Greetings from the SPS Cyclists! We're here in the small town of Minnewauken, ND, enjoying a lovely batch of S'more Pop Tarts.
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.
Renzo's Recollection of the day:
That was some intense riding. I can't move. I think we took it to the max today.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Minot, ND
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.
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.
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).
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!
Travelling
Mrs. Stoner read this to us today at lunch. It's the forward from Through Glacier Park by Mary Roberts Rinehart. We all agreed that it fits our trip perfectly, and thought that we would share it with you:
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Mr. Stoner's Comments
This is the 27th of June, and Carol & 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.
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.
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."
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).
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.
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.
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!
by Howard Stoner
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.
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."
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).
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.
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.
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!
by Howard Stoner
Friday, June 26, 2009
Stanley, ND
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?)
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...
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.
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.
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!
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...
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.
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.
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!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Plentywood, MT (Rest Day)
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.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Plentywood, MT
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Now we've all retired to our rooms and are slowly headed for bed. Sweet dreams!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Now we've all retired to our rooms and are slowly headed for bed. Sweet dreams!
Randy Burger Deluxe
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.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Glasgow, MT
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 consistently 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.
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 Montanan scenery as well as a spectacular array of wildlife: antelopes, gophers, deer, a semi-wild herd of horses, and various birds.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Photos
Our 1000 mile celebration-- spelling it out with our bodies! Whose "0" looks the best??
This is how we feel sometimes at the end of the day... like collapsing! Helmets and all.
A Parent's Perspective
Biddle drops out…
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
"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.
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.
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….
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.
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.
"OK," he said cheerfully, adding "Mr. Duke, really, I get it. But on something like this you just have to go with the flow."
Going with the flow. Now there's one of my lessons from the journey. The lunch spots, however, were superb from then on.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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…
They left six days later.
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.
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.
The kids marveled at the simplicity of the act.
"Sage!" Renzo declared.
Jay taught us all a thing or two.
I'm up to about 1,000 words now so I'll just punch out a few random memories:
• 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.
"Renzo?"
"It's Gwen!" comes the voice, followed by a chuckle.
"Ooops."
Seems I'd wandered into the girls' bathrooms.
• 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.
• 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.
• 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.
• 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…
• Being with Ellie for two whole weeks! And trying to keep up with her in every way. Still trying.
• Eating endlessly yummy food and knowing that it was all going to a good cause: fueling the next 100 miles.
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.
This probably isn't what Pete Brockett had in mind. Just remember to go with the flow. Most of the rest is details.
See you in Michigan.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
"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.
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.
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….
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.
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.
"OK," he said cheerfully, adding "Mr. Duke, really, I get it. But on something like this you just have to go with the flow."
Going with the flow. Now there's one of my lessons from the journey. The lunch spots, however, were superb from then on.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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…
They left six days later.
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.
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.
The kids marveled at the simplicity of the act.
"Sage!" Renzo declared.
Jay taught us all a thing or two.
I'm up to about 1,000 words now so I'll just punch out a few random memories:
• 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.
"Renzo?"
"It's Gwen!" comes the voice, followed by a chuckle.
"Ooops."
Seems I'd wandered into the girls' bathrooms.
• 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.
• 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.
• 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.
• 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…
• Being with Ellie for two whole weeks! And trying to keep up with her in every way. Still trying.
• Eating endlessly yummy food and knowing that it was all going to a good cause: fueling the next 100 miles.
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.
This probably isn't what Pete Brockett had in mind. Just remember to go with the flow. Most of the rest is details.
See you in Michigan.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Malta, MT
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!
We'll continue to keep everyone back home posted on how we're doing.
Parker
We'll continue to keep everyone back home posted on how we're doing.
Parker
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Gildford, MT
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.
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.
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.
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.
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…
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.
We’ve pushed through another day, and there’s another one tomorrow (119 miles! Ahh!) Wish us luck!
Oh! And Happy Fathers Day, Dad! (PB)
—Sarah
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.
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.
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.
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…
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.
We’ve pushed through another day, and there’s another one tomorrow (119 miles! Ahh!) Wish us luck!
Oh! And Happy Fathers Day, Dad! (PB)
—Sarah
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Cutbank, MT
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Parkerisms:
-Sorry! Sorry... I'm so sorry.
-No big deal.
-Extreme!!
-Honestly...
-In the sense that...
-To the MAX!
That's all for now.. I'm sure we'll think of more later. :-)
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.
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.
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.
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.
Parkerisms:
-Sorry! Sorry... I'm so sorry.
-No big deal.
-Extreme!!
-Honestly...
-In the sense that...
-To the MAX!
That's all for now.. I'm sure we'll think of more later. :-)
Stanton Lake, MT
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.
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!
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!
Eureka, MT
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!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Libby, MT
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...
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".
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.
More from us later, we have some biking to do!
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".
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.
More from us later, we have some biking to do!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Bull Lake, MT
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.
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.
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.
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.
To the tune of "California" by Phantom Planet:
We've been having fun
Cyclin in the sun
Ridin' for the Jimmy Fund
Portland, Maine here we come
Really far from where we started from
Get me straight to Maine
Pedal through the pain
RIding through the wind and rain
Portland, Maine here we come
Really far from where we started from.
As we leave the west
Cascades were a test
Washington You've been the best
Portland, Maine here we come
Really far from where we started from.
Next was Idaho
Tan lines start to show
Man my thighs have really grown!
(more to come)
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!!!
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.
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.
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.
To the tune of "California" by Phantom Planet:
We've been having fun
Cyclin in the sun
Ridin' for the Jimmy Fund
Portland, Maine here we come
Really far from where we started from
Get me straight to Maine
Pedal through the pain
RIding through the wind and rain
Portland, Maine here we come
Really far from where we started from.
As we leave the west
Cascades were a test
Washington You've been the best
Portland, Maine here we come
Really far from where we started from.
Next was Idaho
Tan lines start to show
Man my thighs have really grown!
(more to come)
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!!!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Some More Photos
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.
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.
Sandpoint, ID
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!
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.
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.
Here’s an insert from Sarah Brockett:
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!
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.
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!
Posted by Ellie
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.
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.
Here’s an insert from Sarah Brockett:
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!
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.
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!
Posted by Ellie
Pend D'Oreille, WA
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!”
Insert from Parker:
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.
Insert from Ellie:
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.
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.
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!
Posted by Ellen
Insert from Parker:
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.
Insert from Ellie:
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.
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.
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!
Posted by Ellen
Republic, WA
Hello from Republic!!!
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.
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.
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.
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!
Posted by Sarah
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.
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.
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.
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!
Posted by Sarah
Riverside, WA
Day 3 of the Bike Trip
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.
Posted by Renzo
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.
Posted by Renzo
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Mazama, WA
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.
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.
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!
See you later. -Parker
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.
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!
See you later. -Parker
Some Photos
Day 1: Dipping our tires into the Pacific Ocean. We got about a million of these pictures...
Rest Stop: The gang taking a quick break before finishing up the big hill. Stretching, hydrating, and just plain relaxing.
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.
Rest Stop: The gang taking a quick break before finishing up the big hill. Stretching, hydrating, and just plain relaxing.
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.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Marblemount, WA
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 I want to ride my bicycle), Then we got on the road.
Six miles in we had our first wipe out. We were all on the road practicing our pace lines. 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.
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.
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”. And Mark, Ellen’s father, replied “I like anything on crack”.
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Burlington, WA
Hi all, Brendon here,
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.
Ellie here,
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
Ellie here,
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.
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.
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.
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!
Monday, June 8, 2009
Boston, MA
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.
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.
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!
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.
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!
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