Thank you

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. 

It was a long road here, literally, of course, and figuratively as well. 

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. 

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. 

Thank you Davey for the inspiration. 

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. 

Thank you Tracie for giving me the gift that put me on a new path. 

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. 

Thank you Michele for helping me see the possibility. 

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.

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.

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. 

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.

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. 

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.

So, until then, thank you with all my heart for following along and sharing in my adventure. 

  

Days go by

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. 

I did a two week touchpoint at the start of the trip and am looking at it now with just one remaining. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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? 

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.  

Eventually the days and cities blend together, forming a larger tapestry of being on the road. 

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. 

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. 

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'. 

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. 

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. 

I think I won't be able to fully process and understand this trip until well after I'm done. But for now, in this life I am a cyclist, at least for one more week. 

Wherever I may roam

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. 

Camping

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. 

In the past, my experience camping (at established camp grounds) has been semi-remote but not really 'roughing it.'

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. 

If you've ever been to a KOA campground or Good Sam, that's what a lot of these have been. 

They all have showers and restroom facilities, and running water available somewhere. 

These are the Holiday Inn of camping. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

In addition to that fun afternoon, the campground was nice and quiet that night. 

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. 

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. 

The campground that night was nice, but totally overrun by mosquitos. 

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.

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. 

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. 

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. 

(organized tent inside pic)

Not quite camping

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.  

Cyclist Hostels

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. 

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.

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. 

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. 

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. 

Churches

Surprising to me, we stayed at a number of churches that opened their doors to us and let us spend the night. 

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.

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.) 

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.

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. 

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. 

Hotels

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! 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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!

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. 

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."

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!  

Great Expectations

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. 

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.

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...

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.

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!

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...

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.

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...

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...

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...

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. 

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. 

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!) 

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. 

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!)

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.


Some of the things I think of regarding this post:

Asterisk Day*

What is pride, what is accomplishment?

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. 

This was actually my idea/suggestion, although I still struggled with the decision of whether or not to take advantage of it. 

Finally, I decided 'why make this harder than it needs to be?'

Seeing this early on in the day, someone asked me; "Do you feel like you're cheating?" And the easy answer is 'No.' 

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?

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? 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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!

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. 

'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. 

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. 

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. 

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!

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! 

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. 

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. 

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.

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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! 

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. 

Finally we reached the top, 11539 feet, and nearly 4500 feet of climbing just for that one day!

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). 

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!

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!) 

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.