(written May 22nd, 2018)
11 days ago my two friends and I hopped in a car with our bikes and equipment for the summer and drove on down to Yorktown, Virginia, where we would begin our 4,288 mile bike ride to Astoria, Oregon. We arrived at a church who was allowing us to park there around 3 in the morning and quickly went to sleep in preparation for the next day. We attended their 8am service and talked to many of the nice people who were there. Shortly after we gathered our items and prepared to make the 10 mile ride to the Victory Monument that marks the start of the Trans American Bike Trail. We somehow got off the road that was a straight shot to the monument and ended up on some busy Virginia highways. There were a couple close calls along with a few more wrong turns. Eventually though, we made it to the start, safe and sound, and ready for the many more wrong turns that most likely awaited us. With a quick dip in the York River, or the Atlantic Ocean as I prefer to think of it as, and we were on our way. Our pal John decided very quickly that this journey was something that he needed to do on his own, so it has just been Jenny and I tackling the countryside one hill at a time since that first day.
It’s May 22nd now and I’m in day 10 of my journey from the Atlantic coast to the Pacific Coast via bicycle. I crossed my first state line into Kentucky yesterday and am about 690 miles into my journey. Each day has been incredibly difficult and incredibly rewarding. I have met many wonderful people already who have extended so much generosity and kindness towards me and my friends. I have been able to see much of the beauty that lies off the beaten path in Virginia and Kentucky, a beauty not seen by many but waiting to be seen by all those who are willing.
A typical day on the bike consists of doing about 70ish miles which seems to be a good distance for our inexperienced legs and with this gosh darn terrain. We tend to go to bed with the sun and wake up with it as well. We usually start riding anywhere between 7 and 9 depending on if there is free coffee where we are and how we are feeling. We fill up our waters in the towns we cross and eat lunch when the bigger chunk of the day is behind us. We stop riding when we have done enough mileage or our legs have had enough. We then find a place to fill our waters and then a place to rest our heads. Usually we can score a spot under a pavilion in the town park, or behind a church, sometimes we even get to sleep inside the churches! Some of the time we just ride the line between trespassing and taking an extended nap during nightfall.
A day or two in we ran into our first road angel, George, who did the entire Trans Am last year. George came across Jenny trying to replace her broken derailleur cable as I cheered her on along side. A pinch bolt had fallen off but lucky for us George lived just 7 miles up the road and had everything that was needed to fix it, including the knowledge of how to do so. His lovely wife barb made sure we got a couple nice cold glasses of ice water on the 90 degree Virginian day and George put some air in our tires and we were again headed West! Later that day I ended up throwing up a good amount of the food I had eaten because of the heat and the amount of water I chugged. However, a quick nap in an unlocked, air-conditioned basement church did the trick and once again we continued.
We met another cyclist named John who came from Colorado and was almost to his destination of Yorktown. He informed me of a church hostel and we stayed there one night with him and another cyclist from Belgium, Ian. The people of the church bought us a watermelon and provided many other tasty snacks. We had the hardest climb thus far awaiting us the next day, around 10 miles up to the Blue Ridge Parkway. My bike, Cosmos, and I were just not meant to make it up that thing, but that’s okay because I am really good at walking. I biked where I could and walked where I couldn’t but I made it up that thing. I haven’t walked nearly as much as I have wanted to and that right there is a win in my books. We rested our heads under a pavilion outside a church, right across the property line of someone who wanted $25 just to pitch a couple tents. We evaded the rain for the night and rested up the legs for the many more challenging climbs that lay ahead.
We made it to Lexington the next day where we stayed with Dave and Tasha, my trail friend Leaf’s parents. Leaf, as he went by on the Appalachian Trail is taking on the Continental Divide Trail to finish up his triple crown of hiking. Which is about 7800 miles of hiking in the United States, he goes by Commander now on the CDT (Go Commander!!) We took a few wrong turns getting to their house and we even forded a stream with our bikes and hiked up a ten foot embankment because I didn’t see the road that we were on actually connected to the road we needed to be on, but alas we made it, wet feet and all. Being experienced cycling hosts and wonderful people, Dave and Tasha made sure we were full with homemade pizzas that night and fresh eggs and coffee in the morning. We also got our first shower there which was wonderful.
My trail friend Downhill picked us up the next day after about 60ish hard miles in the rain and took us to trail days in Damascus, a celebration around the Appalachian Trail. I got to see many of my trail friends, make many more, rest the legs for a day, and stock up on some calories. It was nice to be with my hiker trash counter parts but the road always beckons and I have many more miles to harness my inner biker trash.
A day or so later we stayed at a church hostel that was both a hiker hostel and a biker hostel, met some current hikers and another cyclist headed to Astoria, Richard. I drank about a pot of coffee the following morning and was ready to take on the climbs that awaited. My proudest moment thus far was chugging on past Richard, his nice bike and all 27 of his gears (I have 14) at the end of a never ending climb.
We saw our dear pal John on the road yesterday and rode with him for a little while catching up on each other’s experiences on the road thus far. Jenny and I ended up at a church that night that invited us in, said some prayers for us (Lord knows we need all the help we can get), and a very kind gentlemen bought us a whole pizza which we devoured. They had donuts and coffee which we feasted on in the morning and it was wonderful. We had thought John had enough of us and just let us go on without him, turns out he got his millonth problem with his tire or bike and that is the actual reason we never saw him again that day.
This life is very, very beautiful. That’s the main thought that consumes my mind each day, well when I am not consumed with the pain that the uphills bring at least. Each day I am astounded by the beauty that lies all around me. I am filled with such peace and stillness when I am riding, and I am just so grateful for every little thing. I am grateful for the air I wheeze out of my lungs, and my legs that have taken me so far, and a friend by my side for someone to laugh at my jokes and cheer me on. I am grateful I get to see the things I see, meet the people I get to meet, get the best farmer tan lines around, and do something I love everyday. The climbs are HARD, I have hiked up my fair share of mountains but it is a whole new challenge climbing up with a bike under you. A challenge I am more than happy to take on though. I feel my body getting stronger but each day brings with it a whole new challenge, or twelve. There is nothing in the world though quite like the feeling when you make it to the top of a climb that you wanted to walk up for the past 2 miles. When your mind screams that you can’t do it but you don’t listen. When for two miles the only thought in your head reflects the screaming of your legs muscles and the panting of your breathing but you just keep pushing yourself and what do you know? The climb ends, you’re at the top and by golly you got another hill in the books. There is seldom any views at the top of the climbs but the intrinsic reward is amazing, and man are those downhills fun. It’s the balance of going slow enough to survive but fast enough to feel alive and when that wind blows against your sweaty, grimy face you just feel pure freedom and gratitude. Spinning down the green tunnel, feeling on top of the world. Engulfed in the mountains all around you, and then you do it all again, and again.
Kindness, compassion, and love will take you anywhere you need to go. Keep your heart open and full of faith and you will get where you’re going.
Much love,
Lynne Wummel
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