Ironman Coeur d'Alene

Ironman Coeur d'Alene (Ironman Hades) Race Report

Sunday, 1:30 am.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Ugh. Soreness. Bedtime was 10 pm and I've probably only gotten an hour or two of sleep since then. I crawl out of bed, tiptoe into the kitchen, and fumble for the fridge door. "Ow!" Pure brightness assails my eyes. I grab my smoothie, and slurp it in the dark. It's a health nut concoction made of bananas, blueberries, beets, nuts, chia seeds, peanut butter, turmeric, black pepper, and kefir from goat milk.

It's good practice to eat breakfast four hours before race start, but this doesn't seem worth it. I finish, drink as much water as I can, and flop back into bed. Next alarm: 4:10 am. I toss and turn for a bit, cursing myself for my inane life decisions, and fall back asleep.

Thursday, 9:00 am.

Rewind two days. I'm at physical therapy for my Achilles. I have tendinitis in my right tendon, and tendinosis in the left (caused by a long run sometime in April). This isn't good. I'm not supposed to run, hike, or even walk too hard. As a responsible patient, I am planning on doing Ironman Coeur d'Alene on Sunday.

My therapist's advice: Walk the marathon, and stop if it hurts. She then says that today will be easy so I'm all rested by Sunday - and follows up by having me do way too many one legged squats. I bike home, already feeling a bit sore. 

Friday, 1:00 pm.

Yay! After a very sore seven hour drive to Coeur d'Alene, I register, get my swag bag, attend the pre-race talk, and get really intimidated by all the other triathletes. Everyone looks intense, and there aren't many smiles going around. I meet Godwin and Lindsay, Hunter's friends from Whitman. Godwin's family is graciously hosting us for the weekend, and we drive 20 minutes to the Peck household. I fall in love. They live in a cute house on the edge of town, make absolutely everything from scratch, and have a fantastic family dynamic. We hung out, Saskia (Godwin's mom) cooked amazing dinner, and went to bed early.

Saturday

I drop off my bike and transition bags, go for a 20 minute swim, and feel the soreness recede a bit. We hang out in town, then return to the house. Saskia offers to stick some needles into my tendons (she does acupuncture). It felt great! It's about bedtime, so I make breakfast, have a snack, lay in bed, and stare at the ceiling for a few hours, contemplating failure and irreparable injury to my Achilles.

Sunday, 5:30 am.

BAM! The pros are off. Race start was moved an hour early due to the extremely high predicted temperatures: 105 F. It must be 70 F already. Fifteen minutes to the age-group swim start. I pull on my wetsuit, warm up in the water, and laugh hysterically until the gun goes off.

5:55 am.

Swim

I plunge into the water, and focus on breathing, getting a solid pace going, and trying not to get kicked in the face. The swim is mostly unremarkable, but really fun! I get smacked, smack accidentally in return, and swim the 2.4 miles in an hour and thirteen minutes.

Transition 1

Wetsuit strippers! My favorite. I pull my wetsuit down to my waist, lay down, and let two of them rip it off of me.

I rush into the transition tent, put on my bike shoes, helmet, and sunglasses, gulp down a salt pill and some water, then go outside. Someone slathers sunscreen all over me, and I head to the bike.

Bike

It's a beautiful cloudless morning. The crowds are out already, cheering in the 90 degree weather. I start easy, warm up for a few miles, and put my head down, enjoying the light breeze and the view. 

It gets hot, fast. The bike course isn't too bad -  about 5000 ft elevation gain. I love hills, so I pass everyone going up the mild grades, and get passed in return in the downhills and on the flats.
The heat starts getting brutal. Aid stations are every 10 miles. I get into a routine:
1) See aid station approaching
2) Dump my water bottles on my head, chest, and arms to cool myself down
3) Grab two new bottles from volunteers, and ask them to dump water on me as I pedal by
4) Feel refreshed for the next five minutes until the heat sucks every bit of moisture out of me.
I pop salt pills at random, and stick to eating a Jete bar every 20 miles, which works out really well.

As the hours go by, less and less people smile back to me, as faces become more and more grim. Heads go down, and legs struggle to maintain a constant rhythm. The pavement starts radiating heat, and drums start pounding the insides of my skull. One of the aid stations runs out of water, and all the others run out of ice. The water bottles they hand us are 105 F.
The hills are a massacre. Coming down the last big one during my last 10 miles, I pass a line of fifteen dejected athletes, pushing their bikes up the grade. Occasional abandoned bikes punctuate the shoulder, and I have to peer into the scraggly underbrush to pick out a figure huddled beneath the meager shade, waiting for hell to subside. I pass a volunteer holding a big sign proclaiming "You didn't know you signed up for Ironman Hades!". I had to laugh - he certainly had it right

Despite the heat, it was a fantastic ride.
Do you know the feeling when your smile gets so big you think your face might split in half; when your heart fills up to bursting with happiness; when you want to cry for seemingly no reason; when you don't know what to do with all the joy suddenly flooding your veins? This occasionally happens to me when I'm challenging myself doing something I love. It's more potent than runner's high or anything I have ever experienced. It fills me up to the brim, overflows, and all I can do for the next few minutes is sport a big stupid grin, replaced occasionally by throaty chuckles, all the while getting misty eyed.
This is how I spent most of the 112 mile bike ride. I must have looked absolutely mental.
Six hours and twenty five minutes of this later, I was done! I roll back into town, and the crowds have swollen to unprecedented proportions. They are all yelling, cheering, dancing, and having an absolutely fantastic time encouraging us. I get off my bike and rush into T2

Transition 2
At this point in the race, the organizers are worried. People are dropping like flies, and heatstroke is a real issue. Therefore, as I enter the changing tent, I get a literal gallon of ice water dumped on me, followed by a few damp rags to cover my neck and forehead. I put on some socks, running shoes, and my sunglasses. Whoops - should've brought a hat. I get out of the tent, and the same girl from before covers me in an even thicker layer of sunscreen. "She absolutely loves this job" hoots one of the other volunteers, presumably her mother. She blushes beet red, and I giggle myself to the run start

Run
Here it is. I have to exert every ounce of self control to not run. It's not worth it to injure myself more. It's one of the hardest things I have ever done. Crowds surround me, cheering, but obviously confused. Why isn't he running? He doesn't look that tired. Why is he smiling? "Good job pacing yourself!" I try to keep a straight face, but I just want to cry. Six miles and an hour and a half later, I get to the turn-around. I hate myself and everything around me. I'm not even tired at this point, just frustrated. I chat with Sara as we both walk up a hill, and as she jogs away at the summit, something in me snaps. As a runner, I've been going slowly insane at seeing people doing what I love, when I can't. I have been power walking, and my Achilles are hurting a bit. "Fuck it". I begin the slowest, most shambling jog I have ever attempted. It's barely over walking speed, but mentally, it's what I needed. This zombie-like shuffle actually puts less force on my Achiiles than my walk did, so I alternate for the next few miles.
"Shit". My toenail. I bought Saucony Rides for the extra cushioning and bigger heel drop than my Kinvaras, but since I haven't ran since May, I never got to break them in. Not a good idea. One of my toenails feels like it's being pried off, so I have to clench my left foot. This alters my stride, and after a mile or two more, my right leg right under the kneecap seizes up. I unclench my foot and grimace through the pain, but the damage has been done. I start limping on my right leg.
At this point, I see a lady walking in front of me. I speed up, introduce myself, and get to chatting. Tracy has done a few Ironman's before, but none like this one. She hasn't been able to keep food down since mile six of the run, and is considering giving up at the half-way mark. Seeing that she needs motivation, I stick with her, and convince her to keep on chugging. We run/walk/stagger back until mile 12. At this point I should add that the citizens of Coeur d'Alene (bless their beautiful hearts) saved all of us from heatstroke. Almost every single house had a hose or a sprinkler out, blasting us with watery goodness. Some angel would stand there for six hours, holding a hose, asking every athlete going by if they needed to be blasted in the face. Bands played. The "happy fun happy corner" MC told jokes, encouraged us, and coaxed smiles out of the most unwilling faces as we went by.
At this point in the race, morale was incredibly low. Everyone was walking. Occasionally, we would lurch forward for a few hundred feet before slowing almost to a halt, and struggling to keep forward momentum. Even the best runners couldn't do it. Groups of two or three would form, chat dejectedly for a bit, and then separate. Luckily, there was an aid station every mile. I devised a new routine.
1) grab water with one hand and ice with the other
2) drink water, pour ice down my back
3) grab two sponges, put them in my jersey
4) grab water and gatorade, alternate drinking both
5) snag a few chips, banana chunks, or orange wedges. Wash them down with water
6) allow a kind volunteer to soak me

But back to mile 12. Tracy and I arrive to the turnaround. She jokingly pretends to run right through it, and I remind her of something she shared with me "You said that crossing the finish line to all these people cheering you and yelling your name was the best feeling you have ever experienced. Are you really going to give that up after already committing twelve hours because you're tired? Come on Tracy, we can do this!" She stares at me, and I can only imagine the gargantuan struggle going through her head. Finally she turns around and jogs up to where I'm waiting. "Come on", she says. We run for a few miles before we get separated at an aid station. I start walking again and meet Liza. She's on her first lap, and doesn't think she will make the cutoff time. We walk/jog for a few miles together, and get separated. I chat with lots of people, slowly getting through the mileage, trying to avoid thinking about how stiff my right leg is getting and how much my toenail hurts.
The sun is going down, providing some shade and beautiful views of the lake, which is slowly getting shrouded in mist.
Around mile 22, Tracy catches back up with me. She looks good. She finally got a gu down, and is feeling strong. Back to business. I run with her for a few miles, but my ankles start hurting so I tell her to give it her all and to finish strong. She turns back and thanks me for helping her through that tough moment, saying she couldn't have done it alone. I blink back a tear or two as she picks up speed and runs to the finish.

The last few miles are very nice. I hang out with Edward, who is doing his first Ironman as well. We agree to walk till we have about half a mile left, and then run to the finish together. As we take the last turn, my heart fills up again. We're on the Coeur d'Alene main street. On both sides of the road, people sitting at restaurants or standing by the fence cheer at us. Hunter, Godwin, Saskia, and Nathan (Godwin's brother) are there cheering, so I run by and high five them all. A few blocks later, the road narrows into the finishing chute. I see my dad amidst the crowd, run over to him, and give him a huge hug.
I let Edward go first, and follow him to the finish, giving high fives and smiling myself silly the whole way. The crowd went absolutely wild - it was magical.
After thirteen hours and forty-one minutes, I'm done!

I go into the athlete area, and Sara that I met at the beginning of the run gives me a huge bear hug "We did it!". I devour a few slices of pizza, then ride back to the Peck's with my dad

Monday
I am told a few fun facts. Apparently, this is the hottest Ironman they have ever had. Out of the 2000 people supposed to compete 200 people didn't even start, and around 400 dropped out during the race.
Also, a truck carrying 2 million bees crashed about 200 yards from the course, which could have been tragic. Imagine 1400 tired, sunburnt athletes in no position to run being chased by swarms of angry bees into the lake. It puts the difficulty of the race into some nice perspective.
I was sore Monday, but luckily had no pain on my Achilles. Saskia did some acupuncture on my right leg, which helped a lot.
As it was my first time doing this, I severely misjudged how much body glide to apply, and my butt and lower thighs are incredibly chaffed. I also have the best tramp stamp sunburn from hunching over on he bike. It's pretty awesome.

Thoughts

Doing this race was an amazing experience. Not especially because of the actual race - the distances were long, but not particularly difficult. What I really enjoyed was how the heat brought us all together. Since everyone was walking, I talked with so many wonderful people, gained insight into why other people do stuff like this, and in one case convinced someone to finish despite the pain. The volunteers went absolutely all out. One of the aid stations was "invaded by aliens" - all of them were wearing costumes, despite the heat.
There was one memorable volunteer all by himself in the sun in the middle of nowhere on the bike, cheering himself hoarse every time I went by.
I got to meet people who pushed themselves to their utter limit, no matter the suffering encountered on the way. Remember Liza who I ran with for a bit? I was watching the race video that Ironman makes, and one of the last shots is her crossing the finish line in the dark with her hands raised up in celebration.
While Ironman Hades was certainly difficult, I'm hooked. It's such a great distance to race, and once I'm all healed up I want to do another, and run the whole marathon!
Now that this goal is over, I should announce my next adventure soon. Stay tuned!
Hint: It involves bicycles and South America.

Love,
Malcolm

Post-ride information overload

Hi hi from Syracuse!

This is my last post, and in it is contained various pictures from east of Colorado, silly stories about my post-trip fun, me reminiscing about biking cross-country, and a book list!

The bike path from Silverthorne to Breckenridge

Highest point on the transamerica! It's mostly downhill from here.

The view from Hoosier Pass

My only nice picture from Western Kentucky

Looming storm clouds in Kansas - I found shelter, fast.

Current River - Missouri

Crossing the Ohio river from Illinois to Kentucky

Kentucky sunrise

Treehouse!

Happiness is a bike tour

Newby, the wonderful groceries fairy

As much as I hate invasive vines, they make for some interesting landscapes

Somebody in Virginia doesn't like Obama

Mick biking up the Virginia Creeper Trail

Now I know why they're called the blue ridge mountains

Panorama from the blue ridge parkway

Sunrise somewhere pretty in Virginia

Struggling to lift my bike over my head in victory (I failed)

 After finishing my trip, I drove into DC, spent a day there, and then Sonya and I went to the beach in Delaware.

Sonya super excited for the beach

View of the Atlantic from a beach in Delaware

After that, we drove to Princeton to visit my friend Thaddeus!

A great evening ensued, including but not limited to: heart-stopping hoagies, rock climbing, unnecessary difficulties in choosing 6packs, night-time exploration of Princeton, dredging the depths of youtube (this), drunk facetime, hand-carved wooden spoons, and 40 koozies.

No, that's not a corpse - that's a bacon cheeseburger, french fry, and  mac 'n' cheese wedge hoagie.
Princeton knows how to stop your heart (hand for scale)

Thaddeus channeling his inner Nordic god at the Princeton climbing wall.

After that, we went to see Abbe Hamilton in PA! Unfortunately, I have no pictures, but we went caving (oh man did I miss caving), and then attended a potluck with the caving crew! It was incredibly fun. The evening included explaining burning man to an Italian girl with barely any knowledge of english, being called Chip & Chop (the Italian version of Chip & Dale) due to our matching fleeces, lots of fun songs about animals and nature, and trying to patch Abbe's thumb up after she cut it with a bread knife and refused to tell anyone but me. It was fantastic!

Now, some random thoughts about bike touring!

I would absolutely recommend it to anyone. Any budget can accommodate it, any pace works, and you'd be surprised by how easy it is to get in biking shape, regardless of how fit you were before. Physical disrepair is no excuse for not being able to tour. I've met several couples in their late 60's / early 70's who were having an absolutely fantastic time.

There were times when thought I'd made a huge mistake. I would think: "What kind of hubris inspired me to take on this trip?". But after pushing through and continuing on, I realized that you can only thrive in adversity - constantly blowing your comfort bubble to smithereens and exalting in the catharsis that ensues.
The challenge - both mental and physical of putting in 50+ hour weeks of biking will change you. It's impossible to spend 8 hours a day on a saddle with negative, petty, or angry thoughts. You simply won't make it. Instead, you find yourself focusing on the positives of every situation, and on the amazing experience you've gotten yourself into.

Touring isn't about biking. It's about the people you meet. This trip restored my faith in humanity. I didn't meet a single bad person during the 58 days I was on the road. Everyone I met was kinder than the last. There are good people regardless of where you are, be it the high peaks of Colorado, the plains of Kansas, or the windy mountain roads of Appalachia.

America is an amazingly varied region, and biking through many different climates and geographical conditions gave me a great overview of the country - even if I didn't scratch it's proverbial surface. However, thanks to this trip, I experienced rural America - something that I had never really known anything about. Most towns I went through had populations ranging from 50 to 1000. I stopped locking my bike up after a few weeks. Why bother? Everyone knows each other, and nobody is interested in petty bike theft. Many places I went through were experiencing crippling poverty, but that didn't stop them from being welcoming and genuine people.

Anyways, those were some random thoughts. There are many more, but I don't want to make this too too long.

Book list (in the order I read them)

1) The Dark Tower Series by Stephen King - 8 book series of pretty fantastic science fantasy / western. It's a bizarre world to explain, but if you're into that kind of thing it's great. I have never read any of his other stuff (I hate horror in any shape or form), but these books were amazing.

2) Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig - an absolutely marvelous book for a bike trip. In fact, during their motorcycle trip, they follow the transamerica for most of Montana, Idaho, and Oregon. I think that anyone could gain from reading it, it was wonderful.

3) Social: Why Our Brains Are Wired to Connect by Matthew D. Lieberman - a compilation of research that explains why we are such social creatures and why we do not thrive when we aren't connected to others. Good read - there are some pretty counter-intuitive findings about human behavior in there.

4) The Joy of x: A Guided Tour of Math, from One to Infinity by Steven Strogatz - fun short book that does a great job of explaining the beauty and intricacy of mathematics. Regardless of how much you like (or dislike) math, it's a engaging and entertaining read. 

5) Thinking In Numbers: On Life, Love, Meaning, and Math by Daniel Tammet - This was my absolutely favorite book of the trip. Through different anecdotes and stories, autistic savant Daniel Tammet explores many different questions that relate to life in this amazing book. It doesn't matter if you need your phone calculator to get you through figuring out a dinner tip or if you're a numerical analysis PhD - I highly recommend it. It's beautiful. I loved it. He has synesthesia, which is a pretty sweet condition that he shares with the amazing author of book #6.

6) Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov - not as good as Lolita (in my opinion), but a great read. It is formatted as a commentary to a 999-line poem, through which the story progresses. The beauty of it is that it can be read in several different ways: Poem then commentary, or by alternating the poem and the commentary whenever necessary.

7) This Explains Everything: Deep, Beautiful, and Elegant Theories of How the World Works by John Brockman - Edge.org asked the question "What is your most favorite deep, beautiful, and elegant theory?". In the form of 150 one to two page responses by a plethora of famous (and not so famous) scientists, it went through many theories I knew - and many I didn't. Although there was a lot of quantum stuff that went way over my head, most of it was interesting and captivating

8) A Prison Diary (Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven) by Jeffrey Archer - if you don't know Jeffery Archer, you should. He is an absolutely fantastic British novelist, and I recommend every book he has read. In this three part series, he recounts his experience of the British prison system after his convictions for perjury and perverting the course of justice. I found them to be a fascinating take of the British prison system, and they are extremely interesting - although they can get pretty hardcore - he doesn't pull any punches.

9) Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk - as much as I enjoyed the movie, the book is even better. It's a hard book to explain without ruining everything about it, but it is amazing in a disturbing kind of way.

Honorable Mention  Ulysses by James Joyce - I tried. I gave up. I'm sorry.

10) Finding Ultra: Rejecting Middle Age, Becoming One of the World's Fittest Men, and Discovering Myself by Rich Roll - a bad book to read during a bike tour. All I wanted to do after reading it was ditch the bike and start running again. It's a pretty inspiring read, and is making me want to do ultra's even more than before. I'm also planning on trying vegan for a bit due to it. We shall see. If you're into triathlons, ironmans, or any ultra-endurance sport you'll enjoy this. 

11)  Outliers: The Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell - honestly, meh. It's a very popular sciency book, and I don't agree with the way he structures his arguments. He also seems to misunderstand the scientific method. Instead of postulating a hypothesis, constructing experiments to test said hypothesis, and arriving at a conclusion with the data from the experiments; he states a conclusion, uses very specific data that supports that conclusion, and from there postulates a hypothesis that leads to that conclusion. It made me mad. I'm not sorry.

12) Born On A Blue Day: Inside the Extraordinary Mind of an Autistic Savant by Daniel Tammet - a biography by the same author of #5. It's really good as well. He explains his life as an autistic savant, and I loved it.

13) The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt - I haven't read a novel as good as this one in a while. It won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction, which may give you an idea of what calibre it is. Again, I can't say much about it without ruining it, but it is a fantastic read. The metaphors she uses are unique, and the insights offered at the end of the book were beautiful and thought provoking.  

14) Embracing the Wide Sky: A Tour Across the Horizons of the Mind by Daniel Tammet - yet another book by Daniel. Funnily enough, I've read them out of the order they were published - but it's kinda fun that way (They go Born on a Blue Day, this one, and then Thinking in Numbers). I'm actually cheating, since I'm still reading this one, but it's good. He talks about how savants don't necessarily have different functioning brains than the average person - they simply function at another level. In this book, he talks about the potential that is within all of us to use our brains more effectively.  

22.5 books in 58 days while biking cross-country. Not bad, eh?

Anyways, all good things must end (I hope this is a good thing). If you're still here, dear reader, I hope you enjoyed these silly blog posts. They were really fun to write, and I was cheered by the fact that a substantial amount of random people have told me how much they enjoyed them.

In conclusion: GET ON YOUR BIKE AND RIDE.

Love,

Malcolm

Success!

I made it!

Quite the underwhelming end to my journey - the map directions were confusing, I took a wrong turn near the end, got lost, and suddenly found myself at the Yorktown victory monument!

AK Minnick, a friend of my dad's was kind enough to greet me at the very end, snap a few pictures, take me to lunch, and drove me out to DC where I will hang out tomorrow until the fantastic, selfless, one in a million Sonya Pevzner drives down to road trip back up to Syracuse!

I don't know how to feel, it ended so fast! But I'm exhausted (it's 9:48 - way past my bedtime) so it's sleepy time now. 

Be prepared for one more post once I get back to Syracuse with a trip wrap up, lots of pictures, and a book list to rival the New York Times!

Love,

Accomplished, satisfied, overwhelmed by big city life Malcolm

Ground Rush

Where did the time go? 

All I have is a easy 50 mile ride to Yorktown tomorrow, and that's it. 

Mick was telling me that in the military, when he used to parachute, he experienced a phenomenon called ground rush. When parachuting, descending feels nice and slow, but upon reaching the last 50 meters, the ground suddenly seems to rush up at you incredibly fast, even if your velocity has been constant the whole time. 

This also applies well to bike touring. I was in the middle of the country, plodding along, and suddenly, I'm almost done. It's a very peculiar feeling. 

Mick and I parted ways yesterday morning, and he made it to DC today! Biking alone feels strange after spending almost a week with him, but it has been a nice relaxing way to finish up the trip. The countryside has been beautiful in a peaceful sort of way, the weather a bit chilly (the cold woke me up in the middle of the night for the first time since Colorado), and the back roads deserted. The prefect way to ease out of this trip. 

Tonight, I am spending the night in a Methodist church, and since they have church camp today, it is full of small children, life, and hot dogs! It's a fantastic way to wrap up my last night on the road. 

Everybody is incredibly kind, and I feel right at home! I feel incredibly blessed by the kindness I continue to encounter every single day while on this trip. 

Am I going to be able to sleep tonight? I don't know. Facing real life again will be a struggle. 

Love,

Slightly melancholic Malcolm

Hi everyone!

Today was absolutely ideal. Back roads, cloud cover, great scenery, and vanishingly small levels of traffic all combined into a great ride. Tomorrow we are biking to Vesuvius, which marks the beginning of a 4 mile 2000' ascent where we join the blue ridge parkway for about 27 miles, before zooming all the way back down to near sea level. 

Checking the map today, I was astonished to realize that I end in 5 days. I should arrive in Yorktown sometime Sunday the 17th, unless the fates conspire against me. 

Tonight, Mick and I are staying behind a rafting shop in Buchanan. The view from the riverside is superb. Trees are everywhere, and it's making me excited for the fall leaves already!

I just finished yet another book - I might add a book list of all I've read during this trip, along with some praise/criticism in case any of you are feeling in need of a new book or two (or twenty, I've been quite voracious). 

Alas, the flip side of the coin with traveling wih someone is hat I don't chat to as many random strangers or have sketchy camping experiences (Mick, being 58, is doing a great job at curtailing my dirtbag instincts - I would have knocked on random doors or slept in a ditch yesterday, but instead he convinced me a motel was the right idea).

Thus, these posts have turned more into stream of consciousness updates, and I hope they remain entertaining. 

Oh, I do have a good one. I was sheltering under a gazebo the day I met Mick, and there was a man there taking a break from his drive to West Virginia. We got to talking, and amongst all the typical questions, he asked me very genuinely if most bikers were gay. After I answered that being a biker didn't necessarily make you gay, I asked him why he was wondering that. Apparently, that's what he has been hearing from people. 

Curious. 

Anyways, it's bedtime soon!

Love,

Malcolm

Malcolm doesn't approve of motels

It rained until 10:30, so Mick and I left around 11 to begin our ride. Unfortunately, Mick's front dérailleur cable broke yesterday, so he had been in his granny gear since then. We got to the first bike shop and it was closed, so we biked to the next one, and got it fixed. He was ecstatic! I couldn't imagine being in my smallest chain ring for a day and a half. He took to drafting behind me during moderate downhills as he would spin out past 16 mph, and couldn't go any faster than that. 

I am now sitting in a motel room with Mick, drinking steel reserve and eating Chinese food. The beer and the food is great, but the motel is horrid. I'd much rather be sitting outside than in this expensive, stuffy room. 

However, Christiansburg, VA had no other options, so here we are! I'm giving the bed a strange look, I haven't slept in one of those since Missouri, and before that since before the trip started. 

The ride today was beautiful! After the rain ended, it stayed overcast and cool all day, which is a blessing. I'd rather get that than the 80 and 90 degree weather that should be occurring. 

Virginia is especially verdant after all the rain we have been getting - it feels almost tropical at times. 

There are 12 adventure cycling maps, and today marks he beginning of the last one! 368 miles to Yorktown from here, and we plan on doing 50 and 60 mile days until we split up, at which point I shall blast to the coast and be done around the 17th or 18th!

Love,

Malcolm 

My kingdom for a bike-sized umbrella!

Mick and I are sheltering under the pavilion we slept under last night, waiting for the rain to ease off to start pedaling. The little trickle of a stream in the park last night has now become a raging torrent, I check on it every so often to see if it has burst its banks yet. 

The beauty of slowing down and doing 50-60 mile days is that you can afford to stay in camp until 8, or 9, or 10 since there isn't as much of a hurry. Mick is writing his journal (he hopes to turn it into a book, eventually). I am reading my kindle, and we both wait as the rain appears to lessen a bit. If not, we might end up sleeping in the pavilion tonight as well. 

In other news, this tour might be changing from "Malcolm bikes across America" to "Malcolm breweries across America". There's so many microbreweries, and they are great! Mick is more of a wine guy than me, and Virginia has a lot of wineries, so we may also go through a lot of those. 

Life is good, touring with a companion again is fantastic (I can't believe I biked alone for around 40 days), and I'm now prolonging this as long as I can. The end is gazing straight at me, but I can still hide from it for a while. 

Love, 

Malcolm