September 30, 2022
Day Nineteen: Cozad, Nebraska to Arcadia, Nebraska
I was up early as usual, did some work, then walked downstairs to find that the hotel had an above average, free, hot breakfast, which I took full advantage of.
It was not yet 8:00 when I rode out of the parking lot. I exercised admirable self-restraint, and passed the Casey's next door without stopping, even though lately I've grown very fond of their morning pastry selection, especially the apple fritter. That fritter is top notch.
It was easy riding out of the interstate zone, and I was soon on quiet streets. I didn't feel like stopping to take many photos in Cozad, although I did think this was worthy of pausing for a second:
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I rode straight north onto a paved country road. It was a beautiful morning, one of the best of the trip. I had a tailwind. There was no traffic. Perfect conditions.
After miles of pleasant pasture and fields, it became more rugged.
Around this time, I noticed that the bike felt different - "bouncy."
I stopped and squeezed the rear tire. No! It had lost a noticeable amount of air, although it was still rideable. This had never happened in the thousands of miles I'd ridden on this make and model of tire, with sealant-filled tubes.
This darkened my otherwise great mood a little bit, of course, but as I stopped and checked the tire every mile or so, it appeared to not be losing anymore air. I decided to wait until I arrived in Callaway, the first town after Cozad, and give it more attention then.
Callaway, population 539, had a full range of services, including a small supermarket and a hardware store. It was an attractive town.
I stopped first at a gas station for French fries and a Diet Coke. I needed to fortify myself before the inspection of the tire, which by now was causing me significant anxiety. Perhaps my incessant bragging over the years about the infallibility of this tire/tube setup had been ill advised.
I also felt a sharp pang of loneliness, for the first time on this tour, really.
I parked in front of the town's hardware store, and briefly checked out their very limited supply of bicycle equipment; they did have a cheap floor pump which I could purchase if my little hand-held pump proved inadequate.
I called Joy to get her opinion. She was slightly annoyed by such a basic question, and advised me to just put some air in it, already.
I did that easily enough. I don't know why, as a very experienced cyclist, I'd been so concerned about this minor operation.
I walked into the small supermarket. I wanted to replenish my dwindling supply of sunblock. I was surprised that all except for the expensive Nutragena brand had SPF levels of only 15 or 30. How could levels that low even be effective?
The lady who checked me out glanced at my purchase and said "Every time I put on sunblock, I get a sunburn anyway."
I laughed and advised her to ditch the SPF 15 stuff, and go for 70, like I do.
The road to the next town, Broken Bow, was a little busier, but then almost any road would have had more traffic than my route from Cozad to Callaway.
Scenery continued to be nice.
Broken Bow was a big town by my Nebraska standards - population 3,559.
I rode on the shoulder of the busy main drag for a while, then stopped at a Dairy Queen for a milkshake, French fries, and ice water.
I rode away from the DQ, and after a few thousand feet glanced down at the old, low-tech bike computer I've had for years. It was gone. I rode back to the Dairy Queen and looked for ten minutes, but couldn't find it. It must have bounced off somewhere.
Ironically, the last few days I had tried to control my tendency to compulsively check my mileage and speed on the old computer every few seconds. I keep my cell phone with its Strava cycling app in the handlebar bag at all times, so it won't be as convenient to check my mileage now.
My route the rest of the day was mostly on state highway 70, which the Nebraska bicycling map indicated would be relatively low traffic. I found it unpleasantly busy at times, though. Unfortunately I had arrived at the beginning of harvest season. 90% of the traffic was large trucks carrying the corn and beans.
I arrived in Arcadia, population 311. I liked the look of the town. There was a pretty town park along the Middle Loup River. There were no indoor lodging options for many miles, so it would be camping in the park tonight.
I walked into the small grocery store and asked the friendly woman working there if it would be alright if I camped in the park. She said she was sure it was OK, but at my request called a man who worked for the town to confirm.
There we was no shower at the park, but at least there was a water spigot, and a bathroom with a sink and flush toilet.
I cleaned up as best as I could, set up near a picnic table and pavilion, then walked back to town and had dinner at the friendly bar and grill (more women than men, everyone watching women's volleyball on the television, no one smoking). I struck up a conversation with the barmaid there, who wanted to know what I was doing traveling by bike. She asked the Usual Questions, which I answered cheerfully. Her responses to my answers were mostly "Oh, Lord!"
I walked back to the park and waited for it to get dark enough to go to bed, and then went to bed.
Today's ride: 85 miles (137 km)
Total: 1,279 miles (2,058 km)
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I was assuming that even the smallest town must have water, even if I had to knock on someone's door to plead for it.
2 years ago
And with amenities, too ... plus a nearby cafe.
I tossed out my cyclocomputer halfway thru my 1988 x-USA trip.
Somewhere in western South Dakota.
I was just looking at it too much.
"If I keep up an 11 mph pace I'll get to Pierre by 4:25."
I prefer, "I'll get to Pierre when I get to Pierre."
YMMV.
Glad you had such a lovely day.
2 years ago
Also, I can go a lot longer than 3 or 4 hours before using up all my water.
That's probably a bad habit of mine, though, and I'm likely in a constant state of at least mild dehydration.
A much bigger issue for me has always been running out of food, and bonking.
2 years ago