Climbing the mountain

Isabella prepped and excited for today's climb up Afton Mountain and the Blue Ridge Parkway! It's a tough day, but well worth the pain and suffering. I've been thinking about this ride for three years, and I can't wait to take it on now, after a considerably larger number of miles under my belt. 

The goal:

Trail angel, gone but not forgotten:

And then the payoff!

After a long day of climbing, there's the descent into Vesuvius VA. Let me say that if you are not comfortable on a bike, don't do this, and if you are comfortable, proceed with caution and have a blast! There are a number of turns that will make you wish you had checked your brakes, and perhaps reacquaint yourself with whatever believe in. There's something about the adrenaline rush, it reminds you you're really alive for sure. Now that I'm safely down the mountain and approaching my destination, I surely feel alive. Thanks to the donors, thanks to the other riders. 2 more amazing days. Tomorrows ride through Lexington was one of my favorite - probably because of the downhill, but the bucolic landscape helped to complete the scene. 

Wrong way

Presenting the check to the James Q Miller MS Clinic

Meeting some of the patients and staff. Your donations at work!

And for the presentation,

The 2013 team withe the check

Glendale, VA

Hammock city in Glendale outside Willis Church. 

It was a pretty hot and steamy day, in fact a lot like in 2010. When I did this leg back then though, I remember still being a little afraid of this trip. We hurried through those first miles - possibly to prove we can. It's too bad too. You go through some beautiful and culturally rich places that you may never see unless you really try. The Historical Triangle, Yorktown-Williamsburg-Jamestown, is a pretty cool place. 

I also want to take the time to applaud the region for maintaining and expanding the National Capital Trail that stretches a good part of the way from Jamestown to northeast of Richmond. 

Some of the trail from today - outside Jamestown. 

Now I'm swinging in my hammock with some great friends, enjoying a June evening in Virginia. 

Waiting

"I stay my haste, I make delays, 

For what avails this eager pace? 

I stand amid the eternal ways, 

And what is mine shall know my face. "

From "Waiting" by John Burroughs

On our way

Packed and ready. On our way to Yorktown and the beginning of the 2013 TransAm adventure. It's nearly 3 years to the day since I left Yorktown on my bike. 

Our route to the coast closely follows the bike route, not surprisingly given the terrain of Virginia. Afton Mountain is even challenging in a vehicle. 

I've gotten word that cyclists are descending on the Duke of York hotel already - this is happening I guess!  

From lakes to plains

Riding out of Bismarck. A long day, but full of pleasant surprises too. Met a ton of great people in New Salem, Glen Ullin, and Hebron, ND.

Tested out the new wheel today, and had two flats. I suppose the riding conditions have been tough on Isabella (I did finally decide on a name) - now that I've used that name and Emma, I am out of names for a baby girl. A bike and a dog.

I borrowed Alex's wheel and BGs whole bike (except for pedals and a gentleman's understanding about bike seats) while Isabella was acting up. I'm hoping the flats was the last of it.

The trip has been as restorative as I knew it could be. I've reunited with friends from across my years and made new friends as well. It's funny, I know I have an earlier shelf-life, so to speak, than the rest of these guys. I have to remember to stop "savoring" too much or too often. Some things just can't be forced.

Meat, wrapped in meat

Thank you Minneapolis/St. Paul for solving this.

Driving off the spleen

"Call me Ishmael. Some years ago -- never mind how long precisely -- having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off -- then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me." – Heman Melville, Moby Dick




Years ago, I remember reading this passage, and to this day I knew where to find it when I was growing grim about the mouth.  Ishmael, heads to sea, I am not as specific about my escape, just that it happens.

Banding Least Tern Adults in South Dakota

I am sitting in an airport (yes, another airport), waiting for a delayed plane that will take me to Minneapolis via Chicago, and eventually one a 1000 mile bike ride through the Great Plains and to the edge of the Rockies.

Lunch at Voss'

It's been a long couple of weeks to be honest.  Emma and I drove out to South Dakota to deliver a truck, and to see how all of the operations were going out there.  In itself, this is an arduous journey, but as always, I like to go as over the top as I can. By the time Emma an I arrived back in Virginia, we were packing for a visit to CNY.
Mom and I left from Harrisonburg to visit with family and friends and to celebrate the graduation of my cousin Samantha.  I like visiting CNY because I can pick and choose my dates.  After years in VA, I am not prepared or even remotely interested in braving the cold and snow.  And if I am going to brave the cold, I think I may pick somewhere else.  As for late June and July, it's can be pretty hard to beat CNY's weather.

 

The View from My Grandparents' Grave Site

It's our custom to drive around while we visit to some of the foundational places in our lives to see if any changes have happened since our last visit.  The changes tend to be fairly drastic between my visits, which are fewer and farther between than my mother's.  That is the nature of change though – if you are there to watch it, it never seems as though much has changed.  Well, not until it has drastically changed.  If you don't watch it happen though, then even small changes are like slaps in the face.  I am happy to report though that all seems to be as it was, or at least close enough not to crowd out the nostalgia.

Now, before I start knocking hats off, I am headed west to ride for a few weeks.  Heading west to drive off my spleen.  I want to thank all of the folks that have supported the ride this year, and in years past.  It is greatly appreciated and I hope to make the most of this chance.  I hope to keep up with the blog again this year so stay tuned.

Reunions

Reunion (courtesy of Dictionary.com):

–noun

1.  the act of uniting again.

2.  the state of being united again.

3.  a gathering of relatives, friends, or associates at regular intervals or after separation: a family reunion.

The last day of college, spring 2001

I am always fascinated with words like this that are co-opted to mean something clearly related to the original meaning, but also clearly a reduction, such that the actual meaning is lost.  In this case, I would say that it's "uniting" that is the problem.  Does this just mean getting together in the same place at the same time, literally occupying adjacent space?  I hope not.

Reunions are somewhat bizarre. For example, whether it is the large, controlled-environment reintroduction of a high-school or college reunion, or the simple reconnection of old friends, these are rare opportunities where one can straddle time and live in two moments simultaneously.  Nothing and everything have changed.

The drive from Vermillion, South Dakota to Clinton, NY is not insignificant.  To add insult to injury, the route is not necessarily a jewel of the interstate system.  Still, it was going home.  I was on my way to Hamilton College, where I and the rest of the Class of 2001 had graduated 10 years before.  I realize that not many of my post-Hamilton friends comprehend the idea of a college reunion, but you must remember that our graduating class was smaller than freshman biology at many large universities.

We like to make ourselves at home

I don't know about you, but I had some amazing friends in college.  Unfortunately, I have become one of those friends that largely drops off the map for a while, popping up now and again on Facebook.  I guess it was hard since I took a drastically different path and ended up on the other side of the country right out of school.  Those are just excuses though, and the only way to change it it to change it myself.

At any rate, I was afforded 2 days with some of the old crew, and it was great.  I think that the last time that I saw some of these guys was at Ted Stewart's bachelor party in Boston!  And for some of the folks that I saw at the reunion, it was a full ten years!  Everyone looked great, happy, and pursuing their dreams.  I guess that is to be expected given the crowd, but it is always nice to hear it and see it firsthand.

Within moments of reuniting, we had assumed our personas from 10 years past (well a slightly larger, slower, less flexible, and follicly challenged manifestation thereof).  I am not sure what the record time is for befouling a dormitory common room, but I am confident that we were at least competitive.  The moment when I realized how quickly the room had become a sty was precisely when I thought about straddling time, existing in two spaces.  It was refreshing - and we did do the right thing (props to Calvin for spear-heading this) and did the lion's share of the cleaning ourselves rather than leave it for someone else.  That act alone is a sign that there is yet hope for us to grow up, perhaps by the 20th reunion we will have cleaned up our act, but I am not holding out hope.

Team Pace-Cloud - partial reassembly

As if that were not an amazing enough experience, I was fortunate to have another reunion of sorts immediately following the trip to Hamilton.  Slowly, the pieces of team pace-cloud were reassembling for the tour through Virginia.  Pepper and Bridget had agreed to route lead, and Tara decided that she would raise money and ride her home state of Virginia.  I was stuck.  How could I turn that down?  I looked at my calendar and realized that although the Hamilton reunion would keep me from doing the beginning of the state (I have to say that I was ok with missing Afton Mountain), I could race to Virginia from New York and make it just in time to ride into Blacksburg with the team!  Also, if I played my cards right, I could finish out the state of Virginia as well.  I just couldn't pass up the chance, and I am ever so grateful that I decided to do it.  As you can see from the photograph, our reunion was incomplete though.  Miss Liza Starr decided that sweating away in some hut in Cambodia was better than sweating away in some tent in Virginia...wait, I think she might be right!  Liza, no hard feelings, I wish you had been there, but if I were in your shoes, I would have done exactly as you had.  Never pass up a chance for an adventure to somewhere you have never been, you will regret the lost chance.

Although I had to be less "flexible" to straddle the intervening year since I had ridden with Tara, Bridget, and Pepper than the ten years at my college reunion, it was no less rewarding.  Here is the crux, what it means to be united.  We slid immediately into our positions and our old life from the road the year before.  I think it was a little bitter-sweet since Tara and I could not continue for the remainder of the trip, but "you can't go home again," I suppose.

I met my friend and now fellow BTUSFMS alum, Dan Nuckols, at a mutual friend's wedding.  Dan had been in the van, speeding back from San Francisco.  I could see it on his face, the loss, that nostalgic hollow face.  We talked a lot about his trip, about the 2010 trip, and what it means to "go home again."  A reunion juxtaposed with a separation.  I would say to all of the finishers for this year, as they decompress, that though you may not be able to go home again, you can visit.  Like I did in Virginia, in NY, in ND, as I will again whenever I can.