Your Turn: What to Carry?

Figuring out what to carry on a cross-country trip may seem daunting, but it is probably the easiest thing to figure out and adjust as you go along. Every cross-country cyclist faces the tradeoff of carrying more gear and being better prepared for different situations or carrying less gear and traveling lighter and faster. Your personal budget and tolerance for roughing it will dictate that tradeoff.

Camping versus motels:
Unlike most cross-country cyclists, I did not carry any camping gear on my trip. In retrospect, carrying some rudimentary camping gear might not have been a bad idea; it allows you more flexibility to adjust your mileage. I made motel reservations in advance - usually by several weeks - and therefore had a schedule to keep. The distances between lodgings in the West will often dictate riding longer or shorter distances than you might otherwise want to. Moteling is significantly more expensive than camping, but does offer some comforts at the end of the day: a bed, air conditioned room, shower, and TV/wifi. However, given that you can always opt for a motel, the only reason not to carry camping gear is to reduce weight.

Equipment:
A good road bike is a prerequisite for any cross-country trip. Your bike will cover a lot of miles and take a beating; do not attempt a cross-country trip on $50 bike from Walmart. A decent bike shop will carry touring bikes designed for long-distance riding. These bikes are engineered to attach both front and rear panniers, use cantilever brakes which are stronger than caliper brakes on a road bike, and sport the gearing for climbing comfortably while carrying 40-50 pounds of gear.

However, instead of buying a touring bike, I purchased a road bike: Specialized Secteur Elite. With a carbon fork and stem, this bike is somewhat lighter than a touring bike but has attachment points for a rear rack. Road bikes are perfectly fine for a cross-country ride so long as you do not overweight the bike; the wheels are not designed for heavy duty touring. I carried all my gear in two waterproof Ortlieb rear panniers attached to a Topeak rear rack and rear trunk bag on top.

One thing to be aware of if using a road bike is that the gearing may not be right for getting up the various climbs you encounter. My rear cassette was originally a SRAM 12-26 and even in the lowest gear, I had a lot of trouble getting up the steep grades in Pennsylvania. In Bozeman, MT, I switched the cassette to a Shimano 12-30; the larger cog (30) in the back made it considerably easier to climb. Do something I did not do: ride your bike fully loaded several times before departing.

Technology and electronics:
A good smartphone will greatly enhance a cross-country journey. A smartphone is particularly useful for finding the distance to the next food/gas station options on the route, or finding an alternative route in suburban/urban settings. In some areas of the West, cell service becomes either spotty or unavailable. I went to the trouble (and expense) of renting a satellite phone, but, in retrospect, I would only carry a satellite phone if you are cycling in remote, untraveled areas like gravel trails out West or touring in remote areas like Alaska.

Another useful gadget is a GPS for mapping and navigation. I bought a Garmin Edge 800 and, before each day's ride, I loaded the course route. With the exception of bike trails, the route maps appeared up to date and easily directed me through residential roads and rural country roads.

Clothing and other gear:
On a cross-country journey, you will need to be prepared to cycle through all kinds of weather. A couple days in Pennsylvania had temperatures in the 40s while several days out West, temperatures peaked near 100 in the afternoon. Cold weather gear may be needed depending on when you leave, a waterproof rain jacket is a must, and sunscreen essential. I carried only sandals as footwear, shorts and a T-shirt to wear when not cycling to minimize weight. I also carried my MacBook Air cross country - a unnecessary but nice indulgence at minimal additional weight.

Getting chased down by a dog is something that most cyclists can attest to. Most of the time, owners would manage to stop their dogs from chasing after me, but I did encounter cross-country cyclists who had been either chased for awhile or had dogs try to bite them. Pepper spray is an option which I carried, but many cyclists just recommend using your water bottle to spray the dog or simply trying to outrun the dog.

Bike repair and maintenance:
Before leaving on my trip, I invested a fair amount of time learning how to address a variety of possible bike breakdowns. However, as it turned out, the only problem I encountered were a couple of flat tires. My friend Andrew got a flat on the open road, riding into Minneapolis, while my bike took a flat on a day off in Miles City, MT. Needless to say, knowing how to fix a flat is a must and very easy to learn and practice. My tires were puncture resistant hard case tires made by Bontrager or Specialized. I replaced my tires every 1200 miles, though this was probably overly conservative. A hand pump, tire levers, a multitool, and extra tubes are an absolute minimum for a cross-country ride.

Beyond flat tires, I also learned how to adjust the derailleurs (for smooth shifting), remove a cassette, replace broken spokes, and true a wheel. I carried extra spokes, a spoke wrench, and a cassette adaptor for replacing a broken spoke, but I did not carry a chain whip and wrench for removing the cassette on the rear wheel. You can continue to ride with a broken spoke though you risk permanently damaging the wheel.

Cross-country rides take their toll on the chain - regularly cleaning and lubricating the chain (especially after cycling in rain) will increase the chain life and reduce drag. However, it is probably prudent to replace the chain once during the trip. A chain tool and replacement pin should be part of your spare parts, especially for longer rides or rougher conditions.

Your Turn: Road Cycling Skills

Road cycling - especially on a cross-country journey - requires some comfort and experience with cycling on busy roads with fast-moving traffic. The most important preparations I made over the two years I planned this trip were getting used to cycling on roads in New York and its surroundings including a five-day trip from New York to Montreal.

Road conditions:
The truth is that a substantial fraction of a cross-country trip requires you to cycle on roads with fast-moving traffic. While intelligent routing can limit your exposure to high traffic areas, some 70% of your journey will require riding on two lane highways with a speed limit in excess of 60 mph. Rare will be extended periods on paved bike paths or residential streets.

The most important principle of road cycling is to treat your bike like a vehicle - never ride against traffic, obey lights and stop signs, and ride predictably as if you were driving a car. As a cyclist, you have full rights to use the highway (freeways and interstates are usually the exception where bikes are typically prohibited), but as a practical matter, you are expected to ride as far to the right as safe.

On highways, the vast majority of cars and trucks will pull over to the other lane to pass. However, the occasional driver will not, passing you quite closely. Holding a steady line will minimize any dangers from close passing traffic, though the experience may still be unnerving. Drivers deliberately running cyclists off the road is rare (and has never happened to me), but some other cross-country cyclists I met on this trip reported such incidents. In these cases, it's important to try to keep your bike straight on the grass or gravel off the road. A fully loaded bike is fairly stable, and unless you are traveling at high speed, you should be able to keep control.

Using the shoulder:
Roads with a generous shoulder are a cyclist's friend and form a de facto bike lane in many areas. Moreover,  the size of shoulder typically correlates with traffic volumes. Avoid riding too far to the right in the shoulder -  debris from the roadway including metal and glass pieces that cause flats accumulate there. On busy roads, rumble strips on the left side of the shoulder will naturally form a barrier between cars and cyclists.

On highways with narrow shoulders or otherwise rough road, you may be forced to ride on the white line or even ride inside the lane itself. Moreover rumble strips may force you to ride in the lane even if the highway has a narrow shoulder. Several stretches of US-12 in South Dakota featured these conditions. As long as you maintain visibility and ride predictably, riding inside the lane should not be a problem. It may inconvenience traffic that is forced to slow down, but as a cyclist, you are within your rights to take the lane. Indeed, in high traffic situations - in suburbs or on bridges - it may be best to move to the center of the lane and control traffic behind you.

At faster speeds in a tailwind or during a descent, ride further away from the road edge towards the lane. You are more likely to lose control if you ride off the road and injuries would be more severe.

In the end, riding on the highway with traffic is an act of faith. The likelihood of a sober driver running into a cyclist from behind on a clear day is minimal, but injuries would probably be severe in case of an accident. The vast majority of cycling accidents occur in urban areas at intersections.

Maintaining visibility:
On the open road during daytime and good weather, a cyclist will be fairly visible to cars from a distance. However, on highways, it is generally advisable to take further precautions to maintain visibility to drivers. I always wore bright colored clothing and, on the busiest roads, I typically wore a reflective yellow safety vest. My rain jackets were also brightly colored, and, in the rain, I attached a blinking red light to the back of my bike to improve visibility. I did not have to ride in foggy conditions or through heavy rain - in those conditions, it is advisable to wait for conditions to improve.

Riding the interstate:
Cycling on the interstate is not permitted in most states outside of the West and is certainly not advisable in suburban or urban areas. However, in many western states, the interstate may be your best (or only) option. I traveled on the interstate several times in Montana and Oregon and generally found the interstate to be easier to ride on than many highways. Shoulders are nearly always in excess of five feet and multiple lanes allow traffic to pass comfortably. Moreover, with a divided highway, oncoming trucks do not buffet you with a gust of headwind as they pass by (in contrast to a two-lane highway).

However, pay attention at on ramps and off ramps - as a cyclist, you take several seconds to cross the entrance/exit lane and cars may misjudge your speed. Also, shoulders on the interstate can narrow or disappear on bridges.

NB: This post and previous posts is merely intended to provide advice and impressions gathered in my time road cycling and during my cross-country journey. It should not be construed as advocating for cross-country cycling or declaring that road cycling is a safe activity. Road cycling carries considerable risks that must be weighed by any prospective cyclist.

Your Turn: Researching a Route

During my cross-country trip, many people I came across expressed an interest in someday embarking on their own long distance bike ride. I spent the better part of two years thinking about my trip and preparing for it - thinking about routes, developing road cycling skills, and accumulating the gear I would need. Over the next three posts, I will offer some thoughts on preparing for a cross-country ride.

Mapping a route:

Studying and thinking about your route is key for any cross-country ride. The vast majority of cross-country cyclists follow the routes designed by the Adventure Cycling Association. Their maps are well-researched and frequently updated based on the feedback they receive from cyclists. However, their routes carry a couple of disadvantages: they typically avoid major cities and their cross-country routes are not the most direct adding hundreds of miles to a cross-country journey.

Primarily in order to create the most direct transcontinental route, I designed my own route from New York to Miles City, MT before picking up the Lewis and Clark trail. Even after, I followed my own route for a couple days from Three Forks, MT to Lincoln, MT. 

I mapped these routes using the bike routes feature on Google maps, and then manually adjusting these maps to avoid finding myself on gravel roads or spending excessive time on gravel bike trails. The street view feature is invaluable for giving you a sense of the road traffic and size of the shoulder, and it's best to avoid selecting routes without street view. Beware that out West, Google bike routes will put you on dirt fire trails or logging roads to keep you off the Interstate, so each route needs to be studied carefully. All my routes are available online by clicking on the "Stage Summary" link at the end of each post.

Using bike trails:

In the East and around many cities, Google maps frequently puts you on dedicated bike trails. The city trails are often paved, but longer trails are either gravel, dirt or crushed limestone. As a road cyclist, I was initially leery of spending much time on these trails - it is much easier to lose control of your bike in ruts on these trails and increases rolling resistance. However, typically these trails are well maintained and suitable for a road bike. Moreover, rail trails have gentler gradients and are quiet and scenic. Traillink.com is a great resource for getting feedback from riders on whether a given trail is suitable for a road bike.

Which direction?

The great debate over traveling from east to west or west to east is unlikely to be resolved. It is certainly true that near the coasts prevailing winds blow west to east, and it is also true that a stiff headwind is more frustrating and dispiriting than heat or rain or cold or climbing. That said, either direction you travel, you will encounter both days with headwinds and days with tailwinds.

It's also worth noting that heading east often involves hours of cycling into the sun. Over my entire trip, I never needed sunglasses since I was cycling west and was finished in the afternoon. The glare from a rising sun probably makes it harder for traffic to see you in the mornings if you are traveling east.

River crossings:
Roadways typically narrow on bridges and otherwise comfortable shoulders may disappear when crossing a major river. In most large cities, many but not all river crossings will have a dedicated bike route. However, major river crossings outside of cities can be quite long and fairly narrow (see Astoria-Megler Bridge) Again, the street view feature of Google maps is fairly useful in determining the size of the shoulder and figuring out traffic volumes on the roadway.

Portlandia

After reaching the Pacific coast on Thursday in Astoria, I returned by bus to Portland on Friday to take in more of the sights of the city over the weekend. The Rose City lived up to its reputation as the land of bicycles, microbreweries, coffeehouses, and facial hair. In Portland, local stores remain dominant (save for the high number of Starbucks) with people buying their books at Powell's, not Amazon. With one of the highest concentration of restaurants per capita before even counting all the food trucks, Portland offers a compelling food scene as well.

The unofficial slogan of Portland

As luck would have it, I find myself in Portland at basically the best time of the year. With clear skies, high temperatures in 70s, and no humidity or rain, Portland felt like coastal California. I took advantage of this good weather to roam the Japanese gardens in Washington Park yesterday morning and explore North Portland today including a tour at the Widmer Brothers Brewery, home of America's first hefeweizen.

Sculpture in the Japanese garden in Washington Park

One of the ways Portland keeps itself weird is its fanatical support for the Portland Timbers - a soccer team that has recently joined the MLS. I managed to secure a ticket in the Timbers Army section of the sold out Jeld-Wen Arena to watch them take on the LA Galaxy. With a purple shirt and no Timber gear, I stuck out like a sore thumb in the Timbers fan section prompting me to run out and buy a Timber cap. Nevertheless, when I returned, the gig was up and the fans around me asked me if it was my first game and whether I knew anything about soccer. I gave them my story, and sensing the opportunity to recruit a new fan, these season fans generously gave me a Timbers scarf and a printout of the fan chants.

To the uninitiated, watching a soccer game in person is unlike watching any other professional sport in the US. If you are sitting in the fan section - the Timbers Army in my case - expect to stand the entire match and chant constantly with captains who spend the entire match facing the crowd and leading the chants and songs. A goal by the Timbers was celebrated by Timber Jim sawing off a section of pine with a chainsaw and lifting it like a scalp for the crowd. Needless to say, the atmosphere is like no other sporting event and has few equals, even in European club football. A second half stoppage time winner from a corner made the atmosphere that much more electric. I think I may have my MLS team.

Day 40: "O! the Joy"

Forty days and just shy of 3300 miles, my ride across America comes to an end at a haunting shipwreck on the Pacific coast. The anticipation of arriving at my final destination woke me up early this morning, and it turned out I needed every minute to make the trek from Portland to Astoria, OR and the coastline. Describing the moment as bittersweet might seem a bit trite, but the word seems appropriate. I am certainly happy to have traversed this distance without incident and eager to get back, but I will miss life out on the open road.

Western terminus at Fort Stevens, OR on the Pacific Ocean

Nature conspired today to make the final day of riding a bit more difficult than usual. A cool wind out of the northwest off the ocean grew steadily stronger as I zeroed in on the coast pushing me back east. The Columbia River Highway from Portland to Astoria is hardly a pleasant cycling route with several steep climbs and a fairly narrow shoulder amidst heavy traffic. Logging and allied industries ensure a steady stream of large truck traffic. Conditions were more favorable in terms of temperature - some brief morning cloud cover gave way to steady sunshine with the ocean breeze keeping temperatures no higher than the mid 60s.

Wreck of the Peter Iredale on the Oregon Coast

As the miles added up, the increasing wind and the widening river were the only clues that I was approaching the coast. Forests and hills kept the horizon close with a fresh scent of cedar from the procession of logging trucks. However, shortly after entering Astoria, the first scent of saltwater materialized, with a view of the broad estuary following shortly thereafter. Two hundred years earlier, Captain William Clark wrote in his journal, "Ocian in view! O! the joy," but still needed an additional three weeks to make it past the estuary to the ocean proper.

At the Pacific in front of the Iredale wreck

My first glimpse of the Pacific only came as I made my final turn into Fort Stevens Park. I carried my bike over the sand dunes as the Pacific looked brilliant in the afternoon sunshine. Built on the sight of an old military installation, the park seems to be a good place to experience the Oregon coast - the craggy outcroppings near the beach and the evergreen rainforest just inland. Wading in the cold water, I poured a small vial of Atlantic Ocean water that I had carried cross-country from Brighton Beach.

Recreation of Fort Clatsop, winter encampment of the Lewis and Clark expedition

With time running out to drop off my bike in Astoria for shipping and despite not stopping for lunch, I raced over to Fort Clatsop just five miles away from the coast. Here stands the site of Lewis and Clark's encampment where the Corps of Discovery spent the winter of 1805 where they hoped in vain to spot a clipper ship to avoid returning by land. I managed to survey the memorial and get back to Astoria to drop off my bike and some gear for shipping back to New York.

Sunset over the Pacific with Astoria-Megler Bridge in the background

So ends my transcontinental bike ride. In the coming days, I will add some additional posts with thoughts and advice for those contemplating their own trip. 

For now, some thanks are in order: I could not have done this without the support of those who cycled with me and visited me out on the road, often at great personal expense. I also want to offer a special thanks to my family who were not entirely comfortable with this endeavor but nonetheless supported me throughout the way.

STAGE SUMMARY:

Starting Point - Portland, OR

Ending Point - Fort Stevens, OR

Distance - 105.1 miles

Cumulative Distance - 3299.9 miles

Vertical Elevation - 4937 feet

Counties - Multnomah, Columbia, Clatsop, OR

Wind - moderate headwind

Day 39: The Gorge

On this penultimate day of my cross-country journey, Reed and I traversed the Columbia Gorge and cycled into Bike City, USA - Portland. Despite some fierce gust in the Gorge and some busy stretches on the interstate, much of the riding today was spectacular. Bike trails through temperate rain forests, climbs overlooking the Columbia River Valley, and riding past 500 foot waterfalls along the Historic Columbia River Highway were just some of the highlights.

Bridge of the Gods over the Columbia River

Cool winds blowing from the Pacific make the Gorge a particular windy location. The stiff west winds made hard going on the I-84 for the first 12 miles out of Hood River. A tourist town with plenty for outdoor enthusiasts, the windy conditions make Hood River known for its water sports including windsurfing and kitesurfing. Any evidence of the arid desert environment of the previous days had vanished as we cycled along forests and mossy cliff faces either side of the Columbia River.

Multnomah Falls along the Historic Columbia River Highway

At Cascade Locks near the Bonneville Dam, we stopped to admire the Bridge of the Gods - one of the more recently constructed crossings of the Columbia River. Right along the side of the road, we found blackberry bushes. Reed collected a handful of sufficiently ripe blackberries for a mid-morning snack. Salmon berries and raspberries were also spotted along the bike trails further down the road.

Blackberry bush near Cascade Locks

Perhaps the most stunning feature of the Columbia Gorge is how quickly the landscape changes from arid deserts to lush temperate rainforest. From east of the Dalles to just west of Hood River is not more than 35 miles, but in that distance, the landscape makes a 180 degree shift. Bike trails along I-84 pass through a rainforest filled with giant evergreens, mossy rocks, ferns, and waterfalls streaming from the Cascades. This amazing landscape marks a great way to end a cross-country trip. If and when they complete bike trails around the interstate sections, this route would be second to none that I have encountered.

Temperate rainforest in eastern Oregon

I finished up my five day ride with Reed with an afternoon enjoying the culinary experiences of Portland. Reed, Courtney and I sampled the overwhelming food truck scene here in Portland for lunch, grabbed some cocktails at the Whiskey Soda Lounge in southeast Portland, and enjoyed a fine dining experience of local flavors for dinner at Castagna Restaurant. I cannot thank them enough for joining me here in the northwest. Reed has been an excellent cycling companion for five days from Lewiston to Portland, and Courtney drove on her own from Wyoming to Oregon taking care of their dog Chloe on that long journey. Tomorrow is one last leg alone to the Pacific.

Reed Walker, Courtney Olsen Walker, and myself at Castagna

STAGE SUMMARY (click for map):

Starting Point - Hood River, OR

Ending Point - Portland, OR

Distance - 68.8 miles

Cumulative Distance - 3194.8 miles

Vertical Elevation - 3824 feet

Counties - Hood River, Multnomah, OR

Wind - moderate headwind

Day 38: Reclamation

It was a short and sweet ride today from Biggs Junction, OR to Hood River, OR marking our entrance into the Columbia River Gorge. Given the climbs and the wind conditions, we decided that a one day ride all the way to Portland would be too much. Moreover, this part of the valley is a region to savor.

From Biggs Junction, the landscape very much resembles the dry desertscapes of eastern Oregon with little but sagebrush and dusty cliff faces to admire. However, around the Dalles, the landscape begins to change completely with dryland giving way to pine forests and an otherwise greener environment. Outside the Dalles, we pick up the Historic Columbia River Highway and climbed to Rowena Crest overlooking the Gorge. This route, lightly traveled by cars and closed to motor vehicles in some sections, is a favorite for cyclists from the Portland area.

Overlooking the Columbia River from Rowena Crest

Despite its arid environment, the land around the Columbia River Valley remains tremendously productive agricultural land owing to the damming of the river. This high volume river is damned along its entire reach to the Canadian border providing water for high values crops from apples and cherries to the vineyards around Walla Walla. The diversity of the agriculture in this region sets it apart from the Dakotas or other parts of the Midwest.

Reed Walker overlooking John Day Dam

The aggressive reclamation projects in this region and the West overall have shaped this region economically and continue to carry economic and environmental consequences. Cheap hydroelectric power from the dams brought the Manhattan Project to Hanford where nuclear waste slowly seeps towards the Columbia, helped Alcoa become one of the world's largest aluminum producers, and brought airplane manufacturers like Boeing to the region. Reclamation also decimated the salmon runs that sustained the native population and characterized the river that Lewis and Clark traveled down in 1805. Today, salmon ladders and fish hatcheries try to revive these once plentiful salmon runs.

Bonneville Dam with transmission lines in the distance

Despite its changed character, the Columbia Valley remains a stunning sight to witness. Reed's wife, Courtney, drove today from Wyoming and met us in Hood River, OR. We took an afternoon drive 20 miles south towards Mount Hood and hiked up to a cliff face in the forest in the area. Avid climbers, Reed and Courtney scaled up some of these climbs; I even attempted the briefest of ascents before losing my grip and deciding to preserve my strength for the final couple days of my ride of the Pacific coast.

The Dalles Dam with salmon ladder in the foreground and Mount Hood in the background

STAGE SUMMARY:

Starting Point - Biggs Junction, OR

Ending Point - Hood River, OR

Distance - 45.4 miles

Cumulative Distance - 3126.0 miles

Vertical Elevation - 2934 feet

Counties - Sherman, Wasco, Hood River, OR

Wind - light headwind

Day 37: In the Rain Shadow

We started and ended in Oregon but most of the day was spent on the Washington side of the Columbia River. The climate here is dry and hot with a vexing wind from the west blowing along the valley. It made today's ride a bit of a slog, complicated by the absence of stops along the way. We took a couple of breaks just stopping along the side of the road sitting on guardrails or finding shade under a cliff face.

Drylands of Eastern Washington

When our heads weren't down pedaling furiously into the wind, we got a chance to admire the imposing valley cut by the Columbia River. Though the highway runs parallel to the river, the ride still features numerous climbs and descents along the sloped riverbank. Wineries, farms, and orchards dominated the area near Umatilla, OR while windmills dotted the cliffs on each side of the river closer to Biggs Junction.

Checking out the road ahead next to the Columbia River

This region's arid climate is attributable to the rain shadow cast by the Cascades Mountains. Cool wet winds from the Pacific condense and precipitate before arriving further inland. As we made our way west, Mount Hood emerged in the distance. As one of the highest peaks in the Cascades, it's snow-covered slopes offered a jarring contrast as we baked in the summer sun. It seems as if all the moisture from the Pacific finds itself stuck there. Sagebrush, tumbleweed, and the occasional stand of Ponderosa pines were all that could survive here.

Reed cycling up a climb with Mount Hood in the distance

Umatilla and Biggs Junction have little to offer of note. The former appears to be an farm town with a large Mexican-American community that works the nearby fields in the Palouse while the latter seems to be a truck stop on the interstate into Portland. The mini mart in Roosevelt - halfway between Umatilla and Biggs Junction - provides an invaluable rest stop for thirsty and hungry cyclists. We came across several today heading in both directions.

STAGE SUMMARY:

Starting Point - Umatilla, OR

Ending Point - Biggs Junction, OR

Distance - 85.5 miles

Cumulative Distance - 3080.6 miles

Vertical Elevation - 4056 feet

Counties - Umatilla, OR; Benton, Klickitat, WA; Sherman, OR

Wind - moderate headwind

Day 36: Occupational Hazards

Oregon and the Columbia River! A short but hot ride today brought us further into the arid stretches of eastern Washington and Oregon. A cool wind off the river kept the heat manageable in the morning, but, by the afternoon, even the wind blew hot air. We stopped by a small beach along the river to jump in and cool off.

Checking the integrity of the Oregon Welcome sign

As I near the end of my trip, this is probably as good a time as any to describe the physical effects of a cross-country journey. If you are a fan of farmer's tans, then a cross country bike ride is for you. Whether you are riding in bright sunshine or cloudy skies, a fierce tan is to be expected and it will take the shape of whatever cycling gear you are wearing. In particular, for someone like me who shaves their head, be prepared for a tan in the shape of your helmet, complete with the strap lines and stripes where the sun gets through the helmet's air vents.

Ridiculous tan line on my arm

Beyond unfortunate tan lines, the only other particular physical ailment has been the isolated bout of dehydration. In hot and humid days on the road, you lose a lot of water and electrolytes in a fairly short period of time. During the first two days of the trip in humid 90 degree weather outside New York, I started developing muscle cramps by the early afternoon. I have found that electrolyte tablets taken in the morning generally work well along with Gatorade throughout the day. A combination of acclimation and generally drier weather has staved off any additional bouts of cramping. Nevertheless, at the end of hot days, I find my face and jersey caked with salt (I'll spare you the pictures).

Reed Walker surveying the Columbia River

Beyond managing elements - sun and rain, heat and cold - I have not suffered much in the way of other ailments. I have managed to avoid sickness or food poisoning, though some cyclists I have come across have not been so fortunate. Soreness in the quads is largely confined to the hardest climbing days or days cycling into a headwind. Initially, you will experience soreness and tightness in your arms and back from sitting upright on a bike for 5-7 hours a day but the body seems to adapt within a week or so.

STAGE SUMMARY:

Starting Point - Walla Walla, WA

Ending Point - Umatilla, OR

Distance - 56.2 miles

Cumulative Distance - 2995.1 miles

Vertical Elevation - 1634 feet

Counties - Walla Walla, WA; Umatilla, OR

Wind - variable headwind

Day 35: The Palouse

Into Washington and the homestretch. No more rest days as I make the final push to the Pacific Ocean. My friend, Reed Walker, flew out to Lewiston, ID yesterday and joined me on the road. He will ride with me to Portland as we make our way through the arid regions of eastern Washington to the Columbia River and through the Columbia Gorge into the city.

Beginning at the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater Rivers, we entered a dry and hilly region of eastern Washington called the Palouse. Composed of silt dunes formed during the last ice age, the Palouse is now productive farmland home to vast fields of wheat, barley and mustard. Our ride today featured several climbs including a somewhat severe 10 mile, 2000 foot climb out of the L-C Valley towards Pomeroy, WA. In the bright summer sunshine, the brown wheat fields appear soft and willowy stretching on rolling hills in all directions. We spotted deer wading through the fields, sheep and cattle grazing upon immense slopes, and even a snake sitting on the roadway. Giant windmills towered over the hills slowly turning in the light breeze.

Windmills over the Palouse

Our route also brought us to several interesting small towns here in southeastern Washington. The small farming town of Dayton - one of the older communities in Washington formed along the Oregon Trail - offered several options for brunch including the excellent Weinhard Cafe. Leaving aside the wisdom of cycling after drinking a beer, we stopped by a microbrewery in Waitsburg - the Laht Neppur. Arriving in Walla Walla, we discovered a town with more wine tasting places than cross streets. Apparently, the region, with its dry climate, is known for its vineyards. The Charles Smith Tasting Room is one of innumerable local wine tasting spots. For those teetotalers, the main street offers plenty of inviting cafes, restaurants, and antique shops.

A climb in the Palouse

STAGE SUMMARY:

Starting Point - Lewiston, ID

Ending Point - Walla Walla, WA

Distance - 96.5 miles

Cumulative Distance - 2938.9 miles

Vertical Elevation - 5808 feet

Counties - Nez Perce, ID; Asotin, Garfield, Columbia, Walla Walla, WA

Wind - variable crosswind

Day 34: God's Country

It is a dream. It is what people who have come here from the beginning of time have dreamed. It's a dream landscape. To the Native American, it's full of sacred realities, powerful things. It's a landscape that has to be seen to be believed. And as I say on occasion, it may have to be believed in order to be seen.

N. Scott Momaday -

On this Independence Day, a hard ride was made worthwhile by the vistas on display in this corner of the West. One of the cyclists I met a couple days back memorably labeled this land - the West - God's country, and its expansiveness and splendor were on full display today. My photographs hardly capture the feeling one gets cycling in the West - of being immersed and lost in forest, canyon and prairie.

Wheat fields in the Weippe Prairie

At daybreak, I started out from the banks of the Clearwater River and climbed into the steep hills up to the Weippe Prairie. With the roads nearly empty on this holiday morning, the sun cast strange shadows about the canyons as I embarked on an 10 mile, 2000 foot climb to the Columbia Plateau. At the top, I thought I was back in the Dakotas with rolling prairies of wheat and mustard fields as far as the eye could see - no sign of the landscape as seen from the valley below. This unique landscape comes from rivers that have cut steep valleys in this high plateau formed from lava fields over hundreds of thousands of years.

The steep hillsides leading up to the Columbia Plateau

These productive lands lie within the Nez Perce Indian Reservation, though little of the land is owned by Native Americans since the land was opened up to white settlers in 1895. Friends of the Lewis and Clark Expedition as they stumbled out of the mountains, the Nez Perce vainly resisted their forced relocation in the 1870s. The reservation offered few signs of the Nez Perce people outside the small tribal town of Lapwai, ID.

Mustard fields on the Weippe Prairie

The displacement and decline of the Nez Perce is the sad counterpoint to what the West represents in the American ethos - a place of opportunity and hope. In a letter to his wife, on the eve of Independence in 1796, John Adams presciently declared that this day "ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade . . . from one end of this continent to the other from this time forward forever more." Even before the colonies had gained their independence, Adams, like Jefferson and many of the Founders, envisioned a nation stretching from one ocean to the other. For them and for so many subsequent generations, in the West lies the future. To cycle through this land is to experience ever so briefly that landscape of dreams.

STAGE SUMMARY:

Starting Point - Kamiah, ID

Ending Point - Lewiston, ID

Distance - 81.0 miles

Cumulative Distance - 2842.4 miles

Vertical Elevation - 5226 feet

Counties - Idaho, Lewis, Nez Perce, ID

Wind - variable crosswind

Day 33: Endless Forest

Dropping steadily over 3000 feet, I wound my way along the Lochsa River bidding farewell to the Rockies. Though it is tough to get up and start riding at sunrise at 5:30 AM, it is worthwhile to escape the heat and enjoy the quiet roads in the early hours after sunrise.

After leaving the lodge, my route tracked the Lochsa River through the Clearwater Forest for the next 90 miles. A slight downhill grade kept the pace brisk with the constant sounds of the waters of the Lochsa and the various mountain creeks that join the river the only soundtrack to the ride.

Lochsa River and the Clearwater Forest

The deep green of the evergreen forests extends in all directions unchanged. Indeed, the only way you know that you are making progress out of the forest is the mile markers that tick down one mile every 4 minutes. The river grows gradually wider and the slopes become gradually shallower as I descended out of the mountains.

Narrow US-12 through the Clearwater Forest

Just south of my route lies the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness area and further south the Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness area - the largest wilderness area in the US outside Alaska. The Frank is named for the last Democrat to represent Idaho in Senate, an instrumental figure in the passage of the Wilderness Act of 1964. But for the highway, the area I was riding through would be wilderness as well. Straight south of US-12, you would not find another paved road for more than one hundred miles.

Drier landscape in the Kamiah Valley along the Clearwater River

As the number of cars dwindled, the number of cross-country cyclists surged. At Lochsa Lodge, I met four westbound cyclists and two eastbound cyclists all on the TransAmerica Trail. The westbound cyclists (one solo rider and a group of three) got an earlier start this morning, but I met them on the road, and we cycled some 15-20 miles together. At this hour, we owned the road, riding alongside and chatting about the experiences accumulated over the past couple thousand miles. We also saw several other riders headed in the other direction eastbound up to Lolo Pass. At the first stop in Lowell (some 65 miles in), a Twin Cities native headed eastbound spotted my Penn Cycle water bottle. I introduced him to one of the westbound cyclists who came the direction where he was headed, sharing clues and insights about the road ahead.

STAGE SUMMARY:

Starting Point - Lochsa Lodge, ID

Ending Point - Kamiah, ID
Distance - 95.3 miles
Cumulative Distance - 2761.4 miles
Vertical Elevation - 3471 feet

Counties - Idaho, ID

Wind - light crosswind

Day 32: Last of the Mountain Passes

After the better part of two weeks, I am out of Montana and into Idaho. Today, I crossed the last mountain pass of my transcontinental journey and entered the hundred mile wide Nez-Perce Clearwater National Forest. Higher elevations, an early start, and a cool breeze out of the mountains kept conditions nice during the morning ride. I could have easily cycled longer, but the next place to stay is some 80 miles further west.

From Missoula, I turned southwest into the Bitterroot Mountains climbing from 3000 feet to about 5200 feet at Lolo Pass. The route, a quiet and scenic trip through dense evergreen forests and steep mountain sides, climbs fairly gently until kicking up in the last couple miles. In these forested slopes, the Lewis and Clark expedition nearly came to their demise, struggling against starvation and exposure amid an early snowfall in September 1805. Snow was still visible at the top of Lolo Peak at an elevation of 9000 feet. I hoped to see a black bear, but the only animals I spotted were deer (and giant flies).

Snow at the top of Lolo Peak in the Bitterroot Range

During my day off yesterday in Missoula, I stopped by the headquarters of the Adventure Cycling Association, got my picture taken, met a steady stream of cross-country cyclists stopping in, and shared thoughts about routes for those traveling east and thinking about crossing the Dakotas. Missoula proved a pleasant culinary experience with great coffee houses and eclectic eateries. Less touristy and ritzy than Bozeman, Missoula is like Berkeley in the mountains. My dad joined me in Missoula and is accompanying me for the next couple days through Independence Day. We enjoyed a great meal at the Silk Road - definitely recommend for anyone passing through.

Pine beetle kill in the Clearwater National Forest

STAGE SUMMARY:

Starting Point - Missoula, MT

Ending Point - Lochsa Lodge, ID
Distance - 54.7 miles
Cumulative Distance - 2666.1 miles
Vertical Elevation - 3311 feet

Counties - Missoula, MT; Idaho, ID

Wind - light crosswind