Day 30 / July 29, 2015

Since day 1, we've met about a dozen cyclists that were riding the Trans America Trail.  For the most part, the two minute exchange was enough time spent talking to them.  They were always nice, but they don't really pop up in my mind after going in our opposite directions.  There was one cyclist that we met that we often think back on, though.  She was a solo rider that we met on our second day.  That was only 4 weeks ago, but it's comical how naive Chris and I were back then.  

I never really told the story since I didn't write a Day 1 post, but Day 1 was straight up awful. I do tend to be nostalgic and brush over the negatives sometimes, but I'll always remember Day 1 for how it actually was.  We did far too long of a day and biked into the dark.  We couldn't figure out where the hostel was that was listed on the map, so we had to set up camp in an employee parking lot for a Civil War battleground.  I remember us being filthy; I don't know how we were so dirty, but it was the worst we've been all trip.  The parking lot obviously didn't have any showers, so there was no fixing that.  After I got settled in my tent and began to question what the hell I signed up for, there was a brilliant flash of light that completely illuminated my tent.  The storm that followed was unlike anything Chris and I had seen before or since.  Despite waterproofing the tent's seams, using a ground cloth, and using my rain cover, everything was drenched.  Although we didn't sleep very much, we quietly rolled out of our tents at 5:30am to the sound of Chris' alarm.  We gathered our thoughts and gear and biked to the closest gas station for breakfast.  While sitting outside staring blankly and eating quietly, we met Lydia.  We've since realized that she had probably stayed at the hostel that we couldn't seem to locate.  She was just a day short of completing the route that Chris and I are currently following and couldn't have contrasted us more.  The first thing we saw was her vibrant smile that displayed her overt cheeriness.  We were tired, filthy, and miserable.  We didn't talk long at all, but she excitedly said how Illinois and Missouri were her favorite states.  We hadn't expected to hear that, but we now know why.  The Midwest has been good to us.  While suffering through the Appalachians, I kept Lydia's words in mind.  I looked forward to moving on from the South to the Midwest and am pleased that Lydia was right.  Sure, the hills are still tough- but they're tough everywhere.  The people have been genuine and helpful, we've been experiencing more scenic views, and the riding has been great.  I'm sure that me writing a post saying how much I like the Midwest will result in tomorrow having some tough riding, but oh well.

Some scattered thoughts from the day: 

- We are in the city of Houston, which is in Texas County.  I'm sure there's an actual reason, but instead of looking it up, I'm just going to assume it's some kissing up to the lone star state. 

- The lunch options were plentiful, but we decided to go with what we thought was the healthiest option: Taco Bell.  Think about that for a second- the healthiest option that we saw was Taco Bell.

- At a Chinese buffet for dinner (not the worst call we've made), a woman came over to us.  She's also doing the trail (and going East like everyone else we've met).  She asked us how the rest of the trip was- particularly Virginia.  There's really no good in telling her how difficult we thought it was.  We didn't want to downplay it and get her hopes up, but we also didn't want to psych her out.  She said that she was expecting the trip to be all downhill from here.  We waited for her to crack a smile or give some indication that she was kidding, but she didn't budge.  She just came out of Kansas, the state that is used as a synonym for flat and boring (sorry Kansas), but was expecting the trip to be downhill from here.  I think she will soon realize that the hills will follow her to the Atlantic, I'm sure that she will crush the remaining part.

- We have somewhere between 60-70 miles tomorrow.  The city we're going to has over two thousand residents, so it's practically a metropolis by my standards these days. 

Day 31 / July 30, 2015

Although I thought I had jinxed us yesterday, the ride today was great.  We had a very smooth 65 miles that brought us to Marshfield, MO.  It was difficult leaving the comfort of the motel early this morning, but the cool winds made it worth it.  There was nothing too exciting about the ride today, which is sometimes nice.  We have been riding through Amish communities lately, so we've been sharing the road with a few horse carriages.  It only took a bit over 1,200 miles, but we finally found vehicles that we are faster than.

We are currently sitting in Dairy Queen as I write this and it's the second time we've had ice cream today.  Back on Day 27, when our Farmington friends (Brian and Jeneen) stopped by, Chris asked Brian if he found it hard to return to normal eating habits after the trip.  He quickly said yes and that he probably gained close to 20 lbs when he finished the trip. I'm pretty tired of eating junk, so I think I'm just going to binge on fruits and vegetables when I get back to New York.  This is what I've eaten today: Breakfast 1) 1 BEC on a biscuit and 1 SEC on a biscuit from Hardee's, Snack 1) Cheese Danish and a Gatorade, Breakfast 2) 2 eggs over easy, bacon, wheat toast, hash browns, and an ice cream cone, Snack 2) Gatorade and Nuterbutters, Dinner) a lot of Taco Bell, Dessert) Banana Split Blizzard.  That's actually much less than we've been consuming.  When I told my friend about how I've been eating, he told me I'm not suitable to live on my own because, if I'm eating ice cream twice a day, I still need someone to keep me in check.  I guess we shall see.  I like to think that I'll be able to rejoin society without too many complications.  

Oddly enough, as I was writing the previous sentence, Chris asked me if I thought things will be different when we get back.  We spoke about it for a while, but the biggest takeaway is that we are more relaxed and easy going.  I thought back to a few nights ago when I was carrying the frozen custards and they were spilling down my shirt and shorts and into my sandals.  I just shrugged it off and kept walking.  Chris has been having a few issues with his bike lately.  Instead of getting frustrated, he said, "At least there's a bike shop in 200 miles."  Chris also said that he's considering downsizing and living more frugally.  I respect the sentiment, but I don't think that'll be an approach that I take.  We still have about 700 miles left, though, so I guess we'll see where I'm at when I get to the finish line. 

Day 32 / July 31, 2015

I'm currently writing this while laying on the most comfortable bed I've had in over a month with a view looking over the goat farm that we are staying at.  We're at our second WarmShowers host in Walnut Grove, Missouri and I'm pretty sure that this is only the second home that we've been in since we left Yorktown, Virginia.  I'm pretty mentally exhausted, so I'm going to break my thoughts out to ensure clarity:

- The couple that is hosting us raises show goats.  They currently have about 75 goats on the property, though that number fluctuates.  I haven't had any prior experiences with goats, so I wasn't sure what to expect.  They are hysterical.  It's easy to see their personalities and that they're pretty intelligent.  They're also very affectionate and reminded me of dogs in some ways.  Mary always wants somewhat obscure (or just different) types of animas for pets, so I think I'm going to try to sell her on getting a goat. 

- Our host made us the best meal we've had in over a month: grilled chicken, kale salad, polenta, and capresse salad.  We even had fruit for dessert.  I hope that my body doesn't reject this food after being on a pre-packaged and processed diet for the past few weeks.  It was so nice to have vegetables and fruit.  Our host said that the diets in the Midwest are so bad that she will often have to tell the cashiers at the grocery store what kind of vegetables they're ringing up. 

- I don't really understand people's rationale when they say things like, "Oh, you have some tough rides ahead of you."  Thanks for the heads up?  I swear, every single time we've been at a gas station, some old man will strike up a conversation with us.  "Where ya from?" followed by "Well, you're a long way from home!"  They will then ask us our route, to which they will always reply through a cocky smile saying, "You have some big hills coming up."  At first, I thought that they were always just giving us a nice, albeit unnecessary, warning.  After hearing it at least once a day, though, I think that they're actually bragging about their hills.  It sounds ridiculous (because it is), but it's as though they take such pride in having these hills that challenge cyclists.  The best part is, they're usually wrong.  The bigger the local hype, the smaller the hills tend to be.  Just today, at a gas station about 7 miles shy of our destination, I was sitting there drinking my Gatorade and eating my granola.  An older guy walks up to us and does the usual routine of asking us where we're from.  He went inside and I thought we avoided the typical warning sequence.  A few minutes later, he walked out of the gas station, paused, turned to us, and said, "Ya'll have some steep hills ahead of you."  He smiled, said nothing else, and got into his Chevy pickup.  He may as well have called me champ or chief with the condescending tone he used.  Also, I'm glad to say that the hills weren't so bad.

- Nor sure where we're riding to tomorrow, but we are about 15 miles from officially being out of the Ozark mountains.  We'll be trading hills for flats and trees for nothing.  Kansas sounds quite barren, but I'm excited to be able to see for miles and miles.  We haven't heard too many good things about Kansas, but we're going into it looking to give it a fair shake.  We have another day or two in MO, so we will make sure to enjoy those in case all our warnings about Kansas are warranted.

Day 33 / August 1, 2015

Well, we're out of the hills and spending our last night in a park pavilion in Golden City, MO.  I had told our WarmShowers host this morning that the bed they provided me with was one of the most comfortable ones I've ever been in, but he raised a good point: it could just be that, in an effort to cut weight, I don't use a sleeping pad.  I carry a DSLR camera, a Microsoft Surface, and some heavy clothing I haven't even touched, but I skimped on the sleeping pad that weighs like half a pound.  Sleeping on the concrete floors in park pavilions just makes me appreciate beds that much more.  We had a decent and mostly forgettable last full day in Missouri that led to this concrete floor.

We left Walnut Grove a bit late, but that was fine since we didn't have too many miles to worry about.  Before we were even out of the town, we had passed by a dog, a deer, and an  armadillo laying curbside.  I've been asked a handful of times if we've seen any cool animals; I have actually seen many animals, but unfortunately it's usually while swerving to avoid their remains.  Roadkill was one of those things that was lacking from my romanticized day dreams about this trip prior to departure, but it's been one of the reoccurring themes the whole way.  You probably don't want to read more about road kill, so I'll leave it at that.

We didn't really see any people until about 12 miles outside of Golden City when we met a father-son eastbound duo at a single lane crossroads of sorts.  They had just experienced their first climb pretty much since the Rockies, which meant we were about to have our last one.  For them, the hill represented the emerging Ozarks and the end of flats.  For us, the hill was the last thing between us and the flats of western Missouri and Kansas.  When Chris and I got to the other side, we paused to check the maps.  We looked around and laughed.  Despite everyone's negative feedback about this section of the trip, it's a portion that we had been looking forward to for a long time.  We had made it.  They say be careful what you wish for, but even if Kansas is awful, I'll just lie to myself until I love it.

Our host this morning asked if we'd be going to Cooky's in Golden City.  Although we hadn't heard of it, it's apparently part of the TransAmerica folklore.  Their specialty is pie, which we were excited to learn; we've been craving pie since our South Korean friend named Yum spoke so dearly about it on Day 10 (if you haven't read about our encounter with Yum, I highly recommend you scroll down to Day 10 and check it out).  There aren't many options for restaurants in Golden City, so we had both lunch and dinner there.  The meals were pretty good, but the pies were great. After lunch, I had the Dutch cherry pie with chocolate ice cream.  For desert after my desert, I had lemon meringue.  As we were leaving, we heard the waitress mention a Reese's pie.  Even though we were pretty sure we were going back for dinner, hearing that sealed our fate.  If you're ever in Golden City, MO, try the Reese's and/or the Dutch cherry.  Lemon meringue was meh.

We have a very short day to Pittsburgh, Kansas tomorrow.  Chris needs a few problems with his bike fixed up, so we'll get to have a relaxing ride prior to dropping off his bike. 

Day 34 / August 2, 2015

With our shortest day and flattest roads ahead of us, we figured we had time for one last meal at Cooky's before we left Golden City.  There was a stained glass window next to our booth that read: "Cooky's: Since 1942."  While looking around, I began wondering how much has changed since Cooky's first opened.  The men were wearing overalls, the conversations revolved around farm life, and the faces in the booths had kind of a weathered American look to them.  It felt like I was looking at a photo that had been taken in black and white decades ago but was recently colorized.  When I see a black and white photo, it appears so distant and long ago that it's hardly relatable.  When an artist colorizes a black and white photo, the time doesn't feel as extreme; it becomes easier for me to empathize with the scene, but I can still tell that the people in the photo lived in a different time in a different world.  I had a slight understanding of the people in Cooky's, but mostly they seemed like remnants of a community that was left unchanged as the world spun on.  

Despite it being 8am when we finished our meal, we felt no shame in asking what pies they had.  They were in the process of baking the day's supply, but I was able to snag a slice of the Dutch Peach.  This will probably be the only time in my life that I can unabashedly eat pie at 8am, so I'm going to enjoy it while I can.  After loading up on calories, we were ready to roll.  We stepped outside and Chris looked at the map; we had a straight shot to Pittsburgh, Kansas.  All we had to do was turn our bikes around and follow the road that Cooky's was on and we'd be in Kansas.  

The only clue that we had that we had crossed into Kansas after 25 miles was the "Welcome to Missouri" sign on the eastbound side of the road.  We've looked forward to Kansas for so long, so we were disappointed that we were unable to take touristy photos in front of a "Welcome to Kansas" sign.  The trip was quiet, flat, and slightly boring- it was just the kind of change that we were looking forward to.  We continued into Kansas a bit further and arrived in Pittsburgh.  The city limits sign claimed there to be 20,000 residents, but I think that the census may have been a little liberal with that count.  The bike shop is closed tomorrow, so we will be taking a rest day.  I'd say that maybe I'll get out and explore to find where those 20,000 people were hiding when we rode through, but the chance of me going more than a city block away on a day off is doubtful.

Day 35 / August 3, 2015

There's not too much to report today, which means that it was a successful rest day.  Food options within walking distance were limited, so we went to Chili's for lunch despite going there for dinner last night.  After I ordered a beer, the waitress asked, "What is this?" while holding my NY driver's license.  She looked genuinely puzzled as she fumbled with the card between her fingers.  She shrugged, passed it back to me, and said that it was good enough for her.  She remembered us from last night, so we spoke a little about our trip.  A few minutes later, the regional manager came over.  His presence had visibly flustered some of the staff, but he was very friendly.  He told us that he overheard about our trip and asked a few questions.  He smiled and walked away, but returned with a $50 gift card for us to use the next time we passed by a Chili's.  We weren't sure if we'd see another one, so we decided to go back for dinner as well.  We ordered a gluttonous and almost nauseating amount of food and were handed a check for $0.25.  I had never been to a Chili's prior to entering Kansas, but I'm a fan now.

The day was lazy, unmotivated, and awesome.  I went to the first Starbucks I've seen since leaving NYC and felt like a real person.  The customers were wearing collared shirts, there were struggling writers staring at their computers, and people were talking business.  I felt like I was briefly back at home.  While drinking my triple espresso, I had a moment of reflection.  I used to stop in for Starbucks half way through my two hour commute to work (after the bus and before the train) and was always stressing to catch my train.  Today, I was at peace.  I was sitting on a Monday morning with no train to catch and not a worry on my mind.  Today was a good day.

After getting Chris' bike fixed up tomorrow morning, we'll have about 60 miles to bring us one day closer to Colorado. 

Day 36 / August 4, 2015

The bike shop didn't open until 10, so we were able to sleep in and grab breakfast before waiting for the owner to let us in.  It took about an hour and a half, but he was able to fix Chris' bike up.  The shop owner is actually a former pro cycling racer that used to compete in NYC.  He said he's lived in Pittsburgh, KS, Pittsburgh, PA, and NYC.  He has to be one of the only people to have lived in two different Pittsburghs, right?  We left the shop with clouds hovering over us that followed us the whole day.

About 5 miles outside of Pittsburgh, a man in a minivan pulled into the oncoming lane and slowed down to my pace.  He rolled down his window and began having a conversation with me while I continued to pedal.  He was nice enough and was asking about the route.  I had heard that people will sometimes try to convert cyclists in certain parts of the country, so I kept my answers brief.  He didn't ask me if I've accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior, but he did begin asking where I was staying tonight.  I still am not at the point where I trust everyone, so I smoothly said, "Uh oh um like 50/60 miles away in Kansas" and slowed down so that he would have to speed up.  I'm sure that he wasn't asking in a predatory way, but my sister works for the show 48 Hours and I know how these things work.

The riding today was great.  At one point, I was looking down at my handlebar bag, which has a can of (never been used) dog mace dangling from it.  I began thinking about the dogs of Eastern Kentucky and how happy I was that I haven't been chased in a while.  Less than a mile later, I passed by a house that had a chiuhaha in the front yard.  It began chirping at me since, you know, it's a chiuhaha.  I thought nothing of it until 5 of its chiuhaha cronies came out of no where and began chasing after me.  I will give those little dogs credit- that was the longest any pack of dogs kept after me all trip.  Other than that, the ride was fairly uneventful.  Sure, the wind in Kansas can be annoying.  The flats have definitely made up for it, though.  We cruised today for 60 miles to Chanute.  There was a threat of rain all day, but we were able to make it here dry.  The chance of rain is supposed to increase throughout the night, so we are staying in some sort of metal lean-to shed in a city park.  It's got a roof and outlets, so that's all we need.  Tomorrow we will be going on to Eureka, Kansas.