Headed into creepy

We decided to go off route to Wichita, mostly because we've been listening to Gillian Welch and she sings about Wichita. It took us a few days to get here, and we decided we like some time off the Tran-American bike route. The popular route our maps provide through America is awesome, but it is predominantly small town with poorly paved bike lanes (and less traffic.)
Through Kansas, the main highways are rural enough and I greatly appreciate drafting off of semis in the wind.

- Beth

Once in Wichita, we decided that instead of heading back towards the planned bike route in Missouri we'd go into Arkansas and down from there. It is more direct than the transamerica route, so we'd make NOLA sooner. And, arkansas is creepy. We like creepy, and we hope to find us some creepy. Only during daylight hours though, especially since my tazer got stolen and we met a cyclist headed west who said a young girl he camped with (also a cyclist) had been molested in Kentucky. Bad things happen, there are bad people out there. We have been fortunate not to have run into any. But remember, bad things happen in your own home or town just as often as for travellers.
That is something I get upset about, that many people fear traveling and being vulnerable. But the only way to know if bad or good is winning is to go out, and find out. We have gone out, and found only good. People generous to the point of guilt, people curious and excited for us, even when we refuse to meet their eyes or answer another where-you-from?-going?-you'se-still-got-a-ways-to-go-AReYOuTWINS????!!
People who will buy our food, behind us in line at the gas station. A quiet old man with a cane who said "I seen you girls on the road earlier. I'm proud a' you'se". Hotel housekeepers who wash our weeks-old laundry, for free.

-Mary

Tay tay is not scary at all like Larry

Well the Internet somehow deleted the post I wrote on tatum, so that sucks. She was so perfect. When I grew up we had a shitzu named naomie that I loved more than anything, and had never met a dog as personable and communicative as her... Until tatum. When I laid down, That baby would run at me full speed with her hot pointy little nose until it smashed into my face. If I put her down, or took her out of my shirt (where I carried her on the bike looking for a crate) she would whine. When it was time to put the tent away in the morning she would jump inside and lay down belly up with her mouth open like a little Venus fly trap waiting to close on whatever finger might attempt to move her. The only time I left her alone (in the bathroom one morning, because she wouldn't get up to follow me) when I got back she was crying so loud and when I opened the door and lay down to apologize, she jumped on my chest and licked and bit my face in a frenzy. I knew it wasn't practical to take her on this trip, and as we continue through Kansas I'm glad I gave her away since its now above 100 every day. But I have wanted my own dog for awhile now, and none will be more perfect than she was. I think the woman who took her knew how perfect she was though. She was very excited. And Tay tay will have a yard and someone to love her all day, every day.

Something weird happened a week or so ago that we forgot to write about. We stopped in a tiny town (Boone, CO) to camp at a park. An old man named larry taylor came over and talked to us for a long time about a bike trail he founded and all the local businesses he owns, and invited us over to use the Internet and/or his electric guitar and/or stay the night. When he finally left us alone a family came to tell us he has been a huge problem in the town and has a long criminal record, including years in a mental institution. A few years back apparently he kept an 11 year old girl in his house for three days before she managed to escape. He was put in jail for it but the city mayor (who was also weird, brought us a Tupperware full of steak the same night... Steak was good) bailed him out. He has been warned by police to leave bicyclists alone, and the adventure cycling association that has organized this trans-America route we are on may soon have to re-route the Colorado section so it no longer goes through Boone because of him. This is sad for the town since 2000 cyclists do this route per year and the one tiny store there relies heavily on us for business.
Fortunately scary Larry (that is what they call him) did nothing to us. He did come back to show us maps of the bicycle route he founded (a lie) and again to point out all the buildings he owned (another lie) and again to tell us that night's sunset was the best he's ever seen (a lie, hopefully).
-Mary

Breaks

We are in garden city, Kansas today. We made it through the rest of Colorado a few days ago and camped in Holly, Colorado, four miles from Kansas. On our way from the gas station to the campsite we passed a small friendly dog, and stopped to pet him. His owner came outside and we talked for a long time. He was from Holly and had moved to wine country in California, and moved back to Holly with his wife a few months ago to retire. His son owned a multi million dollar company, and it was interesting that he chose to come back to Holly and retire after living in big cities. He was getting ready to go eat dinner with his wife at the Subway in the local gas station- the only exciting option in Holly. That's where we ate dinner, too. He told us that his dog had just had puppies, and was selling them for 50 dollars. After looking up "bike touring with dogs" online Mary decided to buy one ( it was a shi-tzu puppy, which usually go for 500 to 1000 dollars.) apparently a lot of people travel with dogs on bikes, some for years at a time. And the puppy was trained, beautiful and happy.
We bought her, named her Tatum, got her some puppy food and camped with her that night. The next day we planned on riding into Garden City to buy a venitaled cage to attach to the bike, but the more we thought about it we realized it was not fair to bring her on the bike trip in case something happened to her. She was very happy riding that day, but you can't control hailstorms or getting hit by cars or anything else that could possibly hurt her. After another night, a few fights, and almost splitting ways, we decided on either bringing her to the local shelter or putting her on Craigslist. We stopped in a small store to buy some sodas this morning, and the owner of the store loved Tatum. We told her what was going on, and she said that her elderly single mother needed a puppy. We talked for awhile and then crossed the street to look for puppy supplies. On our way back to our bikes, she came out of the store and waved us over. Her mother had come down to see Tatum. The two of them were very kind, the mother had a large yard and Tatum liked her, so we gave her up. It was a horrible decision to buy her, an amazing few nights with her, and a hard time parting. We didn't feel like riding after all that, so we did a large circle around town running errands and came back to the same campsite tonight. I feel stupid, and a little defeated, but I don't regret meeting that little angelpuff for a second. Tomorrow, we will get back on track. Together. Without any animals.

Over the mountains and through the woods

Riverside, WY was the city we were to spend our last night in before entering Colorado. It has a population of 64, so we were expecting a quiet night. But the night we arrived happened to be the kickoff of Whatfest, a local bluegrass festival. It was held in and behind the two bars in town (we can't figure out how those bars support themselves in a town of 64 every other day of the year.) We decided to stay a day to see some more of the local music. The next morning we were hanging out in a river near the festival, and a party van showed up. A band unloaded and came down to the river- and brought us great beer from a brewery in Fort Collins where one of them worked. They were all so kind, and we saw them play later that night- They were awesome, the Lindsey O'brien band.
After our break we weren't really looking forward to getting back on the road because as soon as we got into Colorado, the Rockies (and our highest summit on the entire route) were looming.

-Beth

Wyoming was very interesting with all it's tiny ghost towns leftover from mining booms, but also lonely and disorienting because of so much open space and so few people. So the WHAT festival was a perfect last day.

Colorado so far is filled with much bigger and more outdoorsy towns (REI version of outdoorsy versus living off the land outdoorsy of WY). They are more eco-conscious (the coffee shops provide uncooked fettuchini noodles to stir your coffee instead of stir sticks). They also follow the rules, cyclists here have clip on shoes and spandex. And there are roads you must stay off, which we found out the wrong way.

The day before our largest pass (Hoosier) we were headed to its base in Breckinridge. We turned onto what we thought was the bike path, and proceeded to climb the steepest 5 miles ever. When we got to the top, there was a real fun surprise little loop-de-loo back down the hill to where we started. After google mapping ourselves, we realized we were going the opposite direction of Breckinridge. So we headed back down and decided instead of trying again to find the bike path, we'd just take the direct route. So we climbed through a wee bit of barbed wire and headed east on the interstate to our destination. Soon we heard sirens and a kind officer pulled us over to give us a warning (he could have fined us 22 dollars each, but didn't). He told us to just be careful and get off the next exit, which we gladly agreed was best (since it was the Breckinridge exit anyway).

The next morning, after stopping for champagne and OJ to celebrate with mimosas at the top, we headed up hoosier. The climb wasn't actually much worse than any other, it was more symbolic of all the climbing we'd done up to that point than anything. But reaching the top felt amazing because when I planned to do this trip, that pass was the one obstacle that made me nervous. And now I've done it. From here on, all rivers flow to the Atlantic.

-Mary

After the climb, we spent 80 miles today coasting downhill into Canon City. Apparently it's all downhill to Kansas, and then we have to start planning for triple digit heat in the plains.

Drifting

Days are starting to blend together now and it's hard to know what I'd like most to write about, to remember. Wyoming was full of tiny towns and mostly empty land. Riding 70 miles with no buildings or people around started to feel like drifting in the middle of the ocean. We are so far from home, now but not near new Orleans yet, and I wonder sometimes what I am doing this for. I know that there must be something I need to learn from this, and that I will probably only realize what that is when I finish and look back on it all.
My favorite part of traveling across the country is seeing how differently people live from town to town. Some people seem so happy living in the same small town their entire lives. The locals are so connected to each other that they dont have menus in the restaurants because everyone just knows what their options are. The gas station in town is also a hotel, a coffee shop, the place to buy feed for your livestock, and a pair of overalls. The tiny towns have no choices, and sometimes it's better that way. I've come to like the styrofoam cups of stale coffee with powdered creamer more than the big city's organic fair trade soy cafe misto's. Because the people around that stale pot of coffee will give you yours for free, along with a slice of cake leftover from their sons bake sale. They will tell you all you can hear about the weather, how big the rattlesnakes are, how steep the hills are, and where you can sleep.
I feel that I grow restless too quickly when I stay in one place, and that the beauty and excitement of a new city fades too quickly. Only after leaving do I realize how much I loved the people I was with, and how lucky I was to live in that place. So I suppose this is one thing I have learned, that it's possible to love the same people, the same house and sidewalk and bar and grocery store, for your entire life. That things do not have to change to be special. And I admire these people I have met who know that already.

-Mary

The end of Wyoming

We are almost through Wyoming. I am sort of glad, since about 200 miles of this stretch have had deserts with no towns or service stations. The last 2 days we rode over 80 miles a day, so we decided to take a half day today and rode just 40 miles to Rawlins, WY. There's not much to do here, so we are spending the afternoon drinking rum before finding the cheapest hotel we can. It's only 4pm, but I feel like I am about to pass out because we camped along the highway last night and a pack of coyotes kept me awake; there must have been like twenty of them howling off and on.
Speaking of animal things, we slept at a campsite outside of Yellowstone two nights ago and the bartender told us that we didn't have to worry about bears, so we put our food out right next to our tent ( in Yellowstone we had to lock up even toothpaste before going to bed). The next morning one of the staff staying there told us he'd heard a bear outside his cabin 2 nights ago, and that two grizzlys with cubs had been seen in the area. Mary also read a sign that warned against grey wolves that have been preying on livestock, biting them until they are too bloody to run and then eating only their hearts or fetuses (inside pregnant cows). We also overheard someone talking about catching a four foot rattlesnake in the area we camped last night.
The next few days we will be going into Colorado. We are only a week away from finishing the Rocky mountains. We've heard that the elevation gain is so severe that some cyclists get asthma symptoms and insomnia, so we plan on taking it slow. I'm a little nervous, the hills haven't been fun at all. We went over the Togwetee pass a few days ago ( the second highest point on the transamerica route) and it was almost thirty miles uphill. Six miles into the climb, a construction crew made us load our bikes in their truck and gave us a ride for three miles, because cyclists were not allowed to ride that section due to roadwork. It was a nice surprise, but I feel less secure going into the Rockies without completing that ride.
Other than that, I am so sunburned that my skin feels and looks like shrink wrap after sweating, I learned how to stand on my bike with no hands going down 50 miles of hills, Mary has ass blisters that she's worried about, and we are having what I would consider the best time of my life.
-Beth

Beth only knows how to ride standing up with no hands because I demonstrated. She didn't even know that shit was possible.
Also, the mountains are fun to me. Kind of. They suck until you break a sweat, then it's fine. Sort of like getting in a river that seems too cold at first. And the altitude thing has already got to me, I had bad asthma the first day we got really high. So I'm not too worried. Other than my ass, it's smooth sailing for me.

-mary

Donald

Mary and I finally got a rim for her bike (and a new iPhone that was broken while running from hail) and found a way from Butte, Montana, back to our route. We spent our first night back in Twin Bridges, Montana, at a free bikers camp that we heard about. It had a screened in shack that was beautiful, and free books and miscellaneous gear like tubes. It was funny that it happened to be the night of our 26th birthday, and we were in Twin Bridges. To celebrate, we ate canned beans and corn out of cups from a gas station and passed out before nine. It was pretty wild.
We also met a man named Donald we had ran into earlier. He was camping next to an old jailhouse in Twin Bridges. He is about 50, with longer curly hair. He is pretty quiet and freaking beautiful. In the morning he helped Mary fix her flat while I took pictures of him from my iPhone, like a creep. We accidentally stalked him for the next few nights.
The night after twin bridges (the second night) we found a campground and he was there, again. The third night we stopped at a roadside lodge for a beer before going on, but ended our night early when we found Donald there.
On the second night he walked over to our campsite with a half magnum of wine he couldn't finish. He poured it into our empty water bottle and left us alone. Mary videotaped him walking away. On the third night he came over to play Mary's guitar for a while. We offered him some of our whiskey, and he had his own in a Tupperware container that was a lot better. And he played real good, mostly mellencamp. He introduced us to some fishermen he'd just met, who gave us drinks, potato salad and leftover porkchops and then made us coffee in the morning.
Our mutual infatuation with Donald is complicated. It's impossible to explain his mannerism, tone and inflection over blog so I'll be done with that. Just know that we were sad to say goodbye outside a convenience store eating pickles, where our routes parted ways.

Yellowstone was fun, there were a lot of buffalo and stuff. A lot of people. We passed old faithful, but can neither confirm nor deny wether or not we waited for that bitch to blow.

We climbed a huge mountain today, the second highest on the whole route. We've learned that when climbing mountains, the best stress relief is to cuss out cows that stare at you. That shit is funny, and fun. And they can take it. And its better than cussing out each other, which we've tried. Its hard to pedal and breathe when you're crying. Along with that, here are a few other things we've learned:
-Joni Mitchell must've never gone on a bike trip when she wrote 'they paved paradise and put up a parking lot' because that shit IS paradise.
-To deep condition your hair after harsh uv exposure, cover it in travel size Aveda before riding up a pass, then find a gas station sink and rinse it off. You don't even have to make eye contact with the attendant on the way out.
- self-serve camping pay stations are ALWAYS just REALLY HARD ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE to find.
- Instead of buying expensive electrolytes, just eat a family sized jar of pickles. a day.
- sometimes you finish a soda. and a donut. before you find the cashier. Especially at the end of the month, before your Food stamps are renewed. It just HAPPENS.