Coast To Coast Bike Ride

OTHER SITE

2008-06-20T18:39:00.000-07:00

Please go to http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/dansbikeride
for updates on this ride.

The last few days have been updated exclusively on that site for no other reason than little time to maintain both sites.

I will add photos to the last few days as time allows.
Stay tuned.

Arrival: Sunday June 22...3pm into Ocean Beach down Newport Boulevard.
Then to Sunshine Company for a beer(s) on the rooftop deck.
Plan to come out.

PS. Don't forget: www.charitywater.org/getinvolved/promos/danaltenburg/
Thanks.

Rest Days in Mesa, AZ

2008-06-15T16:41:00.001-07:00

Thursday June 12, 2008: Hung out at the Clausing residence watching an Incredible Hulk marathon on the SciFi Network on TV while updating the blog. Dinner with Willie, Randy, their daughter-in-law Jen, and granddaughter Macy. Homemade meatloaf and squash. Great to have a homecooked meal again!

Friday June 13, 2008: More Incredible Hulk on TV while I updated the blog. Out to dinner with Willie & Randy at a Cajun Seafood place within walking distance of the condo. Watched the movie "The Bucket List" at night. Feel pretty good about the things I have knocked off my own "bucket list" in the last 18 months.

Saturday June 14, 2008: Reunited with Clint & Denae Steeves, friends I had met at a resort in Cancun 6 years ago and hadn't seen since despite communicating by email. Clint, Denae and I went to pick up my friend Mike from the airport. After he assembled his bike at their house, Mike & I made a run with the truck to ship out the empty bike case, and then pick up a couple things at REI. Once we returned, we went to dinner with the Steeves at Grimaldi Pizzeria in Scottsdale, AZ, followed by a few drinks at one of the local bars.

Sunday June 15, 2008: Enjoyed Fathers Day french toast breakfast at the Clausing residence with Willie & Randy, and their son Claude, his wife Jen, and 2 year old Macy. Rhubarb pie was the capper!!! After some prep to head out later today to Surprise, AZ Randy, Mike, and I grilled bratwurst at the condo using the new grill Willie bought for Randy on Saturday. Staying at Days Inn in Surprise, AZ tonight for an early start to Aguila, AZ.

Globe, AZ to Mesa, AZ (40 miles)

2008-06-12T16:11:00.001-07:00

Wednesday June 11, 2008

Rise & Shine! I got up a little later than yesterday simply because I knew a good chunk of my ride today would be downhill. Awake at 4:30am, my first discovery was that the Super (duper) 8 motel in Globe has a mix of both working as well as non-working electrical outlets. I was greeted this morning by a GPS unit that warned “battery low” even though I had plugged it in last night. With this warning, I had time to at least get some charge in it to carry me to Mesa, AZ today. Lesson learned: Do not take an electrical outlet for granted. Sometimes they are just “holes”.

Next, I opened the tiny refrigerator that was in the room to find warm drinks inside. A refrigerator is a really nice feature since I can buy drinks the previous night and be ready to go in the morning, thus avoiding a stop for drinks only a couple minutes into that morning’s ride. Well, last night I noticed it wasn’t working, and the young Indian girl behind the desk came over to the room, turned a timer on the back of the unit (what refrigerator has a timer???) and said “There you go. Your drinks will be cold in the morning.” The fact she admitted to never having seen a refrigerator with a timer on it before should’ve alarmed me to suspicion, but she seemed to have such confidence, and I was tired, so I went with it. Lesson learned: Trust no refrigerator with a timer.

Taking my time in preparing this morning so the GPS unit could charge, I still made it on the road by 6am-ish. Last night, I had walked into downtown Globe, a two block area with a few shops. After enjoying a couple Happy Hour beers at a 40-year old establishment “Under the Palms” bar filled with salty residents, I wandered outside to find an old pickup truck used partly as a drawing card to an adjacent store. I walked in to find a store filled with cool unique items. I explained to the owner, who had relaxed in a chair up front, that I simply couldn’t afford the weight of the items since I was riding a bike across the country. So instead, we talked for a while and I parted remembering his genuine smile and good wishes for the remainder of my trip. Barely down the road this morning, the same potentially 1948 Ford pickup had just turned onto the highway heading my way. Soon I saw the same big grin and an arm waving out of the driver’s side window silently wishing me well as I headed out of town. “Cool”, I thought. “Only in a small town would you see the same guy twice within only 12 hours.”

They say that Globe, Arizona is an old copper mining town (and even older silver mining town), while Safford, Arizona is a new copper mining town. The neighboring towns of Claypool and Miami located nearby Globe, were started to support the mining industry as well. Glad to see flat to slightly downhill roads, I made good time clearing each of these places.

Once through Miami, I found the job of climbing was to begin. Miami lies at 3,400 feet elevation, while the road I was climbing lead to Top Of The World, Arizona near the top of Signal Mountain at 4,600 feet. This steep path to God would’ve intimidated me at the start in Florida, but now I sip some water, crank down into a low spinning gear, and settle in without any expectation for speed knowing that sooner or later I will get there.

On top of the pass, I got a text from Willie Clausing, Audrey’s mom. She had noticed the winds were expected to be bad and offered a ride to Mesa, Arizona. I knew there were two mountain passes on today’s docket, and I wanted to earn any ride in a car I accepted today. Having earned the downhill side of this mountain pass road, I continued biking while evaluating the winds and enjoying the scenery as I went, anticipating a climb to the next mountain pass ahead.

Just east of the town of Superior, I found myself at the entrance of Queen Creek Tunnel built in 1952, replacing the 1926 Claypool tunnel, which resembled little more than a single path blasted through the mountain itself. Queen Creek Tunnel offered two lanes coming my way, while one lane led the way toward Mesa. Glad to be on the uphill side of this ¼-mile long tunnel, I turned on my flashing headlamp and my flashing tail light and started inside. It made to be a fast and wild ride rather than the hazardous uphill effort coming from the other side. (Check out the video at http://video.aol.com/video-detail/queen-creek-tunnel/789441012 and notice there is no shoulder space for bicycles inside the tunnel.)

The ride through the tunnel was capped by a flight across the Salt River arched bridge. Seeing a truck behind me, I thought he was being kind maintaining a slow pace and distance behind me. It was only at the end of the day that I checked the GPS and found my max speed was 70 mph. He wasn’t holding back. I was simply flying.

In the town of Superior, Willie and I coordinated a pickup location at Florence Junction. That would enable me to reap the downhill rewards and provide her some time to get there. After meeting her on the side of the road, we secured the bike to her car and drove by the Superstition Mountains on the 30 mile drive back to Mesa. The Superstition Mountains are the mysterious home of Jacob Waltz’s “Lost Dutchman Mine”. For some good reading, check out… http://www.prairieghosts.com/dutchman.html

Back at the relaxing home of Randy & Willie Clausing, after doing some laundry and enjoying a
home-cooked meal, I got together with a former Tektronix colleague, Chad Eby. Sharing laughs about “old times” as well as laughs about what has occurred to both of us since then, we enjoyed a few beers at Four Peaks Brewery near ASU before pausing our anecdotes, agreeing to meet again soon, and calling it a night.

Safford, AZ to Globe, AZ (79 miles)

2008-06-12T13:58:00.000-07:00

Tuesday June 10, 2008

I was up earlier than I had been since my Dad woke me in highschool to help with frost protection when the freezing cold threatened his crop of strawberries. I woke at 3:30am, and was on the road by 4:40am. This time no flats found in the motel room and I could get started on time. Of course it is dark at 4:40am. The sun comes out at 5:15am-ish, so I was equipped with headlamp and flashing tail light.

Starting out it was about 64 degrees F. The road was slight downhill for the 20 miles my knees took to stop griping at me. I didn't want to leave today. I would've liked a day to rest, but Safford is overcrowded with copper mine workers, and the room I was in was reserved. It would've been difficult to find another room, and with the record high of 105/106F in Safford expected, I wanted out to higher ground.

After slowly giving up elevation from the 2,900 feet at Safford, 20 miles out at 2,500 feet it started to turn upward. Maybe my knees just wanted some challenges because they stopped their griping and went to work after that.

Distractions for me included some beautiful scenery along the way and continued songs via my Ipod. I didn't take too many photos today because I knew the road was largely uphill (then down, then back up, then down, then way back up, etc) and my pace would slow into the hours of threatening heat.

I rode through an Apache Indian Reservation. Stopping to get some drinks and a sandwich at Peridot on US Highway 70, I had a poor experience at the only convenience store there. I bought a large soda from the fountain and filled the largest cup with ice almost to the top since I was interested in the ice not the soda. I also bought two waters to transfer to my water bottles on the bike thinking i would drink the soda and then use the ice in my bottles. After filling one water bottle, I ran out of ice, so I thought he will let me get more ice as long as I use the same fountain cup. After asking "Is it OK if I just grab some more ice in this cup?"..."You will have to pay for more ice", I was told. Wow. I think they are still bitter about the whole cowboys and Indians thing. I wasn't about to support that, so I went iceless in that bottle. (Note: I saw a pallet of Cobra malt liquor being wheeled into the store as I left. Make your own call on that one, but know that the shoulders of the highway had many broken beer bottles on them.)

That story is evidence there isn't much to say today. Finally, I came to Globe at elevation of 3,500 feet. Temperature when I arrived was 93 degrees F, and I immediately rewarded myself with Dairy Queen on the way to the Super (Duper) 8 motel.

I am proud of two back to back long distance rides without a rest day in a while. Yesterday's 78 miles was topped by today's 79 miles of cranking a 100 pound bike (with gear) up the hills. Tomorrow, I understand there is great scenery and bridges between Globe and Apache Junction (near Phoenix metro area), and after a little effort to get started uphill, it is a nice drop most of the way, including riding through a long tunnel blasted through a mountain. Lucky for me, the slope of the tunnel is in my favor from this direction, otherwise I have been told it is unsafe from the other way.

Pics will be added for these pages when I am in Phoenix for a few days. Planning to leave there Monday June 16 with my friend Mike arriving from San Diego to join in the last leg of the trip.

Lordsburg, NM to Safford, AZ (76 miles)

2008-06-09T19:05:00.000-07:00

Monday June 9, 2008

I woke up early figuring I could get my stuff packed and either get into the continental breakfast early so I could start early or just have a little time to relax before a long riding day. Everything was set and I was about to load the bike, but first, I thought, I better check the tires like I have become accustomed to each morning.

I grabbed the bike pump and started for the front tire... FLAT! I looked at the back one and it wasn't. OK, a setback for time... one flat tire. I got the tire off, took the tube out, found the hole, retraced it to the tire and found a small wire (again) that had managed to get up in there. Patched, filled, and ready to go. I thought "I better check that back one, too". I found it to be 20-30 psi low and that wasn't a good sign last time in Houston when I wound up, later that day, changing the tube in a park after ridiculously just pumping it up that morning. OK, back tire off, tube out, found the hiole, retraced to the tire, another small wire.

Here is the lesson about Interstate travel by bicycle. The shoulder is dangerous. Not because of the cars going by on your left, but because of all the debris in the path ahead of you, including the thousands of small wires from the blown tire scraps laying all about. I actually said to myself yesterday when riding on I-10 and seeing all the tires which seemed an obstacle course at the time, "if I don't get a flat from this, I will be surprised". Well, I did. Two of them. So the flat count is up to 3 for the trip.

Out of Lorsdburg at 7:45am after scarfing down a less than spectacular contental breakfast at America's Best Value Inn. I was an hour behind whgat I had hoped for. With virtually no wind to battle for the first time in days, I made great time for the first 2 hours of flat riding. After 2 hours, I had made about 32 miles and crossed into Arizona. I had seen a Javelina (http://www.desertusa.com/magnov97/nov_pap/du_collpecc.html) along the way and he stopped on the side of the two lane road that is Highway 70 out in the middle of nowhere. Going for a better camera shot, I approached a bit closer, but stunned by the amount of luggage I am carrying, he ran off through a fence and out of view. So click the link. It is the best I can do.

At Duncan, Arizona, over an Orange Soda and a Snickers, I was told the road climbs beyond the "S-curve" ahead. Ooooh, the S-curve. How exciting.

They were right! Two miles out of town, the road began climbing. Working hard to get upo the hill, sweating and panting in heat that I would've been able to get ahead of without 2 flats in the motel room this morning, and eventually I reached 4,400 feet elevation at mile 48 of today's ride. After that, it was some sweet downhill cruising. I knew what the elevatiopn profile looked like for today's ride, so I knew the worst was over. I began taking photos and even some video while riding. It is some amazingly beautiful scenery in the Arizona desert, and riding it solo provided an overwhelming feeling of pride about what ground I have covered so far.

Almost 30 miles of downhill and flats, and I found myself passing through small towns of San Jose, Solomon, and then finally coming to Safford. Safford is the first town to offer lodging since Lordsburg, NM, and with the temps these days, camping is out of the question. It was 97F when I got off the bike. "How do you stand it?", my Dad proudly asked me yesterday on the phone during a post-ride debriefing. I thought about that question a while today. I think my answer is "I have no choice." After getting into today's motel (Days Inn) I got word of tomorrow's forecast: 106F for a high. So again, there is no reason to stay here. Hoping it gets cooler if I wait a day just doesn't work. Tomorrow I will try for an early pre-dawn start.

Deming, NM to Lordsburg, NM (61 miles)

2008-06-08T19:10:00.000-07:00

Sunday June 8, 2008

Remember Floyd Landis in the 2006 Tour de France??? He was making his way to the top of the leader chart until tanking badly only a couple days before the end. Most people counted him out. The following day was a miraculous ride. He blew everyone away that day and won the 2006 Tour de France. So miraculous it was nearly unbelievable, and lead to drug testing and eventual stripping him of the title months after the Tour was over. (NOTE: Floyd was framed. I could go on and on about how steroids work, how one must take them for a period of time to see any benefit, and how all previous tests were negative prior to a positive result from the French lab after yet another American won the Tour following retirement of Lance Armstrong.)

Anyway, I didn't win the Tour today, but it was a nice recovery from the near heat exhaustion finish I had yesterday. Instead of steroids I used Endurolytes, which helps to restore your body's electrolytes when working out in heat. Another 94 degree day today by the time I finished, so I was glad to have them (and this time use them).

The day began with a little continental breakfast talking with Cecilia, the desk lady at Day's Inn in Deming, NM. Cecilia told me about her son and how he may be moving to San Diego. At first supportive, then I learned more about her son. He is 17 and works in construction. He has a girlfriend and two kids with her. Wha??? Yep. Cecilia attributes it to "nothing to do in Deming". I think it is time to build a bowling alley or something. I then chose to reverse my supportive angle citing a couple friends who have moved from San Diego because it is difficult to get ahead there. I suggested she try to get her son to reconsider.

After a danish and cereal, I hit the road at 6:20am. It was cold, so I wore my arm warmers. Actually wore them all day as I rode 60 miles to Lordsburg. Interstate 10 is flat in this area, and stops only includes a Rest Area at mile 22 or so, the Continental Divide at mile 35, and then the finish.

Not alot to say today. This blog entry was more exciting than my ride today. Interstate travel is boring in a car and 10x as boring on a bike.

Many thanks to Pearl Jam, Art Brut, Son Volt, and the many others who made today tolerable. It was the first day I used my IPOD to listen to music. I knew I was saving it for something, and since I haven't seen too many dogs on Interstates, today was perfect for it.

ride stats later...

Las Cruces, NM to Deming, NM (60 miles)

2008-06-07T17:22:00.000-07:00

Saturday June 7, 2008

I woke up at 5am. I shouldn't have watched whatever mobvie that was on HBO last night. I turned it off before the end but it was already 11pm when I did that. Staying up "late" last night hurt me today, despite the fact 11pm in my pre-ride life was not late at all.

I got started riding at 6:45am after a good breakfast at the hotel. Taking Hwy 28 to Valley Road to US 70, I headed out of Las Cruces to I-10. On Hwy 70, the climb began. A girl on a bike got in front of me right before the climb. She was a ways ahead, but I could see my pace was equal to hers despite the fact she had no weight on her bike. But then I let her go. And go she did. I saw her later while I was on I-10 and she was returning to Las Cruces (presumably) on the airport frontage road to I-10. She yelled "Hey!" in an awakening way, yet supportive. I "Hey"-ed her back.

The ride was good through mile 40. I had ditched the extra 3L of water I had been carrying since Del Rio and the bike seemed more responsive today. After stopping at Aleka Flats and a cheesy gas station selling any trinkets (or "curios" as Holley in Comstock, TX would say) you might possibly imagine, I headed down Hwy 549 for the remaining 20 miles to Deming. But the winds and the temperature picked up. My pace was crippled to 6-9 mph by lack of sleep, and these other factors. The wind was from the west, directly in my face, at 13mph and gusting at 22mph.

Today was exhausting! I managed to get into the edge of Deming and found a car dealer. I parked the bike, walked inside, searched for a soda machine, and sat there in a stupor drinking Orange Fanta as well as bottled water as my body recovered. Bad day!

The 1.7 miles left to get to the Days Inn seemed difficult, but I rode slowly and steadily. My reward: a King size bed and an hour of not moving.

A little late lunch/early dinner followed by a Kmart (yep, can you believe they have one here?) run for drinks, and a blizzard at Dairy Queen and I am OK again. I will, no doubt, hit the sack early tonight. In fact, I'm signing off now.

Updates to other posts including photos are taking place when I have time, though it looks like Phoenix may be the time when some real solid updating takes place. Some new photos have been added and the "will add photos, please check back" has been removed from those posts. Enjoy.

Zzzzzzz

El Paso, TX to Las Cruces, NM (48 miles)

2008-06-06T14:25:00.000-07:00

June 6, 2006

I woke at 5am with the intention to get pedaling by 6:30am. Again, morning activities take a while. You have to take advantage of the availability of a bathroom (more than once), pack the bags because you need stuff from them until time to go, prep breakfast (oatmeal, mmmm), do the bike check (tire air pressure, etc), then load the bike (and this takes some developed skills considering I am still lugging the 3L of extra water on the rear rack). Oh yeah, and then go use the bathroom again.

Getting out of El Paso wasn't much fun. Since yesterday was essentially a rest day, the hills on Mesa Street in El Paso were punishing. I knew it would be a flat ride from El Paso to Las Cruces, but within El Paso there are some hills. I am getting familiar with my smallest chainring up front rather than work my knees and legs harder than necessary in the second or third chainrings. Moving slowly but steadily up one hill in El Paso, I had a short exchange with a girl sitting at the bus stop. I said "slow mover, eh?" Her response: "Yep."

I found my way into New Mexico at 8am Mountain Time. (That's right: MOUNTAIN TIME. I am only one time zone away from being back drinking beers with my peeps in San Diego.) Following Hwy 28 to Las Cruces, there was a lot of agriculture along the way: flooded pecan orchards (I had no idea they do that), onion fields (never had I seen so many onions planted and I grew up on a produce farm), vineyards with tempting wine tastings, and a strange animal known as the alpaca (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alpaca). As I was staring at the alpaca, an El Paso couple, Don and Grace, on bikes rolled up to me. "Now answer the question you've answered for everyone else so far" Don said, "where did you start and where are you going?" I responded "Florida to California." "Ah, the Southern Tier" he said knowingly. Clearly I am back on the Adventure Cycling Association route for the day and so people are wise to the route. Tomorrow will be different as I dodge the mountains and instead head to Deming.

Following Hwy 28 with some foresight of what I would see thanks to Don. After the tiny town of San Miguel, pecan trees lined both sides of the road. Picturesque is all I could think at the time. Such a sight could only be complimented by... oh yeah, there it was, Stahmann's store specializing in pecan candies, ice cream, and coffee. A couple treats later, I got back on the road the remaining 8 miles, passing through a cute town of Mesilla with shops and vineyards, and made it to the south side Las Cruces. Some may call me a high roller, but I'm staying at the Comfort Suites tonight. I found a couple dumps like those that I have already stayed at, but for $66 (special discounted rate pro-charity Johnny gave me) including breakfast and access to a computer (no library hunt for me today) I couldn't pass it up. I had lunch at the Gadsden Purchase Grill & Saloon where most people polled could not identify the alpaca I had photographed earlier. Incidentally, the Gadsden Purchase was completed in 1854 and allowed the US to purchase for $10 million (equivalent to 10 gallons of gas today) the land from Mexico than now makes up the southern border from El Paso to California. I read. You read. We learn.

I went to St. Clair Winery & Bistro tonight down the road in Las Cruces. The charming Erin, bartender, set me up with a DH Descombes Syrah (her alltime favorite) while waiting for my Pasta Danielle. (Hi Erin.) More learnin': New Mexico is the oldest wine producing region in the country. And the St. Clair Winery is the largest winery in New Mexico. I may even stop at the one in Deming tomorrow since Erin gave me advance notice that I'm heading right for it.

A schvitz in the hottub tonight and an early start tomorrow is predicted.

start time: 6:47am
end time: 11:30am-ish
time on bike: 3:29:30
mileage: 45.35 miles
avg speed: 13.09 mph
max speed: 28.90 mph
calories: 3406
conditions: 75-85F, flat near 3,900 ft elevation once out of El Paso

Marathon, TX Article: Biker Rides for Water in Africa

2008-06-06T14:19:00.000-07:00

from the Marathon News Leader (Texas)
http://www.tcnewsleader.com/mnlnews.htm#biker

Biker rides for water in Africa

By R.M. GLOVER

MNL Editor

MARATHON -- On a good day Dan Altenburg can average 16 miles per hour but last Monday he slowed to 11 mph as he climbed the 1,300-foot elevation rise on the long stretch from Sanderson.

“I’m glad I left early,” Altenburg said, sipping a Tecate during lunch at the Oasis Bar and Restaurant.

He rides a disc-brake-fitted, stiff-leather saddled Giant OCR Touring bike, weighing in at 30 pounds.

Then add 60 pounds of gear and you can understand why his calves are the size of watermelons.

He left Saint Augustine, FL, almost two months ago.

“I’ll be in San Diego before you know it,” he said. His short-cut hair was graying but he didn’t look over 32.

He was sturdy built, not too tall and there was a certain alertness in his blue eyes.

Altenburg is raising money for a charity that drills water wells in Ethiopia and Uganda. For $5,000, he can buy one well.

“Mothers have to decide whether to give their babies a cup of dirty water or none at all.” Altenburg said. “Not an easy choice.”

Altenburg had been selling cell-phone circuitry for Tectronix.

“My boss was in the middle of giving me a raise when I told him I can’t do it anymore,” he said. “I knew what they expected from me and I wasn’t prepared to give ’em 100 percent. So instead of a raise I gave them my resignation.”

He went to Alaska and got involved in the Iditorod dog-sled race, becoming “by chance” the lead dog trainer for the first sled out of Anchorage on race day.

“There must have been 100 film crews out that day from all over the world and there I was leading the lead sled to the starting line,” Altenburg said.

He has one of those TV happy determined faces.

For more information and/or to dontate to Altenburg’s African cause check out his blog at Charitywater.org/getinvolved/promos/dan_altenburg/

Updated Route through New Mexico and into Phoenix

2008-06-05T18:06:00.000-07:00

Friday June 6
El Paso to Las Cruces: -200' and 55 miles TX Hwy 20 and NM Hwy 28

Saturday June 7
Las Cruces to Deming: +350' and 60 miles along I-10 and frontage roads

Sunday June 8
Deming to Lordsburg: -100' and 58 miles along I-10 and frontage roads

Monday June 9
Lordsburg Up US Hwy 70 to Safford: from 4,157 down to 3,000 ft elevation but with what in between? 73 miles of uncertain elevations on US Hwy 70

Tuesday June 10
Safford to Globe: +500' gain by end of day but a few spike hills and 79 miles on US Hwy 70

Wednesday June 11
Globe to Mesa, AZ: -3,400' but climb 2 passes first, 61-71 miles on Hwy 60 into Apache Junction, then University to Adobe Road to 8th Street

projected arrival to Phoenix: June 11 or 12 (if I need a rest day or winds become an issue and Ramon isn't driving by)

projected arrival into San Diego around June 25th (yep, it's getting within forecast reach)

Marfa, TX to El Paso, TX (8 miles)

2008-06-05T12:52:00.000-07:00

Thursday June 5, 2008

OK, it is not 8 miles from Marfa to El Paso! Here is the story...
I knew from the forecast that ridiculous winds were forecasted for the area. I was seeing 30mph winds coming from the NW projected. I was heading NW, as luck would have it.

But luck be a lady...
Maybe not a lady. The guy's name was Ramon Hinojos from Alpine, TX.
I was up at 4am. After a hearty oatmeal breakfast with Mike O'Connor, my accomodating host in Marfa, I left for Van Horn with his suggestion "go like hell until the town of Valentine". The wind was pretty light this early in the morning. The sky was completely black except for starlight. Equipped with my flashing strobe headlamp and flashing red tailight, I was cruising up the slight inclines of Hwy 90 toward Valentine. Already seeing mule deer and antelope, only 3 cars had passed me each likely puzzled by the flashing lights atop my head and bike until they were right up next to me. Ramon was so puzzled that he passed me heading west, then slowed down to take another look. He put it in reverse and I pulled up next to the truck.

"You having trouble", he asked?
"Nope, just biking" I said.
"Oh, you're pedaling. I wasn't sure. Those flashing lights got my attention, but I wasn't sure what you were." Ramon stated.
"Just pedaling man. I hear the winds are supposed to be crazy so I need to get as far as I can before they pick up. I better go." I said.
"Well, you want to just put the bike in the back?" he asked.
I hesitated. I had planned this route carefully. And I was up predawn, pretwilight, to get a jump on Mariah. But given the following I decided it was too good an offer to pass up...
1. It was 74 miles to the next "service" (place to get a drink, food, rest, help).
2. My front deraileur was making noises yesterday and I thought I had fixed it, but in the dark I wasn't testing it too much waiting for dawn instead. What if my fix didn't take?
3. During routine tire pressure testing this morning, the tip of the valve on the rear tube broke off when I was done pumping it up a bit. That meant that I could not close the valve, nor add air should I need to. Riding with that much weight on the bike without closing the valve seemed like it might cause air to escape. The next time I needed to adjust air pressure in the rear tire, the tube would need replacing. Not something I wanted to do in the dark.
4. Winds were projected at 30 mph from the NW. That would be brutal!
5. I didn't ask for a ride. He offered it.

I loaded the bike in the back and got in the truck. I told him I was going to Van Horn. He said he was going to El Paso which went right through Van Horn. As Van Horn approached, I was preparing to get out, but conversation with Ramon was good and I could tell he liked the company. He told me tales of growing up in Terlingua in Big Bend area, home of the first chili cookoff he said, and being one of 9 kids in his family. He continued on with stories from his younger days when he gauged distances to nearby towns based on consumed beers : "How far to Fort Davis?" "Oh, a 6 pack or so, but to get to Carlsbad, NM takes a case at least."

Turns out he is a 58-year old disabled vet having served in the Army in 1969 and 1970. With plans to be sent to Vietnam following his being stationed in Germany, he got in a car wreck. He now walks with a cane, and takes trips to Veterans Hospitals at great distances for other ailments. He goes to El Paso 4 or 5 times amonth for tests related to cirrhosis of the liver, which he tells me is terminal in his case. He offered to follow the bike route I intended to pedal, and with winds becoming obvious, I was not sure how I could refuse given the fact these winds could continue for days as far as I knew.

As this self-proclaimed "instigator" drove with his little 6-month old poodle hiding beneath a cooler of drinks and sandwiches in the back seat of his 2005 quad cab Chevy truck, we saw the fires in the Davis Mountains, a peculiar DEA blimp anchored to it's docking station on the south side of the highway, and we stopped at a Prada Marfa store that is nothing more than art, with a front door that does not open and will never be open for business. Following that, it was simply pecan tree orchards, some cotton farms, and a lot of what I was glad not to have passed on bike given the reward vs effort ratio today.

It would have taken me three days to get as far as he had taken me in a matter of a few hours. Appreciative, I arranged to buy him lunch after his doctor appointment. I had checked into a hostel for $20/night and would look over my intended route for the next few days since my schedule had just jumped ahead.

Following lunch with Ramon, I turned down his offer to take me further betting the winds would let up, and knowing I was in a cheap place should I need to wait it out a bit. I was glad to meet ramon and have promised to send him copies of the pictures I took on the road today.

I just checked the winds in Van Horn to see if I made the right choice today. 52 mph from the NW. I may have died today had I biked it. Thanks Ramon!

This afternoon, I took my bike to Crazy Cat cyclery and had the front deraileur adjusted and got as new tube installed, so the bike is raring to go again tomorrow. As raring as 110 pounds can be, that is.

start time: 5:30am
end time: 6:00am
total time on bike: 30 mins
mileage: 8 miles
avg speed: 13.12 mph
max speed:
calories: 870 cals
conditions: dark, cold (45F in desert low areas), relatively flat, wind not blowing yet

Alpine to Marfa, TX (26 miles)

2008-06-04T18:37:00.000-07:00

Wednesday June 4, 2008

Short day again but cool little Far West Texas towns (Trans Pecos towns, as they say).

Topics today:
Where the deer & the antelope play
Flat Tire, not mine... a PT Cruiser, and, of course, I stopped to help.
Marfa Highlights: Marfa Lights, Presidio County Courthouse, Hotel Paisano.
Where there is smoke there is fire: A fire threatens the Fort Davis mountains. I am staying on Hwy 90 to go around them.

Newspaper Article in my hometown paper

2008-06-03T15:21:00.000-07:00

http://www.wisconsinrapidstribune.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2008806010316

Former Rapids resident bikes for water
_______________________________________

Dan Altenburg, 36, is on the adventure of a lifetime, and he is doing it for charity.

Altenburg, formerly of Wisconsin Rapids, is on a 2,300 mile-plus bicycle trip from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean, and he hopes to raise $23,780 doing it.

"All of that money will go toward providing water for people in Uganda, Africa," he said.

He dipped his back tire in the Atlantic Ocean at St. Augustine, Fla., on April 25 and spent the Memorial Day weekend in Texas with friends. He hopes to reach San Diego by the Fourth of July.

"Most people bike west to east, but I wanted to end up in my adopted home town of San Diego," he said.

"I'm not into charities, but this one is different," Altenburg said. "There are some interesting parallels between this organization and who I am."

He has degrees in geology with a focus on groundwater.

"A single well will provide water for 400 people for 20 years," Altenburg said. "If I can raise $23,780, that's $10 a mile, that would be enough money to bring clean water to 2,500 people."
All of the money he raises will go toward the construction of four clean water systems in Uganda.

"In Uganda, 60 percent of the population lives without access to clean drinking water. The life expectancy there is 43 years," Altenburg said.

He has been traveling the back roads of America on a route provided by Adventure Cycling Association. He stays at campgrounds, motels and with friends along the way.

"I picked the southern route because I have several friends along that route," he said. "My biggest challenge is doing it alone. I'm a social person and it would be nice to be able to ride with someone."

Altenburg has traveled 1,060, about one third of the way, and his only problem has been a flat tire. He started out traveling 50 miles a day, and then upped it to 70 miles a day. Recently, he was slowed by the heat and hills of east Texas. He carries 50 pounds of gear on his bike.
He talks by phone to his parents here and his girlfriend in San Diego daily.

"Many of the friends I stay with along the way call to check on my progress," he said. Friends and family members keep also track of his travels on his Web site www.charitywater.org/getinvolved/promos/dan_altenburg.

"People I meet ask how I trained for this, but I didn't do much training," he said. "I'm an average Joe. I like to stay up late and I eat fried foods."

Altenburg is the youngest of Harold and Jean Altenburg's four children. He is a 1989 graduate of Assumption High School. He graduated from St. Norbert College, De Pere, in 1993 with a degree in geology, and earned a master's degree in geology from the University of Alabama. He worked in his field for four years. Most recently, he worked in sales for a technology company for more than six years.

One friend will meet him in Arizona and ride with him; others will meet him closer to San Diego.
So far he has raised $2,000 and realizes he needs to get the word out for more contributions.
"People hear about it by word of mouth," he said.

Anyone who would like to make a contribution may do so at Charity Water, 150 Varick St. 5th Floor, NY NY 10013, making a note on the memo line that it should go to the Dan Altenburg fund.

Nancy Quick is a correspondent and former lifestyle editor for the Daily Tribune.

Marathon, TX to Alpine, TX (32 miles)

2008-06-03T14:51:00.001-07:00

Tuesday June 3, 2008

4 Trains
John the Bikeman
Liz Rogers, my generous host

Sanderson, TX to Marathon, TX (53 miles)

2008-06-03T14:47:00.000-07:00

Monday, June 2, 2008

I got started early again.. Yep, headlamp worn and flashing. It wasn't as early as I hoped, but there is a lot to do in the morning. Even being in a house last night instead of a tent, where I don't have to break down camp, time still seems to go fast as I pack my bags, etc.

The firtst 32 miles of today's route along Hwy 90 was a nice easy gradual climb. I gained 1,400 feet in 32 miles. Clearly that is not steep, and made for what could've been the most peaceful ride of the trip so far. No dogs, just the mountains of west Texas and some wildlife. After a while though, you look for progress, some sign you are getting there. All I had to work with was the County Line. I knew that at the Pecos/Brewster County line I 23 miles behind me and 32 to go. Brewster County greeted me with nice new asphalt vs some rough stuff that covers a good share of the roads here.

I laugh when I ride sometimes. In the openness, surrounded only by west Texas mountains, and often not seeing a car for miles, I laugh that I am really doing this. Of course, sometimes the laugh changes to dread when I am ready for the day to be over and it isn't, but that's the way it goes. Today to break up the ride, I stopped in at a picnic area again. Who uses these things out here? "Got any plans for Saturday? No?! I got it. Lets drive 300 miles. I know this nice picnic area of Hwy 90."

As I was riding along Hwy 90, to my left I saw a roadcut that revealed the vertical tilting rocks here. A sign close by told the story that these rocks are of the Ouchita Belt, of the same approximate age as the Appalacians, 275 to 290 million years old. Geology still fascinates me. I'd like to pick up a cool rock now and then and bring it with me, but the weight would kill me.

More topics later...
Linda Speares, the Oasis Cafe, Mark the reporter, and Paper-crete houses
The Historic Gage Hotel

Rest Day in Sanderson, TX

2008-06-03T14:46:00.000-07:00

Sunday June 1, 2008

I didn't do much today. I DID notice my mood was greatly improved waking up and knowing I could stay put. These rest days are so useful! Not just resting the body but my mind, too.

The house I am staying in is a cute cottage style place, and has no TV. But it is great. Without TV, I am listening to my IPOD music on the IPOD stereo furnished here, and I am planning my route. Right now, if my plans stays intact, I should arrive into Phoenix June 15th. It feels good to have more than the route to El Paso planned, especially when, once again, I will be going off the ACA route.

So, I heard from Sally who was talking to Jessie who is Billy Sue's cousin, that Dairy King (not Queen) would be open today. Finding places open on Sundays is difficult out here, so I was excited. I was told Dairy King opens at 2pm on Sunday. After more than a few crossings of Sanderson Canyon on my bike to check, I found the real deal is that they are open from 11:30am until 2pm, and then 5pm to 8:30pm. These are the King's hours by which you must abide.

A cute little place, nothing special, but an OK burger, onion rings, and vanilla malt. The King had pictures of all his family members taped to the wall and window by the cash register. A Mexican family, so the window was nearly covered.

When I was out looking for open businesses, I met a man at the market. "We never know when SHE is going to be open. She has odd hours" people have said about the lady at the Market. I get the feeling she isn't well liked. But as I sit on a bench outside the store in 100 degree heat drinking my cold orange Crush, a short 50-ish mexican man says hello. The usual exchange about weather took place, and as his english broke down, we replaced the english words with spanish. It reminded me of my nephews in Mexico City creating a language all their own as they learned both English and Spanish. In any case, the man talked to me about my ride, and then told me that he plans to do something similar soon. He explained "you see, I was sick with a bad back. I told God that if he fixed my back, I would walk 120 miles" (to some area attraction I forgot). "He fixed my back, so now I gotta walk" he said. HE further explained he plans to have a support vehicle behind him so he can get a drink, etc. and that he will choose a cooler time to fulfill his promise. I hope he doesn't hurt his back with all that walking.

Langtry, TX to Sanderson, TX (60 miles)

2008-05-31T14:33:00.001-07:00

Saturday May 31, 2008

4:30am I woke up again. Not even close to daylight, but dawn could not wait. I emerged in the dark, broke down camp, repacked my bags (with this much gear, everything has it's place and if it isn't put in it's place, the bags won't close), and left town with a flashing headlamp on my helmet and a red tail light on my bike.

Before leaving, the Immodium I took was wearing off. Not willing to go into the brush, where yesterday when inquring about "restrooms" I was warned there may be snakes, I found a unfortunately more noticeable place behind the Community Center that would enable me to "have some back support". Immodium must do some strange stuff to the human body to enable such a shutoff valve. What happened next happened with such pressure it may have exceeded yesterdays wind speed. Normally concerned about how I leave a campsite, I had no concerns this time.

Biking away in the dark was interesting: Deer jumping over nearby fences, sounds that cannot be identified, etc. One car on Hwy 90 even pulled over to wait for me to approach not sure what they were seeing from a distance given my flashing headlamp. I should've taken the opportunity to swerve all across the road and maybe take my glowing headlamp and throw it to simulate a UFO or something that would give them something to tell Mary Ann and Joan the next day over a burger.

It wasn't long before twilight: 6:15am. I passed the turnoff for Pumpville. So many of these towns have their history rooted int he railroad. Every 30 miles or so there was a water station to provide water for the steam locomotives. People on the train wanted to get off while the trains were refilling with water, and there were employees needed for the water refilling, thus a town was born. Pumpville's fate was worse than Langtry's. After steam went by the wayside, the trains went right on by. All that remains of Pumpville is a church.

I wasn't interested in the turnoff to Pumpville. I had enough hills and canyons that challenged me this morning, just like yesterday. There would be no extra spurs to my route today. An upcoming town named Dryden was an unknown to me. I had inquired with people what might be there since it was the only thing between Langtry and Sanderson. Some folks said nothing was there at all, but one person told me there was a store. I was hoping the one person was right.

Due to the early start today, at 9:30am I had made the 40 miles from Langtry to Dryden. Lo and behold, a store was not only there but OPEN! Pleased, I rolled up and while parking the bike, met the mailman who delivers mail from Del Rio to Sanderson. That is a 120 mile route.
Walking inside, the man who owns the store was sitting at the table talking with a local named Charlie Sikes. Charlie is kind of a local. He and his wife live in Houston, but they "bought a place here". Where that place was, I have no idea as this was the only place I saw for 40 miles. Charlie's wife talked me into having breakfast since you can order just about anything you want. The dining style here is... if you're thirsty, get up and go get yourself a drink from the refrigerated cases, if you're hungry, get up and get yourself something to eat, and before you leave, tell us what you had and pay for it. After talking with Charlie and the owner about my trip, being asked "Why are you doing this?" by Charlie and having the owner man respond "because it's there" (which is kinda right), Charlie said "it never bothered me none that it was there" and we all started laughing, on my part, maybe due to lack of sleep. Charlie and his wife had first come to the store to get 4 bags of feed for the deer, but with how Charlie was set in that chair when I walked in, there seemed to be no rush. As I was leaving, he and the others had gathered around the bags of feed, but were all just leaning on it, talking. It may have been a Dryden Community Meeting taking place as I think all residents were present.

Back on the road at 10:30am, the next 20 miles were brutal. The hills and canyons were up and down throughout, and given the lack of sleep, I wasn't sure if I would make it. The owner of the store at Dryden had said "oh yeah, right before Sanderson, you will cross that last big hill. If you can make it up that, you will feel like Superman and coast for the next few miles into town with your chest inflated." Each big hill I came to, I thought "Is this the one?" only to find another one behind it. 3 miles from Sanderson, I saw a picnic shelter. Not much to it, no restrooms or water, but a table shielded from the sun. I rode up to it, dismounted the bike in a clumsy way I am sure, and layed on the table. A trucker was parked nearby, but it wasn't long after my arrival that he left. "On my own now" I thought, as if he would come over and say "hey, let me take you into town". After a 10 minute cooling period just short of the "I'm never leaving" stage, I started pedaling again. I never saw another hill like those I had seen before, and I never coasted into town. The owner in Dryden was wrong. He must've been thinking of another road, though I don't think there is another one out here.

Renewed by my arrival at my destination town, I went to the Shamrock gas station where I met Phyllis over a cold Coke. This was Phyllis' last day working here before retirement. On the inside walls of the station, there were the pieces of art that were once a coloring contest. "That was from 15 years ago" Phyllis said. "We tear them off and give it to them when they graduate from highschool." Cute.

Before I left to go settle in at the guesthouse of Alpine-resident Liz Rogers, a little Mexican grandma was being lead to the front door of the Shamrock station. I opened the door for her and said "Come in where it is cool." She hesitated and responded "No ingles." So I said it in spanish. She commented "Hace calor... mucho calor" and seemed pleased with our simple exchange.

After cleaning up and settling in at the house, I went to the Public Library in this town of 861 residents. Arriving in the open hour window of 2pm-5pm, I did a quick preliminary update of my blog, before searching for a restaurant for dinner. The only place I could find was a bar that was open. Confirming they served pizza, I ordered one from the same woman I saw in the library. Her name was Bonnie and she likely beat me in here only by a few minutes to start her bartending shift. Unique place as the bottled beer is stored in ice coolers like you might bring to a tailgate party. It was all good by me. I had a beer, ate my pizza, and went home to collapse.

start time: 5:48am
end time: 12:30pm, maybe later. Was just glad to be done.
time on bike: 4:44:55
mileage: 59.86 miles
avg speed: 12.60 mph
max spped: 38.60 mph. I wonder if my brakes work?
calories: 4,502
conditions: Hot. 99F. I wasn't sure I could pull off the final 3 miles, but I did.
End elevation: 2,793 ft but I had to climb to that many times. I hate canyons.

Amistad/Del Rio, TX to Langtry, TX (49 miles)

2008-05-31T14:25:00.000-07:00

Friday May 29, 2008

A few of the following will be included in this story when I have time to write it.

I loaded the new 3L of water onto the rear rack of my bike in preparation for long stretches of desert without stores, etc. It beat spending the money on a Camelbak ($40) and trying to keep it clean (I have seen pictures of what those things looked like inside after a cross country ride, very moldy). My cost was simply $1.50, but it gave me some security (and extra weight) as I started this stretch.

Not far down the road, before Comstock, I reached a Border Control checkpoint. They stop cars and ask questions to verify your citizenship, etc. As I rolled up, the agent said "Are you crazy???!!!" "Maybe", I told him. He offered water stating "most cyclists ask for it here", but I was fine, even without my new 3L stash. Instead I went in to the trailer to use the bathroom. Three agents total... two males, one female. She was in the bathroom before me, and didn't look pleased to see me as she came out. Not knowing why I got that from her, I stepped inside. I think it would be cruel and unusual punishment if they could bottle that smell and use it against illegal immigrants, but it explained why she wasn't happy to see me going in there right away. A few photos of their vehicles later (photos of agents are not allowed), and I was back on the road.

Comstock TX: a small unincorprated place with a unique little store named Holley's. I believe Holley is a widow having told me her husband had a service garage here. When she would go into Del Rio, 30 miles away, she started buying 2 of what she needed and kept 1 of each item for sale. It worked, and her husband's garage turned into Holley's little convenience store. Remnants of the service garage are still existant. Though Holley intends to clean up the other half of the former garage site and expand the store to sell more "curios" as she called them (knick nacks), she was seen packaging used tires for sale and was marking the price on them while I warmed up my homemade brisket sandwich. She also explained that the gas pumps haven't been working for a while, and she is frustrated that the people haven't come to fix them because people pull in for gas and then she can't help them.
The diesel pump works, but because the price has escalated beyond the level anyone who made these pumps ever expected back then, she sells it by the half-gallon. You pay twice the total price you see on the pump.

I crossed the Pecos River on the way to Langtry. Some use the Pecos River to define West Texas. The PEcos River there is beautiful and I snapped many photos. While doing so, a tarantula walked past me. They say they are harmless to people, but man, they sure don't look nice.

Langtry, adjacent to a bend in the Rio Grande, was a challenging 60 miles from the start. 60 miles filled with elevation gains only to be followed by canyons where you gave it all back. Glad to be at the halfway point to Sanderson from Del Rio (the two places with more than a couple houses), I came to the Judge Roy Bean Visitor Center. There is little here besides the JRB Visitor Center, but Judge Roy Bean was such a prominent figure in Texas history that they preserved his saloon/justice hall as well as his house and an Opera House he built in hopes of luring to town a theatrical dame he was hooked silly on. The Judge was nothing more than a soloon owner with hopes of getting rich off the railroad workers. But then crime peaked to a level that the railroad demanded a lawman be appointed in that area of Texas. Roy got the call. He held court in his saloon and had his own brand of justice. For example: Gunfights were illegal. After one of the men died, he went to the body, found the gun under his collapsed frame, checked his pockets and found $41. His verdict was quick: For the crime of the concealed weapon, based on the evidence found, the fine was $41. Of course he kept the guns and money for himself. Although some might think he was a hanging judge, he never did. Instead he would take the gun and money of any evil-doer, anbd send them out of town to never return again. Getting around back then without a gun or money was a death sentence in itself. I've got more tales about Judge Roy Bean I'll share in person soemtime.

The Visitor Center allows long distance cyclists to use their restrooms while camping at the Community Hall across the road a ways. Trick is the Visitor Center closes at 6pm. After that, you better tighten up. Seeing a store across the street, I thought I would do a bit of recon. The store closes at 5pm. The post office (hard to believe they have one here), which is a single room with a locking door attached to the store, closes at Noon, and, despite my intent to send postcards, it was closed. After a quick burger at THEE gas station & restaurant (also closes at 5pm) where Mary Ann made me a burger while her mom, Joan, made small talk, I left the Visitor Center to set up camp. Finding the right spot for the tent wasn't difficult. There was only one shaded (but super windy) side at 7pm, and there were piles of goat droppings to avoid. As I set up the tent, a young dog from the neighboring house came over barking. Having enough of dogs on this trip, I charged him full speed and he ran away, but the barking got the attention of one of the 7-pickup-truck-owners who lived in the house nextdoor. I gave him a small wave that indicated "yeah I see ya, but I don't want to talk to you". He did the same. After I got the tent set up in crazy winds, I crawled inside my 95-degree home and just spread out. Shortly after, being Friday, the fellas from the 7-truck-house, came outside to drink beer and tell stories. All were Mexicans. They stayed out there well after the sun went down, turning on a porchlight ridiculously bright, almost to be considered a beacon. I think the temp cooled off around 10pm, and they went inside around 11:30pm. Finally, I fell asleep. At 1:30am, new voices emerged. There was no new vehicle, but new voices. They threw a can at the door of the 7-truck-house, and a man emerged probably expecting it was me. "What's up?" he said in English. Then the spanish flowed for the next 10 minutes, followed by all of them getting in one truck and heading off without lights on. From the spanish I could understand, I think a deal was being brokered to drive the "new arrivals" inland. I rolled over, struggling to get any sleep, and awaiting dawn.

start time: 7:21am
end time: Noon-ish (but too late to mail a postcard since the Post Office closes at Noon)
time on bike: 3:28:59
mileage: 49.15 miles
avg speed: 14.11 mph
max speed: 37.66 mph (I wonder what the speed rating of my helmet, or my skull, is)
calories: 3,708
conditions: Deep canyons between Comstock and Langtry swiping the elevation I worked so hard to gain, only to make me have to earn it again. Hot!!!! 95F
Elevation: I think around 1,500 ft

Bracketville, TX to Amistad Nat'l Rec Center, TX (43 miles)

2008-05-31T14:22:00.000-07:00

Thursday May 29, 2008

Awake at 5:45am and out riding by 7:11am. A simple wave to the guard at the front of Fort Clark Springs suggested I wasn't on a wanted list for the photo taking yesterday.

75 degrees F, slight tail winds to push me along, and flat roads made an easy ride to Del Rio.
Averaged 15-16 mph, which is moving nicely.

Speaking of moving nicely, it isn't easy to move nicely from Mexico to the US in this area.
San Diego has border patrol, but I have never seen anything like the number of agents near Bracketville/Del Rio. Look at a map and you will see Del Rio is right there next to Mexico with only the Rio Grande separating the two countries. As I pedalled on, there were often border patrol vehicles on dirt frontage roads scanning the scrub rangeland for signs of illegal immigrants. Some would have a guy staring at the dirt road itself looking for footprints at which point they would stop and investigate. I have seen sets of big tires chained together on these roads. The Border Patrol drags these tires behind their vehicles to wipe the slate clean, increasing the odds of seeing a fresh footprint during their next round. To my Mexican Brother-In-Law: knowing you might be interested in a long-haul bike trip...I suggest you find another route to bike. I can only imagine you would make very few miles each day being stopped and interrogated frequently.

No interrogations for me though. I arrived to Del Rio super early. Too early to stop for the day. Well, not too early for Dairy Queen I thought. I pulled in and found Jesus, a local exterminator doing his regular work outside. The restaurant was not open yet. He and a delivery driver were trying to get the attention of the kid inside, but because the kid had headphones on, it was impossible. Jesus and I had a nice talk about Del Rio (a "calm place" he called it) and the ride I was on, among other topics, while I was waiting for DQ to open it's doors. Oddly enough, Jesus lived and worked in Berlin, Wisconsin. Being from Wisconsin, our conversation went on. Seeing me give up on DQ, Jesus directed me to a nearby IHOP.

Misty had never met anyone biking across country before. And I had never met a pancake platter I didn't like, so I got along just fine with the waitress at IHOP. After I left and was unlocking my bike, Micheal, a hitchhiker carrying a Whattaburger soda cup, walked up to me. Definitely in the mood to talk, he told me about how his fiance' in Del Rio had cheated on him and despite their plans to get married this weekend, he was leaving to go back to El Paso. On the lawn of IHOP, we shared some "girls are evil" stories with eachother having plenty of them in our own mental luggage. I just wanted Micheal to know I knew where he was at. I challenged him to get to El Paso before I do and gave him the projected date of June 8th. "If I see you, I'm buying lunch" he said as we parted.

Continuing on Hwy 90 past Del Rio, I came to Amistad National Recreation Center. Well get this! At one time MExico and the US worked together real nicely. In fact, in 1969, the two nations built a dam of the Rio Grande to ensure that in dry seasons, there would be ample water to provide for people in the nearby areas of both countries. At the Visitor Center, the Park Ranger (?) helped me with my planning, showing me a topographic map of the area. He liked what I was doing but said he would need to do it with a group to get some time with people. I told him that this visit into the Visitor Center was my "time with people", though it seems I meet them hitchiking as well.

Looking ahead, I decided I wasn't ready to go too much further today based on accomodation availability and mileage, so I stopped at the Amistad Lake Resort. The lady behind the desk (Judy?) offered me a 15% discount because my ride is for charity. The motel is definitely not new, but included a basic room with a restaurant and gas station nearby. These are ideal for a cyclist. Dinner and supplies for tomorrow are footsteps away. After doing a bit of sink laundry and drying it almost instantly in the wind and heat out by the daytime-abandoned but remarkably clean swimming pool, I went to get some dinner. Lisa, the bartender helped me out, and after finding out I live in San Diego, told me that Byron, the owner, is "from out there somewhere". After Byron was done hanging with two drinking buddies telling fish stories (literally), he came to the bar. Byron is from Huntington Beach and a professional fisherman. He found this place locked up when he was at Amistad Lake and decided he was tired of pulling his boat trailer through Southern California traffic, instead to make a go of it with a highschool buddy turned business partner out here near Del Rio.

I had noticed on the margherita list that there was one called "Byron the Bachelor" Margeherita. It was pricey, so I skipped it, but it was good to meet the guy who has a drink named after him. (Days later, I found out that Byron was indeed The Bachelor from the reality TV show, The Bachelor. I was also told that he is still with the girl he picked fromt he show and they are very happy. The assault charge she was booked with tells a slightly different story, but, base don my experience, I chalk it up to latina fire. The mystery is that some non-latinas have the latina fire.)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byron_Velvick

start time: 7:11am
end time: 11:30am
time on bike: 2:57:31
mileage: 42.55
avg speed: 14.38 mph
max speed: 26.62 mph
calories: 3,320
conditions: flat, 85F, tailwind, nice easy ride.

An easy ride today. Todays story will include border patrol agents, Jesus the exterminator, IHOP Misty, hitchhiker Mike from El Paso, and Huntington Beach-native Byron who owns the motel I stayed at.

start time: 7:11am
end time: 11:30am
time on bike: 2:57:31
mileage: 42.55 miles
avg speed: 14.38 mph
max speed: 26.62 mph
calories: 3,320
conditions: fast, flat, nice tailwind making the ride easy.

San Antonio, TX to Bracketville, TX

2008-05-31T14:19:00.000-07:00

Wednesday May 28, 2008

Groggy and sleepy-eyed I woke at 6:45am and sprung out of bed to say goodbye to Leslie (Ben's wife) since she was heading to work. Dragging my feet a little, I was finally ready to go by 11:30am after last minute research since the West Texas strecth makes me a bit nervous. I mean, if you don't plan well (knowing where you can get food, water, and stay for the night), your trip could end, and not positively.

Not wanting to morph into a tumbleweed with dry cracked lips, I spent a lot of time making sure I knew what was where in West Texas before setting off. The plan today was simply to get a lift well out of San Antonio and a boost to Bracketville right on Hwy 90 where I would start pedaling tomorrow. Simple enough.

Not even into one hour into the ride, just after commenting to Ben that his 1998 Ford Ranger was still looking good (and his confirmation it was working well too), the temperature gauge on the truck was pegged as we had reached Castroville (a west of San Antonio suburb). A pop of the hood and a quick look showed something that looked like Yahoo or Nestle Quik in his radiator. A few less than environmentally friendly actions later, and we decided to let the truck cool before giving it a trial run. That is when we met the friendly yet aggressive bully host of Pizza Hut, Carolyn.

As soon as we walked in the Pizza Hut door, her friendly but loud voice hit us "You fellas having the buffet?!" Um, well, I guess so. "Whatcha drinkin?" Um, whatever you think I should have, I guess. She was a 65-year old-ish woman with tight high gray hair and what may have been some new wrinkle-hiding makeup. After finishing our meals, she came by to talk a bit. Having found we had a breakdown, she recommended "Go to Albino's Garage down 90 just a bit more. They are good people. They'll treat you real fair." Satisfied with this advice, but hoping our analysis and environment-tainting actions fixed the problem, we were preparing to leave. She added "Ask for Mike. I play poker with him on Tuesdays sometimes." This was unexpected. I wondered if she ever intimidated Mike and others into folding when they likely had a winning hand.

Well, our fix didn't take. So down the road we found our way to Albino's and met Mike. Mike was a 37 year old guy with a young face, married with kids. Tired of working on the Toyota he had in the air, he looked happy to see a new project roll up. A quick diagnosis followed by a "I failed to maintain my vehicle, gosh, I am so embarrassed" confession by Ben, a side conversation about Mike's hobby of racing vehicles back when gas was cheaper, and Mike made a quick trip to the local NAPA. An hour or more later, and we were ready to go. Failed thermostat, potentially clogged by the sludge rolling through the cooling system. Albino's was a unique repair shop. Probably the only one I have ever seen with a piano in the waiting room.

In Bracketville, we found a restaurant named Julies. After entertaining oursleves in the roller-chairs they have, I had a BLT, while Ben had catfish. A local woman sat near us and after a couple questions from me about where the motel was, she asked questions about my trip. Her face suggested I would die, but her words were kind of supportive, kind of. After her dinner friends showed up, they were genuinely supportive and encouraging. Glad to see they weren't all suggesting hanging it up.

The story of Bracketville and neighboring Fort Clark Springs in a nutshell:
Fort Clark is a historic place. The last fort in the US to actively train and use cavalry. Now a privately owned place, it was once used as a military installation in US-Mexico wars, as well as the various wars with the Indians. To support the fort, Bracketville (first known as Bracket until the Post Office suggested the name change because there was already a Bracket, TX) popped up and provided supplies, etc. Tonight, I stayed at the only motel in town: Fort Clark Springs. The 12-room (estimate) motel was the barracks for the troops stationed there at one time. It was actually really nice, and the place should be seen if you ever go through there. They have a quirky no-photo policy, but I have a no-listen policy sometimes, too, so it worked out.

Tonight I went to bed filled with both anticipation and excitement for a portion of the trip I so heavily researched and planned, as well as anxiety that there was something I had forgotten or would come up at the wrong time in the middle of nowhere.

Route through West Texas

2008-05-27T15:24:00.000-07:00

It may be some time before I can update the blog from West Texas. To keep you entertained, feel free to google any of the towns I am passing through. Many have quite a history or a unique draw...for example:

Marfa: mysterious Marfa lights some say are UFOs or the result of a UFO crash in Mexico 40 miles awayhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CFnDrG1iH04

Marfa: site of the Rock Hudson, Elizabeth Taylor, James Dean film "Giant" as well as an artsy place in the middle of the Texas deserthttp://our.tentativetimes.net/marfa/

Marfa: Site of filming for "There Will Be Blood" and "No Country for Old Men"http://www.courierpress.com/news/2008/Feb/24/1-stoplight-2-movies-and-16-academy-award-to/

Marathon: Site of the Gage Hotel, a piece of civilization out in the middle of nowhere
http://www.gagehotel.com/________________

Wed May 28th: Brackettville, TX. Fort Clark Springs Motel

Thursday May 29th: 30 miles to Del Rio, TX, Warmshowers.org host: James McDermott

Friday May 30th: +300' and 41 miles to just west of Comstock, TX: camping at Seminole Canyon State Historic Park

Saturday May 31st: 20 miles to camp at the Judge Roy Bean Visitor Center(stopping here to make the next day reasonable, no showers here; if feel good Friday, may just come right here instead of Seminole Canyon though they have nice showers there and some good hiking)

Sunday June 1st: +1,400' and 61 miles to Sanderson, TX: guesthouse of warmshowers.org host Liz Rogers

Monday June 2nd: staying put in the gueshouse of Liz Rogers

Tuesday June 3rd: +1,100' and 55 miles to Marathon, TX, Gage Hotel or Marathon Motel

Wed June 4th: +500' and 31 miles to Alpine, TX, warmshowers.org host Liz Rogers

Thurday June 5th: 26 miles to Marfa, TX, Hotel Paisano Thunderbird Hotel or Riata Inn

Friday June 6th: 78 miles to Van Horn, TX (not sure how to break this ride up)Days Inn or other motel

Saturday June 7th: +500' and 33 miles to Sierra Blanca, TXEl Camino Motelor Sierra Motel

Sunday June 8th: -1,000' and 46 miles to Fort Hancock, TX, Fort Hancock motel

Monday June 9th: 48 miles to El Paso, TX, maybe a warmshowers.org host

Tuesday June 10th: rest in El Paso TX and plan next leg through New Mexico

Rest Days in Austin and San Antonio

2008-05-26T17:14:00.001-07:00

I am hanging with my friend John Ray in Austin from Thursday May 22 through Sunday May 25, 2008.

Thursday after he got back from work we went to Stubb's BBQ in downtown Austin for a Rock and Restock concert last night featuring Bob Schneider. Excellent BBQ and some pretty jumpin' tunes.

Friday after he got back from work we went downtown Austin to Maiko for Sushi. We also went to a bar named Ginger Man, where they serve what seems an endless variety of beers on tap. Crazy amount of people downtown near 6th Street. Lots of girls revealing skin and guys wearing the oh-so-predictable striped long sleeve dress shirts searching for "young love", each not having quite found the other yet. Katy the pedicabber (and long distance bike tourist of recent years) let me ride up front on her set of wheels for a photo.

Saturday we went out to Driftwood, TX to the Salt Lick for more BBQ. Cool place with a band playing at this dry-county-but-you-can-bring-a-cooler-with-beer place. Nothing but TV at night as the BBQ sauce percolated in my belly.

Sunday May 25 - Tuesday May 27, 2008 I am visiting my friends Ben Pedraza and his wife Leslie in San Antonio.

Monday we went to the Riverwalk, an area downtown along the San Antonio river filled with shops, cafes, etc. It is the most European thing I have experienced so far on this trip. And of, course, I also visited the Alamo, site of a Mexican victory (General Santa Anna) against Sam Houston's Texas army.

Tuesday I got a one-hour massage with Krista from Zenergy Touch (http://www.zenergytouch.com/). My lower back was tight and I was almost more worried a massage might worsen things and prevent a Wednesday launch, but I went in anyway. With a few well asked questions, Krista designed a massage session to address my needs since my bicycle journey was unique. Combining deep work with Thai massage and Medical Massage stretches, I walked away feeling far better than I did in 9 out of 10 past experiences. (#10 was with Karen Watt in San Diego.) When in San Antonio, give Krista a call!

I also cleaned the chain on my bike, patched a previously flat tube (hastily exchanged for a new tube a while back), and cleaned the bike up. My route is pretty well established now and will be the subject of the next blog entry as it may be some time before I can give detailed updates heading into West Texas.

Tuesday night was a movie named Seven Samurai sponsored by Texas Public Radio. Good times replacing subtitles with our own more creative jabber. The movie was at one of the theaters where you can order dinner and beer/wine while watching the film. San Diego really needs one of these.

My plan is to get started heading west again Wednesday May 28.

La Grange, TX to Bastrop, TX (31 miles)

2008-05-23T12:22:00.000-07:00

Wednesday May 21, 2008

I was a little uncertain I was going to leave La Grange today. This was a nice (and cheap) motel, and I needed more rest. BUT, I made a deal with my legs this morning: Get me to Bastrop before it gets hot and we will go no further today.

Having eaten a McDonalds apple pie from the night before as well as familiar oatmeal made in a styrofoam to-go cup from iced tea at lunch the day before, I headed off on Highway 71 toward Bastrop. I was glad my legs which had tightened up during the night felt loose and relaxed after the first few miles. It's funny how I can stretch my legs in the middle of the night and almost fall asleep during the stretch. When I started this trip I couldn't even stretch very far. Times have changed.

The Colorado River winds along the northeast side of Highway 71. What that means is that should the shoulder disappear for some reason, I am limited as to my exit strategy from Highway 71. This caused me to be a bit nervous at the start, but seeing the wide shoulder along Highway 71 once I got started, my concerns were diminished.

Starting at 7am today, my goal was to get to Bastrop before things heated up too badly. 75 degrees when I started was comfortable, and remained comfortable the entire 30 mile ride as the sun was struggling to find it's way out from behind the mostly cloudy sky. "It was MY turn today", I thought as I ran from the sun, powering up hills as road construction crews watched me go by.

Passing some interesting and pretty sites along the way, I stopped occasionally to snap some pics. More old cars filled a lot along the way. It would be interesting to poke around some of these since I still have the 67 Mustang Convertible I bought in highschool and fixed up. But I wasn't going to give the sun a chance to catch up since I could see old cars another day.

The railroad tracks crossed under Highway 71. Something about RR tracks that I like. You can see how far they go or how they gently curve around a corner leading to who knows what. It's probably this kind of thinking that got me on a bike to do this ride in the first place. The route of the imaginary tracks under my bike tires changes often with no certainty as to how far they go.

My very first oil/gas well was seen near Smithville. That reminds me that in West Texas I will be heading into the same country where the recent movie "There Will Be Blood" was filmed.

The Colorado River winds around quite a bit. The birds apparently loved the shelter under the bridge. Perhaps the unseen troll feeds them daily.

Buscha's restaurant along Highway 71 must be popular the two days it is open per week.

The hills roll more gently when following a good sized highway. I rather prefer that over the quick ups and downs where you immediately give back what you just earned. I reached over 500 feet elevations, which is the most so far, though modest, I know.

Reaching Bastrop shortly after 9am, with the sun still trying to fight it's way out from behind the thick mesh of clouds, I was drawn to a unique looking restaurant on the edge of town: Kendra's Roadhouse. A closer look showed a neon sign luring me in with Hamburgers, Malts, and Drinks.

The cook at the Roadhouse told me they opened at 10:30am, but offered me ice cold water while I waited. Taking the opportunity to tweak my journal, I relaxed in the sun-lacking breeze. Soon, Becky, a very nice waitress with dirty blonde hair arrived and offered me a malt before opening time. Banana malt it is!!! Before the burger I later ordered was served, a regular customer named Ann, gray-haired, heavyset, and pleasant, was walking in with a jug. I asked "How's it going?" She signed and said "good". "Seems that sigh tells something different", I said in return. She went on to tell me that she is driving down past San Antonio to go to a horse show and wanted to leave earlier than the time she had woken up this morning. The jug was for filling with Kendra's Roadhouse tea. "They have the best tea here", she told me. Simply reaching for the chair, she invited herself to my table and joined me while the jug was being filled inside. I like how informal it is to do that here. She told me about her Arabian horse named K.R. Azeem and how her interest in horses was recently renewed after years away from them. With a jug of tea now in hand, she went to the car only to return a moment later with a business card and proud photos of Azeem.

Following the early lunch, I found my way through downtown Bastrop to the public library for route research, email, and blog updates.

Having parked and locked my bike near the library, the rest of the day was on foot between the river walk, the library, and various downtown shops. At a late lunch (yep, I can eat more often these days) I made sure to have a Lone Star beer as well as a Shiner bock, both Texas staples.

At 6:30pm, my friend John Ray, who recently moved to Austin from San Diego, drove up in his Jeep and took me back to his place just north of Austin where we ate brats off the grill before a little TV talk, and bedtime.
Finally some rest days! My legs held up their end of the deal today!

Bellville, TX to La Grange, TX (45 miles)

2008-05-23T11:12:00.001-07:00

Tuesday May 20, 2008

After some much needed rest, I started my day at Snoflake Donut in Bellville, grabbing a tasty ham and cheese croissant. This place was crazy busy but the line moved fast and the business is well run.

Turning in my key at the motel front desk, it was no surprise to see a new degenerate attendent asleep, making no effort to wake as I walked in and set the key down. He simply went back to sleep as if I had disturbed him.

After only a couple miles down Highway 159 following my 7:30am start, three dogs charged me from their yard. They were running perpendicular to me and would surely catch me. I chose Oris's advice and stopped on a dime. They stopped as well. The trouble was that I couldn't get my left shoe unclipped from the pedal fast enough, and down I went on my left knee. Aching from the minor fall, I limped the bike forward while the dogs just watched. Once I got far enough away, I began pedaling on, but I wasn't happy with this start to the day.

Rolling through Nelsonville and seeing nothing, I continued until the town of Industry. At the Shell station there, I met a nice lady who was working the register. She and I talked about the hot weather, the MS150 ride that comes through each year between Houston and Austin, and how she never feels like doing her gardening when she leaves the station. Trading yard work for transportation entered my mind. ;-)

In Willow Springs, I stopped at another little store but only to "borrow some shade". I never went in, but outside i witnessed a mama cat moving her litter of kittens one by one to a perhaps safer spot free from either predators or human observers. Growing up on a farm this was a familiar site when us kids got a little too close for mama cats comfort.

Rek Hill was another sort of Nelsonville. Nothing there. In Fayetteville, I found a cute downtown with B&B's but rather unfriendly people at the little store I stopped at. One word answers and no eye contact was all I got from the attendant while I made small talk. Customers walking in never gave me the time of day. There will be better places ahead I am sure, and I was glad to leave while the attendant chose to come outside nearer the fuel pumps to smoke his cigarette.

After many miles of open road bordered by fields full of Texas longhorns, I was only 6 miles from La Grange when I pulled under some shade at Lonestar Truck Equipment. As I typically do, I go inside to let them know I am just hanging out in the front of their place for a little while to cool down. I was invited in "You sure you don't want to just come inside and enjoy the AC?" See, I thought, how quickly the day changes. There are friendly people everywhere if you look hard enough or just get lucky.

Inside I met Leah, the wife and co-owner with her husband Larry. That could've been Larry who invited me in as he left. Not sure. Anyway, Leah was eating lunch at a work table while her two cats, one midnight black in color and the other being a tabby, were lounging on the table in between moments of searching for attention. One of the work crew was also inside eating lunch and reading a book. Leah and I talked about my trip, and both she and the worker-guy agreed they couldn't bike the 6 miles left to La Grange let alone from Florida given the hills in the area. After a conversation about the slow economy, it's affect on the truck parts business, her cats and mine, all over a cold refreshing cola, she gave me a business card and asked me to send a postcard when I get to San Diego. "I'll probably forget about you until I get the postcard", she said "but then when it arrives, I'll say 'oh yeah, I remember him'."

Reaching the edge of La Grange, I called for motels. I found the Cottonwood Inn offered a place for around $35 and began pedaling in that direction. A little uncertain I was heading the right way, I rolled up to a Shell station where one of the three lady attendants was outside sweeping up and invited me in to cool down, knowing the Texas temperatures were about 5-10 degrees above normal right now. I couldn't say no to her, though I wasn't in need of a break quite yet. Inside I snacked on chicken tenders while sitting at a lunch booth that seems so common at these stations in the south. Shortly after, I biked through cute little downtown La Grange, crossed the Colorado River, and found myself at Cottonwood Inn, but due to the fact it looked sketchy, no one came to the desk when I continued to ring the bell, and there was a better looking motel across the street offering similar rates, I headed over to the River Valley Motor Inn, of course without the motor part.

At the River Valley Motor Inn, I got a discounted room on the recently remodeled first floor, and made use of my 2pm arrival here by doing laundry in the machines they offered, and planning my route in the largest room I have had since I started. Seemed luxurious in a "I just biked 1,000 miles" sort of way.

A chicken pasta dinner across the street at La Marina restaurant, followed by a telephone interview with Nancy Quick of the Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune (my hometown newspaper), a short nap later in the refreshing AC-filled room, and I felt a ton better than I did before the interview. I hope the interview didn't go too badly though I know my spirit was temporarily beaten down by the sun and heat over the last two days.

After a 1/2 mile walk to McDonalds for a Quarter Pounder and a return trip to the motel, I spoke with the night attendant about what route she suggested to get to Bastrop the next day. She advised State Road 71 rather than the windy hilly ACA route since I was back in a town on the predesignated route now. When I asked about a shoulder on SR 71, she replied "Oh no, there's not much room, but people here are aware of cyclists because of the MS150 ride each year, so you'll be fine if you're riding during daylight." I used the satellite images provided by googlemaps online using the computer in the lobby and I verified it was a divided 4 lane highway the entire way to Bastrop and I should be fine.

start time: 7:30am
end time: 2:00pm
time on bike: 3:50:08
mileage: 44.94 miles
avg speed: 11.72 mph
max speed: 27.42 mph
calories: 3,040
conditions: Hot, cloudless sky. 92F. Familiar wind from SW. All hills on Highway 159.

Beaumont, TX to Bellville, TX (68 miles)

2008-05-23T07:59:00.000-07:00

Monday May 19, 2008

Awake at 6am, it felt like I could lay there for days, but since I was sleeping in Gus's room, and recalling my own territorial issues when I was his age, I knew I had to give him his room back. After a bagel breakfast, I left the accomodating Wellner family at 7:30am pedaling from the center of Houston following the route mapped out the night before.

7:30am Houston traffic was pretty fierce, but, as Rob put it, there is not a good time to bike through Houston, so off I went taking my time and taking sidewalks where I could.

Memorial Park in Houston gave me an opportunity to address what I was too lazy to address earlier. I checked and filled the tires this morning, and that rear tire was very low. I had pumped it up anxious to start my Houston departure, but just like a day or two ago, it felt like I was pulling more than the 90 pounds my bike weighs. In Memorial Park, I chose to check the tire again. Finding it low, my instinct was pump it up and move on, but I realized there would be no better place to inspect and repair it than here on the lush green grass in the shade in the cooler temps provided this early in the day. Finding two small wires having pierced the nearly impenetrable Schwalbe Marathon Supreme tire, I patched the tube and was set to go again. These wires are suspected to be from blown retreads I always see on the side of the road and sometimes have to pedal near. Note: stay far and wide away from these things when you can.

As I pedaled off, a girl who had been walking by earlier when I was repairing it, saw me on her return walk. As I said "back on the road" to her, she exclaimed "you got it, that's awesome!" providing a morale boost for me.

Once I reached George Bush Park, I found a paved track going all the way around the reservoir there. Taking it part way before finding an exit that would lead through the Northwest subsurbs, two female walkers both smiled wide and said "hi" in an excited way as I passed. Houston girls seem pretty friendly.

At FM-529 (FM is a farm road referred to as FM "farm to market"), I took a break from the 11:30am heat and caught some shade outside Walgreens, the last sign of a city I would experience for the rest of the ride today. Asking a woman coming out of the store "what is the nearest little town down this road?", she responded "Oh no, there is nothing down THAT road, not for a long long way." Encouraged to get more water from Walgreens, I pedaled off around 12:30pm.

FM-529: How I grew to hate you.
The lady was right. There was nothing along this road except farms, longhorn steer, and an occassional industrial business set back far enough from the road it appeared to be less than welcoming. The temp was 92F, high humidity, headwinds 14mph with 27mph gusts. Thoughts of overnighting on the edge of Houston came to mind, but I thought I had better be able to ride in this if I was ever going to get through the desert. After many miles, I found brief shade inside a chain link fence in Brookshireville and I cooled off before continuing.

Crossing the Brazos River, with a fairly high water level, was the reason for only a few route options to Bellville. On occasion there would be an interesting sight like this VW bug graveyard I passed.

Further up and many hard-earned miles later, I saw a ranch driveway lined with trees on each side. Knowing this landscaped entrance offered an opportunity to cool off again, I pulled in and was greeted by two curious mares.

Further up the road at 4pm, I found a Baptist church with a very small shaded canopy entrance. Taking the opportunity to fill the water bottles from the hose laying haphazardly in the grass, I could now continue through the hills that greeted me since entering Austin County (as if the heat, headwinds, etc weren't enough).

By 5:30pm, and only maybe 6 miles from Bellville, I finally saw a small store I had grown accustomed to seeing so frequently each day on this trip. Puzzled by the many pickup trucks parked outside, I parked my bike against a tree and walked in. Greeted by a 2-tooth owner who hassled me with some crack about "dress code", I bet that he was joking, unsure as facial gestures are less defined with only two teeth, and continued walking in. Turns out, in addition to being a neighborhood store, it was also a bar. That explained all the trucks outside. I walked up and sat at the only open stool at the 3-stool bar. The place was occupied by two groups: those with white skin wearing caps and jeans or bibs sitting at the tables, and a two-person group of Mexicans at the bar. After ordering, I started making small talk with one of the Mexican guys next to me. Whatever he said, I repeated his response out loud in Spanish (I do this translation sometimes in my head to keep sharp, but this time it was out loud). He smiled. His English was choppy despite his 15 years living in nearby Sealy working as a mechanico. We began speaking in Spanish. He introduced himself as Jose Luis, and his friend who spoke better English was named Philipe. They could not believe how far I had pedaled so far on the trip and insisted they would buy me whatever drinks I wanted: "When you drink with a Mexican", they said "your drinks are paid for". Generous guys. I stuck with softdrinks knowing I wasn't finished for the day yet. Our conversation was good and covered topics of the frontera (border), safety in Mexico, living illegally in the US, and how people of all races have similar values: "I like beer, you like beer, we are the same", I told them. This whole time, i think the cap and bib wearing faction was not thrilled I made friends with the "wetbacks" as the Mexicans told me this is how they are referred to. A large beast of a man came in dressed similarly to the whiteys in the bar, bought something from the store, and said "Que pasa, amigo?" to Jose Luis but in a stern tone. I thought, "Huh. So some of these guys DO talk with the Mexicans here. How nice." But his poor spanish was abandoned shortly after and he continued to shout at this guy actually making some threats near the end of his rant before leaving. My new Mexican friends were puzzled. Despite the fact Philipe "knows" English, it is like my knowledge of Spanish. If you talk fast enough, I don't know a thing. They both asked me to explain in Spanish. As I was in the process of explaining in Spanish what just happened and why Bubba was so mad, the 2-tooth owner left his chair at one of the tables with his friends and came to the bar "Listen. You fellas have to go. That man isn't happy. I don't want no trouble. He's coming back here, and when he does, there will be trouble if you are still here. You better go or I will call the police, and if you are illegal, you don't want me to call the police." I told the owner they didn't understand what just happened and I was explaining it to them. "You don't need to be involved in this. You go, too. You get on your bike and get out of here." I managed to convince the fellas it was in their best interest to leave and I was leaving, too. In the dirt parking lot outside, there were brief goodbyes. I had at one time thought it might be nice to stay in touch with these guys or at least get a photo, but that opportunity was lost.

The argument:
Bubba's wife was in the bar earlier. I think it was her that was just leaving when I arrived, and maybe why the stool was free at the bar. She had given me the eye on her way out, and I had thought immediately that she was the local tramp. When she went home, she told Bubba what Jose Luis had said to her (sometimes the Mexican approach to women is different than the American approach, especially with limited volcabulary), and that aggravated Bubba. He then came to the store to give the "wetback" a piece of his mind and maybe more. Seeing Jose had a Mexican friend with him, as well as me sitting next to him, I think he chose to leave it at words until seeing him again later. Thus the owner kicked us out.

Note: Mexican-American relations in these rural poorly educated areas of Texas are not good. I saw the disrespect the 2-tooth owner showed to Jose Luis and Philipe when they simply ordered drinks. And after witnessing this incident, though not knowing Jose Luis's words to Bubba's wife, I now understand why the two of them told me "your mind works differently than people here" as we had become friends and they learned that I studied in Mexico and have a sister there married to a Mexican guy.
Hurrying off, I pedaled the remaining distance to the overpriced only-one-in-town Hotel Wayne in Bellville, TX. Upon arrival I was told by a cleaner looking cap & jeans wearing man that he would've run me over in the hills approaching town if I hadn't worn that bright orange reflective safety vest. "It caught the sun just right and I saw you, otherwise with the way the sun was coming down, I woulda hit you". To which the dentally-challenged motel attendent behind the desk said "We call you a Texas speedbump, that's all". I worked all day long to be here???

After checking in, showering, being clearly discouraged by the motel desk attendent from eating at the Mexican restaurant down the street and instead being directed to the local Dairy Queen, I went to Las Lomas Mexican restaurant. "We got enough Mexican restaurants and they're building more like we need another", he said, clearly showing his opinion of the people that originally inhabited this land.

At Las Lomas, I met my waitress, Aremi, a girl originally from Mexico City and who had recently moved from Houston to Bellville to be closer to her job here. Aremi had a great personality and we spoke in both English and Spanish while I enjoyed my meal. I am not likely to be in Bellville anytime soon, but if I am I will stop in at Las Lomas to say hi.

start time: 7:30am
end time: 7:00pm
time on bike: 5:15:47
miles: 67.83
avg speed: 12.89 mph
max speed: 26.95 mph
calories: 4,901
conditions: hot, cloudless sky, 92F, wind from SW 14mph, gusts 27mph, hills began in Austin County.

Beaumont, TX to Houston, TX (30 miles)

2008-05-22T15:08:00.000-07:00

Sunday May 18, 2008

I "slept in" until 7am.
Two reasons: 1) Kevin told me he would give me a boost out of Beaumont on my way to Houston. I like this as I don't have to deal with city traffic that way. 2) Michelle wanted to make breakfast for me and peace-girl.

Kevin showed up with his shy son Blake. Cool little boy who began answering my questions by telling his Dad the answer and telling his Dad to tell me. After a while, and a few friend making names like "cookie face", Blake may not have realized that he was now talking directly to me.

Kevin and Blake gave me a lift along Highway 90 to the Dayton area. I started biking around 11:30am. The shoulder was good the whole way into Houston. My plan: Take Highway 90 until it ended. I stuck to that plan longer than I should've. I found myself on the Freeway riding in the breakdown lane. How it became a freeway all of a sudden, I am not sure, but it did and I was there.

At the 8 Beltway and end of 90 Freeway, my mind was fried. I found a new residential development in it's infancy and sat against a fence in a bit of shade while talking with Audrey. I remember laughing with her and the joking helped bring back the sanity the freeway temporarily took away.

Studying the Houston detail portion of the Texas state map, I found a way toward the center of the city where I was almost sure my friends Rob and Julia Wellner and their son Gus lived. As I approached the 610 Beltway on Wallisville Road, they called and agreed to meet me at a chosen McDonalds.

After I had studied my maps for a while at McDonalds, the Wellner crew arrived wisking me back to their place where I was able to shower, do laundry, catch up with them over dinner, and plan the route out of Houston in the morning.

There was no energy left for updating the blog despite their offer to use their computer. I sometimes need to choose between sleep and blog updates. Up until now, I have been a dedicated blogger, but from now on sleep wins.

start time: 11:30am
end time: 3pm
time on bike: 2:15:14
mileage: 30 miles
avg speed: 11.83 mph
max speed: 19.75 mph
calories: 1,787
conditions: hot, clear, maybe 87F

Kinder, LA to Beaumont, TX (69 miles)

2008-05-22T13:44:00.000-07:00

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Leaving Kinder felt good. Needing breakfast and having no place around the motel, I wanted to make oatmeal (again). Having requested a room with fridge and microwave when I checked in, and too tired to do anything about it when I discovered there was none, I had remembered there was a microwave in the lobby of the motel. I went to the lobby at 6:15am with mixed oatmeal in hand, picked up the phone that rings the late night attendent, and asked "Is it possible to use the microwave in the lobby?" A groggy "No way, buddy" (click) was the response I got. Customer service here isn't what I have gotten used to back home. Resolving to trade a washcloth I used in Basile, LA yesterday for a clean one from the motel, I pedaled on after this incident.

I had made a decision last night not to bother going north to DeRidder, LA to join the ACA route, but instead keep going west since the ACA route dips south eventually. I went as far as DeQuincy before I stopped for a drink and a break.

Man, things were tough today, I thought. I wasn't sure why I felt so overworked given a mostly flat terrain. After chatting with three motorcyclists that had stopped at the same gas station during their weekend pleasure cruise, I bid them farewell with sights on a Burger King down the road as I thought maybe my calorie intake was low, thus the slugishness. As I biked away from the bikers, I seemed to feel and hear every bump the rear tire went over. Looking down, I discovered a low tire. Aha! Maybe it wasn't me afterall, maybe it was the tire that made the last 30 miles such work. I took everything off the bike, flipped it upside down, and disassembled the tire. The bikers now motored off nodding with a look of sympathym as they drove by. A quick and failed inspection of the tire for the cause of the flat, I chose to replace the tube and investigate and patch the old one later. 15 minutes later, Burger King was my mid-day reward for this delay, reaching the home of the flame-broiled whopper much easier now that the tire was fully inflated again.

Not able to stomach the whole whopper this early in the day, I started off again later seeing the cap to one of my handlebar ends was missing and remembering I had seen it loose through the window while eating the Whopper meal. Looks like it was left in DeQuincy. Oh well. A harmless loss.

On the way to Starks, Louisiana road work again caused my mind to spin with thoughts of "maybe I have come far enough" and "I'm not sure I can complete this anyway" and "maybe I should just stop".

In Starks, LA on Highway 12 right before Texas, I met Bob Pitcher, another motorcyclist taking a break at a gas station. Bob and I talked about the nearby carnival comprised of about a dozen drive up trucks that convert to family-safe thrill rides within minutes of arrival. Bob told me it was the local Mayhaw festival. He described the Mayhaw as a tiny apple-like fruit that grows in bogs. Looks like Bob wasn't far off.
http://www.mayhaw.net/fruits.html
He insisted I go in and try the jelly, but I wanted to keep moving forward since I had made arrangements through my frined Robert in Mobile, Alabama to meet his cousin in Mauriceville, TX at 3pm-ish.

Passing such signs as "Frog on a Stick $5", I kept my focus and stayed on my bike pedaling forward to the Lone Star State. Once I crossed the Sabine River, my cellphone coverage came back immediately resembling the mysterious electromagnetic line that is drawn between Tijuana and San Diego back home. Two messages: I had a place to stay in Beaumont, TX courtesy of my friend Tom in San Diego finding a contact for me via http://www.couchsurfing.com/ and two grad school friends, now married, resurfaced in Houston and I could stay with them tomorrow.

Crossing into Texas: Mixed feelings about this one. Maybe not all my ex's live in Texas, but there is certainly one that does and I prefer to keep a two-state insulator between us. And just about any Dallas Cowboy fan I have met in the past certainly didn't give the Texas image a boost either. But the arrival of Texas marks the completion of my fourth state on this eight state tour, so there is reason to be happy (despite the fact it will take me weeks to reach the completion of this state #5).

I arrived at Tuffy's restaurant in Mauriceville, TX before Robert's cousin Kevin, so I just hung out there happy to be off the bike. A group of guys who worked for a local business asked "You biking across Texas?" and were shocked when I told them the answer. Inisisting they wanted me to have a cap with their business name on it, but finding none in their work truck that didn't have a sweatring already created, we just shook hands before Kevin arrived and joined me for chicken fried steak at Tuffy's. Kevin took me from Mauriceville to Beaumont and delivered me to Michelle Cate's house. Michelle is a "host" registered on http://www.couchsurfing.com/. A quick-witted Arkansasian, she offered a place to crash, a hot shower, socializing with her and her friends, and a hot breakfast the next morning. One other couchsurfer named Alix arrived that night as well. Alix is "scoot'n for peace", driving her motorized scooter 20,000-miles over two years on quest to gain one million individual definitions of peace and raising money for 4 different charities. Alix's purpose and her self were a bit ambiguous and unclear to me, and, despite her gripes about how hard the road was on her body, I gave no sympathy to this motorized two-wheeler that was encroaching on my much needed sleep time with her airy talk.

start time: 7:20am
end time: 3:30-4:00pm
time on road: 5:17:20
miles: 68.57
avg speed: 12.96
max speed: 19.77 mph
calories: 4,894
conditions: flat, mid 70's F, overcast, nice

Baton Rouge, LA to Kinder, LA (62 miles)

2008-05-22T11:59:00.000-07:00

Friday May 16, 2008

I had gone to bed with the Weather Channel saying "All is well, Dan. Clear skies ahead". When I woke, the same channel was speaking to me as if we hadn't been friends for the past three weeks. The news: No longer clear. 60% chance of rain. Clear skies to the west (or so they say). Not wanting to lose momentum by staying another luxurious night at the casa of Ron and Lauren despite uncertain skies, I chose to head out as planned.

Ron, Phil, and I left the house at 6am and went to breakfast at Frank's Restaurant - "Home of the best biscuits in the world." After a hearty oatmeal and a biscuit (of course), I headed west with Ron, while Phil headed up to Ron's hunting land to work on a water problem in his trailer there. Ron took me over the Hwy 190 bridge crossing the Mississippi River. He went further and took me over the Achafalaya River (and Mississippi River spillway 7-mile bicycle unfriendly bridge) and started me near Krotz Springs on Hwy 190. This beats coordinating a police escort over the Mississippi River Bridge and maybe hitching a ride over the Achafalaya. Thanks to Ron for that generous boost.

As I was getting started, there was just a little drizzle coming from the sky. Cool and damp, feeling my creaking knees in this weather, I chose against rain gear in hopes it wouldn't amount to much.

Through flat Port Barre and on to Opelousas, home of the Spice Music Festival, not far past Mama's Fried Chicken I met two other clearly geared up long distance cyclists aiming east. Not wanting to pass the chance to chat with them, I crossed traffic and we talked for a while. Oris, age 75 (if I recall correctly) is from Claremont, CA near Los Angeles, and he was traveling with Bob, age 55, from Massachusettes. Each traveling alone, they met a week or so ago and began biking together. The more I was talking with Oris, the more his stories seemed familiar. Turns out I had read part of his blog on http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/, where I have another blog. Oris has trekked across the US 4 times counting this trip and had a lot of good info to share. One item in particular: how to deal with the chasing dogs. Oris advised "Stop on a dime as soon as they start chasing" insisting the dog wants the chase, not the catch. Bob backed him up on this advice as well. Seemed a bit self-sacrificial to me, but their unwavering confidence in the tactic was convincing. Oris and Bob also advised steering south to San Antonio to go around some of the peaks in Texas Hill Country as well as staying on Hwy 90 near Alpine as I headed west to avoid Fort Davis mountains. Glad we talked!

Heading down the road, I stopped in Lawtell only for a drink and snack before reaching Redlich's City Cash store in Basile, Louisiana where I needed the same things in addition to a bathroom break. This was deep in the Cajun country, or is it Acadian? Anyway, hearing a different accent from the girl at the register directing me to the bathrooms at an out-building across the parking lot from the store (da batroom is ova dare), I found myself the victim of what must've been a bathroom-cleaner strike. Only after I did what I needed to do, did I find there was no TP (damn), no handtowels (double damn), and no soap (triple damn). I just started laughing. What else could I do? After finding a solution to each of those issues in my handlebar bag (which I carry with me everywhere when away from the bike), I went back to the store and got a snack and drink and settled into a rocking chair out front to celebrate my wise stash of supplies I had just found so useful moments earlier. In the purple and gold LSU rocking chair next to me was a 36-year old black man named Houston. I saw Houston had biked up on his single speed BMX bike when I was heading into the store. After talking with him, I found out Houston bikes to the store, gets the keys for one of the cars, then takes the car to go wash it, and returns for the next car. "I take care of all their cars here" he said proudly. After learning I was from San Diego, Houston told me about having spent age 17 to 36 in Richmond, California (San Francisco Bay area). He left many friends back there to return home to Basile, Louisiana recently. He would like to go visit one day but he is convinced half of his friends are likely dead. I chose not to ask why, instead easing my way into the request for a photo. After allowing his "picture to be made", he asked me to send him a postcard from San Diego when I get there. Giving me his address (which he got from his wife using the store telephone), he also requested a San Diego t-shirt be sent. Though I am riding a bike and not a sleigh, I took his Christmas wish down. Thanking me, he read me his phone number from a note in his wallet in case I needed to call for anything down the road.

Continuing west on Hwy 190, I went through Elton where I saw many rice dryers along the side of the road. I passed many rice fields, and catfish farms on this stretch of the highway, so a rice dryer seemed logical. In this lowland wet stretch where catfish and rice thrive, I often heard motion in the tall grass just off the shoulder of the highway. Based on the roadkill I had witnessed, the primary candidate were frogs, snakes, or armadillos, and I still don't know what that otter looking creature really was.

From the town of Lauderdale almost until Kinder, the paved shoulder disappeared causing me to recall Mississippi roads, but the grass and gravel shoulders were still passable.

I stayed at the SmartRooms Inn at Kinder on Hwy 165 and 383 for $55. The room was small, clean, but lacked thresholds between the carpet and linoleum. Stepping on the carpet tackstrip twice barefooted, I likely cursed and then created my own threshold with a towel. The place wasn't great, but was half the price of anything else on a Friday night here. The remedy for a bleeding foot is a big meal at the Catfish Hut next door: catfish, crawfish etoufee, sweet potato, hushpuppies, and cheesecake.

starttime: 8:00am (?)
end time: 4:00pm
time on bike: 4:34:05
miles: 61.62
avg spd: 13.49,ph
max spd: 21.72 mph
calories: 4,604
terrain: flat and easy
weather: overcast, 80F, humid, but no winds.

Updates

2008-05-18T20:16:00.000-07:00

Friday May 16, 2008: Baton Rouge, LA to Kinder, LA (62 miles)

Saturday May 17, 2008: Kinder, LA to Beaumont, TX (67 miles)

Sunday May 18, 2008: Beaumont, TX to Houston, TX (30 miles)

Will update this when in Austin.

Also consider going to my other site:

http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/danbikeride

it has photos.

Staying Put in Baton Rouge, LA

2008-05-15T12:55:00.000-07:00

Thursday May 15, 2008

I am resting in Baton Rouge. Ideally, a rest day comes after 3 days. That may seem excessive and may be reduced over time, but it is ideal especially when there is an “energizing station” en route where I have family or friends.

Staying put this time was out of necessity due to weather as well. Shortly after I got off the bike yesterday, and I found out the area is under a Thunderstorm Warning and Tornado Watch. Listening to the rains last night while in bed confirmed it was nothing I wanted to encounter while riding, but gave me flashbacks of the rain I once encountered while living in Alabama, not being able to see past the hood of your own vehicle.

Clear sunny skies right now at 2:15pm. Forecast looks like it should be cloudy tomorrow and clear for a week. Despite having all the comforts of home here, I plan to head off tomorrow AM and keep getting closer to home. Though temptation lurks...

Amite, LA to Baton Rouge, LA (50 miles)

2008-05-15T12:50:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Awake at 5am and glued to the weather channel. Having just found out the storms in Baton Rouge are now due in after noon and morning forecast is simply clouds, I did a little celebration dance while eating nuked pizza and drinking Coke from the night before.

Today would be a focused day of riding without unnecessary stops or chitchats I am afraid. With an Immodium and Phazyme in my belly to chase the pizza and reduce potential stops, I left the hotel at 7:15am. As I was leaving, a little Indian boy, the son of the owners, was sad because he was sick and had to go to school. He stood with his grandma as the bus approached, while his mother explained to me that he wanted ice cream, but she wouldn’t let him because ice cream makes the sickness worse. Recalling huge heaps of ice cream I used to see my Dad serve himself over apple pie my grandma (aka Granny) made, I also recalled my Dad was rarely sick. Not sure there was truth to the ice cream/sickness relationship explained to me, I pedaled off down State Road 16.

Montpelier was the first community I biked through, only waving to a couple fellas hanging out on the loading dock type entrance of the coop.

In Pine Grove, I stopped at the only NAPA store I have ever seen that sells groceries. “We have to.” the lady behind the counter said, “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

At a truck stop in Dennis Mills area, the friendliest thing I encountered despite the multiple employees there, were the Oreos I purchased along with Vitamin water. Too bad unfriendly employees shape my opinion so quickly, but with limited experiences in each community on this trip, each one counts.

Watson is definitely the largest town on Highway 16. Negotiating shoulder room due to road work, I made it through just fine. Resting for a moment on the roadside where a trucker was tying down heavy equipment before heading off, I recovered from the stress that “road work ahead” can mean as a bicyclist. As the trucker started heading off, he threw me a wave. A little further down the road, another man pushing his single speed bike on flat terrain asked me questions about where I was heading having witnessed the packed bike I ride. “You sure must have strong legs” he said. “Stronger everyday”, I replied with a smile knowing Florida was my training ground and I was still in training today in Louisiana.

Following directions provided by the GPS, I crossed the Amite River via busy and virtually shoulderless Greenwell Springs Road, followed by Sherwood Forest Road, where I felt lower back tightness starting to make itself known. Years back, a doctor suggested lower back surgery, and I avoided it with some successful physical therapy. A week before the trip, I had another low back “incident” (yeah, Mom, I never told you about that one). I have the dope I need (along with time I don’t want to take) to fix those issues if they get bad, but I took a timeout to stretch with the bike leaned against a Jack in the Box drive through sign. Committing to a slower easier pace the remaining 7 miles, I made it in record time from Amite, LA to Hilltrace Avenue in Baton Rouge, where I met Phil the father of Lauren’s daughter-in-law, as well as Chester, who I seem to recall is Ron’s brother. 50 miles from Amite, LA to Baton Rouge by 12:15pm and no rain. 15 minutes into a chat with Phil and Chester while we were inside, I was watching rain come down outside! Good timing, I thought.

A quick Subway lunch, followed by heaping plate loads of food at a Country Club buffet at night that Lauren and Ron treated me to, and I think my calorie count was replenished. I can’t say enough about the hospitality of Lauren and Ron. A great place to sleep, do laundry, a stocked fridge, and use of their computer. They are truly two great examples of southern hospitality!

Start: 7:19am
End: 12:15PM
On bike: 3:41:10
Mileage: 50.36
Calories: 3,762
Avg speed: 13.66 mph
Max speed: 25.14 mph
Flat terrain the whole way
Temp: 72-80F, high humidity

Poplarville, MS to Amite, Louisiana (77 Miles)

2008-05-15T12:42:00.000-07:00

Tuesday May 13, 2008

Awake at 5am and started pedaling at 7:15am after saying goodbye to Brad “Bibsy” Haas, the name selected by his choice of bib overalls this morning.

The route out of Poplarville took many turns so mileage was adding up fast as I kept an eye peeled for dogs while following the “treasure map” that would lead me home (eventually). After a run from four dogs so far, the of which the smallest and scrappiest got the closest to me because I overlooked him until last minute, I had found a calm area where I could take a bathroom moment to myself. I only tell you this because I can’t believe it happened, but due to my concern about dogs, I stayed on the bike, did a little move that only men can do, and while watching for both dogs and cars, I managed to take care of business while standing over the bike. With complete focus on potential dogs and cars, I failed to realize I was peeing on my front right pannier. Hysterical. Good thing they are waterproof. With any luck, that is the only rain they will see today.

I was on quiet Holden Road in Pearl River County, Mississippi, when I saw two people out for a walk at 8:30am or so. Seeing no dog threat, I slowed to ask them about weather reports. It was Larry and his wife, originally from the area, but now living in Arkansas. We got to talking and I shared with them info about the ride, the charity, and the website. Larry asked me if I was a Christian and whether I knew if I would go to heaven or hell “if anything happened to me on this ride”. I guess I prefer not to think in those terms, and does anyone really know??? But sensing the right answer was “Heaven” that is what I said. Later revealing he was a missionary at one time and now a pastor, he was pleased with my answer and explained that he would be negligent if he didn’t ask me a question like that knowing we would likely never meet again. As a former salesman, I somehow understood his need to present a 30-second elevator pitch to salvation. After his promise to look up the website, we parted. Nice folks.

By 9:30am I crossed into Louisiana at Bogalusa (popln 13,365). Having crossed the Pearl River with an empty water bottle and a bottom in need of a break, I stopped at Chevron to get a drink and snack. After asking about a Louisiana map to prepare for my departure from the predesignated ACA route for the eventual approach to Baton Rouge, the girl behind the counter got responses to her “You’re not from here?” questions that by her bulged eyes suggested disbelief. That’s right, I’m in Louisiana now. This isn’t Florida anymore. I am a rookie no longer, though the impending mountains many days ahead may in a flash repeal my self-induction into whatever club I feel I belong in right now. Before leaving the station, freakish bugs that fly while potentially procreating were swarming all over me and my bike. My positive interpretation: A fertility blessing. Haha.

Finding a Walgreens and rolling up at the right time to meet an employee on break outside waving and yelling at her 85-year old daddy who was pulling up to the stop light, but looking her way probably with hopes of seeing his daughter at work, I was told I could find a state map right here. I bought a Louisiana state map (along with one for Texas, I mean, why not?) and after a quick glance at the map, a wave to the employee and her daddy who were now talking in the parking lot, I headed for Franklinton along State Road 60, again following many turns to get through town.

After a fairly easy ride out of Bogalusa, I stopped at a Baptist Church at the corner of State Road 60 and State Road 1072, my next path to follow. Hanging out in the shade for a few moments and studying my new purchased map, I cooled off before heading back to the road. Glad to have had a little rest there, I met the consistent rolling hills of State Road 1072 in eastern Louisiana. Up and down, and up and down, and up…. and…. down, seemingly slowing each time, I approached Springhill where my map showed no services. Instead though I found Papa J’s Grocery and a sign for the regionally famous Hunt Brothers Pizza. By the way I was dressed and my unfamiliarity to them, John, Debbie (bro and sis owners), and Debbie’s husband Tom, the only people inside, knew right away I was a cyclist. We talked about the weather and the ride up the hills. Just then John told me to be very careful up the road a few miles just past the airport. He suggested trying to be real quiet on the road as the owner there has 3 mean rottweilers that he doesn’t keep chained up. He told me that recently with another cycling group there was an incident that lead to the cross with bicycle helmet that now sits on the side of the road there. “Oh sh!t”, I thought. I just ran from 6 dogs today, and with these rolling hills, I’m not going to be able to outrun rottweilers. “Really?” I asked with a face full of fear. “Nah”, John said as he bellowed out laughter. The other two followed his lead with laughs and told him how bad he was. Relieved it was a joke, I stayed for a cold Dr. Pepper sold in a glass bottle, some water, and a slice of Hunts Brother’s pizza. After John went home for his siesta, Debbie and Tom helped me with a couple phone calls trying to find lodging. Hearing the only motel in Franklinton less than 10 miles away wanted “only $55 for all night”, I began considering going off route a day early and heading to Amite, LA on my way to Baton Rouge. Before leaving, a cute girl walked in and ordered a half-pound of turkey, sliced thin, from Debbie. As she was waiting, she asked me “Is that your bike out there?”. We talked a bit, and her big brown eyes lit up when I told her I started in Florida and was heading to San Diego. She admitted she couldn’t ever ride that far on a bike. After yesterday’s grueling self-created mindgame through rural Mississippi, I was getting the mental repair I needed with these reactions today. Telling me that “we live right over there” suggesting somewhere behind the wall just outside the store, I think she is one of those nice small town girls that will likely never leave home.

Heading into Franklinton there were a few more hills. A short stop for water and a bathroom at the junction of State Road 1072 and State Road 16 lead me to meeting a station attendant that looked a bit like Brundlefly in the late stages of metamorphism (from the movie, The Fly). He watched an old western on the black and white TV, agreeing “that can’t be good” when on the program men with handkerchiefs over their mouths pointing guns walked into the room, I smiled a little and headed off. He hardly seemed to notice.

Franklinton would wait for another day I thought. I was feeling strong and felt I could power through to Amite (pronounced Ay-meet) down State Highway 16. Encountering the same hills I met on Highway 1072, I just kept plugging away on the wide shoulder of the road and was making progress. Partway there, at a drink refill station, more fuel was added for the mental engine as the people there were amazed I had started in Florida. As I am off the ACA route, amazement seemed to increase as they likely see fewer cyclists come through.

After many, many hills that Tom in Springhill told me he thought were gradual (50% right), I made it into Amite and found the Colonial Inn. For $45, I got a room with two beds, a fridge, a microwave, shower, and access to laundry facilities. With a call to Dominos and more money than I have ever spent ordering pizza for one person, I got some food in me, prepped for the next day, and watched the weather as storms were due to move in. The way it looked, 30% chance of rain by 9am increasing by 10% each hour after that. I had better get started early for the 50 miles to the doorway of Lauren Teague and her husband Ron Phillips in Baton Rouge. If all was flat and no rain, I could leave at 7am and be there by noon. But maybe I would meet more hills?! That’s tomorrow’s problem.

Start time: 7:17am
End time: 5:00pm
On bike: 5:14:25
Miles: 71.42+6=77.42
Cals=5386+400=5786
Avg speed 13.63mps
Max speed 30.57 mph

Suwanee Democrat Newspaper Article

2008-05-15T12:39:00.000-07:00

Date: May 1, 2008
Folder: Vanessa's Folder
Tag:
Cyclist Goes Cross County
Cyclist peddles message across nation

Dan Altenburg wants people to know how
precious - and rare - clean water is in some parts of
the world
Vanessa
Fultz
vanessa.fultz@gaflnews.com

Dan Altenburg, of San Diego, is pedaling a message
while traversing the country on his bicycle. He's raising
awareness of - and funds for - Charity: Water, an
organization that provides clean drinking water to
residents of developing nations.

Altenburg started in St.
Augustine on April 25. He'll bike about 50 miles a day
until he reaches San Diego, 2,300 miles from his
starting point. Altenburg's longest bike ride before
embarking on his current trip was just 62 miles.

Altenburg,
36, cycled into Suwannee County April 29 and camped at
the Suwannee River State Park for the night. His bike
was loaded down with 50 pounds of gear and various
supplies when he pedaled into the park.

"I like a little organization in my life," he said of matching
satchels strapped to his bike.
One bag held tools and spare
parts in the event of a breakdown. Another bag held a
cook stove, a kettle and food rations. Another bag
housed a tent, sleeping bag and a mat. Another bag held
some clothes.
"The gear itself is about 50 pounds,"
Altenburg said. "It would be a whole lot easier doing
this without it."

Altenburg travels alone, with no one to
help carry his gear or set up camp.
"One of the most
difficult tasks in preparing for an event like this is
planning a route, knowing where you can stay, knowing
where the bike repair shops are, all that stuff," he
said.

Altenburg is following a map provided by
Adventure Cycling Association, a group which promotes travel
by cycle. The map lists parks and hotels, the nearest
bike shops and the distance from one location to
another.

Altenburg learned about Charity: Water from a
friend who climbed Mount Kilimanjaro to benefit
residents of southern Africa through a program created by the
organization.

Altenburg's efforts will benefit the
people of Uganda.
Altenburg's goal is to raise $23,780
-- $10 per mile of the trip. That sum will provide
clean water for 2,500 people in need and construct four
clean-water systems in Uganda.

"Mothers are facing
decisions with what to do -- do they let their child die of
thirst or do they give them what they know is not
healthy water," he said. "They're filling glasses with
brown water that you and I would never drink."

Altenburg
said supporting the organization has made him realize
how those of us in developed nations sometimes take
our natural resources for granted.

"We even use our
drinking water for our grass and our lawns," he said.
"The average American uses about 150 gallons a day,
whereas people in the countries we're talking about are
lucky if they can find five gallons for them and their
family."

Altenburg quit his job as a salesman two years
ago to do "something different," as he described it.
First he went to Mexico and studied Spanish. Then he
left for Europe.

"Before heading back to work I wanted
to do something here in the U.S. and I wanted it to
benefit some organization that could really use the
money," he said.

In Gainesville Altenburg met another
cyclist named Frank. Frank asked Altenburg why he was
making the trip.
"I said to him I knew when I was working
as much as I was there had to be something more ...
that I needed at this time in my life to step aside and
find it and enjoy it because timing is everything and
I may not get this opportunity again," he said.
"Frank's eyes lit up and he said, 'Most people don't
recognize that until they're my age -- 65.'"

For more
information about Altenburg visit
http://danbikeride.blogspot.com.

To learn more about
Charity: Water visit
http://www.charitywater.org/getinvolved/promos/dan_altenburg.
#1
Dan
Altenburg, of San Diego, peddles into the Suwannee
River State Park April 29 after riding about 50 miles on
his bicycle. Altenburg is traveling cross-country to
raise awareness of, and money for, Charity: Water, a
group that provides clean drinking water to third world
countries. - Photo: Vanessa Fultz

Mobile, AL to Poplarville, MS ("56 miles")

2008-05-14T19:13:00.000-07:00

Monday May 12, 2008

I got caught up last night in watching a TV special about the Iditarod in Alaska. That meant fewer hours asleep like I should've been. I got up at 4:30am because Robert and I had a crafty plan. I liked spending time in Mobile, and each day that I spent here I knew would have to be repaid in the heat of the desert. So Robert decided to make it up to me by means of a "power boost". The power boost is a lift out of town equivalent to one days riding distance. That way I never actually stayed in Mobile last night (wink wink), and am still "on schedule".

It was a good thing he did that because eastern rural Mississippi along the designated route is a serious sleeper. It is pretty and I saw deer on the road the moment I hit the trail, but unless you have serious things in your life that requires absolute isolation to solve, and no need for any services (no store to buy drinks or snacks, no restrooms, etc, there could be better places to ride.

Luckily for me, a couple hours and some internal review time into the ride, I met the first of 16 long distance cyclists heading east. The first was this amazingly fit guy from Holland. He stopped to talk, but I could see by his eyes watching another pass him that he didn't like being behind anyone. The info I got from him included the fact they were the Adventure Cycling Association (ACA) group (the same people I got the maps from, but these folks also signed up and forked over $3K I think to do the ride with a "guide" from the ACA). After cutting him loose and returning him to the stream of bikers, I met another, Herb from Sacramento. He snapped a photo of me as I snapped one of him, both amused at the ridiculous feat the other decided to try I guess. Near the end of the group was who I suspected was the guide from the ACA, advising me of a closed ferry in St. Francisville, LA, advising an alternate route through Baton Rouge and a police escort across Highway 190 bridge that crosses the Mississippi River there, as well as water quantities to carry in the desert, and prescribed night riding to avoid the heat. Look at that! Just as I was wondering what I was doing in rural Mississippi the first day after a rest period, these guys gave me a boost in morale, if even temporarily.

I knew they couldn't solve my other problem though. I was starting to get low on drinks and, related to that (kind of), would smile if I saw a bathroom. Hours later, west opf Perkinston, MS, these issues needed to be solved. I turned down a side road because the map showed a camp of some kind located down there. Thinking I would just try to fill my bottles with tap water from the outside spigot, use a bathroom, and politely exit, instead I was surprised to meet the gem of the day. At Rogers Lake campground (http://www.rogerslakesilverrun.info/), a really beautiful place with many lakes surrounding it, I met Nella Ruth Rogers. She was as sweet as the day is long. At 82, she ran this housing development project with the help of two of her four children. She had lost her husband, Rayford, in 1985, and had seen some trouble since: breast cancer, appendectomy, and cataracts. Instead of just laying down, she told me that the secret to life is having something to do each day, a reason to get up in the morning. Based on the maps she had layed out and her ease of discussing the installation of sanitary sewer systems prior to selling lots, I could hardly believe she had time for the exercise program she told me she watches on TV between 6:00 and 6:30am each day. "I take exercise, you know. Low impact." she said. Having finished the ice cold Coke she offered me and swapping stories as if we were old friends, she gave me a hug and invited me back to the campground that is only open to those who have purchsed property there, and long distance cyclists. Just about to leave, I took her up on her offer to fill my bottles with the filtered water from inside the house, before leaving her to make bread with the wheat she just ground up. Where was I?

Glad to have visited with her, I paid the price. It was now 12:15pm and the sun was blaring down. I took advantage of a seemingly deserted Volunteer Fire Department picnic shelter I found on the way to Poplarville, MS to cool off and have a snack and some tasty filtered water.

In Poplarville, MS (popln 2,600), a local told me the only lodging was a campground (besides the $75 B&B even he was surprised to find out existed). On the way to camp, I ate a seriously large shrimp po-boy at O'Neals Restaurant where the shy, pleasant, but straight-tooth-challenged Katy was my server.

At the Haas-Ciendas RV Resort, I paid $10 to set up my tent and got full electricity to charge my electronics, hot shower, kitchen access, and best of all, access to their swimming pool. Brad, the owner, was found in the pool when I arrived, and reminded me of a Sopranos character, smaller than Big Bobby but much bigger than Tony. He told me he was from Ohio and New York, but I think it was more one than the other. He and Colleen, the self-proclaimed "coon ass" (which means Cajun she tells me,were in the pool discussing religion as well as New Orlean's Mayor Nagin's "chocolate city" comments of late. A born again Christian, but considerably judgemental based on what I had been hearing, she pulled me into the religion conversation, and not ready for that topic, I threw a curve ball.

Her: "You know God will reveal himself to some but they are not ready."
Me: You know, they say aliens exist and will be reveal themselves to us as well, but they haven't yet because we are not ready."

After a quick can of soup topper to my recent Po-Boy sandwich, I hit the sack.

start: 7:00am pedal hit road
end: 4:15pm
time on bike: 4:23:08
miles: "56.3"
calories: 4098
max elevation on trip so far: 330' (small time, but growing)

Chillin' in Mobile, Alabama

2008-05-10T12:05:00.000-07:00

Friday May 9, 2008 through Sunday May 11, 2008 I am stayin' put in Mobile, Alabama. Yeah, that's right, it's not hot enough out there yet. i thought I would let the oven preheat before baking my body for the next 6-8 hour ride.

In the meantime, Friday night I met up with Jackie, an old friend, at the Bucanneer Yacht Club for a crawfish and beer party benefiting the sialing team at University of South Alabama. It was good hanging out with her and others after a day of errands (new riding shorts with what is supposed to be irritationless stitching, as well as a grocery run to WalMart supercenter).

Also met new people from Bay St. Louis in Mississippi, the target of Hurricane Katrina's wrath in the recent past. Hearing about how people have rebuilt there was encouraging news. We even took a moment to teach these nice folks about the drinking game "flip cup" as the University of South Alabama students were outside playing the game.

Saturday has been a lazy day, as I got out of bed at Noon while Robert and his wife Rene went to the beach. I thought better of it as I will be seeing enough sun in the days ahead. Tonight I will be going to a couple block parties in Mobile.

More later...

Pensacola, FL to Fairhope, Alabama (50 miles)

2008-05-09T13:39:00.000-07:00

Thursday May 8, 2008: Ride #11

Rising at 4:30am, I got my things together and Ashley inistsed on taking me to the west side of Pensacola. He assured me on the ride I would see why. He was right. The roads were under construction and the shoulders were non-existent. It would've been a brutal start to the day, especially when it was already 80% humidity when we left his house at 6:00am.

Starting near the Perido Bridge in Pensacola, I said goodbye to my friend Ashley and headed out. Not bad for several miles as the winds were light, but the forecasts said they would be increasing to 20-25mph by noon.

I crossed into Alabama at 7:55am. Just as I figured I was close, I began to look for some familiar places or the Alabama sign. I recognized the FloraBama bar and knew I was atop the state line. The welcome to Alabama sign was covered by a "Motorcycle Parking" sign right across from the famous FloraBama bar which sits on the beach exactly on the Florida/Alabama border, but from the right angle I got the photo that I deserved after completing Florida.

Riding into Alabama was exciting since I lived on the gulf coast in Mobile for a couple years and this area was our playground. Even people who do not live near here may have heard of the FloraBama bar since it is the topic of a few Jimmy Buffet songs, and home of the Interstate Mullet Toss, which took place April 26th this year, so I just missed it. Read about it here:
http://www.florabama.com/Special%20Events/Mullet%20Toss/mullet_toss_faq.htm

Facing some increased winds as I was heading due west, I pedaled on. A few miles up, I knew I needed a better look at the beautiful white sand beaches I remembered, so I went to the beach side of the road and crossed into a preserved park area and took a shot of the bike near the sand.

Many a cold beer had been drank on this beach at one time in my past, as well as hearing stories of how my friend Chris' buddy Tab, an oversize guy at the time, wore his regular swimming trunks into the water and emerged with only skin-exposing tiny speedos on. Or oggling at the Alabama girls with their bronze skin and tiny bikinis. Still remembering some of their names, I pedaled on, but being here again felt great!

Orange Beach, Alabama is the name of the first community you reach heading west into Alabama. It is comprised of many a sea-side rental and vacation house, and plenty of hurricane-risk-taking hotels and condos.

Just past Orange Beach, I reached Gulf Shores with more of the same good memories. The winds were getting to be pretty strong, but the desire to see what memories existed up ahead kept me pushing harder. Once I reached Alabama Highway 59, I went north crossing the Intercoastal Waterway. After battling the wind while biking west and climbing a bit up the Intercoastal Waterway bridge, I thought I earned the reward of a photo from there.

Continuing by resisting further photo distractions, I made amazing time into Foley as the winds were coming from the southwest. I raced into Foley, stopping there to refill on drinks once I was near Highway 98.

Heading west on Highway 98 I again faced the brutal and pace-killing winds. Fortunately I had adjusted my seat and handlebars days ago to what seemed the most comfortable positions, and I just hunkered down for a while, dropping gears as needed due to the wind. At Magnolia Springs, I saw a gas station/foor store that would've seemed odd had I not began this trip almost 2 weeks ago. There I got off the bike, and at near 90-degree and 80% humidity conditions, just sat with my back against the wall of the store for a while, just staring at the blue gas pumps and canopy, and watching the nearby tree braches get tossed in the wind and the clouds flying by. I needed this relaxation station more than a drink refill, but to thank the store owner for being there, I went in and bought yet another Powerade.

At the Scenic 98/ Highway 98 split, I stopped again due to the work required to battle today's winds. I went into the Shell store and as I bought a snack and drink, I heard the register attendent tell me about how she was raising a girl and afraid one day, if she allows her to hang out with the wrong type, she will come home with a tattoo and a belly button piercing. Um, considering where I live and how it is almost impossible to find a girl without those features, I wasn't able to generate any sincere sympathy.

Heading on Scenic 98, the rewards to the effort today became apparent. In Point Clear, some of the most beautiful southern beach houses are found. Seriously gorgeous places. Biking further north with little effort as the winds were shielded by trees, I reached my old residence in Fairhope at 210 Mobile Street. I pulled in laughing out loud that I reached this place on a bike I began pedalling from the Atlantic Ocean. I remembered riding a bike from Fairhope to Point Clear and back when I had lived here and thinking I got a good workout. For old times sake I trespassed and took a few photos from the dock where I remembered reading Moby Dick on a Sunday afternoon years ago.

Knowing I was near my destination for the day, I punched into my GPS the address of Stephen & Renee Davis. 1.2 miles to go! Whoo hoo. Stephen & Renee were once the neighbors of a University of Alabama buddy of mine, Chris, and his wife Amy. Although Stephen & Renee had moved since I lived here, I had contacted them with my plans to come visit after an 8 year hiatus. A few good rolling hills later, I arrived at Mile 583 of the trip, at Stephen & Renee's house, drenched in the humidity-produced sweat, and like clockwork Stephen opened the front door with a big welcoming smile and a loaned fresh t-shirt. A quick shower, some tales of the road, lunch with a long lost friend Carl Williams, and it was obvious I had forgotten how much I liked these folks. That fact became more clear once Renee came home, their kids ran around the house, and my buddy Robert arrived to meet me and take me back to his house where I would rest, drink beer like years ago, and eat crawfish and oysters for the weekend.

Stephen & Renee have their gorgeous 2,500-sf house for sale. Although Renee's look vetoed the deal Stephen & I had quickly made upon my arrival: his house for my bike and the ability to ride the country for 2 months, I could imagine living here again. I simply think differently than I did 8 or 10 years ago when I lived here before. I see now more than ever how the town of Fairhope is an Alabama jewel complimented by the great friends I have made.

start time: 7:22am
end time: 2:00pm-ish
time on bike: 3:46:47
miles: 49.55
avg speed: 13.11
max speed: 32.88
temp/conditions: 87 degrees, 80% humidity, strong winds from SW at up to 20 mph
calories: 3,640

Crestview, FL to Pensacola, FL (48 miles)

2008-05-07T16:03:00.000-07:00

Wednesday May 7, 2007: Ride #10

Left Crestview at 6:51am. I was up by 5am and took time to get everything back in place in my bags and relax before heading out. Ate breakfast in the room and then split.

Not an hour on the road, I came to the town of Holt and Bowman's gas station. This place was a classic and I had no idea when I rolled up. As Ed Hobbs, the first guy to talk to me, put it: "If you don't get the newspaper, you come here. All the town's news can be heard right here." Once she saw us talking, the 24-hour gas station/bait shop attendant on a smoke break outside said to me "I see you met our local target practice" laughing as she referred to Ed and his bicycle.

Ed is a 62 year old man from Mississppi. College educated and retired, he buys bikes at flea markets and sees if he can fix them up. Today he had parked outside Bowman's his favorite of the three bikes he owns. It is turquoise blue and with the easy-rider look to it I understand why he insists it has the feel of a recumbant bike in an upright form factor. With an occasional EAA-Oshkosh sticker he had affixed to his bike, it was a beauty. He shared a tip: to keep his butt from sweating, he wraps plastic grocery bags over the seat. He also has a shoulder rocket launcher canister strapped to the rack on the back in which he keeps his tools, airpump, etc. With wire racks on the back, and 5 America Online CD's stacked at the front handlebars to act as a reflector, this rig was a classic. I was as amazed at his ride as he was at mine, marveling at my disc brakes, spoke holder, etc.

Ed tells me he is training for a longer distance ride on the Natchez Trace in Tennessee. At 62, he rides 20 miles each Sunday, though this last weekend he rode "two marathons" (as he put it): 27 miles out and 27 miles back, just to see if he could do it.

Ed shared with me that he wants to build a house out of those huge steel shipping containers you see on ships and trains sometimes. He has purchased two at $2,000 each. "Real nice ones, hardly any dents." He has a couple acres and intends to build a home there with these containers, insulating it, etc. He also wants to be free of all utilities by relying on solar power, etc. Amazing dreams shared so freely with just some San Diego guy like me riding by.

He said he gets by on about $5,500 a year, partly because he only rides his bike everywhere. A bicycle enthusiast and unaffected by gas prices, he hopes that the rising price of gas causes America to find another direction than petroleum. I hadn't thought I would be gathering opinions about gas prices from Americans along this ride, but it seems like it stems from any biking conversation, and appropriate for Presidential candidates. I wonder if I would get a large vote with a hand-shaking baby-kissing effort like that.

As Ed Hobbs was heading off with his orange safety vest tied on but no helmet, I met Hugh Adams who said "I heard you say you were from San Diego". Yessir, I said, almost feeling proud of my attempt to slide in to my surroundings. Hugh was proud to share with me that he spent one year studying in San diego at the Navy Prep school (later moved to Pensacola) to dodge the draft for the Korean conflict. After asking me what was left of Navy buildings here and there, I pedaled on down Highway 90.

Back on Highway 90, a road crew seemed to mock me with their SLOW signs. As I snapped the photo, the other crew members started laughing, seeing my loaded bike and knowing why I had pulled the camera out.

East of Milton, along Highway 90, I picked up the original State Road SR1 originally opened in 1921. It was a mishmash of brick, concrete, soft sand, and multiple asphalt patches put in place over the years, but it felt historic being on it. Before I even got on the path, I was just riding parallel to it on the shoulder of Highway 90 going west, and I heard a shout from someone on the path clear as a bell "Way to go, son. Keep pedaling!!!" Realizing that was for me, the sudden and temporary quickening of my pedaling took place. I shouted "thanks, man" as I rode on but never saw the face from where the encouragement came.

In Milton, I met a couple motorcyclists as I pulled into a BP station. Mary and Dennis had two very nice motorcycles parked in the shade as they were preparing to get back on and head off. Dennis flat out laughed at me when I responded "San Diego" to his inquiry as to where I was heading. "On that thing?" he said, as if I was riding the bike Ed Hobbs in Holt had. After a few more questions for me, I think they saw I was for real and both congratulated me on the quest, and rode off on their motorized and also GPS-enabled versions of what I was riding.

After a one-hour stop at the Milton library to update the blog, I got started again toward Pensacola. Foolish mistake. The wind had picked up, with headwinds at 10-20 mph. Getting out of Milton wasn't easy with the traffic I was convinced had no respect for bikes despite the "share the roadway" signs I think only I was seeing. Once to the bay, the shoulder deteriorated periodically, but knowing I was only a few miles now from my evening destination, I kept pedaling wth my face in the wind. Up on over the bridge over Escambia Bay followed by some nice rollers on Scenic Highway 90, and finally into residential sideroads where I will stay tonight with my friend Ashley Patrick and his wife. I hadn't seen Ashley in over 8 years when I worked with him in Mobile. Laughs have started already.

Bonifay, FL to Crestview, Fl (56 miles)

2008-05-07T10:01:00.000-07:00

Tuesday May 6, 2008: Ride #9

I was up between 5:30am and 6:00am. Clothes that I washed in the sink the night before were dry for the most part. Tried to get breakfast from the restaurant next door, but get this...
as I walked up, a girl with an apron was dropped off by a pickup truck, later found to be "Kevin". She stood outside the door, and I asked when do you open? She told me they were supposed to open now, but ever since Kevin went to bike week in Panama City last weekend he can't find his key to open up, and Steve, the other guy with a key, doesn't get up until noon. She pointed to a neighboring motel room with a Harley parked next to it and told me "that's Steve's place right there." Smirking at the situation since this is not how business where I am from gets done, I asked "how long before Kevin is back?" She responded "I don't know. I am not sure where he lives. I guess it would be the amount of time needed for him to drive home, find the key, and drive back." Gee, I should've thought of that. She added "But I am still getting paid right now because I'm here on time." Hysterical. I went back to the room and made oatmeal, but I noticed when I started pedaling at 7:15am that Kevin must've found the key or Steve woke up early because the restaurant was open.

As I biked out of Bonifay, I crossed the Chocktawhatchee River.

A little further I met Franz and Jan from Holland biking east on Highway 90. We met in a rolling hill area. They took holiday to bike in the US. They started in Phoenix and once they reach St. Augustine they intend to head north along the Atlantic. They travel 60 miles a day and stay in motels mostly. They told me they never thought they would see someone heading west so late toward summer. Yeah. I had heard that before, and thought of it myself. I am definitely late. If I make it, well then the success will be more significant. If I don't, then timing of a trip like this should be the first lesson to takeaway. After my new Holland friends to go visit Vernus at Ichetucknee Springs, we parted.

Rolling hills ahead and flat roads behind after I met those two. I have been following Highway 90 yesterday and today, with more to come. Defuniak Springs, FL was the treasure on the route so far. A super cute, very charming town complete with restored train station, bandshell, nicely restored homes, with a beautiful park surrounding Lake Defiuniak. Defuniak Springs was significant for me because it meant I had completed 1 of the 7 maps that detail the Southern Tier route I am following. That means I have 6 to go. I get a boost from things like crossing a time zone, completing a map, or finishing a State (soon). It seems I look for motivation just about anywhere since already this trip has gotten it's lonely stretches, maybe due to the fact the finish is just so far off.

So how is the bike seat? Well, it is breaking in... slowly.
After talking with Audrey last night, she recommended using excessive amounts of powder to "keep things dry down there". Having only Gold Bond Extra Medicated Powder, I used what I had. Pedaling around Lake Defuniak, I swear my butt was on fire for a few moments. I knew the rage of Gold Bond would subside in a few minutes, and after that, it felt oddly refreshing.

It was only 10:30am when I left Defuniak Springs. Too early for lunch I thought. I wanted to be done with today's ride before eating. Maybe I could make it to the town of Mossy Head before I got lunch? After 10 or so miles of Highway 90 and reaching Mossy Head (named by the railroad folks I am told), a woman at the gas station told me she saw 10 cyclists come through on Monday heading west. Hmmm... I am not far behind. I left Mossy Head at 12:15pm or so, still not having taken lunch, and made it to my destination, Crestview (popln 15,000 I think). At a Tom Thumb gas station just inside town, I was calling motels when a woman named Sally who was using the payphone began talking with me. She took interest in the ride and said she was impressed with what I was attempting. We talked about the charity, gas prices, etc. After telling her I would not complain about gas prices since I now have this experience of self-propelled transportation, she told me a story.

She lived between Mossy Head and Crestview in a 12-yr old home she bought new. The house is about 1/4 mile from the railroad tracks. She can tell when the train is loaded down, mostly around holiday time in the past, because the house shakes. But these days, the house shakes all the time as the train passes and it is likely due to additional weight being carried that trucks might otherwise have carted across the nation. Interesting perspective related to high gas prices!

In Crestview, on my way to the chosen motel, I stopped at CVS and got some non-medicated, simply soothing baby powder. Checking into the Crestview Inn on Highway 90, the Indian woman told me it was nothing fancy, but clean. Asking for a room with a refirgerator, she put me in Unit 103 right next to her place since it was the only one with a refrigerator. It was only $42, but it beat the place in Bonifay by a long shot, and was nice. After dragging myself off the bed and getting in a shower, I went to McDonalds at 3:30pm. By 6:30pm, I walked across the street to Coach-n-Four, a restaurant Sally recommended for the best steak in town. Totally right (as far as I know, since I only had this one steak in town). But it was seriously tasty, and would provide a good catalyst for some good rest tonight.

start time: 7:13am
end time: 2:15pm
ride time: 4:15:17
miles: 55.78
avg speed: 13.11 mph
max speed: 30.90 mph
calories: 4222
elevation: rolling up to around 268 feet

Chattahoochee, FL to Bonifay, FL (54 miles)

2008-05-05T13:10:00.000-07:00

Monday May 5, 2008 Ride #8

Last night the winds picked up. I didn't sleep real well, and the geese were honking pretty early as well. That KFC or whatever caused the upset stomach continued to plague me throughout the night. I am thinking I may have been dehydrated as well since I managed to put 32 oz of Powerade down through the night.

I woke up to Mr. Goose walking past my tent door. He seems protective of my campsite since I fed him some pasta yesterday. A different kind of HONK comes from him when he thinks other geese are coming over to be my friend, too.

I got started a little later than planned thanks to my cell phone (which I use as an alarm clock) switching over to a Central Time Zone tower from an Eastern Time Zone tower in the middle of the night. But when I told camp neighbor Phil, "I shoulda been gone by now", he responded correctly "Look, last night you told me you are an ordinary Joe doing this ride. You probably needed the sleep." And he was right. 30 minutes late was not going to upset the day.

After eating 3 packets of oatmeal (vs a usual 2 packet start) I got on the road. The worst part was climbing out of the campground. It is a nice way to ride IN to the campground, but a horrible task to ride OUT. Nevertheless, I managed to get up the hill well and across the Apalachicola River I went. Roads seemed manageable today, rolling hills, but I am getting used to them. Weather was partly cloudy, but mostly clear and a nice headwind that wasn't too strong, but just cooling. Not bad.

Following US Highway 90 west, I first hit Sneads and the Grand Ridge. Of course, my thoughts went to Mel Brookes Blazing Saddles town of Rock Ridge ("someone go back and get a sh!tload of dimes"). A little past Grand Ridge, where I was supposed to follow County Road 164A, but elected to stay on 90, a dog tore out from the bushes near a house and headed straight for me. I was just thinking that on lesser traveled county roads I could probably have some music on while I pedaled. Music in this case could've cost me precious seconds of reaction time. I heard the bushes parting as he tore through, and no matter what is causing that, I want to get away from it. So I picked up speed. Soon this dog is running at his fullest speed next to the bike and I am making shouting sounds at him that I don't often make. After three of these shrieks at him, and an increased pace he fell back. Phew! After my heart rate slowed, I got back to my peaceful morning ride.

After the dog terror, I found Marianna, the largest of the day with population of 6,230, followed by Cottondale. I ate lunch in Cottondale after having logged 35 miles or so. I ate at Braxton's Oyster Bar & Grill. Their slogan "we can shuck 'em faster than you can eat 'em because you can't eat 'em 'til we shuck 'em". Maybe it was because I wasn't wearing a John Deere cap like the others, but it took a while to get served and makes me doubt any fast shuckin' had I chosen oysters instead of the burger.

I saw another cyclist in Cottondale, but it was through the oyster-shuckin' window of the restaurant, and the cyclist was actually pointed out to me by a John Deere cap wearing customer as if all cyclists knew eachother. They looked to be heading East as everyone has so far. Maybe that means I am keeping good time and no one is passing me going west, or maybe it simply means no one would think of going west this late in the year as the asphalt begins to sizzle.

I rode into the town of Chipley, and found the public library where I have updated the online journals or blogs.

After I left the Chipley library, I climbed back on the bike and headed to Bonifay. Just as the day started with a dog tearing after me, it would end in a similar way. With only 3 more miles to go, a white sheep dog-looking dog came out after me. I let out a tremendous shout at him and he stopped his approach. Either that oir he reached the property line of which he is so protective.

I stayed at the Economy Lodge in Bonifay. Not a great place. Although there was a pool and the water was clear, there was so much junk stacked in the pool area that it was clear no one uses the pool. A rat was also seen walking among the junk stacked there. No pool time for me.
After a shower and doing some laundry in a sink, I walked to the restaurant next door (despite the rat proximity), and got some dinner. After buying a few drinks for tomorrow I hit the sack.

start time: 8:48am Eastern, 7:48am Central
end time: 5:00pm Central
time on bike: 4:18:21
miles: 54.11
avg speed: 12.57 mph
max speed: 35.70 mph
calories: 3918

Crawfordville, FL to Chattahoochee, FL (62 miles)

2008-05-05T12:33:00.000-07:00

Sunday, May 4, 2008

I spent a couple days with my Aunt and Uncle in Crawfordville, FL. After meals comprised of steak, hamburgers, biscuits and gravy, etc I was well fed and well rested, and felt strong getting started pedaling toward Chattahoochee today. Before I left Crawfordville, we did a little tour of the area on Saturday. The tour included the town of Sopchoppy. I was sad that I missed the Worm Gruntin' Festival in Sopchoppy. But that doesn't mean you have to...
http://jc-research.com/jim/img-fla/people-events/slides/worm-grunting-folks.html
and
http://www.wakullacounty.org/worm_festival.htm

OK, back to the ride. Hwy 267 was great heading north, then combined with Highway 20 for a bit before parting ways again. Where it ran with Highway 20, I sdtopped in to a small gas station in the middle of nowhere. The plan was to stretch my back on one of the picnic tables next to the station and grab a drink. As I emerged from the station, the police were rolling into ther parking lot. Behind them, a group of 10 or so bicyclists. After talking with one of them, I found out it was a Policeman Memorial bike ride from Panama City to Tallahassee. The riders will then get up to Virginia Beach to ride up to DC and that group is expected to be about 1,000. Impressive. A nice group, and I wish I had a photo, but I don't. Oddly enough though, one female rider recognized me from the restaurant in Monticello. "You broke a chair at Sage in Monticello", she said. I laughed. Who knew I would ever see someone from that restaurant again???

So, on up Highway 267 North. The hills started rolling. This was not a flat part, and one of the police cyclists had told me the views at Chattahoochee are great, but you pay a price to get there by bike. That price was some left Quad pain again.

In Quincy (popln 6,982), I stopped at Walgreens and bought a knee brace. The theory was that compression would keep the knee functional. What happens after the brace is removed? We would see. At Walgreens I talked with Gerald, a young man from Fort Lauderdale who had been with Walgreens for 10 years and moved to Quincy to help his mother who lived in the area. Gerald was a nice fella and interested in the charity angle of the ride. I told Gerald I would mention him in the blog.

After Walgreens I ate at KFC right next door. Not sure that was a smart move since my belly was upset later that night. Maybe biking in 88-degree+ temperatures and greasy chicken (sorry, Colonel) isn't the combination for success. Regardless, it was tasty.

After Quincy, I ran into the town of Gretna (popln 1,709) along County Road 268. I met a trio of donkeys (I think they were donkeys) in a field between Gretna and Quincy. They seemed as curious as most people as to why that white boy was carrying so much stuff on his bicycle and riding on such a warm day. Gretna had some interesting building like this Baptist church, though I made no stops since my bottles were topped up on fluids.

As I came closer to Chattahoochee, the roads were rolling again. Once I finally made it to Chattahoochee, I made a wrong turn, but was advised by a nice man who wished me a safe trip before he drove off in his Buick LeSabre. Knowing tonight was a camping night, I stopped at the grocery store where there almost seemed to be a town meeting going on. A group of customers and checkers were discussing the price of gas, the US borrowing money from other countries, and how they are barely able to get by with the rising price of groceries. I stayed out of the discussion, but I have heard similar versions throughout Florida.

Armed with pasta, spaghetti sauce, and some Powerade (I am tiring of Powerade), my next task was to find the campground. I knew I was close and so decided to turn down a sideroad as the camp was located on the Eastbank of the Seminole River. There I met T.J. and Thomas, two young guys on their bikes just riding around in the shade outside T.J.'s house. I asked about the campground, and T.J. asked "you want me to show you?" Um, sure! So the three of us rode toward the campground and T.J. took my photo at the Georgia state line.

At the campground I met Russell Day, the campground attendent. Russel has worked for thr Army Corps of Engineers for years, having last been stationed at Coffeeville, Alabama with his wife. Russell stated that he left two things in Coffeeville: Highway 84 and his footprints and he doesn't intend to go back for either one. After checking me into a lakefront campsite meant for RVs, he came to check on me, finding my little bike resting against the picnic table while enormous RVs were parked at the sites adjacent to mine. I liked the fact it was so different.

I met others there at the campground: Phil, a Fort Meyers fella who took great interest in the ride, as well as true southerners Herbert & his wife next to my site, and a retired man and his wife from Racine, Wisconsin. Of the three groups, I enjoyed talking to Phil the most as his questions about the bike and the trip helped renew my interest. Whether it is someone's pleasure after asking "where ya going?" as I ride by and my response "San Diego" or Phil's simple answer "No shit?!" followed by a series of questions, these things make me ride faster and stronger, if only temporarily.

start riding: 8:15am
stopped riding: 5:00pm
ride time: 4:52:56
miles: 61.58
calories: 4,742
average speed: 12.61 (max speed 31.75 mph)
elevation: rolling from 280' to 80' and back up again.

http://www.cowboylyrics.com/lyrics/jackson-alan/chattahoochee-6527.html

Monticello to Crawfordville, FL (71 miles)

2008-05-02T11:13:00.000-07:00

Thursday May 1, 2008

I shared some laughs with the kind owners of the Brahman Inn when I checked out and left the home of the overflowing toilet at 8:15am. The first 11 miles down County Road 259 were hilly. Every day it seems the first few miles are tough, but then it just becomes rhythmic. Stronger each day, I am now turning the third chainring and climbing hills in it. These hills are rolly and it is frustrating to fight for elevation you only give back a few feet fuerther down the road. i consider it training ground, though.

Passing the overpriced KOA near Waukeenah, I headed into a town named Wacissa. The road crew was out trimming the trees along the power lines in preparation for storm season. They had one lane of the 2 lane road closed and the traffic control guys with signs were out. As I approached, the man in the orange vest smirked and turned it from STOP to SLOW. I told him that it was the only way I knew how to travel and he and the other guys laughed.

In Wacissa, I stopped at the gas station/store. Despite the fact the power was out so the road crew could work, I grabbed a couple drinks from the dark cooler and talked with the heavyset guy behind the counter. His interest right away was what I did for a living. When I mentioned working for a technology company in the past, he moved onto stories of technology stocks. Just as the story was ending, he informed me he was closing shop to "make a run out to the dump while he had time". I went down to the post office and got a couple post cards and sent them out from the dark lobby.

Heading out of Wacissa, the fun started. Super flat roads with little to no traffic. County Road 259 and Old Plank Road (County Road 2195) are wooded on both sides and flat, so you can really get moving as long as you can keep your mind occupied for the miles you saw ahead of you. 10 miles outside of Woodville, I pulled over at a bridge so I could rest. 10 minutes passed, but no cars ever did. Most of the traffic I DO see is comprised of County vehicles.

In Woodville (popln 3,006), I found a place to eat lunch called "Debbie's Country Diner". It was located inside a gas station. Having parked the bike outside the front entrance, I could see both booths inside were occupied by people who may be talking about the uncommon sight in front of them, as is common gossip topic in small towns. Having ordered chicken tenders, mashed potatoes & gravy, and lima beans for lunch, I sat down at one of the recently vacated booths. Next to me was an older gentleman who said I could join him. Nice fella. His name was Dick Ranger, retired law enforcement. Silver hair with bushy eyebrows and metal rimmed glasses, he claimed the lima beans Debbie made were a real treat, and it looked from the healthy sagging cheeks on his face, he didn't miss too many of her meals. Dressed in a light blue shirt with white snaps, dark blue pants, with black socks and black shoes like the grocery boys wear, he made conversation with me. First he pointed out the guy filling up with gas out there, how he had a nervous habit of fidgeting with his eyeglasses 10 times. "Nerves, ya know?" he said. "Nerves have ate him up." Soon, his long time friend and hunting buddy, Roger, with white hair revealing a widows peak, silver rimmed glasses atop a large schnoz, came to join us. Roger is the husband of Debbie, the station manager. Both shared rumors about the nervous man outside and his gambling problem. They said he loved the scratch off lottery tickets and would sometimes go to the bank across the street to get money and come over to the station and spend it on tickets, sit in the driver seat of his car, and scratch them off, only to return to the station repeating the process. In bad times, he would drive out, circle the gas pumps, and drive back in choosing another place to park. They say he has a lucky parking place. As they shared these stories they asked me more about me and where I was from, what i was doing, and commenting on the "fancy bike ya got there". Once Dick found out I was heading to San Diego, he told everyone who entered the station. He also told me the route I needed to go from Woodville to Crawfordville, where I would visit my uncle for a couple days. Along the way, he recommended Wakulla Springs State Park, recalling days from his youth how he and Roger and others would sneak in and go swimming in the springs. "Largest and deepest springs in the world", he said. Parting the station, Roger continued to tell arriving customers of my eventual destination and said so boastfully, with pride and some ownership of this goal himself somehow. As I rode down St. Marks trail, an old railroad turned bike trail, Roger drove by waving as he went home. Very nice people! Lucky I met them!

Following my GPS directions, I went by the Wakulla Springs State Park and verified it is indeed the largest and deepest spring in the world. With crystal clear 70-degree water, it is beautiful, though I resisted successfully from jumping off the 2-story diving platform there. A few short conversations with people there, and I was off again. Follwoing some haywiore directions provided by the GPS, I made it to my Uncle Tom's place at 5:45pm and 71 miles from where I started that day. Fed well as a reward, I went to bed thinking about how kind those two fellas were in Woodville.

started riding: 8:15am
ended riding: 5:45pm
time biking: 5:29:41
miles: 70.6
average speed: 12.85
calories: 5,353

Suwanee River State Park to Monticello, FL (50 miles)

2008-05-02T10:39:00.000-07:00

Wednesday April 30, 2008

It was sooooo cold last night in a tent and sleeping bag at the Suwanee River State Park. I heard it got down to 40 or so. I think maybe a little cooler. As the night continued, I found my way deeper inside my sleeping bag and the zipper closed a little more each time, until i didn't want to pop my head out of the tent in the morning.

I am not a quick mover in the morning. 5:45am the alarm goes off and by 6:15am I am cautiously out of the tent. After breaking down camp, making breakfast and cleaning up, and then strategically placing all the goods back into my bike bags it is already 8:15am before I head off.

First, I followed Hwy 90 out of the park and into a small town of Lee (popln 352). Drawn in by the sign at the General Lee store that stated "Fresh Copenhagen", I stopped to get some drinks and eyeball those there for the freshest Copenhagen around. Not finding the friendliest folk at the store, I moved on quickly. Next stop was Greenville. It's up to you if you pronounce the "i" or not. Just out side Greenvlle, I met another long distance bicycle tourist named John. He was from Denver and started in San Diego heading to Jacksonville. His advice: "it all becomes a daily regimen. Repeat your daily habits day by day, and you will make it in no time."
He was traveling a little differently. he puts in about 75 miles and stays in motels. I put in around 50 miles a day and camp as much as I can. Tomato, tomahto.

In Greenville (popln 837) I found the only place to eat lunch was a red & white gas station that cooked meals. I got the 2-piece chicken dinner with mac&cheese, yams, and cornbread for $4.99. I took it over to the Haffye Hays Park across the street to eat in the shade at the picnic tables I had seen from the road when passing. As I was eating, a girl who I saw walking down the road came over and sat at another picnic table while smoking a cigarette, a prerequisite for residency status it seems. In her red sleeveless t-shirt and baggy light blue shorts, she lounged and with each drag of the smoke she described Greenville a little bit more. "It's not like Perry, she said. it is a more laid back town. I just moved here from Perry." Keep in mind, Perry is so close to Greenville, I could probably push my bike from Greenville to Perry and have half a day left over. She laughed when I asked how big Greenville was. In her Malorie-drawl-like way (of Mickey and Malorie from the movie Natural Born Killers) she responded "small, it's just small". She disappeared while I was eating, but later I saw her spending away the minutes by doing the Tony Little-like Gazelle exercise at a machine located down by the man made lake.

The ride from Greenville to Monticello along Hwy 90 wasn't bad. As I rode along, I saw a tractor on the road way up in the distance. Pedalling a little harder, a little faster, I was catching up to him. It wasn't long before I knew I could get up next to him. I just read a book by Dave Shields called "The Race" where the main character started out racing a tractor to a nearby town. The driver looked surprised to see me, smiled, and was laughing a bit. Adios, Farmall. I blew him away carrying 90 pounds with me. I knew my legs were gettings tronger each day.

The Quad hurt and needed rest, but it looked like it might get it sooner than expected. The KOA campground located past Monticello wanted $20 for a primitive campsite (you get a chunk of real estate and access to bathrooms and water, but no electricity), while the Brahman Inn motel in Monticello only wanted $37 for a room and the library there provided internet for blog updates. For the $17 difference, I had the ability to charge my phone, GPS, etc and grab food locally. I found the public library, did the previous 2 blog entries based on my journal, and then went to the motel. After checking in and showering, I went to grab dinner at a local restaurant "Sage" just down the road. Encountering two "wild basset hounds" who howled and howled at me before wandering back off the road and into the woods, I carried on. Dogs are my fear on this ride as I have seen plenty of them already. So at Sage....I swear I am not gaining weight on this trip, but after eating, the chair I was sitting in just flat out broke and left me sitting on the patio floor with others looking my direction. Stating "that meal was filling!" I got up and laughed it off, and ordered a piece of the German chocolate cake I saw perched near the cash register inside when I entered.

Leaving the people back there a story to tell at work tomorrow, I walked back to the motel and found two other long distance bicycle tourists were in the room next to mine, waiting for me as they were told I was at the motel when they checked in. I turned down the Bud though Nick and Carolyn were kind enough to offer. I didn't need to be bribed to talk and hang out. I was just as interested in their stories as they might've been in mine. Nick and Carolyne sold their house north of Seattle, grabbed their bikes and a train to San Fran, biked from San Fran to San Diego, and then turned left and went from San Diego to Monticello with plans to finish at St. Augustine, where I started. We exchanged tips as to where to stay and what to see. I think Vernus from the Ichetucknee Springs Campground may have them as guests and sell a t-shirt.
They snapped a couple photos of us just hanging out right outside the rooms, and I hope they send me one. After I went to my room, it was around 10:30pm when I heard the toilet making noises and yep, a well-known cheap motel risk, the toilet was overflowing. Notifying the Indian manager named "Sam" he told me he was plunging in the room right on the other side of mine and he is sorry he caused it to happen. No harm. I got my stuff together and moved to another room. Wild basset hounds, a broken chair, and an overflowing toilet. Goodnight, Monticello.

started riding: 8:15am
ended riding: 5:15pm
time biking: 3:11:48 (this time is off, GPS froze up)
miles: 41.28 recorded before GPS freeze (estimate 50)
average speed: 12.91 mph
calories: 3,125 (before GPS freeze)

Ichetucknee Springs to Suwanee River State Park (54 miles)

2008-04-30T13:31:00.001-07:00

Tuesday April 29, 2008

Vernus (the camprground owner) and I had some time to talk before I left. I was warming some oatmeal in the microwave while Vernus was petting Tiger, the cat that was just a kitten when Vernus took over 10 years ago. Vernus is originally from Misourri and had served 3 years in Vietnam. We talked about how I grew up, how he grew up, how his 15 & 17 year old kids are growing up, etc. He told me how the times are bad for America right now given the economy, the price of gas, etc. And that trips to his campground are considered to be things that people can do without during tough times. Showing me a calendar, the reservation numbers were a fraction of what they were last year, and due to an error, Vernus was soon to receive $6,000 worth of t-shirts he was not sure who he would sell them to.

Need a novelty present for someone in your life? Email Vernus and buy a t-shirt.
http://www.ichetuckneecanoeandcabins.net/
Tell him Dan the cyclist sent you.

Today's ride was filled with clear skies but cool weather. I got started riding at 8am, and wore arm warmers all day as the headwinds I faced the entire distance to Suwanee River State Park were a bit chilling.

After about 30 miles, I felt a pull in my left Quadricep. I capitalize Quadricep to give it some new respect that I may have not given it before. I am not sure if it is a pull or just sore from the use of it these first 200 miles, but I am tending to it with Ibuprofen, additional stretching, and an occassional muscle relaxant.

Fortunately for me County Road 136A, the road I was on, was relatively flat so I could do pretty well with one leg if need be. From time to time, I will pull over into the two-track trail left by the mailman as he swerves over to the shoulder to a mailbox, and rest my bike against an unknown friend's mailbox as I stretch it further.

After a quick lunch at a nearby campground restaurant (where I think only employees of the campground typically eat, yet it is the only restaurant around), I found my way on County Road 132 toward Suwanee River State Park (yes, as in Way Down Upon The Swanee River, the name was intentionally misspelled for the song so people wouldn't try to pronouce the U). 132 unfortunately was full of hills as the waitress had warned me. With a few breaks, I made it though my Quad was not real happy. I had to be there near 3pm as a reporter from the Suwanee (yes, use a U this time) Democrat newspaper was there to interview me. The interview went well and I enjoyed talking with Vanessa, who lives in Madison, Florida, the halfway point in my journey across Florida which I will pass tomorrow.

After a quick photo shoot, I set up camp at site #29, where two long distance cyclists from Wisconsin had occupied the night before on there way back from San Diego. Too crazy!
I made a little dinner (Beef Stroganoff with Noodles) thanks to Mountain House meals I purchased at REI, and then did a little hike to see the Suwanee River.

In bed by 9pm with my IcyHot friend (really the tube of IcyHot), I hope to wake with a fixed Quadricep.

started riding: 7:58am
ended riding: 3:00pm
time biking: 4:45:04
miles: 54.10 miles
average speed: 11.39
calories: 3,800

Ichetucknee Springs Family Grocery & Campsites

2008-04-30T13:19:00.001-07:00

Monday April 28, 2008

I didn't sleep so well in the tent. I am still getting used to my setup. At home I have pillows positioned just right for a good nights rest. In tent world, I haven't quite figured out the right setup yet. I noticed when I put my head down that I could hear my pulse. That happens when you put your head down just right, but mine seemed faster than normal. I think i counted 84 bpm though I am not sure how that compares to my normal lethargic heart rate.

As morning came, I decided today was going to be a rest day!
I had listened for rain all night. Nothing.
A few drops after a while, but nothing serious.
By 9:30am I was up and eating breakfast: Powerade, cold cereal (Corn Pops) with water (because the market up front only had milk in gallon size jugs), peanut butter sandwiches, and granola bars. I used the time to write in my journal and watch the squirrels chace eachother. I even thought I saw a red cardinal but when I snapped a photo and zoomed in, it was a parrot. The only other guest at the campground was leaving for Jacksonville today, so it would be just me out here.

I took the advice of Vernus and Elaine, the campground owners, and went to visit the Ichetucknee Springs across the street. Man, was that cool! The spring that gets the most attention is known as Blue Hole Spring and it is beautiful. After doing a little hiking, seeing canoers go by on the river, I deicded I had to jumpo in the Spring. Yikes. 72 degrees. Thgis is not like my 104-degree hottub back home. But had to try it, and may likely live forever if this was the place Ponce de Leon was actually looking for (so I got that going for me)!

Today was a slow day filled with anticipation of riding again. I was excited to keep going, and uncertain of my decision to rest today since there were only off and on showers. These showers were, however, Florida-style and not the mist we get in San Diego occassionally. Probably made the right choice to stay.

One word about the campground. I stayed at Ichetucknee Springs Family Grocery & Campsites. They have cabins as well. The place is really beautiful. Owners Vernus and Elaine have done a great job with it, and I hope business picks back up for them.

Gainesville to Ichetucknee Springs State Park near Fort White (46 miles)

2008-04-30T12:57:00.000-07:00

Sunday April 27, 2008

I woke up early and got everything ready to go. The TV people from Channel 20 ABC from Gainesville did not show until almost 10am. Gavin, the reporter, did the interview. It went smooth and easy and would result in a couple short clips that would air at 6pm and 11pm newstimes. Oddly enough, Gavin just interviewed for a job in Wisconsin and hopes to get it. We talked about diversity in the Madison area since Gavin is black and has a southern accent. He was encouraged by our discussion and soon I left the hostel.

Gainesville at 10:30am is not the time to be heading out on your bike for a 50 mile ride. Despite the warm temperatures, I felt fine given the fact I take a break every hour and get off and stretch. It also helped that it was partly cloudy so it kept the scorching sun to a minimum.

After close to 30 miles, I was just about out of available fluids on my bike but was so glad to find a single oasis known as "Vics". Vics is a bait & tackle shop/gas station/quickmart/weekday kitchen, etc. As I rolled up and inquired as to the tremendous ice sales I saw going on, I was told everyone was heading to the spring or the lake. Have at it, people! Sounds pretty nice!

I went inside and got a drink and snacks. Not ready to leave I hung out inside and talked with a guy behind the counter named Bob. He worked Sundays alone and saw many regular customers. Some he knew well, others not so well. One fella in particular barely walked in and Bob simply asked "how many today?" as he reached up and put his hand on this mans preferred brand of cigarettes without looking. The man, unshaven all weekends, responded with "one" and seconds later, I am guessing he was off to the lake. I sat down in a spare chair and between visitors, Bob and I got to talking. He explained that the sign I was reading "sausage pancake on a stick" is kinda like a corn dog, and he laughed as he said it. Vicsa reminded me of a "Sack-o-s..s...ss...sssSuds" place from the movie "My Cousin Vinny" except no Tempest or Buick Skylark with posi-traction.

Bob had told me before I left, after learning my route was to include a village of 3,600 people called High Springs, that it would be busy up there because High Springs was having their Pioneer Days this weekend and the shootout would be at 2pm. Aftyer biking the 5 miles left to get to High Springs, I saw the main street in town lined with vendor tents, and many people (for a town this size) walking around. After strolling the street a bit, I heard gunfire. The shootout? I wandered over to have a look. Sure enough. The shootout can be summed up as this: a group of peopel chose sides, they argue a bit, they show no sign of compromise, they find their way to opposite sides of the available space, and they shoot at eachother. They stop and verify that the other side is not willing to give up yet, and then they shoot some more. Classic theater.

I was hungry and didn't want vendor food despite the boyscouts funnel cakes for $4. So I found signs that said AC, Bathrooms, BBQ.... hmmmm, assuming the Bathrooms were a lure for people like me and had no real connection to the BBQ, I had found my place to eat. It was run by the Ladies Group of High Springs. I ate well and talked with a few of the ladies while there. They had taken interest in my ride across the US for charity: water and would discuss it when they met next. After excellent BBQ and baked goods, I left and hit the road destined for Fort White.

I was told there was a rails to trails path along US 20/27 between High Springs and Fort White. I looked for it, but could not find it. After looking a few times, I decided I was spending more time looking than just taking the highway, so I did. Rolling into Fort White I saw cars with their lights on approaching me and dark skies ahead. Not a good sign. Racing at a speedy 11mph, I found my way to Ichetucknee Springs State Park and stayed at Ichetucknee Family Grocery and Campsites.

I got there in time to set up camp in daylight, eat some peanut butter sandwiches, and go to bed. I was told the chance for rain the next day was 70% and severe storms. I was pretty convinced I would take a rest day tomorrow when I fell asleep.

started riding: 10:35am
ended riding: 5:45pm
time biking: 3:54:45
miles: 45.52
average speed: 11.63
calories: 3,410

East Palatka, FL to Gainesville, Fl (59 miles)

2008-04-27T06:13:00.000-07:00

Saturday April 26, 2008

I woke up at 6:30am and got out of the tent by 7:00am.
After doing some chores left from dinner last night, I packed up my tent and other gear inside.
After I got that to a reasonable point, I started the cookstove for oatmeal and packed my bags further while the water boiled. After eating, I finished packing, lubed the chain on my bike, and got going out of camp at 8:30am.

Most of the road was shady this morning. It was great! It made for an enjoyable start supplemented by occasional waves and shouts from what are likely some pretty poor people sitting outside watching traffic. I remember these people from when I lived in the South. They are nice folks with no money to do anything else but watch. So they would wave or shout "Where ya heading?" and shout again when I said "San Diego". Each time that happened, I would get goosebumps and my speed would increase for a moment. (And drop back almost imemdiately after.)

At 10:30am I stopped at Florahome, FL on Hwy 100. I got more drinks and snacks. Seemed I was doing well with 20 miles down and 30 more to go as I thought. After a 20 minute rest, I left to continue down the road. After another 10 miles, I stopped n the shade to rest since it felt so hot out here. It had to be 85 at least, maybe more on the asphalt. Because of the rolling hills, I could feel my quads working slightly more than yesterday. Nothing serious, but noted.

I stopped in Melrose for lunch. I saw Carla's Deli which looked inviting at Noon-ish. After Carla saw the bike and asked a few questions, she immediately asked me to take their phone number down and call when I got to San Diego so they knew I made it ok. They set me up with Un-sweet Tea in one of my water bottles and put ice in the other two and said they would be watching the blog. Hi to the good folks at Carla's Diner. Thanks for the great burger and for being so kind!!!

Once to Hawthorne, utopia arrived. It goes by the name of Hawthorne, Gainesville Trail and can be described as a green wooded trail only for pedestrian traffic and bikes separated from any roads. It is part of the Rails & Trails program that Florida has embraced so well. There I met Jim & Kathy. Jim is a bicycling enthusiast and was asking about my panniers as he and his wife Kathy sometimes go out on bikes together. It was nice meeting both of them and provided for a longer break than I would've given myself so that was appreciated. Other folks on the trail included families biking together since it is a Saturday after all, as well as girls rollerblading. Twice I offered to stop with a first aid kit since a little girl fell off her bike, and then what was likely a Gainesville college girl fell on Rollerblades. As long as I get to my destination before dark, I am fine with pit stops. Though I may have to rethink the best time to travel as the heat winds up through summer. Earlier starts and maybe some evening riding will be my approach.

Arrived at Zen Hostel in Gainesville. The pklace is unique. Outside are the Tibetan flags I have seen in pictures from mountaintops, an odd outside shower on the deck, and only a handful of residents (some long term, some not). It is probably not where i would normally stay but it was quiet and that is what I needed. After a shower, some laundry, I went to Quizno's and got a big steak sandwich. Then i got gelato and ate it on the way to find drinks. I got drinks for tomorrow from a crackhead foodstore at 4th Ave and Main.

TV crew from ABC Channel 20 supposed to arrive at 9am Sunday to interview me at the hostel.

started riding: 8:30am
ended riding: 5:30pm
time biking: 5:15:57
miles: 58.57
average speed: 11.12
calories: 4,629

St. Augustine, FL to East Palatka, FL (53 miles)

2008-04-27T05:57:00.000-07:00

Aperil 25, 2008 I left the security of St. Augustine and newfound friends there. I got a late start, probably because I wasn't sure what I was heading into. But by 9:30am I was on my way. Now here is the real problem... I hate the doubleback. What does that mean? If I wanted to do a ceremonial start by dipping my tires into the Atlantic I had to ride 5 miles int he wrong direction of my goal. Doubleback... means 10 miles of wasted energy. Well, I had to do it. If I didn't dip in the Atlantic, I would probably regret it later. Just as if I didn't attempt this ride, I would probably regret it later. So I found my way to St. Augustine Beach and as I slowed on the sand preparing to walk my bike down to the water, the sand shifted, and down I went. If you have ever gone snowboarding (or skiing for that matter), you may know the first fall is the worst becasue of the fear of it. So, bright side, I got the first fall out of the way and it was on soft white fine sand. Cool!

At the beach, a man walking his dogs snapped a photo of me and was thrilled with what I was doing. Another couple on bikes approached me as well. She has done a Appalachian Trail trek that lasted 7 months and oddly enough has a daughter in St. Augustine and another in San Diego. For a moment I considered making this a Daughter-to-Daughter ride, but I didn't think that would go well with Audrey so lets call it a cross country ride like always.

In Mollasses Junction, just out of St. Augustine I had stopped at a small service station in the middle of no where. I'll bet Mollasses Junction isn't even on your map. There a couple other cyclists were heading the opposite direction and stopped as well. They had come from San Diego and were finishing in St. Augustine today. I envied them. I wanted their experiences, but didn't necessarily want the 3,000 miles of riding. But I remind myself, if it was easy, then everyone would do it, and it would mean less. After picking up some tips from them, we parted. But before doing so, a guy filling his truck and boat with gas at the single pump told me "you better have a credit card to rent a car and go home". I truly hope he doesn't have kids he is raising. I will take his words as a challenge. I only wish I had a way to reach him. I would send him postcards all along the way.

In Hastings, I ate lunch at Lo Country Cookery "Lo Country Cookin makes you good look'n" their shirts say. An all you can eat catfish, jambalaya, crawfish, okra, etc buffet gave me some rest and some fuel.

It was a beautiful day. A slight headwind from Riverdale slowed me to 9-11 mph. Legs were a bit tired after 30 miles and may have contributed to a slower pace. Eventually I found my way to St. Johns Campground in East Palatka. Again I will be doubling back a few miles as this campground was a bit off route. Once Chris pointed to where the tents set up past the RVs (I was the only tent), I went to it. I set up the tent, got my sleep mat and bag set up inside. Carried my panniers into the tent, got the gear I needed to shower, and then made dinner before dark. After dark, a few phone calls and planning the next day's route.

Started riding: 9:30am
Ended riding: 5:00pm
Time biking: 4:41:03
Miles: 52.63
Average speed: 11.2 mph
calories burned: 2,806

Arrrgggg, what's in the bag one-eyed Jack???

2008-04-24T11:42:00.000-07:00

Here is a list of what items are in my bike bags.

Front Left Pannier: Cooking/Food Supply
Whisperlite International cookstove (operates on white gas, kerosene, or unleaded fuel)
Fuel bottle for stove
fork/spoon wrapped in an old sock and tied with rubberband to prevent rattling while riding
Some food and energy gels, etc
Medium cookpot with lid: I got a $12 aluminum cheapy from REI
Lighter and waterproof matches (backup)
old school tiny can opener
various wipes (keep'n it clean makes good hygiene)

Front Right Pannier: Bike-Related Items
2 spare tubes wrapped in socks to protect a bit
chain lube
presta/schraeder valve adapter (so I can fill tires at a gas station instead of pump)
saddle cream (to prevent a sore behind)
hose clamps and zip ties (odd recommendations as items for roadside fixes)
electrical tape (again, same reasoning)
Brookes saddle kit
sewing kit
Bright safety vest (yes, Mom)
Spare brake and deraileur cable
2 extra chain links
a tire pressure gauge
an extra water bottle (besides the 3 on the bike)
tire pump
tire levers
multitool
patch kit
extra pair of biking gloves
some reflective rope
duct tape wrapped on a broken pencil
a repair splint for my tent should I need it
tiny towels that expand as water is absorbed
bike lock
shoe covers in case I ride in rain
arm warmers for riding in cooler temps
light wind jacket
Novara Stratos lightweight rain coat (waterproof as I learned my "water resistent" lesson a long time ago)
REI Ultralight rain pants (again, waterproof)

Real Left Pannier: Camping Gear
Big Agnes Seedhouse SL2 Tent (2-person lightweight tent, 2.5 pounds)
Mountain Hardwear Phantom 45 Sleeping Bag (super compressible, and 1 pound down-filled)
Big Agnes Air Core sleep pad (2.5 inches of air-filled comfort keeping me off the ground)
A tiny little whisk broom to keep the tent clean
a reading book
bungee cords (in case I win that big stuffed bear at the County Fair I may run into)
a roll of velcro (for repairs as they may occur or patching the bear)
first aid kit (frighteningly called "wound closure kit", ugh)
biodegradeable camp soap
insect repellent
sunscreen
earplugs
icy hot (or similar) for aching muscles
a small amount of laundry detergent in a ziplock
and toiletry bag

Rear Right: Clothes
2 cycling jerseys
2 loose thin jersey type shirts
1 light thin breathable collared shirt for the unexpected County Fair (you gotta dress to win the bear)
1 light windjacket for cycling
1 light sweatshirt made for running (when I realize that bear on the back of my bike is not stuffed)
1 pair of awesome Mtn Hardwear pants that convert to shorts
3 pairs of thin breathable white socks
1 pair of thicker socks (for cool nights?)
1 pair of sandals
1 pair of light trail shoes
3 pair of black cycling shorts

Handlebar bag
camera/charger/memory cards
"wallet" (typically rubber band wrapped bills)
Edge605 GPS Unit for Cycling (cleverly protected in a 99-cent plastic soapdish) & charger
a really big knife
lip balm
cellphone & charger
USB sticks to save photos from camera when finding a computer, as well as charity presentation
the Adventure Cycling Association maps from start in FL to finish in CA
Ipod/headphones/charger/tiny speakers
a really big knife
Green Bay Packers (of course) baseball cap
journal
passport (in case Mexico hills are recommended instead of the East San Diego nightmares)/ID
a really big knife
key to bike lock and handlebar bag (yep, it locks to the bike)
mutiple-lens sunglasses
very small cheap leatherman type tool I will be surprised if it makes it to the end having thought it already broke in Europe, but amazed to see it's resurrection.

What Ever Shall I Wear???
helmet
helmet mounted rearview mirror
bike shoes
socks
jersey
cycling shorts
loose green soccer type shorts (for getting off the bike and walking into a diner, store, etc)
a sweat-absorbing bandana type thing
and gloves

Well, there ya go.
That is quote a list.
You may be thinking, geez, does he really need all that stuff???!!!!
There are many great resources on the web for packing for a ride like this. I started with their list and added a few items I may choose to quickly discard as the mountains approach. As for Florida, it looks like 100-200 feet elevation change for the first few days, so I am fine.
You can also pack your bags in a different way trying to keep the weight balanced on both sides of the bike. I like some logic to how I pack my bags so I tried to "assign tasks" for each bag.

My next task... get the bike and then get some naptime. Tomorrow I shove off.

Here in St. Augustine, Florida

2008-04-24T11:16:00.001-07:00

Hi from St. Augustine, Florida. This is the oldest town in the US. I am not just saying that as in "I caught the biggest fish" or "your screams are the loudest I ever heard". I am serious. Google it. Once in Spanish control, then I think the French came to town, and then it was given to the US. Somewhere in there, the Pirates took over since it is a seaside town and was vulnerable to hookhands and eyepatches (no offense to Tito back home, heal quickly my friend.)

Anyway, I have to be honest. The nerves were cracking pretty good yesterday as I was flying Southwest (Ding! Feel free to move about the country.) en route to Florida. It started with little sleep. The ever amazing Audrey helped me pack my bike in it's transport case and we finished with that around 12:30am I think. Then I had more to do. The regular bill paying, cleaning up my office since I have technically rented her the house and so that space should be useable, and double checking my pack list like Santa Claus. At 2:30am I went to bed. At 4:45am the alarm went off so I could get spritzed up (spritz = a wet wash cloth and a slap in the face in this case), and head off to the airport for a 6:40am flight.

The entire way I was thinking about what I had packed, the fact it was a one-way trip (fairly committing), and how a full commitment would come when I ship my empty bike case back home. (By "the entire way" I mean the first 10 minutes while I was still awake, and then again after I woke up in Phoenix.) So three legs later (San Diego to Phoenix, Phoenix to Tampa, and Tampa to Jacksonville) I have to say that each step of the way, people who asked "business or pleasure in Jacksonville" or "Are you staying in Jacksonville long?" got a response they probably didn't plan on "I guess you call it pleasure and if all goes well, I won't be there long."

A guy (hi Joe) stopped me in Jacksonville airport and told me he had overheard my story to the person next to me. He was super supportive, maybe borderline envious (it's easy to be envious in an airponditioned airport) and appreciative that I was doing this for charity. He said he would follow the blog and if I came anywhere near his place in TX he would contact me and buy me dinner. Cool.

Skycap Eugene was super nice as well. After agreeing to split the money I tipped him with another skycap who had kindly made change for a $20 bill for me in prep for the shuttle I was going to take, Eugene then learned of my trip and told me to contact Channel 12 out of Jacksonville because they might cover my departure since thye do several stories on charities and have sports-loving reporters. I passed the info on to my friend Chris in Northern California who has unexpectedly volunteered to lead a press/media effort but I am not sure there is time for Channel 12 this time around.

Then Airport shuttle driver Robert who shared a bond with me related to the song "All my Ex's live in Texas". Robert and I had time to talk in the one hour drive from Jacksonville to St. Augustine, and he gave me a tour of St. Augustine as we looked for my hostel, the Pirate Haus & Inn in the center of Old Town.

All very kind people!

So here I am at the Pirate Haus (Arrrrgggg!) and I have met several very nice travelers from San Antonio (Brady), Mike (the Asst Mgr with dreams of life in Portland), Brandon from Gainseville (aspiring musician), Emily the organic farmer headed to Georgia, and Ronald from London. These were my new friends the first night as they insisted I join them for 50-cent beer night at a local tavern after having turned down Emily's homemade chili (delicious, I had some for lunch today). A few beers later, I came back to the hostel and got some Zzzzz's.

Today, April 24th, I took my bike to Sprockets Bike Shop. Robert from the bike shop just called me and my bike is ready to go. They basically reassembled it and will ship any items I decide I don't want and my empty bike case back to San Diego.

I will pick that up before 5pm thanks to Brady from San Antonio who has a gas guzzling Chevy Suburban and has offered to help me with the bike prep since he is not sleeping in the Suburban in a Walmart parking lot somewhere or sponge-bathing in the Piggly Wiggly restroom. Brady stories are fun to hear as he just gets started traveling.

More later. I am gonna try to fit a nap in now that I have repacked my bags (no unwanted or unneccessary items as far as I know), got my new GPS unit (thanks Audrey) working, and think I have things under control. Also will list the items I have with me so you guys know what it takes to pull off something like what I am attempting, or give me something to look back at and say "of course, I forgot the...." as I reread it.

You Found Your Way Here, Eh???

2008-04-17T16:20:00.000-07:00

Hi. Thanks for finding your way here.
I think I should probably start by saying...
1. why I am doing this
2. what equipment I am taking
3. identify my route
4. estimate when I will finish in San Diego

1. Why I am doing this.
Well, at least 3 years ago I bought a touring bike. My friend Mike and I actually bought identical touring bikes. He intended to do some bike camping, and I had this silly cross counntry ride in my head. I left my job at Tektronix in October 2006 and this bike was hanging in the garage. I had a few ideas in mind...

First, I chose easier stuff like going to Queretaro, Mexico (an amazing colonial town) to study Spanish in an immersion program. Well it may have been easier physically than biking 2,300 miles, but with 5 hours of class a day and staying with a family that spoke no english, my mind was fried at the end of each day.

Second, seeing how well traveling Mexico went, I decided to take what I learned to Spain. My friend Aaron and I ran with the bulls in Pamplona, and partied with the people at the San Fermin festival. Aaron left after 10 days in Spain, and I continued on my own through Spain, Portugal, France, Belgium, England, Germany, Czech Republic, Hungary, and Italy. What I discovered was that traveling alone was pretty fun! Although languages were an additional challenge, I did alright with english and spanish, and best of all, my travel plans could change on a moments notice as I met other travelers that would pull me their way.

After returning from Europe, as I worked on my house in San Diego, I kept thinking about the people I met in Europe. 5 Argentineans I met in Rome asked me to come visit Buenos Aires, and I thought that was the next thing in line. After just another day of swinging a hammer or weilding a paintbrush in San Diego, I went to the bar. There I met Audrey, an awesome girl originally from Wisconsin who has insprired me through her triathalons, etc to look again at that bike hanging in the garage. As she was training for an Ironman she just completed in Arizona, I would ride my 10x heavier tour bike behind her and the desire to ride across the country was reborn. South America and Buenos Aires will be a reward for me sometime following the bike ride from St. Augustine, Florida to San Diego, CA.

2. What equipment am I taking.
Bike: I have a Giant OCR Touring bike. The frame is aluminum while the fork is chrome-moly.
It has 3 water bottle mounts, shimano 105 front deraileur, shimano lx rear deraileur, shimano 105 shifters, a shimano 105 triple chainring 52/42/30, clipless pedals, adjustable stem, Avid road disc brakes, mavic rims, shimano deore hubs, and a SRAM PG950 11-32 rear cassette.

I replaced the seat with a Brookes saddle: Chambion Flyer (like the B17 but with springs). It is a leather saddle and has two springs in the design to dampen the road vibration. I replaced the Michelin Dynamic tires with 700-32c Schwalbe Marathon Supreme tires which, at half the weight of the original tires, are known for the durability with testimonials by touring cyclists that they have had no flats in 2,000+ miles.
More info on Schwalbe tires: www.schwalbe.com
More info on Brookes saddles: www.brookesengland.com

I put on SKS P45 fenders to keep the mud down as I will surely ride through some rain.
The front (Tara) and rear (Cargo) racks are from Tubus, a German company that provides a 3-yr on the road warranty backed behind an overnight shipment anywhere if your racks need attention. More info on Tubus racks: http://www.tubus.com/index/lang/en/

My panniers are from Ortlieb, another German company as zee Germans are known to be zee best for bicycle touring. I have the Backroller Plus and Front roller Plus panniers to attach to the Tubus racks. In addition I have the Ortleib Rackpack and Ultimate5 Plus handlebar bag. That is a LOT of waterproof storage for my things! Maybe too much. We will see.
More info on Ortlieb panniers: http://www.ortlieb.com/index2.php?lang=en

So the bags and racks probably add another 10 pounds, so the bike weight is at 40 pounds without adding any cargo to it. I will go into what specific cargo I am taking for such an adventure during another blog post.

If you are counting, the German companies so far mentioned are: Tubus, Ortlieb, and Schwalbe. I was not looking specifically to buy German made gear, but after reviewing the equipment and reading reviews by others, it turned out that way.

3. Identify my route
ok, I just scared myself a little. I thought this was a 2,300-mile ride since I went to Google and checked distance between St. Augustine and San Diego. Now I looked at my maps and I see it is 3,115 miles. Oh well.

I found a great resource for mapping routes for me. Adventure Cycling Association is an organization that promotes travel by bicycle. I ordered maps for their Southern Tier route from St. Augustine, Florida to San Diego, CA. This is a series of 7 maps, each with a recommended lesser traveled route, and with identified campgrounds, motels/hotels, hostels, bike shops, grocery stores, post offices, and libraries (for internet). Have a look at the picture of my overall route. If you are on or near this route, go to http://www.adventurecycling.org/routes/southerntier.cfm and click on "detail" on the portion where you are located. If you still think you are close, give me a call (cell 619 990 9098) if I can crash on your sofa or set up my tent in your yard.

I recommend spending some time at their site, www.adventurecycling.org. At this site, plenty of people have blogged about their journeys, and are looking for companions to travel with, etc.

For a quick assessment of my trip, here are some cities I will go through:
FLORIDA: St. Augustine, Palatka, Hawthorne, Gainseville, High Springs, Wellborn, Madison, Monticello, Tallahassee, Quincy, Chattahoochee, Marianna, Bonifay, Defuniak Springs, Crestview, Milton, Pensacola,
ALABAMA: Gulf Shores, Fairhope, Mobile, Grand Bay
MISSISSIPPI: Vancleave, Perkinston, Poplarville
LOUISIANA: Bogalusa, Easleyville, St. Francisville (near Baton Rouge), Simmesport, Lebeau, Washington, Mamou, Oberlin, Mittie, De Ridder, Merryville
TEXAS: Kirbyville, Silsbee, Kountze, Romayor, Coldspring, New Waverly, Navasota (NW of Houston), Burton, LaGrange, Bastrop, Austin, Kyle, Blanco, Kerrville, Hunt, Leakey, Camp Wood, Bracketville, Del Rio, Comstock, Langtry, Dryden, Sanderson, Marathon, Alpine, Fort Davis, Kent, Van Horn, Sierra Blanca, Fort Hancock, Fabens, El Paso
NEW MEXICO: La Mesa, Las Cruces, Hatch, Hillsboro, Silver City, Buckhorn
ARIZONA: Safford, Geronimo, Superioe, Apache Junction, Tempe, Phoeniz, Wickenburg, Aquila, Salome, Hope, Quartzsite
CALIFORNIA: Blythe, Glamis, Brawley, Seeley, Jacumba, Alpine, CA, San Diego, CA

4. Estimate when I will finish
I plan to ride about 50 miles a day, sometimes more, sometimes less. If I take 3,115 miles and divide by 50, it looks like 62 days. But I will likely take a rest day once a week. Remember this is a pleasure ride through America, not a race for speed. So 62 days will cover almost 9 weeks, so add 9 days to 62 and it looks like I will be out for 71 days or so.

If i begin pedaling in FL April 25th as planned, oh man, I just did the math... that puts me in San Diego July 4th. Remember that Audrey girl I mentioned as an inspiration for this ride? July 4th is Audrey's Birthday (as well as 97 yr old grandma's).

So there you have it.
More next time.