Day 15: Now That It's All Over

I'm still decompressing.  It still hasn't really sunk in that I rode across America.  This is a different feeling from what I experienced when riding up the length of the Mississippi.  I don't know if it's because that was done all in one shot or if it's something else.

I'm still feeling numb.  Literally.  My fingers on my left hand are still tingling.  That will, hopefully, go away in a couple of days as I'm no longer compressing my hands against my handlebars for hours on end.  By butt will feel better soon (yes, this go 'round, I didn't regale you in stories of saddle sores or other ailments.  Happy now?).

As always, there are so many people to thank that I will simply offer a collective "Thank You All" to the many out there who have supported me both emotionally and spiritually for this journey.  You have been there in words and actions and I have appreciated it all.  You helped me through the rains, the heat, the hills and the headwinds.  You have helped me in days when I just wondered what the hell I was out there doing.  Your comments on my blog were words of encouragement and I was very happy to share what I had seen, heard and experienced along the way.  I hope that, in some small way, you all got a sense, through my words and pictures, of what a fascinating country we live in.  And how, if you don't stop to sample a moment of it along the way, what interesting sensations you'd fail to realize are there as you travel across America.

I spoke to my son Jesse this morning.  He's about to complete the first year of the foster kids academy he's helped to set up in Southern New Jersey.  He's still overwhelmed by it all, but he reminded me of what I told him a few weeks back.  "When it's all over, just sit by yourself for half an hour and reflect on just how much you've accomplished over this past year.  Be very proud of yourself and your actions.  Then get up and get on with your life.  Figure out how you're going to make it an even better year for your kids this next year."  As he told me that, he reminded me to do the same thing for myself.

Sound advice.

I'll leave you all with one last thought…The only thing standing between you and your dreams is yourself.  No challenge is too big.  No mountain is too high or too steep.

Just get on your bike and ride.

Day 14: Manchester to Portsmouth, New Hampshire 60 miles, two hills just to remind you of where you've been

I did it!  I first started doing this at the end of my first AIDS Ride.  Ever since, it's become my custom when I finish one of my multi-day rides.

Done!  Finished!  Completed!  Three years in the making.

Mission Completed.  Dipping my front tire in the Atlantic sealed the deal.

There's so much to tell, but I'm trying to decompress, so I'll finish this tomorrow.  Just wanted to let you all know I didn't drown while dipping my front tire into the Atlantic.  Pictures to follow.

Okay, I'm back.  There's so much to say but I can't quite find all the words to express how I'm feeling.  I started the day the way I ended it yesterday.  I was running a fever and my throat was so sore my ears hurt.  I think the combination of no real sleep over the past four days plus riding in the rain as often as we did just caught up with me.  Still, there was no way I was not going to finish.  It was just a matter of hearing the voice in my head reminding me to take it just one pedal stroke at a time.  One hill at a time.  One mile at a time.

The Class of 2015 Cross Country Challenge, riders and staff.

The idea of finishing didn't hit me when I woke up this morning.  It didn't hit me when Michelle and I, as did all the others, stop for coffee or tea a couple of miles before the staging site at a local Junior High School, where we would await our police escort to the beaches.  And it didn't hit me while we were all congregating in the school parking lot.

Arriving at Wallis Sands Beach.

It hit me when during our collective, escorted ride over the last three miles to the ocean.  It actually hit me when we came over that last rise and I saw the blue/gray waters of the Atlantic in the distance.  Holy cow.  It's the Atlantic!  I'm actually there!  My heart started racing.  But that was silly because I already knew I was going to finish this.  Yet, I still felt a rush of excitement and a feeling of euphoria that produced this shit-eating grin on my face that I couldn't get off.  The last half mile, along the beach road was filled with the hoops and hollers of my fellow riders as we all started to celebrate our success.

Michelle, Jane, Me and Gene.  My buds for the past three years.  Never have I met more dedicated and fun people to ride with and to be led on such an adventure.

The next thing we knew, we were turning the corner into the Wallis Sands Beach parking lot and rode right up to the beach.  We dismounted.  We yelled and screamed.  We hugged each other.  We accepted the congratulations from both friends and family and curious onlookers.  Then we all took off our bike shoes and socks and walked our bikes down to the ocean for the last step in completing our journey.  We held our bikes over our heads in triumph.  And we then dipped our front tires in the Atlantic.  The final gesture that was the bookend to the very beginning of this trip.

Jane and I stopped talking by this point.  We just looked at each other and tears started pouring out.  It was a great ending to a great adventure.

And, just like that, it was over.  We hugged again.  We shook hands again.  Then we got our luggage and bikes and went our separate ways.  Some were staying overnight for flights back to Europe or the States.  Others were heading to the bike shop for shipping.  Some took the extra eight-mile ride into Maine to add another notch on their bike belts of states in which they'd ridden.

Packing the bike up to head back home.  Funny enough, it took the same amount of time to drive back to New York as it did to ride the 65 miles this morning.  

But we all left with a feeling of having done something extraordinary in our lives.

3851+ miles.  47 days of riding.  13 States.  Three years in the making.   This map that was posted in each motel lobby when we arrived was signed by all the riders.  

Day 13: Brattleboro, Vermont to Manchester, New Hampshire 79 miles, lots of steep hills, killer temperatures

It's really late so I'll keep this short, but will revise this in the next day or two.  We are all just now breaking up from our final dinner and celebration of our adventure together.  "Graduation" certificates, great stories from both riders and staff and a real sense of the camaraderie that is emblematic of this ride experience.

Our last SAG stop of the day in Francestown, New Hampshire.  Just loved the simple white New England church against the dark cloud background .

I didn't think, leaving the hotel this morning, that I had the legs for today's roller coaster hills, some with significant grades.  But as the day wore on, I seemed to get stronger.  In the end, I arrived an hour earlier than I would have imagined this morning.

It wasn't until later that I discovered what gave me the strength to finish the day strong.  It was the two bottles of Coke that I drank, one during the morning SAG stop, the other during an afternoon break on the porch of a general store in New Boston.  It was the energy I needed to complete the day.

So, about those stories.  Each of us was given a certificate to honor our accomplishment.  As we got up to receive them, we were asked to say a few words.  One after another, each rider spoke about the personal triumphs or challenges they had faced and what motivated them to do this ride.  Some were funny.  Some were so poignant you just couldn't hold back the tears.  All were moving and the collective spirit in the room could have lifted the building another story or two.  I was so proud to be among these people.

Tomorrow is our last day of the ride.  I'm concerned that my cold is getting worse and wondering how many bottles of Coke I'll need to have the energy to finish.  But I know I will do it.

As promised, this was taken on the day we rode out of Erie and got caught in the torrential rains and lightning storm that followed us.  We ducked into a nearby tractor shed at a local golf course.  The management were no too amused but finally allowed us to stay throughout the storm.

Emerging from safety.  The rains ended.  We were soaked, but intact.  On with the ride!

Day 12: Latham, New York to Brattleboro, Vermont 79 miles, 5435 feet of climb, 90 degrees and humid.

Yes, I broke down and let someone take my picture.  I'm in front of the "home of Uncle Sam" sign welcoming you in to Troy.  What's that shit on your helmet, Jed?  That, is my new mirror.  The one I had that attached to my handlebar doesn't work nearly as well as this one.  Michelle talked me in to trying it and, after a few days, I have to admit that I'm really liking it.

Coming out of Latham, we were quickly crossing the Hudson River and into Troy.  This is where I got giddy this morning, as I was riding on roads I've driven on many, many times over the past 15 years.  Taking the back roads through Troy on the way to Vermont was like I was riding on home turf.

One more state down, one to go.

A better welcome to Vermont.  There as an even better view from atop Hog Back Mountain but, honestly, I was so damned tired by that point that I didn't stop and take the shot.  I was fresher this morning when I took this one.

That feeling of "I know where I am because I've been here before" lasted through to our ride through the city of Bennington, where Samantha went to college.  I recalled all the shops and restaurants, including the greasy spoon diner where Sammy and I would have breakfasts together.  Great memories.

Today's route map.  While we were climbing much of the morning, that 8-mile climb up an 8% grade of an unnamed mountain nearly wiped us all out.  The sweat was dripping off of everyone so much so that one of the SAG vans pulled off halfway up the steep climb just to top off everyone's water bottles.  The second steep climb, a 3-mile run up to Hog Back Mountain, also an 8% grade, seemed much easier by comparison.  But, by then, the sun was behind the clouds and it cooled a bit.  Some of the riders descended from Hog Back at over 50 miles per hour.  Not me Johnny!

In the cute town of Wilmington, a bunch of us stopped off, between the two climbs, for sandwiches and plenty of iced tea and ice water.  The service was slow, but the food and the shade were welcome relief.

The rest of the day was not as joyous, with only a nice stop for lunch in Wilmington to take the edge off of a very hot and humid day with two huge climbs.  I've learned one thing about myself that was reconfirmed today.  I'm not a fan of riding fast down hills.  While other riders were speeding by at upwards of 50+ miles per hour down the two steep descents, I was trying to keep it under 35 miles per hour.  I'm like that with skiing as well.  Nice and easy down the hill is fine by me.  The challenge is when you're trying to keep the bike on the road and the grade is upwards of 8 - 10 % on the descents.  Wears out your brakes pretty quickly.

Tomorrow is another roller coaster day with mountain climbs and more hot weather.  But we're almost there!

Day 11: Little Falls to Latham, New York 75 miles 2133 feet of climb

Today's ride followed the Erie Canal along the Mohawk River and the historic area that played such important roles in the early days of the American Colonies as well as the development of New York State.

I took my first shower at 5:45 this morning.  My second shower came about seven miles into the ride.  Lucky me.  The faster riders (the majority of this group averages between 17-21 miles per hour!) missed most of the 20-minute deluge.  Michelle, Shane and I got soaked.  But good.

The bucolic setting along the Mohawk River.  That's Fort Plain on the far shore.

The first 50 miles was a straight shot down Route 5 through both small villages and larger cities.  It was so depressing at times as we rode through what, I hope, were once-thriving towns along the Mohawk River.  Yet today, there were numerous people just sitting on front porches or benches, drinking beer or something stronger, at 9 in the morning.  But more depressing than that was the fact that I had no gas for that first 50.  I was just so sluggish and couldn't get my body to wake up until we left the main roads for more park-like surroundings.

The Erie Canal is made up of both the narrower channels we rode alongside yesterday as well as the river systems such as the Mohawk between Buffalo and Albany.  Today, we watched as Lock #8, seen here, was put into use with boats heading down river.

We passed a massive bike tour as we approached the Canalway and Mohawk River Bike Paths.  Those riders were about to complete their Erie Canal Bike Tour, which started last week up in Buffalo.

These bike paths provided relief in two ways.  As a respite from the highway, they were a welcome change of scenery.  But, as the sun was now out and the temperatures were rising, the shade from some of the paths was grand.

I've been trying to figure out how much energy I'm expending each day.  Having jumped into the tail end of this ride, I tried to remember how much I ate in past years.  The first couple of weeks, it's a matter of too much versus not enough.  Same on this trip.  I actually think, for all that I ate and drank yesterday, it wasn't nearly enough and that's why I was so listless during this morning's portion of the ride.  [Yesterday's calorie count, assuming 79 miles at 15 mpg was 4865 calories.]

Continuing our tradition of finding local hang-outs, we stopped at Jumpin' Jacks, a famous drive-in in  Scotia, New York.  Absolutely GREAT onion rings!

So what did I eat today?

Breakfast (6:00 am):  Scrambled eggs, bacon, french toast, strawberries, orange juice and tea.
1st SAG Stop (9:45 am):  Peanut butter and Nutella sandwich, fig newtons, orange slices.
2nd SAG Stop (12:15 pm):  Cheeseburger, onion rings, lemonade @ Jumpin' Jacks.
Motel arrival (3:00 pm):  Coke Zero and a power bar.
Dinner (6:30 pm):  Grilled chicken sandwich with bacon, guacamole, lettuce and tomato; sweet potato fries, unsweetened iced tea @ Red Robin.

And, during the course of the ride, I drank the equivalent of 6, 24-oz. water bottles, four with water, two with Gatorade.

The next three days are supposed to be scorchers and we're all being warned to drink more than we think we need.  I've been drinking all day so I hope I'm well hydrated.

Day 10: Liverpool to Little Falls, New York 79 miles

The broad channel of the Erie Canal.

The Erie Canal is everything to these towns along it's length.  Murals like this one celebrating the canal and all the business associated with it are common.

Yesterday, I rode with Gene.  Today, Gene and Jane, his wife and another of our ride leaders, asked me to ride with them again.  Riding with the Emborsky's can sometimes be a matter of trading off the speed of their pace line versus seeing the sights.  Today, we got to do both.

And this has to be one of the strangest sights ever.  Billed as "The World's Smallest Church," they offer non-denominational services, but only have space for two people!  Then again, crossing over the scum-covered pond is no great invitation for prayer.

We spend much of the day riding along or around the Erie Canal.  Some of the riders, especially those with wider tires, chose to ride along the elevated tow path during one section of the ride.  Those of us with thinner tires would have had trouble on the gravel path.

We had a number of delays today -- a detour due to a bridge being closed for repairs, a funeral procession that showed the deceased was quite popular and this extremely long freight train.

When not along the Canal, we were riding through farmland and got to see some extraordinary sights.  Maybe one hundred feet in front of us on a long country road, we witnessed a young hawk do a very slow glide crossing the road and landing on the grass of a farm.  As we passed by the hawk, still standing there in the field, it just stared back at us.  No prey in sight, just taking a break I guess.

Our lunch stop today.  Part of the joys of this ride are the experiences of sights, sounds and smells we have along the way.  Tasting what's around locally is a huge part of this ride.

The local landscapers call this place home.  So you know the barbecue is good.

The ride through the countryside afforded us some unusual sites today.  But by the afternoon, we were facing a strong headwind, so having three of us taking turns pulling each other in front of our pace line was a blessing as we fought to cut through the wind.

Gene and Jane at Mondi's.  You can't see it, but right behind them is a condiments counter.  Besides the usual suspects, ketchup, mustard, mayo, pickles, there's also a can of WD-40.  Is that the special sauce Mondi uses on the chicken?!

Day 9: Canandaigua to Liverpool, New York 70 miles

A cool morning that turned into a warm, sunny day.  A very good ride.  I started out alone, but wound up riding the last 55 miles with Gene Emborsky, one of the ride leaders.  Gene is a fast rider and I spent much of the day trying to keep up with him.  We rode well and got in early, for a change!  The pictures will tell the rest of the day's story.

Seneca Lake in Geneva, New York.  As we hopscotched from Finger Lake to Finger Lake, we had beautiful views like this on our right all through the day.  Gene stopped by while I was taking this picture to suggest we ride together.

We passed through a lot of history on today's ride.  The town of Waterloo, just past Geneva, was the "birthplace of Memorial Day."  Not sure how that came to be.  We then rode through Seneca Falls, birthplace of the Women's Rights Movement in the United States.

The Erie Canal, in Seneca Falls.  The Canal will be our companion for the next two days as well.

Our one Sag Stop today was at the Montezuma Wildlife Refuge.  At the Visitor's Center, one of the Nature Guides had his telescope trained a quarter mile away across the vast marshlands on a muskrat mount, with a bald eagle sitting atop the mound, ostensibly waiting for lunch to arrive.

A single-lane bridge over the canal leading to Lake Onondaga.  

When we got into our hotel, we noticed much of the parking lot filled with vintage cars.  Apparently, the Syracuse National, an annual vintage car show and rally, is taking place down in Syracuse this weekend.  Given the sounds outside right now, I doubt many of us in the cycling community will be sleeping soundly today.  Motors are revving and people are outside partying along the line of motels on this road.

All five motels along this road are packed with vintage car owners, all showing off their prized beauties.  Apparently, the thing to do here is to ride up and down the street with fellow owners lined up along the roadway in their lounge chairs, just admiring each other's cars.