Trans Am 2017 Day 13: Rosalia, KS to Ash Grove, MO — 212 Miles, +3,165 ft

10 min readNov 7, 2017

I woke up to someone coming into the post office and was stoked when I saw the familiar smiling face of Donncha. Fucking psycho, I thought lucidly, and wondered what his sleep had been like. It was 30 minutes or so until my alarm and I told him so, and he said he’d sleep for a few then join me on the ride to Eureka for breakfast. I woke up a second time that morning to my alarm and we packed up. Apparently his plan was to nap 30 minutes every once in awhile and keep moving. Savage.

We pushed on to Eureka and he was clearly a little tired. I was glad to see that I was feeling stronger than him, and I ended up a quarter mile ahead or so when we rolled into town. It was so humid that the windows of the gas station were dripping with water, and it had clearly rained a lot the night before. I was looking forward to shooting the shit over an early coffee with one of my favorite guys on the ride, so was disappointed when he didn’t show up at the gas station despite having been just behind me.

I chatted with the attendant, who was excited to talk and learn about the race, while I waited for Donncha and ate a couple of burritos. I packed my stuff up, looking down the road for an approaching light as I did. Donncha had faded fast on our way into town, and I hoped that he hadn’t had a mechanical issue. I checked the tracker and it showed him just around the corner in the parking lot of a big outdoor store. Uh oh, he must be fixing something, I thought. It was right there, and he was a dude who had given me a lot of encouragement and support, and I knew how much it would suck to be so close to breakfast but stuck fixing something, so I microwaved a burrito, got a coffee, and headed back to deliver them to him.

Just as I pulled into the parking lot, a figure on a bike was in the middle of it pedaling towards me. I waited by the road and hollered at him to see if all was OK. He pulled up to me with this massive grin on his face. “I found some couches. They had cushions!!” I’ll never forget that line, delivered in a thick Irish accent, in the middle of a dark Kansas morning. I was cracking up when he told me that he’d peeled off the road to catch a quick nap on those comfy couches out front an outdoors store. I handed him the goodies and he scarfed them down while we headed back to the gas station. He wanted to eat more, so I said adios while he went inside.

Ken had spent the night in Eureka, and I was just out of town when he and Donncha got moving again. I stopped in the gas station at the turnoff to Toronto to fill up on some water and they had me sign their book, which was super nice. I got out of there quickly and cruised through the cool town of Toronto, but was fading quickly. I don’t know what it was, I guess just the normal morning tiredness, but by the time I got to Coyville I was pretty crushed. I had to take a number 2 and did so in the woods after town, but I was no more energized afterwards. It was a struggle to get back on my bike, and I pedaled on slowly. Not long after, I didn’t even think about it and was in the grass napping, hardly even a conscious choice.

It was the first time all race that I felt like I had given into weakness and the urge to stop for more than two minutes. I was completely, absolutely wrecked and close to tears. I was just so, so tired.

In no time I was in actual tears, and I sat there crying for a minute before deciding to nap for 45 minutes. I passed out in a second, and woke up feeling not that stellar but continuing on. Ken and Michel had passed me (I must have been a funny sight) and I lumbered forward, always close to tears. This would be the theme of the day. I wasn’t crying for any reason, just sheer exhaustion. I thought about my family while I did, and how hard I’d been pushing myself in the previous two weeks. I was also proud, and that made me cry more. I’d laugh between sobs, just to keep it light. I was in a pretty raw place but it was all good, I certainly didn’t come to the race to be cozy. I came to suffer!

I sent this pretty funny pic of me crying uncontrollably while riding to my family:

I slogged on, stopping at a gas station for water and snacks when I didn’t really need to, and finally made the last push to Chanute. I met Michel Miani for the first time in Chanute and sat with him in the gas station for a few while I crushed chicken fingers and fries. He was a nice guy but doesn’t speak much english, and I could see all over his face how hard he’d been pushing and I was uplifted by the conversation.

It didn’t last long, though, and I was in the bathroom balling my eyes out in no time. Why was I crying! Once I’d recovered, I walked out of the bathroom still a little teary and was welcomed by someone who knew my name! I laughed wondering if she knew what I’d been up to the last few minutes and was sure it was all over my face. We went out to my bike and chatted for a few minutes, and I was really grateful for the support. Seriously, people like that add so much to the race, and I was excited that she was excited.

Corina Barclay Cox

Max Lippe refueling at Chanute, KS. Enjoyed our conversation.

www.facebook.com

I kept going, somehow, though was still on the verge of tears. I watered up at a convenience store in Walnut, then had my sights set on Pittsburg. I got derailed, though, a couple miles before Girard, when I started sobbing on my bike and had to pull off into the grass. I couldn’t really fight it anymore. While my previous forays into tears had been sniffles, I sat there heaving, tears pouring down my face and unable to stop crying or to get back on my bike, for basically no reason.

I think they were in many ways tears of contentment, and I almost enjoyed crying as I smiled often, thinking about the race up to that point. My defenses were gone — there had been so much pent up stress and anxiety in the previous two weeks and preceding months, it all boiled over in my sleepy state here on the side of E 670th Ave in eastern Kansas. I thought about the past year of my life that had gone into this race, the goals I had gone into it with and how I was besting those goals, how well my sister was doing, and how lucky I was to be out there and doing that well. Considering that I was crying, it was all pretty positive.

I had worried that Kansas might break me, and in some ways it had. I was crying on the side of the road and feeling absolutely obliterated. But, I wasn’t far off my goal when I got into the state to hold my position in the race (maybe I was like 20 miles behind where I could have been) and was geared up for the last seven or eight days. I’d be back in the comfort of hills, where no one else wanted to be, and would soon only have four states left. It was clear that everyone around me was absolutely gassed, passed the point of fading and now just holding on. I marveled at what Kansas had done to people. So often people think will be easy because it is flat but misunderstand the wind and the punishing heat, along with the miles you already have in your legs by the time you get there. You continue to push yourself through low sleep, and it all catches up to you. I really don’t mind wind, but it was the heat and lack of sleep that crushed me, leading to dehydration, depleted muscles, and an empty, drained feeling. Those were the only days where I really felt my legs getting sore despite doing nothing but pushing on flats. It was the worst state for me, without a doubt. I was almost out of there, though.

This was a big moment in the race, and I get a little emotional even now thinking back to that day and that moment. It wasn’t a turning point or important in the grand scheme of things, but I was in a place that I do not often end up in, yet one that I went into the race wanting to reach. I’d hoped before the race that I would push myself to a breaking point, physically and mentally, and really test myself. And there I was, broke the fuck down.

But as I’d done all day, I got back on my bike half in tears after 30 minutes on the side of the road. I sobbed a bit going down the road but eventually got it together, and I think I had it out of my system. I stopped in Pittsburg for a quick fuel up and pedaled with relief into Missouri, where almost immediately the road finds some elevation. It’s still totally straight, but at least I was expected to pedal harder at certain points.

I called a friend and was feeling strong as I got to Golden City. I had to go a mile or so off route to get to the lone open gas station, but I hit a pretty quick stop at the Casey’s for some pizza and rolled out with an eye on Ash Grove or beyond. I desperately wanted a shower and good, cozy sleep, but Ash Grove didn’t seem to have any hotels. I called my parents to chat, and they confirmed that there was nothing in Ash Grove, and I considered a push to Marshfield where I would find plenty of comfortable beds for hire.

The road south is straight AF, and same for the road after you turn east, at least for a while. Then all the sudden it gets rowdy AF. I was chatting with friends, listening to good tunes, and having a ball grinding up the steepest hills I’d ever seen and then flying down them in the dark, hoping that the wall of a road that I saw ahead had some sort of manageable grade. It was wild, and I was sweating hard but enjoying it. I cruised through Everton and made my way into Ash Grove, feeling strong but definitely like I’d spent the day crying and sweating. I was drained and wanted a real bed and shower. I thought briefly about going on, but it was a ways to Marshfield and there were a couple other riders spending the night in Ash Grove, oddly over by a park off route and nearby each other. Weird. I pulled my bike over near some buildings and went looking for water. All the sudden I heard someone shout my name and I looked down the road. There was a car at the side of the road with its lights on, but no movement. I looked for a moment then decided I’d made it all up and misheard a dog or something. But then I heard it again, and I saw someone get out of the car. Ooo, what is this???

I rolled on up to the car and there was Mike Davis to shake my hand and say hey. What a committed dot watcher, coming out in the middle of the night, I thought. But then Mike asked my plans and I said I was considering continuing on or hitting a post office, and he told me there was a free hostel in town! Oh blessed, blessed I was. This was music to my ears, and I couldn’t thank him enough. I followed him a couple blocks off route, and realized why I’d seen the other riders bunched over here. He showed me around and told me I could take a shower, then gave me a couple PB&J’s. I tossed the frozen gas station burrito I’d planned to eat in the freezer for someone else to enjoy (actually, Amy may have eaten it a few days later cause I told her about it. I’ll have to ask.). I showered and set up to sleep on the incredibly comfortable carpet. Doug the Wrong Way Racer was there and we chatted for a second, as were Ken and Bo, both passed out in the same room. I needed sleep and allowed myself to set a later wake up time. I was showered and in the comfort of a place meant to host humans traveling by bike, content as I knocked out.

Trans Am 2017 Intro

Trans Am Day 1: Astoria, OR to McKenzie Bridge, OR

Trans Am Day 2: McKenzie Bridge, OR to Prairie City, OR

Trans Am Day 3: Prairie City, OR to Council, ID

Trans Am Day 4: Council, ID to Lochsa Lodge, ID

Trans Am Day 5: Lochsa Lodge, ID to Bannack State Park, MT

Trans Am Day 6: Bannack State Park, MT to Cameron, MT

Trans Am Day 7: Cameron, MT to Lander, WY

Trans Am Day 8: Lander, WY to Cowdrey, CO

Trans Am Day 9: Cowdrey, CO to Alma, CO

Trans Am Day 10: Alma, CO to Haswell, CO

Trans Am Day 11: Haswell, CO to Ness City, KS