Hi Roderick, I found Stewart's trip report that you sent me. -gg ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Date: Wed, 24 Mar 93 12:31:25 pst To: ggan@hpesf.sv.itc.hp.com ... ....................................................................... Here is a copy of Stewart's trip report. Stewart also rode across America this summer, but at about twice my mileage per day. ....................................................................... WHAT I DID FOR MY SUMMER VACATION --------------------------------- 1. Days 1 to 4 - Riding with Bob and Bill (Florence, Oregon to Brownlee Dam, Idaho) Just like every other trip, this one got off to a late start. We had planned to leave at noon. We left at 4:00, just in time to hit rush hour traffic. The goal was Florence, Oregon by midnight. We pulled in at 6 a.m. Half asleep, we said goodbye to Paul I. and started riding. We were exhausted from driving through the night. Stopping for breaks, we wouldn't stand or sit. We'd lie down. I was afraid that all 3 of us would fall asleep, and someone would steal the bikes. The first 4 days were fun. Riding conditions were great. We usually had a gentle wind at our backs. There were a few hills to climb, but they weren't too steep going up or down. The people were friendly in Oregon, particularly in Eugene. We were at a bike shop and one person invited us to spend the evening at his home. Whenever we asked for directions, people would help us out. Sometimes we would just stop and look at the map, and people would come over and ask if we needed directions. There were a lot of people riding the same route across the country. In these 4 days, we met about a dozen people who planned to ride cross country. Most of these people were students or teachers. It makes sense. Who else gets 3 months of vacation each year ? At the end of the 4 days, we had gone about 420 miles and were at a motel in Baker, Oregon. I had my first shower in 5 days. It felt great. 2. Days 5 and 6 - Bob's knee explodes (Brownlee Dam, Idaho) At Baker, Bill took a bus back to San Jose. He had to get back to work. Bob and I rode on. Bob's knee was getting pretty sore. We decided to take a day of rest at a campground on the Snake River to see if the knee would get better. The knee didn't get better. A doctor was vacationing at the campground. He saw Bob limping around, so he came over and took a look at the knee. He told Bob that he shouldn't be riding. While we were hanging out at the campground, we met 4 other bicyclists. Cindy was a teacher from Montana, riding by herself. Norm and Linda were newlyweds from Oregon, riding to Banff. One of their bikes had a sign on the back that said "Just Married". Steph was from Virginia, and was riding by herself also. The next morning, we headed back to Baker. Bob was going to take a bus from Baker to San Jose. Bob ended up getting a ride back to Baker. My friend Rod (HP, POD division) was also riding cross country. His fiance, Mary Ann, was riding with him as far as Baker. She was getting on a bus at Baker. They got to Baker and had a day to kill, so they rented a car and went for a drive. They saw Bob and I on the road, and gave Bob a ride back to Baker. 3. Days 7 to 13 - Sightseeing with Steph (Cambridge, Idaho to Lewis and Clark Highway, Idaho) After Bob got in the car with Rob and Mary Ann, I took off on my own. I didn't know what I wanted to do. I didn't want to ride cross country by myself, but I didn't want to go home so soon. I decided to start riding and see what happened. I was riding through the first town beyond the campground and heard, "Hey, what are you doing here ?". It was Steph. Steph had begun the trip riding with two other people. She was on her own at this moment. We decided to ride together for a while. The 7 days with Steph were different from my usual rides. It was quality touring, instead of quantity touring. We rode only 250 miles in those 7 days, but I got a better "feel" for those 250 miles than I did for any other area I rode through. We spent the 4th of July weekend in Council, Idaho. They had their 4th of July events on July 2nd. I had an all you can eat pancake breakfast, and an all you can eat barbecue dinner. They also had their annual porcupine race. People guide the porcupines down the race course with garbage can lids and brooms. The race is pretty fun, if you're not a porcupine. The newlyweds, Norm and Linda, were also at Council. They were staying at a Bed and Breakfast owned by Tom and Mary Ann. Tom and Mary Ann were fixing up a house that they were getting ready to rent. I spent an afternoon helping Tom and Norm work on the house. Payment for the work was lunch that day, and breakfast the next day. The breakfast was great. It was the best meal I had during the trip. There are certain advantages when riding with a cute girl. If you need a place to stay or a ride in a truck, no problem. Steph's cute and friendly. One morning, it was raining hard, and we had to ride over a big hill. Neither of us wanted to ride in the heavy rain, so we went to a grocery store to hitch a ride over the hill. It took Steph about a minute to get us a ride. We tied our bikes down in the back of the truck, and jumped into the cab. Inside the truck, we found a big 41 magnum on the seat. The bikes were tied down. I considered getting out, and just forgetting about the bikes. We stayed in the truck, though, and everything was ok. The driver, Mike, was one of the nicest people I met on the trip. Before we parted, I asked him why he carried the gun. There were two reasons. One was that he sometimes carried a lot a cash and he didn't want to get robbed. The other was that he shot a man last year, and word was out that the man was looking for him. I hoped that the man wouldn't find him while we were in the truck. 4. Days 14 to 21 - If I'm going to get to the East Coast, I'd better get going. (Missoula, Montana to Kremmling, Colorado) Riding with Steph was fun, but I was beginning to want to try to make it to the east coast. Everyday, I'd calculate the miles per day I would need to ride to make it to the east coast before my vacation time ran out. By the end of the second week, I needed to average about 120 miles per day to make it across. I decided that if I was going to make it across, I had to get going. I wasn't too concerned about leaving Steph. We were meeting other bicyclists going cross country. There were a number of people that she could ride with. In the next 7 days, I rode about 140 miles a day. When you ride on your own, you can go a lot faster. I wasn't pedaling any faster. The difference is that I no longer had to discuss when to leave, how far to go, where to eat lunch, when to eat lunch, etc. Only one person has to order food, go to the bathroom, take a shower, shop for food, take a picture, etc. At first, it was sort of fun to ride on my own. I was going pretty fast, and I could do whatever I wanted. After about 3 days, though, it wasn't so fun. Everyday, I was getting up at sunrise, and trying to get to a town that was 120 to 170 miles away. It was somewhat important to make it, because if I didn't make it to the town, I was in the middle of nowhere. There would be no food, no water, and definitely no fun. There were some memorable people and moments during this week. I meet a couple of girls in Yellowstone who had been on some pretty adventurous trips. Last summer, they went mountain biking through Alaska. Their adventures riding, rafting, and hitchhiking were pretty incredible. Alaska is pretty rugged land, especially when you get away from the cities. The people are pretty tough. Most people have guns, and not everyone is friendly. One of the girls said that once she was so scared and tired, she just broke down and started crying. I didn't think too much about this at the time. I thought about it a lot later on in the trip. I had a tire blow out at dusk in Montana. At dusk in Montana, the mosquitos hunt for dinner. I changed my tube and tire with one hand. The other hand was killing the swarm of mosquitos that surrounded me. The next day, I was one big mosquito bite. 4. Days 22 to 28 - This trip is getting to be a job. (Kremmling, Colorado to Summersville, Missouri) I went over 1000 miles during this week. The riding was starting to get to be a lot of work. The wind was always blowing in Montana. Fortunately, it wasn't always blowing against me. I made it over the Rockies. The grade wasn't too bad, and the wind wasn't too bad. Together, though, they were a pain. Often, I would be going up a long gradual grade, against the wind. Sometimes, the grade didn't really look steep at all, and the wind wasn't too bad, but I just couldn't get past seven or 8 miles an hour. It felt funny. I thought I was sick because I was working hard, but I was going so slow. Finally, I turned the bike around and went the other way just to see how big a factor the hill and wind was. The bike started coasting at 18 miles an hour. I quickly came to hate the road signs that said "ROAD WORK NEXT MILES". This meant I had to ride through rocks, dirt, loose gravel, or gravel smeared with tar. This meant that every car and truck that went past would blast me with rock and gravel. Thank God I wore goggles. Once I had to go uphill, against the wind, in gravel. It was so bad, I had to laugh. After I crossed the Rockies, I stopped at a bike shop in Pueblo, Colorado. I needed a new chain, front derailuer, and freewheel cogs. My bike was falling apart. In Eastern Colorado, I was caught in my first thunderstorm. There were big storm clouds over the Rockies, and I was glad I had crossed the Rockies the day before. The wind was in my face, but it wasn't strong. An hour later, it had shifted and it was blowing me down the road. Riding was fun again. Suddenly, the wind shifted again. It was blowing real hard from the north. I was going east. I leaned hard to the left to keep my bike upright. If the wind stopped, I'd fall down. The clouds that had been over the Rockies and to the north were suddenly over my head. Clouds move faster in Colorado than they do in California. There was a lot of lightning and thunder. There was a lightning flash every minute. It was so frequent, I considered trying to take a picture of a lightning bolt. I also considered how stupid it was to be in in the middle of a lightning storm. The storm passed over me. As I rode, I watched the lightning blast the horizon in front of me. I couldn't believe the number of lightning bolts. I thought the town I was riding towards would be burnt up when I got there. A lot of people told me that Kansas would be easy, because it's so flat. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I rode against the wind for 250 miles. Hills, are easier than wind, because hills have downhills. There isn't always a down- wind. There wasn't in Kansas. For 250 miles, I rode in a tuck, to reduce wind resistance. I was always in the same riding position, and my butt was sore like it's never been before. To cushion the seat, I was stuffing socks down the back of my shorts. I was lucky I missed the heatwave in Kansas. It was only in the low 90's. With the humidity factor, It was only about 100. I made it across Kansas on about 5 gallons of water and soft drinks a day. The wind stopped blowing in Missouri. I think the wind was blocked by the rolling hills. Missouri was a roller coaster ride. I don't think I ever went higher than 1500 feet, but I was going up and down all day. It was pretty steep. I made it over the Cascades and the Rockies without using my granny gear. My knees would never have made it through Missouri without my low gears. East of the Rockies, paved shoulders are rare. In Kansas, this wasn't a problem, because traffic is light, and the roads are flat. Drivers can pass bicyclists safely, because they can see oncoming traffic for miles. I crossed into Missouri on a Thursday afternoon. Missouri roads, at least the ones I was on, were bad for bike riding. The roads are narrow and there's no paved shoulder. Visibility is bad because of the hills and tight turns. Riding on Thursday and Friday were fine, though, because there was so little traffic. The people who passed me were usually considerate. 5. Evening of Day 28 and Day 29 - Maybe this trip wasn't such a good idea. (Summersville, Missouri to Farmington, Missouri) Summersville was a turning point. The trip changed from, a lot of work, but I don't mind, to, I hate this and I want to go home, but I've gone this far and I'm going to finish, I hope. It was dusk, about 9:00 in the evening. I had gone 120 miles through the hills and I was tired and hungry. My map indicated that I could camp at the Summersville city park, so I rode into town looking for the park. It was Friday night. A lot of "good old boys" (That what the locals call them. They also call them rednecks.) were driving around town in their trucks. Almost all of them drive big American trucks. If they drive a car, it's usually a Camaro. A Chevy Blazer pulled up to me and the driver asked "What are you doing on the road with that bike ?" At that moment, I didn't think much of the question. During the trip, a lot of people had asked me where I was going or what I was doing. I said that I was looking for a place to camp out and a place to eat. The driver then told me, "I HATE BIKE RIDERS". It was beginning to look bad. I said I was sorry I was riding a bike. He told me "You better get out of town". The sun was down. It was going to be completely dark in 10 minutes. The next town was 15 miles away. I was in the Ozark Mountains. It was dangerous riding in the day. Riding in the dark was not a good idea, but camping in the park, with the guy in the Blazer nearby, was not a good idea either. I asked the driver where he thought I should go. He just repeated that I better get out of town. He didn't look very friendly. Neither did the other two guys in the truck. I decided to get out of town. I started riding out of town. A few people in other trucks where giving me advice, GET OFF THE ROAD, and swearing at me. The guys in the Blazer had a few words for me too. They were probably disappointed that I didn't say something smart, and give them a good excuse for pounding me into the ground. The thing that really bothered me was that as I left town, the Blazer followed me out, and slowly passed me. It's passengers kept looking back at me as they drove down the road. There was only one road out of town. I guessed that they would probably ride a few miles down the road, where it would be dark and isolated, wait for me, and beat my brains in. I thought about going back through town and out the other way, but I was afraid that the Blazer people would drive back, see me going back through town, and have good reason (in their minds) to shoot me. The land along the road had a lot of trees. I considered hiding in the woods. I decided against it because there were too many barking dogs, and I didn't want to have a land owner chasing me too. I decide to look for a house to hide behind. I found a nice house, with nice cars, and a couple watching tv in the living room. I knocked on the front door. The first thing I heard was the husband yelling "DON'T OPEN THE DOOR" to his wife. I thought that this must be a great neighborhood to live in. They came to the door. I explained to them, from behind the closed door, the situation I was in. I asked them if I could stay behind their house, and out of sight from the road. It took the wife about 1 second to reply, "I'm sorry, but we just can't accept the liability". The first thing that came to my mind was that this lady was well educated. It was a good choice of words, and it didn't take her long to choose them. I was beginning to get depressed. I thought this was the end of the trip. If I survived, I would fly home, as soon as I got out of the hospital. It was an exciting trip through the dark. There was a half moon so I could see somewhat. The pedaling would get real tough, and I knew I was going uphill. I'd start going fast, and I'd know I was going downhill. Every once in a while, a vehicle would come by. I'd get off the road. The car or truck would slow down to see what idiot was on the road. Usually, they'd yell out some obscenity, and be on their way. Everytime I saw headlights approaching and then slowing down to see me, I'd think, this is it. It's the Chevy Blazer. The Chevy Blazer never showed up. I made it to a compground about 15 miles from the town I had escaped. Camping wasn't safe anymore. I've seen Easy Rider. I checked into a small motel by the campground. I'd never been so glad to check into a room before. The room wasn't that great either. I felt I was in hiding. I'd hear trucks pulling into the campground-motel, and I'd think that it was the Chevy Blazer. I went to my room, got out my maps, and calculated how long it would take me to finish the ride. I had about 1300 miles to go. The next day was Saturday. It got to be about 95 degrees that day. I was riding through the Ozark National Waterways Park. Everyone was loading the truck up with beer and driving the boat out to the rivers. This was not a good day to be riding a bike through these roads. The area is a series of short, steep hills. It's up, down and around turns, over and over. People go 70 on the downhills, so that their speed carries them over the uphills. Most people don't like to slow down for a bicycle on the road. It's usually not safe to pass, because you can't see over the hills or around the turns. A lot of people would see me on the road, hit the horn, and stay on the horn until I got off the road. It was hard riding, because I had to keep getting off the road to let cars pass. Bicycles don't belong on these roads on hot summer weekends. A lot of drivers communicated this to me by honking, yelling at me, throwing beer bottles, or spitting at me. All of these things have happened to me in California, but in one day in Missouri, I took as much abuse as I get in 3 years at home. 6. Day 30 to Day 38 - Forget the small towns and get to Washington D.C. (Farmington, Missouri to Washington D.C.) I became more cautious about where I went. I asked people about the areas I was about to ride to. The route I was following lead to small towns in the Kentucky mountains. People warned me that I might have problems there. They told me that I should definitely not leave the main road, for small roads into the hills. I got a haircut in Carbondale, Illinois. The barber was telling me about his experiences. His car overheated in a small town on the Ohio river called Cave In Rock. The guy at the service station wouldn't sell him a gallon of antifreeze for less than $25. My barber said he had to go to the back of the truck, get out a big hammer, and negotiate with the service station man. He said that a gun or a big hammer is the only language they understand. A few people suggested to me that I should have a gun. I suggested to myself that I start riding somewhere else. I decided to forget the small, backwoods roads. I looked at the map and picked a route that was further north, closer to big cities, and got me to Washington D.C. as quickly as possible. It took me 8 days to get to Washington D.C. By this time, riding wasn't fun at all. The problem was the roads. They were too narrow and there was no paved shoulder. There was a dirt, rock, or gravel shoulder, in which riding was difficult, or impossible. I spent a lot of time in the shoulder. The weather didn't help either. It was in the 90's with about 90 percent humidity. 6. Day 39 to Day 41 - Washington D.C. I was within 25 miles of Washington when rush hour traffic forced me off the road. I decided to wait at a gas station until traffic thinned out. A guy with a bike rack on his car pulled into the station to get gas. He was a bike racer. He came over and we discussed the pleasures of riding the roads of the Eastern United States. He was taking a hitchhiker to Washington D.C. and offered to get me through the rush hour traffic. A few minutes later, my bike was on his roof rack, and I was getting a ride into the capitol. I spent two days sightseeing in Washington. There's a lot to see, but I was worn out from the bike trip. I fell asleep a couple times on sofas in the Smithsonian museums. I got up at 4:30 in the morning to ride to the airport. Washington's a tough town too. A lot of people were up and about at 5:00 in the morning. There were a lot of street people. The city parks were their campground. I got to the airport, packed my bike up, and got on the plane. I had to put my bike in a plastic bag. The bag cost $10. It was the most expensive plastic bag I've ever bought. My flight left at 8:00 a.m. I was in San Jose at 1:00 p.m. It took me 38 days of riding to get to Washington. It took me 6 hours of flying to get back. I wasn't harassed once during the flight. Planes are wonderful. It was great to be home.