Celebrating 150 Nights With Hosts

Where do I stay most often?  The hotels sky rocketed in SE Asia where rooms on average were 5 dollars a night

I’ve been on the road for about 320 days now, it’s hard to believe. What’s more incredible is that of those 320 days, I've spent 150 nights at the house of amazing hosts all around the world!  I’ve religiously used the Warmshowers tour cycling network in all the continents I’ve pedaled, but I’ve also stayed with friends, family, friend-of-friend, teachers, friends-of-teachers, and completely random strangers! I’ve been taken in by Muslim families in Turkey and Southeast Asia, Buddhists, hosted by firefighters and paramedics, retired couples, young students, and young families. My lists of hosts is as ecletic and random as there is, but they all have one thing in common; they've given me unconditional support gone out of their way to take care of me while being on the road.  I thought I’d be doing a lot more camping, but the reality is, I am a social young lady and love being around the company of others, especially locals because it allows me to learn and gain insight to the community around me. I also have to admit, a warmshower at the end of the day is my #1 motivation at the end of a long day of riding!

Mary and Steve Layman enjoying elk burgers plus goodies in Gillette, Wyoming

I celebrated staying at the house of my 150^th host last week in Gillette, Wyoming and there was something oddly familiar about the Layman’s.  Steve and Mary are on the list of Warmshowers hosts in Wyoming, a state with few hosts!  The Layman’s aren’t always labeled as available due to summer plans and work schedules, but I got lucky to catch them while they were home.  In the three years they have been on Warmshowers, they’ve hosted almost 50 cyclists and have created the neatest guestbook to document all their tour cyclist visitors. For residents of a small town in Wyoming, Warmshowers exposes them to the world with some neat encounters with people from all over the world. 

This is their guestbook which is always fun to read.  Many hosts have one to record their visitors.

I always wonder how people hear about Warmshowers, especially a family like this in the northeast corner of a state where there isn’t a huge cycling community.  It turns out their youngest son went to school in Missoula, Montana and he turned his dad onto "The Crazyguy on a Bike" blog. It is here that while researching tour cycling with hopes of doing a trip some day in the future, Steve discovered Warmshowers and signed up.  He came home one day and casually told Mary and his son Aaron, who also lives at home, that he had signed up for this site called Warmshowers  to host cyclists on the road.  Steve’s famous last words were, “Don’t worry, Mary, no one will contact us, no one would come through this part of Wyoming!”  Wouldn’t you know they had the first guest two days later and the rest is history!  The Layman’s have some great stories from all their guests. My favorite was a solo Polish cyclist who arrived and never had brownies before.  Well, Mary is a phenomenal cook and baker and made a tray of brownies that vanished in the matter of minutes!  With every bite, the Polish cyclist with his Polish accent said, “This chocolate cake is really good!”

There is the camper van where cyclists usually stay, quite cozy with all your basic needs

Usually their cyclists stay in a camper van they have parked in the backyard  that they use during hunting season (I LOVE my camper vans as you know), but since temperatures were close to a 100F, they put me up in the basement.  I knew I was going to get along great with the Layman’s. In email correspondence leading up to my visit, Mary asked me what sort of food I wanted.  I never know how to answer this question, but I hadn’t eaten fish in a long time and always like my fresh fruits and vegetables.  As it turns out, Mary is a superb cook and Steve and their sons fish and hunt, so their freezer was full of all fresh fish and meat! I lucked out!  They had an all-you-can eat salad buffet waiting for me when I arrived and I chowed down while sharing stories from my trip.  

The first night we hit it off so well and couldn’t stop laughing and telling stories.  We had a lot in common that kept making me feel like I was right at home, from the setup of their house to their kids and all their activities.  Their oldest son Cole is living in Prague, teaching English.  Although he wasn’t home, they filled me in on his international living and working experience.  It was refreshing to hear of another young adventurous soul in their early thirties with a strong desire to explore the world.  Like me, it seems like Cole is also hooked on living overseas. It was hard for Mary at first, but since they went over and visited him, they are a lot more comfortable.  Plus Cole calls all the time.  In fact while I was there he called looking for a small piece of paper hidden in one of his desk drawers.  He wanted his mom to go down and look for it in his room while they were on the phone.  You might think this is a crazy request, but I could totally relate to Cole’s request and Mary's determination to find what he was looking for.  I have called my parents countless times to have them look in this drawer or that cupboard trying to find a paper, document, or clothing item that I need.  What would children abroad do without the endless efforts of their parents back at home?

After the salad buffet came round two: pasta, fish, chips and guacamole, more salad, you name it!  

S'mores, desert #1, I was actually craving them the other day, wouldn't you know?

I was only going to stay one night, but I was just too comfortable and I needed a day off from the bike.  I had been pedaling for 9 consecutive days with some severe weather conditions and long distances and the Layman's house was like heaven on earth to me at that point.  Steve had prepared a map for me to help plan the next stages of my route.  The map was color-coded with elevation and mileage for each stage and the days he thought it would take me to get to each destination.  I could make it to the Tetons and Yellowstone faster than I had expected, which meant I would definitely take the following day off!

Steve prepared a great map to help plan my travels through Wyoming choosing the most scenic route

I made myself at home at the table, a delightful break from the bike

The next morning I slept in as long as possible and spent the morning talking with Mary and getting some work done on my website.  They have a back patio setup similar to that at my parent’s house so I plopped myself down on the table outside in the shade of the umbrella and worked away. I could hear the Aspen leaves blowing on the trees and the sound of birds chirping, both relaxing and familiar sounds to my ears.  At lunchtime, when I came in, I discovered Mary had been busy baking up a storm and preparing lunch for me.  She pulled everything out of the fridge and again, I went through a buffet line of options and was absolutely delighted.  Selection is perfect for a cyclist’s cravings.  I can’t explain how I can stomach a combination such as cottage cheese with sandwich meat, pickles, salad, cheese, crackers, fresh fruit, and brownies, but I do!  I sat inside to avoid the afternoon sun while Mary was out in the garden working, covered from head to toe, just like my mom, to protect herself from the sun.  Their backyard was beautiful and looked a lot like my parent’s with a variety of flowers, plants, and a small vegetable garden.

Don't leave food out or unattended, I WILL eat it! I can't help myself.....

Steve came home that afternoon from work and stated enthusiastically, “Mary, it looks like we got a squirrel!”   I could tell Mary was a bit embarrassed because she replied, “Steve, I wasn’t going to say anything about that in front of Melissa!”  I had to laugh and out loud! Trapping squirrels probably isn't a topic of conversation you boast about with guests around your house, if fact most people might think you are crazy if you mention that you trap squirrels in your backyard, but it just so happens that my mom is also an avid squirrel trapper, so I could relate to Steve's enthusiasm to see his trap occupied.  In Eugene, our old neighbors used to have squirrel feeders, so they frequently visited our yard eating all the nuts on our front walnut tree, leaving the shell debris all over the driveway, which meant for more sweeping and raking.  My mom was up against a loosing battle, but it seemed like Steve and Mary only had a few squirrels who were attacking their tomato plants.  However, three days after I left, Mary told me the squirrel count was up to 6!

Squirrel cages don't harm the squirrel in any way and it is easy to release them.

This was actually the first time Steve and Mary had captured a squirrel and Steve didn’t know exactly where to let it go.  He disappeared with the cage for at least 45 minutes and when he came back we all had a good laugh.  Paranoid the squirrel would find his way home, he had let it go 15 miles away at a cemetery over a mountain pass.  My mom releases them about 4 miles from our house and they don’t seem to come back, so Steve was being overly cautious!

I never have a running companion, what a treat!

That evening Steve and I went for a run.  I’m still trying to increase my running mileage so that the New York City Marathon isn’t painful come November.  Steve is also a distance runner and led me on a great route through the city and countryside all along a path.  When we were out of the run, Steve found some coins on the ground.  He told me he collects them from his run and sure enough at home, he had a jar full of change that he had found while out running.  To date, for this year, he is up to almost 30 dollars in change found on runs in the town.  Now he's got me looking on the ground for money when I run and cycle!

It was 10pm by the time we sat down for dinner the second night.  In Oregon the Pritchard's are notorious for late dinners, but with my Spanish influence, I'm used to it!  We had elk burgers, a first for me!  I was delighted because I had never tried elk meat before, and what a great place to do so since the Layman’s hunt, process, and package their own meat.  I couldn’t have asked for fresher, leaner, or more flavorful meat. YUM!

It was a big celebration for 15, 681 miles

I've never blown out so many candles on a cake before!

For desert they surprised me with a cake with candles to celebrate my new milestone on my trip.  That afternoon I had calculated my distance pedaled thus far in the ten and a half month on the road and I was up to 15,681 miles (25,236km).  They never had a cyclist at their house that had cycled so many miles.  I joked with Mary and asked her what the people at the grocery store said when she went to check out with such an eclectic mix of candles.  Mary was so proud to host me, she told all the people in the grocery store about my trip.  Most people don’t get the whole bike touring thing unless they see the fully loaded bike or have a good sense of geography, and the clerks at this store were no different.  The clerk seemed confused and appalled and couldn't get over the fact that Mary takes in strangers to her house.  The clerk clarified,..... “You mean you let total strangers stay at your house?”

Yes! That is what Warmshowers is all about and any type of hosting that I do on my trip.  People open their doors to me and share experiences about our lives, including cycling, work, travel, you name it.  It usually happens that there are more stories and experiences to share than time permits when I stay with hosts.  The bike is such a great topic of conversation and provides endless hours of entertainment.  My trip has been so much more fulfilling thanks to the local people who have hosted me when I roll up to their area. Whether they be Warmshowers or not, I appreciate the company of the people who take me in.  I learn a lot from them during my stay and it's refreshing to meet such diverse people in our world.  Lately, it has become harder and harder for me to get on the road in the morning as was the case with the Layman’s.  Mary and Steve wanted me to stay, they even asked if they could adopt me!  I was especially fond of the Layman's and it just so happens that my 150th night of hosts coincided with staying at their house in Gillette.

Like I said, I’ve been on the road for almost a year now, a nomad and homeless for 320 days.  This is the longest period of time in my life that I’ve not had a home base and I’ve never been more comfortable around total strangers in my entire life! I’ve spent 150 nights at other people’s homes and I can’t thank them enough for their hospitality, support, and love!  You’ve all taken great care of me around the world and made my experience on the road incredibly memorable and enjoyable as a result! 

Thank you! Gracias!  Merci!

The Little Rewards On My Trip

Devil's Tower from a distance

The idea of a reward on this trip is totally relevant.  I have to admit however, most people find it hard to believe that riding 60 to 90 miles day-after-day is enjoyable!  In fact they are more likely to classify it as pure torture! Some days are harder than others, awful headwind, hot temperatures, limited services on the road, and grueling climbs.  There are days when I arrive at my destination and I don’t want to see my bike for another week.   Other times, I don’t even make it to my designated destination and have to come up with a plan B.  Many wonder,…..What keeps me motivated? People ask me this question a lot and to tell you the truth, I can’t pinpoint one specific motive.  I’d say it’s a culmination of elements.  For an avid cyclist and explorer who seeks new adventures like myself, those 60 to 90 miles are filled with plenty of treasured moments, unforgettable encounters, and prized scenery that makes every mile worth pedaling.

You can't even imagine how excited I was to find these oranges, I hit the jackpot!!

During the course of a day there also seem to be plenty of little rewards, little prizes, besides the scenery and meeting new people that keep me pedaling. One day, I thought I had won the lottery when I found about a dozen oranges just off the shoulder of the road.  They were perfectly edible and ripe so I gathered as many as I could fit in a plastic bag and tied them to the back of my bike.  I had oranges for a week (actually they last about a day and a half)!  Lucky me!  Sometimes I’m tickled to death when I find good deals and delicious treats in the day old “Specials” carts at the supermarkets.  Fruit, veggies, day-old pastries…..while some consider it over ripe or not fresh enough to eat, it is the perfect snack for me and marked at an unbeatable price.  Lots of times gas stations let me fill my big water bottle for free with an energy drink or soda, and don’t charge me for a coffee refill.  I know, it seems ridiculous that something so small like that can make me so happy, but it does!

Just look at those deals, and a basket full of them.  No wonder I come out of a supermarket with 10 extra lbs. on my bike!

Upon arriving at Devil’s Tower a few days back, I had a different kind of reward waiting for me.  I had contacted the Warmshowers host there, a “Frank” who states that he is a rock climbing guide who works at the Devil’s Tower lodge.  There is a profile picture of a man with long white hair and some funky retro glasses.  I started envisioning this man in my head as I road to the National Monument. Frank told me there was plenty of room to camp at the lodge and if I arrived by seven, I could eat dinner with “them”.  To me, them meant the staff.  I pictured this place to be a huge old lodge with hundreds of tourists pouring in and out, like you see at many of the National Parks in the states during the summer.  I thought I’d be spending my evening with a bunch of college students with summer jobs at the lodge, avid rock climbers,…..and Frank. Frank, I thought, must really love to rock climb and works in the hospitality industry doing any odd jobs at the lodge, just to be close to the monument to climb!  An ideal situation, really for any climbing enthusiast like himself!   

A patriotic setting for the fourth of July

The line to get into Devils Tower was ridiculous, luckily on a bike, I just pedaled on through

After a long day of riding in temperatures that reached 100F, I made the turn off from the highway to Devil’s Tower and expected to see the lodge would be right at the entrance.  Contrary to my mental picture, the only thing there was an eye sore of a KOA campground with music blasting for the fourth of July and a typical “trading post” with all sorts of touristy junk. Hoards of tourists were swarming the area eating ice cream, snacks, and going back and forth from their car to the shop.  Devil’s Tower stood there bold and tall in the backdrop, so I figured most tourists didn’t even bother to pay and enter the park to get a closer view.  The lodge was still not in sight and oddly; it wasn’t listed or drawn on the map of the park.  I called Frank and asked him for directions, only to find out I still had to pedal 3 another miles (at the end of a 65 miles day, 3 miles seems like 30)!  I would have settled for the KOA at this point, but convinced myself to follow through with my original plans.  After all, I had bought a huge bag of pretzels to bring to the staff dinner to share.  It took me a little longer to arrive than anticipated, I couldn’t stop taking pictures as I made my way around the circumference of the tower.  Frank gave good direction thankfully, because I still hadn’t seen a sign for the park lodge.  How did the herds of tourists find this accommodation without a single sign on the road?  Strange.  I turned on the dirt road I thought I was supposed to be on and saw a car coming barreling down kicking up all sorts of dust.  I flagged them down to ask them if I was on the right road to the lodge.  They said yes, at the “T” turn right.  They didn’t seem super friendly, so I continued on without chatting.  I got to the “T” made my right on a private drive and finally saw the first sign of the lodge. 

Devil's Tower Lodge,....not like I pictured it (Jimmy is mystified by how I actually pedal a 70lbs. bike)

It was different than I expected, it didn’t look like an official “park lodge” and was much smaller than I expected.  My mind was preoccupied with arriving for dinner, obviously, so I quickly got off my bike, grabbed the pretzels, and with my helmet and sunglasses still on, went up the side balcony door and right into the dining room!  It was 5 past 7; I had made it! Just in time for dinner!  I had walked right into the dining room where I found everyone, holding hands about to say grace.   Everyone in this case wasn’t staff as I had imagined, they seemed more like guests to me.  I was really confused about this lodge, but my hunger preoccupied my mind.  With my helmet still on and my dirty hands, I reached out and joined hands with the last two guests to say grace, led by a white-haired man at the end of the table with his back to the tower, Frank I presumed. 

The dining room overlooks the tower

“Melissa, you made it!” Frank said.  He welcomed me, said grace and dinner began.  I managed to get my hands washed and the pretzels on the table for all to enjoy, although they didn’t really fit in with the enchiladas, salad, and rice.  I was so excited to eat, but everyone else was intrigued and mystified by my presence. Who was this young woman and why was she in full on bike gear (not to worry, by now I had removed my helmet)? Where did she come from? I had a captive audience with a lot of questions; the food was going to have to wait.  I forget the shock element that comes along with hearing about my trip.  I tell so many people everyday about what I’m doing and I’ve been doing it for the last 11 months, that it has just become my normal life.  But nothing about it is normal for the other people who I encounter. Frank asked to share with them where I started my trip, when, and how many total miles I had done. Before anyone could take a bite of their dinner, their jaws dropped when they heard I was about 15,500 miles into my trip after being on the road for nearly 11 months, starting back in Barcelona.  After all, it’s not everyday you have dinner with a young lady who is riding solo around the world.

Jimmy, 84 years old, on a road trip with a lady friend, what delightful company!

Dinner was delicious and the conversation entertaining. Directly to my left was Jimmy, a nice elderly man, 84 years old to be precise.  He was so hard of hearing that I practically had to shout in his ear, but he was the sweetest old man who used to bike ride himself and incredibly curious.  After dinner he actually tried to pick up my bike and couldn’t, he was shocked by how much it weighed. I wondered what brought Jimmy to Devil’s Tower, and so he explained that so many of his friends were passing he decided he could either sit at home and sulk or go and visit his friends one last time.  From the bay area in California, he had flown up to Seattle, where he met a lady friend and together, the two set out on a road trip together visiting friends and family all the way as far east as Minnesota.  Remind you that he is 84, hard of hearing and driving.  That is a recipe for disaster if you ask me, especially being a cyclist. He did tell me that when he sees a cyclist ahead he gets way over even if it means entering the lane of oncoming traffic.  God bless him (more like god help him) out there on the road! I sure hope to never come across him on the road cycling.

The view from my room, can't beat it and front row parking for my bike

I was pleasantly delighted that the lodge was completely different than I had picture, even Frank himself!  Frank owns and runs a quaint bed and breakfast just off the park boundaries, that caters to a lot of rock climbers but also all different walks of life. At max capacity, as it was that night, it could hold about 15 to 20 guests plus tents for campers in the lawn. That is where I was going to stay for the night.  After dinner I helped clear the table, the least I could do for the meal they’d given me.  When the kitchen was tidy, I was ready to get washed up and set-up my tent.  I was told the showers was outdoors and there was a field where several other rock climbers had put their tent.  I went to thank Frank for the meal and say goodnight, when he surprised me and told me I had a room.  A What????  Yes, there was a cancellation and I had a room.

What a deluxe set-up for the night

He and his assistant brought me down a hall passed “my bathroom”, a huge double shower with all sorts of fun toiletries, to a room called “Windows”.  We walked in and there was a monstrous bed with a big window in front of it and right then I understood the name given to this room.  The view from the giant window was a pretty special one it looked directly upon the tower.  I couldn’t believe this was my room for the night! How did I get so lucky? What a reward for all my efforts pedaling.  Frank explained to me that there had been a last minute cancellation. Some ladies had arrived, looked at the room and decided they didn’t want it.  Remember the car full of the women who told me I was on the right road? For some reason, they didn’t want the room and Frank, was more than delighted they decided not to stay because that meant he could give the room to me!  He said, “Melissa, I don’t have to say this out loud, but I like to.  I believe in serendipity.  Those women were meant to not like this room so that I could offer it to you.  People like you are really neat and you impact and influence people whether you know it or not.  Look at the conversation at the dinner table tonight.  All of those people will be talking about you for weeks, amazed at your journey. You see, this was just suppose to happen!”  Frank’s words resonated; they sounded awfully familiar? It seems to me like Frank and Susan the Lakota spiritual teacher have met!

Frank and his assistant at Devils Tower Lodge

Ironically, being the fourth of July and all at a national monument, my first 4^th of July in the United States after 10 years, I was looking forward to seeing fireworks that night.  However, I was so thrilled with my room and the view, I didn’t want to leave.  I was perfectly content hearing the fireworks crackle outside while I enjoyed my deluxe suite inside.  How did I get so lucky?  What a big reward at the end of a long day.  Thanks to Frank, I won’t ever forget my first 4^th of July back in the States!

The view from in front of the Lodge

A pretty impressive rock, even more so close up on my run the next morning

Here’s one entertaining extra detail, just to remind me again to never say “never”.  I left Devil’s Tower the next morning a bit later after a nice trail run around the tower.  I took some pictures with my favorite elderly man, Jimmy, packed up, and set off.  Jimmy and his lady friend were about to leave as well.  I had a relatively easy day with pretty countryside scenery. I arrived in Gillette my destination a bit early and needed to go to a pharmacy before heading to my host’s house.  I approached a stop sign and waited for a car to show up to ask for directions.  I could see a car coming in my distance but they were driving so terribly slowly, I thought they’d never make it to the stop sign.  I looked closely as they pulled up beside me.  Who do you think it was: Jimmy and his lady friend.  I screamed with joy to acknowledge the coincidence, but the two didn’t seem as carefree and friendly as before.  Jimmy’s lady friend was talking on her smart phone (yes, an 80+ on a smart phone) using the speakerphone.  I could hear her shout into the phone, “No, no, he’s talking the another gal, the cycling girl from Devils Tower is here on the corner.”   Jimmy seemed flustered and shouted from across the driver seat, “I can’t believe you beat us here?  We are lost! We can’t find out BBQ!”  I thought to myself, if he drove as slowly the whole way to Gillette as he did to the stop sign at this intersection, it’s no wonder I beat them!  It looked like Jimmy was about to pull over to talk some more.   After all, we had bonded at the dinner table; we were friends. Jimmy turned the corner cautiously, then, all of a sudden, instead of breaking completely; he hit the accelerator nearly leaving all the rubber from his tire on the street.  Off they went, peeling away in a hurry to find the BBQ.  I was completely shocked and felt a little betrayed.  They didn’t even say good bye!  I took the next day off in Gillette.   That will give Jimmy and his friend a bit of a head start!  For safety sake, I hope we don’t find each other on the road again!

Spiritual Superstition...... or Call Me Crazy!

You might really think I’ve gone mad after reading this post, but I can’t help but publish the most peculiar experience I had a few nights back with my host.  I’ve started a list of all the interesting professions my hosts have who I've met along my trip. The list includes everything from swat medics to smoke jumpers, jubilee dancers, and skydivers in the Slovenian army.  They rank among the most unusual!   I’ve stayed with hosts of many religions from Muslim to Mormons, Buddhists to Hindu’s, but I had yet to stay with a Native American spiritual leader, until I met Susan, a Lakota spiritual educator, as she likes to call herself.  Although frankly, I think she is more along the lines of a “healer.”  I’m going to give you the facts of the situation and tell the events as they unraveled and you can interpret them as you like.

The Black Hills are quite touristy, but it is an enchanting area

I arrived to Hot Springs, South Dakota for the day just after 6pm.   Once again I was completely famished (this seems to be a common occurrence for me recently).  I’ve learned from experience NOT to plop down at the first place I see when I arrive at my destination, because the chances are I won’t ever get up.  I did pull up to the first food stop I saw in Hot Springs, but I only let myself buy two items, rather than a bagful of snacks.  This way, I would have a snack while contemplating my dinner and camping options and move on.  I was out on the steps in front of the store when an older woman approached, entering the store.  She wanted to know where I had come from.  I told her the short version, Hemingford, NE, a good 110 miles away.  It had been a long day making up some miles for the windy ride out of Scottsbluff.

The Black Hills of South Dakota, they get their name from the pine trees that cover them that look "black" from afar.

I never made it to the river, but I'm sure it was nice.....

She looked local, so I asked her where the best place was to access the river for a bath. After all, Hot Springs was a unique town in South Dakota’s southern Black Hills with a natural hot springs running right through the center for all to access.  She pointed out a path to take and so I asked her for good camping places in town where I might be a bit hidden and off the tourist path.  I wasn’t expecting her to offer me her own yard, but she did, and I didn’t hesitate to accept.  I could get set-up and then go explore town.  I waited for her to go in and buy the ice cream she came for, and then I followed her home on my bike, just a few minutes away. 

When I arrived, she told me that I was more than welcome to her spare bedroom, so I wheeled my bike under the carport and brought my stuff inside.  She pardoned her messy house, telling me she just arrived home after being gone all winter.  This I believed because things were a bit scattered, and her suitcase was still in the living room, but it didn’t bother me.  I was appreciative of a roof over my head and couldn’t believe I had lucked out with a host in a town where I planned on camping.  After washing up and getting settled, I asked her what she did in town, although I thought she might be retired.  At 70 years old, she was still working, she told me she was a Native American spiritual teacher.  I questioned, “Oh, like a healer?” Susan doesn’t like to think of herself as a healer, instead she described herself more as a bridge between the divine and the human world. 

Susan, my host, the Lakota spiritual teacher

Yes, go ahead and say it,...... “Melissa, you’ve gone crazy!”  If it wasn’t for being on my bike pedaling 20,000 miles (30,000km) on my way home, I probably wouldn’t have given much time or thought to a “spiritual healer” and shrugged her off as being a crazy old lady too!  But the more Susan explained about her work and life, the more fascinated I became!  She was filled with wisdom and had an interesting perspective on life.   She believes that as long as you are doing what you are doing, “they” will take care of you. That is the way it works, it just does, Susan confirmed.  As long as you remain on the path that is dictated to you in your life, through free will and incarnations, everything you are suppose to be doing, the people you are suppose to meet, the experience that you are suppose to happen will occur.  Humans get in trouble, Susan believes, when we forcefully try to stop others from following their path.   But it is our own free will and ideas of spirituality that designate this path.  Susan’s role is to consult us along this path and help guide us, but rather provide a bridge for us.

That evening, Susan admitted that she didn’t even like ice cream. Her fridge was practically empty after being gone all year. Yet, she went to the store that evening and walked into the store and came out with ice cream that she didn’t even like or plan on eating?!?!?   She claimed that “they” had sent her down to the store because she was supposed to meet me!  This was “their” plan.  I tried to hold back my judgmental thoughts, but inside I though, “Oh geez, this lady is really crazy!  Good thing I’m only staying for one night!”  It’s probably good I only did stay for one night because I just about ate everything in sight that night and the following morning. I had the weirdest cravings that night at Susan’s house.  My body craved salty food first, eating anything in sight laden with salt, then sweets.  I couldn’t refrain from trying to satisfy my cravings, they were intense!  Susan joked with me and told me the more I ate the better because then she wouldn’t eat it! She didn’t touch the ice cream, but guess who did have their fair share?

That night we continued to have more thought provoking conversation about religion, the history and geography of the area, journeys, culture, and life in general.  Her partner was German and she’d ton a lot of traveling around Europe, which is always a good topic of conversation with me.  Susan was certain that my journey was all part of a bigger plan to be a teacher others and share my experiences with them.  For me, my trip is more about personal growth and discovery, but I guess I do have an impact on others.  In her words, I’m like a type of messenger, literally!  There are few religions that really captivate my interest, but I Susan’s spiritual beliefs intrigued me.  I pressed my luck hoping that she did a bit of fortune telling as well.  Not that I believe in that kind of stuff either, but at times I wonder what the crystal ball would say.  If someone told me five years ago I would be traveling from Barcelona to Oregon on bike, I would have thought they were crazy! Unfortunately she told me she didn’t do that kind of stuff!

We woke early in the morning and I was optimistic I could get a blog post written before hitting the road. She made a nutritious breakfast for me while I typed away about my experience in Scottsbluff.  After eating, I could there were some pills close to my computer.  I thought she had accidentally left her vitamins close to me.  Susan told me, when you leave here, you are going to come down with something strong and you will need these.  “You’ll be hit hard, but just take two, and then two more every two hours until you start feeling better.”  I recognized the words on the package as German and they seemed like some sort of homeopathic medicine from Europe.  Susan confirmed this fact.  They were homeopathic pills from Germany.  I sort of just nodded and said, “Ok, ok!” thinking, Lady, I’m not going to take some pills with ingredients I don’t even recognize from a lady I don’t even know. Politely, I put them in my bag anyway. 

The two things I left Susan's house with, a Namaste card and homeopathic pills (I ended up taking all but these)

I stubbornly tried to finish my post, but I could see Susan had her own agenda.  She was setting up some cards…..Wait a minute, I thought she didn’t do fortune telling?!?!?  They were Namaste cards she told me, all laid out face down on a tray.  She told me to pick one, any one of them.  I strategically went for the card that was the most hidden under the others.  I turned it over, wouldn’t you know, it said, “Sense Withdrawal!”  Crazy, here I had looked for the card that was the most hidden and out of the way.  For a few days I had been craving some “me time” a bit of down time all to myself, out of sight from others, cut off from the world, impossible on a bike tour!  She told me to keep this card’s message present in my mind as I continued on my journey. 

Then she asked if she could touch me.  Most, people ask if they can touch my legs, so I was used to it.  But Susan’s hand didn’t go to my legs, she put her index finger just below my collarbone, closed her eyes, and was silent for almost a good minute, longer than I expected.  She opened her eyes and told me, “You are going to be okay on this journey Melissa.  You will arrive home safely, but wow, a lot of interesting things are going to happen.  You are going to meet some really fascinating people and it is going to be a long trip!”  I know, anyone can say that about my trip but, at least it is good to know that a semi truck isn’t going to run me over or some crazy weirdo terrorize me, at least if I stay on the path my spirituality tells me to go down! I was hoping she’d say I’d meet my prince in shining armour, another cyclist on a shiny steel frame pedaling along on his long bike ride, but that didn’t come out of her mouth either!

At this point I thanked her, packed up my things, and she sent me off with some dried sage wrapped in Kleenex, which is a sacred herb for the Lakota people.  I was on my way to the Black Hills and Mt. Rushmore.  Rolling away, literally two doors down, I saw another supermarket.  Interesting?!?!?  She could have walked 30 seconds and been at that supermarket to get ice cream last night, yet Susan had gotten in her car and drove half a mile down the road for ice cream……..I tried not to think too much into that. 

Follow the signs and you'll get there if you don't get hit hard like I did

Three hours into my ride I rolled up to a small touristy town, Custer, right at the crossroads to Mt. Rushmore.  I was starting to get hungry, so I figured it was a good stop.  Still stubborn and intent on doing a blog post, I looked for a restaurant with a strong wifi connection where I could chill for a couple of hours.  This is when it hit me.  All of a sudden I felt really weak and ravenous.  The feeling was strong and had come over me just after I sat down, taking me completely by surprise.  In the matter of minutes I ate the entire bag of groceries I bought to have that night camping.  Then, I had to go to the bathroom, not once, not twice, or three times, it was non-stop!  What was this? Where did this come from?  What was happening?  Boy was I lucky to be in a town, in a restaurant with a bathroom.  I was reluctant to admit that this was what Susan warned me about.  She told me I would come down with something when I left, but I thought this something, if it were to happen, maybe a day or two from now, NOT within a few hours!!!  Of course, being the stubborn person that I am, I didn’t take the pills she had given me, I just kept going to the bathroom until I couldn’t go any more!

Me on my last fumes trying to make it to Mt. Rushmore. I made to the sign, and kept pedaling all the way up, somehow....

I still had 20 miles to ride to Mt. Rushmore, so I needed to get myself on the road.  I felt okay at the beginning, but the longer I rode the more exhausted I felt.  I had eaten an entire bag full of groceries and drank a few liters of sports drinks, surely, I would feel fine?  But I didn’t!  And the truth is, I’ve never felt worse on my entire trip.  I was shaking, jittery, famished, as if I hadn’t eaten for weeks!  In the world of cycling they call it bonking, which to this day, I think I’ve only officially felt twice.  But at this moment, I was beyond bonking.  All I had left for food were the two chocolate bars Susan gave me as I set off.  I ate these, nothing.  I was still weak. I finally gave in and took two of her pills.  By then, I think it was too late.  I didn’t notice any immediate remedy.  I struggled to make it up to Mt. Rushmore.  I was on the verge of a breakdown, I could hardly pedal, somehow I found some way to keep the legs turning. What was happening to me? What on earth had attacked my system?  I arrived at Mt. Rushmore and if it wouldn’t have been for the thousands of tourists, I would have laid down in the parking lot and fallen asleep for the night.  I couldn’t go any further.  I couldn’t think straight, I couldn’t do anything except wonder……Is this what Susan had warned me about?  

Mt. Rushmore, for me the best part of arriving was knowing it was all downhill to Keystone, SD, my refuge for the night

Managed to wheel my bike down as close as you could get to the monument....

Luckily, all I had left to pedal was a few miles straight down to Keystone, where I planned to take refuge for the night.  That night, every two hours I popped a few of her pills while I sought withdrawal from the world.  I was in no state of mind to interact with others.  As for replenishing the nutrients I had lost, luckily I found an “All-You-Can-Eat” burger joint and piled on as many toppings as possible on my Buffalo burger. I went back for seconds and thirds, and then did the same with an “All-You-Can-Eat” ice cream sundae bar.  I think the foreigners working the burger joint were appalled by my appetite.  What a reputation I gave Americans that night with my eating habits.  I have never felt so depleted on this trip, I can’t even begin to explain the sensation. 

Can you find the burger in this basket?

As if the waitress didn't think I was crazy enough with a basket this full, I made her take a picture (notice I'm all nicely bathed from the sponge bath in their bathroom!)

Like I said, you can choose to interpret the situation however you please.  I stayed with a crazy lady for a night, ate something that was rotten or spoiled, got bad food poisoning, and ended up with the worst case of the runs that I’ve had on my trip.   And let me tell you after all the food I ate off street carts in Asia and unwashed and unpeeled fruit, I never had an upset stomach there. Bad luck or do you believe in something else!?!?  You can choose to interpret the scenario as you like. In my opinion, Susan really was some sort of “spiritual bridge”.  Although I don’t think of myself as being a believer, I am a bit superstitious and I DO think she worked her magic on me!  If only she knew….although something tells me she is reading this post with a huge grin on her face saying, “I told you so Melissa……..”

PS. Ironically, I'm sitting trying to type this blog at Safeway, trying to "seek withdrawal", but the man next to me is soooooo curious about my presence it is rather hard! 

Nebraska?!?!?!

Yes, home of the corn huskers......I hit Nebraska "on my way" to Mt. Rushmore

For the last 3 weeks I had a string of hosts, all the way from Moab, Utah to Cheyenne, Wyoming, with the exceptions of one night when I camped with a random family at the Great Sand Dunes National Park.   I’d been spoiled or maybe you could say I was a bit out of practice when it came to free camping when I rolled into Scottsbluff, Nebraska this past Sunday.  I was also out of fuel.  I crossed the border from Cheyenne, Wyoming and had no services on the road for 105 miles to Scottsbluff, Nebraska. Yes,……Nebraska!!!  What am I doing here?  It wasn’t on my original itinerary for the states, but since it was just a slight detour heading north to Mt. Rushmore, I decided to ride through corn country.

This was an understatement, try 105 miles without ANYTHING! Not a good first impression on Nebraska....

There were no restaurants, no grocery stores,….not even a gas station on the road.  Do these people eat? Don’t they drink coffee or need gas? That was my initial impression of the corn huskers.  I saw countless churches, but of course none of them sold food.  I would have killed for a bake sale out front, but the only thing baking on this Sunday was me!  At 100F, the Nebraska sun beat down on me all day.  I couldn’t even think straight when I arrived in Scottsbluff and needed to take care of my immediate needs: food and water.  I rolled up to a Subway.  I could kill two birds with one stone, nourishment and free wireless.  Most people don’t know if but Subway sandwiches has great wireless, better than McDonald’s and the food is a step up.  The first Nebraskan I interacted with was Travis, who worked at Subway.  He hooked me up with a free meal and I chilled out in the air conditioned environment, taking refuge from the heat, entertained with trip planning and blogging.  What should have been an hour break turned into an entire evening.  I knew I needed to find a spot to camp in town, so an hour before they closed, I finally left Subway, not without a luxurious sponge bath in their bathroom.  Another reason I love subway.  Unlike McDonald’s, they have private restrooms that you can lock and use for a good 10 to 15 minutes while bathing!

Travis, at Subway, quickly changed my opinion of the corn huskers!  The great hospitality started here at Subway

I'm a sponge bath queen.  All I have to do is find a single stall restroom

I left, headed to the local park when I saw an ambulance pull in the Taco Bell parking lot next door.  It triggered a thought,…..I used to camp at fire stations. I had forgotten all about this option.  I could ask these paramedics where the fire station in Scottsbluff was and what it was like.  I parked outside Taco Bell and in I went.  The poor paramedics, were trying to enjoy a quick dinner break and here I was pestering them.  Unfortunately they didn’t recommend sleeping there as it was adjoined to the police station and they got a lot of calls throughout the night.  However, they told me I could camp at their service center on the outskirts of town in a more quiet location.  I accepted of course!  

Nothing but good things to say about the guys at Valley Ambulance in Scottsbluff, NE

Jordan and Dan were working the night shift along with Megan.  They were the only ones back at the station. Jordan, the owner’s son, gave me an a tour of the building and the low down on how the paramedics dispatching works.  We talked about my travels, the area, and where I was headed next. Jordan sent out a few messages to friends to see if he could find me a host for the next night.  I could have chatted with the guys all night but they needed as much sleep as possible if they average 2 or 3 calls a night, and I was pretty whipped after my long day.  They wouldn’t have anything of me pitching my tent and instead offered me a bed inside a motor home that wasn’t being used, parked in the garage.  You know me, I can’t say no to a motor home…..

Dan and Jordan look fresher than me, and they attended 3 calls during the night.  I just slept after riding 105 miles.

I probably could have slept for a day inside the camper without any noise or natural light to wake me up, but I did set my alarm so that I could say goodbye and thanks you to Jordan and Dan at the end of their shift.  Jordan already had a host for me by the time I woke up in the small town of Crawford where I was headed that evening, 75 miles away.  I hit the road and headed to Scottsbluff’s national monument.  You can’t pass through Scottsbluff without seeing their pride and joy, and to tell you the truth, the bluff really is a unique landmark.  My mental image of Nebraska was flat farmland filled with cornfield, but after cycling the western portion of the state, I have yet to see a flat stretch that last for longer than 100 yards.  In the western part of the state, there are bluffs galore.  I didn’t know exactly what a bluff is, but now that I have seen them all around western Nebraska, I recognize this rock and land formation as something I started seeing back in Utah.

  

I can empathize with the pioneers pulling their wagons out west

The Oregon girl finds her Oregon Trail

Scottsbluff is an interesting town historically because it is right on the Oregon Trail and as the name of the town indicates, there are bluffs all around.   Pioneers headed out west on The Oregon Trail could see the bluff and Nebraska’s Chimney Rock, another icon on the outskirts of Scottsbluff from hundreds of miles away on their journey.  I imagine when they arrived at the bluffs, they were so taken back and amazed by these unique landforms, it kept them curious and trekking further in west, in hopes of discovering more beautiful sights.  Born and raised in Oregon, although my ancestors didn’t take the Oregon trail, I think of myself somewhat as a pioneer, creating my own trail across the world, leading to Oregon.  At the monument, I got a few pictures of the covered wagons and bluffs, but I wasn’t going to ride to the top because it was getting late and I didn’t have the desire to climb.  However, they had a shuttle bus that would take me to the top, so I opted for this.  At all the other national parks, the shuttle bus is monstrous and transports dozens of tourist. Here, at the monument, the shuttle bus was a mini-van, more like a private chauffeur. 

Nebraska's Chimney Rock.  It gave the National Monument a run for it's money on the state quarter

Bluffs here, there,.....They are everywhere in western Nebraska

Doug Kent was the driver, a pleasant retired volunteer, and his company was delightful.  He was fascinated to hear my story, in fact, I thought we were never going to make it the 1.6 miles to the summit because he was driving so slowly listening to every word I said.Doug was a pleasant older man and tickled to be driving me around.   At one point in the conversation he asked me how I ended up in Spain.  So I told him, I was a Rotary scholar, prefacing that by saying, “ I don’t know if you have heard of the Rotary Club…….”.  Little did I know, he was a Rotarian!  Whenever I meet a Rotarian in person, I enthusiastically tell them how appreciative I am of all their fundraising efforts and express how grateful I am of the opportunity they gave me to go abroad.  At this point Doug was pretty much speechless.  He told me he meets a lot of interesting people driving the shuttle around at the monument, but he told me that he’d never met anyone quite like me!  In fact he said, “ Melissa, I could drive you around all day.  You are the real deal, a fascinating young lady!  I can’t wait to share this with the Rotary Club tomorrow at out lunch.”

Doug Kent, volunteer shuttle driver at The National Monument and a Rotarian

I finally said goodbye to Doug and started pedaling north.  Again, not a flat bit of terrain to be found as I crossed bluff after bluff with a headwind that blew relentlessly at about 30mph.  I hate to disappoint my hosts, but making it to Crawford, 75 miles away was going to be impossible! I was considering my options when road construction stopped me.  The car at the front of the line was switching drivers and the nice woman got out and started to talk to me about my trip.  I told her my predicament and she agreed that my destination for the night was going to be a bit too ambitious with the wind, which was blowing harder than normal for the area.  Luckily, she lived in a town just up the road, and told me they’d love to have me stay with she and her husband.  How lucky am I? I seem to find hosts in all the right places.  I didn’t want, Jill, Jordan’s friend to worry or be waiting for me, so I asked Nancy if she would kindly call her and explain the situation. 

Don't be fooled, nothing is flat here in Nebraska and the wild wild wind.....

It took me a good couple of hours from the road construction to reach Ed and Nancy’s house, but I finally arrived.  She told me Jill was really disappointed I didn’t make it, but understood with the weather conditions.  Jill was planning on taking me to the old historical army base in the area and introducing me to Iris Paris, the daughter of the first woman to cycle across the country in 1948, who happened to live in her town.   What’s are my chances that the day before, I didn’t have one friend or host in Nebraska, and now I had so many I couldn’t stay with them all!  It also was incredible, that one of these hosts lived in a small town in Nebraska where Norma Jean Belloff set of to cycle cross-country in 1948 and became the first woman to do so in history! Iris Paris, still lives in the area and wrote a book about her mom, entitled “Once Upon A Chariot: A True Story About Norma Jean Belloff, Who Established the USA Woman’s Record for Cross Country Bicycling in 1948”.

Ed and Nancy, my hosts who saved me riding towards Crawford, NE

Early bird catches the worm, except in Nebraska, the wind has a mind of it's own

I ended up having a lovely stay with Nancy and Ed.  Nancy was a cyclist herself and the retired PE teacher at the school in town.  After dinner Ed helped me a bit with my bike and in the morning, the two saw me off at 5:30 am, an early start to beat the wind (unfortunately that was wishful thinking).

The reward for an early morning start

Jill, who I wasn’t able to meet is sending me the book which will be awaiting my arrival in Oregon. Something tells me however, that I’ll be back to Scottsbluff, Nebraska and have the opportunity to meet Jill and Iris Paris personally.  You see, at the top of the monument, Doug pointed out the hiking trail up, that he hikes, by saying, “Now Melissa, I know you’ll never be back here, so I want to show you this…….”  Doug, yikes, you NEVER say the world never to me!!!! We all know what that means in my life…… Something tells me I’ll be back to Scottsbluff. I’m not sure exactly why, but this isn’t the last time I will visit this town in western Nebraska.