one hundred ninety six

THE FINISH LINE

I made the coast of New Hampshire 4044 miles from San Francisco according to my GPS. This includes all of the miles Walter zig zagged around the back roads taking side trips. 

As I arrived I told the motel owner I had ridden from San Francisco, she didn't seem impressed. There was no fanfare just a warm bed and shower. I was more alone that night then any I can remember. 

It rained for the last three days and the next day will have severe storms forecast. I rode up the coast to Bob's Bike shop and met Bob and crew. It was nicer then the last visit, no stitches or x-rays. 

I rented a car and drove to the Akron Canton airport. I slept in the car that night then turned it in when the rental place opened then I rode 30 miles to my Mothers. 

She was cool about my traveling without telling her (for now). I am so tired I'll be like a returning Tom cat for a few days now that I'm in a safe place. I don't have to watch my back or sleep with one eye open. I'll post pictures soon. 

Dave and Will the young English men reached New York safely.

one hundred ninety five

THE REDNECK CHEERS

I reached Vermont this morning just before a storm. I slept under a pavilion next to the Dogtown Saloon in New York, it was a "Redneck" Cheers. They had bar food alcohol and the neighborhood locals. 

I asked if I could camp under the pavilion to avoid the threatening rain.  A few of the local women showed interest in my comfort but I don't think it had anything to do with the rain. I think it was more due to the after work beer break.

The place was wild until 3 am. They were very loud, crazy and drunk. I was tired enough to sleep in spite of the motorcycle burnouts and group sing along. 

The day after day ride is hard to recover from, but I'm so close I won't stop. 

one hundred ninety four

NIAGARA FALLS

 I reached Niagara Fall New York. I rode the Erie Canal until it got boring about seventy miles. 

I rode a while with a local man, one of those special people without a filter.  He had an old rusty Huffy bicycle that needed a lot of work. I made a few adjustments to make it ridable. He was ready to ride with me to the coast but his mom talked him out of it. We rode a mile or two to the rail road tracks where he told his mom he would stop and said goodbye. 

I asked a guy working in a parking garage about motels. He was very interested in what I was doing. After I arrived home he emailed me several times to tell me he was building a touring rig and planing his own adventure.

I found a motel owned by an Indian woman, go figure. She made a big fuss about how I looked. She wanted to put me in an Indie movie. She gave me a room for $25 and invited me to eat with there family. She was actually a movie producer and showed me a few she produced. I was flattered, had a cheap room, home cooked meal but I never heard from her again. 

I am a little thin but I've reached a new level of fitness and toughness. I can ride all day, eat anything, sleep anywhere, and stink up the finest restaurants. I maybe black listed from Sizzler because I eat too much, but I do cook my own meals, well mostly.

Niagara Falls was more then I expected. On to Lake Ontario.

one hundred ninety three

COUNTRY SMELLS

The breeze was humid but cool. The birds chirped in several languages, the air was fresh but lightly manure scented. The beginning of a long day of cycling through beautiful Iowa farm land. 

The moving pictures, the sounds, the smells, and sensations will run through my mind for years to come. My hope is that you can feel and understand these special days through my pictures and words.

one hundred ninety two

TIME FOR A NECESSARY BREAK

After 36 days or more on the road, I have developed the art of being discreet with some necessary bodily functions. On the occasion that I use indoor plumbing, it is a strange sensation not having to watch for cars.

one hundred ninety one

THIS MUST HAVE A STORY

An abandoned tree house in Iowa, I wish I knew it's story. 

one hundred ninety

A WELCOME STOP WITH AN OLD FRIEND

This is John, one of my greatest friends. I knew him in Ohio, then he moved to Arizona where I later moved. John is my "good for me Friend" because he knows me well enough to tell me things I need to hear. He is a man of character and has a great heart, we have had some wonderful and much needed conversations. I'll leave in the morning for wherever.

one hundred eighty nine

A DAY OFF OF THE BIKE

This as an old trolley car  from Chicago. I hope to ride one of these at a local museum later today. I have been off of the bike a full day and will be today. I have a beard, I'm a few pounds lighter and I have less money. 

I'm thinking about heading south to Florida, but I'm still not sure. I've traveled 2800 miles so far. Boston would be 900, Key West Florida would only be 1300...hmmmmmm? I'm torn because I'm wanting to get back home, but don't want this adventure to end.....hmmmmmm? 

Time to break out the maps. By the way those are tan lines not my socks.

one hundred eighty eight

NIGHT AT THE RACES

I reached Chicago Friday afternoon. I slept in a real bed and used inside plumbing at an old friends home. John and Debbie are old friends from Ohio and Phoenix. 

My bike needed some new parts in Omaha. The trip across Iowa was a learning experience because if the truly bad riding conditions. Not one road had a paved shoulder except for I-80 which restricts bicycles. 

A week ago Friday I had a great night at the local mud track car race. I was searching for a restaurant which had closed when I ran into a young farmer who offered me water. 

I asked about the race cars in tow I had seen throughout the day. He said there was a race in the next town 25 miles away. Then he asked if I wanted to go, this was the second time this exact thing happened. 

I camped most of Iowa and Illinois, only one rainy night and one awful day of headwinds. This is absolutely beautiful farm country. I’m glad so many of you are following my blog, I feel like I'm not so alone. Thanks to everyone who posted a comment, keep it up.

one hundred eighty seven

MAKING PEACE WITH THE VOICES

I have had just about enough solitude. I'm again bonded enough to communicate with cattle. My MP3 player broke, no radio, or cell phone and endless distances between anything man made. 

One good thing I've made peace with the voices in my head.

one hundred eighty six

MORNING FROST

I like this picture now that I'm warm, it was a cold morning in Utah.

one hundred eighty five

SHOP LOCAL

700 miles and no Walmart, now that's country. The only store for thirty miles was owned by a young couple who also farmed nearby. It is refreshing to find small America. 

The cash register was a metal box that I think was made for fishing tackle. and ran on the honor system. This place had an innocence that is lost in our big cities. No locked cars, alarm systems, or impatient words. It was worth the ride to know tis still exists.

one hundred eighty four

YOU CANNOT COMPREHEND HOW THIS TASTES

Heavy fuel for Highway 50, the loneliest highway through Nevada. I have an all new concept of BIG. This place is harsh and baron, but I find is amazingly soothing.

one hundred eighty three

NO ONE CAN SEE YOU PUSH IT

The mountain passes were still white and cold. At 7000 ft and over you feel it. No matter how conditioned you are it takes a toll on your lungs. Especially this 55 year set I have. 

I discovered I can sit and spin up the mountain at 4.5 mph or I can get off and push it at 3.3 mph. I'm not embarrassed to say I pushed it over the top.

It's not that you get out of breath, you just feel weak and wimpy. Now that I am again at sub 2000 ft I feel much stronger. I cranked out seven 100 plus days and still had some kick when I arrived in Omaha. 

I will assess the next move in Chicago and head for Boston or Key West Florida.

one hundred eighty two

HAVING THE RIGHT GEAR

A cold night in a free off road Utah campsite near Bryce Canyon. The smell of Sage brush and sub freezing temperatures. 

I have a warm tent, cozy bedding, hot coffee and Top Raman noddles. I doesn't get much better then this.

Having the right gear makes all of the difference at 17 degrees.

one hundred eighty one

BACK TO CIVILIZATION

The motel selection is slim to none, but $59 is beyond my price range. I'll camp tonight then make Omaha tomorrow and sleep in a bed.

The next day I made Omaha after pounding out seven 100 mile days. After I finished the mountains I hit flat ground and a breathable air.  I feel good but the bike needs a little work. 

I’m at the 2200 mile mark, more than half way to Boston, but the thoughts of heading to Florida are tempting. I’ll stay here through Sunday to catch up with a longtime friend and his family. I see many of you have watched my progress. Thanks.

one hundred eighty

CRACKED WATER BOTTLE

Utah near Bryce Canyon last night it was 17 degrees over night in the higher altitudes. I will be on the road early tomorrow to get warm. I'm getting in the groove now after the first 1000 miles in the saddle. I lost a water bottle because it cracked from the sub freezing temperature. 

one hundred seventy nine

FELLOW TRAVELERS

I bumped into these guys back in Davis California. We had no idea we would meet again. We camped together twice in Nevada. We did not ride together. The would rabbit off in the morning and I would drag into where they were camping three hours later.

They were from London and were heading to New York City. The conversations were interesting, youth meets old fart. 

I did fine one other hats and returned it in Kansas. I saw their bikes in front of a restaurant. I walked in, haded him his hat and headed down the road. They made it to New York about the same time I made it to New Hampshire.  

one hundred seventy eight

FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH HELPFUL STRANGERS

I'm in California waiting for the snow in Mormon Pass to melt.  A wonderful couple stopped me and warmed me of the snow closings. They offered me their home for as long as needed. In fact they dropped me off and headed out for a bicycle ride. I was alone in a total stranger’s home, taking a shower, using their computer, and watching TV. I will never understand the kindness of strangers. This trip has surpassed all of my dreams so far.

one hundred seventy seven

WINTER COMES TO THE PUGET SOUND

I stayed with these people on the way north. Winter came and they sent these photos. They were taken from their beautiful home. 

one hundred seventy six

This is where I sit and post, well I wish. This is a beautiful home in Washington, I was fortunate to be invited in.

one hundred seventy five

The third floor game room. I can only imagine enjoying a winter day in this place. Watching a football game on the big screen, a warm fire in the gas fireplace, adult beverages (coffee for me), and good friends. The beauty of the Puget sound would pass the time between shots.

one hundred seventy four

A view from the ferry ride to the main land. The three story house in the center is where I stayed the night.

one hundred seventy three

The water was very clear. If you look closely you can see Salmon.

one hundred seventy two

This was taken from the Clinton Island shore. I watched this ferry make dozens of trips. Tomorrow I will be on board heading for Seattle.

one hundred seventy one

The begining of the ferry ride.

one hundred seventy

My bike is in the bottom right of the picture. The guy above was yelling something about being the king of the world.

one hundred sixty nine

SECURED FOR ROUGH SEAS

My bike was secured for the ferry ride. I made sure my helmet was also secure because on the east coast I almost lost it when it blew out of the back of the boat. 

Some nice people in a small fishing boat plucked it out of the water and found me. I had no idea what had happened to it until I heard them yelling. I was just about to head to the next town to buy a new one. Like I said before, people are really nice.

one hundred sixty eight

DIFFERENT THEN I EXPECTED

The north west is so much different than I thought. Familiar but so different.

one hundred sixty seven

FRESH OR SALT WATER?

Moving toward the Russian river in Washington, it was hard to tell where fresh water starts and salt water ends. This looks like a lake in Iowa, but there were signs of high and low tide. 

I talked to several locals about this unique environment. Several types of fish cross back and forth, but most are salmon. They were catching Rockfish and Coho Salmon in this area.

one hundred sixty six

HIGHWAY SONGS

The call of the highway has been a lifelong passion. My four speed '63 Corsair complete with an eight track player, nine inch coaxial speakers, and a constant diet of James Taylor, and Grateful Dead songs of the road. 

We lived in our cars in those days, traveling hundreds of miles of back country roads almost nightly, smoking Winston’s and drinking Scheduling Little King Ale. 

I wouldn't be caught dead on a bicycle in those days, but the highway had romanced my heart for life.

one hundred sixty five

SOCCER DISASTER 

I began my trip north through Sausalito. There is a bike path through most of it which was filled with joggers and bicycles. 

It passed by a soccer field with a very lively game in progress. However, as the action was focused on one end of the field there was a large dog relieving himself in front of the opposite goal. 

The action moved toward the stinky end of the field and the kids stopped in their tracks and began holding their noses. I was wondering what card the referee would use for this infraction. 

I do know the owned was half way home by now. For some strange reason I notice those special moments.

one hundred sixty four

GREAT PICTURE BY ACCIDENT

This is the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge. The size of it is even more amazing when you walk or ride across it. This shot was just luck, I had not planned this great angle.

one hundred sixty three

OPENING DAY STORY

I work in a grocery store where I regularly talked with a woman who walked across the Golden Gate Bridge the day it opened. She said it was a sunny day in 1937 and thousands of people packed the bridge from shore to shore.

Through the day they lost their little brother.  There were rumors that a few people had fallen over the side so they feared it was him. After a few hours of panic, they found him playing with friends. 

I have driven across the bridge dozens of times. It was part of my weekend bike ride. I rode from Noe Valley to Sausalito for coffee. Then back across the bridge then I followed the shore down the San Francisco coast line for another coffee. Then back to Noe Valley over Twin Peaks.

She talked about opening day like it was yesterday. I gave her a link to this blog, she had her great grandkids pull it up on their computer. She was pleased to see my pictures and read my words. She complimented me on my writing, as several others have. 

I had never thought much about being able to communicate in written words. However, in person I'm very accomplished at bull shit.

one hundred sixty two

A nice lady took my picture.The Golden Gate Bridge was just the beginning of a perfect day. I was off to Canada only a thousand miles north.

one hundred sixty one

Walter poses for another picture,as the morning sun warmed my bones. Walter is the name I gave to my bicycle. I depend on Walter after all of these miles.