Last night, I got a phone call from Paul. We got a chance to catch up a little bit, and I got to hear about how his trip is going. At the time, he was in Kansas. Despite the ridiculous amount of mosquitoes that seemed to gravitate to him, he was relaxing in a beautiful alcove with a rose garden. He seemed really content. Also, he was recently provided with a website that lists various hotels across the nation as well as their status on bedbugs. He could rest soundly, since there were no reports of bedbugs found at that place he was staying last night.
Paul told me that he had to cook dinner on Wednesday, and he was pretty nervous about it. He said that cooking for fourteen people on a budget and with limited supplies is pretty stressful. The last time he was in charge of dinner, the food tasted really good, but was served about an hour and half later than it should have been. This time, he and another biker decided on making taco salad! To Paul's dismay, the recipe required the use of iceberg lettuce. He finally conceded that iceberg lettuce is indeed crunchier than romaine lettuce, which is his lettuce of choice. Sounds like dinner was a big hit, despite the inferiority of the lettuce used. (I apologize because there is really no way that I could accurately convey just how much Paul hates iceberg lettuce and what a huge deal this was to him!)
Another story Paul told me was about how he lost several items on this trip, including his journal, his knife/fork set, and a few other things. While he was staying in Eminence, MO (Paul also told me how cool he thought the name of this town was), the group was staying at a campsite. He had ridden into town, which involved traveling down a hill that was pretty big and had a lot of gravel, so it made for a very bumpy ride. He packed a few things onto the back of his bike and made sure that they were secured. After stopping at a store in town, eating at a pizza shop, and heading back to the campsite, he realized that he was missing one very important item: his camera.
He searched high and low, retraced his steps, biked several miles back and forth from the store to the pizza shop, asked the employees of the stores, searched the road where he had ridden. He even walked part of the way in order to look more closely -- but his camera was no where to be found. Paul had given up hope, and told himself that it was okay, because cameras were pretty annoying anyway. (I seem to remember hearing his theory about cameras a few years ago...if you spend your effort taking a picture of everything around you, then you miss the actual experience.)
Paul returned to the campsite, outwardly nonchalant (but inwardly crushed, I'm sure). He just happened to overhear some of the other bikers talking about a camera found....and suddenly, he felt optimistic again!! So he joined the conversation, and he learned that a local pastor had been walking along the road, found the camera, saw pictures of biking-related things on it, and decided to stop at the camp and ask if any of the bikers had lost a camera. He left his name and phone number in case anyone claimed it.
Paul proceeded to call the pastor, described his camera with perfect detail. The pastor then said to him, "There's one problem....there's something seriously wrong with the camera." And Paul responded, "Ugh, I cracked the screen, don't remind me..." And the pastor said "DING DING DING" -- or something along those lines that signified "I am convinced that this is indeed your camera." Paul provided the pastor with an address in Pittsburg, KS (no "h" on the end!) and the pastor was kind enough to mail Paul his camera.
Another interesting tidbit of information that Paul wanted me to share was that there is a river in Kansas called the "Arkansas River" -- but it is pronounced Ar-Kansas (as in, Paul's current location, with an R in front of it...not like the home state of former President Bill Clinton).
That's all for now!
-Christina
June 17, 2010
June 14, 2010
Newton, KS and some Crazy Bike Adventures
Erick - I'm just tickled pink that you spent all that time and effort to post on the blog. Keep up the good work, and I'll see to it you get more postcards!
The last few days have been quite exhilarating, but I'm glad they are over. I'd been hearing a rattle coming from my back wheel and my shifting was giving me some problems for a couple of days, so I had the most mechanically minded member (alliteration?) of our group, a Canadian named Ray, take a look. He proceeded to true my back wheel, which basically consists of tightening and loosening the spokes until the wheel is centered on the rim. He noticed that my rim had some cracks developing in it, and told me to get it replaced ASAP. Luckily, we were planning on heading to Pittsburg, KS that evening where we would have a rest day and a bike shop, so all my troubles would soon be over, or so I thought.
In Pittsburg, not only were there about 20 people from the Transam route (14 from my group) interested in bike tweaks, but the bike owner was in charge of a giant race the next day - a race across Kansas. The point it, Roger, the scatter-brained cycling-enthusiast bike mechanic was incredibly overwhelmed, even with 3 to 4 twenty-something friends helping him out in the afternoons. Roger was an attractively bald, well - built, middle aged man with a slight speach impediment, red a blue mesh clothing and a warm smile. The reason I'm calling him a scatter-brain is because he was nearly incapable, and I mean incapable of doing any work in the shop before his cronies arrived because every 5 minutes the phone would ring, or someone would walk in to check out a bike, or his leg would itch and he would leave his post and attend any distracting desire he might have. Our crew took a day off in Pittsburg, so I figured he would be able to fix the bike up really nicely (I also need a new cassette and chain). The day before, I had heard of some poor fellow having to wait all day for Roger to fix his brakes and headset but since he promised he'd stay late and have it all set up first thing in the morning for me when the shop opened at 10, I thought nothing of it and thought: "now here's a guy who works hard and sets realistic goals for himself."
After telling me it would be ready at 10 am on the morning we were supposed to leave, he quickly adjusted his time frame to just after noon when I arrived at 10 and he hadn't started working yet. Will and I ran off to get breakfast, and returned at 12:30 only to find he still hadn't started. After probing him a little, we realized he had no intention of ever fixing up the bike! Our team leader, Jack, who is also quite a skilled mechanic was pretty outraged over the phone to hear that the shop was taking such poor care of us. The rest of the team had left before 8 and Jack clearly wished he would have taken the time before to fix my bike himself. Around 2, some of Roger's minions arrived and work actually started to be accomplished. I was all packed up to leave just before 5 pm, and Will announces: "Well, we're off to Chanute". Roger replies, "Really, that's 65 miles away!" and actually appeared to feel bad for us, as if he had no idea we'd been waiting all day in his shop and were incredibly frustrated at his non-committal working antics. If he'd said it wouldn't be ready until the evening, I would have had no problem and entertained myself for another day, maybe even taken an afternoon nap. Luckily, another Transam guy, Dennis, hung out with Will and I, so it was actually a pretty good wait, all things considering.
Half a mile down the road, we turn around because my chain is skipping terribly, and after a new middle chain ring, we're off the road again, this time it's after 7pm. Will and I decide to see how far we can get, and after a stop at the famous chicken place "Chicken Annies" which was featured on a food network show comparing fried chicken in Kansas, and 3 different offers for a place to stay, we headed on our way. Will classically stated that, although he may not have brought the best sleeping bag, bike, tent or clothes for the trip, he prepared especially well for night riding. The constant banter that occurs on the trip usually has to do with what we brought, or should have brought, or shouldn't have brought, or need to buy/order/attain on the trip before it's over. His car-headlamp surrogate front headlight, coupled with a blinding headlamp which I sported, served to not only allow us to be seen my cars but actually gave us the ability to see the road, scenary, and nearly everything else quite well.
Night riding is especially nice in Kansas; I've heard firsthand it's one of the things a transamerican cyclist "needs to do at some point." The wind in Kansas is especially bad - the prevailing wind, according to all the rumors, is west to east which encourages most cyclists to start on the west coast. However, according to people who have actually done the trip, fellow tourers and my own experience, I'm convinced the rumors are just that, rumors. Surprisingly, the majority of wind has been tailwind so far through Kansas, which is just what every good cyclist craves. Anyhow, Will and I cruised along, seeing very few cars and coming to several conclusions about night riding.
First, night riding is especially exhausting. After waiting around for 8 hours in a bike shop all day, we both were extremely sleepy during the ride. Around 10:30pm, well passed our usual bed time, we lied down in the town of Walnut to rest, seriously thought about pitching tents and continuing in the morning, but somehow mustered strength to keep moving. Usually, you have a good sense of hunger, and exhaustion baseing these upon the sun; as it sets, or moves in the sky, your mind quickly connects that movement with the passing of time. As a side note, I never quite understood how ancient civilizations could worship the sun until this trip. It occured to me, especially after an overcast day and storm, how vital the sun really is: providing warmth and drying clothes; ancient monks used to bake with the heat of the sun on hot days! When it rains, or snows, or is cloudy, none of this is possible, but when the sun is out, God's face shines down and all the world smells of flowers and fresh fruit. The moral of the story is that when you ride at night, you have no sense of time, or how tired you are if you're used to measuring in a certain way. Will had absolutely no concept of how far we were going since he always uses his computer and couldn't see it at night. Since I don't have a computer, I've actually developed an acute sense of time and space, giving me the ability to sense how far we've gone, how many miles until we reach the next turn, and roughly what time it is, even without the sun.
Secondly, night riding is frightening. During the daytime, all sorts of roadkill litters and wreaks up the roadway, disgusting cyclists with a rancid stench imperceptible by car. I'd often wondered when the killing of these critters actually occurs, and after riding at night I no longer wonder. All sorts of rodents, snakes, raccoons, armadillos and anything else that disgusts any normal person scampers, slithers and sprints across the roadways at night. Beyond that, some of you may remember hearing about the scary dogs in Kentucky. In Kansas, several dogs chased the two of us, and dogs at night are ten times scarier. You have no conception of how big, nasty and rabid they might be until they're right on top of you. I remember one lot especially where a squeaky dog barked and seemed to be getting farther away as we passed by a large Midwestern house. Whew, I thought, finally a dog that doesn't want to chase me. Moments later, a much larger dog than could have made the high pitched wheeze raced up behind and scared the dickens out of me, as I yelled "Back!" and Will hollered "Go home!" in our feeble, mean-spirited voices meant to frighten the dogs long enough to allow a safe passing past the edge of their well-guarded domain.
Thirdly, night biking is fun! There are very few cars, no one is around, no wind bothers you, the heat of the day is non-existent, no distractions abound, and the cool night air calmly guides you mile after mile. Clearly you can't see anything, but Will and I had such great conversations while we chatted, and even enjoyed the slowly drudgery as the clock passed one o'clock, just before we pulled into camp. Around 12:15, a car pulled up behind us as we were still several miles outside of our destination on highway 39. I turned my head (I was riding behind Will since he has the super bright light) and noticed a car slowly rolling behind us with some odd lights attached. I waved him past, thinking he was waiting to pass us until we got over a hill so he could see if any cars were coming. He must have cruised behind us for several minutes before I complained to Will about the dumb car that was blinding us from behind. I turned again and noticed it was a Cop - for some reason it didn't occur to me he was attempting to pull us over. I told Will that even his flashers were on. Apparently only one brain was working that late at night because he had us pulled over immediately; apparently Jack, our fearless leader, had the police out looking for us just to make sure we made it in safe. Believe it or not, another police officer pulled us over down the road, which certainly made for a slightly better story: not just one copper but a couple!
Anyways, all this happened a few days ago, and yesterday was a really rough day: 74 miles with an aggravating headwind to battle for part of the day from Rosalla to Cassoday (17 miles of difficult cycling). Ironically, I was heading to Church, and hadn't planned on a gusty 17 miles so every minute I pedeled slowly was a minute I was missing part of church!
Today, Will and I cruised around town, quizzing locals on the best places to eat, which is by far the best way to get any sort of information, asking locals that is. Asking fellow cyclists is hit or miss; locals seem to know their towns really well, and many are extremely proud of their best food, museums, or hot spots as if they can impress the tourists. Let me tell you, I was quite impressed. Of all the "classic" lunch places visited on this trip, today may have been the best: 12 types of homemade soup, a delectable Ruben on homemade bread, and super tasty water (you have no idea how underrated or difficult to find that really is). I've long dreamed of designing clean-water systems in some third world country, all the while neglecting the needs right next door!
Other events today involved killing some brain cells at the movies, watching "A-Team" for $4.50, doing some laundry, playing Carcassonne, and enjoying a super tasty Mexican meal for dinner. As Will said: "best rest day so far", although he didn't realize it was the best because he spent the whole day with me! Yeah, its getting pretty serious.
Well, hopefully your eyes are bleeding, oozing and mushy from reading this tediously long email; I've done my best to give you a vicarious moment in the life of a Transam Biker.
Toodles,
Paul
PS: This wasn't a postcard, I actually typed all of this
PPS: Looking forward to Purcellville
The last few days have been quite exhilarating, but I'm glad they are over. I'd been hearing a rattle coming from my back wheel and my shifting was giving me some problems for a couple of days, so I had the most mechanically minded member (alliteration?) of our group, a Canadian named Ray, take a look. He proceeded to true my back wheel, which basically consists of tightening and loosening the spokes until the wheel is centered on the rim. He noticed that my rim had some cracks developing in it, and told me to get it replaced ASAP. Luckily, we were planning on heading to Pittsburg, KS that evening where we would have a rest day and a bike shop, so all my troubles would soon be over, or so I thought.
In Pittsburg, not only were there about 20 people from the Transam route (14 from my group) interested in bike tweaks, but the bike owner was in charge of a giant race the next day - a race across Kansas. The point it, Roger, the scatter-brained cycling-enthusiast bike mechanic was incredibly overwhelmed, even with 3 to 4 twenty-something friends helping him out in the afternoons. Roger was an attractively bald, well - built, middle aged man with a slight speach impediment, red a blue mesh clothing and a warm smile. The reason I'm calling him a scatter-brain is because he was nearly incapable, and I mean incapable of doing any work in the shop before his cronies arrived because every 5 minutes the phone would ring, or someone would walk in to check out a bike, or his leg would itch and he would leave his post and attend any distracting desire he might have. Our crew took a day off in Pittsburg, so I figured he would be able to fix the bike up really nicely (I also need a new cassette and chain). The day before, I had heard of some poor fellow having to wait all day for Roger to fix his brakes and headset but since he promised he'd stay late and have it all set up first thing in the morning for me when the shop opened at 10, I thought nothing of it and thought: "now here's a guy who works hard and sets realistic goals for himself."
After telling me it would be ready at 10 am on the morning we were supposed to leave, he quickly adjusted his time frame to just after noon when I arrived at 10 and he hadn't started working yet. Will and I ran off to get breakfast, and returned at 12:30 only to find he still hadn't started. After probing him a little, we realized he had no intention of ever fixing up the bike! Our team leader, Jack, who is also quite a skilled mechanic was pretty outraged over the phone to hear that the shop was taking such poor care of us. The rest of the team had left before 8 and Jack clearly wished he would have taken the time before to fix my bike himself. Around 2, some of Roger's minions arrived and work actually started to be accomplished. I was all packed up to leave just before 5 pm, and Will announces: "Well, we're off to Chanute". Roger replies, "Really, that's 65 miles away!" and actually appeared to feel bad for us, as if he had no idea we'd been waiting all day in his shop and were incredibly frustrated at his non-committal working antics. If he'd said it wouldn't be ready until the evening, I would have had no problem and entertained myself for another day, maybe even taken an afternoon nap. Luckily, another Transam guy, Dennis, hung out with Will and I, so it was actually a pretty good wait, all things considering.
Half a mile down the road, we turn around because my chain is skipping terribly, and after a new middle chain ring, we're off the road again, this time it's after 7pm. Will and I decide to see how far we can get, and after a stop at the famous chicken place "Chicken Annies" which was featured on a food network show comparing fried chicken in Kansas, and 3 different offers for a place to stay, we headed on our way. Will classically stated that, although he may not have brought the best sleeping bag, bike, tent or clothes for the trip, he prepared especially well for night riding. The constant banter that occurs on the trip usually has to do with what we brought, or should have brought, or shouldn't have brought, or need to buy/order/attain on the trip before it's over. His car-headlamp surrogate front headlight, coupled with a blinding headlamp which I sported, served to not only allow us to be seen my cars but actually gave us the ability to see the road, scenary, and nearly everything else quite well.
Night riding is especially nice in Kansas; I've heard firsthand it's one of the things a transamerican cyclist "needs to do at some point." The wind in Kansas is especially bad - the prevailing wind, according to all the rumors, is west to east which encourages most cyclists to start on the west coast. However, according to people who have actually done the trip, fellow tourers and my own experience, I'm convinced the rumors are just that, rumors. Surprisingly, the majority of wind has been tailwind so far through Kansas, which is just what every good cyclist craves. Anyhow, Will and I cruised along, seeing very few cars and coming to several conclusions about night riding.
First, night riding is especially exhausting. After waiting around for 8 hours in a bike shop all day, we both were extremely sleepy during the ride. Around 10:30pm, well passed our usual bed time, we lied down in the town of Walnut to rest, seriously thought about pitching tents and continuing in the morning, but somehow mustered strength to keep moving. Usually, you have a good sense of hunger, and exhaustion baseing these upon the sun; as it sets, or moves in the sky, your mind quickly connects that movement with the passing of time. As a side note, I never quite understood how ancient civilizations could worship the sun until this trip. It occured to me, especially after an overcast day and storm, how vital the sun really is: providing warmth and drying clothes; ancient monks used to bake with the heat of the sun on hot days! When it rains, or snows, or is cloudy, none of this is possible, but when the sun is out, God's face shines down and all the world smells of flowers and fresh fruit. The moral of the story is that when you ride at night, you have no sense of time, or how tired you are if you're used to measuring in a certain way. Will had absolutely no concept of how far we were going since he always uses his computer and couldn't see it at night. Since I don't have a computer, I've actually developed an acute sense of time and space, giving me the ability to sense how far we've gone, how many miles until we reach the next turn, and roughly what time it is, even without the sun.
Secondly, night riding is frightening. During the daytime, all sorts of roadkill litters and wreaks up the roadway, disgusting cyclists with a rancid stench imperceptible by car. I'd often wondered when the killing of these critters actually occurs, and after riding at night I no longer wonder. All sorts of rodents, snakes, raccoons, armadillos and anything else that disgusts any normal person scampers, slithers and sprints across the roadways at night. Beyond that, some of you may remember hearing about the scary dogs in Kentucky. In Kansas, several dogs chased the two of us, and dogs at night are ten times scarier. You have no conception of how big, nasty and rabid they might be until they're right on top of you. I remember one lot especially where a squeaky dog barked and seemed to be getting farther away as we passed by a large Midwestern house. Whew, I thought, finally a dog that doesn't want to chase me. Moments later, a much larger dog than could have made the high pitched wheeze raced up behind and scared the dickens out of me, as I yelled "Back!" and Will hollered "Go home!" in our feeble, mean-spirited voices meant to frighten the dogs long enough to allow a safe passing past the edge of their well-guarded domain.
Thirdly, night biking is fun! There are very few cars, no one is around, no wind bothers you, the heat of the day is non-existent, no distractions abound, and the cool night air calmly guides you mile after mile. Clearly you can't see anything, but Will and I had such great conversations while we chatted, and even enjoyed the slowly drudgery as the clock passed one o'clock, just before we pulled into camp. Around 12:15, a car pulled up behind us as we were still several miles outside of our destination on highway 39. I turned my head (I was riding behind Will since he has the super bright light) and noticed a car slowly rolling behind us with some odd lights attached. I waved him past, thinking he was waiting to pass us until we got over a hill so he could see if any cars were coming. He must have cruised behind us for several minutes before I complained to Will about the dumb car that was blinding us from behind. I turned again and noticed it was a Cop - for some reason it didn't occur to me he was attempting to pull us over. I told Will that even his flashers were on. Apparently only one brain was working that late at night because he had us pulled over immediately; apparently Jack, our fearless leader, had the police out looking for us just to make sure we made it in safe. Believe it or not, another police officer pulled us over down the road, which certainly made for a slightly better story: not just one copper but a couple!
Anyways, all this happened a few days ago, and yesterday was a really rough day: 74 miles with an aggravating headwind to battle for part of the day from Rosalla to Cassoday (17 miles of difficult cycling). Ironically, I was heading to Church, and hadn't planned on a gusty 17 miles so every minute I pedeled slowly was a minute I was missing part of church!
Today, Will and I cruised around town, quizzing locals on the best places to eat, which is by far the best way to get any sort of information, asking locals that is. Asking fellow cyclists is hit or miss; locals seem to know their towns really well, and many are extremely proud of their best food, museums, or hot spots as if they can impress the tourists. Let me tell you, I was quite impressed. Of all the "classic" lunch places visited on this trip, today may have been the best: 12 types of homemade soup, a delectable Ruben on homemade bread, and super tasty water (you have no idea how underrated or difficult to find that really is). I've long dreamed of designing clean-water systems in some third world country, all the while neglecting the needs right next door!
Other events today involved killing some brain cells at the movies, watching "A-Team" for $4.50, doing some laundry, playing Carcassonne, and enjoying a super tasty Mexican meal for dinner. As Will said: "best rest day so far", although he didn't realize it was the best because he spent the whole day with me! Yeah, its getting pretty serious.
Well, hopefully your eyes are bleeding, oozing and mushy from reading this tediously long email; I've done my best to give you a vicarious moment in the life of a Transam Biker.
Toodles,
Paul
PS: This wasn't a postcard, I actually typed all of this
PPS: Looking forward to Purcellville
Cooky's Cafe
519 Main St, Golden City, MO
Allan, Annie, Clara
By Now I'm sure you've heard of my important mission: find the best ice cream/milkshakes/pie across the country. Today we stopped at a place with supposedly the world's best pie; while their motto is false, they certainly had great pie and a wonderful selection. Apple Cherry, Hack/blue/straw/goose,choc,pecan,coconut,lemon mirengue, etc. Supposedly this postcard picture won second in the country for some competition.
Cheers,
Paul
So I have to thank Paul first of all for making me learn how to blog. It only took me 3 trys, 2 hours, and a phone call to a chick to figure it out. I just received a postcard from Paul 2 days ago and ironically enough it has hillbillies on the front dressed in some ridiculous clothes. And in his Paul like wisdom decides that I would be the guy biting down on the chicken leg. The postcards starts out greetings from Houston, MO. So our friend has made quite a bit of headway. I hope you enjoy the post and I hope Paul doesn't forget my advice to sneak ahead of everyone at the end so he can be the first to reach the Pacific.
June 13, 2010
BIKE SOLIDARITY FOR PAUL (Michigan cousins starting long ride (official starter is Grandma Mary)
Paul's Michigan cousins riding in SOLIDARITY for Paul's cross country trip...with his Virginia Grandmother (Grandma Mary) as the official starter ..
This was over Memorial day week-end (while Paul was in Kentucky), and the Michigan McBride clan (Aunt Ellen, Katie, Lauren, Uncle Chris -official photographer, while Grandma was the "Official Starter") decided to ride in solidarity for Paul....The Solidarity ride was close to 30 miles for Ellen and Katie....
Early June--Paul's Kentucy Postcard (mailed from Illinois)
Well, this is Paul's note from Kentucky (to Chris, Elln, Mark & co(his Michigan cousins) --actually mailed from Illinois..I think from early June--but took me some time figure how to pos:
Paul wrote:
Greetings from Illinois! We stayed in carbonale on our day off for Memorial Day, exploring the area; almost everything in town was closed. The rides have become MUCH flatter , especially since leaving KY. today we'll ride by Mississippi river and cross into Missouri. I'm certainly gettin a good view of rural, midwest life!...Love, Paul
June 10, 2010
Notes from mom 6/7/10
Paul called from Morrisville, MO [north of Springfield MO, west of Ft Leonard Wood and I-44] this evening. He expects to be in KS within two days. The group sounds as though all is going well. Their leader continues to drive in a vehicle, still healing from broken collar bone, rib and now maybe broken pelvis [must be tough even driving]. He is now able to carry a cooler in the car with ice so that the food variety has expanded and the bikers don't have to carry all the food supplies. The group is now down to 14 - seems to have adjusted to the loss of two riders- maybe even doing better.
Paul was tired this evening - after a hilly ride today west of I-44. He is also recovering from a sunburn he received while tubing this weekend. He is still interested in the life style of small town America. He actually had a discussion today with a small grocery store manager - not owner but employee - who lives with his wife and family on $50,000/year [combined income, both he & his wife work], raising some cattle on 40 acres and seems to consider himself to be living a very good life.
Interestingly, the tandem couple from Aulstralia - he aged 78, she aged 75 - have long since passed this group. They keep a steady pace and just keep riding fairly long days.
Kathleen
Paul was tired this evening - after a hilly ride today west of I-44. He is also recovering from a sunburn he received while tubing this weekend. He is still interested in the life style of small town America. He actually had a discussion today with a small grocery store manager - not owner but employee - who lives with his wife and family on $50,000/year [combined income, both he & his wife work], raising some cattle on 40 acres and seems to consider himself to be living a very good life.
Interestingly, the tandem couple from Aulstralia - he aged 78, she aged 75 - have long since passed this group. They keep a steady pace and just keep riding fairly long days.
Kathleen
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