Until 2014, I’d owned a few department store bikes, mostly to ride with my kids. On July 4, 2014, I decided to go for a ride on one of them. I dug it out of the garage, put some WD-40 on the bone-dry chain (yes, I know it isn’t a lubricant, but I didn’t then!), put some air in the tires, and set off for a ride. I live at the top of a hill and rolling down that hill was awesome! I don’t think I was wearing a helmet.
Around a mile from home, as soon as I had to pedal in earnest, one of the pedals broke off – completely. The pedal spindle had snapped, level with the crank, and I didn’t have a practical means to remove the broken spindle. Dejected, I walked home pushing the bike alongside me.
When I walked in the door, I announced to my wife that I was going to go buy a bicycle. I waited a few seconds for her to lodge a protest against my impulsive behavior, but she didn’t object, so I jumped in the car and drove to REI. Within 30 minutes, I had a brand-new REI Novara Forza hybrid.
I started riding every day. At first, I was barely able to ride five miles. Decades of a desk job, a sedentary lifestyle, video games and lack of exercise had left their mark. The first time I rode five miles, my legs were shaking as my quadriceps quivered uncontrollably, and I had to rest on the steps in my house for a few minutes.
But I stuck with it and my fitness quickly improved. On August 2, 2014, I rode my bicycle to work for the first time since the 1980s. If you look that up, you’ll see that August 2, 2014 was a Saturday. I wasn’t sure I could make it up the hill to my office, so I thought it would be best to attempt it on the weekend. When I got to the top of the SR 520 hill, I could see my heart thumping in my chest through my shirt. I called my wife and told her I might be having a heart attack, and that I wasn’t joking. Naturally, she wanted to know why I wasn’t calling an ambulance. I decided to head to my office and rest before attempting the return trip. I sat at my desk for 30 minutes until my legs stopped feeling rubbery.
For the next four years I rode to work virtually every day.
On October 4, 2014, I rode my first “imperial century.” And, in 2015, my first full year of cycling, I’d ridden 9,800 miles.
By late August 2014 thanks to the Internet, I’d realized it was still possible for a middle-aged man to ride across the country, and I knew that’s what I wanted to do. When I posted a picture on Facebook of my old Trek on August 30, 2014, I already knew I’d be making this journey, but I didn’t know when. One of my oldest friends made this comment on that post:
“Walmart has them from about $80 to $150, it’s not like you will be trekking across America any time soon I am sure. Just an old man’s bike to get you around the park and back home. teehee.”
I just laughed to myself.
For the next couple years, I started where I’d left off in 1988. I quickly decided to replace my hybrid with a touring bike: A Surly Disc Trucker, and I rode thousands of miles on it, and gradually my secret plan to ride across the country became less secret.
The lure of this journey, for me, is doing it alone, and being completely self-contained. I love riding alone, I love exploring rural America, and I love meeting people.
Eventually, the only obstacles were finding free time, and convincing my wife it was safe to do it alone.
In September 2018, the first obstacle fell when I retired after 21 mostly wonderful years of as a Software Engineer at Microsoft.
I was hoping to overcome the second obstacle and receive Susan’s blessing to do it alone, but, instead of a blessing, she just stopped protesting as much, and I have taken some steps to help assure her I am safe, including carrying a Garmin InReach Explorer and using Strava’s LiveTrack (when I have phone service) and always wearing a wristband with her phone number on it!
So, on May 15, I will climb aboard my fully-loaded Surly Disc Trucker and make the 26-mile trek from my home to the Seattle King Street Station for the 70-hour Amtrak ride to Washington, DC.
When I arrive in our capitol, I will ride ten miles to the home of a childhood friend, in Alexandria, VA. Although we keep in touch, we haven’t seen each other for forty years. It will be good to catch up and renew our friendship.
The next day, May 19, my journey will begin in earnest. This is a journey that really began in 1981, when I was living in a cockroach-infested hotel in downtown San Diego.
Tree God, wherever you are, I love you.
I’ll keep you all updated on this blog, so stay tuned
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