Finish line

On Tuesday, Stella and I entered Stanley Park, where downtown Vancouver meets the Pacific Ocean.

Whooping, hollering, and relieved laughter mixed with the sounds of the waves as we dipped our wheels into the salty water. Immediately after, we set our bikes aside and flung ourselves into the water.

It was a cold day to be in the Pacific waters, but as the official finish line of our cross-country bicycle ride, there wasn't anyone in our 32-strong family who hesitated. 

Our last day was not without its own challenges. Stripped of our digital maps and phones, we were dispersed and unable to communicate with one another. A large group of us quickly found ourselves off the cue sheet. Apparently there was one incorrect turn 5 miles back. We didn't want to turn around, and found out from local construction workers that we could still get to Stanley Park by following the path we were on.

Several others got lost as well, and at the end we descended on Stanley Park like a poorly-coordinated flash mob. I finally understood why we all wear the same jersey - it's not to look cool when we ride, it's so we can spot one another when we get lost!

Vancouver itself was a pleasure to visit as a bicycle advocate - it is clear where Portland looks to for inspiration for its cycle tracks, green bike lanes, and dedicated bike paths. Vancouver reminded me a little of Copenhagen, which I visited last summer... oh geez, my life is turning into one big bicycle ride. Well, what can I say? I'm enjoying the view from my saddle.

In the past four days I've been reflecting on how many people it took to get our group from Portsmouth, NH to Vancouver, BC. To everyone who donated to our cause and allowed me to participate in our summer - I cannot say thank you enough. To our Bike & Build staff and group leaders, who took care of all of the logistics and gave up nearly every ounce of their free time this summer for us - thank you.

All of our hosts, my friends, Outdoor Program family and my (real) family who encouraged me all along the way, often revived my spirits with packages, letters, and visits part-way through - thank you.

To the many individuals who catered to my newly acquired gluten-free diet, who reached out to me when I was sick and taught me all about gluten-free food - thank you.

To the many bicycle mechanics, who literally kept us riding - adjusting our brakes and derailleurs and donating their time - thank you.

And a special thank you to the many folks at B-cycle and Trek, Ninkasi Brewing Company, Greater Eugene Area Riders, and Collin's Cycle Shop who all sponsored me - I don't know what I would have done without your support!

We reached Vancouver, and it took a small village to get us here.

Learning the contours of the country

As you might imagine, Western Montana swept me away in its beauty and endless lakes, rivers, and coffee & ice cream shops. Thus I have not blogged for a while. But I will now.

Ernest Hemmingway once said, "it is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best,since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them. Thus you remember them as they actually are,while in a motor car only a high hill impresses you,and you have no such accurate remembrance of country you have driven through as you gain by riding a bicycle."

I am now just beginning to understand what he meant. Never more have I felt the mountains, the plains, and the hills so acutely than this summer. I will always remember Going to the Sun Road after more than a week of Big Sky Montana (read: flat).

Our crew had many conversations preceding this week, attempting to predict how challenging (or not) the Rockies and Cascades would be. What is the difference between a hill, like the ones we ascended in Wisconsin, and a mountain? After two major climbs in Montana (Logan Pass, 6,600ish ft) and Washington (Flowery Trail Pass, 4,046 ft), we all know the difference is significant. Our knees and backs ache this evening and our smiles are prevelent from the 8 mile decent.

I have been having too much fun, as evident from my lack of posts and photo uploads. More to come!

It never happened.

My last post was from Minnesota, and I am now typing this out on the frontier - the wild west - of Glasgow, Montana.

It's gorgeous here - big sky and open fields of wheat

And that state in between? I've almost forgotten all about it, it's like we were never there.

North Dakota was like a bad dream... if you are a bicyclist. Small or non-existent shoulders forced us into the main roadway of Highway 2. Unlike bicycling on a country road with light traffic, these roads had semis, and lots of them. We road on a stretch that looked like an interstate highway, with on  ramps and exits, underpasses and overpasses. It was not a good place for us.

Rugby, ND - the geographical center of North America

We saw the impact of oil development and I saw for the first time a fracking operation. I'll tell you one thing: they sure are louder than wind turbines I've heard complaints about.

That brings me to the headwind. Ahhhh the headwind! I have not experienced anything more demoralizing than pedaling as hard as you can into the wind, and still going slow. Trying to prolong our stay in this dismal state, it pushed us eastward every afternoon.

The saving grace of this state is its people. Just as friendly as those Minnesotans, even the truck divers chatted us up at gas stations and gave us alternative routes in case we had enough of Route 2.

Our build day in Minot, ND. This house is will be refinished after a flood-damaged addition is removed.

I was impressed by the determination individuals showed to keep their communities alive - many communities were damaged from floods last year, and they are still working hard and seemingly, tirelessly, to rebuild.

So, Mom & Dad, family and friends, after you read this, breathe easily. I never thought for a moment I would get hit by a semi. I never screamed or cried.

For North Dakota never happened. It was just a bad dream.

A home away from home

Duluth, Minnesota has a special place in my heart as the home of my dear friend, Fred. I've been to Duluth twice before, and after nearly a month of traveling - each day a new and unfamiliar place - Duluth felt like a homecoming.

The ride into Duluth was a bit hairy, as the Willard Munger State Trail was washed out in the huge flood that hit earlier this summer. We rode on the trail for over forty miles, but the last twenty were inaccessible, so we took: highway 61 that led us to the local ski hill, and then hiked down (bikes on shoulders) on a washed-out hiking trail to a washed-out road, Spring Creek Road. Then there was some interesting navigation of the city's bike route toward downtown. We eventually made it, and it will stick out in our trip as a day of "choose your own adventure."

But as we rode in, somewhat unsure of ourselves, I began to recognize places I'd been and ridden before. The Lake walk, bridges, restaurants...

Stella and I got into town fairly early and immediately headed to a local brewpub. While leisurely consuming an elk burger, GF beer, and root beer float, we watched our fellow riders pedal by in a downpour that set in.
We were soon after whisked away from Bike & Build world by Fred's lovely parents, Brenda and Dave. Not only did they give us real beds, but hot showers, and a salmon dinner. Ahhh, what more could a weary traveler ask for?!

The following day, we volunteered with Habitat for Humanity in Superior, WI (just a few miles from Duluth). Our task was to level out a huge pile of dirt inside the frame of the house so that the concrete foundation could be poured the following week. With our help, the organization saved over $5,000!

This is about what the pile looked like at the beginning

Nearly finished...

Our work is done!

 

Duluth was one of my favorite stops, and I sincerely hope it is not the last time I visit this beautiful city.

Leaving Duluth at sunrise.

A little bit o' Oregon, in Wisconsin

We woke early (4:15am), excited for the big cities at the end of the day. We have our morning routine down by now: bags in the trailer, breakfast, clean-up, route meeting, ride.

But today was a little different, throwing our routine out the window of that sketchy white van we drive around.

Waiting for the rain, it's too early to be awake... 6am!

There was thunder and lightning outside.

Before Bike & Build, I doubt I would have thought twice about going for a bike ride in a lightning storm. We have rubber tires, right?

But we have a saying on Bike & Build; heard at least a dozen times a day. "Safety is Sexy." Yup.

We waited for about an hour for the storm overhead to pass. I sat on a water cooler in the doorway, watching and counting the lightning strikes and listening for the thunder to dissipate into the distance.

Post-rain, climbing hills in the mist.

Still pouring outside, a group of us headed out. Like when driving a car, the rain (and oils lifted off the road) typically reduces the friction between your tires and the road.

We flew up and down hills, exhilarated by the cool air, the rain in our face and flying up from our wheels.

This was our last day in Wisconsin, and I was a little sad to say goodbye to the state. From Janesville, several days in Madison, Soldier's Grove, and Onalaska, Wisconsin treated us well. It felt like home to me, like my beloved Oregon. With the rolling hills, vast forests, and intertwined with farmland, and a liberal sweet bicycling city (Madison), I could have stayed here happily for a while. At least until the first sign of snow.

Just keeping warm at lunch.

 The remainder of our rainy day ended up being lovely. We stopped for lunch under a covered picnic area, did some aerobic jazzersize-esque moves to stay warm, and then pedaled into the great state of Minnesota, ending the day in a cute neighborhood of the Twin Cities, close to the U of M St. Paul campus.

Minnesota!!!

Biking into the Twin Cities, downtown St. Paul is in the background.

Perfect moments of Madison

It's been almost a week since we left Madison, but it was so amazing I just have to tell you about it!

The ride into Madison was a whopping 43 miles, probably the shortest day we've had since the first week of this adventure. The only thing I remember from the ride is arriving in the city. We knew we were in Madison not because of a city sign, but because we were on a bike path.

Capital City Path, lined with a community garden

Madison is known as a bicycle-friendly city (rated by the League of American Bicyclists as a Gold City, same as Eugene). Taking a look at the businesses located in Madison (or right outside), it's hardly a surprise that this town is filled with many bicycle-enthusiasts who plan, advocate for, and even fund bicycle facilities and amenities in town.

Great bike/ped bridges

First of all, Trek is headquartered in Waterloo, just twenty miles north of Madison, and the only two corporate-owned Trek stores are in Madison proper.

Trek graciously sponsored Stella & I, supplying us with tires, tubes, a couple of chains, and jackets. So we went to the store to get restocked, and say hello to our friends there. The mechanics were wonderful and took care of our every need with the utmost attention. It was like being in  a bicycle tourer's heaven.

Protected bike lane

Trek also is the umbrella company and Madison sponsor of B-cycle, one of two major bike sharing companies in the U.S. Since bike share is coming to the University of Oregon campus, we took a tour of the bicycling facilities with two B-cycle employees, Claire and Mandy, on B-cycles. It was a perfectly cool summer day, and so much fun to nerd out in the cities on colored bike lanes, bike boxes, and protected bike lanes.

I'm lovin' the ride!

In so far as the culture here, Madison is very liberal, home to University of Wisconsin (go Badgers!), filled with community gardens and wonderful places to eat and drink. I was happily surprised every time I went in search of food, I was able to find not only gluten-free options, but entire gluten-free menus and bakeries. Ahhhhh... to be in both gluten-free and bike heaven... 

Yes, I could stay here for a little while... but don't worry, Mom, Dad, my friends at the Janet Smith Cooperative - I'm still heading west toward Oregon (or as everyone says it out here, Ory-gun).


A special THANK YOU to Lee Jones, Tyler Reeder, Chuck McFarland and Claire Hurley for being such amazing hosts and taking care of us and our bikes with so much love and attention. You made my first Madison experience unforgettable!!!

Firsts.

This week has been one of firsts.
We volunteered with the South Bend (Illinois) Habitat for Humanity Chapter. It was by far the best build day we’ve had; they put us all to work and made sure we learned a few things along the way. A group of us worked on putting up rafters and roofing the garage. I ignored the slight anxiety of height and got up to nail the roofing as well. It was so rewarding!
In South Bend, another first for me – riding in a Hummer. After a long day in the heat, I barely thought twice climbing into the air conditioned monstrosity.But I gotta say, I don't understand the appeal still, considering the inside is cramped.
The new experiences continued...

I completed my first century bicycle ride, totaling 107 miles from South Bend.
And finally, I visited Chicago for the first time. I loved bicycling to the city. As one of my fellows riders put it - the cityscape appears after a bend in the river path - and then all the sudden, it envelopes you. It was a challenge to keep my eyes in front of me, when there was so much to see above.
In two days, we'll be in Madison!