Day 6
Winslow AZ to Gallup, NM
133 miles
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Day 1
 |
| The Beginning |
And so it begins. I had a restless sleep last night, in spite of my own dust mite infested pillow to sleep on that I had brought from home. Concern about what lay ahead kept me awake. Soon it was 5:50 and the day got started. We all met for breakfast at 6:30AM and in spite of the offerings of a lot of free food, I stuck with some oatmeal and an english muffin. I've never eaten a lot before a ride and I wasn't about to experiment on the first day of this ride. We were late going and I made one last pit stop in the hotel room to discover on my return that everyone had already left for the ocean. They apparently don't abide by the seven minute rule on this ride. This was a bad way to start a ride across America. I made my way down to the Pacific and caught up with the group. We posed for pictures dipping our wheels into the ocean. By doing so we all managed to get sand stuck to the bottom of our feet and between our toes that would stay there the rest of the day, felt delightfully on every pedal stroke. Then we were off. We followed one of those drainage canals you've seen in Hollywood movie car chases and made our way into the foothills. For the most part, the group stayed together, partly because nobody wanted to pull away on the first day and partly because none of us wanted to seperated from the group and end up getting lost. Up to that point it was flat and relatively fast. Once the climbing started, speeds dropped to the single digits. I felt great on the first climb. Occasionally, I get into a rhythm where it all is in sync. The effort matches the grade and the breathing is in time with the cadence. The second climb was not as blissful. There was no harmonic convergence going on, just a sore butt and tired legs. The oddest part of the day were the two brief stretches of I-10 that we had to go on. Cars are whizzing by at 70 miles an hour, and the shoulder can be littered with truck tire debris. (The problem here is the shards of steel from steel belted tires that like to puncture bike tires.) Fortunately both sections combined were only 2 miles. Bad news is that there's a day on the ride we're to be on the interstate for 100 mile. I will not worry about that today. (I didn't think bikes were ever allowed on the interstate, but apparently where there is no other way to get from one place to another, the exception is allowed.) The absolute best part of the day was the last 30 miles as we descended into Palm Springs. It was a gentle downhill grade with a strong tailwind. I was going up to 42 miles an hour without pedaling. It was quite exhilarating. So 113 miles done, with an average of 17.4 MPH. I pronounce day 1 a success.
Afterward I proceeded to consume perhaps 3000 calories.....recovery drink, bars, more bars, burger, fries, and beer. In addition, I took full advantage of having a single room by laying naked on my bed with my legs up on pillow....not a pretty sight, but an absolute necessity to help with proper recovery. (Had I had a roommate, I'm sure he would have moved to another room or maybe even another bike tour by now.) In addition, in spite of my obsessive labeling of all those baggies, my stuff currently is strewn all over the room. I will repack it carefully by morning so by tomorrow night it will be again ready to be strewn across the room.
So one day down, 30 more days of riding to go. The ride leader said to us that if we can make it through the first week to Albuquerque, then we will be able to make it. For now, I'm taking it one day at a time. Tomorrow, it's on to Blythe, a mear 134 miles away. I'm hoping for more tailwinds.
-Grinner
 |
| Riders at the ride orientation |
 | ||||||||||
|
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Day zero
The last few days have been a whirlwind. Clearly the effects of sleep deprivation have added a layer of dullness to my already lackluster thought processes. Three days ago, I made the error of having two cups of espresso at 5:30 PM in celebration of Barry's new espresso machine. By 1:30 AM I was still awake, working on flight reservations for our upcoming Alaska trip in August. I then woke Kris up at 2AM to get her approval for the flights. I did manage to get some sleep and then rode around 95 miles the next day. Afterwards, there were last minute errands....Target, bank, Dairy Queen, Midwest Mountaineering for socks....and then on to more packing. I became unusually obsessive about organizing my things in the duffel by putting every like-item into own labeled plastic baggy (using my new label maker) and then sorting those baggies into even larger baggies. I spent two days on this. (Those that know me, that have seen my desk at work or closet at home will have trouble reconciling this neatnik view of me with what they have personally observed.) It didn't all go smoothly. My favorite shirt had gone AWOL although it later inexplicably turned up hanging in the closet. I also wasted 2 hours looking for a lost sock. I tried to let it go but just couldn't. Finally, I managed to cut my finger opening up, of all things, a bandaid container. An odd convenience.
Finally, late yesterday it was all done and the moment of truth was at hand. Time to weigh in. The bike trip requires that the duffel weigh no more than 35 pounds, the backpack no more than 15. Based on the calculations I made when I was planning on using a suitcase, the final weight with this 9 pound lighter duffel should be just a shade under 35 pounds. Why it weighed 42 pounds was a mystery. Perhaps higher humidity caused it to absorb more fluid. Or maybe my pillow with its growing dust mite colony weighed more than I thought. Regardless, I went back to square one and started to cull out item after item. Away with the bag balm. Goodbye to the electric toothbrush and charger. I got it down to 38 pounds. One of the final casualties was my Team Mayflower jersey. Sorry team. Removed. Gone. Final weight was 37 pounds including the two pound bottle of bourbon which I refuse to part with. That and my pillow are my comfort items. My packpack also weighed in at 2 pounds over, having added a dozen popcorn packets in a final last minute flurry. If they're sticklers about the weight, I might be throwing a popcorn and bourbon party in my room tonight.
The ticketing person at the airport thought there was an error with my ticket. She asked how it was possible that I'd be flying into Santa Ana and flying out of Boston. How was I planning on getting to Boston? By bicycle, I replied. She nodded at me and gave me the once over. If she could have verbalized the expression on her face, it would have been, "No chance."
My son, Nathan, was kind enough to drive me to the airport at 4:30 AM. He asked me where I currently stood on the spectrum of excitement and anxiety. I told him that at the moment it was more like 60% anxiety and 40% excitement. But as I think about it now, as I'm about 1 hour from arriving into Santa Ana, it's just not that simple. It's more like trying to describing the complexities of a wine. In my case, mixed in with excitement and worry are hints of sadness, traces of loneliness, and overwhelming pangs of fear. Yes fear. I'm scared. The ride ahead is completely unchartered territory. Reading over the America by Bike material this AM, I was reminded by their "requirements" for training. You should start your training 6-8 months ahead and plan to spend the last two months riding 300-350 miles a week. I've been on my bike for a total of three weeks now and two of those weeks I've ridden 300 and above. I have not prepared for this in any ideal sense, with the Minnesota winter to blame. Sure, I've done a lot of spinning this winter, but spinning indoors and riding outdoors are not the same. Regardless, I will soon find out it I measure up or are sent home packing. I'm just glad that I've got that bourbon.
Well, I've now spent the last 6 hours getting both oriented and terrified. After arrival, I spent some time with Jim, the bike mechanic, who helped me reassemble the bike. Very nice guy, very mellow. Then it was 3 hours of introductions, bike safety talk, the route we will take tomorrow, signing of papers, the likelihood that your tire will get shredded along the route, that we will have stretches that we will be riding on the interstate, and that there is to be no booze in our luggage that will be transported, which is apparently against rules involving commercial transportation. I fessed up about the bourbon and it was placed inside my empty bike case which will get transported to Amesbury waiting for me at the end of the ride. As for the riders, they all look like they're in incredible shape and have been training for this for years, doing double centuries, some even triple centuries. They were not impressed by my Lake Superior swim of two miles, nor my second place finish (out of 4) in my age group at the Square Lake Half Ironman. Whether I'm completely over my head on this will be more clear in the days to come. For now, I'm just happy to be able to sit quietly in my room and think how great its going to be to finish this ride 33 days from now and crack open that bourbon. By the way, it was my birthday today. I'm 56 now.
-Grinner
Finally, late yesterday it was all done and the moment of truth was at hand. Time to weigh in. The bike trip requires that the duffel weigh no more than 35 pounds, the backpack no more than 15. Based on the calculations I made when I was planning on using a suitcase, the final weight with this 9 pound lighter duffel should be just a shade under 35 pounds. Why it weighed 42 pounds was a mystery. Perhaps higher humidity caused it to absorb more fluid. Or maybe my pillow with its growing dust mite colony weighed more than I thought. Regardless, I went back to square one and started to cull out item after item. Away with the bag balm. Goodbye to the electric toothbrush and charger. I got it down to 38 pounds. One of the final casualties was my Team Mayflower jersey. Sorry team. Removed. Gone. Final weight was 37 pounds including the two pound bottle of bourbon which I refuse to part with. That and my pillow are my comfort items. My packpack also weighed in at 2 pounds over, having added a dozen popcorn packets in a final last minute flurry. If they're sticklers about the weight, I might be throwing a popcorn and bourbon party in my room tonight.
The ticketing person at the airport thought there was an error with my ticket. She asked how it was possible that I'd be flying into Santa Ana and flying out of Boston. How was I planning on getting to Boston? By bicycle, I replied. She nodded at me and gave me the once over. If she could have verbalized the expression on her face, it would have been, "No chance."
My son, Nathan, was kind enough to drive me to the airport at 4:30 AM. He asked me where I currently stood on the spectrum of excitement and anxiety. I told him that at the moment it was more like 60% anxiety and 40% excitement. But as I think about it now, as I'm about 1 hour from arriving into Santa Ana, it's just not that simple. It's more like trying to describing the complexities of a wine. In my case, mixed in with excitement and worry are hints of sadness, traces of loneliness, and overwhelming pangs of fear. Yes fear. I'm scared. The ride ahead is completely unchartered territory. Reading over the America by Bike material this AM, I was reminded by their "requirements" for training. You should start your training 6-8 months ahead and plan to spend the last two months riding 300-350 miles a week. I've been on my bike for a total of three weeks now and two of those weeks I've ridden 300 and above. I have not prepared for this in any ideal sense, with the Minnesota winter to blame. Sure, I've done a lot of spinning this winter, but spinning indoors and riding outdoors are not the same. Regardless, I will soon find out it I measure up or are sent home packing. I'm just glad that I've got that bourbon.
Well, I've now spent the last 6 hours getting both oriented and terrified. After arrival, I spent some time with Jim, the bike mechanic, who helped me reassemble the bike. Very nice guy, very mellow. Then it was 3 hours of introductions, bike safety talk, the route we will take tomorrow, signing of papers, the likelihood that your tire will get shredded along the route, that we will have stretches that we will be riding on the interstate, and that there is to be no booze in our luggage that will be transported, which is apparently against rules involving commercial transportation. I fessed up about the bourbon and it was placed inside my empty bike case which will get transported to Amesbury waiting for me at the end of the ride. As for the riders, they all look like they're in incredible shape and have been training for this for years, doing double centuries, some even triple centuries. They were not impressed by my Lake Superior swim of two miles, nor my second place finish (out of 4) in my age group at the Square Lake Half Ironman. Whether I'm completely over my head on this will be more clear in the days to come. For now, I'm just happy to be able to sit quietly in my room and think how great its going to be to finish this ride 33 days from now and crack open that bourbon. By the way, it was my birthday today. I'm 56 now.
-Grinner
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
T minus 3 days
Awoke this morning to the sight of an inch of snow on the ground and the knowledge that for the first time in my adult life, I do not have a job to report to. Both are surreal. I was hoping to put in around 6 hours of riding today, but unless the snow stops soon that's not going to happen. This is after all, April 20th, and this sort of thing has been known to happen here in Minnesota. A few years back, I had signed up for the Ironman ride, also in late April, and awoke to a few inches of snow on the ground. A ready excuse for not doing it that year, so I didn't go. Later I was told by people that did go, that the roads were clear down in Lakeville. I guess I should have gone. My last day at work yesterday, having completed 24+ years at Aspen, was equally surreal. Saying goodbye to patients, staff, my wonderful nurse Jill that I've had the fortune to work with the last couple of years ...handing in my badge, keys.....removing almost all remnants of myself from the office....it just all seemed like too much to absorb at the time. I will miss Aspen. I think I really will. I've always had a hard time giving up on things. Look at the car I drive. True story: a nurse who hadn't worked at Aspen for awhile returned after a number of years and said that when she saw my car in the parking lot, was shocked that I was still driving that car. Well, that was 8 yrs ago and I'm still driving that Subaru Impreza, which other than rusting out and leaking large amounts of oil, still runs reasonably well. No, I don't embrace change the way some people do.
My duffel bag came yesterday and I realized that I'm going to have to figure out a way to organize my stuff in it; otherwise it will be like traveling around with the equivalent of one big bag of jumbled laundry. On the Kilimanjaro climb, one couple brought along these very large heavy duty Glad storage bags. What I'm going to do is to get a few of those to help sequester some of my things. So instead of one big bag of laundry, it will be like carrying three or four. Sounds like a trip to Target is in my immediate future. I hope they have toenail clippers too.
-Grinner
My duffel bag came yesterday and I realized that I'm going to have to figure out a way to organize my stuff in it; otherwise it will be like traveling around with the equivalent of one big bag of jumbled laundry. On the Kilimanjaro climb, one couple brought along these very large heavy duty Glad storage bags. What I'm going to do is to get a few of those to help sequester some of my things. So instead of one big bag of laundry, it will be like carrying three or four. Sounds like a trip to Target is in my immediate future. I hope they have toenail clippers too.
-Grinner
Monday, April 18, 2011
T minus 5 days
It's Monday, and there's so much preparation that remains. I've one more day at work to go and the enormity of that still hasn't hit me. There were a few patients today that got me to thinking that come Wednesday, I will not have a job to go to. For the first time in my life, I will be "between jobs". It's a little scary. I really don't know quite what to expect. Clearly all this preparation for the bike trip has absorbed what little mental energies I have at this point. My next to final package arrived from Amazon today. A larger saddlebag, and some socks. Two days ago, I packed my suitcase and backpack with all of the suggested items and discovered that I was a mere 20# overweight. I ended up ditching the suitcase and ordered a duffel, which should arrive tomorrow from Amazon, which will save me 10#. The remainder will be made up by shipping some supplemental food items, (bars, blocks, recovery drink) ahead. I've got about 3 lists going in the house of items not to forget. I will soon need to start a list to keep track of my lists. Last night, I was in a panic because I couldn't find my toenail clippers. They're in the house somewhere. I have some confidence that they'll turn up. If not, it will be another trip to Walgreens.
-Grinner
-Grinner
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)