Day 37: Entering the Mountains

American Fork, Utah to Heber City, Utah

The day I’d been awaiting with a mix of excitement and a bit of fear, is finally upon us.

Time to make a left turn and head into the mountains on our way to and through the Rockies.

Now, if you remember from my earlier posts – I’m riding a beautiful hand crafted steel racing bicycle that’s built for speed.  Speed yes, but NOT for hills.  Normally when you ride hills, you want to shift your gears to the largest possible rear wheel gear (mine are ALL absolutely tiny – oops) and the absolutely smallest front/pedal gear (mine are all absolutely HUGE – oops, strike two).  So while most people “ration” out their gears, saving lower gears for the steepest and hardest parts of the hills, I have pretty much no choice but to drop down into “first” gear as soon as the hill begins – and then just “gut it out” praying my legs are strong enough to get me to the top without having to push the bicycle up the mountain.

So as I rode straight into the heart of some major Utah mountains looming ahead of me – I was a bit concerned about what lay ahead.

For the most part – my concerns (for now) were unnecessary.  For most of the day I rode through beautiful winding hills, gliding gracefully between the mountains through some incredibly beautiful scenery (waterfalls and mountain peaks and rock cliffs, etc.)  A bicycle riders dream.

And then I got cocky.
I didn’t realize it, but the town of “Sundance, Utah” home of Robert Redford and the Sundance Film Festival was right off my mountain road from Provo to Heber City.

And as I approached the road that turned off to Sundance, I thought “What the heck – let’s go see where Robert Redford lives…”  After all, it was ONLY a 2 mile detour from the path I was riding.  How bad could a mere 2 mile detour be.

OK, remember those racing (non-hill climbing) gears I told you about.  Well I was about to find out EXACTLY how bat a mere 2 mile detour could be.

As I started up the hill everything seemed normal and comfortable – a nice gentle climb, a $200,000 Ferrari passing me on the way into town – you know, just your average day on The Dog Cancer Ride Across America.

But then the hill got nasty – and it took every ounce of energy I had – huffing and puffing and shouting and swearing (it helps, really) to push through that little 2 mile detour.  To give you a sense of just how steep this hill was – when I rode back down I had to brake (hard) all the way down to keep my speed under 35 MPH.  At one point I looked down and I was going 41 MPH and I’m sure I could have gone much faster if I wasn’t worried about actually stopping at the stop sign at the bottom of the hill…

Oh, and what was the payoff when I finally reached the top of the hill…?  Actually, not a whole lot – no town, no nothing.  Just a $300 per night resort filled with cars in the parking lot, a cute general store (the origin of the “Sundance” catalog) and a deli with some of the nicest hosts behind the counter (for the second day in a row, my drinks and food were on the house once they heard about my ride for dog cancer charities).

Then it was back down the hill to finish my way through the mountains to our resting place in Heber City, Utah.  Tomorrow (and the next few days) it’s high desert and then into Colorado where the “real” mountains begin once more.  If the hills are anything like my 2 mile detour into Sundance, I’ve definitely got my work cut out for me.

Good night, from Heber City, Utah (just a few miles south of Park City and the famous ski resorts).

Sleep well and I’ll see you down the road.  Bye for now.

- Ted Schneck
On The Dog Cancer Ride Across America
www.DogCancerRide.com

Day 36: Playing it Safe and Enjoying the Ribs

Salt Lake City, Utah to American Fork (Provo), Utah

Today ended up being just a moving day. Hot and sunny, lots of traffic. Just your average trudging moving day.
After our experience in Boise – dirt roads, roads to nowhere, treacherous hills and weather conditions, etc., I decided not to take any chances making my way to my date with the Rockies. Looking at the map there were two possible roads – one that “barely” showed up on Google Maps (and had all sorts of crazy reversals and switchbacks (can you say… Mountains) and the other that added an extra 40 miles to the ride but took me along well traveled charted passes all the way through. I chose the safe route – and today was the day to move on south – to get a better angle on my entry into the mountains.

One surprise was how UN- Bicycle Friendly Northern Utah became as we rode south of Salt Lake City. The state that had seemed like a bicycle paradise from the moment we crossed the state line, suddenly became littered with speeding cars and some of the scariest bicycle roads I’ve seen on the Ride.
It seems when they they re-paved the roads a while back, they decided to only re-pave 97% of the road. And left the remaining 3% – the shoulder you ride on when you’re riding a bicycle – completely untouched. Not a bad decision from a car perspective – but for bicyclists, terrible. As I rode along, mile after mile of road had this treacherous 3/4 inch “lip” along the edge, forcing me to stay up on the re-paved portion – jutting much farther out into traffic than I cared to be. But I had no real choice – the original edge was way too narrow to ride inside, the drainage grates were barely bicycle protected (every time I came near one, I was scared it might swallow up my tire if I misjudged the angle), and any jump to the left – for example to avoid one of the killer grates – would risk catching my wheel on the 3/4 inch lip and falling right into traffic. It was so bad that I considered riding up on the sidewalk (like I used to do when I was a kid) until I realized how bumpy and slow that would be.

So I took a deep breath, and rode as carefully as I could, praying that the 3 lanes of traffic alongside me would heed my flashing taillight and be kind enough to go around me without taking me out for good. Yes, for a few miles it was THAT scary.

Luckily for me, as I made it further away from Salt Lake City, traffic thinned out somewhat and the road went back to being comfortable for both bicycle and driver.

So I trudged along, riding through small Utah town after small Utah town, the mountains looming menacingly (yet beautifully) to the East (sometime soon I have to actually go OVER these things), until finally, right around dinner-time, I stumbled upon a miracle… a real live Southern Barbeque Rib Joint right in the heart of Lehi, Utah.

Now this may not sound like much of a miracle to you… but as someone who’s been riding over 1,100 miles so far and CRAVING barbeque ribs – this little shack seemed like quite a godsend to me. Especially when I looked over and noticed that the place was packed with customers enjoying dinner on picnic tables in the garden.

So despite the fact that Ian and Nikki were awaiting my arrival in Provo (a few miles down the road), I skidded my bicycle to a halt and moseyed up to the rib shack to get me some dinner. And boy was I glad I did. Not only was the barbeque beef wonderful (from an original North Carolina recipe perfected when the co-owner – then age 14 – ran the restaurant his daddy had won in a poker game, while making sure the cops didn’t raid the poker games, or moonshine runs, going on upstairs), but the family that ran the shop (the brother-in-law of the moonshine kid, his wife and two kids behind the counter) insisted on buying me dinner once they heard that I was riding cross country to raise money for dog cancer charities. They even poured on 3 scoops of homemade ice-cream for dessert. Truly an amazing feast at the end of a long hot ride.

Oh, and one more thing… while I was enjoying my dinner, one of the customers came up to me and said “Hey, I recognize you – I saw you last night on the Fox 13 News at 9:00.”
Now how cool is that…

Bye for now, from American Fork, Utah. (OK, I stayed a little late at the my new favorite rib place and had to stop short the ride of Provo – but no worries, the mountains will be there when I get there.)

- Ted Schneck
on the Dog Cancer Ride Across America
www.DogCancerRide.com

Day 35: Now Approaching, The Rockies

It was a beautiful day for a ride – and what a beautiful ride for the day. Hot and sunny, but clear and beautiful.

And Utah is built for bicycling. The roads are nice and wide. The streets are clean and fresh and new. Everything looking good, except for one little thing… Mountain Passes

That’s right, we are definitely back in business on the Dog Cancer Ride Across America.

We started the day in Logan, Utah. Watched about 200 riders head off for the start of the MS-150 bicycle race… I couldn’t join them. I had some miles to cross – for my towards our rendezvous with Salt Lake City, Utah.

As I started down the road, It was absolutely beautiful – hills on either side of me; riding along; bantering ideas for the revamped Map of Heroes back and forth with Ian (as I get stronger and more comfortable on the bicycle, I’m finding myself talking more and more on the phone as I ride). Everything going great, until Ian dropped a small cautionary warning my way…

“Be careful, you’ve got a hill coming up”

“How bad?” I asked

“Let’s put it this way” he said “the car had trouble making it up”

Uh, oh.

As I approached the end of the valley where Logan is situated, I’d hoped there was a nice flat pass to ride through, but I saw the road rise ahead of me, and make a sharp right turn – straight into the mountains on the west side of the valley.

And I thought to myself, this ain’t going to be good.

My concerns were magnified by the road sign at the bottom of the hill, which warned – Caution, carry chains and beware of road closures ahead – NEXT 15 MILES – “Suck it up Princess – we’re going riding today” (that’s an inside joke for anyone who has ever attended T .Harv Eker’s Warrior Training Course – and in light of our recent “Swan Lake” ballet incident, I’m afraid that explanation is probably necessary.)

The hill was tough all right but doable – and it was a good preview of things to come as I hit the Rockies in a few days. Plus, as tough as the climb up the mountain is, the best part of mountain climbing are the lovely signs at that top of the hill. In this case, the sign that read “Caution steep downhill, next 6 MILES” – Yay (me love downhills)

We ended the day in Ogden, Utah – home of “Pioneer Days,” loads of 1950s-ish buildings, horse statues wrapped in paper (apparently getting ready for their grand debut), and of course a large indoor skydiving building right in the middle of downtown (cue the Sesame Street music – “3 of these things are just like the other – three of these things are one and the same… – one of these things just doesn’t belong here, can you say it’s name…. – kind of scary what you can remember from 30 year old kids shows).

All in all, an Excellent day on the road – and a great preview of bigger (and steeper days to come)

Bye for now, from beautiful Utah. We’re back on the road and feeling good again.

- Ted Schneck

Day 34: I’m in a Utah State of Mind

Hello folks, this is Nikki, updating on what’s been going on for the past couple of weeks.

What a month June has been. Particularly the 17th–Day 24 of the Dog Cancer Ride Across America. Earlier in the day, as Ian and I were driving down Interstate 15 through Pocatello, our support vehicle broke down.

After calling AAA and having it towed to the nearest repair shop, we learned that there was literally less than half-a-quart of oil in the entire SUV. We went surprisingly far, but inevitably, the lack of oil caused the entire engine to seize, leaving us with no vehicle. The mechanics explained that there were absolutely no signs of an oil leak, so we have to conclude that, while performing the last oil change, someone forgot to replace several quarts of oil. So now we’re making arrangements with the dealership where we bought the car–the people who administered that fatal oil change–to figure out what exactly we’re going to do about the car and the $5,000 spent on it.

Later that night, we settled into our hotel in Lava Hot Springs, Idaho. It was about 11:00 PM, when Ian and I decided to go for a walk down main street in search of a convenience store. A couple of blocks away, a group of teenage boys drove by and began name-calling and swearing at us for no apparent reason. They drove off and we didn’t think much of it, until a few blocks away, they stopped the car and four guys got out and started pummeling Ian. Luckily he was in martial arts for several years, so he was able to defend himself, and he probably caused more damage to them than they did to us. Once back in the hotel, we got a hold of the police and filed a report, but there isn’t much that can be done.

So, that’s what’s been keeping us away from the blog for the past 16 days, but we’re back and stronger than ever. We’ve got another vehicle, a 1994 Mercury Villager, which not only has more space, but it also gets slightly better gas mileage than the Acura we were driving before.

Well, now that you’re all caught up, I’ll pass the keyboard over to Ted. But if you’d like to see more of what happened over the past couple of weeks, check out our YouTube profile at http://youtube.com/dogcancerride!

And now, here’s Ted:

As much as I enjoyed our layover in Preston, Idaho (the town was quaint yet active, the people friendly, and for some reason I LOVED the idea of staying in the hotel room “Napolean Dynamite” slept in while filming the movie – probably too much, considering I’ve never even seen the movie…), I was one happy cyclist as I rode my bicycle past the “Welcome to Utah” sign and FINALLY out of our Idaho “adventure” – frankly, I was afraid we’d never leave.

Between car troubles, rain and wind storms, roads to nowhere, health scares, random teen thug attackers, locals throwing soda at me, etc., etc., etc. – Idaho took us about twice as long to ride through as expected. And I couldn’t wait to leave. (My apologies to any Idahoans out there supporting the Ride.)

But as I crossed into Utah, I felt a weight come off my shoulders – a lighter feeling – a feeling that we really were back on track and again making progress towards our goals. It felt good.

Who cared that my rear bicycle tire went flat about 3/4 of a mile past the Utah sign (my first flat in over 900 miles of riding) – it still felt good. Or that the same tire went flat again about 6 miles later… Or that the same tire went flat again again about 5 miles after that (O.K., by then I was getting a bit annoyed – and decided it was time to cut my ride about 7 miles short of my intended destination and have Ian drive me into town for a good night’s sleep).

And a funny thing happened as we pulled into the parking lot of the Econolodge in Logan, Utah – the entire parking lot was filled (we literally got the last room in town) with of all things BICYCLISTS! It seems we hit Logan on the eve of its annual “MS-150 Bicycle Race” to benefit Multiple Sclerosis. It felt strange walking around among literally hundreds of bicyclists – especially since I was the ONLY ONE in bicycle clothes, and knowing that I was the ONLY ONE who wasn’t riding in the race the next day.

I actually considered entering the race just for fun – curious to see how I’d do now that I’ve been “training” for the past 975 miles – but thought better of it once I realized there was a $250 entry fee (its for a good cause, but still…) and that the race covered a giant 150 mile circle over the next two days. I mean, when you’re already in the middle of a 4,281 mile ride, why add another 150 miles just to go in a big circle?

So as I sit here, planning out routes to get over the Rockies (just a few days away), it’s comforting to know there are hundreds of other bicyclists sleeping soundly in the rooms around me. I’ll think about them (and wonder how I would have done) as we roll along through my new favorite state (for now) – Utah, towards my next new favorite states (Wyoming and Colorado, coming soon) along our journey across America to Virginia Beach, Virginia, and hope for dogs who desperately need cancer care.

From the worlds hugest hotel room (it’s literally twice as big as our rooms on any other night) – in the middle of the world’s largest bicycle rally (ok, maybe not the world’s largest, but it is pretty darn big) – this is Ted Schneck saying good night from The Dog Cancer Ride Across America.

Thanks for stopping by and I’ll see you down the Utah (finally) road…

- Ted Schneck in Logan, Utah

Day 18: Back on Track – Mountain Home, Idaho to Shoshone, Idaho – 76 miles

I once took a class where the teacher explain his theory about “going with the flow.” He said that every time he tried to fight the direction that the universe (or spirit or god, if you wish) was trying to guide him, he’d struggle and face obstacle after obstacle. But that as soon as he’d “listen” to the signals that were being sent his way, that the path seemed to open and everything tended to flow smoothly. The way he described it, was that he’d ask himself the question “What is TRYING to happen here?” and then, when possible, follow in the direction of that flow. And that this simple strategy had guided him to many of the best experiences of his life.

Well I experienced some of that today, as I rode out of Mountain Home, Idaho
on my way towards beautiful Ketchum/Sun Valley. For the past 2 days, I’ve been fighting to get out of Mountain Home and over Route 20 – the Sun Valley highway. And for the past 2 days, obstacle after obstacle has been thrown my way. Maps that point me in the wrong direction, roads to nowhere, constant sidewinds, rainstorms brewing in the distance, cold gusty winds blowing through my underdressed outfit (with no windbreaker), and only prospects of getting worse as the road was getting ready to climb to 5,200 feet with a chance of snow.

So today I decided to listen, and take the road AROUND my original route and down into the main central Idaho valley. So, prepared for the worst (literally 6 layers of clothing on or wrapped around me to ward of the cold winds and chance of rain), I got on my bicycle and headed south – down Route 30, the Old Oregon Trail and over towards Shoshone.

And the moment I left Mountain Home, I knew I’d made the right decision.

Maybe it was the 6 layers of clothes, or maybe I just got lucky and hit the timing right – but while the Sun Valley road remained socked in with menacing looking clouds, as I started down the road towards Shoshone, the clouds parted, and a beautiful sun shined through. Tailwinds appeared to gently pushed me along the road – and a long gentle ride eased me into back country that kept getting prettier and prettier.

So, as much as Day 16 and 17 were battles against the elements (and against the Maps that kept sending me down Roads to Nowhere), Day 18 was the day we got back on track. Oh, there were still some struggles along
the way: the 4 mile dead end road that my GPS system sent me down, and the usual equipment problems – 2 cameras accidentally dropped (1 working fine, hopefully, the other hopefully fixable…). But as the sun was setting on me as I rode into town in Shoshone it felt good to be back on the road making progress towards Virginia Beach once again.

From the road in central Idaho, this is Ted Schneck wishing you all clear skies ahead. And we’ll see you down the road on the Dog Cancer Ride Across America.

Bye for now.

- Ted

Day 17: The Road to Nowhere…II

Wow. As good as our luck was back in Oregon, choosing beautiful country roads – finding nice tailwinds – and staying out of the nasty weather for the most part – that’s how BAD our fortune has been riding through Idaho.

And today took the cake.

The official “Route” for Day 17 of The Dog Cancer Ride Across America – which was supposed to read “Mountain Home, Idaho to Fairfield, Idaho (69 miles)” – instead actually reads “Mountain Home, Idaho to… Mountain Home, Idaho – 13 miles) .

What a day. As we chose the route from Mountain Home to Ketchum/Sun Valley (our next major stop along the ride) I decided to take Sun Valley road across the valley southeast of Boise and over to Ketchum. On the map, the first few miles looked like they would wind through some hills and be a bit of a challenge – but after that it would be straight and smooth sailing – all the way to Fairfield and beyond.

And while we’d heard some rumors of some bad weather coming our way, when I hit the road it was a cool day mixed with sun and clouds, but nothing much to worry about. Or so I thought.

As I bundled up with extra layers of clothes, I realized that I couldn’t find any of my windbreaker jackets – so I decided to take off without them and just bundle up for extra warmth.

Mis-take. While I was warm enough as long as the sun was out, as soon as the clouds and wind came along, I could feel the chill roll through me and I wished that I had taken the extra time to find my windbreaker jacket.

And then it happened – the Sun Valley road took a sharp left into the hills – and after my experience with the Road to Nowhere yesterday, I decided it was time to stop and check things out before I continued into the hills. I happened to meet a road worker in a truck near the side of the road where I’d stopped, and asked him if I was on the road towards Ketchum. He confirmed that I was, indeed, on the correct road (so far so good), but asked me how far I expected to go. When I told 69 miles, he shook his head and told me I’d be lucky to make it 25. And then he explained why.

I was indeed on the right road. But what I hadn’t realized in mapping out my route was that the first part of the road didn’t go up into the hills – it went up into the mountains. And that over the next 25 miles I’d be climbing over several tall passes – including one that would take me to 5,400 feet.

Great. Here I was, already underdressed, chilled, watching the clouds build and the winds pick up, and now I was getting ready to climb to 5,400 feet. I like to tell people that I may be crazy, but that I’m definitely not insane… And this was rapidly starting to look insane.

So after consulting with my team, we decided it was time to get me off the Sun Valley road and back to someplace where I could get and stay warm. But there was one minor problem. My support team was off running an errand – 40 miles away – and it would take them 40 minutes to get back to where I was. So I spent the next 40 minutes, literally huddled as low as possible alongside a mailbox post – using the wooden post to shield me from as much of the (now constant) wind as possible, and wondering how, and when I was going to make it out of Mountain Home and out towards Ketchum.

Blog Update: We figured out an alternate route that will take us where we need to go, but keep us south of the 5,400 foot mountain passes. It means some redirection of the route map, but it makes a lot more sense. Especially since the weather forecast for Ketchum and the mountains tomorrow is “High of 47 degrees, with a slight chance of SNOW – in June” – yeah, I think I’ll be avoiding the mountains this time around – at least until we hit the Rockies and no longer have any choice.

From my hotel room (back) in the town of Mountain Home and (still) a bit chilled from my cold and windy ride earlier today, this is Ted Schneck from The Dog Cancer Ride Across America saying good night, and I’ll see you (hopefully) down the road.

Bye for now.

- Ted

Day 16: On the Road to Nowhere…

Something cool happened at the end of the day yesterday. Ian said he had a surprise for me when he picked me up from my ride.

As we ride cross country, we’ve been wanting to decorate the car – to show the world that we’re riding on The Dog Cancer Ride Across America. And yesterday, Ian and Nikki found a kiosk at, of all places, the Mall in Boise, that printed custom signs that you can use to decorate cars. It looks great – The Dog Cancer Ride Across America lettering, with an image of a dog and a bicycle alongside. And stickers with our www.dogcancerride.com <http://www.dogcancerride.com> web address on it. Exactly what we’d been looking for.

But I wanted more, more, more. And today was the last day that we’d be close to Boise, so we decided to take the first part of the day to hit the mall again – get some more signs – and shop for a few items that we still needed.

So by time I hit the road it was about 3:00pm. Not to worry though, all I needed to do was make it to Mountain Home and maybe, if I felt up to it, a few miles beyond. Nothing I couldn’t handle now that I had reached the frontage road alongside Route 84.

Or so I thought.

Because first there was a little matter of FINDING the frontage road along Route 84. And, for some reason, that just wasn’t going to be possible on this Day 16 of the ride.

As I rode along Simco road, the road that Google maps swore took me right to the frontage road connection, I immediately noticed a minor problem. There was no frontage road connection. So I stopped and called Ian, to have him look on his map and see what I’d done wrong.

“You’re right on track,” Ian said, “Simco road goes west, away from the freeway for just a bit and then turns back east and connects up with the frontage road”

“Great.” I responded. Happy to learn that I was on the right path.

Ooops. Because as I started riding, and riding, and riding – there was no turn-off to the frontage road – and Simco road did not turn back east towards the freeway. Nope, it just kept going straight southwest – angling away from the freeway – for miles, and miles, and miles. With no indication of stopping…, ever.

The road to nowhere.

Simco road did finally stop, eventually, about 20 miles later – and about 18 miles east of the freeway and my stopping point in Mountain Home. A long lonely trail that added almost 20 extra miles to my expected journey. And to make matters worse, as I turned to make my way back towards the freeway, the beautiful sunny Idaho day – you know, the one that led me to leave all of my rain gear in the car and ride with just my basic riding gear – was about to come to a dramatic end.

Off in the distance, the clouds with the distinct lines of rain falling down from them, decided to bear down upon me. And the temperature decided to drop, significantly, as the skies darkened. And the winds decided to pick up to about 30 miles per hour – southbound – which, since I was now travelling eastbound, meant 30 miles per hour side-winds (my favorite). And the rain drops – huge drops of rain, decided to start to fall – sideways. And I decided that I wasn’t having fun – and that I wanted to be done for the day.

I managed to keep riding through the cold and rain and wind – and even managed to get out in front of the rain clouds just enough to stay mostly dry. But by time Ian and Nikki met me in Mountain Home to take me back to our warm hotel – i was so very happy to see them, and so very happy to be done with my Road to Nowhere.

From back in the land of somewhere, Mountain Home, Idaho, bye for now and I’ll see you down the road.

- Ted

Day 15: Riding on Dirt in Boise…

After an exciting Saturday on the ride – our first press interview on Fox News 12 Boise News at Nine –Sunday was our day to make it out of town and off towards our next destination – to meet an old friend in Ketchum/Sun Valley, Idaho . But first we had a choice to make…

There were two ways out of town – one taking me south around the outskirts of Boise, in a big arc towards Mountain Home, the next big city along the way. And the other – riding through Boise and down along the frontage road along the highway, Route 84. Both roads got us to Mountain Home, but the frontage road route had two benefits – 1) it took us through Boise (after all, Boise was listed on the route map, so I did want to be able to say that I rode through) and 2) it cut about 27 miles off of the trip.

There was only one problem – the frontage road didn’t run all the way along Route 84 – and I wasn’t allowed on the freeway with a bicycle. And the only way to connect up with the frontage road was along this odd windy loop to get me from where the road through Boise (Kuna, Idaho) stopped, and the frontage road began. A 7 mile stretch by freeway, but about 18 miles around this weird loop. And to make matters a bit more unnerving, the loop appeared to go up into the hills surrounding Boise – and nobody had any Idea what the road would be like once I got there.

But I decided to risk it – like I said, I wanted to make sure I rode at least part of the way through Boise – so off I went (the short road) for a lovely Day 15 ride.

And lovely it was indeed, all the way up to the dreaded loop. As I started along the loop, I learned that my fear of the hills was unfounded. I met a car load of hunters coming down from the hills, and stopped to ask them what lied ahead.

A nice bunch, these hunters. The first thing they did was offer me a cold beer (I respectfully declined – you know, riding a bicycle and all), and then they told me stories about their hunting trip… Well, actually, the guy telling me the story hadn’t actually been hunting – “Not allowed to have a gun,” he shared, “Convicted Felon.” Lovely. I wanted to ask…, but thought better of it and just bit my lip, starting to wonder if it wasn’t time to move along…

But not before they told me a bit about the road ahead. Nah, it wasn’t hilly hardly at all… Nah, it was just made of “dirt.” That’s right – only about 10 of the 18 miles were actually paved – the rest hard packed gravely dirt.

Now I don’t know what type of bicycle you ride around on – but mine is a lightweight racing bicycle, with really thin, and really fragile wheels. Really NOT, conducive to gravely dirt roads. The road ahead was NOT going to be fun. But by then it was too late – the choice had been made miles ago, and there was no turning back. So away I went – leaving my convicted felon hunting friends behind, to face the dirt road ahead.

All in all, I managed to survive the dirt with no major problems. It wasn’t fun – and it was slow going and required lot’s of concentration to steer around the worst of the gravel – but there were some pretty views and it was certainly quiet and peaceful in the Idaho back country.

Still I was grateful when the road turned back to pavement and the loop returned to the freeway – ready for me to finish the trip to Mountain Home on paved roads. But for today I’d had enough, and gratefully met Ian and Nikki for the ride back to our hotel. The rest of the journey to Mountain Home would have to wait until tomorrow.

Bye for now from the paved portion of the roads near Boise, Idaho.

Thanks for stopping by and I’ll see YOU down the road.

Good night.

- Ted

Day 14: We’re Riding On-Air

Day 14 was a memorable day on The Dog Cancer Ride Across America. Our arrival in Boise, the first city since we left Portland – which meant our first chance to stock up on things we’ve been missing. So while I was riding through Boise, today was supposed to be a shopping day for my support team, Ian and Nikki.

But first, we had some friends to meet.

The Dog Cancer Ride Across America has an amazing friend who lives in Boise. He met us through his dog, “Tiggerby Happy Mac”, an adorable 11 year old Scottie who was diagnosed with cancer in November 2007. At the time, the vets told Ken that Tiggerby Happy Mac had only 30-days to live. But Ken is not the type to give up easily. So he made did his research, came across my Curing Canine Cancer website, and found a wonderful holistic vet in town named Shauna Ault.

Well thanks to the things Ken learned, and the wonderful care Tiggerby Happy Mac got from Dr. Ault, I’m proud to say that today we got to Tiggerby Happy Mac meet in person, still happy and frolicking, 8 months after the vets told Ken to start making funeral arrangements.

But first we met with Dr. Ault herself at her office in Nampa, Idaho (just outside of Boise). She shared with us some of the amazing work she was doing to help dogs (and cats and horses) fight cancer. She’s got some cool, cutting edge machines and techniques, that help her determine the exact treatments that each individual dog will respond to best in the fight against cancer. And you can see from the stories she tells (and her experience with Tiggerby Happy Mac) that these things really work. She even showed us “before and after” pictures of a 14 year old cat she had treated, whose nose was almost falling off from the same type of cancer my dog Marty had, who is now – 4 years later – living out the elder stages of his life showing no signs of cancer whatsoever.

We recorded our interview with Dr. Ault but barely had time to scratch the surface of the information she wanted to share. So she’s agreed to sit down with me in a few weeks and do an hour long “Live Expert Interview” over the telephone for my Curing Canine Cancer book and bonus package. I’ll send out notices to everyone on the Ride Report mailing list to make sure you can be there (and ask Dr. Ault any questions) when the call happens.

And then, as we were getting ready to leave Dr. Ault’s office, a wonderful thing happened. Ian pulled me aside and told me “you’re not going to believe this – he did it!”

Remember I told you, our friend Ken McDevitt is not one to give up easily. And a few weeks ago Ken decided that we needed to be interviewed by the local media as we rolled our way through Boise – so he called and sent e-mail messages to every newspaper and television station in town, letting them know we were coming. And for weeks he was ignored – no response at all. Nobody in the press seemed to care. But Ken kept plugging away – actually calling to berate some members of the media for not caring enough about dogs and this important issue… – And on this beautiful Saturday morning in Boise, Ken decided to give it one final try. He went back onto our website, copied the entire “Media” page information and sent out one final e-mail to every reporter he could think of in the Boise area.

And when Ian pulled me aside in Dr. Ault’s office, he told me… “We’ve gotta go – we’ve got an interview with Allison Warren of Fox 12 News at Nine”. Ken had done it. And we were going to be “On the Air” in Boise.

Needless to say I was pretty excited – and nervous (it was our first TV interview after all. I actually misspelled my name on camera – somehow deciding it was spelled – S – c – h – “Capital N” – e – c – k” – don’t ask me where that one came from (but my support team, Ian and Nikki had a good time mocking me for it). But despite my nerves the interview went really well – Allison was a true dog lover, and we got great video of me riding through town and even shots of Angie wagging her tail and playing in the parking lot where we shot the interview.

And finally, when the cameras were packed away, it was off to meet Ken himself – the man of the hour – and his amazing Dog Cancer Hero – Tiggerby Happy Mac. Ken and his wife were wonderful – opening their home to us for a barbeque dinner and a night of stories and friendship. Ken shared with us his love and devotion for Tiggrby Happy Mac and all he’d been doing to make sure his boy would be around, happy and healthy, for as long as possible. He shared his gratitude to us, for all we were doing to help dogs fight cancer, and promised to work with us side-by-side to make sure we got the message out to as many dog owners as possible.

And then Ken shared with me another passion of his, one I hadn’t known about before. Apparently, when Ken was a child, he and another friend (both 5 years old) were playing under a car, when the owner of the car got in, turned on the ignition, and accidentally ran over Ken’s 5 year old friend, killing him. Since then, Ken has been on a mission to prevent these types of accidents which apparently kill hundreds of young children each year. Now, I know how sad it is to have to deal with the loss of a pet to a powerful disease like cancer, but I cannot even imagine the pain that a mother or father must feel if they back up their car and find that they accidentally killed their own child.

Ken is so passionate about getting families to safeguard their cars, that he started his own business – called Mobile Vision Boise – to help parents equip their cars with appropriate safety devices to make sure this never happens to their child. Not only that, he does his best to pass along this equipment to families at wholesale, to make sure these critical safety devices are available at a reasonable cost to everyone. If you have young children – or if there are young children who play in your area – I encourage you to visit Ken at www.mobilevisionboise.com <http://www.mobilevisionboise.com>, to learn more about these product and how you can save the life of a child. Just tell him that Ted at The Dog Cancer Ride Across America sent you…

Oh, and if you want to check us out On Air – you can watch us on the Fox 12 News website at – http://www.fox12boise.com/Global/story.asp?S=8447382&nav=menu439_2_15 <http://www.fox12boise.com/Global/story.asp?S=8447382&nav=menu439_2_15> – just click on the Raising Awareness of Dog Cancer “video” link right under the “Cross Country Bike Ride for Dog Cancer” headline.

Bye for now – and we’ll see you “On the Air” – on Fox 12 News at Nine, Boise and beyond.

- Ted Schneck

Day 13: Why Men Don’t Ask for Directions

We spent our last night in Oregon in the small pioneer town of Vale. Lots of pretty murals painted on the buildings around town, but all in all a bit creepy to wander around at night – kind of a ghost town, with cement everywhere (virtually no grass to walk Angie on) and a creaking metal sign hanging over the door next to our hotel. The room WAS pretty nice – a two bedroom suite with a kitchen – but still, not a place I’m planning to return to any time soon.

On the way out of town though, I managed to get a bit lost. There were two ways to get to our destination near Boise, Idaho – one a bit longer but a nice smooth path and the other straight through the hills. After the past few days, I’m a bit sick of hills, so I definitely decided that I wanted to take smooth road around.

Now, like most men, I can be guilty at times of riding around, lost, without asking directions. Well, today I made an exception and decided to pull into the gas station to figure out which way I needed to go. And thankfully, the attendant at the station knew exactly where I was going and told me the exact direction that I needed to go to get there.

So I followed the road he sent me down towards Idaho. And within a few miles realized that he had sent me down the EXACT road that I didn’t want to go down today. Oh well, I guess I’m riding hills again today.

It wasn’t too bad actually – I’d already made it past the really big hills the days before – but still I was glad to see the road flatten out as I rolled into Nyssa, the last town before crossing the Oregon/Idaho border and, according to the sign on the way into town “the Thunderegg Capital of the World”

Cool. Except for one thing – I had no idea what a Thunderegg is – so I set off around town to figure out the mystery. And after hunting, and hunting, and hunting, I FINALLY found a shop – in the Thunderegg Capital of the world – that carried Thundereggs. (They’re basically these giant rocks, that when you cut them open have very pretty colored gems inside.) I’ve got loads of video of me searching for the elusive Thunderegg, so hopefully you should be able to see them online real soon. Oh yes, and the owner of the shop actually donated a small Thunderegg to me for the ride, so maybe we’ll auction it off at the end of our journey.

As I rolled out of Nyssa (Thunderegg in my riding bag) and crossed into Idaho (yay, milestone), it became pretty apparent that we were entering another non-Oregon world. The land of Agriculture. Farms, and cows, and tractors and farms and farms, everywhere.

And ironically, on the day that started with me cursing my luck for asking directions – guess what happened on the way into Nampa (the end of my route outside of Boise)… Yup. I got lost. So the day ended kind of like it started – only this time with me on the phone to my parents in New York, and them on the computer Mapquest-ing my way towards my final destination for the day.

And my favorite line of the day… as I said goodbye and got off the phone with my mother and father, my mom jumped in and said… “we’ll see you down the road”.

So from The Dog Cancer Ride Across America, this is Ted Schneck wishing you all a good night, and “I’ll see you down the road”

Bye for now.

- Ted Schneck