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The Laundromat Inn

Posted January 29, 2013 By admin

 

Cindy and Mary Anne washing clothes in the Laundromat Inn.

 

January 29, 2013 
 

In the summer of 2000, I cycled across America from California to Virginia with two friends, Cindy and Mary Anne. I met them on a bicycle tour of the Mississippi River in 1997. For two months we cycled self-contained with all of our gear loaded on our bikes. 

On June 7, we left Burney, California and headed out into a beautiful morning. It would be a short thirty-mile day to McArthur, California. We were riding in the Cascade mountain range and would be experiencing several challenging climbs.

For the next twenty miles, we were captivated by a brilliant blue-sky morning.  Deer watched as we rolled by their wooded playground, and some were curious enough to greet us in the road. Far to the northwest, Mt. Shasta’s snow covered peak seemed to peer over my shoulder. Like a comforting friend, it kept me company along the way and inspired me on long climbs. Pine and cedar trees dotted the landscape along the narrow road. It was a great time to be communing with nature.  
When we arrived in McArthur, we found a small RV park in the town’s Intermountain Fairgrounds. We secured a tent site, and other than two RV’s had the whole place to ourselves. We parked our bikes and sat down at a picnic table for a snack. It was 1 p.m. and Cindy, a fifth grade teacher, had a former student coming to visit. As we sat there munching on crackers, the wind picked up and nasty clouds started moving in. Our site was out in the open with no protection from the elements. It was cold!

After Cindy’s company left, the weather got ugly. It started raining and black clouds began hurling lightning bolts. There was no way we could stay there. We’d get soaked, fried and then blown away. After some discussion, Cindy suggested that we ask to stay in the park Laundromat. She said she had done it before on other bike trips. Well Mary Anne and I had never heard of such a thing and thought Cindy had lost it.  

She proved us wrong. She asked the park manager and got permission for us to move into the Laundromat Inn. So, with little fanfare we wheeled our mighty steeds into Suds-R-Us. What a great place! We were out of the elements, had a payphone, a huge sink, clothing racks, a coke machine, comfortable chairs and our own washer and dryer.

There was only one laundry customer that night: a young man working construction in the area. He was surprised when he walked in and saw three loaded touring bikes, clothes hanging everywhere and Cindy cooking up a storm on her little gas stove. While he stuffed his clothes into the washer, we told him about our bike trip and our weather-related tale of woe. After dinner, we folded laundry and settled into our sleeping bags for our first all-night pajama party.

A week later, Mary Anne and I had another Laundromat Inn experience in Arco, Idaho. This time Cindy opted to camp out in the blustery, stormy weather and dozed off with her tent flapping and swaying in the wind.  

Tailwinds,

Kathy 

 

Cindy posing with our loaded drying rack.

 

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A Down-home Flying Machine!

Posted January 18, 2013 By admin

 

A view of the down-home flying machine in Benoit, Mississippi.

 

January 18, 2013


The “Mighty Mississippi Bicycle Adventure” was one of my favorite supported cycling tours. In July 1997, I had the opportunity to ride 1,600 miles down the Mississippi River from Minneapolis, Minnesota to New Orleans, Louisiana. Along with twenty other cyclists, I pedaled through sleepy river towns, and bustling cities; spun along locks, bluffs and levees; and biked by fertile farmland, cow filled pastures, cotton fields and vast plantations. It was a memorable three weeks cycling along Mark Twain’s river of dreams.   

One day I had the unique experience of riding with Jay, a pastor from Frankfort, Kentucky. Jay, referred to as the “pedaling pastor,” was riding to raise funds for Habitat for Humanity. He rode a vintage ten-speed bike held together by dirt and rust, which caused him to shake, rattle and roll down the road. The two-wheel relic needed a prayer, or some divine intervention! 

 On our eighty-mile day from Clarksdale to Greenville, Mississippi, we rolled through steamy delta countryside by an occasional trailer scattered among cotton fields, soybeans and catfish farms. At mile sixty, we entered the small town of Benoit. While talking with the locals, Jay heard about a woman who lived in a 727- airplane fuselage. According to the stories flying around town, she purchased the plane from a scrap yard for two thousand dollars and then for a mere four grand had it towed to her property on an oxbow lake. Since it was only a couple of miles away, we had to check it out!   

With directions in hand, we rolled out of the gas station and turned onto a dirt road. We were told to ride down the road until we came to a levee. The hot dusty road led us by barns and dry fields scattered with an occasional old cud chewer reminiscing about its former cow tipping days. After passing the levee, we cycled through a refreshing green forest of pine trees. I welcomed the cool shade as we rode by house after house set back in along the lakeshore.

We cruised around several minutes looking for the grounded aircraft. Where was the down-home flying machine we were told about? With no success and no one around to ask, I was wondering if we had the right lake or even the right state. Considering the odds of having an airplane fuselage in ones neighborhood, you would think it would be easy to find. Finally, I heard Jay shout, “Da plane, da plane.”

We found the long awaited dream house hovering by the water. Propped up on metal and concrete, the white fuselage had a carport on each side that simulated wings. The tail less wonder was huge and had enough windows in it to gear up a “peeping Tom” into overdrive. We had a great time posing with the 727 but with no one home to question we could only wonder what was lurking inside. Maybe wingback chairs with color-coordinated seatbelts and floating devices decorated the dive.

 Soon, it was time for our layover to end. Cleared for takeoff we taxied onto a runway made up of decorative lighting and hit the road. What a great find in rural Mississippi!  So the next time you’re in the market for a new home, think outside the box and see if you can land yourself a 727. Just think of the unique experience you’ll have living in an airliner. The sky’s the limit!

While writing this blog I was curious to see if there were any stories online about the plane. Here is what I found: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sB8eLH72-es

Tailwinds, 

Kathy 

 

 

Another view of the tailess wonder. (The back of the plane where the tail has been removed)

 

 

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A Submarine Called Santa Fe

Posted January 5, 2013 By admin

New Franklin, Missouri… the beginning of the Santa Fe Trail.

 

 

January 5, 2013

How did I get involved in my passion, bicycle touring? It all started with a submarine called Santa Fe. In January 1994, my husband was in command of a newly built attack submarine, USS Santa Fe (SSN 763) in Groton, Connecticut. During the submarine’s new construction phase, members from the host city, Santa Fe, New Mexico participated in the ship’s christening and commissioning ceremonies.

In honor of the commissioned submarine, Santa Fe author Elaine Pinkerton sent the crew a copy of her book, The Santa Fe Trail by Bicycle. Inspired by the book, the Chief of the Boat rallied several of his shipmates around the idea of cycling the Santa Fe Trail as a personal test and as a way to visit the submarine’s namesake city.

After getting permission from the command, plans for the trip started. The USS Santa Fe Lightning Express bicycle club was formed to organize, plan and help train those interested in cycling the trail. The trip was open to crew members and their families. I jumped at the chance to be a part of the amazing adventure.

At the age of 41, I was a bicycle-touring novice and didn’t own a bike. The closest I came to cycling was riding my indoor exercise bike. Over the next nine months, I immersed myself in information on bikes, cycling equipment and training. After months of preparation and the purchase of my new Cannondale R-500 road bike, I was ready to spin all the way to Santa Fe.

 

The fifteen passenger van that supported us along the trail.

 

On the morning of September 15, 1994, eleven crew members and I started on our way to New Franklin, Missouri, the start of the Santa Fe Trail. We rode in a fifteen-passenger van that hauled a trailer packed with gear and six bikes. The remaining bikes were stowed on top of the van along with two car top carriers. One thousand miles later, on the morning of September 16, we arrived in New Franklin. We were ready to spend our two-day layover exploring the historic town and meeting its people during their Santa Fe Trail Days Festival.

After two days of parades, cow patty bingo, live bands, picnics and a carnival, we left New Franklin on September 18 and headed out into a crisp fall morning. The start of our two week, 1,129 mile supported bike tour had begun. As I spun my pedals, I was filled with excitement and expectation. I knew that the ten of us cycling were in good hands. We had the support of the van and its two drivers. All we had to do was head west and enjoy the beautiful day. 

 

In New Franklin, we pose in front of the Santa Fe Trail Monument before starting our trek.

 

As we cycled along the trail through four states, we were proud to represent the newly commissioned fast-attack submarine, USS Santa Fe. Along with promoting physical fitness and the Navy, we cycled to honor our namesake city. In the towns and cities that we stayed in, we presented ship’s plaques, pictures and information on submarines to every Chamber of Commerce, American Legion and group that supported us. It was truly an amazing two weeks.

When we arrived in Santa Fe October 1, 1994, we were greeted by the Mayor and treated to two days of parties, tours and a hot air balloon festival. It was a memorable time. The kind people, places and experiences I encountered along the trail are still with me today. This was my first long distance cycling tour and I had come through unscathed and with a sense of accomplishment. I was hooked on touring and ready to once again take to the highway and explore America.

So, try something new in your life. It doesn’t matter how old you are. It doesn’t matter what season you’re in. Follow a dream. Take a chance. Start on a new journey. You never know where that “beginning” will take you. Who knows, I may meet you some day cycling along the backroads of America!

Tailwinds,

Kathy

 

In Santa Fe, New Mexico posing with city officials at the Santa Fe monument.

 

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Oh, the Places You’ll Go!

Posted January 2, 2013 By admin

 

Alpine meadows at Logan Pass in Glacier National Park

 

January 2, 2013

 

One of my favorite things to do on New Year’s Day is to watch the Rose Parade. The parade theme this year was “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” based on a book written by Dr. Seuss. We can all benefit from its message of following our dreams, with faith, patience, a “can do” attitude and perseverance.

Whether you are starting 2013, a new school, a new career, or a new relationship, you start out with high hopes and enthusiasm. Along the way, you may face adversity that will disappoint, worry, or cause you to give up. This is where you have to maintain a positive attitude, focus on the goal and push through.

When I begin a new cycling trip, I try to start out with a positive attitude and an acceptance of what lies ahead. I never know what I’ll find down the road or around the next curve. It could be a blessing or an obstacle. Yes, it could be a heavenly tailwind or a wicked mountain pass. What gives me comfort, is knowing that with faith, patience, and perseverance, I will conquer that mountain. When I get to the top, I am grateful, stronger and feel a sense of accomplishment.

So where will 2013 take you? Just follow your dreams! Oh, the places you will go!

“You’re off to Great Places. Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting, So… get on your way!” Dr. Seuss

Tailwinds,

Kathy

 

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Beginnings….

Posted January 1, 2013 By admin

 

Cycling along Montana's Madison River.

Cycling along Montana’s Madison River.

 

January 1, 2013

 

Happy New Year!! It’s been over two years since I’ve completed my last cross-country bicycle trip. In the interim, I’ve experienced a time of reflection and personal growth. Now, I am ready to embark on a new journey, this time along the “information superhighway”, where I will spin words from my keyboard and log pages on my blog, Cycling Life’s Highway. I can’t think of a better way to start off the New Year!

As I reflect on my eighteen years of touring, I have fond memories of the people, places and experiences along the way. Cycling the back roads of America, have been life changing and have molded and shaped the person that I am today. My time on the road has inspired me to write about my experiences and how they relate to this journey called life.  As I share my  stories, insights and observations, come cycle life’s highway with me.

Tailwinds,

Kathy

 

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