August 31, 2012

Life

I've been on the road back to my non-traveling life; it's been a week since I returned home and I'm  missing riding with an intended goal each day. Waking up in the same place every day is still a little odd, but it sure is fantatical to wake up and stumble to the kitchen to my beloved french press; coffee on the road is horrid.

Things I learned: gas station coffee is better than hotel coffee, why washboards were once used, that rednecks do not scare me, diaper rash cream is a life saver, shooting a dog with a water bottle is enough to get them to back off, sun block can only do so much, riding with the sunrise and sunset is gorgeous, cows can run quite fast, there are a lot of dead armadillos in Missouri, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are still delicious, even after several loaves of them, Pop Tarts still make me gag, it's easy to break a lexan spoon in a half gallon of ice cream, riding uphill even on an unloaded bike can still be a grind, 110 degrees makes for a very unproductive day, there is a lot of oil in Kansas, make sure you're carrying the right size adjustable wrench to fit your lock ring tool before you actually need it, you can keep your bike in perfect running condition if you just degrease and lube the chain often, and it's always more fun riding with a friend.

A few photos from life lately:

The moment I returned home and surprised my mom





Bryant Park with Promise and Whitney




McKinley on Skype!


August 26, 2012

Yorktown to DC to Home

380 miles. In a car.

I've made it home, the official, official, for realsies end to the adventure. Well, the physical part is over, but the journey always continues, so I've learned.

Yorktown was a delight. It was filled with grandparents, grandchildren, and 3 very classy young adults. The night we finished, we listened to a live jazz band on the town green with all of these sophisticated grandparents; I felt a little out of place in my spandex pants, but I fully enjoyed a relaxing evening before the madness began.

McKinley and I thumbed a ride from Yorktown to Newport News to avoid a 15 mile bike ride. Sure, it was only 15 miles, but our bodies were just over it. Plus, I didn't want to get all sweaty if I didn't have to. So we picked up the beast of a rental car, boxed her bike, shipped all of her worldly possessions back to Tennessee, met up with Stephanie and Brian for lunch, in which I twice had to drive over the 4-mile wide James River because Stephanie was too interested in our stories to be a good navigator, and then headed up to DC.

DC was great! Andy came down from Baltimore to spend the evening with 2 fabulous biker chicks. In tow was a gigantic bag of Maryland crabs, and some sauteed fruit and brownies to celebrate our kick-ass adventure. We played an epic long game of Jenga, which proved to be an intense match of 3, learned about the "trap door" on crabs, and had a feast until 3 am; I don't know how I didn't have a raging stomach ache after all of that food. Andy is a 24-7 party, meaning, he's always ridiculously silly, so it was a perfect second ending to the TransAm.

I woke up in the morning with a slight feeling of dread; McKinley and I were going our separate ways. Ugh, I always hate this part. Anyway, we navigated the city streets to get McKinley to one of the many museums. We hugged tight hugs, and of course, I cried. By the way, crying is not conducive to driving around DC, if you didn't already know that. An overwhelming sadness poured over me as I drove away. I never noticed her sunglasses go down over her eyes as I pulled away, but apparently they did. The closet crier strikes again. I just hope, for the benefit of strangers, it wasn't the ugly-cry-in-a-random-gas-station-in-Kansas cry. (Sorry McK, but I just blew up your closet spot)

I cried some more on the way home. The terrible news arrived of a semi-estranged friends dad who had just passed 2 days prior, and already being so sad, I sort of lost my shit. But I rallied well with a superbly awesome jam session; DC has some fantastic radio stations, and I clung on to them until I was listening to fuzz. I never thought I'd be so excited to blast Rolling in the Deep, and didn't realize how much I needed that alone time before getting home.

My plan was to surprise my mom; she thought I would be home 2 days later. After returning the rental car, I biked home, in a DRESS, and got a million looks. As I began to pedal away, I went to point out pot holes, forgetting I didn't have a riding partner behind me. Habit, I suppose. Once I arrived at the top of my street, I set up my camera and was able to video the whole surprise; my brother, Frankie, answered the door with a look of shock, and I bum-rushed my up the stairs and hugged my crying mother. Poncho, the best dog in the whole world, was also insanely excited to see his awesome momma once again.

So, that's my story. I am home and still riding my bike every day. I was so sick of riding, but I knew once everything was taken away from me, I'd want it all back, and that's just how it goes. Yesterday, I did a short 15 miles, but I cranked it hard in a high gear and went up hills fast; Hills that normally I went up at 4 or 5 mph, I was rocking it at a breezy 8 or 9. As sick as I was of being in constant transit, I miss my cycling life, and of course, my cycling partner; I have plans to visit in the fall.

Some favorite photos from Virginia:



















August 23, 2012

Williamsburg to Yorktown

13 miles. The end of the line.

We are here in Yorktown, and wheels have been dipped in the water. It's official, we both have biked across the United States.

Just like last night, Yvonne rode behind us in our girly peleton. No big deal, just 2 girls on bicycles and one on a motorcycle. It sure was a badass way to enter Yorktown.

The ride in was a lovely end to this grand adventure; lots of wide road with a large tree canopy. And traffic going into Yorktown wasn't all that bad either.

I can't say I was feeling too emotional, but when I saw the York River, I had a lump in my throat. We pedaled alongside it for a while; just long enough to lose the stupid lump. I think it was the excitement of hitting the coast, and a sigh of relief that I can finally rest my tired body.

We hit the victory monument and high fived on our victory. And Yvonne snapped a million photos for us.

To officiate this journey, we rolled our hogs down to the water to dip our wheels. Success!

Kevin, McKinley's friend, came to take photos and spend the day with us. We all chatted, had celebratory beers, listened to a live jazz concert in town, and toasted with champagne. It was a relaxing day and a fantastic ending.

Right now, I still feel like I have more riding to do, so I'm not feeling too much, emotionally. I'm sure once I'm traveling home, sans McKinley, it will hit me like a ton of bricks. For now, I will enjoy our night in Yorktown.

And...that's a wrap.

More adventures, visits, and surprise over the next few days as I travel home.

Photo: Victory, at the victory monument.


Lynchburg to Farmville

60 miles. Dinner and a show.

Today we landed at the home of McKinley's relatives, Gary and Cinda, and Cinda's mother, Ginnie. McKinley hadn't seen these generous spirits in about 10 years, so they had lots of catching up to do.

We were treated to a fabulous lunch of fresh salad and tomato soup; It was a soup kind of day, since the rain dumped from the sky. Did I ever mention how I hate being stuck in the rain? Well, I just did.

Lots of relaxing, chatting, and tv watching. A perfect day out in the country.

Cinda cooked such an amazing, healthy dinner, it certainly ranks one of the best of this trip. We had an assortment of roasted veggies and potatoes, faux chicken lettuce wraps, portobello parm, mozzarella and tomato salad, and hot, fresh bread. And a glass of red wine, to boot. Does a meal get any better? I can't wait to be a vegetarian again, the eating is so damn good.

Ginny told us a few choice jokes, one involving a coal miner on his honeymoon. It was slightly naughty, so I'll leave a bit to the imagination. Oh, and Ginny is a witty, soft-spoken woman in her 80's with a dry sense of humor, what a pistol! I asked her if she would join us for the rest of the trip to tell us jokes when we need a pick-me-up. I'm not sure she was convinced.

For the third time since leaving home, I used a computer. I did a little research on car rentals; turns out, it costs an arm and a leg to return the car to a different location. Looks like I'm pedaling home for free. Juuuuussssst kidding. I think I'll be ready to chuck my bike into the Atlantic when I see the water.

Thank you Gary, Cinda and Ginny for taking us in and feeding us 2 delicious meals! Now, for a cozy nights sleep...




August 21, 2012

Farmville to Williamsburg

115 miles. Peleton with a motorcycle.

After a delicious smoothie breakfast with Cinda and Gary, Cinda drove us back to the route. We took the brand new High Bridge rail trail out of Farmville, and had an easy 10 mile jaunt before dealing with cars again.

I think the only think that kept me focused today was knowing I'd hit my first century, and knowing Yvonne would be meeting us somewhere along the route on her motorcycle. Yvonne, a friend from home, was already planning to ride down to Virginia today, so she took a detour to visit.

Yvo and I shared a bunch of texts to track each other, so I knew just about when we would see her. At the 20 mile countdown to Williamsburg, she came rolling in behind us beeping her horn. I was so excited!

Yvonne escorted us the last 20 miles; she blocked traffic from behind and lit up the road ahead. McKinley has been feeling sick and fatigued from a mystery disease, and I wanted to hammer out the last 20 miles fast, so she drafted me as I pushed and pulled the pedals harder than I ever have. I felt like my legs would tear off of my body; I have no idea where I had the strength to turn the pedals like that for 20 miles. We stopped once to take sunset photos, and my legs cranked steady for the rest of the time.

We rolled in drenched in sweat and craving carbs. The 3 of us chatted over pasta and beer. It was a jam-packed day filled with lots of excitement. And I'm so thrilled Yvo was able to draft in our peleton :)

As my second to last day on this adventure, it has been epic.

Photos: antlers we found on the roadside, mileage, and sunset on a bridge near Williamsburg





August 18, 2012

Christiansburg to Lynchburg

I am done riding my bike.

Lynchburg is an armpit. If there's a historic or nice section, we did not have the pleasure of seeing it. We pedaled through a semi ghetto, and was yelled at by a bunch of young hillbillies in a pick up to 'get out of the !@#$ing road.' Somewhere else in America I would have revolted back, but I didn't feel comfortable, so I just shook my head and teemed with anger. McKinley grunted through clenched teeth.

This is a photo of me attempting to hitchhike while napping at Dollar General. It was rather unsuccessful.


August 17, 2012

Marion to Christiansburg

71 miles. Another brush with the law.

Yes, that's right, we had our second brush with the police today. We accidentally followed signs that led us on to an interstate, and before we knew it, it was too late to turn around. Just as we decided to pedal on to the next exit, I heard a siren. We were getting pulled over. On bicycles. Secretely, I loved it. What's funnier than being pulled over on a BICYCLE? The officers laughed, but made us wiggle under a barbed wire fence to get on the right road, which paralleled the highway. We pushed all of our gear under the fence, and he passed us our bikes above it. Off we went, and giggled about what just happened.

Today we sang all sorts of made up songs to pass time. Also, we are trying to learn some Virginia songs to up our karma level. There's one by Louis Armstrong, something about "Carry me back to old Virginnie." If we sing that over and over, that should get the good karma covered. I love Virginia!

We crossed the AT in Atkins today. As soon as we hit the trail, I threw my bike down and went running and screaming down the trail. Excited much? McKinley and I took an extremely short "hike" to say we walked on the trail, and short as in, 50 feet. I remembered the section perfectly as if it were yesterday. It's so weird that I can remember exactly what a lot of it looks like, after seeing 2,000 miles of trees. Lucky for McKinley, she will be back in that exact spot when she thru hikes.

One thing McKinley and I just agreed we definitely will not miss doing: washing our clothes in the shower every night. Soon enough.





August 16, 2012

Damascus to Marion

30 miles. The last "rest" day.

Since we are closing in on the final leg, today is considered a rest day at 30 miles. It sure was restful. There are no more short days or off days left.

We didn't set alarms and woke up when we woke up; It's one of life's simple pleasures. Alarms make me angry.

The laziness continued at Mojoe's, where we drank coffee for a few hours and relaxed in big leather lazy boy chairs. I love hanging around cozy coffee shops, there haven't been many on this trip. So we just chatted, sipped, and avoided the day. Neither McKinley or I ever seem to be in a hurry to move, which is probably why we make such great travel partners.

The riding was easy and beautiful today; everywhere I looked, the southern Appalachians surrounded us. Though we're still in the mountains, the number of hills are becoming less and less as the days pass. I'm not complaining. And I'm loving being in the Appalachians. Each day gives us Skyline Drive-like views, it's just astounding.

We decided to cut the day short in Marion after landing at a cozy cafe for dinner. This just makes tomorrow longer, so we will have less loitering time. Dang.

A reunion of all of the friends I have made out here is in the works since we all seem to be finishing around the same time; DC is where it's at. First there's Ross and Bob, who I rode with for a few days in Oregon; they rode the TransAm to the Northern Tier. Then there's Kim, who ended up also hopping up to the Northern Tier to ride with Randy. And Leslie, who I met in Mitchell, then saw again in Baker City; she stopped riding due to a knee injury, but will be in DC for an internship. And of course, McKinley, who is staying with her friend Kevin for a few days. Also, the great Andy from Baltimore is coming since he was never able to ride with me. I'm so excited for this reunion and hope that all of the pieces fall into place. The players who will be missing: Whitney and Promise; they will be headed up to the city for a while, so I will see them in a few weeks. And of course, Pete and Lauren, who are now in Boston preparing for grad school. A Beantown reunion is also up for discussion; I hope to visit them in the fall.

Here's to the next few hundred miles, there isn't much time left here.

Duffield to Damascus

73 miles. Creepin on the Creeper.

Ahh, it feels good to be home. And home, as in, Damascus, an old favorite AT town; it feels like I was just walking in to town. That was over 3 years ago.

The morning started out horribly, and I wasn't sure there would be any redemption. We began in a downpour on a highway with no shoulder. That's a scary combination that I don't wish to experience again. We had to pull over and jump behind the guard rail to take cover under some trees, which wasn't that much of a rain block anyway. The rain poured off of our heads and salt ran in my eyes. I ate a jelly sandwich while we waited. Just livin the dream.

Knowing Damascus and the Creeper Trail was at the end of our day was the only thing that kept me going. And shortly after the downpour, the sun came out and the sky turned a powder blue. There's always a silver lining.

We stopped in Abingdon, an adorable, quaint historic little town with outdoor cafe's and delicious restaurants. Dinner was at 128 Pecan, where I scarfed down a big bowl of a spicy shrimp pasta. It isn't often that we have access to good food; usually our meals come from gas stations, fast food joints, or convenience stores. Elva, our spunky waitress, was so excited and impressed by our trip that any time she asked a question, her reaction to our answer was, "Shut up!" She was a pistol.

The Creeper Trail was awesome! An easy, gradual, 16 mile downhill ride from Abingdon to Damascus. The trail was beautiful and had plenty of areas where it opened up to the rolling Virginia hills; we passed farms and homesteads along the way when not riding the magical tunnel of trees. Both McKinley and I grinned all the way to Damascus. And agreed that the TransAm should include more rail trails, or at least present them as alternate routes.

I am loving me some Virginia.






August 14, 2012

Middlesboro to Duffield

60 miles. I feel like I'm home.

Attention, attention...is this thing on? We've made it to the tenth state, Virginia, the last on this journey. I feel like I'm being comforted by an old friend, as I make my way through the Appalachians. I love these mountains, they are home to me.

McKinley and I were both extra spunky today, so we sang songs and chatted most of the day. Maybe it was because we are getting so close to finishing? Maybe because we are in Virginia? Or maybe it was that gigantic Cracker Barrel breakfast.

The southern Appalachian mountains are so beautiful, and we were lucky enough to have a million views of them today. Layers upon layers of purpley mountains, just like the views from Max Patch outside of the Smokies.

One hill was just so long and tiring, that we decided to push the bikes for a bit. Well, being that we were moving so slow, we met a friend. I heard a faint meow, and all of a sudden, the most adorable kitten came rumbling down the hillside and onto the highway. She was friendly and purring and craving attention. And because she was so persistent and in need of love, I pushed my allergic reactions aside to love up on her. She crawled all over me, and underneath my reflective vest. I have no idea where she came from since there were no houses around, but I think she was lost; she was bony and hungry. We tried to shoo her back up the hill and away from traffic, it didn't work. I was distraught, thinking of the alternative; we couldn't take her though, neither of us had any way to carry her. So we left her with a bunch of crackers to distract her, and she began to gobble them up immediately. Kitty, I sure hope you found your way back home, because I can't stop thinking about your adorable little face. Oh, and she was part siamese with the classic crossed, blue eyes. I loved that kitty.

I am so tired, my body hurts, and my shorts are becoming thread-barren and see-through. New muscles are beginning to hurt. I never get enough sleep, and climbing short hills now sucks all of my energy dry. At 30 miles, I'm ready to pull over and call it a day, when 2 months ago, 30 miles was one third of my day. We are in the final leg, and my body is saying, "Thank you, now please stop." Hold on, body, we are almost done.

And a big thank you to the employee at the IGA that bought our groceries, that was too kind.