On the way to the shelter this man recounted how he’d been a “sloper” working on the Alaska pipeline and fairly successful. A six figure income had provided a good living. And then he was injured. His back was a wreck. Multiple surgeries had made it worse to the point where he was unable to work. Circumstances let him slip through the cracks and into homelessness. This was a man not unlike myself except that a series of events lead to living on the streets. I learned more in twenty five minutes about homelessness than I had in my previous fifty years. It opened my eyes and validated why I had joined Share.

When we got to the shelter I helped get him checked in. As I was preparing to leave he looked at me, reached for my hand and said simply – “Thank you.” It wasn’t so much what he said but how he said it. The look in his eyes spoke volumes. This man was genuinely grateful that someone had reached out to him. A simple gesture had made a difference. I walked out to my car and sobbed for several minutes before gathering myself enough to be able to drive.

Fast forward to the summer of 2010…..

There’s a 120 mile stretch of nothing between Lander and Rawlins in Wyoming. I had been laid out with a bout of food poisoning for a couple of days (Note to all cyclists: don’t eat the Thai food in Lander, Wyoming) and knew there wasn’t much in the way of goods and services for that stretch. I rolled out of Lander in stifling heat and muscles with no store of glycogen. There was a nice little climb that got my attention and further reduced my already sapped energy level. My goal had been to make it to this little wide spot in the road about halfway to Rawlins but realized there was no way I’d make it that far. About 30 miles in I was sitting on the side of the road with 5 empty water bottles and only 1 left to make it 30 miles. Not good. A couple stopped and gave me enough cold water out of their cooler to replenish my empty bottles and up the hill I continued, sometimes walking my bike and trailer. A simple gesture….

I’d heard about this little place called Sweetwater Station which was a Pony Express stop and now home to the Mormon Handcart Visitors Center and decided to stop there and try and camp for the night. When I got there I was drained, totally and utterly exhausted. And I didn’t have any food save for one Power Bar. I had left Lander with very little food thinking I’d by okay and top off at the halfway point. Stupid, stupid move. Anyway, when I got to the visitors center there was about 200 LDS having a retreat. They allowed me to camp for the night and not just that, they fed me. And I mean they fed me. These folks let me pitch my tent on their property, take a shower, use their facilities and fed me copious amounts of food. The next morning when I woke up there was fruit and granola bars sitting on the picnic table next to my tent. A simple yet profound gesture……

I rode on toward Rawlins but was still drained physically. About 35 miles outside of Rawlins there’s a lone service station at the junction of two roads. I stopped there and was very nearly at the end of my rope. I’d bonked. For the uninitiated bonking means you have no gas left in the tank. Nada, nothing. I knew there was no way I’d make it to Rawlins. What were my alternatives? I decided to hitch a ride into Rawlins. Normally I wouldn’t do that given my stubborn nature but really, I simply was, for the first time in my life as an athlete…….spent. A young guy pulled up in a pickup truck to get some gas, explained my situation and asked him if he was headed for Rawlins. He told me he was going in the opposite direction so I told him I’d just sit out by the road and put my thumb out. I knew eventually someone would come by. There wasn’t much traffic, it was pretty much nonexistent. A couple of times I climbed on my bike and got about 50 feet. That was it. A car went by and then another. And then I saw a pickup truck coming down the road. It was that young man. He’d gotten about ten miles down the road and turned around and came back. As it turned out, he had just returned from Iraq and he was heading home to his girlfriend. What he said as we ambled toward Rawlins was this – “I knew you were in trouble and hoped that if I ever needed it someone would help so decided to turn around.” Let me tell you, this was a Godsend. A simple yet profound gesture……

It doesn’t take much to make a difference in someone’s life. Sometimes it’s the most simple of gestures that can have the most profound effect. The staff at Share do this every single day. Our community is fortunate to have these people working daily to help the homeless and hungry.

Today, volunteers created 1,244 backpacks for 63 schools throughout Clark County. Now, I’m ashamed to say that in eight years I’ve never participated in the Thursday morning ritual even while serving on the board. Let me tell you, it’s something I won’t soon forget. Dozens of volunteers put the backpacks together in less than two hours and drivers were dispatched to deliver them to the various schools. Quite honestly, I was moved to tears by the process. I found myself going through the line repeatedly and placing food in the canvas bags….first a can of mixed fruit….then a can of mixed veggies followed by a boxed skillet dinner. Then a can of condensed soup….a can of pork & beans…a small snack item…a jar of peanut butter and finally a loaf of bread or package of pasta. This to feed a child for an entire weekend. Two bags at a time I walked through the line. Each time I was wondering, who will receive this food? What is their story? A sense of gratefulness washed over me at times because I have been incredibly blessed in life. As a child I never wondered where my next meal was coming from. Never, not once was I hungry. My parents were always able to provide for me and my siblings.

The staff at Share and its host of volunteers do an incredible job of delivering services to the homeless and hungry in SW Washington. Over 94 cents out of each dollar in the budget goes to its clients. If you are inclined, please click here to donate to this fine organization.

A brief update on my journey. I’ll be departing in ten weeks and two days. Last weekend I bought a Garmin Edge 500 GPS bike computer. I’ve been using an old analog bike computer that while effective at giving me speed and distance was unable to interface with a map program. If you click on my Track Me page you’ll see what I will be posting daily when I’m out on the road. I also bought a GoPro camera which is pretty cool. It mounts on handlebars or my helmet or any number of places. It makes pretty high quality videos. I’ll be using it and posting videos to my YouTube channel fairly often.

This weekend I’ll be taking a wheel building class courtesy of Jude Kirstein at Sugar Wheel Works. By Monday I’ll be riding on a new set of high quality wheels that will take me 12,000 miles. Hawley’s in North Carolina will be packing my trailer up and get it ready to ship back home. It’s been at my brothers since my last journey. I’m looking forward to getting it back home so I can overhaul it and start riding with it again.

I had a meeting today with Noland Hoshino of [B]cause media who gave me lots of great tips on social media. Speaking of social media, Facebook has enabled me to reconnect with people I haven’t talked to in years. I was even able to track down an old friend that I was in the Navy with, um, a few decades ago. The interweb is good for something I suppose.

So, here are some of the newest developments and sponsors:

Jude Kirstein at Sugar Wheels in Portland is building me a couple of bomb proof wheels and putting me through her wheel building workshop. This is huge because over 12,000 miles I won’t have to worry about wheels and if something does happen I’ll know how to repair it myself.

George Thomas of Over the Top Productions will be featuring me in a radio interview sometime in March. And during my journey I’ll be doing a weekly call in. Who is George Thomas? Many of you aren’t cyclists so the name may be unfamiliar. In the cycling world George is legendary. He’s one of the great ultra cyclists of all time. One of the pioneers of the RAAM (Race Across America) and presently the race director. If you want to read a great book about a great athlete check out Going the Distance: The George Thomas Story. I’m thrilled to be working with him over the coming months. And thanks to Andrea at Primal Wear for introducing me to George.

Tori Bortman of Gracie’s Wrench in Portland is making some introductions to people in the cycling community and in fact introduced me to Jude over at Sugar Wheel Works. She’s both a bike mechanic and educator so if you or your company are in need of those kinds of services give her a ring.

West Coast Self Storage will be providing me with a storage unit while I’m gone to store my belongings. This is very generous of them and eliminates a big concern of mine about where I was going to put my – as George Carlin was fond of saying – stuff.

Mayor Tim Leavitt of Vancouver has agreed to ride the first few miles as I roll out of town on May 19^th. I’m honored by this. Mayor Leavitt has been a great supporter of Share. I couldn’t get him to ride all 12,000 miles with me however, something about having a “city to run.”

I wanted to mention a couple of other folks to you:

Cindi Rauch of the Vancouver Bicycle Club is herself doing something extraordinary starting in May. She’ll be doing 50 centuries (100 mile rides) in 50 states in 50 days. Please visit her blog if you want to learn more. Logistically and physically this is a huge undertaking. And like me Cindi is more, um, seasoned.

The people at Share are helping me out a lot as I plan this journey. Many thanks to the crew over there. The whole purpose of this is to raise money and awareness for homelessness and hunger. In these economic times an organization like Share has a considerable amount of demands being placed on them. I know just how well run it is and how dedicated the staff and board is to fulfilling its mission. You could not ask for a finer bunch of people.

I’m presently looking for a public relations / media firm to assist me with finding sponsors. This journey will be more demanding financially and athletically. It should take nearly a year, perhaps a less depending on my fitness level and overall health. Last year I was not a cyclist when I started and there was quite a learning curve. This time around I’ll begin with a pretty high “base” fitness level so it won’t take long to get into a groove.

If anyone knows a good documentary film maker please let me know. Over the next few months I’ll want to get up to speed on the mechanics of film making. No doubt I’ll end up with hundreds of hours of raw footage that will need to be edited after all is said and done. I will be putting up a Youtube channel and posting “mini-documentaries” / human interest videos once or twice a week. And of course I’ll be doing my thing, sending out email blasts and blogging routinely.

Life has a funny way of revealing itself. I’ve been thinking about the next great adventure and what that might be and now I know. A couple of weeks ago my brother Mark called me and told me he wanted us to ride bicycles across the United States together. Needless to say, I said yes. We’ve been orbiting on different planes much of our lives and haven’t spent as much time together as we wanted. He retired from the army a few years ago, a veteran of tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. And he’s turning 50 this year. My little brother is turning 50. It’s kind of hard to wrap my brain around that. His kids are  grown as are mine and more importantly he got a hall pass from his wife, my sister-in-law so now is the time.

So, we’re planning on leaving next March from the east coast and heading west. We’ll likely follow the TransAmerica Trail but maybe deviate a little here and there. Our plan is in its infancy but we do want to raise a little money for charity, perhaps disabled American veterans or something like that. One thing is for certain, I want my brother to train a bit more than I did. What I did was a little on the, um, crazy side. Part of my charm, I suppose. Over the next few months as we prepare I’ll keep you updated. This time we’re going to take a video camera and I’ll be putting up a YouTube channel.

Mark is flying out to visit in early September and we’re going to take a road trip to Montana. We’ll be spending a couple of days in the little town of Darby which was one of my favorite places last year as I peddled my way across the country. I wouldn’t mind buying a little ranch so we’re going to head up there and check it out. I could see myself spending summers up that way and winters in warmer climes. My dad has already said he’d like me to buy a place up there so there’s someplace for us to go for fly fishing.

For now I’m working to get my business off the ground. We’ve got several clients going so we’re pretty busy. I’ve gotten pretty good at website development which is not something I ever expected to be doing. And I’m out riding with the Vancouver Bicycle Club a few times a week or out on my own. Sometimes I enjoy the camaraderie of riding with others, sometimes the solitude is a good thing. Overall I’d say life is a good thing.

As I reflect back on that four months in my life I realize that it changed me. Today as I am out riding it feels different than before I left. As many of you know I wasn’t really a cyclist before my journey. The bicycle felt uncomfortable to me in a way. The action of turning the crank was strange. Now I am one with my bike. In the afternoons when I go out to my garage and see my old Surly it’s almost like visiting with an old friend. I climb on and it’s natural to turn the pedals. While I may not be as fit as when I was in the Rocky Mountains I’m still in good shape and ride between twenty and fifty miles several days a week.

I’m always out trying to find new routes in Clark County and at least once a week I’ll either ride over to Portland or load my bike in my car and go find a new cycling route over there. A couple of my favorites are Sauvie Island and Larch Mountain. Sauvie Island isn’t really an island per se but rather an isthmus at the confluence of the Willamette and Columbia River’s.  It’s a very flat, scenic ride with lots of farms. Because a lot of cyclists frequent Sauvie Island the motorists tend to be courteous which makes for an enjoyable riding experience. Larch Mountain, that’s another story altogether. Larch is a grinder with nearly four thousand feet of climbing over twenty three miles to the top. This is followed by a twenty three mile descent at breathtaking speeds for those that enjoy that kind of thing which I do. A couple of weeks ago I was descending at near fifty miles per hour at one point. It usually takes me about two and a half hours to get to the top and about forty five minutes to get back to Troutdale.

Click on the image to learn more

One of the things I’m working on is getting the word out about Road ID. Road ID is a personalized wrist band that contains information to help first responders in the event of an accident. There’s an online Emergency Response Profile (ERP) that contains information about contacts, allergies, health insurance and other data relevant to treating an accident victim. I don’t ride without my Road ID and now realize I should have had one last year. Just the other day I was riding out in rural Clark County and a guy in a pickup truck blew by me at 70MPH about two feet off my left shoulder. Either he wasn’t paying attention or simply didn’t care. In any case I was happy to be wearing my Road ID. Click on the image above to get more information about this important piece of gear.

Me in Raeford, North Carolina near the end of the journey

My daughter Jennifer was waiting at the airport on Monday night and smiling broadly. We embraced for a long moment and she stated flatly – “I knew you’d do it, I told everyone you’d do it.” When I last saw Jen in Astoria I wasn’t as sure as her. I had no idea when I clipped in and started peddling in the streets of Astoria toward parts unknown that day what lay ahead. I knew it would be challenging, but had no clue about the great adventure in front of me. It surpassed my expectations by a country mile. And made every other adventure I’ve been on in life pale in comparison. Except for being a parent. Now that’s excitement.

Final Tale Of The Tape:

Total miles peddled:      4,022.42. Half on the TransAm Trail and the other half finding my own way.

Total revolutions of my 26” wheel:      3,120,178

Total riding days:     89

Total rest days:     57  (okay, I like to sightsee)

Average miles per riding day:     45.20

Weight loss:     Started at 170lbs plus and finished at 146lbs.

Total climbing:     120,000+ thousand feet, 24 miles of climbing.

Flat tires:    3 flats – one front tire, one rear tire and one on my trailer. Better living through Kevlar….and good quality rim tape.

Major mechanical issues:     None, zero, nada. I love my Surley Long Haul Trucker.

Brakes:      Two sets, one in Missoula, Montana and the other in Pueblo, Colorado. After that got a little braver on the descents.

Broken spokes:      None

Tires:      One set. My Vittoria’s made it all the way, worn out but they made it.

Fastest descent:       51.4 mile per hour on a two mile stretch of 7% grade in the Smoky Mountains.

Close calls:      A couple dozen. Six really close and two very, very close on the same day in Kentucky.

Dog attacks:      100+

This week I started re-assembling my life. Got my car out of storage and the battery was so dead it took an hour and a half to get it jump started. Promptly went to Wal-Mart and purchased a new one. Moved back to the same complex I was living at before I left and began to settle in. Thursday night I slept in my own bed on my own sheets for the first time in months. It felt great to be sleeping in sheets that are over fifty thread count or a sleeping bag. Thursday evening I was greeted warmly by my colleagues at a Share board meeting and had a chance to talk a little about the journey. Yesterday I helped my Jennifer move to a new place.

Not a moment goes by when I am not reflecting back over these last months. The individual moments that made it an adventure. Whether it was standing fifty feet away from a grizzly bear in Yellowstone or talking to a new friend in some roadside café this last four months will forever be with me.  I wasn’t a few months ago but I am now a bicyclist.

There are a few people I want to thank. First, my dad. He’s always been an inspiration to me as a risk taker. Always encouraging and never, not once in my life did he say – “you can’t do that.” He wasn’t always the biggest or fastest athlete but taught me that that doesn’t matter. It’s a man’s heart that propels him to greater and greater heights. If there’s one person that I have to single out as the major influence on my life as an athlete and a man it’s my dad. Second, my brother Mark. He may be my little brother but he’s larger than life to me. As a retired Green Beret who served in war I know him to be a soldier’s soldier and a man’s man. He is one my hero’s and someone who I deeply respect. I look at him in awe for putting his life on the line and doing the things he has. My best friend and business partner Scott who lives in Tampa. He has always been an encouragement to me. We’re launching a new business venture in the health and wellness industry and I’m looking forward to making it a success with him.  My children Jennifer and Stephen. I thought about them nearly every moment of the last few months. Jennifer was so matter of fact when she told me I’d make it. Perhaps she knows me better than I know myself because I did have my doubts. When I told her one of my ideas the other night while she was doing laundry at my place, something even my audacious, she simply said – “sure you can.” To my many friends who emailed me with words of encouragement. Thank you and thank you again.

What’s next? I’ll be focusing on business for awhile and getting that launched. And looking at how to can contribute more to Share and the challenges we face here in Vancouver with the homeless and hungry. Already however, I am beginning to dream about the next great adventure. I am after all my father’s son and the apple doesn’t fall from the tree. Someone asked the other night at the board meeting what the one takeaway is from the journey. I’d have to say that what I’ve discovered is that each of us is endowed with the capacity to fulfill our dreams whatever they are. That each of us has a reservoir of strength that can be tapped into whenever we need it and for whatever reason. In order to be successful, whether personally or professionally, we all must look at life through the prism of possibilities and not the lens of limitations. I’ve grown closer to God and look at the world, at life in a different way now.

For those of you who have seen the movie “Cast Away” with Tom Hanks the final scene has the protagonist, Chuck Noland out in the middle of nowhere at the confluence of four rural roads. Now, Chuck has endured a lot in the previous five years after being shipwrecked on that remote Pacific island. After being advised by a woman whose FedEx package he had just delivered that this road leads here and that road leads there he looks down each one and the last thing we see is Chuck with a big smile. I have often wondered what he was thinking at that precise moment. Until now. I know exactly what Chuck Noland was thinking because I’ve stood at that same junction. In the end it doesn’t really matter that life sometimes (inevitably) leads us all down unexpected roads.  We can endure most anything that life throws at us and in the end we must, each in our own way, find those qualities in ourselves that enable us to achieve our goals. I invite you all to take the potential energy of your dreams and convert them into the kinetic energy of action. Look at your life through the prism of possibilities and not the lens of limitations. You’ll be amazed at what will happen when you do that. I have learned the truth in one of Goethe’s couplets: “Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.” Begin it now.

Crossing the Mississippi River between Missouri and Illinois

Once I crossed into Illinois I only spent a couple of days there before crossing the Ohio River into Kentucky. This is where it got kind of interesting. I had no idea where I was going and ended up in a part of the state that was, um, rural. It felt kind of like I was on the set of Deliverance. The roads were narrow to say the least and the dogs were plentiful. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve been on roads that are so far off the beaten track and had so many dog attacks you wouldn’t believe it. I took to wearing pepper spray on my wrist in case one got too close. I haven’t had to use it yet but have come close a few times. These things come barreling out on the road and all one can do is get out of the saddle, drop a gear and sprint. And hopefully outrun them. I’m a high cadence rider meaning I turn the crank about eighty five or ninety times a minute but when the dogs start running at me I turn that up a couple of notches. I’ve been reluctant to use my spray because I’ve heard the owners will climb in their vee-hicles and chase you down and beat the tar out of you.

I made a decision a couple of days ago to change my destination. Since I’m way off the trail already and practicing my land navigation skills I’ve decided to get across Kentucky and head slightly south to my brothers place in North Carolina. He and my sister in law live about eighty miles from Wilmington on the Atlantic Ocean. So, I’ll get to their place, drop off my trailer and beat feet to the Atlantic Ocean. It isn’t officially the TransAmerica Trail but the way I’ve been pedaling that cow is out of the barn already. I’ll have done the Pacific to the Atlantic and well over forty two hundred miles which is perfectly satisfying. And there’s something to be said for doing the last third of the journey navigating on my own.

I’ll be flying home in late September or early October. This journey has been hugely satisfying for me personally. A challenge to be sure and at times it has been arduous. From a personal perspective it has exceeded my dreams and expectations. Where it has fallen short is that I haven’t met my objective of raising money and awareness about homelessness and hunger on the scale I’d hoped. That’s my fault. I really had no clue what I was getting myself into. Basically I was a pudgy middle aged man so ignorant about bicycles and cycling that it took me the better part of two months just to get a handle on the whole cycling thing and into some semblance of physical shape. As it turns out the muscles used to propel myself out of my recliner to get a beer out the refrigerator are different than the ones required to pedal myself and sixty pounds of gear over a ten thousand foot mountain pass. Where I was a shade over one hundred and seventy pounds when I left now I am right at a buck forty now. The other days I pulled my jeans out of my bag which I haven’t tried on in a couple of months and they fell off when I put them on. It was comical. I’ll have to buy new pants when I get home.

Because I haven’t met one of my primary objectives – I wish I could have a do-over – I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and believe I have an idea on how I can do just that. I’m in the process of developing a business plan to do something next year that will be a little bolder and fulfill the promise of bringing awareness about homelessness and hunger. And raising some money. I’ll be piping that plan to a few people to evaluate before making a formal announcement. Suffice to say it has the potential of making quite a splash.

As I’ve pedaled across the heartland of America I’ve often found myself in towns and cities that are enduring great economic hardship. Believe me when I tell you, middle America is in real trouble. In much of the country they aren’t just in recession or even depression. Small town America is withering on the vine. I routinely go through towns where many or most of the businesses on Main Street are shuttered. Services are no longer being delivered and decay is prevalent. News organizations don’t cover this at all. Honestly, I had no clue. And it’s been going on for years. When I talk to people in these towns they tell me that their towns have been drying up for years. It’s been sobering to see that middle America doesn’t look like Mayberry as I once imagined.

One early morning in Kansas I rode past this inspirational hillside

That all being said…I AM OKAY. Presently I am in eastern Missouri, specifically the little town of Winona. Winona, as in one of the Judd’s. Let me catch you up on where I’ve been and what I’m doing. After leaving my dad in Pueblo Colorado I went through Kansas. And it was miserable. They are having a very hot and humid summer so riding a bicycle was not a pleasant experience. Flat? Yes. No hills whatsoever. Going from riding  in the Rocky Mountains to the plains was….boring. The heat and humidity was so oppressive that I ended up riding much of at night. I’d get up at 3:30am or so and ride for a few hours in the dark and (relative) cool high 70’s. I have a head lamp and a light on my bike which I’d turn on and get a few miles under my belt by the time the sun came up. Once that happened it didn’t take long for the heat index to climb to well over 100 degrees. Kind of like riding in a combination Easy Bake Oven and Native American sweat lodge. I will never, NEVER make fun of my folks again when they tell me about the dry heat of Arizona. As it turns out there is a difference between 100 degrees and 10 percent humidity and 100 degrees and 80 percent humidity. And boy, let me tell you that pedaling past a cattle feed lot when it is 107 is quite the experience. The ammonia fumes are, um, strong. One whiff of that is like getting punched by Muhammad Ali.

In middle of Kansas I stayed at a hostel in an athletic club where they had a scale. At that point in time I was down to 144 pounds which means I’ve lost well over 25 pounds since I left home. And I eat like a horse. Cycling really does indeed burn the calories.

Kansas was really one long non descript town after another. I’m sure it’s lovely during the spring and fall but the summer is just horrible and all I wanted to do was get through it. Missouri on the other hand is nice. Rolling hills and even though it’s hot I’ve enjoyed myself far more here. I couple of days ago I stopped in Cabool where I spent the day with some family members of my sister-in-laws. Had a great time with them. Ron and I went ATV’ing in the Mark Twain National Forest which is gorgeous. Lots of natural springs and swimming holes.

I’ve deviated from the TransAm Trail a bit to make up a little time. I’ll be in Missouri for another 3 days or so and then cross into southern Illinois. I’ll only be there for a day or so before crossing into Kentucky. To date I’ve pedaled 2,928.90 miles. I have about 1,100 miles to go and hope to make it to Yorktown on or about September 22^nd. I had my first two flats a few days ago which is amazing. To go nearly 3,000 miles without a flat was pretty remarkable. I had a flat on my trailer and one on my bike. The one on my trailer happened about a half mile from my destination one day. My equipment is beginning to wear a little. That’s to be expected, things do take a beating.

You can expect more frequent updates now that my laptop is fixed. For those that were worried because you hadn’t heard from me, again, I apologize.

I’m sitting in the Barrel Springs Hunt Club in Horace, Kansas. Today I bid adieu to Colorado and for the next five hundred miles will be in Kansas. After leaving Kremmling, Colorado I headed to Frisco which is a nice little town near Breckenridge. I’d met the President of Bighorn Rentals the second day I was on the riding on the Oregon coast. He told me to contact him when I got to Colorado and he’d comp me a room. I wrote John Forrest a few days before heading to Frisco and as promised had a nice room waiting for me. I spent took an off day in Frisco which allowed me to explore the area. Also to eat some mighty fine food that was unavailable for the last couple of months. Ahi, polenta and all kinds of good stuff. I reckon that in most of the towns I’ve cycled through if I mentioned polenta someone would say guzentheit.

Had this place all to myself one night in Kansas

What was great about the stretch between Silverthorne and Breckenridge is that there is a great bike trail which allows cyclists to ride off the highway. It’s probably the best bike path I’ve ever been on. After Frisco it was a quick hop up to Breckenridge where I stayed at the Fireside Inn, a B&B/hostel run by a couple of British ex-pats. Very nice place. Breckenridge was a little touristy for me. I have grown used to slightly less affluent towns and Breckenridge is a place where the moneyed people go. Felt a little out of place.

After leaving Breckenridge I climbed to the highest pass on the TransAm Trail – Hoosier Pass at 11,542 feet. Admittedly there was some trepidation on my part when I knew that was coming. As it turns out however it wasn’t as hard a climb as I thought. The last couple of miles were a little grueling but mostly from the altitude.  The descent from Hoosier Pass was pretty thrilling. I’ve gained a lot more confidence going downhill and for the most part let my bike run. It’s a thrill to be going at 40MPH downhill.

Guffy, Colorado

I’m not sure I can properly articulate what kind of place Guffy, Colorado is. Eclectic would be an understatement. It’s a bit off the road but I’d heard about it from other cyclists so decided to put in there following my trip from Breckenridge. There’s a climb into town and by the time I pulled in I was pretty pooped. I made my way to the garage where I was greeted by Bill and Charley. As far as I can discern Bill sort of runs the town. He owns a bunch of rustic cabins, a bunkhouse and the town museum slash city hall. When I pulled up Charley handed me a beer and after quickly quaffing it down another. I’ve done a lot of traveling in my life – five continents and twenty eight countries – and nothing compares to Guffy. It’s the most interesting town I’ve been in since leaving Astoria. Bill has so much stuff laying about his garage that it boggles the mind. Old cars, old trucks, all manner of collectible. Not to mention the statues made of the skeletons of animals. The town mayor is a cat named Monster. Each July 4^th they hold their annual Chicken Fly. What’s that you ask? Well, what they do is set up a launching pad behind the museum. On the launch pad there’s a felt lined mailbox where they stick chickens. Then people take turns pushing them out of the mailbox with a toilet plunger. The record is 138 feet which happened several years ago. Bill was pretty disappointed because this year he bought some chickens from England in effort to break the record. Three of the fine birds went 135 feet but not a one exceeded the record.

(Note: for you PETA types I was advised that no chicken has ever been harmed)

After Guffy I met up with my dad and we headed to Canon City. Or should I say he met up with me. In any case we found each other a few miles from Guffy and after lightening my load by transferring some of my stuff to his Jeep we headed to Canon City. We spent a couple of days in Canon City where we played tourist and went to the Royal Gorge Bridge which hangs 956 feet above the Arkansas River. So high that BASE jumpers use it to parachute from. We took the Royal Gorge Rail up into the gorge as well. After Canon City we went to Pueblo, Colorado which was nothing like I’d expected. Pueblo was actually quite the steel town earlier last century. It was kind of the Pittsburgh of the west. The local steel industry had 20,000 people on the payroll at one time. The mill still operates and mostly it puts out a lot of rail these days. It was good to spend some time with my pop.

Leaving Colorado

I left Pueblo on Saturday and made my way to Ordway, Colorado. There’s a great hostel there and after leaving my pop made my way there and was in town by 11:00am which gave me most of the day to enjoy the town fair. Yesterday I went to Eads, Colorado. I won’t go into specifics but if I never visit Eads again it will be too soon. The place I stayed was pretty bad but it was the only place in town. And I didn’t want to camp because of the oppressive heat and humidity. Today I was up at dawn and on the road early to beat the heat. At this moment I’m sitting at the Barrel Springs Hunt Club in Horace, Kansas about fourteen miles from the Colorado and Kansas border. A hunt club? Yes a hunt club. Pheasant hunting is a big thing here and the club has people coming in from all over to hunt on their nearly 6,000 acres. I have the place to myself. 24 rooms and a big great room, air conditioning, big screen T.V. and Wi-Fi. One of the owners, Shari, took me into town (Tribune) today to buy some food for tonight. They don’t have a restaurant but they do have a huge kitchen for the hunting parties. It’s one of the nicer places I’ve stayed the last couple of months.

And now I will be in Kansas for the next five hundred miles or so. Since leaving Pueblo I have been in pretty hot weather. The only saving grace is the fact that for the most part the roads are flatter than a pancake. The scenery is pretty unimpressive after the beauty of the Rocky Mountains and the west. Nothing but nothing for as far as the eye can see. Boring really. It is hot and humid. Where before I was in no hurry each day to get on the road I am now in a mode where I’m up and riding at dawn so that I can get to where I want to be by midday. Towns and services are few and far between so I have to do a bit more planning and carry a lot more fluids and food. I’m going to build up my mileage over the next week or so to 75-80 miles a day so that I can get across Kansas and Missouri.

I have made my way down the Rocky Mountains and am now in Kremmling Colorado. As always, it’s been an adventure the last week and a half. In Lander I made the mistake of eating at a Thai restaurant and got sick as a dog. I lost weight I couldn’t afford to lose and had to take a couple of days off. Not a pleasant experience.

Riverside, Wyoming

RollingAcrossAmerica factoid: My wheels have turned 1,449,336 revolutions since leaving Astoria over 1,868 miles.

Between Lander and Rawlins Wyoming there is 120 miles of nothing. My plan leaving Lander was to make the halfway point which is Jeffrey City and camp for the night. Well, I didn’t quite make it. It was very hot, mid 90’s and I had a bit of a climb out of Lander. I was pretty dehydrated from my ‘Thai’ experience and bonked in a major way after 45 miles. What is bonking? It’s when the glycogen our muscles use is totally depleted and they no longer function. I got to this wide spot in the road called Sweetwater Station and camped at the Mormon Handcart Historical Site. I’d read that they allowed camping there and took them up on their offer. It was really interesting. About 200 LDS were gathered at the site for a retreat and I was permitted to pitch my tent on the grounds. Since my original intention was to make it to Jeffrey City I had very little food. I was fed dinner and breakfast the next morning which was very nice. Good group of people who were very interested in what I was doing and why.

After leaving Sweetwater Station I was still pretty spent from my few days of being sick. I made it to Muddy Gap but just barely. For the first time in many years athletically I had no more gas in the tank. Nada, zero. The last 10 miles into Muddy Gap was excruciating and I knew that there was no way I could make the last 45 miles into Rawlins. I sat outside the gas station drinking a 44 ounce 7-Up pondering what to do since between Muddy Gap and Rawlins there isn’t a thing. I decided to do something I normally wouldn’t do and hitchhike into Rawlins. A young guy pulled up in a pickup truck and I asked him if he was going into Rawlins and he said no, he was heading to Casper which is in the opposite direction. I got out on the highway and tried to ride a bit but after about 20 yards figured out that 45 miles was totally out of the question. So, parked my bike and waited. After about 15 minutes I saw a pickup truck heading my way and stuck out my thumb. The guy who was heading to Casper decided to turn around and come back. Turns out he was just home from Iraq and told me that at some point in time when he needed help he hoped someone would return the favor. We loaded my bike and trailer into his truck and he drove me to Rawlins. A lifesaver to be sure. There was no way I’d have made it to Rawlins that day. The best I could have done is pitch my tent on BLM land and wait to recover a bit. Better to live and fight another day.

RollingAcrossAmerica factoid: By the time I reach Pueblo Colorado I will have done 88,000 feet of climbing since leaving Astoria. That’s nearly 17 miles or the equivalent of climbing Mt. Everest 3 times from sea level. I got this little fact from Alan and Chris who I met a few weeks ago. They have a GPS which records those statistics.

Spent one day in Rawlins recovering and eating like a horse to replenish my reserves then set out for the run south to Canon City Colorado. I made it to Saratoga the first day, a ride of 45 miles. Following Saratoga I took a short day and went to Riverside Wyoming and stayed in a rustic cabin at the Riverside Garage. On Tuesday this week I made my way to Walden Colorado bucking some pretty good headwinds. What amazed me the most was the flies. I don’t know for sure but I think they are horse flies, nearly as big as a California condor. And it doesn’t matter how fast the wind is blowing or how fast one is riding the darn things swarm all around you. When they land on you they latch on and boy, they sting. I was constantly swatting them off me. The stupid things can even latch on through riding gloves and shorts.

RollingAcrossAmerica factoid: I left Astoria weighing 175 pounds, the heaviest I’ve ever weighed and certainly the least fit. I now weigh 160. And I eat well over 5,000 calories a day!

Yesterday I made my way from Walden to Kremmling Colorado, some 62 miles over a pass near Steamboat Springs. I rode for about two hours in a violent rainstorm with lots of lightning and thunder. The temperature dropped to a point where I was shivering because I was soaked to the bone. Needless to say I was glad to get into town, dry out and warm up. Today I’m taking a day off and will head to Frisco Colorado tomorrow. I’ve been offered a place to stay tomorrow evening. For the next few days I’ll be climbing up to the highest point on the TransAm Trail, Hoosier Pass at 11,582 feet. After I cross the pass I will then head down to Canon City Colorado where I’ll connect with my pop. It’s a 5,000 foot drop down to Canon City from Breckenridge so I’ll get a chance to practice my descending skills. We’ll spend a couple of days in Canon City and a couple in Pueblo before I head out into the flat states. I know it’s going to be hot everyday out in Eastern Colorado, Kansas and Missouri. I’ll be packing extra water and fluids.

The Continental Divide at nearly 12,000 feet

I’ve covered some 1,562 miles now (see trip log for details) and over the last four days I’ve crossed the Continental Divide four times. There’s been a fair amount of climbing including the second highest pass on the TransAmerica Trail – Togwotee Pass at 9,658 feet with 2,700 feet of climb. Did that the day before yesterday and it was really something. The only break I got was a four mile stretch under construction when I had to load my rig into a pilot truck because they couldn’t permit cyclists to ride through the construction zone. One of these days I’m going to sit down and calculate how many vertical feet I’ve climbed over this journey. I suspect it’s a big number. The good news is that for the most part I’m peddling instead of walking these days. When I first started I was intimidated by the hills on the Oregon Coast and now they look like speed bumps compared to what I am doing these days.

When I last wrote I’d encountered a herd of cattle outside of Jackson. A lot has happened in the meantime. Most notably I went through Yellowstone which was impressive. Really beautiful country. Mind boggling actually. I spend a couple of days in West Yellowstone which is the west entrance to the park. Nice little town but very touristy which I suppose is to be expected. And wow, pricey. Anyone visiting can expect to pay highly inflated prices for just about everything. Last Wednesday I entered the park and made my way to Grant Village. What I was totally unprepared for was the amount of traffic. I’m talking hundreds of cars. I ran into several traffic jams with people gawking at the wildlife that inhabits the park. It’s amazing how a single moose can bring progress to a screeching halt.

A couple of guys are asleep in their tent when they are startled by a bear rummaging around their camp. One guy calmly climbs out of his sleeping bag and begins to put on his running shoes. “What are you doing?!” his friend asked. “You’ll never outrun a bear!” The guy putting on his shoes looked at his friend straight in the eye and said, “I don’t have to outrun the bear, I just have to outrun you.”

So Wednesday I made my way from West Yellowstone to Grant Village and camped out. Upon arriving I was informed that a grizzly bear had been spotted in the camp a couple of hours earlier and that it was important to put everything in the steel bear boxes at each campsite. By everything I mean any and everything that gives off a scent – cosmetics, food, Chapstick, sunscreen, even water bottles.  Needless to say I complied. In the middle of the night I was awakened to the sound of wolves making quite a racket. Either they were in the process of securing dinner or maybe they were getting into someone’s 12 pack of Keystone Lite. My camp partner, another cyclist and I both agreed the next morning that they were pretty close by.

After leaving Yellowstone I found my way to a little wide spot in the road called Moran and stayed in a rustic cabin. Gave me a chance to catch up on laundry and some bike maintenance. Knock on wood my bike is really doing well with no mechanical issues so far save for some minor adjustments. Thursday night I was having a little insomnia so got up and went outside. The sky was awash in stars. It was pretty spectacular. A moonless night with no ambient light from city lights allowed every celestial body to shine bright. I saw several satellites go by which is something we don’t see much at home because of the cloudy skies. It was really something to behold.

I’m seeing a lot of cyclists these days and have ridden with several now for at least some distance. It’s really interesting to hear everyone’s story and why they are doing it. They cover every socio-economic status and age. Some are going fast and some are going at a more leisurely pace.  I’ve met people in their early 20’s all the way up to their 70’s. There have been groups of people and solo riders. Some are doing it just because and some are doing it for a cause.

I had a little scary incident last week which woke me up. I was riding to Sheridan and was just outside of Twin Bridges Montana when I was run off the road by a truck. Most people swing wide when they see a cyclist or slow down. And especially on straight stretches where they can see that there is no oncoming traffic. I was on a stretch of road with very little shoulder and was pretty much hugging the line. A truck comes along doing about 70MPH not three feet off my left shoulder and blew me off the road into the weeds. I kept upright but it sure was a scary moment.  There wasn’t another vehicle in sight so he could have easily swung out half a lane or so. I clearly articulated to him that he was number one on my dance card. It’s almost certain that I won’t be using Mayflower Moving & Storage anytime soon.

Here in this part of the world they engineer their roads with a little something called rumble strips. Now what these are is these massive grooves carved perpendicular into the shoulder of the road. These are used I believe to alert drivers that doze off and wander off the road. I can tell you that as a cyclist these doggone things are designed to separate your brain from your spine or rattle the fillings out of your teeth. It doesn’t matter how fast you roll over them they will shake you up. I talked to one guy who broke a couple of spokes going over them.

Tomorrow I’ll start the last couple of days to get to Rawlins. My dad is going to meet me in Canon City Colorado on the 27^th so I have plenty of time to get there, only 476 miles to go and over two weeks. We’re going to do a little male bonding, spend a couple of days in Canon City and then a couple in Pueblo. At that point in time I’ll be half way to getting across the country and heading across the flat states.

Yeah, sure. Cows on the road.

As I said, I’ve made Dillon Montana since I last wrote from Missoula. After I left Missoula I went to the town of Hamilton which was a great experience. I stayed with a couple who open their home to cyclists and had my first home cooked meals in over a month. They do so because their son did the TransAm last year and was the recipient of so much hospitality that they decided to return the favor to others. Now, Hamilton is a nice town typical of Montana except for one thing. Just down the street from Carl and Terry is the Rocky Mountain Laboratory. Sounds pretty benign right? Yeah, it’s anything but. What this building houses is a Biohazard Level 4 facility. This includes such bugs as Ebola, Marburg, Dengue and few hemorrhagic fever viruses. The kind of stuff that horror movies are made about with nearly a 100% mortality rate. When the government wanted to build it the town folk weren’t so hip to the idea but they didn’t win the battle.

From Hamilton I went to Darby which is a quaint little town that looks like a movie set. I stayed in a cabin and just ambled around town. On Monday I made the nearly 60 mile trek to Wisdom over the Chief Joseph pass at 7,200 feet. It was a grind but not too bad. This whole area is Nez Perce country. Chief Joseph is revered for how he stood up to the white man and refused to be put on a reservation. Even today his strategies are studied at West Point and other military colleges. When I was a few miles outside of Wisdom and entering ‘The Big Hole’ I was attacked by what I am calling the Montana Air Force. Mosquitoes. Trillions of them. And nobody warned me in advance. The Big Hole is this valley that is literally thousands of square miles of some of the most pristine ranching country you’ve ever seen. What they do is irrigate it by flooding much of it to grow alfalfa. It becomes a breeding ground for the little critters until the grass is cut in August. I was covered with them even after spraying on a copious amount of DEET.

Yesterday I made my way from Wisdom to Jackson which is a wide spot in the road. It’s renowned for its hot springs lodge which was why I stopped. They were discovered by Lewis and Clark and are incredible. The lodge is pretty nice for anyone who happens to be in that neck of the woods. Today I made it to Dillon over a couple of 7,000 foot passes. Just as I was rolling in the heavens opened and it started pouring and hailing. I’m growing accustomed to the afternoon thunderstorms that seem to be a common occurrence here in big sky country. It’s amazing really. One minute it will be sunny and the next there’s lightning and thunder. I was told yesterday that just last week they had eight inches of snow in Jackson which would have made cycling fun.

Tomorrow I’ll amble on to Twin Bridges which has a great cyclist’s camp from what I’m told. Then on to Ennis on Friday and Saturday I’ll be in West Yellowstone. I have reservations at the hostel for three days where I’ll park my bike and do some touring around the park by bus. Let someone else do the driving for a change. As of today I’ve covered 1,182 miles and nearly 28% of the TransAmerica Trail. So far I am most impressed with Montana. It’s simply incredible country here. There’s a reason it’s called Big Sky Country because that’s exactly what it is. Big, expansive and beautiful. At times it seems like I can see a hundred miles.

Taking a break in Lolo, Montana on the way into Missoula

Wednesday was a 66 mile ride from Lowell to Powell paralleling the Lochsa River. Slightly uphill the entire way but not really all that difficult. It’s rafting season on the rivers up this way and saw a ton of them as well as kayakers. Riding alongside the river I recalled that great film, “A River Runs Through It”. It was much like that for most of trip. Wednesday night I stayed at the Lochsa Lodge in one of their rustic cabins which just a bed and no indoor plumbing which is fine with me. Had dinner with a couple of guys and one of them showed me a photo he’d taken just that day of a moose in the middle of the road. Were it not for a car going by he thought for sure the critter was going to charge him because of the stink eye it was giving him. There’s a lot of wildlife up here – bear (brown and grizzly), elk (which makes for a fine burger by the way), moose, cougar, mountain lion and wolves. I’m told the wolves are very aggressive transplants from Canada. And by aggressive I mean they aren’t afraid of anything. And they are a lot larger than the native wolves that used to inhabit this area. What that means is that I’ll be camping with others as I make my way through Montana and Wyoming. I have pepper spray with me but I’m afraid that will just irritate them.

Yesterday I made it from Powell to Missoula over the Lolo Pass. It was a relatively good climb and then all downhill into Missoula for 40 miles. I’m getting better at my descents and not riding the brakes as much as I did when I set out a few weeks ago. Yesterday at one point I was cruising along at nearly 30MPH which on a bicycle is breathtaking when you aren’t used to it. Today I’m taking a day off and having some work done on my bike. Since Missoula is the headquarters for the Adventure Cycling Association there are a lot of bike shops in town. I pretty much toasted my brakes early on so having a new set of pads put on.

My next major milestone is West Yellowstone, some 329 miles southeast of Missoula. There’s one major pass of nearly 8,000 feet but after that it’s pretty flat until I get to Yellowstone. I’ve found a hotel/hostel there where I’ll spend a couple of days. I want to see a bit of the park while I’m there.

Me with a couple of Brits on the road in Oregon

I ended up spending a couple of days in Halfway. Its claim to fame is that the movie “Paint Your Wagon” was filmed there. Some of you more mature folk will recall that it starred Lee Marvin and Clint Eastwood with Clint having his one and only singing role. What I found out from the locals is that Lee Marvin was quite the party animal and Clint not so much. Lee would go to the Stockmen’s where I stayed and have a few cocktails each day after filming. Sometimes more than a few. From what I was told this was pretty much and an everyday occurrence. The other thing that the town is known for is being the home of Babette March, the first cover girl for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue way back in 1964. She owns a little lodge in town with her husband.

After a couple of days in Halfway I made my way to Cambridge, Idaho which is basically a sleepy little town. It was a long day so didn’t do a whole lot except refuel and sleep. The following day I went to New Meadows which was pretty much all downhill through some gorgeous landscapes. And then on to Riggins. Riggins of course is on the mighty Salmon River which is spectacular. As I was riding into town there was a bunch of people fishing the river. As I was riding into town a guy pulled a huge salmon out that was half as big as me. Amazing. I was told that salmon go for about $50 each and there’s a two fish limit per day. The native American’s smoke the fish they catch and sell it on the side of the road.

Yesterday I made my way some 45 miles from Riggins to Grangeville which is the county seat and a fairly good sized town. It was no piece of cake. There’s a 2,900 foot climb out of the town of White Bird to White Bird Summit and it was steep and long, about ten miles of climbing on a 7% grade. Even cars and trucks labor to make it up. I made it about half way up and just about gave up the ghost. After resting for a half and hour or so I made my way to the summit and was thrilled. It didn’t help that my rear derailleur wouldn’t shift into the lowest gear so alternated between walking and peddling. This morning I found a bike mechanic that helped me get all my gears working and now I shouldn’t have to work so hard on the steeper climbs.

Looking forward I have what promises to be a beautiful stretch into Missoula. I’ll be going over the Lolo Pass on highway 12 for those keeping score at home. I’m told it’s some lovely country. I did hear that the road is very narrow and some of the truckers aren’t fond of the cyclists. Lots of twists and turns with almost no shoulder so you have to drive defensively.

My plans call for me to make Pueblo by July 28^th or 29^th and meet my dad there. Should be doable even taking a little time off along the way to enjoy Yellowstone. We’ll spend a few days together and I’ll get my biked tuned up for the long flat grind across the plains during August when it’s hot and humid.

To date I’ve peddled some 814 miles and am averaging just over 40 miles per riding day. One thing I was not prepared for, something nobody told me about was the weird tan lines. When wearing cycling garb you get tanned in a very odd pattern. From mid thigh down I’m bronze and my arms too. My finger tips are tanned but the middle of my hands are white because of the cycling gloves. Very strange.

I hope this finds everyone well. I probably won’t have internet access until I get to Missoula so the next installment will probably be from Montana, Big Sky Country.

I couldn't agree more

This is day 24 and I’m sitting in the Stockman listening to a rather surreal conversation amongst the locals ranging from the brown trout in the local lakes to national politics. Suffice to say Barack Obama would probably not be welcome here. A local gent just gave one of his friends a birthday present, a Bowie knife with an eight inch blade. Good for gutting that next deer. A man named Cash is singing a song about a boy named Sue. Some young buck is celebrating his 21^st birthday drinking Jim Beam while I ponder the fact that I have a son older than him. Where has the time gone?

Tomorrow I finally get out of Oregon, seventeen more miles to go and I’ll be in Idaho. Nearly 650 miles on the yellow brick road in the land of Ducks and Beavers. I’ll make Cambridge, no, not the university in England but the town in Idaho. As it turns out this has been one of the wettest springs on record. Roads and bridges have been washed out and flooded. Just last week the water was pretty deep in Richland, a town I rode through yesterday. If I’d come through here a week ago it’s likely I would have been delayed a couple of days.

I met a guy named Eric in Baker City the day before yesterday. Soon to be grad student, he’s from So Cal so we had a lot to talk about. We had dinner and a beer at the local brew pub. He got a late start yesterday and caught up with me in Richland. We made it up the pass together, me walking some of the time while he motored up. Damn, to be young again! It was really windy in places yesterday and coming from the side to boot. With my trailer there’s a lot of sail area and I get blown about to and fro. It can be a little frustrating at times. Going through the canyon with a slight downhill the wind shifted to my back and I was making some pretty good speed. The road was the narrowest I’ve been on with almost, strike that, absolutely no shoulder in places.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last few days. Seems to me that this is the opportunity of a lifetime. Why rush it? Some people who do this ride six days a week and ten hours a day. And why? I mean, how do you enjoy, really enjoy the experience? I’ve taken a few days off this first three weeks but don’t regret it a bit. Yes, part of that is because I wasn’t exactly Lance Armstrong when I started but a big part of is that I am really enjoying the experience. When I roll into some of these towns they turn out to be so much more than I thought they’d be. The people are interesting and interested. I have found that most folk are really interested in what I am doing for Share and ask a lot of questions. I think I’m going to take my time getting back east and savor the whole experience. I’m starting to work on my book. The working title is – Spokes: America, One Revolution At A Time. I’ll put some excerpts on my blog in the next couple of weeks for those who are interested. It isn’t going to be written in a linear fashion about this journey only but more essays on life, faith and politics. And yes, this little jaunt across the U.S. of A.

Me up on the Ochoco Pass heading to Mitchell, Oregon

I spent a couple of days at The Oregon Hotel in Mitchell. It’s a restored historic hotel run by some really nice people. I stayed in the hostel for $15 a night but had he entire place to my own. Mitchell is a sleepy little town, very quaint. Then again, I’m seeing quite a few of those on this journey. And the people, my, what a treat. Some of them are real characters. In a way I feel like I’m in a living documentary film about small town Americana. Let me give you an example. Yesterday I was riding to John Day and stopped in Dayville (yes, that is a real town in Oregon) at the country store to get a bite to eat. The owner, Don Jones, proceeds to give me a history of the store from when it was built in 1894. And tells me about ‘Bill’, the resident ghost who haunts the place. Now Bill is a small man, maybe 5 foot or so. He wears a white hat and doesn’t smile much. Don has seen him twice and tenants of the apartment behind the place many times. From time to time music and the sound of dancing can be heard from upstairs where the dance hall and saloon used to be. When you are driving 26 stop by and talk to Don, I’m sure he’ll regale you with the story.

I’ve come just short of 500 miles since starting. In a couple of days I’ll be in Baker City and start making my way north to Idaho. I haven’t run into any cyclists in a couple of days but as I get further east I’m sure I will. So far it is everything I didn’t expect it would be. A lot more physically demanding for sure. At times I’ve had to dig deep to find the strength to pedal another stroke. The mountains are a killer. At times the grades are so steep I end up walking my bike and trailer (that blasted trailer!) for awhile. God keeps me going at times when I can’t go any longer. I had no idea just how out of shape I was when I left. After two and a half weeks however I am finding my stride. Which is good because I have nothing but mountains for the next 1,500 miles.

On Sunday I made it from Blue River to Clear Lake only to find out that they were completely full what with the holiday weekend. I ended up going up the road a piece to a wide spot in the road called Fish Lake. I was exhausted from my first real test in the mountains and pitched my tent on the side of the road. It was a very primitive campground to say the least. As in, nothing there. I was asleep by 7:30 and it started to rain. My tent become like a native American sweat lodge because I didn’t have the rain fly on properly. By Monday morning at 6am I was ready to go. I pretty much threw everything into my trailer soaking wet and set out for the Santiam Pass. It was pouring rain and the road had very little shoulder. There is still quite a bit of gravel from the snow season on the shoulders so it was bumpy. And steep. You can’t imagine how nice it was to see that sign – Santiam Pass, Elevation 4,817 Feet. You’d have thought I had just ascended the Alp d’Huez at the Tour de France the way I celebrated. And then…….descent. Six scary miles of what seemed like breakneck speeds. I was pumping my brakes the entire way down to keep the pads from glazing. I rolled into Sisters at midday, spent and soaked and hungry. Got myself a room and dried everything out.

I continue to meet some wonderful people along the way. Everyone is interested in my journey and why I would undertake such an adventure. I’ve run into many cyclists out on the roads. The routine is the same; pull over and introduce ourselves and share a little about where we are going. Most of the time it’s people coming from the opposite direction so you can share a little local knowledge about what lay ahead for the other person.

I’m taking a day to get some paperwork done and bills paid. Also going to do a little maintenance on my bike, get rid of the road grime and clean and lube my drive train. So far I’m pretty thrilled with my bike and trailer. Everything is performing well for the most part. The driver, well, he’s beginning to get the hang of it. I’ve lost I’d guess about seven or eight pounds and one full notch on my belt. I’m eating like crazy but still losing weight.

The pic attached is from my stay at Blue River. Bob and Krista Shafer own Reservoir Dawgs. Ya gotta love the way they exploited Quentin Tarentino when they named their restaurant. Just a couple of the great people I’m meeting along the way. And some of the best biscuits and gravy I’ve ever had. Stop by sometime.

At Reservoir Dawgs in Blue River

Hot dog shack in Blue River

The weather has improved considerably and I am now riding without rain gear. Short sleeved jerseys the last couple of riding days. I ended up staying in Eugene an extra day because Chase Bank thought I was the victim of identity fraud again and closed my main account. Fortunately I was a couple of blocks away from a branch and one of the VP’s got things straightened out after a couple of hours – for now. Thank goodness I was in Eugene or it could have been a nightmare not having access to my money.

It has been less than two weeks and already this journey is turning out to be one of the more extraordinary times of my life. The people I’ve met so far have been incredible. As an example, yesterday I pulled into Blue River around 4pm exhausted, no more gas in the tank. There was a resort that I pulled into to ask if they had a room expecting they would for something way over my budget. The owner let me have his entire bunkhouse, probably well over 2,500 square feet for a few dollars. Amazing. I find people are so gracious, so generous once they hear what I am doing and why. Some people still think I’m off my rocker but heck, I’m used to that.

I’ll be camping the next couple of nights and then on in to Sisters, Redmond and Prineville and parts east. Once I get to the top of Santiam Pass it’s pretty much downhill for awhile so will try and make up some time and do 50 miles a day. My knee, which was really bothering me is doing much better and although my legs are tired most days I am physically better off then I was a week ago. As my dad told me, this first month is training which yeah, I should have done before.

Okay folks, off I go. The lady down the street promised me homemade biscuits and gravy before hitting the road and I can’t pass that up. Top off on Gatorade and as Willy Nelson sings – “On The Road Again……”

I’ve already met some wonderful people along the way. And been the recipient of some terrific hospitality. Last Wednesday when I was being blasted by high winds several people stopped to ask if I needed assistance which I politely declined. On Saturday I left Tillamook very early to Pacific City and arrived at midday, well before check-in time. The innkeepers at the Inn of the Pacific, Prudence and David, not only expedited getting my room ready so I could dry out but gave me a 50% discount knowing that I was doing this for Share. Several people have said they’d be following my blog and donating to Share.

I’m finding myself getting more fit by the day. To be honest, I wasn’t in the best shape of my life when I left last week. I’d never ridden my bike over about 15 miles or so and never with my trailer fully loaded. That I did 47 miles yesterday felt great. Parts of my body are sore – my left knee, my legs and yes, that part that sits in the saddle for 6+ hours. But I’m gaining confidence as the days go by. Believe it or not the part that is the scariest, aside from the log trucks that come within a few feet at breakneck speeds, is descending down hills. My trailer doesn’t wobble very much but I have to stay on the brakes to keep my rig under 30MPH. Scientifically we call that converting potential energy to kinetic energy. When I see these world class riders doing descents at 60MPH it makes me question their sanity.  Highway 18 from the Oregon Coast to Grand Ronde was really, REALLY narrow with almost no shoulder in places. I did that section on Sunday when everyone was driving back from Lincoln City and the beaches. Yikes! I had my lights on and wearing neon and everything to be visible to traffic, cars and trucks passing every couple of seconds for nearly twenty miles.

Thanks to everyone who has written. Believe me when I tell you, it warms my heart to hear from people. I thought when I started out that I’d be listening to music all day but haven’t had my ear buds in one time. I spend my days praying and being grateful for the life I have, my friends and family. And that five years ago I found Share and how it has enriched my life.

-  Bob Segar

The first week is behind me now. I’ve peddled some one hundred and eighty two miles. I’m in Corvallis Oregon at least for another twenty four hours when I’ll move on to Eugene. Today I’m taking a day off to rest my body and charge my batteries a bit. Did a little maintenance on my bike this morning. Took it across the street to a car wash where I got rid of some of the road grime that had accumulated the last week in the rain. Cleaned and lubed my chain and drive train and made sure the rims of my wheels were sparkling clean.

I left Astoria a week ago as a novice, scared really about what was ahead. The first days were quite grueling with incessant rain and wind that chilled me to the bone. At the end of each day I sought nothing more than a hot shower to warm me up. Yeah, that and a couple of Motrin to take care of the aches and pains.

So what have I learned this first week? I learned that I should have listened to people who said that zip lock bags are your friend. Even though I have a waterproof bag to hold my belongings water managed to get in everywhere. So I bought zip lock bags and now everything is dry. Second, I learned that I should have trained a bit more. I should have taken some longer rides and gotten into better shape. As a lifelong athlete I took a lot for granted. My mind tells me I’m still thirty five but believe me, my body knows it’s fifty five.

Tomorrow I head to Eugene which is about forty five miles away. And from there I head over the Santiam Pass which is about 4,800 feet. This first week I’ve been dealing with modest coastal hills but very soon I’ll find myself in real mountains. For those of you keeping score at home my route thus far has taken me down the Oregon coast on Highway 101 (for the most part) to Neskowin where I took the old scenic 101 to Highway 18. From there I went east to 22 and over to 99W down to Corvallis. From here I’ll take a variety of roads to get to Eugene. From Eugene I’ll take 126 up over Santiam Pass to Sisters. Then on to Redmond, Prineville, Mitchell, Dayville, Mount Vernon, John Day, Prairie City and on to Baker City. By the time the dust settles I’ll have done 340 miles between Eugene and Baker City. Lots of mountain passes between here and there. And not a single escalator or elevator.

Again, I appreciate hearing from everyone. It warms my heart to hear the kind words of encouragement. Pretty soon I’ll be camping quite a bit so won’t have access to the internet like I do now. 

My daughter Jennifer and I in Astoria, Oregon on departure day

On Wednesday I had intended to go forty five miles to Tillamook but fell well short and stopped in Wheeler. It may have been the most physically demanding day I’ve ever had in my life. Wind gusts of 50MPH buffeted me for most of the day and it poured rain from start to stop. I had to get off and push my bike and trailer up some hills because the headwinds were so stiff. At one point I had people stopping to ask me if I needed help. When I got down off the hills I started getting blown into traffic and it was at the point that I thought it wasn’t safe to be out there. So, found a nice little inn at Wheeler and put in for the night. Everything was soaked so I had all my clothes and gear laid out to dry overnight.

Thursday I finally made it to Tillamook after a rather uneventful trip. There wasn’t any rain but it was still a little windy. I’m finding that my trailer is quite heavy and not as easy to pull when fully loaded as I’d thought. Part of it is my fitness level. I’m fifty five and not thirty five. As a novice biker I’m learning as I go. My confidence isn’t very high going down steep hills with my trailer. I get going thirty miles an hour and it feels like I’m Chuck Yeager breaking the sound barrier.

Today I’m taking a day off. My knee is a bit sore and my muscles feel like rubber. A day off to recuperate is just what the doctor ordered. I’ll ice my knee and take a little ibuprofen and hit the road tomorrow for Neskowin.

When I’m out on the roads I find myself thinking about Share’s clients, those souls that don’t have shelter. Especially during inclement weather the homeless have a rough go of it. Being cold and wet is not a pleasant experience. I’m grateful that I have the resources to afford shelter when I need it. Many people aren’t that fortunate.

I find I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain…

I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams.

I hope. …..

Red from “The Shawshank Redemption”

My daughter Jennifer will be taking me out to Astoria on Tuesday morning. It will be wonderful to spend some time with her before heading out. Many people have asked me how many miles a day I intend on riding. I’m not so much thinking about how many miles a day but how many hours I’ll be riding each day. I’ll be honest with you, I am not Lance Armstrong. What I want to do is to start out riding around three or four hours a day and depending on the terrain that will dictate how far I get. After a couple of weeks I intend on riding six hours a day on average. I’d like to average around fifty miles per day when all is said and done. When I get up to Wyoming I’ll take a couple of days and explore Yellowstone. My dad wants to meet me in Pueblo Colorado and spend a few days with me. That’s the half way point and I’ll take that opportunity to have my bike tuned up. I’ve already found a bike shop that helps a lot of the riders on the TransAmerica Trail. The bottom line is that I want to stop and smell the roses along the way.

Over the last few days I have found myself in an interesting place emotionally. I sense that my life is about to change but I don’t know what it’s going to be like out there on the road because I’ve never done anything like this. Sure, I’ve done other adventures however this one feels different.  It’s as though I’m disconnecting in ways I never have before. I’m excited but there is a sense of trepidation to be sure.

I’ve been touched by the outpouring of sentiment from people. My fellow board members at Share and the staff have been wonderful and supportive. Vancouver is fortunate to have an organization like Share as part of its social fabric. Homelessness and hunger continue to be a challenge as the economy declines. A year and a half ago we purchased the old Timber Lanes bowling alley on Andreson and we are in the middle of a capital campaign to renovate the building. Even now we are operating our Backpack Program out of the facility as part of the Children’s Hunger Initiative. We’re up to nearly 900 backpacks a week. That may seem like a lot but it only a fraction of the need here in Vancouver. If you are so inclined please click on the link to donate to Share.

I continue to gather my equipment and prepare for the journey. It’s becoming more and more real as each day goes by. There are times when I question whether I’m ready but at the end of the day……I’m going. As you can see from the picture below I’ve laid out my equipment. There’s still a few things I need to purchase but by in large I’m pretty well ready to go.

Share is going to be having it’s annual Share-a-Bowl soup dinner on April 25th. I encourage you to attend because it’s going to be great. We’ll be doing our soup dinner as usual and then be entertained by Patrick Lamb and Michael Allen Harrison. It promises to be a great evening and hopefully we’ll raise a lot of money for Share.

I’ve been going out nearly everyday and getting myself in shape for this journey. I find that for the most part my legs are in good shape from years of running. My butt gets a little sore but that will be alleviated when I get my new saddle next week. The part of my body that hurts most is my right hand believe it or not. Some of you recall that I tore ligaments in it when I hyper-extended my thumb at last years Share Golf Tournament. In hindsight I probably should have had surgery as recommended by my orthopedic surgeon but really didn’t want to be immobilized for two months. Oh well, too late now. That’ll teach me to hit my ball into a sandtrap.

I got my map set from the Adventure Cycling Association and boy, they are great. Very detailed of all 12 sections of the TransAmerica Trail. I wasn’t sure whether to get them or not but after seeing them it was a wise investment. Each map gives precise detail about the roads and highways as well as places to shop and camp. It will make the journey a little easier from a planning perspective.

In reviewing my equipment list for the trip I started paring down a lot of what I initially thought I’d bring. It’s all about weight. I don’t want to be pulling any more up those mountain grades than I have to. When I look at my equipment list  if I have to think about something multiple times I tend to delete it. If I find that I really need something I’ll buy it along the way.

My dad is going to meet me in Pueblo, Colorado when I get there in late June or early July which is exciting. A couple of weeks ago he had a “cardiac event” which was scary. He was in the hospital for a couple of days and it turned out to be something more benign than initially thought. He’s nearly as enthusiastic about this journey of mine as I am. I’m blessed that he has always been supportive.

Please consider Share in your charitable giving. If you want to learn more about homelessness please my Homelessness & Hunger page.

As I will mention quite frequently these next few months, I am doing this trip to raise money for Share. If you find yourself with a few extra dollars please click on that link to the right and donate.

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen events and meetings and material assistance, which no one could have dreamt would have come their way.

 I have learned a deep respect for one Goethe’s couplets: “Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.” Begin it now.

 WH Murray – “The Scottish Expedition”