Day 36: A Great Day (And Night) To Ride

This morning, I saw my loving wife off as she embarked the shuttle heading to Denver International Airport.  I then jumped back on the rig after an 8-day break.  Out of an abundance of caution, I decided to take about a 15-mile training ride before attacking the largest summit of the TransAmerica Trail.  I enjoyed a picturesque ride down to Frisco, CO, and back to Breckenridge.  

After reacquiring my “biking legs,” I started to climb Hoosier Pass.  As I climbed the pass, I noticed a very large mushroom-like plume of smoke in the far distance behind me.  This was the apparent earlier phase of what became a very large wildfire on Peak 2 near Breckenridge. I was fortunate to have gotten ahead of it as I understand that travelers into and out of the area were seriously impacted by the blaze and resulting smoke.

Here’s a picture of me at the highest point on the TransAmerica Trail (photo courtesy of a Westbound TransAm’r I met at the pass):

At some point during the journey, my occasional biking colleague and new friend, Jayden from Pennsylvania, sent me a text indicating which town I could catch up to him. I had already bicycled about 50 miles and the town was another 50 miles away. I was feeling good but knew that catching up with Jayden might be a stretch.  

After exploring camping opportunities between my location and Jayden’s (they were essentially nonexistent), I decided that biking another 50 miles was my best option. The vehicular traffic on the road was minimal.  And it was a moonlight night.  I energized my lights.  

I use a brightly flashing rear red light and very bright front white LED light which I mounted on my GoPro gooseneck so it was raised above my handlebar bag.  In addition, my panniers (biking bags) have impressively reflective patches (three in the front and two in the back).  I had confidence that the few motor vehicles on the road could clearly see me: oncoming vehicles dimmed their high beams at least a quarter of a mile in front of me; and I heard the rumble of the tires of vehicles passing me as they hit the center lane rumble strips well before the vehicle actually passed me.  My more immediate concern was to ensure that I could see any deer on the road (and they could see me).

I arrived safely at the Echo Canyon campground near Canyon City, CO, after completing 106 miles and about 12 hours on the bike. I had climbed two summits that day. And biking after hours gave the the opportunity to observe countless deer crossing the road.

While my first day back on the road was unusually strenuous, it validated the wisdom of taking a break.  I emerged stronger and more capable.

Today serves as a strong base for the rest of my journey. I know that I have a significant reserve that I can tap into when necessary.  I still don’t like biking at night but know that I have the right gear to do it safely when necessary.

Day 37: The Heat is On!

Although I didn’t arrive at the campground until after 10 pm the previous night, I awoke early and set out on the road to Pueblo, CO.  It was forecast to be very hot, over 100 degrees. The first 10 miles of the journey were strong and comfortable for me.

By the time I arrived adjacent the federal correctional facility in Florence, CO, my bike computer showed an on-the-road temperature of 106 degrees.  Biking felt nothing short of oppressive over the next stretch of 11 miles; there were no services and no shade. And there was a pretty stiff headwind, but not the cooling kind.

At times during this portion of the ride, I felt like I was riding on two flat tires.  I looked down at the pavement and the tires were fine!  I was consuming water very rapidly.  The water became increasingly hot and less satisfying to a parched cyclist.  Although I had plenty of water, I made it a priority to find a cool place with cool water as soon as possible.

When I completed the 11-mile stretch, which felt like it took forever, I pulled into the town of Wetmore (gotta love the name’s play on water).  I was dismayed when I found that the town’s only restaurant was permanently closed; there were no stores.

After getting to the end of the small town, I doubled back along the main road to conduct a deeper probe. There was no sign of human activity.  Then I noticed a sign for a library so decided to give it a try, thinking that a library must at least have air conditioning.  At the bottom of a dirt road, I discovered a brand new community center with the library as part of it. It was indeed open. And it had fabulous air conditioning and the coldest water fountains imaginable.

I spent two hours there consuming all the cool water I could and waiting out the heat.  The caretaker told me that the town intends to encourage bicyclists to camp out at the park across from the library.  I made a mental note to notify the Adventure Cycling Association about this newly discovered water stop and camping opportunity.

As I rested at the library, the heat of the day fueled cloud cover in the form of storm clouds.  When my bike computer showed a temperature drop of 25 degrees (relative to 106 degrees),  I filled up my water bottles with cold water and, much to my surprise, attacked the remaining 25 miles to Pueblo in superb form.

This incident illustrates the restorative power of a good water break. And the need to avoid the heat of the day whenever possible.  I would incorporate both these lessons into my routine.

As I entered Pueblo, I caught up with Jayden (who didn’t have the benefit of a two-hour break). He was completely exhausted so we decided to rent rooms in the Bramble Tree Hotel. Unfortunately, the hotel only had second floor rooms available and no elevator. It was quite a chore to carry our bikes and gear up a stairwell.

We enjoyed a delicious meal at a local Japanese Restaurant, MoMo’s. I enjoyed some warm sake with the meal.

Day 38: Setting an Alarm to Beat the Heat

During last night’s dinner, Jayden and I decided that we needed to do the unthinkable–to set an alarm and get on the road with the rising sun.  After the previous day’s experience, I was all in. Our goal today was to ride 50 miles to Ordway, CO.

With an early start and cooler temperatures, I completed the ride in record time.  After Pueblo, CO, there weren’t any significant climbs as I headed towards Kansas.

Today was the first day where I completed the entire day’s ride within three shifts on my middle chain ring.  I was able to power up the upslopes without much additional effort.  I found myself enjoying lunch in Ordway by noon. I enjoyed the lunch so much that I went back to the same establishment, Bits and Spurs Cafe, for dinner (ok, it also happened to be the only one of two open restaurants in town).

The City of Ordway is very bike friendly.  At City Hall, we were given free camping permits for the Spray Park. This park is well known for the spray feature in the water park area where kids can run through a giant sprinkler/fountain in the center of the park.  The city even gave us nice water bottles and microfiber towels.

After we had set up our tents, we were joined by an East to West TranAm’r, a very tall gentleman named Roberts from the Netherlands. Jayden and I were amused when Roberts, in quintessential European fashion, decided to frolic in the spray jets in his biking shorts.  My sense was that the local kids and attending moms were less amused.

As evening approached, a local gentleman named Pablo stopped by to tell me that the sprinkler system for the park lawns would come on at 7 pm and go through its routine until 7 am.  I asked him if it was possible to shut the system down for bicycle campers and he said no.  His orders were to green up the parks.  But he was kind enough to describe the time and zone sequencing of the system.

Ever the engineer, I waited for the first zone to come on at 7 pm and discovered that there was a relatively large “dead zone” where one of the sprinkler heads didn’t operate.  After waking Roberts up, we all relocated our tents to that zone and enjoyed a relatively sprinkle-free night, save a few evening thunder showers energized by the heat.

Day 39: Enjoying the Relative Flatness of Eastern Colorado

Following a get-up-using-an-alarm routine (which I disliked intensely since I had become accustomed to being woke up by the light of the day and chirping birds), I awoke early and was on the road by 7 am.  I stopped by a truck stop for a cup of coffee and quickly sped through the 61 miles to Eads.

Even though Eastern Colorado is relatively flat, I encountered gradual up and downslopes, some more significant than others.

I found that I enjoyed the relative flatness much more than mountain climbing.  But I needed a new challenge.  So, today, I endeavored to complete the ride using only two gears, essentially requiring me to power through the upslopes and work harder.  I enjoyed this “game” and comfortably stayed within the aerobic zone of my heart rate monitor.  My heart rate was running appreciably lower than what I encountered in the mountains.

I made it to Eads in record time and was having lunch at JJ’s Restaurant by 11:30 am.  After checking out the city park, which is located on the main highway and has little shade, I decided to rent a room at the Traveler’s Lodge.

I enjoyed dinner at JJ’s as well, this time in the company of Jayden and three new East-bound TransAmr’s, Gloria, Eric, and Michael.

Eads, CO, marks the halfway point for the TransAmerica Trail.  I commemorated this achievement in the following picture (courtesy of Jayden):

Day 40: Almost Effortless on the Flats as I Enter Kansas

I missed my alarm today but was still was on the road by 7 am.  Today’s goal is to proceed to the town of Tribune, KS.  The temperature was 65 degrees when I started.  I watched the temperature rise ten degrees per hour as I progressed along the 56 mile route.

Today, I observed two live snakes attempting the cross the road.  The first, presumably non-poisonous, was about 4 feet long, and it hardly acknowledged me as I sped past.  The second, presumably poisonous, was about 3 feet long. It alerted at my presence and assumed a very aggressive posture as I zoomed by.  I decided that it was best for me not to stop to try to take a picture.

I also experienced my first assault from biting flies, especially at the Kansas welcome sign.  I was warned about this threat by West bound TransAmr’s. Somehow, these flies have figured out how to bit you even as you are riding the bike.  And, with the welts that are left by their bites, I’m still trying to figure out if I hate them more than mosquitos.

Here’s me entering Kansas (selfie taking quickly to avoid those pesky biting flies!):

At the Kansas welcome sign, an older gentleman in a pick up truck stopped by just to say hello. He said that he was born and raised in the area, and works in the oil and gas distribution field. He asked me how I was doing and even offered some water. He said that he enjoyed engaging cycling tourists at both the Colorado and Kansas welcome signs.

Today’s ride was in my best ever category.  My legs were strong.  My stamina was consistent.  And, continuing the “game” from the previous day, I only used a single gear to complete the route.

I had been warned about the large agricultural equipment encountered by other TranAm’rs in Kansas.  Today was my first experience.  I was pedaling along nicely when I noticed two large pieces of equipment taking up both lanes, including the medians.  I stopped in time to take this photo, and rode over into the grass to let these behemoth combine harvesters pass.  I waved at the operators as an expression of my appreciation for what agriculture does for America and the world:

Many Westbound TransAm’rs said that Kansas was their least favorite state.  As for me, I was fascinated by the long, straight and relatively flat stretches of road (I called it rolling flatness). It was often difficult to discern the difference between the end of the road and the sky because of the heat waves beating off the pavement. 

I studied the intermodal intersections between highway and rail.  I was mesmerized by the hugeness and diversity of the various pieces of agricultural equipment I encountered. Driving by the John Deere harvester dealership was a particular treat.  

In each small town, I was greeted by a large silo or silo complex. Even on a Sunday, the progress of American agriculture was evident.

While it was an easy biking day for me, I remained ever vigilant for sources of cool water.  I stopped at a convenience store in one particular town and found it closed on Sunday.  I snapped this picture as I thought to myself, “that’s not very convenient for me.”  A young trucker had stopped at the gas pump at the same location and we shared a moment of exasperation as I told him that the store was closed.

As I completed my last several miles into Tribune, I fixated a bit on the water tanks on the horizon.  What I would have given for a cool drink of water! Ironically, I ended up camping within a stone’s throw of the town’s main water tank. I snapped this photo to capture the inspiration that the water tank gave to me on my journey.

When I arrived in Tribune, I went to the gas station and found out that it was the only store and restaurant open on Sunday.  I enjoyed a large, very cold cold Gatorade.  I was guided by the store clerk to where I needed to check in to camp at the city park.  

When I went outside to my bike, I found that I was losing air pressure in my rear tire.  During a recent bike inspection, I discovered a small cut in my rear tire, presumably caused by road debris.  It wasn’t large enough to change the tire but I was monitoring it closely.  The tire was slowly losing pressure but I had just enough to get to the park.

I proceeded to the Sheriff’s Office and on to the park, which is fabulous (it had cool (and especially delicious) water, power, a gazebo for shade, adjacent restroom and shower facilities at the county pool, etc.).

My first order of business was to fix the slow leak in the bicycle tire.  The cut in the tire was not the source; it was a thin strand of wire that had penetrated the tread of the tire and punctured the inner tube.  I patched the tube and installed a patch of thick rubber (called a boot) along the portion of the tire with the cut in it. This was my first true flat in over 3,500 miles of operation of my touring bicycle.

The park in Tribune is adjacent the Veteran’s Memorial. I beamed with pride when I observed the U.S. Coast Guard prominently displayed in the roster of military services.  

There was one Coast Guard veteran commemorated in the inscribed bricks on the memorial walkway.  

As I was setting up camp, a woman in a golf cart named Sonja pulled up.  She told me that if there was a threat of rain, we would be notified by the Sheriff’s Office and relocated to the fire house.  My goodness, does it get any better than this? It’s a true honor and privilege to be treated with such courtesy by people as good as the folks I’ve met along this trek!  And in a town with a really cool name like Tribune!

Tonite’s sky contained a full moon (note my tent and bike under the gazebo):