Fueled by burritos and solar power.
I cross the state line from Texas to New Mexico. Little baby mesas give way to big mommy and daddy mesas. Mask-wearing is suddenly a thing again. I check a map I downloaded earlier and sure enough, New Mexico is my first blue state in a while. This should never have been allowed to become …
In Shamrock, Texas, the infrequently-seen “chip seal” road surface becomes an extra-hellish variant. Texas loves chip seal roads. That’s where you spray the road with gunk left over after refining crude oil, throw a bunch of rocks on top of it and congratulate yourself on having saved 80% over doing a proper road paving job. …
I meet a cyclist who moved from California to Oklahoma. When asked how the locals treat her, she doesn’t seem to understand why I’m asking the question. I guess it’s not a problem here. In Steinbeck’s “The Grapes of Wrath”, an Oklahoma family travels to California on Highway 66 to start a new life. Almost …
“Did you go over the rainbow bridge?” “Um, I think so?” “Did you stop at the little store in Riverton?” Was I supposed to? “I think I missed that.” Mater, from the Cars movie, is Route 66-shaming me and I’m loving it. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I put no effort …
I cross the Mississippi for the last time and find myself in Hannibal, Missouri, home of the Mark Twain Boyhood Home, Mark Twain Memorial Lighthouse, Mark Twain Cave & Campground, Mark Twain Commemorative Pothole… Missouri is a non-stop roller coaster ride with constant, short, steep hills up to 13% grade. I’m grateful to have sunny …
A head pops out of a passing vehicle and screams, “Tax fucking all scum, doob!” in my general direction. A cannabis policy recommendation? Am I being insulted? My cold-addled neurons finish rearranging the phonemes and I get “That’s fucking awesome, dude!” The head is commenting on the bike. I flash a smile and a wave. …
I’m so tired of everything being smothered with cheese. I’ve been eating at roadside establishments more often lately just to get indoors to warm up. The touch of local color is great but every menu for the past week goes, “beef, chicken, beef, pork, beef, Greasy Grilled Cheese Sandwich.” Imagine my relief to find this …
I cross the St. Croix River into Prescott, Wisconsin. The ACA route has me following the east bank of the Mississippi for the next three days and it looks like I won’t be crossing back into Minnesota. I seize the opportunity to collect my selfie with the Welcome to Minnesota sign that I didn’t get …
I stop to fix my third flat tire of the trip. This time it’s a slow leak caused by a thin wire in the front tire. Not bad for 2300 miles (3700 km). I have another 3000 miles (4800 km) ahead of me so I’m nearing the midpoint of my tour. I’m heading to St. …
I’m off bike trails and back on rural roads again. Seeing a lot of huge lawns being mowed on riding mowers… oh, right, today is Sunday. The days of the week have become irrelevant. The smell of freshly cut grass reminds me of my first paying jobs when I was twelve, cutting much smaller lawns …
SOLAR ebike 