Transcontinentalitis, Days 20 - 22 (Gore, OK to Enid, OK)and Photo Archive III

Day 20: Gore, OK to Keystone Lake, OK (115.7 miles, 1517.0 total, 36.1 mph max)

I never thought we'd even break 50 miles today. It was supposed to storm all day. It did, but we missed it all! Not a drop. Hopefully tomorrow will be the same story.


Today felt great. The hills were mild and we're getting into Indian territory. There are signs all over like, "Joe Byrd for Chief," or "Dan Whatever for Tribal Council." 


We went through Tulsa via interstate. Pretty scary, I must say. It was totally illegal, but cops just drove right past. We made it to Keystone Lake. We're doing better every day. We both wake up grumpy and bitter but by the time we're camping it's just hanging out, laughing. 


Day 21: Keystone Lake, OK to Perry, OK (76.4 miles, 1593.4 total, 39.3 mph max)

Arggh! Motel again. We did make it to Perry, OK, though. It was an interesting day. Pawnee, OK is a cool Indian town. We went to the Pawnee Bill Museum. He had a wild west show back in the day. We also got to go to a buffalo auction. 


No rain all day again, but 90% chance of severe T-storms tonight. So, the Dan-D Motel was only 20 bucks. Sleezy, but it has a roof. 


The hills are coming back. It was beautiful country today -- reminded me of "Dances with Wolves." 


I like Oklahoma. I wish we had better weather, tough. Five more days to New Mexico and the Mountain Time Zone. Then the hills will really hit us. 


We've conquered the Appalachians and the Plains. Just the Rockies and the desert left. Half way there! How exciting!


Our bikes are really doing well. Lucky, because there is no bike shop for a couple weeks. Las Vegas, we're guessing.

Day 22: Perry, OK to Enid, OK (41.0 miles, 1634.4 total, 30.6 mph max)

Well, today certainly took a lot of turns.Woke up to a torrential downpour and hung out in Perry until 2 pm. We did some Perry-seeing: Antique shops, pawn shop, Post Office. We were interviewed for the Perry Daily Journal and got a tour of the town by the County Courthouse Maintenance Man in his pickup. What class!


Well, it cleared up around 1 and we split by 2.


There was no rain on the road and we got to Enid by 5:15. A guy who worked at KFC offered to let us stay at his apartment. No thanks, weirdo! (I recall being creeped out by the guy, or else I'm sure we'd have taken him up on his offer.)


We heard tornadoes and thunderstorms in the forecast, so we're in the Trail Motel. $30 isn't bad but we're low in funds already. Fought with Chris today. We needed it.

I had forgotten about all the rain in Oklahoma until now. We spent half a day in a gazebo in Perry, OK escaping the rain. The weather was terrible, and not being from the Midwest, Chris and I were constantly unnerved about tornadoes. Even when it wasn't raining on us, we were able to see an enormous, intimidating sky all around us. Storm clouds a dozen miles away appeared to be chasing us.


The dynamics that Chris and I were enduring are well articulated here. We woke up groggy and sore from long hours riding. Seeping together in a small tent night after night was wearing on us. I recall not talking much in the morning, like a couple of teen-aged girls, until we got some food for breakfast. By then, we were both coming out of our shells. Then, what we were seeing throughout the day got us excited. By the evenings, the accumulation of the day's experiences gave us plenty to chat and laugh about around dinner and a campfire. This trip would be difficult for any two people, and from what I read in other accounts, it's surprising that we didn't split at some point and each ride alone. Our daily crescendos suited us well.

Soon we'd be in the Southwest, which would be the most profound portion of the trip (at least for me). Foreshadowing was coming at us in the form of contemporary Native American culture and the buffalo auction. This scratched the surface but we had no idea what would lie ahead.

We made it to Arkansas! We took photos like this at every state border, but for some reason I can't locate them all.

The article from the Perry, OK newspaper. I like to think of this as being analogous to "Washington Slept Here," but some may disagree.

This is not intended to be a photograph of what I looked like in 1995. Rather, check out that sky and the grin.

The scene in the hills -- somewhere in the western foothills of the Appalachains.

This could be anywhere in the middle of the country -- TN, AR, OK, or NM.

Transcontinentalitis, Days 18 - 19 (maybe Conway, AR to Gore, OK)

Day 18: maybe Conway, AR to west of Ozark, AR (103.4 miles, 1338.2 total, 38.9 mph max)

Whoa baby -- we're cookin'. 300 miles in 3 days. Arkansas in 3 days. We cruised through this state. Oklahoma border by lunch tomorrow.

I like the Ozarks a lot. I did not miss the climbing, though. It's very pretty here. A lot to look at.


The lady at Pizza Hut is from California. She came here and bought a mountain. That's right -- a mountain. She's going to build a house on top and retire. Sounds like a good idea to me. 

Day 19: Ozark, AR to Gore, OK (66.2 miles, 1401.3 total, 35.2 mph max)

The first day in Oklahoma wasn't too bad. We're in a motel again. Thunderstorm warnings all over the state. Looks like we may be in motels again later next week. We've made it to Gore, OK and we'll hopefully make it to Tulsa tomorrow

I like Oklahoma. The towns are neat and the people are nice. And helpful. At Gambino's Pizza the woman working there seemed concerned about us. We had no clue what we were going to do. (I think we were waiting there for a storm to pass). 

We spent two hours in Bicycle Word in Fort Smith. The mechanic was cool and made a sticker since they didn't have any (I just remembered what this was about - Chris and I were each collecting one sticker from each state that had the stat's name on it. In Fort Smith, we were about to cross into Oklahoma and neither of us had gotten a sticker that said Arkansas on it. The mechanic at Bicycle World wrote ARKANSAS on a Specialized bike sticker and gave one to each of us). 

I bought a new wheel. I forgot what a smooth ride was like. What a difference it makes when there's no flat spot in your wheel.

I want to pull a 2500. I'm really getting in shape. (I'm referring to at 2500 meter workout on a rowing simulator; at the time it was the standard by which every rower was compared). It felt like about 20 miles today.

I miss rowing and look forward to spring. I hope to stay in shape.

Anyway, I'm going to relax tonight. I've already watched four episodes of "Welcome Back, Kotter" and plan to veg out to as many as they can dish out on Nick.

Once again, I'm a bit embarrassed at how shallow my journal writing was. Where's the substance? Really, who did I think would give a rat's ass about Gambino's Pizza or Welcome Back, Kotter? Certainly I don't care about it 16 years later, nor do I expect anybody reading this to.

But, what resonates for me in reading these entries are that Chris and I were in the zone. The miles were passing regardless of the weather or roads. We were totally adjusted to what life on the road was: being flexible about whatever came our way, getting to know locals, and doing whatever was necessary to just keep moving. When somebody seemed concerned about us, as in this entry, we shrugged it off. We were accumulating experience at a feverish rate, and with each passing day we were more prepared. We were fine; just fine. I have never experienced this feeling in any other situation.

However, like I wrote before, it's not like we were in Alaska.

Transcontinentalitis, Days 15 - 17 (Jackson, TN to maybe Conway, AR)

Day 15: Jackson, TN to east of Memphis, TN (80.1 miles, 1028.5 total, 30.7 mph max)

The first 10 miles was stuff in Jackson. We found the bike shop and got it together. Flat land today -- a lot of swamps and murky creeks. I'm ready for Arkansas.

We're near Memphis, about 20 miles to the east.  We decided we will take 64 all the way to Enid, OK. Then we'll get back with the book, maybe. I like our route better. The cities are more fun than the country and we're certainly getting our dose of that. The roads are better and flatter. We see a million towns either way.

We saw a lot of southern hicks today. It reminded me of old pictures. They had their straw hats and were dirty, sitting on their porches. 

I've taken the lead for each of the last 5 days or so. It's better because Chris stays right behind me. When he leads I get behind. I don't mind leading as long as the wind is not blowing. But at least I don't have to look at Chris's ass all day long. 

Crossing the (Mississippi) river will be exciting tomorrow. I'll get a picture. We're gonna run out of money.


Day 16: East of Memphis, TN to Morton, AR (95.7 miles, 1124.2 total, 30.2 mph max)


Wow! What a day. We left TN early and Arkansas is like I imagined. Plain. Flat. I thought we'd never find a place to stay. We stopped at a country store in Morton, AR and they're letting us stay in the Flea Market Store in the back (really, a garage that's always set up as a garage sale). Bathrooms and everything.

I was nervous as hell riding into dusk not knowing where we'd sleep tonight. Arkansas is completely different than anything we've seen. Huge farms. Big irrigation systems. Crop dusters. We had dinner in a town called Wynne. It's a small place, but big compared to the other Arkansas towns.

I never rode so many miles flat before. It's not easy. You just never stop pedaling.
Chris wasn't as nervous as I was and got frustrated when I stopped to ask if we could stay here. He doesn't like to ask people things. I think he treats everybody like they're an employer giving an interview. All you have to do is ask. There's no procedure; no delivery. 

For the first time since leaving, I feel like I'm far away from home. The terrain is completely different and foreign to me. But, we're in the plains states now and making good progress. I hope we make it to CA quickly. I hate cycling sometimes. It's hard and very hot outside. The fun starts when I step off the bike. That makes it worth it, though.

Conway, AR tomorrow. Camp there. It's like 95 miles. Hope for the best.

 Day 17:  Morton, AR to an unknown town in Arkansas -- maybe Conway (110.6 miles, 1234.8 total, 28.0 mph max

My God! What a day!

It rained for at least 40 of the miles today, including the last 20. Again, I was scared to death riding up until 7 pm not knowing where we would sleep. And this time it was raining. We stopped at a motel, swallowed our pride, and rented a room.

Rest and relaxation. We actually watched a movie -- some Stephen Segal flick, who knows. But it had a good message about saving the environment.

I don't feel like a wimp because we got a motel room. We maxed out with our distance, but it took a lot of grief. What a day.

It's funny -- once again my memory of this trip is totally different than what I'm reading in my journal. In two cross country trips I've passed through many large cities like DC, Nashville, Memphis, Las Vegas, Portland, Omaha, and a bunch I don't care to recall right now, but my fondest memories are of the towns and spaces in between. When asked about my trips I usually like to exclaim that traveling by bike is the best way to see the country. The pace is just right and America is rooted in the towns. Cities are cosmopolitan, international; it's the small towns where American culture is most pronounced.

My journal doesn't stay where we were after day 17, but on day 16 I said we were going to ride to Conway, so I'm presuming based on the mileage that's roughly where we ended up. I really have little memory of Arkansas other that what I wrote in the journal for day 16 -- Huge farms. Big irrigation systems. Crop dusters.

Friction between Chris and I surfaced again, and this time I immaturely wrote about it in my journal rather than nipping it in the bud before it got out of hand (sorry, Chris!). I wish I'd had his confidence at the time. Seriously, it may have felt like we were in the middle of nowhere but it's not like we were going to starve. This is Arkansas, not Alaska.

And, once again, I've succeeded in crossing an entire state (and TN is long) while bitching about how wonderful the next state is going to be, just to do the same as soon as I crossed the border. As if crossing a state line is going to make much of a difference.

Saving the environment? Who does that? Is that like saving the world?

Transcontinentalitis, Day 14 (Waverly, TN to Jackson, TN) and Photo Archive II

Day 14: Waverly, TN to Jackson, TN (67.4 miles, 948.4 total, 29.4 mph max)

It's 6 am and I just woke up. It thunderstormed from 1 to 4 last night. It was worse than the 2 previous storms. There are puddles in the tent. My sleeping bag is soaked. I sat here for the duration of the storm. It was so bad that I packed all of the stuff in an emergency bag. I really thought there was a tornado. I was imagining getting out of here by the skin of our teeth and having to go home. I hate Tennessee.

The river rose at least 15 feet overnight. That's no exaggeration. The entire campground moved inland around midnight. We're surrounded by campers now, while we were all alone when we went to bed. What a night. I hope I never have another like it.

The day was hot again. We stopped in Jackson and are camping next to a silver bus behind GG's restaurant. I want a shower so bad. Memphis tomorrow. I hope it stays nice tonight.

I remember that night like it was yesterday. The ground under the tent became so saturated that it was as if we were sleeping on a water bed. This one, however, had plenty of leaks and we were drenched. It was not dark because the bright flicker of lightning was constant through the night. Chris and I were concerned of two things: the river rising up around us, and high winds lifting our tent off the ground. Neither of these seemed implausible and as much as I wanted to look out of the tent to see what was going on I couldn't because I was worried about how much weather would come in with the flap open.

The funny thing about a trip like this, from my own experiences as well as accounts from others, is that they often suffer from an acute case of "greener grass" syndrome. In Virginia, we couldn't wait to be in Tennessee. Now that we were in Tennessee, we hated it and were certain Arkansas would be great. I did another cross-country trip in 1999 (no journal, but I intend to try to piece it together after I'm done with this project) and the team suffered from it then as well. On backpacking trips, road trips, and even river trips, what's around the bend seems to always hold promise. I suppose it's the nature of adventure travel. The destination is not the objective, it's the journey. Continuing to keep moving is the best motivated by the curiosity over what lies ahead.


Here are some more photos:

Chris sticking his head out of our home for two months.

The roadside, the day after the Tennessee River rose over 10 feet overnight.

Chris writes in his journal. It's still missing.

Transcontinentalitis, Days 11 - 13 (Cookeville, TN to west of Waverly, TN)

Day 11: Cookeville, TN to Nashville (76.0 miles, 790.6 total, 35.9 mph max)


I saw a hawk sitting on a fence on the right side of the road. The land dropped very steeply below the fence. When I came up to him, he hopped up, took two flaps and soared into the valley. It was graceful and really impressed me.

Yesterday we were riding by some meadows and we saw three horses running and playing. The wind was blowing. It was beautiful; straight out of Little House on the Prairie. 
We made it to Nashville, country music city, USA. A big tourist trap; fun, though. We're taking tomorrow off.We deserve it.

Some beers tonight, bike shop tomorrow, country music shows, etc. I hope to catch up on some writing tomorrow.



Day 12: Day off in Nashville, TN


I can't believe it, but I had a blast today listening to country music. I think I might even like it. We saw the Opryland Hotel; I know where to go for the perfect date. The conservatory was wonderful. When I get home I want to go to Phipp's (the local conservatory in Pittsburgh) and check it out. 

I'm glad we took off and I feel rested. We ought to get far tomorrow.

We met a man named Lowell. Single guy, quit his job and went camping at Nashville. We went to see Vince Cordell and his Dancing Waters (I have no idea what this is, nor do I have any recollection of it. In fact, I'm not sure I'm spelling it correctly because my handwriting is difficult to read) with Lowell. He drove. So, we even got to ride in Lowell's pickup. My stay in the south is complete.

At the Nashville KOA: Dave something, I don't know. A great show with our new friend. We're becoming friends but I'll never see him again in my life. Weird. (I don't actually remember Lowell at all, but for some reason I think he was living at the KOA Campground in Nashville)
 
Day 13: Nashville to west of Waverly, TN (90.5 miles, 881.0 total, 36.4 mph max)


Whew -- what a day. At least it ended good. Sort of. This is how it went: Woke up and took off about 8. By the time we were through Nashville -- and Nashville is very cool -- I got a foreign object puncture. BOOM! Psssssss. . . There was an inch gap in the sidewall. So, athletic tape and crossed fingers should do the trick. Right! That gets us to Dickson, TN.

Some kid pushing buggies at the Dickson Wal-Mart said to go to the bike shop that turned out to be out of business last year. So, we hope it will make it to the next shop - Jackson: 120 miles. 

Just then, I noticed Chris's bike is making noise. We check it out and the tire has a slight bubble and is rubbing on the brake shaft washer. It's already worn a hole through! More athletic tape and get rid of the the washer. Double crossed fingers.

Too more random flats (obvious why).

We made it to Waverly. No bike shop.

I tried a 27-inch Wal-mart tire, but it didn't work and we returned it. (Our bikes, and all road bikes purchased at bike shops come in metric sizes; the parts Wal-mart carries won't work for most parts). Allright. Let's pray like crazy and hope to make it to Jackson, which is now 100 miles away. Dinner at KFC Buffet. Good deal. Now we're looking for a place to camp.

Everything's going bad today. Then, out of the blue, we're at a shopping center parking lot patching our tubes and a strange woman gives us each an ice cold pop (soda). Ok, things may be a little better. Off to find camp. 

I say pull over now, Chris says keep going . . and going . . and going. Now we're about to cross the Tennessee River and, Campground! Right on the banks. Everything's ok until morning. But we need to make it to Jackson and tomorrow is Sunday. Monday is Memorial Day. 

Things could get sticky again. I'll hope for the best.

This is more like the experience I remember. I don't feel the need to supplement this much because it flows in the way the trip felt: cultural experiences, personal connections, and natural beauty meshed with the intensity and spontaneity of traveling by bicycle.

Then again, "Dinner at KFC buffet. Good deal," isn't the most exciting way to articulate the experience I was having . . . who writes this stuff??