The day started with Continental breakfast at our Motel 8. Nicole and I were chewing bagels when I noticed a large cat walking along some trees behind the motel. It was a really large cat, so I got up and took a closer look. This cat was at least two feet tall, no household pussy cat. It had to be a cougar or mountain lion. I watched it walk the length of the property and cross the highway. One big cat.

We hit the road to sunny skies and a nice temperature. We made good time all morning and stopped for lunch in Culbertson, a town of 291 people. We sat at a small gas station and had our usual sandwich and Gatorade. A teenage girl asked me if I was with the van that had writing on the window saying “bicycle ride across America.” I was, after all, wearing a bicycle helmet, cycling shorts and wild color cycling jersey with a large graphic image of a bicycle. I told her what we were doing and she asked how we liked Nebraska. Fortunately, she answered for me before I could speak. I think the whole conversation was an ill-planned ploy for her to admire my finely-sculpted legs in really tight shorts.

Back on the road, all we pass are fields, cattle and an occasional house. The wind soon picked up and it was coming from the wrong direction, east. Soon it was blowing 15-20 MPH right in our face. We keep pushing.

All afternoon was the same. Wind in our face. We stopped at a mini-mart in Indianola that has about six tables inside with half a dozen old farmers sitting at two of them, having their afternoon coffee. I noticed them giving me a hard look when I walked in. They too were admiring my finely-sculpted legs in really tight shorts.

As we were leaving I stopped to chat with them. They knew right away I was riding a bicycle. One fellow asked where were headed. “New Jersey.” Another guy about blew his coffee out on the table as he laughed. We chatted about the weather and other stuff. As we left, I assured them we wouldn't make it to New Jersey today and they laughed.

While mounting our bikes, one of the old guys came out to get a little more info about our ride. He was classic looking farmer in his late 60's. His cap promoting a seed company was slightly tilted to one side, just the way it should be. His friendly smile and curious nature reminded me of many farmers I knew growing up. I bet his name was Buck. He just wanted to know how far we are riding each day. He looked at my bicycle and I now wish I would have told him it is made of carbon fiber and weighs only 17 pounds. He would have liked to know that. It felt good to give the guys something different to talk about during their coffee tomorrow.

We continued to ride into strong headwinds, making riding very difficult. After 88 miles, we had to stop and catch our breath. We pulled into a small park and sprawled out. We only had 12 miles to go but knew they were going to be tough. As we mounted our bikes the wind didn't let up. I was running out of energy and trying every trick I know to keep my feet moving. I tried to concentrate on pushing and pulled the pedals. I tried standing while pedaling. I tried farting to get me going. I got low in the saddle and grabbed the “drops” of the handlebars to slice through the wind with as little wind resistance as possible. I think each trick lasting only a minute and I'm not sure if it worked but finally the odometer hit 100 miles and we were done for the day.

Nicole is happy about moving into a new time zone.

Cattle graze on the plains.