Day 61: Uh where was that park? (Rock Island to Coal Hollow)

We awoke to weather straight out of a Disney movie, little bird squawking on our window sill to cerulean skies dotted with puffs of white. It was also five AM so I shut the window on the little bigger, closed the blinds, and went back sleep for a few hours. 

Steve made us giant, thick pancakes with fresh fruit, syrup (yes Log Cabin and yes I do still love it's divinely manufactured sweetness), and a side of farm fresh eggs. Our bikes stayed at the shop last night so we hopped in the truck to go pick'em up (this ain't no walk for science after all). 

Steve loaded us up with some free hats, socks and shorts, so freshly attired, we set off for.. somewhere between the Mississippi and the Indiana state border. 

You can't see the ducks swimming down the trail but they're there. Also leeches and dead worms.  

Of course, a blue-sky day would be replete without a vigorous headwind and bike trails literally flooded by a river. (Illinois please ship some of this H2O to your brethren out west, thank you). After the Cedar River Trail, we had been looking forward to the Grand Illinois Trail as respite from the traffic and pavement, but the record rains pretty much assured we'd be slogging through mud and gravel. So we hung out on hwy 6, the forever uphill of westerly winds leaving me high and dry. After two nights of minimal sleep and with our detour making the route longer than planned, I had to call it - no way was I going to make it 85 some miles to Peru. We decided to end our day 10 miles early at the Myer Woods Nature Preserve, which was a good call I think given it was already dusk when we got there.

Wait got where? The nature preserve was just that - all nature, no trails or even cut brush to allow us to pull out bikes in and set up camp. Luckily, a guy named Brian was cleaning his pool out, his the only home within 2 miles of us at that point. He offered to let us camp in his yard, and introduced us to his wife and two kids. We're really lucky, and really, really thankful. (Turns out there is another Myers Park down the road where camping is allowed, so when I'd googled places we could stay, info about that one came up. Woops.)

We made curry and actually saw some stars (!! for the second or third time on this trip? We're getting aced by the weather, always cloudy with rain on the horizon. Rain was on the horizon but we were forgiven for an hour or so). My sleeping pad is kaputt but this family had the best grass I've ever slept on, and I turned in before Rachel, and dozed. 

Day 60: Short End of the Rainstick (Wildcat Den to Rock Island)

We just can't catch a break on this weather. Since Idaho, we've been dragging thunderstorms across the U.S., heck, we even got rained on in the desert in Oregon.

The day started out sunny enough, but heavy with the humidity. Just a couple miles out of the state park, I saw the Mississippi for the first time! Magnificent. So much history flowed down that river. (Samuel Clemens' chosen name, Mark Twain, hails from his steamboat days - means the water was 12 feet deep, good enough for the boat). 

After I gaped for a while, sweating out a liter of water as my body struggled to acclimate to the might-as-well-have-been-Louisiana weather, I headed for Davenport to run some errands. We were trying to make 70 some miles to Hennepin Canal State Park, off the Grand Illinois trail. Theoretically, the trail (made of the Hennepin canal trail and the I&M canal trail) would run us almost all the way to La Porte.

Hwy 22 out of wildcat was more of the same: beat up road with no shoulder. I did stop to take a quick dip in the aforementioned river at an RV camp spot down the road. But for the most part it was industrial with heavy truck traffic. Eventually I turned down Utah Ave to get on a frontage road that took me into town on emptier roads and bike paths. Clearly, the Mississippi had overflowed the night before, the roadways were soaked, the ditches pools for fishes.

The Quad Cities straddle the river, two on the Illinois side and two on Iowa's, bridges criss-crossing every few miles. The bike-friendly bridge is this car/railroad bridge made out of blackened steel, and it rattles and squeals as you ride across it, the rushing waters of the Mississippi visible through the crosshatching below your tires. Sadly, Illinois didn't welcome us with any kind of sign, so Rachel made one up. 

Rachel's been plagued with flats, so I went to Bike n Hike for an extra tube and was subsequently adopted. The guys working the shop kept brining their customers in back and challenging them to lift my bike with all my gear. I maxed out their scales when they tried to weigh it. They kept remarking about what a "mighty small lass" I was.. And while I know they meant it as nothing but admiration, and they were nothing but good to us, it's still a little shocking that it's such a surprise to people that we are capable of this trip. Or surprise isn't really the right word, unexpected maybe, as in, this is something they rarely ever encounter. And obviously there aren't an enormous number of people cycling across the county, and Rachel and I still haven't run into any other women doing it but, what am I trying to say. Maybe that I am a little bummed it's so unexpected.

Anyways, the owner of the shop offered to let me use his truck to pick up groceries etc while they looked my bike over and wheooo pickups are fun to drive. Closest you get to feeling like Godzilla. I went to the Hyvee and it took me an hour to go shopping because the store is like half a mile long. It takes fifteen minutes just to walk down an aisle.

By the time I returned, Rachel had arrived and it began to rain. And then we opened the back door 10 minutes later and there were sheets of water pounding down at a good 45 degree angle. We weren't going anywhere.

Steve, the shop owners, offered us dinner and a bed at his place and we gladly took him up on the offer. We hung around the shop for the rest of the day then headed back with him.

His grandson Noah greeted us, a 6.5 year old ball of adorable precociousness. Kid has the most remarkable memory for detail. Watch out for him. 

After a delicious chicken and veggie dinner, some laundry and some conversation, we headed to bed a little too late and ready for some decent weather tomorrow. 

​

Day 59: Cedar Rapids to Wildcat Den State Park

A couple of things about Iowa: 

1. Every Iowan checks to make sure other Iowans have been nice to you like, "Hey where are you going?" <explain etc> "Well that's just great! You've liked Iowa right? The people you've met have been great, right?" Verbatim x 12. Like there is peer pressure to be a Good Samaritan because there is going to be massive collective Iowan shame if you aren't. But hey, everyone's truly been unfailingly kind so I never know what to say other than "Yes everyone here seems like they'd pull out their own kidney if I needed it, please, no need to fret about your brethren."The niceness is kind of freaky but let us all strive to more like Iowans and hold our fellow citizens accountable for immense generosity of heart and home.
2. Despite it being the most bike-enthusiastic state we've been in: no roads have paved shoulders; county roads are fabulous; city road suck.
3. There might not be sports but there is RAGBRAI.

Anyways, this morning, we ate a fabulous, nerdy pancake breakfast with our couchsurfing host Sarah, big thick pancakes browned on the griddle. Her Log Cabin syrup brought me back to my bottling days in the UCLA cafeteria. Actually I really never need to go back there again.

Post apocalypse industry in Cedar Rapids 

Going into detail about our route today since Google kept trying to put us on gravel so read on if you're interested, or feel free to skip ahead if you're not.

We didn't leave 'til late and it's hot every day now. We were able to take the Cedar River Trail out about 10 miles to Ely before ending up on some classic no-shoulder Iowa highways (Ely Road/W6E/hwy #?). Pro-tip: stay on that road and follow it to Solon. We stopped at the Big Grove Brewery for a sip and some lunch for Rachel and spent like an hour and a half there. We took 1 down to the turnoff to Morse, and then took Morse road into town. We couldn't find a way to get to West Branch without gravel but maybe you can. At least it's hard packed and short (2 miles, maybe 3). The Herbert Hoover trail is this great, overgrown crushed limestone trail that is surprisingly easy to ride. Take F40/290th to 38, then bear left and follow 38 over 80 until you get to Hwy 6 or 155th street. Google's good from there, except definitely ride down to New Era road, which is paved and pleasant, if a little hilly. 

Herbert Hoover's trail; he might get someone to mow it

We didn't get into Wildcat State Park until it was almost dark. We've just started to get into firefly territory, and they'd float up out of the grass and out of the cornfields in the hazy dusk, lighting our way to the park. The camping area was one of the strange-ish open ones where all tent sites are right next to each other on the same meadow of lawn grass. They had fresh water, though, and good picnic tables, and fees were only $9 which seems like kind of a steal when you're from California. I tried to go tootlin' off to find Pine Creek but realized I'd have to go down a big hill to get there (aka I would have to climb it on the way back) and the skeeters were out in force so I turned back. I made a really mediocre tofu stir fry for dinner and prepped the tent for the predicted thunderstorms by hooking the tarp grommets onto the tent poles and tying the rest of it up via a couple pieces of cord.

We didn't go to bed 'til late but the thunderstorm came even later and it was a heavy metal kind of rain, endlessly pounding the tent and trees around us. My Big Agnes Air Core has been leaky for a while, but it totally gave out last night, so I slept-woke on the ground (soft, muddy, grassy ground, not bad) and ate a granola bar at 3 am to reflate my deflated spirits/reality.

I'd hoped to leave early to beat the heat a little and run some errands in Davenport but it poured like hell from 7 til 9 am, so much so it didn't make sense to leave. Eventually, though, the rain let up enough for it to get hot and sticky inside the tent and I couldn't take the claustrophobia anymore. I talked to Vince for a while, who's doing his own east-to-west trek (Chefs Fore Vets). He's averaging 35 miles a day and has 'til December and is trying to get on Jimmy Kimmel Live on December 7, so go forth, and tweet about and for(e) him.

Day 58: Pave America with bike trails (Cedar Falls to Cedar Rapids)

Woke up feeling fresh this morning, stomach seems to be all healed up. John made us Scottish oatmeal with raisins and vanilla almond milk with a touch of honey. Plus the best coffee we've had this trip. Well. I've had. Rachel's cutting her addiction loose and reverting to tea.

Goodbye goodbye!

Goodbye's are always bittersweet and this one especially so. Naomi and John took such good care of us, so that while this could have been an extraordinarily low couple of days, it wasn't. Instead it was a treat to spend an extra day in a house full of art, adventure, clean sheets and generous meals. But pedal on we must so off we went.

We rode bike trails along the Iowa river almost the whole way to Cedar Rapids. The first segment, to Waterloo, was all paved, green light filtering through the veil of cedars (I assume, I don't know trees) that bowed over the path. Every so often we caught a glimpse of the river, of an old man with a cap and his fishing rod, of a couple of happy kids out on boats. 

Construction blocked the bit of trail from Waterloo to Evanston, where we caught back up with it and rode an easy 20-something miles on a blacktop path through the riparian forest. The pavement gave way to gravel, then to dirt, sometimes totally grown over with grass, until 10 or 15 miles out from Cedar Rapids. Sometimes the mud got real sticky, catching the tires and making each pedal a slog. But for the most part, it was incredible to be off the road. One of the pieces of this trip I didn't really think through was that the best roads are often the most traveled.. or at least well traveled. So on a bike, we can only really access places you can access by car - until now. It looks like we're going to have trails almost clear to La Porte, Indiana, our next teaching spot. 

Day 56-57: In sickness and in health (Cedar Falls)

Again, we are so spoiled by the kind folks who take us in. Naomi and John whipped up some bacon and French toast (with real maple syrup) before we headed out to our sixth lesson at the Waterloo YWCA. 

The bike paths here are something else. Paved, but through forests and along rivers, we road 10 miles to the summer camp without cars for 9 of 'em. The kids at camp were restless but deeply curious. It was so fun to see them wake up and focus a little, as we started to talk about ourselves, our trip and our careers. It was raining (of course, we can't seem to catch a break with these lessons), but  the motors spun, and the back wheels spin weakly in the dimmed light outside. 

Favorite questions: does it hurt to eat GU packets; has anyone in your family been to space. Also it was really something to realize how small the world was to most of the kids. We asked them how far California was, and they responded with estimate between 5 and 30 miles. That's what really far away is for them.

After the class, we went back to Naomi and John's to try to get the ID thing sorted out. Took a break in the evening to check out the bike shop and Single Speed brewery (10/10, their IPA and their dark were both top notch). We went to their favorite Thai restaurant for dinner, then toured the university, where John teaches computer science. 

We packed up and were pretty much ready to go for the next morning. I was working on the blog in bed at 10 and had been feeling a little queasy. All of a sudden, it was like ten thousand little bugs trying to rip their way out of my stomach. Rachel had just told our hosts the story about what happened in the Alps: Rachel and I were backpacking around Mont Blanc and the one night we decided to camp, I woke up and threw up all over and in this pretty little French lodge. The next day we tried to go on but we ended up having to hitchhike to the nearest English-speaking doctor, two hours away. I was dehydrated and had a kidney infection, and it took another two days before I could hold down some noodles. That ended the trip quick. 

Anyways, Rachel had just told this story and I come out white as a sheet and then run to the bathroom. It was an ugly night, compounded by how scared I was I'd have an Alpian repeat. But I finally drifted off, and slept until 9 this morning, awoken by an appetite. We took it easy on food today, but so far I've kept everything down. Rachel kept on the hunt to replace her ID. We'll try for Cedar Rapids tomorrow. 

Day 55: When 50 miles seems easy (Iowa Falls to Cedar Falls)

Inches out of the sleeping bag at 9:12 and met Sherrie for coffee and the Coffee Attic. We are two breakfast sandwiches and gave an interview to the town paper too.

Then she took us on a tour of Iowa Falls: to the bike shop (home of the Super Tuned tuneup), Ricky T sr's garage (the Ricky's are not related) to see Sherrie and his decked out bicycles, stereo systems and all, the hospital to actually visit Ricky T, where Rachel got some advice about her knees, then finally back to Mark's house to pack up. Sherrie offered to drive most of our stuff to Rachel's family at Cedar Falls, so we only had to carry a few bags. We didn't leave until 1:30 but weren't worried cause 47 miles seemed breezy after yesterday. Or not breezy. We're just finally confident we can make it any distance 60 and under with no real difficulty, assured of our strength. It's a deep kind of comfort that we only just learned.

We had a headwind the whole way, but no detours. We even stopped for a road whiskey at Grumpy's in Ackley. We made it to Cedar Falls by 6:30 or 7, welcomed by Naomi and John, Rachel's dad's cousin and her husband. They cooked us an incredible meal of Iowa State Fair food (no deep fried butter, don't worry).

Then, while unpacking, Rachel realized she couldn't find either of her rain jackets, which had been tied to the back of the tent. Worse, her wallet was in one of the pockets. So we called in our Iowa Falls reinforcements, but, no luck. The jackets are gone, along with her wallet, so we're trying to figure out how to get her an ID. Turns out California is the only state that doesn't allow you to apply via mail, you have to go in in person. But she can't. Cause she's in Iowa. There's traveler IDs, but those require an itinerary, which we don't have, cause we're science vagabonds. And expedited passports take forever and also take you for all your worth. Any ideas?

Day 54: Iowa Falls aka magicwonderbikeland (Nemaha to Iowa Falls)

I used to find it impossible to get up early in the morning, the world soupy, thick and heavy, but that's shifted substantially in the last two years. Anjali started me a little at school, and in Davis, I'd get up before work to run because the summer days there are brutally hot. Now, on this trip, I love waking up at 6:30, getting out before 8. No flies, the air is cool and sweet, the sun's up but not fiery and there's nothing like putting 50 miles behind you before noon.

So I left Jim's place early, before Rachel woke up. And this splendid day rose before us and the tailwinds propelled us and there were those 50 miles by noon. I also don't do well with heat so I stopped for lunch in a cemetery (only place in Fort Dodge with shade on the way out). Rachel and I decided we could do 100 mile, our first century, so we plugged Iowa Falls into the GPS. Best decision ever.

It's this sweet little town that feels bigger than its 5200 residents. We figured we could camp in Assembly Park, which was right on the Iowa River without getting kicked out so long as we hid ourselves kind of well. Cooked up some lettuce wraps filled with kielbasa, quinoa, mushrooms and onions and basked in the glory of the evening and how easy the day felt despite the distance.

The evening was so warm, I decided to clean up in the river. I ran up the swinging bridge and down the road to the river, interrupting the migration of twelve mama gooses and their goslings. I wasn't sure if the river was safe.. It seemed a special kind of crazy that on such a gorgeous evening, there was no one else swimming in the river. So I flagged down a guy driving a boat and asked if the water was safe. He assured me it was. 

I jumped in with all my clothes on ... double duty, washing machines are few and far between. While I scrubbed off the thick cake of sweat, dirt, sunscreen and bug spray, the guy on the boat, Mark, docked his boat right there next to the shore. When he found out Rachel and I were cyclists, he called up his friend Sherrie. It was Tuesday and Tuesday's are bike nights in Iowa falls. She's loud and blonde, Mark said, you're gonna love her. 

Rachel's in there somewhere 

Sherrie was awesome and kind of adopted us for the night. She took us to Alden, where the cyclists were grabbing some brews before heading back. And the first song Burchfield plays when we arrive is Wait So Long by Trampled by Turtles! I went crazy like always; that was a good introduction.

Anyways, we stayed there for a while, then Sherrie drove us back to town to meet Mark, Chow neè Kevin and Ricky T jr at Woody's, where Rachel was proposed to and then had the world's second worst beer (the first can be found on tap in Sundance). Old Legion: don't do it. 

We ran outside at midnight to look for the ISS but it was too bright, or we got the time wrong. As the night wound down, Ricky T convinced Mark to take us out on his boat on the river. And out there you could see the stars. We've had the universe stolen from us by weather for the last two months so to finally see them speckled up there was, well, kind of magical. Mark got a call from a guy in England about an engine failure in a commercial airplane we could see flashing in the sky from the deck of the boat. Turns out he's a machine genius.

We didn't end up camping in the park today, we slept on the couch in Mark's basement which is the most classic man cave I've ever had the opportunity to invade. The plane was fine, made it safe all the way across the nation. Now we just have to do that.

​

Day 52: Three states, one rainy day (Yankton to Sioux City)

Well we didn't end up in Oz but it stormed all night long, rain and winds pounding our sturdy (new and improved!) tent. 

Today, South Dakota finally lived up to my preconceptions: it was flat. Flatland. Flat as a frying pan. 

We had decent weather - had a tailwind! - most of the way. I got real hungry near Vermillion and stopped at the Hyvee, the Safeway equivalent, for a sandwich and a mango. Funny how set in your ways you get. Like the shelves were organized differently here than in a Safeway, the fruit was stacked differently, even the way the pharmacy was set up. Anyways I sat in the cafe and destroyed the mango, juice dripping everywhere. Definitely earned some stares with this one. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do. 

We ran into another tourer, Brad, there too (seriously we find'em in the strangest places). He had just caught up with the Lewis and Clark trail in Sioux City. I didn't talk to him long because I was very focused on that coffee and those calories.

It started to drizzle, then pour, as we left Vermillion until we were maybe 20 miles from the destination. My case isn't really waterproof anymore so I just stick the phone in my jacket's back pocket. The temperature stayed around 70 though and the water was warm so the riding was still pretty easy. I chewed a whole pack of gum in 10 minutes like I always do. 

When I crossed the bridge into Iowa, Rachel was heading back across it. She couldn't find the state sign.. And we never did find any notice. So we maneuvered to the interstate and took a solid selfie there. From there, we had planned on riding five miles through Nebraska (man, no other state has taken the kind of shit this state gets. Singularly, every person we talked to told us not to go) but some friends of our warm showers host for the night spotted us and invited us out for beer. We happily obliged. Buffalo Alice ("BA's") is highly recommended. Plus Adam, the bartender and also a biker, fed us from his unlimited supply of tootsie rolls. Rachel ordered a pizza (girl finally got her cheese) and we rode south to Tom's house. He grilled up some awesome pork burgers and we talked with his wife Mandy and listened to his adorable son Jackson bang stuff together in his room. 

Completely worn out from the night before, sleep came almost instantly. 

Day 51: Teach a (wo)man to fish

Number one goal for the trip accomplished today! I learned out to filet a fish. Steve, the guy from the thoroughbred motel in white River, took me out to the Gavin's dam and I caught a bass and a blue gill. Two points for the foot-long collapsible Spider-Man fishing rod made for a theee-year old. 

Let the bass drop (Steve made me kiss it before we threw it back in) 

I was kind of surprised the blood didn't bother me at all. There wasn't much of it, to be sure, but yup, felt nothing except that I wish I'd had a lemon and some hot coals to cook it on.

It's hot in South Dakota, or its hot now that it's June. Finished up The Ghost Brigades by John Scalzi splayed out on the rent-a-towel in temperamental shade at the KOA while Rachel hit up the town (hair cut + froyo). Yeah the whole world is good - post-humans get off this planet and find intelligent species and need an army to defend the race from the Galaxy. Most of the soldiers are old people who volunteer for the army and get their minds transferred to younger, suppler bodies in exchange. An interesting way to get around war destroying a generation of young men/women eh. Anyways some good ethics debated in this and the previous one. Whaddya think, real space travel in our lifetimes? A girl can dream.

And we finally got out ribs this evening and shit they were good. If you're planning on a cross-country road trip, I highly recommend you planning it around barbecue. We stood in line for the first place winners and devoured juicy ribs lathered in sauce, I coulda drank that. I kind of did. 

We ended with deep fried cookie dough of course, and then booked it back to the campgrounds even though Rachel had a flat cause thunderstorm and tornado warnings started appearing in our inboxes. We were going to sleep in the laundry room but eh it's 11 and looks like the storm has passed. Tent is still standing and we stand by it.

Day 50: Take us to the ribfest (Missouri to Yankton)

Woke up and still had the whole Missouri to ourselves. I made it through the night curled easy in my hammock.

They promised us flatlands! South Dakota isn't flat. Spent the day endlessly pedaling up and riding down the hills of the Yankton reservation. We have a lot of miscellaneous food from when my mom was here so we didn't really eat whole lunches so much as snack. 

This week ended up housing both Rachel and my hardest ride - you heard about mine but today was hers, because she didn't sleep much and because we didn't eat much the night before. Lesson learned. Man and some days your shorts rub and by the end of it I was feeling rawww. 

The whole day we were excited about the Yankron ribfest. No better way to celebrate halfway than stuffing our stomachs full of Porky. We rolled into the KOA at 7:15 or whenever and showers and set up camp and we're halfway to passing out by the time we showed up at the park, we were so hungry. But the lights were all dark and the streets empty and the food smells week and it turns out they were setting up..  for tomorrow. 

Um yeah so we ended up at the yesterday cafe - themed 50s diner - and I got a bud light before my meatloaf arrived and anyways never felt like that after a bud before.

Steve showed up and we went to Walmart which I have been to more times on this trip than ever in my life. And just for now I'm allowing myself to ignore their worker compensation problems and local-business displacement ethics and say that that place is kind of a wonderland for us. I got a child-sized (me-sized) collapsible spiderman fishing rod cause I've been trying to find someone to teach me how to clean a fish this whole trip but s'pose I need to catch one first. 

What happened to Days 29-47?

Hey everyone, 

so we know we're real behind on this blog, but as we enter our last month on the road, we really want you to be able to follow along live. We'll get these inbetweener posts up, I promise. In the meantime, here's a quick recap of how we got from Boise (day 29) to South Dakota (day 48): 

From Boise, we headed east, lost our tent, raced past craters of the moon, got a new one, visited the first nuclear plant to produce power, then headed for the Tetons. 

We chowed on some amazing hamburgers in Victor (still in Idaho) before crossing the state border into Wyoming, over the insanely steep Teton Pass. It hailed at the top and we just about froze on the way down. We thawed in Jackson for a few days, then headed to the actual Tetons, which were magnificent in a way that words will never do them justice. Out of the park, we ran into, and then from, a grizzly. After a Louisiana barbecue, we headed to Casper to teach at our fifth school. I subbed for a pro football player at career day. My mom flew in to hang out with us for a week, during which we crossed into South Dakota and saw the Wind Caves, Mt Rushmore, and Crazy Horse. Out of Rapid City, we entered the Badlands and saw lightning dance silently a hundred miles in the distance. Then we learned South Dakota isn't flat. We ran into Steve in White River, who took us on a tour of his family's ranch, which meant we got up close and personal with some adorable baby buffalo. That pretty much gets us to day 48, mom's last day in town. Read the dailies for the details. 

So glad you're joining us for this journey, and we promise these posts will be up soon!

Adventure on,

Elizabeth