Friday, May 31, 2013
The last panorama of the month
I promise! And also a small but maybe meaningful discovery. On the road, I find myself caring quite a bit about the large things and the very small things. I don't seem to care at all for the medium things. I wonder if there are (musical) implications of this discovery. Do I compose only the small and big things and neglect the middle? Do I need to neglect the middle more and focus my music on the elements that interest me most? I dunno.
The last day of May
Here we are, on the last biking day of May. I did three half-centuries in a row, which in bowling parlance would be a turkey (though, since they're only HALF-centuries, it may be more akin to bowling a sparrow).
Most of today was boring, and all of today was hard. I'm exhausted and sore, but that's the name of the game here!
There was a snake in the road today. I don't know what kind it was, but I avoided it.
I saw a lot of wheat. And water was there at the end of the day.
Most of today was boring, and all of today was hard. I'm exhausted and sore, but that's the name of the game here!
There was a snake in the road today. I don't know what kind it was, but I avoided it.
I saw a lot of wheat. And water was there at the end of the day.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Back to back half-centuries!
So I put in another "good" day today (or rather, why I considered a good day before I left). I'm feeling stronger and slightly more capable. I'm also getting slightly tan. Here are some cool pictures from today.
Cross your fingers and follow my endomondo; tomorrow we may be in Oregon!
Cross your fingers and follow my endomondo; tomorrow we may be in Oregon!
My first two flat tires
So this cute dog watched me change two flat tires and then ran alongside me for almost 6 miles. Yay for the dog. Boo for the farmer that planted hundreds of pricker bushes to deter bikers.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Thoughts on week 1
Again, I'm a day late, but I've learned some interesting things on my first week of this trip. Let me tell you them:
>
• I stink at biking uphill. I just do. I really hope I get stronger as the trip continues, but as of right now, if it's more than a 6° grade, I'm walking.
>
> • I bleed easily. Ever see a cut or bruise on your body and wonder where it came from? Imagine that times 20.
>
> • Rain sucks all of your energy away. It seems obvious, but even a little bit of moisture on your body can ruin your day.
>
> • Surface matters. There is a MASSIVE difference between rock, sand, mud, dirt, sandy road, and real road. I spend a lot of my days trying to find a line that maximizes the quality of the road.
>
> • It's impossible to photograph what's going on around me. The pictures give you some kind of idea about what's going on, but they don't compare to seeing it with my eyes.
>
> • When you bike, you're going slow enough to see every little thing on and around the road. This can often be great, surprising, revelatory, or disgusting.
>
> • It's hard to be thoughtful after a day of biking.
>
> • I eat a lot of food. I need a lot of food. I want a lot of food.
>
> • Stretching and rolling my legs really has been helping! I haven't started the day with any serious pain at all, and I definitely consider that a victory. Here's hoping I can keep that up throughout the trip.
>
> • Miles don't correlate at all with exertion or exhaustion. My toughest day was 5/27, when I only did 36.12 miles. And the first 10 miles took 3 hours. And today (5/28), I did 60.43 miles almost without thinking anything about it.
>
> • I've realized that if I take as much ibuprofen as I need to feel good, I'll be destroyed by it by the end of my trip. Today is the first day I start limiting my ibuprofen intake.
>
> • Alia is amazing. I've never once felt hopeless, helpless, troubled, scared (except for that pitch black tunnel), or dead. I hope I don't annoy her too much, but my brain is definitely working differently out here. It's nice to get away from school.
>
> • There is a lot of nature. Another stupid statement, but being out here has made me acutely aware of how many hours I usually spend working in front of a computer monitor, a phone, a television, or some combination of the three.
>
> • The music from Twin Peaks is perfect.
>
> • I'm starting to appreciate the bigness of big Ives differently.
>
> • Microbreweries are starting to pop up everywhere—as are local farm-to-table places. It makes me happy, even if I'm eating fried food.
>
> • Fruit is amazing.
>
> • I need a lot more water than I thought. Right now, I'm drinking about 650ml an hour on the bike.
>
> • I miss Megan and everyone else like crazy. But I'm glad I'm out here. I still haven't learned the thing I set out to learn, but hopefully it comes. I'm starting to notice similarities between this trip and the more traditional "walkabout."
>
> • I've been getting some weird right-brain left-brain stuff happening when on the bike. Like sometimes it's not like I'm on the road, it's like I am the road. Or sometimes I think things like "I better get out and stretch his legs" or "it has 5 miles before I'll let it stop" or "I wonder what Hunter's thinking now." They're fleeting, but weird. I saw a TED talk once about someone who had a stroke and experienced a complete bifurcation between her left and right brain, and the experience she described are kind of familiar to what I'm getting out there.
>
> • Everything breaks. I've been duct taping things I never knew I could and fixing things that I'd never think would break. Oh, and my phone is cracked now :(
>
> • I still don't think of this as a "big" bike trip yet. I think it will become big once we get to Oregon. Hopefully that will happen in the next 3 or 4 days. Until then, stay thirsty compadres.
>
> <image.jpeg>
>
>
• I stink at biking uphill. I just do. I really hope I get stronger as the trip continues, but as of right now, if it's more than a 6° grade, I'm walking.
>
> • I bleed easily. Ever see a cut or bruise on your body and wonder where it came from? Imagine that times 20.
>
> • Rain sucks all of your energy away. It seems obvious, but even a little bit of moisture on your body can ruin your day.
>
> • Surface matters. There is a MASSIVE difference between rock, sand, mud, dirt, sandy road, and real road. I spend a lot of my days trying to find a line that maximizes the quality of the road.
>
> • It's impossible to photograph what's going on around me. The pictures give you some kind of idea about what's going on, but they don't compare to seeing it with my eyes.
>
> • When you bike, you're going slow enough to see every little thing on and around the road. This can often be great, surprising, revelatory, or disgusting.
>
> • It's hard to be thoughtful after a day of biking.
>
> • I eat a lot of food. I need a lot of food. I want a lot of food.
>
> • Stretching and rolling my legs really has been helping! I haven't started the day with any serious pain at all, and I definitely consider that a victory. Here's hoping I can keep that up throughout the trip.
>
> • Miles don't correlate at all with exertion or exhaustion. My toughest day was 5/27, when I only did 36.12 miles. And the first 10 miles took 3 hours. And today (5/28), I did 60.43 miles almost without thinking anything about it.
>
> • I've realized that if I take as much ibuprofen as I need to feel good, I'll be destroyed by it by the end of my trip. Today is the first day I start limiting my ibuprofen intake.
>
> • Alia is amazing. I've never once felt hopeless, helpless, troubled, scared (except for that pitch black tunnel), or dead. I hope I don't annoy her too much, but my brain is definitely working differently out here. It's nice to get away from school.
>
> • There is a lot of nature. Another stupid statement, but being out here has made me acutely aware of how many hours I usually spend working in front of a computer monitor, a phone, a television, or some combination of the three.
>
> • The music from Twin Peaks is perfect.
>
> • I'm starting to appreciate the bigness of big Ives differently.
>
> • Microbreweries are starting to pop up everywhere—as are local farm-to-table places. It makes me happy, even if I'm eating fried food.
>
> • Fruit is amazing.
>
> • I need a lot more water than I thought. Right now, I'm drinking about 650ml an hour on the bike.
>
> • I miss Megan and everyone else like crazy. But I'm glad I'm out here. I still haven't learned the thing I set out to learn, but hopefully it comes. I'm starting to notice similarities between this trip and the more traditional "walkabout."
>
> • I've been getting some weird right-brain left-brain stuff happening when on the bike. Like sometimes it's not like I'm on the road, it's like I am the road. Or sometimes I think things like "I better get out and stretch his legs" or "it has 5 miles before I'll let it stop" or "I wonder what Hunter's thinking now." They're fleeting, but weird. I saw a TED talk once about someone who had a stroke and experienced a complete bifurcation between her left and right brain, and the experience she described are kind of familiar to what I'm getting out there.
>
> • Everything breaks. I've been duct taping things I never knew I could and fixing things that I'd never think would break. Oh, and my phone is cracked now :(
>
> • I still don't think of this as a "big" bike trip yet. I think it will become big once we get to Oregon. Hopefully that will happen in the next 3 or 4 days. Until then, stay thirsty compadres.
>
> <image.jpeg>
>
Thoughts on week 1
Again, I'm a day late, but I've learned some interesting things on my first week of this trip. Let me tell you them:
• I stink at biking uphill. I just do. I really hope I get stronger as the trip continues, but as of right now, if it's more than a 6° grade, I'm walking.
• I bleed easily. Ever see a cut or bruise on your body and wonder where it came from? Imagine that times 20.
• Rain sucks all of your energy away. It seems obvious, but even a little bit of moisture on your body can ruin your day.
• Surface matters. There is a MASSIVE difference between rock, sand, mud, dirt, sandy road, and real road. I spend a lot of my days trying to find a line that maximizes the quality of the road.
• It's impossible to photograph what's going on around me. The pictures give you some kind of idea about what's going on, but they don't compare to seeing it with my eyes.
• When you bike, you're going slow enough to see every little thing on and around the road. This can often be great, surprising, revelatory, or disgusting.
• It's hard to be thoughtful after a day of biking.
• I eat a lot of food. I need a lot of food. I want a lot of food.
• Stretching and rolling my legs really has been helping! I haven't started the day with any serious pain at all, and I definitely consider that a victory. Here's hoping I can keep that up throughout the trip.
• Miles don't correlate at all with exertion or exhaustion. My toughest day was 5/27, when I only did 36.12 miles. And the first 10 miles took 3 hours. And today (5/28), I did 60.43 miles almost without thinking anything about it.
• I've realized that if I take as much ibuprofen as I need to feel good, I'll be destroyed by it by the end of my trip. Today is the first day I start limiting my ibuprofen intake.
• Alia is amazing. I've never once felt hopeless, helpless, troubled, scared (except for that pitch black tunnel), or dead. I hope I don't annoy her too much, but my brain is definitely working differently out here. It's nice to get away from school.
• There is a lot of nature. Another stupid statement, but being out here has made me acutely aware of how many hours I usually spend working in front of a computer monitor, a phone, a television, or some combination of the three.
• The music from Twin Peaks is perfect.
• I'm starting to appreciate the bigness of big Ives differently.
• Microbreweries are starting to pop up everywhere—as are local farm-to-table places. It makes me happy, even if I'm eating fried food.
• Fruit is amazing.
• I need a lot more water than I thought. Right now, I'm drinking about 650ml an hour on the bike.
• I miss Megan and everyone else like crazy. But I'm glad I'm out here. I still haven't learned the thing I set out to learn, but hopefully it comes. I'm starting to notice similarities between this trip and the more traditional "walkabout."
• I've been getting some weird right-brain left-brain stuff happening when on the bike. Like sometimes it's not like I'm on the road, it's like I am the road. Or sometimes I think things like "I better get out and stretch his legs" or "it has 5 miles before I'll let it stop" or "I wonder what Hunter's thinking now." They're fleeting, but weird. I saw a TED talk once about someone who had a stroke and experienced a complete bifurcation between her left and right brain, and the experience she described are kind of familiar to what I'm getting out there.
• Everything breaks. I've been duct taping things I never knew I could and fixing things that I'd never think would break. Oh, and my phone is cracked now :(
• I still don't think of this as a "big" bike trip yet. I think it will become big once we get to Oregon. Hopefully that will happen in the next 3 or 4 days. Until then, stay thirsty compadres.
• I stink at biking uphill. I just do. I really hope I get stronger as the trip continues, but as of right now, if it's more than a 6° grade, I'm walking.
• I bleed easily. Ever see a cut or bruise on your body and wonder where it came from? Imagine that times 20.
• Rain sucks all of your energy away. It seems obvious, but even a little bit of moisture on your body can ruin your day.
• Surface matters. There is a MASSIVE difference between rock, sand, mud, dirt, sandy road, and real road. I spend a lot of my days trying to find a line that maximizes the quality of the road.
• It's impossible to photograph what's going on around me. The pictures give you some kind of idea about what's going on, but they don't compare to seeing it with my eyes.
• When you bike, you're going slow enough to see every little thing on and around the road. This can often be great, surprising, revelatory, or disgusting.
• It's hard to be thoughtful after a day of biking.
• I eat a lot of food. I need a lot of food. I want a lot of food.
• Stretching and rolling my legs really has been helping! I haven't started the day with any serious pain at all, and I definitely consider that a victory. Here's hoping I can keep that up throughout the trip.
• Miles don't correlate at all with exertion or exhaustion. My toughest day was 5/27, when I only did 36.12 miles. And the first 10 miles took 3 hours. And today (5/28), I did 60.43 miles almost without thinking anything about it.
• I've realized that if I take as much ibuprofen as I need to feel good, I'll be destroyed by it by the end of my trip. Today is the first day I start limiting my ibuprofen intake.
• Alia is amazing. I've never once felt hopeless, helpless, troubled, scared (except for that pitch black tunnel), or dead. I hope I don't annoy her too much, but my brain is definitely working differently out here. It's nice to get away from school.
• There is a lot of nature. Another stupid statement, but being out here has made me acutely aware of how many hours I usually spend working in front of a computer monitor, a phone, a television, or some combination of the three.
• The music from Twin Peaks is perfect.
• I'm starting to appreciate the bigness of big Ives differently.
• Microbreweries are starting to pop up everywhere—as are local farm-to-table places. It makes me happy, even if I'm eating fried food.
• Fruit is amazing.
• I need a lot more water than I thought. Right now, I'm drinking about 650ml an hour on the bike.
• I miss Megan and everyone else like crazy. But I'm glad I'm out here. I still haven't learned the thing I set out to learn, but hopefully it comes. I'm starting to notice similarities between this trip and the more traditional "walkabout."
• I've been getting some weird right-brain left-brain stuff happening when on the bike. Like sometimes it's not like I'm on the road, it's like I am the road. Or sometimes I think things like "I better get out and stretch his legs" or "it has 5 miles before I'll let it stop" or "I wonder what Hunter's thinking now." They're fleeting, but weird. I saw a TED talk once about someone who had a stroke and experienced a complete bifurcation between her left and right brain, and the experience she described are kind of familiar to what I'm getting out there.
• Everything breaks. I've been duct taping things I never knew I could and fixing things that I'd never think would break. Oh, and my phone is cracked now :(
• I still don't think of this as a "big" bike trip yet. I think it will become big once we get to Oregon. Hopefully that will happen in the next 3 or 4 days. Until then, stay thirsty compadres.
Faces of week 1
So as a special treat, I'm taking a close-up picture RIGHT at the end of each day. Use these pictures as a guide for how taxing each excursion was (and to see how little my facial hair actually grows). And as the trip continues, you can see how my close ups change. Very exciting indeed!
Let's see just what I look like after biking on 5/21, 5/22, 5/23, 5/25, 5/26, and 5/27:
Let's see just what I look like after biking on 5/21, 5/22, 5/23, 5/25, 5/26, and 5/27:
Week 1 log
I'm a day late, but here are the stats from the first week:
Day 1 (5/21)
Neah Bay ~> Neah Bay
Leave 12:15pm, 49°F, misty
Arrive 4:00pm, 51°F, light rain
35.69mi
3h 25m pedaling on the bike
Pain at start: 0/10
Stayed at Hotel
White jacket, yellow gloves, gold shirt, black pants, REI socks
Lots of hills
Low traffic
Bad shoulder on the road
Day 2 (5/22)
Neah Bay ~> Joyce
Leave 10:25am, 52°F, sunny
Arrive 2:50pm, 55°F, sunny (rain in the middle)
35.01mi
3h 12m pedaling on bike
Pain at start: 0/10
Stayed at Walmart
Dog attack: 1
Lots of hills
Medium Traffic
OK Shoulder
Blue shirt, REI socks
Day 3 (5/23)
Joyce ~> Sequoim
Leave 10:28am, 58°F, sunny (rain in the middle)
Arrive 4:13pm, 59°F, wind & sun
40.31mi
3h 39m on bike
Some hills
Heavy traffic
Big shoulders
Hotel at Port Townsend
Pain at start: 0.5
Yellow shirt, REI socks, white jacket
Day 4 (5/24)
Rest Day in Port Townsend
Day 5 (5/25)
Sequoim ~> Seattle
Leave 9:16am, 53°F, rainy
Arrive 4:30pm, 60°F, sunny
43.46mi
4h 23m on bike
Pain at start: 0
Rode Ferry (Kingston ~> Edmonds)
Light Traffic
Walked a lot of hills
Good shoulder/sidewalk
Gold shirt, REI socks, white jacket, black pants
Day 6 (5/26)
Seattle ~> Exit 38 on I-90
Leave 10:14am, 53°F, light rain
Arrive 6:01pm, 58°F, rainy
44.94mi
4h 38m on bike
Pain at start: 1/10
Light to no traffic
Wide shoulders and dedicated pedestrian-only roads
Saw locations from Twin Peaks
Stayed at Walmart
Blue shirt, REI socks, black pants, orange jacket
Day 7 (5/27)
Exit 38 on I-90 ~> Easton
Leave 8:42am, 52°F, light rain
Arrive 4:30, 48°F, medium rain
Pain at start: 0/10
No traffic—95% pedestrian roads
Stayed at Hotel in Cle Elum
Incredible trail, à la secret garden.
Scary tunnel: 3.5 miles of pitch black (except for my little LED light)
Day 1 (5/21)
Neah Bay ~> Neah Bay
Leave 12:15pm, 49°F, misty
Arrive 4:00pm, 51°F, light rain
35.69mi
3h 25m pedaling on the bike
Pain at start: 0/10
Stayed at Hotel
White jacket, yellow gloves, gold shirt, black pants, REI socks
Lots of hills
Low traffic
Bad shoulder on the road
Day 2 (5/22)
Neah Bay ~> Joyce
Leave 10:25am, 52°F, sunny
Arrive 2:50pm, 55°F, sunny (rain in the middle)
35.01mi
3h 12m pedaling on bike
Pain at start: 0/10
Stayed at Walmart
Dog attack: 1
Lots of hills
Medium Traffic
OK Shoulder
Blue shirt, REI socks
Day 3 (5/23)
Joyce ~> Sequoim
Leave 10:28am, 58°F, sunny (rain in the middle)
Arrive 4:13pm, 59°F, wind & sun
40.31mi
3h 39m on bike
Some hills
Heavy traffic
Big shoulders
Hotel at Port Townsend
Pain at start: 0.5
Yellow shirt, REI socks, white jacket
Day 4 (5/24)
Rest Day in Port Townsend
Day 5 (5/25)
Sequoim ~> Seattle
Leave 9:16am, 53°F, rainy
Arrive 4:30pm, 60°F, sunny
43.46mi
4h 23m on bike
Pain at start: 0
Rode Ferry (Kingston ~> Edmonds)
Light Traffic
Walked a lot of hills
Good shoulder/sidewalk
Gold shirt, REI socks, white jacket, black pants
Day 6 (5/26)
Seattle ~> Exit 38 on I-90
Leave 10:14am, 53°F, light rain
Arrive 6:01pm, 58°F, rainy
44.94mi
4h 38m on bike
Pain at start: 1/10
Light to no traffic
Wide shoulders and dedicated pedestrian-only roads
Saw locations from Twin Peaks
Stayed at Walmart
Blue shirt, REI socks, black pants, orange jacket
Day 7 (5/27)
Exit 38 on I-90 ~> Easton
Leave 8:42am, 52°F, light rain
Arrive 4:30, 48°F, medium rain
Pain at start: 0/10
No traffic—95% pedestrian roads
Stayed at Hotel in Cle Elum
Incredible trail, à la secret garden.
Scary tunnel: 3.5 miles of pitch black (except for my little LED light)
A new ecosystem
It was cool to see the dry shrubs and brown of the desert start to battle it out with the giant trees and wet wildflowers of the Pacific Northwest. I have a map, so I know who is going to win eventually, but right now it feels like a fair fight.
A 60 mile day today!
And it feels good to be done. After the uphill, rocky, secret garden-esque day yesterday, it was nice to have a bit of a change. And today certainly was a change. I spent the morning on the interstate (I-90), the early-afternoon going through some adorable little towns, and the late-afternoon on an incredible road (hwy 481) that parallels a river. The roads were mostly flat or gradually downhill. There was no rain. There was only a little wind. The shoulders were clean and ample. And I think I'm getting a little stronger. In any event, this felt like the first "full" day I've put in since we came out here. If I could do every day like today, I'd feel pretty darn good about myself. I'm scratched up and bleeding all over, but it's ok.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Early pics from the 27th
I didn't get a ton of pictures because my phone got too wet and died about an hour in. Today was unbelievable. Rain all day. Snow on the ground in places. Uphill, gravel, mud, and complete isolation from the outside world. I was three hours into the ride before I saw a person.
I was on the Iron Horse trail all day. It's a no-motor alternative to I-90. Unbelievable. And the piece of resistance: 30 minutes through an abandoned train tunnel, with only my headlight to guide me. It was pretty terrifying but at the same time very exciting.
So I'm tired. Sore. Miserable. And only did 35 miles today. But this is what I signed up for!
I was on the Iron Horse trail all day. It's a no-motor alternative to I-90. Unbelievable. And the piece of resistance: 30 minutes through an abandoned train tunnel, with only my headlight to guide me. It was pretty terrifying but at the same time very exciting.
So I'm tired. Sore. Miserable. And only did 35 miles today. But this is what I signed up for!
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Some other things
Including a giant log, an ooooold train, and Twede's cafe, formerly the Twin Peaks RR Diner, where cherry pies go when they die. These little Washington towns are completely incredible. I'm going to miss them when they're gone.
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