It's The Altitude

9/8/2006: Day 20, 30.5 miles; Total 722.9 Miles

During the night the sprinkler system made two rounds of the park! At about 8 PM I was sitting with Art and Alvena at their picnic table hearing all of their tales of old age romance when the TB gave out a blood-curdling shout from his bed in the top of the van. There must have been a cougar or bear attack. I sprinted over to find the sprinklers were spraying the driver’s side of the van, and he was proclaiming, “that water is going to ruin my refrigerator! Put something over the sprinkler while I move the van.” Nothing is more precious than to see an 84-year-old man climbing down from a second level bunk in his underwear, while trying to pull on his pants so Alvena doesn’t see him, all the time throwing his hands in the air and mumbling under his breath something about the park supervisor being less than human, and the refrigerator being in great peril! Of course, the front seat was full of his stuff, so he was delayed as I tried to get him to let me just move it in spite of the stuff, but he would hear nothing of it. Finally the van was moved and the water was no longer hitting near the refrigerator exhaust. I didn’t have the heart to waken him some two hours later when the passenger side sprinklers began to spray our spare bike and my clothes hanging off the back. I noticed this spray when it shot through the window and wet my feet that were sticking out of the newly arrived, and too hot, zero degree sleeping bag. So I closed the window and went back to sleep. Later he went out to urinate and said, “That sprinkler must have sprayed on this side!” I said, “Did it,” and went back to sleep.

We drove the 10 miles back to the West where I had stopped yesterday and got riding at 8:30 AM. It was 36 degrees when we got up so I had full North Pole clothing on for the ride. I had on two long john shirts, a vest, winter gloves, and new long johns over the cycling shorts. I also had the usual reflective vest and orange soccer style shorts. Within a few miles the wind was again in my face and it was another tough day headed east on I-90 towards Butte some 100 miles away. I could still hear an intermittent squeak in the bottom bracket (the bearings for the pedals). I had inflated the tires to 110 PSI with the new pump in order to make it roll more efficiently, but headway was again very difficult. At times the wind almost brought me to a stop. All this was very disappointing to me, as I am just not making the mileage that I thought I should. My book says up to 140/day. One couple that wrote the guidebook says 70 miles by lunch. My head is down concentrating on the road hazards and the traffic behind in the mirrors. I am not seeing the scenery. I’ve not looked up enough to see any Big Horn Sheep, Antelopes, or deer and I know a lot have seen me. In a word, I’m getting discouraged. Even the dreaded “Q” word, quit, has been in my brain and might have passed my lips once.

Finally, at 20 miles we agreed I’d go to the 30 mile Exit Number 174. I struggled against the wind and finally made it to the exit and went down to the first gas station variety store and got an ice cream sandwich and a cup of Cappuccino. The TB was nowhere in sight. The heavily bearded attendant said, “An old hippy in a VW was here but he went down the side road.” I slept with my head down for half an hour, and after being here for more than an hour I called him on the cell phone. He was back up on the Interstate proceeding further east! After three calls and many exclamations of, “can you hear me”, he pulled in and picked me up coming in from the west! Apparently he thought I might go by this exit so he sat on the on ramp as I exited the off ramp and we missed each other. Such is the life of the long distance bike rider and crew.

I wanted to go to Butte; some 48 miles further east to have the bike checked one more time for the potential bearing problem. I am having a very hard time keeping the Stallion moving. I suspect I am the power problem, but if there is a drag in the bearings I want to know it.

We went to a bike shop in downtown Butte as directed by a fellow at Wal-Mart. The shop had a bunch of kids working and the boss said he couldn’t work on it and had no mechanic on Saturday so he sent me over to “Bad Beaver, Bikes, Skis, and Tours” a new shop in the old historic section of Butte. It was the old historic part of the city and had many beautiful buildings and some slums. The owners Ed and Susan Renfro have had bike shops for years and have toured Bulgaria on bike. They were very receptive, pleasant, and imminently technically skillful in working on all the gear. Susan must be a long distance cycling psychologist as she encouraged me and honestly thought my mileage totals were good not bad. She reminded me that we are cycling at 5000 feet of altitude and I’m from sea level. She said 40-50 mile days around here are good. She then reviewed my route and gave suggestions. All the while, Ed was working on the Stallion. He checked out all four sets of bearings (two wheels and the bottom bracket and the rear gear cluster). He found several areas that could have squeaked but nothing worn out or broken. He adjusted the shifters again, and showed me a non-liquid lubricant that he says is the best and makes little mess. Somehow my shoe cleats came up and he checked the shoes and the pedals to see why I can’t get into or out of my cleats efficiently. He showed me how the cleats are recessed in the shoe for walking and the edges of the shoe are interfering with the mechanism. So he trimmed a little of the shoe and adjusted the pedal clasp mechanism and it all worked much better. He also checked the rough front wheel weld and reassured me once more. These are wonderful people who charged me $10 for labor and 9.95 for the high tech lubricant. I tried to pay more, but that was it. I should have been charged $50 for the psychological support!

As we left the store Madeline stopped us to ask what was our adventure. She is a beautiful 49-year-old mother of six kids and a nurse who had formerly had her bike fixed at the same shop. She rode the famous “Ride Across Iowa” on three occasions and had interest in the bike on the back of our Van. She home schools the kids except for the oldest a 17 year old who wanted to go to her senior year at school this year. The kid has great standard test scores and thinks school is a little slow but apparently likes the social aspects (which was one of my questions.) The child is an Irish Dancer and the local group has instruction form a school out of Chicago and does River Dance type stuff beautifully. When she said she had six children, I asked what held her back and pointed out the TB who has eight kids. She said they had wanted eight themselves. She also thought 40-50 per day was excellent mileage and even commented that my insignificant weight loss meant I was gaining muscle. Then she informed me of the probable answer: Butte is a mile high city, and we are pedaling above 5000 feet all the way from Missoula! Athletic performance is significantly affected at altitude. There’s the excuse I need; I can finally quit whining and get on with it. Where do all these people come from when we need them! She, however, refused to take us home stating she only had one bathroom! Wow, six kids, and one bathroom!

The altitude problem reminds me of a story my friend Tom Weiner told me about UNLV basketball coach Jerry Tarkanion. Tom was on the board of UNLV. Someone asked Tark if playing a game at the altitude of Denver would affect his team’s performance. Tark said, “No, the game is indoors!” Well, I’m outdoors Tark, and I think it’s bothering me.

I drove around town looking for a motel in our 40-50-price range, and received a lot of back seat driving advice (mainly about the brakes and “I need this car to last many more years”), and a lot of advice that I’d never find a cheap room in town. After returning to downtown Butte we checked the Comfort ($85), Days Inn ($78), Red Inn ($86), I was forced to admit he was right. We went back to the Historic section and saw two slummy looking places and didn’t even stop. So I started west on I-90 and we saw a sign for the “Rocker Inn” at the next exit for $39. It is a very nice place and for $54 a nice price, “since we saw the sign.” Her first quotation was for $64! It’s a very nice place but no internet.

We are going to try to relax more, and I am trying to keep at it, and lower my expectations. We need to just “let it happen” instead of the David Horton approach of “push, push, push.” I can’t do it that way. I think I can quit worrying about the bike and I don’t know why all the mileages I’ve heard of are bothering me. Perhaps it’s because I’m at it alone and don’t have dozens of other cyclists around with whom to commiserate like we always had in the Appalachian Trail Thru-hike days. And of course, I don’t have my Millie here who was the driving force behind the AT success. I am so grateful to have the TB or I wouldn’t be here at all; but even though I was with him for a month in Maine on his AT thru-hike, I am learning more now that his idiosyncrasies and mine are not the best blend! But who on earth would put up with spending their whole day catering to a slow bike rider. He does, and I bless him for it.

We are going to get a good late start tomorrow. That’s my best plan.