Day 22 / July 22, 2015
With a smooth 70 mile ride today, we made it to a church hostel in the town of Marion for our last night in Kentucky. The day had ups and downs, hills and flats, sun and shade, and farms and more farms. At one point, all I could see was the narrow road I was on surrounded by walls of corn in every direction. Although the corn fields provide less scenic views, they tend to have less of a stench than other farm fields, so I don't mind them much.
The only stop we made was at "Classic Cafe" for lunch in Dixon, which turned out to be one of our better meals in a while. When we walked up to the counter to pay, the waitress informed us that our tab had already been taken care of. She pointed at a vacant booth and explained that the woman that had been sitting there paid for us. I was so wrapped up in what I was doing that I hadn't even noticed anyone else in the cafe, but this woman had recognized us as bikers and was so kind to treat us to lunch. It's tough to explain how it feels when strangers do these kinds of things for us; humbling is the only word that comes to mind, but it's more than that. I wish we could have thanked her in person, but thank you so much for the meal, mystery woman.
Immediately after entering Marion, there was a sign welcoming cyclists to the town. We found the church hostel shortly after, but were met with locked doors. Posted to the doors was a note for cyclists welcoming us and providing phone numbers in case we couldn't get in. Less than three minutes after the call was made, an older man named Tom shuffled up to us with the ring of keys jingling in his hand. Tom instructed us to follow him to the other side of the building because it would be easier with our gear. When we arrived at the other entrance, I saw what Tom had meant. The door was at the top a flight of stairs, but he proudly showed us the ramp that they had built for bikers. After we wheeled our belongings up and in, Tom gave us a tour. What we thought was just a church was actually a three floor building with classrooms and lounges. We were told we could go anywhere and use anything with compete freedom. Upon entering the room where cyclists stay, it was obvious how much they love hosting. There was an entire table with hand written diagrams to the closest restaurants, a picture of the ferry that we will have to ride to Illinois tomorrow, journals for all the bikers to sign, and notes and signatures from people on the inaugural trip in 1976. It's apparent how much pride many of these communities take in being a part of a such a unique tradition like this. I'm always so overwhelmed by the kindness of those that take us in, but I'm also so thankful for all the cyclists that have come before us and have created these relationships with these incredible people and communities. I couldn't imagine doing this trip without the existence of these relationships with the towns that we've ridden through.
After rinsing off in the shower in the boiler room (it was clearly constructed soley for the cyclists that stay here), we went to dinner up the block. When we walked in, a woman sat up in her chair and remarked, "Oh, cyclists!" I was in basketball shorts, a vineyard vines tee shirt, and Adidas sandals, so I asked her how she knew we were biking. She quickly responded that they can always tell. We spoke a lot about a little until our perky waitress showed us to our table. The waitress looked around and leaned forward, resting her hands on the table. She whispered that the pizza was really good and that we should try it. I'm not sure why they'd want to keep that a secret, but I appreciated that she let us in on it. Although she had me curious, I wasn't feeling too adventurous; I really don't think I'm pretentious being from New York, but I may be a little when it comes to pizza. She asked us about our trip and became very excited when she learned that we started in Virginia. Apparently she had lived there for a bit and missed the views. She looked out the cafe's French doors with disdain and called Kentucky "nature's ashtray." I was a little taken aback by her dark but poetic line. There's not much you can say in response to that. Nature's ashtray- what a good line; I won't be using it, but I sure got a kick out of it. Well, tomorrow morning we are catching the ferry to Illinois and crossing Kentucky off the list. I am looking forward to using another mode of transportation other than a bicycle for a change.
Day 23 / July 22, 2015
As I sit here in my tent with soft and sporadic drops of rain falling, my thoughts are much more clear than the past few nights. We had been lucky with biker hostels recently, so this is our first time camping in about 150 miles. Not surpisingly, it's much easier for me to concentrate on my thoughts when we don't have "Deconstructing Harry" or "Bruce Almighty" as the background noise. I've grown accustomed to not having many distractions the past few weeks. Before this trip, the only time I wouldn't be playing on my phone or busy with something would be in the shower. Showering was the only time that I really allowed myself to think. I don't have much of an opportunity to do anything other than think these days, and I kind of like it. I haven't come up with any million dollar business ideas yet, but those will come. I'm pretty tired from our first day in Illinois, so I'm going to bullet out some thoughts from the day:
- We rode the ferry from Kentucky to Illinois this morning. Crossing the Ohio River lasted no more than 5 minutes. When we rolled down the ramp and into our third state, we found ourselves in a very pro-biker town. There were painted bikes used as decorations in front of stores and a few "Welcome Cyclists!" signs. We had a great first impression of Illinois.
- I (mostly) continued to like Illinois as the day went on. The roads are a little less narrow and there are considerably less Mountain Dew and Natty Ice cans thrown along the side of the road. The hills aren't as high as VA and KY, but they're definitely the steepest we've seen.
- I asked Chris if he feels like us being from New York causes us to look down on some food places like snobs sometimes. He said no and that we just had standards that we've come to expect. This conversation took place in a restaurant today that had seemingly run out of space for dishes in the kitchen. The counter had towering stacks of dirty plates lined four feet long. When we walked in, there were three empty tables that still had their plates and garbage there. When we left, there were five. Some of my favorite places to eat back home are on the dive side, but I would never expect to see something like that. Maybe health inspections are more casual here.
- I saw a few confederate flags today. I feel like that's a strange thing to see in Illinois.
- It's interesting to see what sports are big in each state. Everyone in Kentucky wore some kind of UK apparel, had UK mailboxes, and made an effort to fully rep the school that I doubt most of them went to. It didn't surprise me when the only ball I saw in the whole state was a basketball. Kentucky is obsessed with college basketball, so it made sense that it was the only sport people spoke about. We've only been in Illinois for a few hours, but I've seen a bunch of Cubs hats. At the dirty diner I mentioned earlier, the waitress and a patron were talking about a few summer league baseball tournaments. Illinois has more sport options thanks to Chicago, but it's been all baseball so far.
- After setting up my tent, I sat down at a picnic table to relax. A creamsicle colored cat walked over and tried to rub against me, but I shooed it away. I wasn't much in the mood to play with a stray cat. It walked to Chris' tent, paused, and decided to keep moving. When the cat was next to my tent, it turned back to look at me and, without breaking eye contact, began to piss on my rain flap. This cat reminded me of my first business idea: the kitten exchange. Disclaimer: if you're a cat lover, don't read. If you do read and get offended, I would sooner question you for liking cats than I would apologize. Anyway, the kitten exchange club was simple in theory; everyone loves kittens, not everyone loves cats. A kitten wouldn't maliciously piss on your tent, but a cat would. The idea was a subscription based club where you get a kitten and then, when it becomes a cat, you trade it in for a new kitten. Yes, I know what you're thinking: what do you do with the cats? If I had that solution, this club would exist already.
- Tomorrow's destination is Carbondale. I have a few packages coming in from my family and I don't know any of the contents, so I'm an
Day 24 / July 23, 2015
Today marked our first morning and last night in Illinois. Our stay here has been short and pleasant. On Day 2, we met a cyclist who said Missouri and Illinois were her two favorite states. My theory is that the short stay means there's not enough time to find negatives.
Our morning ride was nothing particularly noteworthy. We met two guys who were heading east. We asked how long they had been on the road, but the three weeks they spent in Boulder seemed to cloud their memory. We traded some recommendations for hostels and camping and went in opposite directions. It's a pretty cool experience to talk to people doing the trail; you rarely exchange names or really any personal information, yet you have a sense of understanding of each other that could only come from an experience like this. You'll never see them again, but that's ok.
About 25 miles from our destination of Carbondale, we stopped for a meal at Delancey's. I don't know what town we were in, but if any cyclists on the trail pass by a restaurant called Delancey's on Broadway in Illinois, go inside. The food was great, but the advice we got was better. The waiter told us a shortcut that would save us some hills and miles. He prefaced it by saying "Cyclists never take my advice and always say 'I have these maps,'" but Chris and I weren't so quick to dismiss the local advice. He could have ended up being someone who actually hated cyclists and was trying to send us on a terrible detour, but we trusted him and took his advice. We ended up shaving about 10 or so miles off and had a great ride into Carbondale, so I'm glad we listened.
By getting to Carbondale so early, we were able to drop off our bikes for tune ups and grab our mail and Sonic while we waited. On the subject of Sonic- I will give them credit for great marketing, but man is it overrated. They're smart with their advertisements; there are always Sonic commercials in the Northeast, but there are very few locations up there. You always want what you can't have, so this makes people think that they have to have it when they see an actual Sonic location. Once you have it, though, it's iust meh. I'll probably continue to fall for it each time I see a location, though.
We are staying at our first Warm Showers host tonight. Warm Showers is an app that connects cyclists with people that are willing to host them for the night (or at least just a shower). Our host signed up because she has been interested in doing the Trans America Trail, so she wanted to talk to people doing it in order to see what it's like. We were able to shower, do our laundry, hangout in an air conditioned room, and had a few beers with our host- all for free. I've thought about this for a few weeks, but homeless people should honestly just ride around on bikes. I'm not saying that insensitively- I actually mean it. We get meals paid for, showers, places to sleep- and why? As I've said in the past, we voluntarily decided to bike across the country. No one is forcing us to do it, but everyone we meet wants to help us succeed. The cyclist community is so helpful and altruistic that's it's a bit crazy when you really think about it.
The beer of choice tonight was Magic Hat #9. The underside of my cap read: "write your own future." All of the caps have positive calls to action (not like they're going to write "give up already"), but I still kept the cap. Writing my future is exactly why I decided to quit my job and bike across the country. I knew I wanted to have a more interesting chapter in my life than commuting to and from my desk everyday, so here I am. I don't know what is to come, but I'm the author deciding it.
Day 25 / July 24, 2015
I had initially thought that this morning would be our last one in Illinois, but I was wrong. It turns out that Chester is on the Illinois side of the Mississippi River. The day was sort of a blur and the one Porter I had with dinner hit me like an ambien, so I'm going to bullet out my thoughts and observations from the day:
- I wasn't planning on weighing myself until the final day, but the host last night had a scale and I was too curious to not check. I've lost 10 pounds so far. Shedding 10 pounds in 3.5 weeks isn't bad, but it's a little underwhelming when you consider that I bike 5-7 hours every day. I was expecting something more drastic, but hey at least I don't look emaciated.
- The trail had two route options today, so we chose the flatter one called the Mississippi Levee alternate route. Though I can't speak to how the other route was, I'd suggest everyone on the trail also take the alternate. For about 20 miles, we were riding on flat single lane roads that were surrounded by water on both sides. Sometimes biking through hours of corn fields makes me feel too land-locked and uncomfortable. Cruising comfortably with the flattest terrain, looking over each shoulder to see the water, and having Jack Johnson provide the soundtrack made it my most peaceful ride of the trip. I was so content. Of course that route led us directly to a 10 mile strip that had more MACK trucks than a street that allows cyclists should, but that's ok. The previous views made it worth it. I took some photos with my camera, but won't be able to upload them until we finally pass a place with wifi.
- That 10 mile battle with the trucks brought us directly into our home for the night: Chester, IL. After entering the city limits, we began to see images of Popeye the Sailor man all over. He was on the welcome sign and incorporated into every business' decorations. We had lunch at a fine local eatery called Subway and checked out a bakery across the street. While talking with the owner of the bakery, she explained why Popeye was such a big deal in Chester.
The artist who created Popeye, E. C. Segar, grew up in Chester; several of the characters were even based on people that Segar had known in the town. The baker continued her story and taught us that Popeye wasn't initially in the first comic; he actually didn't appear until almost 10 years later. The initial protagonist in Segar's stories was Olive Oyl, though her parents, brother, and boyfriend, Hamgravy, were recurring characters. With the immediate success of Popeye, Segar decided to cut some characters from the plot. There are statues of the characters all over town, but a mural was what caught my eye the most. It depicts Popeye and the characters that made the cut on a boat leaving Chester as those that Segar removed from the plot stayed on land and waved goodbye. The mural cleverly represents when E. C. Segar hit success and left Chester for either Hollywood or Chicago (we heard conflicting stories), bringing Popeye and a few friends with him. I never expected to learn so much about a cartoon from the '30s this summer, but towns like Chester are exactly what I was looking for when I set trail out of Virginia a few weeks back.
- We're staying at a hostel run by the Eagles. They're some type of group like the Knights of Columbus; their lodge (how did they not name it The Eagle's Nest? Come on, guys) is a full restaurant and bar. We got showers, bunks, and an AC, but I was even more jazzed that we were able to have a good meal, drink some cold beer, and sink some quarters into some old arcade games. Illinois has been very good to us- as we approach the hills and mountains of Missouri, we will be leaving on low gears and high notes.
- Tomorrow's ride will be a short 45 or so to Farmington, MO. We could go on to a further town, but there's a White Castle there and we won't want to move after splitting a crave case. With my birthday being Sunday and the Ozark Mountains starting with the beginning of the week, I'm going to campaign for a rest day there on Sunday. I don't really care what I do on my birthday, but I'd rather spend it on a couch than my bike.
Well, moving onto the 4th of 6 states tomorrow. That sounds pretty good, doesn't it?
Day 26 / July 26, 2015
Today, I experienced my first real sense of pride for something that we've accomplished in the past 26 days: we crossed the Mississippi River. I hadn't expected it to be a big milestone for me, but I haven't expected a lot of memorable things that have occurred on this trip (biking 35 miles in the wrong direction and paying a stranger to drive me to the correct town comes to mind). Like most boys, one of my favorite lessons in social studies was exploration- particularly the western front of America. With the Mississppi being an integral part of western expansion, my mind always automatically thinks back to my social studies lessons when I hear the river referenced. The river always seemed so distant when reading about it in old textbooks. Pedaling myself from the Atlantic to the river that had always been my favorite symbol of exploration and perseverance made me feel like I had accomplished a goal that 10 year old me would be very pumped about.
After crossing the Mississippi into Missouri, we had a nice mix of hills and flats to keep us from getting bored. The only complaint during the riding would be about the heat, but that's what we get for riding bikes through the Midwest at the end of July. We had two stops on our way to Farmington: a tiger sanctuary and a brewery.
While sitting in the shade in the parking lot of the tiger sanctuary, Chris looked at me and said, "You know, if you asked me at the bottom of that hill what would be up around the bend, a tiger sanctuary is not what I would say." We only pulled in to fill up our waters and cool off in the shade, but we were able to walk by the sanctuary and see a few of the tigers. I was a bit surprised by how muscular and large the animals were. I'm usually (over)confident when it comes to me thinking about what I would do in a situation. When I would hear about people getting mauled by tigers, I used to think I'd be able to outwit the cat or something if I had to. After seeing one about 10 feet away, yeah- I can be an idiot.
Our second stop was at the Crown Valley Brewery for lunch. I can admittedly be a bit of a beer snob, so I try to stop at every microbrewery that I come across. Craft beer can be funny- it takes drinking and makes it sound like a hobby. I had a local bison Reuben and easily the best shandy I've ever had. As we were getting ready to leave, a man named Brian and his wife Janine came over to talk with us. Brian had done the Trans America trail back in '09 (I always think all years post 2001 were recent, but then realize I had just graduated high school and the Yankees were about to win their most recent World Series in '09). They explained that the Trans America route changes slightly over the years, so an old route used to pass by within a block of their house. Brian bumped into a girl doing the trail and was hooked on the idea. He eventually quit his job (sound familiar?) and flew out to Oregon to do the trip West-East. One thing I regretted not asking was if Brian stayed at home when he passed nearby on the trail. I couldn't imagine stopping by for a pit stop at home for one night and having to go back out for another 3-4 weeks; that would be so brutal. Although our conversation was brief, it was definitely one of the best encounters we've had. Seeing the excitement and passion in someone that accomplished the whole trail is encouraging.
When we got to Farmington, we unloaded our gear and walked inside. Brian had mentioned that this was the nicest hostel on the trail; I thought maybe he was biased, but he was correct. The hostel is called Al's Place and it's a renovated jail that is cleaner and newer looking than any place we've stayed over the last 26 days. There are leather couches, bunks with fresh sheets, and central air. It looks more like a hotel suite than a cyclist hostel.
After showering, we biked over to a place that we had our minds set on since Yum mentioned it on day 10: White Castle. Back in New York, White Castles aren't always found in the nicest areas. We had one across the street from our high school on Fordham Road and the counter had bullet proof glass. When we got there, we agreed to split a crave case. We were feeling cocky, so we also got chicken rings. I got to 10.5 before I felt like I was going to throw up. I always say that my pride will be my downfall, but I was ok with admitting defeat here. I was fine with not finishing the case, but Chris refused to back down. He finished my last 4 on top of his 15, which brought his total to 19. I don't think either of us will be craving White Castle for a while.
Tomorrow is my 24th birthday and the only thing I want to do is nothing, so we are going to take a rest day. I'll be updating the photography on the site, so keep an eye out.
Day 27 / July 26, 2015
I don't usually pay much attention to my birthdays, but this one is different. I'm not surprised; it's been one hell of a year since my last one. For my 23rd birthday, my mom helped me pay for a camera that I bought from the photographer at my old company (thanks AT). In the past year, I've learned that photography and writing are two of my passions, while spending 4 hours a day commuting to my job was not. I wasn't happy with what I was doing, so instead of just going through the motions and complaining, I made a change. Here I am in Farmington, MO over one thousand miles from home, my family, and my girlfriend. I have no idea what will happen between today and my 25th birthday, but I find that oddly comforting. The predictable routine was what I was trying to escape, so I'm going to embrace the unknown.
I wanted a lazy day today, so I had one. The hostel we are staying at has a handful of dvds, so we watched cast away, the campaign, goonies, and are currently in the middle of the departed. I read off a few movie options to Chris and he chose the departed because, "(he) misses boston." I assume be meant the accents and scenery as opposed to the extreme violence. It's a solid choice (side note- the opening scene of Jack Nicholson's monologue is the greatest opening scene in any movie). The highlight of the day was when Brian and Jeneen (the couple we met outside the brewery yesterday) swung by. They brought us local cheese, sausage, and great conversations. I may be speaking too soon as we haven't crossed the Ozarks yet, but the Midwest has been the best part of the trip. The people are so down to earth and genuinely nice, the towns have been clean, there's less roadkill- everything about the Midwest has been great.
Brian and Jeneen had mentioned a frozen custard place less than a mile away, so I think I'm going to break my no movement pact and bike over. Thanks to everyone that has been with me on my ride for the past 24 years; I appreciate all the help I've gotten along the way.
EDIT: I was biking back holding the paper bag of frozen custard concretes for me and Chris. About a quarter mile away from the hostel, the bag broke and the plastic cups began to drip. I decided that the best course of action would be to walk my bike and hold the spilling cups against me. It's a good thing I actually wanted a medium when I ordered a large, because that's about how much was left. Though I absorbed the majority of the spillage with my shirt, shorts, and sandals, it was worth it.
Day 28 / July 28, 2015
Today wasn't a particularly tough riding day, but it felt extraordinarily long. We set out with bellies full of chocolate chip muffins from a Farmington cafe later than we should have, but at least we didn't have too much competition with Monday morning commuters. The heat was hitting down on us as soon as we opened the door and left the air conditioning. We weren't sure where we'd end up at night, but we knew our first destination was Johnson's Shut-ins State Park.
We had heard that the park had some sort of swimming section, so that was the only goal in mind when we set out this morning. Although I was there and sitting in it, I'll let Wikipedia explain what a shut-in (or at least this kind of shut-in) is: "The term 'shut-in' refers to a place where the river's breadth is limited by hard rock that is resistant to erosion. In these shut-ins, the river cascades in many rivulets over and around igneous rocks worn smooth over many eons. It is used by park visitors as a natural water park when the water is not so high as to be dangerous." It essentially looked like a fairly wide and relatively shallow natural bath tub with rocks everywhere. The water looked almost still, but there was one section where there was a current cutting through a row of rocks into a lower part of the river, so we decided to make our way towards that area. The rocks were extremely slippery, so we couldn't just walk. The water was too shallow to swim, so we were forced to walk awkwardly on all fours. We did bear crawls for anyone that recognizes that term from sports practices. I'm glad that no one was around, because we looked pretty absurd. I'm happy to report that sitting down in the water on a surprisingly comfortable formation of rocks as the current ripped past was worth the struggle of slipping and sliding there. After about a half hour, a family showed up. I think that they must have expected a bigger swimming section (just like us) because they triumphantly walked in with swim toys, floaties, and other swimming gear that required more than 6 inches of water. I climbed back towards the land before I could see their disappointed faces.
After leaving the park, we continued on to Centerville. Chris had been dealing all day with a tire that preferred to be flat, so we were hoping that Centerville would have a gas station with an air pump that would be more helpful than the hand pump he had been using. About 12 miles after leaving the park, we found ourselves in Centerville. There was an auto body shop at the city limits, so Chris was able to fill his tire and we hoped that the issue was resolved. We moved on the length of a few city blocks and were in the heart of downtown Centerville. I feel like if you're going to call yourself Centerville, you should offer more than a diner, a courthouse, and an auto body shop. I was expecting some kind of bustling town, but I was fooled. We looked it up on the map to see if they were the center of something geographically, but nope. Centerville duped us. The "campgrounds" turned out to be a lawn in front of a courthouse. There were no bathrooms, showers, or cell service, so we didn't feel too inclined to stay. We decided to bike to the next town of Ellington, which was about 15 miles away.
About 5 miles in, Chris' tire gave up again. We moved off the road and he began to fix the flat for the third time today. Shortly after, a family pulled over and asked if everything was ok. The parents were cyclists and knew how frustrating a flat could be. They offered to give us a lift, so we loaded up the car with Chris' bike and all of our bags. There was only room for one bike, but I was excited to be able to ride without all of my gear weighing me down. I was going to do that full 15 to Ellington if Chris hadn't gotten a flat, so there was no need for me to hitch a ride anyway. The family pulled away with Chris in the car and left me with the open road.
That last 10 mile stretch was incredible. The heat had started to break, my playlist didn't play any songs that I keep forgetting to delete because I'm so sick of them, and I felt (and actually was) about 45 lbs lighter without my bags. I pulled into the hostel in Ellington far before I expected. I'm hoping that the momentum carries forward into tomorrow. We are at the starting line of the dreaded Ozark Mountains. We've been hearing warnings about these since like day 5, but honestly who cares? There hasn't been an easy riding day yet. It may not be fun, but we'll get through them just like the 27 previous days.
Day 29 / July 28, 2015
By picking up some extra miles yesterday, we were able to focus on our one task today: crossing the hills of the Ozark Mountains between Ellington and Eminence. We had been hearing warnings about this ride for weeks, so we decided to have a good breakfast at a cafe in town. I was able to have an espresso for the first time in a month; it's the little things like that that make you feel like a human (A few weeks ago, we were in a Dollar General. It was our first store in a while that had aisles and wasn't attached to a gas station. Chris walked around grinning and said several times how something so simple like a Dollar General made him feel like a real person). There were a few Eastbound cyclists in the cafe that had just finished up the ride that we were about to embark on. They had set out at 4:45am; we hadn't even hit snooze on the alarm for over another hour at that point. They said several times that the ride was the toughest stretch they've had so far, but the fact that they had made the trip in such good time gave us hope. As we were pushing our plates away and grabbing our helmets to leave, a few of the group's slower members showed up. They were very emphatic that we had a rough morning ahead of us. Chris and I still shrugged it off; how bad could they be?
It turns out that the reports were greatly exaggerated. I'm not going to say that the stretch was easy, but I don't think I'd even put it in our top 5 toughest days. I actually had some fun doing it. It was kind of like riding a manual roller coaster. The hills were steep, but they weren't too tall. We went up and we went down over and over until the ride was done. I'm fairly sure I hit my top speed today on a downhill. Overall, I'd say the Ozarks were overrated. The heat was the hardest part of today. I'm not sure if it's because Eastbound cyclists have just come out of the flats that we are looking forward to, but the Ozarks have nothing on the Appalachians.
After accomplishing our goal, we rested. Today was apparently one of the hottest days of the year that Missouri is expected to have, so we didn't feel the need to push on to the next town. We are staying at a campsite that is situated next to a river, but the water is only about 6 inches deep. It was relaxing to sit in the glorified puddle and skip rocks, but I just want a river to actually swim in.
The general store that we are hiding out in is closing, so it's time to go back to our campsite. Tomorrow's ride is to Houston, MO. Relatively short mileage and only one big climb (or so they say), so it should be a good day.
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 / August 1, 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.
Day 37 / August 5, 2015
The constant thunder and lightning woke us up often throughout the night, but the 6am alarm kept us awake. There was a brief pause from the rain when we woke up, so we rushed to get out and get a few miles in before the storm continued. After a quick breakfast, we were ready to head out. Chris asked if I was "ready to bite the bullet?" As he asked that, a loud crack of thunder roared above us. We began cycling just before a comical amount of rain began to dump out onto us. It was like a scene out of an overly dramatic movie; if you were watching this from your home, you'd have groaned aloud because you thought the film crew went overboard on the rain as it was hardly a believable amount. We were trying to go on, but the wind began to push us across the road, so we pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned RV business and hid out under the awning. We had to wait almost 2 hours before we were able to go back out. So much for the early start.
After the storm for the first 15 miles, we had a dry remainder of the trip. We stopped in the town of Toronto so that Chris could mail some things home. While in the post office, he met an older woman that said she often hosted cyclists on the trail. When meeting hosts, you'll usually hear about people that you haven't met, but you feel like you have. There are many cyclist journals in restaurants, hostels, and general stores along the trail, so you often see the same names pop up. Some people will just sign their name, others will leave an inspirational comment, and a few people will draw sketches. The woman began talking about a group of 4 guys from Florida that stayed with her at the beginning of July. She said several times how much testosterone was bouncing off the walls when she had them over. Chris thought that these guys fit the description of a group that we see a lot in the journals called "the poo tang clan." They always leave wacky cartoons and mysterious sketches that have intrigued us. He was a bit embarrassed to ask, but he was pretty confident that it was them. I walked into the post office at this point and was able to see the excited smile come across her face as she said, "Yes! They were the poo tang clan!" I'll never forget the image of an older woman explaining how the guys came up with their group name. It apparently came from a combination of a lot of bowel movements and drinking a lot of tang. She also mentioned that they traveled with a French horn and other musical instruments. I have no idea who these guys are, but I wish we would have crossed paths with them.
Tomorrow, we will be biking 76 miles to Newton, Kansas and will be 10 days away from finishing our last biking day on this trip. Realizing that gave me a mixed reaction of excitement and anxiety. I am excited to see what my next step will be, but I'm anxious that I don't know where to begin. I always say that the uncertainty is part of the fun. I stand by that, but I do still like to have an idea about what my future holds. At this point, all I know is that we will be arriving in Pueblo, Colorado 8/16 and I will be flying a few days later to Houston, Texas for a trip with my girlfriend. I'll be back in NYC by 8/24 and have no idea what will be happening after that. I guess we will have to wait and see. Whatever I end up doing, I'm not going to settle for anything.
Day 38 / August 6, 2015
We're currently in Newton, KS staying at our third WarmShowers host. We had been hearing about the Newton bike shop hostel since day 10, but when I called today to reserve two cots, I was greeted by a voicemail saying that the bike shop and hostel would be closed until the 11th. That's ok- we are lucky to be staying with a wonderful family that took us (and two other bikers) in. The best part about the new arrangement is that the fellow bikers are going west! We have finally met people that are going in the same direction as us. This is the first time all trip that we've been able to talk to people on the trail and reference towns and talk about parts of the riding that we've all experienced in the same direction. The bikers are a married couple en route to Seattle, where they are moving to. They're riding on a tandem, which I can't get past. I love my girlfriend very much, but I couldn't imagine us riding a tandem bike across a park, let alone the country. I know she'll agree with me when she reads this, so I'm not afraid to admit that.
While sitting at the dinner table, I began looking around at the art work on the walls. The primary artists were the children of the family. There was a post-it on a pillar that caught my eye; it was a simple handwritten message that read, "Life doesn't get easier. You get better." I stared at it while passing the spaghetti because I was struck by the simplicity and truth. Today, we had our longest mileage of the trip (76 miles). We both agreed that it was one of our easier days, though. We have been tested many times on the road. We've been frustrated, overheated, tired, and sore, but we've continued on. We've grown and gotten stronger with each mile. I think that we will be showing up in Colorado better than when we left Virginia.
Day 39 / August 7, 2015
I am sitting comfortably in a recliner in the guest house of the Mayor of Nickerson, Kansas as I write this. I guess you can say we're staying in the Gracie Mansion of the Midwest. When I told my family where I was unexpectedly spending the night, they all had the same response: "Why am I not surprised?" I kind of expected that response; things usually have a way of working out for me.
My senior year of college, I lived off campus with three friends in a house on the Long Island Sound. When Hurricane Sandy hit our town in Connecticut, our house was rocked. The flood line settled along the door knob of the front door. Our university began setting students up with on campus students that had the space, dormitory lounges, and anywhere they could fit people. My roommates and I didn't know what we should do, but then I received a call from the Dean. I got to know the Dean fairly well over my four years there, but I was still surprised and (initially) disappointed to see the number pop up on my phone. When I picked up, I had no idea what the topic of conversation would be. I began coming up with excuses in my head for things I hadn't even done, but her call was of a different nature; she was wondering if my roommates and I would want to stay with the President of the university while our house was being drained and renovated. My roommates and I took maybe 30 seconds to deliberate before I said, "Absolutely." We lived with the President for several months and ended up building an incredible relationship with him; we still go out to dinner together every few months. I don't think I'll be coming back to the Midwest to do the same with the Mayor of Nickerson, but who knows.
When we arrived in Nickerson, we weren't sure where we were going to be staying. We would have been able to camp in the park, but the disgusting heat didn't make that option seem too great. It was fairly early when we got here, so we decided to hangout at a pizzeria.
After our second pie (they weren't that big...), a small giant sized man named Bo started talking to us from a few tables away. He said that he was also a traveler and that he was from Oklahoma. Bo had been training in Nickerson for the past week to become a minister. We talked about our trips and he asked where we'd be staying, which we answered with shrugs. He ran out to his truck and came back with a few numbers of people in the town that he had worked with, which included the Mayor and the pastor in town. He asked if we could pray together and he held our hands while saying a blessing over us. I was impressed by how quickly he was able to craft a great prayer tailored to us right off the top of his head. After finishing, he went to his table to resume eating and I stepped outside to call the number that I thought belonged to the Mayor.
I was greeted on the phone by an older man who didn't seem surprised by the nature of my call. I explained our situation and asked if there were any options for bikers in the town. He told me that I should talk to the First Lady (ok- he didn't call her that, but he should have) and passed the phone to his wife. She didn't ask any questions and gave us directions to their home. When we arrived, she was just finishing up giving a piano lesson to a student who "clearly hasn't practiced all summer." The Mayor and the First Lady were exceptionally nice and accommodating. They've actually hosted bikers on the Trans America since the inaugural year in 1976. I'd like to write more about our stay, but I'll have to make an addendum after the trip; we are waking up at 5am and I need my sleep. The heat is supposed to be brutal tomorrow, so we are hoping to beat it to our next town.
Day 40 / August 8, 2015
We fought the urge to snooze the 5am alarm and began to get ready for the day. It still takes us a while to gather our belongings and eat, so we needed the extra time. The First Lady of Nickerson was already up and preparing breakfast, so we sat with the Mayor and watched Sportcenter. We had pancakes, peaches, and eggs and were ready to start out on our 60 miles by 6:15am.
There's something special about rolling through a neighborhood as the sun rises. The cool air, morning fog, and quiet streets help create a positive attitude that carries through the whole day. We weaved through the corn fields and arrived in Larned, KS by 10:30am. Crossing the train tracks into town, we were surrounded by huge grain silos. The smell was reminiscent of the bourbon town, Bardstown. While scanning the businesses we passed by, we saw more boarded up windows than not. Tumbleweed wasn't blowing around, but the winds were filled with excess grains from the silos. We found a diner that we thought would be a good spot, but they were closing up. They gave us some biscuits on the house, which we really appreciated. It was only 10:40am at this point, but the heat was already intensifying. We continued our search for a hideout and came across a boutique/home decor/cafe combo store. I was able to have a few espressos and read while Chris was able to nap on one of the couches, so it was perfect. After a few hours, we left in search of food. We had forgotten that we left so early because of a heat wave and were greeted by the most intense heat and thickest air of the trip. Camping was no longer an option, so we found the cheapest motel that the town had to offer. Our neighbors are a bit more... weathered? than we've seen, but there's an AC, shower, beds, and a TV. We've been joining all of the single ladies watching ABC family's incredible Saturday movie line up (Parent Trap, Matilda, and Mean Girls), so I think we're a little happy that the weather forced us into the motel.
Tomorrow we have a bit over 60 miles to get to Ness City. Our friends on the tandem bike texted us that there's an ice cream shop that gives discounts to bikers, so we have our eyes on the ice cream.
Day 41 / August 9, 2015
As we were getting ready to leave the comforts of our budget motel this morning, Chris asked me if I wanted to be a "Breakfast Defector." If you haven't seen the commercials (I doubt that's possible), he meant go to Taco Bell. The meal wasn't bad, but I'm really tired of fast food. I plan on having pizza for my first meal when I get back to make up for Southern and Midwestern pizza, but I'm going on a fruit and vegetable binge after that.
The 60+ miles to Ness City felt very long today. I'm not sure if it was our breakfast or what, but we both couldn't wait for the riding to be done. About 13 miles in, we made our last turn on the trail for the rest of the trip. We will be following this one road to Pueblo, CO for the next 275 miles. Our friends on the tandem texted us saying to prepare for a boring ride, but I'm ok with that. We're in the home stretch and boring is welcomed.
Near the city limits of Ness City, there was a sign for a bank in the town, which was listed as an attraction and nicknamed "Skyscraper of the Plains." I wasn't disappointed when I saw the skyscraper; it was about 4 stories and smaller than my fairly short apartment building back home. Walking the streets of Ness City, I began to understand why they'd advertise the bank; "Modern day ghost town" may not draw as much attention. The town reminded me a bit of the stereotypical western town portrayed in movies. The only thing I'd say missing was a saloon with those swinging doors, but it's possible I just didn't look hard enough. The only open food option for dinner was a pizzeria, so we settled for one (hopefully) last experience with Midwestern pizza. The pizza wasn't too bad, but it was a little gross that every single table had garbage and dishes left behind from previous customers. After dinner, we just waked back to our motel and called it a night. There was a sign outside the motel listing the amenities and "clean rooms" was on it. I wouldn't have questioned the rooms, but seeing that made me a little uneasy. A motel using cleanliness as a selling point isn't a good look.
We move on for 50something miles to Scott City tomorrow. We're down to a hand's worth of days left of biking; we're officially in the home stretch.