06/20/01- Today is June 20th, the day I’ve been waiting for. I was woken up by my mother who was screaming for me to get up. Then, I fell asleep again. Since last night was the last time I could see my friends, I spent time, too much time, hanging out. I was out until about 2 a.m. and I ultimately woke up at 4:30 after a second rude awakening from my mother, but it was well deserved. I got 2 and a half hours of sleep, plus I’m still adapting to my new sleeping schedule. I’m tired and the soft Christian music I was forced to listen to during my ride to the airport with my parents didn’t aid the fact. Nonetheless, I kept my eyes open and fixed on the Arizona sunrise. When my plane arrives in Portland, Ben’s cousin will collect us at our gates and eventually drive us to Astoria, Oregon where we will officially be homeless. I love the feeling, as crazy as it might sound. ----I’m on the plane now. Who would have thought it would be so difficult? Upon entering the 737, I had a backpack on my back and a bike pannier in each arm. A passenger is only supposed to carry on 2 bags. I knew this, but the size of my combined 3 bags was cumulatively smaller than many 2-bag combinations I would later sight onboard. Who would have thought it would be so difficult? Apparently, one of the flight attendants did. This genius was an ass of a man. He looked at me. “Uh, excuse me, sir? You’re going to have to check in one of those bags.” I told him that I would have already, but I had fragile items in each bag. I would have reorganized them, so as to place all fragile items in 2 bags, and hand over a check-ready pannier, but I spent hours last night strategically packing my already-too-full bags. My backpack was only filled with a Palm Pilot, handheld radios, my cell-phone, and my helmet. The only escape plan I could devise was to do as follows: “Is it illegal to wear a hat on the plane?” I asked. He answered, “No.” In a moment’s time, my pockets were filled with electronics and my head was protected by an impact resistant Specialized Enduro Pro. I handed him the empty backpack. “Here” I said. “Check this.” Okay, I need to make something clear. Early in the ordeal, this steward was simply doing his job, but he became the donkey of all donkeys when he said, “That’s not going to happen.” This is not how I wanted to begin the trip of a lifetime. If I checked in one of my panniers, surely something would break; my camera, my glasses. Plan B: The charity plea… “Sir, look, I’m riding my bicycle across the United States to raise money for multiple sclerosis…” Not knowing why the empty bag scheme didn’t work, I argued with Captain Insensitive for a few more minutes. Just then, my savior, a man by the name of Jeff Shelton, who was also boarding the Southwest Plane heard us debating and snatched a pannier. “I think one of these is mine, actually,” he said to the mule. Foreseeing his defeat, the donkey lifted his snout and, without a word, trotted sadly away. It was the first kind act of the venture and it will not be forgotten.------- We’re at the camp now. Ben hasn’t changed a bit, except for the sideburns and the “I haven’t shaved in 2 days and don’t intend to for the rest of the trip” mountain man look. His cousin, Wendy, is really down-to-earth and greatly considerate when it comes to things like practically having an entire route planned out for us…which should be very helpful. We got a campsite right near the beach at a biker’s rate of $8. I haven’t seen the beach since spring break in San Diego. It's nice here. We made a fire to stay warm and cooked Hamburger Helper for dinner. Good stuff. Time for sleep; I hope to begin just after sunrise in the morning.
06/21/01- First day on the road. We woke up at about 6 a.m. The sun came up at 4:30 to shine light on the longest day of the year. We would need all the time the day could afford us because we had multiple delays. After spending over an hour trying to get those darn Specialized Armadillo tires on Ben's bike so that we could have a flatproof ride across the country, we, ironically enough, pinched and ruined 3 tubes. We mounted 1 tire successfully and gave up on the other. A bike store mechanic would later complete the task for us in less than 5 minutes. We loaded up our gear after collecting a generous $50 M.S. donation from our oh-so-nice camp neighbors and rode the half mile toward the beach. Once there, a jogger kindly snapped our pacific coast picture with my camera. We answered questions about our trip for her and a couple other folks at the beach until we decided the starting time was long overdue. Everybody has seemed so interested in our journey. 110 miles for the first day was extremely demanding, but Ben and I decided we would make it to Portland in the remaining 11 hours of daylight. We left the camp on our first ride with fully loaded bikes and I learned that I could not ride while standing; my bike is too topheavy. Ben's rack allows him to mount his gear lower, so he can stand-ride without much trouble. The winding roads led us to some hills where we would practice climbing with an anvil on our bikes. Not too bad. The hills then led us to some mountains. Our 40 mile climb had begun. Luckily, I had some fairly energizing Hamburger Helper in my system from the night before along with an extremely healthy breakfast consisting of fruit, yogurt, peanut buttered crackers, and my daily vitamins. Because of my nutritious meal choices I was able to ride alternating drafting positions with Ben up the beginnings of the 1600 foot climb. The fairly energizing Hamburger Helper became temporary energy after the climb had worked me, and the health of my extreme breakfast leaked out my pores and dripped down every inch of my body. I gulped my well-stocked water supply. I was energyless. Ben, who was 200 meters up, stopped to wait for me. When I got there I stopped to wait for myself. Ben is in better shape than me. After a nice break, we attacked the steep, snaking highway. Ben took off feeling good. I took off feeling not completely drained, and immediately drifted a fair distance behind him. When we got to the top of another portion of the hill, I was pushing myself simply because Ben was ahead of me. Besides, the best way to get in shape is to push oneself to those limits. Usually when I ride I think about women or bikes or how the world works. On this climb, my mind went blank. This was the longest continuous climb I had ever done and my legs and mind were suffering because of it. When I made it to the point where Ben was waiting, I dropped my bike and fell asleep in some gravel. I don't know how long I was out, but when I woke up, Ben had some crackers and a Clif Bar ready for me. They were delicious. We continued upward, knowing that what goes up must come down. I made it to the top with less struggle and shot a photo of us next to the summit sign. I saw two centipedes during that stop. I've heard they're poisonous so I didn't cuddle them. I told Ben I wasn't going to be able to make it to Portland, even though we were past the tough segment of the area. Determined to make it in the first day, he encouraged me, "come on Simon. We can make it" but after a few more slow miles, he gave in. With permission and even a donation to M.S., we slept with some cows on a farm. 72 miles
06/22/01- At about 9am, Ben and I woke up with our women; the cows. We packed up and rode into Portland, a true kingdom of a city. Everybody strolling the streets and sidewalks seemed to be chipper and having a good time. I think it’s because they want to be here. The weather and the setting are great; the opposite of Arizona. To me, it seems like people in Phoenix are there because they have to be. In Portland, they all seemed to love the outdoors. There are REI stores galore, biker friendly road signs, bike lanes, and tons of people just sitting on their porch. The setting was welcoming and I noticed many sculptures and public art projects decorating the city. We got more “honk, honk, where you guys headed to?”s than anywhere yet. Even with all the traffic, we didn’t get into any confrontations with anybody. From the farm to Portland, we rode only 40 miles and we found Ben’s cousin’s house without trouble. Wendy was as welcoming as before. Before I did anything else, I showered in the best shower ever, but more on that later. We ate lunch on her back porch among all the happily green trees and vines. Even her begging Beagle joined us. He was a riot and reminded me of my own dog, Baily Bob. Next, Wendy gave Ben and me the tour of the route we weren’t going to take; the old scenic highway that ran alongside the Columbia River, which was home to the biggest waterfall in Oregon. I saw the first snake of the trip and a huge “Banana Slug.” I didn’t have any salt in my possession. Otherwise, I could have had some chemical reaction fun for a few minutes. We also paid a visit to a fish hatchery. We stopped by REI on the way home to pick up some stuff for the trip. When we got home, Wendy’s husband, Mike, had already begun preparing dinner. The four of us had grilled chicken and the best homemade macaroni and cheese ever. After dinner, I got my head shaved as a tribute to Lance Armstrong. His cancer treatment made all of his hair fall out and he began his journey back to life with a bald head. I, too, was beginning my journey with a bald head. He will win the Tour de France, which is due to begin and end while we are still touring. Lastly, we watched some insanely entertaining rock climbing videos before we hit the sack. Good times. 40 miles.
06/23/01- Today was “climb Mt. Hood” day. My day began at about 9am. I woke up and reorganized my gear. I dissected the tool kit and kept only the most important tools. 1 t-shirt and a pair of socks were added to the “why did i bring all this junk?” pile. Wendy was nice enough to send the pile to my home in Phoenix. She included, for my parents, 2 before and after Polaroids of my full head of hair and my new, simple yet alluring military-style cut. I entered the kitchen to find homemade waffles with strawberries and whipped cream... and bacon... and orange juice, all in one of the most artistic and well-kept homes I think I have ever seen. I scarfed the delicious meal and headed to the futuristic shower. I made sure I turned the water pressure way, way up, and I stepped into the free acupuncture-by-water treatment. When I did, I was nearly pushed over by the force. Luckily, I caught myself on the built-in tile bench which was a great compliment to the custom tile ceiling with marbles dot-to-dotting designs of constellations which could be lighted any of 4 ways. Mike made this shower himself. What a talent. Ben and I left the house at about 9:30am and headed for Mt. Hood. The snowcapped peak was visible from the city, so we could watch our destination grow gradually closer. I wish the east coast was like that. When we met the top of the pass, we were at an elevation of over 4300 feet; almost 3 times the height of the first climb that had tortured me so badly. It wasn’t too difficult, though. I kept a slow, steady pace the whole way and let Ben go ahead when he felt like it. This might sound strange, but on the way up, there was a 2 mile downhill. Ben and I played the drafting game on it at over 30 mph the whole way. It was a nice break. When we were almost to the top of the pass, we came around a corner and got a huge eyefull of bright white snow. We stayed in a camp at about 4000 feet after beating another guy to the last available site by 30 seconds. We made and ate pasta and went to bed with a valuable sense of accomplishment. 65 miles.
06/24/01- Today was “we’re done climbing Mt Hood so let’s fly down the other side and do our first 100 miler” day. And so we did. We woke up to a sprinkle and left the camp in a downpour. Luckily, our waterproof clothes kept us warm and dry during the 30 miles of riding in the cold, wet conditions. We had a headwind most of the day which was fairly annoying but we didn’t let it get us down. The highlight of the day for me was a 7 mile descent into a canyon city called Warm Springs. We stopped at the bottom of the canyon and ate at the worst restaurant ever. But they had some okay artwork inside. On highway 26, we followed a neighboring river along the canyon bed and climbed the 1000 feet back out the other end of the canyon. Then the road turned into a straight path through some farmtowns where we had a sidewind. It was strange riding in a sidewind so powerful. I don’t know if it slowed us down or not but it was difficult to balance with such incessant gusts. We ate at Pizza Hut and got half off our total bill. We kept the extra slices for breakfast. The day ended with a 3 mile downhill into another camp where they let us stay free. No dog attacks yet. 106 miles.
06/25/01- Today was a great day. Only 80 miles, but we are getting in better shape. (I am anyway; Ben has been fine since the first day.) We woke up in Pineville, packed, and got on the road just before 10:00 am. The road slowly ascended through huge, twisted trees. There was no civilization around except for a few farmhouses here and there. There was a 5 mile downhill that led us out of the lush mountainous landscaping into a desert. People told us to expect this. At the bottom was a canyon town called Mitchell. 3 miles before we made it to Mitchell we met 2 other guys touring Oregon by bicycle. Ben called them “sweet dudes.” They gave us a lot of tips and told us what to expect ahead. They also told us there was a café ahead that had picnic tables outside and that the waitress complained about serving people outside even though that’s what the tables are there for. So, of course, when we got there we sat outside. I guess the waitress learned her lesson because she had no problem with us and she seemed really nice. I got a French dip, chips, a homemade shake and an all-you-can-eat salad bar. I couldn’t help it- I ate too much. Next to the café was a furniture store with all of the furniture made of natural trees. The wood was custom cut, treated and polished and very cool. I talked to the artist a bit about his work and began a 4 mile climb. I shouldn’t have eaten so much. I began to feel sick halfway up the hill and I had to stop. While I tried to throw up, Ben zip-tied a part of his rack that was starting to break. He was set, but I couldn’t throw up even with my finger down my throat so I continued through the sickness. I’m still trying to decide if the amount of flavor I got at lunch was worth the pain that followed. It might have been. When we got to the top, I rested and felt better. We began again; down this time. Our wheels turned faster and faster and we got into our aerodynamic riding positions. The 20 mile descent the sweet dudes told us about had begun. We rolled down through a canyon and coasted back and forth on the winding road. We were next to a stream for much of the time and wildlife and mountains were all around. I saw a couple prairie dogs and a coyote. It was great. We practically didn’t have to pedal for an entire fourth of the distance for the day. The canyon spat us out and into a farmtown called Dayville. We learned from a guy at the general store that we were on a common Trans-America bike route. He was a biker himself and let Ben go through his extra bike parts to see if he could find anything that would fix his rack better than zip ties. Negative, but it was a nice gesture anyway. We bought some candy bars and Top Ramen at his store and headed to the suggested church hostel where cycling tourists and touring cyclists are welcome. On the way to the church, we met a guy from Phoenix visiting his mother in Dayville. He lived about 2 miles from my house in Phoenix. At the church we met two other bikers on their way to Maine who were also staying at the hostel. They were a bit strange but okay to talk to while we ate dinner. There was a shower and a kitchen there- a huge help. I slept uncomfortably in my sleeping bag on the hard tile floor. I think I would have rather camped out in the grass, but the shower and kitchen were nice –80 miles.
06/26/01- Woke up at 7:30 am when the other bikers did and packed our stuff. I left a donation at the church and Ben and I ate at a diner 2 blocks away. In the parking lot there were pickup trucks, some with dogs in the back of them. Inside, I noticed that everybody was wearing cowboy hats (one guy was wearing a baseball style cap with that plastic netting stuff in the back. The hat read, “Jim’s Farm Inc.” or something like that) and boots and jeans and flannel shirts. When we entered, they all turned and looked at Ben and me and the whole joint fell silent. Sporting our red and yellow spandex attire, we waded through the silence and sat at our table. I had some delicious French toast, but not enough to make me sick. I forgot my wallet in the café but, luckily, the waitress ran it out to me just as we were leaving. That could have been disastrous. Because of the sores and blisters in places you don’t want to know about, I decided to try 2 pair of spandex shorts today. It worked well. We left the town and rode through a town called John Day. The road was a slowly climbing one but we made good time. We ate at a Texaco in a small town called I forgot. We met a guy named Bob who used to live in Arizona. He said two other guys about our age came through the small town once on bicycles. They were planning on going across the U.S. but one of them called his dad to pick him up. His dad flew into Boise the next day, rented a car, and drove to the town to pick him up. We assured him we would make it to the other coast and told him all about MS and our fundraising. He wanted us to mail him a postcard in the future when we got done. So many people have said that, but I got Bob’s mailing address and I think I might actually send him one if I remember. The next climb started outside Prairie City. It wasn’t bad. After the Blue Mountain summit there was a long downhill into a storm 1 mile outside of a town called Unity. We stopped and put on our layers of rain gear and rode beside the rainy sunset. We made it to Unity and ate at a smoky bar where, again, people inside reacted as if we were wearing signs that said, “Stare at us and don’t say a word until we sit down at our table.” Being the idiot that I am, I asked, “How’s everybody doing this evening?” Everybody turned back around except one man who avoided eye contact by staring at his empty beer glass when he answered, “…uh..fine..” I smiled proudly and sat down at my table. Nobody looked at us again except the waitress who was very interested in our trip. We are so used to the questions and reactions by now, we can almost predict what people will say. It’s fine though. It doesn’t bother Ben or me and we can always chat with somebody about MS and the wonderful things the National MS Society is doing. Everybody always seems to know somebody with MS. Reeking of smoke, we camped in the grass behind a school. It was cloudy most of the day so I rode with my shirt off. Not a good idea. I got very sunburned and my back is itching badly -80 miles.