Ridin' Dirty

J-Muffin: future photojournalist?

2008-09-24T03:23:00.000-07:00

Blatantly stealing this pics from J-Muffin. But really, who knew? I saw him with a camera here and there, but I never expected these.

TNRP

Montana, undoubtably.

ND Storm

Glacier

More Glacier

TNRP

Ride into Chicago. Indiana dirt road.

Probably Vermont.

Glacier

Definately Montana.

Better photos of the flooding.

Sunrise into Glacier. I'm so glad someone got a pic of the red light on that rock.

Up Washington Pass.

The day Muffin went off to climb a butte.

OK, that was not Montana, it was western ND, which is what Montana wish it had going for it.

Wisconsin

Sunrise on the ride to Devil's Lake.

Up Washington.

Lake George.

I wish I had of photo of myself like that.

Who else but Dan?

Sunrise in Glacier

Evanston, IL

Probably ND.

My favorite.

Final thoughts on the Bike and Build experience

2008-09-12T06:33:00.000-07:00

(I was editing this for a while, see post dated sept 3)

Little bits

2008-09-05T20:53:00.001-07:00

So I went to DePauw University to visit my friend Ellen last night. I mentioned my trip to her roommate, who instantly exclaimed, "Oh, I know someone who did that!" With little prompting, she called this guy on campus and he stopped by to chat after dinner. Was this a seemingly weird opening to call him and invite him over to meet and reminisce? Probably. But the Bike and Build bond is strong; plus, I'm in withdrawl so I needed someone, anyone to talk to about cue sheets and wind and Brendan Newman.

So the guy Neil shows up and we get to talking. Neil was a P2SF rider. Anyways, long story short, he verified what I already knew: our trip was the shiz. They had people drop out, ride in the van, get cliqu-ey, hook up and all sorts of other dysfunctional mayhem. And he didn't have great things to say about his leaders. Basically, the opposite of the experience we had.

In other news, my mom is desperately trying to get mentioned on the blog. Since she is the sole benefactor of the Kathy's Party Across the U.S. and Through Europe Fund, I'll go ahead and indulge her. So she's come up with a new name for my bike (couldn't this just be the name for my bike in France?): Pinky Tuscadero. If you ever watched 'Happy Days' (i.e. are over the age of 40), you would know Pinky from her relationship with the Fonz. She was a tough-talkin' biker chick with a penchant for bad boys. My mother finds this a perfect analogy for me.

Speaking of analogies and my mother, I had to explain to her why I was christened with the road name Ms. Frizzle. This one has a different age requirement: under 25. Ms. Frizzle is the key character in the PBS series 'The Magic School Bus," in which students and their teacher Ms. Frizzle go on adventures to discover various topics, including shrinking themselves to microscopic size to discover the human body and the chemistry of cakes. And let's not forget when the bus turned itself into a bat and flew around with a colony (a colony is the term for a group of bats, why weren't you paying attention when Ms. Frizzle told us that?). Anywho, Ms. Frizzle is off her rocker. She's got bright red hair and a massive nose. Her outfits are always in the theme of the topic (as in, dresses with body parts, chemical equipment, and sleeping bats), so bad that, upon viewing, even the fashion police would develop a case of melting eyeball flesh. In all, it's a pretty apt analogy. Actually, it's just about perfect:

"Oh, no. It's Hurricane Theodore! Quick; hide next to the toilet with the huge crap inside!"

That's all for now; the closing letter is coming, I promise!

Final thoughts on the Bike and Build experience

2008-09-03T21:00:00.000-07:00

How can I begin to describe what this summer has meant to me? Perhaps I should start by telling you what I've told everyone else since arriving home:

Bike and Build was the best thing I have ever done.

And perhaps that is a bit preposterous to say. How could I rank my experience this summer above my high school, college, and running careers? It's a tough sell, giving Bike and Build so much credit. But I'll give it a try.

When I think on all the things I've done the past 20 years, Bike and Build stands at the forefront of my mind due to the intensity of the experience. In 10 weeks, we adjusted to a totally different lifestyle. We built 29 new friendships. We stayed at 60 overnight locations. We rode 4000 miles. That's quite a bit of stimuli.

In Ashtabulah we were met by and had dinner with one of last year's riders. Early as it was in the trip, we were all eager to hear about what was in store. Someone from the group asked what the most memorable part of his trip was, and the answer seemed rather absurd. "I could talk to you for 15 minutes on every single day of the trip; that's how much I remember," he claimed. Now that I am in his position, I see he's right. There are years to my life I cannot speak for 15 minutes about; yet I can recount in detail 70 consecutive days this summer. Every single day stands out, for every single day was an adventure.

The other mission of the trip was service. Now I'll grant that addressing the issue of affordable housing was not high on my list of Reasons to do Bike and Build. But during the course of the trip I did gain an appreciation and loyalty for this cause. And perhaps not in a way any of us expected. What stirred me was my own lack of a home. Every night this summer I did have a place to stay. But shelter doesn't equal security. Or peace of mind. The disquiet I experienced not having a place to call my own was immense. Owning a home goes far beyond having a roof over your head, it is provides an emotional wellbeing that no person should be denied, especially children. I plan to continue my involvement with affordable housing organizations in the years to come.

Another thing which struck me about our service was the way in which we accomplished our mission. It was fun! It was damn fun. Throughout my life I've considered the notion that perhaps my life was meant to be spent in the service of others. The thing which has always held me back is the notion that living for others and living for oneself are mutually exclusive. This trip demonstrated that is not the case. I can accomplish the things I want (ride across the country) yet simultaneously do things for others (raising funds, participating on builds). This is the model I will continue to use in my future.

So why does this trip, the perfect fusion of adventure and service, hold so much meaning for me? Why do all these seemingly unrelated aspects come together to form what I consider to be my best experience to date?

Every experience up to the day I started Bike and Build has done well to shape my character. I've learned who I am and what I love doing. Along the way I have met with challenges and made amazing friends, which has further helped turn me into this person you see before you now. Bike and Build, while it has continued this trend of forming who I am, has done something more. It has shown me how I want to live my life.

That's not to say I want to spend my time as a hobo bike rider who periodically yells at people for not doing their chores. More broadly, I'd like to live every day as an adventure. I want to wake up every morning excited for what the day has in store. I want to be surrounded with those who share this enthusiasm. And I want my work to be in the service of others.

Perhaps you have scrolled the length of my page to see a small Carolina blue ribbon. The ribbon is for Eve Carson, former student body president of UNC who was killed this spring, her final semester at UNC. Eve resonated with me. People said she was excited by everything (in fact, many noted that you always knew an email or note was from Eve because there were a lot of exclamation points!!!) and she was always busy with projects of all kinds. Eve had made trips all over the world and was a pre-med student and she just happened to be the student head of the best public school in the nation. When Eve passed away, it hit me hard. I saw in her the person I wanted to be. (And as a note, she would have LOVED Bike and Build.)

Eve's death was a reminder of how precious our time in the world is. Bike and Build spoke to me because I was LIVING every day. It was a window into the life I plan to lead.

I can't really think of anything else to say, other than to thank everyone for reading the blog and thank parents for sending their kids on this trip. It was the best thing I have ever done (thus far ;-P)!!!!!!!!!!

Presentation Video

2008-09-03T08:37:00.001-07:00

Compliments of Anson and Kevin (I love Moxie Bomb Productions). Mad props, guys.

The Final Countdown

2008-08-31T13:55:00.000-07:00

Before I write my closing comments on the Bike and Build trip, there's some things to cover.

Let's start by recapping some of the best quotes from the day we scaled Washington pass:

"(upon stepping from his sleeping quarters inside the van) Oh, it's raining?" -Brendan Newman

"Never a bad day to ride." -back of Craig's jacket
"What about today, you SOB?" -me

"Does anyone know if it's raining at lunch?" -John R., huddled in the bathroom, 10 miles from the lunch site
"Yes, John. I biked 10 miles down to the bottom of the pass and then came back here just so I could give you the weather report." -Joy

"(upon entering the bathroom with 10 freezing riders inside) Oh, you guys are cold? These German tourists just invited me into their trailer and gave me hot coffee." -Brendan Newman

"If we had woken up at 9, none of this would have happened." -J-Muff

"I wish I were fatter; I wish I had cankles." -Sharon

"That was the best dollar I have ever spent." -Derek, on buying 8 min worth of hot shower water

"(literally the second thing she said to me) You'll have to point out that administrator to me." -Mary Ellen

"The bad news is, I nearly died. The good news is, I didn't." -Ian

"(spoken days later in Vancouver) You wanna know how I got over Washington Pass? I was drunk!" -Zack

So the day we rode out of Herman Melville Campground or whatever it was called, we went to Lynden, WA. I rode with Jessie until lunch where we picked up Bobby and Christopher. The ride was beautiful (and flat!) and my company was top-notch. To amuse ourselves, we scoped out places for a naked mile (stripping down and riding naked for a mile, apparently a bike and build tradition) and ran through our Disney song repertoire for non-existent double entendre. Alas, the roads were never deserted enough for the mile, but we shared laughs over songs like "Be A Man" and "A Whole New World."

Not much went on in Lynden for me: I literally did not leave the church grounds in the two days we were there. I was exhausted.

A really funny thing came out after the days ride just as we were finishing dinner (fortunately we were done eating as per the nature of this tale). That afternoon, lunch was held in this gravel lot next to some train tracks. There wasn't much around in terms of bathrooms, save some shrubbery. Now if you know me, you know I have no qualms about dropping trow and relieving myself whereever (as demonstrated this very trip when I peed over the edge of my bike while still strattling it so as to keep immunity during Assassins). So as I was leaving, I found a prime spot and did my business.

That night, people began telling the story of Kristen's mishap at lunch. Kristen went to the bathroom at lunch, and when she came back to where everyone was eating, Maki asked, "What smells like shit all of a sudden?" Glacing down, Kristen realizes there is a huge glob of poo on her shoes. They wound up making it to a gas station several miles later where Kristen cleaned her shoe off in the sink (I feel sorry for the next person using THAT sink).

Now all along this trip, there has been an unspoken standard of secrecy about these kinds of events. It began with "No Chew Spew," the unknown rider who puked up whole potato squares on the massive hill outside Silver Bay. Then there was the person who puked in the toilet and didn't clean it off the seat the first night in Vancouver. And it was only through intense questioning that we got Dae to admit he was the one who left the giant turd in the toilet the night of Hurricane Theodore (yes, we slept right next to it). It's understandable why people don't want to divulge this information. It's proprietous to spare people these details; but more importantly, they are probably pretty ashamed of it all.

I find it hilarious. That's why when Laura, thinking the person's choice to poop their was fair game to insult since they probably weren't going to come forward, said "Seriously, though, who would take a shit right there? It's so dumb," I announced, "Oh, that was me." My other motivation was being able to have another shit story to my name. At first when Laura, Kristen and I began laughing, we were shushed as some of the guys were trying to watch a movie. Once more people found out and joined in, the movie was stopped and the room lit up with uproarious laughter for a full 10 min. Those are the moments I will treasure most on this trip.

The next night, the night before our final two days of the trip (and the eve of our crossing into Canada), a group watched Braveheart. Now back in Minot, I found some face painting crayons and made a point to take them. Because really, charity carnivals be damned, what better use for face paint than my own personal amusment? Amongst these colors was blue. If you've ever seen Braveheart you know that one of the most epic battle scenes is begun by Mel Gibson screaming at the top of his lungs whilst wearing blue battle paint. I was inspired by this tactic, and, along with Dan, painted my face the next morning during breakfast.

We burst in dramatic fashion into the dining room! Unfortunately, everyone being used to my antics by this point, no one batted an eyelash at my war paint and battle cries. That is why I decided to give a rabble-rousing speech. My topic of choice? Responsible Drinking. (in a poor attempt at a Scottish accent:)

"My fellow Bike and Builders! Today we make a sojourn from our fair homeland into Canada (mild cheering, primarily from me)! The culmination of the end of our trip and the fact that the Canadian drinking age is 19 has the perfect potential to turn the next couple days into a trashy shitshow. I don't want to have to go and clean up anyone's spew, so let's keep it classy, NUS '08. Please drink responsibly!" (charges through the room and around the building in a warrior yell.)

Just six miles from Lynden, we crossed the border into Canada. Perhaps not unsurprisingly, Canada allowed us all through, including Dan and I in our war paint and Christopher, who was dressed like a ninja.

The debauchery started right away. Along road 0, I turned to Jessie and commented, "This would be the perfect road for naked mile." "Oh," she replied, "I've got a better idea." There was a huge group of guys in the lead pack, about 400 m away. We booked it to catch them and just as we passed them with a polite, "On your left," we pulled our chamois down and flashed them. What ensued was a mooning war, as Christopher, Anson, and Dae dropped trow in front of us to reciprocate the love.

The rest of the ride was uneventful other than the busy city streets and abyssmal rain that dogged us.

The next day was the last of our ride. It was a total of 13 miles to the beach. 13 miles! Despite (or should I say, because of) all the bad weather we'd experienced in the Pacific Northwest, Craig predicted and even swore it would be a gorgeous day. "I've earned this. That's the way it works." I was pretty sure that reasoning was a bit flawed; that isn't the way it works. But low and behold, we woke up to some of the most beautiful weather we'd had all trip.

Christopher and I had been assigned to sweep, although it was no big deal considering we were to ride all of 12 miles before the group joined up to ride to the park (and ocean) together. I was serenaded by the entire group of guys. Christopher (the song's creator) was on vocals while the rest did back-up. The song was entitled, "Sweep with Me" and was capped off by Christopher's question on bended knee: "Kathy, will you sweep with me?" Later, Lindsey said in Vancouver something along the lines of "you two would make a great couple if Christopher were straight."

Anyways, we made it to the meeting place around 1 pm. Once everyone got back from the liquor store (we were buying champagne to open on the beach), we geared up and headed for the Pacific! Of course, we'd been heading for the Pacific since New Hampshire, but in mere minutes we would be there! We reached the beach, and in a fitting tribute, Arianna was the first to arrive and dip her wheels.

At that point, we did what Bike and Build NUS '08 does best: make a scene. It was a busy beach, so imagine every common person's reaction to seeing a bunch of cyclists running into the ocean, tossing their bikes into the ocean, screaming, spraying champagne, hugging, crying, taking photos, and eventually, having a cake fight. It was a wonderful feeling to know we'd all accomplished the feat of riding across the country, but even as I write this, it's still difficult for me to believe.

That night we ate out as a group at Boston Pizza (because of all the American cities known for their pizza, Boston is at the forefront). Craig, Christopher, Jessie and I had come up with superlatives for the group on the last couple rides, and Craig and I shared them with the group:

Most likely to ship their bike home and never open the box: Michelle.
Most likely to use biking across the country as a pick-up line: Bobby.
Most likely to lead a Bike and Build trip in the future: Isaiah.
Most likely to never remove his chamois: Reed.
Most likely to go to Alaska: Kim.
Most likely to continue to wake up at 6:15: Sharon.
Most likely to forget he ever did Bike and Build: Dae.
Most likely to get fat: Derek.
Most likely to die at age 30 from an anxiety-related illness: Kate.
Most likely to design a house with a panic room inside: Sean.
Most likely to amass his body weight's worth of scabs: Quang.
Most likely to become a skydiving instructor or a rap star with the same showbiz name as her road name: J-Nasty. (Jessie)
Most likely to go on a killing spree: Katrina.
Most likely to still not know how to change a flat by the end of the trip: Maki.
Too stupid to stop: John R., Christopher, Dan
Most likely to recieve knee surgery: Arianna.
Most likely to have a one-track mind once he steps off the plane: Ian.
Most likely to "get angry" on the way home: Joy.
Most likely to be a superhero: Zack.
Most likely to wear a purple suit for the rest of his life: Kevin.
Most likely to shop exclusively at thrift stores for the rest of his life: Pen.
Most likely to be mistaken for Bigfoot: Anson.
Most poorly-given roadname: Storm (Kristen)
Most likely to never get cosmetic surgery: Lindsey.
Most likely to ride across the country on a 4-person tandem bicycle with his family raising moeny and awareness for abused pandas with AIDS: Erik.
Most likely to keep his rider name: J-Muffin (John P.)
Most likely to put Mother Nature in her place: Thor and Vigo (Craig)
Most likely to have her own talk show, Shazaam!: Kathy
and last and least because he didn't really earn a superlative,
Most likely to drink as though he'd ridden the last 4,000 miles with us: Brendan Newman

The leaders also wrote a little something about every rider and shared with the group. Dan wrote mine:

Shazaam! Kathy...what can I say? I mean, really, what can I say because we have parents in the audience? You've 'crossed the line' so many times we've stopped counting. I think we have come to expect that you will do something or say something that must be kept secret from our hosts for all time on a daily basis.
As you know, I'd never been asked to Prom by anyone and never imagined being proposed to by a girl, publicly, on her knee. You changed my life Kathy, and I know you've touched others on this trip...okay, about to get innappropriate again.
You're a complex woman, always surprising us with something new. I know for a fact that at least a dozen of us saw a new side of you yesterday. You stated on your rider profile that you had stories that would entertain us for all 4,000 miles. Well I think you've helped give us stories that will entertain us for the next 40,000 at least.

By the end of dinner, about five riders had already left the trip for good. About 20 of the remaining riders made our way to a bar that night. Nothing earth shattering went on. Except for when I made out with Brendan. During the evening the riders did a "confessional" in which everyone told a secret from the trip. It was pretty subdued considering our group. The worst thing Craig could come up with was stowing away in the van one day to avoid setting tents up. For shame. Reed had a good one, though. Apparently he'd made it to some roadside attractions in Wisconsin during a rough day's ride. What these attractions were, I'll leave to your imagination, but the thought of Reed walking in wearing his chamois is pretty freaking hilarious. Zak, Michelle, and Kristen also confessed to drinking before town hall meetings. They deserve mad props for finding a way of making those things more bearable.

We spent the next day in the city and went to the downtown Salvation Army where we were given a tour by the facility's director. It was an amazing facility, definately the highlight of my trip to Vancouver. It was a great honor not only to be shown the facility, but also to have the respect of the director, whose work to help those in need far outstripped our own.

The next morning Joy, Sharon, Kate and I got up early to leave. Amidst much hugging and tears, we said our goodbyes to the remaining group and each other. Thus I boarded a plane and came home; Bike and Build was officially over.

(final note to this post: new photos have been posted in previous post)

Overdue Videos (see photos below)

2008-08-28T14:49:00.000-07:00

Prom commences! Long, long overdue.

Jessie Freezes

The Montana Vortex.

House of Mystery.

I forgot to turn the video function off after a video of Craig, so this is me with a one-eyed Dachshund.

Teen Choices Dilemma.

Christopher solves the dilemma.

Isaiah's Dilemma.

Christopher says goodbye to Shazaam.

Anson and I race the townie.

Overdue Photos

2008-08-28T12:52:00.000-07:00

Some photos I pilfered off facebook (in no particular order), keep checking back for more.

What a beautiful person.

On the barge in New York.

"shhh...it's nap time."

How brilliant were these prom outfits? Jessie as the Miami Mama, Zach as her army baby daddy.

I propose to Dan to come with me to Prom. In front of everyone.

Teddy.

Lindsey looks out over the Cascades.

I think this was in the Christian school. Pretty risque considering the environment in which it was found.

While I sat screaming at the wind, Arianna thinks to make us of it. With a trashbag kite.

I like how my legs look here.

I wish I could claim credit, but this is Laura.

Ahoy! This was way back in PA.

Two words: Hurricane Theodore

"We've spent the most we have ever spent on lodging, and Sean is sleeping face down next to a urinal." -unknown, the morning after Hurricane Theordore

Sneaking into Idaho.

Huckleberry magaritas.

Brilliant.

"I will go John R. on your ass."

Impromptu hoedown.

Christopher joins in.

Flower. Always whipping out the zany surprises.

Freaking out on the suspension bridge.

Flower and Storm.

Jessie finds more literature. This one speaks about saving the Chinese. Saving them from damnation, not their poverty.

Eastern Washington was a mixed bag, but the early ride from Republic was beautiful.

Kiss it, Brendan.

He made a big stink about this pass. Actually, he made a big stink about everything, including blue gatorade.

Everyone thought I wrote this; I would have been proud to claim it, but alas it was Christopher.

We discovered this random room full of balloons and no light fixture at the church in Omak. So we infiltrated and took pictures.

Mayhem!

I look like I have rabies.

Brendan Newman: "Oh my god, someone stole my bike."

We found a Bigfoot coloring book, including scientific information and field sketches. Here, Dan impersonates a sketch. (see below for close-up)

We head towards Mt. Doom. On our left, the weather gorgeous and the road is flat. Such is the nature of our rides.

Scaling Washington Pass.

Craig.

Huddled in the trailer under Kim's sleeping bag. Cold, but not miserable thanks to Indian Blanket.

Looks about right.

Crit race between Ian, Dae, Anson and J-Muff. In a circle about 100 m long.

Note the eyebrow ring.

Me and Anson's grandmother, Mary Ellen.

"The Best Place on Earth."

Canada had no qualms with the Ninja outfit. Or the blue paint that covered my face.

"Practice responsible drinking!"
Waiting to cross the border.

Ramses makes a trip to the Pacific!

We made a detour just for Brendan Newman.
"Sweep with Me."

Triumph!

Our fabulous leaders. Thank you for making this the best trip ever.

Jessie.

Spraying champagne.

Cake!
Sean is one of the first cake fight victims.

My partner in crime.

"You two would make a great couple...if Christopher weren't gay."

We biked across the country!

SPL.

Best Friends.

Looking out over the city.

Ian and Pen.

Superlatives that night at dinner. Oh, btw, that's Indian Blanket.

That evening. Jessie: L-U-S-H.

Lol.

"Would you mind shutting up?" -Shawn

Reed, you wound up being one of my favorites.

Storm.

Gramps asleep.

"I don't want a photo." -J-Muffin

Moose.

Derek managed to put up with all our revelry at 3 am.

I made out with that.

Fin.

Dear Brendan Newman:

2008-08-26T15:25:00.001-07:00

It comes as no personal surprise that you find yourself in love with me; my magnetism is pretty hard to resist.

But you seem to be under the impression that your feelings are being reciprocated. All the attention (negative though it is) I've indirectly paid you lately is I'm sure the most you've received in a long while. Even from that girlfriend of yours. If she does indeed exist.

Again, another reason I'm sure you're are confused is centered on what happened last night. Just to clarify: I made out with you for my own amusement as well as the amusement of everyone else on this trip. What better way to cap off the Brendan Debauchery Project than to toy with your emotions? (Pictures to come)

You see, Brendan, there is one major barrier that prevents our union: I have standards. There's really nothing more to say.

Is this letter a bit harsh? Mmm, I think not. Especially since you called me easy. I won't repeat the rest of what Jessie and Bobby reported to me last night on this blog. My family is reading, you sicko. (Note: And for future reference, any rude statements you make about me to other members of the trip are going to come back to me, probably within minutes. And that's probably the case for every other trip considering the fact that people tend to have greater loyalties to those they biked across the country with, not some rand-o admin who shows up on a bus.)

Furthermore, I still have beef with you over all the hardships I had to endure due to your administrative shortcomings. Lunch the first day. Insufficient tents. Van issues which could have been prevented thanks to a check-up before the trip. And let's not forget the fact that you crashed the last week of this trip for no other reason (at least that I can tell, because you never really made it known why you were here) than to relive your Bike and Build glory days. And it seems your definition of "relive" constitutes being a wet blanket, mooching off our food, and drinking.

And lastly, there's money on the table here. Dan, before your arrival: "$20 to the first person who makes Brendan cry." I'm out of cash, son. And despite all the action I gave you last night, none of my drinks wound up on your tab. You cheapskate.

Thanks for the laughs, though. Even if they were at your expense.

Forever not yours,
Kathy

My secret? Indian Blanket.

2008-08-21T22:29:00.000-07:00

It seems I’ll be the first to break this story; get hyped.

So we’re staying in Rockport, WA at a campsite just outside the North Cascades National Park. Last night we stayed in a National Forest campsite just outside the opening of the park. And it rained. All night.

So this morning I woke up to the rain, but I was in okay spirits because I worked out in my mind that today was pretty much the last day I seriously had to commit to riding. It was the mountain pass double-whammy. Two passes: Washington and Rainy, 5500 and 4700 respectively. But after the passes were done, we would make it out of the mountains. And I was emotionally over the mountains (no pun intended) five days ago.

So we had breakfast and did our thing in order to get out by 8. During this whole process, I was wearing Indian Blanket (the affectionate term for my giant sweatshirt I got off the Rez in N. Dakota). When it came time to bike, I was just too lazy to take off the Blanket. I didn’t feel like getting cold and didn’t want to climb into the trailer to load it in my bag.

Jessie however got her first flat of the trip in trying to pump her tire and still didn’t know how to change one, so I stayed behind to wait. We were pretty much the last to leave. So we started the climb up Washington. I took off Indian Blanket about 4 miles in, annoyed that I had to tote around the giant sweatshirt in my already cramped camelbak (I’m sorry for this sacrilege, O Honored One). So I’m jonesin’ up this pass and make it to the top, where I decide to take out IB and put it on underneath my windbreaker. So I went down and up this little camel hump to the next pass, 5 miles down the road.

So I’m cold, but I wasn’t as cold as I was on Logan. My extremities felt the same (i.e. no feeling whatsoever), but the difference was my core; my core temperature was not in trouble. So I make it to Rainy Pass where I find 5 bikes on the side of the road and a giant trailer next to it. This woman comes out and says, “Your friends are in here.”

Upon entering the RV, I see Ian, Shawn, Anson, Isaiah, and Bobby huddled and shivering. None of them are wearing more than Under Armour and a rain slicker. Isaiah literally looked like death warmed over, and it’s no wonder: all he was wearing over his jersey was his paper-thin Darthmouth rain slicker. And we joke about Isaiah being a fatty, but he probably has the least amount of insulation on him.

So I stopped for about three minutes and began to continue down the pass to lunch. At this point, I was pretty much in the lead. I had passed most on the climb and others who had stopped due to the cold.

When I reached lunch about 9 miles down Rainy pass, I was met by people I had seen on the top. Apparently some people got rides down to the van so they could warm up before re-ascending the pass to come down. Dan was just about to pull the van out to go back up the pass; I decided to stay with the trailer. So there I stayed with Sharon and Shawn. We climbed in the back of the trailer (on top of everyone’s bags), brought some PB&J, and hunkered down by pulling people’s sleeping bags out. It was raining (it was pretty much a constant drizzle all morning. Shawn seemed fine, Sharon was not in good shape though. I stayed for about 20 min. when Erik pulled up after riding down the pass. The rain had mostly cleared and I had all I needed to keep warm: Indian Blanket.

So down the pass I continued. Everything warmed and the sun even made an appearance. I took my time, hoping people would catch up. The park was beautiful and I took some gorgeous photos of the clouds through the mountains and the famous Diabolo Lake, which is bright aquamarine.

When I got to mile 74 (of an 84-mile day), I stopped for a meal at a diner. No one cam by. Then I stopped for cappucino several miles later. Nadda.

You see, part of my hesitance to go to the campsite was because one person was unaccounted for during my ride: Brendan Newman. I was not about to show up to the campsite with no van or fellow company to share the Brendan Burden.

But, knowing that Anson’s family would be waiting, I decided to buck down and make it in. I also wanted the satisfaction of being one of the first ones there.

Show up I did and what a RECEPTION! Anson’s grandmother Mary Ellen, uncle Billy, cousin Billy and family friend Susan were all there waiting with a fire and snacks. And Brendan was nowhere to be found. Shazaam.

So along with Dae and Reed (who had arrived before me), we chatted and related what had gone on during the day. It wasn’t until about an hour later that the next people began to arrive. Not everyone was in until 8 this evening.

What happened? Well, in between the two passes was a bathroom, where many people fled to get warm. Dan eventually came with the van in which people piled and warmed up before continuing down the pass. This took about 1.5 hours. Then there was a fiasco with the sweeps, Kristen and Maki, who couldn’t be found (they had hitched a ride to the bottom of the pass).

Meanwhile, Sharon went into mild shock from the cold at lunch as soon as she came out of the trailer to pee. Thankfully, we had the people and resources to help her out and she’s fine now. Everyone wound up riding their bikes through the majority of the day (few hitched rides down the pass, absolutely the right thing to do).

Quite an adventure-filled day. But fortunately we were greeted with open arms and much good food from Anson’s family. Big shout-out to Mary Ellen, Anson’s grandmother. I’m so glad you enjoy the blog; it was so nice meeting you and getting to talk to you. (Sidenote: She knew me even before I introduced myself and knew in intimate detail the content from my posts)
And for another chapter in the Brendan debauchery scheme: I taken a carton of Newman’s Own lemonade and scratched out the “Own” and written “AN ASS” and “LAME.” Now it reads: “Newman’s an ass.” And “Newman’s Lame.” Then I did some detail work on Paul Newman’s face (which bears a striking resemblance to Brendan) by adding an eyebrow ring. Who knows if he’ll see it, but I’ll be sure to offer him some lemonade at breakfast tomorrow.

Yay for the last night of camping!

Sleeping with the Enemy

2008-08-20T14:06:00.001-07:00

So take one guess as to who's been around me all day. (laughs:) Brendan Newman. Isn't karma something?

I didn't have to look at his face all morning and then I show up to lunch to have to listen to him disagree with everything everyone else was saying. Guess what, Brendan? I do not care what you have to say. Maybe if we had biked 3700 miles together I would be polite and listen, but since you rode in on a bus just yesterday, it's really difficult to for me not to start screaming manically "You aren't entitled an opinion!"

I left lunch with Christopher, Jess, and Dan and went on a crazy tirade, finishing just in time to have him pull up behind us. The group started to paceline, but I started to yo-yo and told Dan to go ahead while I dropped off. Did Brendan continue this trend? No. He stayed back to talk to me.

Alright, I'll break down here for a split second and admit that he's OK. But that's only because he complimented my orange visor.

From there we rolled into Winthrop, WA (the campsite is 15 mi. away) and he's been hanging with the group ever since. I've made my escape to the library, but who knows what's in store for this afternoon.

I'll be out for probably the next 2 days since we're camping; I'll keep everyone posted if possible.

Aww...freak out!

2008-08-19T18:49:00.000-07:00

It turned out to be a rather stressful day. And I say that not in reference to the 4300-ft climb we scaled or the 20 miles we rode through a straight tunnel of abominal headwind or even the arrival of Brandan Newman, the most stressful part was the first 20 seconds of a phone message from my father:

(In a tone that implies I am in serious shit) Um, Kathy? (He never calls me Kathy) We need to talk (dramatic pause). Your blog has been taken off the Bike and Build site; you need to call me and let me know what has happened.

To reiterate, I am not in any trouble; I am the one who removed the link from the B&B site.

I am most reminded in this situation of a short piece from David Sedaris. In his story, he recounts how his sister starts telling him an embarrassing event. Sedaris, always seeking material to write about, whips out his notebook. "You're not going to put this in your BOOK, are you?" she asks critically.

This short exchange illustrates the key moral quandary of all nonfiction writers: at what point does your quest for things to write about ruin your integrity? How can you ally yourself both with your audience and your subjects?

Well, if you write about the stuff I do, you can't. And since my loyalties lie with those who fawn their love and adoration on me (my readership), my solution is simple: don't let your subjects know you write about them. Hence my 'disassociation' from the site.

Alright, that's enough deep thinking for now. Moving on.

Last night made me think of a situation way back in Niagra that I have yet to discuss. It involves a young man named Ryan.

The morning we woke up to leave Niagra Falls, we found a note on the van. We had had little to no interaction with the folks living on the street, but apparently one young man took interest. The note read:

Dearest Bikefolk,

What's up? NM (not much) here. Just writin. How's the biking? Got affordable housing yet? If not, try sleeping in that massive van of yours. or my house, LADIES! Am I right?

But seriously, you are the mangs man (man's man) among meng (men), ever. My talent is (word edited) drawing. Take this offering and hold it dear to your hearts.

Love, Ryan (cell phone #) Text me!

(rude drawing here) Don't be offended.

We never met a kid named Ryan in Niagra, but man am I glad he wrote us that note. I was reminded of him last night at the drag race; he would have eaten it up.

No other big news except prankster plans for Brendan. The madness has already begun: when his bike case showed up at the church (this was before he had arrived), we took out his nice Trek bike, hid it, and then replaced it with a rusty Huffy we found in the church basement. Shazaam!

Updates on our continued debauchery to come.

Thanks to everyone who's expressed concern about the blog. This morning, Shawn's dad left a message, the entirety of which was to let Shawn know my blog had been removed. Let your people know, I'm still here! And this time, I'm blogging without reservations (although, let's be real, that's not really changing much).

Love and peace,
Kathy

Drag Race

2008-08-18T20:49:00.000-07:00

Quick update: So I'm on a bit of an adrenaline high right now after an epic drag race with a townie. And by drag race, I mean bikes because this kid wasn't old enough to drive. Not even a tractor.

We're staying in Republic right now (I posted from the library earlier this afternoon; there's wireless in our overnight stay) in the local youth development center, affectionately known by the local fare as the "YD." So we're having a great stay and all that in this town. Dinner's over, I've just eaten an entire pint of ice cream (a reward for climbing 23 miles today, no joke), and am patching a flat when Laura comes in. "Where is Kathy? She needs to come out here, stat."

So I emerge onto the deck of the YD where I am met with a glorious scene: 7 punk townies surround us. To be more specific, they were surrounding Anson, who was working on Pen's bike while the rest of the group looked on in horror and bewilderment as these turds with 'tudes made wisecracks. I was captivated.

At one point Christopher emerged and with true dramatic fashion, glued on a demeanor surpassing Mr. Rogers: "Well, hello, local youth!" "Don't be a fool, stay in school." "Be smart, don't do drugs." Hilarious, but the townies weren't fazed; condescension didn't enter into their insult vocabulary.

After numerous rude comments to Anson ("Dude, you fixin' your bike or somethin'?" "I'll give you $15 for your bike." "I got a key to this place, be sure to hide your bikes away inside."), who's demeanor was curt and underlined with the tone "F-off," I decided to show these punks a lesson. I went up to Anson and said, "You wanna race 'em?" "Of course," he replied.

So I walked up to the riff-raff and asked them if they wanted to race. They replied yes, but when I asked them to go get their bikes, a tumult of lame excuses emerged, the best of them being, "I don't really feel like walking the 2 blocks to my house to get it." The ringleader however was fortunately riding a bike and, despite it being a fixy DMX bike about a foot too short for him, was too proud to refuse the challenge.

We rode to the start line, about 400 meters up the main drag and chose the finish to end at the YD. All of Bike and Build was called out to the street and the locals poked their heads out of the bars to come see what the commotion was about. It was like that epic scene in Grease.

With that, the race began. It was a poor showing at first because Anson and I were in such high gears. The townie also had the only advantage he would get in the race: the downhill. He had no shifting capabilities and was riding in such a low gear, that he basically got the full advantage of the momentum gotten off the downhill. I was thinking while he was ahead, "Oh, this is going to be embarassing." But then Anson and I hit our stride, townie lost the downhill, and we came sailing in, Anson riding without his hands on his handlebars. It was a most triumphant moment, despite the fact that we all knew the townie was poorly under-equipped.

As the group walked away in shame immediately following the race, I yelled, "Hey, you guys wanna join us for our ride tomorrow? We're going 65 miles." Yes, I rubbed the loss into the faces of underprivileged 15-year-olds. But they had it coming with their loud mouths and punk attitudes. And I consider it a favor to all the people they probably pick on in this town. I had a younger local girl come up to me after the race, wonder and awe were expressed in her eyes, "Great race." I'll put money on the fact that she gets terrorized by those buttheads; I won that drag race for her.

In other news, we have an addition to the NUS crew tomorrow: Brendan Newman. Brendan is not a rider, he's an administrator. Typically, the trip admins show up the last two days to drive the van and tie up all the lose ends at the completion of the trip. Since Brendan had some extra time however, he decided to show up a week early. Never mind that he hasn't been here the past 9 weeks or that he's partially responsible for our van issues and inadequate supplies (i.e. tents), I'm sure he'll fit in just fine. He's also the reason why we missed out on lunch the first day. Personally, I look forward to his superior insight and administrative wet blanketed-ness. Oh, and his eyebrow ring is way hot.

That's all I'll put in for now. Another thing: if any readers of the blog are interested in joining a Bike and Build trip (Ally?), don't hesitate to contact me or any of the other riders; we love talking about the trip. You can reach any of us on facebook and my email is kehill@email.unc.edu. Thanks all.

AWOL

2008-08-18T14:00:00.000-07:00

Alright, kids. I gotta fly low for the rest of the trip.

More specifically, I'm personally removing my link on the B&B site to the blog; you'll have to get to it independently or through Craig. The reason is we were all asked to keep our comments about host locations and towns positive at town meeting last night. But that's where the best stories come from, so I'm keeping the blog up, just not making it easy for 'outsiders' to get to.

Next order of business, I have like no more time on this public computer. Rodeo was moved back, but there's one in Lyden; we're getting a big group to go. Also, stories about Gordy Pie (and old man at the last church who was making overt passes at Jessie and Maki) and Well Water. Updates to come.

Thanks again for all the feedback. Props to my Nana who went and worked on a build the other day! Shazaam!

Jess

2008-08-16T17:22:00.000-07:00

Quick note: I'm still trying to upload Jessie's video but have been encountering some issues. I also mentioned in the previous post that Jessie is the queen of crazy Christian dogma; what I meant to say was that Jessie is the queen of UNEARTHING crazy Christian dogma. Props, Jess.

The Bitch is Back

2008-08-16T12:56:00.000-07:00

Ugh, I tried typing the post while simultaneously uploading photos (which are all out of order), and nothing wants to move around on this computer, so scroll to the middle to read the post...

All of us on the rancid carseat.

I pilfered these Glacier photos from Kate, who had time to stop since they went through in the afternoon.

Coolest thing I have ever done.

Gorgeous morning sunrise in Glacier. Note Jessie in the foreground.

Ingenious tent burrito.

J-Muffin!

At second lunch the day into St. Mary's we found this dirty old carseat on the side of the road. Bobby sat down and proclaimed, "All I need now is the Olympics." I was content to watch the mountains.

Double outhouse

"You've got to face your fears, Ricky Bobby."

freaking

funny

Back in Idaho, that is!

Yesterday we crossed the border into my adoptive homeland...Idaho. For those of you who are unfamiliar with my tie to this great state, I worked in Idaho last summer as a forest ranger. I can't go into specifics, but the experience was somewhat of a bust. Fortunately however, I came out of the experience with some awesome stories. I shared the grand daddy with the riders yesterday; Isaiah and J-Muf were especially impressed.

Things have been pretty routine other than that. Jessie, the queen of crazy christian dogma, discovered the most awesome textbook in the Christian school the other day.

Title: Exploring Creation with Physical Sciences

This science textbook included scripture excerpts and first person narrative. Among the scientific concepts refuted: carbon dating, evolution.

Quotes:

"You see, the Bible is the single most accurate historic document of its time."

(in reference to modern scientists):"They believe in the discredited theory of evolution."

"A creationist framework is much more in agreement with the data;...that's why the theory of evolution should be thrown out."

And a nice quote from a dating manual (which included advice that dating in a group was paramount and that physical interaction should be limited to hand-holding): "Consider taking a year off from dating and date Jesus for a while."

And in other news, I chopped my hair off. When wet, it appears as though it was cut with a blowtorch (a favorite saying of my father's). However, it curls nicely into a shortened pixie cut. Oh! And guess what tonight is: the rodeo. Hog-tying, here we come!

Pictures, shazaam!

Glasgow, MT. Apparently Montana has huge problems with meth use. They counter this by making fun billboards.

We went through the dinosaur valley and they had these massive roadside statues. Here, I'm being run down by a T-Rex.

Jessie falls asleep on the road while Craig changes his tire. She was worn out from the morning's events, which included a bout with hypothermia.

Portal to the Montana Vortex!

We don't know if this was supposed to be the Vortex, but it was basically just a house leaned on it's side, a lame tourist trap. We ate it up, of course.

Mutiny on the Bikeride

2008-08-14T15:10:00.000-07:00

So several days ago we rode through Glacier National Park. It was perhaps my favorite riding day yet.

We spent the night in St. Mary's, a small tourist village on the southeastern side of the park. We stayed at the KOA campsite, which could be described as luxurious given the amount of amenities to be found there. Upon arrival, we hung out in the beautiful visitor's center. Sharon and I then went out to the hot tub and enjoyed the impressive views of the Rockies while the tub jets massaged our sore muscles. When we finally made it to the campsite, imagine our surprise when we discovered the whole place was covered with wireless. That right there was an amenity we'd been deprived of throughout the majority of Montana's churches.

Anywho, we set up our tents. We were pretty well assured that there would be no storms (and thankfully, Murphey's Law cut us a break; we remained dry throughout the night). However the winds which had dogged us on the bikes all day (terrible headwinds) never died down. Jessie and I opted to stand by the tent we had set up and sleep in it. Now this tent was massive. So tall and wide was it, I would not be surprised to learn it's designer had done ship sails before going into camping equipment. All night the tent was rocked and buffetted by the wind, leaving Jessie and I (the only ones in this six-sleeper) waking up to find the tent's sides on top of us.

J-Muf had the right idea all along. Muffin literally took one of our tarps, folded it in half, weighed it down with rocks, propped up the insides, and slept in the crevice. It sounds complicated, but it was really just a glorified tarp burrito. A burrito made of J-Muffin filling.

So the major issue with Glacier was the times in which we were able to ride through the park. On a certain, unknown stretch of road, bikes were not allowed to ride from the hours of 11-4. Long story short, we had it in our minds that one either had to bike 50 miles before 11 or 66 miles after 4 (this didn't end up being the case, but it's the Park Service, of course things would way more complicated than they needed to be). So 9 of us decide to wake up at the buttcrack of dawn to get the 50 done before 11 a.m. Normally this wouldn't be an issue for anyone in the group, but we still faced killer winds and had to climb Logan's Pass through the park, a 6600-ft. climb.

Waking up early that morning was the best decision I've made all trip. We were face-to-face with the breathtaking Rockies as the sun rose behind us. In the begining, the mountains were bathed with red light and the water (we passed two major lakes going up the pass) reflected the early morning sun. Jessie and I got some spectacular photos. The other benefit to riding through the gates at 6:15 was the fact that the park service wasn't up yet: no $12 entrance fee. Take that, NPS.

It was about 20 miles to the top of the pass. The first 14 miles wasn't bad, we were climbing slightly, but as we followed the two lakes inward, the rise wasn't great. The last 6 miles were legit. It was a steady climb, but I was so pumped, it didn't feel like much. I think the coolest part was seeing the mountains around me and looking below, knowing I had climbed all that way...on my bike. Shazaam!

When Jessie and I reached the top, we went to the 'lodge.' NPS, once again confirming their status as tools, didn't open the lodge until 9. Then they tried to tell us the bathroom wasn't a 'visitor's area.' Okay, lady, I just climbed up your mountain on a bike and am freezing my butt off. Your 'center' isn't open, so if me and my friends want to hundle in the bathroom, you better damn well let us. Fortunately, I had Christopher there so I didn't have to say this to her: he did that himself.

From there, for fear of getting us kicked out of the park as well as to avoid hypothermia, Jessie and I got our pictures and started heading down the pass. I was a little shocked to hear Jessie freaking out about the cold. Fortunately, our relationship is such that we can comfortably call each other out on stuff (Mom: we're both 8s). So I told her to suck it up and go; we were going to be fine once we got a couple thousand feet lower. Unfortunately, the other side of Logan's Pass was quite a bit longer. It was 12 miles of 6% grade. Normally, I would be ecstatic at this opportunity...but I was freezing. Coming up the pass, we had gotten all sweaty under our long-sleeves. Then we went over the top, stopped pedaling, and had intense winds for 12 miles down.

Now realistically, I knew I was fine. When skiing, I often start freezing once I'm on the lift. On the bike it was really no different. I considered the possibility that my hands were getting frostbite, but I figured my exposure wasn't prolonged enough to land me with any serious problems, such as lost extremities.

Jessie however is from Miami. Never having skied or done anything of a similar vein, she really was freaking out. She told me later she was thankful Anson (from Alaska) would be at the bottom to help her with any mild hypthermia she might develop. I know Mr. and Mrs. Pouchet are awaiting the priceless video I have of Jessie stopped halfway down at Christopher's flat tire. Don't worry; I should have the video up later tonight.

Later we made it out of Glacier by the appointed time and stopped by the town of West Glacier for lunch. As fate would have it, we wound up sitting next to the H4H Director in Whitefish (where we were to spend the night). He had never heard of us, but when he found out who we were and the fact that we had a day off the next day in Whitefish, he solicited us to come help on his build.

We spoke vaguely of our interest, but I think the importance of our day off was perhaps not emphasized enough...? Then he bought our lunches; we were between a rock and a hard place.

Hours later, after dinner in Whitefish and the return of the rest of the riders (and this is around 9 pm after a long day for the other 21 riders), Christopher decides we are all going to the build the next day. This idea was met with some major resistance, to say the least. Many were perhaps willing to go to the build, but the notion that we were suddenly forced to forgo one of our precious days off for something completely unplanned was out of the question.

Things worked themselves out however after a slight mutiny. The build became optional and Christopher, utilizing his guilt trip skills likely learned in Catholic school (they start us young, you know), managed to rassle up about 13 people to go and put in a half day. I went, which I wound up being glad for as I was able to experience the wonder that was Dottie, a retiree builder. Dottie wasn't the site manager, but she may as well have been given her ability to put people to work. Oh, and let's not forget her precision. Dottie was big on making the caulking underneath the eaves (because people will notice that, for sure) blend into the wood grain 'like a bird feather.' Isaiah, who was not doing his correctly, got chewed out, majorly. "Have you ever looked at a bird's feather?!" Dottie exclaimed. "That looks like a rat's tail!" After some profuse apologizing, Isaiah was asked to find something else to do. Shazaam!

The rest of my day in Whitefish was a bust though. I fell asleep at the gym watching the Olympics then went to the library where every skater in town had decended upon the computers, rendering me unable to update the blog :-(

We did go out to watch the Olympics after dinner however, where Jessie graciously explained all the inner workings of the gymnastics world. We didn't even need the commentary (the volume was muted, no closed captioning either), we had Jessie there.

Which, btw, reminds me: we have two riders on the trip who have done some pretty high-profile sporting events. Jessie has attended international competitions representing Trinadad in gymnastics; Kate is a world-champion rower. I didn't even find this out until the Olympics came on; you two rock.

Yesterday we had a fabulous ride into Eureka. Revved off a fabulous salad and cappucino (also having bummed onion rings and milk shakes off fellow diners), I hit up the local thrift stores and wound up with western gold: a cowgirl outfit. An impromptu hoe down followed that evening's dinner. Pictures to come.

Today was the ride into Libby and we are currently staying in the local Christian school strewn with scary extremist posters. I'll write some down to share.

Once again, thanks to everyone who sent mail. Ellen, I'm getting your letter out soon; my life hasn't been my own much recently. Pictures and videos hopefully later tonight; get hyped for some footage from the "Montana Vortex" and other roadside attractions.

Sorry, one last video!

2008-08-08T17:02:00.000-07:00

And my favorite video of them all:

And the top assassin is....

2008-08-08T15:53:00.000-07:00

Anson. So here's what went down from the previous post to now. As I was typing up my blog, Bobby comes by with Jessie in tow. Jessie runs into the library, I freak out and run to the back where I am killed. Jessie and I go to the front to plan her new strategy when Anson comes from the back door of the library and kills Jessie on the spot. Now it's just Anson and Bobby. We all return to the church, Bobby is no where to be found. Anson goes out again through the left. Jessie goes to the right into order to help Bobby. Bobby, just down the lane, sees Jessie who he does not know is dead, runs to the left (where Anson is) and Anson ambushes him. Great game, everyone. Except Derek. Stop preventing me from leaving the library when you died two days ago. Once your dead, pick up your corpse and get out of my damn way.

Not much to report over the past few days. We have had some amazing fodder to laugh over at the past couple churches. First was the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Glasgow. A typical barn church, ELCG had an amazing library. Amongst the items: Witchcraft Repacked (a fervent lambaste against the Harry Potter series); Russia, WWIII, and Armageddon; and What Every Woman Wishes Her Husband Knew. The Harry Potter video was the best though as one of the arguments against the book was the use of phallic symbols, such as a broomstick. Flash to a scene from the Harry Potter movie in which everyone in the scene yells, "Up!" and the broomsticks levitate off the ground. Then flash to some home video from actual witch ceremonies in which women are dancing around the room with broomsticks between their legs. Priceless.

Then at the Catholic Center in Malta was the video "Survival Guide: Teen Crisis." It was actually a whole series, but we put in the one about relationships with the opposite sex. A terribly awkward video. Also in the Catholic center were miles worth of sappy quotes. The best of them were the painted notes on all mirrors, bathroom stalls, and clocks. On the clocks were written, "Time for God." On the girls' room mirror was written, "You are beautiful no matter what you look like." And the note in the boys' bathroom: "God wants you to flush."

Then last night we found another game at the Methodist Church in Chinook: Teen Choices. The game was a variety of cards, each with a dilemma. You were supposed to choose from another card an approach with how to deal with the problem. I won't go into any more, just look below at videos.

Shout-outs: Thanks Mrs. Roi and Mr. Lee, I enjoy the comments. Thanks also to Mrs. Pinero, we had a lot of fun with the Pirates of the Caribbean tattoos (I stuck Orlando Bloom on the side of my mouth so I could lick him whenever I want). And last, but certainly not least, Ellen Mail!!! The group loved the song, we're going to do a rendition on the camera soon and post it on the site.

Photos and vids, shazaam!

A Trojan horse? No! A Norwegian Horse!

At the Scandinavian Heritage Museum. A massive troll is trying to graze my boob.

A Dead End for Bingo.

Craig is getting really close...

Not winning.

Licking Orlando.

The Game of Teen Choices

The Wilds of Montana

Teen Choices!

Wild, Wild West

2008-08-08T15:08:00.000-07:00

The game of assassins continues...but not for long.

Currently I am in the library in Chester, MT waiting for the showdown to occur. Currently, Anson, Jessie, Bobby and I are still left in the game. The stakes are high, all of us being very competitive. The other night I went through with my plan to throw Bobby's sleeping bag into the front yard. However, as I ran around like a banshee gloating, Bobby made his way around the back and amry crawled out to his stuff under the cover of darkness. The next time I looked out the window, his stuff was gone. Mission failed. As yesterday passed however, more casualties amassed, bringing the death count to 26. The four of us who did remain today then made the brilliant decision to ride together. While we could stop, we were forced to straddle our bikes. This meant that when Jessie (who has me as a mark) got off her bike to pee (Anson, who has Jessie, was not there at this point, so she was not in danger of being killed), I just decided to drop trow (still straddling my bike) and pee along the side of the highway. Jessie then turned around and took photos.

Right now, we're in town and determined to have this cat-and-mouse game out before dinner. Which is perfect because Chester is basically an old railroad town in the midst of the plains. A more perfect location for a showdown cannot exist. I'll probably go down, but so help me, I am taking Bobby with me.

Okay, gtg.

Don't get off the bike!

2008-08-06T14:29:00.000-07:00

First of all, I would like to direct all my readers to Craig's blog, craigacrossamerica.blogspot.com. Therein is contained an apostrophe to the Wind. It is brilliant, but what's more, it has thus far been effective. Since its writing two days ago, there have been no and/or tail winds.

Now a more pressing matter: everyone's unwillingness to dismount from their bikes. Several reasons exist as to why all Bike and Build members are inclined to stay firmly planted on or over their bikes:

1. Assassins. A game played where each person is given a 'mark.' The point is to kill before killed until you are the last person left standing. Once you 'kill' your mark, they give you the name of the person they have to kill, who then becomes your next mark. In our version, 'killing' consists of hitting the mark with a clean sock while not on the bike or in the church. This has caused massive paranoia. Today people literally packed a lunch and ate it on the bike so as to not have to stop at lunch. I'm at the library right now, constantly checking to see who comes in so as to make an escape if needed. My mark was bragging last night that he/she would do whatever it took to be the last one standing. But I have a brilliant plan: throw his/her sleeping bag outside tonight to see if he/she will run out to get it. If he/she does, he/she is dead. If not, he/she is without their sleeping bag. I'll laugh uproariously either way. Shazaam.

2. Mosquitoes. I swept today, which sometimes calls for slow going. But since there was a tailwind, the slowest I went was like, 11 mph. You would think this would be enough to outfly mosquitoes. Nope. Not a chance. I was literally getting bit on my bike riding 14 mph. Don't ask me to describe the madness that occurred once I stopped to help Michelle with her flat tire. (*note: a small ways outside Malta, our current town, was recorded as the highest density mosquito population in the world).

Ahh, Pen and Ian walked in! Paranoia requires me to flee!

Hurricane Theodore

2008-08-04T13:33:00.000-07:00

So we were staying in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. Mind you, this is the Park Service, so everything is ridiculously overpriced, as per the $150 fee we had to pay to enter the park and spend the night. Oh, and let's not forget that despite the massive fee, the Park Service was not about to do us any favors. Case in point: they warn us about the bison since bison are pretty freaked out when it comes to runners and cyclists. But when we proceed to ride down the road to the campsite, we come across a masive heard with calves. We call the Park Service to come and help us out a little (I'm paying $150 to stay here, you asses) by driving through, thus clearing the road. Does this happen? Of course not. We're told to wait.

Okay, so that night I'm sleeping in my gerry-rigged tent because the administration can't stand to spend money even on the stuff we need. We don't even have tent stakes; we had to use our utensils to secure the tents down. WE HAD TO TAKE THE THINGS WE USE TO EAT AND PUT THEM IN THE GROUND FOR THESE TENTS. Then there are missing tent poles and rain flies, but whetever, we went with it.

So that night I go to bed with J-Muf and Pen. We didn't ut our rainfly on because it was going to be hot and we pretty much knew that if it rained, we were pretty much screwed, rain fly or no. Next thing I know, it's 3 a.m. and I wake up to hear the sounds of Anson and J-Muf attempting to put the rain fly on. It's windy and I can see the lightning flashes through the tent. Then comes the patter of rain. Then I look out the window of the tent. I was met with the funniest sight I may have seen yet on this trip. Every tent within sight is literally being flattened by the wind. When the lightning flashes (every other second), you can just see the rain coming down. It was something out of a movie. And just the futility of that moment made me laugh, so hard.

Later, I heard an account from Maki, who had slept in the van. Around 3:15 she woke up with the other people inside and decided to go out to see if the tent campers were ok. All they could hear above the wind was the sound of my hysterical laughter.

J-muf re-enters the tent and meanwhile Pen starts holding town the stakes because the tent is in fear of collapsing at this point. Pen starts screaming wildly, "We've got to stay! We're not going to the bathroom (several hundred feet away, where I'm sure about half the group was sheltered at this point)." Then I looked out the window again to see tree branches start falling. That was when I heard Jessie, several tents away yell, "Tornado!" I thought, "We are going to die if we stay in this tent." Then I started laughing some more.

Finally, I hear over wind Joy's voice yelling, "Everyone to the bathroom!" So the guys in the tent and I gathered up everything we could carry and made a mad dash toward the restroom. We made it inside to find about 20 others. In a flurry of excitment, we began recounting all that had gone on in our perspective tents and also wondering about the other 10. Reed however had other things on his mind. Silent the entire time, Reed said during a conversation lull, "I wonder what the buffalo do." Are you kidding me? There are soaking people crammed in a bathroom at 3:30 in the morning, and you have THAT on your mind? Who cares what the buffalo are doing, they deal with this all the time; they have shelter by the rocks for goodness sake.

So eventually the group split up and some, including myself, went around the building to the men's restroom. There, we spread out a tent and some thermarests on the floor and got some sleep. Surprisingly, depite the fact that my head was on the bare, dirty floor and that I was about 6 inches away from Craig's butt, I got really good sleep.

At 6:30 we were awoken and began to survey the damage. Only one tent still stood. They looked like fallen, bloody soldiers as they lay on the plain in small lakes of water. Branches were everywhere. Most stuff fortunately had been put in the trailer the night before and Anson and friends had made a point to put the bikes under the awning of the restroom before the storm set in.

My favorite part was when the Park Ranger came out. He literally got out of his car, proceeded to check on the RV (because yeah, I'm sure THEY had a trying night in their portable house), say to us, "Rough night, huh?", and get back in his car to drive off. I will abstain from making any further comments about the Park Service; the use of expletives would not be appropriate.

But everyone was in a great mood and a lot of laughs were shared over our feeble breakfast of cold cereal.

Favorite quotes:

"We just spent the most money we've ever spent on accomodations this trip and Shawn slept face down next to a urinal." -unknown

"Tornado!" -Jessie

"Well that certainly wasn't the first time I've woken up half-naked next to a toilet." -Christopher

"I opened the door and literally the only thing I could hear over the wind was your laughter." -Maki

BINGO!

2008-08-01T15:08:00.000-07:00

Coming into the city of Minot, Christopher and I witnessed a beacon: Bingorama. Actually, it was just a billboard for Bingorama, but nonetheless a beacon.

Then, as we rolled into the city proper, we saw a giant beaver. Apparently the college, Minot State University, thought it would be a smart plan to hold an admissions recruitment event in a parking lot. In the city where the university was located. And not advertise it. So we just popped on by and they literally threw us a crapload of food. Then the admissions advisor tells us of more bingo on the other side of town. BINGO! Shazaam.

So the next day we had off, the majority of which I spent writing that tome which was my previous post. That evening, Christopher, Kristen, Craig, Kate, Shawn, Jessie and I stormed Bingorama. I knew it was going to be priceless once I saw the building: a massive warehouse with a parking lot full of Buicks outside.

We walk in to find the most drab scene ever: about 150 bingo zombies mindlessly blotting bingo cards as an announcer monotonously rattled off numbers in the background. We were going to have a great time.

Basically, we were the boisterous upstarts that were actually excited about the bingo prospects. In the first round, Craig’s card was doing smashingly (and a prize of $5700 was up for grabs) and all our hearts were racing wildly. It was a lot more exciting than one might expect: probably the biggest adrenalin rush you can get without ever leaving your seat. Maybe that explains the demographic.

In the midst of all this, Christopher and Jess were getting rather competitive. Why, I have no clue considering the game of Bingo requires no skill whatsoever. That is of course if you don’t count staying awake, something I fear some people in the bingo hall were unable to do. We couldn’t really understand it, no one yelled, “BINGO!” Even at the end, when a woman won $1700, it was this half-hearted mumble. If one of our group had won that, we would have screamed, torn off our shirts, and run around the room. The same applies to winnings of $50.

In bigger news however, we are facing a real-life costume contest. Our van broke today, leaving us to forage out on the road for lunch and without any of our stuff upon arrival at the church. I ate it up, frequenting the local rummage sale for clothing to change into once showers were done. Right now I am sporting a massive Indian horse sweatshirt and a pair of baggy grey shorts. What’s best about the sweatshirt is that it doubles as a towel And a sleeping bag. I am set for the night because about ten minutes ago, the news got worse: the transmission on the van is broken. At least 3 days for the fix-up. SHAZAAM! The leaders will figure out something of course, but right now I’m loving the limbo we all now face.

Well, I have to sign off since I am starving and need to try some frybread. Apparently we’re on a Sioux Indian Reservation, so I need to see the sights.

(Pictures below)

2008-07-31T14:48:00.000-07:00

Oh, I was once again in charge of the journal:

July 29th, 2008

Two weeks ago, in a humble little kitchen in LaCrosse WI, an earth-shattering idea was born. If you’ve been keeping tabs on the group, you know that we’ve planned some activities to break up the monotony of the rides. Up to this point, we had put on a costume contest and had a scavenger hunt in the works. That night in the kitchen, after most everyone had gone to bed Christopher, Jessie and I stayed up to conjure up more trip activities. That was when Christopher threw out the word “Prom.”

Now allow me to take a moment and express my unbound fervor for the institution known as prom. Prom is, in a word, ridiculous. Everyone gets dates, dresses up, rents a limo, buys expensive dinners, takes a massive load of photos…and for what? Two hours of awkward dancing. And this is an all-American tradition stretching back nearly a century. And it’s stressful: a literal vortex of high school drama. I consider it fabulous as I stand back and watch the drama unfold from the wings. I disagree with all the pomp and circumstance, but instead of boycotting prom, I choose to infiltrate. My modus operandi? Irreverence. I’m the one who dines in, takes a friend as a date, and wears the gaudiest dress imaginable. I see it as having the time of my life while at the same time taking a stand against the institution of it all. Well, it’s mostly about having the time of my life.

So when that small, yet explosively evocative word hit the air, I was set. Prom would be our next major endeavor for NUS Bike and Build 2008.

My vision included outrageous dresses, dinner, decorations, dates, and dancing. But it would all be very tongue-and-cheek. Foir instance, prom outfits would derive from thrift stores as opposed to Macy’s. Couples go from within the group, but brownie points to the person who showed up with a townie (and six of the guys were going to have to get creative as there were not enough females to go around). We would also have photos with gaudy backgrounds and awkward couple poses.

So in Pepin, WI the plans were announced. Invitations were sent out a week later. The theme we (Christopher and I) decided upon would be HARVEST MOON. It was appropriate given the current scenery of the country (this would make decorations easy, just pilfer some corn stalks from a nearby field). Harvest Moon was also the theme which was proposed by Christopher when he was prom panning committee (is anyone surprised by this fact?) but was rejected; this was going to be his redemption. The prom was scheduled for June 29th in Rugby, ND. Attire: formal. Dates: required.

At first, Bike and Build Prom 2008 was met with lackluster reception. I think a lot of people were intimidated by the idea of required dates, which is understandable. All of us are good friends, so the notion that we were “pairing up” had the potential to make things awkward that evening. Very awkward.

I also believe some resistance came from some negative associations with the word “prom.” Once again, this is understandable. If we had termed this event “Glorified Dance Party 2008,” I don’t think people would have experienced the emotions they did. This is a group with great heads on their shoulders, I can’t imagine anyone got caught up in or enjoyed the trivial drama of their high school prom. I’m sure no one wanted to relive that.

To diffuse this mounting tension, I did two things. The first was to invite Dan to prom. It was assumed by everyone that Dan and Kim would be each other’s dates. To stir the pot a bit, I announced one morning I was about to ask someone to prom. So in front of all 30 riders, (and in my chamois no less), I went on bended knee to Dan and asked him to escort me to prom. Surprisingly, he accepted! While I simply did it for kicks, it wound up being such a blessing. The absurdity of the situation set the tone for the rest of the proceedings: this prom is going to be ridiculous. Dan and I demonstrated too that the dates weren’t meant to be serious. The other way I attempted to calm anxieties about prom was the announcement at the last town hall meeting: “I know everyone probably doesn’t have the best memories of their prom. This prom is going to ameliorate all that. Actually, don’t even think of this as prom, think of it as anti-prom.”

Ok, so that’s the primary background of all prom activity leading up to July 29th. Let’s talk about that actual day.

That morning, I was awoken an hour too early by Sharon (I love you, Sharon, but I’m still bitter about this) who couldn’t figure out how to get out of the camper in which we had slept (and to be fair, Jessie and I dealt with the same problem the day before). So at 6:30 am I listened to Sharon as she took apart the door in order to climb out of the camper.

It was difficult to be mad for long though as I was waking up in Eden. The day before we had ridden through 116 miles (and a massive storm, which I found shelter from underneath a hay bale along the side of the road, but that’s another story) into Devil’s Lake, ND. After the ride, we were picked up and taken to Isaiah’s farm where we were to eat and spend the night.

The Bergs were hands down the best hosts of our trip. Everyone in our group continuously exclaimed, “I feel so at home here.” Literally half the town of Starkweather turned out to dinner to meet us. We were all treated to tractor and horseback rides, tours of the farm, dips in the whirlpool, and, perhaps best of all, a plethora of photo albums and embarrassing stories about the Isaiah. Besides being such gracious hosts, they were truly salt of the earth. Never have I encountered such genuine kindness within an entire family.

That night I had chosen to sleep in the Berg camper set up in the driveway. I fell asleep to the most spectacular lightning storm (no thunder could be heard, a North Dakota phenomenon?), which resembled a series of flashbulbs going off in the distance every other second.

So back to the morning. Sharon came back around 7:30 to call Erik and me to breakfast. And what an amazing breakfast it was. Mrs. Berg made her famous caramel rolls and cranberry/white chocolate scones. Ian treated us to French toast from his prized Challah loaf.

To say we were hesitant to leave is an understatement, but leave we did around 9 am. As we rode along in the bus back to Devil’s Lake, our hearts sunk not only because we were leaving the Berg farm, but of what we saw when we looked out the window: Wind. Torrential winds from the west.

We got back to the church, repacked the trailer, and mounted our bikes around 10. The ride was decent for about, oh, the first 1000 meters. We were headed north out of the church until we turned onto Route 2 and headed west.

How can I describe riding against 30 mph winds for 60 miles? It is simply the most demoralizing experience I can think to imagine. You could be pedaling as hard as you possibly can and yet still only reach speeds of 9 mph. You’re constantly being blown to and fro across the road and you cannot coast on you bike for fear of losing momentum (so quickly) that you fall over.

I was told that there would be days on the trip when I would want to throw my bike in a ditch and walk home. This was that day. I however was blessed to be riding with Erik. Just having another person there prevented me from “going to the Dark Side” as it were. Also, having one other person to draft off of was perfect as you can position yourself at either side of the person if the wind is coming from the sides. It also allows greater mobility in times when the wind or road suddenly shifts.

We reached lunch around 1, with our average speed at 11.4 mph (the day before I averaged 18 mph through 116 miles). Shortly after we began lunch, there was quite a bit of bad news as we found out Katrina had tapped wheels in a paceline and gone down. Fortunately, she merely fractured her finger but had to go to the hospital.

After lunch was 28 more miles of riding. While the bad conditions were still just as intense, I got my second wind every time I thought about Prom waiting at the end of the ride. At one point, when Erik and I took a break from the wind behind some hay bales, I took to chalking on the side of the road, “14 miles to Prom!!!”

Erik and I made it to the high school (we couldn’t find a church in this town and so decided to hold prom that night as we would already have to make our own dinner and need a dancing venue) around 4:30. Katrina had just come back from the hospital and had a monster cast on her arm. But what did she want to do? Get back on the bike and get her miles in. Baller. Sure enough, she did 25 miles with the cast at the end of the day.

We found a venue for the dance and began to cook dinner and set up tables outside. As people began to arrive, I was hesitant to get too intense about prom. After all, it was a rotten day of riding. But not a single person got off their bike with a bad attitude. Not only that, but some people had actually taken time out of what they knew would be a long day to get last-minute items at the thrift store in Devil’s Lake.

By 7:30, dinner was prepared (Dan make fruit/veg chili, I prepared some beer bread and cornbread) and we all sat with our dates to eat. Some notable costumes: Kate, Craig, Lindsey, Anson, Isaiah, and Eric took some costumes (including tuxes) from the band room for outfits. Katrina made use of her cast and face scratches to resemble a battered housewife. Zack wore an army camo suit and inadvertently matched his date Jess, who dressed like a Miami floozy. Quang was a cowboy and his date Arianna wore a sequined American flag outfit , the all-American pair. Michelle and John R. matched as a hippie couple. Joy and Sharon dressed similarly. Pen and Kevin dressed up hand-made mannequins to act as their dates (there weren’t enough girls, remember?). Bobby found a cowboy outfit from the band room, but the pants didn’t zip up all the way, causing a lot of laughs. Ian, Shawn, and Derek made use of some random thrift items and could be collectively described as hobos. Maki and Christopher were just fabulous; words can’t describe them. And Dan and I went for a space cadet look (bringing a new level to “Harvest Moon”) with matching hot pink and grey outfits. Dan even detailed the back of his bright pink blazer (found in the women’s section) with “Harvest Moon” along with moons and stars in silver spray paint.

After dinner, I read descriptions of the couples a few of us put together the night before. It began as me merely justifying why I had paired some couples together (unattached people had come to me several days before to be “match made.”) and eventually evolved into a short snippet of everyone:

Quang and Arianna: The Wallflowers. Two emos brooding in the corner. How original.
Jess and Zack: The Skydivers. They met, they fell in love. And then they jumped out of a plane.
Reed: Reinstated. We’ll allow you to this prom, but you have to come up with your own date.
Anson and Lindsey: Moxie and Torch. She’s on fire… at least her eyebrows are. Good thing she’s got Moxie from Alaska to cool her down.
Michelle and John R.: The Tandem Pair. Mathemathics, economics, engineering…a marriage of minds. But probably not bodies.
Pen, Kevin: The Non-Disclosure Pact. “No comment.”
Kate and Craig: The Amazon and the Gods. Amazon women often have trouble finding legitimate men. Then Kate saw Thor and Vigo and the rest is legend.
Kim and Ian: Swinger couple. Because it doesn’t matter who you go to prom with, it’s who you bring home that matters.
Dae: Taken. If you’ve ever admired a girl in his presence, his immediate response is, “Oh no, man. I’ve got a girlfriend.” So Dae gets to bring his girlfriend…in popsicle stick form. That’s right, print out her photo and attach it to a popsicle stick. You can still enter the best dressed, provided she’s decorated appropriately.
John P. and Shawn: The Separatists. Now you can “do your own thing.” Together.
Maki and Christopher: The Finns. The best the Aryan race has to offer. This may not be saying much.
Joy and Sharon: Romy and Michelle. Every prom needs its token lesbian couple.
Derek: “I’m just here for the food.”
Kathy and Dan: Homewreckers. What’s worse, the fact that she asked a taken guy to prom or that he accepted?
Isaiah and Katrina: The Farm Couple. Because farm kids have to start somewhere.
Bobby-One word: townie.
Kristen and Erik: The Sweethearts. Missed volunteering at the animal shelter to come to prom. Shame on you.

Oh, and we took photos! We found an old banner in the back of the trailer and Christopher used the back to write “Harvest Moon.” We tied the banner up, stuck bike materials, a thermarest, and even a gong underneath. Each couple took cheesy photos in front of it all.

After dinner, we did the quintessential after-prom activity: visit the DQ. That’s right, we marched into Dairy Queen in full prom regalia, freaking some townies out in the process. Literally. There were three girls that were straight up horrified by Christopher. Then they started flirting with Ian. Ah, highschoolers.

We went back to the school, where dancing was set up. I figured most people were exhausted and would go to bed, but I could not have expected what came next. For a straight 45 minutes, nearly every bike and builder got on that dance floor and got down. Mind you, this is 11 o’clock at night after what was many people’s hardest day. There were line dances, dance circles, the YMCA (in which was added statements like “free bagels!” and “creepy old dudes in the shower!” by Maki and Christopher, respectively), and mad sing-alongs. It was the best dance of which I had ever been a part.

In fact, it was the best prom ever.

First, pictures!

2008-07-31T11:30:00.000-07:00

more costume contest photos
trying to ride piggyback. the garment bag wasn't cooperating
upset over Shawn's sleeping bag
"If it doesn't get sent home, I'm pitching that thing." -Ian
abuse!

mayday!
Evilsizor for Sheriff. Could there be a more appropriate name? Post-Bike Cleaning. Sick.
114-mile cue sheet into Chicago.
Dirt road through Indiana!

The Tour de Shore
Chi-town skyline
Kristen, me, Pen
Erik, Ian, Kevin
Mary Dear..........

Lunch in Evanston. Fabulous bubble tea.
Ba'hai Temple
Flooding in WI
Reference to Oregon Trail

Thanks, Vanna.
Mail Drop day! i.e. 4-hour feast (it's all gone after that)
BATMAN!
post movie. 2.5 hours until wake-up
Erik's about to conk out

gorgeous evening clouds into Gays Mills
We won $30!
lunch stop
female members of spl
Batman chalking

aww...such a hard day...driving the van
guess what this caption is...
Comic book bible. Dan's face=priceless
medusa
we must have crossed this river or some derivative thereof about 7 times this trip

my precious orange visor! debuts at the circus in Hinckley!

Ian's evil eye becomes that much more intimidating

Laura poses in front of a clothing store

Pen's birthday gift. happy as a child.

Big Fish?

I love middle America.

Nathan Berg takes me on a tractor ride!!! EEEE!

Shelter from the storm. Wind storm, that is.

We got our own private table.

Brilliant.

Background for photos. Note the gong.

Kristen and Erik.

It wouldn't be a prom unless two girls showed up wearing the same outfit.

John R. and Michelle

Making a scene in the DQ. There's an unseen weirded-out townie in the background.

Tourist ploy. You know I ate it up.

Recruiters from Minot State U were stationed in a random parking lot.

Craig narrates the windy condions on the ride into Grand Rapids.

Christopher hands me the lotto ticket right before I scratch off the winning $30.

Wind Biatch (cont'd)

2008-07-25T17:58:00.000-07:00

Okay, so continuing with Tunnel of Fire (read previous post first). So with our eagerness to get to Finnfest and out of Hellfire Tunnel, we went into the first convention room we saw. In this room, about half the size of a football field, were 10 geriatrics and a polka band. Unfazed by this, Christopher marches up the front to secure us a table right next to the dance floor. Within two minutes, Christopher and Jessie were up on the massive dance floor (sparsely populated by three other couples), dancing to Finnish polka. Did it matter that they didn't know the steps? heck, no. That was their encouragement. After about 5 songs of about 2 minutes apiece, the band leader announces a tango. The other couples all sit down, but Jess and Christopher take to the empty dance floor. What ensured was the funniest 7 minutes of dancing to which I have ever borne witness. In a room full of 30 people (more had entered by this point), we being the only ones under the age of 80, Jessie and Christopher performed the sexiest, most elaborate and ridiculous tango on record. At one point Christopher picked up Jessie horizontally and spun her around in a 360. The highlight though was when Jessie broke off, walked backwards and beckoned Christopher to come to her while Christopher crawled across the dance floor toward her. Priceless. Afterward, about 3 different people came to ask the couple how long they'd been dancing together and where they learned to tango. The answers? 15 minutes and never, respectively.

Later that night, Christopher and Maki agreed to go to prom together. Considering I was banking on the fact that Christopher would be my date, Maki just made my hit list. The next night at dinner, we broke into an all-out catfight, involving flailing arms, pulling hair, and when Maki reached for my orange visor, well, I opened a can of whoop-ass on that. Plus some expletives.

Feeling lost and dejected in the aftermath of my trivial triumph against Maki (I mean, I still didn't have a date to prom), I decided to mix things up a little bit (this, after conspiring with some other trip members). It is a well-known fact that Dan and Kim are an item on the trip. Although it's never been formally announced, we do have footage of them making out on the plane right before jumping out (made all that much more hilarious by the fact that it's a subtle background shot; the camera was actually focused on Christopher at that point). Knowing that they probably hadn't discussed going to prom together, we formulated and executed a master plan.

This morning, right before everyone left the church on the ride, I said: "Can I have everyone's attention please? I would like to have your attention as I ask someone to prom." Then, I walked over to Dan, bent down on one knee, took his hand, and asked him to prom. Priceless. This is the one time on the trip when I wished I could be spectator and not participant. Needless to say, it was awkward and Kim was horrified as Dan reluctantly agreed to escort me to prom. But hey, it's not like he had to.

Later today, Kim said, "I'm not going to prom." Christopher, hearing this, replied sassily, "Good, then Kathy's getting laid." I wasn't actually there to hear it, but how priceless. I love it that bad attitudes about prom are getting met with sass. And ostracisation. You are lame if you don't come and actively participate in this prom.

Other than that, not much else happened in Duluth. Today we had an 85-mile ride into Grand Rapids that resembled riding through a tornado. Apparently a front was moving in from the west, creating serious winds. I'm so over getting mad about it, I just laugh. At one point we pulled over and took a video with Craig yelling over the wind as behind him the 2-foot tall grass bent to horizontal under its force.

I got in around 3:30, but my last post was interrupted as Dan took the van to take smoothies out the sweeps, who were way behind. Part of my motivation was to be there for the sweeps, who were heros for bringing everyone in today. Mostly though I just wanted to see the look on Kim's face when my prom date and I drove by in the van. Believe me, I am milking this for all it's worth.

Shazaam.

Make that wind your bitch.

2008-07-25T16:11:00.000-07:00

I last wrote from the small town of Hinckley, MN. I thought it was a wonderful town, replete with a quik-e-mart, high school, and TWO thrift stores. In fact, I found the best buy all trip: a neon orange visor. It is the most god-awful piece of sun protection...i.e. something only my mother would wear. It reminds me of this card I once saw in the campus bookstore. On the cover is a girl's head shot prom photo. Her hair resembles a massive helmet. The word that comes to mind is dowdy. On the inside of the card: Her hair was her chaperone. The implication is that her hair basically wards off the entire male species; no fear of catching any guy stealing milk from THAT cow. Anywho, my visor pretty much accomplishes the same feat. It's so heinous, I'm surprised anyone can bear to look at me while it's on. I wear it religiously.

Also in Hinckley was the circus. Yes, the circus came to town. How fortuitous that we were there considering it was only in town for one night. Tickets were $14, which we agreed was far too much. But the best things in life are free as while we asked about tickets, the previous show let out, bringing with it a massive elephant. Many photo opportunities were seized. All of them with my orange visor.

While I loved the backcountry charm of Hinckley, Craig showed an extreme distaste. "Get me out of here" became his mantra for the evening.

From Hinckley we headed to Duluth. Here too Craig had strong opinions, this time about the weather. Apparently 63 degrees was too cold for the Chicagoan. I however was in rapture over the cool, breezy city.

Also in Duluth was the first synagogue of the trip. I was anxious for some normal hosts, ones without dogmatic harmonized prayer songs (St. Paul), come-hither Jesus drawings (Palermo), Jesus movie posters (Camden), or massive Christian rock lyrics displayed in the dining hall (Westfield). Members of Temple Israel (Reform) were incredibly down-to-earth. We came and they said, "Let's eat, hear about your mitzvah, and then let's eat some more." My kind of people.

As Hinckley had a circus, Duluth had Finnfest. That's right, this weekend is the annual North American Finnfest, held in Duluth. Well we just had to go. My personal motivation was to see the president that looks like Conan O'Brien, who unfortunately was not scheduled to make an appearance before this morning.

So Wednesday night, Christopher, Jessie, Maki, Ian and myself walked 2 miles into the heart of Duluth to find the festival. After a very difficult time finding it, we were directed to go the convention center across the highway via skywalk. As Duluth has weather similar to Yetti's cave in the winter, everything is connected via tunnels. In the summer, they are primarily used to traverse across the highway. However, someone must have missed the memo to turn the heat in the tunnels down. The tunnel was so unbearably hot, Christopher nicknamed it the Tunnel of Fire.

Sorry, we'll have to continue this later; I'll describe my current predicament tonight.

East!

2008-07-22T13:30:00.001-07:00

So we're headed east into Duluth and so excited as its the one time when we are sure to have an easy ride thanks to that wonderful little word: tailwind. But did the wind blow in the prevailing direction of west-to-east today? Of course not. Headwind. All day.

I would get angry, but I know John P. already gets mad enough for the rest of us. John gets personally mad at these acts of nature--which makes for some funny comments. Kudos, J-Muff.

I left out yesterday details about our scavenger hunt, which Christopher formulated in the hopes of breaking up the day. I however was not group photographer, so I'll direct everyone to Craig's blog for better updates/info on that topic. I will however include the one photo I was in that day (see below).

Also, Craig's blog was more detailed in describing the costume contest which took place a week ago. I do however have a small photo of everyone's costume. And I will add that Craig's blog did not emphasize enough how arbitrary the judging was. Allow me: the judging was lame, IAN. For someone who has something witty (and often critical) to say about everything, your M.C.-ing job stunk.

For the most part nothing big has gone down since yesterday. Craig predicted that as soon as we crossed the Mississippi, stuff would start to go down. We've all kept it together though. Well, I would probably be the one exception as I opened a can of whoopass on someone for poor work ethic the other day. It seems to have made a difference though. Shazaam.

Last, I will mention something Anson brought up at presentation the other night. No one from our group has ridden in the van yet. It's been nearly 1800 miles and not one person has rode in the van. Apparently the administration didn't believe our leaders when they told them this was so. And no other bike and build trip has ever made it this far without it happening. It just goes to verify: this is one awesome group of people.

"The Perfect Fusion", "Dolly Parton", "Rider and Camelbak" and "Jasmine"
Two of the scavenger items: "person with a shawl" and "imitating a statue." Killing two birds with one stone!

BBP '08 (reference to PP'06)

2008-07-21T18:05:00.000-07:00

Quickly, photos:
The Lakefront Trail in Chicago!
The Pg-13 version involves me groping Kate
Stopped at a traffic light. Pen's slightly frustrated.
You get it where you can.
Cool photo of Erik.
Fording a massive river.
I wrote this; very proud.
Who you gonna call? Why, me of course!

First off, big shout out to Laura's grandmother, I hear my blog is being read and there are positive reviews. I'm only sorry I can't update more often (and with pictures). And I'm sorry that the REAL WORLD reference was somewhat confusing (see previous posts). Thanks for the feedback.

So we're in St. Paul right now, chillin' in the Lee's crib (we have host families tonight). Some major updates include the most exciting thing to be planned on this trip: Bike and Build Prom 2008. Calm the breathing, sit down, I know this is a lot to handle.

Basically, much in keeping with the theme of the costume contest, everyone will be responsible for finding a date and cheap outfit to attend prom, tentatively scheduled on July 28th. Bonus points for the person who shows up with a local. And no, Kevin, you can't bring Isaiah's sister.

Tickets will be 50 cents to help pay for the cost of decorations and food (that, along with the $20 donation from my lotto winnings. Yes, Christopher and I played the Wisconsin lotto 2 days ago and I scratched off the winning $30). The theme is HARVEST MOON, which is in keeping with the sights/time of the trip (and I figure corn stalks will be pretty easy to come by). Also, it was a theme Christopher came up with for his Prom (am I at all surprised Christopher was on Prom planning committee? no.), but was eventually passed over for "November Rain." Redemption is ours.

So if you are reading this and thinking, "oh, my child/friend/stalk victim on this trip will never go for this," then think again. I have heard some whining from riders about how lame prom was. I intend to nip that in the bud. Yes, prom is over dramatized and built up to no end. Pressure exists to get a date, find an outfit, figure out which group of friends you're joining, finding a restaurant, limo, hotel, whatever. Then there's paying for it all. This is not that kind of prom. You just have to venture into some thrift stores to find an outfit and show up. The fun's on me.

Actually, now that I think about it, this isn't prom, it's anti-prom. It's going to correct for all that frivolous debauchery you experienced in high school and just be plain debauchery.

Get ready, kids. BBP '08 is coming. SHAZAAM!

In other news, the rides have been somewhat strenuous mentally and physically of late. From Madison we rode into Gays Mills. I was one of the cool, smart kids who stayed up the night before for the midnight premiere of THE DARK NIGHT. I almost didn't make it as I took a nap from 8:30 to 11:30 (the showing was at 12:20). I however had chosen to sleep in a rather secluded part of the church, a room where the priests robes were kept. I also assumed that we would leave that night around 11:45. So when I woke up at 11:35, I was shocked to see the number of voicemails on my phone. I checked my text messages first, and saw that Craig had wrote "Where are you?!" Thinking he had written it moments before, I wrote "I'm coming downstairs as we speak." Two second later, Craig called.

"Uh, we're already at the movie."
"What?!" I screamed in shock and horror.
"Uh, yeah, Christopher's going to come back and get you. Be in the church parking lot in 20 min."

Apparently, the group had hoped to leave around 11 for good seats. I was nowhere to be found. Oh, horrors! I'd been left behind! But all we well as the group who stayed at the theatre brought tickets and saved seats as Christopher tore through the night in the massive group van. Had I seen that white, unmarked van rip through the deserted streets that night, I would not have thought "He's on his way to see Batman." Rather, I would have said, "That driver is on crack and he thinks he is Batman."

But all was solved as we arrived in our seats in time to see the 20 min worth of previews before the film actually began. After the film, we got all of two hours of sleep before waking up to begin the 102-mile ride.

I however was in for a treat as I looked at the cue sheet to see the words:
"Sweeps: Kathleen and Jessica. If you see these two today, give them a hug or a smile, as it's going to be a long one for them."

We woke up at 5:30. We left the parking lot at 7:30. We rode 111 miles through terrain akin to western North Carolina. We arrived at the church that evening at 8:30.

Bedtime: 9 pm.

The sweeps, if you are unaware, are the two riders assigned to the back of the pack to encourage anyone having trouble and basically make sure everyone makes it in that night. The day for sweeps is, by definition, longer than everyone elses'. It was quite a long one (including an 8-mile detour, although nothing compared to Anson's ride of 130 miles due to errors on the cue sheet), but I was blessed with a great sweep partner (Jess!) and surprisingly good energy despite my abbreviated snooze time the previous evening.

Today's ride was fun as we had a scavenger hunt throughout the ride. Photos were proof of seeing/getting an item. Awesome things we got:

-one non-domesticated mammal: gorilla at the local zoo
-cyclist on a motorcycle: Jess jumping on a random motorcycle within someone's yard in a period of 30 seconds
-unicorn: storming every antique store between Pepin and St. Paul, eventually settling on a picture from a book in the local library

Well, I better stop being a-social and join the host family upstairs.

Overwhelmed!

2008-07-17T10:04:00.000-07:00

I'm going to have to apologize again as I will have to defer real updates until the next post. I've been getting behind, but often posting comes at the price of doing other activities in the current town. That and the 1-hour computer limits most libraries have instituted.

We're in Madison, using one of our 3 precious days off. Mom came up to Chicago and I was blessed with a bed for the evening. Having only been to Chicago very rarely, I was shocked and amazed at how wonderful the city was. I'm determined to live there at some point.

Also in recent news is the most fabulous costume to come out of Bike and Build costume contests: the human bladder. That's right, our most recent biking challenge (put in place to break up the monotony of a 70-mile day) was a costume contest. Christopher and I made a Camelbak bladder out of a dry cleanin gbag, blue trash bags, and vaccuum hose. Brilliant. Pictures to come soon.

Other than that, there's been violent Teletubbie encounters, river fordings, notes from high school boys left on cars, parties in Janesville Wis., bike clinics, awesome mail stops (thanks, Nana), cotton candy for breakfast (thanks, Mr. Lee), lunch in bogs, town hall meetings, Kangaroo court, and all manner of craziness. It's been great. I promise to elaborate soon, but for right now I have to go out and enjoy it! (I assure you the blog entries will become more prevalent as N. Dakota and Montana approach, provided computers exist out there.)

Shazaam.

The Real World: Bike and Build

2008-07-10T19:07:00.001-07:00

So I promise I'll have a post where I will actually update you on what I've been doing, but for now I'm going to comment on a more pressing matter.

In the past week, as riders now know more than just each other's names (i.e. personalities, quirks, and smell when they haven't showered for a while), subtle changes have taken place. Since the novelty of riding and moving around has worn off, our focus has shifted to the personal drama. Kate came up with a brilliant analogy: The Real World. The Real World, for those of you who haven't watched, is a reality series in which a bunch of random, dramatic, and self-centered individuals are thrown into a house for months at a time. Cameras follow them every hook-up, catfight, and bitch slap of the way.

Now take Bike and Build. Thirty people are tossed together for 10 weeks. Every day they are subject to the most extreme physical duress. They live in close quarters with limited amounts of personal time and space. Throw in some sleep deprivation and bad weather, and you have a ticking time bomb on your hands. This is the situation we face.

Now I'm torn. I think things could continue to go as well as they have. This trip has been blessed with a massive number of easygoing people and positive attitudes. But I also think it's naive to deny that some of us (including, and perhaps especially, me) are going to get cranky and fight with one another. Fortunately though, this trip has Craig to all keep us laguhing.

Anyways, this post is more of a venting/ponificating session. Sorry to vomit thought on the page.

If anything major happens on Real World: B&B, I'll let you know. Like when Kim and Dan become an item or when someone realizes their sleeping bag was purposefully left at the last church. But I've said too much already. Shazaam.

Oh, and more pictures!

Craig at the U.S.S. Niagra

Kathy meets her Waterloo.
"You will never guess where we are. Ever." Ian, Penn and I at the Rutherford B. Hayes house.
This high-maintenance poodle with painted pink toenails. Seriously.

PICTURES!!!

2008-07-08T17:45:00.000-07:00

Behold the Beacon. It set a major precident as that was how we spent our first night together.

I was so scared of this stupid costume when I was younger.

Girls' day out

Me, Kim, Craig

Shoveling for five hours the day before made me almost drop my bike in multiple times.
Missing lunch that first day. We carry chalk with us in order to mark the route for riders behind, but often end up writing messages.

Flea market in New Hampshire. Full of people pedaling crap I would not touch with a 10-ft pole. One guy came up to me trying to sell me a hooka pipe to attach to my camelbak. He had obviously been smoking too much hooka.

Dan and Christopher, trip leaders. Here, a butterfly landed on Dan and Christopher becgan to serenade it.

The butterfly alighted (i.e. was forced) onto Christopher's nose.

Craig's Duck Basket

Zack! Save yourself! Wear gloves when touching that.

Wringing out other people's chamois.

Born and Bred.

I am proud to say this was entirely my idea.

I woke up to find this picture on my camera.

Yes, these are my friends.

This bike shop in Vermont had chickens roaming around the backyard.

You can thank me for that design.

Priceless. I whipped out my photo to take an action shot of john going over the pass and accidently took a shot of myself mid-climb.

Best road sign ever.

With Craig on the ferry to New York.

Lunch on the Hudson.

Come Hither Jesus. The signature reads: "With Love, J"

Spelling in middle America.

Niagra!

Fireworks on the falls!

The Bike and Build calendar idea is most wholeheartedly rejected. And Isaiah, please lets keep that tan under wraps.

Hellloooooooo Cleveland!

Best lake party. Ever.

The sunset couldn't really be captured.

Igby Goes Down

2008-07-07T19:30:00.000-07:00

I am so glad people love decking out their bikes. If my bike weren't new and I weren't so anal, I would do the same.

One popular bike feature has been stickers. Several riders, all of whom are male, have taken to putting Chuck E. Cheese stickers on helmets and frames. Craig found a wicker duck basket (see quote to right) that was in a "free" bin at a flea market in New Hampshire (so you know it's of quality craftsmanship). He now has it fastened to the front of his handlebars. Kristen found a rubber dinosaur on Route 69 and has him jerry-rigged onto the back of her bike. She named him Igby, forseeing the likelihood he would come off the bike, giving her the opportunity to yell: "Igby goes down!" Brilliant.

Uhh...I'm really sorry but I Kim and Kristen and I are having girl talk in the Marken's living room--long story. I'll fill you in tomorrow night; the Marken's have fabulous wireless. Shazaam.

Sexy Pace Line

2008-07-03T12:08:00.000-07:00

What happens when 5 decent riders join forces to become the most unstoppable force the history of this trip has known? Why SPL of course.

Three days ago we were all coming off our disasterous ride to Indian Lake when we were faced with the prospect of a hilly, windy, 75-route into Boonville. Somehow the fates aligned as five unlikely riders (myself, Ian, Jess, Erik and Kate) came together to form a pace line of epic proportions. What made our pace line so effective I think was that, despite having never ridden with each other before, no one interrupted the line with ego-laden riding (i.e. dropping the group when pulling) and everyone was so appreciative after your turn to pull, it was a very emotional team experience. That, and we were the first to arrive. The woman who greeted us told us we were the first group in 5 years to make it to the church before 2pm. Shazaam.

But let me explain this pace line concept a little better. In riding, much of you energy is spent breaking the wind. A pace line is formed when 2 or more riders ride in a straight line. The person out front, the "puller" breaks the wind for everyone riding behind, making it a lot less work to go the same speed. The line rotates so that each person takes a turn out front for several miles or so, spreading the work evenly amongst the line. In Boonville, we described this process to a woman at dinner. In the middle she interrupted: "Oh, yeah, just like Nascar." Yes, just like Nascar.

Hmm, what else have we been up to? Two nights ago we were in Palermo, another blip on the map. We stayed in the Lutheran Church, where pastor Tammy was resident bulldog. No lie, Tammy had some sass to spill on everyone. Throughout our presentation, Tammy sat in the back and acted as peanut gallery. I wish I could remember a few more specific comments, but one sticks out. Isaiah had left a necklace at Tammy's house when we were taking showers. He informed her of this and she responded, "You better come get it tonight before my husband comes home." Really? Really.

Also of note at the Lutheran Church was a strange picture of Jesus. Several years ago, when the class went to Washington, the National Catholic Church had this giant mural of what we later referred to as "angry Jesus." This picture was "come hither Jesus." Yes, this picture of Jesus was giving you the eye. Even better was the writing: "With Love, J."

The next day we arrived at RIT, a school that was designed after the gulag if ever there was one. When John R. pointed out that I had never seen a gulag, I told him my mother once worked in one. Unfortunately, not many people that entered my mother's old office ever came out.

We worked on a build yesterday, the highlight of which was Penn and Erik breaking off vines by playing Tarzan. Also, I got to show off my forestry skills when we needed to chop off a limb from a tree stump. Sean made a valiant effort with the axe, but only a real forest ranger knows how it's done (i.e. moi).

Also yesterday we went to the movies. I was adament about seeing "Wanted" with Angelina Jolie and accompanied Craig and Ian. Needless to say, it was the worst movie I ever saw in theatres and (because Craig was there) the funniest too. I will be writing and posting a review soon because it was just that heinous.

We're in Lockport today with plans for Niagra tomorrow. I'll be writing again soon since there's more to tell, yet little time remaining on this computer.

Thank you all for the mail, I felt like a popular kid this time around (because let's face it, love is measured in care packages on this trip).

Worst of Times, Best of Times

2008-06-29T16:42:00.001-07:00

I was in charge of writing the journal from yesterday's ride. I'm just going to post this for today.

Saturday, June 28^th, 2008

I want to begin this letter with a dedication to the parents of NUS ’08 riders. Every day I consider myself so blessed to be a part of this amazing group of people. Thank you for allowing them to be a part of this trip and a part of my life. This experience would not be the same were it not for everyone’s personality, insight, excitement, humor and attitude. All these characteristics help to make the worst days the best ones. Today was one of those days.

Imagine, if you will, mountains. Imagine riding over them, on your bike. Now imagine 60 miles' worth of this activity. Unfortunately, even the most creative minds cannot fathom the intensity of such a ride. Your impressions of riding over mountains are inadequate. It’s like Socrates’ Allegory of the Cave. You can’t explain sunlight and real images to the cave-dwellers; much like you cannot recreate the pain and suffering of riding biking over (not through) the Adirondacks.

Unfortunately for the group, riding 60 miles of mountainous road was just the beginning. Around 2 pm, the most torrential downpour I have ever witnessed hit this earth. I was one of three people who did not get caught in this rain. The other 90 percent of the riders were still on the road looking for the campsite, or, if you were Arianna, Zach, Anson, Quang, or Jessie, just leaving lunch. Aside from riding 4 hours and 25 miles in such weather (and it rained the entire time), Anson was deliriously sick, Zach had 5 flats, and Quang was bandaged up more than a mummy (having suffered an injury the day before).

Can I just reiterate that everyone was riding up mountains in torrential downpour?

Another serious issue was a typo on the que sheets. Que sheets are basically direction sheets every rider carries with them on the road. The campsite we were planning to stay at could be reached by a country road turnoff before the town. When Kristen, Laura, and I reached the turnoff, we decided to go straight to town and relax as we preceded even the van. Those who made the turnoff (i.e. everyone else) were distressed to discover the directions were wrong (it was a right, not a left). The road dead-ended four miles later, about an hour’s worth of detouring for everyone involved.

When Ian, Penn, Dae, Kevin, Derrick, and Dan arrived in town around 3, we all went out to eat. At this point we still thought we were staying in tents that evening. Dan had the glorious idea to ask the local churches if we could stay in their basements. So after the meal we hit up the parishes. I say the word ‘parishes’ because both would not allow the boys and girls to sleep in the same building. Seriously? And this coming the night after Kate and Dae had been paired to room together at the resort at Silver Bay (Zach and I had also been paired together, but they thought we were married).

When everyone finally gathered at the Baptist Church around 6:30, the stories came out. Back around mile 15, John R. missed a turn and wound up riding 8 miles in the wrong direction. Isaiah, several hundred meters back, took off after him but failed to catch up as John was headed downhill. Both odometers read 75 miles by the end of the day (just as a point of reference, mine read 56). When John P. returned after the wrong turn on the que sheet, he took off in a huff ahead of Bobby and others. When something came off his bike and he had to turn around through the pouring rain and pick it up, he screamed, “Agh! I can’t even throw a tantrum correctly!” Ian walked into the convenience store and was invited to go mud sliding by a group of drunken locals. Back before lunch, Reed saw a sign for “Snowmobiling and Horseback Riding.” Jumping at his chance to hop on a horse, he stopped and rode around a mare named Freckles for a half hour and in the process brought a whole new meaning to the term “saddle sores.” The quote of the day came from Penn: “This rain is really doing a number on my Chuck E. Cheese’s stickers.”

Later in the evening the girls went off to the Methodist Church 4 blocks down the road. As I left, I recall seeing Isaiah conked out on the floor and Quang walking around in a purple towel draped like a toga. I hear some Britney Spears music was broken out after all the girls left. I know Kevin was leading that karaoke party.

Overall, the ride was awful. I must have gone through every expletive in my repertoire in making those climbs. But just the thought of Quang riding injured or Anson riding sick though those same hills hours later (and turns out their weather was infinitely worse than mine) was inspiration enough to get me through.

And despite being the worst day on record, I didn’t hear a single word of complaint from the riders. Instead, I just heard laughter.

Mrs. Hill?

2008-06-27T18:10:00.000-07:00

Well I left off last night talking about my impending laundry duty; turns out there's another story to tell. Arianna and I came in to switch the loads from the washers to dryers. The chamois in one of the washers however did not seem very wet. We did what my mother likes to term the "sniff test." Unfortunately for us, we realized soon after sniffing that these chamois weren't clean. Turns out we never started that washer. God save us.

At dinner we had quite a bit of fun discussing ways to get back at the proprietors of the church at which we stayed. I can't go into specifics, but I was laughing for a straight hour; fortunately this is not an unusual occurrence on the trip.

This morning we had to bike out of the valley through Brandon pass. 2100 feet, baby. From there we went to Brandon and visited an outdoor market. I bought some soap, which, as you may have guessed, was much needed. The hills didn't stop however and we continued to the ferry crossing on Lake Champlain. The next 13 miles were the longest of the trip as the route was full of rolling hills and the day was stretching into mid-afternoon. But five miles from our destination, we realized (having been riding along Lake George and deducing from the title of our next destination, "Silver Bay") we would be staying in a resort town that night.

Well, resort town turned into an actual resort. Think the location in "Dirty Dancing." Yeah, that's where we're staying. We actually have rooms with beds. Besides that, there are a myriad of activities in which to partake: archery, sailing, kayaking, swimming, tennis, hiking, shuffleboard, etc. Most of us only got around to one or two activities. We all wish we were staying longer.

Our rooms are all doubles and the resort automatically paired people up. Someone seeing the names "Kathleen Hill" and "Zach Hill" assumed we were married and placed us in a room together. The two of us decided to have a "trial separation" however and I am now rooming with Kate.

Not much else to report other than amazingly fun times and gorgeous views of the lake. Maybe some sore legs too. Shazaam.

Fabreeze

2008-06-26T13:37:00.000-07:00

First order of business: major shout-out to Mr. Lee, Craig's father. This afternoon, after the hardest hill I have ever ridden, I went to the post office excited at the prospect of mail. Alas, there was none for me. As I sat watching other kids with brownie- and cookie-laden care packages, something died within me. So I sat next to Craig for some vicarious letter love. But alas, in the last of Craig's letters (he had 3), there was a picture with Craig, his family, and Jay Leno. The post-it note read "for Kathy Hill." Thank you, Mr. Lee. I am framing this photo. Along with the post-it note.

Yeah, Bethel Mountain lived up to the hype. I planned to go up it without getting off my bike, but when my pulse hit 200 on the first major climb, I figured it might be a good idea to take a breather. But the bad stretch only lasted about a mile (i.e. 30 min); I really don't think it will be the worst day of the trip.

Upon arrival in town, I had lunch with the guys. Despite the pouring rain, we refused to enter the church as we had heard horror stories from Christopher about its proprietors. Apparently the church refused to host us (which was a problem since it's the only one in Rochester), citing a bad experience from last year's group (but seriously, how badly can you trash a church?). Anyways, the only way Christopher was able to secure a roof over our heads was to sign a waiver which would hold him financially responsible for any damages inflicted upon the area.

About 30 min. after loading our gear into the only room we were allowed into, a woman showed up wanting to speak to Christopher. She emphasized that the board of trustees would be coming through tomorrow to check the church over before we were allowed to leave. She was hands down the rudest person I had met on this trip until Christopher asked where the vaccuum was located. "Vaccuum" must have been the magic word, because after that she lightened up. Christopher informed us however that they had injected him with a poisonous serum, the antidote would only be given upon the immaculate return of the church. Perhaps we should call upon Jesus to help us with such an endeavor. That, and about 10 gallons of Fabreeze.

Which reminds me, funny quote of the day comes from John: "Dude, why didn't we get a sponsorship from Fabreeze?"

Looking forward to those care packages; please send clif bars. Right now, I'm off to clean everyone's dirty laundry. Chamois: shazaam.

Bethel

2008-06-25T16:28:00.000-07:00

Bethel moutain, wha wha. That's all I've heard about since this trip began and I am surely ready to let this hill know who's boss. Apparently it's a six mile climb up some major pass and has been termed the hardest day of the trip. As long as I finish near the lead group and get some lunch, I expect to be fine.

The past several days we've spent in Lebanon building habitat houses. There hasn't been much to report other than the fact that Dad and Uncle Dave came through last night. We had dinner and I had to hear about their oh-so harrowing ride...on motorcycles. Staying in hotels. Eating out. What a rough trip.

Other than some other minor points, there simply hasn't been alot to report. I've some rather amusing pictures from the build sites and of the newly-painted trailer (compliments of Craig, Maki, and myself). Shazzam.

The Final Countdown

2008-06-23T10:25:00.000-07:00

It's the third day of riding already and there is one fact that shocks me: everyone still has a good attitude. In fact, I would venture to say that the trip's members are happy...all the time.

The reason for my shock stems from several places. First off, mornings are early. The first riding day began at 5:30 a.m. Dan, wonderful trip leader that he is, woke everyone up with the trip's theme song: Final Countdown. The moment I heard it, I lept out of my sleeping bag and went streaking down the hall to form an impromptu dance party with Dan and Isaiah at the music's source. That pretty much embodied how excited we were.

My shock continued when, though the first ride was 65 miles over massive hills and some dirt road, there were no serious complaints. Everyone seemed to share a collective laugh about the day's trials. For one thing, everyone got lost at some point or another. I was riding with a group that didn't even get lunch. Brendan, who drove the van that day, decided to move the lunch spot back several miles. Unfortunately we had already gone by the new location and therefore missed it. By the time we had called Brendan, we were all of 12 miles from Concord, so we just pressed on. We wound up just laughing about it, drawing sad chalk faces and arrows pointing behind us reading "Lunch?"

I'm not gonna lie, I was exhausted after the first day. I thought for sure there were people who were not going to make it, but alas, everyone rode their bikes the whole way to the church.

I should also mention our wheel-dipping ceremony which occurred early that morning at a beach just outside Portsmouth. We dipped our back wheels in and when we reach Vancouver, we'll dip our front wheels in to finish the cycle.

Yesterday and today the rides continued in intensity. The hills are still fairly moderate; everyone keeps talking about some giant mountain we'll be climbing in a couple days. Bring it, I say. We did have some rain today which was fun but made for poor visibility and wet clothing later.

Right now we're staying in Lebanon, NH. Right now I'm in Dartmouth's library typing this out, ecstatic at the opportunity to use a computer. For all North Central people, I wondered whether I would see anyone I knew on campus and sure enough, about 20 min after I arrived in town I saw Marcus Gadson. He had no clue who I was. But he seems to have grown quite a bit. He's more...normal?

A last quick anecdote is our adventures at the laundromat yesterday. Laundry duty consists of gathering everyone's dirty clothes in two giant tarps: one for normal clothing and one for riding gear (i.e. chamois, pronounced 'shamies'). Okay, just to give all those unfamiliar with some of the more intimate details of riding: bicycle shorts (chamois) are worn without underwear. Most days you just wear the same pair to cut down on washing cycles. So, wrapping the two tarps tight like giant laundry burritos, we stuffed the stuff in the van and made our way to the laundromat. Now I have to hand it to the other members of my crew: what troopers. Arianna and Zach just dove their bare hands into those dirty chamois to stick them in the wash. I was not about to touch other people's dirty chamois directly. Give me some gloves and tweezers and maybe I'll do it. Better yet, get me a biohazard suit.

It didn't stop there. The washer with the chamois broke in the middle of the cycle, leaving us with a mountain of wet clothing. We then had to hand wring the entire load. Penn made a gorgeous comment: "I don't really feel as though I know a person unless I've wrung out their underwear with my bare hands." I laughed the entire afternooon.

Well I better get back to living; I promise pictures are forthcoming. I love the comments, keep them coming.

First Days

2008-06-20T15:04:00.000-07:00

Be proud kids, I just took a shower. It's been 4 days, and in that period I completed a run, three bike rides, and 5 hours moving dirt. Shazaam.
But seriously, the trip thus far has already exceeded my expectations. Everyone is rocking my socks off, each having so many of their own crazy stories to tell that I expect no one will bat an eye at stories like Idaho or the Incident. Okay, well the Incident probably can't be topped; even by the guy who lives in Alaska (Anson), the girl who went to Swiss boarding school (Michelle), or or even our trip leader who did the Peace Corps in Senegal (Christopher). My favorite rider thus far is Craig, who deadpan sense of humor is priceless. When asked what riding experience he had, he replied, "Um, yeah, the ride around the parking lot when they assembled my bike 20 min. ago." And then last night a woman exclaimed, "I can't believe you're riding across the country!" Deadpan, Craig said: "Neither can we."
Right now I suspect I'm being qualified as that "ridiculous trash talker." It started the second someone busted out Scrabble. Unfortunately I couldn't dominate due to the number of people playing (4) and my abysmal luck in letter draws. It probably also didn't help that one of the guys playing did Scrabble tournaments in high school. I came in dead last. But I'm going to redeem myself with a win against Tournament Player.
As for what we're up to, well not too much at the moment. We've spent alot of time getting oriented and making last-minute shopping runs. Yesterday a couple other girls (Kimberly, Lindsay) and I rode to Portsmouth in our free time and spent the afternoon trollin' the the town. It was awesome being stopped by people on the streets asking what we were up to (mind, we all had our jerseys on and were walking around with our bikes). Today we spent time at a build site. Our group was in charge of spreading loam (dirt) over the yard. The work required shoveling dirt from 9ft. piles onto a lawn the size of a small football field. Needless to say, it's likely going to be a sore day tomorrow.
Riding starts in the morning, beginning with an opening ceremony where we dip our back wheels into the Atlantic (the front one will be dipped in the Pacific when we reach Vancouver). Tomorrow's ride is 65 miles.
I'll be posting pictures soon, including some of Portsmouth, rides, and Chuckee Cheese's (sp? which btw is conveniently located right next door to the church).

2008-06-17T09:54:00.000-07:00

Upon arrival at the Nieman's (Wolfeboro, NH), I was delighted to find the bike already assembled by my engineering cousin. When asked if everyone got the same model bike, I told him I got the (S/s)pecialized female model. "Oh," said he, "that's why it's pink." Image my delight at the knowledge that my buiser bike, soon to put a hurtin' on even the best of this trip's riders, is pink. Girl power, for sure. And let's not forget this sentiment: Shazaam.

A note on the title

2008-06-14T09:15:00.000-07:00

"Ridin' Dirty," as you may already be aware, is a play on the popular song of the same title. While it in no way reflects my musical tastes, it does describe my penchant for debauchery. Additionally, it hints to the inevitable hygenic downfalls I will experience over the next 4,000 miles. Forboding, I know. But I can assure you we'll all have a laugh over it...someday.