Friday, June 10th
Wind speed: 13mph Direction: in my face (East) temperature: 34°. These are not optimum someone cycling 7 hours a day. Especially one that is heading West.
I knew what I was letting myself in for, choosing to cross the country east to west instead of west to east which (on average) would result in more favourable wind conditions. I’d read enough to see evidence that contradicted that, and felt that experiencing headwinds, tailwinds, and side winds at some point would only be natural for a trip of this distance.
But until today I didn’t really know what it would feel like to cycle into the wind for a full day. Now I do – It’s tough. My average speed dropped from 12-13mph to barely over 9. Every mile felt hard earned, passing every 10 felt miraculous, and was celebrated with many snacks and iced coffees.
The heat was tough, but the wind provided distraction from this at least – it didn’t really hit me until my last 8 or so miles which were headed north, and out of the wind which had dogged me all day.
The landscape and events were simply a continuation of the day before – fields and telegraph poles. Small towns, some interesting, some not so much.
I stopped at Cambridge in the morning after leaving the state park. I’d cooked up some oatmeal and coffee before I left, but was already hungry. I wanted to get an early start but it was 10 or 11 and hot already.
In the heat it was hard to tell what my body needed. I got a ice coffee, a sandwich, an Arizona tea, and a snickers ice cream. I should have spent all my money on ice cream. Gas stations in some of the smaller towns double as delis, but often the food is awful, despite drawing in a lot of locals for lunch. Though I hate finding myself back at Subway, Dunkin’ Doughnuts, even McDonald’s, there is something kind of amazing about walking into one of these places anywhere and knowing it will taste the same. As a disclaimer to that statement: at this point I’m mainly viewing food as fuel for my bike to get me where I need to go. Being a food snob, especially in mid-West America, won’t get you very far.
My next stop was at Orion. A small but bigger town with lots of garage sales happening. At least 6 houses had objects and things out in their driveways and lawns. If I wasn’t travelling by bike I’d have investigated, but I’d come into town to find wifi. I have libraries marked on my GPS route. Libraries have wifi (and books, too) and I needed to top up my phone as I’d run out of data.
I set outside in the shade and connected to it. Later I went inside. It was air conditioned and a little like stepping back in time, at least to the 90s, which was the last time I remember setting foot in a place which felt like this. I was given a cold bottle of water by the friendly staff and continued to use the wifi to sync more podcasts. On the bookcase was a framed photo of Obama with the word ‘READ’ in all caps. On the table was a large jigsaw I was invited to help finish. A plant was carefully positioned where two walls met. A lazy eyed kid used a computer with headphones on and laughed every few seconds at something on the screen. An older guy sat at the back in quiet and read.
It was nostalgic and comforting in an odd way, perhaps being surrounded by the books or just knowing that places like this still exist, and people actually do use them.
Fatigue and heat were the themes of the afternoon. The wind persisted. Progress was slow, probably made slower as I checked it all the time on my phone. I think I needed some reassurance I was still moving forward at all. If services aligned I treated myself to a break every 10 miles.
I scaled back my expectations for where I would make it to by the end of the day. I was still adjusting to the earlier sunsets in Central Time. I wouldn’t make it to Iowa.
I found a state park on the map, right down by the Mississippi, and arrived at 8. As with the night before the approach was hilly and the last thing I wanted at the end of the day, though it does make finally stopping just a little more rewarding.
The park was huge, a lake in the middle and grounds on either side of that which rose up then fell down again as it met the river.
I cycled down to the appealing sounding ‘River View Campsite’. Signs said to register to in the park office. It was a lot bigger and busier than the previous night and I didn’t feel that I could get away with not paying in case a park ranger circulated so grudgingly I cycled back uphill then another mile up and downhill to the park office. It was less about the money and more about the continuing punishment my body was taking.
At the office I picked out the camp spot I wanted, close to the river and away from everyone else already registered. 15 dollars. I chatted to a friendly park ranger as a woman entered my details into the void of her computer. I’ve no idea where this information ends up.
I cycled back with renewed energy now I knew, with certainty, this day of cycling would be over. I set up camp, ate pretzels and began drinking the oversize can of Lite beer I’d bought an hour or so ago. Thankfully it was still slightly cold.
Map
