The tour is over and done, and I am sitting in Central Park, New York City having just finished a fabulous croissant and baguette and latte. It is a stunning day and we are planning our day in NYC. But that is another story for another day.
We ended up in Jersey city with a police escort for the last 10 miles. The closed a turnpike for us and with all of us biking we were about 3 city blocks long. Looking over my shoulder there was just a stream of yellow jerseys, and it was definitely cool to see.
The past two weeks have been just incredible. Canada (read southern ontario) treated us so well from the moment we crossed the border to the time we left it again.
more again soon.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Still sitting in Jerusalem - two posts in one day, hurrah hurrah
I've just returned from the celebration service at the ball park in Grand Rapids. I was really delighted to hear Shane Claiborne. He was the main speaker and he has some pretty phenomenal things to say. He lives in a very poor part of Philadelphia in an intentional community called the Simple Way. He's written some books but he is quite good at deflecting praise for community to all the great people that surround him. He told some great stories about working in Calcutta with Mother Teresa, who had rather deformed feet because she made sure that she wore the worst of all the shoes that were donated to the work she and those surrounding her were doing; an act that over the years destroyed her feet; and some of the very cool people in Philly choosing to live lives that seem counter cultural. He spoke about the Amish as another group of people doing a similar thing, and their response to the school shooting that happened in their community. He said that the world was startled by the grace they showed to the family of the shooter, and in his book "Jesus for President" he suggests that the Amish be in charge of homeland security - a comment that got a significant positive response from the audience. He had a significant southern/Philly twang that was dramatically different from all the dutch people who spoke in the service. Once I had committed to the rhythm of his speech it was hard to return regular church service "talk". One of the fellows on the tour, Kyle, wrote a song and performed it in the service. It was delightful. I think he may have the kind of voice that will take him far. It was pretty cool.
***
This past week has been very fun. There were a number of shorter 70ish km days that just make biking feel like a dream. One day was significantly more difficult than the others, but good friends helped to make it all work out. It was Thursday, and we were biking 130 km. The morning started out mildly difficult with a flat. I had slept in, so I was leaving even later than usual, although late seems to be status quo for me. I started to fly, helped someone with a flat tire, and was a little sad because most of the people who might pass me on the road had already left. But, I was cruising for a number of miles knowing there were still a couple of 'fast boys' who would eventually pass me. And then I broke a spoke. Being the super prepared person that I always am, I had a spare, but I didn't know how to change it. Betsy and Jonathan stopped with the SAG wagon, and we had the wheel off in a moment trying to figure out what to do. I immediately thought of Alex, who knows so much about bikes and likes pissing around on the road which meant he would still be behind me and we called him for some expert advice. We attempted to fix it, got stuck, tried a lame bike shop who wanted to charge twice the regular price of labour to fix it in a hurry. They suggested leaving my bike there for a couple of days, not cluing in to the fact that we were biking across the country. Very annoying. Because we knew Alex would be able to fix it we phoned him up again and went to go meet him, Kyle, and Doug riding on the road. The van didn't have the tools need to fix the spoke, so we went back to the bike store to borrow their tools - finding out that they had no spare parts that fit my bike. It was really very lame. Then we went to another sports shop that the boys had seen as they zoomed into town. There were two very helpful girls at the shop, and though they didn't have anything that could help us, Audrey, one of the sales people, said she knew this guy called Terry who fixes bikes out of his barn. She took us to see him in the company van (the store was rather dead) to see Terry, and wouldn't you just know but he did have everything we needed. It still cost quite a bit of money, but I was just so happy that I was going to be able to finish the day.
After all the bike trauma, we went out for burgers, and then had to start riding to our final destination. We were only 20 miles into the actual ride and we still had 90 odd kilometers to go. It was 2:30, but actually 3:30 because we were changing states and time zones. For whatever ridiculous reason every time we changed time zones I would leave camp late, and just struggle to get in on time. So, we were in New Buffalo and it was technically 3:30 and we were supposed to be in by 7:00 p.m. I had been freaking out about making it on time, but Alex promised to stay with me. It is a pretty wonderful thing to have people who, when you need them to, will stick with you, even though they can motor along so much faster than your usual speed. We finally made it in at 6:45 - new time. EFI, thanks Alex.
So it turned out to be a totally sweet day, even though everyone was so totally mad that they were late because they waited to bike with me and my broken spoke.
Another sweet day occured just the next day when Alex happened to bike with me again. We were just having a blast. He kept looking for a store, and I was trying to pretend that I didn't know what was going on. We bought 2 delicious kinds of cheese, focaccia bread, cherries, chocolate, and wine. We stopped in a park in the middle of Holland Michigan and it was just so fun. It was sunny and short and an unbeleivable day.
The last couple of hours we have been sitting in the lobby of the some building on the Calvin College Campus. Just hanging out, watching ridiculous videos, listening to all kinds of music and just having a good ole' time.
Good Night.
***
This past week has been very fun. There were a number of shorter 70ish km days that just make biking feel like a dream. One day was significantly more difficult than the others, but good friends helped to make it all work out. It was Thursday, and we were biking 130 km. The morning started out mildly difficult with a flat. I had slept in, so I was leaving even later than usual, although late seems to be status quo for me. I started to fly, helped someone with a flat tire, and was a little sad because most of the people who might pass me on the road had already left. But, I was cruising for a number of miles knowing there were still a couple of 'fast boys' who would eventually pass me. And then I broke a spoke. Being the super prepared person that I always am, I had a spare, but I didn't know how to change it. Betsy and Jonathan stopped with the SAG wagon, and we had the wheel off in a moment trying to figure out what to do. I immediately thought of Alex, who knows so much about bikes and likes pissing around on the road which meant he would still be behind me and we called him for some expert advice. We attempted to fix it, got stuck, tried a lame bike shop who wanted to charge twice the regular price of labour to fix it in a hurry. They suggested leaving my bike there for a couple of days, not cluing in to the fact that we were biking across the country. Very annoying. Because we knew Alex would be able to fix it we phoned him up again and went to go meet him, Kyle, and Doug riding on the road. The van didn't have the tools need to fix the spoke, so we went back to the bike store to borrow their tools - finding out that they had no spare parts that fit my bike. It was really very lame. Then we went to another sports shop that the boys had seen as they zoomed into town. There were two very helpful girls at the shop, and though they didn't have anything that could help us, Audrey, one of the sales people, said she knew this guy called Terry who fixes bikes out of his barn. She took us to see him in the company van (the store was rather dead) to see Terry, and wouldn't you just know but he did have everything we needed. It still cost quite a bit of money, but I was just so happy that I was going to be able to finish the day.
After all the bike trauma, we went out for burgers, and then had to start riding to our final destination. We were only 20 miles into the actual ride and we still had 90 odd kilometers to go. It was 2:30, but actually 3:30 because we were changing states and time zones. For whatever ridiculous reason every time we changed time zones I would leave camp late, and just struggle to get in on time. So, we were in New Buffalo and it was technically 3:30 and we were supposed to be in by 7:00 p.m. I had been freaking out about making it on time, but Alex promised to stay with me. It is a pretty wonderful thing to have people who, when you need them to, will stick with you, even though they can motor along so much faster than your usual speed. We finally made it in at 6:45 - new time. EFI, thanks Alex.
So it turned out to be a totally sweet day, even though everyone was so totally mad that they were late because they waited to bike with me and my broken spoke.
Another sweet day occured just the next day when Alex happened to bike with me again. We were just having a blast. He kept looking for a store, and I was trying to pretend that I didn't know what was going on. We bought 2 delicious kinds of cheese, focaccia bread, cherries, chocolate, and wine. We stopped in a park in the middle of Holland Michigan and it was just so fun. It was sunny and short and an unbeleivable day.
The last couple of hours we have been sitting in the lobby of the some building on the Calvin College Campus. Just hanging out, watching ridiculous videos, listening to all kinds of music and just having a good ole' time.
Good Night.
sitting here in jerusalem
Ah, it has been two weeks and there are just too many things to say my good friends. Life is brimming with good people and delightful experiences. Last weekend was so full that there was just not a minute of time to spend on the computer. I love loving life this much.
So, we were in Madison last weekend, and it just so happened that a friend from the first two weeks of tour had come by to visit. At first I couldn't believe that he was actually there. I was sitting at dinner, and I looked across the enormous dining tent and thought I recognized the back of his head. In my mind I thought, there is no way that that is who I think it is; his name is Joel. I knew that he should be in B.C. working on school, but the back of his head was very familiar. It took about twenty minutes before my brain caught up with my eyesight and they agreed that as impossible as it seemed, Joel really was back. And that kicked off a most amazing weekend. He was visiting two friend from school in B.C. who live in Wisconsin; Milwaukee I think. For whatever reason, I got to tag along with them and that evening we went to this fantastic pub on the University of Wisconsin campus. It has a many tiered terrace that has a bandstand right on the water, Lake Minona, or Mindosa, I can't really remember which. His friends are going to seminary and we just had these incredible talks. I love it when people are willing to go as far as it takes to explore an issue, particularly when they are becoming part of the institution under criticism. I also love it when people can hold close to the good bits of those organizations, and bring some hope to those of us with so many questions. They were very good talks.
On Sunday I spoke in church, which was quite frightening. Walter, one of the SAG driver who has taken me under his wing; "theresa, you're not just getting older, you're getting better" - a frequent phrase to me when I finally make it to his SAG stop on difficult days; said to me that he was surprised I was so nervous speaking at the front of church. Aside from the fact that there I finished writing my speech during the sermon, it is always frightening to be at the front of 400 or some odd people. I like being the center of attention when it happens spontaneously, and off to the side, not when people actually expect something of me - totally one of the scariest things in the world. But, I think it all turned out all right.
That afternoon we went to check out the town of Madison, a really wicked place to visit I must say. I was practically convinced to sign of for the University of Wisconsin right then. It was really incredible. And to top of the evening, we played cards, specifically spoons. And we were complete idiots about it. We (meaning I and Annette) got into all kinds of trouble for being noisy; can you speak?!
The week leading up to Madison was pretty incredible as well. I broke a number of personal goals, well one mostly. It was quite a difficult week in terms of the distances we were riding. There were three days in particular, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, that we biked 183, 182, and 167 km respectively. The group dynamics, once again, had high levels of stress as everyone was worried about being able to finish. A lot of that tension was broken with a beautiful tail wind on the first day. Spirits were high as everyone seemed to finish well that day. The next day was a little more difficult, and I happened to be on sweep which made for a later start. But, as with every day, you just keep pedalling. Wherever the gumption comes from to keep my legs moving is beyond me, but it still continues to happen. It is sometimes incredible. I've been mentioning to various people that I am cycling with a little 'club' that I was told about in Winnipeg. Randall, a fellow from the last tour whose encouragement was instrumental in getting me into this crazy adventure, spoke about this club of people who made every mile on the last tour. The people who belonged to the EFI club, he said, was those of us who biked 'Every "Fabulous" Inch' of the trip. Now it has become a simple way of checking up on the kind of day you have had. Those days that I come in later than usual; those days that are long and hard biking into a headwind; when I finally make it into camp a couple of people, and one in particular see my tired face and just say "EFI Theresa?" and so far, happily, I can say yes every single time.
In many ways it feels as though the hard part of the trip is over. There don't seem to be any more challenges in terms of distance, except of course the second last day, and there don't seem to be any more 'mountains' to climb. There will be a lot of festivities and excitement, and a lot of new people, and it would be very very easy to shut down. I don't want shut down, but we will see how it goes.
There are more stories to come, but just at this moment, I must go and eat lunch and head out for the grand celebration rally. here's hoping for good times.
much love,
theresa
So, we were in Madison last weekend, and it just so happened that a friend from the first two weeks of tour had come by to visit. At first I couldn't believe that he was actually there. I was sitting at dinner, and I looked across the enormous dining tent and thought I recognized the back of his head. In my mind I thought, there is no way that that is who I think it is; his name is Joel. I knew that he should be in B.C. working on school, but the back of his head was very familiar. It took about twenty minutes before my brain caught up with my eyesight and they agreed that as impossible as it seemed, Joel really was back. And that kicked off a most amazing weekend. He was visiting two friend from school in B.C. who live in Wisconsin; Milwaukee I think. For whatever reason, I got to tag along with them and that evening we went to this fantastic pub on the University of Wisconsin campus. It has a many tiered terrace that has a bandstand right on the water, Lake Minona, or Mindosa, I can't really remember which. His friends are going to seminary and we just had these incredible talks. I love it when people are willing to go as far as it takes to explore an issue, particularly when they are becoming part of the institution under criticism. I also love it when people can hold close to the good bits of those organizations, and bring some hope to those of us with so many questions. They were very good talks.
On Sunday I spoke in church, which was quite frightening. Walter, one of the SAG driver who has taken me under his wing; "theresa, you're not just getting older, you're getting better" - a frequent phrase to me when I finally make it to his SAG stop on difficult days; said to me that he was surprised I was so nervous speaking at the front of church. Aside from the fact that there I finished writing my speech during the sermon, it is always frightening to be at the front of 400 or some odd people. I like being the center of attention when it happens spontaneously, and off to the side, not when people actually expect something of me - totally one of the scariest things in the world. But, I think it all turned out all right.
That afternoon we went to check out the town of Madison, a really wicked place to visit I must say. I was practically convinced to sign of for the University of Wisconsin right then. It was really incredible. And to top of the evening, we played cards, specifically spoons. And we were complete idiots about it. We (meaning I and Annette) got into all kinds of trouble for being noisy; can you speak?!
The week leading up to Madison was pretty incredible as well. I broke a number of personal goals, well one mostly. It was quite a difficult week in terms of the distances we were riding. There were three days in particular, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, that we biked 183, 182, and 167 km respectively. The group dynamics, once again, had high levels of stress as everyone was worried about being able to finish. A lot of that tension was broken with a beautiful tail wind on the first day. Spirits were high as everyone seemed to finish well that day. The next day was a little more difficult, and I happened to be on sweep which made for a later start. But, as with every day, you just keep pedalling. Wherever the gumption comes from to keep my legs moving is beyond me, but it still continues to happen. It is sometimes incredible. I've been mentioning to various people that I am cycling with a little 'club' that I was told about in Winnipeg. Randall, a fellow from the last tour whose encouragement was instrumental in getting me into this crazy adventure, spoke about this club of people who made every mile on the last tour. The people who belonged to the EFI club, he said, was those of us who biked 'Every "Fabulous" Inch' of the trip. Now it has become a simple way of checking up on the kind of day you have had. Those days that I come in later than usual; those days that are long and hard biking into a headwind; when I finally make it into camp a couple of people, and one in particular see my tired face and just say "EFI Theresa?" and so far, happily, I can say yes every single time.
In many ways it feels as though the hard part of the trip is over. There don't seem to be any more challenges in terms of distance, except of course the second last day, and there don't seem to be any more 'mountains' to climb. There will be a lot of festivities and excitement, and a lot of new people, and it would be very very easy to shut down. I don't want shut down, but we will see how it goes.
There are more stories to come, but just at this moment, I must go and eat lunch and head out for the grand celebration rally. here's hoping for good times.
much love,
theresa
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
written last night - too late for my own good.
August 4, 2008
We have finished our 5th week of this crazy adventure, and things are going well for the most part. I just had the privilege of spending the weekend in a hotel as my parents and friends from Winnipeg came to visit me. It was wonderful and luxurious, and almost too good, because when the time came to get back in the saddle, it was hard to say goodbye to “the good life”. But it was a delight to see them, and they came with treats for everyone. Sunday morning breakfast was a big hit due to the Bake Oven’s finest double raison raison bread and dutch gouda cheese. Bringing enough to feed a camp of 160 odd people meant they couldn’t pack a lunch in their regular cooler for the trip down. There were 4 adults, 2 GPS’s and a handful of maps, and they couldn’t figure out the route we were going to take for Monday ~ to their credit they were trying to do so backwards. Anyways the weekend was a hoot, and everyone enjoyed the treats (boeterkoek included) very well. Thanks a million.
I am sitting in Sargeant Bluff, Iowa. The humidity is too high to dry my clothing overnight, and I fear that I won’t have dry clothes again until I return home to Winnipeg. But the air is coolish; a mere 18° Celsius. This morning, leaving at 6:45 a.m. we were already at 27c with a disgusting amount of humidity. It was quite a day, but about halfway through there was a bit of rain, and that made everything far more bearable.
I had quite a bit of fun playing with the wind today; we had a headwind for at least half the day. But, after finally waking up and dealing with the heat and humidity (a process that usually takes about 30 km) some of the fast boys caught up with me and the scenery changed to these rolling hills that were absolutely picturesque, and I was keeping up without too much trouble. That improved my mood considerably. A little later on I continued on my own, and, dealing with the headwind after entering Iowa from Nebraska, I went into my drops and was just cooking down the road for over and hour. My speed varied from 21-25 km/hr. Now, I realize that probably doesn’t sound very fast, but dealing with a headwind when I was training in Winnipeg I might be able to reach 18-20 km/hr, and that was with help. So I continued to be delighted with my ride, although however much I have improved over the summer, some of my success is definitely due to the fact that I have thinner tires on my bike, hurrah. The only trouble is that I’m feeling it now, quite significantly, but anyways.
I’ve been doing some thinking today, for a number of reasons, and I find it both interesting, and sometimes difficult how much of my life and thoughts this tour has become. It is an excellent way to spend a summer, and I have already pushed boundaries I didn’t even know existed in my head. For instance, changing a tire on the side of the road is no big deal – it’s happened 9 times, and I’ve personally fixed 5 of them. I can cycle up a mountain pass of 4000 feet and cycle back down, in a day. I am capable of making 6 days of 150km each, in 35-38° heat, saddle sores and all. People, generally speaking, are super sweet – as in cool more than as in nice, although both adjectives apply, and stereotypes that I immediately make in my head, are constantly being broken. But on a bicycle tour, most of what we eat live and breath is, appropriately, cycling. We watch “Le Tour de France” when we stop in a café for a drink. We count our flats and our falls and we talk about cleaning our bikes, and changing our tires, and fixing pedals, chains, derailers, cassettes; the list could go on for a long time. It is great but I forget about the outside world.
The tour tries to deal with this as well by talking about the cause we are riding for, poverty, and providing opportunities to do service projects in the various communities into which we rode. All of which are good things. Furthermore – I do not take the time to read the newspaper or check the internet for updates of what is happening in the wider world – I hardly do that in my regular daily life. So this insulation from the world is self-imposed, particularly when I’m having a good time. And it isn’t really too bad, but sometimes I am startled again by the wider world and other people and it surprises me.
There was an excellent scene in a delightful little animated movie where a critic is going to determine the fate of a restaurant that used to be popular, fell in the public standings, and had revived quite a bit of hype because it was going in a new direction. When the waiter asked for the critic’s choice of meal Anton Ego (the critic) said he would like a dish of perspective along with some very fine wine. He sliced through all the fervour of the public and the press, and demanded a meal of the quality the excitement suggested.
It is just a silly little scene, in a silly little movie, but today I was reminded that life is sometimes seen from too small a scope, and that the wider picture, needs to be taken into account.
Adieu, until next time.
We have finished our 5th week of this crazy adventure, and things are going well for the most part. I just had the privilege of spending the weekend in a hotel as my parents and friends from Winnipeg came to visit me. It was wonderful and luxurious, and almost too good, because when the time came to get back in the saddle, it was hard to say goodbye to “the good life”. But it was a delight to see them, and they came with treats for everyone. Sunday morning breakfast was a big hit due to the Bake Oven’s finest double raison raison bread and dutch gouda cheese. Bringing enough to feed a camp of 160 odd people meant they couldn’t pack a lunch in their regular cooler for the trip down. There were 4 adults, 2 GPS’s and a handful of maps, and they couldn’t figure out the route we were going to take for Monday ~ to their credit they were trying to do so backwards. Anyways the weekend was a hoot, and everyone enjoyed the treats (boeterkoek included) very well. Thanks a million.
I am sitting in Sargeant Bluff, Iowa. The humidity is too high to dry my clothing overnight, and I fear that I won’t have dry clothes again until I return home to Winnipeg. But the air is coolish; a mere 18° Celsius. This morning, leaving at 6:45 a.m. we were already at 27c with a disgusting amount of humidity. It was quite a day, but about halfway through there was a bit of rain, and that made everything far more bearable.
I had quite a bit of fun playing with the wind today; we had a headwind for at least half the day. But, after finally waking up and dealing with the heat and humidity (a process that usually takes about 30 km) some of the fast boys caught up with me and the scenery changed to these rolling hills that were absolutely picturesque, and I was keeping up without too much trouble. That improved my mood considerably. A little later on I continued on my own, and, dealing with the headwind after entering Iowa from Nebraska, I went into my drops and was just cooking down the road for over and hour. My speed varied from 21-25 km/hr. Now, I realize that probably doesn’t sound very fast, but dealing with a headwind when I was training in Winnipeg I might be able to reach 18-20 km/hr, and that was with help. So I continued to be delighted with my ride, although however much I have improved over the summer, some of my success is definitely due to the fact that I have thinner tires on my bike, hurrah. The only trouble is that I’m feeling it now, quite significantly, but anyways.
I’ve been doing some thinking today, for a number of reasons, and I find it both interesting, and sometimes difficult how much of my life and thoughts this tour has become. It is an excellent way to spend a summer, and I have already pushed boundaries I didn’t even know existed in my head. For instance, changing a tire on the side of the road is no big deal – it’s happened 9 times, and I’ve personally fixed 5 of them. I can cycle up a mountain pass of 4000 feet and cycle back down, in a day. I am capable of making 6 days of 150km each, in 35-38° heat, saddle sores and all. People, generally speaking, are super sweet – as in cool more than as in nice, although both adjectives apply, and stereotypes that I immediately make in my head, are constantly being broken. But on a bicycle tour, most of what we eat live and breath is, appropriately, cycling. We watch “Le Tour de France” when we stop in a café for a drink. We count our flats and our falls and we talk about cleaning our bikes, and changing our tires, and fixing pedals, chains, derailers, cassettes; the list could go on for a long time. It is great but I forget about the outside world.
The tour tries to deal with this as well by talking about the cause we are riding for, poverty, and providing opportunities to do service projects in the various communities into which we rode. All of which are good things. Furthermore – I do not take the time to read the newspaper or check the internet for updates of what is happening in the wider world – I hardly do that in my regular daily life. So this insulation from the world is self-imposed, particularly when I’m having a good time. And it isn’t really too bad, but sometimes I am startled again by the wider world and other people and it surprises me.
There was an excellent scene in a delightful little animated movie where a critic is going to determine the fate of a restaurant that used to be popular, fell in the public standings, and had revived quite a bit of hype because it was going in a new direction. When the waiter asked for the critic’s choice of meal Anton Ego (the critic) said he would like a dish of perspective along with some very fine wine. He sliced through all the fervour of the public and the press, and demanded a meal of the quality the excitement suggested.
It is just a silly little scene, in a silly little movie, but today I was reminded that life is sometimes seen from too small a scope, and that the wider picture, needs to be taken into account.
Adieu, until next time.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Falling in love with Colorado
I have made it through the mountains, and what a trip that has been. The highlight was climbing our last pass - all the way up to 11 300 feet, and sailing down into Denver. It was such a georgeous day and we dropped about 7000 feet in elevation coming into Denver. We rode through a beautiful canyon for a number of kilometers, and we just owned the road. It was superb, and certainly one of my best days cycling. I also started drinking gatorade way earlier in the day, and I tried a red bull. That was an intense ride - I was cruising strong for about 2 hours. It was incredible.
Some of the rides weren't the most fabulous though, although I must say I am happy to admit I climbed every inch of those mountains, and I am certainly proud to say it. There was one day where we didn't have an elevation chart to freak out about and that was one of the most fun days I've had. We were climbing forever, and everyone was checking their back tires to see if they were flat because the grade was so slight that you felt you were on level ground, but you couldn't get a regular pace going. Two fellows, Alex and John, who are totally sweet, came up to me as we started climbing the never-ending 8% climb and they helped me up the mountain for a little while. I was peddalling so fast I could barely breathe. They stuck with me to the top, and then tore after a semi-trailer drafting down the mountain. Apparently Alex got up to 881/2 km/hour. Total insanity.
A little later I was riding with Annette into the town of Dinosaur Colorado and it was just a hoot. We had some major climbing, but then these phenomenal rolling hills and I was just belting out "Gloria, Gloria, can I get your number, Gloria" over and over and over again. I was so blastedly loud, and no one minded because we were in the middle of the desert. The town of Dinosaur was very fun because we camped on Stegasaurus Road - STEGASAURUS RD. It was kind of funny.
I was very happy to leave Utah, and Idaho for that matter. Colorado has significantly more variety, and it is just so beautiful. I've had my fill of sage brush and desert. And, I really like water, of any sort. To drink, to look at, to fall upon me (although just a little, particularly when it is really hot).
I have a lot of thoughts that I'd like to post on my blog every day, particularly in the early morning. There is so much to see, and so many thoughts go running through my brain. One particular thought that keeps coming up is that we need to re-evaluate metaphors that say downhill is a bad direction; as in "life is going downhill" or "it's all downhill after x # of years" Whoever thought that up has never puffed up a mountain, and had the incredible pleasure of sailing down the other side. Downhill, for the most part, is wonderful. Although, I am pretty specific about exactly what kind of hill I love flying down. Steeper isn't necessarily better. And new, slimmer tires mean I can really move. Sometimes. It's quite fun because I just sail down the hills sitting up and catching all the wind I can, beating alot of boys who work very hard to go downhill super fast. It's great until the next hill comes.
Well, off to bed. Thanks for all your notes and encouragement and patience with my lack of blogging. You are all wonderful. Until I type again, adieu.
Some of the rides weren't the most fabulous though, although I must say I am happy to admit I climbed every inch of those mountains, and I am certainly proud to say it. There was one day where we didn't have an elevation chart to freak out about and that was one of the most fun days I've had. We were climbing forever, and everyone was checking their back tires to see if they were flat because the grade was so slight that you felt you were on level ground, but you couldn't get a regular pace going. Two fellows, Alex and John, who are totally sweet, came up to me as we started climbing the never-ending 8% climb and they helped me up the mountain for a little while. I was peddalling so fast I could barely breathe. They stuck with me to the top, and then tore after a semi-trailer drafting down the mountain. Apparently Alex got up to 881/2 km/hour. Total insanity.
A little later I was riding with Annette into the town of Dinosaur Colorado and it was just a hoot. We had some major climbing, but then these phenomenal rolling hills and I was just belting out "Gloria, Gloria, can I get your number, Gloria" over and over and over again. I was so blastedly loud, and no one minded because we were in the middle of the desert. The town of Dinosaur was very fun because we camped on Stegasaurus Road - STEGASAURUS RD. It was kind of funny.
I was very happy to leave Utah, and Idaho for that matter. Colorado has significantly more variety, and it is just so beautiful. I've had my fill of sage brush and desert. And, I really like water, of any sort. To drink, to look at, to fall upon me (although just a little, particularly when it is really hot).
I have a lot of thoughts that I'd like to post on my blog every day, particularly in the early morning. There is so much to see, and so many thoughts go running through my brain. One particular thought that keeps coming up is that we need to re-evaluate metaphors that say downhill is a bad direction; as in "life is going downhill" or "it's all downhill after x # of years" Whoever thought that up has never puffed up a mountain, and had the incredible pleasure of sailing down the other side. Downhill, for the most part, is wonderful. Although, I am pretty specific about exactly what kind of hill I love flying down. Steeper isn't necessarily better. And new, slimmer tires mean I can really move. Sometimes. It's quite fun because I just sail down the hills sitting up and catching all the wind I can, beating alot of boys who work very hard to go downhill super fast. It's great until the next hill comes.
Well, off to bed. Thanks for all your notes and encouragement and patience with my lack of blogging. You are all wonderful. Until I type again, adieu.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Late night apologies and short posts
The camp is totally quiet and I should have been in bed at least an hour ago, but here i sit, finally resurrecting the technological bits of the trip. A lot of people hop on their computers as soon as the tent is up and the shower has been had, but me, well, I like to drink beer too much I guess.
We were in Boise on Sunday, and I don't really know how the day escaped on me, but it did, and so I'm late in the posting department. my apologies.
We had our longest ride so far today, 130 km, which of course we will be beating by another 10 or so tomorrow. It was quite a beautiful day, and not nearly so hot as yesterday, for which I was very thankful. I'm pretty sure some heat stroke was in the works, but the two fellows I was riding with were very good to me, and I cooled down in an irrigation sprinkler for a while.
The ride for the past couple of days have been through the desert, and where there is not desert there is significant human-made irrigation systems that make Idaho a land where you can find a lot of potatoes. Sometimes I wonder if we are manipulating the environment too much, but the dairy farm owner who gave us chocolate milk this morning seemed to think otherwise. Apparently the ground is rich in nutrients for growing all sorts of good things, if you add the water.
Today was a day filled with activity. There was the aforementioned dairy farm; an enormous operation that had cows rotating on a carousal while they were milking. Then there was a stop at this magnificent canyon that just opened up all of sudden, in the middle of nowhere. It is called the snake river canyon. While we were crossing the bridge, an enormous height from the riverbed, the truck caused the whole structure to quiver. Some of us got off our bikes to take pictures, and images of broken swinging bridges were passing through my bones. It was kinda freaky, but, once we were across, a fellow from Australia went and jumped off the bridge in an unpacked parachute. It was really cool, but I found I missed the most exhilarating part because I was staring through my camera. So, I have a video of this guy jumping, but I missed it in live action. I'm not sure how I feel about it.
After that we had a delicious lunch put on by the RCA church of Twin Falls Idaho. It was totally great, and leaving at 6:45 a.m. meant that I was there in decent time, along with a lot of other folks. There was an excursion to a giant waterfall, apparently taller than Niagra falls, but I declined because they were a couple of kilometers away, and coming back up would mean a climb at a 12% grade - not my cup of tea. As it is today, and every day, is about 30 km too long.
I jest, mostly, but I want to tell more stories.
For the next time ~ a reminder *Agatha and barbed wire fences
* dealing with 109 degree farenheit heat and talking about cowboys in the desert
* the town of huntington
I must go to bed, and it's not even made. Here's to riding too long in the saddle- here we go again.
love,
Theresa
We were in Boise on Sunday, and I don't really know how the day escaped on me, but it did, and so I'm late in the posting department. my apologies.
We had our longest ride so far today, 130 km, which of course we will be beating by another 10 or so tomorrow. It was quite a beautiful day, and not nearly so hot as yesterday, for which I was very thankful. I'm pretty sure some heat stroke was in the works, but the two fellows I was riding with were very good to me, and I cooled down in an irrigation sprinkler for a while.
The ride for the past couple of days have been through the desert, and where there is not desert there is significant human-made irrigation systems that make Idaho a land where you can find a lot of potatoes. Sometimes I wonder if we are manipulating the environment too much, but the dairy farm owner who gave us chocolate milk this morning seemed to think otherwise. Apparently the ground is rich in nutrients for growing all sorts of good things, if you add the water.
Today was a day filled with activity. There was the aforementioned dairy farm; an enormous operation that had cows rotating on a carousal while they were milking. Then there was a stop at this magnificent canyon that just opened up all of sudden, in the middle of nowhere. It is called the snake river canyon. While we were crossing the bridge, an enormous height from the riverbed, the truck caused the whole structure to quiver. Some of us got off our bikes to take pictures, and images of broken swinging bridges were passing through my bones. It was kinda freaky, but, once we were across, a fellow from Australia went and jumped off the bridge in an unpacked parachute. It was really cool, but I found I missed the most exhilarating part because I was staring through my camera. So, I have a video of this guy jumping, but I missed it in live action. I'm not sure how I feel about it.
After that we had a delicious lunch put on by the RCA church of Twin Falls Idaho. It was totally great, and leaving at 6:45 a.m. meant that I was there in decent time, along with a lot of other folks. There was an excursion to a giant waterfall, apparently taller than Niagra falls, but I declined because they were a couple of kilometers away, and coming back up would mean a climb at a 12% grade - not my cup of tea. As it is today, and every day, is about 30 km too long.
I jest, mostly, but I want to tell more stories.
For the next time ~ a reminder *Agatha and barbed wire fences
* dealing with 109 degree farenheit heat and talking about cowboys in the desert
* the town of huntington
I must go to bed, and it's not even made. Here's to riding too long in the saddle- here we go again.
love,
Theresa
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Week 1 Down - 8 to go.
I am currently sitting in the shade of a most enormous tree overlooking a beautiful river in Kennewick, Washington. It has been a deliciously lazy day full of eating, hanging around, meeting some people, eating some more, swimming in the river and all kinds of wonderful sunday afternoon things.
oh, and i'm getting a crash course in using my digital camera, and trying to stay connected to the internet. challenges both, let me tell you.
so, i have been on the road for a week and i am no closer to being able to believe that i'm actually doing what i've set out to do. It is one of the strangest things, but here I sit with 144 other cyclists, and we are taking on this massive trip, and it doesn't seem like such a big deal. we just get up together every morning and put about 80-100 kilometers under our belt. no big deal.
Well, Tuesday was a pretty big deal, and Wednesday for that matter, but I'm getting a head of myself.
We embarked on our great adventure already a week a go. There was a great and not very exciting ceremony of dipping our rear wheels in the Pacific ocean, or at least some tributary. The water was salty, but the expanse of the ocean was not behind us. I was only disappointed until I learned how much further we would have to ride if we were actually leaving from the coast, and i think it is a couple hundred kilometers. No big deal if you are driving, but taking on another couple of centuries, right at the beginning of the trip... I don't know about that. The ceremony was mostly for publicity, and I think the whole thing will mean a lot more on the other side of the continent. I was very good in getting sand all over our relatively clean bikes, but I had some excellent help in cleaning it out. (pic of dad running)
We left in groups that we were supposed to ride in for the whole day. My group left seventh, and immediately, not 200 m down the road we had a flat tire. The group split up and I ended up going with the "faster" bunch. By the time we were all organized group 11 had already passed us, and we were determined not to let final group pass as well. We ended up moving our group back up in the long line of cyclists, and returned to our spot as number 7. Seattle is a beautiful city, and it is set up well for cyclists. We rode bike paths all the way out for approximately 30/35 km. The whole trip was just lovely and exciting and all things considered very decent in terms of exertion. The people I was with were very good cyclists, and very kind to me. They stuck me at the front (except on the hills, but I will moan more about them later) and we road through to Sultan. That day was a about 80 km or so.
It was baking hot outside, and quite a number of people had time before super, so we decided to go swimming in the stream/river just outside the town. It is a fast flowing glacial river, and it was about the coldest thing i ever remember jumping into. You'd walk a little up river, and hop in; yelp quite loudly about how dastardly cold you were; float in a state of numbness for a couple of minute, and then start swimming like mad to get out of the current and return to shore. It took over 5 minutes to get warm again, but it completely cooled me down for the evening.
The food at camp is amazing, as are our cooks and support team. We just have loads and loads of food. You are welcome to come up for seconds, but one plate is usually enough to manage for quite a long time. After summer there is a peleton meeting where everyone in camp gathers and does a kind of mass check in. We count how many people have fallen, and have had flats. If there were any interesting people we met on the road wondering why there are 150 people biking around in bright yellow safety vests. It is quite fun to see their expressions when you tell them how far you are going.
After the peleton, there is a time for small groups. My group has 4 other women, and we are usually finished the quickest. We read our "shifting gears" booklet and just chat about things; how the day went, what the best way to stretch is, almost hitting police a police car (that was me, but that was also on day two); you know the things you chat about when you don't really know people, but are supposed to get to know really well.
And then bed. I have been hitting the hay earlier and earlier as the week goes on. There is just a lot to pack into a day what with biking, setting up camp, eating, going to the gear truck, cleaning up your dishes, packing lunch, going to the gear truck, cleaning water bottles, having shower, going to the gear truck. It just all takes a long time. Washing out your jersey and shorts every day, by hand. I've never appreciated a laundry machine so much.
All in all the work isn't so bad. We are each set up with two laundry baskets for our stuff (clothing and paraphenalia) and one duffel bag for our tent, chair, sleeping bag and mat etc. Each day there is a "sweep team" that loads and unloads the semi trailer that houses all these items. They also help serve dinner and breakfast, hand out lots and lots of Purell, and cycle at the end of everyone to ensure that no one gets left behind. I believe that my first sweep duty will be tomorrow.
But, back to the cycling. I survived this week, absolutely, and I've enjoyed the last three days because they have been easy days, and beautiful weather, but, let me tell you, day two and three were about the hardest things I think I ever physically done. Particularly that Tuesday. It was a 127 km day and we were crossing Steven's Pass. that is an elevation of 4000 and some odd feet. There was a 6% grade on the highway and that is bloody steep. We climbed for I think 70 odd kilometers. I had meant to leave way earlier than I did, but we only rolled out of camp at 8:00 in the morning. I was on the road for 11 1/2 hours that day, and quite a number of them were at the super slow speed of 6 km/hr. That's it. It was a very long long day. And it was hot to boot. But, I made it to the top and was thoroughly delighted to do so. The ride down was almost as intense, and almost as long. It is really quite difficult to ride downhill because, I’m terrified of heights, and we were really high up. We were biking along some snow drifts at the height of the pass. And man, you can really fly down the mountain highways if you want to. So, while I was very glad that I wasn’t climbing anymore, the ride down took a lot of energy.
We went into the town of Levensworth that evening, one of the cutest towns I’ve ever seen. It is built to look like buildings from the Swiss Alps. I desperately wanted to go for a beer that evening but it was all I could do to stay awake for the meetings. Bed was an early companion that night, and just about every night this week. 5 bells rings mighty early, and sleeping later just makes the day take longer.
Wednesday was another significant climb, but it was less steep than Tuesday. I think everything will be less steep than Tuesday. But it was another long day in the saddle, and the saddle is becoming an increasing pain in the ass. No gory details, but it was hard to stay sitting for very long. I wanted to get off every couple of kilometers to give myself a break. At one point I was going so slow the spiders were building cobwebs on me. We rode into Yakima that evening, a distance of around 93 km, which was about 34 km too many for me, but, feeling intrepid, I finished the day out. I also had a flat coming down the mountain, and various people stopped to help me because my brakes were too tight to get the wheel off. It took about an hour for everything to get sorted out.
Thursday was a wonderful day as we traveled through the Yakima River Canyon. The scenery rapidly changed from mountainous to scrub in a manner of 10/15 km. I have never seen such a beautiful and barren landscape. The hills were tawny yellow and enormous with these thistly bushes all over. They were a muted flax colour giving the whole landscape this look that it had faded in the sun. It was magnificent, and mostly down hill.
Friday was another decent day, a lot downhill and through the plains of this scrub country. They are doing significant agriculture here and there is irrigation everywhere. It is beautiful and lush and when you raise your eyes to the hills, there are the tawny sentinels reminding you about the actual nature of this landscape. A lot of people make their living doing this farm work, but my mind still flirts with the immense use of water to farm in a desert.
But, yesterday was by far one of my favourite cycling days. I finally felt rejuvenated from the exhaustion of the mountain climb, and being on relatively flat ground, closer yet than anything to my traditional prairies, I felt I was really cycling the way I had been training. The day was a delightful 80 km and we ended up in this fantastic park overlooking the river, as I mentioned at the start. It is beautiful and supper is stewing.
My hope is to try and write more than once/week, but I must confess is has to be my last priority. I’m doing really well, and enjoying myself immensely. I will do my best to keep updating, but if I don’t happen too, I promise, at the very least to catch up on Sundays.
Love always,
Theresa.
oh, and i'm getting a crash course in using my digital camera, and trying to stay connected to the internet. challenges both, let me tell you.
so, i have been on the road for a week and i am no closer to being able to believe that i'm actually doing what i've set out to do. It is one of the strangest things, but here I sit with 144 other cyclists, and we are taking on this massive trip, and it doesn't seem like such a big deal. we just get up together every morning and put about 80-100 kilometers under our belt. no big deal.
Well, Tuesday was a pretty big deal, and Wednesday for that matter, but I'm getting a head of myself.
We embarked on our great adventure already a week a go. There was a great and not very exciting ceremony of dipping our rear wheels in the Pacific ocean, or at least some tributary. The water was salty, but the expanse of the ocean was not behind us. I was only disappointed until I learned how much further we would have to ride if we were actually leaving from the coast, and i think it is a couple hundred kilometers. No big deal if you are driving, but taking on another couple of centuries, right at the beginning of the trip... I don't know about that. The ceremony was mostly for publicity, and I think the whole thing will mean a lot more on the other side of the continent. I was very good in getting sand all over our relatively clean bikes, but I had some excellent help in cleaning it out. (pic of dad running)
We left in groups that we were supposed to ride in for the whole day. My group left seventh, and immediately, not 200 m down the road we had a flat tire. The group split up and I ended up going with the "faster" bunch. By the time we were all organized group 11 had already passed us, and we were determined not to let final group pass as well. We ended up moving our group back up in the long line of cyclists, and returned to our spot as number 7. Seattle is a beautiful city, and it is set up well for cyclists. We rode bike paths all the way out for approximately 30/35 km. The whole trip was just lovely and exciting and all things considered very decent in terms of exertion. The people I was with were very good cyclists, and very kind to me. They stuck me at the front (except on the hills, but I will moan more about them later) and we road through to Sultan. That day was a about 80 km or so.
It was baking hot outside, and quite a number of people had time before super, so we decided to go swimming in the stream/river just outside the town. It is a fast flowing glacial river, and it was about the coldest thing i ever remember jumping into. You'd walk a little up river, and hop in; yelp quite loudly about how dastardly cold you were; float in a state of numbness for a couple of minute, and then start swimming like mad to get out of the current and return to shore. It took over 5 minutes to get warm again, but it completely cooled me down for the evening.
The food at camp is amazing, as are our cooks and support team. We just have loads and loads of food. You are welcome to come up for seconds, but one plate is usually enough to manage for quite a long time. After summer there is a peleton meeting where everyone in camp gathers and does a kind of mass check in. We count how many people have fallen, and have had flats. If there were any interesting people we met on the road wondering why there are 150 people biking around in bright yellow safety vests. It is quite fun to see their expressions when you tell them how far you are going.
After the peleton, there is a time for small groups. My group has 4 other women, and we are usually finished the quickest. We read our "shifting gears" booklet and just chat about things; how the day went, what the best way to stretch is, almost hitting police a police car (that was me, but that was also on day two); you know the things you chat about when you don't really know people, but are supposed to get to know really well.
And then bed. I have been hitting the hay earlier and earlier as the week goes on. There is just a lot to pack into a day what with biking, setting up camp, eating, going to the gear truck, cleaning up your dishes, packing lunch, going to the gear truck, cleaning water bottles, having shower, going to the gear truck. It just all takes a long time. Washing out your jersey and shorts every day, by hand. I've never appreciated a laundry machine so much.
All in all the work isn't so bad. We are each set up with two laundry baskets for our stuff (clothing and paraphenalia) and one duffel bag for our tent, chair, sleeping bag and mat etc. Each day there is a "sweep team" that loads and unloads the semi trailer that houses all these items. They also help serve dinner and breakfast, hand out lots and lots of Purell, and cycle at the end of everyone to ensure that no one gets left behind. I believe that my first sweep duty will be tomorrow.
But, back to the cycling. I survived this week, absolutely, and I've enjoyed the last three days because they have been easy days, and beautiful weather, but, let me tell you, day two and three were about the hardest things I think I ever physically done. Particularly that Tuesday. It was a 127 km day and we were crossing Steven's Pass. that is an elevation of 4000 and some odd feet. There was a 6% grade on the highway and that is bloody steep. We climbed for I think 70 odd kilometers. I had meant to leave way earlier than I did, but we only rolled out of camp at 8:00 in the morning. I was on the road for 11 1/2 hours that day, and quite a number of them were at the super slow speed of 6 km/hr. That's it. It was a very long long day. And it was hot to boot. But, I made it to the top and was thoroughly delighted to do so. The ride down was almost as intense, and almost as long. It is really quite difficult to ride downhill because, I’m terrified of heights, and we were really high up. We were biking along some snow drifts at the height of the pass. And man, you can really fly down the mountain highways if you want to. So, while I was very glad that I wasn’t climbing anymore, the ride down took a lot of energy.
We went into the town of Levensworth that evening, one of the cutest towns I’ve ever seen. It is built to look like buildings from the Swiss Alps. I desperately wanted to go for a beer that evening but it was all I could do to stay awake for the meetings. Bed was an early companion that night, and just about every night this week. 5 bells rings mighty early, and sleeping later just makes the day take longer.
Wednesday was another significant climb, but it was less steep than Tuesday. I think everything will be less steep than Tuesday. But it was another long day in the saddle, and the saddle is becoming an increasing pain in the ass. No gory details, but it was hard to stay sitting for very long. I wanted to get off every couple of kilometers to give myself a break. At one point I was going so slow the spiders were building cobwebs on me. We rode into Yakima that evening, a distance of around 93 km, which was about 34 km too many for me, but, feeling intrepid, I finished the day out. I also had a flat coming down the mountain, and various people stopped to help me because my brakes were too tight to get the wheel off. It took about an hour for everything to get sorted out.
Thursday was a wonderful day as we traveled through the Yakima River Canyon. The scenery rapidly changed from mountainous to scrub in a manner of 10/15 km. I have never seen such a beautiful and barren landscape. The hills were tawny yellow and enormous with these thistly bushes all over. They were a muted flax colour giving the whole landscape this look that it had faded in the sun. It was magnificent, and mostly down hill.
Friday was another decent day, a lot downhill and through the plains of this scrub country. They are doing significant agriculture here and there is irrigation everywhere. It is beautiful and lush and when you raise your eyes to the hills, there are the tawny sentinels reminding you about the actual nature of this landscape. A lot of people make their living doing this farm work, but my mind still flirts with the immense use of water to farm in a desert.
But, yesterday was by far one of my favourite cycling days. I finally felt rejuvenated from the exhaustion of the mountain climb, and being on relatively flat ground, closer yet than anything to my traditional prairies, I felt I was really cycling the way I had been training. The day was a delightful 80 km and we ended up in this fantastic park overlooking the river, as I mentioned at the start. It is beautiful and supper is stewing.
My hope is to try and write more than once/week, but I must confess is has to be my last priority. I’m doing really well, and enjoying myself immensely. I will do my best to keep updating, but if I don’t happen too, I promise, at the very least to catch up on Sundays.
Love always,
Theresa.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
It is late Sunday evening, and a number of Sea to Sea cyclists are hanging out on the phenomenal patio area that, if the sun were still shining, overlooks a fabulous view of tributaries/rivers/bodies of water that extend to the Pacific Ocean. There are hazy mountains in the distance, and I must say, The University of Washinton is a kick-ass campus. The buildings are old and bricklayed, although there is not any ivy climbing the walls.
Everyone is taking their last deep breath before tomorrow.
There is a very familiar feeling to this laissez-faire attitude. I feel like I'm back at college, hanging out until all hours of the morning, just shooting the shit. Except that is is only 11p.m. and people are starting to move to their achingly hot bedroom. 6 bells rings early, and tomorrow, we start the tour.
The college feeling is compounded by the fact that there are approximately 12 students or former students from good ole King's College, and that forms an easy aquaintance between us, and the various other folks we are meeting. A good friend who rode the tour in 2005 told me that there were a number of cliques that people quickly fell into; whether by speed, age, or other association. We've had a couple of comments about that, and the group certainly isn't static, but I do hope that I have enough courage and gumption to continue seeking out new people.
It was a bit of a difficult thing yesterday, when, all of a sudden, people whom you had been reading through the email, were met, face to face. We had a "meet'n'greet" where you are just going up to strangers, breaking into circles, and trying to get to know one another. Being an almost exclusively dutch crowd, the bingo was a flyin' around. But, I have a tendency to gravitate to the familiar in such situations, which makes meeting new people a very hard thing indeed.
But 24 hours has already done alot in terms of helping the group, as a whole, to gel. Or, it has caused the mini-groups to gel a lot easier.
I haven't been on my bike for a week now, and yet I'm surprisingly un-flusted about the ride tomorrow. My disbelief has not waned, even though the meetings, both large and small have definately started. I have a 14" by 3' cubby hole in which to store my things, and a duffle bag with my sleeping arrangements loaded in the gear truck. I've checked out the kitchen truck, and had a bike safety training course. I don't know what will make it any more real, but I haven't hit this moment of wonderment. My fear is, as yet, held at bay, and I don't know what to make of it. None of it feels real.
There was a celebration rally today; a gathering of the Christian Reformed and Reformed Church of America. And while the talking was a little drawn out there were a few very powerful moments. There is a man who is riding, from the pacific to the atlantic, who used to be in a wheelchair due to Multiple Sclerosis. He told us there would be 1 450 000 pedal strokes between here and Jersey City. Oh boy.
All in all it is a full and fun atmosphere. Tomorrow to bike. We'll just have to see how that goes.
Everyone is taking their last deep breath before tomorrow.
There is a very familiar feeling to this laissez-faire attitude. I feel like I'm back at college, hanging out until all hours of the morning, just shooting the shit. Except that is is only 11p.m. and people are starting to move to their achingly hot bedroom. 6 bells rings early, and tomorrow, we start the tour.
The college feeling is compounded by the fact that there are approximately 12 students or former students from good ole King's College, and that forms an easy aquaintance between us, and the various other folks we are meeting. A good friend who rode the tour in 2005 told me that there were a number of cliques that people quickly fell into; whether by speed, age, or other association. We've had a couple of comments about that, and the group certainly isn't static, but I do hope that I have enough courage and gumption to continue seeking out new people.
It was a bit of a difficult thing yesterday, when, all of a sudden, people whom you had been reading through the email, were met, face to face. We had a "meet'n'greet" where you are just going up to strangers, breaking into circles, and trying to get to know one another. Being an almost exclusively dutch crowd, the bingo was a flyin' around. But, I have a tendency to gravitate to the familiar in such situations, which makes meeting new people a very hard thing indeed.
But 24 hours has already done alot in terms of helping the group, as a whole, to gel. Or, it has caused the mini-groups to gel a lot easier.
I haven't been on my bike for a week now, and yet I'm surprisingly un-flusted about the ride tomorrow. My disbelief has not waned, even though the meetings, both large and small have definately started. I have a 14" by 3' cubby hole in which to store my things, and a duffle bag with my sleeping arrangements loaded in the gear truck. I've checked out the kitchen truck, and had a bike safety training course. I don't know what will make it any more real, but I haven't hit this moment of wonderment. My fear is, as yet, held at bay, and I don't know what to make of it. None of it feels real.
There was a celebration rally today; a gathering of the Christian Reformed and Reformed Church of America. And while the talking was a little drawn out there were a few very powerful moments. There is a man who is riding, from the pacific to the atlantic, who used to be in a wheelchair due to Multiple Sclerosis. He told us there would be 1 450 000 pedal strokes between here and Jersey City. Oh boy.
All in all it is a full and fun atmosphere. Tomorrow to bike. We'll just have to see how that goes.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Here we go...
This is my first of the weekly blog I am setting up. I have nothing to say really, except, my arse is terribly sore.
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