The last 2 nights we slept in Liberal, KS and tonight we will sleep in Guymon, OK. I took advantage of the few daytime hours to include a few extra stories before they go forgotten.
My story today is a short one. A distance of 40 miles from the Holiday Inn Express in Liberal to a Super 8 in Guymon. I left the Holiday Inn and turned left on 15th Ave. I was going the wrong way. I sensed it immediately, but I needed verification. There was a police squad car coming towards me. I stopped him and showed him my directions. He turned me around and set me on course. Hwy 54 is referred to as Old Hwy 54, but no “west”. For about 5 miles and still no sign with “Hwy 54 W.” About 5 miles and still no sign with “West.” Again I am faced with a decision. I called my back-up. No answer. I took my chances. Five miles west I saw another sign. This time it said “Tyrone”. I knew I was on the right track.
The highway was well paved with a very favorable wind. My speeds were accelerated. I was traveling at 13 to 18 mph, the road was quite level and mostly straight. Perhaps because of the heat, the remains of a few animals, some of which appear to be domesticated lay strewn on the edge of the shoulder.
On occasions I saw a lonely butterfly (Monarchs). There are other butterflies here, too. They are yellow in color; they are sometimes hidden in the bright yellow clumps of flowers growing by the roadside. There are also grasshoppers and preying mantis.
The flowers seem to decorate my journey and give me a pleasant feeling. During my ride through Kansas I noticed aluminum can trashed by the roadside, seemingly the empty can tossed from a fast moving semi. This was, perhaps, from my perspective, every 2 or 3 miles apart. Frequently, however, the crickets serenade my passing. I feel like an Olympian being cheered on his/her way to the victory stand.
The ride today seemed short and not complicated by too many semis. Relatively speaking there were no hills. I did change gears about 2 or 3 times. One thing is quite noticeable, rambling, tumbling weed inhabit this state. The hillsides are covered with brown grass and the trees are stunted, or appear to be very young trees. I’ve also noticed along the highway, trees are spaced to accommodate enough roots that the moisture in the soil can keep alive. Unfortunately that is not always the case.
Long trains, three of these, passed me laden with cargo, heading west. One mil long would not be an exaggeration. Pam was waiting for me at the Super 8. I sat in the shade and drank a lot of milk. While sitting there, Greg Parks, a railroad worker, came up and spoke to me. He was elated that I was doing the ride to LA on a bicycle. He dipped his hand into his pocket and handed me some money. He took a picture of me on his cell phone and sent it to his wife. Pam took a picture of both of us. I gave him my card. He was surprised that I was 78!. He mentioned his father was 83,but was not doing as well as I am. I told him to start drinking Ovaltine and brandy.
Monday, September 29
Sunday, September 28
Day 13 Sat. Sept 27, 2008
There is the pain of the ride.
There is the pleasure
The observations
The conversations
The method of the ride
The loneliness of the ride
The hope/good conclusion
When I began the ride from Utica Road, I was accompanied by 3 very successful riders, Jim Bassett, Gordie Bailey and Mindy Ahler/Olmstead. Their enthusiasm for my cause was extremely overwhelming and very highly appreciated. They assisted me in making good judgments for my future ride. Their positive moods and attitudes plus the spontaneous humor gave buoyancy to the ride and I thank them implicitly for their friendship and prayers.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always worn under shorts under my riding gear. I did the same when I prepared for the marathons, but as I have been riding, I realized I had to make adjustments to ease the terrible pain which I experienced. The last day before Gordy left Sibley, IA, I posed the question to him about my discomfort. He immediately responded. In the end I shed my seat cushion and my briefs. Now I only feel the numbness in my bottom and my hands. Less pain, better and longer ride. Hee Haw!
As I leave the Midwest, traveling (pedaling) southwest to California, the tall, green trees seem to be getting shorter and I am unable to recognize what kind of trees I’m seeing. In addition, the amount of road kill from excessive speed tells me that there are fewer and fewer animals the warmer climes of this country. I also see fewer Monarch Butterflies. Yesterday, however, I was totally surprised. I came across 2 huge deer killed off Hwy 56 between Montezuma and Copeland. The landscape was completely covered by large cattle farms. I saw only one large, wooded area, which was enclosed not too far from where I saw the dead deer. The thing that amazes me is that skunks, rabbits and other small animals were not as frequent in this area of the country, so obviously those 2 lovely animals were completely out of their regular location.
I was told by Jim and Gordie that riding across America is a very personal and pleasurable experience. And so it is! I met semi drivers, couples on the road moving to a new home, a special young man from Baltimore by the name of Antonio Deener, who is a telecommunications contractor. He travels in his truck across America working alone, searching for the best contracts in the telecommunication industry to keep his wife and four children together. Today as I was writing, Pam handed me the phone and said, “Antonio Deener would like to talk to you.” Antonio was concerned about me because he had been following our blog and I hadn’t gotten anything written for a day or two. I was overwhelmed. We talked for a long while and he promised to call again.
I have tried to keep a positive attitude about the raging wind. It can be quite useful and Kansas is taking advantage of its power. They are harnessing the wind with expensive turbines, a network of them. Personally, I am doing my best to understand how I can utilize the currents of wind that slow me down. I haven’t yet figured it out!
There is the pleasure
The observations
The conversations
The method of the ride
The loneliness of the ride
The hope/good conclusion
When I began the ride from Utica Road, I was accompanied by 3 very successful riders, Jim Bassett, Gordie Bailey and Mindy Ahler/Olmstead. Their enthusiasm for my cause was extremely overwhelming and very highly appreciated. They assisted me in making good judgments for my future ride. Their positive moods and attitudes plus the spontaneous humor gave buoyancy to the ride and I thank them implicitly for their friendship and prayers.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always worn under shorts under my riding gear. I did the same when I prepared for the marathons, but as I have been riding, I realized I had to make adjustments to ease the terrible pain which I experienced. The last day before Gordy left Sibley, IA, I posed the question to him about my discomfort. He immediately responded. In the end I shed my seat cushion and my briefs. Now I only feel the numbness in my bottom and my hands. Less pain, better and longer ride. Hee Haw!
As I leave the Midwest, traveling (pedaling) southwest to California, the tall, green trees seem to be getting shorter and I am unable to recognize what kind of trees I’m seeing. In addition, the amount of road kill from excessive speed tells me that there are fewer and fewer animals the warmer climes of this country. I also see fewer Monarch Butterflies. Yesterday, however, I was totally surprised. I came across 2 huge deer killed off Hwy 56 between Montezuma and Copeland. The landscape was completely covered by large cattle farms. I saw only one large, wooded area, which was enclosed not too far from where I saw the dead deer. The thing that amazes me is that skunks, rabbits and other small animals were not as frequent in this area of the country, so obviously those 2 lovely animals were completely out of their regular location.
I was told by Jim and Gordie that riding across America is a very personal and pleasurable experience. And so it is! I met semi drivers, couples on the road moving to a new home, a special young man from Baltimore by the name of Antonio Deener, who is a telecommunications contractor. He travels in his truck across America working alone, searching for the best contracts in the telecommunication industry to keep his wife and four children together. Today as I was writing, Pam handed me the phone and said, “Antonio Deener would like to talk to you.” Antonio was concerned about me because he had been following our blog and I hadn’t gotten anything written for a day or two. I was overwhelmed. We talked for a long while and he promised to call again.
I have tried to keep a positive attitude about the raging wind. It can be quite useful and Kansas is taking advantage of its power. They are harnessing the wind with expensive turbines, a network of them. Personally, I am doing my best to understand how I can utilize the currents of wind that slow me down. I haven’t yet figured it out!
Day 12 Fri, Sept 26, 2008
On Hwy 56, I rode through small towns such as Ensign, Montezuma and Copeland. The state of Kansas seems larger than the whole world! All before me and around me were large fields, some unplowed, some filled with grazing herds, and large silos. On railway lines, trains were patiently waiting at grain elevators to be filled, to be shipped to various corners of America.
There are multiple semis moving at breakneck speed creating a vacuum, attempting to drag me onto the road. At the same time, some of them are trailing the scent of animal manure along the straight and narrow highway. Alas, the highway began to lose its shoulders and safety once more became an issue. The speeding vehicles gave me a sense of insecurity because at any given moment I could be swept onto the highway. Pam came to my rescue and we drove until the shoulders reappeared.
The agricultural fields appear to be inundated by bramble weeds. These are bunched up shrubs with very thick strands of wiry stems. When these grow dry during the late summer and fall, it appears they get uprooted by the strong winds and ramble along the highway. Now I understand the song, “Ramblin Rose.”
I stopped at a rest area because my fingers were getting numb. I rubbed my fingers to get the feeling to return. Then Raymond appeared. He and his wife of 8 months and their 2 dogs arrived in a pick up with a motorcycle in the back. Both Ray and Judy are truck drivers, who are not working right now. Judy told me a story of a serious accident in her life.
She owned her own semi and transported good for merchants. She was on her way from Atlanta back to Liberal, KS, with a full load of goods, when suddenly a strong wind toppled her truck and a she was hit on the back of her head by a TV which slid forward. She said, “I don’t remember anything about it.” She lost her truck and insurance paid all but $19,000 of her expenses. She is presently unemployed and about 8 months ago she married another trucker, Raymond. He had a stroke some years ago, but seems to have recovered quite well. They are both in their mid 60’s and are heavy smokers.
Raymond conducts a 24-hour road service. He repairs trucks and trailers. His first wife died of throat cancer. He wrote a song about her, one line of it was, “I was depressed when she done died and left me”. I decided to sing a song for the “young” couple.
When I arrived at the parking lot of our motel in Liberal KS, Pam pointed out a small array of Monarch Butterflies. They appeared to be restless, never sitting for more than a minute. I tried to take some close ups. They appeared to be young. A very colorful hedge they chose as their resting place.
We got cleaned up and headed for a Mexican restaurant within walking distance. They had an interesting series of paintings hanging on their walls. I took pictures of them. After making inquiries, I learned that the artist’s name was Alfredo and he was at home in Mexico at the time. He uses his colors quite well.
We ended the day by watching the first presidential debate on CNN.
There are multiple semis moving at breakneck speed creating a vacuum, attempting to drag me onto the road. At the same time, some of them are trailing the scent of animal manure along the straight and narrow highway. Alas, the highway began to lose its shoulders and safety once more became an issue. The speeding vehicles gave me a sense of insecurity because at any given moment I could be swept onto the highway. Pam came to my rescue and we drove until the shoulders reappeared.
The agricultural fields appear to be inundated by bramble weeds. These are bunched up shrubs with very thick strands of wiry stems. When these grow dry during the late summer and fall, it appears they get uprooted by the strong winds and ramble along the highway. Now I understand the song, “Ramblin Rose.”
I stopped at a rest area because my fingers were getting numb. I rubbed my fingers to get the feeling to return. Then Raymond appeared. He and his wife of 8 months and their 2 dogs arrived in a pick up with a motorcycle in the back. Both Ray and Judy are truck drivers, who are not working right now. Judy told me a story of a serious accident in her life.
She owned her own semi and transported good for merchants. She was on her way from Atlanta back to Liberal, KS, with a full load of goods, when suddenly a strong wind toppled her truck and a she was hit on the back of her head by a TV which slid forward. She said, “I don’t remember anything about it.” She lost her truck and insurance paid all but $19,000 of her expenses. She is presently unemployed and about 8 months ago she married another trucker, Raymond. He had a stroke some years ago, but seems to have recovered quite well. They are both in their mid 60’s and are heavy smokers.
Raymond conducts a 24-hour road service. He repairs trucks and trailers. His first wife died of throat cancer. He wrote a song about her, one line of it was, “I was depressed when she done died and left me”. I decided to sing a song for the “young” couple.
When I arrived at the parking lot of our motel in Liberal KS, Pam pointed out a small array of Monarch Butterflies. They appeared to be restless, never sitting for more than a minute. I tried to take some close ups. They appeared to be young. A very colorful hedge they chose as their resting place.
We got cleaned up and headed for a Mexican restaurant within walking distance. They had an interesting series of paintings hanging on their walls. I took pictures of them. After making inquiries, I learned that the artist’s name was Alfredo and he was at home in Mexico at the time. He uses his colors quite well.
We ended the day by watching the first presidential debate on CNN.
Day 11 Thur. Sept 25
I left Baltzell Motel when the sun showed enough light on the busy highway. Baltzell Motel is an old mama/papa operation erected on Hwy 40 W to obtain business on its way west.
I prepared my own breakfast and tip toed around the room to keep Pam in her slumbering mode. She needs a great deal of rest because she is the glue that keeps the Cyril Paul Scholarship Fund together.
The route was clearly prepared for me by Pam. The old Mapquests were inadequate because they went form town to town. We really need directions that go from Motel address to Motel address. Pam has the responsibility of taking care of those details. It’s not easy when you don’t know whether or not you have adequate funds for gas, food and lodging for an unknown number of days. So sometimes she decides we should sleep in a mom/pop place to save money. Other times we want a clean, comfortable place, where everything works. Super 8’s are often a nice middle ground.
I rode on keeping my eyes on the signs going south and west. Great Bend, like most other midwestern towns and cities located on the plains, is spread out and appears to be a hub for all highways coming from all directions. In addition, the signs on the road are not clearly defined and are very scarce.
There were wheat fields on either side of a well-paved highway. The highway patrol was in high demand. They are very scarce, but I was rescued from going the wrong way once again.
The distant green hills, thick with tall trees created a sort of barrier from the constant winds, resulting in a speedier ride. The night before there must have been a steady rain because the fields were quite damp, with pools in them. And the rivers were filled with mud and small branches.
We stayed in Dodge City, KS at the Super 8 on Wyatt Earp Blvd! There seemed to be quite a few cowboy attractions, but we didn’t take any time to visit them.
I prepared my own breakfast and tip toed around the room to keep Pam in her slumbering mode. She needs a great deal of rest because she is the glue that keeps the Cyril Paul Scholarship Fund together.
The route was clearly prepared for me by Pam. The old Mapquests were inadequate because they went form town to town. We really need directions that go from Motel address to Motel address. Pam has the responsibility of taking care of those details. It’s not easy when you don’t know whether or not you have adequate funds for gas, food and lodging for an unknown number of days. So sometimes she decides we should sleep in a mom/pop place to save money. Other times we want a clean, comfortable place, where everything works. Super 8’s are often a nice middle ground.
I rode on keeping my eyes on the signs going south and west. Great Bend, like most other midwestern towns and cities located on the plains, is spread out and appears to be a hub for all highways coming from all directions. In addition, the signs on the road are not clearly defined and are very scarce.
There were wheat fields on either side of a well-paved highway. The highway patrol was in high demand. They are very scarce, but I was rescued from going the wrong way once again.
The distant green hills, thick with tall trees created a sort of barrier from the constant winds, resulting in a speedier ride. The night before there must have been a steady rain because the fields were quite damp, with pools in them. And the rivers were filled with mud and small branches.
We stayed in Dodge City, KS at the Super 8 on Wyatt Earp Blvd! There seemed to be quite a few cowboy attractions, but we didn’t take any time to visit them.
Thursday, September 25
Day 10 Wed. Sept. 24,2008
I got up this morning at 5:50 to prepare for the day’s journey. I reflected on the reasons I made a decision to ride my bike to CA rather than the other way around. Even though there is hardship by way of wind and hazardous, shoulderless roads to be taken, my faith, though stirred by near or anticipated danger still tugs at the cause I have undertaken. I trust in my God and in the many friends who whisper my name in their prayer as do I. It is an unbelievable source of confidence that shatters all doubts, all fears and every negative attitude.
Now back to my ride and today’s log. I took my luggage to the van, had breakfast and was on my way. The crisp morning wind in my face kept me in check. I was always aware of everything around me. My traveling instructions (directions) were provided for me by my charming wife! She altered Mapquest, or one of the many pages we (she) prepared back home in Bloomington. Not knowing exactly where to begin each journey, from which motel in each city.
From the Super 8 in Selina, I rode west on Schilling Rd to Virginia Rd, to Centennial Rd, finally to West Crawford, then on to Old Highway 40/KS140 for another 30 miles. The old highway was well paved with a very good shoulder and the supply of hostile traffic was absent.
The wind was slight and calm. The highway was embellished by large shady trees, and hillsides that perhaps barricaded any avalanche of wind attempting to occupy the narrow ribbon of highway. As I proceeded miles away from Salina and the sun increased its ascent in the eastern sky. I felt my bones delivering sweat and the hills began to show signs of familiarity, which reminds me that I am still in Kansas. Nevertheless, I took advantage of the soft wind and make it to Ellsworth at 11:30 am.
I met Pam at the Crossroads Restaurant, where for the first time I ordered a hamburger and a cup of tea. The journey changes from here on moving in a southwesterly direction for 38 miles. Everything was gradually on the uprise. The sun glaring over my left shoulder, but mostly on my back, and the wind increasing its velocity, but the road remained native to Kansas, a consistent roller coaster.
As the miles grew and the temperature increased, my speed decreased from 15 mph to 10 mph. Experience has taught me to take it easy and smell the wide open fields.
I spoke to a cowboy who was in the process of training his horse. He works at night in a salt mine. This was a real surprise! Did you know there was a salt mine in Kansas? His wife is a nurse and was at work. He offered me water, but I was good. I thanked him and handed him my card and rode off, heading west. I arrived at Great Bend with salt on my face and arms. The time was just past 4:00. There were adequate shoulders and a fair amount of hills strewn along the way.
Winging their way along their journey were Monarch butterflies. They seem to flutter,
slicing through the wind as they travel anywhere from 10 to 12 feet high, just high enough to avoid the huge semis that suck them into their demise.
Luckily, Kansas highways in these parts show less indication of damaged goods. Finally, after a long 4 hours the Baltzell Motel in Great Bend is in view on 10th Street. We had a homemade dinner, watched TV, read lots of email, showered and listened to the President’s appeal to remove seven billion dollars from taxes to boost the country’s economy. I’ll not sleep too well with such a thought in mind. Good night, Charlie. God bless you and save America from itself.
Now back to my ride and today’s log. I took my luggage to the van, had breakfast and was on my way. The crisp morning wind in my face kept me in check. I was always aware of everything around me. My traveling instructions (directions) were provided for me by my charming wife! She altered Mapquest, or one of the many pages we (she) prepared back home in Bloomington. Not knowing exactly where to begin each journey, from which motel in each city.
From the Super 8 in Selina, I rode west on Schilling Rd to Virginia Rd, to Centennial Rd, finally to West Crawford, then on to Old Highway 40/KS140 for another 30 miles. The old highway was well paved with a very good shoulder and the supply of hostile traffic was absent.
The wind was slight and calm. The highway was embellished by large shady trees, and hillsides that perhaps barricaded any avalanche of wind attempting to occupy the narrow ribbon of highway. As I proceeded miles away from Salina and the sun increased its ascent in the eastern sky. I felt my bones delivering sweat and the hills began to show signs of familiarity, which reminds me that I am still in Kansas. Nevertheless, I took advantage of the soft wind and make it to Ellsworth at 11:30 am.
I met Pam at the Crossroads Restaurant, where for the first time I ordered a hamburger and a cup of tea. The journey changes from here on moving in a southwesterly direction for 38 miles. Everything was gradually on the uprise. The sun glaring over my left shoulder, but mostly on my back, and the wind increasing its velocity, but the road remained native to Kansas, a consistent roller coaster.
As the miles grew and the temperature increased, my speed decreased from 15 mph to 10 mph. Experience has taught me to take it easy and smell the wide open fields.
I spoke to a cowboy who was in the process of training his horse. He works at night in a salt mine. This was a real surprise! Did you know there was a salt mine in Kansas? His wife is a nurse and was at work. He offered me water, but I was good. I thanked him and handed him my card and rode off, heading west. I arrived at Great Bend with salt on my face and arms. The time was just past 4:00. There were adequate shoulders and a fair amount of hills strewn along the way.
Winging their way along their journey were Monarch butterflies. They seem to flutter,
slicing through the wind as they travel anywhere from 10 to 12 feet high, just high enough to avoid the huge semis that suck them into their demise.
Luckily, Kansas highways in these parts show less indication of damaged goods. Finally, after a long 4 hours the Baltzell Motel in Great Bend is in view on 10th Street. We had a homemade dinner, watched TV, read lots of email, showered and listened to the President’s appeal to remove seven billion dollars from taxes to boost the country’s economy. I’ll not sleep too well with such a thought in mind. Good night, Charlie. God bless you and save America from itself.
Tuesday, September 23
Day 9 Tues. Sept 23, 2008
Last night I had a dream. The dream essentially suggested that I should take a rest day. I woke up and shared the information with Pam. She agreed. It was easy to make that decision. I have been gradually neglecting parts of my routine for the past few days. Pam hasn’t had the energy to write for the blog in the evening. It gives me the opportunity to get plenty of rest and regain my strength.
I called Mike Merrigan, a member of St. Joan of Arc, who had offered to pay for a night in a motel for us. We thought that our day and night of rest would be a good gift. I called him and he said, yes. Thank you very, very much, Mike!
We took time to get an adapter for the bike tire pump. We also tried to find a place to print the maps for Cyril, since we don't have a printer with us. The only problem with this Super 8 is that their wireless printer isn't working. That is why either Pam or I have had to write out the directions a few times. Pam had a chance to swim in the pool here.
You may have noticed that Pam got caught up on the blog today! She feels good about that!
I called Mike Merrigan, a member of St. Joan of Arc, who had offered to pay for a night in a motel for us. We thought that our day and night of rest would be a good gift. I called him and he said, yes. Thank you very, very much, Mike!
We took time to get an adapter for the bike tire pump. We also tried to find a place to print the maps for Cyril, since we don't have a printer with us. The only problem with this Super 8 is that their wireless printer isn't working. That is why either Pam or I have had to write out the directions a few times. Pam had a chance to swim in the pool here.
You may have noticed that Pam got caught up on the blog today! She feels good about that!
Day 8 Monday, Sept. 22, 2008
Got up at 5:50 am and got myself ready to go again. I asked at the front desk for directions out of town. Junction City appears to be undergoing a make-over. There is a lot of building and road construction in a part of town that appears to be on formerly cheap land adjoining the lower economic community (where the black folks live.) At least, that’s my take on what is going on in Junction City.
This young military man overheard me asking for directions and asked to assist me. He was curious about my ride. He went to the Super 8 computer and in a few minutes he Googled me a set of directions to Salina, Kansas starting on Hwy 18. Glenda, the manager, suggested a different route on Old Hwy 40. It was 8:00 by the time I left Super 8, and was following Old Hwy 40. I headed out and about 5 miles later I realized I was on 77 north going back to Marysville! A police officer had stopped someone for speeding so I asked him to help me. He gave me very clear instructions on Hwy 18.
Kansas must be the windiest state in the Nation. Hwy 18 had no shoulders and the wind gradually developed to about 20mph. I was literally leaning against the wind, riding those roller coaster roads. I had biked 62.2 miles before I finally called Pam to come and take me to our destination. “Riding Against the Wind” seems like a song. Pam picked me up and brought me to the Super 8, a 3 month old stylish monument. I’ll take pictures later. We had Mexican food again for supper.
This young military man overheard me asking for directions and asked to assist me. He was curious about my ride. He went to the Super 8 computer and in a few minutes he Googled me a set of directions to Salina, Kansas starting on Hwy 18. Glenda, the manager, suggested a different route on Old Hwy 40. It was 8:00 by the time I left Super 8, and was following Old Hwy 40. I headed out and about 5 miles later I realized I was on 77 north going back to Marysville! A police officer had stopped someone for speeding so I asked him to help me. He gave me very clear instructions on Hwy 18.
Kansas must be the windiest state in the Nation. Hwy 18 had no shoulders and the wind gradually developed to about 20mph. I was literally leaning against the wind, riding those roller coaster roads. I had biked 62.2 miles before I finally called Pam to come and take me to our destination. “Riding Against the Wind” seems like a song. Pam picked me up and brought me to the Super 8, a 3 month old stylish monument. I’ll take pictures later. We had Mexican food again for supper.
Day 7 Sunday, Sept 21, 2008
I left Marysville with the rising of the sun. My journey took me West on 36 and took a sharp left turn to go west on 77 on my way to Junction City, KS. Hwy 77 began with a now familiar view of a roller coaster highway with no shoulders.
The signs of Fall in crimson and gold appears only occasionally. The wind had not stirred itself to a cruising mode, by that I mean, the wind was only blowing at 6-10 mph. By this time on the journey I have become accustomed to cycling in lower gears. The hills were tight, meaning they came relatively close together. It made changing gears ineffective for whatever advantage cruising speed could afford. In other words, my legs were in constant motion, up hill or down.
Crossing a long concrete bridge, I saw for the first time a BLACK squirrel. In fact , he saw me first and was confused as to where he could conceal himself while at the same time keeping an eye on this strange approaching omen. I said a soft “Hi” and rode on. The idea of stopping to take a picture remained an idea.
Several miles later there was a detour on Hwy 77. I wanted to ignore the detour, but I though of Pam driving the car. So I did not. Funny how that works. Pam thought I would ignore the detour and ride through it as we did once in MN and once in IA.
I rode quite a few miles and a lot of time passed. I called Pam, but the connection was very sketchy and she couldn’t hear me. I also forgot to take a walkie talkie. that day. She thought I did not take the detour, so she didn’t either. We tried to call each other several times, but the calls all failed. The detour itself was about 22 miles before the road was actually closed. Pam had gone quite a few miles before we connected. After turning around, she stopped to ask a store clerk what the best way would be to get to where I was. Turns out the clerk told her what the locals called “the real detour” whereas I was on what they called the “state’s detour’. Pam ended up driving miles on gravel roads until she stopped at a farm home. The farmer gave her very specific instructions to where the “state’s detour” began. Much of that time, several hours, we couldn’t communicate by phone. They would have worked if we had both been on top of a hill at the same time!
After many hours and dozens of hills and Kansas winds, Pam caught up with me. We drove through Oldsburgh, Randolph, and Riley in search of a motel and found none. Advised to go all the way to Junction City, we arrived at the Super 8, now taken over by Fort Riley National Guardsmen. But they had room for us. It was getting late but we went to a Chinese Restaurant, where we were the only guests. It was very good.
The signs of Fall in crimson and gold appears only occasionally. The wind had not stirred itself to a cruising mode, by that I mean, the wind was only blowing at 6-10 mph. By this time on the journey I have become accustomed to cycling in lower gears. The hills were tight, meaning they came relatively close together. It made changing gears ineffective for whatever advantage cruising speed could afford. In other words, my legs were in constant motion, up hill or down.
Crossing a long concrete bridge, I saw for the first time a BLACK squirrel. In fact , he saw me first and was confused as to where he could conceal himself while at the same time keeping an eye on this strange approaching omen. I said a soft “Hi” and rode on. The idea of stopping to take a picture remained an idea.
Several miles later there was a detour on Hwy 77. I wanted to ignore the detour, but I though of Pam driving the car. So I did not. Funny how that works. Pam thought I would ignore the detour and ride through it as we did once in MN and once in IA.
I rode quite a few miles and a lot of time passed. I called Pam, but the connection was very sketchy and she couldn’t hear me. I also forgot to take a walkie talkie. that day. She thought I did not take the detour, so she didn’t either. We tried to call each other several times, but the calls all failed. The detour itself was about 22 miles before the road was actually closed. Pam had gone quite a few miles before we connected. After turning around, she stopped to ask a store clerk what the best way would be to get to where I was. Turns out the clerk told her what the locals called “the real detour” whereas I was on what they called the “state’s detour’. Pam ended up driving miles on gravel roads until she stopped at a farm home. The farmer gave her very specific instructions to where the “state’s detour” began. Much of that time, several hours, we couldn’t communicate by phone. They would have worked if we had both been on top of a hill at the same time!
After many hours and dozens of hills and Kansas winds, Pam caught up with me. We drove through Oldsburgh, Randolph, and Riley in search of a motel and found none. Advised to go all the way to Junction City, we arrived at the Super 8, now taken over by Fort Riley National Guardsmen. But they had room for us. It was getting late but we went to a Chinese Restaurant, where we were the only guests. It was very good.
Day 6 Saturday Sept. 20, 2008
Had a little breakfast at Super 8 in Lincoln. Before going to bed I had written down the instructions on how to get out of Lincoln and be on my way to Beatrice. I left, saying good-by to Pam at 7:10 am. The red spinning ball of the sun was behind me as I peddled south on Cornhusker Ave. to reconnect with Hwy 77 South. I was quite sure I knew the route because I had memorized it! It became apparent that I had memorized a set of directions that were quite old, or at least were no longer applicable. I was too far east\. I went to a gas station where I met DESTINY and a gentleman wearing a straw hat with the name, Brimstone on it. They were studying together, a numbers board between them, scratching out numbers. “It’s too early to gamble! You’ve got to wait until 10:00 o’clock.” They both looked at me and laughed. I had broken the ice. I asked for instructions to Hwy 77 South. “Brimstone” pointed me 6 blocks away. Then I asked for a lucky Powerball ticket and they laughed again. I bought it and I lost it somewhere along the way, so perhaps it was lucky for someone else.
The terrain outside Lincoln is quite undulating. Driving a vehicle, I suppose those numerous, pretty hills and valleys are quite unobservable, but try riding a bicycle. Regardless of how much I worked at quickening the miles, they lingered and were quite unmoved by my ambitious activity. Even a prayer to St. Martin de Porres seemed to dispel my hopes, but I soon realized St. Martin was not a native of Nebraska, so I resorted to my usual litany.
The ride is pleasant when thoughts of good friends are utmost in my mind. People who have your back and send you such warm energy. Finally at 11:20am I arrived at Beatrice. Pam and I connected and broke to have a quick lunch. We found a very charming Mexican restaurant, “Playa Azul”.
It was too early to stop riding, but the rest of Hwy 77 had no shoulders. Once again I erred on the side of safety. Saturday should not be such a busy day, but there was a lot of traffic, so we made a choice to drive to Marysville in Kansas. Pam called ahead and found us a room, so we bedded for the night.
At Cortland , a 68 year old road cyclist met up with me as I labored on one of theos many unseen inclines. The road was under repair for several miles which is not at all unusual. We stopped to have coffee. He had planned a 59-mile ride and came south first so that the ride back home he would get an assist from the 6 ½ mph wind. I gave him my card and he gave me $12 in support of my cause.
The terrain outside Lincoln is quite undulating. Driving a vehicle, I suppose those numerous, pretty hills and valleys are quite unobservable, but try riding a bicycle. Regardless of how much I worked at quickening the miles, they lingered and were quite unmoved by my ambitious activity. Even a prayer to St. Martin de Porres seemed to dispel my hopes, but I soon realized St. Martin was not a native of Nebraska, so I resorted to my usual litany.
The ride is pleasant when thoughts of good friends are utmost in my mind. People who have your back and send you such warm energy. Finally at 11:20am I arrived at Beatrice. Pam and I connected and broke to have a quick lunch. We found a very charming Mexican restaurant, “Playa Azul”.
It was too early to stop riding, but the rest of Hwy 77 had no shoulders. Once again I erred on the side of safety. Saturday should not be such a busy day, but there was a lot of traffic, so we made a choice to drive to Marysville in Kansas. Pam called ahead and found us a room, so we bedded for the night.
At Cortland , a 68 year old road cyclist met up with me as I labored on one of theos many unseen inclines. The road was under repair for several miles which is not at all unusual. We stopped to have coffee. He had planned a 59-mile ride and came south first so that the ride back home he would get an assist from the 6 ½ mph wind. I gave him my card and he gave me $12 in support of my cause.
Day 5 Friday, Sept 19, 2008
My day began at 5:30 am. The Wilderness Lodge in Fremont, NE was an extremely comfortable motel. At 7:30 am I ws en route to Wahoo, then to Lincoln, and if possible, Beatrice, NE.
The miles were quite had to come by. The wind factor and numerous hills, which are unseen by truckers and travelers, powered by huge engines, were extremely hard on me. There certainly was enough shoulder on which I could maneuver, but the wind (I can hear all my advisors saying, “I told you so!”) impeded my speed to an average of 10 or less miles an hour.
In Wahoo, I met an interesting couple, Weldon and Paula Hoppe. I rode up to the gas station for help with my water bottles, which had catapulted at least three times. Weldon obtained a wrench (correct size) and tightened the screws and I was good to go. I thanked them and before I knew it I was telling them my story. I invited them to coffee. They said yes and off we went to a tiny coffee shop across the street. Instead they made it their treat. I called Pam, fearing she was on the way and would miss me. She was just finishing up loading the van and about to have breakfast. We were joined by a neighbor of the Hoppe’s, and talked about teaching kids from 3 – 5, (which I love) and mountain climbing and canoeing, (which they love). They have never been to MN so I invited them to the Mall of America! Such good feelings to meet so many wonderful people. It’s folks like Erica at the Wilderness Lodge, the middle age woman and her mother we met at the Sibley (IA) Café.
A few days ago, on our way to Sibley, Gordy and I stopped at an intersection of Hwy 60 & Hwy 20. There was a hitchhiker, a handsome, wooly haired young man and his English Rotweiler dog, a pup traveling to Seattle. He had been at the intersection for about 2 hours with a sign. The night before he slept with his dog in a sleeping bag. I wonder if they have gotten to Seattle yet?
Pam called ahead for a room at a Super 8 motel. We determined that the highways near city centers are too hazardous, too cramped for space, no shoulders to ride on and are therefore a setback to the journey. I was allowed to hitch a ride in the van for 24 blocks. It was already 4:00 pm when we arrived at the Super 8 in Lincoln. Beatrice was too far to make it today. Tomorrow we shall reassign our destinations and hope the beautiful wind blows in another direction , or best of all, blows upon my back to win my confidence and keep my average speed about15mph.
The miles were quite had to come by. The wind factor and numerous hills, which are unseen by truckers and travelers, powered by huge engines, were extremely hard on me. There certainly was enough shoulder on which I could maneuver, but the wind (I can hear all my advisors saying, “I told you so!”) impeded my speed to an average of 10 or less miles an hour.
In Wahoo, I met an interesting couple, Weldon and Paula Hoppe. I rode up to the gas station for help with my water bottles, which had catapulted at least three times. Weldon obtained a wrench (correct size) and tightened the screws and I was good to go. I thanked them and before I knew it I was telling them my story. I invited them to coffee. They said yes and off we went to a tiny coffee shop across the street. Instead they made it their treat. I called Pam, fearing she was on the way and would miss me. She was just finishing up loading the van and about to have breakfast. We were joined by a neighbor of the Hoppe’s, and talked about teaching kids from 3 – 5, (which I love) and mountain climbing and canoeing, (which they love). They have never been to MN so I invited them to the Mall of America! Such good feelings to meet so many wonderful people. It’s folks like Erica at the Wilderness Lodge, the middle age woman and her mother we met at the Sibley (IA) Café.
A few days ago, on our way to Sibley, Gordy and I stopped at an intersection of Hwy 60 & Hwy 20. There was a hitchhiker, a handsome, wooly haired young man and his English Rotweiler dog, a pup traveling to Seattle. He had been at the intersection for about 2 hours with a sign. The night before he slept with his dog in a sleeping bag. I wonder if they have gotten to Seattle yet?
Pam called ahead for a room at a Super 8 motel. We determined that the highways near city centers are too hazardous, too cramped for space, no shoulders to ride on and are therefore a setback to the journey. I was allowed to hitch a ride in the van for 24 blocks. It was already 4:00 pm when we arrived at the Super 8 in Lincoln. Beatrice was too far to make it today. Tomorrow we shall reassign our destinations and hope the beautiful wind blows in another direction , or best of all, blows upon my back to win my confidence and keep my average speed about15mph.
Saturday, September 20
Day 4 Thur. Sept. 18, 2008
On my first day of riding alone, I took off about 7:40, still going southwest on Hwy 60. About 30 miles out I called Pam. She was still at the motel packing and reorganizing the van. Turns out that this is a big job every day. Pam caught up to me on the road and I sat on the back of the van, drinking ice cold water, eating a banana and a bar. The last part of today’s ride was not pleasant. Most truckers were cordial and veered away from me on the shoulder. However, there were a few who did not see my bicycle license to occupy the road and literally were about 6 inches from my left, unhealed, shoulder. In IA the little space left as shoulder for the roads is corrugated—a system for getting the attention of drivers who drift too close to the edge of the road. The rest of the highway shoulder is sometimes less than 24 inches. This test of fate rattled my nerves and I began to conjure up my best songs of courage: “Two Wheels on My Wagon” and ”Just Tagging Along.”
The plan was to ride to Winnebago, NE today, but going around Sioux City in the traffic was horrendous and no shoulder to ride on. Pam had gone on ahead, so I called her to come back to pick me up. As we entered NE on 75/77, the problem got even worse. There was more of the same—corrugated shoulder for 4 wheel drivers and 14” to 24” shoulders for 2 wheelers. Another factor was the strong wind. I had hoped for a little assistance, but the southwest wind came right at my face, challenging me all the way. My GPS had fallen off the bike twice and I had to scramble off my bike in order to save my GPS before someone ran it over. We decided to err on the side of safety and drive to Winnebago, NE. It is a small Indian Reservation and there were no hotels or motels. We kept driving south through towns so small they had no sleeping accommodations, either. We finally made it to Fremont, NE and stayed at the Wilderness Inn. Very nice place with very good food. A safe, comfortable ending to a long, harrowing day.
The plan was to ride to Winnebago, NE today, but going around Sioux City in the traffic was horrendous and no shoulder to ride on. Pam had gone on ahead, so I called her to come back to pick me up. As we entered NE on 75/77, the problem got even worse. There was more of the same—corrugated shoulder for 4 wheel drivers and 14” to 24” shoulders for 2 wheelers. Another factor was the strong wind. I had hoped for a little assistance, but the southwest wind came right at my face, challenging me all the way. My GPS had fallen off the bike twice and I had to scramble off my bike in order to save my GPS before someone ran it over. We decided to err on the side of safety and drive to Winnebago, NE. It is a small Indian Reservation and there were no hotels or motels. We kept driving south through towns so small they had no sleeping accommodations, either. We finally made it to Fremont, NE and stayed at the Wilderness Inn. Very nice place with very good food. A safe, comfortable ending to a long, harrowing day.
Day 3 Wed. Sept 17, 2008
At breakfast two gentlemen were seated at a table near me. On of them said, “You are the one headed for CA aren’t you?” I responded affirmatively and explained why I felt the urgency of doing such an arduous ride. I assured him it was the collaboration of friends like the group of alumnae from St. John’s who have lunch once a month. It was their efforts as well that propelled me into this project.
Jim and Gordy appeared, prepared to do the last leg of their journey to Sibley, IA. The wind shifted beautifully to our backs as we left Windom and headed southwest on Hwy 60 to Sibley, a distance of 55 miles. The air was cool and a calm breeze was pushing us. We were indeed very grateful. The pain of leather and posterior seemed as nothing
compared to the pleasure of traveling at full speed in high gear.
Jo Bailey, Gordy’s wife, met us at the Sibley Café, where we had lunch and became better acquainted. She was there to take Jim and Gordy back to Bloomington. Pam and I decided to stay in Sibley and get re-organized. The only hotel in Sibley was full, so we drove to Sheldon. IA, and ended up in a motel that should have paid us to stay there!
Jim and Gordy appeared, prepared to do the last leg of their journey to Sibley, IA. The wind shifted beautifully to our backs as we left Windom and headed southwest on Hwy 60 to Sibley, a distance of 55 miles. The air was cool and a calm breeze was pushing us. We were indeed very grateful. The pain of leather and posterior seemed as nothing
compared to the pleasure of traveling at full speed in high gear.
Jo Bailey, Gordy’s wife, met us at the Sibley Café, where we had lunch and became better acquainted. She was there to take Jim and Gordy back to Bloomington. Pam and I decided to stay in Sibley and get re-organized. The only hotel in Sibley was full, so we drove to Sheldon. IA, and ended up in a motel that should have paid us to stay there!
Friday, September 19
Day 2 Tue. Sept 16, 2008
The entire day was spent on Hwy 60, from Mankato to Windom. The wind was consistently in our faces. They had previously informed me that I should start in CA and end in MN, so the wind would be at my back, but I had other ideas.
We arrived in Windom at 6:06 pm. The most pleasant occurrence was that the owner and manager of the Super 8 in Windom recommended a Chinese Restaurant and then offered to drive us there. When we were finished, we called him and he picked us up and returned us to the hotel.
I personally thanked him and handed him my card. He was very impressed with my story and I filled him in with the answers to his questions. He gave me his email address and promised to support the program.
We arrived in Windom at 6:06 pm. The most pleasant occurrence was that the owner and manager of the Super 8 in Windom recommended a Chinese Restaurant and then offered to drive us there. When we were finished, we called him and he picked us up and returned us to the hotel.
I personally thanked him and handed him my card. He was very impressed with my story and I filled him in with the answers to his questions. He gave me his email address and promised to support the program.
Thursday, September 18
Day 1 Monday, Sept. 15.2008
There was a small gathering of friends and relatives at our home for the morning send off. I was delighted to see my niece, Donna Paul, and my cousin, Vincent Otley. WCCO CH4 sent Jeanette Trompeter and a camera man to cover the story. I was very humbled by the outpouring of well wishes and financial support I have received. Thank you Donna, Millie, Vicky, Sebastian, Jerry, Jeff and Rita, Rachel (representing the SJA musicians) and especially the McKennas, whom I first met when I taught their children at Assumption many years ago, and everyone else who was there.
Three cyclists joined me on the first leg of my journey: Mindy Ahler-Olmstead, Jim Bassett and Gordie Bailey. There were no mishaps on the ride to Mankato. It is a bit frightening when those huge semis passed us, although the majority pulled over to the left lane if they could. The hardest part of the day was riding through a construction zone going downhill to LeSeuer. We had to ride in the right lane with the cars and trucks. They were all polite and cautious, pulling over when they could and slowing way down. We were glad when that was over. Kraig Olmstead joined us when we had dinner at Neighbors, a very good Italian restaurant in Mankato. Pam and I stayed with her son, Kevin Carroll and his family: wife Laurie and daughters Jacqueline and Danielle. A short, but sweet visit. Kraig and Mindy drove home, and Jim and Gordie stayed at the Super 8. I am extremely grateful for their competency and warm friendship. They are skilled riders and filled with good techniques for riding cross-country.
Three cyclists joined me on the first leg of my journey: Mindy Ahler-Olmstead, Jim Bassett and Gordie Bailey. There were no mishaps on the ride to Mankato. It is a bit frightening when those huge semis passed us, although the majority pulled over to the left lane if they could. The hardest part of the day was riding through a construction zone going downhill to LeSeuer. We had to ride in the right lane with the cars and trucks. They were all polite and cautious, pulling over when they could and slowing way down. We were glad when that was over. Kraig Olmstead joined us when we had dinner at Neighbors, a very good Italian restaurant in Mankato. Pam and I stayed with her son, Kevin Carroll and his family: wife Laurie and daughters Jacqueline and Danielle. A short, but sweet visit. Kraig and Mindy drove home, and Jim and Gordie stayed at the Super 8. I am extremely grateful for their competency and warm friendship. They are skilled riders and filled with good techniques for riding cross-country.
Sunday Before the Bike Trip
I am sorry it took me so long to get information on this blog. The first two nights out, I was too exhausted to type at night. The third evening I was ready to start and I couldn’t remember how to get to the blog! Jeff Nohner returned my call today, explained what I needed to do, so here we go. Cyril has been writing his thoughts and notes all along and I am going to share some of them with you.
Pam Paul
Sunday, September 14, 2008
At both Masses at St. Joan’s, Fr Jim Cassidy bestowed a blessing upon us, with the aid of the community. At both occasions he mentioned my age and the congregation gasped, stood up and applauded. He also granted my request that we sell the t-shirts that were made for the ride at the end of the celebration.
The t-shirts were donated by George Berkner who presently resides in Phoenix, AZ. The first batch had a misspelling: Scholorship. I’m trying to think of a creative way to turn the o into an a. Perhaps a bike wheel. They are in my foyer and George sent a second, corrected batch. Pam and my daughter, Nerrissa, folded all 5 boxes of shirts. We sold 30 t-shirts at St. Joan’s and we also collected a few dollars from well wishers to help with our expenses. A very special thank you to Jeff and Rita Nohner who accompanied us on vacation to Trinidad last Feb. and developed the special web site, created the business cards for us and spent hours instructing Pam on the web site and blog.
Pam Paul
Sunday, September 14, 2008
At both Masses at St. Joan’s, Fr Jim Cassidy bestowed a blessing upon us, with the aid of the community. At both occasions he mentioned my age and the congregation gasped, stood up and applauded. He also granted my request that we sell the t-shirts that were made for the ride at the end of the celebration.
The t-shirts were donated by George Berkner who presently resides in Phoenix, AZ. The first batch had a misspelling: Scholorship. I’m trying to think of a creative way to turn the o into an a. Perhaps a bike wheel. They are in my foyer and George sent a second, corrected batch. Pam and my daughter, Nerrissa, folded all 5 boxes of shirts. We sold 30 t-shirts at St. Joan’s and we also collected a few dollars from well wishers to help with our expenses. A very special thank you to Jeff and Rita Nohner who accompanied us on vacation to Trinidad last Feb. and developed the special web site, created the business cards for us and spent hours instructing Pam on the web site and blog.
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