Route 66 – Epilogue 1

It has been a little over 3 weeks since Ron and I finished the ride to the beginning of Route 66 in Downtown Chicago. I have been home for a little over 2 weeks. Right now it feels like a dream – did it really happen? My tan lines are slowly wearing off, the callouses on my butt have gone away, and I don’t get leg cramps at night now.

Here are some quick statistics: 2,369 miles traveled on our route through 8 states, over 37 consecutive days. No zero/rest days. Longest/shortest mileage in one day – 85.8 miles and 34.4 miles. Longest/shortest saddle time in a day – 7:10 and 2:35. This is why we had to take “butt breaks” to get off the bike every 10-20 miles. Most/least elevation climb in a day – 4,669 ft. and 269 ft. Highest/lowest Elevation – 7,303 feet and 27 feet (it was a raised pier in Santa Monica). Between us, we had 14-15 flats, 4 tubes replaced, 12-13 patches installed, at least 16 of those pesky wires removed from our tires, 8 new tubes purchased along the way, countless hours spent fixing flats on the road and patching at night. One broken spoke, 4 of 5 buttons lost on my GPS.

One lost tail light. 33 nights in hotels, one in a warm showers host, one with a friend of Ron’s, two in my brother’s home. Between us, more than 30 Blizzard/Concrete/Sundae/Pints of Ice Cream. Near the end, getting a beer with less than 12 miles to the end of a day became a tradition. We got one free beer each in Odell, IL.

Tens of Fiberglass “Muffler Giants”, preserved Gas Stations, Building Murals, Roadkill critters, Live turkeys, Antelope, Deer, Turtles, Cattle, and Dogs. Innumerable Route 66 shields were painted on the road surface. Of course countless other “Roadside Attractions”.

One deep dish pizza, pitcher of beer, Chicago Italian beef, round of golf honoring the Elvis Open, and other minor post ride celebrations around Chicago Heights.

I call myself The Lone Rider. I wanted to do this ride along Route 66 because my wife and her friends had done a road trip east to west last year and it gave me the itch to try it the other direction by bike. Ron Schleif, a long time tennis buddy I first met in Indianapolis, has been doing some long rides of his own. He let me tag along on his own Canada to Mexico ride in 2021. He expressed an interest (lack of mental capacities, early senility, insanity?) in coming along for this ride. I was glad to have him along. Unfortunately for him, he had to listen to some of my frustrations with the wind and the vocalizations from the mental jukebox playing in my head. Luckily, he shared my tastes in “fine accommodations and dining options” that were available in the remote areas we traveled. He was an easy traveling partner, resource to solve problems, and helped keep me safe.

The number one reason to do this and all the other rides was for the (often unplanned) adventure that is encountered along the way. I do extensive planning of the route, research the weather, places to stay, and things to see. It is when things don’t go according to plan that the real adventure begins. How do you cope with riding in heavy rain uphill, while passing cars pelt you with road spray? Then you’re even wetter and colder because you didn’t think you’d need your heavier rain jacket that is still in your panniers that are being carried to the next destination. Welcome to day 2 of the ride!

I do these rides now because there will come a day when I might not be physically able to do them. Do it while I am able and can! Along the way, you get to strike up conversations with strangers that have some interesting stories of their own. They can fill in the history of the places you’re seeing or simply add to the story you want to tell others. Such was the case when I talked to an old cattle rancher born in Tennessee. By sixteen he was driving a semi outside Chicago and assisted a woman giving birth in a stranded car along the roadside. Or the Indigenous American who grew up on a reservation in New Mexico. In his childhood, raised in a government school, he was beaten if he spoke his native tongue and had his head shaved as well. Yet, he served in the marines and still lives just outside of Gallup.

The other reason I did this ride was because I wanted to finish in Chicago in mid May. While there, I could visit friends and family. Even more, I would finally get a chance to attend the Symposium for this year’s George M. Pullman Educational Foundation Scholars. More of that in Epilogue 2.

The Lone Rider