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Bike from Oregon to Virginia, June/July 1999 Day 50: Buckhorn, Kentucky to Breaks Park, Virginia Let's clear something up, remember after my big ride 2 days ago when I told you the trip could end and I wouldn't mind. What I really meant was that if my bike broke, was stolen, I got hurt, etc. it would be OK but it would not be OK if I just quit. With that cleared up let's talk about last night and today.
Since we came down Hoosier Pass in Colorado it has been hot, so hot I have had a difficult time sleeping. And of course as we headed east the humidity only made it worse as I would be sticky while sweating on my sleeping bag. So Buckhorn turned out to be a nice surprise as I was not uncomfortable when I hit the hay, problems arose when I awoke in the middle of the night. For dinner a man at the Buckhorn ghetto grocery store made me 2 bologna sandwiches and now they want out. Exiting the tent I sat on the side of the river with my head between my legs and began swallowing air to induce burping and hopefully vomiting. Succeeding in making myself more ill I quickly went to my finger and after several plunges out came dinner. Immediately I felt better but of course I had vomit mouth and would have to brush my teeth several times to get rid of it. But I didn't. Vomit sandwich man told me I had two big hills to climb to get out of Buckhorn and he was correct. Luckily the fog kept things nice and cool for me, unluckily though, I met dogs. Now whenever I met dogs before I always had the option of outrunning them (although it was never necessary). This time I was climbing a steep hill very slowly in my easiest gear, and then I saw the dog. Then his mother, next this father, and finally his 3 brothers and sisters. It was almost comical as I was going so slow the dogs couldn't even run after me, they just ran around me. Although I didn't have to, I squirted two of them in the face with my water bottle and then they quickly lost interest (I don't think the two events are related). As I am now out of Kentucky I suppose I better tell my scariest dog story which occurred two days ago, on the Murphy's Ford shortcut (just before I went the wrong way). For 3 houses in a row dogs had come out and chased me, the fourth proved no exception although I almost died laughing at the little terrier and beagle running after me. But little dogs can have big friends, in this case a beautiful and large German Shepard who was coming at me covering 10 feet per bound. All at once I said, "oh shit", every hair on my body stood up and I got a huge dose of adrenaline. Thankfully the shepard never left his property. While riding to Pippa Passes I was on the far right of a 10 -oot shoulder so when a big rig flew by me and honked I was annoyed and said in a loud voice "what the f__k?". To my horror the truck immediately pulled over and I began mentally preparing for the whooping I was going to get. As I was still riding up to the rig the trucker was already outside and when I was about 10 meters from him he reached into his back pocket and out came… a gun, no… a switchblade, no… it turned out to be a black comb. Calmly I asked him if I had dropped something and he gestured behind me. Suddenly it became obvious, he had honked at the small truck that was now behind both of us. At 11:00 am I reached Pippa Passes, home to the Alice Lloyd College and a hostel I wanted to stay in but didn't. At a gas station/convenience store I had the best roast beef sandwich I've ever had and also saw an interesting raffle. For $1 you can buy a ticket to win a TV and VCR, the proceeds on which go towards "saving the foot of Joe Hillbilly". It had been overcast but after Pippa Passes the sun came out, just in time for 611! Remember how yesterday I made a wrong turn and went up some super steep hills. Well 611 was just as bad and I am truly humbled that these are even on the route. On another climb after 611 I saw a couple of little kids (brother and sister) standing beside a trampoline in their yard. "Hi" I said, causing the little girl to run inside and the little boy to promptly grab a rock from his pile on the trampoline, heave back, and throw it at me! As it bounced somewhere near my rear tire I just didn't know what to think. For 5 years in a row the big Spaniard Miguel Indurain dominated the tour but was dethroned by the Great Dane, Bijarne Ris of Team Telekom. Next year his teammate, the mighty German Jan Ulrich took the podium and just last year, in a race no one thought he could win, the little pirate from Italy, Marco Pantani ran away from the field in the Alps. This year, today in fact, Lance Armstrong will become the first American to win the tour since Greg LeMond! He will arrive in Paris and cruise up and down the Champs Elysse before hundreds of thousands of fans and take the trophy before the Arc de Triumph. Today I too consider my epic journey to have come to an end as I entered Virginia after 50 days on the road and after having raced across Kentucky (almost 500 miles) in 4 days. Tomorrow I will ride a short 80 miles into Damascus and perhaps by Tuesday I will be back on the west coast. Day 51: Breaks Park, Virginia to Damascus, Virginia What can I say, I'm done! Although mentally I completed my journey upon entering Virginia yesterday, still 80 plus miles remained between myself and a bike shop in Damascus who could pack and shop my bike home. So this morning I arose early and for the last time broke camp and set out in the cool Appalachian mist. And for the first time my legs were not with me, it wasn't that I hadn't eaten, was tired, or didn't sleep well, but rather, for the first time in 51 days my legs felt like lead. Little hills, which just yesterday I would have sprinted up, I now took in my easiest gear. After 40 or so miles of up and down I had enough and approached a local man sitting in his truck at a gas station. Now at the beginning of this trip my goal was not to ride the whole way but rather to spend time in the beautiful places and breeze through the bad. Since I rode all the way from Oregon to Virginia (3600 miles) without getting a ride I guess I didn't follow my own rule, but hey, there is no time like the present. At first the old boy told me he was headed the other way but he agreed to take me up to the top of the hill. As we drove about 8 or 10 miles I couldn't have been any happier. Two lanes in either direction with no shoulder at all was the road I would have been riding on, no fun at all, and then we hit the hill. What he drove me up in 10 or 15 minutes would have taken over an hour on the bike and today I just didn't have the legs. At the summit we bid each other a sincere farewell and each headed down the mountain, in opposite directions. About 10 miles later I pulled into Meadowville for lunch. When the trip began we all rode with shorts over our spandex cycling trunks but as the weather grew warmer and the hills became steeper we were all soon riding in our skin tight black trousers. Usually though, upon entering stores or small towns we would once again don our shorts to better blend. Towards the end of the trip I really could care less about such things and today was no exception as I walked into the small café with complete confidence. I expect to dine alone in such situations, as was doing so, but today a local by the name of Otis chatted with me and for that meal it was nice not to be the weird cyclist. After lunch only 15 miles remained between myself and Damascus, luckily with no major hills. Very soon I was in the town that had literally been reborn due to the popularity of the Appalachian Trail. A large sign said bikes so I pulled into the shop. In an hour I was being driven to Abingdon, Virginia where I am now and will catch a bus to Nashville. In that hour I showered and packed my bike and much of my belongings into a box. At 8:00 pm I will board a Greyhound bus and by 2:00 am Nashville will be mine.
Time is what I need to reflect on my 51 days of cycling across the America but I need no time to come to the following: whatever I do or wherever I go for the rest of my life may it be with you. Day 51 Continued and Day 52: Damascus to Abingdon to Knoxville to Nashville to Phoenix to Ontario to Oakland Sitting at the Abingdon Greyhound station I felt like an elitist knowing that soon I would be on an airplane while everyone else would be stuck on a bus. To my right sat a young, heavy and small white woman who immediately brought the poor white trash meme into my mind. Although I don't like judging people this way my initial assessment appears to have been accurate as she went on to tell a completely unknown family how she was going back to Michigan to take custody of her young daughter from an abusive husband. Earlier in the day I had spent several hours in an Abingdon bookstore and purchased "A Walk Across America" by Peter Jenkins. His story so mesmerized me that I was able to block out the woman and her troubles and relate what I had been through to his epic journey that began before I was born. For reentry into civilized life this was exactly the wisdom I needed and indeed what I sought on my trip. Countless times throughout the book (I finished it before Ontario), so powerfully was I affected that tears came to my eyes and I was forced to put the book down so as not to make a scene. As with the "Zen" book, I wish Peter's experiences and self realizations could have been imparted to me before the trip. My most memorable moments of the trip have been the unexpected things that happen, case in point… In Knoxville our bus received a new driver and although it was past midnight he addressed all of us over the PA before starting. As I was reading my book very little attention was paid to this man until his, shall we say sermon. And I quote, "with all my faith in our savior Jesus Christ I know I will get you to your destination safely", preached the man. But what really made me smile was that 80% of the occupants of that bus, most half asleep, all piped up with a hearty "Amen!" Six hours later and within one minute of getting off of the bus I was in a cab speeding to the airport. Around 3:00 am I had my spot setup on the airport carpet and closed my eyes. By 6:30 am life had once again permeated the structure so I slumbered over to the Southwest counter and bought a ticket to Oakland. By 8:00 am I was on the plane and in 45 minutes the plane will land in the same city. 51 days were required to bike from Oregon to Virginia but less than 24 hours were needed to get me home.
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