13°F Man-sicle

I sat in the driver seat not actually knowing where I was or how I got there.  My friend Jimmy and I were driving down an endless road when I turned to continue our conversation. But things weren’t quite right. I felt an eerie sense of recognition as the surroundings melted and yet we continued. Jimbo looked back and I followed suit. In the rear, I was in disbelief at the scene unfolding. The clenching muscles of a large brown thoroughbred contracted violently and rhythmically. It raced directly at us, behind the vehicle. My foot floored the icy gas pedal. I looked back once again just to realize a detail even more strange than the current predicament. The straining, toothy-grinned horse chasing after our car was wearing my green cycling jersey and on the verge of ripping it with each progressive gallop.

Instantly, the frosty tentacles of reality peeled open my eyes to a dark, familiar tent. What a weird dream. Why? Was it the cold weather? Or the pure-sugar Gu Energy Chomp chewables that I pounded before bed? Or maybe the fact that I told Tess I have been eating like a horse? No clue. I thought you needed to know.

                I was wrapped up in my Northface Cat’s Meow rated at 20 degrees and was uncomfortably frigid. Let me put it this way. I was as cold as the Rockies, and had I been a bottle of Coor’s Light, I would have endorsed a deep-blue, cold activated silhouette of the mountains, ready for your satisfaction. My breath was visible and my feet were stinging, nearly at the point of losing sensation. Urinating on them was not an option at this point. Let me side-track for a moment, considering the fact that you have continued to read my story this far. I don’t know what it is about my pain and suffering that makes for your enjoyment, all I know is that I have had the most positive comments about my instances of misery. Maybe you’re sadistic, I’ll continue with my story.

                Time came to a standstill at 4:05am, as I contemplated my options in approaching the current circumstances as if I had somehow slipped into Inception’s lowest dream stage. My choices were limited considering I did not have a car with a heater to save me. I could…

A. Add on more clothing.

B. Boil water and fill water bottles – place bottles in sleeping bag.

C. Do push-ups.

D. Remain in sleeping bag and start crying.*

(*For those of you who would like the actual answer, you will never know – for clarification, the accounts herein may or may not be accurate depictions of reality. I have to preserve what reputation I have left after earlier postings. Therefore A, B, C were conducted and D is incorrect)

                Something had to be done. I forced myself out of the mummy bag which, although cold, was magnitudes warmer than the rest of my tents interior. I layered myself with clothing which seemed to be lined with a liquid nitrogen interior that branded my skins warm surface. I activated my headlamp and unzipped my tent, exiting into the dark, desolate arcticland the locals called Sergeant, CO. Stumbling, I made my way to the iced-over picnic table which housed my Whisperlite International backpacking stove. Violent shivering took hold as I scoured my pouch for my Boston Red-Sox lighter I had picked up in New York along my route. Here it is, please please please light. After rotating the fuel-injection system clockwise I smelled fuel and Flick[ed] [my] Bic. Flick. Flick, Flick. Flick, Flick, Flick. Please light. You don’t understand how important this is to me little guy, please just this once. Flick, Flick, Flick. Nothing. I’ll do anything for you, ANYTHING. Flick, Flick.

                Flick. I was Tom Hanks in Castaway. FIRE! I was the prehistoric man celebrating the creation of something magical.

I boiled water, placed it in my water bottles, and slipped them inside of my bag. Just before weaseling my way into the comforts of my Cat’s Meow, I did push-ups. Helpful tip #26: Contracting muscles creates heat, so push-ups will help to raise your bodies temperature. I meowed upon entering my thermally sufficient, water heated man-cave of a sleeping bag.

Daybreak. You know the end of a scary movie where the sole survivor recognizes the long-awaited appearance of the sun, backed by light-hearted music signalling the end of something horrible? That was me. I woke up at around 8am and the sun was up. I immediately darted to the comfort of the nearby convience store where the locals told me that the temperature had dipped to 13°F just before dawn.

Enough Said.

Oh. More good news. I received this as I climbed.

http://www.wildcat.arizona.edu/index.php/article/2011/10/alum_bikes_wishes_across_the_country

I ride in the shadows of the Rockies

“Mind strong, body strong, try to find equilibrium, head straight, screwed on…”

I have spent the last few days in Colorado Springs knowing that I have miles of climbing just hours to the west. I am now on the west coast, on mountain time, where I can taste the finish line. It’s funny how crossing an arbitrary boundary can elicit such disbelief from those of you who track the ride; or how it brings my simmering feelings of hope and happiness to a boil. The Springs were a reprieve, lending both mental and physical recuperation from a stretch of high miles faced on the flatlands.

I was able to really experience the town thanks to Sarah, a friend I made in Wichita while staying with Megheen and Clint. We bouldered in The Garden of the Gods and then stopped in Manatou for Mexican Food. 

After lunch we hit the arcade, which sported games from all eras, including pinball, penny games, and my favorite, PacMan. I even got the high score on Ms. PacMan -- Mom, you aint got nuthin’ on me. 

Sarah's roommates were awesome. It was nice to chill, listen to music, and learn to play Settlers of Cattan. I'd have to say though, Figaro was the coolest cat of all. I'll miss you bro, until next time.

Leaving Colorado Springs was like leaving a cozy, warm bed on early on an icy morning. After running a few errands, Sarah and I made it to Nick's bike shop in Pueblo where Nick, the bike god himself, cleaned and maintained my grimy bike. Another awesome surprise... I received a care package from Bruce, at Fair Wheel Bicycles in Tucson, Arizona which was the most epic assortment of cycling supplies ever.

Thank you all. I'd love to stay and write some more, but as the favorite quote of my old friend goes....

“The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep”

Crazy Weather and Kind People

Kansas has been in an epic drought. On Wednesday, upon leaving Wichita, there were winds from the south, southeast between 40 and 50 mph. They were at my back for 40 miles which caused my average pace to be about 25mph. Once I reached Nickerson, I headed due west, which meant I had a nasty crosswind that made for a squirrely ride. At points, my bike and I were tilted into the wind so steeply that, had the gusts suddenly stopped, I would have fallen over. The lack of moisture in the soil allowed the wind to stir up a large amount of dust. I decided that it would be best to tie my shirt around my face to act as a barrier to the particulates in the air.

In two days, I made it roughly 170 miles from Wichita and stopped in Ness City, Kansas. I ate an authentic Mexican dinner consisting of a huge green burrito filled with juicy chicken and topped with melted cheese. To put the icing on the cake, I had a Corona with lime, which transported me to the warm summer days spent on the beaches in Rocky Point. I chatted with a nice couple who also cycled in their free time. We spent most of the dinner talking about Kansas and my bike ride. When they left, I shook their hand and they wished me luck. I stayed and made phone calls and took the opportunity to charge my cell phone. At about 6:30pm, I decided it was time to set up camp, so I made my way to the cashier to pay my bill. They turned me away from the register, saying that my bill had been paid. THANK YOU!! …another instance of the thoughtful and kind people along my route.

 

I camped at the city park and called my mom several times to confirm that the tornado warnings in Kansas were not in my particular area. She said that they were not, but that I should expect severe thunderstorms between 4am and 8am. This prediction of the NWS was accurate; I was rudely awakened by an intense electrical storm that sent bolts of lightning so close that immediately after witnessing the flash I felt the thunder. I took the day off since predictions stated that hail was a significant possibility. I am getting close to the Colorado border, and plan to cross tomorrow.

As of now, I just got out of the jacuzzi of the Best Western in Scott City thanks to my grandpa! I showered, did laundry, ate pasta from Pizza Hut, and even watched some TV. Tomorrow I am going to push for Lamar, CO which is 120 miles but the weather looks good and I feel awesome. 

Justin

I think I've entered the dustbowl

Scott, Mitsy, and Mitchell - Ozark, MO 

I met up with Scott and family thanks to Lisa Jackson, my high school computer teacher who has been priceless in helping me to connect with kind people to stay with. If you're reading, I cannot thank you enough!! Missouri was the toughest ride yet, thanks to the Ozarks, which are often compared to a roller coaster ride. I've heard estimates that the adventure cycling route in southern Missouri has roughly 20,000' of elevation change, which wouldn't surprise me. Needless to say, meeting Scott and Mitsy and staying in their beautiful home was an oasis after days of camping and climbing.

Joplin, MO

After staying Ozark, MO, I headed to Joplin, MO which, as most have probably heard, was devastated by an EF5 tornado in May of this year. I rode into town at about 6:30pm and was absolutely starving. I looked to the Yelp app on my phone (which finds local businesses) and found a pizza joint that received great reviews. It turned out to be at a gas station. A bit disappointed but too tired to trek to another restaurant, I ordered a large 15" pizza and ate the whole thing... Best gas station pizza I have had. A bit uncomfortable, I rode to a park on the south side of town. It was eerily quiet and at sunrise it would be obvious why.

Galina, KS - Old Route 66

My phone stopped working after I camped in Joplin so I went old-school, relying on signs and the advice of locals. I crossed in to Kansas just outside of Joplin on the Old Route 66 which is a dilapidated skeleton of the once thriving, business-laden trans-American highway. Galina, KS had interesting western architecture and a certain unidentifiable character that transported me back  in time. The rundown and boarded-up condition of the buildings served as evidence of the routes removal from the highway system and made me nostalgic for this drive-in diner boom which I had never been a part of.

5 miles west of Walnut, KS

At sunset, nearly every day, I start to get a bit anxious. I don't have adequate equipment for night riding so I realize the danger in continuing on at dark. However, I have progressively pushed a bit further with each day. It's like when you were a young kid at the beach and you grew confident in your swimming and wave-avoidance abilities. As you inch your way out further and further into the abyss of the ocean, it's not long before you falter and find yourself fighting desperately against a rip-current as your life flashes before your eyes. I was at this point of desperation when, just over the horizon, I saw a church steeple and a few cars parked in the front lot. I pulled in and said hello. Apparently, I had unknowingly stumbled upon Immanuel Lutheran, a common shelter for trans-American cyclists. They were prepared for my visit and I was smiling from ear to ear when I was served dinner, allowed to shower, and given other luxuries such as wi-fi and a place to sleep. Thank you Jay! I never had the chance to get a picture with you and your wife, but I hope you read this so I can tell you one again how truly thankful I am.

Highway 400 near Fredonia, KS

Fall River Lake, KS

In Kansas, it's easy to realize that things around me are slowly changing. It is slow, but sure, progress. There are no longer hills, large trees, clouds, water, or people. I am no longer connected to society via my iPhone and therefore I no longer have music (I need to buy a FM radio if nothing else). Instead of possums as roadkill, I see armadillos and snakes. People say "howdy" instead of "hello". Sometimes, I feel like I am riding on a stationary bike, but thanks to these subtitles, I am confident that I am not just a gerbil being toyed with; that I have somehow been placed on the plains of a perpetually rotating belt of a gigantic, cemented treadmill. I am not complaining, the great plains fascinate me and there is solace in the breath-taking silence you experience on the prairie.  It reminds me of a quote I once heard which says that, "In solitude we are least alone."

Ernest and Fall River Lake, KS

Ernest is the camp-host and had me as a guest on his campsite. I cannot thank them enough for their help and hospitality, especially considering my last minute arrival at the site.

As for now... I sit in Wichita, KS resting for the day. As for my broken phone, it looks as if I will not have it fixed until I reach Pueblo, CO since Colorado Springs, CO is the location of the nearest Apple Store. So I rest, and live another day to fight the winds of Kansas and make my way to see my friends and family who I dearly miss and love. Thanks for reading, have a wonderful evening, I will.

Justin

Pictures from Western Illinois and Missouri

Owl's Bend, MO

Current River, Owl's Bend, MO

Eminence, MO