Cycle Through America

Calling a Geography Nerd to Account

For the first time since early May, I took two days off the bike and two days without Gatorade.  Then Monday, I did a 61-mile ride so I could push my monthly bike mileage for June to 2,000 miles, a total I probably will never approach again.  My loop went along the north bank of the Mohawk River to Glenville and then followed the route along the south bank that many of us pedalled on the tour just last Wednesday.  That part of the bike path has long been one of my favorites, but it is now layered with additional memories.

I promised some statistics.  The CrossRoads cue sheets show the route from the Los Angeles motel to the Pacific beach and then to the Atlantic beach totals 3,394.0 miles over 48 days (43 riding days plus 5 rest days).  To that, we added 8.4 miles of unexpected detours around closed bridges in Illinois.  And to that, I added 15.7 more miles for planned and unplanned detours, bringing my total mileage to 3,418.1 miles or 79.5 miles per average riding day.  The longest day was 115.4 miles from Blythe, CA to Wickenburg, AZ.  The shortest was 18.4 miles from Burlington, MA to the beach in Boston.

CrossRoads calculates that we did 146,400 feet of uphill climbing, an average of 3,405 feet per riding day.  The biggest climbing day was 7,500 feet from Wickenburg, AZ, over two mountain passes, to Prescott, AZ.  Two consecutive days tied for least climbing, namely the 500 foot rides from Dalhart, TX to Guymon, OK and from Guymon to Liberal, KS

I spent 270 hours and 42 minutes traveling from motel to motel (6:17 per day), pedalling my bike for 227 hours and 50 minutes of that time (5:18 per day).  The difference (0:59 per day) was filled by stops for photos, fixing flats, SAG stops and restaurants, and sightseeing, etc.  My longest day of pedalling was 8:18 for the 98-mile ride to Dahlhart, TX into a headwind.  My shortest was 1:46 for the ride to the Atlantic beach.

My maximum speed was 48.7 mph on a short downhill on the ride to Tucumcari, NM.  I went 4.4 mph in my very lowest gear over the top of a steep hill near Wooster, OH.  I averaged 15.0 mph while pedalling.  My fastest day was 20.7 mph for the 39-mile, wind-aided ride to Liberal, KS.  My slowest was 10.4 mph for the ceremonial ride through traffic to the Atlantic beach.

I had ten flat tires for which I replaced the inner tube, and for one of which I replaced the rear tire.  My front tire made it from coast to coast.  The record number of flats on this trip was 17.  I have yet to confirm it, but I think we had one rider with no flats.  (I know, I know.  I too have my doubts about that one.)

Our lowest elevation was 14 feet below sea level on I-10 east of Indio, CA.  Our highest elevation was 7.562 feet on I-25 in Glorieta Pass, NM.

I did not record how much Gatorade or how many bananas I consumed.  Nor did I record the number of memories, but there are enough to last a long, long time.

Over? It's Never Over

Thursday night, after our last full day of riding, and after dinner at the motel, each rider had a chance to share some thoughts about our seven-week adventure.  Some were funny, some were spiritual, a few were musical, and most were grateful.  All of us have begun to realize more acutely in the last week that we have created a team, a community, a family, and that - even if some of us might see each other again - the common purpose of the trip was about to be achieved and so the reason for this group's life together was about to end.  We were proud, tired, exhilarated and sad.

Friday, we left the motel in hazy sunshine to battle metro Boston's rush hour traffic on the 18-mile ride to the beach.  There was no reason to hurry, no afternoon heat or storms to beat, and no bragging rights to be won.  We rode in a group of 35 until auto traffic and stop lights separated us.  I rode near the rear, reluctant to end the tour.  Then four of us - Barbara Wood, Beverly Tein, Bill Finnerty and I - formed a convoy at the very back to make sure no rider had to cope with the traffic alone.  We missed a turn in Winchester, but got directions from pedestrians and a local cyclist to get back on route.  The delay made us last to arrive at the rendezvous for the final five miles.  CrossRoads escorted us with their vans at the front and back.  Someone on a porch asked me "Where'd you come from?" and I answered "Los Angeles!"  It was hard for him and for me to believe it.  Local commuters were sometimes patient and sometimes not.  For the last two miles, an additional escort of three police cars blocked intersections for us and let us roll together through traffic lights.  We could hear seagulls and smell salty air.  Then - as the sun burned through the haze - we crested a little rise, saw the water, turned down the hill and rode the last half-mile to the beach.  I was the very last rider to arrive.  There were friends and family, including my wife and children, to greet us at curbside.  Then we carried our bikes across the loose, dry sand to the harder packed, wet sand and on toward the ocean.  Randy Evans remounted his bike and pedalled hub-deep into the water.  All of us dipped one or two wheels.  Some lifted their bikes over head.  Others went for a swim in their bike clothes.  Many, many photos were taken.  The dream was realized.  The journey had ended.  Sea salt was not the only contribution to the saline in my eyes.  We put the bikes in various vehicles and drove back to the motel for a relaxing afternoon and a bittersweet evening of rejoicing and farewells.

Saturday, I traveled 190 miles; that's more mileage than on any other day since the tour began in early May.  It was in the family mini-van as we drove home from Boston, west past the Connecticut and Hudson Rivers across which we had pedalled two and three days earlier.  I'll be re-integrating back into pre-tour routines.  I expect that in a few days, I'll post some final photos and statistics of the tour on this blog site.  I'll also read the other rider blogs, exchange photos with them, prepare an album and reports for interested friends and supporters.  This will help me to hang on to the trip a little longer.  But even when those tasks are finished, and even when life moves on to other things, the memories of this trip and the good work that Catholic Charities can do with the funds so many generous souls have contributed, will last quite a bit longer.  Thank you all for your advice, comments, friendship and support.

Almost There

Today, we rode 87 hilly miles under cloudy skies with occasional light rain showers from Brattleboro, Vermont, across the Connecticut River into New Hampshire, and on to Burlington, Massachusetts.  It has been just over 3,394 miles in 47 days from the Pacific Ocean in Los Angeles and we have one more day and 18 miles to get to the Atlantic Ocean at Revere Beach, Boston.  Lots of people have helped me get this far.  Family and friends have encouraged me.  CrossRoads staff have been top notch on training advice, route planning, SAG support, and occasional mechanical work.  My fellow riders have helped me stay on route, fixed many flats and one stuck chain, and been both fun and inspirational.  Lots of folks have pushed our fundraising total for Catholic Charities to just over $30,000.  One more effort could get us to $34,120 which would be $10 per mile.  Let's see how tomorrow goes.

Betwixt and Between

Where to begin?  Why, at the beginning, of course.  This morning, I awoke in my own bed, but the tour is not over.  Of course, I was glad to be home with my wife and son, but I worried that I would mix my home routines with my tour routines and leave something at home that I would need on the road.  (So far, I don't think my fear has been realized.)  Maureen drove me to the motel after breakfast.  There I met my pastor, Fr. Michael Farano, a photographer from the diocesesan newpaper, and some folks from CC, all as expected.  After Fr. Farano offered a prayer for the safety of the cyclists, a TV reporter asked for some time with me, which I gave him in order to boost the fundraiser for CC.  Then, Bishop Hubbard arrived to wish me well and we had a nice chat and posed for photos.  These were all conversations I was happy to have, but they led to my leaving the motel last of all the riders for the 76 mile ride over the Green Mountains to Brattleboro, VT.  Temperatures were seasonable, the sky was blue with fair weather cumulus clouds, and the winds were behind us - yet another great day to ride!  About five miles into the ride, at the bottom of the hill climbing up from the Hudson River in Troy, I found Scott Logan with his bike upside down.  His chain had wedged in his crank, much like mine had at the bottom of the hill climbing up from the Mississippi River in Quincy, IL.  So we began to take apart his crank in order to free the chain.  We were soon joined by Noreen Macklin, Meredith Johnson and Ron Wilson who came back down the hill to see what had happened to Scott.  We completed the fix and all got under way about a half hour later.  At the 12-mile point, Clark of CrossRoads told us we were 45 minutes behind the next rider in front of us.  So we resolved to ride together at a comfortable pace and see what the day might bring.  We started one of my favorite local roads, the 9-mile rolling ride on Tamarac Road from Clums Corner to Boyntonville, when a school bus, soon followed by two more, came up behind us but could not pass on the narrow hilly road.  In an effort to be courteous, we turned off the road into a driveway, but we were immediately followed by the three buses ... into the bus depot yard.  Some days, you can't win for trying.  This put us into a silly mood and reconfirmed our expectation that we would finish the day's ride last of all the riders, an expectation confirmed when were were last into the first SAG stop.  With such a relaxed attitude, we lingered for pictures at the Vermont state line.  We passed multi-hued flowers and a display of tree stumps chain-sawed into bears.  As we rode to the Bennington Battlefield Monument, we found Ken Zika and Paula Farmer and invited them to join our Caboose Club.  We detoured a few yards off the route to visit Robert Frost's grave where his epitaph reads "I had a lover's quarrel with the world."  My ambitions to be last crumbled on the seven-mile climb out of Bennington.  Then, there was a wonderful descent to Wilmington on which I hit 46.6 mph, even though I was holding back in order not to crash during the last three days of the tour.  Following the second SAG stop, there was a four mile climb up Hogback Mountain with its advertised "100-mile view."  There, in southeastern Vermont, my aunt and uncle from northwestern Vermont surprised me.  I told them that a week ago I had told Maureen that I was ready for the tour to be over, but now I am not so sure.  Then followed another long exhilarating descent, this time into Brattleboro.  I was torn about how to entitle my blog post today.  Should it be "Dandelions, Tiger Lilies and Wooden Bears, Oh My!" for the sights we saw on the way out of NY?  Should it be "The Road Taken, or Not Taken" for our detour to the Frost grave?  Because of this indecision and the mixed emotions I'm experiencing in the last days of the tour, I settled - as you see - on something else.  Tomorrow is our last full day of riding, 80-some miles from Vermont, through the hills of southern New Hampshire, and into our final state, Massachusetts.

Charity Resumes at Home

Monday, we rode 78 miles from Liverpool in suburban Syracuse to Little Falls, NY.  It was cool all day, with morning cloud burning off at mid-day, with smooth pavement and light tailwinds.  I rode most of the way to the first SAG stop with Janie Bender, Mary Ann Daly, Darryl English and Linda Kasper, then rode solo to the second SAG stop set up by Catholic Charities in Marcy, just before Utica.  It was great to see Betsy, Ben and Terry from CC and to introduce them to my biking friends.  Ben's brownies were a particular hit.  After route rap and dinner in the Little Falls motel, many of us walked to the 40 foot high lift lock in the NYS Barge Canal to watch a recreational boat being lowered on its downstream journey.  Then we found ice cream at a shop in a restored mill building next to the Mohawk River.  Another great day on and off the bike.

Tuesday, was another great biking day - cool, overcast giving way to sun, smooth roads and a tailwind - for our 69 mile ride to my hometown of Latham in suburban Albany.  We were joined in Little Falls by Roger Markovics of CC in Albany who rode with us.  For a guy on a mountain bike who has not been averaging 80 miles a day for the last six weeks, he stayed pretty close to us.  Good going Roger!  CC again set up a second SAG stop for us, this time in Scotia.  Over three dozen people were there to greet us and to supply us with snacks and drinks.  It was a real lift to our spirits.  From there, I led a group of about twenty riders on an alternative 15-mile route to Latham, linking two sections of the bike path along the Mohawk River by going through the historic Stockade section of Schenectady, and rejoining the CrossRoads route about three miles from the motel.  At the point of "rejoinder," I met some family and friends, then pedalled the last three miles to the motel to meet wife Maureen, son Tom and still more friends.  We loaded my bike and luggage into our mini-van for the four mile ride from the motel to my home where I'll spend the night.

Tomorrow, we ride out of NYS into Vermont.  Just three more states, three more days, and 181 more miles to the wheel dip in Boston.  I can hardly believe it.

Drumlins before the Mohawk

Today, we rode 68 miles from Canandaigua to Liverpool in suburban Syracuse, NY.  It was another sunny, cool day with tailwinds on good roads.  The cycling life can be good!  Tomorrow, we will pedal out of the Great Lakes basin into the Mohawk River valley which flows east into the Hudson which in turn flows south into the Atlantic Ocean.  But today on our west-to-east route, we rode up, over and down numerous hills formed 10,000 years ago by the melting glaciers which left deposits of stones, forming north-south ridges.  These deposits are generally called moraines, and they often take the form of overturned canoes, now covered with grass and trees, called drumlins.  Tomorrow, we ride to Little Falls.

XC08 - Mile 3K

Sometime on our 93-mile Saturday ride from Hamburg to Canandaigua, we reached the 3,000 mile mark.  CrossRoads had some cheerleaders and signs about 24 miles into the ride: I calculated it to be about 78 miles into the ride.  I'll try to reconcile the figures after the tour.  In any event, it is amazing and satisfying to think that we have propelled ourselves so far and that we are now less than a week and 400 miles from our goal.  The day started cool and sunny with a tailwind on good roads, all ideal for cycling.  At mile 42, by pre-arrangement, I met my Adirondack mountaineering buddies, Bill Crowe and Paul Sheneman, who rode with me the last 51 rolling miles to the motel.  At the second SAG stop in Avon, other hiking friends - Shae Hanford and Bill Lindenfelser - came to see us.  Bill, Paul and I finished the ride before a thunderstorm rolled in from the west, but some of the other riders had to take shelter along the road and they and some others got wet.  My sisters, Julie and Mary, and Mary's husband Paul, picked me up at the motel to go to Mass at St. Mary's church in Canandaigua where the music was provided by an organist and soprano cantor.  Then the four of us met my sister, Liz and our mother for a very nice dinner near the shore of Canandaigua Lake.  The day marked some "lasts."  It was the last Saturday ride and the last scheduled 90+ mile ride of the tour.  But somehow I think we have not yet seen the las adventure.

Lakeshore Limited Caught by Slug; Rider Rep Sags

Overnight rain cleared by dawn so we left Erie, PA under cool, mostly sunny skies, with a SW tailwind for our 78 mile ride to Hamburg, NY.  We mostly followed US Route 5 between Interstate 90 and the SE shore of Lake Erie.  Generally, the shoulder in both states was wide and smooth.  But there was an unfortunate exception in the Township of Northeast, PA.  There was a lip and groove between the concrete slabs of the travel lane and the shoulder.  Apparently, Paula Farmer of CA caught a tire at that rough transition and went down hard, banging her hip and helmet.  She went to the hospital, but has been discharged with abrasions ("road rash" to cyclists) and no fractures.  There's no good time for a crash, but it seems a special shame to crash in the last week of the tour.  We all hope she can ride again soon.  Except for Paula's misfortune, most folks had a good ride.  The weather was fair, with wonderful views of vineyards and of Lake Erie.  About 19 miles into the ride, we crossed the stateline into New York.  It feels great to be in my home state and nearing the goal toward which we've ridden for six weeks.  About 40 miles into the ride, my rear tire went flat.  The tire had a two inch jagged slit in it, probably inevitable after nearly 3,000 miles of wear.  I laid the bike in the roadside grass as we worked on the replacing the tire and tube.  When the bike was reassembled and ready to roll, I found a slug on the front wheel.  Perhaps NYS slugs are fast, or maybe the mileage is slowing me down.  In any event, I found it amusing that I was overtaken by a slug.  Tomorrow, our ride to Canandaigua is our last 90+ mile ride of the tour.  I expect to meet some friends on bikes for the second half of that ride and to meet my mother and three sisters for dinner.

It's Erie, Resting in the East

Wednesday, we did the fourth of four consecutive long rides (103, 97, 91 and now 89 miles) across Ohio, this time not so hilly and this time from Niles to Erie, PA.  The morning was cool (mid-50s) and wet with intermittent rain showers and - even when it was not raining - with puddle spray thrown up by bikes and motor vehicles.  Most days, we've been pedalling east, so a northwest wind would be somewhat favorable.  But this day, we rode mostly north into a quartering NW headwind.  For a resident of the northeastern US like me, the scenery was not exotic.  The weather was glum.  We're getting tired.  So the ride was, for the most part, not particularly exhilarating.  But when I rode a bridge over Interstate 90 in Conneaut, OH, it seemed to me we are getting close to home.  East of Conneaut, I-90 becomes the NYS Thruway, leading to Albany, and then the Massachusetts Turnpike, leading to Boston.  The sun came out about noon as we pedalled into Pennsylvania, past lake shore vineyards, and into Erie where Maureen was waiting at our downtown hotel.  Wednesday night, we went across the street to see the Erie Playhouse production of "Sherlock Holmes: the Final Adventure."  Good show.  Thursday, is a planned rest day.  Then we have eight more days of cycling to the finish.  Thanks to all so far for your prayers and good wishes, your financial support of Catholic Charities, and your comments on the blog.  Lets bring it on home now.

Old Home Day

Today, we rode 91 miles from Wooster to Niles, OH under cool (50s and 60s), overcast skies that occasionally spit a little rain on us.  The first third of the ride was hilly, then it flattened as we rode from the Ohio River basin which drains to the Gulf of Mexico into the Great Lakes basin which drains to the North Atlantic.  In the first part of the ride, many of the street names were familiar (Back Orrville, Apple Creek, Back Massillon, Strausser and Wales, for example) because they led to homes of my aunts, uncles and cousins.  I rode exuberantly in these hills, charging up and down in my highest gears.  Later, perhaps because I left the family stomping grounds, the pavement was rougher, the scenery was flatter, or maybe because I had been OVER-exuberant, I rode more slowly.  While waiting for a traffic light to change, I was engaged in conversation by three teenage boys who wanted to cycle with me for a bit.  They were astonished by, and enthusiastic about, the ride we are doing.  But their 15-inch wheels and single gears could not keep up with my full-sized, 30-speed bike, even when I throttled back.  Too bad!  I would have enjoyed their enthusiasm for a while longer.  The rest of my ride was uneventful, except that I overshot the motel by over a mile and a half before I was sure I needed to turn around.  Tomorrow, we ride to Erie, PA where Maureen will join me for our last planned rest day of the tour.