I finished my bike trip on a date that eludes me, on the George Washington Bridge surrounded by teammates. The next day I was so weak I couldn't get out of bed and ended up in the ER a few days after. After receiving a mighty fine bill for 2 tylenol and 30 minutes of "rest" in the hospital I went home, rested, and started working soon after. The 70 hour work weeks became the norm the past three months, and now I'm a bit apprehensive to leave again to go walk in the woods.
I often wondered why so many people never finish their blogs nor go on any other adventures ever again. I think that part of the reason is that it's a thousand times more difficult to leave again after settling down then it is to do it for the first time. I'm scared. I don't say that often, but I'm scared of being miserable out on the hike. I'm scared of the rain, the cold, the nagging thoughts on food and a dwindling budget. I'm scared of myself, I'm scared of being lonely. I'm not scared of bears though.
I don't need to go and prove anything to anyone anymore. I never did, except maybe to myself. In a way the whole 8 months I spent riding a fucking bicycle around the country seem like a waste of time. People often ask me "Oh! it must have been so wonderful! What was your favorite part?" I don't know what to say. I got up and biked. I then biked the next day, and the next day. Over time I biked around the country. I saw things; I met people. It was great. Hooray.
Maybe I'm just down on life, maybe it's something else. I'm sick of the city and I'm sick of the uncertain. Life on the road is over-romanticized. It's nothing but torture and pain day in and day out.
I'm having a bad day.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
(:
Monday, August 20, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
What brings you to Ohio?
"I said damn if I know."
April 30th, 2012.
Leaving Chicago wasn't as bad as entering it- I stuck mostly to bike paths to go south east. Indiana was a lovely state. It had very well paved roads (including wide shoulders) as well as many places to pull out and camp. I decided that the Yellow River was the place to camp out the one night I spent in Indiana and it proved to be a nice quiet night on what I assumed to be hunting lands.
I got to Warsaw, Indiana the next day where I hoped to find a good Polish diner and enjoy some pierogis. At the gas station I was told that all they have as far as foreign foods go was Greek. I didn't want Greek! I went to the Visitor center where the nice ladies broke the news to me in a gentle manner; there is very little polish culture in Warsaw. I was told the lake-side restaurant had some good pizza. I didn't want pizza! My stomach was set on some polish cuisine, not Italian nor Greek. I left Warsaw disappointed with a growling tummy.
I was intimidated by the East whenever I would look at a map. Roads went everywhere, which one should I take? It all looked messy and unorganized. In the west there was a road that went north-south and a road that went west-east, and I could get on a road and stay on it for days (like hwy 64 in New Mexico). Navigating the east came back to me rather quickly though and I enjoyed quiet farm roads that went through little towns as I made my way into Ohio.
I stopped in Continental, Ohio and filled my water bottles at a gas station. The employees could not control their laughter as I made my way through the store dirty, unshaven and wearing tight spandex. "I biked here from California and am..." Laughter stops. "You did what!?" By the time I left I had 3 new best friends at a gas station in Ohio.
The part of Ohio I went through was mostly farm land and it was hard to find that "perfect" campspots. Trees were sparse and few in between though I managed to find a grove in which the local rancher let me camp out in. At this point what I ate didn't matter anymore. I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner and then ate ham & lettuce sandwiches for most of the next day.
My stove became dead weight.
It rained on and off and by the time I was ready to set up camp the next day all that looked promising was an RV ground ( I won't call it a "camp" ground as there is very little camping going on. I think "parking ground" would be a better way to define these fine establishments). The gate was closed so I called the owners, they said to come on by. When I saw the amount of RV's scattered all around I turned my nifty bike and trailer around and all the owners saw were my tires shooting gravel everywhere as I dashed out away from people and society once again. I knocked on someones door to ask if I could camp in the woods in front of their house. No one answered so I perceived the answer to be yes, even though those damn yellow Posted signs were everywhere. It was fine, no one came by waking me up in the middle of the night with a rifle pointed at my head asking me "Whacha doing here boy".
The morning held onto the rain, though the drizzle turned out to be quite refreshing. I passed a house in which a garage door was open and 3 people were inside. One woman looked like she was cold and uncomfortable, the other two were shifting through a whole bunch of crap. The garage was filled with shit; shit that owned these people. I was having a low day (fuel pump broke, everything was wet) until I rode past these folks. I realized how glad I was that I wasn't them and instead myself, almost possession-less save for a few items, riding along at whatever pace the wind allowed me to. I though about how they probably pitied me, went inside, made some hot coffee and stayed inside the whole day. I pity them just as well, for they know not of the pleasure of being free.
In East Canton I stopped to buy some fruit. The cashier, a cute gal with a pretty rad name which I can't remember now gave me directions out of the city and was the first person in the East to understand my unconventional camping style. I was in the mood for a pine tree grove with a view of some farmland and found just that. The neighbor was cool about it as well after making sure I wouldn't burn the whole forest down. I think pine trees inspire peace within me.
I crossed into Pennsylvania the next day after being interviewed by a reporter in East Liverpool, OH. Story here
The rolling hills began, the camping and food was great, the people rather nice. I got to Pittsburgh, had a Pittsburger cheese steak topped with coleslaw & fries (I learned about this restaurant in New Mexico after watching a food show) and made my way (slowly) out of the city. The road was busy and a pain to ride on. I stopped at a McDonald's after the rain began and enjoyed the company of a sweet girl who kept refilling my iced tea. I can't quite remember what was sweeter- her, or the artificially flavored tea.
April 30th, 2012.
Leaving Chicago wasn't as bad as entering it- I stuck mostly to bike paths to go south east. Indiana was a lovely state. It had very well paved roads (including wide shoulders) as well as many places to pull out and camp. I decided that the Yellow River was the place to camp out the one night I spent in Indiana and it proved to be a nice quiet night on what I assumed to be hunting lands.
I got to Warsaw, Indiana the next day where I hoped to find a good Polish diner and enjoy some pierogis. At the gas station I was told that all they have as far as foreign foods go was Greek. I didn't want Greek! I went to the Visitor center where the nice ladies broke the news to me in a gentle manner; there is very little polish culture in Warsaw. I was told the lake-side restaurant had some good pizza. I didn't want pizza! My stomach was set on some polish cuisine, not Italian nor Greek. I left Warsaw disappointed with a growling tummy.
I was intimidated by the East whenever I would look at a map. Roads went everywhere, which one should I take? It all looked messy and unorganized. In the west there was a road that went north-south and a road that went west-east, and I could get on a road and stay on it for days (like hwy 64 in New Mexico). Navigating the east came back to me rather quickly though and I enjoyed quiet farm roads that went through little towns as I made my way into Ohio.
I stopped in Continental, Ohio and filled my water bottles at a gas station. The employees could not control their laughter as I made my way through the store dirty, unshaven and wearing tight spandex. "I biked here from California and am..." Laughter stops. "You did what!?" By the time I left I had 3 new best friends at a gas station in Ohio.
The part of Ohio I went through was mostly farm land and it was hard to find that "perfect" campspots. Trees were sparse and few in between though I managed to find a grove in which the local rancher let me camp out in. At this point what I ate didn't matter anymore. I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner and then ate ham & lettuce sandwiches for most of the next day.
My stove became dead weight.
It rained on and off and by the time I was ready to set up camp the next day all that looked promising was an RV ground ( I won't call it a "camp" ground as there is very little camping going on. I think "parking ground" would be a better way to define these fine establishments). The gate was closed so I called the owners, they said to come on by. When I saw the amount of RV's scattered all around I turned my nifty bike and trailer around and all the owners saw were my tires shooting gravel everywhere as I dashed out away from people and society once again. I knocked on someones door to ask if I could camp in the woods in front of their house. No one answered so I perceived the answer to be yes, even though those damn yellow Posted signs were everywhere. It was fine, no one came by waking me up in the middle of the night with a rifle pointed at my head asking me "Whacha doing here boy".
The morning held onto the rain, though the drizzle turned out to be quite refreshing. I passed a house in which a garage door was open and 3 people were inside. One woman looked like she was cold and uncomfortable, the other two were shifting through a whole bunch of crap. The garage was filled with shit; shit that owned these people. I was having a low day (fuel pump broke, everything was wet) until I rode past these folks. I realized how glad I was that I wasn't them and instead myself, almost possession-less save for a few items, riding along at whatever pace the wind allowed me to. I though about how they probably pitied me, went inside, made some hot coffee and stayed inside the whole day. I pity them just as well, for they know not of the pleasure of being free.
In East Canton I stopped to buy some fruit. The cashier, a cute gal with a pretty rad name which I can't remember now gave me directions out of the city and was the first person in the East to understand my unconventional camping style. I was in the mood for a pine tree grove with a view of some farmland and found just that. The neighbor was cool about it as well after making sure I wouldn't burn the whole forest down. I think pine trees inspire peace within me.
I crossed into Pennsylvania the next day after being interviewed by a reporter in East Liverpool, OH. Story here
The rolling hills began, the camping and food was great, the people rather nice. I got to Pittsburgh, had a Pittsburger cheese steak topped with coleslaw & fries (I learned about this restaurant in New Mexico after watching a food show) and made my way (slowly) out of the city. The road was busy and a pain to ride on. I stopped at a McDonald's after the rain began and enjoyed the company of a sweet girl who kept refilling my iced tea. I can't quite remember what was sweeter- her, or the artificially flavored tea.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Hospitality & Chicago
I'v often thought about how people affected my trip. How kind everyone has been, how often I've been invited in. It was no different when I arrived at Bob's Hunting Lodge. Robyn ushered me in and got me some towels so I could dry myself off. She mentioned they were going to flag me down when they saw me going by their windows. I got to chow on some pie and told some of the hunters at the lodge my story but was set on leaving shortly. The rain never stopped and the wind kept howling (stripping shingles off of the roof)and the kind folks invited me to stay for dinner and the night as they had some spare beds. I didn't want to loose too many miles so Robyn offered to drive me out east a bit the next day as she was heading to Sioux Falls.
Rob, Robyn & Carmelo
I had some of the best Lasagna ever that night (sorry Mom!) and slept soundly. The storm passed during the night, Robyn drove me out to Vermillion, SD, in the morning (and left me with some Apple Pie, 5 pounds of cold cuts, bread and snacks)and after a few miles I crossed the Missouri River into Nebraska. People were super friendly, everyone waved or smiled. I thought it was a great day until I see a black cat start to cross the road. "NO" I yelled. The cat looked at me, startled; yet frozen in time. "Please... listen to me Cat, I don't want any problems, just turn around and go back to where you came from... Yes?". "STOP! No! Don't move, please!". At this point I am yelling as loud as I can at some cat that has made it about 60% across the road. I see the neighbors door open and 3 people come out. I smile and wave nonchalantly at them and then speed across both lanes of traffic (very little traffic) in hopes of scaring the cat into thinking that I will get to him faster before he can get across and instead it will be smarter for him to turn around and not complete his unfortunate (for me) road crossing. Needless to say it didn't work, he crossed the road, I cursed at him with the people still looking at me and kept heading East. Thankfully nothing bad happened and the next few days were pretty good, although you can never be too careful.
I got on hwy 20 with the goal of crossing the Missouri again and camping somewhere in Iowa but when I saw this path leading to the river side I knew I had to take it. I found a great spot for the night and had pie for dinner. Thanks Black cat!, I guess.
Iowa is not flat. I never expected to be as hilly as it was. Iowas DOT also doesn't believe in shoulders, and sharing a 10' concrete road with Tractor Trailers wasn't to much fun. I do have to however Thank each and every driver that moved over into the passing lane (when they could) slowed down, waved or honked to inform me he was behind me. I do wish though that a major highway could be designed in a way that doesn't have me looking back every few seconds. I managed 86 miles with a Southerly cross wind and camped right by the road. The forecast called for 10-20mph winds from the WEST and I was set on catching every little breeze that I could. I was on the road before 8 that morning and managed 201 miles in 11.5 hours (12.5 hours with breaks). It was a new 12 hour record for me. I took a nude bath in a stream that night by moon light and was pleasantly happy with myself.
As nature would have it the next day wasn't so fun. The wind was now from the East, rain was falling and the bike path I was told to go on by the Visitor center wasn't suitable for my skinny tires. I got to the Mississippi River at Dubuque and knew perusing a crossing with no information on bridge condition wasn't the greatest idea so I camped out by the River in a park. In the morning McDonalds provided the internet which let me know the closer bridge had no shoulder and only 2 narrow lanes. I took a ride through Dubuque to the northern bridge and my return Mississippi crossing went by without a hitch on a nice wide shoulder.
I went through Wisconsin and then headed south into Illinois, was some 180 miles from Chicago at that point. It didn't rain much but it was cloudy and cold. I stopped at Subway for lunch where a lady was interested in my story. I don't believe I got the couples name but before they left I was handed a one hundred dollar bill and told to get a nice Hotel room. I was pretty moved by this gesture and hope the folks realize how much their generosity meant to me. (Thanks Judy & Gary Bocker!) It wasn't about the money really, just another reestablishment of the idea that people actually care about one another out here.
I didn't get a room for that night as I really wanted to camp out. I found a great spot on some hunting land by the highway and got lucky in the morning when the crew working on the highway nor the sheriff said anything when they saw me coming out of the woods.
I made it across Illinois in 2 days and got to Chicago that night. I stayed with Ethan who I contacted via warmshowers. The roads to get into the city were hell as usual. Chicago was yet another city. Clean, nice. I don't know how to describe cities. An open field? A river, a wooded swamp? No problem, I can write a whole book about that one place. Cities, on the other hand, are too big to truly grasp in any meaningful way on paper. Too much is happening, too many people are moving. I went to Rei and then a Polish Diner before heading out the next day.
Rob, Robyn & Carmelo
I had some of the best Lasagna ever that night (sorry Mom!) and slept soundly. The storm passed during the night, Robyn drove me out to Vermillion, SD, in the morning (and left me with some Apple Pie, 5 pounds of cold cuts, bread and snacks)and after a few miles I crossed the Missouri River into Nebraska. People were super friendly, everyone waved or smiled. I thought it was a great day until I see a black cat start to cross the road. "NO" I yelled. The cat looked at me, startled; yet frozen in time. "Please... listen to me Cat, I don't want any problems, just turn around and go back to where you came from... Yes?". "STOP! No! Don't move, please!". At this point I am yelling as loud as I can at some cat that has made it about 60% across the road. I see the neighbors door open and 3 people come out. I smile and wave nonchalantly at them and then speed across both lanes of traffic (very little traffic) in hopes of scaring the cat into thinking that I will get to him faster before he can get across and instead it will be smarter for him to turn around and not complete his unfortunate (for me) road crossing. Needless to say it didn't work, he crossed the road, I cursed at him with the people still looking at me and kept heading East. Thankfully nothing bad happened and the next few days were pretty good, although you can never be too careful.
I got on hwy 20 with the goal of crossing the Missouri again and camping somewhere in Iowa but when I saw this path leading to the river side I knew I had to take it. I found a great spot for the night and had pie for dinner. Thanks Black cat!, I guess.
Iowa is not flat. I never expected to be as hilly as it was. Iowas DOT also doesn't believe in shoulders, and sharing a 10' concrete road with Tractor Trailers wasn't to much fun. I do have to however Thank each and every driver that moved over into the passing lane (when they could) slowed down, waved or honked to inform me he was behind me. I do wish though that a major highway could be designed in a way that doesn't have me looking back every few seconds. I managed 86 miles with a Southerly cross wind and camped right by the road. The forecast called for 10-20mph winds from the WEST and I was set on catching every little breeze that I could. I was on the road before 8 that morning and managed 201 miles in 11.5 hours (12.5 hours with breaks). It was a new 12 hour record for me. I took a nude bath in a stream that night by moon light and was pleasantly happy with myself.
As nature would have it the next day wasn't so fun. The wind was now from the East, rain was falling and the bike path I was told to go on by the Visitor center wasn't suitable for my skinny tires. I got to the Mississippi River at Dubuque and knew perusing a crossing with no information on bridge condition wasn't the greatest idea so I camped out by the River in a park. In the morning McDonalds provided the internet which let me know the closer bridge had no shoulder and only 2 narrow lanes. I took a ride through Dubuque to the northern bridge and my return Mississippi crossing went by without a hitch on a nice wide shoulder.
I went through Wisconsin and then headed south into Illinois, was some 180 miles from Chicago at that point. It didn't rain much but it was cloudy and cold. I stopped at Subway for lunch where a lady was interested in my story. I don't believe I got the couples name but before they left I was handed a one hundred dollar bill and told to get a nice Hotel room. I was pretty moved by this gesture and hope the folks realize how much their generosity meant to me. (Thanks Judy & Gary Bocker!) It wasn't about the money really, just another reestablishment of the idea that people actually care about one another out here.
I didn't get a room for that night as I really wanted to camp out. I found a great spot on some hunting land by the highway and got lucky in the morning when the crew working on the highway nor the sheriff said anything when they saw me coming out of the woods.
I made it across Illinois in 2 days and got to Chicago that night. I stayed with Ethan who I contacted via warmshowers. The roads to get into the city were hell as usual. Chicago was yet another city. Clean, nice. I don't know how to describe cities. An open field? A river, a wooded swamp? No problem, I can write a whole book about that one place. Cities, on the other hand, are too big to truly grasp in any meaningful way on paper. Too much is happening, too many people are moving. I went to Rei and then a Polish Diner before heading out the next day.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Yellowstone & Aeolus
(As you might tell from the above map and pictures I have made it to Chicago and am now going across Ohio! I've been lagging on posts as after biking all day all I want to do is sleep all night. I haven't taken as many rest days as previously in the trip, hence my apoligies. My goal is to reach the GWB on May 6th, which leaves me with about 10 days to do some 600 miles.)
Yellowstone looked welcoming & inviting until people started telling me stories of people getting mauled by bears. The fact that I was carrying a pound of ham didn't help to settle my concerns, and I ended up buying a 60$ bottle of bear spray. Whenever I told someone (in west yellowstone) "yeah ill camp out somewhere in Yellowstone tonight" they seemed appalled and told me several times that I'm not allowed to do that. I'm not sure if they were concerned with my safety, protecting the park or just following the law, but they seemed pretty narrow minded.
The roads were clear with some snow on the sides, only a few maintenance vehicles were roaming around. Trees, mountains, streams, snow, animals... I was happy and content, as I was in a place where I truly felt I belonged.
I got to the closed Madison campground and decided to stay there as I could throw all my food in the bear box and not have to worry about using up my 60$ bottle of bear spray. It snowed during the night and I woke up to a picturesque scene of snow covered pine trees.
It snowed most of the next day and it felt like Christmas. I got to Mammoth Hot springs and went into the general store to relax for a bit. At this point my goal was to turn east and head to Cooke City, then traverse my way through 15' of snow as one of the highway passes was closed, and make it down to Cooke City followed by South Dakota. Several people have already mentioned that this would be close to impossible, and being told that I might sink into 15' of snow and possibly encounter avalanches by the rangers made me re think my decision. I figured I could buy snow shoes and get a ski or two for my bike but it wasn't a given whether or not I could find those items in Cooke city. Renting a snow mobile for the day was too expensive and would have been a hassle to transport my bike and trailer on it.
Yellowstone Roads
I met Jerry and his wife, Linda, at the general store and they invited me over to spend a night at their place. I got to take a shower, do some laundry and have some really good conversations with these folks. They do a lot of bike touring and traveling as well and were great to talk to.
It snowed the rest of the day and night accumulating about 6". The closed pass that I was planning on traversing (11200') got some 5' of snow. Since Linda and Jerry were headed up to Livingston (and my plans looked less and less achievable) I agreed for them to take me up to I-90 which I could take east for 200 miles with little snow problems. I started biking around 11 and by 6 had done around 100 miles with the westerly wind on the interstate.
I camped across some folks home at which point sometime during the night the wind changed to the east and would remain this way for the next several days. I considered getting in 60 miles to be an accomplishment as the wind had it's way with me.
The land was flat and I was missing the Rocky Mountains. There is something so appealing about those mountains... I experienced the same thing in New Mexico when crossing them. It was then that the actual decision of doing the Great Divide mountain bike trail (and possibly The Continental divide hiking trail, both follow the Rockies from Canada to Mexico)sometime in the future came about.
I had a package mailed to a post office in South Dakota that was 500 miles away, it was Monday. I had to pick it up on Friday or Saturday morning as I did not want to get stuck somewhere for a whole day waiting til The following Monday to pick it up. This put me on a fast track across the rest of Montana and SD as I had to do about 120 miles daily to achieve this goal.
On Wednesday I got to Broadus, MT and started asking around for good places to camp out at. The supermarket ladies told me that there is a picnic area 40 miles east (it was 7 o'clock). The gas attendant told me I could try the highway weight station as it has a "grassy area". I wanted to ask her if shed like to try and sleep while trucks pulled in and out all night feet from where you were but didn't. Other people weren't helpful at all, some told me to go to the 70$ a night motel. I'm pulling out of town when I see a fishing area by a river. It's had picnic tables and bathrooms, no signs prohibiting camping. I was amazed that these people could live in the same town all their life yet know so little about it. I camped out but was woken up a few times by sheep... Meeeeh, and so I did what I did back in Florida with the boars, tried scarring them away by running out of my tent.
I told this to a rancher in the morning (after I stopped at a post office in the middle of nowhere) and he commented that I should have taken one of the sheep into the tent with me for warmth (as it got down to below freezing) just not to let anyone catch me with it in my tent as it might give me a bad name around town...
That same rancher gave me a ride 50 miles south to South Dakota as I couldn't deal with going 2 miles an hour due to the headwind anymore. I went through Spearfish and then camped out in Black Hills Nat Forest by some forest road.
Going through the forest was really spectacular. I got to the base of the road that goes up to Mt. Rushmore, hid my trailer in the woods and rode up to the monument in style.
The next day I started entering the lovely Indian Reservations of the US. I was praying that they would be different from the ones I went through in the south but was let down with the first sighting of massive garbage piles on the road side. Atop that I had dogs run out at me constantly itching to start gnawing at my feet if I let them; the 20 dead dogs I saw roadside wasn't all too appealing either.
The road through the Badlands, Red Shirt & Pine Ridge Reservation was incredibly scenic as long as you could block out all the garbage that not only littered the road ways but peoples homes. I couldn't, and when I got to the town of Pine Ridge I went their city hall and started complaining from department to department. I talked to several Native Americans, the director of housing, two road directors, the person in charge of pet control (there are only two of them for the whole reservation) and several other board members.
The common answer I got was simple and straight forward: "native americans are lazy." I'm sorry for generalizing here, for these are the words of the non-lazy Native Americans hoping to change things. It turns out when you give people everything for free they stop appreciating it.. Huh, who knew right? I was told how laws (like the 2-pets per household limit) weren't being enforced as everyone knew each other and was somehow related, so no one wanted to fine their great great uncles cousin for it wouldn't be right. I was told of how gang violence is ripping communities apart and how on a regular basis people enter the reservation without ever coming out or being heard from again.
I was taken around from department to department by "lone eagle", a guy who just got out of federal prison. He told me to make it out of the Rez by that night, and was truly concerned about my safety. Several times he mentioned that he could get me food as he had an unlimited EBT card. I thought he was kidding but after the 10th time he insisted I relented and we went to get some groceries. 63$ worth of food, his card covered 61$ of it and the rest went into oblivion. Just like that I got sixty dollars worth of groceries for nothing, just as he does everyday, just as every native American gets for, well, being native American? (some people have limits, others get around 200$ a month in EBT on top of the 800$ monthly check). I think it's great that the government provides them with hundreds of thousands of dollars every month... After all we killed their buffalo and now the poor natives have nothing to eat right?
I continued east ward after that, camped out at another reservation and then got to Winner, SD. I had to get a motel room for the night as the rain was incredibly bad, my tent broke apart and my bike needed some maintenance. I managed to borrow a welder that evening and fixed my tent poles.
In the morning it was pouring out but the wind was from the NW at 20-30 with gusts to 50 so I decided to take advantage of it. To say I was getting blown all over the road would be an understatement. I ended up in the ditch twice and had to stop, hunker down with my brakes on and wait out a few northerly spells from Aeolus as it was just impossible to ride straight.
I was headed down the road when I saw a change of scenery up ahead. It looked wet. The trucks going the other direction from me were drenched, yet I was happy-go-lucky as it wasn't raining where I was. Well the hail started soon after, pelleting me with 1/4" size pebbles. It was hard to see and I decided to take shelter at the next place I could find. I came to what looked like some sort of lodge and pulled into the driveway in hopes of possibly hiding under the porch overhang until the cell passed. Before I even get off my bike the front door swung open and...
Yellowstone looked welcoming & inviting until people started telling me stories of people getting mauled by bears. The fact that I was carrying a pound of ham didn't help to settle my concerns, and I ended up buying a 60$ bottle of bear spray. Whenever I told someone (in west yellowstone) "yeah ill camp out somewhere in Yellowstone tonight" they seemed appalled and told me several times that I'm not allowed to do that. I'm not sure if they were concerned with my safety, protecting the park or just following the law, but they seemed pretty narrow minded.
The roads were clear with some snow on the sides, only a few maintenance vehicles were roaming around. Trees, mountains, streams, snow, animals... I was happy and content, as I was in a place where I truly felt I belonged.
I got to the closed Madison campground and decided to stay there as I could throw all my food in the bear box and not have to worry about using up my 60$ bottle of bear spray. It snowed during the night and I woke up to a picturesque scene of snow covered pine trees.
It snowed most of the next day and it felt like Christmas. I got to Mammoth Hot springs and went into the general store to relax for a bit. At this point my goal was to turn east and head to Cooke City, then traverse my way through 15' of snow as one of the highway passes was closed, and make it down to Cooke City followed by South Dakota. Several people have already mentioned that this would be close to impossible, and being told that I might sink into 15' of snow and possibly encounter avalanches by the rangers made me re think my decision. I figured I could buy snow shoes and get a ski or two for my bike but it wasn't a given whether or not I could find those items in Cooke city. Renting a snow mobile for the day was too expensive and would have been a hassle to transport my bike and trailer on it.
Yellowstone Roads
It snowed the rest of the day and night accumulating about 6". The closed pass that I was planning on traversing (11200') got some 5' of snow. Since Linda and Jerry were headed up to Livingston (and my plans looked less and less achievable) I agreed for them to take me up to I-90 which I could take east for 200 miles with little snow problems. I started biking around 11 and by 6 had done around 100 miles with the westerly wind on the interstate.
I camped across some folks home at which point sometime during the night the wind changed to the east and would remain this way for the next several days. I considered getting in 60 miles to be an accomplishment as the wind had it's way with me.
The land was flat and I was missing the Rocky Mountains. There is something so appealing about those mountains... I experienced the same thing in New Mexico when crossing them. It was then that the actual decision of doing the Great Divide mountain bike trail (and possibly The Continental divide hiking trail, both follow the Rockies from Canada to Mexico)sometime in the future came about.
I had a package mailed to a post office in South Dakota that was 500 miles away, it was Monday. I had to pick it up on Friday or Saturday morning as I did not want to get stuck somewhere for a whole day waiting til The following Monday to pick it up. This put me on a fast track across the rest of Montana and SD as I had to do about 120 miles daily to achieve this goal.
On Wednesday I got to Broadus, MT and started asking around for good places to camp out at. The supermarket ladies told me that there is a picnic area 40 miles east (it was 7 o'clock). The gas attendant told me I could try the highway weight station as it has a "grassy area". I wanted to ask her if shed like to try and sleep while trucks pulled in and out all night feet from where you were but didn't. Other people weren't helpful at all, some told me to go to the 70$ a night motel. I'm pulling out of town when I see a fishing area by a river. It's had picnic tables and bathrooms, no signs prohibiting camping. I was amazed that these people could live in the same town all their life yet know so little about it. I camped out but was woken up a few times by sheep... Meeeeh, and so I did what I did back in Florida with the boars, tried scarring them away by running out of my tent.
I told this to a rancher in the morning (after I stopped at a post office in the middle of nowhere) and he commented that I should have taken one of the sheep into the tent with me for warmth (as it got down to below freezing) just not to let anyone catch me with it in my tent as it might give me a bad name around town...
That same rancher gave me a ride 50 miles south to South Dakota as I couldn't deal with going 2 miles an hour due to the headwind anymore. I went through Spearfish and then camped out in Black Hills Nat Forest by some forest road.
Going through the forest was really spectacular. I got to the base of the road that goes up to Mt. Rushmore, hid my trailer in the woods and rode up to the monument in style.
The next day I started entering the lovely Indian Reservations of the US. I was praying that they would be different from the ones I went through in the south but was let down with the first sighting of massive garbage piles on the road side. Atop that I had dogs run out at me constantly itching to start gnawing at my feet if I let them; the 20 dead dogs I saw roadside wasn't all too appealing either.
The road through the Badlands, Red Shirt & Pine Ridge Reservation was incredibly scenic as long as you could block out all the garbage that not only littered the road ways but peoples homes. I couldn't, and when I got to the town of Pine Ridge I went their city hall and started complaining from department to department. I talked to several Native Americans, the director of housing, two road directors, the person in charge of pet control (there are only two of them for the whole reservation) and several other board members.
The common answer I got was simple and straight forward: "native americans are lazy." I'm sorry for generalizing here, for these are the words of the non-lazy Native Americans hoping to change things. It turns out when you give people everything for free they stop appreciating it.. Huh, who knew right? I was told how laws (like the 2-pets per household limit) weren't being enforced as everyone knew each other and was somehow related, so no one wanted to fine their great great uncles cousin for it wouldn't be right. I was told of how gang violence is ripping communities apart and how on a regular basis people enter the reservation without ever coming out or being heard from again.
I was taken around from department to department by "lone eagle", a guy who just got out of federal prison. He told me to make it out of the Rez by that night, and was truly concerned about my safety. Several times he mentioned that he could get me food as he had an unlimited EBT card. I thought he was kidding but after the 10th time he insisted I relented and we went to get some groceries. 63$ worth of food, his card covered 61$ of it and the rest went into oblivion. Just like that I got sixty dollars worth of groceries for nothing, just as he does everyday, just as every native American gets for, well, being native American? (some people have limits, others get around 200$ a month in EBT on top of the 800$ monthly check). I think it's great that the government provides them with hundreds of thousands of dollars every month... After all we killed their buffalo and now the poor natives have nothing to eat right?
I continued east ward after that, camped out at another reservation and then got to Winner, SD. I had to get a motel room for the night as the rain was incredibly bad, my tent broke apart and my bike needed some maintenance. I managed to borrow a welder that evening and fixed my tent poles.
In the morning it was pouring out but the wind was from the NW at 20-30 with gusts to 50 so I decided to take advantage of it. To say I was getting blown all over the road would be an understatement. I ended up in the ditch twice and had to stop, hunker down with my brakes on and wait out a few northerly spells from Aeolus as it was just impossible to ride straight.
I was headed down the road when I saw a change of scenery up ahead. It looked wet. The trucks going the other direction from me were drenched, yet I was happy-go-lucky as it wasn't raining where I was. Well the hail started soon after, pelleting me with 1/4" size pebbles. It was hard to see and I decided to take shelter at the next place I could find. I came to what looked like some sort of lodge and pulled into the driveway in hopes of possibly hiding under the porch overhang until the cell passed. Before I even get off my bike the front door swung open and...
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
"Let's talk about a shitty product!"
On Saturday after leaving Lolo headed south I saw a gentleman around Stewartsville pulling into his driveway; I stopped and said Hi (he looked rather friendly).
I told him where I was going and he invited me into his house for a rest as he had done a couple months prior with a cyclist who was headed up to Alaska.
Hal turned out to be a very interesting person. He is a 78 year old widower who bakes bread for a hobby. If you ever see him on the street he will make a corny joke about how beautiful you are (if you're a girl) or how lucky you are to have that girl (if you're a guy), then ask you if you'd like to take some of his bread home with you. Pumpkin for 4$ or Banana for 6$, with or without nuts. Or you can have it for free. If this is the business practice all Montanans practice no wonder the state is in such a financial deficit.
Anyway, Hal is a retired door to door salesmen. He never liked to sell thing though, instead he would tell you about his product and you'd have to convince him that you want to buy it and will actually have a use for it. He never worked for money, simply for the joy of doing what he loved.
We talked a lot about God; not the God most people believe in (the same people who go to church, pretend to be spiritual for an hour and then go on screwing one another just as they've been doing an hour ago) but a spirit that exists in everything. Hal believes that spirit also has a path it guides you along, though never forcefully.
Ask a 78 year old about happiness and they will tell you that it's a decision you make; the secret to being happy is to simply: Be happy. Shrug off the negative influences of other people and stay true to who you are. You think you can't, you can you can't. It's all relative.
Hal seems to have a lot of trust and faith in people. He says that he loves everyone. I think that's something that people who live in cities loose very quickly on, innocence and faith. Again, I guess once you know this it depends on you whether you want to keep looking at people in a positive way or not. It's a conscious decision that is made just as doing this trip was for me.
A quote that I will remember Hal by is:
"When you love, Gods light shines on you."
That morning I was going to join Hal at church but had to get going back on the road since the skies cleared up. He let me go with one of his Pumpkin breads and the invitation to come and visit him any time I'd like. I truly hope that I do one day. For the one night that I stayed with Hal I got more insight into what life is truly about then I did in my 12 years of public education. Hal did make me realize a very important thing about myself though; how much anger I still hold inside.
In Natures Realm
Mike and myself hit the road on Wednesday after getting our shit together in Colton, Washington. It didn't look too promising that morning with 1/4" size hail falling and clouds moving in; Mike was even considering screwing the whole "let's bike together!" thing and just driving me as far east as he could but I stood my ground and before long we were crossing into Idaho (on bicycles). After a fast start and a 15 minute descent we headed east along the river with the weather starting to look up.
It was great to have some company along for the ride. Although Mike couldn't keep up with my high stamina and built up leg muscles I had no problem with waiting for him every few miles. We chatted about why I haven't been enjoying the ride recently and about how everything is ultimately up to you to decide. I realized once again how thankful I should be that I'm out here doing what I truly love. I also realized that if I do another extended bike tour I need to find someone to drag out with me.
Our goal was to get to Orofino, ID and camp out somewhere. Well we got to Orofino, but as soon as Mike saw the billboard "Best Western Hotel- Hot tub & full breakfast" camping was out of the question. We headed out for dinner around 9 only to have every restaurant door close right in front of us. The only place open had the shittiest pizza I have ever had in my life. The long (1/4 mile) walk back to the hotel proved to be too much for Mike so he tried paying one of the waiters to drive us back. It didn't work but we managed to make it back just fine.
It was a rather sad goodbye in the morning (Mike quoted some song from probably the 40's on his blog, brokenspoken.com ), but as we parted ways I just hoped that we will get a chance to meet up again in the future someday. Everyday is a good day.
Riding along the river that day was really spectacular. I got into Clearwater Nat. Forest and camped out right on the bank. A classical "In Natures Realm" played on the radio and I started to feel at peace once again.
I woke up that night to see about 10 cricket-looking bugs stuck on my tent with their bellies eaten/ emptied out. A huge yellow & black bug was deemed to be the culprit. Not wanting to have my belly eaten out I stayed in my tent.
It rained most of the next day yet I managed to get over Lolo Pass (5,200') and camped in a closed Nat. Forest campground after crossing into Montana. I tried making a fire to dry out my clothes but all the wood was soaked (by "making" I mean I put a whole bunch of twigs, logs & leaves into the fire pit, doused it with gasoline from my fuel bottle and lit it on fire) and after a few bursts of flame I gave up. Falling asleep I found myself amused by the whole situation.
With that I threw out my half- full cup of hot chocolate and a new sense of independence emerged. I felt really confident until I realized I left my water bottles back at the store.
Chief Joseph pass (7400') followed the next day and then into yet another valley (Big Hole) I descended. I camped at 7300' atop Big Hole pass, made pasta with salt for dinner and rice with sugar for breakfast. It got down to around -5° F that night.
On Tuesday I made my way to Dillon where Joe (the bike shop owner) came by just for me (as the shop was closed) and regressed my front hub as it was scaring all the cows away.
I went to Safeway and bought good bread, ham, lettuce, butter, candy, peanut butter and chocolate. It was sandwich time. That night I had the best meal in the long time. I even considered sending my stove back home and living off of ham- lettuce sandwiches for the next month.
Going through Nevada and Virginia city was pretty cool as they both had buildings that dated back to the Montana gold rush. Unfortunately everything was still closed "for the season". It's April silly people!
I descended into yet another valley in which I had to do 10 miles north and 60 miles south as that's how the *only* road went. I knew I was in for a ride when I didn't have to pedal to get to Ennis, instead the southern wind pushed me with quite some force. Well when I turned at Ennis and headed South (into a 30 mph headwind) it ended up taking me 6 hours to do 28 miles. Make no bones about it though, it wasn't raining, I was in shorts, and my lunch ham- lettuce sandwich tasted incredible once again!
It snowed that night as I camped at a BLM campground (for free! and legally as they don't start collecting fees until Mayday) though in the morning the wind shifted and I sailed south into West Yellowstone. My nose is so sunburnt I cant sneeze in fear of it falling of, my face is beet red from all the windburn and constant temperature change, my hands itch with sweat bubbles, and my ear is sunburnt to the point of not being able to sleep on my left side.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
F**k this $#!t
I haven't complained much in this blog nor had much to complain about on this trip. That changes with this post.
I remember one time when I got caught in a heavy downpour while biking to school. I got to my first class soaking wet, and by the time it was over I left a huge puddle around my seat. I went home after that, dried out, and flopped on the couch with a cup of tea. You can't really do that out on the road, instead you just leave huge puddles in every store you go into.
My memory is spotty at best of the past few days but I will try to remember the most epic fails and share them with you; in hopes of possibly convincing someone reading this in the future that the Northern Pacific coast is not ideal for biking in March.
I screamed a lot, I know that. I also sang obnoxiously loud, and thought about everything except what I was doing and feeling. My shoes got soaked several times and my feet froze. (Frostbite froze, not just cold froze) My rear tire was so worn that the inner tube started coming out. I broke a spoke and came inches from getting crushed between a guard rail and a semi truck, twice.
Heres a good story for you; I'm fixing my third flat of the day when my tire lever snapped after fighting with it for 10 minutes. I lost it (mentally) and chucked my wheel into the nearby woods. I screamed and cursed, then went into knee deep mud in search for it.
I spent 2 days in Tillamook watching TV at some great warmshowers.org hosts. I didn't want to think anymore. On the road I was going crazy with all the random thoughts popping into my head. Here's a 1 minute excerpt from my head:
What time is it? Why am I so cold? I wonder how they built that handrail. Is my giro guy (food vendor) still back in NY? I need to tell him about my tour when I get back. Yes! The rain stopped. Shit, no I didn't. Dammit I'm so sick of these cars! Whoooosh, whoooosh. Another hill?! Hsiejrhbdowudh. My hands are cold, these gloves obviously don't work. Can I eat my peanut butter sandwich now? NO! 2 more miles, c'mon man! I haven't seen the beach in hours, why is this called the coastal highway again? YES! A gas station just up the road. Let's go inside, spend money, screw my budget, and talk to the people inside for half an hour about my trip. That way I can cool off, get back on my bike and be super cold for an hour before I see another gas station and decide to do this all over again.
So what's next? A bus back to New York.
Just kidding.
I bought some new rain gear and met up with Mike from Vegas. We went to the Portland bike show, then up to Seattle and we are now on our way east to Pullman, WA, meaning I have cheated some 300 miles off the trip. I couldn't give a shit less.
My attitude? Yeah, it's quite different. I'm sick of this shit. It's the end of March and I got my annual spring fever. I though I wouldn't this time around being out on the road and all but the lack of sunlight and constant aggravation makes me feel like shit all the time. Does quitting and going home sound good? Nope. Does continuing sound good? Nope. So what sounds good? Nothing, that's the problem; nothing makes sense. Hence I shall continue with the hopes that all figures itself out soon.
Alright! That was some of my whining. I feel better now, ready to go out and cross the Rockies, then head into Yellowstone. I have about 39 days to do 2700 miles. If I make it to Yellowstone by months-end I should have plenty of time to finish.
P.S- If you checked out my new flickr photos you might notice that rain is absent in most of them. The reason? I don't take my camera out when its raining, hence you get photos from the 2 minute breaks I was so fortunate to receive between otherwise constant downpours.
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