A DISTANT STORM HEADING MY WAY
On a small bicycle weighing ninety pounds with less then one horse power you are at the mercy of every whim of mother nature. At times I felt like a row boat in the middle of the ocean.
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.
The waters looked cold but I had no idea how cold. The winter snow pack must have been heavy in the Cascades. There were large building size ice chucks above the highway. They were only a few miles away so the water was coming directly from the ice pack...brrrr! 
Green, green, green I will always love green. I lived many years in Arizona and fell in love with the desert. However I still love green.
My strange method of travel is simply the way I want to travel. A motor home is an adventure, but the physical stress of my bicycle, dealing with the elements, finding safe harbor each night, and the amount of time involved is what I love. Yes, my butt gets sore, my body gets tired and dirty, I get hot, cold, and wet. The days are long and lonely. Why do I love it so much? .........................Good question.
Wide berms, sunshine, fresh air, 4000 miles ahead of me and I'm wearing sunglasses.
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.
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.
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. 
