Thursday, June 27, 2013

In five days…

I will pack up the essentials of life on this earth, strap them to my bicycle, and crank my way over plains, mountain ranges, rolling hills, deserts, forests, and small-town America, to, Lord-willing, eventually arrive somewhere in the state of Maine. Here I would insert some blasĂ© comment about ohmygosh how equally ecstatic and terrified I am, however, I don't think the reality has hit quite yet, so in all honesty... Sure, I'm excited. Somewhat frightened. A little bit doubting myself. But altogether not really quite able to comprehend the magnitude of adventure everyone around me sees in this. 
Some FAQ's for my sprawling army of friends and acquaintances: 
"Are you going alone?" You ask.
No. Sort of. Not really? I don't have dedicated riding buddies. I am starting out with a couple from Vancouver, and may split off to join other pedal-pushers I meet on the road, depending on route and pace differences. 
"Are you bringing a gun?" You ask.
No. I am not. I am bringing pepper spray.
"How long will it take you?" You ask.
I don't know. People average about 10 weeks to complete trips like this.
"Do you have sponsors?" You ask.
No. This "vacation" is being paid in blood, sweat, and tears of laughter courtesy of my awesome employer, Grace Harbor Farms. Check them out. They have great skin care products. And if you're local, OH BOY, their kefir is to die for.
"Are you riding for a cause?" You ask.
Well... Wisdom, experience, basking in the Lord's beautiful creation, and thunder thighs all sound like pretty good, albeit a little selfish, causes to me. 
"What's your route?" You ask. 
Right now? Washington, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Nebraska... What state comes after Nebraska?...
"What will you eat? Where will you sleep? How will you not get killed?"
Food. My tent. America. 
For real, though, I've got a mini stove and a small saddlebag dedicated entirely to my favorite pastime. Sometimes necessity will call for gas station mini mart dregs, but even then, they usually sell trail mix and old apples. I'm bringing along a wee little bright yellow tent, a sleeping bag, and a pillow. I will camp in state parks, RV resorts, and friendly people's backyards. Occasionally my sore butt and stench may entice me into paying for a cheap motel. 
As for not getting shot/mugged/raped/run off the road... Sure, those are valid and real concerns, and I always appreciate your prayers. But... Danger is always just the next town over, isn't it?

I also have a page over at 


P.S. I'm always open to being sponsored... I mean, if you insist, I'll let you give me money. 

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