West. Day 17.

June 25, 2016

Gackle to Hazelton, North Dakota

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How much does it cost to bicycle self-supported across the country? During my first bicycle tour in 1974, I got by on $10 a day.

Me and Robin, where we departed ways at the end of our Michigan trip in 1974.

In 1976, The B'76 basic camping group fee was $675. This included all camping fees, food, maps, and leadership. I paid an additional $50 for an emergency fund, $10 for a guaranteed refund, and $2 for a bike box at the end of the trip. I carried $1000 in traveler's checks to spend on extras like souvenirs, postage, bar tabs, and snacks (ice cream shops and pie cook-off events were favorites). I spent every penny. The ride took 84 days, so I averaged almost $21 a day.

I did not factor in the cost of my plane tickets. I can't remember the fare from Detroit to Oregon but found the receipt from Virginia back to Michigan. Plane fare from Williamsburg to Detroit was $64, plus $16 for my boxed bike.

My B'76 paid-in-full receipt.

That's not the case now. Articles on the ACA website reported touring cyclists spent $15 to $50 a day. That's quite a spread. In 2016, I budgeted $30 to $35. As I neared Montana and considered taking the train home, the cost of a ticket and paying to box and ship my bike might have been cheaper than riding.

But riding would be priceless...

To save money, some riders use a service called WarmShowers, an online community for bicyclists where hosts advertise free lodging at their homes. Other riders "stealth" camp, stopping after dark to set up camp in out-of-the-way places.

Being alone, I wasn't comfortable using WarmShowers. Or maybe it was a lack of trust in Internet meeting-land. Sleeping just anywhere didn't feel as safe as using camping facilities listed on the ACA maps. Mom might call me a risk-taker, but I prefer my risks to be calculated. For example, during the years I rode home from work at midnight, I planned evasion routes if I was ever followed and rehearsed using my bike or helmeted head as weapons in the event of an attack.

I was followed. Once.

An unfamiliar truck turned behind me down a deserted industrial park street. A couple of quick turns and it was still behind me. I jumped a curb onto a sidewalk, cut through a neighborhood, and lost the menacing vehicle. Instead of going right home, I cycled to my sister's house, a block beyond mine. If there weren't lights on, I would continue another mile to the police department.

Inside lights on, I ditched my bike in their backyard and ran back to the front door. Squeezed inside the screen door, I beat against the inside door. It opened. I stumbled into my surprised brother-in-law.

"What's going on?" he said.

"Quick, shut the door," I said, catching my breath. "Someone followed me from work but I lost him."

The sound of a vehicle slowing drew a gasp. I peeked out the window. "Oh my god, it's the truck, he's getting out!" My brother-in-law locked the door. "Shit, it's him." Him, my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend.

I launched out. "What the hell were you doing?"

He laughed. "I borrowed this truck and went to catch you after work, but the way you took off I knew you had no idea it was me. So, I followed to see what you'd do. That was great how you lost me. I went to your house, but when you didn't show up, I came over here."

Damn idiot. Nearly gave me a heart attack, but at least I knew my plan would work.

From my B'76 journal:

6/11/76

Had a hell of a ride over White Bird Hill yesterday in the rain but after we were over it stopped. The rest was fantastic! Rolling hills through beautiful river country. We got to camp later but we got to sleep in TIPIS [sic] in Syringa, Idaho. Bought $30 worth of stuff to send home. Feel great--made it over all the switchbacks without stopping.