Tuesday June 25:  Garden City, Kansas to Dodge City, Kansas
Distance:  50.9 miles
Total time:  4 hours 57 minutes
Riding time:  Unknown

Well, if the wind had to turn fickle this week, today was the right day.  Today's 50.9 mile ride was the shortest of the entire journey.  Yesterday's Tailwind of Consistent Assistance became today's Crosswind of Annoyance and finally, for the last 15 miles or so, the Headwind of Unbearable Reliability.  What might otherwise have been a three hour ride in the park deteriorated into an almost five hour survival pedalthon.  But that's all behind us.  Tomorrow is another day.

Morning is the best time.  The day promises nothing but hope - good weather, flat terrain, a following breeze and wide, smooth shoulders.  I like the routine that we've all fallen into, and I enjoy chatting with everyone as we prepare to ride.

My Cannondale Synapse is holding up well, though Magic Mark the Mechanic had to fix my rear brakes today.  Better in flat Kansas than on the Screaming Descent of Death after Donner Pass.  Thanks Mark.

Californians Dave and Doug share a joke before we start.

Jamie makes sure he's running 95 psi in his gatorskin tires.

And Leonard looks like he's ready to get the show on the road.

No Kansas corn or wheatfield pictures today.  I refer you to yesterday's installment if you can't remember what they look like.  But I couldn't resist a picture of the world's largest feedlot, which came accompanied by the world's largest odor of cow manure as we picked up the pace to ride by.  Note the real, live cowboy in the center foreground.

At mile 32 Jamie spotted Clark's Pharmacy in the metropolis of Cimarron, and we stopped in.  It was the highlight of an otherwise demoralizing ride.  Clark's is an old-fashioned soda fountain with old-fashioned friendly service.  I had a delicious vanilla shake, complete with the metal canister containing seconds.

Here are Mark, Jamie and Michael, along with the proprietress.

Everyone stopped at Clark's.  Here's a group shot.  From the left that's Jamie, Mark, Ray, Michael, your humble servant, and Leonard.

But after Saturday night comes Sunday morning.  Soon after leaving Cimarron, I was riding just ahead of Michael and heard a mini-explosion.  He suffered not just a puncture but a real blowout, as in it blew a hole in his tire, as you can see here.

Luckily we rode all day with Magic Mark the Mechanic, who had the tube and tire replaced in record time, and we were back on our sullen, slow and windblown way to Dodge City.

At mile 45 we met these guys riding the other way.  Good thing.  Dodge City just ain't big enough for them and us.

After checking into the hotel, we had time to go into town and check out the Boot Hill Museum.  It's surprisingly well done.  Here we are having a drink in the saloon with the Brits.

I had a Boot Hill Sarsaparilla.

I know.  Dodge City looks very civilized from the pictures above.  But there are some real bad hombres haunting the saloons and streets.  We took one look at these guys and turned around and walked out.  We don't want no trouble.

Here are Sean, me and Michael walking the mean streets of Dodge.

Tomorrow we go back to the long days - 92 miles to Great Bend, Kansas.  It's flat, and no rain predicted, so that's good.  There is talk of a 30 mile per hour headwind, and that's bad.  It shapes up to be a grind.

Monday June 24:  Lamar, Colorado to Garden City, Kansas
Distance:  103 miles
Total time:  6 hours 51 minutes
Riding time:  Unknown

Last night I wrote that I never expected to have another day on a bicycle like yesterday.  Well, today came pretty close.  The same Guardian Angel that provided the Tailwind of Providential Propulsion yesterday provided the Wind That Did No Harm and Often Assisted today.  The weather was good, though warmer as we descended, the shoulder was wide, the terrain was net downhill, and we averaged over 15 miles an hour, including stops, for 103 miles.  We know we'll eventually be meteorologically punished, but that's for another day.  Today we were again great cyclists!

A little over 30 miles into the ride we left the enormous state of Colorado behind and entered the enormous state of Kansas.  Here are the three amigos posing proudly at the state line.

Note the enormous wheat field to the right.

Here's Jamie riding through Kansas.  Note the enormous wheat field to the left.

You get the picture.

Today's ride was mostly dead flat.  If yesterday's landscape was flatter than a pancake that you'd sat on for an hour, today's was flatter than that pancake after you'd slept on it.  Except, there was an eight mile stretch beginning at about sixty miles that was rolling hills, some so steep that I set my new personal land speed record, 35.6 miles per hour, on one of the downhills.  But how flat is the earth generally in this part of Kansas?  Well, flatter than a Tea Party Congressman thinks.  Okay, if you have a better flat earth joke, let's hear it in the comments section.

I saw this sign as I rode through Syracuse, Kansas.  A nice thing to note and makes you consider how the west contributed to our democracy.

Fifty miles into the ride we left Mountain Time behind and got on Central Time.  We lose an hour but that's fine because we'll start a little later tomorrow, a short day.

If eastern Colorado was characterized by huge cattle ranches, where the cattle grazed on natural grass, Kansas is dotted with feed lots, like this one that we passed coming into Garden City.  The cows are cheek to jowl, or horn to udder.  I know which cow I'd rather invite to dinner.

The cattle industry absolutely dominates this part of Kansas, but we saw evidence of other industries as well.  Clearly there is a high-tech sector here:

And the auto sector seems to be important as well:

According to my Garmin device, I burned over 6500 calories on yesterday's ride and another 6000 today.  Getting enough calories to keep going is a concern for all of us.  We had two SAG (service and gear) stops today, and these offer an opportunity to replenish your water bottles and gobble some calories.  Here are Jamie, Dave from Walnut Creek, and Michael taking on supplies while our Fearless Leader Jim slices fruit.  Dave, seated, looks like he's had enough and is ready to throw in the towel, but in fact he got to the hotel ahead of us as he does most days.

While the SAGs are crucial to keeping us fed and watered, sometimes you crave something besides cookies, trail mix and bananas.  Seventy-five miles into today's ride across what they once called the Great American Desert, we spotted this oasis and stopped for refreshment.  No Saharan water hole was ever a more welcome sight.

For many miles we rode parallel to the old Santa Fe Trail, and there are places where you can still see the ruts from the wagon wheels.

So, we put down 224 miles in the last two days, and 318 over our last three days of cycling.  We're due for an off day, and tomorrow's ride to Dodge City is just a little over 50 miles.  With continued cooperation on the weather front we should be there early enough to see some sights, like the Boot Hill Museum.   Then it's back to more normal distances as we plod through Kansas and end the week in Missouri.  The halfway mark of the journey, both in days and miles, is fast approaching and it will be nice to be over those humps.

Sunday June 23:  Pueblo, Colorado to Lamar, Colorado
Distance:  121 miles
Total time:  7 hours 34 minutes
Riding time:  6 hours 15 minutes

I don't expect I'll ever have another day on a bicycle like today.  First of all, I don't intend to ever ride 121 miles again.  Today's was the longest of our 47 rides.  But it was near-perfect.  The weather was sunny with a big blue sky; the temperature was in the 60s and 70s; the road was flatter than a pancake that you'd sat on for an hour; and miraculously, against all odds, we had a tailwind from start to finish.  We averaged almost 16 miles an hour including our stops, and almost 20 miles an hour during our riding time.  These are the moments when you think gosh, I'm a really good cyclist!  Until the next day, of course.  But today?  We were really good cyclists!

It was difficult to imagine when we set out what the day would be like.  We knew the road was long, and it was.

That's me in my lucky Irish jersey, following Jamie.  Michael took the picture.

But it wasn't all the luck of the Irish.  At 30 miles I got a flat and Mark, the expert mechanic (he's also a great rider) fixed it for me.  Thanks Mark.

As we were getting back on our bikes, Michael noticed that he also had a puncture.  So Mark fixed his as well.  Thanks Mark.

As we completed our 57th mile of the day, it marked 1500 miles cycled since we began in San Francisco on June 2.  We stopped for a celebratory selfie, and cycled on.

The town of La Junta is an important rail junction, and you can get the Amtrak heading east or west.  This mileage chart posted outside the station brought home to us how far we've come, and of course how far we have yet to travel.  Rye, New Hampshire isn't on the chart, but it's about 2300 miles from La Junta by our route.

Since today was such a long ride, we had three SAG (service and gear) stops rather than the usual two.  The third was in the town of Hasty.  I know westerners can have an ironic and subtle sense of humor, but there was nothing Hasty about that town.  As a matter of fact we didn't see a living soul, including at the Post Office.

When we arrive at the next hotel, the staff has always set up a welcome board with important information.  As you can see below, Mark the Mechanic will see customers at 5:00; the "route rap", in which we go over the next day's route, is at 5:30, and chow time is 6:00.  And according to the board we eat breakfast at 6:00 a.m. and we roll at 7:00.

Below the welcome board they always post this route map.  Maybe you can see the highlighted line that goes from San Francisco to New Hampshire,  and the yellow highlighted part that shows us our progress thus far.  It was disheartening to see for a week or so, but now it's pretty impressive.

So tomorrow we do it again.  We follow up today's 121 with a 103 mile day that will (finally) take us out of Colorado and into Kansas.  It'll be all about the wind.

Friday June 21:  Salida, Colorado to Pueblo, Colorado
Distance:  94.9 miles
Total time:  9 hours 20 minutes
Riding time:  6 hours 45 minutes

Today was a hard day.  I hesitate to say that it was the hardest yet, because God gives us the ability to forget hardship very quickly.  But it was definitely in the top three.

It started well - beautiful weather coming out of Salida, no wind, and we made over 15 miles in our first hour.  But then I got a puncture, which cost us 20 minutes.  Jamie was kind enough to change the tire for me.  He's an expert, and he knew that if I did it myself we'd have been by the side of the road for 45 minutes.

The scenery was beautiful for the first 30 miles or so.  We followed the flood-stage Arkansas River - called Ar-KAN-zus in these parts. Once you cross the border into Kansas it's pronounced like the state of Arkansas.  It looked like this.

And this.

And this.

Twenty miles into the ride the river became a rushing torrent.  We passed dozens of buses and vans hauling rafts and rafters up-river so they could run the rapids.  It looked like these guys were having fun.

Michael caught Jamie and me with chipmunk cheeks as we gnawed on energy bars during a break.  When this ride is over I'll never eat another energy bar.  Ever.  Never.

As we continued riding along the river, Jamie spotted a homemade suspension bridge, and we decided it would be fun to walk across it.  When we saw this sign, we had second thoughts.  Not sure what the "or worse" implies.

When we saw the bridge itself, we had third thoughts.

The owner came out and cautioned us that the bridge isn't as safe as it looks.  That clinched it.  We stayed on our side.  It turned out the owner's family is from coastal Maine and he used to do wilderness guiding in the White Mountains.  Small world.

One more shot of the scenery, this one apparently sponsored by Nike.

So all was jolly until about the 30 mile mark when the wind, which had threatened fickleness all morning, turned against us with evil intent.  The next 64 miles were into the teeth of a gale, and it was soul-crushing at times.  I regret every word I wrote about yesterday's glorious tailwind, and all that nonsense of not touching my pedals for 10 miles.  Karma.  The rest of the day was a slog, through a bog, with a dog.

But wait.  I remind myself that we did stop for a civilized and very enjoyable lunch in Canon City with our British friends.

But then it was back to the galley oars.

With tomorrow a rest day, the Brits organized a happy hour in the hotel lobby.  It was great to sit around, have a beer and chat without worrying about tomorrow's ride.  Here's Allan, spiritual leader of the UK contingent, getting organized.

Tomorrow is a much-needed rest day, but then we cycle 230 miles the next two days.  Will it be the Tailwind of Eternal Locomotion, or the Headwind of Eternal Pedaling?  We'll all know on Sunday.  Enjoy the day off.

Thursday June 20:  Gunnison, Colorado to Salida, Colorado
Distance:  63.8 miles
Total time:  7 hours 9 minutes
Riding time:  4 hours 57 minutes

Today, as is often the case, was a ride in four parts.  It began in cool weather in Gunnison with a 31 mile, rolling ride to the base of Monarch Pass.  Then, the nine mile climb, followed by a 10 mile screaming downhill, and ending with a sweet 10 mile run to the hotel with a 20 mile an hour tailwind.

The first stage was very pleasant cycling through rich, green ranch land.  We made 26 miles in the first two hours.  Yesterday, climbing into a headwind, we made 13.  The landscape was beautiful, and much wetter than anything we've seen since San Francisco.

Jamie took an action photo of Michael and me cruising along on this pleasant ride.

But our thoughts were very much on the crucible that lay ahead of us, the looming final climb over the Rockies.

We stopped at the base of the climb to prepare ourselves.  Here's Jamie, about to set out.

Jamie, Michael and I have now ridden 1300 miles together, but our strategy on the big climbs is to do our own thing and meet at the top.  Jamie and Michael prefer to get into the zone and power through, while I stop frequently, rest, then try to catch up.  Amazingly, in a 90 minute climb, we all arrived at the top within four minutes of each other.

I wasn't in an artistic mood, but did manage to snap this during a rest break.

And I got this picture of Jamie as he was about to pass me.

He returned the favor.  Notice there is no blurring of the image as I whiz by at an estimated five miles an hour.

Jamie and I arrived at the summit at nearly the same time, and we pretended to race, at about three miles per hour, to the waiting van and the cheers of our friends who had already finished the climb.  Yes, lots of snow still at the summit.

As you might imagine we were pretty impressed with ourselves following the climb, so we engaged in an orgy of photo taking.

Here's a smug and self-satisfied selfie that I took upon arrival.  Note the elevation - 11,312 feet.  The final climb itself was just over 3,000 feet.

And here are the three amigos, as the rest of the crew now calls us.

My own individual shot in front of the sign.

And finally, most of the group posing together.  The Brits, who are great cyclists and climbing specialists, and who have climbed many of the great peaks in Europe, said that this was the highest elevation they had ever topped.  I'm second from right.

As we lingered in our self-indulgence at the summit, the sky clouded over and the wind came up.  There were gusts over 30 miles an hour, and a crosswind.  The flags tell the tale.  It was time to get a move on before the weather really deteriorated.

So, following the Climb of Supreme Athleticism, we faced the Crosswind of Alarming Velocity, coupled with, as the sign indicates, the Downhill of Unnerving Gradient and Extended Duration.  Did I mention the snow?

Off we went, and in retrospect it was the ride of a lifetime.  In many places on the 10 mile descent there was no shoulder, so we had no choice but to take a lane.  The views were spectacular but there was little opportunity to enjoy them.

We were joined on the downhill by Dave from Walnut Creek, who is very quick on the descents.  Here he, Jamie and Michael take a quick break to take pictures.

Finally the descent leveled out, sort of, from a six percent roller coaster to a civilized one and two percent downhill.  But the Crosswind of Alarming Velocity converted itself into the Tailwind of Emphatic Acceleration.  For the last 10 miles we bombed along at between 20 and 30 miles an hour, barely touching our pedals.  A fitting reward for the agonizing climb that preceded it.

In fact the tailwind was so powerful that it blew us directly into this brew pub.

There we met up with Steve from the UK, who took time out to call his wife on their anniversary, had beer, ordered food from the food truck outside, and all was in order.

Tomorrow, 94 miles to the relative metropolis of Pueblo, then a day off on Saturday.  Haircut, bike repairs, laundry, see some old friends.  Oh, and it looks like the "Comments" function is working again.