Retrospect: Leg 1 from San Francisco to Salt Lake City

Map and Pics:  Click Here for Map and Pics.

Miles 856 Miles, 33700 feet of climb , Days 1-11, CA, NV, UT

Discovery of My Limits




Plane landing over San Francisco Bay

I am actually glad I did not know what was going to happen. Thanks to my airline, I started off on the wrong foot by being late for check-in. The reception by America by Bicycle staff was, “Dave’s late, but he’s here now.” Don’t get me wrong, they truly were glad I finally made it. Little did they know this was going to be a recurring theme for the next two months.

I had heard that the best vacations were those where your world gets turned upside down, you exit your normal life, and you diligently seek discovery and change. Hopefully that change is good, and that you live through it. This vacation was all of that, and all of that multiplied by fifty two days. I looked around the room at that first meeting and saw nobody like me. The most striking difference was that these folks were ready to ride and to ride fast. I was a bundle of fears (and rightly so), whereas my fellow riders were the epitome of confidence. The first fear that came over me was my perspective. I saw this as a vacation, my peers saw rightly that this was a high risk - high reward challenge.

Our Initial Briefing - I was scared to death!

I actually suffered for weeks on how I was going to introduce myself at the opening meeting. I had planned to have a potpourri of somewhat humble comments spiced with humor. I discovered after hearing the first ten riders synopsize their credentials that I had no business being allowed in the same room with them. Their concerns were quite different than mine, and I didn’t want to risk ridicule right out of the box. When my turn came to speak I told them that 50 pounds ago at Christmas my wife purchased for me my very first road bike and this tour package. She decided to sacrifice her summer this year so that I could fulfill a dream I have had since childhood, and helped me with diet and scheduling training time to get me here that day. It was the best gift a husband could ever receive and I was determined not to disappoint her. When asked about any charity I mentioned methodology, not message, not wanting to get branded and isolated as the tour’s evangelist. If my faith was to become apparent, it would come later through deeds and not words. I included no humor, and shelved my prepared remarks to tell my fellow riders that I was open for any advice that would help me make it to New Hampshire.  After hearing the others I decided not mention my professional background or other interests. I truly was an alien in this foreign world. Upside down? Absolutely, and hanging by my toes!

So what were my goals going into the ride?

1.  Using the ride time for active deep thought. The focus was first on how to honor God through my conduct, and second in formulating the content of my next books. Specifically I wanted to flesh out the outlines I have made for books three, four, and five. My third book has the theme of goodness and my hope was to find examples of goodness as I rode my bike across America. The tangible goal was to have the storyboard complete by my crossing the Mississippi River.

2. Honor my employer by keeping our prearranged work schedule. My absence in the office increased the work load on my teammates and I was determined to do what I could to help. They are not just peers, they are friends.

3. Honor my commitment to keep all those who are praying for me informed on my progress. One friend installed on my smart phone an App to trace my route and post pictures. My daughter took on the impossible task of teaching me how to blog in HTML. My personal goal in this was to divorce myself from my world of statistics and analyses and focus on producing a short daily narrative that my dear friends would enjoy reading. This was my most challenging goal.

4. Honor those who have faith in me to complete the challenge. This would mean taking care of my body, watching out for those riding with me, dealing with daily issues and disappointments, and hopefully gain the physical and mental conditioning to make it all the way to the Atlantic.

Those who began the ride in San Francisco

The first days of the challenge was a week of rude awakenings. Adrenaline got me to the Pacific, through the hills of San Francisco, and over the Golden Gate Bridge. Then we headed east and the enormity of the challenge slammed me as we rode over the ghastly littered roads that followed the north shore of San Pablo Bay. My rear tire suffered a massive blowout as we approached the city of Vallejo. When the SAG support wrote me a $61 bill for parts to repair my tire I thought to myself this was going to be a long trip. When we checked into our first hotel I became terrified. It was a crack house with dopers at the pool using their needles to openly shoot up or snorting their drugs. At least they weren’t noisy once they mellowed out. (In Alabama the mitigation for such risks have pearl handles, not pearl izumi's.) The SAG support was great, and by bike shop standards a fair price for parts. That did not counter the AbB corporate route planner’s choice to house us in such unsafe conditions. I felt sorry for Michelle, AbB lead for this ride, to be subject to repeated requests to explain the corporate decision. She never did answer. This first round of accommodations negated all the goodwill AbB had earned up to then. The most obvious act of goodness on our first day of riding was divine protection for all of us from those who might have done us harm. Maybe I am too sensitive to this.



Paul, better known as Sarge, at a SAG stop in California

As we rode east through California we left the ugly underbelly of society and feasted on the delights of the lush California Central Valley. Everything was so healthy, places looked prosperous, and we had the fog of the City by the Bay well behind us. It was clear to all that I was not of the caliber of the good riders but yet was graciously adopted by others. We enjoyed getting to know each other and hearing each other’s stories. Once past Sacramento the serious business of hill climbing started and until we reached Sparks, NV the hills just came on coming. I was woefully unprepared for this and the downhill was ten times as terrifying to me as the uphill. There are no hills in Alabama that compare in grade and thin air we encountered. By the time the Sierra Nevada was behind us I firmly sealed my membership in the elite “Final Four.”  And then the heat… Sparks, Nevada treated us to temperatures up to 109 degrees. The first critical test of my ability was now over. I was still hanging in there, friendships were being formed, and better yet, California was now behind us. Soon Nevada passed under our pedals too, and on the last day of that state I accomplished my first century with an average speed of 17 mph. This was amazing, and I was feeling good. It didn’t hurt my outlook on life that the accommodations and restaurants were improving too.  And then the Great Salt Lake… too bright outside to even take a picture. It was a nose down day, the day to get it done, and then soak in the shower.  

One of the judgment errors I made in Nevada was not seeking medical help when I needed it. Shortly after leaving Sparks I came down with something I thought to be a urinary tract infection. It got very bad to the point where the tough-guy wishful thinking within me surrendered and I went to the emergency room in Winnemucca, NV. Part of that decision was the fact there was no hospital for the next four days. The news was worse than I expected. Although similar in effect, I was not suffering an UTI but most certainly a repeat of what put me in the hospital last year in Huntsville. The doctor and I talked about what to do about it and I left there with what he thought would counter the problem.  I slept that night seeing my dream ride of a lifetime slipping away from me. Worse, I feared the possibility of a repeat of the pain that waylaid me so seriously last year. Greater than my tough-guy error, I also erred on my approach in telling my family. That little faux pas will forever be ensconced in the main corridor of my life’s Hall of Shame. I am such an idiot sometimes.

What the first 11 days were like.  (6 Flags, CA)

So how did I do on my goals? Miserable. We rode too fast to enjoy any solitude, and the noise of riding on the interstate was deafening. What about helping at work? Miserable. The security that hotels had set up for their internet access did not play with the security in place with my employer. What about keeping up with informing my friends of what was going on? Good, but a bit disingenuous. I majored on the good and overlooked the bad. There would be time later to reflect on the unpleasant, and maybe when I would look back at the end of the ride, I hoped the bad wasn’t so bad. What about completing the ride? I was meeting the challenge, but barely, and certainly at risk. I was honestly scared I would not finish. I refused to sightsee in Salt Lake City. My body was spent, and I wasn’t going to do anything to tax it more. My body needed rest, my mind needed rest, and my spirit needed calming.

But what of the unexpected? There are some explainable events and reputations that I had no control over or sought. The strangest was my being dubbed as an intellectual in the group. (This really speaks poorly of these guys if I’m the intellectual). Whenever a question arose like ‘What is that?’ it was me that was asked, and I gave them the right answer. I don’t have an explanation for my uncanny accuracy. Another reputation was my role as the clean-up guy.  As I rode down the road I found stuff (coats, gloves, hats, SPF30 Chap Stick) that obviously belonged to other riders, scooped it up, and asked at dinner who owned it. It always belonged to somebody. This led to a third reputation of being the guy who noticed everything. I was Mr. Detail of the group and the collector of stories. Lastly, I was also the guy that worried about everything. God was planting these seeds for His later use, and He didn’t bother asking me if I wanted to enjoy those reputations or not.

Lonely Days

Bottom Line: My ability to put a smile on my face grew more difficult each day, yet knowing what I had already gone through gave me a reasonable expectation to hope that something good would grow from this. I have never been so lonely in my life, or so aware of my limitations.

Farewell Banquette – Manchester, NH, 21 Jul 2014

Map and Pics:  Click Here for Map and Pics.



Enjoying Tourist Mode



America By Bike staff knew that once we got to the Atlantic Ocean there is no more opportunity to have us all in a group. Between cleaning activities, packing, and those leaving that afternoon with loved ones – their experience dictated that we gather on the eve to the dipping for our last dinner together. Each rider was given a chance to say something or do something special. One sang (and that Dutchman could sing). Another invited an American (me) to play “Catch the Chicken”, a very entertaining Dutch game. And yes… the chicken won. For my contribution I decided to write down many of the things I had learned since first throwing my leg over the bicycle seat in San Francisco. Now of course, some of these gems are ‘you had to be there to understand’ humor. For those items I will put an explanation in parenthesis.

55 things I learned on my way to New Hampshire

1. I had over 20 coaches helping me out, all very cleverly disguised as other cyclists.

2. Clip out before dismounting. (Cyclists’ shoes are attached to the pedals to gain maximum transfer of energy. If you don’t snap your foot out of the pedal clips when stopping your first point of contact with the ground will not be your feet. I tore up a jacket by skidding on the pavement with my shoulder.)

3. Always use hand signals when coming to a SAG stop. (SAG stops are where we refuel and replenish our water. It is also where AbB staff are watching to make sure we use hand signals. We are praised when we use them. Remedial safety instructions are repeated to us when we don’t.)

4. Once Eddie signs in at the hotel, the rest of us are on our own to deal with lightning, hail, and tornados. (Eddie is the Catholic Priest that rode with us. His prayers for good weather were very effective, but protection seemed to expire the moment he checked into the destination hotel.)

5. This is not a race, it is a challenge. Nevertheless, getting to the hotel before the luggage arrives is SWEET! (It happened to me twice!)

6. There isn’t a lot of statistical variation to Michelle’s response to the question “Can I start early?” Actually, there was no variation. The answer is NO. (Michelle was the AbB Ride Leader in charge of everything. By the way, the same variation occurs when riders ask the staff if they could open the trailer for loading or get a pump out 8 seconds before the big hand is on the nine and little hand is on the six.)

7. Be careful where you sit down. (There are many reasons for this one, but our clothes were often saturated with personal lubricants and left greasy spots where we sat.)

8. Kickstands are for rookies. By the way, bikes don’t need help falling over. That is why we are told to lay them on the ground. (Another way rookies self-identify is by blaming the closest person or thing to it if their bike falls down from being perched against a post or wall. This of course is silly, because the fault lies with the person who thought bikes can’t fall over by themselves and didn’t lay down their bike.)

9. Every spoke on your wheel is important. You are not riding on one spoke and just happen to have 23 other spare spokes along for the ride. (A broke spoke will immediately warp the wheel and cause your brakes to stop you immediately. Undesired laws of physics kick in when abrupt stops on a bicycle occur, all bad for the cyclist.)

10. Signing in will be done. The only variation in outcomes is in the level of pain suffered by the cyclists. (Refer to Rule 6. The more trouble it takes for staff to track you down to sign, the more encouragement a cyclist receives to never forget again. To remind AbB staff that you are now 74 years old and no longer interested in listening to them does lead to entertaining negotiations.)

11. Extra Large (XL) in Holland is in kilos, and not many of them. (Dutch XL sizes equate somewhere between small and medium sizes in America.)

12. It is okay to stop and take a picture. It is better to let the riders behind you know you are stopping. (Tourists are encouraged to ride alone to avoid accidents.)

13. Touching another bike's rear tire with your front tire while riding produces immediate results, both physically and verbally, and all bad. (If you don’t have the skill and reflexes required to ride in a group, stay away from the group.)

14.Don’t ride with disciplined riders if you aren’t disciplined. Wait until you are invited to join them. (Refer to rule 13. When riding fast behind somebody, if they hit a hole, you own the hole too.)

15. Priests come with the same vocabulary as mere mortals. They don’t like to be overheard and later quoted when they use specialized vocabulary. (It is nice to know they are just as prone to verbalize our thoughts when the hills never stop coming.)

16. Don’t use your brakes when going around corners. (Do it once and you will know why.)

17. Don’t stand up on your pedals when climbing in gravel. (Refer to rule 2 before you spin out.)

18. When passing Texans, say “On your left” rather than “Weeeeee!!!!!” That is how Oklahomans self-identify, and Texans don’t generally hold a high opinion of that Texan ‘want-to-be’ clan of misfit goat-ropers.)

19. Rookies self-identify themselves by the chain ring grease on their right leg. Some even mix the grease with scars and bleeding. (AbB staff are still wondering how I consistently get grease on both my right and left leg.)

20. Aerobars and me will never mix. I can’t even steer my bike well with both hands on the grips. (Aerobars are devices attached to the center of the bike to allow the rider to become more aerodynamic in riding, but also adds instability because steering is done with the elbows.)

21. Bikes need lubrication. Bike riders need even more. (See rule #7).

22. Shady roads are nice, but this is where roads tend to be in the worst shape. Beware of temporary relief from the sun. (Unlike skiing where these is ‘always a line to the lift’, some of these rough patches of roads have no way through them safely.)

23. Scenery is nice, but people like to see people in their pictures. Selfies are okay if you are the last guy to cross the state line. (I got good at these.)

24. Don’t write your blog for yourself, write it for others. Give others a good reason to return to it. Let your readers feel like they are along for a ride of discovery with you. (The obvious corollary is that you need to discover something new every day. I stole this one from a book on friendship.)

25. True gentlemen will let the ladies come in first once in a while (and not make it look too obvious. When this rule was explained to me I was told that men don’t beat women to the finish line, it is just that women are naturally slow and men are only riding the way men ride. This explanation will need some more polishing before publication.)

26. Spokes can cry. (When asked why I was told it was all about the belly fat to wheel width ratio and the tire is what the tire is. The only adjustable variable in that equation is losing personal tonnage.)

27. Breathe, and preferably through your nose when blazing down hills. (Swallowing live bugs does not contribute to retaining focus on the road.)

28. Curling up in a tuck position with your knees hugging the center bar is not the universal distress signal for having to go pee. It is for maximum stability as you are riding down a hill with less than a square inch of surface area touching pavement by which to brake and maneuver.

29. Four men under a bridge while waiting out a rain storm attracts cars to drive by. (The only safe place to take a leak is at a gas station or convenience store.)

30. Don’t get lost wearing purple. (You will have to ask me for the explanation.)

31. We really do look funny wearing tights. (Don’t walk into a redneck bar expecting to be served.)

32. Trains can sneak up on you. (And blast their horns to launch you into outer space.)

33. Riding on interstates is a lonely proposition. (They are so noisy you can’t hear yourself talk or anybody else for that matter. Hand signals is the key to survival.)

34. Bugs hurt when they hit you at 40 miles per hour. (Bees are particularly woeful. I had one fly into my helmet while in a tuck once. I surprised myself how fast I stopped and threw off my head gear.)

35. Real cyclists pedal downhill. (Tourists consider downhill stretches as opportunities to take pictures and to smell the roses.)

36. Don’t ride over debris (especially blown tires) and cut grass. (Mad hornets that were peacefully nesting in the ground are just waiting to show you their anger over the mower that just turned their world upside down.)

37. Don’t let yourself get sunburnt on the back of your knees. (Knees are important to riders.)

38. Your heart rate will tell you more about your percent grade of climb than your eyes.(In the mountains it is easy to lose one’s sense of horizon and what is level.)

39. Stop before you redline. (Recovery from hitting maximum heart rate is five times longer than recovery from hitting 90% maximum, and every minute you rest you are burning sunshine.)

40. Learn to trust your reflexes. (Screaming downhill is more a lower brain (reflex) activity than upper brain (cognitive) activity. If you start to think about it, you already own it. Things happen too fast on a bike to think about evaluating alternatives on the best way down the mountain.)

41. Learn how others overcame their fears by listening.

42. Be teachable.

43. Your mind will quit before your body does.

44. Al Emma is only 39 years old. He looks 74 because of all the miles he has covered. (Al really is 74 and has ran marathons in all 50 states and Canadian provinces, and also biked 100 mile plus centuries in all states and provinces too.)

45. Never pass up a chance to thank a cop, fireman, or trucker. (They deserve our thanks.)

46. Don’t ask the mechanic to clean your bike’s drive train. (Know the staff’s pet peeves and avoid them.)

47. It helps if you pedal. (There are logical reasons why I don’t keep up with the pack.)

48. Doing laundry resembles a military maneuver. (Bill, my roommate, and I had this down to a science.)

49. When in doubt, don’t go down that hill. (If you go the wrong way, you have to ride back up to return to the right road.)

50. The finish line is the finish line. (Getting distracted before arrival is just like stopping to take pictures along the way.)

51. A clean bike is a happy bike, but hates power washing. (If you want a quick expensive trip to the bike shop then just jet spray the bearing on your wheels. Bikes love TLC. Mechanics like to work on bikes, not dirt covered bikes.)

52. Bikes do not ride themselves. (You really do have to pedal them.)

53. You can do ballet on a bike. (Watching experienced riders is pure poetry in motion.)

54. There is a big difference between interrogation and interviewing. (If you want people to talk to you, ask them about their passions.)

55. Know why you are on the saddle. (And don’t forget it.)

Day 52 – Manchester, NH to Wallis Sands State Park, Portsmouth, NH and Kittery Maine, 22 Jul 2014

Map and Pics:  Click Here for Map and Pics.

Miles 3781 to 3845, 64 miles, 2500 feet of climb, max speed 36 mph, avg speed 16 mph, first 55 miles avg 22 mph.



Celebration after tire dipping - Atlantic!

When we came around the corner and saw the Atlantic Ocean for the first time we all let out a "preema” yell. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was there; the goal was at hand; the challenge had been answered. The ride to the shore was the experience of my life, and we gathered at the Rye High School after our mad dash to the sea as the place to regroup. At 11:30 the police provided us an escort as we rode as a group down to Wallis Sands State Park. It was so beautiful but there was no chance for pictures – nor did I want to ruin the magic of the moment. Our Dutch contingent, the “Jelly Bellies” led the parade, and when we arrived at the beach the announcement came over the speaker our accomplishment. The bathers on the beach cheered and congratulations. The dipping of the front tire in the ocean was not just joyful, but also spiritual in tenner. The big “Wow”

I rode with the elites today. To put it bluntly, tourist mode was over, and the strong riders were told by staff to “Get me to the church on time.” Picture taking was specifically prohibited, and nothing less than a flat tire or broke spoke would justify stopping. Everybody knew I had gained the strength enough to do it, but also knew my will was weak. I like to smell the flowers and talk to folks. The pace was breathtaking and not since day two had I rode with the pack. It was quite fun, and I was allowed to breakaway charging the hills, actually four in a row. The adrenaline carried me over each of them. One particular moment in the ride I will forever retain, one of the stronger riders decided to brake away from the pack (which is common) on a steeper downhill and Frans challenged me to “chase down that rabbit” followed by cheers of encouragement from the other riders. I couldn’t say no and it was off to the races, going into a tuck at speeds in the mid to high 30’s. Without doubt Frans is the undisputed ride leader of the tour and later told me how proud he was of me for the conditioning I had gained since leaving the Pacific. His gift is encouragement. I arrived with the lead pack of five riders an hour before schedule. This was the highlight of my whole trip. I was invited to join the elites, and by grace and the knowledge of no tomorrow, I met their standards.



Welcome to Maine - State #14

The ride into Maine followed the tire dipping event. About five of us rode across the high bridge into Kittering for the photo-op (I was allowed to take pictures again) and then it was on to the hotel. We had to scurry to get all our tasks completed. Those who ordered boxes for bikes had to get them ready for shipment. My task was easier because I could ship mine without rush. After stripping down the bike I caught a ride over to a bike shop to have it packed up and shipped FedEx back to Madison Cycles. As an understatement, the ride whoppz the snotz out of that bike and I need my bike shop professionals to bring it back to life.

Claire and Steve - Portsmouth NH

The gem of the day was without doubt everybody’s rider friend Steve. After cleaning and packing up, he took Claire and I to downtown Portsmouth for a walk around town, ice cream and shopping. He asked Claire for reassurance that he had picked out something very nice for his wife. When we came back to the hotel the ‘big chill’ was on: one rider purchased some really top drawer wine. When everybody was there and feeling fine, we then went over to eat at the restaurant across the street from the hotel. After dinner I could not have been more physically spent, and the hot tub was calling my name, and I wasn’t the only one who felt the same way. Around 10PM fatigue forced us to our rooms and I was asleep before I arranged the pillows on the bed.

Bottom Line: WE DID IT! WE DID IT! Wow.

Day 51 – Brattleboro, VT to Manchester, NH crossing White Mountains on NH 9, 21 Jul 2014

Map and Pics:  Click Here for Map and Pics.

Miles 3697 to 3781, 84 miles, 6000 feet of climb, max speed 47 mph, avg speed 13 mph, many 8%-9% climbs of 1-2 miles each. Distance was actually 80 miles, climb was reduced to 4583 feet due to route change.

As soon as we crossed the Connecticut River into New Hampshire the fog became so thick we couldn’t see how high or steep the mountains really were. Worse, the fog made it really tough to see and be seen. I did not realize how important such trivia was in setting my short range goals, something that really helps me up the grades. As I was complaining to myself I rode past a cemetery covered up with fog – such a picture. I stopped my whining. My average speed was diminished today for two reasons: the state roads in western NH were the worst of any state, and then the real reason, I was dog tired from yesterday. That is why they call it a challenge. I was in dead last again today, but sure had fun doing it.

Fog added to the mystery of the hallowed ground

Coming into the town of Antrim, NH, I was honked at by a car closing quickly behind me on roads that I thought to be unsafe at any speed for car, bike, or walking. Little did I know that I would catch up to a daughter and her widowed mother shortly thereafter parked in front of their home. Their names were Delores and daughter Dana, and they each had fascinating stories. In the conversation I discovered Delores was generally disappointed at the condition of the road and the speeds people drove down it, citing that she had recently lost three cats to speeders. Delores’ late husband was a poet and artist, and she shared with me her dream that the building she owned in that town (named after a county in Ireland) had the potential to become a studio and gallery for her late husband’s work. What a neat idea. Dana was going to help her mother in the pursuit of that dream. Awesome. What really nice folks.

Tonight’s farewell banquette was very moving. Many people recalled and shared their most memorable experiences with the group. Paul got the award for the rider that best epitomized the spirit of the ride. That was the easiest decision of the whole trip. There were a lot of laughs, some moist eyes, and many kind words. This was also a time where many thanked the staff for their hard work. For my part I gave a humorous list of things I have learned on the trip. I promised I would post it as a later blog entry.



The gems of the day were a pair of high school girls that were sitting at the feet of the town meeting hall in Greenfield, NH. I was very tired and I approached them and asked if I could join them for lunch. As we were sitting on the village green (their lunch was each a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream and a Monster drink) we had a casual conversation that quickly excluded me. They had too many things to brag about to themselves about themselves. It was a very interesting dialog that took on the characteristics of a Facebook chat session rather than a conversation. Once the ice cream was gone they went on their way. Why were they gems? Because just like so many other days on this adventure my boundaries of understanding people and their passions was pushed out again.

Bottom Line: Tough day, and not just physically. Great banquette tonight. Wow.

Day 50 – Latham NY to Brattleboro, VT crossing Green Mountains on VT 9, 20 Jul 2014

Map and Pics:  Click Here for Map and Pics.

Miles 3618 to 3697, 79 miles, 5050 feet of climb, max speed 44 mph, avg speed 13 mph, four major extended climbs.



The white Green Mountains



Steve was way out in front, already crossing the Hudson River, when Claire finally caught up to him. After taking her picture, she was off to the races. She is great at flats and down hills, but the Flying Dutchmen can catch her on hills. She did not want that to happen! Today Claire was first to the hotel, Bill my roommate was second, and Frans was third. Claire mentioned to Frans his third place finish, maybe even several times. There were three different Green Mountain descents today where most riders were going in the 40’s. Our fastest rider hit the bottom of the mountains at 53 mph each time. I rode at vehicle traffic pace for over eight miles on the last descent; five cars in front, five cars behind. We were squished pretty tight, but there was nothing I could do about that.

Hogback Harley Heaven

At the top of Hogback mountain I only had to ask one question to the group of Harley Riders parked at the overlook: “May I take a picture of your sweet machines?” Those hog-masters were doing the same trip as us, but on their muffler modified polished steeds. What a great bunch of guys and their passion for their motorcycles came out with very little coaxing. The view from up there (overlooking the Connecticut River Valley) was quite breathtaking. There are ski lifts up there too, but not in use today. Except for a slight headwind the weather was perfect.

There are some things that are helped by ‘committee decisions’ such as making sure we are following the clue sheet. Changing a tire is not one of them. For that to be successful, you need a head surgeon and all others supporting physicians whose entire role is to have the tweezers, pump, extra tubes, and tire wrenches ready for the doctor in charge. Similar case is with carrying bags out to trailer in the morning – nobody is helped by helping another; but unloading the trailer in the evening is where many hands make light work out of a big project. Now that we only have two days left it is such a shame that we do all these tasks so well.

Hemmings

The gem of the day belongs to museum curator at Hemming’s Motor News Store in Bennington. Norm and I really enjoyed looking at the high end old cars, like a 1910 Buick. The whole place was a gem. Norm even broke his own rule about T-Shirts (he has hundreds of them already from his rides) and got one from the store. He looks great in it, wearing it tonight after dinner. I am going to wear my new Alzheimer’s jersey on tomorrow's ride.

Bottom Line: We all did well today. Tomorrow will be tougher.

Day 49 – Little Falls, NY to Latham NY via NY Route 5 and Erie Canal towpath, 19 Jul 2014

Map and Pics:  Click Here for Map and Pics.

Miles 3541 to 3618, 77 miles, 2100 feet of climb, max speed 33 mph, avg speed 14 mph, slight headwind. More gorgeous riding weather.



Boats, Rivers, and Trains along the Erie Canal



What more could a 59 year old little boy want? Trains! Canals! Old Forts! Bridges! Bikes! Rivers! Historical Sites! Today was an easy ride. Better said, today was the calm before the storm. Tomorrow and the following day we take on the Green Mountains and then the White Mountains. Today was spent switching between banks of the Mohawk River doing our best to avoid high traffic corridors. As we go east we are moving into a much more industrialized area (like going around the GE Research Facilities). One thing for sure is that rural roads are in much better shape than the urban ones.

Rail to Trail

The Schenectady section of the Erie Canal Tow Path is paved and suitable for road bikes like ours. West of here the towpath is crushed rock, mud, or sand. Such surfaces require fatter tires common to mountain bikes, and would quickly ruin our bikes. On the towpath were hundreds of riders, walkers, joggers, and birders. The result is that our speeds in those sections were cut down to less than 10 mph. That is okay with me. It gives me much more time to talk to people – and I did! There were over 140 bikers in the organized eight day ride of the Erie Canal Tow Path from Buffalo to Albany sharing the path with us this afternoon. They had just as many great stories and thousands of bug bites. Currently most of the canal is swampy stagnant water and a major provider of the state’s mosquito population.



T-Shirt Swap



Tonight was the riders’ T-Shirt swap. It was played like ‘Dirty Santa’. Unlike many other times, I got exactly what I wanted – an Alzheimer jersey that Dan brought. My T-shirts could not have gone to better folks, the two that helped me the most on this challenge. Frans picked up my Chief Ladiga Rail to Trail shirt. The Indian logo on it will certainly be a novelty in Holland. My other T-Shirt went to Claire. Claire is our strong lady rider who provided me with Aleve pain pills in Kansas and Missouri. I was ready to pull myself out of the ride due to my worn out left knee back then. It was really bad, but between good coaching on how to ‘spin’ and good medicines I made it. Ask me again about my knee next Tuesday after the Green and White Mountains. There is no ‘coasting down to the shoreline’ on this trip. The cross country challenge ends with two of its biggest trials.

The gem of the day belongs to the State Trooper I met along NY Route 5. All of us bikers appreciate the work they do to keep us and others safe. I stopped to told him so.

Bottom Line: We are so close nothing can stop us now. Ask me again tomorrow though. We are looking at over 5000 feet of climbing tomorrow.

Day 48 – Liverpool, NY to Little Falls, NY via NY Route 5 and roads adjacent the Erie Canal, 18 Jul 2014

Map and Pics:  Click Here for Map and Pics.

Miles 3462 to 3541, 79 miles, 1600 feet of climb, max speed 30 mph, avg speed 13 mph, wind not a factor, getting over my cold, typical latent chest pains. Gorgeous weather.

Trying to fix the bike computer

This was a perfect ride day once the first ten minutes was over. Steve and I suffered ‘hotel flats’ overnight from glass picked up in Liverpool; then Steve’s bike computer broke; then we lost the route sheet… Well anyway, because of the help we received from our SAG support, Mark, Gene, and Jane are the gems of the day. One more comment about Liverpool. This weekend was the Syracuse Nationals car show and there were hundreds of perfectly detailed hot rods and vintage cars in town. What a treat! I talked to one couple from Canada this morning at breakfast and the wife said privately to me that this was an expensive hobby but is something she and her husband do together, and to her that is priceless.

Tom's not so toy train

Tom loves working with wood and metal, and the train and furniture he had out in his rummage sale today caught my eye. It wasn’t really a rummage sale; it was his front yard show room. He is asking $1800 on eBay for the train, and his hand made furniture isn’t at rummage sale prices either. This is his after work relaxation project, and he told me how the next train is already ‘on track’ to have a Ford starter in the engine so an engineer can actual drive it in parades. The key to a good hobby is enjoying it, and Tom certainly enjoys his. His wife enjoys a garage with maneuver space in it and that is why his work, once finished, is put on eBay.

Can you see it?

One of the most common question heard around the tables each evening starts with the words: “Did you see the…” The magic moment for me tonight was after dinner. As we were ‘chilling out’ another rider showed me their pictures from today all the way back to Missouri. The phrase ‘precious memories’ just doesn’t express the magic well enough. More memories were made today, and today I liked barns. I didn’t plan it that way. It just happened. There was the one with a red heart painted on the side; which really put a human touch onto the old wood. The barn I liked the best nobody else saw what I saw in it until I pointed it out. Can you guess why I thought it was so intriguing?

Bottom Line: One of the transforming aspects of this trip is noticing things I never noticed before. Not just in pictures but in the people too. Wow.

Day 47 – Canandaigua, NY to Liverpool, NY, via NY Route 5 and the Erie Canal, 17 Jul 2014

Map and Pics:  Click Here for Map and Pics.

Miles 3393 to 3462, 69 miles, 2150 feet of climb, max speed 33 mph, avg speed 13 mph, wind not a factor, twice rained on, obtained a head cold from yesterday’s soaking.

Kate Watkins and Me

I had chills and sweats all morning and was hoping to lay low today. I even went west this morning to take a picture of the lake with the intent of putting me ten minutes behind all the others. The solitary life I planned lasted almost thirty minutes, and the Good Lord knew I needed people today. He sure did provide another boatload of them! Here is the gem of the day: Kate Watkins, a fellow employee from Huntsville, AL who happened to be in town tonight and came by for Route-Rap and drinks before dinner. Before all the rumors start, let me explain that I really did pick a five pound zucchini for her from Mary Thompson's garden. (Mary is the happiest farmer in New York.) None of the other stories are mostly untrue kind of almost. Kate really enjoyed twisting me in a knot tonight at the dinner table. What good fun was had by all, and one of the guys took more than a passing interest in her. She is by far the gem of the day! Wow. She is such a sweetheart.

By some fluke I ended up in front of most of the riders today after the SAG stop. When I approached Throopsville, NY on the old Middle Turnpike (the road that predates the state) I was exhausted and tired of down the hill, up the hill, repeat, repeat, repeat. My muscles hurt and the bumps on the road made my headache stay in full force. On top of the hill in the center of town was Kevin sitting on his porch with his beer, cigarettes, a police scanner radio, and an empty chair. I told him I was dog-tired and asked if I could ‘sit a spell’ with him, and he cautiously agreed. An hour later we were still both there having a great time, and many of the riders also stopped in and chatted. Kevin, a retired steel worker (disabled?) had only left the county once that he could recall to see a Yankee’s game, and vowed never to do that again. Steven, our new rider came by also, and a real New York City dweller, and provided great conversation. The somewhat bitter Kevin (when I arrived) was a bubbly Kevin when we left. He couldn’t believe how friendly all the riders were with him and how all his local buddies that drove by his place noticed his yard was hopping with visitors. The Jelly Bellies (our Dutch riders) got a kick out of it too. They were always so far ahead of the pack that they never witnessed Dave in his infamous ‘STOP and CHAT’ style of riding across the country. They showed me the pictures they took of me in the rocking chair next to Kevin at dinner tonight, saying “It’s true, it’s true”. This episode reminded me of our Nevada friend named Clay.

Heading west across the USA

Grandpa Jerry told his grandson Nathan that if I couldn’t find a job this summer, he had a job for him… as a mule. Jerry has ridden across the US three times self-contained (meaning he toted everything he needed on his bike from tents to food) but was getting too old for it now. He hired his grandson to come along and Nathan does all the toting on his bike while Jerry rides his recumbent. They were doing the Northern Tier with the goal to be in Portland, Oregon to fly Nathan back in time for school. They chose to do the Erie Canal tow path to cross NY rather than the shorter and more difficult route through the Adirondacks. They have already made good progress and ahead of schedule.

Bottom Line: It is not good for man to live alone. Even if he tries, God won’t let him. I’m living proof.

Day 46 – Hamburg, NY to Canandaigua, NY, via US20, 16 Jul 2014

Map and Pics:  Click Here for Map and Pics.

Miles 3298 to 3393, 95 miles, 3850 feet of manageable climbs, max speed 39 mph, avg speed 15 mph, strong crosswind over left shoulder.

I am beginning to feel like a child’s lost puppy. I had 95 miles to ride today and I really didn’t plan to talk to people today. I can really tell my body is turning to rubber and hoping for a nap is the most delicious thought to the day. That was not to be. By the way, my roommate Bill turned a very fit 67 today!



Clouds over NY today



My good friend Jim often says that talking about fishing is always a good use of time, and he was proved right again today. Steve’s car was broken down on the side of the road when he flagged me over for help. He forgot his cell phone and needed to call his boss at the stone crushing quarry to bring him some gas. Nobody picked up the call from my cell phone so he left a message, and hung up frustrated. We started to talk and when I said I was riding to the Finger Lakes area he said he was going fishing there in three weeks. Fishing became the topic and I asked and he answered for ten minutes. My cell went off and I gave him the phone to hear his boss ask “Who are you and why are you calling me?” He was surprised it was Steve, and after a short conversation help for Steve was on the way. Fishing saved the day, and we didn’t even have to buy bait.



We like to warn people when we are passing them with saying a “Good Morning” or “I’m on your left,” Today, when about to pass a lady walking into town I sent out a “Good Morning” that wasn’t at first heard. The second greeting caused her to look back towards me and when she turned she almost lost her balance stepping off the pavement. I stopped immediately and told her it was not my intention to put her into the gravel. I got off my bike and started walking next to her, talking about who we were, where we were going, and where we are from. She was friendly and a bit shocked I delayed my ride. Her name is Debbie and like me, our kids are out of the house. Okay… I can no longer say I rode every inch of the trip across America, but that little stroll down the lane with Debbie was worth surrendering those bragging rights. Bikers are not out to put her or any other pedestrian in the ditch.

The train caught my eye, but what was on the other side of the street caught my attention. It was a postcard quality beautiful yard, flowers, laundry on the line, and wood stacked in a pile. I walked up the driveway and took a picture. Behind me I heard a car on the gravel and thought to myself this might not end well. It was the city sheriff, and it was his yard. When he approached I introduced myself and explained, “Sir, the train across the street got me to stop, but when I saw this yard, I just had to take a picture. Across the street is decoration, over here is how I want to remember New York.” He looked at me in disbelief at first, and then started to wonder about my claim. He then said, “Son, you have just made my day.” His name is Lynn, and he had just come back from working out at the gym. He told me how it pleased his wife to have a yard like theirs.

Bloomfields Green Dot Ladies Club

At Shark’s Ice Cream Parlor I met Bill and his family. He is up from NC visiting his sister. They were all very interested in my bike trip. We talked other things too, and he gave me a wonderful handmade gift to take along with me. While we were leaving, four well dress ladies entered the shoppe and something immediately caught my eye – each had a round green sticker on their outfits. I interrupted their looking at flavors and asked, “Ladies, I just got to know. Are you all members of the ‘Green Dot Ladies Club’?” They busted out in laughter, as well as the rest of us there in the store as the ladies each quickly removed their ‘rummage sale’ stickers from the clothes. No, the dot sticker was given them as proof of admission to a garden show they had just been too. They got their ice cream and allowed me to take their picture. They are now forever branded as the “Bloomfield Green Dot Ladies Club”.

There were others today, like Matt who explained the mystery of the numbers on the Corn Field signs. He also said DeKalb is pronounced with the “L” (unlike in MO) because his regional manager says it is that way. No further explanation needed. The gem of the day belongs to my wife and daughter. The rain soaked me this morning and my feet were very cold and wet. Jane, from AbB, suggested I dig through my luggage in the van in hopes to find dry socks. In the bottom of the bag were three pair my family brought me when they visited me in Indianapolis. Having warm dry socks on a cold wet day is priceless.

Bottom Line: What does somebody supposed to think when so many things happen to them in one day? I’m just a guy on a bike. Do I really look like a lost puppy that needs to be scooped up and talked to?

Day 45 – Erie, PA to Hamburg, NY, via Great Lakes Seaway bike trail and US20, 15 Jul 2014

Map and Pics:  Click Here for Map and Pics.

Miles 3217 to 3298, 81 miles (+3 bonus miles at the end when I accidently rode past the hotel), 1450 feet of climb (really 2152 ft), max speed 35 mph, avg speed 16 mph, great tail wind.

There is an idiom that says where evil abounds, good abounds even more. Last night within a block of our downtown hotel there was a bank robbery (ATM) and three shootings. Sirens and police lights all night long, but the officers explained as they were cleaning up the last mess that Monday nights are always slow. The gem of the day was met when I was playing the piano in the hotel lobby all by myself last night. The night clerk for the hotel came over and asked if he could sing – and the 6-5 giant of man that looked like a defensive lineman sang Amazing Grace like it had never been sung before. There was a lot of soul in that soul. We had a great time of fellowship together.

We crossed into New York later this morning. The crystal clear creeks of PA now turned muddy again, the vineyards seemed to double in size, and the roads remarkably improved. That is when trouble hit. Shortly after the only SAG I went into town to look for a birthday card. While in town I must have picked up glass, staples, and other tire popping jewels in my tire. Five miles down the road the rear tire and tube blew and I was forced to call for help.



You can see the fish in these PA creeks

 The location was perfect for waiting for my rescue: a concrete driveway, grassy yard, and a great view of Lake Erie on a beautiful day. I took the wheel off the bike and started to examine the tire, picking out the shards. A man came out of the house, walked down his long driveway, and asked what I was doing and then demanded that I not sit in his grass. I told him I had a flat tire and that I was repairing it by first picking the culprits out of my tire. He was offended once again because I was leaving the micro-wires in his yard. He went and got his mail as I moved my bike as close as safety would allow to the road. I said, “Excuse me sir, but are we in New York?” He said yes, and I replied, “Thank you, I was warned this might happen to me in this state.” He didn’t understand my meaning, but he did lighten up a bit. He left in a huff saying, “If you need anything, just ask” and went back in his house. It may be genetic, but New Yorkers sometimes come off a bit combative before they warm up to you. I hope I didn’t permanently crumple the grass in his front yard.



A Real Wishing Well

Late in the ride I saw something caught my eye that really picked up my spirit. We have seen hundreds for fake Wishing Well yard ornaments, but today I saw a real one. After returning to the ride I wondered what I should wish for. Not even a mile later down the road I stopped for an elderly woman frustrated by traffic as she tried to cross the highway to get her mail. We chatted for a while and eventually she told me she was on her way to the oncologist. She seemed in fine spirits for her current lot in life. I wished that when something like that eventually happens to me I can be as positive about it as she was.

Bottom Line: My lot in life is pretty good. No… it is fantastic. I am so blessed. I will be home in one week.