Total Miles: 4,093
States crossed: 13
Total Days: 75
Days OFF: 16
Average miles: 70
Number of Flats: 4
Fueled by: coffee and donuts
In my attempt to keep the blog from turning into a complete novel, I decided to break up the last entry into a few afterthoughts, instead of one.
I have officially been in New York city for 10 days and counting. At least the first five days consisted of only staying indoors, wearing sweatpants and a fleece blanket around my shoulders, drinking real espresso, and watching old episodes of Sex and the City for the 98th time. So in real life time, since I am finally not on bike time anymore, real life time I have only been in New York for about four days. Fair, I think so.
Let me take you back to my last day of riding for a minute, and indulge you with the story of my triumphant and grandiose arrival in my New City.
Of the three most frequently thought about topics during this ever lasting tour, THE "arrival" was definitely at the top of the list. When things got tough, I had a reserve of positive/good/warm/delicious things to think about to force myself out of the bike mentality and into the world I was preparing to enter. I had a beautiful vision of pedaling across the bridge (maybe you're wondering which one, well lets be honest I'm still fresh off the boat and don't even know which one) the sun glinting off my shiny bike, my hair flowing behind me, and the traffic parting ways to let me through. Followed by a magnificent entrance to Battery park with the Statue of Liberty in the backgound, where a huge group of friends are waiting, champagne bottles popping, and an entourage of cyclists follow me across the ribboned finish line. Complete with leaps of joy and rolling around in the grass.
Did I get my big New York City entrance? Well, as you can guess, obviously not. That was already an extravagant fantasy, but you gotta give me something right?
The big day went a little more like this:
I pulled on my overly used spandex, rainjacket which now lacks the ability to provide a water proof shield, pulled my frazzled and frizzy hair under my helmet and pedaled away the morning into the grey sky of Pennsylvania. The rain started about an hour into the ride, and believe me I could handle the rain. I could handle the cold. But combined, around 40 degrees and pouring rain...on a bike? No thank you ma'am.
It went on like this for about the next six hours, with sporadic stops about every mile to try to warm up my quickly numbing fingers and pretend like I was in a warm room, on a bear skin rug, sitting in front of the fire. All I could think about was being done, being off the bike, and being warm and dry. I thought about hitch hiking all day, but that felt like cheating, so I pressed on.
Finally, around 2pm, it had been just about enough of the freezing cold rain that I could take, and I somehow managed to take a wrong turn. I dont know, maybe it was because the rain blinded me and the fog build up in my map bag smudged the directions. Or maybe, I had never felt more pitiful and discouraged in my life and this was just the sign I needed to know that it was okay to stop.
I found my way to a bar, in the middle of a nowhere town, in the middle of the afternoon storm, and in the middle of my mental breakdown. I walked into the bar, dripping rain puddles behind me, choking back the tears staining my face, and with any inhibitions left long ago in a Kansas Town, I avoided the stares of the bar stool occupants and made my way to the back.
At this point, only about 25 miles from where I would hop the train anyway, I was still feeling like I was cheating my own journey for not making this grand and spectacular entrance. I think the minute the raindrops came that vision should have been erased from my mind, but being so close to the finish after so many thousands of miles, I just wanted to finish the last leg.
As I sat on the porch outside the bar, huddling in my own shivers, and crying through the phone, Buddy-yes that was his name- had seen me walk into the bar, and obviously felt sorry for me. He offered to drive me to the train station, and how could I refuse at this point. He gave me his ice cold plastic cup of wine for the car ride, we stopped at Dunkin Donuts on the way there, and he even drove me to the ATM. Saved again, all the way up to the last minute.
Once inside th train station there was a woman there waiting, and when she saw me struggle my way in, with a bike full of gear, she was intrigued. When she heard the news of what I was doing, she instantly made her way to me and stuck out her hand, "I feel like I need to shake your hand! You are amazing."
In more less those words, her shock at my accomplishment made me feel a little better.
I'll stop my little sob story now, but I thought for the full affect you should know how unglamorous it all really felt.
The next part involves me hauling my bike onto the train, taking over an entire car, and staring at disbelief as the city came into my view. My spirits were repaired when I knew for sure my dear friend Molly would be meeting me on the other end of the train. When we finally pulled up to my stop, the last obstacle to face was getting my bike out of the subway station and onto the street. Easy as pie right, well that actually involved me walking around in circles, people streaming past me and staring quizzically at my bike. There was no way in this lifetime I would be able to carry my bike up any kind of stairs, let alone fit it onto a moving escalator. Luckily, as I was standing in the middle of Penn Station, and just the like movies everything was moving in super speed around me as I moved in slow motion, a man helped me find the elevator. Three girls waited with me and started chatting me up. It went something like this.
girl in really tall cute boots "where did you just ride from?"
me: "umm, Jersey, but really San Francisco. I just finished a cross country ride."
cute boots: " OH MY GOD. Congratulations! Are you serious??!"
Other two girls wearing equally cute outfits: "woooaaah."
me: "umm, yup. I just finished. Right now."
cute boots:" holy shit, thats amazing." and blah blah blah. we kept chatting, but that was enough to leave a big grin on my face for a minute. They helped me on the elevator and out into the masses.
and then.... there I was at Times Square, stepping out of the wardrobe and into Narnia.
My pilgrimage is over, and I'm off the bike and into the new world, in this big bad-ass city. I was surprised by a lovely gaggle of girlfriends at a bar that night, and I think my worries from the road immediately lifted from my shoulders and flew through the ceiling.
All that is left to do is find myself a job, and begin this life as a city girl again, no longer a biker/nomad/traveler/vagabond...I'm not sure if I remember how to do that.
Lastly, all I can say is a HUGE thank you to the countless people along the way, the emails/messages/support from wonderful friends, all the amazing kindness I found in the expansive country of ours. I could not have made it this far without any of those things, so thank you to everyone who supported me in huge and small ways. If you have any questions for me I'm still digesting this crazy adventure and would love to keep talking about it, clearly.
And I'm out, ready to take on this extremely giant city in full force!
PEACE.
ps. I'm slowly uploading photos to my flickr account, check em out if you want to SEE what it was all about.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/sidracarder/
26.10.09
18.10.09
the last few weeks..
This is what I wrote while basking in the glory of hitting the East Coast, and feeling like a princess in her tower...
So far, I have had less than four days of normalcy and biking already feels like a distant dream. As if I somehow magically appeared, here in DC, to be greeted by such beautiful autumn sunshine, delicious food, a roof over my head, and wonderful company. What an incredible feeling to stop moving for a minute, and just be.
I thought for a minute, only a minute, that it might be nice to live in one of the many small towns of America I pedalled through. In fact, this little country side dream has been this romantic fantasy of mine for a while; to wear vibrant sundresses, wide brimmed straw hats, run around bare foot, and sit on a summertime porch in a rocking chair drinking lemonade. Obviously a bit extreme, but doesn't that sound kind of wonderful?
Well, it turns out, after being away from the hustle and bustle of cities, I had no idea how much I was missing it. I am completely in awe of this city where so much happens, and my undying love for eclectic, diverse, lively, and bustling city life is back in full force.
Awaiting this DC arrival reminded me of being a little kid waiting for Christmas. Christmas was my absolute favorite time of year, and it was almost agonizing how long the wait seemed to go on. I remember feeling a twinge of sadness even on Christmas Day as each event finished and the hours got shorter, just knowing I would have to wait an entire year again for such magic. I used to anxiously await Christmas day for months, peeking at the days of the advent and sneaking those little chocolate treats days early. On the real day, I would wake up before the crack of dawn to wake up my older brother, sneaking into his room in my slippered feet and wait until a more appropriate hour to slip downstairs and find our treasures.
Arriving in DC, felt like Christmas day. It felt as though I was waiting all year to get there, each mile felt like another day on the calender. Pouring over the miles on my map each night and re counting the miles to go until I had memorized each town name along the way. By the time the day came to finally ride into the city, I was up long before 5am. The moon was still out.
A hundred mile day turned into over 115 after a few mishaps with the new directions. After getting confused and riding an unneccesary extra ten mile loop, I decided it would be a good idea to just take highway 1 the rest of the way to the supposed bike trail I would ride into the city on. Not such a good idea, and this turned into a full out sprint with the cars, trying to balance between the invisible shoulder and the crazy drivers.
but...I made it to the city, and just in time for sunset at the National Monument. Pretty epic.
I spent a glorious week hanging out in DC, relaxing and NOT biking...okay maybe a little biking. I was so caught up in the incredible feeling of reaching the East Coast, feeling like a semi normal person again, and staying in a beautiful home with great people, I think I forgot the last stretch of the trip to New York City was still awaiting.
I put those 300 miles so far out of my mind, the day I was set to leave felt like almost the start of the trip again, and those three hundred miles might as well have been another 4,000. With heavy legs, heavy heart, heavy heavy bike; I pedaled out of the DC foggy morning, without a clue of where I was sleeping that night.
As with nearly every single day of the last two and half months, even the last four days from the DC stretch to NYC, there were wonderful people along the way to help get me there.
The day I left DC, I could already feel the dramatic shift from fall into cold winter air. It was 3:30pm and I had only biked 35 miles. The next town, the next anything, was at least 90 miles from where I was. Picturing in my mind, the ditch, or bush, or tree I would have to roll my sleeping bag into was starting to feel like the worst idea ever.
Looking down at my map again, as if looking over and over again would somehow solve my problem, a man pulled over and asked me where I was staying. On the verge of tears, pretty consistantly now, I said, "I don't know. I'm not really sure where I am. Is there a place to camp around here?" Knowing entirely too well that a small town in Pennsylvania would not be down with me pitching a tent in their corn fields.
To break it down, he lived right around the corner, so invited me to his house to wait for his wife to get home. He pulls out all kinds of maps of the area helping me to route the next day of biking, and eventually invites me to stay the night. He and his wife are big time cyclists, and he biked the country over 30 years ago. I'm just wondering how we managed to meet up on that corner, in the cold. We enjoyed a huge pasta feast that night, lots of wine, and pumpkin pie. In the morning, his wife made us waffles and coffee, and we sat at the kitchen island chatting about life. She even packed me a brown bag lunch, complete with home made cookies. The trail magic continues to be abundant and life saving.
Feeling refreshed and ready to take on the challenging ride of the next and last three days, I pedaled away on another 100 mile day.
I was preparing to bike around 200 miles in the next two days, the final leg of this entirely too long journey. In retrospect, after biking thousands of miles already, 200 is nothing right? Thats not exactly how it felt.
I had my last night of camping somewhere in Pennsylvania near Lancaster County, by a lake in the freezing cold air of night. Fortunately, I made an early decision to treat myself to a hotel on my last night. Its hard enough to want to bike with cold hands and feet, but just the thought of rolling out my tent after 10o miles, made me a little nauseous.
Well as luck would have it, I got lost and then found again. Two runners who were trying to help me find my way back to the bike path, graciously made some phone calls and hooked me up with the nicest hotel in town. I walked into the crown plaza, dripping in sweatcicles and rolling my bike across the marble floor. People in ball gowns swept by me. Okay, not quite ball gowns, but I would not have felt any more out of place than I already did. At least they were expecting me this time.
At this point I was religiously checking the weather channel for news about my last day of riding. I'm so glad it was all sunny and blue skies. Actually, the forecast was cold and rainy, all day for the next four days. Thinking I could handle this news, knowing I only had one more day left, I spent the night trying to prepare for what lay ahead.
Battling my urge to give up and never get back on a bike, I was trying to keep in mind all the incredibly positive things, and people that seemed to appear out of thin air through my careless mistakes. These consistant serendipitous encounters, which may be nothing more than a stroke of good luck, continue to leave me baffled yet ready to share the goodwill.
I have now been in New York City for a little over a week....which may account for the lack of comprehension or motivation to write about what just happened.
read on for one last post in this infinite blogosphere....
So far, I have had less than four days of normalcy and biking already feels like a distant dream. As if I somehow magically appeared, here in DC, to be greeted by such beautiful autumn sunshine, delicious food, a roof over my head, and wonderful company. What an incredible feeling to stop moving for a minute, and just be.
I thought for a minute, only a minute, that it might be nice to live in one of the many small towns of America I pedalled through. In fact, this little country side dream has been this romantic fantasy of mine for a while; to wear vibrant sundresses, wide brimmed straw hats, run around bare foot, and sit on a summertime porch in a rocking chair drinking lemonade. Obviously a bit extreme, but doesn't that sound kind of wonderful?
Well, it turns out, after being away from the hustle and bustle of cities, I had no idea how much I was missing it. I am completely in awe of this city where so much happens, and my undying love for eclectic, diverse, lively, and bustling city life is back in full force.
Awaiting this DC arrival reminded me of being a little kid waiting for Christmas. Christmas was my absolute favorite time of year, and it was almost agonizing how long the wait seemed to go on. I remember feeling a twinge of sadness even on Christmas Day as each event finished and the hours got shorter, just knowing I would have to wait an entire year again for such magic. I used to anxiously await Christmas day for months, peeking at the days of the advent and sneaking those little chocolate treats days early. On the real day, I would wake up before the crack of dawn to wake up my older brother, sneaking into his room in my slippered feet and wait until a more appropriate hour to slip downstairs and find our treasures.
Arriving in DC, felt like Christmas day. It felt as though I was waiting all year to get there, each mile felt like another day on the calender. Pouring over the miles on my map each night and re counting the miles to go until I had memorized each town name along the way. By the time the day came to finally ride into the city, I was up long before 5am. The moon was still out.
A hundred mile day turned into over 115 after a few mishaps with the new directions. After getting confused and riding an unneccesary extra ten mile loop, I decided it would be a good idea to just take highway 1 the rest of the way to the supposed bike trail I would ride into the city on. Not such a good idea, and this turned into a full out sprint with the cars, trying to balance between the invisible shoulder and the crazy drivers.
but...I made it to the city, and just in time for sunset at the National Monument. Pretty epic.
I spent a glorious week hanging out in DC, relaxing and NOT biking...okay maybe a little biking. I was so caught up in the incredible feeling of reaching the East Coast, feeling like a semi normal person again, and staying in a beautiful home with great people, I think I forgot the last stretch of the trip to New York City was still awaiting.
I put those 300 miles so far out of my mind, the day I was set to leave felt like almost the start of the trip again, and those three hundred miles might as well have been another 4,000. With heavy legs, heavy heart, heavy heavy bike; I pedaled out of the DC foggy morning, without a clue of where I was sleeping that night.
As with nearly every single day of the last two and half months, even the last four days from the DC stretch to NYC, there were wonderful people along the way to help get me there.
The day I left DC, I could already feel the dramatic shift from fall into cold winter air. It was 3:30pm and I had only biked 35 miles. The next town, the next anything, was at least 90 miles from where I was. Picturing in my mind, the ditch, or bush, or tree I would have to roll my sleeping bag into was starting to feel like the worst idea ever.
Looking down at my map again, as if looking over and over again would somehow solve my problem, a man pulled over and asked me where I was staying. On the verge of tears, pretty consistantly now, I said, "I don't know. I'm not really sure where I am. Is there a place to camp around here?" Knowing entirely too well that a small town in Pennsylvania would not be down with me pitching a tent in their corn fields.
To break it down, he lived right around the corner, so invited me to his house to wait for his wife to get home. He pulls out all kinds of maps of the area helping me to route the next day of biking, and eventually invites me to stay the night. He and his wife are big time cyclists, and he biked the country over 30 years ago. I'm just wondering how we managed to meet up on that corner, in the cold. We enjoyed a huge pasta feast that night, lots of wine, and pumpkin pie. In the morning, his wife made us waffles and coffee, and we sat at the kitchen island chatting about life. She even packed me a brown bag lunch, complete with home made cookies. The trail magic continues to be abundant and life saving.
Feeling refreshed and ready to take on the challenging ride of the next and last three days, I pedaled away on another 100 mile day.
I was preparing to bike around 200 miles in the next two days, the final leg of this entirely too long journey. In retrospect, after biking thousands of miles already, 200 is nothing right? Thats not exactly how it felt.
I had my last night of camping somewhere in Pennsylvania near Lancaster County, by a lake in the freezing cold air of night. Fortunately, I made an early decision to treat myself to a hotel on my last night. Its hard enough to want to bike with cold hands and feet, but just the thought of rolling out my tent after 10o miles, made me a little nauseous.
Well as luck would have it, I got lost and then found again. Two runners who were trying to help me find my way back to the bike path, graciously made some phone calls and hooked me up with the nicest hotel in town. I walked into the crown plaza, dripping in sweatcicles and rolling my bike across the marble floor. People in ball gowns swept by me. Okay, not quite ball gowns, but I would not have felt any more out of place than I already did. At least they were expecting me this time.
At this point I was religiously checking the weather channel for news about my last day of riding. I'm so glad it was all sunny and blue skies. Actually, the forecast was cold and rainy, all day for the next four days. Thinking I could handle this news, knowing I only had one more day left, I spent the night trying to prepare for what lay ahead.
Battling my urge to give up and never get back on a bike, I was trying to keep in mind all the incredibly positive things, and people that seemed to appear out of thin air through my careless mistakes. These consistant serendipitous encounters, which may be nothing more than a stroke of good luck, continue to leave me baffled yet ready to share the goodwill.
I have now been in New York City for a little over a week....which may account for the lack of comprehension or motivation to write about what just happened.
read on for one last post in this infinite blogosphere....
27.9.09
im still in the belt, of the bible that is..
total miles: 3,245
total miles today: lucky number 23, oops.
number of cats at the tree house i get to stay at right now: SIX, and a pregnant mommy!
number of times i almost quit yesterday: almost 12
check out the map link, look how close i'm getting!!
Well howdy y'all. I apologize for the lack of updates as of late, I ain't had much time to type out in these here woods. (please read the rest of the post out loud, in a southern drawl, for your own entertainment.) I think I forgot my roots and all of sudden picked up the local lingo that I love so much.
That being said, I am still comfortably making my way through Appalachia country - which is actually pronounced APPA-LA-CHA, we got it wrong in the West- and hoping to be in the big VA tomorrow, if I can get rolling early enough.
The last few days have been more than tough as I hit a huge patch of POURING rain. Pouring, pounding, crazy rain. And I hail from the great city of Seattle, so you know I don't lie.
However, I did manage to find my train hopping lovely little sister, Channing, in Kentucky. I found her in a similar state as me; homeless, hungry, tired, and ready to eat a gallon of moose tracks ice cream, on the ground at a Shell Gas Station. We must come from the same family or something, Thank God she is crazy enough, like me, to wander thousands of miles from home, and still find each other in the middle of blue grass Kentucky on a Wed. night. Wonderful.
Well we also found Hope, in Berea. Literally, Hope, a wonderful college student residing in my new favorite Southern Town, was kind enough to let us crash at her pad, cook up feasts of Spaghetti, and enjoy a warm bed and roof for a few nights. It was a much needed recuperation for me. Not my sister is the first familiar face I have seen in what feels like years. Needless to say, it was difficult to peel myself away from them to head back on the road, solo as always, and into the storm. It took a lot of bananas, peanut butter, and coffee to motivate for that late morning.
The great news, I'm hoping though, is I am officially in the heart of Appalachia country, and it is crazy beautiful. Aside from the over the top humidity, which is always nice when you sweat all day already, this state is absolutely stunning. I feel like I'm in another country, or maybe in the jungle. There is something familiar about all the green trees that makes me feel at home, and happy to be out of the corn for awhile.
After arriving in Buckhorn, KY two days ago in the pounding rain, I found refuge at the state park and in the local diner nearby. The next morning it was still pounding rain, and flashing lightening all around my tent, so obviously I had a very late start, still in the rain. I have not made it too far the last few days, because well, I would rather make it East all in one piece, and its a little hard to want to pack up a dripping wet tent, slide ever so gracefully into dripping wet spandex, and bike ever so swiftly into sheets of rain and the looming threat of lightening ahead.
After a good five hours of rain biking yesterday I made it to Hazard, KY. Literally hazardous to my well being. I tried to find a church to crash at, because that has repeatedly proved to be the best place to crash if there is no campsite, or if you cant afford a hotel room. I spent an hour riding around the town, pedaling through the rivers of water in the road, and was unable to find even a single soul on the streets to tell me what to do.
Defeated and soaking wet, I finally gave in and checked into the glamorous hotel down the road, and spent the next hour, okay the next nine hours watching TV. I forgot how addicting CSI can be. Although maybe not the best decision to watch a show about crime, while you are biking alone through the rain, in unfamiliar territory. It helped that there was an amber alert repeatedly flashing on the screen for a kidnapping that occurred that morning, in the same county. yikes.
Once again, hoping to get an early start was a failure this morning, i just could not peel myself out of bed to get going, and I quickly decided after 23 miles that I would be done for the day. So here I am, in Hindman, Kentucky, feasting at a bed and breakfast in the trees. Dave greeted me in the driveway with a tall glass of Southern Sweet ice tea, and made me a baked potato for supper. Just before I ordered take out and drank at least five more teas. Supposedly there is an ice cream Sunday on the way. Could I ask for anything more?
Also, if you want to know the best diet in the world, go on a bike tour. Not only is this a summer boot camp weight loss program, but you get to eat everything you could ever want, and more; and still feel starving. At least that's what happens to me. No joke, I usually have to eat dinner at least twice, and I could still eat dessert all day. I guess I'll have to start training for iron man Hawaii or something so I can keep burning the millions of calories I eat every day. Good thing New York City is not known for pizza and bagels or anything, I think i might be doomed.
Gearing up for a century ride in the morning to get across the Virginia border. I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I keep wishing I could bike 300 miles everyday...then i would be there in no time! For now, I'll keep spinning along on my granny gears, hooving all the donuts in sight, and practicing my southern accent.
See you all on the other side of these hills!
ciao ciao.
s.
total miles today: lucky number 23, oops.
number of cats at the tree house i get to stay at right now: SIX, and a pregnant mommy!
number of times i almost quit yesterday: almost 12
check out the map link, look how close i'm getting!!
Well howdy y'all. I apologize for the lack of updates as of late, I ain't had much time to type out in these here woods. (please read the rest of the post out loud, in a southern drawl, for your own entertainment.) I think I forgot my roots and all of sudden picked up the local lingo that I love so much.
That being said, I am still comfortably making my way through Appalachia country - which is actually pronounced APPA-LA-CHA, we got it wrong in the West- and hoping to be in the big VA tomorrow, if I can get rolling early enough.
The last few days have been more than tough as I hit a huge patch of POURING rain. Pouring, pounding, crazy rain. And I hail from the great city of Seattle, so you know I don't lie.
However, I did manage to find my train hopping lovely little sister, Channing, in Kentucky. I found her in a similar state as me; homeless, hungry, tired, and ready to eat a gallon of moose tracks ice cream, on the ground at a Shell Gas Station. We must come from the same family or something, Thank God she is crazy enough, like me, to wander thousands of miles from home, and still find each other in the middle of blue grass Kentucky on a Wed. night. Wonderful.
Well we also found Hope, in Berea. Literally, Hope, a wonderful college student residing in my new favorite Southern Town, was kind enough to let us crash at her pad, cook up feasts of Spaghetti, and enjoy a warm bed and roof for a few nights. It was a much needed recuperation for me. Not my sister is the first familiar face I have seen in what feels like years. Needless to say, it was difficult to peel myself away from them to head back on the road, solo as always, and into the storm. It took a lot of bananas, peanut butter, and coffee to motivate for that late morning.
The great news, I'm hoping though, is I am officially in the heart of Appalachia country, and it is crazy beautiful. Aside from the over the top humidity, which is always nice when you sweat all day already, this state is absolutely stunning. I feel like I'm in another country, or maybe in the jungle. There is something familiar about all the green trees that makes me feel at home, and happy to be out of the corn for awhile.
After arriving in Buckhorn, KY two days ago in the pounding rain, I found refuge at the state park and in the local diner nearby. The next morning it was still pounding rain, and flashing lightening all around my tent, so obviously I had a very late start, still in the rain. I have not made it too far the last few days, because well, I would rather make it East all in one piece, and its a little hard to want to pack up a dripping wet tent, slide ever so gracefully into dripping wet spandex, and bike ever so swiftly into sheets of rain and the looming threat of lightening ahead.
After a good five hours of rain biking yesterday I made it to Hazard, KY. Literally hazardous to my well being. I tried to find a church to crash at, because that has repeatedly proved to be the best place to crash if there is no campsite, or if you cant afford a hotel room. I spent an hour riding around the town, pedaling through the rivers of water in the road, and was unable to find even a single soul on the streets to tell me what to do.
Defeated and soaking wet, I finally gave in and checked into the glamorous hotel down the road, and spent the next hour, okay the next nine hours watching TV. I forgot how addicting CSI can be. Although maybe not the best decision to watch a show about crime, while you are biking alone through the rain, in unfamiliar territory. It helped that there was an amber alert repeatedly flashing on the screen for a kidnapping that occurred that morning, in the same county. yikes.
Once again, hoping to get an early start was a failure this morning, i just could not peel myself out of bed to get going, and I quickly decided after 23 miles that I would be done for the day. So here I am, in Hindman, Kentucky, feasting at a bed and breakfast in the trees. Dave greeted me in the driveway with a tall glass of Southern Sweet ice tea, and made me a baked potato for supper. Just before I ordered take out and drank at least five more teas. Supposedly there is an ice cream Sunday on the way. Could I ask for anything more?
Also, if you want to know the best diet in the world, go on a bike tour. Not only is this a summer boot camp weight loss program, but you get to eat everything you could ever want, and more; and still feel starving. At least that's what happens to me. No joke, I usually have to eat dinner at least twice, and I could still eat dessert all day. I guess I'll have to start training for iron man Hawaii or something so I can keep burning the millions of calories I eat every day. Good thing New York City is not known for pizza and bagels or anything, I think i might be doomed.
Gearing up for a century ride in the morning to get across the Virginia border. I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I keep wishing I could bike 300 miles everyday...then i would be there in no time! For now, I'll keep spinning along on my granny gears, hooving all the donuts in sight, and practicing my southern accent.
See you all on the other side of these hills!
ciao ciao.
s.
20.9.09
In the Bluegrass.
Current Town: Sebree Kentucky.
Total Miles: almost 3/4 of the way...
Miles to go: about 1,000 to DC. about 1,300 to NYC!
Number of Angels on the Trail: Infinite
I came down from the Ozarks to find myself in Illinois, the state with the smallest amount of miles to tackle, but somehow felt like a bazillion. Spent the night in Chester, to celebrate the crossing of the MISSISSIPPI river, something I never ever thought I would do on bicycle. Felt pretty epic to be riding over that great big massive sludge of a river, listening to Jay Z, and wobbling by the speeding cars.
From Chester I biked a few more miles to Carbondale where I was graciously rescued by Joe at the local bike shop. He must have immediately known I was a worn out cycle tourist (its pretty easy to spot us) because we instantly started talking all about biking. He toured the Transam earlier this summer, so was very helpful with tips and commiseration. Joe graciously let me crash at his place for the night and took me out on the town for a giant bowl of spaghetti and much needed beer. I always get very excited to be in an actual city sized town, so it was great to cruise around the college campus, luggage free, on our bikes and get a taste for Southern Illinois. We rode out the next morning, my first riding buddy in WEEKS, and Joe showed me some of the great back roads through his beautiful state. What a treat to ride next to someone, but it also made me realize one thing: life on the road is SO much better when you have good company next to you. So thank you, thank you, thank you, Joe for being a wonderful host on this long journey.
Right now, I am writing you all from Sebree, Kentucky. I crossed over the border from Illinois, by a small Tug boat like ferry, yesterday morning and cruised through the Blue Grass hills to this charming little town, Sebree.
Okay, it might have gone a little bit more like this: I slept in a sketch ball campsite the night before-which was closed due to storm damage - mosquito infested swamp land that it was, I managed to catch a few winks. Finding motivation for another 80 mile day the next morning though was a bit difficult. For some reason sleeping in a marsh, alone, and illegally might I add, does not always elicit the urge to power through big miles in the early morning. Luckily, I had heard news of a Baptist Church, in Sebree, that allows cyclists to sleep over, and sometimes provides a home cooked meal. Well, I had no idea what I was even in for.
I rolled up to Sebree early in the day to find a huge banner outside stating, "Cyclist's Welcome." Even on the Transam trail, these signs seem to be few and far between, and the closest thing is Bikers Welcome: that one gets me every time, until I realize it is really meant for those hard core leather bound, Sturgis, motorcyclists.
Needless to say, as I was trying to decide if I should knock on the Church neighbors door, up rolls a white car, and Violet pokes her head out, "You must be looking for someone to let you in, honey!" I could only shake my head up and down, hopeful that things were about to turn around.
Well, turn around they did. I have never met more hospitable, kind, and generous hosts in my life, and that must mean a lot because they seem to be in abundance these days. I'm not sure if its the fact that I always look super haggard, I'm alone, I'm a chick, or all of the above...but something about lugging around my life on the back of a bicycle seems to bring out the best in people.
It turns out, Violet and her husband Pastor Bob, are true legends along the Transamerica trail. They have hosted hundreds, probably thousands of cyclists over the past thirty years; opening their doors and hearts to sweat stained, semi-homeless, vagabonds of the trail. Not something everyone will jump at the chance to do.
Last night I enjoyed one of my first home cooked meals in a long time, a hot shower, and clean laundry, as well as a mountain of ice cream that Bob prepared for me. Let's just say I couldn't decide what flavor to eat, so I chose all five. Delicious.
After a long heart to heart with Violet over our heaping bowls of ice cream, it must have been apparent that I have been without company, or a hug, for a long, long time. It only took about three minutes for both of us to be completely in tears, just Violet and I, sitting in her linoleum kitchen, wiping our eyes with the table napkins. What a sight.
I'm not sure if it was from the sheer happiness of being in a home again, or the crazy winding tale of her life that really got me, but I'm starting to notice how completely vulnerable and open us cyclists must appear, because I sure do get to hear a lot of wonderful and sometimes traumatic life stories. It must be the spandex. There is just something non threatening about a person walking around in day light wearing bike shorts. It clearly tells you immediately: this person has no shame, none at all. I'll take that as a good thing, because obviously, when you're willing to wear unflattering, tight in all the wrong places, padding in the butt, spandex, every day all day in public; you must be a pretty chill, laid back kinda gal. No frills necessary, and while I don't have a choice at this point, I'll take it.
Back to the Trail Angels of the moment, I think I might go take a nap, again, after all that ice cream it feels like its a good time to hibernate for a minute. I was planning to leave this morning, but then I just had to ask myself, why? Why would I ever leave this oasis? Okay I might have to sooner or later, but for now, I'm just going to relax and enjoy this wonderful Southern hospitality.
So much more to come.
-s
Total Miles: almost 3/4 of the way...
Miles to go: about 1,000 to DC. about 1,300 to NYC!
Number of Angels on the Trail: Infinite
I came down from the Ozarks to find myself in Illinois, the state with the smallest amount of miles to tackle, but somehow felt like a bazillion. Spent the night in Chester, to celebrate the crossing of the MISSISSIPPI river, something I never ever thought I would do on bicycle. Felt pretty epic to be riding over that great big massive sludge of a river, listening to Jay Z, and wobbling by the speeding cars.
From Chester I biked a few more miles to Carbondale where I was graciously rescued by Joe at the local bike shop. He must have immediately known I was a worn out cycle tourist (its pretty easy to spot us) because we instantly started talking all about biking. He toured the Transam earlier this summer, so was very helpful with tips and commiseration. Joe graciously let me crash at his place for the night and took me out on the town for a giant bowl of spaghetti and much needed beer. I always get very excited to be in an actual city sized town, so it was great to cruise around the college campus, luggage free, on our bikes and get a taste for Southern Illinois. We rode out the next morning, my first riding buddy in WEEKS, and Joe showed me some of the great back roads through his beautiful state. What a treat to ride next to someone, but it also made me realize one thing: life on the road is SO much better when you have good company next to you. So thank you, thank you, thank you, Joe for being a wonderful host on this long journey.
Right now, I am writing you all from Sebree, Kentucky. I crossed over the border from Illinois, by a small Tug boat like ferry, yesterday morning and cruised through the Blue Grass hills to this charming little town, Sebree.
Okay, it might have gone a little bit more like this: I slept in a sketch ball campsite the night before-which was closed due to storm damage - mosquito infested swamp land that it was, I managed to catch a few winks. Finding motivation for another 80 mile day the next morning though was a bit difficult. For some reason sleeping in a marsh, alone, and illegally might I add, does not always elicit the urge to power through big miles in the early morning. Luckily, I had heard news of a Baptist Church, in Sebree, that allows cyclists to sleep over, and sometimes provides a home cooked meal. Well, I had no idea what I was even in for.
I rolled up to Sebree early in the day to find a huge banner outside stating, "Cyclist's Welcome." Even on the Transam trail, these signs seem to be few and far between, and the closest thing is Bikers Welcome: that one gets me every time, until I realize it is really meant for those hard core leather bound, Sturgis, motorcyclists.
Needless to say, as I was trying to decide if I should knock on the Church neighbors door, up rolls a white car, and Violet pokes her head out, "You must be looking for someone to let you in, honey!" I could only shake my head up and down, hopeful that things were about to turn around.
Well, turn around they did. I have never met more hospitable, kind, and generous hosts in my life, and that must mean a lot because they seem to be in abundance these days. I'm not sure if its the fact that I always look super haggard, I'm alone, I'm a chick, or all of the above...but something about lugging around my life on the back of a bicycle seems to bring out the best in people.
It turns out, Violet and her husband Pastor Bob, are true legends along the Transamerica trail. They have hosted hundreds, probably thousands of cyclists over the past thirty years; opening their doors and hearts to sweat stained, semi-homeless, vagabonds of the trail. Not something everyone will jump at the chance to do.
Last night I enjoyed one of my first home cooked meals in a long time, a hot shower, and clean laundry, as well as a mountain of ice cream that Bob prepared for me. Let's just say I couldn't decide what flavor to eat, so I chose all five. Delicious.
After a long heart to heart with Violet over our heaping bowls of ice cream, it must have been apparent that I have been without company, or a hug, for a long, long time. It only took about three minutes for both of us to be completely in tears, just Violet and I, sitting in her linoleum kitchen, wiping our eyes with the table napkins. What a sight.
I'm not sure if it was from the sheer happiness of being in a home again, or the crazy winding tale of her life that really got me, but I'm starting to notice how completely vulnerable and open us cyclists must appear, because I sure do get to hear a lot of wonderful and sometimes traumatic life stories. It must be the spandex. There is just something non threatening about a person walking around in day light wearing bike shorts. It clearly tells you immediately: this person has no shame, none at all. I'll take that as a good thing, because obviously, when you're willing to wear unflattering, tight in all the wrong places, padding in the butt, spandex, every day all day in public; you must be a pretty chill, laid back kinda gal. No frills necessary, and while I don't have a choice at this point, I'll take it.
Back to the Trail Angels of the moment, I think I might go take a nap, again, after all that ice cream it feels like its a good time to hibernate for a minute. I was planning to leave this morning, but then I just had to ask myself, why? Why would I ever leave this oasis? Okay I might have to sooner or later, but for now, I'm just going to relax and enjoy this wonderful Southern hospitality.
So much more to come.
-s
16.9.09
Into the 7th state, Illinois!
Total miles: Over 2,500!
hours on bike: a billion
days on the road: 46!
miles to go: I wish I could say 5, but I think its more like 1,500.
number of donuts to keep me going: enough to fill a Krispy Cream.
Dear Mr and Mrs Farmington America,
I am writing to you today, in regards to the frequent close encounters I am having, with all the wild dogs of the Ozark hills. I think its swell that you have dogs, I love dogs, and I know you must think they protect your property and your precious cattle. However, I find it very unnecessary to leave your pit bulls/rottweilers/german shepards/and even mangy terriers, off leash and free to roam the fields. This is not only terrifying and dangerous, for both myself and your puppy, but just down right rude. Please keep your dogs either tied up in the yard, behind a fence, or pretty much anywhere that I don't have to see them, hear them, or feel them biting at my ankles. I'm pretty sure my legs are a little crucial for me to keep pedaling, so please, don't make me get out the pepper spray..because I will use it.
and PS. Please, please, take down the Confederate flags hanging in your yard. That's even scarier.
Thanks!
So...I just thought I would include a little letter to all those farmers out there, which I should actually post up somewhere. The last few days there have been more than a few close calls with farm dogs. I was chased down by a pack of five yesterday, and after biking 80 miles already, its a bit hard to sprint uphill and out of their teeth's reach. I would more than love to grab the mase that's strapped on my bike (it really is, seriously) and spray a dog in the face, but, I feel that might be taking it a little far. I would like to keep my ankles bite free though. And yes, there have been numerous Confederate flag decorum sightings lately, which usually means I am in an all out pedaling spring at this point, trying to spin myself as far away as possible.
Back to the basics, I made it through ALL of Missouri in five days! I'm now in Chester, Illinois, basically straddling the border, but who's here to be the real judge. Although Missouri definitely lived up to all the hype of steep roller coaster hills, it has been a much needed and refreshing break from the never ending desolate prairies of Kansas. I think I may have even grown a few more leg muscles in the last few days, just trying to haul ass up those steep hills. It gets tough tugging around so much weight on the back of my bike, and usually takes all the strength I can muster to get to the top, and then I just have to do it all again, and again, and again. I find myself dreaming of the days when I could just ride my bicycle around the streets of San Francisco, with nothing on it! That's when I used to complain about just carrying a backpack to school...those were the days.
I have been riding through the Ozark hills, and if I knew my US geography I would have already known those were in Missouri. Since that's not the case, it was a nice surprise to find out how beautiful this state really is. I can feel the seasons beginning to change around me as well, and the leaves are starting to change and fall all around me as I ride the hills. Its feeling great to be out of the hot summer days, but I'm also beginning to feel the anxiety of the cold weather fast approaching, which means shorter days and less time to ride.
Yesterday was one of the most mentally draining and difficult days I have had; extremely steep hills to climb, cold grey rainy drizzle, no shoulder in all of Missouri, and mean dogs. After riding over 90 miles and not arriving in town until nearly dark, on the verge of tears, and nearly panicking; I was about at the end of the rope trying to find the park to sleep in, seriously. As luck would have it, my day was saved once again, and I got to be the third cyclist ever to stay in the brand new Trans America cycling hostel, in Farmington, Missouri.
Maybe that does not sound like a big deal, but after weeks of sleeping on the ground, in the rain, and wearing yesterdays sweaty spandex; I needed a break as much as ever, and this was definitely it. I was the only one there, obviously, so I got to lounge on couches, do my laundry, have a long, hot shower, and sleep in a real bunk bed! What a treat.
Today I decided to celebrate my arrival in a new state with a short day, and to prepare myself for the ominous Appalachian mountains which I will be hitting in just a few days. Supposedly, this Mountain range is the toughest yet. I guess I was lying to myself the whole time when I thought I was done with the hard stuff after Colorado. But...I think, if I have made it this far already, there is clearly no turning around, and I'm pretty sure I can handle the challenge.
Feeling more ready than ever to hit the East soon, and taking all the kind words of strangers with me to keep me going.
PS. Could somebody remind me what life was like before the bike? Its beginning to feel like I have never, ever done anything else in life; besides riding a bicycle for nine hours every day, sleeping in parks, and eating ice cream and donuts every chance I get. I feel like there is something I'm forgetting, like my former life was really a dream... did I ever do anything else??
cheers!
hours on bike: a billion
days on the road: 46!
miles to go: I wish I could say 5, but I think its more like 1,500.
number of donuts to keep me going: enough to fill a Krispy Cream.
Dear Mr and Mrs Farmington America,
I am writing to you today, in regards to the frequent close encounters I am having, with all the wild dogs of the Ozark hills. I think its swell that you have dogs, I love dogs, and I know you must think they protect your property and your precious cattle. However, I find it very unnecessary to leave your pit bulls/rottweilers/german shepards/and even mangy terriers, off leash and free to roam the fields. This is not only terrifying and dangerous, for both myself and your puppy, but just down right rude. Please keep your dogs either tied up in the yard, behind a fence, or pretty much anywhere that I don't have to see them, hear them, or feel them biting at my ankles. I'm pretty sure my legs are a little crucial for me to keep pedaling, so please, don't make me get out the pepper spray..because I will use it.
and PS. Please, please, take down the Confederate flags hanging in your yard. That's even scarier.
Thanks!
So...I just thought I would include a little letter to all those farmers out there, which I should actually post up somewhere. The last few days there have been more than a few close calls with farm dogs. I was chased down by a pack of five yesterday, and after biking 80 miles already, its a bit hard to sprint uphill and out of their teeth's reach. I would more than love to grab the mase that's strapped on my bike (it really is, seriously) and spray a dog in the face, but, I feel that might be taking it a little far. I would like to keep my ankles bite free though. And yes, there have been numerous Confederate flag decorum sightings lately, which usually means I am in an all out pedaling spring at this point, trying to spin myself as far away as possible.
Back to the basics, I made it through ALL of Missouri in five days! I'm now in Chester, Illinois, basically straddling the border, but who's here to be the real judge. Although Missouri definitely lived up to all the hype of steep roller coaster hills, it has been a much needed and refreshing break from the never ending desolate prairies of Kansas. I think I may have even grown a few more leg muscles in the last few days, just trying to haul ass up those steep hills. It gets tough tugging around so much weight on the back of my bike, and usually takes all the strength I can muster to get to the top, and then I just have to do it all again, and again, and again. I find myself dreaming of the days when I could just ride my bicycle around the streets of San Francisco, with nothing on it! That's when I used to complain about just carrying a backpack to school...those were the days.
I have been riding through the Ozark hills, and if I knew my US geography I would have already known those were in Missouri. Since that's not the case, it was a nice surprise to find out how beautiful this state really is. I can feel the seasons beginning to change around me as well, and the leaves are starting to change and fall all around me as I ride the hills. Its feeling great to be out of the hot summer days, but I'm also beginning to feel the anxiety of the cold weather fast approaching, which means shorter days and less time to ride.
Yesterday was one of the most mentally draining and difficult days I have had; extremely steep hills to climb, cold grey rainy drizzle, no shoulder in all of Missouri, and mean dogs. After riding over 90 miles and not arriving in town until nearly dark, on the verge of tears, and nearly panicking; I was about at the end of the rope trying to find the park to sleep in, seriously. As luck would have it, my day was saved once again, and I got to be the third cyclist ever to stay in the brand new Trans America cycling hostel, in Farmington, Missouri.
Maybe that does not sound like a big deal, but after weeks of sleeping on the ground, in the rain, and wearing yesterdays sweaty spandex; I needed a break as much as ever, and this was definitely it. I was the only one there, obviously, so I got to lounge on couches, do my laundry, have a long, hot shower, and sleep in a real bunk bed! What a treat.
Today I decided to celebrate my arrival in a new state with a short day, and to prepare myself for the ominous Appalachian mountains which I will be hitting in just a few days. Supposedly, this Mountain range is the toughest yet. I guess I was lying to myself the whole time when I thought I was done with the hard stuff after Colorado. But...I think, if I have made it this far already, there is clearly no turning around, and I'm pretty sure I can handle the challenge.
Feeling more ready than ever to hit the East soon, and taking all the kind words of strangers with me to keep me going.
PS. Could somebody remind me what life was like before the bike? Its beginning to feel like I have never, ever done anything else in life; besides riding a bicycle for nine hours every day, sleeping in parks, and eating ice cream and donuts every chance I get. I feel like there is something I'm forgetting, like my former life was really a dream... did I ever do anything else??
cheers!
11.9.09
toto, we are STILL in Kansas.
Current location: Pittsburg, KS..soon to be MISSOURI.
Miles the last two days: 84, 59
total miles: I think I'm gonna stop counting for awhile, I still have 1,000 plural to go....uugh
let me just take a deep breath for a second. phew...
So I left you all back in the rainy days of Hesston, KS. I braved the storm and luckily made it out alive, and with no lightening bolts I might add. The morning I left Hesston was a race to avoid the giant black storm cloud that seemed to be just in front of me the entire day.
A highlight of the morning was meeting two people along the road. I spotted them from a distance, and for a split second had a twinge that it might be my sister walking towards me and the horizon. It was not her, obviously, but it was an older solo woman cyclist (my first sighting!) and a younger man who, get this, is walking-I repeat, WALKING - across the country! I was feeling like this little journey of mine is taking a very long time, but this boy has already been walking for four months! I think I may have made a face similar to the once usually directed at me, you know, eyes go wide and you lose control of your mouth for a second, but once I came to my senses I realized how cool the idea actually is. He just finished getting his masters and decided to just do "something cool." I decided, we should probably be friends.
The rest of that day was actually pretty tough, its not so much fun biking through grey clouds of fog, misting rain, and nasty headwinds. About 25 miles before my foreseen destination, and five miles before a one stop town, my knee started hurting so bad it felt like I was actually limping on my bike. Kind of feels like a sniper hit my knee from the roof of a building, or the top of a windmill in this case. About ready to give up and lay in a ditch, I luckily came across the one diner in this middle of nowhere town. Limping in looking all frazzled and upset, the older couple greeted me warmly and avidly expressed their shock at me being a single woman. In a weird way, its starting to feel good that people who are so used to seeing touring cyclists out on the road, are still surprised to see me all alone.
Well, I obviously looked the usual level of haggard after a day on the road, and I asked them if and where I could camp for the night, already knowing full well there was no where. The woman thought for a minute, and told me that probably out back would be fine. Then it was like a light bulb went off and she jumped up to use the phone, calling her friend down the street. She got her neighbors to open the church up for me, so I could sleep indoors; out of the rain, and off the street. She even packed up a cinnamon roll for me, another staple of my diet.
What a night. Surprisingly it was a little creepy to sleep in the basement of a church by myself, but it was great to stay totally dry, and to be out of the tent for a night, propelling me to nice early start the next day.
Another bit of exciting news: There are rumors going around, and out here word spreads pretty fast, of another solo female cyclist! I first heard about her this morning as I was preparing to leave, and then someone else told me about her in the next town. Apparently I am in hot pursuit of a South African woman cyclist. I feel like I already stalk bikers on the road, but this time it must be a sign. Unfortunately, she is nowhere to be found! I'm starting to think she is another urban legend like all the other solo women travelers out there, because I keep hearing about them, I just cannot find them! It might be nice to have someone to ride with for a few days, not to mention someone to talk to. I'm doing my best to not become one of those crazies that talks aloud all day, although you know I sing at the top of my lungs pretty much all day, and have started the bad habit of cussing like a sailor at any car that passes too close...so I might just be closer to that image than you all thought.
Now here I am in Pittsburg Kansas, just five miles away from the border of Missouri! I couldn't bring myself to bike the extra 40 miles to the next closest thing to a town, so the big border crossing will have to be in the morning.
That's all for now, I should probably leave the library and find a shower, and maybe put on something besides these sexy spandex...hmm.
Miles the last two days: 84, 59
total miles: I think I'm gonna stop counting for awhile, I still have 1,000 plural to go....uugh
let me just take a deep breath for a second. phew...
So I left you all back in the rainy days of Hesston, KS. I braved the storm and luckily made it out alive, and with no lightening bolts I might add. The morning I left Hesston was a race to avoid the giant black storm cloud that seemed to be just in front of me the entire day.
A highlight of the morning was meeting two people along the road. I spotted them from a distance, and for a split second had a twinge that it might be my sister walking towards me and the horizon. It was not her, obviously, but it was an older solo woman cyclist (my first sighting!) and a younger man who, get this, is walking-I repeat, WALKING - across the country! I was feeling like this little journey of mine is taking a very long time, but this boy has already been walking for four months! I think I may have made a face similar to the once usually directed at me, you know, eyes go wide and you lose control of your mouth for a second, but once I came to my senses I realized how cool the idea actually is. He just finished getting his masters and decided to just do "something cool." I decided, we should probably be friends.
The rest of that day was actually pretty tough, its not so much fun biking through grey clouds of fog, misting rain, and nasty headwinds. About 25 miles before my foreseen destination, and five miles before a one stop town, my knee started hurting so bad it felt like I was actually limping on my bike. Kind of feels like a sniper hit my knee from the roof of a building, or the top of a windmill in this case. About ready to give up and lay in a ditch, I luckily came across the one diner in this middle of nowhere town. Limping in looking all frazzled and upset, the older couple greeted me warmly and avidly expressed their shock at me being a single woman. In a weird way, its starting to feel good that people who are so used to seeing touring cyclists out on the road, are still surprised to see me all alone.
Well, I obviously looked the usual level of haggard after a day on the road, and I asked them if and where I could camp for the night, already knowing full well there was no where. The woman thought for a minute, and told me that probably out back would be fine. Then it was like a light bulb went off and she jumped up to use the phone, calling her friend down the street. She got her neighbors to open the church up for me, so I could sleep indoors; out of the rain, and off the street. She even packed up a cinnamon roll for me, another staple of my diet.
What a night. Surprisingly it was a little creepy to sleep in the basement of a church by myself, but it was great to stay totally dry, and to be out of the tent for a night, propelling me to nice early start the next day.
Another bit of exciting news: There are rumors going around, and out here word spreads pretty fast, of another solo female cyclist! I first heard about her this morning as I was preparing to leave, and then someone else told me about her in the next town. Apparently I am in hot pursuit of a South African woman cyclist. I feel like I already stalk bikers on the road, but this time it must be a sign. Unfortunately, she is nowhere to be found! I'm starting to think she is another urban legend like all the other solo women travelers out there, because I keep hearing about them, I just cannot find them! It might be nice to have someone to ride with for a few days, not to mention someone to talk to. I'm doing my best to not become one of those crazies that talks aloud all day, although you know I sing at the top of my lungs pretty much all day, and have started the bad habit of cussing like a sailor at any car that passes too close...so I might just be closer to that image than you all thought.
Now here I am in Pittsburg Kansas, just five miles away from the border of Missouri! I couldn't bring myself to bike the extra 40 miles to the next closest thing to a town, so the big border crossing will have to be in the morning.
That's all for now, I should probably leave the library and find a shower, and maybe put on something besides these sexy spandex...hmm.
8.9.09
HALF WAY IN KANSAS.
total miles: 2,043!
miles biked 9/7, 9/8: 98 & 97
have i cycled over half of the United States: YES!!
Here I am waiting out the Seattle rain in Heston, Kansas. I woke up last night at 3am to lightening and thunder, and the pounding rain on my tent. Sure I was going to be hit by lightening, all I could really do was roll over and listen to the rain.
Turns out, I didn't get hit by a lightening bolt, but I was stuck hiding in my tent all morning, waiting for the rain to die off.
I made it out this afternoon to explore this huge city of Heston, (population: around 1,000; which seems like a lot considering where I am coming from!) finally found a place to do laundry, and of course, feed my starving belly.
The great news is: I have finally surpassed the halfway mark, not only of the entire US, but of this long journey I am on. It felt pretty great to realize that I have already biked over 2,000 miles and I am well on my way to nearing the coast-in a few more weeks that is.
The disappointing news is that I don't get to meet up with Channing, my sister. Definitely a mental downer, and I been feeling a little bummed out, but generally trying to stay positive. Literally taking it one mile at a time. I guess since I have already made it this far, threes no stopping me now, right?!
The past few days have been extremely long days of riding, we're talking ten hours on the bike, hitting nearly a hundred miles. First of all, let me just point out the myth behind the prevailing winds. I have been 'looking forward' to the prairie flat lands of the middle states for a few weeks now, thinking I would just sail along with a nice tail wind. However, rather than breezing through I have been battling some pretty strong headwinds. For those of you not familiar with this phenomenon; I like to think of it as equivalent to pulling a couple football players, on a sled, with a keg of beer. One word to describe it: brutal.
As much as I was thinking the mountains were actually the difficult part, the prairies are proving to be a lot more challenging than I thought. At least with climbing a mountain there is always the reward of going downhill, and the breathtaking surroundings are pretty nice to look at. The flat roads running through oil rigs, corn fields, and feed lots may sound pretty fantastic, but believe me; they are not all they are cracked up to be. It seems like all I can do is keep on pedaling and pushing through the wind, rain, lightening, and endless fields of gold.
I might be painting a pretty grey picture of what my days feel like lately, and trust me, its not always pretty...but there are some great things to tell as well.
My trail angels, or I should call them asphalt angels; the wonderful people who appear out of nowhere when I need them most, have been plentiful and generous. For example, a few days ago after one of those ten hour days of pedaling, feeling exhausted and on the brink of tears. I arrived in Larned, KS. one of the larger towns I have ridden through, complete with romantic brick roads and all the fast food a girl could ever want. I was unsure of where I could sleep, if I would get a shower, and if there would even be a food establishment open nearing the holiday.
Low and behold, as soon as I found a Wendy's to add some more meat to my diet, I ran into this cutie old man who had seen me ride up earlier. He offered to buy me a cheeseburger, which I obviously could not turn down. So we sat, he and I, this sweet old man named Keith, and he told me about life in Kansas and asked about cycling. He gave me his phone number saying that he has unlimited minutes and can talk anytime. He wanted an address, and I said, "sir, I'm on a bike, I don't have anything yet."
So feeling better about the night already, I rolled down the corner - a game I like to play when I'm at the end of the rope with cycling, trying to get as far as possible without actually pedaling. I found a hotel that seemed to have an RV park for campers, and the girl working that night must have had a great day because she actually let me shower in one of the rooms, and let me set up my tent in the back of the hotel. Just my style, sleeping in a tent, next to a hotel because I'm too broke to actually sleep in a room - imagine that.
I was also invited to a family reunion picnic in the park I camped at in Dighton, KS. The sweetest old woman named Gay, I think because she is just so cheery, approached me while I was setting up camp. She piled up a huge plate of picnic fixings for me, and even wrapped up two huge pieces of cake, "for later," she said. When she found out I was in fact alone, instead of looking at me with disdain and confusion like most people, she just smiled and said, "Well, my goodness, bless your heart young lady, you are just so far from home." Also another good thing to hear, because it means I am closer to my destination than I am to home on the West at this point!
So for now I will continue to wait out the rain in some far away library, or quaint little cafe in the middle of nowhere ville Kansas. I will hopefully make it to Missouri in just a few short days if it ever stops raining!!
over and out.
Sid.
miles biked 9/7, 9/8: 98 & 97
have i cycled over half of the United States: YES!!
Here I am waiting out the Seattle rain in Heston, Kansas. I woke up last night at 3am to lightening and thunder, and the pounding rain on my tent. Sure I was going to be hit by lightening, all I could really do was roll over and listen to the rain.
Turns out, I didn't get hit by a lightening bolt, but I was stuck hiding in my tent all morning, waiting for the rain to die off.
I made it out this afternoon to explore this huge city of Heston, (population: around 1,000; which seems like a lot considering where I am coming from!) finally found a place to do laundry, and of course, feed my starving belly.
The great news is: I have finally surpassed the halfway mark, not only of the entire US, but of this long journey I am on. It felt pretty great to realize that I have already biked over 2,000 miles and I am well on my way to nearing the coast-in a few more weeks that is.
The disappointing news is that I don't get to meet up with Channing, my sister. Definitely a mental downer, and I been feeling a little bummed out, but generally trying to stay positive. Literally taking it one mile at a time. I guess since I have already made it this far, threes no stopping me now, right?!
The past few days have been extremely long days of riding, we're talking ten hours on the bike, hitting nearly a hundred miles. First of all, let me just point out the myth behind the prevailing winds. I have been 'looking forward' to the prairie flat lands of the middle states for a few weeks now, thinking I would just sail along with a nice tail wind. However, rather than breezing through I have been battling some pretty strong headwinds. For those of you not familiar with this phenomenon; I like to think of it as equivalent to pulling a couple football players, on a sled, with a keg of beer. One word to describe it: brutal.
As much as I was thinking the mountains were actually the difficult part, the prairies are proving to be a lot more challenging than I thought. At least with climbing a mountain there is always the reward of going downhill, and the breathtaking surroundings are pretty nice to look at. The flat roads running through oil rigs, corn fields, and feed lots may sound pretty fantastic, but believe me; they are not all they are cracked up to be. It seems like all I can do is keep on pedaling and pushing through the wind, rain, lightening, and endless fields of gold.
I might be painting a pretty grey picture of what my days feel like lately, and trust me, its not always pretty...but there are some great things to tell as well.
My trail angels, or I should call them asphalt angels; the wonderful people who appear out of nowhere when I need them most, have been plentiful and generous. For example, a few days ago after one of those ten hour days of pedaling, feeling exhausted and on the brink of tears. I arrived in Larned, KS. one of the larger towns I have ridden through, complete with romantic brick roads and all the fast food a girl could ever want. I was unsure of where I could sleep, if I would get a shower, and if there would even be a food establishment open nearing the holiday.
Low and behold, as soon as I found a Wendy's to add some more meat to my diet, I ran into this cutie old man who had seen me ride up earlier. He offered to buy me a cheeseburger, which I obviously could not turn down. So we sat, he and I, this sweet old man named Keith, and he told me about life in Kansas and asked about cycling. He gave me his phone number saying that he has unlimited minutes and can talk anytime. He wanted an address, and I said, "sir, I'm on a bike, I don't have anything yet."
So feeling better about the night already, I rolled down the corner - a game I like to play when I'm at the end of the rope with cycling, trying to get as far as possible without actually pedaling. I found a hotel that seemed to have an RV park for campers, and the girl working that night must have had a great day because she actually let me shower in one of the rooms, and let me set up my tent in the back of the hotel. Just my style, sleeping in a tent, next to a hotel because I'm too broke to actually sleep in a room - imagine that.
I was also invited to a family reunion picnic in the park I camped at in Dighton, KS. The sweetest old woman named Gay, I think because she is just so cheery, approached me while I was setting up camp. She piled up a huge plate of picnic fixings for me, and even wrapped up two huge pieces of cake, "for later," she said. When she found out I was in fact alone, instead of looking at me with disdain and confusion like most people, she just smiled and said, "Well, my goodness, bless your heart young lady, you are just so far from home." Also another good thing to hear, because it means I am closer to my destination than I am to home on the West at this point!
So for now I will continue to wait out the rain in some far away library, or quaint little cafe in the middle of nowhere ville Kansas. I will hopefully make it to Missouri in just a few short days if it ever stops raining!!
over and out.
Sid.
4.9.09
Follow the yellow brick road...
miles ridden: around 1700!
states crossed: 4
time zones completed: 2
flat tires: 3
calories consumed: about a billion.
Howdy y'all, greetings from Tribune KANSAS. Yes that's right, I have officially crossed the border into the middle lands! The good news is that I am now only one time zone away from the East Coast, one state closer, and officially on flat lands for a little while!
I think I last left you at the wonderful Benham cabin in Colorado heaven. After planning to only stay for a day or two, I definitely posted up at the cabin for a solid five days. It was just too hard to resist Grandmothers delicious home cooked meals, a cozy bed in the bears den, and such wonderful company. Again, Rene and Milt, if you're reading, thank you for such a fantastic week! I could not have asked for a better way to spend my days off the bike. I have never eaten such delicious food, not to mention, I ate my first steak; which I thoroughly loved. My days of vegetarianism seem long gone at this point, I think the kicker may have been the pound of bacon we scarfed down on an over night backpacking trip, which may or may not have been followed by a sausage and brisket sandwich. (Danielle if you're reading, I give you FULL rights to take over my duty as vegetarian. Thanks!)
I reluctantly left Creede, CO on Sunday, with a lovely farewell send off from Chiara, her family, and friends. I rode off into the rising sun thinking I was just miles away from finishing...and then I realized the inevitable; I was still in Colorado, and in fact still have over 2,000 miles to go, yikes.
So here I am in Kansas, the place my parents called home so many years ago, and also the fated home of some of the worst tornadoes in our nation. I'm considering posting a sign on my u-haul (that would be my bike) which reads: "Tornado?? Tell me what to do!" I am obviously inexperienced with this kind of crazy weather.
All in all, I have ridden over the Sierra Nevada mountains, through the arid desert lands of Nevada, the hellish towering canyons of Utah, and now the Rocky Mountains of Colorado! I am feeling ready to conquer these prairie lands of OZ, and keep slowly inching my way closer to the coast.
I had my first rainfall in Lake City, CO, and my first instinct was naturally to think, "well, at least there is no lightning, yet." I must be a true Seattlite or something. I climbed over 11,000 ft twice in two days, and vowed along the way I would never set out on a bike tour like this again, unless I can claim to be from a country the size of Holland.
Yesterday, feeling great to be finishing my day early on, I rode into Eads CO, about 40 miles from the KS border. Let me just try to convey what was running through my head as I pulled up to the library, only to discover the sky was quickly changing from a light shade of blue, to a hue you never, ever want to see when you are cycling.
"ahh a cold beer sounds so good. maybe macaroni and cheese. oh what should i eat when i stop. sometimes love will knock you down. three more miles gotta. keep. pedaling.just go.keep going.come on legs.starving.ooh my legs hurt.hands hurt.butt hurts.damn i must look real haggard.beer.across the lines, who would dare to go.almost there.almost there-then i look up to the sky- oh mother of God. sh#*$. f#$(. you have got to be kidding me. what does this even mean. that sky looks scary as sh#$#. is that a tornado? omg i'm going to die. i must be f(*&8ing crazy.someone, anyone. balls. aahhhh."
That was pretty much how it went for a few minutes.
Luckily, as I was on the verge of panicking, watching the sky turn black, another trail angel stepped outside to save the day. Leroy spotted me outside the courthouse, fumbling around with my bike. All i could think to say was, "um, do you think it's going to rain?? Do you know somewhere I could stash my bike?" And the rest is history.
I was invited back to his house where we watched the storm take over the land. Standing int he open garage I watched lightening strike the earth with such ferocity I could only think how happy I was to not be biking anymore. I have never seen clouds so terrifying, but beautiful at the same time clouds. Leroy's wife came home after the storm was clearing, so naturally we decided to take a little drive in their pickup, drink case(s) of Keystone Light-while still driving- and frolic around the grassy prairies. They were very eager to give me a taste of the country life, and as my gracious hosts for the evening they certainly knew how to have a good time. In awe of their knowledge of all the plants and vegetation I had a full blown tutorial of all the plants growing in the prairie, just ask if you need to know something, because now I'm totally an expert. Cherie and I tried to watch Sex and the City, seems to be a pretty universal obsession, but I was feeling a little hazy from all the delicious Keystone and in my impending fog drifted asleep in the living room; which i must mention is also home to all of Leroy's prized hunting game. An elk head, two deers, two massive squirrels, and sadly a beautiful fox pelt lain gently on the tv. I may have shed a tear or two over that one.
Well friends, I think this is all I got for you now. Hoping to power through the massive prairies of Kansas. Wish me more trail angels, tail winds, and NO more storms!
much love.
CIAO.
S.
states crossed: 4
time zones completed: 2
flat tires: 3
calories consumed: about a billion.
Howdy y'all, greetings from Tribune KANSAS. Yes that's right, I have officially crossed the border into the middle lands! The good news is that I am now only one time zone away from the East Coast, one state closer, and officially on flat lands for a little while!
I think I last left you at the wonderful Benham cabin in Colorado heaven. After planning to only stay for a day or two, I definitely posted up at the cabin for a solid five days. It was just too hard to resist Grandmothers delicious home cooked meals, a cozy bed in the bears den, and such wonderful company. Again, Rene and Milt, if you're reading, thank you for such a fantastic week! I could not have asked for a better way to spend my days off the bike. I have never eaten such delicious food, not to mention, I ate my first steak; which I thoroughly loved. My days of vegetarianism seem long gone at this point, I think the kicker may have been the pound of bacon we scarfed down on an over night backpacking trip, which may or may not have been followed by a sausage and brisket sandwich. (Danielle if you're reading, I give you FULL rights to take over my duty as vegetarian. Thanks!)
I reluctantly left Creede, CO on Sunday, with a lovely farewell send off from Chiara, her family, and friends. I rode off into the rising sun thinking I was just miles away from finishing...and then I realized the inevitable; I was still in Colorado, and in fact still have over 2,000 miles to go, yikes.
So here I am in Kansas, the place my parents called home so many years ago, and also the fated home of some of the worst tornadoes in our nation. I'm considering posting a sign on my u-haul (that would be my bike) which reads: "Tornado?? Tell me what to do!" I am obviously inexperienced with this kind of crazy weather.
All in all, I have ridden over the Sierra Nevada mountains, through the arid desert lands of Nevada, the hellish towering canyons of Utah, and now the Rocky Mountains of Colorado! I am feeling ready to conquer these prairie lands of OZ, and keep slowly inching my way closer to the coast.
I had my first rainfall in Lake City, CO, and my first instinct was naturally to think, "well, at least there is no lightning, yet." I must be a true Seattlite or something. I climbed over 11,000 ft twice in two days, and vowed along the way I would never set out on a bike tour like this again, unless I can claim to be from a country the size of Holland.
Yesterday, feeling great to be finishing my day early on, I rode into Eads CO, about 40 miles from the KS border. Let me just try to convey what was running through my head as I pulled up to the library, only to discover the sky was quickly changing from a light shade of blue, to a hue you never, ever want to see when you are cycling.
"ahh a cold beer sounds so good. maybe macaroni and cheese. oh what should i eat when i stop. sometimes love will knock you down. three more miles gotta. keep. pedaling.just go.keep going.come on legs.starving.ooh my legs hurt.hands hurt.butt hurts.damn i must look real haggard.beer.across the lines, who would dare to go.almost there.almost there-then i look up to the sky- oh mother of God. sh#*$. f#$(. you have got to be kidding me. what does this even mean. that sky looks scary as sh#$#. is that a tornado? omg i'm going to die. i must be f(*&8ing crazy.someone, anyone. balls. aahhhh."
That was pretty much how it went for a few minutes.
Luckily, as I was on the verge of panicking, watching the sky turn black, another trail angel stepped outside to save the day. Leroy spotted me outside the courthouse, fumbling around with my bike. All i could think to say was, "um, do you think it's going to rain?? Do you know somewhere I could stash my bike?" And the rest is history.
I was invited back to his house where we watched the storm take over the land. Standing int he open garage I watched lightening strike the earth with such ferocity I could only think how happy I was to not be biking anymore. I have never seen clouds so terrifying, but beautiful at the same time clouds. Leroy's wife came home after the storm was clearing, so naturally we decided to take a little drive in their pickup, drink case(s) of Keystone Light-while still driving- and frolic around the grassy prairies. They were very eager to give me a taste of the country life, and as my gracious hosts for the evening they certainly knew how to have a good time. In awe of their knowledge of all the plants and vegetation I had a full blown tutorial of all the plants growing in the prairie, just ask if you need to know something, because now I'm totally an expert. Cherie and I tried to watch Sex and the City, seems to be a pretty universal obsession, but I was feeling a little hazy from all the delicious Keystone and in my impending fog drifted asleep in the living room; which i must mention is also home to all of Leroy's prized hunting game. An elk head, two deers, two massive squirrels, and sadly a beautiful fox pelt lain gently on the tv. I may have shed a tear or two over that one.
Well friends, I think this is all I got for you now. Hoping to power through the massive prairies of Kansas. Wish me more trail angels, tail winds, and NO more storms!
much love.
CIAO.
S.
27.8.09
heaven on earth.
I am writing you all from my dear friend Chiara's grandparents cabin in beautiful Creede, Colorado. Yes, that's right, I made it out of the hellish lands of Utah and on to my fourth state! I am enjoying a wonderful few days of rest, lovely company, delicious food, and the dreamlike scenery of this gorgeous state.
I'll try to back track a few days to give a little recap of the crazy happenings in bike world.
After months of talking up Utah and all her glory, I decided we are absolutely not on speaking terms anymore. Utah and I, that is. While the landscape is absolutely stunning from the grandiose red rock canyons to the spiraling hoodoo rock formations, there is a twist. Never, and I repeat never attempt to cycle through Utah, unless you are in fact crazy. I may just be living up to the most frequently asked question I get on a near daily basis, which is just that, "umm, are you crazy?"
Alright, I may be exaggerating a little bit, although if you had maybe seen me on any one of my last days in Utah I might have been unrecognizable. I have never been beaten down so hard by one state before; I was beginning to feel a little defeated. The incredible headwinds were nearly enough to knock me off my bike, my knee was hurting something fierce, and the intensity of the heat was enough to make my bike look like a camel packed with water bottles. Literally packed, there were at least six alone strapped to my tent on the top of my bags. Needless to say, I made it out alive, and could not be happier.
On a lighter note, I was able to camp in one of most amazing natural landscapes I have witnessed, on Lake Powell in Southern Utah. I rode into the lake, more like crawled at snail pace to the lake, as the sun was edging toward the canyon walls. I took my first dip of the trip in the lake, and proceeded to fall asleep on the rocks immediately after crawling out of the water.
Now I am enjoying a wonderful retreat at the Benhams cabin in Colorado, literally a little heaven on earth. This week was definitely a huge motivater in getting my legs to work the rest of the state of Utah.
We have had some great adventures out here in the mountains so far, although yesterday I took a little spill on a four wheeler, and nearly thought my trip would be finished. We enjoyed a whole day of reckless driving around Bristol Head Mountain on the ATV's, and of course the minute we slow down to normal speed, the ATV landed on top of us. Luckily we were moving at my normal bike speed, very slow, and were near a ditch. I was lucky enough to roll away only a couple scratches, oh and a giant black eye and nose. Just adding to the effect of this whole look I'm going with.
Otherwise, things are looking up. I only have a few more 'hills' to climb in Colorado, which may or may not be referred to as the Rockies. Those little things should only take me a few days to get over, no worries. Heading out on a camping adventure tomorrow to continue enjoying my new favorite state, Colorado. Only a few more hours of hot tub, bed, showers, company, and five star meals all day until I am back on the road again.
Lots more stories to come, so stay tuned. Its hard to think about biking when I'm sipping a cold beer in the hot tub, so maybe once I'm back in the zone the stories will all come back.
PEACE Y'all.
I'll try to back track a few days to give a little recap of the crazy happenings in bike world.
After months of talking up Utah and all her glory, I decided we are absolutely not on speaking terms anymore. Utah and I, that is. While the landscape is absolutely stunning from the grandiose red rock canyons to the spiraling hoodoo rock formations, there is a twist. Never, and I repeat never attempt to cycle through Utah, unless you are in fact crazy. I may just be living up to the most frequently asked question I get on a near daily basis, which is just that, "umm, are you crazy?"
Alright, I may be exaggerating a little bit, although if you had maybe seen me on any one of my last days in Utah I might have been unrecognizable. I have never been beaten down so hard by one state before; I was beginning to feel a little defeated. The incredible headwinds were nearly enough to knock me off my bike, my knee was hurting something fierce, and the intensity of the heat was enough to make my bike look like a camel packed with water bottles. Literally packed, there were at least six alone strapped to my tent on the top of my bags. Needless to say, I made it out alive, and could not be happier.
On a lighter note, I was able to camp in one of most amazing natural landscapes I have witnessed, on Lake Powell in Southern Utah. I rode into the lake, more like crawled at snail pace to the lake, as the sun was edging toward the canyon walls. I took my first dip of the trip in the lake, and proceeded to fall asleep on the rocks immediately after crawling out of the water.
Now I am enjoying a wonderful retreat at the Benhams cabin in Colorado, literally a little heaven on earth. This week was definitely a huge motivater in getting my legs to work the rest of the state of Utah.
We have had some great adventures out here in the mountains so far, although yesterday I took a little spill on a four wheeler, and nearly thought my trip would be finished. We enjoyed a whole day of reckless driving around Bristol Head Mountain on the ATV's, and of course the minute we slow down to normal speed, the ATV landed on top of us. Luckily we were moving at my normal bike speed, very slow, and were near a ditch. I was lucky enough to roll away only a couple scratches, oh and a giant black eye and nose. Just adding to the effect of this whole look I'm going with.
Otherwise, things are looking up. I only have a few more 'hills' to climb in Colorado, which may or may not be referred to as the Rockies. Those little things should only take me a few days to get over, no worries. Heading out on a camping adventure tomorrow to continue enjoying my new favorite state, Colorado. Only a few more hours of hot tub, bed, showers, company, and five star meals all day until I am back on the road again.
Lots more stories to come, so stay tuned. Its hard to think about biking when I'm sipping a cold beer in the hot tub, so maybe once I'm back in the zone the stories will all come back.
PEACE Y'all.
19.8.09
like a....boy??
Where to begin this time! I'll explain the title in a just a minute, so hold onto your seats...
So with a little more than two weeks under my belt, I just topped over 1,000 miles today as I reached Escalante Utah! That was indeed a call for celebration, meaning a legitimate dinner and a good beer. I have been in Utah the past few days, so its a lovely change of scene from the dusty deserts of Nevada. If any of you have not been to Utah, please go. It must be one of the most diverse and beautiful landscapes of the US. Definitely wondeful to cycle through the towering red rock canyons and flowing rivers.
I think I last left you all in Eureka Nevada, and it has certainly been a long, slow, and very hot ride since. Let me just break it down for you in simple terms here, and give you a few scenarios to marinate over, because it might just be the most ridiculous thing you have ever heard.
#1: I have had two incidents with sprinklers. Let me explain. While biking through the desolate terrain of Nevada, the towns are few and far between, which is great and terrible at the same time. I was able to camp out for free most of the way in local parks, church parking lots, the whole works. However, the downside to that is the unexpected sprinkler systems that just so happen to blast off in the middle of the night.
My second night in Eureka as I was cozied up in my warm sleeping bag, I was abruptly woken at 5 am by a sprinkler; literally in my face, in my tent, in my sleeping bag. In the middle of a dream about Sex and the City (yes the TV show) and completely delirious, I first tried to drag my tent to safety, but no such luck. I've been sleeping with ALL my stuff with me in the tent, so naturally it was quite weighted down, and dragging the whole tent was not an option.
All I could think to do was shove everything back in its place in my panniers, and run it to the bathroom across the lawn. However, this required running through seven more sprinklers along the way. Lets just say, it would have been quite the comedy if anyone had actually witnessed this little debacle of mine. I had to run back and forth between the bathroom and my tent a few times, finally making it to safety in the park bathroom with my bike and everything next to me. Good thing there was a hand dryer to dry my hair and some of my clothes. Since I had to wait out the sprinklers for a bit, I literally had to cook oatmeal- five star style- with my camping stove, on the floor, in the bathroom. Realllly?
Believe it or not, I had another run in with a sprinkler a few days later in another park, but in Utah this time. You would think I might have learned my lesson and put on a rain fly for my tent, not the case. I was even camping next to two other cyclist who both took the extra five second for a rain fly. There I was thinking, "amateurs, I don't need to bother." I woke up at 3am to blasting water again, not a pretty sight. So my restful night of sleep was cut short, and I spent the remainder of the night shivering in a wet sleeping bag, on top of a picnic table. You guys must be getting jealous now, right?
#2: As I was about to arrive in Utah I stayed in a tiny town across the border called Baker. I was given a recommendation for a great place to camp from some other fellow cyclists. The owner lets cyclists camp in the back for free, as long as you eat a meal at his joint. Sounded pretty good to me.
So after a very long 84 miles of riding, I was exhausted and ready for some grub. I got my campsite ready and without changing from my bike gear, made my way to the restaurant for some dinner and beer. So obviously still wearing my spandex, biking jersey, and biking hat, I took over a booth and started scouring the menu. A few minutes later, Mr manager comes over to me and literally says, "So what can I get for you tonight, sir?" Yes, you read correctly, SIR. He called me sir.
So for starters, I obviously feel really great about myself already. Its great to feel so feminine after biking 80 miles and not showering, and then doing the same thing over and over again. So he pretty much hit it point on. I clearly went immediately to the bathroom, put my hair up in an obviously girly bun, and tried to clean myself up a bit. I still don't think it worked.
I'm gonna go with this scenario though: He was so shocked to see a single woman traveling alone, and on a bicycle, that he just couldn't see past it and made himself believe that I was a boy! The nerve. This is also quite discouraging, because at least for me, it seems totally natural to bike across the country as a lone female....am I right?
#3: On a lighter note, I've had some wonderful encounters with friendly people along the way, more specifically, one of the cutest old men in the world approached me the other day and said, " Well that's a pretty huge load for a single gal. I'm just wondering with such a thin lady like yourself...well where does all the energy come from??" His genuine interest and enthusiasm for what I'm doing was definitely the kicker in getting me over the next mountain, which by the way was a 26 mile climb at an 8% grade...brutal. I also met some really hardcore tough women cyclists finishing a long days ride. They loaded my bike with Gatorade, energy bars, and good thoughts. One of them even said she felt like a pansy compared to me, and that is pretty huge coming from a professional looking cyclist decked out in snazzy spandex. I took it as a compliment.
#4: As I mentioned before, a very kind man was nice enough to hook me up with an actual hotel in Ely, Nevada. This was definitely a highlight of the trip so far, and probably overall. It was amazing to stay in a warm room with a bed and television for the night. I felt a little haggard walking into the casino where the hotel was, with my massive bike and glorious spandex on, but I felt like a celebrity when I was greeted by the staff. What a wonderful gift that was!
So I am generally feeling better as the days go on, but not looking forward to the next few days of Utah terrain. Supposedly I am up against some of the most difficult riding conditions of the whole country, so it should be great fun.
Thank you wonderful friends for all the encouragement and support, it means the world...and in this case, it means hauling myself up a mountain! Keep the good thoughts coming!
much LOVE.
S.
So with a little more than two weeks under my belt, I just topped over 1,000 miles today as I reached Escalante Utah! That was indeed a call for celebration, meaning a legitimate dinner and a good beer. I have been in Utah the past few days, so its a lovely change of scene from the dusty deserts of Nevada. If any of you have not been to Utah, please go. It must be one of the most diverse and beautiful landscapes of the US. Definitely wondeful to cycle through the towering red rock canyons and flowing rivers.
I think I last left you all in Eureka Nevada, and it has certainly been a long, slow, and very hot ride since. Let me just break it down for you in simple terms here, and give you a few scenarios to marinate over, because it might just be the most ridiculous thing you have ever heard.
#1: I have had two incidents with sprinklers. Let me explain. While biking through the desolate terrain of Nevada, the towns are few and far between, which is great and terrible at the same time. I was able to camp out for free most of the way in local parks, church parking lots, the whole works. However, the downside to that is the unexpected sprinkler systems that just so happen to blast off in the middle of the night.
My second night in Eureka as I was cozied up in my warm sleeping bag, I was abruptly woken at 5 am by a sprinkler; literally in my face, in my tent, in my sleeping bag. In the middle of a dream about Sex and the City (yes the TV show) and completely delirious, I first tried to drag my tent to safety, but no such luck. I've been sleeping with ALL my stuff with me in the tent, so naturally it was quite weighted down, and dragging the whole tent was not an option.
All I could think to do was shove everything back in its place in my panniers, and run it to the bathroom across the lawn. However, this required running through seven more sprinklers along the way. Lets just say, it would have been quite the comedy if anyone had actually witnessed this little debacle of mine. I had to run back and forth between the bathroom and my tent a few times, finally making it to safety in the park bathroom with my bike and everything next to me. Good thing there was a hand dryer to dry my hair and some of my clothes. Since I had to wait out the sprinklers for a bit, I literally had to cook oatmeal- five star style- with my camping stove, on the floor, in the bathroom. Realllly?
Believe it or not, I had another run in with a sprinkler a few days later in another park, but in Utah this time. You would think I might have learned my lesson and put on a rain fly for my tent, not the case. I was even camping next to two other cyclist who both took the extra five second for a rain fly. There I was thinking, "amateurs, I don't need to bother." I woke up at 3am to blasting water again, not a pretty sight. So my restful night of sleep was cut short, and I spent the remainder of the night shivering in a wet sleeping bag, on top of a picnic table. You guys must be getting jealous now, right?
#2: As I was about to arrive in Utah I stayed in a tiny town across the border called Baker. I was given a recommendation for a great place to camp from some other fellow cyclists. The owner lets cyclists camp in the back for free, as long as you eat a meal at his joint. Sounded pretty good to me.
So after a very long 84 miles of riding, I was exhausted and ready for some grub. I got my campsite ready and without changing from my bike gear, made my way to the restaurant for some dinner and beer. So obviously still wearing my spandex, biking jersey, and biking hat, I took over a booth and started scouring the menu. A few minutes later, Mr manager comes over to me and literally says, "So what can I get for you tonight, sir?" Yes, you read correctly, SIR. He called me sir.
So for starters, I obviously feel really great about myself already. Its great to feel so feminine after biking 80 miles and not showering, and then doing the same thing over and over again. So he pretty much hit it point on. I clearly went immediately to the bathroom, put my hair up in an obviously girly bun, and tried to clean myself up a bit. I still don't think it worked.
I'm gonna go with this scenario though: He was so shocked to see a single woman traveling alone, and on a bicycle, that he just couldn't see past it and made himself believe that I was a boy! The nerve. This is also quite discouraging, because at least for me, it seems totally natural to bike across the country as a lone female....am I right?
#3: On a lighter note, I've had some wonderful encounters with friendly people along the way, more specifically, one of the cutest old men in the world approached me the other day and said, " Well that's a pretty huge load for a single gal. I'm just wondering with such a thin lady like yourself...well where does all the energy come from??" His genuine interest and enthusiasm for what I'm doing was definitely the kicker in getting me over the next mountain, which by the way was a 26 mile climb at an 8% grade...brutal. I also met some really hardcore tough women cyclists finishing a long days ride. They loaded my bike with Gatorade, energy bars, and good thoughts. One of them even said she felt like a pansy compared to me, and that is pretty huge coming from a professional looking cyclist decked out in snazzy spandex. I took it as a compliment.
#4: As I mentioned before, a very kind man was nice enough to hook me up with an actual hotel in Ely, Nevada. This was definitely a highlight of the trip so far, and probably overall. It was amazing to stay in a warm room with a bed and television for the night. I felt a little haggard walking into the casino where the hotel was, with my massive bike and glorious spandex on, but I felt like a celebrity when I was greeted by the staff. What a wonderful gift that was!
So I am generally feeling better as the days go on, but not looking forward to the next few days of Utah terrain. Supposedly I am up against some of the most difficult riding conditions of the whole country, so it should be great fun.
Thank you wonderful friends for all the encouragement and support, it means the world...and in this case, it means hauling myself up a mountain! Keep the good thoughts coming!
much LOVE.
S.
13.8.09
Eureeeeka.
So on my second day of rest, I find myself in Eureka, NV. A quaint little Western town with a population of about 300. So obviously I'm having a wild time and things have gotten a little crazy...Mostly though, I have spent some quality hours lazing around in my tent under the trees, catching up on some trashy magazine reading, and icing my knee, as the locals drive around my "camp site" in their pickup trucks and cowboy hats.
Somehow I have lucked out the last few days with very friendly people, great hot weather, good mileage, and no flat tires. I met my first group of other cyclists, and then a very friendly Jersey business man who bought me lunch and a hotel room for tomorrow night! yeehaw...After that chance encounter I was feeling so inspired (probably mostly from the 1/4 cheeseburger I ate for lunch, my first one so far!) that I actually biked 115 miles in a day, from Fallon to Austin, NV. Trust me, by the end of the day as I was racing the setting sun and climbing a thousand feet to hit Austin, I was hauling my bike up the hill on wobbly legs, and cursing the speeding cars for being able to move so fast. But I made it nonetheless.
I made it into Austin just as the sun was dipping, but by the time I could catch my breath and try to find a spot to sleep it was pitch black, and I was left with a dark and deserted town. A friendly gas station clerk told me I could sleep at the local Baptist church for the night and use the shower for free. (I keep getting this, and I'm gonna try to take it as a nice gesture and not a hint at my personal hygiene...although we all know the truth here.) So naturally I start to haul my bike back up the hill, and this point I can't even imagine trying to ride him (and yes FOX has been the decided name for my bike) so at this point its a struggle not to let him topple over. After searching for an eternity of ten minutes, I gave up after finding about ten churches in a three block radius. I decided to pack it in at the most accessible, and pitched my tent in the parking lot of one of the churches. Of course it was the wrong church, and I didn't find out until the morning that the 'right' one was literally five feet across the street. The one with the shower, yea that would have been nice. A sleepless night of concrete and highway 50, only a gallon of coffee was just enough to get me back in the saddle the next morning
So after 70 mile day yesterday, now I'm camped out in Eureka; where I have shacked up in my tent in the local park behind the grocery store, showered at the local pool for free, and consumed a GIANT 32 oz milkshake in about five minutes. All thanks to the sweet lady who works at the one local grocery store. I'm pretty sure everyone in town knows me by now, if not for the beautiful image of a girl covered in grease on a bike, then for the girl who keeps asking about ice cream and showers.
Aside from a few grueling long days of biking down highway 50 where the only progress I seem to be making is eating my weight in calories, I am feeling great and very thankful for all the wonderful people who consistently go out of their way for me. I have a hunch it might be because I'm starting to resemble a skinny 12 year old boy who has not had a shower in days, and that when they realize I'm actually a single female traveling on a bike packed with at least 90 pounds of gear....they must feel sorry for such a sight, and feel compelled to do their part.
Enjoying my day of rest and hoping to get to Ely NV tomorrow. Lots of miles left in Nevada, no services along the way, and only three trees of shade will hopefully send me spinning quickly to Utah.
more updates to come...
ciao
s
Somehow I have lucked out the last few days with very friendly people, great hot weather, good mileage, and no flat tires. I met my first group of other cyclists, and then a very friendly Jersey business man who bought me lunch and a hotel room for tomorrow night! yeehaw...After that chance encounter I was feeling so inspired (probably mostly from the 1/4 cheeseburger I ate for lunch, my first one so far!) that I actually biked 115 miles in a day, from Fallon to Austin, NV. Trust me, by the end of the day as I was racing the setting sun and climbing a thousand feet to hit Austin, I was hauling my bike up the hill on wobbly legs, and cursing the speeding cars for being able to move so fast. But I made it nonetheless.
I made it into Austin just as the sun was dipping, but by the time I could catch my breath and try to find a spot to sleep it was pitch black, and I was left with a dark and deserted town. A friendly gas station clerk told me I could sleep at the local Baptist church for the night and use the shower for free. (I keep getting this, and I'm gonna try to take it as a nice gesture and not a hint at my personal hygiene...although we all know the truth here.) So naturally I start to haul my bike back up the hill, and this point I can't even imagine trying to ride him (and yes FOX has been the decided name for my bike) so at this point its a struggle not to let him topple over. After searching for an eternity of ten minutes, I gave up after finding about ten churches in a three block radius. I decided to pack it in at the most accessible, and pitched my tent in the parking lot of one of the churches. Of course it was the wrong church, and I didn't find out until the morning that the 'right' one was literally five feet across the street. The one with the shower, yea that would have been nice. A sleepless night of concrete and highway 50, only a gallon of coffee was just enough to get me back in the saddle the next morning
So after 70 mile day yesterday, now I'm camped out in Eureka; where I have shacked up in my tent in the local park behind the grocery store, showered at the local pool for free, and consumed a GIANT 32 oz milkshake in about five minutes. All thanks to the sweet lady who works at the one local grocery store. I'm pretty sure everyone in town knows me by now, if not for the beautiful image of a girl covered in grease on a bike, then for the girl who keeps asking about ice cream and showers.
Aside from a few grueling long days of biking down highway 50 where the only progress I seem to be making is eating my weight in calories, I am feeling great and very thankful for all the wonderful people who consistently go out of their way for me. I have a hunch it might be because I'm starting to resemble a skinny 12 year old boy who has not had a shower in days, and that when they realize I'm actually a single female traveling on a bike packed with at least 90 pounds of gear....they must feel sorry for such a sight, and feel compelled to do their part.
Enjoying my day of rest and hoping to get to Ely NV tomorrow. Lots of miles left in Nevada, no services along the way, and only three trees of shade will hopefully send me spinning quickly to Utah.
more updates to come...
ciao
s
10.8.09
FALLON, NV
holy cow.
so where to even begin with this one. Thought I should send a little update your way. Im writing from Fallon Nevada, yes I made it across my first border, AND climbed my first real mountain -Carson's Pass at 8500 ft!!
It might be a little difficult to write much these days, first of all because my hands are turning into the claw, literally, from gripping my handle bars too tightly, and secondly because the last thing on my mind after a day of cycling; is spinning in circles around the small towns of america looking for libraries to hijack the internet....which im doing as we speak.
The first night on the road we slept in a baseball dugout. keepin it classy as always. i've already biked more miles in a row than i ever have in my life, so my advice to any of you kids out there who are considering a big bike tour (i know you all secretly are) : TRAIN. At least a little bit. Even like ten miles a day. My training did not exist and now i might be paying a bit.
The last few days have breezed past, my traveling companion for the first week departed ways in Hope Valley, so now i'm flying solo again, but feeling great. I was able to take a nice rest day yesterday to mend a wounded knee- nothing serious, just probably overuse from NOT training enough.
I have already been blown away by the amount of interest and encouragement thrown my way from complete strangers along the road. Its wonderful to see such hospitality and kindness on my home turf, especially after always raving about the wonderful people that live in every other part of the world. These people do exist right here too, on our own soil.
Two people gave me rides when I was maybe about to fall over on the side of the highway, one woman told me I was her hero, a lady smoking a marlboro next to her RV on the side of the road yelled, "You Rock!" and a friendly ranger in Dayton NV let me take a shower at the ranger station, AND brought me cycling maps....just to name a few.
It's a little hard to put into words how I feel right now, and I may be a little delirious/dehydrated from riding in the desert, so bear with me folks.
I am now riding on, and I quote "THE loneliest road in America," also known as Highway 50. No joke, take a look on google if you're interested. For the next week or so it will be just me and the open road, trying to make it over the next border.
My plans for NYC are still underway, and I'm slowly slowly making progress. One mile at a time. So far I'm at around 350 miles, and just finished my first cycling map! Only about 7 more states to go...
Its hard to check the internet, so if you want to reach me I have my cell phone! Service has been good to me so far, so if you need anything holler....a hello is always nice!
Send me some good thoughts, I'll be thinking of you as I spin my way across Nevada!
PEACE.
S.
so where to even begin with this one. Thought I should send a little update your way. Im writing from Fallon Nevada, yes I made it across my first border, AND climbed my first real mountain -Carson's Pass at 8500 ft!!
It might be a little difficult to write much these days, first of all because my hands are turning into the claw, literally, from gripping my handle bars too tightly, and secondly because the last thing on my mind after a day of cycling; is spinning in circles around the small towns of america looking for libraries to hijack the internet....which im doing as we speak.
The first night on the road we slept in a baseball dugout. keepin it classy as always. i've already biked more miles in a row than i ever have in my life, so my advice to any of you kids out there who are considering a big bike tour (i know you all secretly are) : TRAIN. At least a little bit. Even like ten miles a day. My training did not exist and now i might be paying a bit.
The last few days have breezed past, my traveling companion for the first week departed ways in Hope Valley, so now i'm flying solo again, but feeling great. I was able to take a nice rest day yesterday to mend a wounded knee- nothing serious, just probably overuse from NOT training enough.
I have already been blown away by the amount of interest and encouragement thrown my way from complete strangers along the road. Its wonderful to see such hospitality and kindness on my home turf, especially after always raving about the wonderful people that live in every other part of the world. These people do exist right here too, on our own soil.
Two people gave me rides when I was maybe about to fall over on the side of the highway, one woman told me I was her hero, a lady smoking a marlboro next to her RV on the side of the road yelled, "You Rock!" and a friendly ranger in Dayton NV let me take a shower at the ranger station, AND brought me cycling maps....just to name a few.
It's a little hard to put into words how I feel right now, and I may be a little delirious/dehydrated from riding in the desert, so bear with me folks.
I am now riding on, and I quote "THE loneliest road in America," also known as Highway 50. No joke, take a look on google if you're interested. For the next week or so it will be just me and the open road, trying to make it over the next border.
My plans for NYC are still underway, and I'm slowly slowly making progress. One mile at a time. So far I'm at around 350 miles, and just finished my first cycling map! Only about 7 more states to go...
Its hard to check the internet, so if you want to reach me I have my cell phone! Service has been good to me so far, so if you need anything holler....a hello is always nice!
Send me some good thoughts, I'll be thinking of you as I spin my way across Nevada!
PEACE.
S.
29.7.09
Back in my City by the Bay.
So I'm back in this beautiful city, smothered in fog, and anticipating the next few days before I set out on my bike.
What a wonderful place to return to after being abroad for a year, and to jump back in as if I did not miss a beat. Great to see familiar faces again, and to explore the San Francisco hills; rediscovering all the hidden alleys, streets, and corner markets that are all too familiar to me.
I feel a little overwhelmed for many reasons, sad to say goodbye to the beautiful people and beautiful Seattle days of summer, and sad to do the same for those in this foggy city I love. However, I am also very quickly transitioning into nervous excitement for all the things to come in the next few days, weeks, and months of time where the road will be all mine, and all I can do is just keep pedaling.
The next few days will be spent catching up and saying goodbye all in one swoop, and just preparing my new best friend (my bike who I have not thought of a suitable name for yet) and myself for this big adventure. So many things to do!
I'm so glad I spent all those weeks in Seattle working really hard and training. Really eating right and putting in miles on my bike. Translation for that means, what I was actually up to the last few months consisted of mostly laying in the sun, drinking lots of beer, and riding my bike around the block. In other words, FUN.EMPLOYED. I feel very prepared!
Thats all I got for now.
What a wonderful place to return to after being abroad for a year, and to jump back in as if I did not miss a beat. Great to see familiar faces again, and to explore the San Francisco hills; rediscovering all the hidden alleys, streets, and corner markets that are all too familiar to me.
I feel a little overwhelmed for many reasons, sad to say goodbye to the beautiful people and beautiful Seattle days of summer, and sad to do the same for those in this foggy city I love. However, I am also very quickly transitioning into nervous excitement for all the things to come in the next few days, weeks, and months of time where the road will be all mine, and all I can do is just keep pedaling.
The next few days will be spent catching up and saying goodbye all in one swoop, and just preparing my new best friend (my bike who I have not thought of a suitable name for yet) and myself for this big adventure. So many things to do!
I'm so glad I spent all those weeks in Seattle working really hard and training. Really eating right and putting in miles on my bike. Translation for that means, what I was actually up to the last few months consisted of mostly laying in the sun, drinking lots of beer, and riding my bike around the block. In other words, FUN.EMPLOYED. I feel very prepared!
Thats all I got for now.
13.7.09
Here we go again.
Here is my new blog. An extension of my nomad adventures, but I thought it only be appropriate to start a new one, in lieu of new life changes and the direction of the next few months.
For those of you who have not already heard, I am about to set out on ANOTHER adventure. Yes, thats right, for some reason I thought it would be a great idea to continue living out of a bag and keep up this life style for a while. I guess its not enough to just call it a day and stay in Seattle for a while longer. Like going to Asia for nearly a year is not drastic enough. Here I go again.
The plan so far. Cycling. solo. Starting in the second love of my life, San Francisco, and finishing in New York City. The city that will soon be in my life. (my first love, obviously Seattle.)
This blog is a spot for me to let y'all know where I am in the country, how the trip is going, and for all the New Yorkers out there- when I will actually be arriving in the Big Apple.
I will be biking around 5,000 miles. Starting as soon as I can peel myself away from the absolutely beautiful and amazing Pacific Northwest summer, great people, and funemployed daily life.haha.
By the way, I might not have ever biked more than 50 miles in one day, so those of you who give me the "you're effing crazy" look when I tell you my plan, just might have some truth in those discouraging eyes. I'm pretty sure moving to New York City, being an East Coast virgin all my life, and trying to re adjust to being a normal American again since you know, I been outta the country for some time now...well lets just say thats a big enough undertaking in itself.
BUT, supposedly not, because I thought it would be a great idea to make it really easy on myself, pack everything I own into boxes again, and then bike across the country -starting with the Rockies- and roll into the New York City skyline, looking super glam I'm sure. By that point, I'm pretty sure I'll be at a dead crawl, and you will most likely find me passed out at Battery Park.
We'll just have to see what happens.
SO...for those of you who are interested. I'll try to keep you updated with photos and other fun stuff from the road.
My route will be soon to come.
Stay tuned...
For those of you who have not already heard, I am about to set out on ANOTHER adventure. Yes, thats right, for some reason I thought it would be a great idea to continue living out of a bag and keep up this life style for a while. I guess its not enough to just call it a day and stay in Seattle for a while longer. Like going to Asia for nearly a year is not drastic enough. Here I go again.
The plan so far. Cycling. solo. Starting in the second love of my life, San Francisco, and finishing in New York City. The city that will soon be in my life. (my first love, obviously Seattle.)
This blog is a spot for me to let y'all know where I am in the country, how the trip is going, and for all the New Yorkers out there- when I will actually be arriving in the Big Apple.
I will be biking around 5,000 miles. Starting as soon as I can peel myself away from the absolutely beautiful and amazing Pacific Northwest summer, great people, and funemployed daily life.haha.
By the way, I might not have ever biked more than 50 miles in one day, so those of you who give me the "you're effing crazy" look when I tell you my plan, just might have some truth in those discouraging eyes. I'm pretty sure moving to New York City, being an East Coast virgin all my life, and trying to re adjust to being a normal American again since you know, I been outta the country for some time now...well lets just say thats a big enough undertaking in itself.
BUT, supposedly not, because I thought it would be a great idea to make it really easy on myself, pack everything I own into boxes again, and then bike across the country -starting with the Rockies- and roll into the New York City skyline, looking super glam I'm sure. By that point, I'm pretty sure I'll be at a dead crawl, and you will most likely find me passed out at Battery Park.
We'll just have to see what happens.
SO...for those of you who are interested. I'll try to keep you updated with photos and other fun stuff from the road.
My route will be soon to come.
Stay tuned...
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