August 6, 2007
Now that I’m carrying the load on the Crazy Guy On A Bike journal that Steve and I were sharing, I’ve only had time to update over there. It’s kind of hard to keep up with two blogs at the same time. So, at least for a little while, I’m going to be exclusively updating at the Crazy Guy On A Bike blog.
I think I can be in Chicago by Friday night. This makes me very, very excited. Currently in: Fremont, OH
August 3, 2007
So I’ve spent the past couple of days tooling around Pittsburgh recooperating after 8 straight days of cycling. Also, my bike needed serious attention after all of the abuse I’ve heaped on it for the past week. Steve and I went in search of the perfect bike shop, and shock of shocks, we found it in Iron City Bike. Instead of telling us it would take a week to look at our bikes, they started working on them right away, doing repairs that we didn’t even know we had. On top of that, they were very reasonably priced for the work they did. The experience reminded me that not all bike shops are created equal.
On Thursday, I cleaned pretty much everything that I currently have in my possession. Washed clothes, cleaned and patched my panniers, washed my tent, cleaned my shoes. Thankfully, I no longer smell like garbage. It has been so nice to return to a civilized lifestyle, if only fleetingly. Steve’s friend Mike and his girlfriend Brandy were extremely generous to offer up a place to stay for a couple of days.
I also got to see a bit of Downtown Pittsburgh as well as the surrounding environs. There was some nice architecture and I quite enjoyed the numerous bridges across the three rivers. I’ve got some pictures that I will post later, but the computer that I am on in East Palestine, OH (YES, THAT’S RIGHT, OHIO!) won’t give me access to the USB port.
On a somewhat less jubilant note, Steve has had to abandon the trip for a little while at least as he has other matters to attend to elsewhere that require his attention. So, I’m currently riding solo, which takes some getting used to. It will be a good chance to rely completely on my decision-making process, which can be alternately frustrating and empowering. Anway, I’m hoping that we will be able to meet back up in Chicago and continue the journey westward.
As ever, more later.
August 2, 2007
We were ambitious today. The day began early at 6:30 AM. I rode down to a bike shop whose owner I had spoken to the night before. He said he’d be there at 7:00 AM to work on other bikes and would be able to look at mine. Unfortunately, his wife was sick and so he had to work at the bed and breakfast that was connected with the bike shop, so he couldn’t look at my bike. He was able to sell me a chain, however, which I took back to camp and installed. This solved the skipping problem, but it was still rubbing against parts.
Steve and I planned to start the day with the intention of biking 100 miles to Pittsburgh along the Great Allegheny Passage, which is a trail for bikes that was built upon previously established rail lines. It wends its way along the Allegheny under a tree canopy and never rises above a 3% grade. If we are ever going to do a century, it would be today. Our previous high mark for the day had been somewhere around 65 miles.
The trail was beautiful and the beginning of the day was one of my favorite parts of the trip so far. In honor of the rail trail, I’ve posted a song about a railroad bandit.
My favorite part of this song is the movement of the guitar. I’m not sure if it’s an original line because I’ve heard it in other songs, but it fits Hobart perfectly. Hear more Hobart Smith, an amazing folk artist, here.
We made 25 miles pretty easily with our iPods blaring in our ears. By 50 miles, we were starving and we stopped at (where else?) a Wendy’s for sandwiches and frosties. It began heating up at that point and the day began to grow long.
By mile 75, we had to stop every 30-45 minutes for water and food breaks. Although the terrain was mild, the shear mileage was much beyond what either of us were accustomed to. If there wasn’t shade and flat terrain, I don’t know if we could have made it. Around mile 90, we were spit out into the urban degradation that is McKeesport, PA.
The trail abruptly ended at some railroad tracks and we didn’t really know what to do. I asked a couple how to get to Pittsburgh and they gave us directions along a highway. We risked life and limb riding along 837 North into the city. Easily the worst road for biking we’ve run into in a long time. It was almost as if they designed it in such a way that would present obstacles for cyclists even though we saw a sign that said “Share the Road”. We survived and around the 99 mile mark for the day we saw the sign we’d been looking for:
After a treacherous ride up a steep hill, we arrive at Steve’s friends’ apartment. My cyclometer read as follows:
We’re taking a much needed furlough in Pittsburgh for a couple of days. We’ll be back on the road headed for Ohio on Friday morning.
August 1, 2007
We woke up in Ron’s yard around 6:15 AM and were able to start riding around 7:00 AM. It takes me a lot longer to pack everything up than I thought it would. At this point, my bags have the smell of old garbage because I have no way of drying my clothes or towel before packing them. Consequently, they stew inside all day creating new and interesting life forms. Note to self: clean them in Pittsburgh. We accomplish a good deal of riding for the day up and down hills and then up a mountain before we finally arrive at this green sign.
This sign is what every touring cyclist dreams of seeing. It represents air condition and the internet and getting off of the saddle and into relatively comfortable chairs. I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to the woman who was studying for some kind of test next to me at the computer terminal: I know that I smell. If you were to ride a bike for eight hours of a summer’s day and did not have the benefit of a shower, I believe you, too, would emit something like the odor of rank intermingled sweat and sunscreen. Forgive my olfactory trespasses and please accept this humblest of apologies.
Now then. We spent a couple of hours in the library and then rode into Somerset proper, a town we had been dreaming about the entire day as we were riding up the endless hills. We imagined the streets paved with gold, a bike shop on every corner, and a delicious and cheap diner with great fries. Alas, Somerset was like a lot of other small Pennsylvania towns we passed through. A historic courthouse. A town square. And, then a strip mall with corporate chains not far from the center of town.
In fact, they are not unlike any small town in South Carolina. It is somewhat surreal to hear contemporary Christian radio being piped in at Wendy’s and to see Rebel flag bumper stickers and T-Shirts in Pennsylvania. We could just as well be in the Appalachians of North Carolina. I keep expecting to hear southern accents and am still somewhat perplexed by the accents I hear.
We ended up at Wendy’s (which we seem to be doing a lot) where I had a processed chicken sandwich. We then went to a DQ where I had the first Blizzard I believe I’ve ever had. How did I grow up in the South and never go to a Dairy Queen? As with most places I go, people struck up conversations about the trip. A lot usually have their own stories of road trips across the country. It’s great because you never really feel isolated from people because so many are curious.
In spite of our afternoon lethargy after a hard ride in the morning and the drowsiness caused by fat-laden foods, we were able to get on our bikes and ride a somewhat easy 10 miles to Rockwood, PA, home of Rockwood Mill Shoppes and Opera House. We stayed at a very cool place called Husky Haven Campground. The owner, Barry, let us charge our electronics and hang out on the porch swing at his guest house. Later, I fell soundly asleep to the sound of a brisk little creek nearby.
July 30, 2007
Day #6
So I’ve been recounting how many obstacles have presented themselves so far over the course of the trip, but I have not given as much time to the kindness of the strangers I’ve met along the way. Today I woke up groggy eyed after a torrential thunderstorm in Cowan’s Gap State Park and was treated to a breakfast of cereal, fresh fruit, eggs, donuts, and orange juice by Randy, a guy camping with his kids across the way.
I haven’t been using my audio recorder very much for various reasons. It’s hard to get it out of the bags and start recording quickly. So, unfortunately, I’m going to have to send it home. I did make one recording in the middle of the night of the thunderstorm last night. I sound tired and I’m not particularly articulate, but it’s 2:30 AM and raining.
Listen here: Matt and the Thunderstorm
Highlight: A guy who hitch-hiked across the country in the summer of ’71 bought me lunch at Wendy’s complete with a large frosty.
Lowlight: My chain has become bent somehow and now skips every sixth revolution or so. I only have one gear that mostly doesn’t skip. I must find a bicycle shop soon.
Buy the single at Drag City’s website.
July 28, 2007
So I actually spent a fair amount of time at the library today and was able to update the map. I’ve inputted each place that we’ve stayed along the way. There is a reassuringly Western bent to our route.
July 28, 2007
So it’s hard for me to summarize the trip by days. Each day feels like the length of two. At the end of each day, the place where you began that morning feels extremely distant even though it’s only 60 miles away, an hour’s drive. I’m beginning to settle into the itinerant lifestyle, though it’s definitely been a challenge. There is inevitably a different obstacle each day. One day it could be a narrow or non-existent shoulder with cars whizzing by at high speeds three feet away. Or, like today, it could be that your rear rack that is holding everything together falls off creating a hole in your previously water-proof panniers. Each time I’ve been able to fix the problem (thank God I had extra screws and duct tape), but it’s frustrating in the moment. After such a large mishap, the smallest thing, such as accidentally bumping my head on my seat while repairing my bike, will send me cursing at the top of my lungs (scaring Steve and probably a few nearby houses). It would be funny if it weren’t so frustrating. Today I was trying to think of a cliched quote that I could only paraphrase. I found it on Google just now:
The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy. – Martin Luther King, Jr.
On the brighter and more balanced side, the people (for the most part) that we’ve met along the way have been more than kind. Everyone we meet asks where we started and where we’re going and seem genuinely interested in what we’re up to. Today after we had just finished climbing what we thought was a mountain, we stopped to get water out of a pump from a stern lady with an accent I’ve never heard. I asked her the name of the mountain we had just finished climbing and she squinted at me as if to see if I were drunk and said that it was a valley. I almost cried. Steve asked her if the mountain that we’re going to be climbing later is big and she cut him off, “Big?!! Is it big?!!” She then called to her husband “Boo! Come out here!” as if we were not to take her word for it that it was big, but that no less an authority as her husband would tell us that it was big. He stumbled out of his trailer and his wife told him that we were headed to Seattle and he let out this inimitable “Gaaawwwwd” and I nodded my as if to say “Indeed”.
Finding accommodations has been a challenge. On the second night, we were grasping at straws trying to find a place to stay until a gentleman approached us while we were eating sandwiches outside of a grocery store and asked where we were from and where we were going. He asked if we needed a place to stay and shower and we happily took him up on the offer. When his wife arrived home, she insisted that we sleep in the two guest bedrooms. We thanked them again and again for their kindness, because you just don’t usually expect such generosity from perfect strangers and because after riding so hard all day, such kindnesses are not taken for granted.
Last night, Steve and I “guerilla” camped in a grassy area behind a playground in East Berlin, PA. It was the first time that we’ve done it, so we were both a little jumpy. We kept hearing this cracking noise that we couldn’t locate (was it coming from the cemetary six feet away, from the woods right beside us, or from the road?).
I thought of Blair Witch. At 2 AM I hear a horn on a truck play “Dixie” nearby and some people talking and I just know some drunk townies are going to come over and start messing with us. I only got about 3 or 4 hours sleep.
What else?
Everything feels more vibrant after riding 60 miles on a bike. A Whopper and fries is like manna from heaven. You’ve never showered until you’ve showered after 60 miles of riding in the sun and sloughed off a mixture of skin, sweat, sunscreen, road grime, and the occasional unfortunate insect. Nothing is taken for granted.
Wicked Little Town (Hedwig Version) – Hedwig and the Angry Inch
In honor of the horror of a night in East Berlin, I’ve provided Wicked Little Town (Hedwig version) from Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Definitely my favorite song from one of the few musicals that I enjoy. Buy the soundtrack here to the movie here, or the stage version here, or the DVD of the movie here. Or, check your local theatrical listings to see if it’s playing in your area.
July 27, 2007
Currently in: a library in Columbia, PA
I’ll post more later, just wanted to drop a line and some pictures of Amish country.
July 25, 2007
So, I’m currently at the Speer Library on the leafy campus of Princeton University in Princeton, NJ. It is the beginning of Day #2 of the trip. Here’s a breakdown of the Day #0 and Day #1.
Day #0. Flew to New York. Flight delayed into LaGuardia. It was raining and the skies were existential grey. Took a bus and the 2-3 into the city. Didn’t get a chance to see much of the city. A little bit of Harlem from the bus window. Everyone seems like a character in New York. One guy was gesticulating wildly, pointing this way and that, trying to get his message across to a lady whose knees were slightly bent, her back slightly hunched, her eyes glazed. Arrived at the Eastern Parkway station in Prospect Heights(?) Brooklyn. Met Steve. Carried luggage back to his friends apartments. Met friends who were exceedingly nice. Went to the UPS store to pick-up my bike. Assembled bike on a sidewalk in Prospect Park in the misting rain. Went to get sushi with Sarah. Had a delicious and cheap brownie at a bakery afterward. Saw her apartment and accepted as gifts two issues of Oxford American Magazine to read on the trip as well as George Orwell’s Portrait of An Artist as a Young Man. Went back to the apartment to finish re-assembling my bike.
Day #1. The day dawned bright. Had to run to a hardware store to pick up a wrench to tighten down my pedals. My front derailleur was acting up, but it finally started working properly, saving us a trip to a bicycle shop. Rode across the Brooklyn Bridge and kept thinking about how I could never have predicted four years ago when I visited New York for the first time that I would ride across the Brooklyn Bridge on a loaded bike on my way to Seattle, WA. Took lots of pictures. Felt like a foreign tourist. Rode through the financial district in Lower Manhattan. Prayed that I would not fall under the wheels of the dump truck and bus that flanked our sides. (Don’t worry, Mom, I had it under control) Arrived at the South Ferry. Played some blues riffs on my ukulele (I think it was worth it to bring it). Rode the ferry to Atlantic Highlands. Dragged our bikes into the sand to dip our wheels into the Atlantic Ocean.
This portion of Jersey is less industrial than most. We had a relatively pleasant most of Jersey and the heat wasn’t too oppressive. Stayed with John, Abel, Zach and his wife who Steve found on couchsurfing.com. They made us a fantastic Mexican dinner complete with home-made tortillas. It was a great way to spend the night of our first day on the road. If only every day goes as smoothly as this…
July 17, 2007
Jessica shipped my bike to New York City via UPS yesterday. You know it’s getting close to departure when you start shipping stuff.
I apologize for not being able to write more. I’ve been working mostly non-stop for the past ten days until today. I’m now off to Canada for a camping trip with Jessica.
It has been a goal of mine from the beginning to raise money for a charitable organization during the course of the ride. I’ll write more about this later, but the organization I’ve chosen to support is Room to Read. It’s a non-profit that builds libraries, donates books, and funds scholarships in Asia (Nepal, Vietnam, Cambodia, India). They’re doing good work, please visit their website.
