Simon's space

I’d been contemplating a long distance tour for quite some time and at New Year I finally took the plunge and booked a flight to Washington D.C.  My plan, if you could call it that, was to cycle as far as I could and hopefully end up somewhere near Los Angeles.  I guess it was never actually going to be a wheel-dipping coast to coast ride, seeing as I was starting from DC, but it was good enough for me.  I don’t own a touring bike and didn’t plan on doing any more touring once I returned, so I bought myself a Bob Yak trailer to hitch on the back of my Audax bike to carry all the luggage.  As it turned out, the trailer was one of the successes of the trip and apart from a couple of punctures, it performed flawlessly.  It was also a lot cheaper than a new bike.

I had planned to spend a couple of days seeing the sights in DC, so I hired a car before I left the UK.  This would also enable me to get my boxed-up bike, trailer and luggage from the airport to the hostel where I was staying for the first two nights.  Although Washington was great, two days of cursory sight seeing were enough for me and I was itching to get going.  However, the weather had other ideas and it rained virtually all day on the day I left.  I spent an hour or so contemplating the enormity of the task ahead before finally unpacking the bike, trailer and luggage and setting off.

My point of departure was actually the Alamo rental car park at Dulles International Airport.  Not quite the idyllic view of the Atlantic that I had previously imagined, but the exit from the airport was easy and I was soon out, alone, heading through the Virginia countryside.  I set off just after lunchtime and I didn’t make it far down the road before the driving rain and ever decreasing visibility put a stop to the ride.  I’d only managed to cover 65km before I was forced to check into a motel for the night.  This had not been the start I had anticipated.  I hadn’t covered anywhere near the distance I had hoped, it was cold, wet, windy and I spent that night wondering if this was such a good idea.

Fortunately the next couple of days saw brighter weather and longer distances.  I continued south west, following the highway through rolling Virginia countryside with the Appalachians ever present in the distance.  Towns in Virginia were a mix of industrial sprawl and picturesque colonial houses, but the countryside was undeniably beautiful.  I tried to avoid the mountains as much as I could but did venture onto the Blue Ridge Parkway on at least two occasions.  This is a road, closed to all commercial traffic that runs the length of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  Almost immediately upon entering the mountains proper I realised I was carrying too much luggage and when I saw a small post office, I decided to forward some of the items that I decided I ‘probably’ wouldn’t need, to L.A..  It’s funny how after one sunny day in the mountains you decide you won’t need your overshoes, gloves or map book!  The post mistress was extremely helpful and supplied me with a box, parcel tape and scissors and I set off a few pounds lighter.

I spent a total of 8 days in Virginia, more than in any other state.  This was mainly due to the south westerly route I was taking, rather than the westerly route that I would adopt for the rest of the ride. 

Crossing  into Kentucky involved traversing the mountains.  I spent the best part of two days riding from Wytheville, VA to Hazard, KY.  One day was mostly up, the other was mostly down, but I managed to clock up 300km between the two.  Kentucky was again very picturesque but very hilly, especially in the east.  It is also populated it seems by a huge number of wild, or at least un-tethered, dogs.  I’d read about this phenomenon on the internet and to make sure that I would arrive in L.A., at least un-chewed, I picked up a can of pepper spray at an army surplus shop.  On the flat, most dogs can be outrun, but up-hill with a trailer is a different story.  A quick squirt with the pepper spray soon puts an end to the chase!

For the most part I avoided large cities, so as to also avoid the traffic.  I continued west through Kentucky, passing through Bowling Green, home of the Chevrolet Corvette and running due west, parallel to the Tennessee state line.  I resisted the temptation to drop down into Tennessee on several occasions as I didn’t want to add any additional time to my journey.  The weather throughout the Midwest was also a bit hit and miss, so I was quite keen to press on and get somewhere sunny!  A relatively flat day took me into Cadiz, KY where I was interviewed by the local newspaper.  The manageress of the motel I stayed in that night thought I would be a good ‘human interest’ story and contacted the local paper.  A reporter came to my motel room that evening and we chatted about the trip, gas prices, Iraq and George Bush.  He took a couple of pictures with the interstate as a backdrop and said he’d airbrush it out later!

With violent thunder storms in the area I kept a close eye on the weather.  There were reports of tornados touching down in the county directly to the south of my motel, which is not so much a problem when you’re inside, but out on the open road is a different matter.  I didn’t know until I got there that this was in fact what they call ‘tornado alley’ and May was peak tornado season!  I passed through more rolling Kentucky countryside during the next couple of days before reaching the Confluence of America; the point at which the Ohio and Mississippi rivers meet.  One of the reasons I had not wanted to deviate too much from the route I was on was that there weren’t too many options for crossing these two rivers.  As it turned out, the crossing wasn’t all that bad.  I first traversed the bridge spanning the Ohio River, where I stopped at Fort Defiance Park to take some pictures.  The park was the location where Lewis and Clark had spent a week learning how to determine latitude and longitude on their westward expedition in the early 1800’s.  I was surprised to learn that I’d actually crossed into Illinois at this point.  I hadn’t noticed that the area on the map between the two rivers was actually in a different state!  Another bridge, similar to the one across the Ohio, took me over the Mississippi and into Missouri.  As the choice of crossings was limited, there was quite a lot of truck traffic, especially on the Missouri side of the river, but this soon thinned out and I was back onto quiet rural highways again.

Of all the states I passed through on the trip, Missouri had without question the worst roads.  Many of them were poorly surfaced and in need of repair.  The shoulders, which had until now been wide and smooth became potholed and frequently un-surfaced altogether.  Missouri was also the only state where I was forced off the road by another vehicle.  I am sure this was unintentional, as the highway was relatively narrow and the condition of the shoulder meant that I had to ride on the road itself, along with the heavy truck traffic.  It was a minor incident, but one which served as a reminder of my vulnerability as a cyclist.

Missouri was also hard going for another reason.  It is probably one of the hilliest places I have ever been!  Apart from the area near the Mississippi, it was almost all hills; not steep but rolling and one after the other.  On one occasion I rode a 100 mile section between Poplar Bluff and West Plains through the Ozark Mountains and I don’t remember seeing a single stretch of flat road.  I hadn’t until now taken a rest day and actually felt ok.  However, the weather report for the next day was not good, with rain and 30-40 mile an hour winds in prospect.  Having ridden 17 days without a break, I decided to have a day off in Seymour, a small town just east of Springfield.  Of course, it was just my luck that the next day’s weather turned out to be not that bad.  It was actually the following day that the wind blew and the rain came down.  I only managed 50km into Springfield, my shortest day of the whole ride, before I was forced to stop for the night.  The next couple of days were also very windy and a taste of things to come, as I headed over the state line into Kansas.

It seems that everyone I’d met on the trip so far had only bad things to say about Kansas.  They warned me that it was flat and boring with nothing to see.  The reality was though that it was one of the prettiest states I’d so far encountered.  It certainly wasn’t flat, not in the south anyway, and the rolling hills reminded me somewhat of the moors.  It wasn’t quite as green as the other states I'd been through and the terrain was even at this point becoming more arid.  Kansas was in fact experiencing a drought and according to the newspaper headlines the grain harvest was expected to be quite poor.

It’s generally agreed that it’s easier to cycle from west to east than east to west because of the prevailing winds and if there was ever a point on the ride where I wanted to pack, it was in Kansas.  I have never experienced such a persistent head wind anywhere before.  Apparently this is quite normal for Kansas, but on some days I had to pedal out of the saddle, on the flat, just to avoid being blown to a standstill.  I passed through one small town, where a week earlier, a freight train had been blown off the tracks.  For almost my entire time in Kansas the wind was noticeably strong.  On several days the wind speed exceeded 25 miles per hour.  The weather wasn’t bad as such; in fact it was sunny and quite hot.  It was just very, very windy; to the point where it made you want to quit.  The other noticeable thing about Kansas was that the entire state appeared to slope upwards from east to west and you do in fact gain about 2500ft in elevation by the time you reach the western side.

My motivation for pressing on was the knowledge that I would soon be making a course change and heading south west again.  I reached Dodge City in western Kansas 24 days after leaving DC.  Dodge City was fairly uninspiring and is home to an enormous beef processing plant.  I visited Boot Hill, most of which consists of a fake frontage erected for the benefit of tourists.  The city is primarily a cow town and it seemed, not much more.  It was however a good staging post for my next day’s ride down to Liberal, close to the Oklahoma state line.  The major towns were definitely further apart now, so there were several long days of riding in prospect.  The ride from Liberal would be the longest of the entire ride; 182km across the Oklahoma and Texas Pan Handles.  I had to do this because there was simply nowhere to stay between Liberal in Kansas and Dalhart in Texas.  Apart from the hostel in D.C., I had so far stayed entirely in motels, my motel of choice being Super 8 who were cheap, had comfortable rooms where I could store the bike and for the most part had a very good breakfast buffet; some even had pools.  Even though I was carrying all the necessary gear, the prospect of camping wasn’t one that I relished, so I pressed on along the dead straight and thankfully mainly flat highway.  Oklahoma is only about 70 miles wide at this point, so it didn’t take me too long to reach the Texas state line.  Strangely enough though, it wasn’t until this point, when I stopped to take a picture of the bike next to the state line marker that it occurred to me that I had actually cycled quite a long way!  I was keen to reach Dalhart, as it had also been one of the hottest days so far, so I pressed on.  Although Dalhart was another city whose primary industry seemed to be beef cattle, it did benefit from being able to serve the best steaks I have ever tasted and I enjoyed a great evening meal at the diner next door to the motel, at a bargain price to boot!

My south-westerly heading meant that I only spent one night in Texas.  My next day would take me 158km further down highway 54, into New Mexico.  I was starting at about 4000ft and would gain about another 600 by the time I reached Tucumcari.  It was just as I reached my destination for the day that I met my first touring cyclists.  I was quite surprised, as other cyclists had until now been noticeable by their absence.  The couple had ridden down from Vancouver, circled the Mid West and were heading for Phoenix in Arizona.  I would cross paths with the two several more times over the next couple of days, as we all headed along the old route 66.

Although route 66 once ran from Chicago to L.A., most of it is now interstate or has been absorbed by other highways.  It’s still a Mecca for travellers and I met numerous motor cyclists who were making the journey along its length.  Roads become fewer and further between as you head into the western states and it was in New Mexico that I had to make my first excursion onto the interstate.  Outside Tucumcari, once again heading west, the old route 66 ends and it becomes interstate 40.  This is essentially the equivalent of cycling on the motorway; however, state law permits cyclists to cycle on the shoulder.  This concession is given simply because there isn’t any alternative.  As it turned out, this wasn’t as treacherous as I thought it was going to be.  Although the speed limit on some sections is 75mph, the shoulder is plenty wide enough to avoid any effects from passing vehicles and I never had any undue concerns for my safety as I leapfrogged between the interstate and the remaining sections of route 66.

One of the benefits of travelling east to west is that you become gradually acclimatised to the hot weather and altitude.  New Mexico is generally quite high up and for the first couple of days riding, I was feeling it.  Dalhart in Texas is already about 4000ft high and Tucumcari is about 4600ft.  As you travel west through New Mexico you get gradually higher.  I reached 7200ft at Clines Corners, in the mountains east of Albuquerque and then 7245ft at the Continental Divide between Grants and Gallup.  If I’d been travelling from west to east, it would have been a case of ‘in at the deep end’, with desert and high mountains from the outset.

I love the desert and the day that took me across the state line into Arizona was one of my favourites.  The route was mainly interstate, very hot and windy but with beautiful desert stretching as far as the eye could see in all directions.  I stopped briefly at the Petrified Forest National Park for a photo op before crossing the Painted Desert into Holbrook, Arizona.

The next day was another murderously windy 152km stretch between Holbrook and Flagstaff.  Including a lunch stop at Meteor Crater, this was the longest day of the ride in terms of time.  I arrived 7600ft up in Flagstaff at  just after 6.30 pm on the 26^th May… and as it turned out that was going to be my final day of the ride.  I had already decided to take a rest day in Flagstaff, as there were a few more long days of desert riding ahead before I got to L.A.  Until now I had felt fine and had had no problems with the local cuisine.  I’d carried fruit and other food items with me throughout the trip as snacks and usually carried these in the trailer.  However, on the day into Flagstaff, the desert heat finally took its toll on some dried apricots that I'd bought a few of days earlier.  Within a couple of hours of eating them I was hideously ill, which persisted well into the next day and ultimately put a stop to the ride.  A cautionary tale for any long distance cyclist!

I only had about 4 days left to ride before I reached L.A., but there was no way I could make it in my current condition.  As well as being physically sick, I felt very weak.  Even though I’d now reached the highest point on the journey, there was no way I was going to be able to ride, not to mention pull the trailer, so I decided to end the ride at that point.  As it turned out, I didn’t recover fully until well into the next week, so it was the right decision.  I booked myself onto the Amtrak Southwest Chief and travelled overnight to L.A.

I had crossed nine states and four time zones for a total of 4100km in 35 days, so was well pleased with myself.  To be quite honest though, although I enjoyed every minute of it (apart from the windy bits!), I’d had enough.  I was tired of living in motels and wanted some creature comforts and to just sit by the pool.  Everyone I had met, without exception, had been hospitable and enquiring and had made the trip a joy.  Would I do it again?  Definitely.  West to east would be tempting, if only to avoid the ravages of the wind; but I like cycling in the sun and I’d like that to look forward to.   Next time maybe …

Equipment:

This setup worked perfectly for me and I never had any real equipment problems.  I bought the bike from Rick Green Cycles in Handforth about 3 years ago for Audaxing and although not the lightest of machines, it is very comfortable on long distances.  I have to particularly commend them on the quality of the wheels, which after a trip across the States, 2½ seasons of Audax riding, not to mention bashing through potholes on my local roads, are still as true as the day I bought them.  The Bob Yak trailer was definitely a success and never gave me any trouble.  It travelled very well, was waterproof and was stable up to about 25 mph, after which it started to weave slightly.  The Michelin tyres rolled very well and were new when I set off.  Although the Michelin website estimated around 5000km before replacement, I found that with the additional weight of the trailer, the rear in particular was threadbare at about 3000km.  I only had probably 6 or 7 punctures on the whole trip, with a couple of those on the trailer, so I can’t complain.  The main culprit though was the very fine steel wire left on the side of the road from blown car and truck tyres.  This was especially true on the interstate, where it seemed to be everywhere.  The fact that the tyres were wearing thin didn't help.  I eventually swapped my ordinary tubes for puncture resistant ones, which I bought at a bike shop in Albuquerque.  Although these were heavier, I had no more puncture problems after that.  The Brooks saddle was generally very comfortable and is certainly the most comfortable saddle I have ever had on a bike.  Towards the end of the ride though, I was beginning to get considerably sore from the support underneath the rear of the saddle, which made a harsh edge to the otherwise soft leather - possibly due to my mis-adjustment of the tensioning screw.  I took spare brake blocks, power links for the chain and a couple of spare cables, none of which I used.  I also carried a few tools and a small bottle of ProLink chain lube that I used regularly and was essential to keep the chain running freely.  I had battery lights on the bike, although I only used them once on the first day of the trip, and I never rode anywhere without a helmet!

Contact me via my cycling club website at:  www.wheelers.org