50 Days

A beautifully colored set of 12 ACA maps, outlining a ribbon of magical mystery from coast to coast, has arrived. I've looked over what my first few days will be; I have never been more excited to pedal down the Oregon coast. I'm picturing endless blue skies, cotton ball clouds, crashing waves, and a light warm breeze. In all likelihood, it will pour buckets, just because I'm an '09 AT hiker (my '09 comrades can commiserate).

I intently studied all of the famous passes on the TransAm, and wondered how ridiculously hard they will be, or easy? The Rockies are so different than the Appalachians, and I'm thinking that biking them will be similar to hiking them; fairly level terrain, very gradual ups, summiting a pass, and very gradual downs. Cycling the Appalachians should be as manic as hiking them; rolling hills, and crazy steep ups and downs (sometimes for absolutely no reason), or as hikers call them, PUDS (pointless ups and downs). I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm going to fall in love with cycling the Rockies. 

There will be lots of blood, sweat and tears between OR and the Appalachians, but I'm already supremely excited to cycle through a half-dozen trail towns in VA that I've visited on foot. One town in particular: Catawba- To once again, eat myself into a miserable oblivion at the Homeplace Restaurant. The day my crew and I arrived in Catawba was also the day of our most ridiculous hitchhike. Period. Read about it here. You're welcome, ladies. 

Well, I've collected everything I need. I put new tires on my bike, am still breaking in my Brooks Saddle, picked up a fancy jersey with REI dividends, mastered clipless pedals (without falling!), and, thanks to Andy, in a few days will be learning how to replace cables, adjust shifters and derallieurs, true a wheel and replace broken spokes. In other words, I'm ready. 

Andy.

Tires.

Another official moment: I'm a cyclist!

Today was one of those best-day-ever days. And I had an a-ha moment: I feel like I now identify more as a cyclist.

Kelly and I met for a ride, and we pedaled through the beautiful rolling green countryside of Colts Neck. Think: farms, horses, and land of amazing apple pies. The sky was a deep shade of blue, with puffy white cotton ball clouds. The wild flowers are blooming, and the scent of pine was in the air. Ahh, spring has sprung.

As I tucked down low and brought my chin close to my handlebars on a downhill, I thought to myself that I wished I was on a road bike going faster; I was already going 30 mph on my nearly 35 lb steel horse. For most of the ride, I managed to keep up with Kelly, who was riding a road bike that's probably 15 lbs lighter than mine. Oh, AND she's a hardcore athlete, training for her second triathlon. Yep, I'd like to think I'm on pace with someone who is rough and tough. I did, however, get dropped on a bunch of uphills.

I love my bike. I love my new pedals. I love that I can push it fast(ish), even though it's heavy. I love that it can carry everything I need to live. There's nothing I don't love about my bike. But today's ride had me craving more. I can now see myself on a road bike, zipping along at fast clip, bombing up and down hills. My next bike will be a road bike.

According to Kelly's computer, we rode 36 miles, and according to mine, we rode 37. Thirty seven sounds way more badass, so I'm going with that number.

Showing off our fire arms in a restricted area

And quite literally, a fire arm. Let the cycling tan begin! (It hurts like hell, by the way)

I'm going going, back back, to...Seattle

It's never really real, until that one-way plane ticket is purchased. Well, consider it really real. The so-cheap-it's-unheard-of fares backed me into a corner and made me choose a date, seconds before clicking "purchase." And within a few hours, POOF, my entire plan for the West coast fell neatly into place, without even trying. I love how that happens, like magic.

Five days after my 31st birthday, I'll swap the East coast for the West coast, and will not see the ocean again until I dip my front wheel into the Atlantic. I have some super-secret sneaky plans up my sleeve for my arrival back home, but I'll keep them to myself for now.

T minus 74 days...I think? (math was never my strong point, people!)

Where I'll probably spend half a day, eating all kinds of junk

More Moments

Today, March 2nd, is 3 years since I summited Springer Mountain, and began walking to Maine. In the craziness of this typical real-world Friday, I was able to take a few moments to reflect: I baked my favorite cookies, sea salted whole wheat chocolate chip, washed them down with a latte, and thought some thoughts.

Three years ago at this exact minute, I was settling in for a very, very cold first night on the mountain. I ate angel hair spaghetti with powdered tomato sauce, and filtered water from the pvc-piped spring. The temps dropped to a balmy 7 degrees. I never slept a wink.

Those are moments I will not soon forget.

Moments

I often consider this: had Kelly (E) not dated an old friend of mine, then I wouldn't know her, and if I didn't know her, then I wouldn't know about long distance hiking, wouldn't have hiked the AT, and wouldn't have met Ducky, who taught me about long distance cycling. I wouldn't have been led down this unbelievable path that has taught me what's important in life.   

It's incredible how one moment, or a night of bonding over a game of Egyptian Rat Screw, can change the course of your life. I wonder if I was ever that one moment for someone else. 

A favorite moment of mine:

Sunset on Little Haystack Mountain/White Mountains, NH

Overnighter

My friend, Will, and I took a short out-and-back overnighter this weekend. We biked a beautiful, 40 mile section of the Atlantic Coast route; the section we biked followed along the Delaware River in NJ and PA.

Some things I learned on the trip: I love stopping for coffee and pastries in the middle of the day when it's chilly out, I need a way to keep snacks handy to munch and ride, headwinds really slow you down, even going downhill, chocolate GU smothered on a banana is delightful, and trying to keep up with a cyclist with quads bigger than my head is extremely difficult.

Here's my action shot that Will snapped (I was too lazy to take any, myself):

Inspiration

Before I hiked the AT, I read journal after journal (www.trailjournals.com) and pined over a life on the trail. It was how I learned and gained inspiration. I saw countless photos of the many places I would visit; I fantasized about climbing those very same mountains, touching those very same border signs, and seeing those exact same vistas that make your heart skip a beat. I had a fire within me that was so fierce, so unstoppable; I had to hike the AT.

Somewhere along in my browsing for info on the TransAmerica Trail, I found this blog that really, really, hooked me in. My mind had already been made up that I'd bike cross country, but the route had yet to be determined. Randomly stumbling upon RJ's blog answered that question.

Then I found this video that she created. When I first watched it, I put it on full-screen, threw my legs up on my desk, leaned back and watched it on my 24" monitor; I had the feeling of "Yes, YES, I will DO this!" That intense fire was rekindled; I knew I had to bike cross country...so I will.

Note: Take 20 minutes out of your day to watch the video, because if it doesn't inspire you to ride a bike cross country, or even across town, it'll at least allow you to see some wonderful sights this country has to offer.