Life On A B-I7

Day 73

Dillon MT, 0 miles

Rest day.

Looking at the map elevation guide, it appears that tomorrow might be my biggest day of climbing yet. Certainly the biggest day of climbing in Montana. I’m going to get an early pre-dawn start to give myself as much daylight as possible to make it over Badger Pass (6,760 feet) and Big Hole Pass (7,360 feet). The starting elevation here in Dillon is a bit over 5,000 feet. The net climb is 3,760 feet over 49 miles.

I’m feeling better today. Yesterday’s traumatic experience on Highway 41 is behind me. That in no way changes my assessment of the hazard I encountered yesterday, but time is a marvelous thing when it comes to one’s perception of past experiences. Even 24 hours can make a huge difference. Am I going to give up travel by bicycle? No, not at all.

I’m getting lots of rest today. I realized I’ve been cycling every day for twelve days without a rest day. During that time I’ve covered 723 miles, not bad for an old man. That’s an average of 60 miles per day. When I was planning this trip I was hoping to be able to hit that mark. It’s rewarding to know that over the last 12 days of challenging terrain I have been able to do that.

I mostly agree with that quote, however, I would say “as important.”

Day 72

Dillon MT, 72 miles

I’m going to share this post with the ACA. I think I have a responsibility to do that. I understand I am just one voice but I believe every voice should be heard

The climb out of Ennis was a big one, about 8 miles of significant grade. Once I made the pass I dropped straight into Virginia City (see below). I had an easy ride from Virginia City to Sheridan. From Sheridan to Twin Bridges was the fastest eight miles I have done on the tour. Downhill with a shoulder that lets you really put the hammer down. From Twin Bridges to Dillon was another story…

Twin Bridgets to Dillon follows State Highway 41. It’s a 28 mile stretch of road, but the first 20 miles has no shoulder. Literally zero shoulder in many places with a significant amount of broken white line in other places. To put it quite simply, it was a nightmare. The speed limit is 70 MPH and that is what most cars and trucks are doing. Bicycles don’t belong on a road like that. I got the distinct impression from the behavior of a lot of the vehicles that passed me that they are basing their driving behavior on a similar belief.

When I went through Yellowstone, I saw a fellow wearing a bright pink jersey, the back of it read: “Please Don’t Hit Me.” At the time this struck me as a somewhat obvious notion. A concept that I assumed at the time that everyone agrees on. Now that I reflect on that a bit, along with today’s experience, I’m having a different reaction.

When the TransAmerica bicycle route was established in 1976, we lived in a different era. Of course what I am about to say can be easily dismissed as subjective, but sometimes even subjective observations can hold a truth. In 1976 I suspect behavior on the road was different than it is today. People likely drove more slowly, cars simply weren’t as well built or as powerful. People might not have been in as big a hurry. Bicycles were a curiosity, now they are an annoyance to a lot of people. In other words, people were likely more courteous back then. I could go on about the attitudes of drivers and respect for each other as fellow humans, but I think you get the idea where I’m going with this…

I think the TransAmerica Bicycle Route is an important part of our country’s history and culture, and an endeavor worth undertaking. I wish that local, state, and even federal resources could be dedicated to making stretches like today’s Highway 41 safer for bicyclists and drivers. Giving the times we live in, I’m not holding out much hope for that. I admired what Nelson D. Rockefeller Jr. did to establish Grand Teton National Park. Perhaps our best bet is that some day someone like him will help provide the means to make the TransAmerica Bicycle Route the world’s premier (safe) bicycle experience.

My day did end on a very positive note. As I was leaving the Best Western here in Dillon to grab some dinner, a couple of fellows were tailgating in the hotel parking lot. I stopped to tell them their grill smelled really good. On my way back from dinner I stopped to chat a bit more. They asked me where I was cycling from and to. I told them a little bit about my trip. As I was walking away I heard one of the men say to his buddy, “Wouldn’t it be cool to have that kind of freedom.” Well there you go, that says a lot about this journey, and why I have undertaken it.

Virginia City is worth a visit. The history of placer mining here is a fascinating one. Some colorful characters made their home here during the Montana gold rush, not all of them were looking for gold in the river. A handful of lawless men made a profession of getting their gold any way they could until vigilantes stepped in and put an end to that practice, and to those men…

Day 71

Ennis MT, 71 miles

Everything has a beginning, a middle, and an end. This trip feels like it’s nearing its end. I still have a long way to go (MT, ID, OR) but it feels like the end is in sight…

My goal today was 71 miles. Looking at the ACA map, it looked like it was all down hill. By the time I stopped for a late breakfast at the Campfire Lodge cafe I was beginning to have some doubts about the elevation profile on the map. While I was tending to my breakfast special, I mentioned to my server that the map indicated it was mostly down hill to Ennis. The cook was just a few feet away and he started laughing… I knew at that point I was in for a longer day than I had planned on. The cafe had a sign that read: “Born to fish, forced to work.” That got me thinking, I feel like I was born to ride, but I’m fortunate in that I no longer need to work.

After my late breakfast I finished riding through the Madison River canyon. The canyon is a geologic wonder. In 1959 there was a 7.5 Magnitude earthquake that rocked the canyon and caused a massive landslide at the mouth of the canyon. The landslide completely blocked the river and formed a new lake, now named Earthquake Lake. I stopped at all the interpretive road-side displays that explained in great detail how the event unfolded. I would put this in the same category as the eruption of Mt. St. Helens in Washington in 1980. I remember that well. I was in Tacoma and the ash plume caused by the eruption darkened the sky. My sister remembers it well too I’m sure. It was a Sunday morning and people were coming out of church to a dark sky filled with ash. Some people thought the world was ending, it was so dramatic.

Sometime mid-afternoon I had a flat tire. A Deputy Sheriff (not a Sherif) stopped to make sure I was okay. We talked a bit. I think he was trying to be helpful when he mentioned that the next six miles in front of me was referred to as the Bermuda Triangle. I asked why. He said because there were so many traffic deaths on that stretch of road. Not a confidence builder. I did appreciate his concern.

Strolling the streets of downtown Ennis a 92 year old man stopped me to chat. He had a great sense of humor. The first thing he asked me was could I give him a ride on my bicycle. After getting to know him a bit, I learned that he was born on Main Street in a cabin that was later moved one block away as the town started to grow. He said he had never lived outside of the one block radius in Ennis except when he worked heavy construction in Everett Washington. He helped to clear the land that the Boeing Everett assembly building was built on. A coincidence almost too weird to believe.

The Madison River between Campfire Lodge and Earthquake Lake.

Day 70

West Yellowstone MT, 42 miles

Another beautiful day for cycling. I’ve been incredibly lucky. The weather has been almost perfect for me since I left Virginia.

Shortly after I started up the second climb of the morning, a group of French cyclists, about seven, cruised past me on racing bicycles. I know they were French-Canadian because of the jerseys they were wearing. They all said “bonjour” as they went past, it’s the only French that I speak, so I said, “bonjour” right back at them. The last of the group went past me and patted me on the back. He said a phrase in French, which naturally didn’t understand, but if I had to guess it was probably something like “nice work.” Of course my bicycle is a bit heavier than the ones they were riding, hence the pat on the back…

“Old Faithful.” Not my bicycle, the other one.

Day 69

Grant Village Campground, Yellowstone National Park WY, 44 miles

I’m overwhelmed by the natural beauty surrounding me. I’m also grateful for the opportunity to see all of these natural treasures from the seat of a bicycle. I don’t know why anyone would want to drive through Yellowstone. Even if people go the speed limit, which most don’t do, you can’t begin to get the same experience.

The first twelve miles into Yellowstone from the South Entrance is an uphill climb. It makes you wonder, can I do this? It’s best if you empty your mind and simply look around without caring about making progress. Eventually, at the end of the day, you end up where you want to be. Maybe I’m just lucky…

I pulled over at a turn-out and there where a dozen motorcycle riders there taking a break. One of the fellows asked me how far I had come and where I was headed. When I described the trip he was impressed. Respect from a Harley Dude is much appreciated. He took my photo before the group started rolling again.

I’m in a group campsite tonight, a “hiker/bicyclist” site. The fellow sharing the site with me is from Sheffield England (home of the Brooks Saddle). Next month he will have been on the road for a year. He started his mountain bike trek in Alaska and is now in Yellowstone. He has amazing photos and video of wildlife and his journey, he showed be a good sample of them.

I met another cyclist during the day and we ended up having dinner together at Grant Lodge. He worked as an independent stock trader in Manhattan. In 2002 when the industry consolidated he bought a Volvo tractor and trailer and he is now an independent hauler six months out of the year. He spends the other six months hiking and cycling wherever he feels like going. He has crossed the country, hiked the AT, the PCT, and done numerous other cycling trips. We had a very nice time chatting over Bison Burgers.

For those of you who indulge me, for those of you that love me, and even for those of you that tolerate me (or any combination of the three).

Day 68

Colter Bay Village, Grand Teton National Park WY, 77 miles

It took all morning (and a bit more…) but I made it over Togwotee Pass, 9,584 feet, approximately 30 miles of climbing. It’s pronounced TOE-go-wee Pass. It’s named after a powerful Shoshone chief who first led white men over this route. At the top of the pass is Wind River Lake, the headwaters of the Wind River. The Wind River feeds three major river courses, one of them is the Snake/Columbia river system. The ride down from Togwotee Pass is stunning. The Grand Tetons are in your face all the way down to Grand Teton National Park.

I only post one photo a day, but I could easily have posted a dozen today. The mountains are majestic and awe inspiring. These are actually words too simplistic to do the landscape the justice it deserves. Metaphorical skills are called for when trying to describe such overwhelming beauty. I was captivated by Wind River Lake at the summit of Togwotee Pass. You can’t see it from the pass, but it is just a few hundred yards off the highway on a dirt road. It reminded me of some of the beautiful alpine lakes around Mt. Rainier in Washington. (It made me want to go back to Mt. Rainier and re-discover them again…)

I’m staying tonight in Grand Teton National Park at the Colter Bay Campground. Our National Park Service provides campsites without reservation for hikers and bikers. What a wonderful benefit, not one lost on me. Tomorrow I’ll be in Yellowstone National Park, the first National Park in the world. As a matter of note, there would be no Grand Teton National Park of it weren’t for John D. Rockefeller, Jr., who bought up a large swath of ranch lands east of the Tetons then deeded them to the Federal Government for the formation of a National Park.

A beautiful alpine lake and the head waters of the Wind River. Reminds me of Reflection Lake in Mt. Rainier National Park.

Day 67

Dubois WY, 75 miles

6:15 AM

As I look out the hotel room window, I see a beautiful day dawning. I have to admit. I’m a little bit reluctant to get moving. Today is going to be tough and spending the night in a hotel spoils you.

Today’s stretch is long and almost all up hill. It unsettles me a bit because there is really no respite from climbing. I’ll be going from 5,400 feet elevation up to almost 7,000 feet elevation. It’s not a straight climb, when you factor in the ups and downs the total elevation gain is around 3,800 feet. It feels like today’s stretch is going to define how the next two weeks are going to go

I made it to Dubois…

The first 45 miles was pleasant, then the wind came up. The last 30 miles was a slog. That’s my fault for getting a late start (8 AM). Anyway, here I am, and damn happy to be here. I will get an earlier start tomorrow so I can enjoy less wind in the afternoon…

The only wildlife I saw today was crickets. For about a five mile stretch of road they seemed to be all over the pavement. As you rolled along they would jump up. Quite often they would try and jump through the spokes of the wheel. A bad move on their part, very few make it through to the other side. Tomorrow I’ve been told the wildlife will be of quite a different sort. There are some bears that like to hang-out at the pass I’ll be going over. I was told by a fellow here at the church that there are signs saying “do not stop,” I don’t plan to. That said, there is more protection in a car than on a bicycle, and a lot of cars stop to gawk. A fellow here told me to put my bear spray in my water bottle holder so it will be at the ready. There is a hiker staying here tonight that saw a bear yesterday, so none of the stories I’m hearing are exaggerations.

Sometimes I break out with a smile for no reason. That’s a good day. Endorphins: breakfast, lunch and dinner of champions.

Do I ever raise my middle finger at a passing vehicle? Yes. If a luxury motorhome goes past me pulling an F150 pickup, and on the back of the F150 there is a bike rack with a road bike in it, and the motorhome refuses to give me 3 feet of room; I do have a tendency to raise my middle finger in that case.

The road becomes your best friend…

Day 66

Lander WY, 58 miles

It was another pre-dawn start. I wanted to make Lander in plenty of time to enjoy the town. The best laid plans are often subverted. In this case it was a flat tire three miles out of Jeffrey City. No problem. I know how to handle this and it won’t set me back that much… I removed the panniers from the bike and that’s when the mesquites struck. Struck is not the right word, swarmed is more accurate. As quickly as I could I put some air in the tire, remounted the panniers, and started down the road hoping for a respite from the biting fiends. I got a half mile and the tire needed air again. As quickly as I could I aired-up while simultaneously being bitten to death. You can swat mosquitoes or change a tire, but you can’t do both at the same time. I covered 3 miles, a half-mile at a time, airing-up, until I found some high ground where the beasts weren’t quite as hungry. After I finally got the flat fixed I started rolling and about a mile later I pulled over at another historic marker. The marker explained how pioneers stopped at that spot to dig ice out of the ground to cool their food and drink. The spot is known as “Ice Slough.” The ice was formed by a surplus of ground water that remained frozen well into June. The ground water here flows into the Sweet Water River some five miles down valley. That explained the mesquites and gave me another valuable history lesson about the life of early pioneers. (There no longer is ice formed here. That is likely attributable to the warming we are experiencing.)

Lander is a cool town. The bike shop here is excellent. They set me up with an Ortlieb handlebar bag in yellow to match my Ortlieb panniers. It is very hard to find classic yellow Ortlieb any more. I feel like I won the lottery! The guys at Gannett Sports are awesome.

On a whim I popped into the custom woodworking store on Main just to have a look around. I love all things wood. Of course I’m not going to put a custom built all wood dining room table on the back of my bicycle, but the one they had on display was beautiful. The lady minding the shop was charming. Her Husband and daughter are the woodworkers. She wanted to hear all about my trip when she found out I was bicycling across the country. I gave her and her friend this address. She told me I could hang out in her store (she had a big cushy chair right up front). Who does that? I was humbled by her hospitality.

There’s a big climbing festival going on in Lander this weekend. I’m not a rock climber, but it looks like this is the place to be if you are. (I know some of you are into climbing, you should take note and put this on your bucket list!)

Dinner at the Cowfish Restaurant was amazing. I had the ribs. I was served by the owner. We met out front and chatted and when I came in to eat he picked up my table and served me. I told him the ribs were as good as Pappy’s in St. Louis… they might actually have been better… He told me to chill there as long as it took to finish this post.

I’ve been passing historic landmarks making reference to the Oregon Trial, like yesterday when I passed Split Rock. I’ve been curious what the remnants of the Oregon Trail look like. Today I had my curiosity answered. Shortly out of Sweet Water I saw the trail, complete with ruts made by steel clad wooden wagon wheels. It really makes you marvel at our history when you see it imprinted on the land.

A portion of the Oregon Trial between Sweet Water WY and Lander WY.

Day 65

Jeffrey City WY, 68 miles

Addendum: Big John reached out to me this morning in regard to yesterday’s post, he reminded me that there is a decent shoulder from the Kansas/Colorado border all the way to Pueblo. I stand corrected. Memory is a bitch, so is math.

It’s difficult to describe, no, impossible, the openness and the majesty of the high plains in Wyoming. It would take someone with writing skills far beyond mine. The answer is to see it for yourself. I now understand why painters paint.

I stopped at Split Rock National Historic Monument. Split Rock is a formation in the Rattlesnake Range that was used as a landmark when navigating the Oregon Trail. Migrants traveling west could see the formation for an entire day before reaching it. After passing the formation, they could see it for two days as it grew smaller and smaller behind them.

I made excellent progress in the morning. I covered 40 miles in 4 hours. That’s a good pace for me, then the wind came up. The last 27 miles took 4 hours. It pays to get an early start. I will be starting early again tomorrow. I anticipate a day, maybe two and I will be off the high plains and into the mountains, leaving the high plains wind tunnel behind me.

Perhaps I’ve written this before or maybe I just thought about writing it, but there are times when I wonder if my mother and father would be proud of me for what I’m doing. That question can’t be answered. It’s enough to know that my children are.

Day 64

Rawlins WY, 44 miles

The wind blows from 9:30 AM til 3:30 PM… If you’re lucky. They don’t call this windy Wyoming for nothing.

I’ve been on the road for an hour now, I started this morning at 6:30 AM. There was no movement from the prairie grass when I started out, now the grass is just beginning to wave at me. I imagine it saying, “be patient, give me a couple more hours, I’m gathering strength so you can fully appreciate me…”

Another beautiful day. Once cycling gets into your blood, all you have to do is get on the bike in the morning to feel the joy. This trip across America is not an attempt to reach back into my youth. It’s more about making up for lost time. The fact that I love cycling so much but have spent the majority of my life working and helping raise three wonderful children is part of the reason I do this now. It’s also about the freedom. Freedom isn’t about flags, slogans or the elimination of taxes. We need to take care of each other, not live for ourselves. Freedom is about the ability to get on the road and see and feel this great country, and yes, meet people of every stipe and connect with them. I was reminded today (out of nowhere) of the John Mellencamp song, Jack and Diane. He had it all wrong. It’s not about “life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone,” it’s about living life fully for as long as you can, and finding the thrill in the most unlikely places, and where you least expect it.

Fourteen miles of today’s route put me on I-80, it was the only way to get to Rawlins. I do not like riding on the shoulder of an Interstate. (I rarely do it.) The shoulders are filled with hazards you can’t believe. I knew if I made it all the way to my exit without a flat tire I would be lucky, sure enough, less than a thousand yards from the exit I picked this up…

I remember back in 2019 when I did the Southern Tier (San Diego to St. Augustine Florida) I posted a photo almost identical to this one. This is a road hazard that tube tires have difficulty with. I wish that weren’t the case. I’m of two minds when it comes to tubes vs. tubeless. I’m going to reserve judgement, but I think a tubeless setup would have handled this no problem.

Day 63

Saratoga WY, 67 miles

Traveling across the country by bicycle is all about the feelings you have. Trepidation, frustration, hesitation, elation, and at the end of the day, vindication.

My Morning started outside the Shell gas station talking to a USDA Fire crew. I asked them how long ago the fire that devastated the Willow Creek Pass area occurred. One of the crew told me that was five years ago. I was glad to learn that the forest is recovering well, according to the crew. The conversation moved on to my bicycle and my tour. The crew member I was chatting with commented that she had panniers for her bicycle that were the same as mine. It’s odd how you can be having a conversation with someone and only realize later what you should have asked. In this case, I should have asked what tours she had done, but I didn’t think of that until after they were gone.

It turned out to be a beautiful day for riding. The wind did come up and it was brutal at times. The wind lasted from 10 AM until 3 PM. Even still, I enjoyed the day throughly and managed to log 67 miles. I was elated when I began the day’s ride and discovered there was actually a shoulder on the road! Then, 11 miles out, it ended. I have to say that for the almost 400 miles of travel through Colorado, the state was kind enough to give me 11 miles of road with decent shoulder. During that brief period it was nice to be able to enjoy something other than “white line, white knuckle” riding. regrettably it was for only a short distance. The really good news is that once I crossed the state line into Wyoming there was a very nice shoulder to ride on and it continued throughout the entire day. So day one in Wyoming has already given me more than double the miles of good cycling road than I got from all of Colorado. Keep it up Wyoming!

I’m staying at a church here in Saratoga that hosts cyclists. It’s an amazing place. I’m floored by the generosity and the trust that goes in to providing this service. It is truly a marvel and it makes me appreciate the service they are providing. I am very grateful.

I’m no longer in “Colorful Colorado.” Wyoming did not have a welcome sign, so this is the best I can do!

Day 62

Walden CO, 65 miles

A very quiet but beautiful day. Lots of riding again with no shoulder but today the traffic was light so I hardly noticed. The first 10 miles followed the Colorado River then the route turned north into a magnificent 25 mile canyon. I’m not sure if it was one canyon or a series. The pitch was gentle and the route followed Willow Creek almost all the way to the Summit. When I reached Willow Creek Pass at 9,683 ft. it was already noon. I’m not the fastest cyclist on the planet. (Notice I did not say what time I left camp. As I recall, packing the panniers required the use of a headlamp…)

Progress up the canyon was punctuated by several wardrobe changes. Down jacket and windbreaker. Windbreaker only. Down jacket, windbreaker, and rain shell. It tried to rain but couldn’t quite manage to do more than spit. The rain shell was primarily on to provide another layer of warmth.

Once over the pass I was in Colorado High Plains country. The wind was blowing. I had to use the windbreaker most of the day even though the sun was out. It was blowing with attitude. I would guess a pretty steady 30 MPH. Fortunately I was going north and the wind was out of the west. That makes for only mild resistance to forward progress but requires some effort to keep the bike from getting blown off the shoulder. Light traffic made this a matter of only mild concern.

When I got to Walden I called the Sherif to let him know I was planning to sleep in the city park. No problem at all. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be in Wyoming tomorrow night.

Addendum: I can’t take responsibility for spelling Sheriff with one “f.” Spell check gave me the option of that spelling and I took it, trusting soul that I am. The Sheriff might be a Sherif, but it’s unlikely he is a direct descendent of Muhammad’s daughter Fatima…

Beautiful hillside on the way up to Willow Creek Pass.

Day 58

Frisco CO (And Surrounding Area), 0 miles

I’m feeling better. I’m going to rest for another three days then hit the road again on Monday. My plan is to reach Florence Oregon on August 12. That is 34 days of riding covering 1,755 miles. That’s a bit over 51 miles per day. I can’t say for sure if I will make that date, but I should at least be close.

When I was planning this tour, way back when, I was hoping to finish on August 1. While I may not hit the 12th, I’m happy with the way things are going.

I’m going to take a break from posting for three days. Not because I’m getting tired of writing, but it will be three days before I have another road story to share. If you’ve been following along, thank you, the story will resume on the 11th.

Meanwhile, I’m going to enjoy this part of Colorado and get ready for the final stage of the tour!

Frisco is a cool town.

Day 57

Frisco CO (And Surrounding Area), 0 miles

I’m still laying low. Whatever happened to me on Monday, I’m pretty sure I brought on myself. I let myself get dehydrated and I over exerted. (That was the day I spent looking for camp grounds that had no vacancies.) Some pretty serious congestion set in by Monday night. it’s just now beginning to break up. It will be a few more days before I can get back on the bike. In the mean time, I’ve been enjoying the town of Frisco as much as I can, and It is a charming town. I have a feeling I’ll be back in the winter to ski the major resorts all within a short drive of this town.

While I’ve been resting and trying to get healthy again, I’ve been planning out the remainder of my tour. I know the route of course, that is well established but I’ve been planning each day’s ride length and end-of-day stay. I should have that all sorted out by tomorrow. When I started the tour, there were so many miles in front of me I didn’t put much stock in where each day would end. I’ve been averaging a little over 50 miles per day up to this point. I want to push that up just a bit between here and the finish if I can.

It is really difficult not getting on the bike. When you’ve done it for so many days for such long periods of time, it’s difficult to stop. It feels like you are cheating yourself by not riding. There’s a good lesson to be learned there that I hope will carry-over once I complete the tour and resume my “normal” life. I will say that the last few days have afforded me some time to read a couple of good books. I read: Lincoln The War President, The Gettysburg Lectures by Gabor S Boritt, Professor of Civil War Studies at Gettysburg College and This House of Sky, by Ivan Doig. The first book will help me to plan a future “Civil War Tour” that I hope to undertake (not necessarily on a bicycle). I learned a lot about Lincoln and our country’s history. The book provided historical background that is enormously helpful when trying to put current events into context. The second book is just an amazingly enjoyable read. It is unique in its language, story telling, and its perspective on living in some of the most hardscrabble parts of America in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The life led by early homesteaders in this country makes the effort required to ride a bicycle across the country pale by comparison.

I think a lot of people drive out from Denver to enjoy the 50 or so miles of bike path in Summit County.

Day 56

Frisco CO (And Surrounding Area), 0 miles

Happy 4th of July!

The 4th of July Parade in Frisco was great. Frisco is ground zero for six Colorado ski resorts. Breckenridge, Copper Mountain, Keystone, Arapaho Basin, Loveland, and Vail.

My favorite entry in the parade was by the Summit Team. Not exactly sure what they are all about, but I love what they were doing today. They drove an old pickup truck up into the mountains and loaded it with snow. A fellow in the back of the truck was throwing snow balls into the crowd as the pickup made its way down the parade route. I look forward to coming back to Frisco when the snow is more plentiful!

The town of Breckenridge was founded in 1859. It was originally populated by miners panning for gold from the Blue River. The town was named after miner Thomas Breckenridge. The town was renamed Breckinridge after Vice Pres. John C. Breckinridge in hopes of gaining a post office. When Breckinridge (with an “i”) joined the Confederacy at the start of the Civil War. The residents changed the name of the town back to Breckenridge (with an “e”). It’s a wonder I can spell it at all…

The parade down Main St. was closed out by a 49’er and his mule train.

Day 55

Frisco CO (And Surrounding Area), 0 miles

As I mentioned yesterday, I’ll be spending the next week in this area. I can’t think of a better place to lay-over. There’s going to be a big 4th of July celebration in Frisco on Tuesday with free live music. I’ll be there for that. Then on Thursday, there will be free live music in the Frisco City Park. I’ll be there for that one as well. I plan to take a few side-trips up to some nearby ski areas, including Copper Mountain and Vail. I won’t be adding these miles to my tour mileage, but when all is said and done, I expect I’ll cover plenty of miles over the course of the next four or five days.

Today I rode out to Dillon and Keystone and then back to Frisco. That took me over Swan Mountain. It was a surprisingly long and strenuous day of riding. I was carrying full gear because I was looking for a campground with first-come-first-serve openings, but there were none to be had. I’m back in Frisco at the Snowshoe Motel. I was surprised to see they had a vacancy, so I grabbed it.

Looking up at some of the ski runs just outside Breckenridge. Looks pretty Blue. Got to be some Black that you can’t see from this vantage point.

Day 54

Frisco CO, 34 miles

Leaving Alma. Alma is the highest incorporated city in the U.S. at 10,578 ft.

I enjoyed the music festival in Alma last night from back stage! I pitched my tent behind the stage… Alma is a cool town. Definitely a hippie town. That includes the Mayor who was the MC for the festival. This is the town where old hippies go to retire, and that’s not a bad thing.

Today was all about making it over Hoosier Pass and crossing the Continental Divide. A momentous day for this tour.

After a slow descent on bad road surface I pulled into the town of Breckenridge. If you’ve ever been to Park City UT, Breckenridge is Park City on steroids. This is the town that Park City would love to be. The Main Street is a mile long with nothing by high-end shops and eateries. I stopped into the Breckenridge Brewery for a burger and a beer. When I found out the bar tender was a skier I asked him what his favorite ski areas are. He ticked off three or four, but I got the feeling his two favorites were Copper and A-Basin. I asked him about Breckenridge and he just shrugged his shoulders. When I look up at the slopes from downtown, all I see is Blue. I suspect there are some challenges hidden out-of-sight, but if they are there, you can’t see them from downtown.

As I was making my way down Main St., a man stopped me to ask questions about the bike. He was really interested in what it was made of, how much weight I was carrying and where the bike came from. I told him it was a Bill Davidson, made in Seattle. I told him Bill is the premier bike builder in Seattle. That leads me into another subject. I need to thank Bill and Marc once again for taking care of me on this tour. If they hadn’t provided me with the right cassette for this type of tour when I reached St. Louis, I never would have made it over Hoosier Pass!

I reached Frisco towards the end of the day and was fortunate to find a motel that wasn’t fully booked. I checked in for the night. I plan to spend the next seven days in this area. There’s lots of National Forest as well as Forest Service Campgrounds. This part of Colorado is a hiker, mountain biker, trekker paradise. Plus there are just a lot of people here enjoying the beautiful views and (so far) excellent weather.

I had to layer-up going over Hoosier Pass because it was windy and chilly.

Hoosier Pass. Elevation 11,539 ft. The Continental Divide… Check!

Day 53

Fairplay CO, 0 miles (Rest Day)

The next week is going to be chill. I arrived in the Mountains of Colorado a week ahead of my schedule. Rather that keep going, I’m going to enjoy this place. Why not. The mountains have always called to me. Since skiing is my winter passion, this will give me the perfect opportunity to explore the mountains and resorts here and make some plans for future winter visits.

I’m staying in Fairplay for the night then I’m heading up over Hoosier Pass to Breckenridge. I’ll be crossing the Continental Divide tomorrow! Fairplay is right on the Middle Fork of the South Platte River. There are a lot of Anglers in the river here.

“It ain’t what you got, it’s what you make” —Song Lyric, Unknown Artist

What does that mean? I think it means the best experiences are the ones you make for yourself. This tour has been a joy, a revelation, and yes, an experience. The good news is it’s not over yet.

Talking to a local I learned there is a music festival in Alma, just six mile up the road from here. Heading up there soon. Probably will be there tonight instead of Fairplay.

The Historic Hotel in Fairplay Colorado. Fairplay is also known as South Park City, don’t let that confuse you.

Day 52

Fairplay CO, 50 miles, climb 2,520 ft.

The elevation here in Fairplay is 9,953 ft. They sell cans of oxygen in the motel lobby. The sign says, “don’t let the elevation ruin your vacation.” I’ll try not to. I don’t mean any disrespect to persons that have health issues, but I’m certainly glad I was able to ride my bicycle here from Virginia without the need for supplemental oxygen…

Last night two riders joined me in the bunkhouse in Guffey. They were from the Neatherlands. They had come all the way from Silverthorn in one day. I was impressed to say the least. Since they were leaving bear country, they gave me their can of bear spray to carry. I promised I would give it to the first east bound cyclist I found once I got to Oregon.

I stopped in the town of Hartsel on the way here. That was going to be my destination for the day. It is not a big town. Restaurant, convenience store, coffee shop, that’s about it. They allow camping behind the restaurant but that wasn’t speaking to me today. I pulled into the espresso shop and had a double espresso and a vanilla bean milkshake, The owner of the shop was a gracious host. We chatted for a half an hour and then her husband and his best friend came into the shop and the four of us had a lively conversation. It turned out we had a fair amount of lumber experience in our backgrounds, oddly enough, we spent several minutes talking about lumber drying techniques. (I know that sounds boring, but actually it’s not, I’ll leave it at that.) The shop was fascinating. It turned out to be a combination, coffee shop, rock shop, and art gallery. I was impressed by the hand-crafted Indian art. The Talking Sticks were beautiful. Who can’t use a talking stick? Truly, a custom that performs a valuable service, I dare say our leaders could benefit from the use of a Talking Stick. I bought a Sterling Silver ring for $12. That won’t be a burden to carry, and it will be a nice reminder of my journey.

My ride into Hartsel was fairly windy. Without looking at the sky I decided to continue on to Fairplay. About five miles outside town the wind came up again but this time it brought some steady rain with it. It rained hard for another five miles. I was glad when it stopped. I didn’t mind they wind really, It dried out my rain jacket. I was wearing three layers so I was able to maintain my body temperature despite the wind. The wind was in my face at times, but not enough to take the joy out of the ride.

There was one thing trying to take the joy out of the ride however, that was the cars and trucks on the road. Hwy 9 to Breckenridge is not for the feint of heart. There is no shoulder most of the way, where there is one, it is mere 12” at most, hardly enough to even be called a shoulder. It seemed like yesterday a larger than usual number of drivers were intent on not giving the guy on the bicycle any room. Back at my espresso stop one of the guys told me he won’t ride his bicycle on Hwy 9 any longer. I took note of that comment at the time, but his meaning was driven home to me by the time I reached Fairplay.

Back on TransAm Day 1, I met Brett from Maine. He was on sabbatical and had only about 50 days to do the TransAm. That is world class riding when you are self-supported. I got a really nice text message from him this evening that he had made it to Astoria! He had completed the ride in 52 days! He averaged more than 100 miles per day and he doesn’t cheat on his stats like I do. He counted his rest days when calculating his average miles per day! Congratulations Brett. That is an awesome achievement! I wouldn’t mind riding with you some day, but you would need to take a bit more leisurely approach for me to be able to keep up with you!

The real highlight of my day came shortly after the rain stopped. I noticed a mother bird and her chicks poking around in the grass a few yards off the road. (I did some research over dinner and my best guess is that I was looking at a Hooded Merganser and her chicks. There was a wildlife sanctuary nearby.) When the mother spotted me she ducked into the taller grass further away. She was chirping at the chicks to follow and they were chirping at one another to know which direction to go. The grass was taller than the chicks. Three of the chicks started moving towards the road, definitely the wrong direction. Two of them got turned around and headed back into the grass but the one closest to me became frightened and didn’t know what to do. The chick was slightly in front of me so I pushed the bike forward to try and encourage the little fellow to head back into the grass. Just the opposite occurred. The little guy scurried all the way across the road and into the grass on the other side. A miracle in itself really, since it was a very busy highway. I knew this guy would never be reunited with it’s mother and siblings now that it was on the wrong side of the road, so I pushed my bike across the road and went after the chick. I found it hiding, silently, in the grass about 10 yards from the shoulder. I was able to scoop it up into my hands and after waiting for traffic to clear, take it across the road and into the grass on the other side where it belonged. It didn’t make a sound after I scooped it up and as I was heading back to the other side of the road, but once it heard its siblings chirping it let out a few of its own. I placed it in the grass a safe distance from the road and headed back to my bicycle feeling happy and a tiny bit proud of myself for giving Mother Nature a helping hand.

Current Creek Pass, 9,404 ft. My first real view of snow capped peaks.

Day 51

Guffey CO, 32 miles, climb 4,377 ft.

Today dished out some wicked climbing, but I made it to Guffey before the Bakery closed at 3 PM, so that’s a very good day. To be perfectly honest, I am tired. I’m very happy to have shelter for the night, at the Guffey Garage Bunkhouse.

There were three climbs today. The first coming out of Canon City was 6 miles long. The second was 3 miles long, and the third was 2 miles long. I’m not sure what the grades were but I can report that at least half the time on all three climbs I was in my lowest gear and I never made it higher than the next one up from the lowest gear. Of course that actually tells you nothing because every cyclist is different. What I can tell you for sure is that if I had not gotten the 11-32 cassette installed in St. Louis I probably would not have made it to Guffey before midnight!

Do I miss the green vastness of Kansas and Southeast Colorado prairie grasses? I enjoyed them but I don’t miss them. Growing up in Seattle I am charmed by mountains. Today was thrilling because I’m back in mountains and it reminded me of home. Not completely. These mountains are different of course. More rugged certainly for starters but there are subtle differences. The type of rocks are very different, as are the trees. In the Pacific Northwest, the mountains are dominated by Fir and Hemlock trees, here I noticed mostly Pine trees. I stopped along-side the road today to look at rocks. I picked up a small rock that looks to my eye like it has flakes of silver in it. I actually have no idea if it is silver or not, so I threw it in my pannier to ask a rock expert first chance I get. It could easily be galena, pyrite, magnetite, or maybe silver!

Tomorrow will be another day of climbing but it doesn’t look like the climbing will be as difficult as today’s was. I probably shouldn’t be saying that, since I really have no idea what lies ahead of me…

My bunkhouse in Guffey. It’s a mile and a half (uphill) off the route, but totally worth it.

Day 50

Canon City CO, 48 miles

”Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving.” —Albert Einstein

Someone asked me, “where do you get your quotes?” The answer I gave was, “here, there, and everywhere…” Take a look at the photo below for an example.

Here’s another one: “Naïveté is the mother of adventure.” —Rinker Buck

It sure is! Sometimes the less you know about what is in front of you the better. This is my second crossing and I’m still amazed at the things I don’t know and the things I learn every day. Possibly the biggest thing I learn, and relearn, is living with uncertainty. What will I eat, where will I sleep, do I have enough to drink, can I keep my bike on the road! These questions and many more pervade my mind throughout the day. As my bar friend back in Ordway asked me, very seriously, “what do you Mother expletives think of all day as you are pedaling down the road?” My answer was simple, “Nothing, and a lot.” Sometimes my mind is blank. When the terrain has me focused on the next mile to gain, my mind is focused on what is immediately in front of me. When the progress is easy, that’s when things get expansive. I think about what I’d like to write about when I get off the bike at the end of the day, or I simply take in the sights, sounds and smells with curiosity and wonder. It really doesn’t matter if there are answers to the questions that present themselves, what matters is experiencing the moment.

Finally, here’s another quote: As Abraham Lincoln once remarked about a peddler’s pantaloons for sale, “big enough for any man, small enough for any boy.” I hope you find something interesting in this blog, regardless of the size pantaloon your may wear…

Quotes happen.

Day 49

Pueblo CO, 0 miles, Rest Day

I went completely overboard yesterday and found two books to buy. It could be I’m loosing my mind, I don’t know. I’m excited about both. The first is titled Lincoln The War President, The Gettysburg Lectures Edited by Gabor Boritt. I’m really excited about this one. It’s a paperback, so it won’t be hard to carry. Better than that, I did not know that every year on the anniversary of Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address, Gettysburg College invites a noted historian to give a public lecture. These are serious lectures presented to an audience that has not made the study of history its life’s work. I’m excited because attending one of these lectures gives me a new bucket list item. The book contains seven lectures. I’m going to learn a lot about both Lincoln and our county’s history from this read.

The second book is hard bound. I know, what could I possibly have been thinking? It’s likely I’ll mail this one home. Sometimes you are browsing books and one simply jumps into your hands and there isn’t any way you can put it back on the shelf. At least that’s what happed to me yesterday morning with this one. The book is Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman. Since I know very little about Norse Mythology but I do know it’s a fascinating subject, I decided to get it. Norse Mythology has had a surprising amount influence on our western culture and I’m looking forward to discovering more about that influence. I decided nothing could go wrong reading a book written by Neil Gaiman.

Today will be spent airing things out, resting, resupplying a few essential items and enjoying a good read over a cup of good coffee. Perhaps what makes today so exciting for me is that it is a very different experience than being on the bike. That said, I’m looking forward to getting back on the bike tomorrow morning. I’m going to have a light dinner tonight and hit the road early tomorrow morning.

I had a lively conversation with Tom. He’s a smart dude and he can play the Marxophone pretty well too!

Day 48

Pueblo CO, 0 miles, Rest Day

People I have talked to in towns along the way have confirmed my suspicion that there are a lot fewer cyclists on the TransAmerica Bicycle Route than in pre-COVID years. It’s a shame really because almost all the towns along the route are small and could really benefit from the stimulus provided by people passing through. I wish I had kept a more accurate count, but my number probably isn’t far off, I have passed about two dozen people heading East since I started my tour. Going West, I’ve been passed by no more than a half-dozen people, and those were in the first few days out of Yorktown, none since then. I was told in one town recently that in the past, as many as 50 cyclists would be in town on a single day. That number is just hard to comprehend based on my current experience. I don’t want to make any rash judgements about the mind-set of people in the world we live in now compared to the one we lived in just four years ago, but I think it’s clear that now things are different. Social Scientists studying us years from now will have a lot of work to do to explain these times, economically, socially, and politically.

I have a goal on rest days, besides resting, it is to visit bookstores, bakeries, and bike shops. Yes, the places I visit have to start with the letter “B”. I also give acknowledgement to the letter “C” by visiting coffee shops. There is a river walk here in Pueblo that people are quite proud of, It’s about a mile long. I’m going to take that in later this morning. Don’t think by this that I have any preference for the letter “R.” It so happens there are two book stores only a short distance from the walk. One of them is an outlet for used books acquired from the Pueblo Public Library. That should prove to be a treasure trove. You may be wondering, does he carry books with him in his panniers? No, I don’t, but I am thinking about it. If you’ve been following these stories you know that I have bought one book already, and promptly mailed it home. It will be a fine read and a fine souvenir. You never know, I may find another.

The Arkansas River as it makes it’s way into Pueblo. Muddy from recent rains and Spring snowmelt. The Rockies got snow just two weeks ago. That’s not the only reason I started my tour in the East, but it is one of them.

Day 47

Pueblo CO, 55 miles

Today I exited the Great Plains of the U.S. They stretch all across Southeast Colorado to Eastern Kansas. Kansas is noted for its abundance of Sunflowers and Black Eyed Susans. Oddly enough, yesterday here at the west end of the Great Plains, they were both on display in abundance. At times my panniers were brushing up against them alongside the road. This must be the time when they start to come into bloom.

By far for me the windiest part of the plains crossing was Southeast Colorado. I spent one night trying to sleep through sustained 30 MPH wind. At times I thought the rain fly on my tent was going to be blown away. I found out the next day at breakfast that a 30 MPH wind here on the Southeast Colorado plains is what locals call a “breeze.”

The small towns spread across Southeast Colorado named this part of the TransAmerican Bicycle Route “The Prairie Horizons Trail.” That is a great name, and fitting. When you are cycling this broad expanse of prairie you set your sights on the horizon and pedal, when you reach the spot you’ve been working to gain you look around and there are more horizons — in every direction. There are no trees here to obstruct your view, or obstruct the wind. Now I know another reason why people ride this route from West to East, besides the prevailing winds, traveling West to East provides a more-or-less steady downhill ride. In my East to West crossing I’ve gained about 3,000 feet of elevation since I left Kansas. The net is 3,000 feet. It’s a bit more when you take into account rollers. I definitely think it’s more of a challenge to do the route the way I chose to do it. That does not make me a better cyclist, it’s just the way things worked out.

The town of Pueblo Colorado where I end my plains crossing has an interesting history. It was established in 1842 by fur traders that built a fort of mud and logs and named it “El Pueblo.” It lasted just three years when the Ute Indians took over the fort and occupied it. Eventually just a short distance down river the town of Pueblo was established. It later became a hub for gold and silver mining, and soon the railroads that followed. Both the Santa Fe and the Denver and Rio Grande laid tracks through Pueblo. Pueblo to this day has a steel mill that is one of the largest west of the Mississippi. The Arkansas River runs through Pueblo. I have a lot to learn about our country’s geography, I had no idea.

Tomorrow begins my northerly traverse of the Rocky Mountains. The contrast in the landscape as I turn north I expect will be dramatic.

I have covered 2,743 miles. I have 1,554 to go!

The “Great Plains” are a challenge and a beauty hard to describe.

Day 46

Ordway CO, 90 miles

Just when you think you’ve done your best, you somehow find a way to do a little better. Today’s 90 miles comes as something of a surprise to me, but I am happy to take it.

I really didn’t have that many options. The towns with any services in this part of Eastern Colorado are 30 to 40 miles apart. If you’re going to cover more than one town, it means stretching your legs. I’m happy my destination town today was at 90 and not 100. It was so hot today I had to stop at 85 miles and find shade or bad things could have happened. I found shade and rested for 30 minutes. The last 5 miles was a breeze. It was also getting to that point in the afternoon when it was starting to cool off just slightly, which helped a lot.

They say that desperation is the mother of invention, it can also be the father of stupidity…

Around mid-day I was stopped on the road-side hydrating and I heard a clank-clank, clank-clank, behind me. I looked back to see what was going on and there was a car approaching with no tire on the right rear wheel. I crossed over to the other side of the road because I wanted no part of that action. As the car was passing, I waved at the driver, I intended to tell him that his repair strategy (whatever it was) was not going to turn out well. I guess he didn’t see me because he just kept on going. Sure enough, five miles down the road, there he was stopped and going nowhere. The wheel had folded in on itself and the car was resting on the rear axle. The driver had managed to turn a $100 tire plus the cost of road-side assistance into a nearly totaled vehicle. I pulled up and asked him if I could make a call for him. He told me he had a phone (I was mildly surprised) and had already called a friend. He then asked me how far to the next town. (Trust me, cyclists know these things!) I told him four miles, but there were no services. The next town after that with any services was another 40 miles. He thanked me, although I’m not sure why, it’s not like I was giving him good news.

I pulled into my destination hot, tired and as I was about to find out, not smiling. I was drinking a cold water and a woman and her friend walked by and she said to me, “I’ve never seen a cyclist smiling.” I explained that was because I was hot and tired, then I smiled at her and said, “there, you made me smile!” We chatted briefly. I explained that hot and tired comes naturally after covering 90 miles in 90 degree heat. I think that made a connection.

After hydrating, I found the local bar and went in to order a Budweiser, I learned they had run out of the stuff. It was then I realized I was in Colorado, I asked sheepishly, “do you have Coors?” The bartender said, “of course, and it’s on tap.” I said “that’s perfect.” (I exaggerate at times to ingratiate myself.) After chatting for a bit with my bar mates, I learned that the beer I was drinking was being paid for my my new friends. In return I bought a pizza and shared it around. There’s nothing quite like a small town. The fellow sitting next to me had his dog with him in the bar (again, not something you’re likely to see outside a small town). It was a six month old Australian Shepard, Blue Heeler mix. One of the cutest dogs I’ve ever seen. We became friends instantly.

There’s a hotel in town but I didn’t like the fact that they had a sign on the door, “no bicycles allowed in the hotel.” I have chosen to sleep in the city park instead. There simply is no room in the word for that sort of prejudice… Besides, I never let my bike out of my sight, it’s my horse and my best friend on the road.

Memorial sculpture to John Egbers. Don’t drive distracted please.