Like A Yo-Yo

Say goodbye to good fat biking snow.....for now.

 The last several days have been a bit of a roller coaster from the weather perspective. We were up near freezing, then way below zero, then back up near freezing again. Now we're supposed to have two days straight of 'snow-melting' weather and I think that will about do in the fat biking snow we've had. 

Really, we've had about two shovel-able snows this season, and that's it. The last one was the big one. An eight-incher. But that was back in mid-January and since then we've only had a dusting or three of powdery snow that didn't amount to much. Meanwhile, snow evaporates, gets wind driven, and melts, to the point that our original eight inches is maybe four now in reality. 

This Sun, wind, and higher temperatures are going to zap that leftover, dried up, broken down snow in a big hurry. I suspect that unless we get another good four to five inches of snow before mid-March, well fat biking season could be over early this year. 

That just means that gravel riding is right around the corner now. And my knees are getting tuned up, and that moving gig is over, so I suspect I'll be ready to go when the weather allows it. That means I need to tune-up the fleet here. Get things dialed in, and replace a few parts. I already have a couple things in to review, so I am itching to get going now. 

The Raleigh Tamland Two with something old, something 'borrowed', and something blue.

I have a few things in process, but one of the more interesting - well, to me anyway - things is this Raleigh Tamland Two set up. I have a specific part on here that is getting a review and test, which required that I find an old accessory item I had to use in conjunction with this test. You've probably already guessed it. That old handle bar bag. There is a bit of a story there......

In my stories I wrote for "The Touring Series", I have a story on the "Race Against Death" tour. During that self-supported tour I used a - at that time - new handle bar bag. It was a Cycle Pro bar bag. I really liked that bag for its functionality. I had all sorts of stuff in it and my map case, (remember navigating by paper maps?), snapped to the top of it. It was really a great system. This bag had those 'guy wires' to the front drop-out eyelets and a big, bent metal 'hangar' piece that suspended the bag from an old forged, quill style stem. 

I further accessorized this bag with some 'temple bells' I purchased at a local 'head shop' and draped those over the front of the bag. This was really supposed to be a necklace, and it is all Sterling Silver, by the way. First class here! Anyway, these things tinkle and jingle as you ride down the road. It drove my touring mates nuts back in '95! 

Anyway, I dug that old Cycle Pro bag out and stuck it on there using my review/test product I have there as a base, and strapped it on using some Velcro strips and an old toe strap. It's rock solid! I'll probably be heard for a mile away when I get this out soon!

But I had to do some tuning up on the old Raleigh. New derailleur cables, housings, and a wheel swap was done. The old aluminum Irwin wheels broke a spoke on the rear, so I decided this old Raleigh deserved the carbon Irwin wheels I have, and I swapped those over. However; I have to source a different, lower profile rotor lock ring to clear the carbon fork. Ahh......!! It's always something! So, when that part, and a new chain, come in, I'll have this rig out and about. 

I'm sure the weather will yo-yo a few times before it settles down. I'll have to probably ride another of my bikes when we get this spate of warmer weather here, because I am sure it won't last all that long. The Raleigh will have to wait for a bit, but I'll be looking forward to the old 'jingle-jangle' sound of this old handle bar bag again after so many years.

Like A Yo-Yo

Say goodbye to good fat biking snow.....for now.

 The last several days have been a bit of a roller coaster from the weather perspective. We were up near freezing, then way below zero, then back up near freezing again. Now we're supposed to have two days straight of 'snow-melting' weather and I think that will about do in the fat biking snow we've had. 

Really, we've had about two shovel-able snows this season, and that's it. The last one was the big one. An eight-incher. But that was back in mid-January and since then we've only had a dusting or three of powdery snow that didn't amount to much. Meanwhile, snow evaporates, gets wind driven, and melts, to the point that our original eight inches is maybe four now in reality. 

This Sun, wind, and higher temperatures are going to zap that leftover, dried up, broken down snow in a big hurry. I suspect that unless we get another good four to five inches of snow before mid-March, well fat biking season could be over early this year. 

That just means that gravel riding is right around the corner now. And my knees are getting tuned up, and that moving gig is over, so I suspect I'll be ready to go when the weather allows it. That means I need to tune-up the fleet here. Get things dialed in, and replace a few parts. I already have a couple things in to review, so I am itching to get going now. 

The Raleigh Tamland Two with something old, something 'borrowed', and something blue.

I have a few things in process, but one of the more interesting - well, to me anyway - things is this Raleigh Tamland Two set up. I have a specific part on here that is getting a review and test, which required that I find an old accessory item I had to use in conjunction with this test. You've probably already guessed it. That old handle bar bag. There is a bit of a story there......

In my stories I wrote for "The Touring Series", I have a story on the "Race Against Death" tour. During that self-supported tour I used a - at that time - new handle bar bag. It was a Cycle Pro bar bag. I really liked that bag for its functionality. I had all sorts of stuff in it and my map case, (remember navigating by paper maps?), snapped to the top of it. It was really a great system. This bag had those 'guy wires' to the front drop-out eyelets and a big, bent metal 'hangar' piece that suspended the bag from an old forged, quill style stem. 

I further accessorized this bag with some 'temple bells' I purchased at a local 'head shop' and draped those over the front of the bag. This was really supposed to be a necklace, and it is all Sterling Silver, by the way. First class here! Anyway, these things tinkle and jingle as you ride down the road. It drove my touring mates nuts back in '95! 

Anyway, I dug that old Cycle Pro bag out and stuck it on there using my review/test product I have there as a base, and strapped it on using some Velcro strips and an old toe strap. It's rock solid! I'll probably be heard for a mile away when I get this out soon!

But I had to do some tuning up on the old Raleigh. New derailleur cables, housings, and a wheel swap was done. The old aluminum Irwin wheels broke a spoke on the rear, so I decided this old Raleigh deserved the carbon Irwin wheels I have, and I swapped those over. However; I have to source a different, lower profile rotor lock ring to clear the carbon fork. Ahh......!! It's always something! So, when that part, and a new chain, come in, I'll have this rig out and about. 

I'm sure the weather will yo-yo a few times before it settles down. I'll have to probably ride another of my bikes when we get this spate of warmer weather here, because I am sure it won't last all that long. The Raleigh will have to wait for a bit, but I'll be looking forward to the old 'jingle-jangle' sound of this old handle bar bag again after so many years.

Friday News And Views

The New Fox Transfer SL Dropper Post.

 FOX Debuts New Dropper For XC/Gravel Bikes:

Dropper posts, the seat posts which have the ability to lower via a mechanical connection to a lever at your handlebar, are generally thought of as a mountain biking thing. The ability to get that saddle down and out of the way is a boon to off-road cyclists on descents. But the aerodynamic benefits to gravel riders seems to be less known. That benefit, perhaps best described when one thinks about that banned 'top tube seated position' that Pro road racers used to use, is definitely something you have to feel to have it be believed. 

FOX, just this week, debuted a new FOX Transfer SL post which has been lightened quite a bit to get around the complaints many gravel and XC MTB riders have about traditional dropper post weight. This new post weighs a little over 300 grams, (327 claimed), which is about 130 grams more than many fancy, carbon seat posts. (Of course, that doesn't include the lever to operate the post, nor the cable and housing)

Posts will be available in 27.2mm, 30.9mm, and 31.6mm at $399.00 for the Factory version and $329.00 for the Elite version. Various dropper lengths will also be available. 

How did FOX drop the weight so far? Well, they made this post operate via a coil spring with only two positions instead of an infinitely settable positioning within limitations of the dropper. FOX claims that most gravel and XC MTB riders only want 'all the way down' or 'all the way up' positions anyway. This allowed FOX to ditch all the air seals, hydraulic fluids, and the attendant mechanisms to house that within the post. 

Comments: So, in other words, FOX remade Specialized's Command Post from almost ten years ago. I happen to have a Command Post and it operates almost identically to this new FOX post. It has two positions: All the way down or what Specialized called a "Cruiser" height. It is a cable operated post, like the new Transfer SL, and the only difference is that Specialized used an air spring versus FOX's coil spring. 

Otherwise this will appeal to those who want light weight and dropper ability. The downsides are that grit and grime from dirt road/gravel road riding will affect the operation of this sort of post negatively, especially when you see that FOX took away all the sealing mechanisms in order to attain the weight target they set. Time will tell, but the seemingly low-tech seat post, which most of us take for granted, undergoes tremendous amounts of stress and torque while riding. Not to mention exposure to dirt, dust, mud, rain, etc. How this post will hold up to all of that is yet to be seen. 

The Cannondale "Bugger" trailer (Image from old Cannondale marketing print)

Cannondale Turns 50:

Hard to believe it, but Cannondale, as a brand, turns 50 years old this month. Back in 1971 the company started by Joe Montgomery offered its first product, a touring trailer towed by the bicycle. The first product of its kind ever offered. 

The idea was to get the load off the back of the cyclist and using the same positioning, the trailer was designed so that the load could be carried with no weight put on the bike at all. This saved wheels from being stressed more than they would have been with the weight bourne by the bicycle. Of course, this all happened at the dawn of the height of bicycle tourism, so the product found an audience fairly quickly. In fact, one could argue that 'bikepacking' was invented by the brand back in the 70's. 

That history can be read on the MOMBAT page for the brand here. I highly recommend that you check it out. Cannondale was not just a bicycle brand! There are a few things I learned there which I had never known before I researched this entry for today's 'FN&V'. 

My introduction to Cannondale was via mountain bikes, of course, and more intimately through my touring days, which you can read about by clicking the "The Touring Series" tab just under the header on the upper right here. I was exposed to cool Cannondale panniers and Cannondale cycling clothing through those experiences. 

Congratulations to Cannondale on 50 years! 

Good Luck Unbound Riders:

Last week I riffed on this new event's name, which has a really weird reason for being in existence. I say that because 99.9% of folks are just rolling over the DK200 into this and basically 'the why' of this has been swept under a rug. Okay....so be it. Not my circus.....

That said, I do wish everyone a safe, fun, successful event.

Looks like the weather will be pretty okay. Basically pretty typical for this event. "High" humidity, which for them is around what? 40%? And there will be wind. Oh yes.... From the South too, so getting back to Emporia will be tougher than going out. 

Lots of Sunshine too, so, as a person who has experienced all of this there in the past, you'd better stay on top of that hydration, measure out your pace, and keep moving. Sitting around will not be a good play unless you are overheating, dehydrated, and hurting. 

The "North" route tends to be the more gnarly way down there, so I suspect that I will hear about a lot of attrition, biffs, flat tires, and stories about dragging tail to Emporia from this one. That's par for the course down there with this sort of weather set up. 

I hear a lot of folks are going with road shoes and pedals. Hope that you do not have to hike-a-bike on some rocky bits with those. Otherwise this event really caters to that sort of set up and the weather is looking to be playing into that set up as well. Should be interesting. 

Anyway, I am not there, obviously, since I have a family to collect tomorrow, which leads me to the next and last entry today......

Been 'Batchin' It: 

So all this week, a short week, I admit, I have been home alone here. My son graduated last week and since the El Paso relatives could not come to celebrate with us, we sent most of the family down to see them. I, of course, stayed behind to take care of our cat, the plants, and to be able to work the days I could. 

So, with the way the timing of everything worked out with this trip, it precluded me from even thinking about going to Emporia. I will be on the road tomorrow to collect my family from the airport down in Des Moines. Yes- we have to go 2 hours to get to an airport sometimes. That's just how it worked out to be the least expensive way for us. 

Never fear though! I will be sneaking in  a ride, I hope, and that will get reported on next week. Until then, be well, stay safe, ride, have fun, and I'll see y'all soon here on G-Ted Productions. Thanks for reading!

Friday News And Views

The New Fox Transfer SL Dropper Post.

 FOX Debuts New Dropper For XC/Gravel Bikes:

Dropper posts, the seat posts which have the ability to lower via a mechanical connection to a lever at your handlebar, are generally thought of as a mountain biking thing. The ability to get that saddle down and out of the way is a boon to off-road cyclists on descents. But the aerodynamic benefits to gravel riders seems to be less known. That benefit, perhaps best described when one thinks about that banned 'top tube seated position' that Pro road racers used to use, is definitely something you have to feel to have it be believed. 

FOX, just this week, debuted a new FOX Transfer SL post which has been lightened quite a bit to get around the complaints many gravel and XC MTB riders have about traditional dropper post weight. This new post weighs a little over 300 grams, (327 claimed), which is about 130 grams more than many fancy, carbon seat posts. (Of course, that doesn't include the lever to operate the post, nor the cable and housing)

Posts will be available in 27.2mm, 30.9mm, and 31.6mm at $399.00 for the Factory version and $329.00 for the Elite version. Various dropper lengths will also be available. 

How did FOX drop the weight so far? Well, they made this post operate via a coil spring with only two positions instead of an infinitely settable positioning within limitations of the dropper. FOX claims that most gravel and XC MTB riders only want 'all the way down' or 'all the way up' positions anyway. This allowed FOX to ditch all the air seals, hydraulic fluids, and the attendant mechanisms to house that within the post. 

Comments: So, in other words, FOX remade Specialized's Command Post from almost ten years ago. I happen to have a Command Post and it operates almost identically to this new FOX post. It has two positions: All the way down or what Specialized called a "Cruiser" height. It is a cable operated post, like the new Transfer SL, and the only difference is that Specialized used an air spring versus FOX's coil spring. 

Otherwise this will appeal to those who want light weight and dropper ability. The downsides are that grit and grime from dirt road/gravel road riding will affect the operation of this sort of post negatively, especially when you see that FOX took away all the sealing mechanisms in order to attain the weight target they set. Time will tell, but the seemingly low-tech seat post, which most of us take for granted, undergoes tremendous amounts of stress and torque while riding. Not to mention exposure to dirt, dust, mud, rain, etc. How this post will hold up to all of that is yet to be seen. 

The Cannondale "Bugger" trailer (Image from old Cannondale marketing print)

Cannondale Turns 50:

Hard to believe it, but Cannondale, as a brand, turns 50 years old this month. Back in 1971 the company started by Joe Montgomery offered its first product, a touring trailer towed by the bicycle. The first product of its kind ever offered. 

The idea was to get the load off the back of the cyclist and using the same positioning, the trailer was designed so that the load could be carried with no weight put on the bike at all. This saved wheels from being stressed more than they would have been with the weight bourne by the bicycle. Of course, this all happened at the dawn of the height of bicycle tourism, so the product found an audience fairly quickly. In fact, one could argue that 'bikepacking' was invented by the brand back in the 70's. 

That history can be read on the MOMBAT page for the brand here. I highly recommend that you check it out. Cannondale was not just a bicycle brand! There are a few things I learned there which I had never known before I researched this entry for today's 'FN&V'. 

My introduction to Cannondale was via mountain bikes, of course, and more intimately through my touring days, which you can read about by clicking the "The Touring Series" tab just under the header on the upper right here. I was exposed to cool Cannondale panniers and Cannondale cycling clothing through those experiences. 

Congratulations to Cannondale on 50 years! 

Good Luck Unbound Riders:

Last week I riffed on this new event's name, which has a really weird reason for being in existence. I say that because 99.9% of folks are just rolling over the DK200 into this and basically 'the why' of this has been swept under a rug. Okay....so be it. Not my circus.....

That said, I do wish everyone a safe, fun, successful event.

Looks like the weather will be pretty okay. Basically pretty typical for this event. "High" humidity, which for them is around what? 40%? And there will be wind. Oh yes.... From the South too, so getting back to Emporia will be tougher than going out. 

Lots of Sunshine too, so, as a person who has experienced all of this there in the past, you'd better stay on top of that hydration, measure out your pace, and keep moving. Sitting around will not be a good play unless you are overheating, dehydrated, and hurting. 

The "North" route tends to be the more gnarly way down there, so I suspect that I will hear about a lot of attrition, biffs, flat tires, and stories about dragging tail to Emporia from this one. That's par for the course down there with this sort of weather set up. 

I hear a lot of folks are going with road shoes and pedals. Hope that you do not have to hike-a-bike on some rocky bits with those. Otherwise this event really caters to that sort of set up and the weather is looking to be playing into that set up as well. Should be interesting. 

Anyway, I am not there, obviously, since I have a family to collect tomorrow, which leads me to the next and last entry today......

Been 'Batchin' It: 

So all this week, a short week, I admit, I have been home alone here. My son graduated last week and since the El Paso relatives could not come to celebrate with us, we sent most of the family down to see them. I, of course, stayed behind to take care of our cat, the plants, and to be able to work the days I could. 

So, with the way the timing of everything worked out with this trip, it precluded me from even thinking about going to Emporia. I will be on the road tomorrow to collect my family from the airport down in Des Moines. Yes- we have to go 2 hours to get to an airport sometimes. That's just how it worked out to be the least expensive way for us. 

Never fear though! I will be sneaking in  a ride, I hope, and that will get reported on next week. Until then, be well, stay safe, ride, have fun, and I'll see y'all soon here on G-Ted Productions. Thanks for reading!

Just Passing Through

Wesley and his Black Mountain Cycles Monstercross bike.

 On Monday when I arrived at work at Andy's Bike Shop I was running the show alone for the morning hours. It was a good thing that I have had almost 45 years of working with customers at a retail level under my belt because things started off with a bang. The phone was going nuts and I had multiple people on the sales floor several times throughout the morning. One of the calls I fielded was a bit unusual. 

The caller was obviously outside, judging by the wind noise I could discern during our conversation. It turned out I was correct because the caller was on the road near Denver, Iowa on a self-supported bicycle tour. He needed assistance with a poorly behaving rear derailleur and a wheel that was wiggly. I gave him the thumbs up to make an appearance at the shop whenever he could get there that afternoon. 

Eventually, after a couple of hiccups finding the place, a young man with an orange bicycle, laden with baggage, and sporting an American flag slid in through the front door. His name was Wesley, and he had a Black Mountain Cycles Monstercross, just like mine! Right down to the same size and everything. Pretty amazing right there. Wesley marveled at the fact that I had an identical frame and fork to his and then I got the heavily laden rig up into the stand to have a look. 

We got him sorted- a loose rear cable and a broken spoke turned out to be his issues with the bike, and then we had time to chat a bit. Andy had showed up by this time, and Wesley got our photograph for his You Tube video channel documenting his journey. Eventually he is to hook up with a companion traveler and together they are going to go to California via bicycle. Wesley thought the trip should consume about two months time. 

I told Wesley that if we were part of his story, he had to be part of mine, so he graciously posed for a photograph, and well, here is the story. I was pretty interested in his situation, having done a similar trip by bicycle twice in my life, (See "The Touring Series" link below the header above for those stories), but nothing cross country to California. That is a big adventure! I wish Wesley and his companion well! Hopefully they have some awesome, life altering-in-a-good-way type experiences along their way.

Just Passing Through

Wesley and his Black Mountain Cycles Monstercross bike.

 On Monday when I arrived at work at Andy's Bike Shop I was running the show alone for the morning hours. It was a good thing that I have had almost 45 years of working with customers at a retail level under my belt because things started off with a bang. The phone was going nuts and I had multiple people on the sales floor several times throughout the morning. One of the calls I fielded was a bit unusual. 

The caller was obviously outside, judging by the wind noise I could discern during our conversation. It turned out I was correct because the caller was on the road near Denver, Iowa on a self-supported bicycle tour. He needed assistance with a poorly behaving rear derailleur and a wheel that was wiggly. I gave him the thumbs up to make an appearance at the shop whenever he could get there that afternoon. 

Eventually, after a couple of hiccups finding the place, a young man with an orange bicycle, laden with baggage, and sporting an American flag slid in through the front door. His name was Wesley, and he had a Black Mountain Cycles Monstercross, just like mine! Right down to the same size and everything. Pretty amazing right there. Wesley marveled at the fact that I had an identical frame and fork to his and then I got the heavily laden rig up into the stand to have a look. 

We got him sorted- a loose rear cable and a broken spoke turned out to be his issues with the bike, and then we had time to chat a bit. Andy had showed up by this time, and Wesley got our photograph for his You Tube video channel documenting his journey. Eventually he is to hook up with a companion traveler and together they are going to go to California via bicycle. Wesley thought the trip should consume about two months time. 

I told Wesley that if we were part of his story, he had to be part of mine, so he graciously posed for a photograph, and well, here is the story. I was pretty interested in his situation, having done a similar trip by bicycle twice in my life, (See "The Touring Series" link below the header above for those stories), but nothing cross country to California. That is a big adventure! I wish Wesley and his companion well! Hopefully they have some awesome, life altering-in-a-good-way type experiences along their way.

The Touring Series: A Welcome Home Party

This is the final post in the "Touring Series" Thank you for following along! Next week I'll pick up with new entries which will fill in the time between this tour and the first Trans Iowa. Look for an outline of what to expect next week. 

This entry isn't really part of the "Race Against Death Tour" proper, but since it is having to do with that tour, and since a significant event happened along with it, I have always thought of this event as the "period' at the end of the story of this Tour. With that, I hope that you enjoy this entry and will stick around for the next series. Thanks! Now, on with the last chapter.......
 
With the "Race Against Death Tour" over and done with, a few days after arriving at home a party was thrown in honor of the three travelers at the home of their boss from the bike shop.....
______________________________________________________________________________

August 19th, 1995: With the tour behind us we went back to our "regular" lives at the bike shop. It was still pretty busy, being August and all. I slipped right back into the regular routine. Saturday after work was going to be a big party at Tom's house for our return home. More of an excuse for a party, rather than a real reason, but what the heck, ya know?

So I decided to ride my bike over since I planned on having a few beers and escaping the notice of "The Law" on my bicycle after being "under the influence" was easier on two wheels under my own power. So it was that I pedaled over and found the party just beginning. It was just like any other gathering for me. I never was too adept at being "in the flow" of a party with a bunch of people, and this time was no different. Troy and Ryan were there, of course, but I didn't really connect with them.  I sat around, made a few comments, and had my fair share of beer. Later in the evening, I decided to bug out. I wasn't really feeling it.

And to be honest, it was an anti-climatic deal anyway. I was done with the most exciting thing I had ever done on a bicycle with no prospects of anything around the corner, an empty house, and no one to share my experiences with. WooHoo! Yeah.....big deal and all. So I turned the ol' Mongoose towards home and waved goodbye.

Now in those days, I didn't ride much with a light. I usually went at a fairly easy pace in the dark and just took it easy. We had bike paths, so staying out of harms way was easy to figure out. Back streets and bike paths all the way home, and I'd be in the sack trying to forget about all of this. Or so I thought. Turned out that this last hurrah for the tour had a pretty weird punctuation mark!

My plan was to hit the main bike path through George Wyth State Park, link up to the East Lake Trail, which would dump me out near the San Souci bridge. Then some industrial area back streets would guide me to my neighborhood and home. About a ten mile ride in all. It started out just grand. No wind, coolish temperatures, and plenty of street lights to guide me on the way into Geo. Wyth. That's where the speeds were dropped down really low. Darkness in that canopied trail was thick and it was hard to see. That being gotten through, I figured it was a no-brainer now the rest of the way in. That is until I got to the start of the Sans Souci bridge.

I heard crying. Crying like a young ladies cry, and it was saying, "Please help me!" between heavy sobs. I stopped to make sure I was hearing this for real. Yep! No doubt about it, and I could tell it was coming from the direction of the grassy sided dike that lined the river here. I dismounted my bike in search of the source of this crying. Well, it didn't take long to find it. A young woman laying in the grass. She looked to be a teenager. Maybe in her very early 20's at best. I told her I wasn't going to hurt her as she shrank away from me at first. I said I only wanted to know if she needed help. She sat up and said yes, she did need help. She had been pushed out of her boyfriend's car and had no way home. I said, "Pushed out of a car! Are you okay?!" She said she didn't know.

I asked her to stand up if she could, and she did with little effort. Well, at least she was moving all right, and I couldn't see any outward signs of trauma. I began to suspect her of lying about the car deal. She seemed really out of sorts too. Maybe high on something. Who knows in this town! Well, things seemed odd, at best, but I figured I could at least get her home. I mean, after the last week plus of weirdness, this wasn't too far out of the ordinary for me. She steadied herself on my arm as I pushed my bicycle with the other, and we started out down the side walk.

I asked her again about the car, since it seemed rather incredible that she could have been dumped out of a moving car without injury. Well, it seemed the car had been at a stop when she was shoved out. Okay.......maybe she's legit, I am thinking now. Well, apparently she had broke the news that she was pregnant. Okay......now I'm upset and concerned!

I felt really bad for this gal now and was determined to see her get home. I kept telling her it would be okay- we'd get there- don't worry about me. At one point she tugged me to a stop and asked, "Are you an angel?" Hmmm.....I shrugged that off. I was taken aback. Surely this was the oddest thing anybody had ever said to me. I just wanted to keep moving, but I felt an odd feeling inside me when she asked that question. Then, in an instant, all hell broke loose.

Red lights were flashing all around us. An intercom voice said, "Put your hands where we can see them and move away from each other! Slowly!" A blinding light was in our eyes. It was two squad cars and I could see men moving cautiously towards us. Well, I was confused! What the........... And then I was answering questions. "No sir, I don't know her name. No, I have no idea why she was there. I was just trying to help her." Meanwhile, I could hear her upset pleas to not bother me. That I had nothing to do with the deal. I told the cop my story, and then he asked that I just stay put for a bit while they pieced the story together from the young women's side. I agreed to stand still and wait.

Maybe it was ten minutes, I don't know, but it seemed like an hour. What would happen now? Would I be arrested? Would I be taken in? I stood there and then after that excruciatingly long wait, a cop ambled back towards me. He said, "Well, it's obvious to us you had nothing to do with her and what happened to her, so we're going to let you go. But, I suggest you head straight home!" he stated firmly. I said, "Don't worry about that, Sir!" And with that, I mounted up. As I pedaled away, I heard the young lady say thanks. I waved goodbye.

As I started across the street to hit the last couple of miles to the house I was freaked, amazed, happy, and wired all at once. I swore I would get home as fast as I could. I didn't want anymore weirdness on this night, as I figured I had burned through all my "good luck cards" already. I passed through quiet city streets quickly, reached my house, and hit my bed still breathing hard. I was at home.

It was all over. Some welcome home!
______________________________________________________________________________

Yes.......that happened. I never really found out what happened to the young lady. We watched the newspaper at work for any news, and we only discovered a report a few days later, basically telling us what I already knew. The young man who pushed her out of the car was being sought by the police, and there was no further update. Curiously, it was reported that the police were summoned because the young lady, desperate as she was, had been knocking on doors, crying for help. Apparently the residents were scared and reported her to the authorities. She, having no further recourse, threw herself into the grass, having given up on finding anyone to help her, and that is where I found her. That was the end of her story as far as I ever knew it.

But it wasn't the end of my story. Next week I will lay the outline out for the next series- "The Story Of Guitar Ted". This will be about bicycles.......kind of. It will be about my background. It will be personal at times. It will fill in a lot of gaps about my past that many of you are not aware of. It will, maybe, help you see why I did things the way I have done them in the recent past. I hope you will join me on the journey of a different kind.

The Touring Series: A Welcome Home Party

This is the final post in the "Touring Series" Thank you for following along! Next week I'll pick up with new entries which will fill in the time between this tour and the first Trans Iowa. Look for an outline of what to expect next week. 

This entry isn't really part of the "Race Against Death Tour" proper, but since it is having to do with that tour, and since a significant event happened along with it, I have always thought of this event as the "period' at the end of the story of this Tour. With that, I hope that you enjoy this entry and will stick around for the next series. Thanks! Now, on with the last chapter.......
 
With the "Race Against Death Tour" over and done with, a few days after arriving at home a party was thrown in honor of the three travelers at the home of their boss from the bike shop.....
______________________________________________________________________________

August 19th, 1995: With the tour behind us we went back to our "regular" lives at the bike shop. It was still pretty busy, being August and all. I slipped right back into the regular routine. Saturday after work was going to be a big party at Tom's house for our return home. More of an excuse for a party, rather than a real reason, but what the heck, ya know?

So I decided to ride my bike over since I planned on having a few beers and escaping the notice of "The Law" on my bicycle after being "under the influence" was easier on two wheels under my own power. So it was that I pedaled over and found the party just beginning. It was just like any other gathering for me. I never was too adept at being "in the flow" of a party with a bunch of people, and this time was no different. Troy and Ryan were there, of course, but I didn't really connect with them.  I sat around, made a few comments, and had my fair share of beer. Later in the evening, I decided to bug out. I wasn't really feeling it.

And to be honest, it was an anti-climatic deal anyway. I was done with the most exciting thing I had ever done on a bicycle with no prospects of anything around the corner, an empty house, and no one to share my experiences with. WooHoo! Yeah.....big deal and all. So I turned the ol' Mongoose towards home and waved goodbye.

Now in those days, I didn't ride much with a light. I usually went at a fairly easy pace in the dark and just took it easy. We had bike paths, so staying out of harms way was easy to figure out. Back streets and bike paths all the way home, and I'd be in the sack trying to forget about all of this. Or so I thought. Turned out that this last hurrah for the tour had a pretty weird punctuation mark!

My plan was to hit the main bike path through George Wyth State Park, link up to the East Lake Trail, which would dump me out near the San Souci bridge. Then some industrial area back streets would guide me to my neighborhood and home. About a ten mile ride in all. It started out just grand. No wind, coolish temperatures, and plenty of street lights to guide me on the way into Geo. Wyth. That's where the speeds were dropped down really low. Darkness in that canopied trail was thick and it was hard to see. That being gotten through, I figured it was a no-brainer now the rest of the way in. That is until I got to the start of the Sans Souci bridge.

I heard crying. Crying like a young ladies cry, and it was saying, "Please help me!" between heavy sobs. I stopped to make sure I was hearing this for real. Yep! No doubt about it, and I could tell it was coming from the direction of the grassy sided dike that lined the river here. I dismounted my bike in search of the source of this crying. Well, it didn't take long to find it. A young woman laying in the grass. She looked to be a teenager. Maybe in her very early 20's at best. I told her I wasn't going to hurt her as she shrank away from me at first. I said I only wanted to know if she needed help. She sat up and said yes, she did need help. She had been pushed out of her boyfriend's car and had no way home. I said, "Pushed out of a car! Are you okay?!" She said she didn't know.

I asked her to stand up if she could, and she did with little effort. Well, at least she was moving all right, and I couldn't see any outward signs of trauma. I began to suspect her of lying about the car deal. She seemed really out of sorts too. Maybe high on something. Who knows in this town! Well, things seemed odd, at best, but I figured I could at least get her home. I mean, after the last week plus of weirdness, this wasn't too far out of the ordinary for me. She steadied herself on my arm as I pushed my bicycle with the other, and we started out down the side walk.

I asked her again about the car, since it seemed rather incredible that she could have been dumped out of a moving car without injury. Well, it seemed the car had been at a stop when she was shoved out. Okay.......maybe she's legit, I am thinking now. Well, apparently she had broke the news that she was pregnant. Okay......now I'm upset and concerned!

I felt really bad for this gal now and was determined to see her get home. I kept telling her it would be okay- we'd get there- don't worry about me. At one point she tugged me to a stop and asked, "Are you an angel?" Hmmm.....I shrugged that off. I was taken aback. Surely this was the oddest thing anybody had ever said to me. I just wanted to keep moving, but I felt an odd feeling inside me when she asked that question. Then, in an instant, all hell broke loose.

Red lights were flashing all around us. An intercom voice said, "Put your hands where we can see them and move away from each other! Slowly!" A blinding light was in our eyes. It was two squad cars and I could see men moving cautiously towards us. Well, I was confused! What the........... And then I was answering questions. "No sir, I don't know her name. No, I have no idea why she was there. I was just trying to help her." Meanwhile, I could hear her upset pleas to not bother me. That I had nothing to do with the deal. I told the cop my story, and then he asked that I just stay put for a bit while they pieced the story together from the young women's side. I agreed to stand still and wait.

Maybe it was ten minutes, I don't know, but it seemed like an hour. What would happen now? Would I be arrested? Would I be taken in? I stood there and then after that excruciatingly long wait, a cop ambled back towards me. He said, "Well, it's obvious to us you had nothing to do with her and what happened to her, so we're going to let you go. But, I suggest you head straight home!" he stated firmly. I said, "Don't worry about that, Sir!" And with that, I mounted up. As I pedaled away, I heard the young lady say thanks. I waved goodbye.

As I started across the street to hit the last couple of miles to the house I was freaked, amazed, happy, and wired all at once. I swore I would get home as fast as I could. I didn't want anymore weirdness on this night, as I figured I had burned through all my "good luck cards" already. I passed through quiet city streets quickly, reached my house, and hit my bed still breathing hard. I was at home.

It was all over. Some welcome home!
______________________________________________________________________________

Yes.......that happened. I never really found out what happened to the young lady. We watched the newspaper at work for any news, and we only discovered a report a few days later, basically telling us what I already knew. The young man who pushed her out of the car was being sought by the police, and there was no further update. Curiously, it was reported that the police were summoned because the young lady, desperate as she was, had been knocking on doors, crying for help. Apparently the residents were scared and reported her to the authorities. She, having no further recourse, threw herself into the grass, having given up on finding anyone to help her, and that is where I found her. That was the end of her story as far as I ever knew it.

But it wasn't the end of my story. Next week I will lay the outline out for the next series- "The Story Of Guitar Ted". This will be about bicycles.......kind of. It will be about my background. It will be personal at times. It will fill in a lot of gaps about my past that many of you are not aware of. It will, maybe, help you see why I did things the way I have done them in the recent past. I hope you will join me on the journey of a different kind.

The Touring Series: The Load Out

A Guitar Ted Productions series

 Thanks for joining me again on another adventure in "The Touring Series". This tour was dubbed the "Race Against Death Tour". This tour occurred in August of 1995. The three participants, Ryan, Troy, and your's truly, left from Cedar Falls, Iowa to try and get to Winter Park, Colorado in two weeks. Here I am reproducing the tale, mostly as it was posted on the blog in 2009. There are some new edits and additions. I also will add new remarks and memories where appropriate at the end of each post. 

 Once again, there were no cell phones, internet, social media platforms, or digital cameras in use by we tourers in 1995. I will post images where I can, but this tour wasn't well documented in images, so there probably will be very few sprinkled throughout. A modern image will be used only where it depicts things I want to clarify, like where we were in that part of the tour via a map image, or the like.
 
The "Touring Series" appears today and next Sunday then it ends. Look for past entries by scrolling back to a previous Sunday's post, or type in "Touring Series" in the search box to find more. In two weeks a continuation of the time between this tour and Trans Iowa starts.         


After putting in 21.13 miles just dinking around the Black Hills on Day 9, "The Race Against Death Tour" makes its final short ride into Hill City on Day 10.....
_________________________________________________________________________

August 16th, 1995: Today is the day.

 We only have to pack up one last time for a short ride into Hill City to meet Ryan's Dad at the Conoco station by 9am. As we get moving, the conversation is non-existent, other than the asking for details about the pick up. A solemn air hangs over us three travelers. It is in stark contradiction to the feeling everyone else around us has, as it is another picture perfect day in the Black Hills.

I stopped and took one last look down the drive of Rafter J Bar Ranch, then it was time to go.

As we roll out of Rafter J-Bar Ranch for the last time, a bittersweet feeling comes over me, as I remember all the years before when I was here as a child. The last day and a half were fantastic and the best of the tour. It was hard to know it was over.

Then I turned to follow Ryan and Troy down the long driveway as they have gone out of sight already. It seems as though the uncomfortable feelings are better put behind them as quickly as possible.

In fact, they are motoring along at a fair clip as I dangle off the back. What's the hurry? We had plenty of time to make our rendezvous and I was enjoying these last miles for all they were worth. Watching folks getting ready for fall. Seeing the local high school football team practicing for opening day. All the little things were in sharper focus for me today.

This is the day.

We arrive at the Conoco station and Troy goes to find a phone. Ryan looks for some grub to chew on, and I sit by the bikes to guard them one last time. It seemed like we were sitting there forever waiting for something that might not happen. I felt a bit of anxiety. What if we have to stay another night? Money was tight, I was almost out. I could only afford a few Cokes for the ride home. Man! It seemed like the minutes were taking hours.

This was the day.

Then Ryan's Dad arrived in his car pulling a white aluminum box trailer. Greetings, some small talk, then we loaded the bikes in the trailer, and we sat down for a 12 hour ride back home. This is going to be a long day.

The familiar sites of home now brought reality into sharp focus. (Image of the Ice House Museum)

The ride was uneventful. I figured we were like a band on the road. Traveling to another show. I thought of Jackson Browne's "The Load Out". Somehow it seemed appropriate. I was wishing we could "play just a little bit longer" but we couldn't.

Today was that day.

That 12 hours was like a foggy memory. It seemed surreal. Then familiar sights bring a sharper focus as we got closer to our home territory. Finally, we reached the outskirts of Cedar Falls and I saw the twinkling lights of the city. The plan was to get dropped off at our boss' house. Then we were going our separate ways. Tom was there, he had a big smile, as usual. He was excited to hear about our adventures, but Troy and Ryan were ready to get home, and I was left to sip a few beers and give Tom the lowdown on the highlights. 

Eventually it was time for me to leave and I turned my bike towards home. I rode it through the black of night after promising that I would attend a "welcome home party" that upcoming Saturday night at Tom's place. It was pretty lonely on that ride, but not as lonely as that empty house I stepped into that night.   

And that was the end of the day. The day the tour ended.
___________________________________________________________________________

Leaving South Dakota via a car was......weird. After being bicycle dependant for ten days, we loaded up our rigs into the corner of a small, aluminum box trailer and shut the door. It seemed all wrong. I crawled into the back seat of the vehicle we were to ride home in. I was pretty much left alone to my thoughts. Ryan and his father didn't have a very conversational relationship, and so we felt kind of uncomfortable with that, as Troy and I weren't familiar with Ryan's Dad at all.

Then we reached home, and of course, Ryan took off right away with his father. Troy had his wife, who was anxious to see him, pick him up not minutes later. I wasn't in any hurry to get home. I had nothing there awaiting me besides an empty house.

As for me, I had work the following day, as Tom said I could come in despite the fact I had planned on having the rest of that week off. I was happy to have that to look forward to, and I think Tom knew that somehow. But as I said, he made me promise to come to the "welcome home" party. I didn't really want anything to do with it, but whatever. I supposed there was no harm in going. What I didn't know was that there was one last bizarre thing left to experience.

Next Week: The "Welcome Home Party" and a weird encounter.

The Touring Series: The Load Out

A Guitar Ted Productions series

 Thanks for joining me again on another adventure in "The Touring Series". This tour was dubbed the "Race Against Death Tour". This tour occurred in August of 1995. The three participants, Ryan, Troy, and your's truly, left from Cedar Falls, Iowa to try and get to Winter Park, Colorado in two weeks. Here I am reproducing the tale, mostly as it was posted on the blog in 2009. There are some new edits and additions. I also will add new remarks and memories where appropriate at the end of each post. 

 Once again, there were no cell phones, internet, social media platforms, or digital cameras in use by we tourers in 1995. I will post images where I can, but this tour wasn't well documented in images, so there probably will be very few sprinkled throughout. A modern image will be used only where it depicts things I want to clarify, like where we were in that part of the tour via a map image, or the like.
 
The "Touring Series" appears today and next Sunday then it ends. Look for past entries by scrolling back to a previous Sunday's post, or type in "Touring Series" in the search box to find more. In two weeks a continuation of the time between this tour and Trans Iowa starts.         


After putting in 21.13 miles just dinking around the Black Hills on Day 9, "The Race Against Death Tour" makes its final short ride into Hill City on Day 10.....
_________________________________________________________________________

August 16th, 1995: Today is the day.

 We only have to pack up one last time for a short ride into Hill City to meet Ryan's Dad at the Conoco station by 9am. As we get moving, the conversation is non-existent, other than the asking for details about the pick up. A solemn air hangs over us three travelers. It is in stark contradiction to the feeling everyone else around us has, as it is another picture perfect day in the Black Hills.

I stopped and took one last look down the drive of Rafter J Bar Ranch, then it was time to go.

As we roll out of Rafter J-Bar Ranch for the last time, a bittersweet feeling comes over me, as I remember all the years before when I was here as a child. The last day and a half were fantastic and the best of the tour. It was hard to know it was over.

Then I turned to follow Ryan and Troy down the long driveway as they have gone out of sight already. It seems as though the uncomfortable feelings are better put behind them as quickly as possible.

In fact, they are motoring along at a fair clip as I dangle off the back. What's the hurry? We had plenty of time to make our rendezvous and I was enjoying these last miles for all they were worth. Watching folks getting ready for fall. Seeing the local high school football team practicing for opening day. All the little things were in sharper focus for me today.

This is the day.

We arrive at the Conoco station and Troy goes to find a phone. Ryan looks for some grub to chew on, and I sit by the bikes to guard them one last time. It seemed like we were sitting there forever waiting for something that might not happen. I felt a bit of anxiety. What if we have to stay another night? Money was tight, I was almost out. I could only afford a few Cokes for the ride home. Man! It seemed like the minutes were taking hours.

This was the day.

Then Ryan's Dad arrived in his car pulling a white aluminum box trailer. Greetings, some small talk, then we loaded the bikes in the trailer, and we sat down for a 12 hour ride back home. This is going to be a long day.

The familiar sites of home now brought reality into sharp focus. (Image of the Ice House Museum)

The ride was uneventful. I figured we were like a band on the road. Traveling to another show. I thought of Jackson Browne's "The Load Out". Somehow it seemed appropriate. I was wishing we could "play just a little bit longer" but we couldn't.

Today was that day.

That 12 hours was like a foggy memory. It seemed surreal. Then familiar sights bring a sharper focus as we got closer to our home territory. Finally, we reached the outskirts of Cedar Falls and I saw the twinkling lights of the city. The plan was to get dropped off at our boss' house. Then we were going our separate ways. Tom was there, he had a big smile, as usual. He was excited to hear about our adventures, but Troy and Ryan were ready to get home, and I was left to sip a few beers and give Tom the lowdown on the highlights. 

Eventually it was time for me to leave and I turned my bike towards home. I rode it through the black of night after promising that I would attend a "welcome home party" that upcoming Saturday night at Tom's place. It was pretty lonely on that ride, but not as lonely as that empty house I stepped into that night.   

And that was the end of the day. The day the tour ended.
___________________________________________________________________________

Leaving South Dakota via a car was......weird. After being bicycle dependant for ten days, we loaded up our rigs into the corner of a small, aluminum box trailer and shut the door. It seemed all wrong. I crawled into the back seat of the vehicle we were to ride home in. I was pretty much left alone to my thoughts. Ryan and his father didn't have a very conversational relationship, and so we felt kind of uncomfortable with that, as Troy and I weren't familiar with Ryan's Dad at all.

Then we reached home, and of course, Ryan took off right away with his father. Troy had his wife, who was anxious to see him, pick him up not minutes later. I wasn't in any hurry to get home. I had nothing there awaiting me besides an empty house.

As for me, I had work the following day, as Tom said I could come in despite the fact I had planned on having the rest of that week off. I was happy to have that to look forward to, and I think Tom knew that somehow. But as I said, he made me promise to come to the "welcome home" party. I didn't really want anything to do with it, but whatever. I supposed there was no harm in going. What I didn't know was that there was one last bizarre thing left to experience.

Next Week: The "Welcome Home Party" and a weird encounter.

The Touring Series: A Day At Sylvan Lake

 

A Guitar Ted productions series

 Thanks for joining me again on another adventure in "The Touring Series". This tour was dubbed the "Race Against Death Tour". This tour occurred in August of 1995. The three participants, Ryan, Troy, and your's truly, left from Cedar Falls, Iowa to try and get to Winter Park, Colorado in two weeks. Here I am reproducing the tale, mostly as it was posted on the blog in 2009. There are some new edits and additions. I also will add new remarks and memories where appropriate at the end of each post. 

 Once again, there were no cell phones, internet, social media platforms, or digital cameras in use by we tourers in 1995. I will post images where I can, but this tour wasn't well documented in images, so there probably will be very few sprinkled throughout. A modern image will be used only where it depicts things I want to clarify, like where we were in that part of the tour via a map image, or the like.
 
The "Touring Series" will appear every Sunday until it ends. There will be two more weeks. Look for past entries by scrolling back to a previous Sunday's post, or type in "Touring Series" in the search box to find more. 

"The Race Against Death Tour" is camped out at the Rafter J-Bar Ranch.........
___________________________________________________

August 15, 1995: After doing a measly 27.6 miles the day before, and hanging out the rest of the day, we were all pretty refreshed and rested considering all the brutal riding and weather we'd seen so far on this trip. The weather here in the Black Hills was optimum. Cooler than we'd had, sunny, and not at all windy. In fact, you could say it was about perfect. We decided to hit up Hill City for breakfast and we rolled the short way into town to find a decent place to eat. We seemed to be oddballs, outcasts, and drifters to the local populace. I suppose "touristas" were all treated this way, but as we were from a non-tourist destination, we didn't quite "get it", and we were a bit put off by the attitudes we seemed to be attracting.

We eventually settled on a place and ate. It was nice to not be in a hurry, but after so may days of hustling, it felt weird too. We ate our breakfasts and the we went and ambled about the town a bit. I recall walking in one place that was kind of a tourist trap joint. I don't remeber much about it other than that they had a Fender Bandmaster amplifier head for sale. I always wished later that I would have found a way to buy that......

After taking our leisure we had decided that the Sylvan Lake option was our best bet . Especially in regards to Troy's knee. It was feeling better, but he didn't want to stress it out climbing all the hills around here and we really didn't have a lot of time. Especially since we goofed off all morning. So off we went in search of the Needles Highway and Sylvan Lake.

Ryan using the rock climbing shoes he had packed for over a week from Iowa at Sylvan lake.

The climb up started not far from where we had camped. It was sort of gradual for about a half mile, then we saw them. Switch backs! Real, honest to goodness switch backs! It was pretty amazing to climb up this road. It went on for six miles like this, and then we saw the turn off to Sylvan Lake right as things leveled out a bit.

The turn off was lined with cars waiting to get in, so we three just fell in line. Waiting our turns, we chatted and laughed. It was a relaxing, fun time with no pressure. Not like we normally had on the bikes up to this point. When we got within eyesight of the Ranger's hut, we were waved up. We looked around like, "Who? Us?!", and we went around the cars of scowling faces. We were told by the Ranger at the hut that bicycles get in for free. No need to wait in line to pay! Yes! Bicycle benefits! Me likey!

Once we entered the park, the awe inspiring landscape of Sylvan Lake took us in, and we began to cruise around checking out the place. We saw rock climbers and hikers everywhere. The spires of rock jutting straight up out of the lake were like something out of a sci-fi movie set. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before, nor since then.

Ryan had his rock climbing shoes in his pannier, just in case he saw a place in the Rocky Mountains where he could spend time trying them out. Well, we weren't going to make it out there now, but this would certainly do! Troy tried a little bit, but I was content to watch. After Ryan had his fill of that, we relaxed a bit, got some photos, and decided to head back down the mountain for the campground and supper.

The six mile screaming downhill of switch backs was pretty hairy. Ryan almost rolled a tire, and my bike was skipping across the pavement on the skinny roadie tires. I was used to fat mountain bike treads, not these 35mm Avocets! I went as fast as I could, but Troy and Ryan had better handling bikes and left me in their dust. Oh well! It only took 13 minutes to descend that 6 miles, so it wasn't long until I caught back on at the bottom.

The three "Race Against Death" tourists- (L-R) Ryan, GT, Troy

Back at the campground, we hit up another game of hacky-sack, then cooked up our last meal on the road. The next day, Ryan's Dad was heading out to meet us at 9am in Hill City to pick us up with a trailer for our bikes to ride in. The end started to settle in on our minds. This trip would be over soon, and we all retreated into silence as the night time advanced.

I suppose it is hard to explain what one feels after such an ordeal. Especially when you sense a bond with your fellow travelers that goes beyond your comfort level to express. Silence becomes your only option at that point, I suppose, because you know you are heading down a different path once the fellowship is broken.

At any rate, we hit the tent for the last time on "The Race Against Death Tour".
____________________________________________________________________________


I look back at this now after so many years and realize how precious that day was. I think I had an inkling of the importance of it even then. I didn't want the day to end, as I recall. It was so heavy a feeling that, for all intents and purposes, I don't really remember anything after running down that mountain on our bicycles. That is something that seems fresh in my mind yet. Perhaps that was the defacto "end" of the trip in my mind. I don't know.

Another practical way to look at this was that it would have been the "end" no matter what. Troy's knee issues notwithstanding, we were all out of cash. Without money, we weren't going anywhere much beyond where we had made it. Those times were different. We had a couple of credit cards, but the reality of those days was that cash was king. Small, out of the way places, weren't always up on accepting credit cards, especially from three young vagrants on bicycles.

It was not sinking in yet at the end of this day that I had a very different reality coming to slap me in the face in about 24 hours time. My world was about to change back to reality, and fast.

Next Week: The Load Out

The Touring Series: A Day At Sylvan Lake

 

A Guitar Ted productions series

 Thanks for joining me again on another adventure in "The Touring Series". This tour was dubbed the "Race Against Death Tour". This tour occurred in August of 1995. The three participants, Ryan, Troy, and your's truly, left from Cedar Falls, Iowa to try and get to Winter Park, Colorado in two weeks. Here I am reproducing the tale, mostly as it was posted on the blog in 2009. There are some new edits and additions. I also will add new remarks and memories where appropriate at the end of each post. 

 Once again, there were no cell phones, internet, social media platforms, or digital cameras in use by we tourers in 1995. I will post images where I can, but this tour wasn't well documented in images, so there probably will be very few sprinkled throughout. A modern image will be used only where it depicts things I want to clarify, like where we were in that part of the tour via a map image, or the like.
 
The "Touring Series" will appear every Sunday until it ends. There will be two more weeks. Look for past entries by scrolling back to a previous Sunday's post, or type in "Touring Series" in the search box to find more. 

"The Race Against Death Tour" is camped out at the Rafter J-Bar Ranch.........
___________________________________________________

August 15, 1995: After doing a measly 27.6 miles the day before, and hanging out the rest of the day, we were all pretty refreshed and rested considering all the brutal riding and weather we'd seen so far on this trip. The weather here in the Black Hills was optimum. Cooler than we'd had, sunny, and not at all windy. In fact, you could say it was about perfect. We decided to hit up Hill City for breakfast and we rolled the short way into town to find a decent place to eat. We seemed to be oddballs, outcasts, and drifters to the local populace. I suppose "touristas" were all treated this way, but as we were from a non-tourist destination, we didn't quite "get it", and we were a bit put off by the attitudes we seemed to be attracting.

We eventually settled on a place and ate. It was nice to not be in a hurry, but after so may days of hustling, it felt weird too. We ate our breakfasts and the we went and ambled about the town a bit. I recall walking in one place that was kind of a tourist trap joint. I don't remeber much about it other than that they had a Fender Bandmaster amplifier head for sale. I always wished later that I would have found a way to buy that......

After taking our leisure we had decided that the Sylvan Lake option was our best bet . Especially in regards to Troy's knee. It was feeling better, but he didn't want to stress it out climbing all the hills around here and we really didn't have a lot of time. Especially since we goofed off all morning. So off we went in search of the Needles Highway and Sylvan Lake.

Ryan using the rock climbing shoes he had packed for over a week from Iowa at Sylvan lake.

The climb up started not far from where we had camped. It was sort of gradual for about a half mile, then we saw them. Switch backs! Real, honest to goodness switch backs! It was pretty amazing to climb up this road. It went on for six miles like this, and then we saw the turn off to Sylvan Lake right as things leveled out a bit.

The turn off was lined with cars waiting to get in, so we three just fell in line. Waiting our turns, we chatted and laughed. It was a relaxing, fun time with no pressure. Not like we normally had on the bikes up to this point. When we got within eyesight of the Ranger's hut, we were waved up. We looked around like, "Who? Us?!", and we went around the cars of scowling faces. We were told by the Ranger at the hut that bicycles get in for free. No need to wait in line to pay! Yes! Bicycle benefits! Me likey!

Once we entered the park, the awe inspiring landscape of Sylvan Lake took us in, and we began to cruise around checking out the place. We saw rock climbers and hikers everywhere. The spires of rock jutting straight up out of the lake were like something out of a sci-fi movie set. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before, nor since then.

Ryan had his rock climbing shoes in his pannier, just in case he saw a place in the Rocky Mountains where he could spend time trying them out. Well, we weren't going to make it out there now, but this would certainly do! Troy tried a little bit, but I was content to watch. After Ryan had his fill of that, we relaxed a bit, got some photos, and decided to head back down the mountain for the campground and supper.

The six mile screaming downhill of switch backs was pretty hairy. Ryan almost rolled a tire, and my bike was skipping across the pavement on the skinny roadie tires. I was used to fat mountain bike treads, not these 35mm Avocets! I went as fast as I could, but Troy and Ryan had better handling bikes and left me in their dust. Oh well! It only took 13 minutes to descend that 6 miles, so it wasn't long until I caught back on at the bottom.

The three "Race Against Death" tourists- (L-R) Ryan, GT, Troy

Back at the campground, we hit up another game of hacky-sack, then cooked up our last meal on the road. The next day, Ryan's Dad was heading out to meet us at 9am in Hill City to pick us up with a trailer for our bikes to ride in. The end started to settle in on our minds. This trip would be over soon, and we all retreated into silence as the night time advanced.

I suppose it is hard to explain what one feels after such an ordeal. Especially when you sense a bond with your fellow travelers that goes beyond your comfort level to express. Silence becomes your only option at that point, I suppose, because you know you are heading down a different path once the fellowship is broken.

At any rate, we hit the tent for the last time on "The Race Against Death Tour".
____________________________________________________________________________


I look back at this now after so many years and realize how precious that day was. I think I had an inkling of the importance of it even then. I didn't want the day to end, as I recall. It was so heavy a feeling that, for all intents and purposes, I don't really remember anything after running down that mountain on our bicycles. That is something that seems fresh in my mind yet. Perhaps that was the defacto "end" of the trip in my mind. I don't know.

Another practical way to look at this was that it would have been the "end" no matter what. Troy's knee issues notwithstanding, we were all out of cash. Without money, we weren't going anywhere much beyond where we had made it. Those times were different. We had a couple of credit cards, but the reality of those days was that cash was king. Small, out of the way places, weren't always up on accepting credit cards, especially from three young vagrants on bicycles.

It was not sinking in yet at the end of this day that I had a very different reality coming to slap me in the face in about 24 hours time. My world was about to change back to reality, and fast.

Next Week: The Load Out