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Where Are We Staying Tonight? A Day in Iowa, Part 1

Zooming along through, you guessed it, corn!

Zooming along through, you guessed it, corn!

It’s nice to know where you’re going to sleep at night. There’s comfort in planning, security in reservations. And yet the adventure of no plan or no clue where your head will lay has its charm. During this bike tour, I’ve felt exposed to the whim of the elements and people we meet and yet completely at ease, plan or no plan. The kindness and generosity of strangers reinforces my faith in humanity, strengthening the feeling that riding without a route will turn out ok.

I dig the unknown and the surprises (good and bad) that accompany serendipity. I’ve always laughed when the weather gets so bad it seems like a joke – horizontal rain, for example – and revel in the edge I discover when things get, well, “interesting.” Missed a turn? No big deal. Planning our trip day-by-day? Sign me up. Lucky for me, I have a partner in Chelsea who both embraces this ethos and also has a healthy sense of self-preservation. She balances my “just do it” attitude, though I frequently battle her like a defiant two-year-old. I know some of you are thinking, “Poor Chelsea,” and you are right…but not all the time. After all, embracing the open road without a plan can result in some of the most satisfying adventures out there. It can be more of a rollercoaster ride of events and emotions, but such is our way. She did get on a plane to Prague for our month-long first date, after all!

The product of the cornfields rests on an old fence board.

The product of the cornfields rests on an old fence board.

This is the story of two serendipitous days in Iowa. They are snapshots, but are representative of our general experience on tour: No plans and nothing to guide us save a convenience store map and the sun on our backs. Since it’s just after Labor Day and we all have work to do, I’m breaking it into two bite-sized stories and will post the other later this week.

Au Revoir Nebraska

Our two rest days in Omaha were perfect. They featured time with good friends (thanks Holman family!), a decadent dinner at a new vegan restaurant called Modern Love and even tracking down old homes that Chelsea’s maternal grandma had lived in to chat with the current owners. We left the city on a sultry and humid August day to head further east. On our way out, we watched a parade south of Omaha, talked to a guy from Florida who almost did somersaults he was so stoked about our trip, ate lunch next to the Missouri River and then crossed it on a narrow bridge. The attendant waved us past the $1 cyclist toll for free, smoke ringlets from her cigarette marking the end of our time in Nebraska.

An amazing meal at Modern Love. Isa, the chef and owner, lived in Portland, OR for awhile. She runs an amazing vegan blog, theppk.com (Post Punk Kitchen). So great to find her in Omaha at the restaurant, which had only been open a week. SO GOOD. I'll stop raving about it now...

An amazing meal at Modern Love. Isa, the chef and owner, lived in Portland, OR for awhile. She runs an amazing vegan blog, theppk.com (Post Punk Kitchen). So great to find her in Omaha at the restaurant, which had only been open a week. SO GOOD. I’ll stop raving about it now…

A great stay in Omaha with the Holman family!

A great stay in Omaha with the Holman family!

Onward into Iowa, whose first surprise hit hard right over the bridge: Nothing in the state is flat! (Joe P, I know you could have told me that.) The country roads are a gridded array of steep, long hills (paved and gravel) that cascade across the countryside through corn and soybean fields. In all our time on the road, there have been only four days I would call “flat,” and those of course featured the scourge of cyclists, Headwinds From Hell.

We enjoyed a short stint on a nice, shaded gravel trail called the Wabash Trace, passing four guys doing a weekend bike trip with a boombox blasting classic rock. Unfortunately, the trail ran north-south, as many of the rails-to-trails seem to do. We soon continued east in search of Chelsea’s paternal great-grandparents’ gravestone in tiny Henderson, Iowa. With some help from a nice woman, we tracked down the tree-shaded cemetery a mile out of town, views of fields dropping away from the hill. Chelsea laid fresh-picked flowers on their graves (Victor and Inez Norton) and we sat together on the windy knoll contemplating the past and this winding path of life we’re lucky enough to experience together. To have biked 2,000+ miles to be there was amazing, especially since it wasn’t part of the plan until a few days prior.

A bridge on the Wabash Trace Trail.

A bridge on the Wabash Trace Trail.

Making Friends

Back in tiny Henderson, population 185, Chelsea searches for someone who knows her family. She knocks on the door of a guy who says, “Oh, you need to talk to Ken and Mary,” and points across the street. Tapping on their door, we’re warmly ushered in to chat with the most connected residents in town before we even tell them who we are or what we’re up to. Mary and Ken are a delightful couple who seem to know everyone. Chelsea is quickly on the phone with Wanda, who played as a kid with her great aunt’s kids while living across the street from the family farm where Chelsea’s grandpa grew up. Mary has every phone number memorized and is a master connector, dialing up a couple more people for Chelsea to chat with.

Chelsea, Ken, Mary, Wanda and friend in Henderson.

Chelsea, Ken, Mary, Wanda and friend in Henderson.

Meanwhile, Ken regales me with a quick wit and shows me his impressive knowledge of ham radios in the Man Cave at the back of the house. He also tells great stories, such as when he worked at Nebraska Furniture Center and Warren Buffett, who owns the store, was checking up on his investment. On his way out, he asked Ken, “Hey, do you have $5 you could spot me for lunch?” The Omaha billionaire didn’t even have the cash to grab a burger across the street!

Then we hop in their car, meeting Wanda along the way, and everyone heads out to the old family farm, surprising a Russian woman who lives there. As they toured the farmhouse, I saw fireflies for the first time in my life on the old homestead as they flickered on and off in the dark, twinkling by the barn as the sun dipped low and glowed red on the horizon.

The old homestead at sunset.

The old homestead at sunset.

A visit to Wanda’s house follows and then Ken and Mary invite us to stay the night, where we burned the midnight oil trading stories. Their good cheer and warm hospitality kicked off our stay in Iowa. Another example of embracing the unknown resulting in great friends and memories that will last a lifetime.

Tomorrow, Part 2! We’ll be hitting the shores of Lake Erie, where we’re staying with a buddy I ran Hood to Coast with on Labor Day Weekend four years ago. Full circle connection, as usual.

Ciao for now,

Dakota

P.S. Happy birthday to Chelsea’s brother Jesse! Thinking of you today and much love from Grand Rapids, Ohio.

Visiting Chelsea's great-grandparents' hometown of Henderson, Iowa. Any place with a giant smiley face barn is ok in my book!

Visiting Chelsea’s great-grandparents’ hometown of Henderson, Iowa. Any place with a giant smiley face barn is ok in my book! Any woman with a smile like that is even better. 🙂

A sign in Madison, Nebraska with distances to cities all over the place. 1,690 to Portland! This moment feels so long ago...

A sign in Madison, Nebraska with distances to cities all over the place. 1,690 to Portland! This moment feels so long ago…

I know you love these shots... All the rain in the Midwest has kept the flowers firing and the landscapes green.

I know you love these shots… My two favorite subjects! All the thunderstorms in the Midwest has kept the flowers firing and the landscapes green.

Away We Spin Into the Unknown

A sunset ride in Capital Reef National Park.

A sunset ride in Capital Reef National Park.

It’s easy to do something that turns you into the Cheshire Cat of Glee. Everyone has that activity that lights up their soul and makes them smile ear-to-ear. Recently, mountain biking the best trails in the west does that for me, rolling up to a trailhead in the van and careening off into the distance eyes aglow. During the last eight months, I’ve had some of the most content moments of my life ripping along twisty trails or halfway through a ride eating lunch with a splendid vista.

And now, gears are shifting. We are parking the van at Chelsea’s parents’ near Moscow, Idaho and depart in two days on the next phase of our adventure: biking 4,500 miles cross-country to Maine! We’re embarking with just our touring bikes, a tent and other camping gear for an unsupported trek that will take us along the Canadian border. We’ll pedal north through eastern Washington, then turn east to cross Idaho, Montana, the Great Plains and Great Lakes, then meander all the way to Bar Harbor, Maine (Acadia National Park).

Waiiiit a second Dakota, you’re thinking. Why the HECK are you trading the fun of mountain biking for cruising slowly along on a loaded touring bike all the way across the country this summer? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it! You’re the guy in a van, don’t change things up on us. Not fair!

Pretending I know how to ride in Fruita, Colorado. GO here.

Pretending I know how to ride in Fruita, Colorado. GO here.

Frankly, life being so good is exactly why I’m down for a new course. As I’ve alluded to in past writing, anything great will eventually grow stale without introducing new challenge to the mix. Whether that’s a shift in careers, a fresh hobby or a challenge like this one (totally Chelsea’s idea, by the way), leaning into the unknown creates that adrenaline-fueled excitement. Everything and everyone has New Relationship Energy when you’re just getting started.

What to expect of the ride? Neither of us has toured longer than five days straight! Thousands of miles is a LONG way to ride a bicycle, and my mind, body, soul and relationship will be tested along the way. Even at 50 miles a day, 4,500 miles is three months straight pedaling up mountains, across plains and through forests hauling all our gear. And the bad stuff! What if we get hit by a drunk oil truck driver in North Dakota? What if bears eat our food, then our bikes and tents with us inside? What if this is the hottest, craziest tornado summer of the last 100 years?! A bike helmet doesn’t save you when a giant Walmart truck drops from the sky.

Cruising the bike-only path (20 miles!) in Grand Teton National Park. Best backdrop for a ride I've seen on this trip.

Cruising the bike-only path (20 miles!) in Grand Teton National Park. Best backdrop for a ride I’ve seen on this trip.

Ohhhh, the bad stuff, that indistinct terror of the unknown. Often, we fear anything new, jumping to the worst case in our mind first instead of the best case. Think of anytime you’ve told family and friends about a big undertaking. A few will celebrate the new journey – “wow, that’s amazing!” And the majority will dig through every anecdote and news story that they’ve ever encountered to offer words of warning. “My cousin Rick tried that and barely survived,” or “My buddy’s uncle’s co-worker just sits in a corner staring blankly after a trip like yours.”

I can’t imagine what early settler’s heard from their safety-minded friends. I’m exaggerating…but you know what I’m saying. Everyone in your life cares about keeping you safe and away from harm and often the first response is one of concern and cautionary tales, however far-fetched. Rather than “have fun!” it’s “be safe.” Perhaps it stems from bygone days when our ancestors could only pass down wisdom via stories, and so warnings like that literally could save lives. “Thag, you steer clear of those TrampleYourAssasauruses in the summer, your uncle SlagHeap was mashed by one.”

Well, I have news. These days, life is safe! We in developed countries live in a world so ridiculously luxurious that people run 100 miles for fun and can fly (safely) around the planet on a whim for an insanely low price relative to bygone days. A hailstorm or flat tire in the middle of nowhere is a test, yet certainly not the end of our existence.

Cruising the most-excellent trail in Dixie Canyon near Bryce Canyon National Park.

Cruising the excellent car-free trail in Dixie Canyon near Bryce Canyon National Park.

None of this is to say that I’m tough. I’m totally leery of the negative things that could happen; they crop up in my mind on an hourly basis. Testing our new tent on the back deck at C’s parent’s house in the country, the sound of a bear roaring nearby at midnight transfixed us in our sleeping bags for a couple minutes as we pictured the headline: “Dumb city slicker couple mauled in tent ten feet from house.” Mild terror until C’s dad starting laughing and turned off the iPad nature app featuring grizzly growls. Ohhh he’s quite the joker, her dad. Now I have to wash my sleeping bag!

Really though, we shall see how this goes. Dude, I’ve been driving around the country in my luxury German vehicle with a fridge and hot water boiler. I have wireless internet everywhere I go, and my favorite Synergy kombucha is almost always available. Our biggest roadblock, finding healthy plant-based food, is entirely a personal choice. Hmmm, can I actually do this?! Trading my comfy Sprinter van and mattress for a tent and sleeping pad? My stereo system for headphones? Accelerator for a pair of pedals and a bike seat? This sounds like a serious pain in the butt (literally, I’m sure).

And that’s why I’m game. I can always return to the van, or our house, to be coddled by the comforts of modern society. I can hop on a plane to Hawaii for a week in the sun, or drive to the beach for a weekend out of the city. But first, I’m spinning off into the Rocky Mountains to find some tent-eating bears. There will be trials of logistics and weather, plus the hangry (hungry+angry) moments when I don’t eat enough and Chelsea has to fend me off with a bike pump. (She calls that alter-ego NARG. Picture an ugly, surly monster with no logic or empathy.) Headwinds will batter the core of my convictions in the Great Plains and afternoon rain will perhaps dampen my spirits. It’s going to be hard…and so bodaciously rad! (The 80s live on.)

Totally unrelated to bike touring... Just a pretty shot from Grand Teton!

Totally unrelated to bike touring… Just a pretty shot from Grand Teton!

I know this: I’m going to emerge a stronger person with a new sense of what our bodies and minds can accomplish when we say “DO THIS” and set off on a big adventure. The best case is more confidence in the reality that testing our limits results in growth in directions we never expect. (Certainly in my quads.) And I suspect seeing new territory at bike-touring speed, and meeting kind, amazing people along the way, will light me up and crack my face into a big grin just like when I’m mountain biking.

Right now, it feels riskier to not keep mixing fresh horizons and new adventures into our lives, and this is simply the newest escapade. Living a life of no regrets is my guiding star, and so I grab my bike and point the front tire east. To Maine, I say! As a wise world traveler we met in Yellowstone told us, ““Be good, and if you can’t be good, be careful, and if you can’t do that, be really good!”

Getting our respective skips on outside the Adventure Cycling Association in Missoula (they have maps and bike touring gear and hey, we were in the area). Yes, Chelsea will always be more graceful and less nerdy than I could ever hope to be. And she has cool colored cycling socks.

Getting our respective skips on outside the Adventure Cycling Association in Missoula (they have maps and bike touring gear and hey, we were in the area). Yes, Chelsea will always be more graceful and less nerdy than I could ever hope to be. And she has cool colored cycling socks.

Friends and blog readers (one and the same): Drop us a line with your favorite places across the northern U.S.! If you have family or buddies anywhere along our route, please put us in touch. Meeting people during our travels is absolutely our favorite part of being vagabonds. I’ll be updating the trip map along the way, so follow along to see if we accidentally wander into the Arctic Circle (not part of the plan).

Pedal on,

Dakota & Chelsea


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We'll see lots of wheat waving under sunsets on our trip!

We’ll see lots of wheat waving under sunsets on our trip!