Kathy and Roger's Excellent Adventure

Holy moly! What a @$%^ day!

2019-07-27T10:13:00.001-07:00

View from Chukanut

So here's the thing about bicycle touring: you can have both the absolutely best day AND worst day ever, all at the same time. The way it works is this: nobody transports you to the start of a spectacularly scenic route or challenging climb. Nobody picks you up and whisks you away to your hotel when the road surface deteriorates, or you hit huge traffic, or you have to cross a bridge riding on the sidewalk against traffic going 60 mph. You handle all that crap on your own. It's actually part of the appeal of touring; solving those problems and getting where you need to be is a source a great satisfaction and accomplishment. Doing it yourself is what touring is all about, after all. But . . . some days you can get just a little too much of all that.

Mt Baker, we think

Thus, we began our day with a sweet ride through the Skagit Valley. We had an incredible ride up and over Chukanut to Bellingham. We enjoyed coffee and the best pastries I have had (outside of France) in the cutest little coffee shop right there on the main drag. We passed through one charming, vibrant little coastal town after another. We even stopped for fresh cherries at the last intersection before the border. The weather was fine, winds were favorable. We were making good time and this day, like yesterday, was on track to be one of the great days on a bike you remember forever.

One of touring's sweet rewards

And then, following our crossing into Canada, we began a four hour descent through the cycling world's seven levels of hell, and the day became one of those you will always remember, but for different reasons. First, we lost our guidance system (map got funky due to our data plan issues); got lost (multiple times); got hangry (I told Roger I had to stop to eat something but it was really about him); got hot (nothing to do about that but dump water on ourselves).

Your route might be off-road

Traffic was CRAZY (we were in city driving at rush hour for 35 miles); we had a deadline (we were planning to meet an old fried for dinner); and THERE ARE HILLS EVERYWHERE (oh Lord, not another one to climb!)

I mean, with 7+ hours in the saddle, and within 10 km of the end, you do not want to face a 10% grade on a 200 foot climb. If you are riding in the Tour de France, I understand that comes with the job. But c'mon - is there no way around this hill? Apparently not. Vancouver is built on the rocky hills and ridges left by the glaciers. It's all up and down.

Photo does NOT do it justice. We walked this one.

By the way, did I mention that we also had to contend with the data conversion from meters to miles? Because of course, once we were able to get a map and route refresh (thank God for McDonald's and their universal WiFi system!), all the route keys were in kilometers. But my Garmin was running miles, so I had to do the math to figure where our next turn would be. If we missed something and got off course, it tried to recalculate the route, which it couldn't seem to do because of the data plan, and thus everything froze up, and we had to find another McDonald's. (Fortunately there seems to be one every few miles up here.)

We did at last make it in to our hotel, after 88.3 miles and about 7 1/2 hours. That's more than we thought it would be, and way harder than we'd anticipated. Our dinner with Elliott and his daughter was great, and we were happy to have a nice bed to sleep in. Most importantly, we knew that we had nothing to do the next day! Roger said, "I don't know how I can ride that bike in another day!" But of course we will. A day spent resting and refueling, and we'll be fine.

Done!

Mount Vernon to North Vancouver, 88.3 miles

3647 feet climbing, 11.7 mph

What a great day!

2019-07-25T21:40:00.000-07:00

How could a day that begins like this be bad?

We headed out from Gaye and Ben's house about 7:40 this morning. It was crisp, and cool, and the weather today just couldn't have been more spectacular. Until after our lunch break, it was super - and even then, when it began to get warm, it was still cool as we passed through the shade. Just a perfect day on the bike.

A big part of our day was on two spectacular bike trails. In Seattle, we rode the Burke Gilman trail from the University all around to the north side of Lake Washington and beyond. It was busy with cyclists, walkers, runners and commuters - a fine example of the adage: if you build it, they will come. What a fabulous public amenity. I considered one of the interesting ironies of our age: what would once have been a terrible impact on one's home value (i.e., a train running through your back yard) is now transformed into a great property value booster: proximity to a 15 mile trans-city bike path linking you to everything! All the neighborhoods we rode through looked interesting and appealing to me, whether modest or spectacular. Shops and cafes were everywhere. Even in a city where winter weather can be cold and rainy, cycling connects communities. It was exciting to see.

Then, we spent about 25 miles on the Snohomish County Centennial trail. It's also a former rail corridor, and it keeps cyclists off the main roads. Great views, perfect surface, lots of pull-outs for picnic tables, parking every few miles. It was full of runners and riders, miles into the county.

Places that invest in trails like these see a benefit. Look at all bikes lined up at this eatery!

And lastly, Seattle has lots of twisty roads through lovely neighborhoods. To keep speeds down, many of the intersections have planters, like the one below. Great idea to both beautify the street, and slow the cars racing through.

Well, I will find that photo later. In the meantime, here's Roger.

Seattle to Mt Vernon, 80.5 miles
Climbing, 2760 ft
Avg speed, 12.1

So, how's that working for you?

2019-07-24T21:51:00.002-07:00

Hah! Obviously, not so well. Here I am, 5 or 6 months later, and I still have not put any of my other stories into place. But I do think about it, and I am about to get on a bike again, and that seems to be the thing that inspires me, and so here goes . . .

We are now on stage 7 (or maybe 8) of a multi-activity, multi-state, multi-focused adventure. Roger and I left home over a week ago to visit with Dana and the girls, driving to Tahoe to see them in a summer theater production. Then, after just a day's visit, we took the girls with us to Texas to meet their extended family on my side (including a whole passel of cousins.) That leg in itself included driving down to Waco to visit with Mom and Dad - the girls great-grandparents - before spending the better part of a week at my sister's home north of Fort Worth. Flying back to Reno, we returned the girls to their mom and then drove up to Seattle, where I write this. Tomorrow, we'll head off on the tandem to Vancouver, where we will meet up with Mark Friis for another great Wheeltales tour through the San Juan Islands. Then, of course, we'll have to get ourselves home again. We figure to be away for at least three weeks.

Before we left home, I had to gather our biking and camping gear and get it over to Mark to come in the van from Redlands. With us, we needed clothes for Tahoe, and then the Texas leg of our trip. I had made jam from our plums and apricots, and was carrying that, plus fresh lemons, for my mom and sisters. Back in Tahoe, I sorted and repacked, moving the rest of our gear and clothing into the bottom of the suitcases so that we'd have what we needed for the bike portion of our trip ready at hand. Now I am stuffing the panniers, hoping to balance the small load of items we have needed all along and therefore couldn't send from home with Mark.

Clothes and gear on us, packs and panniers ready to load

I am looking forward to getting on the bike tomorrow and pedaling away towards Vancouver, in no small part because once we head off, we are GONE. Whatever we have with us, we've got. If I have forgotten something, too bad. And that is one of the really beautiful things about touring. I can't remember if I have ever written about this before, but it's truly a wonderful thing. You have what you have. If you need something, you figure it out, but you just can't take it all with you, so you don't. You get to leave a lot behind. We don't do that very often in our lives. Turns out it's very liberating, and I can't recommend it enough.

Put this back in the car - for later!

So here's to leaving *most* of it all behind, and following the open road. I'll write if I can.

A different discipline

2019-02-08T23:03:00.002-08:00

Sometimes this stuff keeps me up at night.

I might talk with a bunch of people about ideas, and I'm often composing things in my head during the day when I am around others. But I can't actually write unless I'm on my own. It's hard to concentrate enough to put a sentence together - so I find that I'm not very successful if I'm in a room full of other people. I tried that once or twice during my Makers' group (when my creative friends get together to work on our projects), and it was just a bust. It took me the full four hours to compose one essay, and I don't believe I've ever even gotten back to the blog to post that one. So what is the point of this post? What has kept me up tonight? Well, I want to answer one of the questions that we got frequently during our trip and that we continue to get now that we've completed our journey.

"How did we do it?"

"How did we find the motivation to continue on the trip when we ran into obstacles?"

"What kind of problems did we run into and how did we keep going for all those months?"

Maybe that's a couple of questions, but I think it's really just one. And it's one that Roger and I both struggle to answer, because the simplest thing to say is, "we always had a plan B." We knew if we had to, we could ship the bike home. We even joked from time to time about shipping the bike to France, where I could make up the blog by using Internet resources to find and post photos and do research about the places that we would have been riding through had we been back in the States!

That was never a very real option for us, but it illustrates the degree to which our resources provided us with opportunities. We didn't have to do this trip - it was our choice - and we didn't suffer while we were doing it. In fact, Roger on this last leg just a couple weeks ago made the observation that we really had not had to "rough it," as he put it. This wasn't the first time he'd said that. It came up frequently on our trip. And every time this topic came up, I had to laugh. Maybe he had some romanticized notion about the hardships we'd endure as we traveled the country, but I told him multiple times that at the age of 58, I wasn't really interested in sleeping in a ditch! I didn't have any driving desire to experience some incredibly raw and taxing hardship or deprivation just to continue on this journey. That's not why I did it. I'm old enough, and well enough set in my ways, that I enjoy my creature comforts. I was interested in the trip and I wanted to experience every day as fully as possible, but I don't feel the least bit deprived because we never had to camp on the side of the road! Although we did have some discussion about whether that might be how we would cross the desert and complete this final push. And I carried an extra water bladder for 6 months in the expectation that I might need to fill it so that I could sleep in the desert off the side of the road. But we'd sent our camping equipment home before reaching Kingman two years ago. We figured to just blast across the long stretch and make it to the hotel in Ludlow - no camping. So there wasn't going to be any sleeping off in the desert the first time around. And the second time around, of course, we knew it would be really, really cold if we tried that, and we weren't planning to do so.

So, when I think about how I would respond to that question, what actually comes to mind is not how I found motivation to ride my bicycle everyday. That was fun and that was why we were there. That's what we set out to do. What actually impresses me the most about my own journey is that I found the discipline to maintain my blog, night after night, for six months. I kept that going because I really couldn't sleep if I didn't put my stories down everyday. It really was kind of a need in me, something that I had to do in order to make room the next day for the new experiences that we were going to have. And since returning home, there have been so many times that I have wanted to tell more of my story, to try and at least keep up with the things that were happening as we tried to get back out there and finish the ride. And yet - months would pass and I wouldn't write a thing!

The most telling example of this is in the drafting of this particular post.

I had it in mind nearly 2 years ago. I often composed parts of it in my head, without writing them down, and finally one day last August when I was visiting my brother in Texas, I drafted what comes next and sent it to myself. I had a very strong desire to get it into the blog last fall so that I could post some catch-up stories before we actually got out there and finished the last run. And yet - I came home from Greg's house without posting the draft . . . and fall passed, and Christmas came and went, and then the first week of January . . . and I still hadn't gotten that draft posted.

Yet when we did the ride itself, I managed to record each night of it! I didn't have the computer - just my phone. But I wrote each evening before going to bed, capturing the events, thoughts and feelings of the dayl But before that part o the trip - nothing. And since the trip - nothing! Nearly a month has passed since we got home, and finally here I am, trying to put this to bed. It's 2:30 in the morning. And I'm sitting in the living room dictating this to my phone, with the anticipation that I'll get upstairs at some point tomorrow and flesh it out and find that second part that I wrote at Greg's, and put it all together and post it. But I don't know that I'm actually going to find the discipline to do it and that's ultimately what this post is about. We did this trip which many people view as an amazing accomplishment. They respond to our adventure with a sense of awe about how we mustered our will and found the motivation and determination to carry on. And I'm here to tell you -- taking a big chunk of your life to go do something specific like the bicycle trip we took, is nothing compared to harnessing your discipline to deal with something like this blog in the midst of the life that we all live everyday.

Perhaps it's best to just say it's a different kind of discipline. It requires setting aside the things that fill our lives every day when we are actually working, or caring for a home, or engaged in our communities, looking after children, visiting with family or friends, or taking care of obligations. Even keeping up with friends on social media, or trying to pay attention to the news, or enjoying a program on the television consumes time in our lives every day. We have to prepare meals, we wash our clothes, we clean our houses. If you are off on some great adventure, you don't do many of those things. If you have decided you're going to ride 50 to 60 miles everyday, then that's what you do. But you're not being distracted by committee meetings or sweeping up the kitchen or emptying the dishwasher. You ride those 50 miles because you don't have anything else to do!

I have at least half a dozen topics that are part of my story that I haven't written about yet, because I have not developed the discipline to get myself at the keyboard to capture those thoughts, to craft them, to edit myself, to find a photo, and to publish the post. I have a thousand reasons everyday why I don't do it. And if there's anyone reading this post that wonders whether or not they could take a trip like we did, whether or not they could ride a bicycle 10,000 miles - the answer is: sure! Anybody who has the time to spend and the financial resources to be away from their "real life" for a couple of months could do what we did. Because it's the real lives that we live that are so amazing to me. Taking a 6 month vacation - how could any of us fail at that?! It's how any of us manage to accomplish anything at all given all the demands on our time while we're just doing what we do to "live" is the real mystery.

How did I feel about all this a couple of months ago, when I penned the following at my brother's house? Read on.

On multiple occasions, both while we were on our journey and afterwards, I've been asked by people, "how did you do that?" Since I am usually standing right in front of the questioner, I can be pretty sure their focus is a question about how we got up every day and rode a bicycle for 50 to 60 miles. I mean, if that's not what they're interested in, they'll correct me as I begin to respond.

So I have been able to reply that we didn't consider it a burden, but rather an opportunity. Throughout our trip I usually experienced a real sense of freedom as well as luxury, perhaps something akin to the freedoms one might have experienced at the age of 20 taking a three-month backpacking trip across Europe. Make no bones about it, Roger and I understood that we were essentially on a six-month vacation. Who gets to do that? So it wasn't all that difficult, once you wrap your head around the idea that you're going to take a long vacation and spend it riding a bicycle, to recognize that everyday you're going to get up and ride your bicycle!

Granted, there were days when we were very tired. There were days when we looked at the weather or the terrain ahead of us and recognized it was going to be a very difficult day. But that's kind of like the joke about fishing. A bad day fishing is better than a good day in the office. If what you enjoy is fishing, then it is the act of fishing, including the challenges of finding the right spot, the right lure, the right casting technique, that turns you on. Those are the things that bring you joy. You also have a lot of joy when you bring in some nice fish, but there are people who fish all day and put the fish back in the water. So it's the accomplishment of having done what you set out to do that brings you the deepest joy and satisfaction.

Moving our bicycle, ourselves, and our stuff around the country for six months felt like that to me. There was comfort in the routine, even as there was recognition that each day would bring something different - some new puzzle to solve, some new crisis to avert, some disaster to remedy. My appreciation for Roger's MacGyver skills grew weekly! There wasn't anything we experienced that he was unable to fix. I myself got very handy with needle and thread, and made repeated repairs to our jerseys, our bags and our equipment. Duct tape and zip ties became our best friends! And so we made it around the country, stopping only when we were forced to by the accident that ended our trip.

We are trying to get back to Kingman to finish our trip. It's more than symbolic. We both feel a deep need to complete this broken circle. It is hard to believe that it will be 2 years soon since our accident. One of the advantages of having shared aspects of our trip through Facebook is that I often get a reminder of our time on the road from those silly "remember this?" postings that Facebook brings back to you. I know from those that we were at Ashokan Family Camp about 2 years ago. Soon we'll be traveling through Tennessee and making for the Natchez Trace. By September we'll be approaching Texas and our visit with friends and family there. And the largest part of October will include our trip back along Old Route 66. Good times for sure! And bittersweet also. I know this because I got to relive all of it last year when the memories were just one year old.

So, what is this different discipline? What do I mean by that? Well, the first discipline is just sticking with the task, in this case a monumental one perhaps, and doing something everyday because it's what you set out to do. But that's the easy part! The harder discipline, it turns out, is managing what happens in your real life. Taking care of all the stuff that needs to be done when you maintain a home, or have a job, interact with friends or raise a family. Anybody, and I'm pretty sure I mean anybody, could take a 6-month vacation and do exactly what they want for half a year. Really, where's the challenge in that?

The challenge comes in just living your life and in that frame of reference, accomplishing anything at all! As an example, examine my own efforts. I have wanted to continue my tale. I have any number of stories to tell about our path back to Kingman over the last two years. To my mind, those stories may be more compelling, may be more inspirational, than the story I could tell about how we played for 6 months. And yet, I have not been able to find the discipline to put myself in front of the computer and capture my thoughts. My days are so full with the mundane activities of life in this time and place that I haven't been able to break through that detritus and do something very simple that I figured out how to do almost every day for 6 months running. With pictures! So I'm struggling to get the wheels turning again.

I'm going to give it my best shot. I'm going to try and go back through the things that have happened in the past year-and-a-half and bring my story up-to-date. I want to try and capture what happened after the glory of the bike ride. Because in the past two years, roughly, Roger and I have had had two bicycle accidents. I fell, and broke my wrist, prompting a later need for surgery to correct carpal tunnel syndrome that flared up in my recuperation. I've had a trigger finger release surgery (and need another one!). Roger has had another bicycle accident of his own. I was diagnosed with sleep apnea and AFib. I began a new career, teaching at the University. All this! In two years! To be honest, the accumulation of these injuries and illnesses make me question how we ever made it around the country on a bicycle! But we did, and we're going to go out there and finish the trip despite these setbacks. It's just taking so long! And in the middle of those accidents came recuperation, recovery, training to ride again, and finally - joy on a bicycle. That was a long time coming, but it did come back. And I'd like to celebrate that as well as lay out what this part of the journey has been like.

So buckle up. If you're interested in the story, they'll be something more to read. My hope is to clear my mind of all these things that I keep feeling like I have to capture. My hope is to be able to discover that discipline that I was able to exercise during our trip until I manage to tell the rest of the story.

Day 197, Part 3: There's no place like home

2019-01-12T20:47:00.000-08:00

Traveled the country, but hard to find a more stunning sight

While we were visiting with our friends, the rains ended, the rainbow came out, and we were able to change into dry clothes and enjoy a dry but cold ride home.

What a beautiful day it turned out to be. What an excellent adventure it was!

Apple Valley to Redlands, 63 miles

Day 197, Part 2: Escape!

2019-01-12T20:40:00.000-08:00

Heading through the pass

Roger made a comment at one point while we were riding through San Bernardino. We really hadn't had anything too much to deal with on this trip, so riding home through a pounding rain was just about par for the course. We had to have something to overcome!

The trip through the Cajon Pass was not quite as awful as I feared it would be. We had a lot of room on the shoulder, and it was not raining when we started down. Plus, trucks are supposed to go 45 miles an hour and they are in the lane adjacent to the shoulder. So we had a little bit of a buffer from the faster moving cars in the main line of traffic. Even so it was dicey, (probably the scariest 30 minutes of our entire trip) and I was extremely relieved when we were able to get off at Cleghorn and conclude our trip on the old portion of Route 66 that winds through the canyon. It's kind of amazing to realize that there's such a beautifully scenic portion of that old route right here in my own backyard!

Old Route 66 through the Cajon Pass

We got rained on a couple of times, but were mostly able to dry out in between the sprinkles until we approached the San Bernardino Airport. Then the sky just opened up on us! We were soaked! The clouds were incredible. We almost never see storms like this here in this part of the world.

Weather's coming

And then we arrived! We had lots of friends who came out to greet us and welcome us home. The newspaper was there to take some pictures and they've published a story in our local paper. It was fun, and wonderful to feel the accomplishment of reaching our town.

Soggy, but safe

But we were not yet home . . .

Day 197, Part 1: McDonald's Ho!

2019-01-12T10:43:00.001-08:00

It was comforting when we left this morning to not be in the rain. We pulled out from Anita's house after our goodbyes at about 7:40. Just a few minutes later, at 7:52, the first couple of drops fell on my jacket. But this is the part of the world where a rain forecast might be five hundredths of an inch in an hour, and we made it another hour and a half before having any problem with the drops again.

Anita and Archie

There were even brief moments with sunshine, causing our hopes to rise. But as we got higher up, we ran into the rain. It's just a slight rain falling now at about 3,900 feet. Roger needs to charge his Garmin watch! So we pulled into a Starbucks, where we are watching the weather and hoping for a brief break.

Not looking good

We nearly fell over getting into the parking lot. He came at it with a little bit too much angle, and it was very slick, and it had one of those bumps, and the bike truly did tip over but we both pulled our right legs out and caught it before we fell! Crazy.

Anyway, with the weather being even worse on the other side of the pass, no one is coming to meet us at the McDonalds. So we're spending a little bit more time here, making this our stop. That way we won't have to get off once we are on the interstate. We'll just stay on through the two exits until we can get off at Cleghorn. No McDonald's for us!

Joshua tree

Day 196: Morning, noon, night

2019-01-11T20:51:00.004-08:00

How about that?

7 am: I'm getting anxious about these last two days on the road. Apprehensive about going through the Cajon Pass, and weather could be a factor. At the same time I'm becoming nostalgic for the end of our trip. I asked Roger this morning when we were having a sip of coffee in the room what his thoughts were. He said, "I'm ready to be home." I agree! Even though we've only been riding for a couple of days, through some kind of magic I feel like we've picked up all the road wear of the six-month trip that brought us here. My face is puffy, I'm windburned and sunburned, my legs are aching, and I'm getting sore in the saddle. I just need to make it two more days!

The bottle tree place along the road

2.30 pm: We're just chilling out for a little bit, having a coffee and waiting for a text from our hostess before heading over to her home for the night. We made it in to Apple Valley without any problems. Although, the last stretch of the road coming into town was pretty dicey. There's really no shoulder. And for some reason, way more cars are on the road on this Friday than we expected. They did give us plenty of room though, and for that I am thankful. The portion of 66 that we traveled today is kind of gritty. That's a word we use for places that aren't particularly scenic, or have other attributes that make you shout out for joy!

We think these are the radioactive waste cars

For instance, this section of Route 66 has a concrete plant, an electric switching station, some run-down ranches, little houses off the road that barely look weather tight, and trains! Boy, are there trains! We even saw some that we recognized from yesterday by the graffiti on them. They didn't travel any faster than we did for the last 24 hours!

The last bike shop?

Roger made a comment as we approached Victorville. He said, "you know, we could get home today." Given the time of day, I'd say that was technically possible, although it would have required riding through the Cajon Pass in the teeth of the rush hour. No way I'd have done that! Besides, there's a certain symmetry associated with staying tonight with the woman who had agreed to host us when we were headed home two years ago. Our first night out on our journey we stayed with a Warmshowers host, and I was anticipating doing that on our last night also. It's really, really cool to be with people who understand why we have done what we have done. They understand it, because they enjoy this pursuit themselves. I wasn't willing to give that up, and I'm so glad that Anita was available to host us this time around.

We stopped in a bike shop to get a spare tube and master link, just in case we have trouble tomorrow. Last bike shop visit for this trip? Let's hope so! Kathleen of Apple Valley Bikes was very helpful.

I gave my mom and dad a call, and let them know we were okay. They're pretty excited for us also. I'm starting to get a little bit emotional about the prospect of actually finishing this trip.

Looks cold over there. Where we're headed.

8:30 pm: We are headed to bed after a nice supper and a bottle of wine, sharing stories with our host, Anita. Clean laundry for the final day, with a spare set for changing out in case we're wet when we arrive at the brewery. At this time, only one of our friends has indicated he'll be at the McDonald's to ride us in, and he's kind of crazy! Forecast is for rain and temps around 40. Shades of Oregon! Should be epic. I may fall apart before we get there. Coming in to Anita's house, I was starting to feel like I might cry. I hope I can hold it together tomorrow.

Barstow to Apple Valley, 44 miles.

Day 195: Desert Stories

2019-01-10T21:13:00.002-08:00

Michael, of Erin Brockavich fame

Everyone has a story. As we traveled, I always enjoyed chatting with folks to get their stories. Desert people tend to have really good stories, for some reason. Today, we met Michael when we stopped in at the Bagdad Café. He has been out in the desert for many years, but has only worked at the Cafe for 23 weeks.

The Bagdad Café is the name of a movie staring Jack Palance. Michael said it was the winner of the Cesar for best foreign movie. (Note: no fact checking for this story). We asked if he'd seen it (neither of us have), and he said it had put him to sleep. Moved kind of slow, I guess. Anyway, it was set at this café, which is right on Route 66 and has become a must-see for tourists, particularly from Europe. A couple of French girls were there, taking selfies and posting their photo on the wall. Another couple from France had just left. The place was plastered with stickers, business cards, signed bills, and photos posted by fans.

Momentos everywhere

But Michael's story is not about the Café. His story is about Erin Brockavich. The movie, not the person. Seems he was an extra in the film. Two scenes, I think he said. You can catch him in the scene "9 months later" when he walks over to the barbecue to get a piece of chicken. He is a tall, pretty distinctive- looking guy, so I figure some late night when I am channel surfing, I will catch the end of Erin B and there he'll be, getting his fourth piece of chicken! (There were four takes, he said.)

And so it goes, in the desert. You never know who fate, or Julia Roberts, will smile upon! The other guy we met at the café, Zak, sells souvenirs and tchotkes to the shops along Route 66, who sell them to the tourists. Thus helping to keep the little places alive. His real claim to fame, though, is his sprinter van. He said it had 471,000 miles on it!

Zak and his 471,000 mile van

Next to that, the Silver Queen is just a piker. But she's holding up well, our Ship of the Desert. Better than we are. Roger and I are both whipped. We can't help but feel that this leg of the trip would have been easier for us when we were in arguably the best shape of our lives, having completed 6 months of daily riding.

Kathy and the Silver Queen

We actually met some other tourists today. I did not expect to see anyone, but John and Robbie were headed east as we went west. They stayed a night with Anita, the Warmshowers host we'll stay with tomorrow. We were happy we were not headed their way!

John and Robbie

Ludlow to Barstow, 53 miles. Most of it into the wind.

Day 194: When bridges are Outlawed, only Outlaws will cross Bridges

2019-01-09T20:29:00.000-08:00

Scoflaws that we are, we went right on

Well, live and learn. We thought it would be more comfortable camping at Fenner than Amboy, and maybe it was. We can't know, since we didn't stay both places. But what we do know is that the Fenner Oasis is right by the BNSF rail line, and those trains are going through just about every 5 or 10 minutes. The government may be shut down, but by golly -- the trains are running! Plus, the trucks come and go all night. And the gas pavilion is lit up like day. Thank goodness I had a knit cap to pull down over my eyes. And as it turned out, I was cold enough that I never got up to use the bathroom, so that advantage evaporated also. I DID really enjoy my burger last night though, and the breakfast sandwich this morning was great. So who knows? If we come again, we'll try Roy's in Amboy next time.

Speaking of which, they were great. Manny, the manager, was headed off site but saw us ride in and turned around to say hi and welcome us. Farrell, who runs the register, was just as nice as he could be. We had a bag of chips and a soda, filled our bottles, and enjoyed a chance to chill out for a few minutes at this iconic stop. Sure would love to see them bring it back.

Farrell has 40 acres in the desert he'll sell you

We had no trouble riding through the closed section of the road. I counted 37 bridges in the dead zone. About 7 of them are outright done. But there are gravel passages to walk around, and we got through with no problem. They're not kidding about the bridges, though. These guys are in serious trouble. Best we could tell, two have been redone. No sign that anyone is working on the others. (Maybe the shutdown?) Locals say that no one will bother the cyclists, but if you drive in and get caught, you'll be ticketed. I guess that's the advantage of bike transit.

This one's toast

Speaking of the shutdown, we met Paul at the Oasis. He is a government employee, and had planned a vacation prior to the shutdown. He's now just furloughed until it ends, so trying to decide how close to home he should be - just in case he gets an order to return to work immediately. It was interesting to hear some of his thoughts on how this mess might get concluded.

The desert was beautiful today. We had our first full-on sunny day, and by mid-afternoon we had to stop to remove our final inner layers of clothing. More than once, we commented on how we would not want to be doing this ride in 100 degree heat. (Or 106, as was forecast for the week we initially planned to come.) I don't think I could have done it. I would have had to stop every ten minutes. Even today, when my Garmin said it was 79, I felt a little wonky a couple times. So here's a big Thank You! to our friend Vicky, who said that I should not expose myself to that heat, particularly in such a remote location.

So quiet and beautiful

We're headed to Barstow tomorrow, then Victorville and then home. Today, peeking over the closer range, we could just see snow-capped mountains. Probably the San Bernardinos, or maybe Baldy. But here's the thing: We are going to be riding toward that range for three days! That's what sets bike touring apart. You have a chance to truly appreciate a destination - since you can see it on the horizon for days!

There's not a lot in Ludlow, but the cafe is excellent

68 miles yoday. Fenner to Ludlow.

Day 193: A slight change of plans

2019-01-08T16:27:00.001-08:00

There's a whole lot of open road out here

One of the coolest characteristics of bike touring is that it's all about flexibility. You do what you expect to do as long as you still want to do it - or you are able. If the circumstances change, or perhaps you wear out sooner than you thought you would on a given day, or maybe you feel great and decide to keep riding further than you expected to - it's all good. You're in charge, so you decide.

The Fenner Oasis

And thus it is that we decided to pitch our tent with the good folks at the Fenner Oasis, rather than continuing down the road to Amboy. A couple of factors played into this decision. First, this was a day that felt long enough by the time we stopped for lunch. We didn't go all that far, but we began by climbing a very long gradual grade and we were tired. The first 25 miles or so was uphill, with a snappy little head wind to boot. It was beautiful, remote country - we pretty much had it all to ourselves - but after riding toward this little rise on the north end of the Piute Mountains for two long hours, I was pretty done. I was really looking forward to reaching Goffs, where the road tipping south and tipping down were both deeply anticipated. That gave us a bit of a tail wind, (whoohoo - we hit 20 mph!) and allowed us to reach Fenner just before lunchtime.

Second, they have a grill here, which means that we can have a hamburger for dinner instead of carrying one of the cold sandwiches to Amboy to eat later. For some reason that seemed like a really good idea!

You are here!

Third, the Oasis is open all night, which gives us access to a real restroom. That's not a bad thing. While the idea of camping at Amboy has been part of my mythic anticipation of this part of the trip for several years, I really am NOT sorry at all to substitute my cozy little tent here for a cozy little tent there.

Home sweet home

And last, in the morning, we are assured of coffee here. Plus something to eat before we head out, maybe even something warm!

We will still go through Amboy; in fact I have corresponded with the manager there to let him know we'll stop in for a snack tomorrow. We just aren't going to stay there overnight. So I will get to post a photo of that iconic sign out in the middle of nowhere, never fear.

Creosote bush

The only downside to ending our day so early is that we don't really have very much to do. Roger and I took a walk over towards the highway to check out the road for tomorrow, and we sat in the convenience store watching an episode of Chip and Joanna's show. But it's just now getting to be four o'clock. It's too early to eat dinner, and until the sun goes down we can't hope to fall asleep! So that's the trade off: you keep pedaling because it's what you're here for, or you stop because your bottom side can't take anymore! And then you just end up sitting around anyway.

39.5 miles today, at 10 mph. Climbing 2267 feet.

Piet Mondrian in the desert

Day 192, Take 2: Two years, two months, and one week late

2019-01-07T20:09:00.001-08:00

We're pretty tired. I'm busted, in fact. But we've done it - got over Sitgreaves Pass and made it back over the Colorado River to enter California - just a couple of years behind schedule! It was a gray day, and pretty cold. But I will confess that it's possible it was not just the cold that made my eyes water as we got underway. Bob and Norma followed us just down the road a bit, and snapped our picture in the spot where we'd ended our tour two years ago. I was happy to ride away from that spot this time.

The starting descent I was concerned about was not that big a deal, but it's the case we were never "too warm" today. We started out with all our layers, and though we shed some for the climb, we put them back on after lunch in Oatman and even then, Roger was freezing for the descent.

Fabulous scenery on the climb up

This is a spectacular pass. It was fun to imagine the early motorists chugging along the road. What must they have thought as they crested each turn and viewed the savage landscape opening before them? A local said they call it "the sidewinder" - with 192 switchbacks over the top to Oatman. We're not sure about that, but if you are counting the changes of direction, maybe so. It does twist and turn through the rising buttes. Even in the gray morning, it was beautiful.

Once over the top, you descend into Oatman, an old mining town. The donkeys in Oatman are reknown. Turns out they not only wander the town, vamping for handouts, but also patrol the hillsides and roads in small posses. I would hate to witness the carnage had a motorist come quickly around the corner where we found these handsome fellows!

A PS to yesterday's post: We had a couple little "this is touring" events yesterday when we were driving in that helped set the stage for our friends. First, Roger and Bob were having a great conversation in the front row and completely missed our exit to Barstow . Then after turning around to go back, I glanced up just in time to see Roger miss it again! This gave us a chance to share some stories about missed turns - which are much harder to correct on a bike than in a car! Second, at a stop, I noticed that the front rack was wobbling on the bike, which resulted in Roger recognizing that one of the bolts had shaken loose on the rough roads. We had to find a hardware store, pronto. The one in Needles had closed by the time we arrived, so we detoured north to find an Ace Hardware. Problem solved. But we went 20 miles out of our way. Again, much easier to do in a car than on a bike!

And, what's a tour without a flat? We have not had a flat since we got the bike rebuilt. Something must have happened when Roger changed the tires, as we had one 9 miles in to the ride this morning. We decided the tape at the valve hole was cutting the tube after a second one failed. Chewing gum in the hole seems to be holding. We'll see.

Tomorrow, we head for Amboy. No idea if we will have any service, so if you don't see a post check for it the next day.

65 miles today.

Go!

2019-01-06T20:44:00.002-08:00

It's go time! We headed out today to Kingman, AZ, ready to do this thing. We are riding out with Bob and Norma Clark, our friends from Redlands and the first who offered to bring us out here, over two years ago. We've had a great ride over, taking stretches of the Mother Road to see how they were (and frankly, because Bob and Norma were game and it's more fun than the Interstate!)

Bob and Norma offered to bring us out here two years ago, and the offer held.

It's pretty cold out here, and we're thinking that we'll be freezing come morning, but once we begin the climb over Sitgreaves Pass we should warm up. Funny how we did not notice that this first day was going to begin with a 14 mile descent! Brrr!

View from the pass

We are staying just a mile down the road from where we were hit. We drove past the spot on the way to dinner tonight. It feels weird, but like it's finally time to put that behind us. I asked Norma to follow us down the road when we head out, and get a photo when we begin tomorrow. I guess that might be a bit macabre, but I think it goes to my sense that we really do have to pick this up where we left off, and that means closing the circle here in Kingman. You gotta face it to overcome it.

Tomorrow, we should be back in California and maybe I will get that shot of the state flag that we missed when Jeff drove us home two years ago. Since we've only been away a day, it won't have quite the emotional resonance - but it will still represent our return home. And so the journey continues.

This Roy's in Barstow IS open, and a great stop for lunch

Get Set

2019-01-05T20:46:00.000-08:00

Having made the decision that we're going to finish our ride, we are now in the throes of packing, working out our route details, and planning for that last long stretch across the Mojave. This has always been what we considered the "queen stage" of our planned route (i.e., the longest and most difficult). It's over 100 miles from Needles to Ludlow, and had we the luxury of 15 daylight hours, we might actually attempt to do it in one run. That was part of our initial idea when we were expecting to finish it over two years ago. We don't have that much daylight now. So we've got to plan to stop and stay somewhere in the middle.

Note the paucity of services listed there under the orange banner - basically, from the convenience store in Fenner to Amboy, we are on our own.

And, we are expecting it to be pretty cold! Why are we going now? We're asking ourselves that question as we get ready for what could be bitter cold. The short answer is, we're ready. And it's overdue, well overdue. We picked this week based on weather forecasts that appeared to show clear weather. My plan several months ago was to be teaching again in the spring term, which meant we wouldn't be able to go until May if we didn't go now. We know what happened last year - it got too hot too fast and we couldn't go. We didn't want to go Christmas week, obviously! And we'd agreed to host our bridge club for New Year's so that was out. That left this week. And once you get your heart set on something, well, even at the age of 60, you don't want to postpone things forever and keep putting them off once you've gotten yourself worked up about something.

I am pulling together everything for our trip today. Because of the stretch on Old 66 across the Mojave, we are anticipating spending the night in Amboy. There's a convenience store there, an iconic one at the old cafe and motel called Roy's. The owner of that is the fella who owns El Pollo Loco. He can't operate the restaurant, but he does allow cyclists to camp there, and there's a bathroom, and you can buy bottled water in the convenience store provided you arrive before they close at 8 pm. So, for a trip of only one week, where we anticipate staying in hotels the rest of the time, we're going to have to take camping gear. Roger's concerned about being cold and I get it. This is likely to be one of the tougher nights of our trip! But I think we're going to survive it. With the two of us in sleeping bags in that little tiny tent, we should be fine.

This is our destination, where we are told we can put up our tent. The inn and cafe are not operational, but there is a small store where we can buy water and snacks.

My primary concerns at this point are for our safety and warmth. (I guess technically warmth comes under the heading of safety anyway.) I've charged up all of our lights and we'll have our supplemental battery so that we can recharge them if we need to. I'll have my reflective vest on, and I'll be blinking from behind with my helmet light. All of this although technically the road is closed! We expect to have to go around some bridge repairs - another cyclist has told us we can get through - on what could be a very lonely stretch of road.

Not a lot of gear, but a lot to take just for one night camping.

So we have this tiny pile of camping gear: the tent, sleeping pads, the sleeping bags and puff up pillows, and two small towels and some wash up soap. There is a restroom at Roy's. There's no potable water but the owner lets people stay as long as they are self-contained. We'll want to freshen up a bit, and so we're carrying this stuff. We've decided we will not carry cooking gear for the one night. Instead, we will purchase multiple sandwiches from the convenience store in Fenner before we begin the run to Roy's. We should be able to hold them fine while we travel, giving us lunch and dinner en route. In the morning we'll eat our protein bars and pray for coffee at Roy's before we set out for Ludlow! I don't think I've ever heard of anybody who died from a lack of their coffee in the morning, right!?

Here's a kind of fun fact. Our packs were damaged in the accident. You can see how they were torn and the little clasp there in the foreground was cracked when they were wrenched off the bike. Roger was looking into purchasing new packs, which ultimately we are going to need to do since I doubt that these are going to remain waterproof for long with all of the tears on them, but he also investigated just making them do for this week and that is how we learned that we could replace that little clasp for $0.19! So, with a couple dollars of shipping included, we were able to put these babies back on the road and that's what we're planning to do.

We put everything into the packs for our final shake-down cruise today. We both felt pretty comfortable, and have concluded the Silver Queen v2.0 is ready to ride!

The Silver Queen, v2.0 is ready to roll.

Get Ready

2019-01-04T21:18:00.000-08:00

Roger and friends on our recent ride

We are going to finish our trip. We are going to leave Sunday to finish our trip. We are going to head across the desert for several days in the teeth of winter to finish our trip. So let's get ready!

I thought I would be teaching this spring, so we only had a short window to get the trip in after the fall semester ended and before spring term began. That led me to check weather and temps for the desert and select this coming week for our trip. Maybe it's foolish, but we want to get on with it and we know that we cannot make the trip during the heat of summer, so here we go.

Riding with packs on our test drive

Roger got the racks mounted, and we've ridden with the packs on so that we could test everything. We went out the other day to make sure the new back end of the bike, the packs, the disk brake and the racks were all in tune. This happened to be on the 2nd anniversary of the day that we crashed for the second time, so I was conscious of what had happened before and a bit nervous about having something else occur that would hold us up yet again. Kevin Ingram, our friend and neighbor, went out with us to Riverside. It was not a long trip - about 32 miles - but it felt BIG in some sort of important way. I've had this slightly anxious feeling while on the bike now for the past couple of rides. I am desperate to avoid an accident, and of course, that's not a good way to ride. It was comforting to have a friend along for the ride.

Right after New Years, we went off with some friends on a long ride out towards the coast. We intended to ride out to the train station in San Clemente, and then come home on the train. Partway there, we remembered that the bike car was unlikely to be on the train mid-week, and we might have trouble getting the tandem on the train. So we decided to turn around and do an out-and-back instead of continuing to the coast. That's fine - it gave us a slightly longer ride and and a chance to test our legs for the longer distance. We are ready. We were tired, but we made it and felt like we could ride again the next day. That's the ultimate test for touring.

More than we planned, but that's ok.

Here we go again!

2018-12-07T13:17:00.001-08:00

I am working through several years of medical expenses in order to clean up my files for our health care reimbursement account. My health insurance plan is one that allows me to set aside money for medical expenses. These are “pre-tax” dollars, which one is then allowed to withdraw for medical costs. As long as you pay for health care, you pay no tax on the money, ever. So, this is a good deal for anyone who has the financial wherewithal to put a chunk of change away. (Of course, it’s just one more example of a public benefit program that benefits those who probably need it least – the working premise being that you have to have sufficient income to be able to set money aside for medical costs that you may not incur for years – or ever. But that’s another post for another time!)

In any case, we’ve benefitted from this program, and I diligently save and eventually track all our medical expenses so that we can determine the amount to withdraw each year. We don’t always take money out, and we certainly do not match our withdrawals to our expenses, line by line. That would be an enormous data-tracking exercise. We tend to do it when we need a couple thousand dollars. Since our medical expenses have been high the past few years (accidents, surgeries for me, etc.) we have no trouble meeting my deductible. That gives me an easy benchmark for the amount we can withdraw. I don’t have to put all the documents into my spreadsheet to know that they have exceeded my deductible amount, and with our dental plan and Roger’s eyeglasses, it’s easy enough to confirm our costs are over $4,000 a year. So if Roger asks what we can transfer from the account, it's easy to make a very good-faith estimate of a reasonable amount to take.

And what does that mean? It means that we’ve skated along like that for several years, and I am now in the process of “catching up” on many years of medical costs. How many? Well, the last tab in my spreadsheet was 2013! Yikes. Five years of medical data to input! Ay yi yi. I have at least taken the time in prior years to sort and order the expenses by date. So I know roughly how much is there for 2014, 2015, and 2016. Ah, yes – 2016. That was the year of our big bicycle trip, and hence our VERY big medical file following the accident that ended it. So that year is in good shape, and since we were reimbursed by the insurance company of the guy who hit us, we won’t be able to claim any of those costs in this program, anyway.

But then there was that OTHER accident – the one that happened on December 29, 2016. That one was on us, so to speak. And so here I am, contentedly if somewhat belatedly keying in my expenses for things like prescriptions and office visits for my trigger finger surgery and other fine stuff like that in 2017 when I come across the bill for my little stay at Loma Linda University Medical Center. Sigh. It just never goes away. The specter of those events keeps coming up. When you least expect it, here it is again. Powee! – like hitting the pavement all over again.

For me, at least – this was a “2-fer” – meaning that I was basically in the “buy one, get one free” mode by that time in the medical expenses year. The first accident, the one in Kingman, took me over my deductible. So this one was pretty much fully paid by Kaiser. I had a $100 co-pay for my ER visit, and I think that’s it. Not bad! If there’s any silver lining to be found in all of this, I guess that is it. And when you are looking at piles of bills that total thousands of dollars, a silver lining is a nice thing to find.

This time last year . . .

2018-11-08T17:47:00.001-08:00

Thanks to Facebook, I got a little reminder a day or so ago about where we were last year at this time. We had gone up the highway for a few days to hike and enjoy "fall" in the Sierra. Coincidentally, it was also when I was getting checked out for my heart condition. I wasn't quite sure I could remember when that happened, but with Facebook's nudging and a look at my phone's calendar, I was able to recreate our trip - and another portion of our journey together.

Good thing it was not summer! This is easy to hide under a sweater.

November 5th was the day - photos of that glorious hike up the mountain came back to remind me how beautiful it was. And then there's that photo that I would not have posted on Facebook - the one with the wires from the Holter monitor zigging and zagging across my chest . . .

Since I had been having this odd sensation when I used the bike trainer on the patio, and my deductible had been met (I hate to say it, but financial considerations do play a role in the appointments I schedule with the doctor), I had gone in to see a cardiologist and step one of that process is to wear a monitor for 24 hours. Since I had been in for a stress test years ago and nothing was found, I was determined that I would have an episode this time. I got home, got on the trainer and rode hard until the odd sensation occurred. Breathless, a little dizzy, heart thumping and racing - there it was! Bingo! Surely there would be something to review this time!

Some of the most beautiful trails in the world are in the Sierra. Roger and I love it here.

Trees here are survivors

We had planned this trip before I made the doctor appointment, and I didn't want to miss it, so I arranged to wear the monitor over the night and keep it through the weekend. During our hike the next morning (at 10,000 feet) I jogged along the trail until I felt woozy, hoping to get another episode recorded. Yes indeed. There's that odd, breathless feeling again. Wouldn't anyone feel breathless, hiking at 10,000 feet? Probably. But the racing in my chest was not normal, and I hoped the monitor picked it up.

It was a relief when my 24 hours was up, and I was able to peel the sticky little doo-dads off my chest. Another day in the Sierra without being trussed up like a turkey, and then we were home.

I can't quite make out from the calendar exactly when all the follow-up appointments were, but it's clear enough that I had to go see the cardiologist in Redlands again for the results from the monitor (yes, you have Afib) and then I was scheduled to see the electrocardiologist (specialist from LA who comes as far as Fontana every now and then). This is the guy who would perform an oblation, if that turned out to be the best course of treatment. He is the "heart rhythm" guy, and was very helpful to our understanding of what was going on.

We discussed my options and general health, and ultimately agreed that we'd just take a "wait and see" approach since I had, by this time, also been diagnosed with sleep apnea and that condition can have an affect on the heart, leading to a high correlation with Afib. Since I was just beginning to use the breathing machine for that, I made the case that maybe this treatment would address the Afib, and I would not need medicine or treatment at all. Plus, I was scheduled for surgery to correct my right carpal tunnel issues. I wasn't going to be doing anything very athletic for weeks anyway, as I recovered from that surgery. The doctor prescribed a very low dose beta blocker for me, and said to call him if I had symptoms, and then we would fill the script and begin medication. Otherwise, nothing.

Thus it was I headed into the Thanksgiving holiday with thanks that I wasn't facing an imminent oblation. Even as I awaited my next surgical procedure the following week!

The heart-shaped rock seemed especially appropriate on this hike!

Two years. TWO YEARS.

2018-10-31T22:24:00.001-07:00

Two years.

I cannot believe it has been an entire year since I last posted. Except - I can believe it. I can believe it because when you are not on an excellent adventure, life takes over. And life, it turns out, is actually a lot harder than something remarkable like riding your bicycle around the country.

That's easy. It's a long vacation doing what you want to do. Life, on the other hand, is all the little things that get in the way of what you'd like to do. So even though I have often thought about our story, and about updating this blog so that it would be complete, I have found it exceedingly difficult to get something posted. There are a lot of reasons for that, and maybe I'll get to them later. In the meantime, here's where we are now.

I could not sleep last night. I woke up about 1, and I was restless and awake until sometime after 4. I finally recognized what was going on. When I realized that the next day was Halloween, I was able to place the day, and my insomnia, in context. If you've ever had a momentous event occur in your life, perhaps you know what I mean when I say, "your body will remember even if you forget." So my body remembered that October 30th is the day we were hit. My body needed me to acknowledge that date. My mind might not have recognized it in conscious thought, but subconsciously it was screaming at me that I had to acknowledge this day.

I lay awake, composing this post in my mind and wishing that was enough to let me fall asleep again. Of course, it doesn't usually work that way! So when the alarm went off a few minutes after 7, I was tired. I've been tired all day. What I did not want to do was lie awake another night, thinking about what I ought to have written. There are many days in the last year and even before that that I have crafted a draft for this blog. But I can't seem to get around to posting it. There's always something else that I need to do. That's that real life thing coming into play. So I'm well behind in my story.

That makes me anxious, of course. Because I am hopeful that I will be able to catch up on my story before we actually finish our trip. And there's the answer to that question. No, we have not yet finished our trip. Not in two years' time. We spent six full months on the road and yet we cannot seem to find one more week to finish the trip.

I've written but not posted several additional entries about what's occurred in the last year. I'm going to do my best to complete those, add the photos that I've been cataloging, and get them posted - but if that doesn't happen at least let me say this much: the pain following the removal of my cast which I last wrote about in my post a year ago persisted and grew more intense. Inside of several weeks I was almost unable to use my right hand. I had to schedule surgery to correct the carpal tunnel injury which I probably sustained many years ago and exacerbated with the break.

Since I had met my deductible for the year, I took the opportunity to check out a couple of other things that had been bothering me. Roger had been saying for some time that he thought I ought to have my sleep checked out, because he felt it was likely that I suffered from sleep apnea. And so I did! As a result, I was diagnosed with sleep apnea.

There were also the occasional issues I had with a very rapid heart rate during exercise. As I was recovering from my wrist fracture, I used the bicycle on the trainer to stay in shape. While we managed to go nearly 10,000 miles with no episodes on our trip, my work on the trainer was causing me to have frequent episodes where my heart rate would spike, I would get a bit dizzy, and would have to stop until the heart rate returned to a more normal rhythm. After wearing a monitor for 24 hours to capture these episodes, the exercise-induced tachycardia I had managed for 10 years was recast as atrial fibrillation. There was a week somewhere around Thanksgiving, I forget the exact time now, that I received news about all three of these issues in very rapid succession. It was, without a doubt, one of the more sobering and discouraging periods of my life. I felt like everything was falling apart.

Anyway, the upshot of all this is that a week after Thanksgiving, I had another surgery - this time to correct carpal tunnel issues on my right wrist.

I wasn't overly concerned about the A-fib. In consultation with my cardiologist, we decided to keep an eye on it and assess whether or not the treatment for sleep apnea would mitigate the A-fib (they are highly correlated). But I had an episode in February where we did a very gentle ride and I just kept having episodes of lightheadedness, dizziness, and very rapid, fluttery heart beats. It didn't stop when I got home, so I thought it made sense to get it checked out. That escalated things a bit, and I now take a very low dose of a beta blocker to keep my heart rate from spiking during exertion.

I began a new chapter in the spring, teaching several sections of a course at our University here. It's exciting to me - a challenge and gratifying to have some income. But this new activity disrupted our normal training rides. It became more difficult for Roger and me to get on the tandem.

Still, we made plans to complete our trip once the term was over. Or, as soon as possible after the term was over, considering the fact that we had again agreed to host a bicycle team for the Redlands Classic, and we couldn't leave while all that was going on! And then we decided to go up to Lake Tahoe and watch the team finish one of the races in the Amgen Tour of California. So that pushed things out another week or two. But we really were going to go to Kingman and finish the trip in May. We had even arranged transportation with some of my friends. Except - the weather forecast was for temperatures of 110 degrees in Amboy.

And . . . Roger had some conversations with a friend of ours who teaches at the pharmacy school in Loma Linda, and she did not think it would be wise for me to subject myself to those temperatures while taking a beta blocker. Because, you know - desert - and more importantly, deserted roads . . .

What are you going to do? Once again, my health interrupted our plan. As we had discussed the possibility of completing the trip in May, I was prepared to ride in the heat. I was willing to make a run for it across that long stretch, taking minimal supplies to reduce our weight and increase our speed. I was prepared to ride at night with lights so it would be cooler, resting in the middle of the day at Roy's in Amboy. I had anticipated that we might drop off water bottles along the route on our way to Kingman so we could replenish our supplies. But I was not willing to place Roger in the position of having me potentially collapse because of this issue with my heart and my medication. So when he came home with this news from Vickie, we gave it up. We would not try to do the trip until it got cooler.

And that more or less brings us to now. We've discussed whether or not we could go at Thanksgiving, but I'm teaching this term also and I really don't want to be that constrained when we complete our trip. So it looks like it will be in the Christmas break. I don't think we'll have any problem being too cold, although it will be a different set of issues to address than the heat.

Stay tuned!

A year ago today, part 2

2017-10-30T18:33:00.000-07:00

The last few weeks have been difficult ones for me. On this day last year, our trip around the country ended prematurely when we were rear-ended in Kingman, Arizona. I cannot tell you how many times I have uttered that sentence. Even just the other day, meeting a couple people at a Conservancy outing, one of the women said, "oh, you're the one that went around the country on your bike, right?" She noted that she and her husband had followed our journey. She was telling her friend how we didn't finish the tour because of the accident. Yes, that's right. "Are you going to go back and finish it?" Yes, that's right. And once again I shared the story of how we were hit in Kingman. How we later had an accident after returning home. How I decided to take the opportunity while recovering from the pelvis fracture to have my trigger finger surgery done. How we were pretty much all healed up from that and back to riding again when I fell and broke my wrist. And now, how my wrist injury is healing up well but my carpal tunnel nerves are causing quite a lot of trouble and so I am probably looking at another surgery before the end of the year.

Or maybe I didn't tell the whole story. I am getting pretty tired of it. I imagine that other folks must be, as well.

Clearly there is something wrong here!

I didn't expect it to take this long. Roger and I had talked about going back out to Kingman to complete the trip home as soon as we arrived home last year. We even had the borrowed tandem that we could have ridden to complete the trip - but it was getting on winter and we weren't really fully back to snuff until mid-December, and by then it was pretty cold in the desert, plus the holidays were coming . . . so we figured we'd go in the spring. Until we crashed right before New Years. Then, it seemed as though we would probably not make it until late spring, due to my injury and subsequent surgery.

And then we decided that we would not want to go until we had the Silver Queen back, and that was early May. By then, there were road repairs on old Route 66. We didn't ever get as far as checking alternate routes, because it was really starting to get hot. Maybe we'd wait until fall, when the weather let up a bit. Doing a run through the desert without support requires a lot of water and you don't want to tempt fate by attempting it in the dead of summer.

Well, July 22 I fell, breaking my wrist, and so all our plans for the fall went on hold. Even the Mammoth Fall Century, which we've done many times, was in question. My cast was removed the day before the ride. So - no century for me! We went anyway, since we were registered for it, and our friend Vickie rode the tandem with Roger. And I began to think that maybe we'd go out to the desert on the anniversary of our accident, and finish the trip up "on time" but a year late.

Whoopsy!

Except that's not working out, either. I spent some time on the trainer while in my cast, and I have been out on the tandem with Roger several times in the past few weeks. But the numbness in my right hand has got me feeling pretty tentative, and it's not really all that comfortable riding with the wrist brace on. I can ride without it, but I'm still anxious about bumps and jolts so I feel more secure with it on. So far we've only been about 35 miles. We're not ready (I'm not ready!) to go 300 miles yet.

First cast - fashion pink

Second cast, a more manageable size and color

And so, though I put "Kingman" on my calendar for today many months ago, we are not in Kingman. We are not getting ready to head for home, at long last. We're just in Redlands, reflecting on the year past. We've started to think lately that maybe we will try to complete the trip Thanksgiving week. That's the latest ending to my ever-evolving story about our Excellent Adventure!

Your reporter, with wrist brace

We took a short ride today. We just went up the hill to Sunset and then around over to Live Oak Canyon and home. Less than 20 miles, but it was important to get on the bike and do something today, of all days. I feel pretty good on the bike, although of course I am not very strong right now. Still, it's something - and you have to start with something!

Making the turn for home

2017-05-26T21:27:00.001-07:00

We left Walker this morning and rode up the canyon this time, enjoying a beautiful but brisk change of perspective on the river in the early morning light. It was raging still, and the combination of the early hour, coupled with the cold water coursing through the canyon, brought the temperature down to a low of 45. Where the sun had breached the canyon walls, it was a bit warmer - but there wasn't much sun at that hour!

Out of the canyon, reflecting on the run

I asked Roger as we exited the canyon if the experience coming down with the river yesterday had been what he had hoped it would be. I have to agree with his response, which was, 'I can't think of anything that could have made it better!' It's not often that you have a chance to go back to an experience from your youth and re-create it. It's even less frequent that such an attempt turns out well. To have it be so splendid is rare indeed, and we will remember the event with pleasure for years to come.

Autumn headed up, again!

Our trip and the pleasure we've had has been enhanced by sharing it with our daughter and our friend. Dana left us yesterday, so our trip back towards home now just includes our friend Autumn. The three of us came back over Devil's Gate Summit, which didn't seem too bad this morning. A great run into Bridgeport for a second breakfast was just breathtaking, as we approached the mountains below town.

Mountains near Bridgeport

Then we had the long climb back over Conway, and the descent to Mono Lake. I'm running out of superlatives to describe these scenes, but they really are just over-the-top gorgeous. There's a kicker on the way back into Lee Vining; the road goes all the way to lake level and then you have to climb back up to town. We were suprised to see Steve and Brielle come by while we made the last climb; they were headed home from a canoe trip on the lake.

The road down there is where we'll be momentarily.

They are going to join us in the morning when we head out to climb Deadman Summit. We haven't ever done it from this side, so this stretch of our tour is the only part I have never ridden. Autumn made the observation that I seem to be feeling more comfortable on the bike, and I think that's true. These roads are familiar to me; I love the scenery and I have done the climbs and the descents before. It lessens my anxiety to have some knowledge of the road before me. I guess that's pretty much the case no matter what the topic.

Racing the wild river

2017-05-25T19:48:00.001-07:00

One of the really wonderful things about bicycle touring is that you have your stuff with you. So if you decide that you need to stay a little longer somewhere, or if you want to take a different route, or if you have to adjust your schedule to accommodate wind or weather, your level of fitness, mechanical failures, or just your need to relax in a beautiful spot, it's not really any problem. You are in charge. You do what you want to do.

Thus it is that we determined to go as far as Walker and stay for the night, rather than turning around to do another 30 miles and return to Bridgeport. Both Autumn and I are tired. This is more riding than I have done in months. We're feeling pretty good, but I personally did not want to push back to Bridgeport (what would have been a 90-mile day) into a headwind and then face a similarly difficult day following that. That is how I find myself now, enjoying the sunshine in a beautiful little courtyard at a really sweet motel along the highway here in Walker. We have had the requisite Walker Burger when we arrived, and eaten barbecue for dinner on top of that! Soon we are headed to bed. But first, a few notes about today.

The Fabulous Four plus Steve!

We left Lee Vining with Roger's old friend Steve and headed up Conway Summit above Mono Lake. This is a spectacular climb, with views of the mountains and lake in every direction.

Mono Lake and the mountain backdrop from Conway

Once you are at the top, you are treated to a truly smashing descent down towards Bridgeport. It was pretty windy along this stretch of road, but it was just gorgeous. I found myself being more and more comfortable on the bike.

Conway Summit

Our second breakfast was in Bridgeport, and then Steve headed back home. The four of us continued on to Walker over Devil's Gate Summit.

Stopping to admire the river's power

We had been a little apprehensive about the transit through the Walker River Canyon. Dana in particular was concerned about the traffic. There is no shoulder to speak of, so you have to be very aware of the cars. However, they were doing some road work near the Sonora Pass junction, which resulted in the cars being held up and escorted through with a pilot car. We arrived at the stop point just as they were letting our side of the cars go through. The result was that we had the canyon more or less to ourselves! We were able to ride the entire stretch with only a few vehicles coming through behind us. What incredible fortune!

Coming off Devil's Gate

The canyon is one of my favorite parts of this drive, and with the water raging through the river, it really was spectacular. There have been many times that we have driven through the canyon and the water level is so low you could walk across the river without getting your shoes wet. Today it looked like it might make a great run in a raft. Even more fabulous, the winds turned around just as we got to 108 (Sonora Pass), so we had a wonderful tail wind through the canyon. It truly was everything that I had hoped it would be. I think Roger had a good time.

Our plan as it stands now is to head out early in the morning to come back up the canyon before the traffic gets bad and then stay a night with Steve and Brielle in Lee Vining. We'll then go over Deadman Summit and back down Sherwin Summit to our car in Bishop on Saturday.

At least, that's the plan as it stands right now! When you are touring, anything can happen.

This is hard work. Autumn and Roger are just 'resting their eyes' a minute before bedtime!

And away we ride!

2017-05-24T21:37:00.000-07:00

The Fantastic Four ready to roll: Dana, Autumn, Roger and Kathy

Well, we made it through day one of our mini adventure. If, as they say, 'what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger,' then we should be a good bit stronger now!

Stuck like bugs to our rear wheels on the downhills

I think that the day's ride was basically a cakewalk for our daughter, Dana. She is fit and strong and an excellent bike handler. She makes maximum use of the tandem heading downhill and then has no trouble sprinting up the hill. For me, though - not so much. At 66 miles and about 6,000' of climbing, it was the most difficult, longest duration and toughest ride I have done since October.

But it was beautiful! Oh, man - the mountains still have great snow cover and the creeks are full . . . Our temps today were great and we had a nice little cloud cover to keep the sun off us. It was just a sparkling day in the saddle. And, we did get through it in one piece. So that's something.

The road to Paradise

We started by climbing up the Old Sherwin Grade. It's an alternative to the highway, and has some great stretches through the community of Paradise, along Lower Rock Creek, through pines and aspens - and always climbing. Well, almost always. About 700 feet from the summit, you descend maybe 250-300 feet, which means you have a bit more left to climb when you thought you were almost done!

Breakfast was at Tom's Place, at the top of Sherwin Summit, and then we headed for our second climb of the day, Deadman Pass. From there, it's a jolly descent down to Lee Vining. That stretch of road may be my favorite in all the land, and today it was spectacular. I am familiar with the road, and that may be one reason I was almost comfortable going downhill. I hope that I am regaining my confidence.

Coming off Deadman Pass to Mono Lake and Lee Vining

The excitement is growing!

2017-05-23T21:48:00.001-07:00

We are on the way up 395 to begin a short tour of the Eastern Sierra. For many years, Roger and I have traveled this route on our way up to our daughter's home in North Tahoe. One of the prettiest sections of the road goes through Walker Canyon, alongside the river. It's usually just at a modest level of flow, and with the recent years of drought, it's been downright puny.

Not supposed to have this before we ride, but oh, well!

Many years ago, when Roger was doing a lot of touring with his buddies, they took a trip on this route and rode down the canyon adjacent to the raging river. As events of our youth often do, this trip has assumed apocryphal status in Roger's memory and he has long sought to recreate it. Every time we make the trip, he talks about that time and expresses his desire to ride the tandem down the Walker River 'when there is some water in it.'

Well, the winter just past having delivered a mountain of snow to the Sierras, coupled with a few nice hot days this week, have resulted in an expected 'record flow' on the Walker River this Friday. And we will be there. After 17 years of hearing about it, we are primed to do our own 'river run' with Autumn, Dana and one of Rogers old buds, Steve.

The logistics of planning a trip like this are daunting. Were we to head out by ourselves for a few days, it would be no big deal. But coordinating with Steve (and his wife, Brielle) - who live on the route, but only part-time - and Dana - who must arrange child care while she's away - introduced a level of complexity akin to coordinating troop movements through a major military campaign. Roger was handing all the arrangements while I took care of pulling out our gear and clothing.

As it stands now, we'll meet Dana in Bishop to begin the climb up old Sherwin Grade through Paradise. She drove to Walker (I think) and then she's taking the bus south with her bike to meet us. We will stay with Steve and Brielle in Lee Vining (after we have climbed both Sherwin and Deadman Summits) and then he's planning to join us the next day and ride along as far as Bridgeport (over Conway Summit).

Roger told him that if he turns around then, he'll miss the river run - which is pretty much the whole reason for the trip. But Steve is concerned that his legs might not be ready for a long day on the bike. To which I would say, 'Really?! You think you are going to have any trouble keeping up with a tandem climbing up hill?' C'mon! And who would want to miss the downhill flight behind the tandem?

Anyway, after we reach Walker, we'll turn around and head back. All in all, it is about 250 miles. I am anxious about the distance and the climbing, but I have done all this before. As long as we keep pedaling, we'll be fine.

Frankly, it's the descents that have me worried; even though I have done them before (or maybe because I have done them before), I am apprehensive. The roads are good and the grades reasonable, and the scenery is spectacular. But they will be fast, and I am still nervous about fast. But - I am 'all in' for this one. It's one of my favorite parts of the world, and I am here with my favorite people. So off we go!

"I'm ready for my close-up"

2017-05-21T23:08:00.001-07:00

Old friends on the road

Last weekend, the club ride was a remote start down in Temecula that Roger and I have done several times before. It is one of the prettiest rides we do around here - climbing up a mesa above Old Town, and then rolling through a sweet little valley along a road under the oak trees, passing the avocado farms and eventually reaching Fallbrook.

Autumn under the oak trees

That's where we usually stop for a taco, and then the route home can either be taxing or crushing, depending on whether you head left or right at the T intersection!

Your next guacamole may be growing out here!

We've done the longer, more difficult route before, but I didn't feel like my legs were ready for that. So this time we took the shorter trip back to the start, which felt "just right." It was tough, and we were ready for our beer and sandwich, but it didn't kill us. Autumn came along, and other friends from the bike club were with us on the road, so it almost felt like old times.

There was another group of our friends who opted for the longer route, and it was fun to hear them bitching and groaning when they made it back to the rendezvous spot (just as we were heading for home after our lunch.) I was glad we opted for the less difficult route this time out.

We must have been going downhill if the tandem was out front.

It was our first ride on the tandem with the club. All in all, I felt pretty comfortable, except on the descents. I am still very nervous when we go fast - and it's hard for the Silver Queen to descend without going fast! (This wasn't our first shot at coming downhill; we had gone up to Oak Glen earlier in the week with Autumn. More on that in another post!)

Since this was the Silver Queen's debut, everyone was very interested in her new components. Roger was in his element, explaining how we'd had the back triangle re-engineered to provide a better touring experience. Here's a little run-down on the work she had done:

New brakes, wider fork

The brakes were changed to V brakes (I think that's the right term) to allow room for a fender to be installed. This was one of the most troublesome retrofits that Roger attempted for our tour, and he eventually got tired of tangling with them and pulled them off the back wheels. I definitely suffered the consequences of not having fenders when we hit rain. I was just soaked, while Roger managed to stay relatively dry up front (where the fenders remained.)

Beefy wheels and 32 c tires

You can probably also see the 48 spoke wheel and big ol' beefy 32 c tires. The front fork was replaced to make room for the larger tires.

My fancy seat post shock absorber

I did not know this change was coming, but Roger selected a "Thud Buster" seat post thingy for my saddle that is supposed to help smooth out the bumps for the stoker. I'm not sure I can tell yet if it's working, but then, the road felt pretty good Saturday so maybe there's something to it. Seat shock is a particular problem for the tandem stoker, because you can't always see the road from the back of the bike. It's easy enough for most cyclists to rise slightly off the saddle if the road is rough, or when you hit something (provided you see it in time.) But we stokers are completely at the mercy of our captains. If Roger hits a hole, it can really be a shock!

Enhanced cluster

The rear cluster is expanded. I can't quote the stats, but we now have an even lower gear than we had before, with the largest gear on the rear being larger than the smallest on the front. This allows us to creep along, advancing forward less than the circumference of the wheel with one turn of the cranks.You don't make a lot of progress in such a low gear, but with the bike loaded up, it is mighty handy to have one when you hit a very steep grade.

Larger disk brake

We swapped our teeny tiny disk brake for a size that would probably actually stop the bike. It's still under my control, and I am getting used to the increased "grab" that it provides if I use it.

The change that got the most attention was the belt drive that replaced the linking chain. For some reason, this just really got everyone all hot and bothered. I admit, it's pretty! And it's nice to know that I don't have to worry about getting greasy on the left side of the bike anymore. But I am not sure what all the fuss is about.

Belt drive linking our cranks

Roger had already made the shift to bar-end shifters while we were on the tour, and he really likes the increased control they provide. So he had them installed again. He's been very pleased with the performance of the bike so far. Shifting is working great, and he says it handles very well with the larger tires.

Bar-end shifters

I think he was initially worried that it would be sluggish or something, but that seems to not be too much of an issue.

In addition to all this cool stuff, the lugs for mounting the racks are beefier, and the good folks at Seven cleaned her up, polished everything and put new decals on. I've even reinstalled my bell! So the Silver Queen, v. 2.0 is back in action. Long may she reign!

I think the folks at Seven were having a little fun with us!

Shakedown Cruise

2017-05-11T17:29:00.000-07:00

If you have been reading our story for any time, you know that I early on named our tandem the "Silver Queen" and likened her to a grand old steam ship. Like a ship, I refer to the bike as "her" or "she" and while this may seem odd to someone who does not ride, it's probably not unlike the pet names that many give to their favorite automobiles.

She's home!

I have a great affection for her; I was despondent when Roger found the crack in her frame and I've thought of her rehabilitation as somewhat parallel to my own healing efforts. The hairline crack in her rear triangle and the stable fracture in my pelvis felt like mirrored wounds. When we learned that Seven would be able to repair and even improve the geometry and structure of the broken part I rejoiced that we would not have to replace her. Maybe I was too caught up in it, but it felt a bit like we needed to give her a chance to heal, just like I needed to heal.

It is with great joy and some trepidation, therefore, that I can now announce that the Silver Queen is home! About two weeks ago, Roger got a call from Mel, the fellow up in New Jersey that he had found while we were on the road. Mel specializes in tandems; Roger thought it would make sense to have him build up the bike once the back triangle was rebuilt. Seven Cycles shipped him the frame, and he had it ready to go in a day or two.

Meanwhile, the Redlands Classic bike race was coming to town, and since we host a team and enjoy going out to watch the races, Roger was fretting about the likelihood that the bike would be delivered while we were away. Sure enough, UPS informed him that it was coming "between noon and 4 pm on Thursday the 4th." He was concerned enough that he even contemplated missing the race that day, but the prospect of missing the finish atop Oak Glen proved too enticing! In the end, he worked out with UPS to have it delivered without signature - which was a little bit scary since it's a pretty pricey package to have sitting on the porch while we're away.

Roger's puzzle pieces

Once it arrived, he began the process of putting it together. But wait - you say! Didn't Mel put the bike together already? Yes, of course he did. But then he had to disassemble the frame using the couplers, and pack it all up, and that's the job of putting it together that Roger had to do. And of course, like any good assembly story, this one involves some missing pieces, and a bent or broken part, and so poor Roger, though he toiled into the evening darkness, could not finish the job.

I'm not kidding about the bent part. The large chain ring was apparently damaged in transit, and it had a bad wobble to it. In addition, Roger had ordered a fancy seat post for me that is supposed to help smooth out the ride for the stoker. One of the very small parts needed to fasten the saddle onto the fittings was missing. Despite this disappointing turn of events, Roger persisted. Rather like on our tour, he made repairs and substitutions - using our old chain ring and my seat post - so that the bike was ready to ride on Sunday.

I was very nervous about going out on it, I will confess. This is the "trepidation" part. While I was happy to have the tandem back, I was worried about being back on it. The bicycle race on Sunday travels a loop around the neighborhoods in the hills below Sunset Drive. It's not a flat course, by any means, and while you can get around the route on a bike, you have to be mindful of the racers and caravan autos and motorbikes. I don't really like being on the road like that, but Roger really wanted to take the tandem, so despite my misgivings, we headed out on the course to watch our boys make the loop. The weather was threatening - freakishly so for May in this part of the state - and there were thundershowers and even hail predicted for the afternoon.

Roger waiting for me - we are thrilled with our team kits!

We watched the race develop and cheered our guys on through several laps, and finally decided, not quite early enough, to head back to house to change clothes and then go downtown for the finish. On the way down from Sunset, we were hammered as the storm broke. It was freezing cold - it did in fact hail in parts of town though thankfully not on us - and of course we were not dressed for it. We had a rain jacket, but no leg covers or inner layers so by the time we arrived home, we were drenched and shivering. I took comfort in two facts: in anticipation of the rain, we'd not worn our brand-new shoes, and - unlike the professional cyclists in the race - we did not have to stay out in that weather!

Our team controlling the race. TJ, the winner, is 5th, in the yellow jersey.

We wiped off the bike, took a warming soak in the hot tub, and then headed out in the car to cheer our team on to a win. Even with the rain, it was a thrilling race, and our guys looked strong and shepherded their yellow jersey onto the winner's podium.

And so our first ride out on the new and improved Silver Queen was a success, even if the ride was shorter than we had planned.