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.

Dear Montana, and some random thoughts

I am currently in Whitefish, Montana. I've ridden just about 670 miles thus far. The people continue to be awesome. I stayed with a retired radiologist, turned professional violin maker and his RN wife in Sandpoint, ID. QZ and Mark were just simply wonderful. Mark worked a full career as a radiologist and then pursued his passion to be a violin maker with a four year degree from a college in salt lake city. His violins are simply beautiful and for someone like me who wants to work with wood it was awesome to share a passion. QZ had book club that night so I didn't get to spend as much time with her but what I did made it clear she is awesome too. Mark's 92 year old mom was visiting as well. Magnificent all!

Random thoughts from the road:
Metal guard rails are noisy. They are constantly pinging, singing, popping, and clanking as they warm up in the sun. They have become my constant companions so we spend a lot of time admiring each other. They overlap the rails so the overlap is always aligned to the direction of travel. This way if you hit them they don't impale the vehicle when they peel off. I wonder how long it took to figure this out. I don't however recommend you try to pay them as much attention as I do. I am already very close and personal, you do not wish to be.

The most common empty beer can, by far thrown on the side of highways is Bud Light. I have literally tracked a six pack as the occupants consumed it through some very hilly country here in Montana.

Rumble strips vary by state. WA and ID like them in the center. Montana only puts them on the shoulders (more about this in my letter too Montana). So now when I hear a rumble strip behind me I pucker up, really hard.

Montana has a non profit group who puts little metal crosses at every fatal traffic accident location, one per person killed. As a cyclist I do not enjoy seeing these. The roads are challenging enough without the constant reminder not everyone makes it home. Which brings me back to rumble strips. They need to be in the middle. I think this would help a lot to let drivers know they are crossing into oncoming traffic. Many of the fatalities are either head on, or deer related. Alcohol is a huge factor as I learned from the teacher/ EMT and his PA girlfriend I stayed with last night in Eureka, MT.

So, if you are tracking this, by luck I have only stayed with people in medical related fields of work. Not some master plan, just how it worked out. I've asked others to stay with them but thus far only the medical warmshowers people have replied. We'll see if it is a fact.

Dear Montana,
I have very much enjoyed your wonderful people, eye dropping scenery, and rolling, somewhat hilly terrain. You truly are Big Sky Country. But, you are small shoulder country too. I can only surmise that you despised 80's fashion and made it a part of your state ethic to oppose them in any way, including your roads. White painted stripes do not constitute what the rest of the country would consider a proper shoulder. Especially if the white stripe was once painted on the loose gravel residue of a shoulder. I propose we let bygones be bygones and recognize there is a place for shoulders in this world: ON THE SIDE OF HIGHWAYS!!

Tomorrow I will cross the Continental Divide at Marias Pass, and then it is mostly all down hill. I have averaged just about 55 miles per day, every day. I figure it will jump up to 70-80 when I am not going up hills at 3.5 mph. My beard is coming in nicely, and YES, I am enjoying myself a lot.

First ten days down

Hard to believe I am ten days and 549 miles into this, or about ten percent done. Currently staying with the dad of a CDR I worked with in my last job. I am in a beautiful location in eastern MT, Noxon. Staying here for an extra day to recuperate.
So, you want to know what it is like you ride a bike across America?
First, grab a piece of leather, soak it in salt water, wrap it around a small diameter piece of wood, then firmly smack it against your nether regions for about eight hours straight. This is the process of conditioning a Brookes leather sale to form to your backside. Thus far the saddle is winning.
Next, go stand at the edge of a road with a white stripe along it. Crouch into a bike riding position and walk along that road for two hours straight staring straight down. This is similar to riding up a mountain pass. I am sure the views are incredible but at my slow, wobbly pace this was my view up and over the passes in Washington.
Most importantly though, and the main reason for the ride are the people. I stayed with a couple in Republic, WA who are the third generation owners of the Republic Drug Store (the attached photo below). Patty and Rob are both pharmacists, and both grads from my alma mater, go Huskies. Rob's grandfather bought the store in 1903, and rebuilt it in 1918 after a fire destroyed most of downtown. Robs sister and her husband came over from Seattle and we had a lively discussion about salmon politics. If you have lived in Washington our Alaska you know how heated these discussions can be. The discussion we had was not heated but it certainly covered all of the various points of view. We had representatives for both of the main camps of thought and it was a great topic. Throughout the night the topics carried from one to another and it was a great insight into the realities of a business owner in small town America, also well traveled and interested in global realities. They were wonderful people, and I forgot to mention sockeye and pink salmon for dinner!!
The next group of people I want to talk about were the drug addicts I met at the visitors center in Tonasket WA. The center had a bike friendly spot behind the building, but when I arrived there were two men and one woman occupying it. It was sad to see they all looked like the faces of meth during and after photos. Although polite and informative the hunger for a fix was in their eyes. We chatted for a bit and I left to find a cheap motel room instead. I would like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt but when the drug takes ahold of someone they stop making good decisions and I didn't want to be one of their bad ones. When I left the next day I rode by and saw they were still there sleeping.
I have met lots of tremendous people along the way, and the final story is quick. I stopped in Newport, WA to get a hamburger after a very rainy ride. The McDonald's was closed for renovation so I stopped under the awning if the credit union next door, looking like a six fall tall wet rat. A man was waiting for his wife to come out and we started talking. His name is Ranger Rick, with 39 years as army medic and special forces. He and his wife hgav me some great info and then prayed over me. It was the exact thing I needed after a very lousy day.
Although very hard thus far the scenery has been beautiful and the people are amazing. What I am finding is we are all normal, and all unique. Big surprise I know. And yes, I needed to ride 5000 miles to figure out the obvious.
So, what hurts.
My butt pretty much always does. My hands are numb from holding the handlebars, and I finally figured out sunscreen is good on your legs too.
The really hard climbing is over. I have a few more days of smaller climbs through MT but after that my route maps don't even provide a vertical relief profile on them.
I don't regret a minute of it but (butt!) I am looking forward to some flatter territory.

Climbing over rainy pass, met some great people

For those of you who are still bothering to read this, thank you. For those of you who like statistics, here are a couple.
Total miles ridden: 246.
Total number of bugs that hit my head or face yesterday: 21
Maximum speed coming down the road from Loup Loup Pass: 41.9
I said I wasn't going to do statistics, but several of you asked for some indication of the numbers. I probably won't post number of bug hits again. I figure it will be a constant statistic and although amusing will become very boring. If there happens to be a spectacularly impressive bug hit, one which requires stopping and cleaning my face I will be sure to tell you.
On to some people I've met. First I'd like to talk generally about drivers on the road. Most drivers are very courteous and give me lots of room. I have come to associate a sound which as a driver is not good but as a bicycle Rider is very good. That is the sound of a car coming up behind me which crosses over into the other lane to give me lots of space. That is the sound of the wheels crossing the rumble strip in the center lane. This sound lets me know they have seen me and are going to give me space. When you are averaging 3 miles an hour up a hill it becomes a very comforting sound. The alternative are those people who choose to stay right in their Lane and give me no space. That rumble strips sound is exactly what I like to hear. Another point for drivers, when you see a wide shoulder and wonder why the bicycle Rider is not using it, it is because it is covered with all kinds of debris. I have come to believe I could build anything on the face of this planet simply by collecting debris from the side of the road. So drivers are in general the first group of nice people I've met.
Now to individual people. Unintentionally I rode twice as far 2 days ago as I had planned to. Instead of stopping somewhere short of Rainy pass I ended up doing all of Rainy and Washington passes. This was the first day this season the pass was open to any traffic. When I rolled into town later that night after 12 hours on the bike I was exhausted. The tank as they say was on empty. The town I came in to was Winthrop Washington. Just before town is a wonderful couple named Jim and Karen. They operate a camp just for bicyclists. They have been doing it for many years. It offers a place to pitch a tent, take a hot shower with a solar and gas-fired still, and use a regular toilet one sits on, vice finding a bush along the side of the road. After the very long and arduous day I had had it was wonderful to meet a couple who share what the have. They both informed me that I was by far the earliest across the pass bicycle Rider they had seen, by nearly a month. I had not intended to be the first and certainly not by a month. I kept wondering as I left Oak Harbor Washington and started on the main bicycle route why I didn't see any other bicycle Riders. It is because they all have brains that function properly.
The next morning I rode into Winthrop. The place was very busy with their annual celebration called 49ers days. This is an annual celebration they have been doing since 1945. They have a parade and Cowboys and everybody comes from far around to spend the weekend in Winthrop. I stopped to have breakfast at a place called three fingered Jack's. It was packed. A couple was sitting at a table for 5 and was just getting ready to leave. They let me sit with them and after they departed I asked the next two couples who came in if they wanted to sit with me. I would look rather silly hogging a whole table for five people. First I met Judy and Jeff. They had driven over from Spokane Washington to celebrate the parade and festivities. Judy and Jeff had not originally been married to each other. They had actually married a brother and sister and had become good friends. Unfortunately both that brother and sister had passed away from cancer. So Jeff and Judy after many years of wonderful friendship, and the loss of dear loved ones decided to get married. Jeff had been a Navy SEAL and retired as a chief petty officer. His first Tour of Duty was in Vietnam and he lost his entire Squad in a firefight. It was obvious to see how much he loved those men and how much he had loved the Navy through his 22-year career. Judy is an artist and she paints in acrylic and pastels. As I was leaving to use the restroom and when I returned Jeff had already paid my bill. The next couple to sit down was Jason and Toni. They were both from Everett Washington and head come over to camp for the weekend. Jason had served four years in the army as an infantryman and as a mortarman. Toni

was his girlfriend and it was obvious they were going to end up married. They had a natural ease with each other.
So as I said the point of my blog and a big portion of this trip is to meet people who have not been in the military. I do believe God puts people in our path who we need to meet. So when you are by yourself and he gives you a table for 5 ask for others to join you. You will not regret it.
The picture of me was taken as I came over rainy pass. It is boring, but probably one of those mandatory photos.

Mike Merikle, first day, pic is not of Mike

Just a quick note to mark the fact I left oak harbor and started east. The pass I had to wait for will open this Friday, about the same time I get there our maybe a day before.
Mike is an old shipmate of my father in law. He spends just about every day riding around Whidbey island. Chip told me to look out for him and I saw him on my test ride yesterday. We chatted briefly and he gave more some encouraging words to ride with. Considering he is probably 75 and is still riding, A LOT, he probably knows what he is talking about.
The picture is of Washington's state mascot, the slug. It was making high speed toward my shoe before I started my ride yesterday and given I am only taking one picture per day this is the one you get. Today's picture is of me riding across Deception Pass bridge. A very normal and boring selfy so I will not share it. Everyone who did this ride has that picture. It looks like me, riding across a bridge. Use your imagination if need be. I was clothed so try not to imagine it otherwise.

The back story to my bicycle ride across the USA.

Yes, another blog about a guy riding his bicycle across America.

Dear Friends and Family, or anyone else who wanders across this,

I recently retired from the Navy after 29+ years of active duty service.  Counting time in NJROTC and ROTC in college I have worn a Navy uniform since 1980 with the exception of one year in High School when my family moved to WA (the state, not D.C.).  Having spoken with a lot of people who left the Navy because they wanted to, or were told to go the main thing I discovered was the need to develop a personal transition plan.  You also need a professional plan but I am not there yet.  That will happen when I complete this ride and need to find a job, or drive my wife nuts being home all day.

For me, the ride across America on a bicycle is the way to personally transition.  Many have asked why, usually looking at me like I have a grasshopper stuck to my forehead or they just come right out and say I am crazy.  The Forrest Gump references are all appreciated, each and every time I hear it.

Why am I doing this:
Because I have almost 38 years wearing a uniform.  I need to take off that armor and prepare to deal with the world without it on.
I want to meet the 99.5% of Americans (or at least a subset of them) who have never served in the military. 
I want to see places in America I have never been to before.
And finally, there is one reason I may share when I get back. 

Where am I riding?
I will start in Oak Harbor, WA next week at my in-laws' home and follow four AdventureCycling.org routes: Northern Tier, Lewis and Clark, Underground Railroad, and Southern Tier.  The easiest way to explain it is two rights, then two lefts.  I will officially start the route in Anacortes, WA and from there ride east until Bismarck, ND.  I will take my first right there and follow the Missouri River, then another right at the Mississippi River, thence south to Pensacola, FL, take a left at P-Cola, then another left at St. Augustine, FL, and end up back here at Neptune Beach, FL.  So two rights, then two lefts, then home.  Calculated distance is about 4,800 miles.  I figure I will do something in excess of 5,000 miles with side trips, etc.  It will take as long as it takes. I'm retired remember.

My personal rules:
I will not bore you with updates about the scenery, or miles ridden each day, or pictures of sunsets I take along the way.  There are lots of great blogs about those kinds of rides.  You can check out several on CrazyGuyonaBike.  I have promised my wife a proof of life check every day when I stop.  I will not be trackable on some kind of GPS device updated to the cloud. 
I will take one picture a day.  With one exception below.  I am doing this because I first wanted to do this when I was ten years old in 1976 during the BikeCentennial.  Therefor I am largely treating it as though I did the ride back then, and back then we didn't have digital cameras loaded with photos we never look at again other than to bore to tears people we think need to see how much better our life is than theirs. 
I am not using a GPS device loaded with map software.  I am using an old-fashioned bike computer and a bunch of maps from AdventureCycling.
I plan to sleep in a tent, stay with people I meet, use WarmShowers hospitality, and occasionally rent a motel room for the night.
I will blog about the people I meet along the way, with their permission.  Once a week I plan to stop and force myself to meet someone unlike me to get to know their story.  If they allow me, I will share it with you.  The main point of this is for me to get to know that other 99.5%.  I am excited about it.

What can you do for me?
Pray for me. Seriously.  But I want you to pray that God uses me to fulfill His will.  I am not asking you to pray for my safety.  Safety means I may not be put in situations to meet people and get to know God's creation the way I think He wants me to.  So pray that he would use me to fulfill His will.  I do not plan to be reckless.  I have a family I love and I plan to rejoin them at the end of this ride.

Support an organization of your choice helping wounded veterans.  Team Red, White, and Blue is a personal favorite of mine.  Wounded Warrior is based here in Jacksonville and is doing some great things.  Or, pick one of your favorites and donate your time, talent, and money.

So, why ride instead of hiking the AT, or climbing a mountain, or going on a retreat of some kind?  Because I am a bicycle rider - a pedaling man.  A bike has always meant freedom to me.  Some people are runners, golfers, gamblers, volunteers, etc. 

I ride.