July 6, 2009 EPILOG

Yesterday, one of my cycling friend asked me; “Would you do it again?” I responded; “It depends how you mean that”. We all agreed we would not do it again. Did it, done it, no need to repeat it. Speaking for myself; however, I’m glad I did it and I would not dissuade anyone from doing it, in fact I would encourage the adventure. So, if the question is; “Had you known what you know now, would you still have done the trip?” My answer is; “Yes, absolutely”. From my perspective, the fete went better than I anticipated. In 3,800 miles we encountered less idiot and rude drivers than I would in one 50 mile ride around York County. I anticipated riding along roads similar to Route 30 for a significant amount of the route. Although we did ride along some four lane roads, with heavy traffic, I would estimate they comprised less than 5% of the total. The weather was better than expected; the low pressure system that sat over the East Coast was gone by the time we arrived back east. While we did experience rain, hail, cold, and heat, nothing lasted too long. The most we rode in the rain was 2 hours. The hot and humid, 100+ days were only 3 of the 38 days. We were able to avoid some nasty weather by simply watching the Weather Channel and hunkering down in our hotel until the coast was clear. We had no accidents or anything close, except for my near death experience with the high speed bike oscillation coming down a Colorado mountain. I could go on and on, but I need to leave some stories and details to be told by oratory. Suffice it to say, the positives far outweighed the negatives.

As I detailed in one of the initial blog postings, we did not endeavor to cross the United States to raise money for a charity; our reasons were more selfish; we just wanted to do it. But, since we were undertaking the epic adventure anyway, it certainly made sense to earmark a charity to promote and hopefully benefit. We chose to benefit the Wounded Warrior Battalion, in honor of Lt. David Bordon, U.S.M.C. Prior to leaving, I received contributions from various individuals. Some people I told to wait until we returned before making a contribution. I presume because we stayed in hotels, rather than camping in town parks and did not ride bikes laden with packs, people did not find us too much of a curiosity. Consequently, we did not encounter too many people interested in where we were going or why. I assume most people figured we were just a couple of local fitness nuts out for a ride. Of the few curious people who asked about our endeavor, even fewer inquired as to whether we were raising money for a charity. For that reason we received no contributions while on the road. In the event and post ride contributions are forthcoming, please forward your checks ASAP, as I will forward any contributions near the end of July or early August. If anyone is interested in making a contribution, please forward a check to my office at 250 York Street, Hanover, Pa. 17331, payable to the Wounded Warrior Battalion.

As Jere and I each return to work and Tim to his leisurely retirement, we each check off this “To Do” from our respective Bucket Lists. All three of us were flattered by the number of people who followed us, and we were most appreciative of the encouragement, prayers, and blog responses from everyone. We looked forward to reading the comments to the blog as much as some people looked forward to reading the daily postings. We quickly realized we were not alone on our trip so we made a concerted effort to post pictures, GPS downloads and the daily narrative so everyone back home could vicariously experience our trip along with us. Knowing we had such a following back home, was both motivational and inspirational Thank you!

Interesting, but meaningless statistics:
We rode 3,830.1 miles in 38 days; 100.8 miles per day.
Days 16-20 were the most consecutive 100+ mile days (104.1, 111.6, 104.2, & 106.6)
Our average speed was 17.5 mph.
The fastest day was Day 18 into Scott City, Ks. with an average speed of 20.7 mph over 104 miles. (The second fastest day was our last day, 20.3 mph over 81.9 miles … we smelled the barn door).
The most mileage in one day was 130.6 miles on Day 15 into Salida, Co. (crossing the Continental Divide);
The shortest day was 54.6 miles into Cedar City, Ut.
We climbed at total of 223,979 feet or 6,183 feet per day.
Sam burned a total of 279,261 calories on the bike. Equivalent to eating 396 Big Macs, or 1,551 Dunkin Glazed Donuts, or 872 Subway 6” Club subs.
We averaged 5.76 hour per day in the saddle.

Net weight loss: Jere: 0 lbs; Tim: 0 lbs; Sam: 12 lbs (197 to 185).

Day 38 (06/29/09)

Mission Completed. We arrived at Yorktown, Va. around 12:30 pm and did the ceremonial tire dip. The support group , Joe and Tim headed home, Sam and family headed to the beach and Jere and wife Tammi headed for North Carolina to visit their daughter. Stay tuned, we will follow up with more details and total statistics in the next few days.

Day 37 (6/28/09)

Again, Joe Kaehler will be the guest blogger accompanied by Tim Rohrbaugh to recap the next to last day. I was met by my wife, oldest daughter, Sarah, and my three grandchildren at the end of today's ride. Understandably, the last thing I want to do is make a blog entry. We rode 92 miles at a brisk pace under skies that threatened to rain on our parade. Fortunatly, it didn't and we made it with neither sunburn or wet britches. Again, take it away Joe ...

The pen is mightier than the spoke as Tim and Joe relieved Sam of his blogging duties for the final night. Sunday morning welcomed us to cool temperatures of 60 degrees and a day of promising weather. Our uneventful breakfast at the Best Western Cavalier was just that other than Jere woofing down his customary five hard boiled eggs as an appetizer. A quick rundown on the bikes for maintenance and we then loaded up the bikes on the truck to return to yesterday’s finishing point in Palmyra, Virginia. On our way to Palmyra riding along Interstate 64 we saw a hot air balloon pass above us. Our first support stop of the day came at mile 29 in Mineral, VA as our volunteer support team of Sharon Rohrbaugh and Marlene Steinour showed their hospitality by filling our bottles and feeding us healthy nutritious food. A communication error at this stop had the cyclists and the support crew just a few hundred yards apart and not able to find each other. This supports the theory that men are from Mars and women are from Venus!

After this stop we cycled through the nice Virginia countryside with minimal competiton from vehicles and an ill attempted chase by three dogs that were left in the wake of four cyclists on a mission. As previously arranged we again met the female support crew at noon for a lunch break. Just as we were finishing our meal a few raindrops started to fall, so we jumped on the bikes and took off for our final destination in Mechanicsville, Virginia. For the remainder of the trip, the rain never materialized. At mile 72, we arrived in Ashland and met up with Tim’s daughter, Jana and boyfriend, Mike. We were back in civilization at this point as the traffic increased significantly. Pulling into the parking lot at the Hampton Inn in Mechanicsville, completing the 92 miles for the day, we were greeted by Sam’s wife, Gretchen, his daughter, Sarah and his three grandchildren, Avery, Beckham and Cohen.

Everyone enjoyed a fine meal at the Outback Restaurant and went back to the hotel to prepare for the final day of the trip, Day # 38. All systems are go for the grand finale as Tim, Sam and Jere are determined to dip their wheels in the water at Yorktown, Virginia as a sentimental ending to their cross country journey.

Day 36 (6/27/09)

Today's blog entry is written by our guest rider, Joe Kaehler. I figured if he can come into the ride on day 36 with fresh legs and spirit, he can provide unmuddled narrative for today's ride. Take it away Joe.

Joining the BRAG team for the final three days of their coast to coast trek, I , Joe Kaehler, was volunteered to pen my observations and thoughts of the day's events. New to the rituals that Sam, Jere and Tim have established over the past month and having refined it to a science, I watched with an eagle eye the stages of preparation for a day in the saddle. Starting with reveille at 5:50am, the four of us wasted no time getting the sleep out of our eyes. First on the agenda was breakfast to fuel us throughout the morning. Second on the list was my initiation to the group by drinking some secret potion that Sam mixed up to promote molecular Armageddon in our bodies to propel up any hill imaginable.

Next, we all suited up in our cycling attire and helped Jere get our bikes in mechanical order for the day. With the temps and forecast looking very favorable for the duration of the ride, and Tim armed with maps, at 7:30m, the festivities began. The first 19 miles of the 97 mile day was our warm up period for the task set before us for the day. At the 19 mile mark, we began a four mile climb of over 1400 feet to reach the Blue Ridge Parkway. The cycling gods were with us as we ascended this beast of a climb drenched in sweat from our effort. Like clockwork, our support team of Josh and Tom met us at the top and refueled us with proficient skills that they have honed over the past 3,600 miles. The Blue Ridge Parkway was our choice of travel for the next 25 miles as we made efficient use of the rolling terrain, climbed at a reasonable pace and ascended at breakneck speeds along this crown jewel of the National Parks on the east coast.

At the terminus of the Blue Ridge Parkway, we again met up with the support crew for a light lunch and carried on our mission heading east on Rt. 250 toward Charlottesville, VA. We had some company on this stretch of highway with many vehicles passing by us as we kept a single file pace line nearly the whole way to Charlottsville. Upon reaching that target point, we arrived at a nice restaurant and had our meals on the table in less than a minute of our arrival, thanks to Tom and Josh for placing an advance order. The BRAG team had 75 miles under their belt but there was more to do. Twenty + miles were on the to do list and I believe I write for all four of us, that there was a slight spillover of lactic acid in our leg muscle from our latest stop.

On we pushed, as in Sam's words," Jere found a new carrot" in me as the freshest legs to abuse. It was my intention to do quite a bit of pulling to give these guys a break from all that they have done the past month. But Jere had other thoughts as him and I see-sawed out front as Tim and Sam paid the price. In the area of Monticello, Sam got a flat for reasons unknown since we couldn't find the usual shard of glass or metal embedded in the tire. Our suspicions pointed to a faulty area around the stem. Their perseverance rewarded itself as we all finished together in the town of Palmyra, VA.

While I wish I could have started with Tim, Sam and Jere back in San Francisco, I am excited and fortunate to be able to witness firsthand the accomplishment these fellow cyclists are doing. They are two days away from penning the final chapter on this most noteworthy event and I'm sure the stories will be told for summers to come!

Day 35 (6/26/09)

Since the death of Michael Jackson is everywhere, even on the Weather Channel, I would be remiss not to mention his passing on the Blog. His death will be one of those; "Where were you when ..." events. It came to me that when I was writing yesterday's blog, commenting on the fact that life is good, Michael Jackson was probably being pronounced dead and Farah Fawcett had died. Life is good, but short, which is why we chose to do this trip. Tomorrow is not guaranteed and you have to live your dreams. Spinning through the tree covered rural roads today, seeing deer in the freshly mowed pastures, twin dear fawns, wild turkeys flying across the road in front of us, the Blue Ridge mountains shadowing us, I doubted Michael Jackson, with all the wealth he had, ever experienced something so basic and beautiful. When we grow older and tell our grand kids that we road our bikes across the United States in the year Michael Jackson died, they will have a time perspective of when we did our journey.


Just as soon as I mentioned in yesterday's blog about continuing to pass cyclists westbound, today was probably the first day that we didn't see any cyclists on the road. Although we didn't see any cyclists, we did spy two hikers and their tents bivouacked in the front yard of a house where the Appalachian trial crossed our path. They looked more wore out than us and dirtier. No Holiday Inn Express for them for the night.

Jere got another opportunity to race a dog, this time the dog wasn't in a dog run. We saw two dogs ahead of us on the road ahead, one a small dog and the other a medium size dog. They were in the middle of the road, going our direction so they didn't see us until we got close. The larger dog saw Jere in the lead and went for him (the little dog was never a threat to anyone). Jere stood up and mashed his pedals, quickly building up speed in an attempt to out run the dog. Tim and I just maintained our roll, watching the sport. The dog kept with Jere, stride for stride, neither capable of out doing the other. Assuming Tim and I would be fair game after the dog was done playing with Jere, I armed myself with my water bottle. Sure enough, the dog ran out of juice before Jere did. As the dog was regrouping with its tongue hanging out, Tim and I rode up on him. Just as the dog's head whipped around when he heard us and he made a lung toward us, I blasted him in the face with a stream of water. The dog's brief hesitation over the initial shock of "What was that?" afforded Tim and I enough opportunity to sprint by untormented. Fortunately, for Tim and I, Jere was whipped and the remaining ride into Lexington was at a leisurely pace. We rode about 92 miles to Lexington today. On Day 36, we climb to the top of the Blue Ridge Parkway and ride on the parkway for about 20 miles before descending into the valley and heading to Charlottseville. We will actually ride about 25 miles past Charlottseville to give us a 100 mile day. We will shuttle back to Charlottseville to spend the night and hopefully, drinks at a recommended Brew Pub. We are joined for the rest of the ride by another Hanovarian, Joe Kahler.

P.S. Flat tire tally: Jere - 5, Sam - 2, Tim - 2. Jere somehow developed a slow leak in his front tire about 68 miles into the day. Shortly, after a refueling stop, Jere said; "somethings wrong with my front tire, its rubbing on my brake pads." When we stopped to check it out, he noticed the low tire pressure. We rode a couple of miles before replacing the tube, but we chose the place of changing, rather than the tire.

Day 34 (6/25/09)

Life is good! I’m writing this blog entry on the patio of the Christiansburg, Va. Hampton Inn, listening to Bob Marley on my IPhone and consuming adult beverages imported from Ireland. Today was an “easy” day of 83 miles crisscrossing I-81. Again, the sun was shining and temperatures barely made it out of the 80s. We arrived in Christiansburg about 1:30, giving us an opportunity to rest the legs and mind after the past three days of playing mountain goat. We are becoming mentally fatigued with the routine, so we have to be especially cautious of what we are doing and not get complacent. We have ridden nearly 3,500 miles without incident, often within inches of each other to afford maximum drafting; we don’t need an accident now due to inattention or lack of focus.
Today’s riding was especially interesting for me. Our route took us through the town of Radford. My oldest daughter, Sarah and her husband, Dan both graduated from Radford University in 2004. My other daughter, Rachel graduated in 2007 from Appalachian State in Boone, N.C., 2 ½ hours south of Radford. Both Sarah and Rachel played volleyball for their respective universities and I frequently traveled the route I-81 corridor to see their collegiate athletic careers. I spent many of nights in Radford and Christiansburg during volleyball (and football) season. I was always in a hurry to either get to the schools or home, never really getting the opportunity to enjoy the surroundings. Today I finally had the opportunity to get off the interstate and see up close the beauty of south western Virginia. (Previously, I drove the Blue Ridge Parkway between Radford and Boone with the convertible top down, playing Bluegrass Gospel on the radio. That was one of those “Life Is Good” days too.)
We are still passing a trickle of riders heading westbound. We haven't passed anybody heading eastbound since the couple riding the tandum recumbant bike in Missouri. Today, we passed a guy carrying a guitar on his bike. He’s probably only a week into the Transamerica ride and has no clue what he’s in for. I bet he’ll lose the guitar before he gets out of Virginia.

Tomorrow’s destination is 92 miles to Lexington, Va.. as we continue to play hide-and-seek with I-81. The forecasted weather is a 50% chance of rain. That means we’ll have a 50% chance of riding in the sunshine!

P.S. I wore the FSU jersey today and nobody tried to run me off the road, or honked their horn or gave me a hand gesture. Tomorrow I’ll wear my Air Force Jersey as we ride into Lexington, home of V.M.I. (Virginia Military Institute). By special request I will wear the FSU jersey again on Saturday as we head into Charlottesville, home of U.V.A. (University of Virginia Cavaliers – another A.C.C. rival of FSU).

Days 32 & 33 (6/23/09 & 6/24/09)

Day 32 (6/23/09)
We left Hazard, Ky. in the fog, riding the shoulder of a 4 lane highway for about 6 miles, before the route changed course onto more rural roads. We rode the last 80+ miles through rural, eastern, Kentucky. The recession doesn’t appear to have affected the area, because the area never experienced an up economy. Despite the depressed area, the road surfaces were good; however, the road shoulders were often sketchy. The roads generally meandered along streams and rivers with mobile homes and shanties squeezed between the mountain and the road and the streams. Often the road edges were non-existent because of water erosion. Sometimes, KyDOT would place a warning sign in the holes, but there was no substitute for vigilance. Most of the coal trucks seemed to be going westbound so we were fortunate to generally avoid that hazard. We also remained perfect in avoiding any confrontation with dogs. Despite all the dire warnings about Kentucky; we were pleasantly surprised. We had good weather, good roads, and courteous drivers. The terrain was a different matter. We climbed over 14,000’ in the 101 miles between Hazard, Ky. and Haysi, Va.. We all agreed that the sheer steepness of the climbs made Day 32 one of the hardest days. None of us got off our bikes and walked or even stopped to rest until we sumitted. Although, the thought of walking did cross my mind on a few occasions, but the humiliation would be far worse and long term than the temporary relief. Unfortunately, there was no reward waiting for us at the end of the day. The only “hotel” in Haysi was the Hilltop Hotel. It was at the top of the mountain and not along our route of travel. The hope was the support team would get to our hotel rooms, check in, and unload the van and come into town and pick us up, because at that point we already had 97 hard miles in. The support team did not arrive to rescue us, so we had to get our own directions and climb to the top of the mountain to the hotel; wasted miles and effort because it didn’t get us any closer to Yorktown. The hotel was hands down the worst place we stayed, even outdoing Eureka, Ks. Words can not convey how awful the place was. It was so, bad that I set up Tim’s folding chair in the parking lot to take a post ride nap, because I wanted to limit my exposure to the bed. We scouted the town for places to get breakfast the next day, but there wasn’t anything. So we resorted to buying Subway subs and putting them on ice for the next morning.

Flat tire tally: Jere – 3, Sam – 3, Tim – 2. Sam developed a slow leak around the valve stem of his rear tire. At about mile 25, the low tire pressure became obvious and another maintenance stop was ordered. Jere believes the problem originated with operator error of the bicycle pump at the beginning of the ride; hence, I am not allowed to touch the bikes or even pump up the tires.

Day 33 (6/24/09)
We left the Hilltop Hotel early, because it didn’t take long to eat our Subway sub breakfast. The mountain top was foggy and cool. For the first time in awhile, we actually put on long sleeve clothes for the morning ride. We turned on our strobe head and taillights and descended down the mountain, to get back on course. The weather for the day turned into probably the best riding day of the trip. The fog slowly burned off, the humidity was low and the temperatures eventually climbed into the mid 70s. We also were riding at elevations between 2,000 and 3,000’ which helped. Again, the roads were generally back country, tree lined roads, with little traffic. We had our third day in a row of climbing over 11,000’; we finished the day with over 15,000' of climbing in the 101 miles we traveled (The most feet of climbing in one day the whole trip!). Not wanting to risk a repeat of our accommodations of the night before we had the support team scout out the Bed & Breakfast that was situated about the 92 mile point along our route. The recon was not favorable, so we rode the extra miles to Sugar Grove, VA. and waited for the support team to drive about 20 miles to Marion, Va., which is off an exit of of I-81, to get decent accommodations. Tomorrow, the support team, will shuttle us back to Sugar Grove where we’ll resume out trek. Tomorrow’s route will generally follow I-81, sometimes to the north and sometimes to the south of it. Since we did extra miles today, we have a short 80 mile ride, with no significant climbing, into Christiansburg, Va. (I’m going to wear my Florida State jersey as my way of thumbing my nose at all the Hokie fans).

Day 31 (6/22/09)

Surprise, surprise, we are still in civilization, if you can call Hazard, Ky. civilization. Actually, its quite the busy place. According to the guy holding the Stop sign at the road construction at the top of the mountain, it was a lot busier, but the coal industry is laying people off because of Obama's "Go Green" initiatives. Today we rode 102 miles and climbed over 11,000', the second highest day of total climbing (our most feet of climbing was our 3rd day when we climbed over Carson pass into Nevada). The weather and ride was almost ideal. The temperature was in the low to mid 80s, the sun was out, but we often rode in the shade of the back roads winding through the hinterland. Traffic was minimal and most importantly we had no dog incidents, not that the dogs didn't try. We were on high alert and called out boogies like fighter pilots. When contact was made we lit our afterburners to clear the hot zone. Since we had no offensive weapons we used stealth and speed to foil the dogs. According to Intel, we are still in enemy territory, so we will continue to remain vigilant.

Early in today's ride, Jere herd my gears clicking and clacking and said; "Gates! Are you doing that or is that your shifter?" I said; "Its not me, my shifter is acting squirrelly". A little further, Jere had enough. "Gates! I can't take all that noise, stop and let me check it out." After a very brief once over, Jere quickly concluded my shifter cable was fraying and about to snap, leaving me stuck in one gear on the mountain roads. I was incredulous of his conclusion, because the place where the cable was supposedly fraying was not obvious and Jere didn't look in that area. But, if there is one thing I learned on this trip (other than don't give a mechanic a clean-up rag) is, you don't ask Jere; "Are you sure?" Fortunately, the support team had regrouped from Day 30 and made it to the first rendezvous on time. Jere set up his bicycle stand and quickly replaced my shifter cable. Sure enough, the 20 strand cable was frayed and was hanging on by only 3 strands. Jere's diagnosis was spot on and a mechanical breakdown was averted.
We are scheduled to ride 99 miles into Haysi, Va. tomorrow, June 23rd and the forecast looks favorable.

Day 30 (6/21/09)

Today was the trifecta; One month on the road, Father's Day and the first day of summer. (We also crossed the 3,000 mile threshold.) We left Bardstown, Ky. under sunny, humid skies. For some reason our support team failed to catch up with us at their customary time of 2 hours. The last time they were late, they showed up with a speeding ticket. We were hoping their excuse was less benign. After 2 1/2 hours, 47 miles, and a few minutes after I drained my last water bottle, the support team finally appeared. Looking back over our shoulder to the west, the sky was turning ominous and moving our way, so we decided to make the stop a brief one and try and keep ahead of the storm clouds. We told the boys to meet us another 16 miles up the road for water, sustenance, and possibly rain gear. Long story short, the next time we saw the boys was at the hotel in Berea, Ky., 55 miles later (our total mileage logged for the day was 92). Although, we could see rain all around us, we somehow avoided getting wet. (St. Christopher at work?) We ran out of water with about 12 miles to go. Fortunately, at an intersection that should have had a convenience store, there was a church just letting out from its sermon. Tim asked the parishioners for some water, which they supplied and Tim graciously made a small donation to the church's general fund. Because of only one refueling stop and trying to out run the rain, we made good overall time and were able to get off the bikes earlier in the day than normal, only to spend the extra time and Father's Day at the luxurious Days Inn "resort", twenty years past its prime. Somebody said Berea is the gateway to the Appalachians (at least from the Kentucky side), so tomorrow we expect to be in the boondocks. Cell phone and wireless Internet availability may be sketchy for the next few days. (An advance sorry for those that look forward to starting their day with Dunkin Doughnut's coffee with their morning blog.) Tomorrow's forecast is a little dicier than today's, so we have a better chance of getting wet. Hopefully, it will be a little cooler in the hills and hollers of the Appalachians. Our goal for the day is to reach Hazard, Ky. 104 miles away and avoid getting bit by the dogs laying in wait for our passing. If all goes well, we will cross into Virginia late in the day, Tuesday. Tim's revised mission planning shows Monday, June 29th as our new end date, assuming our luck of the previous 30 days holds out.

P.S. An interesting observation. According to their blog, the three guys we met in Eureka, Co., on day 6 of our journey, (Roger from Australia, the guy from San Francisco and the Brit.) just crossed the Continental divide at Monarch pass yesterday. We crossed over the divide on day 15 of our ride, or 9 days after we met them. In the 23 days since we last saw them we gained 1,500 miles more than them or on average of 65 miles/day more!

P.S.S. See if you recognize anything in this article. http://www.eveningsun.com/ci_12656560

Days 27 - 29 (6/18/09 - 6/20/09)

Day 27 (6/18/09)
We left Carbondale, Il. striving to make a slight incursion into Kentucky before calling it a day. Approximately 84 miles into the day, we crossed the Ohio River by ferry at Cave In Rock, Il. On the eastern shore we gingerly disembarked the ferry (cycling shoes with cleats are not well suited for slippery boat ramps) and strode ashore in Kentucky. We spent the night 12 miles deep into the state in the small town of Marion, Ky. (96 miles for the day) We rode the day under a heat advisory, with heat index numbers again in the triple digits. Day 26’s heat and the loss of body weight (water) finally caught up to me. On the verge of cramping and not wanting to test the limits of heat exhaustion, I humbly rode on the heals of Jere and Tim for the last 30 miles. Earlier in the morning we passed a couple heading eastbound riding a tandem recumbent bike. The bike rode so low to the ground and low slung profile, I can not figure out how the couple made it this far without getting run over. A few miles down the road, Jere commented on what I had been thinking; “how do they make it up the hills?” A bright spot in the day was the last few miles in Illinois, on the road leading to the ferry crossing. We waved a car around that was riding behind us until it was safe to pass. The gentleman honked and waved as he passed by. A few miles later, he was standing at the end of his driveway, holding in the air, three cans of cold Mountain Dew soda. After our ugly welcome to Illinois and our “Mississippi river juggernaut”, the kindness of the stranger bid us a good farewell as we exited the state across the Ohio river.

Day 28 (6/19/09) 4 weeks
Our accommodations in Marion, Ky were barely adequate. We were the only guests at the hotel. We initially had no hot water to take showers. The Indian “running” the place told us; “just let the spigot run”. After 30 minutes, it was clear that would not solve the problem. Eventually, the manager figured out what knobs to turn in some back room and we had hot water. Problem #2, neither of our rooms got cool. Jere, finally had enough and went and complained. The remedy was to move us to two new rooms, where surprise, surprise, the air conditioners actually worked. Given the fact that there were no other guests at the place, was it intentional or was it just coincidental that we were placed in non-adjoining rooms with no hot water and faulty air conditioners? Wireless Internet was too much to expect from the accommodations. We left Marion under a heat advisory. The local FOX weatherman forecasted the weather as a “blowtorch”; just perfect for a 116 mile day. Although the heat was against us, we had a tailwind and gently rolling terrain, so we were able to cover the 116 miles with an average speed of 19.1 mph. We spent the night in Falls of Rough, Ky. (near Rough River Dam State Park Resort if that helps finding it on the map). Our accommodations were slightly better than in Marion. At least we had hot water, air conditioning, even a pool, but again no wireless Internet.
The Adventure Cyling map warned us to be careful of coal trucks along today’s route. To our pleasant surprise, today’s roads had some of the best road surfaces we encountered in any state, and the vehicles were by and large courteous and patient, and there were virtually no coal trucks. Although, the road surfaces were good, the width of the roads (even main roads) are not very wide. There are no speed limit signs, except for in towns; otherwise, its 55. The roads have no shoulders, white fog lines, or guard rails, just a serrated edge. We figured the serrated edge is to warn you a fraction of a second before you die as you sail off the edge of the road. Trucks take up the entire lane, left wheels hug the yellow line and the right wheels are inches from the serrated edge. The highlight of the day was meeting the mayor of Clay, Ky. at our first rest stop at the corner Kangaroo convenience store. (The mayor assured us; “it was no big deal, really”).
After 4 weeks on the road, with no days off, we are all exhausted. We unanimously agreed, that once this trip is checked off our Bucket List we have no desire to repeat the fete. We’ve ridden 2,892 miles (75.9% complete), averaging 103 miles/day @ 17.3 mph. We are averaging 5 hours, 58 minutes in the saddle per day. We have climbed a total of 151,939 feet. Tim is burning an average of 6,231 calories on the bike, Sam is burning an average of 7,454. (Jere’s bike computer is low tech.)

Day 29 (6/20/09)
Today we rode 98 miles to Bardstown, Ky. (about 45 miles south of Louisville, Ky. and a little less distance, southeast of Ft. Knox.). Early in the day, we lost an hour as we entered the Eastern Time Zone. The weather was sunny and still hit triple digits with the heat index, but it took a little longer for the temperature to become sweltering, so we felt a little better. The wind continued to blow at our backs, which made the ride more bearable too. The terrain and scenery is not anything we can not find back in Pa., so there is no desire to stop and Ooh and Ahh or take pictures. Quite some time ago, Jere became fed up with the “Scenic Byways” roads. He said he just wants a good road surface heading due east. (I can’t put what he actually said as it may offend some). Today, we passed a road sign for President Lincoln’s birthplace only 0.2 of a mile off our course and heading west. At the beginning of the trip, Jere bought a book about Lincoln, so here was an opportunity to see first hand where it all started. Jere agreed to head west the .2 miles and in so doing admitted he has finally gone soft and became a tourist. At the spot where Lincoln’s birthplace cabin supposedly stood, there was a grand marble structure which entombed the cabin. At the entrance, a sign warned of no food, drinks or flash photography. Inside the grand mausoleum was in fact a very small, old cabin. I asked the park ranger how old the structure was and he said; “which one?” I said; “Duh, the cabin”. With only one question from the lawyer, the whole charade was exposed. The ranger said that five years ago they actually dated the logs from the cabin and the logs aren’t old enough, so it couldn’t be the actual cabin Lincoln was born in, but he quickly added, the actual cabin stood close by somewhere. The grand marble structure was built in 1901 over somebody’s outhouse. Oops. Of course there were no signs mentioning the oversight, its better to keep up the ruse and just hope the lawyers with the pointed questions are far and few between.
We met a young kid (19, but he didn’t look a day over 15) from Holland traveling by himself. He left Yorktown, Va. the same weekend we left San Francisco and he only completed 25% of the distance, compared to our 75%. The kid had plastic soda bottles for water bottles, the rest of his equipment (and physicality) looked only slightly better. Of all the people we passed, I deemed him the most likely not to finish.
Tomorrow, Father’s Day marks one month on the road. Our destination is 96 miles to Berea, Ky. According to the lore of the road, between Berea and the Virginia line we are into the thick of unleashed dog territory.

Day 24 & 25 revisited, Day 26 (6/17/09)

Day 24 (6/15/09)
During the evening hours a front went through, but skis were clear for the start of Monday's ride. We left with the forecast of strong afternoon thunderstorms. We left Marshfield, Mo. with the intention of riding 136 miles, through the thick of the Ozarks. Fortunately, St. Christopher was watching out for me again. About 63 miles into the ride, just shy of Houston, Mo. (in Texas County of all places) we encountered rain. Nothing horrible, but of course, it started while we were on the busiest, most treacherous road we encountered that day. We rode in the light rain, southbound into Houston, about 4 miles, and only because St. Christopher was watching out for me, we missed our left hand turn to the east. That necessitated a stop to look at the map and the very dark clouds in the direction we were to turn. "Damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead" Jere wanted to go, time was a waste'n. Tim and I could not convince Jere to err on the side of caution and to take shelter. Fortunately, the support team pulled up, and Jere's son, Josh said; "Dad, there's lightening where you're heading". That convinced Jere, that maybe we should look for shelter. Fortunately, right beside us was this big metal lightening rod of a shelter, a car wash, that we took refuge in, and none too soon because the storm quickly was upon us.
When the rain let up a little, we ran next door to a Chinese restaurant for lunch to wait out the storm, while the support team stayed in the car wash with the van and watched (not washed) the bikes. Here is where St. Christopher comes in. Because of the rain delay, we no longer had time to ride the 136 miles, so we had to shorten the day to only 108 miles thereby spending the night in Eminence, Mo. Eminence was smack dab in the middle of the Ozarks, with steep accents and decents; another 28 miles would have done me in. Even the next morning, with fresh legs, that 28 miles out of Eminence was not an easy task. I again thanked St. Christopher for the weather delay and the resulting shortened mileage day. We all survived to ride again another day.

Day 25 (6/16/09)
Just as the evening before, storms passed through the area overnight, but we awoke to weather radar and the local news stations broadcasting a second line of sever weather moving toward our direction. Jere, still in the go, go, go mode, was ultimately convinced to wait this storm out, on one condition, we had to agree to leave no later than noon, no matter what. Tim and I conceded. Fortunately, the storm passed and by noon the rain had stopped, we only had to deal with wet roads for a short period of time before the hot, humid weather dried them up. With our latest start of the trip, we still logged 92 miles for the day, putting us into Farmington, Mo. about 6:00 p.m. Again, St. Christopher was watching out for me. Because Jere and Tim were cheated out of the 136 miles on Monday, they set that as their goal on Tue. and wanted to make it across the Mississippi. Tuesday was spent riding through the meat of the Ozarks in hot and humid weather. We barely limped in with 92 miles, the 40 additional miles to the Illinois state line would have done us all in. Since we are on a timeline to make Yorktown, Va. by Sunday, June 28th, if we continue to log 100 miles per day, something we have been able to do so far, Jere and Tim have stopped pushing for the 136 mile day. Little to do they know, St. Christopher has my back on this one.

Flat tire tally: Jere - 3, Sam - 2, Tim - 2. Not to be outdone by Jere and Sam each getting a flat tire within moments of each other in Utah, Tim out bests them, but getting simultaneous flat tires and losing his water bottle all on one particularly tough railroad crossing.

Day 26 (6/17/09)

Today's weather adversity was the temperature, not thunderstorms. Before we began this trip, Tim had aspirations of logging a 200 mile day. He figured with a good tailwind and the flats of Kansas, we could accomplish the fete. Unfortunately, the winds in Kansas failed to blow in the right direction. We did accomplish a double-double; however, not in miles. Today we rode 106 miles (10 more than we planned due to navigational dysfunction) in 106 degree weather (heat index measured at the end of ride). At the beginning of the day I weighed 190.5 lbs and after the ride I weighed 184.5 lbs!

The crossing of the Mississippi was supposed to be a momentous occasion, to be relished. In stead it was an anticlimactic, death defying crossing. We crossed the Mississippi at Chester Il, (famous for the Popeye illustrator). The last 12 miles of Missouri, leading to the Mississippi, across the levee and flood plane, was a heavily traveled roadway, with no shoulders, congested with coal trucks outnumbering passenger vehicles 3 to 1 and everybody was hell bent on going some place fast. The 2 lane bridge crossing the Mississippi had no shoulder, and the fog line, smack against the bridge railing, was missing huge chunks of concrete. To top it off, the expansion joints were every so slightly narrower than our road bike tires. There was absolutely no opportunity to admire the view of the river or relish the milestone, because death by coal truck was omnipresent. On the Illinois side of the river, at Chester, there was a small pull over, with a "Welcome to Illinois" sign, a bronze statute of Popeye and a port-a-potty, where we stopped to eat and thank our good fortune for surviving the gauntlet. We finally made our planned destination of Carbondale, Il, home of Southern Illinois University and the fighting Salukis (strikes fear in you doesn't it?) . http://siusalukis.cstv.com/ot/saluki-mascot.html . Thursday's goal is Marion, Ky., 100 miles hither.

Day 24 & 25 (6/15 /09 & 6/16/09)

Yes we are still alive! Due to sever weather in Missouri, which played havoc with our schedule, (and lack of Internet Monday evening) I have been unable to keep the blog updated. Tomorrow's weather looks better. If all goes well, we will cross the Mississippi in the late morning and arrive early afternoon in Carbondale, Il. on Wed. 6/17, allowing me time to update the Blog. Briefly, we spent Sunday evening in Marshfield, Mo.; spent Monday evening in Eminence, Mo.; and are spending Tuesday, 6/16 in Farmington, Mo.

Day 23 (6/14/09)

The only good thing about today is we can check off another state, we are now in Missouri. In the middle of the night we were awakened to the sound of thunder. When the alarm sounded at 6:00 a.m., we assumed correctly that we were in for a rain delay. Tim and I fell back asleep while Jere gorged himself on the free breakfast offered by the hotel. After Tim finally crawled out of bed he fired up his laptop to examine the Accu Weather radar for the area. Pittsburg was in the middle of two fronts, moving west to east. The dilemma was whether we continue to stand down and await the passing of the second front or do we go for it and hope to out run it. With the sun temporarily shining and the puddles drying up, we decided to launch at about 9:30 a.m.. In the hotel room we dressed for a cold rainy day, but as soon as we hit the parking lot we quickly stripped down as the weather was already hot and sticky. Tim and I fitted our bikes with our quick fitting fenders for the foul weather sure to overtake us. Ultimately, we never did get wet, from the rain, but we were soaked with perspiration from the hot, humid weather. We either out ran the front or it broke apart behind us. Almost as soon as we left Kansas the terrain changed to steep climbs and descents, similar to southern York County. Jere was in his element and Tim and I were exhausted from the cumulative 100+ days. Ultimately, we had to cry; "Uncle" and Jere reluctantly backed down and pulled us along for the last 50 miles of our 116 mile day. We made it to Marshfield, Mo. for the night, our goal for the day. Tomorrow's planned destination is 136 miles away. Tim and I already sat Jere down (over Dairy Queen Blizzards) and told him tomorrow's goal is to finish, not to set a speed record. Besides we anticipate being into the thick of the Ozarks and the climbs and descents will be even steeper.

P.S. No Slide Show for today, the only picture we took was the obligatory "Welcome to Missouri" pose. The landscape in eastern Missouri is identical to south eastern York County. Just drive to Fawn Grove, look around and you will see what we saw today. No need to take pictures of that.

Day 22 (6/13/09)

Thanks to the fact that Eureka, Ks. sucks like its vacuum cleaner namesake, we got up and out of there early, fueled by our Pop Tarts. Fortunately, 22 miles into the ride we found a great little Cafe in Toronto, Ks., managed by a Daytona Beach, Fl. expatriate (She also managed the local Deli and liquor store, those three establishments generally consisting of the entire town), where we had a great breakfast. We would need it. Jere, simply won't rely on clicking his heals together to get home, he's driving Tim and I harder each day. Despite fighting a headwind virtually the entire day, we arrived on the outskirts of Pittsburg (I was reminded that although Pittsburg was named after Pittsburgh, Pa., the people of Kansas either couldn't spell or wanted their own little identity so they dropped the "h") with an average speed of 19.7 mph over the 120 miles. I asked Jere between gasps of air, whether he ever heard of the concept of going to the well too often; at some point there won't be anything left, and we still have a ways to go. (We've ridden in excess of 100 miles, 12 out of the last 14 days.). Jere said something to the effect that if you had public water you wouldn't need the damn well and he dropped to another gear and picked up the pace. The only tried and true method I've discovered to catch a real breather (besides taking pictures of cows lying in beds of flowers) is to call for a pee break. Even though I don't have to go, the old goats with the shrinking prostrates hit the air breaks and stop almost immediately.

Tom of our support team, is a huge Penn State fan, plus he's never been outside Pa. before, so he thinks the whole world knows who Joe Paterno is. To test his theory, at breakfast in Toronto, Jere asked one of the two patrons in the Cafe, who was the coach of Penn State. We didn't ask "coach of PSU", because he would have quickly rattled off the name of the coach of the Pittsburg State University fighting gorillas, which would have stupefied us. He hemmed and hawed, said he knew it, but couldn't quite come up with the name. I said; "Okay, who is the coach of FSU?" (He of course knew I was talking about my Alma Matter and not Frostburg State or Fresno State.) Without hesitation he said; "Bobby Bowden". I said; "the PSU coach is neck and neck with Bowden for wins". That triggered it and he came up with Paterno's name. Point of fact, Bowden is more universally known than Paterno outside of Pennsylvania. Sorry Tom.


Eastern Kansas is getting us ready for eastern Kentucky as we have had to out sprint some unleashed dogs a couple of times today. So far, we are winning the sprints of the unleashed dogs, but .... As we were riding along, not paying particular attention, we heard the sounds of dogs barking to our right. Immediately, heads snapped right to determine our fate, when we noticed the dogs were; a) greyhounds and b) inside separate dog runs, parallel to the road for at least 200 yards. Jere, being the ex-racer, but still looking for a good race whenever he can, took off. The greyhound, probably an ex-racer too, saw Jere and took off too. Jere gave it all he could, hitting 38 mph. Tim and I watched as the greyhound simply kept pace with Jere, but it was clear the dog had some reserve before he hit the end of the run. Jere on the other hand, was toast for awhile. Hopefully, the Kentuckians can't afford greyhounds or if they can, they too keep them in a pen because if Jere can't beat them, Tim and I will be chew toys.
Tomorrow we cross into Missouri about 5 miles outside of Pittsburg, Ks. The Ozark Mountains await us. I actually look forward to the change of terrain,. Hopefully, the hills will break the wind and give us a chance to get out of the saddle to peddle, offering some much needed relief to the glut muscles.

Day 21 (6/12/09)

Today marks three weeks on the road. We were a bit apprehensive about starting today after two hotel parking lot mishaps. First, last evening we heard this crash and smashing glass. We opened our doors to see across the parking lot, somebody ran their car over the curb and into the side of the hotel restaurant wall. Then, this morning a man & his wife started off on their touring Harley Davidson, but unfortunately forgot to disengage the front wheel lock. The bike came to an abrupt stop, tipping over on the woman. Knowing bad luck comes in threes and because it was pouring rain, we turned off the alarm and went back to sleep until the storms passed. We monitored the storms on the weather channel and the computer and after the coast was clear we left at our latest start time yet; 11:30. Fortunately, that put the kibosh to Tim's mission planning for a 136 mile day. Instead, we did a mere 72 miles and are bivouacking in Eureka, Ks. The accommodations are the worst to date. Also, for the first time the group is split between two different hotels. Dinner was also the worst to date. We ate at a Chinese-American Buffet attached to the local bowling alley (which looked like it hadn't seen a gutter ball in years, andthe food was cooked in the alley). Eureka completed the bad luck trilogy. The dirge of eating establishments has left us no place to eat breakfast in the morning. So, we bought some Pop Tarts at a convenience store for our breakfast and commanded the support team not to let us out on the road too long without proper sustenance. While looking for some place to eat, we found the local park. It was dotted with tents. We discovered the group of about 20 riders heading west bound that we heard about a couple of days ago. For the first time I think I'd rather be camping and eating over a Coleman.

I spoke too soon yesterday when I said the countryside looked like Adams County. Today, the landscape opened back up and people and towns were far and few between. If Australia is where England put all their criminals, Eureka is where Kansas put all their miscreants; I will never complain again about my brothers and sisters at the Jefferson Fireman's Carnival.



We are happy to say that every cyclist we now encounter heading west has further to go than we do. We have completed 2,133 miles and are 56% complete. Our average speed is 17.2 mph and our average miles/ day is 101 miles. We are on the eastern edge of Tornado Alley and tomorrow's weather looks good for an early start and rain free day. Saturday's destination is 121 miles to Pittsburgh, Ks., a tad shy of the Missouri border. Jere is clicking his heels three times and repeating, "There's no place like home". Tim and I agree.

Day 20 (6/11/09)

Even yesterday's soaking put a frown on Jere, the Cheshire cat. We awoke to the only rain cloud in all of Kansas and none of us were anxious to get on the road. Our goal was 106 miles due east. We've been averaging a little less than 6 hours in the saddle, so we figured we could leave as late as noon and still get off the road well before sundown. We waited out the rain in the hotel's breakfast nook. There we met a young man,Greg Evans, from the U.K., who recently graduated from high school and is experiencing the U.S. on a bike before starting the University. He is already smarter than most of the blokes we've encountered. Although he is traveling solo and packing gear, he is at least spending most evenings in hotels as opposed to camping. Like the fellow we encountered the other day, Greg also has a blog that he updates with his IPhone. He has no need for solar panels, as the hotel electrical outlets work just fine. His web site is: http://www.gregstransamericacycle.co.uk/

After conversing with Greg for awhile, Tim and Jere took the support vehicle on a recon mission to determine the bredth of the rain cloud hanging over our head. They reported back that just five miles out of town the coast was clear. So, we reluctantly suited up, prepared for rain, although it had stopped by now, and headed down the road. Unlike the ride into Larner the night before, the ride out of Larner was on virtually desolate roads. Even our tried and true method of getting a car to appear out of nowhere didn't work, we could and did pee with careless abandon. At every support vehicle rendezvous, we either donned or doffed rain gear because the sky was giving us mixed signals. Ultimately, with about 2 hours left in the day, the sun came out for good and we were down to short sleeves and SPF 30. We made our 106 miles to Newton, Ks. (about 8 miles north of Wichita), which I figure is Kansas' geographic equivalent to Harrisburg; a little north of Oklahoma, and closer to Missouri than Colorado. This part of the state reminds me of Adams County or the lowlands of North and South Carolina. The land is gently rolling, the fields are outlined with tree and hedgerows, and you can't see the horizon. The humidity is increasing and there are more homes and the towns are more frequent. You definitely get the sense you are leaving the west behind and making the transition to the east. The big difference though, is the driver's are still patient and generally will give you a wide berth and won't pass unless a wide berth can be given. They actually adhere to the road signs; "Share the Road".

We are still eating anything and everything we can get our hands on. Everything tastes good except the Power Bars Jere bought in bulk before the trip. We now only use them for ballast and eat them out of sheer desperation, like when the support vehicle is delayed by fainting women in Subway or speed traps.

The theory is the prevailing wind blows from the west. We are; however, experiencing a metorological oddity, because the wind has been blowing from every quadrant of the compass rose with an easterly vector ever since we left Pueblo, Co. Yet we push on because this is our vacation and we are having fun!

P.S. No Slide show for today, there really wasn't much to look at. Although, Jere did allow me to stop and take a picture of a cow laying in some flowers. He believes we all finally lost our manhood, me for taking such a picture and he for agreeing to stop for the photo op. Tim remained neutral, but is guilty by association.

Day 19 (6/10/09)

You know its not going to be a good day when Jere shows up at your hotel door at 6:00 a.m. with a Cheshire cat grin and holding rain fenders for your bike. (At least it was our hotel door and not our tent flap.) Fortunately, by the time we ate breakfast, the early morning rain had passed and the morning breeze had dried most of the water from the streets. Yet the day remained overcast and gloomy. I wore my amber glasses for the first time. Today's target destination was Larned, Ks., about 2/5ths of the way through Ks. and 120 miles from breakfast. The support team was later than usual meeting us for our first refueling. They typically find us about 2 hours after our start. Today, they were about a half hour late. They first had to deal with a medical emergency at Subway and wait for the ambulance. It was our support team that offered medical assistance until the ambulance arrived. (A diabetic lady passed out and cracked her head on the floor). Behind the power curve, the support team tried to make up time, but unfortunately the local law enforcement (who are allowed to use radar, unlike in Pa.) landed a couple of young fellas wearing Pink Floyd and Metallica T-Shirts. Fortunately, the copper believed their story about supporting a couple of old guys and didn't search the van packed with duffel bags. (Did you know pot is often packaged with sweaty Spandex to throw off the drug dogs?) Because the offender is presumed innocent, I will not divulge his identity, but you got a 50 -50 shot of guessing who. As we passed through Alexander, Ks., nothing more than a grain silo, we marked the half-way point in miles between San Francisco and Yorktown, Va. Looking at the map, we figured we would be in Kentucky by now, if the route through the mountains was as straight as the course we are on now. Ultimately, God saw fit that we should actually use the fenders Jere made us put on our bikes in the morning, by making it rain. It rained for at least the last 30 miles into Larned. If the rain didn't make it miserable enough, the road spray from the trucks made it worse. Despite having tail and headlights, we were all stressed from worrying about our visibility to traffic approaching us from behind. We made it in one piece, soaked through and through. Jere started stripping out of his wet gear outside his hotel door and Tim and I quickly emulated the veteran. After warm showers and food, we were no worse for the wear. Tomorrow morning, if I hear a knock on my door and I see Jere with a grin from ear to ear through the peep hole, I'm not answering, nothing good could come of it.

Day 18 (6/9/09)

Today was another sprint to the East Coast. We left Eads, Co., and directly into the rising sun. We started with no wind and so were able to make good time, so much time that we entered the Central Time Zone (kinda like the Twilight Zone, but not as spooky). The last 40 miles of roads in Colorado were old concrete roads, covered with asphalt. Every few feet, every body part connected to the bike, whether covered in padded Spandex or not, were jarred by the expansion joints. Upon entering Kansas the road surface became a lot smoother. But with the good, came the bad. The closer we got to our day's destination, Scott City, Ks., the truck traffic picked-up. Although most of the trucks gave us a wide berth, it only took a few blowing by at well above the posted 65 mph speed limit to unnerve us. Most of the trucks were cattle trucks that reeked of cow dung; wide berth or not their passing essence lingered. Scott City was 103 miles from Eads. If the winds were optimal we were going to try to make the next town, 23 miles further. However, the winds picked up and began blowing out of the north-east, slowing our pace and will to endure. Despite the increasing wind, we were able to average 20.7 mph for the 103 miles. (At one point we had an average of 22 mph!). About 20 miles from Scott City, we encountered a west bound truck hauling hay, hell bent on passing a car. We were riding the fog line, as it swung into our east bound lane, both stacks belching smoke. We certainly saw it coming, but we don't know if he/she ever saw us as he/she passed the car and us going, in my professional opinion, at a speed well in excess of good judgement and prudence. The blast from the bow wave of air as the truck went by us severely buffeted us, but fortunately we all, having been steeled by the mountains, held our line. But, we were rattled and decided time to get off the road while the getting was good. As we got closer to Scott City, we encountered huge cattle operations on either side of the road. The stink was different, yet the same as the Glatfelter paper mill. We assume the locals think cow poop smells like money too.

Again, we passed several cyclists heading west bound, all loaded down; we passed none going our way.

The weather was good today, comfortable, not too hot or cold, and no threat of rain or the dreaded tornadoes. The local paper said the cooler than normal temperatures and wetter weather has delayed the winter wheat harvest for another week or two. So far so good for cycling, if not harvesting.

Day 17 (6/8/09)

Today was BORING, yet for me probably the hardest. The 111 miles from Pueblo to Eads, Co. was virtually straight as an arrow east and slightly undulating terrain. The wind again blew from the starboard. (Had the wind been blowing across the stern, we would have made a run for the Kansas border today. We sit 40 miles shy of America's bread basket.) One would think that a cross wind would neither be an advantage or a disadvantage. It is definitely a disadvantage. Traffic permitting (which was most of the day) we rode echelon to the left, with the rider on the right hugging the fog line, with the other two riders, slightly back and to the left of the rider to the right. We continuously rotated through the formation to rest in the leeward side. (The two 5' 9" guys didn't completely offer protection to the the 6' 2" guy, so after 100 miles Jere offered a nudge to the big guy to help him get out in front for his turn to pull. What probably made the day the hardest was there was no relief from peddling. At least in the mountains, the downhills offered relief to the peddle, peddle, peddle, peddle, ...

A sign of the economic times was the seemingly endless line of Union Pacific train car carriers mothballed for at least 15 miles on the tracks east of Sugar City, Co. See slide show.

Today we passed two young ladies, pulling bike trailers, heading west on their coast-to-coast. Later at the restaurant next to our hotel, we met Chris Hill, from Tuscon, Az. Chris had left Oregon and joined our route in Pueblo, heading to the east coast. Since Chris left Oregon in April, he has logged in excess of 2,000 miles with another 2,000 + miles to go. He had the most unique bike we've seen; sort of a pick-up truck on wheels or a tandem bike with the back seat converted to a cargo bed. We exchanged blog sites, his is http://zomgforeelz.wordpress.com/ Chris is blogging using his Apple IPhone as his computer, which he recharges with solar panels while he rides.

We are officially in tornado alley and will be vulnerable through most of Kansas. Yesterday afternoon, as we were rolling into Pueblo, Denver, just 2 hours north, got hit with five twisters and hail. Tornadoes that far west are supposedly a rare occurrence. I won't feel safe (from tornadoes and hail) until after we cross the Mississippi. Apparently east of the Mississippi the thing to fear are the untethered, front porch dogs of the Kentucky hillbillies.

Flat tire tally: Jere: 3, Sam: 2, Tim: 0

P.S. In our depleted stupor we failed to include photos of Day 15, the EPIC DAY in our slide show of Day 15 & 16. New pictures have been added, documenting that glorious day.

Day 16 (6/7/09)

Dateline: Pueblo, Co. Sixteen days on the road and we finally descended out of the mountains. We conquered the mountainous west at its widest part and not only endured, but became stronger and leaner. At this point, our legs and endurance are not failing us, what makes us want to get off the bike are those parts of the anatomy that touch the bike. Also, after 6-8 hours of peddling you just get danged bored.

Our coup de gras was yesterday's epic ride. After we already rode 100 miles, we assaulted the highest summit of the entire route, Monarch Pass, (11,312'). See GPS download below Posting. We descended into Salina, Co. setting a new record for the most miles ridden; 130 miles in slightly more than 8 hours of saddle time. (After Day 14's near death experience, I actually did not look forward to the decent. If I applied too much brake, I ran the risk of over heating my rims, which could cause a tire to blow; really bad news. If I didn't brake enough, going into hair pin curves hot, without guard rails; you get the picture. Jere, the ex-racer, attacked the downhill. He confessed to never using his brakes and getting as aero as possible. Today, he even passed a car, and pulled up beside a motorcycle, who gave him the naughty finger, before Jere backed off). Day 15's effort was not all our own doing, your well wishes and prayers gave us a strong tailwind and sunny skies across the summit. Our grand total of feet climbed over the 16 days was 103,716' (just shy of 20 miles of vertical climbing). We have averaged 101 miles/day with an average speed of 16.5 mph (Our average speed only factors saddle time and not total time). Tonight, Jere put aero bars on our bikes for the flat roads ahead. With a tailwind behind us, we have already comfortably held a 30 mph average. With little to sight see in the Midwest, weather permitting we hope to make good eastward progress. We may make Kansas and the Central Time Zone, tomorrow, if the winds are favorable.

Although our goal is to ride across the U.S. within Sam & Jere's allotted time (remember, Tim is retired, what the hell else does he have to do?) we do take time to enjoy the beauty of our surroundings. Jere confesses to having extremely good peripheral vision, so he can see sights without moving his head. We now affectionately call him an Iguana. I on the other hand, am constantly looking around; it drives Jere nuts. He said I look like one of those Chiuaua dogs in the back window of a car with my head bouncing all around. Through our joint efforts we spotted elk, mule deer, prong horned sheep, antelope, and a prairie dog. Unfortunately, no big horned sheep and fortunately, no mountain lions. Over the several days, we have passed several burdened down cyclists, going in our direction and the opposite direction. We have yet to encounter any cyclists doing the trans continent supported. At the end of each day, as we sip our cold beer after having a shower, we toast to the fact that; "gee isn't it nice we aren't setting up our tent now?"

Day 15 (6/6/09)

EPIC DAY! Too tired to write. I will give details at the end of Day 16. Spending the night in Salida, Co.; on the eastern side of the Continential Divide. Destination for Day 16 is Pubelo, Co.

Day 14 (6/5/09)

Two weeks on the road! For the engineer types that are following our trip, here are a few stats. We covered a total of 1,383.5 miles (98.8 miles/day). Climbed a total of 89,461 feet (if we were astronauts, at what level of the atmosphere would we be? outer space?). Sam burned 100,865 calories (7,204/day) (now down from a chunky 198 to a svelte 191 lbs. Jere is maintaining the 40 lb weight differential, he's down to 149 lbs). Today we covered 122 miles at an average speed of 17.5 mph (thanks to two great descents from summits and a tailwind), and climbed a total of 7,466'. Two days left in the mountains, and we are on schedule to finish by June 29th.

When I left for college, my high school sweet heart, (now my wife of almost 28 years), gave me a St. Christopher's medallion to wear. Back in the late 70s, when disco was raging, you had to wear some sort of medallion, even if you weren't Italian. At some point during the early Reagan era, I took off the medallion only for it to reappear before this trip. My wife re-gifted it to me to keep me safe for this journey. My daily ritual is to put it on each morning when pulling on the Lycra. Today, the patron saint of travel worked overtime. On the second decent of the day, after cresting the Dallas Divide at 9,000', we quickly shifted to maximum gears for the decent. Jere took off, followed by me, then Tim, and the support team brought up the rear guard. The road was particularly rough, and I tried to follow Jere's line through the rough spots. At some point, exceeding 50 mph, I lost sight of Jere's line, and found my own bumps. Suddenly, my whole bike began shaking violently. I thought I blew a front tire and was riding on my rim. It was all I could do to hold the front wheel pointing down hill. I couldn't remember in my panic, which brake lever was the front brake and which was the back brake, so I gingerly applied pressure to both to try and slow down. With virtually no steering, I went where the bike took me, holding on desperately and trying not to let the front wheel turn at an angle that would cause me to flip. I drifted across the right hand lane and I believe even into the on coming lane. The traffic on the road had been busy, but thanks to St. Christopher, there was a break in the traffic. Even as I began to slow, the oscillation did not diminish until the bike was completely stopped. I was able to maneuver the bike back to the right shoulder where I was able to finally able to stop. Tim witnessed the whole episode and knew I was in trouble; he wasn't sure what was happening, but thought my wheel was disintegrating. After I was stopped, Tim checked my bike and nothing was amiss? Still white as a ghost, I gingerly continued down the mountain, riding my brakes. At the bottom, Jere had realized we were not right behind him and had turned around and started heading back up, where we met him. (Jere topped out at 58 mph on the decent.) I told him of my near death experience, and he nonchalantly said; "Oh, yeah, light bikes sometimes osculate at high speeds, all you need to do is squeeze the top tube with one or both knees". If they put warning stickers on ladders telling you not to place them on uneven ground, or caution, "Coffee is HOT", why isn't there a sticker on my bike, or a GPS warning, or words of wisdom from my mechanic BEFORE hand, that light carbon fiber bikes can experience severe osculation at high speeds? I told Jere not to hold anything more back, tell me what other secrets he knows that can save my life. He said; "Don't ever hand a mechanic a cleaning rag again, while he's working on your bike." Thanks to St. Christopher and the techniques I picked up while watching Professional Bull Riding (actually falling asleep to it while my wife watches it), I live to write about it. Tomorrow's decent out of the 11,000' Monarch Pass, will be very conservative, I don't want to rely too much on St. Christopher's benevolence.

Day 13 (6/4/09)

True to form, today was an easy day. "Easy" and "flat" have become relative terms; we knocked off 81.7 miles on "flat" terrain, staying generally at the 7,000' elevation; with only 5,124' of total climbing. In my prior life, those numbers would have been great numbers for a weekend of riding. We left Blanding, Ut. at the late hour of 9:00 a.m. M.T. and unceremoniously crossed into Colorado about 35 miles into the ride and completing about 1/3 of the journey across the U.S. After the spectacular scenery of the past three days, today's ride was rather boring. The sky was overcast and the terrain was nondescript (except for the Rockies looming on the horizon). Now that we were off the "Scenic Byways" of Utah, the volume of traffic, especially trucks, increased, making the ride stressful and noisy. Even the winds were mediocre, not a headwind, not a tailwind, just straight across the starboard beam. Tonight we are resting in Dolores, Co. Later tonight we will gather at a highly recommended Brew Pub to plan tomorrow's attack on Lizard Head Pass at 10,222'; our second highest summit. The same gentleman that recommended the Brew Pub, said the wind generally blows up the mountain, but the weather changes rapidly. This time we will have our support team on a short leash and our winter gear prepositioned for rapid donning. Tomorrow's destination is Montrose, Co., 121 miles away. The support team is eagerly anticipating a Friday night in a different state and anxious to see what kind of women come out of the mountains for lady's night in Montrose.
No slide show of pictures from today; hopefully, Friday's attack on the western Rockies will be picturesque.

Day 12 (6/3/09)

Today was the third and final day of penance for last Sunday's 55 mile "easy" day. As a result we are now redefining an "easy" day as 83 miles (Tomorrow's ride) to avoid another three days of hell. Although today had no major climbs, of the 125 leg between Hanksville, Ut. and Blanding, Ut., the final 80 was generally uphill. We were feeling frisky in the morning and took advantage of the more downs than ups on the road to Lake Powell. We clicked off 39 miles at a pace of 21 mph. We made such great time that the support team, once they caught up to us, told us if they went another few miles without seeing us, they were going to turn around and look for us in a ditch, figuring there is no way we could have gone that far. Ultimately and despite the climbing we ended the day with an average speed of 16.6 mph, thanks in part to a tail wind, at last!
Speaking of speeds, I have owned my Garmin GPS for a few years and never noticed the warning that flashes; "SLOW DOWN". It seems to appear above 45 mph. Above 50 mph, it just gives up or maybe I just can't read it anymore because of the tears streaming out of my eyes from the wind. I'm sure the legal department of Garmin had something to do with the disclaimer. If I were on the legal team, I would have the programmers add a message that displays after 100 miles; "GET OFF THE BIKE NOW, SERIOUS INJURY MAY RESULT!"
Despite the fact that our support team is generally close by at all times (except for the close call on the mountain two days ago), we are all comforted by the fact that despite no 911 call boxes placed intermittently along the desolate highway, help is never far away if something happens. It finally dawned on us that as soon as we stop in the middle of nowhere to vent our excess hydration, a car comes by. So the plan is if anyone of us gets hurt and needs medical attention, the other two will look both ways to make sure nobody is coming, drop trowel, and presto, help will be there Johnny on the spot.
As I mentioned earlier, we generally had a tailwind and clear skies, with no threat of rain. Despite applications of SPF 30 sunblock, we are all turning a golden brown. Other than being fatigued, nobody has any afflictions that will require a medivac back to the east coast, or worse yet, a ride in the support van.
We appreciate the feedback on the Postings and the support from family, friends, and voyeurs. Tomorrow, we are down three states and enter Colorado.

Day 10 & 11 (June 1 & 2)

June 1st was the day of many firsts. For Jere and I it was the furthest either of us have ever ridden in one day, 126 miles (Tim has ridden 141 miles). For all three of us, it was the longest time in the saddle, 8 hrs (total time from start to finish over 11 hrs), and highest elevation ridden at, 10,560'. The day started pleasant enough, a 2 two hour climb from Cedar City to the top of the mountain. We stopped at the false summit (about 9,500') to rest with our support vehicle. We became enthralled with a helicopter logging operation and forget to emphasize to our support crew that a turn in the route was just ahead. After the pit stop, the support vehicle took off as we made a short decent. As we made our right hand turn to climb to the real summit, we watched helplessly as the support vehicle motored straight ahead to a rendezvous point that never would be. There was no cell phone coverage to contact the boys, so we only hoped they would eventually wonder why we never appeared and would come looking for us. As we climbed to the summit, in our summer weight gear, the temperature started dropping and the sky darkened. Just short of the summit we encountered a park area with restrooms. When we noticed cars descending from the top with slush buildup on their windshields, we quickly made preparations to bivouac in the rest rooms to wait out the storm else die of hypothermia. Suddenly, Jere heard the roar of his new Chrysler minivan's engine gunning up the mountain towards us, it was the support team to the rescue! We quickly rummaged through our bags and dug out our winter gear. After donning the winter gear, off we went, not happy, but determined. A little later we changed from our wet, winter gear in the bathroom of a sub shop and forged ahead. By the time we got to our destination, in Escalante, Ut, we also set another first, the most biking clothes worn in one day. We were rewarded for the misery suffered on the mountain by the stunning scenery at every turn in the road. Words can not describe the grander and beauty. The slide show is just a sampling of what we saw. (It has come to my attention that some people do not realize our GPS download data can be viewed too, scroll down below the Postings to view).

Today, Day 11 we were slow and plodding. Collectively we were beat from yesterday's ride. Jere was dejected because he never had an average speed as low as we were going. After stopping for a late lunch, (we actually ate 3 lunches and still bonked before ending for the day) we realized why our speed was so low, we had been doing a gradual climb all morning. We actually had a reason for being slow and plodding. In the middle of the day's ride, we climbed to the second highest elevation any of us have ridden at, 9,500'. The rest of the day was a long gradual decent to our destination for the day, Hanksville, Ut. Again, the scenery was spectacular. Unfortunately, my posterior could not relish the view, so it stayed miserable all day. We again had to don our rain gear in the desert, but avoided a total soaking. Tomorrow, Day 12 will be another long day, generally climbing all day, with little civilization between here and our destination 122 miles away in Blanding, Ut.

Day 10 (6/1/09)

It is now 11:43 E.S.T. as I write this, while sitting in a laundry room at an RV campground. We didn't get off our bikes until 9:00 E.S.T., 8 hours of saddle time! There is a lot to write about this day, but I'm too tired. Although, tomorrow is a long mileage day, hopefully, it will be less eventful and allow us to get off the bike sooner. I will try to recap today as well as Day 11 tomorrow, June 2nd.

Day 9 (5/31/09)

In observance of the Sabbath and Joseph Smith http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Smith,_Jr., we had a short and unproductive day, 55 miles due south (no eastward progress) to Cedar City, Ut., the biggest city we've been to since we left Carson City, Nv. and probably the next real civilization until we reach Pueblo, Co. in a week. Even our support team rested (still recovering from the big Friday night in downtown Ely, Nv. and the squaws from the nearby reservation). Leaving us unsupported for the duration; they pulled along side, just as we entered Cedar City. Tim and I enjoyed our short day and lodging, resting for tomorrow's 131 mile day and highest climb yet; 10,450' (climbing from 5,800' out of Carson City).

There was no rest; however, for the team mechanic. Jere had to clean-up and lube the bikes from yesterday's rain and hail. (I just wish he would keep his greasy hands off my white seat). I enjoyed sitting in the sun, evening out my farmer's a.k.a. biker's tan, while I watched Jere work.

There is rumor of a conspiracy between Tim and Jere, plotting a deviation from the route through southern Pennsylvania enroute to the Maryland/Delaware coast, rather than Yorktown, Va. If the rumors have any merit, any course deviations will be announced here. Stay tuned.

I didn't have time to research the law of Utah, but if anybody has time to research; is it against the law to smuggle beer into Utah from Nevada and drink it on Sunday? Speaking of law, henceforth my profession will be a mortician or actuary. While dining on a pumpkin chocolate cookie yesterday, some old man trying to make conversation with the three Spandex Amigos asked me, "What do you do?" Of course I couldn't lie. Without batting an eye, out came the lawyer jokes. A little later, while donning my helmet, as Jere and Tim rode away, I got a legal question. Something to the effect, that when he was in a McDonalds in Missouri, he got upset with somebody, who punched him in the mouth. The police were called and offered to press no charges against either or charge both. He wanted the offender prosecuted, so both were charged. Ultimately, the prosecutor said he didn't have enough to charge the guy, yet he was found guilty of Disorderly Conduct. The legal question, after the facts was, "How can that happen?" Seeing Jere and Tim peddle out of sight, I quickly offered my advise; "Stuff happens" and rode off.

Day 8 (5/30/09)

What a difference a day makes! Yesterday we were giddy with our grand 12 1/2 mile decent to end the day and a perfect conclusion to Week 1. We started a little later than we had the past few days, primarily because we had a half hour drive back to yesterday's ending place. For a change we had a slight tailwind as we made a gradual climb out of the valley. After cresting the summit under an increasingly hot sun (Jere complained of sweat rivulets running out of his helmet) we had another long decent. At the bottom we made a right hand turn, off of Rt. 50, right into a stiff headwind. From there the day went downhill. If Rt. 50 is the Loneliest Road in America, then Rt. 487 / 21 is the Loneliest Road in North America (we often rode three abreast on the climbs). After a brief late morning snack in Baker, Ne., only 5 miles from Rt. 50 and 35 miles into the day, the next town and civilization was our evening destination, Millford, UT, 77 miles of nothing in between. We crossed into Utah (and Mountain Time Zone) a day earlier than we had planned. Utah did not welcome us. The roads were rough which gave Jere back issues. I developed a slow leak in my front tire, but thought I could make it to the support van, somewhere ahead of us and out of sight, when Jere's front tire suddenly went flat. Why change one flat, when you can change two? Prior to the flat tires, rain clouds were all around us and lighting ahead (where we thought the support van was waiting), but we had no fear because we had Jere's fender mojo. It turned out that Jere has no mojo and we have no luck. Utah's average rainfall this time of year is less than an inch. Statistically, that should mean clear skis. Oh' no, we got rained on, not once, but several times. Just when we thought we were out of the clear, the winds would swirl and hit us from every quarter and another cloud would appear and it would again rain in the desert. Go figure. Of course, it spritzed while we were changing the flat tires. If the rain was not bad enough, we rode through a dust storm. Now answer Jere's question; "How can you have rain and a dust storm simultaneously?" Before our last climb and decent into Millford, we joked that we got hit with everything, but sleet and snow. The Mormon god must of heard us, because 5 miles outside of Millford, we got nailed ... rain, swirling, gusting winds, and hail! Because we were so close to a warm shower, we just endured and laughed about it. We all agreed had that happened anywhere else, we would have just curled up in a ball until the support team realized our plight and rescued us. The one bright spot of the day, we finally saw a non bovine mammal; we saw a few antelope (boy can they move out). Speaking of bovine, we rode for hours and only saw a few (see today's slide show), but the landscape (and road) were covered with cow-patties. Does anybody know what the half-life of a cow-patty is, it has to be a long time?
We ended the day with 110 miles, wet and cold, but still motivated because we have two states down. We hope the Mormon god gives us a free pass the rest of the way thorught the state.

Thanks for the postings and words of encouragement. We are inspired and motivated by all of you that are following along with us.

Day 7 (5/29/09)

Today marked one week on the road. Today was also a first for all three of us, as it surpassed the most miles any of us have ever ridden in a week. We totaled 652 miles for the week, on target for Jere and Sam to get back to work. Today, started from our hotel's doorstep in Eureka with a climb out of town. The morning was pleasant with no headwind for a change. We stopped in Eli, Nv. for lunch, 77 miles from the start. In Eli we had the first cell phone coverage in two days. We all frantically made calls, because what ATT giveth, it also taketh. We decided we would spend the night in Eli, because it had more hotel options, but we needed to keep on track with our mileage. So, once again we took advantage of our support vehicle. After lunch, we continued riding east another 35.5 miles, for a total of 112.5 miles, the furthest I had ever ridden in one day. Unfortunately, the wind picked up and was again in our face. Thunderstorms also were popping up all around us, but by the hair on Tim's chinny-chin-chin we avoided getting wet. Seven days without precipitation! The mojo of Jere's fenders is working. (Jere outfitted his bike with fenders and opted to carry the weight, figuring as sure as he drug that weight all across the US, he would never need them.) We chose our ending point at the bottom of a decent for two reasons. 1. Its easy miles after a long day, and 2. A long, fast decent in the morning is cold. The final summit of the day was the highest point (7,722') we crossed since crossing Carson's Pass in Calif. We reached the summit at our 100 mile point with an average speed of 17.2 mph. During the 12 1/2 mile decent our average speed for the day increased to 18.0 mph! Since I outweigh Tim and Jere by at least 40 lbs, the "mass of my ass" carries me downhill faster; therefore, my job is to punch a hole through the wind while the feather weights rest. Turn around is fair play, because they have to drag "Chunky" along on the uphills. Speaking of weight, we are either doing something right or something wrong, because none of us has lost any weight. Tim has been burning, on average, 5,900 calories per day on the bike, while Sam 's average is 7,230.
We expect to reach the Utah border on Sunday. The support team has heard their liquid nourishment may be tough to obtain in Utah, especially on Sundays, so they will stock pile their special Support Team Drink before crossing the boarder. The support team is now firing on all cylinders; water bottles are automatically filled, laundry done, positioned along the road just at the right spot and right time, etc. They even made the successful water cache for the poor laden down soles riding unsupported, who we shared dinner with the day before. In case you are interested here is their blog; http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/?o=3Tzut&doc_id=4222&v=Pc
In sum, I believe I can speak for all of us that the trip has exceeded our expectations and we are still motivated. (Jere does get homesick and needs ATT to do a better job of allowing him to keep in touch with home).

Day 6 (5/28/09)

We got on the road today with our earliest start, about 7:30. The ride started with a climb out of town, with a quick decent before another climb and decent. The temperature was just cool enough that we had to put on a jacket for the descents. Day6's ride and terrain was identical to Day 5, same headwind and scenery. I was reminded of the Henry VIII song, "... second verse same as the first ...".
Today was a short day, only 69 miles (even with the car option, since towns are far and few between, we still have to plan our next stop so the distance is not too short or too long). According to Tim, we are on course and on time. We ended in Eureka, Nv. Just outside of town was a huge gold mining operation. Apparently, the operation was idle for awhile, but now that the price of gold is up, the operation has became lucrative again.
Adventure Cycling's magazine has a section for people to advertise trips they are taking and soliciting riders to join them. I had noticed one gentleman, seeking companion riders, that intended to ride the same route we were traveling and leaving about when we were. Before I started the trip, I had e-mailed him and told him we had our own group, but wanted to introduce myself in case we saw each other along the route. Roger (from Australia) e-mailed back and said he found two companions, one from the UK and the other from San Francisco. Coincidentally, we met the group in our hotel in Eureka. They had left San Francisco on May 17th and are traveling unsupported and generally camping. Jere offered to perform a maintenance go over on their bikes and later we all joined them for dinner. We also offered our support team to cache their water at their intended camp site, 40 miles down the road, to save them some weight. We intend to ride a hundred. We are a lean, mean riding team.
Still no cell phone coverage, but obviously wireless Internet. Still great weather, but for the headwind. Day 7's forecast calls for scattered thunderstorms, maybe our luck will start to run out.

Day 5 (5/27/09)

This entry is actually being written at the end of Day 6, 5/28/09. Day 5's finish ended in Austin, Nv. In Austin, there was no cell phone coverage or wireless Internet access. The day started with the support van driving us 16 miles east of Fallon, to the point we ended the evening before. The route, Route 50, named by Life Magazine the "Loneliest Road in America" intersected the Fallon Naval Air Station's target range. In the distance you could see jets making bombing passes, but we didn't see any fireworks. Of all places, Tim had a mechanical issue right in the middle of the range. The day' ride traversed wide valleys with the road extending as far as you could see straight ahead. Unfortunately, the wind was blowing in our faces (not at our backs as the trip brochure advertised) the entire day. As a result we continued to draft off each other, constantly rotating to the front to pull, and to the back to rest. To get an idea of the scenery, (in addition to viewing the slide show link), if you view the Motion Base GPS link, click the option to view either in Google Earth or Larger Google Map. From there you can view Route 50 anywhere along our route in street view. You can almost feel the wind in your face and smell the sage.

We stopped at alittle watering hole 50 miles east of Fallon for a snack. The place called Middlegate had a population of 15. There we met a young German couple from Berlin traveling the west with their two small children in a rented RV. Just up the road from Middlegate we spotted one of only three trees east of Fallon (according to our map) covered in shoes?? (Google "Shoe Tree"). In Austin, one of the shop keepers told us they met a Chinese couple that drove from San Francisco just to see the tree, they missed it and drove all the way to Austin (40 miles past the tree) to get directions back to the tree.

The day's route paralleled and crossed the Pony Express route. The Pony Express had stations located approximately 15 miles apart, so we took a page from their manual and had our support team meet us about every 15 miles to resupply us. When riding out in the middle of no where, and nothing seems to get any closer, having a pit stop at regular intervals was as much a psychological relief as was the nourishment.

According to the barkeep in Austin, at its peak the town had a population of 10,000 in the late 1800s during the silver and gold rush, its current population is around 200. From all appearances, it will be a ghost town in a few more years.

We passed a solo rider going in the opposite direction. His bike was loaded with gear and he was pulling a loaded trailer. He looked like he had been on the road for a long time; baked by the sun, but at least the wind was at his back. At our hotel there was a Dutch couple (we didn't get to meet them) that had left Florida in January and riding all over America. We also briefly met a man at our hotel (as we were getting to leave on Day 6) who was heading east, but not crossing the entire country. If we said it once, we said it a hundred times already, having a support vehicle is the only way to do this trip, all you have to do is ride. No worries about carrying food or water, where to camp, setting up and tearing down camp, etc.
Route 50 east of Fallon is 2 wide lanes, much of it with rubble stirps on the shoulders and middle, to wake sleeping drivers. The speed limit is 70, but I doubt anybody actually drove the limit. Everybody gave us a wide berth, no idiots. Other than the headwind, still no rain, tempurtures in the upper 80s. Everybody is healthy, with no real issues.