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.