Trail of Tears (OK, really smiles)

TOP: Paper moose along the roadside in Montana. They also had paper moose, paper bears, and paper dick cheney's
BOTTOM: the "princess plate" at the 3 forks diner...this single pancake was about 1.5 feet across. The king plate was 3 of them. Really
x
We started the drive back southward and got as far as Great Falls on friday night. After yet another good meal...ok, it was a really sucky meal, half of us at a carnival food court, and the other half at a crappy mexican place with no liquor license (THAT should be illegal...refrieds without margaritas) we bed down at the only RV park with space (due to the Montana State Fair being in process). Not so good move on our part, as the "park" was bordered by the state fairground with the carnival going on all night long, a mainline quad train track with coal trains going by all night, and a freeway. It was about 130 decibels, and we didn't get a wink of sleep.
x
We headed off saturday morning towards salt lake city, where we were dropping off karen, ben, and gill for their flights home (they all had to work monday am), while cliff, jerry, john and I returned the RV back to phoenix. Now, I have to say, there's NOTHING more interesting than, oh, 24 straight hours being locked in an RV, at 60mph on a 90mph highway, with Cliff and John discussing the wonders of the universe. I tried 3 times to jump out of the vehicle, and jerry, just locked himself in the shower stall. We stopped at Diamond Lill's casino and burlesque parlor in salt lake for dinner; nothing more humorous than a mormon attempt at vice. The women had on overalls for their burlesque wear, the casino's only took tokens and gave out stuffed angels as prizes, and you could only get 3.2 beer...and that after buying a "membership" in the casino social club. Who thinks these things up anyways? Give me Las Vegas...or at least Elliot Spitzer's house. Lumpy like vice...
x
We drop off the east coast bound crew, and continue onward to phoenix. Jerry takes point and belts out a surprisingly good version of "Jesus, take the wheel". Way better than cliff singing that jazz crap. We get down to the arizona border, and get our first rain of the entire trip; a massive, drenching monsoon that lasts for hours, further slowing our progress. We finally make cliff's house late sunday evening, clean out the RV, break down and pack for shipping all the bikes, drink a beer, and pass out exhausted.
x
It was a great trip, and along with my fellow riders, we have many people to thank. Just a few:

- Steve, Irene, Lauren, and Tyler for putting up john and me in phoenix for our prep work
- Posh, Flash, Lauren and Scott for sharing their home with us in Grand Junction.
- The hell's angel biker who tracked down Karen on the Yellowstone climb
- All the waitresses who took pitty on us and brought us extra-large servings along the way
- The border crossing guard who "let gill back from the other side"
- and, last but not least, Val for putting up with our crap everywhere in her house

Thanks to everyone, and thanks for another outstanding "Lumpy Birthday Adventure"
x
"Going to let the butt heal now" Lumpy out

Oh! Canada!

TOP: Canada, here we come. Figuratively of course, except for the case of Gill

2nd: Gill negotiating to get back "into the country"...she's now known as a "dryback"

3rd: You'd have thunk that this sign would have given her a clue, but nooooo

4th: Karen and Marco on the final run to the border. Note Karen pummeling him, while eating a banana, and singing barry manilow jingles. He really needs to train next time

x

As this is our last available day (everyone has work and air travel to get to by monday am), and we're still 300+ miles away from the border, we elected to split into 2 groups rather than have to ride late into the darkness on the dark, deserted, border roads. Group A is going to do the near end of the ride, and group B is going to drive to about half way, and start there. That way, we'll still do every mile of the route, just in parallel instead of serially. We take off hammering down the road singing U2's "streets have no name", basically the state anthem of montana. Montana topographically at this longitude if basically a long series of rolling, descending downhills for about 150 miles to the headwaters of the misouri river, and then 150 miles of ascending rollers up to the border. Foolishly, my crew takes the uphill.

x

The missouri was beautiful as we crossed it at Fort Benton. A lone cyclist came and met us, and turns out he was the "water administrator" for the whole region. We talked for some time, and agreed to do a kayak trip out there one of these years along the lewis and clark trail, and the wild section of the missouri river. Sounds awesome, and it's in the "Lumpy queue" now!

x

We cross the river, leap out of the RV, and start the climb out; meanwhile, the A crew is hammering the road to the river, with Gump, Festus, and Karen leading the way. They're on a mission, pushed by Cliff, to get to the river, and then chase us down before we get to the border. We, meanwhile, are hammering also, trying to see if we can make the border before they catch us. It's a race to the finish, and our average speed is way up today....lower elevation, good legs, good lungs, the end in sight, and a race unfolding (ED NOTE: Did I fail to mention that Marco took yet another wrong turn near Great Falls!). We're nearing the border, about 10 miles away, and off in the distance we see the RV bearing down at about 100mph on a farm road. Gill puts down and start riding with all she's got. The RV catches her at about 3 miles to the border, pats her on her butt, and pulls over a couple of miles ahead alongside us. We're waiting for her to get to us so we can all do the last mile together. And waiting. And waiting. Finally, Jerry sees her in the distance, walking her bike up a hill. She had flatted, had used her last tube, and had no communications to get to us. We went back and got put Karen on the road, and picked gill up. Karen was flying towards the border when Marco decides he has to go chase her (again, like Yellowstone wasn't enough) and takes off like a madman. We pull up to Karen and tell her the situation, and she starts sprinting to the border. John catches her, but then she whumps him and makes the border first. Girl power!

x

Meanwhile, in what would become the story of the trip, the rest of us are waiting at the border crossing, a non-descript building in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Gill decides that she's going to go get a picture of the US...from canada...and promptly walks through the no-man's land into that foreign land. She's taking her picture when the canadian border guard runs out and is about to arrest her for entering the country without declararation. She explains the situation, that she was just taking a picture and had no intention to stay, and he relaxes. Then, when she tries to go back into the US, the canadian guard stops her again, and tells her that she has to get in queue behind the 4 vehicles for her exit declaration. So, she gets in line and waits her turn.

x

Meanwhile, back in the motherland, the US border guard comes out of his booth and "informs" us that the border crossing closes at 5, and she'll be arrested if she tries to enter the country past that time...now again, picture this, it's basically a hut in the middle of an endless cornfield, but hey, homeland security is on our side! We ask him what we can do, and he says straight faced "might want to throw her over a sleeping bag, it gets pretty cold in that cornfield at night". Gill meanwhile is behind a truck loaded with farm products and mexican farmworkers, and the canadian authorities are giving them a going over big time. The clock ticks on down toward 5:00, and she's still waiting, has no clue that the US border is closing in 5 minutes, and we have no way to contact her. Meanwhile, the US border guards are packing up their belongings and closing up the outpost for the evening.

x

She finally gets through canadian customs, and starts walking towards the US. We're screaming at her..."run, gill run"...she's waving back at us, again clueless as to the situation. It was like something out of an "I love lucy" show...and Gill promptly morphed into Lucy. As she gets closer, she finally picks up on our screams, and starts running towards us. I won't go into what a vision that was, and in her defense we did destroy all photo's of the event. She gets to the border at 5:01, as the guard is just locking up the door...civil service worker, 5:00 friday, off to bowl or pick corn or something. She starts pleading with him, and he takes pitty on her, and has to (I swear) call into HQ in washington DC to get approval to stay open 5 minutes late and allow re-entry to a US citizen. He gets the approval to stay open, and asks her for her papers (passport and license)...none of which she has of course, as she just basically jumped off the bike, grabbed her camera, and strode across the border. OK, NOW we've got an international incident. Some blonde CLAIMING to be a US citizen, with no papers, coming across the border in middle-of-a-freakin'-cornfield montana, at 5:01 on a friday evening. She was probably smuggling gatorade powder in a butt condom or something. Major situation, and he has to call into washington DC yet again to ask what to do. Of course, it's now 7pm on a friday night in washington DC, and nobody even answers the phone there, as they're all out celebrating "Sara Palin Day" (kinda like April Fool's day, without the april).

x

Finally, he just gives up, say "just go through", locks up the outpost, and heads on off into cornville. We are elated, have a hearty laugh, take some border shots, and start the long drive back to phoenix.

x

"Glad I stayed in the US" Lumpy out

Jackson Ain't No Hole!

TOP: "Arnold of the Tetons" in full regalia

2nd: Cliff, Lumpy, Gill with Teton Lake in background. Note that my stomach is bigger than cliff's whole body

3rd: Benjie in front of the "Grand Teton"

x

We arrived in Jackson, found another campground (this one the worst KOA in history, we'd have been better off staying in the Wal-Mart parking lot with our fellow RV'ers), cleaned up, and headed into Jackson for dinner. We found an incredible game restaurant (The Gun Barrel, check it our if you're ever there), where we partook in delicacies like moose chops, elk stew, caribou steaks, and buffalo prime rib. The food was incredible, and after a week of protein deficient diet, we put on a show that was worth filming for the biggest loser.

x

Sunrise came quickly, and Karen, John, Ben (now named Gump, after Forest for his meandering biking style) and Jerry headed out at sunrise for the massive climb up through the Teton mountains, and then over the Continental Divide, not once, not twice, but THREE times up in Yellowstone. The rest of us slept in and found a pancake house; clearly we were famished after that measly dinner the night before.

x

The road crew is cycling through Tetons, and they put Karen down for the big climb, with plans to get her in about 20 minutes up the climb. They wait a couple of minutes, and when they go to start the car, they can't get it out of park again. They work on it, rocking the car, turning it on and off, trying everything, to the point where the battery finally dies. So, here's Karen, climbing this mountain solo, with no hope of pickup, and no way to contact anybody...did I mention that neither our cell phones nor our radios worked here? After about an hour of mucking with the car, John decides to take off after her, as he's the best climber of the 3. He loads up with water (probably doubling his meager weight), and starts riding. He comes upon a hells angel motorcyclist taking pictures along the roadside, stops and tells him our story, and asks him to track down Karen and tell her what is going on. I only WISH that I had a picture of that exchange. Then, he rides a bit further, comes upon an older couple stopped taking pictures, and does the same with them.

x

Meanwhile, Karen just keeps on climbing...out of food and water, but slogging along up the mountain nevertheless. Incredibly, the hells angel motorcyclist flags her down, tells her the story, tries to strap her on his bike as his bitch, and then carries onward. She decides at this point that she might as well keep riding until she gets to the summit. Good move on her part, as it allow John to chase her for another hour or two...he really needed the work. Then, the older couple flags her down with an update. And who said pony express was dead!

x

Hours later, Cliff, Gill and I come through with the RV, completely miss seeing jerry waiting roadside with the broken down car, and are driving the RV up the mountain at our usual 5mph...windy curves and tourists stopped for pix everywhere. We get to the summit, and who do we come upon but Karen hanging out roadside. OK, this is interesting....she tells us the story, and we then go off in search of John, who by this point we figure is lost again and probably somewhere in Manitoba. We track him down, and discuss options.

x

It looks like the best option to keep forward progress if for us to put cliff on the road (remember, we're at the top of the continental divide at this point), let him ride the mountain down for "a while", while we go back and try to resolve the car situation. So, we load him up with water and powerbars, and send him on his way with orders to "call us when you get to montana". Really.

x

We go back, muck with the car for a while, and thanks to benjie's incredible mechanical prowess (why don't you just jump it from the RV?) we get it going. John and I decide to drive it to Bozeman, MT (the nearest real city) and trade it in, while the rest of the crew chased down cliff in the RV, and then rotated through the rest of the day. Good plan; tough execution.

x

Turns out that it's kinda-sorta really difficult to make any progress through Yellowstone on a summer afternoon. As in 10mph for hours kinda progress. It takes us almost the whole day to get to Bozeman, and meanwhile the RV is plodding along through the park for hours upon end. They finally get out of the park at the Montana state line, and still no cliff. Finally they get a call from him; he's 110 miles away from the start, still riding downhill, with no end in sight. They speed up and reel him in, but not before he's ridden basically a 130 miles downhill!!!! Oh woe is me, if anything ever called my name...

x

They rotate through the evening, arriving at "freakin'-nowhere" montana and bed down for the night. Meanwhile, John and I have swapped cars, and are chasing them down...chasing, as in 120mph on a montana farm road, at dusk. Ok, maybe not our brightest move. I'm alternating watching the GPS so I can tell him road curvature, and looking roadside for animals. He's hunched over like he's riding a supercross race (john used to be an off-road motorcycle racer). Suddenly, a fawn comes bounding across the road, and we brake heavily, just missing it. That brings us back to reality, and we leisurely coast into freakin'-nowhere and rendezvous with the crew a couple of hours after sunset. A beer never tasted so good.

x

"death by deer" lumpy out

Flame On! : Flaming Gorge Northward

TOP: A portable tattoo parlor we passed along the way. Gill of course wanted to add to her "tramp stamp". She was going to get a giant eagle across her butt such that the wings would flap when she ran. Unfortunately, the RV couldn't stock that much ink, so she had to pass.

BOTTOM: Sunset over flaming gorge.

x

Flaming Gorge was an incredible downhill, and luckily, I had the road when we got to it. It had something like 25 switchbacks, and a several thousand foot drop. While I was unable to set a new speed record due to the curviness, I just hammered the downhill; it was over an hour ride, and just incredible. Following us in the RV, Karen, Ben, and several of the others got out and did the downhill themselves, so incredible was it.

x

We finally rendezvous'd at a lovely KOA (read: hot showers and a pool!) and after a good meal, bedded down for the night. The next morning, I had the sunrise pull, and headed off solo about an hour or two before my sag was supposed to switch me. I'm cycling along the rim of the Flaming Gorge, watching the reservoir and the sunrise, and, low and behold, a huge buck comes up alongside me, looks me over, and then proceeds to run alongside me, for maybe a mile or so. It was incredible, he wasn't spooked at all, basically just wanted to see if he could be "more deer" than me. I was hammering, he was loping along. Very, very cool.

x

We were heading to Jackson, WY today, and expected a rough ride. It was a much narrower road, more traffic headed up to Yellowstone, and lot's of truck traffic from the WY energy firms...oil tankers, coal trucks, etc. We made Green River easily, but when we got there, the connector road that was supposed to allow us to bypass I-80 for the 10 miles to Rock Springs was nothing but a rocky creekbed. I guess it would be a road if you were on a mountain bike, or an ATV, but not on a road bike. We went and scoped out I-80 (you're legally allowed to ride on some interstates out in the west), but it was under heavy construction, down to one lane, and really not safe for a cyclist. So, we made the executive decision to pickup our rider, drive I-80 due east, and put her back down (it was Karen on the road). Discretion is the better part of valor.

x

Anyhow, we put Karen back on-road in Rock Springs, just in time for the winds to pickup. So, here she is, all 120 lbs of her (ED NOTE: You owe me for writing this without comment...), with a 30mph headwind, minimal shoulder, big tractor trailers flying by at 80-90mph (oh, did I mention the speed limit on this secondary road was 75mph), just plugging along. Yeoman's effort for that leg!

x

We slugged through the day, headed towards Jackson, where we knew we'd get a good meal and scenery. It was so bad that on one pull, John had us feeding him advil out the SUV window to minimize the brain pain! During the afternoon, we started having problems with the SUV (our sag wagon, a toyota highlander hybrid), where it wouldn't come out of park easily. We chalked it up to rental car trauma, and kept slogging along. That would come back to haunt us....

x

"At least we didn't meet the green river killer" Lumpy out

MEX-CDA Bike Relay Resumption: Douglas Pass downhill

TOP: Karen begging for water...or maybe she just saw another flagman

2nd: Jerry ascending near Flaming Gorge. Checkout the road ribbon off in the distance

3rd: Overview for atop Flaming Gorge. A stunning vista and downhill into the reservoir.

4th: Believe it or not, we were in Dinosaur, CO when we came upon this fine piece of Americana.

x

Well, Cliff and Karen finally crested Douglas Pass, and the downhill was a doozy. We were still chasing (if you can call it that at 10mph) in the RV, and they were descending at 50mph. (NOTE: STILL....not breaking my trip speed record I might add...). Hours later, and hours after we were supposed to rendezvous, we finally caught up to them, just outside the town of Dinosaur, CO.

x

Now, you're probably thinking, why the heck is a town called dinosaur? It's apparently a combination of the dino bones found there, and the progressiveness of the town. I can only compare it to Roswell, NM with their alien stuff, except tackier. Pink dino's everywhere, dino bar, dino hotel, dino used car sales, etc. John "Marco Polo" Coble had the road as we cycled through Dinosaur, and, true to his namesake, he blew yet another turn and ended up on Route road-to-absolutely-freakin'-nowhere southbound. You think that would have been a clue (as we were headed to Canada), but noooooo, he just put the hammer down and sprinted for miles. Good average speed though, even if it was in the OPPOSITE DIRECTION of where we were headed. Not finding his switchover rider, he finally stopped for a beer and waited until the sag was able to track him down. We're now going to make him wear one of those prisoner GPS alert thingees so we can track him.

x

Meanwhile, I put down on the northbound road and started the next monster climb. It was a doozy, and given my climbing prowess, I figured it would be 2-3 days before I'd get all the way to the top. I had good legs that day though, and made a pretty good ride of it. A hour or two later the group finally caught up, marco in tow, and switched me off just before the summit. I think Cliff was behind this, as he didn't want me to get a monster summit when he didn't get one. I'm taking credit for mine however, as measured by pounds per vertical foot.

x

I would be remiss if I didn't make note of a fascinating US phenomema..the Wal-Mart RV park. Seems that nearly every wal-mart we cycled past had dozens of RV's in the parking lot. Apparently, there is a whole cult of people who sell off their houses, buy an RV, and just drive around the country staying in wal-mart parking lots. This was utterly fascinating to me, and I can't wait to get there when I finally retire. Imagine, a greeter every morning, and cheap chinese goods. What more can you ask for!

x

"Alpe de Huez's got nutin' on me" Lumpy out

Back To Blogging...

Hi All,
Well, I'm getting back to blogging today, now that all the funeral stuff is done, and life slowly returning to normal, such as that is. I'm going to pickup with the conclusion of the Mexico-Canada Bike Relay, then Kathy and my Montana road trip, then my Sierra Hike, with a few day events thrown in, like my 50th birthday party, and just yesterday, our Hemlock Lake kayak adventure. Hope you continue to enjoy the stories, and so, on with the show...
Lumpy out

Mrs O Funeral Stories

Well, we've gotten through the funeral week for Mrs O. It was a really tough one for Kathy, Mary, and the rest of the family, but she's unquestionably in a better place now, whatever you think that place to be. A couple of quick funeral stories though...
x
Story 1: Kathy and Mary go over to her apt to get some clothes for the mortician. They pick out an outfit, and also get her shoes, glasses, and false teeth. On the way out of the apartment, Mary picks up an bag of donuts that Mrs O had in the apartment that were getting stale. They walk out, and Mary holds all the stuff while Kathy locks up the apartment. As they walk down the hall, Mary goes over to the dumpster chute and throws the donuts away.
x
They get to the mortician, and out comes...her glasses, her shoes, and a bag of week old donuts. Guess who threw the WRONG BAG down the dumpster chute? Hope Mrs O doesn't have to chew any licorice where she's at...
x
Story 2: The morning of the funeral, as Kathy and I are lying in bed in a state of exhaustion, her cell phone rings. She perks up, and says "That's my mother's ringtone". We look at each other in a state of utter confusion. "Well", I say, "I don't think it's her calling".
x
Turns out Kathy's brother had taken her cell phone to use for the day, as he didn't have one.
x
"Little Orphan-in-law Lumpy" out

Sept 13: Mrs. O Heads Off Into the Sunset

Mrs. O with Granddaughter Joanna

Sorry for the delay in catching up on the blog, been a tough couple of weeks. When I got back from the Sierra hiking trip, Kathy's mom (Mrs O) was in hospital ICU. After a couple of week there, she died peacefully this morning, accompanied by her immediate family. She is survived by 2 sisters, 5 kids, 1 grandkid, numerous other relatives, and many friends. She was a long-time resident of Dunn Towers Senior complex, and lived independent until her recent hospitalization.

x

I'll post funeral arrangements once they are finalized tomorrow. Rest in Peace

“May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.”