two hundred twenty two
A part of America I missed so much. The back roads are the reason I do this. Every place has a flavor, but the smells and sounds of the country are my favorite. The trees are more evergreen, the barns are a little different, but it's all familiar to this country boy at heart.
two hundred twenty one
My first night off of the road was behind a small church in Washington state. There was a good chance that there would be a heavy dew so under an awning is always good.
The back roads of Washington were quiet. I did what I tried not to do and put in way too many miles for the first day. It was an 80 plus day with a few hills, it was probably adrenaline. I ate pasta and talked to the preacher for a couple of hours. He was a very large fellow with a great sense of humor. He had a lot of questions about my gear and previous adventures. I was back in the real America, not the one on TV.
two hundred twenty
BUTTERFLIES
Doing one last gear check to get ready for the endless journey. Key West is just the name of a city at this point, it is so far away I know not to waste time trying to wrap my mind around it.
I feel so out of shape in this picture, but I know I will do OK if I take it easy and keep my hip from acting up. I trained in San Francisco only a little with a full load, but did frequent light road bike training rides. I think the hills gave my hip joints more flexibility, but I must be careful. A goodnight of sleep and at first light I will head out.
two hundred nineteen
DID I FORGET SOMETHING?
Well, it has been a very long strange trip since I last posted. Life has some twists and turns and a few bumps. I hit a very large bump, oh those affairs of the heart.
Well, I'm back to update you on my adventures. Walter is striking a pose in Vancouver BC at the start of my latest trip. It was summer in Canada and the idea was to leave my car with a friend and ride to Key West Florida.
I'll try to post daily to get this trip down in digital before I forget everything. Thanks to all who have followed my misadventures and have taken the time to write.
two hundred eighteen
WALTER'S SEXY SISTER
This is a picture I had posted before. I haven't given this bike a name, but it's the one I ride almost daily. I got a great deal in Mesa on this light full carbon fiber frame bike. the components fairly high end quality. It only weighs 18.5 pounds vs the 90 pounds my touring bike weighs loaded.
Now that I live in San Francisco Walter is stored away waiting for our next adventure. I can't ride without hearing the call of the road. For now I'll explore the hills and coastlines in and around San Francisco.
This touring thing has marked me for life.
two hundred seventeen
TWIN PEAKS
This is overlooking San Francisco from Twin Peaks facing east, I live down in that clutter of houses. San Francisco is very congested, but it is very alive with every type of food, language and ethnic group. I don't do many long rides like I did in Phoenix, but they are a lot more aerobic. I'm becoming a very good hill climber.
two hundred sixteen
two hundred fifteen
NOE VALLEY 24th STREET
two hundred fourteen
I THINK WHEN HE LEFT THE HOUSE WEIRD WAS THE POINT
two hundred thirteen
THE OFFICE
This is where I have been for the past few months. My
new job in San Francisco is much different than any I knew existed. The almost
forty years I worked in the meat and grocery biz was more than enough. I work
on web sites and do odd jobs and live with a house full of great people.
I get
a place to stay and a few bucks and the use of a very nice computer. I'm not a
computer guy, but this is a great chance to learn. I spend endless hours
hunting and pecking at this desk and am always glad I'm not punching a clock
and sporting a necktie. I'll try to post more so stay tuned.
two hundred twelve
TAKING A BREAK WAITING OUT THE STORM
Eureka Nevada on the loneliest highway route 50. I started my journey a bit too early, but it is hard to plan any trip that will take two months.
Spring is a season of weather turmoil, so the occasional late snowfall can be expected. This one was coupled with high winds and a very low wind chill.
Water would freeze in a water bottle in minutes, and the roads were slippery. The building I stayed in was a closed restaurant, part of a campground. The day was spent trying to stay warm, and listening to short way radio.
I heard a BBC broadcast and some Spanish baseball. Later the owner of the camp ground stopped and told some great local stories. They were about Mormon crickets, local whore houses, military night maneuvers, and the local who killed who history.
This old mining town sat 78 miles from Ely, and 68 miles from Austin, this was what I found later to be "the big city".
two hundred eleven
A DISTANT STORM HEADING MY WAY
The obsession of most touring cyclists is to know the weather in advance. I have had many campsite conversations of hope or dread of upcoming headwinds, tail winds, floods, fires, avalanches, hurricanes, tornados, earthquakes, meteor showers, plagues or rain, most of the time they are wrong.
I however choose to live in ignorant bliss because I can't change it plus I like surprises. If it rains, I have rain gear, if there is a headwind it just takes longer and if it is too bad I hole up in my tent, pavilion, coffee shop, baseball dugout or a cheap motel.
Through Kansas and Nebraska, tornado warnings were excepted so I camped in low protected spots. I love extremes and this trip was filled with sub freezing snow covered high altitude climbs, ninety degrees with high humidity, long hot dry desert stretches, flood and fire detours and the occasional afternoon thunderstorms.
Touring is a true adventure and weather is a big part of that adventure.
Two hundred nine
THIS IS THE SECOND THOUGHTS STAGE
I'm on a very nice bike through the center of Sacramento California. In Davis I had a long talk with a local cyclist about touring. He had many many questions. This convinced me to take more time to talk. I believe he was a visitor to my blog for most of my trip.
two hundred eight
COMMANDO CAMPING
The deer and wild turkeys were so tame they grazed within ten feet of my tent. The morning was the first of many rainy days. I found a quiet restaurant to hang out until the rain stopped.
two hundred seven
NOT JUST THE LAST BUT THE ONLY STOP
They were familiar with cycling tourists because there was no where else to stop. It was another forty miles to the next town, this was a long long way from Starbucks, McDonald's or Walmart.
That trailer is the motel. There were eight rooms $45 per room. We were in Nevada perhaps they were used for more then sleeping. I camped just before the next town.
two hundred six
FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH GENEROUS STRANGERS
This is Junior, a dog who became my best friend while camping north of San Francisco. This was a truck farm and chicken farm owned by a very hospitable couple. After I set up my tent they invited me in for a wonderful meal with candles and linen napkins. This was a great start to my trip. Junior spent much of the night sleeping by my tent.
two hundred five
NEVADA STATE HIGHWAY 50 KNOWN AS THE LONELIEST HIGHWAY
The treeless landscape allowed a strong wind to blow with an eerie silence. My ears lost that background tone we all have from the noise of the daily rat race. After a few days of quiet I begin to truly hear. I could hear trucks and cars from five or more miles away.
They would first give a hint they were real as small moving speck on the horizon, then they grew large enough to be real. Soon I could determine if it was a car or truck. As the noise grew clearer then louder, then in a brief moment it became larger and louder then life.
Only a few feet away multiple tons of speeding mass rushed by me at seventy miles per hour or more, the deafening noise and the blast of air was mixed with a momentary look into another set of human eyes.
In a moment the brief encounter goes quiet and fades into the distance. I return to the sounds of my breathing, the ticking of my clip in peddle and my thoughts.
two hundred four
A BIG TYPE OF BEAUTY
Nevada has a big type if beauty. If you look at what is
directly around you, it seems dry, gray, and lifeless. However, at a distance
or looking at the bigger picture it is breathtaking. US route fifty known as
“the loneliest road" is a full week of surreal silence and beauty. The snow
level was 6000 feet in elevation; I knew I would soon be there.
two hundred three
THE SHOE TREE
It got my attention but I'm sure everyone who passes wonders when and how this strange ritual had begun. I'll make a guess, a large amount of alcohol was involved.
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