Downhill

It is amazing to think that I am in Portland at my best friends place and that the ocean is waiting just 80 miles away.  Oregon treated me much better than Idaho but I was still amazed at how much of the state was desert and mountains.  I crossed into Nyssa and my phone enjoyed playing games with the timezone changes by jumping back and forth depending on which side of the street I was on.  In Nyssa I actually took time to organize myself and bought a state map and marked which towns actually existed and had food, water or camping in them then pedaled on to spend the night in Vale.  The next morn I got about 5 miles out of town before I had to change a tire and just as I was finishing up Eli came pedaling up on a bike just about as loaded as mine.  The two days previous my Mom had ran into him at a gas station and found out that he was taking the same route I was only 40 mile behind me and told him about me, so we actually knew about each other before even meeting.  We joined up and headed northwest on hwy 26 and ate our lunches at a tiny park in the next town.  Even though we had just actually met, it was cool to see how similar we were as solo self supported riders.  Leaving town we ran into some Bike & Builders taking the same route so for the next 40 miles I had more company than the whole trip combined.

We all stayed that night at a state park outside Unity, Eli and I camping near enough the Bike & Builders to camp for free and enjoy their company.  We (Eli and I) cooked some summer sausage and zucchini pasta which went wonderful with cold Coronas we picked up in town 3 miles back (its interesting biking with a 12 pack on ice in your backpack.  Quite refreshing on a hot day!)  Through the course of the evening just one guy from the bike and builders came over and said hi but almost every single girl came by to talk to Eli.  By the way some of the bike and build kids acted it reminded me a lot of summer camp on wheels.  We guessed that about 20-25% of the people there started dating on the trip and we were just about right.

Sitting at the table and talking to Eli and the nice bike and builders it was interesting to see the differance in journeys and how it changes people.  Being supported and with a group the bike and builders were able to extend thier efforts to Habitats for Humanities and joke and have fun.  Some kids even had nerf swords on their bikes.  Eli on the other hand vocally laughed and joked, but in a quieter manner and wasted no physical effort that could be helped.  The lone road and self reliance of doing a solo trip is much better for helping ones self without lots of people to contend with.  Eli and I agreed that the company was nice for a change, but we preferred our way.   And they started playing rap music at 6am.

The next day we pedaled over the mountains to John Day, OR still enjoying the company of the bike and builders then stopped at a grocery store to restock before pedaling on 30 more miles to camp.  Since both of us had been surviving on pasta and peanut butter (not together) we splurged and bought a medaly of veggies and had zucchini, squash, mushrooms, peas, water chestnuts, and onion in a coconut peanut sauce over curry couscous with a cheap bottle of wine.  It hit a 100 degrees that day so we were very very excited to find a block of ice about 8 miles from camp.  When you are on the road you usually only get ice once every couple of days... if your lucky. To find a huge block when you are nearing heat exhaustion is an absolutely glorious thing.  It kept us cool and entertained the last miles in and even chilled the wine down from the 90ish degrees it had gotten.  By far the most delicious meal ever cooked over a whisperlite camp stove!

Doubled my water capacity and had room for a bottle of wine!

The next morn we packed up and headed back into the high desert mountains.  We passed through Mitchel, Or which has exactly two businesses still in business but only the diner was open.  Leaving there we hit 120 degrees on the asphalt in the bottom of the canyon.  In that heat you can not drink enough and every drop you carry is so warm it is disgusting to the tongue.  That combined with a 4000ft climb with all that gear could easily kill a guy.  We survived by stopping every 5 miles and splashing in a stream running next to the road.  Now this stream would be jealous of a garden hose, so you can imagine what the motorists thought seeing two grown bearded men in spandex splashing around in the middle of the desert....  Tiny as it was at least it was cold coming off the mountain and the climb was about as enjoyable as a mountain could be.  Crossing the summit we came into a completely different ecosystem as we finally reached the ocean side of the mountains.  Where a half mile back the flora was all desert plants we started riding past mountain pastures hip deep with grass and flowers.  Trees were taller and greener and even the air was cooler.  A little while later I saw the first cloud I had seen since Dubois Wy, 2 weeks earlier.  Coming out of the mountains we hit a bit more traffic, and one car in particular was nice and slowed down and waited to pass till a straight safe stretch came up.  I was riding behind Eli 20ft and spent all day yelling "car back" to warn him and seeing a cute girl driving I hollered "cute blonde back"  Eli looked as she went by then stood up and cranked trying to catch up on his bike as she disappeared over a hill.  Poor guy, all I could do was tell him that she was gone and he had to let her go.

Coming into Prineville we were pretty exhausted from climbing 80 miles worth of mountains for the second day running and just wanted to get to camp.  About 2 miles out a shitty little Nissan flies by as close as possible while blaring its horn at us and another car followed suite.  About as the asshole drivers (who's mother obviously did things with an alpaca that even the french wouldn't approve of) did this we flipped them off then rode pass an old guy taking his trash out.  I made eye contact with him and shrugged my shoulders while saying "some people don't know how to share the road."  That old fart replied "They probably agree with me that you don't pay for the road"  for the next 60ft we had a running (even civilized) discussion about how bikers do in fact pay taxes and I probably spent more on gas last year than he did and how by his logic that gave me more rights to the road than him.  I didn't stop and waste my momentum to finish the discussion and ended it by standing up and farting in his general direction (hey, up till then I was civilized!) and pedaling on to camp.

In camp we were pleased to find a family from Amsterdam pedaling across the country.  We exchanged stories about beautiful mountains, rolling fields and stupid rednecks.  This campground was unfortunately the nastiest yet on the trip.  In the bathroom I couldn't decide if the smell was me after 80 miles under the desert sun or remnants of deceased occupants.  It was the shower...  After a couple conversations with the locals I decided I had enough entertainment for the day and went to bed.

The next morn I was surprised to see how fast the family from Amsterdam packed up.  It usually takes me 1 hour to get enough coffee in me that I move in an organized fashion but within 30 min of climbing out of their tents they were packed up and ready for the road.  We shared coffee and farewells and they left Eli and I packing up.  In town we stopped at a restaurant and had a real meal.  It was the first cream and sugar I had had in my coffee since Iowa and have to admit I stole some for the next morn.  Eli and I told stories about our journeys and showed each other pictures from along the way enjoying them as much ourselves.  Both of us were apprehensive about ending the journey.  Definitely we were ready to hit the ocean, but I definitely know I didn't like the idea of the journey ending.  It had been so great (although painful) it was impossible to imagine it truly being over.

Splitting ways after 3 days riding together Eli headed straight for the ocean and I turned northwest towards Portland.  I camped that night in a canyon between Madras and Warm Springs along the Deschutes River.  Riding down into the canyon on a steep twisting road I lost my jar of peanut butter I had strapped to my bags and damn near had to change my shorts.  Even the Tetons were not that intense!  At the bottom I realized I missed a perfect video opportunity but there was no way I was climbing out of the canyon to do it again.  On the next little hill (1/10th as steep and windy as the big hill down) I took this vid, I thought it was cool to see how far I actually have to lean into the curves. 

Checking into camp I asked the lady how the road north out of here was.  She looked at me and at my bike and simply said "you will want to shoot yourself"  she was right..  After pitching camp I wandered down for a swim and found the water deliciously cold.  In town I had picked up a litter of beer so I tied it to 25ft of cord and chucked it in the lake to cool down while I cooked supper.  Worked almost as good as the backpack full of ice :)

At camp I met Terry, a logger working in the area for a week.  He gave me a steak and I shared my pasta with him and he got telling stories about his life.  He was born in Oklahoma, Comanche with a bit of Kiowa in him, but raised by a family in Oregon near where he still lives with his wife.  He talked about riding harleys with his brother and father-in-law, how he has friend in LA owns a chopshop (and is a member of Hells Angels) and reworked his bike for him.   He told one store about riding with a bunch of his buddies and having a car cut off his father-in-law.  Apparently they ran the car down and explained that it wasnt polite to do that and very very bad things would happen if a biker actually got hurt.  He also talked about Quanah Parker, his ancestor and how he fought the whites and then smoothly transitioned onto the reservation and became the richest Native American of his time.  When Quanah moved onto the reservation he had 5 wives and the white director told him that that was unacceptable in a christian society and he could only keep one.  Quanah agreed but with the terms that the director would have to choose the one wife and tell the other 4...  He kept all 5.

After hearing about my journey he couldn't believe that I was traveling without a gun.  We discussed calibers and ballistics and learning that I knew the weight of a 30-06 bullet and actually grew up in the country he all but offered me his Ruger 44 mag.  While definitely one of the more interesting people I had met on the trip, a bit of a shady past but still a good person who I honestly liked and he likewise towards me.  I couldn't help but chuckle that I was probably safer camping next to him (still not sure if he was directly associated with the Hells Angels) than I was camping behind any church along the way.

The next day I crawled painfully up out of the canyon and started towards Mt Hood.  Halfway through the morn I happened to glance over at a car next to me and recognized Christina Joseph, a wonderful friend who somehow puts up with my best friend Matt.  It was wonderful seeing them, especially after pedaling there, and Matt joined me riding back into Portland.  We stopped at Mt Hood Brewery for lunch then enjoyed the ride down my last mountain!  Getting to their house I met Dakota, their 10 month old 90lb puppy.  Poor Dakota is one of the weirdest dogs, and even though she looks tough she is completely scared of everything.  A couple months ago she was sitting on the floor wagging her tail and apparently saw her tail out of the corner of her eye, got scared and jumped up and ran straight into a wall...  a very special dog.

Here at the Josephs I rested up a few days, and now I am ready to take off for the Ocean.  My brother and nephew Dom are coming down from Seattle and tonight I will camp with the sound of the waves.  Hard to believe I am here, a couple days ago I was ready to turn around and start pedaling back.  I sit here with my coffee not thinking about what it will be like to feel the sand and salt, but of all the mountains and emotions of the past 3 months.  It has been amazing.

Potato

Ok, so through the wonderful state of Idaho.  Really wishing for a sarcasm font here.  I saw a lot of lava rock, a few lizards, and potato's.  Pretty sure Idaho's best kept secret is how ugly it really is.  I literally rode 30 miles and did not see a single living animal outside 2 lizards.  No cows, no birds, lots of bones.  Which is funny because I passed through towns named "Eden", "Paradise Valley" and "Bliss".  Guessing there's a bit of a drug problem because you would have to be on some wicked stuff to think that living there was bliss.

And since Idaho was summed up in a few sentences I figured I would go back and talk about some of the things in Wyoming I liked but missed in my last blog.  Food was significantly more interesting with a bit better of a pantry.  I celebrated crossing the continental divide with scallops in an olive oil and light tomato sauce.  Had caffeinated chicken over mushroom wild rice (you sprinkle coffee grounds on the chicken to give it a more earthy flavor) and didn't have to eat oatmeal for every breakfast. 

Also a huge thanks to my mom.  Not too many mothers who make the effort she did in helping me through Wyoming and part of Idaho.  Even fewer moms who could handle a 3/4 pickup with 25ft horse trailer through mountain passes at 11% grades and still be ok to camp in grizzly bear country.  Pretty sure my sanity and health is due to her help.  Thanks mom!

and with that my time at the library is up (no more laptop again) so I need to get pedaling down the road into my LAST mountain range :)  Next week I will be in Portland then the OCEAN

God Bless Wyoming and Keep It Wild

 These words were the last entry in a diary of a 15 year old girl back in 1925. I dont know and cant find anything else about Helen Mettler beyond that diary entry, chances are the wind, sun and snow erased everything else back to nature as it does in Wyoming.

Of all the places in the world I have been, Wyoming will always be special. Besides being the place where I was born it's mountains and plains have always had a strong connection for me. Feeling the wind and sun on my face and smelling the sage and pines is as comforting to me as the squeaky second step in your old childhood home. Being able to pedal through the deserts, plains, and passes that make it such an unique state and seeing the mountains on the horizon and smelling the flowers blooming along the rivers brought me back to a peaceful mind.

I pedaled from Sundance over to Wright through some low hills and lots of desert. Where more civilized states are kind enough to post signs telling you that you are a long way from anything, Wyoming just kinda figures that you are smart enough to read a map and see for yourself. If not, well then that sucks for you. From Wright I pedaled 90 miles of sage and sand to Casper, where I met my Aunt, Uncle and cousin for supper. They ranch down by Rock River, Wyoming and were kind enough to drive up just to see me for a bit and be amazed at what 6000 calories worth of ribs looks like in a skinny guy. After Casper I started off for Shoshone where Mom and I camped next to the Boysen Reservoir on the Wind River Reservation. At the campground there I saw the cutest thing I have seen all week. A little blonde girl, maybe 4 years old out fishing about 10ft from shore and neck deep but still with her cowboy hat on. I don't think she caught anything but not for lack of trying.

Leaving Shoshone I headed up towards Dubois, starting the climb of the Rockies. After 20 miles I ran into some other bikers heading the same direction and joined up with them. After a quick 15 miles at 18mph despite a hefty headwind we settled down to a painful crawl up the hills as the wind steadily increased. I road most the time with Philip, a nice guy from Alexandria, VA and met up with him the next day as well after the continental divide. I also met Jerry, a 71 year old gentleman on his RETURN trip across the US. Just goes to show your never to old to do something foolish and chase your dreams.

Mom and I headed out of Dubois that evening with groceries and lots of bear warnings and found a nice place to camp next to the Wind River in the Shoshone Nat Forest. No bears luckily and we enjoyed a watching the sun set behind the snowy peaks. Really wished I would have brought a fishing pole but I probably wouldn't have left for a week or two. Climbing up to the continental divide at 9600 ft above sea level actually wasn't quite as bad as I expected. But then again I expected pure hell with the mountain roads, low oxygen at that elevation, and the occasional bear or indian skirmish. Hit lots of road construction though, and with the blasting and heavy machinery I had to ride with the pilot car through it. A nice rest for a mile heading up the mountain but really sucked because it cut 7 miles of my downhill out! But then after the construction I was able to enjoy cruising down the mountain and rejoined Philip until we parted paths at Moran Junction, north of Jackson. After turning south from there and heading to Jackson I felt like I was back on the east coast with all the damn traffic. It had been nice not to deal with jersey drivers (although it was a Maryland goatsucking ratbastard that almost clipped me). Yes after many hours on the road you find creative ways to question the heritage of drivers that don't give us bikers enough room, so unless you want it implied that you or your parentage did things that would make a Bangkok hooker gag, SHARE THE ROAD!

Jackson, I decided, no longer belongs in Wyoming and it would be a hell of a lot better with out all the people. Beautiful mountains and great parks but it made me sad to see that you could order sushi at 6400 feet above the sea. The roar of private jets offset the breeze through the cottonwoods and I was all to happy to leave the tourists and pertinacious asses behind. The only consolation was knowing that the taxes off the money spent guarantied that Teton National Park will forever remain uncommercialized and that elk and moose and bison will have a place to roam (as long as the fricking Maryland drivers don't run them over...)

Leaving Jackson I headed through Wilson, Wy (of course I forgot to get a pic) then on up the Teton Pass. I climbed 2400 feet in about 7 miles with up to an 11% grade. Yes I stopped... often... BUT I did find a nice pair of Izuni Pearl gloves to replace the pair I lost. For some reason the original owner did not want to turn around and get them... After getting to the top I sat on the edge of the mountain and was amazed at what I had just done. The Rockies, source of my nightmares for the last month, where quite literally below me. Going down the other side I had to use my brakes because of the curves and only hit 50mph... Greeting me at the base of the mountain was the Grand Teton Brewery. Needless to say the day ended there.

After riding through some of the mountains of Idaho and absolutely loving my time in Victor (great town, go there instead of Jackson and drive a bit farther to get to Yellowstone) I cheated a bit and caught a ride through some of the potato farms and lava fields that makes up most of Idaho.  I realized that I had started this journey looking for something other than lots of miles and didn't really need to pedal the 80-100 a day I had planned on.  Yes I wont have pedaled every inch, but I would rather spend an extra week with my nephews before oz so cheated I did.  If anyone thinks too ill I would gladly meet you in Portland mid August for a self-sustained race up to Duvall, WA (points granted for culinary too)

Center of the Nation

Took off today from my parents place west of Belle Fourche heading towards Sundance, WY after getting the new tire put on my bike.  After 7 miles I stopped in Aladdin, WY to adjust my rear derailure and met some nice folks from Perth Australia who were tandem biking west to east with a large supported group.  Nice folks who told me that the roads in Oz are not entirely biker friendly and the road trains tend to make riding there more entertaining than it should be.  After 10 more miles I stopped to pull my rear tire off because it still wasn’t shifting right and found that a washer was missing in my rear cassette allowing the cogs to wiggle back and forth.  After a 30 min rest Mom came by and picked me up and brought me back to Rushmore Bicycle and had the mechanic there work on the tire again, only a 5 min fix ignoring the 30 min wait and 50 mile round trip drive.  But he confessed to his mistake and accepted the blame, which is about all you can ask (except for doing it right the first time) but I did get to eat lunch with my old man again.  Leaving Spearfish we passed 3 bikers heading west, loaded down almost as bad as I am, so on arriving near intersection where I quit biking that morn I waited for them and joined up as they came along.  Dan, Sebastian, and Jeff were their names and they had started biking in Brooklyn, NY and were heading home to San Jose, CA.  www.jeffeq.com/biketrip is their blog and they are great guys.  We pedaled along swapping stories from the road, finding out which bike shops and towns we both passed through then after about 7 miles after joining them we came along a guy pushing a cart.  Jack had started walking from Jacksonville, FL and was walking home to Seattle, WA.   This whole trip I haven’t met anyone crossing the country till this morn when I met the group heading east then that afternoon on an empty stretch of Wyoming highway I met up with Jeff, Sebastian, Dan, and Jack.  We sat on the side of the road for probably an hour talking before the four of us on bikes went ahead to Sundance.  We got to where my mom had parked and I offered homemade cookies and cold water and we sat and talked more and eventually Jack walked over and joined the group again.  While I only made it 25 miles today and it started out with me questioning the heritage of the bike mechanic at Rushmore Bicycle in Spearfish, SD, but riding and trading stories with the San Jose guys and meeting Jack made it one of the best days on the road.  Safe travel guys!

It was nice spending time with the parentals though over the weekend while I waited for that tire to show up.  It gave me a chance to get the bike back in tune and make sure the rack didn’t loosen at all.  Went in Spearfish Thursday for happy hour and met the president of Black Hills State University along with some of the other top administration there who wanted to hear about my trip.  Ya, I’m kinda a big deal.. :)  Back on the farm I worked on the list my dad had ready for me (didn’t involve fencing this time.. a first in over 12 years)  then Sunday I went to help the neighboring ranch, Leistmisters Triangle “H” move cows.  Its been a long while since I had chased cows and I have never chased cows in country that rough, or beautiful.  I spent 7 hours riding over mountains, down canyons and through trees and I have a new respect for the cowboys who work that type of land. 

Tomorrow I start for Casper, where I will meet up with my Aunt Shelly for supper later this week then I will head on over the mountains.  Almost to the downhill part of the journey!

High, Wide and Lonesome

One more state down, total of 7 done with 3 more to go :)  Of course those last three consist of two mountain ranges and a couple small deserts but that's just a few minor details...  I have been homeless for over 2 months now and on the road for 35 days and each morning I still am filled with joy when I turn the bike to the open road and continue towards the pacific.

I crossed South Dakota on Highway 34, from Madison to Sturgis.  So far on my journey I have tried to stay to the back roads and off the major highways but I just didn't have any other options here.  Surprisingly Highway 34 was a beautiful road to bike down, nice shoulders and usually following railroad tracks, rivers, even the old Deadwood Wagon Train Trail.  The few places where the shoulder was kinda narrow were so far from anything that a car would pass every 10 miles or so and just go around me.  This year has been really wet for the farmers and ranchers too.  Even passing by the Badlands I was surrounded by lush green pastures that are usually borderline desert, which is nice because I passed two gas stations in the 200 miles between Pierre and Sturgis.

My friend Joe accompanied me on the road from Madison to Pierre, riding with me and providing support as well.  We spent the night of the 4th in tiny Woonsocket, SD (population 700) at a free campground in their city park.  We were surprised that night by how extensive of a fireworks show they put on.  Towards dusk the town filled up and the streets through town started buzzing with people on four wheelers, golf carts, go karts, lawn tractors, pretty much any type of motorized vehicle without a license plate that could carry a cooler of beer.  Once the fireworks started I was amazed to find that it rivaled the 4th fireworks show at Philadelphia.  This is kinda sad because Philly has a population just shy of 1.5 million people compaired to Woonsocket's 700.  The next morn we had to wait out a nice little rain storm at the local cafe, 1.5 inches of rain in 2 hours but then soon got on the road.

Going from Woonsocket to Pierre the towns became farther apart then just kinda didnt show anymore.  I stopped for lunch at Mac's Corner on the edge of the Crow reservation.  As I was checking out the grizzled old lady behind the counter commented that it was a pretty day to be riding a bike then asked which way I was heading.  I answered west then she asked Oregon or Washington, which I answered Oregon.  She replied "Heading to Astoria, right?"  I was amazed that someone actually knew where I was destined and asked how she knew where I was heading.  She just shook her head and said "I get you crazies in here all summer long"  Her little store was the last place for 50 miles till I made camp on the Missouri just outside of Pierre.

As I was pedaling up out of the river basin of Fort Pierre I passed the sign posted above.  Up till this point I have had a town ever 10 miles that I could stop in and restock.  It made me smile to think that I had 66 miles to go before I pass anyplace where I could buy a cold drink or a sandwich.  Knowing that I had everything on my bike that I needed to survive (in somewhat comfort even) for a couple days and the assurance that I could handle most problems as they came up coupled with the joy of the open road and wide open scenery that I grew up in made it a wonderful day.  Even better about 40 miles down the road I met up with my mom :D.  She had driven from Belle Fourche to meet up with me and give me some support through the desolate regions and Indian reservations.  After unloading all my gear I took off down the road about 100lbs lighter.  It took me 15 miles to figure out the balance of the bike and how to crank up a hill without all that weight to push against.  That night we camped in Plainview, SD, which consists of a church on one side of the road and a graveyard on the other.  Its living population consisted of one tree. 

The next day I set off for the Black Hills across the wide open spaces.  3 towns that were marked on my 2009 road map didn't exist anymore and most places I would pass a tree ever 5 miles or so.  After leaving Union Center I topped a ridge as saw Bear Butte siloetted against the Black Hills, almost 40 miles away.  20 more miles down the road my rear tire started wobbling pretty bad and I had to stop and true it.  I saw my wheel had cracked significantly and couldnt support the pull from one spoke.  After adjusting the tension on the surrounding spokes I got it somewhat functional and got another 15 miles down the road before it got so bad I risked ruining the tire and had to stop just shy of Bear Butte.

Grr's Roadside Bike Shop

Luckly it happened with my mom driving support and I didnt have to risk missing steak and drinking a beer on my parents porch with the milky way above and coyotes howling in the hills.  Here in a couple days a replacement tire will show up and I can continue on through Wyoming.  Till then I will enjoy my time with the fam.

Dakota

I finally made it to South Dakota!  I slowed down a bit through Iowa to spend time with friends and family along the way.  I did my best to lower the overall quantity of beer, steaks, and delicious wine in the state and like to think that I made a significant impact.  Surprisingly after closing down the bars in Iowa City with my cousin I still managed to get up and on the road 5 hours later and pound out 83 miles in the Iowa hills!  What can I say, I am a professional :)

It was great to spend time with Ben, my cousin in Iowa City.  I literally shot him a message out of the blue and ended up staying an extra day.  In Des Moines I had possibly the best steak that a restaurant can serve with my Aunt and Uncle.  Its nice being back in an area where its safe to order beef in a restaurant and not be disappointed.  The scallops on the other hand... they were ok.  After Des Moines I took a nice 60 mile bike path north west towards Okiboji.  Great trail, but damn are the bikers there pertinacious asses.  Only 1 in 5 would say hello, and when I stopped for lunch there was a group of 8 eating at the Subway too.  I parked the bike said hello to them, one guy nodded and the rest just looked the other way.  Normally my bike with all the gear is a great conversation starter, but apparently their spandex cycling panties were on just a bit too tight.

Fought a 20-30 mph head wind for two days trying to get to Okiboji and had to cut Beresford out of the trip because I just didn't have the miles in me.  Sorry to those I missed seeing, i would have loved to but being on the bike does limit me a wee bit and I am horrible at guessing when I will be at a specific location.  Okiboji was great, spent the morning out on the lake then hit the road again that afternoon.  I camped about 50 miles from Sioux Falls between a small grove and a cornfield.  It was great listening to pheasants cackle in the field and to recognize the rocks and fauna in my camp. 

The last 40 miles into Sioux Falls the next day was nice.  It was weird coming into town, and it took me most the day to truly realize that I was in Sioux Falls and that I had in fact pedaled there.  To come into town on the bike and recognize streets and landmarks was a great feeling!.  Had supper with my best friends parents, Linda and Ron Joseph.  I made it 2 steps in the door before Ron questioned my heritage :)  some things never change and I really could expect that he would improve in his old age.  Great people.  I wrapped up the evening with some great beers at Monks with Joe as we planned our ride towards Pierre starting Sunday.

The ride from Sioux Falls to Madison was great, the fastest 50 miles I have ever done.  With a 20mph tail wind I was able to maintain 26mph on the flats without any effort.  It took me 3 hours to cover the same ground it took me 8 hours two days before when I was fighting the headwind. Riding into Madison was another trip :)  Seeing the old place and how little the town has changed since I left 5 years ago.  Of course AT&T doesn't work there so I couldn't call Jon to have him meet me for lunch, so i figured I would just go to the Stadium and use their phone.  I walked in the door and recognized another old friend and had him call Jon to let him know I made it.  Gotta love a small town :)



Drinking with friends last night telling old stories not only made me feel a bit old, but reminded me of some of the greatest times in my life.  Drinking on the front porch as summer storms came rolling in, playing scrabble with stolen bar banners, wheelchair jousting, the worlds worst working pickup line (involving thirsty monkeys), singing classic songs like "The Only Gay Eskimo" and "Rich Young Dumb Nymphomaniac" into the wee hours of the morning after the bars sent us home.  Sitting on the steps of the house I used to call home smiling to myself as the memories rolled through my mind today I was once again reminded how lucky I am to have found so many great friends at every turn of my life. 

Cheers to you my friends