Intermission - and now a word from our sponsors...

I am currently... at home.  So current location is our house on Big Tree Rd. in Neptune Beach.

I took some time on my rest day in Cape Girardeau to plan out the rest of my trip from there to home.  I figured it wold take me no more than 21 days to complete the ride.  Given the high heat and humidity I knew I would need to stay inside air conditioned spaces each night.  The route I was following did not go through populated areas so finding AC wold be hit or miss, mostly miss for the first week after MO.  I also will not rely on warm showers to provide a host when I would like one.  I actually had a potential host reply to me three weeks after I asked him and through our follow on message exchanges he essentially said he doesn't read email, and it was my fault I didn't contact him because I didn't text him.  He then had the temerity to ask me to do a review of him and include in my review his preferences for contacting him.  I will do the review but I need to write it and let it sit a few times because right now I am finding it challenging to be neutral.  Anyway, lesson learned that WS hosts can be wonderful people but the system itself is not reliable enough to plan a ride around.

The long range weather forecasts of apparent, real-feel temperatures being above 110 degrees, the paucity of places to stay, the lack of food sources along the way, and the continuing hilly terrain (the route did not follow the Mississippi River flood plain but instead went through hilly terrain like the Nachez Trace) all combined to let me know my ride was over for the summer.  Amy had the correct question for me, "will you regret not doing this all at once" and the answer has been a resounding No.  I can always go finish the ride when it cools down (current plan is to do so in October after I speak at a shipmates retirement ceremony), but it would be impossible to finish it if I suffered heat stroke along the way and passed out on some remote road with no shoulders and often drunk traffic.  The route maps I am following repeatedly described the routes with positive virtues like "limited services," "dogs frequently chase bicyclists," "remote roads with no shoulders, poor conditions, and blind hills and corners."  I got used to all of that, under the premise that I could find food and water and a place to get some AC at night.  Take away the AC and food and water and the ride becomes less appealing.  Unless you like real-feel temps of 110 degrees for days on end.  I do not.

So the current plan is to keep an eye on the long range forecasts and hurricane season and complete the ride when it makes sense to do so.  I started ridiculously early, a month by the comments of most everyone I met, so I could avoid the heat of summer.  To a person those I spoke about the weather with from ID to MO all said the same thing.  They went from winter to summer with no spring.  I am not complaining about it, it is just a fact and I adjusted my ride to match the facts.  If I were doing this for some more noble cause than my own selfish reasons I suppose I might think differently.  Like I said before, this really is a rather extreme or extravagant form of leisure time activity.

I must also apologize for an unintended gender stereotyping in a previous post.  When I commented about Mercury Marquis drivers I specifically commented on old men.  They day of and after I did that post two elderly women took it upon themselves to show me the error of my assumptions by doing the exact same kinds of things the men had done, buzz me at close distances and make it very clear I had no business being on their driving roads.  I am pleased to report that the gender of the driver for these kinds of cars is not the determinant, the fact any of them drive these cars is the prime factor.  I would also like to make it clear that these comments do not apply to the Mercury Marauder drivers.  That is a muscle car which appeals to a different driver.  I have had no issues with Marauder drivers. 

I do seriously appreciate all of the amazing comments and tremendous support.  I cleaned and serviced the Surly today so it will be ready when the weather cools down.  I am eager to get back out there and meet more of the people who celebrate our nation's birthday with good food with friends and family, a cool beverage of THEIR choice, and just maybe a couple of explosive devices - homemade or purchased. 

Be safe this week.  Now, I need to go write a warm showers host review...

Thank you, Ryan

This photo is of my brother and I as we were riding out of Jefferson City.  We are in front of the Lewis and Clark Core of Discovery monument.  I'm the old guy with the beard.

Family, Navy Family, and goodbye Missouri River

I've ridden 3,048 miles to arrive in Cape Girardeau, MO. After the Katy Trail the riding has continued to be filled with hills, intense heat and humidity, and dogs off leashes. No dog bites thus far thankfully.

My brother Mike did meet me in Jefferson City and we rode a little over 120 miles together along the quite fabulous Katy Trail, an old RR track converted into the longest rails to trails route in the US. As much as cities like Seattle and San Francisco like to tout their green-ness they can't hold a candle to this 200 mile plus long trail. It is smoothly paved in decomposed granite, and quite well maintained by local public and private groups. It is a destination trail for hundreds of cyclists, and well used by many of the local cities along the way to anchor local tourist spots.

Mike did a great job riding, considering he does not like road cycling as he currently lives in Denver and much prefers that area's exceptional downhill cycling options. Seeing his suffering reminded me of my first days, or weeks along the trail. It was wonderful to have someone to ride with though and we had time to talk about a host of issues. Considering how little we've seen each other since I graduated from high school it was a lot of conversational ground to cover. As different as we are, say like night and day, yin and yang, or anchovies and chocolate, we are family and it truly was great to see him.

The day before I arrived in Jeff City to meet my brother I got a call and text from a navy friend of mine, Carl who is going to pilot school in St. Louis. He and I met in Millington but served together in Bahrain and became good friends. He offered to put Mike and I up for the night so we rode a little beyond St. Charles and stayed with him. Mike got a room at a different hotel but it all worked out well as the hotels were adjacent to the airport Mike needed to fly out of. Mike left Monday and I rode on for a couple more days to Cape Girardeau to stay with the in laws of an officer I worked with at Fourth Fleet. The Herzbergers were a godsend after two more days of really intense heat and humidity, and hills. I had already planned a rest day with them and it was much needed. The forecast ahead is for many more days of heat and humidity combining to make temps feel like 110 degrees plus. Not exactly great riding weather for a guy prone to heat induced angioedema (my face and throat swell uncomfortably), and heat stress and heat stroke. The good news is I know when it is getting really dangerous as my heart rate rises to 250 plus (where my HR monitor would stop measuring) and I get dizzy. Both indications perfectly suited to riding along narrow, hilly roads without shoulders, and no cities of any substance.

The Herzbergers are gracious hosts and Paul can cook quite well. Carol introduced me to fresh Missouri peaches and I am afraid I must agree they were better than any Georgia peach I've had. The generally cooler weather in Missouri, than GA, tends to produce a more flavorful fruit. I realize this will cause some consternation amongst Georgia peach fans but if you haven't tried a Missouri peach you should.

The fourth of July is this week. If you have the time, I recommend taking a look at one of the founding documents this holiday is based on. Reading the Declaration is a good reminder of what the purpose was. As I catch more snippets of the news and see a congressperson recommending open harassment of public servants she disagrees with I am struck by the base level to which we have all allowed our discourse with others to fall to. I have been privileged to talk to people all across the political spectrum and I continually find our commonalities are much larger than our differences. Every time one group has demonized another during human history it has resulted in bloodshed on a grand scale. We can choose to be better than this.

I posited three purposes for this ride in my first post: determine what or who I am separate from the navy, and by extension what I should do after the navy; meet America's people, and the third which I did not state was to decide if the 29 years I served this country and her people was with it. Was it worth not being there for my family when they needed me, not being there for much of my daughter's life. The answer is a resounding yes. It is not, on the surface the same place it was when I joined but it is still the brightest beacon to freedom the world has ever known. I have regrettably met people along the way who believed in their hearts America is among the worst nations in the world. To them I simply offer you the freedom this country gave you too leave, right now, and go to whatever you think the better country is. Don't be a coward and condemn us all with your words only, take action and get out. We don't need you and I wish you every happiness. But, don't chickenshit it. Denounce your citizenship and go. I will hold the door for you.

For the rest of you, thank you for being American, whatever that means to you.

It's a small world, after all

I'm currently in Excelsior Springs, MO. I've ridden 2511 miles thus far. This Friday my brother will meet me in Jefferson City to ride with me over the weekend. We will ride a portion of the Katy Trail, a 165 mile rails to trails route along the MO River. I'm looking forward to it.

Two nights ago I was fortunate enough to stay with Matt and Jana in Atchison, KS. They are warm showers hosts. Matt is a professor at Benedictine College in Atchison, KS leading their program for special needs psychology. Jana is a union brick layer. They are an amazing couple. Obviously each new warm showers experience starts with the basics, who are you, why are you riding, what did or do you do. Matt asked me what I specifically did in the navy. He casually mentioned he has two young women in his program whose father is a navy guy too, last name of Hutchens. I asked him if perhaps their dad's first name was Mike, but he prefers Michael. Sure enough, their dad and I served together in Memphis. Matt thinks very highly of these two young women and asked me to make sure I passed it along to Michael. A friend of mine taught me that paying a compliment directly to someone is always nice, but we should always pay compliments about people to a third party as well. The idea is that we should pass how we fill about people beyond just our little circle of people. It was wonderful to hear that two children I've met are doing amazing things as they study how to help developmentally challenged people deal with their needs on a deeper level. Matt was also selected as the educator of the year last year by the students at the college. No surprise.

As great as that was, the best part of the evening was sitting around their dining room table talking about a host of topics, including politics. At the table were liberals, conservatives, and some Bernie support. Unfortunately these different tribes have become so polarized in their conversations that true discussions seem harder to have. We had a great conversation and Matt made a great point. The less Americans involve themselves in the political process, voting, town halls, etc., the more convinced we become of the correctness of our position. Conversely we become less willing to even listen to other's positions. American involvement in the entire political process is lower than at any point in our history. A concern the founding fathers had as well. I did not come away from the conversation a Hillary fan, but I better understand why some people would support her or Sanders.

It was a superb evening discussing far ranging topics and I was sorry it had to end. Another cyclist was there that night riding from St Louis to Astoria, OR. I've seen a few more riders but all heading the opposite way.

Last night I stayed at a historic hotel, The Elms. The first one was built in 1888. The first and second burned down in relatively quick succession. The current edifice was built in 1912 and is on the historic register. It is a beautiful building. Excelsior Springs is named after a natural spring high in manganese. The area has been famous for these being healing waters. Al Capone, Harry S. Truman, and other famous people have stayed here. It is a destination hotel and if you ever find yourself in western MO I highly recommend staying here. The only other place to stay was soundly recommended against by the police officer parked across the road from it. I'm glad I asked him.

This is the lobby. Each little tile was cut and laid by hand. Very impressive. The current owners are investing heavily in the already nice property to make it a true destination resort.

The riding for the last week has been... challenging to say the least. The temperature has been above 100 every day with very strong winds out of the southeast. I am of course heading southeast so I have enjoyed extreme temperatures and wind of at least 20mph gusting to 30mph. I haven't been able to see much of the country as the roads are narrow, lack shoulders, and are heavily trafficked. Drivers have been pretty good. But it still requires hard effort and very tight mental focus as wavering inches from my direction of travel puts me in traffic. I've already lost one pavement contest and care not to try it again. Anecdotally the only vehicle occupants who consistently express anger toward me are old guys in Mercury or Grand Marquis. They will consistently yell at me, loudly honk their horns, or buzz me as they drive by. Even if they are going in the opposite direction the make it known I have no business being on their roads. I fear these guys more than the big trucks, because at least the truck drivers will try to give me some room. I don't know why they are so angry, but they've certainly found the car they prefer so at least I always know.

I was going to include a different picture to capture my riding last week, but the hotel lobby is much nicer than the road kill raccoon the highway workers in Iowa painted the white shoulder stripe directly on top of, months ago, so now the raccoon and the stripe are greatly diminished. Nothing like workers who simply don't care about their work product. A comment I have talked about before.

I am well over half way now and looking forward to being home. My next rest day will be with the parents of one of my Fourth Fleet team in Cape Girardeau around the 28th. It will be my third and I'm looking forward to it.

As always, thank you for your support. It truly means more to me than I can thank you for.

Success or failure is measured in hundredths

I'm currently in Vermillion, SD, and I've ridden 2126.7 miles. Pretty close to half way done I think.

The title for this post came from my stop at Mac's gas station in Stephan, SD. Mac's is owned by Bob. Bob is in his early 80's probably and is the local seed guy for most of the farmers. Where most gas station/convenience stores have useless junk for sale next to the register, Bob has ear tags for calves. In many colors and sizes. As I ate my afternoon snack of a Dr. Pepper and some kind of hostess treats I listened to the other farmers come in and greet Bob. The conversation always started with some variation of "how many hundredths did you get Bob?" The first time Bob replied with "I got 25, you?" To which the other farmer said, "I got 45 hundredths." It took me a bit to figure out they were talking about rainfall amounts. For them, the scarcity of rain and the success or failure of their entire year's worth of crops is measured in hundredths. A little too much our too little can spell disaster for them. So the conversation always starts with the most important question. They don't say "how are you doing," as one's wellness is not self-centered, but harvest-centered. Most of the rest of us speak in terms of hundredths as it relates to sporting events we watch. But, let's face it, any sporting event we watch is really just a leisure time activity. Unless we have a gambling problem our wellness is not contingent on the outcome of some athletic endeavor. Even what I am doing on this ride is just a leisure time activity. I do not have to ride, I choose to do so. It was a good reminder that the food we can buy at any time we wish was contingent on some farmer betting his family's fortune on "hundredths."

I met two business owners whose stories I want to share briefly. The first is a family who owns the South Whitlock camp and RV park near Gettysburg, SD. The family started as farmers, raising cattle but it did not work out for them so they shifted to the RV place. Randy and Pat, along with their grown children Jessica and Derrick have operated the place for decades and it is an awesome place to camp. I paid 12 bucks for a spot with full services and it included the cleanest shower facility I've ever been in. Most federal campgrounds also have showers but they cost extra and are not kept up well. The pride this family took in what they offered was obvious. I arrived the day after a major storm with baseball sized hail had bitten through causing a lot of damage. They were already out there cleaning it up and making repairs. Most government campgrounds just closed of the damaged areas to be cleaned up later by the designated cleanup crew. Personal ownership and the pride therein was obvious to this family. I spent a good time chatting with Jessica and you can tell she is proud that this is her place, and the place her kids will eventually take over.

The second story is about Gallo's Mexican restaurant in Pierre (pronounced peer by the locals, not pee-air). I showed up at normal old person dining time and was the only one there. It had been recommended to me by the woman who works at the dam visitor center just outside of town. She said the food was authentic. The owner was there and he sat down to chat with me. Antonio Garcia is originally from Guadalajara, coming to Pierre by way of Federal Way, WA. He's worked pretty much in the restaurant business since coming to America and ended up in Pierre when a friend asked him to come help out in his Mexican restaurant, called Guadalajara. Go figure. The deal was if he helped his friends it then they would help him open his own place, which didn't happen. Antonio played professional futbol (soccer) in Mexico and his nickname was Gallo, rooster. This the name. He had to petition the Pierre city council to open the restaurant because as they pointed out, Pierre doesn't really need two Mexican restaurants. Antonio told them his goal was to be not just a restaurant, but to be the best one in the Midwest. In his third year he made it to the best 100 restaurants in the Midwest. He said his biggest problem is finding good workers, a comment I hear from a lot of people on my ride. I can say his Mole was superb, and he makes it fresh daily.

America is the best only when good people are willing to bet their well-being on hundredths, or being the best, and then pouring everything they have into achieving the best. The three encounters I shared above all have that common theme.

I can also tell you the doctor in Burke, SD is awesome at stitching people up. I stopped in Burke three days ago for a late breakfast snack - Dr. Pepper and a cruising covered sticky bun, and a banana. On my way out of town I stopped to adjust something, now forgotten and the wind blew me over before I could fully unclip from my pedals. On the way down to the pavement my right ankle ripped across the top of my pedal and carved out a dime sized chunk of skin down to the meaty part, and then lacerated my leg right on top of my achilles tendon. Fortunately there weren't any cars coming because it would have been heads, zero, big truck tires, one. Immediately after it happened a car did stop and ask if I was okay. To which I said yes, not knowing the extent of the damage. Fortunately another car stopped shortly after I assessed the damage and they found the hospital for me. They couldn't fit me into their vehicle so I one-leg pedaled to the clinic (only a couple miles back to town, thankfully). It was Sunday and the town doctor was already there having just finished another patient. She got me stitched up and I spent the night in a motel just outside of town. The wound is healing nicely and I've been able to get back on track with a 97 mile day yesterday.

I figure if this is the worst thing that happens I'm doing okay. Besides it was on my right ankle so it was nice to keep all the scars on the same leg...

Torture will

Closing in on Pierre, SD

Currently in "Whitlock" SD. I say currently because there really isn't a name for this place but I'm staying at the South Whitlock RV park. Which is awesome.

Total miles ridden: 1733. I finally sat down and went through all of my maps and did an exact total. Given some route options I've chosen I will end up riding closer to 4400 miles. So I'm well over a third of the way done and figure given my 60mpd average I'll be home around July 22. Give or take.

The riding has been mostly hot, windy, and hilly. There is something quite beautiful about north and south Dakota. The views are amazing, wildlife is plentiful, and you can see the curvature off of earth a lot as there aren't mountains to obstruct the view.

I am not meeting people as I had planned through warm showers. To be honest that has turned out to be a bust. I had four great hosts, but most people simply don't reply to requests. I suppose it is their way of avoiding saying No. Or they're just rude.

I have met some other awesome people though and one man probably did more to lift my spirits than I can ever thank him for. Kory Scanmon is a fourth generation farmer on his family's land. His grand daughter now lives on the farm so six generations of Scammons have cashed it home. They live in Wibaux, MT, which is just a few miles before I crossed the border into ND a week ago. I stopped for lunch in one of those brutally windy days when I just wanted to quit. Kory struck up a conversation with me and then joined me at my table. We talked about a lot of things, including his son who is a Chief Petty Officer stationed in HI.  Sometimes a simple hello makes a huge difference and his time saved my day. A couple hours later as I was riding along the highway a truck honked and stopped. I figured just another curious person. It has happened before. Nope, it was Kory, stopping to see if I wanted a ride to Dickinson, ND, which was about 50 miles away. I hated to say no but I would always know I didn't rude the full 100%. I would have enjoyed the additional time talking to a good man who made a huge difference in my day. There have been a few like Kory, who made a huge difference with a small gesture.

Funny enough, immediately after that the wind shifted and I had a tail wind for two days. The next day I rode 135 miles. My daily distance record. With a tail wind in excess of 25mph it was easy.

I have answered one of my questions on the road, I definitely want to work with other people, on a team. I like time to myself, but being a hermit is only for crabs.

Oh, and the Brookes saddle has finally become somewhat tolerable. Turns out it takes 500 miles per seating position and I have three: on the brake hoods, on the drops, and on the aero bars, so it took 500 for each of those as they are just different enough. My point is, if you choose to do something like this, buy one of those ergonomic saddles. There's a reason why Brookes haven't changed their design in over 100 years!!

Loops and swift horses are surer than lead

The title for this one is a bit odd, but will make sense shortly.

I am in Wolf Point, MT, having ridden 1,211 miles thus far. The last few days have all been in the true Big Sky country of Montana. It is so wide open I can literally see the curvature of the earth at times. The songbirds along the way are my constant companions now as guard rails are less needed given there are no hills to drive off of. But, to the people.

First was Jerry Smith of Galata, MT. His great grandmother came from Norway in 1903 at the age of 16 by herself and after a brief stop in ND, she headed to Galata in February of 1904 and staked her claim. Her Norwegian family still owns their land in Norway now and the families keep in touch. She was very successful and married another immigrant to the area. In 1915 she and her husband decided to go visit their family and her husband booked a trip on the fastest ship available. When she find out what ship it was she told him she had a bad feeling about it and made him book the transit on another ship. If you know anything about WWI and famous ships you are probably already there. The ship she said no to was the Lusitania, and it was on that trip the ship was sunk. There are several stories of people who did not get on that ship, but it is not for me to question his story. It is his family's story and has survived three generations of telling. These are the stories of America and her people and I love hearing them. He was a great guy and knew the history of Galata because it was his story. Besides, we watched the noon weather forecast together in his AC controlled convenience store on a very hot day, and I love watching the weather as much as any Montana farmer does.

Now to the title story.

I stop at every roadside historical marker I see. I have learned a lot, and anyone who knows me knows I love history. The best part is wondering what the story will be about: sheep massacres, Indian history, Montana cattle brands, train robberies like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid, whatever. This specific one is in Saco, MT. Before I got to Saco the only thing anyone had told me about it was the mosquitos are bad there. One woman in Harlem, MT stated she believed a prison for pedophiles should be put there with no place to get inside and all the inmates should be forced to wear nothing but Speedos. Anyway as I pulled up there were two men there talking about the marker, a large square cut monolith with plaques on each side. As I walked up one guy was explaining to the other that they cooked the bear and it tasted awful. If you Google the title for this post you will see a painting by Charlie Russell, famous western painter. The subject is of some cowboys catching and killing a bear using their lassos. As I was looking at the front plaque with a bunch of names on it one of the men pointed to a name and said "that's my grandfather." The name was Ray Campbell 'cook.' The man who told me was Kevin Campbell. His friend was Mike Smith. Kevin never knew his grandfather as he passed before Kevin was born, but his grandma Myrtle told him all the stories. Amy and I have been to the Amon Carter museum in Fort Worth, TX and have seen this painting. Russell took some liberties with the story to paint it but it really happened and Ray Campbell was there and did cook that bear. It was an amazing moment for me to have something I have seen brought to life by a very chance meeting alongside the road in Saco, MT. And that's why I ride. Kevin lives in Malta, MT just west of Saco and his history is also one of Norwegian ancestry. My people...

So instead of one of my pictures, go look up that painting. Even better, go see it in person. It is our story.

Finally, thank you all for the comments. They mean a lot to me on the road, especially on the many long days when I see nobody else and sleep in a small city's park.

Be blessed.

Continental Divide

This will be a relatively short post. Today I crossed the Continental Divide at Marias pass. The last two days of riding have been incredibly beautiful with amazing views of Glacier National Park. The road was fairly easy but again with narrow shoulders. Today I am in Cut Bank Montana. I have ridden a total of 860 miles. After I crossed the Continental Divide it was literally all downhill with a strong wind at my back. At times I could Coast at 15 to 17 miles an hour. I made it into Cut Bank and unfortunately the family that originally agreed to let me stay with them changed their plans. So I'm staying in a hotel.

Words really can't describe the amazing scenery that I saw the last 2 days. It was in some parts mind-boggling and mind-numbing. I suppose the best way to explain it is for you to just go see it yourself. I know that is a cop-out but there is no way with only one picture a day for me to convey all of the amazing scenery. I do however recommend that you drive through Glacier National Park. Riding a bike is really only for the insane.

So I got to wondering about the Bud Light beer cans alongside the road. I decided to start my own very unscientific study of the occurrence of Bud Light beer cans and bottles compared to all other types of beer cans and bottles. It was relatively a simple math count. For each Bud Light bottle or can I added one and for each can or bottle of any other kind of beer I subtracted one. The Bud Light bottles and cans were making a very strong presence. The last two miles into town all other beer cans and bottles finally pulled ahead the final count was Bud Light beer cans and bottles -3. I realize this proves nothing other than a way to occupy my mind for the last 20 miles into Cut Bank this afternoon. But at least it is one approach to determining if I was right regarding Bud Light cans and bottles being the most common thrown out of cars by people who are drinking and driving. At least in Montana. I do not plan to keep up the study throughout the remaining 4000 plus miles of my bike ride.

Random notes.
I mentioned before there are all kinds of things thrown out along the highways in America. I decided to keep two of them. One is a Batman ring. Obviously, because it's a Batman ring. The other thing which has come in very handy is one of those really ugly River guide hats. The ones with the large bill and the neck flap on the back. It has become a great find.

The picture below is kind of an obvious choice. It was a momentous and emotional moment for me. The bike has not told me how it felt.