Zambo and Hutch

I arrived in Hutchinson, KS yesterday around 2:00 p.m. having biked about 40 miles from Newton. A friend of mine and an Asbury alum, Cody Kerr, is driving to Hutchinson as I write this; he will accompany me the rest of the way to San Francsico. I will be grateful for the company.

Accordingly, Cody's arrival tonight has provided an opportunity for me to take a rest day. After arriving in Hutchinson, I stashed my panniers at a church/hostel where I am staying and took a shower. Next stop: the cinema! Having been away from ordinary life for awhile, I decided it was high time that I watch "The Simpsons Movie." Perhaps I've been away far too long, because I thought it was hilarious; I think I was the only person laughing half the time. Afterwards, I ate some supper and hit the hay.

Today, I breakfasted on donuts from a bakery and went in to the local bike shop for some new bar tape and various other goodies. Now, on to the library, post office, et al. I may head back to the theater to catch another matinee, we'll see.

Cody and I should be back on the road tomorrow!

Best wishes,
John

Eureka! My first Century!

It's official: I am now a cyclist, having completed my very first century ride.

I stayed the night of the 26th at a Lutheran Church and awoke the next morning to a breakfast of home-made biscuits with the pastor. I managed to haul my derriere out of there around 10 o'clock in the morning; as I was standing on the front porch of the parsonage, bidding farewell to the pastor and his wife, Irv and Barb came trundling past. I rode with them for a short time, but passed them prior to Chanute, KS, where I ate lunch and went to the post office.

Having only ridden 35 miles, I decided to press on to Toronto, 50 miles away. As time wore on, the next town, Eureka, KS, started to look a lot more appealing than Toronto. Now things were getting interesting. As I was standing at a crossroads, re-applying sunscreen and looking at the map, a minivan rolled up. A strange woman, identifying herself as the Coyville Angel, explained to me how much she loved seeing bicyclists go past. She gave me some ice to put in my water bottles and said that when I got to Coyville, there would be three bottles of water for me, sitting on top of the Jeep in her yard.

Sure enough, the water was there. When I stopped to take them, she and her brother emerged from the house. Both were quite drunk and getting more drunk before my eyes. We chatted for a moment and when I stuck out my hand for a shake, she shook her head and said "Nuh-uh. How 'bout a hug?"

I supposed I couldn't refuse an embrace from an Inebriated good Samaritan. I rolled on, wondering how many cyclists had been assisted by this drunken benefactor, when a few miles later she pulled up beside me in her car. "Keep pedaling!" her brother slurred, and they sped off to God-knows-where.

I rolled in to Eureka, KS just after dark and decided to celebrate my 105-mile ride with a hotel room. I breakfasted the next morning at a greasy spoon and lit out for Newton, KS. I had hoped to reach Newton by 4 o'clock in order to beat evening storms, snag a berth at a hostel and have time to go see "The Simpsons Movie." No such luck. I rode into some rain around 1:00 pm and when the sky started to groan, I waited out the worst of it in a barn. Twenty miles later, I found myself sitting on the porch at a general store, in between two massive banks of thunderheads, still 40 miles from my destination. I waited for a while, but then phoned home for some radar reconnaissance.

"If you go now and ride like the wind, you might be able to beat the storm, but it's heading your way," said dad.

Well, I took off and not a half-mile in front of me lightning struck the road two or three times. This really had me quaking in my boots. After another bolt met the tarmac just in front of me and a few more menacing rumbles, I turned around and went to a nearby farmhouse. No one was around, so I just decided to press on. Aided by the wind, I was soon cranking in excess of 20 mph, sometimes in excess of 25. It's easy to make good time when your life could be depending on it. Either way, I managed to squeak just pass the storm and roll into Newton, KS about 7 o'clock, 78 miles from Eureka.

Due to some extenuating circumstances, I have no idea what the next few days will bring in terms of mileage or time on the bike, but I will certainly keep you posted. Hope this note finds you all well.

Regards,
John

KS

Had a nice 85-mile jaunt yesterday to Golden City, Missouri. I met up with the French guys about 10 miles out of town - we had a nice rotation the rest of the way. They wanted to find a place to relax and cool off after the ride and they picked the first place they found - the Side Door Saloon. We went in there, totally clad in lycras, an American and three Frenchmen, to this awful biker bar. There were confederate flags strewn everywhere and a man with one-arm and even fewer teeth was dismantling another chap at a game of nine-ball. It was absolutely, gut-wrenchingly scary.

The French guys asked me if that is what American cafes and bars are usually like - they thought it was very kitschy and fun, like something out of a movie. I let them down easily, explaining that this is not what all American culture is usually like. Hopefully that proves to be true.

Either way, we all slept in the park and parted ways again in the morning. I said goodbye to Irv and Barb and lit out for Pittsburgh. Got some lunch, ran some errands (bank, post office, derailleur adjustment, et al) and found Irv and Barb to wish them well one more time. I now write to you from Girard, Kansas, hoping to make it to Chanute tonight, although I have already covered about 52 miles and have another 45 to go, so I'm not sure if I will reach it by nightfall.

I believe I am catching up with Brent and Lee, two guys around my age who I have been just behind for weeks now. I have also heard reports that I am closing in on Mike Allen, the agreeable British fellow from my previous exploits.

Signing off,
John

We're Not in Kansas Yet

First of all, I'm sorry for that awful title. Second, thank you ever so much, faithful readers, for all the encouragement - it is quite refreshing.

What a ride the past few days have been! The motel where I stayed, along with a few others was quite a trip. The owners, a delightful and earthy couple,Pony and Eya, had cold beer and a delicious dinner for us. I split a room with a guy about my age, Jeff, headed east.

We were all relaxing outside after dinner, shooting the breeze, saying we would love to have some guitars laying around or to hear some music. Not five minutes later, an RV rolled up and a bluegrass/gospel band stepped out and began to serenade us - and boy, were they good. Their banjo player was the Texas state banjo champion and their other instrumentalists were right on par with him. And, as it turned out, I had met their lead singer before! Small world!

I didn't manage to get rolling until noon the next morning after a late night of fellowship, but had an uneventful ride to a place called Marshfield. I met three French guys about my age - hope to ride with them at some point down the track, but I'm uncertain where they are right now. The only thing notable about Marshfield was an unfortunate run-in with an irate, old hag who ran the fleabag motel in town. We'll see what develops from that.

Either way I banged out a gentle, but hilly 50 miles by 1:00 this afternoon and hope to make another 30 or so to Golden City, Missouri. Pittsburg, Kansas first thing tomorrow morning!

Regards,
John

Great White Ozarks

There is nothing great, nor white, about the Ozark Mountain Range. They refer to Missouri as the Show-Me State - so far, most people have only shown me their worst sides or their middle fingers, for which I hardly think it is worth emblazoning the expression on thousands of Missouri license plates.

I could not have asked for worse motorists - one kind fellow shouted obscenities at me and then attempted to sideswipe me with the boat that he was pulling behind his Silverado. Another gentleman very cautiously and courteously passed in the other lane and, when I waved a "thank-you," his passenger flipped me the bird. I have quit rolling my eyes when I hear people make horrendous jokes about being in a "State of Misery" because they aren't actually making jokes. They are actually being empathetic toward people who are passing through this awful place.

I have never so vividly imagined such terrible things that I wish would happen to such drivers as the semi-trucker who passed within six inches of me at around 45 mph. Motorists speed by as if they are zombies, unwilling to offer up a wave or a nod.

Alas, the mountains haven't been as bad as I imagined - they are, however, like unto riding a roller coaster. You might inch along at 4mph, cranking as hard as you might, only to rocket down the other side well in excess of 40 mph. I have never ridden such truly exhilarating terrain. The troughs of these great hills open up, yawning chasms, the bottom of which you can scarcely see from the top. Sometimes you feel lucky to have escaped the maw of these great beasts, aching to swallow up cyclists. What a ride!

Either way, I am out of the worst of the terrain. I have found myself in the care and company of some of the most hospitable folks around; we are sitting down to a nice supper. More on that to come.

Land of Lincoln in 48 hours

I was snagged by a terrible thunderstorm yesterday afternoon, just after my last post. I had managed to cruise along for miles in between two banks of thick, black clouds, but then my luck ran out. I had been eyeing the sky and scouting along the roadside for barns and thick groves of trees in order to wait out the weather if it really started to hit the fan. When it did, I was totally unprotected with nowhere to go. The wind began to howl and with it, it bore stinging needles of rain into my eyes and face as well as intense thunder and lightning all around.

A mile or so later, I managed to hobble into a trailer I saw along the side of the road, which happened to be the Crab Orchard, Illinois Public Library, where I waited out the rest.

I cruised into Marion, where I delivered Irv and Barb's signal flags, which they had forgotten the previous morning. AS I was about to press on for Carbondale, another front rolled in, so I waited out the night there.

Smooth sailing to Carbondale this morning, where I got my derailleurs adjusted and snagged a new pair of sunglasses after my old pair was rent from my face in yesterday's gale. I'll cross the Mississip tonight or first thing in the morning, marking the end of my third map, third state and my entry into the West!

Having a ball,
John

Flat Does Not Equal Easy

Greetings from Harrisburg, Illinois. I will attempt to be concise, as this is the first library I have seen in five days and, accordingly, the past five days have been eventful.

Sunday and Monday were relatively low-key days apart from the company of friends riding along for a while. I weathered Monday night at White Mills Christian Camp in White Mills, Ky. There was a shower and a beautiful view of the Nolin River.

Tuesday was a heck of a day; despite heat and moderate terrain, I managed to cover 95 miles. With the aid of an iPod and word of a great fire station in which to stay in Utica, Ky., I was duly motivated to reach my destination. I had originally estimated the distance at 75 miles, but had royally misjudged: the real distance was 87 miles, but I managed to get lost and so rode an extra 8 miles.

I was able to shower and do laundry at the station in Utica. I had the place entirely to myself, except for hoardes of immense spiders. And, if there is one thing I am afraid of in all the world, that thing is a spider. So, I helped myself to a Dr. Pepper from their refrigerator and I slept on their kitchen table.

The next morning I ducked into a local grocery to have some breakfast. Several farmers and local men were inside shooting the breeze. One, a farmer by the name of David Hayden seemed particularly friendly and asked lots of questions about my trip. I noticed he was wearing a Lance Armstrong bracelet and I asked if he rode. Well, he most certainly did! The woman at the counter told me to ask him about his new bike. "What kind of a bike did you get?" I asked.

"A Trek SSL Madone 6.9," he answered. "With the bottle cages, pedals and everything, it only weighs 15 and a half pounds!" He was beaming. Turns out he had sold a parcel of his land for the construction of a new elementary school and so he bought himself a present after handily wearing out his 5500. He updated me on the Tour de France and we chatted for a while.

I rode to the next town 20 miles down the road. I ducked into a service station to get some Gatorade and more water and as I was filling up my bottle outside, I saw a pickup truck pull up behind me in the reflection on the Service Station window. I heard a lady say, in a German accent no less, "Need a ride?"

I turned around and to my surprise, saw Irv and Barb sitting there in a pickup truck. They had mechanical problems outside of Sebree, Kentucky and a church minister loaned them his truck to go to Ownensboro to wait on a replacement rear wheel. After a joyful reunion, we regaled one another with stories of the road and I accepted their ride to Sebree, eight miles down the road. (That's the first time I've cheated without intending to make up for it in the end, by the way).

On the drive back to Sebree, they briefed me on a shortcut to Carbondale, Illinois that shaves off a few miles. In town, I decided to pop in to a dairy bar for lunch and a milkshake; we made plans to meet up down the road that evening in Shawneetown, Il. I wound up falling asleep for an hour and a half right there at my table after downing my lunch - I just dozed off and no one really bothered me. I finally got rolling out of Sebree, Kentucky around 3 o'clock in the afternoon, but no sooner had I pedaled 300 yards out of town than a massive lightning bolt seemed to strike right next to me, out of a blue sky! Well, the sky wasn't blue for long, as a huge storm front rolled in. I high-tailed it back to town and rode out the storm at the church where Irv and Barb had stayed.

Rolled into a little town around dinner where I had a plate of spaghetti and a cold beer and split a hotel room with Irv and Barb. I wound up sleeping for 11 hours and got a late start on the road today. I've covered about 40 miles so far, but it's over 100 degrees and very windy, so the going is tough.

Regards,
John

Resume!

The three day break for some friend's wedding and my family reunion was great - hard to leave after getting some quality time with Mindy as well, but the road is beckoning! Chris Sparkman and Stephen Brooks, two riding buddies from the Bluegrass have just rolled in and are refueling; we will head out in just a moment, steaming along toward Bardstown, Kentucky this evening.

1st Leg Complete

Riding through the abject poverty of Eastern Kentucky has been sobering; I have never seen such squalor and obvious strife in the lives of Americans. Seeing the way the land has been raped by coal-mining hasn't much improved my sentiments toward the area, either.

I awoke Tuesday in the flea-baggiest of flea-bag motels, where my cohorts and I set out on a 63-mile ride featuring several significant climbs. The first two proved no problem, but 95 degree heat in the afternoon combined with jungle-rotting humidity had me, on the third climb, wondering if I wasn't on the planet Dagobah; sadly, I met no Jedi Masters along the way.

While, waiting out a rain shower at a diner, Mike and I met another chap from the UK, a fellow called Lawrence out of Birmingham. The three of us reunited with Irv and Barb at the Knott County Historical Society, where an interesting fellow did our laundry and gave us iced tea and allowed us to camp in his yard for the sum of $20.

Weathering the night was pleasant, although we awoke to a steady rain. The precipitation actually made Wednesday's 68 mile ride, punctuated by 5 or 6 steep climbs, much more bearable. Nevertheless, the sogginess has me as chapped as a Hell's Angel.

Either way, I have completed the first leg of my journey and have resolved to take a few days off in order to attend the wedding of two friends (I'll see many of you there) and my family reunion (others of you there); my journey will resume in the company of a few pals on Sunday.

Signing off for now,
John Z.

P.S. I am absolutely convinced that riding a bicycle is the best possible way to see the country. Even the worst days seem to bring warm feelings by evening time.

and then there were four...

The past few days since my last post have been a blur. Yesterday wound up being a 70 mile day with an immense climb up Clinch Mountain reserved for the end. I stopped for a rest a few switchbacks from the top and a bear cub crossed the road about 20 yards in front of me, just moseying along. I'd never seen a bear before and boy was he cute! I stealthily reached for my camera, but a car surprised him and he took off.

Needless to say, what had been a 5mph climb for me quickly became a 7-8mph climb, as I didn't want to run into mama bear. I shouted around every switchback, so as not to be too much of a surprise for any other ursas around, major or minor. I cruised into Elk Garden United Methodist Church around 8:00 in the evening, where I weathered the night. There, I met up with Irv and Barb Robinson, who I had been riding mostly parallel with for a few days.

The three of us set out this morning to climb up (the humorously and aptly-named) Big A Mountain. We lunched in Haysi, Virginia, where we met up with Mike Allen, a naturalized British school teacher. He and I will reunite with Irv and Barb around Elkhorn City, Kentucky tonight, but for now are beating the 90-plus heat at the library.

I've been making good time, but the bike is not operating in tip-top shape and I will likely get it tuned when I arrive in Lexington. Prior to the bear and the climb, not a lot of noteworthy riding had taken place for me the past few days. I will see many of you soon at Matt and Becca's wedding.

Cheers,
John Z.

"Walkin' due South, outta Roanoke..."

Crashed at a little motel outside Buchanan, Va. last night and cruised into Roanoke for lunch this afternoon. It's over 90 degress and very humid, but the terrain is so far forgiving. A lunch counter clerk looked at me with a wry smile and said, "You know you're going to have to go over a mountain out of Roanoke?"

I just looked at him as if to say "I've been doing this for three days now - I have been over a lot of mountains." The reality is, I have many more to go...

Either way, I rode for a few hours yesterday with a guy named Doug who just graduated from Emory University. He completed a full Iron Man Triathlon this year, so he was quite an athlete ... he was on a tight schedule and dusted me after lunch.

Meeting people has been the best part about the trip so far - today there was Linda, a lady who had grown lonely and decided to end her AT hike early and Wayne and Maxine, a couple I met at a pizza buffet. Lotsa fun. I'll make for Christiansburg tonight, so at some point I can get back on the route tomorrow.

Regards,
John Z.

Darkest Before Dawn

Yesterday, the 4th, was what can only be described as awful. Though I awoke in good spirits, I awoke to a punishing 4.5 mile climb with a taxing grade. I felt strong all the way up, but the top of the climb was where I joined the Blue Ridge Parkway, a beautiful, but difficult stretch of road. You might climb for an hour only to roll down the other side and begin your next climb a few minutes later. This went on for hours. I entered the parkway around 9:30 and didn't exit until 4:45.

Reasons the day was terrible:
- Taxing terrain resulted in only 35 miles completed on the 4th.
- No access to Gatorade on the parkway.
- My map was stolen from a park bench and I am now in the dark as to the exact route and locations of campsites/groceries/etc.
- Burnt-up brakes as a result of a treacherous 3-mile descent
- Forced to walk the bike downhill while the brakes cooled
- Discovered that one of my sandals managed to fall off the bike and was lost forever
- Developed blisters as a result of walking the bike barefoot
- Dropped the bike upon development of said blisters, slightly bent handle bars
- Bent fender
- General store in town (Vesuvius, Va.) closed for the holiday
- It was starting to rain just about the time I realized I had nowhere else to go and nowhere to re-supply.

I looked up at the sky and said "God, could this day get any worse? I mean, is my situation going to improve?" I was really disheartened, thinking something along the lines of "Nothing about today has been remotely fun."

Not 15 minutes later, a minivan passed by and turned around. Even before issuing a greeting, the driver called out "Do you need a place to stay?" My situation seemed to change about every 15 minutes from there on out. 15 minutes later, I was showering at the home of Rev. Dan and Lynn Stanley in Vesuvius, Va.

And in approximate 15 minute increments from there on out, I was:
- Riding in a car to a Wal-Mart in Lexington, Va. to get new sandals.
- Eating dinner with Dan and Lynn at a delicious Italian restaurant
- Walking around the beautiful Washington and Lee/VMI campuses
- Sitting in a lawnchair on the VMI parade gound
- Watching the VMI fireworks display
- Eating milk and cookies while shooting the breeze with Dan & Lynn and their daughter, Laura, back in Vesuvius
- Talking late into the night with Dan about politics, theology, life-in-general
- Taking my fresh laundry out of the dryer
- Dozing in a comfy bed
- Waking up hours later to a breakfast of home-made waffles
- Mailing unnecessary items home
- Riding toward Lexington with a nice fellow named Doug who is Oregon-bound.
- Eating with Doug at the same Italian restaurant and shooting the breeze

Yep, it's been awesome!

Days 2 & 3

Yesterday, I had a great time riding - made it as far as Mineral, where I met Barry and Vicki, two bikers (the kind that wear leather, not lycra) who offered me a berth at their farm. They lived about 12 miles out of my way, so I thanked them and slept and showered at the fire station.

Had a good old fashioned breakfast in Mineral this morning and made it as far as Charlottesville this afternoon, about 50 miles so far. I hope to make it to Afton, where the famed Cookie Lady lives, but the terrain has been rather demoralizing for a flat-lander like me. It's all I can do to crawl up some of these climbs at 5mph. It's fun to scream down the other side at 35mph, but I invariably have to crawl back up at 5mph. I could really go for a nap!

Signing off,
John

Day 2

Word is that he is spending the night at Mineral VA. Having a great time, great weather, and is on schedule.

The firehouse offered him a shower and a place to spend the night. He is meeting interesting and kind people all along the way.

Day 1

My journey began at historic Yorktown around 10:45. I dipped my back tire in the Chesapeake (just 10 or so miles from the open ocean, so I'm still calling it a coast-to-coast tour.) My parents and I had a tearful goodbye that really wasn't a goodbye — more on that later — but, I was off!

Last night, my aerosol sunscreen exploded in my pannier, so I had no sunscreen today, but was only burned lightly. A few times, my parents seemed to pop up randomly on my route, which I found rather amusing. They are still in the area enjoying some of the historical fixtures — Jamestown, Williamsburg, et al. I can't lie - at one point I accepted some teddy grahams from the open window of their car.

Perhaps a more egregious bicycle touring error was commited by me later. The Adventure Cycling Association registers riders who complete their routes, provided that they stay on the established route for 90% of the time and accept no rides in motor vehicles. Well, my parents and I had arranged that I would stay in their hotel outside of Richmond after my first day; as the dinner hour approached and passed, they grew more and more impatient and picked me up about 5 miles out of town. I voided my official capacity to register the ride — on day one! To keep it honest, though, dad agreed to take me back to the same location (an elementary school) when I start tomorrow.

All in all, I rode 93 miles today, although only 80 or so of those miles actually counted toward the progression of my journey, thanks to a map-reading misstep. No complaints except for sore hands and a sore back from hunching over all day. Until next time, I'll just keep spinning.