Gordon Taylor from Stone is cycling across the length of the United States this summer – 3,800 miles from Seattle on the Pacific coast to Boston on the Atlantic. Here’s the third of his regular reports of his adventure, where he discovers that the kindness of strangers is truly international…
[dropcap]I[/dropcap] met a woman I’d never seen before on a bridge over the Yellowstone River in the town of Glendive. We hadn’t been chatting for more than a minute before she said “Would you like a place to stay tonight? Great… follow my car, my house isn’t far.”
I was pretty tired. I’d already ridden more than a hundred miles that day and the temperature all afternoon had been touching 30C. But within the next hour I was unpacked, showered and Joan (my new friend) had borrowed a couple of beers from her neighbour to keep me going until we went out later for a barbeque in the local State Park.
The cycle-touring community is huge, but we’re spread thinly all over the globe. Individuals, like me, or couples and small groups are moving around constantly. We pass fleetingly, perhaps just to wave… or we stop briefly to chat about routes and roads. The Internet, of course, makes it possible to keep in touch long afterwards. We follow each other across continents and countries, sharing notes about tricky visas or cheap airlines.
Before Joan had invited me to stay, she’d asked if I was in “Warmshowers”.
“Sure,” I replied, “I’m a host at home in Stone, England.”
That means that when I’m at home, a passing touring cyclist can call us and, if possible, we’ll gladly provide hospitality – food, a bed, more food, a washing machine, a bit more food and probably a beer too. We’ve had fascinating guys from China and South Korea stay with us in Stone during 2015, as well as others going north or south – one on his way to Istanbul.
So that’s how it works: brilliant reciprocal hospitality.
Joan was delighted to host me, a passing stranger, because she knew that I’d done the same for other passing strangers. It’s amazing, and lovely.
I’m in North Dakota now with nearly 1,600 miles done in 18 days. I’ve cycled into my third time zone and on these rolling plains I’m riding a distance equivalent from Stone to Milton Keynes every day. However, I’ve had to stop early on a couple of afternoons when it has been too hot. A kind police officer in the town of Glasgow, Montana was worried when I was finding it so hard to take a photo of his car with its tartan gtaphics. The temperature was close to 37C (98F). My hands were shaking and the officer told me straight that I was going no further that day and made sure I got myself into a nearby motel and cooled down with the air conditioning, and a beer.
For the past two days, I’ve been cycling (legally) on the Interstate I94. When there are no alternative roads, cyclists are allowed on what is, in effect, the motorway. I94 isn’t as busy as the M6, but the trucks are big and the traffic is fast, with a 75mph limit. To be honest, I love it. You get the hard shoulder to yourself and can just grind out the miles without any fuss. I followed a distant cyclist along the hard shoulder for ten miles today and only caught him up when he stopped for a drink in the shade under a bridge. Boyd was from Florida but we had a bizarre conversation about Stoke City Football Club as he was an avid Tottenham supporter.
So my steady progress eastwards continues. The cycling is hard at times but the people I meet are so interesting and so kind that it’s wonderful. Talking to strangers and going home with people you meet on the Internet isn’t the usual formula for a successful holiday, but it works for me.
