September 29, 2022
Day Eighteen: Curtis, Nebraska to Cozad, Nebraska
It was chilly this morning. I'd forgotten to wear my wool shirt under the bike jersey today. I delayed my departure for fifteen minutes while it warmed up slightly, and talked to the young woman working at the hotel desk. She was from Colorado, and didn't like living in Nebraska (and before that, she liked living in Cedar Rapids, Iowa even less), but it sounded like she was in the mode of following her long-time boyfriend around the Midwest as he searched for a job he could tolerate. She gave me some inside info on operations at the hotel, my favorite item of which was "Sometimes we take naps in the middle of the day in one of the empty rooms."
I find this kind of thing interesting for some reason.
I left, shivering, and initially rode east onto highway 23, but I didn't like the sun in my eyes - and especially didn't like the sun in the eyes of drivers behind me - so I turned north onto a quiet gravel road.
| Heart | 7 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Eventually I rejoined highway 23 for a few miles. It was now empty after the minimal "rush hour" traffic had subsided.
I arrived in Moorefield, population 32.
There wasn't much going on in Moorefield. I saw a sign for an improbably-located distillery, and pulled into the gravel parking lot.
One of the employees was outside, and I asked him for advice about the next twenty miles of my route, most of which appeared to be gravel. He was one of the rare local people who had a good knowledge of the area roads. His predictions about which short sections were washboard, which were soft and sandy, etc. proved accurate.
He invited me into the distillery for a short tour, which was interesting.
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I followed the road 25+ miles from Moorefield to Brady.
It was unexpectedly great; two or three vehicles the entire 25 miles, and really, really nice scenery. The occasionally soft surface kept things interesting, especially on the descents. I'm always a timid descender, but found myself becoming a little more reckless than is my usual style - Until going down one little hill, I briefly felt the heart-lurching near loss of control as the bike slid sideways. After that I reverted to my usual careful style of riding. I didn't want to break my collarbone out here in the middle of nowhere.
| Heart | 2 | Comment | 1 | Link |
1 year ago
I glanced to my right and saw a crude sign for something called Potters Pasture. It was a mountain bike trail system.
I stood there for a minute or two, briefly considering whether I should ride my bike on one of the trails, just so that I could say that I'd actually done "real" mountain biking, when two riders zoomed down one of the hilly trails.
"Are you on a bike tour!?" They seemed surprised to see an actual cycle tourist "in the wild", and had the Usual Questions.
They asked how old I was, and after I responded "56", one of them said "Wow! You look really fit!"
I will happily accept compliments like this whenever they are offered, even if from other old men.
Upon hearing that I would be heading to Iowa soon, the subject of RAGBRAI arose, of course. They strong encouraged me to do it - "We've done it 20 times! I bet we've seen more Iowa towns than lots of Iowans have!"
I gave my usual noncommittal response ("Yeah, I should do it one of these days"), listened to their (accurate) route advice, and then, after I said goodbye, observed them attempt, and fail, to climb a super-steep hill.
As the two mountain bikers predicted, the gravel ended in a few miles.
Sweet, smooth pavement.
Still no traffic. The scenery was still very much to my liking.
And then I rode past a lake and was abruptly in the middle of farm fields.
I rode over I-80 and passed a junk yard, the only photo of which I took was an old Pepsi sign.
I crossed the Platte River. It looked pretty dry to me. Maybe this is its normal condition, though?
I rode into Brady, population 428, and immediately encountered this unusual pedestrian bridge. I've never seen encountered anything quite like this thing, which rises high above several sets of railroad tracks.
My first stop in Brady was at a grimy, un-air conditioned convenience store, where there was a bad vibe. A surly guy with a gun prominently holstered on his hip was carrying a toddler wearing a diaper. I observed the little girl's arms dangling a couple of inches from the gun. Seemed a little unsafe to me, but: What do I know about guns?
I bought and drank a Diet Pepsi and left.
My next stop in Brady was much better: The Hitchin' Post was a nice, quiet, dark bar and grill where the barmaid and patrons were friendly, the TV was tuned to an old game show featuring Betty White, and the hand-made (not frozen) French fries were excellent.
As I sat at the bar, I finally - at the last possible moment, really - decided my next move on this tour. I had contemplated following a route suggested by John Egan that would take me west into the Sandhills region before circling back east. But I realized now that I didn't want to do that; I've felt increasing pressure the last several days to return to normal life, specifically my work for several customers, and so I decided to head directly (more or less) to Iowa, where my in-laws live, and where Joy could pick me up next week.
Brady was on US-30 (the "Lincoln Highway"), and my research had indicated that it had a smooth, super-wide shoulder, so I rode onto it directly into a brutal headwind.
US-30 was actually pretty nice. A fair amount of traffic, but the shoulder was great.
| Heart | 2 | Comment | 1 | Link |
1 year ago
I stopped for Gatorade in Gothenburg and then made a final push into the wind to Cozad, population 3,977, where I obtained a room at a new-ish interstate motel.
I was tired after 20+ miles of headwind, and struggled figuring out a route to the Iowa border, but Joy quickly created one for me using the Nebraska bicycle map. Now I have a definite plan for the next three or four days.
Today's ride: 62 miles (100 km)
Total: 1,194 miles (1,922 km)
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 9 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 7 |
Although I'll go north to Broken Bow first today which should be alright.
1 year ago
1 year ago
His journal was "Uphill into the Wind" - -
my favorite title of all time.
(* I think he was banned because he didn't like to wear a helmet.)
1 year ago
But as I recall, he was banned because he was a Bush supporter who needled Neil about Neil's liberal views.
(Back when Neil was an annoying liberal instead of an ultra-annoying Trumpist.)
The journal is available here, by the way:
http://tuz.com/cycling/NmHvZ/1571/small/index.html
1 year ago
1 year ago