Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

It. Is. Hot. For nearly a week now we've had temps above 90 degrees. The last couple of days have been in the 100's. Couple that with long rides, between 75 miles and 97 miles, crosswinds that force you to have to struggle to keep the bike on the road, and not much in the way of shade during the ride, and you have a recipe for disaster. Thankfully, I've not encountered any awful situations, but I've been whipped by the end and just want to find a place to take a nap. So that's exactly what I've been doing. My life these days goes like this: eat, bike, eat, hydrate, hydrate, bike, eat, hydrate, bike, nap, eat, sleep, get up and repeat. Hubby keeps teasing me that this whole biking across America is really an opportunity to eat as much as I want at all the different diners along the way. I can't really disagree with that. Today we stopped in Newton, Kansas to eat breakfast at Karen's Kitchen. I had a strawberry banana smoothie along with the egg and ba...

Missouri is now in my rearview mirror, and Kansas is the place I'll call home for the next six days. So far, Kansas has been much kinder than Missouri ever was. I'm sure when the ride is all said and done, I'll remember Missouri with rose-colored glasses, but because its abuse is so fresh, I'm seeing Missouri in it's true colors: hilly, hot, and even hillier and hotter. I finished yesterday's 74 mile ride completely exhausted after climbing, descending, climbing, descending, repeat for nearly 74 miles. Add to that temps of 100 degrees and you've got a day designed to kick your butt. And kick butt it did. I stretched out under a tree at the final stop, Ash Grove, and snoozed for some time, completely wiped out from the ride. Today's ride of 68 miles was the perfect recovery ride. The hills became less and less. The straights became long and fast. The wind was at my back. And to top it all off, at the 34 mile mark, at Cooky's Cafe, there was pecan pi...

The last two days were tough, physically and emotionally. Yesterday we rode 87 miles, which started out fine and after the first rest stop went even better. Our speed increased even though the hills were sprinkled along the way, and we were feeling good. Then we left the second rest stop and started into the Missouri Ozarks. The hills started coming fast and furious. Our speed decreased but we made it to the 60 mile mark in good spirits. With only 27 miles to go, we started off hoping to finish the day in fine shape. By mile 75, I for one, kept checking the mileage, wondering why it was slipping by so slowly, found myself grimacing with each hill looming in front of me, and prayed that my water would last until the end. The near 90 degrees along with the constant hill climbing had taken their toll on me. For the first time on the ride, I felt complete relief when I saw the sign for the campground where we were staying. Today, we rode 79 miles. As soon as we started out, the hills car...

Three weeks ago this morning we left out of Yorktown, and now over 1000 miles are behind us. At this moment, I am sitting on my bunk in Al's Place, a hostel for cyclists, after eating a very delicious lunch of linguini with basil pesto, chicken, and goat cheese, and after showering the morning ride grime down the drain. I'm thinking a nap would be a good thing as tomorrow's ride is 87 miles, but I have to fold the laundry first. This morning's ride took us out of Chester, IL, across the Mississippi, and into Missouri. For some time now, we've been hearing horror stories of the Missouri hills. When I was in a Carbondale cycle shop, retrieving my bike after having the deraillier adjusted, Hubby and I talked with two guys who had just come through Missouri, heading east. They told us of the hills, the grades that turned men into wimps. I was not looking forward to the Missouri hills. Today, though, if it's any indication at all, and things could get significantly...

The problem with having a rest day is it always comes to an end. Even worse, when family shows up for the rest day, they have to leave when the rest day ends. Saying goodbye a second time was no easier than saying goodbye the first time. Part of me thinks it was more difficult the second time around because I was so darn close to home. The tug of home was strong. All I could think about was my kitchen, my garden, my bed, and being with my family every day, all day. Then Hubby made a good point: if I was home, the kids would be ensconced in their room, headphones on, eyes glued to the computer screen or to the TV screen, playing XBox. They wouldn't even know I'm home. Beautiful Lovely Daughter would be working, hanging out with her friends that she hasn't seen since early March, and probably staying with her friends more than she would actually be home. Continuing the ride would be way more exciting than being home. When put like that, the pull to go home became less. But I ...

Ahhhhh. Rest day. Finally. I realized yesterday around mile 45 just how much I needed the rest day. I was tired. Each hill that loomed in front of me seemed endless and my thoughts were all negative. I realized I was being negative, but no matter what I tried, like saying, "Hey, look, what a beautiful pastoral scene" or "Was that dead snake a rattlesnake? Sure looked like one to me" didn't take my mind of the route that seemed to be one hill after another. And the grades at times sucked anything remotely positive right out each and every pore of my body. I even entertained the thought of getting off the bike and pushing it up one of the steeper hills. The horror! Yep, a rest day was sorely needed. So today, I'm resting. With my boys. In a cool hotel room. Watching mindless TV. And eating Arby's. Or Sonic. And Twizzlers. First a nap. Then the pool.  Rest is good.

Heat. Humidity, Wind. 73 miles. Now that's a combo meal. At a few points, the heat radiating off the pavement made me feel like I was sitting in an oven. Thankfully the wind helped keep the heat from totally swallowing me up. By the time Sebree, KY loomed in the very short distance, I had given in and was pedaling just enough to create forward movement. Today I was bad. I didn't eat nearly enough for the mileage. I had the usual peanut butter and honey sandwich, along with an orange, for breakfast, and that was good for the first 20 miles. At the rest stop, after 27 miles, I ate a chocolate bear claw and some chocolate milk. Not a good choice at all. What I should have done is gone across the street to the diner and eaten a full breakfast of eggs, potatoes, and toast. That would have given me the fuel for the next 20 miles. I was okay when I reached the next rest stop at mile 47, but again, all I ate was a banana, some watermelon, and a handful of cheese crackers. By mile 65,...

The 55 miles today seemed like they went by in the blink of an eye. We started out around 7:30 and cruised the county roads, reaching Rough River Dam campground around 12:30. We actually entered Central Time Zone, making it only 11:30 and giving us an extra hour in our day. I guess you could say we time traveled today. After lunch in the lodge, I set up camp, took a shower, then crawled into my tent to take a nap. Not sleeping well is catching up with me, and my eyes just wanted to close for awhile. The heat, the humidity, people riding bikes past, people setting up tents, and the sweat tricking down the sides of my face made it impossible to really snooze. I know I nodded off at one point. I was in that floating, dreaming space of not hearing anything, but it only lasted a few minutes at most. You'd think with all the riding and the heat I'd sleep like a rock each night, but no, I stare at the top of my tent or end up pulling out the tablet to read a book. Once I do fall asl...

Though it's only Day 15, Day 1 seems so far away now. However, at the same time, the days seem to be slipping by incredibly quickly. This juxtaposition of long time ago/time passing quickly is due, in part I think, to riding to a new "home" every day. New scenery,new people, new happenings--like a St. Bernard laying in wait to attack each cyclist riding by--make each day its own adventure. Today has particular significance to me and several of my family members. On June 15, 1957 my dad married my mom. Today marks their 55th wedding anniversary. As I rode along today, I thought about how my parents had such a special relationship. They definitely were part of the lucky ones who found their soulmate. Same goes for my sister. Today is her and her husband's 30th wedding anniversary. They, too, are soulmates, and when you see them together, listen to their banter, you know they love and care deeply for each other. One thing I'm doing a lot of during the ride is thi...

Day 13 brought us to Berea, KY. The hills are lessening in how long they last, but the grade at times brings on the under-the-breath cussing. Coming into the ride, I hadn't had the opportunity to do a lot of hill climbing as I am a flatlander. The hills around central Illinois are mere bumps and cannot truly be called hills. Here, the hills are definitely hills, monstrous, gnarly, quad-thrashing hills. I've always been a hill lover, and even after Hayters Gap and the ride to Breaks Interstate Park with its seemingly never-ending hills, at times having to pull upwards of a 10% grade, I still love hills. The challenge they offer is not just physical; the psychological is there as well. If anything can make a person stronger mentally, it is definitely the hills. The 50 miles today were an easy going 50. I decided to just cruise along, use the ride as a kind of recovery ride. Since the distance was shorter than it has been the last few days, and the day is absolutely gorgeous, wh...

After ten days in Virginia, we said good-bye to what has to be one of the most beautiful States in the entire country. The hills, the landscape, the flowers, the wildlife, the creeks, everything adds up to create a truly gorgeous place. While I'm a little sad to wave so long, Virginia, I am happy to be getting closer to Illinois where I'll see my boys. I miss them something fierce. I knew I would miss them, but the degree of missing them has surprised me. I wake up in the middle of the night and start wondering what they've been doing and if they're staying busy, keeping themselves happy. I think about the evenings we spent sitting on the couch, me sandwiched between the two boys as we watch an episode of "Supernatural." I think about piling into the car and going to get ice cream at Gene's. I think about their hugs they gave me when I started out on the ride June 1. After talking to them last evening, after they had just walked out of the movie theater an...

And already Day 6 has come and gone. Just like that we rode from Yorktown to Blacksburg, covering around 358 miles. Day 1 was tough because of the emotions--Mom not being here, Mom suffering the way she did because of the MS, missing Mom. Day 2 was better, but by mile 70, I was tired from not having slept well for four nights, from all the adrenaline the few days leading up to June 1, and from beginning to miss my boys. Day 3 was the ride into Charlottesville. This day was good. I felt better emotionally, but when we reached the clinic where we were given a reception and a tour of the clinic, the sadness over Mom welled up again when I saw several individuals in wheelchairs, all suffering from MS. As I listened to their stories, I knew the ride is exactly what I need to be doing, but boy is it tough at times. Day 4 was the day we all were dreading: The Climb. We had 60 miles to ride, most of it up, up, up. The climb into Afton called for digging deep. Like 150 feet into the well deep. ...

And the journey begins. Day one is finished after cycling 63 miles, leaving Yorktown just before 9 am and finding the Willis United Methodist Church around 2:30 or so. Rolling past wetlands and wheat fields, through Colonial Williamsburg and on to historic Jamestown, I tried to enjoy the scenery. I've found myself bored with my central Illinois routes, so I've been looking forward to new territory. Today, though, for quite a few miles, all I did was cry. I'd get myself together only to find the tears ready to fall again not long after drying them. Around mile 10, another BTUSFMS cyclist pulled up alongside, and we began to chat. She and I rode together for most of the ride. Being distracted helped keep my mind off the sadness threatening to well up. At the rest stops, I made sure to hang with a group to hear their stories and laugh over the silly things already going on, like Andy from England grabbing an American flag while riding through Colonial Williamsburg and amusin...