Day 20: Rapid City & Rushmore

Today's rest day was a little more exciting than the last three rest days - I actually made it beyond the dorm. A whole group of us rented cars and went to Mt. Rushmore, and some went to Crazy Horse, too.

Two of the cars, including the one I was riding in, participated in a mass breakfast/brunch at the Breakfast Nook, while the 3rd vehicle went ahead to Keystone & Mt. Rushmore. After some calls back and forth, we all met up at the monument for some photo opportunities. Shortly after we'd come together, I jumped ship (car?) since I really didn't feel like seeing Crazy Horse. Instead, I went with Alan, Brian, and Alice to window shop in Keystone, a typical seasonal town selling whatever it can get the tourists to buy. It put me in mind of Conway, NH. Then, we went to the Fire House Brewery, in the middle of Rapid City. It's got a pretty cool atmosphere, in an old firehouse (shocking, isn't it with a name like the Fire House Brewery?). This evening's festivities will include making tomorrow's lunch and SLEEPING!

Temps are supposedly going to hit a record breaking 110 here in Rapid City. Dry heat or not, walking outside is a chore. It is not comfortable. We picked a good day to not ride!
Tomorrow we start a six day stretch with 101 miles, followed on Monday by 95 mi. The rest of the week should be a little easier in terms of mileage, but I believe that the weather will continue to bring large amounts of sun and more heat. Think tailwinds, everyone!

Day 19: State #5

81.64 mi max 42.0 6:09.58 avg 13.2 mph

Hi. My name is Chris. I'm 27 years old. And I spent fifteen minutes this evening digging through other people's soggy napkins so that I could recover my retainers.

Remind me again...why were retainers a better idea than keeping the braces on as I'm biking across the country?

The DRG starts off with a brief description of the route: "A challenging day with some great riding tthrough Custer State Park. Climb & descend 3000 ft in the Black Hills." That pretty much sums up the day.

For the first 50 miles or so, the climbs were pretty intense. A couple of times, I even broke 5 mph. I've got to figure out a way to embrace the uphills - if there's anyone who has any climbing tips, PLEASE give me some suggestions! Especially before we hit the Appalachians. We're not there yet and I'm already getting worried. That doesn't bode well!

At the top of one climb (near the main tourist trap entrance of Jewel Cave (meaning lantern tours)) Laura, Ronnie, Rick & I stopped to talk to a ranger, Todd, who was riding a spiffy road bike and had a really cool NPS cycling jersey. He told us that the fire that we saw had been caused by a female arsonist. She had flicked a cigarette into the woods and started a fire that destroyed 85,500 acres of forest. Currently, she's serving 10 years in federal and has 15 in state prison...not because of the destruction caused to the forest but because ONE building went up in the blaze. The logic is hard to follow.

We went over Galena Pass in Custer State Park, which was 5300', only a little less climbing than over the Continental Divide. The downhill was sweeeeeeeeeet. I love taking the curvy roads at ridiculous speeds, keeping up with the cars in the middle of their lane. There might have been buffalo in some of the fields, but traveling at 35-40 mph just doesn't allow much room for error...and since I wasn't really in the mood to become a human water balloon, I kept my eyes on the road.

The second best part of the whole day (after the descent through Custer State Park) was arriving before my roommate. It was the first time I've ever gotten to choose which side of the room I'm on. I know it's a small thing, but there is definitely something very exciting about having first-pick.

Eric C. and I played ping pong after dinner (and after I found my retainers). That is, we played ping pong for about 5 minutes before I made this amazing shot in which the ping pong ball bounced hard on the table, ricocheted off the wall, landed on the pool table, and dropped down into the chute...where, of course, we would have had to insert quarters to play and get ALL of the balls out. (Fortunately, the girl at the desk shook her head and said, "I've never heard that one before," as she gave me a new ball.)

Day 18: Gillette to Newcastle, WY

73.87 mi 30.0 max 4:29.09 avg 16.6


Wow, that last one was a really long post. Some days are like that, I guess.

According to several people, there were some miscreants who ran through our camp (which was in the Gillette city park) beating tents with sticks. I was on the edge of our little tent city, and Brian called over to ask if I was alright, and apparently I rolled over. As far as I know, none of this happened, because I had my earplugs in. The light sleepers among us heard the kids going through, but there were also many who were too exhausted after our last day to hear anything.

Today was so much better. I never thought that I'd say it was an easy 80 miles or so...but I got into camp by 2. I did 75 miles in under 4 1/2 hours of ride time. I've NEVER averaged 16.6 mph on a ride. Of course, the elevation profile looked like a ramp, and we had a tailwind as stiff as the headwind from yesterday. We all NEEDED this day, because it was pure fun. I remember why I like cycling! In the beginning of the day, Eric K., Charlie, and I rode together. Eric has such a wry sense of humor, and his timing is impeccable. Ask him to tell his fifty mile joke sometime - but to make it work, you should be going over cut pavement after having ridden at least 50 miles. He says he'd write them down, but then you'd lose the accents - and that would really detract from the joke.
For the last 15 miles or so, I made up my mind to just ride faster. I passed a couple of people...that mantra really works, on the downhills, anyway.

In the afternoon, I spent most of my time working on my pictures, naming the ones that I'd downloaded onto Deb's computer in the first week on the trip. Hopefully, that will make the selection a little easier when it comes time to put them all together. Maybe.

The pictures that you see above are from our ride across ANOTHER construction zone. About 10 or 12 of us stacked onto a flatbed truck - Ellen (in the orange helmet) laid across the tops of the bikes, Steve & Brian sat on top of the truck, and Christy was sitting on the end, holding the bikes on. There were other people on & in the truck, too. We were assured that this was indeed the safest way across the construction site (by the woman driving the truck, with the cutest little dog sitting in her lap). Needless to say, we weren't convinced as the truck shifted from one side of the road to another, threatening once to spill us onto the ground as the truck hit a soft shoulder. Afterwards, we wondered why we couldn't have followed the pilot car - that probably would have the most safe option.

Ahh, always an adventure!

Day 17: The broke spoke...part deux

88.46 mi (out of 112) max 37.5 mph 8:17.28 avg. 10.6 mph

Not only do I believe that Wyoming exists, it is also tangible evidence that evil is present in this world.

I think this is the first day that I've really wanted to go home. I mean, I've missed Madison, and I've missed my friends, and I've missed kayaking, but today just made me want to curl up into a ball and teleport myself back to Barre. (Whose idea was this silly ride anyway?)

The very first thing that happened to me this morning was that the pump ate the valve stem on my tube, before I even left camp, bringing my flat tire count to three. I suppose that it was my fault for using the pump that doesn't really work...my bad. Still, I thought that I got out of camp at a reasonable time, in the middle of the pack. Ha. By mile 25, 38 riders were ahead of me. There are 39 riders. A little while after that first water stop (and Ucross, an artists' colony with a population of 25), I passed Eric K, whose legs had turned into oatmeal (although they looked ok to me). He caught up to me in time for me to witness his tire go flat, but he waved me on.

So, I was riding along and noticed that my rear wheel felt weird and really draggy...after my first broken spoke episode, of course, any weirdness is reason for an automatic stop-and-check. Sure enough, another stupid spoke had popped. I didn't feel nearly as despondent as I did last time though - my odometer read 42 miles. According to the DRG, there'd be a cafe in a mile. Alan had passed me about 5 minutes earlier - chances would be excellent that either he or another staff member would be there. And even if they weren't, Eric would be passing me MOMENTARILY, and he could get word to someone up ahead (since my cell phone had only analog signal). I started walking towards town.

Sure enough, Eric passed me, got word to Alan, and Alan's now-familiar blue van pulled into a small turnout not too far from where the initial incident had occurred. In no time, Alan fixed my spoke and I was back on the road.

For an hour.

I was feeling pretty good, despite the facts that I was now significantly behind everyone else and there was a headwind starting to pick up. Even the climbs weren't bothering me too much. It was great, knowing that I was still riding despite having had some mechanical issues.

If I were a faster rider, perhaps I'd have been able to make up the time that I'd lost. Or maybe the staff wouldn't have worried about where I was - they'd know that I'd be able to make up that distance by just riding faster. Unfortunately, that's not the case. I've demonstrated time and again to myself and staff that my pace is my pace and I am virtually incapable of hammering it out when there are uphills or headwinds. I was just beginning a downhill when Alan stuck his hand out of the window, motioning for me to stop. He told me that I was getting bumped up because the staff resources were being stretched too thin - meaning that the riders at the head of the pack were too far ahead of the people - person - at the back, and the staff couldn't meet all of our needs. Therefore, it was necessary to sag me. Additionally, there was some construction that all the riders needed to portage around, so the vehicles were needed for both shuttling and water stops on the hot and windy day.

I tried not to cry, but that worked for about 3.2 seconds...and once the floodgates opened, I couldn't stop them. I fully understood the decision of the staff. It is their job to keep us riders safe on the roads, which includes proper hydration and transport across impassable sections of the route. They can't do that when there's a 50 or 60 mile spread between first and last riders, it's a hot, dry day and there's a nasty, 10 mile stretch of torn up road. I was most frustrated with myself. Why am I so slow compared to all these other people? Am I not strong? Am I only made for downhills (both on land and on the river - although water presents fewer uphill opportunities)? Why can't I just go faster? People tell me not to worry about it, that I'm finishing the route...but it DOES matter to me. I WANT to be able to keep up with other people. I WANT to be able to ride in a paceline. Not necessarily with the people who finish the 100-mile days in under 4 hours...but at least be able to keep up with other riders, on both the downhills AND the uphills (which is where everyone typically passes me). I WANT to ride with people without feeling like they are holding back so that Chris can keep up.

After the construction, we were dropped off on regular pavement...and the fun began. The headwind had picked up to a hurricane gale force . The closer we got to Gillette, WY, the more rolling the hills became. If I didn't pedal as I went downhill, the wind would have pushed me to a standstill...and maybe even back up the hill. The wind was oppressively hot, not unlike going into Vantage, except that the grades of the hills weren't enough to offset the strength of the wind burning into my lungs. Everyone from the group that had been shuttled across the construction with me had long taken off into the distance, which was probably just as well, since I was virtually inconsolable. Every time I rounded a corner, I'd hope to see something other than another hill, each one larger than the last. All I could do was face the wind, struggle up each incline, and wail. I'm not sure that any one of those things did me any good.

I did stop briefly at the Eagle Butte Mine - check out the size of the tire that they use in the mine trucks, compared to the size of my bike.

Coming into the city, the final group that had been shuttled across the construction caught up to me. At that point, the salt deposits on my lenses prevented me from seeing street signs, so it was good to follow other people. Plus, the other riders & the staff didn't make a big deal about my coming into camp. Some thought that I'd actually ridden with the group through that headwind. I gathered my things, and Brian grabbed my bike for me and showed me a shady spot under a tree. I dropped in the grass, and didn't move for a long time. A couple of people came over, including Christy. She told me that I was strong for fighting that headwind - she'd had a total of four flat tires that day...and almost everyone had ridden in with someone else. It didn't help that I told myself that if I'd been strong, I'd have been able to make up the 15 miles that I'd been sagged, or that if I were stronger I COULD have ridden with another person. I know that everyone had a rough day today.

Finally, I built up enough motivation to set up my tent. Remember that headwind I was talking about? It hadn't gone away...perhaps it would have been better to put a string (cable?) on the fabric and just fly a tent-shaped kite. Bob came over to help me batten down the hatches, and I crawled inside my blue cocoon. Although there were several offers for dinner, my body and mind really needed to be separate from other humans (I missed Madison!), and once inside my tent, I slept - on the ground, without the air mattress. At 8:30, I managed to drag myself over to the community center, where the showers were housed. By 9:00, I was back in my tent, on my air mattress this time...but not for long. The very coolest thunderstorm had developed, and several of us, including Deb, Brian & Charlie, were treated to Nature's fireworks - lightning streaked across the sky and sometimes the thunder was right over us - very, very cool, and with only a few drops of rain! That might well have been the only good thing about the whole day.

Day 16: Wyoming....why not?

83.30 mi 36.5 max 6:27.49 avg. 12.9mph

This evening, we're in Wyoming. I'm finding it difficult to maintain my theory that Wyoming is a conspiracy theory. I mean...I've never met anyone from WY. I've never heard of anyone going to WY. When I was in Idaho doing trail work, I never saw a sign on the trail saying "You are now entering Wyoming" - for all I knew, I had stayed in Idaho the whole time (actually, I still maintain that I never left ID). Finally, when I was on top of Table Mountain, someone pointed in the direction of where Wyoming might have been, but there were only clouds and fog. Hence my belief that Wyoming was a made-up place.

Now though, having seen the state sign, I must participate in the conspiracy by pretending to believe that Wyoming does exist.

This morning's ride began with the last little bit of Montana. The first 60 miles were an almost imperceptible incline, most of which I rode alone. There was a little headwind, but nothing terrible. At Anna's stop, right on the WY-MT supposed border, Bob (in the picture) caught up to me and stayed with me for the rest of the day. We hauled some serious tail on the downhill section, averaging around 20 mph. It's great to be able to draft behind a stronger rider, because it cuts down on the amount of work (pedaling) I have to do. Maybe one day I'll be strong enough to pull other riders along in a paceline (you know how when you are driving along and sometimes you'll see 3 or 4 or 5 (or more) riders riding really fast, one RIGHT BEHIND another? That's a paceline).

We rode for the last time on the Mass Pike (I-90) today...that's exciting! I don't think I could ever get used to riding on interstates, even though the shoulders are so much wider than many secondary roads.

Our accomodations were at a KOA campground. Some people decided to head into town for dinner, taking the shuttle or riding bikes. After riding 80 miles, the Chuck Wagon was the perfect distance from my tent - less than fifty yards. Who could resist dinner made by the chef, a round gentleman wearing suspenders AND a belt to hold up his shorts (you never can be too sure). It was definitely the best cheese buffalo burger I've ever had. Except for the one at Bub's.

I'm much more worried about tomorrow. I left this morning at 6:15...only fifteen minutes after breakfast opened...and still, many people passed me. I'm aiming for the same game plan tomorrow, except I'll leave a little sooner (hopefully, I'll sleep well - I had a semi-nap this afternoon after I rode). Everyone is talking about pacelines and headwinds. At our meeting this evening, staff Mark told us that we'd be facing a 5-15 mph headwind for most of the day.

Eeeek.

Day 15: Last day of Montana

53.37 mi 36.0 max 4:06.38 avg. 13.0 mph

Today's ride felt really short. There was really only one hill, coming out of Billings (that's the city behind me in the picture) Compared to some of the rides we've been doing...90-100 miles...53 miles DOES kind of seem like an inordinately short day. One cool thing was that we got to ride through a construction site - the cars were all detoured around the bridge, so there was a bit of time where we could ride side by side and the staff couldn't really say anything to us because a) there were no cars which meant that b) the staff couldn't really follow us. Except for Paula, who was (incidentally) riding next to me.

Everyone was onto the field at Hardin by 12:30 or so. Good thing, because we quickly discovered how happening a place Hardin actually is. There are several fast food joints, a handful of gas station/casinos and a couple of cheap motels, and, uhh, that's about it. Brian, Sean, and I biked the extra half mile to the Dairy Queen in the center of town...the bonus mile was worth the well-deserved Blizzard (DQ has nothing on Bart's though!!!!)
About twenty people commandeered a bus from the senior center and took it to the Battle of Little Bighorn (they couldn't stand the thought of an entire afternoon in exciting Hardin, MT). Apparently, the tour bus was hot and many of the would-be historians suffered an acute case of narcolepsy. I opted to pretend it was summer vacation, so I hung around the house (tent) doing nothing (yup, nothing). Actually, that's not ENTIRELY true...I watched Alan as he swore at my rear wheel while rebuilding it. He said that there was some rust that had built up in my freewheel, and that it might make some noise as it works its way out. I'm just hoping that when I go up hills tomorrow it's not like I'm dragging an elephant.

Deb's been having a really hard time sleeping, between the tenting thing and the train tracks that we are always sleeping next to, so she decided to get a motel room for a night. She invited both Brian and me over to her luxurious accomodations...which included a pool with a water slide. The water slide was THE BEST! Our safety manager, Britney Spears, snapped her gum at the top of the ladder and gave us the go-ahead when it was safe to descend the chute. When she dropped her glass bottle of ice tea on the pavement below, she suggested that we might avoid walking near the broken glass...the young boy with the pair of spitting crocodile eyes who was playing in the pool at the same time as we were managed to pick up several shards in his foot, despite her words of caution.

We discovered that the fastest way to go down was lying on our backs, and the most terrifying way was to go on our backs with our eyes closed. The water slide totally gets five stars. And the rain storm that came in on us while we were in the pool was pretty intense too!

Day 14: Rest day #3

I spent just about all day on the computer writing out the stories of the past 14 days. It's a good feeling to have that out of the way. Lemme know what you think about the pics/narration/etc!

Brian, Deb & I spent some time talking to a reporter this afternoon...check out http://www.billingsgazette.net/articles/2006/07/10/news/local/35-ride.txt for the story.

This picture is a view that I took yesterday, from an overlook above the city.

Day 13: Into Billings!

90.59 mi. max 36.5 6:26.42 14.0 avg

You get.....last place!
Actually, Paul rode with me at the very end, because we'd had a change in university location. That was good, because the last hill coming up to Billings had not looked as challenging on the elevation profile on the DRG. In real life, though, I didn't like the looks of it...AT ALL. I'm looking forward to lounging tomorrow.

The first fifty miles were a continuation of yesterday...great tailwind on US Rt. 12. Many people stopped at Ryegate, MT. The bar there in town was open, even though it was 8 o'clock in the morning; apparently, there were even people there (aside from us bikers). I can't tell you from personal experience - the people who went to the bar at 8 were on a mission to buy the famous "Testicle Festival" T-shirts. Sorry gang, not my cup of tea!

I rode with Charlie Shuttleworth, the head of the English Dept. at a boarding school in New York City. The best part was averaging about 17 mph for the first few hours - what a way to eat up the miles in a century! I like riding with Charlie. He's got a lot of good stories to tell, because he's been cycling for a long time, and has done lots of touring cross-country and through lots of parts of the US that I'd like to visit, like Bryce & Zion, and Yellowstone. And he knows parts of the country that I adore, like the Kancamangus highway in NH.

The second part of the day didn't go nearly as well. I fell behind on the hills, until everyone had passed me, except for Eric K. Just before he pulled into the last rest stop, I was gearing up to leave when I heard PPPFISSSSSSSSSS...the sound of air rushing out of a tube that had been left in the sun. Fortunately, it happened at the rest stop. Yesterday, I had switched from my Camelbak to the top part of my backpack (which, with the hipbelt, turns it into a waistpack thingie). Of course, I hadn't yet switched my flat-fixing-tools to the new waistpack system...so Spike had the tools onboard his van.

I think the best part of the day was getting into camp. We had a huge cookout in the park behind our dorm, surf & turf with lots of creative and healthy salads...and ice cream for dessert! Afterwards, I moseyed back to the room. My roommate, Carol, was out for the night, and I took the opportunity to stay in and catch up with my friends from back home (yeah for free minutes on nights and weekends!).

Day 12: Avon to Harlowton

101.28 mi max 49.0 mph 7:43.03 avg 13.1

Today was the best day ever! I think it was mostly downhill, which would be why I went so fast! I left on the early side, so I could at least see people as they passed me. For a short distance (3 miles maybe?), I was even able to draft behind Brian before I fell behind (see the picture). The first part of the day took us 1200 ft. up through a canyon. I was with Maria for a little while, and we saw some deer (pronghorns maybe?) just around a corner. They blinked inquisitively at us for a moment, and then unhurriedly bounced back up the hill - well, unhurried until one of them slipped on the slope, knocking down a load of sand and gravel. It quickly recovered and took off after its friends.

Bob stayed with me through the climb. We both agreed that this would be the perfect place to come back and visit - so many great hiking spots to explore, if only there were more time. Maybe when I retire I'll get a little cabin like the one pictured - a small place surrounded by mountains, with a little bubbly stream flowing behind the house (wait, that's JUST like the cabin!)

I observed another funny sound coming from my bike - after my spoke episode, I'm hyper-paranoid about bike sounds - so I stopped to look. I noticed that one of the spokes was rubbing against the rear derailleur, and Bob saw that the rear wheel couldn't complete two rotations in free spin. He likened it to hauling a forty pound load, so when I reached the top of the climb, I stopped by Alan's van so that he could work some magic on my wheels.

And the magic he worked! The downhill was crazy fun!!!!!! I hit 49 mph going dooooooown the other side of the hill I'd just climbed. I can't begin to describe the view...it's something that you just have to experience. Since you all can't be here with me, though, I'll try to tell you what it was like. After I checked in with Paula, at the top of the climb, the road flattened out, with some gentle rollers, but no more extreme elevation change. I could see for miles to either side of me...and the horizon met the earth, that connection unbroken by mountains. The road suddenly curved to the right and seemed to drop off the face of the planet...and by my speed, it felt like it, too. I tightened my body into the most aerodynamic position - the wind ripped the breath right out of me as I flew. The hills are so round and huge and there are so many that are visible from such a vantage point. The road is simply insignificant, an old, almost-healed scar on the land. Me? I'm nothing more than a speck of dust...the world is so big and I can't take it all in as I'm shooting down wherever the road takes me. My focus narrows to the road a couple of hundred yards in front of me - one slight move the wrong way and I'll find out what oblivion really means. I enjoyed that ride.

White Sulphur Springs is the only town between Avon to Harlowton (really...for my friends from MA, when we think of distances between towns & services, they are NOTHING compared to out here. Barre is a happening place!). Many people stopped for a second breakfast at Dory's. In our Daily Route Guide (lovingly referred to as our DRG), it was listed as "Big Ride Food To Remember." I skipped over that, because I knew that I'd be last in, which meant last out, which meant that once the people I was with left me, I wouldn't see anyone else for the rest of the day. I do know that someone has to be last into camp every day, but I just don't always want it to be me...and even if people do pass me on the road, at least I get a little bit of human interaction (while I have tested 100% positive for introversion, it doesn't necessarily mean I don't like being with other people!).

When I stopped at Anna's van, she laughed and asked what I was doing there so early - there were NINE people behind me! I guess I shook up the status quo :) The deerflies bit viciously, so standing around the water cooler wasn't an option - I took off quite rapidly.
As it turned out, Bob & Larry caught up to me at the final watering hole (Dennis's van). I hardly stopped there at all - I was feeling good, there had been an awesome tailwind and it was mostly downhill all the way into Harlowton. I probably should have stopped for a bit longer, because about 5 miles after, my stomach cramped up...and as focused as I'd been earlier on the road, my world was reduced to omphaloskepsis...and it wasn't pleasant.

At the end of the day, Dennis offered to ride with me some time to see if he could give me some pointers. It's not that I WANT to be slow...I just am. It gets very frustrating.

While I was biking, I compared my musical life to my cycling life. When I was in college, each fall for three years running, I was placed in the last stand of the second violins in the second-class orchestra. By the third year, that placement stung. If I compare myself to the riders on this trip, I'm probably the best violinist here...but judged against a jury of my peers, I'm a mediocre player. And now with cycling, the majority of EVERYONE I know wouldn't even think about undertaking a project like this....but when I compare myself to the people here, I'm weak. The riders on this trip all seem to be really, really strong cyclists. There are people who have actually said that the route we're taking goes out of its way to make it easy on us (i.e. going through the lowest pass in the Rockies)...but I'm just lucky to make it into camp at the end of each day!!

Day 11: Crossing the Continental Divide

62.94 mi max 43.0 mph 5:52.00 avg 10.7

Getting up over MacDonald Pass and the Continental Divide was T-O-U-G-H!!!! The incline was fairly steep - it was essentially 20 miles of uphill. Halfway up, someone had painted some encouragement on the road (see the picture above). It was long, and slow going. If you have any climbing suggestions, please let me know!!!! I did summit my first peak in the Rockies. Being slow DID have its advantage that day, because I actually got a view - everyone else had seen nothing but fog.

After the pass was AWESOME!!!! There was a 12 mile descent. That rocked - I love flying down a mountain at 38 mph for a long time. That is a problem in the Northeast. Short climbs, but short descents, too.

We went through Helena, but I didn't stop for very long. Lots of people took the train ride through town, since it was an "easy" day...I did go to the Evil Empire (SprWal-Mart) to have my camera pics transferred to CD. I'll have more room now to take more pictures!

At the end, Debbie and I rode into camp together. The headwind was ridiculous, but at least the downhills made up for it. I was very excited for Debbie - she had made it all the way over the Rockies AND had ridden the whole entire day.

Day 10: the first REAL century...almost

99.67 mi max 32.0 mph 8:46.10 avg 11.3

I did it today...that alone was a miracle! Deb & I started out together. We were passed by 3 people, and thought we'd done well getting out ahead of everyone. Apparently it wasn't good enough. That was actually ok, because we saw 5 mountain goats....very, incredibly cool!

After a stop for a huckleberry milkshake, Deb & Eric K pulled ahead, and later on, I only saw Eric at a rest stop. Again, I was on my own.

About this time two years ago, I was in graduate school, taking a course that was heavily infused with Myers-Briggs tests & analysis. I'd taken the quizzes before, and had almost always scored around 95% introverted...but in grad school, I finally managed a perfect score: 100% introverted. It's probably a good thing that I am comfortable with silence and with being by myself for long periods of time.

The thunderstorm took a long time to build...our route headed straight into the gaping maw of the storm. Thunder and impressive lightning and a headwind to beat ALL headwinds. Not only did I get totally soaked, I also mostly dried before I got back to camp.

Dinner was good - spaghetti & sauce, fruit salad, bread & the most delicious chocolate cream pie ever. I skipped the pie place that was on-route...I just really wanted to get into camp BEFORE they started serving dinner.

This evening was extremely entertaining: about half of the guys have gotten mohawks. Some of the women talked about it...but like typical women, more talk and less action :) Hopefully I'll be able to steal someone else's picture and post it here!

Day 9: Rest day in Missoula!

I did what I needed to do today...which was probably good, but it definitely wasn't what I wanted to do. I missed my kayak!!!!

All of the morning and a good part of the afternoon was dedicated to writing out my thank you cards. I also talked with Ellen for a while. She is a former FBI agent who lives in Florida. She is working on some kind of project about our mothers. It will be interesting to see what she writes...for the record, always add extra vanilla to your Toll House chocolate chip cookies.

Sometime during the afternoon, a dog came into the building and just laid down in the common room. I went over to it and patted it and gave it some water. She was hungry, too, but I had nothing to feed her. She followed me upstairs and all around. At six, Brian and I had agreed to go on a walk to the "M" on the hill, about a half hour "hike" (it wasn't STRAIGHT UP like New England trails...it had all these switchbacks!). Miss Dawg followed us all the way up and all the way back. It was hot - I gave her water out of my Nalgene. We also met two people who were at the Bikecentennial reunion - they'd gone coast to coast 30 years ago and we chatted for a bit, comparing notes about our different tours.

The dog was still with me. I tried called the humane shelters but being the fourth - SURPRISE! - they were all closed. I called the campus security, who did arrive promptly. The officer was kind...he even called NPR, which had had an announcement about a similar lost dog earlier in the evening. It was not of Miss Dawg, though...he assured me that he'd take care of her. I didn't cry, although I was close. Afterwards, I went back to the dinner making area and Brian & Moon & Paula & a couple of other people were there. They asked where the dog was, and I said that campus security had taken her. Brian started teasing me because I'd asked earlier if I knew of any no-kill shelters - he said not in his area, and Paula chimed in, "Not in my area either." I just looked up at both of them and said, "I didn't cry when they took her away." Miss Dawg DID remind me of my dog Madison...and I do so wish that she was here now!

Day 8: The bike spoke...

65.04 (out of 101 mi) max 38.5 5:35.54 avg 11.6

Breakfast this morning was again at Minnie's. We biked from the high school down the hill, back to the center of town...that gave us all 3 before-breakfast bonus miles. We'd had a meeting the evening before, and Paula had told us that in addition to having a century (riding 100 miles) to complete, we'd be facing a nasty section of construction, a section of a four-lane highway with no shoulder, on an incline, and unforgiving traffic (read: stupid people with no business driving RVs). That would be followed by downhill with a shoulder with rumble strips all the way across, and random piles of sand, gravel, and glass. Knowing all this made the 45 minute wait for breakfast VERY frustrating, especially since I was among the last of the people to get into the restaurant. Fortunately, I train for speed-eating before school, so I had just about finished my meal by the time the waitress set my plate on the table. As usual, it wasn't long before I was the last rider.

We passed through Paradise today...no, really, we did! I even bought stamps at the post office in Paradise. At about 10:15, I waved at Alan when he passed me in his van. About fifteen minutes later, disaster struck. I heard this funny, regular clicking sound and thought to myself, I should really have Alan check that out tonight at camp. A few minutes later, there were several funny clicking sounds. I figured that I should have a look at it myself. Almost immediately, I saw the spoke hanging at a right angle to the other spokes on the wheel (see the picture above, the spoke is at about 3 o'clock). I spun the wheel, and sure enough, it was pretty badly out of true. Pulling my bike over to a flat rock, I pulled out my trusty cell phone and watched the service indicator go from 3 bars to 2 to analog, and cycle back through. Yeah for western Montana. I called one of the numbers on our list, but all that Paula could hear was that there was a female rider with a broken spoke. Without a name or a rider number, that information was practically useless...but every time I tried to say either my name or number, either my phone or hers would threaten to drop the call. So, I settled in to wait.

I know that I fell asleep for a while, mostly because of the puddle of drool that had collected on my knee. When I woke up, I realized that the vehicles would not be sweeping anymore because they were all involved in a portage around the 11 miles of construction. At least the spot that I'd chosen was on the Clark Fork River, with a hayfield and huge mountains as a backdrop. And there was the bus stop, too (surprisingly, in 2 1/2 hours, there were no buses that went by). A little past one, Mark pulled up in the van, and I got sagged 37 miles. Then, Alan became my hero-for-the-day by fixing my wheel. Deb waited for me, and we started off again.

It was a struggle. Deb is a strong climber, and was out of sight shortly. There really wasn't much shoulder, and traffic moved fast, although that didn't bother me as much as my inability to move faster than molasses uphill in January...I just can't seem to alter my pace. I was...am...afraid that I'd burn through my energy and have nothing left for the next 30 odd miles. I was frustrated that my bike had broken and that I had to be sagged. And my final frustration was looking at the Clark Fork River and seeing all kinds of whitewater and kayaking opportunities...and knowing that there was no way I'd be able to rent a kayak...since everything was closed for the Fourth of July. I am sending my dry top home.

I was barely holding myself together as I pulled into the dorm. I'd become lost (shocking, isn't it?) once I'd finally made it to campus. The girl who was supposed to hand me my key and meal card couldn't get into her office. Dinner would be closing in ten minutes. She told me to just go over to the cafeteria, and they'd take my name. When I stepped into the cafeteria, everyone started cheering...but then the checker needed my card which I didn't have...and that was the beginning of my meltdown. I explained the situation and the supervisor had to come over to have me sign in. As I approached the dinner tables, more cheering ensued and I just stood there and bawled. I wasn't happy with my performance that day, being last and then breaking a spoke and having to sag and spending forever on a hill with nasty traffic and getting lost and knowing that there'd be no kayaking. I know that everyone had really good intentions - DESPITE all that had happened I'd ridden into camp. It was definitely the toughest day so far.

Day 7: Leaving Idaho

88.22 mi.
max 35.0 7:10.37 avg 12.3

I chose to wear the yellow jersey again today. In Lance's book, he says that his teammates took to calling him "Mellow Johnny," a mispronunciation of the french maillot jaune, or yellow shirt - the color of the jersey for the person with the lead in the Tour de France. I kind of got to be like Lance...I was Mellow Johnny - except that I wasn't in the lead of the Tour de France.

We started out of Sandpoint, ID - I wasn't last for a while! We spent a long time around the shore of Lake Pend Oreille, and we had been told to watch for moose and other wildlife. As I rounded a curve, I saw Anna and sang out, "Here, moosie, moosie, moosie!" She laughed and said, "Let me know how that works out for you." Less than one mile down the road, Will had a flat tire...and just then, a moose began its swim across the river. It was very cool (Katie & I kind of forgot about Will's flat for a moment).

It wasn't too long before I became the last rider. I didn't mind so much, though, because I was enjoying everything. Somewhere along the Pend Oreille River, I stopped for lunch. It was a secluded spot along the riverbank. The water was moving at a decent clip...a family of ducks came out and swam for a while in front of me, too.

A little while after I passed into Montana, I saw Deb ahead of me. I was actually catching up to her when she dipped behind a hill...and disappeared! That's when I saw the Boar's Breath Bar & Grill. We stopped, and although I'd not intended to, we had lunch (I think that was my third lunch that day). I started out with a serving of ice cream. It was plain vanilla, but it rivaled the butterfat in Bart's. Deb ordered a root beer float, cheese quesadillas, and nachos. Far too much for one person...so I guess it was pretty lucky that she had me along to help her out :)

We continued on - eventually Deb pulled in front of me again and I continued to make my way towards Thompson Falls. At some point, I realized that I needed to keep a healthy pace going or I'd not make it back in time for dinner. Although it was hot out, I did okay going up and own the gentle rollers in western Montana. To my surprise, I passed Deb on the side of the road, maybe 10 or 15 miles outside of camp. She had completely blown through a tire, and was waiting for Alan. Apparently, he had driven right past her (I saw him drive past me right before I came upon Deb) - she had fallen asleep in the ditch. I waited with her until Alan pulled up (about 12 seconds later) and then I left, figuring that she would catch up to me...she arrived at camp about five minutes after I did.

Dinner was at Minnie's cafe - it was a real burger with fries...no pasta! I had decided, since I'd come in so late, that I would not set up my tent. I would just sleep outside on my Thermarest with my sleeping bag (on the footprint from my tent). Just as I was wiggling out of my shorts (which are still too tight), I heard screams and the sound of a sprinkler system turning on. I wiggled back into my shorts and helped cover the sprinklers, first with my hands, then with garbage pails and stainless steel bowls from the home ec room. Deb's stuff got soaked pretty badly - I gave her my fleece liner and my tent, since I wasn't planning on using them. Roberta and Sean actually became trapped in their tents. It was not exactly the best way to spend the evening before our first century.

You might think that we'd been through enough for one night. Ha! Some idiot decided to make lots of noise in the parking lot of the high school by squealing his tires...at 4 in the morning. Every time I stuck my head out of my sleeping bag, the mosquitoes would attack - perhaps sleeping without a tent is more a romantic notion and less of a practical decision.

The picture of the river above is the Clark Fork. With any kind of luck, I will be able to rent a kayak in Missoula and *play*...combining the best of both worlds!!!

Day 6: Entering Idaho

79.27 mi max 35.5 6:04.56 avg. 13.0 mph

I felt really STRONG today! It was kind of exciting - getting up over the hills wasn't as difficult as it has been for the past few days. I made sure that I was pretty well packed last night and worked really hard to get at least in the middle of the pack. I didn't stay for very long at any of the rest stops either...although I did stop at the Pend Oreille Dam. I missed the guided tour by an hour - it would have been really cool to go down inside the dam to see how everything works. I did, however, stay to watch video about the construction of the dam - essentially Army Corps of Engineers propaganda about how they juggle the needs of the different groups using the resources.

After our ride, Deb, Charlie & I went swimming in the Lake/River of Pend Oreille. It was so pretty! The water felt great after the day of cycling. In the picture of the the lake above, you can see all the gulls lined up on the logs that were lining the swimming area.

Day 5: Rest day in Spokane!

Today was perfect...I slept in, had a leisurely breakfast at a real bagel shop, and basically spent the day relaxing. Well, there was a brisk walk over to the IMAX theater where a group of us saw "Wired to Win," about how the brain is programmed for us to strive for success. It featured shots from the Tour de France. We keep trying until we get it right - whether it's riding a bike, playing an instrument, or rolling a kayak. It's interesting, how the human brain continues to motivate us to succeed even in the face of failure.

Afterwards, I walked with David F. to REI, where I decided to replace my bike gloves with some fancy-schmancy Cannondale gel gloves. We'll see how that works out!

For dinner, a group of us went to the Northern Lights brewery. It was a really fun group...we were treated to a story about Moon's watch. It's probably not as funny reading this entry - it's one of those stories where ya just had to be there.

The ride itself has really taken on the characteristics of camp for Big Kids, complete with the Head Counselor/Ride Director, Paula...various staff (Mark & Dennis)....nurse/bike mechanic, Alan...our massage therapist extraordinaire, Anna-Marie (ok, so they didn't have that at day camp) and all of us kids/campers/bikers....