The Full Monte

One of the pleasures of the BAK is listening to rider's stories of adventures on the road. Yesterday we had rain—lots of rain. We heard there was an inch & a half in less than an hour. All I know is that is rained hard. Jay Maske & I waited it out in a car wash in our overnight town. But a lot of folks left much earlier than we did and were caught in the deluge. Jay & I had our own misadventures and challenges yesterday, but nothing compared to some of the stories we heard on the road today.

One small group of riders took shelter on a farmer's porch, since no one was home when the knocked. The farmer and his wife came home to find the riders shivering in the cold and wet. They invited the riders in and offered to dry their riding clothes. They loaned the men overalls and the woman a robe.

Another group took shelter in a farmer's machine shed. They shivered in the dark until the farmer came home and hit the garage door opener and lights. The farmer got over his shock and offered the group towels and coffee. Other riders got under tractor trailer rigs or culverts.

But the story that took the prize is the group who made it to Stockton, our lunch stop. They spotted a laundry and decided to dry their clothes. A few had the creativity to buy boxers and towels at the Dollar General store. A few others covered themselves with a plastic trash bag. But one guy stripped bare, threw his clothes in the dryer then sat down and covered his privates with a magazine. I was glad to have merely heard this story rather than seeing the event in person.

For most BAK riders, modesty is relative to the amount of cover available when stopping for a bathroom break. Western Kansas doesn't offer many trees for cover, and there are no porta-potties on the roadside. You rely on your fellow riders to respect your situation and not look if the only cover you have is a telephone pole. But this guy reached new frontiers in BAK lore. I'm sure this story will survive for a long time.

Why? Because it's there.

The Question sometimes comes as a statement that you're crazy. Sometimes it's just a subtle shake of the head in conversation. Sometimes it's just the tone of voice. But The Question is there and it lies beneath the other polite questions people ask about my trip. The Question: Why would you get on a bicycle and ride across the state of Kansas? Why face the heat, cold, rain, and wind and then end the day with a cold shower and a night of sleeping in tents or a gym floor? Even Brenda shakes her head in wonder that so many of us take on this quest every year.

I asked myself The Question on Day 4 when we had 75 miles of riding into a strong headwind. On most days we are able to coast down hills and get a break from pedaling. On this day, we pedaled almost every mile. We all looked shell-shocked as we slowly walked around Halstead. That night, as I updated my Facebook, I noticed a post from my friend, Dale: "I'm sitting on my boat watching my wife take a nap in the sun." I asked myself, "So why am I sitting on a bicycle struggling to pedal into the wind instead of being on a boat or a beach somewhere and sipping a cold beverage?" One advantage of traveling at 13.4 m.p.h. is that you have time to ponder such questions. By the end of the following day I had my answer.

The classic answer mountain climbers give is that they climb the mountain because it's there. I think there is a need inside all of us to overcome a challenge. Most of the time we do this vicariously through following the adventures of others or rooting for a sports player or team. But some of us are not content to sit on the sidelines. We need a real challenge to find out if we've got the stuff inside us to survive the difficulties and the danger. Most of us don't take on extreme challenges such as mountain climbing or trekking across Africa. But danger and difficulty are the essence of what we crave.

I spoke with a friend along the way and he pointed out that we always love the days of riding in mild, sunny weather and tailwinds. But we remember and talk about the days we struggled: running out of water, flat tires, killer hills and headwinds, and semi trucks that miss us by inches. Even though BAK has great support for us, we still have to pedal the miles. And the danger along the road is real. Riding along the white line at the side of the highway is a place where a half-second of inattention can lead to being crushed by a car on your left or dropping a wheel off of the pavement on your right. Either one can lead to a painful and quick end to the day's ride.

I came back from my week tired in body but refreshed in my soul. Could I have been a refreshed by a week on the beach? Perhaps, but I think not. Challenging myself and overcoming the difficulties of the week reaches deeper inside of me that just relaxing. And the challenges are new and different each year. The 75 miles of wind took more out of me than I realized. The following day my legs felt like wood. I wasn't alone. A lot of us struggled that day. I saw lots of bikes on the back of the SAG wagons--people who had to drop out. This year I challenged myself to ride a century--100 miles in a day. I'd attempted a century and failed last August.

I don't foresee mountain climbing in my future. But I'm going to keep looking for ways to challenge myself. Succeed or fail, I need ways to find out what I'm made of. It keeps my soul whole.

Almost First Century

We were all flirting with heat exhaustion. At the 50 mile mark I had made the turn that led to the loop for the 100 mile ride instead of the "safe" 70 mile route that almost everyone else chose. Now my odometer said 85 miles and I estimated I had only 2" of water in my last bottle. The heat index was at least 105, and the two young men who had recently passed me pulled over to sit in the shade of a tree. I pulled up and asked them if they had any idea where the SAG stop was at. They said that they too thought we should have seen it by now. I rode on, hoping it wasn't too much farther. Another 1/2 mile and I saw it. The workers yelled out "thirteen" as I pulled in. That was the number of people still left behind me on the road.

I knew I had to spend some time and cool down, but I also knew time was running out. We had to be done by 4 pm. Of the handful of riders at the SAG, four of us were going for our century ride. And we'd picked one of the hottest days of the year to make the attempt. The next SAG was 10 miles, and it was the lunch stop. After that we had 8 miles to the finish. Several of us quietly confided that we'd been having chills out on the road: a warning that heat exhaustion was nipping at our heels. But so far we had kept it at bay by downing more water and sports drinks.

As I got ready to head out, Joe rode in and announce he was done for. A few miles down the rode, Vince pulled over and signaled a SAG wagon that he needed to be hauled in. I pushed on. The slight breeze was blowing about as fast as my uphill speed. The result was that when I expended the most energy I had absolutely no breeze. The hills and the heat took its toll. I made it to the final SAG. My odometer said 94 miles, but I new I was done. I knew I didn't have another 8 miles in me, even after a full meal. I was satisfied with my ride even though I didn't get a full century. My average speed was 14.5 overall--a record for me.

Today, the day after, I've been thinking about why I made the turn to go for the century even though I knew the risks and the toll the heat would take. I believe there is something in each of us that wants to push the envelope and see if we've got what it takes to be more and do better we ever have before. This drive leads some people to embrace extreme sports and other adrenaline-inducing activities. It breeds entrepreneurs and adventurers and probably some missionaries. Most people find less extreme ways to dare themselves, but I think we all have the need to occasionally get out on the road and see whether we've got what it takes to go where few others choose to go. Even though I didn't make my first century I'm content to have ridden to the edge of my physical limits. I'll be getting in shape for the next time.

Saturday - Horton to the Missouri River

The consensus in our group was that the accommodations for the tenters were primitive enough that we were truly camping. Tent city was set up in a low-lying area below the public swimming pool. We were to use the pool's showers and toilet. (No plural for the toilet--there was only one.) After a shower and a short dip in the pool I decided I'd walk the 4 blocks to the school rather than use these facilities again. I heard reports that the toilet plugged up sometime before morning.
Horton was our lunch stop for the BAK last year. I visited a store I found last year called "The Electric City Emporium". They have an assortment of odds and ends, from tools to party supplies. I found a figurine of a turtle playing an accordion. It's perfect for a "white elephant" gift.
I met up with some of the group I met last year. They were on their way to dinner & I went with them. We found a hole in the wall cafe. It was called "The Hole in the Wall". The food was pretty good. I took a risk and ordered steak. You never know how talented the cook is. Can he cook your steak the way you ordered it? It wasn't overdone, so I was pleased. "Medium rare" usually gives the cook a wide enough target to hit.
Back at tent city the night was noisy. A band played a few blocks away, making it hard to get to sleep. At 10:30 I heard the singer say they were going to take a short break. I thought, "I've got about 15 minutes to get to sleep before they start up again." But someone must have given them the word to turn the volume down. They were much quieter in their second set.
At 4 a.m. I woke up to an owl hooting. It was a pleasant way to be awakened. I hiked to the school to shave. I found that there are no lines for the toilets and sinks at 4 a.m. When I got back to my tent I decided to sleep a little longer. We only had 28 miles to the Missouri river. I didn't need to get an early start. Suddenly a dog chorus let loose a howl like I've never heard before. It sounded like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, that is if the choir were made up of dogs. I was glad it only lasted a minute or so.
BAK provided breakfast for us: Chris Cakes. They bill themselves as "pancakes with attitude". They specialize in tossing pancakes. When I went back for seconds I merely held my plate and the woman tossed 3 pancakes from 8' away and hit my plate perfectly with each one.
The Missouri river was a flood stage so the city of Atchison said we shouldn't go to the river and dip our tires in the water. Most of the riders did it anyway. I'm sure they were worried about liability issues if someone happened to fall in. The water did look treacherous, so we were careful.
A lot of people talk to me as if they think biking across Kansas is a long, slow trip. But when I get to the end, the week went fast. I'm glad to be home, but part of me feels as if it was over too quickly. Even traveling at under 15 mph I find that there are a lot of sights I miss. As I say goodbye to folks I'm sure I'll see a lot of them next year. There will be a new roads to travel, new sights to see, and new people to meet.

Friday - Sabetha to Horton

After riding 155 miles in 2 days, I expected the 47 mile for this day to be easier. I didn't feel as if I had to push myself. There were plenty of hills, but they were manageable. Even though I took my time I still ended up at the lunch town by 10 am.
Hiawatha was our lunch stop. There was a SAG on the west side of town. I got my water bottles filled and went in search of an early lunch. It had been years since I was last in Hiawatha. I had forgotten how dreary a town it is. It seems to be a town without a soul. The business district looked bleak and utilitarian. No cafe nor restaurant was to be seen there. I found a Sonic, a Subway and Pizza Hut on the far edge of town. It was too early for Pizza Hut to be open. So I ordered a hamburger at Sonic. I figured I could take the risk because whatever I ate would be burned up before it had a chance to give my stomach fits. My usual term for Sonic burgers is "gut bomb". I later found that I missed a great cafe just down the road from the Sonic.
I had read about the Davis memorial in our route guide. John Davis built it for his wife, Sarah, who died in 1930. Eleven life-sized Italian marble statues depict the stages of John and Sarah's life. I found the memorial a very sad place. John must have loved his wife because the memorial shows his grief at losing her. But none of their statues show them in close proximity to each other. The depiction of them as a younger couple has them sitting at opposite ends of a bench. The others have them looking at each other from opposite sides of their graves. I was left wondering what they had really been like. The memorial was built before John's death. Why had he arranged their likenesses in this manner? I wished I could ask him.
After more miles of hills I had a 2-mile downhill run into the town of Robinson. Here was a main street with soul. Businesses on main street were well past their heyday, if they ever had one. I saw riders coming out of one of the buildings with "bomb pops", frozen sugar water on a stick. I went inside and saw that this was not quite a grocery store. It wasn't even quite a convenience store. There was on shelving unit running down the middle of the store and a couple of freezers and coolers against the wall. It was a place to buy milk or eggs when you ran out and didn't want to make the drive to Hiawatha or Horton. A woman was at the checkout counter "scooping" ice cream out of a square cardboard container with a fork. I stepped up and asked for an ice cream cone as well. I asked her, "How much?". She said she was asking for 50 cents but that people had been giving her a dollar. I told her I'd give her a dollar if she piled my cone high. She asked me to hold the box while she dug with the fork.
I sat on the curb and ate my ice cream. I chatted with others who had stopped and watched riders go on by. I didn't expect it and it seemed an unlikely place, but this was my moment. When I think back on BAK 2008, this is the moment I'll remember first: eating ice cream on the curb of a bucolic little town no one ever travels to. I think this is the real joy of riding the BAK, encountering these moments, however fleeting, when everything feels right with the world and you can just be in that moment and nothing else intrudes. These moments are blessings to be savored and remembered.

Thursday - Washington to Sabetha

The BAK followed Hwy 36 for much of the route this year. As we got farther east the traffic increased. That often meant hugging the 18" of asphalt to the right of the white line as traffic whizzed by a few feet away. Some drivers don't even bother to move to the far side of the lane, so you have to pay attention. This resulted in less looking at the sights unless I pulled over and stopped.
Marysville was the first town, 22 miles distant. I planned to stop there and see a few things of interest. A youth group had an ice cream sale and I stopped for a bowl. It was home made and very good. I stopped at the Pony Express museum. It was poorly done and not worth the time nor the $3. The Koester house was my next stop. The yard is a beautiful sanctuary filled with statues and featuring a fountain. The house is a Victorian style filled with period antiques and decorations. In the back, by the carriage house, I found an old bicycle. The brake worked by pulling a lever that pushed a rod down on the front tire. I saw another museum as I rode out of town, but I had 50 more miles to go and had to pass it up.
Lunch was in Seneca, another 25 miles away. The winds and hills took their toll and I started to bonk about 6 miles from town. I pulled out a ziploc bag of trail mix and ate most of it. That gave me enough energy to go on. There was pie for sale on the west edge of town. I decided to eat dessert first. Further into town a civic group had bierocks for sale. I had 2 and was still hungry. Vallentinos pizza was next door so I went to the buffet and had 4 slices of pizza, a chicken breast and mashed potatoes and gravy. I was finally satiated.
Sabetha, our overnight stop, had music and food downtown. They blocked off the streets and shuttled us from the school. Again, I ate well. I burn about 3600 calories a day, so whatever I eat is used up in a hurry. Some have said that this tour should be called "Eating Across Kansas".

Wednesday - Beloit to Washington

Our modern lifestyle insulates us from the effects of nature. My travel journal last year was filled with entries about the terrain and the wind. Driving a car, these are not big factors. But when you are self-propelled, these become front and center in your life.
We had wind in camp at Beloit. It blew dad & mom's tent hard enough to snap one of the fiberglass poles. I'm glad Jay had a backup tent. It was smaller, but we were able to keep dad & mom from having to sleep in the car. We moved the Expedition and the trailer to provide a bit of a wind break and watched as a thunderstorm skirted by off to the south.
The wind blew hard all night and was still blowing in the morning. We faced our longest day of riding: 84 miles. Our first leg went north to Jewell, so riding with a 30 mph tailwind was a breeze. I was glad to see a woman selling cinnamon rolls at the edge of town. I hadn't eaten enough breakfast so was hungry. I ate two. We turned east and everyone struggled with the wind. Our lunch stop was 65 miles out, so I made sure to stop at the SAGs and eat. I also had trail mix and jerky with me.
Lots of people SAGed in after a few miles of facing the wind and the hills. Vans and trailers stuffed with bikes passed me on the road. I realized the wind had less effect on me when late in the afternoon I was passing people. I rarely pass people. But the wind wore everyone down so they were riding slower than me.
I arrived at Washington to find a note on dad & mom's car saying that we were advised to all sleep in the gym. There were storms coming with hail and damaging winds. These were the storms that brought tornadoes to Manhattan and Chapman. Dad and mom had secured a place for us on the gym floor.
After dinner we went to the parking lot to eat the pie and dad & mom had purchased that afternoon. As we sat in our chairs enjoying the strawberry/rhubarb pie, some of the boy scout troop came with a box of pie slices, selling the leftovers from dinner. He walked up to our group and said, "Do you want to buy some pie?" We told him we already had pie. Josh told him it was strawberry/rhubarb. The boy replied, "Wow! That's a lot better than what we've got. All we have is apple and cherry." We all had a good laugh.

Tuesday - Smith Center to Beloit

Our lunch stop was in Cawker City, home of the largest ball of sisal twine in the world. Other cities have balls of rubber bands, yarn or string, but Cawker City has bailing twine. Frank Stoeber's effort to save his scraps of twine back in 1953 has become the central attraction for the town. Businesses are named along with the twine theme. But when I hit town I was more interested in the quality and quantity of food to be found there.
I passed by Jay Bird's Chicken & RV Park on the way into town. It looked like a dive, so I asked a pair of riders exiting whether the food was good. They said it was. I stated my intent to ride on into town and see what else was there. They informed me they had done the same thing.
I parked my bike next to a 6' plywood sign with a painted on chicken that looked a lot like Foghorn Leghorn. As I entered the building I was sure the health inspectors in Johnson county would never allow such a place to operate. It wasn't dirty, but a back window had been put in and the 2x4 studs were never covered over with sheetrock. On my right was a wall about shoulder high. I looked over and directly below were chicken pieces sitting in a tub and covered with breading. A man about my age ran the cash register and cooked and took care of filling the salad and food bar in the 12 x 16 dining room. A young man worked the grill. They both handled the pressure well. Of course, we were used to waiting. We often overwhelm small town businesses who aren't used to the kind of crowd the BAK brings.
The fryer was bubbling with hot oil and full of chicken. The owner informed us that white meat was 20 minutes from being done. Several of us told him we would wait. We stood off to the side and talked among ourselves and with the new people coming in the door. Finally our white meat was cooked and we received just the chicken on our plates. We had to serve ourselves the side dishes of green beans, mashed potatoes & gravy. It was the tastiest lunch I had the whole week.

Norton to Smith Center

Every so often the perfect day comes along. It was 53 degrees when I woke up this morning at 4:30 a.m. The wind was light from the west. I hit the road shortly after sunrise and quickly decided that I needed another layer. I went back for a long sleeve cotton tee shirt.
Before I knew it my odometer said 4.5 miles. The tailwind was pushing me along. The hills were easy, and the downhills seemed longer than the uphills. The soft light of the morning sun gave a glow to the hills, trees and valleys. After a few miles of hills, Highway 36 came alongside a railroad track and was level for 15 miles. All of us breezed along with little effort.
I realized I was going to roll into Phillipsburg waaay before lunchtime, so I stopped often and took pictures and enjoyed the beauty of the land.
Phillipsburg is known as the cow/calf capital of the world. They have a lot of cow/calf pairs in that area. I didn't particularly notice any in the fields, but they say that this is true. At the west edge of town is a museum and reconstruction of Fort Bissell. The fort was a stockade built by the townspeople to be a sanctuary in case of Indian attacks. It was not a military fort. The buldings were filled with historical artifacts. I was surprised that all of their displays were just laying on tables and touchable. I picked up some items to get a better look.
I tried unsuccessfully to find a place in town offering the Phillipsburger, a special hamburger recipe shared among the restaurants in town. Several church groups had set up food stands in the square on the courthouse lawn.
The afternoon grew warm with the sun beating down in a cloudless sky. I rode into Smith Center by 2:30, set up my tent and enjoyed an adult beverage.

State Line to Norton

We arrived at St. Francis in the late afternoon. After unpacking the trailer, unloading the bikes, and setting up tents, it was evening by the time we headed out to the Colorado border, 12 miles away (according to the map). Jay Maske and his family are with us and sharing expenses for the transportation. All of us figured on an hour trip out and back and so didn't think more than a bottle or two of water would be needed. We didn't count on the uphill climb all the way to the border, nor the headwinds. By the time we reached the border--14 miles by our odometers--we were almost out of water. At least the ride back was downhill. But after a few miles we found that we were in the zone old folks talk about that is uphill both ways. I was pedaling uphill and looked in my rear view mirror and it appeared it was uphill in that direction as well. We laughed, nursed our remaining water, and rode on. We rolled into town and found a Pizza Hut and chowed down.
The first two days of the BAK we settled quickly into the normal routine: ride, eat, ride, eat, eat, sleep. I'm making new acquaitnences and seeing friends from last year. Atwood and Oberlin have interesting museums. It has been nice having dad and mom drive our trailer to haul our gear. Last year we were all at a 2-bag limit.
It's interesting to see how the towns we visit react to all of us. Most of them don't realized the impact 800 people have when we roll into a town of 1200. We are like locusts. We come, eat everything in sight and then move on to the next town. Some of the restaraunts have handled the crush calmly. Others have been quite frazzled. Pictures, stats and more details will come after the ride is over. I'll post more updates as time permits.

Glossary of BAK terms

I hope to be able to keep this blog up to date as I ride the BAK this year. For the non-bicycle touring readers I've included the following definitions of terms :

bent – a contracted form used to refer to a recumbent bicycle. Riders of bents are called “bent riders”. This term is an oxymoron, however, because “bent riders” ride in a reclining position while riders of upright bicycles (DF or diamond frame) ride bent over.

bonk – to run out of energy. This condition usually happens from lack of carbs when the body runs out of fuel. It is similar to marathon runners’ experience of “hitting the wall”.

Canus Chaseus - a small dog only interested in trying to bite your tires or any dog you can outrun. Not to be confused with the Canus Biteus which is a dog fast enough to catch you and wants a piece of your leg.

captain – the lead rider of a tandem bicycle.

century – riding 100 miles in a single day.

chamois butter – also called “bum butter”. A salve used to help DF riders cope with the chafing of their “bum” on the saddle.

cleats – special shoes with metal inserts to snap into clipless pedals. Cleats and clipless pedals lock a cyclists foot to the pedal enabling him to pull up as well as push down. The foot is unlocked by twisting the heel to the side.

clipless pedals – special pedals made to lock in bike shoes with cleats.

cold – the water that comes from the showers.

crash – falling to the ground while riding your bicycle. Opinions vary as to what constitutes a crash. Most agree that any road rash, bleeding, or bruising as a result of falling is a pretty good indication that you did in fact crash. However, if you fall while barely moving and don’t have any marks to prove it, you probably didn’t experience a crash.

DF – abbreviation for a “diamond frame” or “upright” bicycle.

drafting – riding close behind a rider or group of riders so that they break the wind, allowing you to maintain the same speed as the lead rider with much less effort. To accomplish a good draft you must ride with your front tire about 12" behind the rear tire of the rider in front.

flat – a word non-Kansans use to describe Kansas if they haven’t ridden a bicycle across it. Flat is what Kansas residents use to describe a bike tire with no air.

gym rats – people who sleep in the school gymnasium.

hot shower – a mythical legend told by long-time BAK riders. Some veterans claim to actually have experienced one of these, but the claims have never been proven.

overnight town – town where BAK spends the night.

paceline – riders riding in a tight line so that the person in the lead provides a “pull” or a “draft” for the riders behind. Air resistance is the greatest barrier to speed for a bicycle, so riders in a paceline expend less energy and go faster. The members of the paceline usually take turns “pulling”. The disadvantage for riding in a paceline for the BAK is that you only get to see the rear tire and butt of the person in front of you.

pie – premium fuel for all BAK riders.

pulling – taking the lead to break the wind and provide a “draft” for a rider or riders behind.

railroad tracks – if you don’t ride across perpendicular to the rails, see “crash”.

Rashus Ouchem - the pain that one experiences for many days when one does not wash all the soap out of their riding shorts.

saddle – what a rider of a DF bicycle sits on.

SAG – rest stop where you can get water and snacks. The most common explanation is that it means “support and gear”, but it could originate from the posture of tired riders when they dismount their bicycles.

SAG in – to ride the SAG wagon to the next overnight town.

SAG wagon – vehicle that picks up riders who are unable to go on because of being too tired, injured or experiencing mechanical breakdowns.

seat – that the rider of a bent bicycle reclines on.

stoker – the rear position on a tandem bicycle: also called rear engine, rear admiral, she who must be obeyed.

tent city – what the green space around the school or community center in the overnight town becomes.

toe clips – bicycle pedals that have a plastic or metal bail allowing the riders toe to be held to the pedal, allowing him to pull up as well as push down. Not as effective as clipless pedals and cleats.

wheat field – large restroom facility. This definition applies to any field of tall crops.

wind – air moving from Missouri to Colorado. Not to be confused with “tailwind” which is air moving toward Missouri.