it didn't quite kill us, so i guess we're... stronger?

YES, we have finished the Great Divide journey!
YES, we have a big game of media catch-up to play!
NO, I am not recovered!

Early on in the adventure, it became clear to me that riding the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route on a unicycle would not be a test of technical riding ability; it is a test of will. It tests one's ability to endure: fatigue, extreme weather, dehydration, pain, etc.

How to summarize the unsummarizeable?
First I'll post (too?) many pictures from our journey south of Grants, NM. Then the really fun stuff starts, in the form of trip statistics and the like.

Due to the continuing monsoon rains that create impassable roads, we had to take the Adventure Cycling-recommended alternate through the El Malpais National Monument, which actually ended up being way cool. The monsoons came a bewildering few weeks late this year, which unfortunately coincided with our travels through the really mucky section of New Mexico.

["Collecting" is the new "gathering." Gathering is so B.C.]

[Near The Narrows in the monument, winding through a corridor lined with rock cliffs on one side and a wild lava bed on the other.]

[Jiminy cricket! (who is not amused)]


[Unrollable.]


[But surprisingly standupable! This otherwise-nearly impossible feat is made possible by the insanely sticky mud.]


[Here's a shout out to the folks at KEEN! The shoes were great and got us through the best and worst of it.]


[Unrollable means just that. Time to drag it sideways.]


["23"]


[Nita and I share a mutual friend! Pie Town, NM was a kind place, full of welcoming people and friendly faces. The pie lady at The Pie-O-Neer Cafe even lent us her car to do a grocery run several miles away! They were busy crankin' out the pies for the annual Pie Fest. I recommend the New Mexico Apple pie a la mode, with green chiles and pine nuts!]

["24"]

Sidenote: I know I've mentioned the insects and animals frequently during the journey, but seriously, sometimes they are out of control. Dung beetles are simply outrageous, expending an astounding amount of energy forming balls of poop in the cow pies, then rolling them away to do what they do best (and I still haven't figured out what that is). The ant hills are tremendous, and if you camp anywhere within a expanse littered with them, they will crawl on everything - and I mean everything - and even into your sleeping bag. And oh, the mice - clever ones, they are, creating all sorts of ruckus while we try to sleep. The dogs mostly stay away when we draw our knives and pick up stones in a ready-to-throw posture.

["25"]

[Nope, the mud hasn't stopped yet!]

["26"]

[Thunder and lightning all around, with absolutely no place to hide. The storm is so close and thick that it is blocking the view of large mountains just beyond. We ended up finding an outcropping of rocks, and I wrapped up in trashbags leeward of a boulder.]

["Roads impassable when wet." ...I'll agree with that.]

[a sloppy "27"]

["28"]

["29..." These poses and camera shots are getting lazy!]

[Muck through O-Bar-O Canyon.]

[Rapidly changing surface quality did a number on me, making my knee bleed even through the thick layer of mud.]

[New Mexico unicycle stand. Once again, this is not supposed to be possible.]

["30"]

[Ugly Santa Rita Mines.]

[Observing the piles of destruction at the Santa Rita Mines outside Silver City.]

["31"]

[Into the Chihuahua Desert, a stark contrast from the lush areas in the state that looked more like West Virginia. Good luck finding shade.]

[Just a cool sign, a cool sky, and 2 cool wheels.]

[Crossing a cattle guard just north of Separ.]

[First sign to our finish at Antelope Wells!]

[With Ron & Carol Elder, who showed us great kindness by saying hello in Silver City, picking us up on the route the next evening, filling our bellies with goodies and minds with good conversation, giving us a place to sleep, and returning us to the route. What a treat!]

[Starting our last full day of the trip!]

["Last full day" still means over 60 miles of pain, but with more motivation.]

[I think I see Mexico....]

[The road looks empty, but it is sprinkled with massive centipedes, tarantulas, and the occasional unicyclist.]

[Giant spiders devour Hachita!! Once again, no illusions. Tarantulas were everywhere.]

["32" - last crossing at 4,520 ft.!]

[Filling up at every chance meant finding windmill-powered pumps that filled stock tanks in the middle of nowhere... and I do mean the middle of nowhere.]

[Hatchet Gap: Windmill, pipe, fresh water, YES.]

[The last sunset.]

["1 Mile" in "Travel Time 5 Min." is twice our pace, and makes me doubt cars actually drive 12 mph for this last stretch to The Promise Land, or shall I say, "La Terra Promesa."]

[MEXICO!!!!]

[The moment we've all been waiting for. La Frontera.]

["United States Border Inspection Station Antelope Wells, N.M."]

[Tim, et al., at the border station is famous for his hospitality shown to bicyclists. He greeted us with ice cream and hot biscuits to supplement the multiple sodas we bought from the coveted Coke machine!]

[An hour after arriving at the least-used border crossing in the U.S., we hopped a shuttle (one of the ~3 vehicles that crosses each day) that takes Mexicans over the border to see family in Phoenix, AZ, then rented a car to drive through the night in shifts to Sacramento, CA where my parents picked us up and escorted us to Davis, my motherland.]

[Glowing grins.]

Now for the fun stuff!

total route mileage = 2,628.7*

riding days = 67

average daily mileage = 39.2

rest days = 9

time frame = july 2-september 16, 2009

# of pedal strokes (based on route miles, tire circumference, and squiggle factor) = 3,670,621

# of days over 50 miles = 17

# of days over 60 miles = 5

# of days over 100 miles = 1

most # of saddle sores at one time = 11

ratio of most # of saddle sores to pairs of socks lost = 2.75:1

size of biggest saddle sore: 3/4-inch diameter

total # of continental divide crossings: 32

most # of continental divide crossings in one day: 4

% riding days I cried = 19%

# animal species I had never seen before = 9

# of Wal-Mart sightings = 4

ratio of bags of chips consumed to threatening hummingbird encounters = 3.33:1

# of flat tires = 6 (each) (Matt got 3 in one mile near the Mexico border!)
# of flat seat tubes = 1 (each)

approximate % of days that the "I'm On a Boat" song was in my head = 95%

*Note: the total route miles listed is less than the initially intended 2,705 due to re-routes around impassable roads. Miles actually ridden are ~6% more (on our 29-inch, single-speed unicycles) due to the natural squiggle during the turn of a unicycle wheel, making the total ridden mileage 2,786.4 miles.

So, with little (if any) optimism from anyone who had actually ridden the route, we beat the odds and further expanded the horizon of possibility. Back in the real world, I am savoring every bit of music I can get in my ears; such a remote trip created quite a deprivation of one of my basic needs, as evidenced by frequent singing during the journey. Songs stuck in my head represented genres including, but not limited to, rap, children's songs, Gracie & Matt originals, and orchestral soundtrack scores to movies such as Dances With Wolves and Mr. Holland's Opus.

Rebounding from an extremely taxing endeavor has facilitated the alignment of my needs and wants, a blessing I wish would come more often. I need a job, and, ironically, I need balance in life; thankfully, those are the two things I want most right now. So... who's hiring? :-)

Finally I am going to post two lists of things I will and will not miss about the journey.

Things I will not miss:

1. mosquitoes

2. flies

3. bees

4. perpetual dehydration

5. wearing filthy clothes

6. wet-wipe baths

7. crotch-crunching washboarded roads

8. popping saddle sores

9. smelly feet

10. shivering in the mornings

11. lack of fresh food consumption

12. being too tired to eat dinner

13. being uncomfortable

14. getting stared at

15. wearing a dirty "diaper" (chamois shorts)

16. running out of toilet paper

17. waking up still exhausted

18. being in pain 12 hours/day

19. loathing, but needing, the sun

20. struggling to maintain adequate hygiene

21. chasing daylight

22. wondering what is floating in my water

23. high-altitude boogers

24. strangers telling me I'm sunburnt when I'm not

25. running out of food

Things I will miss:

1. killing mosquitoes

2. killing flies

3. killing bees

4. watching the sky change over the course of a day

5. uncluttered horizons

6. freshwater springs

7. speaking obnoxious baby-talk to cows, to either confuse or startle them

8. early morning wildlife sightings

9. having everything I could need in my pack

10. sleeping outside

11. rarity of mirrors

12. sporadic reliance on technology

13. taking breaks wherever & whenever I want, even sitting in the middle of the road

14. eating junk food and getting into amazing shape

15. deep appreciation for the simplest of conveniences

16. receiving uninhibited friendliness from strangers

17. seeing new things all day every day

18. night skies so starry, seen only when at least a day's ride from anywhere and anything

19. eating fingerfood all the time

20. groves of aspen trees

21. creating an evident positive impact on others simply by pedaling

22. a special comraderie with other cyclists

Lest I bore you with more, so ends the journey. Thank you so much to all those who helped and supported us in person or remotely - seriously, we are so very thankful! Thanks to Panama Jack, KEEN Footwear, roll: bike shops, and Kris Holm Unicycles: Evolution of Balance, who made it all possible. Good luck to our friends hiking the Continental Divide Trail, finishing up the home stretch!

Remember to donate if you feel so inspired, and as always...

...Rock 'n' roll!

Yours Truly,

Team Blazing-But-Slowly-Healing Saddle Sores

new mucksico: most rain, least water

They say, "If you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything at all," so I won't. I will, however, give you three words to ponder: monsoon mud melee.

That said, this post is to inform readers that in two days we expect to reach the Mexico border, and that the next update will be written from California, with the comforts of a cushioned chair and full belly.

Thoughts and prayers are appreciated as I combat eleven or more saddle sores during these two consecutive 60-plus-mile days to the finish line, where misery ends and real life begins.

Rock 'n' roll!

Yours truly,
Team BLAZING Saddle Sores

the yin and the yang: unicycling is about balance

Fortunately, a pack-lightening campaign in Salida, Colorado left me with only 18.6 pounds to carry, including 3 days of food.
Unfortunately, I am left with no tent, no sleeping pad, and no extra riding shorts.
Fortunately, we successfully dodged the many bowhunters in the national forest.
Unfortunately, a bug bit me and left my leg itchy and swollen: a 6"x4" section of my quad was inflamed, itchy, and hard from liquid pressure.

["17": Marshall Pass (10,842')]

Unfortunately, time spent in towns put us behind schedule to finish by September 16.

Fortunately, a night in a teepee with fellow cycle tourists boosted morale.

["18": Cochetopa Pass (10,067')]

[Matt, riding toward the "dramatic" Coolbroth Canyon opening of columnar basalt.]

[Matt kicks the speed up too many notches on the way into Del Norte, Colorado.]

[Delightful singletrack that paralleled our sandy, washed-out road.]

[Crossing the Rio Grande coming into Del Norte at sunset.]

Fortunately, Del Norte has free camping for cyclists in the city park.

Unfortunately, there is a one-night limit, and we had planned to stay two nights in town.

Fortunately, Heather and Bill Green adopted us, sharing their straw-bale home, excellent food, and the fantastic company of their family - truly a haven in the desert!

Unfortunately, the biggest climb of the trip, Indiana Pass, loomed over our heads.

Fortunately, Mike Tierney of Aspen, CO, joined us for the ride and amped us with good vibes, treats, and Hammer nutrition.

[Matt and Mike cranking up the pass.]

Fortunately, Indiana Pass was the highest point on our entire route: 11,910 feet.

Unfortunately, Indiana Pass does not even cross the Continental Divide.

[Reaching the summit!... thanks, Mike, for snapping this one!]

[A trio of champions. All downhill to Mexico, right?

Matt would like to give a shout-out to fellow Hoosiers - there was no "Indiana Pass" sign at the top for a photo op.]

[Representing a fantastic state at the top of the pass, although maybe we should be holding an Indiana jersey for its namesake.]


[Doris "Paparazzi" and "Cowboy Jim" Garling]

Fortunately, Doris was kind enough to leak a few photos to the press.

Unfortunately, this 48-mile day, with three mountain passes and an EPA SuperFund site, included some of the rougher roads we've faced.

[photo courtesy of Doris Garling.]

Fortunately, the fire was warm and the lounge was comfortable at Skyline Lodge in Platoro, CO.

Unfortunately, we spent more time looking at the maps and counting miles when we should have been riding in the rain.

Fortunately, the overcast skies made for cool riding.

Unfortunately, even brief showers turned the road to unrideable muck.

Fortunately, we learned of the mucky potential of the roads before entering New Mexico.

Unfortunately, most of the route through northern New Mexico is comprised of this soil.

Fortunately, Adventure Cycling Association recommends taking paved alternates when the weather is wet.

Unfortunately, we had daily thunderstorms and were slated for several days of hurricane rains during our time in New Mexico.

Fortunately, the paved alternate went closer to the Continental Divide, and past some very cool sites, including crossing the path of America's longest and highest steam-powered train.

[The Cumbres-Toltec railroad]

Unfortunately, the skies poured rain and large bits of slushy hail.

Fortunately, the weather served as confirmation of our route decision.

[The weather continues in the background.]

Unfortunately, a portion of the route south of Cuba, NM, has been closed because the road became private property.

Fortunately, Adventure Cycling provides an official alternate from Cuba to Grants, NM.

Unfortunately, the alternate is all paved.

Fortunately, we crossed the Continental Divide 4 additional times on the alternate, and rode through incredible mesas and canyons in the region of Chaco Canyon and through the Navajo Nation.

[A diesel fill-up, in honor of my unicycle's name: "Diesel."]

Unfortunately, we had to negotiate more car traffic than we are accustomed to.

Fortunately, we had the opportunity to meet and talk with some very cool and excited Japanese folks, traveling the world after college.

["19"]

[With Harold Redhouse, who stopped to see if we needed help. He is Navajo and taught us a few basic words in his language.]

Unfortunately, unreasonably angry dogs chased us and tried to attack on several occasions.

Fortunately, we found large sticks to carry for self defense. We collected them after Matt had to use a license plate to hit one in the face while riding. The junkyard license plate collection earlier that day paid off, though the dog's face bent the plate.

Unfortunately, we had a hankering to attempt a 100-mile riding day on our single-speed 29ers.

Fortunately, the moon was nearly full, and past experience had prepared us to interpret the road's shades of grey.

Unfortunately, we needed to take caffeine shots and pills to make it through the night.

Fortunately, they worked.

Unfortunately, they worked too well, and wreaked serious havoc on our digestive systems. Fortunately, there were more howls of coyotes than barks of domesticated dogs throughout the night.

["20"]

["21"]

["22"]

[Just to prevent our souls from becoming as sleepy as our eyes....]

Unfortunately, the sun was brilliant in the sky at 7:30am when we finished our 102.1-mile, 22.5-hour stretch of riding.

Fortunately, there were adequate patches of flat dirt on the side of the road on which we crashed to nap for an hour before continuing 20 additional miles into Grants, NM.

Onward and southward...

Rock n roll!

Yours truly,

Team Blazing Saddle Sores

Salida... like "saliva," but 23 times Awesomer.

Can we say "THANK YOU" enough? What more could we need besides full bellies, good rest, fun folks, dinner parties, post office runs, cycling companions, and good-night hugs?? Really, all that and more from the Hendens. Thanks, Arnie and Shelly!!

[Shelly & Arnie escorted us out of Frisco, through Breckenridge, and up toward Boreas Pass.]

[Scotty Bondo, KCMV Radio Morning Show host, interviewed us in the morning, and then rode out of town with us on his 36" unicycle! Thanks, Scotty - it was a real treat!]

["16" - Boreas Pass (11,482'), highest elevation so far]

[Matt, riding down from Boreas Pass through South Park (yes, the region after which the cartoon is named!)... oh yeah, and "park" is Coloradoan for "meadow."]

[Silly shadows.]

[Our reward for climbing up a big watershed divide last night, just 12 miles above Salida, Colorado.]

[Incredible. Seriously. Aspen and spruce lined the way... and photogenic powerlines. Some of the aspen leaves have started to change color - fall is coming, and so is snow!]

[The Sawatch Range, a line of "14ers" (peaks over 14,000 feet), a section known as the "Collegiate Peaks," named for some well-known universities.]

The above picture was our view descending the watershed divide into Salida this morning. We will spend a few hours here in Salida revamping our equipment to minimize weight, and maximize efficiency - trying to finish September 16! It will certainly be a test of willpower and pain tolerance, but so goes unicycle touring.

Until next time!

Yours truly,
Team Blazing Saddle Sores

rocky mountain high

Greetings from Frisco, Colorado! The past week has taken us from a treeless, deserted expanse, into a lush, grand landscape. I am grateful for more frequent water availability, though I still battle perpetual dehydration.

Local passers-by have taken the time to warn us of things like bears and fast drivers (though neither want to hurt us), but the warning that takes the cake began like this: "You two know what you have to look forward to?" Wait, let me guess.... a hill? A steep hill? A hill that is so steep that even though I've pedaled here from Canada, I should probably just stop and go home? On my coast-to-coast journey in 2006, even the people in Kansas cautioned me against the treacherous local incline. Perhaps there is an amount of pride found in one's local terrain, or maybe these people just really like to be discouraging - I haven't yet figured out the intent of such warnings and cautionary statements. I try hard to give them the benefit of the doubt by assuming they're trying to help, but there is nothing helpful about it. Feel free to enlighten me with a reasonable explanation.

In other news, did you know that Specialized perforates their tubes? Yes, I had a hole in my tube, but not from a puncture. In fact, there were mechanically created slits around the circumference of a tube cross-section. Again, if there is a reason for such a cruel joke, feel free to enlighten me with a reasonable explanation.

["Into the great, wide open..."]

[Matt, climbing up Middlewood Hill out of Rawlins]

["15" - Roman crappy numerals X and V. Okay, we were really tired. And the camera was really crooked.

Middlewood Hill = 7,965']

Aspen trees are my favorite. Thankfully, Colorado is full of them, and it makes rolling south that much more appealing - some are even starting to change color! The flutter of the leaves often sounds like the rushing of a nearby creek, both of which are sounds that I have become accustomed to hearing more frequently than car engines - not a bad thing.

[Aspen Alley]

Good fortune has followed us, showing up mostly in the people along the way who have inconvenienced themselves just to spoil us. Among them is Jon Wade, who gave us a complimentary hotel room in Steamboat Springs, just as darkness and hopes for a place to stay descended. Colorado has brought hard-packed (read: easy-to-ride) roads, beautiful vistas, unique wildlife sightings (porcupine and beaver), and even more appetite. Since entering the state, which had no welcome sign (alas, what is a blogger to do?), we have seen less of the "high grade" or "well maintained roads," which make us cringe knowing that it means probable washboard, gravel, and motorized traffic. However, we have enjoyed more hard-packed dirt, often coming in the form of "lower grade" or "primitive" roads: worse for cars, but great for unicycles!

I have been asked why I cry so frequently on this trip; and, because the high percentage of riding days that bring me to tears also happens to amuse me, I will address the issue. Really, what could be so bad? Well, below is a list of things that make me cry - hopefully this illuminates the reality of day-to-day life on the Divide By One journey.

(1) bad dreams

(2) low blood sugar level

(3) pain

(4) exhaustion

(5) other frustrations with particular situations

(6) laughter

Furthermore, the combination of any items #1-5 can create additional distress, whereas a high blood sugar level combined with item #6 can bring an exorbitant amount of tears as well. Not to make it sound confusing or anything.

Regarding #1: the other morning, I slept restlessly all night, in and out of a dream that I had been diagnosed with an acute, terminal cancer, and that I had only a few days to live.

Regarding #2: I am much better at eating enough on this trip than on my coast-to-coast trip, so it is rarely an issue.

Regarding #3: from the moment I get on the seat in the morning, I am in pain, often wincing with the excruciating feeling caused by my many, irritated saddle sores. The pain remains to some degree until we are finished riding for the day, 8-12 hours later (6 mph is a painful pace!).

Regarding #4: I have been sleep-deprived for nearly 2 months. Without sufficient sleep, life as we know it might end, and slight difficulties become depressing disasters. Each morning I awake ready to go to sleep all over again. It is an increasingly exhausting cycle, and I hope I find a way to cope for the rest of the journey.

Regarding #6: laugh attacks happen. Sometimes I have to get off my unicycle because I can't stay balanced while laughing so hard.

[Matt claims that tooth brushing is more fun at 6 mph.]

In 2006, I met Arnie and Shelly Henden of Frisco, Colorado, when I rode through on a unicycle with my dad on a bike. Arnie offered their hospitality and we have kept in touch since. They are an amazing couple, active in the outdoors and in their community. Arnie braved a very wet storm on his bicycle to find us on Highway 9 and provided a personal escort to their home in Frisco, where we are recovering for the day. The below picture shows Arnie's mad skills on a unicycle in front of Dillon Reservoir, at the location where I left my camera behind on my coast-to-coast trip (later to be recovered by their efforts). This time around, I decided to take my camera with me instead of leaving it on a bench. What a novel concept.

[Arnie's a natural.]

After a shower and some well needed down-time, the party commenced, with a bunch of their friends coming over to celebrate - because life's a party (right, Fred?). :-) The crew was a blast, and it was great to re-meet a handful of folks that I had met in 2006.

[Party animals.]

So freakin' excited to be here! The last couple of weeks have been relentless and have really worn me down. Receiving the Hendens' kindness is more than we could ever ask for. I am so sick of being in the sun (my mood drops significantly every morning when it comes up), as its presence has equated itself with discomfort. Saddle sores hound my every pedal stroke, exacerbated during each mount and dismount. Sleep deprivation makes everything that much worse. But lest my complaints continue, now it's time for some catch-up! Off to do errands, meet up with friends in the area, and who knows - maybe another dinner party tonight? Why not? :-)

Rock n roll!

Yours truly,

Team Blazing Saddle Sores

"cream of broccoli soup draws gnats"

You'll never guess the meaning of the blog post title, so all I ask is that you type the title phrase into the search box at yahoo.com.

Moving on:

current location: Rawlins, Wyoming

# of miles ridden, total: 1,379 (over half-way!!)

average miles per day, not including "zero"/rest days: 33.6

# of days of riding: 41

# of "zero" days: 6

# of Continental Divide crossings: 14

# of horned toad sightings: 3

# of Wal-Mart sightings: 0

% of riding days that I've cried: 24%

most # of saddle sores at one time: 6 (currently I have "only" 5)

favorite trail foods lately: Cheetos, Oreos, Kit-Kats, and water.
estimated date of completion: 9/17/09

After getting creative with how to rig multiple water bottles onto one slender and simple unicycle frame (oh, how we love long water carries), we ventured into the seemingly neverending desert landscape beyond Pinedale, Wyoming. Banking on a rumor that we were out of grizzly country, and because I always seek to eliminate as much weight as possible from my pack, it was time to do what I had wanted to do since the beginning: empty the can of bear spray. Not to make anyone jealous (because of course you all want to know what it is like), but seriously, it was fantastic. I shot it into Wyoming's vast emptiness, downwind, and with eye and face protection, sticking to my life motto: "Safety First."

[Wyoming state bear spray testing grounds.]

[Heavy traffic.]

[Continental Divide crossing #"10" of the journey.]

Wyoming has been a lot of emptiness since passing its northwestern National Parks. But I am dearly fond of desert skies, which are ever changing with the constant wind, so I don't mind a bit.

[Where does this road go? I dunno - Mexico?]

["11"]

Just after the above picture and below video were taken, a storm caught up to us on the Divide, whipping us with gusts of sand and blistering wind. Matt's map blew away, sand found its way into the video camera, and it was difficult to even walk. Although mostly a tailwind, it was strong enough that I could barely ride; and the times that it decided to add a crosswind component, I was leaned over as far as my torso could bend, backpack on, atop my wheel, just to stay balanced. Completely exposed to the desert elements, any exposed skin was brutally sandblasted.

["12"ish.]

Cool sights along the way also included two- or three-track ruts through the sagebrush from the various historical trails winding through the expanse: Oregon Trail, California Trail, Mormon Pioneer Trail, and the Pony Express. Dang!

[This is where the '49ers lost oxen fording the river, only to get run over by the Pony Express riders towing handcarts loaded with 19 children.]

["Riders on the Storm"... my favorite part of this sky is the series of cloud layers on the right.]

[Nobody likes a closed candy store.]

In Atlantic City, Wyoming (where still stands the now-closed former whorehouse of Calamity Jane), we stayed the night with a fellow unicyclist who had met us on the road a day before (many thanks, Craig!!). The next morning, we awoke to solid gray skies and windy rain. After procrastinating our ride for the day, we ventured out into the elements, only to be beaten down at the top of a hill with stinging, 35-degree rain, slippery roads, and sinking mud. My poor reaction to this otherwise-comical situation proved one devastating fact: I was desperately sleep-deprived. Many tears and verbalized frustrations later, we made the only sane decision to get hot chocolate and hole-up in Atlantic City for the night, hoping for better weather tomorrow. Verdict? Most excellent. After a 2.5-hour late-afternoon nap, I slept for a solid 9 hours that night. I guess 6 weeks of sleep deprivation can catch up with me, even at my zippy 6-mph pace.

[This is how they drink it in Belgium.]

We always feel bad for the bikers behind us, who hear statements like, "You think that's hard, there are a guy and a gal doing it on unicycles!" We hear from bikers along the way that they have heard about us for weeks, even months. How annoying that must be: we apologize... kinda (please, bikers, take comfort knowing you are in less pain). However, the joy of being unique on this route is that unicycle graffiti means special signs of love and encouragement - we know it was done just for us. Two signs at this junction boosted our spirits this particular day... I think I know who did it, but to tell would ruin all the fun.

[My affinity for donuts preceeds me, apparently. Yes, we found this written on the sign.]

[Overall, the road conditions from Pinedale to Rawlins were some of the best of the trip. More, please!]

[Just another day in the office.]

["13," on the divide between the east slope and the Great Divide Basin.]

[We are treated to such sunsets nearly every night. No joke.

However, desert + sun does not always equal warm. Several mornings we have awoken to ice lining our tents and sleeping bags; the temperature had dipped to well below freezing.]

[We saw more wild horses than people this particular day, not to mention the countless herds of pronghorns. A lively group of horses were "horsing around" chasing herds of cows. Go figure. We also pet a few horned toads scampering across the road, but I don't think they were as fond of us. The horses, unlike the pronghorns and horned toads, created gigantic "studpiles" sporadically along the road, marking their territory. When I say "gigantic," I mean dimensions of 2 ft. x 2 ft. x 1 ft stacks of poop. Who needs Brinks Home Security when you could just make piles of poop around your yard?]

[Screw this, we're going to Mexico today!!]

[This is what half-way feels like.
We have to do what we just did, all over again. Does anyone else find it ironic that the half-way point on this mountain bike route is paved?]

[Yet, I struggle to walk and chew gum. Yeah, that's sudoku.]

[Watching where I'm going.]

[Matt and his piece of flare.]

["14"]

Southward, ho!

Yours truly,

Team Blazing Saddle Sores

come on and take a free ride

Greetings from Pinedale, Wyoming! After a trip to Jackson, we hitchhiked back to the route and continued on down the road refreshed as can be, thanks to the amazing hospitality of the Resor clan.

[with Story and Felicia Resor when they dropped us off in town.]

[near Moran Junction, with the beautiful Tetons in the background.

p.s. thanks Daddy, Mommy, and Sarah for the gift at the post office!]

Once we got up near Togwotee Pass, we discovered the infamous construction zone that everyone in the area seems to bemoan and avoid. We were not allowed to ride through a ten-miles stretch of the area, so we had to ride in the Pilot Car that escorted vehicles through the area (see video at bottom of post). We also were not able to ride the dirt road up to Brooks Lake, which was unfortunate and meant that we had to ride more miles on pavement; the road was blocked off due to TNT near the junction. I guess you could say that we had an easy climb up and over Togwotee Pass, our 8th continental divide crossing of the journey. One disclaimer I should mention before the critics begin a rant: Matt and I have each ridden this pass in 2006 when we both took cross-country cycling trips (him on a bike and I on a unicycle).

["8" from the back of a truck over Togwotee Pass (9,658')

[loving life at 30 mph!]



[back in the saddle, we descend with the view of a glimmering sunset on the Pinnacle Buttes]

No doubt, the landscapes and challenges on this journey have been tremendous. However, rivaling their greatness are the people we have met. I may sound like a broken record, but each expression of gratitude is sincere and immense.

[The Neutra family stopped to chat and inquire about our journey. Pictures and trying to sit on the unicycle were a must. Matt, Colleen, Marian, Eliot and Gabrielle, it was great to meet you!]

"Trail Angels" Dave and Jo-An Martin fed us refreshments and refilled our water at their cyclists-only hostel, even though we arrived unannounced. I think the reality of the "unicycle" part of our journey didn't really sink into their perception of our adventure until we mounted up and rode down their driveway up toward Union Pass.

[Jo-An, Dave & Wrigley (dog) Martin]

[big climb up Union Pass brought stunning views of the Wind River valley]

["9" at Union Pass (9,210')]

... and ... happy birthday to me! I just turned 26 yesterday and it proved to be an excellent day, indeed. Just after I awoke, I heard footsteps coming over to my tent and began to see a yellow glow on the other side of the tent wall. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." Matt began to sing. He brought a blueberry muffin with candles that spelled out "26" and a card addressed "To Grace, Destroyer of Miles." To top it off, he included a cinnamon roll in the birthday breakfast. Talk about being spoiled! It helped broaden my smile that had become more a look of surprise when I discovered ice lining the inside of my tent and part of my sleeping bag. Yep, the cold has come!!

[What more could a girl want?

Oh yeah, and saw two bull moose hanging out in some Aspens early that morning!]

On our continued descent from Mosquito Lake (aptly named) to the Green River, we each made a "Three Ocean Cocktail," which consisted of water from three streams that are the headwaters leading to the Atlantic Ocean, Pacific Ocean, and the Gulf of California. Just add Tang, and it was a treat.

[birthday cocktail... and an advertisement for roll: bike shops, heehee]

[mudflap says: "Big, Beautiful Wyoming" - oh, the things we find on the side of the road]

We continued rocking our descent into Pinedale, stopping for a wonderful cafe breakfast at "The Place" along the way. Just outside of town, a lady named Kathy Raper stopped us who had seen us earlier that morning on the road. We got to talking and found out that her daughter is a Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma survivor, and she helps with an organization called "Kicking Cancer," which aids families with costs of cancer treatment that health insurance doesn't cover. Just when we were intolerably parched, she offered us water and (gasp) ice, and made plans to take us to dinner. Not only did she treat us to an amazing Mexican food dinner, but she brought us angel food cake, berries, and whipped cream to enjoy as a dessert on my birthday. Dang!! Her generosity extended much further than just the tangible gifts, and we are so thankful for her encouragement, enthusiasm, and all the work she is doing in the community to help others battling cancer. Thanks again, Kathy!!

[with Kathy at Fremont Lake, one of the deepest lakes in North America, just on the north end of Pinedale.]

And, of course, the video of glee getting to ride in the back of a truck over Togwotee Pass:

Well, that's life from the road. We are preparing to take on the worst (best?) of the Great Basin and are trying to get creative in ways to carry more water on our unicycles, not on our backs.

Rock n roll!

Yours truly,

Team Blazing Saddle Sores