Memorable Stories

I regret how little I had internet access and got a chance to update my blog during my trip. Below are a few highlights and excitement from West Texas onwards.


Two Texas Limos in Amarillo - Here was our first day off since New Orleans. We were so excited relax and live it up in the hoppin' town of Amarillo. To my delight (and surprise), I found a restaurant "the Big Texan" which promised to pick a group of us up in free-of-charge limos for their grand $8.95 breakfast buffet. Unfortunately, my dreams of my day off were shattered since as it turned out, I had to do laundry during the morning hours and was therefore unable to go over to the Big Texan. Since the original breakfast plan fell apart yet was never fully confirmed, I felt odd calling Tyson, my cowboy worker friend, to let him know that we went from being a maybe to a definite no. Assuming that maybe meant yes, he sent not one (as discussed) but two (a little excessive) limos to the downtown YMCA where we were staying. I luckily missed the fiasco--two confused drivers in full Texas cowboy gear wandering around the Y looking for some girl named Anna and a bunch of her friends-- since I was out doing laundry. Opps.

Cake in the Shoe - We got really hungry on the road. (I just realized that half of these stories are going to be about food which is quite appropriate.) One day right after the ride, we had two birthday cakes sitting around which we naturally start chowing down on without silverwear but with our unwashed, grease-covered hands. (Kinda gross, I know. Bike chain lube tastes horrible, fyi.) Nonetheless, we were still scrounging around for crumbs when the cake was gone. One of my leaders found a large chunk in someone's shoe -- intending to throw it away as a responsible and sane individual would, but he found himself in the midst of a conversation and out of instinct tossed the cake remnant into his mouth momentarily forgetting where it had come from.

Santa Fe Opera - Somehow the southern route turned out to be a tour of my mother's side of the family. I got a chance to see cousin Amy in New Orleans, the grandparents in their new home in Dallas, and then them again with Jill and Rex in Santa Fe. Here we enjoyed an evening at a summer production of La Boheme which was INCREDIBLE. It was my first opera and I was able to follow along the plot thanks to a pre-performance educational presentation in addition to my knowledge of Rent, the broadway play which took a lot of elements from the original opera. After that, they feed me a lot of really good food, allowed me to rest (on a couch -- a definite step up from gym floors), and we enjoyed a brief weekend wandering about Santa Fe.

Pie-Eating Romeo - Finding a deli for lunch in Arizona was a delightful break after the barren days of New Mexico and that desolate week to come in Nevada. Naturally, a typical sandwich was not enough for us hungry bike riders. So, as my friend Alf goes to order dessert, I whimsically (and mistakenly) joked that he couldn't eat the entire pie. Bets were wagered. I would pay for the pie if he could not finish OR finished then couldn't make it through the rest of the ride without booting. Low and behold, he ate the pie (which was not so tasty) and finished the ride. Ultimately, I would call the deal equal: I was out $15 for an overpriced pie, that I didn't eat, and Alf had to endure eating a sub-par pie and then riding the remain 35 miles with it in his stomach. (I am not at liberty to explain the second half of this nickname.)

The Plague - Nevada was difficult for its notorious headwinds (this was the only state where I was literally blown off the road), huge hills, and nothingness. But what we did not expect was the grand sickness (either food poisoning or a fast-hitting virus) that struck the vast majority of my team. At its worst, only eight of twenty-seven finished the ride. Six days later, we still had sick-ies in the van. When California finally came many long days later, this horrid disease finally subsided.

Life Jacket Bootie - With California came civilization as well as an extreme amount of tourists driving cars with motor boats attached and life jackets piled (unsecured) inside. One flew out onto the road and knowing that the owner would have little or no luck trying to find it after discovering it was missing and being against litter, my friend Rachel and I decided to pick it up and wear it for the remaining 25 miles of the day. Life jackets, unlike our bike and build jerseys, retain our body heat and sweat with two thick layers of plastic and tons of form making it not ideal of exercise in the afternoon. In order to not collapse of heat exhaustion, we switched back and forth. So, what do you do with a life jacket? We gave it as a birthday present to a tripmate who was notorious for picking up random stuff along the road.

Almost There!

Just a quick note while I have internet access before I take off for my penultimate day of biking...

We made it to California via the beautiful Lake Tahoe last Thursday and have since been trucking through the many mountain ranges and well-appreciated flat land. I am writing from a Presbyterian church in Napa Valley and uh-oh, I have just been called to a morning route meeting before we get on the road.

Moral of the story: I am alive and well and will try to update, communicate, and reflect more once I get back to what a friend calls "civilian" life.

Delilah's Theory & the Cookies Curse

When you are biking cross country, every day seems to be a challenge. And according to a friend on the trip, Delilah, it is almost as if we are secret agents battling against all kinds of currents in attempt to make it cross country. Some are more obvious -- like the huge hills and headwinds. But others, like the cookies curse, are much more subtle. When I was completing my third set of double centuries in Arizona, the weather and terrain were both gorgeous. Really we had nothing to complain about but we all were slightly sick. It was not until mile 75 on the second day when a group of us, all feeling the same way, finally figured out that gobbling down at least ten cookies at each rest spot was the real challenge of the day. Since what hungry cyclist can resist the goodness of mint kiddo's in replace for their 200th PB&J? Luckily, we no longer have so many cookies and I have succumb to supplement my now forced sandwich with a carrot or two.

Despite these obstacles, my trip has less than two weeks left. And with my legs which someone called tree trunks earlier today and a lot of excitement for San Fransisco, I think I can bike the loneliest highway in Nevada, complete a few last centuries, and make it to the Pacific Ocean!

Some long overdue pictures

Starting out at the Atlantic Ocean.
















Flea market in North Florida.












North Florida which seemed to last forever.








Finally leaving North Florida on a ferry!









An abandonned McDonald's sign on the Gulf Coast. (The building had been washed out to sea.)














Swamp land in Louisiana.










Lunch. We just get so hungry...










Southern Louisiana -- train track and farms were a famaliar sight.








Entering Texas we were still excited for our long visit, but those smiles faded as the ten long and hot days passed.






Swamp land in Texas? Apparently it is not all desert.








I didn't notice these feedlots with thousands of cattle until I heard someone else complaining about the stench. So as everyone else sprinted by, I stopped to take some pictures. Thanks Iowa!

We were trying to jump in this photo. Needless to say, we failed miserably.













Read the sign. We were not enchanted.

















A much needed break in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico.







Another scenic spot in NM but with a small hint of civilization.






Starving as usual, we had just eaten our daily lunch of PB&J plus anything else we could scrounge for, a friend and I stopped at the side of the road where an Argentinian man was grilling chicken to the beat of 1960s music.

Oh, the Places You'll Go!

Today marks the half-way distance of the trip. So, as I face the daunting hills and deserts of the West, I want to take some time to reflect on some of the places I have been.


Marianna, FL - A very generous and very Southern Baptist church took us in for the night. It was a shorter day, so not only did they provide dinner and breakfast the next day but they went out and got lunch when we arrived earlier than expected. Here was our first affordable housing presentation which was received with such enthusiasm from various members of the congregation who joined us for the evening meal. By this point in the ride, my group and I concluded that the deep South had an extreme abundance of three things: churches, dollar stores, and dead armadillos. Later in my ride, this rule of thumb has yet to let me down.


Mobile, AL - We arrived here after our first century ride. Excited from the day's accomplishments, a group of us had our first night on the town -- which ended up being surprising calm and early considering our exhausting and waking up the next morning at 6:45 (which is actually "sleeping in" compared to 4:00). But while out, I was able to meet a few people who promised that Mobile, to my great surprise, was indeed the home of Mardi Gras parties and still holds a popular and family-friendly event every year. Not a bad city considering this and the beach is beautiful and the fish restaurants are abundant, cheap, and (at least the one I tried) very good.

New Orleans, LA - This is still my favorite city in the world. And yes, I have been walking around the streets of NYC, Budapest and Rome telling whoever happened to be with me how X-city is great, but I will always like New Orleans better.


Natchitoches, LA - As the first British settlement in Louisiana, this city has a pretty rich history. Candy shops, local bookstores, restaurants, and gift shops located downtown overlook a lazy river and small park in the center of town.


Carthage, TX - Our first night in the great state of Texas, we were taken in by an '06 bike and build alumna's parents. They opened up their house for us to sleep all over and allowed us a taste of Texas food and hospitality. While there are many parallels between Texas and the South, this state is undeniably a separate entity. The tourist slogan is "a country of its own" which is no exaggeration from reality. Another slogan: "drive friendly -- the Texas way" has also proven to be true. As a cyclist, cars tend to zip by usually too close for comfort on both back roads and major highways, but cars (and A LOT of trucks) here have instead slowed down and granted us some wiggle room on the roads.


East Duke, OK - We took a break from the enormity of Texas and headed North to the border of Oklahoma for an evening. Oklahoma ... where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain ... did not let me down as it truly was everything that I imagined it to be. In this one town where I stopped to take pictures of the main street (right by the railroad tracks, of course), a local man stopped with me to tell me a short story about his town. Founded in the very beginning of the twentieth century, East Duke and West Duke had a continuous battle which had been sparked over the government granted the railroad company free land which it sold cheaply to the residence of East Duke. Enraged West Duke retaliated by occasionally burning buildings in their counter town which escalated into a thirty year conflict between the two. Finally, they came to a peace and together buried a hatchet in a time capsule under a main intersection. The true resolution, however, came when the main road in East Duke was paved in the late 1940's while West Duke was left with dirt roads and eventually perished to a sheetrock factory and a few abandoned foundations.


Memphis, TX - Everything was closed on Saturday afternoon when we got in. Their is a town square with all the main stores with a court house in the middle; this set up is becoming a familiar sight. But the emptiness of a weekend when in Charlotte or Grinnell people would be hustling about was almost eerie. A friend who went out last night also informed me that it is a dry county. And the library, to my dismay, is closed on Sundays AND Wednesdays. But the people are beyond nice. First Methodist treated us to a potluck dinner and a soon to come brunch. And the man I asked for directions to the post office offered to mail my letters for me since he was already heading that way.

Disclaimer: This list is very incomplete as I am running out of computer time but I hope to fill more in later.

Lose your house ... lose your teeth

My group and I just finished up our time in the Gulf Coast. Our final days were spent building, rather than our usual biking, with one day in each Mobile, AL and Biloxi, MS plus four more in New Orleans, LA. The region is estimated to not fully come back for 10-15 more years. And although things are looking better in NOLA and almost back to normal by the coast, there are still some obvious repairs waiting to be made and most definitely a long road ahead.

One elderly man in New Orleans stopped to talk to a group and I while we were gutting his neighbor's house. True to the nature of most people in the city, he was quite friendly to us strangers and even more glad to hear that we were volunteers from around the country. He quickly launched into his story, since like many others, he is eager to share the pain and trouble which he and many others have silently been enduring since hurricane Katrina.

He didn't evacuate. He didn't explain why and many people stayed for different reasons. Some, no many, literally could not afford it. It was the end of the month, so the last pay check was long ago and money for the necessary gas and food to get out of the city was low or not there. Others didn't have the transportation necessary. Pre-Katrina New Orleans had a pretty good public transportation for a city of its size, and so many people didn't have cars or ways out of the city. (Both the population and the bus lines have dramatically decreased after the storm.) It was too late, Mayor Ray Nagin hesitated to call a mandatory evacuation supposedly due to fear of economic backlash or possibly even disbelief in the weather predictions. Many residents, like their mayor, didn't think that Katrina could be that bad. The older ones had survived Betsy in '56 which only caused minor wind damage and a little flooding in the ninth ward. (Of course, Betsy was not termed minor at the time, but in comparison to Katrina, now most except it as such.) And finally, some just didn't want to leave something they loved behind. I am guessing that the old man I talked to was in the latter two camps. He didn't say.

The storm was fine. The sun was out. They made it! Right? Oh, I wish. He lives near the ninth ward where instead of trickling flood waters, he got a gush which allowed him just enough time to run to the highest story of his house and watch as his neighborhood was covered with more and more water. He wisely had loaded up this top room with water, food, and other supplies so that he was able to survive alone for days. A boat finally came to get him -- a family which was also stranded it in this newly-formed vast ocean, covering their streets, schools and almost all other signs of the pre-existing city. He took about five minutes to go over all the animals that he saw -- lots of snakes and basically everything else.

He joined this family and shared his hoard of stuff. Providing protection for each other at night in a two-story apartment complex they had found (as in were borrowing to put it nicely), they used their boat (also borrowed) to rescue other victims during the day. The old man estimated that they took about 200 people from roof tops and second stories to what he called "the ferry land" with boats shuttling people to safe ground.

All the while, he is talking about losing his dentures. He took them out one night to wash them after four days of not due to lack of clean water. When he did rinse them, it was with soda and set them down. In the middle of the night, someone came with word of the last ferry leaving. He rushed out fearful of the mayhem which might occur when they send in the military and increased disillusionment of the remaining survivors. He left his teeth and when he was allowed back in to look for them weeks later, the apartment complex could not be found. Of course, he only had a general idea where it was since all the street signs were covered. But he tried. And finally asked a random waitress who mentioned that the place had burned to the ground sometime after the storm. They were gone. Eighteen months later he is telling me his story and he still had no teeth. He lives in a trailer outside his house -- probably waiting for road home money to rebuild his house and certainly hoping his street and the city will recover.

We must have been talking for almost an hour. He never really went into much detail about his life since returning to the city. But it is hard to ask some one who has no teeth and 1/10 the neighbors they had 2 years ago how they are doing when the answer is too clear.

Milton, FL to Mobile, AL - 108 Miles

I really could not have asked for a better first century. Energized from a morning group huddle singing Lean on Me, the prospect of going mostly downhill (although not true), a donated HUGE Olive Garden pasta dinner the night before, finally leaving Florida after more than one week, crossing our first state line into Alabama, biking alongside the seashore for about half the ride, swimming at lunch in the Gulf, and a whole lot of adrenaline, it was (to my surprise) a great ride! I actually averaged higher in speed and cadence than any of the previous days on my trip. After 6 1/2 hours on my bike and 10 hours on the road (I take a lot of breaks), I finally made it! Maybe I can be a competent cyclist after all!?!