Fueled by burritos and solar power.
I set off from San Diego toward Alaska two weeks before the summer solstice. The long summer days are a big improvement over the short winter days I experienced toward the end of the last leg of this tour. I’m averaging 85 miles per day (137 km) even with headwinds and 3300’ (1000 m) of …
I find myself wondering why I’m seeing so many California license plates and then I remember I’m almost in California. Right. I’ve left Route 66 and I’m navigating my own way across the desert to Joshua Tree National Park. Just before I begin a 90 mile stretch of desert with no water and no services, …
I arrived in San Diego on December 10. I'm just behind on posting updates. "Bicycle Route 66" across Arizona is mostly Interstate 40 with few opportunities to get away from the busy road. This suits me just fine as I can focus on covering longer daily distances and get to lower elevations before colder weather …
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 …
SOLAR ebike 