Memorable Stories

I regret how little I had internet access and got a chance to update my blog during my trip. Below are a few highlights and excitement from West Texas onwards.


Two Texas Limos in Amarillo - Here was our first day off since New Orleans. We were so excited relax and live it up in the hoppin' town of Amarillo. To my delight (and surprise), I found a restaurant "the Big Texan" which promised to pick a group of us up in free-of-charge limos for their grand $8.95 breakfast buffet. Unfortunately, my dreams of my day off were shattered since as it turned out, I had to do laundry during the morning hours and was therefore unable to go over to the Big Texan. Since the original breakfast plan fell apart yet was never fully confirmed, I felt odd calling Tyson, my cowboy worker friend, to let him know that we went from being a maybe to a definite no. Assuming that maybe meant yes, he sent not one (as discussed) but two (a little excessive) limos to the downtown YMCA where we were staying. I luckily missed the fiasco--two confused drivers in full Texas cowboy gear wandering around the Y looking for some girl named Anna and a bunch of her friends-- since I was out doing laundry. Opps.

Cake in the Shoe - We got really hungry on the road. (I just realized that half of these stories are going to be about food which is quite appropriate.) One day right after the ride, we had two birthday cakes sitting around which we naturally start chowing down on without silverwear but with our unwashed, grease-covered hands. (Kinda gross, I know. Bike chain lube tastes horrible, fyi.) Nonetheless, we were still scrounging around for crumbs when the cake was gone. One of my leaders found a large chunk in someone's shoe -- intending to throw it away as a responsible and sane individual would, but he found himself in the midst of a conversation and out of instinct tossed the cake remnant into his mouth momentarily forgetting where it had come from.

Santa Fe Opera - Somehow the southern route turned out to be a tour of my mother's side of the family. I got a chance to see cousin Amy in New Orleans, the grandparents in their new home in Dallas, and then them again with Jill and Rex in Santa Fe. Here we enjoyed an evening at a summer production of La Boheme which was INCREDIBLE. It was my first opera and I was able to follow along the plot thanks to a pre-performance educational presentation in addition to my knowledge of Rent, the broadway play which took a lot of elements from the original opera. After that, they feed me a lot of really good food, allowed me to rest (on a couch -- a definite step up from gym floors), and we enjoyed a brief weekend wandering about Santa Fe.

Pie-Eating Romeo - Finding a deli for lunch in Arizona was a delightful break after the barren days of New Mexico and that desolate week to come in Nevada. Naturally, a typical sandwich was not enough for us hungry bike riders. So, as my friend Alf goes to order dessert, I whimsically (and mistakenly) joked that he couldn't eat the entire pie. Bets were wagered. I would pay for the pie if he could not finish OR finished then couldn't make it through the rest of the ride without booting. Low and behold, he ate the pie (which was not so tasty) and finished the ride. Ultimately, I would call the deal equal: I was out $15 for an overpriced pie, that I didn't eat, and Alf had to endure eating a sub-par pie and then riding the remain 35 miles with it in his stomach. (I am not at liberty to explain the second half of this nickname.)

The Plague - Nevada was difficult for its notorious headwinds (this was the only state where I was literally blown off the road), huge hills, and nothingness. But what we did not expect was the grand sickness (either food poisoning or a fast-hitting virus) that struck the vast majority of my team. At its worst, only eight of twenty-seven finished the ride. Six days later, we still had sick-ies in the van. When California finally came many long days later, this horrid disease finally subsided.

Life Jacket Bootie - With California came civilization as well as an extreme amount of tourists driving cars with motor boats attached and life jackets piled (unsecured) inside. One flew out onto the road and knowing that the owner would have little or no luck trying to find it after discovering it was missing and being against litter, my friend Rachel and I decided to pick it up and wear it for the remaining 25 miles of the day. Life jackets, unlike our bike and build jerseys, retain our body heat and sweat with two thick layers of plastic and tons of form making it not ideal of exercise in the afternoon. In order to not collapse of heat exhaustion, we switched back and forth. So, what do you do with a life jacket? We gave it as a birthday present to a tripmate who was notorious for picking up random stuff along the road.

Almost There!

Just a quick note while I have internet access before I take off for my penultimate day of biking...

We made it to California via the beautiful Lake Tahoe last Thursday and have since been trucking through the many mountain ranges and well-appreciated flat land. I am writing from a Presbyterian church in Napa Valley and uh-oh, I have just been called to a morning route meeting before we get on the road.

Moral of the story: I am alive and well and will try to update, communicate, and reflect more once I get back to what a friend calls "civilian" life.

Delilah's Theory & the Cookies Curse

When you are biking cross country, every day seems to be a challenge. And according to a friend on the trip, Delilah, it is almost as if we are secret agents battling against all kinds of currents in attempt to make it cross country. Some are more obvious -- like the huge hills and headwinds. But others, like the cookies curse, are much more subtle. When I was completing my third set of double centuries in Arizona, the weather and terrain were both gorgeous. Really we had nothing to complain about but we all were slightly sick. It was not until mile 75 on the second day when a group of us, all feeling the same way, finally figured out that gobbling down at least ten cookies at each rest spot was the real challenge of the day. Since what hungry cyclist can resist the goodness of mint kiddo's in replace for their 200th PB&J? Luckily, we no longer have so many cookies and I have succumb to supplement my now forced sandwich with a carrot or two.

Despite these obstacles, my trip has less than two weeks left. And with my legs which someone called tree trunks earlier today and a lot of excitement for San Fransisco, I think I can bike the loneliest highway in Nevada, complete a few last centuries, and make it to the Pacific Ocean!