hours...
Despite some rather disappointing fundraising, this pilgrimage will start on time, tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. Hallelujah!
It seems that there have been two distinct groups: Those who really want to help but are too broke, and those who could easily have helped, but weren’t interested, for whatever reason. Just another lesson learned in raising money.
Although I’m still hopeful that donations will come in even after today, I’m even more certain about the “kindness of strangers”. Now that the planning is done, and the journey can begin, it’s the people I encounter in the towns and cities along the way that will make it possible for me to arrive in Omaha.
It’s with great relief that I can now ride every day, and not have to fundraise, which to me is the hardest part. There will be tests on the road, but also great joy.
Thank you to all those who made it possible for me to get this far: Wade, Gianfranco, Toan, Gordon, Mike, Meredith, Mark. And thank you to everyone who wished me well, or offered blessings and prayers.
I will try to find time to bring news about my pilgrimage every 2-3 days. Onward!
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