2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 18 - Cave-In-Rock, IL

So today we finally emerged from Kentucky into the cold light of Illinois, crossing the ferry here at Cave-In-Rock, IL.  It's called that because they have a cave.  In a rock. 

Anyway, when you're a kid, you get to have a really simple view of the world.  If somebody asks you about Kentucky, you might just say "that's where people have no teeth and too many dogs."  Then, when you get older, you start to understand that stereotypes are bad and mean and that really you should give people a second chance.  But, as you progress past that, you arrive at a third truth: stereotypes are stereotypes because they have at least a kernel of truth to them.  Life in a place like Portland is often an exercise in denial of stereotypes.  It's the hipster way.  On base, I think this is a good thing; giving people the chance to be individuals is always better than pre-judging them as a group.  But here's the thing: people in Kentucky, by and large, at least on our trip, were in need of a few teeth, and did in fact have too many dogs.  This is the cold hard truth about the world, and about adulthood: the reason it's a challenge to avoid being locked into stereotypes is because they are so convenient and an easy way to just understand and summarize things. 

So, here's to Kentucky.  I didn't like you quite as much as Virginia, but you definitely know how to make amazing fried chicken, and your Western farmlands are gloriously flat.  Just please do something about the dogs. 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 17 - Sebree, KY

Today is our last day in Kentucky and I'd like to take the opportunity to thank all of the people who have sponsored my ride so far! 

Mark Jeffcoat - Thanks, man.  Feels like we've been friends forever

Satoko Igarashi - Roommates!  

Laurel Aszman - So great riding with your family. 

Mom and Dad - Thanks so much for the ride up, and for delivering my car. 

Jamie - To my absolute favorite band mate. 

Ryan and Ame Shillington - Hope to see you guys soon! 

Ryan and Ame Krech - So great to get the support from you guys. 

Mae and Thayne Coffman - You guys are like the perfect couple. 

Tommy Taylor - Can't wait to get back up to Portland and climb! 

Jason Hunter - See you soon in San Fran! 

Jeanne Carment - Your postcard is on the way! 

Breckin Loggins - Let's hang out when I'm in SF! 

Jessica Deans - Your donation means a lot to me. 

Brenda Anderson - It's funny that we've still never met in person. :) 

And all the other anonymous and other donations.  It really makes my ride just so much more meaningful and fun! 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 16 - Falls of Rough, VA

Today, I rode 133 miles.  Which is absurd.  To give you an idea of what that feels like, here is a chronology of my day. 

(Before I get too far, let me say that this was not an official Bike the US for MS day.  This is me doing something stupid and extra to see the caves.  This is not typical for the tour.) 

5:30, Mile 0 - Attempt to get up and fail miserably. 

7:30, Mile 0 - Finally get rolling.  Blissfully unaware of the day that is to come. 

Mile 20 - I surprise a cow.  It's about 3 feet from me when it sees me and has literally the most human reaction I've ever seen from an animal.  The look on its face is like "Oh crap, it's a dude on a bike" 

Mile 30 - The sun is shining and all is right with the world

Mile 40 - A young deer jumps on to the road about 6 feet from my bike.  It runs forward a few paces and then suddenly catches sight of me behind it and is like "Oh crap, there's a guy on a bike right there".  It then spazzes out completely, flailing its heels, which can't get any traction on the road, and does this adorable little thing where it goes almost down to a 70 degree angle before it catches up and runs away.

Mile 48 - I get to the caves.  Everything is awesome.  The caves are like on Goonies, except better.  I have a taco salad for lunch.  In retrospect this is like the last meal on the Titanic. 

Mile 55 - I end up on the world's shortest ferry.  The humidity is now set on "liquefy" 

Mile 65 - A man in Cub Run tries to give me new directions.  There is a 0% chance that this shortcut will improve my day.  There is a 100% chance that they will find my body decomposing in the Kentucky backcountry.  I stick to the map.  The lady in the gas station says "It's a hot one" 

Mile 72 - I ride up behind a horse pulling a buggy.  I imagine some awesome old Amish guy living the good life.  I pass the carriage on the left.  Sitting in there is one single Walmart plastic lawn chair.  In the chair is a 9 year old boy.  As we pass each other, he stares right in my eyes.  The unmistakable message conveyed from the depths of his soul is "Please get me out of here, why does my family not have a car"

Mile 75 - I have decided that the worst six words in the English language are "Unsigned turn on to Oak St." 

Mile 80 - The route leader texts me and says there might be a storm coming.  I look up and the cloud is literally staring me down.  "Better get a move on, fresh meat".  It looks like a drill sergeant.  The humidity is now on "pressure cooker". 

Mile 86 - My bike shorts are so old and see through that I am getting a tan on my butt. 

Mile 95 - I pull into Sonora and slide up to the only store in town.  The door says "Closed at 4".  It is 4:36.  She lets me in anyway and gives me a Diet Coke.  I offer to marry her but she declines. 

Mile 100 - I have ridden 100 miles. 

Mile 105 - I pull my last Snickers out of my handlebar bag.  It has completely liquified.  Do I: A) Throw it away, because gross, who eats a liquid Snickers, B) Eat it because I am hungry, or C) Eat it, then seriously consider eating the wrapper because I can't quite get all the chocolate off it with my tongue

Mile 115 - I am out of water.  The town of Madrid has no water.  I face the cold specter of death.  Out of the corner of my eye I spy a really old RC Cola machine outside an unused automotive shop.  I walk up to it and it is humming gently.  It won't take my dollar.  I cry.  Then I dig 2 quarters out of my handlebar bag and it gives me a Hawaiian Fruit Punch.  I may live here now.  It is literally nirvana.

Mile 115 - 132 - A complete blur.  I suspect my brain is curled up in the corner of my skull whimpering gently. 

Mile 133 - All is right with the world. 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 15 - Hodgenville, VA

Any culture like the TransAm eventually develops its own little traditions.  One of the coolest ones are the TransAm turtles.  I had a bit of trouble figuring out what species they are (if anyone knows chime in), but I think by the pictures at this link that it's an Eastern Box Turtle (http://wildlifecenter.org/tips-helping-turtles).  They are about the size of your palm and amazingly adorable and you find them as you ride along.  They represent two things that I love about this trip: one is, the pace we go at allows us to do things like stop and move a turtle.  The second is, I love the ethos of these little random acts of kindness.  I've saved two turtles now from almost certain doom, and I gotta say, it feels good. 

If you feel like helping me save a turtle, please donate whatever you can.  I know sometimes the world feels overwhelming and there are so many requests and demands from all different directions.  But if you can donate to my ride, please do, and I promise I will name a turtle after you!  Http://tinyurl.com/AdamBikes

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 14 - Harrodsburg, KY

So, I'm at the CVS here in Harrodsburg, and I'm waiting in line for a refill on my prescription (it's for my hair, I'm not dying).  I'm talking to this lady in line about what we're up to and how we're riding across the country for charity.  The pharmacist tells me that the refill - which usually costs $21 - will be $77.  My face falls; I'm on budget now for the duration of the ride.  So she goes away and comes back and says that she can get it down to $42.  Then she pauses, and says "hold on a second".  She's gone for a moment, comes back with it, hands it to me and says "No charge".  I'm confused.  She looks at me and says "There's a man in the community who likes to do nice things for people who are doing good work, and he paid for your prescription."  

And, for the first time in my life, I didn't know what to say.  I stood there, a bit stunned.  "You don't have to do that", I said.  "I know", she said.  "He wants to."  So I said "thank you".  And I donated the money.

So, thank you, Mr. Harrodsburg guy.  Thank you for restoring my faith in humanity.  Thank you for donating $42.73 to the Bike the US for MS Society and helping to fight Multiple Sclerosis.  Thank you for being the kind of person that makes a sarcastic guy's heart melt a little.  And the next time I meet someone who needs it, and I can, I'm buying their hair pills. 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 13 - Berea, KY

So, I hesitate to post this because I don't want to make it sound like we're a bunch of lushes.  We're not, but we are cyclists who, at the end of a long day of biking, would like a beer.  Or two.  So it may or may not be the case (it is) that we went to the only restaurant in Berea that serves alcohol and...bought all their alcohol.  Every last one.  So the last few days we haven't been able to drink because we've been in dry Kentucky counties.  This country we're in is a "moist" county.  No, seriously, that's the official term.  Moist.  Which means it's mostly dry, but certain places are allowed to serve.  So we closed it down.

Berea is nice.  These are not my people but everyone here has been very nice to us.  It's vey religious here but there is a focus on individual expression and arts and crafts.  All students at Berea attend for free but they work for their tuition by making things or doing a job to help the school, which is a cool idea. 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 12 - Booneville, KY

Yes, Booneville, Kentucky.  Population 152.  The Family Dollar is very nice.  It's quite entertaining how...Kentucky Kentucky is.  Literally as soon as we crossed the state line, we started getting chased by dogs, and the humidity went up about 20%.  Someone must pass out broken cars, too, because it seems like everyone has one.  And the dogs chase us.  Still, it's beautiful here. 

Houston and Rice friends: remember that feeling where you took a shower and never actually dried off?  Ah, memories.

3 parting words for Virginia: Green.  Civilized.  Elegant. 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 11 - Hindman, KY

I don't think things are going so well in Hindman, KY.  Now, that's not to say it isn't a nice place.  The Baptist Church we're staying at here in downtown is very pleasant and well kept and actually exceptionally cool.  They've got a pool table and a Street Fighter II machine and a whole upstairs music space.  And certainly there are some cool things in Hindman; some of the buildings look quite nice and there are some law firms and a post office.  But there's also a Career Center, a broken down car sales place, and just a lot of what look like empty buildings.  And a few signs: "Friends of Coal".  "Coal is Clean".

Now, coal is not clean.  These people are, unfortunately, on the wrong side of history, and sadly, there isn't much that can be done to change their fate - if, of course, their fate is tied exclusively to coal.  But I say this just as a reminder that in any war, no matter how righteous, there are winners and there are sometimes losers, and being kind to the losers is super important.  We must save this planet, and part of that is reducing our dependence on fossil fuels - but if in the process we destroy entire communities - well, that would be sad.  For Hindman, KY, and for all of us.

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 10 - Breaks, VA

Want to hear a really funny story?  It may make you feel better about your life choices.  So yesterday, we pull into camp at Breaks Interstate Camp.  This is one of these spots that families use to "get outside", the kind with a camp store and cabins and little campgrounds with numbers on them.  Hanging out next to us was a bunch of families with kids.

I get out of the shower and I'm riding my bike up towards camp when I see some of my friends sitting and watching these kids riding BMX bikes.  One of them, about a 9 year old kid with really terrible teeth (that's not a value judgment; he really had terrible teeth) comes up to me and, in a thick Kentucky accent, proceeds to tell me that I am a giant weenie if I don't go off his bike ramp.  There's a pregnant pause.  My friends are looking at me.  I use all my powers of adulthood.  They fail me.  I stall for time.  Nothing is working.  The universe is closing in.  I hear a voice - mine? - agree to do this thing.  I ride up the road.  Accelerate.  Close my eyes.  Careen off the rock, and of course, immediately flip the bike, ass over tea kettle.  Fortunately my body is soft and plush.  I land on my shoulder.  The pain is so intense I want to vomit.  But I get up and, gritting my teeth, I slowly walk my bike back down to the bathroom, and wrap my shoulder in a hoodie sling.

So, you know, peer pressure - if a 9-year-old Kentucky kid can be called my peer - is a hell of a thing.

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 9 - Rosedale, VA

"Hate never conquers hate; only love can do that."

Today I'd like to write about a topic that I think is really important, although it maybe a bit uncomfortable.  Some of you will think I am wrong, and that's OK.  I will espouse a philosophy that, while it might seem odd, is not something I came up with but is instead ancient as the hills.

 Riding through rural Virginia on back roads as we have, has been an awesome experience.  People have been so generous and kind and just wonderful.  There is a "downside", though - at least if you choose to see it that way.  We saw a few dozen confederate flags, a number of Trump signs.  We stopped at an unused convenience store and saw the "N" word graffitied on the floor.  Now, I know that, for a lot of people, these things are just wrong, as are the people that do them.  And that's the end of the story.  Fair enough.  I understand that perspective.  I empathize.   

Just a few weeks ago, I was out at dinner with a number of friends, and we started drinking and talking about politics (a dangerous combination).  I was labeled a Trump supporter.  Let me be clear: I am not a Trump supporter.  I am everything but a Trump supporter.  What I will claim, however, is that I am a Trump supporter supporter.  That is to say, I support the humanity and the fundamental value of people, even those that support Trump.  For example, my parents support Donald Trump for President, and I honor them as my parents, as human beings, and as my elders.  Do I think that Donald Trump would make a good president?  I do not.  I think he would be a disaster.  But that is not what I'm saying.  What I'm saying is that, even though a person puts up a confederate flag, I still respect them as a human.  I may feel that they are wrong, but I do not think they are somehow less of a person.  And this is where so many people go wrong; they lose respect for people with different opinions.  Then, because they have less respect, they talk down to them.  They try to tell them what to do, explain to them how wrong and evil they are.  And guess what?  It never, ever works.  Nobody responds to advice delivered without respect.  They will ignore you, and if you assert your authority, they will fight you, and if somehow you still win, they will do what you say under coercion, but they will hate you the whole time.  I believe this firmly: Donald Trump is partially a creation of the dominant liberal paradigm which refuses to treat their fellow citizens with respect and thus incites anger and rage.  I am interested in winning; both this election and the race for the fate of the country.  But I want to do it respectfully.  I want to be a good winner.  I want to shake hands at the end.  Hate never conquers hate; only love can do that.  

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 8 - Rural Retreat, VA

Today was an excellent day of riding through rural Virginia.  It was challenging, to be sure - we had a bit of wind and there were some hills.  But by and large, my body has responded really well to the ride, with no real aches and pains to speak of.  I've talked before here about how lucky I feel that I don't have a disease like MS.  But I think I haven't been adequately grateful for how well my body works.  I mean, I'm no athlete, and I could stand to lose some pounds, but really, I am in remarkably good shape, considering some of my poor habits.  I am riding with a bunch of young twenty-somethings and keeping up with them really well.  The point of this is not to brag; while I do feel that I can take credit for some of it, a lot of it is just luck.  Take my knee, for example; when I was 10 years old, I had that bad football accident and the doctors told me I might never walk without a limp.  And here I am, after 5 marathons and well over 3000 miles of bike touring, and I have so little pain that I can't tell which knee it is. 

I really feel inspired to use my body; given that it's healthy, I want to be out there, every day if possible, doing all the things. 

Meanwhile, here's some pictures of Virginia! 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 7 - Blacksburg, VA

All along the way, I learn or re-learn little life lessons.  Today we went and did a service project at the home of someone with MS; we raked all the leaves out of her yard.  And I was reminded that volunteering doesn't always involve glamour or even appreciation.  Not that today's work was unglamorous or unappreciated; it was awesome and they were happy to have us.  But the woman who actually has MS couldn't even come out to greet us because she has seizure-related issues.  I was just reminded that sometimes when you volunteer it can be thankless, and that when we volunteer, we have to do it without any expectation of a "return on investment".  The Baghvad Gita teaches that actions should be performed without regard to results but rather in accordance with conscience.  So that's today's lesson. 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 6 - Blacksburg, VA

I have a little bit more time today to write - today was a short day into Blacksburg, only 40 miles, in preparation for our first rest day tomorrow off the bike.  There's a lot I could write about, but one of the things that I found interesting is this: Facebook is dead.  I've been hanging out with a pack of early twenty somethings, because they happen to share my biking pace, and one thing I've realized is that none of them give much of a crap about Facebook.  Oh, most of them have accounts, but they really don't use them.  Some of them just don't much care for social media period, but most of them do, they just don't use Facebook any more.  It's all about Instagram, or Snapchat, or a million other things.  All of which, by the way, they do on their phone.  For my age bracket, Facebook was a Big Deal.  We put our secrets up there, we planned our parties on there.  It was everything.  But they don't see it that way.  The ones that use it at all see it almost more as a professional network, a place maybe to talk about politics or causes that are important to them, or to hang out with family.  

Time marches on, huh? 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 5 - Troutville, VA

Depression is something I've struggled my whole life with.  It's something I am not alone in struggling with, of course; I had a conversation just today with a good friend about a depression-related issue.  One of the interesting and defining characteristics of my ride 2 years ago, though, was that I really never felt depressed.  I mean, I got sad during that trip for sure; I remember pulling off to the side of the road beneath a big tree and just crying my eyes out for 30 minutes.  But that felt like a release, not like anxiety or being trapped.

So I was sad, and a little surprised, to find that today I was depressed.  I wondered what was different about this trip.  Fortunately, because I've put time in on self-understanding, I figured it out quickly: it's the presence of other people, the struggle to fit in to a social group.  I suddenly realized I was worried about every little thing.  Will people think it's weird if I only brush my teeth at night?  Should I go hang out with this person, or that other one?  Why does everyone get up so early?  Why doesn't anyone seem to like my Facebook posts?  Am I a loser because I couldn't get enough donations?  Etc., etc.  My mind was occupied with this.  The blissful thing about that trip in 2014 was that I was absolutely, totally, 100% myself.

And so I made a commitment to myself: this trip is for me.  I'm going to do what I want, when I want, and be myself.  Not in an aggressive way, or to be difficult, but just to reassert that feeling of self-worth.

Also, Troutville is a hiking town, and that's really cool.  And fire departments are awesome people.

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 4 - Vesuvius, VA

Virginia is exceptionally green.  And I enjoy climbing things on my bike.  Those two things make the Blue Ridge Parkway a great place to hang out. 

Also, people are very nice.  That is all. 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 3 - Charlottesville, VA

Today we got to meet our first recipient of some of our fundraising money.  I'd love to say it was a really heroic and inspiring experience - and of course it was, if you want to look at it through that lens.  But what I was really struck by was the humanity of it, the day-to-day issues.  This woman - Angela - and her husband - were there, her in her wheelchair.  And you think about the little things.  Not being able to own a normal car.  Him having to feed her at a restaurant because she can't work a fork.  This was just a normal woman, who had 2 boys and used to like to run and ride her bike.  And now she can't.

That's what stays with me. 

Also, the UVA campus is gorgeous.  Good job, Thomas. 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 2 - Mineral, VA

It's always interesting when you try to start integrating yourself into a new social group.  Today's lesson: I need to adjust to be an early riser.  I'm usually an out-by-9:30-ish kinda guy.  So last night when they told us the van was heading out at 8:00, I set my alarm for 7:00.  By 7:30, when I walked out into the parking lot, the place was a ghost town!  So I'm traveling with early risers.  That's OK; I can adjust! 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 1 - Glendale, CA (65.96 mi)

Day 1 in the bag.  A beautiful ride through eastern Virginia.  Virginia (the state) recently built a really awesome bike path that goes a good 30+ miles, and we rode the whole length of it, under trees and shade.  It was, really, a perfect day of riding, a great way to get started and get our legs under us. 

2016 TransAm/Western Express Day 0 - Yorktown, VA

Today was day 0 - Yorktown, VA.  Getting ready to start the ride, saying goodbye to my parents.  We visited the American Revolution museum here and saw some cool stuff, watched a man firing a musket and demonstrating "linear tactics" (I.e. Stand here and die, please).  Interesting tidbit: we really won the war because of the French.  I can't wait to get on the bike and get started! 

Day 141 - Puerto Vallarta, Jal., Mexico

A brief PSA about sunburn.  One of the downsides of my awesome kayaking adventure in the sun is some red, sensitive skin.  My father has had skin cancer over 10 different times, and my mom's had it as well - so watch it!  I'm not a big sunscreen fan, but of course it's the best medicine.  I'm inclined to think the sun has positive effects as well, but too much is no good.  And a huge part of prevention is staying aware of your own skin and watching for any weird changes.  I'm including a link here to WebMD's great page about skin cancer.  Check yourself!

http://www.m.webmd.com/melanoma-skin-cancer/melanoma-guide/sunburn-and-skin-cancer-topic-overview