<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206</id><updated>2011-08-01T10:51:12.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The SPS Cyclists: Across the United States</title><subtitle type='html'>Seven St. Paul's students cycling across the United States in an effort to raise funds and awareness for the Jimmy Fund at the Dana Farber Cancer Institute.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>71</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-2541444707028450330</id><published>2009-09-10T14:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T14:09:21.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey&lt;br /&gt;This guy contacted me about a bike ride for charity. If you want to check it out, here is the website:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.rodmanrideforkids.org.!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-2541444707028450330?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/2541444707028450330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/09/hey-this-guy-contacted-me-about-bike.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2541444707028450330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2541444707028450330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/09/hey-this-guy-contacted-me-about-bike.html' title=''/><author><name>ellen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02107986574668875934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3767393507833364287</id><published>2009-08-04T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T15:52:50.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finish</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sni7uBOE8rI/AAAAAAAAADk/EGNmWssL6sw/s1600-h/L1030902.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sni7uBOE8rI/AAAAAAAAADk/EGNmWssL6sw/s320/L1030902.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366245355287802546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3767393507833364287?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3767393507833364287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/08/finish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3767393507833364287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3767393507833364287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/08/finish.html' title='Finish'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sni7uBOE8rI/AAAAAAAAADk/EGNmWssL6sw/s72-c/L1030902.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3183001286680448542</id><published>2009-08-04T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T12:09:13.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fairfield, CT</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;Well, it’s been a week and a half since the eight SPS Cyclists proudly made their way down Black Point Road to the Prout’s Neck Yacht Club, where with unbridled shouts of joy, we plunged our bodies in the frigid waters of the Atlantic Ocean, concluding our journey. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;Now, I’ve tried to procrastinate for the past ten days and do essentially nothing. I’ve even taken to replying back to people who leave posts on my Facebook Wall (the rarest of occasions for me), and have begun rereading select Harry Potter books again (so that the next time I play Ellen and Ellie in “Harry Potter” 20 Questions, I won’t be completely steamrolled). &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;But there comes a day when you have to return to reality. It’s time for me to process my thoughts on our trip and tie up all the loose ends, starting with this blog post. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;At the beginning, when people asked me why I decided to go on this bike trip, I gave them a really shallow answer. As many of the other Cyclists jokingly remind me, my short bio for our brochure started off with, “I’ve always been into anything extreme. And quite simply, I don’t see how anything can get more extreme than a 3,000 – mile bike trip.” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;Although I sound like a thrill-junkie, that’s the initial reason why I went on this trip. For the excitement,for the sights, for the gratification of pushing my body to its physical limit. I wanted to ride across the country to quench my drive to accomplish bigger and better things. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;During the first few days, I did push myself. Brendon and I would bike as hard as &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:normal"&gt; could (I’m sure Brendon could have blown past me if he wanted to), and we would frequently become separated from the rest of the group. It wasn’t until the third day of biking that I realized that my mindset was helping me as an individual, but not the team as a whole. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;Brendon was the one who figured it out. We had started out from the Mazama, Washington, and had about thirty miles of flat road until we began our first climb of the day. So the group decided to draft for the first time. With Brendon in the lead, we clocked in some of the fastest speeds I had experienced. It was incredible. Then Gwen fell. She bumped tires with Brendon, who was right in front of her, and hit the ground hard. While the three doctors who were with us that week tended to Gwen’s scrapes and bruises, Brendon said to no one in particular, “I’m gonna stay with you guys today. I like this pace. And I like helping out the whole group.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;For the prior two days, I hadn’t even considered that by staying with everyone else and contributing to the entire team, I could help to unite us all and also fulfill my own desires. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;From that moment on, I tried to focus all of my energy into helping us work as a cohesive unit. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;In the beginning, this refocusing brought me more hardship than joy. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;On the flat plains of Montana, I frequently received a lot of constructive criticism when I led our pace line. It didn’t come that naturally to me. More often than not, I would try to gain speed too quickly, leaving a massive gap behind me. Or I wouldn’t point out a patch of gravel in the road, leaving my comrades to have to make mad swerves around the obstacle. For weeks, I heard from my exasperated friends, “Parker, can you please not speed up so quickly? You need to bike faster more gradually” or “Parker, slow down!” or “Parker, you need to call out the holes in the road!”. I’ll be the first one to admit that I was a terrible pace-liner. But what was really tough was that I put so much energy into trying to support all my teammates, and yet seemed much more of a hindrance than help. What was worse was that it didn’t seem like my overall skills were improving. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;I’m happy to say that the criticism gradually faded away. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;From experiences like that, I learned what it means to work on a real team. Although receiving such constant feedback about what I could do better was sometimes aggravating, I had to remind myself that it was supposed to be beneficial. That’s what good teams do: they push each other relentlessly to bring out the best in each other. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;I was still using the bike trip as a way to challenge myself physically and mentally however. I remained much too focused on my own personal goals. The fact that we were riding across the country to help kids with cancer didn’t mean as much as it should. That all changed on one rainy morning in Montana. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;As soon as we hit the road out of Gildford, we knew that we were in for a rough morning of biking. We had experienced rain everyday, but it had never come down as hard as this. My sunglasses soon became rain-splattered and foggy. Despite the extra layer of my raincoat, all of my clothes were soaked. And the rain just kept on coming. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;During our morning leg, I found myself cycling side-by-side with Mark Richardson. “How you holding up Parker?” he asked jovially. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;“Not too bad,” I replied, “the rain’s kinda tough though.” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;“Yeah,” he said, “but you know what I just thought of? I was thinking about how much a kid being treated at Dana-Farber would prefer to be here rather than there.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;“Whoa,” I said, surprised by his insight, “I’m sure you’re right.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;Before Mark’s words could really sink in, a voice from the front of our group called out, “Grayson, get up here!” It was Renzo telling me to come up and hang out with him. Instantly I sped up to my tent-buddy, who shouted at me, “Dude, how epic is this? We look so badass right now!” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;I had to agree with him. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;“Dude, you know what I’m feeling right now?” I yelled.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;“What?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;“Spaceman!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;With that, we launched into a rendition of “Spaceman” by the Killers. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;As we were belting out the chorus, I couldn’t help but think about Mark’s words. There were some kids at Dana-Farber who had never known what it was like to go on a bike ride with your best friends. They had never felt the cold, but refreshing drops of rain on their faces as they sang until their faces turned blue. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I really hope that after all of this, the money we’ve raised ensures that one kid can have the same life-lasting experience I had that gray morning. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;Even though I started to come to these realizations, I still felt that I was missing something. I thought a lot about what that might be on this bike trip. In fact I spent hours fretting over it. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;In the end, I’m happy to say that I found what I was looking for. The trigger came in a discussion I had with my dad while walking along the Mississippi River in Little Falls, Minnesota one evening. Dad was describing the small-town environment that he had been brought up in, not unlike the town we were walking through. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;"You know, Dad, I'm really glad about the way I've been brought up." &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;"What do you mean?" my dad asked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;"Well, we don't have everything that a lot of our friends do, but we have something more basic."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;It hit me. What was missing was that somehow over the last couple of year I had forgotten I am.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I’m the guy with the small-town values. I’m open-minded, hardworking, and kind.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Cycling through small communities for seven weeks made me realize that the close friendships I had formed with the other Cyclists were not so different from those that held these rural towns together.  I’ve resolved to go back to St. Paul’s and live my life by these new insights. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;From now on, I vow to be a real small-town guy. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;Last night, before I shut down my computer, I played a cover of the song the “Two of Us” by the Beatles. Biddle had played it for us on his iPhone to wake us up after our rest day in Niagara Falls. I sat down in one of kitchen chairs, and I thought about this amazing journey. I remember it being really turbulent, filled with highs and lows. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;But there is only one image that came to mind when I thought about this entire trip. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;It was the seven beaming smiles of Ellie, Renzo, Ellen, Brendon, Sarah, Gwen, and Mark at the end of the trip. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3183001286680448542?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3183001286680448542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/08/fairfield-ct.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3183001286680448542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3183001286680448542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/08/fairfield-ct.html' title='Fairfield, CT'/><author><name>Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10889747219626834526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-2006465148844594509</id><published>2009-08-01T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T12:49:51.505-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dartmouth, MA</title><content type='html'>After spending a week in Maine, I'm back home now for the first time in a while. Everywhere I look, I remember myself first packing for the bike trip, excited, nervous, and very eager. It was a mix of emotions going through my head then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even now, I have a lot of different final thoughts about the trip. First of all, I'm constantly reminded of the whole experience. Sometimes, it's as simple as the way someone says something that triggers a flashback. We really enjoyed ourselves on the trip. There's no doubt about it. Everywhere I go now, I have a story to tell, and a pretty great one at that. I have the cyclists to mostly thank for that. They made the experience especially memorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really missing you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's really important though to remember what truly came out of this journey. Sure, there are a lot of great memories and an awesome sense of accomplishment, but reaching our finish line means more than just that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's our fundraising goal of $100,000 that really stands out to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We reached it, and when I say "we", I'm referring to so many people. Not only the cyclists, but also our families, our communities, and our friends all across the country. Throughout this trip, there were countless supporters that helped out for no reason other than that of their own selflessness and generosity. They came in all shapes and forms, from the cyclists' own parents to the people that donated right out of their pockets when they heard about our cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admire these supporters so much. Along with us, they held strong in the belief that together we can all make a difference. In our early fundraising brochure, I remember talking about bringing about change through a determined effort. That is what I am most going to remember about this trip. It was more than just a bicycle ride. It was a collection of people coming together to fight cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came back home to hear some bad news. I realize now more than ever that every day around the world people get bad news. It's tough for all of us. Through this bike trip, I want people to see that it &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; possible to make such a big difference. Anybody can do what we did, whether it's biking, or something completely different. I know this isn't over for me. I'm already looking forward to the next similar fundraiser I can become a part of, and I encourage everyone who's reading this to do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very grateful to all of the people that were a part of this trip. We did it everyone! We really made a difference. It's now that our fundraising goal becomes more than just a number. It becomes a sign that people are willing to help. I've seen people who struggle to pay their own bills give us donations. I won't ever forget that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're not going to stop talking about this trip anytime soon. I know &lt;em&gt;I'll &lt;/em&gt;reminisce like crazy. Let us all just remember the good that came from this undertaking, and that amidst all of the bad news, through a determined effort, together, we can bring good news.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-2006465148844594509?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/2006465148844594509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/08/after-spending-week-in-maine-im-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2006465148844594509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2006465148844594509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/08/after-spending-week-in-maine-im-back.html' title='Dartmouth, MA'/><author><name>Renzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17394389257591632491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-2306460408152782718</id><published>2009-07-31T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T21:58:07.937-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thetford, VT</title><content type='html'>So I was just sitting in bed, waiting for Biddle's movie to load, checking facebook, email, the usual when I realized: it has been exactly one week since it all ended. It wasn't so much a realization about the length in time - I mean it feels like about one week has passed. I guess it was more that I am now quantifying time from the end of the trip instead of the beginning. During the trip, we would measure our distance by how many weeks it had been - four weeks meant four parent rotations which meant 2/3 of the way done and still over 1000 miles to go - that sort of thing. But now its been one week from the end...what does that mean. As far as I know, it means I am at home, without somewhere to get to tomorrow, and without all my friends.&lt;br /&gt;When I realized all of this, I got what Renzo would call a 'bikers low'. This usually happened (for me at least) when I looked down at my odometer and realized that we still had 30 miles to go until our first snack, not to mention another 70 after that. But as Gwen likes to say, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.&lt;br /&gt;Usually when I ask 'what's tomorrow looking like?', someone either smiles and and proclaims 'short!' or groans and replies '100 and some miles...uphill!'. But now the answers have changed - they seem to all morph into some form of 'rainy. You really need to clean your room'. Each day isn't unique anymore. Everyday is turning into every other, running into the day before it; so I have just stopped asking. I can probably recount every single day of our six week trip - where we stayed, where the wind came from, what we had for dinner, etc. But of the past week, about all I could tell you was that I went to a soccer game at some point and had an eye appointment a couple of days ago. I know it sounds really lame and cheesy but we really did live every day to the fullest. Every single day had ups and downs, good meals and maple sticks, hail storms and sunscreen, songs and grumpy faces, and each of those things made each day real and worth remembering. I think a good sign of an amazing experience is when you refuse to forget any details, when you go over it again and again in your mind, when you write everything down and take a million pictures.&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I am trying to say is that this trip has been truly unforgettable. And I don't know about you guys, but I am still not quite sure how we made it. Thanks to everyone who played any sort of role in our trip, from the person who put up with us camping next to them to the riders themselves, you made the trip what it was and I would never have it any other way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-2306460408152782718?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/2306460408152782718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-week-later.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2306460408152782718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2306460408152782718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-week-later.html' title='Thetford, VT'/><author><name>ellen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02107986574668875934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-4367067358452477274</id><published>2009-07-31T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T13:06:32.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Video</title><content type='html'>My dad took a lot of video in the two weeks he was on the trip with us, and he made a short, 18 minute video that he put on Youtube. It's divided into two parts. Here's the link:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Part 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wW6pSVdmDUE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 2:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYjZl-eOMRk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-4367067358452477274?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/4367067358452477274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/video.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/4367067358452477274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/4367067358452477274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/video.html' title='Video'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3200866125473353472</id><published>2009-07-29T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T12:10:21.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jay's Poem</title><content type='html'>Yet another way that Jay shared his knowledge with us: a poem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;JAY SPEAKMAN&lt;br /&gt;7/24/2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OUT OF THE WEST RODE THE SEVEN&lt;br /&gt;A heroic poem of the road&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Representing St. Paul’s School&lt;br /&gt;seven young riders came,&lt;br /&gt;on skinny tires, coast-to-coast&lt;br /&gt;from Washington to Maine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By blue highway and country lane&lt;br /&gt;on seven silver steeds,&lt;br /&gt;the seven fearless riders rode&lt;br /&gt;to help their friends in need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From Renzo’s fall the first day out&lt;br /&gt;to hailstorms and trucks,&lt;br /&gt;you ask this group what pulled them through,&lt;br /&gt;they’ll likely tell you...”mostly luck”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if each rider were perchance&lt;br /&gt;to wax more philosophic,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll venture here’s what each might say&lt;br /&gt;on this most important topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie’d tell you, “made-up songs”,&lt;br /&gt;while Gwen would say “good cheer”.&lt;br /&gt;Sara’d pick “camaraderie”,&lt;br /&gt;for Ellen, “tears and eighteen gears”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Renzo, clearly “corazon”,&lt;br /&gt;for Brendon, “attitude”,&lt;br /&gt;but ask young Parker what spurred him on,&lt;br /&gt;undoubtedly, he’d say: ”food!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3200866125473353472?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3200866125473353472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/jays-poem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3200866125473353472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3200866125473353472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/jays-poem.html' title='Jay&apos;s Poem'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3339148832274323869</id><published>2009-07-29T12:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T12:03:54.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stowe, VT</title><content type='html'>Today I had my first normal day of summer. I woke up late, wandered downstairs, and made myself a plate of scrambled eggs. I lay in the sun, jumped in the cold water, and ran out, shivering, to my towel. I read my book, took a shower, and thought to myself, “for the rest of the summer, I have a rest day EVERY day!” But then I realized, rest days aren’t that cool when I’m not on the bike trip. When I can’t wake up to Ellen’s funny sleep-noises, or spend the day doing piles and piles of laundry. Just like anything, rest days aren’t fun when they are a daily occurrence, when not followed by a day of one hundred uphill miles. I often got laughed at as “the complainer”, and I’ll admit, I am one of the most skilled whiners I have ever known. But when it comes down to it, I enjoyed the last two months more than most anything I have ever done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to say a quick thank you to everyone that was involved in the trip.&lt;br /&gt;To all of the parents- who have worked tirelessly with us since October to get us going, and dedicated their summers to being the backbone of our trip. You are all awesome- every week was a treat and it was great getting to know all of you.&lt;br /&gt;To Mark Richardson- who led us fearlessly for seven weeks, and became a great friend to each of us in the process.&lt;br /&gt;To the Parkhurst family- who opened up their home to us, and our family and friends, so that we could have a perfect finale to our epic journey. Thank you so much for letting us into your beautiful home and being such generous hosts.&lt;br /&gt;To Tish Lynn, my wonderful aunt- who worked diligently to get in touch with all of the newspapers along the way and generated a lot of great press for us, making it possible for us to reach (and exceed) our goal of $100,000.&lt;br /&gt;To everyone who we met along the way- thank you so much. I have never seen such generosity as I did in the past two months. Thank you, also, for sharing your sad, touching, and often uplifting stories with us about cancer. After meeting countless people affected by cancer, it is so clear to me that we fundraised for the right cause.&lt;br /&gt;And finally to the cyclists- you guys rock. I have incredible admiration for each of you, and cherish your friendships. I can’t wait to see you all (not Sarah… but you BETTER come visit!!) back at school. By the way, I wore a bathingsuit in public yesterday, tan lines revealed for the first time, and all I could think was how I wished you had all been there so I would have felt a little less awkward. Or at least we could have all felt awkward together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s been four days since we dipped our tires, and our entire bodies, into the icy, salty Atlantic Ocean in Prout’s Neck. I have spent these few days “recovering”, or basically just being lazy. I sleepily move from meal to meal, lounge on the couch, or graze through the kitchen of my aunt’s house in Maine, where I am staying for a few days. I dragged myself out of my stupor today to go for a run, and it literally drained every ounce of energy out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, I am not having the same restlessness problems that Gwen is apparently having. I was more than happy to climb into bed that first night on July 24th, and even happier to sleep past six o’clock the next morning. But when I crawl into bed at night, I find myself wishing I could turn around to find Sarah and Ellen in the bed opposite mine. When I eat a good meal, all I can think of is Renzo and Parker’s ongoing competition: who had the biggest appetite. I can hear Gwen’s voice in my head: trying to rap or singing some really bad Destiny’s Child song (say my name, say my name… when no one is arouuund). Or Brendon trying to find Renzo’s secret tickle spot, which he elatedly finally found on our last night in Raymond, Maine. It’s not the biking that I miss, as fun as it was, as much as the people. I can bike anywhere; the area around my house proved to be some of the most challenging and exhausting of the whole trip. But what I can’t find back in Stowe are the cyclists. I miss you all so much. Each of you guys made the trip for me: it wouldn’t have been nearly as fun or successful as it was if any one of you had not been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I think I’ve gone on long enough. A big thanks to you all. Sorry that this was so long, props to you if you read the whole thing. I guess we Dukes just have a lot to say…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cyclists, I await your phone calls. You know I’m always up for a good chat. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3339148832274323869?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3339148832274323869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/stowe-vt_29.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3339148832274323869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3339148832274323869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/stowe-vt_29.html' title='Stowe, VT'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-1806472230377235402</id><published>2009-07-26T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T18:46:41.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dartmouth, MA</title><content type='html'>After 45 days on the road, it's hard to believe that I slept in my own bed last night. The first few minutes of snuggling into my own sheets and covers I was in heaven: listening to the sounds of home through my open window, actually wearing pajamas, and having a real pillow. But fifteen mintes later I wasn't asleep, and, as cliche as it might sound, I felt a void.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about getting to Maine and arriving at home for almost seven weeks (it got me to the top of Washington Pass on day two, a day I will never forget), but what I forgot was how much I was going to miss the group dynamic, constant companionship, and being completely exhausted from the days activities. I  know that last one may sound a little weird, but there was nothing better than arriving at the campsite/church/hotel every night, knowing that you had just eaten away at part of the country and enlarged your thunder thighs. Although it was a little chaotic with constantly changing scenery, I loved the sense of adventure (admittantly it took a bit of time to grow accustomed to it) and accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What annoyed the group most in the beginning was my complaining about being left alone in the middle of nowhere with no cell phone, no map, and no one. I would demand that they had to wait for everyone at a turn to make sure no one was left behind (after a, what I thought, terrifying incident in Riverside) as the weeks progressed my hissy fits diminished and I was pretty confident that even if I lost the group I would still be able to find the camp site, or perhaps I just didn't feel the group would leave me in the dust anymore. But who knows whether it was trust or personal growth, I will take away a sense of independence from this trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another peice of me gained from this trip is the heightened ability to "go with the flow", as Parker would say. Constantly arriving in a foreign environment forced us to be able to expect the unexpected and think on our feet. Perhaps the post seated Upper commonroom won't seem so daunting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all I wouldn't have changed a thing about the trip. The people, the towns, and the lodging were unforgettable. The Elliphone during the pacelines which kept things entertaining, Sarah's explosions (completing her first century long before everybody else), Renzo's giggle which always seemed to pacify the situation, Parker's grab bag of phrases, Brendon's constant encouragement (even if it wasn't on purpose), and Ellen's ability to incorporate a game into every ride. This summer will live with me forever, and perhaps even the tan lines too. Thanks to everyone who was involved for the best seven weeks I have ever had.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-1806472230377235402?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/1806472230377235402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/dartmouth-ma.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1806472230377235402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1806472230377235402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/dartmouth-ma.html' title='Dartmouth, MA'/><author><name>Gwen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02000485934771541968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-8352852595217067249</id><published>2009-07-26T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T08:22:36.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prout's Neck, ME</title><content type='html'>WE MADE IT TO THE COAST!&lt;br /&gt;We arrived in Prout's Neck fashionably late (3:30) on Friday. The first thirty miles seemed top never end. It was raining and between all the cyclists, SEVEN flats occurred. However, once we could see the ocean and smell the salt, everything turned into a blur and we booked it to the sea. Simply put, it was amazing. We were all shouting and screaming for the last 5 miles. Upon arrival at the ocean, we ran down and without hesitation, jumped in. The water didn't even seem cold after everything that we went through on the trip. It was the most exciting and rewarding moment of our lives. The sense of accomplishment was huge and the amount of support from everyone only added to our elation. Seeing all our families, and people we had met along the way was awesome. After appropriate celebration, we were graciously hosted my the Parkhurst's at their home. It was great to talk about the trip and sort of debrief on the cross-country trek. Thank you all for following our blog. Sorry for the delay on the blog... After getting home for the first time in several weeks, we all just kicked back! The amount of support we have received on this trip from family, friends, and strangers has been unbelievable. We could not have made it without everyone's support. I thought I would leave the blog on a great note. Mrs. Stoner informed us on the beach of Prout's Neck after we had finished celebrating our arrival that we made it to the $100,000 mark. In fact, it will end up a bit over. This number is amazing. The fact that people are this giving in the this economic environment is great and we are so happy that we made it to our fundraising goal. Thank you so much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-8352852595217067249?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/8352852595217067249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/prouts-neck-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8352852595217067249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8352852595217067249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/prouts-neck-me.html' title='Prout&apos;s Neck, ME'/><author><name>Brendon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10071442712439748292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-2605380054966082658</id><published>2009-07-23T17:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T06:13:34.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Raymond, ME</title><content type='html'>Wow! It's hard to believe it, but we have only one day left. One forty-mile day. As I write this I'm sitting around Dave Brockett's (Mr. Brockett's brother) cozy, rustic living room at his camp on Crescent Lake. The whole group is here, and joining us for the night is SPS graduate Stu Lovejoy. And oh yeah, we're in Maine. Finally.&lt;br /&gt;Today's journey was a shorter ride than usual, only a mere seventy miles to Sarah's uncle's house. We began the day with an excellent breakfast of blueberry pancakes and bacon at Sarah's house, then embarked on our voyage of the day. We slowly rode through the first fifteen miles of the day, going back to memories of the trip and replaying them over again. At the fifteen-mile marker Mr. Brockett beckoned us off the road and told that we were in Maine! Finally, our voyage was officially coming to a finish. We got off our bikes and posed to take a photo of us forming an ME with our bodies at the border. Then the mosquitoes attacked! They had been lying in ambush, waiting for the unwitting cyclists to get off their bikes. They took full advantage of their unmoving prey, biting us on virtually every location on our bodies. "Take the picture!" we yelled to Mark Richardson, as the mosquitoes buzzed around us for Round Two of their feeding frenzy. Mark took our picture, and we sprinted back to our bikes, picked them up, and hastily continued on. That was our welcome to Maine.&lt;br /&gt;Another fifteen miles later, the group stopped for the rarest of occasions: second breakfast. As always, the extra meal hit the spot. The next forty miles were uneventful, save for Sarah getting a flat. Hey, if we didn't get one a day, we wouldn't be doing our job right. While Mr. Brockett quickly changed her tire, Sarah swatted the ever-present mosquitoes off of her dad and herself. The next event of the day came two miles away from the Brockett's camp. In front  of us  loomed a short, yet literally forty-five degree hill. Knowing that this was one of our last hills of the trip, we went at it with gusto, and arrived at the Brockett camp. There we were greeted by our two hosts for the night, Dave Brockett (Mr. Brockett's brother) and Dawn Brockett. They warmly welcomed us to their home and invited us to come take a dip in their lake. The water was cool and refreshing, and no sooner had we dried ourselves off than SPS graduate Stu Lovejoy, who was working at a nearby summer camp, stopped by. We had dinner with Stu, and talked for hours outside in front of the outdoor fire, roasting marshmallows and catching up on each other's stories. Soon enough though, the sun set and Stu had to go. And now we're inside, reminiscing about past adventures as we organize pictures for tomorrow's festivites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to think that we have only forty miles left. I never thought that we'd reach this point in time. We've been riding for so long now, that doing this day in and day out has become a way of life. It will be hard to revert back to the normalcy of the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we're all ready to be done though. It will be interesting to see how tomorrow's events play out in comparison to the millions of scenarios that we've all concocted in our minds while on the road. But no matter what happens, I'm sure that it will be a day that we will remember for the rest of our lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-2605380054966082658?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/2605380054966082658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/raymond-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2605380054966082658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2605380054966082658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/raymond-me.html' title='Raymond, ME'/><author><name>Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10889747219626834526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3083525946933824961</id><published>2009-07-22T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T18:21:04.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Randolph, NH</title><content type='html'>Hello from the Brocket's house and Randolph, NH! Today was a pretty challenging ride. The hardest part, especially for Ellie, was leaving the Dukes. We really enjoyed our stay at their home and are grateful for their hospitality to us all. As for the ride itself, it was one of the hillier days of the trip. The Green Mountains are really tricky in that as soon as you crest a hill, you go back down, and then back up, and back down... FOREVER! That is what made today a challenge. The day was also pretty long (100 miles) so that added to the fatigue. It was well worth it though because once we got to the Brockett's, we were greeted with a big dinner and a bunch of friendly faces at the town center. The town's people put on a dinner for us at the center and we got to talk about our bike trip with them. It was great to tell stories but also sad to realize the trip is coming to an end. As we reflected on our time in the Cascades, Rockies, Mississippi River, etc., a real sense of nostalgia overcame the group and we truly came to grasp how much ground we had covered. The dinner was awesome and we really enjoyed the generousity from the people of Randolph. Tomorrow is a much shorter and flatter day. Today was the last hard day of the trip.. Although these days were always hard, I know that in weeks, months, and years, we will remember days like today and feel a real sense of accomplishment. We are looking forward to seeing our families, friends, and supporters in Maine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      As for my month away from the group... I am not much for talking about myself but I will say that the rowing was a great experience and I sure learned a lot of new things about it. The blog was a frequent stop on my computer while at camp and the cyclists never left my mind. I love all the members of the bike trip and the cause that we are raising money for. I cannot put into words how happy I am to be back with my closest friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you in Maine,&lt;br /&gt;Brendon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3083525946933824961?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3083525946933824961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/randolph-nh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3083525946933824961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3083525946933824961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/randolph-nh.html' title='Randolph, NH'/><author><name>Brendon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10071442712439748292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-5200509615450524074</id><published>2009-07-22T03:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T03:36:19.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stowe, VT</title><content type='html'>We said goodbye to New York State this morning and hello to Vermont. The familiar landscape kept us going despite the hills, and having Brendon back in the pack made the first twenty miles to Bristol fly by. The only thing I will distinctly remember about this morning is the smell that burnt my nostrils as we headed by multiple cornfields. They must have just put down some new manure because the smell was inescapable, even as I covered my nose with my gloves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first snack lingered on for about 45 minutes, a little longer than usual, but soon we were heading up the app gap. The news camera crew continued on with us to take some action shots as we headed up the hill, and before we knew it the riders Biddle gathered from Stowe joined us for the arduous climb. The men which braved both sides of the gap were decked out in intimidating bike wear. For me, seeing Dick Drummond on the road was one of the most reassuring moments of this trip. He provided us with the bikes which we are riding and has been on the phone any time we've had a mechanical question we could not figure out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With our enlarged group we headed up the ten percent grade. Boy was it a climb. We made sure to stay in some type of pack which helped with the mental stamina. When we had about a half mile left you could see the top and the crowd of people waiting for us. For me that made it harder knowing exactly where I needed to get to, but on the other hand it was nice to have support. I felt that if I stopped I would not be able to get my momentum back up, and it would be the end, so we all kept on trekking until we reached the top. The ride down made it worth it, but the sharp turns made me hit the breaks hard. Twenty miles from the bottom we arrived at Ellie's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second we got to Ellie's house we jumped into the pond for a refreshing dip before some nice hot showers and delicious food. There was a whole crowd of people for dinner asking us tons of questions and providing great conversation, as always in the Duke household, but we're definitely ready for bed, even though it is not even eight. We're headed to Brockett's house tomorrow!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Gwen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Addendum by Ellie:&lt;br /&gt;Hello! I just wanted to say thank you SO MUCH to everyone that showed up to meet us while riding, in Waterbury, and at my house here in Stowe. It was amazing to see all of those familiar faces after weeks of strangers and new places. You guys are the best... and you represented Stowe very well. My friends have been so impressed by you all and really enjoyed spending time here in Stowe, even if it was only for a few hours. I can't wait to get home in a week and see you all again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-5200509615450524074?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/5200509615450524074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/stowe-vt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5200509615450524074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5200509615450524074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/stowe-vt.html' title='Stowe, VT'/><author><name>Gwen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02000485934771541968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3430235565629150793</id><published>2009-07-22T03:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T03:26:42.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Port Henry, NY</title><content type='html'>First and most importantly, Brendon is here. He flew in on a boat plane, after having received a silver medal at junior nationals (!), and got dropped off at a campsite 10 miles away from the correct location.  Thinking he was waiting for us at our site, we sped through the last 2 miles, and burst into the campsite, spotting a skinny blonde person conversing with my parents.  First thoughts… huh… Brendon lost a lot of weight… and got a haircut?  Unfortunately, it was the campsite manager, and our hopes were crushed as we learned that Brendon was walking the 10 miles to our campsite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark rescued Brendon from the road and our reunion was GLORIOUS.  We even chanted for him as the Tahoe came down the driveway.  Brendon’s first observation was, “Wow, nothing has changed,”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except that Ellen now has a horror story from the trip; a dog attacked her today, lunging at her leg as she sped down a hill.  But her bike was too much for the black lab.  The dog was defeated, and Ellen barely managed to stay upright on her bike, but she made it through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a long ride: 110 miles through the Adironcacks.  Hopefully we won’t be too sore for tackling the Ap Gap tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3430235565629150793?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3430235565629150793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/port-henry-ny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3430235565629150793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3430235565629150793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/port-henry-ny.html' title='Port Henry, NY'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11826534375162199852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-1333383284207236583</id><published>2009-07-19T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T18:49:43.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Forge, NY</title><content type='html'>After a delicious pancake breakfast in the Selkirk State Park, we were on the road by 7:45: much earlier than usual. I had been dreading Day 40 for a while, so when we started our uphill battle to Old Forge, I was a little nervous. It turns out I had no reason to be, because we arrived at the Adirondack Lodge at three o’clock. Maybe we all had a little extra oomph from the pancakes, or maybe it was Mr. Brockett whipping us into shape, but we definitely traveled at a faster speed today that I am used to. It was a day full of hills, mostly up, with a fifteen-hundred foot elevation gain throughout the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ride was relatively seamless. No rain, no crashes, no wrong turns, and not even a single flat. As my dad commented, we “run like a well-oiled machine”. I should hope so, after six weeks together! Of course we only start to get it down in the last week… typical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to add a HUGE CONGRATULATIONS to Brendon, who is bringing home a silver medal after his four weeks at crew camp. He raced against the Canadian national team, the Mexican national team, Boston Rowing Club, and many others and did us very proud, placing second in the 4’s (meaning there were four people in his boat). Brendon, you are amazing, and we are all SO proud of you! We can’t wait for you to rejoin us tomorrow in Port Henry. Hopefully we will all be able to keep up with you a little better this time around, although I won’t be surprised if you are even stronger now than you were when you left us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are at the beautiful Adirondack League Club lodge in Old Forge, New York. Mr. Grayson is a member of the club, and he drove up from Connecticut to meet us here and provide us with these amazing accommodations. From the window of the room that Gwen and I are sharing, we have a sweeping view of the lake, along with the hills and beautiful forest around us. I am finally starting to feel like we are in New England, or at least close. Even though I DO hate hills, they are a comforting reminder that I am getting closer and closer to my home turf.  Soon enough, I’ll be sleeping in my own bed! (Snuggling up with Gwenny, of course).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-1333383284207236583?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/1333383284207236583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/old-forge-ny.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1333383284207236583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1333383284207236583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/old-forge-ny.html' title='Old Forge, NY'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-1009282537346272605</id><published>2009-07-19T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T18:48:36.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Port Ontario, NY</title><content type='html'>Written by Ellen:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a delicious breakfast of left over berries and cream, we realized we had absolutely no extra tubes. (I will admit that I am the worst of all – already with 12 flats). So before we head out we had a speed patching circle going on. One person would find the hole while someone else marked it and passed it on to be glued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After only 3 miles, the mappers (Parker and I) already didn’t know which way to go so we biked up to some photographers on the side of the road. After figuring out which way to go, they asked us to take our picture. Apparently, they were the National Association of Photoshop Professionals. (????)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While following Map my Ride’s instructions, we managed to make a full circle around one neighborhood and come back to the same road we started on. But then Parker and I got our act together and found a short cut that took off about 7 miles (which is a lot on a bike).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day proceeded as usual – 35 miles until snack then 35 lunch. Today did do one thing though, it was an eye-opener for us: oh yeah… there are such things as hills, and they are hard. Oh, and at lunch, Parker did something incredible. He actually admitted to “feeling it”. I think it was a one-time thing never ever to be seen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the afternoon, the Brocketts were scheduled to arrive (a day early – Mr. Brockett just couldn’t wait). Mr. Brockett was going to go to the camp, get on his bike, and bike our route backwards until he found us. However, Parker and I got a little lost once again – we just missed our turn by 2 miles or so. Some of us turned around to meet Mr. Brockett while those a little too tired to add 5 miles just kept going. Those more tired/lazy were Ellie, Angie, and I. We picked our way along Lake Ontario wistfully eyeing the apple and cherry orchards as they passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are sitting in the beautiful Selkirk State Park, watching a beautiful sunset, digesting the Duke’s last delicious meal, and listening to some Cat Stevens. These are some of the times I am going to miss the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Ellen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-1009282537346272605?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/1009282537346272605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/port-ontario-ny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1009282537346272605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1009282537346272605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/port-ontario-ny.html' title='Port Ontario, NY'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-9075289890189806234</id><published>2009-07-19T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T18:47:00.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Macedon, NY</title><content type='html'>That was pretty long. Our rest day in Niagara Falls flew by. The day after? Not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    We spent the first few miles of our day looking for the Eerie Canalway, a recreational trail right alongside the canal. After some initial trouble, we found a sneaky little wooden stairwell that led right down to the edge of the canal. There, the journey began. We made our way down the steps with our bikes in hand, excited for the day. As soon as we reached the canalway, the surface troubled us. It was gravel, not exactly loose gravel, but tiny pebbles that at times made you feel as if you were riding on a beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    We decided to cross the canal in order to reach a paved road on the other side. We encountered what Parker likes to call “off-road terrain.” Determined, we climbed through bushes and tall grass in order to reach the other side. Once we made it to the pavement, the road abruptly ended. It was quite a drag as we returned to the bridge, ready to take on the gravel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Before long, it started raining. It was the first rain we had encountered in about two weeks. Personally, I was pretty excited to bike in the rain. I had missed the feeling you get when you’re biking in the pouring rain and people look at you on your bike like you’ve gone insane and you just think to yourself, “Yes, I am that extreme.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    The gravel canalway definitely had its obstacles. The main problem was that the canalway was dominated by animals. Not just any animals either. Very scary animals that wreak havoc on bikers. Canadian Geese. Besides the abundance of droppings they left all over the trail, these animals were very territorial, and very much dangerous. Mark and Angie learned that firsthand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Poor Angie. He’d been riding with us for a few days now, a couple hundred miles under his belt. He was feeling good as he rode along the canal when all of a sudden, he saw Mark go down in front of him. There was no time for him to swerve and he landed right on top of Mark and his bike. We all heard the crash and stopped. As Mark picked himself up, we asked him, “What just happened?” With gravel stuck to his legs, and feathers all over his bike, he answered, “I’m pretty sure I just ran over a goose.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    The geese on this trail did not give up their land. Either they were too lazy to move out of the way, or they just wanted to give us bikers trouble. Even when they did scurry off of the trail, they would hiss at us as we rode by. I won’t forget that encounter anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    As a combination of rain, gravel, and geese slowed us down, we made it to lunch a bit late, and we left even later. It was 4:00 pm when we left our lunch spot with 40 miles left to ride in the rain. It was a drag to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Soon, Parker got a flat tire, naturally. Mark decided to stick around with me and him to make sure we didn’t mess things up too badly. In the end, he saved our lives. As the three of us rode together, miles behind the group in front, the directions got tricky, even for Mark, the map fiend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    We got lost a few times, but then just as we were rolling along, it was my turn to get a flat tire. Disappointed, we all moved quick to get it fixed. The mosquitoes however, bit us as if they hadn’t eaten in days. It was brutal. It was a complete disaster actually. I broke my CO2 canister valve for pumping up my tire, and I didn’t even have a spare tube to replace my flat one. As always though, Mark came through and got us moving before long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    As the day wore on, the sun set and it was getting later than ever. It was getting dark quick as we made it through our last few miles. The last stretch was especially memorable though. As I struggled through the last few miles, I remember gravel  spraying my face from under my wheels. I remember getting some of it in my mouth and thinking how it felt like sand all in my mouth. I asked Parker, “Are you getting all this gravel in your face too?” He answered, “Um, yeah dude.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Later, him and Mark let me in on the terrible news.  It turned out the gravel was actually a hoard of gnats, and yes, I did eat a bunch of gnats. Oh man, what a day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-9075289890189806234?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/9075289890189806234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/macedon-ny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/9075289890189806234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/9075289890189806234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/macedon-ny.html' title='Macedon, NY'/><author><name>Renzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17394389257591632491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-159329330132409023</id><published>2009-07-17T08:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T08:54:11.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Niagara Falls, NY (Rest Day)</title><content type='html'>The generosity of St. Peter’s Episcopal Church to the SPS Cyclists has been abundant throughout our two-day stay in Niagara. In addition to our lovely dinner last night, the parishioners planned out an action-packed day for us. All of the activities we participated in were donated to the Church by local companies who heard of our cause and wanted us to have a memorable day in Niagara Falls. And it truly was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   After enjoying a wonderful sleep-in, we woke up to find out that we had made the cover story for the Niagara Gazette, complete with multiple pictures and a lengthy summary of our journey. We ate a huge breakfast, washed up, packed some lunch bags, and were driven down to the Falls by parishioner Dave Mallam. Dave served as our guide for our trip on the “Maid of the Mist”, the legendary boat that gives tours of the Falls to the average tourist. Armed with our plastic ponchos, we boarded the vessel that took us to the very bottom of this international attraction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was utterly breathtaking. The 100,000 cubic tons of water that run down the falls per second were a sight to behold. The spray from the water hitting the strait below rose fifty feet in the air, and drenched the passengers on board. The boat swayed back and forth, trying to go against the current and keep us close to the bottom of the Falls. All the while we stared up in wonder at the raw beauty and power of this natural wonder of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    We returned to land and ate our picnic lunch of ham sandwiches, fresh blueberries, and ice cream from the Prospect Point Café. After that, the group split two ways: one group decided to try out the new Snow Park, an all year round snow hill where you could sled on huge tubes. The other group decided to go back and rest at the Church. An hour later, we all met up at St. Peter’s, and saw SPS student and Niagara local Katie Martell. We had a great time catching up on how each of our summer’s had been, and discussing our anticipation for the upcoming school year. Katie was also a greeter at Niagara Falls, so she was a treasure trove of information on the Falls. Too soon though, we had to go to dinner and Katie had to leave. Once we parted ways, we headed to the Como Restaurant, the eighty-two-year-old Italian restaurant in town. We had a great dinner there, half of which was paid for by the restaurant, and left with our stomachs full and our spirits rejuvenated. The team ended the day by heading back to the church, and nostalgically looking back at past pictures of our trip that Mark Richardson had taken. We relived all of the Midwest again, from Randy’s Restaurant Plentywood, Montana, to the fireworks display in Stillwater, Minnesota. And it was great. We looked back on our laughs, our challenges, the incredible people we’ve met on our trip, and the beautiful country that we’ve been going through for the past five weeks. Seeing those photos made me realize something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This trip really has been fantastic. It’s been a rollercoaster ride of adventures and experiences, some which we will remember for a lifetime. But I couldn’t be happier to have shared these memories with any other group of kids.  I don’t know how, but we really hit upon a gold mine when it comes to people on this trip. Everyone brings different things to the table so, but they all help to strengthen us as a whole. Working towards a goal so closely with the same people can be tough sometimes, but I think that as a result we have all been profoundly changed. Gone are the teenagers that set out on this trip to see America; they’ve been replaced by young men and women who work as individuals and a cohesive unit to bring out the best in each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve got a little over a week left. We’ll see you at the finish line.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-159329330132409023?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/159329330132409023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/niagara-falls-ny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/159329330132409023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/159329330132409023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/niagara-falls-ny.html' title='Niagara Falls, NY (Rest Day)'/><author><name>Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10889747219626834526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-8370656576911400834</id><published>2009-07-16T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T17:29:06.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sl_Egt9rR3I/AAAAAAAAADc/Cjk7eg1I5Es/s1600-h/highroad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sl_Egt9rR3I/AAAAAAAAADc/Cjk7eg1I5Es/s320/highroad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359218147967321970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sl_EgVmIMJI/AAAAAAAAADU/vohjhANftm0/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sl_EgVmIMJI/AAAAAAAAADU/vohjhANftm0/s320/photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359218141426102418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sl_EgFt3ntI/AAAAAAAAADM/-13RGI0J7FM/s1600-h/maidofthemist.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sl_EgFt3ntI/AAAAAAAAADM/-13RGI0J7FM/s320/maidofthemist.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359218137163603666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some shots of us that my dad took-- us on the "Maid of the Mist" ferry, getting up close and personal with Niagra Falls; us waiting to go through customs into New York; and our two proudest posessions: newspaper covers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sl_Ef5PNI1I/AAAAAAAAADE/Jbxu_QSQGCk/s1600-h/customs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sl_Ef5PNI1I/AAAAAAAAADE/Jbxu_QSQGCk/s320/customs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359218133813764946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-8370656576911400834?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/8370656576911400834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/photos_16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8370656576911400834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8370656576911400834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/photos_16.html' title='Photos'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sl_Egt9rR3I/AAAAAAAAADc/Cjk7eg1I5Es/s72-c/highroad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-957529893083169040</id><published>2009-07-16T17:11:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T08:55:08.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Niagara Falls, NY</title><content type='html'>By Gwen:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six am yet again, and for some reason it is getting colder and colder, but because we were riding to our rest day getting up seemed a little bit easier. The boost really helped the boys this morning because for the first time throughout the entire trip they got their tent down before the girls! We attribute their speed to Angie (Ellie’s little brother) joining their crew. We never thought the day would come.&lt;br /&gt;The morning was beautiful, as we were perched right above Lake Erie for the first twenty miles. Only three cars passed us during the first bit, but unfortunately there was quite a funky smell, and hoards of gnats. You could see them coming for a good minute before you hit them.&lt;br /&gt;Today was really the first day that we stayed in developed areas for almost the entire ride. There were homes throughout the entire route, some of which provided entertainment (I’ll get to that later). Unfortunately the beautiful ride was overshadowed by the excitement of getting to Niagara this afternoon, but of course there were some exciting events on the road.&lt;br /&gt;1.    Sarah ran over Parker (everyone is okay). We were in our final twenty-mile stretch, and distracted by the beautiful Niagara river following us on the right. Parker’s bike slips out from under him as he is cycling at a high speed around a sharp corner with another stranger cyclist heading towards us in the middle of the bike path. As he fell, his body provided a barrier for Sarah’s bike, which catapulted her onto the road in front of her.  The other biker just continued on without a second thought, but we regained our confidence and continued onto the border.&lt;br /&gt;2.    The homes along the final bit of the route were quite eclectic, which provided great entertainment. There were McMansions, tiny historic homes, and even beautiful modern homes which were almost pieces of art.&lt;br /&gt;Riding up towards the falls we could see this huge mist rising from them. As we got closer and closer the crowds got bigger and we could begin to actually feel the mist. Getting to that massive landmark was incredible. I don’t think I even have words to describe how I felt besides pure elation. Passing the border into New York almost felt like we had gotten to Maine.&lt;br /&gt;The church was very nearby and we got there just in time for dinner with a great group of locals before we headed to the local YMCA for showers. Now we’re all sitting in the church playing "Would You Rather" provided by Mrs. Llewelyn. We’re all headed to bed soon so that we can enjoy a good ten hours of sleep before a relaxing rest day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written by Gwen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-957529893083169040?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/957529893083169040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/niagra-falls-ny.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/957529893083169040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/957529893083169040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/niagra-falls-ny.html' title='Niagara Falls, NY'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-6293075698590114392</id><published>2009-07-16T17:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T17:11:34.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Selkirk, ONT</title><content type='html'>By Sarah:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We woke up this morning at our usual 6 o’clock alarm and set to packing up the trailer and preparing for the relatively short (82 miles) day ahead of us.  Ellen was greeted with a friendly good morning in the form of some rain showering down from a tree.  To her dismay, she looked up to find an innocent raccoon staring back at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raccoons weren’t the only animals we came into contact today.  One German Shepard was so interested in our pace line this afternoon, he followed…err…chased… us for over 2 miles.  Parker was the first to notice the large, intimidating dog galloping after us, and he quickly sped ahead to Gwen and Ellie, “GWEN.  I am NOT KIDDING.  There is a dog chasing us,” and sped on ahead to warn Ellen and I who were casually biking along trying to figure out our next turn.  One look back at that dog, and the string of 7 people pedaling as hard as they could away from it, and we were off.   Those last 5 miles went by real fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone in Canada is friendly.  We haven’t been mooned, or flipped off, we’ve only been yelled at once (which we deserved for riding in the middle of the road), and everyone we talk to is up for a good conversation and more than willing to share stories and knowledge of this area. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last 10 miles of our journey followed Lake Eerie, and we enjoyed the view of green-blue crashing waves and wild flowers.  Angie rode the entire day with us without a single complaint; he kept up with us so easily, we were really surprised when he said, “I’m pretty tired, but mostly I’m just really hungry.”  Story of our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written by Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-6293075698590114392?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/6293075698590114392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/selkirk-ont.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6293075698590114392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6293075698590114392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/selkirk-ont.html' title='Selkirk, ONT'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-7549607415318869136</id><published>2009-07-16T17:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T08:55:26.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Port Stanley, ONT</title><content type='html'>Today seemed to be filled with benchmarks for me, whether it was crossing the border into Canada, my parents having their first day, or finally being able to say “I’m full” at dinner (that was a big one). It seems that with everyone one of these benchmarks, we are getting closer and closer to the finish, which for me is very bittersweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was cuddling up on the pews of St. Mark’s Church last night in Marine City, I was wondering if I would be able to sleep. The pews were narrow, hard, and it seemed as though it was going to be another long night… Eight hours later, I was woken up to Parker’s frantic calls of “It’s 6:20! It’s 6:20!”. I guess those pews weren’t so bad after all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a delicious breakfast at the church, we headed down to the ferry to cross into Canada. While waiting for the boat to arrive, we spotted the newspaper stands. “Guys! That’s us!” someone exclaimed, and we all jumped on the papers. We were on the cover of the Times Herald from Port Huron, featuring three pictures of us and a great article about the trip… very exciting stuff. We also were joined by a reporter named Dave from The Voice, who gave us some great advice and even a donation. Thanks, Dave! While going through customs on the other side of the river, my dad was showing off the newspaper to the customs officer (even after Mrs. Richardson had warned us not to be sassy at the border! Oh, Dad…) and he said, clearly uninterested, “Wow, you guys really hit the big time, huh?”. Whatever, we still thought it was cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part of the day for me was that my little brother Angie got to ride with us for the first sixty miles. Angie, you are awesome. You kept up like a champ, and we were all very impressed with you. I can’t wait for you to keep riding with us! I hadn’t seen Angie in months, and it was awesome to chat with him and catch up. Hopefully, he will be riding whole days with us soon and we will have even MORE time to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, while taking a quick water break on the side of the road, Parker went into the woods to pee. We were all waiting around, when suddenly, we heard noises coming from where Parker was standing. It seemed as though he was talking on the phone. We couldn’t believe it! “Parker!!! Let’s go!!” Sarah yelled (very bold, Sarah). Parker finished up his chat and emerged from the woods, seeming as though nothing was wrong. When we asked him what had happened, all he had to say for himself was “Sorry guys... I had to take that call.” Very smooth, Parker. Next thing we know, you’ll be wearing a suit on the rides and asking us to step into your office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the rest of the day winding along the border of Ontario, getting glimpses of the massive Lake Erie over the fields of corn and wheat. Now we’re in Port Stanley, Ontario. We’re staying at a church here in town, and were treated to a delicious perch dinner courtesy of the Optimist Society here in Port Stanley. Thanks, Optimists! Personally, I am very excited to be in Canada, as that brings us closer and closer to the Niagara Falls, Stowe, and finally Maine.  It’s all coming to an end so much sooner than I thought it would! But it’s not over yet…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-7549607415318869136?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/7549607415318869136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/port-stanley-ont.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7549607415318869136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7549607415318869136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/port-stanley-ont.html' title='Port Stanley, ONT'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-1379591291424001385</id><published>2009-07-12T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T18:28:02.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marine City, MI</title><content type='html'>Right now, the SPS cyclists are sitting on the border between the United States and Canada. It is crazy to think we have come this far; we have made it to another country.&lt;br /&gt;But I guess I am getting ahead of myself...&lt;br /&gt;This morning, while trying to wake up over a bowl of oatmeal, the girls challenged the guys to a duel - kind of. In other words, we just tricked them into getting ready on time by questioning their ability of getting ready before us. They boys, denying everything, fell for our scheme and raced around trying to get ready. Even though we still did not get out on time, I will give them the credit of getting ready before us.&lt;br /&gt;Another change that occurred today was the maps. Until now, my dad always carried a map just in case the kid carrying the map got us lost. However, today, two kids had maps... we got lost, two or three times but we survived only adding on one mile or so. Overall, it worked out very well and we are planning to continue the kids having the maps.&lt;br /&gt;I think every other road sign we passed had a St. Paul's connection. Carter, Wheeler, Wagner, Darbey, Callahan, Dixon, Mary, Lowell, Van Dyke, Sullivan, Sterling, Kinney - once we started looking for them, they popped up everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;About three miles form Brown City, our snack spot, a car drove by honking at us. No one took much notice until Parker started to yell "It's Biddle!" and proceeded to bike as fast as he could to catch up - wihtout much success.&lt;br /&gt;After a lovely lunch in Memphis (shout out to an awesome song - Walking in Memphis by Marc Cohn) we continued our way via rail trail to Marine City. As we pulled into the St. Mark's Episcopal Church, three reporters and some of the church members came out to greet us. After a delicious chili dinner, Scott drove us to some nearby showers. On top of that, he took our laundry to his house - he was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, we are looking forward to crossing the border into Canada which is thankfully really flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Ellen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-1379591291424001385?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/1379591291424001385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/marine-city-mi_12.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1379591291424001385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1379591291424001385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/marine-city-mi_12.html' title='Marine City, MI'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-7374982127770774514</id><published>2009-07-12T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T19:16:35.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Caro, MI</title><content type='html'>I slept on the most comfortable couch ever last night. It felt so good.  Until I got woken up at six in the morning that is. We were all in deep sleep when Gwen had to wake us up after her alarm went off unnoticed by the rest of us. Outside, it was rainy, gray, and awful. My couch looked so good. Luckily, Mark suggested that we wait out the storm for half an hour because the forecast was promising sunshine later in the morning. The little sleep-in was very much appreciated, even though falling back to sleep after an early wake up is always tough. You know how that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Anyways, we got on the road at 8:30, a little later than usual, but with sunny skies above us, and warm air pushing us forward. Fortunately for us, there was a twenty-mile bike trail that ran alongside our route. As soon as we hit the trail, we slammed on the pedals, cruising through some really nice, flat, and smooth road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    This took us right into a local farmer’s market in downtown Midland. Knowing us, we stopped and enjoyed some delicious strawberries, kettle corn, and apple cider slushees. It definitely hit the spot.&lt;br /&gt;    Afterwards, as we were getting to lunch, we got a little lost. Seeking directions, we went into a Seven Eleven. Little did we know what was going down in there. The place was packed with customers. It turns out that today was 7/11, otherwise known as “Seven Eleven Day”. And what did that mean? Free slushees for everyone! Again, knowing us, we hit that up.&lt;br /&gt;    By lunchtime, our unexpected stops were catching up with us. We left our lunch stop at 5:00 pm, a little late for our liking. Just as we were finding our way back onto the main road, I remember seeing Sarah just come off her bike and fall onto the ground. We all saw it since she was in front, and we were all pretty worried. Distraught, we all rushed over to see if she was okay. Just as we did so, she burst into poem. Line after line, she gave us a beautifully prepared rhyming poem. We were all perplexed until we figured it out from her words. It was her first flat tire of the trip. She was the only one of us to not get a flat tire yet and apparently, she had been thinking the moment over in her head a million times, or at least enough times to work up a speech. Oh Brockett…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Later, Parker got two more flat tires. Considering the fact that we had not had a single flat tire for about a week, we just took them like champs. Oh well, we had a good streak going.&lt;br /&gt;    Finally, at 7:15 pm, we pulled into our destination: Caro, Michigan. It turns out that this campground is packed with people. I bet there are more people in this place than in most towns in Montana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    After a long day, it sure feels good to go to bed. Even if it’s on a sleeping pad rather than on a couch, and even if there’s a woman somewhere nearby screaming her heart out singing the song from Titanic on a karaoke machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Renzo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-7374982127770774514?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/7374982127770774514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/marine-city-mi.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7374982127770774514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7374982127770774514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/marine-city-mi.html' title='Caro, MI'/><author><name>ellen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02107986574668875934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-1032107957455613690</id><published>2009-07-10T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T19:03:20.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clare, MI</title><content type='html'>Our first day in Michigan started on a high note and got better and better as the day wore on. Like robots going through the motions, the group dragged themselves out of bed at our six o'clock wake- up call. While we enjoyed a breakfast of cereal, bagels and fruit, the group realized that rather than running the risk of traversing unpaved back-roads to our destination of Clare, we could simply get there by going on the main road (Route 10). That having been decided, the group got on the road and went thirty miles in what seemed like little time. But then something incredible happened: Mark suggested that instead of stopping for a morning snack as usual, we could go out to a diner and have "Second Breakfast". The group consensus was immediate and unanimous: it was one of the best ideas of the entire trip. So we stopped at a diner in the town of Baldwin to partake in our second meal  of the day. And it was glorious. A Valhalla of breakfast delights awaited our aching stomachs, and nothing could have hit the spot better. With our appetites appeased and our spirits rejuvenated, we hit the road for our next set of thirty miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had gone about twenty miles when Mark received a call from Mrs. Richardson saying that she had met a pair of bikers up ahead in the town of Evart, where we were stopping for lunch. They had told her that there was a scenic, paved bike path that led to the town. Mrs. Richardson immediately called us and told us how to get to the path. The team branched off the main road, and found the path. It was everything we had been promised. With Renzo dancing to "You Can Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac on his iPod ( no hands of course), and Anna Richardson blowing past all of us and leading the pack fifty yards in front of us (Anna completed her first ninety-eight mile day today after only three days of biking. Congratulations Anna, it took the rest of us about one week to do that), we reached our lunch destination. We ate lunch on our new bike trail, then got back on Route 10 to finish out the day. Nothing terribly eventful happened except for a wicked tire-kisser crash by Renzo and Anna. Renzo hit Anna's tire, causing him to bellyflop onto the road and Anna to fly onto the gravel next to the road on her knees. Luckily, neither were terribly hurt, and we continued on our way. The region gradually turned from suburban to agrarian and we finished our day on a scenic lake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are now currently staying at the Turner household right outside of Clare, MI. Immediately as we came in, they took us to their backyard, where they had a lake. We happily took a dip, and then enjoyed a delicious barbecue of hamburgers, hot dogs, and Polish sausages. We met some of the local Youth Group members who joined us for dinner, and we took a pleasant tour of the lake on the Turner's boat. And now it's bedtime. See you all tomorrow night, same time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-1032107957455613690?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/1032107957455613690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/clare-mi.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1032107957455613690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1032107957455613690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/clare-mi.html' title='Clare, MI'/><author><name>Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10889747219626834526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-6195441059849248622</id><published>2009-07-09T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T18:41:18.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ludington, MI</title><content type='html'>As usual we woke up at six, but this morning we had two special surprises. The smell of Wisconsin cow was drifting through the air at our campsite and the temperature was definitely in the forties. Needless to say, it was a pain crawling out of our sleeping bags, but there was one thing that made it all worth it… FERRY DAY!!! This is the day I have been waiting for the entire trip. Crossing Lake Michigan on the S.S. Badger has gotten me over the Cascades and the Continental Divide, and today we are living the dream.&lt;br /&gt;We left the campground at 7:30 with only forty miles of road stretched in front of us. It’s amazing how much more enjoyable biking is when you only have forty miles total. Usually for us that’s just one segment of the day. When we got to town we enjoyed a quick lunch, and then boarded the ferry, which was taking us to our last time zone.&lt;br /&gt;The Badger had amenities we couldn’t even have dreamed of: A movie theater, a kids zone, a gift shop, and more, but what we found most interesting was the map of the United States. It was the first time we had seen a map of the entire country. Looking at all we had done, we were elated. The group must have been in front of the map for easily ten minutes admiring what we had accomplished.&lt;br /&gt;Over the loudspeaker they announced that they were having a “Badger Idol”. Immediately we knew our group had to be a part of that. Sarah and Parker bravely stepped forward and earned some serious respect from the rest of the group. Parker performed a luscious rendition of “And So It Goes”, which wooed audience members, and Sarah sang “When I’m 64”. Her performance involved multiple twirls and in typical Sarah fashion, a great smile. Both performances blew the competition out of the water, but the audience chose Sarah’s as the winner. The prize was $100 Gift cards, which we all spent in the gift store within twenty minutes before we finished “10 Things I Hate About You”.&lt;br /&gt;Now we are all enjoying a night in a hotel with real beds. Tomorrow looks like it’s going to be brutal so we will all be hitting the hay pretty soon before we’re rudely awoken by the obnoxious alarm clock. See you tomorrow!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-6195441059849248622?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/6195441059849248622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/ludington-mi.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6195441059849248622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6195441059849248622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/ludington-mi.html' title='Ludington, MI'/><author><name>Gwen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02000485934771541968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3634996942344756681</id><published>2009-07-09T10:11:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:11:58.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrightstown, WI</title><content type='html'>Today was another long day, but luckily not as long as it was supposed to be.  Rather than going to Winnebago Lake (and biking west) , we stopped about 20 miles short in Wrightstown. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There wasn’t as much climbing today as there was yesterday, but we encountered a headwind, a few ferocious dogs (more on that later on), billions of mosquitoes, and some really gross, unidentifiable stenches.  Pace lines were perfected after a brief group conference about how to avoid the “pedal-coast” as Mark calls it, which is when a biker pedals really hard to catch up to the person in front of them, and then coasts a ways to take a break, and then pedals really hard again.  In a string of 8 people (including our newest member, Anna), the results caused by a single pedal-coaster is chaotic; the line of bikers ends up looking more like an accordian, rather than a centipede (not my words, I swear.)  Unfortunatley for the group, there’s a few of us “pedal-coasters”, not just one, so pacelines sometimes fall apart quickly.  But after the talk, we cruised on through the headwind just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With 40 miles left in the day I was in the back of the pace line, singing to some music minding my own business when from the left, I hear loud barking.  With images of a dog snarling after my bike, snapping at my legs as I tried to ride, I darted forward “SPEED UP! SPEED UP!” and pedaled as fast as I could away from the feral barking.  Finally, feeling safely out of reach (with 6 people between me and the monster), I turned around to observe my predator and was a bit embarrassed to see a small terrier running as fast as his little legs could carry him.   Who knew those dogs could run so fast…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few more miles down the road, Renzo hit his bikers-high.  Now, you should all know that this is a very special time of day for us.  He usually seems pretty focused on the bike, either listening to some tunes or thinking about something to himself, but suddenly the hands will come off the handlebars, and the head will start bopping; dancing takes on new meaning after watching him lip-sync to whatever’s playing through the ear-bud.  Ellie thought that we should capture the special moment on video, so at her code word “WHALE!”, Ellen whipped out the camera and caught some of it.  Hopefully it’ll end up on the blog the next time we have decent internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Ferry Day!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3634996942344756681?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3634996942344756681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/wrightstown-wi.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3634996942344756681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3634996942344756681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/wrightstown-wi.html' title='Wrightstown, WI'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-7197210677866128109</id><published>2009-07-09T10:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:11:38.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Antigo, WI</title><content type='html'>Today is kind of hazy in my memory… but this is what I do remember from: It was hard.  Really, really, hard. We had 110 miles to do, and we didn’t get out of Holcombe until 8:30. We had a slight headwind and a lot of climbing in the first 30 miles. The Richardsons have provided us with some GREAT food, my personal favorite being all the fruit. We had some pineapple the other day that was AMAZING… but that’s beside the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we got into Antigo, we turned right and headed to the Aquatic Center here in town. It was awesome, a two huge pools (and a waterslide!!) with locker rooms, showers, and fresh towels. We swam in the pool, slid on the slide, and cleaned ourselves up courtesy of Doctor McKenna, who also bought us some delicious ice cream as an after dinner treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few people have asked me what the highlight of the trip has been so far. And I gotta say, I’m stumped! Whether it’s a great conversation on the back roads of Wisconsin, a delicious meal, or meeting someone new, every day is different and exciting. We have been met with incredible hospitality everywhere we have gone, and I have heard more interesting stories and met more fascinating people than I can count. Even the moments that I thought were miserable (hailstorm, anyone?) have proven to be some of the most memorable of the trip. So if you ask me what the highlight has been, don’t expect much more then a shrug and an “I don’t know”, because really, I don’t!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, not much else happened today. Sarah’s been having some bike problems, but I just heard word from outside the tent that her derailleur has been replaced and that should fix the problem. All of our minds are on tomorrow, which apparently has a lot in store for us. 120 miles of rolling hills and hot, humid Wisconsin air. I know we’ll all (especially Gwen... she can’t stop talking about it) be looking forward to Thursday, dubbed “Ferry Day”, when we will only have 40 miles to go and then a nice 5 hour boat ride into Michigan. I can’t wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-7197210677866128109?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/7197210677866128109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/antigo-wi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7197210677866128109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7197210677866128109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/antigo-wi.html' title='Antigo, WI'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-162238898218652158</id><published>2009-07-09T10:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:10:53.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holcombe, WI</title><content type='html'>Today was the first day of my parent’s rotation. After saying goodbye to Mr. Grayson, we headed out with a new addition to our bike group, my sister Anna.&lt;br /&gt;In the morning, we biked 40 miles of beautiful Wisconsin terrain while teaching my sister the intricacies of Harry Potter 20 questions. We had snack in Connersville where the Van Woerts caught up to us again. The afternoon ride was absolutely gorgeous. My sister Lindsay, while bored stiff in the car, decided to take pictures of all the different telephone poles. &lt;br /&gt;About mid-way to lunch, Ellie took her second tumble of the week. Luckily, this one was not nearly as bad.&lt;br /&gt;When we finally got to the United Methodist Church in Holcombe, Karen and a few other very nice people already had dinner ready and we had a delicious meal of scalloped potatoes, baked beans, salad, and to our surprise, CHOCOLATE CHERRY CAKE! Chocolate Cherry cake is one of Mrs. Coogan’s specialties. It is a tradition on the Alpine ski team at St. Paul’s at every race. Both Ellie and I were very excited about this cake.&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, Ellie and Sarah showered in the hose outside of the church while the rest of us went down to the river. At least a little cleaner than we arrived, we came back to the church to enjoy a night of movies. But first “the camera lady” from the local newspaper came to interview us and take our picture.&lt;br /&gt;Now we are sitting in the church watching Ten Things I Hate About You. And we couldn’t be happier!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Ellen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-162238898218652158?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/162238898218652158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/holcombe-wi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/162238898218652158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/162238898218652158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/holcombe-wi.html' title='Holcombe, WI'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-456923104853415702</id><published>2009-07-05T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T21:31:00.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stillwater, MN (Rest Day)</title><content type='html'>We were looking forward to this rest day for a while. After a long week of biking, we got to rest in the beautiful town of Stillwater, Minnesota. Following our long night out celebrating, I was ready to sleep in. I got up at 10:30 this morning, and I only did so because I really had to go to the bathroom. While the cyclists were sleeping this morning, our hero Mark Richardson was already on the road, hitting up the local “Bikery” downtown. This local shop has earned praise for its status as a bike shop / bakery. Mark later told us that he met this really interesting guy named Oliver that was the bike mechanic / pastry chef / owner of the place, who was apparently debating with his coworker as to the consistency of his brownies while he was fixing Mark’s bike. What an impressive dude.&lt;br /&gt;    That morning, we had a great breakfast at this cozy place next to the hotel. Honestly, I was pretty impressed with myself. I was able to throw down three eggs, sausage links, hash browns, and four pancakes (by the way, I weighed myself two days ago and I’ve gained eight pounds on this trip... I wonder how much of that is actually muscle).&lt;br /&gt;    Afterwards, we visited the bike shop and did some laundry. Then, it was time for some serious relaxing. The girls wanted to watch a movie, and unfortunately, my fellow male cyclist Parker was missing. As a result, we ended up watching P.S. I Love You. I’m not going to lie. It was pretty good. You know, it stirred a little something inside.&lt;br /&gt;    Donna Richardson and her two daughters soon arrived from New Hampshire to join us for the next week of the bike trip. We’re all really happy to have them and are looking forward to another week of excellent support.&lt;br /&gt;    For dinner, we went off to the city park, where Mark Grayson had found us a great place to have dinner. The spot overlooked the St. Croix River that separates Minnesota from Wisconsin. During the cooking process, we decided to reorganize our support trailer and Tahoe. It was pretty rough. At the end of it all, everything was neatly arranged and properly stashed. I feel as if we probably should have let the support adults in on the reorganization though, because later Mark Grayson was trying to find zip-lock bags and he told me, “I can’t find them. They really organized this trailer!”&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;    While we were having our delicious meal of lamb and mashed potatoes, these folks walked by with some huge ice cream cones. Intrigued, we flagged them down, and as always, we somehow got to talking about our bike trip, and they were very interested. Later, as we were finishing up some pie, they came over again and told us that they were the leaders of a church nearby and that they really appreciated our efforts. One man said a prayer for us right then and there and boy did he get into it! I remember him saying, “These kids are biking across the country and oh my god! That is awesome Lord. Bless ‘em!” That was a first.&lt;br /&gt;    It’s getting kind of late now, and we’ve got a 95 mile ride ahead of us tomorrow. So finally, I speak for all of the cyclists when I thank the Graysons for their support this week. Their home-cooked meals were delicious and we very much enjoyed their fun personalities. Thank you so much guys. Without the support vehicle, I wonder what state we’d be lost in right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-456923104853415702?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/456923104853415702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/stillwater-mn-rest-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/456923104853415702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/456923104853415702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/stillwater-mn-rest-day.html' title='Stillwater, MN (Rest Day)'/><author><name>Renzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17394389257591632491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-1163111327879533863</id><published>2009-07-05T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T21:25:28.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stillwater, MN</title><content type='html'>Our 70 mile ride to Stillwater was supposed to be quick and painless. I think it was anything but that for Parker and I. Soon after our first snack at the twenty mile mark, we took a wrong turn. We were both thoroughly convinced that we were following the map’s instructions, and so we plowed ahead, quite idiotically. The map told us we would hit a certain road, and we did. The map told us that we should cross a bridge, and so we did. The map told us that we should find ourselves in Wisconsin. And we did. The map, however, did not tell us that we should find ourselves facing a six-lane highway by mile 30. That’s when we decided we had messed up BIG TIME. After a distress call to the support vehicle, we had to head back seven miles to take the right turn. After that demoralizing stretch, we once again caught up with the support vehicle, and were able to follow the route.&lt;br /&gt;    For the SPS Cyclists though, things are never THAT easy. Naturally, we did not have the last three pages of our map instructions. After hitting Wisconsin, we just had to wing it. And that’s just really not like us. As much as I’m personally opposed to careful planning and organization, I usually like to know where I’m going. Parker and I had to ride the next twenty miles with continuous route instructions from the support vehicle.&lt;br /&gt;    Of course, that was all until we hit a big dead end. We ran out of road as we got to the highway. After some initial confusion, we learned that that was our only way to make it to our rest day. The highway.&lt;br /&gt;I remember telling Parker, “Dude, this is ridiculous…”&lt;br /&gt;We rode on the shoulder of the highway, cringing at every car that zoomed by us. Again, this is not like us at all. But during times like these, we just had to get the job done, After a short stint on the highway, we finally got to Stillwater.&lt;br /&gt;    That night, Mark Grayson treated us to a great dinner cruise. We had some food and enjoyed the fireworks from the upper deck. As it got to be late, we all grew very sleepy and started falling asleep in our seats. We were finally in bed by 12, lucky to have a rest day to look forward to. It was a great night, a celebration. We did, after all, have many things to celebrate. We’ve reached the 2,000 mile mark in our journey, and if you look at a map of the United States, I think one could say that we’re moving along &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pretty&lt;/span&gt; nicely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-1163111327879533863?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/1163111327879533863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/stillwater-mn.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1163111327879533863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1163111327879533863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/stillwater-mn.html' title='Stillwater, MN'/><author><name>Renzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17394389257591632491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-5122436480474639618</id><published>2009-07-04T13:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T13:09:47.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sk-24TQ-mXI/AAAAAAAAAC0/uo9SfcHhxxU/s1600-h/tent.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sk-24TQ-mXI/AAAAAAAAAC0/uo9SfcHhxxU/s320/tent.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354699560327223666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sk-24HNBVkI/AAAAAAAAACs/zbQpe7eUF2c/s1600-h/mississippi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sk-24HNBVkI/AAAAAAAAACs/zbQpe7eUF2c/s320/mississippi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354699557089400386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sk-2387zHbI/AAAAAAAAACk/fgFIlRgFnlI/s1600-h/hooray.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sk-2387zHbI/AAAAAAAAACk/fgFIlRgFnlI/s320/hooray.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354699554332810674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sk-23regj6I/AAAAAAAAACc/427FxY7HqX0/s1600-h/buffaloni.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sk-23regj6I/AAAAAAAAACc/427FxY7HqX0/s320/buffaloni.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354699549646557090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-5122436480474639618?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/5122436480474639618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/photos.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5122436480474639618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5122436480474639618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/photos.html' title='Photos'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sk-24TQ-mXI/AAAAAAAAAC0/uo9SfcHhxxU/s72-c/tent.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-2569561754600034730</id><published>2009-07-04T12:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T12:57:31.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cambridge, MN</title><content type='html'>We clearly enjoyed the hospitality of the Episcopal Church in Little Falls, because we didn’t roll out of town until 8:30 this morning. Even though we had a slow start, we had smooth sailing until snack and arrived in Ramey in good time. We enjoyed some great snacks, courtesy of Pete and Joys Bakery in Little Falls, who donated three huge boxes of assorted delicious things (including Maple Sticks!! The Quest continues!!!) Soon after that, though, we had our first drama of the day. I was jammin’ to some sweet tunes, (I know… I shouldn’t be doing that. But sometimes I just get too bored to resist) when suddenly, my bike slid off of the shoulder and flew out from under me. I skidded across the road and came to a stop in the grass next to the road. I gotta say, it was pretty scary. I’m actually fine; I came out with only a scraped up leg and a ripped bike glove. The thing I’m most upset about is that the scrape ruined my leg tan, and now I have to buy some new bike gloves. We spent the rest of the day enjoying the beautiful Minnesota day (no rain in Minnesota so far!) and making our way to Cambridge. We ran into a small issue with our route, but only had to add a few miles to fix the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highlight of my day was definitely watching the boys attempt to set up their tent without the assistance of the girls.  Every time we camp, the boys pretend to set up their tent while the girls do theirs. After a little while of watching them struggle, we finally give in and end up setting up their tent for them, or, as they like to say, “help them”. As Gwen and I sat in the grass, soaking up our glory, we decided that we just weren’t going to help the boys today. Parker and Renzo struggled with their tent, trying to untangle the assorted poles and cords. They spent about half an hour attaching and re-attaching, staking an un-staking, and asking each other, “Dude, are you sure you did that right?” Gwen and I just sat there laughing, until finally Renzo said, “You know what? Screw it. I’m sleeping under the stars!” That’s when I finally gave in, and five minutes later, their tent was constructed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much else going on around here. We only have 70 miles tomorrow to get to Stillwater, which should go by very quickly. Sarah and I made a plan to get up really early and “drill sergeant style” get on the road by 7:30. Sunday is going to be a rest day, so we want to get there early and begin our well-earned (and sorely needed) rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you in Stillwater!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-2569561754600034730?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/2569561754600034730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/cambridge-mn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2569561754600034730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2569561754600034730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/cambridge-mn.html' title='Cambridge, MN'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-7954446103945091916</id><published>2009-07-03T04:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T04:43:15.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Falls, MN</title><content type='html'>We made it through a day without a single flat!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Everybody had to jump out of bed this morning as we were sleeping on the basement floor of the first Baptist Church (it was far too hot to sleep on the pews as planned) and they were planning on providing us with breakfast at six thirty. Normally the first step into the outdoors in the morning is brisk and uncomfortable, but going to the trailer this morning at six twenty the air was already warm. That is when we knew we were in for quite the day.&lt;br /&gt;As we munched on the breakfast provided (coffee cake, some sort of egg dish with “jimmy dean sausage”, cereal, and toast) the members of the congregation pulled out pictures of the past SPS Cyclist groups which had stayed with them. Renzo saw that Grant Wilson was wearing the same jersey which he had been wearing and announced “Now I am going to wear that jersey everyday!”.&lt;br /&gt;About to head off, as we were doing some superficial bike work, a reporter approached us, asked us a few questions, and took our picture for a story in the Battle Lake Review. By eight fifteen we were on the road and headed for Little Falls, MN. The first thirty miles went by with only two wrong turns, and a bit of a cross wind. The sun was already beating down on us, making us feel like our skin was being seared. Ellie and I were prepared for the sun, keeping our shoulders covered, as we had been completely scorched the day before (sorry Mom). I now have a Neapolitan on my back (chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla).&lt;br /&gt;Snack dragged on for quite a while, now becoming a pattern, as we enjoyed some ice cream in Parker’s Prairie, MN. The ice cream was nothing like we had ever seen before though. It was soft serve, but in many, many different flavors, and you could mix any two you wanted. We had a field day with that (Ellie devoured a Peanut Butter Cup with Maple), and also scarfed down what was left of Parker’s birthday cake. Talk about a sugar rush.&lt;br /&gt;That sugar wasn’t all that helped us through the next thirty-five miles. Although we are embarrassed to admit it we played Harry Potter themed 20 questions for an entire THREE HOURS!!! It made the time fly though and was thoroughly enjoyable. The next thing we knew we had three miles to go and Parker was exploding towards us as we were waiting at a stop sign. “WE WERE ON NATIONAL TELEVISION!!!” We all got a kick out of hearing that for a whole 15 seconds we were seen on Fox news in Austin, TX by his grandfather, but had to get over ourselves and head to lunch.&lt;br /&gt;The final stretch provided multiple stops, but the most important was the grazing buffalo. Ellie told us all a little joke “What do buffalo eat for lunch?... Buffaloni” which she found quite entertaining, before we got on the criss cross fence to take a picture with the buffalo. I was scared the buffalo would charge at any moment, but as everyone had been assuring me, they did not and we left unharmed.&lt;br /&gt;At last we made it to the end of the day at the Episcopal church in Little Falls, MN, which helped us find homes to shower in, and gave us a great meal. Now we are all settled into our sleeping bags ready for a great night sleep and a shorter day tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-7954446103945091916?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/7954446103945091916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/little-falls-mn.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7954446103945091916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7954446103945091916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/little-falls-mn.html' title='Little Falls, MN'/><author><name>Gwen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02000485934771541968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-7134851583774147884</id><published>2009-07-02T18:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T18:32:54.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Battle Lake, MN</title><content type='html'>It’s been so long since we’ve been in a town over 1000 people that trying to get out of Fargo turned out to be a challenge.  We followed the directions of our reliable MapQuest route, but it led us astray, and we ended up forging a trail around wild rice fields and through treacherous dirt roads (more like quicksand) and added 7 miles to our 90 mile day. &lt;br /&gt;After a quick stop along a truck route highway around 20 miles, we started our climb into Minnesota.  As Renzo said, “Woah.  Look at the trees.”  We’ve seen a lot of great sunsets and beautiful, never-ending horizon lines throughout Montana and North Dakota, but to suddenly be in a place with trees again was refreshing.  Minnesota is the state with 1000 lakes, which translates to… look left, and look right, and within three minutes of riding you’ll have seen a slew of different lake/ponds.  They actually sold leeches in a little locally owned convenient store that we stopped in (for bait…? Blickey).  Throughout the day today, we were all gazing around at the scenery with out mouths open.  I think Parker caught a bug.&lt;br /&gt;    There’s definitely a decrease in road kill, which we’re all happy to see, and the roads are suddenly much hillier.  Parker, the birthday boy, led us up 30 miles of ups and downs tirelessly, with a brief stop to talk to a local who participates annually in the MS Tram, and by 4:00… WE HAD MADE IT.&lt;br /&gt;     We’re halfway across the country!  We emerged through the dust, up over one last grunt of a hill, to see our trailer parked in the driveway of a farmhouse.  Ironically, the town 4 miles down the road from our halfway point is called Maine, and the owner of the house had grown up in Gardner, Maine.  It had just been luck that Mary and her 7 year old son happened to be at home, caught us parked down the street, and invited us to eat on their lawn and use facilities.  Matthew, the seven year old, is a BMX prodigy.  He showed us all of his moves on one of his seven mountain bikes (3 of which don’t work, but he’s a “fix-it-man”, so he’s going to patch them up). &lt;br /&gt;    Our destination was the Baptist Church in Battle Lake, Minnesota, where we are all cuddled up on the floor of the church, full of Wild West Barbeque dinner and birthday cake.  Happy 17th, Parker!  “Fast and erratic, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.”  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-7134851583774147884?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/7134851583774147884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/battle-lake-mn.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7134851583774147884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7134851583774147884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/battle-lake-mn.html' title='Battle Lake, MN'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-6290784474374410036</id><published>2009-07-01T04:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T18:31:36.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fargo, ND</title><content type='html'>This morning we woke to find ourselves drenched in dew and absolutely freezing. It was a shock. I think we definitely forgot there could be moisture in the air.&lt;br /&gt;After another delicious breakfast provided by the Graysons, checking each other for ticks, and fixing Ellie’s brake that was about to destroy her tire, we set off on another 100-mile day. As we were biking out of Minniwauken, trying to find our route, we came to a dead end street. Instead of retracing our steps, we just picked up our bikes and walked the twenty feet over the grass to our highway. (For some reason this started happening a lot today).&lt;br /&gt;With the wind coming straight from the north (which was not only annoying but cold), we slowly made our way east bound, continuously hoping for a bend in the road taking us more south. We finally made it to snack. After over an hour of relaxation, we were finally coaxed back onto the road. After only five miles or so, a woman waved us down on the side of the road and out from behind her car came a cameraman. They asked if they could talk to us, explaining that they were from the Valley Live News stationed in Fargo, ND. They asked first Sarah then Renzo and I a few questions about our trip. (It was on the news tonight at 5:00, 5:30, and 6:00 on the local channels 4 and 11).  Then they took video of us riding from every possible angle. However, it was short lived entertainment and we found ourselves with thirty more miles of fighting the wind before lunch.&lt;br /&gt;Lunch was a quick but delicious meal, allowing us plenty of time to get to the Episcopal Cathedral in Fargo where we were planning on spending the night. The twenty miles after lunch consisted pretty much of riding with the wind. This made Sarah, Ellie, and Gwen find themselves far in the lead and making a wrong turn. After a couple of phone calls, they decided to forge their own route while the rest of stuck to the map.&lt;br /&gt;For the rest of us (My father, Parker, Renzo, and me), we found ourselves biking down a dirt road. About mid-way down, Parker’s front tire hit Renzo’s back one causing him to veer uncontrollably off the road and into someone’s field. He came up unscathed and laughing pretty hard.&lt;br /&gt;After a quick (or not so quick) ice-cream stop, we made it to the cathedral. I am sitting in one of the back rooms right now and it is unbelievable. The pastor found a cook who prepared both lasagna and chicken noodle soup for us. After eating an absolutely delicious meal, some of us headed off to Scheel’s for a few bike necessities but ended up riding a single-speed around the parking lot for twenty minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Even though today was pretty fun, we are all very excited for tomorrow which includes Parker’s seventeenth birthday, our half-way point, and a whole new state: Minnesota!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Ellen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-6290784474374410036?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/6290784474374410036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/fargo-nd.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6290784474374410036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6290784474374410036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/fargo-nd.html' title='Fargo, ND'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3371561789325106982</id><published>2009-07-01T04:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T16:21:31.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cooperstown, ND</title><content type='html'>Written by Renzo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so we’re done with day 20. After a long 100 miles, we’ve finally made it to Cooperstown, North Dakota. I think I speak for most of us when I say we were pretty tired throughout today’s ride. Those 100 miles did not come easy. Personally, my legs were still feeling it from yesterday. A good night’s sleep was not enough for me to recover from Sunday’s brutal adventure with Parker. The ride was very nice though. We avoided the highway for most of the day and were able to enjoy ourselves without much traffic at all. The scenery was amazing. We passed many lakes and farms, and there were grassy fields on either side of us at all times. Soon after our first snack stop, Gwen’s great fear of dogs resurfaced as we saw a dog chasing people down further down the road. I took it upon myself to battle it out with this dog, but as soon as we got close, everybody started pedaling like madmen, and before long, we were safe once more…&lt;br /&gt;During the next stretch, we encountered some crazy headwinds that drastically slowed us down. The roads were very flat and yet we had to work like dogs. After 70 miles, we got to lunch, and we were all pretty wiped. After eating, Ellie even fell asleep. After waking her up, we forced ourselves out of our comfortable chairs and onto the road. Running on some tasty tuna salad sandwiches, we struggled through some more unfriendly winds before finally making it to Cooperstown. Here, the Graysons prepared burgers, nachos, and fresh corn on the cob. In my opinion, they were the best burgers I’ve had in my life. Many thanks to the Graysons who are doing a great job so far of managing our support vehicle and preparing some delicious meals. Our next destination is Fargo, North Dakota. Hopefully, tonight’s sleep will be enough to get us through tomorrow without people falling asleep during our breaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Renzo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3371561789325106982?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3371561789325106982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/cooperstown-nd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3371561789325106982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3371561789325106982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/07/cooperstown-nd.html' title='Cooperstown, ND'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3888245862000852963</id><published>2009-06-28T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T19:35:49.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minnewauken, ND</title><content type='html'>Greetings from the SPS Cyclists! We're here in the small town of Minnewauken, ND, enjoying a lovely batch of S'more Pop Tarts.&lt;br /&gt;Today was one of our biggest challenges yet, because the bike mileage was the largest of the entire trip: 130 miles. Prepping ourselves mentally for the feat was tough enough, but actually getting through the day turned out to be tougher than we expected (at least for some--more on that later). After finishing our breakfast, we hit Route 2 with gusto. We made excellent time to our first snack stop at mile 40 of our day. While the rest of the group went off after some locally-grown watermelon, I realized that my chain had fallen off of my bike. Frantically, I tried to put it back on, but by the time I had done so the group had disappeared ahead. Hoping to catch up with the group, I got on my bike, pedaled a couple of revolutions...and got a flat. Not too far away from the support vehicle that had all of our extra equipment, I walked back to the snack spot with my bike. While changing the tire, I saw Renzo, biking the opposite way, back towards our support vehicle, because he had realized that I was not with the group. We changed the tire, then continued on our way. And we were flying, trying with all of our might to catch up to the group....until Renzo ran over a shard of glass and got a flat. Seeing the support vehicle right behind us on the road, we flagged it down to get more bike tubes from them. We changed the flat with a patched tube, put it back onto place on the bike...and the patch on the tube popped! So we tried again, and this time we got a hole in the tube right underneath the hole in the tire. By that time, the support vehicle had left and we were stuck on the road with no more tubes. We phoned the support vehicle, who were waiting at the lunch stop for the other cyclists. They came back half an hour later, and we changed the whole thing, tire and tube. With that, Renzo and I powered it on the road. We got to lunch, and then just kept on going. We made it to Minnewauken soon after the girls, and couldn't move for fifteen minutes afterwards. Oh yeah, it was that extreme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Renzo's Recollection of the day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was some intense riding. I can't move. I think we took it to the max today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3888245862000852963?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3888245862000852963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/minnewauken-nd.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3888245862000852963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3888245862000852963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/minnewauken-nd.html' title='Minnewauken, ND'/><author><name>Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10889747219626834526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-2959520792735962871</id><published>2009-06-27T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T19:05:31.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minot, ND</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkbP0ibMpKI/AAAAAAAAACE/CN6a0ehcKu8/s1600-h/IMG_8446.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkbP0ibMpKI/AAAAAAAAACE/CN6a0ehcKu8/s320/IMG_8446.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352193708677440674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rolled out of Stanley this morning at 7:30, eager to get our day finished early. Due to some logistical stuff that I don't even understand, let alone feel like explaining, we only had 54 miles to travel today. With a slight tailwind, we averaged 23 miles an hour and arrived in Minot at 11 o'clock. We spent an hour or so giving our bikes a thorough cleaning, and covering ourselves in degreaser and chain lube in the process. For the rest of the day, we were free to do as we pleased. Sarah, Gwen and I watched a movie in our room while everyone else payed a visit to Target.&lt;br /&gt;The Graysons arrived in the late afternoon, and were quickly swept up in the swing of the trip. They were given a tour of the trailer, and lesson in driving it, and a run-down on all of our favorite snack foods. After a delicious dinner and a toast to the Stoners, we got to my favorite part of the day... Dairy Queen.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Stoner, my junk food guru, informed me that my snack food repertoir would not be complete without Dairy Queen, so of course, I had to go. I had a delicious "Blizzard" with bits of Reese's in it... it was amazing. And Mr. Stoner got his famous chocolate milkshake-thing (it doesn't really have a name, and takes a long time to explain).&lt;br /&gt;Now the Stoners are leaving us, and we have a week of Graysons, flat North Dakota plains, and long days ahead of us. Stoners, we will miss you, and your support was so appreciated. Graysons, we can't wait to see what this week has in store!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-2959520792735962871?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/2959520792735962871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/minot-nd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2959520792735962871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2959520792735962871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/minot-nd.html' title='Minot, ND'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkbP0ibMpKI/AAAAAAAAACE/CN6a0ehcKu8/s72-c/IMG_8446.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-6746920140339419775</id><published>2009-06-27T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T18:47:44.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Travelling</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Stoner read this to us today at lunch. It's the forward from&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Through Glacier Park&lt;/span&gt; by Mary Roberts Rinehart. We all agreed that it fits our trip perfectly, and thought that we would share it with you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many to whom new places are only new pictures. But, after much wandering, this thing I have learned, and I wish I had learned it sooner: that travel is a matter, not only of seeing, but of doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is much more than that. It is a matter of new human contacts. It is not of places, but of people. What are regions but the setting for life? The desert, without its Arabs, is but the place that God forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To travel, then, is to do, not only to see. To travel best is to be of the sportsmen of the road. To take a chance, and win; to feel the glow of muscles long unused; to sleep on the ground at night and find it soft; to eat, not only because it is time to eat, but because one's body is clamoring for food; to drink where every stream and river is pure and cold; to get close to the earth and see the stars - this is to travel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-6746920140339419775?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/6746920140339419775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/travelling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6746920140339419775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6746920140339419775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/travelling.html' title='Travelling'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-2710998897344256445</id><published>2009-06-27T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T16:02:40.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Stoner's Comments</title><content type='html'>This is the 27th of June, and Carol &amp;amp; I have been running the bikers' chuck-wagon for nine days, crossing our home state of Montana and the first 100-odd miles of North Dakota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be replaced later today by the Graysons (Parker's folks), and be on Northwest Airlines (a/k/a The Night Train to Sverdlosk) at 5 AM tomorrow, heading back to Boston.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Details of the trip to date are recounted below, and nothing of great consequence can be added by us.  I am compelled to mention, however, that these bikers are feeding machines, taking in somewhere between six and eight thousand calories per person per day, much of it in the form of quick energy-producing simple carbohydrates:  That's French for "junk food."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early on, I advised 'em that if they were gonna eat crap, it needed to be the very best crap available, and thus the continuous quest for the ultimate maple stick (still eluding them), the penultimate hamburger (found and devoured) and the incomparable confections--Big Hunks and  Pearson Nut Rolls (acquired in bulk and gobbled by the fistful).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a mildly serious note, we have been parents for over 37 years, Brendon being the baby of the family.  All of our children have had the great good fortune to meet and bond with very high quality peers, establishing marvelous friendships that carry on into adulthood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although Brendon had to temporarily break away from these friends to row at Nationals, we feel completely at ease in his absence.  These kids are relentlessly cheerful, unfailingly polite and helpful, intellectually agile and tough as nails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a pleasure for both of us to have been associated with this contemporary "Voyage of Discovery," and we wish the cyclists a safe and smooth ride to the Atlantic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by Howard Stoner&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-2710998897344256445?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/2710998897344256445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/mr-stoners-comments.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2710998897344256445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2710998897344256445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/mr-stoners-comments.html' title='Mr. Stoner&apos;s Comments'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-5863504632041782111</id><published>2009-06-26T19:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T20:07:40.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stanley, ND</title><content type='html'>We got on the road late today (9:30!), and within a few minutes, we had moved into a new time zone and a new state.  We tried to make an N and a D out of our bodies beneath the North Dakota (Discover the spirit) sign, but it didnt work very well; apparently all of this biking has not been good for our upper bodies, because the middle part of the N and the curve of the D had some trouble staying upright... (Ellie and Gwen?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were told multiple times from our hosts in Montana, the Millers and the Stoners, that North Dakota is much much flatter than Montana, but today didn't really prove that theory, much to our dismay.  It seemed as if the last 60 miles were up, down, up, down, up, up, up, up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes after our lunch break we started to notice the usual streaks of water and mud running up our backs, yes, rain again.  It kept up all the way to Stanley.  Mark Richardson got his first flat today, which leaves me as the only person not to have had one yet.  Although I probably just jinxed myself, and I will wake up tomorrow to find both tires deflated, or be cruising down a hill and pop one on some glass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding with Renzo and Parker today was classic.  Every hill we'd come up to would be just another challenge in their ultimate quest for the perfect Subway sub, and the steep slope in front of us would be met with cries of "For the maple sticks!" or "Grayson, buddy, we just burned through that Randy Burger," which was followed by a burst of speed from Parker.   We ran into the Van Woerts again at the crest of one hill, and they told us how lucky we were to have a rest day yesterday due to the 30 mph headwind they battled against. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the girls are snuggled in bed, high on endorphins and eating the most delicious candy bars calld Big Hunks which Mr and Mrs Stoner introduced to us.  Tomorrow is their last day with us.  They've gone above and beyond the call of duty time and time again, and provided great stories and company along the way.  We'll miss you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-5863504632041782111?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/5863504632041782111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/stanley-nd.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5863504632041782111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5863504632041782111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/stanley-nd.html' title='Stanley, ND'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11826534375162199852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-6393236113486281570</id><published>2009-06-25T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T20:09:40.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Plentywood, MT (Rest Day)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ch0-pNju2H4/SkWIzqTbbzI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qSIc-qGaeXY/s1600-h/P1000985.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351834153310187314" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 320px; height: 240px;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ch0-pNju2H4/SkWIzqTbbzI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qSIc-qGaeXY/s320/P1000985.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ch0-pNju2H4/SkWIN9D4mGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_Kpg4GXPZp0/s1600-h/P1000979.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351833505510234210" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ch0-pNju2H4/SkWIN9D4mGI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_Kpg4GXPZp0/s320/P1000979.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, we had a rest day. On day 16, we found ourselves in Plentywood, Montana, ready to give our bodies a break from bikes for a day. First off, we had a radio interview in store. It was a pretty special experience. It was our first live radio interview of the trip, and we were pretty excited. It took place in the back of a little drugstore, in a backroom, where two telephones were our microphones. After we had our time as celebrities, we had some breakfast and drove to Outlook, Montana, just a fifteen-minute drive from Plentywood. It was time to meet the Stoner family. As soon as we got there, we were thrust into the world of farming. Farms surrounded us. Individual houses were at least two miles apart. After a delicious lunch with the locals, Helen Stoner, Brendon’s grandmother, gave us a wonderful look into the history of Eastern Montana, as well as the lives of her relatives and how they first settled the land. Afterwards, we explored the farm machinery found at the Stoner farm. Parker and I got a sweet ride in a tractor, and we all got a close look at the combines used to harvest the crops. Later on, as temperatures soared above 100 degrees, we sought shelter in the house of Bonnie Stoner, Brendon’s aunt. We got to relax for a while, enjoying a movie, and lying on a massive, very comfortable couch. Amazingly, we had another home-cooked meal. It was a feast, and I’m getting really worried that we won’t be too spoiled after today. The Stoner family has hosted us so graciously. We’re all very thankful for their generosity and their willingness to give us a little peak at how they live out here. Now, it’s time to hit the hay and get ready for another day on the road. It’ll be out last in Montana. Tomorrow, we’ll finally get through this mighty state. After 9 days, we’ve finally made it. What’s next, North Dakota? No problem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351834605223160002" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ch0-pNju2H4/SkWJN9z4KMI/AAAAAAAAAAc/cSw9yfk2juw/s320/P1010004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-6393236113486281570?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/6393236113486281570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/plentywood-mt-rest-day.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6393236113486281570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6393236113486281570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/plentywood-mt-rest-day.html' title='Plentywood, MT (Rest Day)'/><author><name>Renzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17394389257591632491</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ch0-pNju2H4/SkWIzqTbbzI/AAAAAAAAAAU/qSIc-qGaeXY/s72-c/P1000985.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-6167855692130594238</id><published>2009-06-24T20:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T20:56:21.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Plentywood, MT</title><content type='html'>We awoke this morning at six am just like any other day. As we stepped outside into the parking lot of the Cottonwood Inn, the sun was already shinning and even then the air was warm. The smell of Mr. Stoner's eggs on the Coleman stove were wafting through the air and the infamous mosquitos were already landing on our legs, so bug spray was quickly applied. We were quick to hit the sticky, hot pavement and begin our 110 mile day along Route to for what seemed like the millionth day.&lt;br /&gt;In our first thirty mile stretch we were already beginning to feel the hints of boredom, so we began straying from our usual pace lines, and were riding two abreast. The shoulder was big, so we thought this would be perfectly acceptable, despite the middle fingers we received from multiple pick ups. Anyway, we were all settled into the rythmn of riding when all of a sudden the sound of sirens jolted us back into reality. Yes, that's right sirens. We were pulled over by the Montana State Troopers. Sirens, lights, and all. We all pulled over, and beared ourselves for the worst. He stepped out of his vehicle, surrounded by stirred up dust, and began to explain to us how Montana State law clearly defines that cyclists must ride below the speed of the cars, and single file as close to the white line as possible. "I wouldn't want any of you to get run over". As soon as he saw Mr. Richardson, and realized we weren't just a bunch of routy kids horsing around, he changed his tune and asked us a few questions. Luckily we escaped without a scratch, but it was a close call.&lt;br /&gt;The temperatures were in the nineties and the roads were flat and straight. Ellie and I continued our chatting in the back of the lines which seems to pass the time quite well. The group even experimented with a new game, the name game. If I wasn't so exhausted I would go into detail, but five miles from the finish we hit a very unpleasant surprises: HILLS. After miles, and miles of flat open land these hills appeared out of nowhere, and were not welcomed by us. We schlept up them (Ellie and I keeping eachother motivated), and eventually arrived in Culbertson, MT. Mr. Stoner had parked the trailer right infront of an ice cream shop, which couldn't have been planned better. There we hooked up with Mrs. Stoner's sister and headed by car up north of our route for a rest day in Plentywood, the Stoner's original hometowns.&lt;br /&gt;The ride was about forty five minutes, and almost everyone enjoyed a nice nap. For some reason the landscape was too interesting to me as the other Mrs. Stoner (Brendon's aunt) explained all of the farming. I learned about Elevators, Silohs, Dry land, irrigation, and much much more. Who knew farming had so much terminology! I thought I was in a different country. The two sisters were reminiscing about times in their highschool days, and the stories were just too interesting to fall asleep to, but the stories were cut short by our arrival at the hotel.&lt;br /&gt;After we had all gotten cleaned up, we headed for dinner at Randy's (two blocks from our hotel) Brendon's grandmother, and some other members of the Stoner family joined us, and we enjoyed a "family" dinner. As you ight have seen from the pictures, we enjoyed a LARGE dinner.&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Stoner challenged Parker and Renzo to the Randy Burger (although he did not order one himself). This burger was twenty ounces of lean ground beef, slathered in mayo, and topped with lettuce, tomato and onion. Even the bun fit over the entire burger!!! To our surprise they both finished the ENTIRE burger before they slurped down their mountain dews. All before nine o'clock.&lt;br /&gt;Now we've all retired to our rooms and are slowly headed for bed. Sweet dreams!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-6167855692130594238?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/6167855692130594238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/plentywood-mt.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6167855692130594238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6167855692130594238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/plentywood-mt.html' title='Plentywood, MT'/><author><name>Gwen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02000485934771541968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-8352375579960418150</id><published>2009-06-24T20:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T20:12:08.439-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Randy Burger Deluxe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkLppQS2_mI/AAAAAAAAAB8/SIgsVu4VYIc/s1600-h/IMG_8390.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkLppQS2_mI/AAAAAAAAAB8/SIgsVu4VYIc/s320/IMG_8390.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351096202227547746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkLpo4fSbFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/YowYEmXCFFs/s1600-h/IMG_8382.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkLpo4fSbFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/YowYEmXCFFs/s320/IMG_8382.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351096195837226066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkLpohR2aTI/AAAAAAAAABs/AIXdsf4IPuA/s1600-h/IMG_8374.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkLpohR2aTI/AAAAAAAAABs/AIXdsf4IPuA/s320/IMG_8374.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351096189606848818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, we went to Randy's Restaurant in Plentywood, Montana for a delicious dinner with the Stoner's family. Parker and Renzo conquered the incredible, 20 oz. "Randy Burger Deluxe". I have some after shots too... but they're not pretty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-8352375579960418150?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/8352375579960418150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/randy-burger-deluxe.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8352375579960418150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8352375579960418150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/randy-burger-deluxe.html' title='Randy Burger Deluxe'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkLppQS2_mI/AAAAAAAAAB8/SIgsVu4VYIc/s72-c/IMG_8390.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3228097591325739487</id><published>2009-06-23T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T21:25:58.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Glasgow, MT</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Remember that well known fact that girls take a long time to get ready? Well, it is absolutely false. Everyday, the four of us girls (who have to all share one bathroom) are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;consistently&lt;/span&gt; waiting for the two boys to hurry up. This morning, they showed up to breakfast ten minutes late and even after a little nagging, left the girls waiting close to half an hour to get on the road. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By eight o'clock we had begun our short day of riding (70 miles). Instead of staying on route two, we decided to change it up and take the old highway, a well-worn road full of pot-holes and dirt patches. It was well worth the bumps as we were able to witness beautiful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Montanan&lt;/span&gt; scenery as well as a spectacular &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;array&lt;/span&gt; of wildlife: antelopes, gophers, deer, a semi-wild herd of horses, and various birds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we neared toward our snack break, the mosquitoes attacked. These were no ordinary bugs - they were huge, having the capability to bit through clothing. Coming in swarms, they landed all over us even as we pedaled faster and faster trying to avoid them. We must have looked ridiculous, squirming and writhing on the bikes trying to brush the mosquitoes off before they bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For snack, Mrs. Stoner surprised us not only with a beautiful location by a river but also with maple doughnut sticks. Ellie is now addicted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the supposedly short and easy day, by the time we rolled into Glasgow around 1:30 we were absolutely exhausted. After a quick lunch, we collapsed on our beds not even retaining the ability to stay awake for a movie. I think I can speak for everyone else when I say that the rest day coming up is much needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner at the hotel, a reporter from the Glasgow Courier stopped by to take our picture and interview us. We had a great time talking about the  trip, reminiscing over previous moments. But all too soon, bed time rolled around as we still have 110 miles to go tomorrow. Yikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3228097591325739487?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3228097591325739487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/glasgow-mt.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3228097591325739487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3228097591325739487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/glasgow-mt.html' title='Glasgow, MT'/><author><name>ellen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02107986574668875934</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-2859457156188261850</id><published>2009-06-23T15:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T15:25:59.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkFVpOyTvPI/AAAAAAAAABk/2TEOhoxGUdg/s1600-h/IMG_8332.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkFVpOyTvPI/AAAAAAAAABk/2TEOhoxGUdg/s320/IMG_8332.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350651999124962546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Our&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt; 1000 mile celebration-- spelling it out with our bodies! Whose "0" looks the best??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkFVoy-84aI/AAAAAAAAABc/kENGApV9jWo/s1600-h/IMG_8280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkFVoy-84aI/AAAAAAAAABc/kENGApV9jWo/s320/IMG_8280.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350651991661797794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how we feel sometimes at the end of the day... like collapsing! Helmets and all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-2859457156188261850?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/2859457156188261850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/photos_23.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2859457156188261850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2859457156188261850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/photos_23.html' title='Photos'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SkFVpOyTvPI/AAAAAAAAABk/2TEOhoxGUdg/s72-c/IMG_8332.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-1288600032769782713</id><published>2009-06-23T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T14:05:02.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Parent's Perspective</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Biddle drops out…&lt;br /&gt;Pete Brockett asked for a parent's perspective, so I share a few thoughts and memories as I peel away and head back to Vermont.&lt;br /&gt;It's mid afternoon in Bozeman, Montana. I left the group yesterday and I'm sitting in the airport where my welcome back to reality is a massive flight delay and the prospect of having to spend the night in Chicago, courtesy of United Airlines. I wish I were in the high plains of Montana, pedaling home with the kids, with a sore butt and a sore back and that insatiable appetite that comes from eight hours on a bike, and struggling to keep up with those speed demons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met the St. Paul's group at the Seattle airport at midnight 15 days ago. Ten days of cycling, roughly 800 miles and five 5,000-foot passes (Washington, Sherman, Loup Loup, Wauconda and Marias) later, through rain, hail, laughter and assorted mishaps, we coasted down into the rolling plains of eastern Montana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moments after I left them this morning, the pilot of the small plane flying me to Bozeman spotted the string of seven cyclists on Route 2, an organized now-experienced group, heads-down, sailing eastward. It was cool to watch from the air. They stopped and dismounted to wave, and we buzzed them twice.&lt;br /&gt;For the past ten days the routine has been consistent. Rise at 6 a.m., with Gwen's early bird alarm the first at 5:45 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;"It's 5:45!" she'd chirp (I'm told by the other girls; I slept with Mark in our cozy little tent). Everyone's usually up just after 6 a.m. If all goes smoothly, we'd be on the road by 8.&lt;br /&gt;My morning routine included two essential pain relievers: 400 grams of Advil and a generous application of anti-friction balm (also known as "butt-er") to key posterior saddle-contact areas. I wish I could report that it was of great use. Let's just say I'm still tender.&lt;br /&gt;On the road, the tribulations came daily: every set of tires on every one of the kids' bikes developed weird bulges and had to be replaced; there were about 15 flat tires in the first two weeks (I have blisters on my thumbs from changing punctured tubes); Parker and I got lost for hours in the woods one day (yes, in the woods); a fair amount of rain and cold and even some hail; lost support-car keys….&lt;br /&gt;Mishaps aside, this is a smooth-running trip, honestly, which I attribute to attitude. These are kids with a shared mission and an understanding that, well, shit happens. You just have to deal with it with equanimity and push on. Always more road to gobble up.&lt;br /&gt;On day one, Parker and Brendon were way out in front, which made them our lunch-spot scouts. When the rest of the group arrived, I eyed the un-shaded, un-scenic, no-place-to-sit, next-to-the-highway hot-and-prickly road-side pullover with ill-disguised disapproval. As I devoured my peanut butter, banana and honey sandwich, I suggested to Parker as supportively as I could that in the future he might be a little more discerning.&lt;br /&gt;"OK," he said cheerfully, adding "Mr. Duke, really, I get it. But on something like this you just have to go with the flow."&lt;br /&gt;Going with the flow. Now there's one of my lessons from the journey. The lunch spots, however, were superb from then on.&lt;br /&gt;Days on the bikes are filled with singing and games — often led by Ellie. The song game is a favorite. Everyone who knows music gets a chance to sing. Parker favors hymns and the like, being a madrigals tenor with a wonderful voice, while Ellie and Sarah seem to know all the words of a million great songs. And even when we weren't singing Ellie seemed to be humming something. Gwen is the aspiring rapper in the group.&lt;br /&gt;These being brainy kids, discussions up and down the pace line can be mind-boggling. Ellen, for example, raised the following questions, which sustained us for a few miles in Idaho: Why is it easier for the cyclists behind the lead rider? What do you call the energy behind the rider at the front of the group? You should have heard the chatter on this with Mark Richardson, who's some kind of math and physics wonk, guiding the discussion like a seasoned prep school prof. The conclusion? Like a book on a shelf that requires energy to place it there, resting high up with energy set to release in its fall to the ground, the lead rider is creating "potential energy". Ergo: drafting is using another rider's potential energy. Thank you, St. Paul's physics teachers.&lt;br /&gt;Evenings bring delicious meals, including in the first week: paella, grilled lamb with chimichurri, and Peruvian ceviche (Graysons, Richardsons, Dukes, Brocketts, are you ready to stir up some "road trip haute cuisine"?). And tons of fresh fruit. And when we got to Montana, down-home barbeque.&lt;br /&gt;A highlight of my leg of the trip was having Jay Speakman and his daughter, Rachel, join up. They drove up from their home in Gearhart, Oregon to camp with us at Marblemount on the first night. In typical Jay fashion he slipped in at midnight and we awoke to him making coffee and oatmeal on a single Coleman stove on the tailgate of his truck.&lt;br /&gt;Their intention was to spend one night only, and push on into the Cascades to camp and hike. Their plans changed when they met the seven teenagers. Rachel, who is 12, was mesmerized. Quiet as a mouse, she just took it all in: the intelligent banter, the jokes, the sense of shared mission. No fool, she also thrilled to the downhills on her mountain bike, some of them as long as 20 miles. Their single night stretched to one day and another night…&lt;br /&gt;They left six days later.&lt;br /&gt;It was great to see Jay, whom I don't seen often enough. I met him almost 30 years ago when I went exploring for surfable waves in Maine. A lobster fisherman living on Little Cranberry Island, Jay had grown up in Hawaii and Maine (mom was from Down East and dad was a collge prof at the U of H). He's one of those guys that knows how to gut a deer, and build a house, drive a forklift and reconcile a balance sheet. He can dismantle a Cummins diesel in his garage and rebuild it while discussing the merits of constructive engagement with Cuba. Idoline, Ellie (when she was a year old) and I drove 1,000 miles from New Mexico to the tip of Baja in 1994 with Jay. He met up with us two weeks ago in Washington in the same Toyota truck, running like a top 150,000 miles later.&lt;br /&gt;We needed Jay. He was our third indispensable wingman on the early Washington-Idaho leg, and quickly befriended everyone. At one lunch stop he eyed the sky suspiciously and declared that it would begin to rain hard "in 30 seconds." As predicted, it did, and everyone scurried like manic chickens to save our scrumptious lunch spread and find cover. Jay, meanwhile, whipped out a tarp and in one quick motion covered lunch and saved our food.&lt;br /&gt;The kids marveled at the simplicity of the act.&lt;br /&gt;"Sage!" Renzo declared.&lt;br /&gt;Jay taught us all a thing or two.&lt;br /&gt;I'm up to about 1,000 words now so I'll just punch out a few random memories:&lt;br /&gt;• I am in the shower at our first campground, cheerily lathering up, and I hear someone in the next stall. For some reason I thought I'd seen Renzo headed to the showers.&lt;br /&gt;"Renzo?"&lt;br /&gt;"It's Gwen!" comes the voice, followed by a chuckle.&lt;br /&gt;"Ooops."&lt;br /&gt;Seems I'd wandered into the girls' bathrooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Parker and me, lost, deep in the woods... and I am describing "Deliverance" to him. You know, the book and movie about the city guys who get lost on a Southern river and chased (and almost molested) by rednecks. "Your point, Mr. Duke?" He might have asked. He didn't because he's too polite. Moments later I pointed to our destination, a two-lane state highway visible across the valley, and explained in classic Biddle fashion that we had two choices: to shoulder our bikes and hike a mile or more through the woods and across a river to the road (my preference) or retrace our many, many steps. Parker, far wiser than I, chose the known route. We retraced. After our escapade in the woods we got a flat in the rain, got hailed on and biked an extra ten miles for the day. Parker never lost his cool, cheerful and focused. He could easily have blamed the whole ordeal on me, Instead, he admirably shared responsibility, and notched it as a memorable experience. What a guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Riding through the Blackfeet Nation's biggest town of Browning, Montana, taking in the rusting cars, the shabby pawn shops, the "loans on payday" signs, the crumbling houses and boarded up businesses, the run-down bars and gambling parlors. Heartbreaking. Then, that night, hearing first-hand from locals of the struggles on the reservation and the tension between the American Indians and the communities around the reservation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Seeing the Cascades on the horizon from the Pacific and, 10 days later, seeing the snow-flecked Rockies from the high plains of eastern Montana, knowing that we'd started on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Hearing the Fallas' inspirational story of their move from Peru to the USA where Doc Falla is now a successful physician and their son is a top student at SPS; spotting eagles and bear and deer and elk; figuring out drafting and pace-lines whilst singing and talking and riding no hands and videoing; Parker's most excellent pep talk that encouraged us home to Stanton Creek cabins…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Being with Ellie for two whole weeks! And trying to keep up with her in every way. Still trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Eating endlessly yummy food and knowing that it was all going to a good cause: fueling the next 100 miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What an epic adventure. I feel fortunate to be part of it and to have had time with such wonderful people, both parents and kids. The cyclists are an inspiration, and even as they do good, with the support of hundreds of people, they're building memories and friendships for a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This probably isn't what Pete Brockett had in mind. Just remember to go with the flow. Most of the rest is details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you in Michigan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-1288600032769782713?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/1288600032769782713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/parents-perspective.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1288600032769782713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1288600032769782713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/parents-perspective.html' title='A Parent&apos;s Perspective'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-5582599017040536426</id><published>2009-06-22T20:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T13:45:39.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Malta, MT</title><content type='html'>Today was our longest day of the trip so far. We had to cover 120 miles of the flat, Montana prairies in order to get to Malta. Immediately as we left the Miller household this morning, we were greeted with thundering downpour. It was a tough hour and a half of unrelenting rain until we stopped in Havre for a quick snack. Braving the elements once again, we continued for another 40 miles until we reached Harlem Montana, for lunch. Luckily, the rain had stopped by that point, but the wind was blowing in full force: we had thirty mile-per-hour northbound winds hitting us on our side, blowing us at a forty-five degree angle to the road. But once we got on the road again, the wind immediately began blowing east, creating a perfect tailwind for us to finish our final fifty miles of the day. The afternoon, however, was highlighted by Ellie getting three (that's right, three) flat tires in the span of two hours. Hopefully we'll have better tire luck tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;We'll continue to keep everyone back home posted on how we're doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-5582599017040536426?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/5582599017040536426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/today-was-our-longest-day-of-trip-so.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5582599017040536426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5582599017040536426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/today-was-our-longest-day-of-trip-so.html' title='Malta, MT'/><author><name>Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10889747219626834526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3366877997131093754</id><published>2009-06-21T21:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T18:11:04.385-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gildford, MT</title><content type='html'>A wonderful continental breakfast awaited us in our motel in Cutbank, as well as a few more entertaining stories from Jim.  Biddle left us today, but managed to make one last moment of epicness when he made a double pass over our pace line in his friends’ plane.  Parker managed to capture a picture of it after throwing the entire contents of his saddle bag onto the side of Rt 2 in order to reach his camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a gas station (stocking up on skittles and snickers) Gwen spotted a Vermont license plate, and, being curious folk, we made a beeline to the gas pumps where the car was parked.  As we got closer to the car, we noticed a small St Pauls crest sticker on the back of the car.  Ellie rolled up to the window and knocked on it, asking “Are you from Vermont?”  The driver hopped out of the car and we got to talking.  It turns out she was a teaching fellow at St. Pauls for 05-06 and was now dropping her parents off to begin their trek across the country.  The Van Woert’s (her parents) biked with us a ways, but we lost them on a hill due to their added 40 lbs of panniers and gear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At mile 30 we were met with a wonderful surprise of three packages of icecream bars (drumsticks, sandwiches, and crunch bars) and a box of donuts.  We managed to make it through 2 and a half boxes (about 13 icecreams for 7 bikers…) Gwen took the cake by eating 3 icecreams, and a maple stick donut.  The sugar rush helped her a bunch because she took the lead in the pace line and within another hour ½  we made it to lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun came out behind the rain clouds (yes, another day of rain) just in time for us to enjoy our food, and a few minutes after sitting down to eat, the Van Woert’s caught up to us bearing a gift in the form of a recovered cell phone.  Unfortunately, it didn’t belong to any of us, however Mr. Stoner called the contact labeled “dad” and found the owner, a chic-looking golf player who was very grateful to have it back (his eyebrows were waxed).  So grateful, in fact, that he bought us 4 cups of coffee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last 30 miles were slow compared to the morning due to the headwind/sidewind that we battled against.  Every once in a while, there would be a really big sideways gust; our tires felt as if they would be swept out from under us.  Parker lost two races…one against a train, and the other against me (although he claims that he was taking the brunt of most of the wind, he just doesn’t want to admit that he was girled.)  And we made it through the last few miles of rolling flat by playing 20 questions.  The environment out here is so completely different than anything we’re used to.  At one point we could see a cluster of machines and buildings that were 20 miles off in the distance.  It was very cool to be able to just look and look, but also a bit frustrating because it didn’t feel like we were making much progress.  I’ve seen more road kill in the past day in the form of gophers than I have my entire life.  Icky.  It’s bad when you’re in a paceline, and the first person fails to tell you that there is a previously petrified gopher to your left… and BUMP… awwwww…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We reached our destination and were immediately greeted by a cute 2 year old showing off his bike.  Our stay here has been so amazing, the Miller’s are so kind and welcoming, and it’s really nice to be in a home again.  They let us smelly bikers right into their house and fed us and put us up in beds.  Their generosity, and their good food, is so appreciated—thank you!!!  Ellie, Gwen, Ellen and I are staying in THE coolest house that the Millers designed and built themselves.  If you want an amazing architect, you should get in touch with Mrs. Miller because seriously… this place is amazing.  As Ellie said, it’s the perfect mix between homey, rustic, and artsy (they have a garage door with windows as their patio door.  Yeah) and I just watched the sunset from the second story windows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve pushed through another day, and there’s another one tomorrow (119 miles! Ahh!)  Wish us luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh!  And Happy Fathers Day, Dad! (PB)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;—Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3366877997131093754?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3366877997131093754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/guildford-mt.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3366877997131093754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3366877997131093754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/guildford-mt.html' title='Gildford, MT'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-6455217475862155805</id><published>2009-06-20T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T20:43:46.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cutbank, MT</title><content type='html'>Eastern Montana, here we come!!! We spent the morning riding over Maria's Pass, across the Continental Divide (Gwen's life dream is to cross the Rockies on a bike, so she especially was very excited) and the afternoon descending into the plains of Montana. It was incredible, the landscape completely changed when we crossed through the pass. We rode from a mountainous, lush forest into a dry, flat plain. Now we can see for miles all around us, which is something that I have never experienced before, and it really took me by surprise. It is a mixture of beautiful and overwhelming.&lt;br /&gt;     Only a few minor issues today, the largest of which was an incident with the car keys. At the top of the pass, Mrs. Stoner realized that the car keys were nowhere to be found, so we spent fifteen minutes helping her look for them. After a little while, we decided to keep riding and let her catch up to us. Just as  her brother in law Jim (more about him later) was about to drive off with the trailer attached to his truck, they found the keys to the Tahoe and all was resolved. But I must say, that gave us a little scare and we will most definitely be keeping at extra set of car keys on us now. Another small problem was flat tires... three in only ten minutes! First Gwen, then my dad, and then Me. Below is a picture of my dad's hands, covered in grease from changing the tires.&lt;br /&gt;     Over the past few days, we have gotten to know Mrs. Stoner's brother-in-law, Jim. He stayed with us last night at our campground and provided after-dinner entertainment with his wild stories and good sense of humor. He told us stories of eating rattlesnake babies, fighting off bears, and his crazy "confused" dogs. The most interesting to me personally was his story of how he, a few years ago, was given two days to live. He had a brain tumor, but with faith and the help of his friends and family he got through it. That hit me pretty hard, and made me feel confident that what the Cyclists are doing is truly an important thing.&lt;br /&gt;     We had a delicious dinner at the home of Mrs. Stoner's family, with more food than even we could handle and two super cute little boys running around. Parker had a Wii battle with Hayden, the five-year-old boy. The played three rounds of MarioKart, and I gotta say, it was pretty embarassing. You would think an almost seventeen-year-old boy would be able to hold his own in a simple video game, but Hayden showed Parker how it was done. Below is a picture of Hayden kicking Parker's butt while we all enjoy some good entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;     I have found many fun things to do while I ride, made up many songs (one of which Gwen told you about...) and many games. I have learned to compose letters in my head, and I have made so many lists that I can't even count them all. A list I made in my head today is called "Parkerisms", and it features many (but of course not all) of Parker's famous sayings. Here it is.&lt;br /&gt;Parkerisms:&lt;br /&gt;-Sorry! Sorry... I'm so sorry.&lt;br /&gt;-No big deal.&lt;br /&gt;-Extreme!!&lt;br /&gt;-Honestly...&lt;br /&gt;-In the sense that...&lt;br /&gt;-To the MAX!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now.. I'm sure we'll think of more later. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-6455217475862155805?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/6455217475862155805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/cutbank-mt.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6455217475862155805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/6455217475862155805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/cutbank-mt.html' title='Cutbank, MT'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-1053582635884813089</id><published>2009-06-20T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T19:57:16.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sj2hd3rTgJI/AAAAAAAAABU/2YvmVCoZgBg/s1600-h/photo1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sj2hd3rTgJI/AAAAAAAAABU/2YvmVCoZgBg/s320/photo1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349609466919878802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sj2hdnxJc8I/AAAAAAAAABM/iQEIgCJwePc/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sj2hdnxJc8I/AAAAAAAAABM/iQEIgCJwePc/s320/photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349609462649418690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-1053582635884813089?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/1053582635884813089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/photos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1053582635884813089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1053582635884813089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/photos.html' title='Photos'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sj2hd3rTgJI/AAAAAAAAABU/2YvmVCoZgBg/s72-c/photo1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-7872741670719056976</id><published>2009-06-20T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T19:50:10.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stanton Lake, MT</title><content type='html'>Today was brutal. We left Eureka around eight, with 100 miles of road ahead of us. Soon after we started, it began to rain. We spent the rest of the day fixing flat tires (three of them!), practicing our pacelines on the side of the highway, and adding layer upon layer to protect ourselves from the cold and rain. We stopped for lunch at a pizza parlor in Whitefish, and before we knew it, it was three o'clock and we had only gone fifty miles. We zoomed through the rest of the day, only stopping for a drink at an awesome little coffee shop on the side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;When we pulled into camp at seven thirty (way too late, but that's another story), we were greeted by two girls, KellyAnn and Erin, who are also riding across the country. They are from Spokane, Montana and are totally awesome. I can't believe two twelve and fourteen year old girls are doing something that I am having such a hard time with... We are all so impressed! If you want to learn more about them, you should look at their website: www.kellyannerinbikestheusa.com. Congratulations girls, and good luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-7872741670719056976?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/7872741670719056976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/stanton-lake-mt.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7872741670719056976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7872741670719056976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/stanton-lake-mt.html' title='Stanton Lake, MT'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-1658482754606611276</id><published>2009-06-20T19:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T19:35:04.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eureka, MT</title><content type='html'>The Stoners joined us today, greeting us as we pulled into the motel in Eureka. After a delicious dinner, we are all crashing for the night. We are all literally EXHAUSTED, which is why this post is going to be so short. Off to bed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-1658482754606611276?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/1658482754606611276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/eureka-mt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1658482754606611276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1658482754606611276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/eureka-mt.html' title='Eureka, MT'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-7292980733290928602</id><published>2009-06-18T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T09:18:59.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Libby, MT</title><content type='html'>Hello from Libby, Montana! We woke up this morning with a craving for a big breakfast, so we biked the fifteen miles into Libby from Bull Lake to the famous Libby Cafe. Everyone is sitting around the table right now, bellies full of  huckleberry pancakes, talking about the day ahead. We have about 80 miles ahead of us to Eureka, Montana, where we are staying in a hotel (yes!!!). We've already had some funny encounters today... On the way into Libby we saw a massive building that said, in huge bold letters, TAXIDERMY: THE ART OF THE WILD. I thought that was pretty funny, or maybe just a little creepy...&lt;br /&gt;The Stoner family arrives today to take on the support vehicle duties for the next week. We are excited for some "new meat" (taxidermy joke? not funny?) but sad to say goodbye to the Fallas and Dr. Kiley. All eight of us slept in a one-room, tiny cabin last night, so as you can see, we have grown pretty close. My Dad add's "everyone was very quiet, there were no snorers, only a little sleep-chatting from Parker. It might have been caused from my stepping on him on my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night".&lt;br /&gt;We have had rain every day so far, but it looks (cross your fingers!) like today might be our first clear day. That remains to be seen though, as the weather seems to come out of nowhere most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;More from us later, we have some biking to do!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-7292980733290928602?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/7292980733290928602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/libby-mt.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7292980733290928602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7292980733290928602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/libby-mt.html' title='Libby, MT'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-8983365892960571202</id><published>2009-06-17T21:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T09:21:33.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bull Lake, MT</title><content type='html'>Today we were back on the road for 95 miles after a rejuvenating rest day in Sandpoint, ID (where we got to meet Jennifer, Parker's nanny, who thought he was quite a "stud"). Our bodies were very appreciative, proven by the fact that we were able to survive 60 miles without support, meaning we had no extra food or water. Our lack of luck continued, as we had a thunder storm come down on us just as we passed the Montana border. Shelter was found at a campground right off our route, as we enjoyed some snacks which we stored in our jersey pockets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we spent the night at the same campground as another group of cross country cyclists, except they were in their late fifties and carrying all of their own gear. They all had their own causes, one of which was for battered women. If you would like to find out more on them, please visit her blog at www.starjumpsforjoy.com.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as we passed the border into Montana, we ran across a group of Elk in a beautiful field of wildflowers in front of a mind blowing backdrop of snow covered mountains. The states just seem to get more and more beautiful. As we were enjoying this Montana scenery, the support parents were fretting as they couldn't find us anywhere on what they thought was the route. It turned out that we took a master map, leaving them no real map to follow, meaning we were on a thirteen mile side road that they did not know about. OOOPS!!!  Looking on the bright side we didn't have any wrong turns, any spills, and we kept the pace lines up for almost the entire day, staying as a group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about the rest of the group, but I feel like I am already stronger, as today when I arrived to camp I had energy to help out, as opposed to just collapsing and forcing food into my mouth. The post dinner conversation was quite lively as we gathered around the soapy tubs and cleaned off the dinnerware. The topics varied from future careers to intervis. I think tomorrow morning we'll all measure our thighs just to see how JACKED we really are at the end. (Ellie's tan line is already smokin', along with her rhymes). She made up this song on our last day in Washington.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the tune of "California" by Phantom Planet:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been having fun&lt;br /&gt;Cyclin in the sun&lt;br /&gt;Ridin' for the Jimmy Fund&lt;br /&gt;Portland, Maine here we come&lt;br /&gt;Really far from where we started from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get me straight to Maine&lt;br /&gt;Pedal through the pain&lt;br /&gt;RIding through the wind and rain&lt;br /&gt;Portland, Maine here we come&lt;br /&gt;Really far from where we started from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we leave the west&lt;br /&gt;Cascades were a test&lt;br /&gt;Washington You've been the best&lt;br /&gt;Portland, Maine here we come&lt;br /&gt;Really far from where we started from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next was Idaho&lt;br /&gt;Tan lines start to show&lt;br /&gt;Man my thighs have really grown!&lt;br /&gt;(more to come)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first parent switch is tomorrow, which means the kids now have more knowledge of the intricate trailer organization than the chaperones (but not for long knowing the Stoners). Two states down!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-8983365892960571202?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/8983365892960571202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/bull-lake-mt.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8983365892960571202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8983365892960571202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/bull-lake-mt.html' title='Bull Lake, MT'/><author><name>Gwen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02000485934771541968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-4071819322952473531</id><published>2009-06-16T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T16:46:59.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dad's Video Shots</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-943029b1c4d782cb" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=943029b1c4d782cb&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=9ccc2e2a18f47c08&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d8c9ea8a5e31a441&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/4071819322952473531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/dads-video-shots.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/4071819322952473531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/4071819322952473531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/dads-video-shots.html' title='Dad&apos;s Video Shots'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-1800874755914604348</id><published>2009-06-16T15:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T15:29:40.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some More Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjgcBxdsWoI/AAAAAAAAABE/rxBvVS-JiB8/s1600-h/IMG_0285.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjgcBxdsWoI/AAAAAAAAABE/rxBvVS-JiB8/s320/IMG_0285.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348055374285789826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjgcBrVFQaI/AAAAAAAAAA8/WmgNX6OH2dY/s1600-h/IMG_0281.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjgcBrVFQaI/AAAAAAAAAA8/WmgNX6OH2dY/s320/IMG_0281.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348055372639060386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjgcBShP0YI/AAAAAAAAAA0/LOW1WRGfDLo/s1600-h/IMG_0269.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjgcBShP0YI/AAAAAAAAAA0/LOW1WRGfDLo/s320/IMG_0269.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348055365979197826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here are the ladies (and Renzo) admiring our strong muscles that got us across Washington. And on the left is a group shot of us going into Idaho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sjgb5PZT8PI/AAAAAAAAAAs/wqQRswLFRgM/s1600-h/IMG_0250.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sjgb5PZT8PI/AAAAAAAAAAs/wqQRswLFRgM/s320/IMG_0250.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348055227701653746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have had lots of adventures... from miles on a dirt road (as you can see from Sarah's muddy back) to bushwhacking through the back roads of Washington! Here is Parker trying to maneuver himself over a fallen tree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-1800874755914604348?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/1800874755914604348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/some-more-photos.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1800874755914604348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/1800874755914604348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/some-more-photos.html' title='Some More Photos'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjgcBxdsWoI/AAAAAAAAABE/rxBvVS-JiB8/s72-c/IMG_0285.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-2586147062499138860</id><published>2009-06-16T15:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T15:23:39.475-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sandpoint, ID</title><content type='html'>First thing this morning, our valued teammate Brendon had to leave us. He is headed off to, in my opinion, four weeks of pure hell. He was invited to a development camp for crew, which entails four weeks of rowing, erging, and living amongst some of the strongest young men in the country. Good luck Brendon! You have been a great teammate for the past week, and we can’t wait to have you rejoin us when you are finished at camp. We miss you already!&lt;br /&gt;Day 6 was our hardest day yet, starting in Colville, Washington and ending in Sandpoint, Idaho. Clocking in over ninety miles, it was our longest day so far. Our route took us along the Pend D’Oreille River, with beautiful rolling hills and nice spots to stop and have snacks. The only bad part, in my opinion, was the five-mile stretch of dirt road through the Kalispell Indian Reservation. It was pouring rain and the ride was slow and difficult through the mud and rocks. Later, I will put up a picture that my dad got of Sarah’s back absolutely covered in mud. We all had a similar spray-pattern on our back from the wheels kicking up sand and dirt onto our backs.&lt;br /&gt;    A little while after that, we had a nice lunch overlooking the river. Our friend Jay Speakman (father of Rachel, super-speedy biker) predicted rain, and sure enough, it came. It’s incredible… he’s always right! After lunch he told us it wouldn’t rain again, but Renzo didn’t believe him. He layered up: hat, arm warmers, three jackets, long pants, winter gloves, for the 30 miles ahead. Sure enough, Jay was right, and Renzo ended up sweating all the way to Sandpoint.&lt;br /&gt;    Here’s an insert from Sarah Brockett:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I almost stopped biking today.  After a mile of dirt road, the rain started, and didn’t let up.  Everything up to that point in the day had been awesome: Ellie, Ellen and I serenaded each other up the hills and we had a pretty fast pace line set up that carried us over the first 30 miles.  It was a great beginning to a long day.  After the break, however, I was not a happy camper…maybe it was the overload of sugar I consumed during the break (lots of jellybeans and a half a pop tart).  Whatever it was, the mud and grit that found its way into every particle of clothing and messed with my gears set off my frustration, and as soon as we hit the pavement again I took off.  There weren’t any turns I had to pay attention to and I knew where we were stopping for lunch (mile 64), so I just pedaled as fast and hard as I could.  It’s amazing the difference the previous 5 days of slow climbing have made—I already feel a lot stronger and I was able to average about 20 miles an hour on the rolling ups and downs for the next 15 miles.  Unfortunately, mile 64 came and went, and the lunch-crew was nowhere to be found.  I waited for a bit at the next intersection (mile 65), and finally decided to turn around and find the group.  Jay found me before I found them and told me that they had stopped a mile back at a national forest campground to eat.  After I re-joined the group, and the next bit of thunderstorm rolled through, we were off again for the last third of our 90-mile day.  In the future, I think I’ll stay with the group.  It was nice to bike on my own for a while, but the extra 6 miles it provided were definitely not welcome.  Good news is: I got my first century out of the way! &lt;br /&gt;    Oh, another thing to note: Biddle saved an old dog today.  We saw it wandering in the street, narrowly avoiding the cars that zoomed by.  Apparently it had been frightened by the thunder and wandered off its property, but thanks to the heroics of Mr. Duke, it arrived safely back to its home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we’re in Sandpoint, Idaho. Tomorrow is a rest day, and it couldn’t come at a better time. We have three 100-mile days ahead of us, and we will need the sleep and relaxation. I am planning on doing some grocery shopping, getting some ice cream, and most importantly getting to an internet café to update the blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Ellie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-2586147062499138860?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/2586147062499138860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/sandpoint-id.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2586147062499138860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/2586147062499138860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/sandpoint-id.html' title='Sandpoint, ID'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-5493616285881228063</id><published>2009-06-16T15:22:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T15:23:16.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pend D'Oreille, WA</title><content type='html'>Oh my gosh… Today was quite a day. It started off with Parker needing to change both of his tires. Everyone left around 8:15, except Parker, Dad, and Biddle (who were changing Parker’s tires). We figured they would catch up with us in no time. After having had a nice paceline going for about eight miles, we realized that we had forgotten to turn off of route twenty onto Old Kettle Farm Road. Having climbed about a mile, not really wanting to turn back, and knowing that the two roads came back together halfway up the pass we were climbing, the group pushed on up the mountain on route twenty. Fifteen miles later, we were almost to the top of Sherman Pass and there was still no sight of Parker, Biddle, or my dad. They had taken the correct route that turned, surprisingly, into a dirt road. After separating from them, my dad continued to take the correct route that lead him back to route twenty. However, Parker and Biddle made their way through a single-track trail including fallen trees and bushwhacking. As my dad said, “it was a great mountain bike trail!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insert from Parker:&lt;br /&gt;Just to start off, this day was epic. Let’s start at the beginning. We began our day going on the normal road we were supposed to be on. Suddenly, the road turned into gravel, but we knew that the road was supposed to change over. We continued to follow the map until we took a left onto a dirt path. This road had been created in the depths of hell, but then the Devil had even thought that it would be too cruel for humans to traverse so he decided to put it on a remote mountain in the middle of nowhere in Washington State that we later saw had been cordoned off from the public by barb wire and signs that said “No Trespassing”. Anyways, Biddle and I rode it out to the top of the 9% grade mountain, and then missed a simple turn that would have spat us three miles from the top of Sherman Pass. But we decided to keep going through the overgrown dirt road, climbing over fallen trees, jumping over barbed wire fences, and just destroying our bikes in general. Then the path stopped, just like that. After bushwhacking to get to the road for a while, we realized our efforts were futile. And then the thunder started. Too worried about the rain to go hunting for the trail, we turned around, and biked down the mountain. This turned us out just where we had started an hour earlier. So we then had to bike the extra 10 miles up to the top of the pass, and then through the rain to get down to Colville.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insert from Ellie:&lt;br /&gt;So as you can see, Parker and Dad had quite an adventure. But we did too! When Ellen and I were almost to the top of Sherman Pass, it began to hail. At first it was sparse and the hail was small, but it quickly grew into a fully-fledged hailstorm, with cranberry-sized rocks of ice pelting our bare skin. Ellen and I dove into the woods, trying to find cover under the trees. The problem is, due to a forest fire not too long ago; most of the trees didn’t have any leaves. So there we were, huddled under the bare limbs of a very large tree, snuggling together for warmth. After about ten minutes of waiting for the storm to stop, Ellen and I decided to sprint it up to the top. We went SO HARD (I was exhausted by the time we got to the pass) for about a mile, and then pulled into the parking lot, stashed our bikes, and dove into the back of the Tahoe that’s pulling our van. There we found the rest of our group (except Parker, Dad, and Mark, but you know about that). All seven of us squished into the back of the car, shut the doors, and waited out the storm. Luckily we had food and towels, so we were warm and well fed. After an hour of storming, the hail died down and it was only raining. The hail had lowered the temperature outside to about 40 degrees, so we all bundled up in all of the layers we could find and made our way down the mountain. This was one of the most miserable experiences of my life. We were all freezing, the road was cold and icy, and my whole body ached with cold.&lt;br /&gt;    After a while, it warmed up and we began to shed layers. We then made our way to lunch, where we finally found Dad and Parker, and then finished up the day with 25 miles into camp. I can tell you, we were all very grateful for a warm meal and a comfy bed at the end of that long, cold day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse us for getting these lasts post up so late, but we had been out in the Boonies of Washington and haven’t had access to the internet for a few days. We’re not sure how much internet we will have in the future, but we will keep trying to get it up as often as possible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Ellen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-5493616285881228063?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/5493616285881228063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/pend-doreille-wa.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5493616285881228063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5493616285881228063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/pend-doreille-wa.html' title='Pend D&apos;Oreille, WA'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-8813100476905375695</id><published>2009-06-16T15:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T15:22:30.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Republic, WA</title><content type='html'>Hello from Republic!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve finally gotten our pace lines sorted out (mostly… I still have issues getting too close to people, and then falling behind, but everyone else seems to get it).  Brendon is the champion at leading the pack… he leaves a wake rather than a small draft—I believe the quote was, “You guys are like swift little shells in the water, and I’m a yacht.”  After a long hill climb like today, I can sometimes picture the ripples of broken air coming off of his body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re all exhausted.  We have biked for only 4 days, about 250 miles, climbed over 10,000 feet, descended at over 40 mph.  I would not rather be anywhere else than with this group of people.  We seem to take a long time in the morning… get up at 6 and on the road by 8:30, although some of us are ready a bit early (like an hour earlier) Sorry if this is kind of haphazard, but that’s how my mind works after a long day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Highlights from the day: We climbed 1500 feet, and Brendon realized his wallet had been misplaced.  It was actually left at the Organic Food Co-op in Tonasket, 7 miles back.  Luckily, Jay Speakman came to the rescue and drove back in to town to recover it (thank you Jay).  Ellie, Parker, and Ellen practiced their circus act together in a “no-hands” contest. All three are convinced that they won, although from my perspective, Ellie lasted the longest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we’re just relaxing in Republic after a big dinner. We won’t be able to get the post up tonight, because there’s no internet in our motel, but we will as soon as we can!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Sarah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-8813100476905375695?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/8813100476905375695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/republic-wa_16.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8813100476905375695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8813100476905375695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/republic-wa_16.html' title='Republic, WA'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-972117494006981349</id><published>2009-06-16T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T15:22:01.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Riverside, WA</title><content type='html'>Day 3 of the Bike Trip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    On the third day of our journey, we first rode through a long stretch of flat road, only to find ourselves climbing thousands of feet after midday. Thankfully, we traveled through some great places. We encountered all sorts of farm animals, such as cows, deer, and a bunch of horses. We reached a place called Loup Loup Pass for lunch, the highest point of our day’s trek. At about 4,000 feet above sea level, the climb had pretty much tired us out. At this pass, there was a little camera that took photos of the pass intermittently. It was fun for everyone back home to be able to see us at the pinnacle of our climb. From there on out, the ride was pretty simple. We had a great downhill ride for about 12 miles and then had 20 miles to ride on flat ground. Although it was a little discouraging to have to go that extra bit, we managed to get to the campsite in good time. Once we got to the campsite, we enjoyed a quick dunk into the river which was filled with mud, sticks, and other assorted nasties (and smelled like manure, says sarah). The camp was great! We had some neighbors that were very interested in our trip and the facilities were great. All in all, day 3 was a great day and the last 30 miles were fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Renzo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-972117494006981349?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/972117494006981349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/riverside-wa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/972117494006981349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/972117494006981349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/riverside-wa.html' title='Riverside, WA'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-8731590170332347283</id><published>2009-06-11T21:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T21:36:07.214-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mazama, WA</title><content type='html'>Whew! What a day. Over six hours time, the SPS Cyclists scaled 5,100 feet, making a dent in our ascent through the Cascade Mountains. The top of the Washington Mountain Pass, at 5,477 feet, was the highest elevation that we would reach on the entire trip. This day was predicted to be one of our hardest in the entire journey. The group left at 8:30 AM from camp, and took full advantage of the first flat fifteen miles of the road, prepping ourselves for what was to come. Sure enough, we came upon a steep ascent up into the heart of the Cascades. The trail wound up for miles on end, traipsing us around and across the ice-blue Lake Diablo (cool name right?) as we wound higher and higher. After  a snack break on mile twenty-five, we continued our pursuit up to the top of the mountain pass. Then the thunder and lightning started. With a resounding roar, the thunder reverberated through the mountains. The once-perfect day had disappeared; in its place, black clouds covered the sky. And then the rain came. It came in stinging globs and then coalesced into hail, pounding us as we climbed our way to snow level. But we managed to get through it, and continue our journey. It took us two hours until we stopped again for lunch, at the pinnacle of the pass (or so we thought), where we were greeted by Biddle Duke’s lunch of leftover spaghetti and meatballs.&lt;br /&gt;            Now, as you might imagine, we were pretty psyched after lunch; the toughest part of the day, and possibly the trip, was completed. We were thrilled; the morning had been tough, to say the least. In the immortal words of Ellie Duke: “I wanted to die.” As we started for the afternoon, expecting an easy 20-mile downhill to our camp, we saw what we were looking for: a massive downhill. Our excitement was short-lived. As soon as we rounded the first corner, we saw a huge hill, which led to another six miles and another 1,000 feet for us to climb. But we made it…barely. After taking some pictures at the top, we found what we were looking for-- the downhill. That was sweet. With Brendon in the lead,  and shirt completely unzipped, we zipped down the twenty miles to the finish line.&lt;br /&gt;            The MVP of the Day was definitely our new friend Rachel Speakman. The twelve-year old kept up with us for the majority of the day, donning jeans, a sweatshirt, and riding a hard-core Rockhopper Mountain Bike. She passed all of us on the downhills, and kept up with us the entire time. Rachel, you are welcome to ride with us anytime you like!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you  later. -Parker&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-8731590170332347283?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/8731590170332347283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/mazama-wa.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8731590170332347283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/8731590170332347283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/mazama-wa.html' title='Mazama, WA'/><author><name>Parker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10889747219626834526</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3476086795542644920</id><published>2009-06-11T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T20:09:47.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Photos</title><content type='html'>Day 1: Dipping our tires into the Pacific Ocean. We got about a million of these pictures...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjHDnZAf4lI/AAAAAAAAAAU/ONkG2HoPGTQ/s1600-h/IMG_7906.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjHDnZAf4lI/AAAAAAAAAAU/ONkG2HoPGTQ/s320/IMG_7906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346269314160779858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest Stop: The gang taking a quick break before finishing up the big hill. Stretching, hydrating, and just plain relaxing.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjHEJquQMlI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ie-pcQmpKMs/s1600-h/IMG_7965.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjHEJquQMlI/AAAAAAAAAAc/ie-pcQmpKMs/s320/IMG_7965.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346269903031644754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Washington Pass: Us atop the BIGGEST climb in the whole world, or at least that what it seemed like. What a day... 5,477 ft. of a true uphill battle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjHFJKyPa1I/AAAAAAAAAAk/f4NSnfs3CCM/s1600-h/IMG_7984.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjHFJKyPa1I/AAAAAAAAAAk/f4NSnfs3CCM/s320/IMG_7984.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346270993970064210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3476086795542644920?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3476086795542644920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-1-june-10th-2009-cyclists-dipping.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3476086795542644920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3476086795542644920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-1-june-10th-2009-cyclists-dipping.html' title='Some Photos'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/SjHDnZAf4lI/AAAAAAAAAAU/ONkG2HoPGTQ/s72-c/IMG_7906.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-7184653602155864925</id><published>2009-06-10T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T06:36:09.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marblemount, WA</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Although we were on the road at nine, there was a lot to do before that. We got up, ATE, and then got the trailer organized, which was QUITE a task given the craziness that was within it with cookware, tents, our own duffels, food, camp chairs, first aid stuff, and more. Finally we headed down to Padilla Bay to dip our back tires into the Pacific Ocean, 3500 miles from the Atlantic. The Holiday Inn Express staff, PJ and Danielle, took pictures and provided music (Queen’s&lt;i style=""&gt; I want to ride my bicycle&lt;/i&gt;), Then we got on the road. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Six miles in we had our first wipe out. We were all on the road practicing our pace lines.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There was a road sign that appeared on the side of the road, which the first person saw but failed to inform the following four. Ellen almost missed it, and escaped with just a scraped leg. Then it was Ellie, who just yelped, but Renzo took the cake. He ran into it straight on, flipped over his handlebars, and landed on his back, followed by his bike which landed on top of him. He immediately jumped up and was a champ! No complaints at all, all day. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We ended up on the South Skagit River Highway. It was breathtaking. The river was on our left, and the hills were on our right. The trees provided the perfect amount of shade, and we were on the same road for about 25 miles, so we had plenty of time to practice our pace lines to avoid another sign incident. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Right off the highway we had lunch in Concrete. There, we discussed the beauty in Washington and Ellie commented “I like Washington. It’s like New England…on crack”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And Mark, Ellen’s father, replied “I like anything on crack”. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;From there we only had eighteen miles until our camp site (Alpine RV Park). It just happened to be the hardest part of the day for Brendon. This is where he had his fourth flat of the day which took about an hour and a half to fix, so it was the first part of the day where the pack was ahead of Brendon and Parker. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At about four fifteen we arrived to the tent site and that is when the thunder started. We had to race to get the tents up, get dinner started, and bikes put away. Now we are all sitting comfortably on the picnic tables under a rain tarp as spaghetti and meat balls are being prepared. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-7184653602155864925?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/7184653602155864925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-one-is-done.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7184653602155864925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7184653602155864925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-one-is-done.html' title='Marblemount, WA'/><author><name>Gwen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02000485934771541968</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-5992838654194344769</id><published>2009-06-09T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T20:10:15.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Burlington, WA</title><content type='html'>Hi all, Brendon here,&lt;br /&gt;Today, we made final preparations for the bike trip. We launch tomorrow and are all very excited to finally start the trip. Everything went smoothly today with one exception. Just as I was finishing up cleaning my bike, I discovered that the front gear didn't work. Fortunately, Mr. Mark (my name for Mr. Richardson) and I went to a local bike shop and got it fixed up. The people there were very nice and didn't even charge us in full. People seem very nice when we mention our trip to them. We have found this to be the case the whole trip. We are all really pumped up for the trip. At seven tomorrow, we will dip our tires in the Pacific and embark on our trip! Stay tuned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellie here,&lt;br /&gt;So much going on today! We arrived at our hotel, the Holiday Inn Express in Burlington, Washington, this afteroon to a very pleasant surprise. The people here at the hotel prepared a whole welcome for us, including pizza, a poster, gift bags, and three HUGE boxes of granola bars. We have been so astonished by the kindness and hospitality that people have shown us when we tell them about our cause. It really is incredible.&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, Parker wears his sunglasses whenever possible. I say this only because I looked up from writing this, and he is sitting in the corner of our hotel room writing in his journal wearing his sunglasses. It's a pretty funny sight. When I asked him why he was wearing them, he said "because they make me look fly". Haha, just kidding about that last part.&lt;br /&gt;Another adventure, today we went on our first grocery store trip! The four girls and Dr. Kiley headed out to the store, prepared to find the best bargains. It was a very fun experience. We spent almost an hour cruising through the aisles of "Haggen's", checking out all of the food, trying to figure out what we're going to eat for the next few days. While dancing in the cereal aisle to The Beach Boys' "Surfin' USA" I was caught red-handed by an old man who embarassed me by yelling "you go girl!". I promptly hid behind our shopping cart, while the man walked by and laughed at our shenannigans.&lt;br /&gt;Now we're back at the hotel, relaxing and enjoying our last night of fresh muscles. We're all planning on going to bed as soon as possible, so we can be totally rested for our first day of biking tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-5992838654194344769?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/5992838654194344769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/june-9th-2009-burlington-wa.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5992838654194344769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5992838654194344769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/june-9th-2009-burlington-wa.html' title='Burlington, WA'/><author><name>Brendon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10071442712439748292</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-5234686423495719698</id><published>2009-06-08T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T20:14:18.908-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boston, MA</title><content type='html'>After a year of preparation, a week of exams, packing, re-packing, checking, double-checking, and finalizing every last detail of the trip, we are finally en route to Seattle. As soon as exams were finished on Saturday, we all got to go home for a quick rest and are regrouping today at seven o’clock at the JetBlue terminal in the Boston Logan airport. From there, we fly to Seattle, spend Tuesday preparing the trailer and making final adjustments on our bikes, and on Wednesday we start riding.&lt;br /&gt;It is incredible that after all of our preparation, the trip is finally starting. I know I’m not alone in wondering “am I ready for this? Will I make it?” but I’m sure that with the help of my friends, the Cascades will be no match for me! A few of us have jointly decided that “slow and steady” will be our motto on this trip, we won’t be rushing it in to the finish every day. I’m looking forward to some loooong days on the saddle, and to seeing some beautiful parts of the country.&lt;br /&gt;Ellen and I are currently sitting on the Dartmouth Coach, en route to Logan airport. I don’t think it’s quite hit either of us yet that in two days we start our seven-week-long journey across the country, but for right now we are both very excited. We both agree that the best way to see a place is by bike, it’s the perfect mode of transportation. Hopefully we will still think that in two months!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-5234686423495719698?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/5234686423495719698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/june-8th.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5234686423495719698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/5234686423495719698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/06/june-8th.html' title='Boston, MA'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-7806670449952773153</id><published>2009-05-04T04:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T04:28:50.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Team Photo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sf7QpyilEiI/AAAAAAAAAAM/yYko4q_RfxE/s1600-h/group+photo+300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 220px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sf7QpyilEiI/AAAAAAAAAAM/yYko4q_RfxE/s320/group+photo+300.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331928425213268514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a picture of our team, plus expert bike fitter and our biggest supporter, Dick Drummond. The cyclists are, (from left to right) Sarah, Ellen, Ellie, Gwen, Brendon, Parker, Renzo.&lt;br /&gt;This is the day we got our bikes! Dick fitted each of us separately for our bikes, adjusting all kinds of things that we didn't even know were important. Thanks to him, our rides will be much more comfortable!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-7806670449952773153?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/7806670449952773153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/05/here-is-picture-of-our-team-plus-expert.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7806670449952773153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/7806670449952773153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/05/here-is-picture-of-our-team-plus-expert.html' title='Team Photo'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Psd3b6f6gN8/Sf7QpyilEiI/AAAAAAAAAAM/yYko4q_RfxE/s72-c/group+photo+300.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3276944122276578148</id><published>2009-05-03T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T10:26:13.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Ride Ever!!</title><content type='html'>As we all stood around making the final adjustments for our first ride together as a team, the excitement was palpable. I looked around at my friends: Parker, Renzo, Brendon, and Ellen (unfortunately, cyclists Gwen and Sarah were missing) and thought about the long day ahead. Our tires were pumped, our saddlebags were full of energy bars, and our legs were ready for a workout. We hopped on our bikes at 8:45 and began our nine-hour trek from Concord, NH to Sudbury, Massachusetts.&lt;br /&gt;   To me, these first twenty miles into Goffstown, NH were the hardest of the day. All I could think about were the 80 miles that lay ahead of me... How long it would take, how tired I would be, how hot it was, the big hills I would have to face. I quickly finished off two huge water bottles, and the day’s heat had barely even begun to set in. We arrived in Goffstown in a little under two hours. Brendon got there first, about fifteen minutes ahead of the rest of the group (if you haven’t met this kid… you should. His thighs are as big around as my torso, he pulls a mean 2k, and his determination is sometimes scary… I’m not surprised that he’s leaving us all in the dust!!). We pulled up to the Goffstown gas station to see Brendon sitting on the edge of the sidewalk munching on some trail mix. After about fifteen minutes there: working out some kinks on the bikes, filling up our water bottles, and figuring out the remainder of our route, we set off once again.&lt;br /&gt;   We spent the rest of the day cycling through some of the most beautiful landscape I have ever seen. Never before have I appreciated New Hampshire and Massachusetts so much. It was a gorgeous day: highs of 90 degrees, the sun on our skin, and a slight wind at our backs all day. It was a very hilly ride, with almost no flat stretches. One section stands out particularly in my mind as one of the most stunning views I have ever seen. After a few miles completely surrounded by woods, we emerged over the ridge of a long, rolling hill. On each side of us, there were huge expanses of open, untouched fields, with miles of green mountains in the distance. It was the first real taste of spring that I had gotten this year, and I was overcome with excitement. I can’t wait to experience the beauty of the rest of the United States: this huge country that I have seen so little of.&lt;br /&gt;   After nine hours total, including a long lunch break and multiple water, snack, and bathroom breaks, we arrived at our friend’s house in Eastern Massachusetts. Thank goodness for Mrs. Stoner’s delicious cooking and Mr. Stoner’s skill on the grill, because we were a ravenous and exhausted group. After relaxing for a little while, watching half of “Blues Brothers”, and eating our hearts out, Ellen and I crawled into a big, comfortable bed and crashed. Ten hours later, we woke up, almost completely refreshed… but not quite!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3276944122276578148?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3276944122276578148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/05/first-ride-ever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3276944122276578148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3276944122276578148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/05/first-ride-ever.html' title='First Ride Ever!!'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-862347890323430654</id><published>2009-05-03T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T18:41:25.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning Curves</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hope that what happened during my first experience on the road with my new bike did not foreshadow events that will occur on the bike trip this summer. I pedaled all through March break hooked up to my dad’s “bike trainer”, watching invigorating movies such as Lord of The Rings and Braveheart in order to keep up my motivation for hours at a time in our drab, cold basement.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  Since &lt;/span&gt;the snow and salt on the roads in Northern New Hampshire prevented outdoor riding, I returned to school with Hobbit-songs stuck in my head and a newfound resolve to use all of my free time for training OUTSIDE. However, the excitement of crew and senior spring took over, and I found myself 7 weeks out from the start of our trip without having ridden.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Naturally, when an hour of time opened up between classes and sports last Tuesday, I jumped on the opportunity to take a spin outside.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Let me set the scene for you: 87 degrees, little wind, humid.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I ran back to my dorm after lunch to check my tires only to discover my front wheel lacking considerable air pressure.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My first opportunity to pump up my tires!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A few pumps in, I heard a loud hissing sound, and the tire went flat… I popped the tire.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thanks to the preparation of others (I’m giving the credit completely to my dad on this), my bike pouch contained a spare tire and within a few minutes, I was out on the road.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The heat was barely noticeable with the wind in my face, and the first half of a 40-minute ride was flawless: I even almost broke the speed limit on a slight downhill.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;About 3 miles out from the finish, I unexpectedly encountered a dirt road.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But the battlefield of spikes and rocks couldn’t hinder me in my obligation to get to crew practice on time, and I rode through it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The next challenge didn’t come from the outside environment but rather from the bike itself.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Powering up a long hill, I found it harder and harder to get the leverage I needed in order to keep my wheels moving.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I reached the top and tried to carry my speed down the other side, I realized my seat had fallen into the seat post, and I now mimicked an overgrown adult on a child’s bike.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I felt like Dorothy’s evil neighbor from the Wizard of Oz, you know, the one that gets accompanied by the “dun da dun da dunn dunn” music.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well, apparently the person driving the maroon Chevy Impala in front of me didn’t hear me singing, or see my goofy-stance on the bike, and became a bit over-zealous in his reverse driving.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thank god for good brakes.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would have been little more than a speed bump under a tire.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As it was, I didn’t make a big deal out of the situation, but a very vocal Concord biker behind me had other ideas and volleyed a few well-chosen curses in the driver’s direction. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Overall, it was an eventful first ride… I expanded my vocabulary (thank you, random biker), and I was introduced to just a few of the unseen dilemmas that are sure to pop up along our 7-week trip. We will all have to be prepared for dirt roads, popped tires, broken chains, and bad drivers along the way, and I’m grateful for scenarios like this past Tuesday… it’s all in preparation for the long journey ahead of us.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-862347890323430654?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/862347890323430654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/05/learning-curves_03.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/862347890323430654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/862347890323430654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/05/learning-curves_03.html' title='Learning Curves'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11826534375162199852</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7533343681250216206.post-3721988069959100727</id><published>2009-05-03T18:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T18:31:35.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The SPS Cyclists</title><content type='html'>We are the SPS Cyclists! We're a group of seven students biking across the country this summer to raise money for the Jimmy Fund at the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. If you're interested in donating, check out our website at www.spscyclists2009.org and it gives more detail on how to do so. It also includes bios of each of the riders, our sponsors, and a wishlist for the trip.&lt;br /&gt;On this blog, we will each be writing updates along the trip, and hopefully uploading lots of pictures and information on how we are doing. We hope you continue to follow us and support our cause!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7533343681250216206-3721988069959100727?l=spscyclists2009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/feeds/3721988069959100727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-are-sps-cyclists-were-group-of-seven.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3721988069959100727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7533343681250216206/posts/default/3721988069959100727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spscyclists2009.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-are-sps-cyclists-were-group-of-seven.html' title='The SPS Cyclists'/><author><name>Ellie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01881708452000709330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
