Mind Over Might

(Daniel)

So, as we sit relaxing in Jasper, Indiana (we're staying here with our aunt and uncle for the next few days--sort of taking a much deserved breather!), we think back on these past 2 weeks with a whirlwind of mixed emotions, cool stories, and cornucopia of experience. To begin, I'd like to remind all of you of what we've accomplished so far. Below, is a map from Google that charts our venture from Richmond, VA to Louisville, KY.

Route Overview, Richmond, VA to Louisville, KY. [Total Mileage: 814.2 miles]

That route has taken us through the beautiful city of Charlottesville,

and Lexington, Virginia.

 

Upper Left: Couchsurfing with Dirk in his secluded bachelor-pad  cabin.

Upper Right: Main St., Lexington, VA.

Above: Washington and Lee University campus

Right: Patriotic colonial-style house, Lexington VA

It's taken us over the rolling, country hills of Virginia,

The Blue Ridge Parkway of the Appalachians,

And beautiful farmland.

We've seen some rough times:

Thomas and I drenched and miserable, inside our water-logged tent after a sudden flash rain. Appalachian mountains.

And good times, 

Thomas making Ravioli over a campfire. Daniel with said (tasteless and discarded) ravioli on face. 

However the best moments so far have, with few exceptions, been when we've been meeting and socializing with the people we meet along the way. It's in these moments that we not only learn more about eachother, Thomas and I, but also--perhaps more importantly--when we experience the U.S.'s wide-ranging culture, as well as learn about historical factoids and regional oddities that fill this beautiful land. We were shocked, for instance, to hear how the regions of Appalachia--located predominantly in western Virginia, eastern Kentucky, and southern West Virginia--are and have been for decades largely ignored and neglected by the government. We were told that large populations of these hard-to-access regions--themselves devoid of modern technological advance or progressive societal development--have effectively evolved their own distinct and disparate cultures: overwhelmingly self-sufficient and anti-government, resourceful yet sometimes illiterate, and even, on occasion, violent toward outsiders.

I was fascinated to learn that much of the region during the early 19th century was populated by largely Scottish and Irish immigrants that, fleeing monarchial england, carried with them a significant distaste for government. As settlers flooded in through the Cumberland Gap and morphed the land accordingly, these hostilities heavily influenced the settlements and culture of the expanding west--themselves a sentiment that may explain modern, continued political beliefs of middle America.

____

In route from Lexington to Blacksburg, VA (home of Virginia Tech University), we were joined by a cyclist by the name of Garrett who told us that he was traveling the trail to Oregon as well. He informed  us that his buddy Harrison, although originally biking the trail with him, had injured his knee and now was driving their car ahead each morning with all their gear (preparing, vis-a-vis cafe hotspots with free wi-fi, his medical school applications). As Garrett cycled with us, it became clear that we might stand well to partner with the duo, and we proffered a proposition: What if, in exchange for our expertise with Couchsurfing (translated: free-lodging) and excellent company, we put our bags in the Volvo with Harrison and cycled together for the next few days until Berea?

The two readily agreed, and our partnership was contractually set in stone by a nod and a spit-handshake.

The first night, in Blacksburg, we couch-surfed with a host by the name of Darren, who invited us out for pizza at a local pizzeria with a buddy of his, Corey--from which we learned the ins and outs of the social movement/philosophy known as "Poly" or "Poly-amory". I'll leave it to each of you to look up the fascinating subject. ;)

Clockwise, from bottom left: Corey, Garrett, Thomas, Darren, me, and Harrison.

However, as we moved through the southern segment of the Shenandoah Valley, we found Couchsurfing to be increasingly impossible. People were....friendly...but certainly less inclined to fraternize with sweaty transients. For this reason, we had to camp out our second night together (also Memorial Day), just outside Rural Retreat, VA. At our campsite, Thomas quickly got a fire burning and together we made a delicious ratatouille of tomato-sauce, onions, chipotle spices, chicken chunks (don't hurt me, my vegetarian friends! we need protein!), and broth, over noodles. A cantaloup purchased from a local grocery, topped it off as a delicious dessert, and we went to bed smelly--yet satisfied.

Thomas, Daniel and Harrison eating a home-cooked, fireside meal in Rural Retreat, VA.

The next few days of biking with Garrett could be summarized by reminding you that these guys, unlike us, were collegiate-level bikers--and thus no strangers to century rides. Garrett was very patient with us, and his tiny frame could routinely be seen biking back and forth between Thomas and me, making conversation and always providing encouraging words and a friendly smile. 

As it turned out, we learned a lot from those guys. Harrison, having hurt his knee himself, was able to give me suggestions regarding the growing pain in my own left knee (an ailment quickly alleviated by simply raising my seat), and also, along with Garrett, taught us the value of stretching before, after, and halfway through the ride. While standard hamstring and quadricep exercises were obvious, I wasn't aware of how important proper flexibility in the IT-band (the outer, lateral thigh muscle) was for bike performance. 

Thomas/Garrett
on the road.







      Thomas grinning
       for the camera.

Below: Beautiful view of the rise and fall of Virginian highways.

Naturally, riding with a trained, collegiate-level rider meant pressing our own abilities. Garrett said that he and Harrison, the first three days before Harrison's injury, were riding over 100 miles over the same terrain Thomas and I found so difficult. Getting up and setting out early (6:00 am) was a crucial part of such lengthy days. But I imagine weighing 125 pounds and having no luggage factored in as well.

Needless to say, Thomas and I sometimes exhausted ourselves in trying to maintain Garrett's pace (and our own egos). Below, we sit weak and fatigued after a particularly rough climb:

But, a few climbs aside, we actually were quite impressed with our ability to keep moving forward. During the four days with Garrett, we increased our average from the previous 50 miles/day, to 80 or so. The new company kept the journey fresh and interesting, and we slowly watched as our muscles morphed into pistons--more mechanical than biological--which carried us forward over steep mountainsides.

Having fun posing in an abandoned building alongside the route. Thomas, Garret, and Daniel.

Garrett and Thomas relaxing on some playground equipment outside of a church/hostel for bikers after a long day's ride.

One of our major lessons during this period of time, however, was that much of the grandiose expectations we had invented in preparation for this "epic journey" are just that--exaggerated fantasy. The fact is, and I write this devoid of humility, there are actually lots of people doing what we're doing. From a family of 3 guys making the trek at breakneck speed, to pockets of hostel-dwelling hippies, to 35 year old adventurists, to an elderly couple averaging 40 miles a day, the unfortunate reality is that we're not all that unique. 

Yet while this initially got us down, this should instill in us, and you, a healthy dose of truth. We've discovered that its often the belief of impossibility (if not simply hardship) that separates the average from the extraordinary. And yet, once attempted, one may discover that previously supposed barriers aren't just manageable, they're surpassable. I believe that for many people, issues of time and money may be hurdles that effectively discourage trips like this, but the fact is, concepts of bodily limitations (soreness, endurance-issues, athletic ability) or danger, simply don't hold up in practice. I'd like to tell you that what we're doing is something that requires an adventurous spirit, or fanatical disregard for safety, or impressive feats of muscular accomplishment--but I'd be lying. You, Mr. or Mrs. Reader, could do this. You really, truly, could. 

As we bike forward, we realize that the single most formidable challenge is that of the mind. There are times when you just don't want to press onward, when you quite simply have lost the lust that got you to embark in the first place. In these times, the beautiful land that surrounds you loses its luster in light of the uncomfortabilities of the ride: the hard seat pressed between your cheeks, the growing pain in your back and neck, the fights that may arise between you and your riding partner along the way. Even though many of the things we've seen are undeniably gorgeous, there are monotonous stretches of land that challenge you to occupy your mind with less-appealing exercises of thought: "Left, Right, Left, Right..." 

That's not to say we haven't felt enormously accomplished at some of our successes, the ride over the last stretch of the Appalachians (shown below) left us feeling triumphant; our first mountain pass was finished.

The strenuous nature of our journey has been both physical and mental--but it's all surmountable. Each slow, difficult pedal stroke reminds you: You're moving forward.

Kentucy/Virginia Border. Goodbye, lovely Virginia. Kentucky, here we come!