I've been an athlete for as long as I can remember. When I was old enough to play softball for my town league, I did. When I was old enough to join the team in grammar school, I did. Then I was snuck into another town's summer league, because my moms best friend was the coach. And, once again in high school, I joined. I had always been on a losing team, but I never cared; just being able to play the game made me happy. When I was a sophomore, I cracked my first and only grand-slam, the pinnacle of my softball playin' career. It was amazing!

I vaguely remember my first bicycle; it was pink. At age 7, when I found out my grandma Vera died, I just had to go out for a ride, and once I did, I felt much better. Then when I was older, maybe 10 or 12, I received my first 10-speed, also pink (and purple, too!) And then there was the hideous fluorescent orange-with-black-paint-splatter bmx-type bike. Some girl who didn't like me, laughed at my bike and called it a "cheap Toys R Us bike." So I challenged her to a race around the block, knowing how hard I could pump my legs. And yup, you guessed it, the cheap-o won! I kicked the hell out of her and her fancy bike! Fast forward a decade, and I ponied up the money for a crappy mountain bike. I have a history of riding crappy bikes, but it didn't matter, because just being able to ride was the point.

Now, I still own that mountain bike, but it just sits next to the bright orange lawn mower collecting dust. After I bought my Surly, I decided I wanted to bicycle-commute a bit locally (I'm too afraid to leave my blue beauty locked up just anywhere). So I bought a neat-o folding bike from a guy on Craigslist who had no idea how to fold it, but with my mechanical brain, I figured it out. I haven't used it as much as planned, but I'll keep it around; it's adorable, fun, and I get funny looks when I ride it. Also, I found that I smile a lot when I ride it, the upright position just makes me feel giddy for some reason.

For many years, skiing sounded like a fun sport to take up. When I was 18 or 19, I learned the art of "pizza and french fries." Rather than taking lessons, a few friends took me straight up the mountain, knowing that I pick up any athletic-type thing very easily. So, like a wild beast, I skied and tumbled my way down the mountain. I had no control over my speed, but I was having a blast. A few tries later, it finally clicked, and I became a whiz at whipping around the edge of a mountain, but with far greater control. Before long, I was talked into skiing some black diamonds. Some made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and some were so much fun that I didn't care if the hairs stood up.

Then my passion for hiking came along; I was about 25. I had only backpacked about 4 times before deciding to hike 2,000 miles, but I knew it was for me. And that's how I feel about riding cross-country. I currently have 1 short tour under my belt, and if I don't get in another before tackling 4,000 miles, well, I'm not worried. I can ride a bike, I can read maps quite well, I know how to read people, and I sure as heck know how to live outdoors in any weather imaginable (80 mph winds while crossing a 5-mile bald stretch, golf ball-sized hail, knee-deep snow, sleet, 7 degrees, 95 degrees, and lightening striking close enough to smell the tree that it struck). Only this time when weather threatens, I'll be sitting on 30 pounds of steel instead of having 2 metal poles in my hands. Gulp.

So ya see, I have always been athletic, adventurous, curious, a thrill-seeker, risk-taker, and moderately crazy to do the things I do. It's only natural that I combine my love for the outdoors and biking, and ride right the hell across the country.