Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Furthermore and ecetera

“The end of THE END is the best place to begin THE END, because if you read THE END from the beginning of the beginning of THE END to the end of the end of THE END, you will arrive at the end.” 
- Lemony Snicket, The End


I hope that the above quote seems as confusing and true to you as it does to us. It certainly casts an appropriate light onto the events and thoughts of the last few days.

We left off in Silver City, where we embarked on the beginning of the end, which in fact was not really the end as we still needed to ride to Tucson. We intended to conquer the last 125 miles of the designated Great Divide Mountain Bike Route in Antelope Wells by the end of the day. The task seemed simple as we had plenty of water sources, easy elevation, and plenty of pavement. We waved goodbye to Patrick as soon as the sunlight made its appearance and took off with feelings of excitement and anticipation.

Ooooooh, of course something should go wrong! The first 40 miles were fast, beautiful and fun. The surrounding desert area was filled with yuccas that gave the appearance of large ostriches. We arrived in Separ feeling home free and took our time roaming through souvenirs and postcards. Just as we were returning to the road, Josh discovered yet another flat tire. We sat down to patch it up, but had a difficult time locating the puncture and nervous to use a new tube. Finally we were off again, and having lost an hour meant that we needed to make up time on the next section if we were to reach the border before sundown.

We rode quickly to Hachita, the final resting point before the last push to the border. The day was turning out to be extremely hot and we were just ready to be done. After meeting with Sam Hughes, the legendary  Antelope Wells shuttler, and arranging our pick up time, we set off for the border- finally. 

The last 45 miles are on the paved "Lonely Highway." At any other time, I think we would have considered the view strangely pretty with the looming mountains that framed the desolate and endless road. While we did see some entertaining creatures- the biggest grasshoppers you'll ever see, dead rattle snakes and tons of hairy tarantulas- the road was painfully boring, and our legs could barely keep up. The Lonely Highway seemed to drag on for hours, until we finally viewed the END. We pushed as hard as we could, riding straight up to the Mexican border line and parking our bikes. 

For most this would have been the final final end- the last day of a long journey, with a stopping point that has been shared with thousands of cyclists and hikers in years past. For us, though, our journey continued on.

The next few days of riding seemed to be the hardest of all. For so long we had woken up with the intention of finishing the biking route, from Canada to Mexico. It is hard to explain the change that we experienced as we continued on to Arizona. It seemed as though it was time to celebrate, and yet we were still working. It seemed that we should be looking back, and processing all that we had accomplished. We were so ready to be in Tucson, on the train, and back at home, but we still had more miles to earn... So, on we rode, through 90+ temperatures, only managing 20-40 miles a day. More searching for water, many more flat tires, continuous sore muscles....we were finally ready to be done and to end our chapter.

Appropriately, as we finished up our last day of official riding, we fixed 2 flats before we could reach our destination. We arrived at our friend Robin's house in the full heat of the day (102 degrees), and walked into the blessed sanctuary of air conditioning. We've spent the last few days relaxing, processing, and preparing for our final leg of the journey. A few minutes ago, we had our friend Gen on the phone and had our official celebration- while Gen opened a beer in Virginia, we corked a bottle of champagne and cheers-ed each other- finally!!! (Congratulations friend!)

There are so many things we are looking forward to in the comforts of home. One of the things I hope to enjoy soon is a few still moments where I can look back and begin to remember and process all that has happened. More importantly, we are excited to foster the new relationships we've begun to build along our journey, and to start thinking of the next adventure. Because really, there is no end to a journey. There's only "volume 2," the sequel, furthermore and ecetera. Stay tuned.....


The End.

For Now.

O, and look for more pictures soonish!



Saturday, September 15, 2012

The Beauty in Wheels

A constant theme on our journey has been curiosity. Folks will pull over their cars, stop at gas stations, walk over to our dinner table, curious to ask us questions about our journey. One of the common questions has been, what have you learned? Of course, there are hundreds of answers to that question. For instance, I've learned that I have a deep affinity for mayonnaise that I'd never tapped into before- mayo goes great in just about every backcountry dinner menu!

One other answer to that question is one I've thought about often while riding. I've learned that a bicycle is one of the greatest blessings in my life. A bike can take you just about anywhere. And when it can't roll any longer, you can pick up your bike and carry it until it will. A bike will carry your groceries. It will drive you to work, and you'll notice things on your street you never would have turned your head towards in a car. It will help you save money instead of buying gas, insurance, oil changes, tune ups and endless repairs. Riding a bike will attract perfect strangers to walk over and ask you questions. A bike will help you stay fit, just by riding to work everyday. Your bike will take you on endless circles around the block when you are just having a no-good awful bad day. My bike has taught me how to be a stronger woman, how to fix every bit and piece of it. Any bike that has turning wheels will teach you something new if you just sit down in the saddle and let it roll.

This has been our constant motivation to ride on, even when our knees hurt, when our saddle sores were at their worst, when we were sick of more rice/beans/mayo/tuna dinners, and even when we were so close to the end and everything went wrong. We have to get those bikes for the Max Higbee Center, so we just kept riding. A bike is such a beautiful and rewarding thing to have and experience, and so easy. For us. A bike for the Max Higbee Center will change many people's lives. One of the many unfair things in the world is that bikes that are appropriate for folks with physical and/or developmental disabilities are expensive, inaccessible and hard to find. Tomorrow we will ride to the Mexico border, so elated that just a few more miles, just a few more pennies and we will have helped MHC get those bikes!

I called Hallie at the Max Higbee Center today, and determined we have raise $2347!! That means we are only $653 away from our goal of $3,000!! If you are inspired to donate to the cause, just go to this website and fill out the form http://www.maxhigbee.org/pennies-for-bikes.html, or email me at jennym1503@gmail.com and I can tell you how/where to send a check.

Already donated? Don't have the extra funds to spare? You can still contribute to the cause. We hope that by reading our stories you have been inspired to dust off that saddle and chain and get those wheels rolling. Already a cyclist? Grab your neighbor, your friend, that co-worker who's getting the winter/cubicle blues. Pick a destination, or don't. Teach someone how to fix a flat. Most of all, if your wheels roll you through Bellingham, be sure to look us up so that we can spoil you with all of the kindness we need to pass on!

Happy cycling all! And all you folks at MHC.....adaptive cycles here we goooo!!!!!!!





Christmas in Silver City

This post is dedicated to all of the "Santa Clauses" around the country who sent us gifts of words and chocolate to Silver City, New Mexico.

Words can't even express how difficult the last week has been for us- over 13 flat tires, broken bike pieces, running out of food and water, being stuck in the mud, riding in the dark, crashing into mud puddles, cycing, yelling, and for the first time in 3 months, not wanting to get back on the saddle. One of the only things motivating us to continue on was wondering what surprises awaited us at the post office. We didn't want to get our hopes up too much though, knowing that there might not be anything.

When Patrick drove us to the post office yesterday, I could hardly contain my anticipation. Of course, we had to jump through hoops, red tape, and ridiculous postal regulations- the postal clerk at first refused to hand over our parcels due to some strange rule...little did he know the determination we had to get our hands on those letters! Finally, we carried our precious treasures back to the house to open....

One at a time, we opened our presents like kids on Christmas morning. We were so surprised at how many great letters of encouragement we received from all of you!! Some made us laugh, a couple made me cry, and all of them I tucked into our journals to peek at when the journey gets tough again. Oh yeah, and the chocolate is already long eaten!

Many thanks to all of you! We'll carry your words with us as we reach the end. And Chuck & George- you are quite right- the biggest challenge is yet to come. We'll spend the next few days trying to picture adjusting back to "normalcy," while trying to hold on to those pieces of serenity, simplicity, and kindness we've picked up along the way. So much to contemplate on that train ride home...

Merry Christmas xoxo


"I'm so glad something finally went wrong"....

We've often thought about all the things that could possibly go wrong on a trip like ours. You could easily get eaten by a bear, burst your water bladder, get sick, taco your tire, break a bone....These are the things we never say aloud for fear of jinxing ourselves. For the last few weeks, I've thought to myself, "I can't believe how little has gone wrong." But of course I never voiced that to the others, because if I did, of course something would happen....

If you read our previous post from Abiquiu, you'll remember that we set off with no more spare tubes and very few patches. We rode away from the wonderful community of Abiquiu with anxiety filling our stomachs and repeating our mantra: "Do NOT get a flat!"...about 15 miles out of town I noticed my rear tire slightly deflated. I played the flat tire denial game, pumping up the tire, riding, pumping, riding, before finally flipping the bike upside down and using a precious patch to cover the hole made from a goathead thorn. On we continued, wondering if we could possibly make it to Grants and avoid the millions of thorns littering the roads. That afternoon, we arrived to the top of Polvedera Mesa, where we waited for Gen. He arrived to find us taking naps on top of the large boulders, and easily convinced us to set up camp for the evening. With many hours of daylight left, we threw ourselves into a backcountry craft project of sorts....how to build a free standing unicycle out of nothing but sticks, rocks and litter....scroll down to see the resulting piece of art! It's amazing what you can create when 3 crazy cyclists have some time to spare.

On we rode to Cuba, where we finally experienced the New Mexican cuisine we've dreamed about. At El Bruno's Cafe, we gorged on New Mexican Hot Tamales....spicy, delicious, and the great end to a rough day of terrain! Our shared hotel room that evening was a sight to see. Rarely on this trip have we had a full kitchen at our fingertips, so of course we took a full day off just to cook and eat. Taquito's, pizza, hashbrowns & eggs & sausage, kiwis, pasta, more tamales... and avocados of course. It's always a successful  rest day when avocados are involved.

We left the grocery stores and pavement behind again, as we made the final stretch to Grants, where we would find bike tubes, patches and hopefully more avocados. The wind was very strong, but the terrain was absolutely stunning. Down into dry arroyos, over mesas, through oases and then back into the forest again. So far, no more flats, but, unfortunately, Gen joined the flat tire party. Now we all rode in silent worry, spare tubeless and itching for Grants to be on the horizon.

Somehow, by the grace of the powers that be, we all made it safely into Grants. We stocked up on goods at Wal-Mart, picked up our tubes, schlepped our stuff to Motel 6 and then made our tired way over to Denny's. I was astounded as I watched Josh and Gen down huge milkshakes, sodas and ginormous bacon and egg burgers. We were just about to settle up the bill when the couple across the aisle struck up a conversation with us. 30 minutes later, they surprise us with their generosity, insisting on paying for our dinner! Yet another wild wonder of the kind folks we've met. Thanks again Ken and Dianne!!

The next day was epic indeed, even with just the amount of miles needed to travel. It would be 88 miles to Pie Town, and the days were getting shorter. In order for Gen to make the distance, he would have to ride from sun-up to sun-down, with no mechanical problems and few breaks. It didn't help that if it rained, we would be going nowhere- New Mexico roads turn to peanut butter when wet, impossible to ride through...and rain was in the forecast. We all awoke to our alarms at 4:30 am, and you could feel the nervousness in the room. Gen was out the door by 5, using his headlamp to leave town before the sun rose. As Josh and I were leaving to head over to breakfast, I noticed Gen's rain pants on the floor. I raced out the door, knowing that if it rained, he would be miserable without his rain gear. Never have I sprinted so fast on my bike, catching him 2 miles down the road (I received a text from him at breakfast that it had started raining just one hour later!). Josh and I set out after finally getting our packages from the post office, riding into what looked like guaranteed rain, but knowing that now we at least had extra tubes and food. 30 miles into the day, I curved around a bend to see a sight I hate: Josh's bike flipped upside down. We patched the tire, and hurried on. Just 10 miles later, we found Gen frustrated and tired. He had been dealing with a flat tire all day, putting a serious delay into his ride. We stuck around chatting, hoping to lift his spirits, and hoping we would all make it to Pie Town. Another 10 miles, and I see Josh, again, with his bike flipped over. This time we were seriously worried, as lighting was flashing from so many directions, we didn't know which way to flee to. With Josh's tube out, we really started to get worried. Every time we patched a hole, we found another! 6, 7, 8 holes in and no patches left. We raced towards the highway, hoping to get away from the thorns, the sharp lava, the lighting and most of all, the rain. Just a half mile short of the highway, Josh's tube deflated for the last time. In went the fresh and precious new tube, just bought that morning. We had wasted 2 hours of daylight, and Pie Town was still far away. Behind us we sent Gen happy thoughts, hoping that he was dry and warm. Up and down we rode, over hill after hill, and somehow our mileage didn't match up with our maps, and the road seemed to never end. The sun set, and we donned long sleeves and headlamps, only to find that my battery was dead. On we road through the dark, delirious and exhausted.  Somehow, we arrived at the Toaster House in Pie Town, not really knowing what to expect, just hoping we would find warmth and shelter. And did we ever!

The Toaster House is a home dedicated to through travelers, mostly hikers and bikers. Any stranger is welcome, with access to a full pantry and fridge, showers, laundry, books, music, and most of all, beds. When we walked through the door, the very first thing we saw were our packages from Amanda and Jen- our saving graces! The second thing I saw made my neck hurt from double-taking; in the middle of the desert, in a little place called Pie Town where the only thing you can buy is pie, is a little house with a kitchen where there on the counter sat a full package of gluten free pasta. Never have I been so happy to see such a thing! It was a challenge to wait for the water to boil before falling asleep on my feet, but I enjoyed every bite of that lovely pasta (supplemented of course with an avocado)! We were so tired, I fell asleep laughing at Josh who was laying sideways on the bed across the room with his shoes still on....

I woke up to one of the best smells in all the world....freshly brewed, dear, sweet coffee. I blurrily made my way downstairs to find Josh and a fresh pot hanging out in the kitchen. I was disappointed to find that Gen had still not arrived- we were slow to pack up, hoping that he would arrive before we departed. And he did! And of course, he pulled a "Gen" on us, convincing us to take a rest day at the Toaster House, positive that the next day would be drier and warmer...all day it rained while we lounged around the house. They guys indulged in pie (of course), and we spent the afternoon on the porch counting the holes in our tubes (between the two of them, there must have been 13 punctures!). We went to bed early at 9, knowing that in order to beat the rain and somehow make it in time to Silver City, we would have to ride out early.

Up again at 4:30, we looked outside to more and more rain. We ate breakfast feeling angst and depressed, not knowing what to expect. For Gen, it wasn't a choice- with the rain on the roads it wouldn't be safe for him to ride. We sadly said our goodbyes, hoping to catch each other again before the final end. Just a few minutes into the day's ride, we should have pulled a U-ey and turned back. The roads were so slick we had to ride with caution and concentration. We realized that if the sun didn't break the clouds, we were in for some serious trouble. 10 miles in, we hit some thick mud, where I crashed, picking myself up, covered in grey muck. We laughed, rode on, only to find that the conditions were worsening, and we stopped laughing. The mud became intensely sticky, building and building on the tires to the point where the tires were too fat to turn through the wheel wells. I tried to push my bike out of the mud, and realized with tears streaming down my face that not only could I not walk my bike, I couldn't pick it up, it was so heavy with mud and rocks. Knowing that Josh would be wondering where I was and considering turning around to find me, I spent the next 30 minutes wiping off the mud, walking 100 feet, wiping, walking, until I finally found him up the rode. The next 10 miles were a nightmare as we attempted to ride, crashed, wiped the mud off and repeated. Just as I had reached the top of the hill where the road was drying, I heard Josh's emergency whistle in the distance. I raced back down the hill, to find him walking his bike up and holding his broken chain and derailleur in his hand. It was turning out to be a no-good, awful, terrible bad day. As we settled in to fix the broken pieces, we were convinced the ride was over. Just as I had my phone out to call a friend in Silver City to come rescue us, the unfixable was fixed. But, we still couldn't ride on. As we had sat there, the mud on our bikes had turned to cement. The next 2 hours were spent chipping away at the hardened mud with our tent spokes until we could see our bikes again. Finally, we were ready to continue on, praying that the mud was over. Our day's destination was 110 miles in, which we needed to make in order to find water. Miraculously, we were nearing our destination before losing the daylight, when of course we hit....more mud. We crashed multiple times before deciding to walk our bikes through the fields of grass. Somehow, we made it to our campsite just as the light disappeared. Never, ever have I been so exhausted- we rode 100 miles, with serious mechanical issues, only "resting" to clean the muck from our gears, not sitting down once to eat. We slept well.

We woke early yet again, knowing that there was not wiggle room to rest. It was 85 miles to Silver City, over tough elevation, and we still had to clean our bikes again before setting off. The day looked like rain, and yet somehow, we rode through the eye of the storm, and we were graciously saved from dealing with anymore mud. Again, we rode all morning and night, not sitting down once to rest or eat, determined to make it to Silver City. With our late start into the day, though, it would have meant riding on narrow windy roads in the dark, and severely exhausted to boot. We decided that the push wasn't worth it, and it turned out to be the best decision of the day. We found ourselves at Lake Roberts General Store, where the store manager, Doug, is intent on taking in cyclists. It seemed like the 5-Star hotel of campsites- salmon burgers, hot tea, gatorade, showers and free camping. What a delight! We finally felt safe and warm, and fell asleep easily by 8pm.

This time, we woke up early not to beat some impending disaster, but to conquer the next 30 miles of hills to Silver City. The ride was absolutely beautiful, and the reward of Silver City phenomenal. Our friend, Patrick, met us on the highway and took us straight to Gila Hike & Bike, where the mechanics treated our bikes like royalty. Next, Patrick drove us straight to his house, where he had made spaghetti and meatballs in anticipation of our arrival. We greedily had seconds, and finished off with not one, but two of Patrick's specialty espressos. Next on his list of treats and spoils was coconut ice cream. And that was just lunch! Dinner was more pasta, veggies and salad, and of course, more ice cream. Showers, laundry, and our new Hike & Bike T-shirts on....it was like heaven compared to the last few days in the wilderness. I spent the evening laughing at Josh, who kept repeating how glad he was that something finally went wrong, because the trip was just too smooth up until New Mexico. I suppose the tears and yelling at the mud somehow made us tougher....

Today was another "rest" day....more wonderful espressos and food to start the day off before ticking off our To-Do List. While driving us around town, Patrick took us to the local Farmer's Market, where we stocked up on fresh produce and pastries. Now we sit and plan for....the end?!

Tomorrow we make our last and final push of the Great Divide Route. For 3 months we've traveled through 6 states/provinces, covered almost 3,000 miles by pedaling just a few miles at a time. The Mexico border never really seemed like a destination, just a picture in our heads that drove us South. It would be impossible to communicate and portray the entirety of what has been our journey in just this blog post. So many challenges, so many people to remember. So many hundreds of hours spent gazing at the scenery while thinking about.....everything. I am sure we've changed, probably in ways we don't know, and yet one that we most certainly do: we've found peace and serenity not just in the great outdoors, but in the methodical push we have to make each day through countless challenges, and that sweet feeling at end of the day when we finally made it. Tomorrow we'll repeat the same routine, but this time we'll end the day looking at our odometers, realizing for the first time that we just rode over 3,000 miles, a feat we will spend many months pondering. And the best news? We still aren't done yet! For the first time in 3 months, we'll turn our bikes North, and ride a few hundred more miles, where we will finally end in Tucson, Arizona. Somehow, tomorrow's ride South seems so much more doable, knowing that the journey isn't quite over yet....



The ensuing pictures are completely out of order. One of the many non-cycling challenges of this adventure is battling technology and time....Some day when I get home I'll put them in order! For now, enjoy the jumble, and I'll attempt to clarify with captions.




Never seen a mushroom quite like this. To all with concern: we didn't add this to the dinner menu.


What do you get when you add 2 bicyclists, 1 unicycler, 3 hours of daylight and a forest full of sticks?


Bathroom air freshener


How the Toaster House got it's name.


A sight for sore thighs

....New Mexico view. Somewhere.


One of many flat sessions. 


In helping Wanda at Abiquiu B&B with moving heavy slabs...black widow!


Stunning New Mexico view


Old abandoned homestead


"Reliable" Water Source...


One of the many Pie Town attractions: the Stool Bus (sorry about the blurry finger)


BEDS! Toaster House


Gen sets out at dawn.


A little creature that puffed up as we rode past it. Shows its desert spirit.


Dear Dave,
It took awhile to find the right one, but I finally got that picture you wanted.
Mission accomplished!


Riding into Pie Town during New Mexico's unseasonal cold front


COFFEE! Morning at the Toaster House, anxiously awaiting Gen.


Desert Scene.


So pretty and peaceful. Little do you know we were having the worst riding day yet. 


Wall Lake, where we had intended on camping. A very beautiful spot on the New Mexico section.


Desert Solitaire.


Another desert scene.


Construction.

On route to Silver City from Lake Roberts.


After Cuba.


These are the remnants of the insides of a long gone volcano. 





R&R before the push to Grants.



Old homestead.


Our warm welcome into the Gila National Forest. Maybe we should have turned around?



The Gila. 

Old ruins.


Knock Knock.
Who's there?
Bat.
Bat who?
Batter get some coffee before dealing with the creature on your doorknob!

Compliments of Cuba Lodge


Outside Cube Take #2


Love the terrain!


Dear Matthew B.,
Look forward to the steak and beer, per our agreement.




Drive chain explosion, compliments of New Mexico Slop.
Luckily had a spare hangar and quick link!





Black Canyon. Millions of beautiful wild flowers.


View from the Toaster House of our route coming into Pie Town.




A beautiful specimen.


Dear Dave,
Your other life.


Not a house pet!


Morning ride out of Cuba.


A tortilla, nutella, almond nut and caramel, and twizzler burrito. MMMM.


Hats off to anyone who can find water around here!


One of many Continental Divide Trail crossings in New Mexico


LOVE the desert scenes.


One of many spoils provided by Patrick and Eileen.


Looking back on what we rode into Pie Town


Old homestead.





Beautiful Black Canyon. If only we weren't so exhausted to thoroughly enjoy it!


How many goatheads does it take to ruin a bike trip?


Another Wall Lake photo.


WE HATE CLAY!!!!!!! In New Mexico. 


Parked at Lake Roberts.


Cactus frame.


Artsy.


Elk retreating to the high ground.


The foreman was a muni rider.


Desert foliage.







The long road to....no more goat heads.


This photo still makes me laugh! Trying to stay awake long enough for my pasta to cook. Truly an image of exhaustion.


Tunes for the weary traveler.