Algunos de los lectores de este "blog" no leen ingles y me pedian que escriba en espanol sobre mi aventura en bicicleta este verano. Hasta ahora ellos no me han entendido bien acerca este viaje y por razones buenas y entendibles han pensado solo que soy una gringa loca...como siempre.
No puedo traducir todo que ya he escrito a espanol, pero voy a tratar a darles unos ejemplos, unas historias buenas y entretenidas.
EL PLAN
Empezamos. El ano pasado entro en mi mente la idea de cruzar el pais en bicicleta...no se porque. Estuve desempleada varios meses...no tenia mucho de hacer aparte de pensar en ideas muy grandes y abstractas para mi vida...Pense por un tiempo que iba a aplicar por la universidad para obtener un titulo avanzado. Queria visitar a unas escuelas en varias partes de EEUU que ofrecen programas en antropologia para conocerlas, y tambien para tomar un viaje largo. Pero, sin un trabajo, tenia tiempo pero dinero, no. Entonces buscaba una manera de visitar las escuelas sin gastar mucho. Pensaba en tomar el bus, en conducir un auto...y lei en un guia de EEUU que hay gente que monta bicicleta por largas distancias. Pense, que buena idea! Y fue el dia siguiente que hable con un amigo que me conto la historia de su padre quien hizo un viaje de Seattle (una ciudad en el oeste) hasta la costa este (a un estado se llama Maine). Desde luego encontre con varias personas que hubieron hecho viajes semejantes. Y empece a investigar como podria montar una bicicleta de la costa este a la costa oeste visitando escuelas. En los meses siguientes, decidi a no asistir la universidad pero no perdi la fantasia de hacer un viaje en bicicleta.
Preparaba durante un ano, investigando todas las cosas que necesitaria por un viaje asi. Compre una bici nueva, ropa, herramientos, otro equipo...y escoje mas o menos los lugares que queria visitar. No hice planes muy detallados de mi ruta antes de salir pero tenia una idea basica que queria conocer estados en el norte del pais y en el centro. Sabia que queria conocer algunas ciudades como St. Louis y estados como Nebraska y Wyoming. Pero continualmente durante mi viaje yo revisaba la ruta segun los consejos de otras personas, las condiciones de las calles, y mis propios intereses. Y realmente cada dia planeaba la ruta por ese dia no mas.
EL VIAJE--Los Primeros dias
A fines de mayo empece con un grupo de amigos y mi hermana y cunado que me acompanaron hasta Harper's Ferry, West Virginia--como 60 millas de Washington. Llegamos tardes al pueblito y tuvimos que biciclear en un camino no asfaltado en la oscuridad cerca a las 10 por la noche en busco del hostel donde pudimos acampar. El dia siguiente el grupo regreso a Washington, y yo con dos otros amigos continuamos juntos en el camino por 20 millas. Ellos me dejaron despues de almorzar y yo continue sola por la primera vez. Acampe en un sitio designado por gente viajando en este camino--el camino es parte de un parque nacional y es un sitio historico. Hay mucha gente que caminan o montan bicicleta y acampan durante la noche alla. Sin embargo, esa primera noche, yo estuve completemente sola. Y tenia que acostar muy temprano en pleno luz del dia para que no me asuste de ser sola en un lugar tan lejos de "civilizacion." Pero sobrevivi esa noche...y cada otra noche cuando durmia sola en mi carpa.
Ese camino termino en Cumberland, Maryland y empece en un otro camino para bicicletas que era un ferrocarril hasta los medios del siglo pasado. Lo convirtieron en un camino recreacional recientemente. Esta parte de EEUU es pura montana, se llama los Alleghenies, son parte de las Appalachians y los cerros y cuestas son muy duros. Este fue el caso especialmente cuando sali del camino y empece a seguir calles y carreteras en vez de caminos designados por bicicletas. Cruze la frontera de Maryland y entre el estado Pennsylvania. Encontraba cerros tras cerros tras cerros...todo el dia, horas y horas de cerros...valles muy profundos que tuve que subir despues de bajar por 15 millas, por ejemplo.
En Pennsylvania fui a pueblitos pequenitos en puro campo con la gente "Amish" que ocupan carros con caballos y tambien pase lugares que eran pueblos mineros que ahora no tienen ninguna base economica y me deprimian. Cruce al norte del estado West Virgina y pase a Ohio sobre el rio que tambien se llama el Ohio.
EN CONTINUACION...
Friday, September 14, 2007
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Hmmm...Maybe Wyoming wasn't so bad after all
My dear friend Kierstin dedicated an entry in her blog to me and my bike trip. She is currently serving in the Peace Corps in Senegal where she bikes like a bad ass through the desert with tremendous wind and thorns on the road. She and I used to be in a bike gang together in DC--I think it was called the Old Bikes-Yellow Helmets Gang. I don't have a yellow helmet anymore--I have a classy bronze-colored one--and I upgraded my bike, but we're blood sisters to the end.
http://kierstin.typepad.com/so_long_a_letter/2007/08/biking-in-seneg.html
We have a very modern blogcentric relationship.
http://kierstin.typepad.com/so_long_a_letter/2007/08/biking-in-seneg.html
We have a very modern blogcentric relationship.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
The Photos
These aren't all the photos I took but I thought a good sampling would suffice. I'll send around the full album at some point soon.
This is me on the beach in Seaside the day after I finished and when the sun finally came out. It was still really cold and the wind was blowing pretty fierce as can be determined by my 80's side-swept hairdo:
Here's the view from the beach of the national forest and the Pacific Ocean. I thought it was neat that the forest comes right up to the ocean. In the east, at least the beaches I go to, you know you're getting closer to the ocean when the trees start looking more like shrubs. But in the west, the trees are tall and magnificent right up to the sea:
Here's me reenacting reaching my goal in Seaside. My camera didn't have any battery power the day of, so the next day I put my gear back on my bike and rode down a couple blocks from the Seaside hostel to the ocean to take this photo. The day was basically the same--rainy and overcast so you'd never know the difference:
This is Highway 12 in Washington state, surrounded by deserty cliffs. About 10 minutes after I took this photo I stopped for a banana break and was picked up by Dennis and Cynthia Phillips and transported by car to Portland, Oregon. I mainly was on roads much like this throughout the trip:
This is Highway 12 in Idaho. This was a beautiful road, but it was also dangerous because of all the logging trucks. I wouldn't go on this section of the road again if I had the choice:
These are the Grand Tetons at sunset. I took this photo after pitching my tent on a horse pasture at the Triangle X Dude Ranch, owned by Mr. Turner who generously let me camp on his property though it wasn't really allowed:
This is the highest elevation I climbed to on the trip, in Wyoming. Though this wasn't the steepest climb I had to make:
Here's Wyoming, which redeemed itself by being beautiful at times. This is right before I got to Dubois:
Here's Nebraska! That's Lake McConaughy which is a resovoir in the western part of the state. This part of Nebraska was very nice to bike through, it got hilly but there were a lot of great views:
The sunset in Roscoe, Nebraska at Bonnie and Greg Johnson's RV and camping site. They set up an RV Park on their property so I just camped in their yard. It was really nice and Bonnie made me a great breakfast in the morning--highly recommended site to camp right outside Ogallala:
Thanks to the Lincoln, Nebraska Department of Recreation I knew to avoid big trucks. Actually I just thought it was a funny sign:
St. Louis is the Gateway to the West, but I didn't really feel like I was in the West until I got to Nebraska:
This is that beautiful midwestern scene of hayfields and wildflowers. I never asked anyone what that brownish-rusty colored plant was but I thought the colors together were so amazing:
This is me on the beach in Seaside the day after I finished and when the sun finally came out. It was still really cold and the wind was blowing pretty fierce as can be determined by my 80's side-swept hairdo:
Here's the view from the beach of the national forest and the Pacific Ocean. I thought it was neat that the forest comes right up to the ocean. In the east, at least the beaches I go to, you know you're getting closer to the ocean when the trees start looking more like shrubs. But in the west, the trees are tall and magnificent right up to the sea:
Here's me reenacting reaching my goal in Seaside. My camera didn't have any battery power the day of, so the next day I put my gear back on my bike and rode down a couple blocks from the Seaside hostel to the ocean to take this photo. The day was basically the same--rainy and overcast so you'd never know the difference:
This is Highway 12 in Washington state, surrounded by deserty cliffs. About 10 minutes after I took this photo I stopped for a banana break and was picked up by Dennis and Cynthia Phillips and transported by car to Portland, Oregon. I mainly was on roads much like this throughout the trip:
This is Highway 12 in Idaho. This was a beautiful road, but it was also dangerous because of all the logging trucks. I wouldn't go on this section of the road again if I had the choice:
These are the Grand Tetons at sunset. I took this photo after pitching my tent on a horse pasture at the Triangle X Dude Ranch, owned by Mr. Turner who generously let me camp on his property though it wasn't really allowed:
This is the highest elevation I climbed to on the trip, in Wyoming. Though this wasn't the steepest climb I had to make:
Here's Wyoming, which redeemed itself by being beautiful at times. This is right before I got to Dubois:
Here's Nebraska! That's Lake McConaughy which is a resovoir in the western part of the state. This part of Nebraska was very nice to bike through, it got hilly but there were a lot of great views:
The sunset in Roscoe, Nebraska at Bonnie and Greg Johnson's RV and camping site. They set up an RV Park on their property so I just camped in their yard. It was really nice and Bonnie made me a great breakfast in the morning--highly recommended site to camp right outside Ogallala:
Thanks to the Lincoln, Nebraska Department of Recreation I knew to avoid big trucks. Actually I just thought it was a funny sign:
St. Louis is the Gateway to the West, but I didn't really feel like I was in the West until I got to Nebraska:
This is that beautiful midwestern scene of hayfields and wildflowers. I never asked anyone what that brownish-rusty colored plant was but I thought the colors together were so amazing:
Monday, July 30, 2007
I've been blogged
One of the great things about bicycle touring is that everyone who does a cross country trip, all the young people at least, keep a blog. I met a guy on his bike right before I got to the top of Togwotee Pass between Dubois and Moran Junction, Wyoming. John was headed east and is writing a blog about the bars and taverns along the Transamerica bike route that goes from Oregon to Virginia. He was headed to RAGBRAI (the annual ride across Iowa) that my roommate Kat and friend Lauren both did this past week, July 22-28. Anyhow, I'm mentioned on his blog so now I feel famous:
http://barsacrossamerica.blogspot.com/2007/07/sun.html
http://barsacrossamerica.blogspot.com/2007/07/sun.html
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
The last leg
I'm done! Let me walk you through it...though I completely forget the past 2 weeks or so and where I went and what towns I went through. As I've been saying, I will fill in all the details later on and then in about 6 months you'll be able to read all the great stories and see all the great pictures--the fun will never end, because I have no idea when I'll be able to finish writing this all up. It's going to be my "pet project."
Okay, I basically left Wisdom, Montana and then I think I was in Montana two more nights and then I crossed back into Idaho on Highway 12--a beautiful scenic route along the Lochsa River. I was only in Idaho two days because I booked it from Lolo Pass to Lowell and then to Lewiston. From Lolo Pass, which is incredibly steep if you are going west to east, is a perfectly reasonable grade if you're going east to west, and then you go downhill for about 60 miles or so...the first 10 miles are very steep downhill but then it's just a slight decline for the next 50 or so, but noticeably downhill. Other bike tourers headed east that I passed on the road didn't look like they were going to pass out or anything, but I was sure happy that I was going slightly down and not slightly up like them.
Fast forward, I left Lewiston and got out on the road sort of mid-day...I was taking my time. I crossed the bridge into Washington State and traveled about 20 miles down the road through the arid part of the state, took some photos. I was taking a banana break at the bottom of a steep-ish grade when a large truck pulled up next to me and the woman in the passenger seat asked if I wanted a ride up the grade. Presented with the opportunity, I hesitated for a couple seconds but then I couldn't say no, so we heaved my bike into the back and I hopped into the backseat. Cynthia and Dennis Phillips inroduced themselves and we got to talking and having a fun conversation--they were loving my trip and asking me all sorts of questions and I loved being able to talk about it...but before all this we established that I was heading west to Portland and then onto Astoria, Oregon. They said, "Well, we're going to Portland too--so you just let us know when you want to get out of the truck."
I didn't want to get out of the truck. Because they had watermelon and funny stories and we got to talk about so many different things...and I was honestly ready to be done with my trip. So I cheated, and loved every minute of it. Dennis and Cynthia said, "No one will ever have to know, Amelia." But the truth is the truth, and this is what happened.
So I got to Portland in one day! They dropped me off at the Hawthorne Street Hostel and I stayed there for 2 nights so I could check out Portland and buy my plane ticket home. This was Thursday, July 19. So Friday, July 20 I spent the day in Portland hanging out at the library and at Mother's Bar and Bistro which has amazing breakfasts.
Then on Saturday I got back on the bike and rode 60 miles to Clatskanie, Oregon and spent the night at a city park. It had rained off and on the whole day and was chilly. But overnight the temperature was nice.
And then on SUNDAY, JULY 22ND--the best day in the world, my birthday--I rode 37 miles uphill it seemed the entire way to Astoria, Oregon. They make you work for the finish line. But I whipped up those hills, honestly--I was so ready to be DONE! And it excited me to get to Astoria, so I did the 37 miles pretty quickly, in just over 2 and a half hours. And it was completely overcast and drizzling and I had left the campsite at about 7:30 in the morning. So I got to Astoria just in time for breakfast and had a great one on the main street near the Columbia River.
The great thing was that the battery in my camera died right when I got to Astoria so I couldn't even take a picture of myself finishing! But no worries, I charged the battery that night and reenacted my approach of the Pacific Ocean the next morning--it was still raining, so it looked the same. You would never know.
You may remember Astoria, Oregon from the hit 1980s Corey Haim/Feldman classic "The Goonies"--and did they ever pick the perfect place to shoot that film. At least the two days I was there it was both drearily overcast and incredibly picturesque with the houses sitting atop the steep hills and the Columbia River below. There were clouds on top of fog under a blanket of other clouds--and everything was steely gray/blue except for the brightly colored houses on the hills and boats in the port and all the evergreen trees. I got there on Sunday so there was a great farmer's market and crafts market happening, and lots of people milling about, shopping, eating, enjoying the day though it could have been called dreary.
I decided to continue along highway 101 so I could get to a town that was actually on the Pacific Ocean--Astoria is on a peninsula and has the river and a bay...but I couldn't figure out if that was the ocean or not. So I went to Seaside, Oregon where there could be no doubt that I was on the side of the sea. That's where I spent the nght, at another hostel. And I spent another day there and in Astoria walking around, bringing my bike to the shop to have it boxed up and shipped back east, looking for the Goonies house, taking pictures with my newly-revived camera, and walking along the beach when the sun finally came out near the end of the day. It was a beautiful day, so windy and chilly, but beautiful. I also went on a short hike through the national forest right there next to the beach--I turned around before I got all the way to the top of the trail where you could look out over the Pacific because I got started late in the day, but it was a great trail in the middle of a very dense forest.
The next day I hopped on a bus back to Portland with a couple other folks from the hostel. We had a lively conversation for the two hours it took us to get back into the city. Then I got on a train headed for Seattle--that was July 24th. One of the reasons I sent my bike back earlier than I truly needed to was because I heard the siren's song of Seattle and wanted to visit while I had the chance. So that's where I am right now--staying with a friend of Loren's from college named Maria. I spent yesterday biking through the city, borrowing Maria's bike. I biked down to Lake Union and kayaked for 2 and 1/2 hours thanks to Maria's boyfriend, Darren, who used to work at this kayak place so I got to do all this for free...and then I kayaked down to meet Chris. another of Loren and Kat's friends from college (thank you Carleton College) who works at the Center for Wooden Boats on Lake Union. So I kayaked to the dock and then got on a sailboat with Chris and a couple other folks and we sailed for an hour or so. It was all a fantastic time and what a great vacation at the end of my trip!
After all that I went downtown to visit Pike's Place Market, the one where they throw the fish at you or whatever...it was closing down by the time I got there so I couldn't get the full experience, but it was neat to be downtown.
So today I am heading back to Portland on the train and I'll be flying from there tomorrow to BWI in Baltimore. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone back in DC/NOVA! And if you didn't already know, I got a new job that starts almost immediately in August up in Boston. So I actually now have to move from DC to Boston--all the while updating my blog about my bike trip! It's going to be a busy month.
Thanks again to everyone for supporting me on this journey in every way possible--sheltering me, giving me food, being next to a computer when I needed directions or the police's phone number, calling me, leaving me messages--all that stuff. I truly couldn't have done it without all of you. I'll see most of you very soon! And for those of you I met along the way, I can't imagine this being the only time our paths cross. For instance, I am determined to have a fantastic, worry-free experience in Wyoming the next time I go there. And Montana and Idaho, you'll see me again one day.
Love, Amelia
Okay, I basically left Wisdom, Montana and then I think I was in Montana two more nights and then I crossed back into Idaho on Highway 12--a beautiful scenic route along the Lochsa River. I was only in Idaho two days because I booked it from Lolo Pass to Lowell and then to Lewiston. From Lolo Pass, which is incredibly steep if you are going west to east, is a perfectly reasonable grade if you're going east to west, and then you go downhill for about 60 miles or so...the first 10 miles are very steep downhill but then it's just a slight decline for the next 50 or so, but noticeably downhill. Other bike tourers headed east that I passed on the road didn't look like they were going to pass out or anything, but I was sure happy that I was going slightly down and not slightly up like them.
Fast forward, I left Lewiston and got out on the road sort of mid-day...I was taking my time. I crossed the bridge into Washington State and traveled about 20 miles down the road through the arid part of the state, took some photos. I was taking a banana break at the bottom of a steep-ish grade when a large truck pulled up next to me and the woman in the passenger seat asked if I wanted a ride up the grade. Presented with the opportunity, I hesitated for a couple seconds but then I couldn't say no, so we heaved my bike into the back and I hopped into the backseat. Cynthia and Dennis Phillips inroduced themselves and we got to talking and having a fun conversation--they were loving my trip and asking me all sorts of questions and I loved being able to talk about it...but before all this we established that I was heading west to Portland and then onto Astoria, Oregon. They said, "Well, we're going to Portland too--so you just let us know when you want to get out of the truck."
I didn't want to get out of the truck. Because they had watermelon and funny stories and we got to talk about so many different things...and I was honestly ready to be done with my trip. So I cheated, and loved every minute of it. Dennis and Cynthia said, "No one will ever have to know, Amelia." But the truth is the truth, and this is what happened.
So I got to Portland in one day! They dropped me off at the Hawthorne Street Hostel and I stayed there for 2 nights so I could check out Portland and buy my plane ticket home. This was Thursday, July 19. So Friday, July 20 I spent the day in Portland hanging out at the library and at Mother's Bar and Bistro which has amazing breakfasts.
Then on Saturday I got back on the bike and rode 60 miles to Clatskanie, Oregon and spent the night at a city park. It had rained off and on the whole day and was chilly. But overnight the temperature was nice.
And then on SUNDAY, JULY 22ND--the best day in the world, my birthday--I rode 37 miles uphill it seemed the entire way to Astoria, Oregon. They make you work for the finish line. But I whipped up those hills, honestly--I was so ready to be DONE! And it excited me to get to Astoria, so I did the 37 miles pretty quickly, in just over 2 and a half hours. And it was completely overcast and drizzling and I had left the campsite at about 7:30 in the morning. So I got to Astoria just in time for breakfast and had a great one on the main street near the Columbia River.
The great thing was that the battery in my camera died right when I got to Astoria so I couldn't even take a picture of myself finishing! But no worries, I charged the battery that night and reenacted my approach of the Pacific Ocean the next morning--it was still raining, so it looked the same. You would never know.
You may remember Astoria, Oregon from the hit 1980s Corey Haim/Feldman classic "The Goonies"--and did they ever pick the perfect place to shoot that film. At least the two days I was there it was both drearily overcast and incredibly picturesque with the houses sitting atop the steep hills and the Columbia River below. There were clouds on top of fog under a blanket of other clouds--and everything was steely gray/blue except for the brightly colored houses on the hills and boats in the port and all the evergreen trees. I got there on Sunday so there was a great farmer's market and crafts market happening, and lots of people milling about, shopping, eating, enjoying the day though it could have been called dreary.
I decided to continue along highway 101 so I could get to a town that was actually on the Pacific Ocean--Astoria is on a peninsula and has the river and a bay...but I couldn't figure out if that was the ocean or not. So I went to Seaside, Oregon where there could be no doubt that I was on the side of the sea. That's where I spent the nght, at another hostel. And I spent another day there and in Astoria walking around, bringing my bike to the shop to have it boxed up and shipped back east, looking for the Goonies house, taking pictures with my newly-revived camera, and walking along the beach when the sun finally came out near the end of the day. It was a beautiful day, so windy and chilly, but beautiful. I also went on a short hike through the national forest right there next to the beach--I turned around before I got all the way to the top of the trail where you could look out over the Pacific because I got started late in the day, but it was a great trail in the middle of a very dense forest.
The next day I hopped on a bus back to Portland with a couple other folks from the hostel. We had a lively conversation for the two hours it took us to get back into the city. Then I got on a train headed for Seattle--that was July 24th. One of the reasons I sent my bike back earlier than I truly needed to was because I heard the siren's song of Seattle and wanted to visit while I had the chance. So that's where I am right now--staying with a friend of Loren's from college named Maria. I spent yesterday biking through the city, borrowing Maria's bike. I biked down to Lake Union and kayaked for 2 and 1/2 hours thanks to Maria's boyfriend, Darren, who used to work at this kayak place so I got to do all this for free...and then I kayaked down to meet Chris. another of Loren and Kat's friends from college (thank you Carleton College) who works at the Center for Wooden Boats on Lake Union. So I kayaked to the dock and then got on a sailboat with Chris and a couple other folks and we sailed for an hour or so. It was all a fantastic time and what a great vacation at the end of my trip!
After all that I went downtown to visit Pike's Place Market, the one where they throw the fish at you or whatever...it was closing down by the time I got there so I couldn't get the full experience, but it was neat to be downtown.
So today I am heading back to Portland on the train and I'll be flying from there tomorrow to BWI in Baltimore. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone back in DC/NOVA! And if you didn't already know, I got a new job that starts almost immediately in August up in Boston. So I actually now have to move from DC to Boston--all the while updating my blog about my bike trip! It's going to be a busy month.
Thanks again to everyone for supporting me on this journey in every way possible--sheltering me, giving me food, being next to a computer when I needed directions or the police's phone number, calling me, leaving me messages--all that stuff. I truly couldn't have done it without all of you. I'll see most of you very soon! And for those of you I met along the way, I can't imagine this being the only time our paths cross. For instance, I am determined to have a fantastic, worry-free experience in Wyoming the next time I go there. And Montana and Idaho, you'll see me again one day.
Love, Amelia
Saturday, July 14, 2007
10 Days Later...
It's been about ten days or so since I wrote my last blog and here I am at a bed and breakfast in Wisdom, Montana at the friendly owner's computer looking out at the mountains and sunset and horse pastures...Montana, my friends, is an amazing state. I'm really glad I came this way. Well, it's really the only way to come because there aren't many east to west roads through Idaho--I had to come up north, go west through Montana, then I'll head back into Idaho in two days or so and then I'll be able to head west. I'll hit the borders of Washington and Oregon and probably follow the Columbia River on the Washington side until I finally FINALLY make it to Astoria, Oregon.
That's the plan anyway. If there's one thing I've learned on this trip it's to really be prepared for the unexpected. I remember laying in my tent in Grand Island, Nebraska, after doing an awesome amount of miles from Lincoln that day, getting giddy and unable to sleep I was so excited to think that I would make it all the way to the coast in a matter of weeks. But of course Wyoming was the hardest part...and I knew it would be...I just didn't know that this would include:
calling the highway patrol (thanks for the number Loren) to pick me up off the side of the interstate after 3 flat tires in a row...
taking a bus, carrying only my bike tires, tent, and toiletries (and leaving everything else at a gas station in Wheatland, WY), to Cheyenne on the Fourth of July in order to go to the CLOSEST bike shop in Wyoming in order to purchase new tires because I had worn mine out...
once i got to cheyenne having a furnace repairman give me a ride to a bike shop and a camp site out of the goodness of his heart...
celebrating the Fourth in Cheyenne, Wyoming...
getting back on the road and busting a rear brake in the process...which led to getting a ride in a pick up truck with a man named Chris who has a daughter in a punk band, up to Casper through the inspired help of my favorite family, the O'Connor's...
which led me to stay with their close friends and my other favorite family, the Perry's (yes, perry place!) , in Casper...and then getting another ride from Julie Perry through the desolate part of Wyoming where 15 years ago the scary murderer once lived...
which led me to Riverton where I got a cold and watched "Evan Almighty" in a movie theater...
and then to Dubois where I stayed in a motel with shag carpet, which I took a picture of...
i continued to have a cold and then I fell over on some loose sand on the side of the road and scraped my elbow pretty bad...and had headwinds...that was a bad day...
then i got to Moran Junction where nothing was...so I camped out in a horse pasture of a Dude Ranch a few miles down the road thanks to the kindness of the owner, and it was FREEZING but I had an amazing view of the Grand Tetons at sunset...but i didn't get much sleep...
oh, back there I crossed the continental divide at the Togwotee Pass...
and then I cruised into Jackson Hole where all the millionaires have homes and go skiing and I was so tired i could barely function...
so i finally was able to sleep at a hostel in Jackson after many hours of torturous sleep deprivation...
and then the next day I felt renewed and I WALKED up the Teton Pass which is 6 miles at a 10% grade (which is steep by the way) and it took me 3 hours and I wondered why people, like me, put themselves through torture...
then i ate salsa and chips in Victor, Idaho and felt at peace with the world...
That was Wyoming in a nutshell. I'll be filling in the details later on in writing; and it will be much funnier when I reenact my facial expressions in person.
Idaho and Montana have been tough, for the hills and valleys and such, but the landscape and the rivers have been phenomenal. Today I biked on a road between a rocky cliff and a green
hillside with the Big Hole River flowing right next to the road on my right side...and it was beautiful. And before that in Idaho I biked through the Targhee National Forest, on a road which remains the only hill I have loved to climb on this trip...
I love rivers. I have decided rivers are my favorite thing in the world. And the ones here in Montana and Idaho are clear like glass.
Getting closer to the end of my trip, I have equal parts anxiety and impatience. Pretty much I really want to finish...not to necessarily end my trip, but to reach my destination. I started out thinking I might only make it to Nebraska...but I think it only took me getting there to be able to actually make my goal to go across the full United States. I don't naturally like setting goals, or planning, as some of you may know...but now with the goal so close--every day is a test of my ability to take this trip one day at a time and enjoy every moment.
My birthday is July 22nd and I thought I might be able to finish my trip on that day so that it really would be a Hollywood tear-jerker ending to an epic journey...But I think I'll cry just as hard whatever day i finish...so let's just plan to not plan a specific date. I'll finish when I finish!
That's the plan anyway. If there's one thing I've learned on this trip it's to really be prepared for the unexpected. I remember laying in my tent in Grand Island, Nebraska, after doing an awesome amount of miles from Lincoln that day, getting giddy and unable to sleep I was so excited to think that I would make it all the way to the coast in a matter of weeks. But of course Wyoming was the hardest part...and I knew it would be...I just didn't know that this would include:
calling the highway patrol (thanks for the number Loren) to pick me up off the side of the interstate after 3 flat tires in a row...
taking a bus, carrying only my bike tires, tent, and toiletries (and leaving everything else at a gas station in Wheatland, WY), to Cheyenne on the Fourth of July in order to go to the CLOSEST bike shop in Wyoming in order to purchase new tires because I had worn mine out...
once i got to cheyenne having a furnace repairman give me a ride to a bike shop and a camp site out of the goodness of his heart...
celebrating the Fourth in Cheyenne, Wyoming...
getting back on the road and busting a rear brake in the process...which led to getting a ride in a pick up truck with a man named Chris who has a daughter in a punk band, up to Casper through the inspired help of my favorite family, the O'Connor's...
which led me to stay with their close friends and my other favorite family, the Perry's (yes, perry place!) , in Casper...and then getting another ride from Julie Perry through the desolate part of Wyoming where 15 years ago the scary murderer once lived...
which led me to Riverton where I got a cold and watched "Evan Almighty" in a movie theater...
and then to Dubois where I stayed in a motel with shag carpet, which I took a picture of...
i continued to have a cold and then I fell over on some loose sand on the side of the road and scraped my elbow pretty bad...and had headwinds...that was a bad day...
then i got to Moran Junction where nothing was...so I camped out in a horse pasture of a Dude Ranch a few miles down the road thanks to the kindness of the owner, and it was FREEZING but I had an amazing view of the Grand Tetons at sunset...but i didn't get much sleep...
oh, back there I crossed the continental divide at the Togwotee Pass...
and then I cruised into Jackson Hole where all the millionaires have homes and go skiing and I was so tired i could barely function...
so i finally was able to sleep at a hostel in Jackson after many hours of torturous sleep deprivation...
and then the next day I felt renewed and I WALKED up the Teton Pass which is 6 miles at a 10% grade (which is steep by the way) and it took me 3 hours and I wondered why people, like me, put themselves through torture...
then i ate salsa and chips in Victor, Idaho and felt at peace with the world...
That was Wyoming in a nutshell. I'll be filling in the details later on in writing; and it will be much funnier when I reenact my facial expressions in person.
Idaho and Montana have been tough, for the hills and valleys and such, but the landscape and the rivers have been phenomenal. Today I biked on a road between a rocky cliff and a green
hillside with the Big Hole River flowing right next to the road on my right side...and it was beautiful. And before that in Idaho I biked through the Targhee National Forest, on a road which remains the only hill I have loved to climb on this trip...
I love rivers. I have decided rivers are my favorite thing in the world. And the ones here in Montana and Idaho are clear like glass.
Getting closer to the end of my trip, I have equal parts anxiety and impatience. Pretty much I really want to finish...not to necessarily end my trip, but to reach my destination. I started out thinking I might only make it to Nebraska...but I think it only took me getting there to be able to actually make my goal to go across the full United States. I don't naturally like setting goals, or planning, as some of you may know...but now with the goal so close--every day is a test of my ability to take this trip one day at a time and enjoy every moment.
My birthday is July 22nd and I thought I might be able to finish my trip on that day so that it really would be a Hollywood tear-jerker ending to an epic journey...But I think I'll cry just as hard whatever day i finish...so let's just plan to not plan a specific date. I'll finish when I finish!
Monday, July 2, 2007
WYOMING!
I am just about to cross into Wyoming. The license plates on the cars are getting mixed more and more between Nebraska and Wyoming, so I know I'm almost there. I've really blown through Nebraska over the past 5 days. I"ve been doing 100 mile days! I go about the same amount of hours but since it's been so flat I just cruise right along and get more miles done. Be amazed! I sure am.
I've had to deal with a couple flat tires this past week due to a small hole in my tire that keeps letting small rocks and glass from the road puncture my inner tubes. But I reinforced that area with a patch and that's worked so far so good over the past 2 days. Keeping my fingers crossed. Nebraskans are big on self-reliance I'm finding, and no one stopped to ask if I needed help the other day when I was fixing my tube--while in Missouri just about 5 different cars stopped to ask if I needed help when I had a flat there.
But other than making me do everything myself without any moral support, Nebraska has been actually my favorite state so far. Leaving Lincoln I went to Grand Island where I stayed at a great county campground. I had to leave Lincoln on highway 34--little did I know, having not looked at a more detailed map, silly me, 34 runs concurrent with Interstate 180 for about 3 miles. Soooo...I'm cruisin along and I get pulled over by a cop. I had a feeling I was not on the best road, but kept telling myslef I'd been on freeways before, I'm fine if I'm on the shoulder...and there was no "bikes/pedestrians prohibited" sign...but after honestly telling the cop I didn't mean to be on the Interstate, he told me I had two choices: either he could fine me, confiscate my bike and throw me in jail for 2 weeks while I figured out my route OR we could put my bike in his trunk and he could drive me up the road until I got to the non-Interstate part of 34. My heart skipped a beat when he described that first option--though I knew I wasn't in trouble, for a split second I wondered if the seriousness in which the cop said "fine" and "confiscate" and "throw in jail" meant I actually was. But he was a friendly guy who just had a great dead pan...a GREAT dead pan.
So he drove me up the road and when he pulled over to let me out I tried to get out of the backseat like in a normal car, and he asked, "Haven't been in a cop car before?" and that was pretty funny.
So a great beginning to the day.
After Grand Island I pedaled along to Lexington, Nebraska where I stayed with a WarmShowers.org host names Bryan. He worked the night shift at an ethanol plant so he let me have the house to myself and I drank a lot of his root beer in the fridge. When he got home at 8 in the morning he took me out to breakfast and gave me a tour of the ethanol plant which was absolutely fascinating. At points along the road there were different smells correlating to different industries in the town: the Tyson Chicken plant's incinerator (fried grease), the ethanol plant (sweet alcohol), the waste treatment facility (the bathroom of a dirty gas station)...I'll write more about Lexington later because I really learned a lot there and thought it was so cool that Bryan took it upon himself to show me the plant and the town.
After Lexington I made it to just outside Ogallala, Nebraska to an unincorporated town called Roscoe. I stayed with my favorite campground hosts, Bonnie and Greg Johnson--though they actually are in a close tie with Barb and Don at Pershing State Park in Missouri who saved me from a raccoon (more on that later). Bonnie made me a fantastic breakfast with homemade apple butter on toast, and set me up with a huge bag of her own dehydrated fruit (including pineapple) which I have been enjoying ever since. Bonnie and my politics clashed but it was all in good spirit and we really could have talked all day about Hillary Clinton, my liberal New Yorker father, and how hunters and farmers are the true environmentalists. Oh man, that conversation got me through the whole day while I was biking, thinking about my responses to her comments and why I believe what I believe. We did agree on this: rural america has much to offer the entire nation...and that is a definite truth.
Nebraska is beautiful and scenic and the land is something like I've never experienced before. The grasses are gold and white and green and yellow-green, and the handful of trees are the deepest forest green. There are hills and sandy bluffs, which I still don't know what that means, but I'm gonna look it up. And the sky is big and blue. It's amazihng.
Last night I met two Tejanos, Mexican-Americans who live in Texas, but they migrate to Nebraska every year to work the fields up here, sugar beets, corn, and wheat. They do back-breaking work for three months--and generations of their family have been doing the same since the 1950s, coming to the same town of Bridgeport. Eleuteno and Orelia Guerrero are their names and they invited me to come down to Texas and visit them on my next vacation and gave me their address. I'm planning on it. They lived at the motel I stayed at last night.
So Nebraska! It's been a great experience here and I'll plan on writing more about it probably when I get back to DC.
Love to all--Amelia
I've had to deal with a couple flat tires this past week due to a small hole in my tire that keeps letting small rocks and glass from the road puncture my inner tubes. But I reinforced that area with a patch and that's worked so far so good over the past 2 days. Keeping my fingers crossed. Nebraskans are big on self-reliance I'm finding, and no one stopped to ask if I needed help the other day when I was fixing my tube--while in Missouri just about 5 different cars stopped to ask if I needed help when I had a flat there.
But other than making me do everything myself without any moral support, Nebraska has been actually my favorite state so far. Leaving Lincoln I went to Grand Island where I stayed at a great county campground. I had to leave Lincoln on highway 34--little did I know, having not looked at a more detailed map, silly me, 34 runs concurrent with Interstate 180 for about 3 miles. Soooo...I'm cruisin along and I get pulled over by a cop. I had a feeling I was not on the best road, but kept telling myslef I'd been on freeways before, I'm fine if I'm on the shoulder...and there was no "bikes/pedestrians prohibited" sign...but after honestly telling the cop I didn't mean to be on the Interstate, he told me I had two choices: either he could fine me, confiscate my bike and throw me in jail for 2 weeks while I figured out my route OR we could put my bike in his trunk and he could drive me up the road until I got to the non-Interstate part of 34. My heart skipped a beat when he described that first option--though I knew I wasn't in trouble, for a split second I wondered if the seriousness in which the cop said "fine" and "confiscate" and "throw in jail" meant I actually was. But he was a friendly guy who just had a great dead pan...a GREAT dead pan.
So he drove me up the road and when he pulled over to let me out I tried to get out of the backseat like in a normal car, and he asked, "Haven't been in a cop car before?" and that was pretty funny.
So a great beginning to the day.
After Grand Island I pedaled along to Lexington, Nebraska where I stayed with a WarmShowers.org host names Bryan. He worked the night shift at an ethanol plant so he let me have the house to myself and I drank a lot of his root beer in the fridge. When he got home at 8 in the morning he took me out to breakfast and gave me a tour of the ethanol plant which was absolutely fascinating. At points along the road there were different smells correlating to different industries in the town: the Tyson Chicken plant's incinerator (fried grease), the ethanol plant (sweet alcohol), the waste treatment facility (the bathroom of a dirty gas station)...I'll write more about Lexington later because I really learned a lot there and thought it was so cool that Bryan took it upon himself to show me the plant and the town.
After Lexington I made it to just outside Ogallala, Nebraska to an unincorporated town called Roscoe. I stayed with my favorite campground hosts, Bonnie and Greg Johnson--though they actually are in a close tie with Barb and Don at Pershing State Park in Missouri who saved me from a raccoon (more on that later). Bonnie made me a fantastic breakfast with homemade apple butter on toast, and set me up with a huge bag of her own dehydrated fruit (including pineapple) which I have been enjoying ever since. Bonnie and my politics clashed but it was all in good spirit and we really could have talked all day about Hillary Clinton, my liberal New Yorker father, and how hunters and farmers are the true environmentalists. Oh man, that conversation got me through the whole day while I was biking, thinking about my responses to her comments and why I believe what I believe. We did agree on this: rural america has much to offer the entire nation...and that is a definite truth.
Nebraska is beautiful and scenic and the land is something like I've never experienced before. The grasses are gold and white and green and yellow-green, and the handful of trees are the deepest forest green. There are hills and sandy bluffs, which I still don't know what that means, but I'm gonna look it up. And the sky is big and blue. It's amazihng.
Last night I met two Tejanos, Mexican-Americans who live in Texas, but they migrate to Nebraska every year to work the fields up here, sugar beets, corn, and wheat. They do back-breaking work for three months--and generations of their family have been doing the same since the 1950s, coming to the same town of Bridgeport. Eleuteno and Orelia Guerrero are their names and they invited me to come down to Texas and visit them on my next vacation and gave me their address. I'm planning on it. They lived at the motel I stayed at last night.
So Nebraska! It's been a great experience here and I'll plan on writing more about it probably when I get back to DC.
Love to all--Amelia
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Bloomington to Lincoln
Well, well, well...I've been able to secure a computer that does not have a time limit! I was using the one at the Lincoln Public Library, but now I am back at the house I'm staying at and I can use my host's computer. I feel like I have to go backwards now because it's been so long since I added a post. First of all, thanks to all the folks who have already read my previous posts, and thanks for your comments! One of the rewarding things about being away from home and all your friends and loved ones is that I feel like I now get to say things to people I never seem to say when I'm hanging around them all the time--like when's the last time you said "I love you" to a good friend? For me at least that doesn't often happen--but now being away from folks, it's like a big old love fest every time I talk to someone on the phone or write an email. Anyhow, I'm getting a little gushy.
The thing is the other day, June 22nd to be exact, I woke up at Pershing State Park in northern Missouri and had two voicemails from Gina and Phil from the previous night which was also the day they got married. ! They were lovely and hilarious voicemails and after talking to Gina for a few minutes on the phone that morning I began my ride that day feeling pretty darn great. In fact I couldn't keep myself from smiling to myself while riding down the highway and telling myself that I keep having the best days of my life on this trip. Like every day offers something surprising and rewarding: whether it's a short conversation with a stranger at a restaurant, or a great meal, or a completely flat, windless 10 mile stretch of road, or a small town that I pass through...That day I really felt a rush of giddiness and I definitely have Gina and Phil to thank for it.
At the same time, these past few days have also been some of the hardest. I think coming up on the first month of being out on the road is maybe a tough time for all bike tourers. At least for me it has been. The last two days in Missouri felt like they would never end or rather that the state would never end; I had all sorts of mishaps trying to get to a campsite one night which I'll write about in detail later on; and something people don't really understand about the midwest is that it actually isn't all flat. Missouri in fact has some of the hilliest ground I've had to cover. So I've had literal and figurative ups and downs over the past week or so since I left Bloomington.
Currently, as I said before, I'm in Lincoln, Nebraska, which is an awesome town. I've really been lucky to have connected with folks from an organization called Community Crops. An acquaintance (I feel like I've never had to actually spell that word before. Is that right?) of mine from DC who is doing a bike trip from DC to Montreal with a couple other people to document community garden and farm share (CSA) initiatives along the east coast told me about Community Crops and said I should check it out when I got to Lincoln. The folks here have been extremely welcoming especially since I contacted them completely out of the blue and just asked if I could help out and talk with them about the organization while I was passing through on my trip.
One of the staff, Brad, is hosting me at his house and all the other staff have already invited me to dinner at their house or to hang out tonight and see Lincoln's "Jazz in June" outdoor concert. I've been able to have great conversations about local food and whether there's really a "movement" in the U.S. to eat more locally grown produce and support smaller, regional farms. Today, as I wrote earlier, I spent the morning weeding rows of squash with some folks from Community Crops. Tomorrow I'm hoping to visit some of the youth community garden programs they have going.
There now, you have a new blog post to read. Talk to you all soon!
The thing is the other day, June 22nd to be exact, I woke up at Pershing State Park in northern Missouri and had two voicemails from Gina and Phil from the previous night which was also the day they got married. ! They were lovely and hilarious voicemails and after talking to Gina for a few minutes on the phone that morning I began my ride that day feeling pretty darn great. In fact I couldn't keep myself from smiling to myself while riding down the highway and telling myself that I keep having the best days of my life on this trip. Like every day offers something surprising and rewarding: whether it's a short conversation with a stranger at a restaurant, or a great meal, or a completely flat, windless 10 mile stretch of road, or a small town that I pass through...That day I really felt a rush of giddiness and I definitely have Gina and Phil to thank for it.
At the same time, these past few days have also been some of the hardest. I think coming up on the first month of being out on the road is maybe a tough time for all bike tourers. At least for me it has been. The last two days in Missouri felt like they would never end or rather that the state would never end; I had all sorts of mishaps trying to get to a campsite one night which I'll write about in detail later on; and something people don't really understand about the midwest is that it actually isn't all flat. Missouri in fact has some of the hilliest ground I've had to cover. So I've had literal and figurative ups and downs over the past week or so since I left Bloomington.
Currently, as I said before, I'm in Lincoln, Nebraska, which is an awesome town. I've really been lucky to have connected with folks from an organization called Community Crops. An acquaintance (I feel like I've never had to actually spell that word before. Is that right?) of mine from DC who is doing a bike trip from DC to Montreal with a couple other people to document community garden and farm share (CSA) initiatives along the east coast told me about Community Crops and said I should check it out when I got to Lincoln. The folks here have been extremely welcoming especially since I contacted them completely out of the blue and just asked if I could help out and talk with them about the organization while I was passing through on my trip.
One of the staff, Brad, is hosting me at his house and all the other staff have already invited me to dinner at their house or to hang out tonight and see Lincoln's "Jazz in June" outdoor concert. I've been able to have great conversations about local food and whether there's really a "movement" in the U.S. to eat more locally grown produce and support smaller, regional farms. Today, as I wrote earlier, I spent the morning weeding rows of squash with some folks from Community Crops. Tomorrow I'm hoping to visit some of the youth community garden programs they have going.
There now, you have a new blog post to read. Talk to you all soon!
A long time coming...
i have 4 minutes to update my blog! i don't have time for proper punctuation! i am currently in lincoln, nebraska and i am now actually beginning to feel like i'm in the west. since bloomington i have had oh so many more interesting experiences and i can't wait to write all about them as soon as i can.
in lincoln i'm visiting a community garden and farm project so i spent the morning weeding squash plants.
more later...
in lincoln i'm visiting a community garden and farm project so i spent the morning weeding squash plants.
more later...
Monday, June 11, 2007
Just some pictures
It was hard to get the right angle, but here's the proof:
And here's me and my bucket of fried chicken on the Ohio River which I'll write about later:
And here's when I finally got to Bloomington and got a ride with my cousin Rachel and her fiance Brandon. I walked out of a restaurant and saw my fully loaded bike hanging in mid air on the back of Brandon's car and burst out laughing. Isn't this a ridiculous sight?
And here's me and my bucket of fried chicken on the Ohio River which I'll write about later:
And here's when I finally got to Bloomington and got a ride with my cousin Rachel and her fiance Brandon. I walked out of a restaurant and saw my fully loaded bike hanging in mid air on the back of Brandon's car and burst out laughing. Isn't this a ridiculous sight?
Onward to Cincinnati
Before leaving Madison Lake State Park on day 11 I called my friend Adam to ask him to give his parents a heads up that I would be crashing at their house in the next day or two. I thought I would take a scenic route along the Ohio River to get to Cinci and it would take me a day or two, but then Adam told me about a rail trail that will eventually go all the way from Cleveland to Cincinnati that I could take instead.
I headed out and ran into another biker named Gary. He had done some touring and had all sorts of questions for me and stories to tell. He showed me where the Loveland rail trail started in London, OH and took me to the bike shop (Young's Cycles, if I remember correctly) to get my chain lubed up and my handlebar fixed from my fall the day before. Gary was a great conversationalist and we talked about everything from immigration policy and NAFTA to a cruise he'd taken with his wife in Alaska and what his kids do for a living. It made the 20 or so miles he rode with me to South Charleston go by a whole lot faster and more pleasant.
The next stop I made on the rail trail was Xenia, OH where I met up with Phil--yet another fellow biker who had done a lot of touring. He didn't know how many times he had crisscrossed the country but he had plenty of stories to tell and we bonded over out mutual interest and experience with Jewish film festivals. Then he bought me ice cream, and we also talked about immigration policy--I didn't even bring it up!! These rail trail bikers have a one-track mind!
So I continued on the rail trail and realized I'd be able to make it to Cincinnati that very day. Though I had to bike about 87 miles or so, it wasn't so bad since it was a flat, straight shot on the trail. That was the most I had biked in a day up until that point. I called Adam's dad and we planned for him to pick me up at Milford, OH.
Adam's House
Meeting Adam's parents and staying at his house was many things: hilarious, wonderful, revealing...it's funny to meet one of your friends' parents when your friend isn't there. Adam's dad, Al, did a cross country tour two years ago and we immediately bonded over our mutual fascination with country roads and eating as much food as you could ever possibly want to eat in one sitting. Al encouraged me to find more back roads to ride on, rather than the bigger roads I was choosing because they're more clearly labeled on the maps I'm using. And he had plenty of stories I couldn't yet relate to like drinking lots of beer every night and cresting steep mountain passes in the middle of snowstorms...but I'm sure I'll get to that.
Another great thing about Adam's house was the shampoo in the guest bathroom. It was called Wash 'n' Clean and the directions and ingredients were all in Russian. Where it would say, on an American brand shampoo, "moisturizing" or "for normal to oily hair" it said only "Greasy" in English. I thought the Russian manufacturer could use a lesson or two in marketing. But it made me laugh because it was a full bottle and I'm sure it's just there for show.
Skyline and Graeter's
The Gerhardstein's took me to Cincinnati staples Skyline Chili and Graeter's homemade ice cream. I'm not sure if I'm spelling Graeter's correctly...but anyway. The chili is an old Greek recipe and they put it on top of spaghetti noodles which I thought was CRAZY at first, but then got over it pretty quickly and thought it was great. I ordered the chili "5-way" with a layer of onions and a layer of beans along with the chili, noodles, and cheese. Graeter's was delicious of course, but I did work in an ice cream store for 3 and a half years in high school so it's hard for me not to love ice cream in all its forms.
Megan Joiner's parents joined us at Skyline and so I got a great update on Megan's seminary career. Megan's mom, Mary, also told us all about her trip along the Silk Road through China, Mongolia, Turkey, et al and that was particularly fascinating. If you're reading this Megan--it was great to be reunited with you at least spiritually at that point!
I got to see the Cincinnati skyline at night, and see the very steep church steps on Mt. Adam's where devout Catholics crawl on their knees to the top for Easter or some other holy day.
More on Cincinnati
I spent the next day in downtown Cinci at the Underground Railroad Freedom Center which is a great museum dedicated to the people and routes that made up the Underground Railroad. I'll have to write more about this in a subsequent "blog" or maybe just in my own journal, but it definitely got me thinking about the economic impact of slavery in a way I hadn't really thought of before--that our country's wealth was basically built on slavery and as an industry it was far more profitable for individuals than other industries of the time.
Since Al is a civil rights attorney and both he and Mimi, Adam's mom, have been involved in humanitarian and social justice causes for forever, they gave me a good social history of the city as well. Learning the history of racism in the city and the recent riots in 2001 that came out of police brutality towards African-Americans, made that history seem glaringly absent when there was no real mention of it, or ways Cincinnati is dealing with the effects of racism, at the Underground Railroad museum...I guess no one would want to got to a museum that hit you over the head with that much reality...but still. The museum included sections that were supposed to make you think critically about current social issues like immigration, gender and racial stereotypes, racial profiling, gay rights, the environment--it kind of went all over the place--but it still felt like there were elephants in the room that weren't being dealt with in a constructive way.
Enough about that for now. After the museum I had dinner with neighbors of the Gerhardsteins, Jen Thompson and her parents. They were hilarious, warm, and laughed at everything I said--basically they immediately made me feel part of the family by being just as eccentric as I am. They took me to Putz's Creamy Whip (soft serve ice cream) --and I will now only refer to ice cream as Creamy Whip because it's such a ridiculous thing to say. They also had a beautiful old house built in the 1850s with a backyard gazebo-type shelter built in the 1930s and two pretty little ponds for fish.
So then the next day, after deciding on a good route along the Ohio River with Al and having him replenish my supply of energy bars (Luna Bars are still my favorite, and the Snickers one is terrible, though it is "fortified for women"), I left Cincinnati and headed to Bloomington, IN to stay with my cousin Rachel. Al also gave me "Energy Gu" which is the most terrible, disgusting pudding-y substance that you will grow to actually love--I used it the next day when I was totally burnt out of energy--one pocket shot of Gu and I was full steam ahead for the next couple hours.
I headed out and ran into another biker named Gary. He had done some touring and had all sorts of questions for me and stories to tell. He showed me where the Loveland rail trail started in London, OH and took me to the bike shop (Young's Cycles, if I remember correctly) to get my chain lubed up and my handlebar fixed from my fall the day before. Gary was a great conversationalist and we talked about everything from immigration policy and NAFTA to a cruise he'd taken with his wife in Alaska and what his kids do for a living. It made the 20 or so miles he rode with me to South Charleston go by a whole lot faster and more pleasant.
The next stop I made on the rail trail was Xenia, OH where I met up with Phil--yet another fellow biker who had done a lot of touring. He didn't know how many times he had crisscrossed the country but he had plenty of stories to tell and we bonded over out mutual interest and experience with Jewish film festivals. Then he bought me ice cream, and we also talked about immigration policy--I didn't even bring it up!! These rail trail bikers have a one-track mind!
So I continued on the rail trail and realized I'd be able to make it to Cincinnati that very day. Though I had to bike about 87 miles or so, it wasn't so bad since it was a flat, straight shot on the trail. That was the most I had biked in a day up until that point. I called Adam's dad and we planned for him to pick me up at Milford, OH.
Adam's House
Meeting Adam's parents and staying at his house was many things: hilarious, wonderful, revealing...it's funny to meet one of your friends' parents when your friend isn't there. Adam's dad, Al, did a cross country tour two years ago and we immediately bonded over our mutual fascination with country roads and eating as much food as you could ever possibly want to eat in one sitting. Al encouraged me to find more back roads to ride on, rather than the bigger roads I was choosing because they're more clearly labeled on the maps I'm using. And he had plenty of stories I couldn't yet relate to like drinking lots of beer every night and cresting steep mountain passes in the middle of snowstorms...but I'm sure I'll get to that.
Another great thing about Adam's house was the shampoo in the guest bathroom. It was called Wash 'n' Clean and the directions and ingredients were all in Russian. Where it would say, on an American brand shampoo, "moisturizing" or "for normal to oily hair" it said only "Greasy" in English. I thought the Russian manufacturer could use a lesson or two in marketing. But it made me laugh because it was a full bottle and I'm sure it's just there for show.
Skyline and Graeter's
The Gerhardstein's took me to Cincinnati staples Skyline Chili and Graeter's homemade ice cream. I'm not sure if I'm spelling Graeter's correctly...but anyway. The chili is an old Greek recipe and they put it on top of spaghetti noodles which I thought was CRAZY at first, but then got over it pretty quickly and thought it was great. I ordered the chili "5-way" with a layer of onions and a layer of beans along with the chili, noodles, and cheese. Graeter's was delicious of course, but I did work in an ice cream store for 3 and a half years in high school so it's hard for me not to love ice cream in all its forms.
Megan Joiner's parents joined us at Skyline and so I got a great update on Megan's seminary career. Megan's mom, Mary, also told us all about her trip along the Silk Road through China, Mongolia, Turkey, et al and that was particularly fascinating. If you're reading this Megan--it was great to be reunited with you at least spiritually at that point!
I got to see the Cincinnati skyline at night, and see the very steep church steps on Mt. Adam's where devout Catholics crawl on their knees to the top for Easter or some other holy day.
More on Cincinnati
I spent the next day in downtown Cinci at the Underground Railroad Freedom Center which is a great museum dedicated to the people and routes that made up the Underground Railroad. I'll have to write more about this in a subsequent "blog" or maybe just in my own journal, but it definitely got me thinking about the economic impact of slavery in a way I hadn't really thought of before--that our country's wealth was basically built on slavery and as an industry it was far more profitable for individuals than other industries of the time.
Since Al is a civil rights attorney and both he and Mimi, Adam's mom, have been involved in humanitarian and social justice causes for forever, they gave me a good social history of the city as well. Learning the history of racism in the city and the recent riots in 2001 that came out of police brutality towards African-Americans, made that history seem glaringly absent when there was no real mention of it, or ways Cincinnati is dealing with the effects of racism, at the Underground Railroad museum...I guess no one would want to got to a museum that hit you over the head with that much reality...but still. The museum included sections that were supposed to make you think critically about current social issues like immigration, gender and racial stereotypes, racial profiling, gay rights, the environment--it kind of went all over the place--but it still felt like there were elephants in the room that weren't being dealt with in a constructive way.
Enough about that for now. After the museum I had dinner with neighbors of the Gerhardsteins, Jen Thompson and her parents. They were hilarious, warm, and laughed at everything I said--basically they immediately made me feel part of the family by being just as eccentric as I am. They took me to Putz's Creamy Whip (soft serve ice cream) --and I will now only refer to ice cream as Creamy Whip because it's such a ridiculous thing to say. They also had a beautiful old house built in the 1850s with a backyard gazebo-type shelter built in the 1930s and two pretty little ponds for fish.
So then the next day, after deciding on a good route along the Ohio River with Al and having him replenish my supply of energy bars (Luna Bars are still my favorite, and the Snickers one is terrible, though it is "fortified for women"), I left Cincinnati and headed to Bloomington, IN to stay with my cousin Rachel. Al also gave me "Energy Gu" which is the most terrible, disgusting pudding-y substance that you will grow to actually love--I used it the next day when I was totally burnt out of energy--one pocket shot of Gu and I was full steam ahead for the next couple hours.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Day 8 through Day 11
I didn't keep a good record over these few days. It all started because it rained the first day I was in Ohio and my bike computer mileage counter was disrupted for an unknown amount of miles. From Wheeling I crossed the Ohio River into Ohio and then had to come up out the valley I had so blissfully descended into the previous evening.
I didn't see the sign saying I had crossed the state line. It was on the bridge over the car traffic I've been told, but I was on the pedestrian walkway off to the side so I missed it. It took me a few minutes to realize I was in Ohio and then I finally was able to celebrate.
After a long time, through the rain and after I took a break for lunch, route 40 dead ended and turned into Interstate 70 which it had been paralleling up to that point. Having no other option, I had to choose between going north or south on "Country Road 100" which was a gravel "road" that weaved its way through rolling countryside.
Here's me in the rain:
And here's the countryside in the rain:
Detours and Dogs
So I chose south. As I walked my bike up the gravel hill to the top not knowing where it would lead me, I started singing "Are You Ready for the Country?" by Neil Young. That lightened the mood and made me feel less anxious. I finally reached some houses and was able to ask a guy on a tractor if the road would take me somewhere and not just dead end a few miles up. He sounded confident so I kept on truckin down the road into Barnesville, OH which was pretty cute if a little rundown.
My only obstacle was a ferocious-looking dog who came bounding towards me barking and growling as I tried to pass. He was only defending his house and territory and he stayed about 10 or 15 feet away from me the whole time, but he seemed a little wiley so I stopped my bike and tried to "talk him down." Not an easy task. But I put on my best cooing doggy voice, found a stick and threw it into the yard of the house. He was distracted for a split second so I tried to make my escape but he came bounding back barking louder this time. I kept calm and waited a little while before throwing a second stick. He finally took the bait and ran down towards the house and I made off like a bandit.
I went through Barnesville, through Quaker City and onto Lore City on great (paved) country roads with the sun going down and farmland all around. It was wonderful. As I rode through Quaker City a Little League game was going on and a group of kids yelled out to me "Biker! Hey it's a biker! Hi Biker!!" as I passed them 50 yards away. That was the best part of the day.
Cambridge, OH
I made it back to route 40 and found a hotel out past the downtown area of Cambridge. There were a number of signs for glass making studios and museums so I figure that is the craft of the area; though the museum was closed the day I was passing through so I couldn't check it out.
For hotels, I had my choice of the Best Western/Denny's corporate combo, the Holiday Inn/Ruby Tuesday's, or the Comfort Inn/Cracker Barrel. Of course I chose Cracker Barrel and was able to get a discounted price on the hotel room because the young woman behind the counter took pity on me after seeing me come in on a bike. Best way to travel, folks.
Day 9 to Granville
I spent the day on route 40 which had a nice bike lane along most of it. Nearing 8 pm I called Peggy and Kevin Corrigan, friends of my friend Barbara Wilson, who I would be staying with that night. Peggy asked if I wanted to be picked up and I of course answered "Oh no! I can make it! Don't worry!" Well, thankfully they didn't listen and Kevin came out and met me after I had turned onto route 37 about 8 miles outside of Granville. I believe I was eating a leftover piece of garlic bread when he showed up and said "I love Barbara Wilson" as the secret code so I knew it was him.
Staying with Peggy and Kevin was absolutely great--my first time staying not in a tent or in hotel--and Kevin cooked up some of the best food I could have hoped for. The night I got there I had little salmon appetizer things covered with poppy and sesame seeds, salad, rice, and shrimp dumplings, and homemade salt-crusted bread. We talked and Peggy told me about the train ride she took across Siberia when she was around my age and Kevin told me about winter hiking in the Great Smoky Mountains on an Outward Bound trip. In the morning Kevin made ricotta pancakes--so Kat write this down for when I get back to DC: ricotta cheese, white pastry flour, baking soda, baking powder, apple cider vinegar...hopefully that's the full recipe or else we'll look it up. Anyhow, I had around 6 or 7 or the pancakes that morning.
Through Columbus
The next day I slept in, enjoyed the ricotta pancakes, and then headed off to Columbus. Starting off that morning I had to wear a long-sleeve shirt and pants because it was so chilly. I had discussed how to get into Columbus with Peggy and Kevin but ended up running into two other bikers on the road and they gave me a map of smaller roads ("country as all get out" one of the bikers said to me) to take into the city. But closer to the city i couldn't avoid biking through the sprawl, so it wasn't ideal conditions or great views, but it was all right.
Part of the time I was biking on the sidewalk on my way into the downtown area. One of my panniers clipped a "decorative rock" that was jutting out of someone's yard area so I fell over and smashed my right handlebar on the ground. I got a couple scrapes on my knee and ripped my long-sleeve shirt at the elbow, but I was able to get up and keep riding with no problem, though my handlebar was bent. So note to self: stay off the sidewalks, they suck.
I ate lunch in Columbus next to a fountain and said hi to the few bike messengers I saw in a spirit of solidarity. Though mainly I just wanted to leave the city because I felt too conspicuous with all my bags on my bike--occasionally the staring and attention gets to be a little much and when it's all condensed in one place like a larger, denser city, I just wanted to get out of there.
I rode through western Columbus across the bridge from downtown in order to get back on the roads that would take me to a state park. That part of the city is pretty poor but then leads into Grove City which is a posh-looking touristy area. Very strange where the magic line is that delineates poor from posh when it all seems continuous to an outsider like me.
Illegal Camping
I finally got back to the country roads and took route 665 to Madison Lake State Park. It was a nice time of the day to be riding and the road, though winding and somewhat hilly, was also quiet and serene most of the time. When I got to the state park I realized camping was prohibited, but I asked around and it didn't seem to bother any of the locals that I stay over (the park was located in a residential neighborhood). So I pitched my tent and got ready for bed. Around this time there were a couple rowdy dogs tipping over trash cans near me, but after awhile their owner who lived in a house nearby came out and began calling for them. Hearing all this made me feel better about sleeping alone outside in the park honestly. There was also a couple fishing at the lake (well after park closing time, mind you) and when they walked by my tent, they were a little surprised and called out "hello?" and I called back "Oh hi!" in my cheeriest, I'm not crazy voice. They said "We're just fishing!" and I said "I'm just sleeping!" and we each went about our business. The sheriff/park patrol did come by but they just shined a light onto the park grounds from their motorboat on the lake and failed to see my tent strategically placed behind a large tree.
I heard a train whistle in the distance, and thought to myself it was probably a recording of "camp night sounds" because why else would I hear a train whistle every night I've camped so far? If there isn't a train whistle, it just isn't camping. And then I fell fast asleep.
I didn't see the sign saying I had crossed the state line. It was on the bridge over the car traffic I've been told, but I was on the pedestrian walkway off to the side so I missed it. It took me a few minutes to realize I was in Ohio and then I finally was able to celebrate.
After a long time, through the rain and after I took a break for lunch, route 40 dead ended and turned into Interstate 70 which it had been paralleling up to that point. Having no other option, I had to choose between going north or south on "Country Road 100" which was a gravel "road" that weaved its way through rolling countryside.
Here's me in the rain:
And here's the countryside in the rain:
Detours and Dogs
So I chose south. As I walked my bike up the gravel hill to the top not knowing where it would lead me, I started singing "Are You Ready for the Country?" by Neil Young. That lightened the mood and made me feel less anxious. I finally reached some houses and was able to ask a guy on a tractor if the road would take me somewhere and not just dead end a few miles up. He sounded confident so I kept on truckin down the road into Barnesville, OH which was pretty cute if a little rundown.
My only obstacle was a ferocious-looking dog who came bounding towards me barking and growling as I tried to pass. He was only defending his house and territory and he stayed about 10 or 15 feet away from me the whole time, but he seemed a little wiley so I stopped my bike and tried to "talk him down." Not an easy task. But I put on my best cooing doggy voice, found a stick and threw it into the yard of the house. He was distracted for a split second so I tried to make my escape but he came bounding back barking louder this time. I kept calm and waited a little while before throwing a second stick. He finally took the bait and ran down towards the house and I made off like a bandit.
I went through Barnesville, through Quaker City and onto Lore City on great (paved) country roads with the sun going down and farmland all around. It was wonderful. As I rode through Quaker City a Little League game was going on and a group of kids yelled out to me "Biker! Hey it's a biker! Hi Biker!!" as I passed them 50 yards away. That was the best part of the day.
Cambridge, OH
I made it back to route 40 and found a hotel out past the downtown area of Cambridge. There were a number of signs for glass making studios and museums so I figure that is the craft of the area; though the museum was closed the day I was passing through so I couldn't check it out.
For hotels, I had my choice of the Best Western/Denny's corporate combo, the Holiday Inn/Ruby Tuesday's, or the Comfort Inn/Cracker Barrel. Of course I chose Cracker Barrel and was able to get a discounted price on the hotel room because the young woman behind the counter took pity on me after seeing me come in on a bike. Best way to travel, folks.
Day 9 to Granville
I spent the day on route 40 which had a nice bike lane along most of it. Nearing 8 pm I called Peggy and Kevin Corrigan, friends of my friend Barbara Wilson, who I would be staying with that night. Peggy asked if I wanted to be picked up and I of course answered "Oh no! I can make it! Don't worry!" Well, thankfully they didn't listen and Kevin came out and met me after I had turned onto route 37 about 8 miles outside of Granville. I believe I was eating a leftover piece of garlic bread when he showed up and said "I love Barbara Wilson" as the secret code so I knew it was him.
Staying with Peggy and Kevin was absolutely great--my first time staying not in a tent or in hotel--and Kevin cooked up some of the best food I could have hoped for. The night I got there I had little salmon appetizer things covered with poppy and sesame seeds, salad, rice, and shrimp dumplings, and homemade salt-crusted bread. We talked and Peggy told me about the train ride she took across Siberia when she was around my age and Kevin told me about winter hiking in the Great Smoky Mountains on an Outward Bound trip. In the morning Kevin made ricotta pancakes--so Kat write this down for when I get back to DC: ricotta cheese, white pastry flour, baking soda, baking powder, apple cider vinegar...hopefully that's the full recipe or else we'll look it up. Anyhow, I had around 6 or 7 or the pancakes that morning.
Through Columbus
The next day I slept in, enjoyed the ricotta pancakes, and then headed off to Columbus. Starting off that morning I had to wear a long-sleeve shirt and pants because it was so chilly. I had discussed how to get into Columbus with Peggy and Kevin but ended up running into two other bikers on the road and they gave me a map of smaller roads ("country as all get out" one of the bikers said to me) to take into the city. But closer to the city i couldn't avoid biking through the sprawl, so it wasn't ideal conditions or great views, but it was all right.
Part of the time I was biking on the sidewalk on my way into the downtown area. One of my panniers clipped a "decorative rock" that was jutting out of someone's yard area so I fell over and smashed my right handlebar on the ground. I got a couple scrapes on my knee and ripped my long-sleeve shirt at the elbow, but I was able to get up and keep riding with no problem, though my handlebar was bent. So note to self: stay off the sidewalks, they suck.
I ate lunch in Columbus next to a fountain and said hi to the few bike messengers I saw in a spirit of solidarity. Though mainly I just wanted to leave the city because I felt too conspicuous with all my bags on my bike--occasionally the staring and attention gets to be a little much and when it's all condensed in one place like a larger, denser city, I just wanted to get out of there.
I rode through western Columbus across the bridge from downtown in order to get back on the roads that would take me to a state park. That part of the city is pretty poor but then leads into Grove City which is a posh-looking touristy area. Very strange where the magic line is that delineates poor from posh when it all seems continuous to an outsider like me.
Illegal Camping
I finally got back to the country roads and took route 665 to Madison Lake State Park. It was a nice time of the day to be riding and the road, though winding and somewhat hilly, was also quiet and serene most of the time. When I got to the state park I realized camping was prohibited, but I asked around and it didn't seem to bother any of the locals that I stay over (the park was located in a residential neighborhood). So I pitched my tent and got ready for bed. Around this time there were a couple rowdy dogs tipping over trash cans near me, but after awhile their owner who lived in a house nearby came out and began calling for them. Hearing all this made me feel better about sleeping alone outside in the park honestly. There was also a couple fishing at the lake (well after park closing time, mind you) and when they walked by my tent, they were a little surprised and called out "hello?" and I called back "Oh hi!" in my cheeriest, I'm not crazy voice. They said "We're just fishing!" and I said "I'm just sleeping!" and we each went about our business. The sheriff/park patrol did come by but they just shined a light onto the park grounds from their motorboat on the lake and failed to see my tent strategically placed behind a large tree.
I heard a train whistle in the distance, and thought to myself it was probably a recording of "camp night sounds" because why else would I hear a train whistle every night I've camped so far? If there isn't a train whistle, it just isn't camping. And then I fell fast asleep.
Mile 382.4--Wheeling, West Virginia
The best part about Wheeling, WV is that from the Pennsylvania border, which is about 14 or 15 miles away, route 40 goes completely downhill. I couldn't believe my luck. I had been going up and down those Pennsylvania hills all day and this was a welcome relief. I stopped at a little restuarant right before the state line to fill up on water and iced tea and a couple eating there told me they had passed me earlier on the road. They had passed me near that outdoor swimming pool called Sunset Beach where the water was the same blue as toilet bowl cleaner. The man said I had made good time and that at first he thought I was on a moped because of how fast I was going on a downhill. ( a little self-congratualtory pause is in order) He laughed increduously when I told him my final destination was Nebraska. I think even saying California doesn't get that great of a reaction because it's too ridiculous to even fathom. But Nebraska has a nice ring to it--far away but still believable.
I called Loren when I was in Wheeling and told him about my 10,000 calorie a day diet. (This is the best line I've come up with the whole trip--it always gets a good laugh from a broad audience.) I told him what I had eaten that day for lunch/breakfast (we don't call it brunch out here on the road). I had wedding soup and a quesadilla appetizer, then 2 hotcakes, an english muffin, scrambled eggs, home fries, 2 sausage links, with water and hot tea to drink. It was a whole lot of food and it all was delicious. Loren said, "That's your dream, Amelia." And it is. It truly is.
In Wheeling I also succumbed to Dairy Queen and had an M & M blizzard. And Anne of Green Gables was on public television. This was bliss.
I called Loren when I was in Wheeling and told him about my 10,000 calorie a day diet. (This is the best line I've come up with the whole trip--it always gets a good laugh from a broad audience.) I told him what I had eaten that day for lunch/breakfast (we don't call it brunch out here on the road). I had wedding soup and a quesadilla appetizer, then 2 hotcakes, an english muffin, scrambled eggs, home fries, 2 sausage links, with water and hot tea to drink. It was a whole lot of food and it all was delicious. Loren said, "That's your dream, Amelia." And it is. It truly is.
In Wheeling I also succumbed to Dairy Queen and had an M & M blizzard. And Anne of Green Gables was on public television. This was bliss.
Bentleyville or Bust
So I just said trails were boring and my first day on roads was anything but boring. This was by far the hardest day of my trip up to this point Mostly because I had no idea what was in store for me and I had just come from a very straight-forward, no need to plan anything rail trail that was relatively flat and had a clear map with all the camping sites and food places labeled...
My compass, which had continuously pointed south when it was mounted on my handlebars, began to work again when I fastened it around my wrist. I think the trails were too rough and the compass couldn't handle the vibrations...that's my theory. But once I was on smooth roads it started working. And between it, my Pennsylvania road map, and the helpful advice of gas station attendants, I was able to find my way west and onto a pretty good route.
Route 40
I ended up on route 40 going west, which in Pennsylvania is a pretty busy two-lane highway but it turns into a less busy road when you get further along closer to the West Virginia border. There was a good shoulder to ride on and lots of easy places along the way to stop for a meal or stay the night most of the time. Though as I neared the end of that first day I couldn't seem to find a hotel to stay at. Asking around at the local laundromat in Brownsville, I was told that the closest hotel was back in Uniontown which I had just riden from about 15 miles. I decided to keep chugging on route 40 to get to the next town about 25 miles further west. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it that far since it was already almost 6 pm but there's no better motivator to keep moving than feeling like you might be stuck on the side of the road in the middle of an old coal mining town in southwestern Pennsylvania. Brownsville was by far my least favorite part of route 40...though it had what could have been a nice downtown area given some investment, it was completely abandoned and desolate.
Motel or Auto Glass Repair Shop?
Around this time leaving Brownsville I started playing a game I call "Is that a motel or an auto glass repair shop?" I could also have called it "Is that a motel or a liquor store?" Or "Is that a motel or a gentleman's club?"
There is a funny littel trick Pennsylvanians like to play on travelers. There are a number of "inns" or "hotels" that are actually liquor stores or bars. The bar happens to be housed in an old hotel or motel and they kept the same, now misleading, name.
Anyhow, this was distressing for me as I had already had a difficult and hilly day through the Pennsylvania hillside/mountainside and had promised myself the treat of staying in a hotel that night. I finally stopped at the right gas station and was told there was a Best Western about 6 miles north of where I was, in Bentleyville.
Bentleyville, PA
The road to Bentleyville was actually one of the most beautiful of my trip up to that point. My favorite views are of farmland and snug little houses and barns nestled into the hilly countryside. And there were a lot of those great views. I walked a fair bit up some hills so I had ample opportunity to gaze out and enjoy my evening stroll through the country.
I finally got to the Best Western and had never been so happy to see suburban sprawl in all my life. I ate great gnocchi and downed 2 root beer at CJ's Cafe across the street and then watched movies until late and slept in the next morning.
Duct Tape
I realized in Uniontown that one of the screws holding up my back rack had come loose and fallen out of the eyelet. So I bought some duct tape to keep that side of the rack secure and it's doing the trick. This is my one bike malfunction to speak of, so I think so far so good.
My compass, which had continuously pointed south when it was mounted on my handlebars, began to work again when I fastened it around my wrist. I think the trails were too rough and the compass couldn't handle the vibrations...that's my theory. But once I was on smooth roads it started working. And between it, my Pennsylvania road map, and the helpful advice of gas station attendants, I was able to find my way west and onto a pretty good route.
Route 40
I ended up on route 40 going west, which in Pennsylvania is a pretty busy two-lane highway but it turns into a less busy road when you get further along closer to the West Virginia border. There was a good shoulder to ride on and lots of easy places along the way to stop for a meal or stay the night most of the time. Though as I neared the end of that first day I couldn't seem to find a hotel to stay at. Asking around at the local laundromat in Brownsville, I was told that the closest hotel was back in Uniontown which I had just riden from about 15 miles. I decided to keep chugging on route 40 to get to the next town about 25 miles further west. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it that far since it was already almost 6 pm but there's no better motivator to keep moving than feeling like you might be stuck on the side of the road in the middle of an old coal mining town in southwestern Pennsylvania. Brownsville was by far my least favorite part of route 40...though it had what could have been a nice downtown area given some investment, it was completely abandoned and desolate.
Motel or Auto Glass Repair Shop?
Around this time leaving Brownsville I started playing a game I call "Is that a motel or an auto glass repair shop?" I could also have called it "Is that a motel or a liquor store?" Or "Is that a motel or a gentleman's club?"
There is a funny littel trick Pennsylvanians like to play on travelers. There are a number of "inns" or "hotels" that are actually liquor stores or bars. The bar happens to be housed in an old hotel or motel and they kept the same, now misleading, name.
Anyhow, this was distressing for me as I had already had a difficult and hilly day through the Pennsylvania hillside/mountainside and had promised myself the treat of staying in a hotel that night. I finally stopped at the right gas station and was told there was a Best Western about 6 miles north of where I was, in Bentleyville.
Bentleyville, PA
The road to Bentleyville was actually one of the most beautiful of my trip up to that point. My favorite views are of farmland and snug little houses and barns nestled into the hilly countryside. And there were a lot of those great views. I walked a fair bit up some hills so I had ample opportunity to gaze out and enjoy my evening stroll through the country.
I finally got to the Best Western and had never been so happy to see suburban sprawl in all my life. I ate great gnocchi and downed 2 root beer at CJ's Cafe across the street and then watched movies until late and slept in the next morning.
Duct Tape
I realized in Uniontown that one of the screws holding up my back rack had come loose and fallen out of the eyelet. So I bought some duct tape to keep that side of the rack secure and it's doing the trick. This is my one bike malfunction to speak of, so I think so far so good.
Ohiopyle State Park
I left Frostburg and made it the next day to Ohiopyle State Park where I camped for the night. The camping site was called something else--Kentuck Knob if I remember correctly--and the trail leading off the Allegheny trail and up to the camping area was also something else. It was extremely steep and bikers were asked to dismount and walk their bikes up the hill. No need to ask, it would have been impossible for me to bike up that thing. It was almost a mile long and I only felt vaguely satisfied that I made it up when I got to the top and walked through the campsite and had people ask me if I had just "lugged that thing" up the trail. Many people were impressed, and so of course I said it had been "no big deal."
Overnight there was just okay--a little noisy from the RVers, car campers, etc. There was also a raccoon that tried to get into my waterproof, extra durable Ortlieb bags and eat my food, but I hissed at it and shined my light in its beady little eyes...then I got out of my tent, unhooked my bags from my bike and brought them to the shower building not too far from my site. I stored them overnight there and could get a better night's rest not having to hear a raccoon sniffing around my tent.
Trails
Staying on trails is wonderful, safe, and usually offers fantastically beautiful views of the hills you just climbed, the river you're following, wildlife, etc. etc. But they are also boring as all get out. Frostburg to Ohiopyle was my last full day on the trail and I kept myself entertained by singing songs from "West Side Story" and random other songs I knew only the chorus of or the first line, then I would hum the rest. I was pretty much alone on the trails so I felt free to belt it out.
Here's me on the trail when I crossed into Pennsylvania:
Overnight there was just okay--a little noisy from the RVers, car campers, etc. There was also a raccoon that tried to get into my waterproof, extra durable Ortlieb bags and eat my food, but I hissed at it and shined my light in its beady little eyes...then I got out of my tent, unhooked my bags from my bike and brought them to the shower building not too far from my site. I stored them overnight there and could get a better night's rest not having to hear a raccoon sniffing around my tent.
Trails
Staying on trails is wonderful, safe, and usually offers fantastically beautiful views of the hills you just climbed, the river you're following, wildlife, etc. etc. But they are also boring as all get out. Frostburg to Ohiopyle was my last full day on the trail and I kept myself entertained by singing songs from "West Side Story" and random other songs I knew only the chorus of or the first line, then I would hum the rest. I was pretty much alone on the trails so I felt free to belt it out.
Here's me on the trail when I crossed into Pennsylvania:
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Cumberland to Frostburg
Day 3 was more of the same on the towpath. I thought this bog was particularly striking when I passed it: 
One thing I decided was that I couldn't sleep at a campsite anywhere near an old canal lockhouse. Any creepy historical building nearby I knew would scare me silly that night so I ended up staying in a nice open field at a campsite called Pigman's Ferry, which is a stupid name but I got over it.
I did meet one fellow biker, a middle-aged fire fighter from Cumberland named Keith. He was very nice and informative about the trail, and immediately became protective as I told him about my solo status. He asked me if I would be staying at a "populated campsite" that night which I wasn't against doing, but I had planned to get further along the trail that day, past the busier campsite. So I was nonchalant and upbeat about staying alone at a site further up, and maybe that won him over. Keith took this picture of me and sent it to me over email:
Keith gave me good advice to continue after the C & O to the Allegheny Highlands Trail which is a recently almost-completed rail trail from Cumberland, MD to Pittsburgh, PA. So FYI, you can bike all the way from DC to Pittsburgh on bike trails! I had already decided to get on the Allegheny based on Nick's (my sister's husband) recommendation and ride on it from Cumberland to Frostburg. Keith convinced me to continue on a little longer and since I needed to be a little further north in order to be parallel with Columbus, OH, I stayed on for about 100 miles. He also told me West Virginia was "hilly. VERY hilly" and that was all the pressure I needed to stay on a flat rail trail.
This is picturesque Cumberland, MD:
Though of course, it wasn't all flat as I found out on Day 4. The first 22 miles of the Allegheny trail rises in elevation from around 600 feet above sea level in Cumberland to over 2000 feet at the eastern continental divide. The first 16 miles to Frostburg, MD are the worst. I started along easy enough, and it LOOKED flat...but my bike computer told me I was going about 6 miles an hour, when I usually go 10-15. I thought, am I that tired? Under-fed? Dehydrated? Is my chain too dry? No--I was just going uphill for 16 miles. I had to stop to rest every half mile or mile; I went through 2 full bottles of water just on those 16 miles (there was also no tree cover so the sun beats down on you the whole time); and basically had to treat the total 30 miles I had done that day like the normal 60 miles I was doing on the canal path.
But Frostburg was a great destination. I stayed overnight at a little hotel at the top of the hill near the train depot, right off the trail. The owners were super nice and though they hadn't finished building and renovating the campsite next to the hotel, they let me pitch my tent for free and take a shower in one of their guest rooms for $7.50. The town of Frostburg caters mainly to the college students at Frostburg State...a tattoo parlor, a bike shop, a bunch of bars and pool halls. I pretty much stuck to my campsite. I was a little put off by the guy at the bike shop who wasn't sufficiently impressed by the fact that I had just completed the C & O in three days and had made it up that steep incline to Frostburg. This is me after I finished the C & O:
Tunnels
I passed through a number of tunnels on the C & O and Allegheny trails ranging from slightly disturbing to freakishly frightening. By far the most frightening was the PawPaw Tunnel on the C & O. It's over 1800 feet long and feels like you're in there for an eternity--no light, no sound but that of water dripping from the ceiling...It smells like clay inside and the temperature cools down substantially, which was its one redeeming quality. I used my headlamp and could literally only see the few feet in front of me where the beam of light hit the path. I felt like I was riding faster than I ever had rode before and I don't think I blinked until I left the tunnel behind me. Here's PawPaw before I went in:
The subsequent tunnels were not as long and I think it was the Big Savage Tunnel on the Allegheny trail that had dim lights built into the ceiling that made everything relatively visible.
One old train tunnel on the Allegheny had been closed and the trail...blazers, I guess they're called, created a detour around the tunnel. This was by far the most beautiful part of that trail. Much more wild and rugged than the rest of it and closed in by huge trees.
One thing I decided was that I couldn't sleep at a campsite anywhere near an old canal lockhouse. Any creepy historical building nearby I knew would scare me silly that night so I ended up staying in a nice open field at a campsite called Pigman's Ferry, which is a stupid name but I got over it.I did meet one fellow biker, a middle-aged fire fighter from Cumberland named Keith. He was very nice and informative about the trail, and immediately became protective as I told him about my solo status. He asked me if I would be staying at a "populated campsite" that night which I wasn't against doing, but I had planned to get further along the trail that day, past the busier campsite. So I was nonchalant and upbeat about staying alone at a site further up, and maybe that won him over. Keith took this picture of me and sent it to me over email:
Keith gave me good advice to continue after the C & O to the Allegheny Highlands Trail which is a recently almost-completed rail trail from Cumberland, MD to Pittsburgh, PA. So FYI, you can bike all the way from DC to Pittsburgh on bike trails! I had already decided to get on the Allegheny based on Nick's (my sister's husband) recommendation and ride on it from Cumberland to Frostburg. Keith convinced me to continue on a little longer and since I needed to be a little further north in order to be parallel with Columbus, OH, I stayed on for about 100 miles. He also told me West Virginia was "hilly. VERY hilly" and that was all the pressure I needed to stay on a flat rail trail.
This is picturesque Cumberland, MD:
Though of course, it wasn't all flat as I found out on Day 4. The first 22 miles of the Allegheny trail rises in elevation from around 600 feet above sea level in Cumberland to over 2000 feet at the eastern continental divide. The first 16 miles to Frostburg, MD are the worst. I started along easy enough, and it LOOKED flat...but my bike computer told me I was going about 6 miles an hour, when I usually go 10-15. I thought, am I that tired? Under-fed? Dehydrated? Is my chain too dry? No--I was just going uphill for 16 miles. I had to stop to rest every half mile or mile; I went through 2 full bottles of water just on those 16 miles (there was also no tree cover so the sun beats down on you the whole time); and basically had to treat the total 30 miles I had done that day like the normal 60 miles I was doing on the canal path.
But Frostburg was a great destination. I stayed overnight at a little hotel at the top of the hill near the train depot, right off the trail. The owners were super nice and though they hadn't finished building and renovating the campsite next to the hotel, they let me pitch my tent for free and take a shower in one of their guest rooms for $7.50. The town of Frostburg caters mainly to the college students at Frostburg State...a tattoo parlor, a bike shop, a bunch of bars and pool halls. I pretty much stuck to my campsite. I was a little put off by the guy at the bike shop who wasn't sufficiently impressed by the fact that I had just completed the C & O in three days and had made it up that steep incline to Frostburg. This is me after I finished the C & O:
Tunnels
I passed through a number of tunnels on the C & O and Allegheny trails ranging from slightly disturbing to freakishly frightening. By far the most frightening was the PawPaw Tunnel on the C & O. It's over 1800 feet long and feels like you're in there for an eternity--no light, no sound but that of water dripping from the ceiling...It smells like clay inside and the temperature cools down substantially, which was its one redeeming quality. I used my headlamp and could literally only see the few feet in front of me where the beam of light hit the path. I felt like I was riding faster than I ever had rode before and I don't think I blinked until I left the tunnel behind me. Here's PawPaw before I went in:
The subsequent tunnels were not as long and I think it was the Big Savage Tunnel on the Allegheny trail that had dim lights built into the ceiling that made everything relatively visible.
One old train tunnel on the Allegheny had been closed and the trail...blazers, I guess they're called, created a detour around the tunnel. This was by far the most beautiful part of that trail. Much more wild and rugged than the rest of it and closed in by huge trees.
The Second Day
The whole crew headed back to DC on the second day after recording a farewell voice message on my fancy digital voice recorder and showering me with hugs. Meredith and Adam joined me for the first 20 or so miles that day which was great to not be left completely alone after having been with some of my favorite pals the whole day before. When they had to head back to Harper's Ferry we recorded a dramatic parting scene on Adam's camera which I'm sure will be put online sooner or later of me riding off into the distance and Meredith desperately trying to come to terms with our separation. I learned later that they had their own adventure on the way home including a flat bike tire and melted inner tubes (feel free to post that story!!) I on the other hand had smooth sailing to my first night destination--a hiker/biker campsite on the C & O.
The Ghost of the Old Hitch-Hiker
Now, you may think I am such a brave person to be going on this bike trip all by myself--and indeed, I am. That does not mean however that I can escape my true fears when I'm all by myself, at night, completely, utterly alone in the pitch black in a tent in the middle of the woods. But I am not afraid of potentially real things however, being murdered, being robbed...
I went to sleep before it got dark that first night, sensibly. I awoke in the middle of the night, 3 am or so, and immediately began to freak myself out by thinking of the scariest thing I could imagine: the ghost of the old hitchhiker. That to me is the epitome of scary. Some old drifter coming up to my tent on the towpath while I lay innocently sleeping. Just writing about this gives me the willies.
But it also is a great defense mechanism because honestly, where do I come up with this stuff? From those stupid Scary Stories and Scary Stories II books I used to freak myself out with as a kid--the one about the hook or the dismembered hand in the closet or however it goes. Upon further reflection the archetype of the old hitchhiker is pretty hilarious rather than scary.
Since that first night I have only thought about the old hitchhiker in the daytime and haven't freaked myself out at night since.
Dirty Socks
I'm sharing some personal information, not my own, in order to get a laugh from my audience so sorry Gina. Once Gina thought it might be a good idea to not wash her hair anymore and let her hair go through it's own natural process of taking care of itself. The thing was that she would have to have disgusting, oily hair for like 6 weeks before nature would kick in and take care of business. Phil, her soon to be hubbie, told her her hair would look like "dirty socks" if she went through with this plan. I thought of this on my second night on the road when my hair appeared to be forming dreadlocks from not having washed it for two days, not combing it, and wearing a helmet all day. In fact, I didn't wash my hair until I got to Frostburg about 2 days later and I could see what Phil meant.
Self Awareness in Animals
This weirds me out. Have you ever thought about animals understanding their own existence? I swear to God these horses totally stared me down my third day on the C & O. I was on some country roads following a detour from the towpath. I stopped for a break in front of a farm and these two horses appeared out of nowhere at the top of the hill and stared at me until I left.
Later, geese hissed at me, and these kamakazi squirrels kept running right in front of my front tire. I think groundhogs are the most self aware, and bunny rabbits are the least self aware. I base my opinion on the fact that groundhogs hear you coming down the trail and 50 feet in front of you scurry out of the way. Bunnies (the cutest word in the world, btw) on the other hand turn right, turn left, freak out, obviously can't see or hear a thing, and barely escape your tires as you pass.
The Ghost of the Old Hitch-Hiker
Now, you may think I am such a brave person to be going on this bike trip all by myself--and indeed, I am. That does not mean however that I can escape my true fears when I'm all by myself, at night, completely, utterly alone in the pitch black in a tent in the middle of the woods. But I am not afraid of potentially real things however, being murdered, being robbed...
I went to sleep before it got dark that first night, sensibly. I awoke in the middle of the night, 3 am or so, and immediately began to freak myself out by thinking of the scariest thing I could imagine: the ghost of the old hitchhiker. That to me is the epitome of scary. Some old drifter coming up to my tent on the towpath while I lay innocently sleeping. Just writing about this gives me the willies.
But it also is a great defense mechanism because honestly, where do I come up with this stuff? From those stupid Scary Stories and Scary Stories II books I used to freak myself out with as a kid--the one about the hook or the dismembered hand in the closet or however it goes. Upon further reflection the archetype of the old hitchhiker is pretty hilarious rather than scary.
Since that first night I have only thought about the old hitchhiker in the daytime and haven't freaked myself out at night since.
Dirty Socks
I'm sharing some personal information, not my own, in order to get a laugh from my audience so sorry Gina. Once Gina thought it might be a good idea to not wash her hair anymore and let her hair go through it's own natural process of taking care of itself. The thing was that she would have to have disgusting, oily hair for like 6 weeks before nature would kick in and take care of business. Phil, her soon to be hubbie, told her her hair would look like "dirty socks" if she went through with this plan. I thought of this on my second night on the road when my hair appeared to be forming dreadlocks from not having washed it for two days, not combing it, and wearing a helmet all day. In fact, I didn't wash my hair until I got to Frostburg about 2 days later and I could see what Phil meant.
Self Awareness in Animals
This weirds me out. Have you ever thought about animals understanding their own existence? I swear to God these horses totally stared me down my third day on the C & O. I was on some country roads following a detour from the towpath. I stopped for a break in front of a farm and these two horses appeared out of nowhere at the top of the hill and stared at me until I left.
Later, geese hissed at me, and these kamakazi squirrels kept running right in front of my front tire. I think groundhogs are the most self aware, and bunny rabbits are the least self aware. I base my opinion on the fact that groundhogs hear you coming down the trail and 50 feet in front of you scurry out of the way. Bunnies (the cutest word in the world, btw) on the other hand turn right, turn left, freak out, obviously can't see or hear a thing, and barely escape your tires as you pass.
Starting at the Beginning-May 27
I spent some time today between writing my introduction and now trying to figure out how to organize my thoughts...First I think it's important to say that writing things down each night has been extremely important for me. It gets me over any homesick blues I'm feeling because I know that eventually I'll be sharing these thoughts with someone and so I feel connected. And I think I have to just start at the beginning...
The first day of the trip I was joined by my entourage, a mix of family and friends--Kat, Loren, Scott, Lauren, Heather, Helen, and Nick--and we rode all the way to Harper's Ferry, WV. Here's a picture I like of me and my roommates:
We took a pit stop with my parents at the Sterling Unitarian Universalist Church and had a wonderful lunch prepared by mom, including the blueberry muffins (with lemon topping) I requested. We split evenly into two camps of those who prefer blueberry muffins with lemon topping and those who prefer them without. In honor of my grandma, who raged in the kitchen, and her muffin legacy, I prefer with lemon.
Here's a rather small picture of me and my mom and dad:
Leaving Sterling we headed northwest through downtown Leesburg, VA and into White's Ferry where two very disgruntled and most certainly dehydrated men operated the ferry that took us across the Potomac River. In Leesburg we passed Rolling Thunder bikers (motorcycles) and tried to show biker solidarity with them, but they were unresponsive. Nick commented on the contrast of us skinny road bikers and the quote "morbidly obese" Rolling Thunder bikers. More on this theme later.
White's Ferry was nice... Scott and Loren showed their manly spirit and swam across the Potomac as we watched from the ferry. Then we got on the C & O towpath along the Potomac and canal which took us the whole way to Harper's Ferry. The adventure had only begun when we rolled into town and met up with Meredith and Adam who had ordered us 5 large pizzas which we all ate ravenously followed by soft serve ice cream. The pineapple pizza was my favorite, as you can see here:
Then we had to find a place to sleep. It was getting dark, we couldn't carry all our sleeping bags and tents and such on our bikes to the remote camping site along the towpath so we had to find a place nearby that Adam and Meredith could drive to. Helen saved the day by 411-ing the Harper's Ferry hostel and getting slightly helpful directions. Adam and Meredith and Heather drove to the hostel while the rest of us set back out on the C & O in the dark to find the path that would lead us to the hostel. I think two of us had lights on our bikes. So at 9 or 10 at night we were on the towpath searching for the hostel turnoff. After about 2 or 3 miles we found a map that was barely useful on the trail. Just as Loren had called the hostel again and gotten better directions, a park ranger drove up to us on the path, and quite casually as I recall, asked us if we were lost. Between him and Loren we made it to the right place, pulled our bikes up a rocky incline, over the train tracks, and up a hill made only steeper by the fact that we had biked 60 miles that day and it was pitch black outside.
The hostel was a great place to stay the night, among Boy Scouts and some Appalachian Trail hikers. We got showers and Kat told true horror stories that made us all sleep easy. An auspicious beginning.
Here's the group sans Helen and Nick, who left a little early. Can you find the differences between these two pictures?
The first day of the trip I was joined by my entourage, a mix of family and friends--Kat, Loren, Scott, Lauren, Heather, Helen, and Nick--and we rode all the way to Harper's Ferry, WV. Here's a picture I like of me and my roommates:
We took a pit stop with my parents at the Sterling Unitarian Universalist Church and had a wonderful lunch prepared by mom, including the blueberry muffins (with lemon topping) I requested. We split evenly into two camps of those who prefer blueberry muffins with lemon topping and those who prefer them without. In honor of my grandma, who raged in the kitchen, and her muffin legacy, I prefer with lemon.
Here's a rather small picture of me and my mom and dad:
Leaving Sterling we headed northwest through downtown Leesburg, VA and into White's Ferry where two very disgruntled and most certainly dehydrated men operated the ferry that took us across the Potomac River. In Leesburg we passed Rolling Thunder bikers (motorcycles) and tried to show biker solidarity with them, but they were unresponsive. Nick commented on the contrast of us skinny road bikers and the quote "morbidly obese" Rolling Thunder bikers. More on this theme later.
White's Ferry was nice... Scott and Loren showed their manly spirit and swam across the Potomac as we watched from the ferry. Then we got on the C & O towpath along the Potomac and canal which took us the whole way to Harper's Ferry. The adventure had only begun when we rolled into town and met up with Meredith and Adam who had ordered us 5 large pizzas which we all ate ravenously followed by soft serve ice cream. The pineapple pizza was my favorite, as you can see here:
Then we had to find a place to sleep. It was getting dark, we couldn't carry all our sleeping bags and tents and such on our bikes to the remote camping site along the towpath so we had to find a place nearby that Adam and Meredith could drive to. Helen saved the day by 411-ing the Harper's Ferry hostel and getting slightly helpful directions. Adam and Meredith and Heather drove to the hostel while the rest of us set back out on the C & O in the dark to find the path that would lead us to the hostel. I think two of us had lights on our bikes. So at 9 or 10 at night we were on the towpath searching for the hostel turnoff. After about 2 or 3 miles we found a map that was barely useful on the trail. Just as Loren had called the hostel again and gotten better directions, a park ranger drove up to us on the path, and quite casually as I recall, asked us if we were lost. Between him and Loren we made it to the right place, pulled our bikes up a rocky incline, over the train tracks, and up a hill made only steeper by the fact that we had biked 60 miles that day and it was pitch black outside.The hostel was a great place to stay the night, among Boy Scouts and some Appalachian Trail hikers. We got showers and Kat told true horror stories that made us all sleep easy. An auspicious beginning.
Here's the group sans Helen and Nick, who left a little early. Can you find the differences between these two pictures?
The Blog begins
I am blogging. I have spent most of my adult life trying to avoid blogs, and now I am one of them. This is my self-conscious disclaimer. But it will be fun. I spend 60% of my time on the road thinking of jokes I want to tell my friends through this blog. I wanted to call it "Lose weight eating 10,000 calories a day! Ask me how!" but that title wouldn't fit. I chose "Ragin Grannie's Gear" based on a conversation I had with my roommate Scott the day I left on this trip. He was looking over my bike and said, "Oh good, you have a granny gear." I, offended, enraged, responded, "I hate that term! It's important to have a low gear when you're on a cross country trip--it's for mountains! I'm going over mountains!" "Yeah, yeah" Scott replied, "that's what I mean. Grannies are always going over mountains, that's why it's called the granny gear. Those grannies are out there, hitting all the mountains." I use my beloved mountain gear all the time, and I have seen some grannies out here too. And they're ragin.
This is my account of one crazy summer I spent biking almost across country. I hope you enjoy the stories I'll be telling. I think they're funny-ish and interesting-ish but mainly it's some simple stuff: meeting nice people, eating deliciously heavy food, not bathing for days on end, illegally camping, staying in seedy motels and watching HBO, and exercising all day but not considering it exercising. This will not be my last long bike trip, I am sure of it, but since it's my first it deserves some special attention.
So blogging means that you (meaning you out there) can respond, right? Please do! I sent out my first email a week ago and got so many wonderful responses from the people I love, it was really a great gift. But act fast because I'm already in Ohio and this trip only lasts until the end of July. I'll try to keep this updated as much as possible.
This is my account of one crazy summer I spent biking almost across country. I hope you enjoy the stories I'll be telling. I think they're funny-ish and interesting-ish but mainly it's some simple stuff: meeting nice people, eating deliciously heavy food, not bathing for days on end, illegally camping, staying in seedy motels and watching HBO, and exercising all day but not considering it exercising. This will not be my last long bike trip, I am sure of it, but since it's my first it deserves some special attention.
So blogging means that you (meaning you out there) can respond, right? Please do! I sent out my first email a week ago and got so many wonderful responses from the people I love, it was really a great gift. But act fast because I'm already in Ohio and this trip only lasts until the end of July. I'll try to keep this updated as much as possible.
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