Life Spoke

Well, well. I finally made it to Wyoming as my uncle noted in the post below. I also surpassed the 1000 mile mark yesterday!!! Cracked a huge smile as I watched the odometer creep past 999.9 miles to 1000.0, everyone loves zeros when they're in your favor.

I didn't expect to write an update for some time but alas, another rest day fell in my lap.

I'm in Kemmerer, WY at about 7000 feet. The gradual climbing over the past few days has tired me noticably. I fell asleep last night with the expectation of an early start to venture further into Wyoming and up to higher elevations. When I awoke I was tired and feeling sluggish.

I'm staying in the basement of the Maranatha Christian Fellowship Church here and the Pastor, Lester Fatheree has graciously let me stay on another day and night. Kemmerer is a nice mountain town with a great museum and an actaul downtown, which is appealing.

The area is the 'Fish Fossil Capital of the World' and I perused the rock shops this morning. Always a rock hound and geology buff, I bought a fossilized fish found in the surrounding hills. At the Post Office, I picked up a lovely note from Tracey along with maps for WY and CO. My mom sent a heart-felt card of appreciation as well. Believe me, pieces of paper can have soul.

Chronologically:
Thursday, 9/21
I wrote to you from Shoshone, ID this day. After I left town I rode east across a desert similar to that of Central Oregon. The wind was at my back gusting up to 25 or 30 mph and I flew east at 20 mph past huge piles of sugar beets.

I turned south after pedalling 70 miles and struggled against the gusty breeze that had been my friend earlier in the day. Most of the time I was actaully leaning the bike to the right fighting to keep the front wheel straight. Before I left, a veteran cross country rider warned me to embrace the wind no matter if it was helping or hurting me...that preparation kept me from going mad as I toiled.

Arrived in Ruper, ID and the Police Department gave me permission to camp in the fairgrounds. What a great spot! Running water, an electrical outlet and a light under the livestock pavilion were a treat. I rode 89.25 miles this day averaging 14.5 mph. Slept soundly.

Friday 9/22:
No rain overnight! It had gotten pretty chilly though. Without my leg warmer my knees got cold and started to hurt quite a bit. After a while I put my pants on and rolled up the legs to block some wind. That alone was a comfort and my knees felt better almost immediately.

I took 'Old US 30' again. I recommend this road to anyone travelling through the area. It is a straight line east out of Rupert and is perfect for cycling. Open range out there, had to give my cowboy 'haa!' to the cattle blocking my path. Great pleasure in seeing them scurry out of my way as if expecting to see a rope swinging in the air above my head as I rode my steel bronco (years of reading Louis Lamour made me a cowboy at heart).

I crossed over the interstate again, I-86. Followed access roads parallel to the freeway for miles and miles until they ran out. Unwillingly, I had to ride about 8 miles of freeway in two separate segments. Deafening noise and exhaust. The big trucks did break up the headwind a bit.

My route continues to follow the Oregon/California Trail. This is a picture taken at Register Rocks State Park, east of American Falls. Check out the dates!

The afternoon was spent struggling into a light headwind. I stopped many times wondering if my body would disintegrate. My knees were concerning me and my thighs were toast. I pressed on. Two hotdogs and a big cup of sweet coffee in American Falls warmed me up (the air temp was about 55 and the windchill dropped it down to about 40).

I made Pocatello at 6:30 and called Charlotte Dadabay, my contact there. She's a senior at Idaho State University and her roomates are all young outdoor people; climbers, bikers, GPS nuts, etc. Brian, Kathleen and Wayne. We had pizza (actually I ate a whole pizza and they had most of a small pie) and they let me shower and do a load of laundry. Wayne even tuned my shifters for me because he's a bike mechanic and mt. bike racer. I had a great time hanging with everyone. Thanks guys! They showed me a little of the town on a Friday night and I got to bed at about 1am.

If you've never been, Pocatello is a pretty cool mountain town with local climbing, cycling and mountain biking. There are yurts in the surrounding hills you can use as basecamp for backcountry skiing. Jackson, WY is only two hours away and it's not far to other climbing destinations. The elevation is near 6000 feet and all the surrounding hills and mountains had snow on them.

This snow, which had my attention all day, was disconcerting to say the least. The low elevation made me very nervous because I knew I was headed up higher and expected to see lots more snow in Wyoming. Psychologically this was tough to consider but there was nothing to do but pedal.

Daily miles = 77.35 at 12.1 mph.

Saturday, 9/23:
I woke at 7:00 and went with Wayne to Scott's Ski and Sports, downtown where he works. I bought a new water bottle, leg warmers and arm warmers. I finally left Pocatello at 11:00 and headed south on US 30.

Lots of rolling hills at first and then I started up a long lazy climb. For some reason I was really tired. I stopped at the Log End Pottery Gallery in McCammon. I saw the gallery from the highway and was intrigued. The place is actually made from rounds of firewood by the artist's husband. I met this great guy, Ted Pulling and he told me all about the building and the pottery. Check it out online.

I rode another 8 miles to Lava Hot Springs and stopped. I asked if I could use the hot tubs. They were glad to have me. I felt a bit out of place though; all I had were my boxer shorts to bathe in and I was a solo male who had come wearing tights. A questionable character.

It isn't easy to strike up conversations with total strangers at first, it usaully takes me an hour to become social after the numbing effects of riding all day. I didn't bother trying to make friends but some people had overheard me speaking to the clerk and I gave out some fundraising cards. I soaked until I couldn't knead my knotted thighs anymore and showered off.

I left with a banging headache but decided to try to climb the 'big pass' everyone told me was immediately out of town. I got to the edge of town and saw an RV park. Without a second thought I pulled in, bought a campsite and gave up arguing with myself about only doing 40 miles that day. I was tired, obviously dehydrated and facing a 5 mile climb.

I fried up some chicken breasts with quinioa and ate a whole package of instant pudding. I passed out at 8:30.

Daily mileage = 40 miles, average speed = I didn't care.

Sunday, 9/24:
Cold night. I was one notch away from shivering when I awoke at 4:30. I got up at 7:30 after 11 hours of sleep and found the handlebars, computer, seat and panniers coated in dense frost. My toes started to go numb and my hands were cold before I had oatmeal made.

I wouldn't say I was about to panic but the fear I had of going into Wyoming was building. Seeing snow for a few days straight and the frost that morning were alarming. I kept telling myself that I am tough, I can take this and I can take whatever happens in the future. But that fear was a virus that eroded my happiness and resolve. Mental tricks from rock climbing helped me sidestep it but it simmered all morning.

Arm warmers, leg warmers, fleece pants, long sleeve shirt, fleece shirt, winter hat, gloves, pants, jacket. I started up the hill with almost all my clothes on. By the time I got to the top I had stripped off the fleece but it was chilly. I made it to Soda Springs and had a double bacon cheeseburger then went outside to call Tracey.

She mistook my gasping sobs for laughter as the tears rolled down my cheeks. When the words, 'I miss you so much,' quaked out of me she understood. 'This is so hard. I'm so scared, so lonely, so tired and cold.' She let me blurt it all out for a minute then calmy began to put me back together. She has a positive outlook on everything I'm doing. She believes in me more than I believe in myself sometimes. With objectivity in a rational tone she reasured me I can face whatever comes. She dug away at my fear and by time we got off the phone I felt much differently.

I banged out 30 more miles to Montpelier, ID in the warm afternoon sun.

While I sat in the park after cleaning up dinner a guy rode up on his mountain bike. Steve Hill offered to let me sleep in his yard and make his house my own for the night. He and his wife Sharon were really nice people, down to earth and friendly. He's a volunteer fireman, ambulance medic and has ridden to Ohio from San Francisco and again from Montpelier a few years later. He gave me a pair of earplugs to sleep with and I was out like a light for the night, no awakenings.

Daily mileage = 53 miles, 13.1 mph.

Monday, 9/25:
The frost was much less than the morning before and I was warm all night thanks to the comforter Steve let me use to supplement my sleeping bag. I was about to hit the road when I found a leak in my big water bladder. Steve drove me over to the hardware store and we got some 5-minute epoxy. We patched it up and I was ready to go.

Steve was a bit nostalgic about seeing me leave. He said he wished he was riding with me. In his tone I could hear that he was thinking of the other rides he had done. I also heard that this sort of adventure is a bug that gets into a person and lures them back over time. I understand how, but doing it solo would never be part of my future plans.

Anyway, south again on US 30. I crossed into Wyoming after climbing Boarder Pass. From there I stopped in Cokeville, WY and got a huge BLT with beans. I should note that the food I expected to sustain me during the day (two ClifBars dipped in peanut butter, a big bag of granola and Gatorade) is nowhere near enough. I am trying not to spend money on food but there is a noticable difference in my performance when I eat a proper lunch and eat the other stuff in between.

From Cokeville there is a long gradual climb up to Kemmerer. It's pronounced 'Kimmer,' they say they only stutter when they write it down. About 3 miles outside of town I watched the odometer click 1000.0. I certainly noticed the altitude and the fact that I was sucking wind all afternoon as I slowly edged up the hill. My legs were close to locking up as I coasted into town and that should have been a sign.

I called Pastor Fatheree and he gave me directions. Of course he lives at the top of the steepest hill I've ridden on this trip, but the reward was generous. He had a huge pot of homemade chicken dumpling soup waiting for me and I gulped down three big bowls, striving to maintain etiquette. After eating, we watched Monday Night Football on ESPN. At half-time he showed me the basement of the church that has become my temporary home. I showered, iced my knees, spoke to Tracey and my uncle Roger then fell asleep instantly at 10pm.

As I said, I woke up and felt tired. Bone tired. I sat staring at the floor for a half hour and wrote in my journal about the feeling. Getting my thoughts on paper helped me decide to stay here for the day and recover. I stretched for an hour before heading to the library to update you all.

I should mention that a very generous couple have donated a huge sum, bringing the total up past 50%. Their note mentioned that I had inspired them by my efforts. Lots of other people have donated as well and the new total is $12,765. That's 51% of my $25,000 goal.

I may be inspiring many of you out there, but it is pale compared the inspiration you are all giving me. Comments on this website have been more than I expected. The quantity is not surprising but the effect is astonishing.

When I'm riding alone in the middle of a bleak nowhere, tired and unsure, getting breezed by trucks - I think of the comments. When I get low, low down there is someone, at least one of you thinking about me. When the sun is warm, the breeze is pushing me and I'm a happy cycle pilot I know you are there as well. My smile grows and easy becomes effortless. Keep your comments coming!

I want to finish this journey. I want to stand on the beach in New Jersey. I want to raise $25,000 through connections made along the way. I would never even dream of stopping, no matter how bad it gets. What I want more than anything is to survive this clear to the end.

Love to you all,
Andrew

Hi, Roger Bascue here.
I'm just an uncle, but Andrew asked me to post an update for him.

Andrew has reached Kemmerer Wyoming today, September 25. On the way there he completed his first one thousand miles. It is a big milestone for him, and he is psyched for the achievement. He is tired, but has not had problems with his knees. The altitude is starting to have an effect on him.

He is in good spirits, and is feeling good, but does not have access to a computer to update this post himself. Over the next two days he will climb the remaining mountains to reach South Pass. He has been loosly following the trail forged years ago by pioneers heading West.

For those persons interested, he will be spending Tuesday night in Farson, WY before heading on to South Pass City, WY. He expects to arrive after the Post Office closes, so will have to wait until morning to pick up his next food package. From there to Muddy Gap and on to Fort Collins and Denver.

Here is where it gets interesting. Andrew will stop a day or so with friend Chris. If you want to send a note of encouragement to him there, the address is Andrew Bascue c/o Chris Schauffle 1632 Franklin St Unit 5, Denver, CO 80218. Remember that he can not carry extra weight with him, so packages are not encouraged. If your note will not arrive until after Tuesday, please wait for another address update. There will be time later when visiting his brother Matt near Chicago.

I'm in Shoshone, ID! Wet weather for three days now. I'm doing well though. Moving slowly across Idaho.

It's been slowly sinking in that this is going to be a LONG trip. There is nothing fast about riding a bicycle across the country. Now that I've realized that my spirits have lifted considerably.

I came upon the freeway (I-84) yesterday. First insterstate I've ridden next to so far on this trip. It was sobering to see and hear cars and trucks blazing down the highway at 65+. It helped put my own speed in perspective.

The interstate also opened my eyes to how incredible this journey really is. I'm riding on roads that would be ridiculous to travel on if you were driving from Oregon to New Jersey. You basically want to stay on the interstate to get from A to B in a car. Even for local trips, if given the option to take the big road or the small road and both take the same amount of time, a person often chooses the interstate.

Yesterday I travelled along 'Old Highway 30' that loops a few miles north of the interstate. The 'old' designation must have been tacked on when the road was realigned and made part of the interstate system. What a nice road, though. In 15 miles I saw six cars. It was relatively level and mostly straight but it wasn't the straight line that engineers so desire, so it was carved out of the insterstate system.

On Old Hwy 30 I came upon a herd of cattle being driven down the road by a cowboy on a four-wheeler. I moved over and they nervously passed. The new-age cowboy waved and smiled.

Lots of eagles out here. I'm sad to say that I pass close to a dozen beautiful big birds, dead on the side of the road every day. I pass lots of road kill, hundreds and hundreds so far, I almost ran over a porcupine in Oregon, but the big birds are really sad.

The live eagles have been riding the winds a hundred feet above the road. Yesterday I saw one dive into the sage brush and come back up with a big snake coiled in a hoop, hanging from it's talons. Amazing. I think the Aztec's reviered this as the sign on where to build Tenochtitlan, present-day Mexico City.

Lots of waves and a few honks over the past few days. One rancher was out in a field and yelled, "Gettin' yer excercise?" Me, "Yeah, all the way to New Jersey!" "New Jersey!?" Smile and wave, keep riding.

Chronologically:
Saturday, 9/16 -
Cairo Junction to Mary and Lester Scott's house, the site of my last update.

Sunday, 9/17 -
Had a great breakfast with Mary and Lester. Lester really wanted me to "abort this trip and go fishing for a week up on the Owyhee." Mary tells him he's too old to take the boat out by himself and I think he's itching for a fishing buddy before the weather gets too much colder.

53 miles to Marsing, ID. I pass the state line without too much excitement. I was really really tired this day. Lagging so much, just couldn't get my fire stoked up very hot. This was my eigth day in a row of riding and the effects were apparent. I was just plain fatigued, Mary had fed me a huge dinner and a big breakfast so available food energy wasn't the problem.

So I pulled into Snake River Mart in Marsing and met Jolyn Green and her.

I followed them to her parent's house outside of town on Hwy 78. What a nice place. Jack and Joann Thomspon had raised their kids in one of the houses down the hill and have since built and lived in two separate homes on the hill that used to be their farm. They sold the first and built the second a year or so ago. I don't know if they saved this home site for a special purpose or not, but it had an incredible view of the surrounding Snake River Valley, just off the crest of the hill.

I can't thank the Green's and the Thompson's enough for their hospitality. Between the noise of the kids and the home cooking and the honest conversations about real things I felt as if I had known them all my life. They truly made me feel like family and for that I will never forget my time there.

We talked it over and they agreed that I needed to take a day off. So Monday, 9/18 (Tracey and my second wedding anniversary!) I hung out with Jack and Joann.

Jack was happy to let me use his shop to work on the stove. I got it working relatively well and it hasn't had much trouble since. I also took the drive train off the bike and degreased it. The bottom of the cleaning pan was coated in black dirt with sand from the beach rolling around. Everything is working well now.

Again, thanks to the Green's and the Thompson's for their hospitality and great conversations.

Tuesday, 9/19 -
I left the Thomspon's and headed southeast on Hwy 78. Slow to get charged up this morning. I had spent three nights in a row in a bed, in a warm house. As nice as it was, I think it softened me up some.

Through Murphy to the Owyhee County History Museum then on down to Grand View. In Grand View I got a map for the C.J. Strike Recreation Area and rode 8 more miles to a campsite. I had been getting rained on off and on all day so when I got to Black Sands Resort I was ready to relax for a minute. 73 miles, 13.5 mph avg.

Luckily there is a bar on the lake there. I got ice and a beer and went out to set up camp. The tent was up, the bags were off the bike and I was just putting the last bit of dinner together when the sky opened up. Lighting made the hair on the back of my neck stand up and then the hail started. Cherry pit sized ice balls fell from the sky as I hustled the gear into the tent and zipped it up. Before I could make it to the bar with my pot of dinner I was soaked down to the skin.

After an hour it stopped and cleared; sharp, bright like sliced through from the west and splashed the surrounding bluffs in a straw yellow that made them gleam against the black clouds in the backdrop. It was refreshingly calm for the first time all day. My stuff stayed dry in the tent and the stove didn't get harmed by the rain.

Wednesday, 9/20 -
It rained again during the night but I was still dry. My dad lent me a little one-man tent that has held up well to the weather.

It took the usual hour to pack up camp, cook and eat oatmeal then get in the cockpit. The morning was similar to the preceding evening. Sun ripped through the fabric of clouds and made the irrigation spray in the fields glisten bright white.

I think a night out in the weather hardened me back up. This morning I met a few long hills through driving crosswinds that slowed me to a crawl. When I got the tail wind I flew at 18-20 mph on the flats. I felt good.

I blew into Glenn's Ferry after noon and rode down toward the Snake River to Three Island Crossing State Park. If you drive through here, get off the interstate at Glenn's Ferry and drive down to the Park, it's worth it. It's a nice modern museum and interpretive center that gives you a very good understanding of what it was like to ford the Snake River in a Prarie Schooner back in the mid 1800's.

Up at 4am to tend livestock and cook breakfast over a buffalo chip fire. Three hours later you're driving a team of oxen pulling all your earthly belongings across the desert. Then you get to this spot and have to get across a big river. Wagons capsized, teams of oxen drown, Indians had to be contracted to help drive livestock across...you had been on the trail for four months and still had the hardest month of travelling left.

That was grit.

I guess that also helped me put my own speed in perspective because at 70 miles a day I'm flying compared to those old-timers.

After the museum, I went to the Post Office and mailed a package back home to Tracey. A T-shirt I don't need (only need two), the pair of gloves that got chewed up by packrats, some maps of my trip so far and a pair of bike shorts. When people warn you to bring only really high quality bike shorts, listen to them. I have a bit of saddle rash and am pretty sore on my butt.

Eventually I made it to Bliss, ID after 69 miles at 13.2 mph avg. I spent the night next to the firehouse out of the gusty wind. It rained last night again. I didn't realize I had set up my tent under the eave of the building with no gutter- heavy drops pelted the edge of my tent all night sounding like the distant popping of a top-fuel dragster. pop...pop-pop-pop...pop-pop.....all night. I was so tired I slept through most of it.

I woke up and started to dress but couldn't find one of my leg warmers. So dissappointing. I must have lost it in the wind yesterday somewhere near King Hill, ID. If you see it, mail it to Tracey for me. I have the one leg warmer left and regardless of how rediculous it looks, I wear it on my left leg with nothing on my right. When I get to the bike shop in Pocatello I'll buy a new pair. I had grown so attached to that leg warmer...oh well.

Wet foggy morning has given way to dappled sunshine. The strong easterly wind has been pushing me along at my typical average speed of 13-14 mph. I hope to make another 45 miles today to somewhere near Minidoka, ID. Then tomorrow I'll be in Pocatello, ID...maybe Wyoming by Tuesday next week!

I'm nervous about this weather. I have a feeling I'm going to see snow before I hit the plains. The only thing I can do is keep riding and keeps my chin up. I bought a pair of headphones today to replace the ones that broke, so I'm back into the tunes! They really help the miles fly by.

Imagine me...a guy on a bike, white helmet, black sunglasses, yellow vest - one leg warmer, one bare leg, nylon shoe covers, headphones on, head bobbing to raggae or rock, Fuggies or Incubus...teeth gritting against a sore ass and pedals spinning away.

Underneath it all I'm so psyched to be out here, out there, doing this ride for the people that need it. Doing this ride because I can when others can't.

Keep the comments coming guys, they really hit me deep and help me through all this.
-Drew

I'm in Cairo, on the border with Idaho.

The photo to the right is of the desert, east of Riley.

So, where was I? Burns was the last you heard from me, I think.

Well, I left Burns at about 4pm. There was a pretty strong cross wind coming out of town but it didn't slow me down much. I put in another 25 miles to a small place called Buchanan. There is a store there that has a huge amount of Native American art work. Mavis, the owner, has lived there for over 35 years. The store has a single gas pump out front that was designed to accomidate Model T's. There's actually an old Model T on top of the garage next to the shop.

Mavis let me spend the night camped next to the trailer she's having renovated. The weather report called for 28 degree temps and a change of rain. I made a hearty beef, vegitable and rice stew that night. 52.4 miles, 14.2 mph avg., 9:15am-6:30pm

Thursday, 9/15: I woke up and made a huge pot of oatmeal. The stove starting acting up on me so I took it apart and cleaned it with gasoline. The air temp was close to 35 but the morning sun warmed me quickly. There had been no rain, thankfully.

I was facing two passes this day, the first of which I was at the foot of. I didn't want to start riding uphill immediately so I rode a mile down the road to warm up and stretch. As much muscle as I'm building, I'm actually gaining flexibility. I'm stretching properly for once and in the right proportions; focusing on each muscle group and holding poses for 20 seconds at a moderate stretch.

I hit Stinkingwater Pass at 9am and topped out at 9:30. At the summit I stopped to put on a jacket for the cold descent. Hail, the size of peppercorns began falling all around me. The wind up there was gusty and cold. I felt more in the mountains there than I did at the top of the Cascades, which was 1000' higher.

35+ miles per hour for five miles downhill. I coasted for the first bit then began pedalling to put some heat back into me. The air temp was probably about 45 but it felt frigid. At the bottom of the hill I passed the junction to the town of Drewsy. I really wanted to go there because I am Drew and I'm going to Jersey...it rhymes and I'm corny like that.

The second pass, Drinkwater, was a bit more challenging because it was a longer climb. I was being chased by a rain squall that stayed just off my rear, occasionally lobbing big cold drops at me but otherwise just acting ominous as alpine squalls do. Down, down, down from the summit. I hit my all-time top speed of 44mph! I passed from the Pacific Time Zone to Mountain Time! I hadn't even considered going through time zones on a bicycle. Completely amazing.

Into Juntura, OR. I stumbled into the Oasis Cafe and inhaled a cheeseburger and fries with a gallon of hot tea. I had the feeling of being in the ski lodge after a few hours on the slopes. As I was wrapping up, I ran into two motorcycle tourists from Boise; Jon and Ron. They looked over my route through Idaho and confirmed it's feasibility. Jon also gave me the number of a person to coordinate with in Pocatello, ID. I'm psyched to have someone there because it's right before I head into Wyoming.

OK, so after chewing the fat with those guys I hopped back in the cockpit and took off east. I was reluctant to go because the weather had been brewing the whole time was loligagging in the restaurant. The next town was 35 miles away and it was 2pm.

Despite the fear of getting stuck out there in between towns in a storm, there is an incredible feeling about leaving a place. Stepping out of the comfort of a town, getting on the road where relativity is warped, moving on to some new place, a new challenge, unique problems to solve. I feel like every mile I ride is a truly special thing. Every mile counts. Every new town counts. Every moment I'm working my way across this country puts me that much closer to the glorious day when I will stand on the beach in New Jersey. Knowing this keeps me in the cockpit for hours on end.

That day, I left Juntura and headed down the Malhouer River toward the Snake River Valley. There was a fierce gusting northern wind fighting me sometime and pushing me other times as I wound my way east through the crooked canyon. Rain froze my arms until I couldn't feel them, so I stopped to put on a jacket and as I did, the squall blew south past me. I rode only ten minutes in the cold rain but further down the valley I saw signs of a significant rain storm. I was lucky.

By 7:30 (mountain time) I was in Harper, OR. There is a small store on the highway run by a guy named Brian. He had the simple, honest way of speaking that western people do. It was endearing and made me feel like I had moved on geographically from the Pacific Coast to the Western US. Brian mentioned that the principal of the Harper school had an open invitation for any cyclist to camp on the school grounds.

I rode the mile over to the small town and found the school. I set up camp on a small piece of grass where I could imagine myself a little kid playing games with my friends during lunch recess. The town was a quiet place with horses coralled in backyards and where people ride ATV's on the few narrow streets. There was a hose where the athletic teams fill up water coolers, that I used to wash my face and fill my bottles. It was simply the most friendly place I had been on my trip and I felt comfortable and safe for once.

My stove on the other hand was not being friendly. I took it apart again and cleaned it, but something was brewing I could tell. 73.5 mi, 13.6mph avg., 9am-7:30

9/16 - No oatmeal, no coffee, no stove because the damn thing won't burn the gasoline properly. It sputters and flares and then dies completely and I can't light it even though it's volitalizing fuel. This scenario played out twice this morning before I packed it up and munched some cold granola and a ClifBar.

Not too cold this morning, but brisk. I packed and rode back out to the highway after a nice quiet night at school. Brian poured me a cup of coffee to warm my hands and I wrote a thank you letter to the school principal. I was on the road at 9:30.

Pretty straight forward day. My left butt bone is sore but my legs are good solid tree trunks by now. The one short pass I climbed was cake and I coasted into Vale by 11:30, 23 miles away.

I grabbed more coffee and mailed some letters then headed out. At Cairo I headed north and found my way to the home of Lester and May Scott. They are the parents of a person my uncle met at his church. I'm sitting at their computer writing this to you. Lester was a surgeon for years and years, serving in the Army durring WWII and in the Air Force during the Korean War. Mary raised their four daughters in this very house. They have watermelons they can't eat fast enough and I spied a big crate of walnuts in the basement. They even used to run a few head of cattle years ago, something I truly admire.

So I've done a load of wash, taken a shower and am wearing an old set of Lester's jeans and oxford shirt. I'm relaxed for once. Mary fed me a huge sandwich and Lester cut me a slice of watermelon fit for three people.

I feel like I am at home for once and am able to collect my thoughts a bit. Still I'm antsy. I have a long road ahead. I've been warned several times about Wyoming and the coming fall weather. This cold snap is certainly worrisome because it brings undertones of early season blizzards and cold Rocky Mountain rain.

Can't worry about the weather. Just have to ride through it if it gets bad. Hole up when I can and grit my teeth when I can't.

This respite is exactly what I needed at this point in the trip. It will prepare me the days and weeks ahead.

Thank you for all your comments, they were fun to read. Please keep them coming!
Lots of love,
Andrew

I made it to Burns, OR this morning. There is so much to say I can barely think straight.

This is the most difficult thing I've ever done...EVER. Hill after hill, trucks going 65 only a few feet off, the heat, the cold, the spooky lonely nights.

My eyes well up on average three times a day. This is scary as hell. Who am I? Am I insane? Why would anyone choose to do this alone, at this time of year, without a plan on where to stay every night? I miss Tracey incredibly.

But...there are times when I feel invincible. When the honk of a passing car and a shaken fist of encouragement fire me up and make me feel like everyone is a friend. When a trucker pays for my breakfast out of admiration. When I stop at the top of a pass and look out on a beautiful day in a beautiful place that is totally and completely new because I have a unique perspective that I've never had before.

If I wasn't experiencing both sadness and minor triumphs in the same day, in the same hour even, it wouldn't be so real.

I'm sore. My thighs feel like they need two massages, a hot tub and a week of rest. Without either I resort to self-massage, stretching and little else. Luckily, my knees feel pretty good. I've iced them a few times and use the topical Ibuprophen/Lydocain (spelling?) that was prescribed before I left. I'm slightly worried because there is a twinge of pain in the place I occurred during training, but it's not severe at all.

So to recap my progress:
Sunday 9/10 - Eugene to McKenzie Bridge, 59 miles over 7 hours. It was a nice ride except for the construction east of Vida, which basically left the road shoulder less. I rode with my buddy Todd. Tracey and Todd's girlfriend, Rebekah drove up to meet us and camp with us. We had a nice night playing dominoes and cards.

Monday 9/11 - to Cold Springs Camp Ground, 4 miles west of Sisters, 41.5 miles over 7 hours. This was the toughest day of riding I've ever had; up and over the McKenzie Pass at 5250 ft. or something. My uncle Roger drove up with his wife Joyce and they brought my grandfather. It was nice too see them before I got too far from Eugene. I also ran into my friends Robert and Taylor as they were driving up the pass for sightseeing with Taylor's sister.

I made the top of the pass going about 4.7 mph the whole time. It took about 6 hours to top out. The views of the Three Sisters and Mt. Washington to the north were well worth the effort. The lack of traffic justified taking the much steeper and narrower highway than the Santiam Pass. If ever you are in Oregon you have to drive over the McKenzie Pass, it's awesome.

Anyway, 35 mph the whole way down to the campsite. My first night camping out alone on the trip. It was certainly spooky; glowing raccoon eyes out in the bushes, scavenging all night long making enough noise to keep me awake off and on. Then when I finally did fall asleep I woke up to this incredible thumping that was getting louder and faster and bearing down on me. I woke in a panic and threw my hands in the air with a shriek. The thumping changed course and trailed off into the bushes. I was heart attack scared and reached for my headlight but couldn't see anything out there. When I finally laid back down I heard the thumping off in the distance a few times every minute. I imagine it was a deer or an elk that had no idea I was sleeping right on the ground without a tent.

Tuesday, 9/12 - to Millican, OR, 51 miles, 12.7 mph ave, 8a-6:30p I packed up camp and rode a few miles to the town of Sisters. I grabbed a bagel and got back on the road toward Bend. I was pretty sore from climbing the pass on the previous day. I felt it acutely on the steep hill between Tumalo and Bend. Made it to bend my 11a and went into Target. I looked at a map and bought a pair of cheap fleece slipper for around camp. They are totally useless, I should have held out, oh well.

I ate lunch behind Target in the shade of a maple tree with a Cascade Mountain backdrop. Back on the road...I was on the east side of Bend by 1p. I filled up on water and some gasoline for my stove and headed east on Hwy 20. At about 2:15 I realized the heat would kill me so I stopped and made Mac n' Cheese then took a nap until about 4:15. A regular siesta.

A little note on my route through Oregon: I knew which highway I wanted to take so I neglected to bring a map. What I didn't plan on was this whole 'desert thing' that exists in central Oregon. I mean it's a bonafied desert with sand, coyotes, cold nights and most importantly, blistering hot afternoons.

Basically, I got 25 miles east of Bend to what I thought would be a town with at least water. Millican is only a town because there is an abandoned store that says 'Millican Store' on the side. I had one quart of water to make dinner and get me to the next town in the morning.

I hauled the bike off the road, through the desert to the barbed wire cattle fence on the edge of BLM land. Took the bags off the bike and lifted them and the bike over the fence. I camped at the base of a 12-foot tall rocky wall that hid me from the highway. I slept better that night, but the pack rats woke me up a few times. When I woke up I found they'd eaten a huge hole in one of my gloves and ate some of my helmet straps. Salt is a tasty treat.

Wednesday, 9/13 - to Riley, 80 miles, 14.9mph. I got up, hauled the bags and the bike over the fence to the edge of the highway. I packed the bags back on and got back into the cockpit. I was in Brothers in an hour eating eggs and talking to a truck driver who paid for my breakfast. Filled up on water and headed east to Hampton. Fries and ice cream and more water.

It was starting to get hot again and I didn't want to spend another spooky night in the desert alone. Despite my fear of running out of water I left Hampton and headed east again. I developed a method of hopping from shade to shade. I ride for 30-45 minutes looking for the next piece of shade and then stop there for 15-20 minutes. It's a hard to force myself to stop but obviously it worked. I made it to Riley after 8 hours, riding 80 miles. There was a moderate tailwind pushing me across the desert for which I will be forever grateful. Thank you for sending it my way!

Thursday, 9/14 - Got rained on last night. Didn't matter. I was camped in the back of an RV lot near the Riley Store. They owner graciously let me have a shower last night and I got to rinse out my riding shirt and one pair of shorts. I slept in this morning to 7:30 and leisurely rode into Burns 25 miles away.

After I'm done typing this I'm going to head back out on the road and camp somewhere in the Steens Mountains...I have no idea where right now. There are two passes between me and Idaho but they should be ok on me now that I understand how to stay cool and how to pace myself. It's pretty chilly outside right now, but I guess once I get back on the road I will warm up.

I'm a little sunburned and have a week of scruff on my face. I'm getting skinnier already but have been eating as much as I can stomach.

So much to say. Basically I miss friends and family. I miss Tracey especially but hearing her voice on the phone is a blessing every day.

Your names on my bike have been inspirational. It makes me happy to see you all there, but what I didn't expect was that it would make me incredible sad by magnifying the distance I am from all of you. Think good thoughts and plan for success, I'm out here, out there.
-Drew

Sweet! There is another article about the ride in the Saturday, Asbury Park Press. Click here to see the online version.

My parents told me that the paper version has a few good pictures of me at the Pacific Ocean. If you live in Jersey, check it out.

Last minute details are getting wrapped up today. Launch is still scheduled for tomorrow morning.

Thank you everyone!
-Drew

I rode from the beach in Florence, Oregon today. Tracey and I met up with Dan Harrington, Andi Thomas and Rob Ramlow. We all walked down to the water with the bike and I rolled the back tire into the Pacific Ocean. We took a ton of pictures!








I spread a small amount of my grandmother's ashes into the Pacific Ocean and will carry more to New Jersey and spread them in the Atlantic. I also filled a small bottle with Pacific Ocean water and will carry that with me for the same purpose.

The ride was good. 65 miles in 4:45 of riding. 10 miles from the beach I was riding along and just became overwhelmed with emotion. I realized that today was the first day of a seven week journey that has and will continue to revolutionize my life. I thought about Brian and missing his companionship, that really hit me deep. Seeing Dan one last time was also tough; I don't know if he'll be able to have a celebratory drink when I return to Oregon or not.

After a while a settled into the rythm of pedalling and listening for traffic.

I had to go through a 1/4 mile tunnel. The noise inside a tunnel is deafening. At about halfway through, a log truck entered behind me and the air exploded with the sound of a big diesel engine. It then proceeded to get louder and louder as he approached. Nerves. Lots of nerves to keep pedalling straight and not stop to cower against the wall.

Tomorrow is the picnic. Sunday I leave town. Thank you all for your well wishes!
-Drew

We finally did it! The food shipments are all laid out.

Tracey has been amazing these past two days. She came back from Burning Man and dove right in. Without her helping to organize it would have taken about twice as long to deal with all the food. We had 12 grocery bags of food to portion out, seal up and make into daily piles which were then combined into weekly loads. It was a massive project. My friend Brandon was an enormous help as well, both with advice and grunt work.

Thanks again to the Market of Choice for all the food. I also got word from Costco that they will donate $50 of store credit. Tracey will use that to purchase any ancillary items I need (ziplocks, vitamins, drink mix...).

I was ON AIR today at KLCC, the local National Public Radio station here in Eugene. I was so nervous going into the interview but everyone said I did fantastic and I'm really happy about it. More than anything I got a chance to truly explain my motivation; the emotional overload that led me to conceive of this project.

With only one day left I don't know if I can make the interview available online for you to hear. I will try to do that.

I wanted to remind everyone that this weblog will have updates on my progress. Both Tracey and my buddy Chris will be guest authors. I'll call them with updates every few days and they will let you know my whereabouts, my current motivations, struggles, epiphonies, favorite music for the day...that sort of stuff. Check back here often and SEND ME COMMENTS. I can't wait to read what you have to say.

I expect to be able to use the internet about once a week or so. I'll look for internet cafes, public universities and libraries. I'll also have access in Denver and Chicago when I visit Chris and my brother, respectively.

I'm pretty nervous. I was jumping around all day doing errands and was just a jittery ball of energy. There is a long list of To Do's right next to my keyboard here:
Stop into Costco
Phone interview with Asbury Park Press in New Jersey
Prepare for the party this weekend
Lay out my route from Denver to Chicago
Compile a list of cities I'll travel through so Jon at work can send out press releases as I go
Dry treat my panniers
Figure out how best to stow my water
Pack the bags with 1st week of food
Go to Post Office and get flat rate boxes, then pack the boxes
Breathe
Breathe again

The breathing thing is more important than you might expect. I actually forgot to breathe the other day and fell over backwards. It was embarassing.

That's how my life is going at the moment. This is the most intense thing I've ever done and without Tracey it just wouldn't be possible.

It also wouldn't be as exciting and powerful without your donations and frequent emails. Thank you everyone for your support. I feel as if I am doing the right thing for all the right reasons and every one of you has contributed to that sensation.

Thanks! I'll let you know how the first leg from Florence back to Eugene goes on Friday.
-Drew

Just a note that I'm having a potluck picnic in Eugene this Saturday (9/9) at 1pm. It will be in Skinner's Butte Park along the south side of the road that goes through the park (NOT on top of the Butte). Click here for directions.

As you drive through the park on Cheshire Ave there is a hillside on one side and a grassy park on the other. We will be on the hillside side of the road where there is a stone wall. On top of the stone wall there is an area with 20 or so picnic tables. There is ample parking on Cheshire Ave adjacent to the spot.

Send me comments if you have questions.

I'm hard at work with Tracey getting the last minute details of food sorted out. Wish me luck!
-Drew

I am in the newspaper today. The Oregon Life section of the Register Guard newspaper (click here for the online version).

The media coverage is working in two ways. The fundraising has been going extremely well this week. I've raised over $1000 this week alone and am approaching the 1/3 mark. Everyone who has donated is very special to me. I have been trying to email each of you directly but at this point there are over 70 of you. I will put together a list serve before I leave so I can hit you all with one note as I progress.

Many of the contributors included personal accounts of their struggles. I've traded emails with survivors, oncologists, people going through treatment, people who have had other family members stricken. Your stories and well wishes are inspiring. Keep sending them!

This week's interviews made me focus on my mission and motivation. I have begun to realize that what I'm doing is symbolic of an individual fight with cancer. There is an expected route but changes are inevitable and I won't know the outcome of each day until I live it. There are uncertainties along every stretch of road and in each town I enter. What if the bike breaks, what if I get sick, where will I spend the night tonight, what town should Tracey send the next package to and will it make there on time?

After the first week I hope I get used to the constant shuffle. Packing up camp, cooking breakfast, packing the bike, planning the day's calories and water. Then on the road, pedaling all day, reading the map, finding my way, trying not to get lost. Towards evening I will start looking for a safe place to camp, then unpack the bike, start cooking dinner and set up the tent. I will have to ice my knees, fight off saddle sores, manage nutrition and maintain the bike. Eat dinner, clean up, lay out breakfast and fall asleep. I have to plan my water needs and be on the look out for free potable water. I have to fill up on gasoline to run my camp stove. I have to make sure my bike is safe when I go into stores and bathrooms.

Always on the go, always planning, looking ahead. Constantly chasing nutritional requirements, being at the top of the health curve. Taking care of myself every second of every day. A mountain of hope supported by deliberate actions and will power to keep going. One minute. One mile. One hour. One town. One day. One week. One section. All strung together in a continuum at the head of which is me pedaling one revolution at a time.

You will all be with me as I go through this. Your names will be on the bike but your encouragement will be in my chest.

Yes, I'm nervous. No, I'm not afraid.

If I can raise another 2/3 by the time I get to New Jersey and arrive there safely, it will be monumental for me. If I can arrive in New Jersey safely it will still be impressive.
-Drew

Oh, so much going on. I apologize for not writing earlier this week.

The Market of Choice donated 10 bags of groceries on Tuesday. They're awesome people. If you live in Eugene I strongly recommend that you shop at their stores. Rick Wright, the owner, was especially great. My buddy Brandon helped me vacuum seal about 100 packages of granola and trail mix last night. Moving right along.

I did an interview yesterday with KEZI 9 and the story aired on the evening news last night. To check out the narrative of the interview click here.

I also did an interview and photo shoot with the Register Guard, the Eugene area newspaper. The story will run this Sunday in the 'Oregon Life' section. I'll also put a link to that article here on my weblog.

Tracey has been away all week at Burning Man, a huge festival in the Nevada desert. She went with a crew of friends and was so excited to go. When she comes home early next week we'll be able to spend some quality time together before I leave. We're both off of work the whole week.

Thanks so much to everyone who has helped with donations and getting the word out about what I'm doing. There are so many people to thank, you are all awesome.

Thank you everyone.
-Drew