More wheel trouble

The problem with my front wheel was that the brake pad had worn much of the way through the rim. I had the same thing happening with my rear wheel, and soon after getting back on the road after Elko I began kicking myself for not getting a rear wheel as well. This was especially going to be an issue because my route included an 80 mile section of dirt roads.

Sure enough, halfway through the dirt road I noticed a crack developing in my rear rim. This time I was sure I was screwed as not only most of my weight rests on the rear wheel but the road conditions were especially bouncy and certain to stress the wheel past the breaking point. Lacking other options, I continued biking, figuring that I would either have to catch another ride or walk out once the wheel failed.



I continued down the road. I didn't even want to look at the wheel, so I kept going, fighting the wind as usual and steering clear of the large amounts of mining traffic that kept bouncing along the road. The kept holding and kept pedaling until I actually made it to the pavement at the end. The wheel continued to hold until I got all the way to Winnemucca, a town where I had contacted a Henry through the warm showers website. Not only did Henry agree to host me for the night, but he had a basement full of bikes and bike parts.



Henry on our ride out of town.

He was confident the local bike shop would have a suitable wheel for me, but it seemed he would certainly have one if that option failed. To top it all off, Henry turned out to be the most bike-intensive person I have ever met. His knowledge of bike mechanics was encyclopedic, but he had himself done numerous trips including many endurance bike races. For instance, he biked across Australia in a matter of two or three weeks. He did a bike race in Alaska that follows the Iditarod. It's a 250 mile course and he finished in third place with a time of about 24 hours. Suddenly, my 100 mile days didn't seem so impressive.



Best of all for me, however, was the fact that Henry appreciated how biking all day makes one hungry. He fed me plate after plate of food. For dinner we had a three course meal, then later bought ice cream. Breakfast was huge, as was lunch. I left his home at around 1:30pm but didn't have to eat again until 6:00pm, which is incredible as I usually have to stop at least every two hours for food.

When the bike shop did not have a suitable wheel Henry lent me a 26" to haul with me if my breaking wheel finally fell apart. My wheel made it all the way, however, and quite incredibly. I now have a new wheel and am set for the next leg of the journey.

Wheel trouble

Just as I was about to cross into NV from ID my front brakes started grabbing. Upon investigation I discovered that the rim was bent at the seam. Maybe, I thought, it would be fine. I continued biking and even passed up an offer for a ride into Owyhee and the large city of Elko the next day proffered by a kind Indian gentleman in a white pickup.

By the time I made it to Owyhee proper, however, a small crack had formed in the rim. Disaster, it seemed, was eminent. There was no way that wheel could hold for much longer. I kicked myself for not taking the man up on his offer of a ride. Elko, over a hundred miles away, was the closest place I could possibly find another wheel. I stopped at the only store in Owyhee and bought some peanut butter. Several people came up to me and chatted as I tried to decide what to do about the wheel. A cop I had previously asked about road conditions drove past again and turned sturn. "How long does it take you to go a hundred miles?" she asked. "Well," she continued, before I could reply fully, "there's a hotel here and one in Mountain Home, and nothing in between. It's getting kind of late, just so you're aware." "There's absolutely nothing in between," her partner reiterated.

I found a campsite right outside of town, shielded from the road by willows and right next to an irrigation ditch. In the morning I biked 10 miles to Mountain City, hoping to catch the man in the white truck again. Sure enough, he pulled into town around 8:00am, and drove straight past me. He slowed, however, backed up and offered me a ride again.

Ben turned out to be older than I had thought, and even more gregarious than I had anticipated. He was an 84 year old former heavy equipment operator and truck driver. For the entire ride he regaled me with stories of bronc riding, the Pacific theater in World War II, building dams, hauling stuff, putting up fences and other riders he'd picked up over the years. His wife, Vivian, occassionally interrupted. "Ben," she ordered, "slow down, there's a tractor up there." It turns out Ben had probably not stopped initially because he hadn't seen me. However, between the three pairs of eyes in the truck we made it to Elko in one piece and Ben dropped me off right at the bike store. Amazingly enough, they had a strong wheel that fit. In a couple of hours I was back on the road, having only lost as much time as the ride with Ben and Vivian had allowed me to gain.

Reno

So I finally made it to Reno. This solo bike tripping is kind of tough. With no one to talk to and not much to stop for I seem to do nothing but bike. I'd been biking eight days straight by the time I got to Reno, but it felt more like a couple of weeks. Luckily I knew people here who took me in. Or rather people here took me in even though they barely knew me. Namely, Kyhl and Marian, who already had a house guest named Jim, are getting married in a month, moving in two weeks, and just finished a PhD and found a job or are quitting one job and finding another, respectively. As if one house guest named Jim weren't sufficient to overwhelm people with plates as full as theirs. Luckily, however, they are kind, their apartment is large, and they have to get rid of their food anyway.

To Missoula

My friend Eric joined me from Livingston north up 89 until about Roundup. He had to hold back at the end, but overall we had a tailwind and a fairly pleasant experience. He also gave me a bunch of cookies. Anyone can bike with me if they give me cookies. Actually, anyone can bike with me even if they don't give me cookies, but everyone's happier with cookies.

On the first night I had a visitor: my mom. She was so worried about me being on the road again that she drove all the way to the pass before Helena and gave me tons of food. I ate it all. I guess it's a good thing she came.

The riding has been a bit more difficult than I remember. And now I don't even have the trailer; but I am doing longer days.

I was pretty thrilled to get to Missoula where I knew Chris and Virginia and Matt and Shay would put me up. My enthusiasm ebbed slightly when I realized I had to climb the steepest hill of the trip to get to their house. I got to the top of the hill and found it was a dead end. Then I got to go down the steepest hill halfway until I found the turn that would have saved me going all the way up. Biking by trial and error: only for those with the luxury of time and a tolerance for hills, I guess.

A big advantage to getting to Missoula was all the food that Chris and Virginia have. I made it my duty to eat as much as possible, usually after everyone else went to bed. I ate all their chocolate. Actually, I couldn't find any chocolate, but I would have eaten it all if I had. But I tried to make up for it by cooking a bit. Here we enjoy chicken and dumplings.

Preparation

I will start an accelerated nursing program in the fall. I've just finished a year's worth of prerequisites. I have about 4 months to see how far south I can get before I have to head to Minnesota for the start of school. In 2007 I started a bike trip with a few friends from Beijing and wound up in Paris. We had a more complex website for that trip, but it was kind of a big deal. Luckily, just about everything was sitting around, ready to be thrown on the bike. With the last bike trip I did, I knew what to expect for this one. Finals finished early this week, so I've had a lot of time to ponder what deserves to be taken and what left behind.

We're still getting snow in Montana. I'm not too concerned about that from a biking perspective, but it has impacted my planning as I've been tempted to go skiing instead of packing.