See America Right » A Girl, Her Bike, And Everything In Between.

Cars go 49 miles an hour. So do trains. Occasionally, so do people going down a very steep hill on their bicycles. Unfortunately, none of these are the 49 mph event I have to tell you about today.

We left Austin, the little Nevada town named after the town in Texas that all of us hold very dear, ready to head to Fallon. An 111 mile trek through the desert and the mountains and whatever else Nevada had in store for us.

I remember ride dedications this morning really well. I dedicated my ride to everyone suffering from cancer who doesn’t have insurance. Not only are they fighting an inner battle, but also an outer one with huge stress implications. I neglected to mention last time that a group of 4 cyclists going from San Francisco to Connecticut joined us in our campsite overnight. They were self-supported, riding for a leukemia charity, and truly awesome people. I was really impressed with their dedication – crossing the Sierra Nevadas with 50 extra pounds of weight is by no means a small feat. I hope they have a good journey.

Initially, we pulled out of Austin, NV into the continuation of a downhill that had started the day before. It all seemed pretty peachy for a while, and then the work began. I started to notice the wind somewhere in there. As the day pushed on, the wind got stronger, and we had to work much harder.

One of the highlights of this leg of US-50 is something called The Shoe Tree. Nobody really knows the true story behind it (at least as far as I could tell) but everyone seems to agree that it’s a pretty strange phenomenon. As you can see, it’s a big tree covered in all kinds of shoes. The wind must blow here pretty often, because shoes were in piles beneath and around the tree. It was almost unbelievable.

Right before mile 80, we hit an uphill that was magnified in difficulty 10 times due to the insane headwind. I was out of water, so was Taylor, and we were struggling through some pretty hot weather. Just over the top of the crest, we finally saw the 80 mile rest stop and were very, very thankful.  Little did we know, the worst part of our entire ride thus far was yet to come.

We left that rest stop, went down a mountain, and then, suddenly, we were in some strange sort of apocalyptic sand desert. This is the only picture I have of it, because, well, after about 300 feet the wind started blowing 40+ mph. It went on for over 15 miles. My iPhone wind meter app measured the strongest gust at 49 mph. Yes, that’s the 49 miles an hour I was talking about. Wind! Taylor and I were alone and I never thought I was going to make it. I was pulling and by the time we arrived at the 100 mile rest stop my entire left side was numb from working so hard. We averaged about 5.5 mph. It was crippling.

Sometimes when I relate this story to people, they ask what got me through it. In all honesty, I can’t pinpoint one thing. We were stopping every few hundred feet just to rest. Sometimes the wind was so strong we couldn’t safely pull our water bottles out without stopping. Taylor & I sang “No Children” as loud as we could, over and over again. I thought about her dad a lot and Porter’s dad, and everybody else I ride for. When we had 10 miles to go, I thought we might not make it. Somewhere around there though, Taylor and I started talking about people we both knew (she’s from Mansfield, a neighboring city to Arlington), and the time passed a little quicker. Then the wind calmed down just a few miles an hour – a least we were moving faster than 5 mph.

The last few miles were hell, but we made it. The McDonald’s burger waiting for me at that rest stop was the best thing I have ever eaten. Well, second only to the chocolate milk I bought as soon as I pulled into town. It was beyond delicious. As was our dinner.

Fallon is known as the “oasis of Nevada” – though I’m pretty sure I never would have come to that conclusion myself, on day 24, Fallon was our oasis. Another day. The worst yet (and one that would hold the title for a long, long time).

En route to Eureka, Nevada. A 21st birthday. A cool morning on concrete outside an unfamiliar high school in an unfamiliar town eating oatmeal & pancakes, for the most part. Leftover mail drop food for those with upset or picky stomachs. A morning birthday cake. A ride off to a good start. Camera work. A giant rest stop birthday card and a poem on the fly. Joy. A few still ill with stomach issues – some new victims, also. Turns for the better. Good day.

4 summits. 3 photographs. Climbing up, falling down. Worth it. Save the best for last. The neverending Pinto Summit. Up, up, up. Steeper and steeper. And then, the long descent into Eureka. The realization that you like climbing. The realization that you’ve changed.

A new desert, different from the first. A strange beauty. The loneliest highway in America – supposedly – but not deserted. Emptiness, but not utter calm.

Birthday hats all day long. Dinner with the Lions. Everyone – so kind. Spaghetti. Rhubarb cobbler! Eager eyes, even when my stomach doesn’t follow. Deep, lasting beauty in Nevada. Change. The state that bridges the old ways and the new. Moving forward. Climbing.

Climbing.

I went to bed in Enterprise knowing without a doubt that I was going to get up the next morning and ride, no matter how bad I felt. We were headed for Pioche, NV – a new state and our second day of the new route – and I was going to be entering Nevada on my bicycle, not in the van.

When I woke up, I still felt pretty fatigued. I changed into my cycling gear (my first order of business every morning) and returned to my sleeping area (also fondly referred to as my apartment) to pack my bag. I had barely been awake 5 minutes before David asked to talk to me. Normally, this wouldn’t bother me much, but at 4:30a in the morning, it just couldn’t be good. And that’s when I got the double whammy of the morning.

First of all, Arvin & Basia had taken the 12 passenger van back to St. George in order to take Arvin to the hospital. He had been ill with a pretty terrible gastrointestinal problem and it had severely worsened overnight, so Basia had driven him to the hospital. We had no cell reception and thus no way of knowing when they might rejoin us. We would need to make do with the 15 passenger for the day for rest stops. A problem, but a very minor one all things considered.

The next one came as somewhat of a surprise. Paul would be driving Foley to St. George shortly. She had made plans to take the Greyhound back to Austin. I (and most of the team, I’d venture to say) had known that she wasn’t having the easiest time. None of us were. Despite some mention of leaving before, I had never expected it so soon. Regardless, we all had had barely enough time to absorb her decision before she was gone, and there it was. We were 25.

Because of all the early morning van usage, we had to wait a bit to roll out of Enterprise. I spent most of that time resting, as I really wasn’t feeling too hot. Before I even hopped on the bike I knew this day was going to be very difficult for me. And boy was it.

Taylor S. was kind enough to spend the whole day with me. At the 20 mile rest stop, I still felt bad, but I was attempting to portion out the day into manageable chunks of 20, so I kept on going. I watched all my border race buddies fly by, headed for Nevada much as I had been for every other border. The Nevada border was Krisztina’s today – I wasn’t putting up a fight, so her and Angela had to duke it out.

The second portion started out with a hefty climb. I was sure I wouldn’t make it. Eventually, I saw the little green summit sign – we were at the top. Luckily, the rest of the ride to the rest stop was a 10 mile downhill. Without that, I very well might not have made it. Arvin was also back with us at the 40 mile – not healed by any means, but at least feeling better. We were all cheered to see him back from the hospital.

The last section of the day was short – it was only a total of 57 miles that day – but it turned out to be almost all climbing. Taylor S. & Tyler stuck by me the whole time, despite my glacial pace and the fact that I had to stop and sit down on the ground every 300 or 400 feet. Even though it took us the better part of forever, most of which I spent crying and thinking I wouldn’t make it, we did make it. It was probably the most wonderful feeling I had had up until then on the ride. I was done for the day, and I had made it, despite everything. My hardest day? Definitely. But it ended in this delicious meal:

The day into Pioche was a day of lessons. I guess every day, more or less, is with this ride. I learned that sometimes things are not the way they seem. I got to spend a day with Taylor and I learned what their really is to appreciate about her, past the good sense of humor and intelligent conservation – she is what kept me going all day long. She was always happy to stop, to encourage me, to do whatever it took to get me there, and it worked. I made it and so did she.

I also learned to deeply appreciate what it is that’s keeping me here – every day, every pedalstroke, no matter what happens. I am so grateful for the perseverance to keep going and the dedication to never quit. Some days are bad. Some days are good. Some days are just a wild card. I’m okay with that. I think sometimes on this ride people can forget to appreciate their own efforts because of their humility or selflessness. Today was a day where I appreciate my own inner strength. I didn’t back down. I never will back down.

Day 20. When everything started to change – for the bigger, better, and greater.

To say most of us were excited for Zion is a gross understatement. We left Kanab that morning with a highly-charged sense of excitement. Many of the team had been waiting for this day since they first joined the organization. I was, like many, excited about visiting one of the neatest national parks around. I was also excited for the short mileage, and, of course, the opportunity to sweep for the first time on the ride.

Sweeping is one of the most important duties a team member can provide. The sweep wears the yellow vest (which you will see on me a little later on) and ensures that the people in the back of the pack are taken care of and no one is left behind. Often the sweep is emotional support for someone having a tough day or experiencing some physical pain. Though the day into Zion was short, I was happy to be sweeping.

The ride into Zion ended up being a little shorter than we even anticipated, as we had to SAG because of horrible construction. So after 25 miles uphill, we all loaded into the vans and made the drive into Zion. But first, we had some burgers at a great restaurant, where our fearless leader, David, passed out.

Naturally, his girlfriend, Yijiao, tried to cover him in whipped cream, much to our enjoyment. David was not nearly as amused. Once we were all full of burgers and fries, we set off for the park itself. We actually ended up letting two road-weary cyclists from Seattle hitch a ride through the tunnel with us, which was fun.

What can you really say about one of America’s greatest national parks? I knew immediately upon arriving that it was incredible and I had to come back when I really had time. I’d also love to return in winter, when the park is blanketed in snow.

It was really a gorgeous park – unfortunately, I only got to see a small slice of it before, on the afternoon of our rest day, I got food poisoning at a restaurant in Springdale, right outside Zion. I hadn’t thrown up in almost ten years, but I got pretty sick. I don’t remember much of that afternoon/evening except feeling ill in more ways than one. It’ll be a while before I eat chicken salad again, let’s put it like that.

Besides the food poisoning, I really love Zion. There is no better way to describe it than majestic – the park is truly a wonder. I know I’ll come back. I wish I could’ve seen more, but alas, I got pretty sick. As a result, you’ll get to hear about the end of my “no SAG’ing” streak, my first day of the ride without a single photograph, and my super hard return to the bike afterward. But not until next time unfortunately. Starbucks closes in 9 minutes.

I’ll leave you with a shot of the Narrows.

By the time this day rolled around, I was actually glad I was SAG’ing. I was incredibly tired – having slept only two or so hours the night before in Kayenta. Andrew (also SAG’ing) and I stayed up rather late having a long conversation, and then we both had trouble sleeping that night. As a result, we were both pretty exhausted. Not to mention I was just tapped out from the day before – muscles, rear end, everything.

The day was not the easiest one for the team, especially for the first stretch, which had some nasty headwind. As you can see, our rest stop setup looks rather bleak, what with the Martian landscape. Andrew & I got everything ready and then both took a nap in the van, trying to make up for lost sleep. I didn’t sleep much though, and I ended up passing out in the van later on during the ride to Page.

At the end of the day, we had to perform our first operation Oreo of the ride – that is, we had to use the vehicles to sandwich the riders into the city due to, in this case, dangerous construction. The road was completely gravel/dirt, and, of course, uphill. We would have just SAG’ed everyone, but it was only half a mile long and it ended in our destination.

We stayed in the police department in Page, but the Elks Lodge across the street fed us both dinner and breakfast and gave us a warm welcome under the guidance of Wayne. Wayne was truly an inspirational man who cared deeply about what we were doing, and he was moved to the point of tears throughout his address to us. His connections to cancer are very deep and very personal, and we were all moved by his emotion. Not to mention, they had mashed potatoes and gravy, which I ate like four servings of.

One of the best things about this ride (and biggest bummers for me, since I was SAG’ing), was that Mike, from Farmington, rode with us. Mike & his wife hosted Mariana & Krisztina while we were in Farmington, and he had a truly unique and inspiring story. He had had severe colonitis with precancerous growths and had had to have his colon removed eventually. After that, he found the bike and is now an incredible cyclist and an inspiring person. Having him with us this day exponentially increased our energy and happiness and we really had a great time with him. He and his wife are truly good people.

And that was Page – and well, our last full day in Arizona, too.