Rest Day in Tribune, KS

We didn't plan on taking a day off so soon into our trip, but we are tired and the weather forecast for today is that rain is likely. Our physical condition is fine, but we have ridden nearly 240 miles in 4 days while pulling a heavy load. That translates into an average of 6 hours a day on the bike. In short, our butts and our psyches need a break.

Some of you have asked why we are riding so many miles so early in our trip. Study the map of eastern Colorado and western Kansas and our photos of the scenery along the route. Unless one plans to sleep in a field of wheat stubble, there is no choice. Its a long way between real towns out here.

Tribune is one of those, a town of perhaps 2,000 people in western Kansas. It is obviously dependent on oil and gas, farming, and livestock raising (I have lurking suspicion that yesterday's encounter with the "rotten cheese" truck had something to do with the latter). Tribune appears to thriving, with a number of businesses in addition to the typical cafes, grocery store, etc. The people here have been uniformly nice to us, consistent with the small-town experiences we have had elsewhere.
There no doubt it's a western town. For example, last night as we left the bar where we had dinner (it was taco night, and they were good - all 9 of them!) we saw two other patrons riding away on horses as the sun was setting.

We're staying in a lovely little cottage that is available for rent to cyclists like us. We've not met the owner, only chatted on the phone, but she never asked for a credit card number or the rent in advance. Instead, she simply told us to leave the $ and the key when we depart tomorrow. They may not have many of the things that we enjoy in urban areas, but I don't think anyone here worries about drive-by shootings, home invasions, child abductions, etc.

Tribune scene

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Eads, CO to Tribune, KS

59 miles. The first 28 miles to Sheridan Lake were very hard. The wind chill was in the low 30s when we pulled out of Eads and it didn't seem to warm up much until the afternoon. And there was a quartering wind out of the northeast, so it was very close to a head wind. By the time we struggled into Sheridan Lake we were very tired and discouraged (more about the psychological aspects of long-distance bike touring in a later blog). I seriously thought that we might need to try to flag down a farmer or trucker to give us a lift the remaining 30 miles to Tribune.

Fortunately Sheridan Lake* has a new convenience store/sub shop (adjacent to the auto parts store), the only retail businesses for nearly 60 miles. The owner/clerk was a very friendly young lady who made us fresh sandwiches and hot coffee. She told us that they see a lot of cross-country cyclists in the summer months, most of whom sheepishly admit to 'cheating' by having someone in a vehicle "sag" them (i.e., follow along with them carrying their stuff, giving them a ride when they are tired, etc.)
Duh, no wonder this seems so hard!

*Sheridan Lake is named after the civil war general who supposedly went fishing there once, which is hard to believe since the lake itself is about the size of a typical midwestern farm pond.

The lunch stop re-energized us and the weather improved to the point that we actually enjoyed most of the remaining ride into Tribune. We had already resolved however to take a rest day there, which turned out to be a good idea for other reasons, including: (1) the weather forecast for Tuesday was not good; (2) Tribune is a very nice town; and (3) they have beer here.

While we were stopped for a break near the Kansas border a photographer pulled up to take our picture. He claimed to be an honest-to-God tornado chaser and was very excited as he said he had yesterday photographed the only tornados in the country (don't worry, Mom, they were in Oklahoma). He thought we were foolish for riding alone through the central plains during tornado season, which we thought was a strange comment coming from someone who intentionally tries to FIND tornados.

As we were nearing Tribune a truck coming the other direction went past us smelling like rotting cheese. As the truck blew past us, it swept a trail of dirt and God knows what else over us. I felt something solid fly into my mouth. Despite immediately spitting it out, I spent the next half an hour trying to rinse the disgusting taste away. I have followed bugs before while riding, but this experience was a whole new level of gross.