I woke up early the next morning, and breezed down the hill to Carbondale. There was a fog that morning, but it was a hot, steamy fog. The local paper said that the heat index would be between 105 and 115 that day. I reached Carbondale at 8 am.

Carbondale was one of the famous spots on the trail because it was the home of the famous Bike Surgeon. I had heard about the place since Oregon. It turned out to be a tiny place, not larger than a bedroom. Most of the mechanics did their work on the sidewalk, or in the back lot, because there was no space. I heard that they serviced over 60 bikes a day, a number which exceeded even the largest bike shop at home.

One of the mechanics inspected my bike, tightened my bottom bracket, and offered me all kinds of souvenirs, like sponges and fly swatters. He wouldn’t take a dime. It was not their normal practice to charge TransAmerica riders.

At the Bike Surgeon, I met Steve and Diedre, a couple that was riding TransAmerica also. Steve was pretty buff, and Diedre was right out of the pages of Playboy. I tried not to look too hard.

my journal recorded “dierdra,” which i probably edited to diedre in the original writeup. it was likely “dierdre,” as i wrote phonetically in my journal.

There was a problem with Diedre’s bike, which no one could seem to fix. She had cables internal to the frame, and for some reason, they couldn’t get a new cable threaded through, although they could get a pilot cable through in the other direction. They tried soldering the new cable to the pilot, and tape, but neither was strong enough. In a flash of inspiration, I rode off to the local Radio Shack and bought a thin piece of heat shrink tubing. We used it to join the pilot and new cable, and it worked! Steve and Diedre didn’t witness this, as they had gone off to lunch, but I rode off quite satisfied. Not only had I conquered the technical problem, but I had helped another cyclist.

I saw no other cyclists on the road that afternoon. It was stiflingly hot. I kept wanting to go to sleep. By about 3 PM, I had only ridden 20 or so miles out of Carbondale. I saw a sign that said “Scenic View,” so I turned off. It was a good thing I did.

The “view” turned out to be a small pond, but more importantly, there was a drinking fountain there. I doused myself completely with the hot water from the fountain, drank some, and also had a can of fruit cocktail. For the next two hours or so, I repeated dousing myself every 10 minutes. There was shade there, but not much. A slight breeze wafted through the place every once in a while. Even so, I hung at the brink of discomfort the entire time.

My journal doesn’t record where I stayed that night. There were no motels on the route anywhere near, so I likely camped at some campground. I do recall getting back on the road after resting at the pond for 2 hours. Couldn’t have gotten far, because the heat severely limited my speed, and it would have been at least 5 pm by the time I got back on the road.