The Old Guy Bicycle Blog

I wrecked on day one.

It was random. A freak accident. The kind of thing you can’t plan for and can’t really explain. But it stopped the tour before it even began.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t finish a cycling tour.

And that sticks with you.

Why I’m Not Riding RAGBRAI

For a while, I thought I’d pivot.

Maybe I’d ride RAGBRAI. Maybe Oklahoma Freewheel. Maybe something organized. Structured. Safer.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized something simple:

I’m not a group rider.

I don’t thrive in crowds, chaos, and “event energy.” I’m a plodder.

I ride steady. I ride alone. I like long stretches of quiet road and the rhythm of my own cadence. That’s not rebellion — it’s temperament.

Why the Mississippi River

I live in the desert.

I’ve ridden thousands of miles through wind, dust, and endless horizon. And after driving back home from California last summer, I realized something:

I wanted green.

I wanted shade. I wanted river bends. I wanted history. I wanted small towns with character.

So I chose the Mississippi River.

This isn’t about conquering the river. It’s about riding beside it.

The Plan

This June 1st, I’ll start in Le Crescent, Minnesota.

Within minutes I’ll cross into La Crosse, Wisconsin. From there, I’ll follow the Mississippi south for seven days — roughly 65–70 miles per day — finishing Year One in Bowling Green, Missouri.

Year Two will continue from Bowling Green down toward Memphis, Tennessee.

Year Three will take me from Memphis all the way to the Gulf.

• Three summers.
• Three 450-mile segments.
• One river.

Solo — But Smarter

I am still a solo cyclist.

That part hasn’t changed. But I did make one adjustment.

My son will drive a support truck.

He’s a professor in upstate New York and has the first part of the summer off. We don’t see each other as much as we’d like. When I told him the plan, he said this would be a great way for us to catch up and spend time together.

Here’s how it will work:

• We’ll wake up in a hotel.
• I’ll roll out early after my high-protein chocolate drink and tell him, “I’ll meet you in 10–15 miles.”
• He’ll leapfrog ahead, scout road conditions, and check for problems.

And if I’m between towns and I’ve had enough for the day, I can load the bike and move forward. The next morning, he can drive me back to the exact spot I stopped.

Some touring cyclists think the beauty is being forced to reach the next town. After last year’s accident, this is the beauty for me: margin, flexibility, and control.

It helps my wife feel better — because I won’t be truly alone out there — and it lowers the risk if something goes sideways. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still riding the miles myself.

I’m Not Fast. I’m Strong.

Let’s be clear about something.

I’m not fast.

I just keep going.

I plod. That’s who I am.

When I take that first pedal stroke on June 1st, I’ll be picturing Bowling Green. I’ll be wondering what’s between here and there. I look forward to the adventures — both the good and the bad.

No Tour Ends Without Problems

No tour ends without problems.

There will be days that are tough. There will be wind. There will be something that breaks or doesn’t go as planned.

And there will be one perfect morning that makes it all worth it. That’s touring.

About “Failure”

I had never failed to finish a tour before last year. That matters to me.

But this Mississippi ride isn’t revenge. It’s continuity.

I am who I am, and I will finish, because it’s who I am.

Training Starts Now

I already have a solid base, but like every rider, I backed off a little in December and early January. Rest is part of the game.

When the time changes in March, I’ll start what I call stacking — riding 20–25 miles in the morning and another 20–25 in the evening. That’s how I get strong fast: go, rest, go, rest.

Then I’ll layer in back-to-back longer days as we get closer to June.

Not to prove anything. Just to be ready.

June 1

There won’t be a ceremony.

Just a quiet hotel morning. A high-protein chocolate drink. Helmet. First pedal stroke.

Green river to the side. Seven days ahead. Bowling Green somewhere down the line.

I don’t ride to rediscover myself. I already know who I am.

I ride because it’s in my DNA. And this summer, I’m heading south.

Coming next: Over the next few months, I’ll be writing about my preparation and training, the safety and logistics of riding with a roaming support truck, the gear choices that matter most for a seven-day tour, and all the little decisions that determine whether a ride like this succeeds.

If you want to see exactly how I’m training—especially my double-ride stacking method—read: Training for 7 Days of Bicycle Touring at 70 (My Double-Day Method) . That post lays out the real structure I’m using to prepare for seven straight days in the saddle without burning myself out before June even gets here.

And starting June 1st, I’ll post daily updates from the road as I work my way down the Mississippi toward Bowling Green.

View My Core Cycling Gear