All the Pictures Fit to Post

So, sorry. I know I promised you photos and videos a very long time ago, and I know that no one is still checking this blog. But for whatever it's worth, I finally got around to it:

Ride to the Coast

One More Article, and Video

Article:
http://lohud.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070909/NEWS02/709090356/1018/NEWS02

Video. http://lohud.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070908/VIDEO01/70908003/1018/NEWS02

Thank You Thank You Thank You

Hey everyone. Well, I made it. I can't quite believe it, actually, but I'm here. I rolled into my hometown at around 2:30pm on Thursday, September 6th 2007, after 32 riding days out of 37 total days; 2,658.82 miles (83.09 miles per day); approximately 200 hours of ride time (~6 hours per day); approximately 13.3 avg mph; over 100,000 vertical feet of climbing. And boy, are my legs tired. I mean, really, really tired.

I'm going to get all this photo and video stuff sorted out eventually, but for now I'd just like to thank a few people. Thanks, firstly, to everyone in Telluride who helped to send me out in style and with such a strong feeling of support behind me, particularly: My roommate, Kiley; Andy Bagnall; Stacy, Rose, and Bridgette; and Andrew Wynne. Thanks also to my sister, Eve, for hounding media outlets across the country to get me coverage and for never once ending a voicemail message before getting cut off by the time limit. Thanks of course to my parents, for losing lots of sleep over this but never once telling me not to do it. Thanks to Alex for driving out to New Jersey (which he hates) just to pick up my trailer on the last night so that I could make the last leg unencumbered. Thanks to all those people -- some I've talked about here, many I haven't -- who went out of their way to make me feel welcome in their state, city, or town, I really couldn't have made it without you all. Finally, a thousand thanks to everyone that donated to the Lance Armstrong Foundation in support of this crazy adventure. I swear to you that every last dollar helped push me a little further towards my goal and prevented me from ever considering giving up. The ride being finished does not, of course, mean it's too late to donate. My page at the LAF isn't going anywhere and you can always help the cause.

Naturally, there are more people I need to include in these thank yous, but I'm so tired I just can't remember who I've forgotten. I'm sure it'll come to me soon though. Okay, I'm going back to bed now, more later.

Tee Hee!

I'm in Hackettstown, NJ. I'm 69.4 miles from home. How about that?

Not Long Now

Tonight I'm in Mansfield, OH at a Holiday Inn. I was planning on camping tonight, but the day's ride was much longer and tougher than anticipated. When you throw in the unrelenting humidity of the last three or so days, it made sense to get to an air-conditioned room. I spent last night sweating through my pillow sleeping in the county fairgrounds of London, OH. The front desk agent here asked me about my ride when I was checking in, and when I mentioned the LAF she gave me a discounted rate on the room! The "government rate." Score.

Anyway, for the last two days I've had a positively incorrigible 15mph headwind. I mean this bugger just won't let up for a minute. Remember the "Mountains of the Midwest" thing? Now I believe that to be an understatement. Give me the Rockies, any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

Alright, that's enough complaining out of me. No photos today, as I'm using the lobby computer. I think what I'll have to do is wait until I get to New York, and then start posting all the pictures and videos I haven't been able to get out to you yet. Sorry, I guess you'll have to wait a bit longer. I think I've only got about a week or so left of riding, yay!

Wind: The Mountains of the Midwest

Here's a photo of John, Natalie, and me, doing the family photo pose.


A couple of their friends have a show on community radio in Urbana and we went and they "interviewed" me. It wasn't the most...professional interview I've done so far, but it was a ton of fun. At one point I was asked about the music I listen to when I'm riding and I mentioned Tom Petty, and they wanted to play one of his songs on the air. They didn't have any in their collection, so they went to Tom Petty's Myspace page and played one from there. Turns out, all that's on that MySpace page are 30 second clips, so they kept ending up with dead air. It was really funny. Eventually, another friend, Dave, who we had played music with the previous night in John's basement and had been listening to the show in his car, came by the studio with two Tom Petty CDs in hand. Sweet.

This is one of the hosts, Matt:

This is me and Ian, the other host:

This is the Peanut Gallery:

So my rest day in Urbana was fun and it was great seeing John and Natalie again (friends from college).

The next day I rode into Indiana. I was riding south to get down towards Cincinnati when I rode into a torrential downpour near Terre Haute. I mean it was really coming down, for about 15 miles into town and it wasn't letting up. I stopped at the first motel I saw, desperate to get out of the rain and my soaked and dirty clothes (I didn't get a chance to do laundry in Urbana; or rather, I didn't bother to do laundry in Urbana), but they were completely booked. So I rode another couple of miles further into the city to the next motel, which was also completely booked. I asked if there was anyplace that might not be completely booked and the motel clerk looked at me blankly and said, "Nowhere." I asked what was going on in town and he mumbled something I didn't quite catch and asked the people standing behind me what they needed. They looked at me and made some stupid comment about it not being a nice night for a ride (thanks, that's very helpful) and then started complaining to the clerk about their bed not being a king-sized. I'm not kidding.

So I waited outside under the covered area outside the office, contemplating my next move while waiting for the rain to let up. After about a half hour it calmed down enough for me to get back on the bike. I used my GPS to find the city park, which actually wasn't very far. I rode through and found this really nice amphitheater where I decided to sleep for the night. I knew the park was closed after dark and was nervous that I would be asked to leave if the police came by, but I couldn't think of any other options.

I didn't bother setting up my tent, and just unrolled my sleeping pad and sleeping bag. Aside from one drunk guy that stumbled across the stage shortly before dawn and a maintenance man that came just after dawn to check the lights, there were no problems. The maintenance guy actually apologized for waking me.

There was some bad news though. Before I got set up for the night, I stupidly attempted to pull my bike up the steps of the stage, with the trailer attached. I think I was so tired and in such a mood that I wasn't thinking clearly. Predictably, I couldn't keep the trailer straight up the stairs, and it tipped over. Long story short, I broke the rear derailleur hanger, making the bike unusable. So I had that to think about all night long.

The next morning, again using the GPS, I walked my bike and everything to the nearest bike shop (thank goodness there is a bike shop there). Fortunately, the shop was open a half hour before the posted opening time and the owner was very nice when he told me I was screwed. You see, my bike uses a rear derailleur hanger that no other brand uses and is available only from the manufacturer. With my head in my hands and that slow feeling of dread beginning to take over at the thought of spending another night, showerless and exhausted, in the park of the city of Terre Haute, IN, a flash of lightning struck my brain and I remembered the shiny new replacement rear derailleur hanger that was sent with the bike and sitting in my seat bag! Thirty seconds later my bike was back together and I was on my way, once again.

Oh, by the way, the owner of the bike shop (Fat Bikes) informed me that the reason there were no rooms available anywhere in the city of Terre Haute and I had to sleep outdoors on a concrete stage was that there was a diesel truck pull at the fairgrounds that weekend. Yep.

Anyhoo, the rest of Indiana was actually quite nice. It's more hilly and has a greater variety of scenery than anyplace I've been since Colorado. I actually got to ride through a State Park, which had trees, instead of cornfields! Right on. There were places, however, that resembled much of the rest of the midwest (i.e., flat, cornfields, nothing else) where the wind was more of factor than it's been before on this trip. In fact, every time I've been riding south I've been reduced to a snail's pace. It's really demoralizing. During my radio interview in Urbana, Ian mentioned that wind is the mountains of the Midwest. I took that to heart. It really does slow me down as much as climbing does in some circumstances, but it's worse because you know it's going to last as long as you keep heading in the same direction, which at times is to the horizon and beyond.

I'm in Cincinnati, OH now at my friend Liz's place (we were roommates in Queens, NY a couple of years ago). Cincinnati is really hilly. Liz just got home from work, so more on Cincy later.

Doggonit, I'm Doing a Full Update

Okay, let's backtrack again. I think I left you last time around Fort Collins, is that right? We'll just assume that it is, cause I'm too lazy to go back and read my old posts. So the day we left Ft. Collins, CO was the day we ended in Stoneham, where I infamously lost my shoe. I think everything that can be said about that has been said, so I'll move on. The next day we rode to Holyoke, CO through some of the worst heat we've experienced to date. My cyclecomputer read as much as 113 degrees F, though of course, that reading is affected by the direct sunlight on the plastic housing. A few miles outside of town it began raining, eventually turning into a torrential downpour. Fortunately, we found a laundromat to shelter us (and do some much-needed cleaning) before the rain got really bad. After the rain let up a little bit we found a campground and that's where I took some photos like this:


The next day we set out for McCook, NE. This was a tough day. Fred had a bunch of flats and I discovered a problem with my chainring that forced to me to ride with essentially just two or three gears until we got to Lincoln several days later. Fred also crashed on an oil slick turning into the town of Palisade, NE, getting some pretty good road rash on his calf and aggravating his broken wrist. The one bright spot of that 102.6 mile day was the American Legion Hall in Palisade. As we rode into the small town we asked a man crossing the street if there was a market in town where we could get some food, and he suggested we come into American Legion where it was air-conditioned. He gave us beer and we chatted with the locals for a bit which helped tremendously, and we flew through the last leg into McCook.

In McCook we found a free city campsite with bathrooms, showers, and electrical outlets. Unfortunately, just as we were about to go to sleep this guy walked unsteadily up to us carrying a huge backpack. He started telling us about how he was hitching across the country to somewhere. It became clear that he was drunk and not really coherent. Once we finally extricated ourselves from the conversation and got into our tents I noticed that he was sitting on a picnic table across the campground, just staring at us and the other people that were camping there (the site was almost full, mostly of people in RV's and on motorcycles). Anyway, I was nervous all night long that he was going to try to steal something and didn't sleep very well. I looked up many times and he was always just sitting on that table in the dark, until very early in the morning when I looked up and saw him lying down under a covered area nearby. When I got up in the morning he was gone, so perhaps my suspicions were unwarranted, but the dude freaked me out nonetheless.

The next day we were supposed to ride to Holdrige, NE. But we only got a few miles east of McCook, just past the small town of Indianola, when the bolt that holds my seat clamp tight broke off as I was attempting to adjust my saddle height. We rode back into Indianola hoping to find a hardware store, but everything was closed for the town's "Old Settler's Day Celebration." We rode into the town park and were practically pounced on by people offering assistance. Two men, Bernie and Travis, spent nearly two hours with us, trying everything they could think of to help fix the problem. Eventually, Travis led us back to his garage where he drilled a new hole in the clamp and poached a quick-release skewer from an old bicycle and got us back on the road. Then, at around the same place on the road that I first broke off that bolt, a woman driving into town stopped, ran across the street, and handed us each a bottle of water, with no explanation other than she thought we could use them. How about that? Nebraska is good people.

Despite that heartwarming experience, we only made it 55 miles, to Arapahoe, NE, by 8pm. An awfully long day for a short distance.

The following day wasn't much better for riding. The heat was hot, to borrow from Neil Young, and we only went another 60 miles to Minden where we stayed in a motel for the first time since Fort Collins.

We got back on track the next day, as the riding was flatter and the air was less humid. We rode 81.6 miles to Fairmont, NE where we camped in a city park next to a swimming pool. Just after dark, a car pulled up near us and a family got out and walked up to where we sitting. The mother was holding a large tupperware container filled with homemade cookies and she told us that she heard there were cyclists camping out for the night. She was expecting a larger group and had made a ton of cookies. I felt bad, I couldn't eat more than three, even though they were really good. So thanks to the Bridges family, you folks made our day. See what I mean about Nebraska people?


After they left we hopped the fence into the pool and cooled off a bit before bed. I think we were punished for that bit of intransigence, when the sprinklers came on at 4am.

The next day we rode a blistering pace of 16.8 mph for the first 50 miles towards Denton, a suburb of Lincoln. We stayed that night and the next at the home of some family friends of Fred's. It was really nice to be in someone's home for a while. We were even given an old truck to drive in to Lincoln to get to a bike shop and to hang out with another of Fred's old friends (he used to live in Lincoln). Here's a shot of my ridiculous rain gear. The brim of the hat was blown upward by the wind, it's not really supposed to look like that.


After our much needed rest day, we rode into Shenendoah, IA, where I finally got to meet Kristan Gray of KMA 960 Radio. She had interviewed me twice before and was so amazingly nice and excited about the ride that I just had to pay her a visit. Minutes after walking in the door she had both Fred and I in a studio booth doing another interview. She talked to us for about 45 minutes or so, about a great many things. That was a really good time, I'm so glad I got to talk to her in person.


The rest of Iowa, however, was not so kind to us. As I've already mentioned, the roads and drivers are, on balance, not cycling friendly. And then there was the problem of the broken hub in Osceola and losing my riding companion the next day, which is not, of course, specifically Iowa's fault, but it's a problem of trends as I see it.

Anyway, I finally made it out of Iowa, crossing the Mississippi River into Illinois. I've enjoyed this state, even though the majority of my riding has been on roads without paved shoulders (like Iowa), because the drivers have not been hassling me (unlike Iowa).

So, finally, we're up to date. 1,608.07 miles over 20 days of riding. I'm more than halfway, with approximately two weeks left to go. Next up, I have to get through Indiana on my way to visit my friend Liz in Cincinnati. I was initially planning on three days between here and there, but that would put me in Cinci a day before Liz gets back from a weekend trip she's taking. So now I think I'll try to break up Indiana into four days, reducing my mileage each day and giving my legs more of a rest. I feel strong, but I can't shake the sensation of a creeping fatigue in my legs. It's a fatigue that I feel mostly off the bike when I'm walking and hasn't seriously effected my pedaling, yet, but I need to keep an eye on it.

Through to Illinois

It's been a while since my last update and there's much to tell, but I'll start with the biggest news: it appears that I'll be completing the ride by myself. A few days ago Fred left me on the side of the road and I haven't seen him since. So I suppose I'm going solo from here on out, which is fine. I'm in Urbana, IL, staying with my college friends John and Natalie. We're about to sit down to dinner, so I'll leave the details for later (don't worry, tomorrow is a rest day, you'll get a proper update soon). Here are some pics: yet another campsite sunset; crossing the Mississippi River; CORN!

And.....We're Back

Okay, problem solved. I had to get a cab 40 miles up to Des Moines to a bike shop where I bought a whole new wheel. It would have taken too long to get a new hub shipped from the manufacturer and I still would have needed a bike shop to rebuild the wheel with the new hub, so I sucked it up, paid for the cab and the new wheel. Fred and I are both super tired after all the stress, so we'll probably just spend the night here even though we technically could make it to the next town over. With the exception of an amazing radio interview we did with Kristan Gray of KMA in Shenendoah on our first day, Iowa has not been kind to us. The roads here are atrocious and the drivers are the worst this side of Boston. That being said, all the people we've met off the bikes, including my taxi driver, have been wonderful. But Iowa roads are not cycling friendly.

Uh Oh

Hit a big snag just now. We're in Osceola, IA. We were just riding into town on a side road where there was construction and a heavy gauge wire caught my rear wheel, ripping a spoke through the hub. Normally, a broken spoke is no big deal, but the problem is the spoke is fine, but my hub is destroyed. So now we're weighing our options to figure out how to proceed. At the bare minimum, we've lost another day.

Photos, Finally!

Here are a few quick photos for you. Our picnic dinner one night; some lovely flat-land scenery; a midwestern sunset storm. And the header photo is of the road out of the mountains toward Denver.

Well, I'm in Lincoln, NE at another public library. I brought my camera but the damned computer won't let me upload any photos, grrrr! Anyhoo, I suppose I'll just try to catch you all up at least a little bit. (Sidebar: For those who need more frequent and colorful updates, Fred has been keeping his blog more current.)

Let's backtrack a ways and talk about the Rockies, shall we? I'll tell you about Monarch Pass. My second day of riding was initially supposed to end in Gunnison, CO, which is a little more than 4o miles west of the beginning of the climb up Monarch. But thankfully, I felt good and made good time going into Gunny and was therefore able to push on to cut down the next day's mileage. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to camp until I got right up to the bottom of the pass, so I ended up riding nearly 40 miles further than I had originally planned for and 20 miles further than I wanted to. But it's okay, because the campground I eventually came to had a nice convenience store, a restaurant where I got a pretty good burger, and a tepee with a cot for me to sleep on so I didn't have to set up my tent and all my other gear. I have photos, but alas, they will have to wait.

So the next morning I was rested and ready for the slog up Monarch. This is an extremely long and difficult climb and I was expecting it to come pretty close to breaking my spirit. However, after about two miles of climbing I finally settled into a rhythm and was able to climb at quite a steady pace, which is the absolute best way to attack a tough climb of any nature. Again, pictures speak louder here, so I'll just give you the vital statistics:

10.48 miles from bottom to top
2:09:25 ride time
4.8mph average
2,677' vertical gain
4% average gradient
10% maximum grade

When I got to the summit I stopped in front of the Forest Service sign to take a photograph and I heard a voice say, "Welcome to the top." I looked behind the sign and saw another cyclist who was sitting against the sign writing up some postcards. Turns out he had ridden up from the other direction and was on a week-long ride across Colorado. We chatted a bit and I gave him some advice about stopping in Telluride and he told me what to expect on the descent. I love meeting other riders on the road.

The descent was fast and easy (no hairpins) and before I knew it I was in Salida, CO doing an interview with Jonathan Schwab of the Salida Mountain Mail. Poor guy was nursing a number of injuries from a mountain bike accident; he had his left arm held inside his t-shirt like a sling. But he was interested in my story, asked good questions, and had his photographer take some action shots of me on my way out of town. He says the article should be published shortly, and I'll post a link to it when it comes out.

I spent that night at a KOA in Johnson Village.
Totals for the day:

58.51 miles
5:20:43 ride time
3,894' vertical
10.9mph average

(Spoiler alert: These average speeds will increase proportionately to the decrease in vertical gain. Thank you, Nebraska.)

The next day I continued north, riding through the town of Fairplay where I stopped to take a self-portrait with the "Welcome to" sign, which my sister Eve then emailed to the paper so they could print just the photo with a brief caption. I continued up 285 to the town of Bailey, where I asked several people where I could camp for the night. Everyone initially looked around like a lunatic had just asked directions to the asylum and then told me to turn around and find a spot of National Forest Service land, which I did, backtracking a few miles in a burgeoning rain storm until I found this dirt road climb. This is where I set up camp and my new friend Sean offered me his camper for the night, as mentioned below.

80.57 miles
7:20:01 on the saddle
10.9 mph average
4,215' vertical (though there's always the possibility of this being well off because of the barometric pressure changes caused by the storm)

The next day was my last in the Rockies. The riding was relatively uneventful, though it left me with the memory of being constantly above 8,000' and wondering when I was going to start the descent into Denver. I knew Denver is around 5,300' or so, and therefore, every mile I pedaled above 8,000' meant my descent would be that much steeper. I've only got ten minutes left before this computer boots me off, so I'll just say quickly that the descent was exactly what I had been anticipating. Approximately 12 miles straight downhill. Hardly pedalled at all. Again, I was happy that there were few hairpins and I almost never touched my brakes.

Also, I chose not to stop in Denver and pushed on all the way to Fort Collins.

104.71 miles
8:16:06 riding
12.5mph average
4,066' vertical

Okay, gotta go. I'll catch you up on the rest of the trip since then (and, hopefully, add some audio/visual material) as soon as I can. I'll be in Iowa tomorrow. See ya!

Where's My Shoe?

Hey all,

If you're in or around Stoneham, CO and you happen to find a black Shimano carbon-fiber cycling shoe with a red Look ARC cleat for the left foot, possibly in the tall grass, possibly with bite marks from a dog all over it, I would sure appreciate your letting me know. You see, I somehow managed to lose said shoe and have ridden the past 180 miles or so with one proper cycling shoe and one Adidas flip-flop, which is not really the ideal setup in terms of efficiency or comfort or style or anything else.

I'm here in McCook, NE, at the public library, waiting ten more minutes for the post office to open where I've had a new pair of shoes sent to general delivery. I guess you could call this situation a minor mishap.

Anyway, yesterday was a tough day. It was brutally hot all day and we rode 102 miles through some relatively uninteresting terrain. Both Finn and I had a few mechanical problems which slowed us down and Finn had a minor fall turning through an oil slick in Palisade, NE. Fortunately, the good people at the American Legion hall took pity and gave us beer and an air conditioned respite. The last 15 miles of the day we covered in less than half the time it took us to ride the previous 15 miles, due mostly to the cooler dusk temperatures and the motivation to get to McCook.

Obviously, there's much more to tell you about and I wish could post some photos, but you'll just have to wait for that, as the post office should be open soon and we want to get back on the road. Talk to you again soon!

Rest Day

I met up with Finn yesterday in Fort Collins and we're taking a rest day here. I'm writing from the library at CSU, which is really nice by the way. Yesterday I was just supposed to ride around the city looking for a place for us to stay or to camp for the night, but I ended up riding about 30 miles. Not a lot compared to what I've been doing, but I wasn't even wearing my bike shorts or jersey because I thought it would be a lighter day, so it still took its toll on my caboose.

I was on my way out of town, heading toward a KOA (Campground of America; I don't know what the story is with the "K") when I saw Finn on the other side of the road. I had been climbing a hill and didn't even notice him until he stopped and yelled across the street. A funny way to meet, I thought, especially after not having seen him in nine months.

Shit. Finn just directed me to this headline from cnn.com: Dangerous heat has parts of U.S. sweating. Turns out the plains states are expecting a record heat wave, right as we're riding through. Ugh... The heat is the only thing that actually worries me about this ride. It'll be okay though, we're careful people and we know how to deal with it. It may push our schedule back by a few days, which is fine but frustrating. We'll have to go slower and stop earlier than we would otherwise. Oh well.

I forgot to bring my card reader, so no photos today. Sorry. Here's a quick story for you:

On Day Four I rode into the tiny mountain hamlet of Bailey, CO and asked at a local cafe for directions to a campground. They weren't too sure, but they told me to turn back the way I'd come and go about two miles back to Shawnee, where there's National Forest Service land on which I could set up a tent for free. It was just beginning to rain at this point, so, reluctantly, I retraced my steps until I found this dirt road that they had mentioned. I rode, very slowly, up until I found a flat piece of ground that I thought might be an acceptable spot, in between two sections of obviously private property. I eventually got my tent set up and prepared to spend the rest of the night cooped up out of the rain (this was around 5pm, I think).

After an hour and a half or so, spent anxiously peering through my rain fly every so often at the sound of barking dogs and passing cars (I was afraid that I had actually set myself up on someone's front yard and would be asked to pack up and leave in the middle of the storm), someone called out to me. He said he knew what it was like to camp out in the rain and offered me a bed in his camper. At first I politely refused, but with his insistence and promises of a warm, dry place to sleep, I found myself enthusiastically accepting. His name is Sean and he and his wife were amazingly kind hosts, saying modestly that that's what you do in small towns. Long story short, I had the best night's sleep since leaving Telluride.

Made it to Fort Collins

Hey all!

I finally made it to a hotel in Ft. Collins and they've got internet access! I've got some time before the closest bike shop opens so I can give you a brief update, and soon I'll be able to give some more details.

The trip has been amazing thus far. The first five days through the mountains were absolutely brutal but well worth it. I don't have my notes with me (this is a public computer in the lobby), but I can tell you that I've made good mileage every day through some extremely challenging climbs. The toughest single climb was Monarch Pass on Day 3. Seven miles straight up at about a 7% grade, not a single flat spot the whole way. I kept my GPS on and the graph of the elevation profile both up and down is astounding. Bizarrely enough, though, I felt great the entire time. The first two days were exactly like they were the first time I rode them during my Gunnison trip (that is, tragically difficult and hot), but I never once felt bad all the way to the summit of Monarch. I went very slowly of course, but I felt good.

Yesterday I got to finally ride out of the mountains. That was incredible. No less than 12 miles straight downhill, from over 8,000 ft to the mid 5,000 ft of the Denver area. I'm not sure I can describe how I felt at the first glimpse I had of the plains and then of the Denver high-rises. Let's just say I started to laugh and then nearly cried.

There is sooo much more to say about the past five days, but this is a public computer and I don't want to hog it. Finn should be getting to town today so at some point I should be able to make a full report on his computer. Talk to you again soon!

I'm Off!

Catch you on the flip side...

Interview on Plum

Here's that video of my interview on Plum TV. Ramona mispronounced my name at the beginning but I didn't correct her. Moments before we went live she confirmed the pronunciation and I could have sworn she had it right, but I guess I heard wrong. Oh well, the rest of the interview went pretty well. The discussion of "butt cream" drew some laughs from the crew.

Oh What a Night

Success! Last night was just amazing. The auction went really well and we had a decent turnout. Not as many people as I had hoped for, but certainly no disaster.

First let me tell about the scare I had two days ago that I didn't mention before. At about 8:30pm on Thursday night my "headlining" musician, Michael Psarras called me up and said he couldn't play. If you'll remember, he did the same thing a few days before that, so I really shouldn't have been too surprised, but still... He said he had quit his job, was going to Montana for the weekend and then likely moving to Hawaii. Great. To his credit, he didn't leave me hanging. He had already called up his sometimes musical partner Gregory Eagle and asked him to play in his stead. Eagle is a fantastic guitar player with a lovely voice and his own P.A. system which is far, far superior to the one at Tommy's, so I couldn't get too upset.

Eagle called me up and seemed pretty enthusiastic about playing. He is himself in the process of promoting his own cancer benefit: The 1st Annual True Grit Days -- in honor of John Wayne's 100th birthday. To take place in Ridgway (town 35 miles north of Telluride), it will feature a huge outdoor concert with some big names, appearences by most of the living original cast members of True Grit, and a showing of the film. Sounds pretty cool. Unfortunately it's being held September 8-9, and I'll be on the bike then. If anyone wants more info on this event, call (800)220-4959 or visit www.RidgwayColorado.com

Anyway, back to the here and now. So we started things off with Andrew Wynne, who is the regular host of Open Mic night and who's been incredibly active in helping me put this night together. He only played for about 45 minutes because he had to be up early to play some music on the same morning show that interviewed me last week. We played a couple of Tom Petty songs together at the end of his set to get the crowd revved up a bit.

Yes, I've got a semi-mohawk. Wanna fight about it? I was bored and figured what better what way to motivate myself than to sport a mohawk? What's wrong with that logic?

After Andrew, it was Eagle's turn. He started off playing a song with Becca, who's a mean flautist. She also runs the Fly Me to the Moon Saloon's version of open mic and she writes the music column in the Telluride Watch. She's the one who got me the interview in the Watch and she wrote up a short blurb about the benefit on the day of.

Then Eagle's friend Steven came up and played the fiddle for the rest of the set. They finished up around midnight and then my friend Dan LeRoy got up and played with Brady McKenna. Dan and I have played together a lot. He's played djembe, acoustic bass, and acoustic and electric guitar with me. That's versatility.

Anyway, enough about the music. I'm sure you're all more interested in the auction and the money we raised, right? Well, the Limoncello shots were a hit, although it's possible we gave away as many as we sold. Candice, who's Andrew's girlfriend, volunteered to go out on the street and rally some people. She took a bag of Livestrong bracelets and sold about a dozen, convincing random people to come in and check things out. That was very cool.

The auction items were popular. In fact some of them went for a lot more than I had anticipated. The La Marmotte gift certificate, the two bottles of merlot, and the two-hour massage had the most and highest bids.

The bottom line, after all the auction items and the money from the drinks, we raised $458. That puts my grand total to date at close to $2,000.

Oh yeah, one of the most amazing experiences from last night: About five minutes after I closed the silent auction, a guy walked up to me and asked if there was anything he could do to contribute. I told him the auction was closed and all the items had been won, but he could always donate money directly. He pulled out $100 and pressed it into my hand and said he wanted me to have it. I told him there was a jar up at the bar for cash donations and I started to lead him to it, but he stopped me and said no, he's already given to the LAF, he wanted me to have the money. Said I should use it to buy food or a hotel room during the ride. How amazing is that? I'd never met him before. His name is Justin, he's a local and he just read about what I was doing and thought it was a good thing, so he wanted to help out. I was floored by that. I wanted to cry.

And perhaps the most amazing thing is that that spirit was everywhere last night. Not everyone can afford to show it the way he did, but I know that a lot of people there were feeling exactly what he was feeling. This has already been an experience I'll never forget and I haven't even started riding yet.

Another Article

This one from the Daily Planet:

Cycling the country for cancer

Published: Thursday, July 26, 2007 9:34 PM CDT
E-mail this story | Print this page

Matthew Eisenberg raises money for cancer research, Friday, 9 p.m. at Tommy’s

By Matthew Beaudin

He once rode from here to Gunnison and back in a few days. It’s a feat, some 200 plus miles and a good chunk of climbing. Thing is, he has to add a zero to that distance now.

Matthew Eisenberg will ride his bike from here to Larchmont, N.Y., a 2,300 mile trip that should last about a month if he can cover some 80 miles a day.

“I first got the idea a year ago,” he said. “And this past winter really started thinking about it seriously.”

So serious, in fact, that he contacted the Lance Armstrong Foundation and set up a grassroots website. All the money he raised — about $1,500 so far — will be given to the foundation for cancer research.

He chose the foundation for its ties to cycling and to a disease that’s claimed two grandparents.

“It’s a bit of a personal thing,” he said. “It’s something that I think a lot of people have dealt with.”

Eisenberg, 27, has been riding for only two years, and sticks solely to the road bike.

“As I was learning to ride, I spent more and more time in the saddle. I just loved it and took to it. Every mile I rode I wanted to ride more … I sort of went for broke, you know?”

Broke. Yes.

He’s been riding every day since the snow melted and mixing in running and lifting weights. He’s ready to roll. His ride is a carbon bike, though he’ll have to pull a trailer. In all, he expects the bike and trailer — which will haul camping gear and enough pasta for the mafia — to weigh in at 80 pounds.

He will head north from here to Fort Collins, where he will meet and ride with a friend, through Lincoln, Neb. to Iowa and on to Illinois. From there he’ll ride to Cincinnati and it’s north to New York from there, all the way home to mom’s kitchen.

“I’m defiantly looking forward to my mom’s veggie lasagna,” he said.

On Friday, Tommy’s will host a Ride to the Coast benefit night, donating a portion of the proceeds to the LAF. The night will feature local musicians, a silent auction, drink specials, Livestrong bracelets and more. For more information on the event, contact Matt at (970)729-1554, Bridgette at (773)316-0217 or e-mail matteisenberg@gmail.com.

There was also a goofy photo in the print edition, but it didn't make it online. They also failed to provide the link to this blog. Bummer.

Not Long Now...

Phew! I think I'm finally ready for the big night tomorrow. I've gotten all the silent auction items wrapped up and just finished writing up the bid sheets for each one. There aren't nearly as many items as I was aiming for, in fact, at nine so far it's about half of what I was expecting. Still, they're all great items that should be pretty easy to get rid of. I calculated that if everything goes just for its minimum bid price (rouhgly 30-35% of its retail value) then we'll bring in a little less than $200 for the LAF. Of course, I hope that most of the items will go for more than that and I could end up with closer to $300.

I wish I had thought of this months ago so I could have planned it better and maybe pulled in a lot more, but I'll probably still give myself a pat on the back when all is said and done for getting this thing together in a just about a week and a half. If I ever find myself in a position to do something similar I'll have this experience to help me do it better. (Honestly, though, I don't wanna do this again, it's wicked hard! I'm exhausted.)

Here's a list of the auction items and their full retail value:

Two bottles of wine from Telluride Bottle Works, $45
ExOfficio shirt from Telluride Outside, $50
Gift Certificate from Brown Dog Pizza, $30
Gift Certificate from Steaming Bean Coffee Co, $50
Gift Certificate from Tommy's, $50
Gift Certificate from La Marmotte, $75
One Bottle of wine from Telluride Liquors, $15
Full tune-up for a mountain bike from Paragon Sports, $50
Two hour massage and/or healing session from Telluride Natural Medical Center, $160

That last one is interesting. I got a phone call two days ago from a woman named Sunny McCory. She said she read the article about me in the Telluride Watch. She's an "intuitive healer," which is a phrase I hadn't heard before, but she specializes in helping people with cancer and she was really interested in finding a way to help out with my project. How cool is that? I think she was hoping that there would be people at Tommy's tomorrow night who might be able to take advantage of what she has to offer, but I had to tell her that I'm not sure if that'll be the case. It would be fantastic if the local press I've gotten attracts people in town that have or have survived cancer, but I don't know very many in town, so that may not happen. Still, I'm certain a two-hour massage won't go cheaply.

So some of the nerves are subsiding now that I've gotten all the preparations and all the press out of the way (I did a brief radio announcement on KOTO that'll be broadcast during the news today and tomorrow morning; and I had an interview and an on-the-bike photo shoot with the Daily Planet for an article to run tomorrow; it was a busy day). With all of this running around and all the rain we've gotten I've had very little time on the bike this past week. So now I'm a bit more anxious about the first few legs of the ride than I was before I got bogged down in all the fund raising, but oh well, it'll be fine. I can't wait to get riding. In fact, I may actually leave a day or two early just to satisfy the little demon in my gut that won't let me sit still. We'll see.

Finn's Radio Interview

I'm not the only one getting media coverage. Here's Finn's interview with Wyoming Public Radio, heard throughout the state.

Telluride Watch Interview

Check it out, my interview with the Telluride Watch:
http://www.telluridewatch.com/articles/2007/07/23/sports/doc46a52de1cccab715618221.txt

Local Cyclist Embarks on Journey to Fight Cancer

By Martinique Davis
Monday, July 23, 2007 4:46 PM MDT


TELLURIDE, July 23, 4:38 p.m. – Local cyclist Matt Eisenberg will start pedaling his road bike on Aug. 1, and won’t really stop for the next month to month-and-a-half.

Eisenberg is embarking on a nearly 2,300-mile, cross-country road trip – on his bicycle. And while he’ll get off his bike to sleep and eat, Eisenberg will spend the large majority of the next 30 to 40 days in the bike saddle, making his way from Telluride to New York. The trip is not, as Eisenberg says, “just a pleasure cruise.” He is tackling the extensive, long distance bicycle journey to raise money in support of cancer research for Livestrong, the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

“I don’t know anyone who hasn’t been touched by cancer at some time in their life,” he says of his decision to do the cross-country ride in support of cancer research. “This is a cause people can relate to, and really rally behind.”

The LAF was established in 1997, after professional road cyclist Lance Armstrong was diagnosed with, and subsequently survived, advanced testicular cancer. In one of the greatest comeback stories of all time, Armstrong went on to win cycling’s most grueling races, the Tour de France, less than three years after he was diagnosed with cancer. He went on to win the event six more times.

Since its inception, the LAF has raised $181 million to support cancer survivorship programs and initiatives to make cancer a national priority. Eisenberg’s challenge, to ride from Telluride to New York, while raising money for LAF, falls under the organization’s Grassroots Fundraising Initiative. The program invites people from around the country to create their own unique fundraisers to support LAF’s programs.

Eisenberg, and his Ride to the Coast fundraiser, has a page on the LAF website where people can pledge their support. He is also bringing the cause closer to home, organizing a Ride to the Coast Night at Tommy's bar in Telluride this Friday night.

“It’s all about trying to get the Telluride community more involved,” Eisenberg says of this Friday’s Ride to the Coast Night, which will include live local music, drink specials, Livestrong bracelets, and a silent auction to help raise funds for LAF.

After Eisenberg launched his website in late May, he quickly raised more than $1,400, all of which will go directly to LAF. His ultimate goal is to reach $5,000, and he’s hoping that this weekend’s silent auction will put him in spitting distance of that target.

“This is the type of community that could really get behind a cause like this,” he says.

The concept of raising money for national cancer research and survivorship programs through a grassroots fundraiser such as Ride to the Coast was not Eisenberg’s initial objective. He simply felt the urge to ride his bike across the country.

“There is something about being on a bike – it’s just a wonderful experience, traveling to other places and seeing things from an entirely different perspective,” he says. “You can see and feel things that you just can’t from a car or a motorcycle. It’s a beautiful experience to be out on the road… I can’t imagine a more rewarding experience than riding up to my parent’s house in New York and saying ‘Hey, I made it.’”

Eisenberg started cycling only two years ago, and was quickly hooked. Even while skiing this winter, the though of being out on the road on his bike wouldn’t leave his mind. Somewhere in all that daydreaming about cycling Eisenberg came up with the idea of riding his bike from here to New York. When he started sharing his plans, a friend suggested he do the ride in support of a charitable cause. It didn’t take long for Eisenberg to choose the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

In preparation for the ride, Eisenberg has been training nearly every day this spring and summer. The ride will be completely self-supported; Eisenberg will be pulling a trailer with camping gear and supplies, following an easterly route that roughly follows I-80 (he won’t be riding on the interstate, but on secondary roads.)

From Telluride, he will ride northwards to Fort Collins, where he will meet a friend who will join him for the remainder of the ride East. They will ride across Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana, dropping north briefly to stay with friends in Cincinnati before heading back north into Pennsylvania and finally New York. He anticipates the ride will take between 30-40 days, depending on weather conditions and barring any mechanical problems. That equates to more than 50 miles each day, with a rest day every ten or so days.

He says that the idea seems daunting now, but come Aug. 1, he’ll be more than ready for the challenge. And he does have another reason to get riding; he has to be in New York no later than Oct. 5, the date of his best friend’s wedding.

Eisenberg says that he has already solicited a number of great items for this Friday night’s silent auction; to donate an item for the silent auction, contact Matt at 970/729-1554 or Bridgette at 773/316-0217 or email matteisenberg@gmail.com.

The Ride to the Coast Night at Tommy's will begin at 9 p.m. on Friday. If you can’t make it to the Friday fundraiser, you can always donate online; visit

http://www.livestrong.org/grassroots/ridingforareason2007. For more information on Eisenberg’s ride, or to see a map of his route, visit his website www.ridetothecoast.blogspot.com.

The Route, More or Less

People have been having difficulty trying to view the route on Google Maps, I think because when I click on the link it takes me to my saved maps and when you click on it it takes you to your saved maps. There's probably a way to get around that, but for now here's a rough image of the route, which was just hand drawn in Google Earth, so it's not as exact because it doesn't follow roads. Now that I look at it, it's actually very inaccurate, but at least you can get a basic sense of where we'll be.

TV Interview

I just had my first ever live television interview. I sat down with Ramona from Telluride's Plum TV affiliate for about six minutes during the Morning, Noon and Night show which is the weekend morning show that Kiley used to host. I was a bit nervous as I waited to go on, but the interview was surprisingly fun. I will attempt to get a copy and find out if they'll let me post it here.

Bob Dylan played in Town Park last night. I had a great time, although the music was actually secondary. His singing was mostly unintelligible, as he just mumbled through most of the songs. Still, his band was great and they performed a very cool version of Masters of War, a song he wrote about 16 years before I was born.

This is a painting that Lisa did for me almost a year ago when I first told her I was planning this ride. It's hanging on my wall facing my bed, so it's one of the first things I see when I get up in the morning. A potent motivator, wouldn't you say?

The quote is from a Damien Rice song.

Silent Auction Coming Together

So I spent a few hours yesterday going around soliciting businesses for silent auction bid items. An interesting experience. It's a little difficult walking into a shop or restaurant and asking for charity. I was having trouble working out a concise spiel that would grab an owner's attention, but despite my bumblings I managed to get a really positive response, overall.

Almost every place I went in seemed enthusiastic and promising, and one place (La Marmotte, a fantastic French restaurant) wrote out a gift certificate right then and there, which was wonderful. Some other places were a bit more noncommittal and there were several that didn't have someone available to talk to me, so I just left a short summary with my card. There were two places that rejected me flat out and wouldn't even take my little piece of paper, which was a bit shocking, but still, I understand. I'm sure they're always being asked to give things away for nothing, especially after the whole Valley Floor thing (massive eminent domain fund raising project completed this past spring).

There are still more places to try and I'm hopeful that I can get approximately 20-25 items for the auction and try to raise at least $500, plus what Tommy's brings in on drinks. It turns out that the Turkey Creek Ramblers are playing a show in Montrose that day, but that's fine because I've got a commitment from Michael Psarras to play. He's a great singer/guitar player that plays open mic sometimes and plays a regular gig at Las Montanas. It should be a great night, I can hardly wait.

Here's a shot from the top of the hike up the pass in Jackson.

More on Ride to the Coast Night

The Tommy's fund raiser night is coming along nicely. Everyone around here has been so eager to help me out, it's a bit overwhelming. I've had numerous offers from people wanting to share their contacts and put me in touch with people that could help. My friend Andrew who is the regular host at open mic has offered to help me with a press-release and to put me in contact with people at the paper and the radio station. He's also come up with the best idea yet for that night: Silent Auction. Eh? Eh??

I've written up a little solicitation letter that I'm going to take door-to-door to local businesses in an effort to get some auction items. I've seen this work to great success many times before, I really hope I can generate some solid participation...Keep your fingers crossed!

Also, I'm waiting to hear back from The Turkey Creek Ramblers, a home-grown bluegrass band that has taken off recently. They're a ton of fun and likely to get people through the door if I can get them to play a set that night. There are a number of other musicians that would be great to have play too, but TCR would best fit the mood I want to create.

Stacy from Tommy's suggested pairing Ride to the Coast Night with a shot-themed night they were planning anyway. She had a clever name for it, but I forget what it was. It would involve paying one price for a selection of five shots of their own invention, I think. And as she pointed out, alcohol tends to loosen purse strings. Teehee!

Finally, there will be a table selling those yellow Livestrong bracelets. I have a box of 100. I hope they sell, because I had to purchase them from the LAF, they wouldn't give them to me as an advance on the donation. What I don't sell that night I'll take with me on the road and try to sell them to people I meet on the way. They're only $1, so I figure for those people who say they can't afford to make a donation I can present them with that option. Most people can afford $1, right? Especially since they're getting something in return?

Okay, how 'bout some more winter photos? These were taken when I lived in Jackson Hole.

Thanks Tommy's!

As some of you know, I've been playing music at a local pub called Tommy's since the winter when it was bought by three wonderful women from Chicago. They put on an Open Mic night every Wednesday and I've been to almost every one. I've also played there by request a couple of times, most recently to celebrate the birthday of one of the lovely ladies, Rose. Needless to say, I've gotten to know them and they've gotten to know me, and a little while ago I asked them if they could host a benefit night to help me raise some more money and get more of the local crowd involved in the ride and they said yes, enthusiastically. Yippee!

So on Friday, July 27th, it's gonna be Ride to the Coast night at Tommy's! There will be live music and Tommy's will donate a portion of the proceeds. We're gonna put fliers up around town, contact the paper and the radio station, we'll set up a booth to sell Livestrong bracelets, and there'll be computer terminals set to the blog and to the LAF website. Sounds good, right? I'm jazzed about the whole thing.

Anyone have suggestions about what else we can do? I'm all ears. I was thinking we could create a cycling-themed cocktail. No sure what would go in it though...hehehe.

Thanks Bridgette, Stacy, and Rose! You're wonderful!

So I was riding through town a little while ago and some guy on a motorcycle pulls up along side me and says, "Hey, you know you've got a scorpion on your butt?" How does one respond to a comment like that?

New and Improved!

I just finished marking the map with possible daily destinations and distances. Much of this is likely to change, of course. For instance, according to this most of our days will end up being around 80-85 miles. I'm not sure if that's entirely realistic. I think a lot of those will have to come down to between 60 and 70 miles.

Also, this schedule has us completing the ride in just 32 days, which is clearly ridiculously shorter than I anticipated. I think I need to go ahead and adjust those distances. Ordinarily I would do that before posting, but I just spent several hours doing this and really need to get away from the computer for a while. My method for determining these rest stops was really too ludicrous to mention, but at least I've got a good place from which to start editing the route later.

And no, I didn't use the GPS to map the route. I tried, but the PC software it came with seems so much clunkier than Google, and doing the entire route on the handheld unit is too much work. My plan is to use the GPS as a backup, because, as Finn noted, Google maps can be a bit unreliable. The GPS will also prove particularly useful when trying to find specific things in cities and towns, such as a post office, restaurant, or movie theater.

Here's another shot from the Yellowstone ride. This is just past the entrance to Grand Teton National Park, with the Grand behind me.

Route Update

Here's the latest route.

Changes include a stop in Fort Collins, CO where Finn and I will meet up (the timing for this part could be tricky -- he's 500 miles from Fort Collins and I'm 400 miles away), and a stop in Nazareth, PA where Finn's mother and step-father live.

I expect more official and unofficial changes, but it's starting to take shape. Okay, now I've gotta go ride.

Here's the Route

Okay, here's the preliminary route. I haven't conferred with Finn about it yet, so there will probably be some changes. Also, I didn't put much effort into precision, so at some places we may not be on the exact roads shown here, particularly as we get closer to New York and traffic and road quality get worse. I took a few detours, notably to go south through Urbana/Champaign (to see John and Natalie) and then further south to Cincinnati (to see Liz). I need to find out if there are places Finn wants to go through as well, but this should give you a general idea. If anyone lives close by this route and wants to say hi, just let me know.

View the map here.

Ignore those yellow "pause" markers, that's just how google maps lets you manipulate the route.

Google says it's 2,349 miles. If we average 50 miles per day, that's 47 days of riding. I'd say we can probably do quite a bit more than 50 per day, but I don't want to count on it. Factor in a rest day approximately every 10 days to bring the total up to about 52 days, give or take.

I've got one month left. This is starting to seem pretty real.

Big News!

I've been planning this ride for months now, the whole time anticipating a solo ride across the nation. I've been steeling myself for the intense solitude and lack of support (not to diminish all of the positive energy I'm getting from you, dear readers; I mean, of course, immediate support). I've been imagining myself, alone, straining against mother nature, my own body, and the immutable blacktop.

Rejoice! It now seems that I shall have a companion in my struggles against the road. The incomparable Mr. Finn, my former roommate and Jackson-to-Yellowstone conspirator has said he wants to join me again for another two-wheeled adventure. I just got off the phone with him and he's as excited about the prospect as I am. I'll let you know more when he and I have worked out some more details.

On another note, thanks to my friend Andy, I've developed a passion for a new hobby: Slacklining. It's like a tight rope except it's slack. Get it? I've done it twice now and so far I haven't gotten more than four steps in, and most of the time I struggle to get one, but it's addictive fun. Andy's only done it three times, but he's already pretty good, soon he'll be doing flips and so forth.


Please make a donation to the LAF

Once Upon a Time on Teton Pass

Disclaimer: The following post describes a high-speed crash in too much detail. Mom, you don't want to read this.

Because it's been too long since I've posted about something that is actually related in any way to cycling, I thought I'd share with you my story about the worst crash ever. Don't be alarmed, this happened almost a year ago and, obviously, I'm fine now. I just figured I haven't done anything interesting on the bike for a while, so why not tell you about this?

Last year I was living in Jackson, WY. The elevation in town is right around 6,000 feet. About five miles outside of Jackson (on the way towards the Jackson Hole ski resort, which is 12 miles away) is the small town of Wilson. Right on the northern edge of Wilson you start going up -- way up. This is Teton Pass. Just shy of six miles straight uphill, summiting at over 8,000 feet, it's an average 7% or 8% grade, max 11%. It's a killer climb, to state the obvious. The first time I did it on a bicycle it must have taken me at least an hour and a half just from the base. Before I set out that first time my goal was to make it just halfway up. You might be able to imagine the sense of accomplishment I felt when I actually summited. It's part of what made it my favorite ride in the area. At one point during the summer I was doing it once a week or so.

One day near the middle of September, 2006, I think, I set out with the Pass in my sights. It was a slightly breezy and very overcast day. In fact, the cloud ceiling was particularly low. About two thirds of the was up the climb I was riding in the clouds, which is rather unpleasant, cold and moist. Anyway, I summited in record time despite the conditions, which was an incredible feeling. I flew up that hill (something I haven't really felt like I've been able to do in Colorado for some reason, but I digress). Then comes the fun part.

In previous rides, I'd made it up in a little more than an hour and down in seven minutes. Because of the fact that visibility was poor and it was rather breezy, I was taking the descent a bit slower this time. That is, until I came through the clouds. As soon as I could see, I let her rip. Now for those of you who are shaking your heads and thinking, "What an idiot!" you're not wrong, but let me just say that I had done this before without incident and felt absolutely confident. This kind of confidence is of course hubristic and not any kind of armor, I know that now. (Although, I must say, I also now know that confidence is absolutely necessary. More on that later.)

I came down the steepest section which goes from a hairpin turn into a fairly long straight-a-way and I hit 55mph. I was moving at the exact same speed as traffic, with a white van about a thousand feet in front of me and a compact following me at a safe distance (for which I'm grateful). Near the end of the straight-a-way, with the mountainside on my left and a row of trees on my right between me and the valley below, I rode past a break in that row of trees, through which blew a stiff and unexpected gust of wind (unexpected because I didn't have the sense to mind my surroundings).

Next thing I know my front wheel is shimmying like crazy and I have to try to slow down. My next and probably most critical error was slamming on the rear brake. Naturally, my rear wheel locked up and I began fish-tailing. Before I could compute what was happening and what I could possibly have done to fix it, I was on the pavement on my left side and sliding down the road. Ultimately I must have slid several hundred feet. Fortunately, the road began curving left, which meant that since I was sliding straight I wasn't going into the on-coming lane. Unfortunately, it also meant that I was headed right for the guardrail. (None of this actually occurred to me until later when I had time to think about it.)

Finally I slammed into the guardrail with my left thigh and I came to an abrupt halt. At first I just sort of looked around and took stock briefly, and then the pain hit. I don't remember seeing the cars pull over, but as I was writhing in the dust I noticed four or five pairs of legs running towards me and then several different people asking me if I was alright. Clearly, a silly question, which actually did occur to me right then and there, but I suppose I'm not sure what else they could have said to me under the circumstances.

It was probably about three or four minutes before I could actually say anything to anyone and answer their questions. I remember actually just trying to ignore them so I could figure out just how bad this was. Some people were discussing calling an ambulance, but eventually I told them that I didn't need one if I could get a ride home with someone. The man driving the compact that had been following me immediately volunteered. I made sure to confirm that he could fit my bike in the car.

Finally I was able to stand up and I remember not being in an unreasonable amount of pain. Probably the adrenaline, but still, it was clear that I hadn't actually broken any bones. Also, I never once hit my head on anything, I remember making a conscious effort as I was sliding to keep my head up. I checked my helmet just to be sure, and there was exactly one small scratch on the exterior paint where I assume a pebble flew up and grazed it. Amazing.

I got in the guy's car (sadly, I don't recall his name) and felt okay, though very stiff. I was able to speak normally at first and we talked for the whole ride (he was in town, from Dallas, on business and had rented a car for the day to do some sightseeing). Soon enough though my cuts started to bleed and the adrenaline wore off and I began shaking. The shaking became progressively worse until the very nice man dropped me off in front of my door. I carried my bike inside (I still hadn't examined it at all, I figured I'd save that for when I was feeling better), poured myself some water, took a bunch of Advil and then got in the tub. I'll spare you the details (I know, I know, too late), but that's when I had to scrub out the gravel from my wounds. This process took a very long time and was, predictably, excruciating.

When I was finished I bandaged myself as best I could and then remembered the leftover Percocets from a skiing injury six months prior. I called in sick (I was supposed to be at my restaurant job in a few hours) and spent the next three days attempting to recuperate.

Anyway, I could go on but this has already become just about the longest post I've done. Sorry. If anyone has read this far, I thank you. The last thing I want to mention is the bike. I busted both wheels, the rim of the rear one cracked in a way I've never seen before which leads me to believe that that wheel is the part of the bike that made contact with the guardrail (I didn't see what hit at the time, too busy watching myself hit). Other than that though, hardly a scratch! Slightly torn handlebar tape and saddle, and scuff marks on the tops of the shifters were the ONLY other indicators of what happened. It looked more like a 10mph crash. Unbelievable.

I guess the guardian angel that kept me alive also hates to see bad things happen to good bicycles.

Oh yeah, before I end this tome, I mentioned something earlier about confidence. Yes, I took that particular hill much too fast and without the proper mental preparedness, and no, I'll probably never go quite that fast again. But here's the rub: after I got back on the bike I was terrified of going even 20mph downhill. I believe that that kind of fear is almost as dangerous as it's counterpart. I've had to work pretty hard and take a lot of hills to get my confidence back to a safe level. Forty five mph is as fast as I'll go now, and I know that might not sound like it's much slower than 55mph, but it really is. And I'll only do that kind of speed when the road and weather conditions are suitable. Thirty five is where I tend to max out in most cases these days.

So anyway, there you have it. That was my Teton Pass adventure from which I'll carry the scars for the rest of my life. Amazingly, it never occurred to me for a second to stop riding. I'm lucky to be alive and I'll never forget that.

Please donate to the LAF.