9/30/01 L.E. Wood picnic area

67 / 8606 miles

Stayed up late talking to Dave. I guess we both needed that. And when I offered him a beer, he had one in his hand to offer me. That was funny. Talked about everyday stuff like jobs, careers, travel, women and relationships. Before you knew it, it was after 11PM.

Pretty good painting in Van Horn

Kind of surprised I'm not a little more hungover after all those beers I drank. Cloud cover made it still seem like night so I kept going back to sleep. When I saw that it was after 8, I jumped out of the tent. A long day ahead and I'm still in bed. Argh! But after all this time, I can break camp pretty darn fast. Said good-bye and good luck to Dave and I was on the road by 8:30AM.

It didn't matter. Even at this early hour, the headwinds were already pretty strong. At least I had the frontage road all to myself. That way I could just drop my head and push on. Very slow going. There was a truck-stop at the 19-mile mark and it had taken me almost three hours to get there. Had a bite to eat and then back out into the wind.

Had to get back onto the interstate at that point. But I think the trucks helped me a little. It seemed that the wind lessened just a touch when they got close. Then as they passed me, the bike seemed to get caught in their draft. At least that's what I kept telling myself. The amazing thing was all the traffic on a Sunday. And most of it semi's, probably ten trucks to every car I saw. And most of the time it seemed bumper to bumper.

Took another three hours to go twenty more miles to my exit off the interstate. Two o'clock and I'm not even half way yet! The wind was still so strong, it kept blowing over my bike when I went to get more water at a gas station. I'm getting concerned that I can even make it to Fort Davis because besides the wind, now I begin climbing too.

Finally off the interstate

I'm concerned about water. At the speed I'm going, even five liters might not be enough, especially if I have to dry camp somewhere. At least the temperature is cool with some high overcast clouds. Took a break every five miles and only took moderate sips of water. I think only three or four cars passed me in those 25-miles off the interstate. I thought the mountains might shield me some from the wind, but it didn't feel like it.

Found this guy in the middle of the road

The fences were pretty far off the road and there were a lot of short fat shrubs here and there if I needed to find a camping spot directly on the road. But the map showed a picnic area ahead, just before I get to the final climb up to the observatory. Maybe it will have water.

Bike sign out in the middle of nowhere

At 6PM, almost ten hours after I began, I haven't even done 70-miles. The picnic area is a good place to stop. Besides I need to eat something to keep my energy up. Since I was low on water (none here at the picnic area), I ended up licking my cooking pot clean after making some dinner. Traffic on this road seems to have picked up and one car even cruised the picnic area. That was weird because the nearest town is 25-miles away and it's Sunday evening.

As it got dark, I found what I hope is a secluded spot where no one can see me. There is a $200 fine if you get caught camping so I hope tonight is my lucky night. It's cool and the winds still haven't lessened any. Not sure at all what to do tomorrow. Maybe after visiting the observatory and the fort, I'll take another short day. It's not like I have a deadline or anything. But it's also all downhill to Del Rio after tomorrow morning's initial climb. Yippie!

9/29/01 Van Horn, TX

35.5 / 8539 miles

Weird sleeping in a bed. Guess I'll get used to that again. The weatherman calls for cooler temperatures for the next week, low 80's. Now that's good news.

Ended up eating breakfast at Martin's Restaurant which is owned by the big brother of the woman who owns the Cactus Grill. I'm so used to getting on the road early that it's hard to slow down on a short day. Followed a frontage road for 19-miles alongside the interstate. Not much to see but the occasional train. Overhead a Sanyo dirigible flew past. Now that's a way to travel. Quite a few truckers honked at me but not sure if it was the flag or not.

The prevailing winds are usually out of the southwest but I'm traveling east. So the winds are out of the east! Naturally. Came through a border patrol checkpoint and while everyone was waved through, I was stopped for a few questions. At least they didn't make me unload everything out of the trailer. So I'm glad it's a short day because the wind is definitely pushing hard today.

Made it to Van Horn just after lunch. Lots of businesses, motels and such on the main drag but no traffic. After grabbing a bite to eat at Dairy Queen, I went in search of the library. It had just closed but had a sign saying that it was without internet access so it didn't matter.

After the trouble I had yesterday trying to camp at the RV park, stopping at Eagle's Nest RV Park was a welcome relief. Kay Jackson, one of the owners, was happy to have me. The cyclist discount and a grassy tent site next to the bathrooms and showers make this an ideal layover.

Had dinner at Pizza Hut, but first had a soft-serve ice cream cone at DQ. Food has been a funny thing this trip, evolving into something else as this trip winds down. In the beginning, eating dinner was for the social interaction. But now I'm just tired, too lazy to cook. And that's not even taking into consideration the costs. Good thing my brother said I could come to work for him when I get back home.

Also tenting nearby is Dave from North Carolina. He just got his MBA and is headed to L.A. to look for work. Everything is packed up in the car, including his mountain bike. He said that after two days on the road alone, he too wishes someone was with him. Layovers in New Orleans and Austin just weren't any fun with out sharing them. I definitely could relate!

The stiff winds have made a hot day rather pleasant. Got a long day ahead tomorrow, over 90-miles. But just that much closer to Denton.

9/28/01 Sierra Blanca, TX

84.2 / 8503 miles

All I wanted to do was just get out of this city. But first, I had to survive morning rush hour! The only thing in my favor was I was headed out and the lemmings were headed in. So sad to see car after car with only one occupant. Wasteful.

By the time I reached San Elizario, the change was dramatic, like moving from a violent sea to calm water. I continued to follow the wide Rio Grande river valley Mile after mile of cotton were my only roadside companions besides the mountains on the Mexican side. Just flat, straight road.

Because I had skipped any kind of breakfast, I was pretty famished by the time I reached Fort Hancock. Went off route all the way to the interstate before I saw Angie's Restaurant. Great lunch, but everyone was a local, making me feel very much like an outsider.

Found this graffiti all over the rocks

More interstate riding with no views, giving me ample time to think. Too much time! More anger today but I'm unsure how to respond. On one hand, Nancy deserves all my help to make her memory grow. But on the other, I know the staff in charge of my project at TWU and I are light-years apart as far as what we're doing. If I continue to involve the university, my anger will only increase. My requests always are repeated until they become pleading. I don't want the ride to end with several weeks of hate and despair. Best to forget everything but the ride. Texas deserves a chance.

Since the restaurant was right next to the interstate on-ramp, I decided to head that way. From the map, it should reduce my mileage a bit too. But almost immediately, I found my way blocked by 'road closed'. The lack of construction equipment got me deciding to keep going on the closed road. Almost ten miles of pristine never-been-driven-on pavement. Looked as if crews were only doing some touchup work here and there. It felt good out there alone.

After getting a milkshake at a truck-stop, I found my trailer tire flat again. But I think it was the same thing causing me problems yesterday; a very small needle-like nail. Man it was getting warm. Plus, can't figure out if it's the wind or that I'm gaining elevation, but the bike is taking a lot of energy to keep going.

Wheeled into Sierra Blanca only to find out the High Country RV Park won't take tents. I'm tired from doing 80+ miles today. Besides, there probably isn't any other place to stay until I get to Van Horn in another 35-miles. At first, this seemed to follow the kind of luck I've been having. But, what-the-hell, it's only money! (I'm trying to forget that I don't have a job anymore.)

The room at the Sierra Motel is pretty good with a phone and cable TV (but only limited channels). Had a shower and at the motel manager's recommendation, headed over to the Cactus Grill for dinner. Even though everyone was a local again, their good humor banter seemed to include me as a listener. Very, very good homemade food too!

Went over the remaining route to Denton. Baring changes, I should finish on October 15th (1127 miles to go), exactly six months after I began. But even though I'm in a hurry to get home, tomorrow gives me little choice. It's either 35 or 124-miles. So, it's a short day to Van Horn. But instead of doing the next long day, I'm hoping that I can stop a little short at the McDonald Observatory. We'll see.

9/27/01 El Paso, TX

60.1 / 8419 miles

Slept pretty well. Kind of surprised that there was so much dew on the grass. I thought for a second that the sprinklers had been on.

At first, traffic was heavy and I didn't have a shoulder. But as I left Las Cruces, traffic dropped off tremendously. And a road shoulder appeared. Some more farms but mostly barren land. On one side, the railroad on the other. And very, very flat.

At the suggestion of a gas station attendant, I took a pretty major highway through the industrial area along the Rio Grande. Not sure why, but traffic was pretty light. The first thing I notice about El Paso was all the people, people everywhere. And all speaking Spanish. Kind of sensory overload.

El Paso museum

Had to go to two libraries before I could check my email. Too bad because one of the alumni contacts that D.G. suggested was twenty miles back the way I came from. And that alum was Margaret Varner-Bloss, TWU Athletics Hall of Fame (1994). Again, my anger is so close to the surface. Why can't I get the people at TWU in Denton to help me get these contacts. I just want to finish this ride and go home.

Decided to push on to the RV park outside of town instead of checking into the hostel at the Gardner Hotel downtown. Mistake! Eventually found it but kept asking for directions. Got a tent site with a plot of grass the size of a table placemat for $22. But I've got a full hookup: electricity, water and sewer. Compared to Doc's in Mesilla, this is like night and day.

Got a bite to eat and sat down looking at my route. I hope tomorrow goes better than today. Had a flat on the trailer wheel. And a guy in a black pickup decided to spit a wad of tobacco at me. Welcome to Texas! Hoping to make Del Rio in seven days.

9/26/01 Mesilla, NM

79.3 / 8359 miles

Thought about staying one more day, but that 'get home' feeling is too strong. In a way, that's kind of bad because I've had offers to stay awhile at Mountainaire, Socorro and now here. But I've been on the road too long, too alone. Home is where I need to be. The world will always be out there for me to wander.

Had breakfast with Max at Bar-B-Que On Broadway. He just finished working eighteen months on a 200-foot power yacht and now is headed to South America to buy some land and settle down for awhile. Said he'd been one the road for the last eight years.

Much of the morning was continuation of yesterday. Rode the interstate all the way to Hatch where I stopped for lunch. It was a welcome relief to get off the highway and on the back-roads again. Although the road rarely went straight, it was fairly level as I paralleled the Rio Grande. The desolation was gone as I found myself passing farms and ranches again.

The Rio Grande

The whole area began a radical change as I reached the Fort Selden State Monument. Ranger Elva and I chatted a bit about the fort ruins. "All evidence of the adobe structures will be gone in the next 50-years." she said. Hopefully by that time, funds will be available to completely restore the fort. Elva also told me that Las Cruces completely removed it's old town in the 1970's, even a 100-year-old church, all in the name of urban renewal. The city regrets that now.

Fort Selden

The road now went straight from farm to farm. An extensive network of irrigation ditches helped provide needed water for crops like cotton, red chili and pecans. In fact, the largest pecan plantation in the world is here, Stahman's. Lots of traffic on this two lane but as I got closer to the city, the shoulder kept me safe.

The RV Doc's Park & Service Center is between Las Cruces and Mesilla. The staff was wonderful, especially Chris. When she heard what I was doing, she said "Do you need a chair to sit on?" She couldn't believe I'd riden over 8,000-miles. Even though I didn't get any discount, this has to be one of the nicest places I've been; 24-hour rec-room with TV and a hot-tub. Plus the tent sites have a thick carpet of grass closet to everything. Even the showers are top-notch.

At Chris's recommendation, I headed to Old Mesilla to have dinner at La Posta [www.laposta-de-mesilla.com]. Billy the Kid was tried and convicted in Mesilla back in 1881 but he escaped after killing two guards. Dinner was good but I've felt queasy all day. Not sure if it was the communal dinner last night or the breakfast special I had that was giving my bowels a fit. Back at the campground, I was more than a little shocked to find copious amounts of blood in the toilet after one of my trips to the bathroom. Kind of scary but I'm not sure what to do. I don't have any pain so I'll just keep monitoring it. If it hasn't stopped by morning, I'll call my doctor.

9/25/01 Truth or Consequences

75.2 / 8277 miles

Judy insisted on cooking me breakfast because there wasn't much between here and T or C. As we ate, she told me that she had gone to TWU for her freshman year of college. "The humidity was unbearable!" she remembered. So, the next year, she transferred to the University of New Mexico.

Took a few pictures of some of Holly's artwork at Martha's Black Dog coffeehouse, then headed out of town. Passed a few small towns outside Socorro in the first five-miles. After that, I seemed to leave civilization behind. Because of some prime wetlands, the area was made a National Wildlife Refuge called Bosque del Apache. Still a little too early for any migrating birds. Even the Visitor Center was closed.

by Holly Hughes

The miles seemed to inch by as the temperature increased. The desolation was so complete, no houses, no ranches, not even any outbuildings. I didn't even see any animals, let alone birds. I couldn't even get off this road if I wanted to. I didn't even pass any dirt roads, just pavement. Up, down, straight ahead. And getting hotter every minute.

And out of this desert, I saw a mirage, The Santa Fe Diner. But it was real, a truck-stop in the middle of nowhere, halfway between Socorro and T or C. Boy, that cool dining car was a welcome relief. And the food was good too. The owner said he had a guy working for him that crossed the country in a horse-drawn buggy to Washington, D.C. We agreed that there are some pretty nice people out there.

Reluctantly, I headed back out into the heat, but this time onto the interstate. The road seemed to go on for miles on a level mesa, but at least three times, I descended into, then out of a canyon. I made pretty good time even though I always seemed to be cresting a hill.

Finally the town of Truth or Consequences came into view. I'd picked up a flyer about the hostel, so it was pretty easy to find. The Riverbend Hot Springs [www.nmhotsprings.com] is an eclectic collection of buildings, trailerhomes, and even a teepee or two. I was planning on going out for dinner but everyone at the hostel invited me to a communal meal of spaghetti. Everyone here is so laid back and genuinely friendly. Pete's from South Carolina and came out here to work. An old roommate of his from Boston, Mark, has been working at the hostel for a while. Kurtric was traveling cross-country but stopped moving when he passed this way. Robert is a hostel regular who calls Florida home. Dane lives year-round at hostels all over the USA. And Louise is traveling to Tucson on a motorcycle.

After dinner, we all sat around the fire. A very comfortable atmosphere. Later, we were joined by Max who couldn't pass up a dip in the hostel's hot mineral baths. I went back to the guys trailer to watch a little TV. With over one hundred videos to choose from, I settled on the "Thomas Crown Affair."

9/24/01 Socorro, NM

67.1 / 8202 miles

I'm finding that staying with people is so much more enjoyable than camping alone. Allen was gracious enough to even cook me pancakes this morning. We sat out on the deck, having a final cup of tea, as we let the sun warm up New Mexico.

Just over the pass. What's around the corner?

Allen said I had a climb first thing, but I made good time for at least fifteen-miles before the pass came into view. But compared to what I've been climbing lately, this was pretty easy. Once over the top, I could see for miles. The road was ruler-straight all the way to the interstate.

Sometimes, riding on the road, you get a lot of time to think. Yesterday I was angry. The whole fund-raising portion of the trip seemed a bust. I saw so much potential in it, but didn't have the charisma to get people to see what I saw. Today I'm trying to ride just for me and Nancy. Even with the money collected, I should be pleased because it WILL make more scholarships available for students. Sometimes (ok, most of the time), I set pretty high standards. I know everyone is trying their best.

It's hot and dry as it looks

And here I thought Wyoming was pretty desolate. Hardly a building in the first fifty-miles today. Riding on the interstate, while noisy, is pretty easy. The miles went pretty fast, but I was still famished when I spotted a few fast-food joints. While getting a burger, Bernardo Pena from Denver asked about my trip. Before I left, he handed me a donation for Nancy's memorial fund. Such generosity I've seen all across the nation! Gracias.

Riding the interstate

I found Socorro's plaza and didn't have any trouble locating the Doug West Gallery where Judy Lovelace works. After talking with Suzie Kyle and her mother, Elizabeth, who work there too, we phoned Judy up at home. She drove back to the gallery and enlisted my help as she was taking her dogs, Janey and Lillie, to the vet.

Judy's mother was a very good friend of Holly Hughes, one of my engineering school study partners many years ago. Judy moved here a few years ago after her mother passed away. I'm so grateful for the kindness Judy has shown me by letting a complete stranger come into her home. Judy has just returned back to work after having orthoscopic surgery on her knee. But even with a good recovery, the dogs get to be a little too hard to handle because of a spinal injury she got in a car accident.

Besides shots, Lillie needed her toe nails trimmed. For a one-year old, very, small terrier, she became a Tasmanian Devil when they started to clip those nails. Even the vet and his assistant were having great difficulty controlling her contortions. But she survived to get a dog treat (and hopefully the vet assistant got one too).

Gotcha!

While Judy went to therapy, I headed back to the plaza, looking for the newspaper offices. Thomas Guengerich, who runs the El Defensor Chieftain, Socorro's biweekly newspaper, had suggested I talk to one of his reporters. He wasn't in but I told my whole story to editor, Karen Weil. She didn't promise anything but I hope we get a story.

Back at the gallery, I found out Suzie had quite a record of wandering herself at a younger age. Now retired, it's her mother's turn, having moved here from Ohio. Elizabeth is planning a trip to Belize soon that includes several days of canoeing. Good for her! We talked till it was time to close up, then we walked over to Socorro's Pizza Pub for some dinner where we were joined by Suzie's youngest daughter, Emily. Three generations and they were all delightful dinner companions. I'm sure the other patrons were jealous.

Back at Judy's, we laughed almost too much watching 'Chicken Run' and 'The Full Monty'. This house is just wonderful. After Judy went to bed early, I admired all the antiques, but especially her mother's own artwork on the walls of every room.

Judy with Lillie

9/23/01 Mountainaire, NM

58.5 / 8135 miles

By the time I went to bed, the hostel was almost at full capacity. Marge couldn't remember the last time that happened when it wasn't a group checking in. And we also had a night-time visit from Rusty. He's the stallion burro whose ribbons hang from the walls. Turns out Jim got him as a trade for an old truck. Rusty's race days are over but they have two more mares and one of Rusty's yearlings.

Looks like I'll be long gone from the cold morning starts soon. Didn't even need a jacket as I left. Since the Kokopelli Kafe was so close, I wanted to see what they had. Boy, oh boy! Was I in heaven. Their regular cinnamon roll was so huge it could feed a family. Even the mini seemed large to me, and only one dollar. Yippie, sugar coma!

Had a long fifteen mile climb up out of the valley. Because it had a shoulder and was near Albuquerque, I saw a lot of cyclists taking advantage of the good Sunday weather. "I'm tired climbing this hill and I'm not pulling a trailer!" one of the riders said as he passed me.

After that climb, the rest of the day was rolling hills with views of vast plains off to the east. Passed through a few land-grant communities in which the property is held in common by people whose ancesters were subjects of the King of Spain.

No where to take a break or even get a cold drink, so I rode all the way to Mountainaire without stopping. Outside of town was a white pickup and as I approached, Allen Stibora got out. "Your goatee is a little longer than in your picture!" he laughed. Allen found my website and offered a place to stay if I was headed this way.

Back at his home, I met Beth, his wife, who was the postmistress of Mountainaire for years before she was promoted to a branch near Cedar Crest. She made us a great dinner, complete with brownies! Turns out Allen has been section hiking the Appalachian Trail since 1995 and only has 200-miles to go. And he biked the Northern Tier, Seattle to Boston, last year. So we had tons of stories to tell.

Allen & Beth

More camera woes. Just got back the pictures from Oregon and Washington. Remember that little accident in Missoula where I dropped the camera while riding down the highway? Well, every close-up, especially all the people I met, are out of focus. People like my aunt and uncle in Oregon, Emily in Corvalis and the Japanese around-the-world rider. All out of focus! I should be thankful that the scenery pictures seem to be ok.

9/22/01 Cedar Crest, NM

49.8 / 8077 miles

Chris had a full morning of errands, so we said good-bye while I was still packing. I hope she felt all my thanks as I gave her a big hug (although I tried not to 'crush' her). Dropped by the post office and needed to check my email one more time before I left town. Already, it's getting warm outside.

Leaving town on the highway was a much more pleasurable experience because of a wide shoulder. From the look of this part of town, it's all relatively new. Saw a bunch of other cyclists out for a Saturday ride. Then Becky Treadway rode up besides me. She was out on a day ride from Santa Fe to Madrid. I found out she was a PT working in Espanola. Growing up in Iowa, she didn't go to college until she was thirty. After graduating from Northwestern, she loves working here in the Southwest. Becky said she mountain bikes a lot but was planning on a three day bike tour next weekend. Today's trip was to check out the road bike and to get used to a different bike. Good thing too because after ten miles, she was having trouble with her front wheel. She was sure it was the wheel itself because the new tube already had a slow leak and you could hear the rim rubbing even though it looked true. It was nice to talk to her while we rode. But I'm sure she wouldn't have minded not talking about work. With my questionable job status, it was foremost in my mind. Becky decided to cut her ride short and head back, while I continued to Madrid.

Soon after I parted company with Becky, my shoulder completely disappeared. Traffic was moderate but mostly tourists so they weren't in a hurry. Pretty knarly terrain with a lot of short ups and downs with plenty of blind corners. Madrid was almost all galleries and artist studios. Looked like the only place to eat was at the Mine Shaft Tavern. Had the look of a biker-bar, complete with a line of a dozen motorcycles parked outside. "What the hell!" I said as I parked alongside the 'hogs'. The funny thing was that the bikers inside were outnumbered by tourists. But you could tell that when the sun when down, the bar definitely had a harder edge. My waitress called me 'hon' and wore black leather pants. Good food too.

The rest of the day was a repeat of the last few through New Mexico. The landscape just doesn't lend itself to any flat, level roads. In fact, I can't even imagine who hard it was to get around before paved roads. The combination of farther south and a slight decrease in elevation has definitely increased the temperature. I need to keep applying sunscreen or I'm going to be one leathery, crispy critter when I get home.

One guy I talked with at one of the gas stations didn't think it was a good idea to camp near Cedro. "A pretty rough town!" he said as he described how someone shot at his brother as he was building a road. So I thought of going just a bit further and finding a secluded spot just off the road. That was until I rode by a sign that said 'hostel'.

Marge and Jim have been running Sandia Mountain Hostel for about twelve years. And the surprising thing is that the guy's dorm is full. Most of the people here are using this as a temporary base while they look for work. Talked with Sandra, the hostel's lone female occupant, who after several weeks here has a possible job. The most interesting part of the hostel is that the owners also raise award-winning burros that have fee reign on the property.

Just stoppin' by to chat

Had dinner at Kokopelli Kafe & Bakery. Was tempted by the braised tofu but it was out of my price-range. But had a nice chat with Brenda, my waitress. She said "We have a lot of open therapy jobs if you like the area." Brenda's husband is a nurse.

Spent the rest of the evening just being lazy, writing in this journal and just browsing a few magazines. Holding my fingers crossed about a possible place to stay tomorrow night in Mountainaire.

9/21/01 Santa Fe, NM

0 miles

Called work first thing this morning. Things are not going well at my hospital. The patient census is so low, the staff feel the hospital could close at any time. In my department, people are routinely sent home early every day. Deb said under the circumstances, the best she could do for me was an 'on-call' position instead of 'full-time'. We all hope that things will pick up as winter approaches. Guess I'll have to polish up that resume when I get home. And I'm glad my mom has that spare room in the basement.

My new 'mom' Chris

So I could have a break from all my bike riding, Chris let me have the use of her car. Went for AYCE at Cici's Pizza, then got a whole hour of internet time at the library branch inside the mall. I had planned on visiting the Georgia O'Keefe Museum [www.okeeffemuseum.org] but by the time I got out of the library, it was getting near time to meet with D.G. Templeton, president of the local Santa Fe TWU Alumni Chapter.

Turns out D.G. and Chris go to the same church, so they knew each other well. Small world! Sounds as if D.G. tried all day to find some more TWU Alumni to meet with me, but because of the short notice, she had a hard time. Because of my medical background, she took me to New Mexico Sports Fitness & Physical Therapy, a clinic owned by TWU alum, Harry Chalmers. Unfortunately he was away on business. David, one of the trainers was nice enough to show us around. D.G. and I stopped somewhere for tea and a bunch of conversation. Mostly we talked about Texas Woman's University. I'm hoping that my fundraising trip will inspire a few students to do something similar next summer. Maybe we can even get an annual thing going.

Spent way too much time talking so I was starving by the time D.G. dropped me off. Chris has been such a gracious host. We went out for dinner again, Chris insisting on picking up the tab. Later back at the house, we indulged in a few bowls of ice cream. Mmm, good.

9/20/01 Santa Fe, NM

41.8 / 8026 miles

As the sun went down, the only sounds heard were the howling of the coyotes. It sounded as if the whole canyon was surrounded. Later, a car cruised the campground but I was well hidden from the headlights. Even so, I slept in my cycling clothes in case I needed to blend into the landscape.

The only person I saw when I left was the caretaker as he arrived. "No one bothered you?" he asked. Just the one car I told him. But I felt rested despite everything. I sure needed it for the climb out of the canyon.

But once at the top, I had a roller-coaster descent all the way to the highway, complete with a huge shoulder. That all changed when my route got me to Hwy-285. Near some of the newer sections around the casinos, I still had plenty of room. But that was the exception. Most of the ride into Santa Fe was on a very busy divided highway without a shoulder, or when I did have one, it was so torn up I took my chances with the trucks in the outside lane. A long, mostly uphill, white-knuckle ride I can tell you!

Since I was early, instead of heading straight to Christine Johnson's house, I took a detour to historic downtown Santa Fe. Some looked familiar from a visit I had years ago, but I don't remember it being this big and crowded. Walked around the central plaza by the St. Francis Cathedral. Outside the Loretto Chapel, I met Casey and Becky Hamill from Denver. Besides talking about the bike trip, I found out Becky was an Occupational Therapist. They had changed their vacation plans because of the events in New York, coming to Santa Fe instead of heading to the East Coast. Last stop was the San Miguel Mission (1610), one of the oldest churches in the United States.

St Francis Cathedral

Loretto Chapel

San Miguel Mission

Once I had a map of the city obtained from the visitor center, getting to Chris's house was pretty easy. All the major roads had a bike lane, so I felt reasonably safe. Stopped by the few bike shops in town, including Rob & Charlies Bike Shop. Stephen gave me some route advise for my southern leg through New Mexico. I should have bought another road tire but thought I could get it tomorrow.

Christine Johnson is the mother of a very good friend and coworker of mine back in Kansas City. At first I felt Christel might have roped her mom into letting me stay with her a few days. But after the bone-crushing hug her mom gave me when I arrived, I knew Christine was happy to have me. After getting cleaned up, she took me to Castro's (Restaurante Comidas Nativas) for some real southwest cooking. Great food, big portions and a cheap price. But we hurried back to hear the president's speech to the nation. Christel called later to make sure I made it safe, and to see if her mom had been nice to me. When saying goodbye, she gave me the message to call my boss back in Kansas City when I got the chance.

9/19/01 Santa Cruz Lake

61.4 / 7985 miles

Because it wasn't crowded, they let me store my bike in the dorm room. The only problem with that is trying to pack up in the morning without waking anyone up.

Took some time to try and call work back in Kansas City. Had to make several attempts, but got through. Ann says the hospital census is still real low and that might jeopardize my returning to work when this trip is finished. Nothing I can do about it right now, so I gave a message for Deb, my boss, that I'd start back to work just before Thanksgiving. After that I talked to Christel. I'm to stay with her mother in Santa Fe tomorrow and feel a little uncomfortable. I sure hope Mrs. Johnson doesn't feel roped into this just because I'm a friend of her daughters.

Finally got on the road just in time for rush-hour traffic into Taos. Grabbed a quick breakfast and stuff from the store. I was taking what they call the 'high road to Taos' and traffic dropped off immediately once I made the turn.

And 'high road' it was. The first climb lasted about fifteen miles and I would continue to descend and climb at least a dozen more times, especially when approaching a town. But the guys at the bike shop were right, it was beautiful up here with only trees for company. At the first summit, found a fox passing through an open field. The other thing that kept grabbing my attention were the roadside wildflowers. Most were either yellow or lavender. Just amazing colors and hard to capture in all on film.

In Las Trampas, I saw what is reported to be one of the finest examples of 18th century adobe churches still standing. San Jose de Gracia was built in 1760 but was originally called Santo Tomás. The church looked like it could stand another 250 years. Adobe seems like such an aesthetic kind of architecture, surely one closest to blending with the natural surroundings. But already you could see cheap and fast housing was beginning to outnumber the long lasting adobe.

San Jose de Gracia

I've always thought it would be hard for me to be tied to a home and property. It's not the home but the concept of owning the land which seems 'unnatural' to me. A home, even a well built adobe house, has a pretty finite life-span when compared to the landscape. To me, owning the land is like owning the air we breath and the star filled sky overhead. But I guess even these are being considered for purchase.

Stopped for a cold drink at a gas station in Penasco and for the first time since Kentucky, I felt uncomfortable. People treated me ok, but I still felt like a minority. Everyone spoke Spanish and the businesses looked like they only wanted locals to drop in.

On the edge of town though, I found Victor's Drive-In. "I like your flag," Victor's wife told me. In the last few days since the tragedies in New York and D.C., my flag has taken on a new meaning, joining a nation trying to band together. People hoot and hawler when I ride by, giving me a thumbs-up. And for a few who honk, I'll just assume they're patriotic too.

After a quick lunch, there were more climbs. But when I finally reached Truchas, the mother of all down-hills was before me. It followed a ridgeline so I had a great view, but it also left sharp drop-offs just beyond the pavement. Because I already knew the tires and wheels were hot because of the temperature, I tried to avoid using the brakes too much. Even so, it was a scary descent all the way to Chimayo. Top speed: 45MPH.

45mph ahead of me as I near Chimayo

After stopping for directions, I realized that I had passed my exit and had to ride a few miles back uphill. But the road to Santa Cruz Lake was still even a sharper climb. Eventually I got off the bike and pushed. I had two choices for campgrounds. The first required less climbing but was frequented by kids looking for a place to party I was told. The second was at the bottom of the canyon, was lakeside and would have more people camping.

Well, I have a hell of a climb to get out of this canyon in the morning. And yeah, the place is deserted. Not one, single camper besides myself. Not sure if that makes me feel safe or not.

9/18/01 Arroyo Seco, NM

42 / 7923 miles

I know this sounds weird, but sometimes I can't figure out if I'm too cold or too hot at night. Woke up just as morning traffic was beginning to intrude on my beauty sleep. A short day to Taos planned for today.

Since I was camped near a stream, the logical path (at least if you've been following MY adventures) is up! And up it was. Sometimes I wish I could see what the terrain looks like from above. Maybe that should be one of my future adventures - See America from 100'. Instead of a winding road, it went up, down, up just like a rollercoaster. Not that I'm complaining, I had some nice downhills and could just let it rip because the road was straight. The highlight of the day was passing the D.H.Lawrence Ranch. Lawrence wrote "Lady Chatterley's Lover".

Coming into Taos, I was blessed with a shoulder on this busy two-lane. Not always in the best condition mind you, but better than nothing. Just when I thought to stop and ask where a bike shop was, it appeared. Like magic!

Talked to Dave and owner, Rey, inside "Gearing Up Bicycle Shop". Dave said that because most of the mountain biking around here was at the expert level, the town couldn't support more than one bike shop. Especially with Walmart down the street. Rey was able to help me find a good two-day route to Santa Fe. "Across some very beautiful country," he said.

More art?

Found an AYCE Pizza Hut but in the end, I should have sampled some of the local spots recommended by Rey, like "Michael's Kitchen". Had to pay a dollar for internet access at the public library, almost not worth it because of the slow connection during my thirty minutes.

Decided to head back north to Arroyo Seco and check out the Abominable Snowmansion Hostel . I know it breaks one of my NEVER GO BACK rules but my only other option was a RV Park. And who knows, I might run into the Swedish Women's Cycling Team at an International Hostel!

An old school house

On the way back, I wanted to stop at a few museums while I was here in Taos anyway. The first was the Fechin Institute [www.fechin.com]. Nicolai Fechin moved to Taos in 1927. His home is a mixture of Southwest adobe and Russian woodwork. My luck would have it that the museum closed at 2PM and it was 2:05. Oh, well, off to the next museum.

The Van Vechten-Lineberry Taos Art Museum [www.vvltam.org] was built by Edwin Lineberry as a memorial to his late wife and artist, Diane Van Vechter. My luck was continueing to hold when I discovered it was closed on Monday and Tuesday, today being Tuesday. Almost makes you curious as to what might happen next.

Nothing much left to do but head for the hostel. So, here I go, back the way I came, to turn off for Arroyo Seco. Headwind of course and a slight uphill climb on a busy two-lane with a disintegrating shoulder. Woopie! Isn't this fun. Bailed off the road repeatedly because of big trucks and crazy drivers.

Arroyo Seco is a very small town situated about halfway between Taos and the Taos Ski Valley. Not much in the way of businesses except a general store, hardware store and a few galleries. But it did have a few businesses unique for a small town, like the Yoga Center. Walked around a bit because the hostel didn't open till 4PM.

Talked with Jason who had opened Phat Bagel Company only ten days ago. Besides some great sandwiches, he also had art for sale and internet access. He said ski season won't start till after Thanksgiving. Maybe with the Olympics in Park City, UT, some of these other ski areas might get some new business this winter.

Promptly at 4PM, Sara opened the door and let me in. The Abominable Snowmansion has a huge common room with a circular fireplace, pool table, and a piano. Besides the kitchen, the dorms are on the first floor. There are a few private rooms upstairs, but also tipis and cabins out back. So, out of sixteen beds in the men's dorm, there are only two of us.

Had a bite for dinner, then spent the rest of the evening reading and listening to my radio. A couple of German girls arrived later but neither was sociable. And before I went to bed, a couple, Hans from Switzerland and his wife from Columbia, showed up after all the staff had gone to bed. What was I to do? So, I let them in.

9/17/01 Goat Hill

89.2 / 7881 miles

It rained last night, but this sand just soaks it up. Still pretty cool out when I broke camp. Had a slight delay when I had to unpack everything looking for my glasses. I could get by without them, like I did hiking the Appalachian Trail after having broken them twice, but they do add a lot of clarity to everything I see.

The ranger said I had a long downhill all the way to San Lois but the town elevations actually had me climbing a bit. Just like all my mornings recently, the sky was clear except over the mountains. But again like yesterday, rain clouds seemed to be moving my way from across the valley.

What an amazing view as I left Colorado

Had a bit of lunch at the Ute Café in Fort Garland. From my table, it looked like a hot, sunny day outside. But when I was barely five miles outside of town, you couldn't even see the mountains because of the rain. The winds kept shifting so I couldn't tell which way the storm was moving. I donned my rain gear several times, only to take it off minutes later when the rain stopped.

The storm is almost on top of me!

Just outside of San Luis, the clouds behind me had that black, menacing look to them. And sure enough, pea-sized hail began to pelt me. Thank God they weren't bigger and that I had a helmet. I stopped at the first gas station in town to sit out the storm. I didn't have to wait long. The skies were blue again about fifteen minutes later.

Back to blue skies!

I had planned on stopping here but I'd only done 48-miles and there was no where to camp. If the gods smiled on me just a little bit, I could make another 35-miles to Questa before it got to late. And there was a campground a few miles out of town.

As I rode those miles, I marveled at how my body has performed when pushed. Today makes two 85+mile days in a row, and at an elevation between 7500 and 8000 feet. Guess my hear and lungs are doing pretty good. I wonder how much improvement this high altitude training will give me when I reach the lower elevations, like crossing Texas. My cough seems to finally be going away, but I do have a split-lip, probably due to the dry air at these elevations.

Much to my amazement, I reached town by 5PM with the aid of a slight tailwind and a drop in elevation. Had a wonderful Mexican dinner, complete with some fried sweet bread. I should have asked what they were because they reminded me a lot of mendazis I had in Kenya. The ownder tried to convince me to stay at her RV campground but still wanted to charge me $15 for a tent site. I'd check out the Forest Service site first.

Good thing I brought water because there isn't any here at the Goat Hill Campground. In fact, there's not much of anything here. But looks like they've closed for the winter, so I like it's price - FREE! Found a spot a little downstream with a few more trees to shield me from the highway and the noise of the stream should help drown out the traffic noise.

9/16/01 Great Sand Dunes

84.3 / 7792 miles

Gets mighty cold up here around 9000'. I couldn't wait for the sun to peak over the ridge to warm things up. Packing is ten times harder when it's cold, and a hundred times more difficult if your insist on doing it with gloves on.

One good thing about my campsite was that it was only two miles from the summit of Poncha Pass. The climb up helped get me warm, at least until the sun could do it. Once over the pass, the road descended into the valley. If I didn't know better, I would have thought I was in Kansas, what with the land flat with roads that go straight into the distance.

The store/café/motel/gas station at Villa Grove was a wonderful amalgamation. Besides convenience store items, there was also fresh produce, café with blues music playing in the background, internet access, and at least a half dozen artists of various media had their wares displayed. You were even served on pottery that was for sale. Had an early lunch, and a good thing because there was nothing to be had for the rest of the day. Even met a family from Texas in the café, and they knew a teacher at TWU. Small world.

After saying 'Adios," I headed down the 'gunbarrel highway', fifty miles of ruler-straight road that bisects the valley. Was a little nervous out here in the open because off to the west, you could see a pretty strong rain storm. I had a crosswind, so I went as fast as I could to beat it. I hoped that it would wear itself out coming over the mountains, but the sanding water along the road didn't bolster my theory much.

Before I got to Alamosa, I turned east toward the Great Sand Dune National Monument. The storm had indeed run out of steam, so I had sunshine the whole way. Before getting to the park, I passed through the Zapata Ranch. It took me hours to cross it, and the next day, a couple more hours to leave it behind. The landscape reminded me of the savanna in Kenya. Had lots of people wave and give me the thumbs up today. The only downside to visiting the park is that it is about eight miles off-route. And uphill!

After probably eight hours of solid biking, I arrived at the visitor center. The dunes were impressive. They rise almost 750-feet above the valley floor. Just to get to the base, you walk almost a half a mile across what they call a sand sheet. These dunes are a good example of why I'd love to have a partner. After this long day, all I wanted to do was take a picture and got to camp. But, I'm sure if I was with someone, I'd want to go exploring or at least climb part of the way up the dunes. Some things are better shared.

The two dots in the very center are people

This park also highlights the mish-mash of how cyclists are treated. The ranger at the gate said that cyclists get in free (why here and not other national parks?) but I still have to pay full price for a campsite. Policies really do discourage people traveling alone, even though they put less strain on the system.

Didn't really feel like doing much except eat dinner and go to bed. None of my fellow campers nearby seemed talkative, so I turned in early.

9/15/01 Poncha Creek

71.4 / 7708 miles

This old body just is worn out from this trip. Sometimes I just don't sleep well. My body doesn't give me many clear clues, just that it's not 100% well. Last night it was my stomach but it could have been anything or everything.

Monte cooked up some blueberry pancakes while I packed. I confided in him that when he took me in way back in June, I didn't think that I could have done the same thing, bringing a complete stranger into my house. But after almost five months, I can't wait to invite people into my home, where ever that ends up to be.

Leaving Fairplay

As I left Fairplay, I also left the TransAmerica Bicycle Trail. From here to El Paso, TX, I'm just winging it as far as my route goes. Although Hwy-285 is pretty busy, I don't mind because I have a good, wide shoulder. As I ride, the surrounding mountains look to be on fire because of all the brilliant yellows and golds of the turning leaves of the aspen groves. Since I was already at a pretty high altitude, the climb up Trout Creek Pass was pretty easy. And I had a good long downhill on the other side.

Trout Creek

Up ahead, I noticed a car pulled over and a girl walking towards me. She had jet-black hair, white blouse, faded blue jeans and red cowboy books. And very beautiful! "My name's Marie," she said, "can I take your picture?" Who am I to refuse the request of a pretty woman. Before she could get away, I told her about my website and she promised to email me the picture {but I never received it}. It was only later that the molasses I call a brain thought I should have found out her reason for taking the picture, and more about herself in general. I always seem to be about ten minutes behind the rest of the world, especially when talking to women. Hope I can get internet access soon because her car had New Mexico plates, so there's still a possibility I could see her again.

Instead of taking the direct route to Poncha Springs, I decided I had time to ride the longer route through Salida. Its downtown was like Breckenridge but without that tourist feeling. I talked with Jeff at Otero Cyclery about camping and he gave me good directions to some free campsites on public land near the next pass. Jeff joked that if I took a day off here, I could enter the Banana Belt Loop Mountain Bike Race tomorrow.

Aspens with their fall colors

I also had a chat with Erin Salisbury, a bike mechanic at the shop. She told me she grew up here and just loves it. "I'm within thirty minutes of everything here. Hiking, biking, skiing, you name it!" She told me that this town of 7,000 has been attracting a lot of retirees because of it's mild winters and summers. Her mom runs the "Home Bakery & Bagel Shop" just down the street.

The shops and galleries of downtown are a sharp contrast to the Walmart and other franchises along Hwy-50 that I passed on my way out of town. It did seem strange that a city of this size with such strong ties to the outdoors has no RV Campground.

The climb up to Poncha Pass is seven miles long. While long, it was pretty gradual and steady. But because I'm in a valley, it was getting dark because the mountains blocked the early evening sun. I was almost ready to pick a spot next to the highway when I found the road that Jeff had told me about. "Cross two cattle-guards and you're on public lands." he instructed. I thought he said it was about five miles off-route but I crossed over in three. Found a nice secluded spot off the road next to Poncha Creek. For a dirt road, it sure seems to have a lot of traffic, but then I keep forgetting it's Saturday.

The creek roars down below while above me I can see the Milky Way even without glasses. Life is good, even if I'm alone.

9/14/01 Fairplay, CO

25 / 7637 miles

In 1998, while hiking the Appalachian Trail, I had headed into town for supplies after being out in the woods for a week. But when I noticed the confusing headlines on the newspaper, I had to stop someone and ask if I'd missed something. "They bombed the U.S. Embassy in Kenya four days ago," someone said, looking at me like I'd come from another planet. Although I'm not out of touch for days at a time, the events of September 11th feel the same. Maybe it's just that I'm so far from home when these tragedies occur. I don't have that feeling of safety and comfort that comes with being with family and friends. Sometimes it feels as if I've been out on the road a long time, too long perhaps.

As I packed and said my good-byes to Andy and Niki, I got hit with a wave of homesickness. They treated me so well here, as if I was a member of the family. I'll miss them.

Almost immediately after leaving the hostel, I began climbing. Headed through heavy traffic through town, riding up toward Hoosier Pass (11,542 feet). At first, the combination of sunshine and effort, I was pretty warm. But the higher I went, clouds moved in and it got cooler. When I reached the sing that said four miles to the summit, the road steepened and began an endless series of switchbacks. At three miles, it began to rain. With these cooler temperatures, I was a little worried about hypothermia. My best option seemed to be just to keep moving. At two miles, the sleet started coming down, oh joy! But when I finally reached the top, the summit was under a clear sky. Go figure! Had a long downhill towards Alma, but the headwinds kept me from going above 40MPH.

Hossier Pass: elevation 11,542'

On this side of the pass, it was definitely warmer. When I reached Fairplay, I headed towards Monte's house as if I had just stopped there yesterday. Out from was a 'for sale' sign and I was worried that he wasn't home. I almost walked away after waiting for a reply to my knock when Monte came to the door.

"I'll be damned, how are you Jim!" Monte exclaimed. I was the first cyclist he'd ever taken in, way back in June. But he showed me pictures of everyone who had been here since. I recognized a few of the eastbounders like Natasha, the older mother and her son on a tandem, and the couple from New Zealand. Monte was just trying to return the hospitality that he received on his 48-state cross-country bike trip back in 1998.

I'm always telling people about my trip, but with Monte, I wanted to hear all about his summer. He seemed different somehow. Some friends had been pestering him for years to volunteer at a summer camp for kids with cancer (he had beat leukemia himself ten years ago). He finally agreed and had a blast. "Those kids are so positive" he said, "and they don't let their illness stop them in any way." Very inspiring and humbling too he related. One of the other volunteers was Jadie, a beautiful, outgoing 38-year old. Monte said he noticed her, how could he not he smiled, but didn't think anything more about it.

Well, after camp was over, Jadie called him. One thing led to another and he's been in heaven ever since. When I was here last, his future plans had been hiking the Continental Divide Trail and sailing around the world. He'd been married once and a successful businessman but he had greatly simplified his life. His future vision looked like a hermit living with his cat. But all that's changed now.

"I wasn't looking for it, but I've never felt the way I do about Jadie, even when I was married!" he beams. That's what's different about him, that rejuvenating elixir called 'being in love'. No wonder he looks younger, healthier, more alive. It's been a short romance but they're already talking about getting a place together, maybe even opening up a coffee shop slash bookstore in southern Colorado. His joy gives me hope too, that there's still someone out there for me. I am very happy for him.

Other things we talked about were his book "Wide Hips, Narrow Shoulders: A Bike Touring Adventure". It came out shortly after my first visit and sales have been going well. He showed me the full page article in the Pueblo newspaper for his first book signing. When I asked him more about the possibility of publishing my own story, he said it's a tone of work that he's glad is over now, but he still said a lot of it was fun.

Monte is the perfect host. He cooked me dinner and we had a few beers. We turned the TV station away from the news and watched an old Star Trek movie while discussing the positive possibilities in life.

9/13/01 Breckenridge, CO

0 miles

Had a lot of trouble falling asleep last night. The visual images of the second plane hitting the towers kept replaying in my head. Twenty thousand people! My greatest fear is that even that number will be too low. As I get very old, people will ask "where were you on September 11th?" Truly our generations Pearl Harbor. It's a time where fear of the unknown pushes us to family and friends for support. I wouldn't know what to say to anyone right now. But I dearly wish I had that special someone I could hold, knowing that I'm not alone in this world. I hope she's out there somewhere thinking the same thing.

After wishing Matt good luck (he'll need it) on his westward ride, I spent most of the morning doing errands. But the more you listen to the radio or watch the television, you kind of enter a state of slow motion. What you were doing or thinking about seems insignificant now. I plan to go to the movies this afternoon. My mind needs some pure escapism to even slightly recover from this tragedy.

Matt heading west

After doing my errands, I got too absorbed in the news unfolding on the TV. Niki had cut out the movie list for the day and the "Musketeer" was playing in Dillon. Summit County has a pretty extensive bus system and it's free. My mind needed some mindless entertainment, a relief tot he serious reality of our world, and a swash-buckler was just the ticket.

First, I needed to mail a few things. But what I thought was a Post Office near the library turned out to be only a mail box station. A passerby told me the 'real' Post Office was across town. As I turned around and headed in that direction, it started to rain. I should have taken these events as an omen, but I'm a stubborn, thickheaded kind of guy at times.

The sun came out for a few moments while I waited for the bus. I had to transfer to another bus when we reached Frisco. The whole ride took a lot longer than I thought and I got to the theater just fifteen minutes before the movie was to start.

I liked the version with of the "Three Musketeers" with Rachael Welch in it much better. This one was just a lot of fast sword work, reminding me more of "Flying Dragon, Crouching Tiger." By the time I left the theater, it was pouring outside. One of the other guys at the same movie had also been on the bus. He told me that the buses only ran once an hour in the evening, so we had an almost 45 minute wait before the next one.

Dinner sounded like a good idea, so I ate a few soft tacos's at Chimoya's. While the girl was making my meal behind the counter, I realized that young immigrants, especially those from Eastern Europe, Russia and of course Mexico, held most of the service jobs. But all the sales jobs were staffed by Americans. With everything so expensive there, I wondered how the immigrants made ends meet. Plus, I wondered what they thought of all the affluent people who lived and played here.

When a bus arrived, I ran from under the restaurant awning, trying to keep from getting too wet from the rain. It never crossed my mind to make sure this was my bus. As it was getting dark, I couldn't really tell where we were. So, when I thought we were back in Frisco, I asked the driver when the connecting bus to Breckenridge would arrive. "You're on the wrong bus!" he exclaimed. I had gotten on the bus headed for Keystone instead of the one for Frisco. Nothing left to do but ride the complete loop to get the correct bus. Two and half hours after I stepped onto the first bus, I arrived back in Breckenridge.

Had a pint of ice cream and a few beers and went to bed.

9/12/01 Breckenridge, CO

36.5 / 7612 miles

Slept peacefully despite this cough. I wouldn't worry about it except sometimes my throat freezes mid-cough and I can't breath.

Early to bed, early to rise. No need to eat breakfast, just pack and get on the road. The sun was still trying to peak over the mountains. At first, it seemed like a windless morning at my campsite near the river, but as soon as my tires touched pavement, the headwinds blasted me.

I give up! I'm here to tell all human-powered travelers that the winds must be seasonal. I have no one to blame but myself - I made the route and schedule. Maybe it has to do with mountain weather dynamics as winter approaches. Looks like I'll get headwinds when climbing and tailwinds on the downhill. Great!

So, besides the headwinds, I had to share a road with no shoulder with rush-hour traffic. And to that I have the added bonus of the morning sun shining into the eyes of the drivers coming up behind me. Kind of a white-knuckle ride.

It was only twenty miles to Dillon, but it seemed to take me forever. A quick check of my time said I could stop off for a bit of breakfast and still make the AYCE pizza buffet for lunch. Sweet! I liked the Blue Moon Baking Company so well the last time through, it was a no-brainer deciding where to stop. While eating, I got a chance to talk with Sam and Elizabeth, who had driven up to see their son.

Unlike the Appalachian Trail, when you're on a bike tour, you're never far from the events of the outside world. We talked about the tragic events unfolding even today. The world will always have evil, but on this trip, I've seen so many good, compassionate, generous people, that it has to far outweigh the bad in the world. It has to! Terrorism only is effective if we begin to mistrust everyone we don't know, especially those of a different race, culture, language or religion. Let governments deal with terrorists. For the average guy or gal on the street, we should treat it as part of nature, something that happens like a hurricane or tornado. You can't defend against it but you can show courage in its aftermath.

The ride from Dillon to Breckenridge is nice because it's all bike-path, mostly away from the road. But as I approached the Dillon Dam, a policeman was blocking the road. And when he saw me coming down the bike path, he waved me over. He apologized but had orders to check anything bigger than a backpack. Under the heightened security I wasn't surprised. The entire town of Silverthorn is built right below the dam. I'll say this, he was thorough. He had me empty the complete trailer and checked each stuff sack, plus emptied my food bag because of the stove and cook pots. Kind of a pain but he was just doing his job. Besides, he was good-natured about it.

The ride, while beautiful as you ride among the green pines and golden aspens, was still uphill and against the wind. Also clouds were building at the mountaintops. Not much snow left on the slopes but I'm sure that will change soon, maybe too soon.

I went by the library, stopping there first before heading off to the Fireside Inn hostel. Before I could ask about internet access, standing beside me was Niki, one of the owners of the hostel. "I thought I knew you!" she smiled. We chatted a bit about our summers before I said I'd talk to her back at the hostel.

"Are you here to socialize or do you want internet access?" the librarian laughed. I was able to get two hours of online time, enough to update the website and take care of a backlog of email. One disappointing email was from Steph, the thruhiker I hoped to stay with a few days in Colorado Springs. Turns out she is in Ecuador not for the summer but for a whole year. She gave me the name of a friend of her's that now lives in her house. Will have to completely re-evaluate my plans.

Had a good calzone at the Windy City Pizza and bought a pint of Ben & Jerry's for dessert. Talked awhile with the gang at Great Adventures (Bike & Ski).

As I was walking down Main St, I saw one of the best store signs I've ever seen in front of "Ready, Paint & Fire", one of those you-paint-ceramics places. The sign had a very cool three-dimensional feel. Talked with owner, George Kuhlman about it. "A friend did it," he said. I told him it was great. Once I had thought of doing one these painted plates commemorating each of my adventures. Might just have to look into it when I get back home.

What a cool sign

Sat a talked with Niki and her husband, Andy, back at the hostel. Such wonderful people. They treat you just like family (maybe better than family). We talked about the summer, the cyclists and hikers that came through, and about the tragedy in New York. Tonight's news estimated the death toll at about 20,000.

And who walks in but Matt, unbelievable as it sounds this later in the year, another westbound TransAm rider. He would have started earlier but his partner couldn't. Then she ended up bailing out of the trip completely by the time they reached Missouri. We took advantage of the hot tub while we talked 'bike touring'. Matt has an interest in moving to Damascus, VA, because of the TransAm and Appalachian Trail cross there. He was also touched by the New York events. A friend of his actually saw the planes hit the building as he was walking to work.

Decided to take a day off here and begin my planning for the trip south to El Paso, TX. I still might be able to take a few days off in Santa Fe if I can contact Christel's mom there. And, oh joy, looks like scattered thundershowers for the next three days. Whoopee!

9/11/01 Praire Point

80.9 / 7575 miles

Gets mighty chilly up here above 8000'. Frost covered the ground and my tent. A lot more difficult packing up with gloves on. This weather probably doesn't help my cough any either.

Joanne & Carl

I wanted to get some miles in before the winds kicked up but when Joanne asked me to join them for breakfast, how could I refuse. Besides, it was too cold still. Found out a little more about Carl. He owned a restaurant, sold it and retired to Florida. That's where he met Joanne. He works part-time for Sears but thinks he will give that up next year. As we were leaving the Coffee Pot Café, the waitress asked if we had heard the news. "A hijacked plane had crashed into the World Trade Center in New York!" she told us.

Most of the morning's ride was pleasant, even if we did have a slight headwind. The sun warmed things up fast before I'd even gone ten miles. I almost caught up to Joanne and Carl, but was content just to keep them in sight. Almost half our day was climbing up to Muddy Pass, another crossing of the Continental Divide. It was at the pass that I finally caught those two.

Carl had been listening to the news on the radio as he was riding. It was then that I heard about the extent of the day's tragic events. Such devastation, and to what purpose? My thoughts go out to those children who won't be picked up at school today.

Said goodbye to Carl and Joanne as they were headed west towards Steamboat Springs and I was going east to Kremmling. For miles, I sped down from the pass. And I even noticed I had a slight tailwind. Wonders never cease. Most of the afternoon was spent riding a roller coaster of a downhill. The only difficulty was the lack of shoulder and what seemed like a lot of traffic both ways.

Crossin' the Continental Divide

I knew it was too good to be true! About ten miles out of Kremmling, that nasty headwind had found me again. The drivers seem in an awful hurry too. Twice I had to dive off the road because people passing oncoming traffic didn't seem to see me coming towards them. Made it to town, alive, about 3PM.

Probably got some climbing ahead

Decision time. Ended up eating a late lunch, or early supper, and listening to the news on the radio. They should name today "Black Tuesday". I checked my maps and decided that I could push on another 15 to 19 miles to a campsite. Leaving me a much shorter ride tomorrow. Might be able to make it in time for AYCE pizza. So, with the sun already near the horizon, I pushed on.


The profile shows a steady climb immediately leaving town. That doesn't end until I go over Hoosier Pass. And I won't argue with that assessment. I'm definitely not getting any stronger as those miles took everything I had. But I made it, to an empty campground.

Not even going to cook tonight. Just relax and get some sleep with the sounds of the Blue River in the background.

9/10/01 Walden, CO

49.7 / 7494 miles

I hate the wind, hate it with a passion. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. Curse all the wind gods! I'm even having trouble writing this because the wind is trying to rip the journal out of my hands.

Still had trouble sleeping because of this persistent cough. Seems worse when I lay down, or so I rationalize. The sun was up, but I could still see my breath because of the cold. So I decided to have breakfast first at the Bear's Den, then pack up when it was warmer.

The first couple hundred yards climbing out of the river valley seemed so easy. Then that sneaky wind slammed against my face. I was in total shock! Where was my tailwind! I mean I had, what, two or three days of tailwind this whole trip. And it would take all the fingers on both hands of the Vienna Boys Choir to count the days I've had with headwinds. For goodness sake, I've turned around and heading in the other direction! The wind is the devil incarnate. What else can I do but continue on.

More nothin' ahead?

The climb out of the valley went on for almost 15-miles, all against that headwind. Had one downhill but then the route became rolling hills. Long ones. Every time I had thought that the wind was dying down or changing directions, it would hit me again. The only thing that kept me from dipping my head and barreling through was the sight of the snow-covered Rocky Mountains.

Kind of makes the wind seem small when compared to these towering mountains. Nice to have the mountains in view when I crossed over into Colorado. But now, the Colorado Department of Transportation joined forces with the wind to make my day even harder. As I began to climb out of the Platte River valley, the road had been recently oiled, making a very sticky surface to ride on. What else could add to this already wonderful day.

Once I reached Cowdery, CO, it was only nine more miles to Walden. But those last miles came at a cost. The winds began increasing, coming at my side trying to push me off the shoulder and into traffic. Now, it was time to lower my head and push on. Every crest I thought would be my last until I had looked up. Totally worn out, I rolled into town.

Got more cough drops at the store and the clerk recommended the Bowling Alley for a good, cheap lunch. I picked a great day to come through town because Main Street was closed due to repaving.

At the Bowling Alley, I finally figured out what the "Big Game" was on Sunday, the Kansas City Chiefs against the Oakland Raiders (or at least I think it's still Oakland). That tells you how far removed I am from the rest of the testosterone brothers the nation over who gather in front of the alter called ESPN.

But back at the city park, I wander over to the high school next door to watch a few minutes of eight-man football scrimmage with the North Park Wolverines. The EMT's for the game said that it had snowed 4" here the night I was getting rain in Jeffery City. And yesterday, Larry told me that Riverside got 2" of snow that same night. Looks like a trend, only increasing as I head south. But newscasts today say it should stay warm all week. Let's hope they're right this time!

Watchin' the local football game

I had been expecting to see Pete ride in today. If he had, I was going to bow down in homage to anyone who could battle that wind even farther and longer than me. Instead, I see another couple of cyclists headed to the city park to camp.

Joanne and Carl Bertca are from Florida. They started in Virginia, headed west along the northern states, and now are moving south towards San Francisco. Since they're following their own route (as opposed to the TransAm or one of the other established routes), they say I'm the first cyclist they've seen. Turns out, Joanne is an orthopedic nurse, so we had a lot we cold talk about. Unfortunately, I think we monopolized the conversation so Carl didn't get to say much.

I was hoping for breakfast in the morning but think I need to be on the road as soon as possible. That's just in case the wind continues out of the south, giving me a headwind. No town between here and Kremling with the pass about half-way. And, the next day is Breckenridge. Yippie!