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.