Why? I'll tell you why.

I just got off the red eye flight from San Francisco. What took me and a bike 66 days took a pilot and a plane less than 5 hours. The flight cost me around 250 dollars which is a small fraction of the total cost of the bike trip. It was rather comfortable and I was even able to sleep most of the way. If something is faster, easier, and cheaper, why would anyone do anything else? Well, I'm not going to tell you why anyone would do something else but, I will tell you why I did.

If you go back to my blog post from May titled “I'm in Love!” you may remember a fellow rider named Dick. He told me something that I will never forget.

It is not what you do, it is why you do it.

This got me thinking more about why I was on this bike ride or why I do anything that I do. Thousands of people already can, and hundreds more each year will be able to say that they have ridden their bike across the United States. But, that is the what. This is the same for everyone. We all know what we do but, very few know why they do it.

The why is not the same for everyone. The why is much more difficult to answer. It gets more personal and makes you think, which is why it is seldom even asked. Knowing why is important. It gives a purpose, a cause, or a belief. Even if you cannot immediately figure out why, it is important to think about it until you do.

Before I met Dick in White Hall, Virginia I was already thinking about why. I just wasn't thinking about it as much. Before the bike trip started I was thinking about it. What drove me to do it? What inspired me? If I had no inspiration, I would not have taken the trip. Certain people, their actions, and in particular, what they have written about their actions, provided me with inspiration. Also, the inspiration did more than get me to go on this adventure. It kept me going on it and makes me want to do more in the future.

Right around the beginning of 2010, I was contemplating the idea of the bike ride. This summer would be an ideal time to do it. I began reading non-fiction travel books and came across Into Thin Air by Jon Krakauer. After finishing the book, I had no desire to go climb Mount Everest but, I felt I could relate to the men and women who have been on that mountain. We were both looking for adventure. I also have noticed that some people think it is crazy or irresponsible or a waste of time to go on an adventure. To climb Everest costs around $70,000 and according the to account of Krakauer, the climbers are in complete misery the entire time. I wondered, why would someone want to do such a thing?

After a brief search on the internet, I had found my answer. George Leigh Mallory answered it in 1922. He was the first to summit the highest mountain in the world and so was the first to have to answer the question,”Why?”

The first question which you will ask and which I must try to answer is this, 'What is the use of climbing Mount Everest ?' and my answer must at once be, 'It is no use'. There is not the slightest prospect of any gain whatsoever. Oh, we may learn a little about the behavior of the human body at high altitudes, and possibly medical men may turn our observation to some account for the purposes of aviation. But otherwise nothing will come of it. We shall not bring back a single bit of gold or silver, not a gem, nor any coal or iron. We shall not find a single foot of earth that can be planted with crops to raise food. It's no use. So, if you cannot understand that there is something in man which responds to the challenge of this mountain and goes out to meet it, that the struggle is the struggle of life itself upward and forever upward, then you won't see why we go. What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life. We do not live to eat and make money. We eat and make money to be able to enjoy life. That is what life means and what life is for. 

It was February when I read this. It was then that I knew I must go on my bike ride. The bike ride is also no use. I will not see anything that hasn't been seen before or go where nowhere else has been. This is not exactly inspirational. The bit that inspires me are the final sentences.

What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life. We do not live to eat and make money. We eat and make money to be able to enjoy life. That is what life means and what life is for. 

Thank you, Mr. Mallory.

I also read an article written by an athlete/fitness instructor named Mark Twight from Salt Lake City. He trained some of the actors in the movie 300, which is how I found his website. The title of the article is Twitching. Here are my favorite bits.

The life you want to live has no recipe. Following the recipe got you here in the first place.

Mix one high school diploma with an undergrad degree and a college sweetheart. With a whisk (or a whip) blend two cars, a poorly built house in a cul de sac, and fifty hours a week working for a board that doesn't give a shit about you. Reproduce once. Then again. Place all ingredients in a rut, or a grave. One is a bit longer than the other. Bake thoroughly until the resulting life is set. Rigid. With no way out. Serve and enjoy.

But there is a way out. Live the lifestyle instead of paying lip service to the lifestyle. Live with commitment. With emotional content. Live whatever life you choose honestly. Give up this renaissance man, dilettante bullshit of doing a lot of different things (and none of them very well by real standards). Get to the guts of one thing; accept, without reservation or rationalization, the responsibility of making a choice. When you live honestly, you can not separate your mind from your body, or your thoughts from your actions.

If anything, Mark gave me something to fear. I feared twitching. I feared that as the years add up, so will my regrets. I was very afraid of this. Fear is a form of inspiration.

Then, I read Richard Halliburton's The Royal Road to Romance. He feared the same thing!

Youth! Youth! There is absolutely nothing in the world but youth!

A wave of exultation swept over me. Youth – nothing else worth having in the world...and I had youth, the transitory, the fugitive, now, completely and abundantly. Yet what was I going to do with it? Certainly not squander its gold on the commonplace quest for riches and respectability, and then secretly lament the price that had to be paid for these futile ideals. Let those who wish have their respectability – I wanted freedom, freedom to search in the farthermost corners of the earth for the beautiful, the joyous and the romantic.

I think on this short (in both distance and time) trip I managed to find all of these. On my first day, I found a generous second family in Woodbridge who let me lick my wounds for four nights in their home. Then Jarus and his parents, Janet and Buck, who lent me his seat post rack. The great conversations I had with others all along the way including Bobby “the Mouth” Graves, Dick Vail, Captain Don, Donnie the Vintner, Ron, my tire supplier, Peter and Andreas, Juan the pig farmer, Jim the pilot/geologist, Brian, and of course my riding mates Terry, Ryan, and Cooper.

I found the beautiful and the romantic riding the Blue Ridge Parkway, driving that lady's truck to Burger King in Buchanan, hiking up Mt. Rogers, swimming across the Ohio River, camping with a broken tent and a 40 degree sleeping bag at 11,000 feet on Monarch Pass, then leaving the tent behind and spending a night at the bottom of the Black Canyon on the Gunnison River, the beautiful rocks of Utah, the mountains of Nevada along highway 50, and finally the ocean and the beach in California.

When I look back and reminisce about the people I met and the places I have been, it inspires me to meet more people and travel to more places. While experiencing all this, I couldn't help but pick up a few bits of knowledge.

Money does not deserve nearly as much attention as it gets. So does the name on the tag of your clothes, the square footage of your house, and the make of your car. These things will provide comfort, nothing more. If you can realize this now as I have (most people never do) the sooner you will have a satisfied mind. Being comfortable has absolutely nothing to do with being happy.

Stop listening to what our backwards American culture tells you to do. Live with an open mind just like Marcus Aurelius said nearly two thousand years ago.

The business of a healthy eye is to see everything that is visible, not to demand no colour but green, for that merely marks a disordered vision. Likewise hearing and scent, if healthy, should be alert for all kinds of sounds and odours, and a healthy stomach for all manner of meats, like a mill which accepts whatever grist it was fashioned to grind. In the same way, then, a healthy mind ought to be prepared for anything that may befall.

Don't limit yourself to the path most taken. Do what you want. Fulfill a dream. Have a romantic, fantastic experience.

But beware, there are plenty of excuses not to, most having to do with time and money. The ones who make these excuses are just afraid of not being comfortable -- of stepping out -- of coloring outside the lines. How soft you all are! You should be more afraid of not doing it! Have some self-respect! Take pride in your life! Demand that of yourself! Ask yourself why and be honest! Live with conviction knowing that where you are and what you are doing is exactly what you want.

Or, twitch until the end, wondering how things could have been. Live a life of regrets suffering from an unsatisfied mind. The idea of an adventure appeals to everyone. People have said they have lived through me this summer and I have many followers on the blog. If it is so appealing, why don't more people do it? It is because the adventure is the what. Perhaps, if people understand why an adventure is so appealing, they might actually be inspired to have one.

While on my bike trip, I did not bring any music to listen to. So, I would sing to myself when the riding was not too tough. The only problem was I knew all the words to only one song. I sang this song hundreds and hundreds of times. It is my favorite song and here are my favorite verses.

Money can't buy back your youth when you're old
Or a friend when you're lonely or a love that's grown cold;
The wealthiest person is a pauper at times
Compared to the man, with a satisfied mind.

When my life has ended, and my time has run out,
My friends and my loved ones I'll leave, there's no doubt.
But one thing's for certain, when it comes my time,
I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind.

I hope that all of my followers can find inspiration in at least some small part of all this. I especially hope this inspires my cousins. If I can inspire anyone, then I will really feel a sense of accomplishment. It is not to inspire them to go on a bike tour or some other grand adventure. It is to inspire them to live the life they want and to stop twitching.

Days 64-66 - I Think I'll Stop Here

Samuel,
Thanks for following along! Glad you enjoyed it. Are you going to school in California? Where?

Emily,
Glad you finally commented! Thanks for following along.


From Placerville, I rode to the eastern side of Sacramento where my friend Nick, a frequent commenter on this blog, set me up with his uncle. He had a beautiful home with a pool less than a mile from the bike route. The bike route, from Folsom to Sacramento was actually a 30 mile long bike path. No cars here! Just have to watch out for wet, slippery boardwalks...

Looks pretty dry...

Right along the American River.

The ride along the river was beautiful and since it was on a Sunday, the path, parks, and river were full of people. It was nice seeing so many out enjoying themselves. 

Bob was a great host and he took me out to Jack's Urban Eats for dinner and afterwards we shared a bowl of popcorn while watching Pierce Brosnan as James Bond before going to bed. In the morning, I had a high calorie breakfast before beginning my ride around 8:30AM. Bob made a strong brew and I took it black. I could feel the caffeine immediately. It was certainly mixed with some adrenaline. I was ready to go and as I was walking my bike out of his backyard, Bob yelled, "You're livin' the dream, man! You're livin' the dream!"

My final day of riding was to be 90 miles from east Sacramento to Vallejo. From Vallejo, I would take the ferry across the bay to San Francisco. I started out still on the bike path, riding as fast as ever. I caught a group of 8 local riders within the first few miles and rode and chatted with them for a bit to Old West Sacramento. Not too long after, I stopped for a quick drink at a gas station. While I was outside wondering why I had decided to get the large soda instead of the small, I saw what was sure to be another trans-America cyclist heading west. I threw my drink away and jumped on my bike to catch up. 

The rider's name was Brian and he had come from New York City. He was 27 years old and was not going to be finishing his ride today in San Francisco. He would stop after only 30 or 40 more miles and then go around the bay on his bike in order to come into San Francisco on the Golden Gate Bridge. 

We began talking about how our rides have been and our worst and best experiences and our longest days and so forth. I was getting hungry and the conversation was getting good. So, we decided to take a lunch stop in Winters at the Putah Creek Cafe.

In college at Carnegie Mellon, Brian was a math and computer science major. He interned at Microsoft and worked on Vista while he was there. He has been working in the finance industry for the past few years in New York City. He lives on the upper east side of Manhattan and has made a lot of money at his job. He said they paid him, "gobs of money like you wouldn't believe." 

Then, his boss was let go. He did not like the new boss and so he started to not like his job. He told them he was quitting and then they decided to not give him a bonus he had already earned unless he worked 18 more months. So, he went to work every day for a year and played games on his computer. 

Once he finally quit that job, he knew he needed to make some changes with his life. This lead to him riding his bike across the U.S. He said he wants to do something more meaningful when he returns. He wants to do something that would have an immediate, positive impact on the world. He certainly has the means to do whatever he wants. 

However, his parents, who grew up in very poor households, are worried about him. To see their son without a steady income gives them sleepless nights. They are constantly asking about when he will get another job. He feels tremendous pressure from them. 

He also is feeling pressure from his girlfriend. She also has a high paying job in finance and they have been together for the better part of 6 years. Marriage is certainly on her mind and he knows it. He just is not so sure about it. 

He finally said that he just wants to move to the Caribbean and live on boat. 

Brian is certainly at a crossroads in his life. He is a smart guy and I am sure he will make good decisions. My only advice is to be more selfish. 

I rode with Brian for about 40 miles and it was a remarkable coincidence how appropriate that nearly half of my final day of riding was with as interesting of a person as him. He has confirmed in many ways what I thought I already knew. 

I cranked out the last 30 miles to Vallejo through the strongest headwind of the entire trip. I was nearly blown off my bike numerous times. I managed to arrive at the ferry building in Vallejo at 5:20 just in time to catch the last ferry of the day at 5:35. 

The ferry ride was an hour long so, I decided to start looking for a place to sleep that night. I had no idea how long I would be in San Francisco and I hadn't even purchased my plane ticket home yet. Heck, I didn't even know how I was going to get my bike back to Cleveland.

After seeing how expensive the hotels were, I found a hostel close to the San Francisco ferry building for 30 bucks a night. I called them immediately and reserved a bed. The hostel turned out to be a much better idea than a hotel even if I could afford one. There were about 20 other young people staying there and I was one of only a couple Americans. There were people from Canada, Russia, Germany, Italy, England (southern softies, though), and even Egypt.

After meeting everyone and claiming a mattress, I set out to buy some real clothes. I haven't worn cotton or denim for more than 2 months and I miss it. I've been looking forward to this moment! I walked over to the nearest clothing store,  found a manikin with a good looking outfit on, found a salesman, and told him I wanted that outfit. He went around and picked everything out and I was back in street clothes again. I also dropped 2 inches around my waist.

Today, I made friends with the German guy staying at the hostel. His name was Felix and he was from Düsseldorf. He did not come from there, though. He actually just finished a 2 month internship in Jamaica and just got into the states the same night I arrived. He was 20 years old and enjoyed mountain and road biking back in Germany so, we had plenty to talk about. Plus, I could practice more of my German. He was impressed or, just really nice.

First, we walked over to a bike shop and I dropped the Marin off for it to be packaged and shipped back to Cleveland.

Best looking bike in the shop. 

We then walked a bit more before deciding to hop on a bus to the beach by Golden Gate State Park. I was sorry the Marin couldn't be there with me.

Felix und mich.

Where's the Marin?

So, this is my final stop. There are more places to go. I could go to Yosemite or down to San Diego or even up through the Redwoods. That's just in California! There's Montana, Idaho, Rocky Mountain National Park, Oregon, Washington, the Grand Canyon, England, Scotland, Switzerland, Ireland, Australia, New Zealand, Greece, Italy, Germany, France, Spain, just to name a few. This trip was never about getting to San Francisco. If I just wanted to get to San Francisco, I should have gotten on a plane. 

I have been gone from home for over two months and I am ready to get back. I booked a flight that will get me to Cleveland at around 11AM on July 29. 

Also, I have one more blog that I will post as an attempt at an epilogue or summation to this trip. It should be up before I arrive back in Cleveland. Check back if you are interested. As for the riding, it is now over...until next time.

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Day 63 - An Epic Day of Riding

Comments about comments:

Uncle Dave,
Tell Brian to keep the car. I've got my bike. I'm just going to have to get some snow tires...

The toughest mountain pass of the entire trip would be the last one. About 25 miles into my ride from Carson City I began going up. Not before I crossed into California, though.

A bit anticlimactic, wouldn't you say?

In Carson City, I ate two sausage egg and cheese McMuffins at around 7AM. Then, right before the climb started at 10AM, I stopped in Woodfords and had a ham and swiss sandwich. While eating, a cycling couple in their mid-50's that had just arrived started talking with me. I told them I was going over the pass today. Immediately they told me how steep it was and the guy told me I would be going 4 mph the whole way up. I assured them that I made it this far and would be fine. They then told me it would be even worse because it was so hot out. 

In fact, they were so concerned with the heat at 10AM that they were in a rush to leave to get back to their car. We went outside and then the guy saw my bike did not have any low climbing gears. He told me that I really should have gotten a bike with a triple crank. The woman also mentioned how if they ever did a tour it would be a fully supported one in Italy. 

So, they got on their bikes to get to a car and then shower and air conditioning before it got too hot out. I was happy to be going the opposite direction. 

The opposite direction was up to Carson Pass over the Carson Range in the Sierra Nevada's. The climb was steep and long and certainly the hardest of the trip. Despite the dry air, I was drenched in sweat and it was dripping from my nose and running down my sunglass lenses. It was also one of the most beautiful. At only 8500 feet at the top, I was eye to eye with snow. 

Never went below 6mph and only stopped once for about 30 seconds.

Caples Lake

On the descent, I stopped in Kirkwood at around 1:30 to have my third meal of the day. It was a tuna melt with sweet potato fries. I also had to refill all my water bottles. I still don't think I had consumed more calories than I had already burned that day.

Further along on the descent, I missed a turn. It was a terrible time to miss one because I was going nearly 40mph. After about 2 miles I realized what happened and had to turn around to ride the 2 miles back up the hill. It was pretty frustrating, especially because I had already done 90 miles by this time and was in no mood for more climbing. I was distracted by the views though.

The day ended just outside Placerville at the Mother Lode Motel 118 miles later. The longest ride of the trip! I ordered spaghetti with meatballs for delivery. That's over 290 miles in the past 3 days. I'm definitely in the best shape of my life. 

I am only 135 miles from San Francisco. That's just two days of riding. It's hard to believe I'm nearly there. 

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Day 62 - My Birthday

So, I'm 23 years old now. Still so young.

I started riding from Fallon to Carson City at around 10AM. I felt good considering the long mileage of the previous day. The services were every 10 miles or so and I stopped at all of them just because I could. I'm spoiled now. I can get a cold Gatorade whenever I want.

I took my time getting to the capital of Nevada and got myself another hotel room. I'm really treating myself on my birthday. I took two showers today!

After the shower, I sank pretty deep into the bed in the hotel. But, it's my birthday! I should go out to dinner and get some drinks, right? Well, the number to Domino's pizza was on the room key and the idea of someone bringing food to me sounded much nicer than having to go out and get it. I ordered a medium pizza with breadsticks.

I also have to re-tape the rims of my wheels and wash my clothes. It's not a typical birthday celebration but, I will tell ya what, I'm happy. That's all that matters.

Sure beats cake and candles.

California tomorrow.


life=good

Days 60 and 61 - King of the Road

Comments about comments:

Hey Coop-dogg's Mom,
Thanks for the comment! Glad to see you're following along. Make sure you leave more comments on my blog than on Ryan's.

Ryan,
The Schwalbe's bulged on you, eh? Glad to see the duct tape technique got you through. I hope Eli isn't cooler than me.

Anonymous,
Thanks for the comment, the advice, and the birthday wishes.

Texas Meyerson,
Thanks! And wish Dan a happy birthday for me!

To all my other birthday well-wishers,
Thank you very much and I appreciate that you keep following along! Less than a week to San Francisco!

As soon I arrived in Eureka, I went straight to the pool. They let me in for free. After that, I put my bike in a park behind the elementary school. It looked like a nice place to spend the night. 

I fell asleep by 8PM and did not wake up until 5AM. I had not been sleeping well lately and it was starting to drastically effect my riding. After that much shut-eye, the ride into Austin was great. Austin was actually a stop for the Pony Express and highway 50 is roughly the route the riders used. I was reading the menu at a restaurant and according to it, the riders could deliver a letter 1800 miles in just 10 days. Five days after the first telegraph message was sent, the Pony Express shut down. I like that it took them 5 days, though. 

I love this picture.

Once again, as soon as I arrived in Austin, I found the pool. Only this time, I rode past it to a gas station to get some drinks and food before taking a dip. As I was standing outside the gas station in Austin, an older gentleman in his 70s came up and talked to me. He asked me the standard questions at first just to get the conversation going. Then, we really got to talking. 

He was a triathlete in his day and did four iron-mans. He didn't do the first one until he was 41 years old. He was a runner his whole life and that is what he truly enjoyed. Although, he really talked fondly of biking, and even racquetball. He remembers when triathlons started in the U.S. in the 70's. He also remembers when racquetball was started and then got really popular in the 80's. 

We also talked about health. He was 5 foot 9 and weighed 140 pounds, at the most. He had guessed my height and weight exactly within a few minutes of talking with him. He said how it is sad that when he goes to the doctor's office and sees a fat man who eats bad food and drinks and smokes get a new heart or a procedure done to fix his clogged heart, then just keep on with their bad habits. When he got a quadruple bypass, his weight went down to 107 pounds and it took him three years to get his weight back to where it is now. It only took him a few months to get back on his bike and ride up Mt. Evans. This is because the weight he put back on was all muscle and at his age, putting on muscle takes time. 

He was a science teacher in Florida and still lives there. People just say that he is an exception and that he is just a naturally skinny person. That's what those fat people at the doctor's office say when he walks in. He knows he is no exception. He tells his students, you want to be as fit as me, spend a week with me, see how I live. I'm up at 4 in the morning to run 8 miles. Then, see what I eat for breakfast. The day just continues like that. 

He still had clogged arteries because of his genetics. All of his mother's brothers died before they were 40. He is convinced that if he would've kept smoking and drinking and eating as poorly as he did in his young days, he would've been lucky to see 50. I told him all that hard work paid off and he saved his life. He said, "What hard work? I enjoy what I do." 

After that, I went over to the pool, got a shower, and then decided to walk around town. As I was strolling,  I met Chip sitting outside a restaurant. I noticed his Shimano shoes and then saw his yellow Ortlieb panniers and sat down right across from him. He looked exhausted, and as I soon found out, reasonably so. The day before, he had ridden 116 miles from Carson City to Middlegate. Along the way he ran out of food and water. Rookie mistakes. 

Chip is a photographer from Long Beach. He said he sold everything he had to buy the bike and the gear. He used to own a pet photography business and also worked with fashion schools. Then, he decided he needed to mix things up and was tired of his lifestyle. This is basically why he decided to do the bike trip. 

He left Long Beach and was riding up the coast to stay with friends in Oakland. While in Oakland, he got a call about a photography gig in D.C. in early October. So, he decided to start heading east from Oakland and so we crossed paths in Austin. 

We camped next to a church in Austin. I still haven't paid for a place to sleep in the entire state. As I was laying in my tent, I was wondering how the next day would go. I could ride only 65 miles to Middlegate and camp there for free. Or, I could ride 110 miles all the way to Fallon. 

I went all the way to Fallon and completely dominated it. To put a final stamp of domination on Nevada, I even chose to ride an alternate route over Carroll summit. The normal route would've taken me over two 500 foot climbs. Carroll summit was nearly 1500 feet. No sweat. I made it the 65 miles to Middlegate without even finishing half my 3 liter CamelBak. I also didn't even need to eat anything. I was feeling good.

I had a burger in Middlegate and watched a recording of a special done on highway 50. All the people in the bar I was watching the show with were interviewed on it! It was funny watching it with them. It was also interesting to see how the show portrayed the highway. They certainly make you think it's completely desolate. After riding on it for the past 5 days, I can tell you, it's anything but. Cars are constantly going by me. I think the longest span of time without a car was 10 or 15 minutes. The towns, while sparsely populated and far apart, have plenty of people going through them. I think back on my conversations in Baker and Austin and highway 50 isn't really lonely at all. There are even T-shirts you can buy that say, "I survived highway 50." What a joke. Maybe if you are in your car and just stop to get gas and just stay at hotels it will get pretty lonely. 

I completed the entire 110 miles from Austin to Fallon in about 9.5 hours. However, I only spent about 7.5 of them on my bike. My average speed was 14.5 mph. I'm King of the Road.

Old worn out suits and shoes,
I don't pay no union dues,
I smoke old stogies I have found
Short, but not too big around
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.

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Days 58 and 59 - Learning About Nevada

Now, I don't want you to get the wrong impression about Jim. He may not like Ohio much, but he sure is a friendly and interesting guy. We talked quite a bit that night in Baker to the point where his son was visibly frustrated. He mentioned that if I was still around in the morning, he would drive me up to Lehman caves so we could all go on a tour. That sounded like a great idea especially because it would save me a 6 mile climb. 

In the morning, we had breakfast and got in his car around 8:45AM to see the 9AM tour. For a pilot from Colorado, he knew a lot about the geography of Nevada. As we were driving up to the visitor's center, he was telling me why Nevada is so mountainous. Typically, when mountains are formed, two plates are pushing against each other, one eventually goes down and the other goes up, creating the mountain. In Nevada, this is not the case. The plates in Nevada are actually moving apart. When the plates move apart, one side of the plate will eventually go down and the other side will go up. This creates the multiple mountain ranges with the desert valleys in between. 

We arrived at the visitor center and the 9AM tour of the caves was sold out. Bummer. Jim decided we should take the road that goes up to just below the peak of 13,000 foot Mt. Wheeler. The road was 10 miles of 8% grade. I certainly wouldn't have gone this way without a car. 

On the ride up, Jim continued to talk about the land. He mentioned how out east, there are plenty of rivers and water for everyone. Out west, especially in Nevada, that is not the case. Currently, in Baker, there is an issue going on with Las Vegas. Up on Mt. Wheeler, there is a lake and a stream and plenty of life. Las Vegas wants to run a pipe and grab the water from up there. This would most certainly kill everything up there. Not to mention that they are currently in an 11-12 year drought. Here's what's at stake.

I'm going to come back here and walk up Mt. Wheeler. It's only a 3 mile hike from the parking lot. I just want to say I threw a snowball in the desert in mid-July.

Stella Lake

TJ with an appropriately shaped rock.

That deer was not too concerned with me. 

What's more interesting is that these mountains are literally desert islands. That deer will never walk down the mountain, then 30 or 40 miles across a barren desert, and up to another mountain range. The life that exists on these mountains in the desert are completely isolated from each other, despite being just tens of miles apart. Also, up on these mountains at very high elevation is a tree called the Bristlecone Pine. They are the oldest living plants in the world with some more than 5,000 years old. It would be a shame to lose any of this. 

On the way back down, Jim told me the most interesting story of how a great natural treasure was lost. If you remember my stay at Lake Powell, it was certainly beautiful. However, the lake was formed from one dam placed on the Colorado River and it is what lies beneath the waters of Lake Powell that was even more beautiful. A brief history of why the dam was built can be read here.

Jim also recommended a book to me. Desert Solitaire by Ed Abbey. He read me some quotes and I can't wait to get my hands on a copy. Jim even invited me to Durango some time. It was a great morning but, it was now noon and I had not even began riding yet. It was going to be a hot ride to Ely.

This one makes me laugh pretty hard...

Not happy about that late start. 

The late start meant a late finish. I arrived in Ely as the sun was going down and the last hour of the ride was extremely pleasant.

I camped in Ely and got a 6:30 start the following morning to head to Eureka. 

It was up and down mountains once again to Eureka. Just cruising along highway 50.

life=good

Days 56 and 57 - A Fiesta Before the Penultimate State

The ride from Cedar City to Milford was nice and uneventful except I crossed paths with another cyclist. I never caught his name but, he came from San Francisco and was quick to give some advice on the rest of Utah and Nevada. The only advice I remembered was that it gets really hot so start riding early and that there are sprinklers in the park in Milford so sleep under the pavilion. I remembered my experience in Dolores so, it was easy for me to remember this bit.

The park was behind the high school in Milford. I had little trouble finding it and after setting up, I decided to think about food. I would need dinner, breakfast, and lunch tomorrow. I went to the grocery store and stocked up. Not too long after I returned from the store, fully prepared for a pleasant, quiet evening, a car pulls up to the pavilion. A Mexican family gets out and is carrying party favors with a theme from the Pixar movie Cars.  Hmm, I wonder where this is going. 

I sit and wait. A couple more cars pull up. More Mexicans. I now give in to the fact that there is going to be a birthday party in the pavilion tonight. The question now is how long it will last. I am planning on a very early start, as the cyclist I met earlier advised. I decide to go for a walk and make some phone calls. 

I come back, and now there at least 20 cars parked outside the pavilion and at least 50 Mexicans under it. This park was full of Mexicans. They were all speaking Spanish and I couldn't understand anything. It was not going to be the kind of night I had been hoping for. It was impossible for me to get frustrated because there were all these cute kids running around stepping in puddles and eating popsicles. Eventually, one of the men from the party came up to me and asked me if I wanted some tacos. Ten seconds later I was sitting down in the middle of the whole party with a plate full of tacos repeatedly saying, "Gracias."

They were interested in my bike ride but, one gentleman was particularly interested in me. His name was Juan Guerrero. I just had to ask a couple questions and I received a lot of information. All of the Mexicans were part of the same family and they all came from Chihuahua, Mexico. In Utah, they work on a pig breeding farm. I asked Juan what he thought of America and he said he liked it, however his 4 year old son was back in Mexico with his ex-wife. Also, the relationship with his ex-wife is not good. 

Back in Mexico, Juan first studied to be an electrician to work on the phone lines. There is only one phone company in Mexico and according to Juan, they pay their electricians very well. It is typically very difficult to get a job with the phone company but, Juan's father worked for them. While studying, Juan could tell it was not what he wanted to do. Despite the fact that he would be paid very well and that he would be able to live and work in Mexico, he was not happy. His father was also not happy that he did not want to follow in his footsteps. He went back to school to study animal science. Now, Juan says he loves his job at the pig farm. He certainly was a very happy and friendly guy. 

The conversation with Juan ended around 10 and the fiesta around 10:30. I didn't get to sleep until around 11 or 11:30. I didn't sleep too soundly and so I didn't start riding until 6:45. Despite this, I made it to Baker with no problems. It was a beautiful ride. Once again, the geography is drastically changing.

Not the first sign you want to see on your bike ride.

There were 3 mountain passes from Milford to Baker. As I would come over one, I could see the next one 20 miles away. I could also see the road to the next range. 

State 8 of 9

After about 50 miles I stopped to eat my lunch. As I was munching, a pick-up pulled up behind with a younger guy in the front seat and an older guy driving. They asked if everything was alright. The guy in the front seat was from Boston and is riding his bike from San Francisco. The old guy was some guy he met in Milford. The man offered to let him stay at his place. They were on their way to Baker to get a tour of Lehman caves in Great Basin National Park. 

Once I arrived in Baker, I pulled up to Silver Jack's Motel. I heard if you buy dinner there they let you camp out back for free. As I was sitting inside, Matt and his tour guide from Milford strolled in. I spoke with Matt for a while and even gave him all my maps from Cedar City, Utah to Missouri. He is a 5th grade school teacher back in Boston and unfortunately only has 30 days to ride his bike. He doesn't plan ride all the way back to Boston in that time. I told him to take his time.

Now that I'm in Nevada I am on Pacific Standard Time. Tomorrow will only be 63 miles to Ely. I am also considering riding up to see Lehman caves. Matt recommended it. However, I made a couple friends in Baker. One is Jim and his son TJ, from Durango, Colorado. He is a pilot for NetJets based in Columbus, Ohio. Jim has spent some time working in Ohio and even met his wife there. He certainly had no qualms about sharing his disdain for Ohio. Especially in comparison to Colorado. He mainly talked about Ohioan's narcissism. In other words, they are too focused on their image to enjoy themselves. I remember him saying that in Colorado, when people as you what do you do, they don't care what job you have, they want to know what you do, such as mountain or road biking, rafting, hiking, and so forth. 

I could not argue against the fact that some Ohioans are like this. But, you have narcissistic people all over the place. Even in Colorado! Colorado's culture is different, but I think it is because of the geography of the state. Naturally, mountain biking isn't as popular in Ohio as it is in Colorado seeing as their are no mountains! The same holds true for white water rafting, skiing, and other such adventurous activities. Nevertheless, I am very proud of the fact I am from Ohio. 

Speaking of the active culture of Colorado, remember my story about meeting two guys on separate occasions who had each run the Pike's Peak marathon multiple times? Well, as I was setting up my tent behind Silver Jack's, I met another Coloradoan named John. We got to talking and I told him this story about how one guy ran it 3 times and then the other ran it four times. He then casually mentioned he had run the marathon 7 times. Amazing.



life=good