We're moving East

We're taking the day off in Pueblo, CO to rest up for our next nine days, nine days in which we will attempt to make the 1100+ miles to Louisville, KY to attend Forecastle folk festival. Tailwinds and early mornings should enable us but I fully expect to need a hitch somewhere along the way.

It's been a while since we last updated. Torrey, UT was full week ago. Many events have transpired since...

Loren was separated from the rest of us for a night in western Colorado. Due to some unintentional misdirection on my part Loren hitch hiked a full 50 miles north of where we needed to go. His front wheel had flatted out twice in the morning so we decided rim tape was the culprit. Intending to meet us in the afternoon, he hitched it North to get to a bikeshop. Of course, an hour of downhill riding later, the other three of us realized we were heading in the wrong direction. We spent a few minutes in silence (mine in embarassment, Eric and Jordan's no doubt in fury) before we turned around to make the 15 mile journey back to our wrong turn. Of course the clouds began to darken and within 20 minutes we were fighting headwinds and stinging rain. Lightning began to crack on the peaks around us so we took cover. Throwing our bikes in a pile we rushed under our tarps for protection.

The rain let up before long and we emerged muddy and discouraged but prepared to continue biking. A truck stopped however and offered us a ride. We gladly accepted and were shortly back on track.

As soon as we could, we called Loren. He had already discovered the navigational error and was trying to figure out how to get back on route. We all decided to just keep biking for the day and see how far we could get, counting on Loren's famed hitch-hiking methods to return him safely.

At 8:00 we pulled into the little town of Norwood and began looking for somewhere to camp. As dark approached it looked as though the local fairgrounds would be our best bet. Suddenly Eric remembered seeing a sign in front of a house on the outskirts of town. We backtracked and soon found ourselves in front of a cabin-esque house with numerous sheds and outhouses dotting the lawn. The sign Eric had spotted said "Bike Route" and pointed down the driveway. Hesitant but hopeful we rolled into the gravel, dismounted, and knocked.

A man of average build with wild brown hair answered the door. His cutoff jean coveralls said "Ropetech- We don't do drugs but we get high." From his cupped hand he plucked cashews and threw them into his mouth as he looked at us. "Hello," he said as if three scraggly bikers appeared on his doorstep every night.

"Hi. Sorry to bother you. We were just biking past and noticed your bike route sign. We figured maybe you were a cyclist and wouldn't mind a few tourers pitching tents in your yard," I said.

He continued to munch on his snack casually and said, "Okay." We tried to explain that we would be happy to pitch tents but he refused and said he and his wife would be glad to put us up inside, in beds in fact.

We introduced ourselves and found, to our surprise, that he was a French mountaineer who had settled in this small city of 1000 to start a professional roping and window washing company. Juju had spent years traveling and was a bike tourer himself (through Madagascar!).

After an exceptionally warm shower I returned to the kitchen to find his lovely wife Laurel (sp?) bringing in hot food from a catered wedding. She warmed the food as the five of us related our backgrounds in their spacious living room. Their house was built around an old cabin and they were slowly improving upon the building as time allowed. As far as I'm concerned however, the house couldn't have been better. Laurel laid the stone tile in their kitchen herself while Juju made additions around the house. It was rustic, warm and wreaked of good stories and better memories. It was exactly the kind of homestead I'd like some day.

To make this long story short, a terrible wrong turn at the beginning of the day ended with wonderful conversation and beds. Laurel and Juju were exceptional hosts, and I would recommend a taste of their hospitality to all travelers. (cyclists can find them on warmshowers) I felt terrible for make Loren spend the night alone in Gateway but he can relate that story. He had an alright time himself.

My hands tire and some food calls. Many thanks to everyone who sent care packages to Pueblo and who support us as we ride. We've been fattening up on cookies and trail mix today, and we have plenty to last us.

Jake

Rainbow Lighting's Return to Glory

And it's Eric -

So I know most of you are probably on edge with anticipation waiting to hear if my bike is okay or not... well it's back in business!

After the cattle guard incident I did go to Dick's house. He is a very nice 80 year old man. He came and picked me up in his little pickup truck and took me to his bike cemetery. After clearing the way of old car parts, random pipes, and rusted bikes; I found a derailer (how it should be spelled!) attached to an old blue miyata road bike. Its called the Falcon, which sounds much better that SunTour!

After a little de-ruster and some TLC it was attached to the Lightin' and working great. This is what I love about these old bikes - you can just make them work with whats on hand. No need to go buy a brand new Shimano $150 derailer for this guy!

Why do they call them continental breakfasts?

Jake here-

After riding through rain much of yesterday (we have now been in rain for seven out of the last ten days) we again splurged on a hotel. We pruned our bodies in the hot tub for two hours last night then fell asleep. Our sleep was fitful however because we were all looking forward to the free continental breakfast this morning. We woke at 5:50 to make the 6:00 opening of the dining area, gorged ourselves, went back to the room for two hours and returned to re-gorge ourselves at 8:30. It's been a lazy, sickening morning.

Yesterday was somewhat eventful. We crested Boulder mountain (a 4000 foot climb) in about 6 hours and then coasted into the little town of Torrey. The excitement occured two miles from the summit when Eric, attempting a balancing act, plunged his rear wheel into the cracks of a cattle grate. His derailleur was mangled so he spent the next two hours in his lowest two gears. (Haha) Eric is now hanging out with a man named Dick(?) who apparently has "a bunch of old bikes in his garage" and can find him a new derailleur. Our fingers are crossed.

I should point out, after adding the "Major Malfunctions" sidebar, that Loren and I both upgraded to Specialized's Armadillo touring tires back in Carson City. We've each had one flat since but they were circumstantial.

I also want to mention that Eric has dubbed his bike "Rainbow Lightning." "Rainbow" because the 1971 Fuji Royale clash of colors hurt the eyes of most passerby, and "Lightning" because it would be better fit conducting electricity than being ridden as a bicycle.

Another source of many laughs has been Loren's absentmindedness. He's lost two helmets and a Camelbak in two weeks. Nuff said.

Uploading Videos...maybe

Jake here-

We've finally found a library that will allow us to upload video--sort of. Some of the clips are very old (the beginning of our journey) and some very new. I would have loved to edit them proplerly on this computer but can't seem to make the editing software run.

I was recently informed that our blog lacks detailes stories, so while I wait for this video to upload I'll give the people what they want.

Most of my favorite moments on this trip involve food--buffets, fast food, slow food, hot and cold food--and this one does as well. A few days ago, descending one of the many mountain ranges of Nevada, Jordan and I somehow got way ahead of Loren and Eric. Traveling downhill, buffetted by wind and rain from all sides, we were chilled to the bone. My long johns were soaked, my shoes were soaked, and my heart was soaked with self-pity. But lo-and-behold, at the bottom of the descent with our momentum slowing and the wind reducing us to a mere crawl, a beacon of hope appeared beside us. A red Honda Element materialized from the mist and pulled alongside me. The window rolled down on the passenger side and a friendly head appeared.

"You boys cold?" yelled a grey-stubbled man. On his other side I could see the driver grinning at us from the warmth of his leather seat.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Want a beer?" the man yelled back. A beer was probably the last thing on Jordan and my minds but any sort of generosity cannot be overlooked. And if a heated beverage is not to be found, what better than a little alcohol to thin the blood. I glanced at Jordan and he nodded with a smile.

"Absolutely!" I yelled. the two men pulled their quintessentially-backcountry vehicle over and stepped out. They were middle-aged, in T-shirts, and clearly having a great time with some younger outdoor enthusiasts. As one pulled a cooler from the backseat and handed us two bottles of San Francisco-brewed Steam Anchor, the other briefly related how every summer they explore Utah for a few days by car. It sounded wildly brilliant as we eyed the empty backseat of their car, our feet squelching in our shoes. They asked if we wanted to save the beers for later, but without giving us a moment to contemplate the reality of drinking cold beers in cold driving rain, they opened them for us and jumped back in the car. Thankfully, they pulled out another bottle for Eric as he rolled up behind us. Just as they were about to pull back onto the highway the window again rolled down and the driver threw us a bottle of smoked almonds. They drove away into the mist not realizing the uniquity of the situation they had just created.

We stood by the side of the road for the next twenty minutes, laughing and harrahing, relishing nuts and brew while we related the beauty of the moment. We talk about those guys every time it rains (nearly every day). Maybe they'll drive up again. But I hope they offer us a ride next time.

and the video still hasn't uploaded. There's no progress bar so I think this library must be slower than touring bikes uphill. I'll try again later.

Pictures/Videos

So we finally got to a library that allows us to upload things, so here ya go

The homeless biker

We were bitter and cold coming down a pass, BUT some random driver gave us some brew~

The amazing scenery

Preparing for the 8500 to 4500ft decent.

3 days hard work paying off!

Cuples Lake campsite

The steeds

We were wayyy too happy to only be 1/2 up the way of the Sierra Nevadas

Just in case you thought we never biked

"Campsite" we made in a random field. Woke up to the cows-a-grazing right before the Sierras.

Not soon enough

Napa valley

Pretty much sums up the weather situation

The fish that Loren didn't catch

"Dipping" our back tires in the Pacific Ocean

1st feast in San Fransisco

Packing our bikes up back in Goshen

We Love the Care Packages!

Jordan writing-

We arrived in Milford around 7:30pm yesterday to the sweet surprise of cookies and assorted treats thanks to Laurie, Debbie, and Darin. Many thanks to you all for the much needed sustenance! The night before was spent in Baker, Nevada, a tiny tourist town with only a few residents. There we met fellow bikers Peter, Scott, and Andy who are doing the exact same trip as us, and were stranded there due to technical difficulties. Peter, however, was able to fix Jakes broken spoke, which was greatly appreciated. To our surprise, there was a great little artsy motel/restuarant called Silver Jack's where if you eat there you can set up your tent in the back for free. So after some delicious burgers we set up our tents in the back and spent the night conversing with our fellow travlers sharing stories of our trips so far.

The next day we set off for Utah, minus Loren who hitched his way due to a bum knee. After exiting the lying state of Nevada we had high hopes for our new residence of Utah to pull through for us and be better..... didn't happen.

So far Utah sucks just as much as Nevada. It looks the same and we got rained on just as much. Today is supposed to be the last day of rain, and supposedly the terrain should change here shortly, so Utah may just turn out to be better than Nevada. We spent the night in a pavilion shared with another fellow rider, Dawn, and a stray dog who insisted on sleeping next to our tent. We awoke to a bible vacation school service for kids who also required the use of the pavilion in the morning.

Today we're taking the day off in Milford and are looking forward to some much needed recovery with the aid of our care packages!

Nevada Lies

Eric writing from Ely, Nevada ~ (No desert here, see Loren shaking?)

Well I think the group consensus is to write the Governor of Nevada and tell him that we are suing the state for false advertising. Have you ever seen one of those "come to Nevada" commercials? They show deserts and flat lands with little oasises of casinos. Well Nevada actually has been one big state of rain, bitter cold, and mountains. We climbed about the same amount of elevation as we did in the Sierra Nevadas. Just going up and down and up and down. BUT in 50 degree temperatures getting rained on, don't let me forget the occasional hail. Needless to say we have stayed in a hotel a couple nights now.

It looks like Utah is much more accommodating though. We should be in Milford, Utah in about 2 days, and out of Nevada by tonight! One more state behind our backs!