JUNE 25th:
"Good Morning everyone from Nevada. We apologize again to all that keep close tabs on us. Unfortunately towns are few and far between so saving phone battery is essential and we haven't seen a computer in weeks. We assure you that we have plenty of stories and pictures to tell of our journeys through Utah and Nevada. We will be in California in two very long days at my mother's cousin Connie's house in Lake Tahoe. We will hopefully get caught up there. We are on our home stretch and pushing forward with the last bit of energy we have left. Thanks again and check back soon." -Scott

JUNE 20th:
"After leaving the Glenwood Springs Hostel we hopped on I-70. The Interstate was surprisingly beautiful. We watched as the mountains turned from red cliffs to rounded tan mounds. The canyon we were in protected us from the rain clouds all day. Around seven we decided to eat at a small Mexican restaurant. It was fantastic! The plates were huge, we both had trouble finishing our meals. By the time we were done we needed to find a place to camp. The best looking spot was about ten miles away behind a hill shaded by small brush-trees. The morning came all too soon and it was once again time to ride. Stopping in a town to re-stock our food supply, we got some last minute directions to the border. By nightfall we made it across to Utah. Once again Scotty and I had the camp-if-you-dare situation on the side of the interstate. After seeing some wild-big spiders, the tent was set and sleeping bags rolled out. As we were eating some fruit and trailmix a car slammed on it's brakes near our camp. Scott's head poked up, alerted to possible danger. After watching the car in silence for a few minutes we realized that the occupants just wanted a picture of the "Welcome to Utah" sign. Only after they drove away did we laugh at how ape-like we get when we think something is going to mess with us. We went back to eating our trail mix. Not five minutes later a big-rig slams on it's brakes. A man gets out and yells into the darkness "anyone out there?!?" Neither of us said a word, we just grabbed the mace. The truck backed up more and shined it's lights right on our tent. The driver got out again and we overheard him talking to what sounded like the police. When we got out to talk to him he explained to us that he thought there was some sort of accident and drove away. So we were finally about to go to sleep when the wind starts ripping through the tent. The night just wasn't getting any easier. We awoke to a cool morning. We took a picture of the Utah sign and ate a whole boat-load of oatmeal. By the time we got to a motel room for the night to escape the rain, we realized that our planned route through Nevada was not going to work. On route 50 there are 17 mountain passes and only 4 towns for something like 450 miles. So we've been hiking up north to a frontage road of I-80. Right now we are in a small suburb of Salt Lake City. The ride here was quite interesting. We rode on a road that had construction on it for more than 30 miles and more interestingly we saw a real life police chase. It was crazy! It seemed like it was a slow speed chase but we might have been really far away. So now we are waiting for the rain to slow down so we can head west once again. Wish us luck and please donate if you haven't already done so. Any small amount will help these precious kids get the care they need." -Sam

JUNE 15th:
"Sam and I left the Bell's house late in the afternoon. It was tough to leave the comfort of their relaxing home, after getting caught up writting our blog for a few hours and eating lunch we didn't get rolling untill 6pm. Just outside their driveway observing a dark lightning storm coming through, we asked ourselves what we were thinking about to attempt a 90 mile ride through the mountains at night. We made our way down to a Safeway grocery store and sat for a few hours staying dry and scouting places to stay for the night. We thought we'd get more done if we just woke early and rode out. We got a tip from a local about a very cheap hostle four blocks down. When we walked through the doors the vibe of the place stuck out like a sore thumb. There was no doubt a collection a free spirited individuals over the years gave this hostle its hippy type enviornment. Native dream catchers and tapestries hung from the walls and floor cusions and pillows decorating the floor. I instantly made friends with a kid named Ryan who was traveling from Georgia to Utah with his girlfriend for some photography. We made plans to meet back up to camp in Moab, Utah. Through the kitchen I walked out back to the Florida room to find an awesome mix of people from around the globe hanging out outside and in. There was Aldon, from Texas up here to go to a bicycle frame building workshop. Alfa from West Africa here in the US traveling for the last nine years. The three of us all started a jam session for everyone with Aldon on guitar, Alfa on harmonica & me tapping a seat for a drum, and we all sang. Next I met my favorite guys of the trip. There was a group of 5 young men and women here from Serbia and a mother and daughter from Germany. The Serbians were Branko, Jovana, Natasa and my two favorite guys Dusan and Danijel. Sam got to spend the early part of the night catching up with his lady back home on the phone while me, Alfa, Aldon, Dusan, and Danijel hung out tasting a plum wine Dusan's grandfather made back in Serbia. I had the most memorable night mingling with the foreigners and Aldon exchanging cultural ideals and beliefs. The 5 from Serbia will be spending a few more weeks in Glenwood Springs working to save up some money to travel more of the US before they head back home. They plan to hit Chicago, Niagra Falls, Boston then someplace south. We exchanged numbers, facebook and email as I gave them the offer to stay at my place when they drive through Ohio. We all hit the sack after a sad goodbye to wake for an early checkout time of 10am. Sam and I just stepped out the door and are headed for Grand Junction once again." - Scott

JUNE 14th:
"The morning after our night in the hostel we packed up, said goodbye to new friends and set out over the Vail Pass through a chilly morning. We grabbed a quick bite to eat after 10 miles and continued to the mountain. A nice bike path lead us up gradually along side of a river, once again the elevation made each pedal harder than the last. Things leveled out a bit giving us hope that we might have made the pass already when suddenly more snow capped mountains appeared in the distance. We stopped, traded the trailer, stretched and carried on. We were now undoubtedly in ski country. Enormous lodges and secondary mansions decorated the hills, paired with golf courses and snowless ski trails. Occasionally walking, we eventually made it to the Summit of Vail Pass. We stopped and asked for directions to see how far we where from the top when a man replied, 'Your at the top! You're gonna move like a bandit down to Vail now boys!' And he wasn't kidding. We got directions to a bike path from a couple of guys hiking their way up to a bachelor party in a lodge at the top of the mountain. As we coasted down to the path I pulled out my video camera and started to film. Pulling the trailer with one hand on the handle bars and one on the camera the road began to plummet. Within 5 miles of the downhill plunge Sam's right front break snapped and shot off grazing his leg, at the same time he noticed a rear spoke had also snapped. Making the best of the situation he remounted the bike and we carried on. We flew downhill reaching speeds as high as 41mph for almost an hour; weaving in and out of the forest. Finally in Vail I stopped to call my buddy Nate. 'Oh, your in East Vail Scotty, I'm 12 miles from West Vail, you still got about a 45 minute ride ahead of you' he said. So freezing from the cold temperature and high winds we bundled up a bit, tuned up Sammy's rear rim and continued through Vail. It was now dark making it hard to see a lot of the buildings and houses but there was no doubt from the ones we did see that we were in a wealthy area. Around midnight we met up with Nate and his lovely girlfriend, Megan and headed back to his place. By the way, even Wendy's is more expensive in the Vail area, mine and Sammy's meal came to 20 bucks which Nate picked up. Back at the apartment Nate and I got to catch up. He attended The University of South Florida and did an internship at a golf course supervising maintenance work in Edwards, Colorado. When he graduated the course hired him for the job. It is so good to see that he is now relocated in one of the most beautiful places in the country, in the beginning of a successful career. He also has a nice truck, an awesome old vintage Ghostbusters jeep and a motorcycle. But that's not all the fun he has. In the morning Nate wakes me with a 7am offer to go paragliding off a mountain. I sat and entertained the idea for a while, terrified of heights but on the journey of a lifetime I saw it almost mandatory for me to accept. I said goodbye to Megan and Sam stayed back and slept while Nate and I headed a mile down the rode in the Ghostbusters jeep to meet with the para-gliders. I met Dave, who I was going to be flying tandem with, and without a moment to hesitate we piled into his van and headed for the mountain top. With a few directions and signing my life away on the ride up I got the basic scoop on what to do. At the top Nate gave me the word on how thermals and other wind gusts work. One guy jumped before Dave and I giving me the opportunity to see how it's done. You literally run off a mountain hoping the parachute opens to lift you. 'Ready?' asked Dave, 'I guess' I replied. '3, 2, 1... RUN!' We ran towards the edge of the hill and the chute opened and took a quick dive at the ground making attempt one a failure. While readjusting the chute another gentleman jumped. Soon after we were set back up. Nate stood and watched as Dave counted again. This time I had pulled my video camera out to get the take off and ride on film. '3, 2, 1!' We ran hard towards the edge when suddenly my strides were barely touching the ground. Instantly we soared off into the air. Off in the distance I saw the snowy mountains and tiny cars below. We swooped in and out through the crevasse of the mountains which made my stomach drop a little. 'You see that little white flag down there? Dave said while steering the chute. 'Ya' 'Well that's where we land, start running when we come to the ground.' 'Okay' I replied. We whipped right over a large river and u-turned right into our landing. The ground came fast and as I stood the back of my helmet nailed Dave's chin. Happy to be safe on the ground I apologized to Dave and waited for Nate to bring the car back down the mountain. He talked a while with the paragliders about getting his own chute before we headed back to get Sam. As we entered the apartment I shouted 'SAM I JUST FLEW!!' Waking him from a dead sleep. We all gathered in the Ghost-mobile which Sam was dying to ride in, and went to breakfast. Nothing like falling out of the sky before your first meal of the day. After the meal we headed to a bike store to fix Sam's spoke where we both grabbed new handlebar extensions to make for an easier ride. Nate then took us on a tour of Vail to see where he worked and all the nice houses. At the top of another peak we all took a few pictures together before we headed back to his place. There he helped Sam and I fix up the bikes a little and put the new handlebars on. After our goodbye, we took off at a late 5pm for a 55 mile ride to Glenwood Springs, CO. My mothers long time friend and co-worker Cindy Bell's husband Beau has a brother there. Beau and Cindy have been supportive of us through the trip including taking donations for us at the Cali For Kids Benefit Show. They were also kind enough to make the call for us to Beau's brother to ask if it'd be alright for us to come through for the night. On the way down to Glenwood Springs I once again let the camera roll as we coasted through Glenwood Canyon. We rode through the I-70 corridor on a bike path just below the freeway. To our left the river rapids roared occasionally spilling onto our pathway. The faces of the canyon walls towered thousands of feet into the sky. Dark came just before we enter Glenwood Springs. We met with Fred who escorted us back to his place a few miles down the road. He and his wife Deneen have a gorgeous home hidden in the mountains of west Colorado. Sam offered to let me have the bed in the spare room this time while he took the couch. In the morning I met Deneen while Fred cooked Sam and I two amazing omelets. We spent all afternoon waiting for the weather to clear and repacking. We are about to take off on a 90 mile day to Grand Junction, CO. Thank you Nate Jordan for the experience of a lifetime and for the safety and comfort of your home, it has been wonderful reacquainting with you. And thank you to Beau, Cindy, and especially Fred and Deneen for the TWO meals, showers, beds, all the hospitality and the pleasure of being in the environment of such a loving family." - Scott

JUNE 12th:
"Before I begin the blog I need to mention a few things: I want to apologize to everyone that keeps close tabs on us. A sequence of events, including a half-time break in Denver, has set us back more than either of us expected. Theres an overwhelming feeling of gratitude I can't seem to find the words to describe for everyones support. I know it sounds corny and typical but I never would've thought such a moment in the events of our lives could have inspired so many others. To know that friends and strangers believe and generate interest in a mere idea of ours gives us the second wind to push that extra mile. Second I want to thank Vince Valerio, he's the guy behind the scenes making everything happen for us. A Youngstown native currently making his own way in Baltimore. I contact Vince almost everyday via phone call, email, or text message to send him the latest blog updates and photos. He not only designed all the artwork and the amazing site you're viewing right now, he always finds time to update anything I send him daily. He is a remarkably talented artist and very close friend, please check out what he has to offer at http://web.mac.com/vincentvalerio1. His most recent magic was creating a Pledgie account for us. A man by the name of Joe Anthony, also a Youngstown native currently leading a successful media marketing career in LA, contacted our Califorkids email to give us a few tips on our Internet marketing. I hooked him up with Vince and we can now officially receive donations directly from the website (a link that you can find on our home page).
Okay soooooooooooooo... We are currently in a hostel about 5 miles on the other side of the continental divide in a town called Silverthorne, CO. But we'll get to that. The last place we left off was Wray, CO. After the day off, escaping the ugly weather, Sam and I coasted 50 miles into yet another storm that forced us off the road in a town, coincidentally, called Akron. Cutting us short of our target of Fort Morgan by about 30 miles, we were left with a 110 mile day to Denver. We rose the next morning to a fair weathered day prepared to head towards the mile high city. So far of all the states east of Colorado turned out to be the flattest. We pedaled and pedaled searching for a glimpse of the notorious mountain range off in the western horizon. Before we stopped for lunch we were flagged down by another cyclist by the name of Walentine (I'm sure I butchered that). This incredibly skinny and kind man from Switzerland flew with his lightly packed bicycle into San Francisco. Now I mean light, when he took a glimpse at all of our gear and we told him it was our first tour he couldn't help but laugh a little. He was was headed for New York City from San Fran in 30 days! With remarks like 'Ooo your rocky mountains are easy ya!?' we were certain he'd make it. We exchanged emails and a few pictures and parted ways. After lunch we rode a few miles and spotted a police officer and approached him for directions into Denver. He informed us that it is legal in most parts of the state for bicycles to ride on the interstate. So for the first time in our lives we got on an on-ramp onto I-70 where the speed limit is actually 75mph. The clouds where thick but scattered, all we had was 70 miles to go so with our rain gear prepared we carried on into the wind. Soon the mountains appeared in the distance like a spiked wall against the blue-orange sky. As we pedaled they grew more detailed revealing the conquest we had in store. Soon enough we arrived in Denver to Sam's brother's place, a house church where he resides with four other guys and anyone who needs a roof. The house church is in a nice little neighborhood two miles from downtown with an open park field and public pool across the street. Alex, Sam's brother, wasn't home at the time. He recently moved in with these guys a week ago and received an opportunity to go camping in the canyon lands of Utah. He wasn't to return for another day. Nevertheless his roommates made us feel right at home. There were 5 living in the house: Ryan, Jason, Andy, Micah, and Alex. Ryan and Jason showed us to the rooms we'd call home for the next few days. Sam stayed in his brothers room and I was given Micah's room who was currently in Africa performing some missionary work with his girlfriend. Ryan, Andy, and Jason had built rooms with wooden bunk beds and a tiny bathroom in the basement for themselves to make for a more comfortable living space for all those who might happen to pass through their house. They informed us that everything in the pantry and fridge that was unmarked was free-game, we had our own bathroom, and were free to wash our clothes. Soon after settling in around midnight Jason pulled out an LED-lit frisbee and offered a little toss-around in the field across the street. After getting our frizz-fix we headed back to the house where Jason, the beer connoisseur, fixed me up with one of his favorites before we all hit the sack. The following day Ryan had organized an ultimate frisbee game that was to take place around 2pm. In the meantime, Sam took advantage of the kitchen and unusual amount of onions these guys had. He began to make his first ever batch of French Onion soup when a knock came on the door. I answered, 'Alex!' 'Scotty!' he replied. Sam's brother entered and introduced his camping friends then greeted his brother with a large hug. After getting situated we informed him of the frisbee game about to take place. As we suited up and Sam put the delicious smelling soup on simmer, Alex asked me if I'd like to go to the rec center to work out after the game. All the kids from the neighborhood gathered, young and not so young. Ryan, the born leader, informed all the young ones of the rules and divided the teams evenly as we played one of the most fun games I'd ever played. In between games Sam and I found two drums in the house and got a little drum circle on. House church friends like Dacia, Sky, and Anne Marie joined in to sing over the beat. We've got a frisbee crew back home that gathers every thursday and sunday at Bears Den in Mill Creek Park for a few games every week and I have missed it terribly. MISS YOU BOYS! (actually we recently got word that a few of the guys got together and donated $60 to our cause,). So after the game Alex and I went to work out and took the bikes to the supermarket to pick up some veggies and ice cream. When we returned we gave the purchases to Sam. He put the loafs of bread in the oven, cut up the squash, asparagus, peppers and onions, tossed them in olive oil and lemon juice and threw everything on the grill outside.. After enjoying the delicious meal Sam and I took off to the nearest Starbucks where we met two ladies, Bridgette and Allison. Because of our journey they donated all the food on the display rack to us. We then made Allison sing some Opera (she just got her masters degree in Opera Performance) for us before we took off and we spent the rest of the night watching Andy's enormous TV and relaxing. The following day our new friend Dacia took Sam and I down to Boulder, CO. She took us to the strip called Pearl St. where she set up an easel to paint on along with a few other finished paintings she hoped to sell. Sam and I set up next to her with two guitars and two Djembe's (bongo drums more-or-less) and began to play for the public. We made few dollars in tips before we packed up to check out the strip. Right underneath the mountains with a treasured natural landscape, Boulder is truly one of the most beautiful and peaceful places we'll encounter on our journey. The next morning I woke anticipating a journey to Red Rocks Amphitheater that Dacia and our new friend Tara promised to take me too. When it came time to leave Sam decided he wanted to stay back at the house to relax. When we arrived and began to walk around at my first actual experience of the Rocky Mountains I could hardly believe my eyes. The boulders looked like they'd been snapped in half left sticking straight up into the air. The park left the theater wide open to the public giving everyone the opportunity to roam around on the bleachers or walk the stage. I took complete advantage of this and got to stand and look out towards the stands in the same place my favorite musicians have. When we gathered back up to head home, we stopped and Dacia treated us at the best Mexican restaurant. At the end of the night, everyone in the neighborhood connected with the house church came over the house all bringing a dish. We had a big meal and afterwards we were invited to sit through their weekly service they hold in their living room after dinner. Not accustomed to this sort of thing, Sam and I sat quietly observing and taking in their worship of friendship and of God. They took turns going around the room describing recent emotions and feelings to bring them out in the open, they even encouraged Sam and I do so. After the service was finished we felt surprisingly rather refreshed, having put our journey thus far into somewhat of a perspective. A few of us including Alex and Dacia then went out for a night on the town, where I got to get a little break from the country and experience the night life in Denver. When time came for us to take off, a bunch of the neighborhood kids like Miguel, Frederico, and Jose all came over to say goodbye. We packed up our things, thanked Ryan, Andy, and Jason for the hospitality and rode on with Alex as our escort. He rode some 15 miles with us towards the mountains when we stopped for lunch at a......CHINESE BUFFET, we ate and said our goodbye's. Alex headed east back to the house and once again Sam and I were headed west. We coasted downhill towards the mountains enjoying the free ride for the last time in, most assuredly, a while. As we entered what Colorado locals call 'the foothills', we were in utter amazement at the size of the hills. As the mountain air began to kick in and and the landscape changed from slightly downhill to slightly uphill, we were reminded very quickly how much weight we had been hauling and that we truly were a 'mile high'! Rocks and dirt changed from brown to red, grass changed to pines and moss, streams to rivers, rocks to boulders, suddenly the beauty had reminded us this is what we had been anticipating and planning for a year. But it came with a price. With every pedal the air became thinner and the ground became steeper. We'd stop every so often to switch the trailer and catch an entertaining glimpse of extreme rock climbing teams. Eventually we entered a town called Idaho springs for dinner at a high 8,000 ft. During our meal it began to pour, ruining our plans to camp. Normally the rain is no problem if we plan to camp, but in the cold mountain air its a bit of a different story. However the nice part about Colorado is that a third of all the land is public land, making it legal to camp almost anywhere in the mountain area. We met a wonderful lady at the Tops Motel who gave us a discount on the room, we fell fast asleep. The following day we spent a lot of time rustling with banks and web site hosts at a small diner. Getting a move on around 1pm we pushed 18 miles towards a trail entrance that we were certain would take us across the continental divide. For those of you unfamiliar with the continental divide (as we were) it is the highest point in North America where waterways split and one side feeds into the Atlantic and the other into the Pacific. The pass we were attempting to cross was called Loveland Pass. We continued on into the trail, which we were told by locals was paved but was not. The incline and muddy terrain made it near impossible to cycle so we dismounted our bikes and began to hike. We passed 9,000ft by this point and the air was forever thinning. We couldn't get more than a quarter mile without stopping for a breath. We stopped switching the trailer and started switching bikes due to the short intervals we were able to push the trailer each. For a moment we stopped and encompassed the incredible view we climbed so high to view. Off in the distance the sunlight shone bright on a smaller mountain, off to the left a cloud cut off the top of another, and to the west were a few snow covered peaks that were apparently the Loveland Pass. We hiked a good 8 to 10 miles into a few snow patches and even thinner air until 8pm rolled around and it was time to set up camp, FAST. The mountains here cut off the sunlight much earlier than they did in Denver. Sam stayed up top of another trail we had spotted while I went to scope for a camp site. I shouted to the top 'SAMMY!' He came rolling down the hill with the trailer and over a bridge that mounted a large cold river. I had found a wide open space with plenty of dead wood around to create a fire. Instantly we took roles, Sam set up the tent and built an immaculate fire surrounded by big rocks while I set up the stove and prepared dinner. As soon as the sun had dropped Sam's fire was roaring giving us enough light to sling all the foods in a garbage bag on the bridge over the river well away from our tent in case of a mountain lion or bear. On our way back from the bridge to the tent Sam saw a set of eyes in the woods. We both started going completely ape. I started yelling and barking while Sam made some wild primate noises and started to blindly throw rocks into the woods. After calming down, we crawled into our sleeping bags full and warm from the fire and attempted to fall asleep at 10,000 ft. Through the night we both tossed and turned, finding it hard to breath and hard to stay warm. It grew colder by the second and by morning there was ice and snow on the tent and bikes. I rose before Sam and noticed that a snow storm had come through and covered all the mountain tops that surrounded us. Almost unable to move because of the stirring cold, I quickly created a fire to get my blood pumping and so Sam could wake to warmth. Sam woke just after I got it lit and we spent the morning packing slowly and staying close the fire. The afternoon brought warmth but not for long. As soon as we had everything packed, we pulled out our water purifier for the first time and hiked without the bikes up the mountain to the nearest stream. When we reached one, sat down and began to pump the freshest mountain water I'd ever tasted it started to rain. 'AND SNOW!' shouted Sam. I looked up to find the first June snow I'd ever seen, thick flakes covering the ground rapidly. We filled as quickly as possible and hiked back down to the bikes. A few hikers told us the path we were on headed nowhere, so we're forced to find another that led us back down to the interstate.. When we reached it we rode up to a ski resort 3 miles up the road 10,800 ft up. We were just a mile from the Loveland Pass tunnel when we where informed that bicycles where not allowed in. Instead we had to take a 15 mile detour route that went up to 12,500 ft. We basically collapsed on a bench at the ski resort, with barely any battery left in any electronic device when a man by the name of CB approached. 'Where you guys from?' he asked. 'Youngstown, Ohio' we replied. 'No kidding, I grew up in Mansfield.' After we told him of our journey and he recognized our exhaustion he offered us a ride through mile tunnel. Almost unable to move as a result of the thin air, we gladly accepted. He asked one thing in return, that we speak to his youth ski team about our journey first. We met him at a lodge down the street where he gave us a chance to warm up. He then showed us into a room full with almost 30 skiers ranging from 9 years old to those in their 40's. We told everyone of our journey and answered questions for about ten minutes. It was nice to be appreciated, especially by those who ski in June. CB then gave us a lift through the tunnel into the town called Silverthorne. We were directed to a youth hostel by an awesome young guy named Adam who was working his last day at a deli called Smiling Moose. After we went and got settled in because of the snow storm, we headed back up to the deli for a bite to eat while our clothes washed at the hostel. Adam threw us 2 free cookies, 2 free drinks, and 2 free soups for our efforts. He was the coolest guy to talk to. Also from the midwest, he appreciated the Rockies as much as we did. Back at the hostel we noticed a stacked touring bicycle and sleeping pad. It belonged to another cyclist by the name of Kyle Unruh. He is 21 years old and cycling solo from Ithica, NY to his hometown in the state of Washington. We also met a cool kid bunking next to us named Casey. He gave us a few things that he could spare, like an extra glow stick for light, toothpaste and a pair of waterproof pants. Steve the owner was a very cool guy. He let us shower up and wash the clothes before we even ran to an ATM to pay him. The hostel has a gorgeous downstairs with two beautiful kitchens and two cozy living rooms. It was 3 floors and fits a capacity of 93 people. At the moment, we just got done watching one of the Lakers vs Magic finals games and are now hanging out with a few other late nighters here at the hostel. We're gonna get some rest tonight an hopefully make it up and over the last pass we'll have to make in the mountains, Vail Pass. I have an old friend from high school, Nate Jordan, who resides there now anticipating our arrival with a warm place to stay. Sorry for the delay, goodnight, thank you, and we love you." - Scotty

JUNE 3rd:
"Sam and I both wake around 10, early enough to pack up and get a move on before check out time. Unfortunately the lightning we were attempting to avoid never came through but nevertheless it was comforting to not have to set up metal tent poles in such a storm. Just before we were ready to go we recognize we're missing the trailer clip Sam mentioned. He had a brilliant idea to use a wheel spoke as a replacement clip. So while he looked outside for the old one I bent a broken spoke of mine into an exact replica of the old clip, and it works perfect. So after that minor setback and updating the daily blog we got a move on at a late 3:30PM. It started as a beautiful day but we had anticipated a spontaneous storm or two, for the weather channel informed us the only severe activity in the US was in southwest Nebraska and east Colorado. We coasted 30 miles to a town called Haigler for a quick break and a stretch. Absolutely refusing to spend another night in Nebraska, we had 40 miles to go before the first town in Colorado called Wray. By the time we got back on the bikes an enormous black storm cloud had brewed up left (south) of us, and another less severe one to our right. 5 miles in they both were firing faint bursts of lightning, so we stepped it up pushing as hard as we could to average 17MPH. The sun was dropping fast and as the storms closed in on us, one covered the sun cutting our hours of daylight. Sam wasn't kidding when he described these storms, the lightning is about 5 times more frequent and the clouds travel much faster, before you know it a storm can be right on top of you. Nearly exhausted from all the hustling, a silhouette of a large wooden sign appeared. As we neared it the letters revealed ''Welcome to Colorful Colorado.'' We made it! After marveling at the idea of how far we've riden and taking a few pictures the fiery storm reminded us we still had 15 miles to go. We saddled up and continued into the scariest weather I'd ever seen. The storms had officially collided and lightning fired all around us just about every second. Remarkably it had not rained yet but just as we approached another sign that informed us we had 7 miles to go to Wray, the wind began. What was once a windless afternoon suddenly became gusts up to 30Mph at times bringing us to a hault. Small city lights in the distance gave us enough hope to push through what looked like a receipe for a tornado. ''Do you wanna call the police!?!'' I shouted to Sam. He immediately pulled out his phone and called 911. They informed us they didn't have anything they could put the bikes in, but they would pick us up, Sam refused. They then informed us the funnel clouds were north of us and we should make it if we kept riding. They sent a cruiser our way to check on us, when he found us I yelled, ''HOW FAR TO THE NEAREST MOTEL?!'', ''JUST 2 BLOCKS!'' he yelled back. And just as we were ready to collapse a large yellow sign reading 'Butte Motel' appeared over the ridge. Relieved we slowed our pace and approached the driveway as it began to pour, we'd beaten the rain. The police officer was waiting for us there to make sure we'd made it. After settling in our cozy Colorado room we walked to the 711 gas station for a bite to eat. As we were leaving the cold rain picked back up giving us the opportunity for our first hitch-hike. A Spanish couple in a minivan that apparently did not speak English gave us a lift 4 blocks back to the motel. Exhausted we fell fast asleep only to wake to a 45 degree day with a 90 percent chance of rain all day and large winds. We made the decision to stay another night to avoid getting sick. Tomorrow we're heading 86 miles to Fort Morgan, CO and thursday another 80 into the much anticipated Denver, CO. 3,500 ft up we are safe for the night, thank you and stay tuned." - Scott

JUNE 1st:
"After leaving McCook and the Larson family, we headed to the store to pick up some food for the ride ahead. We bought a few cans of beans, some sardines, and a bag of brown rice. We stretched and started west. About eight miles down the road I heard a crash and thud and looked back to see Scott hugging the ground. I quickly turned around to divert traffic and ask if he was okay. He had the right idea about putting his gloves down first as they absorbed the most shock. His elbow got a little scraped but his knee was the main worry. He was limping and said most of the pain was in the surrounding muscle, not the kneecap itself. Just as he was walking off his fall a sheriff pulled up. Before he can say a word we rattle off the things we say to most motorists who stop: we're fine, he fell, thank you for stopping though. The sheriff nodded his head and then looked at us and said, "one of you boys lose a wallet at the store?". We check our bags, Scott says "yea,I guess I did". Following this news we tried to hitch hike back a couple miles which failed. Finally realizing we were just wasting time we saddled and rode all the way back. Scott got his wallet back from the customer service ladies who apparently called all the business cards in his wallet from Youngstown and the local sheriff and police back home. By this time it was dark and we could see lightning in every direction. We suited up for rain. Only a couple drops actually hit us. We noticed that we were shooting the gap between two large thunderstorms. This was definitely not an Ohio storm, lightning was constantly firing to the south and north, and what clouds the storm illuminated looked all too ominous to ride through. After another mile or two we noticed a large thunderhead to the south moving in quick. We got to a town called Culbertson and stopped at a closed gas station. I told Scott I wasn't going to ride in a storm at night. We both took our phones out but I beat him to the number. So I called the local sheriff dispatch and talked to a nice lady named Marie. I was short but polite when I said I knew that the sheriff had a truck and that we did not feel safe riding at night in this weather and we need a ride to a motel in Trenton. She took my name and number and said that she'd find a way. Not two minutes later we got a call saying someone would be there in about fifteen minutes and to sit tight. Instantly our mood lifted. Sooner than expected the same sheriff that told Scott about his wallet pulled up and said " you guys just aren't having a good day, are you?" We loaded the bikes and he woke the motel clerk to alert her we were coming. It was like being a little kid in the truck with all the gear and 10-4s going back and forth in the radio. He joked about putting the lights and sirens on. We found out his name was Chief Deputy Ron Dougherty. When we got to the motel I got out to unload the bikes and Scott went to check in. I have the BOB out and am about to take the first bike when Scott comes out of the office puzzled and angry. He lost his wallet again. We unloaded the other bike and I went to pay. Chief Deputy Ron went back to look for Scotty's wallet at the gas station ten miles back. We couldn't believe the night we were having. Next thing we know we see the sheriff pull up with a water-proof bag in his hand with Scott's wallet and phone inside. We couldn't be more thankful for all the help the Sheriffs department gave us. This morning we woke and started to get packed. Scott ran to get some ice for his knee and breakfast of trailmix and coffee. I took the time to call my lady back home and watch the weather channel. Turns out we are in the only spot slated for possible severe weather in the U.S. Lucky. Packing up the bikes we noticed there was only one BOB pin( the piece that attaches the trailer to our bike). This has happened before in Illinois, so we looked and looked and finally decided to zip tie it to the next town. Then I had the idea to use my mirror which is a recycled bike spoke. Scott had broken a spoke yesterday when he fell so we used that. It was a perfect fit. So now hopefully we are going to make it to Colorado before dark and check the weather to see if a motel is a better idea than a tent. Wish us luck!" -Sam

MAY 31st:
"Sam and I leave the Mexican Diner after refueling on some more rice and beans. It was very hot, but low humidity, making for a very tolerable ride. We coasted out of town into the plains and over a few hills when Sam suddenly stops to check the pressure on his rear tire. It wasn't flat but there was definitely a slow leak. He stops to pump it up with our hand held pump until I offered to jump in and give him a break. Of course I tug on it too hard and end up popping the tire completely. A little more than halfway across Nebraska isn't a bad spot to have your first flat. I popped one in training back in April so that makes us even at 1 to 1. So Sam pulls the tire and tube off the rim, replaces the tube and begins to pump when we hear another slow leak in the new tire. He pulls the tire and tube off AGAIN, replaces the tire and pumps 110 pounds of pressure back into the tire. We must have spent 2 hours on the side of the road fixing our first major bike malfunction. We carry on into the windless afternoon trading the trailer only once. We make it 33 miles into a small town called Arapahoe to grab some Gatorade and cooked MORE beans and rice on our stove in the back of the gas station. We strapped the small mess kit, in which we cooked the rice, to the back of my bike to have a quick bite to eat when we got hungry down the road. After gearing up with our night time riding lights, we took off again around 9pm to trek another 37 miles to our final destination of McCook, NE. 2 miles down the road a maroon Buick LaSabre whips around us, pulls to the side of the road and slams the car in park. A man standing about 6 feet tall exits the car and walks right toward us. Sam reaches for his mace can, I reach for my knife as we approached the man in the shadows. 20 feet from the man I see the Pony league baseball t-shirt we saw on the man that bought our diner the night before. 'Greg!' I shouted as I came to a stop next to him releasing the grip from my knife. Sam stops right behind me as we shake the hands of our newest Nebraska friend. 'Where you headed tonight?' he asks. We told him we where going into McCook and he said, 'Well you guys are going to stay with me tonight, how long 'till you get there?' We said it'd be about 3 hours but we would try to hurry. Before he left he kindly offered to take some of our stuff to lighten our load, but we refused. Only stopping once to eat the rice and beans we packed and to trade the trailer, we made it to McCook in a quick 2.5 hours. Greg met us on the street somewhere in town and we followed him back to his house. We walked inside to meet his 18 year old son Austin before they showed us downstairs. There was an air mattress already laid out with pillows a sheet and a comforter, and a bedroom with a bed. 'DIBS!' Sam shouted. Greg then showed us to the bathroom where they had set out two towels and wash rags. We had attempted to watch the enormous television hung on the wall but didn't last long before we passed out. This morning when we woke the Larson's invited us to a church picnic that goes on only once a year.. We made it to the park to meet Greg's wife Cindy and a lot of other wonderful people, and ate a lot of delicious homemade food and desserts. Now after checking the weather and writing this blog on their laptop, it appears that we have a nasty couple of days ahead of us with thunderstorms beginning tomorrow and lasting through Friday. We plan to ride through the night tonight before the storm hits to make it about 116 miles into Colorado into a town called Wray. Thank you to the Larson's for all the hospitality and comfort, especially for packing us full with sandwiches, crackers, granola bars, and twizzlers!" -Scott

MAY 30th:
"Sam and I depart around noon from the motel. We work our way through Lincoln grabbing essentials and parts to fix Sam's bike. After having another feast at a buffet, a professor from the University of Nebraska, who happened to sit next to us, directed us to a bike shop and outdoor store just down the street. We make our way over to a place called Cycle Works and Moose's Tooth. The kids working there were very cool. The one gave us a friends number that bikes a lot in Denver, the other gave us free T-shirts. When we left there to finally get on the road, after the shop fixed up Sam's bike, we passed through the university just to say we've been there. With a very very late start, but tuned up, we made our way 25 miles into the cold night before we forfeited. We wanted to put in a 70 mile day but decided our health and rest was more important, so we stopped at the nearest town called Milford. We called the police for advice on a place to stay for the night and they sent over a man by the name of Officer Hull. He led us down to their park and told us he had unlocked the bathroom in case we needed to use it in the morning. He stayed to chat for about an hour talking Harley's and Camping. He gave us a last bit of advice on the Nebraska landscape before he left. We then set up camp and passed out for much needed rest. The following morning I woke first and instantly prepared coffee. After Sam woke I got out a bit of groceries we'd packed and made a big breakfast that included hot coffee, baked potatoes, and a raspberry vinaigrette salad with broccoli, cucumbers, and apples. Well fed we carried on across the last bit of hills and into the wonderful flat lands. It was a long rather boring ride all the way to a town called Hastings. We entered the nearest gas station and asked the guy behind the counter if there might be a Walmart and a place to camp, he told us we had about a ten mile ride ahead of us and without hesitation offered to let us use his truck! He ran out and put the keys in the ignition all before we even knew his name. I hopped in the drivers seat and we took off towards the Walmart to buy some groceries and a few other things. When we returned and gave the guy back his keys, he told us his name was Nick and to just set up the tent infront of the gas station. He then gave us two keys to the shower rooms and told us they were on him, what should have cost us $10 a piece. Suspicious about our strange camping location, we set up shop right underneath their sign 10 feet from the highway. Sam prepared a ground turkey, onion, fiesta cheese and rice stew and Nick came over to sit and watch us eat what he thought to be a rather disgusting meal. The nice part about the whole thing, had we needed anything during the night there was a 24 hour gas station within 25 feet of us. We laid out the sleeping bags, grabbed some ear plugs and were lights out in a matter of seconds." - Scott

"We awoke the next morning to a beating sun and truck traffic. Imagine waking up in front of a gas station/truck-stop on the outskirts of the main drag of a city with 12,000 people... We couldn't help but feel like hobos. It was free and relatively safe which always outweighs the perceptions of passing strangers. Luckily we planted camp a hundred yards from a breakfast diner called the Goldenrod Cafe. Soon after ordering the whole bike story came out. This attracted the attention of one Sam Bosle, an ambitious and personable ten year old who will probably grow up to be the president. His mother and owner of the cafe, Nancy, was also kind enough to give us directions. After eating, packing up camp, and refilling our water( our three basic activities besides riding) we hit route 6 to Holdredge. We tried switching the trailer every ten or so miles to avoid burning out our legs. A couple hours down the road we spotted a fellow cyclist who looked like he was hauling a house behind him. Turns out, he was. His name was Steve Myers and he had been on the road for over five years. Our trailer looked small compared to his massive two-hundred pounder, which was actually a modified baby trailer. We wished eachother the best of luck and were on our way. At a small town called Minden we stopped to refill our water supply and get some Gatorade. While switching the trailer we noticed some skydivers, which prompted Scott to tell me that he wants to skydive on this trip(so look for that in a future blog). After leaving, the wind picked up and made the next few miles feel really tough. Ten miles in and we passed Funk, Nebraska, which is the coolest city we've passed through by default. Finally arriving in Holdredge, we slipped into a mexican restaurant before it closed. Inside, a couple who had ordered take-out called town dispatch to see where we could camp. They told us to set up in the city park right across the street. We ordered and started chatting with the only other customer, named Greg Larson. He was a real cool guy who was in town coaching a pony league baseball team. We shook hands and he wished us luck and walked out. We went to pay our bill and found that he had already taken care of it. Midwestern kindness is insane! Everyone just wants to help everyone else. When we went to go to sleep following set up, Scotty was feeling a little restless and decided to go have a beer at the bar across the street. I fell fast asleep, only awaking when he zipped the tent open. It was a clear-skied cool night, which to us means no suffocating rainfly. The breeze wisped us into a deeply restorative sleep. I woke before Scott(for the first time on the trip) and took a stroll down to the lake in the middle of the park. The wind was coming from the east which means easy riding. The day only got better after drinking a cup of coffee and tearing down camp. Right now we are sitting in the same Mexican restaurant eating beans and rice, trying to stay nourished. We've decided to stay on route 6/34 into Colorado. I cannot wait to see my brother and his new friends in Denver. We plan on taking some days off to get acclimated to the altitude and rest our bones. Thank you to everyone who follows us (I know my Dad checks the site atleast twice a day) and to everyone who has donated. Keep the donations coming and let's help some kids get the care they need!" -Sam

May 27th:
"Our feelings about Illinois and our time we made were mixed. While we met awesome people, we didn't push out big days like we wanted. In our Motel room in Muscatine we promised ourselves Iowa in three days. That was a heavy 90+ miles a day. Around noon we packed up, ate, and headed for Route 92. We chose 92 because it is a straight shot from Muscatine to Omaha, Nebraska, where we had a place to stay. As in the past we picked two random spots to stop: Lake Keomah State Park and Winterset. Twenty miles in and we were wondering when the hills would stop, this is the Great Plains, you know.... They did not stop. The next eighty miles to Keomah was grueling, mostly for Scott, as I had taken the BOB(our trailer, whose flag broke off somewhere ) for the first fifty miles and he was to finish out our planned ninety five. It is around this time that I should tell all that we turned somewhat nocturnal through Iowa. We learned a huge lesson from the wind in the latter part of Illinois. Ride at night and there's no traffic, no wind. Around two AM we were exhausted. The landscape is large rolling hills one after another. After being scared nearly to death by a giant werewolf-esque dog we stopped for a quick break. Stretching on the side of the road we hear a scratchy meow, joking that it was a cougar. Turns out it was a small, tan farm cat with a huge heart and a bigger appetite for peanut butter crackers. We named him Jasper. Soon another cat appeared and made itself quite at home on Scott's lap. We finally had to say good-bye and got a move towards camp. Miles down the road we saw a little town, Sigourney, I think, and stopped in a motel to fill our water. Scott went in and I stayed outside with the gear. A few minutes went by and I was greeted by a barking dog running full sprint across the street, apparently coming to eat me. Let me just say that we never want to hurt an animal or anything for that matter, but I grabbed my pepper spray as a last ditch. Now twenty feet away the dog stopped, my heart pounding. We stared each other down for a few seconds and he started to wag his tail. He came all the way around my side to my back, lowered his head and greeted me to pet him. This dog, which we named Rufus, was a sweetheart. Scott finally came back outside, his face in shock that we met another friendly animal, and presented Rufus with a cracker (cream cheese & chives, most prized among cracker connoisseurs like Scott) which he devoured instantly. From the second cracker on, the dog went out of sight to dig a hole and hide his snack for a later time. Lake Keomah was still thirty miles away so we hopped back on the bikes and started up the hills. We finally made it in around five AM. We pitched the tent, made a quick meal and fell asleep. In the heat of midday we awoke sweaty and grumpy. Oskaloosa was the next town seven miles away. We ate a giant meal and moved toward Winterset. Once again we rode into the night, watching the sun set and rise. We found a camping spot and slept into another balmy morning. A little into the afternoon it started to rain and cool off allowing us some much needed rest. Winterset, by the way, is the covered bridge capital of Iowa and also the birthplace of John Wayne. Determined to keep our three day promise, we set out again to eat and ride to Omaha, NE. Finally, around ten PM we started moving. We didn't get far. A man on a horse with a Labrador following close behind, named Nathan Mitchell, stopped us and offered Scott a beer. After telling our story we really had to get moving, Omaha was 120 miles west. Riding somewhat dazed we made it 56 miles to Lyman, Iowa around daybreak and took a nap on the gravel lot of a body shop. We pushed into what became an incredibly hot day. We were recharged by the sun and five hour energy shots but still upset that Iowa had not flattened one bit, actually getting more hilly (Check the pictures for Scott's epic "bug in eye" photos which happened on a down hill slope near the border). In the distance we saw skyscrapers and knew Omaha was close. There is some sort of finish line syndrome that happens after one hundred miles, where every single mile feels like five. Knowing we had a few days off and a bed to sleep in was our only motivation. We trudged 120.34 miles from Winterset, Iowa to Omaha, Nebraska to be greeted by Cindy and Mike Stoner, parents of Scott's old friend Brandon. They made us feel right at home with a shower and had us take a nap before a good home cooked meal. Mike and Cindy were so good to us. They are some of the most genuine, generous people I've ever encountered in my life. They even bought Scott an ointment called Butt Paste for well, his butt, which is in constant pain because of his seat. The next day, Memorial day, they had a picnic and invited neighbors and friends and we had a blast.. We played yard games and ate and ate and ate. It was amazing. Everyone really just gave us the sense that we belonged. At the end of the night we retired to our separate rooms( Scott and I didn't have to sleep within ten feet of each other!) thankful for all the amazing people we've met. Now it is Tuesday and once again we are itching to get on the road. We are waiting for the rain to stop and we plan to ride fifty or so miles where the locals say the hills stop completely and call it a night. It is crazy to think of the distance we've covered in a little over two weeks. Personally, the miles blend together, but the landmarks, and people and cats and dogs we remember. We catalogue thoughts and recall smells. The experience is fantastic in its duality: we have the experience of a lifetime to help kids live a lifetime. That's the heavy stuff that drives us to push out big days; that's our local anesthetic." - Sam

"Though Sam and I weren't able to be with our families on the holiday Mike and Cindy made us feel like we'd never left home. At the picnic they hosted, we met some amazing new people; Jeff, Omaha Bill, Linda, and Bill who is a great photographer and musician. He had a piano, bongos, and an acoustic guitar and bass that he let us bring back to the picnic. Yesterday morning when we woke Cindy took us to meet Mike for lunch where we said our goodbyes to him after he treated us to yet another meal. We spent the rest of the afternoon packing the washed and folded clothes Cindy laid out for us as we waited for the rain to stop. It was great to hang out with Cindy all afternoon, she's our midway mom. Worried to see us go she took pictures with Bill in the driveway as we departed on a short ride to Lincoln, NE. The rain had stopped temporarily but picked back up 10 miles into the trip. Around halfway Sam ran into a few bicycle malfunctions, his crank arm (that the pedal is attached to) started to become loose. Without a large enough allen wrench to fix it, we did the best we could to tighten it. 2 miles later we stopped to tighten it again, and soon after that I look back to witness his crank arm dismantling. I spot where the screw had fallen, and after a few failed attempts to reconnect it in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere, we began to walk. That got old fast so we saddled back up and I laughed the rest of the way as Sam gimp-pedaled his way to the nearest gas station. I spot a few friends in a pickup truck chatting outside so I approached them to ask if they might have a large enough tool for us to fix the bike. Cody and Buddaha where there names. Cody hops out of his truck and grabs a tool kit only to find he doesn't have a large enough bit. Buddaha stays to hang out and Cody ran home to grab an extra kit to make sure we made it the final 10 miles to Lincoln. After he returned and fixed Sam's pedal out pops two brothers just leaving work. Big Baby, the one called himself, like Cody and Buddaha was such a good guy. He genuinely wanted to know about our journey and our cause. He said he was a musician with an album recently coming out and he wanted to get us on the radio. We exchanged numbers and I gave everybody the site address, we parted ways after grabbing some good video footage of the whole event. I wake at 8:30 this morning to Dan Rivers from 570WKBN Youngstown talk radio giving me a call. I hang up with him shortly after agreeing to do a call in interview at 10:10 this morning. No longer than 30 seconds after I hang up, my phone rings again, it's Big Baby. He gave me a number to call and told me it was his buddy Matt McKay's national radio station KSRX 106.3. I called in just a moment ago and was heard all over Lincoln, NE. As I hung up I got a call from 570WKBN and did another interview with Dan. Its crazy to be heard around the country almost simultaneously. I'm about to wake Sam with a cup of coffee so we can pack up and get a move on, he's still missing a washer from his crank arm so we'll have to find a hardware store before we head west. Today we are 1000 miles from home. We're shooting for Denver by Saturday. Hello plains!" - Scott

MAY 21st:
"Saturday the 16th Sam and I make our way across Merrillville, IN heading for the Illinois state line. Three miles in a man shouts from from a parking lot in his pickup truck, 'HEY! You guys from Youngstown!?' 'yeah!', I shouted back curiously. He pulled closer and explained he recently read about us in the news. It was Mr. J Hoffman, I graduated with his daughter and worked with his son. He offered us a place to stay but seeing that we just started out we had to decline the generous offer. He then gave us a ten dollar bill and told us to grab lunch on him. That's the second time in that city we were given a random donation. Earlier at the Walmart Sam mentioned, a store manager came out to ask about our adventure. Sam and I told him of the charity and pulled out 20 dollars and gave it to Sam. Finally Sam and I reach the boarder of illinois and find our way to a paved bike path that lead us west for about 15 miles. I was pulling our trailer at the time, as I saw a young guy pulling a two wheeled childrens trailer with his baby boy in the back. I pulled along side and said 'I feel your pain bud', hinting towards our trailers. With a glance back he laughed and replied, 'hey are you guys on that American Discovery Trail?' 'just got on it about 7 miles ago' I replied. 'No way, I've been looking at that map online. Where you guys taking it to?' 'San Francisco' I replied. Jerry Lenhert was his name, and we rode along side him for a while explaining our journey, and talking bikes. He eventually turned to us and said, 'you know, you seem like pretty cool guys, do you need a place to crash tonight? You can pitch the tent in the back yard, I've got a fire pit and everything.' Sam and I were only 40 miles deep when we met with Jerry but couldn't pass the generous offer. We followed Jerry a few blocks to his house where we met his wife Shelly in the driveway. They led us to their backyard where we set up our tent and met their beautiful children Lexi and Eisen. The neighbors Joe and Tina and their children, Nate and Nick, came over to check out our gear and hear our story. Joe went home to cut up and season some potatoes while Jerry threw some brats on the grill for us. By the end of the night we had a camp fire, a full belly, and a guitar to strum on. The following morning we woke to Shelly making pancakes and coffee for us. They offered us a shower and a chance to wash our clothes but we'd felt they had done enough already. We hung out until 3PM gathering our things and charging our electronics. The neighbors came back over to say our goodbyes, Jerry grabbed his bike to lead us out just as he led us in. All our new friends gathered on the street waving us off after a few goodbye hugs. Jerry led us to the trail and as we parted ways and made him promise he would go on that bike adventure he's been thinking about. The Lehnert's generosity is a true sign of trust and good heartedness. Its the kind of generosity that can only be reciprocated when given a chance to help another along our path. Its pure character and we will never forget their kindness. We pedaled through a town called Joliet and onto a trail that stretches across the entire state of Illinois called the I&M Cannal. The sun began to drop but we carried on because of our late start. 3 miles from the trails last intersection with a road Sam and I come to a 'trail closed' sign to find that the storm we rode through a few nights earlier had built up enough water to blow a 10 foot gap in the trail. Water rushed through like a river making it impossible to cross. Forced to backtrack we made our way back to a creepy dark road and headed west until we hooked back up with the trail. We came across a camping sign in a lot just off the trail which looked like it hadn't been camped in for years. Faced with a 'camp if you dare' decision, our fatigue kicked in and decided for us. We made a fire and posted up for the night just outside Seneca, IL. The following day we rode 15 miles to Ottowa to hit a laundromat where our friend Sarah from Rockford, IL met with us and brought us some unexpected treats. 5 containers of pasta salad and 2 tests of chocolate-oatmeal bars. After repacking we parted with Sarah and pedaled into a gorgeous sunset 60 miles to Wyanet, IL. I set up a tent and Sam made a fire. And we called it a night at the nicest campsite yet. We woke at 10:30am roasting in our tent to a clear sky and windy morning. We road a mile back into town to stock up on water for the day, ate a cold can of chilli and 2 cans of fruit and set sale by 1:30PM. We made it to a small town called Sheffield and stopped in a bar to recharge the phones. The bartender payed for our pizza and sent us on our way. We rode another 10 miles into the SW wind only to stop at a park after deciding the wind was too strong for us to carry on. In the afternoon there is rarely an easy day. If its not hilly, its flat and windy. Heading west across the US its rare that we'll ever encounter a tail wind. So Sam and I took an hour nap and stopped for a large dinner before we rode on around 10PM. The problem was we were too determined to cross into Iowa that day so we weren't going to stop until we did. With 70 miles to go and re-fueled we set off into the now windless night just after watching the sunset. We rode all night into the country free of light pollution. It was so clear that the milky way was visible like a band across the sky, we counted over ten shooting stars. After a long but easy 70 mile ride through the night we watched the sun go down and come back up just as we crossed the Mississippi River into Iowa. We grabbed a motel to get some proper rest for the day off we planned to take. We showered and hit the sack at an early/late 9am chalking up a 90 mile day. We just woke and and got back from dinner, Sam makes me eat at least three Chinese buffet's a week, though I must say this one was the best. We are now in Muscatine, Iowa. We bagged our 3rd state and are ready to trek across the 4th tomorrow morning. Stay posted." - Scott

MAY 19th:
"After a week and two days on the road, our life is transforming into something wildly different from anything we've known. I feel slightly outside of society in a way, almost foreign. "You're doing what?", some people drawl out. Some wish luck with a sincere smile and believe in our cause. Others wish us well with a laugh and a tongue-in-cheek smirk. Most look away. Others ignore us when we ask for directions. But sometimes people extend their kindness far beyond a smile. After Lagrange, Indiana we took some Amish country roads to Route 6. Kingsford Heights was the town we picked from the map for our destination. When we arrived it was dark. There were no traffic lights or stores, only a gas station and a bar. Scott asked the attendant at the gas station if there were any places to eat. She implied the bar was probably done serving food and that was our only choice. We ran into a guy pumping gas who told us to go to the bar, called High X, and order Mark,the owner, to make us ham sandwiches. We didn't exactly take his advice, but found out that Mark would make us chicken salad sandwiches. Everyone at the bar was super friendly and thought we were positive young people "doing something". Mark was even kind enough to let us sleep behind the bar( which is technically his front yard) after we told him we didn't know where to camp. The next day was forecast for bad weather west of us. Knowing the rain would hold till about noon, we got an early start and rode west on Route 30. Not long after it started to sprinkle. We took a break after about two hours and got some food at a subway and refilled our water. As soon as we left the actual rain poured. A few miles into the wet we had to stop. Scott didn't have anything waterproof and I only had a jacket. Walmart's sports section has a surprisingly small collection of waterproof gear, but enough for Scott and I to stay dry. A total of forty miles and we had to stop and get warm. We found a motel that gave us a discount rate ten miles from the Illinois border. Scott hung everything up to dry while I marveled at how blue( from the dye in my shoes) and how shriveled my toes were. After missing checkout time by a classy hour and a half, Scott and I saddled up and crossed the border." -Sam

MAY 13th:
"It is currently a rainy morning on Wednesday the 13th of May. After staying at Scott's good friend Jeff's place in Maumee, Ohio, we pedaled about eighty miles into one of the most beautiful days we will probably encounter. The roads were flat, the skies were clear, and there was hardly any wind. Fifteen miles after crossing the Ohio/Indiana border we reached Angola. I had made plans with the Angola Fire Department to camp outside. Officer Gilbert of the Angola Police showed us where we could set up. Very generously they let us use their showers and bathrooms. I cannot stress enough how genuinely nice these guys were, they even gave us directions to a supermarket and a printout of the weather. We fell asleep sometime around 12 and woke up around 6. Neither Scott nor myself has been getting good sleep since leaving, and it's taking it's toll. Our muscles are telling us to nap and we're telling them to go. We've definitely been eating our fair share of food though, so that helps a little. Trail mix is a staple along with bananas and apples. Oh, and for anyone worried about us drinking enough water I assure you we are. Our bathroom breaks and camel- back refills are frequent, almost an annoyance. Other than that I can tell you this experience is amazing. In a car everything is in a frame and it gets so boring, but on a bike there is no frame and you are part of the landscape. I may have totally stole that last bit from a book, but it's undeniably true. So now, as I write this Scott finishes uploading videos from our little motel room and we stay dry and warm." - Sam

MAY 10th:
"This morning we left our luxurious Motel 6 at 11:30am shortly after sorting and repacking everything in the trailer. We finally got the camera fully charged and working so we will be able to film and take photos of our journey. The first day was emotional. With small feelings of immediate homesickness and worry accompanied with excitement and eagerness Sam and I pushed our way through the windstorm and into Fairlawn, OH. Today, distraught for the small mileage we covered on opening day, but well rested, we were ready to bust out a good day. Straight out of the motel going west on rt 18 there was about 3-5 miles of uphill highway. Sam, with the trailer, lead us through Medina and into Litchfield where we stopped at a small gas station to stretch and trade the trailer off. One thing we have learned so far is that we will constantly be hungry, and candy is more delicious than ever! I lead us through another 30 or so miles into Norwalk. Along the way we passed through a small town called Wellington and stopped in front of a bar called the Rediron. I walked in and informed a few employees of our journey to ask if they could fill our camelbacks (three liters of water that fit in our backpacks). The one lady working, put three dollars into a photo booth and told us to step in. Two strips of the pics came out, she handed us one and kept the other to hang up. She gave us the bar number and asked us to give them a call when we make it, for filling our water supply it was the least we could do. Across the plains the winds really start to pick up and by the time we got to Norwalk, about halfway of our target, we were pretty tired. We stopped at a small diner, ate and rested before the third quarter. Once we took off we noticed that all the wind had stopped, making it a very easy flat ride the rest of the way to Maumee, OH (neighboring Toledo). We got in at 4:30am to my friend Jeff Quinn's place. Unfortunately we had to wake him to let us in, but as soon as we got everything inside he let us borrow the car and go to Waffle House. We ate enough for at least four people, returned to Jeff's where he set out two fresh towels to shower and blankets. Tomorrow we are going to take the day off to take advantage of the free place to stay and mattresses, and also to spend time with Jeff. Tuesday we have made arrangements with a fire station in Angola, Indiana (just across the border). They have given us permission to set up our tent for free and crash. Thanks again to everyone keeping tabs on us, and to Jeff for the hospitality. Talk to ya Tuesday! - Scott

MAY 9th:
"Hey every one. We left this morning at about 6am and made it to Fairlawn, Ohio. Its about 55 miles away and about 8-10 miles out of Akron. Last minute preparations and essentials kept both Sam and I up later than we had expected. A wind and storm advisary was announced on the weather channel last night of 50 MPH winds starting around noon. So we decided after we made a visit to the main campus of the children's hospital in Akron we would go just a little further and find a motel seeing that it would be near impossible to camp in that kind of weather. We had 3 friends start our journey with us this morning on bikes, Steve, Juni, and Andy. Fortunate to have such wonderful friends escort us out, Sam and I left from Cycle Sales in boardman. We coasted down our first hill heading west down 224 and spotted Juni and Steve waiting for us at Denny's. With arms stretched wide we soaked in the feelings of freedom and adventure, grabbed up friends and rode to Andy waiting just a mile down the road. Unfortunately Steve popped a tire before we even got to canfield so Juni stayed with him at home while Andy rode on with us. There was a frightening overcast that looked like it was about to pour on us at any moment but we only got a few drops. As we neared Akron and the skyline poked over the trees the wind slowed down and the skies opened up and warmed our shoulders. When we reached it we took a tour of the hospital and they bought us lunch before we headed out for our last ten mile stretch. Now the overcast came back and that wind advisory finally kicked in. With a 40 mph head wind holding us to a speed of 5 mph we slowly made it to our motel. By 3:30 we entered our motel tired and in need of showers. It is now 7PM and we are going to walk over to a golden corral and feast. Thank you to everyone involved and for supporting us. We love you all and promise to stay safe!" -Scott