Louisana, Here We Come!

We are leaving Austin today and heading for the Gulf Coast.  Our next mail stop will be:

Chris Childers
General Delivery
Lafayette LA 70501

Full post and pictures later.

Another Address to Send Us Goodies!

Brittany and I are in Marathon, TX, tired from our trip to Big Bend NP.  We'll be in Sanderson tomorrow, so if you want to send me stuff, I've got a new address for you:

Chris Childers
General Delivery
Austin TX 78710

We'll be leaving Austin either 1 or 2 Days after Christmas, you've got some time to make a good batch of cookies.

Its been uncharacteristically cold here, but it should be warming up by tomorrow.  We are well and having a blast.  New pics soon.

Phase Out

When I left New Jersey 3 months ago, I had a good idea how this whole bike touring thing would work, but I was completely unprepared for how it would unfold in real life.  People ask me if I'm getting sick of it yet, if I'm homesick or tired of sleeping on the ground.  In a way I am homesick a little.  T.S. Eliot said that that we'll never cease from traveling, and when we finally return home, we can really know the place for the first time.  One of the coolest things that this bike trip is giving me is context: context for what this country and my own home are and what they mean in the landscape, context for what and who I am in the world.

I am not getting sick of it.  Its really growing on me.  I am a little scared thinking about the fact that it must end some day.  Each day, traveling to a new place under my own power, I discover something new, something unique, something special about a new place or about myself.  I read somewhere that if more people knew the mental benefits to biking long distances, shrinks would go out of business.  The opportunities for self-analysis and thought are many.  There is nothing better to help you sort through your problems then a long day on the bike.

Another thing biking for this long does, especially with just one other person, is make you lose touch with reality.  If I were suddenly thrown back to New Jersey and my job, people would think I'm insane: we sing silly songs, burst into laughter and hysterics over street signs and say every single word in as many wrong ways as we can.  We have lost our marbles, but we couldn't be having more fun doing it.

So, just in the nick of time, Brittany has arrived to tell us just exactly how stupid we are acting.  She arrived yesterday and will bike with us into the indeterminate future, or until she loses her marbles, too.  For me, this marks the beginning of Phase 2.  The terrible trio will bike this next part of the country together and see if we can't drive each other nuts in the meantime.

It turns out, I have been riding for three months with an renowned author.  Ross, apparently, can not only write, but he writes whole books.  I can't imagine the number of made up words the he has now subjected the entire world to.  Be sure to check out his blog here.  You can also find a link to buy his picture book there.  As soon as I find a way to pirate it, I'll pass that along, too.

I want to thank everyone for the great packages and general support I have received from friends and family.  It means a lot to stay connected with home when you are effectively homeless.  For everybody who didn't get a chance the first time, I have another address where I'll be in a week or 2:

Chris Childers
General Delivery
Sanderson TX 79848

I found out you don't need to put the street address; the postal service knows where the post office is.

Another part of this blog post is some statistics.  Being the bike dork and general geek that I am, I've compiled some numbers and facts that offer some insight into Phase 1:

Days: 91
Traveling Days: 68
Rest/Tourist Days: 23
Zero Mile Days: 1
Nights in Houses: 40
Motels: 3
Distance: 4222 miles
Average Miles per  Day: 46
States: 7 (OR, CA, NV, UT, AZ, NM, TX)
Riding Partners: 7
Books read: 4
Flats: 0 (2 slow leaks, though)
National Parks/Rec Areas: 15 (Oregon Dunes, Redwoods, Yosemite, Death Valley, Redrock Canyon, Lake Mead, Zion, Grand Staircase, Lake Powell, Glen Canyon, Grand Canyon, Saguaro, White Sands, Carlsbad, Guadalupe Mtns)

I am working on catching up my map on the Where? page of this blog to give you a better idea of my route.  It'll take time.

We have entered the behemoth that is Texas.  Texans say it is its own country (but they disavow Dallas and Houston).  It is gorgeous.  I have really been looking forward to Texas, having no idea what I was in for.  Big Bend is on the horizon, then San Antonio, Austin, Galveston and New Orleans.  Coincidentally, we already quite a congregation meeting us in New Orleans around January 12, so if anybody else wants to join, come on down.

Until next time, po-tee-wheet?

Calories Count: the Diet of a Cyclotourist

The view from Sonoita, AZ

One of the questions I get asked most often is: What do you eat?

It is a question with merit.  Rocks and grasses? Nuts and berries?  Big Macs and Whoppers?  The answer is more complicated than you would think.  Don't forget that my partner in crime here is a vegetarian, sometimes vegan.

Boothill Cemetery in Tombstone, AZ

Like the trip, every day is different when it comes to meals on two wheels.  A simple answer is something like cereal for breakfast, peanut butter for lunch, and beans for dinner.  The long answer is much more interesting.

Occupy: Bisbee

Let's take a random day: October 8, 2011.  Unfortunately, context has a lot to do with our question here, so before I start, I have to back up a bit.  2 days before October 8, we were in Morro Bay, CA, near San Luis Obispo.  The Gateway to the Southern Coast as they called it.  Our sights were set on Yosemite, but we had a lot of trekking to do to get their.  Crossing the San Joquain Valley in 2 days, we covered 190 miles, two of my longest days so far.  Naturally, I had a good nights sleep and woke up on October 8 in Millerton Lake with a grumbling belly.

Usually, cereal is our go to breakfast.  Ross prefers all sorts of fruits and nuts and healthy things in his raisin bran.  I, however, have more of an adolescent appetite and instead go for the Honey Nut Scooters, Cocoa Mo's or Marshmellow Mateys.  If you have not had the pleasure of experimenting with off brand, bagged cereals, do yourself a favor and go buy a bag of Malt-O-Meal Marshmellow Mateys and tell me they don't make your day. Try it. I dare you.

Milk? Easy.  The dried variety packs and stores very well.  Add water and you've got some breakfast.  Again, Ross has his own bag of powdered soy milk, imported from the very smug region of Burlington, VT, at great cost.  Its so scarce and valuable that he uses only a few grains at a time.  He basically has raisin bran in water.  I, on the other hand, sick of the plain old non-fat varieties typically available on American shelves, have opted for the more exotic, robust and delicious Klim: a dried whole milk product strangely available with only a Spanish label.  Its found, of course, only in Hispanic groceries (and at least 1 Asian grocery outside of San Francisco).

Suppertime

On this particular day, we ate at our campsite, but sometimes we bike a little first, usually when we don't want to be found by certain authorities at our place of sleepage.  Despite the two bowls and a bottle of water, second breakfast couldn't come soon enough so we stopped at a gas station.  I got a banana and a cup of coffee.  Deciding that wasn't quite enough, I went back for some french fries.

Very rare to see a sign like this

By then it was about 10am and we had gone 15 miles or so.  For our planned 50 miles that day, we had made some good progress, but we needed more.  The next bit of the ride was some climbing and a good descent into the city of Oakhurst, the threshold to Yosemite.  There was a Jack in the Box in town.  I had a side mission on this trip to try some of the burger joints exclusive to the west, so I ordered some double bacon cheeseburger and curly fries, crossing Jack off my list.

We has hail!

I found Ross eating some kind of bird food outside of Safeway (he is a club member, you know).  Having devoured the first course, we went back for desert and each got a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream.  Yum. It was just 12pm.

This day was exceptional when it comes to lunch.  We usually do peanut butter and nutella and honey and corn nuts and fritos in a tortilla wrap, but we decided to treat ourselves.

Later in the day, after a big climb, we made it to the gates of Yosemite, only to be turned away because of lack of camping spots.  We found refuge at Summerdale campground, just a mile outside the park and served up some dinner.  Dinner is usually our big finish of the day where we really try pack in the protein.

They love their chiles in New Mexico

Protein, however, is rather hard to portage in hot, waterproof, bicycle luggage without spoiling.  Believe me, I've tried.  It wasn't pretty.  We have settled into a pretty good routine, though.  It almost invariably includes a can of beans: refried red, refried black, chili beans, ranch beans, cuban style, cajun style, 3 bean salad, red and black combos, etc.  I've become quite the canned bean expert.  Occasionally, we'll do a container of hummus to shake things up (garlic, roasted red pepper, herbed? God forbid we get plain.)

Now to dress it up.  Avocados, tomatoes, red onion, white onion, kale have all been featured guests on our plates.  Add the hot sauce packets that you might find at a gas station or a Taco Bell and you have a taste sensation.

The most important ingredient, however, is the bread.  We have really fallen in love jalapeno cheddar rolls from the super market, but also use tortilla and various excuses for bagels that they try to pawn on the unsuspecting public in the west.

This day in particular was also special as it was my 2 months on the road celebration.  We added to dinner a 6-pack of Sierra Nevada.

King Cotton

Three meals are not nearly enough for the strapping young men we are.  We constantly supplement with storied power foods, proven throughout the ages by schlubs and athletes alike (take note, ye who have no idea what to send me in Alpine): pickles, fritos, corn nuts, potato chips, paydays, snickers, power bars, clif bars, peanuts, and various fruit type things.

We woke up the next morning ready to start again before we braved the hill into Yosemite.  There is always room for more.

***

I write now from Las Cruces, NM, the Crossroads.  We spent a wonderful day and a half in the foothills community of Hillsboro.  Jim, the museum caretaker, showed us around and made us feel quite at home.  I really geeked out over his greenhouse succulent garden.

The people have been great, even the the scenery was sometimes shaky: we camped outside Lordsburg, which was no gem, and next to an abandoned mine outside Silver City.

From here, we'll head to White Sands NM, the largest white gypsum sand dunes on Earth.  Even on 110 degree days, you can walk the dunes barefoot.  Sky-high Cloudcroft promises frigid temperatures as well as a lengthy downhill.  The underground Grand Canyon of Carlsbad Caverns and the beautiful Guadalupe Mountains will keep us busy until we meet Brittany in Alpine, TX.  For those that missed it last time, you can send me stuff and things at this address:


General Delivery
Chris Childers
901 W Holland Ave
Alpine TX 79830-9998

where I can pick it up on December 6.

Beans, tomatoes, avocados, hot sauce and Cap'n Crunch on a whole wheat tortilla. Yum.

Happy Thanksgiving.

P.S.  Christine took some great picture when she was with us on the Pacific Coast.  Check them out here.

Stuff and Things

We are, after 21 days, officially out of Arizona.  What a ride...

Our stops in New Mexico will include Silver City, Gila Hot Springs, Las Cruces, White Sands NM, Carlsbad Caverns and probably lots of unexpected stuff.

I will be able to get mail soon!  We can take advantage of our awesome US Postal Service and use their general delivery system.  You can send mail to this address:

General Delivery
Chris Childers
901 W Holland Ave
Alpine TX 79830-9998

and I will pick it up when I get there.  Recommended Items to send: gold bars, cookies, peanut butter, candy, beer.

Also, Alpine is where we will be picking up another delivery: Brittany.  She arrives by train on December 6, so thats when we'll be there.  That only 2 and a half weeks away so get those packages and postcards and Brittany's ready now.

Until next time, from a huge ass desert, babbity boop.

P.S.  I have been made aware that I am not in any of my pictures.  This is being corrected.

Another Side of Arizona

I was told that my last post was kind of a bummer.  Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't; the trip has, regardless, been the most amazing experience of my life so far.

I want to give a happy glimpse of Arizona this time.  Its been a pretty amazing time in this state.  We have gone from desert to canyon to mountain to desert again.  We were at about 8000 feet above sea level outside of Flagstaff, then about 1000 feet by Roosevelt Lake.  We got 6 inches of snow in the north and 3 days of rain in the south.

We have had headwinds nearly every day, and strong ones at that.  The funny thing about having that much headwind for that many days in a row is that you want to say that the headwind is "following" you. The twisted part is that headwinds don't follow, they predict where you are going.  They are always a step ahead of you.  When we turn, the headwind turns with us.  It can really mess with your morale.

For so much headwind, we have had one day of tailwind:  When we left the Grand Canyon, we had a building crosswind for a few miles.  When we turned, the wind stayed behind us, and we flew.

Arizona has been a really incredible place.  Of all the places I have visited so far, few of these places have spoken to me in such a way that I could think about staying.  San Francisco was one place and Tuscon is the other.

Tuscon? you ask.  Yes, Tuscon.  We arrived to a flurry of bike related activities: bike-swap, bike art show, scavenger hunt, etc.  It is one of the best road biking cities in the country because of its lack of snow and excess of lanes and paved trails.  BICAS (bicycle inter-community art and salvage) is the bike co-op in town, and it turns out that its a kind of famous one.  They were really friendly and helpful.  The city contracts their art department for recycled bike racks and trash can holders made from bike parts.  They are truly integrated into the community and everybody seems to know about them and how cool they are.

The hip spot in town is 4th Ave, a very walk-able and cool place with great coffee, solar powered beer and the best pizza I've had since the tri-state area.

Yes, thats a hunting bike.

Tomorrow, we leave for parts further south.  The weather has been fantastic here and we intend to follow it all the way to Florida.  We have a third joining us in 3 weeks in Texas.  The trip is changing by the day and its always for the better.

Until next time, babbity boop.

Aliens in Arizona

Bicycle touring is exactly like having one leg.  Exactly.

Now before you laugh, let me draw some threads through my theory here.  In one respect (the respect most recently experienced), people tend to stare.  If you have never seen a one legged before, it kind of catches your eye.  If you have never seen a fully loaded bicycle or its rider before, you will be intrigued and probably take a second look.

I have, in the last 7 years of one-legged-ness, gotten used to gawkers; its kind of just comes with the territory.  There's not really much I can do at this point to stop them besides grow it back (I'm working on this).  However, that does not mean it does not affect me.  A double take from a passer-by is one thing, but when people stop what they're doing to watch me, when they run into other people because they are no longer looking in front of them, when they very clearly gawk and still don't come up and talk to me, it kind of makes me feel like an animal in a zoo.

I really don't mind if people look.  Its a thing to look at.  Its actually a pretty weird and crazy thing.  I cannot fault anyone for simply looking.  

Again, its something that I have gotten used to, but it does tend to eat away at you after a while.  Some days, I want to ask some of these people what the hell they think they are staring at.  I am a human being, too, and I can probably quell some of your curiosity if you only come talk to me.  I don't bite.  I obviously know you have been looking at me: you aren't the first person to ever ask me about my leg.  Its much more uncomfortable to have the elephant in the room.

Ross and I have been feeling like this lately in our recent National Park extravaganza.  In the last week, we have been to Zion NP, Grand Staircase NM, Glen Canyon NRA, and Grand Canyon NP.  Judging by what the people we have seen are looking at, we were the biggest attraction at all these places.  In Death Valley, people stuck their entire upper bodies out of the windows of their RVs to take pictures of us biking through.  At Grand Canyon, I counted at least 5 people who stopped to take pictures of our bikes when we weren't on them.  Everybody points, I always see them, they always pretend they weren't pointing.

Again, its kind of a weird and crazy thing; for many people, it is a completely novel idea.  Some can't even comprehend it.  They ask ridiculous questions: "What do you do if it rains?" I get wet.  "Do you sleep on the ground?" No, I have a tent and a sleeping bag.  "What do you eat?" Sticks and rocks.  What did you think? Real food, maybe?  We are such an alien concept to some people that they truely treat us like aliens.

A look here or there is ok and expected.  I cannot fault anyone for their curiosity (except the cat; always remember the cat, you curious people).  But after a while, the constant gawking and visibile, thick, tense distance that strangers fabricate between us takes its toll.  It strips your humanity away, little by little.  When so many people treat you as a strange, foriegn, not-to-be-approached thing, it starts to get to you.

Now, I am a strong willed individual and people gawking at me for any number of strange things about me has never stopped me from doing them.  I try to tell people this about my leg, and also, these days, about bicycle touring: we are people too.  Even if we don't act like you or eat like you or look like you, even if we don't see eye to eye politically or vehicularly, even if we smell really bad from not showering, we are still people and we have feelings.  

As per my last post, this is true of everyone, not just bicycle tourers and one-leggeds.  We all have something to say.  To think that some people could be somehow different enough as to be unapproachable is the greatest tragedy of modern society.

Talk to us.  We probably have a lot to say about a lot of different things.  We may enlighten you or challenge you or even prove ourselves ignorant of worldly truths in your eyes.  But we will always at least return a "hello."

Itinerar-ily, we arrived in Flagstaff, AZ, on Novermber 2.  Despite our best efforts to avoid winter, it caught up with us in the form of 6 inches of snow last night, with more potentially on the way.  We are warm and dry for now, but the next few days pose interesting challenges.  Tomorrow we will head south, with gumption.  Sedona, the artist's community of Jerome, Lake Roosevelt and the warm promises of Phoenix and Tuscon are some of our next stops.  We may even sneak over the boarder into Mexico and try to get some low wage labor.

New pictures are always being loaded, usually more often than I blog, so remember to look here.

Until next time, keep the greasy side down.