tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51027029482754799222024-03-05T11:37:29.882-08:00AXCAaron Cross Country.
<p>Follow along as I bicycle across the US. I'll post thoughts, experiences, photos and random silliness as I pedal 4300 miles from Virginia to Oregon.</p>
Info on the ride is here: http://4300miles.blogspot.com/2014/04/faq.html
First riding post starts here: http://4300miles.blogspot.com/2014/05/adventure-awaits.htmlAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-13562895415760279022014-08-04T14:21:00.000-07:002014-08-04T14:21:39.280-07:00Journey's End<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On August 2nd, 2014, I dipped the front wheel of my bicycle in the Pacific Ocean. After starting off by dipping my rear wheel in the Atlantic 92 days prior, and riding my bike 4300 miles (and then some) across these fine United States.<br />
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I have seen the country at 10 miles an hour, I have met people and seen sights that were greater than I ever expected. This experience cannot be summed up in writing, but at some point I will try. For now, I'll just wanted to let everyone know that I have completed my ride, my goal, my journey.<br />
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Reaching the Pacific was the culmination of this epic journey; I was overcome with a hundred emotions, and sheer elation at the accomplishment I had been working towards not only for 3 months of pedaling, and 6 months of planning before that, but of years of anticipation. All coming to a close on the sands of the Oregon coast.<br />
I knew the end was coming, but how can you really be prepared for the enormity of that moment?<br />
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This post is only a wrap up post to let you all know I reached the end, and to share the moment and the pictures with you. As I've been doing on this blog - telling stories - at some point after I've had time to reflect on the trip I will write the story of what this trip meant, how I feel having accomplished the goal and reached the end. For now I will just be getting used to not riding every day, and am excited to go back to my life, my friends, and my career back in Philadelphia.<br />
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Once again, thank you so much for following along and for joining me on this Grand Adventure. <br />
~ Not The End ~<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great feats of strength!</td></tr>
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Pictures of the Oregon coastline I rode along on the final day, on the way to Florence, OR<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-56646311013212853702014-08-02T09:41:00.001-07:002014-08-02T09:41:31.496-07:00Thank you<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">On the penultimate night of the ride, I want to say thank you. Thank you for coming along on this ride with me, and sharing your thoughts and comments as I shared mine. </span></div><div><br></div><div>It was a long road here, literally, of course, and figuratively as well. </div><div><br></div><div>Many years ago, my friend Davey rode his bicycle across the US. He blogged about the trip along the way, and I remember following him excitedly as he did. This was back in the days when laptops were big and heavy, and wifi was not all that common. But still he blogged and shared his adventure. I recall him eating ice-cream at every opportunity, and even one day when he got multiple flat tires because of a bad wheel rim. </div><div>His trip planted the seed of inspiration in my head. It let me know that this was a thing that existed, and was possible. And for whatever reason, this adventure was something that stuck in my head, that I came back to time and again. Imagining what it would be like to be on the road, pedaling my own way from ocean to ocean. And when I tossed the idea down into the depths of my mind, it came back 'that seems kinda fun.' Where 99% of the people would say (and have said) 'That's crazy!' Something about the idea resonated with me. </div><div><br></div><div>Thank you Davey for the inspiration. </div><div><br></div><div>Several years ago, I randomly decided I wanted to do a Triathlon. Sure, why not? I can swim, I can bike, I can learn to run a little. I'll give it a try! At the time all I had was a mediocre 10 year old mountain bike. But I figured I didn't need to win the Tri, I just needed to finish. When I told Tracie about this aspiration, she surprised me and bought me a very nice road bike for my birthday. That was what it took to turn me on to cycling in earnest. I started riding with the Bike Club of Philly and really enjoyed it. After completing one Tri, I kept on biking, and kept on doing more triathlons. I likely would have been 'one and done' if I hadn't gotten so interested in bicycling, thanks to having really good equipment that allowed me to enjoy it to the fullest, and someone who gave me not only a physical gift but a motivational one as well. </div><div><br></div><div>Thank you Tracie for giving me the gift that put me on a new path. </div><div><br></div><div>In the late summer/early fall of 2013 I was talking to my friend Michele about triathlon. I had just completed my first Half Ironman race (see, I did keep going!) and all my friends assumed that due to my pattern of race escalation, the next logical thing for me to do would be a full Ironman Tri. But the idea of that never resonated with me the same way the bike trip did. When talking with Michele, she asked me 'if not an IM, then what do you want to do?' I told her about my pie-in-the-sky idea of the cross-country ride. And she asked me 'well, why can't you do it?' And I thought about that... and all the excuses and reasons I had in the past were no longer the insurmountable barriers they used to be. But the barriers had been there for so long that it had just become a state of being. It took Michele asking me a very simple question 'why not?' to get me to reevaluate the possibility. And with that, the path was set. </div><div><br></div><div>Thank you Michele for helping me see the possibility. </div><div><br></div><div>I'd also like to thank my parents for being so supportive of me in this trip. Both literally, helping me with logistical support, and figuratively - just being there for me, believing in me, and being so proud of me at every step of the way. Thank you as well to my brother for his support and telling me how proud he is of his big brother.</div><div><br></div><div>A very big thank you to the group leader David who saw us through all details and trials, and got us safely and comfortably from coast to coast. Thank you as well to all the fellow riders on this tour; you've given me friendship, advice, comfort, humor, knowledge, and put up with my quirks and occational bad mood. You have become true friends, thank you. </div><div><br></div><div>After that, there are so many people to thank for everything, that I don't want to name names for fear of accidentally leaving anyone out. </div><div>Tremendous thanks to my friends who helped take care of everything in my 'real life' while I was out on the road living my dream. I can't say 'thank you' enough, but I'll keep trying. </div><div><br></div><div>Thank you to my friends who came out to my bon voyage party and gave me such a warm and amazing send off. It is great to have such good friends who are so excited for me doing this trip to take the time and effort to come out and wish me good luck. </div><div><br></div><div>Thank you to ALL my friends who have been so supportive and enormously enthusiastic about this trip. There are facebook friends that I haven't exchanged 3 words with in years, who are suddenly hanging on every update and even telling their friends about my adventure. And those who have always been close friends who are now closer for having shared this experience with me.</div><div>It is so great that this reaches so many people, and speaks so deeply to their sense of adventure. Many people have said 'thank you' to me for taking them along with me on this trip vicariously through my updates and pictures. To that I say both 'you are welcome' and a return 'thank you' for taking me into your world and experiencing it with me. This was a lonely ride without my friends, but while I was taking you across the country with me, you were keeping me with you back home as well. </div><div><br></div><div>And finally, thank you to everyone who has been reading this blog and sharing in the experience through my words and my pictures. The people I know as well as all of you who have found this blog other ways; it has been a pleasure and privilege to invite you into my world to share this trip with you. I have enjoyed your feedback, comments, and questions along the way. It makes me extremely happy that you have enjoyed my colorful and occasionally dramatic prose, and that you come back to keep reading.</div><div><br></div><div>When I started off writing this blog, I knew I wasn't going to write every day. That's what I did the 'Daily G/B/U' updates for. I didn't want the pressure or obligation to write every day, but more than that, I wanted to tell stories when I felt I had stories to tell. </div><div>Thank you for sharing in those stories, and giving me an audience to share them with. I'll post at least once more after I dip my wheel in the Pacific, and maybe more still, if/when I have a story to tell.</div><div><br></div><div>So, until then, thank you with all my heart for following along and sharing in my adventure. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-38703508633812878902014-07-31T17:26:00.001-07:002014-07-31T17:26:50.970-07:00Anatomy of a Good Day<div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The title for this blog has been in my head for weeks, and I've been meaning to write this. (I also thought about writing it's inverse, the anatomy of a bad day.) But in both cases, I just never got around to it. Besides, the good days keep coming, and which one do I write about?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Finally, the day was SO good, I just had to write about it, not just to share it, but to make sure I wrote it down to remember it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The day was Wednesday, July 30. Riding from Sisters, OR to McKenzie Bridge, OR. Crossing McKenzie Pass along the way. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The evolution of the really good day actually starts several days back with a handful of bad days. That's actually an overstatement, the days weren't bad, they were just very difficult and compounded on one another over several days. In the span of 3 days, we crossed 5 mountain passes, culminating with a nearly 90 mile day (including climbing a pass that day.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then we had a couple of less difficult days, which included a 40 mile ride from Prineville to Sisters that was so easy I was done before noon, which was a first for this trip. Then, having practically a whole day in Sisters was a treat as the town was very cute and nice to walk around in and kill an afternoon. Heck, the bike shop even had a tap with 6 beers and a guy who would just as soon tune your bike as pour you a pint! With almost a whole day to spend in a nice town, it practically felt like a rest day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That leads me to the good day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Things started off like pretty much any other day; wake up, break down camp, eat a little something, and get on the road. I knew there were no services the whole way so I stopped at a convenience store on the way out of town to pick up a gatorade and extra water. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The ride to the top of the pass was 17 miles uphill. On the road, the climb started pretty much right away. It was very gradual at first, only 2-3% grade, and along a nice shaded road with a view of the mountains in the distance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One unique thing about the day was that there was another bicycle group also doing the pass. An Oregon group based near Portland that was doing a 10 day, 500 mile loop of the state. This is an annual event, and draws a big crowd - there were about 45 riders in this group! Only a few miles into my ride I ran into the first couple and chatted with them a bit. We played leap-frog for a while when we each stopped for a little something and would pass each other. I chatted with them several times up the mountain. There were many other people I talked to on the way up and had good conversations with all of them. I'd ask them about their tour, and they'd ask me about mine. It was interesting, enjoyable, and really helped pass the time. I even encountered a nice guy who has been reading my blog! (Shout out to the nice guy on the funky recumbent! And btw, 'AXC' stands for 'Aaron Cross Country.') He said he found my blog linked from Adventure Cycling Associations e-mail newsletter. I said I knew they linked to the blog, I just didn't think anyone actually read it! ;-)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Pretty quickly, the hill went from the gradual grade to a more substantial climb of 5-7%. This isn't steep, but it's steep enough to have to get in a low gear, and gets me breathing a little harder. Even so, one of the little things I enjoyed about the climb was passing other riders from this group going up the hill, on my fully loaded bike while most of them were riding bare-bones! Hey, I've been working out!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One guy even commented on the size of my legs and that I looked like I was clearly in good shape. 88 days on the road will do that to you!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">About halfway up the mountain there was a lookout spot where I pulled over to take in the view, snap a few pictures and have a snack. I downed my gatorade and felt pretty good so far. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The overlook was the start of the McKenzie Pass lava fields. The top of the mountain is covered with lava rock from eons-old lava flows. It is a surreal landscape that looks a little like the surface of the moon. It is also something brand new that I haven't seen before on this ride, and was thoroughly interesting. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65u1IFw58WguoNJtiOJY_hlROajEP5Hjd10KUIpnTedoD7ACoD2s1B30KBxWWzTUN3Rdaru4QCkv59u7jUs-y7B0g7VaV6GWMq5YDSONOy4bdU6MjEY9muee14uEnRUZYGbpl0J9JnGaj/s1600/IMAGE_699.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65u1IFw58WguoNJtiOJY_hlROajEP5Hjd10KUIpnTedoD7ACoD2s1B30KBxWWzTUN3Rdaru4QCkv59u7jUs-y7B0g7VaV6GWMq5YDSONOy4bdU6MjEY9muee14uEnRUZYGbpl0J9JnGaj/s1600/IMAGE_699.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Back on the bike, I caught up with some of the other riders from my own group, chatted for a bit, and then we all continued on up the hill at our own pace. I stopped here and there to take pictures, and was enjoying not only the company of the other riders, but just the fact of not riding up this hill by myself. A side benefit of so many bikes being out that day was that drivers coming up the mountain were encountering riders the whole way, and were thus more cautious about their speed and coming around turns on the narrow roads. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A little over 2 hours into the ride, I turned a corner and saw the 'Observatory.' One of the other riders had told me this was at the top, but it felt like there was no way I should be at the summit yet. However, sure enough there was the sign; "Summit McKenzie Pass Elev. 5325."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Hell, that was practically easy! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At the top I saw most of my own gang, as well as throngs of other people in brightly colored spandex. For once, I didn't stand out! I went up to the top of the observatory and met up with others from my group. We admired the view, and talked about the climb up; the general consensus was that this was surprisingly not hard, and much quicker than we were expecting. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We talked to the other riders, swapped stories and just enjoyed the view and the fact that we crested the mountain much sooner than expected. Meaning we had the rest of the day to go down the other side and get to camp, so we could take plenty of time to relax. It was very fun having most of the group meet up at the top and chill. Some days we go the entire ride without seeing each other, so this was a rare mid-day hang out</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had my lunch, took a lot of pictures, and also talked with other riders. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_HbyrQDBoYuw9c1zc1aMbe5eH7otcQtkSZVTDJUiGtLjA4rB2aK6a84_UGbh_4zN0aycsYACvxgmTP-NbchlDCFHZw7DkH97OCPnGBUvmk84Xkijq6EtqEH5zPbMAqNATTtmAIiW1Dkv/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_HbyrQDBoYuw9c1zc1aMbe5eH7otcQtkSZVTDJUiGtLjA4rB2aK6a84_UGbh_4zN0aycsYACvxgmTP-NbchlDCFHZw7DkH97OCPnGBUvmk84Xkijq6EtqEH5zPbMAqNATTtmAIiW1Dkv/s1600/image.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then it was time to get back on the bike and head downhill. Always my favorite part of any climb!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There was advanced notice that the downhill was very winding and twisty, and somewhat steep at points, so be careful. I started off rolling down, but there was a false downhill, as just a half mile in I had to climb again! But after just a mile or two of that, the real downhill began. It was steep at first, and certainly very twisty. I describe this as a 'technical' downhill, meaning there is technical skill needed to do it. The downhill wasn't just 'point the bike down and let gravity do the work.' There is skill and experience for knowing how to brake going into turns, how take turns at high speed and not drift over into other lanes, and apply brakes properly to slow down enough when you need it without panic-braking. The hill wasn't so steep that I was bombing down at crazy speeds, it was just enough to be exciting without being dangerous. The technical aspect kept it interesting, and in all it was just fun. Then, as I became comfortable with the downhill, I was able to start looking up and around at my surroundings. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Coming up the mountain, we were in a forest that was healthy and pretty. But on the backside of the mountain just a few miles down, the lava flows gave way to a forest that was thick and rich and deep green. The trees were huge and healthy and centuries old. There was dense underbrush, a little humidity, and the smell of the forest in the air. It was lush. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And the downhill just kept going and going, through the most gorgeous forest I've seen on this trip. The bright blue sky peeked through the heavy canopy here and there, casting starkly contrasting shadows on the road. I wound down the twisty hills, thinking this felt like it was out of a luxury car commercial or a movie. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And still the downhill just kept going. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was lost in thought, pulling on the brakes and navigating the turns by instinct while my mind wandered - taking in the deep greens and the magnificence of the trees around me. I barely pedaled, didn't have to. Occasionally other bikes would fly by me, I paid them no mind. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I knew as I was going through this spectacular forest that it was something special. For a bit I rode with my head turned to the sky and watched the tips of the trees go by. I tried to take in all the details; trees a dozen feet wide and a hundred feet tall, the dense underbrush that looked almost like a tropical rainforest, the smell that permeated the air, and the cool breeze. At one point the trees opened up into a clearing and the hot sun beat down on my back and felt wonderful, then I was back in the canopy and the cool air was rushing by again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Time seemed to go away for a while, and I was just experiencing the world around me while gravity did the work. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Finally, the downhill ride came to an end at a 'T' intersection in the road. I looked at the sign that pointed back the way I came and it said 'McKenzie Pass 22 miles.' I had just gone 22 miles downhill. For almost a hour and a quarter I had barely pedaled. It was beyond description. There have been some magnificent downhills on this trip: Nine miles in Wyoming past of some of the most stunning mountain views of the trip. An epic eight mile bomb down a highway in Idaho that was more thrilling than any roller-coaster. A scenic 10 mile decent into Breckenridge from Hoosier Pass, and many more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But this ride down McKenzie pass was my favorite downhill of the trip. It wasn't the fastest, and might not have even been the most scenic, but it was fast without being worrisome, endlessly beautiful, and relaxing in a way that was just plain enjoyable. It is the first time I thought that I would be willing climb a hill over again, just to experience that downhill again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Still, the day wasn't over, and I had another 5 or 6 miles to camp. A few miles down the road I stopped by a river and sat and ate an orange while listening to the water rush by. I was hungry, and the orange tasted like ambrosia. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A little futher down I ran into the whole gang stopped at a general store. I stopped as well and had a nice root beer. It was not ambrosia, but a cold drink was still delicious. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Camp ended up being less than a mile from this store, and this wonderful day's ride was done by 1pm. To cap off such a nice ride, the campsite was beautiful, setting up tent among enormous old trees and next to that rushing river. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This was a day for the books. One of the last days of the trip. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At the top of the pass, looking out over the lava flows at the Three Sisters glaciers, another rider asked me "have you seen anything this beautiful?" And I felt bad thinking "yeah, kinda." It felt a little like 'been there, done that.' I just wasn't as impressed as she was, and I felt like maybe a little bit of the wonder had faded, or was jaded. But that downhill showed me there are still wonders, enjoyment, and surprises over every pass. I smiled so much that day, my face hurt at the end of the day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There have been many good days on this trip, more than I can count or categorize. This was not the 'best', but rather, it was yet another really good day. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-86636158574167063012014-07-27T21:23:00.000-07:002014-07-28T06:09:32.679-07:00Days go by<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyJXXR4xmOUBsC7PV-LWr5190gIc0HiOJwii1-3avfG8FG88Db7q4XDXYbkF_HbSXocoDboyeULY1TYD77S1wiJS9UOguMq3L67RW7w-qmnDrHtliejrrAnTGGrsKJv0sPgHVUiaPnTNU/s640/blogger-image--1124687543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyJXXR4xmOUBsC7PV-LWr5190gIc0HiOJwii1-3avfG8FG88Db7q4XDXYbkF_HbSXocoDboyeULY1TYD77S1wiJS9UOguMq3L67RW7w-qmnDrHtliejrrAnTGGrsKJv0sPgHVUiaPnTNU/s640/blogger-image--1124687543.jpg"></a></div>There is only one week left of this bike trip. Twelve weeks behind me, and the coast is in sight. Fellow rider Michael says: Close enough to get exited, but too far away to celebrate. </div><div>I did a two week touchpoint at the start of the trip and am looking at it now with just one remaining. </div><div><br></div><div>At the original two week marker, the trip felt so much different. I had been riding in Virginia for the whole time and it felt like we'd never get out of that state. Two weeks felt like an eternity. At that time that was the most physical activity I'd ever done in that time span. The trip was all ahead of me and I had but the briefest taste. </div><div><br></div><div>Now, with 4000 miles under my wheels, 9 states, and 12 weeks, I'm trying to put into words what I feel. I know I won't be able to fully digest this whole thing until long after I'm done and I can look back on it. But right now, with the end looming large, here are my thoughts. </div><div><br></div><div>Twelve weeks has never felt longer in my life. It is like time has decompressed and this trip is the only thing I've ever known. I've spent my whole life on the road. There was another life, another time, when I was an IT guy, a triathlete, I had a house and bills and a TV. </div><div>From the outside I know this was only 3 months and that goes by in the blink of an eye. What did you do this summer? Did you go on any trips? Did you finish any big projects at work or around the house? Did the days and weeks blend together until you wondered how June and July whirled past in a flash? </div><div><br></div><div>For me the days go buy at a 10 mph. I see every wildflower on the side of the road, every abandoned car, every mountain in the distance. I have been surprise that even after all this time I am still excited to be on this trip. I get on my bike and most days I think "wow, I'm really doing this!" Every day has its own beauty and challenges, each one standing as it's own entity, it's own eternity. Every mile is earned, with sweat and strength. The miles go by slowly, yet accumulate quickly. In the distance I see my future, a mountain range as a hazy silhouette on the horizon, impossibly far away. I roll inevitably, inexorably, towards them, and eventually they melt away in my rear view mirror. </div><div><br></div><div>Eventually the days and cities blend together, forming a larger tapestry of being on the road. </div><div><br></div><div>I've had wonderful experiences that I never would have expected: Going to a rodeo in Wyoming, hot spring baths in Colorado, having a banquet thrown for us in Kansas, bombing down a mountainside in Idaho. And more than I can recount. </div><div>There have been hard days too. Very few, but days where I just didn't want to ride, days where I wanted the trip to be done with already. This is where the mental fortitude is just as important as the physical strength. </div><div><br></div><div>And it is amazing to me to see the physical strength build as I ride. Hills that would have knocked me out in Kentucky and Missouri are now barely a thought. I ride up inclines twice as long, and smile at the top. Sure, I get my heartrate up and my legs burn a little, but I'm demonstrably stronger now than when I started. 60 mile days that would have felt long early on are now just 'tuesday'. </div><div><br></div><div>The days are starting to blend together more as well. Weeks used to feel like months, as time slowed down. Now the end seems to be approaching like a freight train. And yet, every day is still it's own eternity, right up until the end. </div><div><br></div><div>Right now, I'm both looking back at the trip and looking forward. Looking back at where I've been, deconstructing this lifetime in the saddle; where I've been and how far I've come. Not just in the miles, but physically, emotionally, personally. </div><div><br></div><div>I think I won't be able to fully process and understand this trip until well after I'm done. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">But for now, in this life I am a cyclist, at least for one more week. </span></div><div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-67122830256828517202014-07-20T20:09:00.000-07:002014-07-20T20:09:57.899-07:00PedalPedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal eat pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal eat pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal poop pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal eat pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pee pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pee pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal eat pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pee pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pee pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pee pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal pedal eat, sleep. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-92134564556491553502014-07-12T20:12:00.001-07:002014-07-14T05:24:41.284-07:00Wherever I may roam<div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This trip has brought me a lot of experience, and experiences. When I signed up for this, it was with the understanding that it was "self supported," meaning we carried all our own gear, in particular our tent and sleeping bag. With the expectation that we'd be camping most nights. Upon further research, I learned that in addition to camping, we would be staying at a variety of other places and accommodations as well. This is a rundown of the places I've stayed, and the experiences therein. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This was how I expected we'd spend most nights, and that has been the case. Maybe 60-70% of the time we've been 'tenting', our term for camping, since calling it "camping" might be a bit of a stretch. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In the past, my experience camping (at established camp grounds) has been semi-remote but not really 'roughing it.'</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On this trip, the majority of our camping has been at RV parks, where they have a little grass sections (sizes vary from postage-stamp size to 'at least we're not on top of each other') set aside for tents. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If you've ever been to a KOA campground or Good Sam, that's what a lot of these have been. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">They all have showers and restroom facilities, and running water available somewhere. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">These are the Holiday Inn of camping. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In one case, an RV site in the sticks was much smaller, and the RV's looked like they'd been there for a long time. Basically, we camped at a trailer park. Still, there was a nice pavilion, a shower and a bathroom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One RV park we were supposed to camp at for two nights was in Damascus (over a rest day). But instead of setting up camp, the manager let us sleep in the large and unused restaurant hall in the big central building. The restaurant had been closed for years, and was pretty much abandoned. It was storming on and off those two days, and it was a great offer to have a roof. I opted not to sleep in the communal room, and instead set up my tent on the patio, still under cover. I liked this place a lot because it was so eccentric. Once upon a time, the room was very fancy, and it still had high elegant wood ceilings and chandeliers, and a large and elegant fireplace. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Other camping accommodations have been more basic. We camped in a lot in city parks. This is just about what it sounds like (we always had permission from the city.) In most cases the park was near the city pool, we would shower at the pool facility, and the city would leave the bathrooms unlocked for us all night. Some of these were nicer than others, but for the most part I liked these a lot. It felt more like camping than the RV parks, and was less hectic. In some cases, these places didn't have any shower facilities, and we had to go elsewhere to wash up. Once we had to go a block over to the county fairground, and once we had to rent a hotel room to use the shower. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One campsite at a city park was under the bight lights of the baseball field. The showers were part of the park pool, which hadn't yet opened for the season, so someone had to come and unlock it for us for one hour. Again, there was no hot water (and it had been a really cold day), but a shower is not to be missed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Another night we camped in another community park, but this time the pool was open and we arrived early. It was a particularly hot day and we all partook of the pool for several hours. There were diving boards, some lounge chairs on the pool deck, and a concession stand selling ice cream. It was like a summer day from my childhood. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In addition to that fun afternoon, the campground was nice and quiet that night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There was another local park next to a pool, but it rained all day that day and the last thing we wanted to do was get wet again. We did partake of the showers though, and they were also freezing. That night there was a spectacular sunset. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At one public park in Colorado, we showered across the street at the community pool facility. This was a nice facility with lots of hot water. In addition to that, I borrowed swim goggles from a lifeguard and swam laps for 20 minutes. That was a nice way to decompress after a long day, and I enjoyed stretching out muscles I hadn't used in a long time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The campground that night was nice, but totally overrun by mosquitos. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At a very nice, but very remote campground outside of Pueblo, CO, we overlooked Pueblo Lake, and saw the most beautiful sunset of the trip.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After one of the longest, hottest and most difficult rides of the trip, we spent two nights at a campground in Eminence, Mo. (thanks to a rest day.) This was on a small river, and we walked across the river (in knee deep water) to get to the bar/restaurant on the other side. The entrance to this campground was down a steep, pitted dirt road that nobody wanted to ride extra laps on in order to go into town. On the second night, there were severe thunderstorms with nearly hurricane force winds, lighting so frequent it looked like disco strobe lights, and the thunder rolled and echoed around the mountains with an eerie echo. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We camped in several severe storms, and one particularly nasty wind storm in Kansas. In all of these, my tent has held up tremendously, and I've been so thrilled with the quality and durability. In one instance, we found my tent literally submerged in 3 inches of water. After being moved, nothing in the tent was wet or even damp. The tent held up like a champ. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's a Nemo brand, 'Espri 2 person' tent. I highly recommend Nemo, as everyone I've encountered with this brand has nothing but good things to say. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(organized tent inside pic)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Not quite camping</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There were a few places we had arranged that were not outside, but not really much more than a roof over our heads. These were often public or semi-public buildings opened to cyclists to spend the night. In one case it was the community center in a small, depressed town overrun by tumbleweeds. There, we celebrated 2000 miles with a nice sit down dinner that we prepared. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In another case it was a nice building, but still just the basics; a bathroom, a kitchen and lots of floor space. In these cases we just claim our spot somewhere on the floor, blow up our sleeping pad and throw the sleeping bag on top. I'm not sure if this was better than sleeping in a tent, and in some cases I would have rather tented. But often the places were cooler than it was outside, or offered protection from the elements. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There was a firehouse in a tiny town in Kentucky where it had been over 90 all day, we did an incredibly difficult 81 miles, and the place was wonderfully air conditioned. The shower had a tiny hot water tank, so everyone except the first person got an exceptionally cold shower, and still that was nice. The station itself was a good size, but between our group and a few other cyclists also crashing there, it was a bit crowded - with a cacophony of snoring all through the night. I set up my sleeping pad on the filthy kitchen floor and slept poorly. Even despite the heat, I think I would have slept better in my tent on the lawn outside. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One perk of this place was that there was a washer and dryer in the shower room, and we were all happy to get all caught up on our laundry. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cyclist Hostels</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Somewhere between 'hotel' and 'community center floor' we found another category of shelter called bicyclist hostels. I didn't know what to expect from these places, and certainly they varied in accommodations. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For one thing, a lot of the community center floors and random churches we stayed at were billed as cyclist hostels, but I'm separating those out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The first night in Missouri, there was a very nice hostel called "Al's Place" which was in an old jail in Farmington. This place had bunk-beds, nice showers, sofa and TV, and even laundry. It was by far the nicest non-hotel we stayed in on this trip. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Another hostel was literally inside a bike shop in Newton, Kansas. This little shop was trying to recreate itself as *the* cyclist destination on the TransAm bike route. It did a lot of things right, but also got a lot of them wrong. But I got a bed to sleep in, and had no complaints. Others found space on the floor. There was no shower, so we had to walk over to the local fire station to shower there. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Two other biker hostels were camping conditions. One was early in the trip, Hale Farm, we showered in his house and camped in his yard. A little farther down the line was 'Dave's Place' at a 'Historical Society' and was up the steepest hill ever, after a particularly long day. When I got there, exhausted and starving, Dave inundated me with questions the instant I arrived. We tented on a steep but terraced back yard. Dave made a spectacular breakfast for us the next morning. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Surprising to me, we stayed at a number of churches that opened their doors to us and let us spend the night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The first of these was on the very first night of the trip, and that really caught me off guard. This was the Willis Church in Glendale, VA. This was the first night, and I didn't know what to expect. Some volunteers at the church made us a great pasta dinner. They had a nice shower for us, and even towel service. This was not to be the norm, but it was a good way to start the trip. Ironically, I was really itching to sleep in my tent, but instead I set up my sleeping pad in the nursery room.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There have been several more churches along the way. Mostly Presbyterian and Methodist. Despite the vast quantity of Baptist churches through the south and midwest, only one of them has hosted us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One churches early on was a little run down, and the floor was filthy. There was no shower there, but there were kitchen facilities and nice bathrooms for us to use. We rented a room at a seedy hotel across the street and took turns using the shower there. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Anther church simply allowed us to camp on their back lawn. They had set up a camp shower, which was a hose attached to a shower head. There was a little shower room set up for this, so there was privacy, but the shower was freezing, and it was a cold day to begin with. I stood next to it and just splashed some water on me to wash the essentials. That night I slept very well, and woke up to hear coyotes howling in the distance. That morning I woke up to a terrific sunrise over the trees. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At a rather nice presbyterian church, I was able to sneak off and find a room to myself. This was a fancy room with leather chairs and a nice oak table. There was wifi and a great shower. It poured like the biblical flood overnight, and we were all grateful to have a roof over our heads. Although we still had to venture out into the rain the next morning. (That was the day we rode into Damascus, if you want to read that story, check out the post The Road to Damascus.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Another night we stayed at a similarly nice church that was again gracious enough to open their doors to us and allow us to throw down our sleeping bags anywhere we liked. And again I managed to get a private room. At this place, they installed a shower in the boiler room. It was cramped moving around in the room, and the shower stall was 3 feet up off the floor, but the shower itself was glorious, after a long and particularly hot day. It's amazing how much a simple shower can improve my mood.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In Kansas, a relative of one of our riders had organized her church group to do a BBQ picnic for us at the city park where we were staying. That day was one of the windiest days of the trip, and when we got to camp the wind was still howling at up to 45 mph! We couldn't set up our tents in the open park, and even our bicycles were blowing over. The church moved the picnic to inside their building, and after some phone calls they also opened up their doors to us and let us spend the night. This was one of the best meals we had, the company was terrific, and I slept like a log, once again in the kindergarden room. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The most recent (and possibly final) church we stayed at was by total dumb luck. We were supposed to stay in a community building (that none of us could actually find!) A friend of one of our riders had come out to ride with him that day, and had parked in a random church. We finished our ride, and he pulled a cooler of cold sodas out for us. As we were sitting in this church parking lot, a woman came out and talked to a few of us for a minute, then offered for us to stay there! They had nice showers, a big kitchen, and two big rec-rooms in the basement with lots of room for all of us. I threw my sleeping bag down on a long couch and slept very comfortably. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Hotels</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lastly, we have stayed in several hotels along the way. This is usually when there are no camping or other options available. We have a limited budget, so of course we can't hotel it too often. Besides, my tent is starting to feel like home, so I kind of like sleeping in it. Still, you can't knock a nice bed, and easy access to the bathroom at night! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Some of the hotels have been spectacular. One in particular in Breaks Interstate Park at the Virginia / Kentucky border was very nice, with a great bed and the best view I've ever had at a hotel. I would go back there for a vacation and stay at that hotel. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We stayed at a very nice hotel in the mountains in Wyoming at Togwatee Pass. That night I took a 1/2 mile hike up to a scenic overlook and braved swarms of mosquitos in order to photograph the sunset over the mountains. Nobody wanted to go with me because of the walk and the bugs. I think it was worth it, and resulted in one of my favorite pictures of the trip. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There have been some pretty low points too. We stayed at a roach motel in Kentucky where I definitely would have rather tented. And another time we stayed in 'cabins' at a horse camp in Eddyville, IL. These cabins were actually trailers, as in 'trailer park' trailers, and although there were beds, there were no sheets! I slept in my sleeping bag, on top of a slightly dirty mattress. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There was a place that called itself a 'bike hostel' in Ordway, Colorado, but it was really a hotel. The rooms were nice and the beds were comfortable. The proprietor served us dinner and it was a fantastic meat lasagna of a portion so large that nearly none of us could finish it!</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There was a hotel in Hot Sulphur Springs, CO where the rooms were labyrinthine, with rooms off of rooms. It was comfy though, and there wasn't much else. We also stayed at a very nice Bed and Breakfast in Breckenridge, where I shared a tiny room and bunk beds with my buddy John. He snores like a freight train, but is very genial when I wake him up to tell him to roll over. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And finally, there was a hotel in Jeffery City, Wyoming that didn't have enough rooms for all of us. So we rented one room to shower in, and camped in a gravel pit out front. When the sun went down and the wind died, a biblical plague of mosquitos came out. One of our riders said of the place; "I have stayed in some $###holes in my life, and I can tell you with some authority, this is indeed a $###hole."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He was not wrong. But, I had a shower and a place to lay my head. And after that, it's all part of the adventure I signed up for! From hotels with a spectacular view, to a $###hole in the middle of nowhere Wyoming, and everywhere else in-between, this has been an amazing and interesting adventure indeed! </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-40467446484994104802014-07-09T20:36:00.000-07:002014-07-09T20:36:25.875-07:00Carpe Diem<div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Three Thousand Miles! That is how far I've come (officially. Unofficially, I've done a few miles more!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Looking back, here's a little though on how I got here, and what this means to me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">'Carpe Diem.' This translates to "Seize the Day." On the surface this seems straight forward, but to me it encompasses several increasingly granular aspects of the idea. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">From the poem where the phrase originated, the complete line is [roughly] 'Seize the day, and do not leave it for the future.' </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For this trip it originally meant; finally do this thing! Grab the adventure, stop letting things get in the way, and go!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Prior to the trip, my boss asked me to talk to the team about the trip, and share a little of what I was doing. I talked about the details, explained the TransAm route, and about my bike, But I closed out my presentation saying this; "You create your own opportunity. If you wait for opportunity to present itself, there will always be something in your way. If you want to do something, make it happen - Create your own opportunity."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It doesn't have to be something as big as biking across the US, maybe you want to see an opera in the Sidney Opera House, maybe you want to climb Machu Picchu in Peru, or maybe you just want to learn to play guitar. For me, this means if there's something that's been an itch in the back of your brain, scratch it, find a way and make it happen. It might not be right now, and might not be for a while. But if you make it a priority and make a plan, you can make it happen. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Another more granular aspect of Carpe Diem that has come about in this trip is to take things one day at a time. I have not ridden 3000 miles (so far). You can't do that, I can't wrap my brain around the concept of biking that far. What I've done is ridden 55 or 65 miles a day, for as many days as it's taken me to get to this point. When I get on my bike in the morning, I have to go the 60 miles that day. That's all I have to worry about. I don't have to worry about the mountain range I'm crossing next week, or where I'm staying three days from now. All I have to do is get to the finish point that night. Then tomorrow, I'll do it again. And again. And eventually I hit 3000 miles! After that, I'll get to the west coast and dip my wheel in the ocean. But tomorrow, all I'm focused on is covering that distance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And there is more meaning for me still. The smallest grain, the tiniest aspect - the moment. Living in the moment. As I ride through vast open spaces, I try to remember to look up and take in all that is around me. In vast and endless fields in Kansas, that meant soaking in the image of wheat fields that stretch off to the horizon. In Kentucky there was also beautiful scenery, but I also looked around to see the houses, the people, the towns, and comprehend what I was seeing. It also means taking in what I'm doing in general, I have these moments where it occurs to me 'holy crap, I'm really biking across the country!' </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sure, I think about where I'm going, what I need to do, and other stuff that bobbles around in my head. But I also try to just experience what I'm doing right now, soak it in, and seize the moment. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don't know if this is an outlook that I've developed on this trip, or something I already had that I've cultivated. But I hope that when the trip ends and I go back to my hustle and bustle life, I can continue to seize the moment, the day, and the opportunity. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And with that, I'll leave you with some of my favorite pictures from the last 3000 miles. </span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-47927767933758571002014-07-03T14:51:00.001-07:002014-07-03T14:51:33.187-07:00Great Expectations<div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I set out on this trip, I had a few expectations, and many things I either didn't expect or didn't even realize. Here are some of the things that have defied (or met) expectation. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I didn't expect this trip to be this much fun. I knew it would be good, and enjoyable, and the experience of a lifetime, but I didn't think being on the bike for 6-8 hours a day for 60 days would be fun. But it has been.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I didn't expect this trip to start off being so hard! Yeah, that's a silly thing to say, I'm biking across the US, of course it's going to be hard! I knew that, but this defied expectation of 'hard.' And I didn't expect it to be so hard, so quickly! We crossed the Blue Ridge Mountains in the Appalachians in the first week. Then went through the rest of the Appalachians and then the Ozarks. I was looking ahead to the Rocky Mountains, and hadn't though much about the first two mountain ranges. The 'razorback' hills in Kentucky, and the massive ups and downs in VA were a huge challenge. The heat, traffic, humidity and other factors in VA and KY also contributed. Which leads me to...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who would have expected the Rocky Mountains to be easy!? Certainly not me, and certainly not after the difficulty of the previous mountain ranges. Plus, we climbed to the highest elevation of the trip crossing the Hoosier Pass into Breckenridge, and that wasn't a big deal to me, even with the challenge of the elevation. I think it was a combination of factors; The first and most obvious is that I'm a much stronger rider after doing this for 7 weeks! But also the weather was much better, and the climb was slow and steady, but not too steep.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of my biggest fears/worries for the trip was the comfort of my bike. In particular I expected the saddle to be killing me after a week! But instead, I've gone 60 days haven't had any saddle issues at all. Other people in the group have struggled with this since day one, and maybe half the group or more have even replaced their saddle during the trip. But mine was comfortable right out of the box and I haven't even used any saddle cream or anything. Sure, I'll be a little sore after sitting on the bike for 8 hours, but that's not a saddle issue, it's a 'sitting on my butt in the same spot for so long' issue. Give it a night off the bike, and I'm ready to go the next day!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another factor of that is just general comfort on the bike; I was totally expecting my neck, shoulders, wrists, hands and knees to hurt at some point. On my road bike, my neck and shoulders ache after just one or two rides! On this ride I haven't had any issues. The bike isn't perfect, and if I stay in one position for too long my hands will start to tingle. But when I get off the bike, my back doesn't hurt, my neck and arms are fine. This is one of the biggest surprises for me. Which also leads me to...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The last thing related to the bike and just riding day after day is that I haven't had any over-use injuries. Anyone who does a lot of physical activity and/or training can attest to the fact that after doing one thing over and over for so long, eventually something starts to hurt. I was expecting my knees to hurt, or have a 'hot spot' in my shoes where something rubs over time, or perhaps the muscles in my lower back would build from a small ache to a big one. Just, something, but nope! Sure, I have an ache here and there occationally, and my legs have been lightly sore for most of the trip. But there are no over-use injuries that have been bothering me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of the things I put a lot of thought into was the availability of electricity. I didn't expect to have readily available power. A lot of people I spoke to about the trip had the same assumption, and my 'solution' for lack of power was to buy and bring a solar charger. The reality was that we've had power pretty much every night. Sometimes we've had to plug out stuff in at weird places. At one campsite the only outlet was in the bathroom, so I plugged in and left my phone in the bathroom for an hour. It also turned out that the solar panel was crap. It charged a battery, and from the battery I could charge my phone. A full day's solar charge would re-charge my phone up to 60%! Just... worthless. I mailed the charger home and bought a 6000mAh USB back up battery that can recharge my phone 3 times on one charge. Between that, and the regular availability, I've been able to keep everything charged. Then on the rare days there is no power, the backup battery is more than enough. The added bonus is that the battery is smaller and lighter than the solar panel (and it was less $$), so it's a 'win' all around. That leads to my next thought on campgrounds...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The group camps most nights, and this was expected. I wasn't sure what to expect with regards to the types of campgrounds, but it still managed to defy expectations. When I go camping, it's usually at established tenting campgrounds in remote areas, or it's in the middle of the woods. A lot of places we've been staying are at RV parks, with a little plot of grass in the back for tents. There are big trucks and campers all around, and us. It feels less like 'camping' and more like just pitching tents in the middle of a mobile metropolis. There have been a few instances where we have camped in places that more closely approximated my idea of 'camping', but the RV's are still omnipresent. Which leads me to...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't think I expected my tent to feel like home, but it does. I look forward to nights where we camp because I get to set up my own personal space and sleep in my familiar surroundings. At first my sleeping bag and ground pad were uncomfortable and confining, but I've grown accustomed to it and can get a decent night's sleep. It's nice to occasionally sleep somewhere with a real bed, and an easily available bathroom in the middle of the night. But there have been stretches where we haven't camped for several days in a row, and I feel the itch to get back to tenting. Also related to places to lay my head down is another expectation...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The trip described something called 'biker hostels' which I didn't know what that meant but I know what a 'hostel' is, so I had an assumption. It turns out that many of the 'biker hostels' are buildings that let us throw down our sleeping bags on the floor. Sometimes, but not always, they have showers. Occasionally they've been little more than a roof and 4 walls, and occasionally a 'biker hostel' has been straight up luxury accommodations with beds, hot showers and towels, and even breakfast included! There's really no consistency, and it's actually been fun and interesting to see how different they can be. The hight of biker hostel was a place with bunk beds, sheets, and a washer/dryer. The low is probably sleeping on the dirty kitchen floor of a volunteer fire station in the middle of nowhere. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another surprise is that I didn't expect to have a shower every night (and most of my friends joked that they didn't expect that either!) I prepared for this eventuality by bringing 'paper shower', basically big wet-wipes which to wipe down. So far on this trip, though, I have had a shower every single night. Granted, some were better than others, and some were ice-cold, but I've never gone to bed covered in the sweat and grime of the day's ride. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One thing I thought I was prepared for were the little challenges associated with a trip like this. I knew riding every day would be tough, and I knew setting up and breaking down camp would be one more thing to do on top of everything else, but there have been a lot of other challenges. The wind in Kansas was expected, the wind in Wyoming making Kansas look like a light summer breeze was unexpected! The mosquito swarms of biblical proportions in Wyoming were unexpected. 98 degree heat in Virginia in early May was unexpected. Then flipping that around, I wasn't prepared for a really cold couple of nights in Virginia, only 3 weeks into the trip. (Although my friend Jo helped me out and sent me cold weather gear, so I was prepared for the cold nights in CO and WY!) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I said this in a prior blog post, but it's worth repeating, the hospitality I've experienced is more than I expected, and greater than I knew existed. I was prepared for this to be a fully 'self supported' tour, and we would take care of ourselves. And really, we have, but people have come along and done things for us both really big (hosted a dinner feast for us) and really small (someone shared their s'mores with me last night.) Most of this is without us asking for anything, people have just stepped up and offered. I think it is because people are just more kind and giving than I really realized, and also in some little way they enjoy being a part of this big adventure we're on. I could do a whole post on the people I've met and the hospitality I've encountered, and perhaps I will. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lastly, one of the greatest things I didn't expect was just how terrific the group of riders I'm with are. I think about how great the trip is thanks to the people I'm with, and how much different it could have been otherwise. They are supportive, friendly, fun, kind, and even wise and experienced. There's a fantastic mix of personalities, experience and knowledge in a huge range of areas. We are learning who to go to if we want to know anything. (We passed an oil refinery and someone asked 'how does that work?' So we asked Normand, and sure enough he knew and explained it to us!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The tour leader is fantastic, and the group is pretty self sufficient so that helps as well. Even after 60 days, we all get along pretty well. I hope I've made some friends for life, and am happy to still have another 30 days to continue to get to know everyone better and continue to learn from them as we go.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some of the things I think of regarding this post:</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-82996760682550636642014-06-26T15:49:00.001-07:002014-06-26T15:49:26.997-07:00Asterisk Day*<div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What is pride, what is accomplishment?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For two days in Colorado, I got to ride without luggage (aka: unloaded.) The spouse of one of the riders spent a few days with us and rented a pickup truck, and we had the opportunity to drop our gear in the truck and ride free. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was actually my idea/suggestion, although I still struggled with the decision of whether or not to take advantage of it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally, I decided 'why make this harder than it needs to be?'</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Seeing this early on in the day, someone asked me; "Do you feel like you're cheating?" And the easy answer is 'No.' </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That same night, we stayed in a hotel instead of camping, was that cheating? What about when we eat in a restaurant instead of cooking our meals?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But those are just comparative arguments, not really answers. The real answer is; Where are the rules written that I am cheating? Is this a race, a contest, or test? Who am I trying to impress and what am I trying to prove? Do I get extra points or unlock an accomplishment by riding with my gear when I don't have to? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The real truth is that there is only one 'rule': finish the ride. Dip my back wheel in the pacific and have ridden across the country. I'm doing this for fun, not bragging rights, and I answer to nobody but my own conscience. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But this is where the idea of the asterisk came from, tagging the mileage of the two days (52 miles* and 45* miles) as if they need a foot note explaining that I rode these days unloaded. This is tongue in cheek, as I don't think I need to justify or even qualify the decision. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And yet, I'm writing this down and spelling it out. Who am I trying to rationalize this to; the other riders, you, my readers, or myself? I think maybe nobody, it's just a thought exercise in order to understand my motivations better by writing taking the time to write them down. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Certainly I took the 'self supported' tour instead of the van supported or even fully supported tour because this meant something to me. I like the idea of carrying my gear, being self sufficient, camping and 'roughing it' as much as we have. But taking a two day break and riding unloaded, that doesn't take away from anything, in fact, it made more enjoyable for having the comparison. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ultimately, the object of this trip is to have fun and have the experience of it. Sure, at the end when I tell people about it I'll surely have a sense of pride in the accomplishment (is that bragging?), but I'm not doing it for that reason. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It helped too that this was two long days of climbing; nearly 3500' on the first day and about 4500' on the second. (And y'all know how much I love hills!) We reached the highest elevations of the whole trip on these days. So why not take advantage of a lighter load? I'm already pedaling up long hills with thin air!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The days ended up being spectacular. The climbs were mostly gentle uphills of 5 or 6% grade that we just dropped into a low gear and spun for an hour or more at a time. Not the hard and steep climbs of Kentucky, or the persistent ups and downs of Virginia. The views were fantastic, the weather was great, and just in general it was all around enjoyable. And it was made all the more-so because I wasn't dying going up the hills. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">'Asterisks day' number one was a beautiful day, with a fair bit of climbing. We had just come off a much needed rest day after riding for 9 days straight. Most of the group went rafting on the layover day, but I just wanted to take it easy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, feeling refreshed and a little excited at the prospect of riding unloaded for the first time in months, I was ready to tackle the day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another unique element of the day was that we had a 'sag wagon.' A car that was traveling with us and stopping along the way with food and water. This came about when a friend of one of our riders wanted to come out and ride with us for the two days from Royal Gorge up to Breckenridge. Sarah rode with us, while her son Logan drove the sag wagon. Some of their friends from back home had donated all sorts of food to stock up the car for us, and Logan stopped every 12 miles and waited for us to get there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was all the more fantastic because there was a warning note about the route that not only were there no services for the 50 miles we were riding, but that the high altitude and dry air necessitated lots of extra water. Instead of having to carry that, we had someone waiting for us with water, cold sodas, gatorade, and snacks!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The first 12 miles were very beautiful, and there was one really big climb. At the top of the climb, the car was waiting for us and it was like an oasis! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We all stopped and spent a long time just chilling, drinking gatorade, and there was a large box of fresh, delicious grapes. It's also fun when the whole group stops together and we can just hang out and relax. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Following that, we had a gradual downhill that was fun and not too steep so we could pedal pretty easily for a mile. Of course that didn't last, and we started our really big climb for the day. We went back up to 9300 feet, and climbed for at least an hour. The grade was only 5 or 6%, and unloaded it felt straight up easy. The only limiting factor was the thin air at elevation that had me breathing heavy and panting. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The climb was actually pretty fun, even though there were points where I had to work a bit. The view was great, with rolling hills and some exposed rock that hinted at the mountains to come. Off in the distance we could see the silhouette of the mountains, and a few snowy peaks closer by. After climbing for a while, we finally crested the first pass. There were a few of us riding together, though by the time we got to the top we were spread out a little bit. As each of us crested the hill, one by one we blurted out the same thing 'holy $#!7"! The mountains just came into view as we got to the top, and it was stunning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We sat at the top for a few minutes and just enjoyed the view. Then when we finally got back on the bikes and rolled, the sag wagon was just a few hundred yards down the hill. So we stopped again and took a bit of a break. The rest of the group caught up to us, and we sat down and ate our lunches. We all sat facing the mountain range, not talking a whole lot, it looked a little bit like we were all sitting there watching TV! Only, this was something that just couldn't be properly captured and conveyed by any camera. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We rolled into Hartsel, CO that night. I felt pretty fresh despite the climb and the 50 mile ride. There was a nice tailwind for the last 2 miles to the ranch we were staying at, which was a fun way to cap off an overall good day of riding. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The ranch we stayed at was just gorgeous, the rooms were very nice, the beds were comfy, and there was a large common room for us to sit and relax in. And to top it all off, we had a magnificent feast prepared by a few of our riders who took advantage of the full kitchen. It was an all around perfect day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Asterisks day number two; we started off with a great breakfast, and took our time leaving because it was a bit chilly in the morning (high 40's, low 50's). We were climbing for most of the morning and early afternoon. Even though it started off with a very gentle incline of maybe 2-3% grade. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The views off to the left were still breathtaking, and we just plodded along for the first 12 miles until we ran into Logan and the sag wagon again. And again, most of the riders grouped up at this point and we had a good snack. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">From there, the climbing got a bit steeper. We were heading to Hoosier Pass, the top of the continental divide and the highest point of our trip at 11,539 feet! There was a sign that said "4 Miles to Hoosier Pass", and I was feeling pretty good! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was a little out of breath from the elevation, but I felt strong and confident. At about 2 miles past the sign, I caught up to two other riders, and one of them was looking a little queasy, and at that point she actually pulled over to take a breather. She was having a hard time with the elevation, and we stopped with her for a while to catch her breath and feel better. From there, we rode for 10 minutes and took a 5 minute break, and did that all the way to the top. We all looked out for each other, and she was a total trooper. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally we reached the top, 11539 feet, and nearly 4500 feet of climbing just for that one day!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the top, John was shooting video on his Go-Pro (as he is prone to do) and filmed us all rolling in. Then he did little 30 second interviews (which I will attempt to attach). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Coming down from the pass, there was an awesome 4.5 mile downhill that started off steep and then leveled out into a nice fast descent. The fast bit was somewhat trecherous, as there were steep switchbacks that I had to slow down to be able to make the turns. Everyone else was talking about the nice views on the downhill, but all I saw was the pavement I was staring at intently! But once it leveled out a bit, I could put the bike in the fastest gear and pedal easy at about 25 mph and just fly all the way into Breckenridge!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then, to finish off two fantastic days, I have a couple friends from back home who moved out to this area several years ago. I got in touch with them before the trip and arranged to meet up while I was here. We had a great meal together and caught up a lot. It was just great to see them, and tremendously cool how I arrived here! I rode my bike to their house!! (Well, I will actually ride right by their house the next day!) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In all, the Asterisks Days were some of the best and most enjoyable of the trip, which ultimately had very little to do with riding unloaded, and everything to do with all the regular things that make this trip so great; beautiful scenery, enjoyable riding, great people, and tremendous kindness from unexpected places. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-7160236962539729112014-06-24T16:50:00.000-07:002014-06-24T16:51:23.293-07:00Cuz I'm Happy<div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I say a lot how this trip is so hard, but it's also wonderful in a million little ways. Here are a few of the things that make me smile and be glad I'm here, doing this amazing thing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Plodding up a hill for 30 minutes and being treated to a spectacular view at the top. (see top image)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Struggling up a difficult hill, and realizing I still have one more granny gear to drop down into. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When the bike works well and the gears shift cleanly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Random acts of kindness from strangers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Being soaked in a sweat at the top of a hill, then coasting down the back side so fast that it feels like air-conditioning and I'm almost cold by the time I'm at the bottom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Rolling hills that let me keep my momentum from the last hill to crest the next one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Finding out that a hill isn't as steep/long/difficult as it seemed from a distance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Finding a restaurant at just the exact time that I need breakfast/lunch/snack, and getting a fantastic big meal for <$5.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Meeting new and interesting people as we roll through their town. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Spotting a convenience store just as I need water/gatorade/chocolate milk to keep me going. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Staying at a campground so remote that there's no cell signal, and the stars are brilliant in the night sky. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Realizing that my tent feels like home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Getting on the bike in the morning, after doing this for 7 weeks, and still looking forward to riding that day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The endlessly beautiful scenery that is my 'daily grind.' </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Difficult days that keep redefining 'hardest day yet', and continuing to conquer them all. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Meeting other cyclist on the route and hearing their take on the trip. Also when we meet people riding in the other direction and they tell us things to look forward to. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When Bob and Mike pull out the ukelele and harmonica and play and sing for us into the night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ice cream.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cute towns we stay in, and finding great little restaurants/bars/cafes to relax in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I walk into a convenience store in Middle of Nowhere, wearing a yellow spandex bike shirt and shorts so tight you can tell my religion. Inside are a bunch of good-ol-boys in trucker hats talking about their pickups and where they're going hunting this weekend. I expect them to glare at me and murmur. Instead, they are friendly and ask where I'm going, or where I'm coming from. We chat for a few minutes, they wish me luck and tell me to "be safe out there!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Everyone we meet that hears about our trip is so excited and enthusiastic for us, asking questions and just generally happy and interested in our adventure. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Finding cool abandoned stuff and getting a great picture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Thunderstorms at night while I'm in my tent. The thunder echoing around the mountains, rain pounding and wind shaking my tent. Lightning flashing so much it's like a disco strobe light.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Feeling a mixture of scared and excited. And then falling asleep to the sound of rain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Getting texts and e-mail from friends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Getting comments on my blog (sadly, doesn't happen enough, hint hint.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Stepping on the bike petal and the shoe just clips in, without even trying. (Anyone who rides with clip-in appreciates that.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Rolling into a small town right at lunchtime and finding a perfect little lunch spot. Then, as some of us are sitting there, the rest of the group rolls up and joins us, until the whole group is sitting and having a meal together. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Pushing up a hill, struggling just a little bit, and then realizing I still have one more gear to drop down into. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Spotting a cool abandoned car/house/machine and stopping to get the perfect picture. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When other people in the group point out a cool abandoned car to me because they know I'm doing the Abandoned America photo essay. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Tailwinds. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Dropping down into my aero-bars and just pushing hard for a while and enjoying the feeling of speed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Seeing the mountains off in the distance, impossibly far, but also knowing we'll be there soon enough. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Having all my stuff organized in just the right way that I know where everything is, and it's all easy to get to when I need it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Gentle downhills that stretch for miles and I barely have to pedal. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Rest days where I get to discover a new town. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Rolling into town/camp after a long day and being finished. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cooking a great dinner for the group, and actually pulling it off. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The hospitality of strangers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The group working together and helping each other out in little ways, like doing laundry, helping each other put up a tent, to just asking 'are doing doing ok today?' </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Feeling the amazement of actually doing this grand adventure. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Seeing America at 10 miles an hour. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-71654546782948496522014-06-17T20:02:00.000-07:002014-07-03T16:54:36.795-07:00Why 2K?<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHdMUS3JytBUWOLMZ6b_PKkjj-tJK6a6wfwSP5NxY4w4gOh1qDpoerSO5FFJJNldwx8EuCN-lcq7lk7y7zhVWGfie3hVYGSZoUNG7_W7vnaX1o31KLN-Px33dXHr6sStDSS5k3xDUcHY2t/s1600/IMAGE_81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHdMUS3JytBUWOLMZ6b_PKkjj-tJK6a6wfwSP5NxY4w4gOh1qDpoerSO5FFJJNldwx8EuCN-lcq7lk7y7zhVWGfie3hVYGSZoUNG7_W7vnaX1o31KLN-Px33dXHr6sStDSS5k3xDUcHY2t/s1600/IMAGE_81.jpg" height="320" width="240"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I have bicycled two thousand miles. </span></div>
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That's a strange thing for me to wrap my head around. I've been on my bike seat for 6-10 hours a day, for the last 6+ weeks, and yet still this is a hard thing for me to really grasp. </div>
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Two thousand miles. </div>
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Wow. </div>
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From Yorktown, Va to Kansas just before the Colorado border. 5 states, 3 time zones, in <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">almost 7 weeks. </span></div>
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And yet, after all this time and all these miles, I still think every single day "Oh my god, I'm actually doing it!" </div>
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My enthusiasm may occasionally waver, be it heat, or headwinds or hills. But also at some point I look up at some beautiful scenery, or look down at my feet spinning and spinning, and think "I am really doing this, I am bicycling across the entire freakin' country!" </div>
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And I can't help but smile. My heart swells with the idea of it, both as I'm doing it, and as I'm sitting here writing about it. </div>
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The thought sometimes even pops up when the going gets tough, and then instead of thinking "this sucks", I think "this is what it takes to do this thing." and I push on. </div>
<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">As I was talking about this with another rider recently, he said he occasionally thinks "Geez, what did I get my self into!?" and that surprised me, because that thought has never passed through my head. There have been many trials and challenges, and I've been tired in ways I've never experienced before, but I have never once questioned or regretted my decision. </span></div>
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This ride has been on my mind for a long time, almost 8 years. For about half of that, I didn't even have a decent bike. Then I started doing triathlon and really got into bike riding. But even then I didn't pull the trigger on this trip. So this has been a dream for such a long time, that it feels surreal that it is finally happening. It's wonderful that it has been so much fun so far as well. Sure, I say almost every day how hard this is, but that's just one aspect. </div>
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There are a lot of moments so far on the trip that have made it live up to and even and surpass my dream:</div>
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Riding up the Blue Ridge mountains, on a grueling 12 hour day, and seeing the mountain range from the top. </div>
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CrossingAmerica at 10 miles an hour I get to see the country in such fine detail. There are rolling grassy fields that are so green the colors look hyper-exposed. I will take off my sunglasses just to make sure I'm seeing the true colors, and they are always just as brilliant. I see the deep blue sky stretch off to the horizon and it fills me with a sense of contentment.</div>
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There are tall trees in an empty field that look like they are stretching up trying to touch the sun.</div>
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I snap pictures of things that take my breath away, and feel a small sadness that the photo fails to capture the grandeur of what I'm experiencing. </div>
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I have time to examine all the houses and towns I pass, and think about the people who live there. I've rolled through hundreds of Main Streets, in little towns and big ones. </div>
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I have had the pleasure of meeting so many interesting people and experiencing hospitality on a level I never could have dreamed and didn't realize still existed. I've made friends in the tour group that have entertained me, educated me and supported me. I've survived 'The Crucible' in Kentucky, 'The Inferno' in Missouri, and 'The Blast Furnace' in Kansas. I am going to ride a bicycle over the Rocky Mountains. </div>
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All of this just amazes me; that I'm doing it, that I can do it. </div>
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The trip is just shy of the halfway mark, but it feels like a lot longer. If this trip ended tomorrow, I would feel like I've had a full, epic and wonderful adventure. So the idea that this is not even halfway through is thrilling. How much I've experienced, seen, pushed my limits and learned in the 2000 miles to this point has me excited for what more lies over the Rockies, in Montana and Wyoming, at Yellowstone Park, and then the final push through Oregon to the Pacific Coast. </div>
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I don't know if I've 'grown' per-say on this trip so far, but certainly my worldview has been expanded.</div>
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And this is just 6 and a half weeks. </div>
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This is a variation of a line in 'Men in Black' (of all places) where Tommy Lee Jones says 'Think about what you knew yesterday, and how much more you know today. Imagine what you'll know tomorrow.' </div>
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I think about how much I've seen so far, how far I've come, and how much more there is still yet to experience. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Hi! If you're visiting from the Bike Bits newsletter, please sign the guest book and say 'hi'!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-31932422659693274272014-06-14T14:53:00.001-07:002014-06-14T14:53:24.972-07:00Missouri Loves Company<div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One week in Missouri, that's what it took to experience the highs and the lows of this trip. Well, not really 'lows' per-say, as my spirits never wavered, but certainly some of the tougher days on the road. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Things seemed to start very nice, there was an option to take a 'flatcut' along the Mississippi River that was smooth riding. The day was beautiful, the route was scenic, the weather was perfect, and there was practically no traffic. I did about 50 miles that day and barely felt it. It was the flattest day of the tour yet, and it was heaven to just roll along the edge of the river and not have to do any climbing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Except, none of that was in Missouri, that was still in IL. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then we crossed the bridge into Missouri. The state started off beautiful; it was flat, there was a wonderful blue sky and fields of crops out to the horizon. Also the 'Bike Route 76' signs were back, after being absent in Kentucky and Illinois. These are nice reassuring signposts along the route that are friendly reminders that you're going the right way. Sometimes I zone out and forget to look at my map, so occasionally these signs have saved me from missing a turn.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1xGYR4BzM9I/U40fiDnQQSI/AAAAAAAAAo8/xLqpQPfmgEs/s1600/IMAGE_185.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1xGYR4BzM9I/U40fiDnQQSI/AAAAAAAAAo8/xLqpQPfmgEs/s1600/IMAGE_185.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But, as we got farther away from the Mississippi, the terrain got hillier and hillier. The day also got hotter as the sun rose further in the sky. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Often, the catch is that when the sun is out and brilliantly lighting up the lush landscape, the day is blazingly hot. So we trade off beautiful views and rich blue sky for blazing heat, and that was the case that day. (I know, you're thinking, 'of course it's warm when the sun is out!' But there have been days where it was just naturally cool, and still beautiful out.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The first day in Missouri wasn't particularly long, and although the hills were tough they weren't the killers we had in Kentucky, but the heat and humidity take it's tole. And this day in particular we were warned that there was a long (30 mile) stretch with no resources, so I stocked up on extra water and gatorade and plowed through. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then, like an oasis in a desert, there was a whiskey brewery about 45 miles into the 60 mile day! Several people from our tour were already there, I pulled in, stepped into the air-conditioning, and was instantly refreshed. There, I had the most delicious home brewed root beer ever, and sat for a spell. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then I bought a bottle of wine for a gift, and it fit perfectly in the water bottle holder on my bike. Lets just hope I don't run out of water and have to resort to <i>drastic</i> measures to stay hydrated. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Back out in the heat, I had 15 miles to Farmington, Mo. and the first night in the state. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We stayed at a bicycle hostel in a converted old prison. (The hostel part was actually in the deputy's quarters upstairs.) This was by far the nicest cyclist hotel of the trip. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Also that night, my cousin Stacy and her daughter Allie came all the way down from St. Louis to visit me! I got to introduce them to the tour group, show her the spiffy digs we were staying in, and spend a great evening with the two of them. It was truly wonderful, and so great to see her after several years. And, after seeing the nice bike hostel, she thinks all the places I stay are that cushy! ... if only. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The second day in Mo was short, and we took our time getting to camp. It was threatening to rain all day, but didn't. It was just endlessly gray. Again, the trade off was that they sky was bleak, but it was cooler and the humidity was down. We stayed at a nice park called 'Johnsons Shut-ins', which was away from all the light of the city, and I could see a million stars in the sky. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The short day was a bit of a reprieve leading into the next one, which was billed as one of the toughest of the tour, and it did not disappoint. This was a longer day, about 68 miles, hot, and hilly as hell. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I feel like the cyclist that cried 'wolf', because I keep saying 'this was the hardest day ever!' And although it's tough to really gauge, this one is certainly in the top 3. Just when I think things can't get harder, the dial is turned up to 11.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It sounds silly when boiled down to a few simple words; hot, hilly, long. So I'll expand on those a bit. The temperature was up to almost 90 before 10 am, and by noon it was close to 100. It was full sun, not many clouds in the sky and no breeze. It was nearly 100% humidity. This means that when I sweat, it's actually hotter outside than my body temp, and the sweat doesn't dry off my skin because of the humidity. So the water just pours out of my body and doesn't do me any good. When it's that hot, it's difficult to stay hydrated and keep my electrolytes balanced, and I have to constantly monitor these things and keep them in mind. Then adding to the difficulty were some of the steepest hills I have faced yet. When a hill is too steep, I have to get off my bike and walk/push it up the hill. I walked more that day than all the days combined before this. Sometimes I walked because the hill was just too steep. Other times it was because I was already too tired, and occasionally I realized that I might be able to pedal up the hill but the effort would wipe me out and leave nothing for the next hill. So I walked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There wasn't much in the way of breakfast at the campsite, so we pushed on to the first town 20 miles down the road to find restaurants. I was nearly last out of camp that morning and by the time I found the group at the first diner, the place was packed and the kitchen was backed up. At the gas station next door I asked a local if there was another restaurant in town, and he directed me "about 4 miles up RT 54, at the top of the hill." Sigh, there's always a hill. Then he says to me "It's incredible what you're doing, but son, I think you're crazy."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That wasn't just in reference to the ride, but also for biking on that particular road. This is another aspect that can greatly affect the ease or difficulty of a day, the quality of the roads. On this day, the roads were narrow and heavily trafficked, in particular by big logging trucks rushing to and fro. When they pass by in my lane, the wake pulls me along a little, and shakes my bike pretty hard. When they zoom by in the opposing lane, 3 seconds later the wind hits me in the chest like a fist. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I check my mirror constantly for cars, and have to be keenly aware of my position in the road on the tops of hills and around curves. It's very quite in these back country hills and sound carries very well, so I can often hear a vehicle coming long before I can even see them. I listen closely and keep my music turned off.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The day wears on, and although the scenery is still beautiful, it's getting more difficult to appreciate. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The ride is starting to be measured in 5 mile increments; ride 5, rest and rehydrate, continue on. Then at some point that drops to 3, and then 2 miles. Sometimes I'll stop in the shade just before a big hill to let my heart rate and body temp come down a little before they shoot back up on the hill. At this rate, time expands and every mile feels like a marathon. The water in my bottles is hot from the sun and there's no relief in the shade. As I push up a hill, I can hear my heart throb in my ears as the sweat pours down my face. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then, after more time and more exhaustion than I was prepared to expect, I arrive at camp. In this case, the campsite was up another hill, and down a long rocky road that shook my saddlebags loose and jogged my already road-weary backside. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There was little relief at camp, it was still hot and humid, all I could do was sit in the shade and drink gatorade while the bugs buzzed around my face. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That night, the heat and humidity broke into huge thunderstorms. Lightning flashing so furiously it looked like a dance club strobe light, while the thunder was the base booming in the distance. Late at night as I lay in bed and see the dazzling flashes light up my tent, the deep boom of thunder rolls along the mountain range, not quite an echo, it sounds like a bowling ball in an oil drum. Later, either the storm subsided, or I just fell asleep due to exhaustion despite the cacophony.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The following day was a much needed rest day at this little camp in the hills of the Ozark mountains. The heavy storms of the night before brought some relief to the heat and humidity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The campsite offered lazy river tubing tours, and as a group most of us opted to float down a cold river and do little else. This was refreshing, relaxing and fun. It was very different to sit in a tube for 4 hours and just let the current take me where it goes. After pedaling for so many days and weeks, it feels weird and antsy to sit still. And I've never been particularly good at sitting still. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That night we ordered pizza, relaxed and prepared to get back on the road the next day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There are a lot of ups and downs on this trip (literally and figuratively), the day before last was hot and hard, then we have a wonderful rest day and are rejuvenated for the next day's ride! And then... it's a slog again. The day was overcast, but still hot and humid. By mile 5 I was soaked through with sweat. By mile 10 it was raining steadily, and by mile 20 I had been riding in a full downpour for an hour. The rain didn't let up for the rest of the day. The roads were wide enough, but very heavily trafficked. 4 of us rode together for increased visibility and to look out for each other. We kept looking for someplace to duck under and out of the rain, but there was nothing for 40 miles. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On the upside, it wasn't swelteringly hot. On the downside, rain really stings my face as I bomb down a hill at 35 mph. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We rolled into Houston, Mo. (in Texas county!) pretty early. This is what happens when it's a shorter distance day, you're motivated to push, and there's nowhere to stop! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cold, wet, hungry, and miserable, I sank to my lowest when I ate lunch at Walmart because camp was in a city park and offered no reprieve from the elements. By the time I'd finished lunch, it had stopped raining and the sun was out. Such is life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I wasn't in the best mood that evening. The ride wasn't overly difficult, but it was fairly miserable. I felt wet down to my bones. Topping it off, the shower at the campsite was only cold water, so there was no reprieve there. After dinner I was ready to just crawl into my sleeping bag and call it a day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But... It's amazing how a single act of kindness can turn your mood around. This day was going to be remembered as 'that crappy day in the rain', until a stranger we met earlier came to camp and delivered a batch of fresh (still warm!) homemade chocolate chip cookies that she baked just for us. The woman wasn't much of a talker, she just dropped off a plastic bag full of cookies, offered a shy smile and went on her way. I didn't even think to ask her name before she left (found out later it's Jen.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The cookies were warm and delicious and were more than just tasty, they were up-lifting. Instead of the day being 'that day in the rain' it was 'the day that wonderful woman brought warm cookies.' And that's a much better memory. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There was also a beautiful sunset that night, assisted by the storm clouds lingering in the distance. I could appreciate it a little more with cookies in my belly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The uplift of that night carried over to the next day, where the steep hills of the Ozarks gave way to beautiful rolling hills. The weather was threatening to rain all day, but held off until literally 5 minutes after we got to camp (and under a pavilion) and then the sky opened up like floodgates! Two hours and several inches of water later the clouds cleared into a beautiful evening. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The final day and night in Missouri was nice. The day started off with rain, the remnants of the storm from the evening before. But after a short and heavy pour (for which I ducked for cover at yet another walmart), the day cleared up and into one of the most beautiful of the trip. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">However, it was premature to think I was out of the Ozarks just yet, because they came back with a vengeance. But it was a 'shorter' 49 mile day that finished at a nice cyclist hostel in Ash Grove, Mo. The town itself was pretty depressed, and almost every shop on Main Street was boarded up and closed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Except for this little Mexican restaurant that welcomed us enthusiastically. The group settled in there and the drinks flowed freely. We had a fine dinner with wonderful hospitality, and the owner/chef made a berry cobbler just for us! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Much later, we reluctantly left and went to bed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Finally, the last day in Missouri saw us off with a smile and a wave; 'Sorry for the hard times, hope you'll remember me fondly!' It was a long 72 mile day, but with tail winds and easy rolling hills it was the easiest 72 miles I've ever done. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There were some hard times and some good times. The people were fantastic and the ride was beautiful. And really, it's all part of the experience. Missouri, thanks for the memories. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing a fire look-out tower, that might have<br />been built out of leftover Erector set parts. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just in case you might have been interested.</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-78058721487310205942014-06-10T10:23:00.001-07:002014-06-10T10:25:45.129-07:00Pride goeth before the fall<div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Or: Seven Deadly sins</span></div>
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A friend recently asked me if I feel proud of what I've done so far, and what I'm doing in general. This got me thinking, and I realized I don't actually feel 'proud' specifically. I'm happy with what I've accomplished; this is both the daily grind of getting in the miles and the hills, and overall challenge of going on this trip in general. I'm happy with what I'm doing, and know that it is hard. But I'm looking at this from the inside out. Everyone around me is doing the same thing, so it doesn't feel all that wondrous. It's just my daily grind. I think I might feel pride when I'm done, for having finished something so big. But in the day to day riding, and even looking at this for the various milestones (1500 miles, 5 weeks, climbed the Appalachians and the Ozarks, etc), they're all just things I had to do. </div>
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Additionally, her question got me pondering the 'sin' of Pride, and how I feel about the Seven Deadly Sins in general. So here's my take on each of them. </div>
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Pride - See above. </div>
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Wrath - Directed at the hills! Seriously, those hills are obnoxious! Give it time and I might develop 'wrath' towards my bike seat. But really, I'm not mad about anything. </div>
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Sloth - HAHAHAHA!</div>
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Gluttony - Oh, hell yeah. I eat everything. </div>
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Lust - Not for at least 3 months, and certainly not after sitting in the bike seat for 8 or 9 hours a day. </div>
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Avarice - There's not much to hoard or be greedy about. I have my little bunch of stuff I need, and that's it. The group as a whole is very generous and sharing. Occasionally I go into a store, like a walmart to restock shampoo or sunscreen, but as I walk around I realize there's nothing in the store I want. I'm actually hoping this aversion to stuff carries over when I'm done. </div>
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Envy - We all have a little bit of 'gear envy' towards someone else's stuff. Maybe a shiny set of fenders, a really cool Garmin trip computer, or an awesome Pink Floyd cycling jersey. But as a whole, envy doesn't exist on this trip. </div>
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So there you have it. Some sins, but not many. We are a blessed group. ;-)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-52437662756523534162014-06-07T19:10:00.000-07:002014-06-07T19:10:05.256-07:00My people<div>
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In the months leading up to this adventure, I was talking to everyone about the upcoming ride. People were really excited for me, and asked lots of questions. Often also suggesting that I'm 'crazy' for doing this (said in good humor, mostly.) </div>
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And I got used to people asking questions, and me talking about this trip so much. </div>
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So when I got to Williamsburg, Va. and met up with all the other riders for the first time, it was an interesting shift because nobody was asking me about the trip and nobody was calling me crazy. These were all people doing this! So we were all on common ground. We just talked to each other like regular folks; where are you from, what do you do, what's your background/backstory, etc. I was among my people. :-)</div>
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Getting to know my fellow riders, I ask 'why did you want to do this?' Which is simultaneously the most obvious question, and the most unnecessary. There are different initial motivations, but the end result is the same; we wanted to do an epic adventure. </div>
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It takes a certain kind of person to step out of your life for 3 months to sit on a bike and pedal across America. So while we all have vastly different personalities, there's an underlying commonalty and mindset that binds us.</div>
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There's a lot of varied background among the group. Some of them have done touring before, but also several of us have never done anything like this. Those who have done touring have done rides from 2 weeks up to a month, but nothing nearly as long as this ride, so regardless of our background and experience, this is essentially new to all of us. (And after a month of riding, we're all at the same experience level now!)</div>
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The riders have a lot of different fitness backgrounds. Many are avid bike riders, of course, but one of the guys is an ultra distance runner and a few of the people are not big bike riders in general, and took it up in earnest to do this trip. Others have varying degrees of bike time. I fall somewhere in the middle, as a fitness guy but not a long distance rider. But again, none of that history matters, after a month we're all long distance tourers!</div>
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Here are the folks I'm riding with:</div>
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There are 2 other guys here my age, Ed is from Massachusetts and is a month older than me. We simultaneously have the most in common, and the least. We can relate to each other by age, and he gets all my pop culture references. But he's very mellow and quiet, and I'm a loud smartass. Ed occasionally leads a short post-ride yoga session for stretching that I enjoy.</div>
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David is the tour leader, and also the same age as me. He has the patience of a saint, and handles this group with aplomb. He works with at-risk youth in an outdoor program, so his people skills and camping skills are very valuable. </div>
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Saraya is the youngest of the group, and has become a bit of the group mascot. Hanging around with so many older folks, everyone has a desire to look after her. The thing is, she is more self sufficient than maybe even she realizes. She has a fierce will and a positive outlook. </div>
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Everyone else in the group is 60 years old, +/- 3 years. Some are retired, but not all of them. </div>
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Normand is one of two foreigners with us. He's from Quebec, and speaks with a quaint French-Canadian accent. He's somewhat quiet, but one of the smartest and wisest people in our group. He's also the barrista of the group and makes excellent coffee for everyone, every morning. </div>
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Bob from Nebraska is another quiet guy in the group, but he has a fun side bubbling just under the surface. One time I heard him yell 'weee!' as we went down a hill. Seeing him let out his inner 14 year old, I knew he was a good guy. Bob bought a ukelele at a pawn shop the second week of the trip, and plays it most nights. His rendition of 'Mr. Bojangles' is beautiful. </div>
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Mike from Georgia is an interesting juxtaposition; his heavy southern drawl belies his sharp mind and deep knowledge. He's hiked the Appalachian Trail, and has the most outdoors experience. He brought a few harmonicas with him, and bought a miniature guitar a few weeks into the trip so he could play with Bob. Their duets are often highlights of the evening. </div>
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Scott and Sam are a married couple from California. Scott is one of the strongest riders in the group, and Sam is a very kind and warm woman who is always positive and smiling, even when she's struggling. </div>
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Annika is our other foreigner, she's Swedish, from Germany, and recently lived in Dubai for several years. Don't ask, I can't keep it all straight! She's also worked at the North Pole on a medical assignment. She's an OBG/YN and internist. She's simultaneously brilliant and obtuse. She is also generally vocal about things she doesn't like. </div>
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John from Colorado is possibly the nicest person I've ever met. He'd give you the shirt off his back and smile while doing it. He's retired, but works at REI to fill the time (and get the discount.) He's the go-to guy in the group for bike maintenance and has helped me on several occasions. He's got a sweet tooth that rivals my own, and I made a friend for life when I shared a giant slab of chocolate cake with him the very first night of the trip. </div>
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Randy B from Ohio is a gentleman's gentleman. He is an extremely friendly, kind and quiet man. He's the distance runner, and decided to do this trip in order to have a grand adventure. His wife came down to meet us in Kentucky and they are an adorable couple. </div>
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Megan and Randy from Idaho are the couple that left the tour in Carbondale. Randy was not overly social, and mostly kept himself. Still, he was always very polite and friendly whenever I talked to him. Meg was more social, but still not overly so. She was warm and kind and if we could get her to sing she had a great voice. They bowed out of the trip around day 30, as it got very difficult for them and lost its fun. </div>
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Janet started the tour with us, but bowed out after 8 or 9 days. This was more physically demanding than she anticipated, and she had a number of issues that were difficult for her to overcome. She was a total sweetheart, and she would have fit in great with this crowd. But the challenges that came after she left were orders of magnitude more difficult than what we faced at first, so maybe it wasn't meant to be. </div>
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And lastly there's a rider named Richard. </div>
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As a group, I think we really lucked out with this crowd. Pretty much everyone gets along, and we all have a good temperament. Its a fun group that enjoys what we're doing, doesn't complain too much, and has a great sense of adventure. There are very few friction points, and no 'alpha-males' that demand being the center of attention, and for the most part they like my sense of humor - which is always a plus. </div>
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It's a lot of fun being in a group of like-minded people. Surprisingly, there are no vegetarians in the group, and the only food restriction is one person with a mild shellfish allergy. So it's easy to shop for dinner, and as a group we'll eat pretty much anything. In fact, it's fun being around people who eat the way I do, that is to say; often, in great quantities, and not too picky! Other people have said that from the pictures and updates they post that their family thinks all we do is eat! And boy do we eat! We have breakfast at camp, but also pack a huge lunch for the road. I try to snack every hour to keep my energy up, plus a real lunch and occasionally second breakfast or lunch. </div>
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One time we went into a convenience store and practically ate the place clean! I refer to us a locusts, because we come in, eat everything, and then move on!</div>
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Lastly, one aspect of being around people doing the same thing I am every day is that is sort of mutes the whole thing. What I'm doing every day doesn't seem as big a deal because everyone around me is doing the same thing. So when I talk to people outside my little circle who are impressed or amazed or even just excited for what I'm doing, it feels weird. Because in my little world, it's just what we do, every day. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-50673953985594305212014-06-04T15:21:00.001-07:002014-06-04T15:21:37.981-07:00A Day in the Life<div>
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You've read stories here about how hard a day of riding can be, or how beautiful. Here is a description of what a general, typical day on the tour looks like. Some of the fun and interesting things we see and do, and some of the mundane things that are necessary in order to pedal across the land. </div>
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The morning starts with an alarm at 5:45. I hit 'snooze', even though other people in camp are already up and milling about. At 6:00, I'll reluctantly drag my ass out of bed, mostly rested and getting ready to face the day. </div>
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After I'm up, I'll start packing up my stuff. I roll up my sleeping bag and ground pad. Pack away my clothes and other stuff into various bags and get dressed in my riding clothes for the day. By the time I leave my tent around 6:15 or 6:30, everything I have is all packed up. </div>
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There's a group breakfast usually set up by about 6:30, 7 at the latest. Depending on what was available to buy at the local store the night before, the offerings will vary. We typically have oatmeal, some cold cereal, milk and orange juice. Sometimes there's some fruit. Somebody will be making coffee, and people are milling about as zombies until they have their first cup. </div>
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There's also food-stuff for us to put together a lunch for the day. Cold cuts & cheese sandwiches if there was a decent store the night before. There's usually granola bars, cookies and some chips. Apples and maybe oranges if they were available. Bananas are also a regular staple, along with PB&J. We're not shy about loading up on food. I have a little cooler bag I originally bought to take my lunch to work, I pack that full with one of everything. I'll eat most of it through the course of the day. </div>
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After breakfast I break down my tent and roll it up. I don't have a dry bag for my tent, so I roll it up in the tarp I use for a ground cloth. I call it my tent burrito.<br />
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(update! I found my tent bag, so I don't have to do the tent burrito unless there's rain in the forecast!)<br />
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Everything else gets packed back into the saddle bags or strapped to the bike with bungee cords.</div>
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We usually have our act together by around 7:30 and everyone is packed up and ready to go. Some people are eager to roll, and they head out on their own. Depending on the day, we might ride as a group, ride as smaller groups, or I occasionally end up riding by myself. </div>
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I'm tired when I get on the road and start pedaling, but only 15 or 20 minutes into the ride I look up at the beautiful scenery and have a renewed sense of appreciation for the beauty of the surroundings and how fortunate I am to be here.<br />
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We try to get 15 miles, or an hour and a half of riding under our wheels before our first stop. Although it has more to do with the availability of a place to stop than it does with our desire. There's been a real scarcity of stores and restaurants. Before I came on the trip, I had this idea that I'd be stopping at all these wonderful country restaurants for breakfast and lunch! They don't exist. Or, when they do they are few and far between, and not always 'top notch.' The thing that surprised me the most was how many 'meals' I'd be making at gas stations, and then, how happy I'd be to see a gas station on otherwise empty roads. </div>
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So I stop into a gas station and have 'second breakfast' which is usually some drink to boost our energy like chocolate milk or a V8. I'll buy a gatorade for the road and top off my water bottles. I'll buy a snack depending on what they have, and maybe eat half a PB&J sandwich.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rare opportunity for a real sit-down second breakfast!</td></tr>
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Back on the road, I warmed up and ready to tackle the day. Optimistic and full of energy. That'll last until about noon. </div>
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Mostly we ride through the countryside, lots of hills and sparsely populated, on back roads that are lightly traveled. Drivers are generally courteous. I've been passed by thousands of cars and trucks, and can count on 2 hands the number that have been obnoxious. </div>
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Sometimes I'll turn on the music on my phone and play it out of the phone speaker. The quality is bad, and it's hard to hear, but it breaks up the silence (or, drowns out my squeaky bike chain.) I don't always play it. </div>
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There are a lot of hills. I drop down into 'granny gear', zone out and spin. Then after a half hour, or even longer, I'll finally crest the hill and get to roll down the other side. I will just never get tired of bombing down the backside of a hill, sometimes upwards of 40 mph! It's like a cross between downhill skiing and a roller-coaster, and it is relentlessly thrilling. </div>
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Often I try to remember to look up and take in the scenery, look at the different trees, the rock formations, look through the treeline to see hills off in the distance.<br />
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I follow my maps that lead me along back country highways, small rural roads, and quaint little side roads that even the locals might not know about. Along the way I look out for 'Bike Route 76' signs that sometimes supplement my maps. They are friendly guides along the way, to either help keep me on track, or just remind me I'm on the right path. (See the pic at the top of the post for the sign)</div>
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As I go through towns, (really small, no traffic-light towns) I check out the houses, try to figure out what people in these parts do for a living. Look at the fancy new houses and the rundown trailers. No matter where you go, there are highs and lows, from downtown Philadelphia, to backwater Kentucky. </div>
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Around noon or 1, I stop to have lunch. This might coincide with finding another gas station, or maybe just pull over somewhere on the side of the road, sit in the grass and eat my bagged lunch.<br />
If I stop for more than 10 minutes, my legs cool off. Then when I get back on the bike my muscles feel like clay, and take 5 minutes to warm back up. Ideally, I dont' have to start back up on a hill. Clay legs on hills = suck. </div>
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Warmed up and pedaling, I am just as happy to be out and riding on the fourth week as I was the first day. The scenery is still beautiful, the sky is an amazing shade of blue and -twack!!- a big bug smacks into my face. A day of riding is not complete until a bug hits me in the face. </div>
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Sitting on the bike, pedaling, nothing else in the world matters. Just me, the miles under my wheels, and the scenery that goes by. My body is working hard, but my mind is calm, it is almost meditative. </div>
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As I'm pedaling along and taking everything around me, I'm also on the lookout for abandoned cars and houses for my Abandoned America photo album.<br />
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After many hour and many miles, I roll into camp. Sometimes camp is easy to find, sometimes it's a little hidden. I'm rarely first into, but also rarely last. </div>
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In camp, I'll scope out the setup; where is the bathroom and shower, where are we setting up dinner? I pick a flat spot with minimal rocks, not on the other side of camp from the bathroom. The back panniers come off the bike, along with the tent. I'll usually sit for a little bit and just relax and let my body recover from the ride. Then I'll set up my tent, blow up my sleeping pad, and dig out my clothes, toiletries and towel, and head to the shower.<br />
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The group has a rotating dinner responsibility. So the two people on cook duty tonight will empty their panniers and head to the closest grocery store. They'll buy fixings for dinner, plus stuff for breakfast and lunch the next day. We all carry a little bit of the group gear needed for dinner and cleanup. </div>
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At camp, the riders will trickle in, maybe separated by an hour, at most. We set up, clean up, and talk about the ride. If there was anything exciting or out of the ordinary, it's the talk of the table that night (like a dog attack, an aggressive driver, a really great bar along the way, a hard hill or a fun downhill.)</div>
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Someone might have picked up some beer at a store on the way into camp, and people will crack open a can (or 3) and chill. </div>
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Dinner is usually served around 6p, and we're all starving by then. The cooks have been pretty good, and in 30 days I've had maybe 2 bad meals, and those were due to limited grocery availability wherever we were staying. </div>
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After dinner we do cleanup, and that's on the same rotation as the cooks. The two on cleanup tonight are the cooks tomorrow. </div>
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Following dinner we have a 'map meeting'. This is where we review the route we're taking tomorrow. We all have a set of maps that lays out the route all the way across the country. We'll discuss how far we're going, what towns are along the way (and what services are available, like restaurants, stores, etc.) If there are any words of warning or wisdom from past tours added to the leader's notes, he'll share them. We will also gloss over the upcoming week so we have an idea of what's ahead, including any upcoming rest days and where those will be located. </div>
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(Pictures of the maps are at the end of this post.)<br />
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After map meeting, my day is effectively done. As a group, we'll hang out and chat, maybe play cards or do any work on our bikes. If there is a laundry nearby, we'll probably throw a load in. Since we don't have a lot of clothes individually, we will combine loads to save time and money. </div>
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Depending on how hard the day was, we might go to bed early. If we are in a town (and actually <i>in</i> town), we might go to a bar and hang out for a little while. If not, two of the guys in the group have a few instruments between then and they might strike up a song. If there's internet connectivity, many of us are on our phones or tablets responding to messages and updating our blogs. </div>
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I try to get to bed by 10 if I can. Sometimes it happens, most of the time it doesn't. I might read for 15 or 20 minutes (it takes a while to get through a book at that rate!) or I might type up a blog post or upload pictures from the day. I'll write my daily 'G/B/U' and post that if I have a signal, if not I'll save it for when I do. </div>
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Then I turn off my headlamp and go to sleep. I've been able to fall asleep pretty quickly, but I still don't sleep all that great. At the last rest day I bought a new ground pad (the inflatable pad I put my bag on) and thats helped a little. But I wake up frequently in the night to roll over. Still, somehow I manage to get just enough sleep to make it through the next day!</div>
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And at 5:45, my alarm goes off and I do it all over again! Grateful for the opportunity, and one day closer to the west coast!</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-40509331668817023182014-06-01T18:07:00.001-07:002014-06-01T18:07:48.746-07:00Abandoned America<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">You might have noticed a lot of pictures of rusted cars and overgrown buildings in my blog posts. A few people have even asked me about them. Here's the story of that...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">On the third or fourth day of the trip we rode past this house that just stood out to me. The house was a simple small one story home in a depressed part of the back country. There was a carport and a small yard. Nothing about the house was special or remarkable. I wanted to stop and take a picture of it, but I didn't want to lose the group I was with, so I didn't, and I regret it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The thing about the house that stood out so much was that it was abandoned, utterly and totally forgotten a left to time. It was overgrown, windows were broken by wind and weather. The grass was so tall there was no hint of a driveway or walkway left. Adding to this scene was a modest car parked in the carport, front facing out. On the other side of the house was a medium size boat, also facing forward. Both of these were in moderate condition, with the exception that they were also totally overgrown, covered in dust and dirt and time, with trees growing up around them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The house looked sad, depressed, and just abandoned. Nature was well on it's way to reclaiming the land. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It was fascinating to me, what was the story behind this house, with it's average car and someone who loved the water enough to buy a boat. Did the owner die? Go to jail? Somehow otherwise disappear? Why were there no family or friends to claim the property, the car or the boat? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">So there it just sat, slowly rotting and growing over. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It is over three weeks since I saw this house, I still regret not taking a picture, but the mental image remains clear in my head. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">This got me thinking about "Abandoned America." I see abandoned items every day, and now they stand out to me even more. Why are these things here? Who owned them? At one point, this thing was really important to somebody. Be it a house, a car, a piece of farm equipment, a barn, or even a sign. And now, all of these things are just left where they stand, nobody to claim it or remove it or even care about. What are the stories behind them? Who were the people that cared about these things and why did they stop? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I don't know what the story is behind these things, but the story I'm seeing and telling through my pictures is what they represent now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Many of you have noticed a lot of pictures of rusted out cars and overgrown barns. A few people have asked me about it. Well, here's the explanation. As I ride my bicycle across America, I'm looking for the things that were abandoned to time, forgotten by everyone else, and are now found by my camera. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Not everything I take a picture of is 'artistic.' I feel that sometimes I get lucky and the picture turns out beautiful, or haunting, or just interesting. Other times it's just a picture of some barn or dirty car. But they all represent some piece of history that will never be known. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Below are some of my favorite pictures that I've taken so far of "Abandoned America", and I intend to keep taking these as I pedal across the country. But you can see the full album on Picasa, and I will continue to add to the album as I find more lost items strewn across the landscape. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Let me know what you think about this, what is your favorite picture or what stood out to you? I'm interested to hear your thoughts on "Abandoned America." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Picasa Album: </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">https://plus.google.com/photos/108805266521608233137/albums/6017888896218820113?authkey=CM_rodjegpSYRA</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you look really closely, there's an old Chrysler K-Car in the grass! This looked like it'd been abandoned for decades.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><span id="goog_949965460"></span><span id="goog_949965461"></span><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-19928573733236030362014-05-30T07:25:00.002-07:002014-05-30T07:25:36.999-07:00The Crucible<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Monday, May 26, tour day 23</span></div>
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The experience of this trip can turn on a dime from perfect to pathetic.</div>
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Monday, the route threw everything it could at me in an effort to defeat me, but I persevered!</div>
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A few weeks ago, it was naive to declare the day 'the hardest day ever', because that seems to be redefined on a regular basis. Monday was one of those times. </div>
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We knew it was going to be a long day and difficult day. An 81 mile day was by far the most mileage we've done yet. People in the group planned to tackle this by getting up and on the road early. I did not. I'm not a morning person, so I got up at my regular time, was a little more expeditious than normal, but got on the road around the time I normally do. </div>
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The campsite the night before was in a bit of a 'food desert' so there were no stores to pick up breakfast and lunch fixins for the day. That was the first challenge. </div>
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We hit up a convenience store/mini-mart at the corner on the way out, and made due with what they had. </div>
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The day started off nice, but warmed up quickly. It had been cool and dry the last several days but that broke some time overnight and the heat and humidity were bearing down on me by 9 am. </div>
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The prior few days had been really nice, with gently rolling hills that were barely noticeable after the hard climbing we've done. That changed on Monday though, and the steep Kentucky hills were back with a vengeance. Right off the bat, there was a hill so steep that we all had to get off our bikes and push them up the hill. That happened several times throughout the day, either because the hills were that steep, or they just came in such quick succession that my legs couldn't handle them! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Written on the road at the top of the hill. </td></tr>
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Around 10 am I found a little greasy spoon restaurant and had 'second breakfast', which was wonderful. There's been a dearth of restaurants along the way, and when we do find them we've either already eaten, or the timing just doesn't work. But today I was riding alone and the timing was just right!</div>
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After breakfast I ran into some of my group about a half mile up the road, they had stopped for flavored ice, and were just getting back on the road, so I fell in with them and we rode on. </div>
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Being Memorial Day, there was a lot of vacation traffic, and we were heading into a place called Rough River Lake, which was apparently a popular recreation destination. People were heading there with their boats and RVs. We ended up with a lot of traffic stuck behind us on a narrow 2 lane road going up a hill. This is a double whammy because we're really slow going up the hill, and the cars are stuck behind us and they can't see over the top of the hill for oncoming traffic to safely pass us in the other lane. So they're basically stuck waiting for us to get up the hill. One the one hand, it was good that there was a larger group of us, so we were more visible as a group, but it also made it more difficult for people to get around. For the most part, people were very patient and courteous, but there were one or two people who were not. The worst offender was one big RV that would rev it's engine every time it passed a rider - the exhaust belching out black smoke that totally engulfed us in toxic darkness. </div>
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So far we have; Hill, heat, traffic and toxic exhaust. And that was all before noon! </div>
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As the day wore on, it continued to get warmer, and the hills felt like they got harder. Stores were few and far between, so I stopped when the opportunity presented in order to get gatorade and something to eat. </div>
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Then, it was noon, again! We crossed the timezone line and traveled one hour backwards in time! Great Scott! </div>
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This was apropos, because time seemed to drag on, and felt like it flowed backwards as the miles stacked up and the hills were relentless. </div>
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Adding to the rough day, I also finally started getting saddle sore. Nothing terrible, but on a day where I spent 9 hours on the bike, it certainly wasn't pleasant. </div>
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Then, around 3 pm, as the hills wore on and my legs wore out, nature decided that we hadn't quite had enough yet, and the skies opened up on us in a heavy downpour. But the joke is on Mother Nature, because the rain felt great. The other riders around me stopped to don their rain gear, but I just tucked my phone away someplace dry and rode on in the rain. I was already soaked with sweat, what's a little more moisture going to do? Steam rose off the hot pavement, and I could taste the salt streaming down my face, but I wiped it away with the back of my wet glove and just smiled. </div>
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Still, the hills didn't relent, and at one point I was barreling down a hill so fast that the rain was stinging my face!</div>
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The downpour eased up after about forty minutes, and another half hour after that I was just about dry! Which was the cue for it to rain, again! Then, the sun came out and I was riding in a sunshower, which was kind of neat and a little pleasant. </div>
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After the rain let up the second time, the sun came back out and I was baking again. By then, I was only 10 miles from the end, so of course the hills ramped up, with several long, steep climbs to the finish. With just over 2 miles left, the last big hill did me in and I ran out of energy. I stopped and ate a Cliff bar I'd been saving for an emergency, drank a bunch of water and had the power I needed for one last push. </div>
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We stayed that night at a volunteer fire house in Utica, KY, a town of less than 500. There was still very little around, so we ate dinner at the local gas station / food mart across the street. </div>
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Then, exhausted, we slept on the floor of the fire house. But, the place was air conditioned, had a shower and even a washer & dryer. To us, it was like the four seasons! </div>
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Exhausted, but having traveled backwards in time by one hour, we crashed for the night. Preparing to do it all over again the next day.<br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Thank you for reading!</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-2556849405519598692014-05-27T19:44:00.000-07:002014-05-27T19:46:58.911-07:00Two Days in Paradise<div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Friday and Saturday, May 24 & 25.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Before I started, when I would think about this trip, this is what I would daydream that the days would be like. These two days, this was what I dreamed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As has been the case more often than not, the prior days had been particularly difficult, with long mileage (back-to-back 70 mile days) and relentless hills. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(See 'Kentucky Fried Cyclist', this post picks up immediately after that.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then we had a rest day in Berea, KY and it was like someone pushed a reset button. I just couldn't stop thinking that as I was riding, it was as if the rest day really was some sort of reset, and things just changed after that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The rest day was very nice, and laid back. Different from the last two rest days, where we were hustling and bustling around. Because the camp ground was so far outside of town, we mostly just hung around. I cleaned and lubed my bike chain, did laundry, slept in, ate well... it was just a good day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When I got back on the road Friday, I was fresh and ready to go. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Right off the bat the day was nicer; at least 10 degrees cooler than it had been (thanks to the massive thunderstorms that rolled through), and the humidity was much lower. The day started at about 65 deg, and topped out at maybe 70. Clear skies with a few clouds to occasionally keep the sun off. Almost everything about the day was better in every way. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The relentless soul crushing hills from the last few days had given way to gentle rollers that were not only easier, but actually kind of pleasant. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The scenery had changed from coarse rocky hills to lush rolling greens. Even the roads were better, with terrific back country routes, great views and almost no cars whatsoever. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then the mileage was much lower as well, 50 miles on Friday and only 45 on Saturday. Heck, at this point 45 miles is like having a day off! I got into camp so early on Saturday that I barely knew what to do with all the free time!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Friday's ride was just plain gorgeous. This is the kind of day where I get on the bike, pedal, and when I look around I am just happy to be here doing this, and happy to be alive. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There were lush fields that were so green it seemed unnatural, I took my sunglasses off to make sure they weren't affecting the coloration, and the green still seemed to glow. The fields stretched off to the horizon where they were finally broken by rolling hills, rich forest, or gray-blue mountains far off in the distance. The deep, rich blue of the sky was mesmerizing in it's beauty. The cloud formations constantly changing from thin whisps to rich textured layers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Occationally a passing airplane would fly over, it's contrails scratched across the sky while the passengers jet from some big city to some other big city. Whatever hustle and bustle the they were going to, the concerns of 'regular life' seemed far away and unimportant</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">These were the days I dreamed of. Repeatedly I thought to myself how fortunate I was to have all this, to be able to experience all this. To be outside on such a gorgeous day, riding my bike and feeling my heart beat strongly in my chest as I breath in clean air tinted with honeysuckle. Nowhere important to be, and no time I needed to be there. The view was endlessly breathtaking, and changed with every pass I climbed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The beauty and fortune of what I was doing threatened to overwhelm me, until I breathed deeply and just let it flow through me. To breathe it in, feel it deeply in my being, and then breathe it out. To repeat again and again throughout the whole day. To be alive, and to be living, fully and in the moment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And when we finally arrived at Harrodsburg, KY for the night, I thought the day was done, but there were still moments to be had. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On the small Main Street there was an old 'Pharmacy' and soda jerk shop. Now converted entirely into a cafe, but with most of the original decor intact or restored. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After dinner we went there and took over the back deck. I had a delicious brownie sundae. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There are two musicians in our group, and often they will treat us to some music at the end of the day. On this day, the owner of the cafe lent his guitar to one of our gang, and the other with his ukelele, played for us while everyone enjoyed their dessert and drinks. Without a care in the world. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The music flowed through me, and once again I felt my heart swell with the feeling of how fortunate I am to be able to enjoy these moments. I sat there, and was just simply, thoroughly, happy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then on Saturday I got to do this all over again. The weather was spot on perfect for riding, the roads were ideal, as if out of a bicycling brochure. The view was unmatched, all the beauty that Kentucky had to offer. We finished the day in Bardstown, KY, and I went into the town square. The town was adorable, with an old country feel, but lots of people and vibrant shops and restaurants. I stopped and had lunch at a place similar to the night before, I had a burger and a milkshake that topped off the day wonderfully. And then later, for dinner, the group took advantage of BBQ grills at the campsite to grill up chicken, steak, grilled asparagus and more. A real treat that didn't go unnoticed. The campground itself was beautiful, and we set up our tents in a terrific and spacious grove of trees. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I slept wonderfully that night, and didn't dream of the perfect ride, I just had two days of it for real. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Thank you for reading!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think, or just say hi and let me know you've stopped by.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Also, please sign the guest book, and if I don't actually know you, please let me know how you heard about this blog!</span><br />
<a href="http://4300miles.blogspot.com/2014/05/guest-book.html" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="color: black;">http://4300miles.blogspot.com/2014/05/guest-book.html</span></a><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Cheers,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Aaron</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-63887491549477536222014-05-23T16:24:00.000-07:002014-05-23T16:24:57.270-07:00Kentucky Fried Cyclist<div>
Kentucky Fried Cyclist</div>
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After three days in Kentucky, I was fried. </div>
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Used up and burnt out. </div>
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Put a fork in me, I'm done. </div>
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It seemed like it took forever to cross out of Virginia, but we finally entered Kentucky after a beautiful and restful night in a hotel at Breaks Interstate Park.</div>
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State lines are somewhat arbitrary assignments on a map, sometimes established by some river or notable geographic feature. The border between VA and KY was not this. So I had no real expectation that anything significant was going to change just because the license plates were different. </div>
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That was not an accurate assumption.</div>
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Virginia had been hilly. We crossed the Blue Ridge Mountain section of the Appalachians, and that was tough. There had been consistent rolling hills and some real challenges. And yet, somehow Kentucky seems worse. The hills in KY are steeper, the terrain seems more... course. </div>
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The ride into Breaks Interstate Park on Sunday was relatively easy. It was about 30 miles, and although the hills were challenging, they weren't back breaking. We got in early due to the short day and took full advantage of having hotel rooms and the spectacular view out the back patio. I sat on the patio, ate an orange, and just looked out at the view and tried to take it all in, let it flow through me. </div>
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We needed a short riding day because the following day was a beast; 70 miles with multiple significant climbs. So we relaxed, had a good dinner and went to sleep in huge, infinitely comfy beds and slept like the dead. </div>
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The hotel restaurant was closed Monday morning, so we got on the bikes early and headed out to find breakfast. </div>
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The day started off fairly relaxed. We all knew we had a long, hard day ahead, but there was no urgency in the air. We made our way to some food, and grouped up and rode together for a while. </div>
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The Friday before (the rainy day in 'The Road to Damascus') we had had a very long climb up a not-too-steep hill that took over an hour of just spinning our gears to get up. At the end of the day, we all congratulated ourselves for being noticeably stronger since the start of the trip, in order to get up that hill with relative ease. </div>
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Well, we celebrated too soon. Yeah, we're stronger, but the hills are literally rising to the challenge. </div>
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As the day drew on, the back country roads and long uphills started to wear on us. We spent an hour, at least, spinning up this one steep climb. I stopped once or twice to give my legs and my heart a rest and take in some fluids. The group was fairly spread out at this point. </div>
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Then we bombed down the other side and rolled out a long road that ended at a beautiful little lunch spot that served ice cream and an assortment of foods. They didn't seem open when we first rolled up at 12:05, but then as a few of us gave up on the place and rolled out, they opened a window and started taking orders. Most of us got some ice cream, I got a 'slaw burger', which is pretty much what it sounds like. </div>
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We took our time at lunch, and an hour later got back in the saddle. At 1pm, we were less than halfway to the campground for the night. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-yuuP89tIo48Al5eeMXimR3gPrFqHp3Pq6GGTuY0EniQmSMVcZLG3eHJSb00eog8WUqzYq2hYuLQFbTRZMxUFUUPyAXN4zgVhdGqxiwctbTGZV4_Dk0fb2dI6Rrsn9S4T0l6RXGRGlG__/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-yuuP89tIo48Al5eeMXimR3gPrFqHp3Pq6GGTuY0EniQmSMVcZLG3eHJSb00eog8WUqzYq2hYuLQFbTRZMxUFUUPyAXN4zgVhdGqxiwctbTGZV4_Dk0fb2dI6Rrsn9S4T0l6RXGRGlG__/s1600/image.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking a moment to appreciate the wildflowers</td></tr>
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The rest of the day blurred together. There were more brutal climbs, and more miles under my wheels. The day ticked away, and still I pedaled. </div>
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The group got fairly separated by this time, and even the 2 other people I had been riding with had ditched me and gone ahead. I rolled into the little town of Hindman by myself around 8pm, a full 12 hours after I left in the morning (aprox 9-10 hours in the saddle). We were staying at a cyclist hostel in a guy's back yard. And it turned out this place was at the top of the steepest damn hill that has ever existed. I could barely push my bike up this hill on a good day, which was made all the more difficult by the day's long ride. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It may not look steep, but I'm holding the camera level!</td></tr>
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Finally at the top, exhausted, frustrated and hungry, the gracious host greeted me with a flurry of questions; what's my name, who am I with, and a few others that I just ignored. I asked for a few minutes to catch my breath and compose myself, and after being briefly taken aback, he gave me my space. </div>
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There was cold pizza and cold water waiting for me there. I scarfed down several slices and started to feel vaguely human again. I set up my tent in the yard, and finally went into the house to take a shower. </div>
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I slept well that night, and David, the host, had put out a fantastic breakfast spread for us in the morning.</div>
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Tuesday was another brutal day. Rumor was that it was less harsh and slightly shorter than the day before, but as rumors often tend to be, it was untrue. It was another 70 mile day, with nearly 7 peaks to climb. These were steep uphills with downhills so sharp that I had to use my brakes to descend (as opposed to just running them out and enjoying the ride.) We counted the peaks as we rode, but that only reminded us how many more we had to go. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmwWPwj5l6cIv_8ZTMFVZH4j2nydU-OcbgRREAC3IXZppxvWvGQj5ufGTNR0-FUW2FTlo2gNZxElOh-YkhJZG5T7xIYmjR2X9f1Mh_wtcfTtJaLgblJBwbRVCwhvq_t40HQ7ss2gHXDY2q/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmwWPwj5l6cIv_8ZTMFVZH4j2nydU-OcbgRREAC3IXZppxvWvGQj5ufGTNR0-FUW2FTlo2gNZxElOh-YkhJZG5T7xIYmjR2X9f1Mh_wtcfTtJaLgblJBwbRVCwhvq_t40HQ7ss2gHXDY2q/s1600/image.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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The day was much the same as the one prior, brutal, long and difficult. The weather was slightly more accommodating, with a lower temp, some cloud cover and more of a breeze. Because we didn't ride as a group, we took it at a better pace and didn't stop as often. I managed to make it to camp just before 6p, which was a nice change. I wasn't as exhausted, and was in good spirits despite the fatigue, but the day was definitely difficult. </div>
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We ate at a diner that night, and stayed in a grassy field behind a church. The church had set up a shower stall for cyclists that consisted of a shower-head attached to a hose. It was bone chillingly cold, but still nice to actually have a shower and our own little space in a pretty, peaceful fiel</div>
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Despite the 2 hard days in a row, I was feeling pretty good, upbeat and happy to have completed them. It wasn't easy, but at no point did I ever think I couldn't do it. Still, my body told me that it was well used and certainly tired. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZTBqSVjo88qG6hCfwL4HdCrzP23uaUdB4w26EymyGbvikM-OVGhF1qxORkxvYbuAAlRlxeiXR9-yOhZvvPPdvSYIP-G4v0iI8Pr8yEiLKYM2lF8Q09Op6ksNCJswH09ueDCgLHfz7XZk/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZTBqSVjo88qG6hCfwL4HdCrzP23uaUdB4w26EymyGbvikM-OVGhF1qxORkxvYbuAAlRlxeiXR9-yOhZvvPPdvSYIP-G4v0iI8Pr8yEiLKYM2lF8Q09Op6ksNCJswH09ueDCgLHfz7XZk/s1600/image.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise over our campground</td></tr>
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Breakfast the next day was at the same diner, and the staff there treated us very well. It was odd though, to be in a restaurant that allowed smoking inside. I'm pretty sure I haven't smelled a cigarette in 3 weeks. </div>
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Wednesday was an easy day compared to the two before. only 52 miles, and without the hellacious climbs of the last few days. </div>
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Yet, even with an easy day, the long mileage was starting to wear on me. There were small hills where I had to get off my bike and push it up. It was hard to tell if these were just very steep hills, or if my legs simple weren't up to the task anymore. (I think it was a mixture.) It was slightly reassuring to see others also pushing their bikes up the hills. Maybe it was a necessity, or maybe it was contagious, like a yawn. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRk7rhdXGXkNotdGHj0M5ANfIeXYVmA4gnuHSbDYxJKoXmR776BMIT-3eaTuWncsAMsaXobw5kvxK8zEJy3chJY3r17B2X5t8pzswABuhQ698_QxXa9ZK0-G9oW4SIolKv4BHr7K3Pxd4Y/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRk7rhdXGXkNotdGHj0M5ANfIeXYVmA4gnuHSbDYxJKoXmR776BMIT-3eaTuWncsAMsaXobw5kvxK8zEJy3chJY3r17B2X5t8pzswABuhQ698_QxXa9ZK0-G9oW4SIolKv4BHr7K3Pxd4Y/s1600/image.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New definition of 'going green.'</td></tr>
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52 miles should have felt like a reprieve, but it was not. I could feel that I was noticeably weaker, and without shame about it either. The body can only do so much. It wasn't only muscle fatigue, but also that I had used up all the glycogen in my muscles and pretty much every available calorie in my body. The prior 2 days I'd burned somewhere in the order of 7-8000 calories each, and didn't take in anywhere near that </div>
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By the end of the day, I was riding alone, tired and ready to be done. And even so, I did a mental assessment and decided that I was still glad to be doing this trip and still enjoyed being on the bike. </div>
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I got to camp relatively early, compared to the last 2 days, and just took a little while to sit and recover. There were good showers, a nice field to set up camp and dinner was at 6. We made breakfast burritos for dinner, I ate two! (about a half-dozen eggs total.) And I finally felt satiated, at least for a little while. </div>
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We had finally earned a rest day, much needed. We camped at an RV park in Berea, KY, on the outskirts of town. We did some laundry and relaxed. The hardest days behind us. </div>
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Around 10p, massive thunderstorms rolled in. I ran for my tent and got in just before the deluge came down, and then weathered the storm as my tent shook and the wind threatened to topple my humble abode. I'd never been in a tent in a storm like that and wasn't sure if it would hold up! It did, and I slept well. </div>
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The next morning another round of storms rolled through and I was woken up to my tent being blown at a 45 deg angle and the wind howled viciously. Then, around 8 am the storm broke and I poked my head out of my tent to find a beautiful day with clear blue skies. </div>
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We took the day to relax, did some bike maintenance, resupplied some necessities from a nearby walmart, and just chilled and put the last few days behind us. This was a great day off, and maybe even more appreciated for the extreme effort it took to get here. </div>
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And despite the hard days prior, I was in a good mood, feeling energetic and ready to conquer the world... as long as there are no more hills involved. </div>
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Thank you for reading!<br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think, or just say hi and let me know you've stopped by.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Also, please sign the guest book, and if I don't actually know you, please let me know how you heard about this blog!</span><br />
<a href="http://4300miles.blogspot.com/2014/05/guest-book.html" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="color: black;">http://4300miles.blogspot.com/2014/05/guest-book.html</span></a><br />
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Cheers,<br />
Aaron<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-87731335426098442142014-05-22T07:13:00.000-07:002014-05-22T07:17:21.743-07:00Two Week Touchpoint<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I wanted to write this post at the actual two week point on Sunday, but have been so busy or so tired, it wasn't until now that didn't get to it until now that I've had the opportunity to type up all my thoughts. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Right up front, this trip is a blast. I'm having a great time and am still very glad I'm doing this. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here are some thoughts on the trip so far;</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For starters, I thought I had an idea of how hard this was going to be. Sure, that one day climbing the Blue Mountains I blogged about being the hardest day ever. It almost seems naive in retrospect (and that's only a week and a half ago!) I definitely jumped the gun on that 'most difficult thing ever' because much to my surprise, it kept getting harder! And it was hard in different ways. Sometimes the heat, surprisingly, sometimes the cold, the hills, the relentlessness of the trip, and more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In the past, for triathlons and marathons that I've done, I always feel that I haven't trained enough. Usually I'm fine, and I'm just paranoid, although a couple times it was actually true. For this trip, I thought I was training adequately, and now it feels like it was completely insufficient!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For one thing, I needed to do a lot more hills, with the bike fully loaded. For another thing, I didn't know what 'fully loaded' really was. Oh boy do I have a lot of crap! Plus there's communal gear I have to carry. Every day as I'm dragging-ass up another hill, I do a mental inventory of all my stuff and wonder what I could mail home or even just throw away, and I feel like I need it all! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here's a number of things I assumed or thought I knew that I was off-base about:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For some reason I had it in my head that the trip started off a little easy and eased into the hard stuff. I was SO wrong about that! Maybe the first day or two was 'easy', but it got really hard, really quickly. And as I wrote in 'Help, I'm Alive!', one week in I was doing the hardest thing of my life! From there, the term 'hardest ride ever' was getting redefined every day! To the point that I'll try not to say it anymore, because I know it's just going to be made moot or lose it's significance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Coming into the trip, I thought that electricity and showers would be at a premium. To the extent that I bought a solar panel to keep my phone charged, and left a few electronics at home because I didn't expect to be able to keep them powered. But so far we've had power just about every night. Tonight is maybe the least yet, as there's no outlet near our camp. But even so, I'm doing laundry and just plugged in at the laundry room (while I sit and type this!) Also, the solar panel is for crap. It takes all day to charge the battery, then that battery only gives me about 70% of a charge on my phone. It's also one of the heavier pieces of gear I'm carrying. I'm seriously considering sending it home, but a fellow rider tells me that power might be more scarce in the campgrounds out west. I'm going to hold on to it for now. (I've already carried it over the Appalachians, and that was the hard part.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Showers was the other thing I thought would be scarce, but is not. Online I bought this pack of wipes called 'paper shower', and haven't even opened the package! So far I've had a shower every night of the trip. Granted, Wednesday night's shower was an experience, as there was no hot water (it was absolutely ice cold!), but it was a shower! Again, I'm holding onto the wipes just in case. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On that note, we've also had regular access to laundry. Sometimes at laundromats in towns where we stay, sometimes at the campgrounds. One thing that didn't occur to me is that because I only have 3 sets of clothes, I have to do laundry like every other day so I can have clean clothes! On the up side though, I haven't yet had to re-wear a dirty set of clothes. Although my kick-around clothes (stuff I wear off the bike) I do often wear multiple times. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One thing I had a tiny bit of concern about was how well I'd sleep and how I'd get used to sleeping in my tent, on the ground pad every night. To prepare for this, I had blown up my ground pad and slept in my sleeping bag in my bedroom at home. Every time I tried this, I couldn't make it a whole night before giving up and crawling into my real bed. The ground pad was too thin, the sleeping bad too constricting, etc. I was worried about this, but hoped I'd get used to it quickly. It took about 5 nights, and now it feels perfectly fine. I can sleep comfortably thought the night and feel rested. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The tent is also starting to feel like home. I have my set-up down pat, and a place for everything in the tent so that it's not cluttered and I know where everything is. It actually feels kind of comfortable, and is a nice little retreat of my own space after a hard day of riding. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Also in preparation for this trip, I downloaded a bunch of e-books to my ipad, hoping and expecting to get through a bunch of classics that I've been meaning to read. But so far, I haven't even opened the Kindle app once. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm totally surprised by just how busy I am every day. For one thing, the riding takes a lot longer than I anticipated. Between the long mileage, the difficult hills, and the frequency that we stop to regroup or rest, the riding takes 2-3 hours longer than I thought it would. Then, once we're at camp we have to cook dinner, set up camp, and we do something called a 'map meeting' to review the route for the next day. Toss in a little socializing (usually involving beer), maybe do laundry, and before I know it, it's 10 o'clock and I'm ready to drop like a stone! I don't have nearly as much free time as I thought! And certainly not as much time as I want to write and update the blog! (Sorry)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The camping conditions are also something I didn't fully understand or realize what we would be doing. In two weeks, we've stayed a whole variety of differently places. The biggest surprise for me are the churches. Along the route, a number of churches have opened their doors to us as cyclist hostels. What that means varies from church to church, but mostly they let us stay there, and we can put our sleeping bags on the floor. Most of the time the church also has a shower, and a real kitchen. So we can clean up and prepare a nice meal. The other night we stayed at a church cyclist hostel that was just the lawn behind a church, and they'd set up a shower stall attached to a hose (that was the really cold one!) And one night we stayed at a church summer camp on their camp grounds. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Other places we've stayed include established camp grounds like KOA, where there are mostly RVs, and a little space for tents. These are nice as they have real bathrooms, showers and laundry. Some of these though have been little campsites in small towns, and are scaled down accordingly. One campground we stayed at we were originally going to camp in the grass, but the manager let us stay in the banquet/restaurant hall (that had long ago closed). This was a really nice reprieve as it was raining and extremely cold that night (it was on a layover day, so we stayed there 2 nights.) It was just fun and neat to stay someplace so unique and off-the-wall like that. It was simultaneously fancy, and run down. It felt a little like the Overlook Hotel from The Shining. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One night we stayed in a very nice hotel room with the most spectacular view, and another night we stayed in a grass field in a county park. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was also caught off guard by the weather extremes. I knew it was going to be warm, but I thought it would come on gradually and be really hot in June and July. I wasn't expecting 98 degree heat in early May. Then, in the span of just 7 days, it was in the 50s during the day and down to nearly freezing at night. I hadn't packed adequately for the cold, and did have one very chilly night and a very cold ride the next day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The group that I'm riding with is pretty great. There's a nice mix of personalities, but for the most part people are pretty chill. One the road the last few days, we've been playing leapfrog with a few other riders also doing the TransAm route, and we've gotten to talk to other people on the same trek. One couple we spent a few days with made me appreciate my group even more. The guy was a very big complainer. 'These hills are hard!' 'I bonked the other day!' 'I'm a cancer survivor, so I'm weaker than most.' </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Oy vey. It made me glad that we don't have any complainers in our group, just a whole bunch of can-do, go-get-em attitudes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One thing I decided early on was that I was not going to complain. Everyone in my group is doing the same difficult thing, and nobody wants to hear that *I* had a hard time that day. Particularly since I'm one of the younger people in my group!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A few other things I was expecting or was worried about was the physical toll all this riding would take. I am absolutely shocked that my saddle does not hurt at all, and has never hurt. My tush is just fine, thank you very much. Not a saddle sore, or hotspot, or even pain from sitting all day! If you had asked me what the #1 issue I was worried about, it would have been sitting on the bike seat day after day. So I am all smiles that that is a non-issue!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was also expecting some sort of overuse soreness or aggravation, most likely in my neck or my shoulders, perhaps my lower back or even my hips from all the time on the bike. But nope, none of that either! My left knee hurt on day 3 or so, and I was a little worried, but the next day it was fine and hasn't bothered me since. I'm also surprised that my shoes are absolutely perfect. My feet don't hurt, they don't get too warm during hot days, I don't have any hot-spots that are rubbing or causing blisters. They're even pretty good to walk in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And even my legs are mostly ok. They're achy every day, and maybe more sore some days than others, but they don't hurt. I haven't gotten major leg cramps or soreness that I was expecting. I think it's still kind of early, so these things could still pop up, but I feel that if its all ok after two and a half weeks, it's probably good for the long haul. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am being very careful to pay attention to how I feel, making sure I drink enough water and take in enough electrolytes. I don't push beyond my limits to keep up with other riders or try to get to camp early. And I think this is all paying off. I'm in much better shape at this point all around than I was expecting, and I know I'm very fortunate that I don't have major aches, pains or issues. Other people in the group are complaining about their saddles, their shoes, some joint pain and other little things. I don't know if I just nailed the preparation, got really lucky, or maybe a little bit of both. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lastly, after two and a half weeks I'm still enjoying the trip. It is hard, damn hard. And maybe while I'm trudging up yet another hill I'm not exactly elated at the prospect, but I don't dread getting on the bike and pedaling each morning. I'm really enjoying just being outside, riding my bike, taking in the scenery and getting lots of exercise and sunshine. I'm also very happy and surprised to realize that I haven't gotten tired/jaded of the view. I look up and everywhere there are beautiful vistas. Rolling hills, mountains, forests. Even the little towns and cities we ride through are interesting in how different they are from what I'm used to, and different from each other. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The trip is only just getting started, and it really is hard. People reading this are saying 'duh, of course its hard!' And I had a good expectation of what I thought it was going to be, but the difficulty has far exceeded my expectations. And yet, I'm also happy to find out that I can rise the challenge, conquer it, and still look forward to the days to come. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here's to more of those days, those challenges, and rising to meet them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Thanks for reading.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think, or just say hi and let me know you've stopped by.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Also, please sign the guest book, and if I don't actually know you, please let me know how you heard about this blog!</span><br />
<a href="http://4300miles.blogspot.com/2014/05/guest-book.html"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">http://4300miles.blogspot.com/2014/05/guest-book.html</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">These are some of the pictures I've taken over the last couple weeks that I like, or that stood out for me. </span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-53011545951884355482014-05-19T20:06:00.002-07:002014-05-19T20:06:22.663-07:00The road to DamascusMay 15 & 16, trip days 12 & 13.<br />
(Note: pictures are all at the end of the blog post. It was raining a lot, so I didn't take many.)<br />
<br />
<br />
Don't you have the sense to come in out of the rain?<br />
<br />
Apparently not.<br />
<br />
I knew it was going to rain on this trip and that I would have to ride in it. I mean, obviously, we're riding for 93 days, so there will be days in the rain. The surprise was that it took so long before it happened. Then again, maybe all the rain was saved up for this one day.<br />
<br />
We knew it was going to be raining that day. The night before we were staring at the weather apps on our phones (modern 'roughing it.) The forecast was calling for 3-4 inches of rain over the course of the day. That's quite a lot. <br />
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The night before, we were sleeping in a beautiful Presbyterian church, and the rain came down so hard outside it woke me up, more than once. And when I got up in the morning it was still coming down in buckets. But, by the time we all got our stuff together, loaded our bikes and were ready to head out the door, it had tapered off to a persistently annoying drizzle.<br />
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One of the interesting things about this trip and the people in the group are how we all prepared for various different situations. We have different tents, sleeping bags, more or less stuff, etc. And the rain gear was a good example. Some people were decked out practically in head to toe condoms. With $200 jackets, rain pants, helmet condoms that made them look like brightly colored mushrooms (or Princess Peach from Super Mario), and even waterproof shoe covers.<br />
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I had taken the minimalist approach. I had a jacket.<br />
And the jacket, it did nothing!<br />
<br />
Ok, that's not true, it was better than not having a jacket, but it was soaked through inside of an hour.<br />
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And it rained all day. For one thing, it was a welcome reprieve from the heat of the last several days. And although it was chilly out, it wasn't outright cold. I rode in my regular bike close, plus this not-as-waterproof-as-advertised jacket.<br />
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Another element to the day was that my stomach was very queasy that morning. No food appealed to me, and I just felt ill. So I wasn't particularly looking forward to riding in the rain.<br />
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After about an hour though, it turned out to be mostly a non-issue. It drizzled, it was suitably annoying. Occasionally it picked up to more than a drizzle, occasionally it stopped altogether.<br />
I was soaked through pretty well. I got chilly here and there, mostly when we stopped for too long. But otherwise, once you get used to being out in the rain, it's really not a big deal. Once you're totally wet, you can't get any wetter, it is what it is. And like I said, I knew this was going to happen, so just deal with it. Pedal on, like I'd been doing.<br />
Was it worse than the horrible heat or the steep hills? Not really worse, not better either, just different. A little miserable, but also a little interesting because it was different. And, like I said, it was a reprieve from the intense heat of the week.<br />
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Somewhere around mile 15 of another long day we came up on another hill to climb. This one was something like 6 or 7 miles uphill. It was a relatively gentle grade, maybe 6 or 8%. Not nearly as bad as climbing the blue ridge mountains, but more consistent. It just went up and up and up. I put the bike into a low gear and just spun*.<br />
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*Spinning is a term for pedaling in a very low gear. It's "easy" because your legs spin at high RPMs while you go at a paltry 6 mph. Sometimes slower if it's really steep.<br />
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Having the consistent uphill was an interesting twist on the uphills, and actually kinda nice. I could just stay in one gear and go. It didn't seem too hard, and although I wasn't making good time, I wasn't suffering either. It felt like maybe 2 hours, and very could have been, because there were parts where I couldn't have been going more than 4 mph.<br />
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The rain persisted on and off, and at this point I barely even noticed when it was or wasn't raining. The group I was riding with had spread out pretty far at this point because of the long uphill, and there was no obvious place to stop for a rest or to regroup, so we all just kept going. I didn't see anyone for a while, and it was very solitary. That was ok. Just me in my own head for hours at a time. It's fun in here. Sometimes.<br />
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Despite the rain, it was a surprisingly clear day. I made sure to look up and take in the scenery around me. The hazy light and rain made things seem greener. Since we were going through a mountainous region, there were lots of streams and creeks all along the route, and they were all swollen with the prior evening's downpour. They were interesting to look at, with mini-rapids rushing over tiny boulders. The constant rush of the water was the only music I had all day. (And it really made me have to pee, often.)<br />
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After we finished climbing forever, there were some really fun downhills. A few of them were pretty long, and gentle enough of a slope that I could run them out without worrying about getting up too much speed.<br />
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At the bottom of one downhill, a couple people in front of me had stopped at an abandoned shop to sit and eat our packed lunch. A few of us stood under an old awning, wanting to get out of the rain for the short time that we could.<br />
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I started to get cold pretty quickly and went on ahead even though other riders were still hanging out.<br />
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There was still a lot more ups and downs to go, but these were more interspersed, although they did start to blend together after a while. I got to ride with 2 riders that I haven't spent much time with, because they often ride alone. It was nice getting to talk to them and spend a little time with other people in the group. They were very friendly and welcoming.<br />
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Now we come to the part of the ride that was the talk of the day (and the next few days, too.) In the rolling hills, at the valley between two hills, I was riding with a woman from the group who was a little ahead of me. A dog had popped out from a hidden residence along this long stretch of hilly country road.<br />
Dogs have come out and run up along side us several times already on this trip, and while we were always cautious, nothing happened. That streak ended here. The dog was chasing my fellow rider, but when I came up on them at a faster pace he abandoned his current prey and chased me. Well, I stood up out of the saddle and have never pushed harder up a hill! I thought I passed the dog by, when suddenly my bike slowed down, as if I'd just gained 50 lbs! The dog had bitten into my pannier and wasn't letting go! After a moment that seemed a lot longer than it was, he let go. Then he went after the other rider, and grabber her saddle bag too! He let go after a moment, and we rode on. Both very shaken and letting the adrenaline come down. I, at least, counted myself lucky that A) he bit our saddle bags and not our legs, and B) he didn't pull me over and cause a crash!<br />
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Then we realized that there were 8 other riders still behind us! And I had no cell reception to warn them.<br />
<br />
At dinner, and back at camp that night the dog was all the talk. He had chased everyone in the group, and had gotten 7 out of 11 of us. (A few others didn't see him.)<br />
In fact, he had actually torn my pannier! A tooth puncture hole, plus a one inch gash. He'd managed to tear holes in 5 other peoples' bags as well, and even almost took one of the riders down! (we met up with a pair of other riders doing the TransAm, and they reported running into the dog as well, and also had torn panniers to show for it.)<br />
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We talked at length about how to handle dogs like that, and many people in the group bought 'Halt' anti-dog spray in town the next day. Word around the bike community is that there are a lot more dogs in Kentucky, so we're all a little on edge.<br />
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But, meanwhile, back to the ride. It didn't end there!<br />
<br />
After the dog attack, we rode on with more rolling hills. Then, finally, there was one long run out, the last gasp of the mountain as we rode into the town of Damascus. It was about halfway down this hill that the sky opened up and just dumped on us. It was as hard a rain as I've ever been in. And I was barreling down the side of a mountain at 20+ mph in this monsoon! I was mostly ok though, I never felt unsafe and visibility wasn't really affected, but I was getting pretty cold.<br />
Towards the end of the run-out I saw the two riders I'd been with huddled under an awning of an abandoned building. I joined them there, and finally donned my rain pants (a little late, but at this point they were more for warmth.)<br />
We rode the last 2 miles into town.<br />
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Once there, they rode on to camp, and I sat down in a little BBQ place to get out of the rain, confident that the other riders behind me would spot my bike and come join me. Sure enough, they did, and after a little while we had a group of 8 or so drinking beers, eating BBQ and talking about the killer dog!<br />
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The rain did finally let up, and we rode 2 miles to camp.<br />
Originally we were supposed to set up our tents there, but the camp manager gave us some shelter and let us stay in an unused restaurant dining room. It was very fancy with nice floors, chandeliers and smelled of old wood. It was very interesting, and just a neat place to hang up our helmets for 2 nights.<br />
Because the next day was a Layover day, we had a little more time here.<br />
<br />
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The Layover day.<br />
<br />
Friday we had a day off from riding, and got to explore the little town of Damascus, Va. It's a town of maybe 400 people. But on this particular weekend there was something called 'Trail Days'. The Appalachian Trail runs right through this town, so they do a weekend event every year where hikers plan to arrive and hang out. Like 5000 through-hikers descending on this little town. I got to meet a lot of them and hear about their adventure. They're a different sort, but share the same sense of epic adventure, and they were just as interested in my journey as I was in theirs.<br />
For Trail Days, the town gets a lot of hiking/camping companies to come out and set up booths with their wares. I walked around and saw a lot of neat stuff. Apparently hammocks are really big this year. There was a whole hammock district.<br />
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This was a nice layover day, and much more low-key than the last one in Charlottesville. I got to rest, do laundry, update my blog, and meet interesting people. The only negative is that there wasn't a good meal to be had in Damascus. Even the pancakes in the morning were disappointing. Ah well, not everything can be perfect.<br />
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It was at least (mostly) dry on that Friday, and it was very interesting to see a different kind of extreme adventurer. But I will tell you this now, I have no intention of hiking the AT. Nothing about that appealed to me. But, I still mean to hike the Inca trail up to Maccu Pichu some day. Then again, one adventure at a time, so I'll focus on finishing this trip.<br />
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Thanks for reading.<br />
<br />
Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think, or just say hi and let me know you've stopped by.<br />
Also, please sign the guest book, and if I don't actually know you, please let me know how you heard about this blog!<br />
<a href="http://4300miles.blogspot.com/2014/05/guest-book.html">http://4300miles.blogspot.com/2014/05/guest-book.html</a><br />
<br />
Cheers,<br />
Aaron<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-20356150513241038132014-05-18T13:21:00.000-07:002014-05-18T13:21:43.709-07:00The lows and the highs<div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Tuesday and Wednesday, May 13 & 14. Trip days 10 & 11. </span></div>
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I knew this trip would be hard, and I thought I knew just how hard. But I was sorely mistaken. </div>
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It was hot on Tuesday. </div>
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Like, hotter'n Satan's scrotum, and just about as sweaty.</div>
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Tuesday was a miserable day. It was hard, for sure, but 'hard' isn't the right word, miserable is the right word. It was 96°, cloudless, no breeze whatsoever, and just really long. </div>
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It was a hilly day, which is more or less normal at this point, but this felt worse. </div>
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Some days we've been on nice tree covered roads, but not that day. These were long, wide open, rolling back-country roads full of nothing but farms and closed churches. </div>
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The heat and humidity were oppressive, the sun beating down on our backs, the heat radiating up from the asphalt, and not a single leaf was swaying in the stagnant air. </div>
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The heat was probably the biggest issue, but it wasn't the only one. This ride day was hard in general with a lot of climbing and long mileage for the day. And adding to the mix, these barren back-country roads were completely devoid of any gas station, restaurant, or even a lowly water spigot. Then, the cherry on top was that my bike wasn't shifting gears cleanly because the rear deralleur was still out of whack and the leak in my rear tire had gotten worse, so that I had to pump it back up about every hour. </div>
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As the day wore on, the heat seemed to get worse. I was rationing my water because there wasn't anyplace in sight to fill up. Having trained all through the winter, I wasn't quite acclimated to the hot weather yet, and all these other things just combined into a very tough day. </div>
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At one point, a local gave us a 'tip' that there was a convenience store "just a mile or so up the road." So in search of gatorade and some food, we set off. This "just a mile or so" turned out to be more like 2+ miles, up a big-ass hill (and down the other side, so we had to climb it twice!)</div>
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Once there, I had a horribly disappointing gas station hot dog (as if there's any other kind.) And we dragged our asses back up the hill and back onto the route. It was a terrible 4 mile 'inconvenience store', as I coined it. </div>
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The day dragged on in much the same way for hours. I did try to look up and appreciate that at least the scenery was still beautiful.<br />
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I also realized that it could have been worse. </div>
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The roads could have been pitted and potholed. There could have been more traffic. It could have been a ride through downtown detroit instead of scenic western <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Virginia. I could have been chased by africanized killer honeybees. I could have had hemorrhoids. I could have had a Nicki Minaj song stuck in my head (yes, worse than hemorrhoids.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So, yeah, there are ways the day could have been worse.</span></div>
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To top it all off, there was a horribly steep and long climb to where we were sleeping that night, which was at a 'biker hostel' at a United Methodist Church in Churchville (yup), Virginia. The church didn't have a shower, so we rented a room at the motel across the street and all showered there. It was certainly nice of the church to allow bikers to stay there, but these were not the nicest accommodations. </div>
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At the end of the day I was just all used up. Exhausted and unhappy. I also managed to get a wicked sunburn on both my calves because I didn't think to reapply sunblock there. </div>
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Tuesday was not the highlight of the trip.</div>
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(The route sucked, but the view was still nice)</div>
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Wednesday:</div>
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We rode Rt 666 out of Churchville (yup, for real) and put the crappy tuesday in our rearviews. </div>
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The day started off better in many regards. For starters, it was a good 10° cooler, there was a breeze, and clouds in the sky to block the sun on occasion. </div>
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We rode through a very pretty park that was tree covered sparsely used (at 8 am on a weekday morning, at least.) </div>
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Practically everything that was bad about Tuesday was better on Wednesday. There was the weather, which was a nice reprieve, the hills were easier, there were infinitely more stores and places to stop along the way. We were never left wanting for gatorade, snacks or ice cream. Heck, even the church we stayed in Wednesday night was like the four seasons compared to the 'budget inn' of the night before.<br />
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But the true piece-de-resistance was the lunch stop. Just as the group decided it that it was time to stop somewhere to eat, we rolled right up to 'The Junction'. A restaurant and bike shop in the hills of western Virginia. </div>
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A biker's oasis. </div>
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The restaurant was beautiful, spacious and I even liked the artwork on the walls. Heck, the music was even great, a mix of 40's era jazz, swing and blues.</div>
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The bike shop was also fantastic, and everyone was SO friendly. As we rolled up a gentleman met us with a pitcher of ice water to refill our bottles.<br />
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A few people in my group were commenting that this was too good to be true. It was that fantastic. </div>
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Without even needing to ask, there was an unspoken consensus that we'd stop and have a real sit-down lunch. Something we hadn't done once yet on this trip (due to the lack of real restaurants along the route.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE4JpgOyVqhl_ZFngRFXIy05pcK9o32Qp02zjnh8QnV4V9X_hPpaTnGjEtyxpSrE79ApCaQF5bcGaoco07uJZrLhsgvHFX6ybofohclQXZU8WpVWvWyr6OWh_nbGgfPfGOujhmDYKCYO2K/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE4JpgOyVqhl_ZFngRFXIy05pcK9o32Qp02zjnh8QnV4V9X_hPpaTnGjEtyxpSrE79ApCaQF5bcGaoco07uJZrLhsgvHFX6ybofohclQXZU8WpVWvWyr6OWh_nbGgfPfGOujhmDYKCYO2K/s1600/image.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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After we ordered, I went over to the bike shop and met Thomas, the nicest bike shop employee I've ever met. I told him of the numerous issues I was having, and he graciously listened and talked with me about what I needed.</div>
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Then I left the bike with him to be fixed while I ate lunch!</div>
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All told; I got the rear tube and tire replaced, both deralluers adjusted, my kickstand adjusted, and I bought spare cables in case any break again. All for a price that beat Amazon (and that included labor!)</div>
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It might have helped that Thomas kept raving about my awesome Pink Floyd jersey, or that he thought the Captain America patch on the front of my sweet canvas bag was just all too cool. Really, he was just super friendly and helpful. </div>
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And this is the point where I realized that a switch had flipped. From the sheer misery of the prior day, to practical elation at something as simple as a great meal (with friends) and really helpful people.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z8Vfe6Lg4rU/U3ZtvSBrTHI/AAAAAAAAAT4/C3eoXZOP2Z8/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z8Vfe6Lg4rU/U3ZtvSBrTHI/AAAAAAAAAT4/C3eoXZOP2Z8/s1600/image.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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From there, the day just rolled on easy; my bike worked and shifted great, I wasn't nervous about my back wheel, and my belly was full. We even took a 'flat-cut' (my term, that the group really liked.) A 'flat-cut' is like a short-cut, but instead of being shorter its flatter. We got a tip from a real local-yokel that pointed us to an access road beside highway 81 that was practically flat and cut out loads of end-of-the-day hills we would have had to climb otherwise. </div>
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See, everything about Wednesday was better. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">It was hard to even remember how bad the very day before had been! And I realized that this was another lesson, the trip in a microcosm; that one bad day doesn't have to make for more bad days. People will say 'take it one day at a time', but I don't think that properly conveys the real meaning. </span></div>
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If you flip a coin, and it comes up tails - that flip has absolutely no bearing on the next flip. One bad day doesn't have to have any bearing on the next day. And sure, there might be several bad days in a row, but that doesn't mean it's all bad. And a truly awesome day can come out of the blue and just turn everything around. </div>
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I know there's going to be more miserable days to come, but there will also be many more wonderful days filled with great people, wonderful views, fun riding and new experiences, and I have to remember that a bad day can just as easily be followed by a fantastic one. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SS3E_F8NTms/U3ZuD9LFDRI/AAAAAAAAAUA/2tJjnGuVe2A/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SS3E_F8NTms/U3ZuD9LFDRI/AAAAAAAAAUA/2tJjnGuVe2A/s1600/image.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEpmYIgf-pvwjcnCq6xzM0lcKf3BIJic_hYUrT9HB4E1vrYLfhNU4SWsANXFZQUjW5byCTPn9nYo6pIEdsrcJDxaz4og-Z2ISu2tz_jbAKzIBOC1Jhkh8gMYFBIFwpHuAVvYhW5WF7RzN/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfEpmYIgf-pvwjcnCq6xzM0lcKf3BIJic_hYUrT9HB4E1vrYLfhNU4SWsANXFZQUjW5byCTPn9nYo6pIEdsrcJDxaz4og-Z2ISu2tz_jbAKzIBOC1Jhkh8gMYFBIFwpHuAVvYhW5WF7RzN/s1600/image.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QaFrRrioizU/U3ZtqjCib5I/AAAAAAAAATo/-IikYA0xu2s/s1600/image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QaFrRrioizU/U3ZtqjCib5I/AAAAAAAAATo/-IikYA0xu2s/s1600/image.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is one of my favorite pictures so far. </td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-43605229467834412782014-05-18T12:54:00.001-07:002014-05-18T12:54:15.477-07:00Guest BookHi! Please comment below to sign the guest book.<br />
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AaronAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-73728089487365797072014-05-16T12:10:00.001-07:002014-05-16T12:10:46.692-07:00Well, thar's yer problem!<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Monday, May 12, tour day 9. </span></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>God, I hate mondays. </div><div><br></div><div>The above statement is actually not true at all. For one thing, I actually look forward to Mondays in the summer because it's the Monday Night group ride with the Bike Club of Philly. I get to ride, get a great workout, and see a whole bunch of friends. Its great. </div><div>Besides that, the whole idea of 'living for the weekend' bugs me. People who are constantly looking forward to Friday are just glazing over 60% of their life. Trudging to work, putting in the hours, and waiting for the weekend. </div><div>Life is what you make of it. If you hate Mondays, then find something on Monday to look forward to. Live every day, not just Fri, Sat, Sun. </div><div><br></div><div>But I digress, this is about my Monday, not the rest of America's. And it did kinda suck. </div><div><br></div><div>The day started off pretty normal (for us cross-country bikers), wake up, pack up our stuff, eat breakfast, and get on the road. (BTW, I was responsible for breakfast, since I was the cook the night before, and I totally nailed it! We had glazed donuts, and yogurt with fresh strawberries and granola. Plus fresh watermelon and the staples of cereal and oatmeal. I rock. That is all.)</div><div><br></div><div>The ride on Monday was nothing too big. I think it was 50 or 55 miles over gently rolling hills.</div><div><br></div><div>The weather was particularly hot in central Virginia on Monday, and I was really dragging. I thought it was the heat, and was disappointed that I was feeling so weak as a result. Then, around mile 35 or so I realized that my seat was about a centimeter low! I had adjusted it the night before but not tightened it back in tight enough, and it had been slowly sinking all day! To those who ride regularly, you know that if your seat is even just a tiny bit low, it can throw off everything! My power transfer was poor, the seat hurt, my shoulders hurt, all around it was just 'off.' </div><div><br></div><div>Somewhere around mile 40, I was looking for a spot to stop and fix my seat, and as I was going up a hill I went to shift my front derailleur (the bike's transmission) and the derailleur cable broke! Just POP! and suddenly I couldn't shift the front gears anymore! When the cable breaks, the spring in the shifter pulls in to the lowest gear, so I was stuck in the 'granny gear'! I still had 10 gears on the back that I could run through, but ultimately it's like being stuck in first and second gear of a car!</div><div><br></div><div>However, as "luck" would have it, a lot of the remaining 15 miles was uphill, or at least on a gentle upwards grade, so I was in gears that I would probably be using anyway. I might have gone a little faster if I could, but... well I couldn't. </div><div><br></div><div>I was able to stop and fix my seat, though, and the improvement was immediately noticeable. </div><div><br></div><div>Then we stopped at a gas station for gatorade (or V8, which has been a hit with the group for its electrolyte content, although I haven't tried it yet.) And at this stop, my bike fell over and hit the rear derailleur in the fall, knocking it out of whack! It was a double whammy!</div><div><br></div><div>And lastly, my back tire has been slowly leaking air daily and I had to stop and pump it back up at one point. Frankly, the bike was not doing so well!!</div><div><br></div><div>Much to my surprise and delight, I did make it back to camp ok and with relatively little trouble, despite my shifting issues. </div><div><br></div><div>Once there, another rider in our group had a spare shifter cable. And the process of replacing the cable was fairly easy. I got it about 90% fixed, but needed help with the last little bit. (Next time I'll know, and probably even be able to fix it on road, no problem!)</div><div><br></div><div>We messed around with the rear derailleur a bit, trying to 'dial it in' (make it shift smoother) but didn't have any luck. With a little fiddling, it worked well enough, so I would just make due until I could get to a bike shop and have someone really look at it. </div><div><br></div><div>In all, the day was fine, but fraught with a variety of mechanical issues and a little bit of heat, but still... a bad day on the bike is better than a good day in the office! </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Oh, tacking one little story here on the end...</div><div>Earlier in the day I got a phone call. Since nobody ever calls me, this was a surprise (also, service was spotty and I didn't even realize the phone wasn't in airplane mode.) It was a Philly number I didn't recognize, but I answered it anyway. </div><div>It was a headhunter/job recruiter. He told me about this great opportunity he has that I'd be a great fit for! And after he talked at me for about a minute, he finally asks "is this a good time to talk?" To which I replied; "I am, at this very moment, sitting on my bike as I ride all the way across the country. So, to answer your question, yes I have time to talk, but I don't think you're going to want to wait for me to take this job."</div><div><br></div><div>To his credit, he barely even flinched, and quickly proceeded to ask me if I'll be looking for work when I'm done, when that'll be, and if I'm willing to work with him. I just said that I'm not worrying about that right now, and wished him good luck in filling the job he called about. He wished me luck on the ride, and that was the end of the call. </div><div>It was kinda fun to do a 'blow off' like that, for shock value, and I wonder if that's the best line he's gotten from anyone he's cold-called. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uclWKDKLYYLfoO-fb_imCRVMzSXgX5kNxZFkBzAzHgELxhFzyT5j8_fx0sJG0b0w3RE9EiKsee_MIQGX80HLhIiX34OdlVhCueacXdM01YCVjPVs-rhqn9iPRbT-sTPRXS9gVtMQl2uR/s640/blogger-image--1595933670.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uclWKDKLYYLfoO-fb_imCRVMzSXgX5kNxZFkBzAzHgELxhFzyT5j8_fx0sJG0b0w3RE9EiKsee_MIQGX80HLhIiX34OdlVhCueacXdM01YCVjPVs-rhqn9iPRbT-sTPRXS9gVtMQl2uR/s640/blogger-image--1595933670.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8uU6-Tm3DD7nJRHQOE59jZbsKypOs5txVH0JMZ8glRbmGMEuMFQuwVex0r9XF1kV19R_5fUchNEZOp4HQPd47RU8VKvDwTycRfR9Ct5EdzcDnc0ADQpqPzB86s6_WRzVUV5wN2E-0ufca/s640/blogger-image-1807741819.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8uU6-Tm3DD7nJRHQOE59jZbsKypOs5txVH0JMZ8glRbmGMEuMFQuwVex0r9XF1kV19R_5fUchNEZOp4HQPd47RU8VKvDwTycRfR9Ct5EdzcDnc0ADQpqPzB86s6_WRzVUV5wN2E-0ufca/s640/blogger-image-1807741819.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ccEue_5J0St3_q-V_J3HUxDkVLIxv8sQZah4TmfZ-xsN3lSOn3rahv-0yZqwoWCey5d0mv5jhGIgzZ4DavucvbqKL0Cc5iALaavevbnZevrprezWAJLNeCeW3TjewiIxFYnffqEWfRdX/s640/blogger-image--1972070210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ccEue_5J0St3_q-V_J3HUxDkVLIxv8sQZah4TmfZ-xsN3lSOn3rahv-0yZqwoWCey5d0mv5jhGIgzZ4DavucvbqKL0Cc5iALaavevbnZevrprezWAJLNeCeW3TjewiIxFYnffqEWfRdX/s640/blogger-image--1972070210.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5102702948275479922.post-56093472931427722612014-05-14T18:19:00.002-07:002014-05-14T18:19:49.164-07:00The Amazing Death-Defying Aaron!<div>
The Amazing Death-Defying Aaron!</div>
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Sunday, May 11, tour day 8.</div>
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Even though we had all pedaled our hearts out on Saturday and deserved a much needed rest, that was not to be. The nature of this tour means we just keep pedaling, day after day (with a day off about once a week.)</div>
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Fortunately though, Sunday's ride was a very easy day; only 26 miles and much of it downhill. In fact, we descended down what's called 'Vesuvius' - a twisty road that drops down about 3000 in just 5 or 6 miles! </div>
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Since we weren't doing a lot of mileage Sunday, and we were all pretty tired, the group took it's sweet time getting up and getting out in the morning. The resort we were staying at had told us that they'd provide breakfast burritos! We were all looking forward to that. Turned out to be microwave breakfast burrito bowls by Jimmy Dean. I don't think I've ever been more let down by a breakfast. (insert sad trombone 'waaamp waaamp'.)</div>
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Once on the road, there was actually quite a bit of climbing to do to get out of the mountains. Apparently we were staying in a bit of a basin that we had to ascend out of before we could start making our decent off of the Blue Ridge Mountains. </div>
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On legs that felt like clay, but rested and more or less well fed, we set out for the day. The climbing wasn't easy, but knowing that there wasn't nearly as much of it was up-lifting. </div>
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Here is the death-defying part; the decent down Vesuvius is so steep that its not safe to just run it out (meaning: riding down the hill, without using breaks.) Additionally, the night before we were given the advice to not just ride our brakes all the way down the hill. Apparently (and this was new info to me) the rims of the bike can get so hot from braking that the tube can weaken and pop! And the last thing you want is to blow out a tire on a bike with 50 lbs of gear that's barreling down a mountain at 30 mph!</div>
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Now, armed with that information, I was totally paranoid about over-using my brakes! And the hill lived up to its reputation, it was wicked steep! </div>
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On the decent, I found myself definitely getting more speed than I was comfortable with, so I used my brakes, on and off, to bleed off speed. Then when I saw a flat-ish spot I decided to stop to let my rims and brakes cool off. At that point, I could actually smell the rubber, hear a change in the sound of the brakes, and could feel a change in the stopping power as everything got really hot. The bike did finally stop, and I pulled over for 5 min. </div>
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Then, rolling back down again, I did the on-and-off of the brakes some more while scoping out the next spot to try and stop at. When I did try to stop, the brakes just weren't getting it done! The bike was slowing, but not enough to come to a full stop. Then I could tell they were heating up, and around the bend the road dipped down again into another steep decent! I just cranked on the brakes harder and hoped that everything worked. I did manage to come to just barely come to a stop before the turn, and hung out there for another 5 minutes. </div>
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This went on twice more, although those weren't as nerve wracking. </div>
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If you've ever heard me tell the story of barreling down a mountain in Germany on rollerblades, you'll know this sensation of not being able to stop felt somewhat frighteningly familiar.</div>
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The ride down Vesuvius was the first time on a bike that I was actually genuinely worried. Maybe even a little bit scared. I think I was most likely fine, and I wasn't going to blow a tire or melt my brake pads, but it was better to err on the side of caution. And, this is a guy who just barreled down a hill (a different, safer, hill) at probably upwards of 35 or 40 mph, with a fully loaded bike! So I'm not easily rattled. </div>
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Finally, with Vesuvius in our rear-view mirrors, we rode the remaining 10 miles to our campsite. The ride was very pleasant, with some minor rolling hills and a very pretty view of the mountain to our left as we pedaled along a variety of streams and brooks. </div>
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The campsite for the night was a little place in the middle of nowhere that consisted mostly of camper vehicles that looked like they had set roots there permanently. </div>
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And that concludes the death defying part of the day. </div>
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The other part, for me at least, was that Sunday night was my night to cook dinner. We have a rotation of people cooking and cleaning each night, in pairs. I really lucked out in several regards; first off it was a very short day so I was in camp and set up with plenty of time. Then, there was actually a full grocery store nearby (there aren't always) that had all the ingredients I wanted for what I had in mind. And lastly, the tour leader (who was also my cooking partner) had an acquaintance in the area that drove us to the store! This was a lucky trifecta. </div>
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My thought for dinner was that I wanted to have lots of fresh vegetables. For the prior several days our meals hadn't had much in the way of veggies, either because they weren't available, or because the meal just didn't include them. My cooking companion and I talked about our menu the night before, and went entirely with my suggestion: a mixture of seasonable veggies sautéed in olive oil and served over pasta with a light marinara sauce, with some chicken as the main dish. </div>
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At the supermarket I was able to find yellow squash, broccoli, and 3 colors of peppers. It made for a nice mix of color on the plate. Then we did a camping cheat and bought some pre-cooked rotisserie chickens that I pulled apart and served as shredded chicken. </div>
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The veggies came out perfect, and the dish was a huge hit. I had one person tell me that it was the best meal so far. :-D</div>
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And, it must have really had an impact, because every meal since we have had more and more fresh vegetables, and several of the meals have even included sautéed yellow squash. </div>
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I was very happy that we could successfully feed 16 hungry bikers. And with the satisfaction of a job well done, I turned in for the night (and wrote the blog post for the day before, titled 'Help, I'm alive.')</div>
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If anyone has any recipes or meal suggestions for something that can be made with 2 stove burners, 3 pots and 1 pan, that is easy to make and can feed 16 people, please post them in the comments below! My next cooking rotation comes up on Tuesday!!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01572202248059648474noreply@blogger.com4