Life Spoke

I'm here! Sorry to keep you all waiting. Comments wondering where I am and people asking Tracey to urge me to update. I haven't seen a computer until today so here goes:

I'm in Denver! Through the Rockies and on the edge of the plains. I'm so psyched. Really healthy, great spirits, feeling strong.

I'll be in Denver for a few days getting some rest and hanging with my friends Chris and Kelli. Looking forward to hooking up with other friends in the area while I'm here.

The weather last week was phenomenal. If I had left a week earlier I would have been riding through 10-12 inches of snow. Most of Wyoming was blanketed the week before I rode through. Your prayers are paying off and my good fortune has held strong.

I feel as if this week has been a turning point in this trip. I have become used to the travelling and the constant shuffle. My health is great and I'm excited for the next phase of this trip.

The wind in Wyoming is no joke. Almost everyday it was gusting up to 25 mph with steady 10-15 breezes coming out of the southwest. I followed the Oregon Trail through much of the State and saw some of the landmarks that I've been enchanted by since boyhood.

Met some awesome people too. I only had to cook dinner a few times because people either paid for my meals or asked me to join them in their own dinners.


Chronologically:
9/26, Kemmerer, WY. Rest day and the site of my last update. Lester and Kay Fatheree took me out to dinner in Kimmer and Lester spoke to me about Jesus and fellowship. They're a dedicated couple. Lester's biggest compliments are along the lines of, "Gee, you're not like any other Pastor I've ever met." I had a great time with them. Kay wrote an article on me for their local paper and is sending a copy to Tracey; should be cool to read it when I'm done.

Wednesday, 9/27:
Left Kimmer heading east. Rode through the Western Wyoming oil fields past a huge Exxon refinery. There are miles of new pipeline being installed in the desert out there. Hundreds of trucks hauling 36" pipe and crews scattered in the distance. It's amazing to see an oil field and I now know why it's so imperative to keep our Alaskan wilderness intact. An oil field isn't just a couple holes punched in the ground with pipes running to a collection facility. There are literally hundreds and hundreds of tanks scattered as far as the eye can see spaced 1/4 mile apart. Roads cris-cross the terrain and pumping stations pop up over every hill it seems.


The Exxon refinery produces something like 3/4 of the U.S. hydrogen. It looks the same as one of the refiners you'd see near Newark, NJ along the Turnpike. The big difference is that it is out in the high desert. It looked so out of place amidst the terrain that pioneers once drove wagons through. It's hard to accept when you see it but logically you know it supports our economy and bolsters the happy easy life we live in the U.S. I encourage you to do your own research and make your own judgments on this stuff. In a way, having it out in the high desert isn't such a bad place because the land is a barren place. I hope that doesn't negate the need to be good stewards of the environment.

The biking:
Tail winds most of the time. I saw some Oregon Trail ruts and stopped at all the 'Point(s) of Interest'. Learned about death on the trail. Imagine leaving a dead child or spouse buried in a shallow grave beside a trail, never to be able to visit them as you mourn in the aftermath. You had to keep going or you would surely perish there as well. It's dry and hot in the sun. It must have been brutal on the livestock and the oxen pulling the wagons.

I arrived in Farson, WY at about 4pm and camped in an RV lot. There was an ice cream store that I couldn't resist. After I chowed down I was leaving and grabbed my handlebars. I felt a prink and reached down to pull out a yellow-jacket stinger. I put ice on it later and the swelling went down.

The earplugs were crucial because the truck traffic servicing the oil boom was constant throughout the night. I also discovered that my leaking water bladder had defied my attempts to repair it. The sleeping bag was wet when I got there and I dried it in the windy sunshine. I doped it up with Superglue but it wouldn't hold.
Daily: 75 miles at 15.2 mph avg.

Thursday, 9/28:
I bought a tall, skinny Gatorade bottle that fits in the bottle holder on the bike. From here on I used one water bottle with water and the other with Gatorade. I would stop every other hour and refill the bottles, mixing Gatorade powder into one of them. As I rode I took a swig from each and did pretty well staying hydrated. Still it was a pain not to have that 1/2-gallon bladder.


From Farson I could see the Wind River Mountains. I rode east on Hwy 28 and the mountains slowly got closer as I ascended. One big hill at South Pass and next thing I knew there was a sign for the Continental Divide. 7550 feet! I screamed and yelled, giddy with excitement. Totally not expecting to see that sign at the top of the hill. I really hoped that someone would stop to take a picture of the crazy lunatic with the bike that was dancing around on the side of the road near the sign for the Divide. No one did, so I took one of myself. I was soooooo so happy.

Rolling hills at 7500 feet until I reached the pull-off for South Pass City. Two miles of packed dirt road led me to the historic mining town that was the first place in the country to give women equal voting rights. If you travel this way, be sure to take the time and visit the historic town, it's really cool.

The food box was waiting for me there. I had Tracey send it to South Pass because I thought it made sense to pick up the 20 pounds of food after I had climbed up there, rather than hauling it up myself. Thank you US Postal Service!

I rode over to Atlantic City, which is nothing like the one on the Jersey Shore. This is another old gold mining town. Many people still own claims and gold is still be panned out of the stream. The history is typical boom/bust cycle with iron ore the most recent commodity. Lots of history here as well, so if you head to South Pass ride the extra few miles over to see Atlantic City as well.
Plus the scenery is beautiful. Rolling hills with aspen trees lining the bottoms of the draws and spruce trees dotting the hillsides. It's fall weather up there now, so the aspens were yellow and orange. Potpourri of decaying leaves and evergreens in the cool piercing light of sunset.

I camped at a BLM campground at 8000 feet. The camp host told me the week before there had been 12 inches of snow on the ground.
Daily, 53 miles at 11.8 mph avg. Continental Divide!

Friday, 9/29:
No frost overnight, very happy about that. Wasn't cold at night, even happier. Oatmeal, filled water and was out.

The night at 8000 feet had acclimatized me well and the riding, though hilly wasn't too difficult. I began to feel very strong this day.

Red Canyon appeared on my left as I coasted downhill. It's a beautiful rift of red sandstone similar to what you'd see in Utah. 6% downhill grade I was flying at 48 mph but had to slow down because a big truck was riding his brakes. I could have gone faster and really wanted to but there was no way I was going to pass the truck on a downgrade.

Just shy of Lander I turned right on Hwy 287/789. A big uphill - 6% grade for five miles. Though I felt strong, it really took alot out of me and I rested for a long time at the top. These hills were a reverse of what I wanted; a big climb followed by the reward of a big drop, oh well.

I saw a badger on the side of the road. It came into the shoulder, saw me, flipped around ran back to the sagebrush and turned to glare at me. It was a beautiful animal but definitely had that, "don't mess with me," look.

Luckily, I had a tailwind that helped me for 35 more miles into Jeffery City. This is another boom/bust town. Between '77 and '83 there were as many as 2000 people living here working in the uranium mines. I guess our nuclear power was firmly established and the mines closed down. Now there are probably 20 people eking out a living in the modern ghost town.

In town met Roger and Scott Miller who had been fishing all day. They invited me to camp with them at the abandoned Lion's Club and they fed me all the rainbow trout I could eat with potatoes and beans. We had a nice evening talking in the sand outside their Winnebago. They live in Cheyenne and came up to fish and hunt elk.

Daily, 70.5 miles, 12.8 mph avg, 48 mph top speed!

Saturday, 9/30:
Southwest on Hwy 287. The wind started out of the southwest and I fought across it for most of the morning. Made it to Muddy Gap, "the cleanest bathroom in Wyoming." The owner is a really nice guy, stop and buy a snack if you go through.

Turned northeast on Hwy 220 and got pushed along to Independence Rock. This was a highlight. The rock isn't spectacular in any way except that it was a waypoint to mark time and passage. If they got here by July 4th (Independence Day) they knew they were on track to get to Oregon before the snows. There are tons of names etched into the rock but erosion and vandalism have removed most of the names prior to 1920. I hiked to the top and sat for a while soaking up the sun and the wind.

Another 20 miles and a swift downhill into Alcova, WY. It was a Saturday evening and the campsite was teaming with fishermen. I met some really nice people and hung out with Matt, Andrew and Brian from Boulder, CO.

Daily, 79 miles, 14.2 mph avg.

Sunday, October 1:
Oatmeal and packed up, on the road a little late at 8:30. I turned right on Hwy 487. The southwest wind was fierce this first day of October. I stopped every 10 miles to rest and eat. One big uphill but the road had taken an easterly turn and the wind was at my back for a short time, helping.

I rode into the Shirley Basin heading south. This was the hardest part of the trip through Wyoming. The wind was coming into my face at 20 mph with monstrous gusts. It didn't take long to personify it into a living thing that was purposefully tormenting me. I bared my teeth into it. I hunched down away from it when it struck in a blast. I even screamed into it in frustration. It was eroding my psyche. I stopped for a long while and talked to myself. "You can't control this. Just get on and take your time, any progress is still progress." Tunes would help so I changed disks and turned up the volume to full. Pearl Jam and Pink Floyd with Crosby and Stills thrown in.

The wind was sucking the water out of me and I had 30 miles to go before I hit a town. A truck pulling a boat stopped and it happened to be Jeff from Fort Collins, who I'd met at the campsite in Alcova. He hooked me up with enough water to get me through and encouraged me that the wind would settle down as evening set in.

I pounded water and struck out in a fast spin. The wind didn't die much but I was energized to push through. Every time I needed to stop I would look at the odometer and ride until it came to an even mile number...pushing myself to get one more tenth in for that burn.

The clouds had set in but the sun was slicing through from the west and the landscape was on fire. One short downhill coast at mile 75 with only 8 miles to get to town. This picture was taken at about mile 78 or so, the light was perfect.

I rolled into Medicine Bow with my jaw hanging slack thinking of nothing but cheeseburgers and fries and baked potatoes with gravy and sour cream and pie and chocolate milk. I hit Hwy 287 and turned left to the Virginian Hotel. I staggered in and must have look trashed. It was 7 o'clock at night and dark had started to close in outside.

The cook for the evening, Valerie Cowen was so impressed by my effort that she paid for my dinner - double bacon cheeseburger dripping with ketchup and mayo, three rounds at the salad bar, two glasses of chocolate milk and a baked potato smothered in gravy and sour cream. Fat and happy, coma setting in.

The rooms at the Virginian were only $27 and I really couldn't think of heading out into the cold wind to set up camp on the edge of town. I paid, took a long hot bath and slept like a rock.

Daily, 83.5 miles 11.1 mph avg.


Monday, 10/2:
I slept in. Got up late, ate pancakes, eggs, toast, sausages and coffee. I got a chance to look around the Virginian Hotel. It was built in 1910 and is the kind of place you expect to see Wild Bill Hickok slammin' shots of rye whisky. It conjures thoughts of six shooters tied low and the jingle of spurs, the clomp of cowboy boots. The bathrooms have only old bathtubs and they are located along the hallway, not in the rooms themselves.

I lugged the bike down the stairs wearing my spandex and must have been a sight for the other lodgers. I hit the road at 10 am.

It was an unremarkable day for the most part. Though I did stop in Rock River and overheard the war stories of the first day of elk season. The day before, dudes were driving around with rifles on the seats of their pickups while I was snarling at a wind that didn't know me from a fence post. It was good hunt.

I came into Laramie, Wyoming around 4 pm. Traffic again. I hadn't seen a stop light in a week. I craved fast food and I knew this town was big enough to have some. Sure enough, near the University of Wyoming there is a strip on Grant St. where you can get any kind of American heart attack special you're looking for. I sat in Taco Bell writing post cards and waited for a call from a friend.

Kristen and Grant live in Laramie and were happy to let me stay with them. They are friends through another friend and are very down to earth people. We got along immediately. Kristen works with special ed. kids in high school and gets to go to immersion classes with them. I think it would be cool in a way to go back to high school classes as an adult just to see what it's like. Maybe I could retain some of the stuff now that I'm older! :)

Grant is a geologist working for an environmental firm. We talked shop on ground water flow, drilling test wells and taking soil samples. He made stuffed chicken breasts using Stove-Top and it was delicious.

It turns out that I broke a spoke on the ride over to their house. After dinner I took the rear wheel apart and changed out the spoke, put the tire on and trued the wheel back to straight.

Daily, 60 miles, 14 mph avg.

Tuesday, 10/3:
Rain overnight, I was glad to have spent the night indoors. The rear wheel had a flat. I hadn't had a flat the entire trip until this point. The night before I knew that when I broke the seal between the tube and the tire that any punctures would turn up...and one did. I changed it out and left town at 8am.

Cold wind in my face for the morning but it didn't bother me - I was on my way out of the Rockies and about to get a few days rest. I crested a long climb south of Tie Siding on Hwy 287. Colorado opened up before my eyes and sped downhill at 47 mph!

I had more energy this day than ever before. It was combination of knowing I was going to see some friends, getting into a new state and looking forward to time off from biking. The miles sailed by as I coasted from Laramie's elevation of 7000 feet to Fort Collins at 5000 feet. I was almost sprinting as I hit the flats on the western edge of town.

I arrived at Amy and Mike's house in Fort Collins at 2pm, having rode 66 miles at 15.6 mph average.

Oh friends. Good people I knew, familiar faces and warm embraces. My friend Chris drove up from Denver wearing a huge grin.

So I'm here in downtown Denver in Chris and Kelli's apartment. I made it! One third of the way with the Rockies under my belt. I'm at the lowest elevation I've been at in two weeks. I can't even do justice to the elation I feel right now.

It's strange too being here in Denver because I've been here before but have always driven or flown in. I JUST RODE MY BIKE FROM THE PACIFIC OCEAN TO DENVER!!!!!!! It feels good.

So I'm on my way to drop the bike off at REI to get a tune up. The rear wheel tread is getting thin so I'll rotate the tires. I need another spare spoke to replace the one I used the other day and a new tube. I also need a new water bladder and a water bottle holder (one broke the first week).

I'll be here until Friday. I plan to leave from Fort Collins on Saturday morning on Hwy 14 and head east toward Nebraska. On the plains. New terrain.

From here I head toward Chicago to visit my brother, his girlfriend and my nephew.

I hope to get the route together and post it online so you can follow me on a map.

The comments this time were awesome! Thanks everyone. If you don't want to log in and make an account to comment, just make your comment and put your name at the end, then send it in as 'anonymous'.
Lots of love,
Andrew