Tailwinds

Pictures

2005-09-04T09:35:00.000-07:00

Click Here for pictures of the Finish Line

Next...?

2005-09-02T11:36:00.000-07:00

September 2, 2005

It is finished. I made it to the Atlantic.

I really don’t know how to dive into this entry, the last one of this trip.

I think the main thing that continues to become more and more evident is that this trip was just one of many adventures; the journey continues. Since Saturday, the continuing journey has already proven to be one full of wonderful surprises, ups, downs, and everything in between.

I guess I’ll give you one last run down of the final days and let the rest stem from that…

Wednesday I left Richmond and headed down to Jamestown. On the way out of Richmond I passed the Richmond Times-Dispatch building. I spoke with an editor a day earlier who told me he would get back to me and, of course, never did. So, surprised to ride right by it, I decided to stop in and pay him a visit. He ended up thanking me for my persistence and paired me up with a writer and a photographer. After a little interview and photo op, I really got on the road and made my way toward Jamestown.

That was the last great ride of the trip. 54 miles in three hours, non-stop; just a great ride of spinning along the great road of route 5, which runs along the James.

I got to the campground and was met by an 18 year-old girl who seemed to find pleasure in charging sweaty cyclists $25 to pitch a tiny backpacking tent on their property. Unwilling to pay such a ridiculous price, I called a friend who lives in Williamsburg and asked if she’d be willing to play host to a stranded cyclist. She said she’d love to help the cause and I headed over. Thanks again Jessica, it was great catching up on everything.

Thursday I left Williamsburg, crossed the James River, and got that much closer to the Beach. I had planned on camping out that night as well. I was about three miles from the campground when I came upon a closed bridge, sending me roughly 8 miles back out of my way. The detour put me on a road that would take me right to my house in Portsmouth if I stayed on it. Being the sucker for surprises that I am, I decided to stay on that road and shock my family by surprising them a day early.

They were very excited that I decided to do that. Someone spotted me as I pulled up to the house and the sounds of screams and surprise carried them outside to welcome me. It was great to see everyone. We went out to dinner and enjoyed our early reunion.

Friday I took a short ride over to Chesapeake where I was able to enjoy a little picnic dinner with some of my family that had made rather long trips to come enjoy the Finish Line festivities with us. It was a nice night of hanging out and enjoying the company of family the night before the big day.

That night I camped out in the Chesapeake City Park. It was nice to spend that final night on a picnic table, like so many before it. I ended up going for a midnight walk around the park. It turned into a pretty nice chat with God; talking about the shear wonder of it all, the amazing fortune He blessed me with in assembling the trip, thanking Him for the many blessings He provided while out there on the trip… I told Him how I couldn’t believe how quickly it all went. It was hard to believe I was in a park I had been to many times before on the eve of the final day of a cross-country bicycle ride.

Friday morning came pretty quickly. I woke up with the sun one last time and went for another walk. It was a nice morning. I didn’t know how I would feel as the day would progress, so it was nice to enjoy the quiet, early minutes and ease myself into it.

I made my way over to Panera where I killed a few hours before heading toward the Beach. The main thing I did, while I hung out and enjoyed my bagel and coffee, was arrange a thorough sample of my pictures from the trip for the running slide show that night at the party. That, too, turned into a great look back at the trip. It stirred up many memories, thoughts, and emotions as I went through each picture and remembered the entire trip day by day.

I left Panera close to 11, and rode over to a McDonald’s for lunch. I left McDonald’s around 12:30 and headed for Virginia Beach. The short stints of the ride that day were filled with all kinds of scattered emotions; I couldn’t figure out how I felt. As I got closer to the Beach it started to become a bit surreal. I stopped at a Chic-Fil-A a couple miles from the Beach and made myself breathe while I had a little ice cream cone. I figured, I started the trip eating everything in sight, may as well end it that way too…

It was 2 o’clock when I left Chic-Fil-A, and I rode to a nearby park to kill the last extra minutes before getting to the Beach at 3. I walked around and took one more look back at all the elements that led to that very walk. It was overwhelming. I’d get chills thinking about one thing, then I’d start laughing at the fact that it actually happened, then I’d remember another moment that made me stop and think just, “wow”… It was crazy.

Then, maybe the saddest moment of the day, I walked back over to my incredibly faithful steed, put on my helmet, and asked her if she was ready…

I know it’s only a bike, but it’s really not. That bike was my vessel; it brought me back home. I remember being out in Oregon, looking at the bike, thinking, “So, this is it.” That was the bike I had entrusted to carry me 4,000 miles and take me all the way home. And it did. I got on her one last time, made a right onto Gen. Booth Boulevard, and headed for the Finish Line.

My heart was pounding, honestly. I tried to prepare myself for the view as I came up to the Rudee Inlet bridge, the first time I would see the Atlantic. I rode onto the bridge, looked to the right, and received my reward. It was beautiful. More than that, it was home.

The familiar hotels, the jetties, the ocean, the bridge itself – it felt so good. I tried to fly down Pacific but the stoplights presented their own hurdles; prolonging the event, making sure I slowed down enough to take it all in. I got to 31st street, made a right, and headed for the Finish Line. As I crossed Atlantic, I started to hear the cheers.

There were roughly 50 people at the Beach to welcome me back; it was amazing. I rode across the boardwalk to the sand, got off, and muscled myself and the bike through 50 yards of loose sand to the Finish Line. I left the bike at the Finish Line, took off my helmet, and ran to the ocean; it was incredible.

I was dumbstruck. I was amazed that so many had come out to cheer me to the end. I came out of the water and found myself in a daze. I walked toward the crowd of friends and family in amazement. Thankfully my dad broke the shock factor with a big hug and welcomed me back, starting a great succession of hugs. It was a great homecoming. People I didn’t even know, just watching on the beach, welcomed me back with congratulations. I was also thankful to the two news crews that came out and covered the event. I had my first little ocean front press conference. It was great.

After an initial round of hugs and handshakes, I walked back to pick up the bike and take her down for her long awaited dip in the Atlantic. It was great. “It was great…” It was...!

I couldn’t have asked for a better reception. Thank you to everybody who came out Saturday to see me back. Thank you!

After the party at the Beach I rode back home with my dad to change, rinse off the bike, and catch my breath before the party that night. I tried to lie down for a minute to recharge, but could do only that – lie there, however even that was nice. I was whipped from that little jaunt through the sand, carrying the beast to the Finish Line. Once getting to the Finish Line, I almost didn’t make it to the water; I had envisioned a victorious dive into the ocean, I was lucky just to get there. It turned into a mixture of a dive and a collapse into the ocean – it felt great nonetheless. So, after a brief rest, we headed to Norfolk for another little celebration of the trip and all that went with it.

It was a great night; everybody had a nice time. We were able to celebrate all that came of the trip and it was great to see all those that came out for it.

It’s just odd that it’s over. I told Chaz, on the sixth day of the trip, while laboring up our third pass of the 114-mile ride to Baker City, about one of my favorite lines from the Bible. It is found in Luke and is often passed over on the way to reading the Christmas passage. Luke 2 begins, “And it came to pass that in those days, there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.” The birth of Christ ensues; a staple in churches all across the country around Christmas time, an incredible story.

However, one of my favorite lines from that is: “It came to pass.” It’s a great thing to remember. It’s all temporary, nothing’s permanent; it all came to pass. That day when it seemed we would never find the summit, the road kept climbing with every turn – as with so many other obstacles of the trip, I was reminded that it came to pass; it would end.

And beyond the trip, I think it’s an invaluable promise to hold close. Whether you find yourself caught in a moment, the joy of which you wish you could bottle and share with the world, or you stumble into a wall that seems 50 feet tall; it came to pass. Cherish the highs and fight through the lows, they’re all fleeting.

So, as promised, the trip too has passed. But as I said, the journey continues.

I have no idea what lays in store. I am excited by the future and the treasures that are ahead. I am anxious to see how I will arrive at all I have planned, now I feel I simply have to learn the tough lesson of patience. I just have to be patient, be patient, can’t be in such a hurry… It’ll come.

But what a great trip. If you have any desires to do anything of the sort – do it. Make it happen, then email me and tell me about it.

I am pleased to say; roughly $9,000 was raised for the CF Foundation. Of course, it’s never too late to give, if for some reason you weren’t able to contribute, there’s still time. Feel free to also check out the Foundation’s website from time to time and see what they have going on.

I couldn’t have asked for a better tribute to Stephen and the incredible journey he led while battling the monster of CF. His spirit will continue to thrive in the hearts of those who knew him. I was glad to be given the opportunity to share that spirit with those who would have otherwise never known him. He’s quite a friend and I am thankful to have been able to make this trip on his behalf.

Thank you to everyone who had a hand in this trip. I have an incredible network of amazing friends and family who worked very hard to make several key elements of the trip happen; to them I say, Thank You! Your tireless efforts are not lost on me. Thank you.

And another thank you to all those who lived vicariously through the journal and encouraged me along the way; I found that to be another precious lesson, the power of faith and support in a person. There truly were days when I’d feel a little low and call upon the encouraging notes and support to sustain me. It would just make me think of how important optimism, love, and support is for children – people in general.

So many lessons, so many treasures I’ll never forget. Thank you for riding along and enjoying this incredible experience with me.

2005-09-02T11:30:00.000-07:00

Days 78-84

2005-08-23T23:50:00.000-07:00

August 23, 2005

Wow.

That just about sums up the past five days. It’s hard to believe it’s almost over. It seems like just last week I was here in Richmond, in this same room, laying out all my gear in preparation for the flight out to Oregon. Now, 84 days and 3,700 miles later, I’m back and just four short days away from the Atlantic and the conclusion of the trip.

The past few days have been a blur, as I suspected might happen. I think I’m in the early stages of post-tandem-depression. It’s not a depression; just an odd mixture of emotions. I’ll be in the middle of doing something and fade off into a scene from the trip. At dinner last night the sky reminded me of Wyoming. A car ride with my grandmother reminded me of getting behind the wheel of a car, for the first time in forever, back in St Louis. At lunch on Sunday I started wondering where Heather and Jackson, the Kiwi’s, were and what they were doing at that exact time.

I don’t expect this to end any time soon. I think this might be the beginning of a trend that will last a long time. Like any great love affair, I’m sure the trip will continue to teach me things long after it comes to a close.

As I return to the familiar surroundings I left a short while ago, I’m beginning to see how the ride has affected me. Beyond the scars and tan-lines, the trip has given me much more than I ever anticipated. To delve into the many thoughts and lessons of the trip in this forum, would, in a way, only cheapen them. They’re like sweet little treasures I found along my journey, the significance of which I could never fully convey.

Here’s a brief synopsis of the recent action:

Thursday I made my way to Roanoke where I met the kind folks at Channel 10 News. Karen McNew and her photographer, Jarrod, put together a nice story on the trip for the news that night. Karen was very nice and took a genuine interest in the trip. Jarrod, too, was very friendly and even let me crash with him that night. I was excited the have to trip featured in the news, the first of the trip. They did a great job of covering all the bases and highlighting all the elements. Thanks again guys! It was great to meet you.

Friday I landed in Lynchburg, literally. I had my first, and (hopefully) only, fall of the trip as I arrived in Lynchburg. It wasn’t anything too serious, just left me a bit banged up. Thankfully, Harrison, a Lynchburg local, spotted me laboring to patch my tire in my filthy, somewhat bloody, condition. He and his mother let me clean up in the building of their family law practice. After that, he drove me down to the bike shop to pick up a new tube and tire. He really saved me. My nerves were pretty shot and I wasn’t making too much progress in patching my flat. So, many thanks again Harrison! I’d still be on Fifth Street if you hadn’t been there to help…

Actually, I doubt I’d still be there. I would like to think my cousin and his wife would have eventually picked me up sometime that night. They were headed up to friends’ near Charlottesville and passed through town in perfect time to meet for dinner. It was great to see them. They treated me to dinner and enjoyed a firsthand glimpse into life on the road. Thanks again guys, looking forward to seeing you again – not too much longer..!

Another great thing about that night was getting a phone call from Karen McNew, the anchor in Roanoke. Her producer had her give me a call to find out where I ended up that day to do a follow-up for the evening news. Not only did they give an update of my progress, they recapped the whole event. So, another huge Thank You to the folks at Channel 10 News in Roanoke! It was a great surprise to find such great and continued support from the station.

Saturday was the worst day of heat and humidity of the entire trip, and the worst day of heat in weeks. I left Lynchburg with intentions of resting near Farmville that night. As I passed through Appomattox I saw I was only 24 miles outside of Farmville. Looking at the map, I figured I’d have enough time to get to Richmond and decided to make the push and surprise my grandmother.

A little past Appomattox, I crested the top of a hill and saw a handful of people on the side of the road waving as I approached. It was the Walton family. The Walton’s have two children with CF. A friend of theirs passed me down the road, called to let them know he just passed me, and told them where I was. They hopped in their car came out too meet and cheer me on. It was quite amazing. I was really touched that they came out in the heat to meet me. It was also great to meet little four-year-old Josie. A few of those little treasures I spoke of earlier came in that brief encounter with those great ladies.

It’s been great to learn of and meet these incredible people. They’re so young, and they have such an amazing, wise spirit about them. I rode off wishing I could do more; I felt so small. I can’t even imagine being the parent of one of these children. I’m sure they’d give anything to take this burden from them, eagerly trade places.

I got to Farmville, ate a little dinner, and got back on the road for Richmond. Some ridiculous phenomena occurred while I was inside eating dinner, the humidity increased 3-fold by the time I got back on the bike. It was almost unbearable. I was no longer sweating, I was now a human faucet and I couldn’t turn myself off. My entire body was completely drenched in sweat, including my shorts.

I never mentioned my rear and the great success I have been fortunate enough to experience on the trip for fear of jinxing it – I guess I hold on to a few superstitions here and there… However, I am happy to say, until Saturday, I never had any real problems with saddle sores or anything of that nature. But Saturday they came, and they came with a fury. I couldn’t even sit and pedal, I had to get up out of the saddle to do any pedaling. After a few minutes of fighting the pain, I pulled off, grabbed my dry shorts, ran into the woods, and swapped out. It was a little better, but after 7 miles those shorts were now soaked and as ineffective as the last pair. Before this whole uncomfortable debacle, shortly after leaving Farmville, I passed a sign that read, “Richmond 54.” 54 miles was not good; I thought I was only 30-35 miles away.

I wasn’t going to be able to make it to Richmond as I had hoped. I was father than I thought, crippled by a sore bum, unable to move as fast as I wanted, and quickly falling victim to a rapidly approaching night-time darkness. I could have roughed it behind another gas station or something of the sort, but being so close to Richmond and the bounty of potential rescuers proved to be too much of a temptation.

I called my Aunt who came and saved me from my miserable sweat fest. I really felt bad about throwing in the towel that night; it was the first time I felt like I quit, or had been beaten. I shouldn’t have decided to make the push; I should have found a spot in Farmville. Tracing it back to a few stupid moves on my part actually helped smooth it over. I told my aunt I was going to ride out to Powhatan, a little spot west of Richmond, on Monday for lunch to make up for it. She told me that was a stupid idea. I didn’t argue.

We didn’t go back to her house or my grandmother’s that night, my first stop back in Richmond was the ER in the Henrico Doctor’s Hospital. My grandfather has been battling a few ailments recently and was taken to the ER earlier that day. They decided to emit him, so we hung around while a room was cleaned and got him settled into his own room upstairs. It made for a long night, but it was good to see him and hang out with my aunt and uncle while he got situated.

Sunday I had lunch with family at my grandmother’s. It was good to be back at my grandmother’s. I stayed here for the five months I lived in Richmond while I assembled the trip. It was a nice visit and a great meal. Afterward, I headed over to my friends’ Jeff & Dawn for the night. I had planned on staying with friends and other family, I didn’t want to stay here at my grandmother’s, so as to prolong any sense of “home” for as long as possible.

Jeff & Dawn were incredibly helpful in assembling the trip. They made the trip themselves back in 2001 and had a ton of useful knowledge to share. When I think of our first night of hanging out and going over everything, I shudder to think of what they thought as I left. I knew absolutely nothing of the cycling world. They literally walked me through everything, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Not only were they patient in walking me through it all, they never doubted I could do it. And, knowing I exuded ignorance, I think that was the best part of getting to know them, their confidence.

They, once again, welcomed me with open arms into their home and even had a great dinner waiting. We chatted and ate amidst the healthy sounds of Mitch, their three-month-old, vying for his share of the spotlight. I thought of what a stark contrast it was to the night before in the hospital.

As I walked past the dimly lit rooms of the patients that night in the hospital, I wondered what kind of life they led up to that point; if they got to experience anything like the ride I just took on my way back to Richmond. Were they happy? I wondered how serious it was; if they’d have another chance to do some of the things they wished they had. It’s a strange paradox that all efforts to soften the experience of a hospital on the senses: the soft light, the hushed beeps, faint odors – they all add up to an incredibly jolting reminder of mortality and the frailty of life.

Snap back to the present dinner with the kids, the parents, the spitting up, the talk of a princess bike from a proud two-year-old named Carley – what a breath of fresh air. They’d smile and mention the peace that loomed on the horizon, but I didn’t mind at all; it really was great.

Those worlds should never have to meet. Kids don’t belong in hospitals.

After dinner Jeff kindly gave my bike, specifically my rear wheel, some much needed love. He also gave me one of his spare tires that’s in great shape. We finished tuning up the bike and sat down to watch a little video Dawn put together for Jeff of their own TransAmerican trip.

It was really great to see their trip. I was on the same route they were for some of the ride, so it was a great look back for me as well. It was great to talk about some of those “little treasures” with them. I really recommend making the long haul. There’s so much about the trip that people just wouldn’t understand without having done it themselves. It was so nice to have Jeff & Dawn to talk to and bounce some of that stuff off of. They’re really great. They also have a really great mother.

Before we headed off to bed, they told me to make myself at home and sleep in, whatever I wanted. They had to leave early for work, but Jeff’s mom would be there to watch the kids. I still wanted to get up and say thanks again to Jeff, but I just missed him. I did, however, get to meet his mom.

I’ve met a several great women on the trip and I was excited to find she was another one to add to the list. She was incredibly nice. I enjoyed listening to her stories of her travels abroad, the fateful road that sometimes took her there, and several other great topics of conversation as I ate my breakfast.

Carpe diem – remember that..? Seize the day, live life, drink it up..? I love talking to people that have, at least once, embraced that and let the tide carry them where it may. How great…

Yesterday and today I felt a little more tired than usual. I had two pretty late nights back to back, which I assumed was the cause. I had planned on taking off today, but decided to take one more day and get back on the road tomorrow, Wednesday.

I couldn’t be more ready to take that plunge into the Atlantic. Tomorrow I’ll ride down to Jamestown and get in position to take the Beach by storm.

Update...

2005-08-22T21:41:00.000-07:00

I am alive and well. Sorry for the lapse in updates. The past few days have been a bit crazy. I successfully arrived in Richmond Saturday night and have been running around enjoying the re-entry to familiar surroundings. A full update will be posted sometime tomorrow afternoon...

Days 76&77

2005-08-17T21:59:00.000-07:00

August 17, 2005

Ten Days, Baby!!! How ‘bout that!

When I try to think of the trip as a completed task I’m rendered speechless. I can’t describe all the things that come to mind when I think of the Finish Line and all the things I encountered on the way to it, and to try to describe the wave of emotions that flood me while I think of all those things is out of the question, it would be impossible.

Yesterday I had another thrilling ride through the hills of Virginia. I got on the road and enjoyed an hour of quiet riding through a small valley on a little two-lane road. It was a nice afternoon despite the distant thunder. The approaching shower caught up with me about halfway to Radford and kept me company the rest of the way into town.

It was another ridiculous downpour. And again, it was quite fun. I didn’t even bother digging out my rain jacket; I just enjoyed it. It reminded me of playing soccer in High School. The best games were always the ones played in the rain; completely drenched, covered in cut grass from the waist down, finding any excuse to slide and get even more dirty – good times. It was only the second ride in the rain since the ride into West Yellowstone back in Montana. At one point my feet looked up and said, “Hey, remember when we’d get soaked like every other day back in Oregon and Idaho?”

I got to Radford, about ten miles from Blacksburg, around 7 or so and called a friend who lives here to see if I could crash with her. I hung out in coldest Taco Bell this side of the Mississippi (which I can now say that with some credibility) while I ate and waited for the friend to return my call. She never did, but I didn’t mind. I found a nice little $25 motel instead. The shower alone was worth $25.

Today I planned on heading over to Blacksburg. The plan was to get over there, hang out, then meet Molly and her husband for dinner. Molly emailed me a few weeks ago and told me about her 7-year-old niece, Diana who also has CF. She and her husband, Allen, live in Blacksburg and were excited to meet while I was nearby. We exchanged emails this morning and she said they could take the short ride over to Radford and meet me over here if that would be easier. So that’s what we did.

It was really great meeting them; we had a really nice time. Thankfully their niece is doing great. The doctors say if they didn’t know she had CF, they wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at her lungs, they’re strong and healthy! So, pray for continued health and success for Diana, as well as all the many other children fighting this disease.

I would also urge you to consider making a pledge to the Foundation. I know it’s a bit of a sacrifice, but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t something I didn’t believe in.

Right now there is no cure for CF, but progress is being made. In addition to over one hundred care centers, a network of research centers, and the provision of numerous grants for CF research to be done all over the world, the Foundation also hosts an annual conference in Williamsburg, VA. For some reason, this has been one of my favorite tools of the Foundation to learn about.

Now in its 18th year, this exciting conference invites scientists, literally, from all over the world to share knowledge from their specific disciplines and converge to create a dynamic atmosphere of collaboration. Dialogues range from new drug discoveries, more effective treatments for patients, and breakthroughs in gene therapies, along with many more exciting topics and ideas regarding the ongoing war with this disease. It is this type of forum that will continue to keep the lines of communication open among researchers and push them toward innovative techniques in confronting CF.

The CF Foundation won’t waste your money.

If you aren’t the check writing type, click here to make a contribution using your credit card. It will take 5 minutes, 3 if you’re good, and you will receive a confirmation for purposes of tax deduction. If you would, also be sure to mark “In honor of” 2 Feet 4 Pedals so we will be able to track the funds being given as a result of the trip.

I’ve said it before, because I believe it to be true – there is no such thing as a small gift. I know many of my friends are still working while going to school; I know how tough that is. If you could just spare $10; that would be awesome! Before I left, my sister donated $10 of her hard earned babysitting money. That was just about a third of her total assets at the time and it couldn’t have been a greater gift. Just take 5 minutes, try and see if you can do it in 3 – I bet you could…

One of the best things I’ve learned out here is that there are far more good people in the world than there are bad. As much as the media may try to paint the picture of a scarred and broken society, I’ve found the exact opposite to be true. People inherently desire to find good in others. I found it all across the country, from a multitude of races, from many parts of the world. I believe one of the reasons we were put on this planet was to look after one another. Whether from Jamaica, India, Holland, New Zeeland, Kansas, or Virginia Beach, we're all still amazing human beings that believe in the great universals of love, health, and happiness.

We’re all the same.

You may not know someone personally with CF but trust me, they are out there; 30,000 strong. And they are just as wonderful as your little brother, sister, son, daughter, niece, or nephew.

Day 76: 66.33 Total: 3,584.48

2005-08-17T21:55:00.000-07:00

This is Diana.

Day 75

2005-08-15T20:48:00.000-07:00

August 15, 2005

Well, hopefully you got a little taste of how it felt to cross into VA yesterday. My sister said the entry was pretty cheesy, but in a good way of course – of course... I knew it was a rather excited account of the event, but I went ahead and posted it anyway – trying to keep you right here beside me…

As hard as it was, I did finally fall asleep after a long time of thinking about everything. Putting on that song and “re-living” the ride of the afternoon was like pounding a 2-liter of Mt Dew, I was wired; I was up for at least another hour. But it was good. It’s so funny to take a look at your current situation and trace back all circumstances that lead to you ending up right there.

Last night I camped out behind an Exxon gas station. I played around with a few other lodging options but ultimately found myself riding around Grundy in the dark with no viable plan. I headed down to a little town a mile out of Grundy called Vansant and stopped in the gas station to see if they had any ideas. I hung out with the lady and kicked around ideas. She finally called someone who suggested I just crash out back. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” she said, “Yeah, Arnold may come through, but he’s harmless, you’ll be fine.” Arnold is an older gentleman who rides his bike to and from the bar down the road; it just so happens the gas station is halfway on his route to his house. She told me it wasn’t uncommon for him to stop there on the way home and sleep out back as well.

So, as I closed my laptop in this slightly overgrown grassy alley, with two commercial air conditioners trying their best to lull me to sleep under the blue hue of the fluorescent lights above, once again I began to think of the craziness of the situation and how unbelievable it was. That led to me thinking of how incredible the whole trip itself has been, which led to specifics within the trip, which led to how the trip was conceived, which led back to Stephen, which led to – you get the picture…

I never got to meet Arnold; it’s probably a good thing. I’m sure he would have scared me half to death, rolling up while I’m camped out in his favorite spot, on my laptop computer no less…

This morning I woke up, packed up, and got on the road. There was a thick fog lying in the hills this morning, it was pretty nice. It made for some great views as the sun, still golden, broke through the fog and lit up the hills in the distance. It was another nice morning ride. I ended up cutting the day a little shorter than I had planned. Instead of a longer day today and tomorrow to get to Blacksburg tomorrow, I decided to break it down into thirds. Now I’ll be able to get to Blacksburg at a nice hour on Wednesday to hang out and enjoy the town a little more.

I ended up in Tazewell, VA. It seems to be a nice little town. Tomorrow I’ll head toward Blacksburg and see how far I get.

Today: 48.55 Total: 3,518.15

2005-08-15T18:46:00.000-07:00

2005-08-15T18:45:00.000-07:00

2005-08-15T18:43:00.000-07:00

2005-08-15T18:41:00.000-07:00

Day 74

2005-08-15T11:30:00.000-07:00

August 14, 2005

Virginia! It’s good to be here. Crossing the state line was definitely the highlight of the day, other than that, not much else happened. So, rather than bore you with the mundane details of where and what I ate, I’m just going to try to convey how great it felt to finally cross into my home state.

As I lay here, trying to figure out how to begin describing the feeling of crossing into Virginia, I realize it’s almost impossible; I can’t even really describe it to myself. I knew it would be a cool final threshold, but I was surprised at how overwhelmed I became as I started pedaling again, after the ceremonial photo session with the much-anticipated state welcome mat.

It was the first time I actually felt I had crossed into another state. It was more than just a sign this time; it was different. I felt like Dorothy stepping out of her wind swept house into the colorful world of Oz, it was beautiful. Just as I crossed the line, truly, the road joined forces with a river and ran side by side, the river to my left. The high wall of the bluff to my right took two large steps backward and was now showcasing the lush green blanket of sprawling ivy that covered everything and even hung from the trees. Mini-waterfalls of runoff water from the hills dotted the ride as the moisture of the recessed woods cooled my skin.

I couldn’t stop stopping. I kept wanting to take pictures, I also didn’t want the feeling to go away. I was on Cloud 9, reeling in a state of numb confusion over all the events that led me to that little bubble of time. I really felt like Dorothy, that’s as best I can describe it. I felt like I was in a place I knew but had never been. I kept looking up, to the right, the left, behind me... I finally put the camera away and told myself to enjoy it. I felt like I had crossed the Finish Line.

I was about 12 miles from Grundy and in no hurry to get there. I was on my victory lap. Not too far into the ride of euphoria U2’s Where the Streets Have No Name came on over my MP3 player – of course it would… For those who may not know – just, if you haven’t heard it, or haven’t heard it in a while, check it out. It’s a great song with the most incredible, adrenaline-inducing intro ever written. I was so pumped. I felt a truck coming up behind me, as it passed and I saw the bright Virginia license plate pull away the most giddy laugh flew out of me. It was nuts. It was great.

I want to do it again…

So I’m home; the rest of the ride is dessert. And I can’t wait. I don’t even know what else to say. I just put on that song again, closed my eyes, and let Bono and the boys take me back to this afternoon so I could refresh the feeling, and once again I’m speechless. What a great ride.

Today: 55.34 Total: 3,469.40

2005-08-15T11:28:00.000-07:00

2005-08-15T11:27:00.000-07:00

I'll buckle up, I swear! I'll do anything you want - I'm just so happy to be here..!

2005-08-15T11:25:00.000-07:00

2005-08-15T11:24:00.000-07:00

2005-08-15T11:23:00.000-07:00

2005-08-15T11:21:00.000-07:00

Days 71-73

2005-08-13T21:41:00.000-07:00

August 13, 2005

Two weeks from now the trip will be over.

Thursday I left Lexington and got back on the road for Virginia. Before leaving I was disappointed to learn the paper did not run the story as I eagerly anticipated. Referring to our conversation the night before, about big papers versus smaller circulars, Brett’s response to the sad news, or lack of news as it were, was, “That’s the nature of the beast…”

A little ways down the road I stopped by a little farm to hang out with a handful of very hospitable horses. I’ve really come to appreciate horses through the course of the trip. They have to be one of the most regal animals on the planet. In addition to their incredibly strong physiques, they seem to have a nice quiet wisdom about them. They’re quite amazing.

After my little equine excursion, I got back on the road and noticed a man taking my picture as I came down a hill. As I passed the man I realized it was Pablo. He had mentioned he had to go out of town that morning to get some pictures for the paper. I told him to keep an eye out for me in case he’d pass me on the way back, but was surprised our paths had actually crossed again. He passed me and turned around to take a few shots of me coming down the hill. It was really great to see him again. We chatted a bit, he gave me a bottle of water, we took a look at his better-detailed road atlas, and parted ways once again.

It was another day of feeling my way in a general eastward direction. I ended up calling it a day in Campton, Kentucky. Several people warned me that I would start to encounter some pretty rough hills on the ride coming out of Lexington. Thankfully it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. However, it was a pretty hot day, as they all are, and I was glad to finally rest for the night.

Yesterday I started the ride in the hopes of reaching Virginia. I knew it would be a long day but also knew it was possible. Had I managed to get on the road earlier than I did, I would have made it. I ended up running out of daylight. Yesterday did confirmed, however, that I’m in the best shape of my life; of course an amazing realization through a great day of riding.

As I said, the goal for the day was to cross the VA state line. Stupidly, I finally got on the road at 12:30pm. Even with the late start, I knew it was possible. It was possible, but I’d have to work hard to make it happen. I got moving and, pretty quickly, ran into a little succession of hills. I set a few bars for myself, as a hopeful means to reaching my goal for the day, and powered my way along. It was the hardest I had worked since the ride to Canon City with Temple, and it felt great.

I actually love to sweat. As weird as it may sound, I like being drenched with sweat in the midst of a workout. I guess it just feels like proof; proof you’re really working hard. Yesterday the sweat was, once again, rolling off me as I motored along. I was able to find a consistent cadence, which I hadn’t had in a while, and maintain it. In contrast to the day before, along with many other days, I focused on keeping the cranks spinning, and was pleased with my ability to do so. I was able to slip into a bit of a zone and perform. After I’d stop to grab a snack and a drink, it would take me a few minutes to fall back into the spell, but once I did I was in, moving just as smoothly as before.

As a personal act of quiet stubbornness, I haven’t used the third chain ring since before Missouri. I vowed not to dip into it for the duration of whatever Ozark madness I would encounter. I was successful in keeping my oath in Missouri and haven’t used it since, yesterday being the first test of that oath in a while. There’s really no reason for it, just a little personal “I did it” for whatever it’s worth. I’m sure it’s actually a waste of energy and wearing out my middle chain ring, but I’m a dumb young man and will, undoubtedly, continue the streak as long as I’m able.

I got to the east side of Pikeville at 6:30 and stopped in a Shoney’s where I inhaled a sweet tea, a piece of strawberry pie, another sweet tea, and spaghetti dinner, with meat sauce on the side, in that order. I kinda threw the lady for a loop when I asked for my dessert first, but it looked so good in the window I didn’t want to wait. On the way in I spoke with a guy who said the state line was about 30 miles away. Just as I planned, I ate and was back on the bike at 7 o’clock. I really thought I could hustle and get to VA in two hours, just behind the last shades of dusk.

As I made my way through Pikeville I noticed it was getting darker quicker than I anticipated. I felt something telling me to throw in the towel and call it a day. So, having learned my lesson to trust my instincts, I stopped on the west side of town and set up camp for the evening. I didn’t make it to VA, but I counted it a successful day nonetheless.

I decided to take today off here in Pikeville. Nothing too exciting, just a day of resting and preparing to roll into VA. Another sign of my hard work yesterday was the soreness I felt this morning. My lower back being the main pain, my whole body felt a touch more sensitive than normal. So it was extra nice to take it easy today.

Two weeks from now the trip will be over. A trip that once seemed as if it would never come now seems as if it has flown by. I used to refer to the ride as a journey, however, the speed with which the trip has taken, as well as the choices that lay ahead have shown me that it is only a trip, a short stint in a larger journey that will press on long after the 27th. I’m not sure where my journey will lead me after this trip comes to a close, but I will be ever thankful for the opportunity I had to make it and take in all I’ve been able to experience as a result. I am increasingly more thankful for having known Stephen and being able to benefit from the legacy he left behind. This was really a present given to me from him and I thank him for it. It’s been amazing.

But it’s not over yet... As anxious as I am to get home, I do still have 14 days left. I’ll be tapping into a few more papers in Virginia and making a final run for media exposure. I’m proud to say the three big news affiliates have committed to being at the beach for the Finish Line arrival, thanks to my hometown media/pr coordinator – my mom. So, that will be a nice final piece of publicity for the Foundation and the event...

I guess that’s all for now. Tomorrow, Virginia!

Day 71: 64.43
Day 72: 85.44 Total: 3,414.26

2005-08-13T14:12:00.000-07:00

2005-08-13T14:11:00.000-07:00

2005-08-13T14:09:00.001-07:00

2005-08-13T14:09:00.000-07:00

2005-08-13T14:08:00.000-07:00

The heat's so bad even the cows start looking for shade...

2005-08-13T14:06:00.000-07:00

2005-08-13T14:04:00.000-07:00

Day 70

2005-08-11T04:56:00.000-07:00

August 10, 2005

Today went much better than yesterday; no flats..!

This morning I looked in the phone book for a bike shop in Frankfurt to swing by before getting on the road. The closest bike shop I saw was in Lexington, 30 miles up the road from Frankfurt. I finally rode about 12 miles successfully last night on the cursed, flat-prone wheel into Frankfurt and figured it would be alright to ride on it over to Lexington; I really had no other choice. I grabbed some lunch and got on the road.

It was so nice to actually ride the bike again, instead of stopping every ten minutes to fix the bike. It really was a nice ride. I got to Lexington in just over two hours; it felt good to get back on track again. The scenery was quite nice today as well, lots of well-kept ranches with plenty of land for their horses to run and stretch their legs.

I got to Lexington and called my aunt for the address to the Lexington Herald-Leader. After asking a local for directions over to it, I rode over to see if they’d be willing to help out. Thankfully they were, in more ways than I expected.

I called up to an editor from downstairs and she said she’d find someone to head down and chat. Sam, one of their reporters, came down and spoke with me for a while and asked me a few questions for the story. After speaking with Sam a bit, Brett, the photojournalist, came down to take a few pictures. The three of us spoke for a few minutes before Brett and I headed outside.

I had told the guys how I was thinking about hanging out in Lexington for the night while we spoke inside. It seemed like a cool little town and I also wanted to take a little better look at the University of Kentucky campus. As Brett and I walked over to the little park across the street he asked me where I thought I might stay if I stayed in Lexington. I told him I wasn’t sure and asked him if he knew of a good spot to check out. He definitely knew of a good spot. He said I could head over and crash at his place if I wanted. I asked him if he was sure, he said he was, and the deal was done.

After he took a few pictures, we went back inside so he could upload them and submit them to the editor. While he wrapped things up with that I chatted with Pablo, another photographer on staff, who is also a cyclist. He, too, was really friendly and suggested my rim tape may have been the cause of all my flats yesterday. The spokes may not have been visibly coming through, but if there were holes in the tape, the tube when fully inflated would creep down in there and find the spokes, causing the flats. The scenario fit the situation rather well, I think he nailed it; I did have a few holes.

After Brett wrapped things up with the article, we grabbed all my bags off the bike and tucked her away at the bike rack in the stairwell and headed out for the bike shop – yes, that’s right, in a car! Brett drove me over to the shop where I picked up some tape, two more tubes, and a free presta/shrader valve adapter. After that we headed over to a nice little Mexican restaurant for dinner where Pablo met us shortly thereafter. It was a good time.

After dinner we said goodbye to Pablo and headed over to the house, which is quite a nice house. It actually belongs to his brother; I didn’t get to meet him, he and his family are in Cincinnati right now. Brett is staying with them while he wraps up his internship before heading up to Michigan to start his new job on Tuesday. So a big thank you also goes out to Brett’s brother for letting me crash at his nice home, thank you! We hung out downstairs and watched a some TV on a nice little 61” television, with surround sound, while we chatted, fixed a broken spoke, and put the new rim tape on the rear wheel. It was really nice of him to let me come over and stay here tonight. Thanks again Brett!

So as you can see today was quite the contrast from yesterday when I spent more time fixing the bike than riding it. I am very thankful for the kindness found at the paper. It’s another big one and should reach a rather large audience tomorrow, not to mention the great hospitality found there in Brett. Just a good stuff on a good day.

We’ll see what tomorrow has in store…

Today: 34.56 Total: 3,264.39

2005-08-10T22:23:00.000-07:00

2005-08-10T22:22:00.000-07:00

Of course the owner of the car had to turn the corner just as I was hunched over firing off a picture of his license plate. Brett quickly stepped in and defused the situation very nicely..!

2005-08-10T22:19:00.000-07:00

Los Tres Amigos...

Days 68&69

2005-08-10T02:06:00.000-07:00

August 10, 2005

What a day. It’s 12:22am and I’m quite exhausted. I was tempted to just crash and put off the journal for another day or so, but I couldn’t go to bed without filling you in on the disastrous record I set today. I’m just going to tell you – today I had 6 flats in the span of 12 miles. 6 Flat Tires!!! 6 and a half if you want to get kinda technical…

Yesterday I decided to take the day off in Louisville. I was able to get some laundry done, stroll around town, pick up some inner tubes, eat some pizza, and go to a Louisville Bats game. The Bats are the Triple-A farm team of the Cincinnati Reds and they have a nice little stadium to play in that can’t be more than 3 years old. They played Indianapolis; I missed the Tides, the Norfolk Tides, by one day. All in all it was a pretty good day.

Today before leaving town I swung by the paper and was able to speak to a real nice reporter whom I can’t remember the name of right now, my apologies – it’s getting late... But he was really nice; we had a great chat. I’m pretty sure that’s the biggest paper to feature the story so far. Thank you to the Courier-Journal for your willingness to help! It should run in tomorrow’s paper. They gave me directions to get out of town, I swung by McDonald’s, and got on the road.

Now, the thing about the tubes I picked up yesterday is that they were pretty skinny. My tires are a little wider than the normal road tires and the only tubes the little shop had were for thinner tires. But being that the difference was only a matter of about ten millimeters, and that was my only option, I went for them anyway; I picked up two. It was a primarily a skate and BMX shop, so I was thankful they had any tubes at all, I figured they’d at least get me to another shop to pick up some others. On the way out of town today I found another bike shop.

I picked up two more tubes and a patch kit from the real shop I found this afternoon. Now having three spare tubes, I left the shop thinking those may be the last spares I get for the trip, now I’m thinking that may not be the case…

It took me over 8 hours to go 50 miles.

I was a little bummed when I picked up the first flat, but I changed it out and went over to Burger King to treat myself to a milkshake as a reward. Thinking that would be my speed bump for the day, I figured I’d get a little pick-me-up for the ride to Frankfurt; I had close to 40 miles left. I guess I was about 10 miles down the road when my second one came, and as you may remember from the first half of the trip: one flat kills your momentum, two flats kill your nerves. That still holds true, and being so, I can’t even describe what 6 flats does to you.

I was actually okay with the first several flats. Seriously, what are you going to do? You’re gonna fix it, you have no choice. There’s no use getting all bent out of shape and making things worse for yourself. However, the fourth was about the last one that I was able to hold on to that perspective. The fourth was also the first one I had to patch having just blown through my three new spare tubes. I had just patched the hole, put it back together, checked the evenness, and was pumping it up to put back on the bike when I heard the foul sound of air pouring out of the tire again. Somehow a new hole bit into the tube as I was pumping it up, hence the added "half-flat." I checked the tire before putting the tube in, and I had been checking the rim to see if any spokes were popping through all along, so I don’t know how that little hole happened, but it did and I wasn’t too happy about it.

Then the fifth and sixth came back-to-back, no more than 3 miles down the road. One of my theories is that, again, the tubes were too skinny for the tire and in inflating them to fit the tire, I was stretching them a bit too thin making them more vulnerable – I really have no idea… I ended up chucking the shoddy tire at a tree after getting it off the rim after the fifth flat. After putting my skinnier old “spare” tire back on the bike, I went and picked up the trash tire so I could have another thrill of vengeance by dunking it in a trash can when I got to Frankfurt, if I’d ever get there…

Of course I did get here, five minutes to nine, starving and exhausted. I went straight to Chili’s to fill the tummy then came here to rest the body. I really started asking to have “the lesson” revealed to me in those 6 flats tonight. I’m still not exactly sure what it was but at least, I truly pray, it will act as another McKenzie and I’ll be able to say, “Well at least it’s not as bad as 6 Flats!”

Three highlights of the day: First, as mentioned, encountering the kindness at the Courier-Journal. Second, chatting with Tom while fixing the third flat. Tom was heading home from work when saw me working on the side of the road and stopped to make sure I was alright. He was real nice for stopping and was even nicer for getting out and chatting a bit while I wrapped things up. I also saw he did indeed check out the site when he got home and signed the guestbook. I love when I meet people out here and they take the extra step to go online and learn a little bit more about the trip and everything that’s attached to it. So Thanks Tom! It was great to meet you! Thanks for stopping by and making sure I was in good shape. And the last highlight of the day was the sun just before it set. It was a vibrant orange/pink/magenta color; it reminded me of my sister Janice. Janice likes to collect rubber bouncy super-balls you get out of the gumball machine. The sun looked like a big super-ball tonight, it was pretty nice. Janice is going to be a freshman in high school this fall. My other sister, Christina, just celebrated her 19th birthday this past Saturday, that’s one year away from 20. Everybody’s getting so old; I’m not too sure I like it…

Another little tidbit about Tom is that he has a five-year-old little girl. He told me about how he and his wife have a tandem and they like to hook up the little baby-caboose to it and go for rides as a family. As he told me about his little girl, I thought of another little girl I recently learned of battling CF. One of my new friends, Molly, has a nine-year-old niece who has CF. She sent me a picture of her this morning and my heart broke to think of such a beautiful little girl having to confront such an awful disease. I thought of how fortunate Tom is to have a healthy daughter; I didn’t think to mention it to him, but he seemed like the type of guy who is already well aware of it.

Tomorrow I’ll find the paper, a bike shop, and head out for Mt Sterling. With the off day in Louisville, I’m now slated to hit VA on Saturday, two weeks from the Finish Line!

Day 69: 53.82 Total: 3,229.83

Days 63-67

2005-08-07T21:43:00.000-07:00

August 7, 2005

Tonight I write to you from Louisville, Kentucky! The past few days were quite nice as I was able to skate through two states in five days. The miles are starting to fall away easier and easier the closer I get to home.

Wednesday I left St Louis and crossed the Mississippi into Illinois. I said I was about five miles from my next state; it ended up being a quarter of a mile. I was pleasantly surprised to find I could cross the river on a bridge right next to where I was staying. I got into Illinois and re-entered the world of friendly drivers. The re-entry only heightened my feelings about Missouri; it is truly an enigma. Just as quickly as I entered the little Missouri bubble of hostile daredevil drivers, I crossed the Mississippi and it was gone. As I rode along the little Illinois state road, on my way out of East St Louis, I was almost giddy with joy at the space people allowed me when they passed. I wanted to send them all thank you notes just for being so gracious. It’s funny the little things you take for granted – until you ride through Missouri…

Wednesday was also a great day for getting back to the bliss of not being confined to a set course. I left St Louis headed for one destination. As I felt my way out of East St Louis, I realized I was on course for a new destination. As I changed gears and headed for that little town, I called my Aunt who told me my Great Aunt and Uncle used to live there in Belleville, the town I was about to leave. So as I rode through Belleville, I decided to take a little detour over to Scott Air Force Base and see where Uncle Art was stationed over 35 years ago.

The little detour ended up being a little more than I anticipated, but definitely worth it. I was fortunate enough to spend some time with Uncle Art when I was little, but not nearly as much as I would have liked. From the stories of his brother, my Pop-Pop, he was an incredibly smart, savvy, and charming man. It was a neat feeling to ride around the town he and Ruth lived in so many years ago.

As I passed Scott AFB I saw a sign telling me I was headed for Centralia. I took a quick look at the atlas and decided let that be my final destination for the day. I got into town shortly before dusk, noticed the sun setting a little early than normal, found the town park, picked out a cozy little picnic table, and eventually fell asleep right there in my nasty cycling clothes, at least they were dry by then...

The next morning I woke up a little after 5:30 and went over to Hardee’s for breakfast with The Crew. I’ve come to find every town has their own version of The Crew. The Crew consists of a handful of older gentlemen who meet every morning at their local watering hole to watch the sun rise, read the paper, drink coffee, and solve the world’s problems. The Centralia Crew was very welcoming to me as I strolled in, still wiping the sleep from my eyes. They gave me directions for a new route over to Fairfield that wasn’t on the map, wished me well, and sent me on my way.

I got to Fairfield, my destination for the day around 11 that morning. As I pulled in I thought about covering a little more ground since it was so early. After lunch I swung by the library to hop on the internet and check my mail. As I sat in the library I noticed myself get real sleepy, I thought about taking a little nap there, under the guise of “reading a book,” but decided against it. Still unsure of what to do, I got on the bike and headed back for Main Street. As I rode down the street I saw a sign at a little motel for rooms at $35. I figured it was hot and early enough to get my $35 worth, and called it a day.

The next morning I woke up and headed over to the newspaper before I left. They were very interested in the story and were excited to do a feature in their paper. I swung by Pizza Hut for a little lunch buffet action and headed out of Fairfield. The next town I came to was Albion where I found another warm reception at the local paper. I chatted with Will, one of the reporters, he shot off a few pictures, and I kept on rolling. Two papers in one day, new record..!

Albion was also great for two ladies I met at the grocery store before I left. I didn’t mention it, but I burnt my leg back in St Louis. I was going to take a knee and get low to the ground to take the last picture I posted of St Louis, the one of the dimly lit alley. Steam coming out of one of the manhole covers is what drew my attention to the great scene; it was also what caused the burn. I ended up burning the right side of my leg, between my shin and my calf. At the time, I didn’t think it was as bad as it was but I later realized should have put some ointment or something on it. At least it’s a descent picture. Anyway, I went in the grocery store for some Neosporin and met two nice ladies, sisters. We chatted for a while and they invited me to stay with them that night at their farmhouse that had plenty of extra space. Having only traveled 15 miles and eager to get into Indiana, I graciously declined the invitation. But they were very nice and made me, once again, thankful to be in Illinois – that would have never happened in Missouri…

I stopped in Mt. Caramel for a great BBQ sandwich and Sweet Tea dinner, the first true Sweet Tea of the trip – definitely getting closer to home! – then hustled over the Wabash River to cross into Indiana.

I picked up a flat a half-mile from a motel outside of Princeton, my scheduled stop for the night. I noticed it was a somewhat of a slow leak so I pumped it up as much and as quickly as I could and gunned it over to the motel, either the leak was faster than I thought or I didn’t “gun” it as quick as I should have, I had to stop and put more air in it once more before getting to the Inn. It was that final flat that initiated the August fifth “Love Your Bike Night.”

I think the bike’s almost more ready to cross the Finish Line than I am. Love Your Bike Night was mainly a night of wheel-love. Somewhere along the way I caught a curb or something and put a nice bite into the sidewall of my rear wheel. That morning I noticed a little bubble of the inner tube poking out of that hole. So that night I made a nice custom tire patch of business cards and duct tape, it worked perfectly. I also patched that bite I picked up coming into Princeton and trued my front wheel a bit and got those brakes re-aligned.

Yesterday I got up and headed for English, Indiana. I took my time getting out of Princeton and took an extended break for dinner to call friends and such in Huntingburg; my slack approach to the miles of the day would later catch up with me. My rear tire went flat about ten miles out of Huntingburg. Having no fresh spare tubes, I had to patch it. I ran out of real patches back in Misery, I mean – Missouri, and had to use those old cheap, stick-on jobs I had problems with back in Oregon, to patch the tube the night before in Princeton. So I had a feeling, and wasn’t surprised, to find that cheap patch had given out and needed to be replaced. With sweat literally rolling off me, as if I just stepped out of the shower, I fixed it and got moving again.

I got to English around dusk and didn’t find any descent prospects to crash. I asked some ladies if there was anything up the road and they said there was an old motel 7 or 8 miles down in Morengo. It was getting late, but I decided to try and beat the setting sun and get to Morengo before dark.

I was about a mile out of English and I caught another flat. By this point it was near dark and I wasn’t in the mood for another flat. After a loud roar of frustration, I prayed for calmness and a swift repair. I think my prayer for calmness was answered in two brothers passing by on bikes of their own. They chatted with me as I patched the tire, with my last patch, and offered some distraction from my self-magnified dilemma. I said goodbye to the brothers, rigged up my rear light, and took off for Morengo in the dark.

Thankfully it didn’t take long at all to get to Morengo. I stopped by a gas station for a snack and a drink, found a little elementary school with a nice shelter of picnic tables, and set up camp for the night. It was the first night I gave myself an impromptu baby powder bath before lying down to sleep on another fabulous picnic table, and it was almost as refreshing as taking a real shower – just a little something to keep in mind if you ever find yourself in Morengo with only a bottle of baby powder to kick the funk...

This morning I got up early and got on the road for Kentucky. I was about halfway into the ride when I picked up yet another flat! They really stink. They especially stink when you are out of patches and/or spare tubes. I walked over to a little hardware store that I was amazed to find open at the early hour to see if they would, by any chance, have patches. They didn’t, so I had to improvise a little yet again. I ended up peeling an old patch of an old tube and carefully applying it to the new hole. Amazingly it worked!

I got to Kentucky and Louisville right around 11:30, had a nice lady check me into a place a little early, got ready to bring my bike over to my room, and found my rear tire was flat. The makeshift patch took me right up to the office of the hotel and died right there.

But it feels good to be so close. These past few days I’ve had a bit of tunnel vision, just focused on the end, and little things keep reminding me I’m getting closer. The sweet tea, dancing with interstate 64 since St Louis, being in the eastern time zone again, finally: they’re just small examples of the little reminders. Portions of the ride yesterday and today also reminded me of Virginia with their nice, lush hills of densely packed trees.

Today I also had my first real, great down since coming off Hoosier-Daddy. It was a mile and a half stretch down into New Albany, right on the Indiana-Kentucky border. It was a great winding road with a 5-7% down grade and reminded me of a lot of great moments of riding from the trip. The first thing it reminded me of the great down coming out of Grangeville. That’s still maybe the best one of the trip. It felt good to remember how nice the bike felt weaving in and out of those turns, as if we were sliding down a great silk carpet. It reminded me McKenzie, the hill coming out of Redmond, the ride into New Meadows, just so many things and all the things attached to those things. It became a little retrospective of the trip and reminded me of how fortunate I am to have created all those great memories and images for myself.

It really has been an amazing ride. And even as excited as I am to cross into VA and push to the Finish Line, I am a bit sad that it is drawing to a close. It seems like last summer that I flew out to Oregon to begin this trip, but at the same time, somehow, the trip has flown by at an incredible rate; it also feels like just last week I said goodbye to Chris & Chaz, and now they’re already home regrouping before they head off to school.

Well, if you’ve successfully read down to this point of the entry, congratulate yourself for completing your own test of endurance. Hopefully you’ve enjoyed my rambling account of the past few days. I’ll draw it to a close for now and wish you all a great week ahead. According to the timeline I just laid out a while ago, my week will culminate in crossing into VA on Friday - what a great day that will be!

Day 63: 68.99
Day 64: 55.04
Day 65: 49.24
Day 66: 79.11
Day 67: 39.82 Total: 3,176.01

2005-08-07T21:40:00.000-07:00

One last look at St Louis from above the Mississippi

2005-08-07T21:38:00.000-07:00

2005-08-07T21:37:00.000-07:00

2005-08-07T21:36:00.001-07:00

2005-08-07T21:36:00.000-07:00

2005-08-07T21:34:00.000-07:00

2005-08-07T21:33:00.000-07:00

Get up, we'll rest when we get there.

2005-08-07T21:32:00.000-07:00

One of 16 Drive-In movie theaters left in the country, or so I'm told...

2005-08-07T21:30:00.000-07:00

Crossing the Ohio River into Kentucky

2005-08-07T21:29:00.000-07:00

Days 56-62

2005-08-02T16:15:00.000-07:00

August 2, 2005

Well, I’m about five miles from completing my seventh state, Missouri. With a total of only three riding days, it’ll be the quickest state I’ve crossed.

Thursday morning I struggled to wake up in the Carver basement. It was so dark down there I could have slept all day. I went up stairs and had a great pancake breakfast with the family, compliments of Marc, and then got ready to get on the road and head down to the Kansas City Star. We pulled out of the Carver driveway 5 cyclists strong.

Tammy and the kids enjoyed a short ride send off with Marc and I before we broke from them and headed downtown. We arrived at the Star and went in to find a reporter and found, once again, we got there as everyone had broke for lunch. I decided to go get a little lunch myself while I waited for the crew to get back and Marc decided to head back home. I thanked Marc again for all the kindness he and his family showed me, said goodbye to him, and ate lunch at a cool little BBQ place.

When I got back to the Star I talked with Jesse Barker on the phone from the security booth downstairs. Jesse is one of the editors and told me he couldn’t find a reporter just then, but if I stuck around ‘til tomorrow he’d surely be able to get on the story then. I made sure he would be able to line that up and agreed to hang around. Five minutes earlier, I finalized plans to meet Libby in St. Louis on Sunday; a perfectly timed itinerary, given I get on the road that afternoon after talking with the Star. Killing a day in Kansas City would mean I’d have to break Missouri down into three rides and cover more ground a day, but that was okay, I’d be reaching a huge market through the Star. I hung up the phone and went outside to call my mom. As I was on the phone with her a guy walked over to me as if he knew me. He said he was the voice on the other end of the phone a minute ago and wanted to come down and let me know he wasn’t just blowing me off, I thought that was very nice of him. I had my cousin find a cheap motel and give me directions and made my way over to my lodging for the night.

It ended up being a somewhat productive unplanned off day, I was able to knock out some work I had been putting off, namely the new “Finish Line” page on the website. If you haven’t already, go to the 4pedals.com home page and click the link to the party page. It outlines all that’s going to be happening the day I get back and everyone’s invited! I really would love to see everyone that’s been so excited and supportive of the trip. And those that I’ve met only through exchange of emails as well, it would be great to meet you guys too. I think it really is going to be a great night and it would be really cool to see everyone there. So check it out and make plans to be there!

Friday I got up and called Mr. Barker in regard to meeting and having a story put in the paper. He definitely remembered me and said he meant to call me yesterday. After we spoke that afternoon, he spoke with another editor who told him it wasn’t uncommon to have cross-country cyclists come through. He said they’ve already done a few stories on the topic and he they wouldn’t be able to help out this time. I was pretty bummed, especially after taking the day off the day before to stick around. But I didn’t dwell on it, I just went over to IHOP to drown my sorrows in a nice international omelet and got on the road.

Now having to hustle to get to St Louis by Sunday, I went about 80 miles Friday to get to Sadalia. I got my first taste of Missouri madness on the way to Sadalia, it got worse the following day on the ride to Jefferson City.

Missouri has been the hardest state to ride in, mentally as well as logistically. The roads have little to no shoulders, they’re laden with never-ending hills, and the drivers in Missouri have been the worst of the trip. Those driving trucks were the worst. Not only would they buzz by me, testing their ability to get as close as possible, they’d honk as they pass, adding to their outpouring display of class and generosity. It was very frustrating and made for a few long rides.

I made it to Jefferson City in the early evening of Saturday night. I found a Chili’s right on the west edge of town and stopped for dinner and directions. The servers told me about Katy Trail, an old rail line that has been converted to a bike trail, which goes all the way to St Louis. It also followed along state road 94 should I find the trail a bit cumbersome, so I headed over to give it a shot. The manager said he didn’t think it was “paved” like I would think and he was right. It was a firmly packed dirt trail with a layer of finely ground limestone on top. It wasn’t the most ideal riding conditions, but it wasn’t too terrible either, so I decided to give it a test ride to Tebbetts, 12 miles down, and camp there that night.

With the road running right beside the trail, it seemed silly to stay on it and coat the bike in dust and debris; it didn’t take long to hop back on the road and take 94 into Tebbetts. When I got there I saw the little town had a bike hostel set up for those on the trail. I spoke with a neighbor who showed me to the key, let myself in, got settled, and enjoyed a night of free lodging courtesy of the local townsfolk. It was a nice stay in Tebbetts. I was very pleased to find the unexpected accommodations. The only downside of the stay in Tebbetts was waking up to find someone had stolen my helmet.

I am partly to blame for the crime but I still can’t believe someone would have taken it, especially from in front of a bike hostel. Right when I got there, as I was reading the info on the door and trying to figure how things worked, I took off my helmet and set in on the bench right outside. As I was pulling my bike inside and getting settled, I remember seeing it on the bench and thinking, “Oh yeah, I need to grab that.” That was the last time I saw it. I spent 15 minutes the next morning looking for it; it was definitely taken. It was a good helmet, it will be missed. I pray its new owners are treating it nicely and giving it all the love and attention it received in the many miles we shared together. Now a moment of silence, please.

Thank you.

I pulled out of Tebbetts Sunday morning and got on the road, less one helmet, destination: St. Louis. It was a tough ride. I bounced back and forth between the road and the trail, I got two flat tires in the process, I didn’t have anything to eat besides some beef jerky, animal crackers, and Lance crackers, and the frustration of just still being in Missouri continued to weigh on me. I called my friend Libby at the first pay phone I came across to discuss our plans for meeting in St Louis and was excited to hear we were relatively close.

I cannot tell a lie. I ended up meeting Libby a few miles outside of St Louis and riding into the city with her. It was great to see her and her cute pup Lucy. We met at a McDonald’s right off I-70. We worked a little magic and managed to squeeze the horse in the car, I went in a grabbed a value meal to-go, and we took off in her candy-apple coach bound for St Louis.

It felt great to jump in the Grand Am and fly down to the city. It was the second time I caught a ride and was much longer than the first, but I felt no guilt in taking it. The excitement of getting to see a friend from home and hang out with her, paired with the anxiousness to get out of Missouri more than compensated for any thoughts of “cheating” trying to sway my decision of taking the ride. We had a great night of hanging out and catching each other up on our summers and all that’s been going on.

Yesterday I took a planned off day to enjoy a bit of St Louis and go to a Cardinals’ game that night. Yesterday was also great in that I was able to get behind the wheel of a car for the first time since leaving VA. It was so much fun; I felt like I was on a ride, it was great. Libby’s car is fun to drive anyway, but not driving in 60-plus days makes it really fun. We went to a mall in one of the nearby suburbs where I got a much-needed haircut, went out for lunch, and swung by a Sports Authority to pick up a new helmet for my fragile dome.

That night I got to visit Busch Stadium for the first and last time in my life and watched the Marlins beat the Cardinals. Next year the Cardinals will play in a new park, so it was cool to get to visit old Busch before they tear it down. It was a fun night. We sat next to Marty from Utah and his two buddies, and in front of Liz, Steph, and the two Jens, we all had a fun time. After telling the girls behind us about my trip and flashing them some tan line insanity, they lovingly renamed and referred to Libby and I “Lance” and “Cheryl.”

Today I decided to take another day off in St Louis. I wasn’t ready to get back on the road this morning. It’s been good to spend the day hanging out and taking care of a few little details before getting back at it tomorrow, plus I’m still a head of schedule and have a little time to kill.

But I am looking forward to the last stretch. This is the last little pit stop party before I get to the Atlantic on the 27th. I’m feeling good and ready for the last push to the finish line. The Finish Line that will crowded with friends and family to help celebrate, right..? Awesome.

Day 56: 54
Day 57: 55
Day 58: 28.90
Day 59: 80.83
Day 60: 80.52
Day 61: 46.11 Total: 2,883.81

2005-08-02T16:13:00.000-07:00

The kind Carvers

2005-08-02T16:12:00.000-07:00

Kansas City, Missouri - State #7

2005-08-02T16:11:00.000-07:00

A local artist outside the Kansas City Star

2005-08-02T16:10:00.000-07:00

The scene of the crime...

2005-08-02T16:08:00.000-07:00

St Louis, finally!

2005-08-02T16:07:00.000-07:00

Stop looking at the flash..!

2005-08-02T16:05:00.000-07:00

Whoa, easy Hollywood..!

2005-08-02T16:03:00.000-07:00

Wish you were here..!

2005-08-02T15:56:00.000-07:00

Some St Louis Love...

2005-08-02T15:55:00.000-07:00

Day 57

2005-07-27T21:18:00.000-07:00

July 27, 2005

Tonight I write to you from the basement of the kind Carver family in Kansas City, Kansas. It was another beautiful day finished off by great hospitality of new friends.

I got up, went to Spangles, a little 50’s style fast food diner, for an early lunch, and made my way over to the Topeka Capital-Journal. Unfortunately, I arrived as the newsroom had gone for lunch. I went over to McDonald’s for a little McDessert, Flurry-style, to kill time while I waited for the reporters to get back from lunch. When I returned I was able to speak to Hal, one of the reporters, who was very interested in the trip. We chatted a while and found that all the photographers were now out of the office as well. I hung around a while until they came back and let them fire off a few pictures before getting on the road. It was close to 4 by the time I finally got on the road. I wasn’t too upset by getting out so late, I was very thankful that they were interested in the trip and willing to do a story on it.

It was another great day to ride again. It was in the low 70s with scattered clouds and the wind was very kind. It’s amazing how big a factor the weather plays in determining your morale for the day. Today it was invigorating. It felt like one of those early spring days that carries all the promises of summer; it was great. The only bummer was a flat about a third of the way into the ride. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long to fix and I got back on the road pretty quickly.

I got inside Kansas City and called upon my Dad again to lead me to some shelter. I was still atleast 5 miles from the closest option, but we came up with a plan and I headed for it. I was en route to my stop for the night when I came upon a guy in a cycling jersey standing in a parking lot watching me roll up. Heading home from a day ride of his own, he had passed me and stopped to ask about the tandem. We chatted briefly of the trip and the tandem. When I told him how I was headed to the little motel up the road for the night he said I could stay at his house if I wanted to. Having learned my lesson from the last kind offer of friendly lodging, I thankfully took him up on it.

I followed the directions over to his house and was greeted by the rest of his family. Marc and Tammy, with their two children, Adam and Rachael, welcomed me into their home as if I were one of their own. They let me use their shower, fed me, washed some of my clothes, worked out a plan to get me down to the paper tomorrow – Marc’s going ride down with me and show me the way on his bike – Marc even fixed my bike computer after dinner for me. I couldn’t have asked for a better night. What a great surprise.

Now, as I said, I sit in their basement which doubles as an amazing studio and processing lab for Marc’s photography business. A while ago I got a little lesson in developing as I was able to witness he and his two best little helpers in action, before it was the little helpers' bedtime.

Thank you again guys! I’ve enjoyed meeting and spending time with you in your home. Thanks for everything!

I continue to be blessed by little, and huge, random acts of kindness such as tonight. Even meeting with Hal and having him receive the trip with such open ears was a great gift; Topeka is the largest market to feature the trip thus far. I’m looking forward to tomorrow and enjoying a little time in Kansas City before heading out after lunch. It was nice riding around Topeka a bit while I killed time waiting for the reporters to get back from lunch, I’m hoping to get the same little taste of Kansas City tomorrow. It’s supposed to be a little warmer tomorrow, but nothing like the days I’ve had. So hopefully I’ll be able to take my time without dying in the hot heat of the afternoon hours on the ride tomorrow. As always, I’ll let you know how it goes…

Day 56

2005-07-26T21:24:00.000-07:00

July 26, 2005

Today was, by all traditional standards, a nasty, rainy day. However, I found it to be a beautiful reprieve from the heat that has plagued the past few days of the trip.

I got up and saw it was rainy and cool outside and figured I could take my time in getting on the road. After a stop by McDonald’s for lunch, I got on the road around 1.

It really was a nasty day. It was the first rain day since riding into West Yellowstone, and that seems like forever ago. Time has really flown by. The other day, while updating the journal, I couldn’t believe I was already at “Day 50.” It’s almost over. Part of me is, of course, extremely excited by that and part of me is pretty sad by that as well.

But anyway, I was able to enjoy the return to the rain and it’s coolness for the better part of the ride. There were a few times that it became more of a struggle than I would have liked, but overall, it was a fun ride. I got to town and was guided into Topeka by my Dad who got online and became my second pair of eyes.

My cousin David also called while I was on the road to let me know the article ran successfully in the Clay Center Dispatch. If you wish, you can read the article by clicking here.

I have been touched by all the recent notes in the guestbook. Many have been left by families directly related to CF in a real and personal way. I thank you all of you who have left such kind and encouraging words. I am trying my best to tell our story and spread the word of this awful disease we all know too well.

From what I gather, this experience continues to be a wonderful circle of hope and encouragement. You tell me of how encouraged you are by the journey and how you enjoy reading and participating in it and, in turn, I get encouraged and inspired by hearing of the courageous battles continuing to be fought with CF in the hearts and bodies of your amazing children.

It’s so easy to forget how fortunate most of us are. We so often get caught up in the day-to-day tasks of life and fail to recognize the small miracles we take for granted. The miracle of health, just being able to wake up every morning and complain about the heat without having to complete 45 minutes of therapeutic treatments beforehand. The miracle of friends and family. The next time you get upset with someone close to you ask yourself how much you love them before you act out on the frustration – we waste so much time fighting over the trivial details of life. Why not be thankful for and embrace those close to you; delight in your differences. Life is too short. Stop and take a picture of a flower. Then develop that picture, frame it, and give it to someone you haven’t spoken to in a while.

Last fall, while I was teaching at Catholic High in VA Beach (Go CHS!) we watched and discussed the film Dead Poets Society. One of the most obvious points in the film is “carpe diem,” seize the day. I think I got more out of the lesson than the kids did, I hope not, but I think so. As the bell rang and the kids scurried to gather their belongings and race out the door, I challenged them again by telling them to do something that day that scared them. As we discussed in the 50 minutes prior, I was alluding to something along the lines of telling someone how much they appreciated them, or giving one of their parents an unprompted hug... As they left I seriously hoped none of them decided to set their hair on fire and jump off any roofs.

Fear can be a wonderful thing, especially in letting your senses know you’re still alive. I got a huge dose of fear as I stood at the top of that cliff a few weeks ago. I didn’t tell anyone, but I counted it a small celebration of life for myself; celebrating the opportunity to experience fear and the indescribable reward of completing the jump.

I guess I just say all that to say, I recognize how precious life is. And when I hear of a ten year old fighting a horrible monster like CF with the courage and determination of a soldier it just blows me away. It’s incredible to think of how strong and resilient the unbreakable spirit of a child can be. I don’t think I knew it at first, but I saw it long ago in Stephen and I know the same spirit lives in the hearts of the countless young adults battling all kinds of disease, not just CF.

Life is good, be thankful for yours.

Days 52-55

2005-07-26T00:02:00.000-07:00

July 25, 2005

Hello from Manhattan, Kansas. I hope everyone is enjoying the comforts of their air conditioning as you read and get your fill of this continuing cross-country cycling goodness. The heat continues to make thing interesting out here; I’ve actually found it to be quite inconvenient. It affects everything.

We are sometimes faced with obstacles in life whose battles, if we are fortunate enough, may be waged with a sense of nobility. The trip has held a few such obstacles in the form of some of the hills back west. There were times when I’d be slowly sweating my way up a long road and a car with a bike rack would pass with a guy at the wheel fanatically giving me a thumb up as he passed. What an incredible, anonymous shot of confidence. With one small gesture I’d all at once be filled with an overwhelming sense of self-assuredness, reminded of all the support back home, and fueled with the energy to scale the pass and the next stretch of road after. And then, while now tackling the road ahead, I’d envision all the images of cyclists I’ve seen pounding their way up a hill and view the test as a rite of passage of sorts.

These days, there is a touch of nobility felt in the war being waged against the intense heat. However, unlike the passing, random shots of support found in the western mountains, the current locals do nothing to reinforce that feeling. In fact, the overwhelming assumed sensibility prompting my self-induced sweatfest is stupidity.

Long gone are the chance thumbs up by the passing cars. They have been replaced with raised eyebrows and concerned comments like: “Little hot to be doing that isn’t it..?” At times I begin to question my own sense of logic. No, more than questioning my sense of reasoning, I simply begin to question when it will end.

As I said, it affects everything. “Everything” only being the three or four elements of this simplified life of crossing the country by bike, but “everything” nonetheless. Let me quickly fill you in on the past few days.

After I wrote my last entry on the 21st back in Hoxie, a nice lady in a Blazer stopped to ask about “4pedals.com.” She saw the best bicycle billboard ever and stopped to inquire. Once we got to talking she told me she wasn’t just being nosey, she’s a reporter for the Colby newspaper. I gave her the scoop on the journey and the events leading up to it, she took a few pictures, and everyone was happy. She said she’d put together a little story and have it run in the Colby paper. Thank you Jan for being inquisitive enough to stop and ask about the bike, as well as do a little story on it.

The night in the Hoxie city park wasn’t bad at all. Other than the manmade daylight cast by the excessive amount of streetlights, the heat wasn’t too bad and I had a rather nice rest. I successfully got up to a nice early start as planned; I was on the road shortly after 7.

The ride that morning was the most peaceful of the trip. The picture I posted above Day 51 is of that morning; it’s one of the few pictures that manages to capture a sense of the real thing. I felt like I crept out of Hoxie as quietly as possible, so as not to wake anyone. The golden sun was just beginning to stretch through the clouds and warm the rolling hills I found east of town. On the road you could smell the morning coolness still coming from the damp wooded groves tucked away off to the side. It was one of the most peaceful scenes I’ve ever experienced, let alone the trip itself. As I said, I was pleasantly surprised to find nice rolling hills coming out of Hoxie. Not only were they not flat, they featured variety of natural vegetation unlike the Kansas roads I traveled the days prior. The land was still marked off like a sprawling quilt, only now between the contrasting patches of terrain were thin rows and clusters of trees scattered about. It reminded me of how I expect Tuscany to be. At times I’d allow myself to imagine I was already there, riding through the countryside. All it needed was a vineyard or two with handful of workers out pruning the vines…

It didn’t take long for the cool morning to give way to the dry heat of the early afternoon hours. I had planned on going Osborne that day, but with the intense heat and the word of heavy construction, I decided to stay in Stockton for the night. And yes, as you may have guessed, it didn’t take long for me to dive back into the motels.

It was only 3:30 when I decided to stay in Stockton. I had already killed close to two hours at the city pool, enough to burn the front and back of by upper body, and had a good 3 hours left of the intense heat. I didn’t want to get all sweaty again by hanging out at the park waiting for nightfall, so I dropped $25 to check into a little motel and spend the rest of the night in the AC – well worth it.

The next day was a full day of heat on the ride to Beloit. Nothing too exciting happened other than a late start followed by a late arrival, but it was a kind an intentional late start. Another problem with the heat: you get to your destination too early and have nothing to do in the small town except hang out in the shade and wait for dusk. I figured I’d take my time in getting to Beloit since knew there wouldn’t be anything waiting for me when I got there anyway. After a long ride and a lot of sweat I finally got to the Beloit Dairy Queen where I was greeted by a lovely Mint Oreo Blizzard.

Yesterday I made my way to Clay Center. Yesterday I began to get a little tired of the hills I gladly welcomed a few short days ago. Between the heat, the hills, and the long stretch without services, it was a long day. Thankfully my music helps cut up some of the madness that easily creeps in when battling so many variables.

Four miles outside of Clay Center I got a flat. I drained the last of my water 5 – 10 miles earlier and was already pushing to get to town to quench the rest of my thirst. It would have been a hard struggle to fix the flat in the heat of the sun without water or shade. So, for the first time, I walked back to the house I had just passed a quarter mile back, knocked on the door, and asked if I could steel some water. The lady kindly obliged, questioned my judgment for riding in the unrelenting heat, and wished me well.

As I was changing out the inner tube, three people stopped and asked if I was alright; everyone was right, people are really nice out here in Kansas. One guy who stopped even filled up one of my bottles with Ice Cold, great tasting, French water. I don’t know if it was French, but it was amazing.

I got to town, filled up at Pizza Hut, and turned down the best offer of the trip. After I ate, I asked a nice couple if they knew of a park I could camp for the night. They gave me a few ideas and we chatted a bit. As I was paying, the wife came up to me and said I could camp at their house, and actually, just stay in their extra bedroom. I asked if they were sure and she said absolutely, they just live 12 miles up the road. I thanked them very much but told them I’d be fine riding up to the park a few blocks away. If they were nearby I would have probably taken them up on it, and I’m sure they would have given me a ride in their truck I’m sure they had, but I didn’t want to be an inconvenience. It turned out to be a big mistake.

Last night was the worst night I’ve had in a long time. It was a warm night and I stupidly set up my tent in the worst place for air. I had a little washcloth I used to wipe the sweat away while I lay as still as possible, trying to cool down. I could hear the wind blowing the trees around me and thought about moving to a better vantage point. When the rain drops started to come I made that move. I threw the fly on the tent, waterproofed my gear, grabbed my sleeping pad, left everything, and headed to the picnic shelter at the top of the hill. It was a rather well-lit area with houses nearby. As I lay on a picnic table in the middle of the little community with my little mat, I came to know the difference between “camping” and just plain homeless.

It was a bad night. I ended up moving again to another shelter in a less conspicuous area where I became an all night buffet for the winged beasts of the night. After two hard fought naps on that picnic table, I ended up going back to the tent around 2:30. Thankfully the little shower had cooled things off, but it was still a bit of a struggle to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. I was tempted to pack up and head for Manhattan right then, but just the thought of that made me tired. So I went with it and kept thinking of all the things I’d have to do to get on the road until I fell asleep…

Today I got up and thanked God I made it through the night. I got everything together and went on a hunt for breakfast. I asked a lady in town where I could find a bite to eat and she told me I should swing by the paper before I left so they could do a story. Of course, I thought that was a great idea and followed her advice. The news editor interviewed me, took a few pictures, and said he’d run a story for me. Thank you to all the kind folks I encountered in and around Clay Center for your kind hospitality.

I got to Manhattan, found the town paper, The Mercury, thanks to a little research from David, and went in to chat. A nice reporter sat down, took some notes about what I was doing, and said she’d fill her news editor in tomorrow. She said she’s the one who decided which stories to run. She was very nice and said, although she couldn’t make any promises, she’d see what she could do.

As expected, after my fun night last night, I didn’t have the energy to go to Topeka as I had hoped. So, once again, I checked into another fabulous Motel 6 and took a 2-hour nap. I got up, did some Much Needed laundry, got some groceries, and hung out with some good fried chicken. I also decided to re-wrap my handlebars. The tape had gotten pretty worn up top and I figured I could rotate it and get a refreshed, more comfortable, grip on the bars. I did that and it looks and feels great. However, in doing so, I had to take off my bike computer beforehand and remount it after. Well, I remounted it with two zip-ties and was trimming off the excess zip-tie with my pocketknife when I accidentally snipped the wire of my computer. I figured I could strip the wires and twist them together and wrap them with electrical tape, but the wires are too delicate to work with. In short, I killed my computer. I’m pretty bummed, but what are ya gonna do..?

So that’s how life’s been the past few days. Tomorrow I’ll get to Topeka and Wednesday I be in Kansas City. I’m looking forward to the days to come. Evidently there’s supposed to be a cool front coming through tomorrow too, we’ll see just how “cool” it is…

Day 52: 67.42
Day 53: 74.78
Day 54: 58.09
Today: 45.29 Total: 2,538.45

**And now without my computer, that’s the last of the “official mileage." I guess it doesn’t really matter. As long as I get home, that’s all that counts…

2005-07-26T00:01:00.000-07:00

Somebody Google Mr. Stover and tell me where I took that...

2005-07-25T23:59:00.000-07:00

Eveybody's famous for something I guess...

2005-07-25T23:57:00.000-07:00

The ghost town that is Cawker City...

2005-07-25T23:55:00.000-07:00

This was a real lake, not a reservior, somewhere... But it was great. It had little waves, wanna-be seagulls, everything...

2005-07-25T23:53:00.000-07:00

One for Collin...

2005-07-25T23:51:00.000-07:00

One of the Kansas State University buildings here in Manhattan.

2005-07-22T19:13:00.000-07:00

Take me home, Baby! Show me the way...

Day 51

2005-07-22T19:09:00.000-07:00

July 21, 2005

Well today was another hot, hot day. I got off to another late start and rode right in the heat of the day’s death zone.

I patched that flat in the rear tire last night and was going to put it on the bike this morning before taking off. As I was pumping it up this morning I snapped the pin inside the valve; as you may remember, this isn’t the first time I’ve done this. Consequently, all the air I had put in the tire came pouring out as soon as I took off the pump. Having no spare tube, I feared I was in real trouble.

I looked in the phone book for a bike shop and found none. After five minutes of thinking how I could get a tube mailed to me, I decided to look in the other phone book for the surrounding counties. In that phone book I found a shop within a mile’s walk.

I walked over to where the shop was supposed to be and asked a lady if she knew where I could find it. She informed me the shop had recently moved and was now on the other side of town. She also said she’d give me a ride over if I wanted. Of course, I graciously accepted. She gave me a ride over to the shop, waited while I bought the four tubes, and took me back to my bike at the motel. It was incredibly nice of her; and Michelle, I thank you again!

Once I got the new tube in and everything ready to roll out, it was approaching noon. I knew it’d be a hot ride but figured it’d be a short one and I could deal with it. It was close to 1 when I finished lunch and got on the road. After a stop by Wal-Mart for a jug of Gatorade to put in my bottles, I was off.

Like every other ride in the heat, the sun quickly heated my bottled fluids for the day. Today I’d have Passion Fruit Hot Herbal Tea by Gatorade to get me to Hoxie. It wasn’t the best, but it was 100 times better than the plain hot water. The heat was intense but thankfully I had a nice crosswind trying to keep me cool, it was the first time I was thankful for a crosswind. But even with the wind, at times it was unbearable.

At one point I notice one of those long irrigation systems in the distance. I immediately thought of how great it would be if it were running and said a little prayer that it would be. Thankfully, it was running! I parked my bike, took off my helmet and gloves, and went down for a nice cooling little roadside shower. It was great! As I was walking back to the bike a nice older man going the other direction in an oversized pickup slowed and asked if I was alright. I told him I was just cooling off a bit and he offered me some water. I thanked him but told him I was in good shape. With a tip of his hat, he told me to stay cool and road off.

I was pretty set after that refreshing romp through the artificial rain in the field. I did have to stop frequently to rest and take a few sips of my afternoon tea, but I made it. I pulled into town, got a nice tall ICED tea at a convenience store, and asked directions to the public pool.

For $1.50 I got to enjoy the refreshing waters of the Hoxie Municipal Pool with a host of other children trying to beat the summer heat. It was quite the reward for surviving the ride. After an hour and a half of summertime fun, I went back to Main Street for a bite to eat.

I went to Short Stop, a small little café, and enjoyed a nice chat with two older locals while I waited for my chicken fried steak. They were nice folks and gave me directions to a better park than the one I was headed for to camp for the night. As the man finished his coffee and got up to leave, he slid a five under my plate and asked if that would help the cause. I told him it would indeed and thanked him very much. Even more Kansas Kindness…

I ate my dinner and made my way over to the park; they were right, it is very nice. I even have a nice wind blowing, keeping things as cool as they can be. I really have nothing else to do tonight. I’m hoping to be asleep shortly after dusk and wake up pretty early. I’m going close to a hundred miles tomorrow to Osbourne. I’m hoping to get there by 1 and avoid the heat all together, or as much as possible…

Today: 39.58 Total: 2,292.87

2005-07-22T18:57:00.000-07:00

A newly chilled cyclist enjoying the brief cooldown at his favorite roadside water park.

2005-07-22T18:54:00.000-07:00

Night closing in on the Hoxie carnival

Day 50

2005-07-20T20:20:00.000-07:00

July 20, 2005

Today I got out much earlier and was able to avoid the afternoon heat. I got up at 6 and went for breakfast and was on the road before 8. It was a nice morning of riding. I was able to average just under 20 mph on the ride to Colby. I knew I was moving along pretty quickly, but I didn’t think I deserved to be pulled over by the state patrol…

I was halfway to Colby when Officer Byron, true story, slowly passed in the other direction and motioned to stop as he turned around to chat. I guess it doesn’t matter what I drive, I still manage to attract attention from the boys in blue. He asked me if I came from Colorado and told me I wasn’t allowed to ride on the interstates in Kansas. I told him I was looking to get off as soon as I found the option and he gave me directions to get off and keep moving east. He was a nice guy and asked about the tandem, chatted about my pedals and how they play on the knees and such. I gave him my card, told him to check out the site, thanked him, and went on my way. Still making friends…

I got off the interstate and finished my ride to Colby. And I can’t keep mentioning “Colby” without telling everybody about my favorite crazy jack-russell terrier, Colby. Ever since I started seeing the signs for Colby yesterday, I haven’t been able to keep the loveable pup out of my head. He’s like the hyper kid in school who always drove everybody nuts but was incredibly smart and had a ton of potential… That’s Colby. He’s my friend Leslie’s dog and is the coolest in Richmond; just ask him to put on his “Doggles”...

I got into town and drove around while I made my way for lunch. As I was riding around I saw a nice park to set up camp for the night. I was planning on going to Hoxie, but decided to hang around here since I had the time. I ate and walked over to check out the movie times at the nearby movie theater. I was going to beat the afternoon heat with another matinee in the AC. I was bummed to find they’re only open on Fridays and Saturdays. I heatedly screamed, “IT’S SUMMER, PEOPLE!!!” to the empty building and went back to the bike. I muscled the bike from its parking spot and realized I had a flat rear tire as I got on it to head up the road.

I really wasn’t looking forward to patching the tire on the side of the road in the sweltering afternoon heat. With that being the immediate situation, and the promise of my 2-hour movie cool down being stripped from me, I decided to walk into the Motel 6, conveniently located 100 yards away, and check out their rates.

I have decided to make a valiant effort to make this the second to last hotel I check into. I’m sure Libby and I will split a motel when we meet somewhere around St. Louis. Other than that, I am committing myself to camping out from here out, or at least, just no more motels. And I’m making it official by putting it in the journal, adding some accountability… We’ll see what happens…

Today: 44.27 Total: 2,253.29

Ps.
I was only kidding, there was no screaming outside the theater…

2005-07-20T20:13:00.000-07:00

2005-07-20T20:12:00.000-07:00

Fun times...

2005-07-20T20:10:00.000-07:00

Getting closer...

2005-07-20T20:09:00.000-07:00

2005-07-20T20:08:00.000-07:00

Day 49

2005-07-20T20:04:00.000-07:00

July 19, 2005

Today was incredibly hot.

I got out and rolling around 11, much later than I should have; lesson learned. I decided to have a banana and ride the 16 miles to Burlington for my real meal of the morning. I got to Burlington hot, thirsty, and ready for the AC.

The heat throws everything off physically, it’s really important to get an early start to avoid as much of the heat as possible. I went to McDonald’s in Burlington and got a super-sized value meal. The first thing I went for was the drink machine to fill up my super-sized bucket of Coke. It didn’t take long to go through the bucket and, stupidly, a refill. Of course, the insane amount of Coke made me sick and gave me a nice cramp to work through before getting back out to the bike.

I hung out and let my stomach work itself out a bit and went back out into the heat. Before I left for the trip, my friend Jeff, who knew what I’d be up against, told me to think of him when I had to take a nice hot swig of water from my bottle on a blazin hot day. I thought a lot of him today; it’s awful. Before I left McDonald’s I refilled all my water and even put ice in it. I wasn’t 5 miles down the road before the ice had melted, and no more than 12 miles down before it was nice and warm again. I just tell myself it’s some kind of really bad weak herbal tea that I have to drink. And it works; I manage to drink it. But between the warmth of the water, the great plastic flavor added by the bottle – now intensified by the heat, and the headache you’re already fighting, the water almost acts against you and makes you want to stop drinking it. It was a hot day.

I ended up pulling into Goodland and calling it a day, that was enough for me. I also vowed to get up and out much earlier tomorrow…

Today: 51.00 Total: 2,202.29

2005-07-20T20:02:00.000-07:00

2005-07-20T20:01:00.000-07:00

Number 6!!!

2005-07-20T20:00:00.000-07:00

The first town after the Kansas/Colorado state line.

Day 48

2005-07-19T00:09:00.000-07:00

July 18, 2005

Today is another one of those days where the morning of which seems like forever ago. But of course it wasn’t, it was this morning.

Today I woke up feeling sick to my stomach. This isn’t the first time this has happened recently, but hopefully it’s the last. I had planned on getting up early and updating the journal, but due to the nausea I decided to eat a little something and, hopefully, rest the tummy to recovery.

Still not completely over the sick stomach, I got on the road a little after noon and was thankful for the great day I had to ride. It was in the lower 80’s and had not a cloud in the sky. Right off the bat I was posed with a choice I still hadn’t answered for myself. I could either, take interstate 70 east out of Limon, or take state road 40 “east” out of town but actually southeast in true direction. In taking 40 I would have added another 20 miles or so in climbing back up north to cross 70 down the road. Plus, there was a strong wind coming out of the south that would have smacked me head-on. As you can gather, I chose to take I-70 out of Limon.

It wasn’t bad at all. As I made my way to the interstate, I did so with the intention of checking it out and heading back for 40 if the shoulder didn’t look too good. But I found I had 10-12 feet worth of a shoulder to work with and the traffic wasn’t bad at all. The only slight bummer was the cross wind coming at me from the south. I’ve been told that’s how it is the length of Kansas, so I figured I’d better get used to it. And it was ten times more manageable than the headwind the day before.

Not feeling the best, I wasn’t sure how far toward Burlington, the scheduled stop, I was headed. As I got pedaling I slowly worked out whatever was bothering me and felt better. I went about 40 miles and thought about calling it a day. Instead, I ate a Snickers for Manny, drank a Gatorade and kept plugging along.

The girl at the gas-station told me the towns along this stretch are ten miles apart because that’s how far the train could go back in the old days before it needed water again; cool little fact. So it was comforting to know I had options before locking myself into Burlington, 50 miles away. I ended up getting 16 shy of Burlington. I’m in Stratton. Tomorrow I’ll pass Burlington and head into Kansas. It’ll be good to get to another state.

The mental challenge of the trip has started to weigh on me. I can’t really describe how I feel at this juncture, but it’s definitely different. It’s not necessarily a decidedly good or bad feeling, it’s just blah… I feel like I’ve subconsciously underestimated, or even denied that I was actually and only half way. Like I was somehow expecting to be on the home stretch and coast the rest of the way, when, in actuality, I was truly only half way. I’m not concerned about the feeling; I know it will pass. A huge part of it is just getting on the bike every day again and re-establishing my rhythm, mentally, as well as physically. As I said before, I feel like I’ve been on a vacation from the trip and the bike. I’m finding the “vacation” is more difficult to recover from mentally than physically.

Other than that, I’m on pace and in good shape for the rest of the trip. The next mark to meet is St. Louis. I’m meeting Libby, a good friend of mine, there on the first of August. It’ll be good to see her and hang out before the final push to the Atlantic.

“The Atlantic”… It has become my Mecca. I long to see it, I dream of bathing in it… I’m joking, but I’m serious.

Two nights ago I couldn’t sleep because I was busy thinking. Thinking of all kinds of things: the first half of the trip, people I had met, sights I had seen, lessons I had learned. And then I calmed down a bit and was able to relax when I started thinking of what it’ll be like to finally get to the finish line – and that got things going all over again. I was camping that night. I turned off the lamp and put away the atlas around 9:30. It was 12:15 when I looked at the clock to see how much time I had killed with the restless thought.

Up to this point I’ve done a pretty good job of keeping the thoughts of the finish line at bay; I don’t want to kill myself too much with the thoughts of the end and the many miles I’ve yet to go. However, it is a thrilling thing to ponder. I wonder what that dive into the Atlantic will feel like; how it will feel knowing the ride is over, that it has been completed. I wonder…

Today: 62.73 Total: 2,151.29

2005-07-19T00:06:00.000-07:00

2005-07-19T00:05:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I wish...

Day 47

2005-07-18T23:10:00.000-07:00

July 17, 2005

Today I survived 40 miles worth of a headwind to make it to Limon. The physical act of the ride wasn’t bad at all. Like any hill, you just find your rhythm against the posed force and settle in. It was the fact that I was, at times, averaging 7 miles an hour that drove me crazy.

When you see come across a sign for a town 8 miles away, and arrive at that town an hour later – that can put a bit of a damper on things. When I finally got to Limon I was mentally exhausted. It felt so good to simply arrive. I pulled into an Arby’s for a tasty roast beef sandwich and called some family in Hotlanta.

After my early dinner, I found a little spot to crash for the night. I intended on updating the journal, but put it off for the next day.

Besides the boring gas-station breakfast that morning, that was how Day 47 went.

Today: 39.87 Total: 2,088.56

Day 46

2005-07-18T22:59:00.000-07:00

July 16, 2005

Today I got up with a decision about how to head out of Springs. I could have taken the more direct route east out of town, but instead I chose to head northeast toward Limon. There were more towns on the road to Limon and I’d be in a better position for my next move once I got to Limon.

Another fun little perk of heading up toward Limon was that ABC’s Extreme Makeover: Home Edition was wrapping up a project in Peyton, 20 miles out of Springs. I heard they were in town on the news and decided to swing by the set and check things out. As you can imagine, it is quite the production.

As I pulled up to the house, it looked like a small army had taken over and quarantined the whole square half-mile that had become their compound. Trailers, pavilion tents, RV’s, telescoping construction lights, two makeshift parking lots, and a slew of other elements composed a mass of controlled chaos. It was actually pretty neat to think of all the detailed planning and layered timetables that go into pulling off such an operation. I parked the bike and went up on the hill with the rest of the spectators and Ty-watchers.

The guy’s a stud and he knows it. He’d never get lost, that’s for sure. Whenever he wasn’t in the house or in a trailer, the sounds of screaming girls filled the air. I couldn’t understand why they were screaming for him when he was at least 300 yards away. I was standing right beside them and they didn’t even seem to know…

Although I folded into the ranks of the amassed mega nosey neighbors, it was a pretty neat thing to watch. And they also ran coolers full of iced bottled water for the onlookers, which was very cool. One of the vice presidents for the contracting company running the show made one of the water runs up the hill and took a string of questions, answering some of the behind-the-scene questions people had.

After leaving Ty and his blue army of volunteers, I got back on the road toward Limon. I ended up stopping in Calhan for the night. It wasn’t as far as I had planned, but it was good enough. I thought there was some rain coming and wanted to get set up before it caught up to me. The rain never came, but it was good to settle down a little early.

Today: 53.94 Total: 2,048.69

2005-07-18T22:58:00.000-07:00

The Extreme Home Production

2005-07-18T22:57:00.000-07:00

Supposedly, it'll be the third episode of the new season...

2005-07-18T22:56:00.000-07:00

One for the Ladies - sorry that's as close as I got...

2005-07-18T22:54:00.000-07:00

And one for Jeff...

Day 45

2005-07-18T22:18:00.000-07:00

July 15, 2005

Today was yet another off day. If getting to Missoula was Freshman Orientation, this past week or so has been my Christmas/winter break. I feel like I’ve been on vacation from the trip with all the recent off days. But it was good to regroup and spend some time with the atlas in preparation for my second half off the TransAm.

I got up and made my way for the Gazette, the newspaper of Colorado Springs and its surrounding areas. If you ever have the option to read the Gazette, don’t. It was the first time I got the door slammed on me.

I went in and spoke with a lovely lady at the front desk, told her my story and such, she said to pick up the phone behind me and call up to the newsroom. Long story short, they weren’t impressed. And I should have been a bit more persistent, but I wasn’t. I was so shocked by the lady on the other end and her air of being annoyed by the query that I counted it a loss and went about my quest for a Target.

I was pretty anxious to get to another atlas. If I weren’t preoccupied with the new route, I know I would have tried a different department with the Gazette and been more persistent. But instead I went on a little journey to find food and that atlas. I found Target and the new map around 1:30 and decided to spend the rest of the day hanging out and getting my bearings for the days to come. I also decided to shed some of my extra weight and get a package together to send home.

After finding a place for the night, I left for the post office around 3:45. I was little over a mile down the road when I picked up a flat. The rain was looming in the distance, I was without my gear, and decided to throw some air in the tire and head over to the theater across the way and go to the post office tomorrow before taking off. So, instead of a trip to the post office and a tour around town after, I checked out a Friday matinee of Charlie & the Chocolate Factory. Personally, I’d give it a B+ or so. I thought it was worth my $4.

And that was about how the off day in “Springs” went. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it, but all these towns out here have little nicknames: Colorado Springs is “Springs,” West Yellowstone is simply “West,” Breckenridge is “Breck,” and evidently Pueblo is commonly referred to as “Blow.” So now you too know the lingo to fit in as a hip local should you ever find yourself on the outskirts of one of these fine towns.

I actually covered a few forward miles in my running around today:

Today: 16.94 Total: 1,994.75

2005-07-18T22:16:00.000-07:00

This is what a headwind looks like coming out of Canon City.

2005-07-18T22:15:00.000-07:00

That's what I'm talking about!!! I'd been hoping to run across some of that good ol' tacky Americana that's supposedly out there...

2005-07-18T22:13:00.000-07:00

For a split-second I thought that was water out on the horizon. After the split-second passed, I let myself belive it was as I stopped for a bit. It'll be good to finally see that ocean...

2005-07-18T22:10:00.000-07:00

Didn't even snag a picture of Pike's Peak, just awful...

Day 44

2005-07-14T18:57:00.000-07:00

July 14, 2005

Greetings from Colorado Springs, Colorado! That’s right, Colorado Springs. As of today, I have officially abandoned the TransAmerica Trail.

As I mentioned yesterday, I have been thinking of a little detour to soak up the little extra time I’ll have before arriving at the Atlantic. I figure, if I stayed on the route and followed it to completion at my current pace, I’d be 5-10 days early. When the Kiwis headed off route to Boulder I was real tempted to go with them, work my way to Colorado Springs, and continue feeling my way across. Then, when riding out of Hartsel, I could have stayed on one road and road into Colorado Springs. So today, when posed with the option to head to the Springs again, I seriously considered it.

I got up and moving a little later than I wanted to – what else is new… When I got on the road I, once again, realized I seriously need to start getting on the bike a lot earlier. The heat today was unreal. It was hot, real hot. It was hot and there was a headwind for the ten miles I rode out of Canon City.

I got off an exit to find some AC and a Gatorade at a little gas station. As I made a left off the exit I saw a sign that read: “Colorado Spgs 35.” Once again, the town beckoned. I don’t know what it is with this town but I’ve been curious about it for a while. I guess it just sounds like a nice, healthy place to live: “Colorado Springs” – maybe it’s me… And like I said, I’ve been thinking about going off route to check it out for a while.

So, when I saw that sign the wheels got turning once again. I pulled into the gas station and got the refreshing Gatorade I had been craving, snagged a sleeve of sunflower seeds, and called my aunt to get the info for the Pueblo newspaper if I kept going as planned. I told her I was considering the detour and headed for the atlas to see what was possible after the Springs.

I was pleased with what I found. From Colorado Springs I can head a little northeast and be on the same latitude as Topeka, Kansas City, St. Louis, Louisville, and Lexington; great media markets to try to tap into with the cause, not to mention a whole lot more exciting than the somewhat boring route along southern Kansas. So, after a few minutes of looking over the atlas, I made up my mind to go out into the unknown and head north to Colorado Springs.

The only difference in turning off the trail is I don’t have the great list of services for each of the towns. Now I will be going off normal road maps and relying on the goodness of the locals to fill me in on the towns ahead and the services within. I think it’s pretty exciting.

I am truly beginning a new chapter in this celebration of the halfway mark. Gone are the days of being spoon-fed by the kind folks of Adventure Cycling. Now I’ll really be rolling with the punches and figuring things out as they come. It’ll be interesting…

So that’s the news. From here I’m not sure where I’m headed, isn’t that great!?! I know I’ll be headed a tad northeast but that’s about it. My next big destination is Topeka, Kansas.

If you would, say prayer for continued safety, wisdom in decision-making, and continued strength of mind and body. Life is good out here and I am thankful for the many blessings I have been fortunate to receive.

Currently, I am sitting in a Panera – home sweet home – waiting for a storm to blow over so I can head down to a hostel and crash for the night. The ride today was pretty exhausting with the heat, the hills, and the headwinds. I’m looking forward to closing my eyes for a few hours…

Today: 46.71 Total: 1,977.81

Day 42 & 43

2005-07-13T23:36:00.000-07:00

July 13, 2005

Two off days in a row – What’s going on..?!? Yesterday was a planned off day to enjoy the white water of the Arkansas River on a rafting trip. Today’s off day was an unplanned demonstration in the power of excuses.

Yes, yesterday I went on a white water rafting trip down the lower portion of the Arkansas River through Royal Gorge. It was one of the best experiences of the trip. I went with a company called Echo Canyon and highly recommend them if you’re ever in Canon City. The river guide, TJ, knew a ton about the river and was able to point out numerous highlights of the terrain. At the halfway mark of the 20-mile trip we stopped and had an amazing lunch on the bank of the river featuring a huge deli buffet that impressed all that were able to enjoy it. The views up from the bottom of the gorge were unlike any I’d ever seen; floating down the river, looking up to the thin stretch of sky that peeked down between the 1,400-foot auburn walls of the canyon – it felt like I was in a movie. And the best part – the rapids were amazing. We went through a few series of nice class 4 rapids that I’ll remember forever.

For a would-be adventurer such as myself, there’s nothing like hanging out the side of a raft, trusting you’ve firmly secured your feet, reaching out, grabbing as much water as possible with your paddle, and thrusting yourself and the craft up and over a wave. You crest the wave as it disappears beneath you, sending you back into the river where your met by another wave of water crashing in and washing over you by the married force of the river and the speed with which the raft dove into it. It’s such a rush to be caught in the whirlwind of the ride as you shake off the water, let out a huge, deliberate exhale, and lean out for another adrenaline-induced stroke while straining to hear the guide’s commands amidst the roar of the rapids.

It was unbelievable.

There were several moments when I realized exactly how short life truly is. I kept trying to figure out how I could work out a plan to come back and spend a summer or two working the river myself. What a great time that would be, the guide, TJ, even admitted how fortunate he is. He’s just about to wrap up school and loves the summers on the river. I’m sure I don’t need to go into it, you can imagine what a great few months that must be. On the water everyday, meeting new people and taking them down the river, guiding them down a ride of a lifetime, spending your days among friends while navigating the raft through the rapids on the bottom of the beautiful canyon… I guess I decided to go into it – but there’s just not enough time to do it all, not now at least. Maybe I’ll retire early and take a year or two to come back and learn the river, who knows…

It was a pretty quiet bus ride back, as everyone was exhausted from the trip. I didn’t expect it to be such a workout. However, it was nice to work the abs and upper body a little more than the lower body for a change. The only bummer about the trip was I didn't splurge for the water-proof camera, didn't go for the even more overly priced pictures they took, nor risked taking my not-so-waterproof camera along. Unfortunately, no pictures other than those in my mind to share with you. I rode ten miles into town and found a cheap motel to crash, and crash I did. I checked in, brought in all my stuff, and took an hour nap. Then I woke up and headed for Chili’s to use a few more vouchers for dinner.

With the ten-mile ride to Canon City, the mileage total stands at 1,931.10.

Today I woke up around 9 and emptied all my dirty laundry on the floor. I scooped it all up and went down to find the laundry. The man said they didn’t have anything but said I could go to the Laundromat a mile and a half down the road. So, I came back to the room and dumped the clothes back on the floor. I updated a bit of the journal and tried to beat the clock to be out by noon.

It was 11:30 when I started fighting all the excuses and reasons to take another off day. It was 11:35 when I stopped fighting. I’m so weak.

I am proud to say, however, that I was pretty productive on this second consecutive off day. I went and had lunch – check. I went to Wal-Mart and got a pair of pliers – check. I came back and emailed a few people – check. I’m getting tired of the “check”s. I thoroughly cleaned my bike, which hadn’t been done since Missoula and was very thankful for. I properly fixed my rack, for the last time. I cleaned myself of the diesel-engine mechanic look, picked my clothes back off the floor, and made the hike to the Laundromat.

That was pretty much the day. Tomorrow I’ll finally get to Pueblo on the 44th day of this 88-day trip. Half way home on the half way day – right on track. However, I know it’s not going to take me 44 days to complete the trip. I’m working on a little detour off route to kill some days so I’ll pull up to the Atlantic on the 27th in real time without having to ride around the block for four days. I’ll let you know how that shapes up.

Think of me as I get back on the bike tomorrow after this “weekend” of sorts off. Until next time…

Day 41

2005-07-13T10:13:00.000-07:00

July 11, 2005

Today I slayed the Hoosier dragon. It was the highlight of the day. The rest of the “downhill” ride to Canon City would be a tougher test than anticipated.

I woke up and had a great Fireside breakfast with the other guests. It was one of the best breakfasts of the trip, and Nicki prepared it all, with love, for us in her family-sized kitchen. I exchanged goodbyes with everyone and headed for Hoosier.

The ride up Hoosier was one of the best climbs of the trip. I felt great going into it and it was perfectly manageable for where I’m at physically right now. The first six or seven miles of the ten mile climb were nice and steady, then it decided to get a little mean and steep toward the top. The first increase in grade came with a pair of switchbacks about two and a half miles from the summit. The road swung around to my right and then quickly hung another u-turn to my left. Unwilling to succumb to the beast that is Hoosier, I dropped my head, got out of the saddle, and powered my way around the turns – felt like Lance Linthicum…

That was only the first of maybe four nice little surges up to the summit, but I felt great going in and out of each one. It took me less than an hour and a half to scale the ten miles to the summit; I had allotted two hours. I reached the summit and felt I also earned the right refer to the hill by its new name: Hoosier-Daddy Pass! I read Chris & Chaz’ journal where they referred to the pass as such and thought it was perfect.

Once I reached the summit, I went hunting for the little gift left by the guys. It was right where they said it’d be. It was great finding it; a note of encouragement left days earlier by two of the many new friends I’ve made in the trip. After I found the note I made my way over to the sign for the traditional photo session. As I was making my way over, I saw Temple, a guy I met briefly in Silverthorne, making his way up the pass. We chatted for a while, with four additional cyclists on day trips up and down the hill, and fired off a few pictures. Temple and I finished the ride together down to Canon City.

The rest of the day was supposed to be cake after Hoosier-Daddy, but it wasn’t. At all.

The down off the summit was nice, the next 30 miles to Hartsel were relatively nice as well. It was coming out of Hartsel that we met our doom. There is a 4,000-foot drop in elevation in the 55 miles or so from Hartsel to Canon City, you would expect that to be an enjoyable ride, we did… We knew there was one final pass coming out of Hartsel, but as we rode, we weren’t sure when that would come. There ended up being what seemed four “final passes;” it never ended. And then, once we finally scaled the last of the hills, there was a headwind that wouldn’t quit. We had to pedal our way down most of the 4,000-foot drop in elevation. I’m not doing a very good job of painting the picture, just know I was spent each time we went up and over a hill – only to find another one waiting for us. It was the hardest I have worked the entire trip. I told Temple, McKenzie was rough, and there will never be another like it, but I didn’t work to get up it, I survived it. The ride into Canon City whipped me. I was dead when we finally got there. And there was one final hill as we came within a mile of the town. Now, almost angry with the never-ending tests, a new resolve not to be beaten washed over me and I dug real deep for the last bit of energy to muscle my way up the hill in a fashion I could look back on the conquered road and know it didn’t win. It was a small victory, but it meant everything to know I survived all the lessons of learning I’m not so done when I think I am.

We went to the first restaurant we found, ate, and headed to the KOA, where I felt ripped off by the $25 camping fee for the less than $25 accommodations.

Today: 91.81 Total: 1,920.86

2005-07-13T10:11:00.000-07:00

One of the last switchbacks plowed over on the way to the summit.

2005-07-13T10:09:00.000-07:00

Victory!

2005-07-13T10:08:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how quickly the terrain can shift within a matter of a few miles.

2005-07-13T10:07:00.001-07:00

2005-07-13T10:07:00.000-07:00

2005-07-13T10:06:00.000-07:00

Finally found my Bison - the tag on its left ear made for less of a joyous occation than I had hoped.