To start on Day one click here.
Today was the day I learned to dislike major interstate freeways. I-84 was not designed for cyclists. While I did learn to enjoy the massive momentary tail-wind from passing semi trucks, the constant threat of certain death wears on a person.
As always first order of the day was food. You may be asking yourself if there is enough nutrition in McDonald’s menu items to power someone across the US on a bicycle. I asked myself the same question almost every morning. On a bicycle you don’t have the luxury of finding a good place to eat, you want something that is close to the road and convenient. The US highway system is designed to accommodate motorists not cyclists although I promised myself if I saw subway I would stop to get at least some lettuce.
Crossing into my first new state did give me a rush of accomplishment. It was short lived as I realized I had been riding for 4 days already and was across just one state. With 12+ to go I did for a brief moment contemplate turning around.
The shoulder of I-84 has rumble strips. These are designed to help motorists who are falling asleep and drifting over the line to wake up. While that is somewhat reassuring to a cyclist it also takes up a good portion of the shoulder area unless one wants to listen to their teeth chatter. The recessed strips also serve as riffles that catch and hold all kind of debris.
I was introduced to the plant Tribulus terrestris today. Common name goathead or puncturevine, I believe the puncturevine label to be the most accurate. These invasive poor soil, arid loving plants thrive where most other plants won’t even sprout. They apparently line the highways of Idaho. The little seeds fall off the plant and get blown into the roadway. Where they promptly insert themselves into any passing cyclist’s tire. I do not even recall how many times I replaced my tubes. To this point in my journey I had simply been removing the flat tube and replacing with a new one. I had packed more new tubes than anyone would think necessary. I had planned on one flat tire every 500 miles. I was incorrect in my assessment. By the end of my days ride I would be completely out of spare tubes. I decided to cut the day a bit short seeing as how I now had 2 flat tires and no tubes. I did have a patch kit that I had never used before so wanted to give myself plenty of time to make repairs. I was in mountain home when the last two goat heads struck, I could see a camping sign located at the offramp so I took it.
As I got closer to the “campground” I realized it was more of an rv permanent type campground for people a little down on their luck. With two flat tires I had little choice and there was grass and appeared to be public showers. I approached the motorhome labeled “manager” and knocked. When the friendly woman answered the door I inquired how much it would cost for the night. She asked where my vehicle was and I explained that the bicycle was my transportation and that I only required a small patch of grass somewhere to put up my tent. It was free, something in my day finally went right. I setup my tent and proceeded to try to fix all of my flat tubes.
I was not having much success with the patches. I had purchased the good ones from Germany that the bicycle shop recommended. The instructions were in German but they had a clear picture diagram that showed exactly how to do it. There as a 5 minute instruction after putting the glue on, so I had been putting the glue on and then holding the patch on the glue for 5 minutes. After 3 failed attempts at this, I noticed a young boy about 10 years of age watching me.
His name was Johnny and he lived in the campground. He explained that you had to let the glue sit on the tube for 5 minutes and then apply the patch. The grown man riding his bicycle across the country had just been given a lesson in bicycle flat repair from a 10 year old. I went to bed slightly disgusted with myself.
