Be Seein' Ya, Wyoming

The last few days have been amazing, bar none the best bike rides I have ever experienced. What's even better, the rides are probably only going to get more beautiful as we continue towards Seattle. Yesterday we rode out of Dubois and headed across the continental divide via the Towgweti-I think I'm spelling this right-Pass. This, we've been told, is a mere warmup for Teton Pass. We'll be tackling that one tomorrow, and I hear it's a real doozy. We'll also be heading into Idaho and leaving Wyoming, which is a bummer. But let's step back from the future and hypothetical and talk about how amazing the ride was yesterday.

We were told by our four fearless leaders that Towgweti would be a fairly gentle ride, only about a five percent grade stretched out over twenty miles. It's certainly not a walk in the park, but after putting something like thirty five hundred miles under our legs, it wasn't too bad. As it turned out, the real climb was even shorter, maybe only eight or nine miles. We did, however, climb to around nine thousand feet, almost ten actually. There were defintely moments where I felt the altitude. The beauty of the pine forests, the wildflowers, and the mountains behind made it all worth it. I didn't think I could ever be anywhere so beautiful as that mountain pass. And then we descended.

The best parts of climbing the pass were unquestionably the descent, especially since our lunch site was infested with mosquitoes. Apparantly they don't mind the thin air much. After taking many pictures of the elevation sign at the continental divide, we were greeted to seventeen miles of downhill at six percent grade. We also saw scenery that topped anything we'd seen climbing up the pass. I don't know if any of you have ever seen the Grand Tetons mountain range, but those are probably some of the most breathtaking peaks that I've ever seen. I've been told that they're even more impressive than the Alps, and I believe it. You all should google image search Grand Teton if you haven't already. Then blow up that picture a million times, remove the screen, and that's what I got to look at for nearly four hours. We rode into and then parallel to that mountain range all the way into Jackson.

Jackson's a story in and of itself. First of all, it's probably one of the most touristy places I've been to in years. It's also gorgously tucked into the mountains and full of a mix of nice and mean people. In the space of the day riding into it, I was alternately honked at, sworn at, and asked if I needed help while I tried to fix three flats on the side of the road. Ohh, that's the one thing that dampened the experience. I blew out three tubes. I was upset. However, I was rescued by a really gnarly triathlete that I flagged down. Real chill dude on a Specialized tri-bike, had just finished a race in fact and was still wearing his number; gave me a tube, saved my life. But Jackson, yes.

We had a build day in Jackson today, one that we weren't too excited for because the Habitat chapter didn't seem too enthused by our group. Apparantly a previous group of riders had tarnished Bike and Build's reputation a bit. We were pleasantly surprised by the build today though, which I have to say was the best organized build that I'd been on during this trip. Possibly ever. Trace and Katie are two of the raddest people ever, let alone incredibly good with carpentry and team organization. I daresay our group had never been so productive as we were today. I spent most of my afternoon marking area for re-bar, nailing in spacers in the foundation form, laying cement for foundation, and placing re-bar into cement. The rest of the group was spread throughout the other two build sites we were working on.

The neighborhood we worked in was equally incredible. Because Jackson is inhabited primarily by millionaires and tourists, it is incredibly difficult for a working class person or family to be able to afford housing there. As a result, the majority of the workforce in Jackson commutes from other, more affordable areas surrounding it. A typical home in Jackson costs about 1.2 million dollars, with a single room condo selling for about 540,000. Average wage is fairly high at sixteen dollars an hour, but obviously is insufficient to pay for housing. Thus, while the typical Jacksonian is not poor or impoverished in the way we might think they are, they are unable to purchase a home. Thankfully, the Habitat chapter there has been able to make homes that are affordable for that workforce. Because Habitat Houses have to be up to the standard of the neighorhood, the houses are all quite beautiful. The stained cedar siding was a welcome change from vinyl and steel siding, plus they're all larger than most Habitat homes. They're also within sight of some gorgeous mountains. But enough gushing.

In short, the last few days have been some of the best of the trip, and they only promise to get better. I look forward to posting about more of them as they come. Peace out, Hombres.

Welcome to the West

I must apologize profusely to people who've been following this blog, or who may have stopped due to lack of updates. It's been increasingly difficult to get reliable internet access since we've entered the West proper. When I last posted I was in the middle of Iowa, resting comfortably after a short ride into Ames. Since then, we've finished Iowa, trudged through Nebraska, and are somewhere near the center of Wyoming. Thankfully, there wasn't much to report in Nebraska at all, except to bellyache about the bad riding conditions and monotony.

There are two Nebraskan natives on our trip, Peter and Ashley, who we have affectionately merged into the single unit Pashley. They had described Nebraska as "a harsh mistress". They were right. Nebraska's gust made the winds of Illinois, previously our windiest state, seem like a gentle breeze. On our ride into Valentine I reached a personal low of riding seven miles per hour on flats, a mere mile or two out of the town. I've decided that strong winds just outside of our destination are the worst, it's really such a tease knowing you're so close. The lack of scenery in the state was another low.

I'll admit that Nebraska holds a certain beauty, with a landscape that seems at times to be a scrubby desert and a horizon that extends forever. But it's the sort of beauty that captivates for maybe an hour, if that. After the initial awe wears off, you're really just angry that there's nothing blocking the 45 mph winds that are pushing against you for the whole time. It's even more frustrating to see another cyclist going the opposite direction who is barely pedaling, if at all, and going several mph faster than you. But I digress, that evil is all behind me now because we've finally reached the West!

Western Nebraska was a pleasant change from the rest of the state, with a number of rocky buttes and foothills that seemed more characteristic of Montana. If Nebraska had any redeeming factor, it was that it ended and turned into Wyoming, which is infinitely better than its neighbor. Here in Lander we've not quite hit the Wind River Mountain Range, but we're within view of them. And that view is spectacular. I may just have to retire in this town.

I'm so hungry for mountains after what feels like years of the plains. In a few short days, we'll be tackling the Teton Pass outside of Jackson Hole and entering into the Rockies. The Rockies... I still can't really believe it. From there it's just the Cascade Range and the relatively short haul to the coast. We're getting close, less than twenty one days of riding remaining to us. I've a feeling that the rides are going to be a lot more breathtaking in the next few days, I'll be sure to give my camera a workout. Hopefully I'll be able to blog a bit more as well.

Until then, I hope this post satiated a few of you; if not, I've been keeping a real journal, complete with artistic pictures and a myriad of maps and scrap book fodder. Hell, there might even be some poetry in it by the end of all this. It's a lot less narrative and a lot more personal musings, but I'll be happy to show it to anyone after the trip is done. Until then, peace out hombres!

Just a quickie on why Iowa is the coolest state so far

I'm sitting on a warm club chair in a trendy wi-fi cafe, Oasis of small town USA, in Iowa. For those of you who have not been before, go to Iowa. I know, it sounds like strange advice, for it certainly doesn't sound like a hopping place to be. But when you've been biking through Illinois and...ugh...Indiana, Iowa is really the raddest state ever. At first we just liked it because it's not windy: eastern Iowa has rolling hills and for some reason the bad headwind just disappeared when we crossed the state line. There are a plethora of other reasons why Iowa is cool though, which I will list.

1. RAGBRAI, one of the biggest cross state group bike rides in the country, with around twelve thousand participants anually. We've met a couple of cyclists who've been training for the weeklong ride that happens at the end of the July. They've been really cool, especially about giving us road advice and making good conversation until their spokes break right next to you. Yeah, there's a story there, but not for here.

2. Adorable small towns with a lot of life and generosity. We've gotten a lot of freebies in the state, and a lot of food.

3. SKUNK RIVER CYCLES SHOP. THEY GAVE US HUGE DISCOUNTS AND FREE LABOR FOR OUR BIKES THIS IS HUGE THUS ALL CAPS!!! AND LOTS OF EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!

Now, there's also one thing really lame about Iowa. That's US 30... just awful.

Goodbye everyone, until the next time I can find a trendy internet cafe and a computer.

Dusting this old blog off

It's been a while since I've last updated, for a number of reasons. The first of which being a lack of really interesting things to write about of late. The nasty little virus that I wrote about last post ended up putting me in the van for four or five more days, and infecting a few other riders. Consequently, I missed crossing the Ohio border into Indiana, all of Indiana, and parts of Illinois. I'm told that Indiana was not fun to bike in, so really it's just as well that I wasn't in sorts for those two days anyway.

There were and are a few really amazing things to report on, however, running the gammot from spiritual to bicycle related. I guess the most important thing to mention is that I am now healthy and have been riding for a few days now, and I can only say that being back on the bike is bliss. Pure, unadulterated, albeit windy, bliss. I was singing and climbing out of the saddle that first day back in Illinois, despite the considerable headwind. It was like being reunited with an old friend. Now for the spiritual moment. I'll move on to a new paragraph in a second, because the occasion merits it, perhaps even two paragraph, but let me end this comma spliced sentence by saying I was planning on writing a whole blog post about the experience entitled "Heaven is a Black Baptist Church".

Back in Dayton, OH, we stayed in a black baptist church. Not only do those people know how to host a dinner and breakfast to die for, they can also say the best blessing that has ever graced my ears. After a delicious meal, the pastor invited a few of us to look in on their choir practice. Of course, most of us jumped at the opportunity even though it meant missing a mandatory presentation. I've never seen a church celebrate their faith in every single thing that they do. It really was the way every church should be; understanding how cheesy the statement sounds, but also realizing that I really mean it, it was so refreshing to see so much...joy. It was moving to hear from one of the congregation members that he considered us all brothers and sisters, and that we should look to one another as brothers and sisters on the trip and take care of one another as such. After being sick, it really was a piece of heaven descended down to us.

Ohhh, and we're in Iowa now. And well that we are, because Illinois is a hard state to ride through, all full of wind and lameness. Don't get me wrong, love the state, but hated to ride though it. I'm told "Windiana" was worse, but I dodged that bullet didn't I? It was amazing to cross the Mississippi and realize that we're really getting into the Midwest now. I've got high hopes for Iowa and getting in touch with some of the Smiley clan that supposedly lives here.

Blogging has gotten a little monotonous, I think it's time to start writing the great American Novel. Happy reading until then! Peace out Hombres.