Last day

These photos were taken by a reporter from the Newport News Daily Press
in Yorktown, VA on July 6th.

Almost There

We are set to wheel into Yorktown tomorrow afternoon at about 4:00pm, eastern time to complete our transAmerica ride. We are about 35 miles from Yorktown tonight.

Thanks to the promotional efforts of Valerie and Suzanne the Yorktown paper is meeting us at the beach to do a story.

We rode through Richmond this morning and had a glorious ride along the James River toward Williamsburg. (note that "glorious" really means mostly downhill). It was sauna-oppressive-hot though!!! We are tired... And bit freaked out about the ride ending... But we are very excited.

-Peter

VA Adventures

 

I told Suzanne that she needs a new look because this one is taken.


 


We are glad she is here taking care of us, because we are dragging a bit.
It's getting tough to keep going, but there are only 4 days of riding left.   Yesterday we got to take showers at a YMCA!   Tomorrow we are going to the Appomattox Courthouse Museum and then riding the rest of the day.

We are running into larger towns and went to a bike store in Radford, VA, a college town, and got swindled for two new tires for Peter's bike. 
But I'm not bitter.

We went to WalMart and bought new biking gloves, because ours were so worn that our hands are aching at the end of every day.  And when we wake up in the morning.  And just around suppertime.


There are churches next to churches and across the street from churches here.  One street we rode down had 10 churches in less than a mile.  Each has an historical plaque explaining that it was founded in 1781 by Thomas Paine or Henry Clay, or it was where Abraham Lincoln made his First Communion.  There are churches with special names like "Homegrown Church of the Real Truth Disciples."  We passed a church that had a marquee that said on one side: "Man's greatest possession is God."  On the other side it said: "Love God as you are loved by others."  Then I hit a pothole and swerved to avoid a car.



Yesterday I was stung by a wasp.  It just flew up and stung me on the elbow.  Now my elbow itches like crazy.     This is my new elbow:

Peter's latest Hai Ku Activity:

         Across the US
         Bicycling all the way
         Saw the Sky....and Cows.


         Body parts that hurt
         But we ride on every day
         The roadkill is gross.


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Our new portrait:

Sights of Virginia

Some days are harder than others

We're in Virginia, our final state. It seems that the closer we get to the end, the more difficulties we encounter.

Although we've been chased by a lot of dogs, for example, I actually had to pepper-spray a persistent beast this week. I had passed a yardful of kids playing on a swing set and their dog suddenly gave chase. He was trying to bite my front tire and wouldn't take no for an answer.

Since then, we've gotten separated for half a day, had to re-route because of an interstate we weren't aware of, had to buy new tires for both bikes and one for the camper. Today, Suzanne is taking the camper to a repair place in Roanoke to see if they can figure out why the generator isn't providing power to the coach.

Oh, and today's headline on the local paper is "Heat tops 100-year record".
It's 100.

So, we're pushing on and Suzanne is a big help. She found us free showers yesterday and does the shopping and cooking without any instruction. Which we are less and less capable of providing.

There are about 6or 7 days of riding left.

Sights of KY

We like Kentucky (mostly)

We are nearing the end and wondering what life will be like when the ride is over.  Two months is a long time to do something and we've adopted a new lifestyle.  Of course, this lifestyle includes talking about reaching the end.  All the time.
 

Important note:  We haven't seen any dead armadillos on the road since we entered Kentucky.  The last one was actually right before the sign "Entering Kentucky."

A few days ago, we passed two young men on high tech touring bikes going the other direction.  They came from Virginia and were going to San Francisco!  Peter stopped and talked shop for awhile.  Nobody who rides can believe I'm on a mountain bike.  But I still like it for climbing hills and for rough terrain, of which there has been plenty every day.  They were fixing a flat tire.  I rode over 2000 miles before I had to seek air.


Alas, my rear tire finally wore through and I had a blow out yesterday after racing down an Appalachian hill in Kentucky.  Suzanne had to drive to a bike shop to get a tube for me.  It was a hot day of climbing and Peter was not tolerating the heat well at all.  We seem to take turns at being overwhelmed by heat.  It wound up being a short day- just 28 miles.  Mostly uphill.  Being chased by dogs.


We've been trying to capture our trip on film so that we can make a show for ourselves and to show to everyone.  Peter commented today that we take a ton of photos and snips of video, but it can't represent the depth and colors of the scenery, the feelings of the sweat and heat, or being pelted by rain, the panic of having a barking dog run 20 mph along side your bike, the desolation of seeing abandoned stores or mile after mile of trash on the road.  It's glorious to wind down the other side of a hill with the wind cooling you off and bumblebees bouncing off your chest and helmet. 

In Kentucky, there are beautiful farm spreads with pillared mansions and acres of corn.  We saw a pink and orange sunset over a small herd of black cows huddled up together in the grass, making a circle around the little calves.  When there aren't any cars, all you can hear is a riot of birds that sounds like a jungle.


Tomorrow, Virginia!

Peter and Karen are not on the same ride!

KAREN'S RIDING.  Karen rides down the road in complete control; usually barely breaking a sweat. Her riding clothing remains generally tidy.  She gets a spot of grease on her right leg every day, but this is due to the design of her bike rather than because of her riding style.  She has ridden her bicycle every single inch of this cross-country trip.  She has continued to pedal up even the steepest grades- never walking her bicycle even once!  She has not had a single flat tire. Karen sees everything in the landscape both near and far and can spot a penny on the ground while  hurtling down a grade at 30 miles and hour. She makes friends with all the animals we see that are still alive. People who talk to Karen tell her how fit she looks.Were this ride a Hollywood movie, her underscore music would be the theme from Rocky.

PETER'S RIDING. Peter rides down the road looking to all observers like he is either recovering from a fall or is about to have one.  He sweats profusely and generally looks rumpled.  There is usually bodily substances streaming from his ears, eyes, mouth, armpits, and his nose.  Peter pushes his bike up hills to keep his knees from exploding.  Peter has had so many flat tires he has lost track of exactly how many.   In Oklahoma (not his favorite state on the trip)  he had three flat tires in the same day... two of them occurring only 10 minutes apart in front of a stinky stockyard full of cows.  Peter has had a good day if he notices the cows by the side of the road and sees that the sky is blue. Peter runs over dead animals in the road because his attention wanders. People who talk to Peter usually want to know if he is ok or does he need help? Were Peter's ride in a Hollywood film, the music would be that frantic song they play at the circus when 12 clowns get out of a little tiny car.

How far we've come

Kentucky

It seemed like an immediate change in scenery when we got to Kentucky.  It's like a jungle!  The forest is so thick and the birds are so noisy!

The rabbits are huge here.  Not the little cotton tails of San Diego or the jack rabbits of the desert.  They are bigger that the average house cat!  The bunnies are cute, though.

There isn't much chance for Internet connection, even though the towns are closer together.

The hills are a little higher and when you get to the top and look out on the farms, it takes your breath away.  People in Missouri and Kentucky have these giant riding mowers and stake out their territory by Mowing It.  You can look out over acres and acres of grass with a picturesque farmhouse, horses, cows, and goats in the middle.  Acres and acres of dark forest border everything.  Flowers are blooming along the road and take over any field that is untended.  It's really pretty to see the lacy white sprays and goldenrod, interspersed with bouquets of white and yellow daisies.  There are lots of pink thistles.

Overall, the farms and homes are neat and well-kept.  Yards are trim and tended, with ceramic deer being the yard art of choice.  It's a stark contrast to some of the sights we've seen.  We've been pleasantly surprised and delayed because we've been taking a lot of pictures.  There are lots of old decayed barns, and lots of trailer homes...

It's humid and hot.  We slather up with sun screen and seal it in with bug spray and then after we ride for two minutes, the sweat starts streaming.  Yesterday it started raining, but it didn't really matter, because we were already soaked.  It was still pretty warm, and it wasn't windy, so we kept riding.  It didn't last long.


Brian met some locals.  While driving, he was passed by a big pickup with a confederate flag front plate and a large family sitting in lawn chairs having a picnic in the bed.  Then, at an intersection in the middle of corn fields, he was waiting at a gas station closed for the night.  A family drove up and seeing his California  plate, became quite chatty.  "California!  We don't get many a you all round here. We've never talked to someone from California before."  Brian said he discovered that they don't talk to many people in general and had a lot to say.  They had driven 15 minutes from their farm to but cold soda from the vending machine at the station. 

Brian's other encounter yesterday was at a sports bar.  While Peter and I were grabbing a shower last night, Brian dropped into a sports bar to see a basketball game.  Of course, they asked for his id.  The bar was crowded and the bar tender yelled, "California!"  So somebody paid for his beer.  In exchange, his id was passed around so that everybody could see a CA driver license.  One of the comments he heard:  "Lookit that!  The date is in a completely different place on theirs!"

Talking about our Trip

Peter loves to tell everyone about our trip.

He runs into the mini-marts to get ice and tells the clerks and the customers, the man fixing the coffee, innocent passers-by; etc.  "Hey- my wife and I are on a cross-country trip and just rode here on our bicycles from San Diego!"

The reactions have been varied.  We can always find people who think it's cool.  But not everyone does.  In the beginning of the trip, there were scoffers.  It was easy to see that they had been jaded by weekend athletes and bike clubs.  Also, there are those who take a look at us as if to say, "Huh.  Hope you have good medical insurance."  People thought we were nuts for trying to cross the desert in CA and Arizona.

When we reached Oklahoma, there were people who just stared and didn't say anything.  They could tell we weren't locals, of course, but it was almost as though they didn't really believe in California.  Like we could just as well have dropped off the moon. 

But there are also cyclists in OK.  They would stop when they drove past and ask if we needed water - and did I know that Peter was behind me walking his bike.  They wanted to know which route we had taken and where we were headed.  I got warned about loose dogs that were apt to chase bikes.  It's weird to be on a highway in traffic and suddenly have someone pull up and want to chat because they know you're not from the area.

Now we seem to be off the biking route.  People are not used to seeing bikes, and we haven't seen any riders on the road in a long time.  The roads are in good shape, but don't have much shoulder.  The drivers have to wait to pass us if another car is coming from the other direction.  We've been amazed at their patience and consideration.  We haven't gotten yelled at for awhile, which is great!

People we've talked to lately, if they're interested in the trip are amazed that we've come so far.  What we'll do when it's finished is starting to become a consideration.  Some people say they wish they could be in as "great shape" as we are; or that they could undertake such an adventure.  I've gotten more bold about telling people.  I've also gotten asked more, and it's easy to tell about the trip when somebody says, "Where are you riding from?"  It's fun to talk a few minutes with strangers and just see what people are like.


Every place we've been though, there have been mini-mart clerks that Peter has breathlessly gushed to about how far we've come and where we're going, only to have them blankly say, "The ice is over there."

Downside of Missouri

We have a lot of mosquito bites, in spite of DeepWoods OFF.

We didn't find a lot of wifi in Missouri.  Even McDonalds wasn't always a sure thing.
Our last day of riding in MO was eventful.  The morning was hot and overcast.  We rode the rolling hills ant stopped in the booming metropolis of Dexter at McDonalds.  (It had no wifi.)

We ate lunch and went in for an ice cream.  Came out and someone had unscrewed our compressor hose connection and stolen it - right under the watchful eye of our faithful driver, Hanz, who was playing a game on his cell phone and texting in the camper with his cap over his watchful eye.  Oh well. They could have stolen our bikes.  So we figure it was probably a one-legged thief with an inflatable prosthetic.


Almost as soon as we started riding after lunch, it started raining.  Since we had noticed the clouds, we had our rain gear.  Since we had noticed the clouds, we had instructed Hanz to wait a half hour and then pass us and wait again, in case we needed to get inside.  Which meant that Hanz left immediately and was at the next stop 10 miles away by the time the wind whipped up a huge dust storm and the rain was in torrents.
We ducked into a video store to wait it out.

Which was sad. The manager was very nice and wanted to hear about our ride a little.  The store was a chain, "Family Video."  He asked if there were FV stores in California.  He has aspirations of managing a West Coast operation.  He kind of took it the wrong way when we told him that there weren't many video stores in CA.  He took it to mean that the field is wide open for him....


It kept raining, but the wind stopped, so we finished out the rest of the 50 miles in our fashionable yellow jackets.  It wasn't cold.  Hanz unfortunately got lost and drove around all afternoon.  Good thing gas is so cheap and we're rich.  <= Example of Sarcasm.

Crossing the Mississip

We made it across the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers earlier this afternoon. Driving to Nashville to swap drivers - Hanz for Brian.
We have hit the 2000 mile mark!
Peter

Missouri Sights

Southern Hospitality

Oklahoma was the most bicycle-unfriendly state we've found.
People in Missouri love us!

There is less trash on the side of the road, and drivers are more courteous.  Even though there still isn't any shoulder, drivers will wait behind us until it's safe to pass.  Unlike SOME places where drivers sneak up on us and honk and then have the passenger yell, "Get off the road!"  at us.

We've had many people pull up and ask if we need water.  I've had many people pull up and let me know that my biking partner is walking his bike, but looks like he'll be along soon.

This also seems to be the state of the mean, unfenced, unleashed dog.  I've been chased here almost every day.  So far, I've grabbed the pepper spray, but haven't had to use it.


Yesterday, we passed a funeral procession going the other direction, and then came to a stretch of bad dogs.  We weren't riding together at that point, but had been trying to warn each other about the dogs and report back using walkie talkie when we had safely passed.
Peter had a slightly different experience than I did.  Not only was he chased by a dog, but he was also chased by a goat.  Luckily, the funeral director had returned and was ready to drive the goat and dog off with his SUV.  He pulled over to chat with Peter about his own biking adventures.  Peter overcame his shyness long enough to get us invited to the funeral home for showers!

We made it to the funeral home, which was a little short of our goal for the day, but we got to take showers and do laundry.  Plus we got a tour of Doniphan, MO, including the boat dock at the Current River, the pizza place, our host's home - where we had pizza and beer, and Hanz got to do some shooting - and - the most exciting part, we got a tour of the funeral home and got to see what a funeral home director does.  A win-win for everyone.

We spent the night in the camper, plugged in to funeral home electricity.  It was so cool.  We invited our new friend to come to California, but he says he doesn't think he'd ever do anything THAT crazy.


At the Edwards Funeral Home in Doniphan, MO  with our host Spencer.

Glad to be moving on

Peter says the best thing about Missouri is that it's not Oklahoma.  

Hanz says it's humid and he is staying in the air conditioning as much as possible.

The shoulders are wide, the wind isn't blowing, and the drivers are courteous.  So far, there is a lot less garbage on the road.  Except that each day (so far) I've seen a pair of discarded tightey-whiteys.  At least their litterers change their underwear every day.

Today we missed  a turn and went about 12 miles the wrong way.  Hanz found us any way, and  when Peter figured it out, Hanz said he figured we had just changed the plan.  He later started calling if we were late to a stop.

We re staying in an RV campground tonight.

We see funny (and interesting) stuff

Although I've been trying to catch photos of the funny signs we find, I can't always get a good shot.  Sometimes I'm just too tired to capture it.

In Albuquerque, there was a hand-painted advertisement at a freeway exit that was quite enticing:
BATES MOTEL
Mother's Homestyle Cooking
Every room has a Shower
Family-Run
Follow signs


When we first crossed into Oklahoma ranch land, there was a Burma Shave-style sign:
I Scream
You Scream
We all Scream
For pork loins


As we were leaving Pawhuska, OK - which is one of the larger towns (ie, not a ghost town), there was a white house with a fence around the yard, right on main street.  On the front door was posted:  PRIVATE PROPERTY.
It seemed like a touchy subject, so I didn't take a picture.

Almost all of the small towns in Texas and Oklahoma have large signs as you enter city limits, that regale visitors with past sports glories.  Usually they are quite large, like 10' x 10'.   "Welcome to Pond Creek - home of the 1990 state wrestling champions."  "You are entering HORNET territory - boy's state track champions 1986, 1987, 1989."   Some even list the names of the kids on the teams.  Like the 1962 championship baseball team of Laverne.


Riding along for hours, I need entertainment.  I'm glad we're riding at this time of year, because the weather isn't too bad, and everything is as green as it gets.  Everything is blooming;  all the animals have babies.  There is activity and the scenery is beautiful.  Sweating is also distracting.


Yesterday I was riding past a farmhouse several miles from town.  A bird whipped out of the mailbox in front of me as I was chugging along.  I stopped to look in, and there was a nest of tiny newly-hatched babies.  I tried to take a picture, but I couldn't make it come out right.  (I swear, they were still alive when I left.)


We talk to people to find out about what's going on in the area sometimes.  We talked to a trucker at the saltwater tanks that were painted with the Peanuts characters out in the middle of the fields.  He was filling his tanker with salt water to deliver to the natural gas field pumps.  When they drill to get the gas, there is water on top of the gas and it rushes up to the surface.  So they pump salt water down first because it's heavier and it holds down the ground water so they can go past it and get to the gas.

We also found that May is wheat harvest hearabouts.  The neighbors get together and help each other roll the cut wheat into great rolled bales.  The women drive out with meals for everybody and they have a tailgate party and then get back to work.  They keep working past dark because you never know when it's going to rain.  The huge trucks and combiners have lights.

The oil fields are being upgraded and Conoco Phillips is putting up workers at all the small hotels and rv campgrounds.  They're making extra money by working in the fields away from home.  Shifts work around the clock and pass each other in the breakfast rooms at the Best Western, some on their way to bed and some on their way out to the field.  Their huge boots are in the hallway outside their rooms.

I have been listening to audiobooks, and off and on I listen to some music, but I only wear one earbud, because it doesn't seem safe to block your hearing when you're the smallest fish in the current.  Plus, it's illegal (as I point out to Peter almost daily.)  So, the music is sometimes suboptimal, if it's in stereo.

Listening to something really helps with endurance.  But I can't do it every day.  So I do things to keep busy, like count the number of dead animals and discarded gloves.  It's instructive.  I've learned that truckers must think that work gloves are disposable.  Also, in Oklahoma, work gloves are available in children's sizes.  I've also found out that truckers seem to perform their hygienic activities on the road, as evidenced by prodigious quantities of tissues, eye-drop bottles, empty prescription bottles, combs, brushes, dental floss picks, q-tips, and unsanitary Gatorade bottles (re-filled).  (If you get my drift.) 

One could study their culture from their garbage.  If one was so inclined.

Oklahoma Biking

People of the Wind

With Peter's penchant for meeting Folks, we seem to attract crowds at every mini-mart. 
Jim (our driver) decided that his favorite quote of Peters is:  "Mini-mart ice machines make life worth living."

In Jet, Oklahoma (don't you wish you thought of it) we stopped for ice and water and the young lady at the cash register told us- oh, if you're using your own bottles, just fill up on whatever you like.  Peter started gulping something called "Sunkist Cherry Limeade," and suddenly became very animated.

The pile of shirtless little kids with crayons jumped down from the dinette and swarmed around him, asking about the bikes and gear and where the heck we had come from.  We drank soda and chatted about our trip for half an hour.  They wanted to hear over and over, "How many miles you think you come so far?"  "Ain't Virginia on t'other side of the ocean?"  "When you think you gonna get there?"  "You know any movie stars?"

It felt a little like we had dropped out of a space ship.  Their mother was carrying around a sleeping toddler.  She told us all about the kids and how these were hers and those were her friend's, who was working at the store.  "Now these two, Brittany and Kenneth, their daddy's dead.  Had an asthma attack and died.  He was about oh, 33, I guess.  He's with Jesus now.  But I met a real nice man who's real sweet to me and to the kids."  Real sweet, judging from her advanced pregnancy.

The kids followed us out to the bikes, showing us the tricks they could do on the hand railing of the steps.  Watch me, watch this, lookit what I can do.  I got a bike, but I can't ride it on the street.  My friends call me Yoda 'cause my ears stick out.  Look how far they stick out.  Don't you think I look like Yoda?  This is my new dress.  I got another dress, but it don't fit me.  My sister goes to school here, but I go in Enid.  But school's out now, so I don't go.

Then a farmer or rancher got out of a truck and asked, "So you folks are ridin' across the country?"  We had kind of gotten used to the word getting around in a small town if we stayed longer than a few minutes.  He wanted to know what route we were taking and how we manage the trucks and where we sleep.  Peter chatted with him and asked him if he had Internet access.  "Nah, we don't have nothin' like that." 

In Good Company

Little sister Valerie here.

I took the liberty of posting because as I was reading about the wind sweeping down the plain, I remembered an excerpt from a 1935 letter we have that Grandpa Ribley wrote to his family.  He and a buddy were traveling from California from Ohio and once the "weather" in Kansas, they ended up turning around and hitchiking back to California!  Here’s what he says about the plain states:

“Well I guess I’ll tell about the dust first.  We had dust all the way from Portales, N.M. but it wasn’t bad and we didn’t have it all the time.  We got as far as Dodge City, Kan. and that was that.  Most of the time people had their lights lit in the daytime.  When the wind didn’t blow, the dust fell like rain.  But when the wind blew it was terrible.  We thought it would let up and we could go on but it never did so we had to sell our car because we couldn’t drive it.  We hitch-hiked back, that’s why I never wrote because I knew Mom would worry.”

So it looks like fighting the wind in the plain states is a well-absorbed legacy.

And your grasshopper tales remind me of when we moved to Utah in the summer of ’82.  When I would ride my bike down the road, the grasshoppers would jump all around in a frenzy from every angle.  I always had beheaded carcasses in my spokes.  Ick. 

Love you – keep on pedaling!

The wind is ALWAYS sweeping down the plain

Oklahoma should be called "The Windy State."

We have been blown forward, backward and sideways.  I have a feeling it messes up my hair, but no one has said anything.  I think they are just being polite.

In addition, it is much hotter here than in the desert.  We are having trouble sleeping at night and have been using the air conditioning quite a lot.  Probably because of our advanced age, it is effecting us more than it effects Alana.  More than I remember the heat effecting me.  After all, Peter and I both used to live in Arizona, the hottest place on earth.I have been riding with a bandana covering my face- my delicate skin.  I don't want to wind up like an old rattle snake.  We are on our fourth bottle of SPF 60+ sunscreen with zinc oxide.

The shoulders on the roads are much smaller here.  We have been riding on smaller highways to try to avoid major traffic, but still people are honking and are not too happy with us being on their road.  There are still trucks, but mostly just farming and irrigation support-type trucks, plus local workers.  The road garbage factor is vastly reduced.

However, yesterday was a record for discarded gloves:  56.  It's stunning, really, work gloves, rubber gloves, disposable latex gloves, cotton gardening gloves-  orange, grey, white, blue, green.  BUT no yellow or red.

Also, there are vast, unending seas of rustling wheat fields on all sides of us at times.  It's amazing how it feels like you can't see land as far as you can see.

Since arriving in Oklahoma a few days ago, we started seeing grasshoppers everywhere.  They are green and brown.  The larger ones, which may be a different type, are about 2 inches long and have red lines all along their edges.  They are also splattered all over the road and the camper.  Unfortunately.
But it's not like a plague of locusts or anything.

Peter is getting to be a much stronger rider.  He hasn't missed any riding since New Mexico, and we have found that his steady pace carries him through even when I am flagging after 50 miles.  50 seems to be my drop off point.  After that I make about 8 miles an hour.

It's Spring and there are babies everywhere.  Baby cows, horses, horny toads and birds.

We were riding along and saw a large white horse in a field, then a large brown horse.   Then two awkward little white-and-brown pinto foals tottered up between them.  It was so cute I fell off my bike.  Not really.

We stopped to have lunch in the camper at a parking lot next to a veterinarian's office.  Turns out it was the county vet where all the horses with money go to have their babies.  Alana was in seventh heaven.

We found a motel that has an rv camp in the rear.  So we are raiding it.  We are restocking ice, tp, shampoo, oatmeal, hot chocolate, etc.  Plus, we have eaten our weight at the complementary continental breakfast.  Well worth the $27 camping fee.

Hope to see some sights in Oklahoma City before we take Alana to the airport this afternoon.  Jim and Alana Moylan will be driving the camper for us tomorrow...

Life on the farm

Aside from roadkill, we have been having lots of animal interaction. The first day we were in New Mexico, I was riding along the farmland and came across a lady on a quad, chasing two bulls. She was doing a mini-roundup. But gingerly. Each time she got close to the bulls and tried to urge them toward the gate, she was quite bold until one of them looked at her or turned toward her. Then she would quickly back off.

As I started to pass, she yelled to me, “Hey, could you open that gate across the street for me?” I looked over, and it was a gate just like at my friend Bronwyn’s house. So I went over and opened it. She yelled thanks and I watched her wrestle with the bulls some more. It looked to me like one side of the road was a giant field with a fence and a gate and the other side of the road was another giant field with a fence and a gate. By “giant,” I mean that you couldn’t see the ends of these fields on any other side.

So I would have left the two bulls where they were, if it were me.

Peter also has been having a lot of cow herding experience. The past week, in Texas and Oklahoma, each time we see a herd of cows at the fence, Peter yells, “Moo” at them. He just moos and moos. The reaction is almost always the same. The cows look at us and look at him for about a minute or less, and then they all turn and run. Then Peter yells, “Did you see that? I caused another stampede!” So, Peter gets to feeling like he’s causing cow movement.

Every day we see lots of dead snakes. Most are squashed flat by trucks, but some look like they’re still alive. Yesterday, Peter swerved to miss one and it jumped into the grass to get away. He swore that it was five feet long. I missed it. BUT, about an hour later, as I was making up a rap version of “Road Garbage Litany,” I saw a small brown snake jump away from my bike. It gives you a thrill.

We also saw our first dead armadillo, which was sad.

Turns out in Oklahoma, you can hunt turtles. The limit is six per day per person, so they must be plentiful.  But you can't shoot them.  Consequently, we've started seeing dead turtles on the road.

Oklahoma is the Windy State.  We don't like wind.  Peter thinks we should vote Oklahoma off the island.  Seems like the wind is one of the reasons we couldn't find many biking routes through the state.

Since leaving Arizona, we haven't seen much effort at recycling.  It seems weird to not be able to find a place to deposit cans and bottles at least, but you can't.   Also, there aren't many places in Oklahoma so far to get an Internet connection.  So, we have to publish our blog updates when we can...

We slept in the ghost town of Elmwood the other night.  It was spooky and there was a dog on the roof of an old broken down building across the street from us.  Alana spotted some kids and went to talk to them.  She asked, "How does the dog get on the roof?"  The boy answered, "Easy.  He goes out the winda on the balcony."  Of course.   His name is Chester.  The dog's, not the boy's.

Biking in Texas

Guess What? We're in Texas!

Hey, Y'all - ALL Y'all -    we made it to Texas and got to see some of Amarillo on a rest day.
We saw the wonderful Cadillac Ranch, where there are 8 to 10 Cadillacs buried nose-down in a line just off the highway in a field.  It looks like a funeral procession gone wrong.

 Alana receiving the camper keys...

We took Don & Jeannette to the Rick Husband International Airport in Amarillo and had a beer.  Then we picked up Alana (Lewis) and drove back to our stopping point at the border of New Mexico and Texas near Nara Visa.






When we started riding in Texas, I saw a breast implant sample model on the road.  (I put a photo of it here, but it got blocked.)  Naturally, I had to imagine the conversation that went on before it went out the window on the highway...
"Honey, I finally decided on the shape for my new implant!  The doctor let me bring the model sample home for you to see!"
"What!  Give me that!  No way is this perky enough!"
"HEY---I was supposed to bring that back to the doctor's office!"

We were only in Texas for a few days.

Biking in NM

Roadside Detritus, the Horizon, and RV Effluence

After riding in the rain for a few hours, and getting blasted by overspray from trucks as we rode on the freeway, we decided to have Mothers' Day dinner at a diner in Santa Rosa, New Mexico.  Peter figured out how to reschedule for the shorter day, and I worked on cleaning the bikes.

Today was better.  I was riding along, minding my own business, in fact, I was composing The Alphabetical Index of Road Waste, when I noticed that there was an antelope standing next to the fence on the side of the freeway.  I stopped and took its picture.  Then it snorted and ran away.  It had a big white tuft of fur on its rear end.
So This is where The Antelope Play.

Maybe I should organize the guide to roadside detritus by color categories instead.


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From Peter:
The country is really, really big!!!! It is an outrageous experience to spend hours climbing up to the top of a pass and turn around and look back at what you just rode across. When you see mountains in the distance behind you, and in front of you, it is difficult to embrace that you just rode from horizon to horizon... and that you have been doing it for nearly 26 days!

Have you ever had to make a life and death decision related to the poop tube on an RV?  While dumping the effluence from our support RV into a truck stop tank today, the coupling to the RV broke off and I had to reach "into the flow" to shut off the valve.  It was horrifying to say the least... but I had to "take one for the team" and stem the tide! At least I had wimpy gloves on.  After this harrowing incident I dove into a truck stop pay shower to detox.