Pumper: Come gather ‘round me Rocky Sprockets, young and old! Grab yourself a few cold India Pale Ales or a bottle of tequila and come sit by this roaring campfire under the stars while Top-Eye and I share an amazing bicycle trip which we took back in the olde days of the summer of 1981. Caliper, start grilling up those ribeye steaks while we give you a true bicycling story which will thrill and delight you. Inner Tube, hand me and Top-Eye some frosty Mickey beers! Quickie, heat up the hot tub!
Ever since I sold my Volkswagon Beetle Bug and bought a French-made Motobecane bicycle in 1973, the idea of biking across the country has always fascinated me. Imagine meeting Top-Eye at Down Tube’s house in 1978 and finding a like-minded soul who also was ready for adventure. We talked at length about a possible route and how to prepare for it. My mother and sister, at the time, were living in Torrance, California, a stone’s throw from the Pacific Ocean. Why not start at Torrance and work our way across America to Connecticut using maps and guidebooks?
Top-Eye: So, I was sitting on the floor in Down Tube's house with Pumper's hands strapped 'cross my engines. Here was another guy who liked to ride bicycles. And, he had a Motobecane bicycle. He liked to analyze rock songs. He was slightly goofy, a fun guy. A gentle soul. We connected! Down Tube, Pumper & I planned our first bicycle adventure for the summer of 1980. It was Friday June 20th as I recall, the last ½ day of school for the Bridgeport schools where Pumper was a teacher. On Thursday June 19th, 1980 my friend Brian Hill & I rode 22 miles from my condo in Bethel to Pumper’s duplex apartment. We met there earlier that year when Susan & I went to visit Down Tube & Marianne who lived in the unit next to Pumper & Diane.
On Thursday night, we slept at Down Tube’s apartment. On Friday after Pumper completed his last ½ day of school, we all embarked on our first weekend bicycle trip. Destination: Rocky Neck State Park. Memory fails me as to how & why that was our destination of choice. Approx 70 miles ride.
We brought tents and camped out. Our first night at the Old Lyme tavern is was legendary.
Sunday, Brian & I rode about 90 miles back to Bethel.
Down Tube & Pumper put in 70 miles back to their place.
Later that summer I rode to my Schneider Family reunion at Cady Run in Archers Fork, New Matamoras Ohio. 590 miles in four days, including 179 miles from Port Jervis to Harrisburg on the second day. The hills in Western PA are killer. Some are three miles straight up, no break. Proved to be excellent training for the following year
Training for these 1980 rides consisted of riding up to 50 miles a day over the hills of Western Ct three days a week after work.
One 50 route included a three mile long up-hill on “Good Hill Road” in Roxbury
One all-day Saturday ride was approx 120 miles from Bethel, through Southbury, past Torrington, to Winsted, to New Hartford, back to Winsted, back to Torrington, to Litchfield, to New Milford, to Brookfield and back to Bethel. At the end of the day, I was so dehydrated I couldn’t eat!
I got out of the saddle one time in Winsted to eat lunch at a Burger King.
Another ride I’m proud of was 23.5 MPH non stop up route 7 in one hour!
That was also the year I rode the Blooming metric with Pumper
After all those rides, I knew I was ready for bigger challenges.
Pumper: Top-Eye’s story rings with truth, except I’ve always taught in the Fairfield Public Schools, not Bridgeport. And I’ve never placed my hands on TopHat’s ‘engines’. That’s just un-Sprocket-like.
Top-Eye certainly prepared more for our cross-country trip than I did. Living in Bridgeport, Connecticut, those mean and crime-filled streets were not conducive to biking in 1980. I did plenty of running (4 miles) 2 or 3 times a week, however. I bought lots of maps and guidebooks for biking across the country and stayed in touch with Tops about our cross-country trip planned for the summer of 1981. I promised my 5th grade students I would send them postcards along the way (which I did). I didn’t want to tell too many people about this adventure. Not too many people would understand, I thought.
A few years earlier, perhaps around 1977, I rode from New Haven to Westerly, Rhode Island to reach 100 miles (a century). The next year I rode from Fairfield to the Bridgeport ferry, and then rode from Port Jefferson to Babylon, NY and then to Montauk, scoring another 100 miles with my brother-in-law Wayne, who promptly threw-up in my tent at the end of the ride (for ten years I could never quite get rid of the vomit smell in my North Face tent). So I had some idea of long-distance bike riding. In those days we wore shorts and a t-shirt. No helmets, clip-on shoes, fancy bike shirts, or black stretchy shorts back then.
I don’t know who came up with the idea of riding to Rocky Neck and camping for a weekend. Maybe Axle? Down Tube? Topsy? I wasn’t very familiar with that area. 70 miles seemed much better than 100 miles. Being young and naive we all thought ‘camping out’ would be really fun. We soon learned that all that gear slows you down. Especially going up big hills.
The Old Lyme Tavern. Someone should write a television mini-series about that hellhole. It smelled of cheap beer and stale urine. The floor was dirty and they had a couple of beat-up arcade games and pinball machines. I don’t ever remember having a decent meal there because the hamburgers were cold and the French fries were 7 days old and a little moldy. It was basically a place to drink $1 beers and celebrate that we made it to Rocky Neck State Park in one piece. The locals were very impressed that we rode our bikes all of the way, and the more we drank the more fun we had talking with them. One year we convinced two girls to come back to our tents, but that’s another story...
Anyway, back to planning for the cross-country trip. For a cross-country bike trip I figured I needed a sturdier bike than my Motobecane. I purchased an English-made DAWES bike for $500 (which was a heck of a lot of money back then) in 1980. Meanwhile, TopCat quit his day job at Stouffer’s Frozen Foods, and began to tour the USA with Susan in his funky VW camper. I was jealous!
I remember being very excited about doing this trip. I felt glad that Top-Eye was coming along. And Sue would be in the ’support van’. Seemed perfect. I think we planned for 6 weeks to cross America by bike.
I got my bike packed for airline travel. Diane drove me to the airport. Once in Los Angeles, Top-Eye and I would have a few days in Torrance, California to go over the routes and get supplies.
When I arrived in Torrance, Top-Eye and Sue arrived at my mother and sister’s house. We made a trip to REI to pick up some camping gear, and I remember buying a large collapsible plastic bag to carry our water when we crossed the desert. We had tents, and sleeping bags, and panniers, so our bikes were heavy with gear. We took a few trips to the Pacific Ocean which wasn’t far away, and decided we would leave early in the morning from Torrance.
Top-Eye was the map guy and the handyman. The first obstacle was to bike through the densely populated streets of Los Angeles heading EAST. There were a few sketchy areas we would be traveling through, so the game plan was to leave very early, maybe 3:00 am, to get out of Los Angeles.
We woke up and started heading EAST. We both were excited about this adventure, and we felt we were ready. The streets were fairly empty and we made good time. I think we were hoping to do 100 miles the first day. I don’t remember where we stopped for breakfast or lunch, but I do remember getting into some big hills outside of Los Angeles and thinking we were a little lost. But Top-Eye had a nose for directions, and we were soon out of the city and into the suburbs.
We ended up in Perris, California and I think it was close to 100 miles. We put up our tents by the side of the road, and got some well-needed sleep.
The next day we got on our bikes and headed to Palm Springs, California. I don’t remember if we took side roads or the Interstate 10 (yes, back in those days, bikes could travel on major highways). I think we did close to 90 miles this day. I remember getting into Palm Springs and loving the town. Super-high mountains all around in a desert environment. Dry heat! The views were breathtaking. (Little would I know that my mother would settle in Palm Springs two years later, and then I would really LOVE Palm Springs!) Our game plan was to find a cheap motel and get some sleep during the remaining daylight for a few hours and then leave at night when the weather is cooler. Riding in the desert with full camping gear is not for sissies, and with temperatures over 110 degrees during the day, nighttime riding made the most sense. I remember having a great early dinner at the Denny’s next door to our motel. We set our alarms for 9:00 pm, got out of beds, and headed due East on Interstate 10.
Riding at night on a major highway with 18-wheeler trucks and passing cars zooming next to you takes nerves of steel. And here we encountered major mountains on the outskirts of Palm Springs. We were both in ‘granny gears’ and moving slowly. Top-Eye was in better shape, so he was always a little ahead of me. I remember the one time I got semi-mad at Top-Eye as we were riding up these mountains. He wanted me to match the speed he was cycling and in the same gear. I told him: “I’m sorry, but I’m going to go at my own pace.” End of discussion.
Cycling in the middle of the night with headlights all around is creepy. Once the traffic slowed down a bit I remember looking at the side of the road and seeing red eyes following us as we climbing up. I mentioned this to Top-Eye. Perhaps a coyote or mountain lion was waiting for us to fall off the bikes and die. Very strange. But it sure was spooky!
We made it to Desert Center, a small deserted rundown shack with dead palm trees in a circle that travelers would stop at to buy a cold soda or a tired sandwich. It wasn’t open when we got there. We put our sleeping bags on picnic tables and fell asleep. We did 72 miles that night, with many of the miles going up, and up, and up. The game plan was to wake at daybreak and head east toward Phoenix on Interstate 10. I took a photo of Top-Eye snuggled in his sleeping bag on a picnic table in the early morning. Priceless!
We cycled the next morning from Desert Center to Ehrenberg, Arizona, a distance of 70 miles. At this stage we were feeling the effects of lack of sleep and feeling very tired from putting in long miles day and night. We found a truck stop at Ehrenberg. I remember putting out our sleeping bags on the rocks and feeling that this was NOT going to be an easy night. Sure enough, around 2:00 am I woke up with my head and body covered in ants. Apparently I used a bag containing Pop Tarts as my pillow, and the desert ants were feasting on the Pop Tarts and me. I remember jumping up and trying to shake these ants off my body. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Most likely, Top-Eye was laughing his ass off.
So, we come to the part of a very famous Sprocket story which has been re-told hundreds of times but bears repeating once again because it is precious.
Top-Eye and I were biking during the day, and I believe we were in Arizona on Interstate 10 riding on the shoulder. Temperatures were unbearable. Every 4 or 5 miles we would see an overpass in the desert, and we would stop our bikes and get some shade underneath from the unrelenting summer desert sun. At this particular spot, I remember I was pretty well exhausted. All I wanted to do was to sit on the side of the road and get some rest. But I was plenty thirsty, and not just for water. I made a crude sign that said: ‘BEER?’ and held it up to passing motorists who were probably going 75-80 mph. I put the sign down because no one stopped, and I was really tired and fried from the sun. A few minutes later a police car stops. “You boys have got to get off this road. You are ‘freaking’ people out who don’t expect to see bicyclists.”
For the first time, and the only time in my life, I began to argue with the cop. I told him I was going to die if I had to ride in the noonday sun with temps over 110 degrees, and I meant it. He wasn’t sympathetic. I was getting angrier and angrier with the cop until Top-Eye told me to ‘cool it’. Reluctantly I got on my bike and we found a side road that ran parallel to the interstate and we took that for the next half hour but I’m not sure it was paved, just dirt. When we thought the coast was clear we got back on the shoulder of Interstate 10. To hell with stupid cops, I thought.
Top-Eye and I finally got to Phoenix area after a full day of bike traveling in the sun on the highway, to a relative of Susan’s house, I think in Glendale, a suburb of Phoenix. We were so exhausted. I remember jumping into the pool and thinking I was in heaven. Susan’s relatives were nice enough to put us up for a few days and fed us like we were kings. Meanwhile (drum roll),Top-Eye and Susan’s van was on its last legs. Top-Eye sat me down and said he needed to get the van back to Connecticut asap to a mechanic that he knew. He was going to stop the cross-country trip on bikes. I thought long and hard about continuing the bike trip by myself, but after 15 minutes I knew I did not want to finish the ride by myself. A cross-country trip takes a lot of self-motivation, and after five long and hard days on the road covering 500 miles, I thought I would be better off doing the trip to the East Coast with a companion.
Top-Eye and I did spend the last day or so relaxing in Glendale. The highlight, for me, was floating down the Salt River in Phoenix in inner tubes with Sue and Top-Eye with a cooler full of beer. Nothing is better than floating down a river in the desert in the middle of summer with lots of beer. We were feeling no pain when we finished the excursion.
So, off we went. We were all in the van and headed East, towards Top-Eye’s mechanic in Connecticut. It was fun driving with Top-Eye and Sue. When we got to Colorado, we decided to do a whitewater raft trip down around Salida, CO. Man, we had a fun time! We got drenched and there were huge mountains all around us as we raced down the river. I remember Top-Eye fell asleep afterwards and Sue was driving past Denver with me in the front and suddenly late at night there were lightning storms all around us. Scary but brilliant! Sue and I were drinking Mickey beers as we raced Eastward while Top-Eye was snoring in the back. An unforgettable night!
The rest of the trip across country was kind of a blur. We got to Iowa, and Top-Eye and I looked into doing the famous ‘Ride Across Iowa’ (RAGBRAI) but we were a week too early even though we were told we could gain entry to the event.
We were heading across Iowa when I announced to Top-Eye and Sue that I wanted to bike back to Connecticut on my own. We had a few hours of discussion, but I was determined, so Top-Eye and Sue let me out in Ames, Iowa with my bike and gear. I had a few maps, and I felt the spirit of adventure. It was sad saying goodbye, but I wanted to get a few more miles in on this journey.
To make a long story short, I biked from Ames, Iowa to Bloomington, IL, around 371 miles. I was camping outside each night and after a few nights, I was feeling intense problems breathing with an extreme sore throat, perhaps due to the camping outside in the desert earlier. My bike was also experiencing some mechanical problems. I remember being in a small town in Iowa with my bike broken down on the side of the road, and a fellow stopped and asked if I needed help. He owned a bike shop in town, and he took me back in his truck and repaired my bike. He asked if I wanted to stay the night at his house, but I wanted to press on.
I remember miles and miles of cornfields. And I remember how nice and friendly all of the people were when I stopped for breakfast or lunch. One of my fondest memories is getting up in the early morning and cycling down a small road in Iowa and yelling “I’m free”, a line from the Who’s ’Tommy’ album.
By this time, my throat was raging. I could hardly breathe during the day and night. In hindsight, I should have gone to a hospital and continued on my journey after a few nights at a hospital with medicine. But I was convinced I needed to get back home to Connecticut. My journey was over.
I made it to Bloomington, Illinois and found a Greyhound bus station. I booked a ticket to Bridgeport, Connecticut. I found a bike shop where they boxed up my bike. I was tired and exhausted and my throat was a mess.
I remember traveling on the bus to Chicago, where I saw my bike, which had been packed for shipment, let on the side of the terminal bus station as we took off eastward. I ran to the front of the bus and told the bus driver to back up and put my bike back on the bus. One of my proudest moments of my life, Sprockets. A Sprocket should never let his bike out of sight.
The next two days are a blur. I got back to Bridgeport with my bike. A week or so later, Top-Eye told me that he was going to bike back to Glendale, Arizona from Bethel,Connecticut to complete the trip. With my eyes on my school calendar, I realized I didn’t have enough time to cycle back to Arizona and start the school year. So I reluctantly said ’NO’. To Top-Eye’s credit, he biked back to Arizona by himself. I’m sure he has dozens of stories about this adventure!
Many Sprockets have asked if the solo bike trip from Ames, Iowa to Bloomington, Illinois was dangerous. I made the mistake of taking back roads around Chicago, and I didn’t realize that interstate truckers were using the same back roads to avoid paying tolls. I remember that I was riding on the shoulder of the road when a large 18-wheel roared past me, creating enough wind to push me off of the shoulder and down a little gully into a cornfield. Nothing broken, but I learned to give those truckers plenty of room!
All in all, one of my biggest regrets in life is not completing the cross-country trip and going the distance. Perhaps if I had been better trained, I could have finished this undertaking. Oh, well. Like is filled with “what ifs”. Looking back, I’m happy that Top-Eye completed his trip.
And so it goes…
Pumper (March 5, 2021)