Culling the Gear - Hutchinson, KS

36mi
7.2avs

Triple digits again today. With the wind, it doesn't feel as downright hot as it did in Iowa, at least. The heat still catches up, though. to I felt sluggish and weighed down all day, sick and tired when I'd stop. The ride was short, at least - a shortcut off the TransAm, 33 miles along highway 50. It was characterless and dull, with none of the rolling green that I identify as 'typical Kansas', but I really just wanted to get to Hutchinson quickly.

Michelle and Ryan stayed back in Newton, today, visiting friends. I'm taking a rest day in Hutchinson, where we'll hopefully meet up. Cyclists get to stay in the Zion Lutheran Church, here, where a hostel has long been set up for them. A few mattresses in a curtained off area, showers, a kitchen, and notes left by decades of cyclists.

In the last few days, I've come upon an unexpected facet of traveling so heavily loaded. It's lonely. Everyone I've met has been faster than I. I'd still be nervous about riding with others, but I want to have that as an option. I want to be able to catch up with other touring cyclists. I know I can match the daily mileage of many other 'explorer' type cyclists, I've met and enjoyed that challenge on several occasions, but now I'd like to be able to stop along the way more, relax a bit, and get into town before dusk.

Having installed myself in the church hostel, I set about reducing my gear load. The three pounds of instant potato soup I've been carrying became one pound, in a baggy instead of canister. My powerade mix went into a baggy, the butter went into the trash(Most of the little packets where leaking anyway). With the reduced packaging, I could fit almost all my food into the bear barrel. I very briefly considered abandoning that.

After the food was culled down a bit, I turned to the trailer. Everything in it I felt I'd need, but maybe I could reorganize a bit to reduce bulk. Two clothing sacks instead of three would fit side-by-side, with no digging around to reach the buried third. The underwear bag was divided between the top and bottom bag. I almost left off there, with little accomplished.

Living with my parents in Plymouth, I had only a room to fill with junk, but fill it I did. Once every year or two, however, I'd get the impulse to go on a purge. Anything I did not foresee imminent use for, anything more sentimental than pertinent would be hauled out in a series of black trash bags. I'd feel guilty about trashing items that could have been sold or donated, but I also knew that if I waited to better dispose of them I'd lose my momentum and end up keeping most of it. It's funny how my expectations have shrunk to my current situation - nearly all I own of importance in the world fits on the back of a bike, but it's too much!

In the end I got rid of the extra food, a folding chair, a chafey chamois, an unflattering jersey, some really nice socks I never wear, a spare glove I found during Ragbrai, a bottle of dry lube, some tools I don't know how to use, the super-comfortable pants which I wore through the better part of last winter(Yes, Mom. Those pants), half a huge bottle of ibuprofen, one of two long-sleeved shirts, a few pairs of undies, a grease-stained bra, and a swimsuit bottom. This time there was no associated guilt, as I left the tools, gear, and non-underwear clothing in the hostel gear exchange for the use of other passing cyclists. For myself, I gained some tight, sleek biking shorts and new gloves. The extra space created in my trailer is astounding.

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Newton Athletic Park in the morning.

Roadside find - a sealed package of cookies.

Downtown Hutchinson.

In the midst of a gear-culling.

What I've been up to

July 15th, my departure date, approaches startlingly fast. At the moment I'd say I've gone beyond nervousness and am purely excited, but who knows what'll happen in the days before I finally leave.

In the last few weeks, I've been pruning back my needs. My route is shorter than it was months ago, I've slashed off the loop around central Colorado. I regret I won't likely ride the Rio Grande Trail, or visit the Grand Canyon this year. Among the items I'll have to go without is the rather handy titanium wood stove, a better cell phone + plan, a new camp knife, Trigger-shifters and ergon grips for my bike, and new tires(Without the stealth-camp busting reflective stripe, please!), and a few other things I've banished from mind.

My last few purchases are coming in now - a spoke wrench, chain tool, rechargeable batteries. I'm teetering on the edge of deciding rather or not I should get an eye exam and contacts before leaving, and now I have it in my head that I could really use a new netbook. The old lifebook isn't quite up to the task of running Lightroom. A new machine, as well, would go much further in convincing me to keep up with this blog.

I've also been on three short tours which have gone woefully unrecorded. Two where rather special in that my mother came with me on her wobbly mountain bike. The third was an occasion in which to push myself on to long miles and be assured I can still handle arduous days in the saddle. Hopefully I'll find time, eventually, to go into more detail on those.

Burley Nomad in Action

I neglected to mention some weeks ago that I got myself a Burley Nomad Cargo Trailer. I found a seller off Craigslist selling one in may-as-well-be-new condition for $250, and jumped on it. Originally, I had planned on getting a BOB like most touring cyclist who go the trailer route. These initial impressions are what predominantly swung me towards the Nomad:

• Cargo room: Much more of it. Some may point out that with so much space, one would be tempted to fill it. Well, I'll certainly do that, and be glad for it, too!
• Balance and Handling: The Burley Nomad only transfers 10% of its total weight to the bicycle, reducing frame and wheel stress. It won't fishtail, swing, or tip over when you park. It makes little difference rather its loaded evenly or not.
• Design: The Burley Nomad is designed like a trunk for your bicycle, rather then a big crumpled bag on a wagon. It's easier to root through in a hurry, and easier to keep organized. The trailer can easily be snapped into the hitch with one hand, and is easy to move around when detached.

Unfortunately, there is no great wealth of product reviews for the Burley Nomad. Most of those available review it as an around-the-town grocery hauler. Among those, I heard of various drawbacks: Its not weatherproof enough. It is not durable enough to handle rough trails or roads. Its too wide. Just looking at it, I was worried I'd feel like I was carrying a wide load, or it would jerk my bike around if I tracked it through a pothole or over grass.

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After putting the trailer to use, heavily loaded, over gravel, limestone, pavement, and a bit of dirt, I'm entirely pleased with it. My average speed over nonpaved surface was significantly lower than usual, but without the effort of balancing loaded panniers, I felt less exhausted than I suspect I otherwise would have. Over paved surface, I may well have made better time with the trailer.

The attachment arm dampens most jarring from the trailer. I made an extra effort to drag it over lumps, rocks, and potholes to assure myself of this. Even with one wheel on a rumble strip, it just rattles enough to alert you. I've heard of these trailers tipping, but even while intentionally unbalancing it, I never felt it came near toppling over.

The width of the trailer, though no wider then a pair of stuffed ortliebs, does cause me to be a bit more cautious about what is going on down at wheel-level. So far, however, I've not felt cramped by it, nor have I hit any curbs. I've yet to take it out on any narrow, high traffic roads, so I can't say how that'll be. I've heard that in general, folks see the big yellow trailer and give you a wide berth. I also wonder if it might distract aggressive dogs. I suspect the one that chased me was more playful than angry, but it did seem a great deal more interested in my trailer than my bike. I can live with that.

The spacious cargo compartments are great. I love being able to stop, prop up the bike, snap off the cover and have easy access to all my gear in one place. I rode through some heavy rain, any only minimal water and grit found its way into the gaps. For this run, I wrapped my gear up in a tarp. Next time, I'll have made a snap on weather cover out of a bit of tarp, both to keep the trailer relatively clean, and because the yellow covering seems like it might soak through, given enough steady rain. I may also sew some mesh pockets onto the top for drying herbs on the go, thus weakening its weather resistance.

So, in summary - with about 100mi on the Burley Nomad trailer, I'm thrilled with it. It's a joy to ride without the effort of balancing loaded panniers. It is wonderfully spacious and well designed. Hopefully after 1000mi I'll still be saying the same.

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Waverly to Home

- 42.5mi
- 8.0AvS
- Rainy morning, some sun after 2pm. 60-70s.

The park in which I camped last night seemed like a smart place to stealth camp. Several miles from the town center, it was surrounded by farms and what looked to be some sort of maintenance facility. A picnic area of mowed grass angled just enough from the gravel parking space so it would not be visible unless one where on foot. There where no bathrooms to lock, and it didn't feel like a place that would be patrolled. There was a long trail along the river, but I decided not to hide back there, rather to camp in the picnic area near a paved picnic table pad, to give myself a dry place to pack up in the morning.

Seems I should have taken greater effort to hide myself. The spot I picked was very comfortable, though, and I got all the sleep I missed last night. I was so soundly asleep, in fact, that it took the cop several attempts to wake me up, and even once I groggily unzipped the tent, It took a bit longer to remember where I was and realize that this guy was wearing a uniform. He was pretty decent about it, more conversational with his questions than demanding. Seems there are no canoe campsites in the riverside county parks, after all, but he'd let me stay the rest of the night.

I stayed uncharacteristically calm about the whole thing, and quickly fell back asleep. It wasn't until I was back on my bike, again at 5:30 in the morning, that I started to worry about it. When he took my ID, did he just check up on me, or add some kind of note so the next time I get caught snoozing in a park I won't be let off so easily? The officer who caught me actually got out of his car and walked around the quiet little park in the middle of the night. He told me no resident had spotted me and called - he's just very thorough. How many other small town cops are that thorough?

Eventually I decided to just let it go and not agonize over how I'm going to stealth camp across long stretches of farmland. I'll avoid even isolated little parks where possible, but if I get caught again, or even fined... well, the monetary loss would hurt when I'm already on such a tight budget, but I won't feel guilty about it. The law isn't the dictate of a higher power. It's not an iron code of morals. If I break it, I have to face the consequences, but, in short, I'm not going to feel I'm a bad person because I didn't follow the rules.

The rest of the day was a typical dull ride home, unfortunately. I stopped again to read for a while closer to Waverly. It's a nice routine so far. Had some unfortunately stomach problems a bit further on. Between Montrose and Delano, it started to pour. I didn't break my rain pants, but the coat and home-made booties did their job, and as long I kept moving I wasn't too cold. About 10mi from home, the sun came out for a bit, and I just barely got home before the rain returned.

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One of those sunrises I'm usually asleep for.

Maybe I should start getting up this early more often?

My rain booties. They're made from the upper sleeve of a cheap raincoat. The shoulder section makes the shoe-cover, which is folded into shape, sewn, and coated with seamseal. Where my foot contacts the pedal, it's padded with two layers of cordura. A bit rough-looking, but they worked very well.

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In the last week, I've...

• Bought, received, and used my new Trangia camp stove. It took about twenty minutes to get a full water bottle to a rolling boil. In defense of the device, I was using using a coleman folding stove as a stand, which is anything but efficient. I've got my eye on the Vargo Titanium Woodstove, which has been shown to work well in conjunction with the trangia, able to boil a similar amount of water in about eight minutes.


• Found an Oggi food-grade stainless steel water bottle discarded along the Luce Line trail. A bit scraped up and dirty, but no real damage. Score! I picked up a second stainless steel bottle at a thrift store for $2. Both are uncoated and safe to heat water in.


• Finally stopped deliberating tents and bought this. I've only seen the coal/sage version on Sierra Trading post, and they where running a one day sale. I ended up paying $93 with free shipping. Pictures and more impressions once it arrives.


• Failed several times to bake damper over a campfire. Ray Mears makes it look too easy, you know? Maybe I'll have time for another attempt tomorrow.


• Attended an orientation for my new job. It was... long.


• Trimmed down a 9.5x12ft nylon tarp and am in the process of fashioning the cast-off bits into a fitted bike cover. I also made a pair waterproof shoe covers from the sleeves of a superfluous rubbery raincoat. Pictures when both are complete and proven functional.


• Added to my camping maps. A few hike & bike sites in Oregon, local stealth camp hideouts, and state forest free campgrounds in New Mexico.


• Discovered this blog. The post to which I linked is of particular significance. You see, though I plan on driving more traffic to my own blog as my departure date nears, but I'm unsure of how to sell it, so to speak. Most of the successful, captivating, long standing, bicycle tour sites are focused on a different sort of experience than I intend for myself. Laura and Russ of PathLessPedaled.com refer to their meandering, vagabond life as an 'open ended bicycle tour', and I think I'll borrow that term. Had I discovered their blog while I was early in the planning of my own meandering, vagabond future, I could easily say I modeled my plans on their own.


• Felt fairly well cheated by the weather. From 70 degree days and 30 degree nights, it has plummeted back down to 40 degree days, rain, and... well, still 30 degree nights. It's already too late for a 10-day tour in northern Minnesota before I start work, but maybe just a few days would be nice...