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A Bike Trip Across the heartland... |
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Written by Donovan Henderson
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Wednesday, 26 April 2006 |
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Page 1 of 2 The grain elevator of Syracuse, Kan., rose from wheat fields, blurred on the eastern horizon by the heat coming off of the asphalt of U.S. 50.
The southwestern Kansas town was only two miles away, but it just as well have been 200 miles. The elevator, a skyscraper of the prairie peppered at its base by trees and other small buildings, cut a slender white figure in the blue summer sky as it dominated the scene in front of me.
The town was giving me the finger.
Two miles.
It mocked me.
The 95-degree temperature scorched to at least 105 as I sat on the highway’s shoulder, bare to the abuse of the June sun. What wind there was came straight out of the east, a headwind that I cursed with all the energy I could muster.
The breeze offered no respite, only torment.
This was only Day No. 2 of what was to be my grand bicycle adventure across the heartland.
What was I thinking? 
In the annals of my life, in the chapter chronicling the stupidest things I’ve done, I knew this would be at the top (eclipsing my decision in fifth grade to use a sheet and some twine to parachute out of my friend’s treehouse).
Semitrucks flew by constantly. I was carrying more than 100 pounds of gear on my 15-year-old Mongoose mountain bike. And I had only three “training” rides that amounted to no more than 60 miles, total, to help me along.
But there I was, committed to this bold undertaking, dehydrated and struggling mightily for 30 miles in the 100-degree heat, with a flat front tire and a belly-full of doubt. I wasn’t sure I’d make it the next two miles, let alone the additional 1,100 miles I planned to ride from southeast Colorado to Beaver Dam, Wis., home of a high school friend.
With trembling hands, I fixed my flat tire, but not my internal quibbling.
What made me think I could do this? Why have I let my conditioning get so bad?
So many questions and no answers except for one: Give back the finger to that mocking grain elevator, put my butt on the saddle and pedal. One turn after another. Then another. Head down.
This got me to Syracuse, air conditioning, water and a bed to sleep in.
As a Coloradan living in the shadow of the Rockies, I’ve felt the lure to conquer a peak, to see what the world looks like at the top of God’s country. For me, it’s the challenge to push yourself beyond what you think you’re capable of. Sounds like a locker room poster, I know.
For a month and 1,200 miles, I wanted to pedal my way well passed what I thought I could. I figured I’d see the countryside from a perspective few get, and I hoped to make some new friends along the way.
After a needed day off in Syracuse (several more of those would come), I began making headway. On Day No. 7, June 26, 2005, I pedaled 102 miles between Scott City and Lacrosse. As I set up my tent in one of Lacrosse’s city parks, near the Kansas Barbed Wire Museum, the magical century (100 miles in a day) under my belt, I knew that, somehow, I’d make it.
THE PEOPLE
- Day No. 16: On July 5, breezing down a hill on U.S. 36 east of Seneca, in northeast Kansas, the pedals broke loose. Fifteen years of rust caught up with me. A dump-truck driver hauling gravel to a nearby railroad project offered me a ride back into town. Jim was sympathetic to my plight. Still a big guy, he had lost more than 100 pounds by riding his bike. He knew who could help me.
- Later on Day No. 16: At the Ace Hardware in Seneca, Mark works in the lawn-mower repair shop in the back, also occasionally servicing Huffy bikes, which the store sells. He spent two hours getting Huffy parts to fit on my bike and make sure my trip didn’t end there.
- Day No. 17: Taking a break on the shoulder of Highway 59 outside of Shenandoah, Iowa, Jenny Seyder pulled up in her pickup and asked me where I was headed. I told her, and just like that I had a place to stay and a dinner made mostly from her and her husband’s garden.
- Day No. 28: In Farley, Iowa, trying to find U.S. 20 after a back-road detour, I rode by a bar with about 30 bicycles parked outside. Spilling out of the bar were members of the Dubuque, Iowa, cycling club. They were on their final training ride before RAG BRAI (Register’s Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa), which was the last week in July. Members of the club escorted me back to Dubuque, paying for the beer along the way. Rob, a seasoned biker, put me up and fed me venison and pork chops.
- Day No. 31: On my final day riding, in Jefferson, Wis., I hit rain for only the second time in the trip. I took refuge in a driveway under some trees. The house’s owner saw me, told me to put my bike in the garage and come inside to wait out the storm. I learned a lot about his family in 20 minutes, including that his wife was in a nursing home recovering from a head injury she had sustained in an ATV accident.
THE PLACES
- I saw the world’s largest ball of twine in Cawker City, Kan.
- Travellers along I-70 are stuck with one solitary notion about Kansas — it’s flat. On a bicycle, you quickly discover that certain parts of Kansas are far from flat. The same is true of Iowa. Many days it was just one hill after another.
- I saw Big Head Todd and the Monsters perform a show at an amphitheater on the Des Moines River in Des Moines.
- They built it, and I went. The baseball field and farmhouse near Dyersville, Iowa, where “Field of Dreams” was filmed, is a tourist attraction. I ran the bases, stuck my head in the corn in the outfield, and sat on the bleachers where James Earl Jones gave THE speech. Very cool.
FINALLY, THE FINISH
I made it to Wisconsin energized, relieved and a little amazed. As I look at the map and get a full sense of how far I pedaled, I still get a chill.
I lost 15 pounds, survived five flats, one nasty cold, heat, humidity, a few close calls with passing semitrucks and my own self-doubt. In countless convenience stores and cafes, I was always asked the question, “Why?” Many wondered if I was riding for a cause. Others simply thought I was crazy.
I rode Amtrack back to southeast Colorado, getting glimpses of the same towns, the same towering grain elevators, that sent me on my way a month before. Instead of mocking me this time, they seemed to smile as I rattled by on the train. I smiled back.
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|  | "Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's first law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only truth." | |
|  | We're not that bright, even though in our own little world, we're geniuses. We like 80s hair bands and one-hit wonders, but among us we have respectable tastes, too. Metallica, Iron Maiden, U2. Pursuit of all things trivial is a lifestyle, not just a game. We like some sports, love other sports, and can find something to say about anything. We watch TV and movies and we've read a book or two, even a few classics (Yes, Classic Comics count!)
We call it insight, you call it what you will. | |
|  | Felix Wong is an outdoor enthusiast living in Fort Collins. A mechanical engineer by day, he is especially passionate about bicycling, running, and backpacking. | |
|  | Hola Amigos! I'm Sandra. I like to believe that people are 70 percent good and 30 percent dumb. I'm stickin to that story. Reading this blog might make you want to be good, but probably just dumb. | |
|  | Donovan Henderson is editor of NEXTnc. | |
|  | Here at Nextnc we have some characters. Get a sneak peak behind the curtain and find out what amusing antics our staffers get themselves into on a weekly basis. | |
|  | What is up FoCo?
I am a recent college graduate of Minnesota State University Moorhead. After recieving my B.A. in English and Mass Communications this past August I moved down to Colorado.
I enjoy long walks on the beach, candlelight dinners, and heavy metal. My hobbies include reading and writing, music, movies, and getting drunk. Some of my favorite contemporary authors include Bret Easton Ellis, Chuck Palahniuk, and Kurt Vonnegut. My top movies are anything directed by Kubrick. I enjoy listening to anything that rocks.
Right now I am just trying to get to know Colorado and FoCo better. Mostly in order to find the best drink specials on each day that ends in Y. So if you know where I can get a cheap drunk on, let me know!
--Drew | |
|  | Life's little morsels of inspiration, observation and encouragement seen through the eyes of the Nextnc reporter.
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|  | Ms. Giles currently lives in Colorado where she stars in her own private reality show. She writes aphoristic accounts of her life, taken completely out of context, and embellished with characters and situations disguised to resemble something close to interesting. | |
|  | over and out | |
| | My name is Michelle Turley and I'm 28 years old. I live in Severance with my hubbie, Brandon. We have 2 dogs and a cat. We enjoy camping, four-wheeling, and just being in the mountains. I like to cook, clean (go figure), flea market, and play poker. I have so much to say about poker... | |
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