So I wake up after a terribly exciting day in Tribune (sarcasm), and whoa, is it a great day. Unfortunately, it's also ridiculously windy. I call Allie just to check the numbers, and whoa -- the wind is 23 mph today. So much for waiting for the good wind. Did I mention that it's gusting to 30 mph? 'Cause it is. That's like -- roughly -- 700 kilometers per hour or something, I'm not really sure.

Here's a picture of the wind:

Woohoo, that Kansas is fierce exciting.

So I pedal into the wind, managing 8 mph (212 kmph, I think), and -- for the moment -- life blows. Life blows big time, and it gusts to 30 mph. I buckle in for a long day, and just keep going. Luckily, my fan club is there to lavish me with their loving adoration:

Okay, like, the cows are cool and stuff, and I'm glad they dig my trip, but really -- can you say obsession? Go eat some grass or something.

Here's a photo of a typical motel, of the sort that I often stay:

So I finally roll into Sheridan Lake, a teeming metropolis of 85 persons, but the damn lake is gone. There's just this big circle of dried mud. I was pretty disappointed, but I imagine the 85 people that fell for the hype are even more pissed.

Sheridan Lake offers no eating establishment other than a gas station with a microwave and a various assortment of "pockets." I grabbed two that claimed to offer ham and cheese, then I chowed down while I chatted with the owner.

I finally dragged myself out to the bike and hit the road, passing slowly into prairieland with only wind and dust devils to keep me company. Things began to look a bit bleak, even in the prairie -- which I love. As they say in the movies, I'm not in the middle of nowhere, but I can sure see it from here.

Uh-oh. I don't like the way those clouds look. Could be in for some rain.

Did I mention that I've entered Colorado? Sorry, it was such a non-event that I almost forgot. There was no welcome sign for me to pose by. It looked like the old sign had been blown down. What are the odds on that?

At this point you may be thinking "Ha ha Travis, you're just showing us the same picture over and over." Trust me, I'm not. In fact, I'm trying to focus on the variety offered by the Great Plains.

About two miles out of Sheridan (No) Lake, I here the metallic pop of a broken spoke. Joy. I stop and spend a few minutes truing up the rear wheel, then wobble off down the road. Next bike shop, Pueblo.

So I roll into Eads, Colorado, around 5:30. Whoa, 7 hours of riding at 8 mph, that blew. As soon as I hit town, the wind stops. This is, as you can imagine, the final insult. I chat on the phone, then decide to make the most of the break in the wind. Woohoo, I'm going on! I grab a bite to eat, then roar out on the highway to discover the rarest of all treats -- a tailwind! Woot!

I pedaled slightly south as the sun set, enjoying a fantastic sunset. The sky gradually became purple, then gave way to night, and I continued onward. I have been thinking about my situation, in light of my broken spoke and worn tires. If I continue on schedule, I'll hit Pueblo on Sunday, when the bike shops are closed. On the other hand, I'll really have to move to reach Pueblo early Saturday, when the shops are still open. With this in mind, I decide to go another 60 miles, then wake up at dawn and race into Pueblo.

As the sun dropped below the horizon, the wildlife of the prairie came alive. I spooked a few foxes and terrified some complacent birds as I pedaled into the night.

Just after Arlington, a tiny community in the middle of nowhere, I stopped to hook up my taillight and headlight. Their batteries were, of course, completely drained. After loading my spares into the headlight, I kept rolling. In the plains, away from even the tiniest of towns, I enjoyed an amazing view of the stars, and the energy of the night coursed through me. I sped further and further, finally hitting Ordway just before 11:00 pm. It was pretty damn cold, but I didn't want to waste the time to get out my cold-weather gear.

So let's recap: 7 hours to go 58 miles into the wind, 4 hours to go 61 miles with little or no wind. See why wind is bad?

I set up my tent at a truck-stop campground. I left it freestanding, since the ground was as hard as rock, making my tent pegs useless. I was wiped out, but satisfied with my progress. Knowing I would only have a few hours of sleep, I hit the sack immediately.