Flat tires deflate enthusiasm

Wednesday, June 13

I slept at the Sky Vue Hotel in Frisco last night. I did my laundry, ate dinner at a great restaurant called the Frisco Bean, then went back to the hotel and made some calls. Apparently the family was a bit worried.

Since I didn't call in the morning, I was planning on sleeping in a bit. But at 6:30 I turned on the television and saw a forecast for bad weather in Denver, so I got my stuff ready to go as fast as possible.

I left Frisco on a bike trail but soon found myself on a road headed away from the direction of the interstate. So after going down a hill I turned around and went back to Interstate-70, and headed toward the Eisenhower Tunnel.

About three-quarters of the way up to the tunnel it started snowing, which turned into a full blizzard by the time I hit the top. Snow was accumulating on my panniers. I had my cold thumb out for about 15, 20 minutes when a Colorado Department of Transportation guy gave me a ride through the tunnel.

Once on the other side, I took off all my wet clothes and put on my only two dry shirts and my rain jacket, hat, gloves, and helmet and then rode my brakes down the wet, icy road. I stopped in Georgetown, but there was nowhere to eat so I continued to the next exit where I had a sub.

Then I rode a little farther and found myself on the South Lancaster Memorial Bike Trail. Yesterday, I left Rifle fairly late and pulled into a Denny's in Glenwood Springs. I had an ultimate omelet and then found the bike path that goes through Glenwood Canyon. It was absolutely beautiful.

I continued on to Edwards, where I got some rest. Then I started towards Vail. The Vail Pass is around 11,000 feet and was pretty tough. Part of the way up I noticed a paved bike trail to the south so I took it all the way to Frisco. I went through Copper Mountain, expecting to stay there. But there were no hotels so I continued to Frisco.

Rolled into town and booked a room at the first hotel I saw.

Wednesday Night

My shortest day so far, about 62 miles. After I wrote earlier, while sitting under the bridge, I fell asleep. Fortunately, I woke up in time to realize a stream of water was starting to trickle under me.

I put everything I had in an industrial strength garbage bag. Then I climbed under the bridge and made a few phone calls. I was about to sleep some more when a guy on a motorcycle pulled up under the bridge.

He looked around and saw me so I waved and then walked to him. He had a feeling he was being watched. He had ridden from Evergreen to the bridge and was taking the bike path into Idaho Springs.

A little while later I heard some voices. I thought I had heard voices earlier. Then I realized that rafting parties had been going down the river and screaming when they would go over a rapid.

The rain seemed to be letting up so I checked my bike and tightened a few loose bolts and then packed everything in plastic to keep it as dry as possible.

I wanted to take Route 6 to 119 to 48, but I saw a "No Bicycles" sign so I took 6 to 40 and up Floyd Hill which was tough. But it was nothing compared to what I had done earlier.

It was pouring rain when I got on Interstate 70, and I kept pedaling until I saw a hotel. It was a bit nerve-wracking because it was windy, raining, and semis were blasting past me leaving me in a cloud of rain and mist. Eventually I got a room at a Days Inn.

Friday, June 15

Started today from Golden, Colo. It was fairly cool so I had a long-sleeved shirt and my wind vest on. I started to make my way across downtown Denver and then continued toward Interstate 76.

Traffic was humming by when I entered I-76. As I approached a fairly nasty section of road, I realized I had a rear flat. I fixed that flat and got down the road no more than five minutes and had another flat. This time it was a rear blowout. I fixed that flat and continued.

I hit a construction zone and got off I-76 in favor of side roads. While pedaling through the town of Brighton, I spotted a Wal-Mart and stopped to get some CO2 cartridges for my quick fill.

I later headed to a frontage road because I had enough of I-76 and all the cars and trucks blasting by Only, the frontage road on the north side of the interstate quickly ended. I could see a frontage road on the other side of I-76 so I walked across all four lanes of the interstate to the frontage road on the south side.

It wasn't long before I heard something rubbing. It was the sound of rubber rubbing on pavement because my front tire was flat. So I stopped and fixed flat No. 3 of the day. This flat was caused by a thorn. At least I had quick fills now and could get good tire pressure after fixing a flat.

I continued toward Sterling. Later I got flat No. 4. Two miles from Sterling I got flat No. 5. I was really upset. It started to rain, which made me even madder. I put a new tire on in the rear in case there was something giving me flats that I was missing.

In Sterling, I looked for a place to eat dinner. Then came flat No. 6 for the day, another rear one. This one occurred right by a do-it-yourself car wash with a free air hose.

The next morning I left Sterling early loaded with Gatorade and ice. I got some helpful directions since I was no longer going to be riding on Highway 6. I took Route 138 to Julesburg.

After riding about 150 miles yesterday with about 144 of them on one half to three fourths of 105 pounds of pressure, I should have wanted the tires to feel like bricks. I had a great tailwind and was screaming along at 20, 28 miles per hour.

I kept on jamming along with the strong tailwind. I crossed into Nebraska, the fifth state of my journey, and eventually into Southerland. I saw signs about a detour. I was told a new railroad overpass was being built and that I would be able to get by on a bike. I rode about six miles east. As I approached, I thought that no one could get across since the road was rough. There was a train parked across the road.

I considered my options. I decided to take a fairly stupid risk especially considering there was an engine attached to this train and it was running although not moving. So I lifted my bike with my right arm and grabbed a box car ladder with my left and crossed the train between two boxcars. As I passed through I was momentarily not holding on to any ladder and thought to myself if this train lurches forward I am done with my ride and maybe done with a lot more.

But I made it, walked through about 400 yards of sand and was back on pavement again and headed for North Platte. I came to Casey's Country store, and called the only bike shop in town. I was told the shop was open until 6 p.m. I explained that I was riding across the country and needed some parts and begged the man to stay open until I could get there. He said he would and I put it in time trial mode and flew over there as fast as I could. I bought four more road tubes, some Mr. Tuffy tire liners, and a high-pressure frame pump. I spent $60 there but I knew my flat troubles would be substantially reduced.

It was money well spent if it meant no more screwing around fixing flats. The man also told me I would be lucky to get a hotel because it was Nebraska Land Days. I went to the Motel 6 and they had rooms.

Saturday, June 16

I got an early start out of North Platte to avoid the Land Day festivities. I soon realized that Nebraska is not flat and that winds can scream out of the East. I was going uphill and into a headwind, which seemed to get my hunger going.

Four miles from Merna, I stopped on the side of the road in the shade of a huge tree, stretched out my pad and took about a 45-minute nap. I felt like a dog must feel when it tries to take a nap on a hot summer day. Flies land on you and you flinch and the fly leaves, a mosquito buzzes in your ear and you swat and it leaves. It was rest but not restful.

I continued to Broken Bow where I filled up with ice and Gatorade and had a long talk with an old-timer named Dillard. After Broken Bow, I headed for Loup City where I had dinner at the Colony Inn.

I wanted to get to St. Paul, Neb., and I was fighting daylight. The thought of drunk fishermen pulling their boats on a Saturday night made me a little concerned about getting hit. But everything went OK. Later, while I was riding, I thought to myself, "Geez, does everyone in this state have yellow headlights?" A little while later I realized I had a yellow lens in. I pulled into the Super 8 in St. Paul and got the last single room they had.