Hello my fellow bike forum friends.
Oh yeah, did I mention that every time I talk to someone related to cycling, I always give them the address to this community?
Anyway, It's my 21st day of touring. I am currently in Ontario, Oregon. Well, let's see what happened last few days, for example. After leaving Winnemucca, Nevada, that days I had two flats, both in rear and in front tire, the thorns from the plants caused the punctures. In the evening, after about 60 miles, I got to a town called Mc Dermit, which is right on the border of Nevada and Oregon. There I had a really nice lunch, with boiled eggs and fruits. In the evening, I stopped by the "Say When" casino and for an hour and a half talked to two old men, Jim and Mike. They were the local farmers that are retired. For some reason the trip impressed them so much that they wanted to help me somehow. They really enjoyed looking at me drinking their old whiskey shots, which they bought me. After Mike found out that part of the diet is a peanut butter, he went straight to the restaurant and and bought me a fried chicken dinner. I promised to send them a post card when I get somewhat far from there and hurried to get out of that place before they spend more money on me... Very embarrassing, but they are sincere and very fun people to talk to. :-)
In the morning, after taking a picture near Oregon entrance sign, I continued north on Highway 95. In Nevada and that part of Oregon, the distances between towns are streched greatly compared to more populated States, so the next place where it should be possible to get water, was Burns Junction 55 miles away. As it turned out later, it was a closed restaurant, and not working gas station. From there, highway 78 goes 91 mile to town called Burns, that's north/west, or 95 continues north/east 111 miles to Caldwell, Idaho. SO! nothing very close.
What happened then is, what many people fear so much. I broke down, in the REAL MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. I was riding on the pretty narrow shoulder of about 12 inches wide with snow bumps on the left and gravel/sand on the right. When I was shifting and looked down to a derailleur to see what gear I was in, the front wheel went to the right, into the gravel and suddenly stopped, I was going about 15 miles per hour and this caused me to fly in front of the bike about 10 feet, landing on my arms first and then on both legs. I think years in gymnastics helped not to loose much control. So, I was fine, wondered what people thought in the passing car... Then I found out that the front wheel is bent, brake pads wouldn't let it spin and the it was more than an inch wobble. Luckily, in Winnemucca, two days ago I bought my first spoke wrench, so with good spirit, I put the bike up side down and attempted for the first time to true the wheel. Unfortunately, spokes on the front wheel never been touched, from probably the beginning, the early 80s when the bike was built, so they were so rusted that nipple didn't want to turn, and some of then rounded. Well, I took the brake pads off and continued to ride slowly with wobbling wheel, thinking about where would be the next bike shop to get some spokes, and since I was attempting to go to Burns, which is 130+ miles, there is not a big chance that there is shop there, so basically, nothing good.