Day 29 Topeka, KS to St. Joseph, MO   90 miles and 3700 feet of climb

It was forecasted to be another blistering hot day in the heartland as we rode out of the Holiday Inn Express in Topeka, KS bound for St. Joseph, MO, some 90 miles away. As we did yesterday, we started at 6:30 AM  (half an hour earlier than we typically do) to get a jump on the midday heat.

Because of flooding along some of our planned route to St. Joseph and the lack of a viable alternate route, the support staff was forced to shuttle us around the flooded 3 mile stretch of our route. The Brits asked me to join them and young Zak in the morning for the ride to where we would have to be shuttled ( the 57th mile of the day's journey) because the staff needed to shuttle us in groups of 7.

At about mile 15, Alan of the British team got a flat. I rode ahead, knowing they would be on my tail soon enough. I rode with Doug from Petaluma for a while and then rode by myself until the 57-mile mark where I waited for Zak and the British National Cycling Team- Masters Division. They arrived in short order. Tour director Jim loaded our bikes on to the bike racks located on the roof of the van, and we were off for the 35-minute shuttle around the flooded area of the route.

During the shuttle ride, we passed the United States Penitentiary at Leavenworth. As I looked at the facade of that ominous prison compound, I thought, "I wonder if Bernie Madoff is in there playing cards or watching Judge Judy just to pass the time."

Jim dropped us off on a small road just past the flooded area of the route, and we were off to finish the final 30 or so miles to St. Joseph. Rolling hills, winding country roads, lush green forests, fields of soybeans and corn and many farms were what we saw this afternoon riding the last leg to our hotel.

It was hot again today, but perhaps because the ride was a few miles shorter than yesterday's, I felt strong until the end.

Tomorrow we have a rest day, and I have no idea what one does in St. Joseph, MO for fun.
Stay tuned.

Day 28 Abilene, KS to Topeka, KS  107 miles and 4704 feet of climbing

I suppose it's an indication of the difficulty of yesterday's ride (Saturday, June 29) that I am only now, a full day later, writing about it. The heat index was well over 100 degrees for the majority of Saturday's ride to Topeka.

We left the hotel at 6:30 AM to get a jump on the heat that we knew would be coming as the sun rose higher in the sky. The terrain also changed from flat plains to rolling hills. So we knew there would be a fair amount of climbing in the heat.

I started the day riding with fellow riders Mike, Jim, Jamie, and Doug. As the day progressed, I decided to forge ahead on my own in an attempt to get in as many miles as possible before the heat became really oppressive by the middle of the afternoon.

In addition to the scheduled SAG stops the support team always positioned themselves at 10 to 15-mile intervals to fill our water bottles as needed. I would not want to be the tour leader on a scorching hot day like Saturday. The heat can be downright dangerous.

At the second SAG stop, we had about 30 miles to go to Topeka. As is my habit, I didn't stay too long at the SAG and pressed on. I was feeling better than I expected at that point in the day, around 2:30 P.M. I think. The Brits were having lunch in the air-conditioned local cafe and yelled, "Go Dave Go!" to me as I left town for the final leg of this long, hot day. I was still feeling strong, so I kept my pace up knowing that the Brits would soon be in hot pursuit, no pun intended. I had a good groove going and then sure enough - perhaps 15 miles down the road - Andy, Sean, and Chris of the British team rode up beside me and inquired about my sex life. I informed them that it had never been better, thanked them for their concern. We all rode together for a while until I had to stop to get my water bottles filled. They rode on, and I was happy to finish the last 10 or so miles at my own pace. They are all very strong riders, and it can be a challenge for me to keep up their pace on the hills. I almost know not to even try late in the day, for fear of burning out before I get to the hotel.

At any rate, the last 7 or so miles is when I really felt as though I was done for the day. I was fine, but I was certainly ready for the ride to be over. I survived to ride another day and -all things considered- I felt good about how I handled an extreme heat. 

At dinner, everyone agreed that it had been one of the most challenging days of our ride so far.

Tomorrow we ride to St. Joseph, MO. Temperatures are expected to be the same as they were today.

Day 27  McPherson KS. to Abilene, KS     64 Miles and 765 feet of climb

The Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library and Museum is in Abilene.

We left McPherson, KS this morning at 7:30 am bound for Abilene, KS, some 64 miles away. The winds were blowing north, and for about 1/3 of the day, our route was headed north, so the tailwinds pushed us along nicely. It was starting to get hot when we pulled into our hotel in the early afternoon. 

We officially reached the 1/2 way point of our trip.

They have had a great deal of flooding in this part of Kansas, and consequently, one of the roads on our route was washed out. This video shows the riders jumping over the terrifying 4-foot gap in the road. What this video does not show is the flesh-eating piranha and 6-foot alligators that were lurking in the muddy waters below. I personally carried one rider (who was too overcome with fear) over the crevasse to safety.

Abilene is known as the first "cow town" of the west. In 1867, the Kansas Pacific Railway (Union Pacific) pushed westward through Abilene. Texas cattlemen drove their herds to the stockyards here. From 1867 to 1871, the Chisholm Trail ended in Abilene, bringing in many travelers and making Abilene one of the wildest towns in the west.

Our 34th President Dwight D. Eisenhower's Presidential Library and Museum are in Abilene, and we visited it this afternoon. The tour was fascinating. The home where Ike and his brothers grew up (built in the 1890s) is also on the grounds, and we toured that as well. 

As I write this, the heat index is over 100 degrees outside. Tomorrow we have a long day in the saddle with some substantial climbing as well. Hopefully, we can get an extra early start in the morning so we can get in as many miles as possible before the heat becomes oppressive.  

Tomorrow we ride to Topeka, KS.
  

Day 26 Great Bend, KS to McPherson, KS   64 miles and 840 feet of climb

McPherson, Kansas is named after General James Birdseye McPherson, a Union officer in the Civil War who died at age 35 in the battle of Atlanta. He was the second-highest-ranking Union officer killed in action during the war. With a middle name like Birdseye, I initially wondered if he might also be connected to the life-changing innovation of frozen foods. However, upon further reflection, I realize that it would be highly unlikely considering modern refrigeration technology hadn't even been invented when McPherson was commanding troops in the 1860s. Still, you must admit, that is an impressive middle name.

We rolled into McPherson today at around 1:00 pm. Homemade cookies were waiting for us in the lobby of the Best Western Hotel when we arrived. 

Today's ride featured the same sites, sounds and smells that we have experienced for the last three days in Kansas. Long flat, straight roads lined with telephone poles, with hundreds of acres of farmland on either side. Massive farm equipment at work in the fields harvesting the crops and lumbering slowly down the roads. Small farming towns with auto parts stores, Dollar General stores, perhaps a Dairy Queen fast-food restaurant, and a John Deere dealership displaying new and used farm equipment for all to see.  The ever-present railroad tracks seem to connect almost every town. Massive, towering grain silos (at least I think that's what they are) are built right next to the tracks in each small town. With elaborate systems to efficiently load up the rail cars and send them on their way to market.   

Temperatures hit the mid-90s this afternoon when we rode into town. We fought a headwind most of the day, but they were not as severe as the headwinds we faced riding into Dodge City two days ago. It was refreshing to retire to my air-conditioned hotel room for a refreshing shower and a short nap. 

Tomorrow we reach our "official" half-way point in our cross country journey. Considering our total mileage on this particular route across America, tomorrow evidently we hit the halfway point in terms of miles. The tour staff mentioned tonight that they are planning on getting a picture of all of us at the specific mile marker. I suppose that would be nice, but I'm far more interested in simply riding my bike each day. Watching the world go by at the civilized pace of between 10 and 20 miles an hour. The thought that this trip is about halfway complete brings both feelings of happiness and sadness. 

Tomorrow we ride to Abilene, KS.

Day 25  Dodge City, KS to Great Bend, KS    95 miles and 600 feet of climb

First, an update on last night's Old West Show in Dodge City that I chose to skip. Alan, the captain and chief spokesperson for the British National Men's Cycling Team- Masters Division, said, "Yes, it was good entertainment." My unscientific poll of the other riders who attended the show found most expressing varying degrees of enjoyment. I was told there was a gunfight outside on the old west street and a song and dance show with Miss Kitty and some dancing girls inside Miss Kitty's Saloon. One of our riders, Leonard, told me that you could actually buy one of the dancing girls' garters for $4. He said he thought long and hard about it, but ultimately decided to save his money for lunch today. He also confided in me that one of the showgirls seemed to take a liking to him. Apparently, he had to, "think fast," as he put it, and slip out the backdoor before things got more complicated. And you thought that the most dangerous part of this trip was the bike riding.

Today's ride was 95 miles to the town of Great Bend, KS. Great Bend is named for its location at the point where the course of the Arkansas River bends east and then southeast. The population of the city is around 16,000. As you might imagine, the primary industry is agriculture and cattle raising.

We were fortunate today in that, for the most part, we had only moderate winds. In the afternoon we had a bit of a headwind for the last 25 or so miles, but nothing as strong as yesterday's winds. Luckily we rolled into Great Bend in the early afternoon because as I write this, the temperature has now climbed into the mid-90s.

I rode the last 25 miles with Jake, one of our America by Bicycle staff members that I've mentioned before. Jake is one of the most even-tempered, delightful individuals I have ever met. He should teach courses in good behavior. But perhaps that would be difficult for him. I think it just comes naturally to him.

One point of interest on today's ride was Fort Larned National Historic Site. Fort Larned operated from 1859 to 1878 and was established to protect traffic along the Santa Fe Trail from hostile American Indians. The historical site is nice, but I think that the least we can do today, in these more enlightened times, is turn the thing into an Indian Casino. Is it too much to ask that we give back to the local Indian tribes,  considering all the past injustices we have inflicted upon them? I wrote this suggestion down and dropped it in the suggestion box in the visitor's center. Maybe I'll write to the local congressman as well. In fact, I have a good mind to contact Elizabeth Warren's people and suggest that she champion this cause.  Let's face it, in this part of America, Ms. Warren needs all the help she can get. This assumes her campaign even knows the state of Kansas is actually part of the United States and hence part of the Electoral College.

As you can see from these two photos, there is ample room on the site for a large Casino complex. I envision a Sports Book, a Luxury Hotel with at least 2 large themed pools, 3 or 4 high-end restaurants, a day spa and maybe even an 18 hole championship golf course. I'm surprised that the local tribes have not petitioned the Historical Society about this. I mean, everybody wins. The local economy gets a shot in the arm. The local tribes get badly needed money for education and social safety net programs, and the residents of this rural part of Kansas get a little pizzaz. What's not to like? It's a no brainer in my book. My next step is to arrange a meeting between the tribal elders and some influential friends of mine. I know some folks who are heavily involved in the gaming industry. Perhaps even fly the elders to Vegas, to show them some of the possibilities. I'll keep you posted on how things develop. In fact, one of my friends (who until recently was high up in the gaming industry)  is currently spending 6 months in the United States Penitentiary at  Leavenworth, KS, not that far away from here. I may have to pay him a visit on my next day off.  See how things just come together sometimes? Amazing. 

Tomorrow our tour of Kansas continues as we continue eastward to McPherson, KS.

Day 24 Garden City, KS to Dodge City, KS    51 miles and 600 feet of climbing

You could feel the anticipation growing amongst the riders at last night's route rap before dinner. It's as if JohnWayne had walked into the front lobby of the Comfort Inn, looked at us, and announced in that unmistakable voice, "Well pilgrims, tomorrow we ride into Dodge City." Cue the epic western soundtrack music.

Some of our riders had already picked up brochures for the Boot Hill Museum and the cowboy gunfight show in the old town district of Dodge City.

We left the hotel a little later we typically do, mainly because it's only 51 miles from Garden City to Dodge City. If we had left the hotel too early, we would have descended upon the Best Western Hotel in Dodge much too early for our rooms to be ready. Although we only rode 50 miles today, we fought extreme headwinds the entire way. It was the type of unrelenting wind that requires you as a rider to just hunker down, accept it and grind out the miles at a pace you can sustain.  Some days the wind is with you and some days it's against you.

Meatpacking is the primary industry in Dodge City. Cargill Meat Solutions and National Beef both operate extensive facilities in this city of some 27,000 people. On our ride today we passed those facilities and feed yards filled with cattle. The aroma emanating from the abundant livestock was pungent and memorable. Wheat and sorghum are the area's main crops.

We all arrived somewhere between 12:00 noon and 1:00 p.m.  Plans were quickly made to meet in the lobby at 2:30 pm for the 10 block walk down to the Boot Hill Museum.

The Boot Hill Museum is an American historical museum dedicated to preserving the history of the Old West with an emphasis on Dodge City. There are over 20,000 artifacts in the complex, including more than 200 original guns.

We walked into the museum's main entrance and gift shop and bought our tickets for the tour and the 3:00 pm show. However, the nice young lady behind the counter than informed us that the 3:00 show had unexpectedly been canceled. Most of the riders decided to tour the museum anyway, but my fellow rider Ray and I looked at each other and decided that because we had mainly come for the gruesome, blood-soaked, gunfight to the death on Main Street in Dodge City (that had now been canceled) it seemed far more prudent to just head back to the hotel to do some laundry.

No reason was given for the cancelation of the 3:00 show but word on the street was that two of the show's performers were involved in some sort of a dispute over unpaid gambling debts. Evidently at the 12:00 show, one of them substituted rubber bullets for the blanks they usually use in their six-shooters. "Just to send a message.", I was told. (This according to someone with knowledge of the situation but who was not authorized to speak on the matter).  In any event, the 7:00 show was still happening so perhaps things got settled, the way they used to get settled in the old west, on the dusty streets of a cowtown they call Dodge City.

We had dinner at Applebee's this evening, and it was quite good. I don't think I have ever eaten at Applebee's. The place was bustling, and I can see why.

After dinner, I was the only rider who did not walk over to the 7:00 PM cowboy gunfight show at the Boot Hill Museum. So intent was I to get back to my blog posting and report to you, my devoted blog readers, about the important events of the day on this Cross Country Challenge.  Tomorrow morning I will get a full update as to how the cowboy gunfight show was and if the British National Men's Cycling Team decided to join in as was their secret plan. Stay tuned.

At dinner tonight the riders at my table were intently watching the weather channel for clues as to what the winds will be doing tomorrow. I admit to being utterly disinterested in any of that. The winds will be what the winds will be, and the fact is that we WILL be riding 95 miles tomorrow no matter which way the wind blows. In this specific case, I disagree with the great Bob Dylan, the answer is not, in fact, blowing in the wind. The answer is, to get on your bike and ride. That's what we signed up for.

One last note about today's ride, I rode the last 15 or so miles with Zak, a 27-year-old airline mechanic who's older and younger brothers have both ridden this exact ride in previous years. Zak is originally from North Carolina, and he has the accent to prove it. Both his brothers urged Zak to save his money and do this ride, and that is precisely what he did. Zak is a delightful riding companion. He strikes me as a very grounded and pragmatic young man who is well equipped to face the full life he has ahead of him. Zak's big news is that his girlfriend will be meeting him in St. Joseph, MO, 4 days hence when we arrive there. On that evening he plans to propose marriage to her.

If this keeps up, I will seriously be considering pitching the idea of The Cross Country Challenge Bike Ride as a reality TV show to ESPN. Stay tuned.

Day 23 Lamar, CO to Garden City, KS  103 miles and 945 feet of climbing

Today we rode from Lamar, CO into the great state of Kansas on route to our final destination, Garden City, KS. The ride can be summed up as follows: Cornfields, cattle farms, more cornfields and a long smooth highway lined with telephone pole after telephone pole after telephone pole.

I rode a good part of the day today with Jake, a 62-year-old retired electrician from Vero Beach, FL. As part of the four person ride support staff, Jake takes his turn driving a support vehicle on alternate days, but today was Jake's day to ride. That is not Jake in the picture above. That is Doug from Petaluma who has been coming on to me the entire trip from the first day he set eyes on me back in San Francisco. I keep telling him that I'm a happily married man, but he remains undeterred.

Back to Jake. He speaks in a deep voice with a slow southern drawl. Two years ago he went on the Fast Across America Ride offered by this same company. On that tour, they ride an average of 115 miles a day, and they go from coast to coast in 30 days. "Intense!" is how Jake describes it. However, Jake loved it, and he expressed an interest in becoming a staff member on one of America By Bicycle's future tours. So now here he is on his first tour as a staff member.

Jake is a very strong rider. He claims to have only been riding a bike for 7 years, which I don't believe for a minute. The man is a machine, a natural. He lives in Vero Beach, FL where there are no hills to train on, but you would never know it when he effortlessly and smoothly demolishes any hill that comes in his path. In addition to being a fantastic bike enthusiast, he is also an excellent conversationalist. He rides with a local club in his area and rides about 12,000 miles a year on his Trek Project One Bike. He says ideally he'd like to work 2 or 3 tours a year if possible and says he really enjoys being part of something like this. From his experience on the Fast America Ride, he estimates that we have 5 or 6 more days of flat roads, cornfields, endless telephone poles, and smooth pavement as we make our way through Kansas.

Upon checking into the hotel, I was informed that my old friend Bill Self, head coach of the University of Kansas Men's Basketball Team, the Jayhawks, had left a message for me at the front desk. In the note, he asked if I might be able to make time to give an inspirational talk to some of his new recruits. I emailed Coach Self back and explained to him that my days of being a traveling evangelical preacher had long past. It's been years since my last crusade, not to mention the fact that I have miles and miles of bike riding to do before reaching the shores of the Atlantic Ocean in New Hampshire.  He was so gracious to ask, but it's just not in the cards right now.

Coach Self and myself back in 2001

Dinner tonight was at the incomparable Golden Corral. However, the Brits decided to go rogue and dine at Applebee's. 

Tomorrow is a more relaxed day, only 55 miles to Dodge City, KS. We plan to visit the Boot Hill Museum and Miss Kitty's Saloon. Unfortunately, I understand the vintage old west brothel at the edge of town was recently closed down for health code violations. 

Tonight I plan to binge-watch episodes of the 60's TV show, Gunsmoke just to get into the proper frame of mind for my one day visit to this most famous of Cowboy towns. 

The great James Arness as righteous Dodge City lawman Matt Dillon in Gunsmoke. 

Day 22 Pueblo, CO to Lamar, CO 121 miles and 1200 feet of climbing

I know I'm starting to sound repetitive, but it was indeed another glorious day for cycling here in the front range of the Rocky Mountains. Mild temperatures and favorable winds made all 121 miles of today's ride very enjoyable. I averaged 19.1 MPH according to my cyclometer.

All-day we passed farms, fields planted with various crops, horses, and cattle grazing in the sunshine. For most of the day, the sky looked like this.

I arrived in Lamar, CO at around 2:30 PM and went to a very popular restaurant here called McDonald's, to enjoy some lunch. Then it was over to the hotel to check-in, retrieve my luggage, and enjoy a nice warm shower.  Dinner tonight was at a local restaurant right across the street.

Two of our riders departed on the rest day yesterday, Ken from Jacksonville FL. and Lueque from San Jose. Both riders had only signed up for the previous portions of our ride. Both were terrific riding mates, and both received a warm send-off at Friday night's dinner before our rest day yesterday. It is hard to believe that one month from today will be our final day of riding on this Cross Country Challenge. I have no doubt that the remaining days will fly by just as the miles did today. That is a bittersweet thought.

Tomorrow we ride into the great state of Kansas.

Rest Day #2

Well, my rest day was alright, but it certainly wasn't as restful as I had hoped it would be. My visit to the La Vista Correctional Facility just down the road from here turned out to be extremely awkward, to say the least. The individual I know who currently resides at La Vista was shockingly unappreciative of my efforts to visit him. In fact, he was downright rude to me. Yes, it's true that if not for me he would be a free man, but I thought by paying him a visit while I was in town I might help smooth over any lingering hard feelings he might have. Well, as it turns out that was wishful thinking.

Upon entering the visitation room in prison, I sat down at my assigned booth and picked up the phone used by the visitors and inmates to communicate. On the other side of the thick plexiglass barrier, my friend, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, sat down and picked up his phone. No sooner had we started conversing when he unleashed a torrent of vile profanity directed at not only me but at my family as well.  Yes, I probably shouldn't have said I thought he looked good in orange, but I was just trying to lighten the mood. I was simply trying to add some levity to the situation. Perhaps it's when I said I thought his 20 years in the slammer would "fly by in no time at all" that something inside him snapped. There was simply no call for him to rip off his jumpsuit and press his bare buttocks right up against the glass, right there in front of my face. I know prison can be a difficult place, but there is no call for such rudeness. I summoned the guard to complain, but he just laughed.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the glass, the guards wrestled my friend to the ground and put him in a  chokehold. I heard one of them say, "Looks like it's back to solitary for you, big boy!" And they dragged him away. I hurried out the door and used my cell phone to summon an Uber ride.

When the car arrived, I jumped in and told the driver, "Take me to Walmart and step on it!"
As we sped through the windblown streets of Pueblo, I gazed out the window and thought to myself, "Well, that didn't go very well, did it."

Upon arriving at Walmart, I found the line for the dentist to be unbearably long, so I decided to forgo having my dental work done for the time being. It's been some years since I've been to Walmart and I had forgotten the buzz, the bright lights, and the excitement that are the hallmark of every Walmart Super Center. Not to mention the everyday low prices on virtually anything a human could ever want.

With my shopping complete, I still had an afternoon to kill so I decided to do what any red-blooded American male would do when faced with being alone for an afternoon, I went bowling.
And where does one bowl in Pueblo, CO you ask? At Big Daddy's Sunset Bowl of course.

Upon entering Big Daddy's, I spotted the big man in the corner sitting in a large recliner big enough to contain his enormous girth. He had actually gained weight since I saw him last, which seemed impossible to me. He was puffing on a cigar, and he appeared to be studying The Racing Form. He looked up from his paper, saw me and let out a laugh so loud that it startled the bowlers. You see Big Daddy and I go way back. Unfortunately, due to a plea bargain agreement, I can't really go into the details of our relationship, but suffice to say that we crossed paths years ago when we were both younger and more prone to locking horns with overzealous federal prosecutors.

He asked what brought me to Pueblo and I told him about my bike ride. His face grew stern as he contemplated my journey. He then smiled and asked me if I wanted a hot dog. Big Daddy always loved hot dogs. I remember hearing that he once eat over 150 hot dogs in a 2 hour period. Do the math that is over one hot dog a minute for two hours. I'm surprised he didn't go into cardiac arrest.  Years ago he placed 3 rd in the Nathan's Hot Dog eating contest that is held on Coney Island each July 4th. He describes it as an "off-year" for him.

For the next 2 hours, we eat hot dogs and reminisced about our checkered pasts and our carefree days in the Federal Witness Protection Program. When it was time to go, he insisted that I take one more hot dog for the road.

His parting words to me were as profound as any I've heard.
He said, "You have a long journey ahead of you, Paleface." ( Paleface was always his nickname for me)
"Remember, 10 Hot Dogs a day keeps the hunger away. God's speed."

I nodded in agreement as tears welled up in my eyes. We shook hands, he gave me a big hug, an extra hot dog and I went back to my hotel.

I had eaten way too many hot dogs, and I was now paying the price. I know I have a long night ahead of me, marching back and forth, to and from the bed to the bathroom. But it's a price I'm willing to pay to see an old friend. I just hope that I'll be in decent enough shape tomorrow morning to resume my journey.

Tomorrow, 121 miles to Lamar, CO.

Day 20 Salida, CO to Pueblo, CO  95 miles and 2516 feet of climbing

It was another beautiful morning in the mountain town of Salida. We rode out of the parking lot of our hotel back on to Highway 50 headed east, bound for Pueblo, CO. Highway 50 follows the path of the Arkansas River, winding its way through spectacular canyons, so the scenery was beautiful. The water is really flowing fast this year due to a record amount of snowfall they had in the Rockies. We watched river rafters getting tossed around like rag dolls as they went down the river rapids.

I just don't have an eye for taking good pictures. But trust me on this, the river and the scenery were impressive!

What was not so impressive was the relentless headwind that we faced today for virtually every mile we pedaled to Pueblo. Except for a 4-mile climb at mile 40, the route was actually all slightly downhill, but it did not feel that way as we fought the wind.

As is my habit, I muscled through, stopping only briefly at the SAG stops to fill my water bottles and eat some granola bars. Then I was back out on the road, cursing the wind like a drunken sailor.  Alternatively, the British National Men's Cycling Team- Masters Division and some of the other riders chose to tour a few of the small towns we passed through, even stopping to sample the local cuisine. It's only natural that they, as visitors in our great country, would want to really experience these places and not just ride on through them at breakneck speeds. However, it has been my experience that actually eating at these local places can be akin to playing a dangerous game of Russian Roulette with your stomach. It's one thing if after devouring, "The Porkinator" at the local hotspot in  Canon City, CO, you can crawl back to your hotel room, lie down and pray to God that the feeling passes (one way or another). It's quite another when you must say to yourself, "My stomach is killing me, and I still have 45 miles to ride to get to my hotel room! I'm F*****!".

For me, it's challenging enough to ride all these miles and climb all these mountains when my stomach is relatively happy. Angering my stomach is the last thing I need when there are miles to go before I can get a hot shower and a cocktail. But I've always heard that the British are a hardy bunch. And I have no doubt that my new British friends are far more experienced and worldly than I. They probably have stomachs of steel for all I know. They certainly have legs of steel, why not their bellies as well?

Speaking of "stomachs of steel," tonight we were treated to the amazing, one of a kind dining experience that is, Golden Corral.  Enough said.

Tomorrow is a rest day, and I plan to meet an acquaintance at the local correctional facility and make a trip to Walmart for some provisions and to get some dental work done. Dental work at Walmart you ask? Yes, Walmart has a dentist. It'll be my first time going to a Walmart dentist, and truthfully I was a little apprehensive. But tonight at dinner when I looked around at the patrons in the local Golden Corral they seemed to have no problem polishing off plate after plate of ribs, fried chicken, brisket, corn on the cob or any of the other 150 delicacies they feature in the buffet line. If these locals are any indication, I think I'll be in good hands.

I looked for a miniature golf course in the area but was unable to locate one. I may be forced to just hang out at Walmart until the novocaine wears off and people watch.

There is a major classic car show going on this weekend at the nearby Colorado State Fairgrounds. They say over 3000 cars will be on display. At least 15 of the cars are in the parking lot of our hotel, and they look spectacular. One of our riders, Leonard, a recently retired machinist from Ohio, can name all of them and even tell you the different engines they came with. Very impressive. But it doesn't surprise me, he's a solid guy.

PS- I have some excellent video of the river and the beautiful scenery. I'll figure a way to include it here or include a link to it.

Day 19 Gunnison, CO to Salida, CO  63.6 miles and 4346 feet of climbing

We left the hotel in Gunnison and continued east on Highway 50. We rode by many green fields with rolling hills and mountains as their backdrop. Many farms dot the landscape in this part of the Rockies.

But truth be told, I was a bit preoccupied for the first 30 miles of our ride today, beautiful as it was. I knew that up the road ahead was the longest climb that I had ever attempted on a bike. The nine-mile climb up Monarch Pass to the Continental Divide.

I was never a great climber when I was younger and needless to say the passing years have not improved things. But I still grind it out the best I can, one pedal stroke at a time. I believe this climb is the single longest climb of our entire coast to coast trip, and I think this is also the highest elevation that we reach, 11,312 feet.  The scenery on the way up is beautiful, but truthfully, I was concentrating more on each pedal stroke and my breathing.

The British National Cycling Team- Masters Division passed me by, chipper as always. I could swear I saw one of them on his cell phone ordering pizza for lunch at the summit. They were kind enough to ask me if I wanted any tea and crumpets, but I respectfully declined.

I reached the summit, shouted some obscenities that are not suitable for this blog, laid my bike down on the ground, and started just walking around as the wind blew a gale. The weather was changing, and two storms were moving in from two different directions. The Brits were in the coffee shop, eating scones and pizza. Some of the other riders visited the gift shop, and some riders rode the gondola that they have at the summit. I was content to take a picture in front of the Monarch Pass sign, put on my yellow windbreaker and start the long descent into Salida, CO.

During the descent I could enjoy beautiful mountain views everywhere I looked.

 The descent into Salida, CO

On the way to dinner tonight, a fellow rider from New Hampshire, Jim who just recently retired from the US State Department (translation: CIA), asked me which of the places we had ridden through so far was my favorite. I replied that Colorado these past few days had really caught my eye. My wife and I come to Colorado to ski in the winter, but I've only been here briefly in the summer for events I've performed at. Colorado is a special place, and I can totally see why people love this state. The scenery is spectacular. Not to mention the fact that they just legalized pot and mushrooms. Don't get me wrong, I'm not into that stuff, but I'm just sayin'.

Jim said that the ride we did from Truckee, CA to Lake Tahoe (much of it along the Truckee River) was to him, a high point. I had to agree.

Tomorrow we are off to Pueblo, CO, 95 miles away. On Saturday we have a day off from riding. We resume our journey on Sunday. 

I'm not sure how I'll spend my day off on Saturday. My friend Ken Brokaw from Walnut Creek suggested that I drop in on a mutual friend who currently resides in the La Vista Correctional Facility which is located in Pueblo. This individual owes me a great deal of money, which, unfortunately, I don't plan on seeing anytime soon. But I suppose it would be nice to see what he's up to these days and taunt him through the glass partition in the visiting area. Or maybe I'll play nice and see if he can get me a Colorado vanity license plate at a reduced cost. I think that's the least he can do considering the pain and suffering he's caused my family and me. I'll see what kind of mood I'm in on Saturday.

I may just want to kick back, perhaps play some miniature golf, watch Home Shopping Network for a while or see the new Aladdin movie. 

Until tomorrow.....

P.S.- if and when I figure out how to post videos on this blog I will. It's probably operator error, but when I try to upload short videos, it refuses to cooperate. Until then, I'll do my best to describe, in supremely eloquent prose, the sights and sounds I'm experiencing. Academics were never my strong suit, and high school English......well let us just say I wasn't quite as clueless in English as I was in Chemistry. But I'm determined to give it the old college try, even though I never actually finished college.

Day 18 Montrose, CO to Gunnison, CO  64 miles and 5829 feet of climbing

The minute we rode out of the parking lot of our hotel this morning, we started a gradual climb. At about 6.2 miles, there was an option to do an "out and back." A 7-mile climb in addition to the prescribed route to Gunnison, CO. Triathlete Ken from Florida, who came on this portion of the trip expressly for the climbing did that extra 7-mile climb. As did the British National Men's Cycling Team- Masters Division.

The rest of us were content with the 5800 feet of climbing we needed to do to get to our next destination and a hot shower.

Note: 

I've tried repeatedly to upload some excellent video of the scenery we rode up and over today, but the internet here at our otherwise excellent hotel is not cooperating. So you will just have to visualize John Denver sitting on a mountain top singing, Colorado Rocky Mountain High. I get chills just thinking of it. Of course, that song has gained added relevance lately as Colorado has legalized pot. I did a gig here a year or two ago in the Winter Park area, and my assistant saw a gas station sign that read, "Gas and Grass!"

The scenery all day was green, majestic and beautiful. Streams, green mountain pastures and beautiful blue sky. After the morning climbs, the 30 miles into Gunnison was either flat or slightly downhill.

Gunnison lies thirty minutes south of Crested Butte in the heart of the Rockies. There is much going on in this mountain town. As we rode on Highway 50 toward town, we passed the massive Blue Mesa Reservoir. It is beautiful, and it didn't seem that overrun with people. Perhaps that is because it's considered to be a bit remote. Give it a few years, and I don't think that will be the case.

Gunnison is also home to Western Colorado University. 

We had dinner at a local Italian restaurant. The Brits were somewhat disappointed in the less than gigantic portions that they have become accustomed to being served here in the States. Not to worry, there's an Arby's AND a McDonald's right next to our hotel. For a five-dollar bill, you can get more food then you should ever be allowed to have in one sitting. What a country! God bless America!

Tomorrow we climb Monarch Pass. 

Day 17 Fruita, CO to Montrose, CO  74 miles and 2943 feet of climbing

Yesterday the Brits presented our fellow rider Leonard with a tee-shirt that has a Beard Growth Chart on it. Rider Doug commented to a curious pedestrian one day, "You know he was clean-shaven when we started this ride. "

We got our usual start this morning at 7:30 AM. I arrived at our hotel in Montrose by 1:00 or 1:30 pm. For most of the day, we rode on Highway 50. I rode by myself all day. This morning I started a few minutes later than the group that I sometimes ride with. There was a pretty strong headwind this morning as we rode out of Fruita. We had one SAG stop at about 40 miles. I kept it short and sweet, ate some cookies and a granola bar, refilled my water bottles, and was on my way.

Most of the riders stopped for lunch in the town of Delta, CO, about 10 miles down the road from where the SAG stop was located. I chose not to stop for lunch and continued on to do the final 25 miles to Montrose. I have a sensitive stomach at times, and if I can, I always wait to eat anything substantial until after the ride is completed. I do get sick of the Gatoraid, Cytomax, granola bars, cliff bars, and shot blocks that fuel me throughout the day, but that is what works for me.

I had a roast beef sandwich at Arby's upon my arrival in Montrose.
According to Wikipedia, Montrose is built on the Uncompahgre River. The town sits on high grasslands in the Uncompahgre Valley of Western Colorado. And that is what we saw today, high grasslands. Gone were the dramatic rock formations we saw in southern Utah.

Montrose has a reasonably big downtown area with many businesses. It has a population of about 20,000 and is known as a manufacturing hub for outdoor products such as fly-fishing and hunting gear.

Yesterday upon our arrival in Fruita, I picked up the package containing my replacement saddle, (the one Chris took off my mountain bike and Fed Exed to me last Friday). We put it on my bike, and it worked wonderfully on today's ride. 

Tomorrow we ride on to Gunnison, CO.

Day 16 Green River, UT to Fruita, CO   90 miles and 3876 feet of climbing

It was another cool morning as we set out for Fruita, Colorado, 90 miles away.

We rode on Interstate 70 the entire way, and the miles seemed to go by quickly for the most part. 

We saw snow-covered mountains in the far distance to our right and beautiful rock formations to our left. The kind of rock formations you see in Canyonlands National Park, which is about 40 miles from here. 

The Brits had nine flats today. When I asked the support staff about this they said they find that when you have 5 or more riders riding together in a group on the highway, they tend to get more flats because the riders are grouped so tightly together and they tend to not see as much of the debris scattered on the side of the road. I guess that makes logical sense, but these guys are experienced riders. I suppose the caveat to that is that they are new to riding the Interstate highways of the US. 

We arrived in Fruita at about 1:30 pm this afternoon. I had lunch, took a shower, and then did some business emails and sent out contracts for some events this summer and fall.
Tomorrow we are off to Montrose, CO.

Day 15 Price, UT to Green River, UT   66 miles and 1280 feet of climbing

It was another perfect day for cycling here in southern Utah. After breakfast, we rode down the main street in Price and got back on Rt. 6 bound for the town of Green River, UT about 66 miles away.
This video shows the sort of scenery we enjoyed all day, but it just does not do justice to the grandeur of the rock formations.

The view from our hotel.

 We only had one SAG stop today at about 30 miles. I kept it short. I filled my water bottles, ate some cookies, and I was back on the road to knock out the last 35 miles. I think anytime I'm riding in this type of desert setting I feel the need to press on and get in as many miles as I can before the heat of the afternoon comes bearing down. I have found that the heat is not my friend.

I rolled into Green River at around 1:00 PM, had some lunch and checked in to our hotel. Since I arrived early, I did some laundry.

The view from our hotel.

 The highlighted route shows what we have done so far. 

According to Wikipedia, the Green River is 730 miles long, beginning in the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming and flowing through Wyoming and Utah for most of its course. Much of the route is through the Colorado Plateau, home to some of the most spectacular canyons in the United States. I can attest to the last part of that sentence. Arches National Park and Canyonlands National Park are very close.

About 20 years ago, my brother and I went to Moab, UT ( just 50 miles from here) and rode mountain bikes on the famous Slick Rock Trail. It's all on sandstone. I had read about it in Mountain Bike magazines, and I was determined to go. As it turned out, the trail was so hair-raising to me that I was amazed we both survived. Imagine a rollercoaster ride of ups and downs all on solid rock where if you fall you are complete toast. To my dear brother's credit, even though he had not ridden a mountain bike in years, he still agreed to go with me when I called him only a week before we left. I walked my bike in places on the trail that scared the living daylights out of me, but Stephen rode every inch. He has the heart of a warrior.

Tomorrow we ride to Fruita, Colorado.

Day 14 Provo, UT to Price, UT    75 miles and 4171 feet of climbing

Ironman Ken and I outside of Provo, UT

(Photo courtesy of Doug Sanders of Sanders Painting in Petaluma, CA

for all your painting needs, call Doug!)

It was another near-perfect morning for a bike ride in Provo, UT. I got a bit of a late start again today. The guys I typically ride with had already started out, so I rode alone. It was so peaceful riding in the early morning with very little traffic and cool temperatures. After the first 5 or 6 miles, I was out of town, and I rode by farms, fields, livestock, and country homes. As I approached Rt. 6, the road that would take me to our destination for the evening, Price, UT, a 20 mile an hour headwind started blowing. I geared down and just keep spinning the pedals, wondering how long the headwind would continue. One thing you find when you're riding day after day is that you must learn to accept whatever comes your way at any given moment. Sometimes what comes your way makes things more complicated, and sometimes it makes things easier. Hopefully, it all evens out in the end. "It is what it is," as the saying goes.

Eventually, after about 7-8 miles, the winds subsided, and I started the long climb to the Soldier Summit. The grade was gradual. The surrounding mountains were green and beautiful. To either side of me, there were meadows, some with sheep grazing, as well as wooded areas. At mile 37 of our ride, we had the only SAG stop of the day at a beautiful rest area about 9 miles from the summit. Some of my fellow riders were congregated in a beautiful picnic area under some trees with a lawn area. It was there that we met an Englishman who was also biking across the country, but doing it self- supported, meaning that he was camping and presumably cooking his own meals each night.

  He said he averaged about 70 miles a day and that his wife would be meeting him in Chicago to SAG for him for a week or two.  He said she had initially agreed to SAG for him for a much more extended period but had then thought better of it. I'm not sure what his final destination on the east coast was, but he said he was giving himself 3 months to complete the journey. He is a hardy soul, indeed. As we climbed up to the summit together, he had the riding cadence of a man who is one with his bicycle and one with the wondrous adventure at hand.

The descent from Soldier Summit was about 17 miles. The topography changes as you descend.

The first town you come upon is Helper, UT. As is my habit, I did not stop, and I remained focused only on the remaining miles between me and a hot shower, dinner, and a cocktail. Those who did stop raved about the quaint little western town. The Brits even attended an antique car show that was being held there this afternoon. While they were admiring the likes of a pristine 1936 Packard I, I was devouring a massive and in my view, equally exquisite double cheeseburger at the Burger King in Price. To each his own.

I decided to supplement my exquisite double cheeseburger with a protein drink from a company called Core. It tastes like chocolate milk. My riding buddy Ken from Jacksonville, FL. is perhaps 2 years older than I and competes in Triathlons. Upon the completion of each day's ride, he goes directly to the nearest convenience food store and gets a protein drink to help rebuild his muscles for the next day's ride. Ken is a lean, mean riding machine. He typically goes on 3 to 4 bike tours a year in the US and in Europe and plans to compete later this year in an Ironman competition in Cleveland. Part of the reason Ken chose to ride on this tour was that it will give him a "base" in his bike training. He tells me (with a bit of a southern drawl) that his philosophy is simple. He says, "Dave, I can't really tell ya if I'm gonna be here next year, next month, next week or even tomorrow. So I'm doing what I want to do now."
Ken is a vegetarian as well. When we went to Arby's at the end of yesterday's ride, they actually made him a vegetarian sandwich. Yes, the same Arby's whose slogan is, "We have the meats!"

Tonight's dinner was here at the Ramada Inn where we are staying. They could not be more helpful. I had salmon, and it was terrific. At our table was young Zak, the airplane mechanic from Washington state. Zak plans to propose to his girlfriend in a week or so at one of the stops we make where she plans to meet him. The rest of us at the table are all married men, and some of us felt the need to impart some sage advice to Zak whom we all like very much. Doug was first up. He told Zak that the three rings of marriage are the engagement ring, the wedding ring, and the suffering. When it came to me, I couldn't resist. I quoted the ancient Jewish philosopher Henny Youngman who said, "The secret to a happy marriage is still a secret." Rimshot, please.

Next stop, Green River, UT.

Day 12 Salt Lake City, UT to Provo UT     66 miles and 1708 feet of climbing

The Battle of Broken Saddle

My beautiful wife Chris flew in from the Bay Area to join me in Salt Lake City for our rest day yesterday. We had a simply glorious time doing laundry as well as shopping at Target for various ointments, creams, and deodorants. Also, we searched numerous Salt Lake City bike shops (unsuccessfully) for a specific tire pump bracket. If that doesn't spell romantic, I don't know what does. Then to top it all off, we finished the day with an utterly mediocre meal at one of our favorite Salt Lake City restaurants. All in all, it added up to a fabulous romantic getaway never to be forgotten.

We said our goodbyes this morning as she got into her rental car and sped off to catch her flight back to Oakland. There was no time to waste, she had a pedicure scheduled for 3:00 P.M. back in Alamo, CA.

After a moment of silent reflection, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and focused on the task before me, a 66-mile bike ride to the city of Provo, UT, home to the campus of Brigham Young University.

At the suggestion of my good friend, the renowned contemporary philosopher Matt Robertson, I bought a go cam from Amazon to chronicle my biking adventures. The camera arrived at the hotel yesterday, and I mounted it on my bike. As of this writing, I've still not figured out how to transfer the pictures and videos I took today into my computer and into this blog. Stay tuned, I'll figure it out.

Until then, you'll just have to visualize in your mind the majestic, snowy peaks of the Wasatch Mountains. The beautiful meadows. The vast blue skies. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Joseph Smith, Mitt Romney, The Osmond Family, Donny and Marie, and the blood, sweat, and tears of fourteen lonely bike riders as they fight past pain and suffering in their quest to ride from sea to shining sea. Gosh, a sentence like that can really take your breath away. Or make you roll your eyes at just how self-absorbed and melodramatic a 62-year-old first-time blogger can be.

It was a beautiful morning as we left our hotel, which was located around the Salt Lake City airport. Most of the day we spent riding on bike paths with a few suburban streets thrown in. The Wasatch Mountain range was on our left all day as I rode along with my new friends, Ken from Jacksonville Florida and Doug from Petaluma, California.

At about mile fifteen, I went over a bump, I felt a snap and heard a crack. I didn't know what to make of it, but when I looked under my seat, I could see that one of the rails on my bike saddle had snapped off. My saddle was broken. My first thought was, "Thank God I wasn't impaled! How would I explain THAT to my wife?"

A broken saddle may sound like a small inconvenience to most, but to a long-distance bike rider, the prospect of having to change saddles in the middle of a ride is not a pleasing thought. Fortunately, due to my past training in the ever-changing field of lounge entertainment, I remained cool and calm as I rode to the next SAG stop. While I ate a granola bar and refilled my water bottles, Jim, the tour director, replaced my saddle with a temporary one that the tour company had in the truck. I stopped into a Scheels sporting goods store on our route to buy a new saddle, but I was unsuccessful.

I rode the remaining miles to Provo with the replacement seat. Avid cyclist will tell you that every rider has a specific design in a saddle that works best for him or her. The choice of a saddle is a very personal one, and one's backside gets used to a saddle only after many miles of riding. That is why they make saddles in so many different sizes and shapes.

During the final miles to the hotel today, my posterior was telling me that it did not particularly care for this new saddle I was riding on. After arriving at the hotel, I called around to a few bike shops in Provo to see who might have my particular bicycle saddle. Mark, our mechanic, drove me in the support van to a shop that said they had my saddle, but in fact, they did not have it. I quickly did what any logical cyclist would do, I called my wife. Upon hearing of my predicament, she sprung into action. On my bike shelf at home, she immediately located an identical saddle to the one that I broke. She then raced down to our local Fed Ex drop off location and attempted to overnight the seat to me at tomorrow's destination. But alas it is Friday, and overnight delivery to a remote town in Utah is not possible. So I bought another saddle with similar dimensions to my saddle, and I'll ride with that for the next three days until my replacement saddle arrives on Monday.
We will see how it goes on tomorrow's ride, which includes over 4000 feet of climbing.

Dinner was at the Sizzler Restaurant across the street from our hotel. I enjoyed their extensive salad bar along with a steak and some chicken soup, all very satisfying indeed. It was a beautiful mild evening in Provo. Tomorrow we climb again.

Day 12  Rest Day  0 miles 0 feet climbing

Day 11 Wendover NV to Salt Lake City UT.  117 miles 1046 feet of climbing

We had breakfast early this morning, at 5:30 a.m. because we had 117 miles ahead of us to our next destination, Salt Lake City. I didn't eat much at breakfast, for some reason my stomach just didn't feel right. I got my luggage together and loaded it in the truck at the prescribed time of 6:30 am, but I still didn't feel quite right. I returned to my room and laid down for about an hour before leaving the hotel and heading east on Interstate 80 and onto the Bonneville Salt Flats. All the riders and support vehicles were well down the road at that point.

It was another beautiful, bright, morning as I cruised along through the salt flats. One of the Brits commented that riding through Nevada these last few days felt almost like being on another planet, so unique is the topography of the American West.


I came upon our America By Bicycle van off to the side of the road at about mile 20. The Brits were also there taking pictures and refilling water bottles. I joined them as we resumed our ride. I thought I was finally getting some sense of pace line etiquette when, after being in the front for about .3 miles, one member of the British team rode up beside me and told me I was "losing the pack," meaning I was riding faster than the pack wanted to ride. I was going perhaps 1 to 1.5 miles per hour faster than my predecessor at the front, and I had been told that one was supposed to ride at a pace that felt right to you. I didn't know it at the time,  but evidently, they had agreed to take it easy today so as not to be too tired for our day off tomorrow. A logical strategy for sure. So there I was, my first chance to be at the front of the British National Cycling Team (Masters Division) on the open road and I had blown it. I was crestfallen. Upon returning to the back of the line, I noticed that we were now riding along at almost 18 MPH. I mentioned that I had just been admonished for going a tad too fast, but now we were going even more quickly. Actually, I said, "Hey, I just had my balls busted for going 17 MPH, and now we're going 18 MPH." Everyone laughed, and a rider went up to the front and said, "Hey, you just busted Dave's balls for going too fast, and now you are going faster." I guess the lead rider, I'm not sure who it was, had a faulty speedometer. At any rate, it was all great fun. A more delightful group of guys you will not find.


We reached a rest area around mile 50, and the Brits decided to have some lunch. I have found that I'm better off not eating sandwiches and such during a ride just because my stomach can be so unpredictable. I stick to granola bars, Cytomax (similar to Gatoraid) and Shotblocks (big gumdrops made for cyclists to give you energy). I guess these products all contain just the right ingredients such as sugar, sugar, and more sugar, to keep you going.


I continued on down the road by myself for the next 20 miles or so through what is referred to as the basin and ridge region of Utah - a series of flat depressions, salt beds, lakes, and sinks - all scattered between isolated ribbons of mountains. At around mile 70, I needed to replenish my water bottles and get something to eat. I exited the highway, and I came upon a gas station and convenience store. As I perused the vast selection of candy bars, nuts, crackers, cupcakes and donuts, the lady behind the counter commented that I should, "check out our Hostess Twinkies, they're the best!" I have not had a Hostess Twinkie since I was in the 3rd or 4 the grade. But now suddenly it seemed like the perfect choice to quench my hunger. They did not disappoint. Words like sublime, awe-inspiring, blissful, and even rapturous come to mind. From the first bite to the last, I couldn't help thinking, "No wonder these things have been around since the Hoover administration." At that point in the ride, my Garmin cycling computer was telling me that I had burned over 4000 calories. I have no idea how it comes up with that calculation ( it seems high to me), but I had no guilt eating my first Hostess Twinkies in over 50 years, just pure satisfaction. I filled my water bottles and went on my way.


It was another 20 miles down the road to the next SAG stop. It is incredible how just a 15 min break from riding and a little nourishment and water, rejuvenates you and allows you to press on. At the 90 mile mark, the SAG vehicles were parked on the side of the road. There is nothing there except the land and the road. I replenished my water bottles, eat some granola bars, and off I went for the last 27 miles of the days ride into Salt Lake City.

The last 10 or so miles became busy with traffic, including many trucks. The side of the road was quite messy in parts, littered with little stones and pieces of old tires, but at that point in the ride, with the end in sight, they were but small nuisances. Surprisingly I was still cooking along at a good clip. I came upon fellow rider Leonard, a retired machinist from Ohio, who was also riding along at a good pace. Then I came upon Jamie, Mike, and Jim and I rode the final miles with them to our hotel by the Salt Lake City airport. On one road leading up to the hotel some cycling clubs were training, their long pace lines flew by us at what seemed like breakneck speeds. Upon reaching our hotel, we all high fived each other. I'm not sure about them, but for me, it was the first time in over 15 years that I had ridden back to back days of over 100 miles.


My wife flew in from California to spend my rest day with me, and she arrived at the hotel about an hour later.  What a blessed man I am to be participating in this very special bike ride and to be greeted at the end of the day by my wife and best friend. How sweet it is.


P.S- Here is an old home movie I found that my mother took of me riding my first bicycle. How cute I was. I wish I still had that matching suit coat and hat.

Day 10 Elko, NV to Wendover, NV   107 miles and 4347 feet of climbing

We started out at 7:00 a.m. this morning from our Best Western hotel in Elko. It was refreshingly cool and comfortable. We have been lucky so far with the weather. Typically it can be much hotter in these parts at this time of year. There was not a cloud in the sky as we cruised down Interstate 80 bound for Wendover, NV, about 100 miles to the east. I decided to start out slower this morning to give my lungs a chance to open up and to give my legs a few miles to warm up. I let the group I was riding with ride ahead at their pace, and I hung back for a while. It was so beautiful out on the road this morning. Pictures do not do it justice.

I wish I could stop and take more pictures, but I went on this trip to ride, and see our great country from the seat of a bicycle, and with 107 miles ahead of me today, for the most part, I decided to just keep pedaling. My fellow rider Jamie is doing a blog that just might win him a Pultizer Prize for travel writing so if you want pictures, check out:

itsthejourney.co

You see the countryside much differently from the seat of a bicycle. You feel the wind in your face on a bike, you hear the birds, you notice wildlife out in the meadows and the mountains. You really experience the land and all its wondrous beauty.

At about mile 48, we all stopped in the town of Wells, NV. to pick up sandwiches. We gave them to the SAG wagon to carry. The plan was to eat lunch at the top of the day's climb at 70 miles.

Our lunches secured, on we pressed down I-80 eastbound. We had a slight headwind but nothing like the last few days. On the climbs, I just put my head down and concentrate on one pedal stroke at a time, not on the riders that are stronger and faster. I find a pace that feels right for me. When the climbs are 5 and 6 miles long, what alternative do you really have?
My asthma didn't seem to be as severe on this climb. Typically in the afternoon, I tend to do better for some reason. Today's climb was to the top of Pequop Summit.

I'm not in the middle of the road like it looks here. It's a rest area and truck stop at the summit. 

At the top of the climb at the SAG, we celebrated Jamie's birthday and Ray's birthday. The staff provided fresh donuts along with the usual SAG fruits, granola bars, and cookies, etc. Later in the day, we came upon the British National Men's Cycling Team- Masters Division. (either that or they came upon Zak and me, I can't recall). At any rate, we joined them for the final miles into Wendover. Zak kept giving me pointers on how to paceline, which I appreciated. 

We all stopped at the bottom of the exit in Wendover at which point the Brits insisted that I move to the front of the pack, and lead us into town and to our hotel. I resisted, but they would not have it, so I led the group the short distance to the hotel parking lot. There were high fives all around. It was such a gracious gesture on their part, that to be completely honest, I wanted to cry. But in the strict British tradition, I kept a stiff upper lip and did my best to remain calm and carry on. Just another priceless day on the road across our great country. 

Day 9 Battle Mountain, NV to Elko, NV  72 miles and 2937 feet of climbing

It was more of the same today as we rode on frontage roads and Interstate 80 making our way to Elko, NV. There was much less wind today, which was nice. The weather was perfect. There was one very long climb, but the grade was not bad. While descending from that climb, two of my fellow riders got flat tires. Somehow I rode through without any issues, but I'm sure my time will come. Flats are inevitable on a trip this long.

After the second SAG stop at 50 miles, Ken, Mark (our mechanic) and I headed out together for the last 25 miles. Mark and Ken gave me some lessons in paceline etiquette, which was great. Both Mark and Ken are strong riders. We knocked out the final 25 in pretty respectable time I think. We didn't go crazy because the next two days of riding to get to Salt Lake City are 107 and 117 miles respectively. Back to back centuries.

Mike from Ohio starting a long descent. 

Dave from California modeling his Morgan Stanley jersey generously donated by the John and Kim Asher Foundation

I'm beat and the next two days will be long so I'll keep this post short today. Besides, there is not one Correctional Facility to check out around here. Bummer.