Scott: Starting Anew?

I find myself thinking about the trip quite often. I find my self caught in nostalgia every day really. I know there were a great many moments where we butted heads and moments of outstanding stupidity, but what do you expect when you're spending 24 hours a day with the same three people for almost four months. When it comes down to it this was the best summer of my life. Aside from that, I think, given the chance, we would not make the same stupid mistakes again.

I don't know what I expected after the trip. I suppose I wanted to come out of my shell and get out there into the real world. Now that I'm here I only yearn for another trip. I am a traveler and that is something I just can't be in New York. I've found myself at a cross roads. I don't exactly know what I would like to do with my life. Become a teacher, a sound engineer, a musician. Every day seems the same. I've been in the city for two months now, and the only places I see are my apartment, the gym, and the restaurant I work. That is not the life I signed up for. I'm being held back by fear. I'm always held back by fear of losing money or being rejected. Work always seems to win in the end.

The friendly smiles we received from strangers across the country have dissipated and I am left with the blank stares of people on the subway. I must say, being in the city when I'm not going to school is not the picture of perfection I thought it to be. I don't think the grass is always greener on the other side. I think the grass was greener on the side I had just been on.

The changes that I was supposed to go through. Those revelations we were supposed to have on the trip are coming into effect now. I'm not a city boy. I saw so much beauty over the summer, I don't see how I could turn my back on that. I always knew the importance of family and friendship, despite what some may think, or the communication which I haven't sustained over the years. The trip solidified my need for family and friends. I know more of what I want now. I want to travel. I want to remain close to the ones I love. I want to bring music to the world. Right now I am fulfilling none of those, but I intend to change that in the coming year. I'm going to get back out there and I'm going to reconnect as best I can. The truth is I fear I'll become boring. There's not much to engage the listener when you spend your time at home, at work, and at the gym.


As for the documentary, I sincerely hope we have the means to do another, whether it be a rafting trip down the Mississippi, hiking the Appalachian trail, or touring other continents on our bikes. I'd hope everyone this last summer would be willing to partake in future endeavors, but I know some may choose not to, so if Elliot has the means to come, I would be happy if he takes the place of riders who would not want to participate.

I love you all, and if any plans are in the making for trips come next November, count me in. If there aren't any, I'd be happy to start some. And whatever we do, we've got to get rid of the schedule. I think a wonderful summer would've been exponentially greater had we not had deadlines. Let the people we meet influence our time spent in one place and not the other way around. For now I am bound by a lease, but who knows where I'll be when it runs out.

Ryan: Sorry for the absence

First off, I know its December and we haven't written a blog in a very, VERY long time. But its never too late, right?

WE MADE IT!

The latter half of the trip consisted of many interesting moments and people... although it lacked Andy Junk. We met an incredible amount of people on the east coast, and a I think a big reason we let the blog go was because we were too involved in the moment (although we did catch a lot of it on camera, so that's a plus). We slept behind at least three movie theaters, were rained on too many times to count (FYI: biking with glasses in the rain is quite terrifying...) We saw a sunrise on the Atlantic (Stu and I took a dip, Scott and Matt were lame (and warmer than us) and Andy was not there)... We spent time in all the major cities and had several days exploring NYC (biking in cities is so much fun!).

There is really so much to write, its unfair to try and cram it all in. Just check out the Run-Down section, and if you have any questions, let me know.

I do want to take this opportunity to THANK YOU! If it weren't for all the help we received, this trip or this film would not have been possible.

We're in Post Production now and trying to get things together enough to get some Government and private Grants to help us complete the film. We biked across the country- and it was incredible, but there's still a lot of work to be done in order to complete this film.

I'm in the suburbs now living with mi madre. I work as a busboy at the Greek Islands. I'm not making enough money or doing work at a 'professional level' yet, and there have been times that I wish I were back on the bike, but I'm grateful for the experience and I can't wait to finish the film and share it with everyone.

Thank you again.

Ryan C. Kolegas

PS I might just start blogging about the post production process (but you all know how good I am at keeping a blog).

Andy: Shortcut

Hello, it's Andy, the guy who got off in Chicago. I went to Washington DC in a plane to visit girlfriend and here's a blog.

Ryan: The Big Blue Salty Puddle

We made it to the Atlantic!!! It was pretty awesome to see that massive amount of water, then to dive in it, then to get really cold but feel its necessary to body check some waves, then get out and have the water evaporate and salt crustify on your body (this must be what Stu feels like all the time...).

We've explored almost all of the places people have said to camp. Including but not limited to; Peoples yards, inside churches, outside churches, city parks, baseball field dugouts, behind movie theaters (we made this one up, but it works), in parks that are not necessarily public, highway rest stops, and on picnic tables... The two places we haven't stayed yet are the firehouse or a cemetery. We did however eat at a restaurant in Boonville, NY called the Hulbert house, and it is haunted... About time we found something haunted on this trip.

Short blog, weird right? I'm tired, we got up to see the sunrise this morning on the east coast (I usually get one sun rise in a year)... It was pretty spectacular though. Oh, and we called Andy from the Atlantic- he's in Washington D.C. visiting girlfriend, so I guess he beat us (using his calories inefficiently: DID YOU KNOW: the bicycle is the most efficient way for any animal to travel the most miles for the least amount of calories? Cars and batteries not included).

Ryan C. Kolegas

Ryan- Sweet home Chicago: And farewell

I know this is a little late to write about Chicago, but since we've been averaging about 100 miles a day in rainy weather across the midwest, I figure its better late than never...

Chicago was a great place to stop for a couple days. Our fund raiser was stellar and everybody got to see their family and friends.

(Just a suggestion, when you go on a cross country bike trip, move entirely out of your apartment first so that you don't have to spend hours and hours cleaning and moving when you're passing through your hometown).

It was so nice to feel support for this trip and this film from all the people I care about, yet there can never be enough time, so before I knew it we were on the road again.

Luckily, the few people who got word that we wanted to ride out with friends all showed up to the train station on Monday morning and 7 other people got to experience a typical day on the road (for about 10 or 15 miles). It started slow, we left about 30 minutes after said time, Matt rolled up with a flat that needed to be pumped, we went four blocks in about 10 minutes (lots of little stops), we went the wrong way down a one way, Stu endangered his own life, and then we finally got moving. Mid way through the trip Jimmy Robin got a flat tire, so we got to give him a crash course on flat fixin' on the road. About ten miles out most people turned back and a winner appeared- Dave Safford (my hero)... who stuck it out long enough to get the true pay off of riding: Ice Cream. Dave also fell into the Scott trap (where you try and keep up and Scott just keeps riding faster and faster. Needless to say, by the time we got ice cream, we were all ready for a little break).

It was so nice that people took the time to ride and to see us off. So to our fellow riders: Brian Morrison, Elliot Tagtmeier, Dave Safford, Jimmy Robin, Andy Junk, Rich Sandford, Larry Gress, Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed the ride.

On a side note... I finally believe Andy is quitting. I told him I wouldn't believe it until he rode with us and turned back. And sure enough he turned back. Bummer. (I don't know why he stopped blogging though- I'm still curious as to what he's up to).

The midwest was flat and awesome. We've met several farmers, while Matt or I change our flat tires (which have grown exponentially since Chicago), who have held fun conversations or offered us water on the side of the road. Other points I could touch on are:

* Drinking welch's grape juice from a farm that grows the grapes,
* Eating fresh apples from Apple Trees
* Days of misery- Wet and cold- The trip is finally legitimate (what's an adventure without misery?)
* Our longest day yet (and first real night ride) 128 miles
* Camping in people's yards- we have yet to be turned away, people are pretty incredible.
* Camping outside a motel, and outside a Mall (movie theatre).
* There's so much more, but there's some stuff you can ask us about if you wanna hear a story... Nighty night for now.

Sincerely,

Ryan C. Kolegas

Stuart: Cleveland, Oh hello!

We rode onto the rainy, empty streets of Cleveland on Sunday. Eventually, we found the lakeside path (reminiscent of Chicago) and sure enough a bicycle rider with huge legs caught up with us and engaged us in conversation. His name was Bill and he was a retired fire fighter who's lived in the Cleavland area for most of his life. We caught him on his daily 27-30 mile bicycle ride (not so bad considering he was over 60!), which coincidentally took him straight through the city to the east side of town, in the exact direction we needed to go. It also happened that his house was a half mile off the road and he had some orange juice that he was willing to share with us so he invited us over for a glass. Bill poured us some orange juice, got out a whole assortment of nuts and seeds, fruit and offered us beer too! It was quite the feast and he told us that he likes to pass on the kindness that he received when he went on a long bicycle tour in the 1970s with his friend (so it was a glimpse into our future). He told us funny stories about being a fireman, like when a “big-boned” woman got hopelessly stuck between her toilet and the bathtub. They tried everything, oil, grease, tugging, but at last they had to shut off the water and take out the toilet. He said those stories were the ones they try and hold on to because there were gruesome stories too that are still difficult to deal with. We had such a good time over there, we invited him to come along (after he said that he wanted to), but it turned out he couldn't because his girlfriend from Florida was flying in to visit for a month. It was a bummer for us, but great for him. Stuffed with nuts, fruits and orange juice, we left Bill in his cozy, dry home for the soaking wet outside world. It was tough. Thanks Bill!

Ryan: Concrete Land

So let me tell you a story about an adventure... It all starts at the City Museum in St. Louis; If you don't know, the city museum is one of the most incredible places ever to have been created. It was built by an artist (Bob) who has ideas- incredible ideas, that he follows... To give you an idea of the museum I'll say this, there's a 17ft Praying mantis on the roof, along with a school bus and a crane (12 stories up). The inside has caves, re bar tunnels, hollowed out trees, and a gigantic whale in the middle of it (originally the museum was going to be an aquarium)... Anyway, you can climb on or through ANYTHING. Meaning if you can fit, you can go. The only rules were "the City Museum is not responsible for injuries, no running, have fun" Needless to say it is a giant playground for the young and the old. I loved it, every second. I woke up a little sore from all the climbing, but it was so worth it.

On to Concrete land: we were leaving St. Louis after hearing of Bob's next project; Concrete land. Naturally we wanted to find it, all we had heard is its incredible, there are two lakes and Bob goes there to bulldoze all the time. Off of our bike path we see it. So it was time to explore. We went through the gate to find a massive amount of stuff... Stuff being abandoned school buses,a couple planes, dilapidated buildings, piles of trash, etc etc... We begin to explore, make our way higher for a better view when the art begins to shine through. Some of the old buildings have been transformed into Castles. They'd taken rubble and re built it on the outside to resemble outstanding structures. From there we see a chimney. A huge tower hovering over the rest of "Concrete land." Below the chimney is a bulldozer, accompanied by a man with a distraught look on his face. It was Bob. And his 'Dozer' was stuck. We had to meet him. So we went down to say hello (Adam had already introduced himself and begun helping Bob with his dozer). We walk up and the first thing Bob says is "your doing a trip about experience, huh?" "You should go climb the chimney." Andy and I looked at each other, then back at Bob and said "is that ok? See ya in a few" and raced off to conquer the feat.

After 170 ladder rungs (270 feet) one begins to realize how difficult it actually is
to climb a ladder. We got to the top and saw a view of the city skyline that few people have seen. Then my arms cramped up. We spit a couple times and dropped some pebbles, then were ready to climb down. Half way down Bob yells up "there's some loose bricks at the top you can throw down if you'd like" (but it we were already on our way down).

Bobs plan is to build all the abandoned buildings into castles, make a spiral staircase up the chimney, and flood the whole area with water. Then he wants to take targets and place them in the water so people can throw stuff from the top of buildings and try and hit the targets... He's also going to connect all the buildings with bridges...

I was inspired. I want to help Bob build this incredible place. It was an adventure and a half- and so close to home.

Ryan C. Kolegas

PS we'll be stopping in the Chicago land area in like two days... I'm so stoked.

Scott: Just Giving a Shout Out

Uhhh. . . yeah. I'm just giving a shout out to Margaret and Becca. We met them in Kansas City.

Not to be confused with Maggie K. and Becca S.

STUART: The deadliest trees are the dead trees

We set up camp in a city park and I decided to sleep under the stars on top of a concrete picnic table. At about 12:30 I woke up to some enormously large winds and watched the trees above my head sway from the gusts. There was a live tree by my feet and a dead one by my head. I figured if I saw them start to fall on me, I'd just roll under the table. The gusts got faster and louder in the next 15 minutes and were accompanied by lightning. Little thuds kept getting closer and closer to me and gave me the impression that an animal was coming towards me. The steps were irregular and came from different areas, but as the thuds started getting alarmingly close and I saw what they were, with the illumination of lightning. They were pieces of bark from the dead trees being blown down to the earth. I realized how unsafe my situation was so I got up from the table and hopped in my sleeping back over to the covered area, taking my water, Louis L'amour book, and left my wallet (good prioritizing). I had only covered ten feet with my hopping before a giant piece (4 feet long and maybe 2 feet wide) was blown off the tree and landed a couple feet from where my head was on the table. Glad I moved.

STUART: Obamarama

We stopped in a supermarket in Lincoln, Kansas and a man came up to Scott and me. This is the conversation that ensued.
“Where you guys from?”
“Chicago.”
"Scotland?"
"Chicago."
“Ah, Obama country, eh? You like that guy?”
“Yeah. Do you not?”
“I don't like either of them, but I sure as hell don't want no Muslim for president,” and then he drove away.

Andy: Chicago

Well, after around 70 days on the road, and what will be over 4300 miles, I'm pretty sick of bicycle touring. That's why I've decided to end my Summer tour early in Chicago (my home). The rest of the gang will be going on to the East, but I'll be moving to New York in a couple months, and want to spend some time at home with my family and Chicago friends before taking off for that other big city.

Touring was fun, and I have no regrets. Actually, I plan on biking solo to New York in October, so I'll get my coast to coast ride, with a nice little breather. It's not what we planned, but oh well.

As far as I know, the rest of the gang is going the distance, all the way to DC as originally planned, and I'm sure they'll have a great time. While I'm sad to leave my friends, I'm really happy to leave my friends.

Thanks for the support! USA! USA!

We'll be in Chicago between the 26th and 29th. See you then!

PS if anyone know a bikable route to New York from Chicago that doesn't get a lot of snow, shoot me a message.

Kansas my Beautiful

Ok, so this is dedicated to all the amazing people we've met in Kansas.

I want to start off by saying our expectations for Kansas- downhill (or flat at least) filled with a tail wind and incredibly quick days (this is why I don't like expecting things because expectations are rarely fulfilled).

In Reality- Kansas is filled with rolling hills and a wind coming from the south east (Which was exactly the direction we were heading). Everything was made ok because of the people we've met.

Lets see what I can remember since there has been so much incredibleness.

• First full day in Kansas we're riding down the street and a truck (about three or four blocks down the road) is waiting at an intersection to turn left. We're all saying to ourselves, "you have time... you can turn... We're not that fast...you still have time" so he waits all the way until we pass so that he can clap for us as we pass... it made my day.

• Lunch Break- Oakley swimming pool. The day was already filled with happiness, but for the first time over the summer I felt like a real boy (thank you blue ferry). We went off diving boards, water slides, had a hand stand competition, it was like a normal summer day. (sorry side tracked).

• That night we stayed in a city park. Winds got up to 85 mph, Stu almost died (according to him, I don't think he would have died. I'll let him tell you the story)

• Following day- We met the Mayor of Zurich. We were simply riding like normal, and a man yells "You're in Kansas! Whoo! Want a beer?" Stu immediately stops and we all go over to join the man for a beer. Then as we were leaving he said, "when you come back make sure to stop back by the mayors house!"

• That night- Paradise Kansas lived up to its name. We ride up (right at/after sunset) and find the Jeep. We see a man driving across the street (and were slightly confused). Apparently his neighbor had seen the jeep and thought she was being followed, so the man grabbed his gun just in case... He came over and saw five guys in spandex and immediately put his gun away. We told him we were going to the city park so he said he'd call the mayor and make sure the bathroom doors were open. We get to the park and he says "hang tight, let me see if I can find a place for you guys to stay." As we're waiting outside in the mosquito infested park the man drives to see if we could stay in his son's vacation house. Sure enough he comes back and leads us to his son's vacant vacation house. We had showers, cooked our pasta on a stove, watched the Olympics, and slept on one of the nicest, most comfortable couches I've ever experienced. When the man was asked why he showed us such incredible kindness, he responded "That's just what we do. I wouldn't want to sleep out there with those mosquitos." We told him we'd be out by 9am, but didn't end up leaving until 11am... Paradise is incredible.

• I know this is getting long, but I told you Kansas is remarkable. So we rode from Paradise to Lincoln (46mi) and were going to stop for lunch and keep going. Their pool was closed, but we went to a grocery store where we met a man who invited us to his bar (which he's selling if anyone is interested, its a sweet place) for a beer and to tell him about our trip. Before we knew it we were all playing instruments (including the man and his son) and the sun was quickly falling. He then invited us to camp in his back yard. When we arrive at his house, he invites us to sleep in his house. So again we get warm showers, an opportunity to watch the Olympics (not to mention swap stories with this incredible dude) and beds for us to sleep in! Lincoln is spectacular...

Pretty much Kansas his been filled with weather that we didn't expect, hills that we thought would be plains, and some of the most incredible people we've met on the road so far. I've left out some key interactions, but I'm sure the gaps will be filled in eventually. We're almost out of Kansas though, and let me tell you Missouri, you have a lot to live up to.

Ryan C. Kolegas

PS We rode through clouds of gnats (they looked like fog from a distance it was insane), I saw a hawk from like 10 ft away (it was huge), there are lots of dead turtles, And there's a crazy jumping spider that I've seen several times that has a body the size of a quarter and very long legs (it reminds me of the spiders from arachnophobia, but it jumps). And the kids we've met at pools are hilarious.

Andy: Families (The Truth)

WARNING to PARENTS. This Blog contains the FACTS. If you're not ready to let you children know the TRUTH, then throw you computer AWAY, because I can't be held responsible for your FEAR.

Hey Kids!
When I tell you little guys about how we stayed with some of Stu's family in Denver, I get a lot of confused looks and vacant stares. “Family” that's a tough one, huh. We've been hearing an awful lot about “families” on the news recently, and I know it might be weird or awkward to talk to you parents about it but before you go getting “family” tattooed on your knee, or carving “family” into the mantle above your fireplace underneath all the bones, I think you ought to know exactly what a family is.

A family is a perfectly natural thing, everybody has them for the most part and it's nothing to get upset over or giggle about. Still,before you shut off your Desktop and hit the snooze button on your brain, you should know that I'm a cool dude. I recognize that talking about families of people might be a bit strange so I'll just be talking about families of pandas.

Say you have this panda. Now, if this panda has a panda best friend, then that's a family. (not too tough huh, buds.;-)) Now, if these two pandas have a pet of some kind, like a cat, or a two cats, then that's not a family, unless one of the pandas or both of the cats smokes. If I take a Panda, cut it in half, and then two pandas grow, but one of them if the inverse of the first one, then that's not a family, unless they have a cat, or neither of them smokes. A panda and a pack of cigarettes are a family. Not two cats though, unless they have pet panda. If a panda eats a cat, and a cigarette, then smokes, then that's a family.

Got it?

Now that we've got that cleared up, we stayed with Stu's family in Denver, they were incredible and I love tacos.

Andy: Yellowstone National Theme Park

In my life, I can think of three times when I knowingly walked into a situation where I knew I was being ripped off but didn't turn away:

1.
When I was very young Jimmy Milashus offered me a Hertz Doughnut for 50 cents. I knew it wasn't going to be a doughnut, but I didn't know it was going to be a punch in the butt. RIPOFF!

2.
When I worked at Family video, one of my fellow employee's boyfriend came in with an "incredible deal" featuring fancy watches, sunglasses and cologne that he had on sale for an "amazing price." The watch had a bunch of dials on it, which I was assured were "very important and useful" and I soon realized were "very glued on and false." I wasn't going to buy the watch, but then this man with a gun busted in and told everyone to hit the floor. He fired two shots into the ceiling and that let in a flock of pigeons which started eating all the New Releases (starting with Zoolander and Sexy Sci fi B-movie starring someone named "Zeusy") This dude was serious, and after I hit the panic button I informed him that he had five minutes before the cops showed up and busted his ass. He was all "I have no idea how long that will be," and then we became friends just because we did. His name was Bruno. I bought the watch package for my new friend, Bruno, and started the timer. 5 minutes to go. Oh no! But the hole in the ceiling! It's too bright! Good thing I bought that sweet pair of knockoff Raybans so I could see the cash register while Bruno grabbed the cologne spraying it liberally at the vicious pigeons which, upon finishing the Nearly New section, had the discerning taste to spare the Foreign and Classic films and went straight for the cash.

We escaped from that hellhole with 2 million in unmarked bills. But I paid 25 for that watch and it broke the next day. RIPOFF!

3.
My Family and I went to Gatlinburg Tennesee for vacation. RIPOFF!


There is one more time that exists in recent memory:

Yellowstone National Park is one of our country's greatest treasures, which is probably why it has been hijacked by pirates who charge 12 dollars at the gate per head, for bikers. That's not too unreasonable though, if camping is included. No no though, this isn't "Reasonable Land where everything makes sense." This is Yellowstone National Park, land of beautiful horizons and fascinating natural phenomenon, all surrounded by luscious rusty fences and sweet stuffed things that cost more than uninsured hip replacement surgery (which, at least when it's done, you have a new hip, and a sweet scar (instead of a wallet with more space for long, fee-decorated camping receipts. )). So, anyways, camping cost us a collective 33 bucks (a new record!)

At Old Faithful, Stu bought the most expensive cup of Ramen I'd ever seen and when he asked at the cafe for a cup of hot water, he was told something to the extent of 'No way, we have whole families of Asians trying to pull that one on us.' This man would not give us a CUP OF HOT WATER at OLD FAITHFUL! HOT WATER LITERALLY SHOOTS UP FROM THE GROUND EVERY HOUR HERE!!!!!

Unacceptable.

The Moral of the Story is:

Those who go to Yellowstone.... shouldn't.

61 days till DC (or someplace near there.)

Ryan: Lovely Luscious Lander, WY

We made it to Lander, WY- Which we've heard very good things about. It took us two days to get from Yellowstone to Lander, and in the mean time Andy had a rough day and the group split up once again...

Anywho, we arrive in Lander for a long awaited rest day at 4p.m. In the first ten minutes we found a place to shower, do laundry, camp (for free in the city park) and a Dominos (which has a 3 for $5.55 deal- sweet when you're on a budget)... Andy and Matt ended up making it to Lander by 7:30p.m. (after riding 113mi) and we'd accomplished most of the Chores that needed to get done.

The real story comes after we saw "Wanted" (which I worked on (as a PA)for a Day- its a crazy movie, but I was entertained, movies are great when you're biking 80 to 100mi a day).

Anywho, we go back to camp around 11:30p.m, talk with Andy a little bit and start tossing a frisbee (since there's a light in the park and no one was really tired). We're about ready to retire for the evening and a girl walks over. Everyone sits down and begins to talk with the girl about nothing special. Stu and Andy were just talking (about nonsense mostly: I'm pretty sure Hand-Underwear was discussed) and the girl (Afton) was laughing at the extremely strange conversation.

After about 15 or 20 minutes I realized we still had no idea of her story. Apparently her bike had just gotten stolen and she is in the process of running away from the "group home" (I don't really understand what that means). Someone asks, "So what brought you this way" and she responds "I was hoping to find a place to sleep tonight."

At this point I see everyone's face droop a little and no one really knows what to do. We're all tired and soon enough Andy says he's going to his tent, and Scott and Stu do the same. I see the girl curl up against the tree to go to bed... I didn't want her to freeze and since I was kicked out of the three person tent 'cause I roll and kick so much, I had room in my tent. I gave her my sleeping bag for the night and bundled up so that I wouldn't freeze either.

She was kind of bummed about her position in life right now because she has no family to go to but is trying to start a life of her own. I told her if she starts looking at it like and adventure then she's set. She's so FREE! No financial responsibility, no home, all she has to worry about is eating- she can do whatever she wants! (I was kind of fascinated about the whole situation).

So the conversation ends and we're about to fall asleep when we hear whispers (I assume its Adam and Mark setting up the their tent). All of a sudden somebody jumps on my tent. I holler, "What the f*ck?" and get out of the tent as quick as I can unzip and climb out.... problem was my glasses weren't on so the sounds of people running are not accompanied by images so there was nothing I could do...

My tent poles are bent and everybody gets out to search for the culprit... Probably some punk kids playing a joke. Then, Afton explains that the first of the month is "Gang initiation day" (which in a town of less than 7000 people is a strange thing to think about)...

The rest of the night we hear noises of horses outside (and keep thinking its the punk kids coming back)... then it slowly gets colder and colder and I become more aware of how much I like my sleeping bag and how I only have so many layers to put on to make up for lending it out for the night(tonight I'm wearing socks)...

The next morning, everyone wakes up and attempts to wake me up. I only had about a half hour of sleep so once the sun came up and it got warmer I just wanted to keep sleeping... sure enough there's construction right next to the park. go figure.

So today my fingers were crossed that she finds somewhere else to stay so that I can actually sleep somewhat before we ride tomorrow. Then we find out another factor to the story. A woman approaches Adam and asks him if that girl had a bike, he says "I think she did, but it got stolen." At his point Afton sees the woman and begins to walk away. The woman sees this, says, "She's on the move," and snaps her fingers. Two other girls (who are pretending to rest in the middle of the field) start to head her off...

I haven't been back to camp yet, and I don't know the whole story, but it looks like Afton is no longer there. She has, however, left us with a Crazy night in Lander and an unexpected experience.

Long blog. Thanks for reading...

Ryan C. Kolegas

Andy: Separatists.

Ooooohhhhh okay! NOW I understand how the Pilgrims felt when they crossed the big ocean in the Mayflower. Before I didn't. but now I do.

Wow, (said the People) Andy must have been a part of a Separatist movement. Just like the Pilgrims! Hmmm... I'll bet that due to Scott's sickness, Andy and Matt went ahead with the knowledge that Scott, Stu, and Ryan would travel in two days what it takes the duo in three. Yeah, (the People continued) Andy and Matt SEPARATATED from the group just like the Pilgrim's separated from England. They probably biked ahead to a town called Missoula, Montana, and got passed on the way by a hitchhiking Scott who didn't feel up to for the ride yet. Yeah, (the People said, getting close to concluding) Andy's probably waiting in a Coffee shop in Missoula for Ryan and Stu with the Goodhart Brothers.


Well guess what (this is Andy now, not the People), You people are WRONG! I'm waiting in a coffee shop AND BAKERY! Boy are you guys dumb! I practically fed you People the answer, I mean I mentioned the PILGRIMS! That screams "Bakery."

Boy, I was going to write all about Matt and my adventures away from the pack, but now I don't even know if you People are smart enough to read!

Yeah that will be it then....

Oh wait, but what about all the intelligent ANIMALS that read these blogs, they probably knew that I was waiting in a coffee shop and Bakery and not just a stand alone coffee shop.

Okay Animals, here you go:

Scott was sick. Andy and Matt are slow. We figured that Matt and I should go ahead so as to avoid getting woefully behind schedule.

Our plan was to go 55 to 70 miles each day for three days. That would get us to Missoula. The others were going to leave a day later and book it to meet us in two days.

BORING BORING.

I got drunk in hot springs

YEAH YEAH

Matt and I rode to missoula in two days instead of one.

BORING

Ummm.... I got a new wheel

BORING BORING BORING

I..... ummmmm.... I fought.... a ummmm.. I fed a Unicorn a handful of bees and she turned into a portal to Disneyland.

YEAH!

Mickey Mouse and I were playing Poker and he was losing big time. He offered me Minnie's hand in marriage. And I won!

YEAH THAT'S THE STUFF!!

Minnie transformed into a turtle, so now I'm married to a turtle! (which I suppose is only slightly worse that being married to a mouse.

OKAY... NOT AS STRONG.

And then..... Explosion. Everything blows up.

YEAH! ENDS STRONG!


Okay, I'm rereading this thing and it is clear that I am getting sleepy. I could go back and fix it, make it comprehensible... but I don't think I want to do that right now. Or ever.

Love and Kissys for all eternity,

Andy J.

Scott: So many days in Grangeville

Day One: Arrive.

Day Two: Happy birthday Ryan. Stu accidentally lit his fuel on fire, which was pretty awesome.

Night Two: On the toilet. Above the toilet. Walk to the drinking fountain. Shake uncontrollably. Walk back. Repeat for ten hours.

Day Three: Rent motel room. Sleep as much as possible. Food all gone. Condition improves to "on toilet only." High fever. Friends bring soup and yogurt. I love friends. Hear bits of commercials on T.V. "Yogurt is good for the stomach. Be careful of meningitis - starts out with flu-like symptoms."

Day Four: Matt and Andy go ahead. I try to eat food, and get about one fourth of the way through. Stomach feels only a bit uneasy. Condition improves to blistering headache and stiff neck. (not to the point of meningitis) Leave the motel room once for food. Renew room for the night.

Day Five: To be decided. Stomach not at 100%, but we desperately need to catch up. Headache gone. I'll give it a go and try to eat a lot this morning. Next 70 miles no services. I'm not eating hot dogs again. Probably ever.

Any suggestions on good things to eat for the next couple of weeks?

Stuart: Have you ever seen a woolly mammoth?

Well, after traveling up a grueling hill, we arrived right outside of Grangeville, Idaho. On the side of the road, there was a highway sign that read WOOLLY MAMMOTH SITE NEXT RIGHT 4 Miles. Andy had heard about it and really wanted to go see the mammoth, but 4 miles out of the way means 8 more miles total to get back to the main road, and on an awful, loose-gravel road, that means about 50 minutes of bicycle riding. Scott and Matt decided to just ride into town and set up camp. Ryan, Andy and I were of the opinion that 50 minutes of tushy-torture has to be worth seeing a huge, prehistoric creature amidst the farmlands of Idaho.

We called the sheriff in town to let him know we were camping there and then asked him about the site. He was extremely unenthusiastic and said, "Well, its pretty historical, if you like that kind of stuff." After hearing that it was super unimpressive, we knew we had to go whatever distance it took to see it.

On the gravel road, we kept following a maze of signs which had only a picture of a huge-tusked, rearing-up woolly mammoth and an arrow pointing us where to turn. After 4 miles of suspense, and fantasizing about seeing a roaring mammoth with long hair, all encased and preserved in a gigantic ice block, we reach a lake with a small picture of a mammoth and some fishermen. Ryan hurriedly asks them, "So, where are the woolly mammoths?" To which they respond, "There are about 15 of them... under this water. You can see the mammoths in town though about 4 blocks off the main street." The highway sign flashed through my mind, WOOLLY MAMMOTH SITE, and I realized that it was the archeological type of site (contrary to the impressive pictures along the side the road, which lead me to think of the giant ice encased creature).

Then, when we finally got to the town of Grangeville, we checked out the actual woolly mammoth site and we saw a replica of a woolly mammoth skeleton (not the real bones or anything). So to answer my own question, no, I haven't seen a woolly mammoth, but I have seen a site that probably has a whole bunch of bones in it (even though I haven't actually seen the bones). What an elusive creature.

Ryan- Birfday wonders

So, my Birfday was the 19th, and it reminded me of something (as it does every year)- MY FRIENDS ARE INCREDIBLE...

The day started off normal, like any other day, or birthday... It wasn't too special, in fact I was feeling kind of lethargic. It was our first free day in like ten days and we all had no idea what to do with our time... I had some business to take care of, but that was about it.

The original plan was to see BATMAN; DARK KNIGHT on my B-day, but the town did not have it playing. It wasn't a big deal, but my friends all could see I was disappointed. So, we went to the Grocery store and bought a ridiculous amount of food... We were having 6 chili cheese dogs (per person), chips and dip (I love dip... I don't know why, but I recently discovered I really like dipping and eating things), Ice cream (which we had to eat first 'cause it was melting), and a 12 case of Dr West (Which is Dr. Pepper, but out west). The 6 dogs turned into a challenge, in fact I think Scott was the only one who ate all 6.

At some point I turned to Andy and said, "I have to go to the bathroom," he looked back at me and said "oh, I"ll keep you company," then he turned to everyone else and said "hey guys, Ryan's got to go to the bathroom," and sure enough they all started following me... I was really confused why all my friends wanted to watch me while nature called. I said "this is weird, but whatever." Funniest part was that I didn't question it beyond that, they've conditioned me to understand they're weird.

Anyway, I get to the bathroom (a public bathroom in a park, mind you) and there are about 50 mini paper plates and streamers all over the walls. Each plate had a different drawing on them, some of insects, some of bikers, a Killer Unicorn Fractal, etc... and on the wall written through drawings it said "Happy B-Day Ryan."

What a surprise. It made my day... The food, the plates, the call of nature, everything just made it an awesome birthday.

Then we went to see THE INCREDIBLE HULK and INDIANA JONES at a drive in (apparently there's only 53 in the US). It was perfect.

The end

Ryan C. Kolegas

Stu: The Speed Of Butterflies

When riding up hills, we go slightly slower than the speed of butterflies. They flutter in circles around me, until they get really bored or are hit by large trucks passing by. When riding down the hills we go pretty much the same speed as Andy does when driving on a highway (45 mph). Recently, we rode up to Santiam Pass and down to Sisters, Oregon on 126.

In Sisters, we stopped at a bar named Scoots. The bar was very new and had a big sign by the door that read, “Bikers Welcome,” which we realized was not for people like us, but for motorcyclists (pronounced motor-sickle in some northwest towns). Our spandex shorts and somewhat wussy gait surely gave us away as the other kind of cyclist.

Anyways, even though we weren't their target clientèle, people were still pretty friendly and we met some dudes named Aric (yup, with an A) and Ted. They were red-haired brothers who loved their town, the bar, and drinking in the bar a whole lot. Eric and Ted insisted that we go to the top of these rocks so we could see the most beautiful sunset in the world. They were pretty floppy, so they got their friends to drive Andy, and I to the famed place. When we got in the car, we learned that the driver, a very nice woman, had just rolled her car over the day before. Luckily she survived with only a minor loss, the tip of her middle finger. We got to see pus-ridden pictures of it on her cell phone. It was all oozy, bloody and awesome. They took us to the top of the rocks and we could see mountains all around us, 360 degrees, including the one we had just rode over. I can't describe how panoramically-picture-postcard-esque the view was, so I won't.

After the sun was pretty much done setting, they drove us back to the bar and showed us a game that they play while driving down the big hill. Basically, they put their car in neutral and coast down the hill into the town. That means they hit the first couple blind turns at 50-ish which causes them to take extra wide turns, using both lanes of the road. The driver got some cold feet though (perhaps because of her extremely recent accident) and used some brakes, so we didn't make it. Bummer. When we got back to the bar Aric and Ted proceeded to feed the juke-box money to sing their favorite Sublime and Queen tunes at the top of their lungs until the morning came (I can only assume because we left before the bar closed). In conclusion, we owe an exciting night in Sisters, Oregon to Aric and Ted, two sweet dudes who love where they live and love to show it off with reckless abandon.

Andy: Frustration

We all know the feeling. The kids have finally gone off to bed, the dog's overnight at the vet for some fungal thing, and the Old Man stopped flicking buttons at your window for one reason or another. You have the house to yourself, and there is only one thing on your mind: Bacon. You want to eat bacon at 11:00 PM because damnit, it's your house, and you're hungry for a BLT with no mayo. Good thing you went to the store to pick up a few savory strips this afterno-- Oh wait. You forgot. No bigs, you can just hire the weird kid with the eye patch to carry you to the store, it will only take ten minutes, then you'll be in Bacon Heaven (which is like regular heaven, but it's covered with a thick layer of delicious.) Oh wait. The store closed at 11:09. No bacon. But at least the eye patch kid waited to carry you ho--- Oh wait. He left. Now you have to walk the two blocks. Well, your night isn't totally ruined, they're showing reenactments of the Michael Jackson Trial on E! and it's verdict night! There's still hop-- Oh wait. E! got taken over by angry unionized janitors and they're picketing right in front of the cameras. There is nothing left for you. Just go to bed. You have wake up to work at the factory tomorrow for less than minimum wage.

So, what does that story have to do with Andy's Bicycle riding experience? One thing: Frustration. My spoke broke (which rhymes and leads one to believe that the experience of a dismembered wheel is goofy and fun instead of dumb and boring.) It happened only one time at least, which was nice. Except that after I fixed it, it broke again, so I guess I was lying when I said it broke only once. Oh well. Riding with a broken spoke causes the wheel to get all wobbly pobbly and graze the brakes during each rotation. This constant lack of momentum made the Already-Slow-Andy transform into the Magically Unreasonably-Slow-Andy.

So I got the spoke fixed again, this time professionally (I was taking no chances). but the repetitive grinding against the brakes required me to get new brake pads as well (although the prospect of being unable to stop is intriguing in an addicted-to-risk sort of way.) So, how could I prevent this from becoming a regular weekly ritual? I had too much weight on the back of my bike, and I needed to redistribute. The solution? Front rack and front panniers.

Okay, now, I go to four different bike shops in the area and find one with a front rack, and so I bought it. Little did I know that this particular rack had one feature I didn't see on the box: Sucking. It was complicated to put together and eventually I gave up and went back to one more bike shop looking for an easier solution (like hiring a wizard to turn me into a bird so I could fly into the sun).

MEANWHILE, The source of the excessive rear weight, my beloved Banjo, had a busted string and literally drooped out the back of my bike like a depressed doggy tail, bungeed down so it could not wag. Without the high D, it's as useless as a box of mushrooms in an Andy Factory (I don't care for mushrooms).

I was upset and setting the whole team hours behind schedule with my shennanigans.

How does one recover from such profound frustration? Well, for me, the answer came in the form of the my idiot friends and the Blue Heron, a little bike shop in downtown Eugene. I returned my dumb rack and got a smart one, plus two crappy panniers that will do any trick I ask them to, then a couple of dummies I ride bikes with got me my B-jo string as a nice surprise. Thanks morons. Have fun on the Stupid train to Buttville.

I'm feeling good now, so I don't want your pity. Give that to the poor (instead of food).

PS, I love you family. This blog was for you. I am actually having fun, I promise.

Loves and Kissys.
Andy Junk

Ryan:

Haven't been on here in a while and to be honest, I have no idea what to write... Oregon basically encapsulates four or five other states. From leaving Astoria on the fourth of July we passed through coastal towns, Colorado-esque landscape, Midwest (rolling hills), and Arizona (dry and deserty... although if it were desserty I'd be happy, Stu wouldn't, he's a salty friend who doesn't like sweets).

We biked nearly 800 miles since we left Vancouver and only have about 6000 left. Days feel like weeks and weeks feel like months because the days seem so long. We shoot to get up at 8 every morning, but we take FOREVER to get ready and usually get out late. Then we ride through the heat of the day- Brilliant.

Andy hit some bike problems, broke a couple of spokes, and decided he had too much weight on his back tire, so he got a front rack and some front saddle bags.

This is not an entertaining Blog at all, sorry, I just woke up.

We've met some extraordinary people and have stayed some cool places. We've camped behind a grocery store, in several people's yards, in a city park in Vancouver Canada, on the side of a couple roads, and in several state parks.

Here's a story; we were by Castle Rock Washington and had no place to stay despite the setting sun. We saw a house and decided we'd knock on the door. A sign said "Trespassers will be shot, survivors will be shot again"... we could only assume that the owner of such a hilarious sign was joking, so Stu and I started up the block long driveway. Half way up the drive we stumbled upon a gate that we are a little weary to cross. We see a neighbor outside next door, so Stu yells to him and tells him our situation, and that we have no place to stay. The extremely nice man calmly explains, "I wouldn't keep going up that driveway, he doesn't take too kindly to trespassers. Come on over I'll get ya'll set up."

What a nice man, he saved Stu and I from a possible bullet. Thanks again Pat, Patti and Dixie.

Long post.

Ryan C. Kolegas

Scott: Showers...or lack there of.

It's been six days now. Six days without a shower, and we are in need of them. This wouldn't be all that bad in the “real world.” In the “real world,” when you spend your summer afternoons on the couch watching t.v., you can go months without a shower and years without washing your clothes. I know. I've done it. Here, on the open road, it is a different story. Stuart Seale of the Seale family in Downers Grove, Illinois believes that this is the humans' natural state. We don't need showers. Our four fathers didn't have showers, and neither did the cave people they came from. The rest of us disagree. Matt was actually willing to spend money to take a shower yesterday, and that's where my frustration comes.

We've stayed at quite a few campsites here in Washington, and all of the campsites we stayed at have had shower access. One problem. They want you to pay for hot water. Well I for one, refuse. I can get a cold shower by standing in the rain. Hot water should be included in the price of a campsite, and I would rather smell, and be sticky, and have dirt plastered to my legs than pay one quarter for 1.20 of hot water. What if there's a warm up period? What if 1.20 turns in to 0.20? What if I spend the extra 0.20 adjusting the water to be the perfect temperature? Bam! The water is cold again and I owe another quarter. It's not worth it. Hot water is a right. Not a privilege - and I want to exercise my rights as a human being.

Matt has reached his breaking point, but I believe the rest of us can stay strong. As long as we're brushing our teeth, we'll be okay. In the “real world,” when you spend your summer afternoons on the couch watching t.v., you can go months without brushing your teeth. I know. I've done it. But here on the open road, sometimes you just want to be clean.

Scott: Nature

In the beginning I could describe every little nuance of a place just by having a glimpse of it along our trail. The world was spectacular and I wanted to take it all in. Now, I can think of nature in the same way I think of violence on T.V. Once you've seen a certain amount of it, your mind becomes numb. What was once spectacular is now mundane. What was beautiful is now insignificant-insignificant as our lives here on earth. Everything is so dull now and all I want is a shower. But more than a shower for me, I really want Stu to take a shower. He's so salty. That's his superpower. (saltiness)

Ryan: superpower – Smart. (smartest friend)
Matt : superpower – Easygoing
Andy: superpower – Gassy...Really really gassy.
Scott: superpower – Fast and attractive
Stu: superpower – Noted above

I'm beginning to hate my so-called “friends.” They're so whiny. But like my mom, I just tune them out. At night they drink and I go to bed. Tonight I am going to read. You know what I'm reading? The Princess Bride. You know what whiny Andy is reading? King Lear. He says it's sad. “Boo hoo. I'm Andy and I'm going to cry over this wonderful Shakespearean play.”

What I like better than nature are movies. We saw WALL.E. It was beautiful. More beautiful than any real life event could ever be. It makes me want to be in love. Not human love though. Robot love. I want to hold hands with a robot. You'll understand when you see the movie, and you should definitely see the movie.

But for serious, everything is gravy. Tomorrow we're having biscuits and gravy. They're almost as good as robot love.

Ryan: The Smartest Friend

I've been declared the smartest friend. Andy was really cautious of me biking with my knee all out of wack. He said that if I get to Vancouver and I can bike with the group I'll be the smartest friend, but if I get there and I can't bike I'm the stupidest friend... Well needless to say, I'm biking. The knee's still not perfect, but its bike-able. I figured it would be worse to not bike at all and then jump in on a long day, so I've been working the strength up. Apparently it worked, or is working- therefore I am the smartest friend...

On the ride down from Vancouver I got my first flat with Audrey (my bike). Funny thing was, I changed it out with a tube Scott gave me a while back. That tube apparently also had a hole in it. Three tire changes later we were back on our way and my back wheel was slightly untrue (meaning it had a bend/wave in it)...

I decided I was going to try ad fix it myself. Everyone said it was a bad idea, but I wanted to try, so this morning I sat down before we rolled out to try and fix it. Right off the bat I made it better, but then I continued messing with it and before I knew it the tire looked like it was run over by a car and was spinning all crazy. I just started to laugh, it was no longer bike-able...

We were trying to figure out the options, I could take a bus to the closest city with a bike shop, or try and hitch-hike.... Finally I decided to give it another go, and at least make it ride-able. So I sat down and did it again. Now my wheel is as true as ever and I have redeemed myself as " THE SMARTEST FRIEND"

Ryan C . Kolegas

Ryan: The Worst Bike Rider

So its official. I am the worst bike rider.

It started with the knee incident. Apparently my seat was too low, or I was standing too much, or a compilation of a bunch of things... All the same, I busted my knee and opened myself up for everyone to tell me how to ride a bike... best part is, I have to grit my teeth and listen, its the price I pay for being a terrible bike rider... So that was the first part.

On to following in a group... apparently I don't follow in the right spot, so when I'm behind Scott I get in his blind spot on accident, then he speeds up, then I try and keep pace (which is hilarious with a knee injury. Have you ever seen somebody limp while riding a bike? Its pretty hilarious), then everyone else is like "What the hell got into them?" MORAL: I Can't follow Scott anymore... When I lead, I always feel like I'm not going fast enough (probably because Scott is a machine and there's just no shaking him), so I end up going too quick (which is also bad for my knee)... MORAL: I can't lead.

Final funny story about poor bike riding... I had the first accident of the trip yesterday. We had just made it to Vancouver and were riding on a bike trail. Every time there was a driveway or something there'd be a four foot metal pool in the middle of the path... we were cruising, the order was Scott, Stu, Ryan, Andy, then Matt... Well, I don't really know how it happened, but all of a sudden there was a pole, I screamed a percussive two word curse starting with"Oh" and ending with "Quieting somebody before a pronoun"... I hit my left handlebar on the pole and went flying. All I could think was, "oh crap, I hope Andy can dodge my bike," I rolled once on the ground and bounced to my feet. I was completely fine, not a scratch physically, but boy was my pride bruised- MORAL: I Can't follow Stu... My placement in this line is becoming more strict every day.

I was gonna write a blog about the incredible hospitality of people in the Northwest, and about some awesome people we've met with some stellar stories, but I thought it was necessary to share the story of the worst Bike rider...

Ryan C. Kolegas

Scott: Raccoons

These aren't the run of the mill raccoons you all know and love from the suburbs. The ones that hide during the day and stay away from people at night. The ones that travel in packs so they can fake Willie out with one on the right while their brothers attack the Jeep from behind. These are the super raccoons – the fearless bastards who stare you right in the eye while they break into your food. Some may hate these raccoons, but I love them.

Ryan has heard stories of Raccoons from his sister, Stacy Kolegas. If you want cool raccoon stories feel free to contact her. Tell her Scott sent you. She'll know what that means.

My raccoon story isn't that interesting. I am more impressed with the all encompassing audacity these animals have. When I say bastards who stare you in the eye when they eat your food, I mean it. There was one little guy who was just looking at me. Three feet away, he was. I start yelling, knowing in the back of my mind that he was taught “people won't hurt you” from a very young age. I can see it now - These little raccoon mothers teaching their children the ways of Larrabee State Park, and how to work the “people” system. Indeed, these creatures are smarter than us. If there's one thing they know how to do, it's getting food.

So I was yelling, about to take a picture, and he slowly comes toward me, one step at a time. I was going to get a beautiful headshot when Matt came running. He scared the raccoon away. Something I could never dream of doing. I didn't get a picture today, but hopefully I'll have something to show you on the way back through.

Scott: Balding Buddies

Ryan and I were looking at pictures today. There were some noticeably good ones, but the things I felt stood out the most were our receding hair lines. A couple of years ago the question of whether we just had larger than average widow's peaks or we were balding was debatable, but now it is clear that we are in fact the latter. As we look into our visibly crowned futures, we realize this is something that we have to deal with. Our mother's fathers both went through follicly challenged lives and their mother's fathers before them. It is inevitable that we are required to bare the same burden.

So, in a last ditch effort to document my thick, somewhat feathered hair, I am growing it out for the summer. Right now it's kind of a mullet, but I'm hoping that will change soon. It is time to bid adieu to my golden locks and say hello to a trimmed head of hair. After all I have to deal with this for the rest of my life. There are so many things I've yet to accomplish. Trying out for American Idol, becoming a famous actor/model (and not the other way around), and pulling my mane back into a Gaston-esque pony tail. I've only a summer to do this and I am determined to accomplish my goals, however unreachable they may seem.

Ryan and I were talking about our meek hairless futures by the fire when a single tear rolled down my cheek. (It was actually my nose, but the cheek sounds more classically romantic.) The tear was not a reaction to our conversation, but a reaction to our bonfire's smoke in the eyes. Other tear producing possibilities include allergies, subconscious thoughts of an uncertain future, and the beauty of Ryan's face in the sunset. Sometimes my eyes just leak. I don't know why. Anyway, it came at an incredible moment, and I'm assuming it evaporated in the fire.

We wasted our attractive youths and it is quite possibly all down hill from here. Now I have to rely on my personality, and who knows how far that will get me. Don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty sexy - but I was like a 10. Now I'm a 9.5 at most. Damn you mother's father's mother's father! Damn you.

Andy: Seattle.

We spent quite a bit of time in Seattle. Somthing like three days. I must admit that it was nothign like I imagined. All of the rooms we stayed in had four walls, no studio audiences made "whooo hooo" noises when scott took his shirt off and Frasier and Niles were no where to be seen. Yeah it was weird.

Actually, Seattle was a lot like Chicago. There were people there, and buildings, just like home!

I just finished spending 172 dollars on a tune up for the bike, a painful but necessary expenditure. My bike rides perfectly now, especially with all that wieght I lost in my wallet. I plan on finding new and interesting ways to eat peanut butter and honey sandwiches. I will become the king of peanut butter and honey sandys. Maybe I'll become power hungry and become a tyrant of peanut butter and honey sandys.

Anyways, trip's fun. I like stuff.

Andy Junk

Scott: It Happened Again

We were riding in to Seattle along Lake Washington BLVD when it happened. The map we were using proved to be a bit faulty. This fact alone would have been fine. We could've asked some people for directions, or figured out a way to get over to Emma's (our hostesses) house by way of the sun. Instead, Stuart called mutiny. He called mutiny on me, and what did that accomplish? Probably one of the worst ideas brought forth by the rest of the riders we've had so far.

Trust the computer. Matt rode over to the jeep, and we proceeded to use the navigation system Adam has on his new car. There are two problems with this system. One: It defeats the whole point of riding fully loaded and self sustained. It's cheating. Two: Cheaters never prosper. I couldn't do anything to change the minds of the group though. Mutiny had been called on me.

So we rode up the steepest hills I had ever seen, all the while Andy expressing how he loves, and will always trust, computers. I enjoyed the exercise. This was the first time I had used my highest gear. The computer brought us up and down, over and over, until finally it got us onto Spokane. With a quick right turn we found there was no longer a shoulder to bring us safe passage, but it was too late. We were on a one way track to the highway. The upper bridge which connects Seattle to West Seattle apparently doesn't allow bikers on it, nor does it give warning that it doesn't allow bikers on it.

I was ahead, but I hear tales of a cop pulling the rest of the group over and scolding them to get off. It doesn't make sense to me why you would have someone stop on the side of the highway if you don't want them on it in the first place. It's not like this was our brilliant plan to get some good footage for the documentary, although I think we might have, and get thrills from the traffic passing close by on the left at speeds of 100 plus mph. We wanted to be off of this God forsaken bridge as much as he wanted us to be.

After some searching, we found a clear safe path to West Seattle... and parents, there is no need to worry. I exaggerate a bit for dramatic effect. It really wasn't that bad. We'll be more on the ball from now on. Seattle was great.

Scott: Funny Flaws on a Full Day

So I am the designated navigator for this trip, however I'm pretty much flying by the seat to my pants for this training ride up to Vancouver, B.C. I think it's hilarious (not everyone does) and I'm willing to get lost a little bit in order to obtain more out of life. (Like lessons on why you should prepare for long bike trips.) Today we were about 50 miles into our ride, and I decided to skip a few street names along the way to Yelm. When I was looking up the route on the computer I didn't think these streets were all that important. We would ask someone where they were when we got to the town. Boy was I wrong. Not only did we not ask anyone, but I forgot which street names I left out. We crossed a bridge we weren't supposed to cross, went to a gas station we never should have seen, and we nearly crashed on some gravel we should have never traversed. All this, and with fingernails that were cut too short.

I don't want any of you to be worried that we're going to get incredibly lost on this journey of ours. We won't, and the reason is we have two compasses. The other reason is that we have detailed adventure cycling maps. I know what we're doing when we leave Vancouver. It's getting there that's the problem. I'm looking forward to getting to Seattle tomorrow. Little do the riders know, my directions don't really bring us right there. We've got a few miles of spontaneity. We'll see what happens.

Andy: Topeak Bikamper: or the thing you shouldn't buy because it is dumb.

What a shiny pretty clever idea; a tent that utilizes the bike frame itself in lieu of poles. That should save space and weight. What a convenience.

Unfortunately, the convenience stops in the idea stage. The practical implementation of the Topeak Bikamper Tent is severely flawed. It is made out of shoddy materials, is difficult to set up at night, and I have found that though it looks pretty cool after you finally get it self up, the hassle and lack of comfort are not worth the style.

It seems clear that Topeak got this great idea, but did not understand the basics of tent building. I have, in using the tent one time, had multiple clips and hooks snap, the rainfly fails to fully cover the tent, and the carrying bag is too small to fit the rainfly and the tent after you take it out of the case. In fact, after I had removed the tarp and just had the tent in there, the strain on the seems of the bag have caused a few inches of stitching to come undone.

On top of all this, this is my second Topeak Bikamper Tent. The first one that was shipped to me had many holes in the material of the tent. I sent it back immediately and incorrectly assumed that it was a fluke.

Oh, by the way. The second time I took the rainfly out of my Topeak Bikamper bag, all of the sealant tape fell out in a dusty mess. It was totally disgusting.

That being said, REI was very good about accepting the return of the original tent and I have high hopes concerning the return of the newer one.

Do not buy this tent. It's pretty, but it is seriously flawed in design, comfort, and durability.

Scott: A Plethora of Smells

Plethora is one of the most misused words in the English language. I know this because of the extensive surveys I've done on the subject. Other words often used incorrectly are ironic, cleft lip, and psychiatrist. Plethora actually means too many, and not the widely believed “many.” Therefore when I say a plethora of smells, I refer to there being too many smells. Some are good and some are bad, and some of the worst are the ones that come out of Matt. ( I don't think he'd be mad I'm saying this. His methane excretions are more a matter of hilarity and pride in his eyes.)

In springtime Oregon we've passed fragrant flowers and pungent plants. I'd say the plants are more like factories, but I wanted to make use of my alliterative abilities. I noticed a theme. Every factory we passed brought the urge to hold our collective breath, which proves to be very difficult while riding a bike, and push through the pain. There's a basic system of smells, and it's far easier to produce a bad one than a good one.

My favorite smells were those of campfires, fresh muffins, allergenic roses, and nightly dinner. My least favorite were road kill, dirty jerseys, Matt's digested food, and a particular factory along St. Helens Road - It was mostly bad with a hint of sweetness, which made it far worse than anything else. Here's to far more fires and far less factories, but no factory fires. That would be the worst.

Andy: Face Race

There's been a lot of races in our time. The Indy 500, the Tour de France, the Kentucky Derby, Egyptian, Lebanese... But never, in the history of man or beast, has someone intentionally chosen to shave their face and head at the same time in order to see which grows faster. Never. Not even when cavemen were in their caves just hanging out, building forts with couch cushions. I know, because I've been there.

Anyways, I guess I'm pretty cool because I did it. Well, my girlfriend did... after I got her pretty drunk. There will probably be some sweet facebook pics of it someday... (By the way, if you shave just the top of your head and keep the mustache, you look like a total perv. (At least I did.)) Anyhow, the race began about three days ago, and (place your bets now) It's a pretty close race. I've got my money on face over head. If I'm right, Matt will owe me a million dollars, and I can buy that island I was checking out on craiglist. It's looking to be beard all the way as of late, but I've seen a man with six fingers on one hand, so I guess anything is still possible.

Love and Kissys

Ryan: Funky Knee

So its been two days, 145 miles... I feel pretty good, minus my sore thighs, and exhaustion... However there is one big worry already. My knee seems to be mad at me. It is swollen and hurts- in a bad way (mostly when I'm riding)... I pushed through it yesterday and will probably do the same tomorrow, but today I'm relaxin' all cool. Stu and Andy made it to Portland, and Scott and them are going on a Gelato ride with Pedalpalooza. Its sounds sweet (literally, for the taste buds), and the gelato here is stellar, but I'd rather be able to rock tomorrow... Send my knee some good vibes, please. If I'm gonna make it 7400 more miles it needs to buck up...

Ryan C. Kolegas

Scott: The Best First Day of Anything Ever

You may go through life chasing the dream of pure perfection - A day to begin a journey that will change the rest of your entire being. It may be your wedding day, graduation day, or the day when you finally retire from a job you love to begin a lovely retirement. Our day was June 14, 2008. The beginning of our “Biking the States” adventure. This was truly the best first day of anything ever. I'd be willing to bet anyone ten cents and pay the first person to challenge my bet, or more likely, to reap the rewards of the thousands of ten cent challenges I prove wrong.

The day started out with me not doing dishes, Matt not taking care of managerial duties, and Ryan not cutting off his beautiful braided pig tails. We began at 9:30 a.m., riding to Springfield to pick up some last minute items from Rick, a generous bike-friendly donor. What we did not prepare for fully, he supplied. Tubes, chain lube, pumps, tire levers, and sealant among other things. That's when the real trip began.

Some of the riding is definitely monotonous or strenuous, what have you. However, between those moments of struggle you get endless rewards. The second came when a bull dog began chasing us down the street. Normally when a dog starts this hunt, you think “Oh my Lord. I am going to get slowly eaten from ankle to head after crashing on my bike.” (Dogs love the smell of blood. Luckily none of us were bleeding yet. That came later in the day) But, this dog was wonderful in everything he did. He trotted over to us, smiling like a well trained pig, (I hear they're very intelligent), introduced himself, and began eating a snake on the side of the road. He followed us for about a quarter mile when we decided we should probably turn around to guide him back to his owners. If I were to have a dog, that's the kind of dog I would like.

After our little run in we continued on, spinning the best we could with a fully loaded bike and a fully annoying headwind. Our energy was quickly depleting, and we had no concept of when the next town was coming up. We pedaled and pedaled, and our speed went down and down. Finally, after twenty more miles we came across Brownsville, which has to be the best town around named after a color. As we rode through downtown, a man directed us off of our main path. Being to the point of exhaustion, we had to oblige. At the bottom of this street there was the “Strawberry Century.” A hundred mile through local towns and country. Matt began turning around when they call us back to food. “No no no. We don't care if you're with the ride. You're welcome to eat whatever you'd like.” We did.

We went from pasta salad, to Spongebob go-gurt, to string cheese, to bananas, to scones and brownies, and pb and j bagels, and strawberry pastries, and seconds of everything. Then we slept.

We awoke to a multitude of cyclists from all around Oregon. Every bite was heaven and every person seemed just as friendly as the last. It was the most welcome brake anyone could ask for. The only problem with me was I fell over. Mind you, I wasn't riding. I was simply setting my bike down and it brought me down with it. That's when the blood came.

But alas, we had to get moving to reach our destination for the day. We didn't know what that was exactly, as we aren't going off of the adv-cycling maps yet, so the goal was the nearest town around 70 miles. We pulled into this small, one restaurant, town and ate at the one restaurant they had. My favorite moment came after dinner. It brought us to where we are now.

During dinner we noticed a nice house across the street, and in an attempt to sleep somewhere we were going to ask them to let us set up camp in their yard. As we're about to ask this woman shouts from the parking lot, “No no no. (as they seem to do in these parts.) Go to the house next door. She's a biker.” So, we took her advice and knocked on the door of this beautiful 1913 house. That's where we met Roger and May Garland, two retired teachers from a local community college. As Roger taught film and has his photography, we couldn't have really found a more fitting couple.

Without a moments hesitation they invited us into their home to spend the night, offering food, drinks, showers, and towels. Roger just returned from a bike tour of the Underground Railroad, and was sympathetic to our needs. He's been across the U.S. four times, and has the self developed pictures to show for it. May had her first cross country trip just two years ago, and enjoys quilting in the extra time she now has. We exchanged stories and showed them the website, and you could just see the love between them. They were like two young newlyweds wrapped in each others arms. When I'm to the age of retirement, I would love to live the type of life they're enjoying right now. All in all this has been a fantastic day, and tomorrow we're starting with an old fashioned pancake breakfast. Until then, good night and good riddance. I was going to say “good night and good luck,” but that reminded me of a movie I'd never seen, so I put in an off putting way, and in to a Green Day song I've heard. I hope you're not offended. I enjoy all of you.

Oh, and I almost forgot. We helped a woman get her car out of a ditch. It was pretty stellar, and she was nice, though she may reverse her car into ditches.

Scott: A Week of Partying at The Spot

This is finals week at the University of Oregon, and I was just awakened at 3:21 a.m. The only nice thing about being jolted awake at this time is the lovely descending "3-2-1" I see when I look at the clock. (What a pretty time.) I'm going to try to go back to bed now. I have work in the morning. As Jemaine from Flight of the Conchords would say, "It's' business time."

If there are any typoes in this blog posting, I'm sorry. I was just woken up at 3:21 a.m. I'm going to the bathroom. (note the clever typo in "Typoes".)

. . . 5:00 a.m. Still awake. At least I got the dishes done. Three days left. I can't wait.

Stuart: Snaking Paths

I had my first major wipe out today while riding the snaking gravel paths of Waterfall Glen. Took a turn too fast. It was wonderful.

Also, I rode over a black and yellow snake and learned some lessons. It was slightly terrifying. I thought it was a stick, and the path was full of sticks, so I thought I'd just ride over it like normal, until I saw its true colors with about a foot before contact. I screamed loudly in fear that it would leap up and attach itself to my ankle that was so firmly clipped into the pedal. My adrenaline kicked in and I sped over it and felt the snake twice (front tire, back tire), cringing in fear of the attack. The adrenaline boost kept me riding pretty fast for about thirty seconds, after which I fully realized what happened and how little danger I actually was in. The poor snake probably got a little hurt, even though when I looked back, it didn't look bent out of shape. I learned a few lessons:
1. Don't ride over things that you think are sticks. Even if they are sticks, it isn't that fun, and if they aren't, its just scary.
2. If I am ever riding too slowly, all I have to do is find a way to fear for my life in order to speed up.
3. I would be perfectly willing to suck the blood and venom out of one of my friends' wounds if they got bitten. We would be blood brothers like the little boy and the Indian from the book "The Indian in the Cupboard" only more romantic, and not involve both partys' blood, or Indians.

Stuart

Scott: The Dirtiest Footprints, The Shiniest Spoon.

As some of you know, Matt and I are partially able to do this trip because of the managerial duties at "the Spot" in Eugene, OR. Basically we get free room for the daunting task of cleaning up after college students. I do the dishes and Matt takes care of rent collection, emptying garbage, and basic cleaning around the house. In the end I would definitely say it's worth it, but there are times when you think, "What the hell? I hate every guy between the ages of 18 and 21, excluding the biking the states crew and a few others I've met along the way." This brings me to the title of todays blog.

The dirtiest footprints and the shiniest spoon are actual recent events or nouns, what have you. It's what they represent that sums up our stay in Eugene and the excursion we are about to take in two freaking weeks, respectively.

As the year has progressed, people have become more and more lazy. It started out with a few dishes left here and there, but for the most part they were confined to the kitchen. Every once in a while you would get the puddle of vomit from a night of drunken promiscuity the night before, and there would, of course, be the tail end of someones "chew" habit. This is not the wonderful bubble gum chew you remember from your childhood. No. This is the "Sandlot, get wasted go on a carnival ride and let your saliva fly," chewing tobacco that you find in the major leagues, and with people who have lost their tongues to mouth cancer.

Time passes and you get the moldy food that has been festering in peoples rooms for who knows how long. You get the milk that expired last summer. You get the daily spit cups and nightly specimens fit for an impromptu sperm bank. You get the sugary concoctions stuck to the counter tops and everyone burns their food to the pots and pans they cook it in.

All of this leads to the dirtiest footprints - the culmination of every pain in the ass thing we have to do here. Matt mops the floor in the kitchen, leaves for a minute, and returns to find someone has walked all over it leaving mud wherever they went. That pretty much sums up the care people take when they don't have to worry about doing the brunt work. The only thing that keeps me going is the idea of the shiniest spoon.

I live my life by way of the shiniest spoon. (Some would call this anal retentive.) This spoon was given to me by my parents, and was made by the wonderful people who sell the quite popular swiss army knife. The spoon came in a picnic set with a small fork, however I've seen shinier, and a knife to cut the food. This will be my primary cutlery in two weeks when I no longer have to worry about anyones dishes but my own. This spoon is pure perfection down to the size and shape of the oval head, and I know it will carry me through the summer and beyond. I may even take a picture of it for you.

Stuart: Spanish Inspiration

Just got back from two weeks in Spain. It was full of singing, dancing and lisps. I saw a bullfight in Granada and one Toreador tried this trick where he laid down right in front of the gate that the bull was let out. So, when the bull (not yet weakened, stabbed or bleeding) was released, it could run directly at him with full strength. His plan was obviously to dodge the bull and come away unscathed, then thrust his pelvis at the crowd in an intesely masculine display of pride. Unfortunately for him, the bull just smashed into his pathetic (in comparison) body and sent him flying. Luckily, a bunch of men came out to distract the raging animal from further destroying the frail figure it satisfyingly hit. After the toreador gathered himself and did a few pelvic thrusts to make sure he was okay, full of hubris, he tried it again. This time, the bull knocked him so hard his shoe flew off and he had to limp the rest of the fight. It isn't a far leap to think that I am that same silly man with a cape and this trip is beast with horns trying to severely mame me if I go into it too cocky and slightly underprepared. Before I left, I had been riding between 20 and 30 miles every day for about two weeks, so after two weeks in Spain (even with a delightful bicycle ride around Barthelona (Barcelona)), I assume I'm back to square one. I've got some work to do.

Stuart

Ryan: Bike The Drive

So, Andy and I participated in Chicago's "Bike The Drive" event, where they closed Lake Shore Drive to cars, and opened it to bicycles from 5 a.m. to 9 a.m. on a Sunday. IT WAS AWESOME!

I can't express the feeling that overtook me when I was rolling down the middle of the street surrounded by other bicyclists. There must have been a couple thousand cyclists there (easy), all cruising down the "Drive" without a care in the world. What would the world be like if bikes replaced cars? It could happen.

Anyway, We ended up biking around 50-55 miles by the end of the day (which is up there for my longest ride yet), and it was extremely enjoyable. My excitement for the trip grows with each day that passes. T-Minus 24 days! Oh boy.

Ryan C. Kolegas

Ryan: Wipe Out

So it finally happened. I wiped out, and Andy is right, it doesn't hurt that much. This is what happened:

It was a cold, windy, and rainy night, and I was on my way to DMaC practice (DePaul Men's A Capella- my a Capella group) at 9:30 in the p.m. I was getting wet, and glasses in the rain are not great... but it was no big deal. I came to an intersection, checked both ways, then crossed the street. It seemed like a normal ride at first.

Then, as I approached another intersection, I was aware of a yellow VW bug coming up behind me. The light was red, so I slowed and began to check the left and right for the cars... well, apparently I should have been looking at the road harder because before I knew it I was flying over my handlebars after my front tire got stuck in a basketball size pot hole. I landed on my elbow and knee, but nothing was seriously injured (except for my pride of course).

I quickly got up, grabbed my bike and moved to the sidewalk to gather my composure. As I'm assessing the damage, I notice the the VW creep up a little bit... Then it creeps up a little more. Finally, the driver rolls down her window and asks, "are you ok?" My tormented ego replies, "I'm fine thanks for asking." Now that I think about it I could have responded in a more witty manner such as "Haven't perfected that trick yet... or no worries my bike and I are made of steel, or what do you mean am I ok? THAT WAS AWESOME, or at least I wasn't carrying a cake..." She proceeds to say "Well, that just sucks," and then quickly turned right and sped off.

After about a minute I got back on my bike and finished the ride only to spend the hour and a half of practice wearing sopping wet jeans...

It was quite the wipe out experience, and I'm proud to be in one piece... And thank you lady for the kind words...

Ryan C. Kolegas

Scott: My pores left themselves emotionally vulnerable and they got burned by the sun they love.

30 minutes. 30 minutes and I get a sunburn. I'm such a pansy.

Scott: I am a prisoner of my job.

Yesterday I went for a bike ride up McKenzie View road. I'd have to say it's the closest to paradise I think I've been. Some people like the beaches along the coast or the big city life, but I felt like I could do this type of thing for the rest of my life. It wasn't so much the location, although that had a lot to do with it, but it was the culmination of many things. I'm sad to say I've probably wasted the resources I've had here in Eugene for too many months. Although nothing would've been as sweet without this perfect spring weather.

There's something wonderful about riding on a newly paved road. Every revolution of the leg seems effortless, and you really get a sense of the efficiency the bicycle has. I rode close to the sunset. Hills were to the left of me and the river to the right. A nice breeze guided me along the entirety of the ride. Riding through the protection of the trees, I felt oxygen flowing through my body, and an overwhelming feeling of joy. I was content. This was the prelude to my summer.

As I pedaled the short two hour ride I began to think of the upcoming days. Tomorrow I was going to ride out to the coast to have my first sleep over with nature. I've had slumber parties with nature before, but not a one on one sleep over, and not after an eighty mile bike ride. This may have been my only chance to accomplish something like this before the whole BTS crew is together. The day after that I would meander my way back to Eugene, ready to shower and take a much needed nap.

Last night I was getting ready to go to bed so I could get up early in the morning and set off to the Oregon coast when I heard the hopeful ding of my MacBook. If this had taken place a few years earlier I would've risen to the voice of the computer. "You've got mail." But here in the future I rose to something much more subtle. I looked at the computer screen hoping for a message from one of my comrades - something to improve my social standing or my relationships with cross country friends. Instead I found a message from the manager at LaVelle. "We found a band for music on the patio and are extremely understaffed. Would you mind working Friday and/or Saturday night?"

Kind of. Kind of was the answer I was looking for. But alas I cannot say no, so I responded, "That's fine. I will work Friday and Saturday night." I was supposed to ride to the coast in the next couple of days. This was my chance to kick my ass into shape.

I love work and I love the people I work with, but I'm getting to the point where that is the last thing I want to think about. However money is money, and there will be life after biking so I have to prepare.


So rather than riding to the coast today, I am sitting in front of the computer thinking about riding to the coast. You know what happens while I'm doing this? I get a call from my second job at Johnny Ocean's Grille. "Scott, would you like to work tonight? I decided it's only fair." I say okay, and within a few hours, my four day weekend turns into a one day weekend. This is unfortunately added on to the fact that my four day Memorial day weekend was reduced to four days of Memorial day work.

There's a time and a place to have the experience of a lifetime, and though I will not be able to take the solo trips I so desperately wanted, I figure I have a summer off when other people don't. I have one job in my life, and that's to make other people's lives easier. If I can work now so other people can enjoy the time they have off then I will do that, but come June 14th I am done. No more jobs, no more worries, and best of all no more dishes. I can't wait to get out of here and really begin life's journey.

Scott: I thought I was getting a tan, but my hairless body proved otherwise.

One thing my brother and I don't want is skin cancer. And though it may already be inevitable with the failing ozone, global warming, and the numerous amounts of burns we've obtained as children, we'd like to fight the burns on our biking the states trip to the best of our abilities. There are a number of ways to do this. Sunscreen is a big one. We've got spf 30, because I've heard it's the best protection for the price. If you go above thirty you'll get a very little bit more protection for a lot more money. The other thing which can prevent burns brings me to the title of my blog today.

Since there is only one month left before our departure, I've tried to do at least one bike related piece of work each day. For the past four days we've been riding in the early morning and today I will ride again. But aside from the obvious physical shape we need to be in, there are other precautions we need to take. So, along with riding and packing and lifting weights to help my strength, I've been tanning.

Everyday I go outside and tan for what I feel like is a couple of hours. In reality it is not nearly this long, but like yoga, I find tanning to be tediously boring and unnecessarily hot. So, to help you grasp how long I'm outside I'll say 4 minutes tanning time is equivalent to 1 minute actual time. In the future I will be numbing the pain of my boredom with a 30g ipod and bose acoustic noise canceling on the ear headphones, but since both are on lone to a co-worker who has never seen Flight of the Conchords, I have to deal with the monotony of chirping birds and passing cars while laying outside.

After a couple of weeks of tanning I felt pretty good about myself. I figured I had a nice base going, and soon it wouldn't matter how long I was outside. I wasn't going to get burned. I could look at myself in the mirror for hours appreciating the tan I had acquired. I would pose, turn around, pose some more, flex left, flex right, kissy face, blue steel, magnum, (Just kidding. Magnum isn't near ready enough for display.) and finally get on with the day. Today I felt especially chipper. Then the midmorning came. Out of the blue I felt something needed to get done. What that thing was, I didn't know yet, but I didn't have work today and Matt was on an overnight trip to some somewhat nearby hot spring, and I felt the shadow of apathy creeping toward me.

Then it hit me. This was it. This was the day I was going to shave my body. I wanted to wait for a more ceremonial occasion with hundreds of spectators, but when a nap is staring you straight in the face you've got to say "Screw you nap," and take the proper action.

Shaving for the first time in eight months is a bit of an undertaking. You can't just dive right in with your mom's stolen "Venus" razor blade snapped on to your mach 3 razor. You have to shorten and then shave, otherwise it's just a tangled lengthy mess. So I started with the electric razor, buzzing up and down my chest until everything was gone. (This was more the icing on the cake than something I thought I needed to do.) "That's interesting," I thought as I removed hair farther and farther down my body.

I moved on to the right leg, methodically buzzing up and down, and inch by inch my woolen leg lost its natural insulation to the floor. Once again my leg felt the sweet smell of fresh air. Each follicle was able to breath easy after a winter in hibernation. For the time being I would only do my right leg. I like to shave in this pattern every time I take on a full body cleansing because it reminds me of the time I shaved half of my body. It was the right half, in case you were wondering. "That's interesting," I thought once again as I looked in the mirror. Le Tigre.

As I compared one flexed calf to another, I realized something I had experienced in years past. I wasn't tan. I wasn't even really close to being tan. My body was covered in a facade, lying to itself that it was more beautifully bronzed than it actually was. It was not my tan skin, but my tan hair, and without it I'm just another susceptible fool. I suppose in the end I would sacrifice my falsely tan body for smooth skin.

So I went back and shaved the left leg. Nothing is sexier than symmetry. I'm happy I did, because there is only a bit that gets me in the biking mood more than sleek aerodynamic legs, and there is little I love less than unwanted hair.

We still have a month left, and by golly I'm going to use that time to build up my base.

Andy: Wind. (As in: "Blows bikes over," not "the old pocketwatch")

I recently (and by recently I mean a while ago) went on a short overnight tour to Bloomington IL from my hometown in Downers Grove IL (which, by the way is a very nice place to raise a family if you're interested). The plan was thus: ride 75 miles one day, then camp, then ride the remaining 75 miles to my destination. I had a train ticket back because time constraints wouldn't allow a return trip.

While checking the weather, I made sure that I would not be encountering rain, snow, or storms of blood like Jesus used to make. seeing none of the above, I geared up and left.

If this were a disaster movie, at this point the camera would pan from the window (where you would see me leaving fully loaded and confident) to the computer screen still open to the weather. Tomorrow's ignored forecast: Wind. (it was in italics, too.)

Day one, easy schmeasy. What a joke biking is. Its so easy. Even a baby with no brain could do it. I said " SHUT UP LEAVE ME ALONE!" to my original goal of 75 miles and busted out a full century. Screw you 75, you suck and are an orphan. I figured I was in great shape to finish the 50 miles remaining and show up early in Bloomington to make out with my girlfriend.

I find an abandoned park and set up my tent for the night at 7:30, planning on getting an obscene amount of sleep and waking up so rested that my eyes would shoot pure beams of energy like Cyclops from X- Men. * Little did I know, that Wind was coming.

It was my first time setting up my tent by myself like a big kid so I screwed up and did it bad like a dumb little kid. My tarp was loose, which, under normal circumstances would not be an issue, but the circumstances were far too windy to be normal. The tarp detached and beat my tent mercilessly. The constant slapping reminded me of a three stooges movie (one with Joe or Shemp). I tried to sleep but the cold weather and the BANG BANG BANG of my tarp on the side of the tent said "Hey Andy, wake up, If you wake up I'll give you free candy." But it was lying. It didn't give me any free candy and I fell for it so much that I only slept two hours the whole night.

Day 2 was hard. I was tired, and the wind was still being an idiot like an idiot is. Luckily for the wind it didn't have to worry about blowing too hard because I was stopping it with my body and my bike. All 45 miles per hour of it. While riding directly into the wind (which composed a majority of the day's travel) I was able to reach blinding speeds of 5 to zero miles an hour. At one point a gust physically stopped my bike from moving forward and I had to walk for two miles. Now I know how Helen Hunt felt during "Twister" She's so talented and brave, don't you think?

Two hours later I had moved a whopping 5 miles. At least now I was traveling perpendicular to the wind instead of directly into it. I was in an empty field waiting to be planted with the summer crops so I had miles of flat land all around me and nothing else. Seeing a house was more rare than a disease that they would talk about on the show "House." At this point I was hit by another massive gust of wind and my bike capsized. Goodbye balance! You were taken by the breeze. Goodbye map, you left with the balance.

Hapless and mapless, I rolled into a ditch defeated and called my girlfriend at 8 am crying like a baby and asking for a ride. I didn't know where I was, but I knew I was somewhere between Bloomington and Downers Grove. Eventually I was found, but I lost more than just my map on that fateful day. I lost my pride.... And my balance.... And my map.


*Cyclops didn't get his powers from being fully rested though, he was just born that way.*