Nebraska and the Dog, Cat, Rat

We exited the rocky mountains and entered the great midwest. You could feel a culture swing as soon as we hit Harrison, Nebraska. The first thing we noticed was the waiving. Everybody waives to you in the midwest. The local farmers switched from ranchers to crop farmers, and the locals were excited to start the harvest. Not that the people in Wyoming were unfriendly, but there is a certain warmness that comes with this part of the country. Maybe it has something to do with growing up here.

The scenery was surprisingly beautiful. We road on the Sand Hills Journey. Apparently northern Nebraska used to be the bottom of an ocean. The result was rolling sand hills and a weaving road.

And now for the best part. The foot of snow on the ground ruled out camping, so we booked a room at the local motel. That's when we discovered the machine. The machine was a tricycle with a built in motor. This home-made contraption achieves speeds between 15 and 30 mph. The owner of the machine travels the country showing off his animals as some type of street performer. His animals include a dog, cat, and rat. Normally not that cool. However, the rat (Mousey) rides on top of the cat (Catty) and the cat rides on top of the dog (Bugger). Pretty cool. Dave and I did not give the man money, but the DCR provided us with a new headlight. A headlight that would make it half-way through the Gutter Ball - The Quest for the Perfect Game.

Bridging the Gap

The weather finally calmed down this afternoon with WDOT labeling the roads as "wet." We decided to ride our missing miles between the home of the Herders and our new home of Douglas, Wyoming. After a ridiculous number of failed attempts at hitchhiking west, we decided to to have the trip's first ITT to the random parking area where we had left off. Unfortunately, we didn't figure out that I was the only person with a watch until well into the race. Dave said we averaged in the mid 20s, and I interpreted that as he averaged in the mid 20s. Regardless, we road the 12+ miles to bridge the gap in the route.

We then crossed good-old I-25 to head east and back to the hotel. Ten minutes with the thumbs out failed. Although we are two damn attractive individuals (especially by Wyoming standards), ourlooks could not get us a ride.

We then road another mile and decided to try our luck again. The new strategy of flagging down the first truck worked perfectly. We bummed a ride with an Okie antelope hunter who kindly moved his rifle clearing just enough space for us to squeeze into the front seat.

This particular hunter was not going all the way to our destination. He hinted at dropping us off at his exit, but some well-timed stuttering and mummbling on our parts left the hunter with only one option of going to the next exit. This exit just happened to be our exit six miles further down the road. The hunter immediately shed the extra weight and we hit the liquor store for some well-deserved beers.

Tomorrow's forecast predicts ice pellets early in the moring. After said pellets are cleared, we should have no problem hitting the road. With a little luck, we could enter Nebraska. The blog will not likely be updated for a few days, but be sure to tune-in later in the week because the big plans are creeping closer to reality.

Gutterballs Out

More Pics

Cabin Fever!!!

You know you are screwed when you check the weather and see the following words: freezing rain, snow storms, black ice, super slick, rollovers, winter storm advisory, cars in the ditch, winds from the east and liquor store closes at 8:00. My new personal favories include frozen fog and tomorrow's forecast of ice pellets. Seriously? This storm is so bad they are inventing weather conditions.

Both of us are starting to lose it, but the breakfast lady just told us this joke. Why is it so windy in Wyoming? (Answer at the bottom of the post.)

We are strictly adhereing to the rules of no sagging on the trip, so we are trying to hitchhike back towards Casper 12 miles only to return to our current position in Douglas, Wyoming. We took full advantage of Dom's support by traveling 30 miles in the past three days. Unfortunately, Dom skipped a Broncos game to join our adventure. The Broncos won in overtime. The best part of the 30 miles has to be when we entered Glenrock, Wyoming - the home of the Herders. Go Herd!



Answer: Because Nebraska sucks and Montana blows.

Pictures

Snow Days

Despite the winter storm, we made it almost 25 miles away from Casper yesterday. Our bicycles seized with ice and quickly became close to single speed cruisers. The water bottles froze and sprint points were no where to be found.

Today, we thawed out out our bodies and bikes in hopes that the storm will weaken, the roads will clear, and we can continue with the journey. Another forced snow day has set us slightly behind where we would like to be. Dom helped us clean and lube our bikes, and Dave swapped out his trailer tires to help prevent flats and green jersey penalties. Dave also attached a new light that will undoubtedly make us more visible but could also give oncoming motorists seizures and create the exact peril the device is intended to prevent.

Tomorrow there is a 40% chance of no snow and the tempature should top out at 28 degrees. This is music to our ears and perfect conditions to creep closer towards Nebraska and the big, big plans for the ride into Iowa's capital city.

Current Standings:
Yellow: DP (105:51), JJ (+0.00)
Polka Dot: DP = 66, JJ = 52
Green: DP = 36, JJ = 23
White: DP (105:51)
Lanterne Rouge: JJ (105:51), DP (-0.00)
Team: Gutter Balls (105:51)

Total Miles = 1,352.7

Double Bonk to Flat, Good Ole Boy Recover, Revert to Bonk

If our day was a snowboard trick, it would probably have a stupid name like the title of this entry.

The day started with around an inch of snow on the tents. We gathered our things went to the local gas station to get warm and snack on some breakfast. We were warned that there is nothing between Shishoni and Casper, but Dave and I have discovered the word "nothing" takes on several meanings. It usually ranges from no motel and no grocery store to no gas stations.

However, this "nothing" was dead on. The first town on the map was 20 miles into the ride and included a house with a few storage units. Our crappy gas station breakfast from the overnight town quickly turned into two massive bonks. With a slight uphill and a headwind, our bonked bodies only achieved 25 miles in three hours. Things then went from bad to worse. Dave's trailer got a flat tire that did not want to be changed. Dave finally won the battle, and we were on our way to find anything warm and edible.

The second town of Hillside, Wy had a population of 10 and did not look promising. We went into a makeshift store to see what we could find. The store turned out to be a bar with some good ole boys gettin' ready for the elk hunting season. Good ole boys and bikers (not that kind with motorcycles) are two breads of humans that rarely interact. After suffering through the initial onslaught of dirty looks and insults, I tried to find some common ground as the conversation turned into a heated debate over where current heavy weight, mixed-marital arts fighter, Brock Lesner, was from. My roommate in Denver is a big MMA fan, so I was equipped with barely enough knowledge to discuss this important matter with the proprieter of this fine establishment. Dave and I also found some real comon ground in that both parties enjoyed the outdoors, and then another debate over what kind of gun could pierce the skull of a grizzly bear. I voted for our bear mace that was constantly burried under heaps of clothes and bike gear in no position once so ever to deter any type of attack. Needless to say, Barack Obama did not come up in the conversation.

We eventually won over the hunters and had them buying us beers before our burgers were even ready to be devoured. Dave's orange hunting vest was highly praised, but his spandex biking pants and my bright yellow rain jacket were found to be unacceptable. Everybody agreed on these facts, but a half-ass search for more hunter's orange proved to be unsuccessful.

Armed with a warm meal, we mounted our saddles and headed for Casper a distant 70 miles away. The power of the burgers failed before we reached our destination and we succmbed to another bonk. We reached Casper late into the night, took a brief unplanned tour of the budding metropolis when the Super 8 sign lead us astray, and finally found a motel with a continental breakfast that would be annihilated the following morning. We were on the bikes for over 9 hours - our longest day of riding.

Green Jersey
The Green Jersey saw a lot of action despite no points being awarded. Dave's fourth flat tire of the trip earned him minus one point. I received a massive negative five points for the first fall of the trip. My excuse? I had dirt in my cleat and clould not get out of the clip-in pedals fast enough when Dave came to a slow stop to spot the route over a bridge. Exhaustion probably came into play. I had something in my eye. The ground wasn't level. There was road construction. You can accept any of those reasons, and I will be happy. Regardless, I escaped uninjured with the exception of the injury to my Green Jersey score.

Current standings: DP = 36; JJ = 23.

Much like the weather heating up from 5 degrees to 15 degrees, the Green Jersey should see more action as we quickly approach another border crossing and welcome Dave's dad to the trip for the weekend. Dom is a formidible opponent and a strong rider. I can only hope the weather hovers below the freezing mark in hopes that only one Palazzo wants to ride in such terrible weather conditions. Take care, stay warm, and Go Hawks!

Justin