Atlantic Dip!

Celebration

Intentions Revisited

Day 27 105 miles from Vidalia to Tybee Island in 5:15. James, Pat and I flew this day off the front. We blasted the first 100 miles at 21.4 average speed with no wind assist, then waited for the group at Ft. Pulaski and slow pedaled with everyone to the beach.

Here were my intentions:

• Complete one of my 45 goals
check

• Cycle every mile of the trip (EFI = every flipping inch)
check

• Make some fantastic new friends
check

• Dig as deeply into myself as necessary to overcome mind noise that may arise regarding not completing the ride
check

• Give and receive large amounts of joy and love
check ... although there were times it was a bit more difficult than others

• Be fully present
check

• Laugh and play with my fellow riders
major check

• Keep an open heart, be Joyful Eric, delight in it all
check

• Show by my actions that much is possible
check

Two in Georgia

What it Takes

Day 26 106 miles from Perry to Vidalia, GA in 6 hours at 17.2 mph. I let the alpha dogs, the fly boys go ahead today as I wanted a slower and easy day today. I was solo most of the way and I had lovely reflection time. A day to smell the roses. I really do enjoy my company, and as Tom would say 'that's good, Eric, because you're probably the only one!'

It takes a bit of moxie, some pluck, and loads of luck to get through an event like this. Most every day you stress your body to the max, give it a few hours to recover, and then do it again. It's fascinating to watch what the body can do when asked to perform at a high level.

You need to train for the ride, obviously, and many things need to fall your way. You need to stay healthy for the month. Even a little cold could worsen and knock you out for a day. And of course, the muscles and tendons need to repair themselves nightly. You need to handle hydration and nutrition. Your butt needs to remain saddle sore free. Those sores took two riders out of the game for parts of the ride.

Your bike needs to remain in solid working order. Muscles need to stay flexible and supple. You need to keep the rubber down, and mind on the goal. Your will needs to stay focused. The weather needs to cooperate to some extent.

All this has all occurred for 17 of us, up to today. Out of the 30 who began this journey, there are 57% who will have completed the ride in full as we make it to the Atlantic tomorrow.

The Psychology of it

Day 24 Prattville to Columbus, Ga ... 115 miles in 6:35 at 17.2 mph. Another annoying day in the saddle. The rough roads really take much of the joy out of cycling. Chip seal is just crap to ride a bike on for hour after hour. And we had around 4,000 feet of climbing. But what's wonderful is to be in an interesting town, a university town, within walking distance to all a great downtown has to offer ... if only for a few hours. We usually end up on the edge of some small town, with a WalMart and a Denny's as our shopping and eating destinations.

Day 25 97 miles from Columbus to Perry in 5:30 at 18 mph. A terrific day on the bike, the group of 7 worked flawlessly together. And the roads were fantastic! The threatened storm didn't materialize, and the weather was perfect. 2 days left to ride, and we can almost taste the salt water.

The psychological aspect of this ride is interesting to watch. There are many times during the day when I feel I simply can't continue. My legs are lead, and there's just no way I can spin them around one more time. Yet, somehow I do. And then the mind goes into depletion ... and I simply want to pull over to the side of the road and take the 'ride of shame' into the hotel. Yet, somehow I don't. Will is an interesting force to experience. I said I would, so I do. Somehow.

At the beginning of today, I was running on fumes, with absolutely nothing to give. By mile 88 I was doing double pulls, hammering for 2 miles instead of one. It's just fascinating to ride, and watch the internal emotional/mental/physical ride.

The Mayor of Centreville, AL

You Wouldn't Think

Day 23 117 miles from Tuscaloosa to Prattville, AL in 7:10 at 16.2 mph. You wouldn't think there could be over 6,000 feet of climbing in northern Alabama, but rest assured, there are. And I rode each one of them today. It was ultra tough, with awful roads, heat, and annoying hill after annoying hill. Again and again we climbed these nasty hills, only to drop and have to do it again. 10 miles of fresh chip seal made it that much harder ... the rattling of my brain stem incessant.

You wouldn't think one could ride across the US and gain weight. Well, that distinction belongs to me. It's not enough that I get constant flak for being from Boulder. 'Have your wheat grass this morning, Eric?' 'You consult your crystals before you make a turn, Eric?' 'You like those vortex sites in Sedona, Eric?' Well, now the gang has more ammo. I'm the one who gained 5 pounds on this trip. I thought maybe I'd get back to the 147 I hit after Deb and I split up. Nope, I've increased from 155 to 160 lbs. 'Eric, the old guys wear bib shorts so their bellies can hang over ... that why you got a pair?' Of us 7 alpha dogs in front, I'm the only one without a concave belly. Those turds.

You wouldn't think it possible. Given that a 150lb man cycling at 15 mph on flat ground burns 600 calories per hour, and given we typically cycle 7 hours, I should be burning 4200 calories, plus the daily 2k ... around 6k calories. How could I gain weight? For starters, I'm eating food I never consider in Boulder. I've had so many chocolate milk shakes, so many cookies and candy bars it's embarrassing. Some here say it's muscle mass I've gained, but I can feel the extra weight. My metabolism has always been odd, somehow. First Ironman I ate 2 bunches of grapes. Maybe the more I exercise the less food I need. Sure seems that way with sleep. Off now to finish my pecan pie ...

Into Alabama

One on Every Corner

MS and into Alabama

Day 21 138 miles from Senatobia to Aberdeen, MS in 8 hours at 17.2 mph. A Mother's Day present of a wonderful tailwind. I rode solo most of the day, enjoying memories of Mom, feeling her with me. Delighted to have been birthed by such a strong, intelligent, capable lady. Honored to have been able to give to her, and receive so much from her. Amazed that she kept alive two most important virtues until her passing ... Curiosity and Gratitude.

Mississippi Impressions:

the sweet smells of honeysuckle, jasmine, and magnolia
far far too many mean dogs that chase bikes
possums to join all the armadillo roadkill
gorgeous lawns and large southern homes
quiet country roads
a church on every corner (one burg had maybe 7 houses ... and TWO churches!)
unending pollen as my eyes itch so much and I'm sneezing non-stop (one of my 832 sneezes pulled a muscle in my knee, fergawd's sake)


Day 22 110 miles from Aberdeen, MS to Tuscaloosa, AL in 6:25 at 17.2 mph. This just could have been the most fun I've ever had on a bicycle. We awoke to 46 degree temperature (in MS in May!) and the day quickly warmed, so the temps were perfect. Our route took us through quiet country areas, exquisite roads on which to cycle. The companionship was terrific, as the A team (James, Pat, and Norman) took it easy today and caught us of the B team (yours truly, Conrad, Frank, and Tom) after mile 60 and rode the last 50 miles with us. The hills were a joy to climb, the countryside so very lush, the sights and smells pure delight. A spectacular day of cycling!

A 'typical' day on the Tour:

Awake at 5:30am
Breakfast at 6
Luggage load at 7
Ride 40 miles to the first sag stop
Ride another 40 to the lunch stop
Ride the last 40 to the hotel
Go to fast food joint for quick 1k calories, large chocolate milkshake
Shower, stretch
Visit buddies
Eat dinner
Blog and email
Set alarm
Sleep

Wash, rinse, repeat in some new place.

My Next Bike

6 Men, 5 Bikes, 1 New State

Mike and Barbara Munk, Tom Newlin

2100 Down

Day 19 100 miles from Conway to Brinkley in an easy 5:30 at 18.1 mph. Wonderful tailwinds for most of the ride ... a bit of pace line time, loads of solo time ... and lovely quiet country back roads. An 'easy' century, enjoyable regardless those 12 miles of headwinds.

Day 20 113 miles from Brinkley to Senatobia, MS in 6:20 at 17.5 mph. A tough day in the saddle with annoying headwinds most of the day. We crossed into MS and went over the Mississippi River today. I'm cooked tonight, and anxious about the 138 miler tomorrow. After that, most days are around 100 miles, so tomorrow seems a higher hurdle. Psychologically it's tough to get up and do it again, day after day.

You know, it's interesting. There's always someone tougher, faster, more beautiful, richer, stronger, smarter, or more successful. Someone who can leap even taller buildings in half of one of your single bounds. You think you're tough for riding cross country in 25 days, then you hear about the PAC tours, and the men and women who ride in 17 days, averaging 170 miles/day, with a number of double centuries and 110 degree days in the desert.

And of course, there are the ones from a different gene pool, if not species, who ride RAAM. Across the US in 8 days. Winner last year didn't eat a lick of solid food for the ride, just drank his shakes. Rode 36 hours straight out of the gate before he took his first break.

PAC and RAAM just don't sound like fun to me. I can't imagine enjoying such a faster pace, in spite of the Krakauer sense of this journey. (Sister Colleen suggested Into Thin Hair as the title. Funny gal.)

Where's the Arc de Triomphe?

A Perfect Day in the Saddle

Day 18 125 miles from Ft. Smith to Conway in 6:20 at 19.8 mph. Smooth roads, quiet and beautiful, a fantastic pace line with 6 strong riders taking mile pulls, a 10 mph tailwind, a cool and overcast day all made for pure magic on the bike today. What a fantastic way to come out of a rest day.

A note about the Brits. We had 5 on this tour with us. Andrew was the strongest, and went home to SF with a heart attack. Of the 4 left, there is a father/son named Russ and Pete. These boys have two huge passions. Cycling and beer. Yes, beer! Every night they hit it fairly hard, and on off days they get massively pissed. Yet every morning finds them out again ... pedaling their hangovers off mile after mile. They amaze me, as the few times I've been hung over the last thing I would want to do was pedal a bike for 120 + miles.

Late to breakfast, I sit alone as the other tables were full. Newlin comes up to me, shakes his head. "Damn, Eric, it's finally happened and frankly, I can't believe it took this long. You've managed to piss 'em all off and now no one will sit with you." Bastard is so funny it hurts.

Country Roads

A Good Buddhist - Here Now

Darrell in Madrid, Darrell and Karen at lunch in Albuquerque

Darrell has left the building

Darrell Keefer –
husband, father, grandpa
friend,
18 wheel trucker
an animal of a cyclist
a man's man

the clown
joke mates we were
connoisseurs of the lewd
he was an animal on the bike
I'd pull one mile
he'd pull two

only 2 weeks
did I have the privilege
of knowing him

his transparency
so comforting
such consistency

angry when he'd get a flat
throwing his tools around
cursing

overjoyed at such simple things
watching 40-Year-Old Virgin
on tv
the night prior
laughing so hard

he pushed so hard that day
a brutally tough 125 miler
with awful winds
so he could get to Chichasha
to see his son, daughter-in-law, grandson
I could only hang with him
the first 35 miles to sag #1
off he blasted

that night, his beaming mug
so huge
pulling everyone aside to introduce
his natural family to his cycling family

his joy infectious
his strength legendary
his simplicity inspiring
a beautiful, powerful, foibled,
lovely, generous, tenacious man

Darrell died in his sleep that night
I joke with him - inner conversation
he on the other side
that he was too chicken to do the
145-miler,
a wuss
so he left his body

He laughs and pulls ahead
far ahead
and I can't catch him

3 Monster Days

Day 14 125 miles from Elk City to Chickaaha in 7:10 averaging 17.5 mph. Tough tough wind, and foolish Eric hangs with Darrell to start, then James, Norman, and Pat ... three of the fastest remaining riders. Just cooked me completely. Not a wise thing to do pre-145 miler. We cross into some beauty, some green, some wheat fields that are salve to the eyes. Quiet country roads to enjoy with scant traffic. We hit the half-way point today.

Day 15 A monstrous 145 miles from Chickasha to McAlester in 8:45 averaging 16.2 mph. I'm cooked, ready to serve. I come in near the end, a slow slow day in the saddle. Pat and I ride together and at the end he blasts off while I slow pedal the last 20. Did I mention I'm cooked?

Day 16 110 miles from McAlester to Ft. Smith, AR. in 6:45 at 16.4 mph. This was my signature day, the day I overcame huge. I've immense pride in the fact that I rode and completed this day.

I had a pile of great reasons to not ride today, to sag it in. My heart rate won't slow at night, I barely sleep and awoke with the fright of an image of me crumpling at the front of a 25 mph paceline and taking a group down with me. I needed a bag something fierce as I was totally depleted, but knew if I asked for one I'd be held out and there was a rest day after this 'short' 110 mile day. Darrell's death was hanging heavy on me. And it was raining wild. Lightening strikes, cold, and an awful road. Plenty reasons to pack it in, and all of them good ones. Yet I rode, and somehow completed the day.


And I've not yet written of the two who had heart attacks and had to leave the ride. Andrew was the toughest of this bunch. He was a monster on the bike, but the elevation and accumulation of so many miles took him down. Greg was in the hospital after day 15, the docs sent him home given his heart pains. So now 5 are gone, the ride seems like a bad Krakauer novel, and we're all feeling jinxed somehow. Enough drama, we just want to ride and enjoy.

So we rest in Ft. Smith, while it pours and thunders outside.

Kicks

Speedy Boys in OK

You saved, boy?

Dalhart to Pampa
Day 12
coverin' them there 110 miles
in 5 hours, 50 minutes
with a speed of 19 mph

Got to write Texan jus' now
got to talk like Bush Sr
pointing - makin' my point
hand sweeping forward
to show the way

short chopped sentences
'bout how flat things is
in these parts
panhandle of Texas

the good folk of the south
being real nice and such
wonderin' what the hell
us folks are up to
ridin' bikes 'cross the
whole dang country
foolishness, when you can drive
an git there so much faster

you look up flat in the
diction'ery and ya'll find
these here parts as the
def'nition

Day 13
Pampa, TX to Elk City, OK
97 miles, 5:20, 18.1 mph
payback is hell
25 mph headwinds
cold, frozen fingers and toes
get here
and it's 70 and calm
dang, now
why ain'tcha' ridin' now

Preacher man in the gas station
where we stop to get our
quart of chocolate milk
after each ride
his polyester suit 40 years old
his cross belt buckle
massive
inquires if we're all saved
and riding with God
I tell him
I sure hope so, man
I sure hope so

Ride 'em

Blown Away

Day 11 97 miles from Tucumcari to Dalhart, TX in 4:10 averaging 23.1 mph. Who ever would have thought a 97 mile day would be considered short and easy? Yes, another phenomenal tailwind made this day ever so easy. Pulling into Dalhart, one is greeted by the factory farms of beef. One good whiff cures one for life of McDonalds. There's enough methane out there to power India and half of China ... an indescribable smell.

Geoff Maxted wrote: Biking is about seeing the world from a different perspective: an escape from gray government and boring business; from the shop floor and the high rise. It's about pitting yourself against yourself and winning; forgetting - for a while - the hassles of modern life. Bills are for tomorrow. If you're not already addicted it may be, that after the first few turns of the cranks, you will hear the call and , converted, at the end of your ride the sound you'll hear is your own elemental heart applauding.

9 and 10

Day 9 135 miles in 7:30 at 17.8 mph from Albuquerque to Las Vegas. A wind neutral day, thank the lords of the breeze. 8500 feet of climbing today - tough on the legs. My favorite stop was in Madrid, an artist community loaded full up with characters, galleries, and the world's best sticky buns. We spent another 70 miles on the Interstate today, hopefully that's behind us now. I hung with the big dogs on the first long climbs, and paid the price at the end of the day.

Day 10 110 miles in 5:28 at 20.1 mph from Las Vegas to Tucumcari. A smoking fast ride. Your 'wind at my back' intentions realized. We had a constant tailwind of 25 - 30 mph, gusting to 50. It was a blast, like a rest day on wheels. This was the fastest 110 I've ever done, and were I not a downhill conservative, I could have taken another half-hour off my time. There were a few guys who broke 60 mph today on these descents. And today we hit the 1k mile mark for the ride.

Coming down Teton Pass many years ago I hit 55 mph. I looked down at the pavement, then my legs ... the pavement, my legs. Nope, the risk/reward ratio just wasn't there for me, so I backed off. I'm comfortable to 35, then I start braking.

A note about mileage. Most years I put in about 2500 miles, once I hit 4500 for the year. Well, I'm way out of my league here, for the most part. One man has already put in 10,000 miles for the year (he's 66 and rides 100 miles daily) while another has 8700 miles already completed. These are guys that commute long distances to work, ride for lunch, and ride both days on the weekends. Me, I ride when it's nice out.

Pace Line

Over the Divide

Pedal faster, now!

Iron Lady

Day 7 Gallup to Albuquerque 17.1 mph for 7:55 covering 137 miles. “That was bloody murderous!” exclaimed one of the 5 Brits on the ride. Truly an accurate description of another killer headwind day. We had a great pace line with 7 of us for the middle 100 miles, which was incredibly helpful. Taking a half-mile pull on the front of the line into that wind was tough, sucking wheel for each of us blessed relief. We passed through some lava fields, enjoyed some interesting rock formations, but mostly cursed the wind.

I've met a woman made of Iron. Karen Keefer by name. 5 years ago on this ride, someone didn't point out a board in the road. She was third in a pace line and went down hard. Over 100 stitches and 4 new teeth later she was back on the ride after 3 days off. This amazing woman is here again, and sadly went over James when he hit the rumble strips. (James isn't coming back as his eye socket is trashed and he's got some head trauma). Karen complained of a sore hip after the crash, and rode the last 35 miles to the hotel that night. Sore, indeed, it was fractured. She's out of the ride, and needs 6 weeks to recover. And she'll be back, this tough lady, to ride another day.

And now, Day 8, a needed rest day.

Headwinds, and another blog link

Day 6 134 miles (102 on I-40) 17.8 mph for 7:33. Tough tough day. Yet I'm really leery of saying this is the worst, as methinks there's much more where this came from. All those miles on the interstate were nasty, and the headwinds were atrocious. The last 50 miles gave us 20 - 30 mph head and cross winds. OUCH OUCH OUCH. I've a stitch that's been showing up at 80 miles, usually lasting until 85 or so. Today, mercifully, it didn't appear until 92. Unmercifully, it stuck around until 134. I continuously found my shoulders glued to my ears, and kept having to remind myself to breathe and relax them down my back. But mostly my body is doing incredibly well, given what I'm asking it to do on a daily basis.

We have one more long day to Albuquerque tomorrow of 145 miles, then a rest day. As Greg said we have 7 days of riding, a rest day, 8 days of riding, a rest day, then 10 days of riding before our 365 rest days.

Alan Alda is on the trip with us. OK, Bill doesn't look much like Alda, but he sounds EXACTLY like him. I close my eyes and listen to him (no, not while I'm riding) and it's uncanny.

Mike Munk is the ride leader and he's also keeping a blog with far more information, if you're interested. Here's the link.

http://bamacyclist.com/Journal2008/FastSouthjournal08/2008fastsouth.htm

Sing along time

Top of Oak Creek with Greg, Conrad, and Tom

A fifth, please

Day 5 107 miles Cottonwood to Winslow 15.8mph for 6:50 A stunning ride through Oak Creek Canyon out of Sedona. 6700 feet of elevation gain. The ride a bit bleaker after Flagstaff. About half of the miles were on Interstate 40, not my favorite. I was with a perfect group of 4 today, we were the second batch of 4 into the hotel. We took mile-long pulls all day long, worked well together and had a pile of fun.

CONRAD! CONRAD! I about fall off my bike, thinking Conrad is down. Tom wails this out every 10 miles today. HOW MANY MILES DO YOU HAVE? It’s their ongoing joke about how their computers are off. Conrad’s bike computer gives so much information it’s insane. As we rode through Northern Arizona U today I was asking him for phone numbers of the pretty ladies we were passing, their heart rates, and other vital stats. Conrad is 66, lives in southern California, and delivered Hostess Cupcakes and Snowballs for 36 years. He is now a sculptor and cyclist. He has the highest cadence of anyone I’ve every cycled with … his legs are simply a blur.

One of my all-time favorite heroes was Carl Fowler. His arthritis was so painful he retired from the forest service at 55. Watching and listening to Carl arise from a chair was to witness an act of strength and courage. Yet he never ever complained about all of his pain, nor his lack of sleep. He turned 10 acres of scrub and poison oak in the Santa Cruz hills into a magnificent Christmas tree farm. He and his wife Marion nurtured that farm for 24 years, and Deb and I were lucky enough to be around them for their last 6 years. Well, Tom looks exactly like Carl, and acts like him as well. So there’s this natural affinity for this guy. Tom’s from Indiana, and is an attorney specializing in Social Security challenges. His kids are grown, he’s in fantastic shape, and he’s a blast to have alongside.

Oak Creek Canyon

Day 4

Day 4, 103 miles, Wickenberg to Cottonwood 14.2 mph in 7:15. The most significant day of climbing for the tour. Over 9,000 feet today during the 3 climbs. Being in the AZ high country so preferable to the desert of southern CA. I was 6th into the hotel tonight, which was different. I’ve been one of the last to arrive nightly, but today, as a climbing day, hit my strength. Going through Jerome was a bit of a kick ... a tourist town clinging to the hills, reminiscent of a hillside French or Italian town.

A stated goal was to be the last rider to finish the first week, the first to finish the last week. Neither will occur. There are some significantly slower guys in the group. Only a few of them, but the 5 or 6 will probably finish slower than I shall nightly. And the flyers are amazing. There are 4 that just scream every day. Of the 4, one finished a 40k time trial in under an hour, another races with pros (Masters division) in Northern California, and one competed on his bike in the Pan-Am games. A tough bunch, and I’ll not hang with them on the road.

Sophie-Girl ... is it rubbed in?

I'm ... uhhh ... checking my handlebar tape ... yeah, that's it!

What's an apostrophe and an 'e' between friends?

3 Days Done

Day one was 121 miles from Costa Mesa to Thousand Palms, just outside of Palm Springs. 17.1 mph average, riding time of 7:15. The first 35 miles were on bike path, a fantastic way to get out of LA. My favorite bit was the 20 miles of downhill with an outrageous tailwind that blew us into Palm Springs.

After listening to Mike, our ride leader, talk for 2 hours last night about all the things that can and do go wrong, we were all quite somber. Skin, bones, and lives at full risk. He's lead and/or ridden 40 of these cross country tours, and told us that 10% of us won't make it. That's 3 of us that won't roll into Savannah. We all look around, knowing we're in the 90%.


Day two was 119 miles to Blythe. 17 mph and 7:17 of ride time. The 20 miles in the box canyon after the town of Mecca were stunning. Quiet and beautiful desert that was so enjoyable. I've a blister the size of Montana on my right foot. What a silly thing to do, start a cross-country ride with new shoes and pedals. Thanks to Noah for saving the day and shipping my old shoes and pedals out to me. And we're doing a bit of interstate riding this first week. It's wild to be next to all those 18-wheelers blasting by, and one of the tough challenges is all the wires that come out of the radial tires of those 18 wheelers and puncture our little bike tires.

Kirsten was at the post-ride meeting last night. One minute she was chipper and fine, and the next minute this strong 20-year-old girl just collapsed into her father. Off to the hospital, and two bags later she was fine. It was brutally hot out there, and the wind today only added to the challenge.


Day three was 115 miles from Blythe to Wickenburg, AZ. O blessed tailwinds, as I put together a group of 4 and we pace-lined it the whole way. Taking turns for a half-mile at a go, we completed the 115 miles in 6:13 at a smoking 18.7 mph. I was very nervous about day three. The analogy being going back to the gym after a long time away. The muscles find peak soreness on the third day. So doing this amount of time and mileage daily ... I was nervous about this day. But I feel fairly good. Some blisters here and there, plenty sore muscles, yet my energy is good, my thinking on track.


Sadly, today we lost another two. Greg got lyme disease 3 weeks ago, still came on this trip, and cracked today. He'll be back on the bike tomorrow, as will Kirsten. But Jack hit the rumble strips hard today, went over his bars, and was helicoptered to Phoenix. We'll see how he makes out, but it's doubtful he'll be back with us for a few days. So, already 3 have dropped, at least for a day.

Pacific Dip (dude, nice leg warmers!)

With Friends Like This ...

how could I not have a fantastic ride? An email from my buddy Doug arrives this am.

Morning Eric.

Well, the grand adventure is about to begin. I grew up in Newport Beach, the next town west from Costa Mesa. I wish I was there; I'd show you around, take you out for a meal at Pipes (a surfer restaurant), cruise the coast....

Yesterday, as part of my meditation, GrandAmy and I cooked up a special mojo supply depot just for you. It's stocked with a wide assortment of energetic goodies that we thought you might need. Here are a few of the items on the shelves:

Bottles of Anti-Boink potion
Cups of Courage
Pain-be-gone Pills
Super-strength Salve
Edible Endurance Bars
Perspective Pills
Humility Sweeteners (for those bitter humbling moments)
Emergency Energy Drink
Humor Boosters
Sex Fantasy Distraction Tabs

and of course the crucial ... Sore Ass Ointment

Just think of GrandAmy and she'll morph into a door. Swing it open and the storeroom of pure energy mojo is at your disposal.

Be safe and have a grand adventure!

Doug

Query

You could easily ask:

Just why did you wait until after you had spent 181 hours covering over 2,800 miles in training to get the 3-D ultra bike fit done at The Boulder Center for Sports Medicine?

Just why did you buy new shorts, gloves, pedals, and biking shoes as you were almost done with your training?

At which point I would struggle, stammer, and stutter ... lamely offer some excuse about not planning ahead very well, or that I'm from Louisiana, or that I need a good excuse or six, just in case ...

Donation Station for the Ride

I want this ride to be about more than just riding my bike across the US . Given there are many solid philanthropic organizations out there, it was difficult to choose one. I've settled on a terrific local organization that's doing great good on the planet. Global Greengrants by name, and you can find them online at greengrants.org. They have a fantastic model for making micro-focused difference-making grants. It's been 8 years since I hit you up for a donation to a wonderful cause, I hope you've been saving your ducats.

My request is that you donate at least a penny to Greengrants for every mile I ride, equal to $29.01. If you wish to give more, well, 2 pennies a mile is $58.02, and so on. If you can't donate, no worries. You now know of one more wonderful organization when your time comes to give back. Here is their donation page, go directly to them if you wish: http://www.greengrants.org/about.giving.html.

The Monarch Butterfly of Athletes

In the past, were it 69 degrees, it was too cold. At 86 it was far too hot. I've spent the past 10 weeks riding in non-stop and often ferocious winds, snow, and freezing cold. How a goal can change a man. I now own more cold weather gear than I ever knew existed.

Triathlete buddies called me the "wetsuit weenie" in Santa Cruz. They would happily swim the mile around the pier in their Speedos while I was wrapped in enough neoprene to strangle a walrus.

And at times I have opted to stay indoors on the trainer these past weeks. Of the roughly 2800 miles I've ridden, about 1100 were on the trainer given the depth of snow, speed of wind, or height of tall buildings I couldn't leap in a single bound.

Not one but TWO pairs of booties

2008

Yes, not a blog in any typical sense. A cycling blog, of sorts. And now for the next new and improved adventure ...

And then they were Kiwis

After 3 years of hoops and paperwork, we were finally awarded residency for New Zealand. As the NZIS went to put the pages into my passport, they noticed that it was full. One silly little final snag, but I was able to return to the US and get the stamps at the NZ Embassy in DC. This may be simply a legacy move, or maybe we’ll move there on a more permanent basis, we’re unsure as of now. We do know there are far more opportunities for our kids here in the US, so we’re not anxious to rush off anytime soon with them. And now that we have that in hand, Debra and I have started our divorce petition amicably. We continue to be great friends, and yet the form has changed, so we’ll recognize it legally.

Those Wacky Wicked Campers

White Knuckled Sophie

If it goes fast, Sophie's all for it. If it's scary - bring it on. Thus we found ourselves at Tahunanui Beach in Nelson on the go-kart track. The two of us were cutting it up as fast as we could, having a blast zipping around the track, trying to overturn our karts. And a week later, in Cardrona just south of Wanaka we hit the ATV's and rode them through the bush. Fording streams, climbing hills, and blasting across the dirt tracks with these powerful machines between our legs was a howl. My daughter, the petrol head.

The Southern Alps

Lake Wakatipu

A stunning ride

The People on the Path

Such wonderful characters everywhere.

Peter ... the 71-year-old Scot who has cycled in NZ or Thailand or Malaysia for 5 months these last 16 years, and has been a YHA member since '51. His deep blue eyes sparkle as he gushes over humanity ... how terrific people are, how interesting everyone is, how great it is to be alive.

Isobel ... the 78-year-young tennis playing, Eric-bashing, entertaining lady of the lake from Wanaka.

Qin Chong (Cindy) the 24-year-old Chinese girl studying English here in New Zealand. She laughed heartily at my 'women are a complete mystery' joke (you want that bridge two lanes or four?) and then turned to me in all seriousness and said 'Eric, you know ... that's true. I don't even understand myself about half of the time.'

Peter ... the solitary squatter whose dancing blue eyes revealed an amazing life on the path less traveled. He's lived in a 6 x 10 foot shack on a hillside north of Kaikoura for over 25 years now, with permission. The land is too steep for sheep, so Peter has made himself a home. He lives on $20/week, going into Christchurch once a month for supplies. Sadly, he lost his wife 8 years ago when she was headed to the ocean on a stormy day. The wind was gale force, the surf pounding, and she stepped on the railroad tracks at precisely the wrong moment. Yet he continues to laugh, tell terrific stories, read his books, and enjoy his hermit existence.

Maria ... the 25-year-old Sweedish fashion designer and ex-model. She told me could have been a very rich girl by now had she continued with her modeling career. But she hated the objectification and the fact her wicked intellect wasn't appreciated. So she became a fashion designer and is changing the industry from the inside. She's just sold everything and is moving to Australia to start over, tired of the long Scandanavian winters.

Peter (yeah, a load of them on this trip) from Austria. He's about to build a health center in Nelson after having an early and successful career in building and construction in Vienna. He gave me one of the deepest massages I've ever received at the end of my cycle tour.

Cathie ... the elegant, artistic, Chagall loving, creative woman who so graciously entertained us and who has a terrific website at www.jumpingtangents.co.nz for interesting and different gifts.

Our Property in Nelson

Debra did an amazing job planting over 170 trees on our property just outside of Nelson. It's such a huge draw for me to just sit on that magical piece of land, look out over the Tasman Sea, and dream of the house that will soon grace this 1/2 acre. It feels so much larger, given the mature landscaping that borders the site, and the slope that goes down to the sometimes running creek.

Noah wants a water feature and a swimming pool on the land, Sophie wants a skate park. It's so much fun to dream of what we want to create on Clairmont Heights.

Although Debra and I have split up, we are both very excited about having a home here in New Zealand. I'd like to help build this home starting in 3 years or so.

The Far South

On my last trip here, I didn't get to Stewart Island or Golden Bay. Opposite ends of the island, of course. So off the the south I went.

If you've not seen the movie The World's Fastest Indian with Sir Anthony Hopkins as Burt Munro go out and rent it tonight! It's a terrific tale of one of Invercargill's more notorious characters. And in speaking to someone in town who knew Burt, this old codger just shrugged his shoulders and stated that there are many such folk living in Invercargill.

On Stewart Island I stayed with another interesting man. Pete's been a fisherman and has traveled the world shearing sheep. At 65 he's selling the family farm on the island to move to Uruguay. Ain't that wonderful! His adventure continues.

Traveling with Debra

This trip was put in place prior to us splitting up as we needed to complete some residency requirements. Sophie was going to spend 5 weeks with me here while Deb and Noah returned to the US on January 1st. But that would put Debra and Sophie apart for 10 of 11 weeks. So Debra and Sophie stuck around until the 10th of January and we went back to Wanaka, lovely Wanaka, for a week. With this change I now get to cycle around for a month while Boulder is covered in snow and ice. A partial redux of my trip from 2 years ago.

It's interesting to be traveling with my ex. We were best friends for 25 years, and I suspect we'll remain great friends. There were one or two awkward moments as we continue to discover this new way of being together, but mostly we experience huge compatibility. I've a friend in CA who told me he knows of not one couple that has divorced without animosity. I told him he does now. We continue to take a very high road, treating each other with great respect.

And it was delightful to have our holidays together as a family in Nelson just down the road from our property. Wonderful to get to walk up to our property at all hours of the day to watch the light, listen to the birds, enjoy the native forest Debra planted, and view the Tasman Sea.

Happiness

This hermit comes to town every few days to resupply. He is such a delightful and happy character, spreading joy to everyone he meets. One day one of the villagers asks how it is he is so happy, and he responds it's because he touches grief every day.

Certainly that speaks to so much of 2006 for me, not my year. It's great to be in 2007. My appetite returned, I'm sleeping, and I'm my upbeat self again. I don't know about the spreading joy, though. I pay attention to what I'm teaching, in case it's true we teach best what we most need to learn. I've always felt I landed on the wrong planet ... I was aiming for one where peace and goodwill reigned. Thus my teaching of and practicing joy.

And I'm happy to be back here in NZ. This is a lovely spot. It's joy to be on my bike or out in the wildnerness hiking (actually on this trip I'm far more focused on tramping). I'm delighting in the warmth, the daily adventures, the wonderful connections that occur, the rekindling of old friendships, making new ones.

And it's interesting to revisit places we spent time as a family. I ponder ... and I wonder so much about my time with Noah and Sophie ... did I know how much fun we were having? Did I remember to hold on as tightly as possible to the joy of our days together? Did I suck all the marrow out of each day possible? I think not ... I think I took too much for granted. And I'm sad about not getting every ounce of joy out of every possible moment. And what a great reminder for today.

And Then Two Years Pass

Fast forward almost two years ... in a quick blink.

A Goal Accomplished

It all starts with a goal. Mine was 2,000km, or 1,200 miles. That equalled a loop around the south island along the main roads. I didn't do a loop, given the back roads and out and back rides I took. But the distance was my key. And I cycled 1,210 miles.

And after a month of being away from Debra, Noah, and Sophie, it is wonderful to be back at home.

So now it's time to plan the next adventure!

Rob Roy Glacier with Jakub Green.

Sophie skates Kaikoura, before I started cycling. One of the world's most beautifully located skateparks.

Careful now, you dawg.

These NZ roads are tough on bikes.

Moana to Motueka ... Animals, Insects, Observations

It all starts with a name. New Zealand is known as the land of the long white cloud. There were 70 million sheep here just a few years ago. But these days there are 30 million less sheep, and they are exporting the same amount of meat. Better husbandry I'm told. Now what husbandry has to do with shearing and slaughtering ... well, that's another story.

What's important about all those sheep is their weight. It's necessary to keep this island from floating into the heavens, into the land of the long white cloud. So what gives? Well, all those sheep didn't want this lovely island to float away, and they missed home. So they reincarnated. As busses. There are now 30 million busses running around the south island, going hither and yon filled with tourists. A few Americans and Europeans, and mostly Japanese. I think every one has passed me ... twice.

And what of all those sheepherders you query? Bus drivers, of course.

*****

It all starts with the olympics. My helmet was cracked upon arrival, so a new one procured. This new helmet is more hole than helmet. And for some reason it's a bumble bee magnet. I think I would win the gold in the helmet removal event in the olympics. My practice runs have delighted a number of drivers to date.

NZ has no mammals, no snakes, nothing to poison or tear one limb from limb. It's a wonderful mystery. Yet it's possible, nay, inevitable to get eaten alive down here. Sandflies the culprit. Their nasty bites itch powerfully for weeks.

*****

And it starts with the green, in a hundred shades. Dripping green, so moist, so tall, thick on both sides of the road. Threatening to devour me and the road. What delight to pedal through these west coast roads. This rain forest is lush, so prehistoric. Were a brachiosaur to cross the road in front of me I'd scarcely be surprised.

*****

Today, an 85-miler from Murchison to Motueka presented me with the following to observe and enjoy. Palm trees, magnolias, mimosas in bloom, firs, pines, cedars, and a hundred other types of tree ... ripe fruit ... blueberries, plums, cherries, apples, pears, kiwifruit, raspberries. Lush ferns. Fields of corn and hops. Vineyards. Stunning valley views, mountain vistas, ranges of hills. Beaches. Too many streams to remember. A magnificent river valley. This was one memorable day to ride my bike in New Zealand.

Wanaka to Moana ... What the Schist?

It all starts with mud ... and sand. Add 200 million years, give or take, significant heat, pressure, and you end up with schist. What's so great about schist? It's all about the water color in some of the lakes and streams here in NZ. I get excited when I see this color. It's a fluorescent luminescent blue-green that looks otherworldly. Unreal is this color, pure the delight. It's the schist flour that gives the water this lovely hue.

And it all starts with language. Although English is spoken here, it's quite a dialect, a distant cousin to that I speak. Oft I have to repeat myself, and have to ask once or twice for a repeat. Some accents are so strong, I have to key in with all my intent to understand. Here's a key to help with your visit.

Some key terms:

Tea ... dinner
Cuppa = tea, or coffee
F**k = self explanatory (se)
F**kLots = se (common in many sentences)
F**kAll = se (many Kiwis curse, a LOT)
Bra Fence = that 1/10th mile section of fence near Cardrona with bras hung upon it
Tuapatere = the town in which I own a sawmill, won in a pool game
Tuapatere Sawmill = that business I gave back to the owner after discovering it had $8m in debts, and needs a NZ$200k resource consent permit
Eh! = not a question as our neighbors to the north annunciate, rather a statement
Good on Ya = se
Good as Gold = se
Pudding = dessert
Lollies = candy, including lollypops
Dunedin = that city that received a month's worth of rain in 20 minutes, word is the stockbrokers were filing into an ark two by two
Mail Carriers = you just gotta' love a country where the mail is delivered by bicycle!
Music = all the hits from the 70's and 80's play on the radio, no wonder NZ seems back in time
Dear = pricey, expensive (and I thought all these Kiwi women were flirting!)

Te Anau to Wanaka ... The Soapbox

It all starts with a question ... some more tentative, some bold and disbelieving.. 'How could we elect that guy again' they all wonder. Into my tirade I launch, mainly heartbroken over our occupation of Iraq. The lives wasted, the country destroyed. What could we do with over 1 billion dollars every week? Think of a problem on the planet, and I guarantee with a few billion and some time to implement, we could solve most if not all of it.

So I go into fantasy. Given the recent state of the union speech, I've been thinking some about the one I'd like to hear before I die. Let's say it's 2016, and it would go something like this:

******
Fellow citizens of the US, and of this planet. I'm proud and honored to stand before you tonight, to serve you for another four years. We live in a phenomenal time, and this is a most talented, rich, intellectually powerful and capable group of citizens I represent. Four years ago you elected Hillary and I on a platform of sustainability and peace. I'd like to jump right into my report card. We set an incredibly aggressive set of goals 4 years ago, and I've given myself an 87% score for our success. I don't know if 100% is possible in these next 4 years, but we're aiming for just that. You can read detail on everything I mention tonight, as well as on how we came up with the score at barackobama.prez.

In 2012, our base year, we set a number of areas of priority. In no particular order of importance, I'll briefly assess our successes and failures. Firstly, we've had some terrific results from our scientific competitions. Setting up groups of competing scientists and giving them 100 million dollars was very controversial, as you all remember. Yet look at what the winning solar group accomplished. In just 3 years, they created and we have now licensed paper thin photovoltaics, easily retrofittable, that create electricity at just under 3 cents per kilowatt hour. And winning the bonus prize of 300 million dollars, along with licensing fees, was certainly great motivation.


Lester Brown, our Secretary of the Environment, is also very proud of the wind initiative, and we are now generating 38% of our electricity from wind. That's above our goal of 35% by 2015. He's doing wonderful work on soil and water conservation as well. Another major goal of ours was to become independent of foreign oil. We've not quite reached success there, but the new carbon fibre trucks and autos coming off the assembly lines today are getting an average of 124 miles/gallon. The hybrid technology continues to improve. We'll continue to get the old cars off the road, and hopefully have complete phase out of gasoline engines in autos and a full hydrogen fleet by 2020.

Warren Buffett has done remarkable work as Secretary of the Treasury. It's always a learning experience to be around this man. Our dollar is as strong as it's been in many decades, our budget and trade deficits have turned to major surplus, and our trade policy now favors the working poor around the world. And I'm proud to announce that the top tax rate will drop to 30% as of this calendar year, and there will be no income taxes on those earning less than $65,000 annually.

On to AIDS. I promised a reduction of 70% infection rates during my inauguration speech. We've not done our job there, and you can read the detail at the web site. But we've reduced infection rates by 63%, we know why we fell short of our goals. We're working hard to get to our 2020 goal of 95% reduction in infection rates from the base year.

Vice President Clinton has done a stellar job with health care reform, and social security management. We decided to not appoint any new committees to study the issues, as had my previous 6 predecessors. We jumped into implementing strategies. I'm happy to say that social security is completely solvent, and our universal health care system now takes care of all of our citizens. She's done wonderful work.

And finally, I'd like to talk about the most controversial, and most personally most exciting area of challenge we've undertaken. That, of course, is the transformation of the Department of War (Defense for some of you) to the Department of Peace. Wesley Clark is doing a fantastic job there. It's been a tough tough fight, and a very rocky road. The FBI and the CIA have been almost completely disbanded. And the major defense contractors have mostly made the transition to peacetime manufacturing. The solar and hydrogen initiatives have provided many jobs for those who worked in the industry. And denying companies the chance to outsource also created significant job growth. The wind turbine and solar flat panel industries have also absorbed many of those displaced.

And now, for these next four years, I'd like to briefly mention my main focus, my largest goal. I call it the 90/90/90 plan. We are going to bring 90% of the world's population clean water, enough food, and primary education by 2016. Working closely with the UN, we think these goals are achieveable over these next 4 years. You elected me on the promise we'd work on these issues, and we are beginning this month to roll out the working groups in various target countries. As we learned from our debacle in Iraq, and many other countries prior to that, you can't bring democracy to a country at the point of a sword. So we continue to strive to be a shining light, and example to the world.

Thanks, and may what ever diety you pray to bless you ... be it Krisna, Buddah, Allah, God, or whomever. Now, let's get back to work.

******************

OK, OK ... I'm not a speech writer. And for now, back to our regularly scheduled presidency. But I can dream ... O, how I do dream.

Oh, yeah ... the cycling's been astounding and fantastic. The 57 mile out and back from Queenstown to Glenorchy defies description. It's obvious why Peter Jackson used it so much for Middle Earth, it's magnificent. And the Crown Range ride from Wanaka to Arrowtown and back was a wonderful grind.

My two days in Wanaka sadly come to an end. This town continues to astound. Being in the warm embrace of the Green family was pure delight ... I will miss them.

Bluff, New Zealand - the bottom of the South Island.

Well, ummmm, it used to be ...

Dunedin to Te Anau

It all starts with a dance ... many of them.

The man dances with his machine. Are the wheels true? Tubes inflated, tires treaded, gear packed well? Bike clean, chain lubed, spokes tight?

The man dances with his thoughts. Dreams of a potential future life here in NZ. Remembrances of fine times with family and friends. Good vibes to Mom. Is he connected to the amazing scenery or in his head? Is he like the pastor thinking about making love to his wife while giving his sermon, and thinking his sermon while making love? Or is he riding, breathing, watching, listening? Ah ... the dance of the mind.

The man dances with Trust. With hunks of metal weighing between 1 and 10 tons blasting past, sometimes within inches, trust is a given.

The man dances with newfound friends. Mark delights with his solid personality, Sonny clobbers him into less knee pain, Jenny and Peter are superior hosts and gracious tour guides of the magnificent Catlins, Pablo guides him through wonderful back roads, Roz drives him over 10k of gravel. These Kiwis are damn proud of their country, and have every right to be.

And today I meet a leprechaun of a Brit, DeanO by name, who blows it all away. See, I had spotted him at Riverton, and thought HA, who would be foolish enough to bike in those heavy boots. Who could possibly have such a clean bike ... he's bussing it around. Especially when he turned up ahead of me on the road. We end up together, and spend an afternoon cycling and drinking beer. DeanO, my friends, has spent most of the last 10 years cycling the world! He has just a tad more gear than me, but carries a tent and sleeping bag. DeanO, o quick to judge dancer, sleeps in the forest every night. DeanO shaves washes and spends a full hour each night cleaning his bike. DeanO is living in the lap of luxury on a most ever in his life NZ$20/day (US$14) and may have just found his dream job taking tourists on mountain bike explorations. DeanO is as cool as the other side of the pillow.

The man dances with pain. Knees bark, the neck growls, and mostly the right glute bites large. How much is too much? When to stop, when to keep pushing through. When to hit the vitamin A(dvil).

The man dances on his bicycle through some of the most spectacular scenery. Quiet roads, rainforest, stunning mountains, spectacular lakes, rivers that take his breath away they are so beautiful.

And he dances with the grace of privilege, the grace of this magnificent adventure.

Christchurch to Dunedin

It all starts with that first mile. Out of the Christchurch Airport on a busy Friday afternoon, after a sweet and teary family departure, a nervous Eric wobbles onto the road. No support van to carry my gear, I'm lugging panniers that feel like huge watermelons attached to my bike.

And it all starts with brazons, or lack thereof. Given I'm on a titanium bike, built for speed and not touring, those precious little nuts were not welded onto my frame. Thus, a seatpost rack. Thus, a weight limit of 25 lbs. And even that is far too much. So here in Dunedin I attack every scrap I'm carrying, and drop all that's not critical. Can I take all my multivitamins and niacin now and hope it releases into my system over the month? Do I need this much chain lube and shampoo? We're down to grams here. Do I need that other pair of shoes? No. That 4th pair of socks, the bike lock, the extra shirt? No, no, no. 2.34 kilos gone back to Christchurch to await my later arrival. That's 5.148 pounds of stuff I won't be hauling up the mountains starting tomorrow.

The conversation rolls around in my head about how many miles I need to put in daily to reach my mileage goal, how far on the map I need to cover to reach my desired stopping points. Yet when I opened the cycling guide, the author suggested 6 months as a good amount of time to explore this island. Tempting, but unrealistic at this point.

The cycling thus far has been a solid warm-up. An incredibly busy Hwy 1 between the 2 largest south island towns. Chip seal they use on their roads, which makes for tire noise that's deafening. So I wandered off as much as possible to find sealed parallel roads, with some success, and two notable failures. Today, a rest day, and my knees are very appreciative.

For Starters

It all starts with a woman, a magnificent woman who says yes. One wonderful enough to hold down the fort while I play for the month of February. A woman who supports me in having my dreams come true. For this dream is #1 on the list, that evolving list of 45 things I want to do before I die, begun on my 45th birthday.

Number 1 is a month spent cycling the South Island of New Zealand. 1900 km in 28 days ... in some of the world's most incredible scenery imaginable. And the list is in its infancy, being created and honed over this next year.

My intent here to inform and entertain, and I hope you're both.

And let me write a bit of a phenomenal man ... Ron. This man is pure hero. We spoke today for the first time, and I'm humbled and astounded. He's had a series of strokes that have rendered his right side a wasteland. Each step a marathon ... a stumbling wobbling gyrating impossible shift of weight and gravity that leaves a spectator breathless, awaiting the inevitable fall ... which never seems to come. Twice daily he teeters and shuffles along the sidewalk, going the 1 km to the store and back for his exercise. He said he does it to survive, to get his exercise. He also swims and bowls weekly, and will let you know that there are many worse off than he.

I'll carry him with me as I hit the hills, the winds, the sore butted hard times ... and I'll smile in awe.