Heads Carolina, Tails California

One of my new favorite songs, because it speaks my mind exactly nowadays. Oh, how I miss the days of Biking and Building!

("Heads Carolina, Tails California" is a country song by Jo Dee Messina)

I never finished writing about our very last day of riding, from Alpine Heights into San Diego. So here goes, the final chapter:

To preface this day, I should say that Ryan, Liz, and I were dreading dreading DREADing this day. After our 137 mile ride, we actually stayed up late just chatting and lying under the stars. Admittedly, I fell asleep, but I was definitely trying as hard as I could to stall the start of our last day. After having had one of the best nights of sleep ever, I awoke the next morning amidst the pile of bags that was still outside on the tarp--I think I was too lazy the night before to bother finding a space in a tent, but it was actually quite comfy outside with the bags!

That morning we got a slow start. Our routine was already much deviated from every other day this summer because we didn't have our familiar van & trailer, and because of the accident, there was a lack of food--that really makes for a lot of hungry hungry bikers milling around looking for something to eat. After eating, we had to tie up some loose ends. In particular, we had to make some decisions about the affordable housing grants. The NC2SD trip had $20,000 to give out to affordable housing groups across the country. We had 5 competing grants from places spanning from Durango to Arizona to the Fuller Center (where Ryan is working next year) to NC State to South of Boston. All had wonderful ideas and projects, so there were some hard decisions to be made. It was pretty empowering being part of a grant-making process, especially knowing that we raised the money and we could put the money where we thought it'd be best.

Next on the agenda was a reflection activity, one that I had stolen from a med school retreat. We stood in a circle and had a ball of string (complements of CVH), which was passed to the person across from you. As each person threw them the ball, they said something about the person they passed it to--a compliment, a good memory, something they appreciated. Finally, when everyone had gotten the string, we had formed a huge web. We cut the string so each person had a piece of it to take home with them, symbolizing that we're always connected to one another, even if we're scattered all over the country. My little piece is going to be tied to my bike. =)


...And then we set off--off to San Diego, off to the ocean, and off to the final mile of our trip! Oh, what mixed feelings I had! I constantly cycled between never wanting to get there and being pumped to finally be at the Pacific. Well, I did get my first wish (almost), because our short 40-some mile ride turned into a 3-4 hour ride. We had about 5 flats in just our group, and my, there were some big 'hills' between us and San Diego! Talk about building up the anticipation, we thought we'd see the ocean at the top of some of the big hills, but we didn't see it until we were 1 mile away. Anyway, it was a good last ride, and wonderful because I got to ride with many of my favorite riding buddies (Ryan, Liz, Meredith, Andrew, Jochem, and Clark!).

At 1 mile away, the entire crew met up, for one last ride together, into La Jolla Beach, where our families and friends were waiting to greet us. Oh, it was a glorious (and steep) downhill to the ocean! .... And the rest is history, for which I will let pictures tell the tale.

Thanks for the final chalking to greet us!


SOOO excited to be there! I was screaming the whole way down!


Dipping our front wheels in the Pacific!


Sirisha came down to see me finish! =)


Playing in the ocean, at long last:


One last chorus of "Country Road":


Photoshoot in the ocean:


My tan line:


Brendan with his inspirational oration to close our trip:


Fin.

One last epic day

"I firmly believe that any man's/woman's finest hour, the greatest fulfillment of all that he/she holds dear, is the moment when he/she has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle--victorious." -Vince Lombardi (with corrections from Risa Griffin)

This was the inspirational quote on our queue sheet on our last epic day before San Diego. It was July 26, biking 108 (or 137) miles from Brawley to Alpine Heights, CA. I know, our trip is over. But before I write about our last moments, this bike ride really needs to be put down in the history books for all to hear.

Setting the stage: 108 miles of riding. Through the desert and California's coastal mountains in 100+ degree weather. (Only on the NC2SD trip would we have one of THE toughest day of the trip on our second to last day.) Wake up time- 3:30am. Departure time- 5:00am sharp. We even had to sign up with a group of people to ride with because no one was allowed to ride alone and the van would be able to track us easier. My riding group- Liz and Ryan.

A strange chain of events followed. We had set out in the middle of the pack at 5am and actually pulled in front by mile 20. We were feeling great and wanted to get to the mountains as soon as possible, before the hot heat set in. At mile 20, we passed a border patrol station, and the guy there said something to us, which we couldn't figure out. So Ryan, Liz, and I all looked at one another, trying to figure it out--and we missed a sign that told us to turn left to stay on SR 78. Instead we stayed straight and on to mile 40 for our rest stop on the wrong road. Unfortunately, the van & trailer made the same mistake, and since we saw them and they saw us, we both thought we were on the right track. But when we got to mile 43 or so, we saw a bunch of emergency vehicles in the center of the road and wondered what was going on. (Mid-story note: Don't worry, everyone was just fine, no injuries that day.) I didn't realize what it was until I saw the chalking in the shoulder for our rest stop at the same place as the accident, and I looked left and saw the trailer, unhitched and missing a wheel and in a sad state. I saw all of our plates, utensils, blue water and food coolers, food, and bags all over the road. Oh, it was a crazy sight, and we could hardly believe what we saw. The van and trailer had been crossing lanes of traffic, as a car speeded around a bend in the road and didn't stop in time to avoid colliding with the trailer. It was crazy to see the van and trailer in such a sad state because they had been sights of comfort for us all summer when we were out the road. So in about 3 minutes, we had the doubly bad news of finding out that 1) the trailer had been hit and wouldn't be able to support us that day and 2) that we had biked 20 miles in the wrong direction.

Ryan, Liz, and I stayed for an hour with Dave & Molly P. (who were driving the van that day) to help clean up and boost morale the best we could. We then had the choice of biking back the way we came or waiting 2-3 hours to be transported via car to the right road, after a U-haul was rented and the trailer was towed. And being the hardcore bikers that we are, of course we chose to ride the extra 40 miles to make up our detour. Yes, that means our ride was going to be 148 miles if we finished it. We headed back on the road with exclamations of how crazy the accident was and how crazy it'd be if we finished the ride. We made good time back to the border patrol station and turned back on the right road (at mile 60 of the day). We stopped at about mile 75 at a restaurant among the dirt dunes of the desert to have a lunch and fill up water. I had my 3-liter camelbak and 2 water bottles.. But questioned if it'd be enough to get me 40 miles uphill through desert to the next town of Julian. But onwards we went, because when you're riding unsupported, there's really no choice of where to go but forward.

Liz and I were struggling quite a bit on the uphill through the desert. Ryan tried his best to appease us, giving us lectures on topics of our choosing (you should hear his lectures "On Feet" and "On the Beginning of Civilization", ok they weren't academically worthy, but they were entertaining at the time when we needed it the most.) The sun just sucks the energy out of you, and boy was it hot. My computer had readings up to 120 degrees, though I think it may have actually been just 110 (hah!). I had a minor fall after my wheel overlapped with Ryan's for a second, where I fell at slow speeds onto a bed of hot gravel. The worst part being the burning gravel and not being able to get up immediately because my bike was on top of me. We took a breather for a second and then, of course, back on my bike I went, because riding on was better than sitting in the hot sun. We traveled slowly, had to conserve water, sought shelter very occassionally in the shade of a rock or two, and screamed hallelujah when we saw clouds slowly approaching us. And were ecstatic when we saw dark rain clouds looming in the distance. Liz was especially excited and promised a rain dance when it started raining. As we climbed a very steep hill, the raindrops started, and we breaked at the top of the big hill to enjoy the rain and get a little shelter from the downpour. Oh, how wonderful it felt! Just look at the happiness in Liz's step..

Ryan and I even got a little chilled, because the temperature dropped to 72 degrees. Yes, that's 40 degrees lower than what it was when we were riding earlier. We huddled against the rock for warmth. (Rocks are wonderful things, as they provide cool shade from the heat and warmth during the rain!) And after the rained cooled things down, the ride got a lot better. We met up with the U-haul finally, which had water and gatorade to refill our rations, and we picked up more Nature Valley granola bars (which were the mainstay of my diet that day--I think I had at least 7). That was at about 6pm, and at mile 90. After that, we commenced on a 10-mile climb to the town of Julian, which was really not that bad after all that we had already gone through that day. The cooler weather helped a lot.

At Julian, it was 7pm, and we had finished a century (100 miles) of riding, but we still had 40 more to go before getting to our campsite. Daylight was starting to thin, so we moved along quickly, facilitated by many downhills (the fruits of all our climbing that day), and the beauty of seeing the landscape in dusk. It was probably one of my favorite stretches of riding this whole summer. The forested hills and the sun setting over the mountains were just beautiful. At mile 130, when the sunlight had almost completely gone, we hit the final stretch--what else would it be but a gravel road? So while everyone else had flown down the gravel road and enjoyed the downhill thrills of it, we were on it in the dark. Soon after we started on it, the U-haul pulled up. It had come back to check on the last groups. Tony let us ride on for a bit, as he drove up a bit further back to see if anyone else was out on the road. So we rode on for about 4 miles, in the moonlight and what was left of daylight. But mainly we just had to feel out the gravel road, calling out bumps and soft spots. It was not as scary as I thought it'd be, but crazy nonetheless.

Finally, Tony came back and we stopped riding because it was too dark. We had about 5 miles left, and it was all downhill. It was hard to put our bikes away in the U-haul and concede "defeat" to not finishing our epic ride, but we had made it so far already, and we were in no way defeated. So Ryan and Liz rode in the van for the first time all summer, and I rode for the 2nd (I had 10 miles in the van in the Rockies). 137 miles, baby!!

And so we pulled into the campsite at 9:30pm, and crawled out of the U-haul to find a cheering crowd of B&Ber's waiting for us with beer and pizza. Oh, it is one of the BEST feelings in the world to finish a ride like that and find so many welcoming arms to greet you. I felt on top of the world then, exhausted but knowing that something amazing just happened. I will always remember the hugs I got that night from people who were relieved to find that we made it through okay and from people who were in awe of us for finishing 137 miles of riding through the crazy terrain that day. ...And there I lay at the end of it all, on the field of battle--victorious--with two of my favorite riding buddies. Thank you, Liz & Ryan, for one of the most awesome days of riding I've ever had and probably will ever have.

Some pictures from Arizona

Playing Superheroes--whenever we're going 3 or more across and going 20 mph, Liz insists that we're superheroes:


Check out that Arizona sun...


Liz, on the road:


Route 66 in Williams, after we had some really amazing pie, and on our way to a hotel room that we got for the night for everyone to shower in:


AZDOT Adopt-A-Highway -Available sign, loosely interpreted:


The Grand Canyon sunset that we watched:


My bike and the long (or now, short) road ahead:


Whoa, what's this??


Building in Prescott was mostly moving rocks of all sizes. We leveled a cliff so it wouldn't erode and we also moved piles of gravel around so we could put weed covering underneath it. Some people also painted trim.

Moving the massive gravel piles


Ryan painting:


Meredith, resting on the surprisingly comfortable rock bed after a hard few hours of work:

So what exactly do we do each day?

I thought I'd try to shed light on that question and tell everyone exactly what our schedules look like each day... A photojournal of sorts. :o)

5am: Wake up! (Sometimes it's 4am instead, if there's a long day or a hot day. Sorry, no pictures to show our morning grogginess)
5-5:45am: Wash up, get changed into bike clothes (important: put on your chamois butter), and get your bags out ASAP
5:45-6:30: Eat breakfast. Do morning chores, i.e., packing the trailer with bags, filling up water/gatorade and food coolers, cleaning up the host site, putting out breakfast.


6:30: Route meeting! Get queue sheets to find out the turns for the day's ride, and decide on when the water/lunch stops will be.

6:30-7am: Stretch, pump up tires, get ready to go
7am: Hit the road!


~9am: Water break! Snack time.
~12pm: 2nd water break/lunch

All throughout the ride: Fix flats, find good picture spots and spots for contemplation, enjoy the ride with groups or alone--whatever suits your fancy that day



~2-5pm: Arrive at host site, crash on the floor for a bit, then sit around and eat + drink water like crazy. Stretch. PUSUC (Push-up sit-up club... we were better about doing it at the beginning).


Until dinner: Laundry chore group finds a local laundromat and takes it over to do laundry for 30 people. Shopping chore group goes shopping with the van, usually to Wal-mart, or the local grocery store. Dinner chore group concocts something delicious for us to eat. (Though on our favorite days, our hosts are around to chat with and graciously provide us with nourishment for the day.)

6pm: Dinner!
7-9:30pm: Search for wireless internet so we can email our friends and families and update our blogs. Read, chat, hang out, watch thunderstorms, go for a walk, get ice cream... etc.

9:30pm: Lights out! (or for the late night folks, like myself, time to get cracking on writing in my journal and doing my daily measurements of my muscles)

Every Thursday: Mail day! One of our favorite times of the week. And probably the only thing that happens every week without fail.



Every Friday: Town Hall Meeting. Discuss any issues that have come up with the group


Every Tuesday: Affordable housing curriculum. 3-4 people present on topics each time related to the history of affordable housing, different kinds of nonprofit or governmental housing organizations, etc.

Our white board:


Our trusty trailer & van:


The awesome presentation that we do for host sites every now and then, called Bodies in Motion
(Stay on the lookout for a similar video featuring the cast of our NC2SD trip =)

In other awesome news, we reached the California state line today!! I was tearful this morning as we left, because I just couldn't believe it, and it's still sinking in that we made it this far. Wish us luck in our last few days, because they'll be long, HOT ones through the Sonora Desert. Our dive into the San Diego ocean will be well-earned by then... Stay tuned!

Thoughts on Affordable Housing

A quick summary of the days in the last week. We've:
-Hit the 4 corners (and crossed into Arizona)
-Enjoyed the hospitality on the Navajo Indian Reservation at Teec Nos Pos, Kayenta, and Tuba City, AZ
-Broken my misconceptions about Arizona. I discovered that Arizona is far from being a HOT, flat desert. In fact, it's actually quite hilly, not that hot (like below 100 and often below 90 over the terain we've been riding), and it rains pretty frequently here with brilliant thunderstorms during the summer (the monsoon season). There are also things like pine trees around, and actually, I've yet to see a saguaro cactus.
-Watched the sunset in the Grand Canyon
-Passed a sign for Los Angeles (458 miles away)--a sign that we're so close to California now!
-Finished a build day in Prescott, AZ, which consisted of moving rocks of various forms (gravel + leveling a cliff near the house), and learned a little bit about affordable housing in the area and the Habitat group there.

Our shorter days in Arizona have given me more time to reflect. One of the things that came up was housing that is both affordable AND adequate. As nomadic Bike and Builders this summer, we have no home and depend heavily on the communities we pass through to provide us a home for the night. A few times during the summer, we've come across difficulties with finding a proper place to shower or use a toilet that isn't leaky, and it has been a firsthand lesson in the adequacy of housing accomodations. I've been able to brush off the roughness of shower or going to the bathroom behind a tree or in the McDonald's downtown by treating them as bonding experiences (which they definitely are!) But when it comes down to it, I realized that there are many places around the country, be it churches, community centers, or people's homes, that have inadequate plumbing, and that's just not the way things should be. People should have a flushing toilet and proper shower available to them. For us, we can shake it off easily, because it's only one night of our life when we won't be in the perfect accomodations, but for many people it's life everyday.

While I was waiting to shower in the pastor's home in Tuba City (don't worry that was a wonderful, well-working shower =), I realized that one of the things I love about this summer is being so welcomed into other people's homes. I think it is a very special experience to have doors opened so willingly to you, one that rarely ever happens except under the right circumstances. When else would someone let 30 young adults shower in their personal shower? Or cook a warm dinner and share conversation with you for a few hours? I think it is wonderful, and I have loved learning about each of the communities, which are often worlds away from the communities I've been a part of. Anyways, more thoughts later and pictures too. The library is closing in 1 minute!

Sweat and Tears...and Success.

We biked TO the Rockies, we biked UP the Rockies, we biked THROUGH the Rockies, and now, we will bike DOWN the Rockies.

It's been such a monumental time for all of us, and I'm not really sure where to start because I don't think I'll be able to process the feat we've accomplished until long after we're done with this biking journey. It's a wonderfully powerful and scary feeling seeing the mountains before you, knowing you have to bike through them to get to the other side. And seeing mountains behind you, knowing that you have in some way conquered them--or at least survived them.

The Rockies caught all of us by surprise. I've always thought of them as the picturesque snow-capped, rugged gray mountains that you see on postcards. And much of the terrain is like that. But in between the mountain passes, we encountered flat, WINDY plains; beautiful canyons and lakes; and winding rivers running through lush grassy plateaus.

Each day this past week has been a journey of sweat and tears through the mountains. We never knew exactly what to expect, but at the beginning of each day, we knew it'd be long and we tried our best to prepare for it despite any soreness or injuries or exhaustion that we felt from the days before. Over this last stretch, we've had almost all 85+ mile days, nonetheless over some of the hardest terrain of the trip. But the saving grace was the beauty that was constantly in front of us and the team that pulled us through. Colorado has won me over, and I think I would return to bike the Rockies, if I ever find myself in such good shape again!

Every day was a challenge...

July 9 Colorado Springs to Buena Vista, CO (92 miles)
A lonesome, but character-building day, which was spent biking by myself. The first 25 miles and first mountain pass was fun, but the next 50 miles of mountain passes and flat windy terrain was trying. I've never biked for so long by myself, and it was really hard to pull myself through the roads rather than depending on other people to help. I gained a lot of respect for the willpower of riders that ride alone. When I was riding on the windy flats at 7 mph, I stopped often because I was tired and sometimes to just enjoy the quiet of the mountains. When I was biking, all I could hear was the wind rushing past my ears. But when I stopped (and waited for the cars to pass), amidst the mountains I found an amazing serenity.

When I finally got up the last mountain pass of the day and started descending into the valley where Buena Vista lies, I found Emily Hodge. And I was SO delighted to see a familiar face that I made her get off her bike and give me a hug. =) So I had a riding buddy for the last 5 miles of the day. I think I'll always remember those last miles, with sun rays peeking out from the clouds and shining onto our final destination for the day.







July 10 Buena Vista to Gunnison, CO (87 miles)
This ride started out with a fun spiritual conversation with Meredith, Ryan, and Liz. It helped the time pass really quickly, I barely noticed the uphills we were doing! After our first rest stop, we started our 12 mile climb to Monarch Pass, our highest elevation of the entire trip--11,312 feet!! Woohoo! The climb was challenging, but the summer has trained us well, and we made it up in good time. Here's us climbing:

Meredith:


Liz and I (thank you Ryan for the picture taking):


Me:


Monarch Pass Summit!



At the Summit, we did some photoshoots, met a couple of guys biking from SF to NYC on touring bikes (which were about 100 lbs heavier than our bikes!), and got a little altitude sickness before heading back down into the valley. We hit the windy flats once again, but this day was much more bearable for me because I had a team of people riding with me to pull me through! Thanks guys =)

On the Appalachians vs. The Rockies... I'd have to say that the Rockies are probably steeper mountains but the roads are definitely a lower grade. Our very first climb of the Appalachians (on Hwy 181) going into Linville Falls was 13 miles long and a pretty steep grade and it came as a huge surprise to us 1.5 weeks into the trip. We've been training for the Rockies all summer, so I guess it's good that the uphills were manageable. I wonder how we would have done on Hwy 181 if we could go back and try it again...?

July 11 Gunnison to Ouray, CO (102 miles)
I was sweeping with CVH this day. ("Sweep" = two people who bring up the tail-end of the team to make sure everyone is ok. We all take turns being sweep throughout the summer.) It was an eventful, challenging day for everyone ...

The morning started out with new sights like canyons and desert-like vegetation and lakes.

CVH:

Melanie:

As we descended into Montrose, much of the team had stopped to avoid an oncoming storm. They actually waited 2.5 hours in a gas station for it to pass. The lead 3 riders actually rode through the storm and braved the rain (and hail!). We waited out the storm at a bakery in Montrose, but after an hour of waiting, CVH, Melanie, and I decided to keep on riding. No rain or lightning came, but the winds were strong enough to make us want rain or anything else instead. We moved along at a 6 mph pace (which might actually be a generous estimation). I thought we were really slow, but later found out that everyone else had a very hard time in the wind too. We rode on for 3 hours, after which we were just exhausted and resigned ourselves to waiting for the van to pick us up and take us the rest of the 20 miles to Ouray--by then it was 6:30pm and we had biked 80 miles. (Sorry there are no pictures to document this part of the journey because I was just too pooped to think about photo-taking!)

However, the story continues, when we had gone 10 miles in the van, I saw Andy and Yvonne pull out of a gas station where they had taken a rest. They were the last of the crew out on the road besides us (Andy had gotten 4 flats that day), and I got a push of motivation to ride on. So I pulled my bike out of the van and rode the last 10 miles into Ouray. And a beautiful beautiful last 10 miles it was. It is supposed to be the little Switzerland of the US, and the mountains really made me feel that way. The winds had died down, and the terrain was relatively flat by that time, so I really lucked out. But there was no better feeling than finally pulling into our church site for the night and coming into the dinner room where warm cheers greeted us, the last arrivals of the night. :o)


July 12 Ouray to Durango, CO (67 miles)
We were prepped for this trip by Molly P's dad, who joined us for the ride. We all had the jitters about it because it was 3 mountain passes, all reaching an elevation of at least 10,000 feet. The first one was about 13 miles up, including 8 with a cliff and no guardrail. (But to moms, dads, and concerned friends: don't worry! It's ok because we took the lane and the cars are used to bikers.) We pulled ourselves up this mountain like true champs, despite the cold, misty mountain weather (is it really the middle of July??)
Ryan:


The very windy road we went up:


At the summit!


At the top, we hopped into Molly P's car for a quick heater warm-up, before heading out for a chilly 10 mile downhill. At the bottom was Silverton, where we stopped at a gas station to warm up again in the van and have a break before hitting the next 2 passes. The next two were 7 miles and 3 miles uphill respectively, and after all that we have done and how hard we know mountains can be, they were not too bad at all.

One of the most beautiful scenes on my ride (that day, and perhaps all summer...):


The picturesque Rockies that you've always imagined:


Andrew, on his bike again, beating those Rocky Mountains!


At the end of the ride was a 30 mile downhill which brought us into Durango. What a fun ride it was! I was SO impressed with everyone. Every person that started this ride, finished it, and finished it strong. I'm so proud of how far we've ridden and how strong we've become.

Durango has been great. The Pedersons (Molly's family) have been wonderful hosts, as has the Habitat for Humanity group here. We did a small build day today, by helping out with some landscaping on a house and moving things at the local Habitat Re-Store. We had some time this afternoon to explore Durango, which is a very outdoorsy town with great cafes, outdoors shops, and a trolley! At dinner we met a couple of the families that will be moving into Habitat houses here soon and talked with them about the affordable housing situation here. Which is actually very similar to other towns that also rely heavily on the tourist industry (like in Nags Head, where we started). Thanks for sharing your stories, our stay has been wonderful, and we hope that Bike and Build will see you next year!