Mississippi Rollers

We decided to hit Elkader town for breakfast, only it was Sunday which meant we had stumped ourselves with an unusually early start because everything was closed until 9am, gas station it was. Shame too because it was a really nice place, we both spent 10 minutes just riding up and down the streets looking around, its the closest town to Yarm I have found in the US.

We hit some rolling hills before descending down towards the Mississippi which we will follow north for a few days. It was great riding and unexpectedly beautiful. Most people will normally associate this river with the south but up here its just as glorious and alive with tons of cool little river towns and bustling train lines giving the area a unique vibe.

We met a fellow cyclist called Wilson during the day who had been riding since January with his dog, he was a nice enough guy but seemed to be on a very tight budget so most of our advice on places to stop he disregarded as too expensive. He seemed almost genuinely homeless on a bicycle, but was a little hard to figure out. I wasn’t sure how to feel about his dog either, it was cute but the dog seemed lifeless, he was just sat back on his rear rack probably for 8 hours everyday.

Anyways we made it a good 80 miles along the river to a nice campground in Brownsville just over the Minnesota border, another state!

The mist blanketing the Mississippi early this morning was magical if a little erie. It would make riding along a narrow shoulder a little awkward so we ducked in a cafe for breakfast to let the sun burn through. I quickly noted the change in accent. Everybody was finishing sentences with “oh yah, oh yah, oof da.” The days destination was a warmshowers host in Wabasha, however as with our host Kyler a few weeks ago, Terry was not going to be home but told us he had a poolhouse with a fridge stocked with beer, wine and soda which he would leave open for us to let ourselves in, he also mentioned a hot tub, swimming pool and told us to make ourselves at home! Too good to be true.

The riding continuously tuck us up away from the river onto the bluffs but neither of us minded the climbing as each was rewarded with great overlooks of the river. As we arrived in Wabasha we navigated to Terry’s house on the loose directions he had provided and on finding his spot we walked around the back to the poolhouse he had told us of and the stocked fridge, pool, tub…amazing, not only that but his back decking literally hung over the Mississippi!

After cooking up dinner I started eyeing up the hot tub, it was all covered up and I was unsure how to work it. One can of beer later I was ready to have a shot at it, so I uncovered the tub, pressed some jet buttons, turned on the lights and upped the heat, now we’re bubbling! Me and Eal grabbed a beer each and hopped in stilling grinning ear to ear at our luck, how did we end up here this evening? Minutes later a bunch more people showed up, 2 gals and a guy. The girls were kayaking the river and the guy Paul was from England and he was going down river on a raft he built himself! The neighbours all know Terry and after seeing this guys pull into harbour earlier that evening had agreed to let the girls and Paul stay over after Terry said it was fine over the phone, although a little bummed he was missing the party! We must have sat in the tub till about 1am drinking beers and trading stories, a great time.



I woke as soon as the sun came up as did Paul and Eal given we failed to close the blinds in the poolhouse which apparently doubled as an oven, it was hot, bright and I was dried mouthed with a mild to good hangover. Me and eal rolled into town to score breakfast then hit the gas station to buy a crate of beers to re-stock Terry’s fridge supply which had been severely dented the previous night. We rolled down towards Pauls raft, which we saw but sadly he wasn’t around at the time to say goodbye, awesome guy though, even better adventure!

We took it leisurely, nursing our hangovers and still trying to make sense of how last night turned out. We crossed, for a short while, into Wisconsin before hopping back over to Minnesota and making good progress towards Minneapolis so we could arrive early tomorrow and spend some time in the city before staying with Elsie Hanning. She is the sister of Cooper Hanning who I met in Virginia back in 2010 and rode with for several weeks, she had agreed to put us up for the night, hero!

Finishing the ride to Minneapolis the following day was made easy by the fantastic bike network in and around the twin cities area. We first stopped at the Town Wall Brewery as recommended by Elsie before taking in some of the sights such as Stone arch bridge and Target field before making our way to Elsie’s apartment after she had finished work.

She played the perfect host, cooked us up some great grub and drove us around to show us uptown and visit Yoghurt Lab, a great idea best described as a pick n mix version of ice cream and toppings. I’m stealing the idea for Australia and agreed to share the spoils with Elsie. We ended the night catching up on some more Olympic action and looking at pictures of Cooper whilst Elsie told us stories from their youth, including some amusing camping trips in  North Dakota where we are headed. Thanks for a great night Elsie, true trail angel.

Ice cream with Elsie at Yoghurt Lab.

 

City Park Life

The Odell park treat us well that evening despite somebody the previous evening telling us some cyclists had there gear set on fire by some unruly youth recently. We met another westbounder outside the gas station who was heading to see his son in Iowa, he was riding a recumbent and we shared Indiana dog stories before setting out ahead of him. Arriving in Henry, IL to mid afternoon highs of around 95F we hit up the visitor centre where the friendly old ladies asked us to sign the guestbook before ringing the sheriff to verify we were ok to camp for free in the city park by the river. Heading up to the local dairy queen to get and ice cream fix the sheriff was just coming out and clocked who we were straight away. He shook our hands and said a squad car would check up on us throughout the night. It was a nice quiet little town but we did observe what appeared to be some teenagers scoring drugs by the park swings of and older guy in a clapped out car.

I failed to take a single picture between Henry and Orion, IL. Not that it was dull I just enjoyed the riding and then it was over! We did meet two more westbrounders, Jakob from Germany who leaves the northern tier in a few days and also Flavia who is heading all the way to Seattle on the northern tier, no doubt we will ride with her at some point, but for that evening they had a warmshowers host lined up in Cambridge whilst we headed a little farther to camping at a golf resort.

It was time for another change of state as we headed towards Iowa and over the  Mississippi river. The riding took us through some impossibly small towns all of which still had thriving little libraries though which was nice to see. It was another hot one in the heart of farm country. We saw a plane looping back and forth over and isolated field spraying something over the crops each time he passed over as low as possible. State border crossings always alert us to the fact alcohol laws may change, so its always a relief to see branded beer neon signs in store windows. We scored a motel on the edge of Muscatine in the hope we might finally catch some Olympic action. We spent most of the afternoon watching various events, the coverage is obviously tailored to the american athletes events so the only brits we saw were the kayakers winning Gold and Silver, good job!


Muscatine to Cascade was an uneventful if hilly ride, Eastern Iowa is the one terrain exception in this area of the country, its rolling and nothing overly steep but more than a workout than we have had in the past couple of weeks for sure. Upon arrival in the cute town of Cascade we located the sheriff and checked in camping by the ballpark which he said was fine and gave us some directions, nice spot and another free camp. The city pool once again provided the daily shower.

Leaving Cascade the next morning there were flags blanketing every street corner, it was a Saturday and many locals were out setting up chairs in the town square. We learnt some recent military causalities in Afghanistan were Cascade locals who were being remembered this weekend. I tried to take us on what seemed like an obvious short cut that soon led to a gravel road which a another cyclist then told us was impassable, so back we turned after adding an extra 4 miles to our daily total.

Midway through the ride a signpost pointed us to the “Field of Dreams movie set”. We couldn’t pass up seeing a piece of movie history from our childhood so rolled down the farm road to find, field, baseball diamond and house all still persevered from the film. It was light-hearted with other tourists taking up the plate to get their picture taken swinging a bat, but the sky began to turn black and looked pretty menacing so we hit the road again.

We passed by the town of Dyersville with the clouds still holding but the situation was looking increasingly bleak. It was stick or twist to the next town which was another 14 miles. We decided to twist, just 5 miles in the first forks of lightning began to spark down in the distance. We picked up the pace to the point at which we were both stood up riding as hard as ever as the bolts started to strike closer, accompanied by shotgun like blasts every time they struck down. Finally reaching the town of Petersburg as the storm hit town we ducked inside The Detour bar. It was 2pm and the locals were already wasted but still friendly enough to buy us dinner and some beers, it was a great time waiting out the storm for a few hours with Engus, Wes, Beaver and the rest of the gang who kept verifying that we were indeed from Great Britain. One guy even remarked with a straight face “you speak pretty good english” I think he was being serious. 😐 We left to breaking clouds with fuzzy heads and wobbly bikes but soon sobered up in the fresh post storm air to reach the nice city park of Elkader where we setup camp for the evening and hit the hay pretty early despite offerings of more beer from a group having a family reunion.





States Of Mind

New state crossings are always a good indication of progress, our destination of  Monroeville would take us into Indiana. We had to storm dodge a couple of times throughout the ride. I called ahead a few times without joy to a guy in the town who opens up the community centre for cross country bikers to stay in. We stacked mile on mile against our first real headwind test of the trip and arrived at the edge of town lacking options. We scouted out the community park and then found the pavilion with another number to call. Before we had chance the door was opened by Nick, an eastbounder who started out in Anacortes, Washington.

We had a great night with Nick who bought us ice cream in return for some Blue Moons we had gotten to share. He gave us several tips on the road ahead including several bicycle host recommendations. Its a shame I couldn’t give him much advice in return as we didn’t take the Northern Tier route he will be using in the coming weeks. The Monroeville accommodation was great, full use kitchen, hot showers, laundry. It was especially nice to see they had received the adventure cycling “June Curry” award for their efforts, a certificate only given to a handful of places like this across the US to recognise kindness and generosity to cyclists. Sadly I just learnt that June, who I stayed with in Afton,VA several years ago has passed away at the age of 91. June changed and warmed the hearts of all the cyclists that have stayed with her in the past 30+ years.

http://blog.adventurecycling.org/2012/07/our-trail-angel-flies-away.html



Nick had told who he had been shy on company for many weeks so it was a surprise the next morning to cross another eastbounder almost immediately after setting off who said the same thing. He seemed pretty down and wanted the ride to be over, its all psychological. Not 2 miles later we then crossed another eastbounder Traci, from Kansas riding her super comfy looking recumbent. We traded more tips and stories which seem to make their way up and down the route like chinese whispers. You gradually build a mental image of all the riders and destinations that lie ahead. Me and Eal had both just switched our tyres to prolong them as the rear always wears down much faster. However I noticed mine which I had just moved to the front had a few worrying bare patches exposing the kevlar underneath. I detoured that would actually serve as a short cut on slightly busier roads to the town of Huntington was scheduled in for the afternoon to source out a bike shop.

On the edge of town I had to double take on the large brown mammals hoofing around a farmers field, it was a Bison farm in the middle of Indiana! I got excited because it was my first time seeing them. Clouds were turning black again for the PM thunderstorms which seems to be the norm at the moment so we pulled into a bar for a few beers. We soon had every man and his dog offering us free drinks in the bar once we had told them we were heading cross country from Boston. The party had to be cut short however so I could get to the bike shop for a replacement tyre before close.

Big shout out to Larry Buzzard of  spokesmen cycling and the rest of the team for tuning my brakes then Eal’s gears in minutes free of charge after I had purchased a fresh tyre, which they fitted and of course the rest of the Hoosiers from the bar!

We had spent the night camping in a state forest, I hadn’t gotten much sleep thanks to the drugged up freak couple who arrived late and setup in the plot next to us. They had music and a party between themselves going which I didn’t mind until it got to about 1am, then 2am, 3am, 4am, 5am, 6am. Normally  I would have went across and kicked off but they seemed far too spaced out and unpredictable to approach. Its best to keep a low profile whilst travelling via bicycle, your vulnerable enough without causing a scene for yourself. So I had to deal with waking 10-15 times and we left early the next morning. For the first of two 90 mile days to blitz us across Indiana. The longer mileage days are all about focus, breaking the ride up into multiple sections whether that be 2o mile chunks, the next state line, the next town or even just the next gas station, starting a fresh after each on the next target.

Nick the eastbounder had tipped us off on a guys house to stay at right on route. I contacted him but he was going to be out of town that evening, however he had arranged for us to be let into the small house besides the main house which sits on his property. It was was a glorious Saturday on the back country farm roads until the last 25 miles where we had to endure dog chase after dog chase to many to even remember. I think it must have been a combination of the small quiet roads and a hot evening that had people sitting out on their lawns but it was horrible. We would approach drive ways and then pick up as much momentum as possible  to try and glide by undetected. Some of the dogs were huge vicious looking things with scars from previous battles, others came in packs. The best practice is to get off the bike and walk otherwise they give chase and will nip at ankle, socks, panniers.

We arrived at the house of Kyler and were given the keycode to let us into the spare house which had a kitchen, shower, mattresses and to top it all off he had left us ice cream, blueberries and strawberries in the fridge, soothed body, healed mind. For some reason though ALL the water in Indiana has a strong iron taste that makes it taste like blood, we either have to deal or buy bottled water.

The second of the 90 milers would take us to Odell, Illinois for a free nights camp in the city park. There were several road closures to contend with but nothing that couldn’t be walked with the bike. We had a guy outside a gas station try to flatout give us a $20 note just for telling him we were riding cross country, we had to decline though and told him to buy ice cream for the kids riding their bikes around. We spent a great lunch stop talking with another eastboudner, Peter Lovett. Its nice to be back on a more established path and getting to meet and exchange stories on a daily basis. We cruised the riding into Odell that evening stopping briefly to respond to a text from Joe regarding the bangers and mash he was in the middle of rustling up. It was a city park adjoined by a swimming pool where we took a shower then went over to the benches to wait out a birthday party going down. The locals offered us up free cake and pulled pork sandwiches, saved us from having to cook. 🙂


 

The Northern Tier

Joe wanted to ride with us for the first 20 or so miles through downtown as we headed north towards Ohio. Appropriatley he pulled out the old sun beaten jersey he had worn last time we rode and we hit the bike paths. Joe did well to navigate us away from the city with only 4 wrong turns, I had predicted he would make 7. Its a shame to be parting ways again but it wont be for long, Joes turn to visit me next time. You make lots of friends and many good friends through life but only a handful that you know will remain close buddies for life, Joe is one of those.

He had hooked us up with a place to stay in Alliance, Ohio that evening after an 80+ mile slog back on the bikes. We arrived at the house of Bill Morris to find Joe’s dad had driven down from Cleveland to join us for dinner that evening! Bill and Kate had arranged quite a special evening for us inviting friends and local bicycle enthusiasts round for food and drink, they spoilt us with great salad, corn on the cob and grilled chicken! We had a great time talking with everyone, its always good to be able to get advise on the next days ride from locals too. Bill had also arranged for a local news reporter to come over for a short interview, which led to a front page and inside cover spot on the Alliance Review paper. Thanks to Bill and Kate for making it a special evening and the warmest of welcomes to Alliance!

Eal talking with some local cyclists and me with Joe's dad in the background!
Front cover and inside column feature in the Alliance Review

Bill told us to ride out of Alliance via the high school and Glamorgan castle to take in two of Alliance’s landmarks, they were so big we could hardly miss them. The goal for the day was continue north to lake Erie where we would finally join the Northern tier bike route, the cross country trail by adventure cycling whose Transamerica trail I used last time. North-eastern Ohio was still gently rolling but it ended flat amongst corn and soya fields as we hauled within touching distance of the great lake.



Riding to Fremont I wondered whether we would start seeing other touring cyclists now on the Northern Tier. Weather is consistently hot, humid with no rain, its had a huge impact in the US this summer and is always the first talking point with locals. We tell them we get enough rain back home so are glad of the weather but at the same time feel terrible about the many dried out crop fields we have seen and will continue to see for weeks to come as we cross the Americas farming heartland. A nice bike path took us the last stretch from Clyde where we dined in at Lee’s famous recipe chicken and old fashioned chicken place local to the area, fried chicken, tatoes, gravy, slaw, all the good stuff.

We had a casual morning as it was only a 60 mile ride to Grand Rapids and the campground we had picked out for the evening. We stopped by the bike shop in Fremont and talked with the guys about our trip, beer and the olympics. It was a great shop and they even gave Eal some free bontrager bar end plugs as he had lost one and was having some hand issues. It was perfect riding, cranking out 15-20mph most of the way through idyllic farmland under a big hot blue sky. We pulled up right on the river with the place to ourself aside from one RV camper in the far corner, it was primitive with no showers but the lake looked refreshing enough to take a dip and clean off. We piled up the fire wood before scooting back into town to pick up some cold ones to end the evening whilst I studied the panels on my Northern tier maps over and over. Its good to be back on an established route with all directions taken care of, it almost feels like we have just started crossing the country even though we’re already a decent chunk over.




Great Allegheny Passage

It was time to cross what would likely be the toughest terrain of the USA so far and probably the hardest days ride for about 5 weeks until we reach Glacier  National Park. We slugged up and over a few appalachian ridges climbing then descended a couple thousand feet before then reach the Allegheny mountains. With 20 miles to go I had completely ran out of water, I felt weak in need of liquid and sugar. Pausing halfway up a climb I couldn’t even rest on my handlebars as the sweat and sunscreen pouring out my arms made it impossible.

An Ice cream sandwich and a few soda fountain refills saw me good to Rockwood where we camped for the night. Joining us that evening for a chat was Dani currently heading south towards Washington DC. Me an Eal tried and failed to get a fire going with the damp wood so we ended up just sharing touring tips for and hour to come and she handed us a todo list for when we get to Pittsburgh, nice evening.



I was so excited to jump on the rail trail known as The GAP the next morning.  It runs from Pittsburgh all the way to Washington DC, switching to another canal trail from Cumberland, Maryland. It didn’t disappoint, each town has an information board with trail maps and leaflets for the current town, previous town and next town with all the information you would expect, campgrounds, restaurants, attractions etc. I can hardly remember being so happy to be on my bike. The trail itself has an excellent solid flat surface following the river as it weaves inbetween the Allegheny mountains, no climbing and no cars!

It was great to see how all the towns along the way had really taken to being a trailtown, with local businesses adopting names like “Trailside Cafe” and banners on each street corner advertising local walks and rides, not only does it bring tourists like us but it has clearly had a powerfully positive impact on the lives of the people who live here.

That day we cruised a short 35 miles too Ohiopyle and setup camp at the state campground, ramen noodles for tea and marshmallows by the fire for dessert. We are staying with my friend Joe in Pittsburgh for a few days but aren’t due until Thursday so we had a few 35 mile rides on the trail ahead of us, smart casual riding I call it, I’m glad though because we get to enjoy these cool towns a little more along the way.






Back on the trail the next morning we were joined by another rider, Tom from Delaware. He had arrived late at the campsite the previous night and pitched on the next plot.  He caught up with us the next morning and we talked a little, he told us in the early hours of the morning when he woke up he saw a bear out of his tent window walking between our plots. Just after telling him we are really trying to space out the days ride so not to arrive at the next campground too early he managed to get a rear flat. We pulled over and helped him fix up, he replaced his old worn tyre with a spare folding tyre he had brought. About 30 minutes later and ready to go again I looked down at his wheel, it was flat again with the new tube and tyre just replaced!

We started again with another new tube checking the tyre and rim for gravel and sharp edges. Another half hour passed and we eventually set off, not half a mile down the trail though and his tyre did not look like it was holding air. Something was seriously wrong with the folding tyre. Eventually after several flats and about 3 hours passing he managed to get his rear tyre solid. We got into Connellsville at 2pm just before a huge storm. We stopped and shared a pizza with Tom as the sky turned black, the rain picked up and the lightning started to crack. The storm was so bad you could hardly see down the street so we dipped in a bar for an hour to wait it out.

Tom had planned on an 80+ mile ride that morning as he heads up towards Michigan, he scrapped those plans and decided to join us at a primitive volunteer maintained campground further down the trail. It was great talking with Tom, particularly about football. Unlike most Americans it was his number one sport which he plays and one of his sons. Unfortunately he was an Arsenal fan but we got to talk transfers and the upcoming season.


Tom left early the next morning but I had told him to give me a shout when he was going so I could say bye. Me and Eal managed to hit the trail pretty early ourselves, today I was buzzing more than ever. This afternoon we would arrive in Pittsburgh where we are staying with Joe for a few days. For those of you who did not read my last blog, I met Joe at the start of Kentucky and we rode together all the way until Pueblo Colorado, reducing each other to tears laughing so hard on a daily basis.  Me and Joe have remained good friends for the past 2 years and chat on a regular basis, looking forward to this reunion for a while.

He had a lunch meeting so we agreed to arrive around 3pm but with afternoon thunderstorms forecast again we decided to arrive early and just hit somewhere for food until he was finished. We had barely gotten onto Carson street where he lives and crossed some lights and there was Joe walking right towards us, a little cleaner shaved then when we departed but same old Joe trying to pick up phrases we are coming out with and laughing at our choice of words, sentence order and pronunciation. Daft as a brush.

Chilling at Joe's

We spent a couple of days watching Workaholics, too funny, drinking and eating at just about everyplace along Carson street in Pittsburgh, such a good time. Friday night was a particularly big night. We had made Joe some bangers and mash to line the stomach and headed out bar hopping. The next morning me and Eal had heavy heads, Joe went for a five mile run! Later me and Joe went to a place called Church Brew Works for dinner, you can probably figure from the name and pictures what the place used to be. Then we took a ride up mount Washington (in the car, this area claims to have the steepest street in the world) to get an amazing overview of downtown Pitts. Thanks for the awesome stopover Joey, just like the Transam days, can’t wait until next time.

Appalachia

Jeffrey joined us on the road for the first 10 miles after dishing up a great breakfast, it was nice to have somebody navigate us out of town for a change onto the route for the day which he had helped plot the night before and a great ride it was riding along the ridgeline which we would hop over tomorrow. Finding campgrounds was still proving difficult on this area of the ride but two motels were close by. The first, Fort Motel had a sign on the office door to ring some guy if you wanted a room. Several unanswered calls later and after speaking with another resident who looked as though he hadnt showered in weeks we decided to give the next place a few miles down the road a try. They had rooms a restaurant and bar, it was the cheapest so far at $45 including tax. It was clear to see why once we got in the room, this place was OLD, we ain’t fussy though. That night at the bar we had a great time with the bartender Mike Narvaez. A musician himself, he loved British music from the 60’s and 70’s and played us tracks from his stack of LP’s all night.

The last few rides we continued to zig zag with the Appalachian trail but on route to York, PA we would descend into rolling farmlands and Amish country! Almost immediatley we passed our first horse and cart being navigated by a plain clothed amish lady. We would pass more Amish people that day including some young Amish kids out the front of a big barn, I gave them a wave and hello and got a warm smile and a wave back, nice people and very interesting. I remember seeing a documentary about rumspringa, which is where teenage Amish go out into the towns and cities and live as we do before choosing which lifestyle they wish to follow, almost always they return to the Amish way of life after seeing how cruel and messed up normal society can be.


Leaving York we joined one of the well sign-posted cross Pennsylvania routes. After finding ourselves on some fairly busy roads now and again over the past 7 or so weeks riding its reassuring to see signs on the rode for bike routes. It helps create a more relaxed atmosphere on the road when you know cars are expecting cyclists, not that we have had any trouble but sometimes you can feel like a nuissance if there is no shoulder and your slowing traffic. Its only right that cars should share small county roads like this and cyclists should oblige by always acting in a predictable riding manner. We rode through some apple orchards as we approached Caledonia State park where the fields gave way to forests again. A mile from the campground and with lots of time to kill me an Eal decided to go in a biker bar we passed. ‘Welcome bikers’ the signs often read, a different leather clad type of biker but we usually get to exchange some sarcastic jokes in these places and the motorcyclists are always friendly.

After sinking a blue moon we rolled down toward the state campground, no alcohol in PA state parks. A guy at the campground office invited us over to their plot later that evening. Scott and Emily played host to passing Appalachian Trail hikers every year feeding them up with calories to carry on their journey. It was fun talking with the trail hikers whom as mentioned in the last post I spent a night sleeping with in Damascus, VA in 2010. One hiker had a great story which everybody who knew about it urged him to tell again. It was a great story about an encounter him and some others had on the trail a few weeks previously, he told it great whilst we all sat engrossed around the campfire. I couldn’t possibly retell it with any justice but an article from the local press can be found here…http://www.johnsoncitypress.com/News/article.php?id=100221.

Emily and Scott invited us for breakfast with the hikers the next morning and stuffed us with enough blueberry pancakes to last today and tomorrows ride. They even handed out carry out bags to me, Eal and the hikers to take with us filled with Ramen noodles, chocolate, leftover pancakes and more! Truly amazing people, as I told Emily upon thanking them; it sure beat the gas station breakfast we had planned that morning!

The ride to Mcconnellsburg took us over a few long ridge climbs, the heat was letting up and conditions overcast. We stopped atop the last climb at another biker bar before a final eye watering descent into town. We found another cheap as chips motel as again there was no camping with all the surrounding forests being state game lands. At the motel I asked the women if there was somewhere for me to get a long overdue haircut in town. She said there wasn’t but called her friend up who did do cuts and had her come round to the motel. Now because my mum is a hairdresser I have gone 25 years without having to visit a barbers or salon, never exchanged a penny for a cut or had another person take scissors to my head. Well sitting on a chair outside the front of a motel with some random lady chopping away was certainly a strange way to end the streak, but she was really friendly and did a great job. After it was done I asked how much, she told me she only ever accepts what her customers think it was worth. I gave her $15 which I thought was fair and I am still yet to visit a barbers!

Stars, Stripes and Humble Nights

Flying with a bike can be a little awkward due to the size of the box, even with the bike dissasembled. From the hotel in Lisbon we had to walk about 2 streets down to the airport shuttle bus stop. The bikes weigh a ton with all the gear on and now we had to carry all that gear to the stop, imagine a strongman competition where for very short bursts they lift and waddle as fast as they can before dropping the weight, that was us. After getting to the stop and have to wait for a quieter bus to get the boxes on we got to the airport and get checked in, SATA airline even waived the sports baggage fee for the bike!

The plane landed early at Boston Logan International and we made our way towards customs anticipating the usual grilling. After a few tense moments and probing questions I eventually got my 90 day stamp which keeps me good in the US until Oct 2nd, although our flight to New Zealand is Oct 1st. We had arranged to stay with Norma and Bob in Jamaica Plains, a neighbourhood in Boston through a website for touring cyclists called warmshowers (I know, the name could be better). We cross the river by water taxi and navigate away from downtown to their lovely home where they greeted us on the front porch.

Bob offered up a beer called ‘Heady Topper’ an 8% double IPA that was unbelievavly refreshing for its strength, shame its only available in Vermont where they drive to get it, I think I’m going to email the brewers and see if I can’t get a box shipped out somewhere. That evening and the following morning Bob and Norma totally spoiled us with good food, we were especially humbled to try Bobs amazing signature waffles. The perfect start to the USA section of the trip and a huge thanks to Norma, Bob and the Ferris Wheels bike shop which gave us a quick turnaround on my cassette and Eals rear wheel. We have fun galavanting around on these bikes but all these people combine to make it more worthwhile and possible.

An uneventful first 60 miles ride followed as we adjusted our eyes from the old european towns and countryside to the more familiar yellow striped US roads, huge wood panelled homes and red barn farms. Another 70 mile ride followed to the town of Windsor Locks through crossing from New Jersey into Connecticut along the way, 3 states in a few days, as the heatwave from the previous week in the US began to ease from around 105F to a more comfortable 93F.

One thing we have loved since getting back to the US is the amount of options we have for food and drink, spoilt for choice at every turn often over doing the sugar and taking timeouts to let the food babies settle down. Heading out for food that evening however we had a problem, one thing that annoys me about certain towns like this one in the US is that the commercial areas have no sidewalks. A double lane road runs through past all the stores and chain food places with turns direct to parking lots, completely inaccessible by pedestrian. This isn’t the case in an around the cities and major towns but these smaller ones (and this occurs all the way across) have been setup in a way that can only be detremental to public health not to mention the environment as nobody walks anywhere! (Not to mention the drive-thru banks they have here, SERIOUSLY) We have bought beers from a liquor shop round the corner of a motel only to have the liquor store owner marvel that we have walked offering us a lift back in his truck and then see the motel owner on the walk back remark if she knew we wanted beer she would have drove us, it was a 2 minute walk. Alas, as usual we end up lumbering across the grass by the road and cutting through parking lots.

Riding through Conneticut has been a series of reasonabley long rolling climbs. That night we were heading toward our second warmshower stay with John Lynch, he had offered some great route advice along the way which took us on a bike path from Avon to Farmington. It was a glorious smooth ride and being a Sunday there were plenty of walkers, runners and cyclists making use of the paved trail that ran for about 20 miles. I thought about how logical the path must be for the local economies and what a contrast it was from the Windsor Locks commercial area. We stopped for food and drink along the path and I’m sure most people out that day would have. Thats about $7 x hundreds of people, makes sense.

John greeted us at the bottom of his driveway and gave us another great night of warm hospitality and wonderful food in their beautiful log cabin home. It was great looking over googlemaps with John tracking out a route for the next 3-4 days and again we can’t thank them enough for hosting us. Following John’s route the next morning over pleasant ridge gave us a nice climb and great descent at which point we crossed the Appalchian Trail. Right on que several thru-hikers came out of the woods beards, backpacks and all. I crossed the Appalchian trail in Virginia 2 years ago and stayed at a hostel in the legendary AT town of Damascus, VA called “The Place”. The afternoon saw us crossing over more rolling terrain toward the Winding Hills Lake campground which unsuprisingly was at the top of a very long winding hill. We had to bin our stove gas cannisters for the flight which we havn’t been able to resupply yet so it was a 2 mile cruise back into the town of Montgomery for some long overdue pizza.

2 Years ago I met a guy on the road whilst riding in Idaho called Siemen from Belgium. Last summer Siemen met and rode with Jeffrey Odolski in Spain. Our days riding from Winding Hills would take us through the Delaware Water Gap area where Jeffrey lives, so with that connection in place we had arranged to stay with him at the family home. It would be about a 70 mile ride in total with the last 30 being a real treat riding along ‘Old Mine Road’, almost no traffic 2 deep and chatting the whole way. When a car finally did pass us it stopped in the road up ahead and a bunch of girls stuck heads out of the window and sunroof toward the edge of the road. We pulled over with them to see a black bear walking off in the bushes that had just crossed the road. 20 seconds earlier and we would have had to ride around it. After getting to Jeffery’s we exchange stories of Siemen and bike touring, devour a phillie cheesesteak and hit the sack.

The Lisbon Six

From Segovia to Lisbon we had the option of a 7 or 6 day ride, we opted for the bigger mileage 6 day ride to give us extra time in Lisbon to sort out bikes and other stuff for flying to the US. Another wild camp on the cards as there were no accommodation options as we continued on the plateau amid the mountains we had been riding for a couple of days. I’ve been getting lazy with taking pictures so bug me and I will pick the effort up. We passed through the town of Avila which had a city wall to match Segovia (no pictures) and continued on to an unknown destination. When it got to 9pm and our surroundings were still corn farm fields I began to get a little concerned over finding a prime quiet spot away from the road. A few miles later the trees started picking up, we stopped midway up a hill to check out an area behind some bushes which had some old flattened tracks, turned out to be the local tipping ground. We settled on a thistle riddled patch of grass just of a layby, barely out of traffic view but it was getting late and we would leave early. Always remember to check the ground isn’t moving when trodding through this kind of bush, don’t want to step on any snakes like some of the flattened ones we have been seeing.


Ate breakfast and brushed teeth by the roadside like a pair of bums and breezed along happily to Fleet Foxes. A glorious morning, the kind that reminds me how lucky I am. When your stinking, hungry knowing you have 70+ miles to ride again somedays it can be hard to ‘saviour the moment’. So much happens everyday, long days outside with your eyes taking a million pictures and brain thinking about where the next rest, accommodation, food and drink (all kinds) is coming from, whether that squeek on your bike is going to lead to something serious, lots of uncertainties. Its often the case you don’t appreciate something until its over, so its nice when you do get that happiest feeling of where you are and what your doing that it puts me in a great mood all day and I can just enjoy the ride.

This day was made even better when we met Javier, a local who is an accomplished bicycle tourer, loaded and unloaded he now runs rides for http://www.ibericactc.com. He joined and chatted with us all the way up a climb, took us to a water fountain in a small town to fill our bottles up with the delicious cold water from the surrounding glacial lakes. On the other side of the pass he pulled us over to some cherry trees, the areas local economy, then stopped in a town after and epic descent and bought us some drinks. It was great to have a local guide like Javier, if it wasn’t so hot and he didn’t have to ride back up over the mountain I think he would have joined us all day. He gave us some good route advice which unfortunately we could only follow for a while to Caceres as we didn’t find many camping options online for the rest so ended up sticking to our original planned route. Thanks Javier, I will come back one day and see the rest of the route you told us to take.



It took them a while to pick up but Spanish campgrounds are great. Staying at mostly municipal ones that adjoin the public swimming pools, perfect for a post ride dip to cool off if not to actually swim. The Caceres one in particular was a highlight, each tent spot featured its own small building which housed a personal sink, shower, toilet. It even had table and chairs! Simple pleasures but we are used to sitting on our air mats outside on hardground as our poor tired thighs threaten to cramp up. I was accustomed to wooden benches on each plot whilst camping in the US but these chairs were the first we have had in the whole of Europe.


Since Segovia we have been on the 6 day countdown, something about getting towards the end of a section has triggered a natural reaction to speed up and ‘get there’. After crossing the final border to Portugal we had to deal with a few dog chases guarding the strange mix of orange and tobacco fields. In the town of Elvas we witnessed a local custom that we saw in France in which a post wedding parade consists of 20-30 cars doing laps around town beeping their horns, we road alongside and got big smiles and happy toots, a good place to be. The final approach to Lisbon wasn’t so good, our route would take us North and than descend south towards the city in a zigzag to avoid the major roads, it took us through mostly industrial estates and busy roads still but the end was in sight. 5 weeks since leaving home riding to the ferry then trekking from Belgium through Ardennes to France, into the Alps of Switzerland across the vineyards of southern France, over the Pyrenees towards the heat of Spain and finally beautiful Portugal.




So we are in Lisbon with days to spare, but those days were needed. We spent a full day and lots of walking trying to locate 2 cardboard bike boxes to package our steeds up and 2 big sports holdalls for our panniers. Lisbon is a nice city but we have had so much to do getting gear cleaned, sorted and ready for the USA section of the trip I haven’t taken any pictures, a wiki link will have to suffice http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lisbon. To Boston we go hopefully with a safe flight for luggage and bikes, I cannot believe I am going to be riding my bike across america AGAIN! 😀

 

Truck Stops And Hotel Hops

We maxed out the uber breakfast in Hotel Calatayud. After inhaling about 3 cups of coffee I also managed a bacon and egg sanga, bowl of cereal, pastries, water melon and more. Hotels for the next couple of nights too until Segovia still no camping options but they do pick up from there right through to Lisbon, we will probably try our hand at a few more wild camps before then.

From Calatayud we headed to Almazan, flatter terrain but Spain continues to surprise from hot rocks to woods. The smell of hot tree bark seeping from the dried out forests lining the roads is an odd favourite of mine, it reminds me of Idaho. The next day to Villarejo was started early as we had a 77 mile ride to make our booking at the Mira sierra and more importantly the England – Italy game on the evening which I won’t dwell on.

The following 35 mile ride to Segovia was a breeze, we nailed it in about 2 hours 30. We only made 2 brief pitstops at our beloved Repsol petrol stations. Not exactly glamorous but they are our absolute lifeline, we would struggle to complete some days without them. Particularly the past few days when towns have had nothing we rely on petrol stations to restock water and get our sugar kicks. They usually have a vending machine out front too which is great for getting rid of change. In the supermircados its not always easy to understand how much a shop has cost when the assistant speaks fast and there is no screen. So I normally play it safe with a note, like on a night out in a loud bar, which usually means finishing up with a pocket full of shrapnel.

The day off in Segovia was much overdue, it was actually the first day since starting I didn’t look, sit or ride on the bike. Its a pretty place, a world heritage site in fact, with incredible historic landmarks littered on every corner. Definitely the type of place to take a girl rather than the guys, but me and Eal will enjoy a few beers. For some reason almost every tourist in Segovia was American, mostly young teenagers. I think an entire state must have funded all schools in its counties to take a trip to Spain, you can reach Madrid via a high speed rail line in 30 minutes.

We’ll enjoy the comforts tonight, another wild camp followed by 5 campgrounds until we reach Lisbon, getting close.

¡Viva España!

We miss our French pastry breakfast, Spanish breakfast is coffee and a bread roll with jam, unless you can score a Spanish omelette, then your cooking. The trusty road we had been following all day directed us towards a tunnel which passes through a mountain, Tunel De Berga. The tunnel was dark, there was no shoulder or indication of how long it was and cars were cruising through at 70. It would take us to Berga, but was it worth the risk? The other option was riding around and up into the mountains probably a 2 hour detour. After much umming and arghing we psyched each other up, donned hi-viz jackets and lights, waited for a break in traffic and raced into the tunnel. We road hard and fast for about a minute until the light appeared at the end of the tunnel, relief. Remember to take chances sometimes.

It turns out the only rain in Spain is not just on the plane as we had a light sprinkling which soon gave way to sunshine which is now forcast to last for the next week at around 100 degrees, no weather worries. Spanish scenery is so unsettled, mountains give way to false plains which then roll back to mountains over each hill and around each bend. Sometimes one half of the road is lush green with trees whilst the other half can be baron and parched with mesas and red rock formations running along the roadside. I love the variation to look at from the saddle.

We arrived in Lerida hoping to pick up a campground within 10 miles only to find the closest was 50 miles away! After scouting around town without success looking for wifi to verify there was no camping we ended up finding a hotel, not such a bad deal in the end with breakfast included. The spanish economy being what it is at the moment everything has seemed pretty cheap, a can of beer for about 30p and decent hotel rooms for £15-20 each.

One thing we now know is that this part of Spain does not do camping. We have rode through fairly affluent areas all trip for the most part but leaving Lerida we passed by several sun bleached run down towns, no crops growing in the dried out fields and no shade from the sun, who would want to camp here? That pretty much explains it. It means for the next few days we will have to stay in hotels, for the night between Lerida and Calatayud however there was abosulutley nothing. We decided to ride until sunset, pull off the roadside and wild camp for the night. It must have been around mile 75 we thought it was time. We walked the bikes 2 minutes off-road into some trees and setup camp. I took a baby wipe shower (I can’t be the first?) and hit the sack. Best motto for wild camping is arrive late and leave early, you can’t be sure who’s land your on so thats what we’ll do.

The sound of trucks on the road woke me up, I kept having visions of a spanish farmer rolling down in his tractor with the dogs I could hear barking in the distance. I shouted eal, we packed up and left at about 5:30am, straight onto a climb out of the valley the first 30 minutes we got to take in a full sunrise, they never get old. A long hard slog in the mountains, hair still matted to my head from the night before. After multiple siestas we hit mile 85 as we arrived in Calatayud, the town camping was closed and looked liked it had been for sometime. Another hotel, classy joint too ah well we’ve earnt it!