Bedtime Stories

It strikes me as painfully ironic that I will live generally healthily and stress free but be stuck down by a meteor or something before I turn 60, while the people who surround me who somehow always manage to dramatize even the most mundane events in their daily lives will inevitably live to 100, saved, no doubt, by a few heart transplants and some form of blood pressure medication. It always seems to work out that way, doesn't it? I suppose that my general avoidance of stress keeps me from taking some chances that would work out every now and again, and it strikes me that I may have passed on some great opportunities. In the end, though, I'm pretty sure I'd rather have it that way than have something always going tragically wrong in my life. But if that's what makes people happy...

No matter.

6 days now I've been pretty limited by this whole wisdom tooth thing, and it's driving me crazy. I got out for awhile with my dad today though - just down to Lowes to pick up some plumbing stuff. Not too entertaining and I started to feel a little sick on the way back (side effects), but it was nice to get out (I still can't drive really since codeine's technically a narcotic), and I did convince him not to buy anything at WalMart. One small victory at a time.

Anyway, I know that some people are looking forward to a few good bike and build stories (I know this because they've told me - I have no illusions about how entertaining I am), and anyway, I want to write a little, so that's what I'll do here. But where to begin...

Actually, I already began at the end (see previous entry), so I suppose it doesn't really matter. But I guess it wouldn't hurt to jump back to the beginning - well, the preface, I suppose - and talk a little bit about what Bike and Build was like.

The averege day began with wake up at 6. I'd try to be up within 10 minutes. I'd get dressed into my span, buttr myself (yup), and pack up my bag, which always took a small miracle. I'd bring it out to the trailer, and then I'd eat. Sometimes, breakfast was provided by our hosts, and that would be an awesome day. More often, we were on our collective own for breakfast, so we'd have cereal and bagels and peanut butter and, always, bananas. Depending on my chore group (they rotated each week), I'd either clean up breakfast, load the trailer, pack and load the coolers, or clean up the church or other host site we were at. Then I'd fill up my water bottles and camelback, pump my tires if necessary, inflate my tires, apply the necessary sunscreen, and try to catch a quick nap (didn't happen often) before the route meeting. The route meeting basically was to go to over the, uh, route, and the details of our host site including showers, dinner, if there'd be a presentation... things like that. Whoever was driving the van (we had 4 leaders, and they rotated) would let us know the range of mileage where we'd find lunch, and then we'd be off. Ideally we'd be on the road by 7:30, but by the last few weeks of the trip we'd be lucky to be out by 8. We had a rule too, the 90-90-(30) rule, that we'd get up at 5 if the mileage or the temp was over 90, and an unofficial rule that wasn't ever enacted (so, not really a rule at all), that the same would apply for headwinds over 30.

The rides varied a lot, so there's nothing I can really call "typical." Most of the time I'd ride with other people, and a lot of those times we'd paceline for at least a part of the day. Pacelining is when a group of riders will ride single file as close to each other as possible (usually less than a foot apart) as to minimize the effect of air resistance. Turns were usually about a mile long, with leaders dropping off to the left and moving to the back when they were done. Anyway, at 20+ mph, drafting makes a big difference.

The problems with pacelining, however, are many. The first is that it makes socializing very difficult. The second is that it's stressful, to a degree. Since we're separated by only a foot (sometimes even less), only the leader can see the road, and so must be "the eyes" of the rest of the group. Signaling is imperative. The pace must be held as near to constant as possible, and so must the gaps between riders. And while you're focused on all that, it's easy to miss the landscape you're passing though. In eastern Montana it didn't matter, but in most places it did. I missed seeing a black bear (I caught it only out of the corner of my eye) because I was in a paceline. Finally, as it may be clear by now, it can be dangerous. Bumping tires at any speed will most of the time lead to a crash, and it can happen to anyone. Most cycling deaths occur because of paceline accidents that end with someone getting hit by a car. No such tragedies on our trip, but one girl did crash in a paceline, was run over by another biker, and broke her scapula. Anyway, it's not a fun thing to do all summer, even if it does save energy and get you where you're going faster.

So that being said, a lot of the times I didn't paceline. It was better to talk to people, see the sights, and just go slower. We usually had plenty of time to get where we were going, anyway.

Lunch, served out of the back of the trailer, would typically be at about mile 35-40, and would consist of a PB&J or 2, and a rotating menu of extras (including, almost always, Duplex cookies). I can't tell you how many PB&J's I ate. Really, I can't. I tried to keep count in my journal, but lost it (count, not the journal), a month before the trip ended. It was a lot, though. Mmmmm... peanut butter and jelly.

The rest of the ride really varied. Where we stopped, how often, the pace, the conversation... always different.

Our host for the evening was usually a church, but we also camped something like 8 times, stayed in high schools a few times, one synagogue, one home stay, basically a hotel at the YMCA compound in Silver Bay (Lake George). Oh, and one man-hut. More on that later. Most of the time, the church would serve us a potluck dinner, which was almost always delicious. Showers fit in somewhere. Sometimes we'd give a presentation about our program, which featured a slideshow we all got tired of. If there was something to do in town, we'd check it out. I tried to journal every day, but it got harder and harder as the trip went on. I also wrote postcards when I could. Mostly, though, we just made our own company. There were 29 of us - there was always something to do!

Falling asleep was never difficult. Lucky ones would have called a few chance couches, and pews were usually pretty comfy if we were allowed to sleep in the sanctuary. Other than that, though, it was thermorests on the floor, which can be a lot more comfortable than you might think. Then we'd get up the next day and do it all over again.

I omitted a lot of things from the day, such as talking to people along the way and hunts for slurpies, but I kind of wanted to just give a basic structure of the day without getting into too many details. Besides, those things will show up in other stories anyway.

I'm pretty tired, so that's all I'm gonna post for now. Anyway, if I added any more, no one would read it. So keep checking back for more stories (actual stories) from Bike and Build, or, since I'm home and bored and would love to talk to you, give me a call. Goodnight!