Days 43-47: The Colorado Rockies and North to the Wyoming Border

Aug 2 - Aug 5

For miles along a hot, desolate, no-services stretch, K had been dreaming that a kind motorist would intuit her parched state and pull over to offer an ice-cold drink. Riding on the 8 inches of shoulder on Highway 9, grinding our pedals against the headwind blowing off Heeny Reservoir, we crested a hill to find a dream come true. We found him in a turn-out, sitting on his VW Beetle bumper, hand extending a soda just plucked from his cooler. K happily guzzled her Pepsi while he filled her water bottles with bubbly water. After an amusing and lively chat, off he zipped, hand waving through his sunroof. Rehydrated, we pedaled as fast as we could to Kremmling to finish the treacherous and heavily trafficked route.

We were happy to have this one good experience with a motorist as our experiences on many of the Colorado roadways were less than desirable; the combination of no shoulders, heavy volume of traffic, and impatient, speeding motorists with cowboy mentalities detracted from the spectacular scenery around us. But the scenery was stunning, particularly near Hoosier Pass.

Climbing the Rockies was challenging. Although the grade was fairly gentle, oxygen was scarce. The last pitch of the climb up to 11,542 foot Hoosier Pass had K sounding like an old Hoover vacuum.

Saved in Colorado

Well, we didn’t find God in Kansas but we did find Paul and Suzi (K’s parents) in Colorado. Or rather, they found us. Plucking us from the hot dusty roadside, they whisked us off to their well-appointed RV, stocked with all the luxuries we’ve been deprived of for 6 weeks: bubbly water, fruit, vegetables, GOOD COFFEE! They have made it their mission to support us for a week or so and are following along, carrying our gear and pampering us. Up at the crack of dawn, they ferry us to the starting point, then drive ahead to set up camp at the next RV park. And more! During a stormy afternoon in Wyoming, they appeared just in the nick of time to rescue us off the side of the road where we were hunkered down behind an embankment’s sagebrush to shelter against the 50 mph gusts and frequent lightning. Emergency rescue, food shopping, ferry services, entertainment…we may not be able to go on after they leave, we are so spoiled now in this lap of luxury.

Day 42 – Sugar City Delivers

Aug 1
Eads, CO to Sugar City, CO
57 miles

The promise of 75 cent homemade cinnamon rolls in the aptly named Sugar City kept us and our new friends pedaling through the long isolated stretch from Eads, CO. An eastbound rider had passed this enticing information on to us a couple days earlier, and well, some of us had been thinking about it ever since. Along the way we sighted Pronghorn antelope, raptors, and white-tailed deer populating the vast plains. K even had a momentarily confused fawn chase after her until it heeded its mother’s call. Every few miles, ML alternately fretted that the Café of the Cinnamon Roll would be closed, and dreamed about the perfect afternoon snack waiting for us in. Finally arriving in the tiny town, we quickly located the café. Closed! Everything in town was closed on this Saturday afternoon save for the tavern. Dejected, we gathered around a soda machine to at least get a cold drink. Foiled again! The only selection that wasn’t sold out was Diet Coke.

The rest of the posse soon arrived with Saz and Aaron having just come under horn attack from a monster truck for no apparent reason. At this point we were a bit sour on Sugar City. There wasn’t a car or resident on the street except for Errol, a local resident, and his sweet dog Buddy. He had witnessed our frustration with the soda machine and listened to our sad tale about the elusive rolls. He suggested that we go over and knock on the café door and ask for some rolls. “She lives right there. Go up to the door and knock.” Instead of following Errol’s advice, we lounged in the shade before heading off into the dry afternoon heat. By this time Errol had gone on his way, but Saz spied him in his truck headed toward the café. “Do you think???”, Saz asked. Not too long after this query, Errol rolled by in his old blue and white Ford truck waving a bag of seven weighty cinnamon rolls for us. We all cheered and Buddy wagged. A sweet ending after all.

Day 41 – We Leave Kansas and Get Pulled Over by the Sheriff

July 31
Tribune, KS to Eads, CO
60 miles

We finally escaped Kansas and entered Colorado, our sixth state!

Potluck in Haswell! The day’s destination was Haswell, a tiny town about 20 miles west of Eads. We were having a most agreeable day, travelling as part of a loose peloton of Saz, Aaron, Chris, and Kyle. It was agreed that we’d all make dinner together and late in the afternoon stopped in Eads to get food. This errand complete, we (K and ML) forged on ahead towards Haswell. Not more than a quarter mile outside of town, the sheriff pulled up next to our bikes, lights flashing. Our hearts pounded. Had he seen us roll through the stop sign on Main Street? Had the clerk at the grocery store reported Kath’s infringement of sitting on the bagged dog food? No, the sheriff had stopped to warn us that there was a severe weather warning and informed us that there was nothing in the way of shelter between Eads and Haswell. Just miles of sagebrush and wildflowers. Having witnessed one of the Midwest’s epic lightshows from the safety of our indoor accommodation the previous night, and experienced various “mild” Midwest storms, this was enough warning for us. We reversed course and headed back into town where there was a hung jury on whether to stay put or proceed. The three gals were all for heeding the sheriff’s advice and eventually the guys reluctantly agreed.

Indeed, within an hour, a storm to make the wicked witch of the west proud swooshed down on us as we set up tents. We fled across the green to the courthouse where we kindly had been offered shelter. From there we watched torrential wind and rain lash branches out of trees and crossed our fingers that our tents wouldn’t end back up in Kansas. After waiting out a power outage, we were able to use a real kitchen and dine in style inside using in the courthouse’s community room. So much better than the outdoor park bench!

Days 38-40: Marching Westward to Colorado

July 28
Larned, KS to Ness City, KS
66 miles

July 29
Ness City, KS to Scott City, KS
57 miles

July 30
Scott City, KS to Tribune, KS
47 miles

We entered a new time zone today (Mountain), and are half a day’s ride from Colorado. We can’t say we’re sad to leave Kansas. The people are wonderful, the scenery is spectacular, but the riding is monotonous and taking a toll on our bodies. We’ve been riding the same flat terrain for over a week, providing no variation in saddle position. Instead of logging the long-mileage days that we expected, we have been frustrated by headwinds, thunderstorms, and sore butts, and our mileage has gotten shorter by the day. On the other hand, we couldn’t be happier with the temperatures. While the Pacific Northwest is sweltering in record-high temperatures, Kansas is experiencing record lows. We have been cycling in 70-80 degree weather, which is practically unheard of in the summer months. Another bonus: we’ve hooked up with the dynamic brother-sister duo of Aaron and Saz and hope to continue riding with them as long as we can keep up!

Tonight’s evening entertainment was the county fair, being held right here in Tribune. We took in the swine show, followed it up with hot dogs and root beer, and then some of us (K, Aaron, and Saz) braved the swing ride. Everyone survived the sketchy circa-1950 machinery, though K came off looking a bit green. To complete the fair experience, we shared a funnel cake, then decided to call it a night while limbs and stomachs were still reasonably intact.

Although we are behind schedule, it’s amazing to look at the map of the US and see how far we’ve come. We have cycled over 2,000 miles and are more than half way across! We can still hardly believe that we are doing this trip. Early on in our trip, in Kentucky, we were having one of our daily interchanges with local residents about our trip. A man asked about our trip, and we responded that we had started in Washington, DC and were headed for Seattle. He looked at us and there was a long silence. Then his eyes got wide and he exclaimed in his thick Kentucky drawl: “On BAH-cycles!?” I think of this conversation at least once a day, and think to myself, “OMG, we’re crossing the US on BAH-cycles!”

Days 35-37: Holy Water

July 25
Eureka, KS to Newton KS
76 miles

July 26
Newton, KS to Sterling KS
66 miles

July 27, 2009
Sterling KS to Larned, KS
58 miles

Short of the big guns, tornadoes and car-damaging hail, Kansas has pulled out all its summer weather extremes for us. We’ve cycled its cool, still mornings, sampled its headwinds, and broasted (that’s simultaneous broiling and roasting). Today we rode along a 53 mile stretch with nary a service, not even a lemonade stand at one of the five houses we passed. Along the way cows cooled their heels and other parts in any available pond. When polled, ten out of ten cows agreed Kansas is too hot! Along the way K spotted a sign for the Peace Church and spent four miles riding in prayer for a spigot. It paid off. Now she’s spotting the holy spigot on toast and tortillas. After soaking our shirts, heads, and kerchiefs, we rode off feeling refreshed. Three-quarters of a mile later, our holy water had evaporated and we were heating up again.

The forecast was for a 20% chance of thundershowers, which shortly after our church birdbath turned into a 100% pounding thunderstorm. ML smartly pulled out her rain gear, including her newly purchased Walmart flamingo-colored shower cap, while K tried riding on, eventually seeking shelter in the cab of an abandoned John Deere corn harvester. That is, until she remembered that she was sitting in a gigantic lightning rod and might as well be riding her bike on a golf course holding her clubs in the air. Storm over, we raced the final 18 miles into Larned ahead of the next band of showers

The last two days we’ve met another wave of eastbounders, including a couple of retired teachers from Seattle, Frank and Allison. We finally met Rebecca and Mia, two cool young women on their own, who we had heard about from Keith a couple of weeks ago. Mia was using her mom’s Brooks saddle from when her mom rode the inaugural Transam in 1976.

Days 33 & 34 – Wind: Friend or Foe?

July 23
Pittsburg, KS to Chanute, KS
59 miles

July 24
Chanute, KS to Eureka, KS
66 miles

Eastbound riders’ reports out of Kansas were not glowing. Boring. Hot. Keith reported being “suicidal” by the time he reached the Missouri border. Karen, an enthusiastic rider, exclaimed, “Rent a car. Drive across Kansas. There’s no shame in it!” For the past month, the main headline of biker’s Kansas stories has featured the terrible headwinds of Kansas. On the flipside, we’ve been reading about Westbounders easily logging 100+ mile days with the winds at their backs. We crossed our fingers that the winds would stay the same. Ha! Not so my friends! Our two days of riding in Kansas have been directly into a strong dehydrating wind of 12-20 mph, with temperatures up to 97. We had hoped to make up some miles in this flat state, but are pedaling hard just to eke out 65 miles a day.

The winds are not our first challenge on this trip, nor will they be the last. Today, we were comparing notes and found that when the going gets rough and we find ourselves getting negative, we both hear Denise, our extraordinary yoga teacher, reminding us of meeting challenge with gratitude and presence in the moment.

The kicker is, the winds the past two days are what native Kansan’s consider a gentle breeze. We learned this bit of Kansas meteorology from two wonderful Kansas women, Jay and Janie, who we met in Eureka. In town for their family reunion, we happened to ask Janie a question about lodging as they unloaded their car. This friendly exchange turned into a car tour of Eureka, a trip out to Eureka Lake, a treat out to dinner (our first chicken fried steak), and the affection of Red, their Boston Terrier. A delightful antidote to a grinding day.