Southern hospitality

I ended up finding a host for the stormy weekend on warmshowers.org. The host was in Stillwater Oklahoma and I figured I had plenty of time before the storm started, Friday was beautiful and sunny. I stopped in a little town called Guthrie filled with old fashioned brick buildings and stopped at a cool little cycle shop that looked like it had been there for a while. There I finally found some front racks for panniers so I could take some of the weight off the back of my bike and make a little room. It took a good 2 hours to get these things fitted on. The owner, a real nice older guy named Kent offered his help in between customers as we tried a million different things to get the racks on around the quick release for the front wheel. We finally got it on allright and I shook hands with Kent and went on my way. He gave me a new route to get to Stillwater that took me by some beautiful cliffs and a huge river.

I got into Stillwater Oklahoma as it was starting to rain and cycled with accumulating frustration trying to find my host's house. I eventually got to it(on the very edge of town) and met Susan Walker and her husband Jeff. I changed into dry clothes and sat down to a delicious lentil dinner prepared by Jeff. I learned all about Susan's many cycling tours and chatted with her and jeff before showering and falling asleep. I awoke to see the woods that the house overlooks covered in snow, with snow still coming down. Susan offered for me to stay they entire weekend and wait out the weather, sounded like a good idea. So I hung around, slept a lot, and talked with Jeff about the possible benefits and follies of taking time off of school. Susan toured me around town when the roads got better, showing me the college and buying me a sweet eskimo Joe's shirt, like the black dog eskimo joe's is a restaurant thats more famous for its clothes than its food, but it has a much more creative logo than the black dog (a black dog).

I left monday with most of the snow melted and headed to Tulsa to stay with someone that Susan knew from a past cycle tour. The route took me through some nice woods and I caught the bike trail when I got into Tulsa. The bike trail is the best I've ever been on, it runs along the arkansas river, goes for like 50 miles, and has separate walking and cycling lanes in parts of it. I met up with Sylvia and Tom at their beautiful old house in one of the historic districts. I showered up and ate dinner outside with Sylvia and her adorable dogs (both found by them as strays), had some beers, and talked all about cycle touring before walking down to her husbands bicycle shop to catch some music. Every monday night Tom and some friends get together in the shop and jam together, it was a real treat, it was a circle of about 7 guys playing guitars and an elderly lady playing a mean tenor banjo. I feebly attempted to play along but needless to say these guys were a little ahead of me skillwise so I found myself shyly picking at my banjo and taking in their music. I walked back with Tom and heard about his trip from Tulsa up to Washington then down to venice beach L.A. when he was 18. I lounged in their hot tub for a bit before laying down and enjoying my 4th night in a row sleeping on a bed.

Tuesday morning I had Tom take a look at my bike because the back wheel was loose, right away he noticed several things wrong with the bike and sent me down to his shop. There I met Mark who tuned up my bike and gave me a new back tire. I forgot how smooth that bike can ride, I got back on the bike trail and took it all the way to the next town. Sylvia had printed out some directions with the new bicycle feature on google maps to get to her friend Joel's in Muscogee. Google should keep its ass out of cycling directions, it had me turning every mile and going on some winding route so I eventually ditched them and asked at a liquor store how to get there on secondary highways.

I made it into Muscogee and called Joel, he picked me up at a gas station and brought me to his place. I showered up and we went out to a nice buffet where we stuffed our faces til past closing time and talked about all sorts of stuff. Joel turned out to be a really cool guy, he worked for city organizing big events (concerts, bike rides etc.) and had a passion for writing. We went back to his house and watched the end of this middle eastern movie about this woman getting wrongfully stoned to death, I only saw about 20 minutes of it but it was a well made 20 minutes.

I left for Fayetteville the next day, Joel left me with a copy of On the Road by Jack Kerouac and some advice to avoid making a life out of something you don't enjoy. I got on 62 which would take me right to Fayetteville. I stopped at a gas station a little ways down the road for a cup of coffee and hung around long enough to get myself disoriented. I left going the wrong way (back to Muscogee) and didnt realize it until 10 miles later when I saw the same general store accross from the same antique store I noticed leaving town. After much cursing I turned around and headed back towards Arkansas. The scenery became more and more rural as I approached Ozark country. I knew it was supposed to rain that night and found a great abandoned mobile home to stay the night.

I ended up hanging out til the afternoon the next day as the rain lasted longer than I expected, I killed time reading my new book (I dig), as well as a local newspaper from 1999. Just as I was finishing a 10 year old Dear Annie letter about a deadbeat dad who divorced his wife and started a new family, refusing to pay child support and not telling his new family about his daughter, the rain began to let up. I quickly got my stuff together and left, hoping Quagmire in Colorado found justice. The ride into Arkansas was beautiful, 62 turned into a windy mountainous road taking me through woods, over clear creeks, and down valleys with hillbilly shacks scattered around. I made it into Fayetteville as it was getting dark and got picked up by my uncle Tim and cousin Hunter.

I had a great weekend with them and my aunt Rebecca, I rarely get to see them and really enjoy them all. It turned out to be spring break for the high school and college so both Tim and Hunter were off. Friday Hunter and I went cycling on the bike trail in town, he showed me a few cool little shops in town including a record/head shop that used to be some kind of theater or something, I picked up a Stephen Malkmus cd and headed back on the trail. We eventually got to the mountain biking portion which severly kicked my ass. I tried to keep up with Hunter and fell off my bike like 5 times, it was a strange transition going from avoiding every little bump on my bike to tearing down hills over giant roonts and jutting rocks on a mountain bike. Saturday Hunter and I went to a baseball game with his uncle, I've never been a big baseball fan but ended up really enjoying the game, we had great seats and witnessed numerous injuries including an elderly fan getting nailed by a foul ball. We went to a Joe Bonamassa concert in town which was good, full of bluesy songs, sometimes overly long solos, and a different guitar for every song. I lounged around sunday, made a batch of french bread and played around with Tim's super nice banjo.

I got up early the monday to say goodbye to Hunter and Tim and get my stuff ready and my route figured out. I said my goodbyes to Rebecca and headed out a few hours later. The weather got beautiful and even hot as the day went on as I took in more of the beautiful scenery. I made it into Harrison and stopped at an old mill turned Bakery/Cafe to relax after a long day, I stayed til it got dark and headed out under a giant orange full moon. The beautiful night welcomed me back to camping with open arms and I found a nice creek to sleep next to under the bright glow of the moon.

Today was mostly uneventful, I stopped at a buffet for lunch and they gave it to me for free after hearing about my trip, which topped the free restaurant meals I've gotten so far.

I write this from beautiful mountain home Arkansas, I'm off to find a cup of coffee and a place to sleep.

Oklahoma,OK!

Its been a little while, its amazing how many library computers have blogspot blocked.

Lets see, after my last post I biked on through the mountains into the Hondo valley where I biked some time into the night looking for a place to sleep until a cars headlights lit up a small dillapidated house on the opposite side of the road. It was a pretty beat up little place but it was windy as hell out so it beat camping, I dragged my bike in and laid out my sleeping bag on an old spring mattress and dozed off. I woke up in the middle of the night to a squeaking and the sound of something moving around in the basement. I shined my light down to see a skunk looking up at me, I through my tarp over the hole to the basement and laid uneasily awake for a while before I could get back to sleep. I've thought several nights about how I would fight off a bobcat or a coyote if one approached me in my sleep, but I was terrified of this little thing.

The next morning I came to a hill that the locals had been warning me about and slowly made my way up, after less than a mile of biking up hill it flattened out, thinking it was only temporary I kept going expecting a sudden incline. Luckily it remained flat for sometime until it brought me to a 30 mile downhill that shot me right into Roswell, giving me the most distance I've made by 9:30 am yet. I spent some time in Roswell and checked out the Alien museum and research center which was pretty impressive. My conclusion on the Roswell incident? total government cover up, no question.

The next day I awoke to cloudy skies and high winds, i packed my stuff up right away in an attempt to beat the weather, I biked into the wind for about 10 miles until I got to the Kenna general store/post office/only thing in Kenna besides ranches. It started snowing hard soon after. I waited out the storm drinking coffee and chatting with Bob, the retired refinery worker and Vietnam veteran who ran the store. We talked about politics, and the differences between country and city folk, while ignoring the health codes and smoking cigarettes next to the wood stove. I hung out there for about 2 hours when the snow stopped and biked back into the wind.

From there I headed up to Clovis, a city bordering Texas and spent the night at a campground outside the city, I left the next day for Texas.

Texas was flat and smelly, I was only in it for a few days passing through the north part. After Biking all day one day I ended up in Amarillo Texas, and after biking for hours through the city well into the night, it became unclear whether I would make it through any time soon, so I caved and splurged on a 26 dollar motel room with no windows at the Cowboy Motel.

The next day I ended up in Groom Texas which hosted a plethora of abandoned houses, which was perfect because I heard that there might be rain that night. I picked one and settled in, it was a pretty good sized house and randomly had a box of old clothes, I couldn't help but rummage. I found a nice warm flannel shirt and a windbreaker made by Marlboro (yes that Marlboro), set up my sleeping bag and went to sleep.

I woke up to pouring rain the next morning and biked into it for about 10 miles before stopping at a rest stop and learning the rain was supposed to continue all day. I was completely soaked, I had stupidly thrown out my poncho thinking my new jacket was rain proof (it wasn't) and opted to wait out the weather at the rest stop. I spent my day watching the same route 66 video over and over, chatting with truckers, and reading the better part of a sherlock holmes book I found in the house the night before. I met a 13 year old son of a cattle transporter who was hanging out while his dad was sleeping in the truck. He gave me a brownie and a soda and brought me some stuff from the vending machine and told me that he had been to all the states except for new york city and hawaii. When I told him I was from Massachusetts he asked me what state that was in. He also informed me that i could get a footlong sandwich at subway for 5 dollars and a 6 inch for 1 dollar. must be a new deal. he soon said his goodbyes and left me with some spare change as I set up my blanket in the tornado shelter and fell asleep.

I got up early the next day and headed for Oklahoma on a frontage road that ran along the 40.
I made it into Oklahoma 2 days ago, and so far it has been covered in rolling hills and scenic farmland. I found a pair of fuzzy dice on the side of the road and attached them to my bike, then, about 10 feet ahead BAM 10 dollar bill. lucky dice!

Walking into a little diner in Clinton the place fell silent upon my entrance and I could feel everyone staring at me. The wait for my food was a bit uncomtorable until a guy at the table broke the silence and asked me about my trip, soon the whole restaurant was asking me questions and giving me adive on which way to go. I left as the sun was about to go down and headed up the 183, stopping at a gas station in the next town to fill my water bottles and have a cup of coffee. The guy working there was around my age and lacked the southern accent, he seemed very impressed by the trip and we talked for a while. He grew up in Toronto but moved down here 9 years ago when his father bought the store and he made it very clear that he hated the place and couldn't wait to get the hell out. He lived in Clinton and was studying to go to med school at a local college. He gave me a bunch of free coffee because they were closing up but I couldn't spend too long there so I filled up a water bottle with coffee and headed out a few more miles before finding a nice bridge to sleep under.

The weather has been beautiful the past few days, but this weekend is supposed to be stormy and snowy, I sent out a few messages on couchsurfing and warmshowers.org to hopefully find a place to wait out the storm, biking through the rain blows.

oh yeah, and I passed through a town called shamrock the day before saint patricks day and found an unopened keystone light, so I didnt miss out on the holiday completely.

land of enchantment

New Mexico, and I'm back in the mountains.

I had a great week staying with uncle Mike, Prescott is a really cool little college town. We went to some Indian ruins which were pretty impressive. I learned so much about my father's side of the family which was great beacause thats always been such a mysterious part of my heritage, and it was wonderful getting to know my uncle. I left tuesday with my camera (mailed over by my parents) and a ton of new music from my uncles extensive collection on my ipod.

My last days in Arizona were quiet but beautiful, I spent the first night out next to the Roosevelt lake. I met some drunk Indians, "T-Juan" and Jackson "Jackson 5" at a rest area in Safford and received an Apache blessing for my trip which was surprisingly moving despite "T-Juan's" intoxication, I returned the favor with an out of tune banjo song. T-Juan scribbled his address and phone number on my map before saying goodbye and hitching their way back to Bilas. Coming out of a dollar store in Duncan I met an ex heroin addict/travelling magician who offered me a place to stay for the night, I turned him down because I was trying to do another 20 miles that day, but I'm consistently amazed with how friendly strangers have been towards a smelly young man on a bicycle. On the way out of town I found a sweet handmade biking cap on the side of the road, one of those tight ones with the tiny rim, jackpot!

I got a flat tire coming into New Mexico, and after trying to patch it over and over and realizing that my "universal" replacement tube was about a foot long around, a guy in a pickup pulled over and offered me a ride into town. His name was Fred and he was a local railroad worker, he was full of stories and laughs. Along the way I learned that he had been once been posessed by a demonic girlfriend for for several years until his faith healing uncle cured him, he told the story much more interestingly, but I thought it was worth retelling.

I passed by the white sands national park yesterday, miles of huge fine white sand dunes in the middle of the desert, it reminded me of cape cod.

Coming into Alamogordo the mountains looked a bit daunting so I opted for the long route to go around them and get some distance north. Because of the extra distance I decided to do some night biking for the first time. Highway 54 was a quiet highway and it was a very peaceful ride. Riding under the stars was beautiful.

I stopped at a friendly little coffee shop in Carrizozo that had free refills. Chatting with the employees they told me about an israeli girl who had biked through town that was going from nova scotia to guatemala and back, that just blew my mind. A woman was kind enough to pay for my coffee and burrito, I gave my thanks, said my goodbyes and headed east on the 380.

The 380 has been a beautiful mountainous scenic route, it was a steady uphill for about 15 miles, when I spotted the descent I got super excited and threw on my scarf and sunglasses, just to turn around and see I had a flat tire. My 6x thickness thorn resitant tire went flat not from a puncture, but from the valve coming off of the tube. Luckily I had stopped at the Walmart in alamogordo and loaded my pockets with tubes.

I stopped in another coffee shop in the lovely mountain town of Capitan, and they gave me a free slice of pie, I'm going to miss the friendliness of the southwest.

Well I'm off to Roswell