Climbing Through Green Washington To Meet Friends In Vancouver

Into the Washington Wild

Heading over the dammed Pen d'Oreille river and into Newport, Washington late in the afternoon, I was told there would be plenty of places to stay in and around Cusick & Usk just 15 miles up the WA20 - the road that would take me almost all the way to the Pacific.

Countdown to the Coast

Arriving on the outskirts of Cusick I used a tactic that had been a favourite for some time - hit the first bar, grab a cold beer and enquire as to local accommodation. Whilst this always worked before - this time I was facedwith blank stares! Apparently there were no hotels or campgrounds for at least 30 miles, but one of the guys took it upon himself to find me something. Sat next to his girlfriend, chewing tobacco and periodically spitting into a cup, he phoned around and found that I could still camp at the county fairground 3 miles down the road - again I'd missed the county fair by mere hours... Arriving at the campground I found the fair rolling out but two Danish guys camped up after a similar story to me. They were on a bike trio too, only theirs was motorised and would take them from Alaska to Tierra Del Fuego! No sooner had I pitched the tent than my mind turned to food - apparently the only place to get dinner was the bar I just left - so I got to ride Pillion with the Danish guys back to the bar where they failed to recognise me in civilian clothes.

North Washington is to the west of the high Rocky mountains and everything was now below 6,000 feet, however I was faced with a series of lower mountain ranges - each with a low lying river in between. This meant 3 days of climbing 2 mountain passes a day with long descents on the other side. Day one was possibly the toughest, starting with a 20 mile cruise along the river bank through deep forests and glass-like still water. The first climb to Tiger Pass was only about 5 miles but it was steep and climbed about 2,000 ft before rolling through the forest and sown into Colville. Extra motivation was provided by the Danish motorcyclists when they finally caught me up after a late start and cheered me on for 5 minutes or so. Before lunch I felt good, but waiting in line for a massive Safeway Sandwich I almost fainted and everything went dizzy for a time, the the heat and surprising humidity had got to me - given I was only halfway through the day I took about an hour out to eat and drink my way though a mountain of calories. I also met Noah, another coast-to-coaster riding with his girlfriend. However they seemed to have a much better way of doing it then me - they'd crossed the continental divide after climbing a total of 200ft from the train station and now they were getting a lift off parents through to the Cascades National Park - I assume they made it over the final mountains as I never saw them again.

Big Sky Country on the road to Sherman Pass

Heading off again after taking on 3+ litres of fluid I rolled down over the Columbia river and, after 80 miles in the saddle faced the 22 mile, 4,000 ft climb to Sherman's Pass. To make matters worse the road had just been resurfaced with heavy gravel - the going was excruciatingly slow with the only bonus being that the heat had gone out of the day in the late afternoon. In total the climb took 3h10min of grinding away, searching for anything the slightest bit smoother than the gravel. Reaching the top was awesome - dusk was closing in and if you'd have driven by you'd have seen a deranged, bearded Englishman wildly pumping his fist and shouting to himself as he cycled up the last few metres... The wind at the top almost blew you off your feet and significantly slowed the descent, but I was still flying round hairpins (downhill had been properly resurfaced and was smooth) and made the 14 miles down in a mere 40 mins, arriving in Republic at dusk. After 119 miles and over 9hrs in the saddle, I was pretty beat up and had developed heat rash around my midriff - but the hardest day since the Appalations was behind me and surely it would be easier from here.

22 miles of gravel to the top of Sherman Pass

If only the sign at the top of Sherman Pass was right, in fact I had 2 more days of mountain climbing to go

Only 3 mountain passes to go

2 more to go...

The next day I took 2 hours out in the morning to wash my clothes - an attempt to deal with the heat rash - this of course then turned a relatively easy 105 mile day into another race to get over 2 big mountain passes. Over Wauconda Pass - an old Gold Rush town, now turned to cattle grazing - the switch backs down into Tonasket were a lot of fun, but turning south after a 2nd breakfast I was hit by a horrible dry headwind - a puncture at the top of a long false flat reveals that my tyre is about to fall apart so I'm forced to change it on the exposed shoulder with trucks racing past. My bike it seams it showing the same wear & tear as my body - the bottom bracket is crunching with every pedal stroke, and with 3 big mountain passes to go I had to stop and a bike shop to check it out - fortunately a quick tightening of it seems to solve the problem and I'm off again to tackle the lovely named Loop Loop pass - 18 miles and 3,300ft of climbing. I also finally retired my mitts that had served me over 2,500 miles since Milwaukee - they were completely falling apart! 2h40 minutes later I was racing downhill past wild deer into the Methow valley.

The beautiful Methow Valley

Again at Twisp I had nowhere orgainised to stay and after a failed 3 mile search for the promised camp ground I was getting more than a little frustrated - I flagged down a local out walking his dog, who in turn flagged down the Police Chief - his suggested the fishing ponds on the edge of town and "if anybody asks, they can come and speak to me about it"

Accommodation sorted I head to the pub for dinner - more steak, I love my diet right now. Get chatting to Mike, a teacher from Seattle, he loves driving through the area and is staying in a cabin down the road.. Instead of the fishing ponds, he suggests I camp on the lawn behind his rented cabin - as I'll be up and out before the owners it's not like anybody will notice. The trade for the camping site was to stay up to 2am drinking beer, wine and chatting away - something that seemed a great idea at the time, recovery will have to wait for Vancouver! The bonus was for the 1st time on the trip, my camping gear was supplemented by a pillow, meaning deep sleep through to 7:00am despite the sprinkler soaking my tent in the early morning.


Day 3 was the time to hit the Northern Cascades and my final 2 mountain passes! It also meant 70+ miles without any services so my bike was loaded up heavy with water and snacks to get me over the top. Of all the roads I rode in America - Hwy 20 through the Cascades was by far the most beautiful, maybe it was just the excitement I was feeling but it was truly stunning. 5 miles of gravelly road works slowed me down but also bunched the traffic up behind a pilot car giving me 10 minute chucks of perfect peace as I climbed into the national park with steep, fir forested, snowy peaks enclosing the road on both sides. At about 4,000ft I hit snow on the side of the road, probably dumped there through the winter as this is the highest pass in Washington that is kept open all year round.

Snow by the road just below Washington Pass

The last Switchback on the way up to Washington Pass

The last pass

Only 1 more to go...

On upwards to Washington Pass the road takes a huge sweeping switchback up the mountain giving you tremendous views back down the road and into the national park. At the top of Washington Pass, I find a large group of cycle tourers taking a break and heading the other way. Now there's only one pass to go - a fast 900ft drop and 400ft climb gets me to Rainy Pass, which could be renamed "Mosquito" Pass as my lunchtime sandwich is interrupted by tens of the buggers biting the hell out of my legs. arms, neck, anything exposed... A couple headed to a wedding in Spokane by bike help me take a few photos but the mosquitos mean I don't take too long savouring the achievement and instead head down the hill.

I love downhills - I seem to be made for them and the bike handles like a dream even fully loaded. The Pacific side of the mountains is so Green - it must rain here a lot! Little of the rain is wasted as the valley is filled with a succession of scenic dams surrounded by snow capped peaked and deep blue sky. I spot 3 "Jersey Riders" (riders with no luggage entirely clad in lycra) almost passed out on the side of the road; stopping to say hello I find that they are part of a group of 32 riders riding Coast-too-Coast for Affordable housing. With 32 riders camping for the night there must be space for a little one to sneak in on the side - there's never any shame in blagging a free camping spot. Riding on down the road we agree to meet up to camp down the road at Rockport, they're bringing up the rear today ensuring nobody gets left behind. Now all the mountain passes have been climbed I'm flying and quickly catch a bunch of riders from their group - for the final 5 miles into Rockport 2 of the stronger guys fire off up the road at 25+ miles an hours - a couple  of miles later they're surprised to see me, fully laden, sitting 3rd wheel in a chaingang of 4, seems a little adrenaline can do a lot after 7 weeks of training. It was great exchanging stories and hearing all the different motivations for their ride, from "I always wanted to" - to the girl from Iowa riding for her late Grandfather who'd previously ridden coast-to-coast. It was also clear that in a group of 30, sharing 6 to a tent, things had not always gone smoothly - crashes, arguments and riding bans for being drunk the night before - all made me sure I'd made the right choice to go my own way. They'd clearly made friends for life though and I was envious of the camaraderie.
You can find out more about Bike & Build here: http://www.bikeandbuild.org/cms/

Descending the North Cascades

Beautiful dammed valleys descending to the Pacific

At long last the Pacific is in sight!

After a long 3 days, Vancouver was now in sight and after 30 miles I decided to make a dash for it in 8 rather than 9 days from Missoula. A quick call to my friend Xavier and it was arranged for Xav, Ed and Spencer to meet me at the USA/Canada border for the ride into Vancouver. I rode out from rockport on my own - the Bike2Build team may have got up at 5am but by 7:15 they were still pottering around so I took off in search of breakfast. The green landscape was all shrouded in mist - a taster of what was to come on the west coast, but the green landscape was stunning. Coming over Bow Hill I get my first sight of the Pacific and am soon riding Parallel to it amongst fields of cattle. Finally I hit bridge over an inlet and allow myself to stop and think how I've reached the pacific - cue more fist pumping, shouting and cheesy grins - must have seemed strange to anybody just passing by on a normal day. At Bellingham I finally manage to get my feet wet - jumping into the Pacific from the waterside park, nobody else is in the water, maybe because it's seriously cold! Stopping at the Chukanut brewery for lunch, the beautiful barmaid buys me a beer to mark my coast-to-coast ride, and strange enough after 4,100 miles I find that the brewer has a daughter living in Herne Hill, less than a mile from my house in London!

The ride along the cliffs into Bellingham on the Pacific Coast

My arrival at Canadian Customs, fully laden on the bike draws curious looks from the border patrol which means I get to proudly explain how I last entered Canada by Niagara Falls and have cycled all the way from there!

Using the footpath, I'm able to keep Ed behind me as  we climb over the bridge into Vancouver

Over the bridge into Vancouver

After 4,100 miles on the road the beard got BIG, apparently I was beginning to
 look a lot like the mythical mountain man Paul Gunyon

It's great to see old friends at the border, including Ed who'd flown the whole way out from London to see us all. I get to unload my panniers at the border but foolishly opt to leave a couple of bags on the bike - as the 3 guys race off on their skinny bikes, fresh from a day in the office rather than 90 miles on the the road it becomes clear I made a mistake. We appear to get lost a couple of times, but I'm told this is normal - Bob, our guide, always finds his way in the end... Riding over the bridge into downtown Vancouver is incredible with the sun falling in the late afternoon sky and I get a little snap happy with the camera. We celebrate with photos in front of Vancouver bay then Pizza & Beers - any bigger celebrations will have to wait as I'm knackered!

I made it

Me & Xav in Vancouver

Me & Ed in Vancouver

Coast-to-Coast Statistics:
- 4,100 miles
- 6 punctures
- 2 chains
- 3 rear tyres
- 50+ beefburgers
... more to follow



Thanks to all those who have already sponsored me and contributed to the North Staffs Adventure Playground - I'm hoping to hit 1000 pounds so please donate using the following link:
http://www.justgiving.com/BigRedOnABike

Racing the Scenic Route Through Montana

Jim & Mel seeing me and my bike off from Missoula

My day off in Missoula was just what I needed. A really bike friendly city in the middle of Montana - the state with the most aggressive drivers so far, I lost count of the number of times i was overtaken too close with cars coming the other way or on blind bends and even found cars overtaking into me! Jim & Mel treated me like family and it was great to share some time with them.


I'd been racing since RAGBRAI to make sure I'd be in Vancouver for the 31st August, but now, my kind friend Ed decided to fly out to Vancouver on the 25th, 6 days early. The direct route would be about 680 miles, but the scenic one would be 860, in 9 days to arrive on the 26th I'd get to find out if I really could do 100 miles a day. So again after promising myself that i wouldn't race, off I was racing to Vancouver...

Montana is absolutely full of lakes and my scenic route took me past loads of them. Each had a few jetties and stunning houses baked in sunlight, it's hard to imagine these same lakes being frozen over and covered in snow in winter.

Day 1 out of Missoula I followed old Indian trails up clearwater creek to Swan Lake - Home of the best breakfast sandwich in Montana - accompanied by the friendly chatter of Joe and Jocelyn at the Trading Post that doubled as a campground with showers (a real luxury). Although this is bear country, I was told not to worry as they're all up in the mountains picking ripe berries, whether this was true or just a ruse to get me to buy huckleberries rather than pick my own, but it worked and they were worth it.

The ride up to swan lake

The next day would take me back north and west, finishing very close to Canada, in fact I could have swum there up the lake. The roads are narrow with little or no shoulder and aggressive Montana drivers make it difficult to focus on anything other than the road - they seem fine with cyclists on the road so long as the cyclist doesn't get in their way or make them slow down - in this way vehicles will overtake face on into you, overtake round blind bends and then complain that there's no room when a car's coming the other way.

Whitefish lake even had a beach, and the water was not too cold - better than Hampstead Heath Lido

A quick dip in Whitefish lake before heading up to Eureka and lucking out with a $5 camp spot in the town park paid for at the town hall / fire / police / ambulance station

Home Sweet Home in Eureka Riverside Park

Riding 45 miles alongside Kaicanusa lake

Lake country has been created by a number of dams - the biggest created Lake Koocanusa over 100 miles long spanning the USA and Canada. I got to wind my way alongside it for 45 miles of up and downs clinging to the valley's side before dropping down into Libby for lunch. The lake was only created 40 years ago and flooded several old towns and an old railway that had been used to transport gold and other minerals in the gold rush era when all these towns had been bustling outposts, now they remain solely as the names of coves or creeks along the lake.

Montana Part 1 - Big Mountain Passes and Ghost Towns

Back over the continental divide into Montana,
14 miles later!

1st time over the continental divide into Idaho

High lake in Idaho in the slanting morning light

Southern Montana & Idah are split by the Continental divide, where if you were to take a pee, it would head of on one side to the Atlantic and the other to the Pacific. After a night in Montana I quickly found myself climbing again, over a pass and into Idaho for all of about 15 miles - probably less than an hour and then another pass back over the continental divide, my first attack on the pacific was not exactly successful. My brief stay in Idah was eventful though, I saw a Jackal (or Cayote) run in front of me, almost collided with a truck and took a pee. Pretty much the only other activity available to me would have been swimming or fishing in a lake.


Back over the continental divide it felt like I was going backwards but a long downhill soon cheered me up, my North America Atlas suggested a smooth downhill all day, but failed to mention another 6,900 ft pass intothe old wild west, an old gold mining valley complete with ghost towns, wrecked river beds from dredging and stories of vigilantes, heros and villains - An early sheriff and his gang had been hijacking anybody with a horde of gold and murdering them, the miners eventually got sick of this and ganged together as vigilantes to hang the sheriff, his cronies and maybe a few others as well. Maybe the attitude to law and order out here is best illustrated by 2 young boys under 10 who, facinated by my bike, asked their Mum "but where does he keep his gun?" Downhill into Virginia City the road dropped 8% for about 6 miles, I hit 50.0mph fully loaded up, then immediately hit the brakes - exhilarating but scary all the same.

Even in the ghost town i managed to find a bar...

Montana: Dry prairie and big mountains

I rode with, or rather in the same area as, Richard & Peter
for a couple of days, they`d both lost cycling partners and
paired up along the way

After finding my own way to Yellowstone, I`d only seen 4 other long distance tourers (3 in south Dakota, 1 in Wyoming), I hit the Adventure Cycling Association routes in Montana and was suddenly inundated with cyclists at almost every turn - on a single day into Missoula I probably saw 15 - too many to keep my promise to stop and talk to everybody. It was awesome to swap stories though - one guy, Seth, had been riding coast -to-coast for 18 months, was on his 3rd bike (2 got stolen) and was in no hurry to finish. thers had stories of the people they`d lost or met along the way - A crazy young guy who ran out of money and was stealing his way across America (fortunately I didn`t meet him), partners who picked up injuries had to leave pushing two guys into riding together. It seems I`ve been pretty lucky and am also flying compared to others that do somewhere between 30 and 70 miles a day.

The deluge of cyclists also had a polarising effect on towns:

One of 2 big passes into a raging headwind in my hardest day
since the heat and humidity of Wisconsin & Illinois

At Twin Bridges I found a free cyclist`s shelter had been added to the rest area by the river, complete with soft grass, common room, shower and toilet - heaven! Unfortunately I arrived just after the county fair and rodeo had finished, but everybody in the local bar was super friendly and maybe a little drunk, after a couple of hours in their company maybe so was I. However, at Jackson Hot Springs, after an 86 mile ride into dry head winds over 2 big mountain passes that batterred the hell out of me, the local hotel insited on $30 to simply pitch a tent and would not shift, clearly cyclists had become part of the economy here. It took 3 litres of water and another burger to see me right again - only in America could your body get so used to burgers that it begins to crave them when tired, dehydrated and hungry.

Since Iowa, I`d been hammering the miles to make sure I could ride all the way up to Vancouver to see my friends there on time, as a result I hadn`t had a rest day in 2 weeks, I felt good but didn`t want to overly abuse my body. On a freezing morning, a last push over the beautiful forested slopes of Chief Joseph Pass took me over the continental divide and gave me the the luxury of a 90 mile fast (30mph plus for 8 miles chasing trucks around sweeping bends) then gentle descent brought me into Missoula and 139 miles at an average of 17mph bought me the day off I`d been craving for. Jim and Mel were kind enough to put me up for 2 days, allowing me to rest up and catch up with life, which I`d kind of ignored for a couple of weeks.

Over the divide for the last time, just before a 90 mile, 4,000ft descent into Missoula

Finally I`d left the Sturgis bikers behind, but now I had to decide how to get to Vancouver.

Wyoming: Mountains, Desert & National Parks

I'm in the high country now for sure, all of Wyoming is over 3,000 ft and if you pick the wrong road you can find yourself climbing for over 40km to a pass that's over 10,500 ft high! There are ways of avoiding the the highest passes, but to do so involves 100+ mile detours across dry, sparsely populated plains. The prospect of these had been on my mind since leaving Iowa, so now it was decision time!

Devil's tower, from the pine forest at its base

Trying to hit as many national parks & forests as possible, I first headed for devil's tower, solidified magma that stands proud of the surrounding plains. The park around it allows you walk all the way round and see the 5 climbers that were ascending that morning, of course i asked if i could join them, but apparently my cycling sandals were not suitable.





The other, less glamorous side of Wyoming is its mineral wealth, the ride into Gillette, the self proclaimed "Energy capital of America", was ugly, with 2km long trains of coal, big open cast mines and wrecked landscapes. the town itself was nothing to write home about either, and when you find that Super 8 rooms cost $109 a night, it's clearly doing well. Sadly not even the 2 pretty girls behind the desk could persuade me to part with that much money, so I was at the $25 campsite, with train horns waking me up all night.

On from Gillette to Sheridan and the base of the Big Horns, I stopped in Spotted Horse, on the map and even the Atlas, a village of population 2 - that'd be the barmaid and cook at the bar then. It obviously supports a wider community of farmers, but largely survives on the money the Sturgis Bike rally brings in over 2 weeks at the start of August. The roads this side of Wyoming traverse High Prairie, with plenty of deer, crazy fast antelope and hawks around, at one point almost every field (which are quite big) had a small herd in it.

4,500ft climbing in 14 miles - just a little "hill"

Heaven for a heavy cyclist

So there was nothing else for it but to attack the big horns - 5000 ft above the prairie, you climb most of it in one go, then descend back to the height you started, literally like having a brick wall between you and Yellowstone. Setting off early, I hit the climb at about 9am, to get onto the plateau I had to climb Cutler "Hill", 4,500ft of vertical climbing in 14 miles with a grade of 4-6%. the views were awesome, and obviously encouraged regular stops, where friendly bikers would again tell me that I'm crazy. On top it was pretty cold, I even got hit by a hailstorm, Art who'd come up the other way looked way tougher than me, he'd climbed 18 miles with his trailer hooked on behind and, in his 60s, was cycling from the west coast to visit his brother in Wisconsin, no idea if he also planned to cycle back afterwards. The reward for all the climbing was the 18 mile descent down Shell gorge, following the Shell river past tumbling falls, steep granite and other rock walls via twisting chicanes which I was much more suited to than the big, lumbering American cars.

Taking a break to admire the view on the long downhill

Rock Outcrops on the Big Horns

Rock formations in Shoshone National Forest

After the big horns it was a easy ride into Yellowstone, or so it should have been - 50 miles gradual climb to Cody was supposed to be a short half day to get some rest, instead it delivered my 2nd & 3rd punctures of the trip, too many beers (75 cent happy hour pints), bad food (you could only buy deep fried wings after 9pm) and a late night. So instead of attacking the climb to Yellowstone fresh and early, I started tired and late with a hangover and a dodgy belly... The first part of the climb, through Shoshone National Forest is supposed to have the most dense bear population in the world, but as I'd shelled out $21 on bear spray of course I saw nothing but trees and tarmac.






Finally I got to Yellowstone and with the help of a steak for lunch, the hangover had finally lifted, just in time for the scenery to become amazing. Climbing into the park took me over 8,500ft but, the views of the forest with snow capped peaks behind were amazing. The pass brought you in above Yellowstone lake and past the burnt out forests from a massive wildfire a couple of decades ago. Deer could be seen by the side of the road and I even caught a muskrat or beaver swimming across a creek.

Scenic views in Yellowstone park

Dealing with a Bison Jam on a bicycle - they're enormous!

With little over 2 hours before dusk, I decided to take on the 16 miles to Canyon, relatively flat, along the scenic Yellowstone river, it should have been a doddle, until I encountered my 1st and only Bison Jam - this really was something to get the adrenaline pumping, you quickly realise how vulnerable you are on a bike when a 200 strong herd of bison are all over the road, males charging each other 20 yards away and calves (with protective mothers) strewn everywhere. I dodged in and out of cars, using them like metal shields, but it still took me about 15 minutes to get through and sprint up the hill to get a view of the general carnage (adrenaline is useful for something). Fortunately I also had time to take in Yellowstone Falls and its colourful gorge, formed by millenia of volcanic activity

The rest of the park was awesome, but by Saturday (my 2nd day) the day tourists had arrived in vast numbers. I wasn't sure whether they'd come to see the geysers, buy souvenirs or check out the wildlife, which apparently included me! My favourites, were the lycra clad cyclists on a organised tour with their super light, unloaded, carbon bikes, high-fiving each other after their 1,000ft climb to Old Faithful - well done guys.

Blending in with the wildlife

Yellowstone's famous Geysers

 Anyway, it was all too much for me - time to head on into Montana. 3,000 miles done, around 100,000ft of climbing, next up the continental divide and ideally a long downhill to the Pacific ocean where I can finally shave off my beard which is beginning to scare me, especially the bugs it can pick up in a day's cycling!

South Dakota - Open Plains, Black Hills and Motorbikes

RAGBRAI people are awesome - Mike, Jacob and Chuck kindly relayed me right across the state of Iowa and delivered me onto the perfect road to continue west in South Dakota, there aren't many roads here either, I'd be on the SD44 for the next 3 days!

Chuck kindly gave me a lift into South Dakota after RAGBRAI and even held my bike for me!

South Dakota's Open roads

Best town ever

After 10 days of company and craziness on RAGBRAI, it took a couple of days to get used to the usual solitude of riding, Ash seem to be constant company as songs go through my head that I haven't listened to in 15 years. The first half of South Dakota is as flat and open as you could imagine, wheat replaces the corn of Iowa, but for mile after mile there's nothing but fields. Carrying enough water becomes a problem, 3-4 litres is sometimes not enough, so at any gas station you'd find me downing big cups of pop, fortunately something America does very well. There was no guarantee that a town on the atlas would actually be more than a house and a couple of people, so it was critical to find out if there was anywhere to get food or water ahead, some stretches were up to 70 miles of nothing. People don't just move around RVs around here, they also transport whole houses along the road, if these hit you head on, the wind would almost knock you off the bike, but being overtaken by one sucked you into the vacuum they created and dragged you along for about half a mile. I saw my first coast-to-coasters here too, I retired american guy and a Californian called Cirrus WALKING my route in reverse, that day I covered 129 miles but felt weak compared to Cirrus, who had 50 miles to walk before he'd next be able to get fresh water, but for him this was not unusual.


Some of the towns just needed tumbleweed to add to their run down appearance, in fact at one, the lovely named Scenic, where I had hoped to get some lunch, instead I found that the whole town was up for sale! No idea why anybody would want to buy it other than to host some sort of cult though, although it did have it's own wild west kind of charm.

Finally, approaching the Badlands NP, the land started to have a bit of relief to it, I never thought I'd be wishing for hills, but the strange thing was that I had been. 

Finally some relief instead of the flat plains

Badland NP in the early morning

The lure of the Badlands national park pushed me on to a new record day in the saddle, despite the hills, as I wanted to catch it at first light. The park is absolutely stunning, and really the pictures speak for themselves - an otherworldly landscape of rock formations and open plains with Prairie Dogs, long horn sheep and deer roaming freely. The native indian history adds to the appeal, and these areras are very special to them, especially those in the reservations that surround the National Park. The reservations are themselves quite sobering, the indians are relatively poor and there is very little visible of their culture left.

Not a toy, but a friendly prairie dog

With South Dakota came the threat of rattlers - I never saw one, but almost ran over a thin black & yellow stripped one

After the Badlands it was onto the Black Hills, where South Dakota appear to carve things into big rocks in the hope of attracting tourism... and it works especially at this time of year, as I arrived just as the Sturgis Motorcycle rally began - the biggest in the world, that must pull in tens of thousands of bikers from all over the world. Despite their scary appearance - Big, lumbering, tattooed guys in leather - the bikers were more friendly than you could imagine. They obviously thought I was completely crazy, but in reality they were doing much the same as me, meeting up with some buddies to tour the country, party and see the open road. They just don't just stay around Sturgis, it would take me 2 weeks and into Montana, before I lost the ever present noise of motorbike engines overtaking me.

An old railroad trail through the black hills

The black hills were busy, but I was shown a back route to get up into them avoiding the highway, what i wasn't told was that the back roads had grades of 15%+, that was a bit of a killer in the heat of the day. The hills themselves were stunning, but the roads were crazy and the towns, although they had some wild west charm, were largely tourist traps. I did find a gorgeous trail though, up an old railroad, away from the major roads - riding up it, alongside a creek at dusk I got covered in insects that made my whole front look black, when I arrived at the bar I was aiming for after dark, they thought I was "an alien" coming up the street, but still welcomed me in and let me pitch my tent in their yard. I thought the beard might help me fit in better, but compared to the mountain beard & hairstyles on show that night, I may as well have come straight from the office, clean shaven in my suit.

RAGBRAI - It's not about the bike

How to explain RAGBRAI to an outsider...

It's about 15,000 riders cycling through Iowa's cornfields, passing through tiny villages where nothing normally happens. It's enough to bankroll these communities for years. The whole thing is sponsored by Beer companies and escorted by the state patrol - it appears drinking & cycling are actively encouraged in IOWA. A friend of mine once described it as "you ride 10 miles, drink 3 beers, then repeat 7 times a day for 7 days". Cycling wise it's not too challenging at only 415 miles for the week, but RAGBRAI take a different type of stamina, as you certainly won't be getting much sleep.

Me & Kevin - the wig is borrowed from Team Spin, apparently they're not too pleased about that

This was my 2nd year at RAGBRAI, my friend Kevin dragged me out last year so I knew what to expect and was no longer a "Virgin". I'd also met most of Team Fish and it was good to catch up with everybody. The ride out was wild as always, a couple of stops meant we didn't roll in to the start town until 10pm. The team Fish bus, like many others, is a converted yellow school bus with bikes racked on the roof, bunks and facing benches inside. Add a couple of coolers of beers and it can all get a little crazy.

Most riders head out early, and aroun 7 & 8am the roads can be insanely busy - 7 or 8 riders across the road for as far as you can see, a long way on the straight roads. With people going at many different speeds and some unexperienced riders it can be dangerous and requires far too much concentraetion, food is laid on along the route, but queues can get long - 75m on the day we rode out early. Beer gardens are set up along the route, and each bar was doing a year's trade in a day. As the day moves on the roads thin out and pace lines start moving faster, beer gardens also have their inevitable effect until the state patrol (team Buzzkill) roll in and shut everything up to move people on and get them to the end town by 6pm. However, if you time it right or have enough patience, the bars repopen after about 40 mins and they might start giving food away. You can always understand where you stand on the day by how far ahead or behind the state patrol you are.

Rainbow drinking in Iowa

Most of the time I was some way behind the state patrol, particularly later in the day. Taking off-route shortcuts along trails, meant hitting some bars that weren't neccessarily expected us and very happy to have us fill their bars. In one, a game of flippy cup went on for 2 hours as the owner kept on refilling the 24 pack of beers (that initially cost $25) for free. Riding in at dusk on the first day, we played on a giant water slide then there was a stunning deep red sunset that made it all worthwhile.

Fish Virgin Heather scales the biggest bike in the World as the sun sets on Day 1



As the week continues, there is less time spent on the bike and more spent in bars, cornfields, grass verges, Caseys car parks, in fact anywhere that a group of friends can gather without being in the sun, which gets very hot. the cycling was generally ok, though tiredness plays a big factor. Being way too stubborn I refused to "sag" (take a ride) on any bus and probably missed a few crazy bus parties, but despite this the week created far too many stories and memories to describe here, you'll just have to come to Iowa and experience it for yourself another year. Our antics did manage to land us in "Jail" though, no charges though, clearly the english accent worked to explain it away.

Locked up in Iowa

Mr USA

As for now, I'm waiting on a lift west and keen to get started again. It's already been a big come down as everybody left, but it'll be very different riding alone instead of with 15,000 crazy people.