Bicycling across the USA on the Transamerica: Long haul through nowhere Wyoming

Bicycling across the USA on the Transamerica: Long haul through nowhere Wyoming:       86 miles to Dubois, including the grueling seventeen mile climb left me somewhat depleted of my energy reserves.  No matter, another l...

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The last leg home

          So I wouldn't be discovered, I rose earlier than usual, packed up and headed  for the beach bath house.  The man washing down the pavilion was very obliging and took multiple pictures of me out on a small Boardwalk.  I had seen shots of guys holding their bikes over their head. On second thought, let's just do a few normal shoots of me by beach and ocean.  With the sun coming up in the east, an ocean shoot was near impossible but what the heck.  The resulting silhouette did the trick for the folks back home.

       Off I rode to the Cape May ferry where I crossed over to New Jersey.  Another five mile ride brought me to the historic downtown, nice place but packed with tourists. On the way I stopped at another fruit and vegetable stand and picked up a delicious peach.  Great time of year to be on the road with all the fresh produce being harvested.

      From the bus station, I caught a ride to Philadelphia.  The good news was that my bike easily fit in luggage compartment.  The bad news was what happens when I get there. Once in Philly, do I take a bus or a train?  No bus to New London until the next day and I certainly didn't want to end up in NYC for the night.  Good thing I had my bike; I to rode twenty blocks through the city to the 30th street train station.  As a seasoned rider, I easily handled the aggressive drivers.  Over the phone, I learned it was up to the conductor of each train as to whether or not I could bring my train on board.  I pleaded my case to the porters.  Prevailing, one really nice guy, Carl, loaded me and my bike on the elevator and took me down to the tracks.  "Go to section B and get on the last car where the handicap section is.  Offer to pay (bribe) the conductor if you he have to."  Here goes.

The train pulled in and I hustled aboard.  Getting my bike fit into place in the handicap space. I anxiously waited for the conductor.  Great, the train was rolling and I was still on the train.  The junior conductor took my ticket and said he wasn't sure I could take the bike on board.  Once again I pleaded my case and he caved.  Making it past NYC was my next concern.  Luck prevailed and at about 9:00pm the train rolled into New London but not before I had to roll my bike up two cars.  The conductor helped me carry the bike off over a few complaints but I thanked he profusely.  Amtrak is warming up to bikes but not fast enough.

        Pete and Cathy Bergeron picked me up in my truck where I drove to Robinson Street.  Back home after a fabulous life time experience; I need get going in planning my next road trip.  Vietnam?

Cooling my feet in the Atlantic

        The last fifty miles dwindled away even as I fought a moderate headwind. Being a real steamer of a day,  I took several breaks; two veggie stands and a classy convenience store.  For the record, I ate the largest peach I have ever seen, maybe a pound and wonderfully delicious.  Cruising into Lewes, Delaware during rush hour was a little challenging.  Being a mile from the Atlantic, I asserted myself at the intersections and took no BS from overly aggressive drivers.  I have learn how to protect my space and used it very effectively getting through Lewes to the water.

       At long last, there was the Atlantic  within a short walk.  With  helmet and shoes removed, I wove my way  through the sun worshippers and waded in past my ankles.  I looked totally out of place wearing with my ride tights and American flag shirt.  Who cares really, I scanned the sea and beach, pondered my accomplishment and headed back to the bike.  With directions, I found a very nice restaurant with a large wrap around porch bordering a lagoon. Of course, I treated myself to feast which included two IPAs.  The woman seated at the next table was nice enough to take a few photos of me with my iphone.  I posted one on Facebook, sent out a few texts and hit the road for Henlopin State Park.  Bummer, the park campsite was booked but the person at the gate house told me where I could take a shower.  I told him what I had done and, without saying so, he knew I was going to gorilla camp for the night. After showering , I rode down a deserted bike path, scoped out a secluded spot near the ocean and quickly pushed my bike through some high grasses to a place behind some low Pine trees.  I removed my yellow pannier rain covers and stashed them along with my bright orange helmet behind a tree. My rent is up and I hope to go undetected.  

      Tomorrow morning I may take the ferry over to Cape May and begin bicycling north. No sense in hanging around, it is peak season, the area is packed with beach goers and there is no place to stay which fits my budget.

   Now for the trek home in whatever form it may take, no doubt a lot of bicycling.

Another day of good fortune

        Leaving Washington had its moments of frustration.  Gradually the city gave way to the country.  Route 50, though a direct shot  to Annaplolis with a wide shoulder, was a roaring mess of cars three lanes wide. Through Goggle Map I found  a route suitable for me and my machine.  

         Annapolis is a beautiful city/town but a little overdone filled with the usual suspects.  Hold up in Subway while refueling, i had no luck with finding a warmshowers place to stay.  With time on my side, I decided to make an attempt on the Cheasepeake Bay bridge eight or so miles down the road.  No bikes allowed was the catch. One wamershowers person said he had merely set his bike by an entrance ramp to route  50 and hitched a ride over.  I was planning the same as I rode towards the bridge.  Behind me appeared another cyclist out for a spin.  He came along side and after realizing my situation, he offered to get his car and give me a lift over the bridge.  I hung out at a center medium war memorial near where we met. An hour later, David Beavis (an Englishman) appeared with his car, overhead bike rack and a supply. of water and Gatorade.  There is a god.  

He drove me over the bridge as well as the Kents Narrows bridge, another not so fun bridge.  It is amazing the bond bicyclists have with each other. Anyways, God bless the man and I hope I can return the favor some day.

      Once on my way, things became quite rural. Having no map, the sun was my only guide.  Eventually with the help of a driver I flagged down, I had Google Map directions to Tuckahoe Stare Park where I could tent for the night.   As has been the case throughout the trip, the directions were less than perfect. Another Goggle Map check corrected the errors. Traversing over several quaint country roads I arrived at the park.  With very little food, the sun going down and seventy-four miles on the odometer, I was once again rescued. The  park director emerged in his truck from the campsite road.  I waved him down asking for camping details. He pointed the way, followed me over, stored my bike in a shed  and drove me to a store so I could buy dinner. He even gave me a cold Gatorade and a map of Maryland and Delaware which I desperately needed.  My second guardian angel in one day.  Paul Detrich saved the day and I was able to get my tent set up just as the last rays of light faded away.  Washington to the middle of the Eastern Shore in one day.  Hot and tired, I pulled it off.

        Fifty miles to go and I will be swimming in the Atlantic!

The Capital

      One hundred eighty miles of beautiful forests, the Potomac and the Cheasepeake and Ohio Canal, every mile an obstacle course.  The history of the canal from its origins under George Washington to the Civil War battles beginning with John Brown give this canal a special place in our history. I finally emerged from the tree canopy of the canal to see the Washington monument in the distance.  From the woods to the city was amazingly abrupt as I entered the maddening pace of Georgetown minutes after leaving the canal path.  I was separated from John, Aaron and Eli as we all entered at our own pace. For the sixth time I jammed my chain between the chain rings and found a corner to make the necessary repairs and start my search for a place to stay.  Summer in the city without a reservation put me in tight position, nothing new.  My Warmershows app was not yielding  results so I found a bed at the William Penn House (a Quaker Hostel) behind the Capital.  Cyrus was in contact with me as I negotiated my way through the maze of tourists, monuments and traffic.  The hostel was virtually empty so I had the place to myself. After sixty-nine miles of precarious tow paths to the madness of Washington traffic I needed and hour to collect my wits before Cyrus came over.

     Seeing Cyrus for the first time since Christmas was worth the ride into the city. He treated me to a superb dinner with, of course, a few pints of IPA. I am a lucky father to have Cyrus as my son.

    No A/C made for a somewhat restless night but better than being in a tent in the  same heat.  The day started with a Quaker prayer meeting which was essentially total silence for twenty minutes. After a basic breakfast the house provided, I took on a list of things to do, i.e.,picked up medication and maps for the trip, washed my water bottles, bought a new bluetooth  and did my laundry at Cyrus' house. Every day off is more of a regrouping operation.  Nevertheless, Cyrus and  I made a visit to Starbucks in the afternoon and later a restaurant for dinner with an astounding selection of five hundred beers!  Cyrus loves his boutique bourbons; man is that stuff expensive.  I will stick to my plebeian ways of drinking beer. (Always remember, you never  purchase beer, you rent it.)

         Tomorrow, I will negotiate my way out of town via as many bike friendly routes as I can find.  Once out of the city, it is off to Annapolis.  No bikes are allowed on the Cheasepeake Bay bridge so I will need to bum a ride over it somehow.   Another day, another challenge.  I can almost smell the salt water.