I Did It! (And Happy July 4th!)
I did it. It's over. I rode my bike across the USA. 3400+ miles, 15 states, 6 centuries, 100,000+ ft. of climbing, figure at least 99 bottles (or cans or drafts) of beer -- not on the wall but in my stomach!
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I can finally stop talking about it -- well, almost, as I feel compelled to share some final post-ride reflections and ramblings.
More than a week later, I'm still trying to process my "re-entry" into post-tour life. There's something oddly calming about engaging with solitary focus in a predictable daily routine, even if it leads to an unpredictable day, for seven weeks, and disengaging with most of the world during that time. Since returning, I've had to take a few moments each morning to remember where I am, reminding myself that I'm in my own bed in my own house. Many mornings while on tour I couldn't remember what state I was in, let alone the name of the town, as we moved every day except for rest days. In some ways, that was as much of a grind and challenge as the actual riding. But I'm not complaining. To the contrary, I'm already starting to wonder, "What's next?"
I recognize the privilege that exists in even embarking on such a journey - the cost of the trip, the time away from work, the household and spousal support. I take none of that lightly and feel blessed and grateful, as it was the journey of a lifetime. I wouldn't have traded the opportunity and experience for anything.
The Superlatives
I've now been asked several times questions such as "What was the best ride?," "What was the worst?" and "What surprised you the most?" So here are some superlatives from the trip.
- Longest ride: 115 miles on Day 5 from Blythe, CA to Wickenburg, AZ. There really was no place we could have stayed in between.
- Shortest ride: Technically 44 miles on Day 7 from Prescott to Cottonwood, AZ, but given the climbing involved, it didn't feel like it. Next shortest was Day 45 miles on Day 20 from Guymon, OK to Liberal, KS, including detour to Dorothy's House. Not sure of the reason for that, as we could've gone farther. I'm not counting the final 17-mile procession to Revere Beach.
- Most climbing in a day: 5,705 ft. on Day 6 from Wickenburg to Prescott, AZ, with the Vermont rides coming in as close seconds for elevation gain though over longer mileage.
- Longest climb: 18 miles (according to Garmin) through Cottonwood Canyon on the way to Flagstaff.
- Most annoying climbs: Missouri. Not sure why. They just were.
- Steepest climbs: I don't think anything required sustained climbing of more than 10-11% grade, though there were some short bursts that topped out around 15-16%.
- Highest elevation reached: 7,535 ft. between Santa Fe and Las Vegas, NM.
- Best ride: Tie between Las Vegas to Tucumcari (sounds of silence and remoteness)and Prescott to Cottonwood (complete with inexplicable tears of joy). Close seconds throughout Vermont. Ohio might've ranked but for the rain.
- Hardest ride: Albuquerque to Santa Fe (see below), because of conditions.
Donning warmer gear - Ride when you most questioned whether you could do this: Albuquerque to Santa Fe, when I was shaking so much from the cold and wet I couldn't keep my bike straight.
- Hardest thing about the trip: Something between arriving at yet another "Taco Bell hell" destination, with no beer in sight or proper dining options, and those first few pedal strokes each morning when some body parts cried out, "Not again!" Ironically, though, overall the physical riding wasn't the hardest, and got easier each day.
- Place that surprised the most: Kansas. Though I was ready to "get out of Dodge" and was thrilled to be able to say "It seems like we're not in Kansas any more," I dreaded it more than warranted. Also the poverty in northeastern New Mexico was striking.
- Friendliest people: People were generally good and friendly throughout. But I made the most "friends" in Wooster, OH, and Syracuse, NY.
- Least friendly drivers: With no offense to my friends from that Commonwealth, definitely the Mass-holes.
- Most flats (aka punctures): Erie to Buffalo, NY, with both interstates (I-10 and I-40) a close second for most of the group.
- Meanest dogs: New Mexico.
- Best state sign: Tie between Arizona (it had 2!) and New Mexico (the southwestern hues matched my bike best!), with Kansas close behind (I love sunflowers -- though I never saw any live ones in the Sunflower State). Albuquerque gets special mention for city signs and best match to my bike!
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| Two flats to boot! |
- Worst state sign: New Hampshire (it was non-existent on our route). Massachusetts was a close second.
- Best murals: Emporia, KS though there were many I loved.
A recent addition to Emporia, KS 
Somewhere in Indiana - Worst meal: Tie between Denny's in Grant's, NM and IHOP in Dodge City, KS.
- Best meal: They were each different, but I'll give top marks to Seasmoke in Troy, NY, the Vietnamese restaurant (Chi 'em EATS) in Emporia, KS, Noffy's Sandwich Shop and Pub in McPherson, KS, Nando Milano Trattoria in Champaign, IL, and Stella's Cafe in Las Vegas, NM.
- Most expensive meal: Atria in Flagstaff, AZ on first rest day.
- Best brewery: Junkyard Brewery outside Grants, NM.
- Best hotel: Duh, of course it was Bishop's Lodge, Santa Fe (off-tour with Ben).
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- Best tour hotel: Courtyard Marriott on Erie, PA rest day.
- Most unique hotel: The Historic Plaza Hotel in Las Vegas, NM, though I was never sold on the haunted stories.
- Worst hotel: The Best Western in Wickenburg was the most run-down (but friendly and in a good location); the Burlington, MA, hotel was the most in the midst of extensive (and loud) renovations, but I didn't actually sleep there. Most of the rest were too similar to meaningfully distinguish.
The Journey
For years, even decades, I have had a notion of riding my bike across the country (yes, this country, the USA, even though there are many smaller countries I could have chosen). I remember having a notion after Deena was born that she might do this with me when I turned 50 and she turned 17. Well, that didn't happen! While I did embark on a big journey at 50 (I climbed "that mountain" as my family sarcastically refers to my Kili climb), the cross-country ride was still in my head. I thought about it every time I flew from coast to coast, which was often. I tried to envision myself pedaling along those roads through the deserts of the west and the plains of the east, and wondering how I'd get across those mountains in the middle.
In 2017 I started to put a concrete plan into action for 2018, which would be my 55th birthday. I got the approval to take time off from work. I bought a new custom-fit, custom-painted bike (dubbed "Tropical Indecision" by those having to adjust to my ever-changing designs!). And I signed up for a tour with America by Bicycle (ABB) along a northern route from Oregon to New Hampshire.
But that plan never came to be. Sadly, in the fall of 2017, after losing my dad to Parkinson's in 2016, my mom was diagnosed with cancer (on top of her own Parkinson's, which was otherwise still being managed fairly well with medication). There were limited treatment options, and she declined them all. While I didn't know exactly what the next year would bring, I knew this was not a time to be away from home for nearly two months and get my head committed to the mental challenge of this ride. I'll never regret not going then, as my mom and I had much quality time together that summer while she was still feeling strong.
Fast forward to 2020, when I had signed up once again for the same trip. We all know what happened that year. COVID-19 also cancelled the trip in 2021. And just when travel was becoming feasible in 2022, we learned that the owner of ABB had died. After many months of uncertainty, it became clear the company was not running any trips that year.
While I could have taken all these developments as a sign that this trip was just not meant to be, I stubbornly persisted and sought a Plan B for 2023, which coincidentally was my 60th birthday year so it seemed somehow fitting. Camping and self-supported trips were not an option, leaving only two others that I could find: Trek Travel's trip along a northern route, which roughly tracked the ABB route I had been planning to ride, and Crossroads Cycling Adventures from LA to Boston, a southwest to northeast route. I ultimately eliminated the Trek option for a combination of price (it was more than 2x the cost) but mostly because of the more intimidating daily mileage, climbing, and intensity of pace (at least according to the Trek Travel consultants). So Crossroads it was!
The Ride
I enjoy riding my bike. It's one of my "peace places." Cycling is not only my primary fitness activity, but also a time and place to think, enjoy the outdoors, and, more recently, "read" lots of books (audio, that is). I typically ride the same routes, either out-and-back or loops from my house. Mileage varies depending on how much time I have, but on weekdays it's usually 15-20 miles a day, with 30-50 mile rides on the weekend. Needless to say, the thought of a point-to-point ride over 3400 miles averaging over 80 miles each day was thrilling yet totally intimidating and not like anything I had ever done. But it also meant every inch of road was an adventure, a road not-yet-travelled, offering something new to see, smell, feel, or think about.
We started from familiar territory -- Manhattan Beach, CA -- where I had been riding since the late 1980's when I lived in LA and ridden many times since over the years, including during our extended stint in Santa Monica during COVID in 2020.
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| March 2023 |
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| Official wheel dip |
I also had fairly recently been to Palm Springs, and previously visited places like Sedona, Jerome, and Santa Fe (though those trips were decades ago). The trip brought me through three "new" states: Oklahoma, Kansas, and Missouri. And while I had visited, or at least driven through, all the others on the route, I had not traveled the precise route we were taking, or experienced it the way we were doing it. So it was all new in its own way.
There's something distinct about viewing terrain at 15 mph (or in my case, often slower!). You notice the wildflowers, the patterns in the fields, the brand of silos (I came to recognize Harvestore as the most common throughout the country, typically with their signature American flag).
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| Harvestore silo with American flag |
You hear birds, barking dogs (which became a good motivator to pick up the pace), tractors, lawnmowers. You marvel at the light through the clouds, search for rainbows when storms threaten, read road signs and historical markers you'd not otherwise have noticed. You wistfully inhale pine scent and hold your nose past cattle feed lots. You notice that dairy farms smell different than feed lots -- not necessarily better, just different.
You pass roadside memorials, and wonder what happened, feeling a bit sad, as they typically marked the passing of someone before their time. You contemplate the veterans celebrated by virtually every town, with flags, photos, statues, and VFW displays. You notice that your own town, Englewood, NJ, does not do this, and wonder why not. You wave to strangers on their porches, driving tractors, and in horse-driven buggies. They wave back. The bikers on 9W not so much so.
You get rained on. You sweat in the desert heat, even though it's dry. You sweat more in midwestern humidity, even though the thermometer does not read as hot. You enjoy a cool breeze in the sunshine on those glorious days when you think "I could do this all day," and then realize that's exactly what you'll be doing.
You also have lots of time in your own head, to think, talk, sing, or literally just space out and take it all in. And you don't have much else to do other than get from point A to point B. You play games with the mileage metrics to help get you there. I've ridden 10 miles. I have less than 80 miles to ride. It's only 59.9 miles more -- that's less than a metric century. I've ridden more miles than I have to ride (the pivotal halfway point). I have only 20-15-10-5 miles to go. I can do this. I've got this. The dirty little secret of this trip is that you just have to keep pedaling. If you do, you will get there. If you don't, it's unlikely you will (though there were some screamin' downhills!)
Though some rode in packs or pacelines to varying degrees, for the most part I did not. While I might've benefited from a "pull" at times (and did partake occasionally), I never found another rider or group of riders who rode quite at the same pace (at least not consistently so), and the times I did draft behind someone I found all I was looking at was their butt and rear wheel, terrified of making a wrong move that might take out another rider. So I generally rode on my own, happy enough to see a friendly face along the route, even if they were passing me as if I were standing still!
The Routine
With each passing day, we fell more and more into a routine. For me, the morning consisted of waking at 5 a.m., with an occasional gift of another 10-minute snooze. Bathroom routine, pack, and dress before 6 a.m. Learn balancing act allowing transport of two duffels and bike in one trip to lobby. Breakfast at 6 and done by 6:25. Fill water bottles. Second bathroom routine. Out to route rap by 6:45. Pump tires if need be. From Albuquerque onward, lead the Route Rap Rappers in ruining yet another song for anyone listening. Route rap by Paula. Roll by 7 a.m....until you get there, wherever "there" was.
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| A delicate balancing act! |
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| Fortunately we didn't have to ride with these bags -- I only had to carry them down to the front of the hotel to be loaded on the van! |
Afternoon routines varied, depending on how long the route was, whether it ended in the proverbial Taco Bell hell (which it usually did), and whether you passed through the local town on the way to Taco Bell hell or had to ride further to reach it. Lunches were relatively non-existent, as the tour didn't provide them. On most days, there was a second SAG, comprised of varying degrees of nutrition (more often gus/gels/bars with occasional cheese sticks or trail mix). I generally didn't want to stop for any real lunch unless I was within "beer" distance of the hotel (ideally less than 3 miles). So it became challenging to time appropriate nutrition and late afternoon/post-ride food, as dinner was usually at 5. As the tour progressed, I prioritized where I wanted to eat over when, and often just had a light bite at dinner in favor of self-selected food at a late lunch if it was available.
Either way, on return to the hotel after the day's ride, it was shower/rinse clothes/hang clothes/charge electronics time. The blog usually followed dinner, sometimes over a beer at a local bar, if there was one. It was a commitment and a time-suck but I'm so glad I did it -- otherwise the entire trip would be a blur!
The Route
While this LA to Boston (actually, Manhattan Beach to Revere Beach) route had its challenges, there was something appropriate about starting in LA, where I used to live, met Ben, got married, have a daughter living, and have spent so much time. I always loved the drama and expanse of the desert scenery (notwithstanding the "bad animals"), as it is so foreign to my coastal Long Island childhood home. And I'm not sure I otherwise would have had an occasion to spend so much time in the so-called "flyover" states such as Kansas as I did on this trip. So the route itself had some appeal.
The biggest challenge and downside to the route was amount of time spent on interstates and busier state highways. At times it could not be avoided on this route, as they were the only way to get from point A to point B -- but it does make you wonder whether that would be a good reason to explore alternative routes (for example, rerouting from point C to D) to avoid them. We had some big climbing days, mostly during the first and last weeks of the trip, and spent some time out west at noticeable elevation (over 7000 ft.), but for the most part the climbs were not that long or steep, and for days were non-existent. Some of the best rides were the climbing days (like in Arizona and Vermont), and I'm not a stellar climber. Ohio might have provided some of the best riding but for all the rain. In the end, the NY/VT portion, while not as dramatic as the western scenery, may have offered the days I'd most want to ride again, at least given the conditions we had those days.
Admittedly, some of the roads were boring in the traditional sense. Sometimes they stretched on seemingly endlessly, without a curve or hill in sight. But I tried make the best of it and notice those things I wouldn't otherwise see or think about. Like the patterns in the fields, and how they look alive when viewed in motion. Or the patterns of the telephone poles and windmills. I became intrigued by the interplay between the railways and farming, the moving of grain to silos to trucks to trains, and how it all somehow makes it into the food we eat each day. You couldn't ignore the politics either, though given my goal of keeping this a "positivity" tour, I tried not to focus on or write much about that. Let's just say that the only signs saying anything about our current president (the one who was elected in 2020) weren't exactly positive. It all was a stark reminder of the division in this country, in a visceral sense.
The Ride Support
Some have asked what it means to be on a "supported" ride (in contrast to self-supported). Crossroads provided logistical support throughout the trip (meaning the routes and hotels were all pre-arranged), SAG (support and gear) stops during the rides, mechanical support, and van transport if needed. It worked something like this.
The "early" group left at 7 a.m., once it was formed (a day too late IMHO, as the early departure would've really helped on the longest of all ride days, before the group split). The "fasties" and others left at 7:30. There were three vehicles. Tom drove the Penske truck which carried all our gear. (I wonder if I'll ever see a Penske van and not think of the trip?) Vans 1 and 2 were white minivans with the Crossroads logo driven by a combo of Paula and Dana and the other "rider support" crew (which fluctuated during the trip) who took turns riding the route and driving the second van. The vehicles would leapfrog the riders throughout the day, stopping at various points along the route until most riders passed, then moving ahead until all were close to the hotel, but remained available if called to retrieve a rider in need of mechanical help or a ride. After second SAG, the truck typically went ahead to the hotel, though it became a game to see if the "fasties" could beat it there (and occasionally did). Fortunately, no one ever needed serious emergency medical attention or left the trip due to illness or accident, which apparently was a first. Generally I felt supported throughout the ride, though I was often last to the hotel when the truck and vans were already off the road.
While we were all expected to be able to change a flat (or a puncture, according to the Brits), and I think most actually could and did so at some point, the crew were quick to help if they saw you along the side of the road. Twice I swapped out new tires (which we did not carry on our bikes) during a ride day. Once it was non-optional, as there was a huge gash in my rear tire outside of Palm Springs, and Paula and Dana pulled up in the van just as it happened. The other time was a bit of preventive maintenance, as I had had multiple punctures in the same tire and wanted to ward off any more. By the time I had gotten the tire off the rim, Tom showed up with the truck. 
A few riders had more serious mechanical and equipment issues. Early on, one rider's electronic shifters failed, and neither the Crossroads team nor the then-local Palm Springs bike shop could fix it. So he bought a new bike. Mid-tour, during a routine safety check, they discovered a crack in another rider's bike frame (it wasn't even carbon fiber). He, too, bought a new bike. Fortunately it was a rest day in Emporia, KS where they had a bike shop with one available in his size, and he didn't even have to forego EFI.
Near the end of the tour, another rider had a damaged derailleur that needed to be replaced. Fortunately, it was on a day when another rider of similar enough size was attending a wedding and not riding, so she too was able to achieve EFI by riding another bike while the Crossroads crew sorted out a replacement part and repair for her bike. My bike survived fairly unscathed, though in need of much love and many replacement parts, including a derailleur hanger, new chain, and cassettes -- but at least it survived the entire tour without much incident.
The People I Met
I've always enjoyed random interactions with strangers, whether at an airport, a local bar, or strolling along the beach. Early on, I made it a mission to engage with locals, whether staff, guests, or fellow diners/drinkers, wherever we were, and felt most energized on those days when I did. I've mentioned something about all of them elsewhere in the blog, but here's an assortment of folks who I met along the way and who enhanced my journey in some way. Despite the failings of my short-term memory these days, I remember each of these people, even if their names may elude me.
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| Our server at SeaSmoke in Troy who's heading to law school. |
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| Ebae who helped get me to a room with a quieter AC unit and gave me blessings. |
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| The delightful hostess at Pastabilities who greeted me like family. |
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| My new friends at The Retreat in Liverpool, outside Syracuse |
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| Friends from Pastabilities |
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| My 92-yr-old friend from the Retreat |
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| Another friend from the Retreat who tried to help with Peter's tire |
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| Caleb, the extraordinary bartender at Pastabilities |
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| Carolina at Chili's in Victor who tolerated our most ridiculous group dinner |
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| The bartender at the food court in Erie |
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| Biker Bob -- FB friend so not a total stranger but we hadn't before met in person. |
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| Bartender at City Square Steakhouse in Wooster, Ohio |
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| Rod at City Square Steakhouse, who was like the mayor -- and who generously donated to my ride! |
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| Bartender at the Half Pint in Marysville who was from Revere Beach |
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| Sisters selling great zucchini bread at local farmer's market |
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| Local at a SAG stop who sees the Crossroad riders each year -- on his way to the beach in Indiana |
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| Patty, another guest at our Champaign rest day hotel |
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| Bartender at a lunch stop |
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| Bartender at Ladro Enoteca in downtown Champaign, IL |
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| Farmer John at Marysville, OH Historical Society |
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| My tour guide to the dome of the Topeka Capitol Building |
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| Mary, one of the hotel breakfast managers, most dedicated to getting us what we needed and making our days better |
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| My server at the awesome Vietnamese restaurant in Emporia, KS |
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| Adam, the bartender at Noffy's in McPherson, KS - who also donated to my ride! |
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| A server who shared her spiritual journey with me |
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| Host at the Hooker (OK) Chamber of Commerce |
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| Dorothy in Liberal, KS |
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| Farmers I had a great chat with after dinner |
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| Our server at one of our lunchtime breweries |
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| She and her husband made us the best croissants in Las Vegas, NM! |
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| Frank, the owner of Stella's Cafe in Las Vegas, NM |
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| Barbie the artist and her husband at the hotel bar in Las Vegas, NM |
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| Chief "smoker" at the Junk Yard Brewery in Gallup, NM |
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| Great bartender at the Gallup hotel bar |
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| Bar friend from a nearby hotel that actually had a bar in Gallup, NM |
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| Gas station attendant selling me much needed post-ride beer |
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| Kiele at Atria "proper" dinner on Flagstaff rest day |
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| Bartender at Mexican restaurant adjacent to Cottonwood hotel with take out beer |
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| Wine store merchant before descent from Jerome, AZ |
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| Ghosthunters in Jerome, AZ |
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| Our server at the Haunted Hamburger |
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| A kind stranger whose kind and inspirational words helped power me through a tough day |
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| The postmaster general of Desert Center, CA |
Observations and Lessons Learned
Keeping with the format of my rest day ramblings, I'll note these in no order of importance...
- We live in a very religious country. That's not a bad thing -- it's just a fact. In talking to many people I learned that their religious beliefs and practices and church communities helped them through bad times and may have literally saved their lives.
- I didn't see a synagogue until we were about 9 miles from Revere Beach.
- Most people mow their own lawns. Many of them are women. I didn't notice any contracted gardening services until we are outside of Boston. They are ubiquitous in Englewood, NJ.
- People are generally good. But some drivers really hate cyclists.
- Strangers can be very generous, with blessings, bathrooms, and even money.
- Many people have some personal connection to Parkinson's Disease. We all agree it sucks.
- Most people were positively impressed by our journey, responding with comments like "Damn, that's far" or "That's F'in Awesome!" Others just asked, "Why? Don't you know there are planes for that?"
- I've said it before, and I'll say it again -- there are a lot of farms in this country.
- This is mostly a patriotic country that honors its veterans.
Some places do so more than others. - Most towns have civic pride. They welcome you to the town and thank you for visiting when you leave. Some lay claim to founding something or other. Or being or having the best or most of something.
- Some have more colorful or creative signs than others.
- Sometimes they claim to be the "home" of one thing or another.
- Others brag about their athletic accomplishments or those who lived there.
- Road quality and surfaces vary widely. But putting a rumble strip in the middle of a narrow shoulder makes no sense.
- Route 66 was once a vibrant, bustling gateway to the west. Not so anymore.
- The branded hotel chain business is bustling. Many hotels we stayed in were sold out, much to my surprise, and the fact that I never would have otherwise contemplated staying in any of them. Truth be told, they offer a comforting degree of predictability, generally good mattresses, and ample electrical outlets. Some even had USB ports. They all had ironing boards and guest laundry.
- Some hotel chains are better than others. But after staying in 40+ of them, I couldn't tell you which are which, except to note that Best Westerns were more often than not the worst, or at least the most rundown.
- New experiences on this trip I'd be happy not to repeat including eating in Applebee's, Denny's, or Texas Longhorn -- and using the guest laundry.
- I really like Dairy Queen shakes, though I have to bike a lot to allow myself to have them.
- I haven't done Spelling Bee in 2 months. Or Wordle. Or the NYT crossword puzzle. This freed up so much time I could bike across the country!
- I haven't decided whether to resume Spelling Bee/Wordle/Crosswords.
- I purposefully disconnected from news and politics on the ride. I'm having a hard time reengaging or feeling that there's anything to gain by doing so. I occasionally wonder if I missed anything. I guess time will tell.
- I miss the routine and commitment of riding my bike each day (and the calories I burned doing so)!
- Ben and I used to bike together all the time. I'm hoping we can figure out how to do that again. Perhaps I should buy him a new bike!
- I like touring by bicycle.
- I now notice things on my local rides that I have never seen before. Since returning, I have noticed a Veteran's Memorial in Piermont, two pieces of rusted farm equipment (like those we saw all across the country) adorning lawns as decoration, a "turtle crossing" sign, turtle roadkill (someone didn't heed the warning sign), fog over the Hudson River, and flags displayed on a bridge over a reservoir. Maybe one day I'll stop and take pictures of them, too.
- My parents would've thought I was crazy to do this ride. But they would've been proud of my accomplishment.
- I'm proud of my accomplishment, even though it doesn't seem as impressive now that I've completed it.
- What will I do for my 70th? Or my 65th? Should I even wait that long?
- Grateful is supposedly the highest emotion on the so-called "mood elevator." I feel very grateful.
- Speaking of which, a few thank you's, to:
- The Practical Law Labor & Employment team for supporting my ride, cheering me on, and covering for me while I was gone.
- Thomson Reuters' sabbatical program and making time off for this ride possible.
- Tenafly Bicycle Workshop, for sourcing and servicing my beautiful Alchemy Helios.
- Mara Miller of Double Star Coaching for preparing me physically, mentally, and in every way for this endeavor.
- The Crossroads crew, for getting everyone from start to finish safely, and all else they did behind the scenes to make this trip happen.
- The Route Rap Rappers, for making every day better when it starts with a song, no matter how off key it may be.
- The rest of the Crossroads riders, for supporting one another along the road, sourcing breweries, finding restaurants, and being my tour family for 7 weeks!
- United Airlines, for transporting my bike in one piece.
- Anna, Lucia, Alejandra, and Mauricio of Barking Barney's Doggie Day Care, for their ever-loving care of Bondi.
- All those who so generously donated to Team Fox in support of my ride. As of this writing I've raised more than $37,000!!!
- Those of you who so diligently read this blog before bed or with your morning coffee, sent texts, comments, and podcast recommendations, and cheered me on throughout -- it was all so motivating.
- Deena, for arranging my send off dinner and getting up at the crack of dawn to see me off in Manhattan Beach, and Alana for her dog-sitting services and coming to greet me in Boston -- and both of them for supporting my ride and thinking their mom is bad-ass!
- And Ben, for supporting the ride, listening to me talk about it for so many years, coming to visit in Santa Fe, giving me a "pass" to miss his big birthday, coming to the finish, bragging about me to his work colleagues who donated to my ride, being proud of me, and being the best partner in love and life I could hope for!
In Case You're Thinking of a Cross-Country Bike Ride...
A few final thoughts designed to answer some of the many questions I had before this ride...and do feel free to reach out if you have any more. I lost a bit of steam on this part, but you can message me on FaceBook here: https://www.facebook.com/barbara.harris.50552.
Equipment
What do you need for a ride like this? Ahhh, typical of the true lawyer response, the answer is "It depends."
Bike and Accessories
The type and quality of the bikes on this trip varied as much as the fitness, training, and experience of the riders. I rode my custom-fitted, custom-painted carbon fiber Alchemy Helios. While I may be biased, I think it was the prettiest bike on tour. It also matched particularly well with the Southwest palette!
It has disc brakes, but does not have electronic shifters -- a decision I was happy about on this trip, as several had some stresses with that equipment, and it would've been one more piece of equipment to charge. I'm not sure of the exact percentages, but I'd guess about 50% of the riders or more had disc brakes. Maybe 30% (or fewer?) had electronic shifters.
I have Enve carbon fiber rims, with 28" tires. The rims are tubeless compatible but I didn't run tubeless tires (the company does not support or recommend using them with the gunky stuff needed to self-seal them -- and given the inevitability of flats and roadside repairs no matter what you're running, I can see why). Most riders had Continental Gatorskin tires. I started with some Pirellis, but the tour stocked Gatorskins so that's what I used once I had to replace them.
I'm not sure of my exact gearing, but I have a compact setup with 34 as the lowest gearing in the rear. It was sufficient to get me up anything on the tour. (Can you tell I'm not a total gear geek?)
The most common bike on tour was the Trek Domane. A couple riders had upright handlebars on hybrid bikes. Another rode an older steel-framed bike with bar-end shifters. One bike weighed a ton (or so we all joked), laden with rear racks and bags and even a kickstand! Basically, it all boiled down to a combination of what riders were most comfortable with and what they could afford.
The most important part of the bike equipment may be the seat. Mine is a Selle Italia woman-specific seat with a cut-out. There's no degree of preparation -- short of actually doing a similar tour -- that readies you for the toll a seat can take on those body parts that touch it. If your seat hurts now, it will do so exponentially on a cross-country tour. So experiment, and do the best you can -- then be prepared to adjust along the way.
At a minimum, all riders had a small seat pack with spare tubes and CO2 cartridges. Many used a small top tube bag (my bike doesn't accommodate one -- too small to fit anything and still allow me to straddle the bike). I sometimes used a Moosepacks handlebar bag, which I removed when it was particularly windy. A few carried backpacks and/or camelpacks. We were required to have a camelpack for the desert portion. Once I started using it, I used it for the rest of the trip. Others packed theirs away never to be seen again. And the rider with the bike that weighed a ton could've traveled for a week with the size of his packs! So once again, it was all a matter of rider preference.
Technology
All riders had some device recording their ride (if it's not on Strava it didn't happen!) and providing route guidance, though many also used "hard-copy" cue sheets as a supplement. I used a Garmin Edge 1030, which has a decent-sized color map screen, along with other riding metrics. The Garmin can be quirky (like telling you to make a U-turn at random times) but basically got me where I needed to go. My "back up" was the RidewithGPS files we were provided for the ride which I downloaded for offline use on my phone (I found running the app while riding drained my phone battery too quickly). I also usually kept a small portable phone/Garmin charger with me for emergencies, but the Garmin held the charge even on the longest days and the phone almost always did the same, with a few exceptions.
Rear lights were mandatory, and I used a Garmin Varia light with radar that I had purchased for the trip. It's amazing how much visibility a flashing rear light can provide -- I could see other riders miles up the road -- and I'm now a convert who will not ride without one. The only glitch was that this light died on the longer rides -- it was good for maybe 5-6 hours, but often my days were longer.
I had purchased but ultimately did not use a front headlight as well. I couldn't use both that and the handlebar bag, so opted for the latter. We were never riding in darkness, so it wasn't needed to illuminate the road, but might've been helpful on a few of those rainy days or foggy mornings.
Clothing and Packing
You need less than you think you do. Really. Like it or not, you will be washing your "kit" each night. They smell too badly to repack, even in plastic bags. So while you may need two of them (in case they don't dry), you likely don't need much more. Maybe a few different weights or variety of sleeved and sleeveless jerseys. I recommend two different brands or styles of shorts. The ones you think are the most comfortable may have seams or irritants you don't notice until the 80-90-100 mile mark. My "go-to" shorts (Terry) turned out to chafe in some places that my other Pearlizumi didn't (and vice versa). So alternating between them was key.
You also need some degree of rain gear coverage or layers for colder weather. I used a lightweight Pactimo shell that was relatively waterproof, and had leg coverings (but no booties), full fingered gloves, and long-sleeved layers on the top. Some had thin down jackets they claim saved them on the coldest, wettest day in New Mexico.
Evenings are super casual. One or two tee shirts, one pair of shorts, and one pair of pants is probably sufficient. I personally didn't wear much underwear, as I needed to air things out after 7-10 hours in bike shorts. Speaking of which, for the women, having a long enough dress or skirt where you can do that (go commando) comfortably is highly recommended! It also allows for quick lobby or parking lot changes if you want to peel off your shorts before hotel rooms are ready.
Aches and Ailments
With a group averaging around 60 years of age, this was inevitable and varied from person to person. Some had crippling back issues, though they could more easily ride than walk. Others had arthritis of the knees which posed challenges for the hillier days. Some were constipated in the early days and literally cheered when that issue resolved.
But almost all of us suffered some degree of saddle sores or down under ailments. I ultimately found my combination of creams and ointments kept it under control, combined with varying cycling short brands. Be prepared for some discomfort and try to be proactive and preventive.
Training
This, too, varied among the riders. Some were super fit and had had done extensive bike touring in the past. At least one said she hadn't been on her bike (or even a trainer) since November. Most did some degree of training specifically for the tour, but those living in flatter parts of the country struggled to find training for the hills.
To some extent, I had been training physically and mentally for this trip since 2017. But beginning in January 2023, when we were fortunate to spend a couple months in California, I started working remotely with a trainer (Mara Miller of Double Star Coaching) who put me on a training plan specifically designed to meet this cross-country challenge, with the secondary aim of getting me a bit faster (not for race or performance purposes, but because faster speed translates to less time in the saddle each day). The training took into account that I was still working full-time, and had life to contend with when I wasn't, so it was a realistic time commitment of 1-2 hours a day during the week, with more on the weekends. It combined training drill rides, distance rides, strength training and yoga, and even built in a day off for me to take myself to lunch. Mara got me focused on hydration (the water and electrolyte kind) and nutrition (pre-, post-, and during-ride), ensured I had all the appropriate equipment and clothing for the ride, and even helped me sort, organize, and pack my gear before the ride. She was an absolute pleasure to work with and I'd wholeheartedly recommend her to anyone considering a journey like this.
Bike Transport
Most riders used Bike Flight to ship their bikes to the start, unless they lived within driving distance of Manhattan Beach. This required shipping the bike some time in advance of the ride, plus the cost of transport and a fee to reassemble the bike in LA. The riders from the UK traveled with their bikes (typically packed in boxes) and had them assembled by the Crossroads team once they arrived.
While I was tortured about this decision, I ultimately travelled with my SciCon soft bike case which has now criss-crossed the country with me many times. It doesn't require any real disassembly, other than removing the wheels, though as an extra precaution this time I removed the derailleur as well. I wrote nice things to the United Airlines and TSA staff on the case, though I'm not sure that made any difference! Admittedly, I was a nervous wreck until my United app confirmed that the bike had been loaded on the plane. But it all arrived with me in one piece, so it worked. I then used Luggage Free to ship the case back home. Ultimately, this was a cost-efficient option, as United didn't charge extra for the bike, and Luggage Free was only about $75 to retrieve and deliver the bike the bag back across the country to NJ. (It did, however, require me to use Uber XL for my airport runs, given the size of the bike bag, so it increased travel costs a bit in that respect.)
Blogging
Whether or not anyone reads it, I highly recommend blogging about the trip in some form. Detailed Facebook posts or traditional journaling might also do the trick. But it was hard enough to remember what happened during each day, let alone the day or week before, and if I hadn't done it, the entire trip would have been a blur and jumble of lots of un-captioned photos.
I used Blogspot, which is hosted by Google and was relatively easy to set up. However, I think other platforms provide better aesthetics. I particularly liked the blogs of those who used WordPress. I don't think it's much more complicated, though there was something that prevented me from using it when I first set this up. Once I started with Blogspot, I was committed. I hope to convert this to a hard-copy book using one of the many websites that provide this service, as I fear one day the whole lot of these posts may become "unavailable."
Closing Thoughts
I'm having a hard time "finishing" this blog, and finding myself missing the daily rides and routines, perhaps the simplicity of life and singularity of focus while on tour most of all. This ride has been a physical and mental goal for me for so long it's hard to put it in the rearview mirror and move forward. I find myself thinking (yes, already) about what the next challenge might be, and when. But for now, I'll try to savor the accomplishment as I return to my day job!Wishing all a happy July 4th celebrating this great, diverse, vast country of ours! A final lean for the road from today's ride.
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| Patriotic Piermont lean |
