C'est la Vie

Durango, Colo. -- I have now been home for 24 hours, and during that time, I have gone for my first bike ride since the trip, done my grocery shopping (I had no idea how much more expensive food became!), and unpacked.  It's remarkable that it feels as though I never left.  The weather forecasters are predicting two to four inches of snow today.  Coming from 90 degree heat, with incredible humidity, this has been a shock to my system.  I wore long underwear yesterday, and a hat!

At any rate, the final day began with a gorgeous sunrise.  The sun looked as though it were in flames, lighting the sky in orange as we rode through country fields.  The first ten miles had many turns, and as it was the last day, I kept thinking about what has happened over the trip, and found that I had gone farther than expected without seeing my turn.  I saw several man standing at the driveway of a farm and asked them if they knew the road I was looking for.  They pointed me towards the highway, and though I was skeptical, I trusted their opinions.  This despite the fact that they could hardly agree if the road was right.  As you can probably imagine, they were wrong.  So I got a few bonus miles on my last day, and became my own navigator.  For the first time, I was the last person riding.

Once we rode 40 miles, we had to stop at a fire station and wait for a police car to escort us into St. Augustine.  We waited, they came, and then we set off.  Every time I thought we would have to stop for a red light, the cop turned on his siren and stopped traffic.  Some felt this was a bit over the top, and I think it was, but I admit it was also fun knowing that, for once, the cars had to wait for us instead of the other way around.

Once at the beach, we dipped our tires into the water and then, one by one, we all jumped in and played in the surf.  The Atlantic felt amazing after riding in the heat, and though I end up with sand down my shorts, I would have stayed there much longer if I could have.  We had a picnic, then rode a few miles to our hotel.  When I checked in, I found I had a surprise waiting for me.  Paul had gotten me two dozen white and dark chocolate cover strawberries -- delicious, and beautiful!  My roommate had bought some wine, so we shared our treats.  We showered, had a final dinner, and went to bed.  The next morning I finished packing and set off for the airport.  A billion hours later, I found myself back in Durango.

So this is it.  The trip has ended.  It's been a delightful experience, and I recommend it to anyone who loves bikes.  This will also be my final post, so thanks to all who have been reading and supporting me along the way.  And of course, thanks to all the people who made this trip possible -- the guides, my peers, and everyone else.

Hot to Trot

High Springs, Fla. -- If the end were near before, it is now upon us.  Starting tonight, I can count down from seventy-two hours, the time that will pass before I am back in Durango.  It's as unbelievable to me that my fellow riders and I have crossed the country as it is that this trip will end.  I've made excellent friends and learned a lot.  About myself, about life, about growing older.  It's really been a gift that I can be here.

Today was my last full day of riding.  I rode about 77 miles, mostly into a headwind.  It started out cloudy and then became almost unbearably hot and humid when the sky cleared and the sun bore down on us.  We stopped at a state park for one of the SAG stops, which was nice, except that the remaining 12 miles were brutal.  It was about 1 p.m., the height of the heat, and the road was half chip-sealed and we rode directly into the wind.  Those combined factors meant that it was slower going than I prefer -- or rather, that I didn't feel that the effort I put in was accurately rewarded with a speedy output.

I can't remember whether I mentioned that I broke a spoke on the 90 mile ride we did.  But if I didn't mention it then, let me do so now.  I broke a spoke on the last 90 mile ride.  I had just had my wheel trued, and felt confident that I'd be all set for the remainder of the trip.  Yeah.  Cocky confidence is never rewarded well.  So 32 miles in, I heard a ping.  I stopped, checked the spokes, and found the broken one on my rear tire.  But on our last rest day, Carol and Linda brought my wheel in to a bike shop in Tallahassee.  They returned in to me fixed, and thus, I rode today.  (Carol lent me her bike for the one ride in between, and let me say, it was a beautiful ride, full carbon fiber.)

My roommate, Tex, is going to sleep as I write this, and I suppose I will eventually do the same.  I have mixed emotions, where I'm thrilled to be going home and quite sad to have to stop being around people who I like and bikes all day, every day.  Well, I guess that's life.  So, when Thursday rolls around, it'll be another chance to practice saying goodbye.  Until then, it's a chance to live in the moment with the wonderful folks I've met.

P.S.  I had the delightful experience of meeting Marilyn, who owns the True Value hardware store here, this afternoon.  I had just come in, and because I was the first rider to the hotel, I was unloading the luggage from the trailer.  I saw her and she had a huge, beautiful bouquet of flowers in her hand.  Somebody's getting some love, I thought to myself.  Then she walked to me, put her arm around me, gave me a hug, and told me that she lives here, and has been following our blogs.  She's enjoyed cheering us on, and wanted to bring us the flowers.  Which she did.  And they were lovely.  So if you're reading, thank you, Marilyn!

Undeniably on the East Coast

Pensacola, Fla. -- As I mentioned in the heading, I am undeniably -- undisputedly -- on the East Coast.  Since I last wrote, I journeyed through the deep South and crossed Louisiana and Mississippi, including *the* Mississippi on a ferry.  I spent two nights on Dauphin Island in Alabama and then took a ferry across Mobile Bay, at which time I saw dolphins dancing through the water.  I saw them several times, and each time, it was great.  As a kid, we went whale watching but I don't know if I ever have seen dolphins in the wild.  We also saw Pelicans.

The most disappointing aspect of Dauphin Island (which was truly beautiful) was the fact that the entire sea horizon is dotted with off-shore drilling rigs.  Sure, I knew we drilled in the Gulf but I always imagined the rigs were far off, never seen from shore.  But no.  They are close.  And ugly.  To me, the sea has the same untouched quality that wilderness areas have, but seeing the rigs, permanently cemented into what should be a fluid landscape, showed me how we have succeeded in establishing developments everywhere.

We had a beautiful ride along the coastline into Florida, catching glimpses of water between houses and trees, and then occasionally riding along white sugared-sand coastlines.  Again, there's been a tremendous shift in the culture.  Where Louisiana felt somewhat backwoods, and where we were chased each day by multiple dogs, we are now in Florida, where I can already see the South Beach effect in place.  I had lunch at a natural foods co-op (it was fabulous!), and saw women my age dressed in spiked high-heels and silk blouses and tailored pants.  While I can see that they are stylish, it's certainly not my style.  Of course, who knows what look I'll adopt this fall when I'm teaching composition.  It has occurred to me that my wardrobe (that of a backpacking guide's) is entirely unsuitable for the classroom. Looks like I may have to go shopping somewhere down the line.  Anyone want to nominate me for one of those makeover shows?

Moving backwards through time-- I have little to say about Mississippi.  We spent only a handful of nights there.  It seemed more impoverished than Louisiana, less dogs.  Louisiana had places that I found stunning, among them St. Francisville, where the oak trees were draped in Spanish moss and where the town felt exactly like every novel I've ever read that was placed in the deep South.  We stayed at a plantation, the Butler Greenwood, for two enjoyable nights and I had a house to myself (a one-room house, just like my one at home) with three huge stain-glass windows.  They had a peacock there, named Humphrey, who wandered about, goosing folks with his cackle.

It's really amazing to me that this journey, which I started almost seven weeks ago, will come to a close in ten nights or eleven days.  How amazing -- and weird -- to think that I've seen so much of this country.  And while I haven't biked every mile, as have some of my peers, how amazing that a person can cross this country purely with the strength of their own legs.

Whatcha Gonna Do in Navasota?

Navasota, Tex. -- We have a layover day here in this quaint, quiet town, and it appears that the list of activities to do will include ... relaxing.  I did see they have a diner called The Filling Station that serves breakfast all day, so I might wander down ... around lunchtime.  The hotel is clean, near a plethora of chain restaurants at which we can eat tomorrow, for those of us who choose not to wander.


 I had an excellent 70-mile ride today through the rolling green country of what I believe is now eastern Texas.  Only three days left!  It reminds me a lot of the East Coast, particularly Kentucky.  

There are many white fences with horses grazing behind them, and even a fuzzy cow and a couple of mules.  I guess I don't have much else to write about today, but I do have photos!

The Texas Twenty

The view as we began to near Kerrville, Tex.

La Grange, Tex. -- I've done it again.  I've waited a long time to post and now can't remember everything I intended to write.  To start, we are still in Texas.  We will be in Texas for four more days, if I remember correctly, with one layover day in Navasota.  Thereafter, we cross into Louisiana, although given the humidity we've seen lately, we might as well already be there.  I cannot imagine living here year round.  And, I have, for the perhaps the first time in my life, something complimentary to say about Texas: the Hill Country is beautiful and an absolute blast through which to ride a bike.  It's an incredibly different landscape than the desert, out of which we transitioned on the 111-mile bike ride to Del Rio.  That was my first century, and I was glad to ride it.  Now my friends say I need to ride a double century.  Uh oh.  Anyhow, when it's all said and done, we will have spent twenty days riding through this gigantic state.

I don't even know what to say.  I've had fun with my roommates and now that we've gained a new member (a woman named Linda joined us at the halfway mark), we have a rotating single.  I was fortunate enough to receive it when we had a layover day and spent the day relaxing and rejoicing in my solitude.  In Blanco, Tex., I spent a lovely afternoon with Eva, Victoria and Nancy at a restaurant where I had my first microbrew of the trip, a delicious Scottish ale.  I have eaten excellent food, all of it cooked by Linda, because Texas doesn't really know how to feed a vegetarian.  I've had long rides and short rides, and finally (!) the first cloudy weather of the trip.  And oh yes, the humidity.  It really did amaze me how it went from just about zero percent humidity to seventy percent or more humidity all within one bicycle ride.  The color green is, again, part of my life, and all the trees are more or less fully leafed out.  It looks like the middle of summer here (which, again, is why I could never, in a million years, imagine living here in the true dead of summer).  I've experienced more horrible Texas chip-seal than I ever dreamed I would and can't wait to pick only butter-smooth roads to ride on when I get home.

Another mile marker would be the fact that we have completed half the trip.  We are halfway there, and while I previously counted up the days, I now can start counting them down.  Or Paul, my boyfriend, can count them down!  (He somehow can't read the blog on his phone, but I know he's looking forward to my return.)  Let's see.  What else?  I had a new chain put on my bike after the day when it broke.  One day, it was horribly cold and I underdressed and ended up bicycling the rest of the day in my down jacket.  Never expected to do that.  We stayed in gorgeous cabins on a river in Vanderpool.  I bought my friend, Lise, a half-gallon of ice cream as a joke and she ate the entire thing.  In one night.  Without gaining an ounce.

So yeah.  Things are going well, and the outlook is good that they will remain so.

A Hop, Jump and a Skip

Sanderson, Tex. -- I spent the first ten miles of the ride today conversing with a retired couple riding a tandem bike, self supported, to Canada (and here I thought we were doing a big ride).  They used to teach in Clinton, Conn., and Orange, and lived in Madison, the town neighboring my hometown.  Even before I met them, however, I met a young couple riding to Maine, who, like me, had applied to graduate school and were taking advantage of the time before it began to go on an adventure.  Anyhow -- back to the tandem couple -- they have ridden over 60,000 miles on their bike over the 36 years they have been married.  Every seven years, they took a sabbatical from work to go on adventures that took them across Australia, on the Pacific Crest Trail, from Finland to Spain, and so on and so forth.  Their story is something of an inspiration to me -- that there are people who have figured out how to travel extensively while also conducting a relatively normal life.

Once we hit the hills, I left the tandem couple behind and rode with Victoria to the first SAG stop.  We talked about life and some of the social changes she has witnessed during her life and then we talked about food, always a delicious subject.  That reminds me that at breakfast this morning, the chef noticed I didn't eat the quiche she made because it had bacon in it, and she made me my very own omelet with cheese (too much, perhaps), spinach, red onions, shitake mushrooms, carrots and zucchini.  She made a second one for the other vegetarian, Katherine, but Katherine had already left, so I packed it for lunch.  It was one of the moments where I had to reflect on how good it is to be a vegetarian.  But I did not, in fact, eat it for lunch.

I rode off on my own after the first SAG stop and decided I would make it my mission to catch the front of the group.  I rode the 20 miles in less than an hour and had I sprinted just a little bit faster, I would have caught them.  As it stood, though, they finished two hundred yards or so ahead of me.  They didn't know I was racing them, so .. you know .. it didn't matter.  I rode the final 15 miles in by myself, just spinning and enjoying the day.  I hit a headwind and that slowed me down a bit, but the wind also kept me cool.  Texas is already ridiculously hot, and it's not even April.  Thank God I don't actually live here.

For those who are aware that I applied to graduate school, I made my decision and will be moving to New Hampshire this summer.  I'm really excited because I'll be living essentially on the ocean with the mountains only a short drive away.  I will once again be able to see all the beautiful fall foliage.  There are only one or two depressing points about this -- the sun doesn't shine as often in New England as in Colorado, and I really, really love Colorado.  But that's okay.  I'll also be closer to high school and college friends, and my folks.  And UNH has a cycling team, which I may very well join.  

Last night we stayed at The Gage hotel in Marathon, Texas.  It was stunning, each room decorated with a different theme, a pool lit with changing lights, a courtyard that one guest described as looking like a fairy kingdom at night.  My parents would have adored it, I suspect.  I meant to take pictures, but I'm afraid I forgot.  Tonight, we are at the Outback Oasis.  It is, without a doubt, a step down from The Gage.  It's a serviceable hotel, though, and the owner has offered to run a load of laundry for us, which is very generous.  I had lunch in town with some of the ladies, but it was barbecue day, so all they offered on the menu was meat.  I asked if they could make me a cheese sandwich instead, and the waitress told me they would, and she made exactly what I requested: two slices of Kraft cheddar cheese on a bun.  No condiments.  No lettuce, tomato or onion.  Just a good ol' plain cheese sandwich.  Maybe that was Texas' way of saying we don't serve your vegetarian kind here.  Who knows.

P.S.  One more bit of catching up news:  We rode a 90 mile day from Van Horn to Ft. Davis that was a real killer -- 25 MPH headwinds followed by big old hills and wicked descents.  After the last descent, we hit a final hill and as I started to gear down, much to my surprise, my chain completely fell off my bike.  It just split.  I thought that my day had ended, for sure, and said goodbye to Nancy and Lise, my riding partners, but just before they left, I realized the pin remained in the chain and that I had my chain tool.  So after a frustrating fifteen minutes, I reassembled the chain and finished the ride.  Yay!

Now it's really time for my bad mechanical luck to end.

Galumphing Through Texas

Van Horn, Tex. -- Today we had my favorite breakfast: scrambled eggs that Linda cooked up for us with fresh corn tortillas.  I enjoyed it so much that I packed a second serving, which I ate at the first and second SAG stops.  It was my first time eating corn tortillas that fresh, and I must say, they were good.  Better than store-bought Mission tortillas.

I brought out my mirror for the first time this trip -- mostly because Lise chastised me for not using one.  I also broke in my new Gatorskin tires, which I put on my rims yesterday evening.  I've become quite adept at changing tires, having had three flats and then changing two tires yesterday evening.  Just as Dianne told me, the new tires rolled beautifully on the road.  And for the first time in three rides, I completed the day with *no* flat tires!

I set out this morning on my own and passed by a few of the other riders.  Some ten miles down the road, I saw Lise and Nancy in my rearview mirror (the one she recommended I use) and when I doubted my directions, I joined up with them, hanging just off their rear wheel.  We had a lovely ride with a tailwind, and together, we caught up with Fionna, Kathy, Kathy, and just about everyone else.  As we passed them, we also passed a fork in the road, and I thought to myself, "Is this where we turn?"  But, being eager to stay with Lise and Nancy, I rode on, following them like the good sheep I can sometimes be.  I was looking forward to our first SAG break, and looked at my odometer, which read 25 miles -- and being that the SAG was at 26 miles, and was supposed to just off the interstate (which we were nowhere near), I suspected something was awry.  I told them so, and what do you know, we had gone six miles farther on this road than we ought to have.

We turned around, told Fionna, Kathy, Kathy and the others about our mistake, and promptly rode into a headwind.  Lise suggested we form a pace-line and tackle it as a team.  We did, and the return trip soon passed.  Thus, our 76 mile day turned into an 86 mile day.  Which was not so bad, and in fact, would have been great if the road had been smoother.

So, here we are, another day complete.  Tomorrow we ride 90 miles to Fort Davis, Tex.  And rumor has it, it might be a grueling ride.




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