I woke up at Breaks interstate park cold, wet, and not in the mood to ride or do much of anything really. However sitting there freezing cold in the park was not going to do me any good so I got up and began moving out. I found myself again in the restroom worming myself by the hand dryer and trying to figure some way to keep warm while I rode. I was looking through everything I had and weighing my options. I finally got to the bottom of my bag and found an emergency blanket that my sister had given me for Christmas. I opened it up and draped it over my arm. I was so surprised to feel the heat begin to build in my arm. I franticly found a way to wrap it around my body while I rode. It was the only reason I made it through the day, that and the thought of a warm shower that was promised to me that night.
I rode 80 miles at 11.3 mph in 7:08 with a max speed of 34 mph. The whole day was rainy and cold. To make matters worse there were coal trucks every where and dogs on top of that. I really did ride as far and as fast as I could all day long. Tough 11.3 mph probably does not seam all that fast. When you are tiered and cold that’s moving faster than you feel like going.
I eventually made it all the way to Emmalena KY where I met Orlo Fisher and his wife Dorthy. When I walked into their home I could not believe what I smelled. All day they had been preparing a beef and potato stew and corn bread biscuits for me. My stomach began to growl so I quickly showered and took care of the essentials such as laundry as I had nothing warm or dry to wear any more and then we sat down to a glorious meal. I ate for of five bowls of soup and three of the biscuits. Then later after I had cleaned my bike and set all my camping gear out to dry Orlo and Dorthy gave me a huge piece of Rubarb pie and ice cream. It was a wonderful end to a rough day.
Than night on the phone talking to my parents I learned that Hindman was the town my grandfather grew up in. That explained all the shops being named “Combs …” There were even streets named Combs St. It was interesting to see where I came from, where my people are from, at least half of them. However it scared me a good bit and I was happy to be out of that part of the country.
A little later I fell a sleep and had a good relaxing night of rest.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Things that don't matter
It does not matter that I want to stop, nor does it matter that I am scared. It does not matter that my wheal is out of true or that my breaks can’t stop me in the rain. It does not matter that my legs burn or that I have no food or water. There are more things, many more things that don’t matter. The dead box turtles don’t mater, the skunks that smell so badly don’t matter. The religion of the person extending kindness to me in a dire situation—need I say it. It does not matter, nor does the color of the hand giving me food. All of these things don’t matter.
The dogs that chase me and knock me over don’t matter, nor does their owner who has no sympathy for me. The storm warning, the lightning and thunder all don’t matter. At the end of a day the only thing that matters is how many rotations my peddles have made. It does not matter how they were made or by what means they were fueled. Just so long as they were made and I continue to make one rotation after another.
There is more that does not matter. The hot sun does not matter. The experienced rider telling me I can’t ride 130 miles in one day does not matter. On this trip there are few things that matter. I keep my focus on those things.
The dogs that chase me and knock me over don’t matter, nor does their owner who has no sympathy for me. The storm warning, the lightning and thunder all don’t matter. At the end of a day the only thing that matters is how many rotations my peddles have made. It does not matter how they were made or by what means they were fueled. Just so long as they were made and I continue to make one rotation after another.
There is more that does not matter. The hot sun does not matter. The experienced rider telling me I can’t ride 130 miles in one day does not matter. On this trip there are few things that matter. I keep my focus on those things.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Day 9
Let the fun begin. I woke up early and got on my way. When I say early this time I mean really early. I was on the road by 6:30. I wanted to get to Breaks Interstate Park by nightfall. That would put me in shooting distance of my next Mennonite Your Way home. If I missed my mark, it would be extremely difficult to make it the next day. The problem with that is that after that I had 110 miles to Berea Kentucky, the significance of which was unparalleled by anything else in the trip to this point. The reason being that I would both finish map 2 and be at my brothers house. If I missed any of these marks I would be set back a day at least and then there would be little or no point in stopping by the Mennonite Your Way home because I would not be peddling a full days worth and that would slow me up to much.
I set off making good speed and then missed a turn. Just my luck. I got back on my rout only after about two miles of backtracking and then I was making good time again. Then it started to rain. I pulled over and sat down out of the rain and tried to stay warm. It only took about an hour to finish and for the roads to dry up. Then I was on my way again. Thought the day the dogs began to come out and chase me a little more. I could tell I was getting into coal country as well. Little black lumps of coal were lining the edges of the road giving me a clear idea that I was going to be running into big trucks. I finished my climb with little trouble. Again I new I was nearly done with all climbing worth mentioning. Then came the decent. I hit a rock, dead center. Both tires rolled over it while I was moving + 30 mph and my bike began to wobble all over the road. I slowed it down and gained control but then realized that I had popped my tire. Of course it had to be the back one. I pulled over to the side of the road and began preparing to fix it. Within moments a big old ford pickup truck pulled up and an old man who went by Big Foot stepped out and asked me if I was alright. I told him I was and he informed me that he just wanted to make sure I had everything I needed to path my tire. I don’t know what he would have done if I hadn’t, but it was a nice gesture. He then offered to give me a ride to the next gas station so I could fill my tire with air. Looking around I realized it was about to rain again so I decided the ride up the road would be a good idea. He loaded up my bike in the back of his truck and off we went. The old man began telling me many things about the place I was. He had lived there all his life, and had never left besides one two week vacation out to Colorado. His goal is to some day go to Montana. He told me of the streams and the danger they are in from the coal companies and the crude oil pipe lines that have been going in sense the energy boom a year or so ago. Pointing to the stream we were driving around and he said, “There used to be good trout fishing in that there stream, but its all filled up with sand sense they started in (the oil and coal companies).
Big Foot dropped me off at the gas station and thank Jesus there was a Subway there. So I got a good dinner on Mothers day. I finished up and it began raining. Not just sprinkling, but raining. I decided to go for it. It was late and if I it didn’t stop raining soon than I would be riding in the dark and the rain. So I rode as fast as I could. As soon as I got a way from any cover it began pouring. Sheets of rain came down on my head as if I was standing under a shower. It was cold rain to, there was no comfort in it…only misery. By the time I reached the top of the hill where the campground was I was visible shaking and the power was off in the campground. The ranger that saw me told me to go ahead and set up camp and take a warm shower and that he would come up and take care of the paper work later. I decided to call home first because I new I wouldn’t want to go out into the cold after I was warm. Every one was at grandpa and grandmas having a grand time eating a huge feast that I can’t even imagine. While I was still shaking people would say over the phone, “Boy you sound cold. Well talk to you later.” It was nice to talk to family, but I was ready to go and take a shower.
Thankfully the showers still worked and there was plenty of hot water. It was a dark shower, but one I was not ready to leave. Only the cold water that would eventually come from the faucet could drive me from that stall. I got dried off and set up camp before heading back to the bathroom to find a place to put my bike in out of the rain. While I was in the bathroom draping my clothing over my bike I noticed an electronic hand dryer on the wall. Exited I hurried over and hit the button on the front of it—but no luck, the power was still off. I weighted for nearly an hour until dark until the power came back on and then I spent over an hour standing there drying my cloths and getting ready for the next days ride. Even my shoes got dried. I was so exited. By the time my cloths were dry it was dark and I went to bed, cold, exhausted and feeling more than a little alone.
Today I rode 80.4 miles in 7:12 at an average speed of 11.14 mph with a max speed of 39 mph.
I set off making good speed and then missed a turn. Just my luck. I got back on my rout only after about two miles of backtracking and then I was making good time again. Then it started to rain. I pulled over and sat down out of the rain and tried to stay warm. It only took about an hour to finish and for the roads to dry up. Then I was on my way again. Thought the day the dogs began to come out and chase me a little more. I could tell I was getting into coal country as well. Little black lumps of coal were lining the edges of the road giving me a clear idea that I was going to be running into big trucks. I finished my climb with little trouble. Again I new I was nearly done with all climbing worth mentioning. Then came the decent. I hit a rock, dead center. Both tires rolled over it while I was moving + 30 mph and my bike began to wobble all over the road. I slowed it down and gained control but then realized that I had popped my tire. Of course it had to be the back one. I pulled over to the side of the road and began preparing to fix it. Within moments a big old ford pickup truck pulled up and an old man who went by Big Foot stepped out and asked me if I was alright. I told him I was and he informed me that he just wanted to make sure I had everything I needed to path my tire. I don’t know what he would have done if I hadn’t, but it was a nice gesture. He then offered to give me a ride to the next gas station so I could fill my tire with air. Looking around I realized it was about to rain again so I decided the ride up the road would be a good idea. He loaded up my bike in the back of his truck and off we went. The old man began telling me many things about the place I was. He had lived there all his life, and had never left besides one two week vacation out to Colorado. His goal is to some day go to Montana. He told me of the streams and the danger they are in from the coal companies and the crude oil pipe lines that have been going in sense the energy boom a year or so ago. Pointing to the stream we were driving around and he said, “There used to be good trout fishing in that there stream, but its all filled up with sand sense they started in (the oil and coal companies).
Big Foot dropped me off at the gas station and thank Jesus there was a Subway there. So I got a good dinner on Mothers day. I finished up and it began raining. Not just sprinkling, but raining. I decided to go for it. It was late and if I it didn’t stop raining soon than I would be riding in the dark and the rain. So I rode as fast as I could. As soon as I got a way from any cover it began pouring. Sheets of rain came down on my head as if I was standing under a shower. It was cold rain to, there was no comfort in it…only misery. By the time I reached the top of the hill where the campground was I was visible shaking and the power was off in the campground. The ranger that saw me told me to go ahead and set up camp and take a warm shower and that he would come up and take care of the paper work later. I decided to call home first because I new I wouldn’t want to go out into the cold after I was warm. Every one was at grandpa and grandmas having a grand time eating a huge feast that I can’t even imagine. While I was still shaking people would say over the phone, “Boy you sound cold. Well talk to you later.” It was nice to talk to family, but I was ready to go and take a shower.
Thankfully the showers still worked and there was plenty of hot water. It was a dark shower, but one I was not ready to leave. Only the cold water that would eventually come from the faucet could drive me from that stall. I got dried off and set up camp before heading back to the bathroom to find a place to put my bike in out of the rain. While I was in the bathroom draping my clothing over my bike I noticed an electronic hand dryer on the wall. Exited I hurried over and hit the button on the front of it—but no luck, the power was still off. I weighted for nearly an hour until dark until the power came back on and then I spent over an hour standing there drying my cloths and getting ready for the next days ride. Even my shoes got dried. I was so exited. By the time my cloths were dry it was dark and I went to bed, cold, exhausted and feeling more than a little alone.
Today I rode 80.4 miles in 7:12 at an average speed of 11.14 mph with a max speed of 39 mph.
Day 8
It rained during the night while I was sleeping. Not much, just enough to get everything damp. I had a towel to dry my stuff off with and then I decided to continue on my way. I was headed to Damascus VA and in between me and Damascus was my last major climb until the Rockies. There would be a few smaller ones after this, but this was the last real climb that would cause much physical exertion. I set off. It was a pleasant day to ride. There were a few clouds but mostly it was just sunny and warm. I began my assent and much to my surprise I was riding along a beautiful mountain stream most of the way that flowed crystal clear with a slight rush to it. It was not in to big a hurry, but still it didn’t lazily wonder its way through the hills as many streams on the eastern half of the country do.
I arrived in Damascus pretty early in the evening and the thought of going on was some what appealing, but in the end that little voice that said, “this coffee shop has free internet and a computer for you to use” won out and I sat around for a good few hours trying to converse with friends. Then a quick stop by the store for some more food and off I went to the next camp ground. It was simply delightful. I was camping right along a river that reminded me of the Applegate River back home. It was clear, deep and moving along at a good pace. There were also rocks along it, not small ones, but huge boulders and cliffs. It was simply amazing to sleep only feet a way from it. I found a little grassy patch under a big fur tree and pitched my tent.
Later that night I went and made a few phone calls to mom and Natasha (my contact for Mennonite Your Way homes) and then I went to bead. Over all it was a splendid day with little or no hardships. In fact it was so easy I made the mistake of thinking to myself, “waw, I haven’t even popped a tier yet.”
It was another short day. I rode 67.5 miles at 12 mph. It took me 5:37 with a max speed of 36.6 mph.
I arrived in Damascus pretty early in the evening and the thought of going on was some what appealing, but in the end that little voice that said, “this coffee shop has free internet and a computer for you to use” won out and I sat around for a good few hours trying to converse with friends. Then a quick stop by the store for some more food and off I went to the next camp ground. It was simply delightful. I was camping right along a river that reminded me of the Applegate River back home. It was clear, deep and moving along at a good pace. There were also rocks along it, not small ones, but huge boulders and cliffs. It was simply amazing to sleep only feet a way from it. I found a little grassy patch under a big fur tree and pitched my tent.
Later that night I went and made a few phone calls to mom and Natasha (my contact for Mennonite Your Way homes) and then I went to bead. Over all it was a splendid day with little or no hardships. In fact it was so easy I made the mistake of thinking to myself, “waw, I haven’t even popped a tier yet.”
It was another short day. I rode 67.5 miles at 12 mph. It took me 5:37 with a max speed of 36.6 mph.
Day 7
Day 7
Day seven was a nice day. I woke up at about 8:00 and got to make my own breakfast, my own warm breakfast in a kitchen. It was simply wonderful. I made an omelet, one of my favorite breakfasts. Then I hung around for the morning with Kaitlin, Kendra, and Absalom. It was a good day for riding. It had rained the night before so the air was nice and crisp and it was not to hot. Little did I know heat would be the least of my concerns the next few days. I didn’t end up taking off until 1:30 pm. It was a lazy day and I needed it after my last two days of hard riding with little rest. I began after lunch and after Kendra gave me the stuff to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the road. Then I was off. I rode until it was nearly dark. I was glad to find my camp ground because a cold weather front was moving in and I was beginning to get very cold.
Today also marked the beginning of something besides being cold for me, it was the first time I was chased by a dog. Something I didn’t mind because it was only one. I had no idea what I was headed for.
I rode 61.8 miles from Christiansburg to Wytheville on day 7 at 10.72 mph and I rode for 5:45, not my fastest time. My max speed was 34 mph.
Day seven was a nice day. I woke up at about 8:00 and got to make my own breakfast, my own warm breakfast in a kitchen. It was simply wonderful. I made an omelet, one of my favorite breakfasts. Then I hung around for the morning with Kaitlin, Kendra, and Absalom. It was a good day for riding. It had rained the night before so the air was nice and crisp and it was not to hot. Little did I know heat would be the least of my concerns the next few days. I didn’t end up taking off until 1:30 pm. It was a lazy day and I needed it after my last two days of hard riding with little rest. I began after lunch and after Kendra gave me the stuff to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the road. Then I was off. I rode until it was nearly dark. I was glad to find my camp ground because a cold weather front was moving in and I was beginning to get very cold.
Today also marked the beginning of something besides being cold for me, it was the first time I was chased by a dog. Something I didn’t mind because it was only one. I had no idea what I was headed for.
I rode 61.8 miles from Christiansburg to Wytheville on day 7 at 10.72 mph and I rode for 5:45, not my fastest time. My max speed was 34 mph.
Day 6
Day 6
I woke up and believe it or not I really didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted to just lay there in my sleeping bag listening to the calm river flow by, but I had a long ways to go on day six so I needed to pick up and move out. I ate a quick cold breakfast and packed up camp before moving out. I was in Lexington VA headed to Christiansburg VA. This, if I made the full trip today would not only put me in a Mennonite Your Way home, but be the end of my first map, a mile stone in my cross country bike trip. Both of those things were enough to motivate me to move out with a little speed under my tail, even though my legs burned from the tough ride the day before.
It was a long day, about 90 miles over all. I stopped in Buchanan VA to use the internet and was informed that I was crazy for thinking that I was going to make it all the way to Christiansburg by nightfall. The librarian meant well, but she wasn’t helping. Actually she probably helped more than I am giving her credit. Had she said I could make it I probably wouldn’t have peddled so hard.
The day was beautiful, a few clouds and a nice slight breeze. It was very hilly most of the way. I even took a shortcut in order to speed up my time. It worked. I eventually came to a little store in the country and tiered as I was I stopped to fill my water bottles and ask how far I had to go. The woman told me I had 17 miles to go. 33 miles later I reached Christiansburg. I don’t understand how you can be off almost half the distance like that. I guess I would understand if it was a half a mile or if she was five miles off at 33 miles, but as I see things, that was like saying, “Oh, its about 17 miles--give or take--17.” At this point I decided to quit asking people who drove cars for information about distance or terrain. I just didn’t want to be so misled any more.
I finally made it to Christiansburg and called the family I was going to stay with for the night. The daughter Kaitlin answered the phone and gave me directions to their house. Before she hung up the phone she said, “boy, you have some hills to climb.” Yet another affirming word of encouragement. I made the four or five miles out to the home of Conrad and Janie Heatwole and was kindly welcomed by all the members of the family that were home (Kaitlin, Kendra, and a son in law Absalom).
My host family for the night was simply amazing. Kaitlin drove me to the store to get more food for the next day and Janie gave me a cell phone to call all of my family and friends. They also provided internet for me to continue to schedule homes for me to stay in and check the weather. Then after all of that they invited me to play Settlers with the family until way later than I have been staying up on my trip. I must say by the end of it I felt like I was going to fall over. I was so tiered. I eventually limped off to bead. But I didn’t want to. It felt so good to be part of a community, even if it wasn’t mine. To be accepted into a home and treated like some one who belongs there is an amazing and powerful thing when you are alone. I must say, the next day when it came time to leave I didn’t want to go. But the road was calling and I never did do well sitting in one place to long.
I woke up and believe it or not I really didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted to just lay there in my sleeping bag listening to the calm river flow by, but I had a long ways to go on day six so I needed to pick up and move out. I ate a quick cold breakfast and packed up camp before moving out. I was in Lexington VA headed to Christiansburg VA. This, if I made the full trip today would not only put me in a Mennonite Your Way home, but be the end of my first map, a mile stone in my cross country bike trip. Both of those things were enough to motivate me to move out with a little speed under my tail, even though my legs burned from the tough ride the day before.
It was a long day, about 90 miles over all. I stopped in Buchanan VA to use the internet and was informed that I was crazy for thinking that I was going to make it all the way to Christiansburg by nightfall. The librarian meant well, but she wasn’t helping. Actually she probably helped more than I am giving her credit. Had she said I could make it I probably wouldn’t have peddled so hard.
The day was beautiful, a few clouds and a nice slight breeze. It was very hilly most of the way. I even took a shortcut in order to speed up my time. It worked. I eventually came to a little store in the country and tiered as I was I stopped to fill my water bottles and ask how far I had to go. The woman told me I had 17 miles to go. 33 miles later I reached Christiansburg. I don’t understand how you can be off almost half the distance like that. I guess I would understand if it was a half a mile or if she was five miles off at 33 miles, but as I see things, that was like saying, “Oh, its about 17 miles--give or take--17.” At this point I decided to quit asking people who drove cars for information about distance or terrain. I just didn’t want to be so misled any more.
I finally made it to Christiansburg and called the family I was going to stay with for the night. The daughter Kaitlin answered the phone and gave me directions to their house. Before she hung up the phone she said, “boy, you have some hills to climb.” Yet another affirming word of encouragement. I made the four or five miles out to the home of Conrad and Janie Heatwole and was kindly welcomed by all the members of the family that were home (Kaitlin, Kendra, and a son in law Absalom).
My host family for the night was simply amazing. Kaitlin drove me to the store to get more food for the next day and Janie gave me a cell phone to call all of my family and friends. They also provided internet for me to continue to schedule homes for me to stay in and check the weather. Then after all of that they invited me to play Settlers with the family until way later than I have been staying up on my trip. I must say by the end of it I felt like I was going to fall over. I was so tiered. I eventually limped off to bead. But I didn’t want to. It felt so good to be part of a community, even if it wasn’t mine. To be accepted into a home and treated like some one who belongs there is an amazing and powerful thing when you are alone. I must say, the next day when it came time to leave I didn’t want to go. But the road was calling and I never did do well sitting in one place to long.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Day 5
Day 5
The day started early because I was kind of scared of being caught as I didn’t have permission to sleep behind the church. I didn’t think any one would care as I didn’t do anything damaging in any way, but still, I feel its just better for no one to know you are there when you are trespassing as that way you are sure to avoid all problems. I got up and ate my cold breakfast and then headed out. The day started with more climbing than I was used to and my maps showed that I was in for a long hard day. When I woke up I checked my GPS and it said I was at 722 ft elevation. I started climbing into the Blue Mountains and decided I would stop at the little town at the foot of the mountains in order to restock on food and water.
There was nothing in the town, just a post office with bad drinking water. It was not looking like a good day. I was about to leave and attempt the suicidal climb with a half bottle of water when one of the women behind the counter said, “try the cookie lady, she is biker friendly.” I was a bit concerned to say the least, but I gave it a go. So off I went in search for the cookie lady. I wasn’t ready for what I found. She was an old woman with no remaining family and a hear bigger than anyone I new. She lost her mother, her last remaining family member in 1976, the same year the bike trail was planed. It ran right past her house, so she began taking in bikers. She told me that because she has no family, bikers were her family now. She gave me the keys to the bike house and told me to look around and to put the photo she had taken of me (she had an old Polaroid camera) in the photo album on the table. I was shocked when I went in. she had 16 photo albums with photos of every biker who has stopped by her house sense 1976. On the walls of the house she had every post card, newspaper clipping and letter that every biker has ever sent her. There were wedding photos and photos of peoples children on there graduation day. She really had become part of these peoples family. The house ended up being fully furnished with all the food a biker could ask for as well as several bedrooms and couches. It was amazing. I took what I needed and then locked it up before heading back to the old woman’s house to say good by. We talked for a while and she told me some of the amazing stories of bikers that had come through the pass over the Blue Mountains. I was amazed to put it lightly.
Setting off over the Blue Mountains was the hardest thing I have done to date on a bike. It was no easy climb. By 1:00 that afternoon I had climbed to an elevation that exceeded 3250 ft. Now remember that I had started at 722 ft that morning.
I stopped at the ranger station on the mountain and asked how many more inclines I had until I reached Vesuvious, the town I was going to descend to on the other side of the mountain range and he said, “oh, about two more.” Six inclines later I finally reached SR 59 and began my descent. That was the low point in the trip. With each passing incline my heart sank a little more. I ran out of food and nearly out of water on that mountain. I was very lonely and wanted nothing more than to be with my friends. But I was very alone and had no idea how far it was until I would reach my destination for the night. I pushed on and finally made it. I got down the mountain to Vesuvious and there was nothing there ether, just a post office, but this time with drinkable water. I asked the man how far it was to Lexington VA and he said 33 miles. I was very skeptical, but I had no choice so I took off as fast as I could.
I made it to Lexington and found a place to eat and a store to get more food for the next day which was promising to be as hard as the day that I had just finished. I then began looking for a place to sleep. I found a little park and began looking to see if I could sleep there that night. There was a state police officer there so I asked him if I could sleep there. He called headquarters and asked them and they sent two more police officers to check it out. Then they said, “NO”. The state cop got eratated and said, “just put your bike in my car.” I was a bit confused until the other police officers asked me what he was going to do with me. He said he had a place for me to sleep and he was going to take me there. I couldn’t believe it. He took me to his in-laws farm and let me sleep in their pasture next to a river. It was simply splendid. I got to sleep right along a river that was nice and clean. He told me it was safe to swim in and that I could bath in it if I wanted to. I did. It was simply a wonderful way to end a hard and trying day. That night I slept very soundly.
Over all I rode 73.5 miles at 9.6 mph from Whitehall VA to Lexington VA. I rode for 7:38 with a max speed of 34.5 mph.
The day started early because I was kind of scared of being caught as I didn’t have permission to sleep behind the church. I didn’t think any one would care as I didn’t do anything damaging in any way, but still, I feel its just better for no one to know you are there when you are trespassing as that way you are sure to avoid all problems. I got up and ate my cold breakfast and then headed out. The day started with more climbing than I was used to and my maps showed that I was in for a long hard day. When I woke up I checked my GPS and it said I was at 722 ft elevation. I started climbing into the Blue Mountains and decided I would stop at the little town at the foot of the mountains in order to restock on food and water.
There was nothing in the town, just a post office with bad drinking water. It was not looking like a good day. I was about to leave and attempt the suicidal climb with a half bottle of water when one of the women behind the counter said, “try the cookie lady, she is biker friendly.” I was a bit concerned to say the least, but I gave it a go. So off I went in search for the cookie lady. I wasn’t ready for what I found. She was an old woman with no remaining family and a hear bigger than anyone I new. She lost her mother, her last remaining family member in 1976, the same year the bike trail was planed. It ran right past her house, so she began taking in bikers. She told me that because she has no family, bikers were her family now. She gave me the keys to the bike house and told me to look around and to put the photo she had taken of me (she had an old Polaroid camera) in the photo album on the table. I was shocked when I went in. she had 16 photo albums with photos of every biker who has stopped by her house sense 1976. On the walls of the house she had every post card, newspaper clipping and letter that every biker has ever sent her. There were wedding photos and photos of peoples children on there graduation day. She really had become part of these peoples family. The house ended up being fully furnished with all the food a biker could ask for as well as several bedrooms and couches. It was amazing. I took what I needed and then locked it up before heading back to the old woman’s house to say good by. We talked for a while and she told me some of the amazing stories of bikers that had come through the pass over the Blue Mountains. I was amazed to put it lightly.
Setting off over the Blue Mountains was the hardest thing I have done to date on a bike. It was no easy climb. By 1:00 that afternoon I had climbed to an elevation that exceeded 3250 ft. Now remember that I had started at 722 ft that morning.
I stopped at the ranger station on the mountain and asked how many more inclines I had until I reached Vesuvious, the town I was going to descend to on the other side of the mountain range and he said, “oh, about two more.” Six inclines later I finally reached SR 59 and began my descent. That was the low point in the trip. With each passing incline my heart sank a little more. I ran out of food and nearly out of water on that mountain. I was very lonely and wanted nothing more than to be with my friends. But I was very alone and had no idea how far it was until I would reach my destination for the night. I pushed on and finally made it. I got down the mountain to Vesuvious and there was nothing there ether, just a post office, but this time with drinkable water. I asked the man how far it was to Lexington VA and he said 33 miles. I was very skeptical, but I had no choice so I took off as fast as I could.
I made it to Lexington and found a place to eat and a store to get more food for the next day which was promising to be as hard as the day that I had just finished. I then began looking for a place to sleep. I found a little park and began looking to see if I could sleep there that night. There was a state police officer there so I asked him if I could sleep there. He called headquarters and asked them and they sent two more police officers to check it out. Then they said, “NO”. The state cop got eratated and said, “just put your bike in my car.” I was a bit confused until the other police officers asked me what he was going to do with me. He said he had a place for me to sleep and he was going to take me there. I couldn’t believe it. He took me to his in-laws farm and let me sleep in their pasture next to a river. It was simply splendid. I got to sleep right along a river that was nice and clean. He told me it was safe to swim in and that I could bath in it if I wanted to. I did. It was simply a wonderful way to end a hard and trying day. That night I slept very soundly.
Over all I rode 73.5 miles at 9.6 mph from Whitehall VA to Lexington VA. I rode for 7:38 with a max speed of 34.5 mph.
Day 4
Day 4
The night before, Bob and I had looked on the map and computer to find the quickest way to me next destination. I have not been real concerned with fallowing the rout on my maps exactly. Basically if I can find a shot cut I will take it. Most of the time there is not one, but there are days that I save 10 or 20 miles because of this. At any rate, I left very early because I new that even with my shortcut it would take a long time to get to Charlottesville VA from Richmond VA.
The day went mostly without incident. Half way through it I rode into a gas station to fill my bottles up with water. I hit the gravel with my front tire and my bike went right out from under me. I didn’t hit the ground but my bike did. The only real damage was my cleat. That’s the piece that attaches to the bottom of the shoe and to the peddle. I nearly ripped it in half. This was a problem. I limped the rest of the way into town, about 30 miles and then began looking for some where to replace the part.
I was headed to the bike shop when I am drove up beside me in a car and asked me where I was going. I told him out of town for the night. Then he asked me where I was going long term. I said “Oregon”. Then I asked him if he new where the bike shop I was looking for was. And he, being the nice man he was told me he would drive there and that I could fallow him. To make a long story short the bike shop did not have what I needed. I was very disappointed, that meant that I had to go biking all over town to find a piece that is not very common and was probably not carried in any of the bike shops. This may not sound like a real big deal, but because Charlottesville is so hilly I didn’t want to bike anywhere after peddling about 70 miles already that day and it was rush hour.
The man who drove in front of me to the bike shop looked and me and seeing that I was distraught told me that he would drive me around to the bike shops if it was ok with me, and it was. His name was Wayne. He drove me to every bike shop in town before I gave up and was about to buy completely new peddles, about 100.00 worth of equipment because I couldn’t go over the Blue Mountains on a broken cleat. Before I bought the new peddles Wayne stopped me and said we could go to his place and he could see if he had anything that might help me. As it turned out he did. He had an extra set of peddles that he had not used in a few years and he didn’t think he would be using them any more so he gave them to me. They were worth about 125.00 dollars. I couldn’t believe it. I as shocked. Then he drove me to the edge of town and dropped me off where my map said I was to head out and he said he may get his bike and catch up to me. And he did. He rode all the way to Whitehall with me and found a place for me to sleep behind a church for me because we couldn’t find the camp ground marked on the map for me. Then he gave me one more gift as a “going a way” present as he put it. It was a converter for my tiers so I could pump them up at gas stations from now on instead of using my hand pump.
Wayne was one of the necest and most unexpected people I have ever met in my life. Without him I would ether be 100.00 dollars more pour or still in Charlottesville VA right now.
That day I rode 92.5 miles at 12.17 mph for 7:35 with a max speed of 35.6 mph.
The night before, Bob and I had looked on the map and computer to find the quickest way to me next destination. I have not been real concerned with fallowing the rout on my maps exactly. Basically if I can find a shot cut I will take it. Most of the time there is not one, but there are days that I save 10 or 20 miles because of this. At any rate, I left very early because I new that even with my shortcut it would take a long time to get to Charlottesville VA from Richmond VA.
The day went mostly without incident. Half way through it I rode into a gas station to fill my bottles up with water. I hit the gravel with my front tire and my bike went right out from under me. I didn’t hit the ground but my bike did. The only real damage was my cleat. That’s the piece that attaches to the bottom of the shoe and to the peddle. I nearly ripped it in half. This was a problem. I limped the rest of the way into town, about 30 miles and then began looking for some where to replace the part.
I was headed to the bike shop when I am drove up beside me in a car and asked me where I was going. I told him out of town for the night. Then he asked me where I was going long term. I said “Oregon”. Then I asked him if he new where the bike shop I was looking for was. And he, being the nice man he was told me he would drive there and that I could fallow him. To make a long story short the bike shop did not have what I needed. I was very disappointed, that meant that I had to go biking all over town to find a piece that is not very common and was probably not carried in any of the bike shops. This may not sound like a real big deal, but because Charlottesville is so hilly I didn’t want to bike anywhere after peddling about 70 miles already that day and it was rush hour.
The man who drove in front of me to the bike shop looked and me and seeing that I was distraught told me that he would drive me around to the bike shops if it was ok with me, and it was. His name was Wayne. He drove me to every bike shop in town before I gave up and was about to buy completely new peddles, about 100.00 worth of equipment because I couldn’t go over the Blue Mountains on a broken cleat. Before I bought the new peddles Wayne stopped me and said we could go to his place and he could see if he had anything that might help me. As it turned out he did. He had an extra set of peddles that he had not used in a few years and he didn’t think he would be using them any more so he gave them to me. They were worth about 125.00 dollars. I couldn’t believe it. I as shocked. Then he drove me to the edge of town and dropped me off where my map said I was to head out and he said he may get his bike and catch up to me. And he did. He rode all the way to Whitehall with me and found a place for me to sleep behind a church for me because we couldn’t find the camp ground marked on the map for me. Then he gave me one more gift as a “going a way” present as he put it. It was a converter for my tiers so I could pump them up at gas stations from now on instead of using my hand pump.
Wayne was one of the necest and most unexpected people I have ever met in my life. Without him I would ether be 100.00 dollars more pour or still in Charlottesville VA right now.
That day I rode 92.5 miles at 12.17 mph for 7:35 with a max speed of 35.6 mph.
Day 3
I slept in on Day 3. I was really tiered and I didn’t want to get out of bead, or my tent as the case was. I also only had 50 miles to go that day so it was no big deal. I woke up and packed up all my stuff before heading over to Buddy and Edna’s place for breakfast. It was really nice to have a place to eat breakfast and relax before starting my trip on my Second day of riding. Basically it’s the same idea I talked about in the previous post, that is, any act of kindness no matter how big or small is greatly appreciated. Some one opening up their home or trailer for you to eat breakfast with them and talk to you is a gesture that is not quickly forgotten on a trip like this.
Most of my life, starting when I was young I was taught not to trust strangers. As a small child that is really not a bad thing for parents to teach you. But I am learning more and more that the trusting of total strangers, really putting your life and well-being in their hands is something not only special, but amazing and life changing. Because of SST and this trip I am really learning to trust people, and in trusting them I believe I make them trust worthy. You see if you think of someone as untrustworthy they are much more likely to be untrustworthy in order to fulfill that reputation, however if you think of some one as trustworthy, they are more likely to be trustworthy. I think that believing in people makes them rise to the occasion and be worth believing in. I know that’s the case for me. If you are counting on me I will be there for you, if you think I will steal from you, I will. Its very much the way people work. At least in my experience.
So I set off riding at a nice lazy pace. It really was nice to not be in a rush. On my way into the city I came up to a building with a sine on the top that said Grocery Store and a big gravel parking lot with cars in it. So I decided to stop and take a break, eat some lunch and relax for a few moments. As soon as I was off my bike this man came running up to me asking me if I new that I was on private property. I must confess I didn’t know it was somewhere I shouldn’t be. As it turned out, the building was the man’s house, he just never bothered to take the sine down from the old store he turned into his home. I explained myself and he said it was fine and that I could stay if I wanted to for my break. Then he proceeded to tell me that I couldn’t be to careful and how I shouldn’t trust anyone. In many ways its good sound advice, but I would rather live a shorter life trusting people than a long drawn-out life locked in a cave. So I go on trusting people.
I rode into Richmond and found that riding through Richmond at 7:00 AM is much different than riding through Richmond at 2:30 PM. The streets were crowded and people were in a hurry. It made for unpleasant riding. I finally found the library which was the Virginia State Library, a very nice one. I checked my email and called my host family for the night to get directions to their home before heading off to meet them.
The way to their house was rough to ride, it was a four lain divided highway, my first, but not my last. I finally arrived and met Bob and Margaret and was warmly welcomed into their home. It was my second night and I had a warm bead to sleep in. it was a nice way to finish up the third day of my trip. I got to call home and sleep in a nice warm bead.
For day three I rode 54.7 miles at 12.8 mph. I rode for 4:16 and my top speed was 29.8 miles. It was a nice relaxing day.
Most of my life, starting when I was young I was taught not to trust strangers. As a small child that is really not a bad thing for parents to teach you. But I am learning more and more that the trusting of total strangers, really putting your life and well-being in their hands is something not only special, but amazing and life changing. Because of SST and this trip I am really learning to trust people, and in trusting them I believe I make them trust worthy. You see if you think of someone as untrustworthy they are much more likely to be untrustworthy in order to fulfill that reputation, however if you think of some one as trustworthy, they are more likely to be trustworthy. I think that believing in people makes them rise to the occasion and be worth believing in. I know that’s the case for me. If you are counting on me I will be there for you, if you think I will steal from you, I will. Its very much the way people work. At least in my experience.
So I set off riding at a nice lazy pace. It really was nice to not be in a rush. On my way into the city I came up to a building with a sine on the top that said Grocery Store and a big gravel parking lot with cars in it. So I decided to stop and take a break, eat some lunch and relax for a few moments. As soon as I was off my bike this man came running up to me asking me if I new that I was on private property. I must confess I didn’t know it was somewhere I shouldn’t be. As it turned out, the building was the man’s house, he just never bothered to take the sine down from the old store he turned into his home. I explained myself and he said it was fine and that I could stay if I wanted to for my break. Then he proceeded to tell me that I couldn’t be to careful and how I shouldn’t trust anyone. In many ways its good sound advice, but I would rather live a shorter life trusting people than a long drawn-out life locked in a cave. So I go on trusting people.
I rode into Richmond and found that riding through Richmond at 7:00 AM is much different than riding through Richmond at 2:30 PM. The streets were crowded and people were in a hurry. It made for unpleasant riding. I finally found the library which was the Virginia State Library, a very nice one. I checked my email and called my host family for the night to get directions to their home before heading off to meet them.
The way to their house was rough to ride, it was a four lain divided highway, my first, but not my last. I finally arrived and met Bob and Margaret and was warmly welcomed into their home. It was my second night and I had a warm bead to sleep in. it was a nice way to finish up the third day of my trip. I got to call home and sleep in a nice warm bead.
For day three I rode 54.7 miles at 12.8 mph. I rode for 4:16 and my top speed was 29.8 miles. It was a nice relaxing day.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Day 2
Day two started much as day one ended, the Asian woman was sitting across from me and still looking beat and tired and I still didn’t want to admit to myself that I really didn’t know what I was doing on this trip. I guess starting anything is the hardest part. I didn’t know what I was doing when I started college and I didn’t know what I was doing when I went on SST. I certainly didn’t know what I was doing when I started this bike trip, but as always, I figure things out as I go. Speaking on that topic for a moment, I remember a quote that says, “Experience is what everyone calls their mistakes.” I really hope I don’t end up calling this trip a good experience.
I arrived in Richmond VA at 5:30 AM and was more than slightly deranged. I really had no idea what I was doing so I began putting my bike together and hoping that everything made the tip undamaged. It did, and I assembled my bike with minimal problems. I did have a few security guards standing around gawking at me while I did it though.
At about 7:00 I was on my way. I asked one of the gawking security guards for directions and he gave me enough to get started until I met another man and asked him for further directions. This man was money. He gave me perfect directions to get me though down town Richmond with no problems and then I was off like a streak (a slow, tiered, deranged streak that is). I headed out highway 5 east to Yorktown. Now this was fine, but the first 82 miles of my trip were spent headed east instead of west, not quite what I had planed. The day was sunny and warm, everything went really well until about 20 miles out from Yorktown when I came to the camp ground I was planning on staying in that night after I went the rest of the way to the Atlantic. The problem was that it was closed…indefinitely. As always bad things happen in clusters and this bike trip has been no different. After the camp ground was closed I got onto a road that would take me the rest of the way to Yorktown. The problem was that the road was exposed aggregate, which means very bumpy. On top of that clouds began to role in and the wind picked up. I really thought I was going to get wet.
Things went on like that until I got to Yorktown which is a very pleasant little town, at least the part I was in. Its where General Cornwallis surrendered to George Washington during the Revolutionary war. I spent some time looking around and eating before I headed out to start my trip—heading west.
Now when one is alone and not quite sure what they are going to do to eat or sleep they take every little bit of kindness they can get and savor it. At least that has been my experience. When I went into the restaurant to eat I was seated by a young woman about 16 or 17 years old who was very kind. Now granted it was her job, but at the moment I was elated to be able to talk to any one, especially some one who pretended to care. There is not much worth mentioning here accept that when I asked for some water to fill my bottles she instead took my bottles and filled them for me and brought them back to me. This may seam rather small and insignificant, but when you are alone and dare I say scared…a little, small gestures of kindness go a long ways.
I finished lunch at about 4:00 pm and started biking with all the energy I had left as to find a place before it began raining. I found a visitors center and they located a camp ground for me about 20 miles a way but conveniently on my rout. So I headed off a little more reassured as I now had a place I could sleep that night. It ended up being a very nice camp ground with warm showers and green grass along a river. Quickly, I set up my tent and got ready for bead as it had been a long day. After all preparations were completed I sat down to eat my dinner of power bars and do some journaling when I man walked up to me and introduced himself. His name was Buddy (so you know he was nice). He asked me what I was doing and I simply replied that I was riding my bike home, which just happened to be Oregon. He was quite amazed and began asking me about my trip and looking over all of my gear. I think he was amazed that I could fit so much into two small bags on the back of my bike. Then he did something I didn’t expect, he invited me over for dinner. His wife was in the camper next to me cooking and he just wanted to know if I needed a good hot meal. I did.
The food was great, Edna, Buddy’s wife, cooked me a bowl of chili and gave me more deserts than I could imagine before lending me their phone for me to call my parents and tell them I was ok. She insisted that they were worried about me, which was correct. We talked a bit more about religion and the military. Those things always seem to go hand in hand, even in a peace church. And then I told them I must go to bead. Before I left they insisted that I come over in the morning and eat breakfast with them, which was fine with me.
Over all in day 1 I rode my bike 110 miles at an average speed of 13.3 mph for 8:14 with a max speed of 28 mph. it was a long first day.
I arrived in Richmond VA at 5:30 AM and was more than slightly deranged. I really had no idea what I was doing so I began putting my bike together and hoping that everything made the tip undamaged. It did, and I assembled my bike with minimal problems. I did have a few security guards standing around gawking at me while I did it though.
At about 7:00 I was on my way. I asked one of the gawking security guards for directions and he gave me enough to get started until I met another man and asked him for further directions. This man was money. He gave me perfect directions to get me though down town Richmond with no problems and then I was off like a streak (a slow, tiered, deranged streak that is). I headed out highway 5 east to Yorktown. Now this was fine, but the first 82 miles of my trip were spent headed east instead of west, not quite what I had planed. The day was sunny and warm, everything went really well until about 20 miles out from Yorktown when I came to the camp ground I was planning on staying in that night after I went the rest of the way to the Atlantic. The problem was that it was closed…indefinitely. As always bad things happen in clusters and this bike trip has been no different. After the camp ground was closed I got onto a road that would take me the rest of the way to Yorktown. The problem was that the road was exposed aggregate, which means very bumpy. On top of that clouds began to role in and the wind picked up. I really thought I was going to get wet.
Things went on like that until I got to Yorktown which is a very pleasant little town, at least the part I was in. Its where General Cornwallis surrendered to George Washington during the Revolutionary war. I spent some time looking around and eating before I headed out to start my trip—heading west.
Now when one is alone and not quite sure what they are going to do to eat or sleep they take every little bit of kindness they can get and savor it. At least that has been my experience. When I went into the restaurant to eat I was seated by a young woman about 16 or 17 years old who was very kind. Now granted it was her job, but at the moment I was elated to be able to talk to any one, especially some one who pretended to care. There is not much worth mentioning here accept that when I asked for some water to fill my bottles she instead took my bottles and filled them for me and brought them back to me. This may seam rather small and insignificant, but when you are alone and dare I say scared…a little, small gestures of kindness go a long ways.
I finished lunch at about 4:00 pm and started biking with all the energy I had left as to find a place before it began raining. I found a visitors center and they located a camp ground for me about 20 miles a way but conveniently on my rout. So I headed off a little more reassured as I now had a place I could sleep that night. It ended up being a very nice camp ground with warm showers and green grass along a river. Quickly, I set up my tent and got ready for bead as it had been a long day. After all preparations were completed I sat down to eat my dinner of power bars and do some journaling when I man walked up to me and introduced himself. His name was Buddy (so you know he was nice). He asked me what I was doing and I simply replied that I was riding my bike home, which just happened to be Oregon. He was quite amazed and began asking me about my trip and looking over all of my gear. I think he was amazed that I could fit so much into two small bags on the back of my bike. Then he did something I didn’t expect, he invited me over for dinner. His wife was in the camper next to me cooking and he just wanted to know if I needed a good hot meal. I did.
The food was great, Edna, Buddy’s wife, cooked me a bowl of chili and gave me more deserts than I could imagine before lending me their phone for me to call my parents and tell them I was ok. She insisted that they were worried about me, which was correct. We talked a bit more about religion and the military. Those things always seem to go hand in hand, even in a peace church. And then I told them I must go to bead. Before I left they insisted that I come over in the morning and eat breakfast with them, which was fine with me.
Over all in day 1 I rode my bike 110 miles at an average speed of 13.3 mph for 8:14 with a max speed of 28 mph. it was a long first day.
Day 1
OK well I had my blog all typed out on Vista, but Vista sucks so I can’t open it on XP so here I am retyping everything for you all. Day one was spent on a bus. I got a Gray Hound ticket to Richmond VA where I would start my journey. The ride was miserable. There are a few things that happened on it that are worth mentioning. One being the first man I sat next to. Really all he did was made me loose a little more faith in this country, actually that’s about all my bus ride did. Let me explain. The man kept telling me he was not a violent person, but he was willing to kick down the door of the child’s house that made fun of his son and, “kick the ass” of the person who taught that child to be mean. Now don’t get me wrong, I see the value in standing up for oneself every now and again, but that seems to be going a bit far. Even so, if the man just admitted to being violent it wouldn’t have bothered me as much, but the fact that he actually believed in his own mind that he was peaceful is slightly scary. I guess it was a rough way to start the trip. I new starting this that I would need help from a lot of people, strangers even or mostly, and meeting people like that did not give me much hope.
The second man I talked to was a trucker...also a disheartening experience. Basically I learned that you should never make a truck hit its breaks. That’s bad. Now normally this wouldn’t be so bad, but I was setting out to ride y bicycle across the country, I figured I was sure to get in someone’s way at some point. As it turns out, he was right, when you make truckers hit their breaks they get really pissed off. Now don’t get me wrong, I do all I can to stay out of the way of moving vehicles, no mater their size. But it happens. I guess the thing that disturbed me the most about these two men is that they really didn’t know much about the world or life in any different application than the one they had experienced in central Kentucky. But they still managed to think they new just about everything. This is a bit hard to deal with coming out of an academic setting.
The third experience was the hardest to deal with. It was late, about 11:30 and I was tiered leaning up against the window of the bus as we pulled into a bus stop. An Asian woman came walking out to the bus station. The manager of the bus station came rushing up and with a forceful blast against the dour he forced the woman back into the bus station while screaming, “How many times do I have to tell you to stay inside until I announce that you can come out.” I can understand having a bad day and over reacting, but a few moments later when a few white people walked through the same door, the man who forced the woman back into the bus station calmly announced over the loud speaker that they needed to go back inside. Quite a different experience than what I have been used to in college. In many ways I wanted to go and talk to the woman and apologies for my country and the ignorant people who seam to be so plentiful here, but instead I just shrugged my shoulders and thought, “Welcome to America”. I didn’t think a white male approaching her in the dark and attempting to talk to her would calm her nerves, so I let it go. I don’t think I have ever been so disappointed in both myself and my fellow countrymen. And that’s how day 1 ended, I was alone, cold, and very discouraged.
The second man I talked to was a trucker...also a disheartening experience. Basically I learned that you should never make a truck hit its breaks. That’s bad. Now normally this wouldn’t be so bad, but I was setting out to ride y bicycle across the country, I figured I was sure to get in someone’s way at some point. As it turns out, he was right, when you make truckers hit their breaks they get really pissed off. Now don’t get me wrong, I do all I can to stay out of the way of moving vehicles, no mater their size. But it happens. I guess the thing that disturbed me the most about these two men is that they really didn’t know much about the world or life in any different application than the one they had experienced in central Kentucky. But they still managed to think they new just about everything. This is a bit hard to deal with coming out of an academic setting.
The third experience was the hardest to deal with. It was late, about 11:30 and I was tiered leaning up against the window of the bus as we pulled into a bus stop. An Asian woman came walking out to the bus station. The manager of the bus station came rushing up and with a forceful blast against the dour he forced the woman back into the bus station while screaming, “How many times do I have to tell you to stay inside until I announce that you can come out.” I can understand having a bad day and over reacting, but a few moments later when a few white people walked through the same door, the man who forced the woman back into the bus station calmly announced over the loud speaker that they needed to go back inside. Quite a different experience than what I have been used to in college. In many ways I wanted to go and talk to the woman and apologies for my country and the ignorant people who seam to be so plentiful here, but instead I just shrugged my shoulders and thought, “Welcome to America”. I didn’t think a white male approaching her in the dark and attempting to talk to her would calm her nerves, so I let it go. I don’t think I have ever been so disappointed in both myself and my fellow countrymen. And that’s how day 1 ended, I was alone, cold, and very discouraged.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Practice Run
OK so I start my bike trip on Sunday. Saturday I am headed over to Virginia to touch the Atlantic coast so this can truly be a cross country trip. Thursday I took my first full length practice run through central Kentucky and I feel pretty good about it. I rode 70.5 miles in 5 hours and 30 minutes, my average speed was 12.6 mph and my top speed was 38 mph. A few things I learned on my practice run were that 1) head wind sucks, or blows depending on your philosophy or world view. It can and does half your speed on a bike. I was peddling 9 mph down hill. 2) it really does help to stop and eat every 30-45 minutes. This does a few things, it keeps you from getting hungry, and it keeps you rested and allows your body to refuel.
I will have a lot more to say after I actually start my trip. Here are some pics of my ride in KY.
I will have a lot more to say after I actually start my trip. Here are some pics of my ride in KY.
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