Bike Tour 2K6!

The End; A Recap

2008-07-19T00:40:00.000-07:00

The year anniversary of Ira and I finishing "the trip" came and went without so much a notice from us. It wasn't until a couple of days later, I remembered the date. Hum, I thought, "thats strange". When we first got back, I used to always be thinking, a year ago today, we were here. Now, we're back in Chicago and reintegrated into regular lives; the trip seems so long ago, like another life time.

Not that coming back was easy. It sucked. Looking back, it was by far the worst element of the trip for me. When we came back to Chicago, everything seemed different, as I chronicled in the last couple of posts. We had apartment trouble, which felt like it would never end. I did a lot of complaining. I mean, even if we had faulty electricity, horrible water pressure, a broken furnace and a verbally abusive downstairs neighbor who redefined noise pollution, we still had a roof over our heads right, so who's complaining? But, after being homeless for so long, I yearned for a safe nest. The lack of this left me feeling almost more vulnerable to the elements then I had ever felt out on the road with nothing but my bikes and the bags on it.

We finally moved and got settled in our current apartment located only a couple blocks away from where we lived before the trip. I love this neighborhood and I am so happy to be back. Our new apartment is wonderful and we are SO much more comfortable here.

Getting festive last Christmas!

Ira started back immediately to his old job with full benefits and a promotion! I took a little longer getting settled. I initially reintegrated myself into the work force by dog walking, and although, it was a good transition, to be working outside all day, dog walking didn't do much to satisfy my ambitious personality. In December, I was contacted about going back to work as a paper conservator (art restoration not recycling) for a firm I had worked for years ago. I decided to take the position to reestablish my career and financial situation. Going back to our old jobs has worked out for both of us, although we definitely get antsy and rebellious with the old 9-5!

From all endless hours on the saddle thinking, I realized I wanted to pursue my love cooking food, so I decided to start a food blog and start organizing underground restaurant events.

This past June, I launched ForkableBlog.com, and have successfully hosted one food event and have another planned for the first weekend in October.

Ira, being the chicago socialite he is, has directed his blogging energies into Being Totally Sweet In Chicago!

This summer, Gertie the 110 lb. mastiff decided she wanted to live with us. How can you say no to a face like this.

So we are now a family of three

I have had multiple people, after meeting this sweet lovable hooch, volunteer to dog sit her if we ever want to go on an extended trip again, so I guess we have back-up!

So as you can see, by giving ourselves time, we have reintegrated into the Chicago social scene, and once again, we feel surrounded by interesting and diverse friends. So life is good.

Since we weathered the storm, surviving all the peaks and valleys of the trip and persevering the aftermath of reintegrating, we decided we can take pretty much anything that is thrown at us. So, after 7 years (I was tempted to add "long" years), Ira and I have decided to get hitched.

Yup, we're gettin married, Memorial day weekend '09.

People keep asking if we're going to bike across Asia for our honeymoon. The answer is, unfortunately, no. We are slaves to the working world now. Three weeks of vacation is all we get. Ahhhhhh! Sometimes I look down an interesting road, or I'll feel the breeze on my face as I am riding to work, and I get so wistful for our days of freedom and exploration.

We WILL go adventuring again, and it will be on bikes.

Don't worry, I am not riding on the street with no helmet. This is my parents' driveway.

But I have a feeling like the bikes will have motors!

Thanks again, to all of you who supported us throughout our adventures. We really appreciated the feedback on this blog, it made taking the time to document our experiences even more meaningful. One adventure over, another yet to begin!

Apartment Purgatory

2007-08-24T12:55:00.000-07:00

As my life strays further and further from the interesting realm of travel and more into the mundane world of domesticity, it has become easier for me to not update these blogs. My explorations are no longer the intrepid maneuvers of a nomadic traveler across vast stretches of the American wilderness. I have recently been entrenched in the frustrating search for an apartment in the hostile environment of Chicago's west side. "Hostile" doesn't refer to gang-bangers or street thugs, it refers to something more insidious, the yuppie condo developers.

My old neighborhood was undergoing a lot of gentrification while we were living there, so I know I shouldn't be surprised that after almost two years of being away, the neighborhoods have changed. When we moved; PROGRESS was on its way. When we came back, we realized PROGRESS was here. Old buildings came down to make way for new poorly constructed tacky brick units complete with hard wood floors, granite counter tops and stainless steel appliances. Many of the old buildings which remain are being gutted and the inside apartments are being transformed to compete with the new development. Property values go up, taxes go up, rents go up. 30% of the available apartments have been gobbled up and spit out into condoland and the remaining units are more expensive and more desirable to the general market.

I know this is going to sound stupid and obnoxiously like an urban pioneer, but...I kind of miss our corner gangbanger/drug dealers keeping the equilibrium. There was obvious I mean, sure we had to deal with a shoot out now and then, but apart from the risk of a stray bullet, I never was worried the guns would be pointed at me. Because of what the visible street violence, the rents were low because the environment wasn't acceptable to the average renter. It didn't bother us though. As long as I didn't start dealing drugs which would impede on their business, they left us alone. In fact, they were actually kind of nice to have around. Our corner gang-banger, Alex, was always very friendly to me. He always said hello to me as I went past, and would hold the door open when I came home with an armful of groceries. He was always letting me know he was keeping an eye on the building for us so we didn't have to worry about anyone breaking in, that he was "very protective of his territory". It was sort of comforting considering he was out there on the corner almost all the time. This just came with small price of him always trying to look down my shirt or up my skirt as I went upstairs, but that was OK. And of course, we all knew if we were on the street when the guns came out, to quickly run up another block or into the alley. All in all, not too much a price to pay for a cheap apartment in an OK building.

With the development, the gangbangers have been pushed west. I am not condoning gang activity, I am just saying objectively for my personal situation, it wasn't a total negative. So with the development, it looks like Ira and will also have to go west. In the past Western (2400 W) was the borderline. No one wanted to live west of Western. I keep hearing Kedzie (3200 W) is the new Western. Well five years ago, we moved to 2658 W. Cortez, but that neighborhood is not what it once was. So now, we are fleeing to 3238 W. Augusta.

Ira and I have finally signed a lease. Well, Ira is the only one who has actually signed. I was out of town that day, so I was able to get out of the signing process. Luckily for me, that means if I don't like the place I can just leave and stick Ira with it. Whuh ha ha.

I am really not that excited about it. After looking at apartment after apartment, we finally just compromised on a place which wasn't perfect. It is a small 2ND floor flat with two bedrooms and a enclosed back porch. The block is in an industrial section of Augusta and has no trees or greenery. The apartment is in slightly rough shape. The front and rear entrances of the apartment smell of Cat Urine. This is a big problem for me. So, along with the lease, we signed an agreement that the landlord with clean the entrances and use enzyme treatment to rid the urine smell as much as possible. If they do not do a satisfactory job, we can break our lease.

I keep focusing on the negatives, which is frustrating Ira to no end. There are some positives though. The building has a back yard which was very important to Ira. We were able to negotiate the price down to $675, which for a Chicago 2bdrm is a good deal. It has a nice eat in Kitchen with new appliances. We also have the freedom of being able to paint the walls however we wish. The apartment will also be conducive to our entertaining. I made sure to communicate when looking at apartments that Ira and I like to have parties and need a place where noise won't be an issue.

People keep asking me about our situation. Have you found an apartment yet? Whats going on. Have you begun looking for a job yet. AHHHH. I can't take it anymore. To answer everyone in one fell swoop; I am not sure exactly what is going on. I keep responding "We have sort of signed a lease" and am answered in return with quizzical looks. We found a place which is OK, we decided we could take it, if the landlord agreed to fix some things before we move in. If the things are not done to our liking, we can break the lease. Until we know more, we are essentially in a holding pattern. I am not going to look for a job, until we get moved and settled in our new place. Right now, I am just sitting around, which in turn is depressing me. I've been really anti-social lately because I am sick of trying to give answers which are ambiguous to even myself. How can you help? Stop asking me questions!!!

We need to get settled. Maybe we could have kept looking, but I was getting the feeling that the apartments being listed were just more of the same. We decided to just pick one that was OK and work with that. The rent is low, which will work well for the time I am unemployed. I am just sick of this purgatory of maybe having an apartment, but maybe not, just waiting around to see how things go. I've been without a home for a long time. I just want my own space. Can you tell I am feeling cranky?

Sweet Home Chicago

2007-07-31T22:47:00.000-07:00

I've been back in Chicago almost a whole week after spending the previous one in Michigan with my parents. I have been done riding for 15 days. People keep asking me if it feels strange to be done with the trip. I've been hesitant to reply because I didn't know the answer. I would say, "well, it hasn't really sunk in yet", or "the trip won't really be over until I have an apartment and a job".

To repeat, I have been back in Chicago almost a whole week now, and I guess I can answer, that yes, it does feel strange; it feels disassociating and it feels uncomfortable, on many different levels.

Ira and I are both bone tired of the nomadic life. We want a home, an apartment, a safe place which is totally ours. Upon coming back to the city, Ira started back at his old job, doing tech support for a small computer company. He is temporarily staying with our friend Andy. I, however, am staying just a mile south with my Aunt Dottie. While I love Andy, I cannot live at his place. It is the ultimate bachelor pad. Now, when I say "bachelor pad", I don't refer to leopard print throw rugs, Martini shakers on a tiki style bar and light switches programed to throw on records of sultry french jazz while turning couches into beds. I mean bachelor pad as in a stinky bathroom with 2 years of scum in the tub, dirty dishes in the sink which will be cleaned with towels so crusty they stand on their own and a bike shop with random greasy components littering the floor where the non-existent dining room table should be. I've spent nights there, but I always end up waking up and feeling an utter sense of depression at how pointless life seems.

I know this seems extreme, but it is true. Its not just Andy's apartment which makes me feel this way. I find no fault in the way Andy lives. Its his life, and he can set up his apartment in any way he chooses. The way he chooses just isn't a way which makes me comfortable. When you don't have any place of your own, no safe haven to be yourself, you end up staying at someone Else's home and entering into their own version of what a safe haven is. You start living their life and it can be incredibly disassociating and hard.

When I was on the road, I experienced this sensation many times. It was both wonderful and hard. I enjoyed traveling around different regions of our country and experiencing first hand how differently people live their lives but, always only for short periods of time. Ira and I made a rule (which we only broke twice), that we would not stay with one host for longer then five days. We discovered five days was around the period of time where we went from just experiencing someones life in a periferal way, to starting to live their life. When this happened it got both oppressive for us, and annoying to our hosts.

On my return to Chicago, I knew before it would be easiest for me to cope with the reintegration to normal life by placing myself in a more safe and comfortable place. My Aunts house, besides being having family ties where I can count on a little coddling, is also located in my old neighborhood not to far away from where Ira is staying. I felt would be the best place for me. So, Ira and I are temporarily living separately.

While Ira and I are both incredibly appreciative of the hospitality shown to us by our hosts, we are both crying to get a place of our own. I long to be surrounded by my stuff; I want to have all of clothing to wear again; I want to see my pictures hanging on the wall; I want to cook a real meal and leave the dirty dishes in the sink if I want. The apartment hunt must begin immediately. We both decided, since Ira is already back working full time, and I am still gainfully unemployed, I will use my time to hunt through every corner of the appropriate neighborhoods for a place to hang our hat and hearts.

I have been looking for the past three days. My experiences with that is a blog post in its own right. To be brief, our neighborhood has changed in the past year or so we have been gone. We can't find anything near our old apartment and have been shoved, most indelicately west. All the apartments I have been looking at are small, cramped, and tacky. The buildings are gross or the amenities aren't to suit. One way or the other, after inquiring about 31 places and viewing 15 I've only found two so far which at best are on the maybe list.

Its hard because after a year on the road, having 8 hours a day to sit around and think, Ira and I both have a pretty clear and defined idea of what we want in our new apartment. As trite as this sounds, if I had a nickel for every time one of us said, "when we get back, I want.... in our new place", I would be rich. We spent so much time thinking of this dream place, it is making it hard for me to compromise with something lesser. Not that I had any grand or unrealistic tastes, it was just based on a city which existed 2 years ago.

The city is a fickle mistress; she never stays the same. You may come back to her and remember all the subtle details of her style and appearance, but she may not remember you at all. You may come running back with open arms to the places you once felt so attached to and which are intimately part of your memories, but the city has no arms to hug. It only has a stiff nod to give you as its 12 lanes of traffic speed on by without so much as a hello. Upon first getting into the city, (I came by train) I felt I was on the final home stretch of my trip. As I passed buildings, streets and landmarks so familiar to myself, I was overcome with emotion as if all the landscape in its familiarity was welcoming me home.

As I have been back for a handful of days now, I don't feel the same way. I feel how the city has changed on me, subtly, yet in so much a real way. Of the community of friends with whom we were so tightly knit, most still live here, but scattered about. I am mourning the loss of my comfort zone, my community and my home as I knew them to be.

I feel adrift and alienated. It is hard having to feel as though you are starting new in a place which is so familiar. I feel lost and pointless, being unemployed and homeless. I know, all of you pull out your fiddles. Play me your sympathetic songs. I can hear you crying "get over it!!! Did you think it was going to be easy? Just do the work, and you'll get re acclimated; you'll get your community back". I know it; I hear the wisdom in this. So everyday I've been getting out of bed and spending all day scouring the apartment listings, calling and recalling numbers, taking notes, hiking and biking all over town to view units and find signs advertising new leads. But its not fun!!!(especially in this 90 degree weather).

So, is it strange to be back? Yes it is totally, totally weird. Every time I get down, I keep thinking of how positive I felt when I first got back. I know I feel lost and alone because I have re-entered a city which has changed and I am searching for my friends whom have also changed. But I must not let it get me down. I have also changed. I need to just let go of the past Chicago and become part of the New City.

On the train, as we were pulling into Chicago, I quickly penned a couple of lines I was going to use as the finale to a sentimental post of being back. When things weren't going as smooth as I had hoped, I was planning on using them in a sarcastic way. However, upon rereading them, I feel they stand on their own. While sentimental, the words are essentially true, so I will leave them as is, and you can make of them, and the rest of this post, as you will.

"feels strange riding into Chicago. Not coming for a visit-but coming back...HOME. Home, the concept I've questioned 1000 times over this trip. Whatever the future holds and however many times the definition of the word changes, I know I've done the right thing coming back here. As I watch the familiar buildings and landscape file by I feel as if the city itself is welcoming me home. I feel the end of this journey. And the beginning of another."

hiding from you and the future.

2007-07-26T08:53:00.000-07:00

I've been at my parents house for the past 10 days or so. I don't know why, but I feel as though I've been hiding. Every time I think about the blog, I get this feeling of guilt, like I used to have when my final projects where due. I knew I should be working on them, yet I would put it off just one more day, the whole time knowing I was screwing myself over. I've been trying to figure out why I've been avoiding the blog, why I feel this guilt.

My last week on the road was jam packed full of emotions and experiences I don't feel I did full justice to in my last post. When I wrote my last post, I remember forcing myself to sit down and the experience was more just like me vomiting out all the words and just walking away. I haven't read that post so I know it is probably full of errors and run on sentences. I knew I needed to document it, but there was too much to talk about, that I just tried to get as much down as possible.

Now after the fact, I feel like I am getting more and more behind. I haven't updated the blog with pictures or filled in the blanks of what I wanted to talk about with my last week of riding and now I have been off the road for almost two weeks and I haven't updated with what I have been doing and feeling lately.

Besides the guilt of feeling behind, I have also been hesitating to write anything, because my emotions are so jumbled about how I feel being done. I am happy but also sad. I am excited at the prospect of my knew "getting back to a regular life" life but I am afraid I will find myself becoming bored with the monotony after the initial excitement wears off. I am not really looking forward to looking for a job. I am glad to be done with the heavy athletic work for a while, but I am not glad about the prospect of getting re-fat (I don't want the 20 lbs I shed back again).

All in all, I am in for a lifestyle change. I am trying to focus on the positives and accept the negatives as part of the experience. It is hard. So I guess it seems easier to hide on my parents deck, by the deck, beer in hand then spend too much time looking my future in the face. So while I am sorry, I haven't updated this sooner, I am also giving myself a break because I know the future will come whether I have completely thought it through or not. I guess, I was just all wowing myself to relax (of course I was feeling guilty about stuff, but I went to catholic school so...) and not worry too much, because one thing I learned on this trip was, Ira and I are really good at taking care of ourselves. We can improvise well with what we have to make things work. And after all this time on the road, all the fights and headaches, all the "I'm not sure I want to be involved with you anymore"s, we still love each other and still work well as a team. So we are going to forge ahead. Every day of the trip, we would wake up not knowing where we were going to find food and water or where we were going to sleep that night. And every day, not matter how much I stressed and worried, we always found food and water and a place to sleep. So keeping that in mind, I am trying to stay positive and not stress, because in this new phase of our lives, I know we'll find what we need to make it, and we'll always find a place to sleep.

Ok, so I cheated.

2007-07-17T14:21:00.000-07:00

I wanted to announce I have made it back to my parents house in Flint. I know I haven't posted in a week. Perhaps you may have been wondering what I have been up to and where I was at. The long and short of it is I was on a mass exodus from Canada.

When I last spoke with you, I was on Prince Edward Island. The day after my last post, I went and toured all of the L. M. Montgomery sights, (author of Anne of Green Gables) touring Green Gables and her birthplace. After visiting these sights, I was ready to start heading west, back home.

I spent one more night on Prince Edward Island. Waking up the next morning, I rode to the bridge which connects the Island to New Brunswick and the mainland. From here, it was 60 miles to Moncton, where planned to take the bus across part of the way across New Brunswick to cut off some days of the trip. However, being done with all my sight seeing, I realized I just wanted to get home. I was really tired, and being on my own was making things harder. It takes more energy to travel alone, because beside having to be responsible for everything on my own, I also felt like I had to be "on" all the time. I had to be constantly aware of what was going on around me. I didn't have the energy for any more traveling. I didn't want to hang out in new cities, I didn't want to talk to anyone for any reason. I just wanted to get back to the U.S., I wanted to get back to the Midwest, to where things were familiar.

I got to Moncton around 4 and went over to the bus station to find out the bus schedule. The buses in the direction I wanted to go leave twice a day. One had already left earlier on in the day, and the second was to leave in an hour. Without really thinking about it, I bought a ticket on the later bus. Once on the bus, I kept extending my destinations. Originally I was going to get off in Fredericton, which was half way across New Brunswick. However, I decided while we were riding, that the landscape was pretty hilly and I was tired. I would take the bus all the way across New Brunswick to Edmonston. I would get off the bus there, ride a nice 80 mile bike trail I had heard of across Quebec, where I would get the train to either Montreal or Toronto. By taking the late bus, I wouldn't get to Edmonston until 11:30 at night. I had no where to stay, my bike was partially disassembled in a box and I was alone. The closer we got to Edmonston, the more I realized this wasn't a good idea. I found out the bus I was on went all the way to Montreal. When we got to Edomonston, I went in the bus station and bought a ticket to Montreal and got back on the bus. I arrived at Montreal at 6 a.m. the next morning. I was having so much fun on the bus, I figured, what the hell and bought a ticket to Toronto. So 36 hours after leaving Prince Edward Island, and $165.00 later, I had skipped ahead 850 miles or so.

I arrived in Toronto around 2 or 3 in the afternoon and immediately started biking. For the next two and a half days, I biked as hard and as fast as I could to get back to Michigan. I had horrible head winds which made every peddle stroke agonizingly hard. The wind was helping me to feel more and more satisfied in my decision to take the bus. I was wondering why I didn't just take it all the way.

My last days, I was riding like a madwoman to get home. The day after I left Toronto, I biked 80 miles into 20 mph head winds. I was averaging 8 mph. I usually go around 12mph. It took me 12 hours with a couple of breaks included to achieve this. My last riding day in Canada wins the record for the most miles ridden on this trip. I left Stratford at 6:30 a.m. My goal for the day was Sarnia, which is on the Canadian side of the border, Port Huron, MI being on the US side. Despite another headwind, my aching butt (my boils were back in effect and stinging like no body's business) and a total lack of food (I ran out of food and paper money. None of the stores and gas stations I went to accepted credit cards and the atm's wouldn't accept my American card. I was reduced to drinking some whiskey I had with my as my only source of sustenance for 40 miles.) I arrived at Sarnia around 4. I had already ridden 90 miles that day, but I couldn't stop when I was so close to being back in the USA.

I crossed the bridge, with the help of the bridge authority and made my way back into Michigan. I was going to find a place to camp and then ride the 30 miles north along Lake Huron to my Grandmothers cottage the next morning. When I started to ride north, I realized, the wind had shifted and was not coming from the south giving me a nice tail wind. I had so much adrenaline pumping in my veins, I decided, what was another 30 miles. So I didn't stop and camp, but rode north, ending the day at my Grandma's cottage. From Stratford to Port Sanillac, I rode 128 miles in one day, loaded with head winds. I was really tired.

I rested there for two days and then yesterday I hitched a ride back to Port Huron, where I finished my trip by riding 70 miles to my parents house in Flint.

So, 9216 miles of actual riding and this trip is over for me. I have completed the line. When Ira and I left Chicago, we rode to my parents house. So by riding back here, I have closed that gap. I rode a little over 600 miles on my own.

I was feeling a little bad about cheating and taking the bus, feeling like I wasn't being tough enough to stick with it. I know I will never look back and regret taking the bus though. I was so exhausted, I just wanted to get home. I wanted the experience of traveling alone, but at the same time I wasn't making the best decisions. When complaining of fatigue in emails, all my friends kept encouraging me to just come home. I knew emotionally, the trip was over for me. The last week was incredibly hard, and the trials and tribulations where more then I have described above.

I am glad to be done, and I am ready to move on. I am looking forward to reestablishing my life in Chicago, and having a home which doesn't move around. I am looking forward to waking up in the same place everyday and not having pack up all my belongings every day. Thank you all for coming along this journey with me, and please stay tuned. I have pictures to post that I never got a chance to do of this past week as well as previous days. Plus, I may be done traveling, but the trip isn't really over yet. All of the post trip details have yet to be ironed out. So if anyone knows of any good 2 bedrooms in Humboldt Park or any good paying interesting jobs, let me know. When I get things set up, I'll be keeping you posted.

2007-07-08T06:12:00.000-07:00

Charlottetown, PEI

I spent the day roaming around the city.

First I went to the Farmers makert. It is more of a multi-cultural food fair then a real farmers market, since I only saw two or three vegitable stands.

The man in the kilt bbq'd up an awesome sundried tomato sausage which I ate with onions and saurkraut. YUM!

In case you are wondering about the kilt... The maritime provinces all have a huge Scottish population. The accent here actually has a bit of a celtic ring to it, It sounds like a mix of a Canadian accent and an irish accent. Everyone's name here starts with Mac.

Then I rode across town to ride through Vicoria Park, and all the beautiful old houses surrounding it.

Here is a better view of the lighthouse.

Then I went downtown.

And I went to the...

People here on the island love Anne of Green Gables a lot, which is good because so do I. Aren't these little girls cute!!!

They love Anne so much, most of the farm houses are painted white with green trim.

When I was done at the Anne Store, I went over the the Bluesfest going on in the street. I watched this awesome band- The Saddle River String Band. They play classic blues tunes with a bluegrass style. The frontman was even play the kazoo. It was really a lot of fun!!

Then it was icecream time. Cow's ice cream has been voted to be Canada's number one ice cream, and it was goooood! I had gooey mooey. Vanilla with caramel and chocolate caramel cups. Here is my host Savanah (on the right) with Stephanie. They are both totally enjoying their selections.

Then it was off home, to play with the kittens!

Because I can't resist...These guys above look big at 11 weeks compared to how small they were when Todd and Savanah found them in the ditch at two weeks. UHHHH!

Taking care of business.

2007-07-06T12:29:00.000-07:00

I obtained a bike box yesterday in preparation for my flight to Chicago. This is one of those straight forward statements describing a task anything but straight forward. I'm staying in Dartmouth, Halifax's twin city across the river.

Travel between the cities includes the Angus L. McDonald Bridge, a mile long suspension structure over 150 feet high. The idea of crossing it on a windy day with a billboard sized box attached to my bicycle was nothing short of terrifying. Unfortunately, the closest bike shop in Dartmouth was too far away, so across the McDonald it was. I've learned to call ahead before making long bike trips in foreign cities, and the shop said no problem, I could stop by and pick up a box. Upon arrival, all of the boxes were too small, so I rerouted to the train station and got a huge one for six bucks. Perfect, except that was the moment the rain began. Maritime weather is fickle and unconcerned with anyone's plans to move large pieces of cardboard across town. One hand was on my handlebars, the other held tenuously to my cardboard sail. The first gust of wind almost laid me in the middle of the street. The rain was light but persistant so I pedaled toward the bridge before my cargo could turn to six-dollar mush. How I actually made the crossing, I'm not sure. I stopped a couple of times when gusts threw me into a swerve on the wet steel platform. I survived the gale without injury and only minor spattering on the box. It's the size of a Chicago bedroom, so I put my bike and so much gear in there that I'll only have one other bag to check. Everything's been double and triple checked.

All I could think of yesterday was how miserable Andrea must be in the rain. I'm having some major survivor's guilt! It's good to see that some nice people helped her out, but I still feel a little bad for being dry.

First Night On the Road

2007-07-06T07:28:00.000-07:00

After I left the town I posted my last blog entry, it started to rain. It was a light drizzle so I thought I could ride it out. However, it kept coming and coming, getting more and more heavy every minute. I eventually ended up totally soaked. I decided I couldn't go any further and had to find a place to stay for the night. I finally found a nice house off the side of the road with the lights on in the windows. I decided this looked like a good place to start.

When I knocked on the door, I think I was looking particularly pathetic, dripping water all over the porch. Ross answered the door and as I explained my situation, he initially looked at me in a confused sort of way, wondering who I was and where I came from. He finally replied that yes, I could camp in yard if I wanted to do that.

The MacCallum Family: Pam, Mary, her son Dawson, and Ross.

He invited me in, and his wife, Pam offered to cook me up some dinner, even though they and their daughter and grandson had already eaten. I thanked them profusely just for letting me come in let alone the food. They served me up a chicken dinner with mashed potatoes, and Rhubarb pie to boot! Fresh rhubarb from the patch, you can't get any better. Except when you drink it with Chocolate milk!

I had a very wet night outside, but I got through it all right. They let me come in this morning to shower, and gave me breakfast with chocolate milk! So even though the weather was total crap, I had a very good evening.

Its been raining on me all day unfortunatly and everything I own is wet, but I have a house lined up to stay at tonight on Prince Edward Island, so I'll be ok.

All by myself

2007-07-05T11:00:00.000-07:00

I am half way through my first day on the road alone. It doesn't feel too different. I usually ride in front of Ira, so I couldn't ever see him before. We would rarely talk while riding. It has been nice being able to ride at my own pace. I notice, today I have not stopped as much as we usually would. I eat far less then Ira so I don't need to stop all the time to munch. I got my full days riding done by 1:30. I am hanging out at the Library because it is a little drizzly outside. I plan on riding twenty miles or so more tonight. I know its going to be weird not having Ira around, and I'll miss my partner in crime. Right now though, it feels pretty good to be independant.

I should be on Prince Edward Island by tomorrow! I'll keep you posted.

Ruminations on a dreary maritime day.

2007-07-05T09:44:00.000-07:00

We've spent a few days in Halifax, although the reality of things hasn't sunk in yet. This is the end of the line for me. We've been living out of panniers for ten months out of the last year, shopping at a different grocery store every day, driven forward by the promise of something new. That has been my source of comfort and inspiration for a long time now, my reliance on something just over the horizon. Every day on the road has it's low points, be it rain, bugs, or exhaustion. At these stressful ravines I shut everything out by dreaming of a domestic life in the city. In a few days my realities will switch, I'll return to comfort and have life on the road to dream about. I may have learned enough from the hardships of travel to make me content with a commonplace existence, but for now it's speculation. I don't envy Andrea's ride home- I'm sick of touring and the thought of senic roadsides makes me nausous. It's clear that we need some time appart, if we ever hope to have a day without bickering. These last few weeks have been hard. Andrea left on her bike this morning, and I'm getting on a plane this Saturday. How's that for a reality check? The tour is over, but far from digested, feeling like a stomach full of the best and worst foods I can imagine, all mixed together, waiting to be broken into components to fuel the rest of my life.

Not too crazy excited.

2007-07-04T09:08:00.000-07:00

Although I have made the decision to ride home from Halifax, I would describe my present attitude about the rest of the trip as just "lets get this stupid thing over with". When I've talked to my sister and different friends, everyone asks me, "why don't you just come home?" I guess the answer is because I feel like I have to do this part of the ride myself; alone. I need to prove to myself I can do it. If I don't take this opportunity now, I feel like I will regret it forever. Plus, I have to go to Prince Edward Island. It has always been a dream for me to go there.

But I really don't want to ride too much anymore. So this is my plan. I will leave Halifax and ride the 150 kilometers to P.E.I. and spend three days or so on the Island. Then I will come back via the bridge to New Brunswick, where I will ride North West into Quebec. This should take me 5 days. Then in Riviere-Du-Loup, I will get on the train (yes you heard me...the train) to Toronto. This will cut off 5 days or so of riding and then I won't have to speak to the French Fries as much. (Does that make me sound like an arrogant and ignorant Amurican? Sorry, I've been on the road for a god damn year and I want to be somewhere familiar. I don't have the energy or desire to experience any cultures anymore. I don't want to be akwardly bumbling along with each person I meet on the road with "Bounjour. Parle vu Englaise? or however the hell its spelled).

Ok, so off the train at Toronto. And then I will ride across through Sarnia to my parents house in Flint. That will be the end of my ride. From there I will take the train or be driven to Chicago. I think I've reached a happy medium. I will be biking enough to prove myself I can do it, but be zooming across the land quickly enough to not be on the road for too much longer.

I just want to get home. So hopefully soon, I will be there having drinks with all you midwestern folk. Save some room for me, I's a commin.

Ok, With My Last Post Said and Done...

2007-07-04T08:42:00.001-07:00

I am not done riding yet. I didn't post this information yet because I have family members who read this blog and I didn't want to worry them until it was too late. I know Halifax was to be our end goal, but I have decided I am not quite ready to pack it up and go back to Chicago. When Ira began talking about how ready he was to go home and proposed a shortcut to get to Halifax by skipping Prnce Edward Island, I realized how done Ira felt about this trip. I really wanted to go to P.E.I and I didn't want to give it up, however, I knew Ira wanted to be done. It opend up a new idea in my head. So we took the shortcut to Halifax. Ira's plan remains to fly out of Halifax for Chicago on July 7. However, tomorrow, July 5th, I will start my ride back to the Midwest alone.

Why am I doing this? Will I be safe alone on the road? Am I totally crazy?

There are many different reasons why I need to do this. I felt as though flying out of Halifax would not be true closure for me. I don't have to be back at any particular time for a job (unlike Ira, who needs to be back by mid-late July to get his job back). I've proven to myself I was capable of doing this in a team effort environment with Ira, but I feel it is important for me to have this experience on my own; to prove I am capable of handling the road alone.

Every time I write the word alone, I can feel certain relatives and friends shiver. I know I will be causeing extra worry to my friends and family by doing this. However, I have to live my life on my own terms. I feel like I need to do this. I know I will have to do things differently then when Ira and I were together. I will need to have my street smart head on all the time. I feel confident, after living in Chicago for almost 10 years, and constantly navigating the city alone, I can handle this. I just need to be smart and keep my eyes open. One thing I realized over the past year on the road is that 98% of the people you meet are good people. Sure there are always that 2% you need to be wary of, but you would need to be wary of them anywhere. I am a firm believer that if something bad is going to happen to you, it will happen no matter where you are. Sure I can hear some of you saying, "yes maybe but your risks rise dramatically of getting hit by a car if you walk out into the middle of the road, then if you just stay on the sidewalk." While this is also a good point, I can not let it deter me from my decisions.

Ira and I are not breaking up. My wanting to do this has nothing to do with my not wanting to be with him, I just want to try this on my own. He knows this is something I feel strongly about. He knows this pretty well by now, as he has tried to argue me out of doing it and has lost each argument (lost it in my mind anyway). He is reconcilled and is supportive of me because he knows I can do it. Besides his initial worry about my safty is the worry that my family is going to be pissed at him for letting me do this. He is concerned people will think he is abbandoning me. I told him, I feel as though my family knows me pretty well and understands how headstrong I am. Once I make a decision, I go for it. So any of you who are reading this...don't get mad at Ira, ok?

I am a control freak thusly I like having complete control over my own life. I need to live on my own terms and not on others. This is something I feel strongly about. If something bad happens (which could have happened at any time before or during this trip) I'll accept the consequences of my actions, and I hope my loved ones understand this. Although I really don't like this song or Frank Sinatra all that much (or the guidos who sing this song every week at karaoke) I do want to look back on my life and know "I did it myyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"

(God what a cheesy way to end that post. oh well)

2007-07-03T17:20:00.000-07:00

The emphasis lately has been on the completion of the tour, but I'd like to touch
on how rad Halifax is. We haven't even dug into the insider scene, just hitting
pubs on the waterfront and crusing around on unloaded bikes.

I'm going to diverge and talk about that picture: Mussels! There's a half kilo inthat bowl, seasoned "Bangkok" style with curry coconut and ginger, courtesy of the Halifax Ale House. I've overlooked mussels for too long and the Canadian coast is a perfect place to rectify that. We've ordered them two times, and they've been some tasty little sea creatures.

I'll catch up on the picture-posting later.

There will be more about this town too in the next couple days, as hinted above. My wireless signal is crap right now so I gotta go...

GOALLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-07-01T10:04:00.000-07:00

Halifax. The word is so loaded. We've been traveling North America for the last year. Inundated with the same questions over and over. "Where are you heading" is always the first of second question asked. Halifax, Nova Scotia, the answer. When we left on the first half of the trip, I was uncertain of my own capabilities of crossing the mountains to get to the west coast, let alone getting to the east coast as well. Halifax became this word I repeated so many times, it lost its meaning as a city and came to embody the hopes and dreams I had of the completion of my goal; the ultimate proof to myself and everyone else that I was capable of achieving the lofty ambitions I had set upon myself.

We pulled into Halifax yesterday June 30, 2007 at 3:30 p.m. Atlantic Standard Time.

Our last night before arriving, we were camped in Hubbards, Nova Scotia a shy 40 kilometers (25 miles) away. Knowing this was our last week of riding together on this trip, we've been riding Nova Scotia really slow, doing only about 40-50 miles a day. We got to Hubbards and found a cute park right on the bay to set up our tent for the night. I sat on a park bench watching the rapids of the small creek pouring and spurting forward, fighting its way into the ocean. There is something so meditative of the sight and sound of moving water. As I sat there, I became very contemplative of our trip. I thought of the day ahead, the short ride to our end goal; to Halifax. I thought of our past 300 odd days on the road. We've traveled over 8,000 miles through 30 U.S. States and 2 Canadian Provinces. (8,000 miles is approx 12,000 Kilometers-I have enjoyed doing this conversion here in Canada because being five digits sounds so much more impressive then just four.)

As I sat, I perused select memories of our trip, different days, different places; plucking each one from the streaming mass as I might lean down and scoop a glass of water from the gurgling streamlet. Memories surged through me, like the beautiful sunsets in the Badlands, or a sunrise over the Missouri River; our first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean and flying in a plane over coastal Maine. I began grouping memories, thinking about keystone events and places. I thought about how we have been on every edge of the United states, North, South, East and West. We have ridden over the Golden Gate Bridge and the Brooklyn Bridge. We've visited places steeped in American History like the Alamo, Mount Rushmore and Mount Vernon. We've seen the immense natural grandeur of our country, visiting every national park, landmark and shoreline along the way, including Yellowstone, Glacier, and the Redwood forests. We crossed our countries two mountain ranges, the Rockies and the Appalachians. In the Rockies we crossed the Great Divide three times. I swam on every border of the U.S; Lake Superior in the North, the Pacific on the west, the Gulf Coast to the south and the Atlantic to the east. We camped on beautiful pristine beaches in the Outer Banks; we camped in the dark pine forests of Northern Maine, and in between two 20 ft towering hay stacks in Montana. We've seen battlegrounds from the Spanish American War, the Civil War, the Revolutionary war, the French and Indian war not to mention all the smaller squirmishes against the different Native American tribes through the west.

We've experienced the many different regions of our country from the Midwest to the west, the Pacific Northwest to the West Coast. We traveled through Texas which is a region of its own, through the bayous and panhandles of the gulf. We traveled through the Deep South and the Colonial South. We crossed through the Appalachians, "Down East", and New England. Each has its own distinct culture, accent and food. We've experienced the amazing kindness and generosity of randam acts of kindness throughout the country as complete strangers would invite us into their homes for a good meal and a warm bed. As people have opened their homes and their lives to us, we've celebrated with people as we happened upon different local festivals, like the Sweet Pea music festival in Boseman, Montana. We've also mourned with people as they've shared their experiences of devistaion like in the areas of Southern Louisiana so brutally damaged by Hurricane's Catrina and Rita.

As I sat categorizing all these places, these people and experiences, more and more memories flooded me, until there were so many, I could not single any one out in particular. They began to wash over me and I felt myself sinking deeply under the weight of all this mass.

When we started this trip, it was so difficult to wrap my mind around the huge goal we had set out to accomplish. In order to stay sane, we needed to segment the trip into a connection of many smaller goals. We left Chicago for my parents house in Flint MI. We left Flint for my hometown in the Upper Peninsula. From there we headed to Ira's Parents house in Wisconsin and then on to Minneapolis. This was our trip, a connect the dots of all our smaller goals.

Our final goal connected the dots of Bar Harbor Maine to Halifax. We left Bar Harbor on Monday, taking the ferry to Nova Scotia. We had spent the previous five days riding along the beautiful Atlantic coast, all the while fighting the fog, rainy drizzle and hoards of evil insects set of biting every inch of our body and sucking every drop of our blood. Sitting on the park bench that night, I had my invaluble bottle of Deepwoods Off at my side which still wasn't enough to keep the bugs off. Although the landscape is physically beautiful, Nova Scotia can be relentless. I can deal with bugs, having grown up in the U.P. We have the same bugs there as here, but I guess I have been away long enough where I have forgotten the true horror of literally being crawing with bugs. On previous nights, before I finally had to break down and get the bugspray, knats and noseeums (no-see-um, a very small bug which you can hardly see, hence the name which viciously bites like a mosquitto but leaves large welts like the black flies)swarmed around me, crawling everywhere including all over my face, even into my eyes.

I sat feeling totally exhausted and sick of being stuck outdoors at the whim of the elements. I was ready to get to Halifax. I needed to get back to a place where I could be safely inside. I hate the feeling of having nowhere to go to escape the elements. I guess we could go to a grocery store and wander around for a while, but that was the only optoin. The library in town was closed and the church across the street was locked. So I sat outside, occasionally respraying the deet all over me to keep the evil insects at bay.

Later that night, as I was lying in bed, I thought about the next day, wondering if I was going to feel an amazing sense of accomplishment. I knew I wouldn't. I was preparing myself for a very anticlimactic day. I remember feeling disappointment when we got to San Francisco last fall. We arrived, we were excited to get the city and ride over the Golden Gate Bridge, but once we were in the city, I didn't really feel the sense of accomplishment. We took a couple of token pictures; ones I forced Ira to sit through. Then we just wanted to find our way to the place we were staying. Once we got there, we just wanted to shower and relax. The first half of trip was over; and that was that. I felt disaapointed I wasn't more excited about the accomplishment. The only thing I was excited about, was not having to ride my bike for a while and the constant access I had to a bathroom.

I was preparing myself for the same thing when we arrived in Halifax and I was not disappointed. We arrived, found our way to our host's house and immediatly set to getting clean and relaxing. Ira and I spoke breifly about how great it was and that was that.

I don't realy feel disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm for being at our end goal. Don't get me wrong, we are both really glad. But Halifax, no matter how great and wonderful, is just another city. To reach the goal is wonderful but looking back reaching our goal was never really our goal. The experience of reaching the goal was the true focal point. Cheesy but true: "The Journey is the Destination".

So we are in Halifax, inside a house. I took a bath this morning and I might take another tonight. I know in the future, I may miss this lifestyle we've been living, but right now, I am ready to go back to a regular life. We experienced so much in the past year, had such an amazing journey. I can spend a lot of time now rexperiencing it again through my memories, our blog and all our pictures. It will take a while for the real accomplishment to sink in, and all the ways it will effect my life. Its ok, I don't feel the immediate rush of satisfaction of a job well done. Right now, I am just glad to be away from the bugs. So Ira and I are going to sit around and relax and enjoy hanging out in the city it took us 8,000 miles to reach.

Tent-blogging.

2007-06-28T18:35:00.000-07:00

We're camped in a town, down by this river that has a huge military ship floating in it. The ship is gray in the moonlight, menacing, and out of place in such a quaint little town. Suprisingly I'm getting an unlocked wireless signal right in our tent, so i'm lying here in my sleeping bag posting on the n800. Last night we camped in the wonderfuly remote Thomas Raddall Provincial Park. We had a little moonlit cove all to ourselves, until the mosquitoes came out and murdered us. The trade-off for Nova Scotia being so idyllic is that the bugs are savage at dusk, sending us on a four-alarm scramble into the tent. Not so relaxing after a day of riding. Our actual site last night was an exception, miraculously, so we had a campfire and looked at the full moon. The coyotes spent all night cackling in the woods, but nothing visited our tent.

The Ancient Mariners

2007-06-27T11:36:00.000-07:00

Most people on the Nova Scotia coast make their living as fisherman; lobster mostly.
The sea plays a huge role in the lives of the people here and they are very proud of their maritime heritage. Here is a memorial we passed yesterday

We've been touring a lot of lighthouses as we go along the coast.

This is the Seal Island Lighthouse.

You can climb to the top and see the lens. This lens took 1000 watt bulbs and could be seen for 18 miles.

A whale skeleton was laid out for display in this driveway.

We've been visiting museums which display many of the antique methods of fishing. In the front you can see an unopened can of lobster from the 1890's. Yum!

Whaling used to be a huge business in this area. On display at the museum we visited today was an antique whale harpoon gun.

And last but not least, mutant lobster claws!

Barrington, NS

2007-06-27T10:57:00.000-07:00

I can't think of a more Canadian food than poutine, so we ordered some for lunch. Though not on the menu, I overheared the waitress talking about lobster poutine! I regret not ordering it. All that people seem to do around here is fish for lobster. Villages will often be nothing more than some houses near a fishery. Maybe a shop selling industrial marine supplies, but not even groceries or a gas station.

It makes me sad to think about how impoverished the area is, and how dangerous a fisherman's life must be. There are monuments in every town to those who went out to sea and never came back. Every fisherman's yard is heaped with lobster traps, bouys, and giant coils of rope, making it easy to see how many rely on the trade.

Tonight we are camped by a huge old lighthouse. The coastal Highway 3 is marked as "The Lighthouse Route", and we've been making a point to visit as many of them as possible. They are short, wide, and octagonal on this part of the coast.

East of Yarmouth, NS

2007-06-26T13:56:00.000-07:00

We're camping on a ridge overlooking an inlet. The sunset glow on the water is beautiful. There are a billion mosquitoes outside the tent, a humming cloud fixed on carrying us away. We cooked in the tent and killed any that entered. Nova Scotians are the most outgoing people we've met on tour. They shout greetings from across yards or fields, welcoming us to the province and wishing us good luck. I have high hopes for this week. We have five days to ride around 250 miles, so the focus will be on taking in the scenery. The swarm outside is bloodthirsty. If the mosquitoes had scissors, we'd be fucked!

I took this picture the morning after I wrote this post. The mosquitoes were almost as bad!

CAT to Nova Scotia!

2007-06-25T10:37:00.000-07:00

We just rode a huge catamaran ferry from Bar Harbor to Yarmouth, so the Canadian portion of our trip has officially begun.

I came to the woods because I wanted to swim deliberatly

2007-06-25T10:26:00.001-07:00

I just wanted to back track a moment...

Since we didn't plan our route too carefully through Massachusettes, we weren't sure what to expect. We knew we didn;'t want to ride through Boston, so we rode straight north from Providence, which put us to the west of the urban sprawl. I was really happily surprised at how beautiful and pastoral the woods are in the area. I got really excited when we past a sign which read, "Welcome to Thoreau's Walden Pond".

It was a beautiful warm day, so we stopped for a swim. I've heard rumors that the pond was very polluted, but I could find no trace of it while we were there. The woods are all in tact around the water. The roads which lead out around it to the site of Thoreau's cabin are inaccessible by car and bicycle, so you can only get there by walking.

On the whole we found the experience to be most transcendental. Here is a pic where I am transcending gravity and my poor gymnastic skills to do a perfect hand stand.

Ira overcomes his fears in the wild blue yonder.

2007-06-25T09:37:00.000-07:00

Flying with Brent was my first time in a small prop plane. Sitting in the cockpit was like being in a small, older car, dangling thousands of feet off of the ground.

Brent, our host on Mt. Desert Island, is an avid aviator and offered to take us flying our second day in town.

I couldn't pass up the experience so I stifled my fear of heights and climbed in. My knees almost touched the controls, but the veiw was amazing. I thought about hippy mafia drug-runners flying across Mexico, or Alaskan bush pilots hopping between glacial lakes.

We looped along the coastline and over the ocean, the plane swaying as we moved from one airmass to another. Brent pointed out the odd shape of towns on the island, the way they fork out organicly in the crotch of natural harbors, instead of following roads or railroad tracks like anywhere inland.

(not a great example of what I was describing above, but isn't this river cool?)

By this time I was feeling at ease and looking down at the old mansions in the woods, and the blunt-nosed lobster boats with their constellations of bouys. We looped back into the wind and the plane slowed down, working hard to pull us back to the airstrip.

Fancy little shack, eh?

I was hanging onto my seat the whole time, palms sweating, but knowing I'd made the right choice to go up. Brent is president of his flying club, and a masterful pilot, so I felt bad about my obvious signs of fear. I didn't want to make him feel bad about the trip, which was an awesome experience.

One of the highlights was listening to the pilots talk to ground control. Every transmission was ended with "Bah Habah", as locals refer to the town in their thick Maine accent. Andrea and I agree that our first time flying in a small plane was a total success, and I think I could be persuaded to try it again. Andrea wasn't the slightest bit nervous the entire time, and was ecstatic to be in the air. She can't believe that I get so worked up over heights.

Check out the flickr set of our aerial tour.

Acadia National Park

2007-06-24T07:15:00.000-07:00

We are currently staying on Mount Desert Island home of Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park.

The island in incredibly beautiful with tons of trails through the mountains and miles of beautiful rocky shoreline.

We've been so busy while we've been here added with having only access to dial-up, we haven't been able to post as much about everything. I just wanted to quickly touch on things so you all won't think we've died.

We've been hiking, biking, swimming and flying all over the place. When I say flying I mean literally flying. Brent, our host here on the island has a pilot's license and we were lucky enough to talk him into taking us flying in his club's four seater plane the other day. We've never flown in such a small plane before and to have a personal tour of coastal Maine was really amazing!

Sunset on Pretty Pond, near the cabin we are staying at.

Sunset on Bar Harbor.

I don't have time to post all the pics, so click here to view our set on flickr.

Continuation of a popular theme...

2007-06-23T19:19:00.000-07:00

I knew I'd been missing something. Beer! In Portland Maine, for the second day in a row, we ran into a couple in a red Volkswagen, wandering around New England just like us. They had a beer-map, with brewery locations listed for the area. We found out that yes, there were many of these in Portland, and yes, we were invited to accompany them. The first place we visited was Allagash, named for a river in northern Maine and specialising in Belgian-style beers.

Allagash bottles their specialty beers in 750 ml bottles with corks. This bad boy does the corkin'.

Beer goggles! Haha get it? I'm hilarious. And stylish.

A block from Allagash was Geary's brewery, which isn't as widely distributed and who's beer I'd never tried. They were closing for the day but agreed to a short tour. It was the best brewery tour I've had! Our guide Steve was not only a brewer but the engineer resposible for laying out the whole place.

Claire and Ravi next to open fermetation tanks at Geary's brewery.

Steve uses a condenser coil to serve us beer from the tank.

Steve next to the hop percolator. Wort is pumped through this thing to mix it with hop juice. Steve was an amazing source of beer knowledge.

Guess which hand is mine? We spent the next few hours hanging out in town, exhausted from the extensive sampling.

We've reached Acadia.

2007-06-21T07:42:00.000-07:00

Maine is amazing! It reminds me of the Northern Midwest, if it were on the ocean. That is to say there are lush forests of pine and hardwood, lupines, blueberries, black bears, rolling hills, rock outcroppings, and little lakes hidden everywhere. Andrea always knows I like a place if I try to compare it to Wisconsin, so I'm going to say that the Maine harbor communities remind me of Ashland, Bayfield, and La Pointe. It's a little fancier in some places, and the Maritime atmosphere makes it unique. We've had both lobster and chowder and are going to repeat these experiences. Pictures will be posted soon.

2007-06-17T13:16:00.000-07:00

Massachusetts and New Hampshire were beautiful, and we'll post about them later, but the big news is that we just entered the last US state of the tour. It's kind of sad actually. I've been looking forward to the end, and now I'm not so sure. Oh well, at least it's rugged coastline and nature from here on out.

Cthulhu fhtagn!*

2007-06-15T11:35:00.000-07:00

"That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die." - Call of the Cthulhu

One of H.P. Lovecraft's homes in Providence.

Everyone who knows me realizes I'm a tremendous geek, so it should be no suprise that we couldn't visit Providence, RI, home of the cult horror fantasy writer H.P. Lovecraft, without poking around the dark corners for some other-dimesional creatures or nameless terror. Tragicly there is no historical center or Cthulhu giftshop, but a little googling turned up a map for a Lovecraft walking tour. This made for an entertaining afternoon hike through historic College Hill, the old part of providence where Poe and Lovecraft both hung out and drew inspiration for their scary stories.

Click here for our photo set from the walk.

On of the high-points was eating gigantic sandwiches at a shop on Benefit Street. They had every ingredient listed on chalkboards, overwhelming my hunger-addled brain in the same way the Lovecraftian cosmic horror maddens any mortal who tries to comprehend it. Anyway, here's the sandwich that Andrea ordered.

That's avacado on on there, not a tentacle.

*Cthulhu waits dreaming. I've been so tired from traveling lately that I'd love to join him in the city of R'lyeh for a while.

A good kind of sore.

2007-06-11T19:38:00.000-07:00

It was hard to leave New York, but the time had come, so we loaded the bikes this morning and flowed with the sea of Manhattan traffic untill it faded into the Bronx, thinned and stretched into Yonkers, and then we were in Connecticut.

We rode eighty-eight miles between Brooklyn and New Haven, making it the longest day of our trip to date. The continuous sprawl doesn't hurt our speed; banal suburban landscapes urging us along untill we're pacing the traffic. My legs ache like growing pains, or like a good day of running around the lawn as a kid. I have renewed enthusiasm to ride.

Just outside of Stratford my wheel made a sound like a coil of bailing wire had been sucked through the fender. I haven't figured out how, but the blade from a pais of scissors pierced my tire and was rattling against everything as the tube deflated. A tyvek boot solved the problem. I plan to ride this one for the rest of the trip, despite the damage. I've seen numerous pairs of broken scissors on the sholder before this, but the omen has gone unheeded until now. Who leaves broken scissors in the street anyway?

LUPA

2007-06-10T09:55:00.001-07:00

Our friend, Shawn, who has been making so many appearances on our blog lately, is an old friend from Chicago. He left us about 3 years ago, moving to New York to work in the Restaurant business. He is currently cooking at Lupa, one of Maria Batalli's restaurants. You know, Mario Batali, one of the food network's celebrity Chefs, the red haired Italian Chef, from Iron Chef America. Although Shawn slaves away 10-12 hour shifts in kitchen, he had never actually eaten there. When he invited us to come along with him, even though we are on a budget, we couldn't refuse.

The full name of the restaurant is Lupa Osteria Romana. I asked Shawn and our server, Elizabeta, what a Roman style Osteria is and they both described it as being a less formal establishment with a bar on one side and a few small tables. One can order a cafe or cappuccino at the bar and perhaps a few small food items as well before sitting down. So in essence, an Osteria is more like a cafe. Lupa, being more formal, resembles more a trattoria or tavern style restaurant, and is an Osteria in name only.

Lupa is located near Washington Park, home of the famous Washington Park Arch. The restaurant itself resides on a small and cozy side street. The atmosphere is warm and earthy. The walls are painted a burnt orange color with a beautiful Mahogany Bar lining the left wall and dark shelves containing their wine selection on the right. The atmosphere is very welcoming and unpretentious.

We decided to make lunch reservations for Friday at 2:30. We made a quick pit stop to pick up some beer before arriving. Shawn said it was customary for fellow coworkers to buy beer for the line cooks when coming to eat as a token of appreciation.

We arrived and Shawn quickly started introducing us to everyone there. The staff was incredibly friendly and very excited to see Shawn come in as a customer. We were seated immediately and the menus came flying out. Shawn and I had discussed how we wanted to go about ordering. I love sampling as much food as possible, but Shawn felt ordering a la carte was better then the sampling menu. We decided to do a la carte family style so we could sample the specific things we wanted. We all agreed the best person to choose the items would be Shawn, since not only is he is intimately involved with menu, which he cooks 5 days a week, but we also felt a little intimidated by the menu which was predominantly in Italian.

The food was served in three courses; the antipasto, the primi (pasta course), and the secondi (the entrée course). Shawn had been telling us how they do all their own butchering and curing of meats, including many different sausages and prosciutto.

For our antipasto course, we ordered the Grande under the carne section, so we could get a sampling of their in house cured meats. The Grande was served with four slices each of Prosciutto Di Parma, Coppa, which is cured pork shoulder, and Salumi, a small round salami. It also came with a bowl of sliced Lingua, which is beef tongue, and finally 2 slices of Testa, also known as headcheese. Beside this, we also ordered Tuna with Cannelini beans, Marinated Eggplant with Mint and Radicchio with Anchovies. In addition to all of this, the chef sent out an Escarole salad with walnuts, red onions and pecorino.

The prosciutto, salumi and coppa were all very traditional. They were good, but nothing out of the ordinary. The Lingua was very good. I have had tongue before and I remember it being very chewy. Lupa's Lingua was very tender with a surprisingly sweet flavor. The tuna had a good flavor but was a little tough and over cooked. My favorite was the marinated eggplant. It had excellent texture being still slightly crisp and the balance between the slightly acidic lemon flavored marinade with fresh taste of the mint with the subtlety of the eggplant was amazing.

I wanted to be open minded about the Testa aka, head cheese. Headcheese is made of the left over portions of meat from the pigs head cooked in Gelatin. I have always heard stories of my Austrian grandfather making headcheese every year when he made sausage. He loved it, but my mother said everyone else in the family hated it. I tried it both on its own and on bread. I just didn't like it. While the flavor of the meat itself was nice and pungent, I couldn't get over the gelatinous consistency or taste. It just felt as though I was eating mucousy fat with meat chunks. I wont be testing out the testa again.

Here I am trying the Testa the first time. You can see how well I'm enjoying it.

For the primi course we sampled three different kinds of pasta dishes.

I first tried the Bucatini All' Amatriciana, which is a long hollow noodle, like a mix of a macaroni and spaghetti noodle. It was served with tomato sauce and a fried meat (the name eludes me) cured similar to prosciutto but made with the cheek of the pig. Ira criticized it for being too heavy, but I thought it was delicious. The salty meat mixed with the sweet of the tomato sauce created an excellent balance. This balance I found to be missing in the next pasta dish, the name of which also eludes me. It was a traditional spaghetti noodle with the same meat as the first pasta dish, this time cooked in an egg cream sauce. The sauce was incredibly rich and savory. Together with the pork, it felt too salty, but was still very good. Lastly, I tried the Linguine and Mussels. This dish was very nice in its simplicity. The sauce was prepared with the liquor of the mussels with just a bit of butter and lemon to give it body. It was served over the linguine with the mussels and a few slices of jalapeno peppers. The peppers gave the flavor just the right zing to keep the taste from being too boring in its simplicity. I felt the sauce and noodles, paired with the muscles for a bit of sweet and the peppers for some zing worked quite harmoniously. Ira, who always prefers hot food, liked this dish the best.

The secondi course, or entrée, we had Saltimbocca and Trout. Saltimbocca, which is made of Veal, prosciutto & sage, literally is translated to “jumps into the mouth”. It was incredibly delicious and rich. The prosciutto giving just the right amount of seasoning and texture to the delicate veal. The trout, which was served whole, fried in a light breading with crushed capers, was a bit of a disappointment. The meat was not as tender, feeling slightly over cooked and definitly under seasoned. The subtle flavor of the fish was nice, but the dish didn't jump into the mouth as the previous dish.

before:

after:

The entrées were accompanied by side dishes of charred asparagus, which were nicely crunchy and fresh, potatoes served in a fried pancake style and sea beans. I had never heard of sea beans before. Sea beans also known as samphire is a type of seaweed. It is naturally very crisp and salty from the seawater, so it was simply served with butter and was really very good.

After all this food, as you can imagine, we all felt pretty destroyed. When Elizabeta came back and introduced us to the desert options we all felt as though we had better pass. However, when Elizabeta came back to the table, she was bearing not the expected bill, but four spoons, which she dispersed around the table with a parting smirk. Next two beautiful dishes appeared at our table. One plate held a white cream custard with a black berry sauce and garnished with fresh black berries. The other plate presented us with chocolate dipped gelato of cherries and truffles, served with a chocolate cherry ganache.

Both were delicious; the first was light and creamy, and the second dish was rich and sumptuous.

Along with these two dishes, we were also brought four large shot glasses holding a white liquid Shawn jokingly referred to as Slurpino. The glasses held a mixture of lemon gelato, Prosecco (an Italian white sparkling wine) and vodka. The sparkling wine gave the gelato a light and crisp taste and the vodka helped tame the sweetness. Marcus, bowed out of eating the deserts due to a lactose intolerance, so I just had to help him finish his drink as well as my own. Shawn particularly was busting the buttons from his shirt, both in pride of the food as well as from being bloated.

By the time the meal was over, 2 1/2 hours had elapsed. My stomach was feeling distended from all the food we ate, and I realized I was feeling pretty tipsy from our final desert, which turned out to be far more alcoholic then it tasted. All in all, we had an amazing meal. I have a tendency of feeling slightly awkward and self-conscious when in a fine dining experience, but having Shawn there to explain everything, made it so easy. Shawn's coworkers were all incredibly friendly and helpful which lent to very comfortable and unpretentious meal. We even got a quick tour of the kitchen afterwards, which was very exciting to me.

Although the bill was the equivalent to the budget of multiple days, it was totally worth it.

Thanks Shawn!

The Dominican Experience

2007-06-09T11:18:00.000-07:00

In my previous blog, I spoke of our ride up to Washington Heights neighborhood, which included the getting lost in the Bronx debacle. We weren't just riding for riding sake. We had a higher purpose, food! Shawn was leading us north to meet up with our friend Dana, to sample what turned out to be an amazing Dominican restaurant.

With the help of Dana and her fluent spanish speaking skills, we navigated our way through a menu full of Caribbean tasties such as tostones (fried plantains) and mofongo con purco (a mountain of mashed plantains and pork). Being from a tropical island, they love plantains! Their true specialty is pollo (chicken). We ordered a whole chicken, roasted rotisserie style as well as sides of ensalade de aguacate and rice and beans. We drank Presidente Pilsner Cerveza. The bottle reminded me of the only beer we had in Ecuador, which had a copper label reading only Pilsner. You could get Heineken some places if you were lucky, but in most places the only beer was Pilsner.

Everything was delicious. The beans were left whole with a more liquidy sauce. The chicken was tender and falling from the bone. It was served with a lime garlic sauce, which complimented the well-seasoned meat with a tangy sweet and sour zing.

The tostones were fried just enough to be crunchy but not too greasy. The mofongo was a happy medium between having a nice mashed texture without being too starchy or too slimy. It was served with an excellent slightly sweet tomato based pork sauce, which complimented the more savory flavor of the fried pork and plantains.

(Although Dana appears to be disgusted by the Mofongo, she is really disgusted that we haven't started eating it yet.)

We had a great time. With Dana ordering for us, we were saved the awkwardness of attempting to communicate in broken spanish. We ate family style which enabled us to have more or less of anything we particularly liked or disliked. I ate everything with gusto and felt totally destroyed afterwards.

The price of five hungry youngsters eating to the point of destruction, all the above mentioned foods with two rounds of cervaza only cost $10 each. What a deal! Especially when you consider, this is New York!!!

The Malecon Restaurante on the corner of 175th and Broadway gets a happy pat on the pocket book, a contented growl from my overworked intenstinal tract and three delightful yum yums from my tongue.

Afterwards, Dana took us to a benift for the Washington Heights Cultural Center. Their space was a very interesting multi-level gallery space.

Musical performances where being conducted on the first floor and a display of local artists photography and paintings were visible in the lofted second floor space.

We drank more cerveza and mingled, but did not stay too long because our huge dinner was causing a food coma induced sleepiness.

City Riding is Like a Video Game

2007-06-09T08:39:00.000-07:00

Riding in the NY IS SO FUN!! Video game action. You've got to maneuver through the streets with cars all around you, pedestrians coming at you from all sides, dudes pushing falafel stands in the bike lane, pedicabs (bicycle powered cabs), all while rubernecking to the left and right to view all the sights.

New York drivers are not that rude, they are just really aggressive. In Chicago and elsewhere around the country (especially on the west coast), if you inch into an intersection, and get in front of a car, they will always stop, with different levels of resentment, to let you pass. They don't want to hit you. Here, you can inch in front of a car, and they just keep coming. You have to back off or get out of the way. So, it's not as easy to run red lights here.

Yesterday we rode the whole length of Manhattan from the lower east side, before the numbered streets begin, all the way to 185th street in Washington Heights, the neighborhood at the tip of Manhattan island located above Harlem.

We got lost at one point, and ended up in the Bronx. How do you get lost on an island and end up getting off the island. Well, I don't really have an answer for you. But when your friend (Shawn)

who is new to NY is leading the caravan, and gets directions by asking "which side is the water supposed to be on" and the answer is the left, and we are on an island surrounded by water on both sides, you know you will end up in the Bronx...the south Bronx. we asked some policemen there, where "Broadway" was, and they point back the way we came, laughing.

"white kids gettin lost in the Bronx" ha hahhahhaaa. They gave us excellent directions, and we got back on track.

So yesterday we got to ride from Brooklyn to Manhattan to Harlem to the Bronx (accidentally) back to Harlem and then up to Washington Heights. On the way back, Shawn and I rode along riverside drive on the west side of the island and got great views of the George Washington Bridge and Jersey Shore.

Its Impossible To Go To Bed Early In New York

2007-06-09T07:48:00.001-07:00

We've been in New York now for a week. Its really gone by fast. We've been having a lot of fun just hanging out with different people. We have a bunch of friends who have moved here from Chicago or other parts of the Midwest to hang out with, and they have introduced us to some of their friends so we've never been at a loss for something to do or someone to hang out with. At first, this fact was allowing myself to feel really cool. Last night I met this girl from the UK who was here traveling by herself. She was telling me what a great time she was having, how much she was doing and how many cool people she kept meeting. This made me reflect that there is always something to do in New York. While we are lucky to have friends who live here, we would still be busy little bees going around seeing all kinds of amazing stuff even if we didn't know anybody because you just can't get around it. Everywhere you look, there are masses of people and something going on. This is a very colorful city both literally and metaphorically.

This is a fast city.

a view of 5th avenue

Although we've been doing some touristy things, we've been mostly just hanging out. We've been staying with Nora and Jeff, who have been amazingly hospitable and have let us crash at their house all week. We generally have a rule which we instated at the beginning of the trip that we do not stay in any one place longer then 5 days. It seemed 5 days was the number when the welcome started to wear out. Our hosts would change subtly, becoming slightly less gracious for wanting their regular life back without our shit all over their house, and we ourselves would start to get antsy and want to get back on the road. After making this rule, we have only broken it twice since. Once in San Francisco where we stayed a week with Trevor and Camille and now in New York. Both couples, Trevor and Camille and Nora and Jeff have been incredibly amazing to us in terms of allowing us full reign of their homes and personal freedom to come and go at will. Both cities are so amazing, I don't see how anyone with the ability to stay as long as possible could leave before a weeks end.

Nora and Jeff had a really fun BBQ last weekend. Nora and Jeff both being from Wisconsin, had gone home in the past couple of weeks and brought back brats. Of course to us Midwesterners, Bratwurst is a staple. Here in NY, it is more of a delicacy. So they invited friends over, fired up the coals and spent a lazy afternoon cooking up the imported brats as well as other food items different friends brought over.

A massive downpour could have disrupted our entire day, but Ira came to the rescue and erected a tarp structure across the patio and it saved the day (and night). Thank god he had so much practice on this trip, he has finally become truly proficient.

We got together with our friend Katie for an afternoon of drinking beer.

Later in the night, she took us to her friends birthday party which was being hosted in a daycare center.

We drank many beer and then raced around on small trikes. It was fun. I won both races, although due to a drunken race official, first place was awarded to the person who came in dfl (last place) so I was robbed of one of my trophies. Oh well. I still beat Ira both times and that's all that counts.

We've hooked up with our friend Anita a couple of times, which is always nice. I love hanging out with her because she is very calm and this helps me to relax. Paticularly in this frenzied city, she takes everything in stride. We've been hanging out at her apartment, which she is lucky enough to have to herself, as well as on her roof. She has a great view of the Chrystler building which I think is the most beautiful sky scraper especially by night.
Our goooood buddy Marcus also came up from Richmond to hang out and is staying with Anita.

We've also been hanging out with our friend Shawn a lot. He is an old friend from Chicago. Ira and he used to wrench together at Rapid Transit. We've been riding around town and eating lots of food which I will tell you about in other posts because it would take up too much space here.

All in all, I heart the big apple.

How much pizza can you eat?

2007-06-06T09:23:00.000-07:00

At least a slice per day. Chicken-bacon-bbq sauce slice from Vinnie's.

Relaxing in the city.

2007-06-05T12:00:00.000-07:00

Chinatown is one of the best places we've been in New York. The availibility of cheap snacks is overwhelming. I had no less than an eggroll, a curry chicken roll, a fish bun, a steamed pork bun, two lotus cakes, a mango rice bun, and at least a few other things. The most notable thing besides food is the black(gray?) market stalls that sell every designer knockoff imaginable. It was fun to haggle for cheap stuff and be shown around the secret backrooms full of Gucci and Chanel handbags.

Cars are stored in this giant vending machine while their owners go about their business in Manhattan.

Chinese rolls and buns are stored here before I pig out on them.

Anita is a Chicago ex-pat who we caught up with last night. We had pizza, italian ice, and hung out on her roof.

Shawn is one of our most-missed Chicago-to-NYC transplants. He's done well for himself while staying true to his roots.

Nora and Jeff had a cookout on Sunday with Wisconsin beer and brats. It was a success.

We built a large tarp structure to deflect the torrents of rain. One of their friends brought cachaca and made Caipirinhas with sugar and lime.

It's great to have friends in town, although all of the fun is exhausting.

I haven't rode my bike around town too much yet, but Andrea was cruising around Brooklyn when she took this shot.

I'm looking forward to checking out Manhattan this evening by bike. Cross your fingers for me.

Hanging out in the park is pretty much the best thing you can do on a summer evening. I'll check back soon.

First night in NY

2007-06-02T08:44:00.000-07:00

We went to Manhattan last night for a free outdoor Animal Collective show. It was people soup- impossible to move without being too close to a stranger. This seems normal in NYC, so we found a good place to sit and enjoyed the summer evening.

Andrea getting on the train.

Nora, our hostess.

This isn't even pointed at the stage, there were a million people everywhere.

I love summer in the city.

Hey, I'm in New York, Lets Get a Gun and Go to a Broadway Show

2007-06-01T14:21:00.000-07:00

We made it. We've been zig zagging all over the fucking place. We had to ride north 15 miles to cross two bridges, then ride 6 miles south to cross another bridge which brought us to Staten Island. We got the ferry which brought us back north to Manhatten, where we rode 2 miles to get to the Brooklyn Bridge which took us to, you guessed it...BROOKLYN.

Taking the Staten Island Ferry was very cool because we got to enter Manhattan from New York Harbor. We passed the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. My Grandfather's family passed through here on their way to America when they were fled war torn Austria in the beginning of WWI. I became very contemplative on the ferry as I viewed the statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.

I thought of the thousand teaming masses of immigrants who came this very way into this great city. I imagined the excitement yet fear they must have felt. Knowing that as the boat landed, their long sea voyage was over, but a new long voyage of creating a new life in a foreign place was to begin. I felt a small amount of fear at the thought of navigating our way to our friends house in Brooklyn, but as I already speak English and am and Ammerican citizen, I guess I didn't have it quite so bad.

Riding through the 85 degree heat, with all the crazy aggressive drivers here, Ira and I definitly felt as though we fit Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem on the Statue of Liberty. "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses".

As we rode across the Brooklyn Bridge, I was reminded of riding across the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. We felt a great accomplishment riding across that bridge, which marked the end of the first half of our trip. I also felt a sense of accomplishment as we rode into NY. For so long, we have been looking forward to being in NY and now we are finally here. It may not be the exact end of our trip, but it is the beginning of the end. This will be our final stretch, from NY to Nova Scotia.

I have been looking forward to visiting Brooklyn to experience the amazing ethnic diversity here. I have heard Brooklyn is the most ethnically diverse place in the world. I've been looking forward to visiting different ethnic markets and grocers while here. When we first got off the Brooklyn bridge, we immediatly rode through a Hasidic Jewish neighborhood. All the men and boys had on bowler hats with ringlets, and the women all wore dresses and most had headscarves on.

It was very exciting. I felt like I was straight out of the movie "The Chosen". We've just got set up at our friend's apartment and are getting ready to go out for some Friday night fun.

Q: How many hipsters does it take to change a lightbulb?

2007-06-01T13:42:00.000-07:00

A: You don't know?

Hi, we're in Brooklyn! We'll be in Williamsburg for the next few days. Andrea fearlessly navigated through Staten Island and part of Manhattan too. I was mildly terrified. This is the first place we've been that has had worse drivers than Chicago. We'll keep you updated.

Two Different Experiences

2007-05-31T11:58:00.000-07:00

I have been receiving phone calls, text messages and emails from people all asking me about Ira's condition. We really appreciate the support. Ira is fine, and feeling much better. We did have some hard days there trying to get to Philly. It was really hot 95+ degrees. We had brutal sun and then out of nowhere a blasting rain, in which I got drenched to the skin. Then the sun was out again beating down on us (so it wasn't completely miserable being wet).

Upon arriving to our friend Shelby's house in Philly after two long grueling 80 mile days up evil steep little hills, Ira collapsed on the ground proclaiming it had been the hardest day of the whole trip. I laughed off his comment, saying it had been hard, but he is just exaggerating. Later when Ira collapsed again for real in the hallway due to heat exhaustion and dehydration, I realized, he was telling the truth. That day had been the hardest day for him.

Although the days between DC and Philly had been hard and strenuous, I would by no means categorize them as the hardest. I experienced much harder days in the past. The first half of the trip was much more grueling for me. I remember a day I collapsed due to dehydration, fatigue both physical and emotional when we were in the Bad Lands.

The badlands are the first piece of rugged wilderness you come upon when heading west. Riding through Minnesota and South Dakota, you see miles and miles of rolling farmland. While I appreciated the beauty of the rolling fields, my heart and imagination was still wrapped up in the promise of the west, the untamed rugged wilderness just over the horizon of the tamed domesticated plains. Arriving in the badlands, Ira and I both felt the drunken excitement of this first taste beauty and magnificence of the west. We wanted to be explorers and chart a course which few white men had ever dared tread. Of course being surrounded by all manner of huge RVs hindered our ideas of being intrepid pioneers. So when we heard about a relatively unvisited rustic campground miles down a small dirt road which stemmed off the main 25 mile tourist loop, we felt compelled to visit. The rustic campground was only accessible by foot or bike and had no water, so we would need to pack water in. The idea of being out in this rugged landscape in a place not many people visited truly excited us. We arrived outside of the park at night, so we found a campground to pitch our tent, and planned to enter the park early the next morning.

The past week had been very hot, averaging in the upper 90's. We had been getting up at 5, to be on the road by sunrise, around 6 every morning to get as many miles done before the heat of midday when we would find a place to rest out of the sun. We were having our first rest day in a week, we slept in slightly later then usual that morning. I woke up at 6 so I could watch the sunrise over the desert landscape. I tried to get Ira up, but as with every morning, it was a hard task. I didn't actually convince him to get up until 7 so we didn't get on the road until 8, by which time it was already 92 degrees. I knew we were in for a hot day. We packed as much water as we could, and proceeded into the park. It was stunning and beautiful, but the stark landscape with the unbearable heat made me fully understand why it had been named the badlands.

There were three large climbs on the road through the park. Up until this point, the only hills we had climbed were through Wisconsin. Wisconsin hills can be steep and rolling, but they are never very long. These hills were our first experience of sustained climbing. I didn't have the confidence or the skill of climbing I have since gained through my experiences through the Rockies and Appalachians. I was still completely terrified of the idea of the Rocky mountains yet looming ahead of us, so the big hills we were trying to climb that day really had my psyched out.

While I was waiting for Ira to get out of bed that morning, I had been debating about whether it was a good idea to camp in the park that night. With the heat and the rustic campground with no water, I wasn't sure how much water we would need, or if we would be able to bring enough. I was still infatuated with the idea of camping in such a romantic location, but reality was starting to creep in. I went along with the idea because I knew Ira wanted to do it so badly and I didn't want to be the type of girl who was afraid to do something adventurous.

As we rode, it was getting hotter and hotter. We were drinking too much of our water too quickly. I realized we were not going to have enough water to spend the night if we kept drinking at that rate. Ira, being bigger needs more food and water then myself. So I started rationing my water intake on our ride. Looking back I realize how incredibly stupid that was, but I was trying to do my best to make the situation work. I knew how much Ira wanted to camp out, and I thought by my calculations he was drinking way more then I had thought. I figured I would drink less to make it up. I was listening to my ipod while riding, and I was timing it so I could take one drink of water for ever other song, each song being about 3-5 minutes. Its so ridiculous now that I look back on it, but at the time, well, I had a goal and this is how I thought I could achieve it; by assessing our resources and rationing them out in a controlled way. Stupid.

As we continued our ride, I felt myself getting weaker and weaker. Because I was so intimidated by riding hills, I chocked my fatigue up to not having much experience riding hills. I thought it was because the hills were steeper then I was used to riding. I just needed to get over the exhaustion and discomfort, because bigger hills were in our future. We would stop occasionally to look at the beautiful scenery from a nice vantage point, but all I could see was a dry wasteland who's rugged beauty was killing me. Normally I am the photographer, but I didn't have the will to take any pictures, so I had given the camera to Ira. He kept stopping to get a good shot and I just went along trying to have fun and enjoy myself but all the while feeling totally exhausted and dead.

I kept going, but soon I was past the breaking point. I fell off my bike and collapsed on the side of the road. I was gasping for breath, and intermittently crying. The sun seemed so hot and bright I felt as though I was trapped in its firm grip, unable to get off the ground. Ira knew I was feeling fatigued, but he had no idea I was in such a bad state until now. I started berating him quietly (because my voice was raspy) about how this was all his fault. He had talked me into this, he had pushed for us to camp that night. How he was drinking too much water and we weren't going to have enough. How I was trying to ration the water so we could make it... He looked at me horrified.

"I can't do this. I can't do this. This is hell." I kept repeating over and over again.
"You've only drank one bottle of water?" he asked.
"I knew we weren't going to have enough, by the way you've been gurgling it down" I replied.
He looked at me with a sad face. "Its way more important for you to be drinking enough water then for us to camp out tonight. Here, we're just going to sit here, until you drink all of this" he said as he handed me a full bottle of water. "When you feel up to getting up, we'll head into town. We don't need to stay out here tonight."

So we sat on the side of the road, until I drank enough to where I could get up and get back on my bike. Ira offered to find someone to give us a ride into town with their truck, but stubbornly I refused. We were very close to the end of the scenic loop at which point it was only 8 more miles, all down hill into town. We arrived in Wall, South Dakota, home of Wall Drug Store the biggest tourist trap in the world. We got set up in a campground and went over to the drug store for our "free water" which is their famous tag line. Being in civilization again, made me want to cry out in happiness, even if the civilization consisted of a mostly geriatric group shopping for collectible spoons.

It took me a whole week to get my strength back after being so dehydrated and demoralized. We had two more horrible days of riding after that until we got to Rapid City for a rest, including 20 miles on the interstate with 35 mph head winds and 100 degree weather, all the while, I was suffering from horrible blisters on my bum. We met up with some amazing people there who took us into their house and gave us wonderful hospitality so I could rest.

Looking back, these days were the hardest for me. I was so close to turning around and going home. Yet Ira didn't really have that hard of a time. At the time, I remember Ira writing a post about our trip through the badlands. This is the only reference to my horrible experience there. "We planned to camp in the park at a rustic campsite (no water!) but the heat and exhaustion made us alter our plans and head for town after the scenic climb." This is partly because it was the beginning of the trip, I was unsure if we were going to be able to accomplish this huge goal and I was unable at the time to admit any of the really hard elements of the trip. I didn't know how to gauge i was just being a baby or if things were really that hard. It was also due to the fact that Ira didn't really understand how hard that day was for me. He had yet to experience any days that tested his metal; tested his determination that fully.

Ira and I have been together for 7500 miles of riding, through 23 states, yet we have very different stories to tell of each days adventure. We've experienced things very differently. On days he is doing good, I may be dying and vice versa. I remember so many climbs in the Rockies, he just cranked up no problem, while it took every ounce of fiber in my body to get me to the top. I also remember a climb through the Appalachians where I was in the flow of the climb, and Ira was dying. A truck came by and asked us if we wanted a ride, and I replied, we didn't, because usually I am the one who wants one and Ira enjoyed riding the hills. He admitted later he felt so horrible and exhausted, he would have taken a ride in a minute except once I said I didn't want a ride, his pride wouldn't let him accept one either; he said he was afraid he would never hear the end of it.

Its both a good and bad thing. It is easy for us to discount the problems the other is having, if we are feeling in stride. Particularly for me, since Ira is a stronger rider then me, it is sometimes hard for me to understand he is having a hard time if I am not. So sometimes we push each other past our limitations because we aren't really communicating with each other clearly. On the flip side though having a completely different experience can be rewarding. It's wonderful at the end of the day to sit down, after having ridden the same 70 mile stretch of land and compare stories. "hey did you see that dead boar off the side of the road?" "No, where was that." or "That small waterfall was amazing wasn't it?" "What waterfall?". Although together, we both experience things totally differently. We fill each other in on what the other missed or overlooked and we get to experience the day in a whole new way.

Three states in one day!

2007-05-31T11:50:00.000-07:00

Last sunday we started the day in Maryland.

By mid morning we were Deleware.

(there weren't any official state crossing sings for either of these states, so we took what we could get)

We crossed briefly into Pensylvania for a mile and then we were in Deleware again.

Finally by the end of the day we were in Pensylvania for real.

We're in Jersey now and soon we'll be in NY. Ahh the East Coast. So many small states, it really makes it seem like were getting much faster. I remember it took us a month to get across Montana.

Backing up. DC monuments

2007-05-31T11:04:00.000-07:00

So, to back up briefly. Of course we would be unamerican if we took a trip to DC and didn't take a tour of the presidential monuments. Here are a couple quick pics.

Our tour begins with the famous Washington Monument.

A view of the Lincoln Monument across the reflective pool.

I spent some time people watching at the Lincoln Monument.

The Jefferson Monument. I think Thomas Jefferson was one of our most interesting presidents. He was a true renaissance man; he was a skilled statesman, inventor, agriculturalist, writter and as shown by the number of children he fathered, a very charming man as well.

Here is the Franklin Roosevelt Monument. It was really quite nice. Appart from the grandious architectural monuments, the FDR memorial combines art and nature as you walk a winding path which leads you past waterfall fountains and abstract sculptures. Interspersed are statues of FDR and Elenor as well as quotations carved into the red stone documenting his 12 years as president though the Great Depression to World War II.

As you leave the FDR memorial, you can talk a quiet walk under the cherry trees which over hang th Potomac. I was told this walk is breathtaking in the spring when the trees are all in bloom.

2007-05-30T16:46:00.000-07:00

Hey, we made it. I feel much better.

Philly was pretty great. We hung out with Carlos and wandered around town.

Today we rode to Cranford, NJ. New Jersey is much more wooded and pastoral than I expected. No sludge to be seen. When we got there I had a fancy beer and petted the kitten.

The pain, part two.

2007-05-28T22:42:00.000-07:00

I collapsed on the lawn when we reached Shelby's house in Philly. We rode seventy-eight miles on a day when I wanted to give up at thirty. I kept telling people that yesterday was the hardest day of the entire trip. I was so dehydrated that I woke up with a headache today, and proceded to black out on my way to the bathroom. I woke up from an interesting dream and found myself in the hallway with carpet burn on my forehead. I threw up, sweated a lot, and then laid down on the tile for another nap. I thought that I was having a reaction to pain killers, but we confirmed that I hadn't taken enough to knock me out, and I laid down on the couch until I felt ok.

I have a really high pain tolerance, which my dentist will confirm. The problem is that I'll often keep going on the bike when I should probably stop. I noticed muscle spasms early in the day, but we had to keep going and I powered through them. There were many times when I should have rested and drank Gatorade, but sometimes you have to be a diesel and keep climbing because the psychology is your sole motivation. It always hurts later on.

I figured out why we saw all of the rich folks yesterday: we rode past Willmington, Delaware, the geographical location of all that is wrong with America. Sound familiar? That's where you send your credit card payments! It's also the city featured wistfully at the and of Fight Club.

DC to Philly- the pain.

2007-05-27T10:33:00.000-07:00

It's been a scorching two day ride through near-vertical hills. Make it stop! We have thirty miles left today. At least it's pretty. Baltimore was dirt-eating poor, but people around here are dripping money.

Today we sailed the 7 seas, flew a plane and were on TV!

2007-05-24T15:18:00.000-07:00

We visited the National Geographic Museum in D.C. today. The current exhibit is for kids, but we had fun anyway.

I gave a weather cast on tv!

Here in DC, a clear day with no chance of rain, high in the mid 80's. Snow flurries expected in the north today. 12 inches of accumulation in Chicago. Sorry guys.

Then I sailed the seven seas. Here I am turning the rudder navigating with the North Star.

Made sure to secure my life preserver before stepping foot on my craft.

Next I took to the air in a chartered Jet airliner flying over the jungles of Malaysia to deliver supplies to our men on the ground.

I was only the copilot. Most of the responsibility of our safe flight fell on the shoulders of our 7 year old Captain Katie.

Then it was back to the sea to join an underwater shipwreck exploration of Blackbeards famed vessel, the Queen Anne's Revenge.

Our exploits made us rich with booty and we became famous explorers!

Ira's earth shattering discoveries of new royal tombs in the Valley of the Kings made him famous. Today he was photographed for the cover of the National Geographic comming out in October of 2008!

Keep an eye out.

It's nice out in DC.

2007-05-23T13:42:00.000-07:00

And we've been walking around a lot. The museums are amazing and make me envious.I saw the work bench that the Wright Brothers had in their bike shop, plus a lot of cool airplanes and art.

This whole bike touring thing is a lifestyle. It's got a big payoff(no job, exciting locale) but in general it's not too glamourous(one outfit, few parties).

Some times I feel like this.

It's hard to be too bummed out, however, when there are so many fascinating things to look at.

Pastoral Virigina

2007-05-21T08:30:00.000-07:00

Stonewall Jackson

2007-05-21T08:10:00.000-07:00

We've been passing through a lot of Civil War sites. On our way through Fredericksburg, we passed the Stonewall Jackson Shrine. This is the exact bed with blanket he died in. Above is his statue found on Monument Drive in Richmond, Va.

We also rode through the Fredericksburg battle ground. As we progressed through the 5 mile stretch of road, we could read signs describing the battle as it progressed. The woods today are peaceful and quiet which contrast so greatly with the scene descibed by historians. As I rode through the woods, I listened to the Cold Mountain soundtrack. It was a perfect choice, good blue grass which was supposed to sound near to civil war era music.

Here is the Fredericksburg Cemetary. All the mounds are different levels of graves on the hills. Approximatly 1800 deaths in 24 hours.

Although I can not consider myself to be a civil war buff by any means, it was difficult not to feel the impact of the scene. The surrounding land has been left completely unaltered (in terms of developoment) and the silent woods and beautiful meadow give off a definite sense of sombre reflection honoring the thousands of americans (union and confederate) who perished 145 years ago in the horribly bloody battle of Fredericksburg.

What to do in Richmond, VA

2007-05-21T07:29:00.001-07:00

We'll start by riding to the James River.

We go over the river and through the woods.

Then we will go swimming in the rapids.

The men will act manly with Marcus showing us his guns and Ira flashes the Dale Earnhardt gang sign (halo over the three).

I will act feminine and demure.

Then after lounging in the sun for a while we go back into the woods to jump from the rope swing.

Click here for a video of Ira jumping from the rope swing.

Then I will climb to the top of one of the trees and jump the 25 feet down into the river. Here I prove I can still scream in a realy high pitch. Watch.

Later we will go back to Marcus's house and relax on the screened in porch. Fun times. Thanks, Marcus!

The easiest way to make $60000.

2007-05-21T06:40:00.000-07:00

Here's a piece of unsubstantiated but fascinating outer banks history. Centuries ago, some ancestor of the French Midgett family was either shipwrecked or stranded on Hatteras, and went on to sire the largest family on the Outer Banks, to the extent that "Midgett" has become the most common name in Coast Guard history.

Story has it(and I'm sure this was in the paper, though I've yet to find it) that back in the Seventies, Joseph "Mac" Midgett saw a barge overloaded with jet fuel washed up on the beach somewhere near Rodanthe, and keeping with the local tradition of piracy, he took a shotgun under each arm and walked out into the storm, climbed on top of the barge, and claimed it under the salvage law of the sea. The storm subsided and quite a crowd gathered, including police, reporters, and lawyers from the shipping company who's barge Mac had claimed. The six-six, three hundred pound armed man stood his ground, and the barge turned out to be loaded over legal capacity with volatile fuel, so eventually a deal was struck and Mac climbed down to the beach to the tune of sixty thousand dollars. Apparently Mac invested the money in a service station at the north end of Hatteras which thrives to this day. We stopped and had ice cream there, but could find no record of the story I just related. I'd be interested to hear more information from anyone who can support or refute this tale, as it was told to us by a local ferryman and I didn't take time to visit the local library.

Outer Banks

2007-05-16T08:10:00.000-07:00

This past weekend we spent riding the outer banks. We were worried about the weahter in the days leading up to our arrival due to "Tropical Storm Andrea" but that Andrea fizzled somewhere south near Florida before it ever hit land. However, we did have couple days of on and off rain. We didn't have it too bad, as it seemed we were always able to skirt the storm. The clouds were amazing.

As we headed toward Cedar Island to get the ferry out to the Outer Banks, we passed beautiful coastal wetlands.

We took the Ferry to Ocracoke Island, which is the furthest south.

We decided to stay on Ocracoke for the night and got a campsite on the beach. We drank some beer and went swimming. Click here to watch Andrea Vs. the Atlantic.

We rode up to Nag's Head on Saturday and got to the Virigia border by Sunday evening. On the whole, I thought the Outer Banks were nice, but not as amazing as I had hoped. We recieved a lot of build up about how amazing the Outer Banks are from people all across the country. Whenever high expectations are involved, it's always easy to fall short. While it was beautiful hanging out on the beach, cycling the islands is actually sort of boring. You can't see the ocean because of the high berms which protect the road, so its mostly riding along between sand dunes and grass, which is nice, but not after 60 miles of it.

My complaint of the beach, beside it being totally littered with styrofoam debris from some shipping accident, is people are allowed to drive on the beach. Its hard to commune with nature, when you have SUVs and Trucks whizzing by you. Despite these criticisms, it really is quite pretty and we did have a good time. Here are some pics only documenting the good stuff.

a cute sand crab.

the only small stretch of road where you could see the ocean.

a great shot of my shoulder

Here, I stood up off the saddle, and raised my arm as high in the air as I could to see if I could get a shot of the ocean. I won!

This is the bridge connecting Hateras Island with Nags Head. You can see the weather is looking ify. That night we got railed with another 6 hour long coastal thunder storm. I heard a thunder crack which literally went on for 2 minutes straight. It was crazy. Again, all our stuff was wet or moist. Luckily we were headed into Richmond the next day to stay with our good friend Marcus, where we were able to dry everything out again.

Its our 1 year anniversary today!!!

2007-05-14T09:29:00.000-07:00

One year ago today, May 14, Ira and I checked out of our apartment at 2658 W. Cortez and began riding around the country. It was a rainy day as we rode to the Indiana Dunes State park for our first night on the road.

Here we are 1 year later, 7,300 miles later in Richmond Virginia on our way up the east coast.

For a look at our routes, click the links above in the header of our blog. Wow, what a year. We've struggled through 100 degree heat waves as well as freezing cold nights with 2 inches of snow! We've battled long droughts and torrential coastal rain storms. We've ridden though mountains, deserts, plains and hilly farmland. We've been in rural country scattered with small towns, in the uninhabbited stark forested wilderness with more moose then people as well as the biggest cities in the country. Thank you so much for keeping up with us through it all. We still have a couple months left before we hit our end goal of Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia, so stay tuned!

SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY

2007-05-14T09:28:00.000-07:00

This would have been a bigger deal in fifth grade, but I finally have a picture with the most infamous moster truck of all time. The Grave Digger's Dungeon is located forty miles south of the Virginia state line on Highway 158. We were not the only ones there for a photo-op.

The joys of camping.

2007-05-10T12:08:00.000-07:00

I'm filthy, damp, and sore... oh, but the glory.

This is actually a pretty campsite though, isn't it? Andrea cooked up some chicken and cornbread and we exhaustedly climbed into bed. There was palpable humidity in the air, turning my waterproof paniers slick with condensation. In the trees nearby, a bird that sounded like a person screaming kept wrenching me awake all night. Also, Andrea didn't get any sleep because I was snoring. I think I'm going to buy a one person tent and camp at least fifty yards away so she'll stop elbowing me. Blissfully, I cannot hear myself snore. I wake up and say "What? I wasn't snoring! Stop hitting me!" and then apparently fall back asleep, sawing logs. Poor girl.

We found a roof just in time.

2007-05-08T16:18:00.000-07:00

I'm posting from a carport outside of a church, where we've taken shelter from the rain. It sounds like the storm is supposed to miss us and end up somewhere in Florida. Still looks pretty scary though. I guess it hasn't formed yet so it's not officially called “Andrea”, but I'm sure we'll be joking about this for years to come.

I should also mention that I'm amazed to have free wifi out here. I hope this is a trend.

A strong low pressure system has formed off the East Coast

2007-05-08T06:01:00.001-07:00

Our friend Pat just forwarded this to me. Doesn't look like a big deal yet, but we'll see rain for sure.

I thought this was appropriate:

“I'm not sure whether NHC would name the storm as a subtropical storm (because the storm is still cold core at the upper levels) or as a tropical storm, but if it does get named, it will be christened Andrea.”

Out of the green, into the blue.

2007-05-07T21:05:00.000-07:00

RDU Airport, Raleigh, NC. Back in Eastern Time.

Andrea's got the NC map folded out on the floor, and we'll definitly be surounded by water by the middle of the week. Talk to your friends on the East Coast and find out if they want us to visit.

I took time tonight to replace our old tires with some new tires.

What's more important: getting married or karaoke?

2007-05-07T10:31:00.000-07:00

Sorry guys, I've been so busy over the past couple of weeks with my sister's wedding, I haven't had time to update this. It was a beautiful wedding. My sister looked gorgeous and everything went without a hitch (or anything too serious). I was the maid of honor so I got to get all dressed up too!

Emily and Jason had a full open bar, so needless to say there was much drinking and dancing! I'm cuttin a rug with Al, the best man.

We had a lot of camera malfunctions I get depressed even thinking about so unfortunatly we don't have that many pictures of the wedding or reception. We'll have to wait to get pics from Emily's photographer. We however got many pics of the afterparty at the karaoke bar next store which we all know to be the most imporant part of the night anyway.

Here I am freaking out the DJ as I sing Immigrant Song.

Ira and Emily sing the Darkness, "I believe in a thing called love"

Jason sings "White Wedding" to Emily.

Emily and I sing "Winds of Change" as everyone rocks out to us.

Then its BAR CLOSED GO HOME. Will Emily make it back to the honeymoon suite?

Not without some help from the groom.

So without further ado, we introduce you to the new Mr and Mrs Emily Newberry.

Frustrated Geek Post

2007-05-05T16:33:00.000-07:00

Before writing this post I was working on another that told all about our last two weeks in Chicago, which has been a whirlwind of action. Unfortunatly Blogger ate it- or rather the way my browser handles cookies allowed all of my hard work to burn up on re-entry to the Blogosphere. You could say it detonated like an IED along the road to Blogistan, or was chewed into a bloody pulp by a Blogosaurus Rex. Either way, no amount of clever metaphor is going to bring it back, and my angst levels are way up in the red.

To sooth my nerves, I'm going to tell you all about the handy new internet device I just bought that's hopefully going to turn us into more prolific bloggers.

Actually, because I'm thoroughly exhausted, I'm just going to let you read about it.

Behold: The Nokia N800.

The Midwest update

2007-04-23T16:37:00.000-07:00

Just a few notes to bring you up to speed:

Andrea's sister is getting married this weekend in Michigan, so we flew back for the wedding. The bikes are hanging out in Raleigh, NC untill we get back.

We had a great time in Carrboro and Chapel Hill. Our new friends Sarah and Lincoln hosted us and gave us a place to dry out all of our sopping wet gear. I had a chance to lay everything on the floor and take inventory. Some heavy tools went home, and my leaky sleeping mat is being warrenteed. Andrea spent a lot of time with their cute dog Annie.

The wedding is this weekend so check here for some pictures of us dressed to the nines.

In the meantime I'll be soaking up the summer. See you next week.

Our horrible night and crappy morning

2007-04-15T16:23:00.000-07:00

Last night, we couldn't find anywhere to camp. We were outside of High Point North Carolina in a rural/wooded section of back roads. It was getting dark and looking stormy. We asked a man on a very large tractor/lawn mower if he knew of anywhere in the area to camp and he directed us down to the "new lake" which was just the damned up river. We got down there and found a spot on a rough road going back into the woods. It started to rain just as we arrived, so we quickly rushed to set up the tent and cover the bikes. It had been a hard riding day. I strained my left knee riding in the mountains and it's been pretty hard riding on it for the past couple of days so I was short of temper. We didn't have time to set up the tent before jumping int, so stuff was all over. Ira was wet and we were both just frustrated with everything. We finally got stuff things situated, cooked on our stomaches, elbows and knees everywhere. With dinner ate, we had nothing else to do but off to bed. The rain was on and off until about 1 am when it started to pour buckets for 6 hours straight. My god it rains down here. Although we were on high ground, the earth was mushy and our tent was sinking in the ground due to the weight of us laying in it Somewhere in the middle of the night, we realized the whole floor of our tent was wet, with standing water in places. My shoes and rain coat where both soaked through. I only got three hours of sleep. I laid there all night allowing everything negative in my life to expand to 10 times their importance. I kept thinking about all bad things I've done to others, things others have done to me. I imagined all the people who didn't like me or currently hold grudges against me being realy happy at how absolutely miserable I was. Well, in the morning it got worse. I put on all my wet clothes, wet socks and wet shoes and got up to face the day. As we were getting on the road, I realized my front tire was flat.

We stood in the rain as we tried to repair it. We realized we had no new tubes, only four old ones we couldn't patch, (why don't we throw them away you ask...i don't know) Finally Ira was able to patch one and put my tire back on. We were both wet through, with wet rain gear on. I had to ride 7 1/2 hours today with wet feet. The rest of my can be wet but as long as my feet are dry, I'm ok. Today wasn't ok. I am so glad it is over. We're in Chapel Hill in a nice dry warm apartment and I am totally happy again.

Cherokee Chotchke

2007-04-15T15:39:00.000-07:00

While we were staying in the motel over Easter weekend due to the cold, we spent our time in Cherokee shopping at all of the bargain souvenier shops. They all wanted to let us know just how far they could take the discounts. This is the kind of shoping I like to do, because everything is cheap, ridiculous and completely unnecessary.

The irredescent lines shimmer as they spiral around the figures of Jesus and fellow apostles and below an idylic waterfall scene with zebras. Only $16.99

Who doesn't want a wooden keepsake box with hotrod, chopper or beautiful mysterious native moon women images? only $7.99

I bought these amazing bear earings for only $1.00. I win!

They've got everything; hats, giant underpants. What more could you want?

The tension down here between the wolf population and african americans is realy hard to deal with. Only 15.99!

Blue Ridge Parkway

2007-04-14T08:35:00.000-07:00

We rode the Blue Ridge parkway out of Asheville. It was beautiful.

2007-04-11T16:20:00.000-07:00

Here's some long-overdue backtracking. First: Ryan Wilson.

Ryan put the fun in Northern Georgia, by proxy.

He's one of our newer friends in Chicago and he really came through with the connections. We don't know most of our hosts before we arrive in their city; friend-of-a-friend is the standard degree of seperation. Ryan knows outstanding people in both Atlanta and Athens, and now we do too.

We stayed with Sayrah and her roomates in Athens, and she and Lauren showed us around town. Above, lunch @ Big City Bakery.

We had so much fun.

We visited Ryan's parents' place the next day. It reminded me of growing up in Northern Wisconsin- paradise.

Second order of business: Tallulah Falls.

We rolled into town and were greeted by a pair of brothers in the process of opening a resturant.

We asked for a place to camp and they fed us some gourmet digs, on the house. Check out the Tallulah Gorge Grill if you're in town.

Great Smokey Mountain National Experience

2007-04-10T10:03:00.000-07:00

Well, we're in Appalacia. Being in the mountains again is better then I thought it would be. I've been feeling much stronger as a cyclist and the steep climbs aren't giving me too much trouble. I am not sure if any of you might remember me writting about climbing the mountain passes in the west. I found them to be very challenging. It seems to be so much a mental thing. I now know I can take the hills, that alhtough it may be hard, I can do it. With this knowledge comes the self confidence to get through them in a steady and dignified way. No more hissy fits on the side of the road, which is nice for both myself and Ira.

I was shocked by how easy I could climg the hills.

We got into the Smokey Mountain National Park last Thursday right as the temperatures were starting to drop. We hiked 8 miles on Friday along a babbling creek and enjoyed the wildflowers along the way.

It was starting to get pretty cold and each day we tried to stay active to keep warm but the temps kept droping. On Saturday, we decided to ride up to Newfound Gap (they call passes gaps out here) to the Tennessee and North Carolina Border where you can pick up the Appalacian Trail. We rode the 15 mile climb (rises about 3000 ft.) up to the gap in good time and good spirits. We are becoming such good mountain climbers!

Not only can I climb a mountain competently now, but I can take a picture of myself climbing it and be smiling, sort of.

Upon getting to the gap, we locked the bikes up and got ready to climb the Appalcian trail. I've always been interested in hiking the whole trail, being a "through" hiker", so I was exicited to hike part of the trail at least. 6 miles down, 2169 to go!

Saturday was about 50 degrees. We kept warm riding up to the Gap, but we realized we were gonna freeze our butts off coming down so I brought all my rain gear in an attmept to make myself as windproof as possible. It was a pretty amazing descent in that we were going approx. 45 mph and it was snowing. So here I come blasting down the road, with all my rain gear on, a bandana on my head covering my ears and a bandana over my face. I couldn't wear my sunglasses because they kept fogging up, so I had to be constantly blinking to keep the snow from piercing my eyes. When we ride down a pass, since we are going so fast, I get in the center of the lane to keep cars from cutting me off. By the time we got to the bottom of the hill, my adrenaline was pumping like mad. It was one of the most insane descents we had, just because of the weather conditions as well as the road being much steeper in areas then the roads out west.

Saturday night it started to get really cold. So we tucked into our tent as soon as dinner was over to get out of the wind chill and into our sleeping bags. Our bags are rated down to 20 degrees and it been about that the past couple of nights. I had been sleeping burrowed down in my bag with the cord around the opening pulled so tight it was only the size of my fist. Ira woke up around 3 and got up to go use the bathroom. He woke me up spouting explatives and I asked him what was going on, he told me there was a couple inches of snow on the ground.

The next morning, we were so cold, we decided to head into town and get a motel room (our third one for the whole trip). We found out it had gotten down to 14 degrees the night before. Man, we were cold!

So we hunkered down in the motel. We spent Easter laying in bed watch TV.

We said when we got to Austin, we had left the snow behind for the year, but I guess this was not to be so. Snow is really cold, but it can be very pretty.

Under the icy fist of Cherokee, NC

2007-04-09T07:50:00.000-07:00

Eighteen degrees at night? I thought we were in the South!? I've got a lot of awesome posting to do about Athens, GA, Ryan Wilson(our latest super hero), the Smokies, and how we've become super-fast riders, but I only have fourteen minutes left on this computer. Andrea took a billion great pictures in the park so look out for that too.

I hope you have warmer gloves on than I do!

Andrea sums it up

2007-04-02T22:01:00.000-07:00

Nicely. If you dig her posting here, read her myspace blog too.

Suprise: Atlanta.

2007-04-02T20:29:00.001-07:00

We never really plan our routes too far in advance. Up until we rode inland in Mississippi, we were still unsure if we were going to ride the coast or go appalacian. I was torn both ways, but Ira was the determining factor voting to hit the smokey national park. As Atlanta was on the way, we decided to stop by. I don't know what I thought Atlanta was going to be like, but I wasn't really that interested in the city. I was totally amazed being there. The city is beautiful. Greenery everywhere. The south is amazing right now, its all in bloom. The flowering trees are amazing. The roads we've been riding in Alabama are covered with curtains of blooming whisteria vines. The apple and dogwood trees are all exploding as well as the hydrangias.

Not only is the city beautiful but we were lucky enough to fall in with some really fun awesome kids here who knew the best spots to hang out and were in on all the fun parties. We spent the day riding around getting a feel for the texture of Atlanta. Besides all the neighborhoods of nice houses with beautiful gardens, we saw the industrial sections where the urban street art takes over.

As Ira said in his post, we went to the Faster Mustache party and it was Super Fun (it must be capitolized!). Jeremy put a post on the site telling everyone about our trip and a link to our blog. I felt like a rock star. I got free beer and I had a couple people come up to me and ask if I was the girl riding my bike around the country. I've never been randomly recognized in a strange city by unknown people before by my reputation alone so my ego was being stretched a bit. I danced my asspants off. It was great after roughing it on the road, camping off the side of the road dirty and tired, to be in an urban environment hanging out with the beautiful kids of atlanta dancing drinking and having fun.

We didn't bring our camera, so this pic came from a slideshow of the party from the faster mustache site.

We finally rolled into bed at 2:30 am. Our over inflated egos where totally deflated the next morning when we had to get up at 8 to get back on the road. Hung over and sleepy, we rode 70 miles to Athens. All in all, thank you Atlanta- you made everything fun!

Alabama

2007-04-02T17:37:00.000-07:00

Riding through Alabama was an intense experience. While I was surprised by the wild beauty of the woods and pastoral rolling hills of this beautiful land I felt heavy with the tension of race relations. I don't want to go too in depth of this yet I realize this is perhaps what people expect to hear about this state. The black and white relations down here have improved greatly over the last 40 years, but the time of peaceful coexistance hasn't come about with pleasure and smiles. The people seem to live down here in a state of social and conversational segregation of their own choosing. It is a strange and loaded experience to be at a small town gas station (perhaps the only functioning establishment besides the churches in town to meet and socialize) and see two white people and three black people all standing around talking amongst themselves yet completely ignoring the other group. The black people seemed on the whole slightly hesitant or uninterested in engaging us in conversation and conversed in a more formal way then they did when talking amongst themselves. The white people seemed to live in slight fear, and perhaps guilty disgust of the black community. We would occasionaly be given veiled hints and warnings to be careful in certain areas because of the "people who lived there" wink wink. The tension was felt by both of us and we both were releaved to cross the Georgia border where we knew we would be heading into a more urban and enlightened environment.

However, as I said above, Alabama is a beautiful state. Here are some quick pics to demonstrate, although they don't fully capture the open rolling beauty or the pure clean feel of the air as it slid past our skin.

Hotlanta

2007-04-02T15:03:00.000-07:00

Our first time in Atlanta overwhelmed expectations. The urban texture is diverse and interesting, from the old buildings to the young hip kids to the gritty side-streets and neighborhoods, and everyone took great care of us.

Atlanta has has gardens around every corner- it's the greenest big city i've ever seen. There are houses like this less than a block from dense, walkable neighborhoods. We stayed in Little Five Points area but got a chance to see a large part of the city by bike.

On Saturday we road bikes all over the city with Jeremy and Jessica. We had some good recommendations of things to check out and our hosts had the day off.

Faster Mustache is a non-competitive bike organization and we had a blast at their second birthday party at Lenny's. There was a manic tricycle race and we rocked out to Snowden. It made waking up early and riding to Athens into an adventure! I wish we could have spent more time dancing and partying but we had a schedule to keep.

As we sat out on our hosts' roof in the summery night air, having drinks and chatting with passers by, I felt glad to be back in an urban area and hanging out with people of our generation. Thinking back, the last week of Alabama back roads seemed like an epic journey full of trials, all leading up to this. I realized that I could spend much more time in Atlanta, but that I will never experience the city or the country in quite the juxtaposition that we have acheived on this trip.

Thanks Dan, Kim, Simon, Jeremy, Jessica, Owen, and everyone else who made our stay fun!

Our elevation is about 1000 feet- only 4000 more 'till the Smokies.

8 days on the road and i'm gonna take a shower tonight.

2007-03-30T19:16:00.000-07:00

We made it to Atlanta, thank god. We have been camping off the side of the road in Mississippi, Alabama and Georgia for the past 8 days. 8 days of 85+ degree weather. We've been wearing sunscreen which is very greasy and attracts dirt and dust making Ira and I feel like powedered doughnuts. Except instead of being white, sweet and tasty, we were dark, stinky and crabby. Once we got to Dan's house, our host in Atlanta, we immediatly bee lined it for the bathroom. I cannot tell you how amazing it feels to be clean. You can never really experience this state of cleanliness until you have experienced and wallowed in our state of disgusting dirtiness for days.

before:

My hair is so tangled, I had to pull it apart to get it unclumped from my bun.

after:

I not only feel human again, I feel feminine. Ahh, it is such a releif to be able to walk within 6 ft of another human being again and not be horrible embarssed of my stench.

I ran out of clean clothes and had worn everything for mutliple days dirty, I had to resort to doing my laundry in a McDonalds bathroom sink. If anyone had seen me, the probably would have looked at me with disgust as though I was a homeless freak, but I don't care. I had clean underwear and socks. Clean clothes can only go so far, when you skin is still caked with dirty grim and dead skin. Feeling the warm water of the shower hit my skin was like heaven and seeing the dirty water filter down the drain was one of the most gratifying experinces of this whole trip.

Red dirt and pine trees.

2007-03-26T13:20:00.000-07:00

It's hot and we're both sweaty blobs of gross! If I was a sedimentary rock my layers would be red dust, bugs, and sunscreen.

Alabama is beautiful- maybe you already knew that, but maybe not because we haven't seen a lot of tourists here. We've been riding wooded, rolling hills with pretty little southern towns every ten miles. There's obvious poverty all around, but it could be what makes people so willing to help us out.

I've seen road signs with bullet holes all over the country, but down here it's hard to find one without them. It's also hard to find good produce! Next watermelon I see is getting eaten.

We've been riding at around 200 feet above sea level, dipping to 80 now and then. I'm going to try and keep track as we make are way toward the Smoky Mountains.

1000 miles

2007-03-24T10:41:00.000-07:00

we've got 1000 miles for this leg. we're up to a total of ~5700 miles for the whole trip.

em-eye-es-es-eye-es-es-eye-pee-pee-eye

2007-03-24T10:06:00.000-07:00

First Southern state line crossing with a sign!

This morning we crossed a big concrete bridge through cypress swamps. Every spooky creature you can imagine lives back there, and people around here hunt them all.

This picture was taken while Wesley, a world traveler and diver that we stayed with two nights ago, was telling us about hunting fish in the Gulf. We met him at a gas station and asked about camping in the area, so he invited us to stay at his place and cooked Red Snapper and some other deep-sea fish for dinner.

Andrea took Wesley's picture before we left- he's such a cool guy to hang out with and swap stories. We were completely tired when we showed up the night before and he let us shower, and after a great dinner, sleep in his spare room. He was full of good regional jokes, and had the kind of personality that made us feel like we'd known him for years.

As you know, this tour is a work in progress.

2007-03-21T14:51:00.000-07:00

Up until now the goal was to follow the Gulf Coast and then cut straight across to the East Coast, meeting the Atlantic somewhere near Georgia or South Carolina. I'm feeling bummed out by the endless flat terrain, resort homes, refineries, and hurricane wreckage, and Andrea is pretty much on-board. This is ok because we chart our route day-to-day and can do anything we want.

Smoky Mountains National Park looks like a good place to check out, so we're aiming the bikes in that direction. That means we'll see rural parts of Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia; probably visit Atlanta, and check out Knoxville and Asheville. I'll also be able to bring the bear rope back into action. After that we'll continue east and pick up the planned costal route.

That's the plan for now, subject to change at any time. Let us know if you live along the route and would like a visit. We're always looking for a shower and cool people to meet.

Higher ground

2007-03-21T14:18:00.000-07:00

Apart from all of the devistation in New Orleans, the more touristy areas of New Orleans escaped without too much damage from Katrina. The French Quarter and the Garden District we are told are pretty similar to how they were before. Here are some pics of some amazing and beautiful homes in different neighborhoods which were luckily spared.

Katrina Grafitti

2007-03-21T13:51:00.000-07:00

Riding through the neighborhoods which heavily affected by Katrina, I noticed all the houses had similar spray painted marks on them. Asking around I found out they were markes left by rescuers to notate which houses had been searched. The mark is an x and in each of the four quadrants represent different information. In the top quadrant is listed the date the house was searched. In the left quadrant is listed how many people were rescued from the location. The other quadrants seem to vary, but generally listed is the agency which seached the location, number of people rescued on the left and number of bodies found in the bottom. Most houses list a zero for bodis found. Its so eerie to see that listed.

We past a couple of houses where they list how many dogs were found dead or shot on the property as well.

Depending on what neighborhood you are in, the water levels varried to how high it got. In one of the worst neighborhoods, Lakeview, you could still see the waterlevel marks left by layers of scum on the houses. The city stayed flooded for 3-6 weeks so the water definitly had time to leave its mark.

Here you can see the water level reached to the top of the windows and doors.

new orleans lawn furniture

2007-03-19T21:12:00.000-07:00

"Noah's arc...no politicians"

where did you sleep last night?

2007-03-19T16:40:00.000-07:00

Well more updates on our sleeping locations. I don't know if people are interested, but i've keept up pretty well with documenting every night so I figured I would keep listing them.

Miss Lou's Bed and Breakfast in Kaplan, LA

We camped next to the locks on the intercoastal shipping canal near Calumet, LA. We were told to ask permission of the "Locksmith" to camp there. He said it was fine, but to watch out because it was gonna get real col'. When we told him we were from Chicago, he waved us off with a flick of his hands and told us to have a good time.

We stayed with Perry and Leb along with their two dogs Dixie and Tinker in Houma. We had a great time hanging out with these guys. They have an awesome house they built from salvaged 100 year old cypress wood. We set up temporary camp on the floor of the office.

Last night and tonight we are staying with Bill and Erin in New Orleans. They have an amazing 102 year old house which they are in the process of renevating. Each bedroom has a coal fireplace as well as the bathroom!

Plantations

2007-03-17T16:58:00.000-07:00

After going further inland, we are beginning to see some of Louisiana's older architecture which has luckily been left alone from the storms.

The swamp and Ira, patron saint of all turtles

2007-03-17T16:44:00.000-07:00

We've been riding through the wetlands for the past couple of days and have seen a range of amazing wildlife. We've seen gators, snakes, turtles, and tons of water birds.

We've also been intruduced to Nutria, which look like ROUS (rodents of unsual size). They look like rats, but are bigger than a household cat.

I have also come to find out a new fact about Ira. He is the shepherd of turtles. The roads are littered with turtle roadkill, which looks very different then regular roadkill. Regular roadkill looks like a pile of flesh, soft blobs on the streetside. Turtle roadkill is very angular because of the broken shell, while pink guts spilling in all directions. This bothers Ira very much. He makes us stop about 4 or 5 times a day to taxi a mid-road turtle across to safty.

Here Ira is trying to save a snapping turtle which was responding by trying to snap off his fingers. He is using the bottle to try and get it to pull its head in. It didn't want anything to do with this shepherd. He had to leave this one on the road.

There is the old Chinese saying that if you save someone's life, their life becomes your responsibility. Ira is currently responsible for about 20 little turtle lives, and the numbers are growing everyday.

hurricanes, gators, fema and fun

2007-03-17T14:05:00.000-07:00

So, when you heard from us last, we were feeling slightly down and out. We had been wet for multiple days straight and the areas we were going through were slightly depressing. Then we came about the Grand Chanier library. The women there gave us cookies, punch and cheer. When we were getting ready to leave they told us they had called their friend "Miss Frankie". She had an extra FEMA trailor she was willing to lend us for the night. Everything got brighter from there out. We rolled over to Miss Frankie's. She got us set up in the extra trailer and invited us over to visit when we felt comfortable.

Ira and I washed up and went over avisitin. Frankie and her husband Guy immediatly offered us some beer and snacks as we sat down to discuss the pertinent issues; our bike trip and hurricane Rita. Cameron Parish, which is the largest and most sparsly populated parish in Louisana,was totally devistated by hurricane Rita. They complained it didn't get as much press as Catriana, because it affected less people. However, almost everyone in the parish lost almost everything. Total devistation could be seen everywhere. There are barely any buildings left standing. Everyone is living in trailers brought in after the storm. They felt because they recieved less press coverage, they were virtually ignored when it came to federal aid. Beside that no one was recieving any insurance money. It's a real mess down here. There is no overall hurricane insurance, you need flood insurance and wind insurance. No one is recieving any money because when people file a claim with the flood insurance, they're told it isn't covered because it's actually damage caused by the winds. When they try to file for Wind damage, they are told it's water damage. Here the real enemy seems to be the greedy insurance companies. Left to fend for themselves, the people who have money to repair their houses are still working on them, two years later. While most are left trying to finagle more time with Fema to keep the trailers. Frankie joked they were true Cajuns, they owned two boats and no houses.

"Before the storm" is a constant phrase you hear down here. They speak of before in whistful terms. Now they are all force into a reality of rebuilding what little the have left and replacing what was lost to recreate the lives they once had. Everyone down here seems pretty stoic about the whole stituation though. They understand if you live down here, the storms come with the package. The true resentment comes into play when they talk about the betrayal they feel from the insurance companies which was to be their security blanket. Guy spoke of a WWII veteran he was friends with who broke down in tears in a conversation about his insurance situation. He lost his house as well as his business and all his equipment during the storm. When he filed his insurances claims he was turned down on all of them. He said, he would be ok with it, if he could be refunded every premium he had been religously paying over the past 40 years.

While we chatted, Frankie was busy cookin up some fresh shrimp they had just caught in the river behind their house. They spoke of all the amazing seafood which is just within reach of their house, shrimp, crawdads, crabs etc. Guy goes offshore fishing where he catches red snapper and other large fish i can't remember the names of. They bragged before the storm they had multiple chest freezers full of seafood. They have tons of aligators in the river across the street. Frankie was telling us of the pet gator she had when she was a kid. Her dad would go out with the scraps of shrip and crab, "slappin the mud" to get Timmy's attention. They finally had to let him go when he got over 5 ft long, because he was beginning to get a little dangerous.

The next morning, Frankie sent us off not only well rested, but with bags overflowing with foodstuffs she had been given after the storm. We were treated wtih true southern hospitality and generosity.

I feel very well rested and dry after getting rained on in the tent for the past three nights.

Here is Ira and Miss Frankie.

Frankie even called up her mama "Miss Lou" who owned Chateau Vermillian, a bed and breakfast 60 miles up the road and arranged for us to stay the night with her. "I'll just tell her y'all are too poor to pay any money". Miss Lou was as gracious and fun as her daughter. We had fun staying up chatting. She gave us doses of her "medicine", which I was quite happy to partake of since scotch is one of my very favorite drinks.

Miss Lou and myself.

Situations like these are what makes this trip so worth while. I love meeting new people, and meeting local people is the best way to have an authentic experience.

being on the beach makes you contemplate your existance

2007-03-14T15:37:00.000-07:00

what does it all mean?

beach resort for paranoid militia extremists

2007-03-14T15:34:00.000-07:00

its bulletproof and if it floods, we believe it will float.

too many blogs.

2007-03-14T15:30:00.000-07:00

I recently joined myspace, which i avoided for a long time. I finally broke down and now I'm addicted which happens to everyone i guess. Anyhow, i started a myspace blog and I've been writting posts for each. Ira was commenting on the fact I've been putting more of the funny pics on that one, and being too serious on this one. I was trying to do different things with each, but it is true. I want this site to be honest and fun as well. So for the very few of you who may read my other blog, I appologize if you see some repitions.

Louisiana is wet

2007-03-14T14:54:00.000-07:00

So many waterfowl everywhere. We've been seeing tons of cranes, pelicans, cormorants, birds with curved beaks I don't know what they're called. Its really great. Our friend Marian, who is from Texas, and her father are really into birding. This makes sense, seeing all the different species to be found down here.

We're in Louisiana now. The weather here is very fickel. We camped on the beach off the side of the road.

it rained on us all night, and then cleared up this morning. Then by midafternoon it was pouring again. Ira and I parked it under an overhang of an abandonded gas station (Damaged by hurricane Rita) to wait out the downpour. We waited over an hour and realized we should get back on the road, rain or no rain.

We've been seeing a lot of hurricane damage along the way. The first town we passed through was Holly Beach. It was totally gone. It is now made up of a few trailers and mobile homes.

We've ended up at a Library in Grand Chenier during their St. Patties party. They fed us green cookies and punch. So the day is ending well.

Down and out on the Gulf.

2007-03-14T14:38:00.000-07:00

"RITA SUCKS- NO, SHE BLEW. HOPE YOUR[sic] INSURED!"

This was spraypainted on a huge rusty oil tank resting on it's side between Highway 82 and the Gulf Shore beach. The road leading into Cameron Parish, LA is barely two lanes and there's not a foot of it not bordered by trash from Hurricane Rita. Complete towns were reduced to foundations in 2005 and are still mostly trashed, with people living in Campers and trailers on leveled lots. It's obvious most of this Parish wasn't insured because ninety percent has not been rebuilt. It's hard not to get emotional riding though miles of peoples lives strewn though water-filled ditches. Everything is out there, from lamps to lawnmowers to the contents of china cabinets.

Rain down here feels like someone turned on a gigantic shower head and then left for a month vacation. It blasts down at full intensity for hours on end, and we just spent the day riding in it.

This isn't anything like the last part of the ride. The scenery alternates between grim and boring and the weather sucks. Like Texas, Louisianans have been kind and welcoming to us, but unlike the West, this isn't a place people go on vacation. Admittedly, the isolated beaches are beautiful. Highway 82 feels more like the frontier than anything out West, probably a combination of the hurricane damage and most of the residents being roughnecks who work the offshore oilrigs. Andrea quickly noticed that she was the only woman on the Cameron Ferry and also in the packed Hurricane Cafe in town, other than the women behind the counter. I don't want to sound ungrateful, Louisiana, but if things don't change, I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible.

We're headed into coastal Louisiana...

2007-03-13T07:38:00.000-07:00

We don't expect to see many towns in the next few days, so wish us luck!

footprints on the boardwalk

2007-03-12T20:32:00.001-07:00

Talkin' roadkill...

2007-03-12T17:29:00.000-07:00

Is the Texas Gulf really boring enough that I'm posting about roadkill? I've actually always been fascinated, but the fact it's flat and and most of the scenery is repetitive has focused more attention on the roadside abattoir. Each region has it's own flavor: we saw young moose in the Idaho panhandle, and there were rattlesnakes all over Wyoming and South Dakota. I don't take pictures, but please use your imagination.

Texas highlights:

Armadillo - I've never seen one in the wild, but there was a fresh one on the yellow line the other day. Reminds me of a Jim Hightower book.

Feral Hogs - Two so far, both late-on in decomposition. One a boar with tusks.

Rattle Snakes - I thought it was a palm branch this morning because it was laying in a puddle by the beach. Nearly four feet long.

Deer - Not that exciting unless you're from the city, but these are everywhere. I found a cool two-point antler by the roadside and it's strapped to my rack.

Birds - Dead vultures are meta roadkill. I wonder if they eat each other? Lots of Terns by the Gulf, and no pelicans so far which is nice because they are my new favorite bird.

Skunks - A live one was poking around our campsite a few nights ago, but many others are not as lucky.

Turtles - I helped a big box turtle cross the road. It seems wrong when these guys get smooshed by some teenager in a truck just off the assembly line because they can live to be over a hundred years old and deserve respect.

sleepin on the beach is very messy

2007-03-12T16:16:00.000-07:00

Well, we've been camping on the beach a lot lately. The sand here on the gulf is insideous. it gets everywhere! it is so fine, it is hard to wipe off. here are a couple more nights on the road.

Padre Island

Lighthouse beach campground, Port Lavaca, TX.

Johnny and Angie let us camp on their property on Payton Creek. We were here on sat. night. the locals like to haul ass down this waterway in their boats for sat. night fun. it looked fun, everyone waved at us, but no one offered us a ride. oh well.

sunset on payton creek, Wadsworth, TX

we spent last night here, oh my god. we got attacked with huge rain pellets for 7 hours straight. i have never experienced a downpour like this before, and in a tent. everything was wet. we were trying to laugh about it, but it was one of those premptive laughts. the kind you know you'll feel later, but deffinitly not in the moment.

i didn't get a shot of the tent because it was dark when we got it up and it was all we could do taking it down to keep from wanting to just head to the nearest airport.

We spent last night with Helen and Phillip down here in Galveston. It was so nice to be in a house, to do laundry and be dry. This bed was super comfortable, like sleeping on clouds. It was just what I needed!

sunset on the gulf and a bird

2007-03-08T08:36:00.001-08:00

here are some pics i like.

were we've been staying

2007-03-08T08:29:00.000-08:00

here are some pics of our lodgings so far.

second night, at will's house. Austin, TX

day three, at haleh's house. Austin, TX

Day 4 and 5, Emily's parents Jimmy and Linda's house. Wimberley TX

Day six: city park in Stockdale, TX

Day seven: city park in Beeville, TX

Day eight: on causeway, Arnasas Pass, TX (on the Gulf)

So far no money has been spent on lodging. people in texas are realy nice!

This feels the way I remember, although flatter.

2007-03-07T14:38:00.000-08:00

We've been riding into the wind for the last three days straight. My face is burned, my legs feel like water, and I'm happy to have finally reached the Gulf of Mexico.

Texans have overwhelming state pride, there must be a law here that you can't display a U.S. flag without a Texas flag. I don't mind at all because these are the friendliest people we've met. This is the first time that every town has let us camp in their park, and people go out of their way to help out. All of the signs say "State Law" on the bottom, as if no one gave two shits about the Federal ones.

I can't stop salivating at the smell of Pecan smoke, thanks to the mind-blowing barbeque served up by our friend Emily's family. Top-notch folks in every way. I've been dreaming up ways of convincing them to adopt me ever since we left their place in Wimberly. We stayed two nights and Emily drove us to San Antonio to see the Alamo. We left with our spiritual batteries charged, ready to face anything the road could throw at us.

Speaking of which: this wind. Please stop blowing, you are making me want to die. The sunburn is ok, it just makes me look stupid, which I can handle. Once again, note to the wind: Stop.

"What it do?"

2007-03-03T21:04:00.000-08:00

Austin has great rap radio. I'm stoked about being in the durrty south- everything sounds like a Swisha House mixtape. One of our new friends in Austin even told us that she just ordered a grill.

The public radio station, KUT, is high quality as well. I wish we had more time to soak up the culture, but it feels neccesary to be back on the bikes and putting miles behind us.

2007-03-02T08:50:00.000-08:00

so we put the bikes together yesturday. it is strange, i thought it would be wierd to get back on them. get used to riding loaded bikes (which are really wobbly at first until you get used to it) but ira and i were both commenting it felt totally normal.

sorry about the reflectors, they make it really hard to take pictures.

So Ira and I are both really anxious to get on the road but we feel like we should hang out here for a couple of days to check out the city. Last night we went over to South Congress where they were having "first thursday" which they have every month. Its like a sidewalk arts and crafts thing with street music and food. We got these amazing hickory smoked turkey legs for $1 a piece, and they were huge!! I felt very primal knawing off the bone. I think Ira just felt very masculine.

We checked out the thrift, antique and chotchke places up and down the strip and ira had to drag me out of a couple because i was bound and determined on spending money i shouldn't on a set of 8 square dancing high ball glasses. (i collect glasses ok, its my vice). Then he was dragging me out of the boot shop. It was very clear I couldn't get a pair tho at $350 and up.

more later.

The stars at night...

2007-02-28T18:40:00.000-08:00

Ok, y'all, we made it. We got into Austin TX today at 5:05 p.m.

Our day started at 8:00 a.m. We had all our baggage ready.

I ordered the minivan cab for 10 a.m. to get us to midway airport. Me, being a neurotic worry wart, I scheduled it for 4 hours before our flight was to leave to make up for any problems we might encounter of not fitting our stuff in. It all fit, luckily.

It only took us 30 minutes to get to the airport, so we were there 3 1/2 hours early. Well, better to be early then late.

Ira is feelin the stress as we wait to check in our mountain of baggage. I went from a key chain with tons of keys, my parents house, my sister's house, my aunts house, andy's house (all the places I've been staying) and keys to my parents car to only one key: my bike lock. Less keys, less responsibilities.

I kept saying, if we can just get on the plane, I'll be fine. I'm feeling pretty good here.

We got to Austin, and Walt, someone we hooked up with off the warm showers list, came and picked us up with his truck. We then went out to dinner at the Third Base which is a great new bar Walt's son Michael opened just three weeks ago. It was great food and packed. We then came back to his house where we have been supplied with great digs for the night.

So as you can see, we're back on the road and roughin it.

The stars at night are big and bright (at least the capitol building deffinitly is) deep in the heart of Texas.

jumping off the cliff, a second time

2007-02-27T11:00:00.000-08:00

Andrea checking in again. Well, sorry all for being so incommunicado for the past three months. I left off here, telling you all about how I was trying to reintegrate myself into a normal life again. I was living in Flint, staying with my parents working a temporary holiday job. I wish I could tell you everything went well while I was there, but that would not be entirely true. This past couple of months has brought on a lot of emotional turmoil and concepts for contemplation. To be brief, I have been struggling with a lot of issues of self identity.

I have come to realize I define myself largely by what I "do". I wasn't doing much while in Flint. Don't get me wrong, I really like Flint, I think it is an awesome town. I just wasn't in a position of doing much, only working part time. I started to get depressed and started doing even less then before. Living with your parents after a long time away from home is difficult. I truly wanted to be a good citizen but slowly started to fade into old patterns of lazing around the house and not helping out because I didn't absolutly have to. I realize, I need a structured life to keep me feeling positive. I need to move forward not dangle in some temporary thing. I value work, and I value supporting yourself. I wasn't really doing this while in Michigan and it took it's toll.

I knew embarking on this adventure, there would be hard times. I like being comfortable, I have always liked having my spot with all my stuff. I am not zen, I can't just give up everything and be content. (that's why everything is in storage.) I was concerned I wasn't going to like the transient life, yet was surprised at how well I felt I was coping with the first part of being on the road. It was when we stopped everything came into focus. Being around others who are so settled in their lives, and not really being settled in my own life was hard. I am a control freak therefore I like to have control over my environment, and this just hasn't been possible lately. I've been feeling lost and afraid. I also have been suffering from panic attacks that leave me paralyzed with fear of "are we doing the right thing?", "should I just quit all this and go back to a regular life...will that get rid of this fear?" The fear and panic I feel seem slightly irrational when looked at from the outside. My friends say, well, you know, you are going back on the road soon, so why are you getting stressed out about it. But what if it doesn't go away, I ask. Lately the fear has been all consuming, almost to the point of making me want to quit this trip. This trip which has been my dream for so long.

I'm no quitter though. I have to move forward. It is part of how I define myself. I have been feeling lost, and quite honestly I don't know if I can make it another six months on the road without having a breakdown. But I'm not quitting without trying. The problem with saying you want to have an experience that will change your life is, it does change your life. Things change, and you have to deal with that...the good and the bad. Its not like things change, the clouds open up, God comes out and says "my child, you have been strong and brave, you will lead a very successful life with no problems from here on out." No. Things have changed but I'm not sure how. All I know is, I feel differently and I need to redefine myself. This is uncomfortable, but so necessary. I've been working on allowing the panic to move through me, but not take over. I'm working on allowing myself to feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I'm trying to deal with the concept life is out of my control and this is ok. These issues have almost been harder if not as hard as climbing a mountain pass or sleeping in a cold damp sleeping bag during a horrific rainstorm or getting dehydrated and sunburnt from riding through 100 degree weather.

That's all part of the journey. I knew it was going to be hard, I guess I just didn't know what aspects were going to be hard and how they were going to affect me. Ira and I have been talking about this blog. People who have kept reading have commented on how it hasn't been so positive lately. But this is the true experience. Its so important to see the struggle, not just the physical but emotion and psychological struggle which is so integral to this. Hard times are necessary to appriciate the good ones. I know this all may sound trite, but you know some times you have too look in the mirror and say

I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darnit people like me.

anyhow, enough psycho babble. I just felt, I couldn't move on with this blog without telling you what I've been going through. So the whole picture could be seen and understood.

Thanks for all of you who have supported us, it means everything. Tomorrow we're off to Texas to do it again. Getting ready to jump, can't think about it. Just have to get a running start and go.

The touring bikes are in boxes...

2007-02-26T21:09:00.000-08:00

And I figured out why my derailleur was clicking.

Blizzard Party 2K7

2007-02-25T12:28:00.000-08:00

Chicago kids are crazy when it comes to extreme weather. Half-way through our going-away party last night I stepped out on the front porch and saw no less than twelve bikes locked to the front gate, all coated in ice, sleet, and snow. Some of our first guests rode fourteen miles before arriving. Andrea and I were floored by how many people braved the storm to give us a send-off.

Find yourself in the party pictures.

We're going to miss everyone so much over the upcoming months, and a part of me wants to just stay here in the comfort of all that is familiar.

Those of you who couldn't make the party, we'll be back before you know it. Stay in touch and we'll keep writing and taking pictures for you.

Late hours at the bike shop.

2007-02-24T14:25:00.000-08:00

I started fixing the bikes yesterday. They're covered with dirt from all over the West.

So far, Andrea's has new handlebars because she crashed on Vancouver Island. She's also getting a new chain, a fancy new old-stock Suntour freewheel, and all of her bearings repacked. Can you smell the fresh grease?

For added olfactory pleasure, Andrea's bike box came with dirty clothes from three months ago!

I'm going to need to fix my rear fender, which was smashed when the wheel can loose in Portland, and jury-rigged since then. There's also the business of my drive-train clicking, probably needing new parts. All of this needs to happen in the next three days, and I admit I'm panicking.

The best solution is obviously to party tonight and drink whiskey, which we will do.

I bought plane tickets yesterday.

2007-02-20T10:54:00.000-08:00

We're flying to Austin on February 28th. Hello warm weather! There's a lot of work to be done in the next week. I'll be tuning the bikes, putting my things back in storage, and tying up loose ends.