Day 64-Stuart to O'Neill (28 Miles)

We had to get up early today to end the run in time for the Huskers game at 2:30. I figured watching this in a bar would be an essential Nebraskan experience considering how rabid the fans have been throughout the state on this run. We got up, ate breakfast at the Range Cafe, and drove to Stuart to start our 28 miles to O'Neill. My dad decided to join me for the day in its entirety. My mom drove the support vehicle, greeting us at all of our stops every five miles or so.

We passed through the town of Atkinson and my mom soon pulled up next to us with a reporter from the local paper. After a quick interview, we trudged through to O'Neill, the Irish capital of Nebraska. This was made official by the huge clover leaf painted on the road at the main intersection of town. We checked into the historic Golden Hotel and got to our rooms to shower and rest. I was given the Husker room, completely decorated with posters, pillows,wallpaper and banners of Big Red.

The Husker game against Florida Atlantic was already pretty well decided in the first quarter by the time we started watching and no bars seemed to be bustling with patrons watching the game. I was way more concerned about Oregon State being down to Portland State at halftime anyways. I checked for score updates during a steak dinner at the Western Cafe. The Beavers managed to turn things around a bit in the second half and pull out the W. Not being able to watch OSU games on Saturdays with any reliability is going to be tough for the next couple months.

We toured the town of 3,700 by car, sipping on root beer floats on an already full stomach. To be expected in the Irish capital, the largest building was a catholic church with the private St. Mary's high school across the street. We continued the tour on foot downtown, stopping for drinks at the Eagles club across from the hotel.

Today was the only full day I'd get to spend with my parents on their visit before finishing my rest day tomorrow on my own. I'm glad my dad got to experience a day on the left shoulder with me and that my mom was able to help along the road. I would have loved to have them by my side for the rest of my run to the other side of the country. It certainly would make the trip a whole lot easier both physically and especially mentally. I'll get to see them soon enough either when I go swimming or when I return to my home state.

Huskers mean a little bit 'round here

Day 63-Long Pine State Park to Stuart (30 Miles)

Waking up to turkey fight outside of my tent provided a bit of entertainment to start the day. It marked the first time I've ever seen turkeys fly as the losing rafter (I must admit I looked up what a group of turkeys was called) flew across Pine Creek one at a time in retreat.

As I was packing up to leave for the morning, the state park ranger drove down to ask me how the weather was last night. The park ranger, Gary, was also the mayor of Bassett, a town I would be passing through in about ten miles. We talked at length about his ride across the United States when he was younger and how he ate lunch with Neil Young at a diner in Colorado along the way. He also had recently encountered a kid who was carrying his father's ashes in a canoe on the entire Missouri River from Canada to the Gulf of Mexico.

Three miles into the run, I heard someone come running from behind me and pass me on the right side. No one had done that the entire run, but I figured I may be picking up my first disciple Forrest Gump style. He looked sorta like my dad, but what would my dad be doing outside of Long Pine, Nebraska? After a few seconds I realized it was my dad! And my mom was in a rental car at a turnout just down the road! It was an amazing surprise that caught me completely off guard. They had flown into Omaha the night before and spent the night in O'Neill-my stop in two nights. They had actually passed me on the road just before and were worried the surprised was ruined.

My dad joined me on the run into Bassett where we stopped for fuel of floats and pizza at the gas station. He joined me for a few more miles towards Stuart before being picked up off of the side of the road-leaving me to finish the final 15 miles on my own. After getting done, we unloaded my cart and folded it up to fit in the compact rental car. We drove through Main St. of Stuart and returned to Bassett where we had a room in the Bassett Lodge.

After showering and a bit of rest we went to dinner at the Range Cafe on the bottom floor of the hotel. We walked around town a bit and found our way into the Corral Bar with a large group of friends who were on a tubing trip of the Niobrara River. They ended up buying my and my parents' drinks. One of the group, Matt, offered me a place to stay down the road in Sioux City.

It was amazing to be with my parents and sleep in a bed when just a few hours earlier I had expected to be camping alone in another city park. We all got to sleep pretty early as my dad was going to join me on the jaunt to O'Neill.

Dad and I right after the surprise

Day 62-Wood Lake to Long Pine State Park (29 Miles)

The small towns along Highway 20 here in Nebraska serve as bowling pins for the really crummy weather bowler in Denver who is only capable of hitting one pin at a time. Watching the weather radar and the little storm cells only about a mile or two wide work their way to the northeast, its pretty easy to picture that being the case. Despite only hitting one town a night, the bowler seems to never have any trouble finding the one I'm in.

The morning rains, a continuation from the cell last night, led to another late start. I walked from the park to the highway and continued down the familiar path. At my first break I was passed by the first cyclist I'd seen in a long while, Sariann. She was hauling across the country with her boyfriend, who was several miles ahead, at over 100 miles a day. I was telling her that I don't think very many people have run across the United States pushing their own stuff in a stroller, but she said she had seen two people doing it near the Painted Hills in Oregon. We came to figure out that she had seen Sam and I! I quickly remembered her and her boyfriend on our run over the Ochoco Pass to Mitchell while she was on a ride from Prineville to the Painted Hills and back. Our crew was halved, our stroller switched out, and I look about 13.9 times more homeless since then. It was pretty easy to see why she couldn't recognize me.

I stopped into the town of Ainsworth for another Dr. Pepper float and a grocery store run. I realized I hadn't done much of a shopping trip since Casper, and I was actually running close to dangerously low. I was out of M&Ms and even resorted to eating a package of raw oatmeal that had always been buried at the bottom of the bear canister. I could actually see the bottom plastic of the canister for the first time.

After the resupply, I finished the last eight miles to the state park I would be camping in for the evening. This marked the longest stretch of continuous running without a break perhaps of the entire trip. I settled for an amazing camp site right along Pine Creek at the base of the valley where the town sat atop of. It was quite warm out and the cool fast flowing waters were a great shower.

Settling under my covered area, it quickly became clear that the bowler in Denver was going to hit Long Pine tonight. Right after making this realization, a big Ford pickup came down the hill to the creek and bearded man with a pipe and two chihuahuas got out and headed towards the water. As the rain started to pick up, Don, his fishing pole he called a great lightning rod, and the rainbow trout he just caught joined me under the shelter. He was from Banks, Oregon and had moved to Ainsworth ten years ago with his wife to take care of his mother in law. We talked about the differences between the two places and how, despite being not very similar at all, he liked them just the same.

Don left in between rounds one and two of thunderstorms. The wind would be a lot heavier tonight so I tied all four corners of the tent to permanent objects with parachute cord given to me by Jeff in Dubois. I piled all of my stuff into either the tent or cart, strapped on the tarp to the cart, and took shelter in the tent before the show of round two. The lightning lit up the sky, but the bolts all appeared to be content to stay in the clouds. The thunder never followed by less than ten seconds, so my fear was nowhere near where it has been in the past.

View from camp of Pine Creek

Day 61-Valentine to Wood Lake (25 Miles)

The first time checking my phone in the morning, it showed me the time was 9 am. I thought it impossible that I slept in that much, but then realized I was still adjusting to a time change. The humidity, combined with my over cautiousness of putting the rain fly on, combined for a pretty crummy night's sleep.

After eating my breakfast of Pop-Tarts, a granola bar and the last of my trail mix, I walked up the big hill from the park to the main part of town and to the Cowboy Trailhead Park. The Cowboy Trail claims to be the longest rails-to-trails in the United States with its completed section stretching from Valentine to Norfolk, almost 200 miles away.

A lot of times driving longer road trips I'll notice the railroad parallels the highway for the vast majority of the distance before occasionally disappearing. It's when it disappears that it becomes a lot of fun. Instead of climbing and descending the sand hills, like the highway, it knifes right through them. The excavations and embankments were pretty impressive and, most importantly, kept things very flat.

Before the railroad returned to parallel the highway, I stopped and noticed my phone was missing. The music from Pandora had stopped two miles earlier, and I had just figured I'd lost service-but it'd fallen off the wagon! With the phone being too important to leave behind, I would have to add four more miles to the day-not a very fun prospect. Luckily, it was only about a half mile back.

The nice cinder surface of the Cowboy Trail got noticeably rougher along the highway where, despite signs warning them not to, ranchers had run their cattle on the path. The surface became really rough and jostled the cart way too much. Because it was no longer like running on an air hockey table, I jumped back onto the shoulder of Highway 20 to the town with a posted population of 64, Wood Lake.

I stopped into the Wood Lake Cafe for an early dinner and watched a couple episodes of Law and Order with the waitress, who wasn't too busy as I was the only customer. On my way to the city park for the night, I stopped by Grandma's Playhouse and Ice Cream Shoppe. The open sign wasn't on, but the lights were and she said it'd be alright if she made me a cherry malt. I visited with Grandma Norma for awhile and she told me if the storms got too bad tonight, I could stay with her in the house adjacent to the park.

The forecast called for 2-3 inches of rain tonight, a pretty impressive amount for an area that averages 16-17 inches per year. I set up camp under an 8' x 10' covered picnic area with a concrete slab. During the calm before the storm I walked around town and met a couple, one of whom was the pastor, who were coming back from Bible study at the church. They too offered their home if the storm got too rough.

Right as I fell asleep the rain started pounding the corrugated metal roof. Because their was no lightning, the sounds were actually pretty relaxing and served as great white noise. There were three solid bursts of rain that night, but my tent and I managed to stay mostly dry.

Crossing the Niobrara River on the Cowboy Trail

Day 60-Cody to Valentine (38 Miles)

I started the day off with biscuits and gravy, eggs, and fried potatoes cooked by Peggy. I surely wouldn't be having the hunger pangs of early yesterday this morning. As I prepped the cart I noticed the left tire to be super flat. I went to patch it, but realized there were about 20 punctures as if I had rolled through a patch of roses. With all of the thorns still embedded in the tire, I decided to bust out one of the classy white tires I bought in Casper. Todd returned home from coaching volleyball practice and we walked as a group to the post office before I continued down the road. It was cold enough for Todd and Peggy to put on jackets for the trip.

For such a long day, the run wasn't half bad. Nothing too exciting happened except finding 50 cents on the ground. As I got about ten miles from town, I started to notice trash from McDonalds littering the shoulder. I got excited as I realized Valentine was probably a big enough town to have one with a population of 2,800.

The golden arches may as well have been the golden gates of heaven. They were the first distinguishable feature I noticed, despite being 1.5 miles away. I was a little disappointed that it was one of those inflated price McDonalds, but I splurged a bit spending over ten dollars. My hunger was conquered, but the McGurgles quickly made me realize I wasn't in heaven anymore.

I had heard from several others back down the road that the city park in Valentine was an excellent place to camp for the night, complete with hot showers. The county sheriff I talked to confirmed this. Normally I'm one to explore town for a bit, but not tonight. 38 miles wiped me out. I'm glad I jumped the hour ahead into the central time zone so I could fall asleep at a more acceptable time (9 pm).

The hearts really added to the Forrest Gump theme

Day 59-Merriman to Cody (24 Miles)

There are some days I don't feel much like running. When I'm lucky they coincide with a rest day...today I had no such luck. I was awoken by kids crossing the park for their first day of school. I overheard one of Little Wolf's sons, part of a family I met in the park last night, explain to his friends why there was a strange guy sleeping under the picnic shelter.

Reluctant to start I trudged on for a relatively short day. I started my initial walk through town with a check of the weather. The zero percent chance of rain promised yesterday was a distant memory as there was a 90 percent chance of thundershowers at 11 am. I couldn't run fast enough to beat that. Checking the radar, I watched this cute little blue storm cell quickly mature into a dark maroon monster that was unleashing its wrath over Alliance. I checked again at mile five and the odds of rain had been reduced to 10 percent. Apparently all of the clouds had drained themselves out. I dodged a bullet...for now. There is no sense in checking the hourly forecast here in Nebraska.

Between miles 9-14 I hit a wall really hard and had to stop several times to stuff my face with Twinkies and granola bars. At 14 I dug through the bear canister storing my food and found some rarely used caffeinated jelly beans. These, combined with a 30 minute nap, worked magic and I felt infinitely better. I decided I would listen to music out of the speakers on my phone while running for the first time all trip. The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society carried me through the final ten miles as the Big Sky blessed me with zero raindrops.

This rest and music lifted my spirits tremendously for the rest of the run. I hadn't been keeping up with my usual salute of a wave to cars that changed lanes for me, but resumed so after the break. The Nebraska Department of Roads' trucks represented a large chunk of traffic. I'd learned yesterday at the Sand Bar that the department recently cut a lot of jobs after they invented a shovel that stood up on its own.

I arrived to Cody and gave my host for the night, Todd, a call to let him know I was in town. He popped out of the nearest building, the Circle C Market, a store completely constructed and operated by students that have Todd as their principal and superintendent at Cody-Kilgore High School. The store project has been nationally recognized as a great way to give students entrepreneurial skills while providing a boost in business to the small town. It is also the only supermarket that uses hay bales as insulation.

After a shower and lunch with Todd's wife Peggy, I toured the town of 154. I started by visiting the 6-man football field and baseball field across from the Chessmore's home. I ran into the hardware store for a quick errand for cart maintenance where I was given the necessary pins free of charge. I bought a Pepsi for 75 cents and rounded it up to a dollar to cover the cost of the pins. I later paid a visit to the Circle C where I continued my bad luck with dairy by spilling chocolate milk.

Todd, Peggy and I enjoyed a wonderful dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches, corn and cabbage from their backyard garden. Peggy shredded 16 pounds of cabbage after dinner in order to make sauerkraut. She combined her mother's recipe with storage tips from a German exchange student they had a couple of years ago. We ended the evening by watching the movie "Kinky Boots."

I stayed in a room that had belonged to one of the Chessmore's ten children. Over the course of their lives Todd and Peggy have had 31 children call their house home, taking in several foster children to help them through rough times. The most they had in a home at once was 21 kids. They lived as a family for several years on the Omaha Indian Reservation where Todd was the superintendent for the school. I was truly fortunate to be on the receiving end of such giving hearts for the night. Thank you very much to my grandma Rennaker for setting me up with such wonderful people.

Cody, Nebraska

Day 58-Gordon to Merriman (30 Miles)

The Hacienda Inn had an early check out time of 10 am. I, like usual, milked this to its full advantage before starting the day. I left the darkness of the room to beautiful blue skies, no sign whatsoever of the apocalyptic storm that occurred last evening. I checked out, walked through the rest of town and began my run through the famed Sand Hills.

The run itself was pretty uneventful as I rose and descended the wind swept hills that made some of the best grazing country in the world. The Ogallala Aquifer, one of the largest in the entire world, brings life to the area. It has been interesting to see towns, some pretty large like Chadron, sprout up without any rivers or streams to draw from. Legend has it that in some places the aquifer is so shallow beneath ground that you can lay down and hear the waters flowing. Scrapers for the highway construction would hit water after only taking off the top one or two feet.

A family of Native Americans from South Dakota who gave me a bottle of orange juice and offered me a ride to Merriman was the only source of human interaction I had on the run. I wasn't expecting much since I had been told Merriman was only a town with a few ranch houses and a cafe that was never open. I arrived to find a large grain elevator and a posted population of 118, a pretty big city by my recent standards.

I stopped in for a late lunch at the Sand Bar and was greeted by a family from further down the road in Cherry County who stopped in on their way home from Deadwood, South Dakota. They informed me that Cherry County was the largest by area in the state of Nebraska, had only had 5,800 people, but also had over 50,000 head of cattle. Never have I heard so many jokes and quips on rapid fire than in that bar. They joked that's the only way to stay entertained around these parts.

The whole time they were peeling tabs on lottery tickets that cost 50 cents a piece. The first ticket they gave me to peel for them to tap into my beginner's luck yielded a buck-an insignificant amount compared to the $125 won down the table. To celebrate the winnings, a round of drinks was bought for the entire bar-a pretty big number considering liquor sales are illegal in South Dakota (only four miles away) on Sundays. My previous sandwich and cokes ended up being paid for from the winnings by the friendly Nebraskans.

I told the bartender my plans to continue up the road a mile to Cottonwood Lake. He told me the city park in town would be a better option because of its hot shower and flushing toilet. All of the bicyclists who passed through camped there and he reckoned I'd be okay to spend the night.

I arrived to the park located in the middle of town on Dry Creek-one of the biggest flowing bodies of water I've seen in the state. I showered in the bathroom with no lock and camped out under the picnic shelter, preparing my typical camping dinner of tortellini with hot sauce. It has been a week since Lost Springs, the last time I slept in the great outdoors.

5-Star camping experience

Day 57-E of Chadron to Gordon (35 Miles)

Starting off after two days' rest was a very strange feeling. Over the days of rest I started to re-acclimate to a more normal way of life and the prospect of running 35 miles seemed a little daunting. I left my amazing hosts with a stomach full of breakfast, cookies and chocolate for the road, a new tuque, and a pair of wool socks. I hope to see Mary and Alan again soon either in Portland or Chadron.

Since the start of the trip I had known I had a place to stay in Chadron. It was kind of a prominent target on the map of the US. This was as far east as any connection made before the run would take me, moving on from here felt like venturing into the unknown. The only stop I really know for sure for the rest of the run is the Atlantic Ocean, and I still haven't even figured out what state that will happen in yet. I don't even know where my next rest day will be.

I passed through Hay Springs and made my first real stop at the gas station in Rushville. Slightly disappointed that the restaurant was closed I settled for a 44 oz Dr. Pepper float for two bucks. I'd never seen a self-serve soft ice-cream dispenser in a gas station before.

As I sat down in a booth at the window to supervise my stroller outside, an older man, noticing my hat, asked me, "what do you know about Canada boy?" I told him I knew everything worth knowing. Ernie was from southwestern Ontario and had ranched in the Okanagan in BC until moving to Nebraska to be a long-haul trucker. We talked for about an hour covering a wide range of topics, mostly following his life and travels. He maintained Canadian citizenship but enjoyed all the rights of an American except the right to vote-something he didn't mind too much considering the political climate here. He hoped to move to Prince Edward Island in the near future for the rest of his life.

I left the restaurant to sunny skies and noticed the temperature to be 87 degrees according to the lighted sign at the bank. Only 14 miles left to Gordon. Four miles in, I stopped at milepost 95 to admire the apocalypse taking place to the north in South Dakota. The clouds made up for any lack of scenery in the terrain as they swirled around the sky in seemingly every direction with a southeast trend. One massive white one, on the fringe of the black sky, looked like a plinian volcanic eruption.

The celebration for arriving to the sign congratulating me on my 100 miles of running in Nebraska didn't quite go as planned. Instead of the usual stopping to eat and drink and maybe listen to a song or two on my phone, I picked up the pace to try to beat out the thunderhead of the north to Gordon. Based on the location of the cloud at this point compared to five miles ago I figured I stood a good chance. As the wind started to pick up and sky started to flash I noticed my pace pick up quite a bit.

I started to hear the thunder following the flashes of lightning in the distance and decided to seek shelter in a home adjacent to a radio station's tower. I told the resident my situation and she gave me advice as a professional Nebraskan that the lightning was a safe 3-4 miles away and I would be able to make it to Gordon without any problem. I thanked her for the tip, but didn't feel any safer and just figured she didn't want to let me in. I only had 3 miles to go and, despite a healthy dose of fear, still had a little confidence I could beat the storm.

The thunder was getting closer and closer, but from a different thunderhead that was coming from directly behind me. I got into the Western Cafe and checked the weather alert issued to Sheridan County stating, "Severe thunderstorm approaching Gordon with nickel sized hail and 1 inch of rain in a one half hour interval-seek shelter in a sturdy structure." The forecast came true as the cafe was bombarded with an artillery of hailstones. Booming thunder added to the storm's symphony.

Once the storm had passed I left the cafe and didn't see much in the way of clear sky to the west. The weather forecast warned of more lightning and hail. I decided it may be worthwhile to splurge on a cheap motel for the night. I dropped 50 bucks on a little piece of mind that I'd stay warm, dry, and avoid electrocution.

My opponent in the race to Gordon

Day 56-Rest Day 2 in Chadron

After breakfast I went with Alan to check his bug traps in the Nebraska National Forest as part of his work with the Forest Service. I got the full tour of this forest, mostly comprised of ponderosa pines, and the adjacent Chadron State Park. Alan showed me where he had wiped out on his bike during a triathlon a few years back.

We went to the university and joined Mary for lunch in the school cafeteria. Unlike at Oregon State, students at Chadron State pay to get access to an all you can eat style dining area. I loaded up with several helpings to fuel the coming days. Scarfing down the final bowl of ice cream was a bit of a challenge. We ate with several college staff, including the school's marketing director, who hooked me up with a new Chadron State Eagles t-shirt.

On the way home, Mary and I joined up with her dad at the Museum of the Fur Trade a few miles east of town. The artifacts from all around the world were very impressive and I gained a lot of insight into how prominent the fur trade was in the founding stages of the country and western settlements. Every geographic region approached the trade differently, but fur was an important industry in every corner of the US. Nanook of the North, a silent documentary from 1922 about an Inuit family in the Canadian Arctic captivated me for quite awhile.

I was pretty tired from the day and took a quick nap when we got home while Mary and Al ran. We enjoyed a dinner of enchiladas despite the fact that I was still plenty full from the university cafeteria bomb consumed hours ago. It was a nice evening before resuming the trek tomorrow.

View from Mary and Alan's back porch

Day 55-Rest Day 1 in Chadron

Today started off a bit early for a rest day as I rode into town with Mary before her first class at Chadron State. I had to fend for myself until 3:30, when her last class concluded.

I walked around campus for a bit, meandering through the ranching and the Mari Sandoz exhibits at the High Plains Heritage Center. I camped out in the student union and talked to a student on his way to practice for the rodeo team.

After campus I hopped on Mary's mountain bike covered in University of Iowa stickers to the Bean Broker where I stayed for a couple of hours. Mary had tipped off a writer for the Chadron Record that I was in town and he stopped by for a quick interview.

Biking around town I came across the MarBow, probably the only store in the country that specializes in both archery and musical instruments. Norman, the owner, was a big fan of in strings in tension. I purchased a ukulele from the store for entertainment for the rest of the run. Norman cut me a deal by knocking off 5 bucks and not including sales tax.

I kept biking around town and eventually decided to bike to the top of "C-Hill." The student paper had this on the student bucket list and I decided I'd give it a go. It was a bit strenuous for an off day, but I made it up. I savored the view and broke in my new purchase from about an hour earlier. At 3:30 I bombed down the hill over the large "C", a bit dangerous in flip flops, and returned to Mary's office.

We returned home and met up with Alan, who I had met previously in the middle of Wyoming. He cooked a great dinner of potatoes and carrots from the garden and the steaks of grass-fed beef from a local rancher. I also got a tour of the mountain bike trails he had cut around the perimeter of his land.

I decided I'd celebrate being close to halfway done by taking a day off tomorrow as well. I had no obligations down the road and a lot of stuff to still see in Chadron.

View of Chadron from atop "C" Hill

Day 54-Crawford to E of Chadron (36 Miles)

Getting off to a bit of a late start meant that I had to be efficient to catch Mary for lunch in Chadron before she had to teach a class at Chadron State College. Continuing down Highway 20 was the same as it had been the previous days. There were a few more Western Meadowlarks I spooked that were hidden in the sunflowers on the road's shoulder during this stretch. There were also a few friendly mosquitoes who decided to pay me a visit at my five-mile interval rests.

As I was entering town, completing the first two-thirds of the day, Terry and Pacen from Harrison stopped their red mini-van on the road's shoulder to say hello. It was great to see them again while they were in the largest city I will see in Nebraska (population 5,800) and they left me with yet another parting gift-a box of Twinkies to fuel me for a couple of days.

Soon after meeting them, I called Mary to let her know I was in town. She stopped at the convenience store I was at, helped load my cart into the back of her pickup, and drove me to a wonderful lunch with her parents at the Country Kitchen. Afterwards I got a driving tour through the university, an NCAA Division II school, and downtown before being dropped back off at my stopping point to resume the final third of the run.

I walked through the busy couple of blocks of town before starting off in earnest. As I left town, I noticed Mary had left me a message in chalk saying "12 More Miles-You Can Do It." Later messages down the road promised watermelon very soon and that I was getting "so close." I needed these little extra speed boosts as the final 12 miles were more difficult than the first 24 despite a few hour break.

Mary had passed me on her way home and joined up with me to run the last half mile or so. She then pushed my cart up the 3/4 mile hill to her beautiful home before she took off to finish her run. While she left running I took an ice-bath in the kiddy pool outside.

We had a great dinner of homemade pizza and dessert of rich chocolate pie. I admired all of the skiing, mountaineering, and running memorabilia covering the walls of her home. She also has several amazing landscape paintings that she had done around the house. It was a great way to finish a long week of seven consecutive days running.

Chalk support just outside of town

Day 53-Harrison to Crawford (26 Miles)

After breakfast in the Harrison House I walked the couple blocks to Herren Bros. to get set up for the day. I got a big tour of the main store and surrounding buildings from Pacen. In the middle of the tour Terry stopped by the store and offered to get me a Harrison t-shirt at Whiteaker's store. We walked over to pick up the beautiful new souvenir, and Pacen finished the tour of the store.

At about 10:30 it was time to depart my wonderful hosts in Harrison and head a marathon down the road to Crawford. I continue to be amazed by the hospitality of complete strangers and was truly fortunate to meet such a great family that helped me out so much.

After making a quick stop at a scenic overlook, I descended the 1000+ feet over the course of a few miles to Fort Robinson. A sign warning of a downgrade in Nebraska?! My preconcieved notion that it was going to be as flat as a pancake has hardly been true at all. I also haven't seen a stalk of corn yet.

As I arrived into Crawford, a woman stopped her car and offered me some cold water. I thanked her, told her I was finishing up for the day and explained my plans of running across the country. Two brothers, John and Bob Limbach, outside their garage heard me and we started in conversation I explained the Grant singlet I was wearing was from the same high school as the one Ndamukong Suh attended-a popular piece of trivia here in the heart of Cornhusker country. The fact that his mom was my first grade teacher at Irvington Elementary is gravy.

After discussing my plans to camp in the city park-a very nice one from what I'd heard-John offered his home he rents to visitors of Crawford, the Southside Cottage, for me to stay in for the night. Again amazed by the hospitality of western Nebraska, I gladly accepted. During the tour of the house, John's wife Catie arrived. They highly recommended the chicken at Staab's drive-in just a block away.

While waiting for my meal at Staab's I dropped my strawberry milkshake on the sidewalk after trying to hold it by the lid. It was pretty devastating. Because I offered to hose off the mess, I was offered a refill.

A tour of downtown and relaxing at the house for the rest of the night set me up well for the longest run of the week tomorrow-36 miles.

Saddle Rock and the Legend Buttes outside of Crawford

Day 52-Lusk to Harrison, NE (31 Miles)

After a great breakfast with Gene and Joan it was time to pack up for a late start hitting the road. Gene called up John Herren, the owner of the True Value hardware store in Harrison, to let him know I was on the way. Gene told me to stop in and introduce myself. I told him I would, fixed a flat, and hit the road.

Not even one mile out of town, Gene's F-350 pulled up to my side with a lady in the passenger seat. Gene had driven to the Lusk Herald office and picked up an editor to have my story covered in the weekly paper. I did the interview on the side of the road and continued down the narrow shoulder to the Nebraska border. The highways in Wyoming had been so good for the entire state until the final stretch.

22 miles later I could see the sign welcoming me to Nebraska. The road magically gained a nice wide shoulder at this point. I ate my last meal in Wyoming-a sack lunch packed for me by Joan with sandwiches, chips, fruit, Pepsi and cookies. I reveled in the accomplishment of crossing another state for a little bit, then left to finish the final nine miles to Harrison.

My welcome to Harrison moment occurred right outside of town when a man doubled back in his pickup truck and offered me money for my cause. Kirk, from Glenrock, Wyoming, had seen me earlier down the road and in the Casper Star. I told him I wasn't running for a cause but he told me I'd need it for food, drinks, or a hotel room on him. I gladly accepted.

I walked into the town of 251 and found my way to the Herren Bros. Hardware Store. I met Jim first at an adjacent lot with the loader and later John, who Gene told me to meet. After a bit of conversation he directed me to the city park where camping under the shade trees was free and said he'd come check up on me when he was done closing shop. It was a very nice area and was reassuring to have a place where I could legitimately stay.

Not much more than a half hour later, John showed up with his wife Terry, daughter Quinn, and grandson Pacen-who lived in Lusk but was in Harrison helping for the summer. They told me that they had decided they were going to help me out tremendously by putting me up in the local bed and breakfast and taking me to dinner. The Nebraska sign welcomed me to the good life, which would have been the city park, but the Herren's made it even better. It's impossible to imagine a better introduction to a new state.

After dinner at the Jory Bob's Longhorn Saloon, John and Pacen walked me to the Harrison House Hotel across the street and got me all set up for the night. I couldn't get the cart up the front steps so John let me lock it up in the shop to pick it up in the morning. I checked into my room on the second floor, showered, and crashed for the night hoping to not have any encounters with ghosts in the old railroad hotel built in 1886.

Of all the sights in this country, the view of seeing a town over a hill has become one of the best 

Day 51-Lost Springs to Lusk (25 Miles)

The coal trains led to by far the worst night sleep of this trip. Like clockwork, every 20 minutes a train would cross Main St. and blow its horn. The city park was less than 100 yards away, and each blow of the whistle would cause a minor earthquake. We had started the trip with earplugs and I was really regretting not having them anymore. I don't know how much they would have done with that noise anyway. The trains run like that 24 hrs a day and the amount of coal hauled is mind boggling.

I prepared for the day back at the picnic shelter where several contractors working on a natural gas pipeline from Lusk to Douglas stopped by for a bathroom break. They had traveled in from all parts of the country to work on this project and paid respect to what I was doing by giving me snacks and water.

Today's 25 miles felt a lot more normal compared to yesterday. I arrived to Manville for lunch and later to Lusk without any trouble at all. In Lusk I met up with Gene and Joan Lenz, good friends of my grandparents from the University of Wyoming, who would be taking me in for the night. After a bit of conversation Gene asked me if I had ever been to Glendo, which I had not. Our agenda was set until dinner time then as we left to make a tour of the town where my grandpa grew up 45 miles away.

I have been to Darby, MT, Bennington, ID, and Holland, MI, all of the towns where my three other grandparents were raised. It's difficult to imagine anyone taking more pride in where they are from than my grandpa Trenholm being from Glendo Wyoming. After a little searching we found the ranch and two different homes he grew up on. The current resident, Lloyd, gave us a tour of the home and described all of the renovations he had recently done and what it was like when he starting living there. We later met up with his mother, Sandra, who was a few years behind my grandpa in school, but knew him well.

On the way back, we stopped into town we stopped into Rooster's bar to see a picture of the previous owner who my grandpa had known. We then took the long way home by crossing over the dam and seeing the great country off of the highway. After getting back I talked to my grandpa about the visit, and was given several stories of the area.

When we returned we went to Gene and Joan's daughter's house across the street for dinner. Jay and Leslie cooked a great meal of corn, potatoes, halibut, and zucchini. This great dinner, great company and a great night's sleep (despite still hearing some coal trains further in the distance) provided me with the energy to cross into Nebraska tomorrow.

My grandfather's old home getting some new siding

Day 50-Douglas to Lost Springs (26 Miles)

Staying true to the traditional routine of a rare stay in a hotel room, I savored the environment until checkout time at 11 am. Soon after I walked through downtown Douglas during the parade for the state fair. I only caught a glimpse of Smokey the Bear on the Forest Service float before I turned off to avoid the crowds. I walked to the start of Antelope Rd. where I started running for the day.

It became quickly clear why the road got its name as at least 20 antelope lined the first half mile. It was still early enough in the day where persistence hunting crossed my mind as a possibility for food if I were to run out of peanut M&Ms. These thoughts soon faded as the day took its toll.

The rolling hills of the road became relentless. Despite probably climbing over 1000 ft total on the day, it was a net elevation loss. All of the energy I had just put into climbing a hill was quickly wasted as I flew down the other side. My normal strategy of putting my head down and grinding it out, periodically checking on my progress, was thwarted by not having a shoulder to run on. Running in the lane of traffic, I had to constantly be staring at the crest of the hill to ensure I could get out of the way of any oncoming traffic from the oil/gas crews.

After the massacist roller coaster the road turned to gravel. I had been misinformed by a local at the College Inn who said the road was paved the entire way. It was well packed gravel, however, and didn't present too many additional challenges. During breaks, it was funny to look back and see the swerving of the tire tracks left by the cart. Some of the side to side movement was to find better traction, but most of it was because I was so tired and couldn't run in a straight line.

I arrived to the paved highway and later to Sawnee and found I had 5 miles to go to Lost Springs. I'd only gone 20 miles?! It felt like I had done 35, I may have been in a little trouble.

I trudged on to find the town with a posted population of 4 only to find the local bar and cafe is only open during hunting season. I ditched the cart at the city park and headed to the second hand store. Here I met Art who took pity on the weary traveler and gave me a Coke after I had spent all of my remaining cash in Douglas. A few minutes into talking with Art I had to excuse myself for fresh air as I felt I was going to pass out. I walked outside and threw up around the corner before heading back to the shade of the covered area to rest.

After feeling a bit better, I went back to Art to let him know I was alright. I learned that population of the town was now actually only 2, a new record low despite the old sign saying there was only 1. That mistake was made because only one citizen had filled out their census form. The city was pretty well up kept with only one run-down building and well maintained parks and roads. There was a statue commemorating the town as being the smallest incorporated town in the United States during the bicentennial, and I would be surprised if it isn't still the smallest town in the whole country now.

I was warned of midnight sprinklers in the nice grass of the city park, so I set up camp behind town hall. I wasn't worried much of any trouble since half of the town's population gave me permission to stay there.

Tracks from the cart on Antelope Rd.

Day 49-Glenrock to Douglas (26 Miles)

Desiree had to leave for work with the Girl Scouts in Casper pretty early in the morning. She left me with two boxes of Girl Scout cookies as a parting gift. I felt super special to have them since they are in their off-season. After she left, her grandmother Judy cooked me a great breakfast that I enjoyed with her and Josh. Soon it was time to hit the road and head to Douglas.

After a few miles it was time to rodeo I-25. This visit to Wyoming was the first time I had heard rodeo as a verb, and it readily applied to interstate running. I was able to jump off onto a state highway which took me into Douglas after about 15 miles.

I checked into the hotel room my grandmother had booked for me after plans to stay with family in town fell through. The hotel was completely packed because of the state fair being in full swing that weekend. I was booked in one of the last rooms for the night.

After getting a little recovery with a nap and shower I ventured downtown where it became clear that I was in the Jackalope capital of the world. The famed creature had several statues, murals, and even appeared on the railing of the bridge spanning the North Platte.

I wandered around town a bit before settling on the College Inn as the location of dinner. I was ahead of the rush that was surely soon to follow the evening rodeo concluding. The bartender served me up a DiGiornio pizza and I inhaled the entire thing. After getting a little history of the place she took me upstairs to tour the old whorehouse.

I returned back to the hotel room, admiring the lights of the state fair over the river as I crossed the bridge, and relaxed for the rest of the evening. I felt unusually tired for some reason, especially considering it was a pretty short day. Hopefully tomorrow would be better.

The famed Jackalope over the North Platte River

Day 48-Casper to Glenrock (29 Miles)

After an amazing of morning of sleeping in a little bit, an enormous breakfast of eggs, bacon and pancakes and preparing the cart, it came time for Russell and I to wish our wonderful hosts goodbye and hit the road.

We jumped on the North Platte River bike path for the first eight miles or so which took us to the east end of town. I was recognized from the article once by a cyclist passing by. We stopped underneath a bridge to take cover from the rain a few miles in where we talked with a local also taking shelter on his ride to Mills.

Following the bike path came perhaps the sketchiest stretch of road in the entire trip. I've come to notice that fringes of towns are perhaps the most dangerous. The open highway has a shoulder, the cities have sidewalks, but the transition area has neither. After surviving this mile or so, we were rewarded with a nice frontage road before jumping on the highway to Glenrock.

The longest run Russell had done up to that point was 13 miles, and we more than doubled it today with our 28. He finished like a champ and was given a giant cinnamon roll cake after another customer learned we had run from Casper that day. We ate our massive cowboy burgers and enjoyed a few refills of soda.

Troy and Jodi drove all the way out to Glenrock to pick Russell back up and take him back to their home in Casper. I didn't have to drive all of the way back to Denver but I did have to run another mile or so to the home I would be staying. Desiree, a friend of Jeff, the guy who wrote the article in the Casper Star, was generous enough to let me stay with her for the night after Jeff asked her if she could help out. Yet another small world connection occurred when I found out she had taken a class with Mary Donahue, my host in Chadron, at Chadron State College.

After showering, I went with Desiree to her cousin's birthday party on the other side of town. Here I ate another dinner, cupcakes and ice-cream while enjoying the great company of her extended family. We returned home, watched Netflix and I met her cousin Josh who had just finished up with his work at the city rec center. I crashed on their super comfortable couch to rest up for the run to Douglas tomorrow.

Russell and I at the (almost) end of the run

Day 47-Rest in Casper

The day started off with a walk to Wal-Mart to resupply and invest in a new Chromebook. I was looking to buy a netbook, but apparently they don't really exist anymore. I'm a little behind the times. I took my new purchase to the classiest McDonalds I've been to and caught up on the ol' blog for an hour or so before heading back to the Raicevich home.

At noon I had an interview for the sports-writer with the Casper Star Tribune. My mom had tipped them off of me coming to Casper and I agreed with the hope that it may score me a place to stay down the road.

Soon after the interview my friend from Oregon State, Russell Benson, joined up with me after driving up from Denver. He had just finished an internship out in Virginia and wanted to join me for a day before he started grad school for the year at the School of Mines in Golden. During dinner yet another small world connection occurred as we learned that Troy had worked with Russell's brother on an oil drilling rig in Colorado awhile ago.

Soon after dinner and conversation it was time for bed. I moved in from the guest room in the garage to the couch in the living room to stay cool.

Unfortunately the only picture I took on my day off. Removing one letter really made the device pretty morbid.

Day 46-Goldeneye Reservoir to Casper (25 Miles)

The coyotes got up an hour earlier this morning, getting up at 2 am. The ten million birds served as my alarm clock and had me up and moving at 7. After walking the mile back to the highway, I was ready to complete the 25 miles into my day off in Casper. I could very well feel the past two days in my legs.

10 miles into the run I ran into a slurry seal operation that had traffic reduced to one lane. It was nice running with a coned barrier and a full lane of traffic plus a shoulder to myself. The cost, however, was that my shoes picked up about a half inch of freshly poured tar and gravel. I distracted a flagger for a couple of minutes with my story and she was promptly yelled at by her partner for almost allowing a truck to drive onto a closed road. 

A few miles past the airport, I stopped at a Taco John's-the first fast food restaurant since Jackson. I drank at least a half gallon of cold Dr. Pepper with my small cup. Free refills didn't stand much of a chance. 

I proceeded to complete the four miles south to the Raicevich home where I would be staying for the next couple of days. After a mile of getting blasted by loose gravel by semi-trucks, I found a bike path that followed the North Platte River. It took me right to the road I was looking for and arrived at their home and met Olivia, their daughter. 

After an awesome dinner of pizza and the great company of Troy, Jodi and their three kids, I went to the guest room in the garage and crashed on one of the most comfortable beds of the trip. I had survived the Wyoming flats, the last real desolate stretch of this entire run. Having wonderful hosts to welcome me back to civilization was a great plus.

Cool statue outside of Fort Casper

Day 45-Hiland to Goldeneye Reservoir (35 Miles)

I bid farewell to Mary, one of the owners of the Bright Spot, after fixing two flat tires on the stroller. Two of my previous patch jobs hadn't quite held up. I thought I would only be doing 20 miles to Powder River, and it was crazy that that distance would be less than half of what I did yesterday. I again was in no rush to leave as I had a town of 44 people waiting for me to camp in with no services. 

I started by running the six miles to the highway rest area where I took an extended break to catch some extra rest. As I left from the rest area a truck with US Government plates slowed down and the driver asked me to stop as he wanted to talk to me. Great, I thought, now I'm trouble. Turns out it was Alan, my future host in Chadron, Nebraska, who was passing by for his work with the Forest Service. It was great talking to him for a bit and look forward to a longer visit next week. 

I ran next to Hell's Half Acre, pictured below. There was no indication that such a canyon was coming up, just this other worldly drop-off on the side of the road. It was interesting to learn that Indians would drive herds of buffalo off of these cliffs and that parts of the movie Starship Troopers were filmed here. I met a family from southern Michigan travelling the state of Wyoming who offered me a place to stay there if I ever passed through. 

I got to Powder River only a few miles after. It was only about 2 o'clock and there wasn't very much to do. I decided to roll the dice and shoot for a lake about 15 miles east without knowing much about it other than it existed. That would make a 35 mile day, after a 41 mile one no less, but it would set me up nicely for the run into Casper the next day. 

Ice/refrigeration joined the list of everyday things that have taken on new levels of appreciation, joining showers, home-cooked meals, and beds. As the temperature rose to 90 and the sun got to my back, all of my water and lemonade got really warm and disgusting. I still had to down it though as I couldn't get dehydrated. I was really hoping someone at the lake would have ice to make everything more tolerable to drink. I didn't have such luck. 

I got to the turnoff to the lake and walked the mile gravel road to the reservoir. It was pretty nice place and I was surprised at the lack of mosquitoes. There was no indication that camping was not allowed, so I set up shop and rested for the night. A rain and lightning free evening ensued. There were, however, coyote and rattlesnake sightings-the first live snake of the trip.

Neil Patrick Harris didn't like to be called Doogie during filming

Day 44-Shoshoni to Hiland (41 Miles)

Checkout time from the Desert Inn was 11 am and I had no intention of leaving much sooner than that. I slept in, ate, went back to sleep, showered, watched TV, and fell back asleep. It was fantastic! I had decided to splurge on a hotel after three tough days behind me and three tougher ones ahead. 

At 11 I left the friendly confines of my room, the last one available the day before, to buy a quick lunch of gas station pizza. I ate it in the parking lot with about a dozen bikers who were returning from Sturgis. 

A gate at the edge of town that would close the highway down if the road was too rough in winter was the starting point of the run. Starting out had that same pit in the stomach feeling of jumping off of a cliff. This cliff was 100 miles tall and I wouldn't land until Casper. This would be by far the most desolate 100 miles of the trip thus far. 

After about 25 miles in, after stopping every five miles for food, water, and stretching, I got it in my head that I was going to make it to Hiland. The owners of the Silver Sage Saloon in Shoshoni (there's a tongue-twister for ya!) instructed me that I could camp along the highway almost anywhere since it was BLM land. They told me the Natrona-Fremont county line was 32 miles away while Hiland was 41. The prospect of a store being open, despite it being a Sunday evening, sounded a lot better than camping on the barren sides of the road. 

There may have been a few self motivational speeches along the way, but the last 16 miles got down. The town with a posted population of 10 was hidden by a hill until the last mile of the run. Seeing the two trees in front of the store in the middle of nothingness was a giant relief. As I stopped at the top of the hill, I was offered a ride into town. I appreciated the gesture but I could make this last mile.

Never have I been so happy on this run to see a store and restaurant open than the Bright Spot. I downed an ice-cream bar and two gatorades before inhaling a bacon cheeseburger all while enjoying the company of four great Wyomians. 

At about 9:30 it was time to set up camp behind the four room motel. The moon was almost full and bright as it had been all trip. It was refreshing to camp out with a clear sky for the first time in what feels like forever.

The most beautiful sight of the Wyoming flats

Day 43-Ocean Lake to Shoshoni (26 Miles)

Today I found an Airhead on the side of the road. It was green. I thought it was green apple but it was watermelon. It didn't taste very good.

Gross!

Day 42-Crowheart to Ocean Lake (39 Miles)

39 miles is no joke! It had been since running into Idaho Falls that I'd done anything that long, and we had a rest day the next day then. I still had 4 days to go for rest this time around.

After one last visit to the Crowheart store I continued down my good friend Highway 26. The first source of human interaction was about 12 miles in at the rest area where two families from Green River gave me another bag of cherries. 

At the marathon point I decided to take a nap under the only tree in what seemed like 100 miles at the St. Edwards Catholic Church near the turnoff for State Highway 133. It was a beautiful church, and the lady in the adjacent home offered it to me as a camp site for the night. I politely declined as I still had a half marathon to go. 

I turned up 133 for five miles before turning onto 134 where the dogs were as bad as they've been all trip. There was a family whose pack of three had a little strategy of coming at me from different angles, but all but one let up pretty quickly.

I arrived at Ocean Lake's first camping area where I called a friend of Tyler and Casey's to potentially camp in their yard. I left her a message and was driven out from the lake side by the bugs. 

I proceeded to the house, but no one was home and decided to check out the second camp site directly across the road. This one was much better and had a great spot to swim and rinse out my foul smelling clothes. 

I set up my tent and cooked dinner at a fire pit overlooking the lake (see below). I watched the thunder-less lightning strikes in the distance in awe but knew they were headed my way. Fantastic! At least this time around, unlike in Moran, I had a permanent structure to hide in if worse came to worst. 

I used my new tent for the first time and it felt like a five star hotel compared to my previous one. Fortunately lightning never arrived, but really high winds and rain did. The tent handled it like a champ.

As gross as the chair was, it was quite relaxing!

Day 41-Dubois to Crowheart (30 Miles)

If every morning could start off as good as eggs, bacon and toast cooked by Jeff, this trip would be easy. After saying goodbye to my wonderful hosts Jeff and Lynne I resumed the torture to my legs by venturing 30 miles down the road to Crowheart. I assumed the town was named after the heart of a bird, but it actually came to be because of a Shoshone chief placing the heart of a Crow Indian on a stake to celebrate victory in a battle over hunting grounds. 

About 13 miles in, right after crossing into the Wind River Indian Reservation, I encountered a group working on changing a tire on a camper at a turnout for taking pictures. A couple from Lander was helping a woman from Minnesota on a road trip. I stopped and asked if I could be of any help, but they were already finished jacking up the camper and were ready to put on a spare. Mrs. Valentine, from Lander, offered me an entire large bag of cherries from the farmer's market in Riverton which I graciously accepted. 

Another younger couple from the Washington DC area pulled into the turnout. They were actually on their way to moving to Beaverton, close to home for me. They very kindly left me with a bag of apple slices and a bottle of veggie juice. I left the scene soon after the county sheriff left from checking in on the repair process. Mr. Valentine told me I'd be alright if I kept the wind at my back and the Lord in front of me. 

The remainder of the run flew by as I rolled into the Crowheart store. A younger couple left in a '78 Ford pickup only to return a few minutes later to ask, "Hey, you wanna go to Lander?" Of course I did! I piled into the pickup with Casey, Tyler, and their dog Otie to make the 40+ mile drive. 

Casey and Tyler were amazing company as they bought me a burger at the Lander Bar and introduced me to the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) in Lander. Casey had been a student there for a semester in Patagonia. While we waited for Tyler to visit his mother in town, Casey and I flipped through a photo book of Wyoming at the NOLS outlet store. I thought I had seen most of Wyoming's splendor with the Tetons, Pinnacles, and Painted Valley, but I haven't really even scratched the surface. This state makes the short list of places to come back to to explore. 

On the way home we stopped at a mission outside of Ft. Washakie I thought my great grandmother, Virginia Trenholm, may have worked at as she documented the histories of the Shoshone and Arapahoe tribes. It turns out her mission was 20 miles away, but it was an interesting stop none-the-less. 

Back in Crowheart, Tyler asked me if I'd ever seen a horse shod. I answered no and he asked if I wanted to. I said alright, despite mishearing "shot," and thinking this could be interesting. Tyler replaced a horseshoe that had fallen off while Casey prepared a lucky horseshoe for me as a parting gift. 

They dropped me back off at the fire station where I would spend the night in a covered outdoor picnic area.

Casey, Otie, and Tyler