I begin with a small apology. This first post since riding
is coming later than I intended. In the time since I last wrote we began our
ride across the Golden Gate, traveled across 6 states over around 40 different
stops. In total we’ve cycled nearly 2,500 miles of our approximately 4,000 mile
trip. More importantly, we’ve stopped for countless friendship visits, from the
ARC of Northern California, Nebraska, and Iowa, to Special Olympics in every
state, to the Boys and Girls Club of Nevada and Colorado, to MDA in Colorado,
to Spina Bifida in Nebraska, Iowa, and Wisconsin. I’ve been interviewed on a
radio show and for a news station, competed in a paddle-boarding race, slept in
recognized ghost towns, and been to the University of Iowa and Nebraska beyond the
many sponsored events we have attended along the way.
To make things more crazy, I'm currently in Milwaukee, WI.
Type that into Google maps and be blown away by how gigantic but small this
country can be.
What I’m trying to say is that I’ve been pretty busy. We
wake up nearly every morning by 5:30 AM to get on the road by 6:30 AM. After
the rides, exhaustion sets in… and any bits of free time are quickly lost to a
quick shower and power nap. Shortly afterwards the team is dressed and ready in
our “team tux” (team shirt, khaki shorts) for volunteering that afternoon and
evening. At these friendship visits the last of our energy is generally
expended. If not there, then any collection of sponsored meals or events will
take the last of it, and if not there, then at any mess of things you get into
in these towns and communities – be it a senior-junior high school powderpuff
football game in Jackson, CA, or a rock concert in Carson City, NV, or a night
out in Milwaukee.
So exhaustion plus the simultaneously frustrating and
liberating lack of internet access has doubled to make upkeep of the blog a
difficult task. That being said, I love to keep people updated. Additionally,
since one of the themes of this trip is raising awareness, I take updating you
all as a personal goal. To that end, for the times that I cannot update you, a
few crewmembers are tasked with documenting the trip. Check
out our Flickr page, which has great pics of the ride thus far and is organized
by day and is now linked on the right. Hopefully my descriptions on the blog will help elucidate what’s
actually going on in those pictures.
When I talk about the ride I’ll use the days as they are
labeled in our grids – Day 1 referring to the first day of orientation. So when
I say Day 6, I actually refer to our 2nd day of riding, and Day 5, our first
day of riding. We are now headed in to Day 49. I’m going to post as many as I
can tonight, and I’ll be following up with more as soon as I can. I can safely
say that where I was at the beginning of this trip is nowhere near where I am
now - in the way I feel about life and ability and challenge. I hope I can
bring you up to speed on that soon. Also, photos are to come... I'll add those as
I can.
Most importantly, see this as nothing more than an update.
The number of friendship visits has increased substantially since reaching
Colorado. We had 4 in one day today in Milwaukee. Entire stops have been
dedicated to the volunteering visits Journey of Hope has there annually. Cue
Grand Island, NB and Davenport, IA to add to Milwaukee. I can't wait to sit
down and flesh these out.
DAY 5: San Francisco to Napa
Day 5 was our kickoff from San Francisco – an incredible
place to start any journey. We woke early at our hotel in San Rafael and drove
south to the south entrance of the Golden Gate Bridge near Fort Point. The
morning was brisk – a cold marine layer hung over the water and shore, making
the morning frigid and visibility low. The spires of the Bridge could barely be
made out through the dense fog.
Gathering together at the foot of the Golden Gate, the mood
was upbeat and anxious. After breakfast, a short prayer, and some final parting
words with friends and family, we lined up to depart across the bridge. Waving
goodbye to Mom, Dad, Ryan, and Trent, we pushed off, the bite of the frigid
wind immediately bringing tears to my eyes.
The bridge is magnificent – and the gravity of the situation
made the excursion even more momentous. I still remember those first pedals
onto the bridge, the shiver against the intense chill, the whirr of tires
against cold pavement, the mechanistic chatter of chains through derailleurs,
and the wonderful view with its terrifying height and incredible history. I savored
each moment on the bridge till the moment the ocean was out of sight. Then,
adrenaline pumping, I let out a bellowing yell, sprinting forward into the
country: “LET’S GOO!!”
On the north side of the bridge we broke up into pacelines,
which are groups of 2-3 riders. The pacelines serve two functions – first increasing
safety by bringing attention to the group (power in numbers), and secondly,
helping to share the workload, as the front rider takes the brunt of the work
until he calls to “fall back,” essentially bringing him to the back of the
paceline where he can rest and draft behind the other two riders ahead of him.
That day I rode with Bryce Whitehill, a sophomore Mechanical Engineer from
Colorado State University, also a graduate of Cherry Creek High School, class
of 2012. We were both solid riders and took the flats up into San Rafael
quickly, followed by a several mile uphill to the junction for Napa. After a
few uphill runs we met up with some riders who were out for a training ride
from San Rafael. They were pulling a good pace so we lined up behind them for a
draft.
Napa is an incredible place, amplified by its glamorous and
pompous lifestyle. Likewise, biking is a fantastic time to discuss, anything
from family, fraternity, school, girlfriends, and life. As we passed beautiful
vineyard after vineyard, ogling at the residents out on porches of magnificent
castles, we found ourselves contemplating the lifestyle a place like Napa
Valley would bring.
We arrived in the city later that day, at a hotel where we
would be staying the night. The city was pretty lively already – there was a
music festival going on that weekend down the road. While there was little time
for concerts, we did have time to make a trip to a local bike shop for repairs.
The old mechanic at the shop laughed when we told him it was our first day on
the road on a cross-country trip. With five bikes in evident disrepair and
several instances of road-rash from falls earlier in the day, he smirked: “Good
luck boys!”
After the shop we went out to a local park to have a potluck
with Special Olympics of Northern California. Hundreds of people were already
there by the time we arrived, and we quickly dispersed to meet the people
around the park. It was our first real volunteering experience as a team in the
trip mindset, and it brought the gravity of the ride full-circle immediately.
The congregation was celebrating our arrival as well as the successful conclusion
of a season of the Special Olympics softball league in Napa, in which Special
Olympics athletes are paired with little-league players in fun,
semi-competitive baseball games. It was such an amazing time – the exhaustion
of the day of riding immediately disappears. Suddenly the aches and pains are
gone and all that is left is laughter and smiles. One of the families put on a
mini-powwow for the group, and we all were able to join in and dance to the
beat of the drums as a glorious sun set over the hills beyond.
DAY 6: Napa to Sacramento
The ride out of Napa was beautiful – a cool morning in the
low-lying areas broke into dense fog as we climbed up and out of the Napa
valley. The climb was fairly steep and winded up through rising forests that
alternated with smaller green vineyards.
My paceline – Gordon and Michael Potts – had decided to
sweep that day, so we stuck at the back and waited for those ahead of us to get
up the hill, causing us to stop several times to allow the groups ahead to
regain enough distance between our own. As we crested the hill, the dense fog
grew, narrowing our visibility significantly. Bundling up at the crew van that
was parked at the summit, we took off on a long downhill towards the Sacramento
Valley that turned from forest to hills and brushland. Following a river, we
eventually broke out on to the flats of the valley, opening into acres of
farmland leading toward the city.
Sacramento is an interesting city in context of the
gargantuan cities and municipalities of other areas in California. It is large,
but also quaint and airy compared to the stuffiness you feel sometimes in Los
Angeles and San Francisco. We rode into lunch down at the American River where
the parents of a few past riders donated sandwiches from a local favorite shop.
Having eaten our fill, we eventually passed out on the grass in the park.
After the short rest we straddled our bikes again in
preparation for our first arrival at the California state capital building.
Arrivals in the Journey of Hope are a pretty massive undertaking, involving the
orderly procession of 25 cyclists along with 6 crew vans. In order to give the
arrival some degree of pizzazz and order, we cyclists align into “double pace
lines” where all riders line up in formation behind one vehicle in two separate
lines. While normally we act as one giant vehicle, obeying traffic laws in
unison like the multitude parts of a centipede, traffic will occasionally be
stopped by a brave crewmember or, in some special cases, a police escort.
On this particular arrival we lined up at the park and rode
together towards the capital building, which was about a mile away. Sadly, we
hit light after light down the main drag toward the capital, which ruined the
suspense of the event pretty significantly. Despite this, at the capital was a
group waiting for us, cheering and waving.
That afternoon we went to a local park to shower that had
offered to open it’s showers for us, and then went over to lodging, a local
church.
The evening was busy with a trip to the Southside Art Center, a center
that provides art and employment opportunities for disabled adults. The drive
over involved a few wrong turns, but eventually we had the team together and
assembled in the parking lot. We made our way into the entrance for a nice
salad and pizza meal, and took some time to tour the facility and meet a group
of members who were performing to us that evening. Following dinner we packed
up the tables and turned the cafeteria into a giant dancefloor. At the end of
the room was a drumset, microphones, and a keyboard.
I had met Matthew, one of the members of the Southside Arts
Center, earlier. While I was unsure of his exact condition, it is hard to
exxagerate how incredible he was. Sitting at the table, with me he could barely
eat – he was blind and struggled with dexterity in some of his fingers. Yet he
loved music, and found the sensual aspects of music to be as stimulating as
seeing is to our eyes. When the band and choir went up to play, he sat down at
the keyboard and dazzled us with an entire set of beatifully crafted tunes. As
his fingers danced along the keys he cracked jokes, warmed up the crowd, and
egged us on. As we jumped and danced my heart warmed. It was incredible. Easily
the most lively concert I had ever been to. We had brought the atmosphere, the
live concert venue that all these people had dreamed of playing in, and they
had brought us laughter, happiness, and good vibes. The finale was “Lollipop,”
and as they sang they threw out lollipops for us to head home with.
Afterwards KQ, our project manager, rewarded the entire team
with ice cream from McDonald’s, the perfect post-ride recovery dessert.
That night I also met up with Chris Bayliss, a 2012 graduate
from our Duke PiKapp chapter. It was nice to spend time with a familiar face. He’ll
be heading out from his job at the Army Corps of Engineers to NYC in the next
few months to pursue a job in finance. It was good to hear his perspectives on
the move, and also reflect on my own goals post college.
DAY 7: Sacramento to Jackson
The ride out of Jackson immediately opened up into golden
California fields and rolling hills. I was riding with Chase and Tony, recent
graduates of NJIT and University of Cincinnati. The ride was mostly flat but
for a few larger hills and so we kept good pace along a narrow shoulder busy
with cars and full of debris. Because of our fast pace, at one point when Chase
was having trouble shifting into his big chainring I pulled our line off to the
side of the road and retensioned his front derailer – whatever it took to keep
us moving.
The final stretch consisted of a larger climb leading into a
long, straight decent that fed into Jackson. Jackson is a sizable community
originally supported by a booming mining operation consisting of the (at the
time) largest mine in California. As we arrived we aggregated in a parking lot
at the bottom of the hill which lay just inside the city, waiting for the
police escort that would mark our arrival into the city and our volunteering
visit at the ARC of Amador and Calaveras
Counties.
When the escort arrived we arranged into our double paceline
and began our ride through town to the ARC of Amador and Calaveras Counties.
Pulling in we circled out around the ARC facility a few times, riling up the
crowd. We then pulled into a single file out front of the main facility for an
introduction and handshakes.
We then dispersed into a large potluck, complete with hot
dogs and an assortment of americana. As we ate we sat and mingled with the
members of the ARC, who encompassed a range of developmental disabilities. One
requested we called him Elvis. When we did he broke out into an Elvis stance
and started bellowing out classic Elvis quotes. While not all the clients were
lively, they did have a constant smile, bringing a happy and airy mood to the
open patio and community.
Eventually we said our goodbyes and left the ARC for our
lodging, a local high school which involved a steep climb to Argonaut High
School where we slept in the main basketball gym. After setting up our bedding,
dinner that night was provided by the local Lions Club at a nearby diner. The
old guys there cracked a few dad/grandpa jokes, the kind you sort of laugh at
if you catch them but normally don’t realize they even happened.
That evening we returned to Argonaut. Earlier we had seen
some rehearsing by the mens football team for a little dance routine, so we
went down to the football field to check it out. We walked in with the 5 member
band from the gym into the annual senior/junior Powderpuff football game. We
joined the stadium seating, a few metal bleachers on the side of the field,
along with high schoolers and their parents. It seemed like most of the small
community of Jackson was out for the game. While we stuck out like sore thumb
on those bleachers, we relished in one of our first experiences in small town
America, the first of many to come.
DAY 8: Jackson to Tahoe
Jackson to Tahoe is heralded as one of the biggest rides of
the entire JOH North trip – a one day conquering of the Sierras, over 12,000
feet of climbing over 3 large mountain passes ending in the final decent and
finish into Lake Tahoe. Every year people talk about the completion of Kirkwood
Canyon like the parting of the seas. It is monumental. It is a rite of passage.
We woke up early at Argonaut High School and packed our
bags. From Argonaut we rode back down to the diner we had eaten at the night
before, a long time sponsor of the Journey of Hope. As we feasted on a
breakfast buffet of pancakes, eggs, sausage, and bacon we sifted through the
pictures the owner had set out for us from decades of past JOH meals at the
diner. It was uplifting and inspiring to see the pictures from years past of
those preparing for the conquering of the same 12,000 feet we would be
embarking on. Following breakfast we lined up for a photo and then pushed off.
Ethan and I left at the back of the pack, determined to ride ourselves to the
front by the end of the day.
The ascent started about 10 miles in to the 95 mile ride,
and was relentless for about 30 miles until we reached the top of the first
pass, Carson Spur. Following that came a steep downhill into another ascent to
Carson Pass, and then another steep descent and ascent up Luther Pass to then
end in a final descent into South Lake Tahoe. The ride epitomized the beauty of
the California Sierras.
As we climbed from Jackson the topography and flora changed
drastically, from desert and farmland to evergreens, the air cooling as we
ascended. As we watched the elevation signs change from 4,000 to 5,000 to 6,000
to 7,000 to 8,000 our legs screamed, depleted by the constant spinning and
lowering oxygen levels.
At the top of each we were able to stop for some photos as
we were red flagged to wait for other vans to catch up and mark turns. The
views were incredible, an awesome treat in exchange for the burn we felt and
soreness we were soon to endure. Lunch stopped us at a similarly breathtaking
vista. The descents were the other reward – +50mph free falls into the abyss of
another deep mountain valley. Shake and bake baby.
Our final red flag came at the bottom of Luther Pass, where
we were forced to wait for a crew van to ride ahead to mark the next turns and
provide water. The long wait at mile 70 brought me one of the most agonizing
back cramps in memory, and forced me to pound some ibuprofen. Luckily Franny
(one of our crewmembers) gives incredible back massages, and combined with the
pain reliever, got me back on the bike for the final 20 miles.
Ethan and I set off again after the red flag, finishing our
final few mile climb as fast as possible, which then led into an 7 mile decent
into Tahoe. We finished right on the lake, with several groups just behind.
Shedding our bikes and tops, we jumped into the cold water of Lake Tahoe to
celebrate the finish. Easily one of the most memorable moments of the trip.
As we dried off a man named Chris walked up to us and, after
a little coaxing, got a few of us (Ethan, Warren, and I) to sign up for a
paddleboarding race that evening. We grabbed our paddleboards and headed out to
the lineup of the race, unsure of the course.
Turns out the course was 2.5 miles long and took around 45
minutes to complete. It started out as a friendly competition, but as I was
passed by 12 year old after 12 year old it started to become personal. That,
along with midway through the race the commentator jokingly calling me out on
the intercom for my “illegal racewear” (my Push chamois) inspired me to pull a
little harder.
By the end of the race I was in the bottom half, but
finished respectably ahead of a few guys my age. Turns out that was good enough
for 3rd place in my division, and at the ceremony I was called up to
the platform to collect my award. As I walked to the podium the commentator
(who had been giving me a hard time earlier), handed me the microphone, asking
me to explain exactly why I was wearing those “funky” shorts, and why there
were so many other guys wearing them. I gave the pitch to the couple hundred
people sitting there, and got a nice applause afterwards.
At the end of the awards is a final presentation for “The
Most Awesome” racer. Chris, the owner of the local paddleboarding shop and race
organizer went up to the podium to present the award. Explaining how he coaxed
us all into joining the race despite our 95 mile journey, he awarded us three
participants (and the rest of the team) the “Most Awesome” paddle, which has
now taken a permanent place in Van 4. We’ll be sure to take a photo with it in
DC to send back to the guys in Tahoe.
Following the race we headed over to a local Chinese buffett
that had been sponsored by a JOH alum. We stuffed our faces and then set off to
the Seven Seas Inn, our lodging for the night, looking forward to our day off
in Tahoe.
DAY 9: Off in Tahoe
The morning of our day off I set off early with Fran and KB
(two crewmembers) to a radio interview that our exploits at the paddleboarding
race had prompted. The interview lasted around an hour, and ended up being
broadcasted twice that day. I was sure to call my parents beforehand so they
could listen online live.
Following the interview we set out to the lake for some more
paddleboarding, as well as waterskiing courtesy of a local Pikapp alum who
owned a ski-boat. While I made it out for a few pulls, my legs were lacking
quite a bit of stamina… and shortly after I got in I was back in the boat,
ready to head back to the beach.
Back on the beach I took out one of the rental paddleboards
and spent some time with some of the kids from the race the day before. One of
the obstacles set up in the shallow water is a limbo stick/hippy jump. While
initially we spent the first few minutes trying the limbo on the paddleboards,
we quickly learned that the hippy jump offered even more good times. We
practiced our jumps until we had to return the boards that afternoon, after
which we made our way to a local campsite where we were staying the night to
set up some borrowed tents.
For dinner we went to a sponsored meal at the Blue Angel
Café. The family that owns the restaurant has been sponsoring the team for
quite some time. Initially the meal was sponsored by an entire cycling club in
Tahoe, but as the members came and went the family decided to permanently take
matters into their own hand. Along with packing the paper bag lunches we had
that afternoon, they also took it upon themselves to cook us a wonderful pasta
dinner. Their little children scuttled around our tables as we ate, amplifying
the already homey, mountain atmosphere of the café. Dinner was fantastic.
We had heard earlier that day that there was a hockey rink
near our campsite where a local mens league would be playing that night. After watching a beautiful sunset over the water, we got together a large group to go watch. We
eventually split our guys into two sets of fans – one for the dark team and one
for the white team – and made sure to give the men’s league players the best
fans they’d seen since high school.
DAY 10: Tahoe to Carson City
The morning of Day 10 marked our first state line. Crossing
into Nevada was only a few blocks into the ride, demarcated by the large casino
on the other side of South Lake Tahoe. Eventually the road looped up a large
ascent that eventually curved into a steep, fast several mile downhill into the
fringes of Carson City, the capital of Nevada.
Arriving before lunch, we headed over to the local
Children’s Museum to play and give our first of many presentations called “Kids
on the Block.,” a puppet show that is geared towards younger children, that
introduces several types of disabilities in a fun, interactive skit. While I
can’t say the first was a success… it did provide some good laughs and
entertainment.
From the show we left to our lodging, the ROTC building of
Carson High School, and then geared up for an arrival at the Boys and Girls Club of Carson City. There we
ate lunch with the kids, and then had another KOB presentation. There were so
many there it made the time pass in an instant. I met a nice young kid named
Colin who clung to me for most of the visit. At the end I was a little taken
aback when he told me he wished I were his dad. I’d never considered myself old
enough to be seen as a fatherly figure.
Following the Boys and Girls club (and after a short block
of free time), came our final friendship visit at a local community college.
There, an aid read a proclomation from the governor, announcing that our
arrival in Nevada that day signaled the beginnning of statewide declaration of
“Push America Week.” The rest of the visit involved tabling from a multitude of
state organizations supporting those with disabilities, as well as food,
karaoke, and a raffel, which was eventually dominated by a little girl who
became the happy recipient of our entire team’s pool of raffel tickets.
That evening a crew of us went out in Carson City to a
concert that was going on downtown. The band (Baker Street) was a local
favorite, performing in their last concert. The crowd was older (much older)
but we had a great time, and eventually found the few others of college age at
the event. Turned out that the lead guitarist had been their soccer coach in
high school at Carson High, which made the entire night a pretty humorous
coincidence.
DAY 11: Carson City to Fallon
The day to Fallon spelled our first day in the Nevada
desert. The morning’s breakfast was provided by a local volunteer club back at
the Children’s Museum, a rich breakfast of pancakes, sausage, and fruit. There
is no such thing as eating light on JOH.
A short climb early on out of Carson brought us out into the
desert, which rolled out until we reached Fallon, our first “smaller” town of
many small towns to come. The day also signified our first day on Highway 50,
the first of many to come on the so-called “Loneliest Highway in America.”
Our lodging that evening was at a local high school
(Churchill County High School) known as the Greenwave. I had ridden with Jake
Rofojo from CU Boulder and Thomas Fisher from Purdue, two stronger riders.
While the beginning of the ride was fairly fast, the end slowed down
significantly, allowing us some time for conversation. We ended up getting in
fairly early, and took the extra time to walk down to Dairy Queen and get some
Blizzards after the ride.
Returning to the high school we sat back for some rest.
Sadly the nap was abruptly disturbed by a rehearsal for a dance recital that
(by fate) would be occuring in the gym adjacent to us that evening. As the platoons
of children stepped through their routines, the deep bass of the Pink Panther
Theme Song rocked the floor and our eardrums, making any chance for rest nearly
impossible.
Eventually we roused and packed in the cars to our
friendship visit with the Humboldt Shredders. While we originally had
anticipated them to be a wheelchair basketball team, we found out earlier that
day that they were instead a group of developmentally disabled who had originally
been employed as shredders at a local company. Their work had since changed to
the daily maintaining of a thrift and craft store in the area, under guidance
by volunteers. The group had prepared an enormous potluck for us at a local
church, and we gorged ourselves on the hearty food, while meeting the members
of the Shredders.
Following dinner came another karaoke session. The man who
brought the karaoke machine seemed like a local legend. Beyond the pompous
reception, he flaunted an air of narcissim... His computer desktop cycled
through a full album of pictures of himself from the 80’s, complete with his
young flowing locks and tan skin – the golden years. When dinner wrapped up, he
took the liberty to start karaoke himself, and opened by singing his own
rendition of “God Bless The USA” with heavy passion and pizzazz. The rest of
the night ended up being quite the party, capped off by a group who went up to
sing Dance by David Bowie. One of the singers hadn’t realized that the
“Instrumental Breaks” presented on the karaoke screen weren’t meant to be sang
into the microphone, and when the “54-bar Instrumental Break” message popped up
the screen, he sang the phrase slowly for a full minute and a half to
complement the guitar solo.
Full with the heartiest of meals, we returned home to get
rest before our first 100 mile day.
DAY 12: Fallon to Austin
Fallon to Austin was our first century ride – a ride over
100 miles. We woke up early, around 6am, to get on the road as early as
possible. The morning was fairly warm and the air was still. That, combined
with a flat but steady decline for the first 20 miles kept the pace incredibly
fast. I also was riding with Warren from Cal State Long Beach and Chris from
ASU, two very solid riders.
At mile 25 or so, right when we had reached the
all-too-familiar parts of Highway 50 again, we were pulled off the road by the
vans. Ahead, crew and cyclists were walking out into what appeared to merely be
an expansive salt flat. However, as we looked down and inspected the lower
shoulder, we saw an obvious arrangement of rocks, spelling out “JOH.” As we
learned, it has been a tradition for over 25 years for the Journey of Hope to
rearrange the rocks on that lonely shoulder on Highway 50, and so we spent time
rearranging the rocks into our own shrine and momento, into the shape of “JOH
2014.” To add a little emphasis to the garden, we added a few more rocks,
turning to the arrangement to “JOH 2014?” One of many inside jokes I can’t even
begin to explain to you on a blog.
The rest of the ride consisted of typical Nevada riding.
Mountain pass followed by extensive 20 mile basin, so long but so straight you
can nearly see the end. So large it makes you feel like a speck on the earth. We
climbed several over the course of the day, including the final climb into
Austin, which consisted of a steep two-mile climb up to the church/town hall we
were staying that night.
Showering at the local pool, we jumped in and started to
talk with the lifeguards there. Most were younger than us, and so we asked them
about the town and high school. The high school, we learned, has but 5
students, one of which just graduated this year, bringing the entire town
population out to a local restaurant to celebrate. The rest of the kids in the
area are there only for the summer to spend time with the grandparents to
explore the hills and trails nearby. The town of Austin, once a booming mining town, now has
only a population of 192, most of which living in the rural areas surrounding
the main town. The size was obvious (and our existence obviously intrusive)
when we rolled 30 deep to the local milkshake shop. The man behind the counter
made a chocolate, washed the whole machine, made a strawberry, rinsed the whole
machine, made another chocolate, rinsed the whole machine… absolutely not the
model of efficiency. It took over an hour to serve those patient enough to
wait.
That evening dinner was provided by a crew of ladies from
the area who came together to cook us an incredible potluck of turkey,
stuffing, and potatoes, along with a fleet of desserts. They were hilarious,
and their energy and personality really brought the whole town to life. The
good food was a huge boost to our moral.
Following dinner, a few of us left to a local bar (the only
local bar) and grabbed a few drinks. The bar was very old, originally opened in
1842, and smelled strongly of must and soot. There was a pool table at the
back, surrounded by what appeared to be a mess of home storage, including a
generator, which he used to power a few lights. Along all the walls were
stapled dollar bills, and we took a moment to write our own and staple it to
the wall as a momento of the trip. Like the bar, the bartender was a character,
a kooky old man who looked like Doc from Back to the Future and just as, if not
more, eccentric. Deflecting his obvious intoxication, we learned from him that
he acquired the bar 10 years back as part of a drunken business investment.
Business hadn’t been great. As we tried to strike up conversation, he remained
adiment in telling us that biking across the country would leave us all
sterile… What a nice old man…
We walked back that night from the bar a little spooked…
swearing that the whole place was straight out of some horror movie like “The
Hills Have Eyes.”
DAY 13: Austin to Eureka
We rode from Austin to Eureka, Nevada this morning. After
the century ride the day before, the pace was a tad slower, but the views just
as gorgeous. I’ve decided that you really need to be in a special state of mind
in order to appreciate and enjoy the raw beauty of Nevada. You bask in the
thrill of nothingness and the intense loneliness of relentless nature. While to
one eye the vistas and landscapes never change, ceaselessly boring and the
same, to another it brings an awesome appreciation. You are forced to
contemplate just how huge the world really is. On a bike averaging a steady 22
mph, you realize just what a tiny spec you are in the world around you. The
mountains are tall and foreboding, but in the morning light they splash the
most fantastic shadows. Every time you pull to the top of a ridgeline and look
out to see the next 20 miles of road lying ahead of you (in Nevada, you can see
for miles), you can either scream in agony – torn by the gnawing knowledge of
what efforts lie ahead – or smile in satisfaction at how lucky you are to see
the view you feel is only possible from an airplane.
That night we stayed in Eureka Elementary School, one of
many that we have stayed in since Sacramento. The gym floor reminded me of my
own elementary school gym back at Homestead. While not carpeted, it was
certainly a place to rest some weary legs.
We had a sponsored meal that evening by the Lion’s club of
Eureka. The Lion’s club has been sponsoring the Journey of Hope in Eureka for
22 years, and they let us sift through their collection of annual photos and
memorabilia from past trips through the town. The town is not large… amplified
when the city sheriff drove by the house, turned on the loudspeaker, and blared
out to our congregation on the front lawn: “So why wasn’t I invited?”
After dinner a few of the guys of age made our way down to a
historic hotel (1877) on one of the main corners in town to grab a beer. After
talking with a few locals, we made our way back to the school for our curfew.
DAY 14: Eureka to Ely
Eureka to Ely was one of the most entertaining rides of the
trip. I rode with two very sociable guys: Nick from the University of Toledo
and Aaron from ASU. The ride was around 80 miles with several large basins
followed by 3-4 longer climbs with moderate incline. The weather held nicely,
which was a plus, and Nick was incredibly fast on the downhills, which kept me
awake and my heart racing. The final descent into Ely turned into some slot
canyons which were a welcome change in scenery from the large basins covering
most of Nevada. As we descended through the canyon the town eventually slid out
on either side, and we coasted out through our first traffic light in several
days on Highway 50.
The town of Ely only comprises a few thousand, but in the
context of the last several towns, was substantially larger than what we had
experienced. Several convenience stores cropped up, including a city park and
some fast food restaurants. We climbed the final few hundred feet from Highway
50 off to the right towards White Pine High School where we were staying the
night.
After showering we went down to McDonalds. It was Ethan’s
birthday so we all bought him a little treat to celebrate – from myself, a warm
apple pie. It was a modern kid’s relief to have the taste of anything
reminiscent of familiarity again, and after several days of home-cooked meals
and potlucks, the familiar taste of processed food was eerily comforting.
Following the snack at McDonald’s we headed back to White
Pine High School to have dinner with the student council there at the school.
As we ate from the taco bar they provided, we discussed our trip and talked
about their future plans. Following dinner a few guys left to play volleyball
with the members of the student council, while another group left to play some
penny slots and low-blind blackjack at a local casino. As they say: when in
Nevada?
DAY 15: Ely to Baker
The ride into Baker from Ely was a windy one. We left White
Pine High School and turned right back on to Highway 50 for a 65-mile day.
After some flats we reached a steady climb. Along it we passed a couple who was
tandem cycling with full gear to Baker as well, making me feel a little more
energized to get up the climb and forget the pain in my thighs. After a steady
downhill we rolled out into basin again, where began the strongest headwind of
the trip. The basin was full of massive wind-turbines – generally a good sign
that you’re in store for some air resistance. Battling through the 15 miles of
basin was exhausting, but eventually led to a second climb up to Sacramento
Pass, elevation 7,154 ft. From the top you could see the first glimpses of
Great Basin National Park, and the top of Wheeler Peak, a +13,000-foot mountain
lying inside the park. The view from the crest of the pass was stunning.
Baker, Nevada is a small town tucked at the foot of the
Snake Range right on the Nevada-Utah border. The expansive ancient basin rises
quickly into the inclines of the foothills and peaks, casting stunning shadows
across the fields below. The 2010 census in Baker recorded 68 residents, around
half of which work for the National Park at Great Basin. We ate lunch at the
steps of the town hall we were staying at that night, and after a shower at the
Border Inn (A small gas-station, convenience store, and truck stop right on the
NV-UT border) that actually involved crossing the border, we took a nap and
prepared for a trip to the National Park.
Great Basin National Park is known for several things, among
them being its famous Lehman Caves, a cave network extending about 1.5 miles
into the mountainsides of the Snake Range. The group of us, after driving out
to a lookout point to see the Great Basin from 8,500ft, met at the visitor
center to prepare for a tour of the caves prepared for us by the town of Baker.
After getting a slew of milkshakes from the visitor center café, we divided
into two groups. The first group left on the tour about 15 minutes before the
second – of which I was a part of. Ranger Steve Moore was our guide – an older,
white-haired gentleman who reminded me of a children’s television narrator
every time he spoke. He flitted his eyes half-closed and darted his focus
around the cave, cracking practiced jokes, and building suspense with little
quips and quizzes. Leaving incredibly entertained and actually surprisingly
enlightened, we headed back to the town hall where we napped briefly before
dinner.
Dinner was prepared for us by the town of Baker, with
residents from all over bringing dishes and desserts. As always, I have been
incredibly thankful and blessed by the hospitality these towns have given our
team. The food was fantastic, and I learned many of the intricacies of Baker,
from day-to-day life, to water rights issues, to general town history. After
dinner I spoke with an older man named Mark, who gave me some great fishing
stories. He also has a teaching license in Utah, California, and Nevada, which
I found a unique facet. Ranger Steve was also there, having helped prepare the
meal. His funeral potatoes were delectable.
Following dinner Ranger Steve went back home to grab his 14”
telescope, and we took turns combing the night sky. Looking at Saturn and
Jupiter under a telescope completely changes the way you see the night sky.
There is so much above us, especially in a place like Baker, away from the
lights of the city. Basking in the glory of the universe, I started to see why
people would choose to live away from it all, in a place like Baker, Nevada.
DAY 16: Baker to Delta
It was a relatively early morning leaving Baker, NV for
Delta, UT. The ride in total was around 97 miles. I ended up riding with two
guys recovering from injury and illness: Derek and Bryce. As a result, our
paceline left towards the front in order to get a small head start on the rest
of the group. Only a few miles in we crossed the NV-UT border, and shortly
afterwards changed time zones from Pacific to Mountain Standard. We took a few
pictures as a beautiful sunrise came over the mountains at the far end of the
Great Basin – an ancient remnant of the Paleolithic lake that once covered much
of the west.
The scenery changed substantially as we continued into Utah,
from the mountains of Nevada to the red sandstone synonymous with much of the
state. After a few downhills and uphills, the mountains turned again
to basin, and we coasted on one of the most incredibly straight stretches of
the entire trip, flat for nearly 30 miles. Midway through the stretch a strong
tailwind began, pushing us easily into a pace of 25 to 30 mph without too much
physical exertion.
Sadly, a rider fell on this stretch, from unanticipated
large gust of tailwind that send him into the back tire of the rider in front
of him. While his fall was controlled away from oncoming traffic, his fall on
the shoulder left him with serious injuries. While he is now unable to ride the
rest of this summer, he has since returned back to the team as a crewmember to
finish out the summer.
The fall took quite a toll on the mood of the team, and cemented (even more so)
the importance of safety on the trip. It was agonizing to see a friend and
strong rider end his summer the way that it did, and I know that we will do
everything in our power to avoid a similar occurance in the future.
Delta is a larger town than Ely, and seemed to have a lively
population. We again were staying at a high school. This one was recently
renovated (actually still under construction), and only a few parts of the
school were open, which luckily included the basketball gym where we would be
staying. After showering we left to get lunch at Delta Freeze, a local burger
and shake joint with incredible food and milkshakes. After the meal we stepped
outside for a picture which was disturbed by a giant parade going on in the
street. As we asked those around us we learned that the parade was for the
rodeo that was occurring in Delta that weekend, starting that night. While
initially people had begun to make plans to go to the movies, we called an
audible, and a large contingent decided to hit up the rodeo instead.
The Rodeo was a trip. We hitchhiked our way down to the
fairgrounds, something I had never done in my life. As we watched event after
event, we realized how happy we were to be experience true small-town Americana
at its heart.
DAY 17: Delta to Salt Lake City
Delta to SLC was easily our most difficult day on the bike.
The route was 127 miles, following northeast up Highway 6 to the southwest end
of Utah Lake. There we turned north and followed the western edge of the lake
until we reached the edge of Salt Lake City, where we took surface streets in
towards the University of Utah and Zion Lutheran Church, our lodging for the
next two nights.
The ride started at first light in Delta. I pushed off in a
solid group with Bryce (CSU) and Drew (TCU) towards the back of the pacelines.
Within the first several miles a rider broke his derailleur hanger and
derailleur, several miles after that came a tough crash that ended the day for
another rider. After a long climb then followed by a 8-9 mile downhill came a
flat that initial offered an average speed of around 20-25 mph. Soon however, a
vicious headwind began, which continued for the last 50 miles of the ride, making
it one of the most exhausting legs of the trip. By the time we reached the
church I was too tired to eat the enchiladas Marga and Denis, a couple from the
church, had prepared us for lunch. Beyond that, I was ecstatic that we had
finally reached civilization again.
Following lunch we visited Camp
Kostopulos, a camp geared towards people with mental and physical
disabilities in the canyons near SLC. While we were too late to volunteer with
the camp members and my legs still feeling like Jell-O from the ride that
morning and afternoon, we were able make it around the camp on a short guided
tour, which was a nice introduction to one of the many amenities and
opportunities SLC provides to those with disabilities.
Following the tour, we came back to the church and rested in
preparation for a busy off day.
DAY 18: Off Day in Salt Lake City
We finally got a nice wake up time: 7am. After a short
pack-up, the vans left to a local park in Salt Lake City where we met up with TRAILS
(Therapeutic Recreation & Independent Lifestyles), an adaptive sports
organization that works in the Salt Lake area and provides free activities to
disabled members of the greater Salt Lake community. There, Casey, an
employee/volunteer who works jointly with the University of Utah Rehabilitation
Center gave a short introduction to the program and a few riders from the
organization. They had brought a slew of hand-bikes out to the park for us to
try, and along with the men from the program we raced them around the park for
an hour or so. I found the linking of TRAILS and The U to be particularly
interesting – they have hosted several projects through the engineering department
at Utah to enable disabled athletes, including a sailboat that can be operated
with only a joystick and a breathing tube.
After the morning we shipped out to a car wash to give all
the vans a much needed vacuum and rinse, and then made our way over to another
local church to meet a family and set of volunteers from the Children’s Tumor Foundation.
There we met Travis and his family (Father, Mother, and 2 older brothers).
Travis’ mother is now the president of CTF in Utah. CTF specifically works to
raise money for NF – neurofibromatosis– a disease in which those afflicted
carry tumors that extend on nerve cells over much of their body. Travis, only 6
years old, had a tumor that extended over half of his body – into his left leg,
up into his hip and abdomen. It hinders his movement considerably, and makes
his bones very susceptible to fracturing. When fractured, there is only a 50%
chance that the bone will heal, requiring him to wear a leg brace that
protected his left shin. At that age he had already been through two clinical
trials and countless studies through both universities and NIH.
Talking to him, you would never know it. But for his green
walker, he was a normal kid: full of boundless energy, talking up a storm,
dirtying his face with cake, yet remaining wise and curious beyond his years.
His father’s name was Scott, and so we had an instant connection. As his mother
teased him about remembering my name, she introduced me to his love of racing
and the several stories he has had with professional drivers. He asked to sit
next to me at lunch, so I helped him grab his plate of food before we took our
seats. The theme was Mexican, and like any young child, all he wanted was chips
with cheese on top. Luckily his mother’s brownies – nicknamed “Crack Brownies”
(because of how addicting they are) provided the rest of the vital nutrients
for a growing boy. As his mother gave a presentation to the rest of the group,
Travis asked me to take him to the bathroom as well. As we raced to finish and
get to the sink first, I couldn’t help but smile as I realized what a normal,
fun-loving kid he is.
Following lunch Travis grabbed his bike and asked that we
follow along with him. On our bikes, we paraded around the church as Travis
yelled out imaginary obstacles that the rest of the guys readily acted out for
him – car accidents, detours, left and right turns, traffic lights; whatever
his heart desired. I admired the patience and happiness his two older brothers
gave him. As an older brother myself, and considering all the mischief Ryan,
Trent, and I have caused, it can’t be easy to have a younger brother as fragile
as Travis. However, I left sure that they would grow up as incredibly humble,
grateful, and considerate men. You can follow Travis and his family’s story and
journey at their Facebook page, found here. Looking at the
description on the page you can see exactly what I mean:
Travis is affected by Neurofibromatosis
Type 1 (NF-1). T has an extensive, inoperable, infiltrative plexiform
neurofibroma that extends over 50% of his body length. T is a resilient kid
that brings a smile wherever he goes.
Good luck buddy, you’re smile will bring you and others further than you can
ever imagine.
Following the visit with CTF a few groups left to go on some
bike shop runs. I needed a new saddle so I went with a carload to a local shop
(Contender Cycles). Finishing there we walked over to the main part of town to
check out the Mormon Temple and Temple Square, which was fascinating. I would
highly recommend taking a tour of the upper terrace of the convention center at
Temple Square if you have a chance – the terrace, finished in 2000, captures
the flora that dwell in the 5 main biomes in Utah, and has won several awards
for its landscape architecture. After the bike shop we headed back to the Zion
Lutheran and then out to dinner at a local sports bar, compliments of an alumni
sponsor.
DAY 19: Salt Lake City to Park City
The ride from SLC to Park City was an easy one. We had a
10-mile uphill and then a 2-3 mile downhill to I-80, where we racked our bikes,
drove down the freeway a few miles to the next exit, and then road in the final
10 miles to Park City. The weather turned midway through the ride and the wind
became biting cold. Luckily the final stretch was short, and was eventually
sheltered by the mountains surrounding our route.
In Park City we were sponsored by The Yarrow hotel, which
was been supporting the Journey of Hope for quite a while. We moved our bikes
into the hotel, ate lunch, enjoyed a nice warm shower, and then changed for
some free time. Most of the group, including myself, took the free Park City
shuttle into town and walked around Main Street. A Sunday market was going on
and so the streets were crowded and lively. After grabbing some coffee with a
few of the guys, I sat down to do some work. Eventually another group found me
on the street busy at work, and after a few Duke nerd jokes I packed up and
wandered around with them the rest of the afternoon.
For dinner we were sponsored by a local restaurant and
brewery (Wasatch Brewery) where we had one of the best taco buffets I’ve ever
had. While we can’t drink alcohol at sponsored events, they also brewed root
beer along with their beer selection, and they brought pitchers of it to the
room for us all to try. Incredible stuff.
That evening we met up with a few of Jake’s girlfriends from
the University of Colorado who were working in Park City. They were living
together in one of the family’s condos, a beautiful spread with floor to
ceiling windows, a spacious family room, and a contemporary-style kitchen. Sitting
in the hot tub out back, looking up at the stars, with several great friends
and several beautiful women around, I wondered why I hadn’t just decided to do
this all summer…
DAY 20: Day off in Park City
We had another 7am wake up for our off day in Park City. If
you haven’t already realized, our off days are rarely “rest days.” Immediately
after our morning circle-up, we were off to a sponsored meal by a local Whole
Foods, who had cooked us a brilliant hot breakfast. From there we set off to
the Olympic Village at Park City, where we had been donated rides on both the
Alpine Slide and Zip-Line. The Olympic features have since been turned into
training facilities. We watched as skiers jumped into the pool from freestyle
kickers for quite a while before we departed to board the main lift to the activities.
After a quick nature walk at the top which included a “Ninja Course” (which we
all raced on), we got in line at the Alpine Slide. In front of us were a group
of families from FSU with their small children. After giving them a little bit
of a hard time about the ACC rivalry, they decided to donate money to the trip
after hearing us discuss our progress and experiences.
Following our time at the mountain we left to volunteer at
the National Ability Center, a
non-profit which provides training and equipment to get disabled out and active
again. From their website, the NAC “empowers individuals of all abilities
by building self-esteem, confidence and lifetime skills through sport,
recreation and educational programs.” The complex is amazing – an equestrian
ring, a rock-wall, administrative offices and training facilities, and an
entire garage full of adaptive equipment and bicycles which doesn’t even count
the second garage they have at the ski hills, full of sit-skis and winter gear.
They help with a wide variety of disabilities, from children to army veterans
through the Wounded Warriors Project. We helped as several novice cyclists with
developmental and cognitive disorders showed up for a weekly cycling lesson.
After we had helped fit them to bikes, we had a chance to try several of the
remaining bikes ourselves, which encompassed an incredible range of recumbents,
arm-pedals, tandem bikes, assisted-steering, extra-support, and touring bikes.
I took a few photos. One in particular was very intriguing – a bike built
specifically for a man who used it to climb Kilimanjaro.
The staff there were incredible, most having physical
disabilities themselves, either paraplegia or amputation. I spent quite a bit
of time picking apart their experience in the adaptive sports realm and asking
them the best way to get involved as I learned about their lives before and
after disability. One, Anna, was a student at CSU for only 2 weeks before she
lost both her legs in a train accident. She now competes nationally in all 5
downhill adaptive-skiing events.
Finishing our time at the NAC we welcomed another sponsored
dinner – however this one was simply a cash donation. Often we have no choice
of what we eat on the road, so having a few dollars to get dinner wherever we
please was a welcome treat. A group of us set off for Freebirds, a burrito
chain that is particularly filling. Satisfied with the meal, we returned home
to prepare our bags and get some rest before a cold, early morning back on the
bikes the next morning.
DAY 21: Park City to Duchesne
A day off always catches you by surprise, and again we were
up early and on the road on our way to the Utah desert. Ethan and I rode
together again, and tackled some early climbs. Early in the ride a
professional-looking rider passed us. It was cold and we raced to catch up
behind him to draft… by which he was evidently frazzled. He soon dropped us by
running a red light, nearly getting hit by a semi. So much for company.
The early segments of the ride were empty and mountainous with
some grand, green vistas and valleys. We turned on to the 35 and after a few
large climbs and some good conversation we reached the summit. Stopping at the
crew van to put on our sleeves and jackets, we then descended down towards the
Uintah Basin, passing along a river with some cutout canyon walls and large
rock formations, and then out into the desert.
Duchesne is a smaller town with a rich agricultural industry
at the bottom of a large valley, one of the first arrivals we had that was a downhill.
We stayed in an old high school gym, part of the main high school in the city.
The wind had picked up considerably as we entered town, and by the time we
reached the school, tumbleweeds rolled up through the streets. The trees
themselves hinted at the frequent high winds, all bent ever so slightly
downwind.
The Lions Club of Duchesne prepared us a dinner of pork
ribs, links, fruit, and potatoes. We gorged on the food, happy again for
another great meal. The cold shortened the dinner considerably, and hustling
back to the school, we realized the door was locked. Crowding like a group
trying to get into Wal-Mart on black Friday, we huddled in an alcove, away from
the wind. Inside the gym we played hacky-sack and floor hockey before we all
headed to bed.
DAY 22: Duchesne to Dinosaur
We left Duchesne a little later than we had anticipated due
to some mechanical problems. However, once on the road, the going was quick.
Mitch (Cal State Long Beach) and I rode together for the first time all trip
and quickly fell into deep conversation. He’s a talkative guy with a lot of
interesting ideas, and we bonded over a variety of things. One nice thing about
the paceline of only 2 is that there is never the problem of the “Three’s a
crowd” situation.
We also hit the 1,000 mile mark that day: the Colorado guys got a picture together to celebrate.
Flat pasture roads soon led to the larger Highway 40, one of
the most dangerous roads we have ridden on so far. The narrow shoulder, high
traffic, frequent road construction, and rough surfaces made it difficult to
navigate and difficult to hold your line without fearing for your life
sometimes… that coupled with the incredible density of roadkill made the road
particularly trecherous. We stopped midway through the ride at a bike shop in
Vernal that has historically given us a break on some bike maintainance. While
I didn’t need anything adjusted, we did take some time to sign the bathroom
wall, a tradition for travelers at the shop, including many past JOH riders.
About 10 miles after Vernal came the Utah – Colorado border
sign. I can’t remember a time in my life where I’ve been happier to see that
simple, etched wood sign: “Welcome to colorful Colorado.” From there we had
only a few short miles to Dinosaur.
Dinosaur is an odd little town right on the UT-CO border. It
is a small community with few amenities. Story goes that back in the 60’s when
Dinosaur National Park was incorporated, Dinosaur decided to change its name
from whatever it was before to Dinosaur. Along with the name of the town came
all the street names, which were changed to several different types of dinosuar
names. The change didn’t live up to expectations. Dinosaur remains a small
little border town with few services and people. With our large crew we
essentially shut down a small milkshake shop right as we got in, and so many of
us left to go pilfer for food at the two gas stations in town. From there we
walked back to the elementary school where we were staying the night. It was an
eery, dilapidated place that gave us all the creeps, let alone constantly
guarded by a team of elementary and high school kids who were sitting up on the
hill above the school, trying to get in. At one point they brought a dead
ground hog up to Bryce (one of the riders) asking him to help save it. Nothing
doing.
That evening we had a little leadership training session and
then hit the sack. We had a long day coming up in our ride to Craig.
DAY 23: Dinosaur to Craig
The ride to Craig was around 80-90 miles, our first real
ride in Colorado. We pulled out from the dessert quickly and entered the
western foothills of the Rockies. The green hills were empty save for some
small operations using tracks for grazing land and farmland. These were the
first rolling agriculatural fields of many to come. Ethan and I rode together
again, this time taking our time to enjoy the scenery and talk. The proper term
is “sandbagging.” As we lounged in the back of the pacelines just ahead of the
sweeps we had plenty of time to discuss and take in the beautiful scenery and
endless blue sky. We pushed it on a few hills, one of which brought us “King of
the Mountain” (KOM) on Strava. Celebrate.
Craig was the largest town we had seen since Park City, and
it was nice to have some ammenities. We finished at a stage-up point about a
mile from the Boys and Girls club we would be visiting later that day and with
the extra time before the arrival, we had a few carloads go to Wendy’s to pick
up some food and Frosty’s.
The arrival at the Boys and Girls club was one of the larger
one’s to that point. The entire center came out to greet us, about 40-50 people
total. After introductions we went in to give our Kids on the Block puppet show
and a short demonstration on Bicycle safety, which I was selected to run. You
don’t realize how hard it is to teach and control a room of 5 to 10 year-olds
until you do it, that’s for sure. After the presentations we had recess time
with all the kids until their parents showed up.
From the BG club we
went out to a local park where Horizons,
a specialized service provider to those with developmental disabilities in 5
northwest counties of Colorado, brought many of their clients and workers out
to serve us a potluck. The food was fantastic and the atmosphere was upbeat and
lively. It was great to see a few Broncos fans around as well – beyond happy to
be back to Donkey Country.
