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.