Finishing.
Typed 6/27/13
So the destination of an epic adventure had been
reached. Now what? Well, while it has been a wonderful trip, I was ready
to go home. I knew there was nothing available for public transit that
far out, so I began the ride back. I stopped at a convenience store in
Clallam Bay, where I saw/ met (extremely briefly) Gabe Rygarrd from Rygaard
Logging from History Channels show, Ax Men. It's kinda funny when you
are star struck by a logger.
I got on a bus in Clallam Bay and after a
few connections, I discovered I was one bus rotation late to get all the
way to the ferry that night. I was dropped off at Discovery Bay, about
30 miles from where I would take the ferry from Kingston back to
Edmonds. It was POURING rain, and getting dark quick. It was a 60mph
speed zone, but I had a decent shoulder so I felt semi-safe. For the
first time ever in my life, I decided to stick out my thumb ad see if I
could hitch a ride. It took a few miles, but eventually a white pick-up
pulled to the shoulder. One of the nicest guys I've met along my
trip, Vaughn, and his newly aquired pup George, picked me up, wet as a
fish, and went out of his way to bring me all the way to the ferry. If
you ever read this Vaughn, thanks a million, again! When we pulled up
the ferry dock the 820PM ferry was pulling away from the dock, but it
was OK, another would run at 940, and I made it here safely, and could
get a decent meal now. By the time I was off the ferry in Edmonds, it
was dark, and my GPS batteries were dead. I thought I knew the way back
to the motel I stayed in a few nights before, but in typical fashion, I
can't navigate a city at night worth a damn, and I got lost. I got some
new batteries and made it to the motel just a bit before midnight. The
next morning I made my train reservation, repacked and minimized a few
things. I snapped my bike tool trying to get my pedals off, so I went to
a mechanics shop to borrow a real 8mm Allen key, and
broke them
loose. Normally getting a bike into a box is a bit of a chore. The
Amtrak boxes are HUGE. I probably didn't even need to lower my seat. I
took the stem off, but probably could've just rotated it. Once pedals are
off and bars are tweaked the bike literally rolls right into the box. I
slid my front panniers in the bottom of the box, and took my rear
bags as carry on. Now I'm sitting on the train. A bit over a day down,
just under 2 days to go. I am stiff as a brick and bored as a board.
I'm
honestly not sure what I was was expecting finishing to be like. I
honestly can't explain what it was like. The emotions were kind of numb
compared to what I expected. If numb doesn't explain them, mixed
definitely should. The night after finishing the ride, and before the
hike, I fell asleep laughing my ass off, with tears pouring out of my
eyes. Nothing was funny, and I wasn't sad in the least. Hiking to Cape
Alava was less epic than being able to ride my bike all the way, but the
trail was A) Completely unrideable with my rig, and B) Wilderness,
therefore illegal to ride.
A lifetime goal, over a year in
planning, saving money, dreaming, and 45 days worth of full on physical,
mental, emotional, and (anti)social commitment, boiled down to standing
on a seaweed covered rock off Tskawahyah Island. The sense of
accomplishment was huge. All I could think was, "That's it? What now?"
Everyone has different priorities in life, and many times, those priorities change with time. I have had an immense amount of time to
think of what my priorities are on this trip. I think the separation
from home, friends, and family, has once again proven to shine a light
on just how amazing my life in the Northeast really is. I have the most
supportive parents I could imagine, who have my back through anything,
and are pretty damn cool for a bunch of geezers. I have an amazing big
brother who has a completely different focus in life when you look as
each of us on the surface, yet when you look a bit deeper, we are on
parallel paths through life. We respect each other for who we each are,
and put aside the surface details, and there is no one else who I can
relate to, understand, or confide in better in the world. I have many
friends from all walks of life, many of who would do anything for me, as
I would for them. You should know who you are, and thank you to all of you. My VT "family" and the whole KSP staff mean a lot to me as well.
I
have never been one to conform to standards. The standard life option
is get the highest paying job you can achieve after a given amount of
schooling, have a family, and retire once your old and decrepit and finally
have time to enjoy what you've worked for your entire life. All the
while talking about things "you wish you could do" or things you
"should've done while you were younger," etc. I've heard it a million
times, "I want to take a trip like that, but I can't because of....."
This is where I feel I have gained clarity on my life focus on this
trip. Some people have a bucket list, I prefer to say I have a life
list. A bucket list being things you'd like to do before you die. I have
a list of things I would like to do while I am still living life to the fullest. This list is
dynamic. If my hopes and dreams change, I have no hard feelings to take
something off of my list, and there is always room for something new to
be added on. If I can support myself well enough financially to keep
working on my list, I am in a good place in life. I don't ALWAYS need to
be doing something from the list, trips such as the one I am on require
many months+ to plan, save, and complete.
To all the people in
the world continuing to come up with excuses why "you cant this or cant
that..." STOP. Life is a series of decisions with various outcomes and
consequences. If you work hard, stay focused, and always keep the goal
in mind, almost anything is achievable. You've got to want it bad
enough to be willing to deal with the consequences. Nothing worth having
comes easy or without consequence. Don't wait. The adage, "Good things
come to those who wait," I don't believe it, not for a minute. I
could've waited my whole life, and riding across the country would never
have gotten any easier (with the exception of a bit more training
before hand, but that would still be work towards the goal, not
waiting.) The journey may in fact be more important than the destination,
but never loose sight of the destination. Without a destination, a
journey is simply aimless wandering, which can be fun, but has little
chance of successful payoff. I may seem as if I am coming off
harsh, but as a motivational intended section of this write-up, this is how I
motivate myself. Anyone who knows me well, knows I am a perfectionist,
and am extremely self critical. Good enough is almost never good enough. I
hold myself to a high standard of completion and success, and almost
never back down. The payoff of success has proven time and time
again to be worth the hard work, and occasional sacrifice.
This
trip has been no different. All the painful days of riding long
distances through blazing heat or more frequently bitter cold or pouring
rain, have been totally worth the final sense accomplishment. More
people than you would expect ride bike across the country, but the
percentage in the scheme of things is still very small. I am very proud
of my accomplishment, and riding solo, unsupported adds to the "win,"
for me. This trip was not a race, it was not a charity, and had generally no greater meaning. The most frequent question I got along my
journey was, "Why are you doing this?" After completion, still the best
answer I can come up with is "Why not?!?"
Friday, July 12, 2013
Wallace, ID to Cape Alava, WA
Typed 6/27/13
Leaving Wallace, it was still raining in the morning, but, at least for a few more miles, I had a rail trail to keep myself off the highway. Just before the Fourth of July Pass I got back on the Freeway and continued to Coeur d'Alene where I picked up another bike path that would bring me into Spokane. I was finally in the last state, and it felt good! I was way ahead of schedule, and feeling strong. At this point I was planning to only ride about 85-90 miles and stay in Spokane. I decided to keep up the high mileage days and make a break for Davenport, WA. I cut it close and got there a bit before dark, and just as the manager was leaving the motel. I debated camping, but motel comfort was well worth the cost. There was a painting on the back of the door that read "Make your life a story worth telling." This sign helped keep my moral high. At this point I wanted to go home, a lot. The trip was fun, and I wanted to finish, but enough was enough. Being alone for that amount of time and also dealing with the physically stress of pushing so hard everyday was wearing me down.
The next morning on my way out of Davenport, I met a group of touring cyclists east bound. I think there were six of them, a father and son team going to Maine and others breaking off along the way. The were riding about 60-70 pound bikes and riding about 60 miles a day. I told them where I was going and the father told me I wouldn't make it, but I knew what I could do. He honestly did not believe me when I told him the mileages I was riding. The father was quite over-the-top. I warned them about the Route 2 MT/ND situation, and the others seemed to accept it, while the father just wanted turn by turn directions through VT, NH, and ME, as if I remembered exact route numbers from 3000 miles ago. I wanted to get an earlier start, so I finally broke from the mapquest for NE session, and got on my way. I stopped for lunch in the town the passing group had camped in the night before. I was riding into headwinds, but certainly not the worst winds I've had. Eastern Washington was the desert. Incredible cliff lined valleys with steep decents into them and steep climbs back out. It also got quite warm this day. Dropping into one of the valleys I blew out a tire at about 35mph. Not the normal...pppssssssssstttttt flat. No, full on BANG, flat tire, blownout sidewall. Again, I've got to give it up to my incredible disc brakes, I came to a stop safely. The worst part was I have a tiny 2 foot shoulder, a guard rail with about 6 feet of gravel, and then a 60 foot drop to the drainage ditch below. If I stayed on that side of the rail I would've been hit my traffic, and it was about a 2 mile walk down the hill to pass the rail. I boosted my bike over the rail and swapped out my rear tire for the tire I had carried all the way across the country but hadn't used due to more than desirable tread. I was certainly glad to have the spare with me!
The difference of a pass and a valley is where the pay off is. In a valley, you get an epic decent and pay for it by grinding pedal all the way back out, sorta like getting a new truck with zero down payment. Riding a pass is more like a theme park. The wait/work comes first, and finally, you get the payoff and you get the ride of your life. Actually riding a huge mountain pass is NOTHING like a theme park ride, but you probably get what I mean. Just after Waterville, WA I had the most epic descent of the trip. It was about 8 miles of 6-7% grade dropping down into the Columbia River Valley, just north of Wenachee. I was easily sustaining about 40mph and the shoulder was tiny, but had regular pull offs so I rode in the center of the lane, and pulled off when traffic was coming behind me. Traveling at near the speed of traffic, I wasn't being passed enough that it was an issue. Once down in the valley, I was heading south to Wenachee, and the wind was brutal.
I made my way to a county park, and sat in the Day Use Area for a bit while I called my parents. With dark begining to set it, I went to find a campsite, and put up my tent. I was approached by a woman on a golf cart, who told me there was "no tenting." I explained my situation, that I had ridden 130 miles, and it was now dark, and I was on a bicycle. She threatened to have me arrested, I'm still not sure why, so it was back to the highway. I ended up in Cashmere where all h/motels within 5 miles were full, there was a wedding going on at the town park, no restaurants were open anymore, and I had yet to eat, and had nowhere to stay. I used to wifi at the library, and didnt have anyluck finding anywhere to camp. Back to the town park I went, where I began to set up my tent in a picnic area just as the sprinkler system came on. I moved on to the soccer field where I got my tent up, and tucked inside about a half hour before the sprinklers came on in that field also. I finally had a night without rain, and got some atficial rain instead. Knowing that the "Park Closed At Dark" was about 50 yards from my tent, I was on the road by 515 the next morning, and I made it to Leavenworth for breakfast. The was a big charity ride going on locally, so there were bikes everywhere. In the high class waffle haus I got talking to some other riders who were on a short tour, I cant remember where to. I aslo got involved in a conversation with the table on the other side of me, who later picked up my check. A great breakfast, and interaction with nice people restored a bit of faith in humanity after the night before, and I set out for Steven's Pass with a smile on my face. It wasnt raining terribly, but it was a bit on and off. I saw a bear in a field on my way up, first wild bear I've seen...ever. I met a group of riders at a convienience store on my way up. I left, knowing they would pass me, being they had empty bikes, but it was still crushing to watch them pull away as fast as the did when passing. They were being shuttled from the top due to the sketchy western desent.
Dropping off Steven's Pass was probably the scariest thing I've ever done on a bicycle. Narrow to no shoulders with guard rails and concrete barriers. The shoulder were littered with rock, sand, garbage, and wheel-eating drainage grates. The traffic was very heavy. I was smelling burning brakes, and didn't think much of it until I realized it was my own brakes when I looked down and the top of my rotors were singed brown and they were steaming from the rain/ road water spray. I took a lunch break when things mellowed out a bit. I was stopped for about 40 minutes and got back on the road. Not too much farther along, traffic was stopped, but the shoulder was wide enough for me to get through. I found myself passing vehicles that passed me BEFORE lunch. Only thing I could see that caused the back up was a few stop lights in small villages with such high volume sunday evening traffic. Pushing into Edmonds, just outside of Seattle, I was in good position for an early ferry crossing to the Olympic Pennisula.
I was told that after Steven's Pass, I was in the clear as far as hills/ passes. Whoever came up with that conclusion clearly never rode the Olympic Peninsula on a bike. I stopped in a Visitor Information booth, to get some extra road info. I should've known by now that these people have no idea about the realism and practicality of bike routes. I was told matter of factually that the hills were all behind me, and the ride to the coast would be mostly flat. I proceeded to put on another 4500 vertical feet in the next 75 miles. It was raining all day. I chose to ride WA 112 which was the coastal route. It was like riding a track out of Mario Kart. Up, down, left, right, over hill and dale, through the rainforest, and finally...the Pacific Ocean! I wasn't quite finished, but I could taste victory. I still had another 25 miles of some of the worst rolling pavement I had ridden since ND's "broken pavement." It was as if they layed down 3/4" stone and dumped a bit of tar on top. After a final push, my legs were spent, but at 7:54PM June 24, 2013 the most epic ride of my life to date was complete. I had not yet reached the westernmost point of the country, but I did reach the ranger station where the Cape Alava hiking trail continued through wilderness rainforest to the coast. I didnt set out for any kind of record, so it wasnt worth attempting the 9 mile roundtrip hike that night. I camped at "The Lost Resort," which had a small store and bathhouse. I really couldve used some food, however the store was closed. The only other camper was the groundskeeper who refused to give me the wifi password, even though I was staying there!! I wanted to use the store again in the morning, but it was still closed. Oh well,
free camping I suppose. I continued on my way to the hike. The dense rainforest was like no other environment I've ever been in. The boardwalk was not like an Atlantic City wooden foot highway. It was slicker than owl shit, and, boy is that slick! I arrived at the Pacific during an extremely low tide, So I hiked the beach of Cape Alava and all the way out beyond Tskawahyah Island to as far west as the Contiguous 48 states would allow me to go! I had carried my rear wheel with me on the hike for a few photos and to dip in the pond off the left coast!
Leaving Wallace, it was still raining in the morning, but, at least for a few more miles, I had a rail trail to keep myself off the highway. Just before the Fourth of July Pass I got back on the Freeway and continued to Coeur d'Alene where I picked up another bike path that would bring me into Spokane. I was finally in the last state, and it felt good! I was way ahead of schedule, and feeling strong. At this point I was planning to only ride about 85-90 miles and stay in Spokane. I decided to keep up the high mileage days and make a break for Davenport, WA. I cut it close and got there a bit before dark, and just as the manager was leaving the motel. I debated camping, but motel comfort was well worth the cost. There was a painting on the back of the door that read "Make your life a story worth telling." This sign helped keep my moral high. At this point I wanted to go home, a lot. The trip was fun, and I wanted to finish, but enough was enough. Being alone for that amount of time and also dealing with the physically stress of pushing so hard everyday was wearing me down.
The next morning on my way out of Davenport, I met a group of touring cyclists east bound. I think there were six of them, a father and son team going to Maine and others breaking off along the way. The were riding about 60-70 pound bikes and riding about 60 miles a day. I told them where I was going and the father told me I wouldn't make it, but I knew what I could do. He honestly did not believe me when I told him the mileages I was riding. The father was quite over-the-top. I warned them about the Route 2 MT/ND situation, and the others seemed to accept it, while the father just wanted turn by turn directions through VT, NH, and ME, as if I remembered exact route numbers from 3000 miles ago. I wanted to get an earlier start, so I finally broke from the mapquest for NE session, and got on my way. I stopped for lunch in the town the passing group had camped in the night before. I was riding into headwinds, but certainly not the worst winds I've had. Eastern Washington was the desert. Incredible cliff lined valleys with steep decents into them and steep climbs back out. It also got quite warm this day. Dropping into one of the valleys I blew out a tire at about 35mph. Not the normal...pppssssssssstttttt flat. No, full on BANG, flat tire, blownout sidewall. Again, I've got to give it up to my incredible disc brakes, I came to a stop safely. The worst part was I have a tiny 2 foot shoulder, a guard rail with about 6 feet of gravel, and then a 60 foot drop to the drainage ditch below. If I stayed on that side of the rail I would've been hit my traffic, and it was about a 2 mile walk down the hill to pass the rail. I boosted my bike over the rail and swapped out my rear tire for the tire I had carried all the way across the country but hadn't used due to more than desirable tread. I was certainly glad to have the spare with me!
The difference of a pass and a valley is where the pay off is. In a valley, you get an epic decent and pay for it by grinding pedal all the way back out, sorta like getting a new truck with zero down payment. Riding a pass is more like a theme park. The wait/work comes first, and finally, you get the payoff and you get the ride of your life. Actually riding a huge mountain pass is NOTHING like a theme park ride, but you probably get what I mean. Just after Waterville, WA I had the most epic descent of the trip. It was about 8 miles of 6-7% grade dropping down into the Columbia River Valley, just north of Wenachee. I was easily sustaining about 40mph and the shoulder was tiny, but had regular pull offs so I rode in the center of the lane, and pulled off when traffic was coming behind me. Traveling at near the speed of traffic, I wasn't being passed enough that it was an issue. Once down in the valley, I was heading south to Wenachee, and the wind was brutal.
I made my way to a county park, and sat in the Day Use Area for a bit while I called my parents. With dark begining to set it, I went to find a campsite, and put up my tent. I was approached by a woman on a golf cart, who told me there was "no tenting." I explained my situation, that I had ridden 130 miles, and it was now dark, and I was on a bicycle. She threatened to have me arrested, I'm still not sure why, so it was back to the highway. I ended up in Cashmere where all h/motels within 5 miles were full, there was a wedding going on at the town park, no restaurants were open anymore, and I had yet to eat, and had nowhere to stay. I used to wifi at the library, and didnt have anyluck finding anywhere to camp. Back to the town park I went, where I began to set up my tent in a picnic area just as the sprinkler system came on. I moved on to the soccer field where I got my tent up, and tucked inside about a half hour before the sprinklers came on in that field also. I finally had a night without rain, and got some atficial rain instead. Knowing that the "Park Closed At Dark" was about 50 yards from my tent, I was on the road by 515 the next morning, and I made it to Leavenworth for breakfast. The was a big charity ride going on locally, so there were bikes everywhere. In the high class waffle haus I got talking to some other riders who were on a short tour, I cant remember where to. I aslo got involved in a conversation with the table on the other side of me, who later picked up my check. A great breakfast, and interaction with nice people restored a bit of faith in humanity after the night before, and I set out for Steven's Pass with a smile on my face. It wasnt raining terribly, but it was a bit on and off. I saw a bear in a field on my way up, first wild bear I've seen...ever. I met a group of riders at a convienience store on my way up. I left, knowing they would pass me, being they had empty bikes, but it was still crushing to watch them pull away as fast as the did when passing. They were being shuttled from the top due to the sketchy western desent.
Dropping off Steven's Pass was probably the scariest thing I've ever done on a bicycle. Narrow to no shoulders with guard rails and concrete barriers. The shoulder were littered with rock, sand, garbage, and wheel-eating drainage grates. The traffic was very heavy. I was smelling burning brakes, and didn't think much of it until I realized it was my own brakes when I looked down and the top of my rotors were singed brown and they were steaming from the rain/ road water spray. I took a lunch break when things mellowed out a bit. I was stopped for about 40 minutes and got back on the road. Not too much farther along, traffic was stopped, but the shoulder was wide enough for me to get through. I found myself passing vehicles that passed me BEFORE lunch. Only thing I could see that caused the back up was a few stop lights in small villages with such high volume sunday evening traffic. Pushing into Edmonds, just outside of Seattle, I was in good position for an early ferry crossing to the Olympic Pennisula.
I was told that after Steven's Pass, I was in the clear as far as hills/ passes. Whoever came up with that conclusion clearly never rode the Olympic Peninsula on a bike. I stopped in a Visitor Information booth, to get some extra road info. I should've known by now that these people have no idea about the realism and practicality of bike routes. I was told matter of factually that the hills were all behind me, and the ride to the coast would be mostly flat. I proceeded to put on another 4500 vertical feet in the next 75 miles. It was raining all day. I chose to ride WA 112 which was the coastal route. It was like riding a track out of Mario Kart. Up, down, left, right, over hill and dale, through the rainforest, and finally...the Pacific Ocean! I wasn't quite finished, but I could taste victory. I still had another 25 miles of some of the worst rolling pavement I had ridden since ND's "broken pavement." It was as if they layed down 3/4" stone and dumped a bit of tar on top. After a final push, my legs were spent, but at 7:54PM June 24, 2013 the most epic ride of my life to date was complete. I had not yet reached the westernmost point of the country, but I did reach the ranger station where the Cape Alava hiking trail continued through wilderness rainforest to the coast. I didnt set out for any kind of record, so it wasnt worth attempting the 9 mile roundtrip hike that night. I camped at "The Lost Resort," which had a small store and bathhouse. I really couldve used some food, however the store was closed. The only other camper was the groundskeeper who refused to give me the wifi password, even though I was staying there!! I wanted to use the store again in the morning, but it was still closed. Oh well,
free camping I suppose. I continued on my way to the hike. The dense rainforest was like no other environment I've ever been in. The boardwalk was not like an Atlantic City wooden foot highway. It was slicker than owl shit, and, boy is that slick! I arrived at the Pacific during an extremely low tide, So I hiked the beach of Cape Alava and all the way out beyond Tskawahyah Island to as far west as the Contiguous 48 states would allow me to go! I had carried my rear wheel with me on the hike for a few photos and to dip in the pond off the left coast!
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Miles City, MT to Wallace, ID
More Typing 6/26/13. Now aboard Amtrak Train #8 The Empire Builder from Edmonds (near Seattle), WA to Chicago, IL.
Leaving Miles City, I had lost one day in my skip-a-day plan. I put my head down, and started putting serious mileage behind me. I made it to Billings, MT. I was on the interstate all day, with moderate headwinds and climbing. I was starting get a head cold, but I just kept pushing through. 3 flat tires in a day is discouraging when your trying to make that kind of mileage in a day. I didn't know anywhere to camp in Billings, and I felt like garbage, so I got another cheap motel. This cheap motel, well, it was the biggest dump I stayed in the entire trip. The door framing was packed with newspaper to "stop draft." The sink took about 5 minutes to drain per 30 seconds of running water. I literally slept in my sleeping bag on top of the bed. The next morning I was up early and feeling just as crummy. I could not breathe through my nose, which may have been convenient to avoid the stench of cigarettes in my wonderful "non-smoking" room. If I was in a nicer place I would have considered a day of rest to kick the cold. Instead I made the 120+ ride to Livingston, MT. My original plan was to ride to Big Timber, but I was making good enough time, so I decded to make the push. A generally uneventful day with considerable climbing, but still rolling hills and not yet mountain passes. Leaving Livingston I had a decent jump on the day. Exit hills, enter mountains. I started the day with a nice 14 mile climb. Mid day I had another 10 or so mile climb, and to finish it all off, I cleared the Continental Divide (Homestake Pass), about 16-17 mile climb, bringing me into Butte. When I say climb, I'm not talking about gradually gaining elevation. I am talking 4-5% continous grade with a 6-7% grade Pass for about 3 miles at the top. These are generalized numbers. I think its important to rememeber at this point, I am riding a fully self supported touring bike weighing in at no less than 85lbs, typically closer to 90-100 with sufficient food and water supply. I have two options on these climbs: sit and spin at high cadence, or gear down, stand up, and crank each pedal stroke with all of my 145lbs. Neither way is easy, and as any cyclist knows, the different pedal storkes work different muscle groups. The biggest thing I notice with the loaded bike, is that when standing up and pedaling, you can't push as hard as you can on an empty bike due to the fact and the side to side balance and resistance.
All this bitching about the climb. What goes up, must come down. There really isn't a way to describe the feeling of cruising at 30-40mph on a bicycle for 10-15 minutes at a shot. It is an amazing feeling. It certainly seems short lived after the 1-2 hour constant grind to get there, but the high you experience is hard to top. The gyroscopic effect sets in on the wheels and the bicycle can be controlled much like a motorcycle at speed where you simple lean your head, and the slightest weight shift sets you into an arching corner. Dropping down the Continental Divide into Butte, I litterally had to slow down so that I wasn't passing trucks decending in low gear. While it would have been fun and exciting to say that I did pass a truck, the chance of a truck blowing a tire or any other number of things going wrong was too high, and it wasn't worth risking my life.
After Butte, I was on my way to Missoula. This day started with brutal headwinds and a nasty looking storm front was heading my way. I took a quick stop out of the wind in an underpass to call for a weather report. After my proven-most-reliable weatherman Allan S. helped me out, I knew I was going to get wet, but it looked like the thunderstorms were minor, and slim to no threat of hail. Pushing on in the wind, I hear/see the moving billboard of a rental RV eastbound beeping and waving. Now, I get several cars a day giving a friendly beep and wave, typically either a hippy rig covered in stickers or a vehicle with bike racks, but this has been the only rental RV. I knew my friends from VT were taking a rental RV trip in Montana at this same time. The coincidence was amazing that we had passed each other! As it turns out, they had seen me earlier, turned around to find me, but I was in the underpass getting a weather report, so they missed me. After
ransacking the small town of Drummond, they thought it was a lost cause, and continued east, until, once again, they saw me. Return chase, this time they caught me. We had late lunch together in Drummond. They'll probably read this at some point so: it was really cool to see you guys on the other side of the country! Shortly after Drummond the rain set in, and then set in heavier. I continued to Missoula where I spent the night with family of a friend. I had never met the family before and I cannot express how thankful I am for their great hospitality!
Departing Missoula in the rain, I could see what kind of day it was going to be...you guessed it....wet. I have a long 70 mile "phantom" descent into St. Regis. It was generally downhill, but the grade was so mellow, it certainly didn't feel like it, especially with the wind and rain. There was supposed to be some sort of rail trail that lead out of St. Regis and connect to Wallace, ID. The day was getting late, and after a second failed attempt of trying to find the trail, I didn't want to waste anymore time, So back onto I-90 I went. Lookout Pass was not as bad as I was expecting after all the hype. It was about 30 miles of mellow grade and 3 miles of steep at the top. The top of the pass was the point where I crossed into Idaho and Pacific Time. The western side of the pass was also much colder. The eastern side was rain the whole way up, but with the effort of climbing and generally slow speed, I stayed warm. At the top of the pass, the rain had a hint of mixing rain snow sleet mix. While there was no accumulation, it did not fall like normal rain. The temperature dropped drastically once over the peak. After the first mile or so, I stopped and put on every layer I could, and I was so greatful I had thermals with me that I hadnt used since NY. My insulated leather gloves also came in handy. I was planning on camping, but the 40* temps and rain were a perfect combination to wimp out and get a motel for the night. A few miles before Wallace, ID I did find a paved rail trail that would take me down the remainder of Lookout Pass.
Leaving Miles City, I had lost one day in my skip-a-day plan. I put my head down, and started putting serious mileage behind me. I made it to Billings, MT. I was on the interstate all day, with moderate headwinds and climbing. I was starting get a head cold, but I just kept pushing through. 3 flat tires in a day is discouraging when your trying to make that kind of mileage in a day. I didn't know anywhere to camp in Billings, and I felt like garbage, so I got another cheap motel. This cheap motel, well, it was the biggest dump I stayed in the entire trip. The door framing was packed with newspaper to "stop draft." The sink took about 5 minutes to drain per 30 seconds of running water. I literally slept in my sleeping bag on top of the bed. The next morning I was up early and feeling just as crummy. I could not breathe through my nose, which may have been convenient to avoid the stench of cigarettes in my wonderful "non-smoking" room. If I was in a nicer place I would have considered a day of rest to kick the cold. Instead I made the 120+ ride to Livingston, MT. My original plan was to ride to Big Timber, but I was making good enough time, so I decded to make the push. A generally uneventful day with considerable climbing, but still rolling hills and not yet mountain passes. Leaving Livingston I had a decent jump on the day. Exit hills, enter mountains. I started the day with a nice 14 mile climb. Mid day I had another 10 or so mile climb, and to finish it all off, I cleared the Continental Divide (Homestake Pass), about 16-17 mile climb, bringing me into Butte. When I say climb, I'm not talking about gradually gaining elevation. I am talking 4-5% continous grade with a 6-7% grade Pass for about 3 miles at the top. These are generalized numbers. I think its important to rememeber at this point, I am riding a fully self supported touring bike weighing in at no less than 85lbs, typically closer to 90-100 with sufficient food and water supply. I have two options on these climbs: sit and spin at high cadence, or gear down, stand up, and crank each pedal stroke with all of my 145lbs. Neither way is easy, and as any cyclist knows, the different pedal storkes work different muscle groups. The biggest thing I notice with the loaded bike, is that when standing up and pedaling, you can't push as hard as you can on an empty bike due to the fact and the side to side balance and resistance.
All this bitching about the climb. What goes up, must come down. There really isn't a way to describe the feeling of cruising at 30-40mph on a bicycle for 10-15 minutes at a shot. It is an amazing feeling. It certainly seems short lived after the 1-2 hour constant grind to get there, but the high you experience is hard to top. The gyroscopic effect sets in on the wheels and the bicycle can be controlled much like a motorcycle at speed where you simple lean your head, and the slightest weight shift sets you into an arching corner. Dropping down the Continental Divide into Butte, I litterally had to slow down so that I wasn't passing trucks decending in low gear. While it would have been fun and exciting to say that I did pass a truck, the chance of a truck blowing a tire or any other number of things going wrong was too high, and it wasn't worth risking my life.
After Butte, I was on my way to Missoula. This day started with brutal headwinds and a nasty looking storm front was heading my way. I took a quick stop out of the wind in an underpass to call for a weather report. After my proven-most-reliable weatherman Allan S. helped me out, I knew I was going to get wet, but it looked like the thunderstorms were minor, and slim to no threat of hail. Pushing on in the wind, I hear/see the moving billboard of a rental RV eastbound beeping and waving. Now, I get several cars a day giving a friendly beep and wave, typically either a hippy rig covered in stickers or a vehicle with bike racks, but this has been the only rental RV. I knew my friends from VT were taking a rental RV trip in Montana at this same time. The coincidence was amazing that we had passed each other! As it turns out, they had seen me earlier, turned around to find me, but I was in the underpass getting a weather report, so they missed me. After
ransacking the small town of Drummond, they thought it was a lost cause, and continued east, until, once again, they saw me. Return chase, this time they caught me. We had late lunch together in Drummond. They'll probably read this at some point so: it was really cool to see you guys on the other side of the country! Shortly after Drummond the rain set in, and then set in heavier. I continued to Missoula where I spent the night with family of a friend. I had never met the family before and I cannot express how thankful I am for their great hospitality!
Departing Missoula in the rain, I could see what kind of day it was going to be...you guessed it....wet. I have a long 70 mile "phantom" descent into St. Regis. It was generally downhill, but the grade was so mellow, it certainly didn't feel like it, especially with the wind and rain. There was supposed to be some sort of rail trail that lead out of St. Regis and connect to Wallace, ID. The day was getting late, and after a second failed attempt of trying to find the trail, I didn't want to waste anymore time, So back onto I-90 I went. Lookout Pass was not as bad as I was expecting after all the hype. It was about 30 miles of mellow grade and 3 miles of steep at the top. The top of the pass was the point where I crossed into Idaho and Pacific Time. The western side of the pass was also much colder. The eastern side was rain the whole way up, but with the effort of climbing and generally slow speed, I stayed warm. At the top of the pass, the rain had a hint of mixing rain snow sleet mix. While there was no accumulation, it did not fall like normal rain. The temperature dropped drastically once over the peak. After the first mile or so, I stopped and put on every layer I could, and I was so greatful I had thermals with me that I hadnt used since NY. My insulated leather gloves also came in handy. I was planning on camping, but the 40* temps and rain were a perfect combination to wimp out and get a motel for the night. A few miles before Wallace, ID I did find a paved rail trail that would take me down the remainder of Lookout Pass.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
MN to eastern/central MT
6/26/13...way late type up and update
"I'm going to update my blog regularly," I said.
I know there is a decent sized following of people truly interested in following my blog. I am sorry that I have been so lame at keeping up with it. Since the last post I have ridden North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, and Washington, and completed my journey. In this post I will do the best I can to give an interesting review of that part of the trip, and I will make another post for finishing and follow-up.
My original plan to cross ND and MT was the "high-line," US Route 2 all the way. I wanted to avoid the interstate, and not zig and zag the entire way across the country. Route 2 seemed to be a good option. That was until I started asking some locals for some info. Turns out northern ND and into eastern MT is all oil country. So, they're drilling oil...whats the difference? Heavy traffic, bad roads, and worse outlaws. I was told point blank, "If you try to ride US 2 through northwestern ND, you WILL be killed, either by a truck on the road, or a dirt bag at the bar." At first, when I was told "Don't go north unless you are armed, I thought they were joking, and laughed it off. I heard it again from a completely separate source, and my eyebrows lifted with curiosity. More and more congruent reports led the the decision of staying alive and trying to parallel the interstate closely through ND. This was where the real adventure began. At this point in the trip, I was able to ride high mileage days consistently, and started making true progress. Knocking off 115 miles in a day began to be standard fare, and 140 wasn't insane or unachievable anymore.
North Dakota was actually much more enjoyable than I had expected. I did face headwinds, but I also had a few lucky days with tail winds. Perhaps the most adventurous, epic memory day, coincidentally was my longest day. From Valley City, ND to Bismarck, ND I rode 157+ miles in a single day. I had not yet discovered the magic of the interstate on a bicycle, so I attempted to run the secondary highways. This day I rode about 65 miles of gravel roads, a few of which would suddenly be closed without notice, and the bail out road was about 10 miles back. At one point, I was traveling a small path with two wheel line of dirt, grass in between, and a swamp surrounding. This path ended at a huge flood lake. I could see there was another road through the swamp, other the train tracks, and through a field, about 1/8th of a mile south of where I was. I shrugged my shoulders and went for it. A few minutes later I had successfully crossed over, and began westward progress once again. It was only about 15 minutes before this road also came to a close at the same lake. This time I could see the road emerge from the lake about a mile or so straight across the lake. At this point, I could see where the farmers drove through the field and started a new "road" for local access. I followed suit, and busted out some mountain biking motives and rode through the field, which seemed reasonable considering the situation. I then buried my bike to the axels in mud, so I "decided," I had to walk that section. Finally back on route, I made it to the next town. Local intel was I would be running into the same situation for at least the next 30 miles until the highway bypass became a paved reliable route into Bismarck. I timidly entered Interstate 94 for the first time. At first it was scary, but I got used to the 85mph traffic. I still used the secondary highway at first realistic opportunity. Having a good friend in Bismarck, I decided to take my first rest day in 3 weeks. Rest day, haha, good one... . Evan B. brought me to his local gym for my first session of Crossfit. For those of you that don't know, Crossfit is a high intensity workout program. It was a lot of fun, but I certainly felt like I had my 4$$ handed to me afterwards. We also went to a bike shop in town, and I tested out a really sweet 9:zero:7 fat bike!
I left Bismarck on June 13th, my 21st birthday. I got an early start and made slamming good mileage. I planned on riding to Dickinson (about 100 miles,) but I made it there by about 2 or 3, so I pushed another 40 miles or so to Medora, ND. Medora is in the center of the ND badlands, and was epic visually. I should also add that ND is not all flat. West of Bismarck, real hills exist! Feeling like a champ, I had decided to ride from Medora to Miles City, MT the next day, about 140 miles again. I was absolutely slammed with headwinds and had to call it for the day in Glendive, MT, at less than half my planned mileage. It took all of the next day battling the wind to eventually make it to Miles City. The first day in the wind was probably the most stressful day of the whole trip, both physically and mentally. The consistent 20mph wind gusting to 35 or so makes a horrid sound whistling through a bike helmet, eventually leading to a horrid headache. The side gusting literally blew me of the shoulder twice, and I was blown into a guard rail as well. Trying to counter the winds, my chest, shoulders, and arms were spent. I put in twice the effort as a typical day, and still came up with less than half of my mileage, it was depressing and crushed my spirit. The forecast showed the same thing for the next day. Being mentally prepared for it the second day, it was certainly still a struggle, but not nearly what it was the day before. These two wind days were the first time I had decided to utilize the interstate. Coming into Montana, the secondary highways were even less consistent than in ND, and the only other direct west route being the feared Route 2, the interstate became a decent option. After all I did have a 6-7 foot shoulder with a rumble strip separating myself and traffic.
As I entered Miles City, I was starving, but I had a few hours 'till dark. Not being pressed to set camp, I stopped in the local grocery store. I have to say, I am that weird guy who actually enjoys grocery shopping. I love to eat, and I eat a lot, even more while riding as much as I was. Grocery shopping and trying to eat healthy for a reasonable price is extremely difficult while bike touring. I would regularly buy a quart of strawberries, and a pint of blueberries, a hlaf- full gallon of chocolate milk and eat/drink them all in a single sitting. This particular trip to the store, hunger got the best of me. I had nearly a full shopping cart, and a huge smile on my face, just thinking about devouring my selections. That grin quickly turned to a frown when I looked at my bike, with very little space to spare for food. I bought a cake....a whole cake. I bought a quart of chocolate pudding, a half gallon of chocolate milk, a half gallon of juice, a big bag of mixed fruits, and various high carb snacks. I stuffed what I could into my panniers, and strapped on the rest in plastic bags. I also ate a lot of it right there in the parking lot. Now, looking like a hobo on a high end bike, I proceeded through town. A friendly hippy on a scooter cruised up behind me after a friendly wave. After a bit of small talk, I was soon camping in his backyard. He had to head to work, so I just hung out by a campfire and ate more food. He came back around 9PM with a to go box FULL of steak, potatoes, and pasta. We hung out around the fire drinking beers, talking about everything from hot rods, to UFO's, until about midnight. I woke up, an packed up. He was either up and gone for the day, or still sleeping, but I never saw him again. Thanks for everything "Uncle Craig," as he told me his name was.
MN to eastern/central MT
6/26/13...way late type up and update
"I'm going to update my blog regularly," I said.
I know there is a decent sized following of people truly interested in following my blog. I am sorry that I have been so lame at keeping up with it. Since the last post I have ridden North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, and Washington, and completed my journey. In this post I will do the best I can to give an interesting review of that part of the trip, and I will make another post for finishing and follow-up.
My original plan to cross ND and MT was the "high-line," US Route 2 all the way. I wanted to avoid the interstate, and not zig and zag the entire way across the country. Route 2 seemed to be a good option. That was until I started asking some locals for some info. Turns out northern ND and into eastern MT is all oil country. So, they're drilling oil...whats the difference? Heavy traffic, bad roads, and worse outlaws. I was told point blank, "If you try to ride US 2 through northwestern ND, you WILL be killed, either by a truck on the road, or a dirt bag at the bar." At first, when I was told "Don't go north unless you are armed, I thought they were joking, and laughed it off. I heard it again from a completely separate source, and my eyebrows lifted with curiosity. More and more congruent reports led the the decision of staying alive and trying to parallel the interstate closely through ND. This was where the real adventure began. At this point in the trip, I was able to ride high mileage days consistently, and started making true progress. Knocking off 115 miles in a day began to be standard fare, and 140 wasn't insane or unachievable anymore.
North Dakota was actually much more enjoyable than I had expected. I did face headwinds, but I also had a few lucky days with tail winds. Perhaps the most adventurous, epic memory day, coincidentally was my longest day. From Valley City, ND to Bismarck, ND I rode 157+ miles in a single day. I had not yet discovered the magic of the interstate on a bicycle, so I attempted to run the secondary highways. This day I rode about 65 miles of gravel roads, a few of which would suddenly be closed without notice, and the bail out road was about 10 miles back. At one point, I was traveling a small path with two wheel line of dirt, grass in between, and a swamp surrounding. This path ended at a huge flood lake. I could see there was another road through the swamp, other the train tracks, and through a field, about 1/8th of a mile south of where I was. I shrugged my shoulders and went for it. A few minutes later I had successfully crossed over, and began westward progress once again. It was only about 15 minutes before this road also came to a close at the same lake. This time I could see the road emerge from the lake about a mile or so straight across the lake. At this point, I could see where the farmers drove through the field and started a new "road" for local access. I followed suit, and busted out some mountain biking motives and rode through the field, which seemed reasonable considering the situation. I then buried my bike to the axels in mud, so I "decided," I had to walk that section. Finally back on route, I made it to the next town. Local intel was I would be running into the same situation for at least the next 30 miles until the highway bypass became a paved reliable route into Bismarck. I timidly entered Interstate 94 for the first time. At first it was scary, but I got used to the 85mph traffic. I still used the secondary highway at first realistic opportunity. Having a good friend in Bismarck, I decided to take my first rest day in 3 weeks. Rest day, haha, good one... . Evan B. brought me to his local gym for my first session of Crossfit. For those of you that don't know, Crossfit is a high intensity workout program. It was a lot of fun, but I certainly felt like I had my 4$$ handed to me afterwards. We also went to a bike shop in town, and I tested out a really sweet 9:zero:7 fat bike!
I left Bismarck on June 13th, my 21st birthday. I got an early start and made slamming good mileage. I planned on riding to Dickinson (about 100 miles,) but I made it there by about 2 or 3, so I pushed another 40 miles or so to Medora, ND. Medora is in the center of the ND badlands, and was epic visually. I should also add that ND is not all flat. West of Bismarck, real hills exist! Feeling like a champ, I had decided to ride from Medora to Miles City, MT the next day, about 140 miles again. I was absolutely slammed with headwinds and had to call it for the day in Glendive, MT, at less than half my planned mileage. It took all of the next day battling the wind to eventually make it to Miles City. The first day in the wind was probably the most stressful day of the whole trip, both physically and mentally. The consistent 20mph wind gusting to 35 or so makes a horrid sound whistling through a bike helmet, eventually leading to a horrid headache. The side gusting literally blew me of the shoulder twice, and I was blown into a guard rail as well. Trying to counter the winds, my chest, shoulders, and arms were spent. I put in twice the effort as a typical day, and still came up with less than half of my mileage, it was depressing and crushed my spirit. The forecast showed the same thing for the next day. Being mentally prepared for it the second day, it was certainly still a struggle, but not nearly what it was the day before. These two wind days were the first time I had decided to utilize the interstate. Coming into Montana, the secondary highways were even less consistent than in ND, and the only other direct west route being the feared Route 2, the interstate became a decent option. After all I did have a 6-7 foot shoulder with a rumble strip separating myself and traffic.
As I entered Miles City, I was starving, but I had a few hours 'till dark. Not being pressed to set camp, I stopped in the local grocery store. I have to say, I am that weird guy who actually enjoys grocery shopping. I love to eat, and I eat a lot, even more while riding as much as I was. Grocery shopping and trying to eat healthy for a reasonable price is extremely difficult while bike touring. I would regularly buy a quart of strawberries, and a pint of blueberries, a hlaf- full gallon of chocolate milk and eat/drink them all in a single sitting. This particular trip to the store, hunger got the best of me. I had nearly a full shopping cart, and a huge smile on my face, just thinking about devouring my selections. That grin quickly turned to a frown when I looked at my bike, with very little space to spare for food. I bought a cake....a whole cake. I bought a quart of chocolate pudding, a half gallon of chocolate milk, a half gallon of juice, a big bag of mixed fruits, and various high carb snacks. I stuffed what I could into my panniers, and strapped on the rest in plastic bags. I also ate a lot of it right there in the parking lot. Now, looking like a hobo on a high end bike, I proceeded through town. A friendly hippy on a scooter cruised up behind me after a friendly wave. After a bit of small talk, I was soon camping in his backyard. He had to head to work, so I just hung out by a campfire and ate more food. He came back around 9PM with a to go box FULL of steak, potatoes, and pasta. We hung out around the fire drinking beers, talking about everything from hot rods, to UFO's, until about midnight. I woke up, an packed up. He was either up and gone for the day, or still sleeping, but I never saw him again. Thanks for everything "Uncle Craig," as he told me his name was.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Title....this should work.
6/8/13
4 weeks + 1 day from departure.
It has been about 2 weeks since I have seen another person that I know. It's not my first time going this long solo, but its never easy. Sure, I interact with people, but I certainly miss my friends and family from home. The weather has been cooperating a bit better the last few days, and I am hoping it continues this way. It hasn't been blazing hot or brutal sun, which is good. It also hasn't been pouring rain for a few days. The consistent overcast does get a bit depressing, but I wont complain, because sunscreen sucks.
I have been pushing consistently high mileage days, which is awesome! I haven't taken a day off since I left home for the doctor visit. When you ride 80-110 miles fully loaded everyday, live in a tent, and occasionally a h/motel when the weather truly sucks, and it your body doesn't hate you everyday, it is hard not to feel like your in the best shape of your life. That's living off fast/gas station food, and just add water meals too, I can't wait for healthy home cooked meal! I am looking forward to possibly taking a day off for my birthday this week, but depending on how logistics work out, I may just keep riding.
I just "zoomed out" on the map for the first time in a while, and was pleased with progress. It has taken four weeks to get about half way across the country, which is pretty much dead on with what I had planned initially. Its not a race, but I do like sticking to the plan, and seeing how far and hard I can push. I could easily add mileage to everyday, but logistically it doesn't always work out. I am not out for a ride for the day, everyday. I have to consider where I can set up camp or get a room for the night. I need to get meals (lots of them.) I need to ride smart everyday, so that I can wake up the next day and do it over again. There is no sense pushing 150 miles one day, if I could only do 35 the day after.
"Zooming out" also gave me a very isolated feeling. As inspiring as it is to know that I rode so far under my own power, I feel so small, in such a big place. I know all of one person in a 1000 mile radius around me. I am enjoying the trip, but I honestly have to say I am looking forward to being done at this point. I am not going to cheat or quit, but I do want to push just to finish. I am not a "sight-seer" and the logistics of high mileage do not allow for much quality interaction with other people. Living in a tent, with spotty showers, progressively more disgusting clothing, and generally less than healthy food, is getting old. There are definitely moments of "this is the best thing ever," as well as moments of "why the f^(k did I want to do this." The general feeling now has become "I am glad I will accomplish this feat, but I miss comfortable life." I will tour more again after this trip. I do think that much more than two weeks solo will be avoided. I would also like to trade my ride in for a mountain touring bike. I have passed so many awesome looking MTB trails, that I would gladly take a day off trip progress to ride and explore, but with a road touring rig, I would destroy my bike, or myself.
I don't mean to make it sound like my life is miserable out here. There are parts of my days where, in between the pain, boredom, and loneliness, I feel invincible, or at complete peace with the world. I live for the push, the endorphin rush from physical exhaustion, and the overwhelming sense of accomplishment when finished (at least for the day.) I wish I was better with words to describe the feeling. On extremely long days, there comes a point when the pain stops, and everything gets smooth and peaceful. I don't have to think about pedaling, my legs are on auto-pilot, I'm just along for the ride. THESE are the moments that make this ride worth it for me.
I don't mean to make it sound like my life is miserable out here. There are parts of my days where, in between the pain, boredom, and loneliness, I feel invincible, or at complete peace with the world. I live for the push, the endorphin rush from physical exhaustion, and the overwhelming sense of accomplishment when finished (at least for the day.) I wish I was better with words to describe the feeling. On extremely long days, there comes a point when the pain stops, and everything gets smooth and peaceful. I don't have to think about pedaling, my legs are on auto-pilot, I'm just along for the ride. THESE are the moments that make this ride worth it for me.
6/9/13
After typing this up last night, I was concerned I may have jynxed my weather luck. Well, I did. I woke up to pouring rain, and was hesitant and slow to even get out of my tent this morning. Once I finally got rolling, things worked out. I got breakfast on the house at a small cafe, which is always a good start! Once on the rail trail connecting St. Joseph and Fergus Falls (100+ miles,) I was enjoying not being on the highway being hit with road spray from passing cars. I met up with some other touring riders and rode with the for a bit. It was nice to ride with some other people for a bit, but our paces ended up separating us. Rolling through town, I met up with Dave Jensen who just finished a California to Florida tour! Currently I am enjoying his great hospitality and shelter from the rain! Check out his travels: http://dreambigtour.net/
After typing this up last night, I was concerned I may have jynxed my weather luck. Well, I did. I woke up to pouring rain, and was hesitant and slow to even get out of my tent this morning. Once I finally got rolling, things worked out. I got breakfast on the house at a small cafe, which is always a good start! Once on the rail trail connecting St. Joseph and Fergus Falls (100+ miles,) I was enjoying not being on the highway being hit with road spray from passing cars. I met up with some other touring riders and rode with the for a bit. It was nice to ride with some other people for a bit, but our paces ended up separating us. Rolling through town, I met up with Dave Jensen who just finished a California to Florida tour! Currently I am enjoying his great hospitality and shelter from the rain! Check out his travels: http://dreambigtour.net/
Thank you everyone who is behind me. It is truly inspiring to know that I have a solid following, fan club, and support team. Extra thanks to Dave for the hospitality!
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
I'm not good at titles.
6/4/13
It hasn't been too long since I last updated timewise, but I have logged some serious mileage since then. Still, the weather has continued to be spotty, but it looks like things may be starting to dry up for a bit (fingers crossed.) So since I last updated my blog I have come through Niagara Falls, crossed the border into Ontario, stayed one night, and then pushed the the longest day (146+miles) on a bike in my life back to the States, to be greeted with a thunderstorm and expensive camping. I proceeded to head west in bad weather, utilizing some hotels through Detroit outskirts and Lansing. In better weather I road west to the western Michigan shore, got on the Lake Express which brought me from Muskegon to Milwaukee, WI, and I pedaled out of my city the first day. That brings me to now.
I wont leave it a vague as that.
Ontario was a neat experience; it was my first time ever leaving the US, which was exciting and a bit intimidating doing it alone. I made decent time in the morning and made break for a park much farther than originally planned. The first thing I noticed is that Canadians were several years behind the states in architecture, signage, and styling. The economy seemed to be in the shitter, judging by buildings and general cleanliness, however they all drove souped up, shiny new cars. Once I cleared the tourist city limits, I found myself in the middle of nowhere. A gas station was about all I was going to find outside of a "large" town. Feeling good, and wanting out of Canada, I figured I could make in to Michigan the next day in about 120 miles. I was short by a good 20 miles, which is considerable when your talking 120 vs 140 on a bicycle. I wanted to hit 25-30 miles before food, but I am glad I stopped at 17, because the next decent food source other than candy bars and ice cream sandwiches was at mile 82 at 4PM! This is also where i used a library computer to discover I had 60 more miles to the US border. It was one hell of a push, but I made it!
Welcome to Michigan, can I leave now? Michigan has been my least favorite place yet. Past New Baltimore, I began to get into Detroit overflow, and played sidewalk superhero for seemingly endless days. Rough roads, super highways, harsh sidewalk transitions, and randomly ending sidewalks and paths led to some interesting times. I am glad my bike held up to the abuse, and I am hoping my major metropolitan experiences are over until Portland, OR. Milwaukee, WI was a much better experience. Although rough, dedicated bike lanes were both utilized by bikes, and respected by drivers. After asked and officer where to avoid in the city, I followed his advice, and kept the lake in view until I needed to traverse west, where I found a nice bike/ walk only route, which gave me a few miles off the roads. County and State highways are a bit rough, with large cracks every so often, but its better than the urban jungle.
Again, the weather has been brutal. It seems like every other 2 days I am back riding in the rain, and hiding out in a hotel for another night. The experience has been great, when the weather cooperates.
Again, the weather has been brutal. It seems like every other 2 days I am back riding in the rain, and hiding out in a hotel for another night. The experience has been great, when the weather cooperates.
Thanks to everyone from Denny's Central Park Bikes in Okemos, MI! www.dennyscentralparkbikes.com
Huge thanks Bobby Hunt from The Bicycle Shop in Hartford, Wisconsin. I went in looking for some new bar tape, and ended up with some beautiful new bars, with amazingly comfortable wrap, at a sweet deal! I highly recomend checking out his small, yet high-end shop. It is always nice to meet another bike addict who has a respect for quality rides, from cutting edge to classics. www.hartfordbikeshop.com
1705 miles ridden as of upload. 2 days into Wisconsin, one more will put me at the border, or just into Minnesota.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
thoughts from the road.
quick notes of random thoughts than go through my head while riding:
thoughts from the road:
->dear rainman- I said i wanted to pedal my bike across the country, not paddle a boat. no need to fill the streets with water!!
->dear asshole in the diesel that needs to "roll coal" in my face- I drive a diesel too, thanks. your not cool, your an insecure fucktard
->im hungry
->this rain sucks
->i need to lube my chain...seriously, i will tonight, no really i wont forget
-> ahhh the old disappearing shoulder act again
-> voice of kimo "you know there are planes that go there"
->god damn, why is kimos voice stuck in my head
->east to west, "the headwinds are gunna suck!" they said, "ill be fine" i said. valid point they had.
-> i honestly dont have a better answer for the question "why are you doing this" than "why not"
->why do all dogs hate bikers?
->please dont eat me, dog.
->please dont rob me, dawg.
->im hungry again
->is it pets mart, or pet smart?
-> "your ass is mine"
->this place looked a lot smaller on the map
-> haha.... prius.
-> am i there yet?
->its lunch time and i have ridden less than half of the day, less than half of yesterday, or tomorrow, and ive already ridden my bike farther in a day than most people do in a year
->o yay, lunchtime
->i just ate, why am i hungry already?
->"your gunna get fat on this trip." haha idiot
->just keep riding, just keep riding....thanks dory...
->how much wood COULD a wood chuck chuck if a woodchuck could indeed chuck wood?
->it'll get easier after this hill
->it never actually gets easier. idiot.
->im hungry.
-> SNAKE! o, just another bungee cord.
-> that one was actually a snake, sorry guy.
-> "CARRY OOOOONNN owww oowww wooowwoowww..."
-> i should take more pictures...but im not going to stop now.
->dear rainman- I said i wanted to pedal my bike across the country, not paddle a boat. no need to fill the streets with water!!
->dear asshole in the diesel that needs to "roll coal" in my face- I drive a diesel too, thanks. your not cool, your an insecure fucktard
->im hungry
->this rain sucks
->i need to lube my chain...seriously, i will tonight, no really i wont forget
-> ahhh the old disappearing shoulder act again
-> voice of kimo "you know there are planes that go there"
->god damn, why is kimos voice stuck in my head
->east to west, "the headwinds are gunna suck!" they said, "ill be fine" i said. valid point they had.
-> i honestly dont have a better answer for the question "why are you doing this" than "why not"
->why do all dogs hate bikers?
->please dont eat me, dog.
->please dont rob me, dawg.
->im hungry again
->is it pets mart, or pet smart?
-> "your ass is mine"
->this place looked a lot smaller on the map
-> haha.... prius.
-> am i there yet?
->its lunch time and i have ridden less than half of the day, less than half of yesterday, or tomorrow, and ive already ridden my bike farther in a day than most people do in a year
->o yay, lunchtime
->i just ate, why am i hungry already?
->"your gunna get fat on this trip." haha idiot
->just keep riding, just keep riding....thanks dory...
->how much wood COULD a wood chuck chuck if a woodchuck could indeed chuck wood?
->it'll get easier after this hill
->it never actually gets easier. idiot.
->im hungry.
-> SNAKE! o, just another bungee cord.
-> that one was actually a snake, sorry guy.
-> "CARRY OOOOONNN owww oowww wooowwoowww..."
-> i should take more pictures...but im not going to stop now.
Weather, It can make it, or break it.
What a difference the weather makes!
Typed on 5/26/13
Typed on 5/26/13
No matter how prepared you think you are, the reality is never quite what you thought it would be.
I returned to Halfmoon Pond State Park in two days from home. Like an idiot, I didn't take advantage of a perfect dry shelter for the night to dry out my tent from the heavy rain and thunder storms the night before. Getting back on route, I headed west to Great Sacandaga Lake, and had another very wet night. The following day didn't not dry out at all, so I called it short in Dolgeville and got a $40 room for the night. Compared to $25-30 for camping the last two stops, it was a no brainer! This time I took full advantage and hung my tent up in my room for the night. The next morning, It was still pouring but I decide to push on, and after 50 miles or so I started getting dryer weather and heavy winds. This was the day I traded in hills for headwinds, and let me put this on record, I will take a hill over a headwind, any day of the year. Dryer weather made all the difference in my view on the world. Not that its peaches and cream when it is dry, but it certainly isn't the constant misery of pouring rain.
With a dry night of FREE camping in a practically deserted county park, and even my own private pavilion, on the western Lake Oneida Shore, I was lined up for an on schedule Canadian border crossing Wednesday. Today I tried sightseeing for the first time. I knew it was a short day, and had heard that Chimney Bluffs on Lake Oneida was worth the visit. It was alright, I suppose, but honestly not worth even the short 15 mile detour in my opinion. There was a short hike, that I am sure offered better views of the Bluff, but with afternoon passing quickly, and ~20 miles to camp that night, I didn't want to risk the unknown. Sure enough, about 7 miles out, I blew a pedal bearing, and the pedal came right off the tapered spindle. On road decision was deal with it falling off and get to camp. I rigged up a tin can washer that holds the pedal body on the spindle, spinning with out bearings bushings, or spacers, and my foot rubs the crank arm as well, but it will be better than it constantly falling off, and I cant "limp" to a fix in hopefully less than 50 miles. The biggest catch is the fact that tomorrow is Memorial Day, so most quality shops will be closed and my options are down to big box garbage, but at this point I'll take a flat pedal over a bearingless clipless.
5/28/13 update:
Haven't had internet yet, so I may as well make this up-to-date. I found a bike shop open in Rochester. Burts Bikes, the place was HUGE. They have two other stores and close to 5000 bikes between the three shops. I got some Crank Bro's Candy 3's and was on my way.
Haven't had internet yet, so I may as well make this up-to-date. I found a bike shop open in Rochester. Burts Bikes, the place was HUGE. They have two other stores and close to 5000 bikes between the three shops. I got some Crank Bro's Candy 3's and was on my way.
Jumped on the Erie Canal Trial for a while which was a nice change from the urban nightmare of Rochester where a beautiful bike lane in the matter of an intersection would change to a 65 mph zone, with no bike lane, no shoulder, a guard rail, no side walk, an a gravel bank past the guard rail.
Rolled into camp, I wont say where, but managed to swing free camping WITH a shower...pro status. Rain today just after I broke my tent down. 70+ miles in the rain, and still pouring, with extremely dark skies, another $40 room is warm and comfy.
I am setting into a good rhythm. I wish the weather would dry out for more than two days at most. I like being on the road, but I am getting tired of being wet and cold.
This one is going out to my amazing friends close and far. Thanks for helping out with the "Hey google this for me," and, "Whats the weather going to do?" phone calls. Thanks for talking me out of being a little bitch when things get hard. Respect and Love! Hope to see you all soon!
CRD
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Ketchup
Well, I know, it's been a while. unfortunately due to technical difficulty and lack of urgent concern, this is my first post from the road. Technically day 11 now, but sadly only my 7th day of real mileage gain. The trip started out with a few really wet days, and boy am I glad things have dried up a bit!
Emotions and feelings about the trip have been all over the map. To look back at my track and progress is very satisfying, but the day to day grind on the shoulder of the road, alone, is pretty lame. At the pace I have been pushing there is no time for sight-seeing or people meeting, just a day after day hammerfest. I have decided to change my route from below the great lakes to through them via Canada. this will help save some mileage and time, and will keep things a bit more interesting. The physical aspect of the push is great, however the boredom factor of being on the road all day is a bit lame.
I am looking forward to planning Ride The Divide next year, and hopefully I could find a partner. Being in the woods as opposed to the shoulder of the road sounds awesome!
I am currently returning o the trip from a short medically concerned hiatus. Since my fall about a week before the trip, the swelling turned into fluid build up, and It now seems as though I am smuggling water balloons in my hip. The doc didn't seem concerned at all, and honestly was quite uninformative and extremely unhelpful (aren't the usually?) I keep feeling like it was a huge waste of time, but I am trying to focus on the positives; I feel slightly more safe with the condition of my hip, I was forced to take some time off to reevaluate the trip from a calm stand point, and I got to ride my mountain bike a bit while I was home!
Maybe the technical difficulties were good and saved readers from reading the day by day write-up of what would probably be super boring to outsiders. Thanks for following! Extra huge thanks to my parents for everything, I know I don't say it enough, and for that I am sorry, but I truly love you guys, and I really appreciate you always having my back!
Sorry for spelling and grammar, no auto correct and modern technology has made me a rah-tard.
CRD
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Thats gunna leave a mark!
Reality is a bitch. I’ve been saying lately that it isn’t truly an adventure if everything goes to plan. I still stand by that statement, however, some things that go wrong can end the adventure all together. With everything going so well, I was starting to forget about my concerns, which isn't so great either.
With less than a week to go before I leave, I hadn’t even ridding the touring bike fully loaded aside from a couple miles here and there. Sunday, (May 5th) I finally took the time to take it out for a real ride, yet still much shorter than any one proposed day on the trip. The 75lbs of gear and bike, were definitely “all there” on hills, yet it climbed nicely and rolled out on flats and descents incredibly. Instead of riding my originally planned route, I kept adding mileage, I had time, I felt great. Many of my concerns of the trip were starting to go away.
On the last leg of ride, heading back home to make some minor adjustments on the bike, repack a few things, etc I was stoked on the trip. “Given all day, I can ride a century [100 miles] everyday, no problems.”
As a road biker, you learn rather quickly who has dogs. Typically, I like dogs, not so much as a biker/cyclist. Anywho, I knew that there were dogs at this particular house, but they’ve always been behind a picket fence. Not seeing the fence, I was concerned, so I left a bit of extra room on the shoulder and kept my speed up. Just as I thought I was clear of the property, Odie made a break for it on his new leash, that apparently, allowed him into the road. Not seeing a leash, and seeing a dog making his way into the road, I attempted to swerve. Turns out my fully loaded touring bike doesn’t handle quite the same as my carbon road bike. The details of the crash are a bit blurry. Somehow my legs have zero road rash. My helmet is well scratched but preliminary check didn’t show any more damage. Some upper body road rash and my right hip took quite a slam. Extremely thankful I had a very good helmet on.
Shaken up, I hobbled the 15 feet back to my bike. Bars tweaked about 45* brake levers spun, hoods all mangled. The worst was that my beautiful waterproof Ortlieb panniers are no longer waterproof (atleast the right rear.) **Gorilla Tape saves the day** Knowing what was to come, I got back on my bike and started home before I stiffened up and couldn’t ride. I hit my head good, I had no idea what time it was, but could remember everything else. Even though I was only a few miles from home, I felt alone, and scared. I hope to hell I don’t have a repeat on my tour, but it is a possibility. I would definitely be taking a day+ to recover. Life goes on, and so will my trip, but the few miles after the crash was definitely emotionally testing. Those few miles were the first, and hopefully only, time I have considered bailing on the trip, since I made the commitment. This whole incident was a bummer, but perhaps a necessary reality check. Never let your guard down.
X- Rays came back clean. I haven’t been on a substantial ride since the crash. My hip is still quite swollen, but it is easier to ride a bike than it is to walk. With two and a half days until the tour, I don’t feel a need to postpone the trip. Unfortunately it looks like the past 2-3 weeks of perfect weather will end just in time for my departure and my first day might be quite wet.
Barring major events, next post will be from on the road. Thanks for following everyone!
With less than a week to go before I leave, I hadn’t even ridding the touring bike fully loaded aside from a couple miles here and there. Sunday, (May 5th) I finally took the time to take it out for a real ride, yet still much shorter than any one proposed day on the trip. The 75lbs of gear and bike, were definitely “all there” on hills, yet it climbed nicely and rolled out on flats and descents incredibly. Instead of riding my originally planned route, I kept adding mileage, I had time, I felt great. Many of my concerns of the trip were starting to go away.
On the last leg of ride, heading back home to make some minor adjustments on the bike, repack a few things, etc I was stoked on the trip. “Given all day, I can ride a century [100 miles] everyday, no problems.”
As a road biker, you learn rather quickly who has dogs. Typically, I like dogs, not so much as a biker/cyclist. Anywho, I knew that there were dogs at this particular house, but they’ve always been behind a picket fence. Not seeing the fence, I was concerned, so I left a bit of extra room on the shoulder and kept my speed up. Just as I thought I was clear of the property, Odie made a break for it on his new leash, that apparently, allowed him into the road. Not seeing a leash, and seeing a dog making his way into the road, I attempted to swerve. Turns out my fully loaded touring bike doesn’t handle quite the same as my carbon road bike. The details of the crash are a bit blurry. Somehow my legs have zero road rash. My helmet is well scratched but preliminary check didn’t show any more damage. Some upper body road rash and my right hip took quite a slam. Extremely thankful I had a very good helmet on.
Shaken up, I hobbled the 15 feet back to my bike. Bars tweaked about 45* brake levers spun, hoods all mangled. The worst was that my beautiful waterproof Ortlieb panniers are no longer waterproof (atleast the right rear.) **Gorilla Tape saves the day** Knowing what was to come, I got back on my bike and started home before I stiffened up and couldn’t ride. I hit my head good, I had no idea what time it was, but could remember everything else. Even though I was only a few miles from home, I felt alone, and scared. I hope to hell I don’t have a repeat on my tour, but it is a possibility. I would definitely be taking a day+ to recover. Life goes on, and so will my trip, but the few miles after the crash was definitely emotionally testing. Those few miles were the first, and hopefully only, time I have considered bailing on the trip, since I made the commitment. This whole incident was a bummer, but perhaps a necessary reality check. Never let your guard down.
X- Rays came back clean. I haven’t been on a substantial ride since the crash. My hip is still quite swollen, but it is easier to ride a bike than it is to walk. With two and a half days until the tour, I don’t feel a need to postpone the trip. Unfortunately it looks like the past 2-3 weeks of perfect weather will end just in time for my departure and my first day might be quite wet.
Barring major events, next post will be from on the road. Thanks for following everyone!
Monday, April 29, 2013
Singlespeed-A-Palooza '13
Singlespeed-A-Palooza is a single speed only (hence the name) mountain bike race, organized and promoted by Dark Horse Cycles from Montgomery, NY. 2013 was the 5th year of this race, all which have been on the Stewart Preserve, near the Stewart Airport. This year the course was one 25 mile lap, never retracing where you've already ridden. This was my first year racing SSAP. Initially capped at 250 entries, and with a large following, online registration filled within just a few hours when it opened on February 3. 2013. They later decide to allow 50 additional entries only for smaller classes (women open and sport, fatbike, etc.) Although, last year was my first year racing and spent most of it dealing with injuries and only completed 2 races, I decide to sign up for Pro/Open (112 total entries.)
I am always very nervous before races. "Stay calm," "don't worry about it," "its just a bike race," etc., don't help me sleep any better the night before. I enter races to win. If I don't win, I will always walk away saying I honestly tried the hardest I possibly could. In my opinion, if your going for a bike ride, "Just to have fun," why did you pay to enter an organized race??? Knowing that I probably wasn't going to "win" the entire race my first time in pro/open, I set more realistic goals for myself. I was hoping for top 15 placement, and was shooting for a time of less than 2 hours.
I got down to Stewart early, plenty of time to finally calm myself down after a night full of annoying dreams and anxiety. Once I had signed in, got my number plate, etc I finalized my food/supplement choices for the race, continuing to eat and drink throughout the morning. The I started warming up, alternating short spin rides and stretching. Finally getting close to race time, I decided to go for a bit longer, yet still easy ride, with plenty of time to spare before the race. As I get back, it is 10 minutes before 9am. Perfect, just enough time to stretch again, get a quick shot of electrolytes, hydrate, and still be warm for the start. As I get back I hear, "OK so we're going to get this started a little early!" So I threw myself into the front 20 of the 112, now starting a few minutes before 9.
As the horn sounded, the mass start was off. 112 dudes, bros, men, and monsters, all raging with testosterone, all on bikes with one gear, charging down a 12 foot wide, drainage rut and pot hole filled, loose gravel, dusty road. I had never been in this big of a mass start, and I typically ride alone. It didn't take long to figure out the every one was drafting and using road racing techniques to save a bit more energy before entering the single track. The dust quickly dried my mouth out and I found myself needing water much earlier than I had planned.
The first eight or nine riders entered the single track, I was second in a group of four about 30 feet behind the lead group. I quickly found my goal of keeping the leader in sight withering away. Riders started to spread out rather quickly (at least the top 20 or so) and I set into a good fast pace, with very civilized passing amongst a few riders, either loosing or gaining a position every so often. I was feeling really good. Not having a computer on my bike, I don't know exact mileages of events, but somewhere around 11 miles in I felt something bumping the back of my leg. The rider behind me said, "your seat bag is hanging down." Knowing I would never finish with it like that, I unhappily stopped to fix it. Apparently the strap had ripped, it wasn't just the Velcro that had come undone. After the first fix-it attempt, it fell again, now rubbing on my wheel. I took it off and tried to stuff the bag into my jersey pocket. It fell out, I picked it up and stuffed it in once more, I made it to the next gravel road section, where it fell again. Already having lost about 2 minutes and 6 positions I was not stopping for it. I took off in a sprint, attempting to catch where I had been, which didn't work so well. I burned myself out quick, so I settled back into the same pace, just a few positions back now. I saw the "beer" stand at a bit past the halfway point. I had another full water bottle, no need to stop. Less than a mile after the refill station, my bottle decided to jump the cage and make a break for the trail. No more water. 10+ grueling miles left.
Continuing to an further uneventful finish, I was exhausted and dehydrated, I couldn't control my arms, from a rigid fork on washboard single track, yet I was stoked when I saw 1:46:XX coming across the finish. I knew I didn't place well, but I rode as hard as I physically could have. Results show I came in 18th overall, about 9.5 minutes behind the leader. I am content with my finish and had a good time at the race. Thanks to Revolution Bicycles for the support. HUGE thanks to my parents, family and friends for putting up with me being all crazy for the few days before the race.
Now that the race is over, I can clear my head and focus on my tour, less than two weeks away!!
I am always very nervous before races. "Stay calm," "don't worry about it," "its just a bike race," etc., don't help me sleep any better the night before. I enter races to win. If I don't win, I will always walk away saying I honestly tried the hardest I possibly could. In my opinion, if your going for a bike ride, "Just to have fun," why did you pay to enter an organized race??? Knowing that I probably wasn't going to "win" the entire race my first time in pro/open, I set more realistic goals for myself. I was hoping for top 15 placement, and was shooting for a time of less than 2 hours.
I got down to Stewart early, plenty of time to finally calm myself down after a night full of annoying dreams and anxiety. Once I had signed in, got my number plate, etc I finalized my food/supplement choices for the race, continuing to eat and drink throughout the morning. The I started warming up, alternating short spin rides and stretching. Finally getting close to race time, I decided to go for a bit longer, yet still easy ride, with plenty of time to spare before the race. As I get back, it is 10 minutes before 9am. Perfect, just enough time to stretch again, get a quick shot of electrolytes, hydrate, and still be warm for the start. As I get back I hear, "OK so we're going to get this started a little early!" So I threw myself into the front 20 of the 112, now starting a few minutes before 9.
As the horn sounded, the mass start was off. 112 dudes, bros, men, and monsters, all raging with testosterone, all on bikes with one gear, charging down a 12 foot wide, drainage rut and pot hole filled, loose gravel, dusty road. I had never been in this big of a mass start, and I typically ride alone. It didn't take long to figure out the every one was drafting and using road racing techniques to save a bit more energy before entering the single track. The dust quickly dried my mouth out and I found myself needing water much earlier than I had planned.
The first eight or nine riders entered the single track, I was second in a group of four about 30 feet behind the lead group. I quickly found my goal of keeping the leader in sight withering away. Riders started to spread out rather quickly (at least the top 20 or so) and I set into a good fast pace, with very civilized passing amongst a few riders, either loosing or gaining a position every so often. I was feeling really good. Not having a computer on my bike, I don't know exact mileages of events, but somewhere around 11 miles in I felt something bumping the back of my leg. The rider behind me said, "your seat bag is hanging down." Knowing I would never finish with it like that, I unhappily stopped to fix it. Apparently the strap had ripped, it wasn't just the Velcro that had come undone. After the first fix-it attempt, it fell again, now rubbing on my wheel. I took it off and tried to stuff the bag into my jersey pocket. It fell out, I picked it up and stuffed it in once more, I made it to the next gravel road section, where it fell again. Already having lost about 2 minutes and 6 positions I was not stopping for it. I took off in a sprint, attempting to catch where I had been, which didn't work so well. I burned myself out quick, so I settled back into the same pace, just a few positions back now. I saw the "beer" stand at a bit past the halfway point. I had another full water bottle, no need to stop. Less than a mile after the refill station, my bottle decided to jump the cage and make a break for the trail. No more water. 10+ grueling miles left.
Continuing to an further uneventful finish, I was exhausted and dehydrated, I couldn't control my arms, from a rigid fork on washboard single track, yet I was stoked when I saw 1:46:XX coming across the finish. I knew I didn't place well, but I rode as hard as I physically could have. Results show I came in 18th overall, about 9.5 minutes behind the leader. I am content with my finish and had a good time at the race. Thanks to Revolution Bicycles for the support. HUGE thanks to my parents, family and friends for putting up with me being all crazy for the few days before the race.
Now that the race is over, I can clear my head and focus on my tour, less than two weeks away!!
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Suck it up and ride.
I'm pretty sure that anyone who has ever planned a life changing adventure could relate to the turning point when it hits you, "Shit just got real." You know when excitement turns to anxiety, when you lay in bed, try to go to sleep, but a bazillion scenarios go through your head, while you stare blankly into the dark. I am confident I can and will complete this trip, but there are still so many "what ifs."
With just about a month until I leave, on a bicycle, from the easternmost point of the country to ride to the westernmost part of the country. I am prepared for the struggle, I am embracing the fear of the unknown. In the pendulum of life, I know I will experience the full swing, from the extreme high of accomplishment and freedom, to the utmost lows of loneliness*, boredom*, and pain.
*specifically directed at some of the mid west states with days on end with next to no human interaction.
Aside from equipment and conditioning, I don't really know how else to prepare, which adds to both the excitement and anxiety side of things. Not long before I realized this trip was going to be a reality, I signed up for a big mountain bike race at the end of April. My original plan for this year in biking was, ride a lot, and focus on racing. Now that the tour has materialized, I am finding it hard to focus on setting tire to trail for the purpose of "training." While I still enjoy racing and the competitive side of biking, I just feel like I've found the deeper meaning in riding. I ride for myself, for the love of the sport, for the love of the freedom of flying through the woods, or down a road on two wheels powered completely by my own body, and gravity. I will be racing SSAP (Single speed-a-palooza) at the the end of the month, and will still race with every last drop of enthusiasm and effort I can find on that day, but I wont be packing my schedule with a race every weekend before that.
A couple thanks:
Revolution Bicycles Great shop, great people, and the right attitude to bicycling in general. Thanks for the support!
Fats In The Cats Mountain Bike Club I've been bumming along group rides, and sneeking around the forums, but I'm not actually a member, like I should be. (I promise to join if I return to NY after the trip.) Thanks for all the hard work on both community and trails.
Renegades MTB Club Another club I'm not a direct member of. Again thanks for all you do for the world of MTB.
With just about a month until I leave, on a bicycle, from the easternmost point of the country to ride to the westernmost part of the country. I am prepared for the struggle, I am embracing the fear of the unknown. In the pendulum of life, I know I will experience the full swing, from the extreme high of accomplishment and freedom, to the utmost lows of loneliness*, boredom*, and pain.
*specifically directed at some of the mid west states with days on end with next to no human interaction.
Aside from equipment and conditioning, I don't really know how else to prepare, which adds to both the excitement and anxiety side of things. Not long before I realized this trip was going to be a reality, I signed up for a big mountain bike race at the end of April. My original plan for this year in biking was, ride a lot, and focus on racing. Now that the tour has materialized, I am finding it hard to focus on setting tire to trail for the purpose of "training." While I still enjoy racing and the competitive side of biking, I just feel like I've found the deeper meaning in riding. I ride for myself, for the love of the sport, for the love of the freedom of flying through the woods, or down a road on two wheels powered completely by my own body, and gravity. I will be racing SSAP (Single speed-a-palooza) at the the end of the month, and will still race with every last drop of enthusiasm and effort I can find on that day, but I wont be packing my schedule with a race every weekend before that.
A couple thanks:
Revolution Bicycles Great shop, great people, and the right attitude to bicycling in general. Thanks for the support!
Fats In The Cats Mountain Bike Club I've been bumming along group rides, and sneeking around the forums, but I'm not actually a member, like I should be. (I promise to join if I return to NY after the trip.) Thanks for all the hard work on both community and trails.
Renegades MTB Club Another club I'm not a direct member of. Again thanks for all you do for the world of MTB.
Friday, March 29, 2013
It all starts somewhere.
This is my first blog post ever. Although it's always been something I've considered doing, I figure now is a good time to start. Why now? Well, I don't feel it is necessary to write about my day to day life, but I would like to keep some sort of public journal for my upcoming adventure of a life time.
Beginning some time in early May (exact date is weather pending), I will be riding a bicycle from West Quoddy Head, Maine 44°48′55.4″N 66°56′59.2″W ~easternmost point on the U.S. mainland to Cape Alava, Washington (48°9′51″N 124°43′59″W) ~westernmost point on the U.S. (contiguous) mainland. I will not be using a support vehicle, and as of this point, I will be traveling solo. Generalized route is all of the northern most states, with the exception of Michigan. Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois,Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, Washington, and once I've reached the Pacific in Washington, I will ride down to Portland, Oregon. I do not have the exact route mapped, but I am roughly estimating about a 4000 mile ride and a rough time estimate of 7 or 8 weeks.
While I am not a "road biker" per say, I am not considering this a road bike ride. At heart, I am an adventure cyclist. I do not care what kind of bike I am on, if I have the opportunity to go fast and explore simultaneously, I am a happy person. I do enjoy racing mountain bikes, I have never raced roadies. This trip is in no way a race. There are uber endurance races, both mountain bike, and road bike, that one day I would considering competing in, just not now. In fact, the more fun I am having, the longer this journey will take, primarily due to off-route exploration.
I will have more updates, insight, and details to come as preparation continues.
Beginning some time in early May (exact date is weather pending), I will be riding a bicycle from West Quoddy Head, Maine 44°48′55.4″N 66°56′59.2″W ~easternmost point on the U.S. mainland to Cape Alava, Washington (48°9′51″N 124°43′59″W) ~westernmost point on the U.S. (contiguous) mainland. I will not be using a support vehicle, and as of this point, I will be traveling solo. Generalized route is all of the northern most states, with the exception of Michigan. Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois,Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, Washington, and once I've reached the Pacific in Washington, I will ride down to Portland, Oregon. I do not have the exact route mapped, but I am roughly estimating about a 4000 mile ride and a rough time estimate of 7 or 8 weeks.
While I am not a "road biker" per say, I am not considering this a road bike ride. At heart, I am an adventure cyclist. I do not care what kind of bike I am on, if I have the opportunity to go fast and explore simultaneously, I am a happy person. I do enjoy racing mountain bikes, I have never raced roadies. This trip is in no way a race. There are uber endurance races, both mountain bike, and road bike, that one day I would considering competing in, just not now. In fact, the more fun I am having, the longer this journey will take, primarily due to off-route exploration.
I will have more updates, insight, and details to come as preparation continues.
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| Assembled and almost ready to roll. |
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| This is how I took it out of the box. KSP |
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