Oh, Apartment, to Find Thee Soon and Well...

Not enough sleep over the past two nights and not much coming tonight, either. I am sitting on the couch in my cousin Cameron's apartment in Albany Park in northern Chicago. Got in a few hours ago and have already viewed one apartment just a few miles from here in Lakeview about a mile off the lake, if I decide to go there it will be with two other guys - one grad student and one who just got his master's. Seemed like good guys; I guess we'll see how the other people I'm meeting with turn out. It's too expensive to get a studio/any apartment alone.

Oh well. I'm ready to move. And work might start as early as January 4th. And then I'll get to work with monkeys and build things and learn stuff and be around people my age and even some friends from college and I'M MOVING SOON!!!! Wow this is happening fast. It's very exciting; so exciting I'm not really nervous at all yet. That will probably come later. Maybe.

Well, it's after midnight and I need to get up early to move my car (weird parking zones near schools; have to move it before 7:00am). After spending about 15 hours on the road between today and yesterday, I'm ready to not have to do that a whole lot more. It was completely worth driving out to Pittsburgh yesterday and back today to be at Kaleem's wedding, but so much traveling is quite wearing. Abrasive to the brain, one might say. And with that, good night.

Einstein.

Here I sit in the basement of my grandparents' house in NW Indiana. One week ago I spent the week here and got two deer (both female). Now I'm back for the weekend, finishing unfinished business with the hide of the second deer. As part of killing free time, I browsed my grandpa's collection of books and came across a collection of essays published in 1950 by Albert Einstein - essays that cover everything from religion, morality, education, and a few that discuss science.

I'm not very far in, but already I'm somewhat surprised. As undoubtedly one of the greatest thinkers of recent history if not all time, his priorities and interests and personal angle seem much more obvious and self-assured than I would have expected. He does not present much argument proving his basis of assumptions is right - he completely passes that up saying ideas of that sort are not points in need of proof so much as a fact of existence, much like the laws of nature. He does clearly define what that basis is, but he so arrogantly lays down his presuppositions that the rest of his points are hardly worth arguing against if you do not share his same worldview. That is not to say he does not make good points, but he certainly goes in different directions than I would based on a number of presented facts.

I suppose the assumptions he uses are not the meat of what he is trying to communicate in the essays, but he still presents a relatively unilateral worldview, measuring plenty of depth but rather lacking in width. Maybe I was expecting too much going in, having heard a few quotes from his writings and knowing his reputation as both a physicist and a philosopher.

Hallowe'en Cometh

Mid-week. For some reason I just caught myself feeling like this was a Saturday. That would be less understandable if my daily schedule consisted of more than a rotation between staring at various screens in the house. Saturday is Hallowe'en, though. And it looks like I'll be in Madison, WI for the weekend. That'll be a nice change of pace from the past couple weeks.

From my most recent read - Bill Bryson's "Neither Here Nor There" (reflecting at the end of a couple months of traveling Europe alone):

"...tired of existing in a world of strangers... tired above all of my own dull company. How many times in recent days had I sat trapped on buses or trains listening to my idly prattling mind and wished that I could just get up and walk out on myself?

At the same time, I had a quite irrational urge to keep going. There is something about the momentum of travelling that makes you want to keep moving, to never stop."

So, most of the book is much lighter than that. It's a dangerous book to read; it makes it very easy to catch the travel bug. And worst of all, whether Bryson loved or hated a particular place, the way he describes it makes you want to see it - to go there and experience the same minor horrors associated with traveling that he faced. Mostly it makes me want a job where I get plenty of vacation time (and what I'm doing now doesn't count as a job with excess vacation - it's only vacation time if you earn money on either side of it and know when it'll be over).

Anyhow, quick update on the job search: unless it takes another two months to find a job, the position I'd applied for in Chicago is likely out of the question - funding was delayed until the end of the year. I'm still waiting to hear about the job in Knoxville at the lab, but apart from that I'm ever so slowly finding jobs here and there to apply for in whatever parts of the country seem interesting for whatever reason. But whatever happens, the GRE general test is out of the way, I'll see a couple friends this weekend, deer season opens in a couple weeks, and I have some very tasty no-bake cookies in the kitchen downstairs.

Huh. And for some reason I just realized that the distance formula you learn in geometry or algebra or whatever is just the square root of the Pythagorean theorem.

El Otoño

After a week of fishing around Michigan City, I can say one thing for certain: fall has arrived. It has arrived in all its splendidly colored, crisp-aired, wet glory. In northern Indiana, I was able to watch it arrive by steps through last week, starting the week with most everything being green and the weather only being cool in the mornings and finishing the week with temperatures solidly in the 40's through the entire day, leaves hitting yellows with tinges of orange and red, and clouds filling the sky for days at a time. Thank you, Lake Michigan. Those clouds really are a gift to the area through the entire winter. Well...

As for the fishing, I definitely did not break tradition from my previous two years and brought home one solid fish (coho salmon, 10-12 lbs or so). On the flip side, nothing helps you appreciate climate control and insulation like 4 days standing in 40-degree weather with not-quite-enough clothing for 5 or 6 (or 12) hours straight. Winter boots and coat are coming next time. I think the rain was my favorite part of the week ...well, favorite *half* of the week.

Even camping in one spot for several days straight took me back to the time on the road during the summer. There are some things that quite simply are quintessentially camp-ish... squatting as you do dishes on the ground next to the knee-height campsite faucet, never spending any real period of time indoors, having only 1 pair of shoes that you use during "activities" and 1 pair of sandals for the rest of the time/comfort around the campsite, minimal clothing options, going to bed soon after dark and getting up with or before the sun, caring very little about what time it is or how much time has passed, limited food options, having to walk some real distance just to pee and fill the water bottle, lowered sensitivity to dirt being on you and everything else, seeing a wooden picnic table as an acceptable hygenic surface on which to prepare food, having a sore back and neck, worrying less about locking things up, being more social with random people in the vicinity, carrying multiple pocket knives (need one to carry, and then one for each bag/tackle box you have with you), and no q-tips. Okay, that was a longer list than I expected. But those are just some of the things that really let you know you're camping. And then you know you're camping in the fall when you spend spare time in the evenings not just in your tent but in your sleeping bag, because it's the only item you have the truly has enough insulation for those temperatures.

Looking back...

So, I still occasionally write in the journal I kept this summer. Here's an excerpt from during the MCC ride in the beginning of August that caught my eye as I flipped through the notebook to find a new page to start writing on the other day (this was one of those times where I was "picking at my existential scabs", as Jon Krakauer puts it). But first, a little context: the ride started on the previous Sunday (so this was just the third day), and at this point it was dark, most people were in bed (their tents), and I was lying in my tent, writing this by the light of my headlamp. Don't worry, none of this is pushing on depression or anything like that, just struggling with the frustration of feeling somehow too involved in the stories portrayed by some of the books I read. Here we go [only slightly abridged/edited]:

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8-4-09        9:55pm                          Tues

Should sleep. Feel tired. Started reading "Through Painted Deserts." I'm sure it has some good thoughts, but it doesn't feel helpful reading books like this or "Into the Wild" - they frame life in a way that is much more poetic than I experience it. I do believe that people can go through life thinking those thoughts in the moment, not just retrospectively, but whenever I try to, all I end up feeling is, I don't know, unfulfilled? It makes me want to live a life bigger than life *is* - to experience life as I was not meant to experience it.

It fills me with a sadness that I have scaled the heights of mediocrity, but for some reason can only know what it's like to go further vicariously - appreciating the work accomplished by "kindred spirits." Spirits that were able to Go The Distance.

But it's not really that, is it? It's more of a wistfulness that comes, a contemplative wistfulness that brings with it sorrow over whatever is wrong in whatever small part of the world that is under scrutiny. It heralds an empathic wish to conform to that particular brand of extraordinary, and the let-down with the knowledge that I can never reach the heights of whatever great person because I am not that person - that I do not *wish* to pursue their dream. That means I must define my *own* heights, my *own* goals, my *own* greatness to be attained. I must define my own self as an absolute entity - no longer relative to or distinct from those I know.

Much can be said for choosing heroes and attempting emulation. I want to be someone that those who are dear to me can be proud of. I *need* to be someone that *I* can be proud of.

*That* needs to be my challenge - my goal. To identify, get to know, and live for myself. Not to live for myself in terms of a selfish life, but as in a life that I can be comfortable with as an independent individual with nothing to prove, nobody to impress, and no need to worry if someone likes me enough, over whether I am the friend I can best be and need to be, and over my self-victimized state, bemoaning my short-comings and throwing "Why me?" at God and whoever else will listen.

I don't even know. This is mildly depressing and is far too much to tackle now. I don't know how or when I'll be able to, but this is not the time. I need a few more days on the train. Or solo biking. Or solo hiking. Solo. Alone. *Solo yo*.

10:20. Good night.
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And then the next morning in another entry (I took a rest day on the 4th day of the MCC ride), I had a few quotes written down from "Through Painted Deserts," and one of my favorites (and certainly most relevant to this entry) is from p. 244:

"...life is not a story about me, but is being told to me, and I can be glad of that."

Thank you, Donald Miller.

I started the summer with a 100 page (college ruled, of course) composition book. It's dark blue and has some fuschia and yellow and blue paisley-ish designs on the covers. I filled probably close to 80 of the pages by the time I finished my biking - some reflection like what I have above (not much, though). A lot of it is description, record of events, or just plain stream-of-consciousness rambling. There's even a recipe or two I picked up along the way. Though it's not full now, it probably will be by the end of the year. It will be the first journal I've ever filled. I'm not much of a journaler. I wouldn't have been this summer, either, if I hadn't had so much time to kill in city parks through Kansas and on the train and other random places like that. I probably won't keep it up like this. Already I'm not writing every week, let alone every day. Funny how things like that change so quickly (even though I still have loads of free time during the job search).

Turn the Page

No, I haven't started a new phase of my life since the post-biking phase. I'm still post-biking. "Turn the Page" is simply referring to Bob Seger's song, because I'm on the road again. But this time I'm killing the atmosphere in the process (with my car). Eh. Whatever. I think there are about 2100 miles of solo driving planned between this past Thursday (when I came out here) up through September 22nd, when I should be arriving back in Archbold from Columbus, Ohio.

I have not been quite as proactive as perhaps I ought to in the job search. So far, I have only applied for maybe 6 or 7 jobs, with only a few more lined up in CareerBuilder that I plan to apply for. I spent much more time exploring graduate programs online. The future that currently looks fun is to work 1 - 4 years, and then study to get a Ph.D. (Ph.D. is cheaper than a Master's, and only takes a few years longer). Where? I don't know. In what? Right now I'm thinking Neural Engineering.

You may wonder, what is that? Well, it's studying the brain to figure out how to plug various machines into it - robotic arms and legs for amputees, small circuits that can simply bypass a damaged segment of nerve to keep the electric signals travelling between the brain and the limb that is on the other side of that damaged nerve, and so on. An example of an electronic prosthesis that is already available is the cochlear implant. Basically, a few signal processors are implanted into the cochlea (the part of the inner ear that translate sound vibrations into electrical signals to send to the brain) while a hearing aid is worn behind the ear. Though each implant can only process a narrow frequency range, they can now put enough in that it give very nearly ability to sense the standard frequency range, quite literally giving hearing to the deaf (my grandma got this 5 or 6 years ago; it does work).

I'm not actually as interested in the cochlear implants, but that's what is actually commercially available now. Also in the works are mechanized arms and legs, and even an optical implant (though right now they have only brought that up to being a 4x4 pixel sensor, giving a total of 16 pixels of sight, which would barely help in sensing movement). The optical implant is some distance from implentation I think. But all this is getting there and terribly exciting.

So, Biomedical Engineering, here I come. The deaf will hear, the blind will see, and the lame will walk (and even have fully functioning robotic hands). It's the new Jesus major. (Can I actually say that?). There are many sub-areas of research related to this, some more engineering, some more physiology, some more materials science, but all of it is interdisciplinary and quite fascinating. I guess I will be taking some biology after all. But for now, to continue making supper and enjoy the rest of my visit to Syracuse, etc.

pizza!!

Well, I have a couple days at home alone now with the parents taking Darin to Hesston, seeing as his classes start Monday. I decided to take a break from the job search this morning and googled "real pizza dough recipes" and came across this website:

http://www.varasanos.com/PizzaRecipe.htm

I have not tried it, but he has some very good, very detailed information on how to make a great pizza. I plan to at least try a less time-intensive version, starting this afternoon (after a grocery trip). I have high hopes for improving my pizza-making skills over the next couple days. Though I doubt I will try to trick the oven into letting me bake it at 800 - 900 F (apparently that's what you need for a really good pizza). I'd say one of my favorite parts of this guy's site is the number of myths he debunks (he may be wrong, but he sounds like he knows what he's talking about, so I'm taking his word on them actually being myths; he took about 6 years to develop this recipe).

It has been raining a lot the past few days here in Archbold, which is probably all just as well. It does keep me from going out fishing (even after the rain's done it's not really worth it - fish usually don't bite too well after a good rain or two, or five). It also keeps me from getting motivated to run and/or bike. Yes, I said it: bike. Last week I actually went out again and biked about 25 miles with my dad and brother-in-law after a 2.5 mile run (I figured running first would make it more fair to the other two).

The job search is going slowly. Well, slowly in some ways. I've been able to cross a lot of cities off my list very quickly (it doesn't take long to go through a city when you only come up with 50 job postings and zero, maybe one, are jobs I could apply for). I've heard about a couple distant possibilities both in Chicago and in Knoxville, but neither of those are sure bets at all or happening in the next month. On the bright side, there's nobody to share the fair trade chocolate bars with that were left sitting on the counter in the kitchen... That and this extra bit of unemployment gives me a little more opportunity for a couple/few quick trips visiting friends and family (though this time by car).

A summary... (oh, and a little on New York)

The Finger Lakes region is pretty. It's not too dissimilar to eastern TN/southeastern IN, except it has a few really long, skinny, glacier-carved lakes. The riding was mostly fairly relaxed, or would have been if I hadn't pushed hard to get up hills to keep up with all the 50+ year old people (well really to keep ahead of them when possible, if only slightly, just to make it look like I had learned a little something about biking after doing 1400 miles of it before joining them, who have been cross-country multiple times and have been biking for longer than I've been alive). A couple days, due to hills of the previous days, I was more sore than I'd been all summer. But anyways, the food was great, the weather was pleasant, the company was fun, and the scenery was beautiful. And it was finished after a mere 5 days (one of which I might have taken off to sit and read...).

This summer, starting on the morning of June 2, when I left Archbold, up through August 7th at 5:00am when I arrived back in Archbold from the Finger Lakes ride, I...

...traveled a total of 7,811 miles:
1655 by bike
2090 by car
4035 by train or bus
and ~31 on foot, hiking

...consumed:
8 gallons of gatorade
maybe 25 - 30 candy bars (most of them king size, and usually two at a time)
nearly a full box of maple and brown sugar-flavored Malt-O-Meal
at least 1 - 1 1/2 lbs. of peanut butter
50 - 60 tortillas (almost always for lunch, but only for lunch)
2 large jars of peanuts (that was all before Utah)

...pedaled as many as 800,000 pedal strokes

...cursed at my bike and any convenient hill, pothole, or particularly smug-looking bird/small animal more times than I care to count

...traveled for two months and one week, spending 28 of those days on the bike (for about 125 hours of total riding time), drinking perhaps 40 - 50 gallons of water in those 28 days (in addition to the gatorade), and having only one of those biking days in the rain

...slept in my tent for almost exactly half of the trip, usually waking up (though not necessarily getting up) between 4:30 and 5:30am

...spent no more than 4 nights *not* using my sleeping bag since leaving Hesston (which is also almost as many nights as I've had air conditioning since then, as well)

...went for as many as 4 days without a shower and as many as 8 without wearing underwear (between bike shorts and lined pajama shorts, it's just not necessary...)

...got more tan lines than I could have dreamed of

..."slept" 3 nights on Amtrak and stayed awake 1 night in the car

...spent a lot of really amazing time with a lot of really amazing people - both old friends and the random acquaintences that come with traveling. So, to everyone who was a part of my summer - thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. It has been incredible.

Back East

The West is now a thing of the past. After three days of zero productivity/activity in Archbold, I'm ready for my train ride (which leaves at 3:00am tonight/tomorrow morning), which will carry me out to my last chunk of cycling for the summer - a 5 day, 270 mile ride with MCC in the Finger Lakes region of New York. Beyond spending days on end in a house and not biking, it's strange here because it's green and it rains. Haven't gotten much of that this summer. It has been graciously cool, though, barely touching 80 F during the day.

Well, I leave Archbold in about 6 1/2 hours, I guess I should pack. Isn't really anything else to say. Here's a sunrise.

'Tis strange...

Ok, first, here's a link to the website of the body exhibit we saw in San Diego: http://www.bodyworlds.com/en.html

And now on to the post...


Before leaving San Diego, I'm pretty sure I spent at least 95% of the previous two weeks within 10 or 15 yards of Nate (or certainly within sight, at least). After taking a few days to get used to traveling with someone upon arriving in Moab, it now feels equally strange (if not stranger) to travel alone. Food, where to sit, what schedule to follow - none of this is dependent upon anyone else at this point. When I chat with random people (as I did for quite some time on the train in the past two days), I no longer am able to split the conversation with Nate. I have to make my own breakfast, even. One of the biggest changes is not having someone to share my thoughts with. In Kansas, I got used to storing them and putting them into my journal, but through California I was able to share and compare thoughts and impressions, etc. with Nate right then and there, and get his perspective on whatever was going on. 'Tis strange, indeed.

So now I'm back to having only my own commentary to think about and my own self to converse with, and I'm sure things will feel strange again when I get back to Ohio and actually spend a while at home. I'm not exactly sure what to think of all of this, but I do know I have another 35 - 40 hrs of train ride (Sun and Mon) to spend with my journal, as well as in solo conversation with whomever happens to be conversational on the ride.

bodies, borders, and baseball

Ok, we arrived in San Diego by noon on Saturday, climbing a really steep hill to finish our trip to the apartment of Molly Moyer (someone we went to Goshen with, and apparently my 3rd cousin). That evening she and her two housemates had a housewarming party with a bunch of family and friends coming over - they only moved in about a month ago.

Sunday was much more relaxed - after a late lunch of egg, etc. scramble, we made our way to the San Diego Padres ballpark for a picnic lunch (amazing sandwiches provided by Karen, Molly's housemate's mom). We then watched the game - they played (or at least tried to play) against the Colorado Rockies (Padres lost 6-1). So, after only going to one major league baseball game in my entire life, I have been to two major league games and one minor league game this summer. Nate, Molly, and I finished the day by visiting a seaside park where we went on an old wooden roller coaster.

Today was even more relaxing. Nate and I went to the San Diego zoo, saw some pandas, etc., and then went to a Body Worlds exhibit at the San Diego Museum of Natural History. It was pretty incredible.

They had taken *real* bodies (donated for this purpose), dissected them, and presented them in different positions with different layers pulled off, different muscles pulled away, etc. It was all preserved by basically being plasticized somehow (they infused plastic into the entire cadaver, so you could see all the surfaces of the muscles and bones and organs, but it was perfectly preserved). I was a bit queasy at first, but it was really neat to see all the body laid out like that. There were even a few displays where they somehow preserved all the blood vessels and used chemicals to remove all the other tissue, leaving only the network of blood vessels. It was amazing - they had the blood vessel network (still in its 3-D orientation/positions) of the entire human hand and head, and then also the network for a rooster and a lamb. Another really neat part was a section talking about human development - they had preserved fetuses of almost every major step of development (4 wks, 4 1/2, 5, 6, 7... 20, 22, 25, 28). It's an incredible exhibit. I believe there are a few more locations for this installation. If you're interested in that stuff it's definitely worth looking it up to see if there's something anywhere close to where you are or may be anytime in the near future. It was even better because Nate was giving me a guided tour of every display (having just finished his first year of med school).

So, I believe Wednesday I get on the train and start my way back to the midwest, but for now, viva la California...

next, please!

So it turns out that LA isn't the worst place to have a rest day.

Yesterday was overall pretty good. Nate and I got on the metro and rode down to Universal Studios where we waited on the sidewalk for an hour and a half to get standby tickets for the Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien. We got the tickets (they give out 100, numbered 1 - 100, and we had #'s  38 and 39), and then went up the hill to the more touristy part with lots of overpriced stores and restaurants (mostly franchises). We caught the 11:15 showing of Harry Potter 6 (the tickets were only $6 each!!), were somewhat disappointed, and then by 3:30 we were waiting on the sidewalk again to see if we could get into the Tonight Show. They ended up letting the first 45 or so standby people in, so we got to wait even MORE, but that time on the side of the barrier tape that we wanted to be on. They started taping the show at 5pm, we made a lot of noise (sitting in the back row. in the corner), and left the studio after they finished. Venus Williams is super tall.

After leaving, we got on the metro, got off, saw the road that has all the stars in the sidewalk with names, looked at the Michael Jackson's tile (with it's pile of flowers and memorabilia laid around it), and avoided all the people dressed up in rather bad hallowe'en costumes to look like people whose tiles they would stand by to have people take pictures with them and give them money. We got back on the metro, got off in Chinatown, had a really good, inexpensive supper, and got home by almost 11pm. Bedtime. And now we're going to get ready to load the bikes, get back on the metro, and crank out 75 miles before dusk (between Long Beach and Cardiff by the Sea). Then, San Diego by tomorrow afternoon, and that's that. A quick trip to Tijuana, then the slow boat (train) home.

...moving down the Cali coast

Ok, so there aren't a whole lot of places to grab internet on the California coast (and Nate has internet access on his phone so he wasn't pushing for a stop at a library so I just let it go and waited until now to get at the internet). We are now in Pasadena, on the east side of Los Angeles, at the end of Day 9.

So, let's see: highlights...


...the coastline, near Big Sur (far enough south that it's outside the San Francisco Bay area). At this point we were probably 500 - 600 ft above sea level. There were several hills that forced us to climb up to 1,000 ft. The descents were fun, though. Except one was kind of scary, too - we were coasting at around 30 - 35 mph, sometimes slowing down for the sharp curves, with a 25 - 30 mph tailwind that, at some of the corners as the road was snaking down the hillside, would gust somewhat to one side or the other, making it feel like it was going to blow us off the road or into oncoming traffic (there was frequently no guardrail or shoulder beside the road, just view point turn-offs every mile or two).


...elephant seals, pretty much just chilling on the beach in the evening. We stopped at a beach that had a viewing area towards the end of a 75 mile day that ended in San Simeon State Park, where we spent a while chatting with a German man (Manfred) who is traveling north up the coast on his Vespa for vacation (he lives in LA). The next day, he accompanied us to the next town, where we all had brunch at a little deli/bakery.


...crazy old Bill, the 84-yr-old eco-activist, ex-biology teacher who now calls his house "Bill's Farm Hostel" where you can pay a few bucks and do a couple chores to spend the night (he biked with us for our first couple miles when we left in the morning) - near Nipomo, CA. Roosters still are not my favorite animal, even after SST and that night - he had probably half a dozen of them, and through the morning they would go on a crowing stint for 5 or 10 minutes at a time. The *third* time they did that, it was 5:30am.


...the daily view. What more can I say? (Nate goes in front with the map, I go in back to watch for traffic with my mirror)


...sunrise on the beach (well, it rose behind the beach, since all the beaches here are west-facing) - Carpinteria State Beach Park (Carpinteria, CA). The night we stayed there, there was a middle-aged Swiss couple also staying in the hiker/biker area who we chatted with for several hours through the evening.

We will spend tomorrow hanging around LA - trying to get tickets for the Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien, watching Harry Potter, and just seeing the city. Friday we will hit the road again, hopefully doing about 65 miles Friday, and then about 85 miles Saturday to finish the trip (hopefully with an early start we can do it; it's not quite long enough to break into 3 days). We should have a couple days hanging around San Diego, spend just a little time in Tijuana right over the border, then Nate will fly home and I will catch the train to begin my journey back to the Midwest. No cycling involved.

Picture time! (...again)

Ok, so a bit more on the happenings since leaving Denver:

Hotchkiss is a beautiful area about 55 miles southeast of Grand Junction, CO. Jonathan, Matthew, and Colin live outside of town up on Redlands Mesa (at about 6,000 ft. - a good 1,000 ft. above the surrounding valley floor). That area is semi-arid desert, getting drier as you move west from there. The mesas in the area (there are many) are fairly well-watered, so there are a good number of smaller farming operations, many of them organic (including the vineyard that Jonathan, Matthew, and Colin all live and work at). While they were working, I spent my time hanging out, doing some maintenance on the bike, baking a little, reading, and enjoying the area. Friday night, though, we drove north to Grand Mesa - the world's largest flattop mountain, stretching all the way up to Grand Junction, much of it at 10,000 ft. or above. We hiked in just a couple miles and camped Friday night, enjoying our spaghetti inside the tent is rain came as soon as we finished cooking. Google (Colin's 6 month old puppy - half lab, half blue heeler) came, too, of course. Saturday we then hiked about 8 1/2 more miles total, following a ridge up to an 11,200 ft. peak, where we enjoyed lunch before taking the ridge the rest of the way back to the trailhead. The ridge trail was often no more than 3 or 4 ft. wide, with the sides going down with at least and 80 degree angle on either side about 1,000 ft. to the valley below. It was kind of nerve-wracking at times. It felt good to get down from there.

*The trail along the ridge

I got on my bicycle last Sunday around 10:00AM and rode about 75 miles until I found a decent camp spot along the road in what looks like an old, abandoned RV campground. I was smart enough to forget my tent poles in Denver (though they got shipped to Nate in Salt Lake City, so I have them again), so I got to rig my tent up by tying together a few sticks into a frame at either end, using guy-lines to keep them upright, and clipping my tent onto a central rope with carabiners. It took an hour, but it worked (kept the tent and bugs out of my face). The last town (until reaching Moab!) before that was Fruita, CO -10 miles back- so I loaded up about 3 gallons of water in preparation for Monday's ride (which would take me the final 90 miles to Moab).

*This is what a tent looks like when you don't have any poles for it. Luckily it didn't rain so I didn't need the fly.

Monday, I arranged with Nate to be picked up right around where Utah state highway 128 hits I-70 - about half the of that day's distance to Moab - so I wouldn't have to bike a 90 mile day in 100 - 105 degree heat. I did a 25 mile stint on the interstate (it's allowed there because it's the ONLY road anywhere nearby), got off, and found a dry creek bed that had fairly vertical walls, maybe 8 feet across, and was about 5 feet deep. By then it was 1:00PM and I was tired, hungry, and hot. I got out the tent fly and tied it up to bushes on either side of the creek bed to give me a nice patch of shade I could rest in (tall enough to sit up in, long enough to lay down in).

I hung out until about 4:00, and then climbed a hill so I could get service to call Nate to see if they were getting close. After a late start, they were just getting close to Moab to find a campsite before meeting me. I decided to go ahead and start biking towards Moab to cut off some time. 128 is a beautiful, winding road, following the Colorado River through a deep canyon, and I made it about 15 miles before I got picked up. It was a nice ride. Hot as hell on a bad day, but nice. I had about a cup of water left when I got picked up. I had been getting nervous about that.

After a supper of sandy hot dogs prepared by Mitch and Amber (they had stayed at camp to set up), we did a modest hike to a nearby cliff face, and we ended up kind of losing our way in the dark on the walk back to the campsite - had to find the "road" and work our way from there. No worries, though, we found it easily enough. About the campsite - we were camping (for free) on Bureau of Land Management land about halfway between Arches and Canyonlands National Parks, some distance west of Moab. To get there, you turned off the state highway onto a tiny dirt road, drove 3 miles, and turned onto an even tinier dirt road. Needless to say, nobody else was around. At night, when we weren't talking, the loudest noise was the campfire; it was incredible.

The next day, we packed the bikes (everyone brought theirs!) into the car, loaded up the water bottles and some food, and drove to Arches National Park. We biked the 12 miles or so to the opposite end of the park and spent probably 3 hours (noon - 3) just sitting in the shade at "Sand Dune Arch" where it was only a chilly 85 degrees in the shade on the sand and rock. We did a couple short hikes out to various arches/viewpoints along the way, having started biking by 7:30AM or so to avoid some of the heat. We then biked back to the car, roasting in the sun, but luckily coasting for pretty much the second half of the way back (we had a couple serious climbs in both directions). We finished the day jumping into a several-acre reservoir ("Ken's Lake") a ways south of town. It was cold and amazing and refreshing (though I still smelled bad after three days of biking in intense heat with no shower). 

The next day we drove through Canyonlands National Park (no bikes this time), did several easy-ish hikes off the road to certain viewpoints, and proceeded to spend the hottest part of the day hanging out on the shore of Ken's Lake. Schedule at lake: jump in, swim briefly, get out and wait the 15 mins. it took to dry, apply sunscreen, sit until you were too hot and had to jump in again, repeat (5 - 6x... we were there almost 6 hrs). Didn't even get sunburned. That evening, as the sun was lowering (but not the temperature by much), we drove back into Arches and went and hiked into a couple more viewpoints to get some neat pictures as the sun went down and we were out of the park just after it got dark.

Thursday we ended up packing up and driving up to Salt Lake City (where Mitch and Amber and Nate had met up before coming to Moab), and we have basically just been hanging out and doing a couple short hikes since then. Yesterday was a bit different though.

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, we went to a baseball game last night - the Salt Lake Bees against whatever Tacoma's minor league team is. The game started at 7:00PM. At 10:00, the 10th inning started. It was finally over after the 12th inning at 11:45. We stayed for the 30 min fireworks show afterwards, which was accompanied by a fairly cliché medley of America-praising/mentioning songs (ROCK in the USA, etc.). It started with the William Tell Overture, which was soon followed by the country song "Proud to be an American." Okay. That made sense, sure. What did *not* make sense, though, was the short segment in between those two songs of Lenny Kravitz' cover of "American Woman." Wasn't that a protest song? Hm. Whatever. I guess it says something about something American, so it must be patriotic, right?

Anyhow, now here I am, hanging out at Nate's sister's house. Our train leaves at 11:30 tonight (assuming it's not late... right...), so we should be starting on our bicycles by Tuesday morning along the California coast. It looks like it will be a lot busier than the ride in Kansas (...duh...?), but we still pass through some very small quaint-looking towns. And San Francisco, Los Angeles, and San Diego.

And now, just a few more pictures to incite jealousy:

*The view from our lunch break on Grand Mesa at the peak along the ridge (the lake below is about 1,000 ft. almost straight down)

*Group picture! (at the end of the first evening hike from our campsite)

*A view in Canyonlands Nat'l Park (framed by some arch across the top)

*Sun going down Weds eve in Arches Nat'l Park

*One of three of these little guys we found in our campsite Weds night/Thurs morning. Cute, huh?

Through the desert, soon to the coast

Well, I got to Moab with no incident on Monday evening (after two very hot days of biking - went through more than 2 gallons of water each day), and spent the next few days baking in the desert sun along with Mitch, Amber, and Nate. Thursday, we came to Salt Lake City, where we are now. We've done some short hikes, a little bouldering, and had some time hanging out, but haven't done anything hugely impressive.

Last night we went to see the movie "Public Enemies" with Johnny Depp and Christian Bale. It wasn't very good/enjoyable, I didn't think; fairly disappointing.

We're spending the 4th with Nate's sister and brother-in-law and their two beautiful dogs (huskies). Later this evening - after some grilling, etc. - we will go to a minor league baseball game, and then finish the night out watching fireworks somewhere. It looks like tomorrow we'll just hang out after Mitch and Amber head out in the morning until our train leaves at 11:30pm. Nate and I are supposed to arrive in San Francisco then Monday evening around 6:00-ish, so it looks like we should be able to start our biking on Tuesday, wending our way down the coast to San Diego.

Ummm, yeah. Not a whole lot more to say. I might do some actual reflecting tomorrow, we'll see.

Next, please...

I am now in Hotchkiss, Colorado (but really on an organic vineyard some distance from Hotchkiss). As it turned out, my train yesterday, originally scheduled for 8:00am, was delayed until about noon. So, I called Amtrak at around 7:00am. It turns out they have a really good refund policy (as in FULL refund). So, I got rid of that ticket and picked up a ticket with Greyhound that left at noon and got me into Grand Junction at 5:00pm, allowing me to travel with Matthew, who was returning to Hotchkiss from having gone to a friend's wedding in Nebraska via Denver. 

The bus ride was significantly shorter than the train would've been, went through some beautiful countryside (i.e. The Rockies), and let us sit next to some guy from Indianapolis who could (and did) talk non-stop for hours on end about all sorts of fairly crazy things - from Einstein's theory of relativity (and how that meant that Earth has gravity because it has air) to the best places to set up cardboard boxes to live in/how to ride a freight train without getting caught to how the sink is for peeing in because toilets are just for pooping. It was a long 5 hours.

The next few days (should be here until Sunday morning) should include some hanging out, and probably some local biking to get pictures, and we'll probably end up going hiking somewhere this weekend. It feels good to be in the same place as my bicycle again (Colin brought it back here Saturday after bringing Matthew to Denver); that was a weird feeling of separation - similar to the first few days of being somewhere without my car or computer or anything. It's funny how attached we get to feel towards things that we rely on, and when we stop relying on one thing, it's so easy to transfer that same level of attachment to something else - very substitutionary, shall we say. I dunno. I haven't put too much thought into that line of, um, thinking, but maybe I will more as the summer goes on. Anyhow, off to something else. Even though Jonathan, Matthew, and Colin are all working it feels weird to spend much time online. They have books, and stuff for baking, and my bike could probably use a minor tune-up.

just a couple more pics...

Ok, I think I figured out how to get the formatting a little more to my liking.

Lunch time in Cherry Creek Park in Denver (big bowl of rice and beans).

Oh, the Rockies... (on the way from Pueblo to Denver)

This is selection makes for a bad lunch. Don't do it. Half pound of bologna in one go? Not a good idea. Some stores just don't have much selection.

a few pictures

Ok. It put all my pictures in weirdly (and in backwards order from what I wanted). Oh well. Let's see. Top left: storm rolling in. Top right: CO border. Below pic of CO border: somewhere in KS. Middle left: my nightly home. Middle right: the daily view. Bottom: looking back, just a bit, day 2 I believe.

Well, the formatting is weird, but I'll play around with that before I load any more pics.

the arrival, and beyond... no, wait. before, not beyond.

So, after about 600 miles of biking, I finally reached Denver yesterday (Tuesday) afternoon. I'll try to get down some of the "important" happenings since my last post.

Day 4: ...of Wind and Rain

I made it as far as  Tribune, KS (71 miles), only 16 or so miles east of the CO border. At the park there, I met a couple guys from Indianapolis. One of them used to work for the Adventure Cycling Association (whose route I was following). For this trip, they were planning on going off route and off road and try to cross 100 mountain passes in the Rockies in 6 weeks (they were on mountain bikes).

Anyways, that evening, we moved our tents into a little 4-H auction barn that was open and right by the park when a couple fronts moved in - one from the south, one from the west. The wind was from the east. The fronts hit each other just east of us, and we got some pretty good rain and wind and lightning through the night (sounded like the barn was going to get blown over), but no tornados touched down.

Day 5: ...of Fruit Flies and Cracks

Short day, only 58 miles to Eads, CO. Made pretty good time. The main problems were biking through enormous, dense swarms of fruit flies that seemed to completely cover your front by the time you got out the other side, and then the road. At least the second half of the trip, there was a nice little crack in the road every 5 or 10 yards. Bumping around like that does NOT help matters of comfort. Camped in the park in Eads, *again* saw two fronts converge just a little ways north of me (neither traveling in the direction of the wind, again). Rain didn't end up hitting until 4:00am, and not a whole lot came. That evening I missed the library AND the grocery store closing times by 15 mins. Supper: like most lunches (peanuts, tortillas with peanut butter).

Day 6: ...of Paying. and More Cracks.

Got to Ordway, CO. I actually had to pay to stay at a campground tonight. Turns out I payed $15 to bruise my hands pushing the tent stakes into the hard-packed ground in an RV campground. With no showers. And guess what. Yup, got to watch a couple more fronts collide (neither moving in the direction of the wind). Some rain, but not a bad storm. Met a couple guys from Ft. Wayne who are riding coast-to-coast to raise money for a jail/rehabilitation program - going for an average of 100 mi/day (they have someone carrying their stuff and following them in an RV - www.grace2009.org ).

The first and last 5 miles of the day I had a great tailwind, but the rest of the 61 miles, I was fighting crosswinds or headwinds. It was probably the toughest day mentally thus far.

Day 7: ...of Pueblo

It was a somewhat long-seeming 53 miles to Pueblo, with a crosswind much of the time. I got into town early afternoon and hung out in the city park for a couple hours until I got a hold of Dave Foncannon - pastor of the Pueblo Mennonite Church (camped in his yard that night). It was great to get a shower for the first time since Dighton (Wednesday, this being Sunday) and to be able to just sit and relax on an actual couch. This day was an excellent morale booster for the next day.

Day 8: ...of Hills and Wind. and Poor Planning.

I didn't get out of Pueblo until 9:45 or so (didn't want to deal with rush hour traffic in the AM). After going about 5 miles, I passed a sign: "Pavement Ends." Not a welcome sight. Spent the next 15 or so miles on packed dirt/not-packed-enough gravel. Then I had some fairly pleasant riding - tailwind, not too serious of climbing, sunny, all the time with the Rockies in sight to the west. Well, after about 30 miles of riding, I was getting into Colorado Springs. At rush hour. 

Turns out that, between Pueblo and Denver, there's a divide (the Palmer Divide) that runs east/west and is about 7500 feet high. Also turns out that most of the climbing starts around Colorado Springs. Also turns out that sometimes in early afternoon, the wind can swing around from the south-east and start coming out of the north. At 15-20 mph. Put it all together and what do you get? 70 miles in about 9 1/2 hours of pedaling. Physically, this was by far the hardest day. I'm pretty sure I hit some 15 - 20% grades (those are the ones you only make about 5 mph going up and have to take a break in the middle). I ended up biking down a gravel road at 9:00 at night with my headlight and taillight on, and when it got fully dark I still hadn't passed anywhere I could camp, so I pulled into a guy's drive and asked if I could camp in his yard. It was a little horse ranch (everyone has horses up there) at around 7100 ft. His response was along the lines of, "Um, yeah, sure. How did you get *here*?" I mumbled something about google maps, he remained confused, and I went to bed. He pointed me down the road that, in about 5 miles, would hit CO-83, which goes straight into Denver. And is all paved. He looked a LOT like Dustin Hoffman.

I went that late because I hadn't expected to make such poor time - I was halfway intent on doing the 115 miles to Denver in one day. Nope.

Day 9: ...of Getting There

From where I thought I was, I figured I had another 10 or 15 miles of climbing to the Palmer Divide before I could coast most of the rest of the way into Denver. Turns out that the road I camped on, that hit highway 83, was Palmer Divide Road. After averaging less than 8 mph Monday, I averaged more like 18 mph through the day. I still had a few climbs to do (some of them fairly long and steep), but I'm pretty sure I coasted at least half of the 50-some miles I covered before I got into Denver-proper (most of the way with a 15-20 mph tailwind). At one point I hit 44 mph according to my speedometer. Coasting. But it was certainly the most beautiful scenery I've passed through thus far - rolling hills of the high plains (Mom and Dad: I found a house for you. I didn't actually see it, but it's for sale - 3500 sq. ft. on ~3.5 acres, up around 6500 ft. altitude, I believe). It was green, and rolling, with creeks and wildflowers and rocky outcroppings poking through sporadically. It probably helped that the weather was nice.

I got into Denver, biked through about 15 miles of sprawl and stopped at Cherry Creek State Park to hang out and relax until Denver people got home from work so I could go to their house. I was there several hours, had a nice big pot of rice and beans, swam in the (cold-ish) lake, dried out sitting in the shade, and generally relaxed. And when the time came, I got to bike another 10 or so miles to get from there to James' (et al.) house. So, I'm now at their house, clean, with clean laundry and fresh bread.

Anyways, yeah. Sorry for the long post. Now it's time to relax. I'll try to get some pics up later this week.

well, yeah...

Ok, so I finally got around to stopping in at a library for some internet (though many towns don't have this option). It's day 4, and I'm taking a lunch break in Leoti, Kansas - about 40 miles from the Colorado border. Here's a bit of a break down of my trip so far:

Day 1: 65 miles - Hesston to Peace Creek Hostel, not too far from Hudson on the edge of the Quivira National Wildlife Refuge, 5 miles south of the route. Camped in the yard of the "hostel" that night (it was really just a couple's home who let bikers stay there if they come through).

Day 2: 78 miles - Hostel to Rush Center, population 176 according to my map. Had a big, juicy, tasty burger for dinner at Effie's for $3 (plus a 75 cent can of Coke). The last 20 miles of the day were due north into a stiff headwind, with the 2nd half of the day being in long, rolling hills. Somewhere before lunch one of my sandals fell off my bike. I backtracked through town but couldn't find it so I turned around and continued on my way (didn't want to backtrack the 42 miles I'd already biked).

Day 3: 65 miles - Rush Center to Dighton. Camped in the city park with 5 other bikers - 3 of whom were going east, and 2 are also headed west (but they go faster and farther than me). All five of them are doing complete cross-country treks; one has already been on the road for a month and a half. The guys going east offered to mail my chaco back to Ohio if they come across it, so I gave them my address and I'm really hoping they find it. I've only barely broken in those shoes (does anybody know if it's possible to buy just a single, left sandal from Chacos? I'm guessing probably not). Had a good tailwind most of the day, so I made it in about 4 1/4 hrs of biking.

Day 4: so far, ~48 miles, and about 24 to go (which will land me in Tribune - 16 or so miles from the CO border, where I will camp in the city park again).

Tomorrow I plan on doing only 58 miles, which will feel quite nice, I'm sure, shooting to end up in Eads, CO. Saturday I will hopefully get as far as Ordway, CO, letting me arrive in Pueblo on Sunday. I may or may not take an extra day in Pueblo just to relax before heading off for Denver, which will be ~120 miles. If I feel *really* good and ambitious, I may shoot to do the whole trip to Denver in one day, but I'm not counting on it; it sounds like I'll have a decent stretch in that section on some gravel roads, so, blech.

So what do I do during my hours in the saddle? Mostly I try not to think about how uncomfortable bike seats are; funny how poorly that works. It seems like it's not quite as bad today as it had been, but it's still far from feeling great. Usually in the afternoons I listen to some music - it helps me get through the "I'm tired but still have 20 or 30 miles to go" times. Tuesday, as I pulled into my destination, "Carry on my Wayward Son" started playing and made me realize that I don't have nearly enough music by the group Kansas for this trip. No matter; I'll hit the Colorado border tomorrow morning. I've taken a few pictures, but really not all that many. There isn't a whole lot to take pictures of in this part of the trip. "Oh look, a wheat field." "Oh look, more wheat." "Hey, an oil derrick." "Look at me with my bicycle." "Look, I'm still with my bicycle." "Yup, the bike's still the same." I think I figured I probably pedal somewhere around 30,000 rotations each day. Yeah, isn't that awesome?

about to begin

The bicycle is ready, the panniers are packed, and I am at my starting point: Hesston, Kansas. The past few days have been quite nice and lazy - mostly sitting around the motel hanging out with the Horst family (who gave me a ride out here). Andy and Emily's wedding is Sunday, so Monday is when I start my solo trek. It will be about 530 miles out to Denver, and if my planning is at all accurate, I should get there around the 18th.

In case you're wondering why I'm doing this, there are a few reasons. A couple big ones: to visit friends and spend time doing activities with friends that we all (all two of us, for the California part of the trip) enjoy, and also to later be able say, "I did that. I accomplished that." Biking as an activity is all right; I'm pretty lukewarm about it (at least for the first couple hours on the bike - after that it's somewhat miserable). I do enjoy riding my bike, but a lot of it is liking the idea of getting around under my own power, covering some hefty distances.

I am excited, though, and also incredibly intimidated by the distances ahead of me, now that being here in Hesston is finally forcing me to face what is to come. So far I've worked hard to take it a day at a time, and I feel that's the only way I'll be able to push through this trip without getting overwhelmed.

On a lighter note, though, the weather is beautiful and my stomach is pleasantly full of almost really good chicken noodle soup from the Breadbasket in Newton.