epilogue

i'm sitting here in the delta lounge waiting, with weather delays, for my flight back home and i'm trying to piece together my thoughts from the past three and a half weeks.  you'll forgive me if this winds up being a ramble, but that's how my mind is working today.

ole man river.  our constant companion 

i was told last night that, as the soreness fades, the satisfaction of the ride will set in.  somehow, i'm not sure it's really hit me yet.  i feel good about accomplishing what i set out to do -- ride 1700+ miles.  actually, my bike computer says it was 1762 miles.  but i'm not feeling the satisfaction yet.  hopefully soon.

andy and his "mr goodwrench" award, made from found objects we collected on the roads

this morning, i ran into andy kaplan, our bike mechanic, or "wrench" as they are known in the trade, at breakfast.  we sat and talked about what we had just been through.  as the mechanic and part of the four-person support team, andy (a competitive cyclist from arizona when not working on these tours) was only able to ride every other day, having to run one of the support vans on his alternate days.  even so, he sat there at the table and talked with amazement about what he witnessed over these past weeks.  he praised our sense of regimen, to be able to get up every morning, eat, suit up, "saddle up," and ride.  he got to rest every other day and marveled, especially with some of the older riders, at their devotion to the sport.

all packed up and ready for another day's ride

i guess i'll come around the that sense of accomplishment in the coming weeks.  it's just not there yet.  yes, i finished.  and yes, i let out a wild cathartic yell as i entered the hotel parking lot.  but it was a transient relief, rather than a greater sense of what i've done.  i'm sure i'll get there soon.

the fossils cranking in their pace line

for now, i'm looking back at where we were and what we experienced along the way.  

from big cities...

to small towns

crossing the mississippi on bridges...

and ferries

on busy highways...

and less travelled back country roads

for me, i've learned a whole lot about biking.  i've learned better techniques for changing flat tires (four in all during the ride), for dealing with saddle sores and for taking care of my bike.  i've also learned a lot more about people, about this country and about life, especially life after 60.

here are some of the things i learned along the way:

-  bollards:  those collapsable metal posts that prevent cars and other vehicles from entering bike paths.

-  cassette flossing:  the process of taking a rag and cleaning in between each of the ten cogs in your back gear cassette.  and yes, when you see someone sliding that rag back and forth, it does look like teeth flossing.

-  CO2 leaching:  they don't tell you this in the bike shop, but when you use a CO2 cartridge to fill your bicycle tire, the gas will leach out of the inner tube over a 24-hour period.  apparently, it's a smaller molecule than air.  CO2 is great in an emergency, but once you are back to a place with a floor pump, you need to bleed all the CO2 out of the tire and re-pump it up with air.

wheat fields in tennessee...

and grain elevators in louisiana

-  i now know the difference between straw and hay. the former is what's left after the wheat has been harvested.  it's of no nutritional value.  the latter is clover, alfalfa, etc., and is used for feed.

-  i can tell the difference between oats, wheat and alfalfa growing in the fields.  i also learned about crop rotation and which crops are nitrogen producing and which are nitrogen leaching.  

-  bikers (motorcyclists) seem to have a solidarity with their fellow two-wheeled brethren.  more often than not, they would raise a hand, wave and show support for us as they rode past us.  probably, they were thinking, "there but for the grace of god -- and my 650 cc engine -- go i."

-  long-haul truckers are far more friendly to cyclists than local truck drivers.  the long-haulers, mostly in huge tractor trailers, would always give us a wide berth as they drove by us.  the local truck drivers, on the other hand, wouldn't budge an inch.  more often than i care to tell you, we had some close encounters with local delivery trucks, pick-up's hauling boats and farm equipment and dump trucks.
-  there is a huge obesity problem in the u.s. and it's only further compounded by the economic woes that many people feel.  when you walk into an all-you-can-eat buffet joint, you know why people are coming here.  the food is cheap and plentiful.  but why oh why does everyone feel the need to go to excess?  sure, we're burning off four or five thousand calories each day on the ride.  but what about all those rotund people going back for thirds?  if we are going to stop obesity in this country, this is ground zero.

-  i will never again intentionally eat at a cracker barrel, a huddle house, the olive garden, the golden corral, generic chinese buffets or any place that serves food to the masses in that style.  yes, i'll still grab food from wendy's, mcdonald's and taco bell.  just not "all you can eat" buffet places.
-  i learned more yiddish.  yeah, i know that may come as a surprise, but it turns out that jeff, our ride leader is jewish.  when he found out i was from the tribe, he and i started a running dialogue about our grandparents and all the yiddish expressions they used while we were both growing up (jeff is my age).  every new state brought a new yiddish word or phrase.
-  apple is going to have to figure out a better way to make money off of our memories.  it turns out that many of the riders have a good take on their itunes music files.  as we weren't allowed to bring headphones or ipods during our rides, many riders took to calling up tunes from their playlists and began singing.  sometimes, we'd all join in.  sometimes, whoever was leading the pace line just got to sing his own songs.  i was partial to bruce (pink cadillac, on the flats) and elvis costello (pump it up, on the hills).
-  i learned that i don't easily quit.  there were hills and seemed as if they'd never end.  long, STEEP hills.  as rollie advised, just put your head down and keep pedaling.  there were times when i thought i wouldn't complete this trip.  either it was from saddle sores, or my back or just mental fatigue.  but i knew where i wanted to end up and i stuck to that goal.  i can talk myself into things just as easily as i talk myself out of them.  now i just have to work on doing more of the former and less of the latter.

-  fear vs exhilaration:  going down a steep, mile-long hill at high speeds is both a rush and a panic attack all at the same time.  some of the riders who would blast down these slopes, doing over 40 miles an hour (or over 50 in a couple of cases), were philosophic about the potential for serious injury or worse.  "hey, if you have to go, at least it's while doing something you seriously enjoyed."  somehow, that wasn't what ran through my head.  as my bike would be careening down the hill and my computer readout was showing speed in excess of 35 miles per hour, i reminded myself that all the separated me from the road surface was a wafer-thing piece of rubber that had shown a tendency to pick up shards of glass or bits of reinforcing wire from stray truck tires.  while i really liked the rush of the wind and my being able to slice through it, i learned my limitations.  my better angels prevailed and i would gently tap my back brakes and keep my speed within my own acceptable tolerances.

st. joseph cathedral in la crosse, wisconsin

not a single jewish temple in sight!

the only temple along the way -- the mormon temple in nauvoo, illinois

besides this morning's conversation with andy and his take on our trip, others offered pretty impressive points of view.  albert, one of the fossils and our lone rider from outside the states -- he's from the netherlands -- offered some profound comments on america.  he was particularly taken by the fervent religious passions we saw and felt along our river route through america's heartland.  whether it was all the churches, or the sayings on their electric signage, one couldn't help but feel and see how devoted to god were the citizens of this part of the country.

albert also noted that america's leash laws, referring to the frequent attacks we faced along country roads from equally passionate dogs, was something especially confounding.  he couldn't believe that we in america would allow dogs to merely run freely without regard to personal protection.  he then posited whether or not there was some connection between the fervent nature of religious belief in this part of the country and what may have rubbed off on the dogs.   

in addition to those learnings, i came to appreciate a lot of things around me that i took for granted.  i will never question the athletic prowess of someone, no matter what shape they are in.  some of the riders on this tour may have looked terribly out of shape, but they could kick my ass going up and coming down hills.  i also got to see some examples of the potential roads ahead for me.  so, in no particular order, here's some of my observations:

-  life doesn't end at 60.  yes, i look at myself in the mirror and see more gray hair every day, but without the mirror, i still think of myself as someone in his 20's.  it's just how i am.  i'll always be that way and i'm glad i have that sense of being peter pan.  if i've had any fears of growing older, i think this trip helped me overcome much of the anxiety of what lies ahead.  yes, my joints will continue to ache more when i wake up in the morning and i won't run as fast as i used to, but i'm still looking forward to playing baseball when i turn 80.  and, if anything was a proof source for that kind of feeling, it was just looking at my fellow riders this week.  

-  sixty year old men (and older) are merely 10-year old boys, only grayer.  they still tell the same corny jokes they told each other in third grade.  they still see things in the same funny way and, even though they are older and should know better by now, they carry on with the same petty jealousies, make the same sarcastic remarks and still crave a good scoop of ice cream.
-  i couldn't have made this trip without the support of family and friends.  and for jeff, sondra, pam and andy for supporting me mentally and physically (bike-wise, that is) all during the trip.

-  i have so much to be thankful for and i sometimes forget to just step back and remember that.  one of the other songs in my mental playlist said it better than i could, so i hope don henley will pardon me for borrowing his lines:

i've got great expectations
ive got family and friends
i've got satisfying work
i've got a back that bends
for every breath, for every day of living
this is my thanksgiving

and i don't mind saying that i still love it all
i wallowed in the springtime
now i'm welcoming the fall

for every moment of joy
every hour of fear
for every winding road that brought me here
for every breath, for every day of living
this is my thanksgiving

for everyone who helped me start
and for everything that broke my heart
for every breath, for every day of living
this is my thanksgiving

and thank you all, who ever you are, for reading my rantings over the past four weeks.  i very much appreciate you caring.

i'll leave you all with one final thought.  it's not mine.  it was a sign that kept showing up in louisiana, tennessee and again in illinois.  in a nutshell, it's the twisted sense of humor that kept me laughing, and kept my wits about me all along this ride.

                "unattended children will be given espresso and a free kitten"

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