Cycling across the U.S.A

Welcome to my blog

This blog is an eclectic road journal, my account, with pictures and video, of the 30th Anniversary Cross-Country bike trip organized by Adventure Cycling. Forty-one riders started in Seattle on June 22, 2006, and ended in Washington, DC, on August 8. Along the way, we rode through gloriously scenic mountains, made new friends, and experienced directly how vast and diverse our country really is. Sadly, we also had tragedy when one of our group was killed in a car accident, and faced brutally difficult riding in record high temperatures in parts of South Dakota. I wrote the blog so that I could keep track of the long days we spent on our bikes. As someone who turned 70 last January, I wanted to show that older persons can still engage in vigorous activities. And as a retired professional journlist, I wrote the daily accounts for fun and because I had another opportunity to tell good stories. I hope readers will have as much fun reading this journal as I had writing it.

Start from the first entry

Coverage of the final arrival

Click here for the article

Click here to read the pre-ride coverage

End of the long, long road

One happy group of adventure cyclists.

3,300 miles later, here they are!

What Dr. Dave has Learned

On a seven-week bicycle trip across the United States, we all learned a lot about ourselves, our situations, and our colleagues. Here's what our homespun Texas philosopher, cattle man, rodeo rider, and family doctor David Ramsey says he learned.

David Ramsey, a wiseman on two wheels.

The smoother the pavement, the shorter the distance you'll be on it.

Don't try to talk during climbs, especially to women, unless you want to be embarrassed.

In July, nothing ever really dries out in the Midwest.

When you live out of a dufflebag, the things you really need are always on the bottom.

Age is a relatively minor feature compared to mindset.

Physical appearances have little to do with physical abilities.

You don't have to have ice in your water when you are really thirsty.

Real friends help you even when you say you don't need it.

First impressions of people are often wrong, though not always.

Things hurt a lot worse when you focus on them.

You can go to sleep while sweating profusely.

Awfully big projects can be accomplished by just daily working at the goal.

The Toughest Day

Day 46, August 5
Bedford, PA, to Gettysburg, PA
100 miles
Cumulative: 3234

Today's ride, by common consent, was the toughest of the entire cross-country trip. "Nothing else came close," said Peter Maron, one of the stronger riders in our group. The hills were very long and steep -- and there were very many of them. Isabel Zsohar's GPS showed that everyone climbed about 7200 feet during the day. You would think that after seven weeks of riding that everyone would be in excellent physical condition, and they are. But even strong riders complained of stiffness and sore muscles after the grueling ride. I decided that the route was not designed for recumbent bikes ridden by older people and rode the luggage truck. Earl Wooten, 68, accompanied me. Martin Berndt, 73, upheld the honor of the three geezers on the trip by riding the entire distance. As far as I can figure, most of the male riders on this trip are in their 40s and 50s, with a couple in their early 60s. Then there's a big jump in years to Earl, Martin and me.

Three tough old salts: Bill Cook, Martin Berndt and Earl Wooten.

We're almost to the end of this enormous journey. In a sense, it seems like just yesterday when we left Seattle. At the same time, it's sometimes hard to remember what the early sections of the ride were like since so much has happened since. We've travelled 3300 miles, experienced tragedy along the way, suffered through record heat waves, and climbed hills that totalled 18 miles of vertical ascent. We've ridden in glorious cool mornings with fog in the valleys, seen spectacular scenery, and we've watched a romance blossom. I've spun my cranks about 1.5 million times. Despite some rough spots along the way, the ride for me has been a satisfying experience, demonstrating to myself that I can still do strenuous physical activities. It's been a way like no other to see how gigantic and diverse our nation really is. It's been a chance to get to know a group of fascinating people who are very different in most respects except for their love of biking. I can honestly say that at no point on the trip did I ever say to myself, I wish I'd stayed home. As Rachel Ginsburg put it, "It's been a bad novel that I had to read to the end. I couldn't put it down." I have not lost my enthusiasm for bike touring. For the future, though, I think I'll leave the old tent at home and check into motels along the way.

Doing this blog has been a special pleasure. It's been fun to write a little after being away from the game for several years, and it's rewarding to hear favorable comments from those who've read it. It's also been a real pain to get the stuff written after a long day on the bike when you are so tired that you can barely stay awake. And it's been hard to find Internet connections along the way. In the rural west, you get a blank stare if you ask if wi-fi is available. "What's that?" Often I had to revert to dial-up telephone connections to get through. I've sat in restaurant booths and church basements with my IBM T41 laptop plugged into a telephone line. One camp operator declined to let me into her combination home and office (OK, it was a double-wide) to use her phone, but she did run a phone cable out her kitchen window so I could connect on her porch. At one elementary school the kindly principal unplugged his laptop so I could tap into his high-speed line.

I've located wireless connections that just happened to be available when I needed them and logged on to some unknown person's system to transmit. I've sat in Starbucks and other coffee places for hours on layover days so I could use their wireless systems. (Right now, I'm in The Spot coffee house and bookstore in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.)

I sent text directly to the blog software. Pictures and video were another matter. Sometimes I delayed posting an item until I could shoot a picture or get one from another rider. I edited stills in Adobe Photoshop and then sent them by email to Seamus O'Connor, the able summer intern in McClatchy Newspapers' Washington bureau who kept the blog running every day. I processed the video on my computer with Adobe's Premier Pro editor, but transmitting it required a high-speed connection. Video files were uploaded it to a server in Germany designed for sharing long files. Seamus picked the video files off the German server and mounted them on the blog. Most of the video, by the way, was shot with a simple Sony digital point-and-shoot camera at the high-resolution setting and edited in Premier Pro. A couple of longer files were shot with a small digital video camera.

On Tuesday, after two short, 50-mile days, we'll be in Washington. We'll enter the city as a group for a final photo shoot in front of the Lincoln Memorial. We plan to arrive at the memorial right at noon. Than we'll pick up our luggage and go our separate ways. It will have been a great run.

Bikes Then and Now

To the untrained eye, bikes today aren't much different from their counterparts of thirty years ago. Closer examination, however, shows significant differences from the vehicles ridden during BikeCentennial when thousands pedaled across the continent to celebrate the nation's 200th anniversary.

Frame materials, for example, have changed dramatically. In 1976, everyone rode a bike with a steel frame. Steel is still an excellent choice for a touring bike, but now some riders mount bikes made of lightweight aluminum, and a few are constructed of super-expensive carbon fiber or titanium.

Drive trains have changed, too. In 1976, most bikes had ten speeds. The cassette in back had five cogs while the cranks mounted two chainrings. Now most upscale bikes have nine cogs on the cassette on the rear wheel and two or three chainrings in front, giving up to 27 speeds to choose from. With nine cogs in the same space that used to have five, the chain has to be made much narrower in order to fit.

Shoes and pedals are entirely different. Thirty years ago, riders fastened their shoes to the pedals with leather straps. Now bike shoes have special cleats on the soles that mate to fancy pedals. When a rider starts off, he or she snaps the shoes to the pedals, locking them together. To release, a rider simply twitches a heel out.

Back then, helmets were not an issue. No one wore them. Now they are required on most major organized rides. When one of our riders was hit by a car, his helmet was split in the accident. He escaped serious injury. Without a helmet, he probably would have suffered a major head injury.

In 1976, no one had a speedometer on a bike. A few may have had an odometer that advanced as a pin on the bike wheel hit the odometer unit every revolution. Now everyone has an electronic computer that keeps track of distance by noting every time a magnet on the wheel passes a sensor. A good computer will show speed, distance, average speed, elapsed time, and, in some cases, the revolutions per minute of the crank.

More advanced GPS units are available, too. They track at least three satellites in space in order to calculate the bike's position on the earth, usually within about 15 feet. A simple GPS unit can also calculate altitude, speed, and project time, bearing, and distance to a point down the road. More expensive models show your progress across a map of the area. My simple GPS unit weighs two ounces and cost less than $140.

Larry Black, owner of Mt. Airy Bicycles in Maryland, an expert in bike history, says that in years past when a rider wanted to know how hard he or she was working, they'd figure out heart rate by placing a finger on an artery on the neck and count pulses over a certain period of time. Now some riders wear a chest strap that radios heartbeats to a monitor on the handlebars. The heart rate monitor can be a useful safety device. During the very hot days riding in South Dakota, my heart rate shot up more than 20 beats a minute over my usual pace, a sure sign that I was becoming dehydrated.

Most long-distance riders still carry water bottles, but now they can also drink from hydration bladders such as a Camelback. My bladder is in a bag attached the the back of my seat. A hose from the bladder clips to my jersey. When I want to drink, I bite the mouthpiece and suck. The device is extremely convenient.

Of course, there were no recumbent bikes in 1976, either. Some things, however, don't change. You still have to pedal hard to make it all the way across the nation.

UAL Flight 93 Memorial

Day 45, August 4
Confluence, PA to Bedford, PA
81 miles
Cumulative: 3134

We started today's ride with a 30-mile run on the same trail we rode yesterday. The difference was, today it was raining, a nice cool gentle rain that soaked the limestone trail. Splash from our wheels covered all of us and our bikes with a coating of fine gray mud. By late morning, though, the sun was out and we climbed more of Pennsylvania's steep hills.

At the 56-mile mark, we stopped at the temporary memorial to UAL 93, which tragically crashed there in a field. Then most of the riders continued on to climb to the summit of the Allegheny Mountains, 2906 feet high. Then they plunged down a long 9-per-cent grade on US 30 that allowed high speeds for the very brave. Several riders topped 40 mph, but Jack Turner assumed a racer's tuck, drafted a pickup truck down the early part of the descent, then slipped past the truck. When he finally slowed down at the bottom, his computer said he'd hit 65.7 mph. Jack, in his late 50s, does know what he's doing on a bike. Though he has a doctorate in pschology and wrote software for major electronic firms including IBM and Siemens, for the past several years up to last year, he worked as a mechanic for one of the major teams during the Tour de France.

The memorial to the victims of United flight 93.

Our campground in Bedford is a block from the big Cannondale bike factory. Ron Marks stopped in to ask if someone could look at his bike's drive train after the muddy ride. Though he's riding a competitor's bike, a Co-Motion, the Cannondale crew stripped off the chain, washed it in solvent, cleaned the derailleur and cassette, lubricated everything, and checked all the bike's adjustments. They refused to accept any money. That's what you call good PR.

A long cool trail

Day 44, August 3
Washington, PA to Confluence, PA
90 Miles
Cumulative: 3053

Today's weather was hot, and the hills were very steep. For the first time on the cross-country ride, I had to walk my bike up a hill. But once we reached the 37-mile mark, we turned onto a lovely trail that took us to the end of the day. The trail was through a forested area along the beautiful Youghiogheny river filled with kayakers, rafters, and fishermen. We had a cool ride.

Pennsylvania's Youghiogheny River.

Martin's Big Birthday

When our oldest rider, Martin Berndt, turned 73 on July 29, the celebration lasted all day. He awoke to find his bicycle decorated with a Happy Birthday banner and a balloon tied to the seat. Hillary Capers presented him with a Superman button.

Martin's real surprise came after the day's ride. After the end of the day's map meeting, Martin was called to come forward. Ride leader Ryan Kaplan announced that Martin's daughter Martha had been contacting him by mail and phone to make a special celebration. She had shipped a case of Argentine Malbec wine to Missoula, and it had been in the luggage truck ever since. She had also coordinated with a local caterer to make a four-layer cake. When Martin tried to blow the candles out, he couldn't. They were the kind that relight after a blow.

Happy Birthday, Martin! Good luck with those candles...

The card from his two daughters, son, and son-in-law read:
"Having you as our Daddy has brought us all so much happiness! We are so blessed! We are all so happy to see you still able to enjoy your life and your health. May your health and happiness continue to bless you for many more years."

Martin was thrilled. "That birthway was memorable," he beamed. "I'll remember it to my dying day."

Travelling with Children

Many of us have terrible memories of travelling with children. Yet there are three parents on the trip with their daughters, and one mother rode with her son in Montana for a brief two days. Remarkably, both parents and offspring seem to be doing very well together. Of course, the kids are not really children. Hillary Capers, who is travelling with her father, is 34 years old, Jorie Messman is 22, and Lindsay Selin is a mature 18.

Jorie and Roger Messman.

Jorie and her father, Roger, 55, have been riding together for several years. They started with week-long RAGBRAI (Register's Annual Great Ride Around Iowa). Last summer, Jorie, her father, and her brother did a self-supported ride across the country. After that long trip, Jorie says, "I feel so much closer to my Dad." Looking ahead, she says, "I hope I can get my kids to do this with me someday. I've learned more on these last two summer rides than in my four years of college." She expects to follow her mother, who teaches fifth grade, and her father, who teaches high school math. 

Judy and Lindsay Selin.

Judy Selin, 45, says that "we always wanted to ride cross country as a family." After all, she and her husband Stephen met while leading bike tours, and they made many shorter rides over the years with Lindsay and her younger sister. But when Lindsay graduated from high school in June, "we realized we'd missed the opportunity to do it all together." The others were booked up for the summer, and Lindsay said that if they didn't go this year "I'll never get to do it" with her mother. Judy agreed to leave the others behind and go. Lindsay will attend Middlebury College in Vermont in the fall. She's an accomplished viola player who has soloed with the Vermont Young Orchestra.

Hillary and Bud.

When Hillary decided she wanted to ride cross-country, she asked her father, Edward (but who goes by Bud) to go along. "There are not a lot of things you can do with a parent," she says. Bud. 62, was not convinced. "I said I wasn't interested," he says, but his wife persuaded him to make the effort. "I've been married 37 years," he says, "and I know very well how to say, 'yes, dear.'" As it turned out, Hillary and rider Matthew Stobbart have become close friends on the trip. Bud and Hillary have invited Matt to spend ten days with their family in New Jersey after the trip is over to become better acquainted.

Monica Leo's son Seth, 25, who works in Griggs, Idaho, joined his mother for two days of riding in Montana. Monica says the most magical moment in the trip came one morning when she was following Seth through a beautiful river valley framed by mountains. Suddenly, she recalls, he raised his arms to the sky in an expression of pure joy. She, near tears, wanted to capture the moment with her camera, and she asked Seth to recreate the scene. But when she was ready with her camera, he rode ahead, stood up on his bike, yanked his pants down, and mooned his mother. "That's Seth," she shrugged. Kids, after all, will be kids.