Day 19, Mile 1528: Guymon, Oklahoma

Today: 107 miles (of 107 mile course), climbing elevation only 761 feet!

Cumulative: 17 biking days, 1303 miles, 67000 feet.

Oklahoma!

I'm writing this three days after the fact, a combination of poor internet and exhaustion. Already Oklahoma is a blur--and five more days to go to Missouri.

Let's see... I remember entering Oklahoma, and riding with the peletón for a good distance for the first time, but geez, that's about it. I can't remember the hotel, and hardly remember Guymon or the dinner or anything. Wow. Let's look at the photos, hold on...

Ha ha ha, not much help there, either. I'm sure it was an enjoyable day! I'll tell you about the peletón in any case, that was exciting for me. I rode the first 37 miles with them, almost as far as lunch. Dave 'The Wave' (head guide) had mentioned yesterday that, hey, we were getting into flat land and that was what I was good at and had trained on and, well, Oklahoma sucked because of the constant wind and I would find it a really really good idea to ride with the peletón and you know, you can't count on a tailwind everyday, etc. So I said I would give it another try.

Turned out we did have yet another day of tailwinds, though only very slight and it was all quite flat and gently, imperceptibly descending, with flat smooth roads, all making for very easy going. But, nonetheless, I was very pleased to see that I could keep up and even take my turns pulling. The routine is that at every mile marker, the head of the paceline peels off, goes to the back of the line and the next rider in line takes the lead (and the work) for the next mile. In this way, every rider pulls for a mile every seven miles, say, when there are seven people in the paceline. In reality, it's never quite so organized as this for too long and there are disadvantages, too, like seeing only the wheel in front of you for mile after mile instead of the scenery, not being able to set your own pace, and other hazards, as you will see.

When you are not in the lead, you try to ride directly behind the guy in front of you, your front wheel a few inches behind his back wheel. You don't generally want to overlap wheels, as this is dangerous, since the guy in front of you first of all can't really see you and second might have to veer one way or the other to avoid some debris or rough spot or to follow the guy in front of him, etc. If he veers and hits your wheel, he'll typically crash: not good. We have already had one of these crashes where Chris on the first day out of Santa Barbara caught an overlapped wheel behind him in this way and went flying headfirst over his handlebars into the (luckily) deep sand off the side of the shoulder. There are other items of etiquette for the paceline, like pointing out road hazards, such as gravel, holes, roadkill, cars coming from behind ("car back") or in front ("car up") on non-busy roads, yelling out when your going to stop or turn, etc.

Certain behavior is considered in poor form, such as speeding up/slowing down tremendously when you start pulling, overlapping wheels, as I mentioned, spitting or doing the one-handed nose blow when you're not in the rear, that sort of thing. Sneakily riding up to a roadkill without pointing it out, then bunny-hopping it, and hoping that your buddy behind you runs over it and crashes might be really funny, but it's not particularly safe. Similarly, echelon riding may be really tempting (and we've done it) but it's not particularly safe. The Trek Travel guides are keen on rider safety and have drilled these tips into our brains during various group dinner discussions.

So it turns out that, at speed, you are spending most of your energy fighting the wind, either what Mother Nature is sending towards you gratis, or the wind you are generating yourself by biking so darn fast. With these pacelines you can cut the amount of wind the trailing riders are pushing tremendously and even the guy riding behind you (if you are not the end of the line) helps streamline your path through the air. In this way the pack run as a paceline can move much more efficiently and thus faster than if everyone is riding solo. This is why I've been so disappointed to be riding alone almost all the time up until now. But there hasn't been much choice since I wasn't able to keep up on the climbs.

So today, I managed to keep up--for 37 miles, almost until lunch! The Oklahoma border was at mile 11 out of Clayton, and being a sucker for a race, even participated in the traditional sprint for the state line. I actually initiated it. This is only because I'm a real inexperienced rider and broke out way to early, i.e., there was no way I could keep up the attack pace all the way to the far off state line marker. But I did manage to pull out a bunch of contenders with me, who likewise couldn't maintain the pace and thus gave Larry the opportunity to come in and wipe us all out and take the win. (And then he didn't even pose in the photo!)

This was all great fun and the paceline kept up a steady pace of 20 to 22 mph. Once I was dropped, I could only go around 18 or 19 mph, so you can see the difference (and how easy the riding was today). Well, and I biked the whole distance today, too. Yippee.

Day 18, Mile 1421: Clayton, New Mexico

Today: 91 miles (of 91 miles--hurray!), 2929 feet climbing

Cumulative: 16 biking days, 1196 miles, 66000 feet.

Today was cold and windy. I swore I was never going to be as cold as I was on the Pagosa Springs morning, so this time I was prepared, but I was still cold! I left the hotel in Raton around 7 am. The folks there were incredibly friendly and all curious to know where we were going and talking about the route, the area, etc. I was wearing two layers of bike shorts with bib tops, one that went down over the knee, my ever-popular Brazil soccer knee-socks over a second pair of socks, a long-sleeve undershirt, a biking jersey, a windbreaker, and full-fingered biking gloves. I was still cold. The first hour the sun was stuck behind a bluff as we wound up New Mexico Route 72 through a little canyon going up to Johnson's Mesa (where they found the Folsom Man--among the oldest human remains in the Americas). When the sun finally reached the road, I duly saluted it. But even with the sun, it never warmed up. In the canyon, there were tons of deer, including a posse of young bucks that crossed in front of me. There was also another little flock of wild turkeys. (Later in the day were hundreds more pronghorns, too.)

We did what I think will be our last real climb until we get to the Ozarks in Missouri in a week or so. It was really steep, but only about 2 or 3 miles. On top of the mesa, we were in prairie land--all God-forsaken windswept and forlorn with the occasional group of cattle. There was an icy, icy wind from the north (i.e., our left side). On the mesa the road was a little, bumpy, hilly thing with nary a car or truck every 15 minutes, though at one point a group of horsemen drove a herd of cattle across and along the road for a ways. We passed a little stone church from the 19th century with the tiny graveyard across the road and the obligatory two outhouses in back. It looked so tiny, cold, and insignificant in this vast landscape. One can imagine it being a welcome salvation in a snowstorm or something, especially back in those olden days. I was too cold to stop for photos, which would have involved taking off gloves and pawing through all my layers.

Then I got a flat. Why does this always happen in the most inappropriate places. The vans and all but a few riders had passed me by. I fixed the flat, but in my haste didn't notice the thorn still stuck in the tire and the replacement tube flatted instantly once I had it all back in place. Luckily Hassan, one of the group, passed by and had an extra tube so I wouldn't have to use a patch and helped me out, neither of our frozen fingers much able to manipulate the tire and wheel back in place. I had no cell signal to call the van, but I knew it would be back eventually, anyway, and sure enough, it came by a half hour later, urged on by the other riders that knew of my plight. By this time, of course, I was back up and riding, but I availed myself of the good pump in the van and got two fresh tubes. A few minutes in the heated van was a welcome respite, and I pulled out my rubberized black jacket to add a fourth layer on top.

Now I was far, far behind everyone else. I hate that, even though I usually end up in that position by afternoon anyway. But I plugged on. I always stop at all the historic markers and plaques along the way. In Folsom, where I expected one about the Folsom Man, there was one instead dedicated to a telephone operator. In 1908, she died in a flash flood, having spent the last hour of her life calling everyone and warning them of the wall of water rushing down the Cimarron Dry Canyon towards the little town. Operators from across the country raised money through a campaign of dimes to erect the memorial to her and her heroism. Amazing.

By now I was down off the mesa all the way down to 6500 feet of elevation where the air is palpably thicker and its easier to breath. I couldn't remember the last time I got a good satisfying lungful of oxygen! Clayton, our destination today, is at 5000 feet--oxygen!!

From Des Moines on into lunch and all the 50 miles remaining into Clayton, there was a tremendous tailwind! Two days in a row! But it wasn't fun like yesterday. I was grouchy, in a bad mood with the flats, the cold, fighting with my girlfriend long-distance... But the afternoon was over in a snap. Even though the road into Clayton was a big divided highway like an interstate, it was pretty smooth, safe, and easy.

When I got to my room and showered, I laid on the bed, started to read and fell fast asleep. The alarm for dinner awoke me nearly three hours later from some incredible dream. I dreamed there was some kind of spirit angel soothing me and telling me that this was a very special place of total relaxation and recuperation, providing exactly what was necessary to a weary wayfaring soul seeking refuge and rest. Nice!

Note: Be sure to check out Berkas' (one of the guides) photos of the trip.

Day 17, Mile 1330: Raton, New Mexico

Today I biked 82 miles (of 93 mile course), 7000 feet of climbing, nature: mother deer with two babies (x2), wild turkeys, prong horn antelope herds, awesome double rainbows in the trees.

Cumulative: 15 biking days, 1105 miles, 63000 feet.

After a day of rest in Taos, we set out again. The group is down three riders, two had elected the only-to-Taos option and one had a business emergency. So now we are 14 (plus 2 guides, massage therapist, and assistant).

The day started with a gradual 17-mile climb through Taos Canyon, a lovely descent to Angel Fire ski area, then up to Eagle Nest. There we were hit by a brief windy rain squall, which I chose to ride out in the van. There were huge cross gusts of wind. I was scared and I don't like biking in the rain. I got back on the bike at the top of the Cimarron Canyon. It was the most beautiful ride with the trees at peak color, the cliffs awesome, and the descending, recently resurfaced road a delight, despite the few lingering raindrops in the sun. We lunched in Philmont, the huge Boy Scout tract.

All this land around Cimarron used to be part of the Maxwell Land Grant, supposedly the largest private land-holding in the world in the late 19th century. From Eagle Nest all the way to Raton there was a tremendous tail wind (hurrah!!)--probably around 25 mph with larger gusts coming directly from behind. What fun to zip across the high prairie at 30 and 35 mph with so little effort, looking out for pronghorn, bison, and elk. The last few miles into Raton were along Interstate 25, featuring treacherous gusts of cross wind and giant grasshoppers the size of small frogs. At the off ramp, I just jumped the fence with my bike (a bit of a feat in bike cleats) and crossed to the hotel rather than fight the whipping wind to go around the end in the usual way.

Goodbye Rocky Mountains! On to the Great Plains!

Day 15, Mile 1236: Taos, New Mexico

Today I biked: 70 miles (all the hardest parts of 140 mile course), 8000+ climbing.

Cumulative I've biked: 14 biking days, 1023 miles, 56000 feet.

This is probably the hardest day of the entire trip. Everyone was very nervous. At least the weather was good, though really cold to start. In the two previous years that the trip has run, both times the Taos day was horrible rainy weather. In 2007 there was even hail! Naturally, we left the breakfast place in Pagosa Springs at the crack of dawn around 7 (Trek Travel had arranged to get them to open up early at 6 am). The temp was below freezing and we were all under-dressed. I have plenty of warm kit, but failed to put it on. I had my regular fingerless gloves, only a single layer of shorts and jersey, with leg warmers and a windbreaker. I thought I was going to die from the cold. The route starts out winding up through a mountain valley, so we didn't really see the sun for over an hour and I wasn't warm until my trip timer read 1 hour 41 minutes (in fact, the LCD display was dead due to the cold for the first hour). There was frost in the fields. It was one of the only times I was thankful for climbing. The few downhill segments were tortuously cold! Going up is less wind and you're working hard.

At the end of the first long gentle climb of about 20 miles we crossed into New Mexico. There was no state line sprinting competition this time! Within the first few miles of New Mexico, I was in my accustomed position of dead last. Another 15 miles in I jumped in the van and shuttled up first to a lightning fast lunch and then to the bottom of the day's big climb. This is a section of Highway 64 leading up and around the Brazos Cliffs. The climb is 9 miles apparently straight up peaking at a little unnamed saddle at 10481 feet.

The climb took me over and hour and a half with lots of sections under 5 mph. Pathetic, but at least fast enough not to fall over :-). Right before the very last hairpin turn is a scenic pullout. The view was incredible. No, I mean the most incredible view I have ever seen. I took pictures but they just don't even begin to give it justice. As I pulled into the turn off, I was actually crying like a baby. I guess the beauty of the view, the music in my headphones, and the incredibly arduous journey up the wall of the mountain was just emotionally overwhelming. I sat down on the edge of the precipice in a meditative pose and gazed out over the infinite waves of multi-colored forest and distant mountains and cried and soaked it all up, embarrassed by my gushing so I didn't look as other bikers passed me on their way to the final summit (and the waiting van with lunch #2). I must of sat there for 15 minutes until I was back to something like normal.

Then I went and ate lunch #2 and continued on. It's amazing the calories you have to ingest to do all these miles day after day. We calculated that today's 140 mile, 10000 feet, 10 hour day required close to 10000 kcal of food input. Compare that to a very active man's diet of maybe 4000 kcal/day. Eating enough has become a real chore, believe it or not. We are eating constantly, constantly.

There were yet more climbs which I finished, but then I was just exhausted and caught the van into the hotel, covering on the bike just half of the total route mileage. Amazingly, there were only two dropouts for the day. Everyone else made it in before dusk (barely).

Taos is beautiful, as is the 5-star resort hotel, as is the fact that we have a whole entire rest day tomorrow!!!

Happy biking!

Day 14, Mile 1096: Pagosa Springs, Colorado

Today: 60 miles, 3146 feet climbing.

Cumulative: 13 biking days, 953 miles, 48000 feet climbing.

'Nother easy day. Woohoo! More beautiful mountains. And we stay at a hot springs resort. Nice!

The bird is the Colorado state bird, the magpie. There are a lot of them and they have a very distinct look when perched and when flying.

The cool rock formation is Chimney Rock. The namers saw it from the east where you don't see the second rock sticking up like that, but the better view is from the west as we approached it. There are Anasazi Indian ruins near the peak, though they only inhabited it for about 50 years from 1075 AD to 1125 or something like that. Weird, huh?

Day 13, Mile 1036: Durango, Colorado

Today: 43 miles, 2877 feet climbing, nature: bald eagle, beaver dams and lodges, horses, biting horse flies, beautiful mountains, streams, glens.

Cumulative: 12 biking days, 893 miles, about 45000 feet climbing

Elevation: current 6500 feet, highest today 8150

Lovely short route today, albeit with a few hefty climbs, skirting the southwestern edge of the San Juan Mountains, one of the most beautiful mountain ranges in the world. Tonight we stay in the lovely historic Strater Hotel in Durango (1893) and tomorrow we continue through the San Juans to Pagosa Springs, another 60 miles. The original cross country trip in 2007 covered both these segments in one day.

Believe me, the current two-day version is far superior. Two of my fellow travelers, Larry and Kelli Oaks, took the 2007 trip, too (the only repeats so far on this trip...until I do it again next year with my brother Dan) and they said it was killer. Keep in mind, too, that the day after Pagosa Springs into Taos is 140 miles with 10000 feet of climbing. Larry and Kelli are in fantastic shape and completed every mile in 2007 and for sure will do so this year, too.

I did the whole route today no problem. I'm feeling fine and strong and feel like I'm even getting the hang of climbing, too. Interesting that I seem to be actually gaining weight at the same time my belly fat is disappearing. I guess that the muscle I've grown outweighs the fat I've lost. I never would have predicted that!

Day 12, Mile 993: Cortez, Colorado

Today I biked: 32 miles (of 101 mile course), about 2000 feet of climbing.

Cumulative: 11 days, 850 miles, 42000 feet

Elevation here in Cortez is 6000 feet, and we have covered 30% of our route across the continent.

Well, I rode in the van a lot today, as promised. And...I feel fantastic--ready to be back full-time.

I took the van out to mile 25, at Navajo Twins rock formation, where the San Juan River comes in from the east. I set out here and rode to the Colorado border. I rode at a high cadence and went pretty fast, which felt great. My goal was a zero-effort day, but better than spending the entire day in the van.

Turned out that one of the guides, Berkis, this young sweet and very strong rider, was mopping up the rear and caught up with me about 5 miles from the border and I went all out racing him. Now, of course, I have no illusions that I could ever beat him or even challenge him, for that matter, but I went all out for those last hilly miles and I like to think he had to work a bit to keep up with me.

Then we made a sprint for the border where I managed to psych him out, yelling out to him as he passed me, "I have nothing left!" then, in fact, had a wee bit in reserve and dashed past him to cross the cattle guard into Colorado just in front. It was all good fun and very exhilarating. I was at a heart rate of 188 (I know exactly what this feels like thanks to my trainer in London who got me there routinely) and my legs were shaking when I dismounted. But what a kick! I forgot I could go so fast and have so much fun on a bike. Then, of course, we got in the van. Just as well, the last 20 miles into Cortez were relatively ugly and, you guessed it, against a head wind.

It was great getting in early, too. I had time for a swim, did the laundry, and even got in a little upper body workout in the hotel gym. The next two days are short as we head into Durango then Pagosa Springs, but after that we have a 140 mile 10000 feet climbing day into Taos.