When I entered the store, the lady behind the counter, smoking a cigarette, barely looked up from her magazine to greet me. I said hello and began looking over the empty shelves to find some little powdered donuts to snack on while I drank my coffee. In the far right corner of the store, an annoying yelping started as I got closer to the office door. It was a high pitched screetch, something I had never heard before. Was this the prarie chicken? I approached cautiously, not knowing what to expect. Much to my dismay, it was just some ultra furry rat that I suppose was the shop keepers dog. I found my donuts, ordered a cup of coffee and sat at the booth that looked out at the gas pumps.

When the lady behind the counter put down her magazine to light another cigarette, I decided it was a good time to interupt her. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"What's a prarie chicken?"

"Sort of a slow, fat quail. Why do you ask?"

"Well the sign welcoming me to town said that Cassoday is the prarie chicken capital of the world."

The lady laughed. "We used to be before we shot 'em all."

"Shot 'em all?"

"Yeah, they're easy to hunt cause their so slow and fat. Used to be there were hundreds of nests around here, but then the hunters about cleared them all out. Ain't had many round here for years."

"But you're still the 'Prarie Chicken Capital of the World?"

"Guess we spent so much money on the signs that nobody wants to get new ones made."

Later in the day, when I was about 3 miles from Eureka, I spotted a runner on the other side of the road. As I got closer, he crossed the street to talk to me. "Are you riding across the country on the BikeCentennial Trail?"

"Yeah, I started in Florence and am going to ultimately end in Connecticut."

"That's great! I'm so excited. I was hoping I'd meet some riders on this stretch. I did the trail when it was called BikeCentennial back in 1978, now I'm running across the country. I couldn't quite remember what roads the trail went on, but I knew we went through Eureka, so I really wanted to come through here on my run, in hopes that I would meet some riders."

I couldn't quite get passed his original statement. "You're running across the country? Wow!"

"Yeah, I'm raising awareness for diabetes. My 19-year-old daughter was diagnosed with the disease back in 1991. When she first got it, her blood sugar levels kept dropping and she would get pretty sick. I guess she finally decided she wasn't going to let her blood sugar levels drop anymore, so she kept them high instead. Nobody knew. For about three years, her blood sugar was over 300, normally 160 is extremely high. When the doctor finally caught on, he tried to explain to her that she was going to go blind and get really sick, maybe even die. It didn't matter, she just didn't want to control her sugar. No matter what my ex-wife or I did or said, she just wouldn't take her diabetes seriously. Then I decided if I could just show her that I was willing to do something just absolutely crazy to help fight diabetes, then maybe she would change her attitude and start taking better care of herself. So that's when about a year ago, I came up with the idea of running across the country to raise awareness for diabetes."

"How much money have you raised?"

"I'm not raising money, I'm just trying to raise awareness. The two diabetes organizations do a wonderful job of raising money, but they are not very good at lobbying the government. Every year, the Federal Government spends about $40 billion treating diabetics, but spends less than a billion dollars researching a cure. While the fundraising is great, it's only a drop in the bucket compared to what they get from the government."

"A billion dollars sounds like a lot of money."

"It is, but if you look at how much money that is per patient, it's really not that much. In comparison, AIDS receives $2,700 per patient and breast cancer receives $267 per patient. Diabetes, which kills four times more people than AIDS and breast cancer combined receives just $48 per patient. So that's what I'm trying to do, raise awareness so that people contact their congressmen and senators to try and have them give more money to diabetes research."

"Are you getting a lot of publicity?"

"It's been tremendous. Almost every local newspaper has done a story on me and most of the local tv stations have as well. My support vehicle is an RV probably parked up the road a couple of miles. We put together all kinds of press packets that we send out before I get to every town. So far I haven't gotten any national coverage, but I've contacted all of the major networks and got their form letter back telling me they'll think about it. The people I've run into have been great and everyone wants to know what they can do. Most people are shocked with how little funding diabetes gets, so when they hear my story, they usually respond pretty positively." (Jim's website is :http://www.diabetsinfo.cc.)

"So when did you start running?"

"May 1st, from San Diego. I'm hoping to get to Washington by mid-October. I'm just over half way."

"Jeez, how far do you run every day?"

"26 to 27 miles. I started taking every 3rd day off, but now I'm only taking every 4th day off. So how far are you going tonight?"

"Eureka, I'm almost done for the day, and you?"

"The same. I'd really like to meet up for dinner to talk about your trip if you'd like."

"That'd be great. Let me ride ahead into town and get settled, then I'll come back and tell you where I'm staying and figure out a place to eat."

"Sounds good. I'll see you later."

So, I rode into town and decided to get a motel room for the night and stopped at the first one I saw. When I walked into the office, the man behind the desk immediately asked "heading east or west?"

"East."

"Did you start in Florence or Astoria?" Obviously I wasn't the first biker that rented a motel room from him.

"Florence."

"There's another biker here that came in a few hours ago. She's heading east too."

"Really? I didn't think anyone was right ahead of me."

"Yeah, she's riding by herself. Don't know if she's doing the whole trail though. She's in room 26, give her a call."

"I will. I'm going to be going out to dinner with a guy who's running across the country for diabetes."

"Running? Wow!"

"That's what I said. How much are your rooms?"

"For you, I have a special biker rate. I'm not in this for the money. I don't like money, I like people."

"Well, then this is my favorite motel." After a little more small talk, the motel manager showed me to my room. I then surveyed the downtown, picked out a restaraunt (the only cafe in town) and rode back to tell Jim (the runner) where I was staying and where we should meet for dinner. I also told him about the other biker, so we decided to invite her as well.