Wrapping it up with a big bow: Reflections on the journey and 1 UNBELIEVABLE DAY

Well, this is definitely a bit embarrassing! It's December... and I never told you, my precious audience, about the last days of my journey. And what a saga those last few days were. I had this mistaken notion that once we went over the mountains in Colorado and peaked at about 10 or 11,000 feet that it must be one continuous descent to SEA LEVEL...because weren't we going to the ocean, after all?? This turned out to be very far from the truth, as the mountains continued right up until about an eighth of a mile from the ocean.

There is so much to write about I'm actually having a hard time beginning from where I last left off:

From the flatlands of Colorado, I made it to Colorado Springs, after riding in the van for the last 18 miles of a 118 mile day coming into Co. Springs. We had the option of continuing to ride the last 20 miles, or riding in the van, and actually, after completing the 100 miles by lunchtime, believe it or not!! I felt ok, and was ready to continue. This was also the day that we took an "access road" for about 13 miles to the outskirts of Co. Springs. "Access road," as I now know, is code for dirt road that disintegrates to sand (have you ever tried riding a road bike through a sand pit for 13 miles??) with horse flies biting our legs and butts and backs. It was pretty hellish, actually. But we made it fine, and I thought, well, I guess I might as well do 20 more miles. Once we left the comforts of the air conditioned gas station, however, I started to feel really sick. We were biking on the side of a major road, it was really really hot, and all of a sudden I felt so tired that I couldn't keep up with my group very well. When one person got a flat tire and the van pulled up behind us, I decided it was time to cut my losses, and it is a good thing that I did: the last 18 miles of our trip were, I think, the scariest part of the entire journey for the people that rode them. There was no bike lane, and the only way to get where we were going was a major multi-lane road full of retail establishments and cars who were very unhappy that we were in their way. This was not a bikeable road, but there was really no other option, I guess. 18 miles takes a long time when there is traffic and stop lights the entire way.

Mom flew in that night, and we had a delicious Thai dinner which I had been longing for for whole states. The next day, we drove to the top of Pike's Peak, and she helped me take care of bike repairs. It was so weird to drive in a car!! I just kept checking out the shoulder of the road and thinking about what it would be like to bike on it. She ended up driving to our next day's location too. It was really hard to watch her leave. I think this is because so much of my trip had been so difficult, that seeing someone who has stood for comfort and protection and solving all of my problems was so relieving. To see that person leave so that I could continue my lonely and hard journey was hard. But obviously, I kept going, up my first mountain pass! And it wasn't so bad. About a six mile climb. I stopped about every mile or half mile to take a break, and made it up without too much trouble, to our highest point! Monarch Pass, between 10 and 11,000 feet! Coming down, we had to go across another desolate plain. Colorado was full of windy, bare plains in between mountain passes. You would get all hopeful because there was a dot and the name of a town on the map, but when you got there, there would be a little store if you were LUCKY, and sometimes nothing at all but a few abandoned houses. I don't know how anyone manages to survive living out there.

There were too many crazy things that happened I think to even tell them all, so I will organize by state.

Colorado: 3 Mountain Passes in one day - overhyped, and not as hard as you would think. The worst was freezing on the descents. Red Mountain Pass we had heard was this horrible switchback road where we could fall to our deaths easily since the drop was so sheer. I kept crying all morning because I was so afraid of a 3 mountain pass day after the day we had had prior (maybe my most exhausting of the whole trip, yet another century, but with the last 20 miles against a wind making it impossible to go more than 11 mph - and that was when I was drafting off of kind Meredith!) We also had too many places to stay without working toilets. 30 riders all consuming 4,000 calories/day and drinking maybe 300 fluid ounces of water - you do the math. We biked right past Mesa Verde AND the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, but there was no time for a detour to either place. In Durango, CO, Molly's mom cooked us a FEAST. It was amazing, and there was beer, post-ride, like paradise. Also, when you are exercising like that and probably living in a state of constant dehydration, you feel the effect of alcohol Really quickly.

Arizona: we stayed a few nights on and around the Navajo reservation. We also saw a cow walking along the road. The Navajo reservation has many feral dogs. One of them actually knocked into Mary Olive's bike and she had a pretty nasty spill (hit her head). I have seen America's heart on this trip, and boy is it unpopulated! Arizona is a surprisingly colorful place, but most beautiful in my opinion at sunset and sunrise, chiefly because it is cool enough that you can appreciate the stark beauty of the landscape without the oppressive heat taking over your mind. We saw some awesome cacti in Arizona, before we hit the Grand Canyon (uphill forever to get there of course!). Seeing the Grand Canyon was yet another time when I cried on this trip. Most days you did not realize the enormity of what you were doing. Kind of like comprehending the size of the galaxy or universe, it seemed too big to really believe. But upon seeing the grand canyon stretch out in front of me all of a sudden with no warning, I had no choice but to believe that I had in fact powered my own body from the Atlantic Ocean to this fabled place pretty close to the Pacific. In Prescott, I met up with Alan's brother Sean, which of course made me miss Alan even more because Sean was similar to Alan, but not him. (but I really enjoyed hanging out with Sean in Prescott, a really cute little town with incredible rock formations outside of it.)

California: It started to get REALLY hot as we entered Southern California. It was also my first experience with the Border Patrol, so that was quite fascinating. For the first time, I feel I have something to say from my heart about the immigration debate - to cross what we crossed on foot, evading border patrol and without a van to provide water and food like we had...I cannot imagine the desperation of someone willing to risk that. There is nothing out there but rocky moutains and little scrubby cacti. They aren't even pretty cacti - the whole landscape is brown and rocky (though of course, still hilly!!!) I think there is a picture on my webshots of the lunar landscape, maybe Martian would be more appropriate since I think it is hotter on Mars. I think Hell might look like the Desert State Park we crossed in So. CA. Then of course we had that C R A Z Y day which I don't believe I haven't written about in detail anywhere yet - a 106 mile day where we hit the road at I think 4:30 AM and got in at 9 PM. We crossed an intense desert with temps reaching 110+, our support van was in a car accident so it couldn't bring us any food or water, and we were in a desert state park (not exactly a hotbed of commercial establishments). Then, we crossed a mountain range. Then, we biked on the interstate (a tip from a local) to get to the Indian Casino we were camping at in a way that was entirely downhill (WOOOOHOOOOO!!!!), whereas everyone else had to go up this intense dirt road hill, and then down it, in the dark.

Then, on our last day, we naturally had some huge climbs, after we dilly dallied all morning thinking we only had about 30 miles to ride anyway. Longest 30 miles of my life. All of the metropolis biking is scary as heck. Our most scary days: Memphis, Colorado Springs, San Diego. Naturally, we biked on the interstate again (illegal), some got booted off by police, and Meredith flipped over her handlebars on the interstate because there were these nasty grates that would come up out of nowhere on these big downhills. She was ok, incredibly. I started to have my first major temper tantrum on this day because we made it to the Pacific Ocean; I was in emotional turmoil at having finished, and I was done biking. I mean, I was DONE, and I was also done with biking on the interstate and being in other life-threatening situations and not having any control over the route. And then, we had to bike to the church we were staying at!! AND, the directions were like, go left here to a street that sounds like this, wait is it this, it has La Jolla in it (all streets have La Jolla in their names in La Jolla), and boy I had a highly out of character anger spasm. But we made it ok, and I calmed down. And then it was 100% pure fun. I saw Kait Dunton, and drove up to LA with her and her family, then flew to Portland for a few days before going home to pack up and move to Pittsburgh.

Other bike trips I want to do now:
Pittsburgh to DC
Another cross country route someday? maybe I can convince Calicoe?

Thanks for reading, thanks for listening, thanks for supporting affordable housing financially, and thank you for your presence in my life!!
Love,
Emily