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36.8 miles. Maximum 21 mph, rating: 7 Map
Had breakfast with Mike at the Bake Haus in downtown Torrington. The pancakes were plenty filling. At noon, we were not yet hungry.
Mike caught up with us on the road in Nebraska, where he shot us with a telephoto lens.
There were headwinds even with our 6 AM start, but Jacky drafted after a while, and we got to Gering at 10 AM. I can see why Scott’s Bluff was a pioneer landmark – pretty striking. We visited Jacky’s parents. Called Doris and got their address and directions to find them when we get to Ottawa.
A reporter from the Gering newspaper interviewed and photographed us. She came to see us at the motel, and brought three grandchildren along. While we were talking, the kids prowled around and discovered a small snake in the crack between the steps and the building. I had a look at it; it wasn’t a rattler. Grandmother ordered the kids away from the area. I didn’t tell the motel people or anyone else about the snake because I didn’t want it killed.
Went into Scottsbluff to have two rolls of film developed. The car was an antique boat, automatic transmission, non-adjustable bench seat, badly worn steering. I got stuck driving the thing (out-fumbled again!), and crawled down the street driving like a little old codger. Now I understand why old people drive old cars the way they do: they have to. I sure was glad we didn’t have far to go.
56.62 miles, 5:35. Maximum 22 mph, rating: 6
Riding to Alliance was fairly slow because of the wind. We had rollers and headwinds as long as we were going east, becoming a crossing tailwind when we turned north. Better than a 10 mph average for the day! Jacky set an excellent pace all day – I pulled for a while into the headwind.
Jacky’s father said there was a terrible hill at Angora. We watched for it, kept wondering where it was. We decided later that it must have been the little grade we both ascended without our granny gears. Nebraska hills!
Yesterday, I didn’t get hungry at all because of pancakes at Torrington. Today, I had an egg and sausages and toast and cereal, and I was still hungry.
My sister Marian lives east of downtown Alliance. Chuck (the younger of Marian’s kids) was in the front yard as we rode up. Before I was off the bike, he was telling me about the things that needed fixed on James’ bike. So I spent a while doing whatever I could (less than it really needed) on James’ bike, then Chuck’s bike, then Marian’s bike. James is really into trick bikes.
Marian fed us pork steak, devilled eggs, and potatoes and gravy for ‘dinner.’ Then the boys went to see Batman, while we watched the ABC show on the finish of the Tour de France. A terrific win by Lemond! We were lots faster – or at least lots more enthusiastic – the next day. Jacky sunned and talked to the neighbor kids – Rachel and her brother and cousin.
The condom story
The kids had all kinds of questions. They wanted to know whether we had a bicycle built for two. We said yes; they didn’t understand why we weren’t riding that, rather than separate bikes. Coming to the obvious conclusion, one of them asked whether we intended to sell our condom.
While Marian struggled to suppress her laughter, I explained quite seriously that condoms have practically no resale value, especially after having been used several times.
Marian took us all to Bridgeport. We played, wandered and lazed amid several sandpit lakes, then pigged out on two large pizzas.
We spread the sleeping bags on the living room floor. Hardest surface yet. The yard would have been more comfortable, but the price was right.
58.60 miles, 4:30. Maximum 40 mph, rating: 8
Marian baked muffins, fried sausages, and fed us melon. Chuck got up to say goodbye, and Marian rode with us to the edge of town. We had a strong tailwind and made good time. I think this is the first time we’ve really exploited a tailwind, with 14-18 mph uphills.
A combine (that’s COM-bine) caravan was stopped by the road. I stopped to ask if I could help. Woman in the lead pickup locked her door as I came up, then cautiously rolled down her window to talk with me. I must be pretty frightening. Turned out they had broken something, they were fixing it themselves, and they were frustrated because they wanted to be in North Dakota by nightfall.
Three miles north of Alliance we came upon Carhenge (also here and even better, here). The town fathers are debating whether to condemn it as an eyesore, or whether to play it up as a tourist attraction. When Marian told us about it, I imagined fading paint, rust, and old tires, but after seeing it, I vote to make it a tourist attraction.
Another mile north was a farm on which we saw llamas, buffalo, and peafowl, one of which was a cock in full display. A front end loader was dumping loose powdery food of some kind into a pigpen, and the pigs were getting directly under the bucket, covered with the stuff.
Fast riding when we were going north, till we got to the Box Butte monument. Then we turned west, and it was harder. So were the rolling hills after we headed north again. Once we got to Dawes county and the Pine Ridge, it was downhill and very fast. Also pretty.
The geography of the region is very obvious – coming off the Table, the transition to the Pine Ridge forest. Buttes, hills...my mind is totally boggled that I could have lived here for years, driven past it dozens of times, and never seen it before. Some really pretty country around Chadron state park.
Chadron seems fairly lively. There are a lot of buildings and a golf course out where there used to be just open country. We stayed with my mother. A woman from the Chadron Record interviewed and photographed us, but there was so much going on that she didn’t get much. Pat and Mark dropped in. Helen and Earl came down from Whitney. Busy day.
Halo polishing
We mentioned our stops to read historical markers. Helen said she could see that our haloes were well-polished. Whenever we stopped to read a marker after that, we referred to it as halo-polishing.
103.13 miles. Maximum 26 mph, rating: 5
My mother was up before we were. Sausages for the third day in a row! When people want to serve a fancy breakfast in this part of the country, it’s sausage! Also cinnamon rolls. Got out about 6:15.
We decided to take US 20 across Nebraska. The wind was such that the parts of US 20 that trend north were easy, the others were not.
We stopped for a large cinnamon roll at Hay Springs. The counterman knew Mike’s family. His wife was off to Chadron to attend a class on Mari Sandoz. She was working on a sociology degree, following which she intended to study law in Washington state. His interest was to try to stimulate tourist interest in northwestern Nebraska. He told us the eagle feathers story.
Eagle feathers
The Indians used to hunt eagles for their plumage, but they didn’t kill the birds. The brave would hide under a pile of brush and branches, baited with a dead rabbit on top. When the eagle landed, he would reach up, grab it and pluck as many feathers as he could get, protected from the furious bird only by the brush.
No wonder they were called braves!
We stopped at Gordon about 11 for a nap in the park. An Indian couple came over to chat. The man said he had been riding freights for eight years. He said California and Wyoming weren’t bad places, and Nevada was easy to ride, but Utah was tough, and Grand Junction was impossible because a bull had been killed there. He said some conductors let the ’boes ride in the cabooses, where there’s coffee.
Wildlife count: I flushed a grouse. Several birds, woodpeckers, I think: red head, black body, white breast. The country is clearly sandhills, with a few fields and some trees here and there. It’s interesting to see blowouts on the hills. With rollers and the wind, we earned our beer.
Our original destination was Merriman, at 80+ miles. Got there about 3. Bought OJ, cheese, etc at a gas station and ate them at a miserable campsite. Decided to go on to Cody. Early in the day, we had had a headwind, but going northeast into Merriman on a new road, we had a good tailwind. We slowed way down going to Cody. Got there at 6:30. Had a pression at Paul’s Place, watched two or three innings of the softball game, went back to Paul’s Place for pizza and beer, and camped in the city park.
Un pression
Before we were even in the Sierra, we established a tradition of having a draft, or at least a bottled beer, at the end of the day, and drinking a toast. It was always easy to think of an achievement for the day, even if it was no more than survival. It was a bit of a disappointment when circumstances precluded our tradition.
Two people told us they had passed us during the day.
85.26 miles. Maximum 31, rating: 6
We heard kids playing in the park outside our tent last night. This morning, we woke to find our bananas missing. Breakfast was cookies, granny bars, raisins. Pretty fast riding. Passed three small towns and lots of construction.
A woman in a car stopped us two miles east of Kilgore and invited us to her place for breakfast. But we hate backtracking and declined. She was disappointed, suggested we might like a couple hours of lazing around watching TV, whatever!
10:30 AM: Entered the central time zone west of Valentine. Had a real breakfast, pancakes and cereal. Lori, the waitress, wrote “Have a nice trip” on the check. We found a grocery store and stocked up on bananas, etc.
The Niobrara valley is surprisingly picturesque. There’s water, hills, grass, green, even a few trees. This is exceptional in Nebraska.
Turned southeast – tough going from Valentine to Ainsworth. We made a root beer stop at Johnstown, where the city park has a time capsule and a notebook for visitors to sign. We wrote a note about our journey.
We’re spending tonight at Ainsworth. It was a hard day, with cross and head winds, and bad roads. Coming into Ainsworth reminds me of the area around Lincoln, near Seward. Fields, trees, green – it also reminds me of coming out of the desert in Utah. Just crossing a boundary from the Empty Quarter into the Breadbasket?
Jacky got her first flat, a small piece of glass in the rear tire. We repaired it surgically, exposing the intestine without removing the wheel from the bike or removing the tire from the wheel. On a loaded touring bike, it’s a real nuisance to do it ‘right.’
We were advised to skip South Dakota. The Indian reservations are boring, and not necessarily safe for palefaces. Some turkeys in a red pickup threw water at us – first (but not quite the last) assholes of trip. Nebraska isn’t totally safe either.
Left the motel at 7 to find a restaurant ‘immediately.’ Not much to find. At 8:15, we were back at the steak house next to the motel – excellent prime rib, baked potatoes.
66.81 miles. Maximum 26 mph, rating: 7
Got a late start (7:40) because of the time zone change. We ate cottage cheese and devilled ham on crackers in the motel room. We rode fast to Bassett (17 miles) and had drinks and muffins. Going through counties quickly – Cherry, Brown, Rock, Holt. No adventures on the road today. There was little wind, and we made good time. Very fast: 2:09 for 32 miles! Stopped around 11 in Stuart to check out the museum – they didn’t open till 1.
This is Nebraska’s airport symbol. I don’t know that I’d want to land a jetliner on a grass strip…
We had lunch at Atkinson. A codger there was impressed with our venture. Should have ordered the special (fried chicken) – sandwiches and salad took longer. Stopped an hour or so later at a rest stop in Emmet and napped a bit. Got to O’Neill about 2 PM.
Because the last two days were hard, we called it quits at O’Neill. We were stopped by Dick H as we rode into town. He’s from Olivia, Minnesota, here in his capacity as marketing director of a seed company. He also has a radio show, and had cycled cross country himself two years ago with an American Lung Association group, Seattle to Atlantic City.
He interviewed us for his radio show, and took a picture he said he’d submit to the Olivia newspaper. He gave us a business card and invited us to call if we came through Olivia. We also discussed routes through Minnesota, all of which, strangely enough, included Olivia.
Vegetation along the road: alfalfa (a clover?), yellow clover, purple clover, bindweed, sunflowers, black-eyed susans, bachelors’ buttons, grasses. Very few Mexican sandburrs, somewhat to my surprise. My childhood memories of Nebraska include vast and profuse quantities of sandburrs.
After laundry and stretching, we stopped at Valentino’s and had their pizza and pasta buffet (cherry pizza for dessert). Dumped off the clothes and walked downtown. Even though it was Thursday evening, everything except the Mexican restaurant was closed. The movie theater display said “see you at the drive-in.”
We spent some time at the library. I browsed through Wild Towns of the West. It had some really interesting anecdotes about towns where we’ve been, and other towns we’ve heard about.
71.79 miles. Maximum 26 mph, rating: 6
The road goes southeast from O’Neill for 13 miles. I drafted Dave and we went fairly quickly. We had a late start – 7:40 again. Still trying to adapt to central time. Stopped in Orchard at a city park rest stop, and ate bananas and dried apricots. A lady from across the street came over and asked about the trip. She had moved to Orchard from Denver a year ago. Said she had often wondered about doing such a trip.
Chose Plainview for lunch (Dave still thought he needed breakfast). Went off the highway to downtown, where we found a nondescript ‘pizza and ice cream’ shop – one of very few businesses not closed down. It proved to be very nice – newly renovated – lots of congratulatory flowers. They had Mexican food too. Not quite Cal-Mex, but close.
Just as we did yesterday, we crossed four counties today.
There was a front going through. Most of the morning we rode under a band of cloud stretching from northwest to southeast.
They run short of names out here: we crossed the east branch of the north fork of the Elkhorn river.
A slow day. We started out with the idea of camping at Laurel, but at Randolph we stopped in the park for raisins and water. Dave said he didn’t want to camp without a shower, so I suggested we stay here instead of taking a chance on Laurel.
The local cop also ran the motel – actually, his wife ran it, but she was away somewhere, so he was trying to keep track of things. He had to phone her to check on which rooms were available. When we got there, the water was turned off while a plumber worked on the pipes, so we didn’t get a shower until later.
We walked to the city swimming pool, bought groceries, had a beer. By then, the hot water was back on at the motel, so we showered and returned downtown to eat bad fried chicken and cold pie at Jean’s dinette. Great people watching.
