Life Spoke

Thank You...

2007-02-08T16:54:00.000-08:00

to every one who helped me with this incredible venture.

Here are a few names:

Sameer Advani
James Anastasio
Molly Baab
John Baranello
Janice Bartholomew
Mom and Dad
Matthew Bascue and Kristin Mulkahy
Roger Bascue
Wayne Bemlinger
Valerie Bernard
Emily Bernath
Black Sands Resort
Edward Boman
Robert Borning
Joseph Boyan
Stephen Brunner
Gary Bryson
Susan Bussel
Isma Chaudhry
Kathy Christoffersen
Jason Collins
Donald Condit
Todd and Rebekha Cooper
Gwen Cullen
Charlotte Dadabay and the ISU Crew
Leslie and Ed Dailey
Brian and Michelle Dellett
Danelle Devenport
Terri Dickinson
Debbie Dolyle
John Dunn
Joan Easton
Karline Elder
Kay and Lester Fatheree
Joe and AnnMarie Ferdinando
Nancy Flanagan
Marcie Fourre
Dana Freeman
Amy Hunsicker and Mike Fritz
Manoli Galanakis
Joe Geib
Frank C. Gibson, Inc.
Chris and Tony Guinta
Tony and Stephanie Guinta
Marlan Gonzales
Heather Gorman
Kieth and Jolyn Green
Eileen Guarascio
Dan Harrington
Steve and Sharon Hill
Robert Hogan
Marilyn and Don Holland
Nicholas Holmes
Caroline Hubbard
Sarah Ill
Kim and Dan Jackson
Jackson Family
Janice Johnson
Rebecca and Jimbo Keating
Beatrice Kilduff
Gerald Killane
Judy Kirschenbaum
Rebecca Kozisek
Jason Kuo
Amy Lancaster
Kristina Lang and Drew Hartley
Clayton Laramie
Kristen and Grant in Laramie
Gavin Lau
Dawn Lesley
Ray Latourneau
Charles Lickel
Dan Lickel
Jason and Skylar Lickel
Ken and Joanne Lickel
Robert Lickel
David Longdon
Reema and Sam Loutan
Kathryn Lynch
Michael Lynch
Elizabeth Lyons
Peter Mannella
Theodore Martens
Mary Mears
Dorothy Mersereau
Alexis Meyer
Scott and Roger Miller
Michael Moltzen
Jane Monserud
Daisy Monticelli
Walter Mugdan
Marlene Neff
Sherba Nelson
William and Cory Neston
Brendan Newman
Carla Nickelsen
Anne and Tom Nodes
Jim Overhuel
Joe Pajonas and Friends
Jan Perin
Justin Perlman
Dani Petrey
Lori Poletti
Patti and Ted Pulling
Thomas and Lynn Ritchie
Lisa Rohrbough
Pat Rolls
Rich Rolls
Laura Romeyn
Paulette Rosen
Peter Sandin
Donald Schaffner
Alan Schwartz
Lester and Mary Scott
Regina Seeger
John Shea
Chuck and Joann Shotola
Jeanette Spano
Elizabeth Spurrell
Brandon Stager
Bud and Lindy Stahlman
Fred Stringer
Emily Terrell
Andi, Michael, Seth and Ian Thomas
Jack and JoAnn Thompson
Jon, Kate and Olivia Thompson
Lisa and Eric Tiedemann
Alison Vogt
Mary Wagner
Ray Werner
Kara Whipple
Kirk Wieber
Nick Wirth
Roby Young
John Zacherle
Neysa Zurkammer

Back at Home

2006-11-15T22:34:00.000-08:00

Got back on Friday. Tracey picked me up in Portland at nearly midnight. She didn't recognize me with my beard, she called my name like a question, 'Drew?'. We hugged eachother for a long time.

Saturday at home, I spent the day putting things back in order. There were clothes to be washed, food to cook and a home to get used to again. I ran out to the grocerie store and the bank. By the time I got home I was ready to lock myself inside. I forgot how confusing the grid system of roads can be when you don't have them memorized and you're speeding around in a car. We had a few friends over Saturday night and I caught up on what's been going on.

Sunday was an easy day, watching football and writing. I had no desire to go out anywhere so I stayed in and picked up minor tasks that lay strewn around.

Monday, Tracey went to school and I worked on my list. Saw my grandfather, got a haircut and spent a few hours at the laundraumat cleaning our down conforter and my down sleeping bag. Tracey went to the doctor for the third time about her stomach pains. She's pretty sure she has an ulcer. They scheduled her for a barium cocktail and radiology to check it out.

Meanwhile, I found out that my health insurance lapsed while I was gone. Despite what I was told when I made inquiries about taking the time off of work, we didn't have any coverage for the months of October or November. I'm looking into the options, but more than likely we'll have to pay for Cobra insurance. Tracey visited the doctor a number of times in October and I got an MRI on my ankle. We need coverage to keep those injuries and ailments covered in the future.

Tuesday I drove Tracey and two friends up to Portland. They flew to Denver and are spending a week there attending a Green Buildings Conference. The school paid for their airfare because they are volunteering at the conference and will be representing the U of O. They'll be staying with my friends Chris and Kelli, just like I did when I was in Denver.

I pulled the bike out of the box and re-assembled it. The airline treated it very well, no bruises.

Today, Wednesday, I went back to work. It was good to have structure again. I got all caught up on what has happened since I left. No big surprises there. After work I went over to REI to see my friends and chatted with Jude from the bike shop for a while about the trip.

This evening I had dinner at my uncle's house. He's been driving my grandfather over for dinner every night and I think they all enjoy the closeness of family. I know I did - it was good to feel somewhat at home there.

So, I got a new email address - you can all feel free to use my old one if you have that, but I didn't want to broadcast it across the internet. If you don't have that address, send me an email at:
lifespoke@hotmail.com

I don't know why I didn't think of that earlier.

I'm too tired to write something very interesting right now...some reflection on my time at home. But I've been writing plenty about it offline. Here is a small sample of what I've put down:

I’m lethargic. My system is transitioning from the constant effort to the constant atrophy. The things I have to do seem slow and unimportant. A huge difference from living each moment into the next, a series of efforts stringing in a line to get me where I’m going. Here I could sit on my ass all day and at the end of the day I’d be right where I need to be – right where I started, here at home with Tracey.

I don’t have to weigh every purchase against the pain involved to haul it with me. A bottle of garlic is wheeled to the checkout, carried to the car, driven ‘cross town, carried up the steps and placed in the refrigerator. It’s there when you need it and it doesn’t have to minded while it waits for you to use it again. A bag of potatoes, onions, three hearts of romaine, a bottle of blueberry juice, two bars of soap, two bottles of wine and a whole chicken. Waiting for me, part of a passive system that only requires I use it before it spoils. No breakage, no worry over portion size, no packing up soap when you’re done using it, toothbrush in the cup in the cabinet next to a full-sized tube of paste.

Time is in flux as well. Time on the road was everything – I have to ride to X town by dark tonight or my whole schedule is messed up. Get up early, one hour before I’m riding, glancing at my watch the whole time to keep it within that hour. Ride for an hour then stretch and eat. By noon have eaten such and such amount of food. I know the exact time of sunset and I have to make it by then. Once I get there I have to know the time of dark in case I need to set up my tent under its cover. Time zones change, an hour here, an hour there. Speed is measured in increments of one hour – miles per hour. Ten miles per hour was the realistic time out there.

The Last Push

2006-11-07T05:45:00.000-08:00

It's taken me a while to sit down and write. As for riding, this will be the last entry. I'll keep updating until I get home to Oregon, to Tracey. When I finally see Tracey again the trip will be over. It's been over two months since we've seen each other - too long.

The last few weeks have been disorienting. I've been surrounded by family and friends, staying up past dark, getting up a little later in the morning. I'm indoors more than outdoors and I've only felt the wind on my face a few times. With only a few hours by myself, solitary contemplation has been fleeting. I want to write all the time, but I don't want to be anti-social. Ideas clogging my thoughts, I find myself staring at things when people are talking to me. I hope it doesn't seem too odd, but I fear it does. A slow transition back to 'normal'.

I'm still holding onto it, to the dream of traveling and writing and giving back to society in this way. I love this process - go somewhere new and capture it in words, from the perspective of virgin eyes. I hope I have done this well at times but there were so many things I saw that I couldn't harness. We can only do our best and that's all. Besides, I was riding a bike many dozens of miles each day, to write everything would have slowed me considerably.

I've learned so much. About this country, about giving, about faith, trust, support...about me. Riding out of Colorado I thought almost constantly about what to do with my life. I gained so much perspective through being with friends. Seeing the way they live their lives; the roads they have taken, the professional paths they are choosing. "What am I really destined to do? What do I really want to do with this life?" It's not cut and dried like it used to be - you went to college to be a doctor and you were a doctor. You went to trade school to be an electrician or mason and you worked. A farmer, a mechanic, engineer, lawyer, businessman. Most people chose a track and the train rolled through to retirement. Young people in my generation have been encouraged to 'find a job that makes them happy'...but the options are overwhelming and college life can be numbing.

I flipped the coin of engineering and writing so many times I got sick of the question. Many of you have encouraged me to keep writing and I'm seriously considering it. I can't help but wonder if the reading is better because of the context, not the writer. I try to muffle that negativity but it lingers.

Anyway, that's where I'm at. Stuck in limbo on the career question and still a few days away from seeing Tracey. I'm very much looking forward to getting home, to letting my guard down. So much shuffling over the past months, I want to set the cards down at home. Go to work, see friends, put my life back in motion. Breathe.
_______________________________________________________
Finished the ride last Saturday - the last push. Met up with eight friends and family and we rode down to the beach. It was the first time I'd ridden with a big group and it was fun. Chatting, joking, laughing. Only 21 miles from Freehold to the beach and my ankle felt fine while I was on the bike.

We rolled onto the road that parallels the inlet and the sun was high and bright. Riding in a group buoyed me above the depths of my mental space. I was grasping to gain context on what was happening - the ride of a lifetime was coming to a close and I hadn't assessed how I was feeling about it. My emotions were bland, un-aroused. The pace was leisurely and the weather so soft that there was no edge. I had expected to be dogged tired, tough and road weary. I was anything but tired and road weary.

We took some photos at the pavilion on the end of the boardwalk, and then I hefted the bike out onto the sand. I pushed the bike down into the water. The knee-high breakers collapsed and rolled up the sand, swirling around my ankles as my feet sunk. The ocean was beautiful. The crowd on the beach was cheering.

Two bottles, one with Grandma's ashes, one with Pacific Ocean water. The ashes flew in the breeze and the water splashed as the two oceans met. I tasted the last drop of water out of the bottle, cold and salty.

I assembled my group of riders and we took photos. Hugs and handshakes, congratulations and smiles.

I have to apologize to those that were there. I was uncharacteristically somber; you all deserved the crazy explosive madman. But what you got was a contemplative person wondering if I deserved all this. I hadn't ridden the whole way, I wasn't really ready to be done. The word 'finished' kept flying around but I was stuck figuring out what that word really meant. It was hard for me to say that without wanting to footnote it - I hadn't finished in the style I set out with.

Over to Leggett's Bar for lunch. It was weird to be insulated by so many loving friends and family after the ceremony on the beach. No time to think, my brain was overloaded. I wish I had been able to address the crowd with a few words of gratitude for their support and donations. Usually I can pull something out to deliver, but I was completely at a loss for summarizing this day. My thoughts were running around unsupervised and I couldn't collect very many.

It was a really nice time. Drinking beer and eating home food. The jovial atmosphere was infectious and I was calmly happy to share in the spirit.

After lunch my Achilles started hurting. We had ridden only 21 miles, but that was enough. The lump at the back of my heel came back and the sore squeakiness crept back in. I welcomed the pain as a sign that I had made the right decision not to continue riding from Chicago. I would have had to ride over 1000 more miles...that would have been ridiculous. After days and days of rest a short ride had inflamed the tendonitis. Confirmation.

The pain was a sign that I had actually completed the ride. I slowly gained satisfaction that I had done everything in my power to ride across the United States. This injury was out of my control. "Worrying is like rocking in a chair, it gives you something to do but the effort gets you nowhere." (a quote from Chris Guinta)

Tuesday I went up to New York City. I had lunch with Mike and Kirk, coworkers from the EPA. We went up to my old office on the 25th floor. It felt like home - I had spent thousands of hours up there sharing teamwork with a dynamic, energetic group of comrades. We went out after they were done working and talked for hours, catching up on the years gone by.

Wednesday morning I went to the Freehold Intermediate School. I spoke to two classes about my trip. They had been following my progress and using it as an example for class work. The kids were great, they had thoughtful questions and innocent questions. I explained to them about my writing process and how I take notes, how I remember what to say when I finally sit down as I am now. I think they took something away from what I said and I hope it helped them put in context how rewarding it is to continue learning throughout life.

Wednesday night I went to a Boy Scout meeting - my old Troop 155. I spoke to them about the importance of planning things out, researching and mentally preparing yourself for challenges. I encouraged them to go on a solo mission of their own one day, but not until they are much older - people will take advantage of a well intentioned young person faster than they can blink. I also wanted to let them know that Boy Scouts had laid the foundation for all my outdoor sports and that being an Eagle Scout has helped me in life immeasurably.
________________________________________________________
This is a long entry, but I'm going to recap my progress from Chicago to Jersey as well:

Monday 10/30:
We drove south to Kankakee, IL and had lunch at a diner. The wind was blasting out of the south as my mom dropped me off east of Momence, IL. I rode across the gusty wind into Indiana on Hwy 114. It was strange, but there was no sign to mark the entrance into Indiana.

We drove for hours and miles through Indiana farm country on Hwy 10. The land was flat with the occasional low rolling hills. The roads were narrow but the traffic was light. We came into Warsaw and called around for campgrounds. All the ones listed in the phone book were closed for the season so we opted for a motel in North Webster. We cooked sausages and rice right outside the motel room, the owner came by and didn't have a thing to say about it.

Tuesday, 10/31:
East on Hwy 8 through quaint farming towns. Rolling hills brought us to the Ohio border. I got out in Newville and suited up. A stout tailwind blew me toward Ohio and I had fun going 25 miles per hour with little effort. We met up in Hicksville, OH where we took this photo.

On the edge of town I explained the grain elevators and the co-op system to my mom. Trailer loads of grain pull up to the office and onto the scale. A dipper goes into the load and pulls out a few samples of grain which are assayed. The truck then goes over to an enclosed bay next to the huge silos where an operator opens the valve and the grain flows onto the floor, through the grates and is conveyed up into the silos. Based on the quality of the grain assayed and the tonnage, the farmer gets a receipt for his crop. We watched a half dozen trucks pull up and make deliveries. It was fascinating to watch.

East on Hwy 18 into the cute old town of Defiance. East on Hwy 281 through flat open farming country. It was very similar to central Nebraska. At Bradner we got onto US 6 and took it into Fremont. Behind a supermarket, beside the Sandusky River we make a pot of soup and ate good rye bread. It was getting late in the day and the sky was threatening rain as were the meteorologists.

East on US 20 around Norwalk and up to I-80. Our plan was to be just west of Pennsylvania that night. We took the interstate to make up time; it was raining and dreary out. I-80 east to I-271 north around Cleveland then I-90 east to Painesville. We found a flee-bag motel on the edge of town - neither of us was excited about camping in the rain.

It was Halloween and the young people staying in the room next to ours were dressed up and ready to go out. They marveled at the camping stove and the sautéed shrimp and tilapia I was cooking with it. Dinner was fabulous with a side of quinoa (South American super grain).

Wednesday, 11/1:
East on US 20 to Geneva. Here we went north to Geneva-on-the-Lake, which reminded us both of a Jersey Shore resort town like Seaside or Point Pleasant. At the City Park we saw the lake. The wind off of Lake Erie was sending small waves onto the beach. The air was fresh and smelled like the distant, mild ocean air when you're a few miles away from the Atlantic. Hard to place.

There are no tides on the Lake, but the small waves made us both feel as if we were on the beach of some estuarine bay near the ocean. It was pleasant.

East on Hwy 20 to Kingsville, then south to Hwy 84 east. Just outside of Bushnell I suited up again and rode into Pennsylvania just west of Tracy, PA. It was a beautiful day, cool but not cold, sunny but not glaring. I got into the car at the junction of Hwy 226 and US 6N.

Within a few miles we drove into the hills. Into the Allegany National Forest near Warren, PA. It was beautiful. If we'd been there a few weeks earlier the leaves would have been explosively painted. What we saw were the late fall browns and rusty reds with the odd pillar of orange in the distance. The hardwood forests were nice to see, as I'd spent my boyhood hiking through such land.

As dusk was beginning to dim the view we found a campsite east of Roulette. The tent went up, the stove came on and soon we were grilling steaks on a propane grill. We finished dinner and I started to build a fire when the first drops fell. The forecast had deceived us by calling for clouds only.

We huddled under the open door at the back of the car, watching the fire. The rain gathered speed and was soon dumping buckets on us. Luckily the big tent my mom had brought was battle tested in the wet spring of the Maine woods.

Thursday, 11/2:
It was sunny when we awoke. We were dry and not too chilly. We packed slowly but were on the road early. This Highway 6, The Grand Army of the Republic Highway was my intended route through Pennsylvania. It would have been a fine road to ride on. The shoulders were wide and the uphill climbs would have rewarded me with roller coaster downhill drops.

Just west of Wellsboro we turned off to see the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. A paved single-lane road brought us up to the trailhead. We walked a half mile and the ground fell away down to the river below. It was beautiful and I can only imagine how intense it would have been with trees wearing their fall coats of color.

Back at the trail head I put on my cycling clothes and pushed off. Over three miles of downhill riding I hit a top speed of the 38 mph, laying the bike into the curves with an ear toward oncoming traffic - I saw no other cars. At the bottom I got back in and we headed east again.

The towns along Hwy 6 define the word quaint. Square old stone buildings along the rivers. Narrow streets that wind along following the contour of the valley. Then out of town through unpopulated timber and the occasional farm where the valley floor opens up wide.

We saw a sign for Keystone College and it rang a bell. We drove into Factoryville and I turned off at a sign for the school. Yes, we had been here before. My mom and I drove here when I was in high school, looking for a college to attend. We remembered the store where ten years ago we saw several pickup trucks with big dead bloody bucks stretched across their hoods. It was opening day and the good ol' boys were outside the store drinking beers with thoughts of backstrap and venison burgers. How coincidental to be driving through, together, at the same time of year!

East through Scranton, then south to I-80, east again to Hwy 33, south to Easton, PA. We drove up the hill in Easton to Lafayette College, Tracey's alma mater. Some photos then I flew down the hill and into town, around the big circle and east toward Phillipsburg. I crossed into New Jersey at the local bridge between the two towns. Huge signs told me to walk my bike, so that climax was deflated.

Back in Jersey. I-78 east to I-287 south into New Brunswick onto Rt. 18. South to Freehold and we were home by 6pm. No need to take the back roads in Jersey, I'd seen almost the whole state as a kid and young adult.

Friday I bought a pair of normal shoes and walked around the yard. Saturday we rode to Manasquan.

I'll send a note to let you know how my trip back home goes. Thanks to everyone!
-Andrew

Quick Video

2006-11-03T20:27:00.000-08:00

This is a quick little video from when I was approaching the Continental Divide in Wyoming. It's a bit lat but hey...it's a video.

Click Here

Closing In

2006-11-01T11:30:00.000-08:00

I'm in Youngsville, PA at the Public Library. The connection is funky so no pics, just the basics.

My Achilles has been bad, so I've only ridden about 20 miles in the past three days. Over the state borders. My mother and I are having a good time staying on the back roads that I would have ridden on my bike. It really stinks not being out there with my face in the wind, incapsulated in the style I started with. Everything for a reason right? I'm doing what I need to for my health...am I getting old now?

Details:

Riding from Freehold this Saturday (11/4).

To ride with me and friends: Meet at the Freehold Boro High School on Robertsville Rd. at 9am. I'll wait there until 9:15 or so. Should be about 25 miles to Manasquan...should be there by 12:00 or 1:00 in the afternoon.

To meet us at the beach: We'll end the ride at the Manasquan River inlet. Up on the beach, down to the water where the surfers hang out - next to the jetty. If you get there early, walk out to the jetty, it's a cool walk.

After dipping the tire, dumping the water and spreading ashes we're gonna party. Head down to Leggett's Sand Bar which is on the main road across from the arcades. Not sure how long we'll be there but I'd love to meet you all and answer questions/crack jokes/tell tall tales.

Saturday night I'm going up to Milltown (just outside of New Brunswick). My buddy Drew Umyn is having a get-together at his apartment - 260 Riva Avenue, Milltown.

Tuesday I'm heading up to NYC to meet up with friends. I'll be in the City around noon for lunch, then we'll go out after 5pm to hang out - I'll be downtown near City Hall.

I'll also be speaking to elementary school kids next week - Freehold Intermediate School. On Wednesday I'll go to a Boy Scout meeting - Troop 155, my troop from Freehold.

Again, if your school, church, club, etc. would like to speak with me, let me know.

I'll be flying back to Oregon on Friday, Nov, 10. I'll be back at work on Wednesday, Nov, 15.

If you have questions, send me a comment. The comments now go to my email account so only I can see them. Give me your contant info - phone, email, etc. - and I will get back to you.

See you all soon!

Abbreviated

2006-10-30T06:10:00.000-08:00

Sorry for this, but there's been a change. My mother and I are driving toward NJ this morning. I'm changing the date of the Freehold/Manasquan ride with friends. Saturday, Nov. 4th.

I hope this doesn't conflict with other plans folks may have made.

A few thoughts:
The whole point of this trip was to ride a bicycle from coast to coast. I'm going to be in a car because of this injury, so there isn't much point in dragging out my journey to NJ. I'll ride my bike to the coast, but the in-between is moot.

I also miss Tracey incredibly. If I were to stay in NJ for another week we would fly past each other in the air, literally. She'll be out of town for an architecture conference and I want to see her before she heads out for that. Waiting until she gets back would put me home in mid-November.

And, I need to get life back. This fundraiser has siphoned me away from life for two months. I need to get back to work before I forget how to do my job.

I'm also beginning to think about the aftermath. I am making myself available to speak to schools, churches, Boy Scout troops, clubs, etc. There's a lot of work to be done to put this whole experience in context and construct a presentation. If you or someone you know would be interested, send me a comment with your email address.

So check back later this week for directions to my house and the beach. Details on where/when.

Thanks for everyone's support. See you soon, either in person or in my heart!
-Andrew

Please Read This

2006-10-28T17:26:00.000-07:00

A person I don't know, or have ever heard of, wrote the following to me in a comment on my last entry. I have since decided to moderate comments so that they all need to come through me before being posted. I chose to put them here so that I could mention a few things with regard to them. Please note that they are mean spirited and maybe a bit startling to some people. I hope you understand why I'm doing this.

Cancer is a man made disease, the phyicisians in the 1700 and 1800 never
reported a single case of Cancer, malignent or binine...It was not till the
inversion of the internal combustion engine did the first few cases of Malignent
tumors, cancer tumers apear in the medicial jornals. It was after the first
atomic testings were performed in the new mexico desert in 1940 did Cancer start
showing up in large quantitys of people.

There are many other cases
of Radialactive fallout that will also increase the affects of geneologicaly
inherited cancers...
Radition mutates right?

There was a Russian
satallite that fell from space with a soccor ball size of radialactive plutonium
aboard, burnt up in reentry and spred radiation over most of northen Canada and
Russia, the dust traveled world wide.

Polution-preservitives.
Thining of the ozone layer. Led, copper, tin, mercury all found in most ocean
foods.

I have family that have died from cancer, and I would just
like to state that we have made little to no headway in cancer...they say we
have, but if that was true they would be asking for money all the time. Cancer
is still killing people, there is still no cure, and no cure in sight. Since
Terry Fox ran aross Canada in the late 80's for cancer, we still have no cure
for the bone cancer terry died from, nore breast, ovarian, testicular, lung,
brain, or any of the other major organs, they will tell you that their trements
have improved, but its only marginal in reality...

What makes you
think YOUR efforts are going to make a difference? Terry fox's efforts did
nothing. Jim henderson who also did a poorme-othon, his efforts did what for us?
The cure for cancer is easy!!! return the planet back to its origanal
state...thats it. No more cars, or burning of fuels, andthing that was made
after say oh 1600 we just dont use.. no plastic or modern dyes. For christ sake
every day you wake up and eat you Special K... or any other cereal, your eating
Herpys and aids medication...next to cancer drugs are they not the most powerful
drugs on the market?? So while your fighting for cancer, your body is trying to
deal with the packaging cemical from kellogs, which mind you was first created
to treat herpys and aids...not preserve you cereal....

Good luck,
this time next year, your efforts will of proven fruitless...for everyone person
that you get to care, there are 10 that could care less...

________________________________
I'm glad this was written; someone had to point out some of these things. It's unfortunate there isn't more tact in the world, but then this is the internet and these comments were sent via a faceless, sterile computer not much different than the one you're reading this with. You don't even have to know how to spell to use it.

Some of the facts mentioned might be valid, but my blog isn't a discussion about cancer itself. That said, it does give me a good opportunity to touch on some things.

I gave a ton of thought to the fact that cancer can't be cured by any individual effort. I thought about the fact that the American Cancer Society is a HUGE nonprofit with millions of dollars in their budget; did I want to support that? I researched the Society, even attended a conference they held with some of their researchers working on DNA. Few nonprofits are able to get 100% of their donations to their cause, but the ACS is as good a place to put your filantrophy as any. And they have a great name and network to back them. They have a website I could use to orchestrate my fundriasing while I'm on the road.

My biggest disquietude while planning this fundraiser was the fact that there will be few true 'cures' for cancer. I worked for the Environmental Protection Agency for almost three years. My main assignment was reducing emissions from diesel engines. Diesel emissions have been found to carcinogenic. Does anyone in the world fool themselves to think that we'll see diesel engines go away in our lifetime? Does anyone in the world fool themselves to think that preservatives in food will go away? That we'll stop using fertilizer and pesticide on our crops? Dyes in our clothes? Of course not. These things will be around messing with our physiology for centuries, maybe causing cancer or other serious diseases. But we enjoy them - they make our lives run, they are the backbone of our modern society.

The rantings of the person who wrote that comment are those of a person who is out of touch with the reality of the world in which in we need to feed over 6 million people. I don't like eating preservatives. I don't like excessive packaging. I don't even like fluorescent lights. But I have to eat, I have to be a productive member of my society - in whatever capacity I define that.

It has occurred to me that I could choose to find a place in the world where the air quality is pristine and the growing season is 10 months long. I could establish a farm, buy some organic cows and chickens, organic seeds and live there. Total isolation from the world going on around me, bliss. I could choose to let the world have its pollution, it's packaging and fluorescent lights. My little clean, disease and cancer free world to myself.

Then one day I'd get cancer. What would I do? Sit and let the disease take me over and kill me slowly? I would be somewhere dying wondering if I should have done a fundraiser when I was younger.

Or maybe some day I'd have kids, because I'm destined to be a dad someday.

Do you think for even a second that my kid(s) would choose to live on that farm for the rest of their lives too? Do you think it's fair that I keep my kids on that farm to keep them away from the rest of the world and cancer and other diseases and famines and cars? Should I keep them in the shade their whole lives to avoid melanoma? When/if they get cancer, I would be wondering if I should have done a fundraiser when I was younger.

Yes, I agree cancer is exacerbated by pollution and other human conventions. No, I don't think my efforts will single-handedly cure cancer. But I am a productive member of the society which I have made a conscious decision to be a part of. I'm expanding minds in a positive way along the way. This fundraiser is only one small thing I'm doing as a weak mortal who might die of cancer one day myself.

I chose to use the internet to share my experiences with people all over the country, most of whom I have never met. Shame on me for not moderating the comments. Shame on the world for fostering negativity that has to erupt and spill out of a person, scalding all in their presence.

Please be aware that my ride has not been a poor-me effort or anything unrealistic in terms of curing cancer. I'm just dealing with death and dying and a pervasive disease that is overwhelming on a personal scale. I'm sorry I didn't make that more clear to those of you have maybe only read my blog one time or so.

-Andrew

A Slow Road

2006-10-27T09:40:00.001-07:00

Still at my brother's house in Mc Henry, IL. The other day while he and his girlfriend Kristen were at work I raked the leaves. I haven't raked leaves in a few years because we don't have many in Oregon. It was nice to be in the yard with the sun reflecting off the lake. Yard work is one of my favorite things - time to think and be outside.

Raking leaves also leaves one with a great sense of accomplishment. It's beautiful to see the groomed green autumn grass with its combed blades all stretching in one neat direction. The piles of leaves marking progress. Balance between the obsession of getting every leaf and being content with leaving a few in the wet hollows of deep grass.

Tuesday I went for a bike ride. I intended to go 40 miles but at mile 10 I was feeling the Achilles. I turned around and put in a total of 20 over an hour and a half. I iced it three times that evening.

Wednesday I watched a movie in the morning and raked leaves for four hours in the afternoon. I don't usually associate raking with pain other than thumb blisters. However, I realized afterward that my Achilles was pretty sore. More icing and Ibuprofen.

Thursday I helped my brother with some things around the house, taking it easy. Last night the Achilles was still swollen with twinges of pain when I extend the toe all the way.

My mother drove from New Jersey on Wednesday. We've been cooking, laughing and playing with my nephew. We're heading out on Monday, October 30th. Realism is having a hand in the plan from here to Jersey. My route and strategy are as follows:

Monday - Weather permitting, drive down to Rantoul, IL. I'll ride the 20-30 miles into Indiana. We'll find a place to camp and see how my Achilles feels. If it's not too sore, I'll keep riding through Indiana into Ohio.

If the Achilles is sore, we'll drive the two-lane local roads that I would have ridden if I was healthy. Taking our time, stopping in the small towns to talk to people and take photos. This will allow me to continue spreading word of my fundraiser while at the same time experiencing small town America. I've learned that this country is so much more than Interstate rest areas - I can hardly imagine taking the faceless, sterile Interstates to New Jersey after what I've been through already.

I'll use this strategy to get to Freehold, New Jersey; where my parents live. At the very least I intent to ride through the borders - Illinois:Indiana, Indiana:Ohio, Ohio:West Virginia:Pennsylvania, Pennsylvania:New Jersey. The borders had been special places while I was out there on my own. I don't want to pass up those opportunities.

As for the route, I'll start in Rantoul, IL on Hwy 136. East through Indiana on Hwy 28, into Ohio at Union City. Lots of back roads through Ohio; here's a few town names to get you on the right track - (west to east) Piqua, Urbana, Sunbury, Coshocton, Steubenville. West Virginia near Follansbee.

Pennsylvania: Basically south of Pittsburgh (this is a major departure from my previous route because of the snow east of Lake Erie) McKeesport, Greensburg, Johnstown, Orbisonia, New Bloomfield, Lebanon, south of Reading, Doylestown.

Into New Jersey at Washington Crossing. North of Trenton, through Princeton, Englishtown to Freehold!

I plan to be in Freehold on Friday, November 10. On Saturday, November 11th, I'll ride to Allaire State Park than take the bike path to Manasquan. You are all welcome to join me on the ride or meet us at the beach. Mark it on your calendar! The end point of the ride will be at the Manasquan River inlet. I'll ride the bike onto the beach and spread my grandmother's ashes, I'll also pour my bottle of Pacific Ocean water into the Atlantic. We'll have a party at Leggetts afterward.

The last segment is my point of focus. Yes, the journey to New Jersey is important, but getting to ride with my friends and family from Freehold to Manasquan is paramount. Being there on the beach is a fantasy that has driven me forward through the pain, frustration and loneliness. The image was etched on the undersides of my eyelids; as I closed my eyes smiling in the sun in Wyoming I saw us all there together. Many of you have told me how important it will be for you as well.

So, I'll be healthy when I show up in Freehold, I promise everyone that. I won't push myself to ride a ton along the way. I want to save my Achilles for that last defining leg. As November 11th gets closer I'll post directions and details.

Thanks for all the well wishes, comments and poems. By the way, donations have surged in the past week and we're now at 60% - $15,100. I don't know where it will come from, but $10,000 more and I'll have raised $25,000. Every dollar counts. Every person I meet counts.

See you all soon,
Andrew!

Lake of Healing and The Road Home

2006-10-27T09:40:00.000-07:00

This is Not a Tear

2006-10-21T06:24:00.000-07:00

Doc says my Achilles isn't torn. MRI shows inflammation in both the tendon and the bursa that cushions it from the bone. Diagnosis; Achilles tendonitis and bursitis of the retrocalcaneal bursa. This is the bursa (small fluid-filled sack) that cushions the tendon where it runs over the calcaneus (the bone that forms the heel of the foot).

600 mg of Ibuprofen three times a day, ice three times a day. A bunch of rest to let the initial onset settle down.

Knowing it wasn't torn was all I needed. I went for an 11 mile ride at an easy pace over an hour's time yesterday. There's a great park (M0rraine Hills) about a mile from Matt's house; rolling hills and no traffic. I taped the Achilles from the ball of my foot, down to the heel and up to mid-calf. It relieved most of the pressure. During the ride I only felt pain a few times - mild. Don't worry; I wasn't pushing myself at all, just easy spinning. Trying to keep my heart rate up.

I'm leaving Illinois next week. My mom is driving out from New Jersey and will take the weight. She'll be my road support for a few weeks. All I have to do is ride the bike for the miles it takes to get to Jersey. I think I'll zoom without the 60 lbs of gear holding me back.

I'm relaxing at my brother's house. I've been playing with my nephew, Matty all weekend. We carved pumpkins and played with hot wheels. I taught him a little about balance on his bike...made him close his eyes as I rocked the bike back and forth so he could feel his weight shifting on instinct.

I'm getting antsy. Ready to exercise. My legs are tense with expectation. Ready to power me forward. Below is the story of eight days of riding from Colorado to Iowa. ___________________________________________________________

Monday 10/9 It had been cold and rainy for two days in Fort Collins. I knew I wouldn't last with the clothes I had so I went over to a bike shop and bought a pair of wind block/water resistant fleece pants. On my ride to the shop I found another broken spoke. Replaced it and trued the wheel at the shop.

I left Amy and Mike's house at 1pm. I got to the edge of town and my gloves were soaked. Wind was blasting the cold water right to my finger bones, they had gone numb. I saw a hardware store and bought a pair of big green rubber gloves to fit over my own gloves.

There was a 10mph headwind and the rain was coming in a dense mist with occasional shots of big drops. The temperature was 38 degrees.

My hands kept going numb regardless of the gloves. My jacket was no better than a sweatshirt; the rain came right through and soaked my chest and arms. Before I left, I duct taped a clear plastic bag over the helmet. At least my head was dry. I found it extremely tiring to ride with rain pants but the conditions called for them. They actually worked pretty well and my legs were only damp with perspiration.

I made it Ault (the sign reads 'A Unique Little Town'). The pizza shop let me put my arms in their oven to warm up and dry some. My face was bright red. I was happy I hadn't shaved my beard since starting the trip; it was good insulation.

The cold, soaking, driving rain. The exhausting swooshes of the rain pants as I pedaled. My new water bladder was leaking air between the mouthpiece and the hose, making it a huge effort to suck in a mouthful of water. Malfunctioning gear, brutal conditions; on top of this I had a sense that I was starting all over. I was completely out of the psychological and physiological rhythm of endless cycling. I thought of giving up a hundred times this day. Thoughts of sunny autumn days and getting to Nebraska kept my chin up.

The map showed the town of Briggsburg to be another 20 miles, I headed out. I made it another 15 miles or so and called Amy and Mike. "Um, I'm completely frozen and soaking wet." "Do you think you can find a place to stay tonight?" "I'm really not sure, but I don't think so. I'm nervous I won't make it to town before it gets dark." "OK, we'll come get you."

Right after I hung up, it dawned on me that they'd have to drive here AND back. They were about 45 minutes away. In the morning I'd be right where I started that morning. I tried calling back to say that it wasn't necessary but the phone didn't have reception anymore. So frustrating.

I rode into the rain for 30 minutes then turned around and rode back west. We found each other soon enough. Mike helped me toss the bike into his truck. As I struggled I realized how out of it I had become. Getting my gloves off was difficult. It wasn't the numbness so much as the confusion. I jumped in the cab and saw how white they were. The pain of warming up was similar to that of ice climbing - millions of needles poking and wiggling as heat melts the frozen nerves.

I was pretty close to hypothermia but had no idea while I was riding. I'm really glad they came to pick me up. I would have had to knock on every door in Briggsburg to find someone who would let me in. There was no way I could have camped that night; the second I started taking things out of the bags everything would have gotten soaked. My slow brain would have spent way too long setting up the tent. The interior would have gotten soaked also. In my state I needed dryness and warmth to combat the budding hypothermia.

Back in Fort Collins we stopped at a hardware store and I bought a can of waterproof spray. Amy and Mike made tempeh burgers and I also inhaled a bowl of ramen. We threw my clothes in the dryer and I sprayed the jacket with the waterproofer. I inspected the cargo and found most of the stuff in the bags damp, including my down sleeping bag. I repacked everything in plastic in preparation for the next day's battle. I passed out at 8 o'clock.
Daily - 35 miles, 11.2 mph, Wet and frozen.

Tuesday 10/10 Amy drove me out to where they picked me up the night before. So cool not to have to re-ride the 35 miles in to the wet headwind. Weather was much the same as the day before but not as cold.

Within an hour the rain had slowed to a light mist. I got a flat and stopped in the lee of a tree to fix it. I found a small wire in the tire and pulled it out with pliers. In the rain, I was riding right over all the debris in the shoulder because I didn't want to swerve into the lane. I also couldn't see the stuff because my glasses were coated with water. Trucks and cars threw spray at me as they blasted by doing 65 mph.

Briggsburg was a small community of maybe 45 people. Only a few houses, no stores. I surely would have been in bad shape the night before; knocking on doors, getting colder in the dark. Few options, begging to be let in.

I rode on through for hours and hours and by 4:30 I was in Sterling, CO. I got information at the tourist center, just off the interstate. After telling them about the fundraiser, they gave me written permission to camp in the rest area for the night. The sun was slicing through a gap in the clouds to the west. I had a nice evening getting back into the swing of camping after a long day of riding and what felt like an eternity of time off.

I bought a tube of bathroom caulk at a local hardware store in Sterling. I used this to seal up the zipper that runs down the side of the rear panniers. I think that's where much of the water had entered and gotten my sleeping bag wet.
Daily - 76.5 miles, 13.6 avg.

Wednesday, 10/11 It was surprisingly warm all night, despite a forecast of sub-freezing temps. I think the diesel engines of the idling trucks in the rest area must have taken the chill out of the air. Bad for air quality but great for taking the edge off the night air.

Rolling hills for a few miles and then onto the flat plains. I had dropped about 1200 feet from the elevation of Fort Collins. Steady wind out of the northwest, helped me cruise along.

I began to see grain elevators in the distance and soon realized that in order to make a town, you have to have a grain elevator. Without a grain elevator there is no town. Psychologically, it was a relief - I could see the next town ten miles ahead, the top of the grain elevator sticking up above the corn and the rolling hills. The day turned into seven to ten mile segments. I'd see it was 21 miles to the end of the day and mentally, "OK, just a few more sevens and I'm there." Three seven's is easier than one 21.

I crossed into Nebraska at the town of Venango, NE. Two nines and I was in Grant. In the supermarket I asked about staying in the fairgrounds. Standing right behind me was the Mayor, Billy Wilson. He told me to go right ahead.

As I was simmering my dirty pot to steam the scraps off the sides, Billy came driving up to check on me. He had unlocked the bathroom at the lumber yard a block away. There was heat and running water in case I woke up freezing in the middle of the night. I was very grateful for his support.
Daily - 86.8 miles, 13.5 avg. Nebraska!!!!

Thursday, 10/12
Chilly but not freezing in the morning. Minor snow flurries the night before but I was under the livestock pavilion and was warm and dry in my tent.

Flat riding for a few hours and then into the ravines and canyons of Medicine Creek. I thought Nebraska was all flat! As frustrating as it was, the terrain was beautiful. I was shocked to see the vertical mud sides of the shallow ravines. The trees were all starting to turn greenish yellow and some were already orange. The sun was shining and I was riding through the idyllic fall day that had lured me forward when the cold rain battered me two days earlier.

I passed through another time zone! From Mountain to Central Time and lost another hour. I saw no sign to marking the longitude and didn't realize it for a few hours. I guess the State only marks time zone changes on the interstate roads.

Hwy 23 is certainly a local road; only two lanes and there is no shoulder in most places. I passed through Grainton, which shows up on maps but is considered an 'unincorporated' town. An unincorporated town is one which has no central government and therefore no municipal taxes. Very intriguing.

All the little towns along the way were just that. Small towns with populations ranging from a few dozen to several hundred citizens. I eventually made it to Franam and was told I could camp in the city park. It was next to the combined elementary/high school. Since there are only a few dozen kids in the community, the school is shut down and the kids get bussed to Eustis. No buses or jubilant kids in the morning to roust me early. Sweet.

I met a guy who had recently moved to Farnam from Cape Cod, Massachusetts. His mother-in-law was sick, so I think he and his wife were living with other relatives in town. He had his dog and his camper and was hoping to last through the cold until Thanksgiving before RV'ing south for the winter.

No rain or snow, not too cold. I had ripped my left glove during the day and spoke to Joe Ferdinando about it. He was really eager to help me with gear, so we arranged to have a pair FedEx'ed to the town of my next food drop, Dorchester.
Daily - 93.75 miles, 15.4 mph avg. Longest day! New time zone! Ripped glove.

Friday, 10/13
I woke and started packing. While stuffing my sleeping bag, a man approached with a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs. Cliff Transmeier is the local pastor. He saw me just getting up while on his morning walk. He thought I would appreciate some eggs and coffee. Most interesting, he scrambled some eggs with cheese and put 'em on toast lathered in mayonnaise. Weird combination but it was REALLY good. Try it!

The ravines and easy rolling hills soon opened onto the plains. I was flying with a tailwind. I felt strong despite three big days of riding so far. I also needed to make it to Dorchester by Saturday so I needed one more BIG day this day.

I stopped at about noon in the wind eddy of a low ewe bush. I laid out my pad and dozed for a half hour in the sunny fall afternoon. I live for windy, sunny autumn days. They bring back so many memories from childhood. All my best memories of backpacking and rock climbing are tied to the musty smell of decaying leaves and the rustle of wind through colorful trees. A good respite.

Into Holdrege after 52 miles. I talked with a mentally disabled man outside the supermarket. He wanted to know all about my bike. Kept saying, "I'm gonna do this maybe next summer or the one after." I told him I was headed to Hastings. "There's a college there. I'm gonna go to college there next year, maybe next." It's strange, but after hours of riding endless miles with no one to talk to, a mentally disabled guy was the easiest person to talk to. I felt I could communicate at his lethargic mental speed. I also felt no pretense, no need to say anything more than answer his simple questions. My answers didn't matter much either. He was going to agree with everything I said and think it was cool. I could have told him I was an astronaut when I'm not riding a bike cross country and he would have told me he contacted NASA one time. But I was honest and straightforward since that what he deserved.

Eventually I made it to Hastings. 104 miles!

I went into a restaurant I thought would have great burgers. Maybe they did, but the blaring heavy metal and the hard stares from the good old boys made me rethink. Way too much noise and angst so I apologized to the waitress and walked over to the Mexican restaurant next door. I looked wasted and I was. I was so tired I could only sit and eat slowly.

I saw a fairgrounds on the edge of town and called the police dispatch to ask about it. They said it was OK, so I rode over. The parking lot was full of RV's and campers. One guy was staggering around drunk and said hello. I asked if there was going to be a rodeo or something. "Nope, pool tournament tomorrow here." That explained both the campers and his intoxication.

I found a livestock pavilion, opened the cattle gate, let myself in and closed it behind me. I was asleep in almost no time. It was the first time I felt as if the sleeping pad wasn't thick enough. My legs
Daily - 104 miles, 15.7 mph avg. Century ride!

Saturday, 10/14
One more sprint day. I indulged in Burger King for breakfast - three big sandwiches, coffee and whatever ice tea stuff they had in the soda machine. I called the Post Office in Dorchester to see how late they are open. "I close up at 9:15 this morning." I looked at my watch, it was 9:10. "You mean you close in five minutes?" "Yes, why?" I told her about my package and she confirmed that it was there. She had read Tracey's cheers scrawled all over the boxes and knew I was riding for a fundraiser. "Take my home phone number and call me when you get into town. I'll come down and open up to give you your boxes." THANK YOU.

To be honest, the section of Hwy 6 between Hastings and Dorchester was a blur. My butt was impossibly sore and my shoulders were screaming. All I did this day was ride, stretch and eat. I'd ride an hour and then stop, stretch and eat again. Same thing with the grain elevators; every seven to ten miles. I did pass an ethanol refinery where corn is turned into the gasoline additive, ethanol. All the gasoline in the Midwest is blended with ethanol for various automotive engineering and environmental reasons. Unfortunately, camping stoves don't like ethanol. Sputter, sputter even though it was a brand new stove.

Hours later I rode into Dorchester. I went into the grocery store that was supposed to have received the FedEx'ed gloves from Joe Ferdinando. FedEx hadn't arrived and it was too late to expect a package. I called Jennifer from the Post Office and she was there in minutes, handing over the 20 pounds of food boxes.

I was told I could camp in the city park. As I spread the contents of my remaining food and the new food delivery on the picnic table, I found myself entertaining company. Ten year-old Alex and his friends live in the park when they aren't at home or at school. I wasn't sure what to expect of my visitors, but after a few minutes their honesty and sincerity became apparent.

"You must be rich!" when they saw all my camping gear, and "Wow, you have everything you need!" "What's this little computer thing do?"

"You can cook right here!"

One kid in particular had excellent geography skills. "Yeah, Washington is above Oregon and Idaho is east, then Wyoming. Colorado is below Wyoming. We're right next to Colorado and Wyoming too. Are you going into Iowa next?" (map of western US)

They showed me the back door into the bar to use the bathroom. It seemed half the town was in the bar watching the Nebraska vs. Kansas State football game. (Nebraska slammed 'em). They also told me where the light switch was in case I wanted to turn off the park lights before I fell asleep.

Alex's older brother came by and eventually told him they needed to go home. "No, this guy needs company. I'm sad because he doesn't have anyone to hang out with." It was really nice to have a few little friends for the evening.
Daily - 70.5 miles, 13.5 mph avg. Food box!

Sunday, 10/15
It rained overnight and I pulled up the stakes of the tent and slept in the open, but under the picnic pavilion. I didn't want to have to haul a wet tent along with the 20 pounds of fresh food.

As I was taking pictures of my camp spot, Alex rode up on his bicycle. "Hey, what are you taking pictures of?" He snapped a shot of me and I took this one of him. He rode with me out of town to the highway.

I rode into Crete. It is a nice town, similar to my hometown of Freehold, NJ. Old downtown area, a Nestle/Purina plant on the edge of town. Everyone was very nice, courteous drivers even. When I had asked Alex about Crete he said, "Oh watch out for your bike. Crete is just a bunch of Mexicans and black people shootin' 'em." Makes me wonder if he got that from the news or somewhere else.

There was some light rain about noon. The day before I had been brash enough to take the plastic bag off my helmet. So I stopped in a cemetery east of Roca under some evergreens and taped a new bag on. I also used some of the waterproof spray on my jacket and the panniers. As soon as I left the cemetery the rain stopped of course.

I took some narrow county roads east out of Roca then Hwy 43 north through Bennet. The whole area was rolling but wide open. It reminded me very much of the Brandywine country in southeastern Pennsylvania where my aunt, uncle and cousin, Linda, Barry and Gretchin, live. It was beautiful but exasperating because of the mist, light headwinds and endless hills.

East on Hwy 2, which was essentially an interstate. Four lanes, divided, big shoulder, lots of trucks and traffic spraying the road water on me. I passed the 2000 mile mark at the entrance to Hwy 2.

Evening found me in Nebraska City. No one in this town was friendly to me except for one store clerk. She pointed me to a State park along the Missouri River where I could camp and get a shower. I found the camp as dark was setting in. There were two trailers that looked like they had no regard for the 14-day camping limit. The owners of one camper drove up and I waved and hollered hello. They just stared at me and hustled into their trailer like I was an escaped convict wielding a shotgun.

Throughout the evening and night loud, lifted pickups growled into the campsite and flashed lights at me. They would drive down toward the river, look at the water for a minute and then growl back past me out of the area. I slept with my knife and big bamboo flute in the sleeping bag.
Daily - 77.75 miles, 12.5 mph avg. Passed 2000 miles!

Monday, 10/16 - TRACEY's BIRTHDAY!!!!!
I rode out of the campground and my right Achilles was immediately painful. I slowly pedaled out of Nebraska and into Iowa. Thick dark mist. The shoulders turned to gravel in Iowa. Two lanes, the white fog line right on the edge of the uneven pavement. No room for me to ride really.

I made it 50 miles into the town of Clarinda where I stayed in a hotel room. My gear was soaked. My clothes were damp with the sweat and oil of eight days of riding. I'm not sure what I was running on but it wasn't much.

I was pushing my body and mind. Asking for spiritual help. Calling friends, seeking comfort. I had gone 600 miles in eight days. I was sprinting to my brother's house, my next oasis in the sea of the Midwest.
I'll ask myself for a long time whether the pain was really that bad or if I just needed to pull the plug to keep from going crazy. Yes, I have an injury, but severity is the key for me. "Was it really that bad?" As days go by and the memories of the pain recede I will ask this more and more.

The Irony of Achilles

2006-10-18T11:02:00.000-07:00

I'm in Fox Lake, Illinois at my brother's house. First time I've had the chance to personally update you all.

I arrived here from Fort Collins via various modes of transportation. About half the miles were on my bike, the other half were on my butt. I have some problem with my right Achilles tendon. It's swollen, tender and feels as though it's squeaking when I extend my foot and bring it back again. I have an appointment with a sports medicine doc tomorrow, with the assurance that if I need an MRI they can fit that in tomorrow as well.

Monday night I rolled into Clarinda, Iowa. The fog was condensing and the gray soup in the air grew darker. I found a motel on the edge of town. My gear came out of the panniers, then out of the plastic bags and soon the motel room was littered with the debris of a fully loaded cycling odyssey. The window unit inflated the cramped room with hot air and I cracked the window to let out the smell and dampness of drying gear.

A lonely motel room in a small town. My phone, my friend, my link. Slurping hastily made mac n' cheese I called my Grandfather in New Jersey to chat. Customary pleasantries followed by a quick synopsis. I'm here, the weather is crap, and yes I think the hotel clerk will return my clothes after he washes them.

Down to brass tacks. "My ankle is bothering me, it's the strangest thing. It hurts a little to ride up hills but I'm icing it and it should be fine." I think he must have heard something I wasn't saying. Maybe the words I used, the cadence of my speech, the tone at the end of the sentences... He heard me say, "My ankle hurts like hell and I can't walk or ride the bike very well, but I'm gonna keep riding to New Jersey no matter how bad it hurts or how bad the weather gets." His wisdom must have deduced that I was going to ride my bike until my legs fell off or I froze out there.

"You know Andy, nobody in the world has more respect for you than I do. I have to let you know that I would have even more respect if you stopped riding because you're in danger. You have a long life to live and you wouldn't want to injure yourself over this. You've come a long way already."

At face value you could misconstrue this as an encouragement to give up. Don't be fooled. He was saying the unspoken that many of you have wanted to say but can't, don't or won't say for a million reasons. "We want to see you get to New Jersey, but we don't want to see you sacrifice yourself in the process."

I went to bed after talking to Tracey on her birthday. I iced my ankle all night and lathered on topical ibuprophen/lidocaine. I woke up and it hadn't changed. Oh well, gotta keep going.

Within five miles I realized I was grinding my jaw. Within ten miles I realized I couldn't ride up hills. It began to really hurt then; like a knife sawing at the back of my ankle every time I powered with my right leg. Everything became strange for a while, I had a slight tailwind but couldn't go more than 10 mph. I stopped and got off with a queasy sensation. Not from physical pain but from the realization that I had to pull the plug. I was ten miles east of Clarinda and ten miles west of Bedford. I decided to head east and pull the plug in Bedford.

I tried to call out but I had no cell coverage. Without the link I had to deal with this alone. I grew alot in those few hours. I thought, "I might be pulling the plug but there was no way I'm going to walk my bike." Bullheadedness piercing the hull of reason.

There was no way to get out of Bedford by the usual modes. Even AAA turned me down because they only tow 'motor vehicles.' I can't blame them but I do. Two options; hitchhike east or hitchhike west. East made the most sense.

The second pickup stopped when I thumbed him. He was the Taylor Country Game Warden. He called police dispatch and within minutes a local cop was running my license and arranging for a Sheriff to give me a lift to the county line. Bags off, wheels off, bike in the trunk and away we went.

We got to the county line and he let me use his phone to get details on buses and trains in the area. He got on the radio and called for the Sheriff of the next county to come ferry me further east. I sat at the intersection of Hwy 2 and 25 on the Taylor and Ringgold County line for over two hours. I was about to start hitchhiking again when a farmer came by and offer me to use his phone, mine had no reception all day. Dispatch told me to hang tight. I sat for another hour and a half.

The Ringgold County Chief Deputy picked me up at 5:15. He drove me to the Decatur County line where we met another sheriff. He drove me to Lamoni and dropped me at the Livestock Auction where a bus drops off and picks up. There were no signs to indicate this was a stop, it was a mysterious depot spot.

At 10:30 the bus came right on time and I put the bike and bags underneath. A few stops and an hour later we were in Des Moines. I paid fare and freight for the bike to Chicago. The bus left at midnight. We stopped in Iowa City for a half hour then on to Chicago.

The bus was full of Hispanics, Asians and a few elderly women. Everyone on the bus was well dressed and groomed. Then there was Drew; worn out clothes and scraggly beard. If there was a suspicious character on the bus it was certainly me.

We arrived in downtown Chicago at 6:45 this morning. I slept maybe two hours last night. I was the third person off the bus and my bike was already pulled out, tossed on its side and my bags tossed on top of it. Furious, I took three big steps and pushed the baggage handler away from the bike as he was yanking on a bag that was stuck between the chain and the gears. "You're messing my bike up!" He didn't care, he went back to heaving bags onto the asphalt.

The bike seemed OK aside from a broken rear fender. I cooled off and went inside. Information told me where to catch the Metra. I rode the bike a few blocks to the station, bought a ticket, found eggs and toast and waited. I left Chicago at 9am.

Matt picked me up at 10am at the station near his office. After a great big hug at his office he handed me the keys and a few hours later I'm here writing this. I'll go pick him up at 5pm.

Since I've been sitting here writing, my ankle has stiffened up. It squeaks now every time I move my foot up and down.

Achilles in Greek mythology was a great warrior. Arrows and spears bounced off his chest in battle. As a baby, his immortal mother took him by the ankle and dipped him in either fire or water to make him immortal as well. The only part that wasn't dipped was his ankle and it was his only weak spot. He was eventually killed when an arrow pierced his ankle. This is not a comparison, just a bit of lure that I thought I would refresh you on because I was interested myself.

I'll write the complete story from Fort Collins to Clarinda either tonight or tomorrow. I'll let you know what the doctor thinks also.

-Drew

Andrew's Update

2006-10-16T09:05:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

My name is Chris Schauffele, one on Andrews’s good friends. I spoke with him this morning and he asked me to post an update of his adventure.

Today (10-16-2006) he has arrived in Iowa, after riding through Nebraska at nearly warp speed! While in Nebraska he had achieved his biggest mileage day thus far, riding 104 miles in one day! He has peddled about 550 miles since leaving Fort Collins, CO.

Andrew told me that dampness and sogginess have been plaguing him on this leg of the trip. He left Fort Collins, CO in nearly freezing rain conditions, and since then has experienced bouts of light rain and fog. And when the sun does shine on him he sweats, while he rides. Then come night time, when he lays down to sleep, he sweats in his sleeping bag. It sounds like a never-ending cycle (bad pun).

All in all I think he is really enjoying himself. Discovering what he is really made of while enduring hardships on the road, and realizing through everyone’s comments, emails, and support the amount of awareness he has generated for his cause.

Ride on Andrew!

Andrew as Geography Teacher

2006-10-12T16:59:00.001-07:00

Hi All,
Andrew asked me to tell you how we're using his blog in his old hometown of Freehold, NJ. As a school librarian who is also teaching a computer class, I thought Andrew's travels would make a great geography/technology project. So - my 7th graders are following his route on their individual state maps as well as outlining it on a large wall map that hangs in the computer lab. In addition, they are learning to use Excel by entering his miles and mphs on a spreadsheet. At the end of his journey, they will graph these statistics. An added bonus for our students has been the opportunity to experience some great writing!! We look forward to his safe arrival in NJ and hopefully a visit to our class!! Thanks, Andrew for giving so many "lessons" to all who read your blog. C.G.

Distracted

2006-10-08T09:32:00.000-07:00

I spoke to Pat, Tracey's mom, on Friday. Mentioned that I was staying an extra day. Pushing it back so the total is four days in Denver/Ft. Collins. Her response, "Good. You earned it!"

What a nice thing to say.

I've been worried about taking this time off; feeling self discipline mock me for not being out there. Tracey has encouraged me to take more time to enjoy Colorado and friends. My friends wanted me to hang out as long as I could. Now I'm doing it and a whole other set of people think it's a good idea too. Reassurance. Helps to numb the driven ambition, squash the guilt.

So on Wednesday I sat around on the computer. That took most of the day. Afternoon saw Chris and I at REI. I exchanged all my leaking water bottles and had them look at the stove. They ran it on white gas, which typically burns better than gasoline. Regardless of the cleaner fuel, the stove wasn't top form. The simple answer is there is something wrong with the stove. They exchanged it for a brand new stove and will deal with the manufacturer for me.

Dropped the bike off at the REI bicycle shop as well.

Around town running errands, getting maps at the AAA office. Steaks and potatoes for dinner then up to Boulder to hang with Chris De Houst. Hadn't seen him in a few years, fun to catch up.

We stayed Wednesday night in Boulder and went over to see the Neptune Mountaineering shop in the morning. Lots of cool antique climbing equipment on display right next to the top of the line new stuff. Cool shop.

Outta Boulder. Chris dropped me at REI and I met George Betz, the bike shop manager. He was just putting the rear wheel on after changing the freewheel hub. There was a phantom clicking that couldn't be identified so they replaced the part. It was a simple but uncommon part for a small bike shop to carry. If it developed into a bigger problem along the way my only option would likely have been to get a whole new wheel. Nip that one in the bud and save a few hundred dollars.

I got lost in Denver and eventually found my way back to Chris and Kelli's apartment. I sat over maps laying out a route to the Chicago area (see directions below). Nebraska, Iowa and Illinois have bicycle maps online. The maps show traffic volume and shoulder width. I used these to help steer me onto good biking roads.

I transferred a bunch of music to my MP3 player. I made Thai curry with tofu and fresh veggies for dinner. It was the first time I'd made a curry from scratch and was surprised how well it turned out. So were Chris and Kelli.

Friday morning I went with Chris to the Colorado School of Mine in Golden. He went to class while I poked around the library, printing up the bike maps for Nebraska and Iowa. I also found books on rock hounding and mineral identification.

When he was done with class we went to the hardware store; bought a pick-mattock and a shovel. We drove out to Idaho Springs and drove up a canyon to some old mines. A few hours of scrambling around digging through mine tailing piles. We found some gold flakes adhered to a quartz vein but no crystals or interesting minerals.

We drove to another site and were given permission to root through waste rock piles. There we found pyrite with galena on soft orange mine waste. It was fun to be up in the mountains with my friend, digging through rocks rather than climbing them. Chris and I had been rock and ice climbing together for seven years until I moved to Oregon with Tracey. We needed some time out in the moutains to let the conversations flow at a normal pace.

Back into Denver where we met up with John. He was one of Brian's best friends before he passed away. It was good to see John and talk about Brian. About the memorial service that I missed last June. John lived with Brian off and on for a few years. They shared a 17 foot travel trailer. They lived together in it one winter near Crested Butte. John is one of the few people who have lived with Brian in his bare-bones style. They had no heat all winter long and bathed in the frozen river down the hill from their camp. They framed houses that winter; scrap wood fires to melt the ice between the 2-by-4's and knocking ice off other boards with hammers. Hard.

Chris De Houst also drove down from Boulder to hang out. It was great to be surrounded by them all.

Saturday morning, Chris De Houst and I got caught up on the past few years. He left Rutgers and spent a year in Davis, CA with other friends of ours. Then he spent 9 months in Alaska as a kayak guide and bike mechanic. From there he went to Southern California to teach. Then up to the Wind River Mountains in WY to be a backcountry ranger for a few months. From there to Telluride to ski/board in the mountains. He spent a year in Vermont studying law. Now he's in Boulder studying computer science. De Houst has always been a seeker of knowledge and he's following his path where it takes him. I admire all the places he's been and the things he's done along the way.

After breakfast Chris, Kelli and I headed to Golden. We hiked up North Table Mountain to an old quarry. They used to make curb blocks from the basalt cliffs here. There are a few piles of them in this photo. We hunted around and found zeolite crystals in great abundance. There are pockets and veins of the crystals in the hard basaltic parent rock. The mattocks was no match for the hard rock so we settled on collecting specimens from the loose stones that lay all over the quarry.

Back into Denver. We hauled the bike and bags to Chris' truck and drove up to Ft. Collins. Amy and Mike had a group of musician friends over last night. It was fun to hear the bluegrass; fiddle, banjo, guitar, bass, and mandolin. Amy and Mike both play banjo. Together they are a fun, talented group of musicians.

Amy and I talked for hours by the small fire in the backyard. It was really therapeutic for me to fill her in on what Tracey and I had done for the past year in Eugene. Telling the story of living with my grandparents for six months then moving out and my grandmother dying five months later. It helped me put things in perspective.

I hadn't realized why I was so impacted when my grandmother died. The bonds we built while living with her and my grandfather sank deep roots into my soul. I didn't know my grandparents very well as a kid. I grew up in Jersey and visited them only infrequently. Then Tracey and I were immersed in their world for a half year.

I felt a huge amount of guilt about moving out of their house. They really relished our company and help in keeping the house clean, the gardens tidy. I felt we had abandoned them. Then my grandmother's pancreatic cancer became virulent. She was diagnosed with Type II diabetes. She lost weight rapidly. If we stayed at the house, would the psychological buttress of our presence helped to ward those things off? Slow roasted mental anguish.

In mid-April her oncologist gave her two weeks to live. Her liver was failing. She became jaundiced. Yellowish-green skin covered her body and her cheeks sunk as if she was always sucking a straw. She looked exactly the same as Brian did when I visited him in his state of liver failure right before he died.

Two weeks after the diagnosis I sat with her until one or two in the morning while my aunt and uncle rested in the other bedrooms in the house. I gave her a dose of morphine at the appropriate time. I held the water to her lips and she feebly sucked in. She mumbled something about, "Take mit away." "It's OK grandma, I love you, it will go away." I wasn't sure what she wanted to be taken away, but with cold hands and shallow irregular breathing I knew everything would be taken away soon.

I went home but couldn't sleep. I was back at the house at 8am. She passed away a few minutes later. I was with her all the way out to the hearse.

Two months earlier Tracey and I had flown back to Long Island for her grandmother's funeral. Barbara Lickel died of lung and brain cancer in February. We got back to Eugene and found that our friend and neighbor, Jordan Duke had died in the apartment next to ours. He had been dead in the apartment for three or four days before his parents found his body. A massive heart attack at 22 years old.

Brian, Barbara, Jordan and Grandma. Less than a year.

A couple weeks after Grandma died my friend and mentor, Dan Harrington from work, got word from his oncologist. A couple months left with his cancer. He retired and cashed in his retirement fund.

I became depressed. I thought some pretty dark things for a while. Death. Cancer. Wallowing in Eugene without direction. Few regular climbing partners, few positive outlets. Riding through Wyoming last week I realized that I had been depressed during that time.

This trip is more than a fundraiser. It's more than helping society and memorializing incredible people. I needed this trip to get my own life in order. I needed purpose and direction. The distraction of people and a reason to contact them. Those interactions siphoned off the negatives and softened the experiences of death. Backfilling the space was crucial.

Until now, I hadn't acknowledged that I needed this trip for my own mental health. I don't think I realized how important it was for me to deal with death. Talking with Amy last night by the fire I began to understand. Hearing myself list the chain of events shown a bright light of understanding and for a moment it became clear.

I experienced death on an intense personal scale. I was adrift and this trip gave me the direction and intensity I needed.

Today is dreary the way a grey damp day can be. I'm tired. Four late nights of talking and enjoying the company of others. I'm going to sleep here in Ft. Collins today. I'm going to relax to
the sound of Amy and Mike's banjos in the other room. They're sitting there singing bluegrass songs, laughing and chatting in between while I write this.

You all said I would learn a lot about myself out here. What I didn't expect is that epiphanies come not when I'm alone on the road, but when I digest my thoughts in the company of others. I'm wide open right now. I'm looking forward to reflecting on these days in Colorado when I return to solitude tomorrow morning.

Lots of love,
Andrew

Direction

2006-10-06T07:40:00.000-07:00

A note on fundraising:
I've recieved many donations from people along the way. A number of the folks I've met have followed up with an online donation. Being an effective spokesman is an awesome feeling.

Total funds raised = $13,440.

That's 54% of my $25,000 goal!

I want to reiterate that the funds go directly to the American Cancer Society. None of the money supports expenses for my trip. Local businesses in Eugene donated food and materials to reduce the upfront cost.

If you donate online (here) you will get a confirmation directly from the Cancer Society. A;so, I encourage you to check that site once in a while and see the names of folks who have donated.

For those that wish to follow me on a map, here's my route to Illinois:
East out of Ft. Collins to Sterling, CO. Into Nebraska at Venango on Hwy 23

Nebraska:
East on Hwy 23 to Holdrege. East on Hwy 6 to Dorchester. East on 33 for a bit to local roads then north to Hwy 2 at Bennet. Exit State at Nebraska City.

Iowa:
East on Hwy 2. East on Hwy2. East on Hwy 2. This is not a typo. At Bloomfield pick up J40 into Fort Madison. Exit State at Fort Madison.

Illinois:
Enter the State at Niota. Local roads stair-step to Hwy 116. Hwy 116 east to Farminton, then north on Hwy 78 to Laura, then east on Hwy 90 to Edelstein. North on Hwy 40 to Hwy 17. East on Hwy 17 to Kankanee.

Through Indiana and Ohio I have maps back at home that Tracey will send me.

Pennsylvania:
Hwy 16 east to Scranton then a bunch of random State and local roads to the Delaware Water Gap. Still don't have a clue how I'm going to get across Jersey. If any Jersey bikers have ideas, let me know.

I haven't spoken with my brother about where we're going to meet up. The plan, though, is that he'll drive down to pick me up somewhere along Hwy 17 in Illinois. We'll drive up to his house north of Chicago for a day or two, then he'll drive me back down to the pickup spot. This way there's no break in the continuity.

I can't believe there are 12 comments on the last post - it's only been up 24 hours!

The writing was a little sloppy. If I turn this into a book it will be more fluid when edited.

The Great Divide

2006-10-04T12:02:00.000-07:00

I'm here! Sorry to keep you all waiting. Comments wondering where I am and people asking Tracey to urge me to update. I haven't seen a computer until today so here goes:

I'm in Denver! Through the Rockies and on the edge of the plains. I'm so psyched. Really healthy, great spirits, feeling strong.

I'll be in Denver for a few days getting some rest and hanging with my friends Chris and Kelli. Looking forward to hooking up with other friends in the area while I'm here.

The weather last week was phenomenal. If I had left a week earlier I would have been riding through 10-12 inches of snow. Most of Wyoming was blanketed the week before I rode through. Your prayers are paying off and my good fortune has held strong.

I feel as if this week has been a turning point in this trip. I have become used to the travelling and the constant shuffle. My health is great and I'm excited for the next phase of this trip.

The wind in Wyoming is no joke. Almost everyday it was gusting up to 25 mph with steady 10-15 breezes coming out of the southwest. I followed the Oregon Trail through much of the State and saw some of the landmarks that I've been enchanted by since boyhood.

Met some awesome people too. I only had to cook dinner a few times because people either paid for my meals or asked me to join them in their own dinners.

Chronologically:
9/26, Kemmerer, WY. Rest day and the site of my last update. Lester and Kay Fatheree took me out to dinner in Kimmer and Lester spoke to me about Jesus and fellowship. They're a dedicated couple. Lester's biggest compliments are along the lines of, "Gee, you're not like any other Pastor I've ever met." I had a great time with them. Kay wrote an article on me for their local paper and is sending a copy to Tracey; should be cool to read it when I'm done.

Wednesday, 9/27:
Left Kimmer heading east. Rode through the Western Wyoming oil fields past a huge Exxon refinery. There are miles of new pipeline being installed in the desert out there. Hundreds of trucks hauling 36" pipe and crews scattered in the distance. It's amazing to see an oil field and I now know why it's so imperative to keep our Alaskan wilderness intact. An oil field isn't just a couple holes punched in the ground with pipes running to a collection facility. There are literally hundreds and hundreds of tanks scattered as far as the eye can see spaced 1/4 mile apart. Roads cris-cross the terrain and pumping stations pop up over every hill it seems.

The Exxon refinery produces something like 3/4 of the U.S. hydrogen. It looks the same as one of the refiners you'd see near Newark, NJ along the Turnpike. The big difference is that it is out in the high desert. It looked so out of place amidst the terrain that pioneers once drove wagons through. It's hard to accept when you see it but logically you know it supports our economy and bolsters the happy easy life we live in the U.S. I encourage you to do your own research and make your own judgments on this stuff. In a way, having it out in the high desert isn't such a bad place because the land is a barren place. I hope that doesn't negate the need to be good stewards of the environment.

The biking:
Tail winds most of the time. I saw some Oregon Trail ruts and stopped at all the 'Point(s) of Interest'. Learned about death on the trail. Imagine leaving a dead child or spouse buried in a shallow grave beside a trail, never to be able to visit them as you mourn in the aftermath. You had to keep going or you would surely perish there as well. It's dry and hot in the sun. It must have been brutal on the livestock and the oxen pulling the wagons.

I arrived in Farson, WY at about 4pm and camped in an RV lot. There was an ice cream store that I couldn't resist. After I chowed down I was leaving and grabbed my handlebars. I felt a prink and reached down to pull out a yellow-jacket stinger. I put ice on it later and the swelling went down.

The earplugs were crucial because the truck traffic servicing the oil boom was constant throughout the night. I also discovered that my leaking water bladder had defied my attempts to repair it. The sleeping bag was wet when I got there and I dried it in the windy sunshine. I doped it up with Superglue but it wouldn't hold.
Daily: 75 miles at 15.2 mph avg.

Thursday, 9/28:
I bought a tall, skinny Gatorade bottle that fits in the bottle holder on the bike. From here on I used one water bottle with water and the other with Gatorade. I would stop every other hour and refill the bottles, mixing Gatorade powder into one of them. As I rode I took a swig from each and did pretty well staying hydrated. Still it was a pain not to have that 1/2-gallon bladder.

From Farson I could see the Wind River Mountains. I rode east on Hwy 28 and the mountains slowly got closer as I ascended. One big hill at South Pass and next thing I knew there was a sign for the Continental Divide. 7550 feet! I screamed and yelled, giddy with excitement. Totally not expecting to see that sign at the top of the hill. I really hoped that someone would stop to take a picture of the crazy lunatic with the bike that was dancing around on the side of the road near the sign for the Divide. No one did, so I took one of myself. I was soooooo so happy.

Rolling hills at 7500 feet until I reached the pull-off for South Pass City. Two miles of packed dirt road led me to the historic mining town that was the first place in the country to give women equal voting rights. If you travel this way, be sure to take the time and visit the historic town, it's really cool.

The food box was waiting for me there. I had Tracey send it to South Pass because I thought it made sense to pick up the 20 pounds of food after I had climbed up there, rather than hauling it up myself. Thank you US Postal Service!

I rode over to Atlantic City, which is nothing like the one on the Jersey Shore. This is another old gold mining town. Many people still own claims and gold is still be panned out of the stream. The history is typical boom/bust cycle with iron ore the most recent commodity. Lots of history here as well, so if you head to South Pass ride the extra few miles over to see Atlantic City as well.
Plus the scenery is beautiful. Rolling hills with aspen trees lining the bottoms of the draws and spruce trees dotting the hillsides. It's fall weather up there now, so the aspens were yellow and orange. Potpourri of decaying leaves and evergreens in the cool piercing light of sunset.

I camped at a BLM campground at 8000 feet. The camp host told me the week before there had been 12 inches of snow on the ground.
Daily, 53 miles at 11.8 mph avg. Continental Divide!

Friday, 9/29:
No frost overnight, very happy about that. Wasn't cold at night, even happier. Oatmeal, filled water and was out.

The night at 8000 feet had acclimatized me well and the riding, though hilly wasn't too difficult. I began to feel very strong this day.

Red Canyon appeared on my left as I coasted downhill. It's a beautiful rift of red sandstone similar to what you'd see in Utah. 6% downhill grade I was flying at 48 mph but had to slow down because a big truck was riding his brakes. I could have gone faster and really wanted to but there was no way I was going to pass the truck on a downgrade.

Just shy of Lander I turned right on Hwy 287/789. A big uphill - 6% grade for five miles. Though I felt strong, it really took alot out of me and I rested for a long time at the top. These hills were a reverse of what I wanted; a big climb followed by the reward of a big drop, oh well.

I saw a badger on the side of the road. It came into the shoulder, saw me, flipped around ran back to the sagebrush and turned to glare at me. It was a beautiful animal but definitely had that, "don't mess with me," look.

Luckily, I had a tailwind that helped me for 35 more miles into Jeffery City. This is another boom/bust town. Between '77 and '83 there were as many as 2000 people living here working in the uranium mines. I guess our nuclear power was firmly established and the mines closed down. Now there are probably 20 people eking out a living in the modern ghost town.

In town met Roger and Scott Miller who had been fishing all day. They invited me to camp with them at the abandoned Lion's Club and they fed me all the rainbow trout I could eat with potatoes and beans. We had a nice evening talking in the sand outside their Winnebago. They live in Cheyenne and came up to fish and hunt elk.

Daily, 70.5 miles, 12.8 mph avg, 48 mph top speed!

Saturday, 9/30:
Southwest on Hwy 287. The wind started out of the southwest and I fought across it for most of the morning. Made it to Muddy Gap, "the cleanest bathroom in Wyoming." The owner is a really nice guy, stop and buy a snack if you go through.

Turned northeast on Hwy 220 and got pushed along to Independence Rock. This was a highlight. The rock isn't spectacular in any way except that it was a waypoint to mark time and passage. If they got here by July 4th (Independence Day) they knew they were on track to get to Oregon before the snows. There are tons of names etched into the rock but erosion and vandalism have removed most of the names prior to 1920. I hiked to the top and sat for a while soaking up the sun and the wind.

Another 20 miles and a swift downhill into Alcova, WY. It was a Saturday evening and the campsite was teaming with fishermen. I met some really nice people and hung out with Matt, Andrew and Brian from Boulder, CO.

Daily, 79 miles, 14.2 mph avg.

Sunday, October 1:
Oatmeal and packed up, on the road a little late at 8:30. I turned right on Hwy 487. The southwest wind was fierce this first day of October. I stopped every 10 miles to rest and eat. One big uphill but the road had taken an easterly turn and the wind was at my back for a short time, helping.

I rode into the Shirley Basin heading south. This was the hardest part of the trip through Wyoming. The wind was coming into my face at 20 mph with monstrous gusts. It didn't take long to personify it into a living thing that was purposefully tormenting me. I bared my teeth into it. I hunched down away from it when it struck in a blast. I even screamed into it in frustration. It was eroding my psyche. I stopped for a long while and talked to myself. "You can't control this. Just get on and take your time, any progress is still progress." Tunes would help so I changed disks and turned up the volume to full. Pearl Jam and Pink Floyd with Crosby and Stills thrown in.

The wind was sucking the water out of me and I had 30 miles to go before I hit a town. A truck pulling a boat stopped and it happened to be Jeff from Fort Collins, who I'd met at the campsite in Alcova. He hooked me up with enough water to get me through and encouraged me that the wind would settle down as evening set in.

I pounded water and struck out in a fast spin. The wind didn't die much but I was energized to push through. Every time I needed to stop I would look at the odometer and ride until it came to an even mile number...pushing myself to get one more tenth in for that burn.

The clouds had set in but the sun was slicing through from the west and the landscape was on fire. One short downhill coast at mile 75 with only 8 miles to get to town. This picture was taken at about mile 78 or so, the light was perfect.

I rolled into Medicine Bow with my jaw hanging slack thinking of nothing but cheeseburgers and fries and baked potatoes with gravy and sour cream and pie and chocolate milk. I hit Hwy 287 and turned left to the Virginian Hotel. I staggered in and must have look trashed. It was 7 o'clock at night and dark had started to close in outside.

The cook for the evening, Valerie Cowen was so impressed by my effort that she paid for my dinner - double bacon cheeseburger dripping with ketchup and mayo, three rounds at the salad bar, two glasses of chocolate milk and a baked potato smothered in gravy and sour cream. Fat and happy, coma setting in.

The rooms at the Virginian were only $27 and I really couldn't think of heading out into the cold wind to set up camp on the edge of town. I paid, took a long hot bath and slept like a rock.

Daily, 83.5 miles 11.1 mph avg.

Monday, 10/2:
I slept in. Got up late, ate pancakes, eggs, toast, sausages and coffee. I got a chance to look around the Virginian Hotel. It was built in 1910 and is the kind of place you expect to see Wild Bill Hickok slammin' shots of rye whisky. It conjures thoughts of six shooters tied low and the jingle of spurs, the clomp of cowboy boots. The bathrooms have only old bathtubs and they are located along the hallway, not in the rooms themselves.

I lugged the bike down the stairs wearing my spandex and must have been a sight for the other lodgers. I hit the road at 10 am.

It was an unremarkable day for the most part. Though I did stop in Rock River and overheard the war stories of the first day of elk season. The day before, dudes were driving around with rifles on the seats of their pickups while I was snarling at a wind that didn't know me from a fence post. It was good hunt.

I came into Laramie, Wyoming around 4 pm. Traffic again. I hadn't seen a stop light in a week. I craved fast food and I knew this town was big enough to have some. Sure enough, near the University of Wyoming there is a strip on Grant St. where you can get any kind of American heart attack special you're looking for. I sat in Taco Bell writing post cards and waited for a call from a friend.

Kristen and Grant live in Laramie and were happy to let me stay with them. They are friends through another friend and are very down to earth people. We got along immediately. Kristen works with special ed. kids in high school and gets to go to immersion classes with them. I think it would be cool in a way to go back to high school classes as an adult just to see what it's like. Maybe I could retain some of the stuff now that I'm older! :)

Grant is a geologist working for an environmental firm. We talked shop on ground water flow, drilling test wells and taking soil samples. He made stuffed chicken breasts using Stove-Top and it was delicious.

It turns out that I broke a spoke on the ride over to their house. After dinner I took the rear wheel apart and changed out the spoke, put the tire on and trued the wheel back to straight.

Daily, 60 miles, 14 mph avg.

Tuesday, 10/3:
Rain overnight, I was glad to have spent the night indoors. The rear wheel had a flat. I hadn't had a flat the entire trip until this point. The night before I knew that when I broke the seal between the tube and the tire that any punctures would turn up...and one did. I changed it out and left town at 8am.

Cold wind in my face for the morning but it didn't bother me - I was on my way out of the Rockies and about to get a few days rest. I crested a long climb south of Tie Siding on Hwy 287. Colorado opened up before my eyes and sped downhill at 47 mph!

I had more energy this day than ever before. It was combination of knowing I was going to see some friends, getting into a new state and looking forward to time off from biking. The miles sailed by as I coasted from Laramie's elevation of 7000 feet to Fort Collins at 5000 feet. I was almost sprinting as I hit the flats on the western edge of town.

I arrived at Amy and Mike's house in Fort Collins at 2pm, having rode 66 miles at 15.6 mph average.

Oh friends. Good people I knew, familiar faces and warm embraces. My friend Chris drove up from Denver wearing a huge grin.

So I'm here in downtown Denver in Chris and Kelli's apartment. I made it! One third of the way with the Rockies under my belt. I'm at the lowest elevation I've been at in two weeks. I can't even do justice to the elation I feel right now.

It's strange too being here in Denver because I've been here before but have always driven or flown in. I JUST RODE MY BIKE FROM THE PACIFIC OCEAN TO DENVER!!!!!!! It feels good.

So I'm on my way to drop the bike off at REI to get a tune up. The rear wheel tread is getting thin so I'll rotate the tires. I need another spare spoke to replace the one I used the other day and a new tube. I also need a new water bladder and a water bottle holder (one broke the first week).

I'll be here until Friday. I plan to leave from Fort Collins on Saturday morning on Hwy 14 and head east toward Nebraska. On the plains. New terrain.

From here I head toward Chicago to visit my brother, his girlfriend and my nephew.

I hope to get the route together and post it online so you can follow me on a map.

The comments this time were awesome! Thanks everyone. If you don't want to log in and make an account to comment, just make your comment and put your name at the end, then send it in as 'anonymous'.
Lots of love,
Andrew

Mountain Stage

2006-09-26T14:46:00.000-07:00

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

Thousand Mile Club

2006-09-25T21:16:00.000-07:00

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.

Rain or Shine

2006-09-21T10:54:00.000-07:00

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

Certainly Not Egypt

2006-09-16T14:45:00.000-07:00

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

Tears and Cheers

2006-09-14T13:20:00.000-07:00

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

More Press Coverage

2006-09-09T09:49:00.000-07:00

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

Lift Off

2006-09-08T17:38:00.000-07:00

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

Sealed On Air

2006-09-06T21:47:00.000-07:00

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

Going Away Party

2006-09-05T15:36:00.000-07:00

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

Folded

2006-09-03T12:25:00.000-07:00

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

Still Shots and Video

2006-09-01T08:39:00.001-07:00

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

Food, Route, Training

2006-08-25T07:46:00.000-07:00

The three things I have left to do are: organizing food, planning parts of the route and keep training.

Food is my new logistical obsession. This week I've been working with the Market of Choice supermarket on getting bulk foods. Rice, dried soups, dried beans, granola, oatmeal and spices are the main ingredients for the food boxes I'll prepare. Variety will be crucial when I'm out on the road cooking dried food for myself everyday.

The Market of Choice has been really helpful. David, the manager of their newest store donated money out of his own pocket for me to use toward bulk food. Barbara, the bulk food manager at the store was a big help in figuring out how much I needed of certain items. This morning I'm meeting with Rick Wright, the president, to discuss further dry food donations. They have been a huge help to me already and I truly appreciate their support.

My friend Brandon loaned me his vacuum sealer so I can prepare individual meals with individual items inside. After working through this process I'll give you an update on how my food prep is progressing. One thing is for sure, it won't be an easy thing to vacuum seal 49+ days worth of food.

Route planning... To date I have a route through Oregon, Idaho, Wyoming and part of Colorado. I also have a section mapped through Illinois, Indiana and Ohio. I haven't had the free time to sit down and focus on the missing sections. Part of it is that I'm confused about the best way to go through the states I have left. Pennsylvania seems like an Appalachian sized question mark and there are some Rail-Trails I want to tie into in Iowa. All in good time.

Training has been going well but I'm winding down. This weekend I did a 50 mile section of very hilly roads with the bike fully loaded. I felt fine. It actually got dark on Todd and me so we had to call for a ride with about 20 miles left to ride. I could have finished the 70 miles if we had more time and more food.

Food is such a huge issue for me. The other night I ate two big sausages then got invited to dinner at a friend's house where I proceeded to eat a full meal complete with second helpings. This is getting out of hand.

Palatability and variety are the two factors that affect my ability to eat as much as I need to. 4000 calories is a huge amount of food. If I'm not interested in eating it, I won't meet my nutritional requirements. Translated into everyday language, that means that I need to have good tasting food that doesn't get boring so I have energy to ride my bike 80 miles everyday.

On the fundraising front, I met with the American Cancer Society this week. They are very eager to help me revise my press release and get me some firm press contacts here in Oregon. They are also going to find press contacts in the cities I'm traveling through. The more press I get, the more interest in my fundraiser I will receive. This translates into donations for fighting cancer and meeting my fundraising goal.

By the way, you can send me a comment anytime by clicking 'Comment' just below the end of this posting.

Thanks to all! Wish me luck over the next two weeks,
Drew

Fully Loaded

2006-08-17T22:26:00.000-07:00

Here's the beast, the fully loaded touring bike. I'm wearing my Team Novara shorts and jersey.

What a difference 30 pounds makes! Fully loaded it handles somewhat like a loaded wheelbarrel. You can make it go straight as long as it's moving at a good speed. When you slow down it wobbles a little and takes a bunch of upper body strength to control.

I rode up the hill near my house the other day with tons of gear in the bags. It wasn't too tough to get up the hill. The lowest gear is perfect; this bike is MADE for fully loaded touring.

Logistics are getting more complicated. I've decided to make up food boxes that Tracey will ship on a weekly basis. Market of Choice, the local supermarket chain, is donating a big pile of bulk food to me. Todd and Rebeca, our friends who own a restaurant, are going to help with wholesale foods to augment whatever I can't get from the supermarket.

I'll make up meals and vaccuum seal them, then make up boxes of the meals. The boxes will be labeled and ready to go. I'll call Tracey and let her know where I'll be in a few days. She can send the next box, General Delivery to me and I'll pick it up at the Post Office when I roll into that town. This also allows me to call and ask for changes to the meal package with additional items like soap, toothpaste, socks, bike tubes, etc.

If you have any suggestions for backpacking-like menu items, send 'em on! I'm thinking rice, pasta, couscous, oatmeal, etc. Gotta keep it light weight. Planning on stopping at stores for fresh foods like fruit, veggies, eggs and bacon.

I just got a stack of detailed maps for the states. Gotta keep pushing the route through Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois....to New Jersey.

My parents were in Eugene all week and were incredible. They helped me get the last bits of bike gear in order and were a big motivator. My dad and I hiked up a mountain, Three Fingered Jack, on Monday. I'm looking forward to seeing them and the rest of my friends and family in New York and New Jersey.

Three weeks to go! I can't believe I'm about to embark on this trip. I am looking forward to meeting people along the way and seeing the country at 15 miles per hour. I'm also looking forward to newspaper interviews and getting closer to the fundraising goal.

Thanks to everyone who's been donating! I'm at 1/4 of the fundraising goal!

Lots of love,
Drew

Donation Website is Back!

2006-08-13T18:35:00.000-07:00

OK, the American Cancer Society website is back up and running.

Click here to check out the current total and the names of the people who have donated. Thanks to everyone who has donated so far!

Yesterday I rode 80 miles. I went east of town, scouting out the first 40 miles of the route I'll take. Today I feel great; no pain, only a little muscle soreness. Right now, Tracey is busy writing your names on the bike. I'll post pictures when she's done so you can see where your name is.

Details are getting wrapped up. I'm getting more and more excited.

Thanks again!
Drew

Four Weeks and 25%

2006-08-10T21:28:00.000-07:00

What an inspirational week! Sorry this update wasn’t posted yesterday but I’ve been training, route planning and getting the bike outfitted. This is definitely a full-time job. Someone compared the process to planning a rock concert as a one-man effort.

Let me apologize for the American Cancer Society website not working. I’ve called them and sent emails trying to get it up and working. Hopefully they can get the problem resolved by the end of this week. The fundraising is moving right along. Before the site went down I had received donations of $5805. Nearly 25% of my goal!

Training and planning are coming along well too! Saturday, I put in an 82 mile ride over five hours and 15 minutes. Sunday, I scoured over maps of Idaho and northern Utah. I found a way through Idaho that avoids the interstates completely!

I found some old fenders in my grandfather’s garage. Monday, I fitted them to the bike. Then Tuesday I pulled them back off and put a fresh coat of paint on them. Tuesday I also repaired a set of panniers that my friend John Dunn loaned me for the ride.

I’ve also been working hard at physical therapy for my knee. I’m happy to say that it feels great. After the 82 mile ride they were both sore, but none of the pain I’d experienced earlier. The way the new bike fits my body along with training, proper nutrition and recovery time have done a good job. The next step is to get fitted for cycling orthotics which will correct my flat-footedness. I got a prescription of topical ibuprofen and lidocaine, which I will rub in every twelve hours to reduce swelling and soreness on the road.

Now I have minor issues like a sore elbow and carpel tunnel to overcome but these pale in light of my long-term knee injuries. I’m doing everything I can to address physiological problems now, while I have time to take rest days. When I’m on the road I’ll have to ride EVERY day to make to the east coast before it gets too cold.

I want to mention that a number of people are under the impression that I’m going as part of a guided tour. Just to be clear, I’ll be by myself the whole time. All my gear will be on my bike. I’ll be camping along the way. There won’t be a support car following me. I’ll pick up food and water at grocery stores during the day. I’m also not following one of the established bicycle routes across the US. I have to find my own way based on the logistical planning I’m doing now. Every night I have to find a place to camp, set up the tent and cook dinner.

Speaking of dinner…I’m eating like a linebacker. I am so hungry all the time, my body is screaming for calories. I estimate that I’m eating between 3000-4000 calories daily. I can sit down and eat 1500 calories in 15 minutes. And I’m losing weight!

I’m trying to bulk up now so that I might have some fat reserves for the road. Bulking is difficult because it’s a 180 from my normal nutrition habits. Fatty meats, flax seed and olive oil, piles of fried potatoes, brown rice, nuts, beans, buttery fish…piles of food.

Not only do I have to think differently about my food choices, but it’s difficult to prepare that much food. I fairly fill my work bag with lunch foods and often I’ll stop to buy food after I’ve eaten everything I packed. Aside from the cost, I wish I could always eat this way.

I feel great too. With this knee problem clearing up I feel like an ox. My legs are strong and my core is thick. I feel like I’m ready for six weeks of bicycle riding on an 80 pound bike over mountains and prairies.

Looking forward, I am waiting to get detailed topographic maps of Wyoming, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania and New York. I’ll lay out a route that avoids major roads and hits my two big stops in Denver and Chicago. The manager of the Eugene REI store is working with REI stores in those cities to arrange for me to come give a talk/clinic on my experiences. I might be able to get a bike tune-up from the stores at the same time. I also enrolled in a bicycle maintenance class at REI so I can do road repairs if I break down somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

I have to get rear panniers for the bike, rain-proof shoe covers, a handlebar bag and padded handlebar tape for the carpel tunnel. Tracey and I have been working on figuring out how to get everyone’s names stenciled on the bike. I also have to arrange for a flight and shipping the bike back to Oregon in October. On top of this I’m contacting friends and family for fundraising. I’m also contacting newspapers, television and radio stations with press releases. I hope to get some press coverage to help with the fundraising.

I’ll be leaving in four weeks.

Kicking the Tires

2006-08-02T17:43:00.000-07:00

I put about 110 miles on the new bike. 40 miles last Friday, 50 miles on Sunday and about 20 miles on Tuesday. It's nice! The brakes are so smooth that I'll be riding along just itching for a reason to tap the brake levers. Nice shifting, ergonomic handlebars. I've never had a rack on a bike so I'm enjoying putting my bag back there for my ride to work.

On Sunday, I strapped a box with three gallon paint cans onto it. I rode about 20 miles just to get the feel of the weight. It handled surprisingly well with the 25 extra pounds. It wasn't too much effort to get the bike up to speed and keep it there, even with a light headwind. I'm getting really excited about taking this trip.

To be honest, starting about three weeks ago I was having minor anxiety attacks...about once a day or so. I think it began the night after I injured my knee. I was feeling like I'd painted myself into a corner. I have a small window of time to train so I couldn't stop riding, but I couldn't ride much because of the injury.

I knew the bike I was riding was a major contributor to the injury. So the search was on for an affordable bike. It would have been so easy if I had the cash to walk into a bike shop and walk out with a new bike. I needed something affordable so I spent over two weeks contacting bike companies, talking with dealers and expanding the search. Everyday that went by was another day of riding the 'pain machine' and another day closer to the departure date. Tick-tock.

So you can see why I'm so happy to have a bike. It also happens to be the BEST bike out there for touring and I got it at a great price from REI. Now that I've had the opportunity to load it down a little, I'm getting really pumped about the ride. My knee feels much better too. I feel like I did when I was a kid and had always wanted to go backpacking. Everything I need to survive is strapped to the machine and I power the thing across the country!

I'll have a sleeping bag, sleeping pad, tent, stove, pots, utensils, toiletries, first aid kit, cycling clothes, cold weather clothes, rain gear, camera, cell phone, a sizable tool kit, food and water. All that stuff will be stuffed into panniers (think saddlebags) that hang over the front and back wheels of the bike. Mounted on the handlebars will be a plastic map case and some food. Load it up and go east young man.

I visualize pedaling along a small farm road in Iowa with soft sunlight and looking down to see your names on the bike. Voices and faces, murmuring and smiling. I think of my buddy Brian and wonder what he would think. I can hear my grandmother exclaim, "Wow!" the way she did. My friend Dan cracking a joke about my ass being sore. In a way, doing this alone makes me feel closer to you all.

There is a satisfying feeling of doing the right thing; like handing someone a dollar they dropped or going back into the store to pay for something the checker missed on the bottom of your cart. If you could concentrate that feeling and shoot it in your arm, that's the way I feel about doing this fundraiser. It is so much more important than two months of salary or being cozied up at home as autumn sets in.

Every 60 seconds we lose another minute to do the right thing. We lose a day here or there. As my buddy Chris Schauffele would say, we lose a minute of "sucking the marrow out of life." It can be so rich if you are really felling something positive about the things you are doing.

All your supporting emails and phone calls have been a big motivator. Tracey's support has been overwhelming as well. This full-time job of fundraising has actually made us quite close in the past two months.

Last weekend we were on our front porch and a girl walked by with a kitten. Tracey asked if she could hold it. As the girl handed it over she told us that she rescued it a few blocks away from three kids who were kicking it down the street. It was so cute. We mentioned that we'd been thinking about getting a kitten and she said, "Now ya got one!" and walked off.

Now we got one.

Poor thing had fleas, an eye infection and lots of tape worms. Despite all these ailments she has the softest fur and nicest demeanor. Now a few days later, with the fleas gone and the worms dying off she's very happy. She'll be prancing and jumping and batting at empty paper bags then come snuggle up to you and start purring the moment you touch her.

We don't have a name, but send us your suggestions.

Other than that, I've been working like crazy on laying out my route to New Jersey. This is really important because I could railroad myself right into a big mountain pass or onto a busy highway with no shoulder. I think I'm going to follow the Oregon Trail through Idaho and half of Wyoming before I drop down into Colorado. From there to Chicago should be straight forward. Ohio and Pennsylvania will be challenging; I need to find a way around the Appalachians.

Thank you for reading this blog. Thanks for donating too! By the way, it's at nearly 20%, almost $5000!

Adios,
Andrew (Drew)

I got the bike!

2006-07-28T00:15:00.000-07:00

Today I bought the bike that will take me across the country. It's so nice! I can't wait to go on a nice long test ride tomorrow.

REI hooked me up with a Team Novara discount. Team Novara is the REI cycling team which I recently joined. The team discount isn't normally available to new members such as myself though. I worked with Guy in the shop and he fitted the bike perfectly to me. I can't wait to ride without knee and neck pain like I had with the big training bike.

If you are a new reader of this weblog, here is the link to the American Cancer Society Fundraising webpage: Team ACS

Tracey and I have been discussing how best to put your names on the bike. More to come on that.

Thanks everyone,
Andrew

Regular Thursday Update

2006-07-26T22:52:00.000-07:00

Hello!

Been training and getting in touch with tons of people. Between phone calls, emails and letters I have spoken with literally dozens of people in the past week. There is an amazing, growing community of individuals, families and companies that care about this fundraiser. It's an awesome feeling to have you all behind me. Thanks.

I think I may have a chance to get the perfect bike for the ride. I may know today (Thursday) or tomorrow so check back; I'll have photos. May be getting some press coverage both in New Jersey and in Oregon; I'll let you know where to look for me!

I have been blessed with the second job in a row where my boss is a great guy. I was recently granted Leave Without Pay so that I can have time to do the ride. My job will be waiting when I return. Thanks Dave!

Spent a fun afternoon with my man, Mr. Dan Harrington, who recently retired. Dan was diagnosed for the fourth time in his life with a difficult form of cancer and he's not expected to beat the disease this time. He's living life to the fullest and I really did enjoy spending some time with him this week. I'm transcribing the story he wrote about his fight and will post it on this webpage before the next update. It's insightful to say the least.

It was really hot in Eugene this weekend. I shouldn't complain though, the weather map looked like we were all boiling last week. I hope it's not an omen that it will be freezing cold in the Appalachians in mid October!

Wish me luck on the bike! Until next Thursday - Andrew

Bruised But Not Broken

2006-07-19T06:38:00.000-07:00

I rode last Thursday with my friend Eric Birkhauser. Another hill ride south of Eugene. Some of the hills are pretty steep and I'm not used to the high gearing of the road bike (only two gears in the front 42-52 and six in the back 13-24). My thighs alone weren't enough to get me up the hills. I started pulling the pedals up through the top part of the stroke (remember I was clipped into special pedals with shoes that Shimano sent me for this purpose). It's difficult to explain but basically I was cranking on the pedal from 9 o'clock all the way to 6 o'clock (3/4 of the circle).
After a few long hills with this kind of work my left knee started getting sore. After the ride I iced it a bunch. I rested on Friday, and then Saturday I swam for 30 minutes. Sunday evening I got back on the bike, intending only to do flat riding with lots of spinning (high pedal RPMs and easier gears).
I rode west out of Eugene into a pretty strong head wind. Before I knew it, I was working almost as hard as I had been when climbing hills. It only lasted 45 minutes or so and then I turned across the wind. 30 minutes later I turned east and was getting a nice tailwind. Spinning on flat, narrow country roads my average speed was about 21 mph.
Everything was fine for a while; no knee pain, sweet sunset, light traffic. With only eight miles to go something changed. The pain had started back and went from a one to about a six in a single pedal revolution. I got home after 2:15 of riding and iced it for the rest of the night.
Yesterday I went to my buddy Kenji Carp. He's the physical therapist who fixed the same knee six months ago. I originally injured it training for the Philadelphia marathon three years ago. Kenji was happy to see me at 5pm. He'd tacked me onto the end of his busy schedule for the day.
After twisting my knee around and having me do some tests he found the problem. Basically, the tendon (sartorius) that connects from my hip across my thigh to the inside rear of my knee is the culprit. Luckily, he thinks between ice, stretching and a comprehensive hip strengthening regimen I should be in good shape to keep training. He shot a bunch of therapeutic UV light into the tendon area and asked me to come back later this week.
The source of the problem is complex but comes down to three things. The wallet I sit on in my left hip pocket might be tightening the muscle connected to the offending tendon. Also, I've been training hills that are too steep for the gearing I have on my bike. And the bike seat was adjusted too high. I fixed the wallet problem and just have to stick to longer, flatter rides for a month or so.
My excitement at such a benign diagnosis is only matched by my previous nervousness and uncertainty about it. I got home from Kenji's office, changed into mountain biking gear and rode over to Eric's house. We put in 17 miles on the trails south of Eugene. It was nice to get on my mountain bike and get off the road. I really love riding that bike and the gearing is so much easier than the road bike. We each went over the handlebars once, but were both fine.
I iced my knee all night after the ride and again today while I was at work. This evening I stretched a ton and worked out at home. I've been icing it off and on all evening.
For the bike, I dropped the seat and moved it back a touch. Hopefully these changes will take care of the problem until I can get a touring bike that's the right size and gearing for me. In the meantime, I'm going to stay off the huge, steep hills and do what I can to keep the RPMs up.

I wanted to mention that my fundraising is going incredibly well. If you're reading this you are probably one of the awesome people that have contributed. Thank you.
I have a lot of names to mention, so here goes:
Rich Bascue is my dad; he donated for his co-leader in Boy Scouts, Chris Hughes. Dorothy Merereau and Carla Nickelsen are long time friends of Dan Harrington here in Oregon. Anne Nodes and Marci Fourre and my mom's friends through artwork, they've known me since I was 13 and they both do beautiful stain glass. Alan Swartz is Marci's coworker. Molly and Emily Bernath are friends and climbing partners who I know from Rutgers, they're both doing a breast cancer fundraiser in Boston. Clayton and Liz Spurell are Tracey's friends from college and high school, thanks guys! The Ferdinando Family lives a few doors down from my parents; Joe and I worked together to fight a road widening project that would have ruined the rural feel of our island in New Jersey. Gavin Lau and Nick Wirth are friends from the EPA in NYC, both incredible athletes. Jason Kuo is the guy whose eye I almost gouged a few weeks ago in Washington, strong dude for sure!

Oh yeah, if you want photos from the mountaineering trip in Washington:
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/abumyn/album?.dir=/61f0scd&.src=ph&.tok=phk96MFB1h5G3Gx3

Thank you so much, everyone. Having you all read this and donate is a huge motivation!

Drew

1500 Miles in the Northwest

2006-07-13T09:14:00.000-07:00

Good times. My friend Drew flew out from NJ on June 30. Tracey talked us into a road trip up to Washington. No plan, just got in the car with the map and a trunk full of camping and climbing gear. No kids, no pets, no house to worry about.
We drove north out of Oregon and decided Mt. Rainier would be cool to check out. Wow. Our first full view was from about 20 miles away and the mountain was spectacular in the evening sunshine. We drove closer and found a campsite just outside Mt. Rainier Natl. Park.
After dinner, I turned on the little radio I keep with my camping stuff and we sat playing Rummy 500 and Dominoes. Sipping red wine with an old friend, feeling the cool air of an alpine evening, campfire crackling and laughing the whole time.
The next day we drove through the park, stopping at the roadside attractions and taking in the views. We even went for a hike that turned into mostly a snow climb. Tracey didn't have any shoes so she wore her Chaco sandals. We hiked up about 1000 feet of snow and alpine forest to a rocky ledge where we had lunch and soaked in the full view of Rainier. On the hike down, Tracey's toes kept freezing as they were covered in snow. Drew realized that if he warmed up a mouthful of water and then 'squirted' it on her toes they'd warm up. Anything is better than freezing toes, disgusting as it might sound. BTW - she washed her feet afterward and yes, she's a rock star.
So there were dozens of cyclists riding through Mt. Rainier Natl. Park. There is one main road that traverses the southern end of the Park and it must gain nearly 2000 vertical feet over several miles. Riding down looked fun, but riding up looked pretty tough. Now that I've been training I had a real appreciation for these riders' efforts. I guess it's safe to say I'm a little nervous about riding over the Rockies and some of the passes between here and there. All I can do is get on the bike and ride a lot.
Back to our road trip; that night we made a huge batch of vegetarian burritos (I started cooking with this stuff called textured vegetable protein (TVP) and it makes the best burritos). Another night of games and laughter around the campfire.
Back on the road the next morning. We ran into some of my old climbing partners from NJ at the Paradise Visitor's Center. It was good to see Brendan and Molly; I guess there was a lot of Jersey energy coagulating in that spot at that moment. Glad we were all there together.
We drove around the east side of the mountain to a place called Sunrise. Yet another breath taking view of Rainier. By this point Drew and I were ready to drop Tracey off with her friend in Seattle and come back to climb the mountain. We cooked up some mac-n-cheese in the parking lot and stared at the mountain, contemplating every crevasse and detailing all the gear. The photo to the right is the view we were drooling over for an hour or more. If you zoom in you can make out the climbing route in the center of the photo, about halfway down from the summit to the bottom of the frame.
But alas, we had plans to meet another friend in Seattle and climb a different mountain. Rainier will have to wait.
We got to Seattle, saw the Space Needle from the Interstate and met up with Jason. Drew had met Jason on a climbing trip to Peru last year. We joked around a bit and got to know each other then did the deed and unloaded the car of all the climbing gear. Planning was underway. The photo to the left shows the mayhem that ensues when planning for a three-day climb on a mountain you've never seen with partners you've never climbed with. In the end we each packed a 30 lb pack. That night I dropped Tracey off at a friend's house and Drew, Jason and I went to bed as early as we could so we could get an early start.
Up at 6:45. Drove cross town to pick up a beat-up bicycle from another friend. Drove in a delirium up to Bellingham and got some garbage breakfast at 7-11. East from Bellingham into North Cascades Natl. Park. Register for a backcountry permit at the Ranger Station. Stash the bike on the west side of Mt. Shuksan at a ski area. Drive to the north side of Mt. Shuksan. Dial in gear and make last minute adjustments when we realize how heavy the packs are.
Now the fun part. Walk down to the river and cross a 12 inch log to the big dirty root ball. Climb the root ball and jump from here to the river bank four feet away. Then about 2.5 miles on an old overgrown logging road. At a nondescript path off the main trail, bushwhack down to another river and find the log that crosses it. You can either walk right across with no hands or you can shimmy along on your butt. Jason and I walked, Drew shimmied. We laughed at him a little but it's OK.
Then we had to bushwhack up the side of a ridge for what seemed like two miles through old growth forest. There was a faint path that we kept losing every hundred feet but it got us through some of the denser sections of forest. At one point the path brought us to the edge of a cascading waterfall that coursed through a chasm about 80 feet deep and 20 feet wide. When we made it to the top of the ridge we stood face to face with Mt. Shuksan. We followed marginal moraine ridges for another mile or more. I couldn't decide to stare at the aqua green of the enormous moraine lake, or the cliffs of the mountain that dropped into the lake, the waterfalls that fell a thousand feet off the mountain into the lake, the huge crevassed glaciers flowing from the mountain, or the beautiful rock on which we were walking. It was an amazing alpine wonderland that few people visit.
After six hours of the most rugged hiking I've ever done, we were tired. Jason wanted to keep going and was the strongest of us all, but between my dehydration and Drew's legs cramping we needed to stop. So we busted out the stove and started melting snow right on the ridge. We laid out our sleeping bags on the rocks and the evergreen ground cover with a 360 degree view of Shuksan, the lake and the mountains up in Canada. We talked about the scary-looking route that zigzagged around gaping crevasses. We talked about our lack of food and my and Drew's waning energy stores. We took sunset photos and watched the mountain change from white to blue to yellow, orange, pink and then back to a deep blue before darkness fell.
I lay in my sleeping bag watching satellites arc slowly across the sky, listening to waterfalls dropping 1000 feet into a glacial lake and avalanches of calving glacial ice cascading down the face of Mt. Shuksan, the sound like a rifle report followed by a long steady rub of rough grit sandpaper across stone. It rained for an hour and half but I stayed dry in the bivy bag that covers only the sleeping bag and my head.
The next morning we melted more snow, ran out of stove fuel and finally all decided that we were in over our heads to attempt the mountain by the route we were looking at. We packed and retraced our steps along the ridge, and back down into the old growth forest. Jason was hiking right behind me in one rough section and my hiking pole caught on a branch and flipped up behind me. All I heard was, "Ah! You got me man!" I turned and saw the right side of Jason's face streaming blood, all he could see was red. We were hours from the car and at least an hour by car to a hospital.
My pole had flipped up into his glasses, broke the frame, tossed the lens and bludgeoned him. I cleaned up the mess in his eye, got the moss out of the cut and the bleeding stopped. The pole (read, "me") punctured his nose and ripped a small gash in his upper eyelid. Drew found the lens and taped the frame back together. In a few minutes we were off, but I still feel horrible about it.
After we picked up the bike, and drove toward Bellingham we found a small grocery store with Q-tips and antibiotics and I cleaned out the cut really well. It's amazing that it didn't cut right through Jason's eyelid. Anyway, back to Seattle to drop the bike and then down to Olympia to drop Jason off at his sister's house. We drove through the night to Eugene and slept a long time.
Thursday, Drew and I spent some time in the kitchen and basically recovered from the hiking and driving. Friday, we went on a short hike to Spencer's Butte and gazed out over Eugene and east to the Cascade Mountains. We did some gardening at my grandfather's house and when Tracey got home from work we drove over to the coast. We spent a nice relaxing night in Yachats. Watched the sunset, played cards, ate incredible food prepared by our friends Todd and Rebecca and sipped red wine and champagne. Photo, left to right, Rebecca, Tracey, Todd, Bethany, Drew wathcing the sunset in Yachats.
Saturday, Todd talked me into going surfing. I had never swam in the Pacific (too cold) but he lent me an old wet suit and a body board. I got pounded. The waves were breaking in continuous sets with no channel to let you get out past the breakers. I got dunked twice and after the cord wrapped around my neck the second time I decided to chill on the beach in the sun until Todd had had enough. We drove Drew up to Portland in the afternoon and said goodbye. It had been an awesome eight days.
Tracey and I drove down to Eugene to another friend's house. Slept the night in the backyard under the stars and got up for a great breakfast. I think there were eight of us all together and we drove out to the Oregon Country Fair. Imagine fairies and hippies and artists at a party in the woods. The Country Fair is also reminiscent of the Ewok village from Star Wars somehow.
And then Monday back to work. Monday night I got in a really good 2.5 hour bike ride in the hills south of Eugene. Tuesday I was sick and yesterday I was really sick. I feel a little better today but decided to take the day off of work to keep my coworkers from getting sick and to recover faster. Plus, now you have something to read! I wish I had more pictures from the hiking, maybe a link in the future.
Thanks to everyone who has donated. Thanks to everyone who has told me they enjoy reading this blog. Today is my birthday (28!) and I'm hoping I feel well enough to go for a spin this afternoon.
Thanks again,
Drew

A Very Big Bike

2006-06-29T21:47:00.000-07:00

So here's me and the bike I'm training on. I found the same model on EBay and it's from 1982 or something. A friend of mine gave it to me eight years ago. The only thing I've done to it was adding the white aero bars.

Just so you know, I usually wear a helmet but Tracey thought it would look funny in these photos. Also, don't laugh at my skinny legs. I'll know if you laugh at my skinny legs and I'll laugh at yours too if you do.

In the second photo check out how huge this bike is. I'm 5'11" and I can't even stand over it without the top bar getting, 'in the way'. It's a cool machine to train on though, and I'm glad I have it while I save up for the bike I'll take cross-country.

Why You Do Dis?

2006-06-28T20:45:00.000-07:00

I've been giving my fundraising flyers out to pretty much anyone who knows my name. At work, several people have been very generous. Nearly everyone in the office is excited for me and there are lots of questions about my preparations and fundraising strategies. At a meeting of the minds one afternoon (ie, around the water cooler) our conversation was overheard by a guy I didn't know very well but whom I'd given a flyer anyway.
It seems he had decided that in no case was he going to contribute to the fundraiser, which is perfectly fine of course. I guess he just wanted to let me know about it when everyone else was there, which is also fine. Then things got weird and his tone changed to accusatory, "Why are you doing this cross country bike ride when you could do a fundraiser and never leave town?" Followed by, "It just seems like you found an excuse to take a trip without having to pay for it."
Have you ever been so flabbergasted at an accusation that your mind went blank to the point of reboot? It takes a few minutes for your desktop to come back up. By that point we had all dispersed to our cubes and our cars. The discussion was over for the day.
How could someone doubt my motivations? Am I not transparent enough? Does this person see some truth that others don't? Doubt and insecurity rolled down my back like cold rain drops. The internal dialog, "Yeah Drew, why you do dis?" It would be so much easier to do a massive fundraiser without having to train for a six week bike ride at the same time. I wouldn't have to worry about time off from work, lost income, missing my wife. No future anxiety about loneliness on the road or frustration from breakdowns. I could spend more time working in my grandfather's garden and hanging with him. I could do more carpentry side jobs. Maybe even buy some new tools with the money I will have spent feeding my way across the country.
Is it about raising funds for a cause or doing a bike ride?

The answer is staring me in the face, it's about both. I originally started planning the bike ride in honor of my grandmother and my best friend Brian. That's how this whole effort got started. In Brian's case I felt I needed to do something to honor the way he lived his life and the way he helped me understand mine; bare bones and impossible. In my grandmother's case, I felt I needed traveling and physically testing my will. Riding cross country with no help seems impossible at face value (enter Brian's influence). But broken into segments, series of days and daily goals it turns into a test of will marked by miles and town names (Grandma).
Then there is Dan Harrington who's dying of bone marrow cancer. I wanted to let him know that this ride is also for him. My wife's family to let them know that this ride is for their grandmother. My mom's family to let them know it's about our other grandmother and my great-grandfather. I started adding up the names and it became glaringly clear that everyone I've ever cared about who has or will pass away has been taken by cancer.
I want to scream to everyone that I care about these people and am deeply affected by their passing. That's why I'm doing a fundraiser. It's not a way to do a bike ride without having to pay for it. It's not even an excuse to go on a bike ride. I could and would have done this ride without putting the pressure on myself to raise money for the American Cancer Society. I could have set a fundraising goal of $1000. But I didn't, I chose to do this as a huge fundraiser because that's the voice I want right now. Big, loud and compassionate. I care about you all and I'm not sitting around town with a sock in my mouth.
The doubt I felt had scattered my motivation. It's good to question yourself, question your intentions in matters like this. When the motivation comes back to center its dense and powerful as mine is now.
Thanks to everyone who's been donating: Jon Thompson is a good friend from work. Keith and Jolyn Green are Jon's sister and brother-in-law; their daughter Megan had cancer and recently survived. Stephen and Emily Terrell are good friends of my wife and me. Of course, "Mom" is my mom, Laurie. Amy Lancaster is a very close old friend of mine. And of course, Dan Harrington is the dude who says what he means and does what he knows is right. Thank you all for your support!
I hope you continue to read this blog every week. Send me a message if you have questions or want to comment on the stuff I ramble about.

-Drew

Contemplative Woodwork

2006-06-20T11:58:00.000-07:00

here are the before and after pictures of the bar i built in New York. there wasn't much but plumbing and a fridge when i started. i sunk the fridge into the wall and moved the plumbing around for the new sink. i built the back bar including: a sink, counter space, mirror, wine rack, switch operated lighting (i installed my first switch!) and power and cable on the wall where the TV will hang. the bar was pretty basic with some intricate molding around the bar top and a recessed ice bin. the whole project got stained with serious help from my mother-in-law, Pat (i hate staining).

i'm really happy with how it turned out. definitely looking forward to some nice family parties down there, watching football games and playing foosball.

i got out for an hour bike ride yesterday. rode about 25 miles on the bike path that runs along the river in Eugene. the old bike i'm riding needs a new derailleur and the spokes keep 'pinging' because they're loose.

i also wanted to mention that i met a young woman on one of my flights last week. i mentioned my fundraiser and she told me she'd had Hodgkin's Lymphoma when she was in high school. i had no idea that Hodgkin's Lymphoma is a form of cancer. it's amazing how many people have had cancer and how many different types of the disease there are. she told me about her chemo and the long-term worry that it may return.

all these people with cancer, all this worry in our society. the unanswerable health questions seem daunting and yet our soceity flirts with known carcinogens on a daily basis. we apply them to crops, dump them on the ground and in landfills, clean our houses with them and build basement bars with products that offgas them. we even put them in the air from car and truck exhaust.

it's illogical that we accept being exposure to carcinogens. the risk of developing cancer is out of sight and out of mind. even if we are conscious of carcinogens it's inconvenient to avoid them all. it's not like putting on a seat belt or wearing a bike helmet. you'd almost need to step out of mainstream society to avoid them altogether.

i'm not being alarmist or suggesting this system comes to a screeching halt. it's the way we live. change happens lethargically. research like exposure studies into human health effects may over time, help determine how much of a carcinogen will trigger cancer. the numbers are tricky though, because every single human on the planet has a different tolerance. it's difficult to nail down how much exposure to A or B chemical will trigger cancer. right now our best estimates are just 'avoid and/or minimize exposure'. in the long run, companies have excuses to keep making carcinogens and we have excuses to keep surrounding ourselves with them.

all this is not to say that exposure to chemicals in the environment is the only way a person can develop cancer. so even if we reduced exposure down to zero we'd still be seeing people develop the disease. for now, we've got to focus on the disease. the funds we raise for the American Cancer Society will be allocated toward research, toward helping people who have cancer and supporting the sad and scared people who love them. every single one of us who has donated is helping society understand cancer. we're helping to find answers to our current unanswerable questions.

thanks to everyone who donated!
Andrew

4% and Growing

2006-06-19T14:32:00.000-07:00

thanks to everyone who recently donated!

Mike Moltzen and Reema Loutan are two of my good friends from the EPA in New York. Pat Rolls is my mother-in-law who I just spent most of the past week with on Long Island. Ken and JoAnn Lickel are my wife's aunt and uncle in Southern California. Charles Lickel is also one of my wife's uncles who now lives near Poughkeepsie. you guys are great and Tracey is going to stencil your names on my forth-coming bike!

i spent the last week at my brother-in-law and sister-in-law's house in Bethpage, NY building them a bar in the basement of their new house. i put in some long days (12-16 hours) and it came out looking fabulous. thanks to my friend Manoli who loaned me his compound miter saw; i could never have done it without that saw. i'll post before and after pictures so you can see what i did.

i flew back to Oregon last night and plan to get on the bike this afternoon to catch up on my training. it was really nice to ride to work this morning and get my legs pumping again after a week out of the saddle.

i've decided that after i complete the ride to the Jersey Shore i'm going to ride into Manhattan to show off my bike to my friends. when i was working in the City i always wanted to ride in, so it will be really special to finally do it. i also think it's important that people be able to see their names on the bike and know how big of an inspiration they are to me.

check out the links to the left, there is one very funny video and a link to the fundraising site where you can see your names scrolling. thanks again!
Andrew

First Donations - 1%

2006-06-07T20:44:00.000-07:00

thanks so much to my brother and sister-in-law and my father-in-law for being the first to donate. i'm at 1% of my fundraising goal! it's a great feeling, thanks guys.

this week has been hectic; with my grandmother passed away six weeks ago i've been spending lots of time with my grandfather. on Monday i took off part of a work day to go with him and my aunt to the hospital. he was getting a screening by the anesthesiologist who will assist in his prostate surgery tomorrow. i'm heading to his house at 4:30am to wake him and take him to the hospital for the procedure. then tomorrow night i catch a red-eye to Long Island - i think it's going to be a long day.

my wife, Tracey has been working so hard on her final architecture project that we only see each other in passing it seems. watching her work so hard has been inspirational in the sense that i'm throwing myself at the Life Spoke project with all my intensity. that's why it's so great to have gotten the first donations. it feels like i've just embarked on a long exciting journey that won't stop until i reach the east coast on a bike in four months.

thanks also to the folks i've been talking to on the phone this week. Bud and Lindy, i'm looking forward to speaking to you over the next months as this all comes together.

have to go pack, thanks again-
Andrew

just me, so you know.

2006-06-02T23:53:00.000-07:00

First Blog

2006-06-02T21:58:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone,

So now I'm set up to give you updates on my progress toward fundraising, getting my gear in order and training for my cross country ride. Once I start my ride I'll give you updates on my progress across the US.

I got my training bike in the mail from my parents the other day (thanks mom!). It's a racing bike from the 80's that a friend had given me when I was 19. Yesterday's 15 mile test ride was great and it will be sweet to train on this bike for next month or two. Before I depart on the cross-country trip I need to get a touring bike. A touring bike is designed to handle the bags that go over the front and rear wheel and carry all my stuff; beefy wheels, special tapped holes to bolt on racks, longer wheel-base so your heels don't rub the rear bags. They also have a relaxed riding position, which will help keep my hands from going numb on 100+ mile days.

I've been brainstorming with friends here in Eugene about fundraising and there are some excellent ideas. One friend thinks she can set up a benefit concert, others are thinking of hosting parties and asking for donations at the door. Another friend works for REI and suggests that I join the REI biking team and work through them to get a deal on a touring bike. For now, I'm going to be contacting all my friends and family. I'm also going to contact bicycle manufacturers to see if they are interested in donating gear (or a bike?).

Thanks for checking this page, I hope to keep it up to date every few days so you have something to look forward to when you're poking around online at work, between class or after work. Send me an email or give me a call (ask for my number in an email), I'd love to hear from you.
-Andrew