Mt. Tam took my 4th life

In the spirit of full disclosure and at the risk of terrifying my mom and dad, I will relate to you the day's events. Adam and I left my place around 10AM for a ride up Mt. Tam (Tamalpais). It was a chilly, cloudy, true San Francisco summer day all the way to San Anselmo, where we started the climb (see picture of our ride's elevation profile; note axes scales) in the sunshine. The 15 miles to the summit included some short respites of descent, but knowing that these meant elevation loss made them somewhat bitter. We entered the fog/clouds, and Adam deduced that fog + tree = rain, so we dodged some wet patches, if one can be said to dodge at 5 mph.


We came upon some police cars and an enormous truck with a winch that was towing an errant car up the cliffside. I was really, really tired at this point--I don't think I've ever done such a sustained climb--and was begging for the summit with each pedal stroke. We finally made it, and on the descent, a combination of exhaustion, excitement, inexperience and pure stupidity resulted in my going down on one curve. I will never consciously be that idiotic again...I slid out on a left-hand bend and tore up my left thigh/butt and my left handle bar tape. My bike was otherwise unscathed, my head was fine, and I had some raspberries on my left elbow, ankle, and calf. My $80 shorts were torn up during their third wear--dammit--but a small price to pay for my idiocy.




Adam and I cautiously took the remainder of the descent into Mill Valley (crazy steep parts) and stopped for lunch and my getting-my-shit-together at Cafe Trieste in Sausalito. The ride back across the GG Bridge and to the city was uneventful--tourist dodging on the bridge.

Wheels and Frolf

The past week has been a ton of fun. I took two more rides across the GG Bridge, the most recent being this morning with two guys, Adam and Bobby, who will be medicine interns at USCF starting in July with me. The Sunday morning ride was beautiful as ever, and my two new friends were so pleasant and kind. The previous Marin County ride I took solo, and I turned left at the end of the GGB and climbed about 2 miles up--it was worth it for the picture and the ensuing descent, followed by a trip through the crazy Bunker Road tunnel and the same Tiburon loop I'd done before. I also took a more urban ride through GG Park towards Ocean Beach and south to Lake Merced and back. Not a bad hour-long ride.

Furniture purchases this week were limited to a big leather chair, by the trendy outfit EQ3, from some yuppies who decided that after 1 whole year, they needed new furniture. The chair is great, but there is no coffee table or accompanying loveseat, let alone a TV, so it hasn't been in much use yet. I'm saving up for an LCD HDTV...I figure if I can go without TV until the Steelers start...

Friday I played frisbee golf (AKA frolf) with Otis, his cousin, and two of his friends, at the GG Park course. I bought some used frolf discs off some guy named, no joke, Marcus Aurelius, earlier that day, so I got to test them out. I still sucked. We went for Eritrean/Ethiopean food later that night with Elle and some other folks. Delicious.

Saturday morning, I was at Otis' place at 8:30AM sharp in order to get an early start on a big frolfing outing. Otis gets as excited as a little boy about many things, but none more so than with frolf. We were to head north on US 101 about 45 minutes to an awesome 18 hole course in a state park. Otis and I picked up his cousin Seth in Cole Valley and met his other cousin Caleb (known as "Cubby") and his friends, the brothers Mark ("Thor") and Kevin at the course. We played 18 holes under an amazing blue sky with a gentle breeze. The course had some incredible holes, including a 1000 yarder. The terrain was quite varied, with tree obstacles, downhill and uphill holes, and lots of thigh-high grass. We played team-skins, where each hole was won by the lowest combined score. I played with Otis, Kevin with Cubby, and Seth with Thor. Kevin and Cubby won. I was pretty awful, not reaching par on a single hole, but my drives definitely improved. My putting is fine, seeing as my drives suck so much that it takes me a few "drives" to get on the green, and by then, I'm close enough for a short putt. Seth turned out to be a gifted frolfer, with an amazingly straight and long drive. He birdied one hole, landing his drive just underneath the basket. (see picture I forced him to pose for)

The plan was to hit Cronkhite beach on the way home, but when we got there, it was about 55 degrees outside...ick.

The Bunnies have landed

Well, I've been in San Francisco since Thursday, trying to get myself settled. The facade of my place is in the picture to the left. The entrance to my apartment is to the left of the staircase.

I've scouted out the standard grocery stores, Asian groceries, and drug stores. I hit up Bed, Bath and Beyond for the random accoutrements necessary to organize one's crap, and I got my temporary parking permit today. Hitting the DMV on Thursday--I even made an appointment.

I'm waiting for a fancy vertical bike rack to arrive in the mail, and I'm picking a great leather chair tomorrow. I put books in a cool Craigslist-purchased bookshelf with glass doors.



I bought a mattress and am awaiting a delivery date--I hope it fits through the door, even with a split box spring. The first two pieces of furniture in my apartment are my little Bunnies, the red leather swivel barstools you can see in the picture! It's nice to have a place to sit, especially a chic place.

On Saturday, I took a phenomenal bike ride out to Tiburon. I printed out a cue sheet from the Velo Bella website and followed it. Out across the Golden Gate Bridge, through Sausalito, out to Tiburon and looping back through Sausalito--it was about 41 miles with a few good hills, but nothing so bad that would make me cry for a granny gear. I could see the bay during about 60% of the ride! Insane!

Lay off the whiskey and let that cocaine be

Today's Mileage: 250. Caffeine units: 44 oz Diet Pepsi. Enormous burritos: 0.5. Total trip iPod usage: 350 songs out of 850. Nerdy medical school audio lectures: 16.

Okay, so this post is about 12 hours late, mainly due to finicky internet access. I woke up upside-down in my bed in Reno and took that as a sign to get the hell out of there ASAP. I loaded the car, checked out, and noted that daylight did NOT do wonders for the super-sketchy people that seem to populate the area, whether employed or not.

Soon I was back on I-80 and the second I crossed into California (see good sign pic), the terrain just beautified as if by magic. Pine trees galore over a very arid brown, mountains. The highway quality, on the other hand, gave me flashbacks to Pennsylvania. The road bed was disintegrating and needed some serious TLC. The vibe got tossed around in the right lane, so I decided to commit the sin of traveling in the passing lane.

The ascents and descents in the Sierras were intense. One minute a sign would shout out "Elev. 6000 ft." and two minutes later another would shout "Elev. 2000 ft."

Outside of Sacramento, where the highways suddenly expanded from 4 lanes to 8, I took a detour to Folsom Prison (this one's for Lee "The Man in Black" Smith). On the way I saw the sweetest caramel-colored Mustang, driven by rather hot guy. I digress. Perhaps when the prison was first built, there was nothing around but a beautiful lake and dam, but the prison is presently surrounded by suburban sprawl with a central zone of "historic Folsom." The only parts of the prison visible to the visitor where the outside walls and one of the gates. There were numerous signs forbidding visitors to pass a certain point. I forgot my wallet in the car and was too lazy to go procure the $2 fee for the museum. I did see two beautiful, enormous birds soar above my head, but I am not the greatest bird-watcher to be able to identify them from their undersides.

Back on the road, US-50 this time--an 8-lane beauty that courses along the southern side of Sacramento (I-80 is to the north)--I headed for SF. Back on I-80, I stopped in Vacaville for a giant burrito and took half in a doggy bag for dinner.

Forty minutes later, I was crossing from Oakland into San Francisco, and the skies were clear blue. I made it to my apartment, unpacked, and started cleaning--the construction dust layered all the surfaces. I hit up the local "made in China" store for my cleaning supplies and random house gear. Otis stopped by after a trip to the local home brew store (he's kegging his latest batch today) and ate my burrito.

I met Otis and Elle for beers near Alamo Square (their 'hood), riding my Fuji Thrill there and back, helmet and flashing light attached to my rear pocket. Otis bought me some pizza before I came home and passed out. From exhaustion. From exhaustion, really.

This will not be the end of my blog, superfans, but I'll try to keep to interesting things, not the mundane! Apartment pictures to come.

From SLC to BWI

Today's mileage: 560. Caffeine units: 64 oz Diet Pepsi. Alcohol units: on my way to 24 oz. Oil changes: 1. U-turns: 3 (looking for non-fast food). Minutes spent trying release bike rack fastener to no avail: 10.

I slept like a baby in a fantastic pillow top king-sized bed and awoke to a steady downpour outside. And it was 45F, a lovely summer day in Utah. The pleasant surprise of Cinnamon Toast Crunch at the continental breakfast took the sting out of the weather. As I munched my high fructose corn syrup, watching the local Fox affiliate's morning news, I noted that a commercial for a "family values oriented" talk radio station was directly followed by the return-to music to the newscast: a wordless version of the Village People's YMCA. Oh, the delight.

I took the Vibe to a nearby Pep Boys for an oil change and spent the waiting time watching Tiki Barber on the Today show demonstrate kiddie toys and learning what bikini styles are best for pregnant women this summer. After the Vibe got serviced, I drove through BYU, whose architecture was less than exciting. But it definitely wins points on setting. Though the low-hanging clouds obstructed the view of almost all the surrounding mountains, I used my imagination. On the way back to the hotel, I noticed a number of billboards for "modest" clothing, from wedding dresses to shorts. That and more than one plasma donation center. Huh?

After checking out of the hotel and loading my bikes in 45F rain, I drove north to Salt Lake City. The city layout is in a grid with each street 1/10th of a mile apart. Every 1/10th mile, the street number is increased by 100, so 7 miles away to the south, the street is called 7000 S, running east to west. Thrilling. I drove up the one hill in the downtown to the state capitol building and then whizzed by the monstrous Mormon church complex.

Then I headed out towards I-80 along the Great Salt Lake. It was pouring outside, so I pulled over for just a second to look at the lake--it smelled awful. I got back on the road and headed towards Nevada, first passing through the salt flats. The rain storm was intermittent, and in the distance I could see various mountain ranges. In fact, the entire drive today was like strolling through a museum of mountains. I had my little guide--my map--and kept trying to identify the various groupings of beautiful peaks in the distance. The Ruby Mountains were my favorite. For the most part, the drive was flat, but there were occasional ascents through passes as high as 6000ft, above the snow line. The towns in Nevada that I saw lay between I-80 and foothills of mountains. The towns like to display an enormous version of the first letter of their names on these foothills. I couldn't tell if it was paint or cleared brush or what, but Carlin had a big "C" in the distance, and Wells had a "W." I couldn't help but chuckle as I passed through Battle Mountain.

I stopped in Elko for a sanity break and in Winnemucca for non-fast food but couldn't find any. Winnemucca has the most amazing setting--it's essentially right along the snow line between two sets of peaks. But the town was just depressing--it's a pseudo-halfway point between Salt Lake and Reno, so it's pretty much a truck stop with lots of motels.

I got back on the road, and as I made my way towards Reno, I noticed hundreds of roadside graffiti made out of rocks--people had stopped along the highway, collected rocks, and spelled out their names, their frat letters, and their professions of love. Too bad no one took into account the need to elongate the letters for optimal perception from the highway--it was pretty difficult to make out the messages unless they were on a small upslope.


I made it to Reno, and after checking into my luxurious accommodations (read: Rodeway Motel), I found that there were zero non-fast-food restaurants in the vicinity. So I hit the bottle. I love beer, especially when it's sold at a gas station. I then found out that the "free wireless internet" advertised on-line was limited to the lobby, which closed at 10PM and does not permit alcohol. So I am presently sitting in my car outside the lobby, surfing the net and drinking beer. I just hope I get a ticket for BWI.

Tomorrow I go to Cali!

Sensory Overload

Today's miles: 650, including out-and-back in Arches. Total caffeine units: 44 oz + 20 oz Diet Pepsi, Starbucks Double Shot Light. Number of wrong turns (trying to find motel): 2. U-turns: 2.

Earlybird Mancusis were up before 6AM, when my alarm woke up my lazy butt. Mike left to get his conference started, and Karen and I took the doggies for a walk then said our goodbyes. It was such a great stay with Karen and Mike. Whenever I see Karen, which is usually at least 6 months after the previous visit, it's like we never were apart.

By 8:15AM, I was on the road, heading southwest towards I-70 instead of I-80. At Karen's recommendation, I stayed away from Denver rush hour and I-25 and instead drove through Boulder to I-70. I wanted to take the canyon road US-6, but there was some crazy traffic due to construction, so I made a U-ey and went the standard way. My baby Vibe handled the climb into the mountains pretty well. I stopped in Vail to see what the fuss was all about--it was gloriously sunny at that point, and the town of Vail is situated at the bottom of a mountain, very well manicured. The amount of ongoing construction suggested that Vail-ites don't like it when their condos, lodges, and hotels get more than 20 years old. I took a switchback road up a hill to check out the multimillion dollar set and found that I'm glad I don't ski, knowing that these places exist!





Back on I-70, my fellow drivers and I did a little dance with the Colorado River, switching side, dipping over each other. The river was moody--at some points rather complacent and lazy, at other points rowdy. I struggled to keep my eyes on the road--it had to compete with river-carved canyons and tunnels through solid rock. I eventually made it into Utah. This time, I pulled off the road and took a quality portrait of the sign, so you better appreciate it! In the distance to the north the Book Cliffs--to the south a mesa. At around 2:30, I pulled off at a Scenic View and put my head down for half an hour. The wind whipped through my car--I had to keep the windows open since it was over 90F. I was really exhausted and was considering skipping my plans to visit Arches National Park. But I figured it was a sin not to go there when I was so close.



The road from I-70 to Moab, UT, is a designated scenic by-way. I wasn't convinced, seeing rather desolate mounds of dirt and scrubbrush all around. But in the distance, I could see snow-capped peaks and some purple-pink looking cliffs--I wasn't disappointed. After about 10 miles on this empty road, the Colorado River valley exploded--soon, for hundreds of feet vertically on either side, impressive cliffs of sandstone, two types stacked one on top of the other, surrounded me. The road hugged the southern side of the river, and the scree slopes were punctuated by enormous boulders broken free from the cliffs. This went on for 30 more miles, and I couldn't stop taking pictures. I was just blown away. Finally, I made it to the turn for Arches. I was low on gas, so I turned towards Moab to fill up, but found myself sitting in yet another construction jam. U-turn number two and a gamble on gasoline.


I filled up my water bottle at the Visitor's center at Arches and headed to do the lazy girl's tour of the park. It was after 4PM, the park closes at 6:30PM, I was hungry and it was HOT, so I decided not to bike around. That and the altitude. So I drove the entire park--second after second, I was blown away by the geological formations in Arches. Besides the eponymous water and wind-eroded sandstone, there is a visible fault line, delicately balanced rock towers, and petrified sand dunes. Someday I will return with more time and a traveling companion to do hikes out to the rock formations. I am nervous leaving my car and bikes and then hiking on my own. My gas gauge nearing E (but I know I had at least 60 miles worth left), I coasted out of the park in neutral and found that the traffic jam had cleared. I filled my tank, hit up the Wendy's, and squatted in a Days Inn parking lot to mooch their free Wi Fi.

By 7PM, I got back on the road and headed back to I-70 via a different route. Again, the panorama was intense. Then I took US-6 all the way to Provo. It was getting dark as I climbed, winding through rocky passes, so I don't have a good idea of what the terrain really looked like. Provo--or the Salt Lake City metropolitan area appeared out of nowhere--I could make out some mountain in the distance, but I'm looking forward to seeing this joint in the daylight.

Over the shoulder Boulder holder

Today's Mileage: 41 (on bicycle). This morning, after Karen and Mike left for work, I headed out for a great ride around the area. I did a counter-clockwise loop starting in Longmont, heading north then west to the foothills of the Rockies, and then south towards Boulder. Dozens of other cyclists were on the road, half of them women. Doesn't anyone work around here on Mondays? The view of the Rockies and Flatirons was constant throughout the southern leg.

On the way into Boulder, I saw an intriguing new housing development, with colors and architectural styles I'd never before seen. Deep blues, silvers, reds, and yellows...townhouses, apartments, single family homes, duplexes...all in a tight little community. It was such a departure from the painfully boring Toll Brothers or KHOV developments that litter the PA Turnpike. I later found out that the development has a significant portion of "affordable" housing units, places that people like Karen and Mike--a schoolteacher and Forest Service employee--could afford in the inflated Boulder housing market.

I explored downtown Boulder--it's been exquisitely gentrified into a 16-square blocks of high-end shops and restaurants, with a middle pedestrian street. It's lovely. Then I climbed the hill to check out the University of Colorodo, which incredible pale red stone (I think it's sandstone, but nothing looked eroded). I took a picture with the Bison outside the stadium.



Soon an ominous storm moved in from the mountains, so I high-tailed it out Boulder on the most direct route back to Longmont. It took me about 10 minutes to out-pedal the storm, and the tailwind let me cruise at 24-25 mph most of the way home.





After playing with the 3 doggies, I went off to endulge in my one girlie vice--the mani-pedi. Now I have bright orange nails--and I'm rocking it. Karen came home from work, and we napped and then drove to Boulder--to look at homes we could never afford and to have some wine. Then we met up with Mike to help him set up for the conference he's hosting on "Invasive Species Eradication." Another full day of fun.

Destination: Hotel Mancusi

Today's mileage: approx. 350. The morning in Hot Springs, South Dakota, was a glorious one. After getting my fill of George Stephanopolous trying to reign in Jack Murtha, I hit the road, heading southwest towards Wyoming. The green ranchland and a sky littered with perfect little cumulus clouds kept me awake, and I marveled at long, horizontally-slatted fences that were placed in the fields, almost parallel to the road. Were they windbreakers or snow-drift fences or something else entirely? At one point, I saw a sudden explosion of dust rising in the distance--I thought something had blown up, but it was just an enormous bull bathing himself in dust! US-18/85/20 followed a railroad route, and I saw numerous coal-laden trains. As I came over a crest in Wyoming, I got my first-ever look at the Rocky Mountains! Of course, I've seen them from an airplane, but never from the ground.

At the two hours and change mark, I hit I-25 South and headed for Cheyenne, the capital city of Wyoming. Leo Kottke, in a great live album, tells a fanstastic story about his father working at the Cheyenne VA Hospital, so I figured I should at least check out the city. It's surrounded by lovely homes and has two main downtown streets, along one of which run the various government and administrative buildings. The other, perpendicular street is commercial. Going several blocks in either direction from these streets are empty parking lots and buildings. An enormous Union Pacific Railroad yard is at the southern end of the city while the Air National Guard airport is in the north. Cheyenne is very clean, and the capital building is lovely and has a statue commemorating Wyoming's trailblazing efforts in women's rights.




I essentially missed the sign welcoming me to Colorado, as you can see in the picture. I considered pulling a mulligan and taking the next exit to turn around but thought better of it. So we'll have to live with the half-sign. At least the sky is beautiful.

Another hour south found me tooling around in Fort Collins, a very happening university town. The Colorado State University is gorgeous--pale yellow brick building in various architectural styles--and the railroad runs straight through campus! (I'm seeing a pattern here). There are bike lanes throughout the city, and every restaurant had rows of bikes parked in front of it.

I finally decided that it was high time I get my butt to Longmont, Colorado, where Karen and Mike Mancusi make their home, about 10 miles or so north of Boulder. They have a lovely house and two adorable, trouble-making dogs, Mona and Morris, and are dog-sitting a sweet-tempered Husky mix, Dart, who I think also has a little Kluver-Bucy in her. Karen, Mike, and I headed to a near-by 9-hole frolf course (a.k.a. frisbee golf), first stopping for the requisite Sunday afternoon ice cream. Our frolfing was a mixed bag--Mike had his best game ever, Karen her worst, and I managed improvement in my distance but hit some dude who was standing in the fairway. Oops. The picture is of Mike making a shot from the rough, i.e. under a pine tree!

We walked through their neighborhood of beautiful prairie style homes with luscious flower gardens to "downtown" Longmont for dinner and followed that up with a 3-on-3 dog walking escapade. All in all a great day! Tomorrow I plan to bike around the Longmont-Boulder area--should be an experience.

Before I sign off, I must give you a full sense of the electronic wonderland set-up that I have going on in the Vibe. My car has a standard 2-prong outlet, so I got a 2-prong-to-3-prong converter and attached to that a power strip. Therefore, I can plug in my laptop and recharge my phone, earpiece, and digital camera battery as I drive along. My iPod is hooked up to my cigarette lighter via a combined charger/FM transmitter so I can listen to my iPod over my car stereo. I've also been listening to stuff I've downloaded onto my computer. I am veritable techno-dweeb.

Sioux me

Well, it was another big day of driving and touring--another 400 miles, give or take. I woke to thunderstorms in Sioux Falls, so I decided to take my time getting ready for the road. An hour after eating breakfast with a gaggle of girl soccer players, I found myself in Mitchell, traipsing around the Corn Palace (that's corn, not porn, Steinberg). It's basically an overgrown high school gym--it has a basketball court and large auditorium seating with a big stage. On the walls are murals made out of, you guessed it, corn cobs. The outside is similarly decorated. Onward and upward--but first a stop to fill the tank. Some very exciting findings at the gas station--the classic double toilet restroom and ammunition for sale on a folding table.

Another few hours later, having declined the pleadings of billboards advertising Dick's "24 hr TOE Service," I found myself at a scenic overlook with views of the Missouri river and some great bridges. South Dakota is not terribly flat--there is some terrain variation that kept me interested. Soon thereafter I took the exit for the Badlands National Park. I drove the 30+ mile scenic loop through the incredible landscape. I took a million pictures. The landscape seemed to come out of nowhere--one second you're in rolling green hills; the next you've dropped into valleys of carved limestone stripes. It was a strange incarnation of the concept of potential--I wonder if those green hills hide similar limestone towers. Kind of reminded me of making molds and casts in grade school art class.

The Badlands loop takes you to Wall, whose Wall Drug has by now been beaten in your mind by hundreds of billboards like "Wall Drug, advertised in Keyna, Africa." I got some butterscotch ice cream at Wall Drug.

On to Mount Rushmore--the town nearby is like a very toned-down Pidgeon Forge. There's a phenomenal information center and viewing pavilion made of granite. The sculpture is pretty stunning--what got me were the eyeballs--the pupils had light reflexes! And a note to others--the mountain is best viewed in the morning--I got the evening sun, which sets behind and to the left of the president-heads, making viewing and photographing tricky.

Next, I headed to the Crazy Horse monument project--an enormous mountain sculpture-in-progress commissioned by the Lakota Nation elders. Started about 60 years ago, it's funded by visitors' fees and private donations--no federal government money. The head of Crazy Horse alone is bigger than all 4 Rushmore heads--and that's only a small part of the planned sculpture. Who knows if it will ever be finished, but if anyone can do it, it seems to be the obsessive family of the sculptor (he had 10 kids).

I closed up the night drving through Wind Cave National Park and saw hundreds of little prairie dogs darting from hole to hole--the terrain looked like a golf course: very close-cropped vegetation. And two scraggly looking bison and herds of deer. Closing the night in Hot Springs, South Dakota. I don't think it's a coincidence that the Miss South Dakota pageant is in town--I've grown tired of wearing my tiara for the last year.

Iowa, I owe ya

What a fantastic day! Another 450 miles added to the odometer. This morning, my body decided that I should get my heart rate out of the double-digit range, so I went for a half-hour jog, making multiple loops around a large block that contained, among other things, a disaster-recovery service and a semi-trailer repair garage. Fantastic scenery. But soon I was on my way towards Iowa City. I resisted the urge to tour what was billed as the "World's Largest Truckstop" and made to Iowa City, where I decided to drive around the town and the University--beautiful! It's located on pretty green hills. As I visited the UI stadium, the skies opened up and I decided to get back on the road.

Another hour later, I stopped off at Grinnell and checked out the college. The campus is small but lovely, and I must have counted at least 5 buildings that have been built over the last 5 years--a gym/recreation center, a large set of dorms, a student center, and some enormous classroom-type building. So, it's a neat mixture of early 1900s classic brick with stylish contemporary architecture. Someone's giving Grinnell mad cash!! Oh--and the train runs directly through campus--not alongside campus--straight through the middle of it!

The rain storm I'd outrun on my way to Grinnell caught up with me there, so I got back on I-80 and plowed my way through a ridiculous downpour. Later in the day, I heard on public radio that storm turned into tornadoes back in the Quad Cities area!

Next, I hit up Des Moines, which has quite a highway running right through it, I-235. This sucker is 6 lanes, brand new, with brand new overpasses for pedestrians and roads. The bridge pictured is a pedestrian overpass! I saw a sign for something called "Terrace Hill National Historic Site" and followed subsequent instructions. Turns out it's the Iowa Governor's Mansion, but the site closes at 1:30PM (I arrived at 1:45PM). It's a beautiful property, so I walked around as a State Trooper eyed me from afar. I had lunch in a nearby cafe with free wireless internet. The girl behind the counter had purple hair and said "huh?" after every sentence I uttered. After identifying a bike shop in Sioux City, I hightailed it back to I-235 and met up with I-80.

In Sioux City, I pulled up to Albrecht bike shop only to find that it had closed at 5:30PM (it was 5:45PM--see a recurring theme here?). But there was a guy inside who was just pulling out for a ride, and I gathered some presumptuousness and asked to join him. Jon "Woody" Nelson and I rode for about an hour, making a clockwise loop around northwestern Sioux City, riding along the Missouri river, climbing a steep (but short) hill in Stone State Park, and descending back into the city. Unbeknownst to me, I got sand in my left cleat while stopping at an overlook into Nebraska. This rendered the act of unclipping from my pedal futile, and I fell on my ass at a traffic stop. Very classy, very graceful. Only evidence is a quarter-sized spot of road rash on my knee. At least Woody got some entertainment in return for his kindness in taking me out for a spin!

After tooling around Sioux City for a bit, all sweat-nasty, I drove up to to Sioux Falls, South Dakota. I vote my "Welcome to South Dakota" the absolute worst, but I included it for completeness-sake. The drive up I-29 made up in scenery what it lacked in directional variety (i.e. straight as an arrow). On my left was a very broad Jacob's ladder--a veritable wall of light strands. On my right, to the east, was a slate-colored wall corresponding to the trailing edge of the stormfront I'd passed through earlier. Add in the endless planted fields, and you have a rich landscape that was never boring. Now I'm outside of Sioux Falls, ready for bed.