In Conclusion
After 4,637 km traveled, 24,776 meters climbed, and plenty of sunshine and wind, it’s time for a look over the shoulder.
At an average distance of 136 km/day, it’s one of the fastest rides I’ve ever done, and at 729 meters of climbing per day, also one of the flattest. No surprise that those two go together. I’d also consider it one of the least scenic, and once again, it’s not surprising that coincides with the flattest.
That isn’t to say there wasn’t any good scenery. The Black Hills of South Dakota and badlands in North Dakota were highlights, and other areas like the Pecos River basin in Texas and the Flint Hills in Kansas were better than one might expect. The plains have a certain understated beauty to them. The main problem is it gets repetitive.
At this point, I don’t recommend the Great Plains Gravel Route. Of the four long-distance unpaved tours I’ve done, the order goes:
1. Western Wildlands
2. Great Divide
...
5. Pony Express
...
8. Great Plains
All of them have their merits, and I don’t regret doing any of them. But this one was only…OK. If you've already done the other three and you can't get enough gravel, then maybe.
Much like the Pony Express, one of the biggest problems was the frequency and sheer number of unnecessary turns per day. I previously spoke about it in one of the ride’s journal entries; the short version is it’s not fun to spend most of your day glued to your phone, worried you might get lost. Instead, it’s much better when you can ride without a care for hours at a time. The route designers should more closely adhere to the principle that the simplest solution is often the best one.
Because this is a brand-new route, the other problem was the quality of the roads was…mixed, at best. The route is intended to be ridden on a gravel bike, but I don’t know how that’s possible given all the mud and sand. Teeder's tires are twice as wide as those found on many gravel bikes, and she still couldn't manage.
The provided route information also could’ve been better. Several times, the route planners put more effort into recommending steakhouses and sushi bars than into telling us where to get water, what the road surface is like, or where you can camp. I suppose there are a few people whose 1st priority is fine dining, but it’s literally impossible to do a bike tour without drinking water, sleeping, and riding a bike. That’s what people need to know about.
I didn’t expect to see many bike tourists this summer, and that turned out to be correct. Nearly every time I left the official route, I saw other cyclists, and not once did I see anyone riding on the Great Plains route. That alone should indicate how desirable the official route is. No one wants to ride there.
By comparison, I saw plenty of people on the Cowboy Trail and the Mickelson Trail. Rail-trails are the Holy Grail of bike traveling. They manage to be fun, easy to ride/navigate, and memorable, all at the same time. Normally, it’s impossible to have more than two of those. The Great Plains route went out of its way to avoid these, favoring a zig-zag pattern involving dozens of turns on roads of dubious quality.
Could an enjoyable Great Plains route be put together? I think so, but it would always be behind the Western Wildlands and Great Divide, due to scenery alone. If a flat off-road route is something you’d like to do, your route is the Great American Rail-Trail, if it ever gets finished. On average, only 20 miles are added each year, and there are at least 1,650 miles to go. At that rate, it'll be another 82+ years.
If it were a highway though, it’d be done in five years, max, despite astronomically higher cost, materials, and labor. Because 4.2 million miles of roadways aren’t enough, but having even one long-distance bike path can wait.
If you think you want to do something like the Great Plains Route, I’d recommend coming up with your own route which stitches together multiple rail-trails, many of them in the same part of the country. The Mickelson, Cowboy, Standing Bear, Flint Hills, and Katy trails are all only 1-2 days’ ride apart from one another, sometimes less. A few days more of riding and you can hit the Ohio-to-Erie, GAP, and C&O trails in the eastern US. In total, that route would probably be about 70% well-maintained gravel (aka rail-trails), with quiet paved roads in between.
As usual, the rest of the summer involves personal projects and preparing for the school year. I want to finally get a proper garage organization system for my tools and bike parts, one that isn’t simply dumping stuff into cardboard boxes.
During the upcoming school year, I plan to get into marathons again. At 41 years of age, I’ll be one of the youngest in the Masters division, and I don’t see why I can’t win it in a few races. Likely ones include Dallas, Houston, and Cowtown. San Antonio, Austin, and El Paso are all possibilities. And is there any “destination” marathon in Texas?
Next summer marks the 50th anniversary of the famed 1976 “Bikecentennial” (and therefore, the 250th anniversary of the United States). There’s already chatter going about making it a huge year for the TransAmerica Route. I’ve got to be a part of one of the biggest bike touring events in history. And what could be more fun than riding coast-to-coast with a few thousand adventurous, like-minded people?
At this point, I’ve done essentially all the stateside bike touring I want to do. The Bikecentennial Anniversary ride is the perfect swan song, a love letter to bike touring in my homeland before I begin touring more often overseas.
June
