Little Fish, Big River, Bigger City

I've been getting a pile of great emails from friends of late. One of them has stood out among all the others, however. I just haven't known what to do with it. I emailed a one word response which was "Speechless." It's been riding on the back of my mind ever since and it occurred to me that the best thing to do would be to share a part of it here. If there's one thing to be said about this "story" it's that I so wished I could've written it because it's just one of those perfect parables that I can really relate to. I plod along my way, flaws and all, day to day and I sometimes forget that it's not about being perfect, but it's about being my best despite my flaws and if I just keep doing that, everything will be okay. In the email, my friend stated:

"Never underestimate the impact you have that you are not aware of. You probably infulence more people than you could ever know."

As I go through life, I guess I kind of forget this important statement. I think that many of us don't always take it into consideration that even though we're humanly imperfect, we still can have a wonderful impact on the world and those around us. It's also about seeing the beauty in others despite their flaws, accepting them and their certain "style" of life for what it is - unique, original and beatiful in its own way. So, without further ado...

The Story of the Pot

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water in his master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you." Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?" "I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said. The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some.

But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure. The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."

Moral: Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are, and look for the good in them. There is a lot of good out there. There is a lot of good in us!

Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape.

I got curious, wondering what I've gotten myself into here, so I went online to search for the record of the fastest east-west, solo, unsupported, transcontinental crossing. I found several that floored me. The overall record is just 7 days and some odd hours/minutes... but that was a "supported" ride. I found a 19 day, 22 hour and 57 minute west-east solo "unsupported" ride across Canada for 3700 miles in June, 1977. I also found a supported "arm powered" west-east crossing in 35 days. In fact, all the records can be found here.

In reading through all of this, I am comforted knowing that my goal is entirely doable. Not only that, I'm possibly going to post some sort of record for under 49 years old, transcontinental solo unsupported since I can't seem to find that category online. Should you find it, I'd love to see it. Even though I might not break that record (if it exists) due to my "untrained" state in starting this ride, I want to know what is doable.

And now a word on SAFETY...I hear you...ALL of you. Yes, I WILL BE SAFE, I will pace myself and I will be careful about electrolytes, etc. But....that said, I will not COAST through this. I DO plan on pushing and pushing hard. Additionally, I'm no stranger to tough athletic endeavors. For nearly 18 years of my life, I figure skated for 40 hours a week or more. Sometimes I spent 12 hours a day on the ice, sweating, maxing my heart rate out, training despite soreness and injury. Once I quit skating, I swore that I was going to take it easy. Well, I got to college and got roped into going to a rowing team tryout. The guy on my dorm floor said "you get free sweatshirts and chicks dig rowers." What right-minded American Male can say no to those benefits?

What he failed to mention, probably because he had no clue, was that rowing (aka "crew) is brutal. No, "medieval" is more like it. I always thought I had pushed myself when I skated all those years. I found out during most every rowing practice that figure skating is a friggin' cake walk compared to rowing. You simply can't let up when you're in a boat keeping in time with the other guys on your team. Every day, no matter how you felt, you had to drain your tanks. And then you'd go to the gym in the afternoon and drain them again before doing it all over again the next day. For three years, I pretty much felt like puking. For three years, I rowed in all conditions from 100 degree heat to freezing rain that would coat the oars with ice. My legs, back and arms were tortured six to seven days a week with relentless drive. I had to compete against 45 other, younger athletes to make the team. I was older having gotten to college late due to skating and unsuccessfully shooting for the 1988 Olympic team. The young guys kept me honest. I couldn't take short cuts to beat them out. In fact, I had to go the extra mile. Despite setbacks along the way, I made the Varsity or "first boat" of 8 guys during our final racing season. My silver medal from my last race hangs near me now but the mental endurance to overcome pain stays inside of me like a steel rod.

I've tested this "steel rod" here and there since college. In 1994, I solo climbed a 14,265 peak (Mt. Quandary) in Colorado on a whim. I rented snow shoes, strapped a snowboard onto my back and up I went....for five hours against high winds, snow and steep faces. I then snowboarded down virgin powder with AxL chasing behind me the whole way for an hour and forty-five minutes. I tested the steel rod in 1997 by running. Over a month, I built up from 2 miles per day to 15.5 which I completed in 1 hour 55 minutes including stoplights.

Then I got a job but I didn't let that stop me from entering the Seattle to Portland 200 mile ride in one day. It was 1997 and I hadn't been on a bike since 1993. I'd been running about 20 minutes a week but that was it. I rode to the starting line and took off early. Sixteen hours and thirty minutes later, having gone through driving rain and headwinds for nearly ten of those hours, I crossed the finish slightly ahead of a few others. I found myself that day, I discovered how much I had in me that I had never bothered to tap. A few years later, I somehow got roped into doing the "STP" again with a few friends. I promised myself I'd train. I went out a few times and logged about 130 miles between three rides. I was fat as all get out at 232 pounds but I stuck to my guns and entered. Luckily, I had friends to draft off of and I crossed the line in about thirteen hours and thirty-five minutes. Then it was back to the desk job until now.

Luckily, I've dropped down to 185 pounds in the last year by working out but I have yet to do any type of endurance training beyond pick-up basketball. But I've got my steel rod that will get me through the next month of hard riding. So I'll let you in on a little secret to this stuff. It's 99% mental and 1% physical. The secret is to know how to talk to yourself and to know how to listen. You've got to talk yourself through the tough points and then listen along the way so that you can pace yourself accordingly. Pain is your enemy, but it's also your best friend. You have to learn to push through the enemy when it challenges you. You need to learn to listen to your best friend when it's telling you the difference between "normal exertion" and "indication of injury." It's the line between pacing for maximum distance and stopping so you have another day to go at it by avoiding the hospital.

I had to run a few errands today, picking things up, dropping things off and returning unneeded items. Along the way, I pulled into a park bench with AxL and decided to do a personal mental upgrade. I sat, quietly, and pondered what this ride will take. I then decided to toss out my old steel rod and replace it with "titanium," the latest in strength and endurance. The adventure is inching closer and I'm 99% ready for it. This will be tougher than anything I've ever done in my life but it will also be the most rewarding.

Titanium, baby. It's where it's at.

"Why?" It's one of the first words we learn. It's also one of the most frustrating words for adults to hear, especially from children. Why? Because as adults, we don't know all the answers and rather than just say "I don't know, but let's find out" we often say, "Because I said so, that's WHY!"

But you're in luck because it's now 3 a.m. and I'm in a brave sort of mood. I'll answer the "big why" which so many of you have asked. If you haven't asked, I think many of you have at least wondered..."why on earth is this nut about to bike 3800 miles across the country completely alone?"

I could answer this any number of ways. I could give you a "Top Ten Reasons to Bike From Key West to San Diego" list. That would be humorous, but it wouldn't really give you insight, would it? Nope. I'm not going to do that to you. I've received too many amazing emails telling me that what I've been writing has actually "meant" something. I'm floored. I'm in disbelief. I keep typing in this little journal with the feeling that no one really reads it, nor does it matter, nor does it make a difference in anyone's life.

I'm finding out this isn't the case. I'm finding out there's at least a handful (and perhaps a throng) of you coming back to this page looking for something, anything really, that will grab you, entertain you, make you smile, make you cry. (Yes, I've had several reports of actual "tears.") Again, I'm floored. I'm in disbelief. How can I quit now? I can't. If nothing else, I'm just going to keep laying it all out there. So...here I go again after an arduous introduction.

A long time ago, circa 1988, I drove across the country looking for the "Big Adventure," looking for what Lewis and Clark must have felt. It turns out, driving across the country is simply a matter of taking a highway on-ramp, pressing the accelerator and steering the wheel just enough so you stay on the pavement. I made it across, but in the end I was hollow and unfulfilled. I might even go so far as to say I felt cheated out of adventure. It turns out, I've felt this way at other times.

I felt this way when I realized that a job I had was nothing more than steering enough to stay on the pavement. Some of you have been there. You go through the motions, but you feel unfulfilled. So, with unfulfillment sitting in my mouth like a cup of dry flour and no water to wash it down, I set a goal to BIKE across the country instead. I wanted to add the "physical" aspect to the mix.

Why? Because when I look back on my life and pick out the experiences that mean the most, the ones that stick with me, I find they are the ones where I go beyond the physical limits set by my mind. I CAN'T tell you about one thrilling day sitting at a desk but I CAN tell you about every time I pushed myself right to my limits and somehow went through them. Why? Because that's where I find what I'm made of. That's where I find the essence of being alive rather than just merely existing.

I'm doing this ride, frankly, because in so many ways I'm scared to death of it. Oddly, it's the scary stuff I'm looking forward to. I want to taste my heart in my mouth. I want to feel my legs searing and my lungs burning. I want to make every cell of my being know that it is alive. I CAN'T get that feeling sitting on a couch. I CAN'T get it sitting in a windowless cubicle. But I CAN get it when I take to the great unkown. I CAN get it when I'm ready to fall over but I talk myself into pushing onward.

Have you ever had a goal that you just did not let go of no matter how hard it was to reach? Have you ever had a goal that was too big for you but you tenaciously pressed on until you made it? And when you made it, do remember that feeling? That unstoppable feeling that "wow...I can't believe it but I made it" feeling. I'm after that. I'm after something that I know is most likely impossible to achieve.

I'm looking at falling on my face in failure. But I'm also looking at conquering my fears, conquering my shortcomings, conquering a mundane existence. I'm about to live out loud. I'm about to create one of the greatest stories in my life. I'm about to overcome 14 years of fear that has kept me from getting on a bike and riding hard from ocean to ocean. It's hard to know if I've done the tough part or not. Sometimes the tough part is just deciding to let go of comfort to go after a big, hairy, audacious goal. Sometimes the tough part is the actual pursuit of the goal once you have decided to go for it.

I can tell you one thing, that none of this has been easy so far. Quitting a job, unloading possessions, unloading doubt in my own abilities...not easy stuff. Yes, I do expect it to get much harder. Today I heard the word "impossible" from a friend I told about my mileage goal: 126.25 per day on average for 30 days with no training to speak of.

Impossible.

It hung out there in the air like a wasp deciding where to sting me. Perhaps my friend is right. And perhaps I can prove him wrong. I have a long history of surprising people. I was always the kid who got laughed at by other kids for whatever reason. But I was also the kid who somehow passed the laughing kids down the road. This isn't about that, though. This is about something much bigger.

This is about celebrating life and thanking my grandmother for all she gave me. This is about hearing her words every time I wanted to quit something and she said the right thing to push me on. This is about digging deep and grabbing onto life with both hands and sinking my teeth into it.

You see, Gram died without doing the one thing she had always wanted to do: go on a "loveboat" cruise just like the characters in the TV show. She grew up in Minnesota and before she could ever get out to see the world, she lost her daughter and son-in-law in a plane crash. Her dreams of going on a fabulous cruise were displaced by raising a hyperactive and sometime defiant Scott and Kelly tag team. Almost 20 years after she agreed to keep us safe, keep us fed and raise us right, she passed away on the morning that I graduated from college. I feel like I failed to give her a proper tribute for the selflessness that embodied her spirt. I'm paying that tribute now, in my own way by daring to do something I fear, by daring to jump on a dream and ride it so that it doesn't slip away like her cruise did.

So much of who I am came from what she taught me. By tackling this ride, by writing in this journal and by doing it for a great cause, I'm achieving so much that I never expected. I'm passing on her legacy, her lessons, her unflappable spirit and her bravery. One thing I never realized until this moment is how incredibly courageous she was in facing her own struggle with breast cancer. Her humor never flagged, her smile never diminished, her attitude never waned.

She spent her last months in Swedish Hospital here in Seattle. She kept the hospital staff entertained with jokes like calling the silly gowns "Swedish Dior." She held her head high despite the pain of chemo and radiation, despite multiple surgeries on her perforated bowels, despite sleeping alone, night after night in a strange bed while I was 3,000 miles away at college. She had to leave all the comforts of home behind and face her greatest fear in a strange place. She had to stare at the ceiling each day wondering if it was her last. What I'm about to go through is nothing compared to what she faced during her fight. So it's my hope that by doing this, someday others won't have to go through what she faced.

No, I'm not going to find a cure. But I am going to contribute in my own way: by raising awareness, by raising money for research, by living outside of my limits for a short time with none of the comforts of home...just like Gram did. I'm not going to find an answer to this horrible disease, but I am going to find myself in many ways. I'm going to find the untapped potential within the person she selflessly raised with incredible love all those years.

Why?

I don't know, but let's find out.

Being an American Male, I just made the classic mistake. I went into the REI Flagship Store with one thought in mind: I'm about to take on a GRAND ADVENTURE. You all see where this is headed, don't you?

So my life the past few weeks has been about letting go, minimizing, reducing...going "ZEN," baby! So far, in terms of gear, etc. I've been purely minimalist, just enough clothes to get by, just enough gear, just enough spare parts, just enough tools to most likely finish the trip. I added in some tech stuff like the camera, computer and phone to be able to stay in touch with my friends at large.

But the thought of camping 100 miles from civilization, the thought of passing through mountain ranges in November, the thought of crashing at high speed on a downhill slope all blazed to the front of my mind like the action scenes packed into a movie preview trailer. Forget the middle part of the story where most of my trip will be littered with strip malls, motels and all the irks of "civilization." I envisioned sitting in the middle of nowhere, days on end, possibly freezing to death unable to ride with a broken ulna or fibia. A short stop at the "first aid" wall in the store and I was filled with the vision of me using a snake bite kit to suck rattler venom from my calf in the middle of Texas. Heck, I don't even know if there are rattlesnakes down there. And away I went...

$572.40 later and I'm walking out with an 11 pound bag complete with everything from a $52 cocoon silk sleeping bag liner that adds 9 degrees farenheit of warmth to any sleeping bag to a $2.25 greeting card of the Space Needle and the large fountain at Seattle Center. No wonder I'm single. Women can't stand me for the way I purchase things. However, I'm my own best friend and luckily, I'm able to justify every item and every dollar spent. Are you ready for a look inside the tiny wheels of the "male gear buying" brain? Here is a rare treat for you. I'm going to list all the items from a 20 minute shopping binge, their cost and the justification as to why on earth I put this stuff in my shopping basket. Additionally, I will play my own Devil's Advocate and put the tiny wheels of my "zen brain" to work in order to talk myself out of at least some, if not all of these purchases. Let us proceed while embracing schizophrenia.

I'll start with the Nalge Lexan water bottles. They screw into my water purifier and they do not absorb odors. I've got two at home, but added two more at just $15.00 since it's going to be friggin' hot down there and man, you gotta stay hydrated. Zenboy steps in...okay, so you've got two already, fine. Stop. You've also got two water bottles on your bike plus a high volume camelback. If you need more water, just buy three or four gallons at a convenience store and bungee them onto your trailer. Cha-ching...$15.00 to take back.

Next, the "bar map" holder. This is a cool little plastic pouch with a velcro closure and two velcro straps that neatly hooks onto your handlbars to hold a map so you can read it while riding. Cost: $12.00. Hmmm, ponders Zenboy. Couldn't you just do the same thing with a ziplock bag and duct tape? $12.00...cha-ching.

Next, a "U Dig-it" aluminum shovel. Now this is a tough one. What if I have to dig out a rock to put a tent down? What if I want to put out a fire and don't feel like digging with my hands to do so or wasting water by pouring it on? Zenboy...at $17.00, I think you'll be fine. Find a stick, get creative. Shovel-schmovel.

Thermarest Easy Chair, just $45. Ok, this one is going to be tough to overcome. It's been on my "wishlist" of items for about $10 years. This amazing contraption slips over a thermarest sleeping pad, then buckles together to turn your pad into a chair. After a long day's ride, I'm going to need a place to sit and update this weblog. This one might stay. Zenboy: so, I think you should test out leaning your thermarest against your trailer. If that doesn't work, you can hang onto this one. You do deserve "some" comfort out of all this.

Compact personal pack towel for $19.95. This "chamois" type towel is mega absorbent but is a fraction of the size and weight of a real towel. Additionally, it has a small loop that unsnaps on one corner for hanging up to dry around a tree branch, etc. Zenboy, okay, so you're getting me again. I'd say bring a regular towel but the size and weight are so significant since this one folds up and fits into a ziplock sandwich baggie. Oh, but I see you've bought the "face towel" size too for $14.95. You'll be taking that one back...cha-ching.

Stuff sacks are next. They came as a "must have" recommendation from two friends who have done long trips like this. There are three "mesh" ones and three solid ones that are multi-colored for figuring out what's inside each. The mesh ones will hold clean/dirty clothes and the multi-colored ones will hold spare parts, food, the laptop and books. Zenboy: can't argue there and at $41.50 for six that comes to $7 each for a fairly good bargain. They can stay in the name of being organized inside your larger travel bag.

Next up, storm proof matches. Once you light these devils, they don't go out. Combine them with "fire ribbon" which is a squirt on toothpaste-like chemical and you can even get wet wood burning. We're talking survival at your finger tips for just $6.50. Zenboy: okay, fire and warmth at night are essential. These could be the difference between life and death: stay.

Now for the "no brainer" emergency first aid kit. Granted, I had some band-aids and what not in a little cheapo home kit but this "portable trauma ward" cost just $79.95 and comes with a wound syringe for cleaning a deep cut, blister materials, scissors, thermometer, forceps for removal of embedded objects, a comprehensive guide to wilderness and travel medicine, motrin, tylenol, band aids, wound closures, trauma pads for stopping major blood loss, burn ointment and dressings, cloth tape and DUCT tape (!), knuckle bandaids and a waterproof splint that fits any body part. Sure, it cost a wad but... if I don't have a single accident, it's easily returnable for a full refund. Zenboy: better to be safe than sorry, but it goes back if you don't open it...knock on wood.

Here's the next "no brainer"...the must have tool: the leatherman "juice" model. This tiny thing has needlenose pliers, a knife, wire cutters, cable cutters, xtra small screwdriver, small screwdriver, large screwdriver, phillips screwdriver, bottle opener, corkscrew, scissors, saw, awl, serrated knife, a diamond file and a lanyard loop. This tool will last a lifetime, weighs a few ounces and is the size of a swiss army knife (which I do not have). Zenboy: ok, smart purchase. All those items in one indestructable tool is worth it.

Down to the nitty gritty: personal protection! So, my friend the knife-maven Josse Delage insisted that I get a three inch blade folding knife for self protection and various other uses. At three inches, it can be carried across all state lines legally. I opted for a mountain climbing model since mountaineering is definitely in my future. I went low end on price at $40 and stayed away from the $55-$85 models. Lifetime warranty and the fact that I don't own a knife should dictate a stamp of approval on this one. Zenboy: stamp of approval granted. Wham!

Now here's a tough one...a silk sleeping bag liner that adds 9 degrees of heat to your existing bag for $52. Since my current bag is rated at 35+ degrees, that gets me down to about 26 degrees. In looking at the average temperatures for the coldest areas I'll be traveling through, the lows are in a range of 10 above to 30 above. I'm a tad shy. So what to do here? The sales person at REI suggested I go with a 0 degree bag for $250 on sale. My options are: add the liner, bring a "survival" blanket that reflects heat, wear clothes and pray for the best and/or get a motel all through these areas. The issue is that this same area has basically motels every hundred or two hundred miles at a stretch with only campgrounds in between. If I play the motels smart and pedal like hell, I can make it. If I hit headwinds and foul weather, I could be in trouble because by this point, I'll have no body fat to speak of. So, here I sit, pondering the purchase of a $250 sleeping bag vs. going "cheap" and hoping for the best. Zenboy: sleep on it.

Last but not least: the "impotence factor." I've got an okay bike seat, but tonight while browsing through the new seats, I found a Titanium Split seat, fully customizable in terms of the size of the gap on the split. It's lightweight, fairly padded in the rear humps and could be the difference between impotence and what can only be called... "not impotence." The cost: $95. Zenboy: look, you don't um, well, you know..."have much going on" in that arena anyway nor do you have anything to speak of on the five year horizon. So what's the difference if you can save $95? Gearboy: well...I MIGHT POSSIBLY get into that arena someday...perhaps, but I agree with you, Zenboy, those are mighty tough odds. I'm looking at 38 years old in a few months, I'm dreadfully single and have yet to keep a girlfriend around for any significant amount of time so you're right, what's the point? Youv'e got a deal...the seat goes back. Screw it...so to speak.

So, I've now shaved $167.19 off my bill with another $52 for the sleeping bag liner in flux. Got a vote on anything here, people? Words of wisdom? I'd welcome all commentary and advice at this point because basically, I'm wrestling with myself, I'm losing...and it's not pretty. However, it is highly entertaining...at least from "our" point of view.

Unlike my normal updates, this one is going to be somewhat on the boring side so I'm apologizing in advance. I've been asked so many times by too many people about the details of my upcoming bike trip. So now, in an attempt to alleviate some of the "repetitive" explanations, I'm going to lay it all out, right here, right now.

Yes, originally I was going to leave on October 31. Yes, originally I was going to bike from St. Augustine, Florida to San Diego. Yes, my plans have changed somewhat. But as they say, "the only constant is change."

After much rushing around and crossing off of "to do list" items, I simply was not ready to leave last Thursday so I pushed it to Sunday night. Then to Monday morning and now I'm booking my flight solidly for Friday morning, Nov. 8. I felt the throes of the common cold coming on and have gone into relative hiding by not answering my phone and being a tad lax on email, too. I need my rest. I need to eat more. I need to suck down OJ by the gallon.

I'm close to wrapping up the last of my packing. Clothes, books, kitchen items and a few odds and ends are ready for boxes. I have some paperwork to finish up on my sublease and a couple of bills to pay this week. I need to purchase a pair of gloves for the ride and I need to return some fenders I decided not to use on my bike. I also need to drive by the first address I ever lived at after being born and I am going to take some time to visit my parents grave for the first time. Catharsis aside, I should be ready to roll after that.

Now, to answer the bigger questions: where am I riding? will it be cold? what am I taking? who is going with me? where will I sleep? who's watching AxL the dog? blah blah blah!!!!!!!!!

I will begin my ride, completely alone and without a "sag wagon" support car on November 11 which is also Veterans Day. (Please observe this day as it's all too overlooked, in my mind.) I will assemble my bike somewhere in Key West, head to the Green Parrot Bar and have a beer or three. Then I will sit on the seat for the first of many hours and start pedaling north 649.6 miles to St. Augustine. From there, I will turn west and ride headfirst to San Diego. Yes, I know I need to be safe. I hear ya. I have heard and read all the horror stories of bicycling through the deep south. Yes, I know there are hurricanes (aka tailwinds). Yes, I know there are headwinds, too. A lot of them. But it's okay. Things that are worthwhile in life are never easy nor are they always safe and comfortable. I'm sure I will get sore. I'm sure that I will be frustrated at times. I'm sure that I will meet my share of interesting characters if not dicey ones. If I make it, I make it and if I die trying, I die daring to go beyond my limits. It's that simple. In the meantime, AxL the dog will be staying with my friend (who is most likely an angel hiding her wings under her clothes) Micaela Grill. Yes, she sends me updates and yes, I'll post them when appropriate.

Where will I sleep? So...when I get tired at night or during the day and I'm near a cheap motel. I will stop at a cheap motel. If I am in the middle of nowhere, I will pitch a tent, the "Zoid 1" by MSRwhich weighs 2.2 pounds and takes under 60 seconds to set up. It measures 36" wide by 90" long by 33" high. I opted out of the "Velo" which would hold my bike inside with me due to the added 5 pounds of weight. Additioanlly, I have the Dragonfly Stove by MSR and the Canon Powershot S330 Digital Elph and two 128k memory cards for photos. Yes, I'm considering a slide show/lecture tour upon my return at $10 per head. ("Always Be Closing," as they say in sales.)

I am carrying a Sony Vaio Palmtop, namely the Sony Vaio SRX87P which weighs under 3 pounds including the external dvd drive. I MAY bring "zoolander," "van wilder," and "the matrix" for entertainment but on the other hand, that might be pushing things a tad. I'll be able to connect to the internet from everywhere on the road except for a 300 mile stretch in mid-Texas and another 180 mile stretch in New Mexico which does not have T-Mobile coverage. The computer connects using a T-Mobile Sierra Wireless Air Card 750. I am also carrying an with about 600 songs on it for music along the way. One thing to note here is that The Mike George Family went all out to rip cd's and load these mp3's onto the contraption for me. God Bless them!

Clothing wise, I'm packing two pair of bike shorts, two jerseys, one pair of gloves, one vest, one jacket, one thin stocking cap, one helmet, three pair of biking socks (one with embroidered cartoon "sperm" on them), one pair of long windproof, rainproof stretch pants, one pair of shorts, one pair of jeans, two t-shirts, one helmet, one pair of Smith sunglasses with dark, clear and yellow changeable lenses, two pair of boxers, one pair of Teva's, one pair of tennis shoes, one wool sweater (there is an 8,000 ft. mountain pass in New Mexico), one pair of long underwear top and bottom, one baseball cap from Antarctica (brought to me by my good friend Tom Schonhoff), and one casio watch which has a barometer, compass, altimeter, alarms, stopwatch and yes, it tells time, too.

Gear wise, I've got bike tools, a diode headlamp which rocks, bike headlight, two bike taillights, a "camelback" water system, five water bottles, a water purifier, two fuel bottles and a pair of heavy but worth carrying self-stabilizing binoculars for looking at the stars at night in Texas. (These were also an amazing gift from my good friend Tom Schonhoff.) I have spare tubes, extra tires, kevlar tire liners, Armadillo main tires, a pump, brake cable, spare spokes, an adjustable wrench, brake pads and a "B.O.B." Trailer to carry everytihing in a water proof bag. No, I don't have a solar panel nor do I have any spare body parts. Yes, I have a first aid kit. Yes, I will have to remove my own stitches next Tuesday after getting a cyst taken out last week from my right hamstring.

How long will it take? Frankly, this is a great question without a solid answer. It could take two months. I used the old "Amazon.com Model" of "low return, most likely, and stretch goal." My "low return" result would be just friggin' make it without stopping no matter how long it takes. My "most likely" scenario is probably 5-6 weeks with the added mileage of Key West. My Stretch goal remains 30 days. To make it in 30 days, I will need to average some good speed. I am biking a road distance of 3,787.6 miles, not including side detours to camping spots and motels and food. I will easily go over 3800 by the end of this ride. I would need to post 126.25 miles per day to arrive in San Diego in 30 days. That is the equivalent of 30 Iron Man biking legs back to back straight. Have I mentioned that I have not trained for this? Yes, I have not trained for this. I did ride my bike for about a week straight two weeks ago for 18 miles per day to post a total of 90 miles training. I will assemble my bike tonight and post a few miles tomorrow, gear and all to make sure the trailer, etc. is all in working order and to get a feel for the "weight" of this thing.

No, I'm not going to start with 126.25 mile days. I will start with easy, 50 or 70 mile days and build to 126+. Then I will post as many 150-175 mile days as possible during the middle "flat" section of the ride. I will also attempt a 24 hour stretch without sleeping to see how far I can go just for the hell of it. I think Texas is going to be a great place to just drain the tanks like this and see what I'm made of.

Once I hit New Mexico, I hit hills...big ones. Lots of them, all the way to California before I get to scream down into the Pacific Ocean. I don't know that I can pull this off. In fact, part of me says "no way, pal." However, if ANY of you reading this know me, I have pulled things off before and so I'm going to keep my old crew coach Tony Johnson's words ringing in my ears: There are no limits!

Some final words...

I won't go into "why" I'm doing this as I'll save that for my next post. However, I will say that the excitement of heading into something so unknown, something so unlike anything I've ever done has the most amazing effect on one's confidence level. I'm terrified at times thinking about the pain I'll feel. Then I'm elated knowing I'll knock a 14 year goal off of my list that has been sitting and sitting and SITTING there taunting me. One of my best friends said to me not too long ago, "when are you going to stop talking about everything you want to do and just go and do it?" With that, it's time to stop talking now.