Cycle Through America 2011

Home At Last

I have been home for a week via Delta, but my bike came home today via UPS.  It reminded me that I promised another post.

 

We rode 21 of 24 days through parts of 13 eastern states.  According to CrossRoads' cue sheets, we rode 1,594 miles; according to my odometer, I rode 1,643 miles.  The difference is explained by computer calibration and bonus miles that I rode deliberately or otherwise.  I got one new mirror, three new tubes and two new tires during the ride.  I got a new personal record for my fastest 100-mile ride, under five hours on October 7 in North Carolina.  Most importantly, I enjoyed the company of old and new friends and all of them finished safely.

 

Compared to the 2008 LA-to-Boston trip (XC08), the 2011 Eastern Seaboard trip (ES11) was about half the time and distance (~1,600 miles in 24 days vs ~3,400 miles in 48 days).  Maureen and I liked the shorter time away from home.  The average daily mileage was about the same (78 vs 79 miles per day).  XC08 had about eight times as much vertical climbing as ES11 (146,000 feet vs 18,000 feet); in fact, after the seventh day, and from central New Jersey southward, ES11 was very flat and the biggest climbs were on bridges.  The longest day on ES11 (118 miles to Charleston) was not much longer than the longest day on XC08 (115 miles across the Mojave into Arizona) but it was flatter and cooler.  On XC08, we saw two oceans, but only twice - on the first and last days.  On ES11 we saw only one ocean, but on a dozen days.  There were no ferry rides on XC08; there were four on ES 11.

 

My average rolling speed on ES11 was 16.4 mph; on XC08 it was 15.0 mph.  I'd like to think the increased speed was because I am now a stronger cyclist, but I think the flat roads and frequent tailwinds had more to do with it.  My maximum ES11 speed was 49.2 mph in Connecticut, about the same as my XC08 maximum of 48.7 mph in New Mexico.  The NM hills were longer both up and down, but the CT downhills were steeper.  On XC08, we had four helmet-cracking crashes which took riders off the bike for two days or more.  On ES11, no helmets were cracked and no riding time was lost because on crash-caused injuries.

 

ES11 could not match the WOW factor of riding across the whole USA from the Pacific to the Atlantic.  But we did recapture the simple life of eat-sleep-bike and the satisfaction that comes from riding many miles in all sorts of weather and getting faster and stronger while doing it.  We did recapture the joy of experiencing varied scenery and local foods, accents and customs.  We enjoyed each others company, humor and support.  I don't have final figures for the donations made to Catholic Charities during the ES11 ride.  But I, the CC staff and the families that will be helped by your donations are grateful for your generosity.  Thank you for your your prayers and support.

 

Have a safe ride and a good day.

Rolling Near the Dogs and Hogs

We left St. Augustine at 8:00 for an overcast, but dry, smooth flat 53-mile, wind-assisted ride to Daytona Beach and the end of the tour.  There is a group of a half dozen riders who often like to go fast, though they are not always first to the hotel.  Some others call them the "Big Dogs" and dream of keeping up with them.  For a variety of reasons (maybe there was no reason for the Big Dogs to race on a short day; maybe some - reluctant for the tour to end - took it easy; certainly there were many ocean views that might tempt one to ride at less than top speed), many of our riders stayed within sight of the Big Dogs as far as today's SAG stop.  After the SAG, the normal order of riders was restored.  As we rolled south, we saw more and more motorcyclists riding to the Harley rally in Daytona Beach.  We fit right in, being on two wheeled machines, but we could hardly hear ourselves.  All cyclists completed the ride safely.  We are busy preparing for departure tomorrow and a final celebration tonight.  I will take a couple of days off from posting, then give some final statistics and impressions.  Thanks for your support of the riders and of Catholic Charities.

I Love When a Plan Comes Together

I was up at dawn to photograph the 7:28 sunrise over the Atlantic with pelicans flying and a boarder paddling.  At 9:00 we started our 58-mile ride to St. Augustine.  We began with a smoothly paved bike lane heading south with ocean views through residential neighborhoods and state parks.  By only two minutes, we missed the 10:15 ferry across the St. John River and feigned dismay by clawing at the gate while our companions pulled away from the terminal.  But only a half hour later we got the next ferry for the ten minute crossing.  From there, Bob, Larry and I rode together.  The bike lane continued with few interruptions through a commercial strip in eastern Jacksonville.  But further south the traffic diminished and the ocean views resumed, now with a tailwind.  We rode to St. Augustine where we stopped at the Fountain of Youth.  63-year-old, salt-and-pepper bearded Charlie was already there, having gotten his "before" photo taken while drinking therefrom, and waiting for a younger male to put on his jersey for the miraculous "after" photo.  Larry headed for the hotel pool, while Bob and I headed for a DQ lunch two blocks from the hotel.  This is what I imagined Florida biking might be.  We have one more day to learn if this was normal or aberrational.  (No cracks about aberrational bike riders.)

Georgia Sunshine and Florida Peaches

Today was what I imagined autumn weather in the south might be: 71 degrees and mostly sunny for our 9:00 departure from Brunswick, GA and - 61 miles later - 82 degrees and mostly sunny for our 1:00 pm arrival in Fernandina Beach, FL.  Along the way we again and for the last time rode many miles on US Route 17 which has often offered heavy traffic, tooth-rattling rumble strips, and monotonous scenery.  Today the road was better, though there were still many log-carrying trucks speeding by us.  For scenic variety we saw a dead bobcat.  A friendly Georgia pick-up driver deliberately accelerated while passing us and so blew a cloud of black smoke on us.  Fortunately the breeze dissipated it quickly.  We crossed some railroad tracks so rough that they jolted the cover off my rear light, but I heard the plastic hit the pavement and soon retrieved it.  At 11:50 am, a half dozen of us rolled across the St. Mary's River bridge and into Florida.  So now the CrossRoads jerseys which say "Maine to Florida" are true for us.  In the final miles of today's ride, we passed a farm stand offering peaches.  So today we saw sunshine in the Peach State of Georgia and peaches in the Sunshine State of Florida.  A modest climb up and over the Amelia River bridge brought us to our hotel on Amelia Island just 0.1 mile from the Atlantic Beach.  Everyone is safe and we have just 111 miles to go over the next two days.  Life on a bike is good.

This Train Stops For No Train But That Train

Wednesday, we left our Savannah hotel at 8:00 am in warm, humid fog for our 82-mile ride to Brunswick, GA.  Within ten minutes we were at a railroad crossing 2.3 miles from the hotel.  Twenty minutes later we were still 2.3 miles from the hotel.  A freight train with no head or tail visible to us was stopped at the crossing.  We cheered when the train moved slowly left and groaned when it moved slowly right.  Eventually it again moved left with gathering speed and cleared the crossing so we could resume our ride in earnest.  After clearing city traffic, some of us formed two pacelines, or trains, of four each in order to share the work and the benefit of drafting into a SW headwind for 30 miles to the SAG stop.  Just out of the SAG, I stopped to photograph some marshes and the "Smallest Church in America."  In a moment, the pacelines were past me and I did not see them again for the rest of the ride.  I paid for my photos by riding solo into the wind for another 30 miles until the route turned out of the wind to the hotel.  At "route rap" we discussed not only Thursday's ride into Florida, but parting arrangements in Daytona Beach on Saturday.  The tour is nearing its end.  For dinner we split up depending on our taste for barbecue, Italian or seafood.  Six of us chose Captain Joe's Seafood Restaurant where every page of the menu (including the beer and wine list) warned of the risks, including death, of eating undercooked seafood.  Nonetheless, we put our lives in the chef's hands by ordering various fish, all - it was to be hoped - properly cooked, and hush puppies (fried balls of corn meal, a southern specialty).  So far we have avoided the fate of Captain Joe himself who sits stuffed and motionless on a couch by the cash register.

The Mighty Eighth

I spent most of my rest day in Savannah at the Mighty Eighth Air Force Museum and Library.  The exhibits and videos gave a good general sense of what it was like for US air crews based in England and flying missions over occupied Europe during WWII.  For me the visit was particularly highlighted when the librarian helped me find a photo of my uncle and his B-17 crewmates with a list of the crew's 36 missions in 1944.  When I get home, I will share details with my cousins.  But first, tomorrow, we will pedal 82 miles to Brunswick, GA.  The forecast is dry; the road is flat.  Let's hope for safe riding during the last four days of the tour.

APB: Almost Perfect/Perils Bulletin

This morning's TV reported: (1) a high surf advisory; (2) a heavy rain advisory; (3) a flash flood warning; and (4) a tornado watch, for all or some of the counties through which we were to ride 46 miles from Beaufort, SC to Savannah, GA.  However, the danger of forest fires was low, so we decided to ride.  In fact, we had liquid precipitation most of the morning.  Sometimes it rained cats, and sometimes dogs, but never both at once.  The Georgia stateline sign was on a two lane bridge with heavy traffic and no shoulder, so I had to skip a stateline photo for the first time on this tour.  But soon after we had a photogenic suspension bridge high over the river with a view of Savannah.  We washed our bikes and ourselves, then - during a break in the rain - Mike, Charlie and I walked to lunch at a sidewalk cafe under an awning.  The mileage was not high today, but the weather and traffic adventures were plentiful; nobody asked to pedal additional miles.  Tomorrow is a rest day to explore Savannah before we resume riding.  There are just four more riding days to go until Daytona Beach.

NC - SC, Beaufort - Beaufort, Let's Call the Whole Thing Off

There's nothing like a long, sound sleep after a 120-mile day to make an 80-mile day seem like a recovery ride.  As we pedal south and west and later into the autumn, all three factors combine to delay sunrise.  So now our usual departure time is at 8:00 am, thirty minutes later than in New England.  As we left Charleston today, it was in the mid-60s and overcast with an increasing chance of afternoon rain, so we were glad for the fourth consecutive day of brisk tailwinds and for the considerable breaks of sunshine.  We rode much of the day on Route 17, but when we were able to get off onto parallel roads with less traffic we passed many churches holding services today, and the ruins of one 18th century church camouflaged by Spanish moss and defended by mosquitos.  We briefly turned north (and were reminded how much harder the last four days might have been with headwinds) before turning south again for the last wind-assisted 10 miles into Beaufort, SC, beating the afternoon showers by 1 or 2 hours.  About four days ago, we rode through Beaufort, NC where it is pronounced "Bo-fort."  But here in SC, the name is pronounced "Byu-fort."  We have three Carolinians on this ride, but none of them can explain the difference.  Maybe tonight I'll have to-may-toes; or maybe I'll have to-mah-toes.  Either would be fine so long as they don't call dinner off.

Charleston, Where the Ashley and Cooper Rivers Meet to Form the Atlantic Ocean

This was the longest day of the tour: nearly 120 miles to Charleston, SC.  We were helped by flat roads, comfortable temperatures (59 rising to mid-70s) and another day of NE tailwinds.  But it was still a long day coming on the heels of yesterday's long ride.  Most of the way we rode on Route 17, but occasionally we rode on parallel roads with ocean views.  At SAG 1, we were surprised by a visit from Meredith Johnson, an alum of XC08 who was vacationing nearby and stopped to see us.  At SAG 2, we rolled into a gas station - general store just before a hundred motorcyclists on a breast cancer awareness ride rolled in.  We exchanged stories about our respective rides and machines, but none of us was able to exchange a bicycle for a Harley.  From SAG 2, I rode the last 40 miles with Larry Friedman of Michigan.  Larry is the only rider on this tour who has not ridden from LA to Boston with CrossRoads.  But after 1,200+ miles he fits right in.  Truth be told, he fit in from the beginning.  We enjoyed the views of and from the Ravenal Bridge over the Cooper River into Charleston.  And we really enjoyed getting off our bikes at the hotel.  I walked to the Cathedral for evening Mass in a beautiful church with organist and soprano intoning Psalm 23.  I now hope for repose, whether in green pastures or white sheets. 

VP for PR

Not Vice President for Public Relations, but Vigorous Pedaling for Personal Record.  I have looked forward to this 109-mile day from Jacksonville, NC to Little River, SC for over a year.  It was sure to be a flat century ride (i.e., over 100 miles), it was likely I would be in good form (two days after a rest day, following two weeks of strength-building riding) and it was possible the wind might be favorable.  So I have been thinking it might be a good day to try to improve my PR for a 100-mile ride.  I hoped to knock 15 minutes off my previous best of 5:30; it would take 19 mph while rolling to do that.  After breakfast, Al Newman advised "Seize the day!"  We started at 52 degrees with a few miles of city traffic lights, then turned onto country roads.  I pedaled at over 20 mph with Mike Taylor in my slipstream to the first SAG stop at Mile 32 for an overall average of 19.9 mph.  Then I rode solo around Wilmington to the second SAG stop at Mile 70, keeping my average at 19.9 mph.  After some straight, flat, smooth roads with a tailwind, at Mile 80 my computer said my average was 20.0 mph.  I had a shot at a sub-5-hour century, so I continued to push.  At Mile 100.0 I stopped the computer at 4:56:27 and a cumulative rolling average of 20.2 mph.  I had my PR!  And by more 33 minutes!  After that, I slowed down to 18 mph and rolled across the state line to the SC welcome center and the hotel.  I don't know if I'll ever ride a century so fast again.  I promise I will not try to do so on our 117-mile ride tomorrow.